doesn’t look good. i’m sorry.

25 Mar


it doesn’t look good, im sorry.

those words. they hit me hard. it was one of many quick runs to labor & delivery with this sweet baby girl inside. but this time it seemed different. it seemed more casual. more just in case. the bleeding was not as bad as it had been. but we were close. we were so close to viability. that word. oh, that word. so when that group of words,  it doesn’t look good, i’m sorry,  filled the room, those awful words, it hurt deep. . .4 years of hope. and prayer. and then answered prayer. and then unanswered prayer. how. how. how. what happens now. never again. never again. im done. sam cari madeira. done.

questions. surgery i hoped. no delivery. delivery? i had wanted to experience “real” childbirth, but this was not exactly what i had meant. i had felt cheated and robbed with madeira because i had not been able to do what billions had done before me. have a baby the way it was intended. healthy, strong, nurturing, nourishing. but now i was going to do just that. with a baby i would hold for an instant and then for earthly ever would be out of my arms. so wrong.

tears and pain.

one hope. hope in a heartbeat and a friend. don’t give up. that little baby’s heart is beating for you. don’t give up. she told me. it was hard to believe but i did.

that nite was awful. we lied to madeira. we lied to ourselves. we waited. we waited we waited.

as the sun rose without us, we waited. she, dr. ramos, she came, with hope. things look better. go home. lay. drink and rest.

and we did. we did with so many. without whom we could not have.

we did for 17 weeks.

she moved, she kicked, she grew. i drank, i laid, i prayed.i knitted. i visited.  i hoped. i was grateful for each day. i loved.  i felt loved. more than ever.

and then i woke. and i knew. it was time. we got dressed and left. madeira was so brave and sam so strong. we hoped. madeira brought juice and snacks for her birthday at school. she was loved. and taken care of, we were so loved.

lola came into the world. she was strong and brave and pink and little. i was sleeping and loved and so very protected. lola cried and was wheeled away. her strong daddy followed her. i was saved. and fixed. and was THIRSTY. i woke up alone but not. my first thought was not about my baby, but about my pain. i did not even remember that i had had a baby. i was hurting and thirsty. minty sponges were shoved in my mouth, but the thirst did not stop.

and then my brain turned on. where is my baby? is she ok? is she really here? how?

but answers had to wait. replenishment came first. replenishment from others. strangers. for whom i owe it all. blood from strangers. you never know what it means until it means so much.

moving day, icu to ante partum. you go to ante instead of post when things aren’t smooth. thankfully. because i love those ladies. brynn, sydney . . .forever in my heart. someone told me, right now, while you are transported ask to see your baby. ask now. i seriously have no idea who said that to me (i also asked for someone to help me go to the bathroom while i still had a catheter (they did), so i am not to be trusted, but i am pretty sure this moment happened).

someone pushed me in to the nicu, corner room on the right. she got the corner office. blessed girl. i rolled up and reached my hand into the hole. we touched. i said aloud. we made it. we made it. and i cried. she was mine. and she was here. it was short. but oh so sweet.

a few days later i went home. she did not. she stayed, she needed more time. and maybe i did too. we hoped for her to come home on thanksgiving, but it was not time. still thankful. soon, though. one day, they said go get her car seat. it was time.

she came home. we were home. 4 as 1. unbelievable. how. blessed. grateful.

she is now 1 and so feisty. a feisty fighter. no is her favorite word. it doesn’t look good, NO, NO, NO. it does. it looks like a sweet baby girl, with a hole in her heart that will grow together.

oh lola capri.

so grateful. and changed.

so many do not get the same ending. why is that? i would love to know. i still follow the stories of many who were not so lucky. we went through the potential loss together, but my loss became a gain. why? i believe in god. i believe in a loving god. i do not ever pretend to know why. but i am so grateful that we got to become 4 and that we did not remain 3 or become 2. i feel great compassion for those who do. the rest of our lives we will be grateful. and hopeful.

it was time to share. for me to begin to feell this. to begin to understand.

thank you for giving. and hearing.and hoping

it does look good. and i am not sorry.

4 Responses to “doesn’t look good. i’m sorry.”

  1. Amy, Using Our Words March 25, 2014 at 4:47 am #

    Love this. Love you. Love the blessed number 4.

  2. Brenda March 25, 2014 at 4:54 am #


  3. Alison March 25, 2014 at 4:55 am #

    Tears again! Love, hope, gratitude, empathy and so much more Love. (HUG)

  4. Lisa March 25, 2014 at 12:55 pm #

    Thank you for this. Love you and your family, all 4 of you!

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