When my son turned 2, my husband and I thought it would be a great time to start trying for our second baby. We, of course, thought this would be easy. It took us 6 weeks to conceive our son.
After 2 years of no success we went for fertility treatments. The first round worked but unfortunately it was not meant to be, ectopic pregnancy. We continued to try with no success. Finally, on August 7, 2011 we got the best news ever. We were pregnant!!
I was so happy that this time the baby implanted correctly and all the struggles were finally over. Of course like any new pregnant lady, I was nervous during the first 12 weeks. Finally, we got to tell everyone. I was excited and nervous all at once.
The pregnancy went forward without any complications. I am diabetic but my sugars were under control, I was losing some weight, and I felt good. For some reason, I was an emotional wreck. I would cry at the drop of a hat, I was paranoid about everything. I was stressed out over everything and so worried I would lose my baby. Even with all of the support of my husband, mother and friends I couldn't shake it. I would cry almost every morning that I might lose the baby. I would pray for it not to happen. It was a constant on my mind. It was like my mind knew something was wrong.
During my 20 week ultrasound the tech tried to find out the sex of the baby but could only give us a maybe it's a girl. I was excited for that but thought there is no way I will ever be the mother of a girl. The doctor talked to us and I told him how stressed, emotional and paranoid I was. He wanted me to see my therapist and talk about more meds. I went to see her and decided that an increase of meds was needed.
At 22 weeks, December 7, 2011 my hell began... I had a good day and was excited to hear the baby. My meds were starting to work so I wasn't as stressed. As I was going to the doctor, I talked to my mom and hubby who both said everything would be fine. I got in and told the doctor I was still nervous so he said let's go look at the baby and ease your mind. What a joke! We poked and tried to get the baby to move but she wouldn't. At first the doctor just thought she was sleeping. After what seemed like a lifetime the doctor stepped out and I knew. He came back and said that it did not look good. He never said she was dead but I knew.
At this point he sent me to L and D in the hospital. They offered me a wheelchair but I wanted to walk there to call my family and get some air. I was in shock and crying. My baby was dead! This doesn't happen.
I called my husband. He said WHAT!?! It was surreal. He had our son so he needed to find a sitter so he could come to me. Then I called my mother who said the same thing but then she started crying. At this point I walked to L and D, got checked in and waited. I called people who needed to know, like work, church and then called my mom again.
Finally, my husband arrived. We waited for the US tech to do the official "your baby is dead" US. She finally came and did it. They couldn't find anything wrong, but my baby was dead. The doctor gave me the option of natural childbirth or c-section because that is what I had before. I went with the c-section because I wanted this to be done quickly and I was afraid with my previous c-section and surgery I might rupture. They would do that in the morning.
December 8, they did my c-section. In the OR, I was pretty out of it but I still remember someone saying OH MY. I knew then that it had been a cord accident. When they were done I went to recovery where my hubby joined me. They told me I had a girl and what had happened. She had the cord wrapped around her neck 3 times and her arm 3 times. All I could do was cry.
Over the next couple of days, the chaplain came and blessed my baby girl. Also I planned her funeral and did all I could to stay sane. I was too scared to see her or hold her. Finally, I decided to hold her. I kissed her and told her I loved her and would miss her. My husband, mother and MIL held her too. It was the closure I needed to truly start the grieving process. I didn't see her because I was too nervous, but just holding her wrapped body made me truly her mother.
My daughter's name is Olive and she existed. We had her funeral on December 15. It was the only thing I could give her and it was beautiful. There is not a day that goes by that I don't think about her and wish she was still in my belly. I don't know how I made it through the holidays and I don't know how I will make it through what should have been her due date, but I will. I have a little boy to be strong for and a family to take care of. No person should every have to lose a child at any age. Once a woman hears she is pregnant, she becomes a mother. Losing that baby is hell.
So now I start the new me and we will see what happens. I still want another baby, but who knows how we will get there.
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