Caleb's story, part 4: 18 precious hours...

"...Listen to my prayer for mercy as I cry out to You for help, as I lift my hands toward Your holy sanctuary... The Lord gives His people strength. He is a safe fortress for His anointed king. Save Your people! Bless Israel, Your special possession. Lead them like a shepherd, and carry them in Your arms forever..."
~ Psalm 28:2, 7-9

Day 22: My little bit of happy - my world is blanketed in snow, much like the day Caleb was born.

Dear Caleb,

Today I am going to tell the story of the 18 precious hours we spent with you (your physical body) at the hospital after you were born. I'm sure anyone who comes across my blog and trys to read your story must get frustrated trying to follow it, but this is my grief and my story and I'll tell the parts I'm ready to tell as I'm ready to tell them.

There is much I don't know of the first minutes after you were born. You were wrapped so tightly in your cord that they couldn't lift you more than a few inches off the bed.

At first I was too stunned and traumatized to even think of looking. I wish I had caught you with my hand rather than letting you land so unceremoniously on the bed. I wish I knew what you looked like laying on the bed before anyone touched you. I wish the nurses hands hadn't been the first to touch your body. I wish you hadn't died so you would have been able to stay in my body. Even though you were born because you had died, rather than dying because you were born, your being born was still so traumatizing for me. Everything in me rebelled against it!

They (Daddy, Grandma, and the nurse) realized I couldn't see so they pushed the blankets over my legs down and the nurse gently lifted you up as high as she could so I could see you. Your eyes were open, and your body was pathetically limp.

Your little leg kept falling out of her hand and she kept trying to curl it back up with your body. Your hands were on your tummy, one palm touching your tummy and the other one facing out. The cord was wrapped around your neck twice and then around your belly (under your arms) once.

It seems to me that if my doctor was right that you got wrapped up in the cord after death your arms would have been inside at least one of the cord loops.

The nurse reached to start untangling you and then decided the doctor needed to do it so she could see how it was wrapped around you. When they unwrapped you there was a white line around your neck - as white as the driven snow. Both the doctor and the nurse seemed certain that the cord was what caused your death. It certainly appeared that way!

Much of what followed is such a blur. Either just as or right before the doctor came in the room the nurse gently laid you back on the bed. The doctor cut the cord (I wish your daddy had done it!) and unwrapped you (I wish I had watched her - was the cord crossed over your left shoulder or your right shoulder as it came around your belly? Was it wrapped clock wise or counter clock wise? I wish I knew these things!).

I don't remember holding you until later? Did they not let me hold you for even a minute? If they had, certainly I would remember this???!!!???!!! I know time was of the essence in getting a piece of your tissue to test your chromosomes, but certainly I could have held you for a moment first? They took you over to the (cold) warming table and inspected you. I wish they'd done this part on my belly like they would have if you'd been alive. I want to know what they discussed, what they noticed and any significance of their observations. It was at this point that they took the tissue from your thigh (right below the swollen area from it being hung up on the cord). When the doctor was done with you she put you in a little bucket at the end of the bed and then checked to see what was going on with the placenta before ordering pitocin in my IV to help it to deliver. During this time the nurse picked you up to finally give you to your mommy (how many hands touched you before mine did???!!!) and I asked for the tiny blanket Grandma had brought for you. The tiny blanket was on top of another small (but much too big for a tiny guy like you!) blanket Grandma had brought.

We were concerned about you sticking to it so the nurse put you on a little sheet of plastic and put that on the blanket, but that didn't really work out. You just kept sliding off the blanket and it was too hard to handle you so I gently slid you off the plastic and onto the blanket. You stayed on the blanket. You left the hospital wrapped in it. You were buried wrapped in it.

Then the doctor left the room for a few hours. For the next 3 hours I would be left there with your cord hanging out of me with a surgical clamp attached to it. I had to ask the nurses to please change my chux pad (for I was still sitting in a big puddle of blood and amniotic fluid!). After the doctor left the nurse put you on the scale to weigh you. She had the wise suggestion that daddy take pictures of you on the scale with the scale reading. These pictures came in handy - in all the emotion of what was going on the scale was read to me wrong and there was some confusion in the days following your birth about how much you weighed. Another nurse came in to help my nurse take some pictures of you. These pictures are special, but as special as the ones taken by my dear friend!

While we were waiting for the placenta to deliver my friend Christina and her husband arrived. Christina is a photographer and I had asked her if she would come take some pictures of you. My expectation was that she would be able to get better pictures than we would with our dinky camera. She surprised me by showing up with all of her lighting equipment! The result is one of the greatest gifts I've ever been given. I have over a hundred images of you that detail exactly how you looked - in clear perfection. Every curve, every wrinkle, each intricate detail recorded with professional quailty. I will never ever be able to thank her enough!!!!

After a while the nurse came in to tell me that the doctor wanted to come back and see about that placenta. I told her we'd be ready in 10 minutes and Christina put her stuff away. After a few minutes the doctor came in and daddy put you in the bassinett and Mr. Novak took that as their cue to bow out for a while.

The delivery of the placenta was as difficult as delivering you was easy. Two different sized speculumns and a lot of digging around - it was very painful and agonizing. In the end it finally delivered, torn from the trauma of delivery. I would pass the remaining piece of it at home the following day.

Shift change occurred during this time. My nurse Dee left and was replaced by two nurses (one of which looked to be no more than 12 years old!). The younger nurse was new to the hospital and was being trained. The other nurse, Melissa, was wonderful. Every time she referred to you she called you by name. That meant SO much to me!

The doctor took a piece of the cord to be tested and that, the tissue from your leg, and the placenta were all sent out to be examined. Now 3 weeks later I still have not seen any of the reports on these. After ordering another bag of antibiotic and some medication to help me sleep she left and I never saw her again. It was late and I hadn't eaten all day so the nurses brought us some sandwiches and daddy went to see if he could find me a salad (I always crave salad right after I deliver a baby, I'm not really sure why). We left you in the bassinett for a while as we ate and then I called the nurses to tell them I was going to get up and go to the bathroom so they could come change the sheets. They also brought in a post partum bed for me and moved the L&D bed to the other side of the room for daddy to sleep in.

After they left us alone for a while we ate a bit and chatted before I needed to hold you again. Daddy handed you to me while I marvled over you and whispered words of love and apology over you. Eventually the nurses came in to give me my medicine and I handed you back to daddy. I got up and went to the bathroom one more time and then curled up with daddy in his bed for a while. The medication started to kick in so I reluctantly got up and moved to my bed. I was feeling very sick from the medicine (Percaset) so daddy let my nurse know and she came in and gave me some phengergan in my IV. I covered the bassinet with a receiving blanket in some kind of attempt to "protect" you and daddy turned the thermastat in the room so it would be colder in there. I wanted to sleep with you as I would have if you'd been born alive but you were SO tiny and fragile and I was "under the influence" so I didn't risk it. Then I crawled into my bed and went to sleep. I would rather have spent the night in daddy's arms, but I slept well.

When I woke up the next morning I ordered my breakfast and held you while I waited for it to arrive. When it came I handed you back to daddy while I ate and then I layed down to sleep for a little while.

About 9:00 the funeral home called to say they were on their way. At about 10:00 daddy woke me up to tell me they would be there soon. I told him to bring you to me. I rolled over onto my side and created a place for you to lay on the bed near my face. Daddy set you down on the bed and pulled his chair up and sat close - the three of us sitting there. We marvled over you and touched you and whispered love to you. And then all too soon the man from the funeral home arrived. And it was time to let you go. This was the hardest part of the whole situation. This was harder than the moment you were born. I handed you to your daddy with your little blanket, keeping the bigger one for myself. Daddy wrapped you with your tiny blanket inside of a receiving blanket, and then he covered your face with the top part of the blanket.

I couldn't bear it. I told him I had to see your face so he showed me your face one more time. I kissed your forhead and said good bye, and then daddy covered you one more time and took you out of the room.

You were born in that room at 5:18pm on January 8th, and you stayed in that room with us until 11:00am on January 9th. 18 imperfect but completely precious hours.

I completely fell apart. I buried my face into the blanket I kept and just sobbed and sobbed and sobbed. The on call doctor came in to check on me and discharge me and found me this way. I quickly regained my composure to receive her instructions, but she was very concerned for my emotional state. After she left I decided I'd better get dressed so we could leave when daddy got back from walking you down to meet the man from the funeral home.

I got my clothes out - maternity jeans, the sweater I'd brought, my socks and my shoes. And I took off the scrub shirt I'd been wearing since we arrived at the hospital. The one that was stained with our blood and your amniotic fluid. I carefully folded it and put it in my bag with the blanket - as soon as I got home I would place both together in a gallon size ziplock bag to preserve them. I packed up our few things and sat on the bed waiting for daddy to come back. The nurse came in and gave me some final discharge instructions, and asked me if I had any suggestions for how I could make this easier for other mothers in the future. I had one, and so I gave it to her.

I suggested that they have a seperate L&D room for parents who come in knowing they are delivering a dead baby. One that is set up for distraction rather than focus. One that is more comfortable, and perhaps doesn't have a warmer in it.

And then we gathered our things and we walked back out of the hospital We came in with our son in my belly and walked out with out him. It was the saddest and most surreal thing I've ever done in my life. I thought leaving my baby in the NICU was hard years ago when your oldest sister was born. Turns out, that was easy.

How I wish none of this had ever happened!

Loving You,
~ Mama