Talitha Hope
5:23 am - 6:15 am
September 30, 1999
On March 1, 1999, we learned that we were expecting a baby sometime around November 2. We were surprised, but once we got used to the idea of a third child, we were excited. Things went along normally until I had my first sonogram on June 21.
The doctor started at the baby's feet and worked his way up. He told us that we were having a girl and I remember him pointing out the heart and saying that it looked great. We saw her fingers, and then the doctor started looking at her head. He got very quiet for a long time, and it was at this point that I began to get nervous. He walked over to the table where my chart was and flipped through it, obviously looking for something. He then went back and forth between the chart and the ultrasound machine, looking intently at both of them, before he said, "I can't find any record of an AFP test -- did you have one?" I told him that we had opted not to. He looked for a while longer and finally broke the news to us: our daughter had anencephaly.
Anencephaly is a fatal birth defect which occurs early in pregnancy. The neural tube fails to close and, as a result, most of the baby's brain is missing. The doctor told us that she would be normal "from the eyebrows down", but that her head would stop at the eyebrows. He told us that she would either be stillborn or die shortly after birth, but that survival was impossible.
He sent us for a second opinion and told us that when we were finished we should come back to his office to discuss our options. The second doctor confirmed that our little girl was indeed anencephalic. Back in the obstetrician's office, he told us that most people choose to terminate the pregnancy by having labor induced, but that some people do carry to term, and that he would support us no matter which way we decided to go. He advised us not to make any decisions for about a week so that we wouldn't act hastily and regret anything later. I knew immediately that I wanted to carry our daughter for as long as possible. We came home and broke the news to our children and called our parents to let them know. We explained anencephaly in detail to Torey, our six year old, but just told Jonah (he was 2 1/2 at the time) that our baby was very, very sick and that she had a "broken head".
As the days passed, I knew I wanted to choose a very special name for our very special girl, and I found the perfect one in the New Testament. My baby name book says that Talitha is Arabic/Aramaic for 'little girl', and I took her name from the following passage of Scripture:
"When they came to the home of the synagogue ruler, Jesus saw a commotion, with people crying and wailing loudly. He went in and said to them, "Why all this commotion and wailing? The child is not dead but asleep." But they laughed at him. After he put them all out, he took the child's father and mother and the disciples who were with him, and went in where the child was. He took her by the hand and said to her, "Talitha koum!" (which means, "Little girl, I say to you, get up!"). Immediately the girl stood up and walked around (she was twelve years old). At this they were completely astonished." (Mark 5:38-42 NIV)
I chose the name Talitha because I liked the idea of my deaf, blind, and so-much-more little girl arriving in heaven, hearing the voice of her Savior saying to her, "Talitha koum!", and doing it!!!
As is often the case in anencephalic pregnancies, I developed polyhydramnios. There are different theories as to why it develops, but for some reason the amniotic fluid accumulates at a pace far more rapid than normal. Starting at about 25 weeks, I generally measured 6-8 weeks ahead of what I should. At 28 weeks I started bleeding due to placenta previa and spent the remainder of the pregnancy on and off bedrest.
On September 29 I began feeling some contractions. I told Walt that it felt like true labor, but I just assumed that it wasn't. Torey and Jonah were born at 41 weeks and 42 weeks gestation and anencephalics are very frequently late, so it honestly never occured to me that I was really in labor. That night I woke up at about 1:00 am and immediately passed a couple of blood clots that were larger than my fist. We called a friend to come stay with our kids, and Walt took me to the emergency room here in town. They kept me just long enough to prepare me for the trip to my OB's hospital (45 miles away -- we live in a small town and they don't deliver babies here). I was given an IV and put on the ambulance. Walt followed in our van. By the time we got to the hospital my blood pressure was down to 52/15, I was dilated to 3 cm, and I had lost so much blood that a c-section was necessary.
Talitha was born alive at 5:23 am and lived until 6:15 am. She was 16 1/2 inches long and weighed 3 lb 15 oz. Her head ended at the eyebrows and her eyes bulged a little due to the fact that the tops of the eye sockets had not developed, but other than that she looked normal. She never cried and never moved, although Walt says that he did see her blink once. Her eyes were open and she had a little bit of light reddish-brown hair. She looked a lot like Torey, and I am grateful for that. I like knowing that I can look at Torey's pictures from any given age and know that Talitha would probably have resembled her.
We kept Talitha with us until around noon. My parents and my brother and his wife were unable to make it before she died, but did arrive in time to see and hold her. Walt and my dad drove back to our town to pick Torey up so she could see her sister. We left Jonah with a friend -- he had just turned 3 three weeks earlier, and we weren't sure how confusing it would have been for him to have only seen her after she died. Had he been able to see her alive, we would not have hesitated.
It was just amazing to watch Torey with the baby. As soon as she got to my hospital room, she asked, "Where's my sister?" and then ran over to my mother, who was holding Talitha at the time. My mom gave Talitha to Torey and Torey held her for quite a long time, beaming from ear to ear the whole time. She never noticed the defect -- all she saw was her SISTER. Torey stayed with us until it was time to send Talitha to the funeral home. She got very upset when she realized that Talitha was leaving for good, so she told her goodbye and my parents took her out for lunch, and Talitha was taken away after they left.
Because I had a c-section, I had to stay in the hospital for a few days. Walt had to handle all the final arrangements by himself. We had done some preparation, but because Talitha was born just over a month early, we weren't completely ready. Walt got the plot at the cemetery and purchased the casket. He had told me before she was born that he really wanted to dig her grave, as it was the only tangible thing he could ever do for her. I asked him to wait until I got out of the hospital so I could be there. I went home on Sunday and we stopped by the funeral home on the way home so I could see Talitha's casket. Because we kept her with us for several hours after her death, we weren't able to have the casket open at all. Seeing such a tiny casket and knowing that it was MY daughter in there literally took my breath away for a minute. I think that was the saddest moment of my life.
Walt and my father dug her grave on Monday, and we buried her on Tuesday, October 5, 1999. We had a private burial at 1:00 and a memorial service at 2:00. I wanted the burial to be private and figured that the best way to do that was to have that part first, even if it was untraditional. Her grave was the first one dug in the new section of the cemetery. We had our backs to the old part of the cemetery and in front of us we were surrounded by cactus and mesquite trees and brown dry grass. . . and lots of wind. It was very desolate-looking and extremely depressing. It looked like we were burying her out in the middle of the prairie. When it was over, I wanted to ask Walt if he was ready to get back in the wagon so we could get back on the trail to Oregon. Out of respect for the fact that he had just buried his daughter as well, I didn't. We have planted grass and flowers at her plot now and it is looking better. She also has 'neighbors', so it isn't as desolate looking anymore.
It has been a year since Talitha's birth and death, and sometimes I still find it hard to believe that we have actually had to live through something like this. But we have. Some days aren't too bad; other days are horrible. We have a peace that Talitha is much healthier and happier in heaven than she could have ever been with us, and we trust in the Lord Jesus Christ and know that eventually we will see her again. Not a day goes by that we don't think about her. I doubt an hour goes by that we don't think about her! We will always love her, and she will always be our beautiful little girl. We miss you, sweetie.
This page was last updated on: November 27, 2000