Losing Kyrie Pt. 2

Now why didn't anyone warn me about having to be in the maternity ward after losing a baby? This is a conversation that needs to be had because some changes need to be made. The weight of carrying a baby inside of you, knowing that it is no longer alive. To know that you are only at the hospital to give birth to not a healthy and very much alive baby, but a baby whose soul has transitioned. 

Do you know what the first thing I saw was when I walked through those maternity ward doors? A mother and her newborn baby. I broke immediately and the tears just wouldn't stop falling. My husband had to take my bags from me to retrieve my ID and insurance card and check me in. I was gone mentally. All I could think about as we waited to be assigned to a room was how much I wanted to die and be with my baby. The agony of carrying a baby, my baby that I chose to bring into this world. A baby that I was going to nurture and love with every ounce of my being, was all just too much. 

In the waiting room were pictures of happy moms holding their newborns and pamphlets about bringing baby home and what you should know after having a baby. What the f*ck?! I felt like I was being tortured and I wanted to run out of there. Instead I closed my eyes and tried to hold onto the feeling of being pregnant a little longer because soon it would all be over. The crazy part is there was no connection. I had begun to notice the disconnect between me and my baby a few days prior. I just kept telling myself that the connection would come once I found out the sex or held my baby in my arms for the first time. 

We were finally assigned to a room and the tears would just not stop. Having my husband there to undress me and get me into my gown meant the world to me now that I am thinking about it. I wasn't able to really do anything because I couldn't stop crying and my mind was filled with so many questions that the doctors would never answer. I hated being there! I was so mad at myself, at God. I just could not fathom how or why this was happening to me. If you've ever experienced a pregnancy loss then I am very much sure you were going back and forth in your mind about all the things you had done, ate, drank or a certain position you stayed in too long that could've done this to your baby. 

The doctors came in and they were asking so many questions and giving their condolences. Yet, I could barely hear any of it because every word was directed to my now dead baby that I was still carrying and each one hurt like a ton of bricks being dropped on my chest as I laid there crying. There was one doctor however, who was so comforting and helped me to calm down. He was a black male doctor who was highly skilled with much experience in complicated, high risks pregnancies. He was even so kind to allow me to have one last sonogram upon my request because I was still very much in denial. There it was again. That silence! No heartbeat! 

My baby was really gone and it was time for me to really come to terms with that because I had to get her out to save my life. My life.......I didn't even know at that moment if I wanted to save my own life. I felt so dead inside along with my baby. No one else mattered at that moment, not even my children who were at home. Selfish? How could I be so selfish? Snapping out of the darkness my mind had succumb to, I made a decision to allow the doctors to perform a D&E procedure to remove my baby. 

Thank you so much for reading my blog. To avoid having lengthy blog posts, I will continue to break them down into parts. Please leave a comment if you are interested in reading "Losing Kyrie, Part 3". In part 3, I will go into the traumatic and scary experience I encountered after my D&E surgery was complete.