Lessons from my children: Billy Boy; A Time to Grieve

Lessons from my children: Billy Boy; a Time to Grieve

Dads are supposed to teach their kids, but in my case the experience has been reversed. Of course I have shown my children how to hold a baseball bat, or how to throw a Frisbee, but the important lessons, I have been the student.

My wife, Sheri, and I are the birth parents of eight children, five boys and three girls. Sheri’s first pregnancy, a boy, ended in miscarriage.  Our next baby, also a boy, was stillborn. Then followed six successful pregnancies.  In our older years we have been the foster parents to over 30 children. One of our foster children we have adopted, three-year-old Tony.

And so what are these life lessons my children have taught me. To explore that, I need to go slowly, and talk about each child

Billy Boy

Billy Boy is the name we gave to our stillborn baby. He was our firstborn, but actually our second pregnancy as a miscarriage had preceded him. We were always going to name our first born, after my wife’s brother, Mark, who died when he was young. However we didn’t want to waste that name, and so in our haste to change the baby’s name it came out Billy Boy. The hospital had already given him the name, Baby Boy Wardle, so we just changed it slightly. Sheri and I wanted to be parents so much it hurt. We had moved from Utah to faraway Nevada to start our family. We lived in rural Duckwater. (Duckwater really was rural. It was 70 miles to the nearest grocery store over good roads. If you wanted to go over dirt roads there was a grocery store only 50 miles away. We generally shopped in Ely, 70 miles, and that is also where medical care was found.)

We were very excited for a baby to come to our family. When Sheri was eight months along in her pregnancy, I picked her up after her regular medical appointment. She was all upset and had been crying. She reported that we needed to go to Salt Lake City because they feared the baby had died. They could not find the baby’s heart beat when they attached a monitor to see how the baby was doing. They did not have ultrasound equipment in Ely, Nevada at that time, so we were referred to the University of Utah Medical Center for an appointment and evaluation the next day.

I remember, before we went home to Duckwater, I took several pictures of Sheri. I wanted to get a roll of film developed and there were pictures left on the end of the film. I guess I was in denial that anything could really be wrong. We then drove to Duckwater in silence. Sheri had already accepted that the baby had died. She had noticed that the baby had stopped moving inside her, and the report from the doctor in Ely only confirmed this. I had no such belief, and was not ready to accept any such outcome.

The next day, after packing, we traveled to Salt Lake and the hospital, Leaving Duckwater by five in the morning. I remember the trip was somber. I made several attempts at levity, which seemed to falter and fall flat, like something in your stomach that doesn’t want to digest. We arrived in Salt Lake late morning, and went directly to the hospital. Initially they tried to find a heart beat by monitor, and when that was not successful we were referred for an ultrasound. After a couple hours wait we were with the ultrasonographer and he was applying KY Jelly to Sheri’s belly to help with the review of the baby’s systems. It was at this time that Sheri’s belief was confirmed, and my denial was proven to be false. They could not find any activity on the part of the baby. They looked at the baby’s heart, and it was not beating.

We were advised to get a hotel room and then return the next morning when they would start Sheri’s labor and deliver the baby. We had dinner, and Sheri started to have contractions, but not very regular. We went from there to get a hotel room, and Sheri couldn’t sleep because of the pain. We called the Dr. and I returned to pick up some sleep medication for her. Turned out the hotel was mostly a waste of money. (I seem to think about money a lot.) Sheri had a bath, but then couldn’t get to sleep. She had gone into labor of her own self while we were having dinner. Initially the pains were not very alarming. By the time she got out of the tub her labor was very active. We returned to the hospital about 10:30 that night, after not getting any rest.

After returning to the hospital, the baby came quickly. I was to coach and help Sheri. Sheri at one time became frustrated with me, and socked me. Sheri did not get an epidural. They didn’t have time to get the anesthesiologist and she just had local pain medication in her IV. When the baby came they did a major episiotomy, and Sheri also tore considerably. The baby was born just after midnight on Sunday morning, December 9, 1984, within two hours of the time we returned to the hospital.

They figured the baby had been dead for about a week. The only thing we heard from the autopsy report was that his heart was enlarged. This meant he had been under stress for some time. We never were given an explanation as to why the baby was under stress.

Even so, when the baby was born, I wanted, beyond hope for some miracle to take place. I waited for the Dr. to pound him on the chest and bring him back to life. He never pounded. The baby was dead.

They moved Sheri to a regular inpatient unit rather than to a maternity ward. I think I would have preferred the maternity ward, but Sheri asked the hospital staff to put her someplace where she wouldn’t be around people with live babies, as that would have been hard to deal with.

I went to the room with Sheri. My first after-birth task was to massage Sheri’s belly, which was suppose to help her uterus contract and return to its normal size. As the morning dawned, I was given another task, to call family and let them know we were in Utah (my family lived in Northern Utah and Sheri’s in Eastern Utah,) and also to inform them of our loss. I didn’t much like this chore. However it was within just a few hours that people started showing up to wish us well. For my side of the family, a loss of any kind, other than grandparents, was something new.

As for Billy Boy, the hospital staff tried to remove his birth covering and clean him up, however in doing so his skin peeled. Consequently they stopped and he was left with what looked like a red rash where they had cleaned him up. We have one picture of him, and you can see his red rash.

I held him. He was very tiny. He weighed just less than five pounds. Sheri did not hold him, and she has expressed regret since.

My older brother’s father-in-law, Bishop Garbett came to the hospital.  He was a former bishop and we consulted with him about the proper way to proceed with a stillborn in terms of church blessings. We decided there was no reason we shouldn’t give him a name and a blessing, so we did. My brothers assisted me. They brought the body to the room and I gave him a name. I don’t remember much of the blessing, but it was very short.

We did not take the body home for burial. The hospital staff said they would conduct an autopsy, and then dispose of the body for us.

That is the story of Billy Boy. From this experience, I learned there is a time to grieve. The grieving process was not just a one-day thing, but took place over several weeks, even months. How do you grieve for a baby you never cuddled and held? It wasn’t hard. The baby was real to us, and we had made plans to make him part of our lives. Sheri’s grieving was intense, because she had felt every kick and movement while the baby was inside her body. I had felt kicks, but only when Sheri shared them with me.

We went to spend a week with Sheri’s family for bereavement. It was a comfortable week for me. Not so much so for Sheri. They had given her what would be an inflatable tube for her to sit on to aid in her healing process. We spent most of our time in the living room while Sheri tried her best to get comfortable.

We returned to Duckwater after a week. I worked for the Duckwater Shoshone Tribe, and while we were gone an elderly tribal member had passed away. I am not sure why, but where this gentleman had been a member of the Church, it fell upon me to talk at his funeral. Preparing that talk, and remembering the eternal nature of life and family, helped me along my grieving process. The funeral was attended by the entire reservation of almost 200 people. While in Utah, I had received delivery of two large turkeys from BYU Community Outreach, which I brought back with me for a tribal dinner for the Holidays. We used these for a tribal feast to honor our newly departed elder. I felt I was handling everything OK.  This experience was a time for me to say goodbye to Billy Boy, and review the eternal nature of things.

Sheri did not grieve for some time. In fact she really didn’t grieve until a couple years later. My niece had a stillborn baby boy, Skyler, for whom they had a funeral. Sheri finally was able to grieve at that funeral, and let out her feelings about Billy Boy. In the mean time we had a new baby girl.

It’s funny about grieving. It is not a one-time process and then you’re done with it. Grief is less intense over time, but it is something that comes back. I wrote in my journal about having a bitter day a month after losing Billy Boy. Bitterness is evil and to be avoided. It can blacken your soul. I avoided bitterness by leaving things to the Lord and accepting that all will work together for our good. (See D&C 122:7) There is peace in that thought, and peace replaces bitterness.

A couple years later I wrote in my journal:"When Billy Boy died I remember asking myself inside for a long time, 'Why? Why? Why?' The question went away, but I’m not sure if I ever really answered it for myself. I do know, when Tali was born and I saw how beautiful she is, the hurt seemed to fade—although for a time it was more piercing as I realized what we had missed. God, I know, has blessed me greatly, but it was after the tribulations and trials that allowed him to pour our more abundant blessings and make Tali so beautiful."

My trials have not been near so hard as others--As Job who lost everything, but was then able to see God. Or as the pioneers who lost so many children. (In uncovering an old burial site archeologist discovered four times as many infants as adults. In my own family history there are stories of children dying on the trek.) But these families overcame and built a city and temple with God’s help.

I know I can expect more trials, likely of a different nature. I have further to go to be in control of myself, and my own destiny. It is through trials I can prove to myself that I have made gains towards becoming more like Heavenly Father and Jesus—more perfect.

Sheri, for her part, fought depression. I realize now I wasn’t there enough for her. I wasn’t open to her talking about her loss and her issues. I just wanted to go on. A coworker suggested that perhaps we needed counseling to help deal with the loss. This seemed foreign to me.  We decided, for us, it wasn’t needed.

23 years later, I still have days when I miss Billy Boy, or where he is acutely in my thoughts. At every funeral I attend he seems to be there. A few years ago we traveled to Arizona, to bury the nephew of my wife who had been struck by a car and killed while bicycling home from high school. That was a funeral with a significant amount of grieving. Seeing Sheri’s brother, wife and family, and their grief was painful. I started to write a poem I couldn’t finish:

One thing I would never wish to be
Is the guest of honor at a funerary
Celebration.

Parents should grow old, and their children should bury them, who are buried by their children and so on. Everything should be done in a proper order, but things don’t work that way. I remember the words of the poem The Weaver:

The Weaver(author unknown)

My life is but a weaving,
between my Lord and me,
I do not choose the colors;
He knows what they should be.

Ofttimes he weaveth sorrow,
and I in foolish pride
Forget He sees the upper,
and I the underside.

Not till the loom is silent,
and the shuttles cease to fly,
Will God unroll the canvas,
and explain the reasons why

The dark threads are as needful
in the skillful weaver's hand
As threads of gold and silver
in the pattern He has planned.

I am grateful for Billy Boy, and his short time in our lives. I still look forward to the day when I will be able to parent him and hold him in my arms. In the meantime, I feel his presence, and his loving concern for Sheri and I, and our family.

Coming Closer to Christ

I am making a commitment to come closer to Jesus by studying the Book of Mormon. I know some people say, if you are Mormon you are not Christian. Joseph Smith said, "...The Book of Mormon was the most correct of any book on earth, and the keystone of our religion, and a man would get nearer to God by abiding by its precepts, than by any other book." (introduction to the Book of Mormon) So to paraphrase, a man can get closer to Jesus by studying the Book of Mormon than any other thing he could do.

I am going to put this precept to the test, and come closer to Jesus. Despite what man may say, I can know Christ better, and be closer to him by studying the Book of Mormon.

In reviewing that statement it says three things. First the Book of Mormon is the most correct of any book. The Book of Mormon comes to us as a translation of ancient gold plates. this translation was done by the gift and power and of God. I think when something is done through the power of God, it is true and correct. Consequently the statement, it is the most correct book on earth is a true statement.

Second, the book is the keystone of our religion. I have read a couple articles which both represent this book as the Keystone in three ways. It is the keystone of our witness of Christ. It "convinces that Jesus is the Christ, the Eternal God. It is the keystone of our doctrine and teaches eternal truths. Finally it is the keystone of our testimony. It spiritually verifies the divine calling of Joseph Smith. (see James E. Faust, Ensign, Jan. 2004, "The Keystone of our Religion; Ezra Taft Benson, Ensign, Oct. 1986, Conference Report) The Book of Mormon is the key to having a testimony of the restoration of the gospel, a key to having a firm testimony and salvation through Jesus Christ, and finally the key to teaching true principles.

Which brings is to the start of this article. A person can come closer to God by abiding the precepts of this book and any other book. The title to this book was modified in 1982 to say: "The book of Mormon, Another Testament of Jesus Christ." We have the Old and New Testaments of the Bible, and now also the Testimony of the Book of Mormon.

Studying the book of Mormon involves praying before reading, studying with real intent and faith in christ, pondering what you read, asking questions, and addressing God to have the firm witness that the book is true. (See Moroni 10: 3-5) The book was saved to come forward in our day, the Lord's own due time. The stories of the book were written for us, our day, and by the grace of God they have come to us for our benefit, that we might know Jesus, and through Him achieve eternal peace.

Thomas Martin

This is a picture of Thomas Martin, aka thomas Morton, the half brother of Isaac John Wardle, my Great Great Grandfather. He was a coal miner in England who followed Isaac to Utah. He moved to Price and worked in the coal. He never did join the Mormon church like the rest of his family.

I am not sure if he was an illegitimate son of Isaac's mother, or if she had a previous husband who had passed away.

Carma Hainsworth

Ronnie Lee Gardner was executed today by firing squad in Utah. He had committed two murders, the second in an escape attempt from a Salt Lake court with a gun that had provided to him by a woman.

When I attended University of Utah, I worked for the Utah Boys Ranch as a counselor. Mostly that meant I worked with the house parents doing whatever they wanted me to do, watch the boys etc. While I was there Carma Hainsworth and her husband (I don't remember his first name) were hired as alternate house parents. At that time there were two houses open, and they would give the houseparents their time off by taking over at each house for a couple of days every week. They were fired after several months, and I am not sure of the circumstances of their being let go. I wasn't there when it happened.

A couple years after working there I was visiting with the house parent I worked with, and she told me of Carma's involvement in the Ronnie Gardner case. She had helped him with his escape which resulted in a lawyer being murdered, and a court bailiff being wounded. This took place at a court house where Gardner was on trial for another murder. Carma was later convicted of being his accomplice in the escape attempt, and everyone understood her to have gotten the 22 pistol to him with which he committed these crimes.

Sometimes who you know can haunt you. It happens that Ronnie Gardner's girlfriend was also Carma's sister. I thought it odd that Carma had been convinced by this guy to be involved in the escape attempt, rather than the girlfriend herself.

Well maybe my thoughts were correct, as Ron Gardner has admitted his girlfriend provided him with the gun. Carma was involved in the escape attempt, having a change of clothes prepared for the murderer to change into. She maintained her innocence with regards to the gun. In the end, witnesses could identify Carma, and not her sister, and as a result she spent eight years at the Utah State Prison.

I did see her once at the prison. I was there as a social worker for a completely unrelated case. I saw her and we said "hi" to each other, but that was the extent of our conversation. We recognized each other and acknowledged each other and that was it.

Discussion on Adoption: Part One

ADOPTION IS PRECIOUS

Sheri and I are both reading books about adoption. They both have a similar theory. The book Sheri is reading is called "Primal Wound" by Nancy Verrier. I am reading a book titled "Twenty Things Adopted Kids Wish Their Adoptive Parents Knew." It starts with the same theory the other book is based upon, that of the primal wound, or loss of the mother. The author, Sherie Eldridge, adopted as a baby, tries to put is into the mind of a baby, "The baby lies quietly in each person's arm, seemingly oblivious to all that is happening around her. However,no one knows that beneath that crisp white dress is a grieving heart ... a heart that wonders where Mommy is. Her smell. The sound of her voice. Her heartbeat. Her body. Where did she go?"

I have a hard time with people putting themselves in the minds of a baby. Who knows what a baby is thinking? Are they thinking at all? They don't have the benefit of language. And any baby, whether adopted or not is going through a shock at this time. After being in mother's womb for nine months, they are in a totally different environment. That is traumatic as they adjust to temperature, eating, bodily functions. Any parent can tell you babies are a lot of work, and cry a lot, and are bad sleepers. Signs of entity being stressed.

I do belief any removal from a parent is traumatizing, even at birth. But is this a primal wound? Sure the rhythm has changed. The heartbeat has changed. There is a loss, even for a newborn. But is that a primal change, or a step in life similar to any step of maturation?

Our Tony would go through multiple losses before becoming a permanent part of our family. His first two weeks were spent in the NICU as he was six weeks premature. He was apart from his birth mother, although she visited. After he had been there a week, my wife also began to visit him, anticipating his coming to our house and learning how to care for him.

How we loved him when he came home! I had never held such a small baby, and my heart was his so quickly. He was interested in eating, and pooped and peed like any baby. We felt so close to him, and felt he also felt close to us.

This relationship was not to continue however. At two months, social services found a cousin who was willing to take him in a foster adopt situation. And so our little Tony experienced another loss, as he left our arms, our heartbeats and mannerisms and rhythms.

The biggest miracle of our lives was when Tony came back to us, shortly after his first birthday. His placement with the cousin did not work for no fault of the cousin or Tony. Just a few days before my daughter had reminded us that Tony had turned one. And now he was coming to us again.

However this represented another loss in his young life. We could tell he had been loved and well cared for, but three losses by just a few days of one-year-old must have been hard on our little boy.

Even with that, social services wanted to move him again. This was after the termination of the mother's rights and he was free for adoption. They found relatives, great great aunt and uncle who were in a position to take him. However they did not know him, and he did not know them. They started visits, and even one time took him on a day trip to this home. Tony cried all the way there, another trauma.

During this time Tony developed an idiosyncracy in which he would seek out his Mom's clothing to carry around with him. It was more pronounced when he was visiting frequently. Tony was worried about losing his Mommy, but this time it was my wife, his foster mom.

Fortunately we prevailed in court, and social services was not able to move him again. this was mostly due to the testimony of Dr. Kleine, pediatrician and expert on children's loss and separation. He told the judge it would cause harm to Tony to move him again. That convinced the judge to let him stay with us. We had already bonded with Tony, and felt he was home.

We have since finalized his adoption, and he is sealed to us in the temple. Tony is bonded with us,and we with him. At this stage in his life we are his family, his mother and father. As he goes through life, I am sure the issue of his adoption will come up, and we will deal with it. We will talk openly, and hopefully be able to accept Tony's feelings about his adoption. However I do not like the term "Primal Wound." Of course there is loss and separation. And people grief and move on. Sometimes the grief reappears during life, and then you deal with it again. Primal makes it sound so deep you can't move on. That I don't agree with.

So much for now. I am only in the second chapter so will keep you posted as I read more.