My Story, Part 2

As promised here is Part 2:

As I sat in that waiting room, wondering what fate was waiting for my sweet Hailey on the other side of that ultrasound room wall, all I could think of was, “Is it my fault? Did I do something? Maybe I did something to her… I am so ready to be her mommy, this isn’t happening, it can’t be happening.” I just stared at the plants across from me, thinking this room was too calm for the thoughts that were spinning in my head.

My mother’s friend from church worked at this OB-GYN. She was a large chested and very joyful woman, she made me smile every time I saw her. She waved at me as I came in for my appointment, not realizing what was going on. Her name was Miss DeeDee. She was so kind to me, ever since I came to that office. Most people were not very kind to me later in my pregnancy, and her grace and mercy filled me up with warmness.

As I was called in by the ultrasound technician, dread filled my entire body. The technician looked at me how most people these days looked at me, with judgement and with little care. Almost as if this were a bother to her. She had me lay on the table, and started the ultrasound, without the doctor or anyone else in the room with me. Then, the most horrible words I had ever heard, “Yep. It’s dead, see the head hanging right there?”

Now I don’t know if she thought I was a teenage mom who didn’t want her baby, or if she really was the meanest bitch on the face of the planet, but at that moment I didn’t care. I must have screamed something horrible at her, because sweet Miss DeeDee came running into the dark ultrasound room and buried my face in her large heaving bosom. I screamed and cried, and screamed some more. I was so thankful that DeeDee was there for me at that moment. She hushed me like I was a baby myself, rocking me back and forth, whispering things like “It’s okay, baby, everything’s going to be okay. I know it hurts, you just cry, baby.” I’m crying now thinking about her. They placed me in a room by myself at this point. Again, I was alone for a few minutes with my thoughts. I started to feel numb. I kept thinking ‘maybe they can save her….maybe if I say I’ll give her up for adoption that will save her…’ but then I’d snap back to reality, and it kept sinking further and further in that life was about to get really hard. Chris arrived first, and he was crying and puffy faced as I told him the news. I remember him saying,”I was so ready to be a dad.” We consoled each other, never left each others’ side.

Then, I don’t remember much, except that the doctor told me they would need to induce labor, and I would need to have Hailey immediately. I would have to give birth to my sweet girl, but not get to bring her home with me. I remember next being in the hospital bed, them hooking me up to IVs and monitors, and them inducing my labor. They didn’t think it would take very long because Hailey was very small. This would prove to be false as well.

The anesthetist came in to give me an epidural because the contractions were starting to really hurt. I could only have ice chips, and I had been in labor for a few hours already. Let me tell you, the worst part about labor, to me, is the shot they put in your back. He had me lay on my side, and he told me to be very still. It’s very hard to sit still, especially knowing you’re about to have a huge needle plunged into your spine. He was going to count to three, and then do it, he said. “One…”, and the needle went in.  This anesthetist didn’t have what I’d call a bedside manner. In fact, he didn’t like me, again, like a lot of other people didn’t like me because of my “situation”. I am not saying this because he stuck me with a horse-sized needle, which was bad enough. For one, my mother overheard him in the hallway speaking about me with disgust. I don’t know what he said, nor do I really want to, but I can imagine his words sounding like a pit of vipers as he spoke. My mother caught him, and he apparently was very embarrassed. She scolded him, all 4’9″ of her, as she told him she didn’t care how he felt about the situation, just treat her daughter with respect and don’t hurt her. It was a little too late as he had already inflicted more damage than any of us knew.

At first, the epidural came as a welcome relief to the pain of the contractions. It felt strange to be paralyzed from the waist down, but nice not to hurt, at least physically. And again, something abnormal began happening, as if any of this as normal. I started having trouble swallowing, which is normally an involuntary action the body performs every few seconds to keep your throat from drying out. We all know how to swallow. Except, I was losing the ability to do this normal thing. I was sucking air and all of a sudden it hit me, I was numb from the neck down. I couldn’t feel anything. It is a horrifying experience to be so defenseless. They immediately called the anesthetist back into my room and he turned me back over. He had put too much medication into my spine and it was numbing my entire body. He had to draw some of the meds (and along with it, my spinal fluid) out of my spine to ease the numbing effect. I was numb for what seemed like hours, but then finally, at last, I could eat my ice chips and swallow again.

Family, mine and Chris’s, church members, friends and even people I didn’t know swarmed our hospital room, giving us prayers and comforting hugs. As people began to pray over me, I began to feel a peace which I had been longing for, and begging God for. He gave it to me. I realized at that moment that for whatever reason, this had happened, and there was nothing I could do about it. I decided to be at peace with it. It hurt so badly, and it still hurts today, but God washed over me with warmth and I was going to be okay. I felt safe. This feeling would come and go in waves over the next few weeks. Healing after loss is just so very difficult.

I was in labor for around 2 days. 2 days without food, only ice chips. 2 days of knowing I would not get to hold my sweet girl and take her home. 2 very long days. At one point I remember my mother begging the doctor to please just give me a C-section so we could be done with this. He declined, and told us that it really would be best if I could have her naturally, so that I wouldn’t have the added surgery recovery time once she was born. And once it was explained it that way, he really was right. He said he knew I was in pain, but if after this day I didn’t have her, they would then go in and perform the C-section. Finally, my body decided it had had enough of this, and fully dilated, it was time to push. The epidural had mostly worn off since the last time it had been given, and I could feel everything. I kind of wanted to, to be be able to retrieve some of the pain my daughter had probably gone through, pain that I didn’t even know was happening to her. While I thought she was kicking in happiness, she was probably hurting. She suffered alone, and I wanted to take some of that from her, in some strange way.

My poor sweet Hailey Elisabeth Lacy was born on December 28th, and she was only 3 pounds and 1 ounce. She was beautiful. The most beautiful thing I had ever seen in my short life. She had so much black hair, her lips were her father’s, and her long graceful fingers were perfect. She should have been bigger, and once they saw the cord they understood why. My little girl definitely was a gymnast, but she had done so much flipping that a knot had been tied in her umbilical cord, and it had also wrapped around her neck a few times. She was not able to get the nutrients she needed to survive at her size, and finally she succumbed to starvation, and possibly being suffocated from the cord around her neck as well. It was too difficult to tell the actual cause of death without an autopsy, which we declined. I held my little girl for hours. I took pictures with her. I kissed her head. I held her hands. I miss her so much.

Now it was time to plan my baby girl’s funeral.Read Part 3 Tomorrow