Told by: Stacy
It is crazy, I can still remember it like it was yesterday. Every feeling, every moment is as fresh in my mind now, 7 years later as it was that day.
It was the first weekend of February 2004. I went in for my shift a the Golden Palace. It was the weekend and we were slammed, and I mean SLAMMED!!! The other hostess did not show up so I was doing the job of 2 alone. Top that off with being 9 weeks pregnant, dizzy and nauseous. My stress and anxiety levels were through the roof that night. I felt like I was having a heart attack.
I took a harmless potty break and I began bleeding BADLY. Now if you know anything, bleeding + pregnancy = BAD! Well my sweet husband happened to show up and we decided if the bleeding has not stopped by the end of my shift then we would go to the E.R.
And to the E.R. we went.
I fully expected to hear that I had lost my baby. I already started preparing mentally for that news. After all the hubub, the ultrasound showed a living healthy little bean of a baby. He measured right at 9 weeks and his heart was beating, he was still alive! That was the first time seeing my baby and I was head over heels in love! I dreamed of our future together. I pictured how perfect our lives would be.
So the doctor sent us home and told me to stay in bed. I had an appointment with my ob/gyn doctor Monday morning. I was just praising God that our little bean was ok that day.
So Monday morning I was still bleeding and we in for my appointment. The doctor did a check and an ultrasound. Things looked good, baby measure right on and his little heart was beating away.
I got put on bed rest/no work. I also had doctor appointments twice a week every week to keep a check on the baby and growth and everything. Things kept measuring right on and things were going perfect……..except the bleeding. It was the most amazing thing. When I look back now, all of those appointment were such a blessing. I got to bond with my son. I got to see him and hear his heart beating. I looked forward to seeing how much he had grown. I look back now and treasure those memories from those appointments.
My appointment on March 3rd, 2004 was at 11:30am. She checked and he had grown quite a bit. He was sleeping and the ultrasound wand woke him up. He wiggled and squirmed and it was so cute. He looked amazing and she told me she was 99% sure that things were going to be ok and that I would carry him to term. I loved seeing him that day because he was so active, little did I know I would be holding him that night.
We went home and all was ok until the early evening. I started having severe cramps. Later I learned those were actually contractions, I just thought I was dying.
I just kept telling myself over and over what the doctor said, she was 99% sure all would be well. I couldn’t fall into that 1% could I? I couldn’t bare the pain any longer so Matthew called the doctor’s office and she said it was ok and all checked out and i should be fine but prescribed me some pain pills. Against my instinct I sent Matthew to the store to pick them up. Of course they took forever to fill the prescrip.
While my sweet husband was gone I went into the bathroom. There I gave birth to my baby. I was 13 weeks along. This was NOT supposed to be happening.
I passed my son and then the placenta. Then I screamed, I yelled, I cried, I shook my fist at God. I felt so many horrible things that I never knew I could feel.
Then I say there. Numb. How was I supposed to tell me husband that our baby had died? Why me? Why was this happening to us?
Once I regained some composure I really looked at my baby. I did what any parent does and I counted his fingers and toes. Yep, he had all of them. He had the most tiny little delicate fingers and toes with little fingernails and toenails growing. He had my feet for sure. Long and skinny. I was also able to see that he was a he. The doctor later told me that if it had been any earlier of a loss that we wouldn’t have been able to tell. What a blessing to get to know. I am so thankful that we got to know the gender. Little Ryley Jacob fit perfectly in the palm of my hand.
Matthew came home and all that I could say was “He’s Gone” and all Matthew could manage to say was “WHAT??” Then he came in and saw for himself.
That was the first time I had seen my husband really cry.
We cleaned Ryley up and took some video and pictures of him. Then we went downstairs to get ready to head to the hospital.
Matthew stopped and he started playing Jesus Loves Me on the piano. I sat on the couch with our son and cried my guts out. To this day, that song still makes me cry this many years later.
Matthew called our pastor and told him what happened. It just happened to be during church and everyone stopped and prayed. I felt those prayers. We felt those prayers. Those prayers kept us together, kept us sane.
We headed to the E.R. Stupid stupid doctors. It was just an awful trip in there. The most stupid question I am asked is “What makes you think you are having a miscarriage?” I was like “DUH!! My son is in this cup that I already told you about” It was just the most horrible experience ever. After all the bad, the chaplain came in. She was a God-send. She prayed with us, she gave us pamphlets and information on loss. The best thing she did was take out this plaster mold thing and her and the nurse made us a hand and foot print of our son. I cherish that to this day. It is the only “Proof” that I can display and show someone who asks, Yes our son was real. It was “Just a miscarriage”. I hate it when people say that. Anyways I cherish those prints. They are barely visible because his hands and feet were so tiny and fragile but she got them good enough for me. I will never forget the love and compassion the chaplain showed us when we had such a hard time with the rest of the hospital staff.
We made sure that they released Ryley to the funeral home so that we could give our son a proper burial. They did tests on him and then sent him over to the funeral place.
After we left the hospital we went out to Kelso to Shari’s to eat though neither of us were hungry. We were both numb. I was numb. I was sick and numb. I was so in shock, I was carrying new life one second and the next it was all gone. How could it be over so fast?
Now all of my loss I remember clearly. The healing process is all a blur. Some of it stand out though. I have shared the story of my loss before many many times, but I have never really written out what really happened like this. I wanted to document it, one day my kids may want to know what really happened when they are much older. I want to be able to tell them and not leave anything out. I also hope that someone may be helped by reading my story and seeing that there is healing after a loss. There is hope and there is happiness. And that through it all God IS GOOD.