David Lee Wallace III

Lots of words have been said prior to this post and lots of words will be said after, but this one is just about my sweet baby boy, named after his daddy and grandpa, David Lee Wallace III or Little D3 as we sometimes call him.  I just want to honor his life, no matter how short it was. These are special thoughts and moments for me, so I understand if many of you don't make it to the end.

 Early on I knew there was something very special about him. I remember telling David that something felt different. He asked me how I knew that since I had never done this before and I told him I didn't know how I knew, I just knew. And despite my overly anxious personality, I felt calm. David was extremely excited and wanted to start buying anything and everything right away. I told him to wait, just in case we wouldn't need it. He thought I was remembering our miscarriage the previous year and the year of painful testing and fertility medication that followed it. And part of me was remembering that, but part of me still felt different. My sweet husband assured me everything would be okay, and continued to tell me that after we were told our precious baby would only survive if a miracle occurred. I believe in miracles, those spoken of in the bible and those that occur every day in modern times. And we prayed for a miracle all day every day for 5 weeks after we were told the sad news. If you asked me a few weeks ago, I would have told you that we didn't get to see a miracle. But now I know that a miracle occurred, in fact several even, they just weren't the ones that I was hoping to see.

The fact that my sweet little guy lived 5 weeks longer than all of the doctors thought possible is amazing. Over those 5 weeks as I prayed fervently for hours a day and studied scriptures and conference talks looking for answers and comfort, I was assured several times that everything, as my husband said, would be okay.  And many times I felt like it was my special child telling me that. I never felt like he would survive. And there was a lot of sadness experienced. But there were also moments of peace when my spirit remembered its purpose here, and I understood the atonement better than I ever have. And while I felt my little boy wouldn't survive, I knew that because of Christ, he would live. And for the first time in my life I understood perfectly what living through Christ means. Looking back on it, even now, I do not have the same clarity that I had in those quiet moments alone in my room with my kicking baby and a very humble heart.

The day we found out his heart had stopped beating, my heart was so broken I hoped it would stop too. But there was also an odd sense of peace. We cried. And David's heart broke more when he found out the baby was a boy (they could never see on ultrasound due to the fact that my water had broken so early), but thankfully, or perhaps miraculously, my whole family was visiting from California at the time and was able to meet us at the hospital. And luckily, or again perhaps miraculously, less than three hours after being induced, baby D3 was born, and I got to go home the same night to be with my family and sleep in my husbands arms.

When the doctor placed my baby in my arms, I knew he was ours. Not just because he looked exactly like his dad did when he was a baby, but because I felt my spirit connect to his, even though I knew it was no longer there. I think this is the gift he wanted to leave with me. For me to not have doubt that he was meant to be part of our family, and for us to have the extra time to get to know each other before this portion of his life ended. In that short time I was able to hold him and look at his beautiful sweet face, I felt love like I have never experienced and did not know I was even capable of feeling. And that made the pain in my heart even more intense.

Over the next few days I cried most of the time. In a rare moment of being alone I prayed to know why this had happened when I had tried so hard over the past year through our trials to be as perfect as possible and remain strong and faithful. And the answer I got was quite clear, "I love you, but this isn't about you, it is about him". I am still not sure exactly what that means for my little boy, but I understood that Heavenly Father's plans for my baby were greater than my plans for him. And it sounds silly, but for a mom that is a little bit hard to swallow that anyone would know what is best for my child more than me, even if that someone is God. But it was also a comfort and helped relieve some of the guilt I had been feeling about my broken body causing this to happen.

I would like to say that the inspiration and comfort from my Heavenly Father made the pain of burying  my first and only child a little less, but it didn't. I wish I could say that it made it easier or that it made my broken heart heal faster, but none of that occurred. I still cry...a lot. I still wonder why us and not others. I still feel angry sometimes, and I still feel bitter toward those who call our baby a miscarriage or simply tell us we can just try again as if our baby didn't matter, or as if it was so simple to conceive him in the first place. I still cry and suppress jealous feelings when ALL of my friends talk about their babies or upcoming births. But through all of the tears and all of the pain and heartache, peace has always been offered when I asked for it. The sorrow hasn't decreased but the anxiety always melts away and hope is introduced to my heart. Hope, I have learned, is one of the most amazing parts of the atonement of Christ. Without Him, we have none, and really no reason to be here at all.

I have struggled with knowing whether or not we will get to see our little boy again, but I can't imagine being happy throughout eternity without him, and I believe that our Heavenly Father's eternal plan for his children is one of happiness. I haven't spent a ton of time reflecting on the day David and I got sealed, but over the past few weeks I have had a lot of time to think about that amazing day we spent in such a beautiful place promising our love and commitment to each other and God forever. I remember looking in the mirrors and seeing ourselves forever, and I know that our special perfect baby is part of that forever scene.

I still don't understand why this happened, and perhaps I never will.  Unlike those who keep telling us this happened to make us better people, I think this was more about what was best for our little boy than what was best for us. And even though the pain is excruciating, I have only wanted what was best for him since the moment I found out he was coming to our family; and I am very happy that he will forever have the very best. I don't know if or when joy will return to my life, or if this is all there is for us. And even though I wish more than anything that it was longer, I am thankful for the time that I/we got to spend with little David, and I am very thankful that we are his mom and dad forever. Forever is a long time, and I wouldn't have it any other way because sometimes it seems that will just not be enough. I look forward to a day when my little one will live, and I can embrace him, and know him, and tell him how very much I love him and his amazing spirit.

We love you baby D3. We will try hard to make you proud.