We got to the hospital around 11:30pm on May 18th, 2013. I checked in to the ER and waddled my way to the elevator and through the doors of labor and delivery. My contractions were 5 minutes apart and getting more and more intense with each one. I walked in the room to 2 nurses getting the room ready – one at the computer and the other lowering the bed. They gave me a gown and a cup, told me to go in the restroom, change, and leave a urine sample. I can’t remember their names, but I remember their faces. When I was done I waddled to the bed, got in, pulled the covers over me and laid down. They immediately began hooking me up to the monitors. When it came time to find the baby’s heartbeat nothing was heard. She kept searching and searching, but nothing. She asked me where the heartbeat was usually found. I pointed right to the spot. Nothing. She asked the other nurse to come in and try to find it. Again, nothing. They told me they would have to find the ultrasound machine to try to locate it that way. One nurse looked for the machine and the other started my IV. I remember being one of “those” patients and complaining about her insertion technique. I was told they called the doctor on call and the ultrasound tech on call. They couldn’t find the machine for what seemed like an eternity. I remember looking at my mom at some point across the room, and mouthing the word “pray”. She nodded her head and looked down. Finally, the nurse walked in with the ultrasound machine. As she was getting everything ready, she told me that she didn’t this every day so don’t be alarmed if she can’t find anything. She placed the wand on my stomach and began looking around. She saw something, removed the wand, and placed the monitor over where she was just holding the wand. Silence. She closed the machine. I looked her in the eyes and said “you saw it didn’t you?” She replied by saying “I think I see a little flutter but I’m not sure” and walked out of the room. I was still waiting on the ultrasound tech and the doctor on call. I was convinced that the nurses were idiots and didn’t know what they were doing, and that when the ultrasound tech arrived he would easily locate our baby’s heartbeat and everything would be fine. I felt like everyone was moving too slowly and nobody was comforting me or telling me that everything was ok. I had no idea that nothing was ok. I called my original doctor, because I knew he was on call in Brenham that weekend. I told him that I was in labor and at the hospital, but that they hadn’t been able to find a heartbeat yet and everyone was moving too slowly and not doing anything. I was so mad, and obviously oblivious to the fact that there was nothing TO do. Except wait. Finally around 12:40am or so the ultrasound tech came in. I was relieved – this was the same tech that did my 20 week ultrasound and Brady and I liked him. He put in my information, exposed my belly, and waited for the machine to “warm up”. He then placed the wand on my stomach. I could see our baby’s head. I remember thinking “why is he looking at the head when we’re trying to find the heart?” About that time, Dr. G walked in the room. My eyes were fixated on him from the minute he opened the door. I tried to read his every move, his every expression. I followed him with my eyes as he walked swiftly across the room to the right side of my bed in his light blue scrubs and cowboy boots, his eyes staring at the ultrasound machine the whole time. He took a brief moment out of his fixation on the screen to look me in the eyes and give me a slight nod - just long enough to acknowledge me. It felt like I wasn’t breathing. Like I was holding my breath until I knew that everything was ok. Dr. G was standing by the tech, slightly behind him, as they were analyzing the screen. I heard them whispering. Then I heard the tech say “32 and 5”. I remember thinking “well that’s way off”. I knew I was 37 and 2. (Technically 37 and 3 since it was past midnight) Then I heard him whisper those two little life altering words: “no activity”. Without hesitating I said “there’s NOTHING?” Dr. G looked at me, shook his head, and said “no sweetheart, I’m sorry”. Shock immediately set in. My first question was what could have happened? He explained to me that it could have been a number of things, but we would know more once the baby was born, or we could choose to have an autopsy done. I was in complete and utter shock - the kind of shock that tears aren’t even able to form. I couldn’t cry. I wanted to, but nothing was coming out. I remember telling him “I know I should be crying but I’m in complete shock right now”. He sat by my bedside and talked to us. He told me that if I was getting prenatal care that I was doing everything I could have done for my baby. I told him how much that statement pissed me off. I told him that I know there are women every day who never get prenatal care, but they get to have perfectly healthy babies. He said “believe me, I know” and asked me more questions. He asked when my last appointment was. He asked how things looked then. He asked when the last time that I felt movement was. I told him the movements had slowed down at the end, but that I reported that to my doctor at my last appointment, 3 days ago, but everything looked fine on the ultrasound then. I told him I even asked about the cord being around its neck at that appointment. I told him that I “thought I felt movements today”. I asked him if he was going to make me labor all night. He said “not if you don’t want to”. He then explained to me that sometimes when the baby dies in utero, the body doesn’t know what to do and the natural process could sometimes take days. I told him I wanted a c-section. I wanted to be knocked out, and I wanted it that minute. I wanted it to be over. I didn’t want to know what was happening. I soon realized that this was not an “emergency” so I would have to wait until 8:30am for the c-section to be done. Eventually I asked him, “what am I supposed to do with the baby?... Do I have a…” I paused and could hardly get the word out before I began to sob. Then I sobbed the word... “funeral?” I buried my face in my hands as tears began to pour out of my eyes. He closed his eyes, nodded his head, then opened them to look me in the eyes, and softly said “yeah”. I think that's when he looked at the nurse and said “why don’t we get her some Xanax”. Before he left the room he walked over to the left side of the bed to look at my vitals. Brady was sitting on my bed with me, holding me. I asked Brady “do you want to know?” He said “it doesn’t matter”. I turned to Dr. G and asked “was it a boy or a girl?” He looked at us, almost confused, and said “you didn’t know?” I shook my head and looked down. Brady answered “no”. He told us that he didn’t even look, and then left the room. We were all sitting there in silence. All of a sudden I asked for my phone and said “I have to call Lauren”. Brady grabbed the hand that was holding my phone and said “Jamie we can call her tomorrow”. I remember looking at the clock, seeing it was 1 something, and in a dazed state saying “you’re right” as I nodded my head and stared off into space. My mom then walked out of the room. (I thought it was to give us time to ourselves, but later found out it was ask Dr. G more questions… one of them being if I was going to be ok) While that was happening, Brady called his mom. She knew that I was in labor and that we were going to the hospital, so she was expecting our call. He began walking out of the room when she answered the phone. I could hear his crying, cracking voice say the words “there’s no heartbeat”. From across the room I heard his mom on the other end of the phone scream “WHAT?” I began crying even harder, pleading with Brady to stay in the room with me. I wanted to hear this conversation. I think part of me didn’t want anyone else to hear it. He walked back towards my bed and repeated the words “there’s no heartbeat”. That’s all I remember of that conversation.
The nurse then brought in medication for the physical pain and consents for a c-section. I signed the papers and got medicated. I remember when the medicine took effect I was looking at the clock and TV on the wall when all of a sudden there was two of each. I remember saying “I think the medicine kicked in”. The next thing I know, there was an anesthesiologist in my room. I don’t remember asking for an epidural, but there he was, ready to give me one. I remember hugging the pillow and the nurse’s hands on my shoulders. I remember jumping before the needle ever touched me, and apologizing. I told him I knew he didn’t do anything, but I knew what was coming. I remember telling him he did a good job. I didn’t have a filter at this point, and said anything that came to mind – good, bad, mean, nice, or inappropriate – anything.
Not long after the epidural took effect, a second nurse came in and told me that Dr. G wanted her to check me to see how progressed I was – something they hadn’t yet done. She looked at me and said “sweetie you’re already at an 8 and 100% effaced”. I was shocked, again. I don’t remember exactly, but it seems like I shrugged my shoulders and nonchalantly said something like “then I’ll just do it vaginally”. She nodded her head as she explained that it would be better to allow my body to do what it was already naturally doing. They brought new consents to be signed.
The next several hours are very hazy to me. I remember fighting the meds and my exhaustion so hard to try to stay awake. I remember asking the nurses, more than once, to please give Brady some medicine because I didn’t think it was fair that I got some and he didn’t. I remember family members arriving in the middle of the night. I remember my mom plucking my eyebrows and painting my fingernails. I remember writing several “rough drafts” of the text that would be sent out to our friends and family to let them know that our baby had passed away. I knew I wouldn’t have the words once it was done, but I knew I wanted to be the one to tell them. I remember feeling when my water broke. I remember seeing the green towels after she cleaned me. I remember rolling on to my right side to try to get more comfortable and feeling lots of pressure. I remember saying “I think it’s almost time”. I remember looking at the clock. I remember it was around 7 am. The nurses came back to check me. It was shift change, so one of the nurses was a new one. She turned out to be my favorite. I remember she wanted to do a practice push with me, but the night nurse stopped her and said “the baby is RIGHT there”. They went to call Dr. G. Not long after that, they broke down the bed, pulled out the trays, and put my legs in the stirrups. Dr. G walked in and sat down. The night shift nurse didn’t stay in the room. The new nurse asked me if I wanted more medicine before I started pushing. I told her no. I told her I wanted to remember this. I told her to clean up the baby and wrap it up before she put it on me. She asked me if I could feel my contractions. I said yes, but really I didn’t feel anything physical at this point. She told me to push with the next contraction I felt. I nodded and said ok. I knew what was about to happen. In the back of my mind, I was still hoping that everyone was wrong. That somehow I was going to hear the beautiful sound of a baby crying when this was over. But I also knew that my worst fear was about to come true. I knew I wasn’t ready for this. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes, threw my head back and pushed. I looked at Brady for a split second, but quickly turned away. I couldn't bear to see the pure agony and heartbreak written all over
his face as this was happening. I looked to the left and saw the nurse. Crying. She told me to let it out. I felt my baby being removed from my body. I screamed at the top of my lungs and wailed in a way I never had before - in a way that I literally felt like I was outside of my own body. I remember thinking "I hope they can't hear me", but not being able to stop myself or make myself scream or cry any quieter. In one final moment -at 7:42 am - all of my hopes were officially shattered. There was no cry. There was no movement. 13 ½ hours of labor and only one push later, my baby was here and gone all at the same time. I saw her to the left of me being cleaned by the nurse. My vision was so blurred from the tears, but I saw lots of dark hair. As I was bawling, I asked the doctor “what was it?” He looked at me and said “it was a little girl”. I threw my head back and said “I knew it”. I lifted it back up, looked at him, and with the slightest grin he tilted his head, looked me in the eyes, and said, “And she’s pretty, too”.
We held her. Kissed her. Loved her. Blessed her. We soaked in all of her perfect little features... Her pug nose, little lips, chubby cheeks, head full of dark brown hair, and long little monkey toes. She looked just like her daddy... and she looked just like a Sloan. I could have held her forever... But it wasn't long before we had to tell her goodbye. Something no parents should ever have to do. How do you say goodbye to the newborn baby in your arms who is suppose to be going home with you, but is going to the morgue instead? I remember holding her and kissing her for the last time, and with tears in my eyes saying "oh Brady I just love, love, love her". I remember watching my husband lay her in her bassinet and roll her out of the room. I remember the sickening feeling of knowing where she was going and that I would never be able to hold her again. I remember so many things about that day that I hope I never forget...
There are so many little details that are so intensely personal, and there are even some that will forever remain a secret between Brady, Sloan, and I. What isn’t a secret is that without ever breathing a breath of our air, she changed us and blessed us in so many ways.
Not a day goes by that we don’t wish that she were here with us or wonder what she would be like today... what we would all be like today. I know we will see her beautifully perfect face again one day, but that doesn't mean I will ever not want her here in my arms... Happy 1st Birthday Sloan Olivia… Mommy and Daddy love you and miss you so very much<3
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