Some people only dream of angels...we held one in our arms

December 19, 2010 at 11:00 in the morning I arrived at the hospital. They took me back into triage hooked me up to a monitor and my new life began. Those poor nurses tried so hard to not look worried as I was begging them to find it. Even my doctor couldn't look at me while doing the ultrasound to confirm. He would move past the heart and I could see it wasn't beating, but it was almost like he was trying to figure out the way to tell me without breaking down himself. They even pulled him out of a delivery to do the ultrasound, i bet that mom and dad weren't too happy. I will admit I am happy John wasn't there for that. He didn't need to see that. Those few minutes, probably seconds but felt like minutes, when they were trying to find the heartbeat were torturous and mind numbing and it gave me time to absorb the news, but then I had to call him. I had to tell him to come up to the hospital and get my mom on the road to watch the kids. It was also at that point in time I realized I was going to have to deliver this baby and it wasn't going to cry, or open its eyes, or hold my finger...the first few things I have cherished with my other children. To see how proud my husband is and to have my other kids come to the hospital to celebrate their new brother or sister. The things you take for granted, that seem so absolute, that would never happen. It was also the point that I realized I didn't know what I was having. I didn't know if my son or daughter had died. What a horrible feeling it was. Even during the "official" ultrasound the tech couldn't tell us exactly if he was a boy because of the way he was laying, but she was pretty sure. She also did mention that the cord was by the neck, but that we would have to wait until we had him to get any answers at all. It was at that point i regretted not finding out at 20 weeks. I never got to enjoy my baby as my son while he kicked and thrived inside me. All I got to do was cry over losing him and that has been one of the hardest things for me.

My husband God bless his soul is absolutely amazing, but during times like this doesn't work well under stress. When I told him to get up to the hospital I didn't realize he would have both boys in the car with him and bring them along. I didn't realize when I would tell him that our little one wouldn't be coming home with us he would scream in language that probably wasn't appropriate for our boys that we lost the baby. That neither one of us would know what to say when my darling Landon came up to me at the hospital while we were waiting for my neighbor to pick them up and ask me why I "lost" the baby and he wanted to tell me daddy is really sad and mad that the baby is lost. You forget the innocence and literalism (don't know if that is a word, but I am using it) of children and I absolutely HATE that my daughter and son have had that taken away at such a young age by having to deal with their brother's death, but this is a rant for another time.

The next 7 hours sucked to put it mildly. I don't think it is possible to fully come to terms with what had happened or what was going to happen. I was being induced, which is what had happened with 2 of my 3 previous labors, I was watching football just like 2 years earlier when I had Luke. It was like a horrible deja vu without the happy ending. One interesting thing did happen between the ridiculous amounts of blood draws they had to do, honestly i felt like a pin cushion, which we will never know if it also played a role in things, is I had a cord prolapse when I was about 5 cm. It causes cord compression because it falls between the cervix and the baby's head...now in a live birth very serious issue that would have been noticed on heart monitor and requires emergency c-section. Obviously in my case it was not an issue. They just moved it to the side of the baby and increased my pitocin, but still interesting considering it was a cord accident that claimed my babies life and the baby was "floating" or higher up in my pelvis at my dr. appt on tuesday then the week previous. So between all the nurses drawing blood and the anesthesiologist giving me enough pain medication to kill a small horse we had to decide on whether or not to get an autopsy, genetic/chromosomal testing, or nothing. Things you aren't supposed to be discussing while in labor. We decided against an autopsy unless at birth there were no obvious signs and I am so glad we did. I couldn't imagine doing that to him. So then the waiting continued and thankfully it wasn't long. On Sunday evening I delivered a beautiful angel at 7:30 p.m.. Labor and delivery was simple...took all of 3 pushes and for that I do thank God. His cord was wrapped around his neck and tucked under. There were no knots, but the cord was so tight from his navel to his neck that the doctor had trouble getting it off of him and only that part of the cord was discolored which confirmed the cord accident. John cut the cord just like he did with our previous children and we got to spend 2 glorious hours holding him. I know people are scared to ask how he looked and he looked completely normal. He did have a little bruising to his face, but besides that you would have thought he was a perfect 7lbs 7 oz healthy baby. He was a spitting image of my first son Landon and I think that made it even harder for me. Not that I didn't want him to look like my other kids, but at that moment you are trying to take everything in and absorb every little thing about him, but at the same time distance yourself because the pain is too much to handle and you know you are going to have to say goodbye. How do you say goodbye to someone so innocent that you have so much love for? How do you say to the nurse, "okay you can take my son down to the morgue where he will be all by himself and I will never get to hold him again"? How do you make funeral arrangements for a child you have been planning a lifetime of memories for?

Unfortunately I am not the only one who has to do this. There are 25,000 stillbirths each year and unfortunately in 2010 I joined this grief stricken community. I am now a Baby Loss Mother ( BLM) a term I have learned through my online grief support groups and other grieving mother's blogs. I am hoping by writing I will continue to grieve and begin to deal with my loss. I have learned in 7 long weeks that there is no healing, only dealing. These are my first experiences with my "new" normal and as time has passed I know each day will get better. I apologize for rambling, but this is what I am using to keep from crying every day. I have many opinions to share and if you choose to follow me I hope you will see my progress as I move towards understanding who this new person is I am. I am still a mother, wife, daughter, sister and friend. For those of you who have offered me prayers, thoughts, and support I cannot thank you enough. I am still in this terrible storm, but the clouds do seem to get a little lighter as the days go by.