Part 6
The body of Katherine Joy
Christensen was delivered via emergency c-section at 12:10am on July
31st of 2014. She weighed 10lbs 7oz and to this day is one of the most
beautiful babies I have ever had the priviledge to lay eyes on.
By
God's grace I survived the trauma of my uterus rupturing....I woke out
of surgery around 2:30am and held my beautiful baby girl's, cold,
lifeless body around 3am. I couldn't believe she was gone.
My
husband came to my bed side and told me that he hoped that I wouldn't
be mad at him but that he had named our baby while waiting for me to be
out of surgery. I wasn't mad. I couldn't imagine of holding her with out
her having a name. I told him I would have named her right away too if
it had been him in surgery and not me. To this day I'm a bit jealous of
all the moments that Carl got to have with Katherine that I did not. He
got to hold her first, he got the privilege of feeling what warmth of
her body that she had left from being in my womb, he got to give her her
first and only bath. He got to spend 3hrs of uninterrupted time with her
all by himself.
Although I may be jealous of this time
my husband got to have with her out of my womb I am always reminded of
how beautiful and necessary it was for him to be able to do so as I got
to have 39weeks and 4days with her to myself in my womb.
There
is a lot more that I could go into of the days and months that
followed. Of the heartache of watching her eager siblings being crushed
as they found out that their baby sister had died. Of the points in our
marriage where our faults during my labor came crashing down on our
heads, of the trust that is still being rebuilt, and the confidence in
the strength of our marriage still having to grow. I am sure that slowly
in time I may write in more detail about those pains...but for now I am
tired and I feel as though a big accomplishment towards continued healing
has been met these last few days on these pages. As my therapist says
"All the important stories are hard to tell." So thank you for not
judging and for letting me share my story, in all it's painful detail with you.
Sunday, November 6, 2016
Katherine's Story Part 5of 6
Continued Part 5..............
I remember getting ready to fix my two older kids supper when the first onset of contractions began to happen. I was so excited that labor had finally begun and that it seemed like I would get to avoid another unnecessary c-section. I could even feel Katherine moving with every contraction that I was having. I recall gently, and lovingly, rubbing my lower abdomen and sweetly telling her that she would get to meet her mommy soon.
I was so excited. I had smiles on my face between every contraction and as Zach and Ellie began to ask me why I had stopped making dinner I told them that it was because the baby was probably going to come soon. I informed them that Daddy would be bringing them a Happy Meal home from work (which is a huge treat in our house) and just asked them to be as patient as they could be. They excitedly agreed. I remember hearing the two of them playing in between my contractions and they would come and check on me to make sure I and "the baby" were "okay."
During that time I had texted Carl around 5pm that I thought I was in labor and to be ready to come home. After I sent that text to him something changed in my contractions, they were still about 20mins a part but there was sharper pain on my lower right side. I thought that I was just progressing in my labor and when my last contraction went from being 20mins -10mins apart I texted Carl at 5:30 and told him to come home.
To this day I still am not entirely sure what took him so long to leave the office that day. All I know for sure is that when I called him at 6:00pm he still hadn't left the office and for whatever reason only got to his car by 6:30pm at the garage near his workplace. I know that office circumstances played a huge roll in his delay in getting home to me. He has said to me over and over again that he really didn't think i was in real labor...he just thought it was the castor oil and the herb that I had taken but that he didn't think it really would cause real labor. He was wrong, naive, and ignorant and admits as such which is the only reason why I write it, that and it is a huge part of Katherine's story. Sometimes we both wonder if things would have turned out differently if he had gotten home to me sooner. But I also share not to throw my husband under the bus but only as a testimate of God's grace to us in our marriage currently. God has allowed Carl to admit and take responsibility for his failing but has also allowed me not to grow so bitter at him for it that it would ruin our marriage. It could have, and at times almost has...I still, even 2yrs later, wonder if when I really need him again if he will show up and be here for me differently. Yes, it is sad...but that is the ugly truth about still birth...it tests the hearts and commitment a couple have for one another terribly hard.
Back to the story....by this point the kids were getting very hungry and I told him to try to quickly stop for the happy meals, and trying to stick to my birth plan, to get me a strawberry shake. I also said to him that I was going to hop in the shower to try to relax while we waited for him. It was during my time in the shower that a panic in my heart began to set in. The contractions were definitely stronger and a lot closer together. The pain in my lower right abdomen was growing and it was starting to hurt even between the contractions I was feeling. Something about it wasn't feeling "right". Of course, hindsight is a "bitch (so to speak)" and I should have just gotten out of the shower and called for an ambulance but out of fear that my kiddos would be scared and that my husband wouldn't be home by the time the ambulance got to me I decided to try to wait. Besides, knowing me, and my often random paranoia, I was probably just over reacting to the labor pain anyways.
It was about 7:15 when Carl finally got home. The kiddos received their long awaited happy meals and I could hear them excitedly screaming to their daddy "Mommy said the baby is coming! She's coming!" I couldn't hear daddy's reply, adults do talk more quietly than most 4 and 5yr olds. With their excited squeels of excitement I reminded myself to stay calm, it was "just labor", millions of women have done it before, this was all a part of the birth plan to labor at home as long as possible before heading to the hospital. Carl came to check on me and I told him to call my friend Kristy to come and get the kids. She was actually the only person I really knew at the time that we trusted to leave the kids with. He called her and she was still at Wednesday night church. She needed to situate her own kiddos at home with her husband first so she would have room in their van for our two car seats. Carl told her that it would be no problem as we thought we were in labor for the long haul. I mean with only 1 vaginal delivery under my belt and being that was an "induced" one we didn't think I could possibly be ready for birth any time soon.
Kristy came at about 7:45 and the kids said their goodbyes to me as I laid naked on the bathroom floor covered by a towel. Contractions are a "bitch" , contractions while your uterus is unknowlingly rupturing simultaneously, are in a whole other catorgory itself.
During this moment I just remember my sweet Ellie and Zach, hugging me, kissing me, kissing my "baby" and saying "Mommy, we can't wait to see the baby tomorrow." People have no idea how heart breaking baby loss is on a sibling until they happen to watch their own children fall in love with and lose that sibling before they even really got to meet them.
After the kiddos were off to the friends house (about 8pm) I remember telling Carl that I thought something was wrong and maybe we should head to the hospital. For whatever reason all he could think about was the "birth plan" we had come up with and sticking to it. Which, honestly, isn't wrong, it's what all the labor and delivery experts recommend and there was no way he could have known my uterus was starting to rupture. There was no way that even I really knew.
Once again we both thought I was just over reacting to the pain that is "natural childbirth" and so he insisted we call my doula, that was her job...to help us make and stick to birth decisions. So we gave her a call and she asked if I wanted her to meet us at the hospital or to meet us at our home. I couldn't really make the decision for myself, I was in so much pain during my contractions at this point. Carl really thought it was just the herb and the castor oil that I had taken causing the pain. So he just asked her to come to our house and then we would make a decision from there. Around 8:30 as we waited for my doula to arrive bits and pieces of all the research I had done about VBAC's came floating to my mind.. The parts of the research that stuck out to me most was all the times I had read from VBAC momma's and research papers was that the best place to labor when attempting a VBAC was the hospital.
It was that moment that I said "Carl, we need to go to the hospital right now. Like right now" He said ..."Did your water break? Is the baby coming? Are you sure? I mean everything we've been told was that laboring at home for as long as possible increases our rates at a succesful VBAC? Our doula is on her way here" I just told him..."I don't care about everything we've been told. I'm saying we need to go to the hospital right now. It's your job to take me. So take me."
He started to get our stuff together and helped me out the door to the car when at that point our doula pulled in. She asked me if I was sure I wanted to go and I said yes. By this point my contractions were now about 2-5mins a part and she thought I was in the "transition stage" and that was why my contractions were so painful. She reminded me about how we had talked about how rough this stage of labor would be while Carl was getting the car seat, my birthing ball, ect. Once we got those in we thought we could go but, again Carl's care free dad spirit kicked in and he was so hungry he thought he should take the chance to make himself a quick sandwhich and eat so he would have energy to be with me throughout the rest of the labor. We waited 10mins for him to get to the car, 10mins.
When Carl got to the car and we started driving immediately my contractions came on stronger
. I was not surprised by this because during my last trimester I always had strong braxton hicks contractions when riding in the car. I was prepared for the contractions. What I wasn't prepared for was the burning, tearing, ripping sensation my lower abdomen was experiencing. We even passed by a fire house station close to our home and I remember thinking "maybe we should just pull there and ask them for help in getting me to the hospital faster?" but as soon as the thought came the pain passed and once again I thought it was me just imagining the pain, and or over reacting to it.
With every bump in the road and every contraction still 2-5mins a part. The pain just kept intensifying and intensifying. When we got close to our exit to get onto the main highway that would take us to the hospital that I was supposed to deliver at I finally just let out the biggest scream ever and demanded that he pull over. I couldn't handle the pain with all the bumps in the road any longer. My doula was following behind us in her car and later told me she thought I had pulled over because the baby was coming. I only wish that was the case.
We pulled into the Burger King parking lot...where both Carl and my doula tried to convince me to just let him keep driving me to the hospital. But the hospital I was supposed to deliver at was still another 20-30mins away. There was construction on the highway being done that I passed by all the time that warned it would be a 1 lane highway after 9pm during the week nights. I knew I was in danger, I knew Katherine was in danger as I hadn't felt her move since sitting in the car waiting for Carl to come out...I screamed...I literally had to scream for them to call "A DAMN AMBULANCE." as I put it.
I don't know where this ambulance was coming from. I'm not sure why it took them so long to get to me but we waited 10mins for that ambulance. During that time the pain intensified and grew and grew. I was screaming during and between contractions, my doula wanted to check if the baby was coming but I knew she wasn't so I wouldn't let her touch me. My abdomen was on FIRE, it felt like someone was lighting my insides with a match, and then with one final contraction I felt a POP internally, and then I watched, as what I know now...Katherine move from a head down position to a breeched postion. She literally, in that moment, was coming out of my uterus, and up into my abdominal cavity. I screamed, i just remember screaming..."Oh GOD NO NO NO Please NO." and then the pain, stopped. It just stopped.
For a brief 30seconds...the pain had completely stopped and I felt much better. Surely, I had indeed imagined all the horrifying pain I had been feeling. I remember Carl and my doula, sitting shocked because i was just re-leaved of my pain. We even saw her move again. Sadly, now, I know she was dying. She was suffocating and drowning in my abdominal cavity because she literally had been born in my abdomen.
Of course, no one knew this at that moment. Not even me...I just knew that the pain was re-leaved for a few brief seconds, that i had felt her move, and that an ambulance was on its way to take me to the hospital. I was comforted..until the pain set back in and was now no longer confined to my lower abdomen but to my entire abdominal area.
Finally, the ambulance arrived and my doula was trying to get them to take me to the hospital I was supposed to deliver at. I just wanted to get to the closest hospital which I was told by the ambulance drivers was IU West, and St. Francis. I chose St Francis, i knew it was the closer of the two. They got me in the ambulance and started on their way...at first they didn't have the sirens on. The contractions had stop, the pain was bareable, it wasn't until I began to holler that I needed a c-section and started screaming that "it burns, it burns, " that the E.M.T sensed something was seriously wrong. I remember the fireman that rode with us to help the E.M.T saying "Is that normal?" and the E.M.T saying "Only if the baby is coming. But the baby obviously isn't coming" She then told her partner that he needed to call the hospital and tell them to be ready for a c-section. To get the on call doctor there as soon as possible and telling me to lay on my left side.
I got to the hospital and the staff came out to join me. The doctor hadn't arrived yet but once again the nurses there just thought I was a random woman in regular labor. I remember the E.M.T trying to tell the nurse that there was more going on with me but she shrugged off my pain and said to her "Have you ever been in labor? It kind of hurts."
During the time we were waiting for the doctor the nurses were trying to get my vitals, check my dilation, and find the baby's heart beat. But I was hysterical...I was screaming, "It burns, it burns, It burns." and when the nurses tried to touch me I fought them and demanded them not to touch me. My husband told me later that they had to hold me down in order to get an i.v. started and to do the ultrasound. I remember them asking the "on a level of 1-10 what is your pain." and I screamed "10, 10. 10...its over a 10."
At this point Carl and my doula had arrived to my bedside and I remembering opening my eyes to my doula's big blue eyes. I honestly thought I had died as she appeared to look like an angel with her blond hair shining in the light above her. When I realize it was "just her" I had the thought that I didn't want her to be the last person I ever saw again. I wanted my husband. I wanted to see my husband as I knew at this point I was dying. He was right by me on the other side holding my hand which I could barely feel. But I remember thinking "He's here. He's here."
The doctor arrived shortly after I had gotten there. He got there within 10mins of me being there and I remember looking him in the eye and pleading with my eyes please please help me. I couldn't speak it I had no strength. I guess I just hoped he would see it in me.
During the time we were waiting for him the nurses were frantically trying to find a heart beat. We finally heard " a heartbeat" and though it was the fastest I had ever heard a heart beat...it wasn't Katherine's it was only mine. The doctor looked at the ultrasound and with a frustrated tone as well as an urgent tone...he said "I'm sorry, there is no heart beat. I'm so sorry. Your baby's dead." I knew in that moment, the moment that he said she was gone my uterus had ruptured. I had done enough research on VBAC's that I knew there was no other reason why my healthy baby would now be dead. The doctor went on to quickly say how usually these baby's are delivered "naturally" but given the history of my previous c-section and the weight of the baby that he recommended a repeat c-section. My doula still sounded like she was trying to advocate for VBAC...she says she wasn't...but in that moment to me it sounded like she was. I just remember screaming "NO...I NEED A C-SECTION. I NEED A C-SECTION." The doctor said "Okay" and then proceeded to tell all the nurses to get a move on it.
On there way taking me out, Carl realling from the shock of just being told his baby was dead was encouraged by my doula to ask if he could come with me to surgery. I just screamed "NO." I didn't want him there. I didn't want him to see them pull my dead baby out of me. I didn't want him to see me die. I remember when the doctor said "Your baby's dead." thinking "Okay, I can die to now." and I didn't want my husband to see me die in front of him.
They wheeled me away and my husband kissed my forhead. I made the nurses rolling me back promise me they would try to bring Katherine back to life. That they would try. They promised me. When Killian was born many of the same nurses were on staff and they told me that that was the most heart breaking moment for them. Me, dying, pleading for them to bring my baby back. They told me they never forgot a baby loss and their momma's but that I was different. I was one of the only times in all their experiences that begged for their baby to be brought back.
In the brief moments of them rolling me back to the surgery room. The feeling, the knowledge that I was dying and feeling like no one else knew it was setting in on me. I began to panic. I began thinking about my other children, my husband, and not wanting to die on them. I was scared, so so very scared . Then in my panic something that I can only describe as the Holy Spirit comforting me happened. The thought "but you'll be with Jesus. You'll be with Jesus." came to my mind, sunk into my heart and brought me the most peace I have ever felt in my entire life. It was truly beauty arising out of an ugly moment. It was brief but it was greatly comforting.
I got back to the surgery room and getting me to move from one bed to the surgery table was excruciating.....just excruciating. I looked up into the eyes of the anesthesiologist and seeing big blue eyes. I kept saying..."It burns, it burns, it burns." He simply stroked my head and said "I know, I'm going to make it go away sweet heart I'm going to make it go away..." and then he looked at the doctor and said "I'm just going to put her under." My last words to him were "thank you, oh thank you."
I can't describe how freeing that moment was. Not just because the pain was finally stopping but because I truly thought that I was going to meet Jesus next. It was beautiful, comforting, and freeing because it literally felt like the burdens of this earth would be no more. As I found out later, it really almost was. At some point on the operating table my body had finally gone into septic shock and my doctor had to resuscitate me.
When I had finally gotten to a point where the doctor could actually open me up. I was told by the nursing staff later that the whole world literally just stopped. "you could hear a pin drop" as one nurse described it to me. What they saw was something that no one in that room had ever seen before. A baby, literally, out of the womb and laying in my chest cavity...in my chest cavity.
I remember getting ready to fix my two older kids supper when the first onset of contractions began to happen. I was so excited that labor had finally begun and that it seemed like I would get to avoid another unnecessary c-section. I could even feel Katherine moving with every contraction that I was having. I recall gently, and lovingly, rubbing my lower abdomen and sweetly telling her that she would get to meet her mommy soon.
I was so excited. I had smiles on my face between every contraction and as Zach and Ellie began to ask me why I had stopped making dinner I told them that it was because the baby was probably going to come soon. I informed them that Daddy would be bringing them a Happy Meal home from work (which is a huge treat in our house) and just asked them to be as patient as they could be. They excitedly agreed. I remember hearing the two of them playing in between my contractions and they would come and check on me to make sure I and "the baby" were "okay."
During that time I had texted Carl around 5pm that I thought I was in labor and to be ready to come home. After I sent that text to him something changed in my contractions, they were still about 20mins a part but there was sharper pain on my lower right side. I thought that I was just progressing in my labor and when my last contraction went from being 20mins -10mins apart I texted Carl at 5:30 and told him to come home.
To this day I still am not entirely sure what took him so long to leave the office that day. All I know for sure is that when I called him at 6:00pm he still hadn't left the office and for whatever reason only got to his car by 6:30pm at the garage near his workplace. I know that office circumstances played a huge roll in his delay in getting home to me. He has said to me over and over again that he really didn't think i was in real labor...he just thought it was the castor oil and the herb that I had taken but that he didn't think it really would cause real labor. He was wrong, naive, and ignorant and admits as such which is the only reason why I write it, that and it is a huge part of Katherine's story. Sometimes we both wonder if things would have turned out differently if he had gotten home to me sooner. But I also share not to throw my husband under the bus but only as a testimate of God's grace to us in our marriage currently. God has allowed Carl to admit and take responsibility for his failing but has also allowed me not to grow so bitter at him for it that it would ruin our marriage. It could have, and at times almost has...I still, even 2yrs later, wonder if when I really need him again if he will show up and be here for me differently. Yes, it is sad...but that is the ugly truth about still birth...it tests the hearts and commitment a couple have for one another terribly hard.
Back to the story....by this point the kids were getting very hungry and I told him to try to quickly stop for the happy meals, and trying to stick to my birth plan, to get me a strawberry shake. I also said to him that I was going to hop in the shower to try to relax while we waited for him. It was during my time in the shower that a panic in my heart began to set in. The contractions were definitely stronger and a lot closer together. The pain in my lower right abdomen was growing and it was starting to hurt even between the contractions I was feeling. Something about it wasn't feeling "right". Of course, hindsight is a "bitch (so to speak)" and I should have just gotten out of the shower and called for an ambulance but out of fear that my kiddos would be scared and that my husband wouldn't be home by the time the ambulance got to me I decided to try to wait. Besides, knowing me, and my often random paranoia, I was probably just over reacting to the labor pain anyways.
It was about 7:15 when Carl finally got home. The kiddos received their long awaited happy meals and I could hear them excitedly screaming to their daddy "Mommy said the baby is coming! She's coming!" I couldn't hear daddy's reply, adults do talk more quietly than most 4 and 5yr olds. With their excited squeels of excitement I reminded myself to stay calm, it was "just labor", millions of women have done it before, this was all a part of the birth plan to labor at home as long as possible before heading to the hospital. Carl came to check on me and I told him to call my friend Kristy to come and get the kids. She was actually the only person I really knew at the time that we trusted to leave the kids with. He called her and she was still at Wednesday night church. She needed to situate her own kiddos at home with her husband first so she would have room in their van for our two car seats. Carl told her that it would be no problem as we thought we were in labor for the long haul. I mean with only 1 vaginal delivery under my belt and being that was an "induced" one we didn't think I could possibly be ready for birth any time soon.
Kristy came at about 7:45 and the kids said their goodbyes to me as I laid naked on the bathroom floor covered by a towel. Contractions are a "bitch" , contractions while your uterus is unknowlingly rupturing simultaneously, are in a whole other catorgory itself.
During this moment I just remember my sweet Ellie and Zach, hugging me, kissing me, kissing my "baby" and saying "Mommy, we can't wait to see the baby tomorrow." People have no idea how heart breaking baby loss is on a sibling until they happen to watch their own children fall in love with and lose that sibling before they even really got to meet them.
After the kiddos were off to the friends house (about 8pm) I remember telling Carl that I thought something was wrong and maybe we should head to the hospital. For whatever reason all he could think about was the "birth plan" we had come up with and sticking to it. Which, honestly, isn't wrong, it's what all the labor and delivery experts recommend and there was no way he could have known my uterus was starting to rupture. There was no way that even I really knew.
Once again we both thought I was just over reacting to the pain that is "natural childbirth" and so he insisted we call my doula, that was her job...to help us make and stick to birth decisions. So we gave her a call and she asked if I wanted her to meet us at the hospital or to meet us at our home. I couldn't really make the decision for myself, I was in so much pain during my contractions at this point. Carl really thought it was just the herb and the castor oil that I had taken causing the pain. So he just asked her to come to our house and then we would make a decision from there. Around 8:30 as we waited for my doula to arrive bits and pieces of all the research I had done about VBAC's came floating to my mind.. The parts of the research that stuck out to me most was all the times I had read from VBAC momma's and research papers was that the best place to labor when attempting a VBAC was the hospital.
It was that moment that I said "Carl, we need to go to the hospital right now. Like right now" He said ..."Did your water break? Is the baby coming? Are you sure? I mean everything we've been told was that laboring at home for as long as possible increases our rates at a succesful VBAC? Our doula is on her way here" I just told him..."I don't care about everything we've been told. I'm saying we need to go to the hospital right now. It's your job to take me. So take me."
He started to get our stuff together and helped me out the door to the car when at that point our doula pulled in. She asked me if I was sure I wanted to go and I said yes. By this point my contractions were now about 2-5mins a part and she thought I was in the "transition stage" and that was why my contractions were so painful. She reminded me about how we had talked about how rough this stage of labor would be while Carl was getting the car seat, my birthing ball, ect. Once we got those in we thought we could go but, again Carl's care free dad spirit kicked in and he was so hungry he thought he should take the chance to make himself a quick sandwhich and eat so he would have energy to be with me throughout the rest of the labor. We waited 10mins for him to get to the car, 10mins.
When Carl got to the car and we started driving immediately my contractions came on stronger
. I was not surprised by this because during my last trimester I always had strong braxton hicks contractions when riding in the car. I was prepared for the contractions. What I wasn't prepared for was the burning, tearing, ripping sensation my lower abdomen was experiencing. We even passed by a fire house station close to our home and I remember thinking "maybe we should just pull there and ask them for help in getting me to the hospital faster?" but as soon as the thought came the pain passed and once again I thought it was me just imagining the pain, and or over reacting to it.
With every bump in the road and every contraction still 2-5mins a part. The pain just kept intensifying and intensifying. When we got close to our exit to get onto the main highway that would take us to the hospital that I was supposed to deliver at I finally just let out the biggest scream ever and demanded that he pull over. I couldn't handle the pain with all the bumps in the road any longer. My doula was following behind us in her car and later told me she thought I had pulled over because the baby was coming. I only wish that was the case.
We pulled into the Burger King parking lot...where both Carl and my doula tried to convince me to just let him keep driving me to the hospital. But the hospital I was supposed to deliver at was still another 20-30mins away. There was construction on the highway being done that I passed by all the time that warned it would be a 1 lane highway after 9pm during the week nights. I knew I was in danger, I knew Katherine was in danger as I hadn't felt her move since sitting in the car waiting for Carl to come out...I screamed...I literally had to scream for them to call "A DAMN AMBULANCE." as I put it.
I don't know where this ambulance was coming from. I'm not sure why it took them so long to get to me but we waited 10mins for that ambulance. During that time the pain intensified and grew and grew. I was screaming during and between contractions, my doula wanted to check if the baby was coming but I knew she wasn't so I wouldn't let her touch me. My abdomen was on FIRE, it felt like someone was lighting my insides with a match, and then with one final contraction I felt a POP internally, and then I watched, as what I know now...Katherine move from a head down position to a breeched postion. She literally, in that moment, was coming out of my uterus, and up into my abdominal cavity. I screamed, i just remember screaming..."Oh GOD NO NO NO Please NO." and then the pain, stopped. It just stopped.
For a brief 30seconds...the pain had completely stopped and I felt much better. Surely, I had indeed imagined all the horrifying pain I had been feeling. I remember Carl and my doula, sitting shocked because i was just re-leaved of my pain. We even saw her move again. Sadly, now, I know she was dying. She was suffocating and drowning in my abdominal cavity because she literally had been born in my abdomen.
Of course, no one knew this at that moment. Not even me...I just knew that the pain was re-leaved for a few brief seconds, that i had felt her move, and that an ambulance was on its way to take me to the hospital. I was comforted..until the pain set back in and was now no longer confined to my lower abdomen but to my entire abdominal area.
Finally, the ambulance arrived and my doula was trying to get them to take me to the hospital I was supposed to deliver at. I just wanted to get to the closest hospital which I was told by the ambulance drivers was IU West, and St. Francis. I chose St Francis, i knew it was the closer of the two. They got me in the ambulance and started on their way...at first they didn't have the sirens on. The contractions had stop, the pain was bareable, it wasn't until I began to holler that I needed a c-section and started screaming that "it burns, it burns, " that the E.M.T sensed something was seriously wrong. I remember the fireman that rode with us to help the E.M.T saying "Is that normal?" and the E.M.T saying "Only if the baby is coming. But the baby obviously isn't coming" She then told her partner that he needed to call the hospital and tell them to be ready for a c-section. To get the on call doctor there as soon as possible and telling me to lay on my left side.
I got to the hospital and the staff came out to join me. The doctor hadn't arrived yet but once again the nurses there just thought I was a random woman in regular labor. I remember the E.M.T trying to tell the nurse that there was more going on with me but she shrugged off my pain and said to her "Have you ever been in labor? It kind of hurts."
During the time we were waiting for the doctor the nurses were trying to get my vitals, check my dilation, and find the baby's heart beat. But I was hysterical...I was screaming, "It burns, it burns, It burns." and when the nurses tried to touch me I fought them and demanded them not to touch me. My husband told me later that they had to hold me down in order to get an i.v. started and to do the ultrasound. I remember them asking the "on a level of 1-10 what is your pain." and I screamed "10, 10. 10...its over a 10."
At this point Carl and my doula had arrived to my bedside and I remembering opening my eyes to my doula's big blue eyes. I honestly thought I had died as she appeared to look like an angel with her blond hair shining in the light above her. When I realize it was "just her" I had the thought that I didn't want her to be the last person I ever saw again. I wanted my husband. I wanted to see my husband as I knew at this point I was dying. He was right by me on the other side holding my hand which I could barely feel. But I remember thinking "He's here. He's here."
The doctor arrived shortly after I had gotten there. He got there within 10mins of me being there and I remember looking him in the eye and pleading with my eyes please please help me. I couldn't speak it I had no strength. I guess I just hoped he would see it in me.
During the time we were waiting for him the nurses were frantically trying to find a heart beat. We finally heard " a heartbeat" and though it was the fastest I had ever heard a heart beat...it wasn't Katherine's it was only mine. The doctor looked at the ultrasound and with a frustrated tone as well as an urgent tone...he said "I'm sorry, there is no heart beat. I'm so sorry. Your baby's dead." I knew in that moment, the moment that he said she was gone my uterus had ruptured. I had done enough research on VBAC's that I knew there was no other reason why my healthy baby would now be dead. The doctor went on to quickly say how usually these baby's are delivered "naturally" but given the history of my previous c-section and the weight of the baby that he recommended a repeat c-section. My doula still sounded like she was trying to advocate for VBAC...she says she wasn't...but in that moment to me it sounded like she was. I just remember screaming "NO...I NEED A C-SECTION. I NEED A C-SECTION." The doctor said "Okay" and then proceeded to tell all the nurses to get a move on it.
On there way taking me out, Carl realling from the shock of just being told his baby was dead was encouraged by my doula to ask if he could come with me to surgery. I just screamed "NO." I didn't want him there. I didn't want him to see them pull my dead baby out of me. I didn't want him to see me die. I remember when the doctor said "Your baby's dead." thinking "Okay, I can die to now." and I didn't want my husband to see me die in front of him.
They wheeled me away and my husband kissed my forhead. I made the nurses rolling me back promise me they would try to bring Katherine back to life. That they would try. They promised me. When Killian was born many of the same nurses were on staff and they told me that that was the most heart breaking moment for them. Me, dying, pleading for them to bring my baby back. They told me they never forgot a baby loss and their momma's but that I was different. I was one of the only times in all their experiences that begged for their baby to be brought back.
In the brief moments of them rolling me back to the surgery room. The feeling, the knowledge that I was dying and feeling like no one else knew it was setting in on me. I began to panic. I began thinking about my other children, my husband, and not wanting to die on them. I was scared, so so very scared . Then in my panic something that I can only describe as the Holy Spirit comforting me happened. The thought "but you'll be with Jesus. You'll be with Jesus." came to my mind, sunk into my heart and brought me the most peace I have ever felt in my entire life. It was truly beauty arising out of an ugly moment. It was brief but it was greatly comforting.
I got back to the surgery room and getting me to move from one bed to the surgery table was excruciating.....just excruciating. I looked up into the eyes of the anesthesiologist and seeing big blue eyes. I kept saying..."It burns, it burns, it burns." He simply stroked my head and said "I know, I'm going to make it go away sweet heart I'm going to make it go away..." and then he looked at the doctor and said "I'm just going to put her under." My last words to him were "thank you, oh thank you."
I can't describe how freeing that moment was. Not just because the pain was finally stopping but because I truly thought that I was going to meet Jesus next. It was beautiful, comforting, and freeing because it literally felt like the burdens of this earth would be no more. As I found out later, it really almost was. At some point on the operating table my body had finally gone into septic shock and my doctor had to resuscitate me.
When I had finally gotten to a point where the doctor could actually open me up. I was told by the nursing staff later that the whole world literally just stopped. "you could hear a pin drop" as one nurse described it to me. What they saw was something that no one in that room had ever seen before. A baby, literally, out of the womb and laying in my chest cavity...in my chest cavity.
Katherine's story Part 3 and 4 of 6
Continued...Part 3............
The following day I went back to my OB/Midwives office to discuss the results on my ultrasound. The midwife explained to me that Katherine was indeed a big baby and was estimating to be about 10 and 1/2 pounds and while the decision to have a repeat C-Section should not be based solely on gestational weight the OB wanted to go ahead and schedule the C-Section. Please understand that though disappointed we said "Okay...yes, when...today? Friday?" when....?" My midwife seemed surprised by our acceptance of this and proceeded to tell us that this is where OB's and Midwives differentiate on opinions. She asked us to hold on as she wanted to talk to the OB again (who was not in the office but she had to call). She stepped out of the room for a very long time, I have no idea what she said on that phone call all I can say is she came back in on that TUESDAY morning and said that the doctor wanted to see me on THURSDAY morning. In our heads this meant that even the OB did not deem a high enough risk of uterine rupture to warrant a repeat C-Section that day. The rest of the appointment was pleasant and ended with the midwife walking out saying "Who knows maybe you'll go into labor before then and you won't have to do a C-Section after all.?"
We (my husband and I) did not leave the doctor's office that day with any warnings that if I went into labor to come into the hospital right away, we didn't leave feeling like even the OB really saw a risk in uterine rupture but just that out of formality she recommended a C-Section. We didn't leave thinking "Oh my, if I go into labor they think the baby could die, or that my uterus will rupture." Because trust me, if we felt at all that we were endangering Katherine by staying pregnant for 2more days and possibly going into labor would kill her...we wouldn't have left the doctor's office that day and they wouldn't have let us leave either.
Part 4.......
We returned home, feeling like once again a doctor was strong arming us into an un-necessary c-section (which happens, a lot!) I called my doula and explained to her what had happened. She felt the same way as we did...what was the medical reason for a repeat C-Section? There wasn't one. I can not emphasize that more...there was NO MEDICAL REASON to have a repeat C-Section with Katherine. Gestational weight alone is not reason enough. My doula said my options were that I could wait to see the doctor on Thursday and just have the un-necessary c-section, that I could wait until thursday and hope that I go into labor on my own, or that I could try some natural ways to induce my own labor and hopefully have the baby by Thursday and avoid another un-necessary c-section. I took the night to talk things over with my husband and make a decision.
Now, here comes the part where everyone passes their "hindsight" judgement on me. I chose to try some "natural" ways to induce my own labor. I pass this same "hindsight" judgement upon myself every time i look back on it. I'm not surprised that others pass the same judgement on me too. I guess the biggest difference between the judgement I pass on myself is I know it is one passed in "hindsight", while others do not. It is always easier for us to look back on a situation and see all the "wrong" choices someone has made when the outcome of said choices is a negative one.
This particular day, Wednesday the 30th, I can never undo...I chose to induce my own labor. How does one even do that? Well, there are the old wives tales so to speak of castor oil, pineapples, and sex , but there is also a known herb that when labor is what you want to have and you are pregnant one would think taking it would be a good thing and many midwives offer it to their patients for that very purpose. I will not type the name of that herb I'm sure you could look it up and find it anyways. and you may even find yourself saying "hey I've used that." But after trying the old wives tales and feeling desperate I took a very small dose of said herb...I didn't even take the full dosage recommendation because i wanted to be extra cautious. I took the dose and about 2hrs later my labor started.
The following day I went back to my OB/Midwives office to discuss the results on my ultrasound. The midwife explained to me that Katherine was indeed a big baby and was estimating to be about 10 and 1/2 pounds and while the decision to have a repeat C-Section should not be based solely on gestational weight the OB wanted to go ahead and schedule the C-Section. Please understand that though disappointed we said "Okay...yes, when...today? Friday?" when....?" My midwife seemed surprised by our acceptance of this and proceeded to tell us that this is where OB's and Midwives differentiate on opinions. She asked us to hold on as she wanted to talk to the OB again (who was not in the office but she had to call). She stepped out of the room for a very long time, I have no idea what she said on that phone call all I can say is she came back in on that TUESDAY morning and said that the doctor wanted to see me on THURSDAY morning. In our heads this meant that even the OB did not deem a high enough risk of uterine rupture to warrant a repeat C-Section that day. The rest of the appointment was pleasant and ended with the midwife walking out saying "Who knows maybe you'll go into labor before then and you won't have to do a C-Section after all.?"
We (my husband and I) did not leave the doctor's office that day with any warnings that if I went into labor to come into the hospital right away, we didn't leave feeling like even the OB really saw a risk in uterine rupture but just that out of formality she recommended a C-Section. We didn't leave thinking "Oh my, if I go into labor they think the baby could die, or that my uterus will rupture." Because trust me, if we felt at all that we were endangering Katherine by staying pregnant for 2more days and possibly going into labor would kill her...we wouldn't have left the doctor's office that day and they wouldn't have let us leave either.
Part 4.......
We returned home, feeling like once again a doctor was strong arming us into an un-necessary c-section (which happens, a lot!) I called my doula and explained to her what had happened. She felt the same way as we did...what was the medical reason for a repeat C-Section? There wasn't one. I can not emphasize that more...there was NO MEDICAL REASON to have a repeat C-Section with Katherine. Gestational weight alone is not reason enough. My doula said my options were that I could wait to see the doctor on Thursday and just have the un-necessary c-section, that I could wait until thursday and hope that I go into labor on my own, or that I could try some natural ways to induce my own labor and hopefully have the baby by Thursday and avoid another un-necessary c-section. I took the night to talk things over with my husband and make a decision.
Now, here comes the part where everyone passes their "hindsight" judgement on me. I chose to try some "natural" ways to induce my own labor. I pass this same "hindsight" judgement upon myself every time i look back on it. I'm not surprised that others pass the same judgement on me too. I guess the biggest difference between the judgement I pass on myself is I know it is one passed in "hindsight", while others do not. It is always easier for us to look back on a situation and see all the "wrong" choices someone has made when the outcome of said choices is a negative one.
This particular day, Wednesday the 30th, I can never undo...I chose to induce my own labor. How does one even do that? Well, there are the old wives tales so to speak of castor oil, pineapples, and sex , but there is also a known herb that when labor is what you want to have and you are pregnant one would think taking it would be a good thing and many midwives offer it to their patients for that very purpose. I will not type the name of that herb I'm sure you could look it up and find it anyways. and you may even find yourself saying "hey I've used that." But after trying the old wives tales and feeling desperate I took a very small dose of said herb...I didn't even take the full dosage recommendation because i wanted to be extra cautious. I took the dose and about 2hrs later my labor started.
Katherine's story: Parts 1 and 2 of 6
My therapist has challenged me a lot lately to find ways to share Katherine's story. As I searched through old posts I thought that I had written it all out somewhere...and it turns out I haven't. I hate that I'm writing this right now. I feel as though I should be writing a post about my handsome son Killian...that I should be telling you all about his birth and how beautiful it was. I feel like I should be going into the details of how God redeemed so many birth moments by giving me the gift that is Killian. Yet, I don't think I've been able to do it because it just doesn't seem fair...I don't think I could rightfully paint Killian's birth story and how beautiful it was without first being willing to paint Katherine's. I once posted a statement on Facebook that I would like to share the heartbreaking pain more in order to help the beauty that has eventually come into my life shine all the more. But, I haven't always felt that people were ready.
There is much judgement made on parents today when they seem to be in "control" over a situation that involves their child. Somehow "hindsight" makes us all think that we would have made a different decision, that something horrific that happens to another person's child would have been avoided if we had been the parent instead... and unfortunately many have passed judgement onto me over Katherine's loss. Everyone becomes experts in labor and delivery, or as so exasperated by the news recently, experts on child wrangling in a public place. When the "unthinkable" becomes the reality that a parent experiences it is easy for those not involved to feel superior in their parenting skills. Unfortunately, this is nothing new. We all want to be on the receiving end of grace but are reluctant to extend it unconditionally.
Before I poor my heart out here anymore. Please know that I will probably always feel a level of guilt over Katherine's death. I am her mother, it was my job to bring her safely into this world and I will always feel like I failed her....because I did. It was my job to make the best decision for her and while all the statistics may point out that I was trying to do just that, and my doctors have all told me over and over and over again that there is "no possible way I could have known I would end up on the wrong end of a statistic" a part of me won't be able to accept that. Please know that while I relish to hear from other voices that "it wasn't my fault." The chances are that I will probably not be able to accept it as such. This is the pain that I live with day in and day out and is definitely a part of the reasons why my grief is still so very strong. How does a mother, who feels like she has played a roll in the death of her child, keep living? Only by God's grace. (please note I am not suicidal, I am still in therapy over all of this, and overall I am in a 'good' place. I only share that question because it is one that i have often asked myself many times and it's answer is often the thing that gives me strength to keep going.)
I've also split Katherine's story up in parts...because it is very, very, long and I"m sure most of you will not be able to read it all in one sitting so hopefully the parts will help you. I am choosing in this moment to be very vulnerable please be gracious to my broken heart. My family and I continue to move forward in healing in many different ways but Katherine will always be apart of our family. Her story exists and she matters.
Katherine's Story Part 1----------
I think we can all agree that there is something very beautiful about natural child birth. We see tasteful birth photography photos and we just inherently know that child birth is painfully beautiful. It is an "art" in many ways. How a woman can endure excruciating pain to deliver a full term, healthy, baby, and in an instance be relieved of that very pain that brought this child into the world is deemed a miracle even by many doctors. There are just some things in this world that even science can not fully explain.
We read story after story of women all over the world naturally delivering beautiful babies. We read all about the benefits that natural child birth actually is to mom and baby. From the moment a woman sees that those "blue lines" or reads the words "pregnant" on a stick we then slowly, or sometimes quickly, begin to research child birth. It is beautiful, wonderful, and glorious until it isn't....
I always felt like I "missed" out on the beauty of child birth. I never had a "water breaking " moment. Or the excitement of realizing I was in actual labor, that was up until Katherine. See my first was an induction mostly due to a miscalculated due date so my labor officially started in a hospital hooked up to an I.V. and laying in a hospital bed. My 2nd was a scheduled C-Section due to a doctor that, well, pressured me into it and made me feel like my child was going to die without it (he wouldn't have, I wasn't in labor, I had no prior complications, just an impatient doctor.)
There is a 4yr age gap between my 2nd and my Katherine. 4yrs is a long time to hear and read about beautiful natural child birth stories. 4yrs is a long time to do research after research and be told about the beauties of VBAC's (vaginal delivery after cesarean). It's a long time to come up with your first ever "birth plan" and to dream about the beauty of child birth you didn't get to experience the other times around. It's a long time to think, to pray, to have desires grow and stir into your heart. I wanted to experience "natural child birth." I bought into the "vaginal is best" movement, well because it really is...do a search about the benefits of vaginal child birth and you'll see it for yourself.
I was told over and over again that I was a great candidate for a VBAC "low lying bikini scar" check, "previous vaginal delivery" check, "no gestational diabetes or high blood pressure" check and check. Everything that I had read and researched indicated that a high gestational weight of baby was not in and of itself sufficient enough to decline a woman wanting to attempt a VBAC from attempting one. I had no reason to not attempt a VBAC at least not one sufficient enough even by the American Gynecological & Obstetrical Society. I had the desire, I had no medical reason to not attempt it and so I decided after much time and research to go ahead and do just that and I had a lot of support from many people as well. I even contacted a doula (birth assistant) to help ensure my successful VBAC. Oh how I wish i would have known i would become the 1-4% of women that suffer a uterine rupture. But as my doctors have said I couldn't have known...but many people feel like I should have...and maybe I should have.
Part 2................
I'll never forget the very last time I saw Katherine, alive, in my womb. It was Monday July 28th 2014 and my midwife wanted me to get a routine gestational weight estimate done on my Katherine. She was a big baby. I was measuring huge...I was 39 weeks along and measuring about 43. A weight estimate (which can be off by 1-2pds) was going to determine whether or not I would schedule a repeat C-Section (one that i wish I would have just scheduled that day) but midwives and OB's have differentiating opinions neither of which are fully right or wrong about. My last OB, numerous news stories, and documentaries, left me feeling distrustful of doctor's and believing that they really didn't have my or my baby's best interest in mind. I reluctantly agreed to the ultrasound that I knew was dooming my chances at having a "natural " labor. I am so very very glad I had that ultrasound.
In that that ultrasound I heard my sweet Katherine's heartbeat. I saw round chubby cheeks, and a baby that liked to suck her thumb. My other two children got to see their sister one final time "on a t.v." as they called it. They were so excited to be having a baby....they were beside themselves with joy and laughter and kept pointing at the "t.v." while running to sit by my bedside. The technician congratulated me, printed a picture off for me and sent me on my way.
While going to pick up my husband I received a call from the technician saying that a mistake had been made in the computer and I would need to come back that moment, if possible, to have it repeated. I picked up my husband from work and we went back to the hospital for the ultrasound again. It turns out that the error that was made was that the technician forgot to change my name on the ultrasound machine (the previous patience name was still typed in at the top) and therefore it was unable to be save to the system. This is why, humorously, the very last ultrasound picture I have of Katherine says that the mothers name is Jessica....I was not printed anymore pictures in that 2nd ultrasound because I had received ones in the prior one. In Katherine's remembrance box I have this ultrasound picture and it says Jessica Steven's at the top...I am convinced that sometimes people think I am lying about it being Katherine but I sure you it really is.
I remember being so happy, so hopeful, so full of joy. My baby girl was going to be in my arms in a matter of days or a week at the most. I'll never regret getting that ultrasound done. In fact, if I could, I would go back in time and ask to stay just a little bit longer.
There is much judgement made on parents today when they seem to be in "control" over a situation that involves their child. Somehow "hindsight" makes us all think that we would have made a different decision, that something horrific that happens to another person's child would have been avoided if we had been the parent instead... and unfortunately many have passed judgement onto me over Katherine's loss. Everyone becomes experts in labor and delivery, or as so exasperated by the news recently, experts on child wrangling in a public place. When the "unthinkable" becomes the reality that a parent experiences it is easy for those not involved to feel superior in their parenting skills. Unfortunately, this is nothing new. We all want to be on the receiving end of grace but are reluctant to extend it unconditionally.
Before I poor my heart out here anymore. Please know that I will probably always feel a level of guilt over Katherine's death. I am her mother, it was my job to bring her safely into this world and I will always feel like I failed her....because I did. It was my job to make the best decision for her and while all the statistics may point out that I was trying to do just that, and my doctors have all told me over and over and over again that there is "no possible way I could have known I would end up on the wrong end of a statistic" a part of me won't be able to accept that. Please know that while I relish to hear from other voices that "it wasn't my fault." The chances are that I will probably not be able to accept it as such. This is the pain that I live with day in and day out and is definitely a part of the reasons why my grief is still so very strong. How does a mother, who feels like she has played a roll in the death of her child, keep living? Only by God's grace. (please note I am not suicidal, I am still in therapy over all of this, and overall I am in a 'good' place. I only share that question because it is one that i have often asked myself many times and it's answer is often the thing that gives me strength to keep going.)
I've also split Katherine's story up in parts...because it is very, very, long and I"m sure most of you will not be able to read it all in one sitting so hopefully the parts will help you. I am choosing in this moment to be very vulnerable please be gracious to my broken heart. My family and I continue to move forward in healing in many different ways but Katherine will always be apart of our family. Her story exists and she matters.
Katherine's Story Part 1----------
I think we can all agree that there is something very beautiful about natural child birth. We see tasteful birth photography photos and we just inherently know that child birth is painfully beautiful. It is an "art" in many ways. How a woman can endure excruciating pain to deliver a full term, healthy, baby, and in an instance be relieved of that very pain that brought this child into the world is deemed a miracle even by many doctors. There are just some things in this world that even science can not fully explain.
We read story after story of women all over the world naturally delivering beautiful babies. We read all about the benefits that natural child birth actually is to mom and baby. From the moment a woman sees that those "blue lines" or reads the words "pregnant" on a stick we then slowly, or sometimes quickly, begin to research child birth. It is beautiful, wonderful, and glorious until it isn't....
I always felt like I "missed" out on the beauty of child birth. I never had a "water breaking " moment. Or the excitement of realizing I was in actual labor, that was up until Katherine. See my first was an induction mostly due to a miscalculated due date so my labor officially started in a hospital hooked up to an I.V. and laying in a hospital bed. My 2nd was a scheduled C-Section due to a doctor that, well, pressured me into it and made me feel like my child was going to die without it (he wouldn't have, I wasn't in labor, I had no prior complications, just an impatient doctor.)
There is a 4yr age gap between my 2nd and my Katherine. 4yrs is a long time to hear and read about beautiful natural child birth stories. 4yrs is a long time to do research after research and be told about the beauties of VBAC's (vaginal delivery after cesarean). It's a long time to come up with your first ever "birth plan" and to dream about the beauty of child birth you didn't get to experience the other times around. It's a long time to think, to pray, to have desires grow and stir into your heart. I wanted to experience "natural child birth." I bought into the "vaginal is best" movement, well because it really is...do a search about the benefits of vaginal child birth and you'll see it for yourself.
I was told over and over again that I was a great candidate for a VBAC "low lying bikini scar" check, "previous vaginal delivery" check, "no gestational diabetes or high blood pressure" check and check. Everything that I had read and researched indicated that a high gestational weight of baby was not in and of itself sufficient enough to decline a woman wanting to attempt a VBAC from attempting one. I had no reason to not attempt a VBAC at least not one sufficient enough even by the American Gynecological & Obstetrical Society. I had the desire, I had no medical reason to not attempt it and so I decided after much time and research to go ahead and do just that and I had a lot of support from many people as well. I even contacted a doula (birth assistant) to help ensure my successful VBAC. Oh how I wish i would have known i would become the 1-4% of women that suffer a uterine rupture. But as my doctors have said I couldn't have known...but many people feel like I should have...and maybe I should have.
Part 2................
I'll never forget the very last time I saw Katherine, alive, in my womb. It was Monday July 28th 2014 and my midwife wanted me to get a routine gestational weight estimate done on my Katherine. She was a big baby. I was measuring huge...I was 39 weeks along and measuring about 43. A weight estimate (which can be off by 1-2pds) was going to determine whether or not I would schedule a repeat C-Section (one that i wish I would have just scheduled that day) but midwives and OB's have differentiating opinions neither of which are fully right or wrong about. My last OB, numerous news stories, and documentaries, left me feeling distrustful of doctor's and believing that they really didn't have my or my baby's best interest in mind. I reluctantly agreed to the ultrasound that I knew was dooming my chances at having a "natural " labor. I am so very very glad I had that ultrasound.
In that that ultrasound I heard my sweet Katherine's heartbeat. I saw round chubby cheeks, and a baby that liked to suck her thumb. My other two children got to see their sister one final time "on a t.v." as they called it. They were so excited to be having a baby....they were beside themselves with joy and laughter and kept pointing at the "t.v." while running to sit by my bedside. The technician congratulated me, printed a picture off for me and sent me on my way.
While going to pick up my husband I received a call from the technician saying that a mistake had been made in the computer and I would need to come back that moment, if possible, to have it repeated. I picked up my husband from work and we went back to the hospital for the ultrasound again. It turns out that the error that was made was that the technician forgot to change my name on the ultrasound machine (the previous patience name was still typed in at the top) and therefore it was unable to be save to the system. This is why, humorously, the very last ultrasound picture I have of Katherine says that the mothers name is Jessica....I was not printed anymore pictures in that 2nd ultrasound because I had received ones in the prior one. In Katherine's remembrance box I have this ultrasound picture and it says Jessica Steven's at the top...I am convinced that sometimes people think I am lying about it being Katherine but I sure you it really is.
I remember being so happy, so hopeful, so full of joy. My baby girl was going to be in my arms in a matter of days or a week at the most. I'll never regret getting that ultrasound done. In fact, if I could, I would go back in time and ask to stay just a little bit longer.
Friday, December 11, 2015
Pregnancy after Loss...How I am feeling.
The other morning someone asked me if I was excited about the new baby we are expecting. I just kind of shamefully stared down at the floor trying to hold back my tears. I wanted to lie and say "Of course....I can't wait until the baby boy gets here." But I couldn't....all I could do was stare away and silently hope this well meaning, thoughtful, person wouldn't press for more details that my heart just couldn't give in that moment.
The truth is in that moment I was not feeling excited about this baby and that makes me feel so guilty.
I have moments, where I have joy, and hope, and encouragement, that maybe just maybe this baby and delivery will be all well but those moments are fleeting and sporadic. Rarely is it not followed by feelings of fear and dread. Not dread of holding a new baby, or of changing diapers, ect....but dread of not getting to do those things after all.
A part of my heart embraces every kick and movement of this tiny being that I feel...and then the other part of my heart holds its breath and silently waits for a tragedy to unfold and for me not to get to have this baby after all.
Pregnancy after loss is not an "easy" thing. So many of us pregnancy loss mommas in the early days of grief think "if only I could just get pregnant again.......If only I had another baby to hold....If only.....then I would feel better, then I might not ache so hard for the baby that I lost." When the opposite usually happens and we find our hearts aching more for the baby we lost and will never get back.
Oh and then the guilt, Oh what guilt I feel. If I'm not rejoicing over this new life I feel so guilty and I fear more that this baby will die because I'm not "rejoicing" enough. If I find myself "rejoicing" too much then I feel like I am making people think that my heart has "gotten over" my sweet Katherine and therefore she doesn't need to be remembered. If I find myself somewhere "stuck in the middle" between the two then I feel like my heart is just becoming numb, cold, and apathetic to all emotions. It just feels like there is "no winning".
The further along in the pregnancy that I get the more fear develops. Every muscle pain, every braxton hick contraction, even heart burn makes me wonder if I my body is failing my baby and I yet again. I live in a constant state between fear and surrender. The surrendering of my fear to a Sovereign God that knows what will or will not be...and doesn't allow me the privilege of seeing that far down the road.
A lot of people ask me how I am feeling. I don't want them to stop asking so please don't. I need to know that people are thinking about and praying for me. I guess I just want people to know that if you ask and I seem weird, or put off, by your question it isn't because you've said something wrong or have offended me...it's just because I don't know how to really answer that question. I feel a lot of different things all at once. Sick, nauseous, tired, emotional, sometimes excited, joyful, scared, hurt, sorrow, and even dread. Especially during this holiday season I find myself being less opened about what I am really feeling because there have been many tears lately and I do not wish to turn merry festivities into "debbie downer" moments.
So there you have it a bit of what I am feeling.
Side Note: Truthfully, I am only writing any of this out because my therapist said it is good to write what we are thinking and feeling about down because it helps our minds work through it better. Otherwise we can get stuck in a never ending cycle and putting it down helps with just that---putting it down.
The truth is in that moment I was not feeling excited about this baby and that makes me feel so guilty.
I have moments, where I have joy, and hope, and encouragement, that maybe just maybe this baby and delivery will be all well but those moments are fleeting and sporadic. Rarely is it not followed by feelings of fear and dread. Not dread of holding a new baby, or of changing diapers, ect....but dread of not getting to do those things after all.
A part of my heart embraces every kick and movement of this tiny being that I feel...and then the other part of my heart holds its breath and silently waits for a tragedy to unfold and for me not to get to have this baby after all.
Pregnancy after loss is not an "easy" thing. So many of us pregnancy loss mommas in the early days of grief think "if only I could just get pregnant again.......If only I had another baby to hold....If only.....then I would feel better, then I might not ache so hard for the baby that I lost." When the opposite usually happens and we find our hearts aching more for the baby we lost and will never get back.
Oh and then the guilt, Oh what guilt I feel. If I'm not rejoicing over this new life I feel so guilty and I fear more that this baby will die because I'm not "rejoicing" enough. If I find myself "rejoicing" too much then I feel like I am making people think that my heart has "gotten over" my sweet Katherine and therefore she doesn't need to be remembered. If I find myself somewhere "stuck in the middle" between the two then I feel like my heart is just becoming numb, cold, and apathetic to all emotions. It just feels like there is "no winning".
The further along in the pregnancy that I get the more fear develops. Every muscle pain, every braxton hick contraction, even heart burn makes me wonder if I my body is failing my baby and I yet again. I live in a constant state between fear and surrender. The surrendering of my fear to a Sovereign God that knows what will or will not be...and doesn't allow me the privilege of seeing that far down the road.
A lot of people ask me how I am feeling. I don't want them to stop asking so please don't. I need to know that people are thinking about and praying for me. I guess I just want people to know that if you ask and I seem weird, or put off, by your question it isn't because you've said something wrong or have offended me...it's just because I don't know how to really answer that question. I feel a lot of different things all at once. Sick, nauseous, tired, emotional, sometimes excited, joyful, scared, hurt, sorrow, and even dread. Especially during this holiday season I find myself being less opened about what I am really feeling because there have been many tears lately and I do not wish to turn merry festivities into "debbie downer" moments.
So there you have it a bit of what I am feeling.
Side Note: Truthfully, I am only writing any of this out because my therapist said it is good to write what we are thinking and feeling about down because it helps our minds work through it better. Otherwise we can get stuck in a never ending cycle and putting it down helps with just that---putting it down.
Thursday, December 3, 2015
What I lost when I lost my daughter....
The title will make this post seem like a depressive piece of writing and while I am sure there are and will be some aspects of sadness to it I can reassure you that, mostly, this post is a hopeful one. Hopeful because it wasn't until I fully began to grasp all that I lost when my daughter died that God was able to then lead my heart more fully deeper into healing. Some may recall the piece I wrote about healing months ago titled "Healing Hurts", you can click on that title and read it if you would like, but even though I knew it then I've come to realize more so now that this one layer I am about to reveal to you is just that...a layer that I have to take to Jesus and ask him to heal.
The other night my husband and I found ourselves venting about frustrations. Frustrations about ourselves, about life, about why Christians are the way that we are sometimes. I've learned that in the midst of venting my frustrations about people I also need to be going to the only one that can change the hearts of people. After all God is the only one that can make a blind man see, you could tell me till your blue in your face that I have a pride problem but unless God opens my heart to seeing that issue I'll never really see it....so I've learned to go to God with my frustrations. It sounds audacious to go to God and be all like "God, you NEED to change those peoples hearts!" ect ect ect...but I've also learned that it is often when I am voicing and praying about my frustrations of others that the Holy Spirit then pricks and prods my own heart to see my own failings and humbles me to then pray for my own change of heart as well. It was during such prayer time that God slowly, graciously, revealed to me part of what I lost when my Katherine died.
See, as a grieving parent I think it is easier for us to see the "obvious" things that we have lost by our children not being here. We've lost kisses, and bedtimes. We've lost hugs. We've lost birthdays, and milestones, and weddings. Graduations, play time at the park, snuggles on the couches. Laughter...and oh Joy...not the everyday joy and blessing that we get to have even though our babies are gone, but the joy that only would have been brought because of our child living. A joy I understand when I think about my living kiddos and all that their lives have brought to me....a joy that I know I have missed out on with Katherine. These are just some of the more "obvious" losses a parent has when it comes to a child's death. What is often harder for some of us to see, and or what takes, some of us longer to see, is other losses that we have had because of our child's death.
At some point in the loss journey process we remember what we "used" to be like before our child's death. We remember what it was like to be the joyful pregnant woman that believed that every pregnancy must end in a live birth. We remember what it was not to be afraid, to be excited, to be "living." Every parent of loss can describe a person that was before loss, and the one after. For some of us its harder to identify all those aspects of who we were before. For me, it has been difficult to identify....because I didn't think that much had really changed...except I was sad...a lot....I still had faith, I still went to church, I was still seeking God...i was just more sad....that was the obvious thing to me.
Now here's the part in my writing where I need to go "off track" so to speak. Just a little though but I promise I'll tie it back into the overall theme. I have an amazing friend named Heather. Seriously, she is amazing! This woman 7years ago befriended me. I remember she asked me 7-8x, maybe more, for me to come over and have lunch with her before I finally took her up on her offer. She always sought me out during Sunday mornings to say "Hi" and genuinely ask me how I was doing. She offered and she watched my babies for me more times that I can possibly count...and this woman who absolutely hates vomit-one night after my son had just been born- kept my daughter over night with her and let my daughter get sick on her all night long. Seriously, it was like 6hours of non stop 13month old vomit....When we lived in a little apartment with no washer and dryer, it was Heather that would come over, get my WHOLE families dirty laundry and wash it for me and bring it back folded. She would always be the first to listen, but also the first to admit her own failings and where she needed help at too....she prayed with me a lot. She has held me when I have cried. She has sent me cards, and taken me out, and just over all been a sister to me. She is amazing.
When it became apparent that we would be moving up to the Indy area, I knew that culturally things would be different than what I had grown accustomed too...but I was ready. I felt like God had spent 5years just teaching me, molding me, shaping me, growing me, and preparing me to go and be a "Heather" to a church where we were moving. And so I did my best to do just that. When we first moved to Indy we were helping a church plant in the area and I did my best to be a "Heather" to the other leaders in that church. When the leaders moved on and away...I was ready to be a "Heather" to the new church we were going to. I was willing to go around and put myself out, say "Hi" get to know people and not just stick to my own little pew....ect...I was ready...I felt ready....and then....then my baby died and all I wanted was my "Heather" back. I no longer wanted to be a "Heather" for anyone else.
Truthfully, I don't feel like this is entirely wrong. We all need our "Heather's" to help see us through the difficulties that can be life....but the desire to be a "Heather" towards others slowly just krept away...and in my pain and sorrow I just didn't want to do the hard work of being a "Heather". Because it is hard work to be a "Heather". I think about all that God has used my friend to do and minister to others in life and I go "that is hard work." I see the toll that her own sacrifices have taken on her heart and I go "that is hard work." It is hard work to be a "Heather" and it's hard not because Heather would say she is this amazing super woman...it's hard work because Heather seeks to live and serve in life the same ways that Jesus lived and served others. It is hard to work to trust and rest on the Lord to provide strength to love and give to others in the midst of the own chaos of our lives.
See when I lost Katherine, it wasn't just Katherine that Satan took away from me. Satan attacked me so hard and in such a way that he was trying to take away the very thing that made me a threat to him. Satan was trying to take away all the good work that God had done in me up to that point in my life. For the last 16months my prayers have often been to God "Don't let Satan undo the work that you have started in me...you promised you would finish it...so please help me to see you are still working." And slowly I've begun to hear the Spirit say to mine..."I won't....now you can't let Satan undo the work I've started in you either...keep fighting."
The other night while praying with my husband I fully grasped and understood what God has been telling me for a long time now. A voice that I have been wrestling against and not wanting to embrace...that it's time for me to go and be a "Heather" again. I can't get back Katherine while here on earth. One day I will be reunited with her. However, some of what Satan was trying to take away from me can and slowly be restored here on earth. My ability and desire to be "Heather" to others is one of those things...Keep praying for me friends..God isn't done with me yet. He's not done with you yet either....maybe, just maybe, he is calling you to be a "Heather" to someone too. It's hard work, my friend Heather could tell you, but the rewards are beautiful.
The other night my husband and I found ourselves venting about frustrations. Frustrations about ourselves, about life, about why Christians are the way that we are sometimes. I've learned that in the midst of venting my frustrations about people I also need to be going to the only one that can change the hearts of people. After all God is the only one that can make a blind man see, you could tell me till your blue in your face that I have a pride problem but unless God opens my heart to seeing that issue I'll never really see it....so I've learned to go to God with my frustrations. It sounds audacious to go to God and be all like "God, you NEED to change those peoples hearts!" ect ect ect...but I've also learned that it is often when I am voicing and praying about my frustrations of others that the Holy Spirit then pricks and prods my own heart to see my own failings and humbles me to then pray for my own change of heart as well. It was during such prayer time that God slowly, graciously, revealed to me part of what I lost when my Katherine died.
See, as a grieving parent I think it is easier for us to see the "obvious" things that we have lost by our children not being here. We've lost kisses, and bedtimes. We've lost hugs. We've lost birthdays, and milestones, and weddings. Graduations, play time at the park, snuggles on the couches. Laughter...and oh Joy...not the everyday joy and blessing that we get to have even though our babies are gone, but the joy that only would have been brought because of our child living. A joy I understand when I think about my living kiddos and all that their lives have brought to me....a joy that I know I have missed out on with Katherine. These are just some of the more "obvious" losses a parent has when it comes to a child's death. What is often harder for some of us to see, and or what takes, some of us longer to see, is other losses that we have had because of our child's death.
At some point in the loss journey process we remember what we "used" to be like before our child's death. We remember what it was like to be the joyful pregnant woman that believed that every pregnancy must end in a live birth. We remember what it was not to be afraid, to be excited, to be "living." Every parent of loss can describe a person that was before loss, and the one after. For some of us its harder to identify all those aspects of who we were before. For me, it has been difficult to identify....because I didn't think that much had really changed...except I was sad...a lot....I still had faith, I still went to church, I was still seeking God...i was just more sad....that was the obvious thing to me.
Now here's the part in my writing where I need to go "off track" so to speak. Just a little though but I promise I'll tie it back into the overall theme. I have an amazing friend named Heather. Seriously, she is amazing! This woman 7years ago befriended me. I remember she asked me 7-8x, maybe more, for me to come over and have lunch with her before I finally took her up on her offer. She always sought me out during Sunday mornings to say "Hi" and genuinely ask me how I was doing. She offered and she watched my babies for me more times that I can possibly count...and this woman who absolutely hates vomit-one night after my son had just been born- kept my daughter over night with her and let my daughter get sick on her all night long. Seriously, it was like 6hours of non stop 13month old vomit....When we lived in a little apartment with no washer and dryer, it was Heather that would come over, get my WHOLE families dirty laundry and wash it for me and bring it back folded. She would always be the first to listen, but also the first to admit her own failings and where she needed help at too....she prayed with me a lot. She has held me when I have cried. She has sent me cards, and taken me out, and just over all been a sister to me. She is amazing.
When it became apparent that we would be moving up to the Indy area, I knew that culturally things would be different than what I had grown accustomed too...but I was ready. I felt like God had spent 5years just teaching me, molding me, shaping me, growing me, and preparing me to go and be a "Heather" to a church where we were moving. And so I did my best to do just that. When we first moved to Indy we were helping a church plant in the area and I did my best to be a "Heather" to the other leaders in that church. When the leaders moved on and away...I was ready to be a "Heather" to the new church we were going to. I was willing to go around and put myself out, say "Hi" get to know people and not just stick to my own little pew....ect...I was ready...I felt ready....and then....then my baby died and all I wanted was my "Heather" back. I no longer wanted to be a "Heather" for anyone else.
Truthfully, I don't feel like this is entirely wrong. We all need our "Heather's" to help see us through the difficulties that can be life....but the desire to be a "Heather" towards others slowly just krept away...and in my pain and sorrow I just didn't want to do the hard work of being a "Heather". Because it is hard work to be a "Heather". I think about all that God has used my friend to do and minister to others in life and I go "that is hard work." I see the toll that her own sacrifices have taken on her heart and I go "that is hard work." It is hard work to be a "Heather" and it's hard not because Heather would say she is this amazing super woman...it's hard work because Heather seeks to live and serve in life the same ways that Jesus lived and served others. It is hard to work to trust and rest on the Lord to provide strength to love and give to others in the midst of the own chaos of our lives.
See when I lost Katherine, it wasn't just Katherine that Satan took away from me. Satan attacked me so hard and in such a way that he was trying to take away the very thing that made me a threat to him. Satan was trying to take away all the good work that God had done in me up to that point in my life. For the last 16months my prayers have often been to God "Don't let Satan undo the work that you have started in me...you promised you would finish it...so please help me to see you are still working." And slowly I've begun to hear the Spirit say to mine..."I won't....now you can't let Satan undo the work I've started in you either...keep fighting."
The other night while praying with my husband I fully grasped and understood what God has been telling me for a long time now. A voice that I have been wrestling against and not wanting to embrace...that it's time for me to go and be a "Heather" again. I can't get back Katherine while here on earth. One day I will be reunited with her. However, some of what Satan was trying to take away from me can and slowly be restored here on earth. My ability and desire to be "Heather" to others is one of those things...Keep praying for me friends..God isn't done with me yet. He's not done with you yet either....maybe, just maybe, he is calling you to be a "Heather" to someone too. It's hard work, my friend Heather could tell you, but the rewards are beautiful.
Monday, November 16, 2015
What happens when your still born baby doesn't make the news?
October was pregnancy and infant loss awareness month...as such and appropriately so, more stories of miscarriages, still births, and infant loss made the news. Even the "regular" baby loss forums were featuring more stories. These stories are very touching and they deserved to be shared but as a Mommy that has had her own still born birth I am often left with feeling a bit of jealousy and envy. I know this is completely selfish, ridiculous, and totally not what I want to be admitting but it is true. There is a part of me that reads these stories and thinks "What was so special about their baby- that isn't just as special about mine- that their baby gets to be on the news and be known to the world?"
It honestly pains me to be this brutally honest because I don't want to admit that grief is selfish. My grief is selfish. See, as a parent of a still born baby, I often feel like people have forgotten about our Katherine...that people have forgotten about our loss, have forgotten that we still grieve over the fact that our would be 15month old is not here with us today. See, I believe that when others see other 15 and 16month old babies they don't think of sweet Katherine too.....why would they? In the midst of feeling like Katherine had been forgotten I read articles where it is obvious that these other baby had not been forgotten and I got jealous. Why was their baby so much more important to both the people around them and to the publishing company than mine was to the people around her?
I think the more painful reality that set in to me is the fact that most of the articles the people have found a "purpose" for their losses, they've been able to go on and honor the lives of their babies in extremely significant and profound ways, and then I felt like, here's me....I don't feel like God is going to start some amazingly profound foundation out of our loss, most of the time I don't even feel like Katherine's short but beautiful life has touched any ones but her own mother, father, brother and sister and a very few close friends. Making matters worse is sometimes I feel the "pressure" to find the "purpose" to start something amazing, to not let my daughter's life be wasted that I think I must be failing at the whole grieving process. So I feel like I'm left here grieving, in silence, and completely on my own. I'm looking for a voice but find that I have none....at least none of significance...And without a voice I often feel like my daughter had no purpose...
BUT and please hear the huge BUT what I have realized since writing the above is that every baby IS important because they existed. They did in fact live even if no one else in the world ever hears about it or recognizes that fact. Even if you and just a few close intimate friends and family are the only ones that ever remember and acknowledge your babies existence and importance God still hears your cries, your aches, and your echos just as much as he does those that have made the evening news, and or that have started the much needed foundations, and programs.
I would also like to say that a parents desire for others to "know" their child is normal. Every parent is proud of the life that they had a hand in making. It is okay for those of us whose baby or babies will never make the evening news to still long for the others to cry out with us that even our babies existed and mattered. But let us keep in mind that what is great about the articles, stories, programs , and foundations is they are echoing the very same things that those of us whose babies don't make the evening news are crying out...that EVERY baby matters.
So, while I can't say I won't ever be envious and jealous again when I read another article about how one persons loss and baby is changing the world. I can say that I can still rejoice that change is indeed taking place. We don't all get to be the "spokesman" but we all still play a roll in changing how the world views infant loss and the heart of all our messages is still the same....that is that EVERY baby matters. Mine, yours, the infant on the evening news, and the countless miscarriages that no one ever hears about....all our babies matter.
It honestly pains me to be this brutally honest because I don't want to admit that grief is selfish. My grief is selfish. See, as a parent of a still born baby, I often feel like people have forgotten about our Katherine...that people have forgotten about our loss, have forgotten that we still grieve over the fact that our would be 15month old is not here with us today. See, I believe that when others see other 15 and 16month old babies they don't think of sweet Katherine too.....why would they? In the midst of feeling like Katherine had been forgotten I read articles where it is obvious that these other baby had not been forgotten and I got jealous. Why was their baby so much more important to both the people around them and to the publishing company than mine was to the people around her?
I think the more painful reality that set in to me is the fact that most of the articles the people have found a "purpose" for their losses, they've been able to go on and honor the lives of their babies in extremely significant and profound ways, and then I felt like, here's me....I don't feel like God is going to start some amazingly profound foundation out of our loss, most of the time I don't even feel like Katherine's short but beautiful life has touched any ones but her own mother, father, brother and sister and a very few close friends. Making matters worse is sometimes I feel the "pressure" to find the "purpose" to start something amazing, to not let my daughter's life be wasted that I think I must be failing at the whole grieving process. So I feel like I'm left here grieving, in silence, and completely on my own. I'm looking for a voice but find that I have none....at least none of significance...And without a voice I often feel like my daughter had no purpose...
BUT and please hear the huge BUT what I have realized since writing the above is that every baby IS important because they existed. They did in fact live even if no one else in the world ever hears about it or recognizes that fact. Even if you and just a few close intimate friends and family are the only ones that ever remember and acknowledge your babies existence and importance God still hears your cries, your aches, and your echos just as much as he does those that have made the evening news, and or that have started the much needed foundations, and programs.
I would also like to say that a parents desire for others to "know" their child is normal. Every parent is proud of the life that they had a hand in making. It is okay for those of us whose baby or babies will never make the evening news to still long for the others to cry out with us that even our babies existed and mattered. But let us keep in mind that what is great about the articles, stories, programs , and foundations is they are echoing the very same things that those of us whose babies don't make the evening news are crying out...that EVERY baby matters.
So, while I can't say I won't ever be envious and jealous again when I read another article about how one persons loss and baby is changing the world. I can say that I can still rejoice that change is indeed taking place. We don't all get to be the "spokesman" but we all still play a roll in changing how the world views infant loss and the heart of all our messages is still the same....that is that EVERY baby matters. Mine, yours, the infant on the evening news, and the countless miscarriages that no one ever hears about....all our babies matter.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)