I just submitted this to:
http://facesofloss.com/
This is Carter's Birth Story:
I had an uneventful pregnancy. I had no morning sickness,
and my biggest complaint was that I was tired in my first trimester. I never
had any bleeding, and had no questions for my OB doctor. The appointments were
uneventful, and as of 26 weeks everything sounded great.
My baby boy’s heartbeat was strong. My doctor just wanted to
make sure he was growing well and she scheduled an ultrasound for that
following week.
I guess this is the part where I should mention that I am 26
years old, have been happily married for 4 years, and have antiphospholipid
syndrome (APS). APS is basically “sticky blood.” I take blood thinners, and in
the case of pregnancy I take Lovenox. My OB sent me to Maternal Fetal Medicine
to figure out what dose I should be on and they recommended 80 mg 2x/daily. I
didn’t think to question this; I really should have.
Jump to the week following my OB appointment. It is
Thursday, May 16th, 2013. It is 1:00 am and my husband is saying
goodnight to me so he can go work on artwork in the basement (he’s an
illustrator.) I keep feeling my belly stretch but I figure it’s my little guy
being active. My husband swears that he
can feel our son Carter moving around. I fall asleep but keep getting woken up
by what I shrug off as Braxton hicks contractions. At 4:00 am I go to the
basement and tell my husband that the contractions are getting more frequent
and have become a little painful. He urges me to call the doctor but again, I
figure its just false contractions. By 5:00 am I am a little worried and decide
to call my doctor.
The on call doctor tells me to go to the labor and delivery
wing at the hospital to rule out a bladder infection. I tell my husband and we
get in the car and head to the hospital. We hit every red light on the way, and
I am telling my husband to relax that we will get there when we get there. We
get there at 5:20 am. We walk in and are taken back to triage to listen for my
son Carter’s heartbeat. The tech runs the wand over my belly for a while and
asks where does my doctor usually find his heartbeat. I point to the right side
and she continues searching. She gets up and goes to get an ultrasound machine.
At this point I start crying because I have a sickening feeling. I wonder to
myself when the last time I felt him moving around. My husband swore he felt
him at 1:00 am, but I think I last felt him at 8 pm the night before.
The tech and another person come in and use the wand on my
belly. I see my sweet baby boy, but no heart beating on the monitor and he
isn’t moving around like he always does. I am crying non-stop at this point and
know that my baby is dead, my husband is holding my hand and crying. 6 more
people come in and search for a heart beat. A doctor comes in and tells me that
my baby has died. Because he was 27 weeks I have to deliver him. We call our
families who come rushing to our sides so early in the morning.
This feels like a sick dream to me. How can I deliver my
first child who isn’t even alive anymore? Can’t they just knock me out and take
him so I don’t have to experience birth with a dead baby. All of these thoughts
were running through my head. They tell me I can either go home for 12 hours
while my lovenox wears off so I can get an epidural, or I can stay at the
hospital for 12 hours. Either way they are not comfortable inducing labor while
the lovenox is still in my system. I choose to go home. I take a shower, and
numbly wander my house with my husband. We take turns crying back and forth. I
just keep thinking why me, why can’t I have a healthy living son instead of a
baby who has already died inside me? I have my husband take my first and only belly
shot (I thought I just looked fat and didn’t want a belly photo before that.)
It is 7:30 pm same day. We arrive at the hospital. Thoughts
of “I can’t do this” run through my head. My husband has his arms around me,
and my dad is with me they usher me into the labor and delivery area of the
hospital. We get to the elevator, and a woman who is in labor joins us. It
feels like the longest elevator ride ever. I wonder why does this woman get a
healthy baby and I am here to deliver my son who passed away. She heads down to
the desk to check in and I find myself unable to move. I sit down on the bench
and a nurse named Carrie comes down with paperwork and tells me I don’t need to
come down there. I fill out the paperwork and blindly follow her to the labor
and delivery suites. My mom, my husband’s parents, my dad, my stepdad, my
stepsister, my best friend Katherine and my husband are all in the room with
me.
Dr. D comes in and tells me it is time to induce labor with
these odd little sticks that expand my cervix over several hours. I prop my
legs up in the stirrups and these spotlights are pointed right at my lady bits.
I have never felt so exposed in my life. Him and his assistant put in the
sticks, which feels like a slightly painful pressure. It takes about 5 minutes
but feels like an hour with my bits on display. He says this labor could take
several hours or several days then says that I can have an epidural at about
6:30 am when he gets back in.
The next 6 hours or so go by in a blur and eventually it is
just me, my mom and my husband in the delivery room. The nurse Carrie props me
up with about 8 pillows, gives me a sedative and a nice shot of morphine. I
fall asleep at about 11:30 pm on Thursday.
I wake up with blinding pain shooting through my body. It is
about 3:20 am and I am yelling to my husband to get Carrie I think my water
broke. She comes in and tells me to go to the bathroom. I some how get to the
bathroom and I have the desire to push. I push and I hear plunk, plunk. I reach
down and feel something dangling between my legs. I yell out Carrie! She has me
waddle to the bed while my son’s legs are hanging out of me. I climb on the bed
and she has me push twice. By 3:28 am my son is born without the doctor. Just
me, my husband and the nurse Carrie. The doctor comes rushing in too little too
late but in time to deliver the placenta and have my husband cut the umbilical
cord. The tech with the doctor said “what do we do with it?” and the doctor
responded “we give HIM to his mother.”
The next thing I know my perfect red baby is on my chest and
I am crying again. He is beyond perfect to me. Except for the fact that he
isn’t breathing, and not alive. In my heart I know he is gone, but I am
desperately hoping for a miracle. The miracle never came….
Carter was 27 weeks, 13 inches, and 1.94 pounds. He was born
at 3:28am on May 17th, 2013.
The next 6 hours were the best and worst of my life. I feel
so lucky to have had the opportunity to meet and hold my son in my arms and
kiss his face. We took hundreds of photos, got his footprints, and got casts of
his feet. We got to spend six precious hours that I will never forget. I would
give just about anything to have him alive and well. It is such a terrible
tragedy to lose a child, and I would never wish it on my worst enemy.
Since his passing I find myself questioning myself, and the
doctors. My OB told me that she would not increase my lovenox so I went to my
primary doctor. I question if I should find a new OB one without a god complex.
We have planted a special hybrid apple tree and got a
special urn for him. We are having a celebration of his life party on June 1st,
2013. He will always be our special little hawk baby. We will never forget him,
and will love him until our dying day when we will join him wherever he is.
Love you sweet baby boy.