Mike and I decided during the summer of 2012 to try for a baby. We had gotten married in April, and both knew we wanted a child together. This was my first pregnancy, and I can’t explain the ecstatic feeling of seeing that positive pregnancy test. It just didn’t seem real yet.
We had a bit of a scare early on, around 6 weeks, when I had some spotting. They did an early ultrasound and said there was nothing to be concerned about. Everything was going just as it should.
We allowed ourselves to relax. We had gotten past that “danger zone”, right?
Along with my sister giving us boxes of clothes that my nephews had once adorned, we began picking up small special pieces of clothing. We couldn’t wait to dress Connor up in the adorable pieces of clothes.
He was looking for the heartbeat and couldn’t find it. The doctor wasn’t worried and said he would grab the ultrasound machine, but was sure it was fine.
He searched with the ultrasound machine for a few minutes. I could tell by the doctor’s tone of voice, everything was not fine. He told us to go to the hospital right away. He would call. They would be expecting us. Their machine is stronger. They can get a better look. He held my hand and said, “I don’t like what I’m seeing. If this is an infant, demise know that is nothing you did. There is nothing we could have done to prevent this and you did not cause this.”
We left the doctor’s office in tears. We knew at that point Connor was gone, but tried to cling to hope. The pain I felt walking into the maternity ward and seeing the nursery, knowing we would most likely not be using it, was inexplicable. I felt as if my heart was literally ripping in half.
They checked us into a room. We later found out this was “the” room. The room every family, who is not taking their baby home, gets checked into. This room is larger than the average room. The guard at the front desk knows that this room is allowed to have extra visitors, and visitors of any age. There is a flower on the door to symbolize to all workers walking in that this is not a happy occasion.
A nurse comes in to take me for the ultrasound. They have a policy that Mike can’t go with me. I guess they don’t want someone who can move around and look at the screen in the room. I instantly was in tears. I was expected to go to the ultrasound alone? I just wanted to be at home. Feeling my baby kick, after another routine doctor appointment at which we were told everything is great see you soon. That wasn’t our reality now. That same nurse stayed with me during the ultrasound. She held my hand and made sure I wasn’t alone in that moment.
The doctor came in about 45 minutes later. Mike and I had been waiting less than an hour, but it seemed like a lifetime. He told us our suspicions were confirmed. Connor was gone. He reiterated that there is nothing we could have done and we did not cause this. No matter how many times he says that it doesn’t help. It doesn’t bring our baby back.
I’m instantly checked into the hospital. I had to deliver Connor, as I was too far along for any other option. I didn’t know how I could ever make it through this, and still don’t know how I got through that week.
Monday night, March 4th, they induced me at 11:00. They gave me a medicine every four hours. The doctor explained that it should go pretty quickly, as this is a strong medicine. It didn’t. For the next few days, the doctor would tell me my body just wasn’t ready.
We finally got some progress Wednesday afternoon when contractions were getting stronger. The doctor said he had other things he could do, and that it would be over Thursday one way or another. Being in the maternity ward was painful. I could hear cries of other babies occasionally. Babies that parents would get to take home. Excited fathers would ask Mike how things were going at the coffee machine. Unable, and not wanting, to go into detail he would simply say “slow”.
Finally, Wednesday night around 8:00 my water broke. I got an epidural, and went to sleep while things progressed. Around 2:30 am I called the nurse worried my epidural may have been wearing off. She checked me and said I was ready to push. They called the doctor and got him back to the hospital.
Connor was born at 3:39 am on Thursday, March 7. He was perfect. He had my nose, and my blonde hair. As I held him, I missed him already. It seemed unfair that this perfect little boy had been torn from our lives. Mike, my parents, sisters, and grandma were there and got to hold him as well. A pastor came and baptized him there in the room, with the family all present.
The hospital put together a memory box for us.
In the memory box was one of the most concrete items we will ever have of our son. His footprints on some clay. They did a fantastic job and got perfect prints. The hospital doesn’t want anyone to leave “empty handed”. At least we have memories of Connor. My first born will always be dearly loved.
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Lynn says
Hey Guys. Im still here…email to follow. Thanks as always, for sharing the stories of the children that cannot be forgotten. They were here, whether in their moms bellies just under the palm of their dad, or held in someones arms. They were here. I am working on my photography website, and I was writing the ‘about me’ section. I needed a tagline to describe WHY I love photography, and all I could think was ‘a photo is proof you were here with me’. Some days having a child that’s been lost feels like a dream? Did that REALLY happen? Its a time of confusion and deep deep sadness. I never knew I could know such dark days as after we had our losses.
As your previous post stated you are giving those who have no voice a voice. You two are always in my hearts and thoughts.
Lynn
Chris and Candace says
Lynn, it is always great to hear from you and it is exciting to know that you are making such great progress on your website. Although we have not had the experience of miscarriage or infant loss, we hear time and time again from those that have that they truly cherish every second they had with their child. These people are an inspiration and we are glad that other people can read their stories and find strength.
Thank you for your well wishes and we will keep everyone updated as our story progresses!