‘Well, there’s the sac…but I don’t see a heartbeat. It could just be early though… I’ll have you come back next week.’ I left defeated. I didn’t understand how this could possibly happen AGAIN. The week waiting felt like forever. That week was worth it. A heartbeat. A perfectly healthy baby. We set up my appointments and I was sent over to the High-Risk specialist where they’d monitor my pregnancy to be extra safe. I finally felt a glimpse of hope again. Appointment after appointment everything was looking beautiful. Despite one little scare of a brain cyst, our baby was perfect. We announced on social media very early. We knew safe zones didn’t exist. We wanted to share our joy and excitement! We were flooded with comments of, ‘Goldie’s going to be a big sis!’ Everyone seemed to share our joy.
Early on, and on accident, we found out this baby was a boy! Once again, a bittersweet moment. It meant Goldie was going to be our only girl and her things were going to still go untouched. BUT it also gave me a chance to have more hope. I was able to really separate them. ‘This is a different baby with a different story and *hopefully* different outcome,’ I kept saying. Month after month, this baby boy grew bigger and stronger. I counted kicks the way little kids count raindrops on a car window. Every second he wasn’t kicking, I was trying not to panic. Visiting Goldie at the cemetery, I would look at spots wondering if I’d be burying this baby too. Pregnancy mixed with grief is HARD. I couldn’t buy stuffed animals, teethers, or things sized past newborn for fear I would jinx something. I googled every single symptom that I thought could be something wrong. I made countless visits to OB triage just to be sure he was still alive. I couldn’t say to anyone, ‘WHEN he comes home.’ It was only, ‘IF he comes home.’ My saving grace was knowing I was going to meet him…one way or another.
On January 22nd, I walked into the hospital to be induced with my baby boy kicking away. I went into the same labor and delivery doors that I went into 9 months prior to be told that my daughters’ heart had stopped beating. I stopped at the same check in desk to sign in that I did with Goldie. In March 2017, it was a desk where I signed in to officially become a mother. I didn’t know stillbirth existed. In April 2019, it’s the sign in sheet where I became a bereaved mother.
I signed in alone. I insisted Ryan stay in the car while I got into a room ‘just in case he had died too.’ I was scared. The nurses knew my prior history and asked if I was okay. ‘I think so. I just feel like I’m going to throw up.’ ‘You’re going to leave with a baby this time!’ the nurse said. I mumbled, ‘I hope so…’ The truth was, I wasn’t okay. I was terrified. I didn’t know if I was going to leave with a baby this time. I wasn’t oblivious to all that could happen this time. I learned this pregnancy that people try to reassure bereaved pregnant mothers by saying we WILL bring a baby home and to speak things into existence. Unfortunately, we know the harsh reality. Despite our prayers, our hoping and wishing…bad things can still happen. After getting checked in, the nurse walked me into a room and my induction process was quickly started. Ryan came in and it felt so surreal all over again. We were smiling. We were laughing. There were no tears. There was a heart monitor! With a living baby’s heart beating!
The nurses came in and out turning up my sweet boy’s heart monitor because they knew I needed to hear it. It felt like a dream. Shift change was coming up and in walks my night nurse. The same nurse I had with Goldie. The nurse who wheeled me out with my box instead of my baby. ‘I recognize you!’ she said. I was overcome with emotions yet again. She knew Goldie existed! She saw her! She saw her in real life! Considering only my parents, nurses, and doctors saw Goldie in real life, this was extremely special. Ryan and I were so excited for her to be my nurse again.
My contractions were getting closer and closer and I was tired of getting up to pee. I called my nurse and told her I wanted an epidural. In came the anesthesiologist. My nurse held my shoulders and talked me through it. From that moment on, it all was very quick. It was time for shift change again and my nurse was leaving. I will forever be grateful for having her that night. My new nurse came in, who was my nurse when I got there the day before. Sweet as can be. She told me I was dilating quickly, and I’d have a baby by noon…she was right! About 10 minutes before it was time to push, I broke down and started bawling.
I told Ryan no birth photos just ‘in case’ he had died too. I texted my mom. ‘I can’t do this. What if I’m making a mistake? What if Goldie is mad at me? I can’t do this I just can’t!’ My mom assured me Goldie wouldn’t be mad at me and I COULD do this. I took what she said and pulled myself together. I asked Ryan to bring me my makeup bag, perfected my winged eyeliner, and I was ready to push. After about 4 pushes, my doctor told me his cord was wrapped around his neck. I panicked. I was done. No more. I knew there was a chance something could be wrong, but he needed to come out. I just closed my eyes as tight as I could, clenched my teeth, and pushed…
And out came our screaming, healthy, living baby boy. I had nothing to say. Tears flowed down my face and I just cried along with his cries. There is no cry like the ones that come from your own tears when you birth a silent baby. But there is also no cry like the one you thought you’d never get…
9 months later, here we are with our little piece of hope. Amongst the golden pines, we found our Stoney Evergreen. Perfectly picked by his big sis Goldie. We waited nearly 2 years for this. We waited 2 years for screams, for clothes to be used, and to finally use that brand-new car seat. This is our time to finally parent another living baby. We are parents of 3! Even though you can’t see Goldie, we are still parents of 3. For the first time in a long time, I consider us lucky. How lucky we are to get to love 3 perfect babies even with one of those 3 missing from our arms.”
**This story was written by Ashton L. of Texas and originally appeared on Love What Matters.
