I found out I was pregnant on April 30th of this year. The pregnancy wasn't planned, but as soon as I saw the test, it was very much wanted. I have PCOS, and this was pregnancy #5 for me. I had had 2 mc, and 2 perfect pregnancies so far. The difference between them was fertility meds. Because this baby was conceived without meds, I was a worried mess my entire first trimester, but we got through it and thought all was well.
At 17 weeks into my pregnancy, my cousin gave me the best gift of all. She let me have an ultrasound done by her, which allowed me to see my little boy the way I will always remember him - perfect in every way. We all laughed at how much he was moving and I couldn't take my eyes off the screen. I began to imagine our lives with him, how my older son was getting a little brother and a friend for life, how my daughter would be an amazing big sister to yet another brother, and how i was getting another amazing gift, and my husband got to keep his office lol. We were happy. We were in love. We had chose the name Jacob Polaris (after my grandpa), or JP for short.
Monday, August 12, I went in for the ultrasound at my doctors office. I was 19 weeks pregnant. When we got into our room, the tech started the u/s. My first thought when she put the wand on me was that Jacob wasn't very active. In fact he wasn't moving at all. I hoped it was just my mind over thinking, but when she went to get a second tech, I knew what the outcome was going to be. My Jacob had died. I met with my doctor, and she gave me the option of a D&E, or induce labor. I chose to induce labor. She wanted to start that night, but with the next day being my son's birthday, I asked to wait. She was ok with waiting until the following night.
Tuesday, I tried to make it a normal day for all of us, and a special day for my son. We celebrated his birthday the best we could, and put the kids to bed. My MIL came over to stay the night, and to watch the kids for us. We got a call at 11PM, asking us to be at the hospital at 12:30. I think I was still in denial about what was happening until the first dose of meds were given at 4AM, and it was then that I started crying. I had cried off and on throughout the days prior, but now it was real and it hurt.
I got another dose at 8, and another at noon. I was beginning to cramp, but nothing very strong. I hadn't eaten much of anything the last couple days, and I was beginning to feel it. Before my dose at 4, the nurse came in and told me to eat some dinner, and she would be back in an hour for the next dose. As hungry as I was, I still only ate about half my food, but felt much better.
My last dose of meds was given around 5:30. I asked if I could get off the monitors so I could move and my nurse was more than willing to allow it. She also brought me a birthing ball to use if I wanted. I spent the next 2 hours pacing my room, bouncing and rocking on the ball and walking some more. Finally, my back hurt so bad, I wanted to lay down. Sometime between 8-9 that night, my contractions picked up. They were strong, but bearable. They kept asking if I wanted anything for pain and I said no. Around 10, my nurse was in checking on me, and was getting ready to leave, when my water broke. She checked me, and I had gone from 1cm to 6-7cm in just a couple hours. She told me it wouldn't be too much longer. The contractions started coming fast a furious. After about 15 minutes, I decided it wasn't worth it, and asked for pain meds. In my mind, I was already hurting emotionally, I didn't need the physical too.
By the time my nurse came back with the Stadol, I was hurting pretty bad. But the shot took it all away in a matter of seconds. The odd thing though, was it seemed my contractions had almost stopped. It was almost 5 minutes before I felt another one, and it was then that I told her he was coming. She checked again, and she could feel his hand. She told me to relax and went and got the doctor. 10 minutes later, he was born.
When I finally got to see him and hold him, I was amazed at how tiny and yet how perfect he was. He had all 10 fingers and toes. His arms and legs looked perfect. His face was round like his big brother's and mine, and his nose was wide like ours too. His mouth was open, and it reminded me of his siblings when they are laughing so hard they can't hardly breathe. He was beautiful. Truly, beautiful.
My biggest regret was getting the meds. Had I known it would be 10-15 more minutes, I would have sucked it up. But because of the meds, I couldn't keep my eyes open. I held Jacob for only a few minutes before handing him off. And for the first time in a few days, I slept. My nurse took him to measure him (8oz and 10 inches long. Tall and skinny like his siblings!) and take pictures. She brought him back in, and I kept him by my bed. He looked so fragile, I was afraid I'd break him if I held him. But I stared at him and touched him until we left. Saying goodbye was the hardest thing I've ever done. I left the hospital later that day with a teddy bear in my arms and a keepsake box with his stuff.
1 week later, the sorrow of his loss is still fresh in me. But I have been able to connect with others who have similar stories, and I have hope for a happy future one day.