I am a face. Again.

Willow was born on July 4th, 2010. My second daughter. I was 21 weeks pregnant.

On Tuesday we went for an ultrasound. Maybe something was wrong. But maybe not, the nurse said.
On Wednesday we went for another ultrasound. There are some problems, the doctor said. Spina bifida. Hydrocephalus. Club feet. Brain damage, the doctor said. "Not mild."
On Friday we went to the hospital and I was induced.
On Sunday she was born. She had already died. We held her. We named her. We let her go.

I had a dream last night...

I had a dream that I was in a bar in Sutter Creek drinking Midori sours.
I was talking to an ex-boyfriend and he was asking how many kids I had.
"Scientifically," I said, "I have two."
"I mean... I've had two babies."

certified.

The fetal death certificate came today.
It doesn't have my middle name on it. That bothers me.
But it does have Dr Bernard's signature on it.
I think if it weren't for that, it wouldn't have made me cry.

WILLOW. Sometimes I whisper her name but I never say it out loud.

things people say...

What do I care what Kevin Nealon says on some podcast? Oh, he'd have his babies even if they were coffee pots. He doesn't even know what a coffee pot is.

This is how it began

I found out I was pregnant on March 13th. I was shocked. I had taken a pregnancy test about a week earlier and it had been negative. I started crying and asked Josh if he wanted to have a baby. He told me that he thought that was what we were trying to do.

I am a face.

I am the face of termination for medical reason.

June 30th. The waiting room of the matenal fetal medicine center at Desert Regional Hospital. I read some of my baby food book to see if it had any good snack recipes for Mischa.

I can't remember how I felt during the ultrasound. I remember seeing the cyst but that's all. I remember thinking it shouldn't be there but telling myself I didn't know. I knew.
I saw it. I knew.

I remember joking to Josh that we should make out when the tech went to get the doctor.

I remember hoping the doctor just had a serious face and that it wasn't b/c our baby had serious problems.

I forget what the doctor said. "They are some problems." I think that's what it was.

spines.

JT posted u/s pics on facebook. The baby's perfect little spine. Spines kill me.

I want my baby back.

This was weeks ago but it's still bothering me. Liz sent me a card that said "thinking of you" and wrote something in it about Mischa being so great while she was there. I forget. I threw the card away.
What about my dead baby?
When we went swimming over there no one even asked how I was.
Like our baby wasn't dead. Like I wasn't in the hospital for 3 days.
Liz kept saying things about what they'd done when Mischa was there and how they'd had fun and all that. Like we were on vacation or something.
When we dropped Mischa off and we were leaving, Mike said something like "Have fun, mom and dad." Like Mischa was saying bye to us so we could go on a trip. I didn't say anything. I don't know if I should have but I wish I had.
Deadbabydeadbabydeadbaby.

"Just give me medicine. Prescribe me anything..." Alkaline Trio

Thinking today. What if we'd kept her. I wonder how bad she would've been.
Maybe we could've had the in-utero surgery.

We did the right thing.
But still.

I wonder things.

Sometimes I wonder which one of us she would've looked like when she grew up.
But I guess that isn't going to get me anywhere.

Mostly we stay home or we go out alone. Maybe we'll go visit a friend. No groups. I tried going to the Baby Signs class at the library. That was after two weeks. It was awful.

Like the volume got turned up on the deadbaby static that is always in my head. The thing that makes me want to say "oh, my baby is dead." Like when the cashier at Albertsons cards me after I forgot my license at home. Sorry, can't buy the whiskey. Oh, that's okay, my baby is dead. Deadbaby static. Like everytime someone says how cute my new haircut is and I want to say "oh, I cut my hair because my baby is dead." It's been over a month. The static is turned way down, but it's still there. I guess it'll always be there.

I hope it is. I deserve something to hold on to from Willow.

Mischa's sleeping on the couch now. Josh is in the shower. Time to type. Time to read babyloss blogs. I want more books. Novels or memoirs.



The wheelchair boy I saw at the mall was at Target a few days ago. Still holding the same baby toy.



Rhonda's having a girl. I saw first her status update and then Terrie's. Then later she posted this "n 1 kick reminds her she's never alone" and I hid her from my wall. She wanted a girl but I was hoping she'd have a boy.



Susan's having a girl. And Sara's pregnant, too. I may never go back to CP. Highs and lows? High... What? I remembered to take both my handfuls of vitamins? I haven't taken an ativan all week? And lows... deadbabydeadbabydeadbaby. Oh, you have morning sickness? Deadbaby. Your baby isn't napping? Deadbaby. Nicole's due this month. Susan and JT. Sara. Too much.



I thought I wasn't going to be angry about this and I'm trying not to be. But it makes me want to puke. I don't want to hear about it.

Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope: Submit your story

Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope: Submit your story: "Your first name, your lost child(ren)'s name(s), and their date(s) of birth and death
Your city/state
Your blog address, if you have one and would like to share it
Up to 5 subject categories (for example, 'stillbirth,' 'early miscarriage,' 'NICU,' 'Pre-eclampsia,') that fit your story.
Your email address, if you are open to having other women contact you with questions or for support"



I am the face of termination for medical reasons.

Jessi

Mom to Willow

July 4th, 2010

Indio, California



termination for medical reasons, stillbirth, spina bifida, 21 weeks, California



My daughter was born on July 4th, 2010. I was 21 weeks pregnant. Her hands were tiny and perfect. Her feet were clubbed but she had perfect little toes. She had died just before delivery.



She was due in November. I had plans. I would have a two year old and a newborn at Thanksgiving.



On June 30th we found out that she had spina bifida, hydrocephalus, club feet. There would be brain damage. She would never walk. She would need shunts, surgeries.



This was not a fatal diagnosis. This was our choice, to let our baby go.



I was induced and her heart was beating the last time the nurse checked her. After she was born, my doctor asked, "Is there a pulse?" There wasn't.

Josh and Mischa went to Home Depot. I'm home alone. Not something that happens often. So this is my chance to write things down... but of course I can't think of any of the things that were on my mind last night.
I got my period. Haven't talked to Josh about another baby yet. Been thinking about it every night.
Last night Mischa was playing with a little hat and it was too small for her. He said something about it being for the next baby.
He cried the other night while Mischa was in the bath. I caught him b/c she wanted to come out and use the potty. Also, he punched a hole in the wall, so I guess I would've seen that eventually.
I got a copy of my u/s reports from Dr Bernard. I asked him and he said that the girls up front would print them for me and then when came out of the room he had just finished printing them. They don't say much but at least now I have slightly more information than I did before.

1 Month, 1 Day

Yesterday was one month. This has been sitting open all day and I can't really think of anything to say.
Had my OB appt. Got a copy of the ultrasound reports.
We went to the Yardhouse for dinner.

In the morning I took Mischa to the mall to play and there was a kid there in a wheelchair. He was maybe 8 and he just sat there holding this baby einstein toy while his little brother played.

I don't believe in angels.

Wednesday will be August 4th. One month since...
I don't know what to call it. One month since Willow was born? Since she died?
Most moms on the boards and blogs use the word "angelversary". They call their babies their angels and talk about them being born into Heaven or growing their wings. They think about their babies playing with puppies on Jesus's lap and running through fields of flowers with their dead relatives.
I don't buy it. Willow is dead, she's gone. Maybe she's some where in some way but I just don't see her swaddled up next to God.
She's not my angel, she's just my dead baby.

I am the face of an interrupted pregnancy.

I will write this.

Lost.

I lost my baby.
Those are not the right words.
She isn't something that I set down somewhere and forgot about. She didn't fall out of my pocket and get knocked under the couch.
I'm not going to find her if I just keep looking.
I am the one who is lost.