Kaitlyn, My Angel

it will be four years in September, but it seems like just yesterday. I remember every second of the hell I went through I always wanted three kids. Didn't't care if they were girls or boys. Just three kids. My oldest is a girl. My second is a boy. My husband at the time didn't want anymore and I thought we were done. I had given up on my dream. I put myself through college and got an awesome job that I dedicated myself to. I told myself that another child wouldn't fit into my lifestyle. My other to were getting older and more self sufficient. There were no more bottles or diapers. Potty training was done. They could dress themselves and put themselves to bed. 'life was getting easy. My daughter was 9 and my son was 7 when I accidentally got pregnant with my third. I was happy and not all at the same time. But I never imagined it could go wrong. I knew I was going to be a mommy again and didn't give it a second thought. Until the ultrasound. I didn't have the full bladder like I was supposed to. So that's what I blamed it on when the tech "couldn't get a good picture" She kept going over my baby taking picture after picture until she finally left the room without saying a word. She came back in and I asked her if there was something wrong. She had no reply. She took a few more pics and told me I was ok to leave. She never even printed one out for me to take home to my husband. I couldn't't get it out of my head that something was wrong. She next day at work I got a call from my doctor. She told me I was going to have to go to another hospital to have a level 2 ultrasound done. She told me that the skin on my baby's neck was too thick. It was probably nothing but it could be downs syndrome. Down syndrome is a genetic disease that doesn't run in either of our families. It had to be a mistake. I prayed for her to be wrong. She had to be. Two days later I drove the hour and a half, by myself to the better hospital for a better look at my baby. Convincing myself the whole way that there must be a mistake. And unfortunately, there was. I laid on another bed in a dark room with the screen pointed away from me. The sound turned down so I couldn't't hear her heartbeat. And then she left the room. I turned the screen to see and saw what to me appeared to be a normal baby. Then she came back with three doctors. They asked in very broken english for me to sit up. Looking at their faces I knew something was wrong. Very calmly and matter of factly one of them spoke. My baby had severe swelling and water collecting around her brain and in her chest cavity. Still believing that this was fixable I asked what they were going do to fix it. She put her head down and told me there was nothing they could do. My baby was not going make it. I didn't understand. At this point I was crying and wiping my tears with my shirt sleeves. The second doctor took my arms and put them at my sides. We're very sorry he said. She was rolling around inside me as they spoke. It didn't make sense. The third doctor grabbed me by the arms and led me to the screen, pointing to the water deposits explaining that it was one of the most severe cases of edema they had ever seen. Her heart was still beating but it would give up the fight. She might have a month or so before she went but she would not make it to term. They apologized and sent me home to wait for the end. Scheduling my regular dr appts just to see if her heart was still beating. Thankfully, I guess, I never had to go to any of those. That friday night at about 2AM I was woken by a really strong kick. Then there was nothing. No more rolling, no more flutters. I new she was gone. After confirmation they scheduled me for delivery. Yes. I had to deliver my dead baby. This was nothing more then two days of torture. They sent me back down to the better hospital where they spent a day dilating my cervix with these things that looked like fertilizer sticks you would put in a plant. And by using them I mean shoving as many as would fit(until I screamed in agonizing pain) into me. TWICE. The second time the intern doctors forgot to give me the anesthetic shot to dull the pain. My husband who is a strong man was taking all his strength to hold me down to the table as they tortured me. They sent us to a hotel room for the night and told us to come back in the morning for delivery. After a sleepless night we went back for delivery. They hooked me up to a morphine drip and started my contractions, assuring me that I would feel no pain. Again they were wrong. I felt every contraction. For six hours. Then they broke my water. More pain. After another hour of begging I finally got an epidural and was able to relax. All the doctors that had been in and out all day long had suddenly disappeared. Me and my husband sat in silence as I tried to nap. )uncomfortable how I was laying I sat up. And in sitting up, I delivered my baby. 15.4 ounces. 8 inches long. 21 weeks and 3 days. We named her Kaitlyn. The nurses dressed her in a beautiful pink dress and matching hat. Took a roll of pictures of her and let us hold her and say goodbye. It was the most horrible painful unforgettable day of my life. September 20, 2006 Kaitlyn died and I died with her.
notinMIanymore notinMIanymore
31-35, F
Jul 24, 2010