Stillborn. Still Loved.
Lincoln's Story
When we began planning our family in 2019, we were a young couple in our first year of marriage. We were not prepared to be disappointed month after month with negative pregnancy results, but we continued trying, determined to grow our family despite the disappointment of not becoming pregnant.
After eighteen long months on December 23, 2020, when we were least expecting it, we received the best Christmas surprise. Kauri was pregnant with our son, Lincoln. We were so excited and couldn’t believe the moment had finally come, our little family was about to grow.
Lincoln’s due date was August 30, 2021, and time seemed to creep by almost as slowly as it had to get pregnant. We filled the time with preparing for our little one, planning his room, his outfits, and all the normal things a happy expecting couple do.
Lincoln continued to grow stronger and so did our love for him. All his ultrasounds passed with flying colors. Feeling him move for the first time is something we will treasure forever.
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We threw him a baby shower with friends and family to celebrate his soon arrival. His due date came and went, and we were assured that everything was fine and normal to go a bit beyond, but advised to not go past 42 weeks. We wanted Lincoln to come naturally at the right time, but we scheduled an induction on September 9th, 2021 in case the labor process hadn’t started yet.
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The contractions never came.
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We headed to the hospital a few days prior to the induction date for a routine non stress test. Covid protocols were still in effect, so Nathan waited in the car expecting Kauri to shortly come back with good news as she did before with every other appointment.
In the appointment Kauri’s nurse placed the straps over her abdomen and fiddled with the machine. She hesitated and said it did not seem to be working properly and left to get the doctor. When the doctor returned he told Kauri, ”There's no heartbeat.”
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Kauri texted Nathan that she needed him, and he knew something wasn’t right, he came in as quickly as possible and when he found Kauri in a back room of the office, they told him the same thing.
We could not believe what we were hearing, we didn’t understand how this could have happened. So many emotions ran through us both, denial, anger, even hope that a miracle could happen and Lincoln could be with us safely.
In a haze of confusion, anguish and pain, trying to comprehend the situation we found ourselves in, we called Kauri’s parents who were staying with us anticipating Lincoln’s birth. Thankfully they arrived shortly and were able to provide us with some comfort, also while trying to comprehend the situation themselves.
Everything had happened so suddenly when we had expected to even possibly take Lincoln home with us that day if the doctor had recommended an induction. Instead, Kauri had to be induced to deliver a stillborn Lincoln.
Labor crept by slower than the eighteen months trying to conceive, and longer than the pregnancy. We wanted to disappear, to wake up from this bad dream, to hold our baby and see him looking at us.
After twelve hours of labor, a stillborn Lincoln was laid on Kauri’s chest skin-to-skin as any other baby would have been. He had hair and the Wohosky hands and ears. He was beautiful, he looked perfect, he just was no longer with us.
All our plans, all our images of him growing older, of us holding him and even seeing him smile, slipped away into a grim reality. Instead of congratulations, we were visited by the social worker from the hospital, and from the Chaplin who prayed with us. All of it felt empty, we didn’t want the comfort, we wanted our son.
One shining ray of light besides having Kauri’s parents there with us, was Kauri’s labor and delivery nurse. We had written our son’s name on the whiteboard, Lincoln Brion. His middle name shared with Nathan, and Nathan’s dad. The nurse had shared with us that her father’s name was Brian, and she had named her firstborn daughter Brianna in honor of him. She would have been Kauri's age, but our nurse shared that she unfortunately had lost her daughter in a similar way that we lost Lincoln.
She provided us as a family so much comfort, and was very delicate and humane through the whole experience. We couldn’t discount her words or actions because she understood the pain of our loss. She was genuine, and we believe she was put in the right place, at just the right time. Our first insight that we were not alone in this journey, and also gave us hope that our journey to parenthood does not end here.
We held our boy, we cherished him, even though we would not get to take him home in the way that we thought. Even though he wasn’t with us, we didn’t want those moments to end, but we had to leave him there, in preparation for burial or cremation. We said our goodbyes to Lincoln’s still body. He looked so peaceful and we knew God was with us.
After a restless night, we began the checkout procedure, we didn’t want to be in that hospital another moment without him. Before we left, our nurse, who had returned for another shift, checked in on us, and before we left she said she wanted to give us something.
After a little while she returned, a blue teddy bear in her arms that she gave to Kauri.
“I didn’t want you to leave with empty arms.” She said. No, the bear wasn’t our boy, wasn’t going to replace him or even come close to having him. However, that kindness, that understanding we had from her, meant more than we knew.
We left the hospital without a birth certificate, without a death certificate, and without our beloved baby boy. It was as if his only existence was in our hearts, and now a memory. We passed couples in the hallway, taking their newborns home, or coming in for check ups. Kauri clutched that bear close, and we were glad to have had a complete stranger’s care, someone to love our son as we did.
There is nothing that can replace a lost child, a sweet baby that should be held in the arms of their loving parents. Even so, having such a small gesture of love shown, has given us comfort and helped us heal.
Through our faith we found peace, even if we couldn’t see it we knew that God had a plan for us and our family, and had put the right people in our path to give just the amount of strength we needed to carry on.
This small act of compassion and love, is what inspired us to start our nonprofit, Loved by Lincoln. Our goal is to provide others with a small bit of comfort, a ray of hope for the future, that helps them to heal as our nurse had helped us.
We know the pain, we know how hard it can be, at that moment, and for the rest of someone’s life that is effected by the loss of a baby or child. We send our love, and hope that no one has to leave with empty arms, or an empty heart.
You never know what small act of compassion, or love can do to help someone survive a horrible storm in their life.
Our hope is to provide a little comfort to other bereaved parents and to offer that small hand, to put some feeling of comfort in their hands, so no parent has to leave the hospital with empty arms.
Through the darkness, an angel baby's light will shine stronger.
Thank you for reading Lincoln's story, and for donating to a cause that offers a ray of hope. In hopes of spreading light and love at a time that can feel so empty and alone.
Through sharing our story we have already received so much love for our son Lincoln, from friends and family, and from others we never even knew. We want to spread the love he had for us, and the love others have shown us because of him.
Even though he was with us only a short while during pregnancy, we felt love from our baby boy. For those experiencing the loss of a baby or child, know that they loved you. Those who have lost all have their own “Lincoln”. We all love our “Lincolns” and are Loved by Lincoln too.
