Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month-Meet Nancy

Meet Me. This is my story and these are my words.

..........................................................

October 11, 2011....that day will forever be etched in my mind. That was the day that my world fell apart. That was the day that I learned just how strong I was. That was the day that I said hello and goodbye in the same sentence to my baby girl Violet. 

The last time I felt Violet move was on a Friday night. We were out to dinner, celebrating my birthday. We got dessert and she gave me a few hard kicks....I joked about her liking sweets. Saturday came and went and by Sunday afternoon, I started to become a little uneasy about the fact that I had felt no movement from her. Sunday night I didn't sleep well. Monday morning I called my OB's office and I made an appointment as the nurse on the other end of the phone said, "to ease my mind." 

Nolan met me at the doctor's office and we went in holding hands. I can remember nervously looking at him and holding his hand for comfort in the waiting room. 

We were called back and a the nurse couldn't find a heartbeat. She said not to worry, that they baby was probably just turned funny. I could see the worry in her own eyes, no matter how hard she tried to hide it. 

A doctor came in with an ultrasound machine that looked like it was a billion years old. She hooked it up and again, found no heartbeat. Again, we were told that they would need to take a look another ultrasound machine before they could confirm anything. As we were walking over to the ultrasound room, I remember trying not to cry, trying to hold myself together. The doctor was talking about how the machine she just used is old and sometimes not as clear, so we shouldn't give up hope. Hope was gone. I already knew my baby girl was dead.

We went into the room....the room that just a few weeks ago delivered the happy news that we would be having another girl....the room that confirmed our pregnancy. This time the news would not be happy. This time we would see our little girl on the monitor, but she would not be wiggling. This time we would not see or hear her little heart beating. 

That night we went back to the hospital to be induced. After about 22 hours of labor Violet Fletcher Lichti was born silent. She weighed 1 lb 10 oz. She had little wisps of blonde hair. She had long finger and big feet. We admired her just as we would if she would have been born screaming and kicking. 

The next few weeks resulted in many sleepless night, numerous tests, lots of crying, and finding a new normal for our family. We found out the results to Violet's tests and she had a chromosome problem that was incompatible with a normal life. Nolan and I also had testing done to see if there were any issues with our genetic makeup that might make cause something like this to happen again. Our tests came back normal. What happened to Violet was a one in a million thing....just some fluke. Some fluke that ripped my heart out and stomped on it. 

The doctors were actually baffled by the fact that I was pregnant with Violet for over 26 weeks. Most babies with her genetic make up would have been miscarried in the early weeks of pregnancy. We didn't have any genetic testing when I was pregnant and there were no signs that she had any issues at our 20 week ultrasound. She was just measuring a little bit small...not a big deal. It was supposed to be nothing to worry about, right?

Many may think that because we had children since Violet's death that we are somehow "over it." Maybe they think that we have moved on. That is just simply not true. I ache everyday to hold her. I think about how fun it would be to see her playing with her sisters. I would love to feel her little arms wrapped around my neck giving me a hug. 

For parents who have lost a child, the pain never goes away. It's always there. There is always a hole in your heart. There is always someone missing at the dinner table. Birthday parties hold a little bitterness in the celebration because while you are celebrating the birth of one child, you know that you will never get to throw a party for your child in heaven. Not only do you miss birthdays, but first steps, starting school, best friends, first dates, plays, soccer games, graduation, heading off to college, weddings, and babies. There is always the "what might have beens" that go through your mind. 

Violet brought me to my lowest point....it couldn't get much worse. It was a nightmare. I feel like if I just let myself dwell in my sadness over her loss, that would do nothing to honor her. The best way for me to honor Violet is to be happy, to help others and to keep her memory alive.