meeting an angel

we arrived at the hospital just after 7 pm on wednesday march 24th. sitting in the waiting room, waiting for the nurse to take me to labor and delivery, my legs ached to just run away. i have never been so scared in my entire life. even on the way to labor and delivery, i just wanted to turn around and leave. i realized Carli was gone, but wasn't sure i was ready to meet her. i must have told ray that i wanted to go home at least 100 times. i kept thinking that this wasn't how it was supposed to be, and someone must have been wrong about Carli... i needed to protect her; i needed to leave. but, logically, i knew... i couldn't leave. this had to be done.

the doctor gave me laminaria around 9 pm, to prepare me for the induction the next morning. we met with our first nurse, norlea. she was amazing and extremely comforting. she brought us books, and sat with us for a while to talk. she encouraged us to hold Carli, even though we thought we wouldn't want to. she talked about how Carli would look. she addressed just about every fear we had about meeting Carli, without us even mentioning it. i fell asleep sometime around 11 pm, and norlea's shift was over early in the morning. we didn't get to thank her, but maybe soon we will send a card.


i woke up around 7 am, nervous about the induction. while talking with ray, i suddenly became nauseous. our second nurse, becky, came in to give me phenegran. becky was also an awesome nurse. she tried her best to comfort us, and even shared a few tears. which, in its own way, was still helpful. around 11 am, dr. harris removed the laminaria. i was dilated just 1cm. i got to take a break before the induction to eat, and shower. ray ran home to check the mail, and feed our dogs. thankfully, the dresses we were waiting for had arrived in the mail. this was a huge relief. the dresses were beautiful, and i was so happy Carli would have something to wear.

dr. harris gave me prostaglandin, to begin contractions. my first dose was at 1 pm, and it didn't do much. the second dose was done at 5 pm, and a third at 9pm. after the third dose, the contractions started to get too painful. our third nurse, donna, gave me a bit of morphine. the morphine helped for a while, but by 12 am i was ready for an epidural.

once the epidural was in place, dr harris came to give me another dose of prostaglandin. at about 1:15 am, dr harris decided it was time to meet Carli. i cried, and thought about how unprepared i was. i was scared. dr.harris had me push a few times, and Carli was born. it was 1:57am. she weighed 1 pound 3 ounces, and was 11 3/4 inches long. the silence in the room was deafening. ray and i cried, while donna and dr.harris took Carli behind a curtain to clean her up. neither of us saw Carli.

we held each other, and cried... i thought about how quiet everything was. this was not how i imagined our delivery would be. this isn't how pregnancy ends. not with a silent baby. this was just not right. everything inside me seemed so empty. i have never felt a pain like the one caused by this silent delivery room. i was angry that i had become part of this "group" of moms who had lost children.

at some point, ray asked what Carli looked like. they told us she was beautiful. they told us honestly that she was tiny, her skin was red, and her eyes were still closed... but they said she was pretty. we decided we did want to hold Carli. i could obviously tell she wasn't like a full term infant... but she was mine. and there was nothing scary about holding my baby. she was, in fact, beautiful.

after holding Carli, i felt an overwhelming sense of peace. i didn't hurt so much. i felt accomplished. even though she didn't get to come home with us, and i will forever miss my baby, i did was i was supposed to do. i fought for her as long as she had the strength to keep going. i loved her while she was with me, and i will love her forever. she never had to know pain; she never had her feelings hurt; she was never angry. all Carli ever knew was perfect love.           

i'm still sad, and i still have grieving to do. but, holding Carli somehow made it all make sense. i'm not mad that i have to be a part of this exclusive group of moms. i understand that it is a privilege. she really is an angel, and i got to hold her. i found amazing support from moms who had been here before me. some i talked to, some sent amazingly thoughtful gifts, and some i only knew through donations they made to the hospital in memory of their own angel. someday, i will be able to help other moms who have to face this uncertain territory. it is a scary road to travel; it's painful; it's unfair - - but more than anything, it is beautiful.