Wednesday, December 3, 2014

A Life Story

October 9, 2014 (3:30 am)
My Dearest Olivia,


It was July 5th when we first learned you were on the way.  Your daddy and I were excited and nervous when we saw the dark pink lines two days before I even expected my period.  You must have been a strong baby, I thought, as I admired the dark lines on the pregnancy test.  I couldn’t contain my excitement and shared it with Nana as soon as I saw her that day.  She was shocked to see that Daddy and I were pregnant again because, you see, we had suffered many losses in the past and had been too afraid to risk loss again.  But our hearts did not feel complete without a third child and we decided once again that the opportunity of completing our family was worth the risk of more heartache.


Since I tested on a Saturday, I impatiently waited two days until the doctor’s office was opened on Monday.  I went in for HCG draws two days apart in order to see how you were doing in there. Much to our happiness we learned that the level for this pregnancy hormone was outstanding! This was another sign of your strength.


The next few weeks would be a tough wait for us until we could see you on an ultrasound safe and sound with a heartbeat.  We were headed to Florida for two weeks, which would really help the time pass while we waited.  Before we left, though, Mommy wanted to check to make sure you were where you belonged.  Just the summer before, a baby had implanted in a fallopian tube.  But not you! You were right where you needed to be.


Toward the end of the trip, morning sickness kicked in.  I felt nauseous throughout the day and especially when I got too hungry or was in the heat.  Remember, we were in Florida, so there was plenty of heat!  I didn’t mind, though.  This was another positive sign to me that you were in there doing exactly what you were supposed to do--grow!


I ate Saltines all the way home to help my queasy stomach.  Then the day I had been waiting for came, and we went to see you on the ultrasound. There you were with your little heart pumping away!  What relief!


The next few weeks allowed us weekly glimpses of your growing little body and always your precious beating heart.  We did have a little scare at 9 weeks when I spotted for a few days, but we cried tears of joy when we saw your heart still beating away.  And you’d grown to look like a gummy bear!


It was after this ultrasound that Daddy couldn’t wait any more to share the news about you with your sisters.  Lily and Ella were immediately and fully excited about you!  We sat together and thought up possible names for you that night.   The girls suggested names like Clara, Beast, Belle, and our personal favorite: FROYO YOLO.  This became our code name for you, as you were our family’s little secret.


Over the next few weeks we started to talk more and more about you.  Everyone we told was so excited.  They knew how much you were wanted and how hard Mommy and Daddy had tried for a third baby.  We were nearing the end of the first trimester and were feeling good.


Our next appointment was at 12.5 weeks. It had been three long weeks between appointments and Mommy was nervous to make sure you were ok.  Much to Mommy’s and Daddy’s delight, we heard your heartbeat on the doppler for the first time that day.  Afterward we decided to try out a relatively new blood test that would tell us whether you were a boy or girl.  


With the passing of this appointment, we were happily heading into the second trimester. What sweet relief!  We shared a picture of your sisters on Facebook to announce your upcoming arrival. Then just a week or so later we received a phone call on a Saturday evening.  My doctor called to tell us you were a healthy baby girl!  Mommy and Nana went off to buy supplies to surprise your sisters with the news.  That night, Lily and Ella excitedly pulled open a box of pink balloons that revealed that they would have a baby sister.  They were both over the moon!


Over the next week or so, Mommy started to feel little flutters and nudges from you.  What a wonderful feeling!  I quickly learned that if I laid quietly on my side with my legs curled up, I could get you to squirm around.  


With the news that you were a girl, I started buying adorable little outfits in pink, purple, and yes, even blue.  Lily and Ella started choosing things that had been theirs and setting them aside for you.  They put together a basket of books, Ella found her old "wa-wers," and they even decided they could part with a stuffed animal and blanket or two.  We talked again about what to name you at dinner one night and when Ella suggested Olivia, we all agreed that we liked it.  Well, to be honest, she suggested Paige Olivia Grace, but that was a bit much for a little girl.  Olivia would be a beautiful name for our beautiful daughter.  What an exciting time for our family!


As the 16 week appointment approached, we were feeling good.  All we had to do now was continue on through the pregnancy with the tough anxiety and morning sickness of the first trimester growing more and more distant in our rear-view mirror.  I carried this optimism for you, our strong girl, despite questioning over the past several days whether I was still feeling you move. I convinced myself that there was nothing to worry about.  It was still early to feel any movement at all, so I couldn’t expect daily movement, right?  It was easy to believe this. You had proven your staying power many times before.  The day of the appointment, Mommy and Daddy sat confidently in the doctor’s office and talked animatedly about our day as we waited for the doctor.  


She came in and set to work to listen to your heartbeat.  No one expected what came next--heart-wrenching silence.  Dr. L said not to worry as she left the room for the portable ultrasound machine.  Ok, I thought, we will just get an extra peek at our little girl.   Dr. L pulled up your image on the screen and said she already saw your little heart beating.  I wasn’t so sure though, and I told her I was glad she did because I couldn’t see it.  What followed was a long and uncomfortable silence.  Then Dr. L sadly admitted that she had seen a flicker in the image, but that she couldn’t see your heartbeat after all.  


How could this be?!  We were beyond the first trimester and had a clean bill of health from the blood work that had told us you were a little girl.  We had shared our exciting news about you with everyone, and now it was all crashing down around us.  My doctor presented two options about what our next step would be but there was no choice in our minds. We would be sent to the hospital to induce labor and I would deliver you.  We would hold you and love you and steal as many memories as we could during our short time together.


Daddy drove us both home and we began the heart-wrenching task of sharing our devastating news.  Ella was in disbelief at first. She had spent every day since finding out about you 7 weeks earlier talking about you, hugging you through my belly, and imagining you as her little sister.  Lily was so angry that you were gone. She threw all the things that had accumulated for you all around the room yelling that they were all trash. She felt your loss so deeply and more intensely than Mommy and Daddy had ever seen her feel.


We spent the next few days wrapping our heads around what was happening.  We felt disbelief and incredible sorrow.  But we also made plans about how to take care of you during our final opportunity--your birthday. We decided that your name would be Olivia Claire and that we would remember you with the symbol of a violet, a name Daddy really liked.  We made the difficult decision that we would have your body cremated so that I could keep you close to my heart in a violet shaped charm.   We prepared ourselves for saying “Hello” and “Goodbye” all in the same day.  


Oh, sweet baby, we cried and we cried together.  Your Mommy, Daddy, sisters, grandparents, aunts and uncles, we all cried for the loss of you.  Daddy and Mommy clung to each other for support and grieving.  We became closer together than ever before.  Thank you for that priceless gift, Olivia.  Even the sky, which had been bone-dry all through September decided to open up and rain for the two days after we found out and the two days after you were born.  


The days between finding out you were gone and waiting to go to the hospital flew by too quickly.  Although I was devastated, I also took some small pleasure in enjoying my last few days of carrying you.  I knew that all too soon even that would be gone.


The morning of Sunday, October 5th arrived and Mommy and Daddy went to the hospital to begin what was the hardest day of our lives.  Mommy began by asking a slew of prepared questions: Could we take one final look with the ultrasound? (She didn’t see why not) Would we be able to cremate your little body? (yes)  How would the pain drugs work?  When I found out that the medicine was likely to alter my awareness, I made the resolve to carry on without them. I wanted to be fully present during our short time together.


Luckily, you made it easy on me.  I didn’t feel much of anything for the first 5 or so hours.  Then the pain slowly started to increase.  I was really starting to get uncomfortable after about 6 or 7 hours so I was pacing the hospital room to relieve some discomfort.  All of a sudden, my water broke.  Olivia, you are my only baby who gave me the experience of my water breaking spontaneously.  It was then that I knew you were really on your way.  But also, the pain suddenly just stopped.  And you know what? It never returned.
Over the next hour, my body prepared for your delivery pain-free.  Then the time arrived for us to meet you.  Dr. L told me to push and I barely gave any effort and at 8:38 pm out you came already sleeping.  We were shocked by some horrible effects of the delivery on your fragile little body but Daddy reminded me that you were our baby and beautiful and precious no matter what your body endured.  


My doctor and the nurses left with you for a while to get your hand and footprints (Now Mommy’s prized possession) and to make some repairs to your delicate body before Mommy and Daddy would see and hold you.  During that time, we cried for you and the lost opportunity to raise you. But then we prepared ourselves for the important opportunity of meeting you and loving on you before our final goodbye.


The nurses dressed you in a purple bunting hand-knitted by a wonderful stranger.  We took turns holding you and studying your little features.  Was that Mommy’s almond-shaped eyes we saw? What about Daddy’s strong nose?  We held your hand and foot on our fingertips.  Everything was so tiny but so perfect.  We baptized you and took pictures to remember you.  When the nurses and chaplain left us alone with you we sang you a lullaby and Mommy was overcome with the intense NEED to read you a book.  Dr. L found one and we shared our first and last book together. Daddy danced with you and we held you some more.  Too quickly, it was time to say goodbye.  


We left the hospital empty of the one thing we wanted more than anything: our third baby girl. Instead, we had a hand-painted box covered in violets (another item prepared by a stranger to help us in this terrible time) filled with memories.  A pink card with your name, footprints, birth time and weight.  A ceramic casting of your footprints and hands.  The bunting you wore while we held you.  A miniature hat, blanket, hair bow and bear (handmade and donated for a special angel like you).  Hospital bracelets you would never wear.  A card with all the important information about your birth.  These are all treasures for us now as we remember you, our daughter, sister, granddaughter, niece.  A day hasn’t gone by that I haven’t looked at and lovingly touched each item in the box.  And just like any proud momma, I share your treasures with everyone I can.  


The days since your birth have been very difficult.  We are sadder than we have ever been before. We mourn the loss of opportunity to raise you. We will never see your smile, hear your first word, smell your delightful baby smell. Your sisters mourn the loss of the opportunity to meet you, care for you, and play with you.  And even as I write this, my body is preparing to feed you a meal you will never eat.


My mind is filled with WHYS.  WHY aren’t you still kicking, growing and LIVING inside me like you are supposed to be? WHY you? WHY us?  WHY were you taken a lifetime too soon? WHY WHY WHY WHY WHY?


You are forever our daughter. We will always carry you in our hearts.  We miss you and love you and long for you.  Sweet dreams, Olivia Claire.  


Love Mommy

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