Days Following My Loss

The days that followed were horrible.  People were afraid to leave me alone and I was constantly feeling overwhelmed.  I felt like I had to put on a front and pretend that things were "ok" when I was breaking inside.  I tried to busy myself in doing things for Olivia and did my best to take care of my son.  My nights were sleepless and filled with tears.  My mind would just run in circles around the "whys" and "what-ifs."  I was exhausted.

I managed to get out of the house and go to the craft store to buy things to make a shadowbox and a scrapbook.  I completed the shadowbox on March 16th and was so happy with it.  I put the hat that she wore at the hospital, the blanket she was swaddled in, and the stuffed butterfly we bought for her in the box, along with a duplicate of the outfit she wore and her hospital bracelet.  Every time I look at it I smile.  The scrapbook will be a work in progress for some time I am sure.

March 16th is also the day that we were able to pick up Olivia's cremains.  It was a bittersweet moment, picking up her cremains.  I was so relieved to have her back with us, even if the circumstances were far from ideal.  I kept wishing that we were going to pick her up from her Grammy's after a long weekend apart, but who was I kidding!  Myself?  Having her home gave me an odd sense of peace.  I was able to relax just enough to realize that I needed to stop beating myself up over something that was so far outside of my control.  I did everything that I could have for my daughter and would have done more if I could have.  It was the first night I got any amount of sleep, and it wasn't much!

So, to summarize, the first week after my loss I was never left alone.  There was always some family member at my house making sure that I was ok.  I wasn't ok, I felt like I was never going to be ok.  I felt trapped in my own house and just wanted to be left alone.  I was tired of hiding my true feelings and I was tired of stepping on someone's toes.  After all, I was the one whose child died, why should I be so concerned about what other people were thinking or feeling.  I guess I didn't want to scare them.  I didn't want anyone else to feel the pain I was feeling.

Week two was scary at first.  I was terrified to be home alone with my son.  What if I broke down and was unable to take care of him?  What if I couldn't pull myself together if he really needed me?  Well, being home alone with my son was exactly what I needed.  He was a great distraction.  He kept me busy and made me smile.  When he napped I had the time I needed to break down and feel everything I had been holding in for the last week.  My first few break downs were intense.  I cried so long and hard that at the end of it I had nothing left!  It felt refreshing to do just that.  When my husband got home he would take our son so that I could work on Olivia's scrapbook.  It was a very therapeutic week for me.

To Olivia:  My dearest little Olivia, I love you with all of my heart, you are my daughter, and you will always be in my heart!

Empty Arms

When I thought about everything in my head I thought that hearing that our daughter had no heart beat would be the worst day of my life.  After we were there, and did that, I thought it would be the labor and delivery leading up to her birth, wrong again.  I was then sure it would be when they took Olivia away from us telling us "our time was up," which really sucked, but it wasn't the worst day of my life.  The worst day of my life was March 11, 2011.

It started early in the morning when I was woken up by a nurse trying to take my blood pressure and heard a baby crying down the hall.  I just turned my head as the tears rolled down my face.  I didn't want to hear someone's baby cry when I would never get to hear my own sweet daughter cry.  When I told the nurse that I wanted to leave ASAP, she said, "Well isn't that just the request of the day."  I wanted to scream at her that the other people could wait because they were holding their baby's and would get to take them home, but I didn't.  I sat there in silent agony with my arms crossed just rocking and trying to hold back the tears.  Finally, the Doctor came in to discharge me and I was told I would have to go and make a 2 week postpartum appointment.  Really?  You couldn't have scheduled one for me?  As I stood there, bawling, waiting for the girl to schedule me an appointment, the nurse from Maternal Fetal Medicine came by, hugged me, and helped me take care of everything.  She offered to get me a wheelchair, which I refused, I would be leaving on my own two feet.  Leaving, that is when my day went from bad to worse.  I realized I would be leaving my daughter, dead, in a cooler on the 7th floor and that my arms would be empty.  I didn't get the proud Mom departure of balloons and flowers and people cooing over my baby.  I was leaving with nothing but a box full of blankets and clothes and empty arms.

The ride in the elevator took forever and gave me just enough time to completely fall apart.  By the time we reached the ground floor and the doors opened I was an uncontrollable mess.  I was unable to see where I was going and am sure everyone was staring at the mess that just exited the elevator.  My husband held on to me and guided me in the right directions.  The closer we got to the exit, the slower I walked, and eventually, my legs stopped working all together.  He asked if I wanted to sit and I managed to blubber No, and he drug me out the door.  Thank goodness the valet guy had my car there ready to go because I was dumped in and basically went comatose.  I don't remember a thing about the ride home, amazing, since it was an hour long!  When we got home, family was already there, with our son, and I managed to make it in the house on my own two feet.

Home sucked!  I felt so empty.  I held my son as I pulled myself together and felt like it was inappropriate to breakdown and cry in front of family.  I held it together for the rest of the day, and when night came, instead of sleeping, I cried.  I cried for hours asking why, why, why!  I sat and rocked and held my arms like a child should be cradled so lovingly in them.  I ached, from head to toe.  My heart was broken and my arms were empty!

Meeting Our Daughter

March 10, 2011 was a crazy day.  I was having mixed emotions on meeting our daughter.  There is nothing in this world that I wanted to do more, but not under the given circumstances.  The ride to the hospital was a quiet one, it was hard to find anything to talk about.  I knew the day was going to be exhausting and I was trying to prepare myself, both mentally and physically.  I know now that you can never prepare yourself for such an event.  Meeting your "sleeping" child will never be an easy thing for people to go through.

We arrived at the hospital at 8:00 a.m. and went to valet parking.  The valet saw my belly and that I was hugging a pillow and said, "So, today's the big day huh?"  I just looked at him and after a moment broke down in tears and said "No" so quietly I didn't know if he heard me before I ran away.  It didn't get any easier.  I managed to compose myself as we walked through the long corridor and stood waiting for the elevator for what seemed like eternity.  As we got off the elevator on the maternity ward floor, the receptionist began checking us in.  She started to tell us that once the baby arrived the Father, my Husband, would no longer need to wear his visitors tag because he would be given a wrist bracelet that matched our daughters.  I told her there would be no wristbands and broke down again.  Till this day I am still unsure why this woman was not informed of our situation before hand.  It would have saved me a lot of unnecessary upsets.  As we proceeded down the delivery floor hallway we ran into another reception desk.  This time the tears on my face told these women exactly who I was and they politely introduced themselves as they whisked me away to my room.  I was so grateful at that point in time to not have to talk or explain anything.  Diane and Carol, my nurses for the day shift, were phenomenal.  Diane sat and talked with me for over an hour, telling me about her work experience and her own personal losses.  She told me what to expect with the deliver, as well as from people afterward.  I was told that I would most likely be in labor until after midnight and that this process would take a long time.  They said early would be late tonight.  One of the best things she said to me was that people will most likely say the wrong thing, and I will get upset, but to remember that they are doing their best and usually don't mean it the way it comes out.  After signing my life away in a books worth of paper, it was time to start the induction.

At 9:30 a.m. on March 10, 2011 I was given cytotec to start my cervix on the path to ripening.  Family started coming in shortly after to sit and pass the time with us.  My Father and Step-Mother were the first to arrive and kept me busy playing cards and other trivial things.  Around 1:00 p.m. my Mother-In-Law and Father-In-Law showed up.  My FIL flew in from his job in Minnesota so that he could be there to meet his granddaughter.  At 1:30 p.m. they checked my cervix and since there was nothing going on they gave me another dose of cytotec.  They kept asking, almost insisting, that I get an epidural or take another form of pain medication, but I told them I didn't want anything.  I felt that I needed to experience everything to the fullest, like I owed my daughter that much (after all, if she had made it to term there wouldn't be any medication).  I also felt that it was a necessary part of the healing process for me.  I wanted to be there 100%, both mentally and physically.  I didn't want to miss and/or forget a moment.  My Mother, Step Father, and Son were the last to show up around 3:00 p.m.  My Mom figured I was due for a break and that seeing my son would brighten my day, which it did.  (He was almost 9 months old at the time.)  Family for me really was a saving grace.  We were able to sit around and talk about happy times and about Olivia.  It was nice to have their support and know that they were all there to meet and great her as they would any other grandchild. 

At about 5:30 p.m. I had had enough of sitting and wanted to walk around.  I walked around for a bit and of course when I made it to the furthest possible point I had to use the rest room.  As we did our best to get back to the room they told me I was allowed to use the restroom, however I wasn't able to get off the toilet (talk about embarrassing).  Apparently when I went to the bathroom, my waters broke, however little there was, it terrified me.  When they got me back in bed around 6:15 p.m. they told me I could push.  I told them I wasn't ready and they left.  When it was just my husband and I in the room, he asked me why I sent them away.  I told him because I wasn't ready to lose our daughter.  I knew as soon as she was out of me that they would take her away, maybe not immediately, but eventually.  I wasn't ready to be so permanently apart from her.  We talked for awhile and after I decided that I was never going to be ready, I might as well meet my daughter.  They told me that I would be able to deliver vaginally with no issued even though she was breech because she was so small.  I began pushing at 6:45 p.m. and at 6:58 p.m. my daughter, Olivia Grace, slipped silently into this world weighing 14.3 ounces and was 8.5 inches long.  I was distressed and heartbroken when they placed her in the warming bed and left her there.  I immediately asked the nurse if she could dress her in the outfit we purchased, swaddle her, and bring her over.  As they were dressing her, I had them describe her to me so that I could be prepared for what I might see.  They told me that because she was breech things might dislocate or break and because there was no fluid there might be "deformitites".  She was so tiny and so perfect.  She had her Daddy's chin and my nose and she took our breath away.  I was instantly in love.

We contacted NILMDTS to come in and take some pictures, and my Sister-In-Law arrived as he began taking pictures.  One of my favorite pictures that he took that day is of her seeing and holding her for the first time because you can see so clearly the emotion on her face.  We took pictures with our own camera and everyone was able to hold her and meet her and tell her stories.  She was held and loved for the four hours we were able to spend with her.  That time will never be enough, but it was all we had, and it was a beautiful four hours.  At 11:10 p.m., our night shift nurse, Kelly, who arrived just after Olivia's birth, came and took our angel with her.  Kelly was amazing.  She called our little girl "Sweet Pea" and told us that she would reswaddle her and make sure she had everything with her that was to go with her.  Saying goodbye had been the hardest thing to do that day.  It was an extra bitter ending to such a bittersweet day!

Our Family

Our Family

My Husband, Olivia, and I

My Mother, Olivia, and I

My Step Mom, Dad, and Olivia

My In-Laws and Olivia

My Sister-In-Law and Olivia

Olivia Grace

Olivia Grace

My Second Trimester and the End

After switching practices and finding one that was on board with our wanting to carry to term, we tried to keep a positive attitude and were hopeful that our daughter would make a turn around and be our miracle baby.  I treasured every picture, every heart beat, every kick and wiggle.  I tried to soak in every detail of the pregnancy for fear it may be the last I would see, hear, or feel from her.

January 20th, 2011 at 14 weeks and 4 days pregnant I was completely taken off guard by a kick.  I tried to convince myself that it was to early and I couldn't possibly have felt it, but as it continued ever so lightly a few more times throughout the day I was convinced that was exactly what I was feeling.  What an absolutely amazing feeling!

January 31st, 2011 I had another appointment.  I was 16 weeks and 1 day pregnant and I was amazed by every little kick and nudge the baby made.  The Doctor's were impressed by how far she had made it.  They said that the majority of these babies (meaning TS babies) terminate within the first 14 weeks.  Our sweet baby girl was truly a fighter.  They checked the heart rate using a Doppler and had me all worked up when they couldn't find it.  After calling in another nurse, they were able to find a good strong heart rate of 144.  It was such a relief to hear so clearly that she was thriving.

February 21st - 19 weeks and 1 day pregnant.  This was the day I was scheduled for two appointments. The first was for a level II anatomy ultrasound and the second was to speak with the Doctors about what they saw and how the baby was developing.  This was the day that everything started to go wrong.  The level II ultrasound took about 2 hours.  I went in so optimistic that everything was going to be great and they were going to tell me what a miracle our little girl was.  We started by hearing a strong, beating heart, beating at the rate or 155 bpm.  Every time I heard that heartbeat I was amazed!  The ultrasound tech look perplexed as she continued the scan and I kept pestering her with questions about what she was seeing.  She told me she was not allowed to answer my questions until after a Doctor looked over the ultrasound pictures.  I knew things were going poorly.  Finally, the Doctor came in to talk to us about what they were seeing.  They told us that the cystic hygroma was there (which I already knew) and that it had grown.  It was measuring almost 4 inches.  We were told that our precious daughter had developed ascites, or swelling around her middle, that the edema was still there and was looking more severe.  The news kept getting worse.  They told us that our daughter was only measuring 17 weeks, so she was considered IUGR (inter uterine growth restricted). All of this we could handle though.  The CH, ascites, and edema could all clear up and we always knew she was going to be small.  What I couldn't handle was them telling me that they were unable to find your kidneys and that there was no amniotic fluid to measure.  They explained to us that without kidneys, there would be no chance at life for our little girl, other than the obvious missing organ.  They told us without kidneys she would not be able to create amniotic fluid, without amniotic fluid her lungs would not develop and she would not be able to move around freely.  Amniotic fluid also helps regulate body temperature and it helps to relieve pressure on the umbilical cord so that it doesn't collapse.  I left feeling like my world had been turned upside down.  Up until this point I had always felt that we would be meeting our daughter, alive and healthy, and that we would get to see her grow up.  They scheduled me for a follow-up appointment in 2 weeks, but didn't leave us with much hope that things would improve at that time.

February 21st after the horrible news my husband and I decided that we needed to give our daughter a name.  It was something that she deserved and it was one of the last things we would be able to give her.  We had been discussing names for awhile and had a few in mind.  I told my husband if I had to pick my favorite girl name of all time it would be Olivia Grace.  He told me he loved it and that Olivia had been on his short list from the beginning.  So, our daughter was named.  She is Olivia Grace May!

February 24th-  19 weeks and 4 days pregnant.   
     To Olivia:  I am having a really hard time coping with the fact we will most likely loose you
     and that I will never be able to bring you home from the hospital.  It is breaking my heart
     and I am so sorry that I am unable to do more for you.  I want you to know that I have
     done or tried to do everything within my power to give you the best chance at life, but
     apparently what I can do is just not enough.  I want you to know that I love you so much
     already, and have from the start, and you will always have a piece of my heart!
I ended up going to Hershey because I was having a hard time keeping myself together and I wasn’t feeling any movement.  They got me in as soon as I got there and it turns out that Olivia was still there and moving.  Her heartbeat was 136, which is good.  The Doctor did come in and note that the swelling in her abdomen was slightly worse than on Monday, and gave us devastating news that most babies in this position won’t survive much more than a few weeks.  I’m so heartbroken!

March 3rd - I’m to the point where I am preparing for the worst and hoping for the best.  I have not given up on our daughter yet, but the Doctor’s seemed convinced that nothing short of a miracle would help her.  I’m holding onto that miracle!  Trying to make decisions for the worst has really gotten me overwhelmed these days and I just can’t bear the thought of losing her.  I just need her to know that I truly cherish every little nudge she makes and everyday that I get to spend with her is truly amazing!

March 3rd -  My little firecracker, she kicked and wiggled real good tonight and her Daddy got to feel her moving!  Thank You Olivia for letting your Daddy get to experience with you what I have been experiencing for some time now!!  It seems like every time my days are looking doom and gloom, Olivia does something to brighten my day!

March 7th - 21 weeks 1 day.  Olivia has been kicking and wiggling real good all weekend.  I wasn’t nervous about going to the appointment at all because I was still feeling her move bright and early this morning.  I should have known better. My Grammy Bates (88) called at 11:37 am, right before we left for the appointment to see if I was ok.  She said she had a bad feeling, and something wasn’t right.  I should have been prepared after that, but I wasn’t.  When we got to the ultrasound appointment, the worst happened.  They were unable to find her heartbeat.  I was devastated.  I didn’t know what to think or do or what was going to happen next.  The Doctor’s laid the options out for us, and I decided I wanted to go the route of labor and delivery, but wanted to wait for it to happen naturally.  I scheduled an induction for March 15th just incase nothing happened and we went home.  On the way home we stopped at babies-r-us and returned the blankets I had previously purchased for Olivia for ones that I liked better and picked out a few stuffed animals and other things.  When we got home I special ordered an outfit for her to wear when she was born, it was a precious little white gown with a pink satin bow and a pink crocheted hat with a white daisy.  I did everything I would have done if we expected to bring this home a happy, healthy little girl.  I wanted her to have everything my son had had at his birth.  I called and contacted family, letting them know what was going on and that I would like them to be there to meet our daughter when she arrived.  I contacted NILMDTS and let them know that we were in the waiting phase and where we expected to deliver so that someone would be available to come take our "family photo."  It wasn't until I finished with all of my planning that I realized what was happening and broke down.  Everything started to sink in.  Our daughter was gone!  That kick I felt this morning was the last kick I was ever going to feel.  I was never going to get to bring her home or watch her grow.  I was never going to have to stay up for many restless nights to soothe her, feed her, and change her.  I wanted to do all of those things with her.  How was I ever going to be "ok" with not getting to do those things!  I just couldn't understand...

March 8th - 21 weeks 2 days - I panicked.  I was sitting around all day waiting for Olivia to move and it was tearing me apart  that I would never feel it.  I sat on the couch and willed her to move as I broke down in tears knowing I was driving myself crazy.  I wasn’t sure how I was going to make it until the 15th, so I called the hospital and moved my induction up to March 10th.

March 9th - My nerves were getting the best of me even though I was busy preparing for Olivia's arrival.  I  was afraid that her outfit would not be here in time so I called and special ordered a duplicate to be overnighted.  I kept packing and unpacking my overnight bag, because I knew I was forgetting something.  Shouldn't there be diapers and wipes and other things to help provide for my child when we left the hospital.  Shouldn't I be rejoicing in the fact that I was going to meet my daughter.  Why did this all seem so wrong.  Why shouldn't I have those things packed, why shouldn't I be excited about Olivia's birth.  Why, why, why... I just felt like screaming just that!  I think it goes without saying that I didn't sleep that night.  I couldn't help but think, ALL NIGHT, that this was just a bad dream and in the morning it would be over!

My First Trimester

November 6th, 2010 I took two pregnancy tests and both came back positive.  We were so excited that we would be having another child and that our children would be so close in age.  I was engrossed in my bliss and ignorant to the realities that can accompany any pregnancy.  I was "innocent!"  All of that was about to change.

December 13th, 2010 was my first OB appointment.  The day I was given a due date and the day we found out things weren't so "happy go lucky" with this pregnancy.  My Step Mother went with me to the appointment and we were all smiles.  We got to see the baby on the ultrasound screen and hear the sweet sweet sound of a heart beat.  I didn't know then how treasured that sound truly would be.  After the Doctor looked everything over he zoomed in and asked us if we saw what he was pointing at.  We both said yes, not knowing what he was getting at.  He told us that he thought it was a cystic hygroma (CH), that it was extremely early in the pregnancy to be seeing one, and chances were that it was a sign of a genetic disorder, most likely Down Syndrome.  He wanted us to go see someone in Maternal Fetal Medicine and referred us to a different hospital.  I left confused, upset, and above all, hopeful!

December 15th, 2010 at 9 weeks and 3 days we were seen by Maternal Fetal Medicine.  They did a length ultrasound and when we finally spoke to a Doctor he had nothing positive to say.  He said that the CH had grown in the few days since our last ultrasound and it now measured 4 mm.  They said based on the babies early gestational age and the size of the CH they didn't think the baby would make it.  They said if a genetic condition were to exist in conjunction with the CH that it was "100% chance of mortality" for the baby.  They recommended termination even before any testing was done.  My husband and I left with heavy hearts knowing we would not be returning there.  I immediately began the search for a new high risk Doctor that had a more positive outlook.  How could anyone possibly write our baby off when it's life had yet to begin?

December 23rd, 2010 I was 10 weeks and 4 days and I had found a new high risk Doctor.  We went to our appointment hoping for a more positive answer to what they were seeing and hopefully we would get some answers.  We had a CVS done and the Genetics Counselor and Doctors were much more positive about    the entire situation, though they let us know that things might not work out the way we want.  The CH now measured 4.9 mm and had a heart rate of 176 bpm.  We were told that any CH measuring over 3.4 mm meant that the baby was at increased risk for genetic or heart issues.  They told us the Genetics Counselor would be in contact with us shortly with our results.

December 27th, 2010 was the day we heard back from the Genetics Counselor.  I was 11 weeks and 1 day.  It was a day of relief and disappointment.  Relief came in the form of a diagnosis, disappointment came in knowing there was a strong chance (95% +) that our baby would not make it through the pregnancy.  Though we did not want to know the sex of our baby, the diagnosis gave that away.  Our beautiful little girl had Turner's Syndrome.  Turner's Syndrome is only found in females because it is the absence of the second X chromosome.  Our daughter had the karyotype 45X compared to the "normal" female karyotype 46XX.  We knew from talking with the Genetics Counselor prior to our diagnosis that Turner's Syndrome most likely meant our little one would not make it through the pregnancy, but if she did, she would be able to live a happy, normal life.  The only two characteristics they could tell us our daughter would definitely have would be that she would have a short stature (~4'8") and that she would be infertile.  All we could think about was that we were getting the little girl we were hoping for and that our son would have a little sister.


January 6th, 2011 at 12 weeks and 5 days we returned to the hospital to talk with our Doctors about our diagnosis and to have the baby's heart rate checked.  The Doctors were supportive of our decision to carry our daughter as long as she would have us. 

So my first trimester was a bit tumultuous.  I went from being elated at being pregnant, to devastated that something was wrong, to happy we were having a little girl.  We were determined to beat the odds and see our sweet baby girl.  Our new Doctors were willing to help us make that happen (within their power).  I was a an emotional mess, but I wasn't willing to give up.  If my daughter was willing to fight, so was I!

Life Before Loss

I thought I should start by telling about my life before our loss.

My husband and I met in the summer of 2004 at a mutual friends graduation party and instantly hit it off.  We dated for 3 years before he proposed and were married July 5, 2008.  At this point we had one "furbaby" named Keller and decided to wait a little before trying to get pregnant.  In 2009 we decided to buy a home and made the decision to start a family.

We were able to get pregnant our first month of trying and were super excited that we would be having a June baby.  We made the decision to not find out the sex of the baby as we didn't want to spoil the biggest surprise of our lives.  Our due date was June 17th, 2010.  The pregnancy was wonderful.  I was happy and everything went extremely well.  I never had morning sickness, I didn't have any swelling or heartburn, my blood pressure was always normal, I only gained 22 pounds, my labor (from start to finish) was 12 hours, I had no medical intervention or pain medication, and our son was born a whopping 8 lbs 13 oz and 23 in long on June 25th, 2010 at 3:12 pm.  He was the greatest birthday present I could ever have asked for.  Yes, he was born on my 25th birthday!  He was a happy, healthy baby boy.  We named him Boone Thomas.  Boone is my Mother-In-Laws maiden name and Thomas is my Mother's maiden name.  He was perfect in every way!

My husband and I discussed before getting pregnant the first time that we wanted our children to be close in age.  My brother and I were close in age and got along great, while his sister and him were further apart in age and didn't get a long at all.  We wanted are kids to be friends in addition to being siblings.  So, deciding to get pregnant again soon was a given and in October 2010 we were pregnant, again, after trying for only one month.  This is where our lives changed forever...