The posting dates for each of these entries has been changed so that readers can now read this blog in chronological order...
This blog has been dedicated to all who have grieved along with us, and for those who may be experiencing a similar loss and just to need to know someone who has "been there."
Anna Danielle Shultz, you will always live on in our hearts.
Love,
Carrie (Mommy)
Wednesday, August 30, 2017
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Why this blog?
This blog has been created as a journey of healing for me after the devastating loss of my daughter, Anna Danielle. She was 23 weeks and 2 days old in my womb when my husband, Eddie, and I lost her. We are still not sure yet what caused the pre-term labor, but are hoping to find some answers when we meet with the doctor who was at the delivery at follow up appointment on August 5th.
Eddie and I were married for 8 months when we discovered that we were going to have a precious baby, who we later found out to be a girl. We immediately named her Anna Danielle. We had no idea that her name would be so absolutely perfect for an angel.
I find healing in writing and sharing my thoughts. In addition to that, I'm hoping this blog will be used as a ministry...to help and network with other mothers and families who have lost a child to preterm labor or miscarriage, and also to witness to others about the love and mercy of God.
Eddie and I have been so very blessed with many, many caring friends, family and strangers who have reached out to support us in prayer and love. We recognize that as a tremendous gift. And we will always be thankful to those who have helped us through this pain and loss.
These blog entries will be used to express ways that I am dealing with the loss of Anna Danielle and to reveal the ways in which God helps my family and I heal.
We now have a saint in Heaven who is praying for us. And we look forward to the day that we will meet our daughter face to face with our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Anna Danielle, pray for us.
Carrie
Eddie and I were married for 8 months when we discovered that we were going to have a precious baby, who we later found out to be a girl. We immediately named her Anna Danielle. We had no idea that her name would be so absolutely perfect for an angel.
I find healing in writing and sharing my thoughts. In addition to that, I'm hoping this blog will be used as a ministry...to help and network with other mothers and families who have lost a child to preterm labor or miscarriage, and also to witness to others about the love and mercy of God.
Eddie and I have been so very blessed with many, many caring friends, family and strangers who have reached out to support us in prayer and love. We recognize that as a tremendous gift. And we will always be thankful to those who have helped us through this pain and loss.
These blog entries will be used to express ways that I am dealing with the loss of Anna Danielle and to reveal the ways in which God helps my family and I heal.
We now have a saint in Heaven who is praying for us. And we look forward to the day that we will meet our daughter face to face with our Lord, Jesus Christ.
Anna Danielle, pray for us.
Carrie
Saturday, July 19, 2014
Friday, July 18, 2014
Our Story
My husband Eddie and I met almost three years ago, on August 24, 2010. From the first time we met, we both knew instantly that we had finally found our soul mates. At the time, he was 45 years old and I was 34. We had both waited a long time to find each other. But that didn't seem to matter as our love for each other grew day after day. Our friends and family really didn't know what to think at first. On my end, everyone was used to seeing me as the single, carefree, unattached girl who loved living life spontaneously...lots of traveling, devoting my life to leading the Music Ministry at St. Paul's Catholic Church and presenting Women's Retreat Weekends. Eddie's friends and family were cautious about him jumping into this relationship so quickly with me because they had seen him hurt in the past and didn't want him to end up hurt again.
But it didn't take everyone long to see that with each passing day, week and month, Eddie and I were perfect together.
It was country boy meets city girl.
Eddie loves tractors, hunting, being in the woods, sporting clays and living a simple life in the country. I, on the other hand, love singing, going to live theater, traveling the world, golfing and being spontaneous. However, the one thing we had in common from the beginning is a love for the Lord. And as our love for each other grew, our love for God grew even stronger. We both have a love and devotion for the Catholic Faith and that was a major commonality that drew us to each other as well.
Six months after we met, Eddie bought an engagement ring and on Valentines Day in 2011, proposed to me in the living room of my apartment after asking my parents for their blessing the night before. I said, "Yes!" with all of my heart.
After a little more than a year of growing together and preparing for the sacred commitment we would make to each other, we were married at St. Paul's Church on a beautiful Saturday afternoon on June 9, 2012, surrounded by our family and friends. It was the happiest day of my life.
Because we were "older," we didn't want to wait too long to start a family. We waited for six months before we began trying to get pregnant because we wanted to enjoy being "just us" as a married couple for at least a little while. After all, we waited long enough for it! 😊
And then, after six months of trying to conceive, I took a home pregnancy test when I returned home from presenting a Women's Weekend Retreat on Sunday, February 24, 2013.
And there was that glorious little plus sign!
Eddie was downstairs and heard me yelling out his name from the upstairs bathroom. He came bounding up the steps as fast as he could, thinking that I was freaking out about another stink bug that needed to be disposed of. When he got to the bathroom, I was standing there with a big grin, holding up the HPT stick with the bright blue plus sign for him to see! With so much excitement, I said, "We're pregnant!" He took me in his arms and hugged me so tightly and began to cry with happiness. Once we let the reality sink in, we both grabbed our cell phones and called our parents! They were so excited!
And thus began a journey of anticipation, joy, anxiety, fear, hope, sadness...but more than anything: love.
Thursday, July 17, 2014
An Uneasy Pregnancy
From the beginning of our pregnancy, it seemed like one obstacle after another.
The morning after we discovered that we were pregnant, I took one more home pregnancy test to make sure it was positive. Then I called the first OB doctor in our area that so many of my formerly pregnant friends had raved about. I was nervous about finding the right doctor because of my age and because of some of the "female" problems I've had most of my adult life.
Unfortunately, that doctor was away on medical leave for several months. So the receptionist on the phone scheduled us to see another doctor in that same office. The first appointment wasn't for at least a month, which apparently was typical. However, I had no idea how all of this worked. So I said to the woman on the phone, "I'm not gonna be seen sooner?" "No dear. There's no need to," she replied. I was confused. "Well, how do I know if I'm really pregnant?" She asked me if I had taken a home pregnancy test. Twice, I told her. "Well then, honey, you're pregnant!" Okay then.
She asked me for all the basic information about myself and informed me that I would be considered high-risk because of my age of 37. I expected that and was somewhat relieved because I was hoping that would mean I would get a little more attention through this pregnancy.
I really didn't feel pregnant for awhile. No nausea. And really no other symptoms that I could tell...other than missing my "monthly visitor." So, the first few weeks were relatively uneventful.
And then, one evening while I was at work, waiting for someone to come to my office for a rehearsal, I felt kinda weird and went to the restroom. I was bleeding and that sent me into a panic. When my rehearsal buddy showed up, I was a crying mess. I told him that I thought I needed to go to the Emergency Room. He saw what a mess I was and offered to drive me there...so off we went. I was shaking and crying with fear. My husband, my parents and my sister met us there. We do everything as a family. :)
During my few hours in the ER, a technician had done a trans-vaginal ultrasound on me and the ER doctor reported that everything looked fine. They could see the gestational sac but did not see an embryo. The doctor said it could simply be because I'm so early in the pregnancy yet. So I was ordered to have some blood work done over the weekend to see if my hcg levels were going up and then have another ultrasound done by my OB the following Monday.
When Monday came, Eddie and I were anxious to see what the doctor had to say. But, unfortunately, when we arrived for the appointment, we were told that we would not be seen by the doctor. A technician would be doing an ultrasound. We were not happy with that, but tried to trust the staff at their word.
That first experience at the doctor's office was not a positive one for us...especially being that we were new, anxious parents anyway. The very young girl who did the ultrasound seemed inexperienced and nervous as she performed another trans-vaginal US on me. It was painful and nerve-wracking as she left the room several times because she was confused by what she was seeing. This caused our anxiety level to heighten even more and then we were sent home with only a simple "We'll have the doctor call you."
We drove the 20-minute commute home in silence and very fearful.
We got home and anxiously awaited the call from the doctor. Four hours later, the phone rang and we were asked to come back to the office so the doctor could see us.
Another long drive...
When the doctor finally came into the room where it seemed like we were waiting forever, she told us that I have what's called a blighted ovum.
An empty sac.
No baby.
This can't be right. But the doctor was sure of it based on the ultrasound done that morning. "I'm so sorry," she said. And then she went on to talk about a "simple" procedure called a D&C to "clean me out."
"No," I said. "I don't mean to be disrespectful but we were not comfortable with the ultrasound done this morning." We explained to her about the technician's insecure behavior. I demanded that we have another one done by a more experienced technician. The doctor had no problem with that and scheduled us to come back in for another one the next morning...at no charge. And she assured us that a more experienced technician would be there.
That was a long night for us.
The next morning, Eddie had to work so my mom went with me. This ultrasound was a very different experience. The technician found the baby right away. She was the size of a sweet pea. And we heard and saw the baby's heartbeat! It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. I said, "I knew it!" And my mom and I both cried. The technician said, "You are at 6 weeks and 2 days. That gives you a due date of October 27th." We were so relieved! I was no sooner out in the parking lot that I was calling Eddie at work to tell him the good news. He cried with relief and said, "Okay. Time to find a new doctor." I agreed.
After asking several friends and family members for advice on a new local doctor, we decided on one and called her office to make an appointment. The first few months went okay, although I had gone to the ER once more due to bleeding. Again, I was discharged with no concern. And our OB doctor was never concerned either. At every appointment with her, she would listen to the baby's heartbeat, ask me if I was having any issues and then would say, "See you in a month."
Throughout the pregnancy, I had lost a good deal of weight. That was from a lot of nausea in the first trimester and a careful diet due to Gestational Diabetes. I was feeling great by the time the end of the first trimester came around. At week 12, we saw our precious little one on the screen for the first time during an ultrasound at Magee Hospital in Pittsburgh. She was quite active in the womb and we were delighted. By week 14, the nausea was letting up and my energy level increased. Everything was going okay. It seemed like the second trimester was going to be a breeze. Eddie and I even went away for a few days to celebrate our first anniversary.
But on the second day of our anniversary trip, I was not feeling very well. We were at week 20 and I was feeling the baby kick for the first time. It was exciting, but so painful at the same time. By the time we got home that Tuesday, I almost dreaded the baby moving around because it hurt so bad...like the baby was kicking my cervix or something. But since I had no idea what to expect, I kept telling myself that it was probably normal.
I told myself, "try to stay calm" over and over again.
The next evening after our return home, Eddie and I met my parents and my sister and a friend for dinner. I could hardly eat. I was feeling a lot of pain and was nauseous. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I could sense it. But I tried to ignore it. We all went to Walmart after dinner and the more I walked around, the worse I felt. I went to the restroom and discovered that I had passed what I believed was my mucus plug. (Sorry for the yucky details, but as you women know, pregnancy is anything but glamorous...no matter how Hollywood tries to portray it!) So, off to the ER (again!) we went. Because I was so far along in the pregnancy, this time I was taken to the Labor and Delivery unit. And once again, I was discharged with no concern. Only that, even though I had been drinking a lot of water, I was a little dehydrated. So I was sent home with a full bladder after drinking a ton of water.
We went for our routine 20-week appointment to our OB the next day. She was not concerned about what had happened the previous evening and said, "That just happens sometimes. We don't know why." I expressed my concern about the pain I was feeling in my cervical area, but she said nothing. I asked her if we were going to have another ultrasound done in Pittsburgh and she said no. She wanted to save the ultrasounds for later in the pregnancy. We were quite confused by this. Most people I knew that were pregnant had one done at the 20th week. Plus, we were hoping to find out the gender of the baby. Even more, I REALLY wanted to have my cervix looked at. She sent us away thinking we were not having one done. But when we checked out at the front desk, we were given an appointment to have one done in Weirton (our local hospital) the following week. Confusing!!
When we left her office, we were both unsettled again. And I asked Eddie if he thought we should switch doctors again since we're so confused all the time. Every time we left this doctor's office, we never felt like our questions were being answered and we were always unsettled and confused. She was a woman of few words and I felt like every question we asked was answered with a blank "deer caught in headlights" look. Not a great way to experience your first pregnancy, if you ask me. Eddie also felt like that was what we needed to do, but we decided to give her another chance to see what happened after this next ultrasound.
Sadly, we had another awful experience with this ultrasound too. To save time, I won't go into details, but it was a very unorganized, frustrating appointment. We left there feeling uneasy and not confident that the staff knew what they were doing. And to top it off, it was discovered that my cervix had begun to open.
I COULD HAVE TOLD THEM THAT A WEEK AGO!
We wished that our OB doctor would have sent us to Magee Hospital like she did the first time, but we were completely helpless at this point.
By this time, Eddie and I had had enough. However, one good thing we left the hospital with was that we were told that the baby was a girl...at least as far as the technician could tell. Well, we needed something to be happy about at that point, so we went with it. We even had a "Gender Reveal Party" a few days later with our family and some close friends. We named our daughter Anna Danielle.
Our doctor had put me on bed rest until further notice. When I talked to her on the phone three days later, she still had no plan of action: only that she was going to call a high risk doctor in Wheeling to examine me sometime in the next week. Why hadn't she called that doctor already?!
By the time we would see the high risk doctor, I had been feeling like something was wrong for more than two weeks now. I just felt like I wasn't being heard. And although the pain had subsided, now I had been passing A LOT of mucus every day for at least a week. That just couldn't be normal.
It was time for us to move on to doctor number three. We were so angry by this time. But doctor number three turned out to be much better. We should have gone there in the first place.
Doctor number three fit me into her busy schedule immediately and saw me the next morning after I called her. She needed some time to look over my history and wanted me to come back in two days. In the meantime, she scheduled us to go see a high risk doctor the following Wednesday.
Little did we know that we would never make it that far.
The morning after we discovered that we were pregnant, I took one more home pregnancy test to make sure it was positive. Then I called the first OB doctor in our area that so many of my formerly pregnant friends had raved about. I was nervous about finding the right doctor because of my age and because of some of the "female" problems I've had most of my adult life.
Unfortunately, that doctor was away on medical leave for several months. So the receptionist on the phone scheduled us to see another doctor in that same office. The first appointment wasn't for at least a month, which apparently was typical. However, I had no idea how all of this worked. So I said to the woman on the phone, "I'm not gonna be seen sooner?" "No dear. There's no need to," she replied. I was confused. "Well, how do I know if I'm really pregnant?" She asked me if I had taken a home pregnancy test. Twice, I told her. "Well then, honey, you're pregnant!" Okay then.
She asked me for all the basic information about myself and informed me that I would be considered high-risk because of my age of 37. I expected that and was somewhat relieved because I was hoping that would mean I would get a little more attention through this pregnancy.
I really didn't feel pregnant for awhile. No nausea. And really no other symptoms that I could tell...other than missing my "monthly visitor." So, the first few weeks were relatively uneventful.
And then, one evening while I was at work, waiting for someone to come to my office for a rehearsal, I felt kinda weird and went to the restroom. I was bleeding and that sent me into a panic. When my rehearsal buddy showed up, I was a crying mess. I told him that I thought I needed to go to the Emergency Room. He saw what a mess I was and offered to drive me there...so off we went. I was shaking and crying with fear. My husband, my parents and my sister met us there. We do everything as a family. :)
During my few hours in the ER, a technician had done a trans-vaginal ultrasound on me and the ER doctor reported that everything looked fine. They could see the gestational sac but did not see an embryo. The doctor said it could simply be because I'm so early in the pregnancy yet. So I was ordered to have some blood work done over the weekend to see if my hcg levels were going up and then have another ultrasound done by my OB the following Monday.
When Monday came, Eddie and I were anxious to see what the doctor had to say. But, unfortunately, when we arrived for the appointment, we were told that we would not be seen by the doctor. A technician would be doing an ultrasound. We were not happy with that, but tried to trust the staff at their word.
That first experience at the doctor's office was not a positive one for us...especially being that we were new, anxious parents anyway. The very young girl who did the ultrasound seemed inexperienced and nervous as she performed another trans-vaginal US on me. It was painful and nerve-wracking as she left the room several times because she was confused by what she was seeing. This caused our anxiety level to heighten even more and then we were sent home with only a simple "We'll have the doctor call you."
We drove the 20-minute commute home in silence and very fearful.
We got home and anxiously awaited the call from the doctor. Four hours later, the phone rang and we were asked to come back to the office so the doctor could see us.
Another long drive...
When the doctor finally came into the room where it seemed like we were waiting forever, she told us that I have what's called a blighted ovum.
An empty sac.
No baby.
This can't be right. But the doctor was sure of it based on the ultrasound done that morning. "I'm so sorry," she said. And then she went on to talk about a "simple" procedure called a D&C to "clean me out."
"No," I said. "I don't mean to be disrespectful but we were not comfortable with the ultrasound done this morning." We explained to her about the technician's insecure behavior. I demanded that we have another one done by a more experienced technician. The doctor had no problem with that and scheduled us to come back in for another one the next morning...at no charge. And she assured us that a more experienced technician would be there.
That was a long night for us.
The next morning, Eddie had to work so my mom went with me. This ultrasound was a very different experience. The technician found the baby right away. She was the size of a sweet pea. And we heard and saw the baby's heartbeat! It was the most amazing thing I'd ever seen. I said, "I knew it!" And my mom and I both cried. The technician said, "You are at 6 weeks and 2 days. That gives you a due date of October 27th." We were so relieved! I was no sooner out in the parking lot that I was calling Eddie at work to tell him the good news. He cried with relief and said, "Okay. Time to find a new doctor." I agreed.
After asking several friends and family members for advice on a new local doctor, we decided on one and called her office to make an appointment. The first few months went okay, although I had gone to the ER once more due to bleeding. Again, I was discharged with no concern. And our OB doctor was never concerned either. At every appointment with her, she would listen to the baby's heartbeat, ask me if I was having any issues and then would say, "See you in a month."
Throughout the pregnancy, I had lost a good deal of weight. That was from a lot of nausea in the first trimester and a careful diet due to Gestational Diabetes. I was feeling great by the time the end of the first trimester came around. At week 12, we saw our precious little one on the screen for the first time during an ultrasound at Magee Hospital in Pittsburgh. She was quite active in the womb and we were delighted. By week 14, the nausea was letting up and my energy level increased. Everything was going okay. It seemed like the second trimester was going to be a breeze. Eddie and I even went away for a few days to celebrate our first anniversary.
But on the second day of our anniversary trip, I was not feeling very well. We were at week 20 and I was feeling the baby kick for the first time. It was exciting, but so painful at the same time. By the time we got home that Tuesday, I almost dreaded the baby moving around because it hurt so bad...like the baby was kicking my cervix or something. But since I had no idea what to expect, I kept telling myself that it was probably normal.
I told myself, "try to stay calm" over and over again.
The next evening after our return home, Eddie and I met my parents and my sister and a friend for dinner. I could hardly eat. I was feeling a lot of pain and was nauseous. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I could sense it. But I tried to ignore it. We all went to Walmart after dinner and the more I walked around, the worse I felt. I went to the restroom and discovered that I had passed what I believed was my mucus plug. (Sorry for the yucky details, but as you women know, pregnancy is anything but glamorous...no matter how Hollywood tries to portray it!) So, off to the ER (again!) we went. Because I was so far along in the pregnancy, this time I was taken to the Labor and Delivery unit. And once again, I was discharged with no concern. Only that, even though I had been drinking a lot of water, I was a little dehydrated. So I was sent home with a full bladder after drinking a ton of water.
We went for our routine 20-week appointment to our OB the next day. She was not concerned about what had happened the previous evening and said, "That just happens sometimes. We don't know why." I expressed my concern about the pain I was feeling in my cervical area, but she said nothing. I asked her if we were going to have another ultrasound done in Pittsburgh and she said no. She wanted to save the ultrasounds for later in the pregnancy. We were quite confused by this. Most people I knew that were pregnant had one done at the 20th week. Plus, we were hoping to find out the gender of the baby. Even more, I REALLY wanted to have my cervix looked at. She sent us away thinking we were not having one done. But when we checked out at the front desk, we were given an appointment to have one done in Weirton (our local hospital) the following week. Confusing!!
When we left her office, we were both unsettled again. And I asked Eddie if he thought we should switch doctors again since we're so confused all the time. Every time we left this doctor's office, we never felt like our questions were being answered and we were always unsettled and confused. She was a woman of few words and I felt like every question we asked was answered with a blank "deer caught in headlights" look. Not a great way to experience your first pregnancy, if you ask me. Eddie also felt like that was what we needed to do, but we decided to give her another chance to see what happened after this next ultrasound.
Sadly, we had another awful experience with this ultrasound too. To save time, I won't go into details, but it was a very unorganized, frustrating appointment. We left there feeling uneasy and not confident that the staff knew what they were doing. And to top it off, it was discovered that my cervix had begun to open.
I COULD HAVE TOLD THEM THAT A WEEK AGO!
We wished that our OB doctor would have sent us to Magee Hospital like she did the first time, but we were completely helpless at this point.
Our doctor had put me on bed rest until further notice. When I talked to her on the phone three days later, she still had no plan of action: only that she was going to call a high risk doctor in Wheeling to examine me sometime in the next week. Why hadn't she called that doctor already?!
By the time we would see the high risk doctor, I had been feeling like something was wrong for more than two weeks now. I just felt like I wasn't being heard. And although the pain had subsided, now I had been passing A LOT of mucus every day for at least a week. That just couldn't be normal.
It was time for us to move on to doctor number three. We were so angry by this time. But doctor number three turned out to be much better. We should have gone there in the first place.
Doctor number three fit me into her busy schedule immediately and saw me the next morning after I called her. She needed some time to look over my history and wanted me to come back in two days. In the meantime, she scheduled us to go see a high risk doctor the following Wednesday.
Little did we know that we would never make it that far.
Wednesday, July 16, 2014
The Beginning of the End
Before I continue on with our story, first let me say:
1. I apologize if anyone reading this blog is uncomfortable with some of the blunt details regarding some of the physical aspects of this pregnancy. The reason I'm choosing to be graphic (as tastefully as I can) is because someone who is a first-time pregnant Mommy may be reading this and may be having similar issues. I wish I would have known what questions to ask or when to be concerned about an issue I was having when my doctor was being nonchalant about them. Unfortunately, my husband and I were helpless in our situation. Maybe this blog can help someone with similar problems know what to look for.
And 2. I am not casting blame on any doctor or facility, which is why I choose not to use their names. I am just describing our journey as it was to help readers gain a good perspective of what we went through. You just never know who it's going to help...
Okay, on with our story.
So, doctor #3 saw me again two days later after getting a chance to catch up on my history. This time, Eddie and my mom went with me. I told the doctor about the tremendous amount of mucus I was losing. She was concerned about that but said the high risk doctor we would see the following week would know more about that after doing a more thorough exam and level two ultrasound on me. She then began talking to us about the possibility of having a cerclage done on me to stitch up my cervix to keep it from opening.
Finally, someone was listening to us. We felt more at ease knowing that SOMETHING was going to be done...at last.
She then called in her partner, the other OBGYN in practice with her. And together, the five of us went into another room where both doctors were going to take a look at everything through an ultrasound.
Once she placed the wand on my belly, we saw our little girl jumping around, just like last time. It was so good to see her again. She looked so safe in there and didn't seem to have a worry in the world. That always made me feel better. All I wanted was for her to be okay.
Both doctors looked at every angle they could get to and agreed that everything looked good. When they looked at my cervix, they could not find any sign of it being opened. They said that if there was an opening, we would see a funnel-like image on the screen. We saw no such thing. They even gave me a huge glass of water to drink to fill my bladder up more to get a better view.
I drank the water. They came in about 10 minutes later.
Still no funnel.
But our baby girl looked beautiful. We even wanted to confirm that she was a girl, so the doctor moved the wand in a position that we could see her little bum. We could even see her little legs dangling!
We left the office feeling somewhat relieved, although we were still concerned about the mucus issue I was having. It was so nice to know that the doctors were listening to our concerns and were being proactive. Now we just had to wait and see what the high risk doctor would tell us in 5 days.
Doctor #3 still wanted me on bed rest...at least until we saw the high risk doctor. She didn't want me working at all and wanted me to stay at home as much as possible. She even gave me some materials to read at home about pregnancy, which included specific instructions for what level of bed rest I was directed to be on. I had never received any materials from our previous doctor. Thankfully I had books of my own to read at home. Oh, and did I mention that our last doctor never even explained to me what bed rest was? When I had asked her what that meant, she only replied that I need to keep my feet up. I asked her how long? She said that I could have them down for two hours a day.
So I went home and googled what bed rest meant.
New mom, remember?
I was very thankful when doctor #3 gave me a list of do's and don't's. The next day I barely moved from our living room recliner. But I was beginning to feel some cramping. I used my iPhone to google what contractions felt like. I came across an explanation of false labor pains, or Braxton Hicks contractions.
I decided that that's what must have been happening to me. I was only approaching our 23rd week. I couldn't be having real contractions, could I?
As the day went on, I became quite anxious about these "contractions" I was having. I called my mother-in-law and asked if she would come stay with me until Eddie got home from work. She was there within minutes. I told her that I was nervous about these pains I was having. When Eddie and I went to bed that night, we decided we would call the doctor in the morning.
However, I couldn't wait that long. Around midnight, I was still having the pains and I told Eddie that I was scared and wanted to call the doctor. So we did and she instructed me to go to the hospital...labor and delivery.
This was now emergency trip #4 to the hospital for this pregnancy.
When we got to labor and delivery, the contractions had eased up significantly. I was still having them, but they were less frequent and barely enough to be detected on the monitor they had me hooked up to. The nurse asked me what the pain level was on a scale of 1 to 10...10 being a truck running over my foot. I told her a 5.
But, again, the monitor showed nothing. "You've got me baffled, girl," the nurse said.
Go figure.
I was discharged a couple hours later with the nurses confused as to why I was even there.
But not as confused as I was.
I slept peacefully the rest of that night, with no pain at all. But the next day was a different story. By that afternoon, the pains were coming on a regular basis. By that evening, I was timing them and they were coming every 10 minutes. My parents and sister came over to bring some groceries and visit with Eddie and I for awhile. We were all worried.
After they left, Eddie and I went upstairs to get ready for bed. It was 10:00 pm and no sooner did I lay down in bed, WHAM! The pain came in one long, constant, agonizing wave. I was crying and curled up in extreme pain. I could barely get the words out:
"Eddie, please...call 911!"
I somehow managed to get out of my pj's and back into my tshirt and shorts when the ambulance showed up. That was the longest ride I've ever been on in my life. I screamed in agony all 15 miles of the drive to the hospital.
Emergency trip #5.
When they wheeled me into Labor and Delivery, I saw the familiar face of the nurse from the night before.
"It's a 10! It's a 10!" I screamed.
She knew exactly what I was referring to. The nurse sympathetically said, "Okay honey, hang on. We'll give you something for that pain very soon."
The next thing I knew, someone was checking my cervix.
"3 centimeters" was all I heard.
"What?! No! It's too soon!" I cried out. "Can't you give me something to stop it?! I read that you can give me something to stop labor!"
The nurse looked at me sadly and shook her head. "Hold on honey, your doctor is here."
The pain had stopped, but my panic was overwhelming. Then my doctor was standing at the foot of the bed. "There's nothing we can do, Carrie. I'm sorry."
All I could do was look at my mom, who had gotten there as quickly as she could after Eddie had called her. She said, "I think we need to go to Pittsburgh."
I looked at Eddie and he nodded with tears in his eyes.
I looked at my doctor. She said, "They won't be able to do anything there either." I closed my eyes and said, "I want to go to Pittsburgh."
The next ambulance ride was a very different one.
No pain.
No crying.
Just silence.
All I could think of as I stared at the bright ceiling of the inside of the ambulance was that it was very possible that the next time I go home, it could be without my baby.
Tuesday, July 15, 2014
Anna Danielle's Arrival
Monday, July 1, 2013
Approximately 2:00 am
From the time we arrived at the emergency room in Pittsburgh to the time they admitted me and wheeled me to the delivery room is mostly a blur for me.
The whole event was...and still is...so surreal to Eddie and I. I just told Eddie tonight as I am writing this that sometimes I have to look up at our fireplace mantle where we have all of the gifts, pictures and Memory Box in remembrance of Anna to remind me that it all really happened. That it wasn't just some horrific nightmare.
As I laid in the emergency room bed, I think I was in some state of shock from what was happening. I did not expect any of this and it seemed like the more the doctors and nurses told me, the more my mind shut down.
I didn't want to hear any of the things they were saying to us.
"You're dilated to 5 cm now."
"You will be delivering your baby soon."
"We'll keep you as comfortable as possible."
"There's nothing that can be done to stop your labor at this point."
"We can't resuscitate the baby unless she's at least 24 weeks. Her lungs just won't be developed enough to survive."
"I'm so sorry."
We were at 23 weeks and 1 day.
All I could do was stare at the doctor as she tried to explain to me what was happening...what was going to happen. I just couldn't accept all of this. It just couldn't be for real.
I do remember that I kept looking at Eddie, who stood there completely helpless, longing for him to tell me that everything was going to be okay. All that kept playing over and over in my mind was, "It's too soon. It's too soon. It's too soon."
Are You listening, Lord? It's too soon.
Please don't let us lose our baby.
Once they transferred me to the delivery room, it was pretty much a waiting game for 24 hours. They kept checking me and I stayed at 5 cm for the longest time. They kept waiting for my water to break, but it never did.
I had barely any pain all day Monday. And nothing was happening. I kept thinking that maybe they were all wrong and that I was going to get to go home...with the baby still in my womb. I would've laid still at home for 4 straight months if I had to in order to keep her with me.
And then the thought occurred to me: If I could just keep her in for a week or longer, then there would be a chance that she could survive. Help me keep her in, Lord.
So we waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
I was surrounded by a huge support system. Eddie wouldn't leave my side unless he knew that someone was with me so he could go lay down on the couch in the visitors waiting room to get a little sleep. My mom, dad, sister and two of my best friends (one was Anna's Godmother) were with us the whole time. I was never alone. The nursing staff was so impressed with the way my family and friends stayed by my side. What a blessing they were...
They sat with me, sang with me, prayed with me, fed me ice chips...and waited.
Anna's Godfather even stopped by after work that evening and brought Anna and I two beautiful peach roses. The priest from our Parish came to be with us for awhile in the afternoon. He prayed with us and even got to hear the baby's heartbeat.
The nurses kept checking the baby's heartbeat every couple hours. It was always strong. In the 150's.
The whole time, Anna kept dancing around inside of me...just as she had been throughout the entire pregnancy. She was such a mover. But this time, with each movement, I felt like she was trying to tell me that she was fine. Then my hope would rekindle that maybe we would get our miracle and take her back home with us, safe inside. We knew a lot of people were praying from our community. My facebook page was blowing up from all the encouraging messages of hope and prayer. Our Pastor told us that everyone at morning Mass was lifting us up in prayer.
Please, Lord, help me keep her in.
At some point in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, I moved to 7 cm and stayed that way until the day shift nurses arrived. But around 6:30 am, the contractions were coming hard and quickly. One minute apart.
7:30 am. 9 centimeters.
It was time.
We were not going to get our miracle.
Where are You, Lord? It's too soon.
Suddenly there was a whirlwind of activity around me. The room that had been quiet for over 24 hours was now filled with people. Doctors and nurses everywhere. Even a team from the NICU--just in case there was a chance that the baby could survive. Instruments and tools were being prepared for delivery. The room took a new shape as tables were being pulled out of what we thought were drawers. Bright lights were now shining down on me.
My mom was on my left side and Eddie was on my right, comforting me and encouraging me. The doctors were telling me it was time to push.
Where are You, Lord? It's too soon.
I pushed anyway. And at 7:57 am, on Tuesday, July 2, 2013, Anna Danielle Shultz came into this world without a sound. No crying, no screaming, as I had imagined in my mind when I would often daydream at home about how it would be to deliver my baby girl in October.
They cleaned her off as quickly as they could while the team of doctors were checking her. My mom was right there with them, and she put a little pink hat on her head. They then wrapped her in a blanket and my mom carried her over and handed her to Eddie while the doctors were finishing up with me. He then brought her over to me and laid her on my chest. I held her, shaking like a leaf.
She was absolutely beautiful.
Perfect in every way.
My mom and Eddie baptized her while I held her in my arms.
As Eddie traced the sign of the cross on her with holy water, together, we proclaimed: "Anna Danielle, I baptize you in the Name of the Father...and of the Son...and of the Holy Spirit."
Amen.
She was claimed for Christ.
She had taken only three breaths, but her heart was still beating. And every once in awhile I saw her move. She looked so peaceful. I was relieved knowing that she was not suffering. And it occurred to me that she would never suffer. Not for one moment. She would always be with our Lord in Heaven, singing with the angels instead of her mommy. No disappointments, no temper tantrums, no boo-boo's, no heartbreaks. Although I would give anything to be able to comfort her throughout all of those things.
My daughter will never suffer. She has only known love and will only know Love for eternity.
They let us hold her for as long as we wanted. When my dad, sister and my two best friends came in, we all took turns holding her. The nurse on duty took some beautiful pictures of her with us. When they measured her, she was 1 pound, 3.3 ounces and 11 1/2 inches long. She had beautiful, long fingers...which I imagined would have been perfect for playing the piano. Her fingernails and toenails were developed beautifully. The first thing Eddie noticed was that she had my nose. A turned up little nose, like Mommy has always had.
And she did. She looked so much like me. I was in complete awe of her.
What a miracle.
As I gazed at her with love and admiration, I felt the Lord's presence so intensely. He was right there. With us all along. And I knew that He had Anna safe in His arms, even as we held her frail little body.
And He always will.
Approximately 2:00 am
From the time we arrived at the emergency room in Pittsburgh to the time they admitted me and wheeled me to the delivery room is mostly a blur for me.
The whole event was...and still is...so surreal to Eddie and I. I just told Eddie tonight as I am writing this that sometimes I have to look up at our fireplace mantle where we have all of the gifts, pictures and Memory Box in remembrance of Anna to remind me that it all really happened. That it wasn't just some horrific nightmare.
As I laid in the emergency room bed, I think I was in some state of shock from what was happening. I did not expect any of this and it seemed like the more the doctors and nurses told me, the more my mind shut down.
I didn't want to hear any of the things they were saying to us.
"You're dilated to 5 cm now."
"You will be delivering your baby soon."
"We'll keep you as comfortable as possible."
"There's nothing that can be done to stop your labor at this point."
"We can't resuscitate the baby unless she's at least 24 weeks. Her lungs just won't be developed enough to survive."
"I'm so sorry."
We were at 23 weeks and 1 day.
All I could do was stare at the doctor as she tried to explain to me what was happening...what was going to happen. I just couldn't accept all of this. It just couldn't be for real.
I do remember that I kept looking at Eddie, who stood there completely helpless, longing for him to tell me that everything was going to be okay. All that kept playing over and over in my mind was, "It's too soon. It's too soon. It's too soon."
Are You listening, Lord? It's too soon.
Please don't let us lose our baby.
Once they transferred me to the delivery room, it was pretty much a waiting game for 24 hours. They kept checking me and I stayed at 5 cm for the longest time. They kept waiting for my water to break, but it never did.
I had barely any pain all day Monday. And nothing was happening. I kept thinking that maybe they were all wrong and that I was going to get to go home...with the baby still in my womb. I would've laid still at home for 4 straight months if I had to in order to keep her with me.
And then the thought occurred to me: If I could just keep her in for a week or longer, then there would be a chance that she could survive. Help me keep her in, Lord.
So we waited.
And waited.
And waited some more.
I was surrounded by a huge support system. Eddie wouldn't leave my side unless he knew that someone was with me so he could go lay down on the couch in the visitors waiting room to get a little sleep. My mom, dad, sister and two of my best friends (one was Anna's Godmother) were with us the whole time. I was never alone. The nursing staff was so impressed with the way my family and friends stayed by my side. What a blessing they were...
They sat with me, sang with me, prayed with me, fed me ice chips...and waited.
Anna's Godfather even stopped by after work that evening and brought Anna and I two beautiful peach roses. The priest from our Parish came to be with us for awhile in the afternoon. He prayed with us and even got to hear the baby's heartbeat.
The nurses kept checking the baby's heartbeat every couple hours. It was always strong. In the 150's.
The whole time, Anna kept dancing around inside of me...just as she had been throughout the entire pregnancy. She was such a mover. But this time, with each movement, I felt like she was trying to tell me that she was fine. Then my hope would rekindle that maybe we would get our miracle and take her back home with us, safe inside. We knew a lot of people were praying from our community. My facebook page was blowing up from all the encouraging messages of hope and prayer. Our Pastor told us that everyone at morning Mass was lifting us up in prayer.
Please, Lord, help me keep her in.
At some point in the wee hours of Tuesday morning, I moved to 7 cm and stayed that way until the day shift nurses arrived. But around 6:30 am, the contractions were coming hard and quickly. One minute apart.
7:30 am. 9 centimeters.
It was time.
We were not going to get our miracle.
Where are You, Lord? It's too soon.
Suddenly there was a whirlwind of activity around me. The room that had been quiet for over 24 hours was now filled with people. Doctors and nurses everywhere. Even a team from the NICU--just in case there was a chance that the baby could survive. Instruments and tools were being prepared for delivery. The room took a new shape as tables were being pulled out of what we thought were drawers. Bright lights were now shining down on me.
My mom was on my left side and Eddie was on my right, comforting me and encouraging me. The doctors were telling me it was time to push.
Where are You, Lord? It's too soon.
I pushed anyway. And at 7:57 am, on Tuesday, July 2, 2013, Anna Danielle Shultz came into this world without a sound. No crying, no screaming, as I had imagined in my mind when I would often daydream at home about how it would be to deliver my baby girl in October.
They cleaned her off as quickly as they could while the team of doctors were checking her. My mom was right there with them, and she put a little pink hat on her head. They then wrapped her in a blanket and my mom carried her over and handed her to Eddie while the doctors were finishing up with me. He then brought her over to me and laid her on my chest. I held her, shaking like a leaf.
She was absolutely beautiful.
Perfect in every way.
My mom and Eddie baptized her while I held her in my arms.
As Eddie traced the sign of the cross on her with holy water, together, we proclaimed: "Anna Danielle, I baptize you in the Name of the Father...and of the Son...and of the Holy Spirit."
Amen.
She was claimed for Christ.
She had taken only three breaths, but her heart was still beating. And every once in awhile I saw her move. She looked so peaceful. I was relieved knowing that she was not suffering. And it occurred to me that she would never suffer. Not for one moment. She would always be with our Lord in Heaven, singing with the angels instead of her mommy. No disappointments, no temper tantrums, no boo-boo's, no heartbreaks. Although I would give anything to be able to comfort her throughout all of those things.
My daughter will never suffer. She has only known love and will only know Love for eternity.
They let us hold her for as long as we wanted. When my dad, sister and my two best friends came in, we all took turns holding her. The nurse on duty took some beautiful pictures of her with us. When they measured her, she was 1 pound, 3.3 ounces and 11 1/2 inches long. She had beautiful, long fingers...which I imagined would have been perfect for playing the piano. Her fingernails and toenails were developed beautifully. The first thing Eddie noticed was that she had my nose. A turned up little nose, like Mommy has always had.
And she did. She looked so much like me. I was in complete awe of her.
What a miracle.
As I gazed at her with love and admiration, I felt the Lord's presence so intensely. He was right there. With us all along. And I knew that He had Anna safe in His arms, even as we held her frail little body.
And He always will.
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