Why I Cry Sometimes.....

Seventeen years ago tomorrow I lost something I never got to have. Her name was Emilie and I will miss what she never got a chance to be until my dying day.

My first marriage was a mistake for many reasons but for what I got out of that marriage I would do it over again. We were barely back from our honeymoon when I found I was pregnant the first time. Ryan was a joy but at 22 I was overwhelmed with the unexpected change in my life and wanted to make sure that we had some time before having the second of the two children we planned for. Due to adverse reactions to the pill I had to resort to another method of birth control. My doctor and I discussed my options and I decided to go with an I.U.D. (Intrauterine Device). I was still breastfeeding so with everything else this seemed to be my best option. When Ryan was nine months old I started to feel odd. Yep sure enough I was pregnant.... again. My Ob/gyn did an exam and advised me that leaving the I.U.D. in place was the best thing to do. The string that is used to remove it had retracted and the only way to retrieve it would be to dilate my cervix and go in after it. According to the doctor doing that would most certainly result in miscarriage and as he had seen "hundreds" of babies safely delivered with a retained I.U.D. he saw no reason to "go digging for gold".

Everything was fine until I reached my 23rd week and I started to bleed. After talking to my doctor I went to the ER and was examined. The doctor there told me to go home, rest and see my OB on Monday. That was on Saturday afternoon. By early Sunday morning the bleeding had gotten much worse. Scared my ex-husband Mark and I took Ryan to my parents and went back to the hospital. They admitted me and ordered bed rest. There were no contractions and I wasn't dilated at all so I was told everything was going to be okay. I had an ultrasound on Wednesday morning but heard nothing from my doctor as to the results. No one told what they thought was causing the bleeding and I only saw my OB once for about 2 minutes in those 4 days. Around 3:00 that afternoon I started to feel cramps. I tried to put it out of my mind, hoping for the best but thinking the worst. By the time they were serving dinner I knew. My Dad was at home with Ryan so my Mother could be with me. Mom called Mark at work and told him he should come to the hospital.

I was not quite 24 weeks (according to my ultrasounds) and the doctor and nurses on duty told me that there really wasn't much hope. A baby born that early wouldn't have the lung maturity to survive long. They gave us the option of being taken to McMaster in Hamilton but they advised me that the outcome wouldn't be good and it would be best to just stay there and let nature take its course.

They moved me to a private room and we waited. As my labour became more intense Mark became agitated and thinking he wasn't handling things well my Mom gave him the option of going home to be with Ryan, which he jumped at. (what he actually did and where we went is a whole other post... ). I am so glad my Mother was there with me even though I know that being there will haunt her forever. Thank God for Demerol. I spent a good portion of the night in hard labour stoned out of my mind.

At 7:20 am on Thursday July 23rd, 1992 Emilie Anne was born. She was the tiniest, most beautiful little thing I'd ever seen. She weighed just under a kilogram and looked like her big brother. She lived for about two hours. I held her that whole time as she struggled to breath. My mother had trouble getting word to Mark not realizing that he had never picked Ryan up from my Father the night before and had gone into work that morning. He didn't make it in time to see her before she died. My OB came to see me a few hours later and patted me on the head saying "that's too bad" and left. After they took her from me I was in a fog. When the hospital asked about a funeral and Mark said no I didn't argue. I was a zombie. That is something I will regret forever. They sent me home the next day. I had to go through having my mild come in. My Mother tried to get me to get the doctor to prescribe me something to make it less uncomfortable but that discomfort was all I had left of my daughter. My body healed, but I will never be the same.

I have had people tell me that I need to "let it go", that it was a long time ago. Yes it was a long time ago, but she was my daughter and I will miss her forever. A year later when I held my newborn son Ian in my arms I felt the pain ease a bit. I went through a rough time for a couple of years but with help I worked through it. I learned to deal with the loss as best I could. I try not to think about the what ifs that go along with losing a child.

So every year about this time I get very weepy. I mourn for the child I love but never got a chance to know. Each year wondering what she would have been like. Being shocked last year that it had been 16 years and she would have been old enough to get her driver's license. I look at my 5 year old daughter Brooke, as I have since she was born ,and wonder if she looks like her sister. When people ask me how many children I have I tell them three. Not because I have forgotten about Emilie but because to tell them I have four would mean I would have to explain that she died and there have been very few times in the last seventeen years that I have been able to do that without tears.

Happy Birthday Emilie... Mommy loves you.