When I was a college student, I was required to type a 17 page paper for my Pyschology class.
I deciced to write the following paper.
Dealing with the Loss of a Child
The thought of losing a child is one that is extremely hard to comprehend unless
you have been through it first hand. Unfortunately, my husband and I do have first
hand knowledge. We have been through two losses.
I first want to give a background of our story. Lewis and I met February 10, 1996.
We immediately felt a connection. We started dating, and we were practically
inseparable. We both were working two jobs each, and all of our spare time was
spent with each other. We decided to move in together two months later. I found
out that I was pregnant on May 16, 1996. I knew that this was not a normal
pregnancy. I was having an extreme amount of pain. I started spotting along with
the pain. I was horrified. Lewis took me to the Emergency Room on Saturday, May
18, 1996. Upon my examination, the doctor knew that I was indeed having a
miscarriage. I had a flood of emotions running through me. I had physical and
emotional pain, despair, shock, and many others. I only had two days to get used
to the idea that there was another life inside of me and suddenly there was none.
Lewis let me go through all of the different emotions and moods with a lot of
support. The thing that I needed the most was to be close to him.
About a month and a half after the miscarriage, I felt pregnant again. At first, I
thought that it was wishful thinking. I wanted the baby that I had lost, so I thought
that it was my subconscious playing tricks on me. I called my doctor to tell them
that I felt pregnant again. I had spoken with a nurse, and she was very concerned,
but told me to wait a few more weeks before taking a pregnancy test. I took the
pregnancy test the day after Lewis’ twenty-ninth birthday. The test immediately showed
positive. Again, I had been flooded with so many emotions running rapid, the main
one being fear. I kept asking myself, what if it happens again, is my body healed
enough? I knew that I needed to let Lewis know about the test. I contacted him at
work and let him know. He had mixed emotions as well.
I had a rough pregnancy, and I gained an enormous amount of weight due to
having pre-eclampsia. This scared me, but the doctor assured me that the baby
was healthy. I had several ultrasounds to watch my progress, as well as the baby’s.
Finally, on March 6, 1997 I was in full labor, and at 7:51 p.m. our son Joseph was
born. He was so beautiful. I finally had a little bit of peace after losing our first baby.
When Joseph was about eighteen months old, I longed for another baby. Lewis
and I had just bought a house, and we were doing rather well for ourselves. Lewis
did not really want another baby. He said that he had this strange feeling that
something would go wrong again. I soon put the thought of having another baby
aside. I was working full-time and Lewis was a truck driver. He was gone six days
at a time then home for two. I thought that maybe this would not be the best time for
us to have another baby anyway. Well, I guess that God had other plans for us. On
April 1, 1999, I found out that I was pregnant again. I was so happy. I immediately
called Lewis’ job so that they could get a message to him to call me. He called
back about an hour later, and I told him the news. He was completely in shock. I
was hoping that he did not think that I was playing an April Fools joke on him, but I
soon realized that he knew I was serious. Joseph had just turned two, so to me,
our children would be the perfect age difference.
I had found out that I was due on December 3, 1999.
The pregnancy was going well, and I started showing at around two and a half
months. I decided not to work during this pregnancy for a few reasons. First was
the fact that I worked two jobs while I was pregnant with Joseph, and it took too
much out of me. Secondly, I wanted to be at home with Joseph.
Everything was going well until my fifth month. I started to have very strong Braxton-
Hicks contractions. It seemed like I was at the hospital every other week. I started
feeling completely miserable. I had gained the perfect amount of weight, but I felt
huge. My stomach was huge and the weight of it started to play havoc on my hip
joints. At around the same time, I found out that we were having another boy. This
made Lewis and I so happy. During the ultrasound, when the technician told us that
it was another boy, Lewis and I gave each other a high-five. The technician
laughed and told us that was a first for her.
The last trimester of my pregnancy was painful. I was continuing to have an
enormous amount of hip pain along with the Braxton-Hicks contractions. I had a
regularly scheduled appointment on November 16, 1999. The doctor then sent me
to the hospital for a non-stress test to see how the baby was doing. My blood
pressure was up and the doctors just wanted to be safe. After being hooked up to
the monitor, the nurse discovered that I was contracting. I found this strange
because I did not feel them. I had worse Braxton-Hicks contractions. The nurse
called the doctor and he came to see if I was dilating. After he checked me, he
noted that I was four centimeters dilated, and he wanted to keep me at the hospital
for another hour to see if I would progress. I was not progressing much after an
hour, so he sent me home. I told him before I left that I would probably be back
within the next twenty-four hours.
Lewis was on the road, so I called his boss to let him know that I was having
contractions and that I was four centimeters dilated. He told me that he would get a
hold of Lewis and send him home. Since Lewis was on the road, I had made plans
with a good friend of mine to come get me when I went into labor. Margo had
called me the day of my appointment and I told her what I knew. She said that she
would be at work, but she had already made arrangements to leave if I called her.
It wasn’t two hours later that I called her to tell her my contractions were four
minutes apart. She then was on her way to get me. I then called Lewis’ boss again
to tell him that I was on my way back to the hospital. Upon arriving at the hospital, I
was again hooked up to the fetal monitor. I was indeed contracting. According to
my due date, I was two and a half weeks early, but still in the safe period for
delivery.
I was very anxious for Lewis to arrive, but I was very glad to have Margo there with
me. Margo stayed with me until about an hour after Lewis arrived. I was
progressing very slowly so she wanted to get some rest. She told me to call her if
anything was happening. I slept for what seemed like a couple of minutes, but
when I looked at the clock it was 5:00 am. A nurse came in to check on me and
told me that the doctor would be in shortly. I had not dilated much more throughout
the night, and I was getting frustrated. I was having constant contractions, but they
were not progressing the labor. Margo came back at around 7:00 am. I was
surprised to see her so early. Lewis and Margo were quite shocked at how calm I
was through the contractions. I felt them, but they were not as bad as the Braxton-
Hicks contractions. Judy, my one nurse, had mentioned that she thought that I
would have the baby by 3:00 pm. At 2:00 I told her that I thought that she was a little
off. At 2:15, I was 6 centimeters dilated. I asked for an epidural just in case I would
start having more pain. The doctor came in at 2:30 to break my water. No sooner
did he leave that I felt the urge to push. Lewis had just received the Chinese food
that I had him order in. (I did not want him to go somewhere else to eat in case I
was ready to push.) I said to Lewis, "Honey, I got to push." He calmly said, "Okay."
I said, "Honey, I really have to push. Go get a nurse." He immediately went out to
get a nurse. Judy came in to check on me and said that I was definitely ready to
start pushing. She went out to the hallway to get another nurse to call the doctor
back. The other nurse came in to assist. The doctor had gone out for lunch, never
thinking that I would be having the baby within twenty minutes of him leaving me.
Judy told me to go ahead and push to see how I would do. I pushed once, and the
baby was crowning already. She yelled for the other nurse to page the doctor
again. Judy told me to push one more time. As I was pushing, her and the other
nurse turned around to get some supplies. I did not have both feet in the stirrups
yet, and Aaron’s head was already out. She told me to push one more time, and
then Aaron made his entrance into the world. Judy and the other nurse were
wonderful; they delivered Aaron without the doctor being there. Aaron was born at
2:54 p.m. on Wednesday, November 17, 1999. At two and a half weeks early, he
weighed 7 pounds 15 ounces and was 20 and a half inches long. I was sitting
there admiring my new son when the doctor came in. He joked with me about not
waiting until he arrived. I told him it was not my idea to have the baby without the
doctor there.
Aaron was so beautiful. He looked just like Joseph did when he was born. The only
difference was that Aaron had a ton of hair. Aaron was so much calmer than
Joseph was too. Aaron seemed to be content. He was calm and angelic like. I
immediately started calling him my "Angel Baby."
My mom came to see us later that evening. She had Joseph with her. I was
worried about how Joseph would act around Aaron. Joseph was a very energetic
boy, but when he was around Aaron, he was so calm and sweet. He immediately
fell in love with his baby brother. Joseph could not give Aaron enough kisses.
Joseph called Aaron his "best friend baby brother."
I had noticed that evening that Aaron’s breathing was raspy. I asked a nurse about
it, and she said that it was probably from the amniotic fluid. I recalled that Joseph
had raspy breathing for a couple of days after he was born. I put the worrying in the
back of my mind and enjoyed my precious baby. After a few days, I noticed that
Aaron still had raspy breathing. I called the doctor’s office to make him an
appointment.
Aaron’s doctor’s appointment was exactly one week after he was born. The doctor
said that he probably had a upper respiratory infection. She did not give him any
medication because he was too young. She told me to keep a vaporizer in his
room and to aspirate him. I followed the instructions even though I thought that it
was strange not to give any medicine. I trusted my doctor, however. I did not have
the medical degree, she did.
After two weeks, Aaron was not any better. I made another appointment, and the
doctor told me the same thing as the previous time. This time I questioned whether
she was doing the right thing. I asked, "Should you run some tests or something?"
She told me that he just had a cold and would be fine. I called the doctor’s at least
once a week, sometimes more. He had a couple more appointments, but usually
they told me to keep aspirating him and to keep running the vaporizer in his room. I
started to get mad. I told them I was doing all of that, but nothing was helping.
Joseph turned three years old on March 6, 2000. Aaron had seemed to get a little
bit better, but Joseph got a cold. After Joseph got his cold, Aaron was starting to
sound awful. I called to make a doctor’s appointment. I wanted Aaron seen that
day. The secretary told me that our family doctor was on vacation, so we could not
bring Aaron in until the middle of the following week. I told her that I did not care if
he saw one of the other doctors in the office, I just wanted him seen. She argued
with me and told me that "it is preferred if infants see their regular doctor." I went
rounds with her to no avail. She told me that I could take him to the Emergency
Room. I asked her, "why should I take him to the "ER" when you are open and
there are other doctors there?" She gave me more of a run around, so I reluctantly
agreed to an appointment on Wednesday, March 15, 2000. I did not know that
Aaron was as sick as he was. We trusted our doctor’s medical degree and word
that it was just a cold. Aaron never got to go to that appointment. He passed away
in his sleep on Tuesday, March 14, 2000.
I had gone to an appointment early that morning, and Lewis found Aaron. I
received a call on my cell phone from my sister-in-law. She had asked me if I
heard from Lewis. I told her that I had been trying to get a hold of him and there
was no answer. She told me that Lewis had found Aaron not breathing and that I
needed to get to the hospital right away. I was about two miles from the hospital.
She offered to pick me up, but I declined. That was the longest two mile drive. I ran
into the Emergency Room, and asked about Aaron. They asked me who I was. I
replied, "I am his mother. Where is my son? Is he okay?" The nurse ushered me to
the quiet room. I knew this was not a good sign. My mother and grandmother are
nurses, so I know a little bit about how they react towards family members when it
is not good news. I never thought that I would hear the words I did when the doctor
arrived, however. I asked him, "How is my baby?" He said, "Please sit down." I
said, "No, tell how my baby is!" He said, "I am sorry, he passed away." I just
started crying uncontrollably, and kept yelling, "NO, NOT MY BABY!!!" Lewis
walked in a few minutes later. All I could do is hug him and cry. They asked us if we
wanted to see him. Of course I did, but what I wanted to know more is what
happened. Our family doctor kept telling us that he only had a cold, now he was
dead.
Soon there were so many people there. Lewis and I gave instructions
to the staff who we wanted to come back and when. The staff was great.
A couple of the nurses and the one doctor went to the gift shop and
bought Joseph a stuffed bear. The doctor also took pictures of us
holding Aaron and some with him by himself. A police officer and the
coroner showed up. We were told that it was routine when someone,
especially a child, is found non-responsive at home. We answered all of
their questions, and we were then told if the autopsy did not show
conclusively what happened, we would be under investigation. I knew
that they were just doing their job, but that was so hard to hear when you
just found out that your baby was gone. We gave them our full support
and told them to do what they had to do. We were not allowed to go
home, just in case they needed to investigate our home. We left the
hospital knowing that Aaron would be getting the autopsy. Before we left,
we told the staff what funeral home to contact and we also gave our cell
phone numbers. A few hours later the coroner called us back. He said
that they found out what the initial cause of death was. Aaron had an
enlarged thymus gland. I had never even heard of it. He explained what it
was and that it was five times the size that it should have been. It had cut
off Aaron’s airways and caused him to go into respiratory failure. We also
later found out that he also had Respiratory Syncytial Virus (RSV), as well
as aspiration pneumonia. Aaron’s funeral was held on the day he should
have turned four months. There were so many people there that the
funeral director had to bring in more chairs. He said that was one of the
biggest funerals that he ever had. Most of the people that came never got
to see Aaron. At the time, I was working at a hotel in Somerset. The
management and staff were awesome. The manager let us stay there,
along with a few out of town relatives. They gave me so much needed
time off. We had so much support from so many people. We got cards
from people that we did not even know that well. We did have a hard time
with some of our neighbors. They looked at us as if we had done
something to Aaron. That hurt more sometimes then the fact that he
passed away.
Life has been rough in the last almost two years since Aaron passed
away. We have gone through almost every emotion that you can think of.
I have dealt with the loss of our son differently than Lewis. In July of
2000, I decided to make a website in honor of Aaron. At first I did not
know where to start. I got assistance from a good friend of mine. What
started out as a small page honoring my son has now grown immensely.
Heavenly Promises I invited other parents
that have lost children to put a memorial to their child(ren) on one of the
areas of the site. I have learned how to make graphics. I now share those
graphics with others who want to build a memorial to their child. I was so
emotional while I was making Aaron’s page. There were many times that
I had to stop because I was crying so hard. Retelling Aaron’s story was
the hardest, and it still is. Through all of the tears, however, I realized that
it was a great source of therapy for me. I knew in my heart that I would
possibly help other grieving parents. That fact turned out to be so true. I
have received countless emails from other parents how Aaron’s site
somehow helped them. I have stayed in close contact with many of the
fellow grieving parents. They help me as much as I help them. That is
one of the reasons that I started an online support group called
"Circle of our AngelBabies" on Yahoo.
Currently, called "Choir of Angels."
I also belong to several other support clubs.
I started my club the day before what would have been Aaron’s first
birthday. I was having such a hard time dealing with his upcoming birthday
without him. Lewis and I planned a memorial birthday party for Aaron.
The only people that were there were, Lewis, my mom, Joseph, and me.
We got balloons and a birthday cake. We all wrote messages to Aaron,
and Joseph drew his baby brother a picture. We attached the messages
to the balloons and let them go. We lit a candle on the cake, sang "Happy
Birthday," and let Joseph blow out the candle. We took turns taking
pictures of the cake, and the balloons floating in the air towards Heaven. It
was such a tearful day, but honoring my son gave me an odd sense of
peace.
CONTINUED...
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