On Saturday, September 4th...I had bleeding that was quite significant. Steve rushed me to the Emergency room. The doctors checked my cervix and thankfully it was closed and blood was not coming from it. The ultrasound revealed a perfectly healthy baby and no apparent loss of fluid. The baby was measuring a bit small, so they figured that maybe I was off on my due date and told me I was only about 16 weeks along. The diagnosis was a subchorionic hemorrhage. This happens in about 9% of pregnancies and if the hemorrhage is small, most women go on to have healthy deliveries. So they sent us home and on bedrest until we could visit with a High Rish OBGYN and do a more advanced ultra sound. We felt good and reassured that things would be fine.
Well, my appointment was Friday, September 10th and the High Risk Doctors took a look at me and measured the baby only at just barely 16 weeks again. This put fear in my mind as I knew I had to be at least 18 weeks along and that our little guy wasn't getting what he needed from the placenta. Then they took a look at the hemorrhage and informed me that it was indeed a subchorionic hemorrhage, but that it was very severe. They told us there was no way of knowing what would happen and told us that if it were to heal, things might be okay. They also said that if the blood continues to irritate the uterus, then I would cramp and contract and miscarriage would be inevitable. They would not give me anything to prevent a miscarriage because my pregnancy was under 20 weeks. I knew that with the size of my baby and with the mass of blood on the ultra sound screen that things might not be okay. I was so distraught and my intuitions were uneasy, emotional and deeply concerned. I became confused when the doctor told me that I simply needed to take it easy and didn't really need to be on bedrest. Steve and I both just felt helpless, there wasn't any advice or anything we could really do....other than to "take it easy."
Well, Steve and I were both exhausted after being in Dr. office for 3 hours, yep 3 hours. We came home, got our 4 rambunctious little boys fed and tucked in, and then my contractions began. Steve kept telling me to lay down, but the contractions were so painful that I felt an urge to move and walk them out....but they just kept coming. I did lay down from 7:00pm until we went into bed, and the contractions were just coming and going all through the evening.
We went into bed around midnight and that is when the contractions became very strong and frequent. I wanted an epidural because the pains and cramping were so intense and I thought for sure I would pass out. Contractions got worse and we knew that there was no hope. We called the doctor on call around 2:00 and got her voicemail. Then despite all of our efforts to hold on and keep our baby safe, our baby was born. I delivered our son still-born at about 2:45am. Steve and I felt so alone, so confused about what to do next, and in complete shock. The pain had subsided and I could finally breathe. I was exhausted and slowly sat down on my bed as I watched my husband weep as he looked at our still-born son. The phone rang, it was the doctor. Too late. She instructed us to come into Labor and Delivery and bring our baby. My sweet little sister Lindsey rushed over around 3:00am to stay with our sleeping boys.
The hospital experience was very much surreal. I do remember everything, but I don't like to remember it. Steve and I were both very much in shock and seemed numb the entire time. We didn't say much other than "I love you." We held hands and cried and cried. The nursing staff washed our baby and put a tiny little blue hat on his head and wrapped him up in the littlest blanket. They asked if we wanted to hold him. We both felt hesitant. Just less than 24 hours ago the doctors told us that if the baby was under 20 weeks, that it was just too small to save...Now they were treating him like a newborn baby and it felt very confusing and upsetting. We did hold him. I am grateful now that I did. He was very small, five and a half inches. He was perfect. Perfectly proportioned, perfect fingers and toes, most adorable little 'Christensen' nose just like his brothers, and as loved and cherished as any of my other babies. The love was strong and it hurt so much. We didn't spend longer than ten minutes holding him. The gentle nurse took him and made molds of his tiny feet and took some pictures of him for us. What heartache. I had just experienced birth and death in one surprising experience in which I was not in the least bit prepared for. I kept thinking, "The doctor's outlook was positive, it was good. How did we end up this way?"
For whatever reason, and we'll never know why, it happened. Our fifth little boy is not ours to have on this Earth. He is however with us, and he always will be. He will forever be mine and he will be in my every prayer, every wish, every temple session's warmest thoughts, every hope, and he has given me faith in and for the next life....faith to move mountains. I will have him one day. And in the meantime, I will ask my Heavenly Father to hug and kiss him every day until then...
I love you Miles...
Miles Stephen Christensen
September 11th, 2010.
2oz 51/2 inches
2oz 51/2 inches