My Story

Almost immediately after Fiona died, I felt th urge to write. I knew I needed to express myself and do so freely. I just didn't know what to say. The first few days home from the hospital, I scoured the internet for answers or stories of women who have been through what I have. I just wanted to not feel as alone as I felt. I found some great sites and some awesome blogs. So here I am, trying to return the favor. I'm sure most of the people who will be reading this will be my family and friends, but I hope that if there is a woman out there who has just experienced stillbirth, they will find their way to this blog and know they a not alone. 

My Story

My husband and I were extremely excited to be becoming parents. James has always wanted to be a dad. He was born to do it. I was thrilled to finally become a mom and terrified at the same time. My pregnancy was pretty uneventful. As I entered the las handful of weeks of pregnancy, my blood pressure was creeping up. It was getting high, but not yet in to what they would consider preeclampsia. My labs and blood work came back normal, but they had warned us, we would not be going the full 40 weeks and be prepared for induction. As much as I didn't want an induction, I didn't want to be pregnant anymore. I was not one of those people who enjoyed being pregnant. I felt so out of  control, I just wanted my baby out so I could feel a bit more in control of her environment. We prepared ourselves and prepared our apartment for Fiona's arrival. 

Monday morning we had an appointment for an ultrasound to make sure Fi was ready for induction. We were so excited to our baby again and get an idea of when we were going to meet her. We were joking with the ultrasound tech before I lifted my shirt to see our little girl. It didn't take long before I knew something was wrong. The tech got quiet and the heartbeat bar came up and it was blank. I said "oh my god, there's no heartbeat." The tech looked at me and said she needed to get the doctor but she was sorry.

My memory after that is a bit blurry. I remember the sound of my husband's heart breaking. I remember repeating over and over "I can't do this." I knew I was going to have to be induced and go through labor without having the prize at the end. I heard the tech and the doctor talk about possible clots but there were no signs of other issues. I remember calling my mom and just sobbing in to the phone while James called one of my sisters to tell her to meet us at the hospital. We had the choice, we could go home and process or go straight to the hospital. I chose to go to the hospital and begin the terrifying process . Why would I want to go home? I had a dead baby inside of me. I needed to get it out. (Sorry for the bluntness, and there will be more) when you are in shock and pain your mind does weird things. I was already trying to figure out how I was going to leave the office without going through the waiting roo. The last thing I wanted to do was to scare the women waiting for their fantastic appointments. I didn't want to steal their innocence as mine has been taken away. 

They lead me out of the office, with James by my side and we got in the car to drive across the street to the hospital. It felt like everything was moving in slow motion. We had to check in at the hospital and they kept asking me questions I couldn't really answers. My social, date of birth. I couldn't answer because I couldn't get over the fact that this was not how it was supposed to happen. We got in to our room and met with the doctors, who asked more questions and offered more apologies. Our family began to flock in. James and I are lucky to have big, supportive families, who dropped everything and came to our side.  I sat in the chair while the doctor went over what was ahead of me. I would be begin with medication to induce labor, at could take awhile, once my body was ready, they would begin the Pitocin to bring on strong contractions. I could have as much medication as I wanted, I wouldn't have to push hard if I didn't want to. They were going to make this the easiest they could, but he's, I would have to go through labor.  I was introduced to my nurse, Jill,  my angel. They had to do their medical thing and get IV's ready, take all my vitals. As they did this, I refused to get on the bed. I knew what it meant to get on that bed and I didn't want to do it. I didn't want to do any of it. Jill did everything she could while I was sitting in the chair and didn't force me to get in the bed.  Eventually, I had to get in the bed. I had to begin the process of dilating and contracting. I had my family with me and my husband holding me up as we began the crappy journey of labor. The whole process took a little more than 24 hours. From first medication to actually delivery. The time between that is blurry to me. Not only was I on some great medication, but I was going through so much grief. I said and did some strange things. I began planning a vacation for James and I to take. My thought? I wanted to get away. I wanted to be happy like I was on my honeymoon. I wanted to be away from anyone who might know what happened to us. Not to mention, we were now going to be saving $800 in childcare, we could afford it. (Sick sense of humor, I know... But hey.. Your mind does strange things in despair).  My actual labor, the pushing  and birth portion, from my point of view was beautiful.  I had my sister, Sarah holding one hand and James on the other side holding my other hand. He whispered words of encouragement as I worked to push my little girl out. I had Jill and the midwife and the doctor all telling me how good I was doing and that I was so strong. I didn't feel strong, but I knew I needed to push Fiona out. I had to work for her. I needed to have some sense of normalcy in this labor. She came out at 4:59pm on May 19. She was 6lbs 12 oz and absolutely perfect.  She had my hands and my feet, but she looked like James. She had his mouth and his eyes. She was perfect. I held her for what seemed like forever but not long enough. I remember handing her off, knowing I had to or I would have never let go. I immediately missed her. One the medications how're off and family had left us for the evening, I began planning our trip away. I tried anything to mentally get away from what actually happened. That nit, I slid out of the hospital bed and slid next to James in the "dad couch" and slept there for most of the night. I needed to be close to him and know that he wasn't going to leave me because I didn't make him a dad. 

So that was my 48 hours of hell. That's what I call my time in the hospital. The worst 48 hours of my life. The following days and weeks weren't much easier. Leaving the hospital with a box and not a baby was infuriating and heartbreaking. It was not how it was supposed to happen. 

We have been trying to make sense of this. Trying to find the silver lining. We have no answers as to why this happened. All  tests and labs came back normal. Three was nothing wrong with the placenta. The clots that they saw, they think we're postmortem. It was just the shitty straw I pulled. They assured me that more than 50% of stillbirths can't be explained. There was nothing they could find. She just died. I couldn't have prevented it. 

I'm happy to have my health. My blood pressure has since gone down and I healed well. My body is on the mend and my heart is getting there.  Our next hurdle is trying to get pregnant  and pregnancy after loss. 

This is a long one. It's the beginning.. 

Keep checking back. The journey has not needed. It's just begun.