What many people do not realize is there is no safe milestone in a pregnancy. There are outliers and unexpected things that can tragically occur. Pregnancy and birth is a gift that is often taken for granted. Candice (who has an awesome name), shares her own personal story with us during Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.
Candice- What I want you to know is…there is no such thing as the ‘safe zone’. 12 weeks is not the magic number, after which everything will definitely be just fine.
Once you know loss, you can never go back to naivety.
I had my last appointment at the birth center at 41 weeks, 4 days. I asked if I should get an ultrasound. They said they’d be happy to write a referral but that it wasn’t really necessary. My vitals and the baby’s were good. They could tell that she was head-down. I was dilated 1 cm and about 50% effaced. We made a several-step plan to try to get labor going, including using the breast pump, taking some herbs, and drinking a ‘midwives’ cocktail’.
The next evening around 9 pm, I started having what felt like one long, continuous contraction in my lower back. I slept fitfully that night, waking every hour or so with the pain. In the morning, the pain in my back was gone. By 11 am, I still hadn’t felt anything, and got so frustrated that labor had stalled.
My midwife came for a home visit that afternoon. My blood pressure was still in the low-normal range, as it had been the entire pregnancy, and baby girl’s HR was in the 140s. We made a plan to meet at the birth center in the morning and try anything that would possibly kick start labor again. We still had the referral for the sonogram. We decided that we’d call in the morning, and if they had an early appointment available we’d go.
When I called the office, they said we could be seen in two hours. Our sonographer was the same one who had done our 20-week anatomy scan. For 30 minutes, we watched her little heartbeat on the screen as we counted her movements and measured my amniotic fluid. Then the sonographer started to measure her skull. After a few clicks on the screen, she said she needed to be right back. After too many minutes, she came back and said our midwife would meet us at the hospital, not the birth center. We didn’t know what was wrong; we hoped she was just being overly cautious since I was “overdue”.
I didn’t understand. I had spent so many months believing I was so lucky. I had such an easy pregnancy – no morning sickness, no diabetes, very little heartburn or discomfort. We did all the optional genetic testing and the 20-week ultrasound was perfect. I followed all the rules – no alcohol, no sushi, no hot tubs.
An OB-GYN I had never met before broke the news. When she walked into the room, she was sniffling and I thought the she might have a cold. My husband told me later that he had a clear view of her face and could see she was crying. Even though our baby had been growing, and kicking, and hiccupping, there was something wrong with her brain. A word we’d never heard before: hydranencephaly. No one could tell exactly when, but weeks, or maybe even months earlier, our baby had had a stroke. Because the blood supply to the brain was cut off, where her cortex had been, there was now only fluid. However, her brain stem was not affected, so she had continued to develop physically like any other baby. As we waited for the doctor, I remember saying, “But her brain was totally normal at the 20-week ultrasound. Brains don’t just disappear.” I was wrong.
I felt confused and numb. I wanted the monitors off. There were so many questions that I don’t remember now. We talked about resuscitation, funeral homes, pain medication, and many other things.
Contractions started again that evening. After another 24 hours at the hospital, they were still only about 6-8 minutes apart, and I had only dilated another centimeter or two. We decided it was time for an epidural and Pitocin. I had wanted a natural water birth, but everything was different now. I sat on the edge with my feet dangling while the nurse raised it up. She and my husband kneeled in front of me, each holding one of my hands. I tried my best to stay still and not think about what the anesthesiologist was doing behind me. I was crying, not just from the pain. I looked at the nurse and told her, “I’m just sad.” She was crying too.
A little after midnight, they told me I was at 10cm and I could start pushing soon. When a plum sized portion of her head had crowned, they had me reach down and feel her hair. They asked me again after a few more pushes if I wanted to feel her head again. I didn’t. If I could just keep her inside for a little longer, she’d be safe. I whispered during one of my breaks, “I’m afraid she won’t breathe”.
Soon, they said that on the next push, she would be born. They laid her on me, and my first words to her were, “You’re so warm!” I was surprised how she felt like a hot water bottle lying on my belly. When I looked at her, I knew, but part of me was still expecting her to open her mouth and cry.
I hadn’t noticed the photographer arriving, but she was already taking beautiful photos. I asked for warm water and wash cloths so I could clean our baby. I didn’t want anyone else doing that for me. She was 7lbs, 13oz and 20” long. She had long, dark hair and the softest skin I’ve ever felt.
We were told we could have 24 hours with her. We spent Sunday with the three of together in the hospital bed, dressing her, and trying to memorize every little detail. The nurse made molds of her hands and feet, and washed her hair so that we could see its true color better. It was so sunny through my window, and they told us it was close to 70 degrees. We asked if we could take her outside. Two of the nurses found a quiet place with benches and pretty flowers, and cleared it out.
For the two and half days we had been at the hospital, I had only shed a few tears. But when I watched them carry her out of the room for the last time, sobs ripped through me from somewhere deep in my soul. I didn’t recognize my own cry; I could feel the ache in my chest of my heart breaking.
-Candice
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