Wednesday, August 11, 2010


It goes by so fast. Especially when you're counting the days since you last saw your baby. On 8/8/10, it was exactly 1 year and 6 months since I said "hello" to Emily and just an hour later, I had to say "goodbye". I miss her so much. I always wonder what she would have been like at this age. I imagine that she would have been all over the place by now; walking, getting into EVERYTHING. It kills me that I can't see her reach her milestones. My heart aches. It aches for my babygirl.

Ethan has been sick for a while now. He is constantly congested and his cough keeps coming back. I'm just glad that we haven't had a visit to the ER lately. Although we might have to schedule a visit to urgent care tomorrow since he's had a fever the past 2 days. *Sigh* It's neverending.

This is totally off tangent, but I needed to say it (or type it) somewhere. Ever since we lost our little Emily, I am soooo very sensitive to death. Everytime I watch a movie that involves death, I get this burn in my throat and my eyes gets watery. It burns even more when I try to hold it back and not have a meltdown next to the person I'm watching the movie with. I hope this gets easier. Right now, I feel like it never will. I cried enough tears in the last year and half that would last a lifetime. I just want to hold her and smell her again. Everytime I look back on the day that we said our final goodbyes and we had to bury our daughter, the smell of the funeral home haunts me. I can't get rid of that smell. Big BLAH!

Thanks for reading my vent. ♥

Friday, July 23, 2010


Someone I know recently sent me this message on Facebook:

"There's this song that comes on the country stations called "If I Die Young" and I always think of you and your little girl every time I hear it. I wish you many rainbows. Hope you and Erwin are well and I pray Ethan's days are bright and fruitful."

I'm not an avid listener of country music, but I know a good song when I hear one.

This song really touched me and it brought tears to my eyes. And what made it that much better was that this person that I don't talk to took the time to message me to let me know she was thinking of me and our little angel. Thanks, B.

So I wanted to share this song with all of you in the babylost world. I hope this song touches you and makes you smile. I'm wishing for rainbows for all of us.

Here's the song & video so you don't have to search it yourself.

"If I Die Young" by The Band Perry

"Lord, make me a rainbow, I’ll shine down on my mother
She'll know I’m safe with you when she stands under my colors, oh and
Life ain't always what you think it ought to be, no
ain't even grey, but she buries her baby"

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

Her story, part 2

After being induced, we just had to wait. I had to lay there with my baby inside of me. My baby who no longer had a heartbeat.. who we would not hear cry after I gave that one final push. My baby who I just felt kicking that morning. It was very surreal to me. I would still put my hand on my stomach hoping maybe she was just giving us the biggest scare of our lives. Just hoping. My mom was urging me to have a c-section because she was so scared that something would happen to me if I kept a non-living baby inside of me. My dad felt the same way. But in order to give birth vaginally for future pregnancies, I had to deliver Emily the natural way.

My friends and family were there the whole time. My room was filled with at least 10 people. I was very lucky to be in such an understanding hospital and have kind, warm-hearted nurses that never said anything insensitive to me or my family. Normally, nurses and doctors will only allow 2 - 3 other people in the delivery room just in case something happens to the baby and they have to do an emergency procedure or something. But that wasn't the case. So there we were. Just waiting. Normally, you would be making phone calls, sending the text out that says,"It's the day! Baby Emily is on her way!" How do we add on "But she no longer has a heartbeat" So the only phone calls that were made were to my family and a few of my closest friends. Then the word just spread.

Throughout that night, I was able to sleep pretty well. I woke up really early that morning because I finally started feeling contractions. After about 11 hours after being induced, I was only 1cm dilated. The contractions weren't unbearable, but with the situation that I was in.. I didn't want to add any physical pain to the emotional pain that I was already in. So I decided to get the epidural.

When anesthesia came up, the nurses were switching shifts. From 7am - 3pm, my nurse was Katie. I will never forget her. She created a rainbow in the midst of a storm. She somehow made our situation so much easier to get through. I wanted her to be my nurse during my whole stay. All I kept thinking was "I wish all my nurses were like Katie."

Because I had a cesarean with my son, my doctor didn't want to force my uterus to do anything that would cause it to rupture and put me at risk. So, things were progressing very slowly.

Twenty-hours after being induced, I was only about 3 - 4 cms dilated. The doctor's prescribed another medication that would speed up a the process just a little bit. At 10pm (26 hours into labor), I was still 3 - 4 cms dilated. My doctor talked about going into having another c-section since I wasn't progressing very well. She later decided that since I was still young and I would still be able to have more babies in the future, she decided that we would wait.

At about 12AM, I started feeling a lot of pressure. "So this is what labor feels like huh?" I thought. The nurse checked to see if I had made any more progress. 8cms dilated. No wonder why it hurt so bad. By then, the epidural had worn off. My doctor ordered some more medication to help with the pain. Just a short hour labor, I was pushing.

Here it goes. This is what we've been waiting for right? I didn't know what to feel or what to think. I just did as I was told and I pushed. Normally, I'm a tough cookie. But as I was pushing... I wanted to give up. I think all that waiting and anxiety just got the best of me. At that point, the epidural was completely absent. I felt everything.

Forty minutes later; at 1:40AM on February 8th, 2009, baby Emily was born sleeping. When I gave that one final push, all I could see from the position I was laying in was my doctor uncoiling the umbilical cord. 1....2....3....4.... The cord was wrapped around her neck 4 times. Everyone in the room was crying. Even my nurse was crying. My brother, who I have never seen cry in my whole life, was crying. My nurse wrapped little Emily up and then put her into my arms. Her tiny, little lifeless body. No physical pain amounts to the pain that I felt in that moment when I was holding my babygirl. My babygirl that I lost before I even had her. I stared at her tiny little face, her pale skin and ruby red lips. I stroked her baby soft skin. She had that newborn smell. Her tiny little feet and long limbs (that she gets from her dad).. She was so perfect.

My doctor stepped out for a few moments to let us have our moment with our angel baby. Everyone in the room got to hold her for the first and last time. There were so many emotions and so many tears being shed at once. We were all waiting for her arrival, but we never imagined that it would be like this. I cannot begin to describe how low I felt at that moment.

To be continued...

Saturday, July 10, 2010


I'm not sure what has been going on with me or why I've been feeling what I'm feeling. I've stayed away from blogging for a while now just because I had no idea how to explain the state-of-mind that I was in.

The family and I went to go visit our little princess today. Now I know why I've stayed away for so long. My heart sinks every time we go visit her. It aches. I thought it would get easier, that I would get use to the feeling. I thought wrong. It has been getting harder and harder. The more days we have without her, the more it hurts. There's a void in my heart and I don't know when it will ever get filled.

I've been working a few days out of the week lately and I'll be going back to school in the fall. If things go as planned, I'll have my LVN certificate in 3 years. As I'm looking ahead to the future, finishing school, finally starting my career, I still feel like something is missing. Long story short, I would like to have another baby. Call me crazy.. I just gave birth to our daughter almost a year and a half ago. It's been emotionally tough without her. But I feel so empty. My arms are empty. Although having another baby won't bring back our Emily, it's what I've been wanting more than anything. Going to see Emily Anne today only made that longing for another baby stronger.

This can totally backfire on me. What if I have another baby and the feeling is just as strong, if not stronger? But it's what I've been really thinking about and it's what I really want. My other half doesn't totally agree with me. He wants me to finish school first and then we'll think about having another baby. He doesn't understand. No one understands.

I wish everyone would understand or be able to explain to me why you get these feelings after losing your baby before you even had them. I wish all babies would be born healthy so that we wouldn't even have to have these feelings. It's not fair.

Monday, February 8, 2010

Her story, part 1

Okay, so here I am. It's after midnight and I'm sitting here blogging on our roommates mini laptop/netbook. It's Monday, February 8, 2010. It's officially Emily Anne's 1st birthday. At 1:40AM, it will be exactly 365 days since we got to meet our babygirl. This is what happened that day and the days that led up to it.

For those of you that I have not met, I also have a son that will be 3 in April named Ethan Jordan. My pregnancy with him was very normal and then I suddenly had a placental abruption at 35 weeks & 4 days gestation. The doctors said that he probably had a lack of oxygen for at least 12 hours, which caused him severe brain damage. The doctors said that in cases like Ethan's the baby usually doesn't survive. He spent 5 weeks in the NICU. This was, at the time, the most difficult thing that we had to go through.

During my pregnancy with Emily, I was always very paranoid and constantly thinking about the worst that could happen. I wasn't prepared to have another baby spend weeks in the NICU or to have doctors "urge" us to pull the plug on our baby. I especially wasn't emotionally prepared. I was very careful and I was always making sure that Emily was still moving.

It was a Tuesday night. I was 35 weeks & 3 days pregnant. Going on 35 + 4. I then became really paranoid. Emily's movements were decreasing. I sat there debating if I should go to Labor & Delivery and then I felt her move. Friday comes around and it's the day of my 36 week check-up. I get up, get ready, have lunch, take Ethan to his physical therapy appointment.. then it's time for my appointment. Going into this appointment, I was very optimistic. To me.. getting past 35 weeks & 4 days was very good. It was the point where I told myself that I didn't need to worry anymore.

My doctor was on vacation at the time so another OB substituted for her til she came back. Dr. S. (for substitute) came in and pulls out her doppler and all we hear is static. She goes to get another doppler thinking that something was wrong with hers. Still... only static. She then leads us to another room so that we can do an ultrasound. I really didn't know what was going on. I started getting anxious. Dr. S. does a quick ultrasound and says,"These ultrasound machines are a little bit older and I can't read them well so let me go get another doctor to do it." At this point, I knew something was wrong. Another doctor comes in, feels around a little bit. This is where my world fell apart. She said to me,"I'm sorry... but this doesn't look good. Your baby doesn't have a heartbeat." I think at that point.. I too no longer had a heartbeat. I didn't know what to say or think. All I said was,"Are you sure?" And she said,"Yes." and showed me all 4 chambers of Emily's little heart and it was not fluttering at all. That little speck that is rapidly beating during ultrasounds was very, very still. There it was.... with our first baby, we were told that he might not survive and with our second... we were told that she died before even being born.

The doctors left us alone for a little bit and I just cried... I called my sister and I just cried. How could this happen? That's all I was thinking. The doctors gave us two options: 1.) Go home and let it sink in and come back to deliver the baby when I was ready or 2.) Go across the street to the hospital right away and get induced immediately. I chose option 2.

We go across the street and Labor & Delivery know our situation. I walk in with tears streaming down my face with bloodshot eyes and some of the nurses stared because they weren't aware of what happened. One nurse immediately gave me a big, long hug and said,"I'm sorry, sweetie. We can't change it, but we can make it better." Bless that nurse's heart. I change into my gown and a few nurses were getting things ready in my room. One of them said,"Awww she's crying!" and then there was silence. I knew the other nurse was silently mouthing what happened. I get settled in, the uncomfortable IV is put in, then the team of doctors come in. We talk about what happened, my medical history.. family history, etc. They couldn't figure out what happened. We talked about getting an autopsy done after the delivery and another test that would require them to take a piece of her skin. I was induced at about 8pm, Friday, February 6, 2009.


RIP Our sweet angel baby, Emily Anne.
Born into God's arms on February 8, 2009 @ 1:40AM
I miss you dearly and I cannot wait to hold you in my arms again. I love you.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Two weeks and five days...

... just two weeks and five days away from Emily Anne's birthday, the day that we met her, the day we got to hold her in our arms, the day that we had to tuck her in and walk away as the nurse said,"I'll take good care of her" as I was wheeled away into my recovery room.. My recovery room that wasn't in the MICC (Mother and Infant Care Center), but it was on the other side of the hospital in the surgical unit.. where patients were recovering from surgery, where I wouldn't be able to hear the sound of newborns crying. That day was tough. And that anniversary is coming up and I don't know how I'm going to handle it.

I've been really wanting to go to visit Emily, but the weather has been horrible over here in California. Our highways are flooded, there are power outages all over the bay area, and there is a tornado warning. I have never heard of a tornado warning in California. It just doesn't happen. But that's what I also thought when I was pregnant with Emily. Losing your baby before they're even born... that just doesn't happen. But it does. I was so naive and I feel like I wasn't paranoid enough. I didn't do my kick counts like I should have. I didn't trust my motherly instinct when I didn't feel her moving as much. I always go through what I could have done to prevent it. What I could have done to protect my baby. I had one job, to bring my baby into this world safe and sound.. and I couldn't even do that. What will happen when I'm pregnant with our 3rd child?

Seeing babies is just as hard as ever. One of my close friends is having a baby. A babygirl. That one got me. I'm also planning her baby shower with a few of my closest friends. It's a little difficult for me, but I think I'm just sucking it up because I know I would want someone to suck it up for me.

I've been really thinking about having another baby, but I know I can't. I'm not physically nor am I emotionally ready for it. There are just those days where I feel like I just really want a baby to care for. A perfectly healthy newborn. I hope that I'm not the only one that feels like this after having lost a beautiful baby at 36 weeks gestation. After being so excited to have the 2nd granddaughter to add to my mom's 6 grandchildren. Emily would have been her 7th grandchild. Lucky #7. Our little angel. Oh how I miss her. Her blanket that she used no longer has the newborn smell to it anymore since I've slept with it and have probably sniffed all of that scent off of it. I wish it had that smell still. So I can have something to hold onto. Something more than just memories.

I realized that I have never posted the details of what happened. I don't know if I can. But I should. I think that if I talk about it and share it, those who read this will understand why I am so messed up sometimes. See from my eyes. Maybe I will post Emily's story in two weeks and five days...