My third, and what I was hoping to be my final, pregnancy was beautiful in every way. I was always an active Preggo momma and continued this through my third pregnancy with walking, riding bikes and yoga. My first 2 pregnancies were also active and easy, leaving my body in pretty good shape and with healthy natural births. With just a few stretch marks here and there to complement the easy loving children who came with them. I was heading into my 38th week of pregnancy and preparing for a homebirth with a midwife who seemed to be just wonderful and perfect to accompany us. Again my body was holding up so well and I was always happy that each of my children left me with just a few battle scars. Oct. 27th I had a MW appointment and was gaining steadily, baby was ready for arrival and I was happy to only have acquired another 3 or 4 stretch marks with the 45 lb. gain on my 5’2” frame. Little did I know the next day would leave me with one of the hardest scars to accept. I awoke at 5 am, on Oct. 28th, and was instantly worried because my little bean wasn’t waking me up like she usually did at 3 am doing jumping jacks. I waited it out till about 7 am and was only getting small shifts. I called my MW and received no answer so I called the OBGYN I was also working with through my pregnancy. The nurse called me back about 930 am and told me to head on up to the hospital. My MW was still no where to be found as she is even to this day. I went in and at about 1030 am I was called back to have a NST. The sweet sound of my little beans Heartbeat was beautiful and a normal 141. My husband showed up about 10 minutes later and we sat and listened to the sweet thumping sounds coming from the little machine next to me. Suddenly, as if the world stopped, her heartbeat did too going from 141, to 80 , 40, 80……gone. That little machine then turned into the worst little machine I had ever seen when it started alarming to warn us that my baby was in distress. The Dr. took me to L&D where I was stripped, gassed and cut open. The very last thing I remember was my baby moving one last time in me to say goodbye before she headed on up into the Lords arms. I awoke 4 hours later to the most excruciating pain and life shattering news that I was cut open, robbed of my soul and left scarred and empty armed. I have a scar now stretching 8 inches across my abdomen reminding me on a daily basis that I have an angel in heaven, just waiting for me to join her some day, thanks to the grace of the good Lord. I try daily to accept this scar as a reminder of Gods grace and promise that some day I will see my little angel Stella again.
~Number of pregnancies and births: 3 pregnancies, 2 live births
~The age of your children, or how far postpartum you are: 12, 4, 6 months post partum from my angel baby’s birth