My Story

Never in my wildest dreams did I think my life would take such a turn. I remember being in middle school and dreaming about growing up, getting married and having children. I always wanted 3 or 4. I grew up. I got married. But where are my children? My husband, Jeremiah, and I were married on June 19, 2004. Almost right away we decided to leave things up to God and while not concentrating on getting pregnant, we weren't going to prevent it either. I was literally only on birth control for a month. A year went by, then another and another and still no babies. I went to a doctor for a basic check up, no problems were found. Jeremiah was checked out and no problems there either. Unexplained infertility. So, we tried the temperature charting for a brief time then kind of gave up actively pursuing pregnancy. We switched our focus to buying our first home. We finally found a home we agreed upon and put it under contract in February of 2009 and would be closing in mid April. About 2 weeks before closing I was starting to not feel like myself. Constantly tired, my sense of smell was off the charts, and I would get sick every time I brushed my teeth. We'd had a couple of letdowns before so I put off taking a test for a few days. My cycles were irregular so I was not counting on that to be any sort of symptom. A week before closing Jeremiah was helping a friend of his from work move and I got brave and got a test.I went home and took it and was in complete shock to find out I was finally pregnant!!! I was shaking and didn't know what to do with myself and it would be a bit before Jeremiah got home. I couldn't contain my excitement. So, I called my best friend and told her my news. Then I decided I wanted to find a fun way to tell Jeremiah the news so I went to the store and bought a bib that said, "I love Daddy!". On the drive home I rested my hand on my tummy telling my baby to hold on tight and how much I loved him or her. I couldn't wipe the smile off my face. I got home to our apartment and knowing that Jeremiah was riding his scooter and would be coming in through the sliding back door, I taped the bib on the door at eye level so he would see it when he came home. About an hour later when he finally did I was standing in the hallway watching, having heard him pull in. He stood there and looked at the bib with a goofy look on his face. Then he walked in and said, "Really?!!" I confirmed it and we were both giggly and the happiest we'd been in our lives. We talked about how to tell people and knowing neither of us would be able to keep it a secret decided to go ahead and share the news with our families. We drove to my Mom's house, with the pregnancy test in a ziplock bag in my purse knowing my mom would want proof. As we walked in Jeremiah got his parents on the phone, they live 4 hours away in St. Louis. So, at the exact same time we told each of our parents the news. As expected my mom needed evidence. Then she got my grandpa on the phone and insisted I tell him. I will never forget his excited, "Oh boy!" when I told him he was going to be a great-grandpa. Me being his only grandchild and my mom his only child, this was a huge deal for him. The next few months flew by in bliss, with the exception of everyday morning sickness. I would listen in wonder to the baby's heartbeat at every doctor's visit. Due to Jeremiah's work schedule I generally went to my appointments alone. We would constantly debate on names and had agreed on a girls name but couldn't agree on a boy's name. If the baby was a girl we decided on Madilynn Isabell. Madilynn had actually came to me in a dream I had about the baby and I loved the name. Isabell was my maternal grandmother's name. She passed away on December 2, 2004. I knew my grandpa would be moved by us using her name. Finally at 17 weeks and 6 days I got my one and only ultrasound. I still thank God that Jeremiah was able to go with me that day. It would be the one and only time we'd ever get to see our baby alive. We found out that we were having a girl and we were ecstatic! Especially since we had only been able to agree on a name for a girl! Watching her during that ultrasound is an image I will never get out of my mind. She was very active. She kicked straight out at one point and we have a perfect picture of her adorable feet and toes. Then we watched her move her arms and next thing we knew she was sucking her thumb. Jeremiah wanted to make sure he was seeing what he thought he was seeing and had to ask the technician who said that's what she was doing. We were already so proud of our girl for knowing how to suck her thumb! After the ultrasound we went straight to Target and bought the outfit we intended to take her home in. We were so excited we couldn't help ourselves. As time went by her kicks got stronger and stronger. We used to joke because she was always elusive when Jeremiah would try to feel her move. But he'd fall asleep and end up turning his back towards me, I would cuddle up to his back and she'd start kicking away at him without him ever realizing it. I always told him she was kicking his butt in his sleep. We would get laughs out of it almost daily. Our cat would try and lay on my tummy when I would get in bed and she'd kick him and scare him off every time. If I sat with the laptop on my lap and typed she'd kick it and nearly knock it out of my hands. Our girl was definitely strong and active. We had a routine. I would feel her first thing in the morning, around lunch time, around the time I got off work, around dinner time, before bed time, and she'd usually wake me up kicking around 2 a.m. And if I had ice water or peanut butter.....watch out!!! We were nearing the due date of December 8, 2009 and couldn't contain our excitement. We teased my mom that I'd go into labor during her Thanksgiving dinner, which was about 2 weeks before my due date. She was relieved when I didn't. December 1 I went in for my 39 week check up and everything looked great. Her heart rate was perfect, she was moving so much she kept kicking the doppler and we could hear a thump on the speaker whenever she made contact. Like she was chasing it. All was great. I was just under 2 cm dialated. My doctor set up my appointment for the following week, on my due date, and if I hadn't had her by then I'd be induced. She also put me off work because my blood pressure was getting a little high and I had a stressful job writing obituaries for the newspaper. So with a smile on my face and doctor's note in hand I went by work to let them know. I went home and all was well and the anticipation was through the roof. I remember waking up that night at 2 a.m. to Madilynn's normal kicking routine and just laying there awake enjoying the feel of her kicking. Jeremiah was asleep of course and missed it. That night it felt like it went on longer and stronger than ever before, but I was happy and couldn't get enough. Finally drifting off to sleep about the same time she did. I woke up the next day, my first day off work, and decided to put the finishing touches on the nursery. I got everything in place, washed all her clothes, and went through the diaper bag to make sure everything was ready to go to the hospital when the time came. I felt little flutters now and then but I was so focused on nesting that eventually I didn't notice. The afternoon came and went and I finally realized I hadn't felt our little drummer recently. I got some ice water and peanut butter ready to reassure myself all was ok since she always went wild whenever I had those. I downed the water.............nothing........the peanut butter.........nothing. I laid in bed, as still as possible, for about 30 minutes........nothing. Worry started to wiggle into my brain. Jeremiah got home from work and I told him I was scared. We called the hospital and they told us to come in right away. We grabbed my bag and the diaper bag and got on our way. The whole drive trying to talk ourselves into thinking everything was ok, but knowing deep down it wasn't. We got there around 9 p.m. and were taken into triage where first they used the dopper to try and find her heartbeat. They kept finding mine instead. I was terrified and my heart was racing like crazy. We'd start to hear something, start to feel relief, then they'd figure out it was my heart instead. So, they brought in a sonographer. They turned the screen where we couldn't see it. The sonographer and 2 nurses staring at the screen with serious looks on their faces. I could tell it wasn't good. What is burned in my brain the most? Hearing a nurse whisper to the sonographer, "Are you calling it?", I could tell she was trying to keep me from hearing her question. Then the sonographer nodding her head, she was calling it. Our daughter, who had been thriving inside me for 9 months, who had never taken a breath, never would. She was gone. The date? December 2, 2009. Exactly 4 years after loosing my grandmother, who we'd named her after. My husband and I were sobbing uncontrollably. I asked for my mom and gave the nurse her phone number. They called my doctor who said she'd be there right away and that she wanted me induced, no c-section. Within minutes I was in a delivery room and it seems like less than 10 minutes and my doctor was there. Visably upset. My mom followed shortly after. 9 sticks later I had an iv of pitocin in my hand. To make the situation more miserable they had trouble getting my viens and my arms and hands were covered with bruises. Finally getting it in the top of my left hand but the only way the drip would work was if my wrist was bent. So, in addition to being in shock because my baby had died inside of me, in addition to going through labor, I also had to concentrate on keeping that wrist bent. I had not planned on any pain medication, but my doctor overrode me saying that I was in enough pain and she didn't want me to have any more than necessary. She also told me she wasn't being cruel by not giving me a c-section, but since this was my first baby, and she wasn't living, she didn't want to limit me having children in the future since most doctor's won't do more than 3 c-sections. I later thanked her for that consideration. So, I had an epidural put in and surprise surprise, it didn't work like it was supposed to. Instead of working from the abdominal area down, it worked from the waist down, so while it wound up making the actual delivery bareable, it did nothing for my contractions. Which were hard and fast throughout labor because they had the pitocin set so high. So, they gave me stadol, which didn't really do much for the pain, but made me not care about it. And helped me tune out the sound of a baby's heart monitor beating steadily in the room next door. After about 10 hours in labor I was at a 6. At that point it was about 8 a.m. and I was told that my doctor was supposed to be going off duty at that time and leaving for vacation. However, she wanted to be the one to deliver my baby so she was staying. They were going to give it a little bit longer but if I hadn't progressed more by 10 they would go ahead and do the c-section. I had been given a button for the epidural, even though it wasn't really helping much, but it at least made me feel like I had some control. I pushed that button a lot. Even knowing that I only got something out of it part of the time. The stadol helped better than anything and I was able to get a little bit of rest. At about 9:50 I came to and started begging for more stadol. I was convinced it was wearing off and I was in immense pain. The nurse came in and asked what I was feeling. I told her it felt like a bowling ball between my legs. So she checked me and told me I was more than ready to start pushing. It was so close she didn't even want to leave the room and instead stuck her head out the door and yelled at the nurses station to get my doctor. She was there almost instantly, she had stayed in a room down the hall. At 10:14 a.m., December 3, 2009, our daughter was born, without a cry, a wimper, a breath, nothing. The second I delivered and my doctor had her in her arms, she started to cry. She said it was very recent. It had just happened. She could find no wrong with our baby, she was perfect. We held her briefly then the nurses took her next door to a room they kept open and cleaned her up and they put her in the outfit we had so lovingly picked out after the ultrasound. They had pulled a curtain across half the room. Half had my family members, who had trickled in through the night. The other half had a wicker crib in it where some photos of Madilynn were taken. My doctor did what she needed to do for me and left and came back with Madilynn so we could spend a little bit of time with her. We cried, pictures were taken, we had her baptized. We managed one little laugh while my husband was holding her. I told him, "At least she doesn't have your big nose!." I was still feeling the effects of the stadol at that point. We still laugh about that. Then the nurses came back to let us know they had figured out what happened when they gave her a bath. They took off her clothes so that we could see her umbilical cord. The tiniest, thinist, little white thread, an amniotic band we would later learn, had wrapped itself in a knot around her umbilical cord. That tiny thread had taken our beautiful baby away from us. My doctor, who still had not left for her vacation, came in every few minutes for a couple of hours to check on us. Crying with us herself and sharing that that day was also the anniversary of her losing her mother. She was constantly assuring me that I did nothing wrong. It was not my fault. 6 weeks later at my follow up appointment she told me she did a bunch of research on the amniotic band. She said she had heard of it before, but in 30 years of practice had never actually seen it happen. That's how rare it was. She assured me it was not genetic and with the chances of it happening being so small to begin with, the chances of it happening again were even smaller. She also confessed that she had been 2nd guessing herself, should she have went ahead and sent me to be induced on December 1 when I was there for my appointment? But no, everything had seemed normal and perfect. There was nothing to warn us of the nightmare that was to come.