As expected, this week wasn’t easy. We had an appointment at the hospital this past Wednesday, which was scheduled after my little trip to the ER last week. But the appointment ended up being mainly about Sam’s death and all the test results that came quicker than expected …
So now we know.
It was indeed a hemorrhage in the placenta that caused him to lose half his blood and made his heart stop. I still feel sick to my stomach when I think about it. The doctor assured me he didn’t suffer, which is a small consolation. What happened was basically plain fluke, apparently. No one could have predicted it, nor prevented it. It wasn’t because of anything I may or may not have done, it wasn’t genetic, there was nothing physically wrong with me or the baby. It was sheer bad luck. One in a million, probably. I still don’t understand why this had to happen to us. The pregnancy had gone so well. Of course I whined about little aches here and there, but overall, everything had been going great for the past 9 months. We were so close … just a few days away.
I’ve always been an optimist. In every situation, no matter how bad, I always try to look at the bright side or find at least some positive twist to it. But in this case, I fail to find anything good. If he’d been sick, we’d find comfort in the fact that he’s no longer suffering. But he wasn’t sick. He was absolutely perfect. There was nothing wrong with him. Had he been born a week earlier like many babies do, he’d be here with us today.
It’s so sad and unfair. And I don’t know what to make of it, except to say that it is what it is and that nothing will bring our baby back.
So instead of changing diapers, here’s what I’ve done this week:
It contains a few small items that we could never reuse for another baby because of the emotional value they have. There’s the little Christmas ornament we bought in Bruges in August, the bunny slippers Gert’s mom bought for him, the bunny blankie I bought for him in June, the hat he wore right after he was born and which we discovered still has some of his hair inside, and then the candle we received when he was blessed and which was also lit at his funeral. The ribbon around it was originally purchased for his baptism, and the wooden letters are those that had been put up on the bookshelf this past Summer to decorate the nursery.
I’m confident time will make things better. And we are looking forward to having more children (fingers crossed). The doctor said that the odds of this happening twice in a row are next to void. But should I get pregnant again, they will monitor things closely and probably induce labor at the 38th week. So, we are hopeful for a happy ending. Even though it hurts to know that there will always be a child missing :-(