Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope

Lyndsi

Mom to Elin Louise

June 7th, 2005

Monday, June 6, 2005 was just an ordinary day for us. I was 35 weeks along and looking forward to the birth of our first child. I got up and went to work at 6 a.m. Later that day I realized I hadn’t felt the baby move much, if any. 

I went home from work at 6 and told my husband. He wasn’t concerned so I tried to calm myself down. Finally, I couldn’t do it and he called our friend and local P.A. He told me to lay down and drink some water and see if I felt anything. I couldn’t relax. The P.A. called me back and decided to make a house call. He came with the portable heart rate thing and checked. He couldn’t find anything but told us he was sure everything was fine and after changing the battery in the monitor and still nothing he played it off as him being over in Iraq for 18 months and not doing any of this stuff. I was completely freaked out and knew something wasn’t right. They never had trouble finding my baby’s heartbeat from week 12 or so. He called the hospital and had us go in to be monitored. It was the longest 30 mile drive. 

When we got to the hospital the nurse hooked me up to the monitors and couldn’t find anything. She had the doctor come in and he couldn’t find anything so we were sent for an ultrasound. I knew this wasn’t going to be the outcome we were hoping for. The tech put the stuff on my belly and started. The doctor was there with us during all of this. All I remember about the sonogram was the tech saying “there is the heart”. That is all it took and I knew our hopes and dreams for our first child were gone. The doctor sat there with us for a while, not saying anything and just letting us cry. He, himself, was having a very hard time with it. It is a very small, rural hospital that doesn’t deal with this stuff very often. In fact this was his first and I think the delivering doctor’s first. 

They took us back to the labor and delivery room and told us they would let us sleep since it was nearly midnight and start induction first thing in the morning. I told them no, I wanted to start now. They gave me a cervadil to get things started and told us to try and get some sleep. We called our parents and gave them the news. It was the absolute worst feeling in the world. We slept off and on during the night and the next morning around 8 a.m. they started the pitocin and epidural. Elin Louise was born sleeping at 11:26 a.m. on Tuesday, June 7. That was the hardest day of my life. Our parents were there by that time waiting in the waiting room. They brought cameras and spent a few hours with us. We took several pictures of our angel and pictures of her with all of her grandparents and us. We decided we wanted to do an autopsy so they had to take her from us later that day. The worst feeling in the world was when they came to get her and my husband carried her out of the room. 

We went home from the hospital the next day. It was so horrible to walk out of there with nothing but her little hat and a blanket. Walking into our house empty handed was such a disappointment and I felt like had truly disappointed everyone by not keeping my baby safe and well. The next few days are a blur – people stopping by to see us, planning a service for our baby, crying. I cried myself to sleep every night in my husband’s arms. That Friday was supposed to have been our baby shower so it made things so much harder. Instead of a baby shower it was the night before her funeral. On Saturday, June 11 we buried our baby girl. We just had a graveside service with family and close friends. We never found out why she died but I truly believe it was some sort of cord accident. It wasn’t around her neck but I suspect that she compressed it somehow. She was a very active baby and the weekend before we were at a wedding dance and I was dancing and playing with my niece and wonder if I did something to cause it. I don’t remember if I felt her move the day following the wedding. I will forever wonder what happened to her but I know she is being loved by her great-grandmothers in heaven so that helps a little. She looked like a doll and I will forever miss my baby. 

Today it has been 5-1/2 years and I still break down for her and sit here crying while I tell our story.

You can contact Lyndsi at clmorton@bluevalley.net