May 30, 2019 was a Thursday. It was my first official day of summer break. Andy and I had scheduled maternity photos that evening and I had scheduled a hair appointment that morning.
I was officially 32 weeks pregnant. Our son, Jack, was just as active as he’d always been but I had this nagging feeling in the back of my mind. This feeling was normal though. After losing our first, Ruby, I was always on edge about my pregnancy with Jack so I tried to shake the feeling and go about my day.
After my hair appointment, I picked up my Mama and we went to lunch, I went to the cemetery to visit Ruby, I drove to my Daddy’s automotive shop to visit, and finally, I left to head home.
Jack was active the entire time although his activity was slowly becoming less and less. I assumed he’d decided to nap. After all, just like no movement isn’t normal when pregnant, constant movement isn’t normal either.
When I got home, Andy and I began getting ready for our maternity shoot. We met at our photographer’s house that evening and we spent an hour with her enjoying our time.
The entire time, I still had that nagging feeling in the back of my head. I even considered telling Andy that I wanted to go by the hospital on the way home, just to be safe, but around that time, I felt Jack shift positions and I felt better and I kept my mouth closed.
We got home between 9:00-10:00 after taking dinner to a friend who’d just had a baby of her own and got ready for bed shortly after because I was supposed to be at a leadership conference the next morning.
Jack had not moved since he shifted in the car. Worry returned but I chalked it up to being more active than usual that day so I said a prayer and went to sleep.
I woke up in the middle of the night and I noticed Jack was squirming around a little so I fell back asleep with a little more peace of mind.
The next morning, when my alarm went off, I laid in bed waiting to feel Jack. Nothing. I got up, fixed coffee, got dressed, and still nothing.
I had some extra time so I laid back down in bed to do a kick count. Jack usually gets moving after I do if not before. Nothing.
I said another prayer and made the decision to bow out of my conference so that I could go to the doctor’s office. I texted my school principal to let her know that I wouldn’t make it and then I got up and let Andy know what was going on.
I laid on the couch in the living room to continue trying for a kick count. I set an alarm for 8:30 when my doctor’s office opened. Andy had a doctor’s appointment of his own so he was getting ready to leave but asking me to keep him updated.
I called my doctor’s office as soon as they opened and left a message with the nurse. She called back about 30 minutes later and told me to come on in.
Jack still had not moved.
After losing our daughter, we were on edge about losing another child, but we were hopeful that this pregnancy would be different. Even so, Andy and I had agreed not to worry our families if we didn’t have to so no one knew, except Andy, that I was on my way to the doctor.
I also NEVER went to appointments alone for fear of learning the worst and being alone. I was so sure that I was overreacting that I didn’t think twice about going to this appointment by myself.
When I arrived, the office was packed and thankfully, a friendly face was among them, a coworker and friend. I knew she had an appointment, but I wasn’t positive I’d see her.
She came over and talked with me while we waited until she was called back. Then I sat waiting alone. Andy texted to say he was done with his appointment and he could head my way (he was 20-30 minutes away). Once again, I was sure I was overreacting and I told him that I didn’t want him to come for no reason so he should just hold off.
Jack still had not moved.
Andy told me he’d hang in town so he’d be closer if I needed him instead of heading home (our home is about 45 minutes away).
I waited in the waiting room for what felt like hours. It was probably only 20 or so minutes. My friend came back out and offered to stay with me to which I explained that Andy was “on call” but she did wait with me until I was finally called back.
Once back, they took me into a room I’ve never been in before and brought in the NST machine that monitors the baby’s heart rate and movement. I’d had several of these in previous weeks and Jack’s heart rate was never hard to find. We always picked it up immediately. Always.
This nurse could not find his heartbeat but left telling me she was terrible at using the NST.
I knew better.
I texted Andy and told him to head my way. I’d rather he be in route and need to turn around than not be close and I need him.
A second nurse walked in and tried to find Jack’s heartbeat. She found it, but it was much lower than usual. Jack’s heart rate usually fluctuates between the 140s and 170s. The heart rate being picked up was fluctuating between 115 and 135.
In the back of my mind, I knew….that’s not his heart rate. That’s mine.
I didn’t say anything. I just hoped I was wrong.
The nurse mentioned using the ultrasound machine to ease my mind and she left to go get it and the doctor.
I waited. Jack still hadn’t moved.
I was seeing one of the doctor’s at my practice but he was not MY doctor. He came in and asked what was going on to which I said that I hadn’t felt the baby moving and if that’s his heart rate it’s too low.
He unhooked me from the NST machine and turned on the ultrasound machine.
I’ve seen enough ultrasounds to know enough about what he was looking for. I saw Jack, not moving, on the screen and then he moved over his chest cavity and that little bump, bump, bump movement….it wasn’t there.
He didn’t say anything at first and I waited hoping that I was wrong. He moved away from Jack’s chest cavity and back again.
Still nothing.
And then, he said it. The words that will haunt me the rest of my life…
“This baby has no heartbeat.”
My head fell back, my hands came to my face, and I began to sob.
The doctor stumbled around the room looking for tissue. He found it, handed it to me, and hurriedly told me that he was going to get my doctor for a second opinion as he rushed from the room.
I called Andy, and barely got it out of my mouth when he answered the phone. “They can’t find his heartbeat.” He told me he was almost there and we hung up.
I sat in that room, alone, and I sobbed and I talked to God, out loud.
“Please not again. Please don’t let it be true. Give him back. It’s not too late to give him back. It can all be a stressful mistake, please it’s not too late. Send him back.”
I begged and I pleaded and I prayed until both doctor’s returned.
The ultrasound machine was turned back on. The first doctor showing my own doctor what he himself had seen. Finally, they both agreed, Jack was gone. Our rainbow had died.
There I was, by myself, reliving this nightmare all over again. They wiped the ultrasound gel from my stomach and helped me sit up and my doctor gave me the biggest and tightest hug that I needed more than anything at that very moment and all I could say, could barely get out of my mouth, was “Why can’t we have a baby?!”
I know he answered in some way, but I have no idea what he said. He just kept hugging me.
Finally, we pulled away from each other and he asked if I needed to call someone and I told him Andy was on the way. He and the other doctor began talking. A nurse walked in and asked if she should stay with me to which my doctor told her that Andy was coming. She said she’d go watch for him and left.
A few more minutes passed while they talked and I cried, silently now, before the nurse came back with Andy right behind her.
He immediately hugged me and I started crying harder again telling him Jack was gone. I just remember him asking, “They’re sure?” and I nodded my head.
The doctor’s left, telling us they were going to give us time to ourselves and as soon as the door closed I was sobbing again. I just kept wondering and I’m sure it came out of my mouth at least once if not more, “Why? Why can’t we have a baby? I can’t bury another baby. How are we back here again? How are we going to do this again?”
Andy just kept hugging me, but while my dominant emotion was devastation. His dominant emotion was anger. He was asking the same questions, but he was mad.
When the doctor’s came back in we began asking questions. We need to know why. What do we need to do to find out why? This isn’t a fluke anymore. Tell us what to do. My doctor mentioned having an autopsy done.
Yes, done, do it.
He agreed that more testing needed to be done. That he felt there was also an underlying factor at this point.
We then discussed our delivery options. It was explained to us that a vaginal delivery after a c-section posed more of a threat to my life and it was recommended to have a repeat c-section.
Fine, that’s fine. That was always our plan anyway.
They then explained that it wasn’t an emergency situation and we could decide when to have the surgery. Today, tomorrow, first thing next week. It was up to us.
They left again.
I asked Andy what he thought to which he replied that it was entirely up to me. We’d do whatever I was comfortable with.
I wasn’t ready to go right that second, but I didn’t want to wait longer than a few hours. We had to tell our families, we had to take care of our dogs, I needed to pack a bag.
We let the my doctor know that we wanted to have the surgery sooner rather than later. He left one more time to call the hospital to be sure there was a slot and came back and told us we could go right then if we wanted to which we declined. We were told that I couldn’t eat or drink anything between then and the surgery, to come back around 5:00 and we’d have the surgery around 7:00.
I’ve never felt so empty, defeated, and lost walking out of that office.
Andy didn’t feel comfortable with me driving so we walked to my car to get anything I’d need and we left it there in the parking deck.
We decided to get home before making any phone calls and we drove home. I don’t remember what was said. I remember silently crying every now and then the whole way while Andy held my hand or rubbed my leg or arm trying to comfort me while also processing the news himself.
I remember trying to figure out how to tell my family. I didn’t want this to be real. Telling my family would make it that much more real.
When we got home, we just sat for a minute. I remember not knowing what to do, how to feel, what to think. How could I feel so many emotions and at the same time feel so numb?
I’d decided to call my Daddy first. He works with my younger brother, he’d have someone with him. I didn’t want anyone else to be alone when they found out what had happened.
I walked into our bedroom and called my younger brother and asked him if he was by Daddy.
“Nope”
I asked if he COULD BE by Daddy.
“Yeah”
I asked him to go into Daddy’s office because I needed to tell them something together. He let me know that he was putting me on speaker phone and at that moment, I told them that Jack was gone.
I immediately heard my Daddy yell, “NO!”
I gave them a shortened version of the morning’s events and I asked him to please go tell Mama. Not to call her, but to please go be with her and tell her.
My older brother was also at my Daddy’s shop, but I didn’t realize it or I would have asked him to go into the office as well. My younger brother told him while my Daddy drove to tell my Mama.
Meanwhile, Andy sat outside and called his Mom.
We told other friends shortly after as well as our supervisors at work.
My mama eventually called me and told me she was sorry. She asked if they could be there tonight to which I said “Of course” but I did ask them to wait until 7:00 so they wouldn’t be sitting uncomfortably for longer than necessary.
I packed a hospital bag because I didn’t know what else to do and then I laid on the couch. I was hoping to fall asleep but it never happened.
I just kept thinking about our sweet boy who was gone but he was still right there with me. Those few hours waiting to go to the hospital were the longest few hours of my life. I couldn’t imagine having to wait any longer than we did. I also couldn’t eat or drink anything so the closer the time came to leave for the hospital the sicker I felt. I had a headache that felt like it would become a migraine at any moment and I felt like I was on the verge of throwing up at any second.
When we arrived, I was let through to OB Assessment while Andy checked in with the front desk. I checked in and we waited.
Our labor and delivery nurse came to get us and took us to a private room. She explained that my doctor had called ahead and explained the situation to which I started to tear up again and she gave me an extremely comforting hug. She also let us know that it isn’t common to have a private room pre-surgery but she felt that we needed and deserved privacy due to the nature of our situation so she didn’t want to put us in the regular area which apparently isn’t private at all. This was extremely appreciated.
I was then asked to undress and put on the lovely hospital gown before my nurse came back to insert my iv and take an excessive amount of blood. We were told that some was routine pre-surgery. The rest were for tests that had been ordered by my doctor looking for answers as to why we were going through this again.
I was also feeling extremely sick at this point and we asked for medicine for my headache and for nausea since I hadn’t been able to take anything. She went to call my doctor to have something ordered for me.
We sat in the room and talked and waited. My nurse came back and said they’d prescribed Valium for me, but there was none on the floor so they had to make it and get it up to me. She drew more blood for additional tests that had been ordered. More people came in and out asking me to sign paperwork and preparing me for the c-section.
I was asked if I wanted to be awake during the c-section.
Yes.
I was asked if we wanted pictures taken of Jack after he was born.
Yes.
I was asked if we wanted time with him after he was born.
More than anything.
After being prepped and waiting for a few hours, my Valium came right before I was about to be wheeled out for surgery.
We ended up at the hospital during a shift change at the hospital so everyone who’d come in and introduced themselves to me weren’t the ones who were actually with me during the surgery. The first anesthesiologist that came in was a lady but the one who actually gave me my epidural was a man who never told me his name. He questioned why they were giving me Valium right before a c-section and said he’d give me something different that would work better.
I never got the Valium.
They wheeled me into the OR at which time I was separated from Andy. They took him to put on the scrubs he would be wearing during surgery.
As soon as I was in the operating room, every emotion hit me. Every emotion I’d felt when Ruby was born combined with every emotion I’d felt since finding out we’d lost Jack that morning. I knew the outcome of this surgery and the anxiety came flooding in and I was crying again.
My least favorite part, of both of my c-sections, was having the spinal epidural placed. This time however, it was far worse. I was already upset, but my new labor and delivery nurse and anesthesiologist were also less than helpful. They didn’t communicate to me what was going on and what to expect. I’d get lightning shocks up my right leg and then all I’d hear is “You have to stay still.” It happened a few more times before I was asked “What are you feeling?” And when I explained it, I was told “That’s normal. You’ve got to try and stay still.”
It felt like it took twice as long as with Ruby to have the epidural placed and I know it was because no one would communicate with me what was happening and what to expect on top of the anxiety I was already feeling.
However, when I was finally numb and laying on the operating table, whatever I was given definitely worked. Andy appeared beside me. He held my hand and when the surgery started I was completely calm. No headache. No nausea. No anxiety.
The surgery was much quicker. Jack Thomas Reid was stillborn around 7:30 PM on May 31,2019.
The silence in that room was surreal. I didn’t even know that Jack was out of my body until they came to ask Andy if he’d like to see him. Andy left for just a minute and came back and stayed with me until the surgery was done.
Once again, being moved from the operating table was an ordeal but this time it was because they didn’t lock the bed in place and it almost rolled out from under me. This time, whatever medicine they’d given made me too indifferent to really care if I hit the floor or not.
They moved us into the recovery room and shortly after, they brought in our sweet Jack. I held that little boy for hours. I was trying to remember his weight and his little features. I pulled his little hand out of the swaddle and held it. I just stared at him.
I loved him and I missed him so very much.
Jack had dark wavy hair like his mama. He had my little nose and ears. Every other feature, was his daddy’s.
We were in recovery for 2 hours. We were able to spend time with Jack while the nurses came in and were poking and prodding at me. When it was time to move us to a room, they allowed me to take Jack too. My family would be able to “meet” him.
My parents and my siblings were able to hold Jack if they chose to. They were able to see him and spend time with him. I wish Andy’s mom and sister could have seen him that day but they lived too far away.
After everyone left, it was me and my mama. Andy left to take care of our dogs and to pick up his mom who had flown in from Michigan.
I held Jack a little longer. We unwrapped him to look at his long toes and discovered his big feet. Jack was going to be tall.
It was shortly after that I made the decision to send Jack away. His coloring was changing and his body temperature was dropping.
It was time.
I called the nurse to come and take him and once again said goodbye to one of my children.
It never gets easier.
Jack was gone just like his sister. Our two babies are together in heaven and we are here missing them.
Out of the Darkness 