No Screaming and Crying Baby
October 11 2011
After sobbing the entire way to the hospital, Nolan and I found the courage to go inside an go up to the maternity ward. Seems to me that there should be a different place to go if your baby has died. It's kind of like a slap in the face to walk into the maternity ward where babies are being born and families are happy. Nolan wasn't happy, I certainly wasn't happy. This was not the way things were supposed to be happening. I had made it past 12 weeks (the first 12 weeks is when you have the biggest risk of miscarriage), I saw my baby girl on the ultrasound moving all around at 20 weeks, at 24 weeks I had an OB appointment and heard her strong heartbeat. Everything was supposed to be fine, she was fine a few days ago. Why isn't she ok now at 26 1/2 weeks?
I started taking medication around 9pm to induce labor. Let me tell you that having a nurse put a pill behind your cervix is the worst pain that I have ever felt. Because your cervix isn't ready to go into labor, it's closed. So putting a pill behind it is awful. And then to have this repeated every few hours. Ugh. At least that night I had a sleeping pill and I hardly noticed the nurses administering the medication. The next morning, every time they had to do this I felt like they were hurting my baby. This wasn't supposed to be what happened. I knew in my head that my baby was gone and that this was the right thing to do, but it's just not what my heart felt. I wasn't ready to give up my pregnancy. I wished that there was something I could do to make it better. I wanted my baby girl to be healed. But I also knew that my wishes and wants could never be and that I had to continue through this process.
I don't really remember when contractions started. But like most labors, it went on for several hours. Sometime later I got an epidural. That helped. Then my OB broke my water. She told me that if I felt anything that the baby could just be delivered with a large contraction, that I might not even have to push. Just a few minutes after my water broke, I let the nurse know that I could feel that the baby had dropped. It was time to start delivering my dead child.
After a few pushes and much wailing and sobbing, she was here. This delivery was worse than my experience with Georgia. Although I had physical pain with Georgia, the emotional pain I had this time around was so much worse. My heart hurt.
Violet Fletcher Lichti was brought into the world stillborn. Her name came from the nickname her sister gave her, Rainbow. Since Violet is a color in the rainbow, it just seemed to fit. I was frightened to look at her but at the same time all I wanted to do was hold her an cradle her. I wanted her to know that I will always love her, even if she can't be with us on earth.
It's suggested that you do all the things that you would normally do after a delivery of your child. Dad cuts the cord, baby has it's first bath, you dress your baby. I understand that all of those things help and I'm so glad that we did all of those things. It puts a value on her life for us, that it wasn't just something that happened. She is our daughter no matter what and we are missing out on so much by not having her here with us that it is great to have those memories. But at the same time, it's weird. Nolan said that there was no satisfaction in cutting the cord because there was no screaming, crying baby in the room. Taking photos (which I'm glad that we have them) seemed weird because what are you supposed to do, smile. There is nothing to smile about. All you want to do is sob, but that doesn't make for a good photo either. So I just kept staring a Violet.
Nolan and I were surround by our families (my parents, Nolan's mom, my brother and his wife and daughters), our pastor, very close friends who are like family and Georgia.
We wanted everyone who wanted to see and hold Violet to be given the chance to do so. We didn't want to be private and alone. That's not how her birth would have been if she had been alive, so why should it be any different now. We needed to lean on these people now more than ever.
We had a blessing for Violet, done by our pastor, with our friends and family in the room. We wanted to have these few memories to hold onto. We knew that there would be days when we were missing our baby girl and we wanted to have some good things to remember, not just the pain of not having her here with us.
We took turns holding her, touching her and checking out her tiny fingers and toes. The things you would normally do.
That night after everyone left, Nolan and I took turns holding her. When one of us would break down the other one would be strong. It was nice to have that balance. I slept holding Violet most of the night. I just could not put her down. There is nothing worse than holding your dead baby that is packed in ice. But that's all I wanted to do. I wanted to hold her as much as I could because I knew that tomorrow I would have to leave her and how do you leave your baby? How do you let the nurses take her and know that you will never see her face on this earth again? How do you walk out those hospital doors empty handed?
After sobbing the entire way to the hospital, Nolan and I found the courage to go inside an go up to the maternity ward. Seems to me that there should be a different place to go if your baby has died. It's kind of like a slap in the face to walk into the maternity ward where babies are being born and families are happy. Nolan wasn't happy, I certainly wasn't happy. This was not the way things were supposed to be happening. I had made it past 12 weeks (the first 12 weeks is when you have the biggest risk of miscarriage), I saw my baby girl on the ultrasound moving all around at 20 weeks, at 24 weeks I had an OB appointment and heard her strong heartbeat. Everything was supposed to be fine, she was fine a few days ago. Why isn't she ok now at 26 1/2 weeks?
I started taking medication around 9pm to induce labor. Let me tell you that having a nurse put a pill behind your cervix is the worst pain that I have ever felt. Because your cervix isn't ready to go into labor, it's closed. So putting a pill behind it is awful. And then to have this repeated every few hours. Ugh. At least that night I had a sleeping pill and I hardly noticed the nurses administering the medication. The next morning, every time they had to do this I felt like they were hurting my baby. This wasn't supposed to be what happened. I knew in my head that my baby was gone and that this was the right thing to do, but it's just not what my heart felt. I wasn't ready to give up my pregnancy. I wished that there was something I could do to make it better. I wanted my baby girl to be healed. But I also knew that my wishes and wants could never be and that I had to continue through this process.
I don't really remember when contractions started. But like most labors, it went on for several hours. Sometime later I got an epidural. That helped. Then my OB broke my water. She told me that if I felt anything that the baby could just be delivered with a large contraction, that I might not even have to push. Just a few minutes after my water broke, I let the nurse know that I could feel that the baby had dropped. It was time to start delivering my dead child.
After a few pushes and much wailing and sobbing, she was here. This delivery was worse than my experience with Georgia. Although I had physical pain with Georgia, the emotional pain I had this time around was so much worse. My heart hurt.
Violet Fletcher Lichti was brought into the world stillborn. Her name came from the nickname her sister gave her, Rainbow. Since Violet is a color in the rainbow, it just seemed to fit. I was frightened to look at her but at the same time all I wanted to do was hold her an cradle her. I wanted her to know that I will always love her, even if she can't be with us on earth.
It's suggested that you do all the things that you would normally do after a delivery of your child. Dad cuts the cord, baby has it's first bath, you dress your baby. I understand that all of those things help and I'm so glad that we did all of those things. It puts a value on her life for us, that it wasn't just something that happened. She is our daughter no matter what and we are missing out on so much by not having her here with us that it is great to have those memories. But at the same time, it's weird. Nolan said that there was no satisfaction in cutting the cord because there was no screaming, crying baby in the room. Taking photos (which I'm glad that we have them) seemed weird because what are you supposed to do, smile. There is nothing to smile about. All you want to do is sob, but that doesn't make for a good photo either. So I just kept staring a Violet.
Nolan and I were surround by our families (my parents, Nolan's mom, my brother and his wife and daughters), our pastor, very close friends who are like family and Georgia.
We wanted everyone who wanted to see and hold Violet to be given the chance to do so. We didn't want to be private and alone. That's not how her birth would have been if she had been alive, so why should it be any different now. We needed to lean on these people now more than ever.
We had a blessing for Violet, done by our pastor, with our friends and family in the room. We wanted to have these few memories to hold onto. We knew that there would be days when we were missing our baby girl and we wanted to have some good things to remember, not just the pain of not having her here with us.
We took turns holding her, touching her and checking out her tiny fingers and toes. The things you would normally do.
That night after everyone left, Nolan and I took turns holding her. When one of us would break down the other one would be strong. It was nice to have that balance. I slept holding Violet most of the night. I just could not put her down. There is nothing worse than holding your dead baby that is packed in ice. But that's all I wanted to do. I wanted to hold her as much as I could because I knew that tomorrow I would have to leave her and how do you leave your baby? How do you let the nurses take her and know that you will never see her face on this earth again? How do you walk out those hospital doors empty handed?
I tried to post a comment here yesterday, but I don't think it worked. Sorry if this is duplicate... It's good to hear more of the story, I'm glad you are willing to share. As I read this, it struck me that I'm 26 1/2 weeks right now...hard to imagine going through what you went through. I'm so glad you and Nolan had each other to lean on. Love you both.
ReplyDeleteNope, no duplicate! I'm glad that people are interested in reading about Violet. I want her to be real to everyone, not just me and Nolan. I can't believe that you are 26 1/2 weeks....it seems like it was just Thanksgiving and you were sharing your good news. I'm glad you are reading this!
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