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Mother of Sarraine Adaire Huffman
Las Vegas, NV
It was Sunday, February 18 2018. I found out that my boyfriend and I, after 8 years together, were expecting our first baby. We were of course very excited. We both wanted a boy but just couldn’t wait to find out who our little bean would grow up to be. April 16th we had our ultrasound done and off we went to our gender reveal. Our close friend set everything up for us and my boyfriend shot at a little box and there it was, pink powder everywhere. A girl! My beautiful baby girl. I was excited, I get to play dress up again! My pregnancy was great, except for the gestational diabetes. We had monitoring twice a week at a high risk center. Everything was looking good, her heart rate was always so great. She was active, my little kicker. We had an ultrasound on a Tuesday and monitoring again on Thursday. As always everything was fine. So I thought.

Saturday came around and I felt her little kicks and hiccups right before I went to bed. Sunday morning I woke up and felt like something was wrong. I hadn’t felt her kick yet and that wasn’t normal. I had my boyfriend drop me off at the closest hospital on his way to work. They gave me an ultrasound and the doctor came in and said good news everything looks great and her heart rate was normal. He recommended that I get some more monitoring done, just to be sure. I thought since everything looked good I’m just being paranoid like always so I went home and planned to see my OB first thing in the morning. I called her and told her I still hadn’t felt her move and she told me to wait till my appointment the following day but I didn’t feel comfortable waiting so we went to the hospital that we were going to deliver at. They laid me down on the bed and the nurse kept moving the wand around, looking for her heart beat. We finally heard a heart beat and I felt relieved until she said it was my heart beat that we were hearing. They brought the ultrasound machine in and the doctor looked back at me and said, “I’m so sorry.” Staring at the machine I could see that her little flutter was gone. How? Less than 24 hours ago, she was here! She would have been here in just two weeks. She was almost here. How? Why? I looked over at my boyfriend and he was in tears. I couldn’t cry. I sat there looking at him crying and all I could think was why aren’t you crying! What’s wrong with you! They put us in a private room and I called my mom. “She’s gone! She’s gone, mom.” Then they came, the tears. I was in shock and trying to process everything.  I couldn’t understand and still can’t understand why this happened to us.  They asked me what I wanted to do and I chose to be induced right away. I couldn’t imagine carrying my baby around knowing that she was gone. Then it hit me, how was I going to give birth knowing that there would be no cry waiting for me at the end.

I was induced on that day 9-10, the worst day of my life. We had a vaginal birth with no epidural and on 09-12-2018 at 2:27 am Sarraine Adaire Huffman was born. She was 5 pounds 5 oz and 18 inches long. My perfect beautiful baby girl. Besides her daddies dark hair, she looked just like me. My mini. I held her for a little while, admiring how beautiful she was. Oh so so beautiful. Telling her how sorry I was and how much I love her. She had passed from a nuchal cord. Wrapped around her neck x3 and around her body once. Giving her to my nurse Angie was one of the hardest things I’ll ever have to do. I left the hospital that day. No need to be there if she wasn’t there. The funeral home had picked her up already. I left that hospital with a box. So unfair. Mother’s leave everyday with their crying babies. I’d give anything to hear her cries, her laugh and see her smile. All of the milestones that I’ll never get to enjoy. That day, instead of leaving with a happy smiling baby, I was leaving with a box. How grateful I am for that box today. It carries the pictures that my nurse took of her and the blanket, sweater and hat she was wearing. Along with a lock of hair that I got from the funeral home. The things that are as close to her as I can get. My sister and her husband bought us a teddy bear that plays her heart beat. It’s from her first ultrasound, the first time we heard her little heart beating. I am so so so grateful for this. Another one of the hardest things I had to go through was being at the funeral home and that guy telling me that I couldn’t hold my child. Those words will stick with me forever. Again so unfair. I got to see her and kiss her and tell her that I loved her for the last time, again walking out of that little room and leaving my everything behind. I have her ashes next to my bed and some pictures that I kiss any time I get the chance. We went to our follow up with my OB and the nurse asked if I was breastfeeding, how painful that was having to say that I had lost her and last week we went into the store that I work for and a lady asked if I had her, twisting that knife that’s stuck so deep in my heart. Today [at time of writing] is her due date and one month since she’s been gone. I have this empty feeling that I’m sure will never go away. This guilt that I will live with for the rest of my life. I wish oh how I wish I could go back, why wasn’t I more concerned why didn’t I just go for more monitoring that night. I know if I had she would still be here with me, where she belongs. I don’t ask her to forgive me because I’ll never forgive myself. I’ll hold her in my heart forever. My sweet beautiful angel. I talk to her everyday and look for her in the sky and the trees. I know she’s here with me. Until we meet again, mommy’s sweet angel.

I’ll leave this poem that I found. I read it everyday and it brings me some comfort. Hoping that it might help bring someone else a little bit of comfort as well. Praying for you strong women who have walked in my shoes.
As I sit in heaven and watch you everyday. I try to let you know with signs, I never went away. I hear you when you’re laughing and watch you as you sleep. I even place my arms around you to calm you as you weep. I see you wish the days away, begging to have me home. So I try to send you signs, so you know you’re not alone. Don’t feel guilty that you have life that was denied to me. Heaven is truly beautiful, just you wait and see. So live your life, laugh again, enjoy yourself be free…Then I know with every breath you take, you’ll be taking one for me. – author unknown. 
Briana can be reached at nannalee05@gmail.com
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