On October 10th 2008, my husband, oldest kiddo and I went to the OBGYN to have my ultrasound done for my 2nd child. We had been out of state the month before and were going in to this appointment a bit later than normal. We were so excited. We couldn’t wait to find out the sex of the baby. As the scan was underway the technician went from bubbly and fun, to quiet….very quiet.
She left the room, said she would be right back. I remember looking over at my husband, panic was setting in. We knew something was wrong.
But I could feel that baby dancing inside of me, so it couldn’t be that bad, right?
The technician came back with the Dr and they began talking…. my world started changing. There was something wrong with our baby. But they were not 100% sure what. It was a girl, but she seemed to have Downs Syndrome, as well as a ton of health issues.
The next day we went to a Specialist. We had an amniocentesis done to see exactly what was going on and to have genetics testing. When the Dr went in with that huge needle, he told me that he knew this wasnt going to be easy. There was not a lot of fluid in this sac and he might have to go in a couple times. I squeezed my husbands hand and closed my eyes tight. It was over, that part at least.
On the 12th we saw the Genetics Counselor. She told us that our baby had a rare chromosomal disorder. It was called Turner Syndrome. Turner Syndrome only effects girls, they do not develop full reproductive systems, they can have heart and kidney issues and they have a much shorter life span. Our baby had this, but was also very sick. She was already experiencing multiple issues. Her heart was beginning to go in to failure, her kidneys were not functioning, her limbs were all extremely swollen, she didn’t have enough fluid in her sac to survive the full pregnancy and she was only measuring at 3 months (I at this time was 6 months along).
On the 14th I saw my personal OBGYN. He went over further results with us. Our little girl (whom we had named Taylor) was dying. Her body was giving out on her. She was not going to make it. My Dr was surprised she had made it this long. In fact, he was flabbergasted my body was holding on. I remember him telling me that this shows us what an amazing mothering body I had. Even though this baby was extremely sick and hurt, my body just kept providing and kept her going. My Dr wanted to schedule surgery for the 17th. He truly didn’t think she would still be alive then and we would monitor before anything was done, to be sure of this.
On October 16th, I remember standing in the shower, the heat enveloping my body. It was practically hugging my tummy. I sang to her, I prayed for her, I cried, I wondered why….. she stopped moving. I never felt her again.
The next morning we went to the hospital, they confirmed she was gone. They took me to the surgery ward. The prep room was on the same floor as Labor and Delivery. I still can hear women pushing, them crying from pain.
I laid there, struggling to breath. It all hurt. Not pain from an injury. But pain, much more deep than that.
We wanted this baby. We had planned and tried for her. I had prayed secretly it was a girl in the early months. I remember one camping trip having horrible, vicious cramps when I was 3 months along. I remember being so scared I was losing her. I prayed for God not to take her.
Now I was here. In a surgery room, prepping to have this little baby taken from my body.
Maybe if I had not prayed so hard it was a girl? I should have just hoped for a healthy baby! Oh my God, did I do this? Was she trying to let go at three months? Did I fight what was naturally suppose to happen? Did she experience pain, because of me?
I now can look back at this and absolutely know the answers to all of these. No! You didn’t do this! But at the time, its all I thought about.
When I woke up the Surgeon had told me that everything was done. He reconfirmed that she had already passed. He also told me that she had been extremely swollen, her whole little body.
The next several weeks were a whirlwind. I started following up with a Psychiatrist that had been recommended, post-surgery check ups and trying so hard to not feel the constant cloud that was always over me. During this time I turned to my kid. He was three at the time and understood something happened, but of course he wasn’t grasping exactly what. He helped me though. I could look to him for a giggle or a hug. I’m sure I put more pressure on him than I should have during that time, but I couldn’t help it. I needed him more than he needed me.
Light at the end of the rainbow?
But of course.
We got pregnant again, quicker than I thought. We had our Rainbow Baby, in fact he is that kiddo I wrote about a couple posts ago. You know, that fiery, full of attitude, strong willed kid? He was the last bit we needed to recover from this. Well that and lots and lots of counseling.
I became a member of these groups called Remembering Our Babies and Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope. The groups were made to basically allow woman to help others that have gone through, or are going through something very similar.
This was it. This was what I was meant to do with this. This was the answer to my why.
I was able to help coach many woman through their losses. Because I was so open about my story, I also would get approached by family and friends going through a loss or a friend of a friend. I discovered that though this loss hurt. Still hurts. I could find a couple blessings from it. The gigantic heart of my oldest who always wanted to care for mommy, helping others through this difficult time and my healthy youngest little man.
This pretty little bracelet was gifted to me by my little sister. The date 10-17-08 is written on the back.