CARE Fertility Bulletin Board

Marshmallow · 05 Jun 2006

Our little girl, Katharine Anne, was born asleep on 25th June and we miss her so very much. She was born at 36+6 at 6.45pm and just looked so perfect and beautiful.

She was conceived on our third attempt after many years of striving to become parents so her loss is particularly difficult to bear. Our little girl was a frozen embryo, created in the late summer of 2006, and so had already overcome being frozen and defrosted. We at least have the consolation that we were able to “meet” her when she was only 3 cells old. The two weeks before I took my pregnancy test were back then the longest two weeks of my life but, on Remembrance Sunday, I did a pregnancy test and found out I was pregnant for the first time ever, at the ripe old age of 38!

I had a particularly easy pregnancy too, only a few weeks of queasiness and only a couple of days of actual sickness, my health actually improved drastically whilst I was pregnant. I was eating healthily, my blood pressure was always perfect, my blood test results were always spot on and everyone commented I was blossoming.

My only concern was my feet swelled heavily during the latter stages of my working, but all the usual points for concern about pre-eclampsia were ok so despite my midwife keeping a close eye on the swelling, I was doing well.

I had a number of scans, the first at around 7 weeks to confirm there was a heartbeat when our little darling looked just like a Haribo sweetie, then another at just before 13 weeks when she looked absolutely perfect, with a beautiful profile, one at 21 weeks and another at 30 weeks at the hospital, and my husband and I paid for a 4D scan at 26 weeks (which I am so glad I did now). We got to meet our child a little more with each scan (we didn’t want to know the sex) and grew to love our growing little one on each occasion we “met” her.

I finished work on 11th June and settled down to the final few weeks of preparation, making up the crib and Moses basket stand, washing little outfits and bedding, and basically pottering around doing nothing too strenuous, and we were both becoming more and more impatient to meet our little one.

However I began to experience what I thought were Braxton Hicks contractions and pain in my pelvis, and when I queried these with my midwife she said these were to be expected as my baby’s head was now engaged and I should prepare my hospital bag as things could happen at any time.

I had been to the hospital once already at around 33 weeks as I thought my baby wasn’t moving as much as it should have been, but was reassured that all was well after being monitored.

However, during the evening of Tuesday 24th June I began to become concerned as I couldn’t feel my baby moving at all. I rubbed my bump and usually when I did this I would feel a gentle “roll”, but nothing happened so I was worried but just assumed that my little one was sleeping as I had been led to understand that babies do become much more quiet during the latter stages of pregnancy, in readiness for birth.

By the middle of the night however I was really anxious, and as soon as I woke up on Wednesday morning I tried using my hand-held Doppler to get my baby’s heartbeat to reassure myself. My baby’s heart rate was usually around 155bpm but I could find nothing at all, not even my own heart beat. I therefore panicked and rang the hospital straight away, to be advised to come straight in. I threw on my clothes, grabbed my notes and a couple of baby grows from the washing pile, and my husband drove us through to the hospital, him telling me not to panic. That journey, even though it was only 3 miles, was the longest of my life.

When we arrived at hospital they took me through to a room where they put a heart monitor on me and they could only find one reading of about 110bpm. At first they tried to reassure me but called through a doctor and when he could only find one reading I knew the worst thing that could ever happen had happened. We had lost our darling baby.

They then brought through an ultrasound machine and as soon as they began you could see the chambers of my baby’s heart were still. There was no movement at all. My husband was distraught, but I had already come to accept the fact that my baby was gone. We had to wait however for a Sonographer to come on duty to confirm that we had lost our child. Two hours later we had it confirmed and we were then led through to the Delivery Suite and into the Quiet Room.

The Midwife came through and explained what would happen next. I would be induced and would have to go through labour and deliver my poor little child.

I was given a tablet and then, about 40 minutes later, was swabbed and then given the two pessaries to induce me. They switched on the TV to distract me, but all I had going through my head was the question “why”. Why us? What had we done to deserve this? What had I done wrong? What had I missed? We had done everything by the book, I was eating healthily, attended every appointment necessary, was taking my vitamin supplements, so why was this happening?

The pains began after less than 40 minutes, a constant severe aching, a period-pain like I’d never experienced before, never coming in crampy waves like I expected labour would be like, but never-ending pain. When I was given my second dose of pessaries at 2.00pm I was sick immediately. I continued to be sick right up until delivery, despite them giving me an injection to stop me from vomiting. They moved me through to room 7 where I was to deliver at around 3.15pm, and my husband rushed home to pick up a change of clothes and my nightwear as all I had was what I was wearing when we went to the hospital that morning. I was shaking violently, I’m not sure whether this was the shock of the events or whether I was cold as by this point I was just numb to everything, apart from the terrific pain I was in.

Whilst my husband was home I felt a pop and then a release of fluid. I wasn’t sure if it was my mucus plug or that my waters had broken. This was at 4.00pm. I called the Midwife through and as soon as I looked down at the pad I was laying on I saw the meconium. My darling little baby had been distressed enough to have a poo and I hadn’t even known she was hurting and struggling. I had assumed that the fluttering sensations I’d had around my belly button two days ago was her moving around, when it could have been her desperate attempts to attract me to something being terribly wrong.

My pain then began to get increasingly worse, and despite my having diamorphine and gas and air, I was enveloped in excruciating pain which nothing could alleviate.

My husband returned and stayed with me throughout the rest of the time, clinging onto my hand and stroking my hair and trying to reassure me despite him being petrified and upset at what was happening to us both. He was and is such a tower of strength and my love for him just grows stronger and stronger.

I cannot remember the time I began to push but remember my heartbeat drumming in my ears so loudly I thought I was going to die. I was pushing and pushing for all I was worth. I didn’t really feel I was in the room, I was strangely detached from myself. I was exhausted, in excruciating pain and so very, very thirsty.

When she was delivered I remember the midwife telling me we had got a little girl and she cut the cord and wrapped her in a towel after wiping some of the meconium off her, and then placed her on my chest. My darling little girl was perfect, tiny, beautiful and looked so peaceful and calm. We stayed cuddling her for over an hour, the midwives leaving us together in peace. Her little hands had long artistic fingers, her little nose having nostrils like mine, her rosebud mouth slightly open, and I just fell in love straight away with my poor little one. I just wanted to protect her, to make her warm and safe. I kissed her fingers and her little head, stroking her dark hair, curling her fingers across mine, holding her close wanting to breathe life into her. She was so beautiful and defenceless, so precious and fragile.

My husband then cuddled her, and sobbed and sobbed as I stroked his hair. Why had this happened to us when all we had ever wanted was to be a family? We have so much love to give this little girl and it was so cruelly robbed from us. Our home was ready to receive this little one, but she would never come here. Her room was almost ready, the nursery furniture was due to have been delivered that day and my husband had to cancel the delivery as he was with me whilst our poor child was born. Our garden would never ring with her laughter, our house would be devoid of her presence. She was such a part of our lives despite our never having met her before that hour, and the devastation of her loss will remain with us for ever.

We called the midwife back into the room so she could wash her, as I was afraid I may hurt our little darling. The midwife weighed her and she was 5lb 10oz, she measured her head and length and we then had an opportunity to take some photographs of her. Her skin was beginning to bubble and blister and I was afraid that I would damage her if I attempted to bathe her myself. After her bath she was dressed in one of the baby grows I had grabbed that morning, and placed in a Moses basket. I was then led through to the shower room and almost collapsed. I took my shower, attempting to wash the blood away which was pouring from me, and then I changed into new clothes and was led through to the Quiet Room again. Exhausted and drained, we were offered food and I attempted to eat but just felt it was a futile gesture to eat anything when my world was at an end. All I could do was look at my little girl, stroke her, kiss her and cry. Eventually sleep came.

I kept waking in the night, and by 3am I was so distraught again the midwife gave me a temazepam tablet to help me sleep, and so I managed to rest again until around 6am when I awoke and looked across at my darling and she was so, so cold and her little lips had started to go black. Her nose, a perfect little nose, was so pink and her hands and fingers felt so dry and cold.

The midwife came back through and was in tears herself, she too agreeing that our little girl was beautiful and perfect. She advised that she had contacted the hospital’s vicar in order that Kitty could be blessed that morning. We therefore went ahead with the short blessing ceremony and prayers were said, Kitty was blessed and a candle was lit for her.

We then had to wait for the Consultant to see us to go over the post-mortem documentation, which was an ordeal in itself. We needed answers but were warned that none might be forthcoming. The amount of information we were provided with during the night of Kitty‘s birth and the following day was overwhelming and we felt blown. Surely they can give you the information in a more gentle fashion and not bombard you with everything in one go, as you are in such shock after what has just happened and also drugged up to they eyeballs too.

After seeing the Consultant we then had to do the hardest thing any parent ever should do, and that is to leave their child. I couldn’t bear to be parted from my little girl, and felt so empty as we left the room, and then the hospital. All around were pregnant women either in labour or going for antenatal visits, and here I was, totally empty and distraught.

We arrived home and just sat numbly in our living room. Attempts were made at conversation but this was stilted. Then the telephone rang. An infection had been discovered in one of the blood cultures and I was to go straight back to the hospital with an overnight bag in order for me to have IV antibiotics for 24 hours, and my husband could come along and stay with me, but we were to have something to eat and then go back in.

Not knowing whether this was the cause of Kitty’s death, we therefore ate straight away, me having just a mouthful of food, and then we drove back to the hospital as the heavens opened. It seemed as though the whole day was crying for our loss.

We arrived at the hospital only to be shown straight into the room where, not more than 24 hours before, I had given birth to my little angel. It was the most awful experience walking through those doors again, to look at the bed where I had gone through agony, to look over at the clock on the wall to see the time coming up to the exact hour when she was born. We were left there for over an hour, my husband becoming more and more angry that we had been abandoned in that room of all places. A midwife came through and took my blood pressure and temperature, then said that I was not her patient and left us again. We waited there for another hour and eventually a doctor came and informed us that it was Kitty’s cord blood that had grown an infection, the streptococcus infection, and that they only wanted me back to take a further blood sample to see whether I had got the same infection. My husband was so very angry that we had not been fully informed when we arrived, that we had been shown into the very room where I had given birth 24 hours before, that we had been abandoned for over 2 hours only to be told they needed some blood from me.

The apologised repeatedly and then showed me through to the Quiet Room again where they took my blood sample and then we were free to leave.

Since that horrible day I have tried to remain strong for Kitty’s sake. My husband has been a tower of strength and we have gained strength from our love for each other and our love for our daughter. We take heart from the fact that we are a mummy and daddy to a beautiful little girl, that she is perfect and no-one can ever take away the fact that we have got a daughter. We find ourselves comforting visitors who have come to offer their condolences. We are taking each day at a time, each hour at a time, each minute at a time. We are strong though, and it has made us all the more determined to look forward to the future with a positive attitude that we can and will achieve the dream of having further children as we have had such a beautiful child already. We will continue to look forward, knowing that our daughter is watching over us and guiding us towards a better way.

We now have a date for her funeral, which will be on Tuesday 15th July, 2 days before she was due to be born. We are buying her a princess dress to wear, and it is heartbreaking that her first ever dress will be her only dress. We didn't know whether we would be having a boy or a girl, so had only bought babygrows etc, and so we now have the task of purchasing an outfit for an occasion we never dreamed we would ever have to do.

Life can be so cruel. I lost my father 8 years ago on 1st July, so have never liked this time of year since then, and tomorrow is my birthday. Yet again I am opening condolence cards and birthday cards at the same time. I don't want to celebrate my birthday at all, as it is just a reminder of the passing of time and my age is a reminder of my reducing fertility, but we are determined to go forward with hope and strength which Kitty's short existence has given us.

I do believe our story will have a happy ending as we have fought so hard and will continue to strive to achieve our hopes and dreams, in Kitty’s name.

Thank you for taking the time to read this and I apologise if its contents are upsetting, but it is an honest account of how I feel at the moment.

Marshmallow xxx

Fiona Ha · 26 Aug 2004

Marshmallow,
I'm so dreadfully sorry for your loss. Your post is soo filled with love, in spite of your loss. If the world were fair, Kitty would be in your arms now. I'm sure she is with you in spirit and knows how much she's loved. Hardly a day goes by where you and your dh aren't in my thoughts. Sending you love and strength to cope with your difficult journey, and thanks for telling us your birth story , love Fiona xx

Reds(1703) · 20 Sep 2005

I wish I could say something to help you through this sad time, but everything I think of seems useless. I hope that Kitty's funeral goes as well as it possibly can (that sounds so stupid, please forgive my clumsiness).

I wish you both much love for the future.

lol
Reds
xx

sara c · 07 Jun 2004

Hi,

I am so dreadfully sorry that you have had to go through this hun. I have already replied to you on BB&B. As I said on that thread we too lost our little boy Morgan who was born sleeping on 30th December 2000 after not feeling him move.

I could have wrote so much of your post myself. Our stories are so very similar other than the fact that I am sure Morgan died on Boxing day, I was sent to the hospital the day after, and after been informed like you with a scan that our precious baby had died we were sent home for 36hours before they would induce me. This was our worse time as people didn't know and I was sat at home with my dead baby still inside of me. I delivered Morgan at Jessops Hospital in Sheffield and in both rooms next to me other mums were in labour and giving birth to live babies, it was terrible. They have since changed this and now there is a seperate unit for such births.

I remember everything that happened in those few days and the feeling like you said of having to walk out of hospital without our baby. I remember the nurse asking if we had everything with us and I can still hear my husband saying "Yes everything but our son". I am in tears just thinking about that. Morgans funeral was on 8th January, it was a beautiful service but we were in bits, as you can imagine.

Unfortunately life goes on hun and for many people after the funeral their lives get back to normal, our stayed still for a very long time. I just want to wish you well and let you know that I will be thinking about you next week and repeat that if you want to contact me you are more than welcome.

On a happier note we now have a little boy called Callum who was a frozen embryo from the same cycle as Morgan. You will get there hun I am sure of it and you will alwasy have the precious memories of the time you spent with your beautiful little daughter Kitty.

Wishing you both well, take care of each other.

LOL sara c xx

*MichelleJ* · 28 Mar 2006

Words just aren't enough..

Sending you both love and strength.. you are in my prayers constantly.

Michelle
xxxx

alimac · 02 Jun 2005

Bless your heart....I'm in tears reading. It always seems so cruel to me that ladies have to go through with a natural birth, but I'm sure there are good reasons for it.

You do sound amazingly strong, but remember you don't need to be strong all the time hun.

I just know you will have another child, even though you will never ever forget dear little Kitty. Please try not to get too worried about your age. I was 42 before I managed to have my little boy, and that was after 10 years trying and 3 miscarriages - nothing compared to what you've had to face though.

You have many many friends on here and every single one of us will be praying for you.

Ali xxxx

dianeuk · 17 Nov 2004

you have been so through so much in a short space of time, im also in tears readin what you had to go thro and the loss of your baby girl, life is so unfair

much love to you all

Isobel · 25 Apr 2004

Your story has made me cry, again. I can't believe what you have gone through, it's so tragic. I can't begin to imagine what pain you must be enduring.

My recollection of the early days of bereavement (lost my brother age 19), were of having times when I felt OK, almost normal, sometimes bizarrely positive about life. Then a minute later the pain would strike again, like a ton of bricks, as if it was a new bereavement every time. It's a horrible horrible time.

I truly believe you will go on to have another baby, and one day life will be good again.

Thinking of you

Isobel xx

Lazyhayes · 28 Jun 2006

My heart really does hurt for you and your family, what you have experienced is truly heartbreaking and I am heartbroken for you, I am truly sorry for the loss of Kitty, I will pray for you and Kitty, god bless xx

Marshmallow · 05 Jun 2006

Thank you everyone for your responses, they are really comforting.

I am trying to keep myself as busy as possible, not wanting to think about what the next week will bring. I'm still unable to potter around the house and garden as I'm still recouperating following the birth, so am just going stir crazy thinking of what happened, so if I'm doing something practical within my physical limitations then I at least feel I'm achieving something. Therefore, I've contacted the Clinic to ask what further blood tests we will require before starting treatment again as I had Level 1 bloods taken back in 2006 and am sure that the results shown up back then had an influence on what happened with Kitty. I was diagnosed with a clotting problem, and was injecting daily with Clexane up to 13 weeks, but now wonder if I should have carried on throughout my pregnancy. Luckily our wonderful midwife has spoken to our GP Practice and they have agreed to fund the cost of further screening bloods when we get back from our holidays. The Clinic have provided me with copies of the previous blood test results so I have forwarded these on to the Hospital so hopefully the Consultant will be able to look at these and the Post Mortem results for Kitty and hopefully some questions may be answered from these.

Sara, my heart goes out to you. How terrible being left so long before being induced. It is just heartbreaking thinking you had to carry such a terrible burden for so long, in a way I am relieved I only had a matter of hours knowing Kitty was no longer with us, and am thankful in a way that they chose to induce me so quickly. I know that no child can ever replace your first born little boy, but I am sure his little brother brings you so much joy and light to your lives. You are an inspiration that we to will be able to have such joy again.

Take care everyone

Marshmallow xxx

Mel · 16 Mar 2000

I am so sorry for your loss, life is so cruel and to be dealt this blow on top of years of ttc is extra cruel.

Good luck with your future tx, I'm sure you will have a brother or sister for little Kitty.

Love
Mel x

Grace X · 29 Sep 2005

Dear Marshmallow

I am so sorry about the loss of your beautiful baby girl and have had to endure so much pain. I lost my baby boy just half an hour after he was born. Not a day goes by when I wonder why, what happened, why us. He was healthy right up until he was born (a delivery injury which apparently if he was born by caesarian this wouldn't have happened so I constantly blame myself. He was a twin and his little brother is healthy so everything is so bitter sweet, beginning with the congratulations/condolence cards and then its an ongoing daily thing when I see him playing on his own.

I truly hope you go on to have another lovely baby who so deserves to have you both as parents. Please feel free to email me if you think it might help - brabbetts@btopenworld.com (I live in Chesterfield).

I think of you often.

LouisaE · 09 Apr 2002

Marshmallow

You have done well to write down everything that happened before and after the sad loss of Kitty. It bought back our whole experience of going to hospital with a child and leaving without one and I can understand how totally devastated you are feeling.

I am impressed by your positivity, and the obvious love you and your DH have for each other.

I hope the funeral goes as well as can be expected. Funnily enough I did not find this as hard as being back at home in a quiet house that should have been home to 3 of us, instead of 2.

Thinking of you and sending you big hugs.

Lx

gh · 03 Apr 2005

Dear Marshmallow,

I have to confess I read your post earlier and left without responding because I couldnt think of anything to say which seemed worthy of your beautiful post. You write so eloquently about your loss and your sheer love for Kitty comes through with every word.

You are an amazing lady and you will be a fantastic mummy, not only to Kitty, one day. I'm sure of it.

With much love,

gh xx

princess · 27 Sep 2005

Marshmellow, you are such a strong mummy to be able to write what you have just written, u will always be a mummy to Kitty and will be a mummy again Im sure of it, you are so determined and so positive. life is so cruel sometimes.

Rest in peace Kitty Anne ur such a lucky girl having a Mummy and Daddy that love you as much as yours do.

with all my deepest love and best wishes for the future H xxx

vonny · 01 May 2006

Marshmallow & DH,

I would so love to hug you both and take away your pain. You write about your little Kitty so beautifully, thank you for sharing this with us; we all feel the pain of her not being here today.

You are right, the rain was the day crying for your loss, but when the rain comes again and brings with it a beautiful Rainbow think of it as your Kitty smiling down on you from heaven as she holds hands with her Grandad.

When my child left me in the ninth week I found it helped to write my feelings down as you have done. Keep writing.

with love
Vonny
xx

Red Badger · 20 Sep 2006

Alex,

I did as GH and read yesterday but what can you say. I think it is very brave of you to write down the events as you have, you are truly a special person.

Vonny, I too remember thinking that God was crying for the loss of Kitty both the day she was born and the day we found out. Your thought about the rainbow is beautiful and has me in tears yet again.

(((((HUGS)))))

Sara xxxxxxxx

Hopeful1 · 24 Jun 2008

Marshmellow

What an amazing person you are and your DH sounds just as amazing.

Your story brought tears to my eyes, you sound like such a positive person and the love between you and DH is obviously so strong.

Big hugs to you.

xx

City Chic · 15 Aug 2005

Keep strong.

City Chic x x

cary · 27 Sep 2006

Marshmallow

There are no words possible to take away your pain. The love and support you and DH have is amazing.

Big hugs to you both

Cary x

Deano · 20 Nov 2005

Alex hun, your post is so beautifully written, both DH and I read it in tears. I am going to my parents in York on Sunday and we shall light a candle for Kitty in the Minster. Will be thinking about you on Tuesday. You know we are always here for you and if you want to talk just give me a call anytime.

With love
Helen xx

AliceS · 19 Feb 2007

Marshmallow,
So sorry to hear of your precious little Kitty, I know we don't know one another, thinking of you at this difficult time

Love Alice xx

*KathyH* · 28 Feb 2006

My deepest sympathy to you and your DH Marshmallow .... there are no words to describe the pain that you are feeling and everyone on the BB is feeling for you .... life is so very, very cruel. My brother died when he was a year old, and my Mum has always believed that "God takes the best ....."

My heart goes out to you both and your little angel Kitty.

Will be thinking of you on Tuesday - be strong ....

God bless hun

Kathy xx

Lilibet · 30 Nov 2002

Alex & DH, Mark & I just want to send you so much love & strength, there are no words I cant find to comfort you, you are both amazing, real fighters! You made a beautiful little girl together, she will always be your first born precious girl & there will be another beautiful baby for you Im sure.

Liz & Mark xxx

BobbieB · 07 Feb 2008

I just don't know what to say, I'm sat here in tears too. You're in my thoughts and I'm so sorry for what you're been through and are going through. You do sound incredibily strong and brave and Kitty will be proud.

Take care

Love Diane x