3 Weeks Later...The Story...

Three weeks ago today, our tiny little Solveig was born. The time has gone by so quickly and there are so many moments when it really feels like she just came yesterday. Last night as I was laying in bed, I couldn't help but remember where I had been three weeks prior...laying in a hospital bed, waiting for our little girl to make her arrival. As I talked with Erik about it, I told him that it was so different than the arrivals of our other babies...for this time we weren't awaiting a live baby, but rather a dead one. We were waiting to hold in our arms the little love whose spirit had already slipped quickly into Heaven a few days prior. That feeling of knowing that her spirit was already gone was so prominent for me - I truly could feel the absence of her life, besides the fact that she wasn't moving. Her shell was with me still and I longed to hold her. That night of waiting was one of the longest in my life. It felt like forever as we waited for my body to fully go into labor, but in reality it really wasn't that long. Here's the timeline leading up to the arrival of Solveig as best I can recount:

Monday, February 20th - My regularly scheduled NST and Ultrasound appointments at the clinic. I was a regular, going in weekly for extra testing due to my blood clotting disorder and needing to monitor more closely for clots in the pregnancy.

Thursday, February 23rd - I felt around 200 tiny rapid movements in succession from the baby...but they weren't hiccups. I know what hiccups feel like. To this day, I wish I had at that moment called the clinic about this. But I didn't want to be the "worried mom" who shows up all the time. I'm forever different about that and will never again worry about being the worried mom. (And I'm trying to let go and forgive myself for not calling...because I cannot change the course of events...) And to this day, I'm convinced that those little rapid movements may very well have been a huge part of Solveig's demise. After talking with some nurses and with my Dr. L, I feel that those movements were perhaps part of a seizure. If indeed they were part of a seizure, even if we had gotten to Solveig in time, maybe her well being was already so compromised...maybe she was brain dead already...we just don't know, and we will not know until we get to Heaven and can ask the Lord all about it.

Friday, February 24th - I went about the day and was incredibly busy. That night, around midnight, I realized that I hadn't really felt Solveig move all day. I told Erik and I was very worried. In fact, I went into a panic attack because I was convinced that she was gone. I just knew. Mother's have instincts. And maybe that was kicking in...and maybe God was telling me too...but I just knew something was wrong. However, as I lay awake for the next three hours worried beyond belief, I kept praying, "Lord, please let me know if my baby is okay. Please help her to move. Please keep her safe. Please God, please give me peace." Finally, around 3:30 am on Saturday morning, I felt Solveig move just a tiny bit. It felt like she was tickling me or scratching me with her tiny fingers - letting me know that she was there. She did that about five times. And that was the last that I felt of her...

Saturday, February 25th - We went about our day, because of how I had felt her move in the night and thought perhaps she was okay...so we went on...and around dinner time, I felt Solveig shift inside of me, so I thought to myself, "oh, okay. She moved. Great." Looking back, that very well may have just been my body moving her around.

Sunday, February 26th - We went to church. I had such a pit in my gut. I knew that something was so off, but I wasn't fully acknowledging it yet. And I wanted so desperately to believe that my baby girl was still okay. I kept searching and hoping for any signs of movement. There were to be no more. I felt no movement all day. We did life all day with our kids. I made dinner. And then I said to Erik, "We need to go to the hospital. I just need to make sure that she's okay. I need to know that things are alright." And there was some sense of peace in finally making that decision and finally going forth with our trip to the hospital to be evaluated. Even though I had a foreboding knowledge that something was wrong, I was glad to at least be in the right place, finally.

At around 6pm or so, we got somewhat settled in what felt like such a sterile and stark environment. Everything felt so dark to me. I felt so ill in my stomach. The nurses came in and tried to find the heartbeat with the NST and they were not able to. That in itself felt like an eternity. Then they got Dr. M who I knew from the clinic, and she came in with the ultrasound machine. I could barely see the picture on the screen because of how everything was positioned in the room, but I was so anxious and so worried...and then I saw what every parent does NOT want to see and is NOT prepared for...my precious baby girl and her vacant heart. After seeing such a vibrant, pulsating flow of blood and little valves working splendidly just days prior at her last ultrasound at 33 weeks, I was in shock to see absolutely nothing...just an empty little heart. It was the worst moment of my life. Dr. M, with tears in her eyes, looked at me and Erik and said, "I'm so sorry. There is no heart beat." We wept and held each other, and the primal cries of parents who have lost their precious child poured forth...and my amazing Erik said to me, "Melody, she's with Jesus. She's in the arms of Jesus now." And he held me for a very long time...

Dr. M comforted us in such a beautiful way. We had an amazing conversation and I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was so of the Lord that she could be there with us that evening. Thank you, Dr. M. You were and are such a blessing.

We went home in complete and utter shock and devastation, as we decided that it would be best for our psyche's to be able to prepare more mentally, emotionally and physically for an induced delivery within a couple of days.

Immediately songs began to fill my head...and I started planning for the funeral which would come all too soon...

To be continued...