The following story about what a troll can do to a grieving family contains graphic images. Read at your own discretion.
By: Deric Lostutter
“Is this really happening?” -Jennifer Lostutter
That is the harrowing sentence that rings in my ears to this very day. With a look of confusion, despair, and hopelessness, my wife looked at me for an answer. I had none.
It was a chilly day in northern Kentucky. I was awoken at six a.m. by my wife, Jennifer Lostutter. “I am spotting and cramping” she said. I sprung out of bed, concerned, but confident everything would be okay. After all, we had just had an ultrasound a week or two prior and the doctors told us everything was fine. Jade’s heartbeat was pounding away healthy as can be.
We drove to Edgewood Kentucky, triaged Jennifer into the emergency room, who then directed us to the labor and delivery department. Pushing her in a wheel chair with anticipation of hearing little Jade’s heartbeat, we finally reached our room.
Jennifer’s pregnancy this time, as her previous pregnancy, was high risk. She was diagnosed with preeclampsia during her last pregnancy. Preeclampsia is a condition that took the life of my best friend, Lauren Barbee, only just a couple years before after giving birth to her son.
This pregnancy, the doctors had discovered Jennifer’s Alpha- Fetoprotein, or A.F.P. levels, were highly elevated in her blood stream. Extensive testing ensured the baby was healthy, and the doctors chalked it up to rapid digestion and a slight mystery. Additionally, she was underweight this pregnancy, and had to be admitted to the hospital once for a fluid treatment due to severe dehydration.
The nurse walked in the room, took Jennifer’s blood pressure, and began using a Doppler device to search for Jade’s heart beat. I listened with such intensity that I could hear what was going on in the next room. Our room was quiet, save for the sound of the placenta.
The doctor brought out an additional device and tested Jennifer again. Jade Lostutter’s heart was silent. “Our ultrasound technician is on call. We are calling her now. It is going to take her about 45 minutes to get here, and I have to be honest. I don’t have a good feeling about the outcome of the results.” Our hearts sank simultaneously.
Some accounts have referred to my child in unsavory names that I dare not mention here.
We had been harassed for months about our daughter, as we have been with everything else.
Multiple trolls on Twitter would make defamatory and false claims that Child Protective Services would take our child because Jennifer “is a druggie“, even though she is drug free.
That hour was the longest hour of my life, and I am sure Jennifer would agree. It was like watching paint dry, staring at a clock. The clock reminded me of my old high school, West Stokes.
Reminiscing about King, North Carolina, circa 2003, I remember sitting in class staring at the same kind of clock. The clock was the same brand and everything. I would watch it tick by slowly, day in and day out, waiting to go home. I never felt academically challenged there, always felt it was a waste of my time.
The technician arrived. Jennifer looked nervous, my heart was racing. I had paced around the room, exclaiming earlier that “they had to be wrong, we just had the ultrasound“, I held my wife and we both cried. The technician began the ultrasound process. There was baby Jade, resting peacefully…no heartbeat.
Our world ended that day. “I’m sorry“, is all the nurses kept saying. Sorry doesn’t bring Jade back. I called my mother, I called my father, I told them in the quietest scream of anguish I could manage, “My daughter is dead, I have to bury my daughter“.
Silent, and bitter, Jennifer and I went back to the car and drove back to our room. We had chosen, since we live in North Carolina, to carry Jade internally then give birth here. The hospitals are better, and we wanted to explore funeral options.
Being the person I am, I vent publicly. I took to social media, to vent to the world. Supporting comments came, even in private messages, assuring us that its a common, yet sad occurrence. Trolls, including the aforementioned defendant, began their new wave of criminal harassment.
27 weeks was the gestation period, Jennifer, underweight, measured at 23.
We were admitted to Forsyth Medical center just 2 days after we returned to North Carolina. Jennifer and I, in a room that resembled a large hotel room with a view, had all different kinds of equipment and a fold out couch bed for myself with matching recliner.
It was painful to know that this was supposed to be a happy moment, the moment we got to see the delivery room, the scale that would weigh our precious daughter.
They administered medication to begin contractions, a few hours would pass, and an epidural later, our beautiful baby daughter was stillborn on January 5th 2016 weighing in around a pound and a half.
The doctor immediately noticed something was wrong with the placenta.
It had calcified, and was rather small.
Pathology would return that everything was normal, save for the calcification, and nothing that we could have done would have made a difference.
The doctor said “Sometimes, the placenta just doesn’t take hold or form right, and I wish I had a different answer than just a stroke of bad luck. Try to take comfort in knowing nothing that happened here today was your fault.”
We had a chaplain come in, say a prayer as we held our daughter for an hour or two.
A volunteer photography group who is always on call in our area for situations like this, came to take professional family pictures for us.
They capture the memory of holding your daughter with breathtaking imagery.
We didn’t want to forget that moment. We sat there, talking to our daughter, crying over her, telling her how beautiful she was, in awe that she had her dad’s feet and her moms fingers and eyes.
She didn’t look like a fully developed baby of course, her skin was loose from the loss of fluid, her pigment hadn’t set all the way in yet, she was underdeveloped.
But to us, she was beautiful, Jade is our daughter.
The nurse came in, we said goodbye. Jade was transported to the funeral home for cremation, and we would spend another night in the hospital as Jenny would recover from labor.
Enter: Troll and Harassment:
After closing the doors on my physical business location in December of 2015 due to a campaign of defamatory reviews submitted by online stalkers from Twitter/Facebook, money was tight.
I had never had to provide burial or crematory services, but knew they could be expensive.
I started a GoFundMe campaign to raise money for the costs of cremation, and the renovation of a nursery into a meditation room to help my grieving wife cope with the loss of our daughter.
The trolls attacked viciously, accusing me of “exploiting a dead baby” in a defamatory and illegal blog alleged to be authored by Alexandria Goddard and friends.
The aforementioned defendant accused my wife of murdering our child via drug use, stating that Jennifer had ingested drugs. An actionable lie that was submitted to evidence in the North Carolina restraining order case.
Alexandria Goddard’s friend, Michelle McKee of Gig Harbor Washington, even took to accusing my wife of faking the entire pregnancy, photoshopping or editing belly pictures to dramatize the size, demanding production of certification of death.
I don’t know what makes these insane criminals think that we have to answer to them.
One day, I had enough, and said to Michelle Mckee, a subject of a restraining order that she continuously violates, “Here’s your proof bitch, see you in court“.
I posted this picture, the same one I had provided to District Court as evidence against Michelle Mckee:
The harassment continues to this day. Trolls accusing us of being the cause of Jade’s death, modifying the above photograph in obscene ways, and even taking out social media accounts in our daughter’s name.
People from the Moorer Case Discussion Facebook group that I was hired to investigate, alleged to be ran by a woman who calls herself “Farmer” and constantly attacks children, messaged me saying “I see my prayers have been answered and your baby died, I pray to a different god.”
Another person from the MCD Facebook, a middle aged woman, let me see that true evil really does exist in peoples souls
Other people choose to modify the photograph that I posted, or use photographs of their own to harass us about the death of our daughter:
Then some people choose to use only words to mock Jade’s passing;
No matter what their venue for the harassment is, it still remains criminal. I manage to keep my wife shielded from a lot of it, but then some of it gets past me and to her.
This is why I am fighting in court, this is why I will win.
I value my family, my daughter, my wife, and we deserve peace.
People have dedicated hundreds of hours, and THOUSANDS of posts directed at my family and I, and yet, call me irrelevant.
A troll is probably reading this blog right now, while I am off enjoying the weekend for Jennifer and I’s one year wedding anniversary.
I will get justice, and then, we will forgive you for your actions, because we are better people than you will ever hope to be.
Deric Lostutter is a social activist and investigative journalist living in North Carolina with his wife. He is currently engaged in multiple lawsuits against a growing list of people who have stalked and harassed him and his family for years, costing him employment, homes, and reputation.
If you would like to donate to help Deric’s cause, you may do so at https://www.paypal.com/cgi-bin/webscr?cmd=_s-xclick&hosted_button_id=JWWQQSEJPN8H8
A portion of the proceeds raised and won will go to anti-bullying charities nationwide.
If you would like to book Deric to speak about his experiences, you may do so via the contact form at http://www.kyanonymous.com