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I saw this on pinterest and thought it was perfect for the theme of this post

Preface: This is not something I ever talk about and I try to bury it deep within myself because it’s easier to block it out then relive it but I think it’s time to tell the story.

The day that broke me

FDR once said “a date which will live in infamy” in response to the Pearl Harbor attacks. For me May 1st 2012 is my day that will live in infamy, it’s the day we lost our son.

I knew something wasn’t right as the night of April 30th dragged on I was in more and more pain like he was trying to kick out my cervix. I called my OBGYN and she assured me it was perfectly normal for them to kick so hard down that low believing her I tried to sleep but couldn’t because the pain was unbearable. Around 5-6am I called the office again and talked with another OBGYN who told me to immediately get to the ER. I woke up my husband and within 3o minutes I was laying on a hospital bed with only that thin hospital gown on waiting for a doctor to come see me and do an ultrasound to see what was going on.

The ultrasound tech and the doctor came into the tiny room we were in and preformed the ultrasound. My gut feeling was right something was wrong. His right foot was completely out of my cervix.  For the next few hours all the doctors, obgyns, nurses and anyone else who talked to us wouldn’t tell us what was going to happen, just platitudes. Maybe they could stop the labor.

I have never been so grateful for the truth when the specialist came in and told us I was going to give birth in the next hour it was happening and there was nothing they could do to stop it. (Funny enough I remember him the best because he was an older gentlemen with a red and white polka dot bow-tie on). He was spot on because at about 3pm (I’d have to get out his birth certificate to remember the exact time) William Lynn was born.

I was 19 weeks and 5 days pregnant, he shouldn’t have come out alive but he did. He breathed on his own for 3 hours before passing away. At first I didn’t want to have pictures taken or to even hold him because it felt like what’s the point. I came to my senses and held him almost the entire time he was alive and I have a few pictures of him that I still after almost four years cannot bear to look at. When he took his last breath the nurse was kind enough to take him from me and put him in a really pretty basket.

At that point my husband went off to make the worst phone calls of his life. We were so hopeful this time the pregnancy would go well seeing how the last one the baby died in the womb at 12 weeks and we didn’t find out until the 13th week but that’s another story for another time.

The grievance counselor came in later and gave us the pictures of Will along with his birth certificate that we had to fill out and a death certificate too. Actually she’s the reason he was named Will because and I quote she said “He had a strong will to live”.

I was oddly calm through out all this until I looked at his poor body still in the basket and rigamortis had sat in. I had actually blocked this memory for awhile but it came back with a vengeance a few years later while I was working. Talk about a kick in the stomach. He was just laying there in the gingham lined basket no longing living and looking like a frog, that’s the only way I can describe it.  It was one of the most terrible things I’ve ever seen. You expect so much when your pregnant, what you are going to name them, what your nursery is going to look like, who he’s going to look like, will he have my eyes or Mike’s, on and on. Instead there I was staring down at my dead son trying not to break and failing miserably at it. I ended up laying into a nurse to take him away so he can be cremated with some damn respect.

Luckily I got to go home that night because there was no way in hell I was staying in that damn room another second then I had to. I know I’m skipping over parts but I don’t want to write forever. I will say this 2012 sucked for multiple reasons. In January my grandpa who raised me died in January his name was Roland Lynn hence Will’s middle name being Lynn then four months later we lose our son because I suffer from an incompetent cervix.

I finally put his ashes and all his pictures, baby book and the rest of his stuff in a chest that I refurbished and one day I will tell Katie about him when she’s older like much older. One thing I didn’t put in the chest is the tiny blue teddy bear they gave us for him. I carry it in my purse with me everywhere I go every single day.

I’ve leave you on a bright note though because this is depressing as hell. Without Will there would be no Katie. I would have never know I have IC and maybe this story would have been about her instead. I thank the powers that be every day for that little girl. She’s been something else with all her health issues and being born way too early but she stayed in 7 weeks longer than her brother because I got a cerclage placed thanks to the tragedy of her brother’s short life she got to live and survive to be the awesome little girl that she is today. So thank you Will for giving your sister the chance to live.

 

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