Emi’s Story – Part III


So we went over to the new doctor – Dr. L. He told us that I would require a c-section due to my placenta previa, but with this condition risks could go as high as an emergency hysterectomy due to severe bleeding. A walk in the park I thought. He ordered us to have one final sonogram, where once again I heard the millionth time all that was wrong with Emi and the fact that she did not have a shot in hell of living. Thank you very much. However, I must mention a very kind doctor who took his time to tell us all that was wrong so that we felt comfortalbe with our decision to end the pregnancy. He told us that he never felt comfortable recommending a termination, but that he felt we could make our decision at peace. Her heart was failing, and my placenta moved; we were cleared for a vaginal delivery the next day.

I woke the next morning and had a very somber breakfast prepared by hubby before heading to the hospital. Once there it took all the courage I had to say to the labor and delivery nurse in charge that I was there for an induction. I was lead to a single room where I got into bed and watched the clock tick by. My nurse for the next few hours intoduced her self (Susan?) and told me sympathetically that this would be the worst day of my life. I agreed and appreciated what she said. It helped strengthen my resolve. Dr. L. arrived shortly and removed the (seaweed sticks) that were placed in my cervix the night before to help with dialating. Next he applied the pitocin directly to my cervix and we waited. I soon started to vomit profusely, it seems I was supposed to be given an anti-nausea medication before the pitocin. Medication was given to releive the nausea. Once I started to feel contractions, an IV with morphine was placed in my hand.

The phone started to ring over and over in my room. So one was looking for a former patient, they must have called 5x. My very annoyed husbad and nurse answered each call. I found it to be so absolutely irritating. I kept thinking that the former patient probably walked out with her living baby. And here I was with nausea, painful contractions, a blood pressure cuff contantly tightening and beeping around my arm (drove me nuts), feeling cold and heavy due to the morphine, and of couse my baby was dying or already passed.

At one point I had the need for a bowel movement and being disobedient, I was not going to ‘go’ in bed. I tried to lift myself out of the bed but could not, I felt like my body was made of stone. Hubby helped me to the bathroom and made me leave the door slightly open incase I needed him. I was ready to leave the bathroom when suddenly a huge gush of blood came. The toilet was filled with blood and my legs and thighs were streaked. I quickly got into bed and we called the nurse. I was checked by her and then the doctor and I was told we were getting close.
At this point I urged my husband to go eat something, poor thing had been with me every step of the way. While gone I was checked again and the doctor told me I was very close. I think it was after 3pm. I thought these were probably my last few moments left with my baby. God knows what I told her, I was so pumped with morphine that I was falling asleep and only waking with strong contractions. I think I offered one more prayer and tried to prepare myself for my baby’s birth.

Maybe 20 minutes went by and my husband returned. I told him that doctor said ‘soon’. My current nurse’s shift was ending; she wished me well. A new nurse – Peggy was now on duty. The doctor and nurse entered a few minutes later and he gave me one more check. Ok, he said. Ok?, I questioned. “Yes, you are nearly 5 centimeters, it’s time”. My husband stood by my right side and held my hand. I was so scared now. The nurse told me to push, and I asked how. She told me to push as if I were having a bowel movement. The doctor’s hand was inside me now and I began to push. Throughout the day they were massaging my belly, I assume trying to get my baby into a more favorable position. Now this massaging intensified. This is when my mind spaced. I was now pleading with God. Bracing myself for a dead or barely living baby. Suddenly I felt something inside me –my God- it was my baby being guided through my birth canal by my doctor’s hand. I told my husband that the baby was coming, all he could do was nod his head and tell me to focus on him. I felt her body go through my own – it was so surreal. I asked God at that point to accept her in his kingdom and to give her all the love and care I could not. I asked Jesus to send his angels to guide her home to heaven. I begged that she would not know how much I suffered, but only to let her know of all my love. Her limp body was placed between my thighs slightly resting on my right thigh and I trembled.

It’s so quiet I thought. She is not crying. Not screaming. Not breathing, because she is dead.

The doctor went over to a table in the room to prepare I guess a basin for her and some syringes to take ‘samples’. My husband and I hugged and cried. The doctor returned and lifter her tiny to a blue basin. As he lifted the basin, I could make out a tiny head, arm, her hand and fingers. All I saw was her silhouette. I will forever remember that form, for as long as I live, I will. She was and is my first child after all.

Peggy asked if we wanted to hold her and we said no. (This is now something we increasingly struggle with). We were offered fingerprints and footprints which we wanted. We asked what the baby’s gender was. “A girl”, we were told. My husband just about died then. My sweet husband, he said: “If the baby would have been a boy, I know my boy would have said, ‘Don’t worry Dad, i’ll be ok. Take care of Mommy’. But my girl, my little girl…I could do nothing to save her.” As long as I live, I will never forget those words. We needed a name. My husband suggested my middle name – Emilia.

Afterward with much painful massaging my placenta was delivered, but not completely, which led to more bloodloss. I needed a D&C and when meeting the anesthesiologist, he congratulated me. No, she did not make it. He felt so awful he offered me an injection to ‘take the edge off’. I must have been that pathetic a sight, I thought. I joked (I actually joked!), and asked if it came in a shot glass! I was wheeled away to the operating room where he wanted to give me an epidural but I begged to be knocked out cold. I needed to escape. He conceeded, and as I drifted out of consiousness all I could think about was how badly I wanted to join my daughter.

When I came too Peggy was sitting beside me; she went to get my husband. I was still groggy. Peggy told me that she had lost a pregnancy suddenly at 22 weeks for no apparent reason. She also told me about losing her 6 year old son whom was run over by a car. She had two grown daughters. She gave me hope and courage to go on. She told me that I would go on to have another baby and that I would get through this with my husband that was obviously so sensitive and loving towards me. I will always appreciate that she confided all this in me.

I know that I was in a recovery room with other women. I was placed closest to the door. Large curtains separated us. The woman next to me, was just told that her baby weighed just over a pound and that she was in the NICU. The woman cried. I remembered understanding her pain, yet being envious of the fact that at least her baby still had a chance. In the distance I heard another woman being told to push…I heard nurses counting to ten…I heard a baby being born.

Later that night after midnight, I was wheeled out of the hospital on very strict orders. Honestly I just wanted to leave this place while they wanted to keep me overnight. They conceeded. I was off to start a new life. I would never be the same again.

I love you Emi. I am so glad I ha
you, if only for a time.


About Jessica Emilia

Mother, wife, grief survivor, dancer, yogi, feminine, baker, cook, lover, fighter, perfectly imperfect, optimistic, pessimistic, reader, writer, funny, sarcastic, compassionate, emphatic, sympatheric, HR Pro, anxious, confident, supernatural, hocus-pocus, friend, daughter and momma again...

3 responses »

  1. J I’m so sorry. Thank you for sharing Emi’s story with us. I can only imagine what you went through in those days of finding out about Emi’s condition and then having to birth your little girl. Your story reads with such dignity and love.I have many regrets after Jacob died. I did hold him, but still there are many, many things I wished I had done. We do what we are able to do at the time. I know how hard it is, but please try not to beat yourself up over the decisions you made. Even if you had held Emi there would be all the other things that you didn’t do going round your mind. I don’t think we would ever think we did the right things at the time. I don’t think it’s possible to comprehend the enormity of it in those hours of birthing our children. I certainly didn’t. Your writing gives testament to how much you love your daughter and I am sure during the time she spent with you that she knew how loved she was. Sending you and Emi my love, Your friend K x x x x

  2. Beautiful Curve- My heart is breaking for you all over again. That was a beautifully written post. I can barely type these words through the tears I am shedding for you and your beautiful Emi. I know we all wish we did things differently, but as Coggy said, we do what we are able to at a very difficult time. I hope you find the grace and strength to come to peace with this.

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