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Saturday, May 1, 2010

April 27th 2010

I was tired. I didn't want to get up. I didn't want to get my son ready for school. I wanted for us all to stay in bed and cuddle. But...the day had begun and I had an appointment, and my son (Dayne) had to go to school because he was going to his Auntie's house to play with his cousin after school, and he was excited. So, grudgingly, I got up.
I made Dayne his breakfast, checked my email, messed around on the computer. We had pizza for supper the night before and I thought about how bad it would be if I just ate that for breakfast...I mean, who would really know? I woke up Steve, still thinking about breakfast. Got them off and went ahead and grabbed some pizza.
I brought it to my bedroom and sat in bed with the computer and my very, very bad breakfast. It was then that I thought..."Have I felt the baby today?" It wasn't a big deal because I had this thought a lot. I was overly paranoid through the entire pregnancy. Usually, shortly after I had that thought I would feel a little foot in my ribs, or a hand at my side, some kind of twitch. On this day though, I felt nothing.
I ate my pizza, thinking about the lack of kicks. I drank a bottle of water, thinking about the lack of kicks. I laid down in bed, on my side, hoping to feel a kick. I asked on a parenting website I frequent, "How can I make the baby move?"
The answers were always the same when someone asked that. Drink something cold...check. Eat something...check. Drink something I grabbed a pepsi...check. Lay on your left side...check.
I called my sister and told her I was starting to get a little freaked out. I was trying to calm myself. Surely I was over reacting. I got off the phone after she helped calm me down some and I told Steve. He had taken me to labor and delivery twice already. He had listened to me complain and fret over a million things already. I thought for sure he would dismiss this as another paranoid moment...He did not. His face became worried, he asked when...when had I last felt her...I couldn't remember. Not since last night at least...He pushed on my belly, shook my belly, tried to move the baby, wake her up.
At this time, I was more calm than he was. It was around noon and he wanted me to call the doctor. My appointment was at 1:15...why not wait, I said. He urged me to call, so I did. They were on lunch, no answer. He told me to call healthlink to ask if we should head in to labor and delivery or stick with the appointment.
The nurse on healthlink commended me for my good instincts...If only she knew, the instincts were not mine, they were Steve's. I had second guessed myself so many times I thought I MUST be over reacting. She told us to head straight in...So we went.
At the hospital they did not bring us in to triage. They brought us in to a private room. I thought it was because of a lack of beds. Steve felt it was in case something was wrong...Steve was right.
A nurse practitioner came in. She checked for the baby's heart beat and couldn't find it. I looked at Steve, terrified and when I saw his face, I knew he was terrified too. When no heart beat could be found, the nurse practitioner wheeled in an ultrasound machine. She looked for the heart beat...again, she couldn't find it. She got two more doctors to look for it. No one could find my baby's heart beat. Where had it gone?
The doctor told us, at that time, that there was nothing more they could do for the baby. She was gone. I can't tell you how my heart broke. It shattered into a million pieces. And when I looked to Steve, I could see that his heart was also broken. We cried there, for a very long time. Steve asked what would happen now, how would the baby be born? And I told him the thing that was terrifying me. I would have to deliver her.
We were allowed to go home for the night. To tell our son what had happened. To tell him that his baby sister would never be coming home. We did a lot of crying and prepared ourselves for the next day.
What would prove to be one of the hardest days of our lives.

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