The next few hours were really long. Most of the nurses left to let us be for a while. We called our doula, Brooke, and she headed straight over. She cried with us and held space for us. Helped us understand what was most likely to come next and didn’t leave our side for the next 24+ hours. I’m so grateful for her support not only through labor and delivery but also through our loss and everyday since. After she got there the nurses came and asked questions and filled us in on the steps we were required to take before Huxley was born. She helped us get info for a funeral home, set up someone to come take pictures and then we had to make a bunch of decisions for Huxley that we weren’t prepared for. I just remember the list of questions being quite long but don’t remember the actual questions themselves. The nurses were amazing and said at any moment we could take a break and come back to the questions but it was almost easier to just plow through them. If I stopped and started too many times it would have just broken me down through my core and I still needed the strength and energy to birth Huxley. Not to mention some sort of mindset that said “I can do this” even though every fiber of me said I can’t.
With Brooke there and some time to comprehend what was happening we called our parents. Phone calls I will never forget. I didn’t want to tell them because I didn’t want to be the person to break their hearts. But it had to come from us. We didn’t want anyone else doing it. I remember every word and how each word sounded and felt coming out for each call. I covered my face as I told each of them as if I were ashamed to have lost my baby. I knew it wasn’t my fault and they weren’t going to blame me but still there was shame in having to admit our loss. Then we text or called a few close friends, our pastor, and Billy informed his boss what was happening.
Then we waited for my doctor to make it in after they informed her too. It took some time but when she walked in she immediately cried with us. She hugged us and then my doctor, our doula, and both Billy and I talked about what was next. I still had to birth him. My original plan was as natural as possible and since I needed to be induced we would try other options before pitocin and move from there. But after you lose your baby full term, the pull for going in for a cesarean is really strong. She assured me the choice was mine and she’d help me in any way I requested. So the four of us laid out the options and everyone was truthfully on my side and reminding me I could do this any which way and I would be strong enough to handle it and no way meant I was weak. So I went ahead with my normal plan. Natural birth as a vbac trial and the fewest interventions we could manage with the exception of going ahead with pitocin to move things along. I was torn between starting and waiting. At this point it had been a few hours, they were just waiting for me to say go. I wasn’t quite ready yet.
How is a mother suppose to labor and deliver her sleeping baby with strength, dignity, and courage when every affirmation I practiced told me I could do this because it would bring my baby into my arms. Every pain would bring him closer. I would soon meet him and hear him and get to take him home with me. I would get to start my life with him in it. The reality was, every pain took him further away from me. It was one pain closer to him being gone forever. It was a moment closer to accepting this new reality. I was in this difficult place of wanting to keep him in my womb and as close to me as possible. Not having to share him or leave him. I could keep him “safe” and away from this world or maybe it was to keep ME safe from the reality of this day. But the other part of me wanted to see him fully and wanted to give Billy the chance to hold his son and share all the moments we could together with Huxley and our older two as best we could. Then there was this third part of me that said I can’t hold this death in me any longer. It’s killing me. Spiritually and emotionally and mentally it was overwhelming me. Thankfully natural labor took progression and I didn’t have to make the decision of when. This allowed me to give the go everyone needed to start their part in delivering Huxley and we started the official induction without much other choice.
Before I labored too intensely my mom, step dad, and dad all came to see us, many nurses stopped by to give their condolences and gifts even, our pastor came to pray, and even my husbands boss and the base chaplain came to pray as well. A bereavement doula dropped off a gift and some extra information for us to help with everything we would encounter later as well. And honestly I’m not sure if others came by. I can’t remember everything in this period of time, I’ve ask for Billy and others to fill in gaps for my memory but I was quite occupied with many emotions and a lot of work ahead of me so just know if I didn’t mention you and you came- I appreciate it and if you came but weren’t allowed in to see us until later please know that I asked for some peace and it seemed as though I would need it with what was to come. They stopped allowing people in at my request and now just kept it at the intended limit of people in the room for delivery. At this point labor was strong and constant but I was doing well. Surprisingly, I was holding it together. Billy was holding it together. Brooke was there at our side praying and encouraging us and helping keep visitors updated and explaining some of the medical terminology to us all. My doctor was around more often than expected and working with us every step and keeping us informed with what the action steps could look like at every turn. There were many turns too. It felt like we were being thrown about back and forth in a terrible storm.
Even Morse Sweetly 