I thought that when Dr. Leigh told us it looked like the end was near at our Tuesday appointment that we possibly had another month with her. I didn't know that when she moved us to weekly appointments to monitor her heartbeat, that we would find out on our very next appointment the next Tuesday that her heart had stopped.
Maybe it was wishful thinking....
I had made the decision to stop updating my blog about our appointments and instead sent out email updates. I had packed my overnight bag. I had filled out my FMLA paper work. I made sure the camera was charged. I bought a new nightgown. I feverishly finished sewing Gemma's quilt. It just had to be finished before we lost her. We finally sat the girls down and told them that little Gemma Hope was sick and we might loose her. This broke my heart more than anything.
Dr. Leigh had kept us waiting a little, while she finished with her other patients. I mentioned to her that I had been itching like crazy. That I wanted to rip off all the clothes. She thought I might have colestasis. She could test me and give me a pill or delivery me. I new there was a risk she would have to delivery me before Gemma's heart stopped. I was at risk for getting many conditions including mirror syndrome as a result of her condition. I felt lucky to have been so healthy to this point. She wanted to check the heart beat before she made a decision. As she was prepping the ultra sound machine she mentioned that she almost called us over the weekend to see if we wanted to come in for a check. Really? I was confused but glad she didn't because we had a wonderful relaxing weekend with family. We had a great time and took the last pictures of pregnant me that I would own.
I lay there as she scans my belly and then she says "If her heart was beating you would see it right here." as she circled the wand over a blank space that had no movement at all. We both just stared waiting for her little heart to beat, hoping that she was just looking in the wrong place. She arranged for us to have a confirmation ultrasound next door. As we waited I lay there trying with all my might not to start freaking out and crying like crazy. My emotions felt like a ping pong ball bouncing off the walls in that tiny office. Here we go! This is what I have been trying to prepare myself for the past 5 months.
We waited outside of the office waiting for them to call us in for the second ultra sound. My head is resting on Destry's shoulder and I have tears in my eyes and there is a woman across from us talking loudly on her cell phone. Loudly proclaiming that she needs to get an appointment to get her bangs trimmed. That is when I got my first taste of it. My first taste of what it feels like when the world keeps going on around you, when your world has just crashed at your feet. I can still feel what it felt like to imagine jumping up and grabbing her phone and screaming "It doesn't matter! I just found out my baby died! Who cares about your stupid hair! Just shut up!" I didn't, I just sat there with tears in my eye's.
We were called back and asked if a student could sit in on our appointment. I thought, Why the hell not? We watch the screen again and I sobbed. I had to apologize as I tried to calm myself so my belly would not shutter. For just the briefest second I thought I saw movement on the screen and made a noise of shock. Just as fast I realized I saw nothing.
Dr. Leigh met with us in her office. Where she arranged for us to check in to the hospital either that night or the next morning. I remember the look on her face when we explained that the next morning was our wedding anniversary. Our second wedding anniversary. I wanted to wait until Friday so we could make sure that she was the one to delivery me. We decided together that it was important to meet our baby in the best condition possible. We went home and called our family and friends. Got some sleep and checked in to the hospital the next morning.
We arrived at the hospital at 6:30 am on 10-10-12 and they were expecting us. We got settled, me in my gown and slippers, Destry in the recliner. We were offered juice and water and shown the cafeteria menu. After the shift change we met the doctor, one of many. I asked her to do another ultra sound for me. It seemed the responsible thing to do. The constant was our nurse. I don't know how often the hospital knowingly delivers still born babies but they have a wonderful program and we felt wonderfully cared for. The doctor administered the first round of induction medicine internally. This would be administered every four hours until I was fully dilated. During this time the nurse got to know me and started feeding us all the information we would need. She brought us a packet full of mourning information and resources. Information on local funeral homes and talked to us about our religious preferences for Gemma's baptism.
The hardest part of that day was watching my husband call the funeral home to make arraignments for our daughter. No! No one should ever have to do that.
Then we got dressed and left the hospital and went out to lunch. We just went across the street to one of our favorite restaurants, ate some fondue, sandwiches and dessert. It was a small feeling of normalcy on our anniversary. Very small.
We scurry back to the hospital and I crawl back in bed and pretend like we have been there all along. I check in with family to let them know we are OK. It is time for my second round of medicine.
At some point they start feeding pitocin through my IV. I intensely dislike it. Every time I get out of bed to use the restroom I start shivering and my teeth were chattering. Just about the time I get warm again it is time to get up and use the restroom again. All I want at this point is a catheter. All Destry wants is for me to turn down the heat.
Around 3 pm I am starting to feel very uncomfortable. I request some pain medication. They give me a shot of something in my IV. I get really high and delete all my important emails from my laptop and delete my deleted folder. Emails are gone forever and I didn't even remember doing it. I didn't notice they were gone for three days.
I have some relief for about 20 min. I am not happy. These induced contractions are one on top of another. They are intense and you get no relief in between. On top of feeling like you have the flu from the pitocin it was not a pleasant experience. It takes me another hour and half to finally get an epidural. Destry scurries off to get coffee as I am getting prepped. He doesn't like needles. He has been known to pass out at the sight of them. We didn't want to take any chances.
It is about 6:30 pm. I am feeling better but I am aware that the epidural is one sided. My left leg is totally numb and I am unable to move it on my own. I feels huge and it hurts and it burns. I am able to feel and move my right leg on my own. I finally get that catheter. I can still feel my contractions but they don't hurt. They are one minute apart and last about 20 to 30 seconds for the next 6 hours. After my epidural I am checked in preparation for my third round of medicine. I don't need it. I am dilating nicely and at 6 or 7 already. They put us to bed. My eye's are closed but I can not sleep. I can hear Destry snoring over there.
Just before 12:00 pm my water breaks. This is where I experience my only regret. I immediately called the nurse to let her know. A nurse I had not met scurried in uncomfortably and checked under the covers. Grabbed the pillow that was under my knees and tossed it in the bathroom. Then scurried out. I wake Destry from across the room and he jerks awake in a panic. I try and calm him and tell time to take some time to wake up. He lays back down and goes back to sleep. The Dr. has been loitering outside the door in anticipation of this moment and comes in. So does a nurse I had not met yet. They turn on the lights and they get there table and tools ready, they get me in position and I ask for a mirror.
Oh Yah Destry, Umm honey are you waking up over there. He sits up again and mumbles something and just sits there. Honey can you come and stand by me? Sure. He just sits there. The nurse asks him if he wants to come and stand by me and hold my hand. No answer. I suddenly realize what is going on here. He is sleep walking. He is not awake. I have seen this a couple of times but not very often. She asks again just as I am about to say something about him still being a sleep. And he shakes is head and says, Sorry what?
This is where I wish I would have woke Destry up first before calling the nurse. I wish we could have had a moment together to get ready for this before all the drama was going on. I imagine this scene over and over again in my head all the time. Trying to rewrite history and finding some peace.
Destry groggily gets up and walks around me looking scared to death and stands on my left. The nurse needs to be on the left to help the Dr. The nurse ask him if he wants to stand on my right where he could see better. He says no. He is fine. Well he is still half asleep at this point. So I ask him to come on the right side to hold my hand and reluctantly obliges. I was worried about him and it was really hard getting ready to push and worried about my half sleeping husband.
The Dr. perches herself on the edge of the bed and tells me to push. Really just like that? Do you want me to wait for a contraction or something. She shrugs and says I can wait for one if I want to. I was a little concerned at first that since Gemma was in a breach position I might have a hard time. I learned very quickly that this was not a concern with little tiny babies.
When I felt a contraction I started pushing. I don't remember how many times I push all together because something happened that startled me and threw me for a loop. This is the only kind of funny, kind of gross thing that happened this whole birth. My water bag exploded with my first push and shot out of me and sprayed everything including my Dr. and her face! Yes, really. She jumped up and grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her face and mouth. I felt kind of bad, but what could I do but just lay there. Oops Sorry. Lets try again. I push again and, well it happened again. Just not with so much force. Nobody got hit in the face this time.
I am a little distracted at this point, I think I am able to push her out with one good push. I am glad I asked for a mirror. This scene of seeing her being born is the most vivid memory I have of the whole day.
This part is so hard. She just kind of plops out and I can't really tell what I am seeing. I think she is still wrapped in her sack but she is not. Destry can see her and he sobs at the sight of her hygroma. He collapse on my chest and we cry. The nurse asks me if we want to hold her. I have to tell her to give us a few moments. So she cuts her cord and takes her and puts a little clamp on her cord and holds her in the bassinet. Destry goes and gets on-line. He is able to contact my sister who is awake and wondering how we are in Australia.
The Dr. tells me to give another push. What? I guess it is normal to have to push out the placenta. I know this but was in such shock that I complete blanked it out. Just like that I have given birth to our daughter. The doctor commented on how big and saturated my placenta was. Another reminder of how sick Gemma was.
I asked for Gemma. The nurse brought her to me. I was holding her on my chest. She was so smashed from being born that I could not tell what I was looking at. Her face was unrecognizable her little cheeks and lips we so smashed I pointed to her and asked, what am I looking at here? The Dr. said that is her face and so I kept looking until I could make out all of her features. She continued to relax and her features became more pronounced until she looked like a normal little baby. I was so scared of her. I was scared to hurt her. This is when the nurse who was filling in for my nurse gave me the biggest gift of all. She was my angel.
She excitedly explored my baby with me. I was afraid she was going to fall apart. She assured me she was just fine. She showed me her little hands and her little feet. Gemma has Destry's feet. She helped me turn her over and look at her little bottom and I even saw her hygroma. I was scared to show our family Gemma's pictures at first because her condition is apparent. Gemma's skin had started to deteriorate before she was born. She had some very small patches of skin that I was able to touch and kiss. Her little body was swollen with fluid that continued to seep from her body after she was born. She weighed just 1.08 lbs and was 10" long and she was born at 12:02 am on 10-11-12. Her own special day.
By this time my regular nurse was back from break and in the room with me. She asked me what I wanted to do with Gemma. I could stay up with her or have her in the bassinet in the room or they could take her to the cooler. I could not think. I could not answer her questions. We decided to try and get some sleep. I asked them to take Gemma to the cooler for the night. I became immediately protective of her. I didn't want her to deteriorate any further. I felt it was the safest place for her. I declined to give her a bath. It would have done nothing to help her condition. These were all very hard and confusing decisions.
There was not much rest to be had after that. The lights were off and I was laying down but the nurses where in and out checking on me the rest of the night. They turned off my epidural. My fever finally broke and Destry was relieved when I agreed to turn off the heater. They were constantly checking my blood pressure and checking for excessive bleeding. My legs were killing me and I was glad to finally be able to drink some water. The nurse came in and announced Gemma's weight had measurements to me. For some reason I was surprised to hear her say that. It was sweet and terribly sad at the same time.
We were slow to wake up in the morning. We had a bite to eat then the clergy came to us. After chatting she asked if we could get Gemma. So I called for her and the nurses rushed to get her ready for us. They dressed her in a precious tiny gown and a tiny little hat. They gave her her first little teddy bear and a charm bracelet with her name on it. Because every girls needs her bling. She was wrapped in her special blanket gifted to her from her grandma and grandpa. We held our little bundle and cried. She weighed absolutely nothing. You just could not feel her weight in her blanket. It was terrible and wonderful and confusing. You could feel that she was cold and you wanted her to cry. So very unnatural. Destry held her and cried that they made her look so pretty. They did. This simple act of treating our baby with respect and deserving of special treatment was the most powerful experience. The impact of this important gesture resonated with me like no other.
The clergy asked to hold her as she gave her a blessing. We took some pictures with her. The nurses took some pictures with all three of us. We took our time with her. Our only time with her.
Dr. Leigh came to visit us. She met Gemma and brought us a gift. She took out my IV and made me go pee. Then she discharged me. Just like that we got our discharge instructions and it was time to say goodbye. Was it hard to say good bye? Not as hard as I thought it would be. I wanted her home with us. I didn't want to think of her in a cooler or at the funeral home. I wanted her home with us. We arranged for the funeral home to come and get her as soon as they could. And she was home with us on Monday.
She rest by our wedding picture on the mantel. When I am really sad I might sleep with her.
We grabbed our bags and walked out of our room with our memorial box in hand. I was mad. Mad that all I had was that stupid box. There was no one in the hallway as we left. It felt like we were the only people in the world, all alone. We push the door open to the lobby and we could see and hear a group of young people chatting and laughing one of them obviously very pregnant. Waiting to be admitted. And I prayed, I prayed that she would never know the pain that I felt in that moment.
It does not end there. This story never ends. This is a story of waiting a life time to hold my baby again. I lifetime feels like a really long time.
My bottom hurt even before I left the hospital. It hurt to sit and it felt very much like my endometriosis pain. I thought I would start feeling better when I got home. But I didn't, after about a week I was surprised that I was hardly bleeding any more. I really didn't know any better I thought postpartum bleeding was heavy and long. It is not. So I was surprised when after a week I got some cramps and passed a big clot and started bleeding a little again. In the morning my bladder would ache and it still hurt to sit. At my two week appointment I told Dr. Leigh all of this.
Diagnosis, uterine infection. I started a round of antibiotics for 10 days. I had to go in and get a scan to make sure that I did not have any retained placenta. That would have required a DNC. I started to feel better right away. My uterus was inflamed and resting on my bowel. That causes extreme pain. I know because before I had laparoscopic surgery my uterus was fused to my bowl and they feel very similar.
Day ten, I take my last dose of antibiotics in the morning by evening I have a full blown raging case of the hives. Huge itching welts all over my body, face and hands. Dr. Leigh is thrilled that I was able to take all the dosed before I had the allergic reaction because that means they worked. Not much can be done about the hives. So I rub the cream on them and knock myself out with Benadryl for three days.
I go back to work on Monday with a mild case of hives on my arms still. It has been four weeks since giving birth to Gemma Hope. And nobody wants to talk about her. People are scared of me. They don't know how to talk to me. People give me gifts and ask how I am doing. Well, you don't want to know how I am really doing and gifts don't make me feel better. I want gifts for Gemma or gifts in honor of Gemma. I want to hear her name. Nobody tells me they miss her, that they love her or wish she was still here. And they can all piss off.
(I wrote that last part during my anger faze of grief.)
Maybe it was wishful thinking....
I had made the decision to stop updating my blog about our appointments and instead sent out email updates. I had packed my overnight bag. I had filled out my FMLA paper work. I made sure the camera was charged. I bought a new nightgown. I feverishly finished sewing Gemma's quilt. It just had to be finished before we lost her. We finally sat the girls down and told them that little Gemma Hope was sick and we might loose her. This broke my heart more than anything.
I lay there as she scans my belly and then she says "If her heart was beating you would see it right here." as she circled the wand over a blank space that had no movement at all. We both just stared waiting for her little heart to beat, hoping that she was just looking in the wrong place. She arranged for us to have a confirmation ultrasound next door. As we waited I lay there trying with all my might not to start freaking out and crying like crazy. My emotions felt like a ping pong ball bouncing off the walls in that tiny office. Here we go! This is what I have been trying to prepare myself for the past 5 months.
We waited outside of the office waiting for them to call us in for the second ultra sound. My head is resting on Destry's shoulder and I have tears in my eyes and there is a woman across from us talking loudly on her cell phone. Loudly proclaiming that she needs to get an appointment to get her bangs trimmed. That is when I got my first taste of it. My first taste of what it feels like when the world keeps going on around you, when your world has just crashed at your feet. I can still feel what it felt like to imagine jumping up and grabbing her phone and screaming "It doesn't matter! I just found out my baby died! Who cares about your stupid hair! Just shut up!" I didn't, I just sat there with tears in my eye's.
We were called back and asked if a student could sit in on our appointment. I thought, Why the hell not? We watch the screen again and I sobbed. I had to apologize as I tried to calm myself so my belly would not shutter. For just the briefest second I thought I saw movement on the screen and made a noise of shock. Just as fast I realized I saw nothing.
Dr. Leigh met with us in her office. Where she arranged for us to check in to the hospital either that night or the next morning. I remember the look on her face when we explained that the next morning was our wedding anniversary. Our second wedding anniversary. I wanted to wait until Friday so we could make sure that she was the one to delivery me. We decided together that it was important to meet our baby in the best condition possible. We went home and called our family and friends. Got some sleep and checked in to the hospital the next morning.
We arrived at the hospital at 6:30 am on 10-10-12 and they were expecting us. We got settled, me in my gown and slippers, Destry in the recliner. We were offered juice and water and shown the cafeteria menu. After the shift change we met the doctor, one of many. I asked her to do another ultra sound for me. It seemed the responsible thing to do. The constant was our nurse. I don't know how often the hospital knowingly delivers still born babies but they have a wonderful program and we felt wonderfully cared for. The doctor administered the first round of induction medicine internally. This would be administered every four hours until I was fully dilated. During this time the nurse got to know me and started feeding us all the information we would need. She brought us a packet full of mourning information and resources. Information on local funeral homes and talked to us about our religious preferences for Gemma's baptism.
The hardest part of that day was watching my husband call the funeral home to make arraignments for our daughter. No! No one should ever have to do that.
Then we got dressed and left the hospital and went out to lunch. We just went across the street to one of our favorite restaurants, ate some fondue, sandwiches and dessert. It was a small feeling of normalcy on our anniversary. Very small.
We scurry back to the hospital and I crawl back in bed and pretend like we have been there all along. I check in with family to let them know we are OK. It is time for my second round of medicine.
At some point they start feeding pitocin through my IV. I intensely dislike it. Every time I get out of bed to use the restroom I start shivering and my teeth were chattering. Just about the time I get warm again it is time to get up and use the restroom again. All I want at this point is a catheter. All Destry wants is for me to turn down the heat.
Around 3 pm I am starting to feel very uncomfortable. I request some pain medication. They give me a shot of something in my IV. I get really high and delete all my important emails from my laptop and delete my deleted folder. Emails are gone forever and I didn't even remember doing it. I didn't notice they were gone for three days.
I have some relief for about 20 min. I am not happy. These induced contractions are one on top of another. They are intense and you get no relief in between. On top of feeling like you have the flu from the pitocin it was not a pleasant experience. It takes me another hour and half to finally get an epidural. Destry scurries off to get coffee as I am getting prepped. He doesn't like needles. He has been known to pass out at the sight of them. We didn't want to take any chances.
It is about 6:30 pm. I am feeling better but I am aware that the epidural is one sided. My left leg is totally numb and I am unable to move it on my own. I feels huge and it hurts and it burns. I am able to feel and move my right leg on my own. I finally get that catheter. I can still feel my contractions but they don't hurt. They are one minute apart and last about 20 to 30 seconds for the next 6 hours. After my epidural I am checked in preparation for my third round of medicine. I don't need it. I am dilating nicely and at 6 or 7 already. They put us to bed. My eye's are closed but I can not sleep. I can hear Destry snoring over there.
Just before 12:00 pm my water breaks. This is where I experience my only regret. I immediately called the nurse to let her know. A nurse I had not met scurried in uncomfortably and checked under the covers. Grabbed the pillow that was under my knees and tossed it in the bathroom. Then scurried out. I wake Destry from across the room and he jerks awake in a panic. I try and calm him and tell time to take some time to wake up. He lays back down and goes back to sleep. The Dr. has been loitering outside the door in anticipation of this moment and comes in. So does a nurse I had not met yet. They turn on the lights and they get there table and tools ready, they get me in position and I ask for a mirror.
Oh Yah Destry, Umm honey are you waking up over there. He sits up again and mumbles something and just sits there. Honey can you come and stand by me? Sure. He just sits there. The nurse asks him if he wants to come and stand by me and hold my hand. No answer. I suddenly realize what is going on here. He is sleep walking. He is not awake. I have seen this a couple of times but not very often. She asks again just as I am about to say something about him still being a sleep. And he shakes is head and says, Sorry what?
This is where I wish I would have woke Destry up first before calling the nurse. I wish we could have had a moment together to get ready for this before all the drama was going on. I imagine this scene over and over again in my head all the time. Trying to rewrite history and finding some peace.
Destry groggily gets up and walks around me looking scared to death and stands on my left. The nurse needs to be on the left to help the Dr. The nurse ask him if he wants to stand on my right where he could see better. He says no. He is fine. Well he is still half asleep at this point. So I ask him to come on the right side to hold my hand and reluctantly obliges. I was worried about him and it was really hard getting ready to push and worried about my half sleeping husband.
The Dr. perches herself on the edge of the bed and tells me to push. Really just like that? Do you want me to wait for a contraction or something. She shrugs and says I can wait for one if I want to. I was a little concerned at first that since Gemma was in a breach position I might have a hard time. I learned very quickly that this was not a concern with little tiny babies.
When I felt a contraction I started pushing. I don't remember how many times I push all together because something happened that startled me and threw me for a loop. This is the only kind of funny, kind of gross thing that happened this whole birth. My water bag exploded with my first push and shot out of me and sprayed everything including my Dr. and her face! Yes, really. She jumped up and grabbed a tissue and dabbed at her face and mouth. I felt kind of bad, but what could I do but just lay there. Oops Sorry. Lets try again. I push again and, well it happened again. Just not with so much force. Nobody got hit in the face this time.
I am a little distracted at this point, I think I am able to push her out with one good push. I am glad I asked for a mirror. This scene of seeing her being born is the most vivid memory I have of the whole day.
This part is so hard. She just kind of plops out and I can't really tell what I am seeing. I think she is still wrapped in her sack but she is not. Destry can see her and he sobs at the sight of her hygroma. He collapse on my chest and we cry. The nurse asks me if we want to hold her. I have to tell her to give us a few moments. So she cuts her cord and takes her and puts a little clamp on her cord and holds her in the bassinet. Destry goes and gets on-line. He is able to contact my sister who is awake and wondering how we are in Australia.
The Dr. tells me to give another push. What? I guess it is normal to have to push out the placenta. I know this but was in such shock that I complete blanked it out. Just like that I have given birth to our daughter. The doctor commented on how big and saturated my placenta was. Another reminder of how sick Gemma was.
I asked for Gemma. The nurse brought her to me. I was holding her on my chest. She was so smashed from being born that I could not tell what I was looking at. Her face was unrecognizable her little cheeks and lips we so smashed I pointed to her and asked, what am I looking at here? The Dr. said that is her face and so I kept looking until I could make out all of her features. She continued to relax and her features became more pronounced until she looked like a normal little baby. I was so scared of her. I was scared to hurt her. This is when the nurse who was filling in for my nurse gave me the biggest gift of all. She was my angel.
She excitedly explored my baby with me. I was afraid she was going to fall apart. She assured me she was just fine. She showed me her little hands and her little feet. Gemma has Destry's feet. She helped me turn her over and look at her little bottom and I even saw her hygroma. I was scared to show our family Gemma's pictures at first because her condition is apparent. Gemma's skin had started to deteriorate before she was born. She had some very small patches of skin that I was able to touch and kiss. Her little body was swollen with fluid that continued to seep from her body after she was born. She weighed just 1.08 lbs and was 10" long and she was born at 12:02 am on 10-11-12. Her own special day.
By this time my regular nurse was back from break and in the room with me. She asked me what I wanted to do with Gemma. I could stay up with her or have her in the bassinet in the room or they could take her to the cooler. I could not think. I could not answer her questions. We decided to try and get some sleep. I asked them to take Gemma to the cooler for the night. I became immediately protective of her. I didn't want her to deteriorate any further. I felt it was the safest place for her. I declined to give her a bath. It would have done nothing to help her condition. These were all very hard and confusing decisions.
There was not much rest to be had after that. The lights were off and I was laying down but the nurses where in and out checking on me the rest of the night. They turned off my epidural. My fever finally broke and Destry was relieved when I agreed to turn off the heater. They were constantly checking my blood pressure and checking for excessive bleeding. My legs were killing me and I was glad to finally be able to drink some water. The nurse came in and announced Gemma's weight had measurements to me. For some reason I was surprised to hear her say that. It was sweet and terribly sad at the same time.
We were slow to wake up in the morning. We had a bite to eat then the clergy came to us. After chatting she asked if we could get Gemma. So I called for her and the nurses rushed to get her ready for us. They dressed her in a precious tiny gown and a tiny little hat. They gave her her first little teddy bear and a charm bracelet with her name on it. Because every girls needs her bling. She was wrapped in her special blanket gifted to her from her grandma and grandpa. We held our little bundle and cried. She weighed absolutely nothing. You just could not feel her weight in her blanket. It was terrible and wonderful and confusing. You could feel that she was cold and you wanted her to cry. So very unnatural. Destry held her and cried that they made her look so pretty. They did. This simple act of treating our baby with respect and deserving of special treatment was the most powerful experience. The impact of this important gesture resonated with me like no other.
The clergy asked to hold her as she gave her a blessing. We took some pictures with her. The nurses took some pictures with all three of us. We took our time with her. Our only time with her.
Dr. Leigh came to visit us. She met Gemma and brought us a gift. She took out my IV and made me go pee. Then she discharged me. Just like that we got our discharge instructions and it was time to say goodbye. Was it hard to say good bye? Not as hard as I thought it would be. I wanted her home with us. I didn't want to think of her in a cooler or at the funeral home. I wanted her home with us. We arranged for the funeral home to come and get her as soon as they could. And she was home with us on Monday.
She rest by our wedding picture on the mantel. When I am really sad I might sleep with her.
We grabbed our bags and walked out of our room with our memorial box in hand. I was mad. Mad that all I had was that stupid box. There was no one in the hallway as we left. It felt like we were the only people in the world, all alone. We push the door open to the lobby and we could see and hear a group of young people chatting and laughing one of them obviously very pregnant. Waiting to be admitted. And I prayed, I prayed that she would never know the pain that I felt in that moment.
It does not end there. This story never ends. This is a story of waiting a life time to hold my baby again. I lifetime feels like a really long time.
My bottom hurt even before I left the hospital. It hurt to sit and it felt very much like my endometriosis pain. I thought I would start feeling better when I got home. But I didn't, after about a week I was surprised that I was hardly bleeding any more. I really didn't know any better I thought postpartum bleeding was heavy and long. It is not. So I was surprised when after a week I got some cramps and passed a big clot and started bleeding a little again. In the morning my bladder would ache and it still hurt to sit. At my two week appointment I told Dr. Leigh all of this.
Diagnosis, uterine infection. I started a round of antibiotics for 10 days. I had to go in and get a scan to make sure that I did not have any retained placenta. That would have required a DNC. I started to feel better right away. My uterus was inflamed and resting on my bowel. That causes extreme pain. I know because before I had laparoscopic surgery my uterus was fused to my bowl and they feel very similar.
Day ten, I take my last dose of antibiotics in the morning by evening I have a full blown raging case of the hives. Huge itching welts all over my body, face and hands. Dr. Leigh is thrilled that I was able to take all the dosed before I had the allergic reaction because that means they worked. Not much can be done about the hives. So I rub the cream on them and knock myself out with Benadryl for three days.
I go back to work on Monday with a mild case of hives on my arms still. It has been four weeks since giving birth to Gemma Hope. And nobody wants to talk about her. People are scared of me. They don't know how to talk to me. People give me gifts and ask how I am doing. Well, you don't want to know how I am really doing and gifts don't make me feel better. I want gifts for Gemma or gifts in honor of Gemma. I want to hear her name. Nobody tells me they miss her, that they love her or wish she was still here. And they can all piss off.
(I wrote that last part during my anger faze of grief.)
