Monday, August 27, 2007

Gregory

I haven't posted what happened with Gregory on here. I came across his birth story, which I wrote the night I came home from the hospital, two days after he was born. It was the middle of the night Monday into Tuesday, and I remember not being able to sleep and feeling compelled to write it all down while it was fresh in my mind. I also remember about halfway through it, my milk came in and I went from having fevered engorged breasts to leaking all over my brand new pajamas. I just sat and sobbed and wrote it all down so I would never forget.

Friday night I noticed that I had not felt my baby move in a few hours and I was experiencing some signs of early labor, including irregular contractions that were getting stronger. I couldn’t tell if the baby was moving because the contraction, it felt very weird. I had noticed a decrease in activity and was told it was normal since I was so far along and the baby had less room to move. My Doppler was not picking up the baby’s heartbeat, even though it did two nights before that. I wrote it off to it needing a new battery since it was barely picking my heartbeat up.

Saturday morning, after replacing the battery, I still could not find the heartbeat. I started to worry and called my OB. He had me head to labor and delivery for monitoring. The nurse who met me there seemed optimistic. She had trouble finding the baby’s heartbeat, and called in one of the other doctors to do an ultrasound. My husband was becoming alarmed, but I already knew. I still prayed so hard. I remember him holding my hand, near tears, and I just kept silently saying the Hail Mary, and begging God to take me instead. The doctor kept looking, and I asked her when my baby died. She said she couldn’t say that, there was still hope, but I’ve had so many ultrasounds with this pregnancy (I was considered high risk because of a previous miscarriage, bleeding early in this pregnancy, a two vessel cord, and a car accident 3 weeks ago) and every time the heartbeat was so easy to find. She kept saying that the baby was in an odd position, and that’s why she couldn’t find his heartbeat, but I knew the baby was head down and had been for weeks. After fifteen minutes, I asked her again, and she turned off the machine, told me she was so sorry, and patted my hand. They told me my doctor was on his way in. I called my mother and told her I was in the hospital, and could she please come, that we think the baby died.

After my doctor arrived, he confirmed that the baby was head down and had passed away. I begged him to not make me deliver vaginally, that mentally, I could not handle it. After he checked me and discovered I was only starting to efface and was only a fingertip dilated, he told me it was my choice and we consented to a c-section. My husband could not bring himself to call his mother, but for me, it was helpful to call her and to say what had happened, it gave me something to do. She was devastated, and I asked her if she would like to come to the hospital and see the baby, but she said she did not think she could not handle that. My mother and sisters arrived, and I don’t know that I’ve ever seen so much sorrow in my mother’s eyes as when I told her that the baby had passed away for sure.

They began prepping me for surgery. I was so scared – they told me that they would not put me under general anesthesia, but that they would give me a spinal and dope me up a bit so I would not remember much. My mother and the perinatology bereavement nurse Donna called the priest who married us, and asked him to come and baptize the baby. My mother and sister Kristin then left to tell my grandmother in person and to purchase a white gown for the baby, while my other sister Caitlin stayed with Marc and I so he would not be alone while I was in surgery. They gave me a shot of some cocktail and I was wheeled into the OR. Donna stayed with me during the surgery so I would have someone there to hold my hand for the parts I was awake (I asked that my husband not be there when they offered that opportunity because I did not want him to carry the memory of the medical discussion or the sterile OR when looking back on the short time we had with our child). I barely remember the spinal, just the quick pinch and then nothing; it was not painful, thanks to the other drugs. I don’t remember too much of the surgery – my face was very itchy, and Donna and the anesthesiologist kept scratching it for me. I happened to wake up and turn to my left at one point, and I saw one nurse handing my baby to another – I saw my doctor’s face over the screen and he told me I had a little boy. He was so pink, that for just a moment, I thought, maybe they made a mistake, it’s going to be ok, but he never cried.

They wheeled me into recovery, and both Marc and my sister were there, which was so wonderful, because they told me only one person could be there for me. Marc said it killed him when they brought me in because I seemed so happy and ok, and he was afraid for me to come crashing back when I realized what was going on. My doctor came in, and told my husband that the baby was perfect – it was a freak accident. The cord was very thin, and had become wrapped around his neck tightly three times. I am grateful for two things: my husband was concerned that this happened as a result of the car accident and this relieves him of a lifetime of guilt I know he would carry, and because we have an answer, which is something they said we probably would not ever have. My mother in law called a few minutes later, and asked to speak to me. I was very groggy still, but I remember her saying “I have the receipt for the travel system (that she had bought us for my shower less than a week before) and I will give it to you so that you can return it for the money”. My heart broke and I just handed the phone back to Marc. I felt so badly later for being sad about it – I realize she is grieving too and didn’t know what to say and was trying to be helpful. Marc told me later he told his mother never to say anything like that to me again, and she apologized, but pressed the issue with him, and he told her that we would not be returning anything for cash. My blood pressure went through the roof and the nurse started getting alarmed, but she understood when she heard what happened.

Thank God Cate stayed with us – Marc was able to go and pick up his family and bring them to the hospital, and my sister and I waited for my family. My brother looked like hell, and stayed in the room for only a moment, and my grandmother, mother, sisters and I just sat and talked. They wheeled me into a labor and delivery room down the hall, and took the gown my sister picked out and dressed the baby.

After my in laws arrived, they brought the baby to Marc and I first. He was so perfect. We named our son Gregory Ian. He weighed 4 lbs, 15 oz, and was 18 inches long, completely perfectly formed. He looked so much like Marc. I was scared to hold him initially, but they put him in my arms and I cannot begin to describe the competing and intense feelings of joy and sorrow that filled my heart. Seeing my husband hold him was a moment I’ve waited for for so long – and it was heartbreaking in a way I could never have imagined. We asked for our family to come back in and they all got the opportunity to see and to hold him. My mother and grandmother held him, and then my father in law, but everyone else seemed a bit afraid. I just kept being reassuring, and reminded them that they would never regret holding him, but that they might regret having missed the chance. My sisters each held him, and then I encouraged my mother in law to at least come and look at him more closely. It helped her so much to see him and convinced her to hold him. Neither of our brothers wanted to hold him – my brother in law is only 13, and it was not something he could process, he could not even look at Gregory, I think he was scared, and that is so understandable. My brother, who is an adult, was so overwhelmed and angry he could not bring himself to, but he did touch him and look closely. I have not seen my brother cry since we were younger; it devastated me to see the pain in his red-rimmed eyes. Watching my husband and father in law passing the baby to each other was rough too – Marc told me later that he can’t remember seeing his father cry like that before and that it killed him. Monsignor Farley blessed Gregory, and we all prayed and cried and took pictures. We asked for a few more minutes alone with the baby, but the nurse was still concerned about my blood pressure, so she asked our families to leave for the day.


Marc and I sat with Gregory for a little while longer. I was frustrated because a new nurse came in every few minutes and kept saying to tell her when we wanted her to take him to the morgue. I was so numb at that moment, but in hindsight I was so angry she even said the word morgue. I told Marc that this was probably his last chance to hold him, and that he should take a few more minutes to say goodbye. He started sobbing and said, “I don’t want a few more minutes, I want years.” I don’t think my heart has ever been so completely broken. I held Gregory for a few more moments, and sang to him the same songs I’ve been singing to him for months, and I rocked him and cuddled him and kissed him. We said goodbye and the nurse took him away.

5 comments:

niobe said...

My heart broke a little as I read this.

Mrs. Collins said...

So much pain in this story, yet I understand the competing joy and sorrow you felt when holding him. I'm so sorry this had to happen to you or anyone. From your writing I can tell that Gregory was and is very loved.

Rachel said...

I am so sorry. My eyes are filled with tears. Despite losing Gregory, the moments you and your families had with him sound beautiful. Your son was so lucky to have such a caring and loving family.

Kim said...

I am so, so very sorry. It sounds like you were able to have a (bitter)sweet, memorable time with him, even if it could never have been long enough.

Lori said...

I have heard a lot of stories of loss in the past four years, and every one breaks my heart all over again.

I am so sorry for the loss of your son, your Gregory.

The first part of this post reminded me so much of myself. I did the same thing after my twins died, about two days after I was home from the hospital. I wrote it all down, and I am so glad I did. When I go back and read it now, I am always surprised about the pieces I had forgotten.