I don’t remember walking from maternal fetal medicine to labor and delivery. I was in shock and denial, I couldn’t believe things got so bad so quickly. I didn’t feel anything anymore and I was numb.
At labor and delivery, we met Rachel, our first nurse. She was very special to us, she explained what was gonna happen, offered us supportive words and brought us some clothing options, beanies, blankets, diapers, stuffed animals and books for our little one. We picked plenty of items we liked, including a small white dress that she would wear at her funeral. There are no words to describe having to think about funeral arrangements before Abby was born, but there was at least something we had control over.
The induction started at 5:30 pm on September 30th. The first medication to dilate the cervix started to kick and the first contractions came. Every six hours they monitor the progress, after the first check there was only one centimeter, and a long way to go yet. The doctors increased the dose.
During that night I could hear the noise from other rooms where other moms were delivering, followed by crying babies. I knew that it wouldn’t be our case.
After one day at the hospital I developed a slight fever (101°F), high blood pressure and my feet were swollen, but dilatation hadn’t changed at all. They increased the dose again and the pain increased with it. Until that moment I haven’t had pain killers except for tylenol to lower the fever and a hot pack for my womb.
At 8:48 pm I asked for something stronger against the pain before it became unbearable, but I did not want it to be an epidural. Few minutes later, I broke water at 4 centimeters dilated and I knew Abby was coming soon. The pain with every contraction increased and the medicine they gave me lost all effect. At 10:27 pm the dilation was complete and I felt like pushing. They called the doctor and at 10:59 pm Abby was with us, weighing 2.05 lb and measuring 13.4 inches. I felt physically fine almost immediately, but emotionally I was crushed.
Unlike other rooms in the maternity floor, ours was in silence with a picture hanging from the door of a leaf with a drop of water, letting others know about our loss.
Once we held Abby in our arms, we felt complete. We saw her facial features, her little hands, we counted every finger and toe. Abby is perfect.
We wanted to bathe her, but were afraid of hurting her little body. We asked if Rachel was around to help us, her shift had ended a while ago and she was home, but still, she picked up the call and came back to the hospital for us. She bathed and dressed Abby for the first time, for which we will be eternally grateful. She also suggested a saline bath to help Abby’s skin. She told us another nurse would come to help us make some memories, take pictures and get footprints.
We spent that night with Abby. We hugged her, kissed her, sang her songs, we read some of her books and watched her to not forget any detail. We knew it was important to make the most of the time we had with her, since it would be our only time. Abby has her mom’s nose, chin and feet and her dad’s eyebrows. We built the prettiest memories of our daughter in the time we held her, but we knew our time was limited and soon we would have to let her go. During those moments it was only the three of us, and even when our room was silent, our love for Abby could be felt.
We will never forget her smell, nor her little face. Regardless of being physically with us for a short time, she will live in our hearts forever. Abby will always be our daughter, and we will always be her parents.