Five Words

*Disclamer: This is a detailed description of Brooklyn's labour and delivery story*

Over the past few weeks, I have been reading a book called "Surviving the Death of Your Baby." The author talks about how recounting the details of labour and delivery can be very therapeutic. I wanted to write this post before I forgot all of the details. For the last little while, I have been slowly adding the details I could remember until it all came together. I want to be able to remember our baby's story for as long as I live. 

Thursday April 3rd. This is the day that early stages of labour began. For two weeks, I had been taking long walks, eating spicy food, and bouncing on my exercise ball to try and prepare my body for baby girl coming to meet us.

I felt extra emotional that night. I just didn't feel like myself. There was a Leaf game on, and we had planned to watch it with friends but I decided to stay home as I was feeling quite "off". At around 11:00pm I decided to head upstairs to bed. By the time Derek got home at 11:30, I was wide awake and having contractions 5 minutes apart. Around 1am we called the midwife who told me to take a tylenol for pain and a gravol to try and sleep. She also told me to take a bath and try to head back to bed. I told Derek to get some sleep and he headed downstairs to the couch. I knew we had a long day ahead of us, and I wanted at least one of us to be well rested. The gravol and tylenol didn't work, and my contractions became consistently more painful and closer together.

Around 8am, I called the midwife as contractions were 2-3 minutes apart, lasting for a minute long. She headed to our house and checked me. I was only 1cm. At this point, I was already feeling tired and this only made me feel even more discouraged. She checked Brooklyn's heartbeat which was strong, loud, and 145bpm - consistent with how it had been throughout my entire pregnancy.

We called my mum and told her that I was in labour. She came over to support us. Contractions kept coming consistently throughout the whole day. We called the midwife again when the pain became unbearable and I could no longer talk. Around 6:15pm, she came again to check me and I was only at 3cm. Again, very discouraged. She checked for Brooklyn's heartbeat, and had a hard time finding it. Eventually she found it - but it was very faint. She said it was 130bpm and she thought that maybe Brooklyn was face up. She said that this could explain both why it was hard to find her heartbeat, and why it was taking my body so long to make progress. She then checked my blood pressure, and became very concerned with how high it was. She said we would need to head to the hospital to consult with an OB/GYN.

At this point, she did not seem overly concerned, but told us to bring everything we would need as we likely wouldn't be leaving the hospital. We became very excited, as the moment we were waiting for was finally here. My mum decided she would come with us, just for support if need be. I was so glad she ended up coming.

I kept having contractions in the car on the way to the hospital. I remember thinking that they seemed so much stronger in the car, and the drive felt much longer than it had in the past. As we pulled in the parking lot, I looked at Derek and said, "the next time we're in this car, we'll have our baby girl in the back seat." Little did I know that these words would repeat in my head for weeks to come.

When we got to the Labour and Delivery ward, the midwife got us set up in one of the exam rooms. I put the hospital gown on, and she hooked me up to the monitors. As she put the fetal heart monitor on, she kept having to move it around. Brooklyn's heart beat had always been very easy to pick up from 13 weeks on. She always had a very strong and relatively fast (between 140 and 150) heart beat. The midwife asked one of the nurses to come in and help her. I started to think that something might be wrong, but was still feeling optimistic that something was wrong with the machine or that the midwife was right and Brooklyn was face up making it difficult to find her heartbeat. The nurse came in and touched my belly. She looked at me with concerning eyes, and asked if I was having a contraction. When I answered no, her eyes looked even more concerned. I touched my belly and realized it was rock solid. Something that can indicate a problem - usually placental abruption. The nurse also couldn't find Brooklyn's heart on the monitor. But I was still feeling optimistic.

Within a minute, they had one of the resident OB/GYNs come in the room with the ultrasound machine. For what felt like hours, she tried to find any indication of our baby's heart beating, or her moving around. The room was silent, and it felt like it was taking forever. At one point I yelled out "Is she okay?" The OB/GYN looked at me and said "Fiona - I'm really worried." My heart sank. At this point, I knew that she was gone. This is when I knew that we would not be leaving the hospital parking lot with our baby in the back seat. I immeditely began to sob. Derek took my hand and tried to comfort me, but I knew that he was scared too.

Then came the five words that would change our lives forever -

"I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat." 

My mum jumped over the chair she was standing beside to come take my hand, and try to console me. I remember sobbing and saying to her "Mum, I can't do this." Through sobs I also kept saying, "I'm so sorry" over and over again to Derek. I immediately felt guilty, and wondered what I had done for this to happen. I said to the doctor "Can't you just get her out of me and try to resuscitate her?" She replied "I'm sorry - it's too late."

The midwife said that they were getting another ultrasound technician to come in just to double check. I remember feeling angry. I remember thinking "what's the point? we all know that won't change anything." I then told the OB/GYN and midwife that I couldn't go through labour and delivery knowing I wouldn't have a live baby in the end. I asked them for a caesarean section. They explained that this would not be possible, as the risk to me was too high. They were still not sure what had happened, and were worried that my hard stomach indicated placental abruption, which could result in major haemorrhaging for me. Not only had we lost our baby girl, but we were now unsure about what the outcome would be for me.

They wheeled me down the hall and set me up in an ICU delivery room. They had to wheel me past all of the mother's who would be able to take their baby home after the hard work of labour and delivery. I remember thinking how unfair that was. Why me? Why my baby?

In my birth plan, I had decided I wanted to try to labour naturally. I had done a lot of research on epidurals and all of the potential interventions that can arise as a result. But as soon as I knew Brooklyn would not be coming home with us, I just wanted to feel numb. I immediately asked for the epidural, as my contractions were continually becoming increasingly painful. They told m that they had to wait for all of my blood tests to come back to make sure there were no issues with my kidneys or liver. Those results didn't come until around 9:30pm. Around 10pm, they gave me the epidural and I began to feel *some* relief from the physical pain I was feeling. I remember the nurse telling me that she could help me with all of the physical pain, but she was not able to help with how I was feeling emotionally. But I wasn't feeling emotional anymore. I almost felt numb. The weight of our new reality had not fully hit me and I was focused on the task of labour and delivery.

At first the doctor discussed giving me Oxytocin through a drip to try and make my body labour quickly. However, when she checked my cervix, I was 5cm and my body was labouring fine on its own. They decided to let the process happen naturally. I was very much okay with this, as I knew once the Oxytocin drip started, the potential for more interventions that I did not want would increase.

For the rest of the night, I tried to rest as much as I could, because I wanted to save my energy for delivery. Unfortunately, I really wasn't able to sleep. Our family members tried to get some rest in the visiting room, and Derek tried to rest in a pull-out chair in the room. It broke my heart to hear him cry he tried to sleep beside me. I felt so helpless. No words I could say would be able to console him.

The doctor came in at 2am to check me. I was 7cm.

By 6am, I was 9cm. I was feeling a lot of pressure at this point and thought I was close to pushing. But the doctor said I needed to wait until I was 10cm to ensure my body was ready. I wanted to start delivery before 7am shift change. I so badly wanted my nurse Cindy to be present at the birth. She had been so loving and nurturing to me the whole night, and I wanted to make sure she met by baby girl. She promised me that she would transfer my care to a really great nurse - so that made me feel a little better.

By 11am, I was still only at 9.5cm, and still feeling a lot of pressure. My energy level was low, as I hadn't eaten anything since Friday at 2pm. The doctor decided it would be best to give me a little bit of Oxytocin in the drip as my uterus wasn't contracting as much as before, and she said it may just need a little push. At this point, I was okay with a little bit of Oxytocin. I was tired and wanted delivery to be over.

By 12:30pm, the pressure was so intense that my I felt like it took everything in me to stop my body from pushing her out. The nurse checked me and I was 10cm. Finally! She talked me through how to push, and by 12:45, I was pushing our daughter out. My mum and Derek supported me and stood beside me the entire time. My sister-in-law and mother-in-law kept bringing me cold cloths and water. I was so glad to have so many people there supporting me.

I had read during my pregnancy that when you have an epidural, it makes it difficult to know how to push properly and feel the baby coming out. This was not my experience. While the epidural helped with contractions, I felt a lot during delivery. Before I knew it, the nurse had the two resident OB/GYNs in the room and they told me two more pushes and her head would be out. In reality it took around 5 more pushes, but it was such a relief when I knew the worst was over. Two more little pushes to deliver the rest of her body, and our baby girl was born at 1:20pm. Delivering her was the best feeling I have ever felt. It is so hard to explain, but I felt like I was in the worst pain I've ever had, and immediately, I found relief in delivering our baby. All of the pain was gone, and our daughter was here. Her cord wasn't around her neck, and there was no sign of placental abruption. I also had no hemorrhaging. There was no explanation as to why our baby's heart stopped so suddenly, but we were so thankful that there were no longer concerns with my health.

They had asked me if I wanted her to be put on my chest when she was born. I said that I wanted them to take her to the warmer first so that they could see what she looked like, and then tell me. Derek wanted to hold her as well, so I wanted him to hold her first. In retrospect, I wish I had them place her on my chest. I was just so scared of what she would look like, as I didn't know what to expect.

The doctors checked to make sure I didn't tear or need stitches. Everything was fine. No tearing or stitches, which would mean a faster physical recovery. Praise God for that, because since then, the emotional "recovery" has been extremely painful. The nurse and doctors also told me that they had never seen a first time mom focus and push as fast as I had. This was such an encouraging thing to hear, as all through my pregnancy I worried about if my body would know what to do, and how it would handle delivery. I felt strong and accomplished.

I looked over at the warmer and saw my husband, mum, mother-in-law, sister-in-law, and best friend swooning over our precious gift. Derek held her, and my heart melted. I have never felt a love so strong for my husband. The nurse came over to me and told me that Brooklyn looked perfect. She said her lips were dark and she had some bruising on her face as there was no longer oxygen running through her body - but that she was beautiful. Derek handed her to me. I will never be able to explain how I felt in that moment. She just looked like she was sleeping. She was so beautiful, and I could not believe that God had allowed Derek and I to have a hand in creating something so perfect.

I remember her feeling so heavy. The nurse felt her and said that she must be at least a 9lb baby! We were so surprised when she only weighed in at 7lbs 12oz. I also noticed how big her feet and head were! The hat they had out for her didn't even fit her head! No wonder I was feeling so much pain and pressure from her head the last 9 weeks of my pregnancy.

For the rest of the afternoon and evening, friends and family members came to visit us. I am so happy that other people were able to hold our precious Brooklyn. Knowing that there are others who have memories of her too means so much to me. I remember feeling so proud. While we would not be able to bring our sweet baby home, I still felt like we had the privilege of showing her off to the closest people in our life. We were (and are) proud parents, and our new reality had not changed that.

My blood pressure was still quite high so they wanted me to stay the night to further monitor it. I was okay with this as it meant spending more time with our sweet girl. I was so happy to see that nurse Cindy would be my nurse again that evening! She had the chance to meet our precious girl and for that I was so thankful.

When our friends left for the evening, Derek and I kept Brooklyn until 2am. We prayed over her, and spent time alone with her. This was something we would not have the privilege of doing in the future like all the other new parents. I handed her to the nurse while we tried to get some sleep after an eventful day. We slept straight through until 7am, and Cindy came in to give us a hug as her shift was ending. She said "I will see you and Derek here again one day, and things will look differently." I will hold onto those words forever, and I will never forget how loving Cindy was during a time when I needed someone to be gentle but strong.

I asked for our new nurse to bring Brooklyn back in so that I could hold her again. She told us that we could spend as much time with her as we wanted, so I wanted to make sure I got all the cuddles in that I could. Our parents arrived with our sisters, and the doctor came in to say that I was ready for discharge as soon as I wanted to leave. We decided we wanted to spend a full day with our baby girl, so the nurse said it was fine if we wanted to stay until 1:20pm. Our family said their goodbyes to her, and then we had our last 40 minutes of alone time with Brooklyn. Derek and I prayed over her again, and asked God to take the best care of her. We knew that she was not ours, but a precious gift given to us, so we handed her back to the One who created her. I kissed her soft cheeks countless times. I will never forget they way her skin felt on my lips. And then we handed her to the nurse. The nurse could tell that I was not ready yet, so she asked if I wanted to walk with her to where Brooklyn would stay until she went down to the morgue. I agreed and we walked to a small room down the hall where our baby would stay.

Handing her over was the most difficult thing I've ever had to do - more painful than labour and delivery. Knowing that we would not see our sweet Brooklyn again until we met in heaven was such a harsh reality to come to terms with. I felt so guilty knowing that she would sit in a morgue all by herself. I knew in my heart that she had already gone to heaven, but I still felt so guilty knowing I could not be with her or protect her. My arms felt so empty as we left the hospital. And as we came home, our home felt empty too.

I still have days where our home feels so empty, but I am beyond lucky to have the amazing husband that I do. He has shown me day in and day out what it looks like to truly love. I know that with time, love will fill this house again. And I hope and pray that one day our house will be filled with the sounds of infant cries and children's laughter.

Our curly haired baby girl before her bath. Lots of vernix and meconium on her still.