It's Not Over

I once again have to express my gratitude for all of the prayers that have been offered on my sweet family's behalf. I know I must sound like a broken record, but I honestly cannot thank everyone enough. The past couple of days have been filled with so many tender mercies and miracles. To truly understand where I am coming from, I will take you all back to Monday.

            Monday morning was like most mornings except I felt like a bus had hit me. I groaned and complained to Nate about my back and head. I told him I thought I was coming down with the flu and thought I should call in sick. I have never called in sick before and I was dreading calling my boss to tell him I couldn’t come in. I didn’t want to be one of those women that got pregnant and just blew off  her responsibilities. Nate finally convinced me that it would be a good idea to call in if I felt so crappy.  Being the amazing husband he is, he hooked our TV up in the bedroom so I could stay in bed and watch movies all day.  He put Tylenol on my nightstand, kissed me, and then left to go to work. I napped and watched movies until around 3 o’clock and then all Hell broke loose.

            I had just gotten off the phone with my mom when I realized I had wet the bed. ME! I am a 22 year old woman and I just peed in my freaking bed! Disgusted and irritated, I walked to the bathroom to clean myself up and I just kept peeing. I didn’t even have to pee, but here I was making a mess. It took me a few minutes to realize what was happening. I began to panic and I called my mom to see if it was possible for my water to break this early. She didn’t pick up so I called my sister and started balling and asking her what it was like to have your water break. She began crying and told me to call my doctor immediately and she would try to get ahold of our mom. I called the doctor and they told me to come in right away.

 I tried to call Nate to let him know what was going on, but his phone kept going to voicemail, so I began calling friends for a ride. I finally got ahold of a friend and she and her husband came over right away to get me. My mom kept calling me to try to calm me down because I was hyperventilating and not making any sense.

Nate was already at the doctor when I showed up and they took us straight into ultrasound. The ultrasound technician confirmed that my water had broken and that the heart rate had already dropped significantly. The doctor came in and began looking at the ultrasounds. I could tell by her face that things were bad. Nate and I held hands and looked into each other’s eyes. I was comforted knowing that I would always have him by my side.

The doctor began to speak, but I could hardly focus. She explained that the baby would not be able to survive without the amniotic fluid surrounding it. I had lost almost all of the fluid. The tiny bit left was not sufficient to keep the baby alive. The baby was too small and undeveloped to survive. We had a 0% chance of having this baby survive. The heart rate would continue to drop over the next few hours and probably stop by the next morning, if not sooner. I asked if the baby was in any pain. She assured me that the baby would not feel any pain though out the process.

             My heart was broken and I wished that I could die with my precious baby. I couldn’t stand this pain. I had just felt the baby move for the first time the night before. How could my baby possibly be dying inside of me, when the day before he/she had been moving so freely? I covered my face and sobbed. Nate held me as I asked, “why?” over and over again. I was devastated and angry. We had already been through this once and I didn’t have the strength to lose another child.

 The doctor kept apologizing for our loss and reassured me that I had not done anything to cause this. She began explaining the process since I would have to deliver the baby. The baby was too large to preform a D&C. She said they would send the baby to a pathologist to see why this had happened. She said they could dispose of the body, but encouraged us to have a burial and to name the baby to help us have closure. I was disgusted at the thought of “disposing” of our beautiful baby. This baby had grown in me for the past 16 weeks and I had felt his/her small movements. Nate and I loved this tiny human and making him/her medical waste was not an option.

The doctor continued by telling me I would come into the office the next day to deliver because the hospital didn’t do deliveries for babies that small. She warned me that I may possibly deliver at home that night. I got sick thinking of that possibility. She told us to not get scared and to bring in the body when the office opened. She repeated over and over that there was nothing to be done for our baby. There was no chance of survival for a baby this small and young.  They couldn’t do anything to prevent this devastating outcome. She hugged me and apologized that we had to endure this again.

I couldn’t breath. This was it. It was over. Our baby was going to die. My baby was going to die. There was nothing I could do to stop it.

            Nate called my mom to tell her the news. I grabbed the phone and all I could say was, ”I need you. I need my mommy”. I heard her choking up on the other end and she told me she would get there as fast as she could.  

            Everything is a blur after that. Nate took me out to the car and I cried so hard I could hardly breath. I kept asking why we had to go through this and I told him I wasn’t strong enough to go through this again. When we got home, Nate gave me a blessing and then we knelt side by side and prayed for strength and comfort. I don’t remember much else. I laid in bed, covered in blankets and mourned the loss of our little one. Nate held me and cried with me. I’m not sure how long we were like that, but I think it was a long time.

            I took a warm bath to help ease the pain from the contractions. They had begun getting stronger and I hated feeling them because I knew we were getting closer to losing our baby. Nate helped me get dressed and then took me out to the couch to watch a movie.

Within a couple of hours my temperature started rising and when it got over 100, Nate called the doctor’s emergency line. He was told to take me into the hospital immediately and have them put me in the labor and delivery unit. When we arrived they were already waiting for me. They had just spoken with my doctor and had decided to just have me spend a few hours in the ER for observation. They gave me morphing, antibiotics, and fluids. We were able to go home around midnight. Instead of going home and falling asleep, I tossed and turned until the sun came up.

At 7 a.m. Tuesday morning an angel arrived. My mom had driven through the night to be with us for the delivery. She came in and immediately wrapped me in a warm hug. There is something so comforting about a mother’s hug.

Nate and I spoke with her about burying the baby and tried to decide if we would bury him/her in Arizona with my grandparents or in California with Nate’s grandparents. Even as the words came out of my mouth, I couldn’t believe we were planning a burial for our child. My heart ached and I wanted to scream as loud as I could. Instead I sat quietly and tried to steady my breathing.

We arrived at the doctor’s office and they immediately took us back. All of the receptionists and lab techs touched my arm and gave me a sad look. They told me how sorry they were and to let them know if I needed anything. They led me to the ultrasound room and the technician turn off the monitor that would have faced me and moved the other monitor so I wouldn’t be able to see. As she began the ultrasound I asked her if the baby’s heart was still beating. She nodded sadly and then called for the doctor. Her face told me all I needed to know. Our baby was slowly dying.

They guided us to another room and the doctor came in to tell us what was going to take place. I expected him to ask if I wanted to deliver today or if I wanted to wait until the heart completely stopped. I never expected him to say, “well, the baby’s heart beat has gotten much stronger.”

Was I dreaming? The way the technician nodded had led me to believe the heartbeat had gotten lower, but my baby’s heart was strong! He proceeded to tell us that he has never seen someone in our position have a positive outcome. He asked us whether or not we would like to terminate the pregnancy and let us know most medical professionals would encourage us to end it because we still had very little chance of having a healthy baby. I looked at Nate and then told the Doctor that I would fight for my baby as long as my baby wanted to fight to live. He smiled and told me he was happy we had chosen to not have an abortion and that he would support us 100%.

The doctor explained that just because the baby’s heart rate had improved did not mean the baby would live. If I went into labor over the next few weeks there is absolutely nothing they can do to help a baby that premature. He told us to stay realistic, but that we had a very small chance of success. This was all I needed to hear. There is a chance. It is not over.