TRIGGER WARNING: this post contains sensitive information.
The following is a piece by guest blogger, Stephanie F. Interested in guest blogging? Visit us here.
This is a tough subject for me. It’s a tough subject when it comes to any mama. No one wants to go through it or live it. But some of us do and some of us are thankful every day that we’re not part of “that club”.
I was 17 and found myself pregnant. A million thoughts crossed my mind. “How am I going to take care of a baby, I don’t even know how to take care of myself?” “How will I provide for this baby?” “Will he stick by my side and help me raise our child?”
Little did I know our world was about to become something I couldn’t even fathom.
I woke up around 2 am and my now husband, boyfriend at the time, and I had fallen asleep. I quickly woke him up and made him leave, my parents would kill us if he slept over, but we had fallen asleep watching a movie. I let him out and went back to bed. Within an hour I had woken up with horrible pain and wasn’t so sure what was going on.
*Trigger warning* Now comes the detail, so if you’re sensitive to topics like this you may want to scroll.
I had this horrible shooting pain and thought maybe I had to poop. I went to the bathroom and tried to push. I heard a pop but thought nothing of it, I was 22 weeks pregnant and had just turned 18 years old, what could go wrong? I felt relief and went back to bed. Not even 5 mins later, I was “peeing myself” so I went to wake my mom up. I said to her “I feel like I’m peeing myself and I can’t stop it” she, in the middle of the night said “maybe you have a bladder infection, let me call the doctor” in the meantime it started again and I ran into the bathroom. As the fluid stopped I wiped and frantically called for my mom. There was blood on the toilet paper. At this point she tried reassuring me by telling me it would be ok, and although she didn’t realize I knew and heard the panic in her voice as she told my dad she needed to call the ambulance.
I wrapped a towel around myself and went to my bedroom to get new clothes since everything was soaked. I grabbed clothes and headed back to the bathroom. By the time I went back to the bathroom, there was blood running down my legs. I knew something wasn’t right.
Fast forward to about 4 am and they had me settled into a hospital bed with a monitor on me. The doctor came in to do another ultrasound and that’s when I heard the most horrific words in my entire life: “Your baby is not going to make it.”
Ya know what the craziest part of that statement was? I could still feel my baby moving inside of me. He was “partying” like he normally did every night. I was so confused.
They gave me the decision to let it happen naturally or to induce. I chose to induce because I just wanted my nightmare to end.
On October 22, 2002 at 5:54 pm my beautiful baby boy was born stillborn. I chose not to hold or see him. As a 35 year old adult now, I regret it. However, I know the newly 18 year old me made the right decision.
Thankfully the wonderful nurses made a box for me. It included his footprints, his bracelets, his blanket, some other things, and pictures of him. I will always have a chunk of my heart missing. I went through hell to get through the depression, anxiety, and why me?
Therapy, medication, and will power pulled me out of the dark days. Maybe one day I will share that, for now, it’s in my heart.
In 2009 my husband and I married. In April of 2010 we found out we were expecting our rainbow baby. I had so many mixed emotions!!!
Knowing this would not be easy, we relied on hope. Without going into more detail, I had a cerclage placed at 21 weeks because my cervix started to dilate again. At 38 weeks I was induced because I was slightly leaking fluid.
On January 6, 2011(10 days early) our son, Nicholas Anthony, was born at 10:29 pm. He was perfect in every way. As much as our hearts ached for our first born, we were so excited to finally be parents. He became our world.
I would also like to add, as tough as my pregnancy was with Nick, when he was 3, I wanted to do it again. My husband was willing to try but nervous because “we had our miracle” and didn’t want to “push our luck.”
After a few years of not getting pregnant, my monthly friend was all over the place and inconsistent. We took it as a sign that we weren’t meant to have another and we made peace with that.
Come July 2018 and Aunt Flo didn’t show up. No biggie, that’s the normal for me. Nick was now 8, and we were living life. I had a pregnancy test under the sink because I randomly took them just to be sure.
Boom. A big, fat, positive pregnancy test stared back at me and all of the thoughts that I had at 17 came rushing back, except it was more like “OMG can we start all over?” “OMG we’re old now, how is this gonna work?” And “Nick is 8, how is he gonna feel being a big brother?”
Then the other anxiety-ridden thoughts came to me: “ how are we going to explain the complicated pregnancy to Nick?”.. “What if I lose this baby?.. How do we tell him?”.. It was like everything happening again, we knew how to handle it, but how do we involve Nick in all of this?
My cerclage was placed right away and I was monitored weekly. To be honest, it was the easiest pregnancy to deal with, with the reassurance of the stitches in place to help. We were honest with Nick from the moment we told him.
On March 25 2019 at 2:18 pm, our sassy little girl, Evelyn Nicole was born. It was also my quickest and easiest delivery.
I guess I’m trying to tell everyone, yes, being a mommy of an angel is hard. Like really hard. It never goes away. And I know I’m lucky because not only did I get one rainbow baby, I got two, but still you never forget. My son is old enough to understand. He’s seen the box and its contents (minus the pictures because I don’t think he’s old enough to handle that) but he knows he has an older brother in heaven. And one day my little girl will know too.
The heartache NEVER goes away. The what if’s, what could’ve been, what should’ve been, etc… But I know through me, my husband, our children, and our family, our first little boy will never be forgotten.
So, there’s my story- whether it’s a story of hope, comfort, or gratitude I’m not entirely sure but I hope that even just one reader finds peace in knowing angels exist in many forms. To my THREE angels- I’ll always be your mommy. You’ll always be my first thought of the day and my last thought at night. I live and breathe for you.