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Liz's Story


Friday, November 3rd, 2017: I was 38w6d pregnant with our daughter. My C Section was scheduled for Monday the 6th. I woke up that Friday, started the day with our toddler, and was aware that I hadn't felt her moving yet. I ate, drank cold water, cleaned some of the house, all to hopefully rouse her. I was thinking that she was crowded in my belly, so she probably couldn't move much. As the day progressed, I still didn't feel movement and became concerned. I told my husband (at work) what was going on and that I'd keep him updated, and that I was going to lay down during our son's nap time to see if that helped. It didn't and at that point, I was panicking. I called him back and told him I needed him home so we could go to labor and delivery. We went to the closest hospital, got checked in at L&D, and they set us up in a room. The first two nurses we had checked for her heartbeat with the fetal doppler and couldn't find anything. It was the most unforgettable silence. They didn't say anything other than they had called and ultrasound tech to come to the room. The tech did her search and said nothing, then left the room. I started crying and told my husband I didn't have a good feeling. One of the nurses came in and saw I was already crying, so she thought we had already been told, but we told her no one said anything. She sat with us and told us they couldn't find her heartbeat and that our precious unicorn girl was gone. We have never been so hurt, heartbroken, angry, or confused. The hospital has been in contact with my doctor at a nearby primary care building, and he gave us the option of doing the C Section at tthat hospital the next morning, or keeping our appointment with him at his hospital on Monday like planned. We chose the latter, because we were assured it would be safe for my body to do so. At first, the decision was strange to me... Knowing our baby was still there but she really wasn't. I eventually came around to realize I got to keep her close to me for that extra three days. Over the weekend, I had contacted an infant loss photographer to get some pictures for us to treasure. Monday, we were in the hospital. The C Section was done and we got to spend 7 love filled hours with her, and all of our kids' grandparents were with us as well. That evening, my husband and I had decided that it was time to let her go. She was becoming too frail, too cold, too limp and I couldn't handle it anymore. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep looking at her as her color faded, even though I never wanted to let her go. The next day, my doctor came to check on me and gave his theory as to what caused her death. He said that as he delivered her, he noticed that her end of the umbilical cord was purple and swollen from where it connected to her. The blood flow has been cut off somehow, perhaps because she was running out of room and had leaned against it. She was healthy at my last checkup which was on Halloween, and all the tests I had done postpartum indicated I am healthy too. It's been awful to think that I had no idea, no gut feeling and no way to save her. It is something I have, and will always have, a struggle with

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