CHAPTER 1
Mixed Emotions
(August 2010)
A smile spread across my face as I watched the pink plus formon my pregnancy test. I couldn't wait to tell Patrick, my husband,the wonderful news. We were expecting another child! As theincredible news sunk in, so did my trepidation and anxiety. Mixedemotions took over as the absolute joy quickly turned into panickedfear. Not your typical reaction to a wanted pregnancy. My thoughtsbounced between the little baby growing inside of me and my lasttwo pregnancies and deliveries.
James, my first child, was born on January 12, 2009, five weeksearly following an uneventful pregnancy. By uneventful, I experiencedthe typical morning sickness during the first trimester and the fairlyrelaxed and easy second trimester. Shortly into the third trimester, Ibegan to have frequent contractions, especially when exercising. Mydoctor said that this was typical and the contractions were just BraxtonHicks contractions, getting my body ready for labor and delivery.The week before James came into this world, I remember just notfeeling right. There really wasn't anything in particular wrong, justthis nagging feeling that something wasn't right. The feeling passedand I went on with work and my typical days, thinking everythingwas fine. On Thursday, I began having contractions regularly, but noton the consistent schedule that OB's say indicates active labor. Afterfour calls to my doctor's office and repeatedly being told this wasjust false labor, I spent the rest of the day lying on the couch, tryingto find a position to ease the contractions. They eventually stoppedand I felt fine by Friday afternoon and absolutely full of energy onSaturday and Sunday.
Sunday afternoon I attended a friend's baby shower and waspretty much in a good mood. James was still in my belly where hebelonged, although he was hanging out a little lower than he hadbeen. At the time, I thought this was a wonderful thing, since I couldnow actually take a normal sized breath, and the foot that had beenstuck in my ribs was no longer there. That night at 11:20 P.M., I gotout of bed to use the bathroom and my water broke. I called for Patand asked him to call my parents as I called my doctor. After about10-15 minutes, real contractions set in. By real, I mean frequent,excruciating, long contractions. The typical "call your doctor andhead to the hospital when contractions are getting stronger and about5 minutes apart" didn't apply to me. When my contractions started,they lasted a full minute and were only one minute apart.
My parents began the drive to Delaware, as my mom wassupposed to be one of my support people during delivery and theyhad a five-hour drive to get to the hospital. This is plenty of time fora first baby, right? Labor and delivery is typically much, much longerthan a mere five hours. Pat grabbed the suitcase I had packed andhelped me into the car. This was the longest 15 minutes to the hospitalthat I could ever imagine. Every single minute, I would be gripped bythis unimaginable pain that took over my entire body and would lastfor a full minute. My contractions were so close together that therewas no time to relax a little and get ready for the next contraction likeyou're told to do in all of those pointless childbirth classes.
We arrived at the hospital and were taken right back to triage withno waiting, thank goodness! Upon examination, they determined thatI was already 5 cm dilated. I can remember asking for an epidural andbeing told that we had to wait until I was in the labor and deliveryroom, and currently they were just waiting for a room to be availableto move me. I'm not sure how long I waited for a room; it couldn'thave been that long, but it seemed like forever. Once I was in thelabor and delivery room, I again asked for an epidural, only to betold that I had to wait until I received an IV bag of something sinceI wasn't far enough along in my pregnancy to have a Strep B testcompleted, and they didn't want to chance the baby getting it duringdelivery. As I struggled through the debilitating contractions, waitingfor the painfully slow drip of the IV to empty the bag, people werein and out of the room. The on call doctor wasn't there yet, but wason his way. Finally, what seemed to be an eternity later, the IV dripwas finished and the anesthesiologist was there to put in the epidural.Once that was in place, the relief was almost immediate, and mymind was able to focus on what was going on around me.
The on-call doctor finally arrived and upon examination, shortlyafter the epidural was in place, it was found that I was already 10cm dilated. The doctor and nurses instructed my husband and methat it was time to start the delivery phase of labor. After three shortrounds of pushing, we were blessed with the sound of James crying.James was born at 1:37 A.M., only two hours and 17 minutes aftermy water broke. A team from the Neonatal Intensive Care Unitwas called to examine him since he was premature. Fortunately, wecouldn't have asked for a healthier baby, small as he was. Jamesweighed in at 5 pounds 13 ounces and stretched to 19.5 inches. Heactually was a decent size for being five weeks early and was justshy of being an average weight for a newborn. Elation took over asI called my parents to tell them that they missed the delivery of theirfirst grandson. We were eventually transferred to post partum andthe rest of our experience with James's arrival went smoothly andwas pretty typical.
Fast forward to just past James's first birthday. Early in February,I found myself staring open mouthed at another positive pregnancytest. How could this possibly be? I had an IUD put in after I hadJames since I wanted reliable birth control but didn't want to takethe pill since I was breast feeding James. This method was supposedto be 99.9% effective. Are we ready for a second child? We certainlywanted another one, but weren't planning on this happening so soon.I quickly called my doctor's office to get the blood test and schedulemy first appointment. Pat shared in my joy and anxiety with thisexciting news.
The first thing we had to do was make sure the pregnancy washealthy. The risk for miscarriage and tubal pregnancies is extremelyhigh when conception occurs with an IUD. The stress and anxietyand happiness that we went through waiting to find out if everythingwas as it should be were almost unbearable. About five weeks intothis pregnancy, morning sickness set in. By morning sickness, I meanextreme nausea and vomiting that would start somewhere between3:00 and 4:00 P.M. and last until about 3 in the morning. Every halfhour or so I would find myself rushing for a bathroom and hopingthat this would be the last time I had to vomit for the day. Over thecourse of the next two weeks, I lost about 10 pounds. Unable tokeep anything down despite trying everything that I could find thatclaimed to ease morning sickness, I finally got a prescription for ananti-nausea medication that helped a great deal. I was a bit hesitant totake the medication, not wanting to do anything that might potentiallyharm my baby. Even after tons of reassurance that the medication wassafe and used frequently, I took it only when I absolutely needed it.The criteria for actually needing the medication, in my mind, was thatI had some function that I had to attend in public and just couldn't berushing to a bathroom and non-functional for the entire time. Sittingthrough jury duty qualified as one of those times.
Around week 10, an ultrasound was completed at my first OBappointment and everything looked as it should. The baby was theright size and in the right place. A heartbeat could be seen. Once Iknew that everything looked okay for my baby, I relaxed immediately.I can remember talking with my doctor about James's delivery, sincenow my only fear was not making it to the hospital in time to delivermy baby. There was this unreasonable, or possibly reasonable (givenJames's delivery) fear of having my baby on the side of I-95 tryingto get to the hospital. I was reassured that they would do everythingpossible to prevent this from happening and to make sure that I was inthe hospital for delivery. When I got to be close to my due date, I wouldbe admitted to the hospital and induced. This plan was acceptable forme, and I was able to enjoy the remainder of my short pregnancy afterthe extreme morning sickness lessened at around 13 weeks.
Sunday, May 16, 2010, a date that I will always and foreverremember. I was almost half way through my pregnancy. Afterspending a morning at the park with James, I put him down forhis nap and decided to rest for a while. Pregnancy is exhaustingand I had knee problems, which were making it difficult to walk.Using a pillow to prop my leg up and relieve the pain, I got myselfcomfortable on the couch and tried to take a brief nap. As I waslying there I started to feel very weak contractions that almost feltlike minor menstrual cramps. I didn't think too much about this,especially since I had the Braxton Hicks contractions so frequentlyduring James's pregnancy. I got up to get a glass of water to see ifthat would help ease the cramps, but was unsuccessful. Finding mycomfortable spot on the couch again, I decided to just rest and relax,as that would be the best way to get the cramps to subside. Afterabout an hour, I got up again to use the bathroom and was horrified tofeel and hear the gush of fluid as my water broke. At the exact sametime, I heard James start to cry.
Pat was at work during this time, so I rushed to get James and tryto comfort him. Carrying and bouncing him through the house to calmhim, I frantically searched for my cell phone and called Pat and thenmy doctor. I just remember saying, "I think I'm losing the baby," andhe was at the house within minutes. Afriend was at the house, paintingour foyer for us, so we left James with him in a hurry and rushed to thehospital. My doctor was on her way, even though she wasn't even thedoctor on call that day. As we drove to the hospital, I held my stomachand just cried, I couldn't feel my baby kicking anymore.
Upon arrival at the hospital, we were directed to the triagewaiting room for what seemed to be an eternity. When I was calledback to the check in room, I can remember the nurse asking whyI was here. After telling her that my water had broken and I washaving minor cramps, I was appalled to have her ask, "Are you sureyou're not incontinent?" She took my vitals and said, "Your pulseis too high, are you worried about something?" Seriously, I wasabsolutely convinced that I was losing my baby; obviously havingyour water break half way through a pregnancy is not a good thing.As she continued with the vitals, we discovered that my baby stillhad a good strong heartbeat. He or she was alive. This did little tocalm my fears but did create the teeniest, tiniest bit of hope. Oncethis torturous check in process was completed, I was directed backto the waiting room.
Finally, my name was called for an exam room. After reviewingwhat was happening yet again, the resident doctor conducted an examand then gave us the news that I knew was coming. Losing the babywas "inevitable." The umbilical cord had prolapsed (pushed through)when my water broke. There was absolutely nothing that could bedone to save my baby. We were then bombarded with choices: dowe want to induce or let me go into full labor naturally? Do we wantthe baby blessed? What do we want to do with the remains? As allof these questions were being thrown at us, preparations were beingmade to transfer us to the high risk wing of the hospital. The samenurse that conducted the check in process came by to express hercondolences; it was almost as if a switch had been flipped in thetriage area. It went from, "Here's another paranoid pregnant woman,"to, "Oh, she's really losing her baby, we should be nice," in about ananosecond.
My parents were on their way to the hospital to be with me, andone of my dearest friends, Stacey, rushed to be at my side duringthis unimaginable ordeal. Fortunately, I wasn't in much pain. I choseto be induced, not seeing a point in prolonging the inevitable. MyOB came to talk to me about what to expect and review some ofmy choices again. For some reason, the nurses and doctors found itnecessary to repeatedly tell me that my baby would not be able tosurvive. I couldn't even begin to the count the number of times I wastold, "There's a 50% chance that the baby will be born alive, but heor she will not be able to survive." After that statement, the lecturewould continue explaining that if the baby was born alive, he or shemay live for a couple seconds, minutes, or even hang on for hours.My heart broke repeatedly as I imagined holding my tiny baby in myarms, helpless to stop the pain or imminent passing. The prospect ofmy baby being born alive only to perish shortly after his or her arrivalseemed so incredibly cruel to me.
After hours of being in the hospital trying to coming to termswith everything that happened over the course of the day, JoshuaCole slipped silently into this world. In my mind, it was a blessingthat my sweet baby boy never took a breath outside of the womb. Hedidn't have to suffer and struggle only to pass away. The nurse tookhis tiny body and cleaned him off, wrapping him in a little blanketand putting a tiny little hat on his head and then gave him back tome. The tears flowed freely down my face as I held my baby's stillbody in my arms. I kept him with me for a long time, not able to trulysay good-bye. He looked like a miniature version of his big brother,the same shape of his eyes and forehead. The same little nose. Yearslater, I still find myself studying the pictures that the nurse took ofhim from time to time, remembering my baby boy that never had achance at life.
The next morning, I was discharged from the hospital and rushedto get back to James. I couldn't believe how much I missed himduring this terrible experience. All I wanted to do was hold him inmy arms. The following week was spent taking my maternity clothesout of my closet and putting my regular clothes back in, a processthat took so much longer than getting the maternity clothes into mycloset. After about five minutes, I would have to sit down and cry fora while and then I would be able to return to the awful task at hand.I simply had to get this done though; I couldn't bear to continue tolook at all the maternity clothes that I no longer needed. The outreachand support from my friends and family helped me so much to getthrough this trying time.
People simply don't understand the amount of grief experiencedin the loss of child during pregnancy. Being around pregnant womenor newborns was so excruciatingly torturous. Obviously, I wishednothing but the best for these women and their babies, but I couldn'thelp but feel bitter and jealous. Why was my baby taken so harshlyfrom me? After returning to work a week after Joshua's death, I wasassaulted by former co-workers bringing their new babies in for agoing away party for another co-worker. I can remember being inmy cubicle doing some paperwork when I heard an infant's cry.The tears pooled in my eyes as complete panic overtook my body. Igrabbed my purse and ran out of the building, only to find that mykeys were not in my purse, so I couldn't actually leave. Sinking tothe ground outside of the building, I took a deep breath, collectedmyself and headed back into the building, unable to actually returnto my cubicle area.
Months later when Pat, James, and I were at the beach with family,we were expecting another guest to come and stay with us for a dayor two. I had never met this woman before and knew very little abouther except that she was my brother-in-law's sister. When she walkedthrough the door with her two kids, my mouth must have fallen openas I openly stared at her pregnant belly. Abruptly turning and leavingthe house was all I could manage to do. She looked to be about whereI should have been in my pregnancy if Joshua hadn't been denied achance at a life. It would've been nice to be told that she was expectingbefore I met her, but again, people just don't seem to understand thegrief that goes along with losing a child. There was nothing to doexcept try to cope and get through the next few days forced to have aconstant reminder of the child that I would never get to know.
