Today my wife and I are going to the hospital to have some tests done on her and to talk to a genetic counsellor. Fun stuff, huh?
Here's why.... In December we lost our baby, Lincoln. He was 35 weeks along, and everything was pretty much textbook. On December 16th, MJ (my wife) was worried because she hadn't felt him kick all day, and he had been fairly active. After calling the Doctor, we were told to go to the hospital, just to make sure everything was ok. Fear gripped my stomach with an icy hand as my wife and I went in, praying all the way.
Upon getting put in a labor and delivery room, a nurse came in and attempted to find Lincoln's heartbeat. She could not locate it, and in the past his heartbeat was loud and clear. There was something definitely wrong.
They sent for an ultrasound machine. The machine was so cloudy and murky, they could not get a good view so they sent for another. This one also was not acceptable, so they called down to radiology to get a better machine sent up.
Every second that clicked by was like an eternity. We sat there waiting in dread waiting for a result that we did not want to hear, but knew was going to come.
The machine they brought up confirmed our worst fears. His heart had indeed stopped. He was dead.
My wife was saying such things as, "Oh my God. This can't be real. Wake up Mary Jane, wake up!"
Words were rapidly leaving her lips in between raging outbursts of tears.
Numbness was the first reaction I had. My emotional mind disconnected a bit and my logical problem solving mode kicked in. I had to make sure that my wife was ok, and I needed to get the details for what was going to happen. I would have time to react emotionally plenty later, although I would say that the night of the 16th was the worst few hours of my entire life.
Instructing us to come back at 7:00am the next morning, they sent us home with some sleeping pills for my wife.
Calling relatives with this kind of news sucks. Although we are blessed with wonderful families and great friends, yet again, this was more awfulness.
The next morning we dutifully went in to be induced.
Lincoln was born at 5:50pm. He weight 6 lb 9 oz, and was a beautiful baby. Holding him in my arms at that moment was when the pain broke through in a torrent of tears and great sobs which wracked my body. It all poured out of me as I thought that he was never even able to draw a single breath, that he was never able to seen to sun or a blue sky, that he was never able to play, even once.
Upon examination of Lincoln, the doctors said that there were no outward signs of why he might have died. We consented earlier for genetic testing and a autopsy, which they processed afterwards.
At the end of January we got the results.... There was no conclusive evidence as to cause of death.
This leaves us with trip to the hospital today to see if they can find any issues that my wife may have with clotting or diabetes (she tested fine during the pregnancy, but they may want to do a more in depth test). Then we will be going to genetic counselling (even though there was no chromosome problems).
I just got a call from MJ. Before the testing begins, we will be getting Lincoln's ashes from the hospital (we let the hospital cremate him, and we will have a memorial service later).
What a wonderful day we have to look forward to.
On the bright side, at MJ's last OB/Gyn appointment her doctor said he was pencilling her in for a February delivery.... So, at least at this point, it doesn't look like there is a problem with trying again!
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