This blog will most likely end up being about whatever happens to pop into my head during the day, but much of it will revolve around what I consider to be THE defining event in my life, so I thought it would be appropriate to talk about it (briefly).
April 16, 2012, I found out I was pregnant with our first child. I took the test at 3:30 in the morning while we were on vacation in New Smyrna Beach, and I remember weeping and shaking with shock and joy as I woke my husband up to tell him the news. I had an incredibly easy, textbook pregnancy, and in July we discovered we were having a girl! We decided to name her Ava and began preparing for her arrival on Christmas Day.
However, our 23-week ultrasound revealed that her umbilical cord had only two vessels (there are normally three). My OB didn't see this as any problem, but sent me to the hospital for a closer look, since the machines there were better. Sept. 6, we went to the Maternal-Fetal Medicine office and our worlds fell apart. The doctor told us that Ava was missing a bone in her forearm and had a life-threatening birth defect known as Congenital Diaphragmatic Hernia (CDH). This is when there is a hole in the diaphragm that allows the stomach or intestines to migrate into the baby's chest cavity. The hernia can be fixed after birth, but the organs in the chest crowd the heart and the not-quite-developed-yet lungs. The survival rate they gave us was 50%.
I tried not to lose hope and we did everything we could to boost Ava's growth and give her the best chance at life: steroid shots, regular monitoring, I drank GALLONS of milk. Everything seemed to be doing well. She was always very active and had a strong heartbeat. I didn't care about her defects or her disabilities. I just wanted her to live.
At the end of October, my OB called me after my appointment and told me that my blood pressure was a little high and she wanted me to come back in a few days to check that I didn't have preeclampsia. I wasn't too worried about it, but went anyway. During the fetal stress test (which I had been getting every two weeks), they weren't always able to find where Ava was located or hear her heartbeat through the massive amounts of amniotic fluid I was steadily gaining. On this particular day, they performed a quick ultrasound to find her position, and discovered a large pocket of fluid around Ava's lung.
I was to triage at the hospital immediately and they put me on bedrest until I went into labor. During my stay, I received daily ultrasounds to make sure that Ava was still moving and alive. Everything went okay for four days, then came the ultrasound that I knew would change my life. She wasn't moving and her heartbeat kept dropping down to 80 bpm. About half of what it should be. The doctors told me she would have to come out in order to save her, and Ava Sylvia was born on November 4, 2012 at 9:48am via C-section. She weighed only 2lbs, 3oz. but was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen.
The doctors didn't think that she would make it out of the OR, but she did. She made it into the next day, on which they performed emergency surgery to fix the hernia to try to help her blood oxygen levels. It worked. For a while. But that Wednesday, we heard the worst news we could ever hear: "We've done everything we can. I'm sorry." Our precious daughter wasn't going to make it.
She lasted another 24 hours (a total of 4 days of life), and passed away on November 8, 2012.
In dealing with the grief of being a bereaved mother, I have learned that losing a child changes the entire fabric of your life. I am always sad. Even when I am happy, it is just a layer of one emotion covering a foundation of sad. When I am angry, I am also sad. When I am sad, I am doubly sad. More than sad, I am broken. Angry. Ruined.
Yes, I have gotten back to some semblance of what was, at one point, normal. But nothing is "back to normal." Everything has changed and my life will forever be different. I will never get over this. If you're going to know anything about me, it is important that you learn that first.
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