Tag Archives: Pregnancy and Infant loss awareness month

Ryley

6280857397_4eaa5ebac3_b 6280851279_bdf58a3873_bMy husband and I were married December 2002. I was a senior in high school and he was 22. I was highly mature for my age and we knew we were going to get married at some point so we decided not to wait. I graduated in June of 2003. I got pregnant around a year after we were married. We had wanted to wait a little while and settled on a year being long enough. We were babies barely paying bills but we figured that we would never be financially ready to have babies so we just had to go for it.

When I got that positive pregnancy test I was thrilled. We were thrilled. New life was growing. I was sick. It was a good feeling. We started talking about the baby, names, plans, hopes, dreams.

I was working as a hostess at a Chinese food restaurant. My coworker called in “sick” again. She just wanted to party. I was SLAMMED and was stressed to the max. Right as I was bagging up an order I felt a pop and a gush. I ran to the bathroom. I was bleeding. A lot. I had no pads, I was pregnant. I wasn’t supposed to need them. I shoved some toilet paper in my pants and finished my shift. It was the most horrible two hours ever.

After my shift was over my husband drove me to the emergency room. I had to get a horrible catheter and blow up my bladder so the ultrasound could see baby. I was only 9 weeks so he was pretty small still. I had resolved in my mind that he was gone. Why else did I bleed?

I looked up at that ultrasound screen with fear. What did I see? I saw a little bean looking baby with a perfect heartbeat!!

The doctor sent us home, told me to be in bed rest and to follow up with an OB. We went to her twice a week. She did an ultrasound every time. We watched in awe and wonder as this little human we created was growing and changing. We loved seeing him wiggling and moving. What hung over us was this fear of impending doom. I was still bleeding. Why? What was the cause?

I remember going to the doctor March 3rd 2004. I was 12 weeks 5 days pregnant. Still bleeding. Almost 4 weeks of scary horrible bleeding. We went in and Ryley had grown a lot. We got to see him swimming around. Got to see his sweet little hand wave. I remember her saying that some women bleed their whole pregnancy and that she was 99% sure that he would be ok.

We left that doctors office with more hope. We were still making a life for this guy in our heads. We were dreaming and planning and praying.

We got home and a few hours later my husbands new keyboard came in the mail. He was downstairs playing that when I started cramping. Not period cramps. These were something bad, something I had never felt before. I found out later that it was labor. The pain was hell. It would come and go until it was just back to back to back.

My sweet husband called the doctor and they sent over some pain medicine to the pharmacy. I made him go and get it. The pain was something fierce. I thought I was dying. For hours. As he was gone I went to the bathroom again. I looked down and instead of seeing what I thought was another large clot, I saw my baby. I caught him and then delivered the placenta.

I stood there, all the physical pain was gone. I looked at this tiny baby, perfect. Perfect eyes and ears. Perfect little fingers and toes. Perfect little baby butt. I just collapsed and screamed. I yelled and screamed again and again. I screamed “why God?” Too many times.

Matthew came home and I had to tell him our son was dead. He was gone. Our hopes and dreams were gone. All of the plans and the life we created for him in ours heads was gone. It was over.

We were crushed.

We placed our precious baby in a cup. A freaking cup. We made our way downstairs to go to the hospital. Matthew stopped at the piano and played Jesus Loves Me for Ryley. I cried my guts out. We called our pastor and told him and went to the hospital.

Upon arriving at the hospital I am asked what makes me think I am having a miscarriage. I told that woman that my son is in the freaking cup.

We get back to the room and the nurse asks me what makes me think I’m having a miscarriage. Oh my gosh. Really? For the second time I let them know my son is in the cup. Not my uterus. A cup. They checked and confirmed that he was gone (even though I was holding him)

They asked if we wanted the chaplain and we said yes. She came in and her and the nurse did hand and foot prints of Ryley. The hand print didn’t take because they were so small. We barely got his foot in the plaster mold. She prayed with us and gave us information of grief. We left Ryley there to go to the funeral home. We wanted him to be buried with the love and respect of any grown adult.

We went to Sharis pie place and got pie. We sat. Silent. Numb. I felt empty. Like a failure. My body was defective.

My follow up with the doctor was so hard. She had a medical student come in with her and I was a mess. She told me that she couldn’t tell me why he died but that I need to see a doctor about my thyroid. She said to make sure that it’s taken care of before I get pregnant again.

We went to the funeral home next and saw Ryley one last time. My heart was so broken. The funeral lady was amazing and kind. The cemetery donated a plot to us, the funeral home let us bury him in an urn which was under one hundred dollars, and the grave marker place gave us a brick size for the cheapest cost. They were all a huge blessing. You prepare for a baby. Not a funeral.

We had decided that we would bury him alone. I wasn’t sure if my family would find it weird or if they even counted him as a loss. It was just me and Matthew up on that hill laying out son into the ground. The funeral lady stayed with us and printed us some memorial cards with his name and a poem and things on it. She was so kind.

We went home different. Sad. I didn’t want to face people. I didn’t want the pity stares. If you hugged me I was likely to cry and not be able to stop. I joined message boards online that dealt with miscarriage. I bought books and read my bible. I tried to make sense of things. I tried to heal. It was hard. Scary. Sad. Beautiful. Awful. So many things all at once.

I went on to having 3/4 of my thyroid removed to test for cancer, thankfully no cancer! I do have an autoimmune thing called Hashimoto thyroiditis. Thankfully our rainbow baby was born in 2005 and our little sunshine baby was born in 2006.

Being pregnant after a loss is a whole different story of scary emotions! For now I will leave you with that.

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Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month 2015 day 2

IMG_1381After we lost Ryley I had my thyroid checked out, had a biopsy and it came back questionable… had to have 3/4 of my thyroid removed to test for cancer. It was extremely scary.
After my loss and still grieving and then going into surgery for possible cancer….
It sucked.
Praise God it was not cancer and I was put on medicine to balance my thyroid.

We had Trevor and Hannah back to back and then 5 years or so after Hannah we got pregnant with Timothy. This is Timothys story.

TIMOTHY’S STORY

I was so so sick with my little guy. But I was so happy. I would just praise God that the sick meant that things are going well.

At about 14 weeks into my pregnancy I started detaching myself, I started feeling dread, i started feeling like something bad was going to happen. Was God preparing me for losing my baby? Maybe. I told Him I could not handle another loss. I would have a breakdown. Maybe He was giving me a small heads up or something. I do not know. I did not speak a word of my fears to anyone until about 16 weeks or so and I texted my sister. I told her that I am feeling like I will be getting bad news soon, and the fear is starting to consume me. I tried to brush it off and pray for joy…. I could not brush it off.
At my doctor’s appointment that week, he pulled out the ultrasound wand like usual and checked the baby. He was unusually quick this time. The dumb doctor NEVER showed me my baby, but luckily Matthew was there over his shoulder looking. Well Matthew did not see our baby move and saw no heartbeat. The doctor did not seem concerned though, so Matthew just brushed it off, maybe he did not see correctly or something. I mean, a doctor wouldn’t see a dead baby and not tell us…..right? I began feeling Timothy move around 13 weeks, and did not feel another movement after 16 weeks. That is another reason the dread and fear never left.
That was at 16.5 weeks, at 17.5 weeks I had a nurse appointment, and then at 18.5 weeks we went for our big ultrasound. I journaled that day “Either the technician is going to tell us happily the gender, or tell us to wait she has to go get the doctor” I tried to be excited for that appointment, when I texted people i used lots of !!!! and tried….but in my heart i was not happy or excited. I was scared and already a little brokenhearted.
She told us our baby was not moving and she had to go and get the doctor. Then I could not breathe, my chest got tight and I got dizzy…… anxiety attack….. The doctor confirmed that our baby was dead. Our son was gone. The doctor was excellent, very caring and answered all of our questions very very well. He told us the sooner we checked in to deliver, the better.
We asked for a minute, they left, we cried, and cried and cried…… our poor kids did not know what was happening. Trevor didn’t care and when Hannah realized no baby would be coming home with us, she was so sad.
We left there broken and sad. We began the string of texting people and facebooking our devastating news. The more people we could tell without calling or being face to face, the better.

After making arrangements for Trevor and Hannah and getting an appointment with the hospital, we got it all set to go and would arrive there at 8:30am on May 4th……….ending the day with a lot of tears and no sleep,and a 1am bowl of cereal with my honey, and then more tears….

We got the sitter here, and left, went to check in to the hospital. I am so thankful for Matthew. He did all of the talking. He did it all. He checked me in, and I went to sit down, and then the lady that checked us in comes over and hands me a packet of info on BREASTFEEDING!!! Did she not even peek at the notes while checking me in??? OMG, i was holding it together so good and then I lost it. Then some more waiting and then doctor came to talk to us, the same one from the previous day. again I cried. Then seeing pregnant women coming and checking in, cried some more. Wow, my heart was broken. I longed for my baby to be alive and kicking and moving and growing. This sucks!!

We finally got in a room. They put a leaf and water drop thing on the door so people coming in would know that this was a sad time and not a joyous one, they would know to be extra sensitive. The first nurse said she knew exactly what I was going through and was very sweet. Every loss is different so you don’t really know exactly what I am going through though….i hate when people say that. She was very nice and caring though. All of the nurses and doctors were.

We waited until like 12:30pm for them to administer the first dose of the induction medicine. I got the meds at 12:30pm, 4:30pm, 8:30pm and then pitocin after that. My water broke somewhere between the 4:30pm and 8:30pm meds, but I was not dilating at all really. Thankfully this was all a blur and I had morphine. That stuff saved me from the pain and also dulled the emotional pain. (not advocating drugs to dull heartbreak though) at around 5:20am on May 5th I started feeling pressure and the need to push, I held it off as long as I could and then yelled for Matthew, he yelled for a nurse who yelled for the doctor, and I had to push, just as the doctor was coming in. I delivered my baby and then the tears, panic, fear and heartbreak set in, my whole body began shaking terribly, my chest hurt, i could not breathe and i felt like my world was falling apart.

No parent should go through labor and delivery and not get to hear their baby cry…..

Through all the shaking and hyperventilating all I remember is Matthew’s face, softly and calmly telling me to breathe. I cry just thinking about it now because when I locked eyes with his, and heard his soft voice, and I calmed down instantly and began to breathe.

Then the doctors were asking me if I was sure i wanted to see my baby….. I was like “YES” but he did not look good, he had passed away in the womb longer than they had anticipated I guess. Matthew told me “it’s ok, it’s ok, yes you want to see him” and I did. I held my precious baby boy and cried some more. The sweet nurse took him over and cleaned him up while I finished with the doctor, and then they brought him back. I got to look at him some more, I checked his tiny little feet, I counted his precious little toes, I checked his little fingers, I stared into his little tiny face, I marveled at his tiny little ears and his cute little mouth. And my heart broke more….. I would never hear his sweet newborn cry. I would never change a dirty diaper, I would never get up in the middle of the night with him, I would never see his first steps, or feed him his first real food. I would never get to teach him or see him learn and grow. I was grieving for all of the “never’s”

We got to spend time with him and then they took him down and took a picture for us and we got his footprints on a card, they could not get his little hands, they were too fragile. They brought us a memory box with a little bear and a small blanket and some other things along with his picture. They brought Timothy back and we said one more goodbye.

We got a bit of rest and eventually they moved us to make room for someone that was giving birth to a live baby. I understood they needed to do that but I also felt like “Your baby is dead and gone, time to shove you off and make room for someone that really needs this space” and we got put in this tiny triangle of a room that was very old and creepy looking.

The doctor came in after a bit and we demanded to go home that day. They usually keep you 24 hours after giving birth, but I said NO!!! So she made us stay 12 hours and ended up letting us go home at 5:30pm.

We got home and rested.

Now I forgot to add, the doctors could not tell me why my son had died. They said chromosomal something maybe, I say it was regarding my thyroid again. Mommy instinct is never wrong. I told the doctor about my nausea, he wouldn’t give me medicine for that, so I keep throwing up my thyroid medicine…..so I was probably not getting the dosage I needed to keep my levels normal in the time between when the levels were checked. It all pans out and makes sense, but they wouldn’t agree with me.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month

Day one.

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Here is Ryley’s story. Our first pregnancy, first baby, first son, first love.

October is upon us.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month
A topic that needs awareness.

To kick off the month I want to share the story of my very first pregnancy, son, and loss. He was our first….wanted and planned… prayed for and loved… I have shared this before but my baby was amazing and I will share again wink emoticon So read on if you dare

I have posted my story before. I post it every year. Now I have two stories to post. Ryley and Timothy. (And now Daniel too) Today is Ryley’s story. Next week I will post about my sweet Timothy.(and the next week Daniel)

It is crazy, I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Every feeling, every moment is as fresh in my mind now,so many years later as it was that day.

It was the first weekend of February 2004. I went in for my shift a the Golden Palace. It was the weekend and we were slammed, and I mean SLAMMED!!! The other hostess did not show up so I was doing the job of 2 alone. Top that off with being 9 weeks pregnant, dizzy and nauseous. My stress and anxiety levels were through the roof that night. I felt like I was having a heart attack.

I took a harmless potty break and I began bleeding BADLY. Now if you know anything, bleeding + pregnancy = BAD! Well my sweet husband happened to show up and we decided if the bleeding has not stopped by the end of my shift then we would go to the E.R.

And to the E.R. we went.

I fully expected to hear that I had lost my baby. I already started preparing mentally for that news. After all the hubub, the ultrasound showed a living healthy little bean of a baby. He measured right at 9 weeks and his heart was beating, he was still alive! That was the first time seeing my baby and I was head over heels in love! I dreamed of our future together. I pictured how perfect our lives would be.

So the doctor sent us home and told me to stay in bed. I had an appointment with my ob/gyn doctor Monday morning. I was just praising God that our little bean was ok that day.

So Monday morning I was still bleeding and we went in for my appointment. The doctor did a check and an ultrasound. Things looked good, baby measure right on and his little heart was beating away.

I got put on bed rest/no work. I also had doctor appointments twice a week every week to keep a check on the baby and growth and everything. Things kept measuring right on and things were going perfect……..except the bleeding. It was the most amazing thing. When I look back now, all of those appointment were such a blessing. I got to bond with my son. I got to see him and hear his heart beating. I looked forward to seeing how much he had grown. I look back now and treasure those memories from those appointments.

My appointment on March 3rd, 2004 was at 11:30am. She checked and he had grown quite a bit. He was sleeping and the ultrasound wand woke him up. He wiggled and squirmed and it was so cute. He looked amazing and she told me she was 99% sure that things were going to be ok and that I would carry him to term. I loved seeing him that day because he was so active, little did I know I would be holding him that night.

We went home and all was ok until the early evening. I started having severe cramps. Later I learned those were actually contractions, I just thought I was dying.

I just kept telling myself over and over what the doctor said, she was 99% sure all would be well. I couldn’t fall into that 1% could I? I couldn’t bare the pain any longer so Matthew called the doctor’s office and she said it was ok and all checked out and i should be fine but prescribed me some pain pills. Against my instinct I sent Matthew to the store to pick them up. Of course they took forever to fill the prescrip.

While my sweet husband was gone I went into the bathroom. There I gave birth to my baby. I was 13 weeks along. This was NOT supposed to be happening.

I passed my son and then the placenta. Then I screamed, I yelled, I cried, I shook my fist at God. I felt so many horrible things that I never knew I could feel.

Then I say there. Numb. How was I supposed to tell me husband that our baby had died? Why me? Why was this happening to us?

Once I regained some composure I really looked at my baby. I did what any parent does and I counted his fingers and toes. Yep, he had all of them. He had the most tiny little delicate fingers and toes with little fingernails and toenails growing. He had my feet for sure. Long and skinny. I was also able to see that he was a he. The doctor later told me that if it had been any earlier of a loss that we wouldn’t have been able to tell. What a blessing to get to know. I am so thankful that we got to know the gender. Little Ryley Jacob fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.

Matthew came home and all that I could say was “He’s Gone” and all Matthew could manage to say was “WHAT??” Then he came in and saw for himself.

That was the first time I had seen my husband really cry.

We cleaned Ryley up and took some video and pictures of him. Then we went downstairs to get ready to head to the hospital.

Matthew stopped and he started playing Jesus Loves Me on the piano. I sat on the couch with our son and cried my guts out. To this day, that song still makes me cry this many years later.

Matthew called our pastor and told him what happened. It just happened to be during church and everyone stopped and prayed. I felt those prayers. We felt those prayers. Those prayers kept us together, kept us sane.

We headed to the E.R. Stupid stupid doctors. It was just an awful trip in there. The most stupid question I am asked is “What makes you think you are having a miscarriage?” I was like “DUH!! My son is in this cup that I already told you about” It was just the most horrible experience ever. After all the bad, the chaplain came in. She was a God-send. She prayed with us, she gave us pamphlets and information on loss. The best thing she did was take out this plaster mold thing and her and the nurse made us a hand and foot print of our son. I cherish that to this day. It is the only “Proof” that I can display and show someone who asks, Yes our son was real. It was “Just a miscarriage”. I hate it when people say that. Anyways I cherish those prints. They are barely visible because his hands and feet were so tiny and fragile but she got them good enough for me. I will never forget the love and compassion the chaplain showed us when we had such a hard time with the rest of the hospital staff.

We mad ensure that they released Ryley to the funeral home so that we could give our son a proper burial. They did tests on him and then sent him over to the funeral place.

After we left the hospital we went out to Kelso to Shari’s to eat though neither of us were hungry. We were both numb. I was numb. I was sick and numb. I was so in shock, I was carrying new life one second and the next it was all gone. How could it be over so fast?

Now all of my loss I remember clearly. The healing process is all a blur. Some of it stands out though. I have shared the story of my loss before many many times, but I have never really written out what really happened like this. I wanted to document it, one day my kids may want to know what really happened when they are much older. I want to be able to tell them and not leave anything out. I also hope that someone may be helped by reading my story and seeing that there is healing after a loss. There is hope and there is happiness. And that through it all God IS GOOD.