Matthew Lee Neufeld

7 days. It seems like nothing big can occur in just 7 days. We twiddle our thumbs, bored. We log onto Facebook, check a few messages, write a few “hi’s” on walls, but to remind people we care. We kiss our loved ones. We might have dinner with our parents, but none of this is out of the ordinary. I mean really; what kind of impact can 7 days have on someone’s life?

7 day’s can bring you more joy then you ever thought you could feel. It can cause you worry, stress, and possibly frustration. It gives you hope, possibilities, and dreams. It also takes them all away.

Thursday, April 4^th, 2013 at 1:42pm, I found out I was 5 weeks, 1 day pregnant.

Tuesday, April 9^th, 2013 at 11:15am, I was told my baby miscarried, at 5 weeks, 6 days gestation.

Wednesday, April 10^th, 2013 at 7:34pm, I buried my baby in my parent’s backyard.

7 days can have a lot of impact…..

DAY 1:

I woke up on Thursday feeling weird. My period was late, and that was weird, for someone like me who has been so regular, I can almost tell you to the hour when everything’s coming. So of course, I went in and purchased a pregnancy test. It was only a week, I wasn’t too concerned. So I took the test, and decided to jump in the shower while it did its calculations, expecting the test to tell me I was fine, my method of avoiding a pregnancy was working, I was just over reacting to a tiny blip. I was only slightly shocked as I jumped out and saw two bright pink lines staring back at me. I of course texted my husband who was at work, a picture of the results with a message stating “WE NEED TO TALK!!!!!” He was a bit surprised and shocked, but, Oh SO happy!! I could see it in his texting, and his inability to type straight, or talk straight as he proceeded to call me 5 minutes later. I told him I was scheduling an appt. right away to verify the test, and got an appt. for that afternoon. I drove to the dr.s office nervous, and crossing my fingers that this was a mis-read. I mean, we had only been married a little over a month. We planned on having kids, but in 5-6 years, when I was done with school, and we were financially sound, not now. 

The dr. gave me a cup, took me to the bathroom, and told me to take my time. I was in a daze. I peed in the cup, worried that it wouldn’t be enough, or would be too much, or that I didn’t do it right, and it would mess the system up. I waited in the drs. Office a total of 5 minutes, before she walked in and said “It’s positive”   She had to repeat herself 3-4 times as I was in shock. 

In 5 minutes My whole plan changed. My budget, my schooling, even my work, was about to change. But I wasn’t sad. As she talked about options, and what I needed to do now, and what to expect, I just nodded my head, not really sure if she was speaking English or not, because it didn’t matter. There was a baby in me. My baby. Gabe and I’s baby. 5 weeks, 1 day and I was already in love with this child. Wondering  what its big eyes would like at night when I rocked it back to sleep after being rudely woken for a midnight feeding. Imagining a big toothless grin drooling all over me. Picturing its hand in mine as it took its first steps. Oh I was definitely scared, but I was so happy! 

I called Gabe who was on cloud 9. He had never been one to hide his desire for children, despite his agreement that we should wait (oops). We both agreed to tell our families together, and that they should be the first to know. But of course we were so excited we agreed to tell only 1 person each. I called my close friend, who squealed with delight. I almost think she was more excited then I was. We talked for an hour, before I had to get to work. I was happy, and day dreamy the whole evening. When I finally got home, I told Gabe, I don’t want to wait any longer, I know it’s late(11pm) but can we please call our families. He had been hoping I’d say that. Knowing he couldn’t wait. We called his parents first, “three guess’s” Gabe said. “A house?” his dad answered “A Baby??” his mom answered, we told them with huge smiles on our faces, and they were in shock. They had barely adjusted to a daughter-in-law, and now a grand-kid? Of course they were overjoyed, supportive and excited with us. Next we called my parents. I could hear the smiles on their faces as we told them. Grandparents, again; it was so soon, but such a joy for them to hear the news! They prayed for us, offered support and encouragement and said goodnight. That night Gabe and I laid awake discussing names, until both of us fell asleep, from exhaustion.

DAY 2:

I slept in late that day. My earliest appt. was a lunch meeting with my mom, I was fighting a tickle in my throat, along with hot and cold chills, and considered calling off lunch and going into the dr.(I had work later that day, and as a caregiver, I can’t be contagious, as it’s dangerous for patients health) but after the news of yesterday, I so wanted to see my mother, and talk with her, and discuss everything. I was still floating, though I wouldn’t admit it. My mother, being the proud grandma, had told everybody in her office, and congratulations came when I entered her corner. 

We left for lunch, and proceeded to discuss the future, and plans, and what lies ahead, amongst so many other things. After lunch was finished, I was still not feeling well, and my mom suggested I was coming down with something. I agreed, and knowing work needed me healthy decided to go in and take a strep test.(my little brother whom I had seen a few days before had it), with a 100.7 degree temp, 136bpm heart  rate, and a positive strep test, I was on my way to the pharmacy, unhappily calling in sick to work, and calling my husband to let him know. I went home, and slept/netflixed most of the day away. My sweet husband came home that night, with treats, and Gatorade, which I happily drank, and managed to spill all over the bed. He joined me in my sick haven and we chatted, until I fell asleep. I tossed and turned most of the night…

DAY 3:

Waking up in an awful mood, my sweet husband offered me my meds, endearing looks, and lots of hugs, as he trotted off to work for the day. I lay there, sweating and miserable. My head pounding, and getting dizzy every time I stood up, my body ached in every joint, and Gatorade and food was burning my throat. I drank 32 oz, and was feeling sick in my stomach. By the time my husband came home, I sent him back out to buy a thermometer, and a smoothie, hoping it would soothe my throat (plus I was starving) He came back, and my temp came out at 103. We both looked at each other. I started doing Google searches on temps and babies, and for an hour we contemplated, what we should do, we waited and took my temp again, but still 103.  We cleaned it off and took his temp, 100% normal. The meter wasn’t broken. Finally after conferring with parents, and internet, we decided it was best to go in. Shivering, dizzy, dazed, sore, scared, with a fever, and cramping, I walked in to the ER, and they took me into Triage for an initial exam. Temp 102.4, 142bpm heart rate, and, in their words, scary symptoms. We called my parents, who said they would be down soon to wait with us, and waited 15 minutes for them to call us back to a room. They stuck me on a bed, put in an IV, took some blood samples, and explained they wanted to do a dozen other tests. Pregnant + symptoms=overkill. I wasn’t concerned for me, but was the baby ok. The nurse reassured me, everything would be ok, and left. My mother arrived, and both Gabe and I felt relief. A mother is comforting at any age!! We gave her an update as they hooked me up to fluids, and gave me Tylenol. They quickly took me to get a chest x-ray. Followed by an ultra sound, the conditions weren’t what we expected, but Gabe and I were both ready to see our baby. The was super nice, and took his time letting us ask questions, and lingering a little bit on each picture. It was just a blob, but it was real. The picture of my insides could not be faked. There was a baby inside me, growing, thriving, and we loved it!! We were both still concerned about being in the ER, but for 5 minutes in a dark room, it didn’t matter, we held each other’s hands, and smiled in adoration at this miracle, this gift, however unexpected. Finally it was done, and we went back to our room, and waited, I was started on an anti-biotic, and some more fluids, and slept off and on, between laughing at the jokes flying. I was already feeling batter. And by 1am, I was ready to go home. The doctor couldn’t find anything wrong, no bleeding, no cramping, no signs the pregnancy wasn’t healthy, and my health seemed better. He suggested rest, and prenatal’s, along with Tylenol to keep my fever down. I was restless, but went to sleep after a long tiring day.

DAY 4:

I woke up, at 7am panicking thinking Gabe was late for work, he looks at me groggily and reminds me it’s Sunday, and that after last night, I needed to rest the day away. So we did, we rested, we watched movies, I had a few sips of a smoothie, a couple bites of ice cream, yogurt, bananas, apple sauce, LOTS of water. And we just spent the day together in bed, watching movies, talking day dreaming, planning a future, with the baby we saw. Laughing, pondering, dreaming, it was such a good day that when 8pm hit, we were both ready to go to bed, and savor it. But not before we watched Men In Black 3 J

DAY 5:

I woke up, and I’m not going to lie, I felt like half the week had been spent in the bathroom, my bladder was going like crazy, anyways, used the bathroom, and I noticed spotting. I became a bit concerned, but brushed it off, until I saw it a second time, and a third, and a fourth. My mother called me, to see how I was around 11am. I asked her if I should be concerned, and she said very, and told me to call the dr. immediately. She came over right away, we called; the nurse said, light spotting was normal, but to call back if It got worse, turned into pain, or continued for 24-48 hours. I was not comforted, and my mother put me on strict bed rest for a few days, which my husband was sure I followed. He did the laundry, dishes, garbage, fed the pets, did the litters, made dinner, brought me waters, meds, folded, cleaned, you name it, he did it, with a smile on his face, and a kiss on my forehead. I felt guilty as I watched Netflix, and was only able to help fold laundry. But he just reassured me it was best this way. By the end of the day, my temp was down and I was feeling much better. I was still spotting, but I was better. I was tired, and I hadn’t done anything.

Day 6:

I woke up early, as my husband left for work. Used the bathroom, and my stomach began hurting. The bleeding was continuing, and getting heavier. By this point concern was turning to panic. I had been telling the baby all week, baby’s not allowed to be abnormal; we have too many nuts in the family. Baby of course was not going to listen to me. I proceeded to call the clinic back, and they weren’t open for another 15 minutes. So I waited, counting down, nervously tapping my foot, waiting for the clock to hit 8:30am. FINALLY, after what seemed like forever, it did. And I dialed. I told them what was going on, and the lady said I had to come in right away, not to panic, but they need to do a check-up. She booked me for the nearest opening, and I hung up. I called my mom first, asking her to drive me. I then called Gabe, explained what was happening, He was worried, but was supportive, wanted to know as soon as I knew anything, and was praying for us. 

I waited for my mother to show up, and talked to the baby, we discussed how to treat mommies, and how pulling stunts like this was not a nice idea, unless you said “just kidding” very soon after, because these jokes were scary. I explained how much mommy loved baby, and then to get my mind off of everything, I decided we needed to laugh, so We watched theskitguys on you tube, the first video that popped up was “Little Billy: My God is so great..” I figured it was good as any; I loved the Little Billy skits. I pressed play, and laughed for 10 minutes straight, at the ad lib, innocent humor, and my ability to relate to the Sunday school teacher. But as the end got near, the teacher who is so desperately trying to get the kids to sing “My God is so great, So strong and So Mighty, There’s nothing my God cannot do, For You” And the kids refusing, because this guy is not their sick teacher, miss Linda, He is just her husband, and it’s not the same from her, She can only sing her favorite song…. The teacher finally breaks down. And in a swift moment it comes out, sick teacher Linda has cancer, and the substitute, her husband, just wanted to sing her favorite song. Why? So that when he faced her tonight, his brave, sick, beautiful, smiling wife, He might have the strength to remember that “God is so great, so strong and so mighty, there’s nothing His God cannot do, for you” The video ended with one of the kids singing the song, and I sat there, just crying.

MY God is SOOO great! SO strong and mighty, there truly is nothing He would not do for me, HIS child. And it was in that moment that I said, “ok God, OUR baby is in your hands, PLEEEEEASE watch over and protect our baby, right now.” My mom arrived a few minutes later. At this point I was mostly quiet, just thinking. We got in the car, and she drove me to the hospital. I waited for her in the lobby as she parked the car, every baby was extenuated. I held my stomach, praying everything was ok. My mom came in, insisted she wheelchair me up, and we checked into the appt. we were 20 mins early, but that didn’t matter. They called us back; I barely heard the questions the nurse was asking me, I vaguely heard something asked about soaking taco’s (smoking tobacco) and drinking aqua (alcohol). Yeah, I was that out of it.

The midwife student came in, asked a few more questions and reassured me everything was ok, they just needed to do a quick internal exam, she told me this is a common thing for people, it’s probably something minor, and that we should be ok. She left to get the midwife, while I changed into a gown and sat on the table. They both came in, I placed my feet in the stir-ups, my mother holding my hand, and they began the exam. They swabbed blood, for a few minutes and told me, there is a small piece of tissue they need to remove, where the blood seems to be coming from, but otherwise it all seems ok. I sighed a breath of relief, it was all ok. A couple minutes later, they removed the tissue, and they paused, then put the tissue in a bowl, and covered it up. The mid-wife calmly said, it seems the tissue we removed, was the baby, you have officially had a miscarriage.

I couldn’t breathe, and then as I tried to speak, I couldn’t, hot tears began pouring down my cheek, as my mother leaned over me crying. The only thoughts running through my head were incomplete at best, and running over each other… what went wr…. How did this ha....It didn’t make sen… couldn’t be true!!They helped me sit up, by this point I had gained enough control to not cry as they explained my options, bring the baby home, or leave it with them, they told me what happened, and possible reasons why, but nothing was being heard. My mom finally asked them for a few minutes of privacy. They shut the door behind them, and I sobbed. I stopped long enough to put my clothes back on. And then I sobbed some more. I had been dreaming of, talking with, and crying out to God for this baby. I was listening to every person and doing what they told me to do, so I wouldn’t harm my baby. I knew I had to call Gabe, I dialed the number, and as soon as I heard his voice, I broke down again; how do I tell him, the baby he wanted, made, loved, and dreamed about with me, was dead. It had no future with us. It took 5 minutes to get the words out, to explain amidst blubbers, and tears. He told me he loved me, and that he would get off work as soon as he could, and meet me wherever I am. He suggested I go to my parent’s house, and I agreed. 

I got off the phone, and my mom and I sat there, crying, talking, and discussing what’s next. The midwife came in; I decided to bring the baby home, so she placed it in a jar for me, in a bag. She handed me a book, and a small memorial stone. She discussed grief, and told me a dozen times it wasn’t my fault, and there was nothing I could have done.  The baby wouldn’t have survived no matter what I or doctors did to help/prevent this. They told me how sorry they were, and both ladies gave me and my mother a hug. I walked out, with the baby in my hand, feeling heavy. No emotion could cover what I felt. 

I sat in the car considering what she said, no doctors could prevent this…. My baby, my cherub, had been sick, and no doctor on earth could fix it. I shut my eyes and got this mental image of God holding my baby, He looked at me and said “Kelly, there is no doctor who could fix our baby, so I’m taking this little one, and I’m going to fix everything, so when you see this baby again, one day, everything will be perfect.”  I cried, and kept muttering to myself “My God is so great, so strong and so mighty there’s nothing my God cannot do” Over and over and over.. We met Gabe at my parents house, and we sat on the couch, just crying together…… once the first round ended, we went to lunch, my mother, Gabe, and I, and tried to laugh, and joke, amidst tears. We came home, and all of us were tired, we sat on the couches, not saying much, in a daze. My mom watched TV, Gabe fell asleep, and I watched the dog running back and forth. All of us hurting differently and all of us mourning the loss. 

My little brother, little sister, and father arrived home, a while later. Gabe and I found ourselves downstairs awhile later. And after much discussion, more crying, some laughing, and mourning. 

We named our baby…

Matthew Lee Neufeld

Matthew meaning Gift from God, even though we only knew about him a short time, his very presence was a gift. And we never wanted to forget that.

Lee meaning Healer. During his short time, he healed us of a lot of fear, and his memory, will continue to bring healing to our family.

I was a mother, my eldest brother reminded me, during a telephone conversation we had, somewhere amidst daze, and no one could take that away. I am a daughter, a sister, a wife, and a mother. I have a child. Whether its presence is on earth or not, that is my child. Matthew Lee Neufeld, is my baby. God knows the plans for my future, and Matthew Lee was not a mistake.

We decided to bury Matthew in my parent’s backyard, but not today, Gabe and I wanted an intimate prayer service. We decided we would do it Wednesday, because by the time we talked about it, it was late. We told our parents, they were glad to let us bury the baby nearby. They prayed with us, for us, and over us. And when we were done I was crying, again.

My sister decided she couldn’t stay the night, so I drove her back to her school, 30 minutes away, and decided to swing by my apt. to pick up a few things for Gabe and I for the night. I sat on the floor crying out to God. After being silent all day, I verbally yelled. I was ANGRY, HURT, UPSET, just to name a few emotions. Why did he make me let my baby go? Why did he make me fall in love with my baby only to take it away? Why would he give use a gift, and then not let us keep it? Nothing made sense, No answer came to my mind… except the image of my baby in Jesus arms, and the song “My God is so great, so strong and so mighty there’s nothing my God cannot do”

I came home, exhausted.

DAY 7:

After waking up at 2pm, I was numb. I didn’t want to feel. I didn’t want to think. I just wanted to breathe. Breathe and be quiet. I sat in my parent’s family room, not really watching the TV, or paying attention to what I was doing on the computer. I hadn’t told anyone, outside of family, and a few close friends. My head hurt from all of the nothingness. I took a long shower, to just waste time, counting down the seconds until I would place my baby in the frozen ground. I watched Gabe dig the hole from inside the house, and pulled my baby closer. Continuing to count down the minutes until we would gather. 7 days, and I wasn’t ready to let go. How do you say goodbye to your baby? How do you hurt over someone you’ve known for such a short time? I looked at him and felt like a failure. I felt as though I had failed to protect, my precious gift. Even if I knew that it wasn’t true, it didn’t help the feelings.

Gabe came inside, and we all sat around the living room; I clutching the baby, Gabe was holding my free hands, and my family sitting across from us. Everyone said a few words, followed by a small prayer service. Short, sweet, simple, just like our little Matthews life. Nothing fancy was needed. We proceeded out to the back yard, standing over the hole Gabe had dug out. After a few more words, I barely seemed to hear, I knelt down, and laid my baby in the cold ground. I watched as Gabe filled the hole with dirt. I couldn’t cry, I had no more tears left. He placed a stone over the spot, and stood beside me. We stood there, in the cold, rainy, windy weather, and just stared at the rock. Neither of us saying anything. Our family walked inside, and we continued to stand there.

How does someone go from point A to point B all in a matter of days? How does someone emotionally recover from the ups and downs? In 7 days, I had and lost a baby. I loved my baby, and I wept for my baby. In 7 days, the very word mom made me long to hear that word from my own child. Every baby I passed made me imagine holding my children. In 7 days, a person can change a lot!

“My God is so great, so strong and so mighty there’s nothing my God cannot do”

Mommy and Daddy will miss you Matthew Lee Neufeld.