The Day A Stranger Became Family

These next few blogs are about different people in my life who shared a journey with me. A journey of Eva. This story is the journey of Jillian Hunsaker as she went from stranger to friend to family.

(I know she won't like this picture but its one of my favorites. This is Corbi's second mom. He would run to her more often for help than me! We truly love this heart of Gold named Jill!)

The day a stranger became family. We had just moved a thousand miles away. No family near. Just TJ, myself and the kids. We were excited for this new journey until one one day changed everything. That cold haunting day in February. We had learned our excitement of adding a new baby-a girl nonetheless- was short lived. I still can replay everything of that day so vividly. Did you know all the way home I played Word Cookie? And once we got home and put the kids to bed we sat and watched Netflix? We couldn't sleep, but we also didn't want to think anymore. I had been to church maybe once or twice and still didn't know a soul. I went out on a limb and tried reaching someone. Anyone. to come and give us a blessing. A blessing that this was all a fluke. That this was a glitch and it would be okay. I mean, miracles happen all the time. I had seen so many stories of babies having heart problems and then the mom got a blessing and magically the heart became okay. It could happen, right?

We mindlessly watched our show until we got a knock on the door and peer through the top of our door and see a hat. Open to find Danny and Will at our door.

I couldn't find any words to tell these men. We had a brief small talk and then we were asked what the need of the blessing was. I couldn't bring it to words. I later learned that these men were still confused at what I was saying and they thought I was having a miscarriage. They both got a bit emotional because they could sense the hurt and pain we were having. They had no clue how far along I was (I was not even showing) and didn't know the extent of what was happening. I didn't ask to have the blessing say that everything would be okay and we would have a healthy baby. I wish I did, but I know its not how it works. I was just hoping dearly that its what would come out of their mouths.

I was told in this blessing that Heavenly Father loved me. Basically that over and over and over again. Nothing. Nothing about my baby being okay and that she would be healed and live. While I was grateful for the blessing I was still devastated. It was proving that life was not fair.

They offered to watch our kids as we had a 7 hour drive to go see the specialist. We didn't know these people and while we were already feeling uncomfortable with our diagnosis, we didn't feel comfortable leaving our children with complete strangers.

Will is the husband to Jillian. This is when our story starts. The day a stranger became my friend.

We came home from our long trip, feeling even more defeated than before. It was one thing after the next that kept coming up wrong. Remember that plate of crap we were dished? Yeah, we were still feeling it.

I got a ding on my phone and looked to see this Jillian person had messaged me. She mentioned Will was her husband, she didn't know what was going on but hoped I was okay. I didn't even know this person and I immediately opened up to her. I told her it was not okay and my daughter was going to die. And there was nothing I could do about it. I am not sure how she was feeling...I am sure I just put her in the most awkward position ever, dumping all that on her. Again, she didn't even know me. I was a stranger, how do you console a person you don't even know?

She offered to buy us dinner. Send a pizza over. I tried hard to tell her we didn't need it. We didn't need help. I could figure it out on my own. She knew better.

That is the most memorable pizza I have ever had. Not like it was the most delicious/divine tasting....it had the most love in it. I wept as I ate because I was so grateful for this kind stranger who wanted to help. And it was pepperoni.

Time went on and I got to know Jillian a little better. She was stubborn as all get out to wanting to be my friend. We had both come from Utah so I felt a little connected. She was persistent. Kept trying to talk to me and invite me to all things. I had a stick up my bum for a long time because I didn't want to accept help. She even offered to help me vacuum out my car because it was a warm day and "she was going to as well". She must have been super annoyed that I was so stubborn. Probably still is.

I never really displayed ultrasounds of Eva. I was scared someone would get kind of freaked out by the look of her. One day Jill came over, our kids had become really good friends. Jill was
my family, my kids loved her so much. I had an ultrasound on the fridge, she went and looked at it. I was immediately nervous, defensive even. I didn't want her to look at it because I was scared of what she would see. What she would say. And I still am shocked by what she did say.

"Look at her nose! She has the most beautiful nose!" I knew she saw Eva without her head, I knew she saw the abnormalities on that ultrasound picture. But do you know what she saw? She saw that Eva had TJ's nose. I felt such relief and happiness. Because it was true. She did have the "TJ button nose"- all of my kids have it.

Our friendship grew and blossomed into this sisterhood. I loved my new family I had. Jill introduced me to Teri. She introduced me to Sheila, to Betsy, to Nancy....all these people who became my friends when I needed them. They knew my journey was going to be tough and didn't make me feel like a charity case.

There is so much I could say about Jill, about the countless times I called/messaged her. The laughs and trips we took. The time she assembled an army of men to put up a trampoline together when we were clueless, took my kids to give me a break....if you don't have a Jill, you really need to find one.

We were nearing the end of May, I had more frequent anxiety attacks. I didn't want to be left alone. I wanted time alone. I didn't want this to be coming. I was spending darn near every day with Teri and Jill, trying to ignore the fact I was facing the end with my sweet Eva. The little tiny dancer inside of me. They helped me during all of this. I knew they had so many other things to do and families to take care of, and I am not sure how they even did it when it seemed I was always with them. I am sure it was hard for them, too. But they NEVER let me know it. They were so willing to be there in every moment I needed.

My plan was when Eva came, I didn't want anybody really seeing her. Not that I wanted to treat it like she came and had gone. I was scared. Scared of what people would see of her. What would they think in their minds. Would they look with disgust? Scared? Freaked out? I wanted to protect her.

I had already told Teri, nobody outside of the list would see her. My list was very small. I didn't even want my new friends to see her. This was......so sacred to me. My time. My vulnerability. Everything. I knew it was a long drive and to have family to take care of. I also didn't want more people to be burdened with seeing the image of a baby who was not properly formed. These were all my thoughts and pains because I knew I would forever be haunted by looking at and seeing my own flesh and blood...not alive. I wanted to spare the image of Eva. I wanted her to be remembered as the fun, sweet soul she was.

Truth time. I was a different person with Eva. I was goofy, funny, lighthearted, I could pound a hamburger without problem. That was Eva. Her soul was in me and I felt I was living for her, with her. My friends got to be apart of knowing what a sweet person Eva was. They could feel it. Why would I want to ruin that feeling they felt? I wanted to protect them, too.

Teri convinced me to allow Jill to be there. She told me Jill WANTED to be there. For me. For Eva. Because she IS family. I know it was Eva telling me to let her come and be there for this.

I'm sure this was awkward and hard for her, as she sat in the room, we didn't really have much to say as I was resting and grieving. You could feel the somber feeling in that room. We were all grieving what was about to come.

I don't know what time everyone left-time was not a concern and was a blur- but I labored on.
Again, I tell you about these specific people because there is more than one story to Eva. There are many, and are shared through other people. Just like every story has many points of views. So did Eva's story.

I still don't like talking about this day and I am not sure I will ever truly disclose everything that happened. Just know this was a HELL of a day. This was MY hell.

Teri needed to go, after being up for so many hours, we were all physically, emotionally spent. Jill came to rescue Teri and TJ with food, she came to comfort, she came to love. I remember sitting there, holding Eva. I didn't let Jill see her at first. I was again trying to protect us all. Me. Eva. TJ. Jill. I didn't know if she even felt comfortable, I know I would be a little panicked holding a dead baby. But here I was. Holding MY dead baby.

I still cry when I look back on my memory. As Jill came over, sanitized her hands (just like if it were any other newborn) and took her over to the rocking chair and rocked her. She looked at her. Snuggled her. She looked at her hands and feet. She burst out that "She has Corbi's feet!" Something I didn't even notice.

I have never specifically looked at or paid close attention to my sons feet. They were just like any other feet. Jill had spent countless times helping him put on shoes and socks, and noticed something special yet again. Eva had Corbi's feet. His little toes. Her little toes. How they curled and had a plump big toe.

I notice his feet now.

Jill was a reinforcement that day. She helped with so many things that day. It was a very hard, ugly day. Like I said, it was MY hell.

I am sure it looked and felt odd (even to her) that we walked out of the labor wing, trying to make jokes/laugh and not look as we passed the nursery. Trying to not think what we had just done. Leaving all physical evidence that Eva existed. Wanting more time....wishing I could go back, just a few days...see if I did something different we would have had a different outcome. If we would have had more time with her...

Jillian was a ball roller, she took care of every meal that was made and brought it over. This way I didn't have to try faking anything, get up, or do anything. She would walk right in, check on the kids, check on me and TJ. She would sit and laugh with me, cry with me, talk about shows....anything the mood struck. She was versatile to our needs. My needs.

Milk is made different and unique to each baby. When my milk came in after Eva, I grieved yet again, another reminder that I could not have saved her. My baby was gone. Jill was there to help.


They say if you and a friend can last for seven years, you will last forever. While I have not known Jill for seven years, I know we will always be friends and connected with this incredible hardship of a journey. Because Jill is more than just a friend. She is family.