Mom to Aiden

April 10, 2011

Chicago, IL

I got those beautiful pink lines. Dark, pink, and very big positive in February of 2011. I took a second 5 minutes later just to me sure. And 4 more through out the night. They were all positive. I was so afraid to tell my BF, but so so so excited. All of those doctors who told me I would never get pregnant were wrong and I was going to be mommy after all. The only thing I have ever truly wanted out of life was to be someone’s mommy, and I thought my dream was really going to come true. It wasn’t planned, or expected, but it was certainly welcomed. All seemed to be going ok.

On March 4, I had my first appointment. Sure enough, another positive. I was 10.5 weeks at that point by LMP. I was so excited.

On March 18, I saw the OB. Ultrasound measured way behind (6 weeks 1 day when I should have been 13 weeks), but strong heart beat. Obviously something was off, but she said with the strong heart beat, we just couldn’t be sure.  I was told to return in 3 weeks.

On April 8, I went in. My BF was stuck in court all morning (he is a lawyer) so I had to go alone. I had no suspicion that anything could be wrong. I had no signs of symptoms of miscarriage and I still very much felt pregnant. I laid down for the ultrasound, and knew instantly something was wrong if she asked me if I had had any bleeding or cramping. She kept looking, but could never find what we were looking for, that precious heart beat. My baby had no heart beat. He had died.

I remember laying on that table wailing. I could not stop crying long enough to comprehend anything that was being said to me. I had blood taken, and a D&C scheduled, and somehow found my way into a cab to go home. I called BF on the way, and he met me. I cried for the next night, and day. Around 5 pm on 4/9 he decided we really needed to eat dinner. Well, more like I did, since I hadn’t eaten since Friday morning.

We walked to get dinner down the street, came home, ate, and then I had to go to the bathroom. Thats when the bleeding began. I got my coat on to walk to the drugstore to get pads, and made it about 20 steps down the street when the first wave of cramping hit me like a sledge hammer. It was horrible. I had to call him to come get me off the street. We called my OB, who told us to meet her at the hospital, as it sounded like I was miscarrying, and needed the D&C that night.

There was some mass confusion about where to take me at the hospital. People over 13 weeks are supposed to go up to labor and delivery, but my OB requested I be admitted to surgery to spare me the mental agony of being surrounded by pregnant women. They took me up to labor and delivery anyway, and the first thing I saw was a mother checking in to give birth, and a wall full of healthy smiling baby pictures. They couldn’t get me out of there fast enough. While we were waiting for a bed, they stuck us in some waiting room somewhere, with a mother and her screaming baby. I lost it completely.

Next thing I knew, we were in a room, and they were asking me all sorts of questions. I was in so much pain and crying so hard. They did an internal exam, then realized I had just eaten dinner. You can’t have surgery after eating dinner. My bleeding had stopped, but the pain hadn’t. And the ultrasound still showed a fully formed baby, so I definitely needed the D&C. They admitted me up to a floor, and after breaking down completely and telling the doctor I couldn’t deal with the contractions because every single one reminded me that my baby was dead, they gave me enough medicine to knock out an elephant. I didn’t fall asleep though. I just laid in bed and cried while my BF held me.

The next afternoon, after getting bumped many times and having to wait so long, they finally took me back. I cried harder and longer than I ever have in my life. As they put me to sleep, it was the worst moment of my life. Going to sleep pregnant and waking up not is horrible. I can’t even put it into words.

I laid on the couch for the next three weeks. I am a nanny. So I couldn’t fathom going to work and caring for someone else’s child when I couldn’t carry my own. Eventually I picked myself back up and got on with things. I still think about what might have been every day, but I am beginning to heal.  I have recently started a project REAL (Remembering Every Angel Lost) Hope that is helping me heal and give back to all of the people who helped me.  Every day is still a struggle and I will always wonder what might have been, but I know that my sweet baby is at peace and we will meet again some day.

Nikki blogs at

You can reach her at

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  1. I understand completely the pain and agony of being in labor and delivery…they asked me if I was ready to meet my baby! My husband had to put his hand over my mouth and explain the situation because I was about to scream at the lady and humiliate her (our son was born at 22 weeks…medical induced labor, he had a fatal birth defect and would eventually pass away before he was full term) I also woke up from that experience crying, I went out crying and woke up crying…and when I woke up in recovery there was another pregnant lady that had surgery too…only her baby was still alive and well and they had her fetal heart monitor turned up so the entire room could hear it. The chipper nurse asked if I needed anything and in not very nice words (I am pretty sure there was swearing) I told her to turn that monitor down so I couldn’t hear it because my baby was gone and I couldn’t deal with that! Sometimes they lack the empathy they need for people that have lost babies!

    I am so sorry for your loss!

  2. Here is my blog address…

  3. Nikki, I am so proud of you and how open you are being about the loss of Aiden. Being so vulnerable with your pain and sharing your story will surely help other women who are going through this, not to mention people who are experiencing other kinds of grief. I hope you continue to write about your journey. I look forward to seeing how you begin to heal. All my love to you.

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