It all started at 11:15pm on a Thursday night. April 3rd, 2014 to be exact. I had been feeling extra emotional that day, but had no signs of labour starting. I wasn't due until April 9th, but was so hoping our baby girl would decide to show up soon. I was uncomfortable, and very much done with being pregnant.
Contractions started coming every 5 minutes, pretty strong. Then they moved up to every 3 minutes. I tried to sleep, but obviously couldn't. I took a bath, and contractions got stronger. The midwife came to our house to check me around 9:30am on the 4th. I was upset to find out I was still only at 1cm dilated. Her heartbeat was strong and steady. That whole day I continued to labour at home, as they only admit you when you're 4cm so I had no other choice. Walking around, moving around on the exercise ball, and wondering how the heck I was going to survive labour if those "strong" contractions had only gotten me to 1cm.
The midwife came to check again around 5pm. Still only at 2cm. This time she had a hard time finding her heart beat. She found it eventually, but it was faint. The midwife said she was likely face up, and that's why labour wasn't progressing, and it was hard to find her heart rate. My blood pressure had gone up significantly, so we all headed to the hospital and expected to stay there until she was born.
On the way there, we pulled into the underground parking and I said "The next time we leave here, we'll have a baby girl with us." I'll remember those words forever.
When we arrived, they hooked me up to the fetal monitor and couldn't find her heart rate. I could tell by the reactions in the room that something was wrong, and I began to feel anxious. They brought an ultrasound machine into the room, and the OB said "I'm so sorry." I burst into tears and kept saying "please don't leave me, please don't leave me." I'm still not sure if I was saying that to Derek or Brooklyn.
