Elliston Rae’s Story

(This is a guest blog from Tiffany about her daughter Elliston Rae. Thank you for sharing this with us Tiffany.)

Here is the story of our Elliston Rae…

On Thursday morning, October 25, 2012, we went to our regularly scheduled 38 week doctors appointment. I told my doctor that I hadn’t felt her moving as much. She checked, and Elliston’s heart rate was 151. My cervix was very soft but not dilated. They did an ultrasound to check measurements and sweet girl appeared to weigh approx 6lbs 3oz, score perfectly on whatever it is she gets a score for, and was as “healthy” as can be.

Friday morning, October 26, I woke up at 230am with some cramping. Nothing different from what I heard was normal. I was 37weeks, 6 days. I noticed them coming and going. I timed a few and they were never more than 5-6 minutes apart. I wondered how I had heard so many stories of people getting so much accomplished in the beginning stages of their labor. I told my husband about my contractions and how quickly they were coming and how intense they were getting. We got up and started getting stuff together. I got in the bath and watched a movie from the bathtub, just trying to manage the pain (which was getting more intense a lot faster than i had expected). We called our doula around 7am and since she lives so close she came over right away to check on me. My original goal was to labor as much as possible at home. I laid on my birth ball for a while, but for some reason just couldnt be ok with the situation. I kept asking her if we should go to the hospital. She made it clear that it was definitely my decision. I said I could handle the labor better if I could just be sure Elliston was safe. I had no reason to think she was anything but safe… I just needed to be sure.

We made it to the hospital by 9:30am and my contractions were about 3 minutes apart. In triage, they laid me down and started asking all the questions that are super annoying when you are having contractions 2-3 minutes apart. And one very aggressive nurse checked me and announced that I was not dilated at all. She put the monitor on my stomach and was having a hard time finding the heart beat. It started to concern me, but I wouldnt let myself freak out. They brought in a doppler and still could not find her heartbeat. I began not being able to breathe at the thought of what was happening. They put an oxygen mask over my face, which was making me more and more anxious. They rolled in an ultrasound machine and did an ultrasound. As soon as the picture was over her rib cage, where 24 hours earlier there was a strong beating heart, there was now a still, silent heart. From our miscarriage 1 year ago, I was very familiar with staring at that heart beating at each ultrasound, and now to see nothing moving… that sight will forever be stamped in my memory. My husband and I began to weep as the crowd of nurses left the room except one who remained with her hands lightly on my stomach while she stood praying for us. I’m sure that is somehow against some hospital policy somewhere, but I am forever grateful for that woman.

My doctor rushed over and did an ultrasound herself and gave the official word. She slammed down the ultrasound wand and could not keep the tears from streaming down her face. After a few minutes of tears and trying to catch my breath I was still having major contractions and we were faced with the reality of what the rest of that day held for us. I begged to be put under and to just take care of it. Thank God I had a doctor who didn’t let me make an emotional decision and walked me through every scenario. After 11 hours of an epidural that sure never seemed to last very long, conversations I never imagined having, decisions I dont wish for anyone to ever have to make for their child, and having to push out my baby who will never experience any of the dreams we had for our new family… Elliston Rae Pitts was born at 10:06pm.

As soon as she came out, I heard nothing but shock in the doctors voice as she began counting the number of times she had to remove the cord from around her neck. Seven times. Something she said she had never seen in her entire career and never even heard of. Along with the 7 times around her neck was a tight knot. Although I would give anything for none of this to ever have happened, I am glad we at least know what the problem was.

After the cord was removed, we were handed the most beautiful baby girl. 6lbs 9oz of pure perfection. Long toes, which did not come from me or Colby. Long fingernails already in need of a baby mani. Lots of dark hair. My nose. Colbys ears. Lips so beautiful, made to be kissed.

As my doctor and every nurse in the room didn’t even try to hold back their tears, I just watched every one as if I was a spectator in someone else’s tragedy. I had no emotion other than numb. In a matter of seconds I witnessed Colby become the most protective, proud, loving father I had ever seen. I saw him holding the most beautiful baby girl I had ever laid eyes on, still not believing that this is my life… and that is my daughter.

We were lucky to have a hospital that told us we could pretty much stay as long as we needed. Immediately, I thought “of course I am staying until they kick me out”. I have heard stories of other couples being rushed out. I can’t imagine being hurried through the process. Of course no time would ever be enough, but I’m glad to have been able to leave on our terms.

You would think that giving birth to a perfect child who will never wrap her little arms around our necks would be the worst moment of a moms life. I thought that on the night that she was born. Until the next day, when I realized that even though the baby I was rocking wasn’t alive and breathing… at some point, I was going to have to hand her over to someone and walk away.

We were blessed with the most amazing nurse on the planet. New Friend Jen. She happens to do photography on the side and had her husband bring up her camera. I remember reading a small page in one of our pregnancy books that mentioned the possibility of this outcome. It briefly talked about taking pictures… my small brain couldn’t understand why. When Jen mentioned the pictures I was so confused because as in love as I was with my daughter, a part of me still thought it was strange. I am so glad it was never really an option. Now I have the most beautiful pictures of our angel that we will treasure forever. Close ups of her chubby hands, her double chin, her tiny ears, and even one of her in the one dress I packed in her bag that was too small, but oh so cute.

Signing her birth and death certificates and writing “Mother” next to my name may have been the first time I think I could literally feel my heart break. The day was filled with lots of emotion, which I was finally starting to feel some of. Our close friends and family that were in town came to see and hold her. It was sad and comforting to know that they were suffering a loss too. They had all dreamed with us and giggled and imagined life with this precious little girl. Of course I hate to see anyone I know and love grieving, but it was nice to know that Colby and I weren’t doing it alone. We were able to skype with our parents who all live in different states and they were able to see Elliston as well. Thank God for technology.

As the day went on, Elliston’s little body started changing. Colby told me that ultimately we would leave when I was ready, but I may want to start thinking about when that time would be. He let me know that he had been shielding me from the changes that were taking place but soon he wouldn’t be able to hide the changes. I felt so shallow knowing I should leave so I only had beautiful images of her in my head. I felt like such a bad mother CHOOSING to leave my daughter before they made me leave. But it was the right choice.
Everyone left us to have our final moments with our angel.For the first time she fit perfectly in my arms. I had been so swollen and hooked up to stuff and uncomfortable in the bed and emotionally absent while at the same time so overly emotional at times, that she had never fit just right in my arms.

When I held on to her for the last time, she fit effortlessly. Colby and I laid on the hospital bed holding our family tight. I can’t put into words what those moments felt like. Colby said he was going to pray and as much as I felt like God did not deserve to hear from us, it was all we knew to do. He kept telling God how pissed off we are at him for allowing this to happen. I still, 20 hours after she had been born, was thinking “God, if you could just have her start breathing, you can still fix this”.

I have no idea how long we laid and cried with her. We eventually had to call the nurse to come get her. Normal procedure was for us to leave her in a bassinet in the room and then leave. But I said I couldn’t do that. Something about me leaving her and walking away from her, I just couldn’t stand to do it. The nurse entered the room to take her. As she stood crying, she promised to take care of Elliston herself. She would not pass her on to anybody else. The next seconds turned into slow motion for me. Worse than any moment we had endured so far, or I believe will ever endure in our lives… placing my perfect baby girl in the arms of someone who would take her away from me forever, there is no greater heartbreak. 6 months later, I am still frozen in despair when I think about that moment. We walked out of the same hospital doors that for 9 months we had imagined walking out of with our baby. Now, empty handed.

Unfortunately, driving away from the hospital is not leaving the pain, the anger, the extreme sadness. It followed us. It changes. And it grows

- Tiffany Pitts