In May of 2012 I finally felt ready and able to document the details of Patricia's birth. I have never shared it publicly but knowing how much it helped me to read others' stories, I am sharing it now.
On Monday, March 26th, 2012 I went to work after a wonderful babymoon weekend in San Antonio with Cliff. I was excited because I was reducing my counseling schedule to two nights a week which meant I would get to go straight home to enjoy a walk with Cliff. During our walk, I didn’t notice baby moving or kicking much. I tried to remember the last time I felt movement but I couldn’t pinpoint it because I had been busy at work that day and baby was usually more active at night anyway. After we ate dinner, I sat in the recliner and relaxed, hoping baby would take advantage of the extra space and say hello to us. I started to get a little worried when after two hours of relaxing and watching tv, I still felt no definite movement. We decided to go to bed and I tried lying on my left side because baby usually got very active at this time when I was in this position. When I felt nothing, I began to get even more worried. Being a first time mom who is also in graduate school (and thus not fully up to date on my pregnancy reading to the week), I wasn’t sure what was normal at this point. Cliff and I considered going to the emergency room, but we convinced ourselves that everything was probably fine and they wouldn’t be able to do anything for us anyway. I decided to go to my Dr.’s office first thing in the morning, just to make sure.
It was a restless night. We woke up on Tuesday morning feeling grey. I convinced Cliff that I would be fine at the Dr. by myself and he should plan to bike home from work as usual. This meant that I would drop him off at work and go straight to my Dr. I texted my boss that I’d be in late because I had to stop at the Dr. on the way. I think Cliff and I both desperately wanted to believe that everything was okay, even if deep down we sensed something was really wrong. On the way to Cliff’s office, we both voiced the thought that if there was a problem, I would call Cliff and he would get a ride to the Dr.’s office from his coworker. We were both in denial.
I arrived at the Dr.’s office just before they opened at 8:30am. There was no one in the waiting room but the front desk was staffed so I walked up and explained to the receptionist that I was 31 weeks pregnant and I hadn’t felt the baby move since Sunday. I knew my Dr. was at one of the office’s other locations that day, but the receptionist said they would get me in with another Dr. I took a seat in the waiting room, and even while I was sitting there, I was trying to convince myself that baby was fine. I felt a couple of twinges and thought to myself “I think I just felt something, I’m so silly for being here.” A few minutes later, a nurse called me back. She took my weight and led me back to the sonogram room where we had first seen baby on the monitor, 22 weeks ago. She put gel on my belly and started up the machine. She let me know she was just taking some measurements and then left the room to get the Dr. I continued to lie there, a terrible feeling building up inside of me. She hadn’t said “Oh, everything looks great” or showed me baby’s heartbeat like I was desperately praying for. I started praying to God and the universe to please make everything okay.
The nurse and the Dr. came back in after a few minutes and she started up the machine again. The Dr. pointed to the screen and said “Here is the chest cavity. Here is where we’d expect to see a heartbeat and it’s just not beating.” My world collapsed. I gasped loudly. I couldn’t breathe. I simply couldn’t believe it. As I started to cry I asked him, “Are you sure, are you sure?” He was.
The Dr. said he didn’t see any signs of bleeding or tearing, and that everything looked as it should. He said that it was probably an accident involving baby’s cord, and that there was nothing I could have done to cause or prevent it. He said sometimes these things just happen. He told me that he would schedule me an appointment with my Dr. on Thursday morning, two days from then, and she would check to see if my body made any progress on its own to deliver baby. He said that I would be induced Thursday afternoon and that the process could take a couple of days. He also told me not to “be a martyr,” to get something for the pain. He said he was very sorry.
I remember calling Cliff and telling him that he needed to get his coworker to drive him to the hospital immediately. I said “We lost the baby.” I hate that I had to make that phone call. I hate that I was in such denial that I didn’t let him come with me to the Dr.’s office that morning. My poor husband had to find out about the death of our first child, the center of our hopes and dreams, over the phone.
My next call was to my coworker to let her know why I wouldn’t be in the office that day, and to ask if she could tell my boss what happened. I will be forever grateful that she took that burden from me.
They let me sit there waiting for Cliff, who had to wait for his coworker to get to work before he could get a ride. They brought me water and tissues, and a nice receptionist came back to comfort me and tell me her own story of her son who was stillborn over 20 years ago due to a cord accident. The whole time, I prayed for it to be a dream, a terrible nightmare. Eventually they asked me to move to a different room to wait, and I was happy to get out of that one, which felt to me like ground zero. Soon after, Cliff arrived. He walked into the room where I was sitting in a chair and he went down to his knees, held me, and we cried together. I asked him if it was a dream, or if it was real. He confirmed that it was real, though we still couldn’t believe it. When we felt ready, we left the room and a nurse led us out a back exit so we did not have to go through the waiting room.
It was almost 10am. Cliff managed to drive us home safely. When we got inside, I immediately moved all of baby’s things into the nursery. Our beautiful stroller, which we had been proudly displaying in the living room, was not something I could look at. Nor was the car seat, or any of the gifts from the baby shower my coworkers held for me the previous weekend.
We decided not to tell my parents until we could tell them both together. That meant we had to pass the hours somehow. After some crying and hugging, we decided that it might be better if we left the house. There were just too many memories and plans. We went to the Japanese gardens, hoping for some peace and serenity but were disappointed to find that construction nearby took away from the quiet atmosphere. Additionally, the babies and toddlers there with their families were too much for us to handle. We decided to go home and attempt to distract ourselves with a silly movie. We rented “Tower Heist,” knowing that it was a movie neither of us would ever want to see again.
When 5:00pm finally came, we prepared to go over to my parents’ house and let them in on our misery. I know they were expecting some news because I had texted Dad earlier in the day to see when he would be home. I am sure that they never expected this. None of us did. They were waiting for us in the living room when we got there. They stood up when they saw us, and asked how things were. I said “not good.” I told them that I had been to the Dr. that morning because I didn’t feel baby move the night before. I said that they did an ultrasound, and that the baby’s heart had stopped beating. Mom immediately began to cry, but unlike the happy tears she cried when we first told her of her new status as a grandmother, these were heavy sobs. We cried together on the couch for a while before I was able to explain everything the Dr. had said. Dad called my brother and told him the sad news. I couldn’t talk to anyone.
The next 48 hours are blurry in my memory. We survived like robots. Eating when food was put in front of us, sleeping when it became dark, and crying until our eyes dried out. We all did research about stillbirth and what to expect and shared notes. We talked about what it might be like and some of the decisions that had to be made. We received flowers from friends and family, and delicious cookies from my brother. Strangely, we looked forward to Thursday morning, when I would have another ultrasound with my Dr. and make a plan.
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