I didn't know where to put this, but it's here if it's any help to anyone. Its the short and condensed version of Percivals birth story. Women always seem to share and tell their birth stories. But not the ones who have been lost or never made it. Here is Percivals, my son.
At my 30 week midwife appointment we discussed my wishes at planning for a home birth. I was healthy and my pregnancy had no concerns. The last thing before we left was to hear the babies heartbeat. Only there was none.
They brought in another midwife and another machine to check and asked when I felt him move last. It had been the night before, this was a morning appointment and I had been rushing around to get ready. My typical morning kick count time was about 10 am, after everyone was off to work and the house was quiet.
My partners father drove us to the hospital across town to check further. I had no movement, and Percival always kicked alot if I was stressed or upset. It was like a reminder to calm down, that there was something to look forward too...
We waited for hours while repeated ultrasounds were done. Though they tried to shield me, I could see no heartbeat and feel no movement.
The midwife came in to say they were going to speak to us soon they were just going through some red tape. Once she left, I told my partner that our baby was gone. If everything was fine we wouldn't have been left waiting. I broke down, I only remember saying I wanted the death out of me. There was no baby anymore, just Death. I remember apologizing repeatedly.
We went home for the night and were back at the hospital the next morning to be induced into labour. The doctors and nurses tried OxyContin, two Foleys, and Miso, breaking my water... Everything. Twice. For five days and nights. There were so many exams, and so much pain. I was swollen up like a balloon from all the Saline and Oxy, and the horrendous hospital food. We spent over $200 at the Cafe that week in the attempt to find something to eat.
They (Labour and Delivery) were very kind, and my partner was spectacular. We kept our spirits up and intact.
I was doing the best I could and failing. I never dilated more than 3 cm. The doctor finally came in to tell me that he was worried about my uterus and cervix tiring. We were in uncharted territory and it was time for a cesarean. He was worried about saving my uterus, and we still wanted to try again for another child. I caved. Knowing my body had failed. Again.
The cesarean was awful. The room was too bright, there were so many machines. My partner had to wait outside until I was ready. The numbing started and all I could feel was my right foot bent funny. Until they started pulling on my insides. I could feel them being rearranged, and when they took my baby out. The weight changed, and the emptiness of my body... I could feel the vacuum and the emptying. Like Double Dutch with my insides.
They stitched me up and told me it went well. They were able to clear out most everything and I shouldn't have too much bleeding. My uterus had some thinning and wear on the left side, but seemed to be fine.
We chose to hold Percival in the labour and delivery suite. There was alot of fluid, and because of the five days of induction he was purple and blue, with just a tiny orange nose. I didn't know how to hold him. He was wrapped in this large blanket I crocheted for him. So tiny. We both took turns. It was my partners first child and my heart breaks when I think of his face when he held his dead son.
The next recovery ward was awful after the attention and luxury of our suite. As well as the now very real death of our son.
I have physically recovered well I hear. I am moving around very well after the induction, cesarean, and now my milk trying to come in.
But today my son is being cremated. My partner owns his own business and had to go to work so he can pay the bills.
My son is being cremated and I couldn't make him a hat.