I am a Mom.

I am Jenna. I am a Mom. I have a daughter. Her name is Peyton. Peyton is my daughter. I am Peyton's Mom.

Peyton has a Dad. His name is Matthew. Peyton is Matthew's daughter. Matthew is Peyton's Dad.

Matthew and I are Peyton's parents. For the rest of our lives Matthew and I will be Peyton's parents.

It feels so good to read those words aloud.

5 weeks and 2 days ago on Saturday November 17th I gave birth to our beautiful and angelic daughter, Peyton Grace, at 8:53p.m. She was 6lbs 15ozs and 20 inches long. Her lips were ruby red, and her head was full of soft dark brown hair. Peyton was perfect in every single way, but her heart was not beating. She never took her first breath or cried. She never looked into my eyes or grasped her tiny  fingers around my hand. Peyton was "stillborn", but she was STILL born. She lived in my womb for 39 weeks before she entered this world... before she was born. Peyton is a person. Peyton is my daughter. Peyton is Matthews' daughter. Peyton is our daughter. She lived, and she died.

On Friday November 16th, Matt and I made our way to Hillcrest Hospital, my Mom following behind us, because of decreased fetal movement and severe lower back pain. I knew something was wrong... I knew I wasn't being "over-cautious". But I hoped, and I prayed that I was wrong. The drive to the hospital Matt and I were completely silent. 

We entered the triage room at roughly 8:30p.m. I was immediately hooked up to fetal monitoring, to monitor Peytons' heartbeat. The machine could not find a heartbeat. The Nurse was silent. She tried to re-adjust the monitoring straps. The machine could still not find a heartbeat. The Nurse left the room. I started to cry. Matt  held my hand. The Nurse returned with a 2nd Nurse. The 2nd Nurse re-adjusted the monitoring straps. Still no heartbeat. The 1st Nurse began crying as the 2nd Nurse informed Matt, my Mom, and myself that there was no heartbeat. She then informed me that my OB would soon be here, but meanwhile I would need a full ultrasound to confirm the loss of my daughters heartbeat. Matt and I cried together. We wished, and hoped, and prayed that it was just a dream. Matt called his parents. My Mom called my Dad. They were on their way. 

I could only imagine how painful it was for my parents and Matt's parents to sit in the triage room with us, watching us cry, unable to do anything for us. I could only imagine how much their hearts hurt for not only us, but for the loss of their 1st grandchild... their precious Peyton. However painful it was for them, they sat with Matt and I, they held their tears back, and they were STRONG for us, for Peyton. 

When my OB arrived at the hospital, he informed me that I would need to be induced immediately. I could not bare the idea of laboring, and delivering my deceased daughter. The pain I imagined seemed too painful emotionally. I was given the choice between cesarean and vaginal birth. I cried to my Mom, and to Matt that I needed the cesarean, that I couldn't do it any other way. They told me I could do the vaginal birth, that it would be healthier for future pregnancies. I trusted them. I chose to be induced. I am so thankful, and grateful I made that decision.

At 1:05a.m. on Saturday November 17th I began the induction process, in a "laboring" room. Matt laid in the hospital bed with me, holding my hand and wiping my tears. Our parents sat on the hard couch, and chairs in our room. I tried so hard to go to sleep, but I couldn't. Matt and our parents drifted off to sleep eventually. I laid there as the tiny bit of hope that I would wake up from this nightmare slowly disappeared into thin air. 

I began pain medicine for my severe back pain. As the pain in my back eased up, I felt the pain in my heart even more. I wanted so badly to scream, to yell, to hit something or someone. But I had nobody to be mad at. So instead I cried. I cried and I cried, until my tears ran dry.

I do not remember much of Saturday November 17th, except the silhouettes of the family members who visited us in our hospital room, and held our hands. I am thankful for our two brothers, Michael and Steve, and our sister-in-law, Lori, whom slept in the hospital waiting room. I am thankful for our parents whom never left the hospital. I am thankful for my 13 year old sister, whom rubbed my feet. I am thankful for our Grandma who held herself together. I am thankful for our Aunts and Uncles, and cousins who were there for us that Saturday. I am so thankful our family was there with us, that we were not alone.

At 8:45p.m. I was ready to deliver. Matt and his Mom, and my Mom were in the delivery room with me. Peyton was delivered with 3 pushes. Peyton was immediately taken out of the room. My OB told us that there was no visual cause of Peyton's death, and that we would have to wait to see if an autopsy could provide us some answers.

The Nurses cleaned Peyton up, and brought her into our room so we could hold, look, and spend time with her. I am so grateful we had that opportunity. 

After everyone left that night, Matt helped me take a shower. We then laid in our hospital bed, just holding and looking at our angel baby... our perfect angel baby. A few minutes after midnight, Pastor John Hite knocked on our hospital room door. At our saddest hour, he sat next to us, and comforted us. Before he left that evening, he blessed our daughter and thanked us for allowing him to meet Peyton. In the days and weeks following that night, I have thought of Pastor John often and the comfort he brought us that night. I will forever hold the time he spent with us and Peyton close to my heart. 

The following morning, Marti Wagner, a photographer from the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep Organization, came to the hospital to volunteer her talent. Though we only met briefly, and had never met aside from this experience, Marti touched our heart and left us with a way to look back on our daughters' life with fondness. She provided us with a gift that constantly reminds me of the reality that Matt and I are parents, that we do have a daughter. Marti's beautiful photographs help me to cherish our precious Peyton, whom we only got to share 15 short hours with. I feel so blessed and am forever grateful to be able to embrace these beautiful photographs of our sweet Peyton.

We were released from the hospital on Sunday November 18th at 1:00p.m.

I was wheeled down the halls of Labor & Delivery in a wheelchair... I had a baby, but she was not going home with me. I had a baby, but my arms were empty.

The hardest thing I ever had to do was leave the hospital that day.

I am Jenna. I am a Mom. I have a daughter. Her name is Peyton. Peyton is my daughter. I am Peyton's Mom.

Peyton has a Dad. His name is Matthew. Peyton is Matthew's daughter. Matthew is Peyton's Dad.

Matthew and I are Peyton's parents. For the rest of our lives Matthew and I will be Peyton's parents. How lucky we are!