Mother to Conner Timothy & Benjamin Michael
Born and lost on January 10, 2014
I look at pictures of myself while I was pregnant, just a short 5 months ago [at time of writing]. I can’t help but think that I was so young back then; I have hardly aged since the pictures were last taken, but my heart now bears the weight of what seems like a million losses. It took nearly two years for my husband and I to get pregnant. Our babies were the fruition of the emotional and physical turmoil of IVF, and they were taken from us. And yet, they were worth every single second of despair and frustration.
Our boys were born on January 10th, 2014, on a cold and bitter day. My husband drove me to the hospital on January 8th, while I was experiencing what I can only describe as “extremely mild cramping.” I thought for sure we would drive home two hours later, relieved that what I was experiencing were normal pregnancy symptoms. By the time I arrived at the hospital, I was 2 centimeters dilated. An hour later, I was fully dilated. An abrupt OB resident broke the news to me by telling me that she could “see the babies moving.” I was only 22 weeks pregnant.
I sobbed. I was too scared to touch my belly, afraid my touch would rupture my water. I refused an epidural until the following morning on the basis that it could very well break my water and force me to deliver right then and there. I laid in a hospital bed with contractions every 2-5 minutes, not prepared to say goodbye to my baby boys and trying to pretend like this was all a horrible dream. When it was apparent that my boys were coming, I finally agreed to an epidural. I began showing signs of infection, ranging from a high white cell count, elevated heart rate, low blood pressure, hot and cold flashes, and nausea.
I gave birth to my boys after a lost battle with Chorioamnionitis and a possible incompetent cervix. Conner and Benjamin came to me, swaddled and perfect. Conner looked just like me and Benjamin just like his daddy. We were blessed to have hours with them, when the nurses said we might only have minutes. They were so strong and so brave. They were incredible fighters. Benjamin’s hand always somehow found its way to his face, and Conner let out little sounds that sounded like hiccups. Each of them were baptized as soon as they were placed in my arms, by the same pastor who married my husband and I. They both passed quietly, Conner in my arms and Benjamin in Tim’s arms. They will forever be remembered. Everyday, we strive to be the kind of parents that they would be proud of. I am a better person because of them, and I will forever be indebted to them for making me a mother.