Stephanie Ashford
12-31-2008, 04:19 PM
I've been lurking around for about 8 months or so. Reading mostly, writing occasionally. I worked on some word art for Tasha and some retouching in the photographer area.
I posted pretty often on the ivillage MB for stillborn. Sometimes it was kind of ugly. I have been so full of anger and it seems to have permiated to every facet of my life.
I lost my son Owen on Feb 20th, 2008. The pregnancy had been pretty rough on me. I was having petit mal seizures the entire time. The neurologist said it was some kind of dystonic reaction to being pregnant. All the tests were inconclusive, but the baby seemed to be fine. He was growing by leaps and bounds.
We all heaved a sigh of relief when I passed the 24 week mark, because thats the general consensus for when a baby can survive out of the womb. Then every week after that, was like a bonus. I kept getting weaker, and he kept getting bigger. I followed all the rules. I took the vitamins and medicines like clockwork. I surrendered my drivers license for 6 months when one of the seizures knocked me out. (for an independant Irish woman, its hard to give that freedom up). I went on bed rest at 34 weeks and by 37 weeks, they were ready to induce, because it was making me so ill. I was so tired of the bio-physical ultrasounds, they ussually took about 30 minutes and I was having them every week. The last one I was at, I didn't even watch. All I was thinking was 'Can we get this over with.' (... if I only knew...)
I remember having some chocolate covered strawberries the night before, and they made me so sick. I even thought about going to the office to be checked out. My husband was telling me I was a hypochondriac because he didn't think it was a big deal that I was twitching non-stop. So I just went to bed.
The next morning, I put on the bright green shirt I got for Christmas (Kelly Green of course).. and went to the office to be induced. I sat in the waiting room and one of the women was remarking how I was glowing, and that I was "all baby." We talked about cloth diapers and breast feeding. When they called my name, I went back and got checked out, told them how I had been feeling sick and that he was not moving around much.
The NP went and got the portable ultrasound and it got so silent in the room. I was listening and listening and listening. And I knew that the heartbeat I was hearing was mine. She kept moving it around trying to find his. Everything else was kind of a blur, because I think my mind just left my body for a while.
They whisked me over to the big ultrasound room, and the tech shook her head, and in a very clinical voice, that they teach you to deal with impending hysterical mothers, she said "He's gone."
Everyone was waiting for me to freak out, to scream, they tried to hug me. But I pushed them away. 'I knew this was going to happen' was the thought going over in my mind. It wasn't a spiteful thought, or a paniced pecimistic thought. It was a resigned calm and factual thought.
You all might be thinking.. 'Wow, Stephanie, your a little crazy', but I did know it would happen. I kept having nightmares, the entire pregnancy, about it. I never felt the same attachment to Owen that I did to Erin (his big sister). Don't get me wrong. I did love him, and I prayed for him, and hoped for him. But I knew. I dreamed it over and over. And maybe that was my minds way of preparing me for how sad I was going to be.
So back to the ultrasound room... I just picked up my coat and walked out. I went across the hall to my doctors office and waited. He came in and patiently explained all of the details. To which I coldly replied, "Just cut this thing out of me and fix me while you are in there." The way he responded, let me know I was not the first mother, crazy with grief, because he just quietly said. "No."
Thats when I first cried. I just wanted this to be over. It was so incredibly unfair. I behaved, I followed EVERY SINGLE restriction they put on me, and still, it didn't matter. The nightmare came true. And if you think I was superstitious before... I am a whole-nother kind of superstitious now.
So, now I was crying. I went upstairs to the OB floor, and they put me in the equivalent-of-the-penthouse. I guess thats supposed to be some kind of consolation, but I really hated all that sunshine in my room. I felt like the world was going to go ahead and be happy without me participating. I still feel that way a lot of times now.
The nursing staff was very kind to me. They kept me warm, fed, and drugged. So the only pain I felt was in my heart. The priest was useless. He was not my own priest, he was the house chaplain/priest. And he kept saying all those things you have on the 'berieved parent wishlist' like "Dont be sad, he is in a better place." "You will have more children" and after delivery, he even went so far as to say, "Look at you, your so thin now." Yes, thats the only time in my life I will ever want to punch someone for telling me I look thin.
This labor was entirely different than Erins. With Erin, I had to push for hours and hours. With Owen, I really only felt one strong contraction, and then I was yelling for the nurse, because I thought John (my husband) was going to have to catch. They made just it in time for me to roll onto my back and them catch. They didn't even get to take the bed apart. I held my husbands hand and we both sobbed as he was born. I remember saying, "I am so sorry," as Owen came out.
He was huge. Not so heavy, but very long. 6 lbs 15 oz, and almost 21 inches. (he probably would have been taller than my husband in time) I couldn't get over how warm he felt. I dont know why that was suprising, he was inside me, he should be 98.6 degrees. But I have held my share of dead people - on the ambulance-, children included, and they were always cold.
All I wanted was a rewind button. Like I just missed him, If I could just back up a day or two, everything would be fine.
I didn't know about NILMDTS, and when the nurse asked to take some pictures, I firmly veto'd that idea. Thank god she took some anyway, because I would be heartbroken if I didn't have them. She only took 3. One of them was pretty nice, and the other's were pretty purple. I finally retouched them today and I suppose thats why I am writing this today, as opposed to any other arbitrary day.
http://ashford.liquidentropy.com/wordpress/NILMDTS_owen.jpg
This is my mother holding him after they gave him a bath.
I would not let the nurse take my picture.
http://ashford.liquidentropy.com/wordpress/NILMDTS_owen2.jpg
I posted pretty often on the ivillage MB for stillborn. Sometimes it was kind of ugly. I have been so full of anger and it seems to have permiated to every facet of my life.
I lost my son Owen on Feb 20th, 2008. The pregnancy had been pretty rough on me. I was having petit mal seizures the entire time. The neurologist said it was some kind of dystonic reaction to being pregnant. All the tests were inconclusive, but the baby seemed to be fine. He was growing by leaps and bounds.
We all heaved a sigh of relief when I passed the 24 week mark, because thats the general consensus for when a baby can survive out of the womb. Then every week after that, was like a bonus. I kept getting weaker, and he kept getting bigger. I followed all the rules. I took the vitamins and medicines like clockwork. I surrendered my drivers license for 6 months when one of the seizures knocked me out. (for an independant Irish woman, its hard to give that freedom up). I went on bed rest at 34 weeks and by 37 weeks, they were ready to induce, because it was making me so ill. I was so tired of the bio-physical ultrasounds, they ussually took about 30 minutes and I was having them every week. The last one I was at, I didn't even watch. All I was thinking was 'Can we get this over with.' (... if I only knew...)
I remember having some chocolate covered strawberries the night before, and they made me so sick. I even thought about going to the office to be checked out. My husband was telling me I was a hypochondriac because he didn't think it was a big deal that I was twitching non-stop. So I just went to bed.
The next morning, I put on the bright green shirt I got for Christmas (Kelly Green of course).. and went to the office to be induced. I sat in the waiting room and one of the women was remarking how I was glowing, and that I was "all baby." We talked about cloth diapers and breast feeding. When they called my name, I went back and got checked out, told them how I had been feeling sick and that he was not moving around much.
The NP went and got the portable ultrasound and it got so silent in the room. I was listening and listening and listening. And I knew that the heartbeat I was hearing was mine. She kept moving it around trying to find his. Everything else was kind of a blur, because I think my mind just left my body for a while.
They whisked me over to the big ultrasound room, and the tech shook her head, and in a very clinical voice, that they teach you to deal with impending hysterical mothers, she said "He's gone."
Everyone was waiting for me to freak out, to scream, they tried to hug me. But I pushed them away. 'I knew this was going to happen' was the thought going over in my mind. It wasn't a spiteful thought, or a paniced pecimistic thought. It was a resigned calm and factual thought.
You all might be thinking.. 'Wow, Stephanie, your a little crazy', but I did know it would happen. I kept having nightmares, the entire pregnancy, about it. I never felt the same attachment to Owen that I did to Erin (his big sister). Don't get me wrong. I did love him, and I prayed for him, and hoped for him. But I knew. I dreamed it over and over. And maybe that was my minds way of preparing me for how sad I was going to be.
So back to the ultrasound room... I just picked up my coat and walked out. I went across the hall to my doctors office and waited. He came in and patiently explained all of the details. To which I coldly replied, "Just cut this thing out of me and fix me while you are in there." The way he responded, let me know I was not the first mother, crazy with grief, because he just quietly said. "No."
Thats when I first cried. I just wanted this to be over. It was so incredibly unfair. I behaved, I followed EVERY SINGLE restriction they put on me, and still, it didn't matter. The nightmare came true. And if you think I was superstitious before... I am a whole-nother kind of superstitious now.
So, now I was crying. I went upstairs to the OB floor, and they put me in the equivalent-of-the-penthouse. I guess thats supposed to be some kind of consolation, but I really hated all that sunshine in my room. I felt like the world was going to go ahead and be happy without me participating. I still feel that way a lot of times now.
The nursing staff was very kind to me. They kept me warm, fed, and drugged. So the only pain I felt was in my heart. The priest was useless. He was not my own priest, he was the house chaplain/priest. And he kept saying all those things you have on the 'berieved parent wishlist' like "Dont be sad, he is in a better place." "You will have more children" and after delivery, he even went so far as to say, "Look at you, your so thin now." Yes, thats the only time in my life I will ever want to punch someone for telling me I look thin.
This labor was entirely different than Erins. With Erin, I had to push for hours and hours. With Owen, I really only felt one strong contraction, and then I was yelling for the nurse, because I thought John (my husband) was going to have to catch. They made just it in time for me to roll onto my back and them catch. They didn't even get to take the bed apart. I held my husbands hand and we both sobbed as he was born. I remember saying, "I am so sorry," as Owen came out.
He was huge. Not so heavy, but very long. 6 lbs 15 oz, and almost 21 inches. (he probably would have been taller than my husband in time) I couldn't get over how warm he felt. I dont know why that was suprising, he was inside me, he should be 98.6 degrees. But I have held my share of dead people - on the ambulance-, children included, and they were always cold.
All I wanted was a rewind button. Like I just missed him, If I could just back up a day or two, everything would be fine.
I didn't know about NILMDTS, and when the nurse asked to take some pictures, I firmly veto'd that idea. Thank god she took some anyway, because I would be heartbroken if I didn't have them. She only took 3. One of them was pretty nice, and the other's were pretty purple. I finally retouched them today and I suppose thats why I am writing this today, as opposed to any other arbitrary day.
http://ashford.liquidentropy.com/wordpress/NILMDTS_owen.jpg
This is my mother holding him after they gave him a bath.
I would not let the nurse take my picture.
http://ashford.liquidentropy.com/wordpress/NILMDTS_owen2.jpg