In the early morning hours of Tuesday, Oct 17, I awoke with a fear and the notion that I had not felt the little guy move in some time. I searched my brain to to recall that the last distinctive movement I remember occurred the day before around 7:30a'ish. I hoped that I had just missed his movements throughout the busy day I had had. I poked the belly, gave a little wiggle, changed directions in bed all in an attempt to get some movement out of him. Nothing. As I laid in the dark, I tried not to worry - perhaps he's a hard sleeper. As time passed, all my prompts were met with stillness. I made a call to my office's emergency line. The on-call doctor encouraged me that sometimes little ones move quite a bit less in the third trimester. She instructed me to eat or drink something sugary and lay on my left side and do kick counts. I was to count at least 6-8 movements of any kind in that hour. I was back to laying in the dark trying to will his stillness into movement. After 45 minutes of waiting and praying, there were no kicks to be counted. It was time to head to the hospital.
I called P on our way as I thought it best to let her know what was happening, assuring her that all was fine and that I was likely being overly cautious. I even felt a little bit like a silly worrier going in, but better safe than sorry. And I told P I'd call her just as soon as I knew anything.
My husband drove me to my OB's office (he never left my side). We arrived at 9:15a and were immediately taken back to an exam room where I was promptly hooked up to a fetal monitor. The nurse could not pick up the baby's heart right away, so she called in another nurse "with more experience." She could not find the heartbeat either. She said to us, probably reading the concern on our faces, "We should just get the ultrasound monitor out. It'll be much easier." The doctor (although not MY doctor as she was out of the office that week) came in with the bedside ultrasound and began to scan my tummy. "I'm sorry. There's no heart activity," she said with tears in her eye. My first thought was for P and how I was going to have to call her and tell her that everything was not fine. Oh how I wished for someone else to make that call for me, but I knew it only right that I call - it was my place. "I don't know how to say this. I'm so sorry to tell you that there was no heartbeat." Tears.
A more detailed ultrasound was performed and showed nothing unusual. We began to prepare for delivery that afternoon, at 31 weeks & 6 days gestation. I began pitocin at 3p - how very odd it was for us to be in a delivery room as we had been so many times and not to feel the excitement and anticipation as before. Just stillness and grief.
P and Z arrived at the hospital around 4p and my water broke just before 5p. I received an epidural shortly after as we all agreed that we had enough pain already. My mother was able to arrive to be with me at 6p. She was looking forward to meeting P one day but certainly not under these circumstances.
Baby boy arrived at approximately 8:30p, weighing 4lbs, 3oz. The irony of an eerily quiet room after the birth of a child was not lost on us.
An examination showed that this sweet boy's umbilical cord has become wrapped and tangled creating a kink or knot that stopped the flow of blood and oxygen to his little body. We are told this is very rare and was nothing anyone could have seen coming therefore could not have been prevented. His cause of death will likely be recorded as a cord accident. Although we are thankful to have a reason, the pain remains the same.
We all got to spend some private time alone with him: P and Z alone and Theo and I alone. He was such a beautiful boy, a perfect mix of his mom and dad. I am so humbled by the trust given me to carry him for every second of his precious life.
He was laid to rest forever a baby in a private service with his family on October 19.
Days later and I am still in disbelief. My heart still aches for P and Z and my wife.
ReplyDeleteHow I wish I could express myself as she has in this post. :'(