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My husband and I had three beautiful children and knew we wanted atleast one more. I had been thinking I wanted to get pregnant in August, but then I was accepted into nursing school to begin in August and decided it would be best to wait awhile to conceive. The end of August came, but my period did not. I took a pregnancy test and it was immediately positive. I was excited, nervous and happy. All the normal reactions to finding out your pregnant. I saw the doctor and found out my due date was May 9, 1999. Perfect, my last day of class was to be May 5. I would have all summer to be home with the baby and my other kids. This was working out perfectly. I had all the normal first trimester symptoms, nausea, tiredness, aching, and making a hundred trips a day to the bathroom. No problems. I had a prenatal check-up at twelve weeks, we heard the heartbeat and everything looked fine. The next four weeks flew by, the nausea eased and I was beginning to feel the comfort of the second trimester. I went on Tuesday, November 24 for my next prenatal check-up. We could not find the heartbeat. The doctor said not to worry, baby was probaly just hiding. She arranged for her partner to do an ultrasound, I could see there was no movement on the screen. He kept looking, and in my head I was thinking keep looking, just keep looking. Because as long as he was looking, there was hope. I will never forget when he looked at me and said "I'm sorry." That is all I heard, it felt like he had jammed his hand into my chest and was squeezing my heart, I felt short of breath. The rest of it is really a blur, I remember leaving the office crying so hard I could barely see and people were turning to stare. The next day I went back for another ultrasound to see when the baby had died and see what needed to be done. They decided they could do a D&C and scheduled it for the next Monday, because this was the day before Thanksgiving. Over the next day I convinced myself they were wrong and I would not have a D&C. Friday I started spotting, it got a little heavier Saturday. Just before midnight on Sunday November 29, my baby was born. He was a perfectly formed little boy. With his head at my finger tips his legs fell over my wrist, he had all the right body parts in all the correct places. I went into the office the next day for a check-up and so they try to find out what had happened to the baby. We were lucky, we did find out what happened. There was a true knot in the umbilical cord. His blood and oxygen supply had been cut off. After I lost Joshua, I had such an array of emotions. I could not believe this had happened. I was devastated, depressed, guilty and angry. So very Angry. Angry at God, I thought of all the people who have children and don't take care of them. He gives them children but takes mine, where is the justice in that. Then I would feel guilty for doubting him after all who am I to questions his actions. There was also the guilt of what had I done? Had I eaten wrong, not slept enough, said or did something so dreadful I did not deserve this child. I cried daily, several times a day. People who did not know I had lost him would ask about the pregnancy and the pain and devastation would come flooding back. My friends who had never lost a baby did not know what to say or do. They often said things that added salt to my wounds and although I know they ment well, I began to avoid them. I felt so alone. That said, there is hope. Everyone kept saying there is a light at the end of the tunnel, I thought, You don't know what I'm feeling, how can this pain ever go away. Well, it doesn't go away, but it eases with time. I do not cry daily anymore, although my heart aches when I think of him, which is daily. Joshua can never be replaced, but we did have a perfect, healthy son October 2, 1999. And I know Joshua's spirit is with us and one day I will hold Joshua. |
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