“‘Well,’ she paused. ‘Five days is a long time. If it were me, I’d want to know.’ I could not get her words out of my head. I purchased the finest pregnancy tests 8 quarters could buy.”
‘Mommy! I’m going to ask Santa for a baby in your belly!’ Doing all I could to keep it together, I replied, ‘That may be a hard promise for him to keep.’
‘I lay in bed with wires and IV’s attached to me. A nurse walked in, armed with a breast pump. ‘You need to start pumping,’ she said. Excuse me?’
“A confused expression took over my face. I was barely alive.”
‘She was known as ‘Baby A.’ My husband and I hadn’t even discussed names when our triplets arrived more than 17 weeks premature.’
“None of our children were expected to survive. And as hard as it is to admit, I was worried about wasting a name. If none of my children survived, wouldn’t I need those names in the future?”
‘The doctor intensively listened to her heartbeat – troubled by what he heard. We realized the severity of the situation. Immediately dropping to my knees in despair, we moved into the hospital.’
“I immediately started CPR and called 911 while my husband tried to keep the boys out of the room. Things escalated quickly. Before I knew it, our road was blocked by police, firefighters, and an ambulance. All these people lent us their hands in attempt to save our daughter.”
‘My daughter looked up at me. ‘What’s that,’ she innocently asked. I wiped away tears. ‘I miss your brother and sister.’ She leaned her head against mine. ‘I miss them too,’ she whispered.’
“As I opened her closet door, something tumbled to the ground. I reached down and picked up the small storage container, knowing instantly what was inside. I took a deep breath as I rubbed my fingers across the sticker that said ‘hospital things.’”
‘I pictured a perfect Christmas. I was pregnant with triplets and expected a chaotic holiday. But reality set in more than 4 months prior to my due date.’
“As my husband and I decorated our tree, the tears trickled onto the pine needles. I hung an ornament with the words ‘Baby’s First Christmas’ stretched across. Suddenly it hit me.”
‘Are you ready to hold your daughter?,’ asked the nurse. I looked at her confused, my broken heart beating quickly.’
“The nurse smiled at me and nodded as I was overcome with emotion. Just hours after planning our daughter’s funeral, I was about to hold my child for the very first time.”
‘He was 6 months old and only 9 pounds. I am a living nightmare. They knew it was all a tremendous f*ck up. They knew he was like this because of them.’
“I got the call around 3:30 a.m. I spent 9 months preparing for that call. 9 months worth of nights obsessively checking the volume on the phone, making sure it was charged, that it was close by, that I hadn’t somehow missed any calls. Well I got my call. Loud and clear.”
‘What do you do with all the ‘stuff?’ It’s gut-wrenching for parents who lost a child. The dreams of a baby in the nursery are no longer viable, and now you are left with ‘stuff.’
“Our nursery sat untouched. I couldn’t open the door. There was no need for 3 burping pillows. But, there was one box that sat in our basement for nearly 2 years. I held my breath as I opened that final storage box.”
‘There is a lot of fluid in there. I am going to get your doctor.’ My heart sank, and I debated calling my husband, but just sat there, numb, and decided to wait.’
“I trusted my doctor dearly, so I knew she’d have something good to say. She always did. She did not this time.”
