Mother's Day - A Story of Another Kind of Mother and Loss

This post is inspired by another blog post that I ran across on Facebook... messymiddle.com - an open letter to pastors a non mom speaks about mothers day

I want to take a moment to thank her for saying what other's may be afraid to say. While I'm sure the pastor didn't intentionally try to make anyone feel bad, it really does make you stop and think.

It reminded me of past mother's day's, and the bitterness that sometimes swept across me thinking that I thought I would have children by now, but life doesn't always work out as planned. Everyone that really knows me has told me what a good mom I would be, someday. It also reminded me of a Facebook post last year where a friend was wishing all the mother's out there a happy mother's day. I was being half smart-ass and half serious when I commented do fur babies count? I didn't think I would get a response, but I really didn't think I would get a straight out "No". It stung, not only because I think they do count, because to me they are my babies, but it was another harsh reminder that the thing I wanted most in my life I still hadn't gotten, and at the time I didn't see it happening anytime soon.

Taken at Munsinger Gardens, St. Cloud, MN Summer 2011

This mother's day hurt's even more. I wasn't planning on getting into this so early in my blog, but it has been a big part of my life in the past seven months, so why not get it out into the open. I haven't told a lot of people, but I don't really feel like it should feel like a big bad dark secret either. Those reading this that know me that haven't been told may have already figured it out, to other's this may come as a surprise.

DISCLAIMER: Parts of this post may be slightly graphic or disturbing for the squeamish, and you may need tissues.

Little did I know a couple months after mother's day I would get the surprise of my life, a positive pregnancy test. I never expected two pink lines to show up, nor did I expect the rush of emotions that followed, but life doesn't always turn out as expected. I was alone and scared, and the father was out of town. I made a lab appointment to confirm it was right and even unexpectedly broke down in tears when they told me it was. It was already planned that I was meeting him there for the weekend, but the next few day's I was a nervous wreck. I had just started my internship a couple weeks prior, and only had a few months left till graduation, but suddenly life was turned upside down.

The father ended up being super excited, he told everyone one he knew that was willing to listen. Me on the other hand, was taking my time. I guess I was afraid to get negative reactions, and needed a little more time to let it sink in myself. I wanted to tell people in person, and with being in the middle of my internship I didn't really have time, or the energy to hang out with people. I told a few here and there starting with who needed to know first. My mom was so excited she insisted I go to a garage sale of her co-workers with her and made me pick out a bunch of stuff. My boyfriend and I would browse baby sections and discuss things we were going to get, it was fun. Graduation came, and by then with the stress of all that gone, I was finally getting pretty excited, and a tiny bump, and started to branch out my announcements a little more.

Less than two weeks later, at almost fifteen weeks, my world got flipped upside down all over again. I was woken up at 4:30 in the morning in pain. I got up, used the restroom thinking it was just a full bladder. When I laid back down, that's when I realized my uterus was stiffening. I immediately woke up my boyfriend, he calmed me down and helped me make a doctor's appointment just to make sure everything was fine.

I arrived at the doctor, had an exam, and breathed a huge sigh of relief when I heard a normal heartbeat. The doctor found nothing wrong and I continued on with my day as normal. I stopped at the DMV and at my mom's to show her my new little bump then went home to make a late lunch. I threw in a pizza and went to use the restroom. My heart sunk, when I saw blood. It wasn't much, but after what happened that morning, I freaked. I called my boyfriend, called my mom, sobbing, and headed off to the emergency room. I was met at the entrance by my best friend and his girlfriend, my boyfriend had called them to make sure I wasn't alone since it would take him an hour to get there. My mom showed up right behind me, and my friends left since I wasn't alone anymore. Then it was a waiting game. Blood draws, exam's, and general poking and prodding commenced. Not to much later my boyfriend showed up just in time for an ultrasound. They got everything set up and I could feel everyone in the room holding their breath. Tears of joy, there on the screen was a tiny little heartbeat, my baby was still alive!

They ended up admitting me for observation to rule out appendicitis since they insisted I was showing signs of infection due to what they thought was a fever no matter how much I told them my temp normally runs a little high. I kept mentioning I was having what I was pretty sure were contractions, but with it being my first pregnancy they blew it off and treated me like I didn't know. I made it through a restless night of blood pressure and temperature checks, and was finally allowed to eat again. Half way through the day they decided to go ahead and sent me home and told me to be on bed rest for a few days. After one more normal baby heart rate check, I looked down at my belly and said with a smile, "hey look, I'm lopsided!" My little one was moving around and sitting off to one side pushing out. I'm not sure if he didn't like the doppler, or was just trying to be helpful. I wanted to take a picture of that moment, but told myself I would have plenty more chances to. I was hesitant to leave, and had a feeling there was something they weren't telling me, but figured they knew better than I did.

On the way out we rode the elevator down with a woman carrying a car seat, for some odd reason it made me want to cry. We passed the chapel and I considered telling the lady pushing me in the wheel chair that I wanted to stop, but told myself everything was going to be ok.

We decided to stay close to the hospital and went to my mom's about a mile away. I laid down, but was very restless. After an hour or so I noticed the pain had moved lower, I didn't know what to think of it, so I turned to my mom, and she had no answers for me either. Up until then I could feel flutters of the little one moving around still, so I was hoping everything was still fine. I figured I would send my boyfriend of to grab us some lunch and if the pain got worse we would go back in. This time I wanted to make sure to eat before I went in.

While he was gone I felt a pop and gush sensation, and called for my mom. She suggested maybe I had to go to the bathroom. When I got up I was in so much pain that it took me at least two minutes to get down the short hall. I finally made it to the bathroom, relaxed my muscles, and then called out "that didn't feel right". My mom burst into the bathroom, I stood up, and we both starred into the toilet for a moment. The water was pure red. My mom reached for a flashlight to get a better look and I said screw it, someone has to go in. The worst thing I could ever imagine happened in that moment. I reached into the cold water and gently grabbed what felt like a water balloon. When I pulled my hand out, there was my little one in my palm still encased in the little sack it had lived it's whole life in. The pop and gush I had felt was giving birth and blood, not my water breaking like I had thought. I screamed "oh god no!", and my mother began sobbing not knowing what to do. I immediately went into stay calm till the moment is right mode and told her get me a bucket and to call my boyfriend back who was still on a food run. I starred at the long and slender little fingers just like mine, afraid to look at any other part for fear I would see movement. I did not want to have to watch my baby die if it it wasn't already. I knew it was too late and I prayed that little soul had already passed. I gently placed baby in the bucket and handed it over to my mom so I could clean up and get dressed to go back to the emergency room. As she left the bathroom my boyfriend walked in the front door saw what was in the bucket and I finally broke down. All I could say was I'm sorry, I tried, we both (baby and I) fought it. My mom asked if we wanted to know what it was and we both said yes. "It's a boy". I asked her if she was sure and didn't mistake the umbilical cord for it she said she was sure and that there was "a stickie outie thing". It confirmed what I had felt he was ever since the ultrasound we had at eleven weeks and I just out of nowhere started calling him a he.

Back in the emergency room, the nurses were very kind and understanding, especially after they saw my little guy. My mom suggested we bury him with my grandpa and we agreed that was an excellent idea. My best friend brought me flowers and a teddy bear. We plan to give that teddy to our future child and telling them it's from their big brother in heaven. My mom took the little guy home with her until we could bury him and my boyfriend walked his mom out to her car. I gave birth to the placenta, pushing and all, received a bag of antibiotics and went home without my baby.

We Buried him with a piece of a blanket I had picked out at
 the garage sale with my mom. It say's "Daddy's Little Angel"

The following days, weeks, even months have been the hardest thing I've ever gone through, and I still have moments and days that are pretty difficult. I went through all the normal postpartum stuff, only without a baby to hold in my arms. All the hormonal changes, that caused me have to change my shirt 4 times throughout the night because I was drenched in sweat, and stuffing my bra with tissue to soak up the leaking milk, which hurt even more knowing that it was meant for my baby and he would never get to drink it. The day of his burial went better than I expected, I couldn't have asked for more other than to have him back. No one should ever have to bury their child, I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy.

I wasn't expecting this post to get so long since there are so many other details I haven't shared. Once you lose a child, every little detail of that child's life no matter how long or short, good or bad, becomes important to you. My hopes are that hopefully by sharing my story I can help at least one person either understand child loss a little more if they haven't experienced it, or help someone not feel so alone if they have, and that will make it worth it.

So to all you mother's out there no matter what kind, I wish you a happy, kind, and gentle mother's day! I feel like a mother, and I am a mother no matter what anyone says, and so are you!