My pregnancy was not very easy from
the start. I spent the first months
nauseous, tired, and an ocean away
from my husband. As soon as I returned
to Canada I had a terrible scare with
heavy bleeding at 12w; At 16w I lost a
lot of fluid suddenly, but at the
hospital they did the paper test, and
concluded it was not amniotic fluid. I
did have some separation of my
placenta, and was told to take it
easy. I did this, and at my 18w test,
they said everything looked great.
At 21w, I started to lose more fluid,
but after my last experience, I
thought is was just urine. It became
clear that this was not the case. Once
I finally went to the clinic, they
said that my amniotic fluid level was
at 2cm, which was insufficient for
lung development. The outlook was
pessimistic. I would have to wait
until 24w for them to consider
delivering the baby, but they did not
expect me to last that long. Even if
we did, there was a very high chance
of severe disability, not to mention
the likely respiratory problems from
missing these two + crucial weeks in
amniotic fluid. They suggested that
because of this, the mental strain,
and the high chance of infection, we
terminate. But, we could wait and see.
I went back to the clinic at 23w, and
my fluid level was the same despite a
very difficult week of complete bed
rest. First, it is difficult to be a
very active person in bed all the
time, and second, I was tortured about
the decision we had to make. My
husband was very supportive and wanted
to keep hoping as long as possible,
but my health (physical and mental)
was the top priority. My friends were
all amazing and gave me lots of
distractions to pass the time. After
the 23w appointment, and all we had
read about the true probabilities, we
decided to terminate, and it was
scheduled for the next day.
The nurses were all very good, and
although we had to stay in the
maternity ward, we had the room
furthest away from the new mothers.
The induction started at 8:30 am, and
I had heavy cramps by noon. They gave
me some painkillers, which made me
vomit quite a lot, and we saw a
psychologist, that we will see again.
By 7:45pm I had regular, intense
contractions, and at 8:30, after one
big push, our little baby came out. He
did not survive the delivery, but he
was absolutely beautiful. We spent a
long time with him. I told him to find
my mom, who died almost exactly a year
and a half ago, and we named him
Severino. We marvelled at how little
he was, and how perfect he was. I am
sure I was quite high on endorphins,
as the contractions had really hurt,
but I was then in a state of
tranquility and awe.
I didn't pass the placenta, and then I
had to go for a D&C, but it went well.
We came home this morning, tired, sad,
and a quite lost. I am still bleeding
a lot, but have not started to give
milk.
We miss him a lot already. We have
some pictures, and his footprint. We
have such a lovely memory of him, and
although we are terribly sad about
what happened, we still think we made
the best decision for our family. Both
of our families fully supported the
decision, and are glad that my health
is good, and that we didn't make him
suffer unduly. For now, we have a lot
of work to grieve, and to get in shape
to try again.
He is our first son, and will always
be. Sweet Severino.
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