Mom to Aaden
Even when I was a young girl, I knew I wanted to be a mother one day. As a teenager, while all my other friends were saying they never wanted kids, I was the one who said that I couldn’t wait to have kids one day. It didn’t plan on it being so soon though. When I was 18, I got pregnant by a man who I knew from the beginning wouldn’t be there for me or the baby.
I knew him well, although he wasn’t my boyfriend. Even though I knew my baby probably wasn’t going to have a daddy, I loved my baby from the very beginning of my pregnancy. I realized that it was going to be hard. It’s not easy for a single mom these days, especially when you’re only 18. But I was determined that I was going to give my child a GREAT life, regardless. So I went out looking for a job, and got ready to be a mother. My family was really there for me, as well as my friends. They got me a lot of stuff that I was going to need, they went with me to my doctor appointments, or anything else I may have needed. I was very blessed to have such a wonderful family and friends. As I had already expected, the baby’s father wasn’t around much. He was pretty wishy-washy about the whole thing. I was lucky to see or hear from him a couple times a month. He was constantly changing his mind about it, one day he would say the baby was his and talk about everything he was going to do, and the next time I seen him he’d call me a whore and say it wasn’t his. It hurt me a lot, I loved my baby more than anything in this world, and I hated that it was going to have to grow up without a father. Or with one who didn’t really give two cents about him. So the more he pulled away, the more determined I was to give my baby as much love as I knew I would.
It wasn’t long before I started feeling a little twitching inside my belly. Automatically I knew what it was. My baby moving around and kicking! There’s not much more of a wonderful feeling in this world! I loved feeling the life inside of my womb, and watching little lumps rise up on my belly. I couldn’t be more happier than I was when I was watching and feeling my baby. Not long after that, I got the ultrasound to determine the sex. IT WAS A BOY! I was so excited. I started getting ready for having a lil boy as soon as I found out. Getting clothes and other gear that I needed to know the sex before I could get them. I decided on a name, Aaden.
Two weeks after I found out I was having a boy, I noticed that I wasn’t feeling him kick and move around as much. I figured it was nothing, and I had a doctor appointment in a couple days so I just waited until then. When I told the doctor of my worries, she told me it was probably not a problem since it was so early on in the pregnancy. She then proceded to check the heartbeat, as she always did at check-ups. But she couldn’t find it. I knew something was wrong. She tried to act as if it was probably nothing and got me some orange juice to drink to “wake him up” because he was probably just sleeping. 10 minutes later though, there was still no heartbeat. She sent me down to the hospital to get an ultrasound. Although she still tried to sound hopeful, I just knew that it wasn’t going to be good news. I started crying before I even got to the hospital. Of course, the ultrasound proved my worst fears to be true. My son was dead. I was devestated, I wept frantically.
4 days later, after a hard, mournful weekend full of tears, I arrived at the hospital at 6 a.m. to be induced. I had so long looked forward to the day I went to the hospital to give birth to my son. But not under these circumstances. I once again made them check with another ultrasound to be sure there was no mistake before I would take any medications. But still, there was no change. My son was dead, the doctor said, and there was no doubt about it. Laying in the hospital bed, unable to move my lower body from the epidural, I could hear the heart monitor in the room next to me, picking up the babies heartbeat. It was so loud and clear, it was like torture. For my detecter was only picking up slight contractions, there was no heartbeat there. I cried a lot..and I kept the tv loud. I couldn’t believe I was here, and my son was dead.
At about 6 a.m. tuesday, I started to feel pressure. I told the nurse, and she checked me, then told me that it was time because she could feel the foot. As soon as she said that, I started crying hysterically. I felt like I was losing my mind. I was so scared! Scared of giving birth, but most of all, scared to push my son out. Once his body left mine, he was going to be gone forever. Never to be felt again. At 6:23 am, after being in labor for 22 hours, I gave birth to my 14 oz, 12 in stillborn son. The doctor then noticed what he believes to be the cause of my sons death: kinks in the umbilical cord. I didn’t hold him, I thought I would die if I held my son dead. I wanted to look into his eyes alive and hear him cry! Feel his heart beat! But I wouldn’t be able too. I wish so bad now, that I had. For I will never be able to hold my son on this Earth, not until I get to Heaven will I hold my beautiful baby. The hospital took pictures of him and gave them to me before they put him in his casket. My beautiful, perfect little boy. His skin was still red, and his eyes were closed. My mother, sister, and best friend all went and seen him. In the picture you cannot tell, but they told me he had the slightest bit of blonde hair. I cannot wait to see his beautiful face in Heaven one day.
The next day, I left the hospital. Aaden’s father never showed up at the hospital, and he wouldn’t show up at the funeral either. I went straight home, where I had many cards and things from people. Then i went to my sons funeral. I couldn’t keep myself from bawling as the preacher spoke, and my aunt sang. It was a beautiful day, up on the mountain where my family cemetary is. But it was a cloudy day in my heart. With family and friends around me, my best friend held my hand as they lowered my sons casket into the ground. As they lowered it down, all I could think was, “there goes my life.” I never thought at the age of 18 I would have a son and bury my son all in the same year.
I cried myself to sleep for months afterwards, praying for someone to talk to. I had so many people, family & friends, that would’ve loved to listen, but I didn’t want them to know that I wasn’t okay. Finally quite a few months later, I found God. I got saved, knowing I would be wiht Aaden in Heaven one day. God sent me that person to talk to. I am now as happy as I’ve been in the nearly two years since I lost my son. I’m in love with Jesus and with my boyfriend. As happy as I am, I still miss Aaden and think about him EVERY day. I write him letters occasionally, and sometimes I still have those days where I just cry, because I miss him so much. But at least I know I have someone very special waiting for me in the sky.
Randy blogs at http://sleepingbabyfootprints.blogspot.com/
You can contact her at email@example.com