A Celebration for Our Angel

"For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made."- Psalm 139: 13-14

Something beautiful and amazing happened on May 12, 2012 at 1:00 PM.

Something that was both heart breaking and heart warming at the same time.

Something you wish you never had to do, but you THANK GOD that you did.

We had a memorial celebration for our Jackson. 

We celebrated the short, but amazing life of our little angel in the most appropriate way we could think of.

We went through all possible emotions and questioned ourselves every step of the way. We debated whether we even should or should not do a service. Is it appropriate? Is it over-the-top? Is it necessary? Should it be small? Should it be open to all? Where would we have this service? At a church? Outside? And it went on and on from there....

Above all....

How would we even find the strength to even go through with this?

All the planning went down during the 5 days we spent at the hospital. Most of the planning actually never involved Russ and me, as we were on another planet. Another team of angels swept in and did it all. We are so grateful for every single one of them. You know who you are!

As I mentioned in my previous post...we planned for life....not death. We know about car seats, feeding schedules, cures for diaper rashes, a proper swaddle, and how to battle colic....not where to have a memorial for a baby, what bible readings to use, what songs to sing or whether to bury or cremate the tiny angel.

So we just followed our hearts.

We wanted to have it sooner rather than later. We just could not bear to have it many more days or even weeks down the road.

We decided to have an open celebration that anyone and everyone could attend.

We wanted it to be casual. No stuffy suits.

We wanted everyone to wear color in honor of our son. No black needed at our celebration. He was a baby and we know he would have wanted a colorful celebration.

With these requests in mind, the team of angels went to work. They were amazing.  In just 24 hours they planned the most perfect celebration.

Jackson's memorial was planned for Saturday, May 12, 2012 at 1:00 PM at The North Carolina Arboretum.

Here is their website:
http://www.ncarboretum.org/

The memorial would take place in the large natural amphitheater in the heart of the Arboretum. So beautiful, so natural, and so very peaceful. It was a perfect location to honor and celebrate our son. 

I can remember my mom coming into our hospital room with tears streaming down her face saying "This is going to be perfect. They planned it all, and it is perfect. It is amazing. You are going to be so happy with it!". It is the first time in days that we actually saw tears of joy and hope. We found ourselves to be at peace with everything, even though we knew nothing about what was actually planned.

On Thursday, our friend and officiant for the memorial came to the hospital to meet with Russ and me. He was coming to share the layout for the service, and he wanted to make sure we approved of everything that was planned. I had a huge knot in my stomach going into this meeting, because you can never prepare yourself to even have this type of meeting.

The layout for the service was perfect. Amazing. It was exactly what we wanted. No objections, no concerns, and certainly NO second guessing everything. This memorial was going to happen, and it was going to be beautiful.

We were asked to do one thing for the memorial. It was a tough task. We had to write a "reflection letter" to be read aloud during the service.  How do you do this? Where do you start? Will we say everything we need and want to say? We knew we could do it, we just chose to put it off for a bit until it seemed more clear as to when we should write the letter.


Early Friday morning, Russ and I were spending therapeutic time alone before the hectic-ness of shift change and family time. We were propped up in the bed together and we realized it was time. Time to write a letter to our son. So, we did. We typed and cried. Typed and cried. Deleted. Cried. Deleted. Typed. Deleted. Cried. Typed. Typed some more. Finished. E-mailed it. Cried.


After we finished our letter, we chose to do something else that was both beautiful and hard. The amazing nursing team brought us a plastic tub with beads, letters, and rope for us to make a bracelet or necklace in honor of Jackson. They said that the tub rotates around the hospital, and many families have gotten some therapy out of making a bracelet or necklace in honor of their loved one. After writing our letter, we thought it was good time for us to make bracelets together.  I kicked it off. I rummaged through the tub for blue beads and letters to spell his name. I wanted to just have his first name on my bracelet. I strung all the beads together and Russ tied it on my right wrist. We cried. Then we moved onto his bracelet. He wanted to have his initials and a combination of blue and white beads. We picked through the bucket and strung his together. Then I tied it on his right wrist. We cried some more. In that moment we could feel him with us. It was a very beautiful moment that our hearts and souls needed. There is something therapeutic about these bracelets, and we are so glad we chose to make them.  The act of making them, and the way we went about putting them on each other was as symbolic and beautiful as the day we exchanged rings before our family and friends. They are so very sweet and look like something a child would make or wear.  They will always be with us as a lasting reminder of our Jackson. We wear our rings for each other, and our bracelets for our angel. Forever loved and never forgotten. We love you JND.

The day had come.

Time to celebrate our son.

Time to celebrate even when your heart is broken.

Time to experience every emotion under the sun.

Time to find peace and fill our hearts with something good and pure.

It was Jackson's day.

 *Our friend took all of these photos, and we are so grateful to have them! Thank you!!*

We arrived at the Arboretum, and we could hear the band playing off in the distance. It was slightly overcast and there was a chilly breeze. There were people everywhere, but things were so quiet. We could see people hugging each other, many crying and even providing a hand to one another to walk down into the amphitheater.

All of the family convened off to the side of the amphitheater so that we could all walk down together. They had a wheelchair for me, but I refused to use it. I had the strength to walk 200 yards for my son, and I wanted to walk into the amphitheater holding my husbands hand. Together we would get through this.

Our officiant told us it was time.

 Russ and I held hands and led the family down the hill to the amphitheater. Tears were flowing.

We were overwhelmed. It was so peaceful and beautiful. There were so many people there to honor and celebrate our amazing son. Over 200 people gathered there that day. Blessed and thankful are two words that come to mind.

Time to start the ceremony. Time to grieve. Time to send prayers. Time to love. Time to support each other. Time to find peace. Time to show our son and the world how much we love and miss him.

The ceremony started with a welcome from our sweet officiant. He opened it beautifully.

Next, the Head Baseball Coach (from the high school where Russ works and coaches at) said an amazing prayer. He eloquently prayed through strong emotions and tears.

 Next came the song "It Is Well". This was sung by the chorus director at the high school. As soon as he sang the first few bars, everyone was mush. That man has a gift from God, and his talent is off-the-charts amazing. The wind blew slightly during the song, and it was perfect.

1. When peace, like a river, attendeth my way, 
 when sorrows like sea billows roll; 
 whatever my lot, thou hast taught me to say, 
 It is well, it is well with my soul. 
Refrain:
 It is well with my soul, 
 it is well, it is well with my soul. 

2. Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come, 
 let this blest assurance control, 
 that Christ has regarded my helpless estate, 
 and hath shed his own blood for my soul. 
 (Refrain) 

3. My sin, oh, the bliss of this glorious thought! 
 My sin, not in part but the whole, 
 is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more, 
 praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul! 
 (Refrain) 

4. And, Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight, 
 the clouds be rolled back as a scroll; 
 the trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend, 
 even so, it is well with my soul. 
 (Refrain) 

Beautiful. Just beautiful. No other words to describe it.

Next we had two family friends come up to read scripture.

The first reading was from the Old Testament. It was Joshua 4:1-9.

Another perfect moment. A perfect message.

The next reading came from the New Testament. It was Mark 10: 13-16.

A sweet and beautiful message from the New Testament.

Thank you to both readers. You mean the world to us, and we are so blessed to have you both in our lives. We love you both very much.

Time for another beautiful song. This time he sang "Amazing Grace" A Capella. Absolutely stunning. Absolutely perfect. It was a moment that will never leave us because it was so powerful.

During the song, we could feel Jackson's presence.


We squeezed each others hand a little tighter, and I played with his bracelet because it comforted me. In that moment it felt like just us 3.  A little family.

Our son was there. We felt it.

Little did we know at the time, but Jackson was not done showing off for the day.

After "Amazing Grace" came the time to share the "Reflection Letters". These letters were read by the Head Football Coach and his adorable wife.

We want to share these letters with everyone. They are all amazing and so very special.
A letter from my sister, Mary Beth:

"Ever since that day in October when my sister told me she was pregnant, I could wait to be an Aunt. I thought of all the fun times we would have. I wondered if you would be athletic like your Dad or have almost no athletic ability like your Mom. I have no doubt that you would have had the best personality and had many friends.

No one knows why you came and went so fast, but God had bigger plans for you. You are my little Guardian Angel. I love you and I will miss you forever.

 Love, Aunt Mary Beth" 

A letter from Russ' mother, Cindy:

"How could anyone have ever known, in the blink of an eye, our exquisite little soul would take flight to become the most precious little angel, the most spectacular star in our universe.

In every sunrise I will see your face. I will remember and I will smile.

When the warm breeze caresses my face, I will feel my cheek touching yours, I will remember and I will smile.

When I hear children laughing, my heart will know the sound of your laughter and through the tears, I will smile.

Your perfect little spirit will live within us forever. May we always pause to see the beauty, hear the sweet sounds and never hesitate to express our love for one another.

I love you Jackson Neil DeLoach. I will see you in my dreams. Together we will sing, we will dance and will sit down and color. I believe your favorite color is blue and with that little left hand you will laugh and tell me, the two big circles are Mommy and Daddy and the zig zag is Lucy.

Helen Keller once said, "The best and most beautiful things in the world cannot be seen, nor touched, but are felt in the heart."

I love you forever,
Your Kya" 


A letter from my parents, Andy and Pat:

"We were going to write a letter to Jackson on the day of his birth to capture the joy and excitement of the day; the wonderful times all of us had preparing for his arrival; the overwhelming joy we would have experienced as we saw and held him for the first time; our hopes and dreams for a long and fulfilling life; our complete, total and undying love.

The letter did not get written, but we did get to hold him; tell him how much we love him; how much we will miss him as he goes to be with God.

Today we find ourselves burdened with unspeakable grief and sadness. Our hearts ache beyond description for Russ and Emily. If we could have traded our lives for Jackson, we would have gladly done so.

As parents, we were looking forward to seeing Russ and Emily grow into the role. Their deep love for each other and their loving preparation for Jackson arrival already made them fabulous parents. We pray they may be blessed as parents in the future.

Today, we also find ourselves surrounded by a great deal of love and support by many people, both here and elsewhere. We are truly blessed and grateful. We know there is enough faith and love to see us, Russ and Emily, and the extended family through the difficult days ahead.

We cannot undo what happened to our precious Jackson, but we will retain the memories of 'what might have been' in our hearts forever.  

Love,
Grandy and Papa"

A poem from Russ' sister, Abby:

"Do you feel that touch of air, that cools you through the heat?
Do you feel that ray of sun, your face alone shall meet?
Do you hear the wind sing low, at night its peaceful tune?
Do you see the halo shining, from a hidden moon?
Do you feel the tender touch, of a lonesome butterfly?
Do you hang their fragile wings and bless their light goodbyes?
Do you see a cotton cloud and dream a weightless thought?
Do you lose yourself inside, a timeless moment caught?
Do you see that tiny star, that catches your first glance?
Do you take the night as dim, but see that one star dance?
Do you feel the power that, comes through a single touch?
Do you love another life, you've never loved so much?

All the joys along the way, built mountains strong as stone.
Here on May the 7th, brought a battle never known.
Jackson Neil, my brothers boy, took flight with tiny wings.

He waits in white and shines on Two, finds love in everything.
He wants his Mom and Dad, to look for each and every way.
To see him in the tiny moments, keep his soul to stay.
He is all around our quiet life, each time your close your eyes.
A little tug will pull your heart, you'll feel that beauty rise.
Jackson will be our angel over love, and life to cope.
Sometimes what we need in life, are tiny shreds of hope."

And finally, our letter:

"To our sweet precious angel Jackson-


Words cannot describe how much we love you. We loved you long before you were ever a tiny heartbeat on a monitor. We dreamed of you and we know that we can still visit you in our dreams. We can feel you all around us all day, everyday. You made us parents and that is the most special gift that anyone could give us. Your hand print is permanently on our hearts and we will never stop loving you. We know that you will watch over us and guide us everyday because your heart was too big for this world, and it is your job to help keep us safe.


We love you forever

We like you for always

As long as we are living our baby boy you will be


We love you so much sweet angel.  ALWAYS and FOREVER.


Love,
Mommy and Daddy"


These letters are so special to us, and we are so grateful that the team of angels pushed us all to write them. We love how different they all are. We love that they all have a common thread of love and hope. It is beautiful and it is so powerful. We love how much you love and adore our son.


Thank you to the family members who wrote these letters. We know they were not easy to write. Your words were perfect, and so eloquently expressed how you feel and how much you love and miss Jackson. We will cherish these letters for the rest of our lives.

 After the letters, our officiant came up to speak about the Faith Journey. He spoke about the meaning and correlation between both the Old and New Testament readings. He talked about the symbolism of Jackson's footprints, and how we have something of his to hold on to and remember for the rest of our lives. His footprint is officially stamped on everyone.

He then moved on to speak about our phrase "Horrible but Hopeful". He did not spend much time on the horrible part, as there was no need to dwell there on this beautiful day. He really talked about HOPE. That is where he spent his time, and it was beautiful.

And our son decided to show up and show out during this part.

Right as he was speaking to HOPE, the sun came out. No joke. You could feel the warmth from the sun on your skin, and you could see it shining down on all of us in that amphitheater. Overcast to full sun in just a few seconds. The entire center of the amphitheater was full of sun. The birds chirped just a little louder. It was obvious. Our officiant even joked that "He had nothing to do with that!" during his talk.

Our son brought the sun.

Russ turned to me and said "He is here. I can feel it."

With tears flowing, I said "I know! He is here."

This time he squeezed my hand a little tighter, and I saw his head drop to his chest. He was overcome by emotion and the power of what we were experiencing.

The sun only lasted a few moments.

Just a few sweet moments that we will remember for the rest of our lives.

Those few precious moments gave not only us, but a whole lot of other people peace. Everyone noticed it, everyone felt it, and everyone was moved by it. Our son was there. Our son had his little hand on all of us that day.

Almost as soon as it came, the sun left.

Russ said, "He left to go play. He is gone now."

The sweetest comment from the greatest Daddy. I have never loved him more.

Our son brought the sun.


Forever touched, and forever changed by a tiny angel.

The memorial service closed with a Benediction from the High School Athletic Trainer. He did an outstanding job tying everything together, sharing some more beautiful messages, and bringing us all together in prayer. We could have sat and listened to him speak all day. Just like our officiant, he is grounded in his faith and has a brilliant way of sharing God's message.

After he was done speaking, he invited everyone in attendance to come down and see the family.

Before we knew it, there was this long line of people waiting to see us. We had no idea until that moment how many people were actually there. It was humbling.

The memorial was perfect. It was exactly what we wanted for our angel. It was a day that gave us peace and even more hope. We are not wondering anymore. No more searching. No more questions. We have peace.  We have everything that we need to be able to move forward one day at-a-time. Our son is exactly where he needs to be. Every parent wants their child to be happy, healthy, and safe. Our son is is just that.

It is well with our soul.


It is well.

 

Thank you to everyone that came out to Jackson's memorial.

Thank you to everyone that could not make it, and lit a candle in his honor that day.

Thank you for every silent, personal prayer that day and everyday.

Thank you to everyone who had your church congregation or small group pray for Jackson that day or that weekend.

Thank you for every hug.

Thank you for every tear.

Thank you for sharing stories of how our angel has already positively impacted your life.

Thank you for sharing the sweet, precious, innocent words your children have said in effort to comfort you as you dealt with Jackson's passing.  Children really do say the best things at the best times.

Thank you for every card, letter, book, piece of scripture, journal, e-mail, care package, meal, gift card, bouquet of flowers, and plant for our garden.

Thank you for every single donation to The March of Dimes. You all have raised more than $1,000 in his honor.  Keep it going. Lets rock the March of Dimes.

Thank you for reading this little blog. Who knew it would touch so many people all over the world. People are amazing and powerful. We are blown away.


Above all, THANK YOU for loving us. All 3 of us.

We look forward to sharing stories about his footprints, the new part of our lawn called "Jackson's Garden", and our first trip back to the Arboretum in upcoming posts.

Go outside. Feel the warmth and experience the beauty of the sun. Enjoy it.

We are.

Love,
Emily and Russ

Our Story

"We love you forever. We like you for always. As long as we are living, our baby boy you will be."-Modified from the "Love You Forever" book by Robert Munsch

Jackson Neil DeLoach
Born May 7, 2012
6 pounds, 13 ounces
20 inches





































This is our story. This is our life as we know it. It is a beautiful life and it is a hard life. That is all we know, and that is how we choose to look at it right now. There is beauty in pain. There is life in death. There is happiness in sorrow. But most of all....most of all there is love. You will find that when you read this blog, you will hear us reference HOPE. This is our chosen word that is getting us through not just one day at a time, but one hour at a time, and even sometimes one minute at a time.  We know that you can find hope anywhere, and we believe in our hearts that our son is telling us to have a whole lot of HOPE, FAITH and LOVE. We have HOPE for the future, we have strong FAITH that life will move forward, and we have so much LOVE for each other, our families, and our friends.  We will be better, and not bitter. We understand that this situation is definitely horrible (no doubt about that), but we are choosing to find hope in all of it. My mother said the following statement to us as soon as she arrived in the operating room after we had just learned the news that would forever change our lives...."We are going to walk right through the middle of this." You know what? She is right. Moms always are. If you did not know that, write it down. We will walk through this. Not today, but we will. We both know strength, and we both know how to get up and march. When our emotional and physical wounds are healed, you can find us marching forward because we have each other, our angel, and a legion of family and friends cheering for us every step of the way. There is a future for us, and good lordy is it beautiful.

I (Emily) will try to tell our story as best I can through the few pictures we have. As you get to know us, you will find that I love photography. It gives me peace and I feel like the creative side of my brain is fed when I am behind my camera. I have enjoyed photography even more since the passing of our Jackson. I can feel him tapping me on the shoulder telling me to get back to what I love.  A small reminder from our tiny angel.

Some pictures may not exactly "fit" what I am sharing, but the shot may just stand for something beautiful in a story with great heartache....look at the picture and see the HOPE. You will see it, I promise. We can see it and we believe in it.

On to our story.....

So, if we are starting from the top...and that is the only way I know to tell a story....Lets just go ahead and state right now that this story will be a long one.

Here we go....


The plan was simple. Buy a home, and then have a baby. How easy is that? The house part went perfectly. Actually...too perfectly. People warned us that if we could survive building a house together, we could survive anything. Not only did we survive it, but we loved it and loved each other through the whole thing. No fights, no wanting to hit the abort button...just us building a future that was and still is awesome. Well...maybe one squabble, and that had to do with pure exhaustion and starvation from the move-in. It is amazing how worked up you can get over hanging a lantern on a wall. Russ is very detail oriented and meticulous when it comes to projects....and me? I just like to throw a nail up on the wall, say a Hail Mary and hope for the best outcome possible.

We found ourselves to be so proud of our first little home and we immediately knew we wanted to fill it with children. Russ and I are "those people" that have always talked openly about children. I am fairly sure that we actually came up with the name Jackson Neil DeLoach over some boneless buffalo wings and beer on one of our very early dates. I knew I would marry Russ, and I also had this feeling that one day we would not only have children...but we would have a son, even though we did not care (and still do not care) what we had.  Turns out I was right.

So we got settled in the house and immediately started to focus on the future and bringing a child into the world.

 After some months of questioning what was going on and feeling frustrated, our prayers were answered! We were so excited! We saw an extremely early heartbeat at 6 1/2 weeks and we just knew this baby was going to make it and be so strong. I can remember the first time we saw him. It was the greatest moment in our lives. We were going to be parents. I remember thinking that walking down the aisle to a teary eyed groom was the greatest moment life had to offer. Now? It is seeing a tiny heartbeat on a embryo the size of a piece of rice.

We had a textbook pregnancy. I felt fabulous. Never felt better. Slept great, and just felt good about myself. I had some heartburn, but who really cares about that. To be quite honest, I loved being pregnant. We had a slight scare that started around week 32, but we hurdled all obstacles and Jackson chose the right path of staying in the oven for a bit longer. The upside to him scaring everyone is we got to see him on ultrasound more than we were supposed to. This really lifted our spirits. Everyone confirmed that he was happy and healthy. Nothing to be alarmed about. We loved seeing him and we could have sat and stared at the monitor all day. Who knew that those precious moments on a black and white monitor would be the only images we really have of him. We know he liked to stick his tongue out, and we know that he also liked to suck his thumb. He was also very active! He was beautiful and absolutely precious. A gift from God that we could not wait to meet.

So we made it to the 36 (I was almost 37 weeks) week appointment. Our sweet doctor cheered as we officially made it through the scary part and she assured us that we have a full term baby on our hands. If he came now, he is good to go. What a relief! After that appointment we went into full nesting mode. We made some final trips around town to get the last "must have" baby items on Saturday (5/5), washed and put away everything, and packed the hospital bag. We continued to nest on Sunday. I should have noted the energy surge I had on Sunday as a sign that he was coming. I went crazy on my company car, spray painted (with a mask on) a rocking chair and shelf for Jackson's room, and just had to make a batch of double chocolate brownies.

Later on that Sunday evening, we went down the street to our friends house for a cookout. It was a beautiful evening, and we enjoyed a nice meal outside on their patio. After we had finished a round of burgers, we moved onto my brownies. It was during the brownie portion of the party that my water officially broke! Not exactly where I dreamed it would happen, but thank goodness we were surrounded by close friends who had a little one not long ago. They sprung into action and we immediately fled the scene. I wonder if they want that towel they loaned me back? :)

We arrived back at our house and called the doctor. She told us to be at the hospital within 2 hours. We needed that hour or so to shower, pack, call our family, and calmly head to the hospital. I am a planner to my core, and I realized during that time at home that you are really never ready to go to the hospital. Our house felt like the opening scenes of the movie Home Alone.  We were both just running everywhere doing 1,000 things. I know Russ told me several times to just focus on getting myself dressed and ready, and he would handle everything else. Somehow, we managed to pull out of the driveway with our car loaded down like a sleigh. We were on time and all dolled up like we were going on a typical "date night". At that moment it seemed important to not only smell good, but to have on a fresh coat of my chapstick-lipgloss combination. I remember turning to Russ and saying "Next time we pull back in we will have Jackson with us." He smiled an unforgettable smile, and I am sure my heart skipped a beat. Those are the moments you remember because you waited your whole life to feel that way.

We were checked in by 10:00 PM and could not have been more excited! I still felt great, and did not feel like I was in labor at all. I did not enjoy the part where it felt like they were checking my tonsils through my you-know-what, but it had to be done to determine what was going on. The nurse told us that we were not even fully effaced (still holding at around 80-90% like we were at the appointment that past Friday), and we were not dilated. Since my water had broken, we had to stay at the hospital and they were going to have to probably move things along with pitocin. 

It was time to move from check-in to the official labor and delivery room! We were greeted and escorted to our room by our sweet night labor and delivery nurse. She made us feel comfortable and was determined to make this as smooth as possible. Not long after we were in our room we were visited by the doctor on call from our practice. She was fabulous, and walked us through a couple of options for how to move this labor along. We landed on pitocin.  I had some reservations, and it certainly was not what we had hoped for. I just knew it was going to send me straight into labor orbit and I knew it could cause some (or an ever loving ton) of pain. I was just fearful of it knowing that I had not even fully effaced or dilated yet. I could do the math in my head and I just knew that this little pitocin drip was going to rock my world.

The pitocin party started around midnight. Every 45 minutes to an hour they would crank it up to get the contractions going on a consistent pattern. Things started off smoothly and it was tolerable. Jackson was doing just fine, and so was I.

My mother, father and sister arrived at the hospital around 3:30 AM. They were so excited and it was so great to see them. I was really feeling the tough part of labor by that point, and they did everything they could to make me feel better. My mom and sister worked with me through the night so that Russ could get some much needed sleep. We got up and walked the halls and we even used the medicine ball to try to edge off the pain AND speed things up. We could tell by the monitor that Jackson was doing fantastic and we could also tell that I was contracting like crazy. We received a check-up around 5:00 and we learned that we were just 2-3 cm dilated. That was not fun news.  So they kept pushing that pitocin and encouraging me along the way. I reached a point where I needed something to help with the pain. I just kept saying "If I can get a break in these contractions, just for a minute or two, I will be good to go.". That is all I could think about. Just a small break. I requested some IV narcotics, and they delivered them. I swore they did not help, but my mom said it calmed me down and clearly took the edge off of things. I still felt tremendous pain and just wanted it to stop.

So about 7:00 AM, I was so done with the pain of labor. Put a fork in me, DONE. I could have been 3 cm or 10 cm at that point..I did not care. I was getting an epidural. In my mind I was not much more dilated that I was before, there was NO WAY I could be. I received the epidural a little after 7:00 and immediately felt much better. Thank you modern medicine. Thank you. Epidurals are a bea-u-ti-ful thing. It was shift change at the hospital, and we said goodbye to our night nurse. My OB doctor was on call next, so she came in shortly after the epidural to do a quick check. Let me tell you, we had low expectations for this check. We had just told my dad and sister to go home because we were SURE it would be a long long time before Jackson arrived.

She spent about 5 seconds down there and said "You are at 10 cm!". We all about fell on the floor. Seriously?!? When did that happen?! All we know is that I dilated quickly and it that is why I was really feeling so badly and in so much pain for those couple of hours in between checks. I am quite proud of myself for basically making it the whole way with little medication.
 
My mom called the family back to the hospital because we were told that we would probably have Jackson well before noon. You could feel the excitement and electricity in the room as we geared up for Push Fest 2K12!

There was a nice span of time between the check and pushing that we spent just relaxing and preparing for the hard part ahead. Russ' mother and sister arrived and we got to spend some good time with them before game time. The epidural allowed me to relax, regain some energy and be very present. We actually did not start pushing until around 9:30.

I have to take a minute and talk about our daytime labor and delivery nurse. Just typing this causes even more tears to flow down my already soaked face. I wish I could type her name, but you have to be sensitive about these types of things on the internet. What can I tell you? She was more than a nurse. She is an angel. She is a blessing. She is perfect. She is our friend. Have you ever met someone who impacts your life and you barely know them? She is that person. Have you met someone and you know they are doing exactly what they were called to do? She is that person. You will hear us talk about her many times throughout the remainder of our story, and you will probably hear us talk about her for the remainder of our lives. You will want to be around her and know her, I promise.

About 9:40ish we decided it was time to take a run at pushing. I was still having crazy contractions and we just knew it was time. We had all family leave and head off to the waiting room, except for my mom. She was almost out the door when Russ and I called her back. Something tugged at both of hearts at the same time, and we just knew that she needed to be there. We know that "something" was Jackson.

Pushing was hard. Pushing was very hard. My husband was something else. He counted like a true coach, and he even added extra seconds if I stopped pushing too early. Mom kept me breathing, Russ kept a good count, and our nurse called me out if I was not pushing properly. They cheered for me and said all kinds of motivational stuff that gave me confidence that I could get through it. This cycle lasted nearly 2 hours. My doctor came in periodically to check and helped me do a couple of rounds of pushing. That's right, 4 cheerleaders at one point. Party in our room.

Now is when our story turns quite sad and tragic.

Almost 2 hours exactly into pushing, Jackson's heartbeat went from a solid and consistent 140 BPM to 55 to nothing. Our nurse was frantically feeling around for a heartbeat and could not find it. She called in other nurses and even another doctor. They were trying everything they could to find a heartbeat. There was none. We heard the word "C-Section" and the rails went up on the bed. I was torn away from Russ and my mom. They wheeled me quickly down the hall to the OR. I was terrified. I could not breathe. I did not understand. They were all talking so fast and yelling.

We were in the OR and they quickly scanned for a heartbeat. There was none. They moved me from the bed to the operating table and strapped me down. They tried to ask me if I could feel anything and I could not even get words out at that point. I told them I could not feel anything, not even knowing if that was the truth. I wanted Russ and it felt like an eternity before they would deliver him to me. I felt the cut and my body swaying back and forth to get Jackson out. He was so far down in the birth canal. They had to work to get him out. I felt him come out of my body, but I never heard my sweet boy cry.  You live for that and you dream about it, and that moment never happened. As his mother, I needed to hear him cry.

They put a large oxygen mask on me to help me breathe. I can tell you that breathing is about the last thing I wanted to do at this point. I wanted to die. Hate to say it, but I did.  Finally, Russ was by my side. He was a mess. I was a mess. We both could not comprehend what was going on. Our nurse did her best to keep us calm and she bravely gave us reports. We knew the NICU team was working on him. I could hear them quietly working on Jackson. I could also hear them ripping open sterile surgical items to try to bring him back. The one thing we wanted and needed to hear never came. I turned my head to our nurse and said "I am not stupid, he has been down too long. Jackson is gone. I know it.".  I could do the math and I knew he was gone. I knew it long before we were actually told anything. At that moment, there was no hope.

Not too long after that we received the confirmation that our sweet Jackson did not make it. Our son gained his angel wings at 12:09 on May 7, 2012.

 This news came just minutes into an hour long surgery. All we could do was sit there and wait. It was awful. I was strapped down and my husband was practically balled up right beside my head. We were both wailing crying. I started to shake uncontrollably and they wrapped me up as best they could with some warm towels. At this point, we both wanted to die.

We told our nurse to go down to the waiting room and tell the family. Keep in mind that my mom had an idea of what was going on because she was in the labor and delivery room with us when we lost his heartbeat. My mom was able to tell the family some of what was going on before our nurse arrived.

While she was gone we requested that they allow another family member to be with us in the OR. We needed someone that we knew to be there and help us. We were in that place of not being able to breathe, speak, or more forward. Lord knows we could not understand. They told us they were going to get my mom and they would be back in a few minutes. A few minutes in that OR felt like a couple of hours.

Before they brought my mom in, the NICU doctor came to us and tried to explain what had happened. More than anything I remember him apologizing and trying to console us. He was a very kind man, and you can tell he was very shaken up. We knew the entire team did everything they could. We could see it on their faces. No one wants to see this happen. No one is prepared when this happens.

The whole operating room was crying. Not one dry eye. Many had to step out for few minutes to catch their breath. No one left though.

 Finally, they finished working on me. They lowered the sheets and turned off the lights. The reality of the situation set in. They moved me from the operating table to a rolling bed for transport to post-op. I could see everyone now. I think there had to be around 12 people in that OR, and they were all crying and hugging each other. Many were praying. Every one of them came up to Russ and I to offer their condolences and tearful apologies. They were all amazing.  It was a powerful moment that Russ and I will never forget. Our son touched all of them, and that is exactly what any parent would want for their child.

What happened next?

They put Jackson in my arms.

The team did not give us a choice in the matter, and we were skeptical of going through this process. They knew what they were doing, even though it was painful for them too. Looking back on it, we are so very grateful and glad they pushed us to hold him.

Let me tell you about our son, Jackson Neil DeLoach.

He was beautiful. He was the perfect hybrid of Russ and me. Jackson really looked like both of us. He clearly had my mouth and lips and brow line. He had Russ' chin and ears, as well as his hands and feet. We thought he would have a ton of hair, and he had just a little peach fuzz for hair. It almost had a strawberry tinge to it. He had full cheeks, and the sweetest nose that if we had to say...looks more like Russ' nose. He was so tiny and sweet. He had a permanent smile on his face that gave us the peace we needed to know that he was happy and safe.  He could not have been more precious.

They wheeled me down to the post-op area with Jackson in my arms, Russ and mom by my side and a brigade of nurses following us. That incredible team even went a step further to put us in a room that was tucked away from all the action on that floor. This allowed us to spend more time with him and allowed not just us, but what felt like the entire hospital, time to grieve. Many nurses, doctors and hospital personnel stopped in to see us. There was not one dry eye in the hospital, I can tell you that much. They had to hold me down there for 1 hour post-surgery for observation. That hour was a long and painful one. No one had answers and no one had words for what had just happened.

Our nurse was buzzing in and out of our room trying her best to console everyone. I admire how strong she was through all of this. Lord knows she was in just as much pain and agony as we were. She brought in Russ' mother at the most perfect time. Russ needed to hug her and have an emotional release with a member of his family. After that, there came a point where Russ and I needed a few minutes alone. The two moms took Jackson for a while, they turned off the lights, and all the nurses left the room. Russ and I were alone and we still had no words. Just tears. Lots of tears.

I can remember clearly turning a corner during this time with Russ. Thank God I did. The track I was on was going to lead me no where. I remember looking at his face buried in his hands and seeing his tear soaked shirt....and it hit me. Time to stop wanting to die and check-out of life. Time to live for my husband. He needed me, and he was not going to lose 2 of us in one day. I needed to trust that this amazing hospital would take care of me, and that I was going to be just fine.

The hour of post-op time was over. Time to move me to a room. They honored our request of NOT wanting to be on the Mother-Baby floor. That would have been unbearable. So, we begun the journey to the Women's MedSurg floor. I held Jackson tightly and cried the whole way.

We got settled in our little room and prepared to receive the rest of the family. 

The family slowly poured in the room and everyone got the chance to have a few minutes with Jackson. This was a very therapeutic time for all of us, and we are so thankful that our nurse made sure that we all had as much time as possible with him. We are also grateful that she took photos of this time because that is all we have of our angel. Russ and I have yet to view these photos, and we may never view them. However, there is comfort in knowing they are there.

We insisted on them getting his weight, length, and footprints. This was so important to us, and we wanted to know everything we could about him. Our nurse and another nurse worked diligently to create a memory box for us. They make these when a baby or child passes away. We have yet to go through the entire box,as it is too hard right now, but we will. We know there are some notes, scripture, a beautiful blue gown, some additional sets of footprints, as well as a very special knit hat and booties. The hat and booties are from the group "Love Not Forgotten" and that is a support group for parents who have lost a baby from conception through the first year of life. They meet on the 2nd and 4th Monday's of the month. Russ and I plan on not only attending this group in the coming weeks, but we also plan to be very active within the group. There is the hope shining through. We love you so much JND.

The hours flew by.

It was time for everyone to say goodbye to Jackson, and leave the hospital for the night. We watched as everyone hugged, kissed and loved on Jackson. They one by one exited the room for the night. Everyone was soaked from the tears and their were cheeks raw from the wiping the emotions of the day from their faces. No one really wanted to leave, just like no one really wanted to believe that this tragic event even happened.

I could feel my chest tighten as I realized that things were about to get quiet. Russ and I were not only going to be alone with Jackson, but soon it would be time to say goodbye.

The door shut, and everyone was gone.

Alone.

Just us three. The moment you waited for, just very different than you imagined.

We spent some more time looking at him, like any new parent would do. We kissed his toes and held his hands. We told him "We Love You" and "You are perfect", no less than 1,000 times. Finally, I pushed Russ to hold him. He was having a hard time with this, and I completely understood why. It is so hard. I needed to see him hold his son. I know my husband inside-and-out, and I knew on day he would regret not holding him.

Thankfully, he held him for a few minutes and it was so beautiful. He looked like pro holding him, and he had the moment with Jackson that his heart and soul needed. He was and still is a Daddy.

Russ told me that it was time.

Time to say goodbye. Time to let him go.

Those are the words that shatter your heart. Russ was so strong. He did not want to let him go either, he just knew it was time.

There is no measure of time that is enough with someone you love. 

We said to him:


"We will love you FOREVER."

As soon as we got those words out and a few final kisses and squeezes, the team arrived to pick him up. I tearfully handed him over to those very kind ladies and we said a prayer. I made them promise to take care of him and hold him tight. They swaddled him and took him from us. That is the last time we saw the love of our life, Jackson Neil DeLoach.

We spent the next 5 days in the hospital.


A team of angels put me back together again. I battled a high fever for a few days, and had to go through multiple rounds (and 3 different types) of IV antibiotics. We had a hard time pinpointing the problem. God Bless our doctor, and her tireless efforts to figure it out. After some additional testing, she nailed it and soon we were on the rebound. I would like to thank every doctor, nurse, CNA, and chaplain who took care of me. You all were more than medical personnel to us. You knew we were not only sad and broken, but we were scared. You soothed us and put both of us back together again. You protected us from many things and you watched our room like hawks to make sure we were safe. You hugged us. You cried with us. Many of you broke down in the room with us, and that just make you real. You were all strong, and we know that was not easy. We will never forget any of you, and you all are doing exactly what you are supposed to be doing with your life. You have been called to help others, and you are darn good at it. One day we will come visit you all and personally thank you for what you did for us. Thank You Mission Hospital Team. Thank You.

I want to take a few minutes to share with you all what happened from a medical perspective.

Umbilical cords can plant anywhere around the placenta. Our cord planted on the bottom on the placenta. This is not a bad thing. Many babies are successfully delivered with the cord attached there. Our cord was neither too long or too short. It was a perfectly good cord. The problem came when the cord detached from the placenta too early. It just wore off, clotted and broke away. This is why we lost the heartbeat so quickly. He got detached too early in the process. He lost his lifeline before he had the opportunity to take a breath. They did everything they could possibly do to save him.

This only happens to around 2-4% of total births.

It is extremely rare.

We are glad that we did the autopsy, otherwise we would not have known what happened.


Jackson was perfectly perfect. He was a healthy, fully developed baby. We just experienced an unfortunate series of medical events that caused our baby to go too soon. Nothing was wrong with him.

We use the phrase "Horrible but Hopeful" these days.

Yes this is horrible. Very horrible. No doubt about that. We experienced the highest of highs and the lowest of lows in just a matter of minutes. We prepared for life, not death. Horrible? You bet.

We are hopeful.

 We are hopeful about the future. We know that this type of tragedy will not happen to us again. We know we CAN and WILL have more children.  Next time, we will march right into that OR all done up like we are going to the prom and they will lift a baby right out of my belly. We will hear that baby cry. We will cry happy tears. We will win next time and the next time after that. That is our biggest hope, and that is a huge reason that Russ and I even get out of bed in the morning these days. We still have good and bad days, and we will for a very very long time. We just know that you have to look forward and you have to accept that life moves on--and it can and will be painful. Jackson will always have our heart, and we will never ever try to replace him. He made us parents, and that is the greatest gift he could have given us. He is our first born. The children that come next will know Jackson, and they will know they have a very special angel brother in heaven watching over them. He was and still is real. He lives. His footprint is on our heart forever. He made us parents, and little did he know, he made us better people. We will be better people NOT bitter people. Better for our angel son. Better for each other. Better for the world. I want the world to know our son because he is amazing. Touched by, and forever changed by a tiny angel.

"Because I knew you, I have been changed for good."-  For Good from Wicked


I like to look at it as I have had the opportunity to LOVE and BE LOVED by two outstanding men. My husband Russell Neil DeLoach and our baby, Jackson Neil DeLoach. These types of thoughts are the glue that is slowly putting my heart back together again.

One day, our arms will be full of baby again.

We HOPE it is not too long.

One day, we will open the doors to the nursery that we spent months preparing.

One day, we will take the sheets off of the furniture in the nursery and open the shutters to let the sun shine in.

One day we will have a Grand Re-Opening Party for the nursery. There will be champagne.  I hope to be drinking Sparkling Grape Juice on this day. Everyone will be invited.

One day, we will walk in there with a baby.

One day, happiness will fill that room.

One day, our hearts will be bursting with Love and Joy. The feeling of "This is it! This is it!" will come back to us and it will feel good.  It will feel right.

One day, we will rock and gently soothe a baby to sleep in the chair by the window.

One day, we will read books. We will sing songs and always say our prayers before bed.

One day, our son Jackson will send us the sibling he would have wanted. 


One day.

Right now it is closed. Right now it waits. Right now it is even hard to walk by.  Right now it is painful. Right now we have love for just one, and he deserves every bit of our love. After all, he has our hearts. Completely.

Hope.

Faith.

Love.

We believe.

This is our story. This is life. That is all we know.

Thank you for reading the first part of our story about our angel.

I am looking forward to sharing with you the celebration that we had for Jackson on May 12, 2012 in my next post. It was an amazing and perfect day. It is deserving of its own post because it is a beautiful story and the best tribute to our son.

Follow us and walk with us as we journey through life and share our stories.We have much to share.

This blogs name came from the sweet footprints that we have of our son. They are cherished by all of us, and are a lasting reminder of our Jackson. They became a beautiful part of the program for the memorial celebration of Jackson's life. Many people have been positively effected by these footprints, and I will share many of those stories with you in posts to come. Russ and I are in the process of finding an artist who can make these footprints into charms that we can both wear.

And the part about hope in the blog address? I think we are all on board with where that came from :)

Footprints and Hope.

We love you and miss you sweet angel Jackson. Always and Forever.

Love,
Emily and Russ