Random and Odd

Going Back…

This isn’t something I ever write about. It’s not really anything I talk about, because it still feels somewhat ‘tragic’ to me.

Today is the due date I had for what would have been my second child.

Kara was very young and this ‘new baby’ wasn’t expected.  When I suspected that I was pregnant again, I freaked out.  Like it was just 5 minutes ago, I remember driving to Shingletown to visit my parents.  On my way up there I said, “Please God, if I’m pregnant again…take it from me, because I can’t do it myself.”  I prayed and stressed out about it for the 3 hour drive.

I had a test taken and low and behold, I was pregnant.  We told our parents that ‘yes, we are doing it again.’ It took some mental adjusting to the fact that I was going to be pregnant again and go through labor again…and be a mother again.
Through this process, I began to get excited.  I knew it was a girl. GUT FEELING it was a girl.  Kara was going to have a little sister she could torment.
Dan and I threw around some names, but nothing really stuck.  He liked “Becky” and I liked “Amanda”.

Around 20 weeks into the pregnancy, we went up to visit my parents again.  I was hardly even showing because I was still holding on to the weight that Kara had caused.  My mom joked about me vacuuming the floor for her. I grabbed the vacuum cleaner and began cleaning under everything I could find.  Somewhere in the middle I felt sort of sick and sat down.
When I went to the bathroom, I had some light bleeding.

When we returned back to Sacramento, I got an early appointment with my OBGYN.  Dan didn’t go, because Mister. Ever Optimistic said I was fine.

My wonderful doctor did an exam and sent me to the ultrasound room to ‘double check’.  The woman who ran the equipment was also my Lamaze coach.   We chatted away as she roamed around my belly.  Then she stopped.  She did the measurements. She rubbed some more.  She then looked at me and told me that my baby had no heartbeat and it looks like she had stopped growing at 16 weeks.
I informed her that I was 20 weeks.
She gently told me that I needed to get into an emergency DNC (which to this day, I have no idea what it really means or involves) and that they would get me in tomorrow morning.

I called Dan from the small office.  Sobbing.  I was so angry that he wasn’t there, and so sad at the same time. After hanging up the phone a very tall woman with short blond hair sat down and was explaining to me why I needed to get in tomorrow morning and how I was to drink nothing after midnight…and so many other facts. All I could focus on was the angel she had pinned to her name tag.

Driving home, getting home and the rest of the night is a blank to me. The most horrifying thought was racing through my head.  “I have a dead baby inside of me. MY dead baby.”

The next morning they asked me to put on this gown that resembled the gown I wore when I had Kara. They put in an IV and I sat on very uncomfortable chairs while waiting for ‘my turn’.  Kara and Dan were there. She was crawling all over him and interested in the thing in my arm.

When it was my time to go in the nurse led me down this hallway to the double doors. She had forgotten something at the main desk and just told me to go meet my doctor in the room.
As the doors were automatically opened, what I saw, I wasn’t ready for.  The room was enormous. It was completely white and sterile, unlike the delivery room I had.  There were 3 people across the room and they all surgical gear on.  I walked across the room barefoot, feeling the ice cold tiles.  I started to feel a little shaky and then my wonderful doctor who I had spent so much time with having Kara, was standing there with a mask, cap and full surgical garb. He looked up at me and his sweet eyes met mine.  I believe that was the moment that my body slid to the floor and I began to sob.
This wasn’t right.
He was going to be bringing my new baby into this world like he just had done with Kara, not taking it away.

He quickly walked over to me and carried me to the table and the last thing I remember hearing was him saying, “Hurry”.

I blamed myself for a very long time. I had willed this child to die. My mother blamed herself saying that If she didn’t make me vacuum, I wouldn’t have lost the baby. I had to reassure her that the baby died long before that.
So many people said, “Everything happens for a reason.”, but it wasn’t what I wanted, nor needed to hear.

My friend Ruka spent as much time with me as she could and the days she couldn’t be there, she would send her mother over to the apartment to take care of Kara.

I don’t normally recognize this date.  It’s just another day on the calendar, but I was cleaning out some old boxes a few months ago and ran across the poem that my friend, Ruka had written me after the loss along with a dried petal from the roses that Dan bought me after the surgery.
The month and day stuck. November is my mom’s birthday month. I was 20 weeks pregnant when I found out I wasn’t 20 weeks pregnant. November 20th.

After Alyx was born, the hospital closed down and everything was in transit to the new hospital they had just completed. The nurse left my chart on the table next to me because they hadn’t installed the file folders that hang on the outside of the door yet.  Being nosey, I peeked through all my charts and the miscarriage information was in there.

It was a little girl.

She needed a name. So I call her Amanda.