Losing my baby was
one of the greatest pains I ever had to endure. This is his story and
ours.
Alex was a ‘planned’
baby. My now ex-husband and I waited six years before trying to conceive
him. We wanted to be ready, both financially and emotionally. At first
we weren't seriously trying, but one month I was a whole week late,
and I became anxious, so I went and bought a book on how to conceive.
The first time we put the book to use it worked!! We were so excited!!
The whole
pregnancy was like a little miracle for both of us, we were
so happy! It was a miracle the first time we felt the bump in my stomach,
the first time we heard the heartbeat and the first time we felt him
move.
Never once we were
told that 33% of all pregnancies never make it, not from the doctor,
or nurses, nor from the childbirth instructor. We were led to believe
that we would have a healthy child with absolute no danger. I was due
Feb. 26th 1995, and everything was going great, it was such an uneventful
pregnancy, I was never sick a day, never spotted. I worked through my
37th week and then went on maternity leave. My mom arrived from Italy
to help me with the baby on February 21st, and that day we went to hear
the heartbeat, it was loud and clear, very strong. We made an appointment
for March 1st...in case I was still pregnant, and the doctor reassured
me that she wouldn't let me be more than one week late. That week with
my mom here after not seeing her for 2 years, we did many things, and
I must admit I must have not paid too much attention on how often the
baby kicked. On February 22 I started going into labor, the contractions
were 20 minutes apart, but they stopped. February 23rd, after dinner,
the baby kicked me real good, I will never forget that because it was
the last time I vividly remember him moving. On Saturday, February 25th,
the day before I was due, while trying to go to sleep I noticed that
the baby was not moving. Come to think of it I did not remember him
move at all that day. Then I felt something...now I know that ‘something’
was nothing because I felt that same thing when I already knew he was
gone. However, at the time it reassured me that it was the ‘calm
before the storm.' Sunday came and went, I remember he ‘weighed’
on me, I kept feeling for him to move, but nothing. I expressed my concerns
to my mom, but she said that babies just don’t move much at the
very end, there is no room. Monday morning first thing I was on the
phone with the doctor’s office. The nurse said to me: "Yes,
babies don’t move much at the very end, but, if it’ll make
you feel better, why don’t you come in and listen to the heartbeat?"
At that point I was not worried anymore, I don’t know why, I took
my time to get ready, then my mom and I headed to the doctor’s
office.
I will never forget
what the doctor said while she placed the Doppler on my stomach: "Common
Kido, don’t worry your mom!" Both the nurse and my mom were
talking to me, actually I was translating back and forth while the doctor
must have searched for that heartbeat for a few minutes. I noticed that
she a hard time finding it, but I refused to believe there was anything
wrong. She then asked the nurse to bring in the ultrasound
machine, at that point we were all staring at a baby that wasn't moving,
no heartbeat, no nothing. My mind kept racing...I am sure there is an
explanation for this! The doctor after a while said: "I am afraid
I don’t have very good news." She went around and around showing
me where the baby’s heart was, and there was no mistake, he was
dead. My poor mom could not believe it, I was in complete shock... How
could this happen? What could possibly cause a baby to die at full term?
I never heard of such event. The doctor could not give me any answers,
she said we would have to wait to see the baby before a reason could
be determined. The nurse accompanied my mother and I to the perinatal
office where they have more sophisticated Ultrasound machines to confirm
what they called ‘fetal demise’--how I hated that word. Alex
was full term, he was far from a fetus.
They sent me home to
talk to Nick, and to decide what to do, only thing, Nick was at work.
So that’s where I went. I remember waiting for him at the receptionist
desk, I had no idea what I was going to say to break the news. He came
down the corridor with a big, big smile on his face, he thought we came
to visit him to go to lunch together, but his expression turned quickly
once he saw my face. He was worried instantly. "What’s wrong?
Tell me what’s wrong?" I rambled something to go outside with
me and once there I told him that the doctors couldn't find the heartbeat,
the baby was dead. "Why?? How?". Answers I didn’t know,
what they told me at the perinatal office is that at this late stage
it was most likely a cord accident, but we would have to wait. That
was most likely the worse day of my life, I shed more tears that day
than the previous ten years combined. Nick went home with me, and from
there we called the doctor to schedule an induction. I would have to
wait that whole day and that following night before I could go in. I
was in labor for 18.5 hours, 3.5 of those pushing, it seemed like 
such
a cruel joke, all of that pain for nothing. My mother, my husband and
my best friend were all there to witness the ‘birth’. When
he was born the doctor told me that Alex had the cord around his neck,
which made it obvious it was a cord accident.
The love that followed the birth of my child exceeded my greatest
expectations. It was still a wonder to give birth to him, and when I
first saw him I still smiled. What a way to find out what a mother’s
love is all about. Somehow for those few hours I spent with Alex I couldn’t
cry. I was in such an elated state to finally see him, comparing features
with ours, and I was so proud. I would have done anything to hear him
cry, ANYTHING!! I was numb but very sad. Tears would not come until
later, and they were flowing like a river.
Picking out a cemetery
plot and casket was extremely hard for me, I was devastated this could
have happened at all. It’s been a few months since my baby’s
death, and I must say I feel a little better about it. I followed everyone’s
advice to grieve and cry anytime I wanted to. So now, when I think of
Alex I think of him with lots of love from my heart instead of that
excruciating pain I used to feel. Not that I do not shed a tear for
him every now and then, but it’s a tear from my heart, I will always
miss him. He is now my little angel in heaven. He taught me a lot about
life without even crying once.
That's
how I ended the story in the fall of 1995, but there was more to Alex's
death that we knew at the time.
When his little brother Nicky was born
with Epidermolysis
Bullosa (EB), it was almost obvious that Alex had the same thing.
One Dr. with EB experience told me that EB fetuses are more likely to
be stillborn (and miscarried) than a healthy baby... although he couldn't
tell me why.
Alex had a lot of skin
missing and peeling, quite a bit more and the same as an EB patient.
He had been dead for several days, and it is normal for stillborn babies
to lose their skin whether they have EB or not, but I am yet to see
a photo of another stillborn baby that looked quite like Alex skinwise.
We will never know
for sure what exactly killed him, if it was a cord accident like we
assumed at the time, or the EB. Of course, for us, it is extremely hard
to think that Alex was healthy. It is perhaps better that we'll never
know for sure.
