I honestly don't know how to begin, so i'll just start from the beginning.
I felt a kick at 10 in the morning the day of our 36 week appt. where we were going to see our son. It was to the song "I just can't wait to be king." The appt. was at 4 and we couldn't wait. That was the last time I honestly felt him kick. Thursday Feb. 19.
The ultrasound showed that he was in breech position. This was upsetting because we were hoping to see his face and perhaps pick a name out of the five we had. We only saw his back and legs. We heard and saw his heart beat, and everything looked great. That night, we were both upset because we didn't get to see him and I wanted him to be flipped. So I started looking up exercises to do to help him. I had help and articles sent my way from family and friends. Throughout the weekend, I was doing said exercises and feeling him try to flip. My stomach would tense up and I believed that was him pushing against my stomach. I called it the hamburger because I could grab it like a burger. There were some times when it was diagonal and I thought I could tell he was trying to flip.
Come Monday, my stomach tensed a lot more, but I didn't feel any kicks or punches. I thought this was due to him being almost 37 weeks and in a breech position facing my back. I started to feel concern and called my doctor. I was told to eat something substantial and lay on my side to do a kick count. I wasn't feeling anything for 40 minutes, and let Nick know everything that was going on. He came home so that he could take me to the hospital and we could get checked out.
I'm nervous and hoping nothing is wrong. Just freaking out and wanting to make sure everything is okay. We get to the hospital and go straight to labor and delivery. I told them about no movement and they strap me right up.
As I lay there and they get the machines all ready, i'm hoping everything is fine. They start to look for the heartbeat and have trouble finding it. This happened at the appt. because he was in a breech position. I tell them where my doctor found it and they tried there. They think they found a faint sound but couldn't make it out if it was his or my heartbeat. They then go get an ultrasound machine.
While we wait, I look at Nick. He assures me everything will be fine and that they are getting the machine so that we can see him. I don't know what to think, and just hope for the best.
They get the doctor on call in the room with the ultrasound machine and start looking. They showed me the same thing I saw at the Thurs. appt.
She pointed to where his heart was and told us this is where we should see movement... there was no heartbeat. no. heartbeat. .... no heartbeat.... NO HEARTBEAT!!!!! She just looked at me and said I'm so sorry.
I couldn't believe it. I went into total shock and the only thing I thought to do was cry. The shock crying with no tears because you can't believe this is real. I just started crying and said, "My baby!" over and over again. Nick grabbed my face and made me look at him. The first thing he said after seeing and hearing that he just lost his son was, "This is not your fault."
Our son, our beautiful son was gone.
They brought in another ultrasound machine with a different sonographer to get a different perspective and maybe their machine was wrong. The hope was there, but I had to accept that he was gone and nothing can change that. Different machine with lots of looking. It was then that is was definite. They saw that he had skull edemea (sp?) and that was a sign of not receiving blood for sometime.
Sitting in bed while Nick held my hand letting this information sink in was painful. Heart crushing pain.
Our doctor had been called and arrived after the second ultrasound. He was in shock as well, but needed to remain professional. He informed us that we can't look back and we need to look forward. There were going to be questions thrown at us that we needed to be prepared for. We were given options on how to go about the birth and what we wanted to do. We decided to go home and be with our families and then come back to the hospital and be induced.
Calling our family and friends to tell them that our baby passed away was horrible. A phone call that no one should ever have to make. Telling people that they lost their grandson, nephew, and godson. Horrible, wrong, heartbreaking, awful, upsetting, and unfair.
We went home in silence while holding hands knowing that the future has completely changed. Our family was there waiting for us. Tears flowed. Hugs were given. Words were shared. We told them our plans and eventually agreed to have people come to the hospital if they wanted.
I was induced on Monday evening at 11p.m. Family and friends waited in the waiting room. Nick was with me the whole time. I had friends come in and talk with me to keep my mind off of the situation. It helped, but the occasional tear would fall. It was a point of nothing can be changed.
Sleep did not come easy due to the cramps and the hardness of the bed. I was also experiencing pregnancy shakes. It's like a nervous shaking, but really hard and uncontrollable. So when I would go to the bathroom and come back, I would start shaking real bad and it was hard to sleep.
With a little bit of sleep, I fully woke up around 7 in the morning. Our parents came in and we all hung out until I was ready to push. The night before, our priest had come by and talked with us and said he would be there the next day. He was. He was with us during delivery.
I pushed for 2 minutes. I guess all that walking I did at my job helped out a lot!
Our son was born sleeping at 12:59 p.m. on Tuesday February 24, 2015.
As the doctor held him up for me to see, my heart burst out of my chest with excitement, awe, love, and wonder. My first thought was that he inherited Nick's side by looking as his dark hair. He was placed on my chest so that I could finally see my son's face and know what he looked like. He was beautiful, precious, and my little boy. We were told that his passing was due to the umbilical cord being wrapped around his neck twice. Based on what he saw, he probably passed away three days ago.
The day before when we were asked what his name would be, I wanted Bradley Isaac. For about a whole day, that was his name... until we finally saw him. I looked at Nick and said it wasn't a Bradley. If you knew me, you knew that I was going to do this. Nick agreed that he wasn't a Bradley either and the name he suggested was perfect.
Samuel Tyler. :) Our perfect Sam. He weighed 6 pounds and 2 ounces and was 19 inches long.
I appreciate the photographers that came and took these pictures. They mean the world to me and that we have pictures of Sam.
I don't want to think or remember the sad parts of this day. I want to remember giving birth, seeing my son and holding him, enjoying the awe and wonder of the actual experience. That day sucked, but I finally, we finally got to see Sam.
It's been over 7 weeks now, and it still sucks. I cry. There are good days and there are bad. The good outweigh the bad, but sometimes I can't hold it in. The mask crumbles and it sucks soooo bad.
Nick and I are pulling through this and I could not have done it without his support and support of others. Thank you everyone who has listened to me cry, to talk with, to give me a hug, or just be there for me and us. It means everything. If I don't answer or say anything back, just know i'm not ignoring you. Sometimes it's because there is nothing to say.
We've been through the what ifs and the whys. We've read multiple articles about what happened. We talked with a different doctor and he gave us answers. We've talked with our doctor and he said the same thing.
It sucks. It's unfair. Why? AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
The pain sucks, but it is easing each day. I talk to him and think about him everyday. It just sucks that I won't be able to raise him, watch him grow, learn his personality, see his milestones, birthdays, holidays, hugs, kisses, scrapes, anything. Nothing.. I only have our song. I had a song stuck in my head and put in on the belly band and played it for him. He kicked to it and enjoyed it. One day it came on the radio as I Was driving home from work and I turned it up. I started dancing and he started kicking. We danced together to the UpTown Funk song. That's our song and whenever I hear it, I dance and think that we had that experience together. Thank you Nick for buying the belly band so that our son could experience music.
We are trying again. It's our goal to have a rainbow baby. Whenever my body is ready, it will know when I can conceive again. Until then, Nick and I wait patently and talk together about anything. He has been my rock through all of this and he helps lift my spirits when i'm feeling low.
Nick,
You are my everything and I love you so much. Thank you for everything that you do for me, for us, and for our future. I know you work hard and are trying to make our future what we want it to be and I hope that you know it means the world to me. I love you.
Sam,
My beautiful son. I am sorry. What I thought was you moving was actually a Braxton Hicks Contraction. I have gone through what ifs and there was nothing that I could have done. I'm sorry. I hope you know that I would never do anything to hurt you and I didn't know that you weren't moving. The only thing I can take away from this is that I know what those contractions feel like and that no question is a dumb question when it comes to pregnancy. I love you sooo much that it makes my heart hurt. I know that I will see you again one day and that you are being taken care of. God, I love you so much and I hope that I can make brothers and sisters for you. I think about you all the time. Daddy and I are moving to get a fresh start and have a home with more family friendly attributes. Living in what would have been your first home has changed. The hopes and dreams we had have changed. You will always be with us. There are many people here who love you and think of you everyday. Until we meet again.
Love,
Mom
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