Hellobee

This is a guest post by Hellobee community member JenniMac.

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My husband works out of town and had to be at a safety class the day I went in for my regular 20 week check-up and anatomy scan. It was the first and last baby appointment I would attend by myself. I asked the ultrasound tech if she minded me videotaping parts of the ultrasound for my husband. Before my appointment, I went to Target and picked out a cute pink “Born in 2012” outfit and a blue “Born in 2012” outfit. My husband and I had discussed the night before how I would text a picture of the appropriate onesie right when I found out, so he could find out as soon as I did.  We were ready!

The ultrasound began and right way I knew it didn’t look right. At that point, I was just hoping that I was being a worrywart. Then, the ultrasound tech started asking me questions about when my last ultrasound was, and I knew that something wasn’t right. I asked her and she told me that she wasn’t seeing what she needed to for 20 weeks. We tried to hear a heartbeat, but there wasn’t anything. She finally said, “I’m going to stop looking here. I’m so sorry and I hate that you are by yourself.”

I had to leave the hospital and go to my doctor’s office. I called my mom on the way and felt awful making the phone call. Everyone was waiting for the, “It’s a…. !” call. Instead, I had to say, “I don’t know how to say this, but…” and then I just told them. My husband was waiting for a text of a picture of a onesie and instead he got, “I need you to call as soon as you can.”

As soon as I got through the doors, the nurses wrapped me in hugs. It struck me that whenever you call after hours or with a zillion questions, they act so bothered by you, but when something so tragic happens, they are some of your biggest supporters.

I think at this moment I was in a fog. I still felt like I would wake up from this bad dream at any moment. But as I sat in my doctor’s office, holding the tears in, I knew it wasn’t a dream.

All of a sudden, our wedding song broke through the silence. It was my husband. I answered the phone and he said, “What’s up?”

I said, “I don’t know any other way to say this, but the ultrasound technician could not find a heartbeat.”

He said, “What? What happened?”

And I had to say, “We lost the baby. They think it happened a couple of weeks ago.”

This was a phone conversation no one should ever have to have with their spouse. Here we were so happy, so ready for our family, and all our dreams were falling faster than a house of cards. My husband had to go back into class, so we said our goodbyes for now. Then, my dad called me. He’s a physician and was trying so hard to be strong for his oldest daughter. It was just a few weeks earlier that my sweet Daddy was checking up on my test results, easing my fears when our quad screen came back abnormal. But, there’s not much you can say when your child has faced the reality of losing a child.

My husband called me back and told me he was on his way home. I’d never been so happy to hear him say that. It would be a few hours before he got home, but I was okay with waiting.

My doctor came in and hugged me. He was just as upset as I was, but we had to discuss what needed to happen. Since I was 20 weeks, I needed to induce labor and actually deliver. I don’t think my mind really comprehended the fact that I was going to be induced and would have to push my stillborn baby out.

One of my best friends left work and met me at my doctor’s office despite my emphatic statements that I was fine and wanted to be myself. I wasn’t fine and I didn’t want to be by myself. She followed me home and waited with me while I passed the hours until my husband made it home. We laughed; we cried; I tried to fold laundry. It was such an everyday thing, but this wasn’t any ordinary day. It was a day that my life forever changed. I had one of those days on November 30, 2011: the day we found out we were going to be blessed with a baby. Now, March 29, 2012 was going to be the day that our precious baby was born and died.

While we were waiting, various friends would text me wanting to know what the baby was. It was heartbreaking to have to relay the news. My sisters sent texts letting me know that they would be there whenever I was ready to talk. One of my sisters called me sobbing. She felt so bad that she teased me the week before that my bump wasn’t big enough. I had to console her that that had nothing to do with what was happening. My mom told me that in times of loss, there are some things you have to do for you, and there are going to be some things you have to do for others. I had to talk to my sister, comfort her, and make her feel better. Oddly enough, it made me feel better.

My sweet husband came home, still in his work clothes. He didn’t stop; he just drove straight home. My friend left and I just fell into my husband’s arms crying. He didn’t have to say anything. What can you say when you learn your child didn’t even get a chance to make a difference in the world? When their whole life is over before it could begin? We sat on the couch and just held each other for about an hour without really talking. Then, we realized that we both were hungry and needed to get some food before we went back to the hospital.

We went to Chick-fil-A. I think the poor little boy behind the counter knew something was wrong with me because my eyes were red and puffy. He just would stare at me, like “What’s going on in your life right now? What’s happening?”  It took everything in me not to just blurt out what was going on in our life right at that moment. We ate and headed home to pack a bag for the hospital — a chore that usually is so joyous and done with such anticipation of the future. For us, it was a chore filled with dread and sadness. As I packed my bag, it struck me as how different this experience was from what I thought it would be.  But, as sad as it was, I’m glad it’s an experience I got to have.

It was surreal going into Labor and Delivery and checking in. All those things that we thought we would be doing in August were happening now. When we arrived at the hospital, I was happy to be greeted by a mom of two of my students. She told me that she hung up on my doctor when he called to schedule my induction. She said that when he said my name, she just slammed the phone down. She didn’t want it to be true. It just so happened that she was my nurse until the night shift took over. It was comforting to see a familiar face. She explained everything that would happen, which was great.

I had no clue as to what I was about to go through.  Every first time mom has a fear of the unknown when it comes to labor, and there are only so many stories you can hear until you experience it yourself. To have this whole experience be my first labor added a whole other dimension to the event. Her explanation did take some of the fear of the unknown away and prepared us for what we were facing in the night ahead.

Our hospital did a good job of getting us back into our room, making sure it was one of the nicer ones and at the end of the hall—away from newborn baby cries — and making the whole experience as nice as something like this could be. The nurses were all so understanding of any emotion I was feeling. If I was mad, they let me be mad; if I was crying, they let me cry. For instance, I asked about visitors and if there were any restrictions on the hours. They told me that for me, there were no restrictions.

I began the induction process and my night shift nurse came in. Again, it was someone that had a connection to my school and our small community. My school, where I teach, is like another family to me. To have people that were part of my school or close to it made me feel better.

My parents arrived around 6:30 p.m. and my mom declared that the good Lord was watching out for us because we were in a room of a family that is one of the founding families at my school. I didn’t even realize that when they walked us in. My dad hugged my husband and me and said his catch phrase when anything emotional is happening: “It will be fine.” I think it was more for him than anyone else.

My induction process began with the nurses placing some medicine — I’m not sure of the name — on my cervix. Holy moly, they stuck that stuff up there. My cervix was still high and closed, so it was difficult for the nurse to get up there. It began to work and I felt period like cramps. That was a flashback because it had been almost 6 months since I had felt cramps.

The night went on and we had some visitors. The priest at my school stopped by and prayed with us for a while. It was nice to have my husband and my parents meet him. I began to feel more pain and asked for some medication. I am sensitive to medicines and I was worried how the Demerol was going to affect me. Because of that, we began with ½ a dose. It immediately began working and I felt some relief from this nightmare I was in.

As the night went on, the cramps intensified. Unfortunately, I had to wait four hours between pain doses. I was about 40 minutes out from another dose and I was uncomfortable enough to ask if there was something else I could do to ease the pain. The other option I had was to get an epidural. I decided that I would suck it up until the next dose could be administered. When the time came, I got the full dose of Demerol and I could finally sleep. I rested off and on for the next hour or so. I woke up at 3:30 a.m. and tried to adjust my sleeping position. As I was moving, I felt some pressure in my area. I pushed the button for the nurse and when she came in I told her that something just gushed out of me. I was too afraid to see what had happened.

When I first arrived at the hospital, they explained to me that I didn’t have to dilate to the full 10 cm because the baby was so small. They also warned me that a shift in my position, a cough or something like that could cause the baby to come out. So, I was pretty freaked out that that was what had happened. In reality, it was my water breaking, which prompted my nurse to prep the room for delivery. They had a stream of nurses who would come in and check my cervix, encourage me to push, etc. One nurse told me that the baby wasn’t going to be coming out head first. They were feeling arms and legs since it was so small. I don’t know why I needed to know this.

I rested for a little bit, lying on my side. As I lay there, I began to feel contractions across my stomach and back. I knew it wasn’t going to be much longer and I began to feel more pressure coming. I buzzed my nurse and when she came in and checked me, she told me that it was going to be time to push. My doctor walked in, suited up, and my legs were placed in the stirrups. My husband was by my side and gripped my hand. I pushed 2 times and at 4:20 a.m. delivered our little girl.

It was strangely quiet in the room. I always thought when I would get the chance to deliver a baby, there would be lots of noise, happy talking, and a baby crying. None of that was happening.

They placed our baby in a small container and then the doctor delivered the placenta. He had to use a speculum to make sure that everything was out. That was super uncomfortable. Finally, the whole thing was done. My doctor and dad looked at the baby and both of them said right off the bat that the cord was not looking like it should have. It wasn’t as developed in places as it should have been, so that right there did make me feel a little better. God was planning to keep her all along. The doctor, nurses, and my parents left us for a little bit and my husband and I got to be alone. I couldn’t move and was still so groggy from the medicine. My husband was up, looking at the baby, crying and I couldn’t comfort him. It was so painful to not be able to ease his pain.

When we were asked if we wanted to name our child, we didn’t know what we were going to do. We hadn’t picked a boy or a girl name at this point. When our daughter was born, we just knew what name we were going to pick. We baptized our little girl and named her for both of our mothers. It was a name that we had not considered at all. However, for her it was perfect.

The morning went on, my parents went home, and my husband and I faced the day. Our hospital has a wonderful bereavement program that sent us home with mementos of our daughter, books to read when we felt like we could, and a support system that knew what we were going through and knew the loss we felt when we walked out of that hospital empty-handed.

My doctor and nurses told me that I responded well to the medicine and induction process. Some women take days to begin labor in the process we used, but my whole experience was less than 11 hours. I am glad that my body could do what is naturally supposed to do.

No couple wants to experience this ever. It’s an experience that really tests your relationship. It brings out the best and worst in you and your spouse. How you react defines your future. I’m happy to say that it has brought my husband and me closer than ever. I thought we knew how each other would react during a crisis; I underestimated how strong my husband could be and how strong I could be. I knew when I married him that he was an amazing man, someone I was proud to call my husband, and the man I wanted to have children with—in the hopes that they would be just like him. However, after this I can’t even begin to describe the depth of my love and admiration for this wonderful man that picked me to be his wife. My mom told me that he didn’t sleep the whole time we were at the hospital. If I made a noise, he was right there beside me making sure I was ok and not in too much pain. My parents knew what a great guy he was, but this just blew them away. My father rarely uses this phrase, but he told my mom that he was “extremely proud of my husband.”

I don’t think this pregnancy was ever meant to go full term and knowing what we know about the cord, it couldn’t have. It’s been a little over a week. Sometimes it feels like it happened just minutes ago, but other times it feels like it’s been months. We have our good moments and our bad moments. For example, I had a bad moment the first morning we woke up at home. I realized that I only slept because of my pain medicine and I couldn’t fall back asleep. My husband wrapped me in his arms and told me in his gruff morning voice to “let it out, it’s ok.”

We’ve gone back to work. Sometimes it’s ok; sometimes it’s hard. Right now, I am taking it day by day. People keep telling me that they admire my strength. I don’t really feel like I’m that strong. It’s hard to know how to respond when people tell you they are sorry. I’m sorry too. I’m sorry that I don’t get to play with my daughter and see her grow up into a beautiful, young woman. I did have someone say something to me that did give me some comfort. I’m sure you can tell that I am a person of faith. My faith has given me strength during this time, when I didn’t think I had any. My friend said to take comfort in the fact that the Lord trusts you enough to give you something of such sorrow. It’s a pain, but in a way it’s a gift that the Lord gives to few people. Take comfort in our Mother Mary because she also lost a child. While it’s hard to think of something so heartbreaking as a gift, we have to trust that the Lord has something special planned for us and our daughter.

Miscarriages are more common than people realize. Whether it’s early on or later, it’s still a loss. It’s still painful. I’m amazed by how many people have experienced this same loss. It’s a “club” you don’t really want to join. As much as I planned what baby gear we were going to use, what bottles, what type of parenting, etc. I didn’t really study about labor, induction, what to do if there is an early loss because no one really thinks that it will happen to them. I know I didn’t. I do know that I am better for the experience now. We’ve gone to Hell and back and have come back stronger for it. I don’t share our story for sympathy or anything like that. I do share it in case it can help someone who may have to suffer the tragedy of losing a child they didn’t get to know. It’s okay to get up and go on with life, but it’s also okay to feel sad when you hear about a friend’s weekly baby update. It’s okay to feel whatever you feel.

This was an experience I didn’t want to have. However, it was one that will forever shape me as a woman, and now as a mother.