After opening Christmas presents wtih Mike, I was getting ready to jump in the shower before my parents came over to follow us to the family gathering and decided to use the pregnancy test I was saving for the new year. I was late, but that wasn't unusual, I've never been regular. But I decided it might be interesting to find out on a holiday. The digital read out said "PREGNANT".
I didnt' want to hold out hope that it was true but I couldn't help it. I thought it would be the most amazing Christmas gift. I could feel myself growing anxious and wanting to know for sure that it wasn't a mistake.
I called out to Mike to ask him to go to the store and he wanted to know why. I went and found him in another room and told him to go buy me another pregnancy test to be sure this one was correct. He was shocked, to put it in simple terms. I know it wasn't what he was expecting to hear. He said he didn't quite understand (it's not like our bedroom is constantly rocking with his work schedule) but I figured it must have been when we had spent a few days at the Disneyland Resort for our first anniversary in November (turns out I was right). He came back with a different brand of test (at my request) and of course, that one was positive as well. He started to show more enthusiasm as the day went on.
The first people to find out were my "sisters", the girls I've grown up with through most of my life. They were only told because they guessed it and I didn't want to lie about it. I then wrapped the tests like a Christmas present and presented them to my parents, telling them it was mostly a visual present since I wanted to keep them. Plenty of hugs and screaming and "I told you so's". At the family gathering that evening we pulled Mike's parents out of the house (almost as difficult as pulling teeth) Mike told them "Rabbit died." It took longer than we thought for them to get it but then his mom screamed and cried. The "rabbit died" phrase is apparently a reference to a test people used to do by injecting a woman's urine into a rabbit and if the rabbit died then the woman was pregnant. It went back to when I actually had rabbits as pets and one of them died and Mike told his dad, he thought we were telling him I was pregnant. We thought they would catch on this time, but it took them a while. Mike pulled his older brother aside to tell him and I asked if I could tell his younger brother. As we were leaving to go home, I came up with a short little poem and texted it to his phone. He read it but all he said was "I know." He thought I was talking about our aunt who was already expecting. It didn't click. I guess someone finally explained it to him later.
We told everyone else gradually, mostly all family after my first OB appointment. We wanted to make sure everything was on track before sharing the news. By the time of my first appointment I was already 8 weeks along. So I had been right, our baby was conceived at Disney's Grand Californian Hotel. I hadn't realized the ill feelings I'd had while I was getting ready for work was actually morning sickness! I thought I just really hated my job that much. And I thought the weight gain was just yummy holiday treats adding up.
At my appointment with the high-risk OB (for measurements) we got to hear the most beautiful and amazing sound in the world, our baby's heartbeat. That sound became like a drug, I wanted to hear it all the time. I was constantly looking forward to my appointments.
By the 25th of January, I got really sick but I survived on cough drops and a single dose of tylenol to bring my fever down. The doctor offered to write my a prescription but I declined. I was terrified of taking any kind of drugs. What started out as our "Smudge" started to grow and we could finally start to see something slightly resembling a body shape. I was constantly urging the baby to be a girl at that point. The change from 8 weeks to 9 weeks was phenomenal.
I wore my first maternity outfit on Valentine's day. We were going to Disneyland (mainly to walk around and watch the fireworks) and I wanted to be comforable. It was just a stretchy tunic (actually a nighty from WalMart) and leggings and a sweater. We'd stopped at Target before heading out and a woman stopped us in the parking lot to ask for money to feed her kids and wished us a Happy Valentine's Day and when I turned around she also wished the baby a Happy Valentine's Day. I was very surprised. It was the first time a stranger had called out the fact that I was pregnant.
As it got closer to the appointment for our sonogram, people kept telling me the baby was a boy but I still had a strong feeling we were having a girl. When I'd first heard the heart beat, my mind immediately jumped to girl. I even had flipped a penny and two out of three said it was a girl. I know it could have been a coincidence, but since I wanted a girl, I was happy.
By the end of February, I was quite sick again. I did the same routine of cough drops and lots and lots of rest. I still don't understand how I got so severely sick without leaving the house. My only guess is that some virus clung to Mike at work and came home with him.
On March 8, 2011 I went in for a full anatomy scan ultrasound. The technician asked if I'd drank the directed amount of water and I said yes, and she told me to wait in the waiting room for about ten minutes for it to settle. Ten minutes hadn't passed before she called us back into the room. I laid down again and my doctor came in. The technician pointed at the screen and I thought, "Oh, it's a boy. Oh well, that's ok." But then she sat down and the technician left and she said that there was no heartbeat. I knew she wasn't joking, I knew it was for real, and I asked her "What now?" She said that there might have been a cord accident, they couldn't really tell and that I would have to be admitted into the hospital soon to induce labor because my body hadn't yet rejected the baby. I finally started crying at that and we were moved to another room. When she came in again I asked her when I would go to the hospital she said whenever I was ready. I decided to go that night. I wanted the baby out. I had already grown to love it so much, I couldn't imagine carrying the lifeless little body inside me and developing some kind of emotional attachment to it. So she alerted the hospital I would be coming that evening.
Leaving the doctor's office, I didn't make it down the stairs before crying again. My OB's office is right next to a pediatrician's office (probably for convenience, but at a time like that, it just added to the heartbreak), and I heard a child ask, "Why is she crying?" The mother just hushed them and took them away.
Trying to tell our parents was difficult. My mother made me so angry with her "I didn't know how to tell you." She gets "feelings" and such, but that wasn't what I needed to hear, it was something she never should have said, and to this day I'm still angry about it. Even if your "feelings" are right, they aren't helpful, don't mention them. When we tried to tell Mike's parents, no one was home. I know that made it harder for him.
When I got home, Mike left to go and tell the rest of his family. I answered a few text messages and then turned off my phone for days. One of the responses was "OMG, are you kidding?!" I know I have a warped sense of humor, but do my friends really think I would joke about my baby's death? I guess I'll never know. I showered and dressed and cried the whole time, hating my body for failing so miserably.
In the hospital, I had very caring staff taking care of me. Even though the circumstances weren't what I was expecting to be forced to deal with, I'm glad Corona Regional was the hospital handling everything. Their bedside manner (from all but one nurse) helped my anxiety. The first time they inserted my epidural, it didn't work properly. It had to be removed and reinserted. Even then, it still didn't work as expected, the numbness only switched sides, from right to left. By the time to push came around, I could feel everything on the right side of my body. As soon as I was in labor, I couldn't stop crying. This wasn't how I wanted to bring my child into the world. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. Women are supposed to go into the hospital, get a needle and tube pushed into their back, push and scream, and then hold a smooshed-faced, screaming bundle of life. I knew I wasn't going to have that. I wasn't going to be able to give that to my husband. When they removed her and the doctor used a cutterage (I didn't have a D&C but I still had to cleaned out) I could feel every painful scrape he made. Normally I'm able to prevent tears of pain, but I couldn't this time. I just screamed and moaned and the nurse asked me if I could feel it. All I could do was nod.
Mike asked the doctor what the baby would have been. Doctor Emeruwa examined the tiny body and pointed out the anatomy and said she was a girl. I renewed my crying fit. I had known all along she was a girl, I had wanted a daughter so badly and I'd ruined everything. I'd failed at something all women were just expected to be able to do. I had been unsure of whether or not to see her but I decided that I'd rather see her at that point than to regret never having looked at her at all. It turns out I've never regretted that decision. Mike held her while I touched her perfect tiny hand and feet. He and my mom took pictures and I have them in the photo book the hospital gave me. I told Mike that I didn't want to name the baby, but if it was what he needed, then he should choose the baby's name. Her name is Robin Lynn.
I was able to go home later that day, but I still had to wait around to make sure I would stop bleeding. I needed help to the bathroom the first time and the nurse that was covering during my regular nurse's lunch break wasn't very used to these kinds of situations. She asked me, "Do you know what you would have had?" I was hurt to the core that she would say something like that. I just said, "I had a daughter." She didn't speak to me again.
Leaving the hospital was awful. The hospital gave me a little box with a teddy bear and some other small things so that I wouldn't go home "empty handed". But really, nothing can replace the feeling of a warm baby in your arms. I hadn't realized it being admitted, but leaving, I saw the infant ward was right at the entrance/exit of the maternity ward. Being wheeled past that window full of babies knocked the wind out of me. I knew my baby wasn't in there, and she wasn't with me, I wanted to be wherever she was now.
At home, Mike had to make me food which guilted me into eating. He took two weeks off work. I continued to bleed at home and have severe cramps, but the pain medication didn't help. And I kept ruminating on what had happened to that little body. For once, my mother stuck her nose where it needed to be. She called the hospital on her own to find out exactly that. The hospital put a hold on her body while giving my mom the options we had. She then called Mike to apologize for what she'd done and let him know what they had told her. He called the hospital and found out further information and then came to talk to me about it. I told him I wanted her at home with us. So we made arrangement with Walker Family Funeral Services that were located across the street from the hospital. I will be forever grateful for meeting some of the most compassionate people the world has ever known. We arranged for our daughter to be cremated, and they personally delivered her urn to our home.
Her body now rests on a shelf dedicated to her in our bedroom. As for her spirit, I personally hope she got/took another chance at giving some other family the best joy they've ever known.
For a while I tried to get through my grief alone. I reevaluated my faith and came out a much different person. I read books and let myself cry. But I realized that I just didn't know how to be ok anymore. I found a program that put people in touch with others that have also suffered a loss via email. It helped me so much. I was paired with a woman who's history was different but her outlook on life was very similar. I needed help very much, and she got me to a point where I don't need that constant reassurance or shoulder to cry on. Now it's time to try again, to give Robin a little sister or brother. And my support friend is trying again as well, so I still have that someone to go to when I feel no one else will understand. I will still cry and I will still talk about my first daughter, and yes, we will tell any future children about their sister. Because she did exist, and no baby will replace her. She showed us what we were missing and how much we need to appreciate it. Our daughter changed our lives in her few short weeks, and no matter how much time passes, we will always remember Robin.
