Born Still...Our Story

April 1st, ten year's ago, fell on a Sunday, I know this, just like I know 2+2=4. If I am brutally honest, I remember it, because, it's the last time I felt whole. I remember dancing around in our living room with a big pregnant belly, while holding hands, with my oh so very young , 20 month old toddler Tomas. It´s almost movie like, I can see it in my mind, I have pressed rewind, and viewed it over and over again, it was a momment of pure joy, dancing to music on the radio, enjoying a wonderful sunny morning. We had been blessed with a beautiful healthy son, and I was 38 weeks pregnant and waiting for the arrival of a healthy baby girl. We were almost home free, really. Everything had gone fantastically well, I was a picture of health, all ultrasounds indicated our daughter was healthy , all we had to do was wait for her to make her appearance into the world. I pause that Sunday, in my mind, and have gone over and over it again, trying to see what I missed, or perhaps just to hold onto that perfect day. Sunday soon made way to Monday, as they all do, but this Monday would be different then all others, it would change my life forever.
I woke up that Monday with the sense, that something was wrong, just not right. My heart told me it was our baby girl. She was still, no kicking, no moving. That day was going to the hospital, for regular fetal monotoring. My husband came home to pick up me and our son, to take me to the appointment, I told him I did not feel right, that the baby was not moving. He assured me I was just nervous, as our due date was just around the corner. We arrived at the hospital, made our way to the waiting room, set up Tomas with his snack, and patiently waited for my appointment. My turn quickly came, I kissed my boys goodbye, and went with the nurse. Amidst the regular chit chat, I lay down on the bed, they hooked up the monitor, and we waited to hear a heart beat......nothing. The nurse, explained the machine was new, she was trying to get the knack of it, she was starting to fidget. My heart grew heavy, I knew something was wrong. The nurse paged my Ob-Gyn, who quickly came. She suggested an ultra sound, so as to see our baby girl, and remarked the new montitors had been causing problems. They were just as scared as I was, I could see it in their eyes. Once the ultrasound was hooked to my belly, I knew exactly what was before my very eyes, our beautiful baby girl, but no heart beat. I felt my own heart stop, my world came crashing around me. No one spoke, they just stared at one another, I suppose searching for words. I was the first to speak, tears already rolling down my face, "our daughter is dead, Emma is dead", to which the doctor replied , yes I am so very sorry.
They then proceeded to explain, what would happen next,I can't remember any of it, all I knew was that my husband was waiting for me, and how was I going to tell him that our baby was dead. The walk from the examination room to the waiting room, felt like like it would never end. I walked in to see our beautiful son eating a yogurt, being fed to him by my husband. I am sure he could tell, something was wrong. I searched and searched for words, all that came out was, Emma has died. I could feel the blow of my words upon him, something I will never forget.
The doctor came to speak with us, she suggested, I stay in the hospital, so they could induce labor, I would have to give birth to our daughter. I insisted I wanted to go home, give our son his dinner, put him to bed and then come back to the hospital. She agreed, and said to be back by 9 that evening. The next couple of hours are some what of a blur, there were so many phone calls, most to our families, explaining what had happened. And trying to make sure our son would be be taken care of, while I was in hospital. For that first night, I wanted my husband to stay home with him, and I would go to the hospital by myself. I eventually made my way to the hospital, that evening, in a state of shock and disbelief, our baby girl was dead, how could that have happened.

 That Monday night, I was induced, put in a room at the end of the hall, and left to lick my wounds, in the maternity ward, while all around me, other women gave birth to healthy babies. Ten years have gone by, but the smells, the sounds are still so vivid. It would be two whole nights before Emma was born, that is so much time, so much time to think, so much time to blame, so much time to hate, so much time to cry, so much time to hope it was all a big mistake. Wednesday morning, the board of Ob-Gyns, decided, to up my dosage, in the hopes of starting labor, they wanted to get things resolved. I rememember thinking to myself, I hope none of these drugs work,  I knew that when they did, I would have to say hello and goodbye to her, she would no longer be mine. What ever they pumped into my veins worked quickly, I gave birth to our beautiful, perfect baby girl in the bed in my room at 11:45 am., I remember begging on of the nurses to please baptize her, she did, I will never forget her act of kindness. They dressed her in her going home outfit, and handed her to me. How do you say hello and goodbye to someone, you have waited 9 months to meet. I hugged her, kissed her, told her I loved her, and that I was sorry, oh so very sorry, I had not been able to help her, that I had failed her, that I didn´t save her. That was the last time I saw my daughter, we had maybe five minutes together. I am still so hurt over this, and angry, the hospital felt it best to separate us, I was put on bed rest in one room, and Emma was placed in a room next to mine, for viewing. Her funeral was that afternoon at 5pm., my husband endured all that by himself, as I was not allowed to leave the hospital. He never talks about what happened, I suppose one day he will talk about it. I stayed in the hospital one more night, before begging a board of doctors, to please let me go home. To have lost a baby, and  have to sleep in a maternity ward, is cruel, it is torture, at one point during the night, I stuck gauze in my ears , so as not to hear all the other babies cry. The following day I was released from the hospital, my husband and I both walked out of the hospital with empty arms, and heavy hearts. He held on to me , as if to hold me together, as we walked down the very long hallway out of the maternity ward. The last time we had left that ward had been so different, we had left with a baby boy in our arms, flowers, balloons, and a great sense of happiness. This time there were no flowers, no gifts, nobody but us. The ride home was quiet. I wondered what it would be like once I got home, what would it feel like. I felt akward, I had given birth to a baby girl, but she wasn't with us, my milk had come in, I had stitches, all the signs of a mother who had given birth, but no baby to be found. We arrived home, and though my heart was torn in a million little pieces, I was over the moon to be greeted inside by our beautiful son, who was beside himself, all he could say, was " my momma, my momma, my momma" and ran into my arms. That hug, at that moment was the glue that would help me mend, slowly but surely, help put me back together day by day. Lord knows, I just wanted to bury myself in the ground with her, butTomas, still needed me to be his mother, I could not curl up into a ball and disappear of the face of the earth. Losing Emma thaught me so many things, that people will say hurtful things, when all you need is for them to listen, it taught me that the people you think will show up hold your hand, and wipe away your tears,will not come to your side. Most of all I learned that you could fall  in love with someone, without even having heard them cry or meeting them. By the Grace of God, we have had two more beautiful children, since Emma died, Sara and Simon. Although I feel I am a good mother, I sometimes feel, Tomas got the better mother. Its like there is a "before Emma"  mother, and an "after Emma" mother. The change isn't in how I love them, because I love them all the same, the change was me, this big gapping hole in my heart, changed me forever. So you see this is some of our story, its the first time I have shared it with such detail. Its been in my head for 10 years, now that it's down in writing, perhaps, I can let go of some of the hurt and heal some more.