so I got this today
Whaaa? pregnancy & Infant loss awareness day?
um, no. I had absolutely no idea.
“Is this for real?” was my reply
Only God y’all, only God could orchestrate this week to be the week to move forward in posting this particular part of our journey..
Months I’ve wrestled with God….now? wait? write other chapters? why do you want me to start with a sad one when I prefer to laugh? Come on God, not this one.
Today we’re at part three ….the chapter of life that sent me into a tail spin
(PS- if you’re just joining us you can catch up by reading here
I could hear my friend’s voice and I knew she was there. I was so very thankful that she was there.
She whispered calm words of encouragement as she built a plush barricade of pillows around my womb.
I heard the beeps of the monitors and felt the compressions of the blood pressure cuff, but I just couldn’t look.
Somehow it helped not seeing all that was going on around me like if I didn’t open my eyes that it wouldn’t really be happening. You know, the “out of sight out of mind” kind of thing.
I felt my friend beside me and heard the exchange between the paramedic and her, but still I just couldn’t make myself open my eyes.
J rode with the rest of my people to the hospital and that was best.
It was a lot to process and I knew he needed some time.
The forty-five minute ride was brief, yet it felt like it lasted forever. I felt every bump in the road, every swerve, every turn.
But mostly, I remember praying.
Hoping for the best, expecting any thing.
When we finally arrived and I heard the ambulance doors unlock, I opened my eyes.
The receiving nurses were gracious and hopeful, “We’re going to take good care of you and your little one, honey. Don’t you worry about a thing,” as they whisked me to a tiny little room with no windows.
My family and closest friends were already there.
The hallways were full of people, full of love. It was all very humbling, very surreal.
My doctor’s friend came in shortly after we had arrived to introduce him self and assure us that we were in the best possible place.
He brought us up to speed on the possible risk for infection and insisted that we consent to an amniocentesis. That’s a big word for a big needle that he was going to insert into my womb to test for infection. Be near me Lord Jesus.
In no time the doctor and his team had returned with the news that infection was indeed present and that we needed to induce labor immediately.
He went on to say that should we delay, the infection could progress and could do damage that would prohibit us from ever having children.
“Induce? Are you sure? We’ve been trying to get labor stopped and now you want to induce??”
I was trying to absorb his words and the neonatal team’s encouragement.
I saw his lips moving and could see the sympathy oozing from their eyes and I remember thinking, this is just too much.
While the little fighter inside of me kept kicking and fighting the fight of its life.
As the doctors spoke my aunt and my momma were on each side of me massaging my raging womb.
The baby was stressed. We all were stressed.
The nurses did their best to comfort us as the anesthesiologist proceeded with my epidural.
“Here we go again,” is all I could rally as J, Momma, and I entered the stainless steel delivery room.
J’s Aunt D’s words rang in my head, “Hope for the best, expect anything.”
With every one in place the doctor implored, “Are we ready?”
Breathe Karmen, just keep breathing.
Everyone else was able to muster a grin with the doctor’s words,
“Babies at 24 weeks can survive and do well. “
Our little angel, Karson Elizabeth did not.
She passed during delivery.