Told by: Hope
We also have lost another baby to early miscarriage, Addie, our 4th child. Losing her was also a shock, and such a different yet very hauntingly familiar path. I got to hear Addie’s heartbeat 3 times, but the last time it was only 35 beats per minute. Again, I was alone without my husband…It all started Sunday March 21, 2010 (the anniversary of Zoe’s death 3 yrs prior) with spotting….then several ultrasounds and doc visits…low progesterone….more significant bleeding etc…. March 24, 2010 led us into yet another layer of grief and loss as we went for an ultrasound for our 4 child (a BIG surprise pregnancy!) and the heartbeat was only 35 bpm….Because of going to a perinatologist I had already heard her heartbeat strong 3 times since the 5th week of pregnancy–the bonding had begun strong and hard very quickly. I was almost 8wks along when I went in for a routine prenatal visit. The tech suddenly told me to wait and said there was a heartbeat but she needed to get the doc. The doc came in and listened and then said that there was a problem. The baby has a very low heartrate of 35, and most babies he saw with that low of a heartrate didn’t make it. Then they left me alone for what seemed like forever and I just laid there and cried. I couldn’t believe this was happening again, especially after we had delivered a successful rainbow and this was a very surprising pregnancy. Finally the doc came back in and said I would need to come back tomorrow to check for a heartbeat and that he would send me to a surgeon he knew to do the D & C unless I wanted to let things progress naturally. I asked to see the doctor that had delivered Zoe (the Greek guy), I told them that he had told me if I needed anything to have them page him, even if he was doing rounds at the hospital. So they called him and he came, and he refused to talk about what we would do next, he said, the baby is still alive right now, let’s focus on that. Pray and come back tomorrow. Then the rest is a fog for me that day as well–I know I stepped out into the hallway and made that same sort of fateful call to my husband at work again telling him this time that the baby was most likely going to die, if she hadn’t already died since I last heard her heartbeat. We had not yet picked out a name because we didn’t know the sex of the baby of course at 8 weeks. My husband and I went back the next morning. My favorite doc was there to handle it all. We had The US tech that came in that day was the same US tech that had confirmed for us that Zoe indeed had died in utero. As she began listening for a heartbeat, she was very quiet and said, boy I seem to the bearer of bad news for you don’t I? March 25, 2010 there was was sadly no heartbeat as the docs predicted. Of course we had prayed that whole night before that God would miraculously heal our baby and begged that we not go through losing another one. But she died. We scheduled the D & C for the next day… I could not believe we were going through losing a baby again. I didn’t understand why God would have let this happen after all that we had been through. Why us? Why again? I was devastated….double the grief…..another little one gone, she’s in there, is she really still there? Will God even now perform a miracle and make her little heart start beating again? She is real, I know she is! Don’t go baby, please don’t go….I don’t think I can survive this nightmare again….Oh God, help me…..March 26, 2010 I was admitted to the hospital for a D and C. We were on the line as far as what they recommended for the baby at that point–the choice was to allow the miscarriage to continue on “naturally” or to have a D and C to “clear out the uterus”. To finish out miscarriage at home would have most likely have taken up to 2 1/2 wks with an episode of seriously heavy bleeding lasting 4-5 hrs. It was an agonizing decision but we chose the D and C. All I can say is that it was absolutely horrible and I felt incredibly empty after it was over and I woke up in the recovery room. I wish I could have seen something tangible (as weird as that may sound), it was just awful. This grief was easier to bear in some ways and is harder to bear in others. There was unfortunately no meeting my sweet Addie face to face. No fingers to touch, no toes to see. For lack of a better way to say this, she was simply just …g…o…n…e… when I woke up from the D & C. I had asked a nurse beforehand about possibly seeing the remains, she just told me I needed to ask the doctor. I couldn’t bring myself to be my own advocate any further, so I didn’t ask, I felt too defeated and alone and scared to ask. Two doses of versed later, it was over and I was in recovery. We had no memorial service and now I wish we would have had something small with just a few close friends and family. I thought people were so silent about Zoe, but I was shocked to find out they were even more silent about Addie. We opted for some testing and found out she was a girl and she had a genetic disorder called Turner’s Syndrome, and most babies with this disorder do not survive. We named her Addie Kate–(Addie is Hebrew for “Created by God” and Kate is Greek for “pure”). Addie, You were our surprise, our unexpected little arrival. Mommy heard your heart beating 3 times and then something else unexpected….your heart was slowing down and the doctors said you weren’t going to make it. I prayed for a miracle, but all along YOU were the miracle that mattered most. We will be reunited one day and I long for that day. Love you forever my 3rd sweet girl, precious Addie Kate. I carry you with me always. We also got a Snow Fountain Weeping Cherry Tree in your memory–it had such sweet little white blossoms opening up so quickly. It is planted just near your sister Zoe’s Japanese Weeping Cherry that has beautiful little pink blooms every Spring. Love and Hugs, Mommy Mother of Abigail, Zoe, Isaiah, and Addie.
[You can read Addie’s big sister’s, Zoe Elizabeth’s, story, here.]