Waiting on Willow to make her safe arrival was the second hardest thing we had to do. When we found out we were expecting our second child last May we were so excited, scared and hopeful. The summer flew by and it was the happiest we had been since Berkley died. In September it was like the rug had been ripped out from under us. At our 20 week ultrasound they saw a few markers that were concerning to them and we had to do additional testing. We spent a week losing our minds. I literally stayed in bed for 3 days trying to search the internet. We were paralyzed by fear and upset thinking we never get a break in life. The end of the week we got a phone call telling us that the testing came back normal and Willow was healthy. We both felt a wave of relief but, at that point the pregnancy wasn’t the same.
I don’t know if it was the panic that changed it or the fact that I was getting farther along into my pregnancy. Approaching the point of loss with Berkley. We also had to get through the Fall. The season that stole our daughter. Every leaf changing brought me closer to the day that my daughter slipped away. I couldn’t believe how much a season can crush you and bring such intense pain rushing back. We made it through the month, the year marker of when she died and her birthday. It all sucked but, we did it.
We started weekly monitoring the first week in December. We had to go back to the room that they did the last ultrasound to confirm that Berkley died. Ever time we did the ultrasound I would just lay there tense, scared, and disconnected. I was scared it would be the last. She passed all of the ultrasounds except the third week. No movements or breathing for the whole 30 minutes. Watching that tech search for what she is looking for knowing things are off was terrifying. She had passed a NST scan right after she failed the first scan. We also had another ultrasound that evening to make sure she was okay and she passed right away.
Willow had hiccups every single day after around 30 weeks. She would have sometimes 7 episodes a day. I saw on several stillbirth resource websites and a doctor that specializes in researching cord issues stressed that hiccups should not be occurring this frequently or after 32 weeks. It could be a sign of the baby’s cord being compressed. So it felt like Willow also was going to die and no one would listen to me. Every day would start okay but, on the days where she was on her 5th or 6th episode of hiccups I would be beyond anxious. The hiccups made me lose my mind. It is so hard for me to explain the fear of losing a child. Something so innocent as hiccups to a mother that hasn’t lost a child sounds silly but, to a mother that has it’s a different story.
At the 20 week appointment we had set up a plan for induction at 37 or 38 weeks. Something that I was so relieved about. We were going to be able to have her delivered before the point of loss when Berkley died. Hell week, 39weeks. When that time came we drove back down to the Perinatoligist’s office for a meeting to schedule the amniocentesis to check Willow’s lung function. At that appointment we met with a different doctor, a doctor that didn’t agree with her partner’s plan. She was condescending, cold and made us feel horrible. I started to cry as she ripped our plan away from us. That was the first time I had cried at a doctors appointment ever. At the end of the meeting she called the other doctor that made the recommendation to see if she would proceed with the plan that they originally created 17weeks ago. Even though she stressed how much she disagreed and made us feel horrible. At this point we were questioning what we should do. We were so confused and upset.
We decided the day before the procedure was scheduled that we would do the procedure. My main doctor was confident in the procedure and we trust her more then anyone. The actually procedure wasn’t as bad as I would have thought. They stuck a needle and tube into my uterus to pull Willow’s amniotic fluid. They didn’t numb anything and I could feel the pressure of the tube. Whenever I took a breath I could feel a tube in there which caused me to panic. Besides that everything went great. We were told to go the hospital the next morning to be induced. We were still waiting on the test. There were supposed to be two tests. One that comes back within two hours and has higher false negative results then the second that was more reliable and took longer to receive the results.
We went to the hospital that Thursday morning and were told to head up to labor and delivery floor. They brought us to our room as we waited for the results I had a feeling it wasn’t going to happen that day. I was right but, I was okay with that. I was expecting the results to come back not mature since there is such a high rate of false negatives with that test. Her results were borderline so we were hoping that Monday we would be getting the results of the second test. The ones that the Perniatologist stressed to us are the reliable ones, the ones that don’t produce a lot of false negatives. I called to see if they had the results of the second test. I talked to a nurse that told me they never ran the second test… She read in the notes that they didn’t have the equipment to run that second test. The Perniatologist called back shortly just to let me know they didn’t run the second test because, the first one came back borderline. Once again with that office the plan or what was explained to us was changed.
It was heart wrenching and I didn’t know how I was going to mentally get though one more week. At this point we were so shut down emotional and disconnecting from everyone. We had an appointment set for the next Monday for the induction. Hell week, 39 weeks. The day her sister died, would end up being the day she was born.