Dear Andrew,
This video says it all really.
I love you.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Friday, September 27, 2013
Dear Andrew,
For some reason lately I've had trouble going to visit your grave. I want to go but something holds me back. I don't know if I suddenly feel as if you aren't there or the fact that you are always with me so what is the point of visiting one spot. I don't know why suddenly I feel dread going to visit your final resting place. I love where you are. I love all the toys and boxes and the fact that you are with other babies. When we went to visit your plot before you were buried we instantly knew it was where we would want you. It's colorful and so childlike while still maintaining a feeling of mourning. But I also have this feeling of horror every time I see your name on the headstone. It somehow makes it so real. It makes it more real than the fact we have your nursery still set up, pictures of you around our house, and stretch marks on my belly all proving that you were here. That you lived even if it was only for 41 weeks and a day. The headstone is a reminder that you aren't with us and we only got to spend a short time with you.
I see other parents up near your plot. Older parents who are probably grandparents at this point and it makes me so sad to think that fifty years from now you will still be gone and your father and I will be going to visit you. We will never be done with this grief until we meet again. And something about this feeling scares me. I always was able to get through hard times thinking that this hardship has to end at some point. But it won't end. We will forever remember you and what happened to you. We will forever hold you in our hearts until we meet again.
I hoe you love the box we made you. Your father built it and I painted it. I am forever adding little toys to it even though your father thinks I'm crazy for buying you little things every time I'm out. I always think of you....
For some reason lately I've had trouble going to visit your grave. I want to go but something holds me back. I don't know if I suddenly feel as if you aren't there or the fact that you are always with me so what is the point of visiting one spot. I don't know why suddenly I feel dread going to visit your final resting place. I love where you are. I love all the toys and boxes and the fact that you are with other babies. When we went to visit your plot before you were buried we instantly knew it was where we would want you. It's colorful and so childlike while still maintaining a feeling of mourning. But I also have this feeling of horror every time I see your name on the headstone. It somehow makes it so real. It makes it more real than the fact we have your nursery still set up, pictures of you around our house, and stretch marks on my belly all proving that you were here. That you lived even if it was only for 41 weeks and a day. The headstone is a reminder that you aren't with us and we only got to spend a short time with you.
I see other parents up near your plot. Older parents who are probably grandparents at this point and it makes me so sad to think that fifty years from now you will still be gone and your father and I will be going to visit you. We will never be done with this grief until we meet again. And something about this feeling scares me. I always was able to get through hard times thinking that this hardship has to end at some point. But it won't end. We will forever remember you and what happened to you. We will forever hold you in our hearts until we meet again.
I hoe you love the box we made you. Your father built it and I painted it. I am forever adding little toys to it even though your father thinks I'm crazy for buying you little things every time I'm out. I always think of you....
Monday, September 23, 2013
Dear Andrew,
This weekend we went to get your foot prints and hand prints framed. It's something I've wanted to do but haven't found a place that would do what we wanted. We finally found the man this weekend. He looked at your picture and commented on what a beautiful baby you were. He asked us how old you were. We told him you were three months old and he commented on how we must have had some sleepless nights over the past few months. We just nodded and agreed. I wanted to scream we have had sleepless nights but not in the way you are thinking. This happens a lot...I want to tell anyone your story. It's my way of keeping you alive and proving that you lived. I lie awake at night thinking about how you should be three and a half months old at this point. We should have little smiles and cuddles and dirty diapers. Instead your room is just getting dusty and everything lies around unused. I think about what you would be like at three months. I think you'd have some little curls like you did when you were born and big eyes. I never saw your eyes and I always wonder if you had mine or your fathers. I think I'll always do this for the rest of my life...imagine where you should be at that point in my life and what you would look like. I know no matter what the future brings I will love you and miss you for the rest of my life, my precious little baby.
This weekend we went to get your foot prints and hand prints framed. It's something I've wanted to do but haven't found a place that would do what we wanted. We finally found the man this weekend. He looked at your picture and commented on what a beautiful baby you were. He asked us how old you were. We told him you were three months old and he commented on how we must have had some sleepless nights over the past few months. We just nodded and agreed. I wanted to scream we have had sleepless nights but not in the way you are thinking. This happens a lot...I want to tell anyone your story. It's my way of keeping you alive and proving that you lived. I lie awake at night thinking about how you should be three and a half months old at this point. We should have little smiles and cuddles and dirty diapers. Instead your room is just getting dusty and everything lies around unused. I think about what you would be like at three months. I think you'd have some little curls like you did when you were born and big eyes. I never saw your eyes and I always wonder if you had mine or your fathers. I think I'll always do this for the rest of my life...imagine where you should be at that point in my life and what you would look like. I know no matter what the future brings I will love you and miss you for the rest of my life, my precious little baby.
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Dear Andrew,
I miss you. This week has been extremely hard for some reason. All I can think about is how you should be here. How you should be three months old and how we are never going to get to experience anything else with you. My heart is broken without you. It seems so unfair that everyone gets to have happy, healthy babies that are alive and we are left with only a memory of you. I see so many women with new babies walking around. These babies with their cute chubby cheeks and rosy complexions. I can't help but stare in jealousy even though it makes me feel so much worse and brings tears to my eyes every single time. (Thank God for dark sunglasses otherwise I'd be the crazy lady in the street crying.) Why couldn't that be you? I don't understand why I didn't get to keep you. Why did you have to die? I did everything I could to make sure you got here safely and it still didn't matter. Now all I am left with are questions and a feeling that I've been cheated. A feeling that seems to be growing stronger rather than weaker and an anger that I have nowhere to direct. No one did anything wrong. No doctors missed anything. You just rolled yourself up in your cord and chocked. So I guess a little bit of me is mad at you. I know you were just a baby and it was there. But why couldn't you leave it alone? You were so close to the finish line. So close to meeting us and becoming a family. Instead, you wrapped yourself in your cord and died inside me and for that I am mad at you. I know it doesn't make sense but for now I'm mad at you and I miss you and I love you.
I miss you. This week has been extremely hard for some reason. All I can think about is how you should be here. How you should be three months old and how we are never going to get to experience anything else with you. My heart is broken without you. It seems so unfair that everyone gets to have happy, healthy babies that are alive and we are left with only a memory of you. I see so many women with new babies walking around. These babies with their cute chubby cheeks and rosy complexions. I can't help but stare in jealousy even though it makes me feel so much worse and brings tears to my eyes every single time. (Thank God for dark sunglasses otherwise I'd be the crazy lady in the street crying.) Why couldn't that be you? I don't understand why I didn't get to keep you. Why did you have to die? I did everything I could to make sure you got here safely and it still didn't matter. Now all I am left with are questions and a feeling that I've been cheated. A feeling that seems to be growing stronger rather than weaker and an anger that I have nowhere to direct. No one did anything wrong. No doctors missed anything. You just rolled yourself up in your cord and chocked. So I guess a little bit of me is mad at you. I know you were just a baby and it was there. But why couldn't you leave it alone? You were so close to the finish line. So close to meeting us and becoming a family. Instead, you wrapped yourself in your cord and died inside me and for that I am mad at you. I know it doesn't make sense but for now I'm mad at you and I miss you and I love you.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Dear Andrew,
I've been trying to write your birth story down for months. People keep telling me I should write it down before I forget things but I think I've already started forgetting. I fear that if it wasn't for the pictures we have of you that I wouldn't remember you. That scares me to death and so I am going to start writing before I forget anymore.
Let me start by saying I loved you from the day you were conceived. Actually I loved you before I even knew you were a possibility. You were wanted and you were loved and I still love you no matter where you are in the world.
So, here we go....
On June 6th 2013 we went in for our 41 week appointment. The wait was a lot longer than usual. I think we were there nearly three hours and your dad really had to get to work. When my name was finally called we discovered the cause of the delay. They were letting the doctors in training check the moms-to-be. I will never forget that girls face. She was nice enough but seemed very unsure of herself. While we were waiting for my doctor to come in I mentioned to her that I was very cautious about counting your kicks. And her response was that I had nothing to worry about. She said at this point when you are 41 weeks that the chance of anything happening to the baby is practically non-existent and I should relax. I listened to her, relaxed a little bit and I will blame myself and her for that for the rest of my life.
The rest of that appointment was unremarkable. You had a strong heartbeat, plenty of fluid, and the placenta was nice and strong. We were scheduled to come in a few days later for another check and then an induction. We had nothing to worry about. We would be holding you within a week whether you were ready to come or not. I was excited and scared. I'd never been through labor and I'd never been comfortable around tiny babies. We were going to be responsible for a person! Your father and I joked about it the whole way home as people who are both nervous and excited do. Your father headed off to work and I went to lie down as carrying you around was exhausting!
When I went to lie down you kicked like crazy. It stuck in mind because I had never felt you kick like that before and I thought you were going a little crazy. I took a nap and hung out around the house. I think this is when you died.
Friday rolled around and I headed into town and went for a walk. You were very quiet but that was normal for you. You would go a whole day without really kicking which is why you made me so paranoid about kick counts. I remember for your 26 week ultra sound I ate a gigantic chocolate muffin and a coffee and you still refused to move around while the technician prodded you and pushed your bony little butt. We even have a picture from the scan where it looks like you are yelling at her for interrupting your sleep. So needless to say this wasn't out of character. Deep down though I knew something was wrong. I went home in the afternoon and put frozen peas on my belly to try and get you to move but no luck. I gave myself until 8 o'clock that night to feel you move or I was heading to the hospital. Around 7:30 I felt you move and once again told myself that you were ok.
That night I went to bed around 12. As soon as I got into bed I felt a sensation I don't know how to describe. I knew my water broke but I didn't think I had peed myself as many women describe. It was almost like a popping sensation and I just knew. I called your dad on my phone even though he was in the other room. He was so confused because I was yelling at him that I needed a towel. He still didn't understand so I told him my water had broke. He ran to get a towel and I ran to the bathroom with it. There was a lot of water and I knew from my antenatal classes that we had to go to the hospital to get checked out. I nervously fixed my make-up, cleaned up a little, and called your grandmother to let her know you were coming! Your dad and I headed over to the hospital joking that we weren't coming back without a baby.
As we walked to the hospital more water just kept coming out. No one told me so much water would come out. We arrived at the hospital and were told we would have to wait to be seen as six others had arrived right before us. There was another couple with us and the woman was in labor. I had slight contractions but nothing serious. However, every time one happened more water would come out of me. I had brought our Christmas towels with us and was putting them on the floor to try and catch the water. I was so embarrassed!
We were finally told we could go upstairs. A woman took our insurance information and we signed some forms and then were sent to the ward so the midwife could examine me. This is where your story gets bad and makes me feel physically sick every time I think of it. This is the part that haunts my dreams and keeps up at night.
Once on the ward we had to wait a little longer. At this point I was looking at the water and noticed it was tinged slightly green. I hadn't noticed this at home or in the lobby of the hospital and I looked over at your dad and said something is wrong. I knew from our antenatal class it was meconium and that meant the baby was distressed. Your dad said not to worry that I was being paranoid and everything would be ok. The midwife saw the color and asked me to get some in a cup so they could look at it. I put some in a cup and was led to a bed so they could check on you. The midwife was very young and was having trouble finding a heartbeat but she was pushing you around and said she felt you move. I think she was just so scared she was trying to give me some hope. A second midwife came over and she couldn't find your heartbeat either. This was when I knew something was wrong. Your father and I were exchanging glances just hopping that they would find your heartbeat and this was just a scare. The midwives ran off to get a doctor and at this point it was 1:30 in the morning on the 8th of June. We were in a ward of people sleeping and snoring while the doctor rolled in a machine to scan you. She turned it on and waited what felt like forever before she said I'm sorry but there is no heartbeat. She said she had to bring us downstairs to check on a better ultrasound machine but that you were no longer with us.
My world collapsed at this point and I went into shock. How did this happen? How can the world be so cruel?
We were brought into a room on a different floor while they turned on a more powerful ultrasound machine. But we knew the answer at this point. They scanned you and showed up where your heartbeat should be and once again, the doctor said I'm sorry but there is no heartbeat. They could have said other things but I was so shocked I don't remember much. I know neither of us cried at that point. I had tears running down my face but nothing like what would come in the months after your death. They then told us we would have to go home because I wasn't in labor. They gave us a card with a number to call if I started getting contractions but that if I didn't I could come in Sunday for an induction. We numbly took the card, gathered our bags and headed home.
The walk home was silent. There was no joking. No laughter. No hope. Just silence.
There is a tunnel that we have to walk through to get home that echoes if you are talking in it. Your dad always used to make funny noises in it on the way to your appointments. I guess it amused him but he didn't do it the night we went home and he has never done it since. I think a part of him died that night with you. I know a part of me died with you.
We got home and I put all of your things away. We had pictures of you up on the mantle, a blue bin full of diapers and wipes, and another basket of bottles and pumps. I put everything in your room and closed the door.
Your dad didn't know what to do. We decided to go for a walk. So on a early Saturday morning in Dublin your 9 month plus pregnant mother and father went for a walk in the city. We didn't go far but it seemed so strange to see the city continuing on as normal at 3 am on a Saturday morning while our world had just collapsed.
We headed home and decided we had to make some phone calls to our parents. I called your grandparents in Indiana who were so excited for your arrival. You were the first grandchild in the family and we all had so many hopes for you. I remember calling them and my mom answered. She was very excited since she knew we had gone to the hospital. Then I broke the news and told her you had died. I will never forget her cry. She just cried no and I could hear my dad in the background asking what had happened. He asked that so many times while we talked. Eventually I got off the phone with them and we rang your dad's parents. They were just as shocked and your dad's mother just kept saying she was so sorry. Everyone was in pain and no one knew what to do...including us.
Eventually around 4 am your father said we should get some rest. Rest?!?!? How was I going to get any sleep knowing this had happened. But I got into bed. This is when the contractions started. There was no way I was going to sleep and just wandered around the house. My phone started ringing again and it was my parents. They had been so shocked by the phone call they hadn't known what to say so they called back once they realized what had happened. I talked to them some more but I can't for the life of me remember any of the conversation.
Around 7 am the contractions were pretty strong so I unpacked my hospital bags and took out everything that we would have needed for you if you were alive. I repacked the bags with what I would need and an outfit and diaper for you. Your father called the hospital and we headed back there. They checked to see if I was dilated and I wasn't so they put us in a private room until I was in actual labor. They kept pushing us to do another ultrasound. We had already had two and knew what had happened. We didn't want to see it again. Thankfully your father took the doctor outside and let them know in no uncertain terms that it wouldn't be happening. I would have just given in but he stood up for us and for that I was thankful. We didn't see that doctor for the rest of our stay.
By noon the contractions were strong and painful. They were continuous and I was in constant pain. I felt like I was going to throw up so your dad got the nurse and she came in to check on me. At that point I was 5 cm dilated. I couldn't believe they let me stay in that much paid and get that dilated without any sort of medication. I wanted an epidural! I couldn't understand why I had to go through all this pain when I was getting the reward at the end.
They took us to the labor suite and I got an epidural. It was bliss. I could actually sleep and wasn't in constant pain. For the next six hours I slept on and off. We had the strangest midwife who kept kissing me the whole time I was there. I know you didn't spend much time with us but if you had you would know that things like that freak us out! I just kept thinking why is this lady kissing me? And why does the other midwife had loads of hair on her face? It's like I couldn't get my mind around the huge life changing event that was happening so instead I focused on these trivial things to keep me sane.
At one point a man came in. I am guessing he was an important doctor. He had that air about him. He told us he was sorry for our loss and asked some questions about when I had last felt you kick. He wanted to know when we had last been in. Once he got his answers he left and was never seen in our room again. It seemed so odd at the time and still does.
Your father called my parents to give them updates while they tried to organize a flight to get over here as soon as possible. I can't imagine how hard it was for him during this time. Every time I woke up he was sitting there looking so sad and helpless. I kept trying to smile at him to let him know I was all right but I don't think it made it any easier for him and that broke my heart even more. I always loved your father but I fell so much more in love with him while going through this experience. He is a tough man but so loving and gentle with me. He would have been a great father to you.
Sometime in the afternoon the midwives let us know my parents were there. But it wasn't possible...they were still in Indiana. Your dad and I were so confused so he went out. It was his parents. They had driven up from Cork and your grandmother had forced her way up to the floor. You have to give her points for her pushiness! No one was going to say no to her. She had to be there and that was that. They put them in our private room while we waited to meet you and she plainly told the midwives she wasn't going anywhere. They describes your grandmother to a tee right there. She will do anything for her family and I feel bad for anyone who gets in her way.
At 6 pm they told me I was fully dilated. I was so tired but I didn't want to push so they let me rest for another hour. At 7pm the midwife came in and told me it was time. I was very shaky at this point which is normal as my body was in labor but I just couldn't feel it. I started pushing and pushing and pushing. Your father looked over and could see your head poking out! For some reason I found this hilarious since he told me he would never look down there during deliver. And I told him so while I was trying to push you out. The midwife didn't think it was funny that I was talking while pushing but I didn't really care! I think I was delirious at this point from exhaustion and shock. At 7:23 pm on the 8th of June 2013 you came into this world. You were 8 pounds and 15 ounces. You were silent and perfect and blue with bright red lips. Your father saw the cord was wrapped twice around your neck and the midwife told me there was nothing I could have done to save you. This didn't make me feel any better
They showed you to me and then cleaned and dressed you. We put you in the cardigan that your dad's mom knit for you and a hat that was way too big for your head. I held you and couldn't believe how perfect you were. I couldn't believe your father and I had made something so perfect. You had ten fingers and ten toes. You had dark curly hair and the cutest little nose and ears I have every seen. You were so soft and cuddly and I never wanted to let you go. I never should have had to let you go.
Your father and I spend some time with you. Your grandparents came in to meet you. Everyone marveled over how perfect you were and everyone cried together. It was the happiest day of my life because I got to meet you and the saddest day of my life because we were also saying goodbye to you.
Eventually they brought us back to our private room to spend time with you as a family. Your father slept on the floor, I slept on the bed, and you slept in your cot. I remember just lying in bed staring at you in your cot. You were finally here but it was the saddest way I could ever think to meet you. At some point in the night I became hysterical. Your father just held my hand while I cried and stared at you. Your face was starting to look bruised and it was becoming obvious that you weren't ever waking up no matter how much I willed it.
We left you the next day. We took all your little finger prints and handprints. We cut some of your hair. We hugged you and kissed you and then we went home. I couldn't stay there anymore and I'm so sorry that we left you. We should have spent more time with you but it was too hard at the time. So we went home. I opened the door to your nursery and reorganized your room. I had just spend all those hours in labor and gave birth to you. I wasn't going to shut you away like you had never existed.
My parents arrived that day. My dad cried and I had never seen him cry before. You had that affect on everyone in the family. Everyone loved you and was so excited for you. When you died some of the hope and happiness in our family died with you.
We went to see you in the chapel at the hospital on Monday and on Wednesday. Everyone got to hold you and meet you this time. They had your postmortem on the Tuesday and we buried you on the Thursday. Your uncle and God father flew out from Boston to see you. There were a lot of family members there to say goodbye to you.
We buried you with the book I read to you while you were growing (I'll Love You Forever), a little baseball cap, the knit sweater and knit blanket your dad's mom made you, the blanket my mom sent you, the rattle my mom sent you, and the monkey pajamas that I was so excited to put you in. They were for babies that were three months old and they fit you perfectly! I couldn't believe it. I guess you weren't fitting into any newborn clothing. We had a little ceremony in the chapel on the Thursday and then drove you to Glasnevin Cemetery. When we were there everyone said a little bit about you. Both of my parents had lovely things to say about you and there were a lot of tears. I had written mine earlier and somehow had the strength to get through it. Once we were done they lowered your into the ground and started covering the coffin. This was the breaking point for me and the tears started flowing.
I would say this is where your story ends but it doesn't really, does it? Everyday since then I have thought about you, I have cried for you, and I have spoken to you. So while this part of the story is over I like to think that somehow you are somewhere around helping us through this incredibly difficult time.
I'll love you forever, I'll love your for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be.
I've been trying to write your birth story down for months. People keep telling me I should write it down before I forget things but I think I've already started forgetting. I fear that if it wasn't for the pictures we have of you that I wouldn't remember you. That scares me to death and so I am going to start writing before I forget anymore.
Let me start by saying I loved you from the day you were conceived. Actually I loved you before I even knew you were a possibility. You were wanted and you were loved and I still love you no matter where you are in the world.
So, here we go....
On June 6th 2013 we went in for our 41 week appointment. The wait was a lot longer than usual. I think we were there nearly three hours and your dad really had to get to work. When my name was finally called we discovered the cause of the delay. They were letting the doctors in training check the moms-to-be. I will never forget that girls face. She was nice enough but seemed very unsure of herself. While we were waiting for my doctor to come in I mentioned to her that I was very cautious about counting your kicks. And her response was that I had nothing to worry about. She said at this point when you are 41 weeks that the chance of anything happening to the baby is practically non-existent and I should relax. I listened to her, relaxed a little bit and I will blame myself and her for that for the rest of my life.
The rest of that appointment was unremarkable. You had a strong heartbeat, plenty of fluid, and the placenta was nice and strong. We were scheduled to come in a few days later for another check and then an induction. We had nothing to worry about. We would be holding you within a week whether you were ready to come or not. I was excited and scared. I'd never been through labor and I'd never been comfortable around tiny babies. We were going to be responsible for a person! Your father and I joked about it the whole way home as people who are both nervous and excited do. Your father headed off to work and I went to lie down as carrying you around was exhausting!
When I went to lie down you kicked like crazy. It stuck in mind because I had never felt you kick like that before and I thought you were going a little crazy. I took a nap and hung out around the house. I think this is when you died.
Friday rolled around and I headed into town and went for a walk. You were very quiet but that was normal for you. You would go a whole day without really kicking which is why you made me so paranoid about kick counts. I remember for your 26 week ultra sound I ate a gigantic chocolate muffin and a coffee and you still refused to move around while the technician prodded you and pushed your bony little butt. We even have a picture from the scan where it looks like you are yelling at her for interrupting your sleep. So needless to say this wasn't out of character. Deep down though I knew something was wrong. I went home in the afternoon and put frozen peas on my belly to try and get you to move but no luck. I gave myself until 8 o'clock that night to feel you move or I was heading to the hospital. Around 7:30 I felt you move and once again told myself that you were ok.
That night I went to bed around 12. As soon as I got into bed I felt a sensation I don't know how to describe. I knew my water broke but I didn't think I had peed myself as many women describe. It was almost like a popping sensation and I just knew. I called your dad on my phone even though he was in the other room. He was so confused because I was yelling at him that I needed a towel. He still didn't understand so I told him my water had broke. He ran to get a towel and I ran to the bathroom with it. There was a lot of water and I knew from my antenatal classes that we had to go to the hospital to get checked out. I nervously fixed my make-up, cleaned up a little, and called your grandmother to let her know you were coming! Your dad and I headed over to the hospital joking that we weren't coming back without a baby.
As we walked to the hospital more water just kept coming out. No one told me so much water would come out. We arrived at the hospital and were told we would have to wait to be seen as six others had arrived right before us. There was another couple with us and the woman was in labor. I had slight contractions but nothing serious. However, every time one happened more water would come out of me. I had brought our Christmas towels with us and was putting them on the floor to try and catch the water. I was so embarrassed!
We were finally told we could go upstairs. A woman took our insurance information and we signed some forms and then were sent to the ward so the midwife could examine me. This is where your story gets bad and makes me feel physically sick every time I think of it. This is the part that haunts my dreams and keeps up at night.
Once on the ward we had to wait a little longer. At this point I was looking at the water and noticed it was tinged slightly green. I hadn't noticed this at home or in the lobby of the hospital and I looked over at your dad and said something is wrong. I knew from our antenatal class it was meconium and that meant the baby was distressed. Your dad said not to worry that I was being paranoid and everything would be ok. The midwife saw the color and asked me to get some in a cup so they could look at it. I put some in a cup and was led to a bed so they could check on you. The midwife was very young and was having trouble finding a heartbeat but she was pushing you around and said she felt you move. I think she was just so scared she was trying to give me some hope. A second midwife came over and she couldn't find your heartbeat either. This was when I knew something was wrong. Your father and I were exchanging glances just hopping that they would find your heartbeat and this was just a scare. The midwives ran off to get a doctor and at this point it was 1:30 in the morning on the 8th of June. We were in a ward of people sleeping and snoring while the doctor rolled in a machine to scan you. She turned it on and waited what felt like forever before she said I'm sorry but there is no heartbeat. She said she had to bring us downstairs to check on a better ultrasound machine but that you were no longer with us.
My world collapsed at this point and I went into shock. How did this happen? How can the world be so cruel?
We were brought into a room on a different floor while they turned on a more powerful ultrasound machine. But we knew the answer at this point. They scanned you and showed up where your heartbeat should be and once again, the doctor said I'm sorry but there is no heartbeat. They could have said other things but I was so shocked I don't remember much. I know neither of us cried at that point. I had tears running down my face but nothing like what would come in the months after your death. They then told us we would have to go home because I wasn't in labor. They gave us a card with a number to call if I started getting contractions but that if I didn't I could come in Sunday for an induction. We numbly took the card, gathered our bags and headed home.
The walk home was silent. There was no joking. No laughter. No hope. Just silence.
There is a tunnel that we have to walk through to get home that echoes if you are talking in it. Your dad always used to make funny noises in it on the way to your appointments. I guess it amused him but he didn't do it the night we went home and he has never done it since. I think a part of him died that night with you. I know a part of me died with you.
We got home and I put all of your things away. We had pictures of you up on the mantle, a blue bin full of diapers and wipes, and another basket of bottles and pumps. I put everything in your room and closed the door.
Your dad didn't know what to do. We decided to go for a walk. So on a early Saturday morning in Dublin your 9 month plus pregnant mother and father went for a walk in the city. We didn't go far but it seemed so strange to see the city continuing on as normal at 3 am on a Saturday morning while our world had just collapsed.
We headed home and decided we had to make some phone calls to our parents. I called your grandparents in Indiana who were so excited for your arrival. You were the first grandchild in the family and we all had so many hopes for you. I remember calling them and my mom answered. She was very excited since she knew we had gone to the hospital. Then I broke the news and told her you had died. I will never forget her cry. She just cried no and I could hear my dad in the background asking what had happened. He asked that so many times while we talked. Eventually I got off the phone with them and we rang your dad's parents. They were just as shocked and your dad's mother just kept saying she was so sorry. Everyone was in pain and no one knew what to do...including us.
Eventually around 4 am your father said we should get some rest. Rest?!?!? How was I going to get any sleep knowing this had happened. But I got into bed. This is when the contractions started. There was no way I was going to sleep and just wandered around the house. My phone started ringing again and it was my parents. They had been so shocked by the phone call they hadn't known what to say so they called back once they realized what had happened. I talked to them some more but I can't for the life of me remember any of the conversation.
Around 7 am the contractions were pretty strong so I unpacked my hospital bags and took out everything that we would have needed for you if you were alive. I repacked the bags with what I would need and an outfit and diaper for you. Your father called the hospital and we headed back there. They checked to see if I was dilated and I wasn't so they put us in a private room until I was in actual labor. They kept pushing us to do another ultrasound. We had already had two and knew what had happened. We didn't want to see it again. Thankfully your father took the doctor outside and let them know in no uncertain terms that it wouldn't be happening. I would have just given in but he stood up for us and for that I was thankful. We didn't see that doctor for the rest of our stay.
By noon the contractions were strong and painful. They were continuous and I was in constant pain. I felt like I was going to throw up so your dad got the nurse and she came in to check on me. At that point I was 5 cm dilated. I couldn't believe they let me stay in that much paid and get that dilated without any sort of medication. I wanted an epidural! I couldn't understand why I had to go through all this pain when I was getting the reward at the end.
They took us to the labor suite and I got an epidural. It was bliss. I could actually sleep and wasn't in constant pain. For the next six hours I slept on and off. We had the strangest midwife who kept kissing me the whole time I was there. I know you didn't spend much time with us but if you had you would know that things like that freak us out! I just kept thinking why is this lady kissing me? And why does the other midwife had loads of hair on her face? It's like I couldn't get my mind around the huge life changing event that was happening so instead I focused on these trivial things to keep me sane.
At one point a man came in. I am guessing he was an important doctor. He had that air about him. He told us he was sorry for our loss and asked some questions about when I had last felt you kick. He wanted to know when we had last been in. Once he got his answers he left and was never seen in our room again. It seemed so odd at the time and still does.
Your father called my parents to give them updates while they tried to organize a flight to get over here as soon as possible. I can't imagine how hard it was for him during this time. Every time I woke up he was sitting there looking so sad and helpless. I kept trying to smile at him to let him know I was all right but I don't think it made it any easier for him and that broke my heart even more. I always loved your father but I fell so much more in love with him while going through this experience. He is a tough man but so loving and gentle with me. He would have been a great father to you.
Sometime in the afternoon the midwives let us know my parents were there. But it wasn't possible...they were still in Indiana. Your dad and I were so confused so he went out. It was his parents. They had driven up from Cork and your grandmother had forced her way up to the floor. You have to give her points for her pushiness! No one was going to say no to her. She had to be there and that was that. They put them in our private room while we waited to meet you and she plainly told the midwives she wasn't going anywhere. They describes your grandmother to a tee right there. She will do anything for her family and I feel bad for anyone who gets in her way.
At 6 pm they told me I was fully dilated. I was so tired but I didn't want to push so they let me rest for another hour. At 7pm the midwife came in and told me it was time. I was very shaky at this point which is normal as my body was in labor but I just couldn't feel it. I started pushing and pushing and pushing. Your father looked over and could see your head poking out! For some reason I found this hilarious since he told me he would never look down there during deliver. And I told him so while I was trying to push you out. The midwife didn't think it was funny that I was talking while pushing but I didn't really care! I think I was delirious at this point from exhaustion and shock. At 7:23 pm on the 8th of June 2013 you came into this world. You were 8 pounds and 15 ounces. You were silent and perfect and blue with bright red lips. Your father saw the cord was wrapped twice around your neck and the midwife told me there was nothing I could have done to save you. This didn't make me feel any better
They showed you to me and then cleaned and dressed you. We put you in the cardigan that your dad's mom knit for you and a hat that was way too big for your head. I held you and couldn't believe how perfect you were. I couldn't believe your father and I had made something so perfect. You had ten fingers and ten toes. You had dark curly hair and the cutest little nose and ears I have every seen. You were so soft and cuddly and I never wanted to let you go. I never should have had to let you go.
Your father and I spend some time with you. Your grandparents came in to meet you. Everyone marveled over how perfect you were and everyone cried together. It was the happiest day of my life because I got to meet you and the saddest day of my life because we were also saying goodbye to you.
Eventually they brought us back to our private room to spend time with you as a family. Your father slept on the floor, I slept on the bed, and you slept in your cot. I remember just lying in bed staring at you in your cot. You were finally here but it was the saddest way I could ever think to meet you. At some point in the night I became hysterical. Your father just held my hand while I cried and stared at you. Your face was starting to look bruised and it was becoming obvious that you weren't ever waking up no matter how much I willed it.
We left you the next day. We took all your little finger prints and handprints. We cut some of your hair. We hugged you and kissed you and then we went home. I couldn't stay there anymore and I'm so sorry that we left you. We should have spent more time with you but it was too hard at the time. So we went home. I opened the door to your nursery and reorganized your room. I had just spend all those hours in labor and gave birth to you. I wasn't going to shut you away like you had never existed.
My parents arrived that day. My dad cried and I had never seen him cry before. You had that affect on everyone in the family. Everyone loved you and was so excited for you. When you died some of the hope and happiness in our family died with you.
We went to see you in the chapel at the hospital on Monday and on Wednesday. Everyone got to hold you and meet you this time. They had your postmortem on the Tuesday and we buried you on the Thursday. Your uncle and God father flew out from Boston to see you. There were a lot of family members there to say goodbye to you.
We buried you with the book I read to you while you were growing (I'll Love You Forever), a little baseball cap, the knit sweater and knit blanket your dad's mom made you, the blanket my mom sent you, the rattle my mom sent you, and the monkey pajamas that I was so excited to put you in. They were for babies that were three months old and they fit you perfectly! I couldn't believe it. I guess you weren't fitting into any newborn clothing. We had a little ceremony in the chapel on the Thursday and then drove you to Glasnevin Cemetery. When we were there everyone said a little bit about you. Both of my parents had lovely things to say about you and there were a lot of tears. I had written mine earlier and somehow had the strength to get through it. Once we were done they lowered your into the ground and started covering the coffin. This was the breaking point for me and the tears started flowing.
I would say this is where your story ends but it doesn't really, does it? Everyday since then I have thought about you, I have cried for you, and I have spoken to you. So while this part of the story is over I like to think that somehow you are somewhere around helping us through this incredibly difficult time.
I'll love you forever, I'll love your for always, as long as I'm living my baby you'll be.
Dear Andrew,
Today I finished your baby book.
I finished it.
This book was supposed to hold your first year of life. It was supposed to be an ongoing work in progress documenting your life. All of the pictures I was going to take of you growing up, all of the milestones you were supposed to achieve, and all the smiles the three of us would share. Instead, I'm left with a baby book that is only half full and all of the pictures are full of tears and sadness. There is nothing more to add and there never will be and it breaks my heart.
I love you, baby.
Today I finished your baby book.
I finished it.
This book was supposed to hold your first year of life. It was supposed to be an ongoing work in progress documenting your life. All of the pictures I was going to take of you growing up, all of the milestones you were supposed to achieve, and all the smiles the three of us would share. Instead, I'm left with a baby book that is only half full and all of the pictures are full of tears and sadness. There is nothing more to add and there never will be and it breaks my heart.
I love you, baby.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Sunday, September 1, 2013
Dear Andrew,
I can't believe I don't get to see your beautiful little face again. Those perfect little ears, soft skin, and full head of hair. You were more beautiful than I ever imagined. I didn't know your father and I could create something so beautiful and perfect. We went to print your pictures the other day and the woman commented about what a beautiful baby you were. Our response wasn't enthusiastic and I think it confused her. Aren't parents supposed to be excited about their newborns? Aren't parents supposed to be beaming with pride when people compliment their babies? But all we can feel is sadness and an emptiness where you should be. Sad that we aren't going to watch you grow up. Sad that we will never hear your first word. Sad that you are only part of life through our memories of the short time we had with you. Our house is so empty without you. Your room is gathering dust and all of your little clothes are sitting unused. And all I can do is imagine what life would have been like if you had lived. I spend a lot of time thinking about that but I suppose it's fitting because it's what I did when you are alive and kicking inside me. I imagined a life that was full of happiness not a life that was full of tears. Now I imagine what could have and should have been rather than what is now our reality.
I miss you.
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I can't believe I don't get to see your beautiful little face again. Those perfect little ears, soft skin, and full head of hair. You were more beautiful than I ever imagined. I didn't know your father and I could create something so beautiful and perfect. We went to print your pictures the other day and the woman commented about what a beautiful baby you were. Our response wasn't enthusiastic and I think it confused her. Aren't parents supposed to be excited about their newborns? Aren't parents supposed to be beaming with pride when people compliment their babies? But all we can feel is sadness and an emptiness where you should be. Sad that we aren't going to watch you grow up. Sad that we will never hear your first word. Sad that you are only part of life through our memories of the short time we had with you. Our house is so empty without you. Your room is gathering dust and all of your little clothes are sitting unused. And all I can do is imagine what life would have been like if you had lived. I spend a lot of time thinking about that but I suppose it's fitting because it's what I did when you are alive and kicking inside me. I imagined a life that was full of happiness not a life that was full of tears. Now I imagine what could have and should have been rather than what is now our reality.
I miss you.
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