Mom to Aiden Nevin
July 24, 2015
I am the mother of an angel, an angel named Aiden. Here is my story.
Aiden was my second pregnancy. My husband and I were already parents to our precious 4-year-old boy. While surprised by Aiden’s upcoming arrival, we weren’t any less excited. Our family was growing just as we always thought it would. I can still remember after all of those initial doctor appointments, I was still in such disbelief. My pregnancy progressed in textbook fashion, just as it did during my first, so what did we have to worry about? Our 4-year-old was beginning to blossom into a wonderful brother-to-be and my husband and I were watching days and weeks pass us by until Aiden would make his entrance into this world.
At 38 weeks pregnant, I started back to work after a small summer break when one day I noticed that Aiden wasn’t being his fiery self. His name literally means “little fire” or “fiery one.” Thoughts crossed my mind, but faded quickly. I went on throughout that evening with a small tinge of worry, but just tried my best to brush it off. When I awoke the next morning to get ready for work, I went on with my normal routine, but had still noticed that Aiden wasn’t moving about. I immediately called my doctor’s office and they told me to head up to Labor and Delivery just to get checked out. I awoke my husband and after getting our son off to family, we headed to the hospital. While that car ride was entirely silent, I still really had no sense of worry. When I arrived to Labor and Delivery, a nurse immediately set me up in a room and hooked me up to a monitor. She started searching for the “whoosh whoosh whoosh” sound that all moms know all too well and I would say “That’s him, right?” She would say “I think I’m just getting you.” Panic had settled in by now. I silently started praying and kept repeating the word “No” to myself. She then proceeded to say that she would have to go and get an ultrasound machine just to be sure. Any loss mom knows this procedure all too well. Another nurse came in and completed the ultrasound. She did say that of course they wouldn’t be able to tell us anything until a doctor was able to read the ultrasound, but I knew just from that ultrasound that he was gone; our Aiden was gone. No movement at all on that monitor; he was still. A short time later, a young doctor that I had never met before came in wearing a long white lab coat and had confirmed what I already knew. There was no heartbeat, Aiden was gone.
At this point, they discussed all my options with me and my family. Options that would have never crossed my mind before and they proceeded to induce me into labor. We started alerting family and close friends with phone calls and messages. You could hear the tears in their voices and in their words. Family started pouring in throughout the rest of that afternoon and evening. I was just so numb; no feelings and hardly any words. My body was shivering; shivering in July. I now know that my body was in shock. I had chosen to stop the induction process for the night and we would proceed with everything the next morning at a time of my choosing. While tossing and turning all night, I awoke semi-refreshed and then doom and dread immediately lingered over me. I didn’t want this process to last all day or even days. I prayed to God and Aiden too that they would see me through this process and start me on a path of grieving and healing. After only a few hours of active labor and a few pushes, my little angel had arrived. He was so angelic, so perfect. What could have happened? My wonderful primary care doctor took the time to come and talk with my family the day before and had explained that things can and do happen at this stage of pregnancy. Soon after he was born, one of the doctors had explained that he did have a significant blood clot in his umbilical cord. We did elect to have an autopsy completed prior to his funeral arrangements. After he was born, I got to hold him and so did my husband. I took my time kissing him as much as I could. Family came pouring in soon after and said their “Hello’s” and “Goodbyes” all at once. We were told that he could stay in our room for as long as we would like, but soon afterwards, after being placed in the warmer for pictures, his looks were changing so much already that I didn’t want to remember him like that. So, I kissed him one last time and said my final goodbye.
In the coming days and weeks, we were beyond blessed with the support of family, friends, co-workers, neighbors, strangers, etc. as we laid Aiden to rest. After a few months awaiting his autopsy results and being referred to a high-risk obstetrician, it has been discovered that I have a blood clotting condition known as Antiphospholipid Coagulation Syndrome, APS for short which lead to Aiden’s demise.
Not a day goes by that I don’t think about Aiden and the little person he would be becoming. I feel as though I am a shattered piece of pottery; carefully glued back together, but still missing a few shards. Time and a great support system have healed some wounds, but the entire universe could never heal them all. He was, is, and always will be my angel.
Mommy forever misses you Aiden Nevin. Until we meet again and spend all eternity in heaven together; sending you many X’s and O’s, X’s and O’s.