My husband, my friend and I left home around 9am for the hospital. When I got there, I was taken to the delivery room and set up as for a normal delivery. Another good friend arrived shortly afterwards. Thank goodness for these two special friends of mine, who were with me throughout the birth. My husband (a man of few words), was a mess and basically just sat on the side observing. His way of dealing with it. They gave me a drug to bring on the labour. I did not have epidurals for my previous 2 births and I obviously opted for an epidural for this one. In fact, they gave it to me almost as soon as the contractions started. I didn't feel much pain, but the labour took 8 hours, before the assistant nurse asked for my friend to call the midwife as she said the baby was about to come. I was so nervous for the outcome and the reason why he had died. I remember wishing and praying that he wasn't really dead and that I would hear them saying that he was alive, but of course that was not to be. He came out with relative ease and I remember my friends and the midwife telling me not to look at him at that moment. I then heard the midwife say "I think we have our answer". The cord was wrapped around his neck very tightly apparently and explains the reason for the shudder in the last movement that I ever felt from him. I describe everything in great detail in this blog, as I believe it is part of the healing process. They took him away to clean him up before bringing him to me and I remember my husband saying "it's o.k." but I replied that it wasn't o.k. I felt utter sadness and anger. At that point I really wanted to see him and hold him. I also remember thinking that now I would have to try to conceive all over again (which did not happen easily for me) and I would also need to convince my husband to allow me to have another baby.
They brought him to me in the cutest Moses weaved basket. He had a little blue hat on and was wrapped in a knitted blue blanket. They handed him to me and I held him like any other baby. He was absolutely perfect and looked just like my daughter. His lips for some reason were bright red and you could see the burn mark around his neck from the cord. I did not want to let him go. They asked me if I wanted him to sleep in the room with us that night, but I didn't. Later that evening, the pastor came around and asked if we wanted a memorial service for him. I am not a traditional and opted for a simple service right there in the hospital room surrounded by my husband, and 4 special friends....
I also chose not to have a traditional funeral for him, I am not big on funerals. I was given the option of allowing the hospital to take care of his remains. It was organized by a local funeral home who cremate the babies and when they have enough ashes, they put all the ashes into an urn and bury the urn under a tree in the graveyard.
When I was discharged, a perinatal loss nurse came to see me. She was wonderful. She gave me the most beautiful box with a hand-painted butterfly on it, it had been done by a mother who had also lost a stillborn. In the box, she put his little hat, a tuft of hair and his footprints. They also gave me the little blue blanket that he was wrapped in and the little teddy bear that he was holding.
I decided to go home with my good friend that had been in the birth with me, as I just couldn't face going home at that point.....
