Joshua Dietrich

Martin and I hadn't discussed names very much before we got Joshua's diagnosis.  We were waiting to find out if we were having a boy or a girl.  But in previous name discussions during my first two pregnancies, Joshua had always come up for a boy name.  We ruled it out because it was too common and didn't want our child in a class with ten other kids with his name.  (The irony is that Dylan has probably encountered more Dylans (with various spellings) his age than Joshuas.)  After we got the diagnosis, we had a number of discussions about girl names but the boy name was easy.  He would be Joshua.  The discussion went something like this:  "I was thinking Joshua for a boy."  "I was thinking the exact same thing."  I think by the time we the discussion, we thought we were having a girl but with the uncertainty we knew we needed a boy name too.

Joshua's middle name came pretty easily too.  Martin had wanted Dylan's name to be Dylan Dietrich.  I vetoed the DD.  Plus, I didn't want to give our child two names that were unique (at least I thought Dylan was at the time) in case he want to use something not so unique later in life.  (Now Dylan actually says he wishes his name was Owen so I have no idea what I thought I was helping there.)  So Dietrich was always a middle name on our short list.  It honors Martin's German heritage and Dietrich Bonhoeffer, the great Christian theologian and martyr during the time of Nazis.  Again, one of us suggested it and the other agreed immediately.  Of course we ended up coming up with a great girl's name too (Kayla Hope) but that was a lot harder process.    

There was quite a bit of uncertainty as to whether our third child would be a boy or a girl.  Looking back now I see why.  Because of the Trisomy 18 and how that affected his weight and bone structure, it would have been very difficult to see that he was a boy since his body and hips were kinda folded in.  He was clearly a boy, but I don't know if any sonogram could have shown that.  One doctor (not a radiologist) said he couldn't see anything and that most Trisomy babies were girls so that's why we thought the possibility of having a girl was better than 50/50.  Dylan and Lydia protested at first when we told them this because they thought we were having a boy.  Turns out they were right.

I too thought we were having a boy before that doctor told us probably not.  I had what I would call a day-dream that I didn't seem to have total control over.  (Don't want to freak anyone out and say I had a vision.)  It was me imagining a grown man calling me mom.  I guess it was like we were meeting for the first time in heaven.  But why did I imagine a man an not a woman?  I can't tell you.  It was not a conscious decision.  That coupled with the ease of coming up with a boy name and the kids insisting it was a boy made me think/hope we were having a boy. 

Granted there would have been some good things about him being a girl - the bible verse we picked was based on the girls name we finally came up with.  Kayla means "Who is like God?" and that, along with the talk of hope and loving God from the womb, is found in Psalm 71 which we still used as Joshua's verse.  And Kayla would have keep with the trend in our kids of using Ys, Ls, and As in first names.  But I'm so glad we got to name him Joshua which means "the Lord Saves."  As demonstrated especially in Joshua's life, it is the Lord Jesus who saves us, not by any works of our own.  

 

Today we celebrate Joshua's home-going.  Because it is the Lord who saves, we have confidence that Joshua is in heaven with Jesus and thus we can celebrate.         

Joshua's Birth Story

The kids love to hear their birth stories. I told them after Joshua was born that I would have 3 stories to tell them. So now they ask for Joshua's birth story too. I feel like I've told a lot of the story through other posts or emails, and if you were at the funeral you got to read my nurse's recollection of the events. But here is the story in its entirety.

On Thanksgiving Day, we went to church in the morning. My parents and brother were visiting from Pennsylvania and so I sat in the back of the van with my mom and Dylan. When we got home, as I was climbing out of the van, I felt what I thought at the time was a false contraction. I was 37 weeks and 1 day along in the pregnancy at this point. I took it easy for a few minutes and the contraction went away so I started getting Thanksgiving dinner ready with my mom. My friend Amy arrived and we sat down to eat around 1pm. I started to feel something again while we were putting the food on the table but again, I just thought it was the type of thing that when you just sit down for a while it just goes away. We ate our meal and cleaned up, and then I sat in the kitchen talking with Amy for a while. After she left I started feeling more contractions so I said I should take it easy the rest of the day. At about 5pm, I sat down on the couch and didn't get up until my water broke at 9pm. While I was on the couch, I told my parents and Martin that I was feeling something but I was sure it wasn't labor. In my head, I remember being worried that this might lead to me going into labor sooner than expected - maybe the next day or the day after. I remember asking God, please, if we are going to do this soon, let's do it before my parents are in the middle of moving my brother (on Saturday). Well, that was another prayer He answered. I could tell my water was breaking about 3 seconds before it actually happened so I leaped from the couch to the hard wood floor (gotta protect the furniture and carpets!)  I remember almost shaking with fear but tried not to let it show.  I went upstairs to get cleaned up and finish packing my suitcase. We had procrastinated in putting the kids to bed that night so they were still up. We told them goodnight and that we were going to the hospital to have the baby. I asked Dylan to pray for us.

On the way to the hospital we called our friends from our home fellowship group, Krista, Jan, and Lisa. They made some phone calls for us and started praying. Unbeknownst to us at the time, they came to the hospital to pray there and had called our senior pastor who left his family gathering in central VA to come to the hospital too. We arrived at the hospital just before 10pm.

We signed in at the ER and were escorted upstairs.  We saw Dr. Pereira on our way into the triage room.  She joined us after I changed and the nurses (I was introduced to 2 or 3 but Cat was to be "my nurse") got me hooked up to the ultrasound.  The baby was still breech.  Next question:  when was the last time you ate?  I said 7:30pm because I had had a turkey sandwich about that time but I hadn't eaten much.  Supposedly, they want you to wait 6 hours after eating to have surgery because you could aspirate.  I still don't understand all that since I had a spinal and was never "under" but the waiting period became moot anyway.  At that point we were thinking C-section around 1:30am but all the prep needed to start soon.  So they walk me over to room 1, and I go to the bathroom before they start hooking me up to all the machines.  The anesthesiologist comes in to do her pre-op.  I'm still in the bathroom so Martin tries to answer the questions.  I come back out and Cat starts checking heartbeats, some guy comes and takes my blood, I try to call my mom to update her on what's happening, they are bringing Martin his surgery clothes, and another nurse hooks up my IV to the back of my hand which someone told me later was a weird place to put it, but it turns out it was just this nurse's way of doing it.  So a lot is going on.  I didn't realize it at the time but even at this point there was some concern with the baby's heartbeat - dipping low for a minute and then going back up.  The anesthesiologist comes back and I finish answering the questions including telling her my wisdom teeth story about speaking Spanish when I work up (the only time I've been "under" in my life).  I felt another gush and the nurse checked and I was bleeding.  So because of that and the heart rate concerns they decided to move the c-section up.  It was about 11:20pm.

They wheel me into the operating room about 15-20 minutes later but Martin wasn't allowed in yet. I'm wondering where he is because I didn't know he couldn't come in.  I'd never been in an operating room before.  The room was so white and bright with lots of cold, silver metal.  It's time for the local.  (Remember I went through a non-medicated birth with Dylan to avoid this part although I did have an epidural with Lydia.)  There are a bunch of nurses in the room that I don't know and all seem to be working pretty quickly.  One holds me while I'm holding a pillow as the anesthesiologist is doing the local.  Martin wasn't there, and I have never been more scared in all my life.  Not just for what was happening to me but for what was happening to my child.  I knew that even though this was the moment of his/her birth, this also meant the end was near for his/her life.   

After they got the needle in my back, I lay down on the table and there's another surge of blood with clots.  Later we found out that the bleeding was because I had "placental abruption" - basically the placenta broke away from the uterus.  They checked the baby's heartbeat and it was low and not going back up.  Time for the hurry-up offense.  I remember the nurse asking someone "do you want to do [x]" and the answer was "no, just [y]" but I either don't remember or didn't understand what they meant.  I think it might have been that instead of the normal antiseptic, the nurse sprayed my abdomen with something.  After that the curtain went up, Martin came in (he was the only man in the room), and we were just left to wonder what was going on.  I remember telling Martin that it felt so weird.  My lower body was moving from side to side and it felt like the doctor was pushing and pulling roughly but I didn't feel any pain.  I realized my sciatic pain that I had had for weeks was gone.

Next thing we knew someone yells 23-58.  It took me a while to process but I realized that was the time.  My baby was born at 11:58pm.  Martin and I looked over to the table where the doctors were examining our child.  We saw the scale said 2.3 lbs.  The baby doctor and Cat discuss the fact that he was a boy and that we only thought it might be a girl.  Cat tells us its a boy.  Martin says his name - it's Joshua Dietrich.

The baby doctor hands Joshua over to Martin.  The doctor tells us she agrees with the Trisomy 18 diagnosis and that Joshua's apgars were 1 and 2. She asks if we have any questions. I forget everything I wanted to ask. Martin asks how long she thought we had. She says a couple hours, maybe. Cat takes a picture. That will come to be the only picture we have of Joshua alive. It's the one I posted on this blog announcing Joshua's birth.

Martin and I have a sweet time with him in the operating room. Martin held him and I held his tiny head in my hand. Martin spoke to him about the people who loved him including his Savior and on cue after Martin finished a sentence, Joshua nodded his head while taking a breath. Martin told him about Jesus and prayed over him. We told him about his family - his big brother and his big sister, his grandparents, his aunts and uncles, his cousins. We sang hymns and praise songs.

At about 12:45am as we are leaving the operating room, we realize Joshua hasn't taken a breath in a long time.

We get to the recovery room and Cat tells us about our visitors. She asks how much time we want alone. We say to give us 10 minutes. I call my family to tell them what happened. Our friend Ted and our pastor John walk in. I felt so honored that our senior pastor would be there especially on a holiday and that late at night. John prays for us. Krista, Jan, and Lisa come in. They had been there praying the entire time. Lisa offers to go to our house to stay with the kids so my family can come and see us.

The baby doctor evaluated Joshua at 1:15am and officially pronounces him gone. Cat helped me unwrap Joshua so I could see his entire body. She takes him next door for photos, footprints, and measurements.  I get moved to delivery room 13 instead of a post partum room - this is the room where Dylan was born.  My Mom and Dad and my brother Justin arrive.  Cat brings Joshua back.  John is still there and prays again.  Everyone leaves by 3:30am.  Cat gave us a memory box with the photos and other mementos.  (Cat was such a great nurse.  There are certain nurses at that hospital who volunteer for deliveries like mine.  She had seen this type of thing before and knew exactly what to do and say.  She knew we would want to have as many things as possible to keep from our time with Joshua.)

After that we try to sleep.  We lay Joshua in the bassinet by my bed.  At 6am I wake up and want to hold him.  He's cold.

At 7:30am I get a new nurse - Diana.  She was the perfect person to have that day.  She was a Christian and she was very nice and sympathetic.  She and Cat called the Now I Lay My Down To Sleep photographer who came around 10 or 11am to take pictures.

After the pictures, Martin says it's time.  I say "for what?"  He meant for Joshua's body to go to the morgue.  I was definitely not ready for that.  Diana realized that and allowed us to take our time.  When Martin convinced me it was time, Diana was great and made sure we knew what was going to happen and where his body would be.  To say that seeing him being wheeled out of that room was the hardest thing I've ever had to do in my life is an understatement.

Later that day, Martin went home and he brought Dylan and Lydia and my mom to visit. One of our other pastors (James) also came to see me.  At 7:30pm when I got my new nurse, she said I had to get up and walk before I went to bed.  The next day, the new nurse said I had to take a shower that day.  I thought they were both crazy.  But strangely I recovered quickly and was able to do both those things.  The third and last night I was there, Cat was back.  She requested to be my nurse again.  (Since I was not moved to the post-partum area, I had labor and delivery nurses my entire 3 day stay.)  That night I asked her to write down how she remembered the events of Joshua's birth because the timing of everything was a blur and I wanted to make sure I remembered as much as I could.  She honored my request and even added a message at the end about how strong she thought I was.

Looking back I can say it was only by the grace of God, poured out to us in a sufficient and great amount measured by the difficulty of our situation, that got us through.  It is by that grace that I will get through today and all the days to come.  

Thanksgiving and Rememberance

While today is not Joshua's birthday, Thanksgiving will always be a day that we remember Joshua and give thanks for his life as well as the many other blessings in our life.

As part of the celebration of Joshua's life that we will be doing this week, I've decided to complete some of my long over due posts including Joshua's birth story and how we picked his name and my thoughts on whether he was going to be a boy or girl.

Thank you all for continuing to walk with us in our journey of grief and supporting us with your prayers.  It means so much to us when someone remembers Joshua especially now as we look back over the events from a year ago.  Blessings to all!