Wednesday, February 23, 2011 is when it all started. Work was over and I was at home getting ready to head out for the evening to attend my sorority's initiation for our newest candidates. I went to the bathroom first, as most pregnant women would with our ever-changing bodies, and while i was on the toilet i felt a little pressure from within my vagina, as if something was trying to come out. I looked down and saw something unbelievable: a yellow bulbous sac was hanging partially out. It appeared too big to come out on its own, as it was a bulging half moon shape. Having no idea what it was and feeling that if it's halfway out, the rest should probably come out as well, I pushed. That moment changed my life forever. That sac was the amniotic fluid sac providing life for my 17 week old fetus.
That moment was strange, to say the least. I couldn't tell what had happened - Did it fall out? Did it burst? I heard something hit the water in the toilet and make a splash, then liquid started coming out of my vagina. Was it urine? Was the sac my mucus plug? Was it the cervical polyp the doctors told me about 10 weeks ago? Perhaps it had grown so big and was preventing normal vaginal fluids from exiting, so when the polyp came out so did those fluids. My heart started palpitating immediately. I had just eaten a slice of leftover chocolate cake (what a healthy dinner!), so my heart was already excited. I had never felt it beat so fast and so hard in my life. Was I going to pass out and die right then and there, on the toilet?
The liquid continued to come out, but only as a trickle. Taking deep breaths in attempt to control my racing heartbeat, I realized I needed help. I got up, hoping the liquid wouldn't gush out again, and ran out of the bathroom to get my phone. Your mind never reacts the way you would expect in a crisis situation. I called my mom. Yes, I considered calling 911 and my doctor, but my mom was an RN and she would at least be able to calm me down and hopefully provide some answers.
My dad answered the phone. I didn't want to worry him so in my calmest voice I asked for mom. She was upstairs, listening to her music, and my dad wasn't sure if she'd hear him calling, but he would go get her. At least she's at home, I thought. If my mom was out, the chances of her answering her cell phone were slim to none. I waited for what seemed forever, and finally she got to the phone. I explained my situation, in a panicked voice, of course. I really felt at the time that the sac had fallen out, instead of burst - what could there be in my body that would just burst like that? She asked if I was able to see the sac in the toilet or if I could get it out. I looked: all I saw was toilet water, urine and toilet paper. Our toilet can be a black hole, I said. Maybe it fell down through the hole at the bottom. She asked if I could get it out with a spoon or something. I ran to the kitchen and grabbed utensils of various sizes - spoons, spatulas, ladles. I stuck the utensils in the toilet, swishing around, trying to stir up the liquid to encourage the sac to come out of the hole. Nothing. I can't find it, I cried to my mom. It's ok, she replied. Call your doctor and find out what he wants you to do.
I dialed the number for my OBGYN. Of course they were closed - it was after 7 on a weekday night - but they have an answering service. I called them and again explained my situation. My OBGYN office is unique - we see 5 different doctors throughout the course of our pregnancy, as any one of them could be on duty the night we give birth, so it gives us a chance to get to know all of the doctors. The doctor on duty that night was Dr. Mullins. The answering service said they would have him call me back, as he was attending at the hospital. Just a minute or two had passed when Dr. Mullins called. I told him what happened earlier and he said to go to the hospital. He would let them know i was on my way. I quickly called my mom with the news and she said she was on her way to take me to the hospital.
My brother had just left the hospital that morning. He was having some complications from all the antibiotics he's been taking since he got his wisdom teeth removed several months ago. I called my husband, Keith, who was at our monthly homebrew club meeting, and told him it was my turn to visit the ER.
I pulled myself together and waited for my mom to arrive. It seemed like forever before she got to my house. She pulled up in my driveway and I ran out the door and into her car. Time took so long to pass that entire night - the 15 minute drive to the hospital was agonizing. I tried to stop myself from crying - in fear that my baby was in danger - but it was no use. My mom tried to console me, offering different possibilities and scenarios. We finally made it to the ER and they immediately took me up to labor and triage. My husband beat us there, and they would only let one person in with me so my mom stayed in the waiting room.
I must have restated that evening's events about 10 times, each time to a different nurse/doctor. They took my health history, along with my family's, then my blood pressure and temperature. Finally they used a doppler to listen for the baby's heartbeat. Nothing. The nurse spent a good minute or two searching, which is a devastating amount of time, but still nothing. At my past two visits to the OBGYN they were able to find the heartbeat right away. Panic immediately set in. I was so nervous and anxious the entire time that my body was shaking uncontrollably. The nurse brought in an ultrasound machine, since the doppler can't always find the heartbeat, she explained, but that did not make me feel any better. She squirted gel on my belly then spread it around with the wand. I couldn't see the monitor really well, so I wasn't sure what the nurse was seeing. With my husband holding my hand, I looked down and waited, preparing for the worst. There it is, she said. 140 beats per minute. Relief spread through my body as I broke down and cried.
What next? I thought. The baby is still alive, but why is this happening? Dr. Mullins came in, and I again told my story. He performed a speculum exam on me, and took some samples to find out what happened. He used some long cotton swabs to do a fern test, to see if there were signs of infection or amniotic fluid. After dipping it in a solution (??) the test came back blue - positive. He then took the samples to the back, to examine them under a microscope. This would tell him for sure whether the ferns were due to an infection or amniotic fluid.
You have a bacterial infection: bacterial vaginosis. The samples showed signs of infection, but not amniotic fluid. While an infection is definitely not a good thing, I still thought that the lack of amniotic fluid was a great sign, so what was that sac I passed? He mentioned that my cervix is still closed (yes!) and he did not see a polyp - my cervix was clear. Maybe I passed the polyp, like I thought earlier?
Dr. Mullins did another ultrasound on me, to take look at things himself. He again saw that the baby was still alive, but he was concerned as he did not see the normal black background surrounding the baby - meaning no presence of amniotic fluid. He admitted that he was not an ultrasound tech, and perhaps a black area near the baby still contained the fluid, but it could also be my bladder. A real ultrasound tech had already gone home for the evening, so we would have to leave the hospital and come back in the morning to get fully examined.
My mom had snuck in to the triage area while my husband was in the bathroom, so she was present when Dr. Mullins explained what he found. He prescribed an antibiotic to treat my infection, and then we were on our way home.
When we got home around 10pm I went straight to bed. We were told to call the OBGYN office early in the morning to schedule an ultrasound for that day. I knew I would not get much sleep that night, with my mind wandering and considering all of our possibilities. I was nervous, fearful for my child's life, slightly optimistic as I always try to be, and exhausted. I managed to get a few hours sleep.
My husband and I got up around 7:30, showered and dressed. Keith called the office at 8am, and they said they could get us in at 9. We left the house around 8:30, stopped at CVS to drop off my prescription, then headed to the OBGYN.
The waiting room was full of women with large, pregnant bellies. I was slightly jealous of them - their babies were safe and their thoughts free from worry. This was just a normal checkup for them. After a few minutes of waiting a nurse called us to the back. She took us to the ultrasound room - no blood pressure or weight checks as they usually do - and had me get on the table. The ultrasound tech came in and immediately got to work ((maybe the ultrasound tech was the one who called us to the back?)). She found the heartbeat right away - 140bpm - but our worst fear came to life: there was no amniotic fluid. She showed us the ultrasound monitor so I could see the baby - this was my first time since I could not see anything the previous night. It was in the fetal position, with its spine a in a round downward C shape. It looked so helpless. She asked us if we wanted to take home any pictures of it - at the time I could not imagine wanting a reminder of our poor child in that condition, so we said no. She said that was no problem - if we changed our minds later they would save the pictures for us and we could always come pick them up.
Dr. Mullins came in shortly after, and the ultrasound tech told him the news. This was the beginning of the thousands of times I'd hear "I'm so sorry," "If there's anything I can do…," and all of the other sentiments people say but they really don't know how you feel. He explained the consequences of not having any or enough amniotic fluid for the baby: it's lungs won't develop properly as this is what the baby "breathes" during its time in the womb; without the fluid the baby won't have the freedom to move so it could be deformed with its arms or legs permanently bent and distorted.
With our child's fate determined, they sent us to the hospital to talk with a genetics counselor, who would be able to provide us with options. We headed straight to the hospital and found our way to suite 306 in the Medical Building. I filled out some paperwork and waited. A nurse came and brought us to an ultrasound room. An ultrasound tech came in and I had yet another ultrasound. As no surprise to us, she did not find any amniotic fluid, but she did see a heartbeat which was still chugging along at 140 bpm. They had a tv hooked up to the machine so I could see what the tech saw, but on a different screen.The baby was in the fetal position (which is normal, right?) but it looked so helpless I started to cry and had her turn off the tv. This nurse did a more extensive ultrasound than the other two, this time checking for the baby's kidneys, bladder and other organs. A new doctor came in shortly after, Dr. Moses, and the tech relayed her findings to him. Dr. Moses is a very blunt and straight to the point person, something I appreciated in the beginning but learned to hate by the end of my time with him.
Dr. Moses took us to a small office, where we sat down and discussed our options. To be blunt: the baby will not survive. In some cases the amnio sac can repair itself and be filled with fluid again, but the chances of that are so slim it's not worth considering. Our options are as follows: 1. There's a 50-50 chance I will go into labor within the next 72 hours. I would be admitted to the hospital at that time and deliver the baby normally. 2. Since the chance of survival is so low, I can come in the next day to begin termination - a 24-48 hour procedure involving a catheter epidural, laminarias (seaweed sticks that dilate my cervix), and hormones to contract my uterus. 3. Wait a week to see if the sac repairs itself and fills with fluid. If this does not happen we begin termination. There is a risk of waiting a week - I could get another infection due to my water breaking. Dr. Moses warned us that several women who have waited recently actually developed sepsis, an infection of the bloodstream. I couldn't even look at the doctor at this point. I was sobbing so much and could not reply to anything he said. He left us so we could weigh our options.
Always an optimist, I thought about waiting a week. Sure, I could get an infection but if there's any chance the baby could survive I wanted to take it. My husband is the rationalist and did not want to risk my life for any reason. We chose option 2: terminate.
When the doctor came back in we told him our decision. He immediately approved and said that was the best decision for us. In the state of Michigan you have to wait 24 hours after signing termination papers before you can begin the procedure. That meant at 12pm on Friday we would begin the process of removing my poor, endangered child from my body.
He left and had a genetics counselor come in and talk to us some more. She brought in the papers, which we signed, then gave us some more paperwork describing the procedure, what to expect, what to bring, words of encouragement, and so on. She was much more compassionate than Dr. Moses. We left shortly afterward and headed home, grabbing lunch on the way.
We called my dad first, who was at work, and told him the news, followed by my mom, then Keith's parents and sister. Keith dropped me off at home and I laid down on the couch - a place I've spent many days working from home or resting due to morning sickness. I started calling some friends whom I'd normally be seeing the next few days, while Keith went out to get my prescription and pick up some groceries.
I only called a few people, as every time I broke down crying, and it was getting harder and harder to tell them. I probably would not have called if I wasn't supposed to see them that weekend.
Later that afternoon I received a call from the hospital. My insurance won't cover the termination procedure, as it's considered elective since my life is not threatened (yet). To pay for it out of pocket would cost us ten thousand dollars or more. Now what? The nurse on the phone suggested I call some of the clinics listed in the paper pack from the genetics counselor. They offer alternative procedures which also would not be covered by my insurance, but it's something we could afford. We still had another option on our hands: waiting.
I decided to call one of the clinics, just to see how much it would cost and what they would do. They were surprised that the hospital couldn't do anything for me as they were very concerned about the risk of infection. I took down the information they provided and again weighed my options. The clinic asked for my hospital records, so I made a few calls to get them faxed over. My husband finally got home from grocery shopping and I told him the news. He was furious over the fact that our insurance won't cover the procedure, because my life _is_ at risk even though I am not sick yet. He tried calling them but it was no use. The hospital had already done what it could to get us covered, and there was nothing more we could do.
We talked for a bit about our new options: waiting or going to a clinic. Perhaps this was a sign that we needed to give our child a chance at life. We chose to wait.
I spoke with my general doctor and a friend, who is a retired OBGYN. They both felt I should wait since the baby still had a heartbeat. They had ideas for what to do - lie flat, drink LOTS of fluids, maybe the doctor could "glue" the sac back together (I read about this later and some women had this done successfully) or fill the sac up with fluids via amnio infusion. I called Dr. Moses late that afternoon to ask him if any of this were possible, and he said the last two would not work - you just can't glue it back together and the amnio infusion would only put saline in, and if there's a rupture then the fluids will just come back out. His nurse told me to call back in the morning with our final decision. While we had already made up our minds, it gave us some time to think and also kept our appointment open just in case.
That night I started googling on my laptop to see if other women have had the same experience as me, to see what their outcomes were. Surprisingly I found several stories where the women were immediately admitted to the hospital and put on bed rest, and they were as far along as I was. Some were able to make it far enough where their babies' lungs matured, and even though they were born prematurely they survived. There was one women who even made it to full term. Granted, I don't know how severely their sacs were ruptured. It could have been just a pinhole rupture or it could have been a large one as mine likely was.
I made sure to lie flat as much as I could and drank lots and lots of fluids. I checked my temperature every few hours to make sure I did not have an infection. I took my antibiotic, then went to bed and managed to get some sleep.
The next day I woke up at 8am, very hungry and with the beginning of a headache. As I was getting out of bed I felt the sudden urge to throw up. I quickly ran to the bathroom and did just that. There wasn't anything in my stomach to make me nauseous so I wasn't sure why I had this feeling. The vomiting was violent as well - my whole body was convulsing with each release. Throughout my pregnancy I had only thrown up once. While I felt nauseous most of the time, I was able to control myself and keep everything down. This was entirely different.
I shrugged it off; maybe it was the antibiotic. I was due for another pill so this time I took it with some oatmeal in case my stomach was reacting to it. Bad idea. I got through half a bowl of oatmeal when my stomach started making these awful gurgling noises and yet again, with just a few seconds' notice, I had to vomit. I didn't make it to the bathroom this time and ended up throwing up on our carpet. I felt like my cat Gryphon, a maine coon who seems to enjoy randomly throwing up around our house. Luckily we have some Resolve pet stain remover on hand so we were able to clean up my mess.
This was not looking good. What was wrong with me? Was the antibiotic messing with my body this much? Rarely do I react to medicines - if anything my stomach might get a little upset but I'm always able to get through it. I laid back down on the couch and called my OBGYN, asking for a different pill since this one seemed to be making me sick. They said they would call it in to my pharmacy around 12 or 1, since it had to get approved by Dr. Mullins first.
The rest of the morning was spent on the couch. I noticed that I was still leaking some fluid - amniotic fluid. This was a good sign to me - it meant my body was producing fluid for my baby to keep it alive. Leaking the fluid was bad, of course, but if I could just lie flat and maintain a high enough level for my baby perhaps it could survive.
Keith and I had chosen to wait, to see if we could save the baby, so I called the hospital and told them our decision. I informed them of my vomiting, and they assumed it was due to the antibiotics. They told me to sip water every 15 minutes to see if it would stay down, to relax and take my temperature every few hours. If I got a temperature, started bleeding, or just felt "not right," then I should come in to the hospital.
About an hour later I threw up again. I had not eaten anything, afraid it would cause an immediate reaction, but just drank sips of water like the hospital suggested. I started getting chills, feeling achy, and my headache got worse and worse. My legs were in so much pain too, from being dehydrated or lack of movement from constantly lying down. My temperature, which started around 97 degrees Thursday night, rose to 99.3. Technically that's not a fever, according to the doctors, but it seems like it would be a fever for me. I threw up two more times when I decided it was time to go to the hospital. Keith and I packed an overnight bag, in case they admitted me, then we left for the hospital. The ride was horrible. I was worrying that my body would suddenly want to throw up like it had the 5 times previously. Sticking my head out the window to vomit did not sound appealing to me. Luckily we made it to the hospital by 12:15, with no regurgitating.
They took me to labor and triage again, and had me lie down on a stretcher. I told the nurses what had happened over the past two days, and why I was here today. They seemed skeptical, but they took my temperature (99.3) and blood pressure. Everything took exceptionally long that day - apparently a special triage nurse was supposed to be on duty but she was hours late, and there were a lot of pregnant women coming in and out of the unit so they were extremely busy. I threw up yet again while waiting for someone to see me. Eventually a nurse came in and used a doppler on me to listen for the heartbeat. She was able to find it relatively fast, but she did not state how fast it was beating. Keith mentioned later on that he heard them talking outside our "room" saying it was 190 bpm. That is very fast and stressful for a baby.
Eventually the special nurse, Giselle, came in and saw me. She tested my urine to measure the presence of ketones in it - basically to determine how dehydrated I was. The test came back as a 3, which means extremely dehydrated! They started me on a fluid IV, took some blood, and then we waited. The blood test came back saying I had a high white cell count of 27. A pregnant woman's normal white cell count is between 15 and 20. Does this mean I have an infection, other than the bacterial vaginosis? I still did not have a fever so they decided to wait to see if I would develop one. The nurses never checked my white count again, so I have no clue whether it went down or not.
While I was being pumped with fluids, I started feeling minor cramps in my abdomen. Giselle came back after a while and did a speculum exam on me. She did not see a polyp, just like Dr. Mullins, but she noticed that I was 1 cm dilated. In my mind this was good. While I wanted the baby to thrive with whatever amniotic fluid I could produce, if the baby was going to come out I wanted it to be as natural as possible.
While I was being pumped with fluids, I started feeling minor cramps in my abdomen. Giselle came back after a while and did a speculum exam on me. She did not see a polyp, just like Dr. Mullins, but she noticed that I was 1 cm dilated. In my mind this was good. While I wanted the baby to thrive with whatever amniotic fluid I could produce, if the baby was going to come out I wanted it to be as natural as possible.
After several hours of waiting with no temperature change, a few IV bag changes and urine tests, they decided I was worth observing and admitted me. Around 6pm I was moved to a labor and delivery room, with a bed that was 100 times more comfortable than the awful stretcher they put me on in triage. They continued to change my IV bags and monitor the ketone count in my urine, which was slowly going down. My parents came to visit, but I was so tired from everything that happened I could barely converse with them. I surprisingly wasn't very hungry, even though I threw up the only meal I ate that day, but Keith ran to the cafeteria and brought me some pretzels to munch on. My parents left after a short stay and Keith, the trooper that he is, managed to fall asleep on the pull-out chair in my room. I slept a bit, but my new nurse, Tara, was in and out all night.
Around midnight or 1am I had to use the bathroom. My urine looked mostly normal, but I saw some strange globs in the toilet. They turned out to be bloody mucus, which is normal, but that prompted the attending doctor to visit me. She flipped a switch which brought down a gigantic observation light from the ceiling (I honestly felt like I was in a sci-fi movie) then did a speculum exam. I was still 1cm dilated, but strangely enough she saw the polyp that two other doctors had missed. Nothing seemed abnormal at this point, so she cleaned up and I managed to fall back asleep.
My dad visited me again in the morning. I ordered some breakfast (french toast sticks and a fruit cup) which ended up not tasting very good. Around 10am Dr. Moses came to talk to me. He said I appeared to be doing better - no fever, so no infection, and I was hydrated again - so they would likely send me home to wait. I asked about the baby and if we could check to see if it was still alive. Dr. Moses seemed a little surprised by this idea, though I don't know why, but he said that was a great idea and he had a nurse grab an ultrasound machine. After she brought it in Dr. Moses sat down to perform the exam. Just 30 seconds of looking showed that the baby no longer had a heartbeat. We're not sure when he died, but I believe all of the stress I had from throwing up yesterday prevented my body from producing enough fluid and my poor boy died as a result of it. With his demise confirmed, Dr. Moses said we would begin procedures to deliver my child.
The first step would be an epidural, followed by insertion of laminarias to dilate my cervix, and lastly insertion of hormone capsules to encourage my uterus to contract. It took a couple hours before they were ready to begin the epidural, but I hadn't eaten lunch yet (surprisingly they were allowing me to eat and drink), so I decided to wait until after lunch. My mom had stopped by during this time to comfort me. Keith took several walks around the hospital to clear his mind. A new nurse had replaced Tara that morning, her name is Michelle and she was absolutely fantastic. I had never had an epidural and had tons of questions about what was going to happen, and she was so happy to answer all of them. My mom, Michelle and I talked for a good hour. She really eased my mind. When it was time to begin the epidural my parents left so I could have my privacy.
The epidural was quite the experience. Michelle did a great job explaining what was going to happen, but the anesthesiologist giving the epidural, Roxanne, never warned me when she was going to poke me or do something (I prefer being told) so the pokes and pains were a surprise. They raised the bed up to waist level and had me sit on the edge of the bed, with my legs and feet pointed toward/hanging off the other edge. They put two pillows on my lap and told me to bend over. Keith said I looked like a child! The initial pain was a shock - Michelle said it would burn and then go away, which it did, but it lasted a little longer than I was expecting. As Roxanne was sliding the catheter down my back I felt some pain on my left side, but luckily she was able to get it in in one shot, so she was only messing around in there for a few minutes. She taped me up really well so it would not move or come out, then they lowered the bed. I wasn't allowed to lie down yet because they wanted to make sure the medicine flowed down my back to my hips and legs. I could slowly feel my left leg getting numb and tingly, but my right leg never changed. I informed Roxanne and Michelle about this, and we tried having me lie on my right side to encourage the medicine to go over there. Roxanne also tried adjusting the catheter a bit so it would point to the right, but nothing was working. The only way to fix it would be to re-do the epidural, which I didn't want, so I chose to endure any pain that arose.
All day I had been feeling cramps and was spotting here and there. The cramps started in the morning and I was even able to time them - they lasted about 30 seconds every 5 minutes. There was a period of time where they stopped, but around lunch time (which was 2:30 for me) they started back up again, getting slightly more intense each time. By the time I had the epidural they were very consistent and felt like normal period cramps. They weren't too strong for me to handle, especially since I only felt them on my right side, but it was still uncomfortable. Another doctor came in - I don't remember her name - but she was going to be in charge of my delivery. She gave me an exam to determine how far I had progressed and found that I already dilated to 3.5 cm. The baby only needed about 5 cm to come out. She said I would not need the laminarias since I was so far along, and I only needed the capsules to get my uterus to contract. I thought it was a little silly to use the medicine, since I was progressing on my own just fine, but I figured if it sped things up then it was worth it. As my cramps were getting stronger, so did my spotting, AKA the bloody show.
About an hour passed, and my cramps kept getting more and more intense. It was time for another shift change, meaning it was after 6pm, so I had yet another doctor and nurse come in. This time a male doctor, and a nurse named Amanda. I had seen the doctor earlier in the day or night, but I can't remember his name either. He was very soft spoken. The doctor and nurse left Keith and I alone until I was ready for delivery, though Amanda made sure to keep me clean by changing my "pad" - it was really a big protective towel (like a puppy pee pad) they were originally just putting under my bum, but my bleeding got so heavy I had to use it as a pad. They told me to page if I started to feel pressure "down there." Not much time had passed when I felt that pressure and called them in.
They wanted me to lay on my back, but I felt more comfortable on my side, so I only went to my back when I felt a contraction, which was happening very frequently - every 30 seconds or so. After a few contractions I was definitely ready to push. With the next one I got the baby half out - butt first - and the next contraction allowed me to deliver the rest of it. The room was so silent. You always expect when a baby is delivered to hear crying or some sort of excitement in the room. Not that I was expecting to hear cheers or anything, but it was as if we were in a library. The doctor waited for some more contractions to see if the placenta would come out, but it didn't. He then cut the umbilical cord, and they took the baby away to be cleaned up. Surprisingly, it had been exactly 72 hours since my water broke to when our child was born.
The doctor gave me some more capsules so my uterus would push the placenta out. If it didn't come out on its own they would need to perform a D&C on me - dilation and curettage. This process involves surgically scraping out my uterus to remove the placenta and any "leftovers" from the pregnancy. There are risks associated with this: bleeding, perforation of the uterus which could cause problems with my menstrual cycle, and infection. Thankfully, after another hour of contractions, I was able to push the placenta out naturally.
Amanda continued to monitor my temperature, blood pressure, and bleeding. She made sure I was as clean as possible and as comfortable as possible. I have to thank her for how wonderful she was. She had had a miscarriage as well and knew how hard it was for us. In between taking care of me she was also attending to our baby - cleaning it up, taking measurements and whatever else you do when a baby's just been born. We didn't know, yet, that it was a boy, but Keith and I both had such strong feelings about this child that it couldn't possibly be a girl. When Amanda came in to officially tell us the gender - a boy! - we were so happy. Well, as happy as you can be when you've just lost a child. She told us he had big feet and "was most definitely a boy." He weighed a whopping 4.6 oz and was 8.5 inches long. She then asked us what we wanted to name him. From the moment Keith and I first discussed having children and potential baby names, we fell in love with the name Aidan. Actually, I've liked this name since I first heard it back in 6th grade. I was concerned about it being such a popular name, but no one in my family or circle of friends has used it yet so it was ours for the taking. It felt so right and so perfect. Aidan means "little fire" in Gaelic. For some reason I had thought it meant "beautiful," but looking back, and knowing the real meaning, it is even more perfect.
A short while later Amanda brought Aidan in for us to view. He was wrapped in a blue blanket nestled in a small wicker basket. I was extremely nervous. I knew I didn't want to hold him (though, thinking back, I wish that I did) but I definitely wanted to see him. She pulled down the blanket from over his head and there he was: so tiny, so precious, and so red! Amanda warned us that since his skin is transparent he would be very red, and she was right. But the red did not bother me. He really was our little fire. He was this tiny, perfect little human being. His eyes were still closed and his mouth was open (sadly, because he was trying to find amniotic fluid to "breathe"). He had a little cat-like nose and tiny ears. Originally I thought his ears were these pointy, vulcan-like things on the side of his head, but those were actually parts of his skull. I saw little fingers poking out from under the blanket and asked if we could pull it down. Of course, she said. We didn't pull the blanket all the way down, but enough to uncover his tiny arms and chest. You could see each of his delicate little fingers, almost frog-like, I thought, as they were so thin and transparent, but not webbed. We spent a few more moments gazing at him and crying, then we had Amanda take him away.
We had another decision to make, this time concerning what to do with Aidan now that he was delivered. There were several options - cremation, funeral, memorial service, donating him to science. We ultimately chose to have him sent to the University of Michigan for testing. That probably sounds awful, but it would let us know if there was anything physically wrong with him that could have caused my miscarriage. What we liked about this option is that UofM will now return the baby's ashes to the parents. This means we could hold a funeral or memorial service if we wanted. We are not sure at this point what we will do. Perhaps we will have a small memorial area in our house or garden where his ashes can remain, but we are not leaning towards an actual service.
The hospital offers the option to have a blessing of some sort given to the baby. This could be done by a nurse or even one of the clergy in the hospital. Since Keith and I were raised Catholic, we chose to have a clergyman give a blessing. Amanda brought Aidan back in, with the priest, and he recited the word of God. He asked me how I was feeling. What can I say? So many emotions were running through me but I was surprisingly in a good mood. Having this closure with Aidan being born mostly naturally and my health no longer in jeopardy seemed to lift my spirits. The priest finished his blessing and left. We had called my parents earlier to tell them the news, and my dad arrived shortly after the priest left. My dad cannot stand to be around blood and other such things, but he actually chose to look at Aidan. I know this strange memory will never leave his mind, but I hope he feels good about being able to see his grandson.
Amanda took Aidan away again, this time to prepare him for his trip to UofM, and came back a short while later with a memory packet and some snacks. My dad went home, and the hospital had me stay overnight again for observation. Amanda continued to tend to me, and they started me on antibiotics. I received a Rho-gam shot as I have B negative blood while Keith is A positive, and then it was time for sleep.
The next morning, after some pain with the second dose of antibiotics, I was ready to go home. I showered, packed up my things, sat in a wheelchair and was wheeled out of the hospital. Keith had already taken my things to the car, so all I had to hold was a small water bottle. I felt so empty, so sad, with no baby to take home with me. No cheerful balloons, no flowers, no cards offering well-wishes like you see in the movies when a brand new mom and baby come home from the hospital. We arrived home, numb, and I resumed my position on the couch. The next week or two would require a lot of rest as I recover from the past 72 traumatic hours.
I didn't look at the memory packet until after I got home from the hospital. It contained photographs, hand- and footprints, a hospital wristband, and a little certificate with Aidan's measurements on it. The memorabilia itself was wrapped in a soft blue blanket-like envelope. He is not here physically, but I lovingly hold that envelope to my chest as if it were my baby boy.
