Thursday, July 15, 2010

Labor...well sort of

Sorry about the delay. I had a hard time writing this. I also had a hard time getting back to it after I wrote it last week. This was the part I didn't want to write. The end I guess. Its the part that is almost the finality of the event. Although I know I have more to say and to write, the delivery was the end. Not only was it the end to my pregnancy, but to the thought of my daughter being with me. I know not a lot of people understand this. Really, only ones who have gone through this fully understand what I am saying ...well I think they do.

Recently I have been reading other people's blogs and whatever I can find really relating to our situation. I find a lot of comfort in reading these blogs. I have found on many occasions while reading that I sit there thinking how do they know whats in my head. How do they seem to say exactly word for word what I am feeling and thinking. Its odd really, for a world full of strangers who have been raised differently and had totally different life experiences....we are all the same in our loss and our grief. I know I have said many a times recently that I do tend to look at death unlike most others. I do not normally dwell in it, or get depressed, or angry. I found myself going through all the stages....quite quickly, but also having a full understanding and almost a peacefulness come over me regarding Taelyn. I am not saying I do not think about her every minute of every day, because I do. Yet, I also had this ....I don't know what it is...but I know it was supposed to happen and I am fine with that. I have my odd days where I do get angry....not at god or whatever else...but just p.o'd at the fact that I wish I still had my daughter. I was looking forward to little pink dresses...as much as I hate pink..which I really really HATE PINK!!

Anyways here is the final edition to that day.

After I was told about Taelyn, I was asked if I had someone waiting for me....which I didn't. I was informed that while I had been waiting for my u/s tech to come back, they had phoned my doctor and my substitute doctor...and then the hospital. All were fully informed and ready and waiting for me to arrive at the hospital. So at that point I finally realized what had taken her soo long to get back.


I got dressed and made my way to my car. I was trying to fight the tears (I hate crying in public places when I don't know anyone...unless its a sad movie and I'm at the movie theater) while paying for my parking. I don't remember most of my drive home until I lost it. I started sobbing uncontrollably. I knew I only had a short time before I was home and wanted to pull it together before I arrived. I did not want to walk in the door and have my husband be able to tell from my face and worry. I didn't want my son to see me all red blotchy faced and not understand. So as I pulled into the driveway I took a deep breath....and waited. This was the last moment I had left before everything would come crashing down.

As I walked into the house I could only hear silence. My son was up for his nap. Good timing. I called Joe, who answered from the living room. I walked into the living room. Everything I had initially thought about saying while I was driving home went out of my head. He asked me how things had gone. I couldn't think straight. The words all came out without any control "We have to go to the hospital." "What?". "We have to go to the hospital". "Why?". "She didn't make it. She has no heartbeat. We lost her".


It was at this moment that I realized what I had been dreading the most. I knew I would have to either go through labor or have a c-section and the final result would be the same. I knew that I would be leaving the hospital empty handed. I knew that all of the little pink clothing was bought and would not be used. And all of the newborn bottles and nipples I had gotten out was for nothing. But I just couldn't handle telling my husband we or I had lost our daughter.




At this point we sat together and I tried to answer all of his questions. I told him I had to go to the hospital and I still needed to phone my mom. I told him to call his parents and let them know as well. I proceeded to call my mom at work. As the phone rang I was again trying to think of the best way to tell her. She picked up and asked me how I was doing. I said that I had just gotten back from my u/s. She asked how that had gone, in which I said the same thing as I had told my husband. I asked if she could possibly get out of work as I needed to go to the hospital and I needed someone to watch my son until I knew what was going on. She said she would leave right away and be over shortly. After calling my friend and informing her of what had happened I found my husband who was in the garage smoking. He had been trying to call his parents and his dad had finally called him back. He informed him of what was happening.


We got off the phone and packed my bag. At this point I started to worry as I had left my u/s at 11:30ish. it was now 1:00 and I knew the labor and delivery was waiting for me. I didn't want to be late. After that popped into my head, I thought what the hell am I thinking. It's not like its a rush now. It boggled me how everything was the same yet soo different. My thought process was the same, yet mildly messed up. I made a few more phone calls and we sat and waited. My mom showed up and we went out the door. Driving there was like a scene from a movie. We sat there quiet. No words were exchanged until my dad called and told us to hurry up and get to the hospital. My dad's odd. We got to the hospital and slowly made our way into L&D. We signed in and were escorted through the corridors. As we walked through the halls we could hear a women groaning in pain. On one hand I laughed thinking sucker, yet on the other hand I was sad as I was losing my chance of accomplishing that dream. I had been lucky enough to go through 24 hrs of labour with my son to end it all with a c-section. I was hoping this time I could go through labour and actually push the lil misses out.



As we walked past the nursing station they were all gathered around talking, which stopped as soon as we passed by. I felt like I was back in high school and had just walked by a bunch of people gossiping. After settling into our room my nurse and doctor came in. We spoke about my options...c-section or labour. All I wanted was to get her out. I didn't want to have to think about not having her, or possibly tricking myself into thinking she was till ok and I was going to have her. I wanted it done.

We found out it would be safer for me to do the c-section. I did not like the idea of pushing something out and not getting to take it home. At this point my in-laws showed up and we sat and waited. I was told that we had to wait until all surgeries were done as I was last on the list...I guess I wasn't special enough to be moved up...lol..


As we waited to discussed different things, basically anything to pass the time. I was visited by the social worker, nurses, and bereavement peeps. All just trying to gauge my grief and shock.


At about 5:30 I was taken in for my surgery. I sat there thinking it would all be over soon. I was thinking I would love for it to continue but only if I could have my daughter back. After I was prepped they allowed my hubby Joe to come in and sit with me. Prior to going in we had been asked if we wanted to see her after she was taken out...we said no. We wanted to wait until I was all sewn back up and back together. We wanted to be able to look at her and hold her together, not like when my son was born. When he was born I lay in the operating room trying not to bleed out from a ruptured artery while my son got passed around from family member to family member. You could say I was a tad upset. I had hardly got to see him let alone hold him. So this time we wanted to do it together.

When all was finished I was wheeled into the recovery room. My husband came in and we were handed our own little angel. She was beautiful. She was me. She had my lips and chubby cheeks and what a pout this kid had. Oh and the best or worst part....she was a redhead just like her mudder. We looked her over like you always do checking out her hands and feet, counting her toes and fingers. She was perfect and beautiful, and ours :)



We invited our parents in at different times, so everyone had a chance to bask in her beauty.... and their own grief and sadness. After everyone had held her and left, we just sat there holding her. I realize now I was numb. I had no emotions. I wasn't happy or sad or depressed or anything. I was numb. We took a few pictures. I tried to warm her abit cuz she was not as warm as I thought she should be. Shock and mother's instinct. The nurse offered to cut some of her hair and to take a few pictures. After what seemed like minutes but instead was 4 hours we were asked if we were ready to go to my room. I was being placed on a surgery floor instead of in the mothers and babies unit. We were then asked if we wanted to take her with us, now I wish we had. We were not told we could bathe her, or get her dressed, or even put a diaper on her. All I could think was what do I do with her if she comes upstairs with me? Shock and numbness....dammit.



I was wheeled upstairs and settled into my room. I was checked a couple of times and was left alone to try and sleep. Joe had opted to stay with me for the night and slept next to me on a cot. He fell asleep very fast. I finally drifted off to sleep and found myself waking up every 20 mins or so just thinking. I thought about the whole day. I thought about the night before. I thought about all of my fears coming true. I thought about what my day could have been like. I continued this all night. Eventually morning finally came. I told joe there was no way I could spend another night in the hospital. I couldn't sleep and could not deal with everything while being bugged every few minutes. My doctor had come in every hour from 7:30. Finally at 1:30 he came in and I told him I was all good and I had to leave. I promised I would take it easy but I had to go. So after hours of pleading every time he came in, he finally discharged me. I packed my bags and spoke to the nurse. I went over everything that I had been told by the social worker, and counsellors, and whoever else came to check me. I had been given a memory box to take home with me. I guess they do this so at least your taking something home with ya. We walked out of the hospital with the memories of my daughter in tow and went to my mom's to get my son.



When at my mom's house we went over everything that we had been told or saw or felt while in the hospital. The funeral arrangements. This was stuck into my head. We had to have a funeral. We had decided to have an autopsy done. We had to still call people to inform them. All of this stuff was whirling around in my head.


We also had discussed how in shock my OB was. Like I had said before. I had seen him the day before. He didn't understand what had happened. His face will stay with us for as long as we can remember. He was in shock himself. We could see him going over what he had heard and felt and how could he have missed this. We actually felt bad for him. He was the head of the L&D at the hospital and he was stumped on what had happened. He had come in after I was taken to recovery and told us that Taleyn looked like she was sleeping. He said physically there was nothing wrong with her. He could not figure out what had gone wrong as "she was perfect". He also had said in the 30 years he has been doing this he has never had this happen where there were no signs of a problem. We kept going over this. It was at this time I told my husband what I had been thinking from the moment I had found out....it was suppose to happen. There was nothing we could have done about it. She was suppose to be here only for a short period of time.

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