The story of us - Our life and times with Joshua

Our life and times with Joshua

(note: not only is this very long, but it is very emotional ,both for me to have written, but probably also to read. Maybe not a good read for at work ,etc.)

“You can try again”

Well, that is easier said than done. We were terrified to try again and at the same time, we really wanted to have a baby. I really wanted to have a baby. Shortly after our housewarming party in November of 2002, we found out we were expecting again on December 5th. (I actually know the exact date of conception, but I won’t go into details hereJ, my family reads this blog too) Talk about crazy. I was so paranoid and worried and excited and trying to be hopeful that I was driving myself crazy! (And probably Tom, too) Our due date was August 13, 2003 and that seemed like forever!

We made it to about 9 ½ weeks uneventfully. Then one night, while Tom had run out to the store for something I had a sudden bout of bleeding. I totally freaked. It was just a rush of blood, kind of like a pop and there was bleeding and then it stopped very quickly. We went to the ER per our Dr’s instructions and after waiting until the wee hours of the morning with no more spotting we decided to go home and go to our own Dr. first thing in the morning to get an ultrasound.

You see, at 9 ½ weeks, you are still in the first trimester and therefore you do not get to go to Labor and delivery, but to the regular ER. There you wait and are monitored, but if you are miscarrying they cannot stop it and so they just make sure you have no other, more serious symptoms. And you are not the priority for the ultrasound machine, so you could wait a really long time for someone to come down to take a look to see if your baby is still okay. It’s a pretty crappy system from my point of view.

The next morning we woke up and immediately went to the OB’s office, thinking the worst and hoping the best. On ultrasound our little bean was moving all over and had a wonderfully strong heartbeat! Whew. What the bleeding was was a subchorionic hematoma – a small pocket of blood or clot that develops between the folds of the placenta and the uterine wall. Some resolve on their own and some will cause bleeding, most often it is not a really big problem in the first trimester and the Dr. just watches to make sure the placenta is still attached fine. That was what happened to me. They just watched, put me on bed rest for a while and then everything seemed okay.

On March 26^th, 2003, it seemed like I may be losing my mucus plug. No, I was only about 18-19 weeks along, that couldn’t be happening. One call to the OB and they would clear this up. They said to come in immediately. Do not delay. Tom and I rushed back to Flint (where the OB was and closer to where we lived) from Lansing (where we both worked). That was a pretty stressful drive. Upon taking a look at my cervix, the Dr. asked Tom to take a look too. What?! Ewww. But he did it and the Dr. explained that what he was looking at was my bag of water bulging out of my dilated cervix! We were to go to the hospital immediately – lying on my back in the backseat – they were calling ahead to let them know we were on our way. They did an emergency cerclage (sewed my cervix shut) that was not quite successful and I ended up dilated again and in the hospital on strict bed rest.

So, we were just trying to buy some time for our little peanut now. We needed to keep him/her in me for as long as possible, and since I was not in active labor but just dilated, the plan was to keep me on my back and hope for the best. We got a visit from the neonatologist and he told us that we needed to get to at least 23 weeks, they could not intervene for the baby until after that point. They would transfer me by ambulance to the hospital with the NICU when I was almost 23 weeks. He also told us all the scary complications that could happen for the baby, the extent of what they could do and tried to give us some hope that we could have a healthy outcome for our little one. It was way overwhelming to say the least. I made it to the almost 23 week mark, and on a Monday, April 14^th I was transferred to Hurley. I wouldn’t be on the antepartum unit very long.

On that Friday night, the 18^th, I started having contractions after dinner. After a pattern became apparent they moved me to the labor and delivery unit to try to stop the labor. I can honestly tell you that what they do to stop the labor is nearly as bad as the labor itself. Anyone who has been on magnesium sulfate will attest to that. I was now 23 weeks and 3 days pregnant.

After hours of trying to stop the labor, it was obvious that not only was that not working, but I was showing signs of infection , was dilated completely and the baby had moved into the birth canal. It was not going to be stopped and this baby was coming.

Here’s where my memory becomes spotty. I remember noticing at one push that there was A LOT of people in the room. A LOT, like 20 maybe. One of the nurses was wearing rabbit ears, this was Easter weekend. I do remember a lot of pain, and some really gory details that need not be shared. But at 3:39 am that Saturday morning, our baby was born and Tom clearly shouted to me, “I think I saw that it’s a boy!”

Joshua Thomas was born at 3:39 am on Saturday, April 19^th, 2003. He weighed 1 lb. 6 oz. and was 11 ¼ inches long. He was the smallest baby in the NICU at that time, called a micro preemie. But to us he was perfect, small, but so perfect. He had my nose and Daddy’s hands and feet.

How do I start to tell you how much I love this boy? How much I wanted this boy? How I adored every second that I spent with him? This small little guy was our very existence for the time he was with us. I spent everyday (minus one day that I thought I might be sick and did not want to risk taking any germ to him) at his bedside. Sometimes I talked to him, sang to him, or held his hand. Sometimes I just sat in the chair and rocked and stared at him. Often I cried, for both happy and sad reasons. Oh how I loved this beautiful creature that was mine, a part of me. I would leave when the unit closed to visitors and return with Tom later in the day. This was my life. He was my life at that time.

Joshua had good days. Days where we got to change diapers or ooh and aah over his yawns, stretches and grimaces. The best days were when he was doing so well that we could hold him. That was heaven, absolute heaven. I spent my first mother’s day and my 29^th birthday in the bliss that was Joshua. We got to show him off and share loving on him with his grandparents, his great-grandma, aunts, and uncles. I never knew that one little boy could bring me so much joy and pride.

Joshua also had his bad days. Days where scary things happened, things we could not fix, but could just stand by and watch others try to fix. That’s one of the really hard parts of him being in the hospital, there was so much we could not do for him and everyday we had to leave him there, entrusted to someone else’s care. There were days when we were sure we would lose him. We called our family to come and somehow he would pull through. It was not only physically exhausting, but emotionally horrendous. We had Joshua baptized in the NICU on one of those bad days that turned around. It was so special to have our family there and have him blessed. I am so glad that we did that.

We watched other babies come and go - big, fat round babies who had been there but a few hours and babies that had been there for a long time before we were. Joshua had a tag on his bed that said “I’m Tiny, but Tough” and was he ever. We were prepared for the long road that lay ahead. The long road that would be healing and catching up for Joshua, as long as he was with us we were willing to work through anything.

At the beginning of June, Joshua began to show signs of a bowel perforation; he had surgery to repair it, but was really struggling to heal. He had become septic. We spent many nights there in the hospital, wanting to be close for him and for us. On the morning of June 9^th I got the call we had been dreading. My mom rushed me to the NICU and Tom rushed back from work. When I got there I was told there was no more that could be done. We had thought it was the end before, but this time I could feel it, I knew. I held my baby close, told him I loved him, and stroked his hair. When Tom arrived, we had them remove all the tubes and wires and we just held Joshua, for the first and only time, with nothing in the way. In a private room, we wrapped him in his blanket from home and told him all the things we needed to say. We said goodbye. Our families said goodbye. To say this was a defining moment in my life does not do it justice. And yet, we had no preparation for this, we were feeling our way through this profound, important experience. You can’t prepare for this.

That day and the days that have followed have been incredibly difficult. We had his funeral; Tom spoke and read this beautiful story he had written of our baby boy. My dad’s friend, a wonderful singer/songwriter, sang for the service and we all joined in as he sang ‘You are my sunshine’ to him at the end of the service. That was our song. He was cremated and his ashes are with us, kept in a special place in our bedroom.

The abyss that I sank into after Joshua’s death lasted for a while. I thought I would never emerge, maybe that I never wanted to emerge, but we had a lot of great support from our family and friends, and a great grief therapist that helped both Tom and I through.

And time. It takes time. Lots of time.

There are days still that I am a mess, days that I am so sad for him that I cannot function properly, but those days are less frequent. I will always be a bereaved mother, I will always have a son that died and I will always mourn his loss. I am crying now as I write this, I think these tears will always come. This part of my life affects my everyday existence and yet, if I had to do it all again, even knowing how it would end up, I would give anything to do over those 7 weeks and 2 days that I had with my sweet baby Joshua.

I could go on and on forever with stories about Joshua, our time with him, and the grief that we continue to experience, but I hope this gives you a snapshot into one of the happiest and saddest times in our lives. And maybe gives a clearer picture of who we are and our struggle with ‘infertility’, infant loss and bereavement, things I know many of you in the blogging world have also experienced. Our story continues…

Coming Next: Saying Hello and Goodbye to Sarah and Jacob