Betsy’s Story
July 14, 2010, I waddled into the labor and delivery wing full of excitement and hope. This time it was real labor and I would soon be able to meet this long-awaited baby girl! It was my first time pregnant and it was a lot harder than anyone could predict. With active rheumatoid arthritis, my doctors and I had a master plan based on all the known research and statistics. I had an expert team of High Risk OBs and Rheumatologists monitoring every step.
Most women with RA go into remission during pregnancy as the body turns its attention away from attacking your joints to making a baby. A week or two after stopping meds my hopes of going into remission were dashed as my joints began to scream. We opted for what we thought was a safer option and dosed me on steroids to get through—avoiding going back on the new RA meds with unknown effects on a baby.
So began a grueling five months of walking in pain, balancing medicine doses and doctors opinions, trying new medicines in the third trimester, and experiencing some rare and painful RA complications. Because of the medicines I had been on, they wanted to do weekly ultrasounds starting at 13 weeks. I treasure the memories of the excitement and routine of getting to see her grow on that grayscale ultrasound screen week by week—and she was doing great!
We had so many plans: A beautifully designed nursery, adorable baby showers with handmade and store bought gifts, a new back-to-work plan with home hours, fancy baby carriers, and breast pumps. I was ready, I thought. So ready.
Labor was rough, but I was surrounded by support. Things would progress then slow, then progress again. At one point people flooded my room as alarm beeps sounded. Baby’s heart rate had dropped but then came back up. I was tired, it had been 36 hours since we had checked in.
Finally, the doctor made the call to do a c-section since things were progressing slowly and baby was starting to show signs of distress. As we entered the OR I remember feeling a sense of peace. I was determined not to give myself over to worry as I knew soon my whole world would change and she would be out! Even as she was pulled out and it took her a bit to cry I could feel God’s peace staying my heart. Lydia Laurel Andersen was out and I couldn’t get enough of the brief moment I got to see her. A special team of doctors was quickly called, she was taken to the NICU for monitoring.
Tests are so slow when you desperately need answers. Lydia was kept on a cooling blanket to slow her immune system down, which meant we could not hold her. She was crying and wiggling and charming the nurses and doctors.
And how beautiful she was! At 10.5 pounds, she was huge compared to all the babies in the NICU. When my husband would talk to her with his deep voice, she would quiet and listen and coo. It was amazing to see their bond and to introduce her to family members one by one.
Overnight, however, things started to escalate. She needed constant oxygen and was fighting hard. The doctors began having serious conversations with us as it seemed she was fighting an infection of some kind they couldn’t isolate. By mid-morning, we made the call to try and transfer her downtown where they had an ECMU machine that could oxygenate her blood outside her lungs which were struggling to function. We knew it was a long shot, but we had to try. The doctor teams very gently warned us that she may not survive the trip.
She did! Our little fighter made it the 45 minutes there in the special ambulance. I insisted on going too, though my doctor was extremely reluctant to let me go 24 hours after surgery. I told him I was either walking out on my own to be with her or he could arrange an ambulance. My ambulance left about 45 minutes after hers did.
Then, they turned the sirens on—and I knew. I knew they only ever turn the sirens on for a life threatening emergency. My heart broke in that long, bumpy road to downtown Chicago. My husband, who had gone in Lydia’s ambulance, was able to finally hold her and comfort her final moments with his deep, familiar voice, to tell her how much she was loved and bless her precious body. I arrived to join them only minutes later.
There are so many precious memories in these darkest of moments that I could share. Details and memories that resound with divine intention and care even as we were trying to wrestle with the worst moment of our lives. My parents made it to this complicated new hospital just at the time I needed them. My twin sister, by my side this whole time, just happens to be this amazing child life specialist who specializes in helping families deal with the death of a child. A friend and pastor was right where God knew I needed him to tell me Lydia was gone before someone I didn’t know had the chance. Friends and family stepping in to be with us and do for us as I spent the next week in the hospital fighting my own infections. A beautiful funeral attended by so many loved ones where would could express our hope.
Hope takes on a whole new meaning when you’re faced with a despair of this magnitude. Meeting her was as exhilarating and life-changing as I had hoped but her unexpected death (later ruled e coli sepsis) left a mortal ache in my soul. Still, just as I had planned before delivery, I still choose to spend my life loving Lydia in the best ways I know how.
One of my favorite lines from one of the songs chosen for her funeral says: If You call us to the fire, You will not withdraw Your hand, We’ll gaze into the flames and look for You (If you Say Go, Diane Thiel)
I don’t know why God has called us to step into this fire, but I am determined to honor and celebrate the life of my precious firstborn by bravely reaching out for Jesus as He meets me in the flames. Twelve years later, I can still feel the comfort of the Holy Spirit as strong as I did in that OR delivering Lydia. And I can still feel the pain of her absence. But I feel even stronger the pull of a sure hope in eternity with Jesus, her keeper.
- Betsy
Hope Mom to Lydia
Betsy Andersen is a committed follower of Jesus. She and her husband Frank have three children: Lydia Laurel, with Jesus since July 17, 2010, Ezra, and Abigail. She enjoys studying the Bible, graphic design, cooking, photography, leading worship, and helping her kids explore their world.
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