Saturday, November 29, 2008

3 Months Today

It's 3 months today since we learned Ezra died. Tomorrow is 3 months since he was born. I'm not sure I can gather my thoughts enough to comment on the significance of 3 months. Other than to say I stand in awe of how much my life has changed in that time.

Around this exact time of day 3 months ago today, I sent an email to several coworkers titled "I'm fine." See the doctor had called me that morning saying I needed to come to the hospital for some tests...immediately. And since I was already at the office, I had to quickly let folks know where I was going and get coverage for a case in court...and off I went. Since I'd gotten a few email queries about whether everything was ok, I sent the few people who knew where I was an email when I got home. Everything's good. The tests were normal. My blood pressure's a little high but they think it will come down if I go home and rest. The baby's doing great. I feel kind of crummy so I'm not coming back to the office. I'm just going to get some rest now. Everything is ok.

I have never been so wrong.
So incredibly astoundingly mistaken.
I was not fine.
Ezra was not fine.
Ezra was likely already dead.
Slipped away, most likely on the car ride home.
When we left the hospital, my stomach felt a little upset.
And as we rode through Chinatown I felt a huge cramp.
David thought I was complaining about his driving.
All the bumps and potholes in the streets of Philadelphia bothered me so much more when I was pregnant.
But this was not a pothole.
I now understand it was Ezra's home, his placenta,
ripping away from the side of my uterus.

My poor little man.
His only source of oxygen,
Wrenched away.

I often wonder whether Ezra felt anything in those last moments.
Whether he realized what was happening,
Or felt betrayed.

I'm sure anyone who knows anything about child development,
Would tell me no way, he didn't know,
He didn't have the capacity to know.
He just went to sleep, never to awake.

But I worry, I really do.

By the time we got home the cramps were more painful, more consistent
"Drink water, eat something," the midwife said when I called.
She never asked me if I felt the baby moving.
I never realized that I didn't.
I was too focused on the pain, the unbelievable cramps.

It was only when I called back, the second time.
After the doctor had called about the normal test results
And to apologize for putting me through the tests.
(I mentioned I felt sick, he didn't ask about the baby's movement)
After I had drank 3 glasses of water only to throw them back up.
When I called back to ask, "maybe I'm in labor?"
What did I know, I've never done this before.

Only then did the midwife ask whether I felt my uterus contracting
And I realized I felt nothing.
Rock solid.

And yet it never occurred to me that my baby had died.
Never crossed my mind Ezra was no longer living.
I just thought maybe he was coming early.
Which was fine with me.
I couldn't wait to meet him.

I really didn't understand.
When the doctor said that our baby had passed away.
How could that possibly be?
He was fine.
Just a few hours ago he was fine.

I was just so very wrong.
Nothing is fine.
Nothing is ok.
And I'm not sure it ever will be.


DAL said...

A fine three-month anniversary tribute to Little Peanut Boy, as I often call him.

Rach said...

You write so beautifully - so beautiful about such a devastating time.

Things will never be the same. I am sure that for us they will get 'better' or easier in some way but they will never be the same.

I re-read this exerpt from Freud often;

‘…we also know that we shall remain inconsolable and will never find a substitute, no matter what may fill the gap, even if it be filled completely, it nevertheless remains something else. And actually, this is how it should be…it is the only way of perpetuating that love that we do not want to relinquish.’

Things wont be the same.


Hope's Mama said...

Sarah I'm just so sorry. This is so very familiar to me. I'd been in labour 3 days and had let slip to a few friends, as well as my family. I'd just finished sending an email to everyone saying i was fine, just a bit exhausted and confused as to why things were taking so long and that baby was fine - she'd just had the hiccups and been moving around. Little did I know, they were here last movements. And that she wasn't fine. And I wasn't fine. An infection had crept in and snatched her life. An infection that wasn't there two days earlier, when we were at hospital thinking we were going to have the baby. When we were really all fine. Unlike you though, I knew when we arrived back at the hospital. I knew. I just couldn't believe it. I didn't want to believe it. I still don't. I hate waking up to this reality every day and I hate that you do, too xoxo

Gal aka SuperMommy said...

I am so thinking about you, Sarah. Know that you are never alone on this bumpy potholed road. Love.

Anonymous said...

I am thinking of you, Ezra and David tonight more than ever. Lots of love!

Barbara said...

Thinking of you too and crying for you and beautiful Ezra and wishing you peace.


Anonymous said...

i remember having the feeling that i wished i had xray vision into my womb when i was pregnant. just to make sure everything was ok, that the baby was doing well. i assumed he was, had a strong heartbeat and he moved around. but i wanted to see inside there and make sure. little did i know that a baby could die inside there when you think everything is fine and ok and he's supposed to be born so soon. it's just so mysterious and out of our control, that's the hardest thing...that we had no control. we couldn't save our beautiful baby boys. keeping ezra in my heart and his mommy too.

c. said...

I really didn't understand.
When the doctor said that our baby had passed away.
How could that possibly be?
He was fine.
Just a few hours ago he was fine

That is exactly how I felt when I learned my son had died. I kept saying this aloud, as though "only a few hours" could not be enough time for something like this to happen.

Stumbled upon your blog via Hope's Mama. I'm sorry Ezra is not here. I am sorry you have to know this pain and heartache and longing at all.