Here Is My Story..

It is surely just a dream.... a strange dream. A nightmare in parts. A sweet, lovely, ethereal dream at other times. But then the pain hits you in the heart. It throws you into a place of darkness...and yet there is light because she was there... that tiny little baby was a beacon of light for just a short time. So you focus on the light and at times it helps. At times it makes it worse. The questions swirl and rage around you. Trying to make sense of what just happened can make you crazy. Finding answers becomes an addiction. You read, you research, you pray, you scream, you cry, you cling to every word of every story that is similar to yours trying to patch this puzzle together in your mind with tape that won't hold it all together.

Christmas Eve morning of 2011. I thought that I felt different. I had bought a pair of little boy socks, a pair of little girl socks, a gift bag and a pregnancy test. I took the test while I was alone in the little loft that I share with my husband. His children were here for Christmas break but they were with him at the time. It was just me and Rowdy... my Yorkshire Terrier who is always by my side. I took the test and then went into the kitchen to keep my mind off of it for a few minutes. When I walked back into the bathroom, there it was.. it said PREGNANT. I was super excited! I literally looked at my dog and jumped up and down. I dug in my chest of drawers for the socks and gift bag and just for good measure threw the test in the bag too. When my husband came back we went downstairs and I told him that I had a present for him. He looked in the bag, took out the socks and the test and just smiled really big. He hugged me, we kissed... we were so excited.

Things were rough from the start. I was sick EVERYDAY. We own a restaurant and just the thought of working made me even more ill. It got to the point where I could stay in bed until about ten every morning, get up, get ready and make it downstairs to the cafe by eleven to help out. I had migraines, gout, I couldn't eat. Finally at about 20 weeks I was ok.  I could eat real food. I could go to work. I had a little more energy. My feet and ankles were swollen but I was fine. I could feel her kicking me at certain times of the day and waited in anticipation for those sweet little love taps. We went for the Level 2 ultrasound at UAMS when I was 23 weeks. It had taken about a month and a half to get an appointment and we were anxious. I had levels that were high for spina bifida and we were concerned... but the consultation before the ultrasound was reassuring and I went into the ultrasound room with confidence. The scan was done. We were told to wait. We waited. And WAITED. Then the specialist comes in and tells me that my levels were off the charts. I should have been in for this test weeks ago... but my OB/GYN made the appointment for me... I thought everything was fine and this was just routine. The scan found no neural tube defects. No spina bifida. It did find that our little girl didn't have enough amniotic fluid, she was measuring at about 20 weeks, and looked to have a bowel obstruction. I was 23 weeks. She was behind. The man held my hand... this doctor that I didn't even know. He told us that she had about a 25% chance of making it through the next four weeks to a viable stage where they could take her. He told me to go home, rest and come back in four weeks. We would see a neonatalogist, possibly hospitalize me to keep her growing inside me until they could take her.

The appointment was booked. They gave me a box of tissue. The assistant who was in the room when the doctor told us was crying. She hugged me. I didn't know what to do. My husband and I went to eat lunch at our favorite pizza place and we both just sat in the booth and cried. There was baseball on in the bar and a really nice businessman sitting to the other side of us. He just kept looking at me with sympathy, not even knowing that my world had just been torn apart.

We returned home and decided to tell people. We needed prayer and lots of it. We had prayed over this baby every single day since before her conception and she had to make it. She was a fighter. She was hard headed like me and she would make it! I was really careful. I stayed in bed. Two days after the news I had an appointment with my OB/GYN. My mom and my husband were there. Blood pressure was too high. I was admitted into the hospital on Wednesday, May 16th. Fetal heartbeat was good. I needed bed rest, to get my blood pressure down and to make it another four weeks. They checked heartbeats frequently, she was kicking in there and doing well. Thursday morning my husband came to the hospital around 6:30 a.m. The nurse came in to check for the baby's heartbeat and there it was... right in the middle of my belly.... good and strong. He left to go to work and my sister came by for a visit and then I turned on my left side to rest and take a nap. About 11 that morning the nurse came in to listen for heartbeats. She couldn't find it. A second nurse couldn't find it. A third nurse from Labor and Delivery couldn't find it. BUT I HAD JUST FELT HER. She was kicking me. Find her heartbeat please....I was screaming on the inside. My mother came, I was in ultrasound within a few minutes and the tech scanned and took pictures. I was put back into a wheelchair and taken to the hall. I looked up at my mother with eyes that were pleading for her to say that my sweet baby girl was ok. She just shook her head no and I started crying, holding onto my chart... being wheeled down the long halls to my room to wait for a doctor to confirm what I already knew. I sent my husband a text and said that I needed him there now. He was there within minutes. He walked in, sat next to me and I said, "We lost her"- he crumbled against me and we just cried. There is nothing to do at that moment except hold on to each other.

Later a doctor that I did not know was there to tell me that he would start induction about 7 that night. It was 1 in the afternoon. As a pregnant woman you fear labor...but you know that the pain is worth it because you have this precious child who is you. As a pregnant woman with a baby that has no heartbeat, you fear everything. I had to deliver her. We had to make funeral arrangements. We had to figure this out. I was in labor for 17 hours. My nurse was not kind. She was business. She had a dead baby to get out of me and then she could go home. I begged for an epidural. Contractions were two minutes apart and I finally got what I had been asking for. She wouldn't let me lean into her. ROUND YOUR BACK... I had no support. I was having a contraction and the nurse wouldn't let me hold onto her. I braced myself the best I could with my arms and rounded my back. I finally felt the medicine... I laid back on the bed and fell into a fog.

I remember my mother, my sister being there. My husband. This nurse who hated me. The doctor came in but didn't say much. I remember looking at my husband and telling him that I was falling off of the bed. Then the doctor checked me and said she was here. The baby had just come out, placenta and all... but I didn't know. I could see her head across the room on the table. Everyone was looking at my little girl but I couldn't see her or hold her. I remember saying let me hold her... but it must have been only in my head because then I was vomiting...  There were a hundred people in that room... the anesthesiologist was back. Why was he there?? Later I was told that I had experienced a seizure because the IV drip was too much. I had bottomed out. The nurse told my mother that it was normal. My MOTHER IS AN RN.... it is not normal for anyone to seize during delivery.

I willed myself awake. I could see this tiny pink bundle. There was a blanket trimmed in lace with butterflies on it. Swaddled among the folds was my Sweet Zoe Jane. She was so tiny that I couldn't believe it. Her fingers were perfect with little nails. Her toes and feet so tiny. She had long legs like her Daddy and she had his forehead. But on that face were my lips and my nose. She was beautiful. She was gorgeous. But she was not breathing. I wanted to breathe life into her for just a few seconds. I asked God to please let her move in my hands. I wanted to kiss her fingers and toes but I was scared that she would just fall apart if I did. I touched her. I felt all of this crazy love for this little bit of me wrapped in pink. There was my dream. My little girl. My heart. My Sweet Zoe Jane.