Our Loss
On Sunday, January 30, I woke up that morning earlier than usual. I was 41 weeks and 6 days and confident that we would meet our little one within the next day or so. I engaged in my typical routines of nourishment with hopes of staying rested for the journey ahead. By 9:30am, I laid down for a nap only to wake up to feel as if somehow things were different.
At 11:30am, we (Fitz and I) found out that our baby’s heart had stopped within the past couple of hours. Completely shocked, we looked at one another in disbelief as time stopped completely. We were now in a living nightmare that we would not wake up from. How could this be true for a pregnancy that I’ve been told repeatedly was “boringly normal”?
The OB was tender and caring as he informed us of what our options were for the hours ahead. Sobbing as we left the hospital and with each of the few phone calls we decided to make, we began to prepare for an evening induction process that would take about a day or so. This level of devastation is not only unimaginable, but something that no one can even begin to prepare you for. How am I supposed to live the next hours knowing that my child, who is now dead, continues to inhabit the place in my body that once was so full of life?
Around 6:15 or so that evening, just an hour before we planned to return to the hospital, my body began to go into labor naturally, progressing in intensity so quickly that by the time I was checking in, the contractions were every other minute.
While my previous plan was as low intervention as possible, I opted for any medication that they would give me. By 2am I was given Pitocin as my body was making progress on its own, but needed a little support. By 5:00am I was ready to push. This came with great discomfort that I could feel despite the power of the epidural, as the baby was coming down the birth canal face first and needed to be rotated.
After 45 minutes of trying to push & adjust the baby, it became essential to go for the c-section. At 6:15am on January 31, 2022 we met our baby, Malcolm Mackenzie Fitzpatrick. Weighing a solid 8lbs 4 oz & measuring 22 inches long. He had curly auburn hair & the cutest little face.
We learned that the cause of his heart stopping was the unfortunate alignment of troubling factors with his cord. Not only was the cord over 50% longer than what would be considered excessively long, but the two vessel cord diagnosis I had received half way through the pregnancy reduces the cord’s elasticity along with the late gestational age.
This all meant that his cord became wound up, slowly restricting blood flow to his body until it eventually stopped. The OB noted that he had not experienced an outcome like this in his 20 years of practice.
We were able to spend the next day and a half with his body before the discharge from the hospital, thanks to the CuddleCot provided. Meeting him this way was so perfectly heartbreaking. We are grateful for the love that surrounded us. Presently, we use diligence as we work to stay connected to our sweet baby’s energetic body moving through days beyond his physical death.
While there are more, and will continue to be more, details to consider on this journey, I plan to share a blog about my work as a doula and my journey as a “bereaved mother”. If you are interested in knowing more about any of these aspects, visit my website at https://bornoffire.love/blog
Give yourself many moments to slowly breathe and sit with this story before moving into other parts of your day. Hoping for love & light for your moments ahead.
