jasmine

Jasmine's Story

I'd like to share our story with you about our four precious children. We have two healthy daughters and a newborn son who was born on September 29th, 1999

Sadly, we lost our third child in April, 1997. She was stillborn at 30 weeks gestation. This is the story of Jasmine's short life and

unexpected death.

After Courtney and Sheridan's uneventful pregnancies and uncomplicated births, losing our third baby came as such a shock! Things had been going quite smoothly during the pregnancy, apart from some heartburn. I'd jokingly said to a friend after Sheridan's birth that I wouldn't need to take any 'precautions' to avoid a third pregnancy; just cross-stitch the word 'HEARTBURN' and place it

above my pillow. THAT should be enough incentive to convince me not to try again!!!!

But try again we did! We'd always wanted 3-4 kids and despite a few reservations I had about how I'd cope, due to an old back and shoulder injury, we soon found out that "Baby Number Three" was on it's way. I knew I was pregnant when one morning I could not face drinking my cup of coffee!! I
visited my doctor and said I suspected I was pregnant. "What makes you think that?" he asked. With as straight a face as possible I said "My main symptom is that I don't like the taste of coffee anymore." The look of surprise on his face at this strange 'symptom' of pregnancy was priceless!!! Then I told him I'd missed my period that month, felt nauseated, had tender breasts......

I get 'afternoon sickness' rather than morning sickness, which thankfully cleared up around 14 weeks.
Just before Christmas '96 we told Courtney and Sheridan that they would be sisters to another baby, one day 'soon'. They were so excited and begged to be able to tell their cousins at the Christmas party the next day.

By 17 weeks the heartburn hit with a vengeance! But I had greater concern on my mind. The blood test I'd had the previous week had revealed an elevated risk of having a 'Downs' baby. (It was 1:15. For my age I should have had a risk factor of 1:330) My doctor had tracked us down via a relative as we were on holidays and instructed us to get an ultrasound done as soon as practical. "There are
worse disabilities our baby could have. A spina bifida child would be a lot more work." I told Ken. (I have an older sister with spina bifida, so I knew the hassles and risks involved, but I also knew of the joy and enrichment she had built into my life.) Thankfully there were no signs of any abnormalities at the ultrasound the next day.

A long, hot summer dragged on and my tummy began to swell as the child within grew. Slowly the Autumn came and I began to plan all the jobs that needed to be done, so we were ready to welcome this new baby into our home. With Easter only a couple of weeks away and a two week break for the school holidays hot on it's heels, I decided the 'big clean up' of the Nursery could wait a little
while longer. My husband is a school teacher, so he'd be available to help with getting the baby clothes down from the top cupboards and any other heavy jobs. I didn't feel any need to rush these jobs through as I still had 12 weeks to go to my due date in early June.

A bad dream one night unsettled me. I dreamt that the baby had come early while we were away visiting friends 600 km away. The poor little mite, in my dream, had been transferred to a large city hospital and had nothing to wear as I hadn't taken any baby clothes or nappies with me on our trip!
The best way to deal with fear is to attack it head on! So rather than 'sit and stew' about my dream I packed a small "emergency bag" of a few basic things for me and the baby, in case it DID come while were away! I threw the bag into the boot of the car and then got on with living! That bag, with it's baby rug, nightie, shampoos and deodorant for me, was to come in very handy only a fortnight later when our baby girl did 'come early'. Sadly, the nappies and dummy (pacifier) would never be needed.

Over Easter I began to notice that the baby seemed sluggish. At first I wasn't too worried as I'd experienced episodes like this with both of my previous pregnancies. On one occasion with my pregnancy with Courtney, I'd mentioned my observations to my doctor who promptly ordered a CTG scan at a large hospital in a neighbouring town. My 'quiet and sluggish' baby kicked it's heels up
so much the nurses could only shake their heads in wonder at the 'panicky first-time mum'!!!

I sat in church on Good Friday waiting for a kick to reassure me that all was well. During the afternoon I expressed my concern to Ken and rang the midwife at our local hospital to arrange for a doppler to be done. We live in a small rural community in South Australia. The hospital only had an ancient hand-held doppler, but they were willing to listen for a heart beat. Thankfully they found one easily and, greatly reassured, I trotted off home. That night I lay in bed and felt a whole series of kicks and movements. At peace, I drifted off to sleep.

The next morning I awoke feeling cold and achy. I'd caught the dreaded 'lurgy' (flu) that was going around town! My temperature rose, my pulse was racing at 120 beats/per minute, and I felt FOUL!!! Lack of foetal movements forced me out of bed and back up to the hospital again. A faint heart beat was found, or so we all thought, but in hindsight, it was only my heartbeat they were picking up. Sadly our little baby had died during the previous night. (I thank God for allowing me to feel those last few movements as I lay there waiting for sleep to claim me. It's a really precious memory!) Armed with a packet of antibiotics I declined their offer of a bed for the night as I knew I would sleep better in my water bed at home.

By Sunday afternoon the heart wrenching l fears I had been trying to ignore began to surface again. Hang on, I reasoned with myself, you heard a heartbeat last night, so stop panicking!!! Not wanting to be labelled a 'paranoid peanut' by the hospital, I lay in bed unable to shake my worst fear that something dreadful had happened.

The story of Easter filled my mind:
*the agony of Jesus praying "Not my will but Yours be done.";
*the death of Jesus on a cruel cross to take the punishment for all my rebellion and wrong-doings and indeed the wrong-doings of every soul who had ever lived, so that we might live forever with Jesus in Heaven if we so choose;
*the raising of Jesus from the dead that proves he was more than just a mere mortal. It gives hope to anyone who believes, that they too can experience eternal life with God.

Struggling with all the implications of the way the Easter story related to me, I came to a point of 'knowing' or accepting that our baby's life was either in great danger or had already ended.

It came as no surprise really when the nurses couldn't find a heartbeat as I lay for the third time on the bed at my local hospital. Not willing to trust their ancient machine, they advised me to travel to a larger hospital in another town to consult my own doctor. As a person with the 'gift of the gab' (talkative!) that hour's journey was the quietest I've ever experienced. Ken didn't want to voice his
fears in case I got upset and I didn't want to voice mine in case he thought I was 'giving up' on our baby.

A CTG and an ultrasound confirmed what we already knew deep down. Watching her heart lying so still was heartbreaking for us. Then the doctor delivered the saddest words any parent could ever hear, "I'm sorry, but there's no hope for your baby." After a long labour, (it took 45 hours for my
body to give in to the prostaglandins and for my cervix to begin to dilate) we at last got to meet our precious third daughter, Jasmine Eliza at 10:20am on April 2nd, 1997.

Courtney and Sheridan were brought to the hospital to meet their sister. We still treasure the photos we took at that time. My parents drove four hours from the city to be with us and they too had the chance to see and hold
Jasmine. It's been the hardest experience I've ever had to face, but my heart goes out to those women who never had the chance to see or hold their baby. I'm certain our grief is resolving more easily because we were able to hold Jasmine and take photos etc.

Jasmine Eliza was buried in our local cemetery 8 days after her birth. We had a private family funeral mainly due to the fact I was still hospitalized with high blood pressure. We felt that Jasmine's funeral marked the closing of a chapter in our lives. If only the grief could be dealt with so easily! Out of sight is NOT out of mind!!! We've grieved deeply for our little girl. We gave our tear ducts a thorough 'wash out' in the weeks after Jasmine's death! We figured they aren't placed on our faces just for ornamental value!!!

However, words of scripture have really helped to comfort and sustain us.

Isaiah, the prophet, said of Jesus "Surely he has borne our griefs and carried our sorrows." We've found this to be so true. We have felt the comfort of God through the flowers, cards and phone calls that arrived and also from the hope (or assurance) that we'll see Jasmine again one day in Heaven.

My heart still aches at times as I ponder 'what might have been'. . I wish Jasmine could meet our new baby, Cameron Thomas, and that he could grow up knowing her. I wish that our two girls hadn't gone through such a sorrow at such a young age. But we have survived and found that life does go on, no matter how much I resented that fact in the early days of my grief!!! We have learnt to love and laugh and enjoy life again, despite the constant thought, "If only Jasmine was here to enjoy this too." She will always be our precious third baby, forever loved.

I wrote a few poems about Jasmine and about my journey through grief. It was great 'therapy', enabling me to express my thoughts rather than bottling them up. One of my poems is included on the poetry page. I hope and pray that you are able to identify with it and also that you find some comfort as you read it.
If you'd like to visit us at our website and see more photos of Jasmine or some of our new son then click here...you'd be most welcome to pay us a visit!

God bless,
Miriam.