For as long as I can remember, I have wanted to have children.  I knew it would be the one thing I would be great at and love doing.  After meeting and falling in love with my husband in January of 1997, I knew that all of my dreams would come true.  Chad and I were married in June of 1998 and in the spring of 1999, after only 3 months of trying to conceive, we found out we were expecting our first child.  The minute I saw the pregnancy test turn positive I fell in love with our baby.  I had hopes and dreams for our family. 

I had the ideal pregnancy.  No morning sickness.  I felt wonderful.  I started to show early so I could easily show off the fact that I was pregnant.  Every doctor’s appointment went well and every test and examine showed a healthy baby.  I simply loved being pregnant.  At 38 weeks my water bag broke and I delivered a healthy 8lb. 2 oz. baby boy.  My fairy tale was coming true.  When Spencer was one year old I stopped nursing and we conceived our second child the next month.  The minute I saw the pregnancy test turn positive I fell in love with our baby.Although more tired the second time around, I still loved being pregnant.  My pregnancy started off very normal.  During the beginning of my second trimester I had an episode of bleeding.  After a thorough ultrasound my doctor said everything looked normal.  I was sent home with mild restrictions.  Two months later I again had an episode of bleeding.  The ultrasound showed that everything again was normal.  My placenta was where it should be.  My cervix was normal.  There were no tears in the water bag.  After a month of mild restrictions, I carried on with a normal pregnancy.  At 35 weeks my water bag broke and I delivered a 6 lb. 3 oz. baby boy.  Zackary’s lungs were fully developed and he came home with me 2 days later.  Our family was becoming complete. It was the desire of my heart to have a third baby, although my husband was less sure.  I had been praying that the Lord would make the decision clear for us. During the month of July, 2003 I was feeling a little nauseous here and there and especially after meals.  I had a yearly check up scheduled for July 24th with my ObGyn so I decided I should take a pregnancy test before I went.  At this point I was still nursing Zack who was 11 months old and Spencer was now 2 ½.  The minute I saw the pregnancy test turn positive I fell in love with our baby.  I couldn’t stop smiling from ear to ear.  The Lord had answered my prayers.  My doctor ordered a blood test to confirm the news and the lab said it was definite.  That night I shared the news with Chad.  Although a little surprised, I saw the smile come across his lips.  Another child to love and adore.On Monday, July 28th I had an ultrasound to determine a due date.  The ultrasound showed that I was six weeks along and that our newest addition would be due on March 21st, 2004.  This first picture of our precious baby was taken at that appointment.The mild nauseousness continued on through the first trimester of my pregnancy.  I had no sign of an upset stomach with the boys, so I thought maybe this could be a girl.  Neither Chad or I cared whether it be a boy or a girl.  We just wanted a healthy, full term baby.  That was our goal since Zack had been 5 weeks early.  I had an episode of bleeding towards the end of August.  This was still in my first trimester.  The doctor’s office ordered another ultrasound for Wednesday, August 27th.  The ultrasound did not show any problems.  Cervix, placenta, and water bag all appeared normal.  Initially we felt comfortable with these results since the same thing happened during my pregnancy with Zack and the outcome had been a healthy baby.  This ultrasound confirmed that I was indeed due March 21st.  Within just 4 short weeks since my last ultrasound, our baby was starting to look more and more like a little person.As my pregnancy progressed I started to feel uneasy.  I assumed all along that my water bag would break early since it had with my first two pregnancies and I knew statistically this baby would probably come early since both boys had.  I just started praying and asking for prayers for a healthy, close to full term baby. I felt my precious baby moving inside me at 14 weeks.  I loved the way life felt within my womb.  The small flutters and gentle kicks in the beginning were reminders of what was to come months down the road.  I could definitely tell that this was my third pregnancy.  My belly popped right out and I looked further along than I really was.  This pregnancy would most likely be my last, so I knew I wanted to enjoy it.We had our regular 20 week ultrasound scheduled for Monday, October 27th.  Chad took the morning off work and we headed to my doctor’s office.  We not only wanted to find out that our baby was healthy, but to find out if we would be following in my mother and mother-in-law’s footsteps by having a third boy.  The ultrasound revealed a very healthy, very active baby boy.  Before the ultrasound tech could say anything out loud, Chad let out a loud WHOOP of joy.  In his heart he was excited to have three boys to play with, wrestle with, and to raise.  Three boys . . . three and under . . . we would be busy!We shared our joyous news with family and friends.  No one was surprised to hear the Horky’s would have three boys.  Everyone was very excited including Spencer and Zack.  It was fun to watch Spencer’s reaction to my growing belly.  He was so young when I was pregnant with Zack that he seemed to enjoy and understand this pregnancy a little more.  I was able to borrow a Doppler used to listen to a baby’s heartbeat so Spencer and other family member’s were able to hear this life within me.  Spencer loved it and would ask frequently when he would be able to hear it again.The first half of my pregnancy flew by and before I knew it I was in my 21st week and had taken no pictures of my growing belly.  My sister snapped some pictures of me which I am so grateful to have.  At this point I was pretty tired.  Ninth month tired!  I attributed it to having two toddlers at home.  A quick cat nap at my house was not uncommon while my boys slept.On Monday, November 17th, 2004 I went to bed exhausted as usual.  I was only 2 days into my 22nd week of my pregnancy.  I woke up at 1:30 am with the all to familiar feeling of a broken water bag.  I woke Chad and we talked about what we should do.  I felt calm in the beginning since I remembered from my experience with Zack that a woman could stay on bed rest in the hospital even after her water bag had broken.  We paged the doctor but decided that we had better head right to the hospital.  It wasn’t until I heard Chad call his parents and say those words, “Kristin’s water bag broke, we need to go to the hospital”.  This is when I panicked.  This couldn’t be happening.  Just hearing those words at 22 weeks into my pregnancy made my heart sink.At the hospital a nurse midwife performed the routine tests to determine that is was definitely my water bag that had broken.  It was a long night of us settling in just to hear grim news in the morning.  My regular OB came in to my room in the morning and told us some statistics that we needed to hear.  I was at high risk for going into labor within 24 hours of my water bag breaking and then again in 7 days.  It was now just a waiting game.  I would remain there in the hospital on complete bed rest for as long as possible.  The doctors goal was at least 28 weeks, but they said 32 – 34 weeks would be even better.  If I didn’t go into labor until 38 weeks they would let me be.  Chad and I set our personal goal for 32 weeks,  10 weeks in the hospital.
I was taken to a special care unit on the maternity floor.  This would be my home for as long as possible.  The next day, Wednesday, November 19th, a neonatal doctor came in to tell us what to expect if we were to deliver between now and 32 weeks.  The outlook was not good.  If he was born before 24 weeks there was nothing they could do for him.  His lungs would be too underdeveloped for him to survive on his own.  If I made it to 24 weeks I could receive steroid shots to help develop his lungs, which could help a great deal but we knew it was not a cure-all.  We needed to make it into the 30’s at least.  This is when reality hit.Chad and I decided that we needed to give the situation entirely to the Lord.  It was out of our hands and only He knew what was best.  We felt at total peace after deciding that He was in control and that we accepted what He had in store for us.  We were praying and there were many people, both family and friends, praying for our little guy.I continued to have constant leaking of amniotic fluid.  I had high definition ultra sounds every other day to show where my fluid levels were.  The results of these ultrasounds were always very hard for me, as well as very disappointing.  For normal lung development there needs to be a minimum of 8 cm of amniotic fluid.  I remained between 1 and 2 cm.  Not enough for his lungs to properly develop.  Now we ran the risk of not only going into labor at some point, but of the baby’s lungs never developing past 22 weeks of gestation.  Even if we made it to 32 plus weeks, like we had hoped, his lungs would probably still remain at that of a 22 week old.  He still would not be able to survive on his own.  We continued to pray and continued to rely on the Lord.  Exactly 7 days passed before there were any signs of trouble.Late into the evening of my seventh night at the hospital I began to have spotting.  This most likely meant that I was beginning to dilate.  I went to bed praying that the Lord would still perform a miracle, but by 5:00 am contractions had started and I knew I needed Chad by my side.  I called him and he came to the hospital right away.  I was officially only 2 days into my 23rd week.  This was still too early to have the steroid shots.  We had a consultation with a high risk pregnancy doctor, who told us he could not stop labor due to an infection in my body.  This could potentially be life threatening to me.  This day is too sad and too difficult to even put into words.  I knew I was losing my baby.  I could literally feel my heart breaking.Mid day the contractions stopped and I was convinced that God had performed the miracle I so desperately wanted.  Within an hour they started again and I knew this was it.  It was at this point that I realized that I had given my situation to the Lord with strings attached.  I wanted it to turn out my way.  This was not what I thought was going to happen.  I thought I was going to make it to 32 weeks and that we would all live happily ever after.At 9:47 pm on November 25th, 2004 I delivered a 1 lb. 7 oz. beautiful baby boy that we named Cole Edward.  He was 12 ½ inches of absolute perfection.  Chad and I held him and kissed him and talked to him.  It was very peaceful.  The Lord took him into His arms at 11:02 pm.  He lived for exactly 1 hour and 15 minutes.
As Chad held Cole and rocked him in his arms he said that he thought Cole looked like Spencer.  I will forever be grateful for that comment because I will always have a mental picture of my precious angel in my mind.  Our nurse asked us if we wanted pictures to be taken but I declined.  I already had hospital pictures of my two living children at home and the thought of Cole having hospital pictures taken was very unappealing to me.  I will forever regret that decision.

After Cole had passed, they took him from me and took me to a completely separate floor of the hospital where we spent the night and were discharged early the next morning.  I will never forget the physical pain in my heart and the way my body ached all over at knowing I had lost my son.  The pain was almost too unbearable.  After returning home I did not want to talk about it with anyone, I just wanted to close my eyes and cry.  Because of having 2 children at home to take care of, I was forced to get out of bed in the morning but it took every ounce of energy to go through the day. It wasn’t until a woman, I barely knew, stopped over that I realized I could talk to someone and open up.  I had met Alaina briefly before, but we had barely even spoken.  Yet she called me and came over to share with me the loss of her daughter Hope.  It was an instant bond.  It was as if I found my safe place and it was with someone who had experienced the loss of a baby.  It is with this memory that my hope to help others in the same situation began.  Along with Renee and Alaina, Tiny Purpose was born.  I hope we can connect and that we can be your safe place.