(This is a guest blog by Deborah about her daughter, Sydney. Thanks for sharing this with us, Deborah.)

My name is Debi and my daughter’s name is Sydney Michele. She was born still on October 20, 2012 at 38 weeks.

On October 18 I went to my OB for my 38 week check up. That day everything was great. At the doctor’s office we heard Sydney’s heartbeat and scheduled an induction for one week later. I went home and told everyone about how soon my baby girl was going to be here. The biggest worry we had was how would we occupy our time for a week. The next morning I woke up and started my day like usual chasing around two young boys. I ate my breakfast and drank my cup of coffee.

Shortly after my breakfast I was starting to realize that Sydney’s was not active. I tried to lay down and get her to move but was side tracked my boys fighting. A little while later I turned my attention to Sydney again and nothing, I couldn’t feel her move at all. Thankfully I have a doppler at home so I decided I would pull that out and my mind would be at ease. I brought it to the living room because the boys loved to hear the heartbeat. I tried to get something and nothing I didn’t find it. So I started to panic and went to the bedroom and locked the door. I tried again moving the doppler all over my belly. I kept telling myself “She is just hiding”. I could feel my own heart beating practically out of my chest.

I then called my husband and told him what was going on. He asked if I wanted him to come home from work and I didn’t know if he should, I would call my doc and let him know. So I called the doctor and the nurse said they would talk to the doctor and call me back. In the mean time I called my mom and told her I needed her there now. I felt like I was going to puke, and cry, and my heart was still pounding. My mom left work and came over, I got a text from my husband saying he was leaving work. Then I got a call from the doctor’s office saying to go to L&D. My mom got to the house and I told her what was going on, and after I got my oldest on the bus and my husband came home we left.

Off to the hospital. The whole way there I went through just about everything scenario in my head. If she is dead how will I tell people? How do you give birth to a dead baby? How do I tell her older brother she is not coming home? We got to the hospital around 12:30 and had to wait to register, that took forever. Finally they got us registered and we went up to L&D. They immediately brought us into a room and started looking for Sydney’s heartbeat. One nurse was picking up a heartbeat and kept saying it was Sydney’s but I could feel my heart beat and I knew the heartbeat they were picking up was mine. She had another nurse come in and check. They were great about trying to keep us calm, even though nothing was going to work with me at this point.

After about 5-10 minutes of picking up what I knew was my heartbeat they decided they would get the ultrasound machine in there. We waited for what seemed like another hour, in reality it was probably 10 minutes. When the ultrasound tech came in a could feel my whole body go cold and tense up. In my head I was thinking we will see her and she is doing great, but in my heart I knew that if she was ok they would have picked up the heartbeat on the monitor. The tech squirted my belly with the warm goo and put the wand down. I caught a glimpse right away and I could she were her heart was, but I didn’t see any movement. She moved the wand around and then she told us the words that will forever be grained into my head “There is no heart tone.” My heart broke, my husband feel onto me and we cried and screamed together.

How could this be happening? What happened in short time since my doctor’s appt? What did I do? Did I kill my baby? That day October 19, 2012 at 1:30pm was the day my life changed forever. They gave us sometime to hold each other and cry. But I knew that I would still have to deliver her. The doctor came in to explain to us what happens next. He gave us the option of a c-section but I knew I didn’t want that. I wanted this all to be done as quick as possible but I didn’t want to heal from a c-section and grieve over my dead baby. So we decided to start the induction. They moved me to the back corner of the birth center, and hooked me up to the IV. It was so quiet being in labor but not hearing the rhythmic tone of the baby’s heartbeat. My whole family came to the hospital to support my husband and I.

My labor progressed slowly, I labored through the night and woke up the next morning to find I was fully dilated. It was finally time to deliver Sydney on October 20, 2012 at 9:46am weighing in at 7lbs5oz and 20in long. I was all mixed with emotions. I was excited to finally see what this baby girl was going to look like. I was terrified of having to give her up. But most of all I was sad, sad that my baby is dead and this is my new reality. I pushed a couple times and out she came, so beautiful, so perfect. She was so warm and her skin was still pink. I held her and cried. We spent a little time with her before they took her to bath and dress her. They brought her back to us all dressed in her outfit that she should be coming home in but instead it is the first and only outfit she would ever wear. She was so beautiful with a head full of curly brown hair, blue eyes, such petite little features.I held her and all I could think was “wake up”.

We had a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep come. She took some amazing pictures. We held her all day, I cuddled with her, I kissed her, and told her I loved her, I smelled her hair, and tried to take in as much of her as I could. After about 12 hours I knew that it was time to say goodbye to her. They took her away and I fell to the floor. My heart ached to hold her again, to hear her cry. The next day we left the hospital with empty arms, to a house ready for a baby. After 3 months the hurt has faded slightly, most days I feel like I can function, but then you get swept away with grief and tears.

Thank you for letting me share my story.

(This is a guest blog by Nicole about her twin angel babies Arianna and Brianna. Thanks for sharing this with our community, Nicole.)

The story of my angels

I’m creating this blog so that I can some how communicate with my friends and family at moments when I am able… I feel so lost and confused but need to get words out… I need to let my story be heard and I want to honor my beautiful angels… Thru time and prayer, I find little windows of light… I want to use this blog during my healing, in hopes that it helps me to find peace… to find the new me.

In blessed honor and loving memory of my twin angel babies… Arianna K.E. Tam and Brianna K.T. Tam, I would like to share story of what happend… the day(s) my life changed and my heart broke…

Here we go…

Saturday, February 4, 2012… It was our 6th wedding anniversary… Shane was in Las Vegas and I was at home with the 2 girls… just relaxing and cleaning the house here and there when I had energy… I received a beautiful bouquet of roses and lilies in the early morning … I did 2 loads of laundry and made mac-n-cheese for lunch… Around 12:30pm, I was getting Jazlynn & Jayden ready for cheer practice when I began feeling “funny”… not in pain… but more like I had to “pee” really bad… I brushed it off and started to think “oh great! I have a bladder infection now.”

On the way to dropping of the girls, I called my cousin Val who works at the hospital… She told me to please go in and get checked… I dropped off the girls to practice, called the doctor from the car to let him know what I was feeling… he also told me to go in and get checked just in case… My sister was home so I asked her to take me to the hospital because I didn’t want to go alone… We reached the hospital (30 miles away) at 2:45pm…

By this time, I decided to text Shane to let him know that we were at the hospital but I didn’t want him to worry… I told him everything would be ok and it’s probably just gas or a UTI or something… But of course, he worried and was so scared…

After a few minutes, the doctor came in, I gave my urine sample… as I stood up, I felt a strong pressure pain like I had to push… It lasted for a good 2 minutes and I couldn’t even get on the hospital bed… after it was over, I climbed on the bed and the doctor checked me… I will never forget the look on her face when she told me that I was fully dilated with a bulging water bag… I began to cry so hard… with the very next contraction, my water broke…

Words cannot express the unbelievable pain and sadness I felt at that very moment…
My sister called Shane… We were all crying… Shane said he ran all the way to the room and packed his bags… he called his mom and asked her to find him a flight… no matter how much it costs, what time, he needed to get home to be with me…

I still remember seeing my OB doctor walk in and I just started crying… asking him what happened… what did I do?

The contractions seemed to be very far apart once my water bag broke… sometimes it felt like 5 minutes would go by between contractions… It was a very different pain… while I was having contractions, the nurse and my cousin Val kept having trouble finding the girls heartbeats… I had to turn from side to side…

My mom and Shane were calling my sister and Val the entire time… I remember hearing my sister and Val crying, telling me that Shane was crying and that he was so sorry for not being there with me… I remember wanting him to be with me… crying with me… holding me…

With each contraction, they got stronger, and the next thing I knew, Dr. Chang told me to just push when I felt the next contraction… So I did… I pushed twice before I heard “slow… slow, ok stop!” Arianna was born… it was 5:09PM… They held her for 60 seconds while she kicked and began taking her first breaths… I remember feeling relieved that she was moving and breathing… Her eyes were open too… After the 60 seconds, the handed her off to the Neonatal Resuscitate team….

My next contraction, Dr. Chang told me to push again… “slow… slow… ok stop!” Brianna was born… it was 5:14PM… They held her too for 60 seconds. Brianna had her eyes open, kicked great big kicks and took deep breaths, she even let out a little cry that I remember so clearly… it sounded like a little cat’s meow… I smiled… and in my heart, I knew she was my strong girl…

The rest was a painful blur… I remember being put under general anesthesia because my placenta wasn’t coming out… After waking up, I remember feeling a relief that both babies were alive, breathing, kicking, and both girls eyes were open… I felt calm… all I wanted was for Shane to be here with me… and I knew that he was on his way home and for some reason, I felt incredibly confident that my babies were ok…

My sister stayed with me all night until Shane arrived… When he walked in, I could see the hurt in his eyes… he had been crying… We immediately went to see the babies in the NICU.

Sunday night/Monday morning… Shane and I had just closed our eyes for a couple of hours when the Neonatal doctor on duty knocked on our door… He turned on the light and told us that Arianna was not doing good… he told us that she may not make it till morning… We got up and rushed down to be with her in the NICU… as soon as we got there, we were told that they just stabilized her… Shane and I spent so much time with Arianna… they let us touch her and we told her to be strong and how much we loved her…

While we were there, we stopped by to visit Brianna, who was stabilized as well… We talked to her and told her to be strong like her sister… we told her how beautiful she was and that we loved her so very much…

After a few hours, we went back to our room to try to get some sleep… We woke up at 6:30am so that we could go down to see the girls… As soon as we got there, we noticed that there were at least 10 doctors and nurses around Brianna… we were so scared… we didn’t know what was happening… The nurse supervisor on duty sat me down and told me that Brianna’s lungs were failing and that they are trying to get oxygen into her… My body was numb… I just stared at all the doctors and nurses helping Brianna…

Before we had to leave (7:00am nurse shift change), we stopped by to visit Arianna… she was so peaceful and sleeping… she was stabilized but her blood pressure was very low… Shane and I said a prayer for both our babies then left the NICU until we were allowed to go back at 7:30am…

I remember as soon as we got back to our room, I brushed my teeth, then our hospital room phone rang… They were losing Brianna, we needed to get back there right away… Shane and I rushed down… They told us not to wash our hands, to come quickly and sit down, she wasn’t going to make it much longer… The doctor placed little Brianna in my arms… She was so beautiful… I cried like a baby for the first time in a long time… she was gone… My little sweet sweet angel Brianna grew her angel wings in my arms…

We got to spend time with Brianna in a private room for families… it was so hard… I felt like a part of me had just died with Brianna… she was gone and so was I… We asked if we could take Brianna’s body to be next to her sister… the nurses said we could… As soon as we brought Brianna to Arianna’s side, Arianna’s stats started to do better… as if she knew her sister was near…

We had love for our little Brianna… she was an angel in heaven… and we had hope for our little Arianna… that she would pull thru and make it pass this day…

But after a couple of hours… we were told in a panic that Arianna’s heart was dropping, to come quick… there we were again… being rushed to sit down as they quickly placed my little sweet sweet Arianna in my arms… I held her little body as she drifted on to heaven… growing her wings as I held her and cried…

With my 2 angel babies in my arms… I felt an incredible pain that I just cannot explain… I remember having horrible thoughts about wanting to be with my babies no matter what it took… I remember wanting to scream at the top of my lungs… I remember crying so hard that I felt like a little baby… I couldn’t breathe… I couldn’t think… I couldn’t do anything but feel guilt, grief, and a broken heart… I was numb and lost…

What is my life supposed to be like now… How am I supposed to live without my 2 precious babies… I pray to God to help me heal… to help me see the light….

My sweet sweet angels… Arianna & Brianna, February 4-6, 2012… I love them with every ounce of my being and miss them with every beat of my heart…

Angels: Arianna & Brianna
Born: February 4, 2012
My original due date: June 2, 2012
Weeks Pregnant: 23 weeks exactly
Arianna’s Weight: 1lb
Arianna’s Height: 10 7/8″
Brianna’s Weight: 1lb 3oz
Brianna’s Height: 12″

(This is MaryGrace’s story by her mother, Alison. Thanks for sharing your story with us Alison.)

My name is Alison, and this is the story of my daughter, MaryGrace.

October 22, 2010, was the greatest day of my life. I found out I was pregnant for the first time. My husband and I had gone through a rough patch and things had started to finally look up for us. This was just icing on the cake! I just couldn’t believe I was really pregnant!

I was told I would be watched closely due to having high blood pressure, but every time I got checked, my blood pressure was great. The first trimester went okay. I had a lot of nausea in first few weeks and ginger ale had become my best friend! I had a few scares too. I went to the ER due to feeling pain early in my pregnancy but was told that it was just due to the uterus stretching and then when I hit my 2nd trimester my heart would skip a beat. But I was check out and told it was due to being pregnant.

My husband and I wanted to be surprised and not know if it was a boy or a girl. I took a deep breath once we got through the first trimester. January 25, 2011, I felt the first movements of my baby. It was so exciting and I know my husband was disappointed that he could feel our baby yet, but was still excited. Everything was going well and I started buying baby things and was still in this magical bubble.

February 19, 2011, I was getting ready to go to work. I was brushing my teeth when all of a sudden I threw up. That had never happened to me before, but I knew a friend of mine who always got sick when she brushed her teeth when she was pregnant. I felt fine, so I didn’t think anything about it. When I got to work (I’m a nanny) I felt hungry as I fed my kids breakfast. I ate a banana but it wasn’t going down so well, and got sick again. I was praying that it wasn’t the flu! I also started to feel pressure down low and thought I was getting a UTI. I got sick a few times the rest of the day. Since the next day was Sunday, I went to quick care because the pressure got worse and I knew it was a UTI. I was asking the doctor if the pressure I was feeling was normal and he said it was. He asked me if I was having contraction and I told him that this was my first baby and had no idea what they felt like. He explained them to me, and said if I wasn’t feeling better by Tuesday to see my OB.

Monday I was feeling a little better and the pressure had lessened some. I knew the meds were working, and was glad. That evening though, things started getting worse and I knew I had to call my OB the next day.

I called and got an appointment with my OB’s nurse practitioner. I went in, did a urine test and she said I still had the UTI. I was 21 weeks along. My blood pressure was good and the baby’s heart rate was 160. She told me she was going to do an internal exam just to make sure everything was okay. As she was down there looking, she stood up and said she wanted another doctors opinion on what she was seeing. I started to panic. The other doctor came in and looked, the looked at me and said I’m dilated to 4 and my bag of water was protruding. She was admitting me to the hospital right away. I couldn’t believe this was happening, and just cried.

The doctors office was connected to the hospital so they got me set up right away. They tilted me on my head to keep pressure off my cervix. I called my husband at work, and someone had to contact him and said he would have him call me. I called my mom next and she came right away. As I waited for my mom, my husband called and told him what was going on and he left work right away.

My mom came and then the fetal medicine doctor came in. He did a transvaginal ultrasound and told me that my cervix is so then, that he didn’t think he could sew it shut. They told me if I was in labor they could stop it, but I wasn’t. The took vials and vials of blood and later told me I had a severe infection. The doctor told me the next 24 hours was critical and would see if the medicine they were giving me helped. If they did, I would have an amnio the next day to check the progress of my baby. I was tilted the rest of the night and the following morning.

I couldn’t sleep, all I could do was cry and pray. My husband stayed with me all night but went home to let our dog out and shower. While he was away I had the amnio and the doctor who did it was so mean and had no bedside manner. My baby’s heart rate was good but the doctor told me the fluid was cloudy and that’s not a good sign. I called my husband and told him what the doctor had said. When my hubby returned the doctor on call came in and told me the medicine wasn’t helping like they hoped and there was an infection in the amniotic fluid and I had no choice but to deliver. If I didn’t, the infection could get into my blood stream and I could die. They told me I should go quickly due to the fact I was already dilated. I told the doctor I didn’t want to feel anything and ordered me an epidural right away.

Again that night I didn’t sleep. Even with a sleeping aide. I was in labor for 16 hours. On February 24, 2011, my daughter MaryGrace was born. She died during birth as her cord got compressed since she came feet first. She was born at 6:22 am weighing 11.4 oz and 9 1/2 in long. She was so beautiful. She looked like my husband. We had her baptized in the hospital and spent all day with her. I was kept over night again, and with a sleeping aide I finally slept. The next day I got to eat and was able to get up and move around. My doctor came in and told us that I could stay another day if I wanted. I just wanted to go home. The nurses were so great and took a lot of pictures and gave us keepsakes of her foot prints and such.

We said our final good byes to our only child and left with only a bag of memories instead of our daughter. It will be 2 years this February that our daughter will be gone, and it still hurts. The hurt never goes away. I miss her and think about her everyday. When someone doesn’t understand what a still birth feels like, I explain it like this… When your baby dies, a piece of your heart goes with them and you have to learn to live without that missing piece.

My husband and I are still chasing our rainbow. No matter how many babies we have, it will never replace her. Mommy and daddy love and miss you so much MaryGrace!

All our love, hugs and kisses we send to you in heaven!

(This is Claudette Elyse’s Story by her mom, Alyvia. Thank you for sharing this with our community, Alyvia.)

In July of 2011 we lost our beloved identical twins at 10 weeks. I was so afraid to tell my very ill mom, Claudette, who herself was a twin, as I knew she would hang on until they were born.

We got pregnant again and decided to hold off on sharing our story until we at further along this time. Mother’s Day weekend seemed the perfect time to share our happy news. The news was put on hold however because my mom took a turn for the worst and was hospitalized on Mother’s Day. She never came home. On her death bed I told her I would name this baby after her not knowing that the meaning of Claudette was “dies young”. We added Elyse “God’s vow” as a strong middle name and offset the meaning.

Everyone found out I was pregnant at my mom’s funeral because I was too big to hide it anymore. It was so bittersweet; the hope that 6 months later would bring the birth of Claudette after the death of my mother. That was not to be and at a doctor’s visit 5 days before I was to deliver we found out Claudette Elyse had went to be with her grandma long before we wanted.

That was 10 weeks ago. I started a grief blog as an attempt to not go into an insane asylum. You can find it here.

This is our story:

To think where I was mentally and physically eight weeks ago sends chills down my back. About this time my nurse Maggie was prepping my belly for delivery. As I said my tearful goodbyes to family, I knew mentally there was no turning back at this point, but emotionally I was not about to accept this reality.

A comment from my endocrinologist’s nurse kept repeating itself in my mind, “maybe they were wrong. Maybe she did have a heartbeat.” I said a the same desperate prayer over and over as we wheeled down the hallway, “Help them to be wrong! Lord, help them to be wrong!”

My husband was at my side as they pulled her out. I heard a CRY! I heard a CRY! “Dustin did you hear that? She CRIED,” I whispered to him. ”No hunny, there was no cry,” he responded flatly.

“11:30″ Was called out. I got excited. I started thinking that about the other kids time of birth. They all were born right about lunch time (always ready for a meal my kids). Wait…was that her time of birth or death?

Dustin rushed to her side at the scale. All I remember was seeing her perfect fat leg and foot straight up in the air as they weighed her. “11 lbs, 13 oz”. Wow!! No wonder I could barely walk or stand for that matter. They told me a lot of that was her fluid overload.

Dustin picked her up and brought her to me. At this point I had no intention of even holding her. I looked at her and immediately thought back to nursing school. My first experience in pediatrics was with a mother who had found out her 3 week old had a massive brain tumor and wouldn’t make it. I was the one who gave this little boy his bath and dressed him for his baptism. I was the one who held him as he was dying. I remember not understanding why the mom just rocked in the corner and wouldn’t hold or touch him. I understood now. But her story was not my story. ”Give me her!” I practically yelled at Dustin.

It is a moment I can’t explain. She was THERE. I had dealt with many deaths in my years as a nurse, the soul always leaves almost immediately with the last heartbeat. You can feel it, see it, sense it. This is NOT what happened with Claudie. She was as there as a screaming baby. I felt it, saw it, sensed it. I thought I was loosing my mind but everyone commented on her presence.

There is NOTHING in this world I have experienced like holding her. It was amazing. It was as close to God I have ever felt. We went on to spend the next several hours with her. My sisters held her. My dad and in-laws held her. My aunts held her. My sweet friends held her. No one was left untouched after holding her.

A picture of Aunt Candy (who incidentally looks the most like my mom) holding our Claudette.

For some reason at this moment I thought what I suppose any mother at this point would think. What will her siblings think of her? We had discussed it was too much their little 4 and 3 year old minds, so had decided against it. Something was pulling at my heart strings though. I kept hearing a little hazel eyed four year old excitedly expressing his wish to hold his sister. We talked about it almost everyday for the last 8 months. “I want Henry to hold her!” I blurted out. ”No sweetheart it is too much.” At the exact moment my sister walked in, “Henry won’t stop asking to come in here.” Thank you Lord for answering the question for me. Dustin was hiding in the corner with Claudie so as not to scare him when he first walked in (her skin was sluffing by now). I pulled Henry to my side. I said, “you know your baby sister is not going home with us right?” “Yes”. “Well she is here now Henry. Would you like to see her?” “Yes”. Dustin turns around and the rest was beauty revealed. He took his little hand and rubbed her little head (something frankly I was afraid to do) and kissed it. “You’re pretty,” he said so matter-of-factly that it shocked me. “Do you want to hold her?” “Yes”. So he did and looked at her the same as he looked at little sister Amelie when she was born. He saw her no differently. Then he said, “I want to go play with my legos now.” PERFECTION. He loved her as only a four year proud brother could.

My dear bereavement nurse, Tricia, who hadn’t left my side at this point asked how we wanted it to go from here. I knew what she meant, but how was I to answer? Do I want hours more? Do I want days more? What I wanted was a lifetime more! But my nursing instincts took over my desires as a mommy. I told them to come get her at 5pm so they could take her to Children’s Mercy for the autopsy. Dustin chimed in, “can we make 5:30?” I told them to come get her at 5:30pm, no questions asked. I told them to ignore what would be said and just take her. Mommy instincts were kicking in now. I knew that I would never actually be able to say goodbye.

We asked for a moment to just be with her. So Dustin, myself and our precious baby girl attempted to do what most do after a long birthing day, nap. We did not nap. But we did not speak either. I held her curled up in my left arm. Dustin held my right hand. We just sat there. We didn’t cry for fear we would waste valuable time with our daughter weeping.

Dustin took this of me holding her as we sat quietly.

The way the hospital is angled makes for incredible views of sunsets. We learned this the week with spent with mom before she died. November 29, 2012 was no exception. We had a large labor room with a large window. The sunset hit her face in the most angelic way. I felt her body grow heavy and cold. I felt her spirit leave. It was 4:50pm. I looked at Dustin and whispered, “she’s gone.” He said, “I know.” I gave her to Dustin and never held her again. We continued to spend the rest of time with her and gave everyone one last chance to come in and kiss her goodbye.

You can see the sun hitting her face as she laid in my arms.

5:30pm on the nose. The nurse came in with a Moses basket and took her from Dustin’s hands as he screamed, “no”. There were lots of screams and cries. I don’t know from who or what was being said. I only remember me watching my dad and husband embracing and crying so loudly that it startled me. I lay there shaking from the hormone shifts looking around like a deer caught in headlights. I didn’t know what to do. I still don’t.

Thanks for sharing it,
Alyvia Elliott

(This is a guest blog by Danielle about her daughter Kailen. It was 6 years ago today that they found out they lost Kailen. Thank you for sharing this with us.)

Today was the day 6 years ago today that I found out I lost my baby girl.

The day started out as any other day of the week. I woke up got showered and ready, got the kids ready and off to school/grandmas went about my day at work. Noticing that Kailen wasn’t moving much if at all. I went to Stop & Shop and picked up dinner, saw Kristin, went and got the kids from grandmas and went home. It was then that I realized that something was NOT right. Kailen hadn’t moved at all. I expressed my concern to Eric who then got me a glass of apple juice and I also ate a granola bar in hope that the sugar would get her moving. Stillness. I called my OB who instructed me to go to the hospital and get monitored. He was very calm and said that she might just be turned and kicking on the inside so that I didn’t feel her. I had hoped his thoughts were true. My dad came over to watch the boys as Eric and I anxiously went to the hospital.

As we checked in the the maternity area I kept pushing on my stomach in hopes that I would feel movement, nothing. After getting signed in and into a room Eric had to wait while the nurses took me in to hook up the fetal monitor. There as the nurse searched and searched I could see concern in her eye as she kept moving the wand on my belly. She asked how far along I was, “28 week”s I responded. Suddenly we heard a heartbeat, but it was mine. In that instant I knew we lost her. I started to cry, Eric was not in the room with me and I so desperately needed him. The nurse squeezed my hand and said “There is still hope” and went off to get Eric. He came in and he knew by the look on my face that it was not good. The dr then had me go for an ultrasound and we were wheeled over to radiology and what seemed like eternity, Eric and I cried, prayed and cried as we waited for the dr to come. I laid on that cold table looked up at that screen. As soon as the wand was on my belly we saw Kailen, but she was still. NO movement, NO kicking NO heart beating. The dr said.” I’m sorry, your baby is not alive.” In that moment I looked at Eric as tears welled up in our eyes. My worst fear came true. Our baby was dead. I felt like I was in a nightmare. Our whole world came crashing down.

We were wheeled back to a private room where the nurses put a note on our door, the note no parent would ever want to have on their door in the maternity ward. We called our family and pastor. Our family came and comforted us. Our doctor decided to deliver Kailen in the morning. I didn’t sleep that night as I laid in the hospital, I questioned God “WHY?” Why did this happen? Why me? I was in shock.

That morning I was prepped for surgery. There was no joy in that operating room, no anticipation of hearing a little baby’s cry, but pure silence and sadness. At 8:30 am she was born. Silence. We were able to hold our little girl in recovery for a while and our family was able to say hello and good bye. Our little girl weighed 3 lbs and 15 inches long. We named her Kailen Marie. When the nurse came after a while to take Kailen to the morgue, I asked to hold her a bit longer because once she was gone, I would never see her again we said hello and goodbye in those moments. I wanted to take in her features, she looked so much like my other boys, and she was absolutely beautiful, 10 little fingers and 10 little toes I didn’t want to forget what she looked like. I left the hospital two days later with a certificate with her birth weight, tiny footprints a knit hat and the gown she wore as we held her. It then hit me I just gave birth but I will never see my little girl againI never thought in a million years that I would have to bury my own child. And I had to tell my boys who were anxiously awaiting the arrival of their little sister. How do I explaine death to a 2 and 4 year old at the time? Thankfully we did it in a way that they comprehended best we could. I am grateful that I did get to bond with my daughter those 7 months I carried her. And she did leave a mark on me, a stretch mark above my belly button that I cherish. I will never forget her mark on me. And we will always keep Kailen’s memory alive in our hearts.

Tomorrow is Kailen’s 6th Birth-into Heaven day. Kailen will always be part of our lives.

~ Happy Birthday to you Kailen! We love and miss you!~

Eric & Danielle Leacock

(This is a guest blog by Paul De Leon about losing his daughter Bella. He tells it from her point of view. Thank you for sharing this stunningly beautiful story with us Paul.)

Ever since Dr. Aden told us that they were unsure exactly what happened to Isabella, my heart and mind have raced desperately to create a scenario. We were told that it most likely involved her umbilical cord. After we delivered Bella they said they didn’t notice any type of distress involving her neck and that the umbilical cord looked, although slightly small, completely normal.

This pointed to only one other logical explanation. At some point on Thursday, March 4^th, Bella must have gotten into a position that compressed the cord. Dr. Aden, through a steady but caring voice, told us that if this lasted more than 5 minutes, our sweet girl would’ve lost consciousness and then passed away.

I have tried to gather peace from the fact that she wasn’t in pain. That she didn’t struggle and fight. Although five minutes, when timed, seems like an eternity to me, I find peace that she was most likely asleep and didn’t know she had compromised herself.

Dr. Aden also pointed out that usually when a baby gets themselves into an uncomfortable position, they shift and make adjustments. The fact that Bella didn’t, also allows me to believe that she was sleeping.

Even if I am 100 percent wrong in my assumptions and my story, it is what helps me cope. I hate the idea that she is just gone, that she is in the spirit world, that she is just out there floating around with God. I need a better picture. I need something I can visually see.

With that being said, this is my account as I believe it happened. However, I am not telling the story. This story is from Isabella’s point of view. She is the one talking, describing and telling us what happened that day and after.

Thank you for reading.

Bella’s Story

Wednesday night all was calm. The pushing and prodding had finally subsided. I felt people pushing and pulling at me earlier in the day. I would have been more compliant, assuming I knew what they wanted from me, had I not been trying to sleep.

Sleep has been difficult lately, especially when someone is nudging and poking at you. At first they would only bother me every once in awhile but lately it seemed that someone was pushing above me and below my body almost every week.

“What did they want?” I often thought. The thought went unanswered as it always was. Tomorrow would most likely bring another series of pokes and exams.

Today is Thursday, or so I’m told. Mommy must have been really busy because we were moving non-stop. Right when I would get comfortable, she would take off again. She told someone she was going to work earlier. I could hear music and the laughter of other children for most of the day. I wonder what my mommy does at work.

Time has been going by so slow. I just want to meet her. I have heard people talking when they push on me. I think they are preparing to help me enter the world. I don’t know how much longer I have to wait but I know that it seems to be getting closer. In the meantime, I have been practicing breathing on my own. It’s a rather impressive trick.

You see although I am not required to breathe yet, my lungs have developed and have begun mimicking the motion that will become reality when I enter the world. Not only that but I’ve been growing like a weed the last few weeks. I’m pretty sure I put on at least a pound in just the past few days. That’s not all my doing, apparently mommy loves chicken nuggets, I admit, I do too.

My hands and arms are long and I can reach so far in all directions. Sometimes, for fun, I extend my entire body and let out a long stretch. For some reason every time I do, mommy grunts and pushes on me again. It’s not a bunch of people like the other times. I think it’s just mommy. I feel her hand press gently and search. I hide from her sometimes.

I think I know what she wants. As soon as I stretch or kick at her, I hear her giggle. I smile too. I love her laugh. Her voice is what soothes me when I am in discomfort. I hear another voice nearby when mommy laughs. A deeper but caring voice echoes into my home. He seems equally pleased with my stretching. I wonder who he is.

I’m ready to meet them. I know they think they have been waiting for me, but I have been waiting for them even more. I know it will be soon. I can just tell. I’ve began to twist and turn myself to be ready to enter the world. Sometimes when I move, I experience displeasure so I have to adjust to get comfortable. I just want to sleep for awhile and then I can try again to get into position.

♥♥♥♥

The house is quiet now. All the sounds are gone. I feel my eyes blink. Each time they do, they get heavier. I just want to sleep. Mommy is comfortable now it seems. Her soft snore, tells me she is sleeping also. I think I will join her and get some rest.

I twist and turn to get comfortable and finally find a spot that I like. My eyes shut and my heart beats a little slower. I am so tired that I didn’t even notice the little bit of discomfort the new position had put me in. Nor did I realize the position I now was falling asleep in would disconnect me from everything I was looking forward to. I drift off to sleep, deeply, comfortably, resting.

After what could not have been more than four or five minutes, brightness caused me to squint my eyes. I tried to open them but I couldn’t.

“Bella” the deep voice called my name.

It startled me at first. I stretched my arms and my legs and noticed my location was different, quite different. There was nothing to kick at now. I could not push on the walls that had held me before.

“Bella”

Again the voice shook me. It was a deep voice but not like the voice I had been hearing before. This voice smiled constantly. It was a voice that was caring, happy and if I strained a bit, even a hint of sadness. What was there to be sad about? I was entering the world now. I was about to meet mommy. I was about to meet everyone.

The thought excited me and forced me to open my eyes at once. Again the brightness was overwhelming, it pushed my eyes back shut but I pushed them open again. I tried to take in what was around me. It was only beauty. I knew no other words to describe it. I felt myself smile. I felt my feet warm against the grass.

I looked down. I was standing. How? My toes stretched apart and wiggled in the green blades. The ground was soft and cushy. I bent my knees and sprang a little bit. I noticed my hands. I pulled them up to my face and tickled my nose. I laughed at myself. What is all of this?

I was taller, almost instantly. It had only been moments since I had settled in to take a nap and now I was standing. My body was full and developed. Music was whistling through my ears though I couldn’t place the direction. It was atmospheric.

“Bella.”

Again, the voice called out. Much like the music the voice too filled the air rather than coming from a certain position. I twisted and turned to see who was calling me. As I turned my eyes danced across the most beautiful scenery I could have imagined.

Tall buildings decorated by magnificent architecture reached impossibly high into the perfectly clear blue sky. Before the buildings, a crystal clear lake, almost like glass, rippled with ease. Lush green tropical plants and trees painted themselves along the banks in vibrant colors. Animals of all sorts bounced, hopped and ran around.

I took a step out of the soft grass and my foot stood on a firm foundation. I looked down and noticed the gold street beneath my toes. I wiggled my toes once again and for the first time noticed that my toenails were painted pink. I laughed.

“Bella.”

This time the voice came from right beside me. Although someone was standing near, he drew no shadow. Strangely where he stood was even brighter than the impeccably pleasing day. I didn’t fear him. Somehow I was unable to be afraid. I was in complete peace and comfort although I had no idea where I was or who was calling my name.

I turned and looked into the face of the one who was calling me. “Mommy?” There was no answer. I stepped closer and peered into the brightness. Suddenly open arms and hands were bending down towards me. I reached out and placed my hands into his. For the first time I noticed how small I was.

My round chubby hands fit easily in the middle of his. My finger’s rubbed over a scar that I noticed was in both hands. Still no fear overcame me. I couldn’t be sad. I couldn’t cry. I couldn’t be afraid. His hands left mine and reached up under my arms. In one swift motion I was light and gliding towards him.

He pulled me in closer to him and I finally saw his face. His eyes were radiant. A color not yet discovered. Warm and loving, they displayed his joy at holding me. I felt at ease also. My pouty lips attempted a smile and succeeded. He smiled back at me. More brightness came forth. He pulled me even closer to his face.

“My sweet Bella.”

Mommy? I was still confused.

“No sweet girl. It’s not mommy.” That hint of sadness I had detected earlier, spiked.

A small feeling of emptiness set into my stomach. As I watched his face a tear began to form and dropped majestically down his smooth skin. For the first time I noticed I was also crying. I also realized I wasn’t going to be meeting mommy.

As if he had read my mind, he quickly pulled me in and embraced me. My head was flat against his broad shoulder and the warmth soothed me beyond anything I could have ever imagined. My tears shifted from the sadness I sensed into complete joy. It had been confirmed that I was always going to be safe from now on.

He held me there for quite some time. I didn’t want to let go, neither did he. After several minutes, the embrace lost a little bit of its fervency. He placed me back onto the grass and I sat down. He sat down beside me and held my hand.

“So I’m not meeting mommy?” I asked while pulling at the green landscape.

I didn’t see him smile, but I felt him smile. I didn’t know that was possible. He squeezed my hand.

“Yes child, you will meet her.”

Suddenly I perked up. I stood up and faced him with overwhelming excitement.

“I get to meet her?” I nearly yelled.

He laughed and shook his head, “Yes, you will.”

“Oh when? When, when, when? I want to meet her!”

“One day, I promise. You will meet mommy and daddy!”

Daddy. That’s the name of the other voice I would hear. The deeper, caring voice. Enthusiasm covered my entire body and I noticed I was now dancing around with glee. I hopped, skipped and rolled around the grass. He laughed heartily.

“Bella”

I rolled once more and came to a stop on my back. I tilted my head up and looked at him.

“Yes?”

“Come here.” I obeyed. “Before you meet mommy, there are a few other people I want you to meet.”

I felt my face form a question.

“Other people?”

I stood up and walked towards him. He took my hand and we made our way back to the street of gold. He extended his hand and pointed. My gaze followed its direction. Just on the horizon of the streets stood a large mass of people. There were faces I somehow knew and faces with smiles just as bright as the one who held my hand.

“You are home, Bella.”

I looked up at him and agreed with a nod. I started to move but for the first time since I had arrived here, I looked back over my shoulder. My eyes dug into the street and beyond the grass. I strained to see her. For a split second I got a glimpse.

There was my mommy in the hospital bed. The caring man, daddy, stood next to her, holding her. They were both crying. I noticed that the tears they were shedding were not of happiness but from a broken heart. I tried to get their attention. I wanted to let them know it was okay, that I was perfectly safe.

I called out but they didn’t seem to hear me. As I watched them hurt for me I realized how much they loved me. I realized that maybe they were waiting for me more than I was waiting for them. I wanted to cry but instead a smile formed. The smile was created at one thought. I knew I was going to meet them, it was just going to be delayed a little bit longer. I blew them both a kiss and turned back towards my new family. With one step I was instantly next to the large group of people. Laughter, hugs, kissing and smiles started and to be honest they haven’t stopped since.

I am okay mom and dad. I am okay. I am home.

(This is Leo’s Story by his mother, Vicki. Thank you for sharing this with us, Vicki.)

I wanted to share Leo’s Story with you.

October 2011 - A month after marrying the man of my dreams we found out that our family was about to gain a much longed for member. Although unexpected we were overjoyed at the news. I immediately started to look up baby books online and our minds were filled with thoughts of the future. Our mums were both informed of our news. The rest of the family were told at Christmas. Everyone was so happy. We completed our Hypnobirthing classes, we wanted the best for our little man. He did have the best of everything, his grandparents had funded a very expensive nursery. A smooth and uncomplicated pregnancy followed. I had no complaints at all, no sickness, no aches and pains. It was an honour and a joy to carry Leo for 8 months. We played him music, read him books, and we were entertained by his jumps and kicks. We planned his life together.

Monday 11th June 2012 = worst day of our lives.

At around 10am I was at work and I realised that I had not felt Leo move that morning. At nearly 8 months pregnant I was used to his little routines and this was not normal for our boy. The previous night, cuddled in bed with Robin, he was jumping around and we both fell asleep with our hands on my belly. I went into an empty room at work, starting rolling on the floor, giving him a nudge in places that would usually provoke a reaction but he didn’t move. I panicked. I called the hospital and they told me to come straight in. I then called my husband and my mum.

I remember thinking on the train journey from work to the hospital that they would tell me he was ok. Robin met me at the train station, he was worried. During the drive from the train station to the hospital he had one hand on my belly saying “come on wee man, move for your Dad” but nothing.

Once at the hospital we waited. I remember a girl coming in and broadcasting that her friend was here and she wasn’t keeping the baby. That made us angry. We were 2 desperate and scared parents and there was someone throwing away their little miracle. We were taken by a midwife into a private room with a bed. I lay there with Robin by my side whilst she used the Doppler to find Leo’s heart beat, they couldn’t. Another midwife (Sara who would go on to deliver Leo) tried and again nothing, she said he may be hiding from her. By this time we are in tears. We were taken to the scan room, where we had first seen our little angel at 12 weeks and 20 weeks. This was to be a different experience. The worst moment of our lives was about to happen.

By this time my mum was with us. The three of us went into the room and I lay on the bed. The midwife put the sonogram on, she said there’s baby’s head, then she moved and all I could see was a still heart. I said “where’s his heartbeat?” to which she replied “I’m sorry Vicki there isn’t one”.

Our lives crashed around us. Our hearts broke into a million pieces. I heard Robin let out a cry of NO. I grabbed onto him and then I just screamed over and over no no no. At the time I didn’t realise that the sound I heard was coming from me. The three of us just clung to eachother. I literally had to pick Robin up from the floor. Seeing the man I adore completely broken was so painful. Knowing our wee man was gone was unbearable. How? Why? And again - How? That was all I could think. I steeled myself and asked “what happens now, just tell me”. I honestly expected to see our little boy on the sonogram alive and well, just worrying his mum and dad for nothing. Looking back now, the nurses that passed us on our way to the scan all had this look - there’s that couple that have lost their baby. I just didn’t realise it at the time.

When the Doctor came to see us to explain what would happen none of us really took it in. We were told that I would have to take a pill and come back in the next day. I took the pill there and then to start labour and then we left. They let us use the back exit. I suppose so we wouldn’t see all the expectant mums and the parents taking their new borns home.

Walking to the car, Robin and I made a promise to eachother. This would never break us. Nothing will ever break us. We are and always will be Leo’s mummy and daddy.

Back home I went up to Leo’s nursery. I crumpled to the floor and cried and cried and screamed. Robin held me. Robin’s mum had arrived at the house. She stood with my mum in the nursery. All four of us, just crying. All the hope and anticipation for our little man – gone. The rest of the night passed in a blur. We decided to sleep on the sofa, if sleep was ever going to come to us. We couldn’t face bed. We had only been in this house a matter of months. This was to be our wee man’s home. Everywhere I look I’m reminded of Leo and our plans for him. The kitchen cupboards full of his bottles, his steriliser on the worktop, his highchair in the corner, his pram in the hall, his nursery bursting at the seams with all of his things. I had never done anything in this house without Leo in my belly. We did eventually sleep, I remember waking at around 3am and looking at Robin asleep, wishing I could take his pain too. He was so devoted to our little family, how could this happen to him, he doesn’t deserve it. How could this happen to us? Our life together had been a fairytale until now.

The morning of Tuesday 12th June we were ready to go to the hospital for 8am. My mum took us. We arrived 3 broken people. Our midwife Gillian led us to our room. I remember sitting down in the room, Gillian took my hands in hers and together we just cried. I remember thinking how grateful I was that our midwife felt our grief. I would later realise that she would earn a place in our hearts forever.

Bloods were taken from me to be tested and make up part of the post mortem results. Another pill was given to me to bring on labour. I would have to take a pill every few hours until I was in full labour. Robin’s mum arrived about 12. Robin was struggling, both our mums and the midwife noticed this too. I worried that Robin would not be able to go through this whole process. Robin said that he was dreading Leo’s arrival as once he held Leo, he did not think he would be able to let him go again. This was a worry of mine too.

The hours passed with Leo not showing much signs of wanting to come out. The 4 of us, Robin and both of our Mums, passed the time just talking to each other with some tears but we were being strong for eachother. During this time we were to become closer than we thought possible. We have both always had a strong relationship with our mums but Leo brought us all that bit closer. I know now that both of Leo’s Granny’s now have a bond with eachother that will last a lifetime. I’m so grateful to have two wonderful women in my life, my Mum and my Mum in-law. Our midwive’s Gillian & Sara were in this with us too, they shared our grief. The end of Gillian’s shift came at 7pm, she was to pass our care over to Sara who we had met the previous day. Gillian would be back at 7am the next day and would take over our care then so we knew we would see her again and she would get to meet our Leo. She said a tearful goodbye.

As the night went on, labour advanced. I remember feeling grateful for the pain, I needed to feel something because since finding out Leo was gone I had only felt numb. Although, Leo was still not for coming out. In the early hours of the morning we were told that we might have to give up and start trying again the next day. I saw the look of devastation on Robin’s face, he couldn’t go through another day of this, spend another night waiting to meet our wee man. Sara said that she would ask if I could have a drip to speed things up. She then examined me and we were told “your baby’s head is there”. Finally. With Robin by my side, our little Leo came into the world silently at 3:40am on Wednesday 13th June weighing 5lb 5.5oz and measuring 47cm.

I will never forget Leo being lifted onto me, he was so so big. I had no idea such a big boy was in my tiny bump. I don’t know what I expected, no-one can prepare you. I think I expected a little fragile tiny version of a baby but he was so big. This made it harder to accept that he had gone. He looked so big and healthy. Looking at Leo’s face was like looking in the mirror. My nose, my eyes, my little boy, our son. We had spent so long wondering what he would look like, who he would take after, finally we could see his face. I didn’t shed a single tear when he was born because I had such an overwhelming feeling of pride. I had just delivered a beautiful big boy, our son. Seeing Robin hold our son was bittersweet, I could see heartbreak and pride in his face. Both of Leo’s granny’s joined us and so began our time with Leo.

Our family were told of Leo’s arrival and by 5am his Di, his great granny and his auntie had arrived to see him, followed by his papa, and his two uncles. We took lots of pictures. It was emotional but also a time we will all treasure forever. Leo touched all of our lives, he’ll have an impact on us all forever. Leo was dressed in a yellow suit that Robin had bought me for mothers day. Other clothes we brought for him were too small. He had impressively big feet and hands.

I had to go to surgery to remove the placenta, this left me exhausted. Our family left to let us have time with Leo. Robin and I fell asleep together with Leo beside us. When we woke up it was to see both of our midwives, Sara and Gillian, standing at our bedside looking at Leo. It’s an image that will stay with me forever. Both of our mums returned and the 4 of us spent the rest of our time in our little cocoon with our Leo. The chaplain came to bless Leo, he too cried with us. I felt safe in that room with our mums, Robin and Leo.

Leo’s skin was so soft, he was so beautiful. We spent our time admiring this amazing little person who we had created but would not get to see have a life. It was hard but still the most precious time in my life. I will forever remember and treasure our time with Leo. By 4pm that day we had braced ourselves to let Leo go. I think the only reason we managed that was because we were leaving him with Gillian. She would look after him for us. Gillian cried as she said goodbye to us.

We left the hospital with a box of Leo’s things. His name bracelet, his footprints and handprints and a lock of his hair. Other parents were leaving with their babies in a car seat but all we had was a box and our memories. By the time we arrived home Leo’s nursery was empty. His Di and his Papa had taken everything so that we did not have to go through it ourselves. It was still so hard to see his room empty. I felt empty. Empty belly, empty arms but a full heart.

Waking up in the morning is like being hit by train, the loss is unbearable. The tears come immediately, sometimes I wake to find I’ve been crying in my sleep. It’s the hardest thing in the world to lose a child. Not only have I lost our son but I have to watch the man I love suffer this loss too. Nothing can take away the pain. Knowing that my baby will never know what pain is is a comfort.

Getting through 1 hour is an accomplishment, then you focus on getting through the next hour, this eventually leads to getting through a day, then the next day you start again, one minute at a time, 1 hour at a time. Living in a world without Leo is just impossible. We cope, that’s all we can do. If I didn’t have Robin, I would be with Leo right now because I wouldn’t have the strength to carry on. My husband is my reason for living. He’s my reason to get up every morning.

People naturally want to know what happened, why did Leo die. People don’t want to ask but they want to know, and that’s ok. After Leo’s post-mortem we were told that he died of acute hypoxia which means that his oxygen supply was very suddenly cut off, but they cannot find a reason for this. Leo was a perfectly healthy boy, and no issues were discovered with the placenta or the cord. Doctors cannot give us a reason as to why this happened. One theory is that maybe there was a spasm in the cord, long enough to cut off Leo’s oxygen supply but that is just an educated guess. One of the hardest things is not knowing. So the official reason for Leo’s death is no known cause. I hate that sentence.

A Doctor who works closely with SANDS said, there is no such thing as no known cause, it is not enough research. That is why we created Team Leo, we have made a lifelong commitment to fundraise and direct all of our fundraising monies to research. Maybe in a few years, or 20 years or just some day there will be a breakthrough in research and maybe, just maybe, we might get a little closer to understanding why Leo is not here.

- Vicki McGowan Baird

(This is a guest blog about Gracie by her Grammy, Jamie. Thank you for sharing this with us, Jamie.)

I am Jamie. Gracie’s Grammy. Here is her birth story xx

Gracie’s Story… in Grammy’s Eyes…

Induction day!!! 39 3/7 weeks… we were ready! I was awake before the alarm clock at 4 am, 3-17-11. Our St. Patricks day sweetheart would soon arrive! I was up and ready before everyone else, I couldn’t wait to meet you! Finally, Mommy and I left for the hospital with Cousin Kiki trying to keep up behind us. We were pretty early so we chatted a bit in the car. I remember playing my I pod when “I kissed a girl” came on and I skipped it. Your Mommy said’ “Come on Mom, I know you wanna kiss a girl”. I replied, “oh, I will kiss a girl…a little baby girl”.

I never anticipated she would be an Angel.

Finally we checked into the Labor and Delivery unit with your diaper bag and car seat in tow. We were ready for the big day we had waited for for so long. Your Mommy changed and was hooked up to the monitors. The nurses couldn’t get your heartbeat. I thought nothing of it… you always tried to get away from the Doppler.

Finally, Dr. Meyer came in with a small ultrasound machine. I could not see her face, but I could see the small screen. I saw your face and chest, I saw no movement. I was not concerned. Maybe I was in denial, but it wasn’t until the doctor said you had no heartbeat that I realized what was happening. I cried out, in a voice that I am still embarrassed to say was mine. Upon leaving, the doctor gave me a hug. I whispered, “it wasn’t supposed to be like this”. It was the first time that day, but not the last, that phrase repeated itself in my head.

After crying with your Mommy, I went back out to the car to call your Papa. He was at the hospital to spend the rest of the day with us (dirty work boots and all). When I hadn’t heard from your Black Gramma, after a text, I headed back to the car and finally called her home phone when she answered. I told her you were gone. Her response to me was one I will never forget… oh my God… oh my GOD… OH MY GOD!!! The pain in her voice growing with each repetition. Your Black Gramma was going to come after her hair appointment but came immediately instead. We were so glad to have her there with us!

Induction started… cytotec, pitocin, rupture of membranes. Visitors included Uncle Ben (who was having surgery that day on the 3rd floor), Justine and Pastor Bonow. Though she was in so much discomfort, your Mommy didn’t agree to the epidural until we encouraged her. I think she wanted to physically feel the pain to match the pain in her heart. Shortly after the epidural, your Mommy dozed off… only a few minutes after, she awoke crying “Mommy”. I rushed to her side. She did not have to tell me what her nightmare was about. I already knew…how do you tell your child this was not a nightmare, but reality. Finally, around 5 p.m., Dr Meyer said she was complete, and that you were “right there” and you would come out with only “a couple pushes”. As they set up for delivery, I went back into the hallway, trying to stop my tears… “it wasn’t supposed to be like this”. After a few minutes, I joined your Mommy, Black Gramma, Aunt Kiki, Dr. Meyer and the nurses for your delivery.

First push - your Mommy gave it her all! You were almost here! Second push… Mommy started crying “I don’t want to do this”. Who could blame her? With encouragement from us, she pushed you into the world with the third push. You were born perfect, beautiful… and silent. You were handed off to the nurses after the Black Gramma cut your cord. I couldn’t take my eyes off of you. I whispered, “she’s so pretty, Jess”. I heard the doctor ask the nurses, “anything?” They just shook their heads, confirming our worst fears, you were already an Angel. Mommy asked what you weighed, so they got your stats: 6# 4oz and 20”. Finally we got to hold you, examine you… you were perfect.

They took you to the nursery where they cleaned you, dressed you and took some photos of you. We finally got you back and Pastor said a prayer and some blessings and we each got to hold you. We got pictures of us all together. Your Papa is one of the strongest men I know, and he got tears in his eyes as he held you. We baptized you with just me, Papa, Kiki and the Black Gramma as you witnesses. The Black Gramma did the blessing and said a prayer for you… it was beautiful.

I stayed with Mommy after everyone else left. They took you away “to someplace cold” and said we could have you back at 3 a.m. Mommy and I couldn’t sleep and were waiting on pins and needles for you to come back. True to their word, they brought you back in at 3. Mommy and I held you every second, we never put you down. We took pictures, looked at you, and touched you from head to toe, taking in every minute. Whenever Mommy took a potty break, I would cry, touch you and say, “Oh, Honey, please wake up”. I tried to be strong for your Mommy, but I felt so much pain. I asked God to stop my heart, so that yours might start!!! He said no. I cried so many tears, I have never felt a loss so great! You were so wanted, so loved. I hope you knew that!

Mommy decided that she wanted to go home so she was discharged from the hospital at 9 a.m. I brought the car to the front and went back to her room to gather her/your things. Before she handed you off to the nurse, she asked me, “do you want to say goodbye”. NO! Of course, I did not want to! I sobbed, as I gave you one last kiss on your forehead.

You had Papa’s chin dimple, Mommy’s nose, brown hair and brown eyes, and Grammy’s spider toes. You were a little bit of all of us. Maybe that’s why when you left, you took a piece of us all with you. I miss you so much, Grace. Our lives are empty without you. I had no idea how much such a little person could impact so many lives. I know you are with Jesus and so happy… I cannot wait to see you again! Just know how much Grammy loves you, and how my heart aches for you, my sweet Angel. We have started to call you God’s Grace, because you are His.

Until I see you again…

I Love You…Grammy.

P.S. A special Thank you to St Agnes hospital nurses: Cathie and Pam and extra hugs to Dr. Meyer

(This is a guest post from Jenn about her daughter Alexa Riley. Thank you for sharing this story and her picture with us, Jenn.)

I woke up thinking it was going to be like any other day and I remember being so excited to start reading the booklet I had gotten the day before at our newborn care class at the hospital. My mother in-law was getting ready to travel home to New Jersey after spending a week with us in Maryland and before my husband Eric left the house he kneeled down in front of me and started talking to my belly.

Eric talked to my belly often throughout my pregnancy and Alexa would always start moving around every time she heard his voice. This particular time we noticed that she didn’t respond at all to his voice which was very unusual. I thought maybe she was sleeping since I had been moving around most of the morning but decided to keep a closer eye on her kicks and movement over the next couple of hours. I drank a big glass of orange juice and laid down on my side, but I felt nothing. I called my OB and he said to head over to labor and deliver triage so they could check my vitals and make sure everything was okay with the baby.

I called Eric and told him to meet me at the hospital. I could sense the fear in his voice. Once i arrived I registered with the nurse and they took me into an exam room in order to listen to the baby’s heartbeat. The nurse used the Doppler monitor and said she found a heartbeat but it was very low 90-100BPM where it should have been 132-155BPM.

I thought to myself thank God at least there is a heartbeat and I’m in the best place I could be. Then my doctor came in and performed and ultrasound. I could tell he was having a hard time seeing what he needed to and he kept looking at the screen. He then looked over at me and said I’m so sorry but there is no heartbeat and your baby has passed. I was in shock and couldn’t believe it. My baby was gone…how could this be happening, when I just felt her moving around the night before. Then the doctor told me that the heart beat the triage nurse heard was my own and it was really elevated (it was not the babies).

My husband Eric arrived a few minutes after the doctor had given me the news. When he walked into the room I just looked and him and said, she’s gone, our baby is gone. He just looked at me in disbelief. We both just sat there and cried.

When my doctor came back into the room he told me that I would still have to deliver our baby and go through the whole labor and delivery process. I was terrified and still in shock. I couldn’t believe that I was actually at the hospital and I was about to deliver my baby but she would not be coming home with us.

At 5:43am on December 10, 2012 I delivered my daughter Alexa Riley Castronova. Alexa weighed 4lbs 7.8oz and was 17 inches long. I was 33 weeks when I gave birth and became a mom. My nurse wrapped Alexa up in a white towel and placed her on my chest. She was so warm and her skin color was just like mine.

She had the sweetest face. The face of an Angel.

She had 10 tiny fingers and 10 toes and looked perfect. There are no words to describe what it felt like to hold my daughter Alexa in my arms for the first time.

I was overwhelmed with all kinds of emotions from pure joy to extreme sadness and my heart was breaking more and more with every second that passed. She looked like a healthy baby that was just sleeping and absolutely perfect in every way…but she never woke up. I remember holding her and asking God, please just let her wake up and open those big beautiful eyes.

I placed my hand on her chest and begged her to breathe. My husband Eric held her little hand and we clung to one another, trying to figure out how we fell into this terrible nightmare and hoping beyond hope that we would wake up and our sweet girl would be alive. We felt lost, utterly lost.

What does one do in this situation? What the heck happened? How could our daughter be alive inside of my womb the night before and now she was gone, with no answers. Eric and I were devastated. We alternated holding one another and staring at one another in stunned silence, still trying to process the previous day/hours/minutes leading up to this moment.

After giving birth to my daughter all I wanted to do was hold her and tell her that mommy loved her and would never let anyone or anything ever hurt her but I already felt like I didn’t live up to that promise because she wasn’t alive and it was my job to protect her. She lived in my belly for 33 weeks, growing every day and after she was born I felt so empty inside. The hardest part was knowing that I gave birth to a baby girl but she wouldn’t be coming home with us. Our lives were prepared for a baby, we had 2 baby showers and the nursery was all set up. All of your hopes and dreams for your baby just get ripped away in a split second.

A part of me died that day. I remember looking at my husband Eric in the hospital and wondering how he had the strength to get up and put one foot in front of the other. He was handling all of the decisions as far as the cremation was concerned and calling all of the funeral homes and picking out urns etc. All the things that mark the end of an earthly life. I could barely keep it together and here he was trying to function so I didn’t have too.

Every time I saw my husband cry it broke my heart and made me feel like I’d let him down even though I know that none of this was my fault.

What made it even harder is that no one could give us any answers as to why this happened. It was labeled a “cord accident”. The doctor said I was healthy, Alexa was healthy and nothing came back in autopsy or blood tests of my placenta that would indicate any genetic disorders or any infections… it was as he said, simply an accident. The cord looked like it had gotten kinked or stretched and cut off blood supply to the baby which is something that cannot be prevented, it just happens in the blink of an eye.

In the beginning it was so hard to find comfort in knowing that it was a cord accident, especially when I knew that I did everything right. Alexa was so loved and her arrival was so anticipated. She was our first child and also the first grandchild on both sides of the family. The small amount of time we had with her in the hospital was so special and we will never forget a moment of it. Those moments are all we have and I only wish that it could have lasted longer. We left the hospital with lots of pictures, handprints, footprints and a lock of hair for keepsakes. We had the most amazing nurses who took wonderful care of us and my doctor was the best.

Our daughter lives, now and always, in our hearts and we will never forget her. She is our sweet angel and I know that we will see her again someday and she will be just as perfect as the day she was born. We have faith and believe that our daughter is in heaven with all of the other angel babies. Alexa touched all of our hearts so deeply even though she never took a breath here on earth. I’m hoping that the film Return to Zero will raise awareness on stillbirth and help other Angel Moms out there just like me.

We love you Alexa Riley Castronova

Love, Mommy & Daddy