March Mom Of The Month

Hi! I hope this blogs finds you all doing well. I haven’t written in a few months because, if I’m being totally honest, life has been kicking me in the butt lately. Nothing crazy has happened and I’m doing okay, we have just been soooo busy! It’s just the season we are in. So, I’m really excited to be back and I’m even more excited to share this amazing mama with you guys today. Our March “Mom Of The Month” is very special to us. She was referred to us by a local healthcare provider, back in the Spring of 2021, when she received the devastaing news that her sweet baby had Trisomy 18. We were then able to take her by the hand and walk her through her devastatingly difficult diagnosis and pregnancy. Through it all, this beautiful mother carried herself with grace and beauty and she did everything in her power to honor, love, and cherish her precious baby. We were able to witness the birth of not only her beautiful baby, but also of Burgundy as she became a new mother. And what an absolute honor it has been. We are so thankful she trusted us and allowed us to guide her through this time in her life, and we feel privileged to remain a part of her story. So with that, I would like to introduce you all to Vivian’s mom, Miss Burgundy Popwell. Here is her story.

Burgundy Popwell

On November 24, 2020, I stood in my bathroom with Vivian’s dad, Cameron, waiting on the results of two pregnancy tests. I remember being so scared and anxious because we had experienced a first trimester loss before. As scared as we both were, we both knew that this baby was going to be the biggest blessing of our lives. We told our families and the entire room cried tears of joy. We “officially announced” our pregnancy using a onesie with Cameron’s football number on it.

In February, we had our gender reveal. We went to First Glimpse Ultrasound and, on the TV screen, we saw the tiniest baby sucking her thumb and jumping all around. When we cut into our gender reveal cake, I held back tears as we pulled the knife out and there were tiny bits of pink on it. Our precious baby girl was healthy and perfect and we were over the moon for her. Cameron wanted to name her Vivian, so I chose my grandmother’s middle name, Louise. We named our baby girl Vivian Louise Webb.

“I remember being so scared and anxious because we had experienced a first trimester loss before. As scared as we both were, we both knew that this baby was going to be the biggest blessing of our lives.”

The next phase of my pregnancy was wonderful. Vivian was measuring right on track and had the sweetest little heart beat. Then, just two weeks after our anatomy scan, I went to the doctor to find out that she had a soft marker. Soft markers are often an indication of some type of chromosomal abnormality. I was reassured that my baby was perfect, she didn’t have Trisomy 18 or 13 because there hadn’t been any other red flags. The only other possibility would be Trisomy 21, which is Down Syndrome. I remember riding in the car with my aunt not long after that, and telling her that I would be relieved if Vivian only had Down Syndrome. My momma heart just knew something was wrong.

Cameron came home to go to the Maternal Fetal Medicine appointment with me to check on Vivian. As I was lying there, my biggest fears came true. The MFM doctor said, ”I’m going to be honest, I’m very concerned for your baby’s life.” I never thought this would be happening to us. I have seen this before, but not me, not my baby, not my perfect baby. The doctor explained to us why he believed Vivian had Trisomy 18, and it felt like the list of things “wrong with her” was never going to end. To us, nothing was wrong with her. She was everything God intended for her to be. I was 28 weeks pregnant at the time, and this was a diagnosis that should’ve been made around 8-14 weeks. But, I am so thankful I didn’t know until later on in my pregnancy because I got to love her as deeply as we both needed, without any fear.

They recommended making funeral arrangements prior to her birth, and just loving her as profoundly as possible while we had the chance. We didn’t share our diagnosis with many people. Not because of shame, but because she was so precious to us and I did not want her to be labeled. I wanted her to still be treated as a baby even though her life was going to be cut short. My biggest fear was that she was going to be treated as a number and not a human being. 

Somehow, I then had to make the difficult decision to either do comfort care or a full intervention to attempt save my babies life, which had no guarantees. Cameron and I decided that her quality of life would be far more wonderful with Jesus than here with us, so we chose comfort care for our daughter. We made the decision to schedule an induction at 36 weeks gestation, because we learned that babies with Trisomy 18 are more likely to live longer the earlier you have them, and we wanted as much time with her as we could get. When we got to my appointment to schedule the induction, we discovered I had developed Preeclampsia, a dangerous complication of pregnancy, so we had to go to the hospital immediately.

Just four days later, on June 26th, 2021, I gave birth to the most wonderful baby girl. She was 2 pounds 14.3 oz and 15 1/2 inches long. She was so perfect, from her daddy’s widow’s peak to her long second toe. I had never seen a baby more beautiful and perfect than her. But, as I laid there, holding my child on a ziplock bag full of ice, I felt so helpless. My baby was stillborn and I couldn’t do anything to save her. I was suppose to protect her, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t help but wonder if she was scared and cried out for me before she died. I lost my baby, Cameron lost his daughter, my mom lost her granddaughter, my brother lost his niece, but the 7 hours we got to love on her were the best hours of my entire life. Our families met her, we took pictures, and we made hand and footprints.

“I lost my baby, Cameron lost his daughter, my mom lost her granddaughter, my brother lost his niece, but the 7 hours we got to love on her were the best hours of my entire life. Our families met her, we took pictures, and we made hand and footprints.”

The emptiness I felt after Vivian’s death was unbearable. What now? How do I live without her? As a teacher, how do I tell my 4-year-olds that my baby died? Before I had her, I said that if this was her testimony, I wanted it to have peace and grace, so we did everything we could to give her that. When the funeral home came, we wrapped her in a tiny white blanket before they took her away. We buried her next to my grandpa in her little pink casket. She wore a white smock dress with pearls on it and a bonnet.

During that time, it was almost as if the pain was so deep, I couldn’t feel anything at all. I would have rather hurt than been numb. I think it was so difficult because I was in shock. I love her so much. I never imagined this would be my life. She was supposed to wear tiny rubber boots and play in the mud. She was going to go to football games and Disney World. She was going to go duck hunting with her Uncle Christopher and to visit him at the Fire Station. It just wasn’t suppose to be this way. She should be here. More than anything, I want Vivian’s life to be honored. I want to make her proud. I believe in her so much. I believe it’s true that it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all. Vivian is still such an important part of our lives, and we want nothing more than for Vivian’s life to be victorious. Our time with her was so short, but also so very impactful.

Now, over 9 months after our loss, I’m learning that grief is hard. I do things I never thought I would do;, things that other people question. But, noone can judge the way a mother grieves. We all do it so differently, and you will never regret doing things to honor your child. One of the things I’m most proud of is that I pumped and donated my breast milk after Vivian’s birth because I felt like a piece of her could live on in the children that received her milk. She really has changed so many lives.

We do lots of things to honor Vivian and we always make a point to include her in our daily lives like taking family photos with her heartbeat bear and taking it places. It’s our little way to carry her wherever we go. In the 36 weeks I carried her, I know she felt nothing but love and she was safe. She was safe with me and now she is safe in heaven. She doesn’t know any hurt or disappointment. I find peace in knowing these things. Vivian is everything to us and she will never be replaced. I know one day, we will have a dinner table full of children, but there will always be one empty seat saved for our Vivian. 

“Mother,

During those early, dearest days

I did not dream that you had

A large life which included me,

For I had a life

Which was only you.”

-Maya Angelo

-Written by Burgundy Popwell, in loving memory of Vivian Louise Webb.