The Worst Day of my Life

I have only briefly mentioned Madison on my 'about me' part. It makes me feel guilty - like by not writing about her, I am not thinking about her. I know its not true - but it still causes my Mommy Guilt to come on full force.

So here, if anyone is reading, is everything there is to know about my Angel baby - Madison Kate.

Keith and I weren't trying for baby #2 by any means. On November 16th, when I saw those two lines show up on the First Response pregnancy test, I was stunned. Hello? Infertility for 3+ years? How could I possibly have an oops baby? Memories of my birthday, our hot tub, and I realized that yes, Jan, there is a Santa Claus. (oops wrong story).

After we were both shell-shocked, either way, we were happy. Em would have a sibling. A baby sister or brother, close to her in age. We could do this.

I had an ultrasound on January 10th and the baby looked great. Heartrate was 170 and looked like a baby - I was expecting it to still be blob-like. I was 11 weeks 4 days. My blood pressure had been giving us some issues and I had some WICKED morning sickness, but other than that, I was happily pregnant.

Fast forward to February. I had been sent to an OBGYN as my doctor didn't know how to treat the blood pressure. I did a huge amount of tests for the next month - blood at least twice a week, urine at the office (I was spilling protein already - +3 and +4), and a 24 hour urine collection. Nothing says fun like collecting your urine for 24 hours. One of my friends wanted to go out that day and I had to say, "I can't, I'm collecting my pee".

The song "I'm too sexy" just went through my head. Funny.

My results come back from my triple screen - baby's risk factor for Down Syndrome is raised to 1 in 62 (normal for my age etc would be 1 in 200). I am scheduled for ultrasound, genetics and an amnio in Vancouver at the end of February. (Vancouver is 800 kilometers away from here). My blood pressure is still high, I'm still spilling protein, and I'm praying for something to go right in this pregnancy.

Then came the worst day of my life so far. The trip to Vancouver.

Unbeknownst to me, my water broke on Feb. 25th as I slept. When I awoke to find wet sheets, I assumed (and I mean I absolutely believed this to be true) that I had peed the bed. I NEVER THOUGHT IT COULD BE MY WATER. Not once. I was 18 weeks, 2 days pregnant, and I figured my bladder got the best of me. Gross? Yes. Dire pregnancy emergency? No. In my defence, my water never broke with Em...I had a scheduled C-Section because she was breech. How was I to know? How I wish it WAS a simple pregnancy-induced incontinence.

Fast-forward to my trip to Vancouver later that day. I flew to Vancouver and went to the BC Women's Hospital for my ultrasound. I knew there was something wrong. The technician was having difficulty obtaining images, although what I saw seemed normal enough. We moved to a different machine, I got to pee twice, and then the hammer fell. Three people came into the room to say there was no amniotic fluid. That's when my heart skipped a whole lot of beats. From my obsessive reading, I KNEW this wasn't good. From the look on the Doctor's face, I KNEW this wasn't good. The Doctor wouldn't tell me anything except that I would see a Perintologist that afternoon to see if it was my water that broke. She didn't need to -my mind

was going to all the dark places.

I was sent upstairs to Genetics. I bawled through the entire meeting. Why were they asking me all these questions about our families? Did they not hear that I have no amniotic fluid? Didn't they know how bad that was? To be honest, I don't remember much of the appointment - just that I was surprised how young they were. One of them did give me a ray of hope by mentioning the AmnioPatch...where they can attempt to repatch the sack. I had assumed by this point that it was hopeless. This gave me hope.

I had lunch. I felt Maddie move. Just little tip-taps in my belly. Tip-tap Mommy, I'm still here. Don't be sad. Tip-Tap-Tip.

I met with the Perintologists, and they did a thorough examination. He took some swabs to check if it was my water that broke and went away for what seemed like forever. When he returned, and told me that it was my water that broke, I felt like the air was just sucked out of the examination room. It's been two months and typing that last sentence still makes me feel like I was punched in the gut.

I lost it. I couldn't get cell service in the hospital, and I needed to speak to Keith. I was alone in Vancouver and I was just told that my baby will die. That my labor needs to be induced. My daughter, Emerson, was at a sitter's for the very first time. In that moment, I have never felt so absolutely powerless, so absolutely, utterly alone.

I went outside to use my cell. There was a man whose wife just delivered their healthy baby girl an hour earlier. He was calling everyone he knew to tell them the happy news. I'm sorry Stranger Man, I thought horrible thoughts about you as I listened to you share your miracle, as I tried to see the numbers on my cell through my tears.

Luckily, Keith answered the phone at work. I couldn't even choke out a proper greeting. I was as close to hysterical as I've ever been. I tried to tell him but I couldn't get the words out. I tried to say something that could make him understand what had happened, and all I could muster was "Bad". I'm sure he couldn't understand what I was talking about, but knew that I was upset obviously.

We had a conversation, but I can't remember what, or if, I even said much. All I remember is I sat on a chair, between two newspaper boxes, and I was trying to calm down but I couldn't breathe. Hello? Hospital people? You may want to check on the hysterical woman about to lose it in front of the hospital. Hey cell phone guy? You must notice my obvious distress. Maybe go get some help? Nope - he's too busy phoning the 15th person since I started my breakdown. Oh, by the way, congrats buddy.

I made it back into the hospital. At some point, Keith and I ended our conversation, but I don't remember when or what was said. I text messaged my sister-in-law, and I called a cab to take me back to the airport to go home.

I broke down probably 1,937,200 more times while waiting for my plane. I cried when I thought about Emerson - and how she wasn't going to have a sibling after all. I cried when I saw a baby. I cried when I felt Maddie move. I cried when she didn't move. I cried in an airport full of people, and not ONE person asked if I was okay. Gotta love human kindness these days.

I made it home and I went straight to the bathroom. I had a bath. You aren't supposed to after your water breaks, but its not like there was a chance I was getting a healthy baby out of this deal.

Keith came upstairs and sat with me as I bathed. I bawled. I screamed at him. I told him horrible things like he had no clue how I was feeling, that he did not hurt like I hurt. All of that pain I felt, I took it out on him. I acted like a complete and utter bitch to him and he took it. He just sat there and took it with tears in his eyes. He got up and he said to me, "I hurt because you hurt."

I spent some time with Em before she went to bed, and I went to bed. I cried myself to sleep. I woke up at 4 am, and I cried again. The skin under my eyes burned from wiping my tears so much. And hey, the fun was just beginning. I still had to deliver! However, I'll leave that story for my next post.