Our youngest,Tim, was just 7 months old when I suspected that I was pregnant again. On July 17,1997 I found out for sure. I bought a test and it turned blue IMMEDIATELY. No questions there. I wasn't going to tell my husband until we walked in the hospital to give birth! He had said that Tim was the last one, he had worn us both out. Tim had had HEART surgery when he was just 4 weeks old and that had been so stressful for us. We thought that we had been to hell and back when we went through that, little did we know.
A baby! I couldn't believe we were going to do it again and so soon. I was secretly excited. When my husband found out he was stunned. He was quiet for two days, but then he got adjusted to the idea and was pleased. It made a nice round number. 4 kids wow! The boys were so excited.
This one was a miracle baby. We had had to take a fertility drug to get pregnant with all the others and he was our "natural" baby. God was in this somehow he wanted us to get pregnant, we figured for some reason. We didn't know what or why but we were glad.
I thought of all the great things this would mean.I loved the thought that Tim and the baby would only be 15 months apart. I knew it would be hard but I also new they would be best of buddies. When we found out that it was going to be our fourth boy I wasn't in the least disappointed. I had all the boy "things" down after all, I knew how to handle boys. We were thrilled.
As time passed I was getting tired.Timmy was very sick for a long time and didn't sleep very well. I was up all the time, I think I might have had two to three hours at a time of sleep. My husband tried to help but Timmy was a one woman kinda kid. He had finally around January began to sleep longer periods of time. Life was getting good. Just a few more weeks and I get to start the sleepless nights again, but oh boy was it going to be worth it.
On Tuesday the 10th I had a doctor's appointment. They had started doing the stress test on the baby the week before and I was due for one that day but Tim was very ill, he had been running 105 degree temperature for several days and I couldn't stay for the test...you know how doctor's are he was already an hour late and the test was going to take 30 minutes. The doctor said that it was no problem that I could come back later in the week and have the test done. The last one had looked good.
Tim's fever broke on Wednesday and he was feeling alot better. I had decided to go for the test on Friday. Life was getting back on track.
Then Thursday came. The worst day of my life. We had finally gotten some sleep, so the day was bright and cheerful. I hadn't felt the baby move even though I kept trying all the things to try to get him to. I finally sat down around 11:00 am and tried really hard to get him to move. Nothing. He had felt so heavy all morning. I guess in my heart I knew he was gone but I didn't panic. I called my husband at work and told him that the doctor said come in. He came right home to get me. The trip to the doctor's office seemed to take a lifetime, but we finally got there.
The nurse took us to the room and tried to get a heartbeat, but she said I want to hook you up to an ultrasound because I know this is scaring you. They did and within minutes,hours days I don't know, the world had stopped, the doctor said those awful gut wrenching words. I don't see a heartbeat.
This couldn't be happening to us could it? We were blessed with this little fellow, he was our miracle baby! This couldn't be true. But the doctor was in tears, the nurse was holding me. The loud keening noises ,that I realized were coming from me,sounded in that little room. But it had happened and nothing was going to change. My little one had left me. His spirit had gone and with it mine had gone too. I no longer wanted to live.
The hospital was close to the doctor's office. While I waited for my husband at the entrance to the hospital, a mom came out carrying a new baby. She was going home with a squirmy warm bundle to cuddle and love. My agony was extreme, when I left this hospital I would be leaving it alone. Empty arms. All alone.
It has been a little over 4 months since we lost Spencer, but that day is still so very clear to me. I relive it in my dreams, and the sleepless nights that still haunt me. I grieve deeply, I am not always in the gut wrenching soul twisting grief that I was the in the first few weeks but it still can bring me to my knees with the pain of losing him. I still wake in the morning feeling like like these past months are unreal, but the empty bassinet shows me different. My precious one is in heaven and is being rocked and cared for by Sarah, my friends 17 year old daughter. I miss him with all my heart, but that won't bring him home. I will shed my tears and hold on to the knowledge that I will hold him again one day. I love you, Spence, watch over your brothers for me.