Northside Hospital Perinatal Loss Office

A Short Life But a Lifetime of Love

by Jaxon's Mommy, JP (Hiram, GA)

I'm 29 yrs old. I work as an Employment Specialist in a hospital. I moved to Georgia about three years ago from Rochester, NY with my husband RP. I have one older sister who lives in Virginia with her son and husband. Both my parents are deceased. I like to read, shop, laugh and go out to eat.

On Sunday, May 1, 2006 between 11:30 and 11:45 pm, my water broke as I was getting ready to go to bed. Prior to that I kind of felt that I might have been leaking, but I thought it was only discharge. I looked in every book and magazine. I called women who had been pregnant before.  Even my doctor said discharge was normal. Never would I have thought it was amniotic fluid. I went to the hospital around 12:01 am. The person at the registration desk asked so many questions and took so long to get me upstairs.  Meanwhile, my water is still coming out of me.  I got upstairs finally and they said that my water had definitely broken and that I was going to be in the hospital for a very long time. I immediately broke out into tears, even one of the nurses started to cry. I think she knew that it was only a matter of days for my baby.

I called my sister and I asked her..........please help me. She told me that every thing would be all right. I was nervous and scared because I never had to stay in the hospital before. They moved me to a room, placed an IV in me and told me to drink plenty of fluids. I was put on strict bed rest. My husband stayed with me the whole time. A young lady came into take an ultrasound of the baby (I couldn't even look at it. I was so scared). Her words to me, and I quote, "You sure did lose a lot of water!" She looked at me as if I did something wrong. It was a nasty look. It made me feel even worse. Her parting words were "drink lots of fluids." I couldn't sleep that whole night.

The next day two doctors visited me, a specialist that I had been seeing because of my high blood pressure and my regular doctor. The specialist told me that there was a 75% chance that my body would reject the pregnancy within a week. He told me to go home because there was nothing they could do for my baby until he was at least 24 weeks. No hope for my baby . . . I don't even think the specialist cared about my baby. I talked it over with my regular doctor. Her advice to me was that if I chose to go home and delivered there, it would be a devastating experience. We decided to stay. I wanted to go home so badly. I was scared of hospitals. Day after day I'd ask nurses, techs, doctors, anybody if this had ever happened to anyone before and, if so, did the baby survive.  Some said yes others didn't know what to say.  I'd ask people to pray for my baby and me.  Family and friends called and came by. The whole time I was a nervous wreck. At one point I wanted it to all be over. My baby was either going to make it or not, but I wanted out of that hospital.  It was depressing. I always had in the back of my mind that he wasn't going to make it.

Then it happened. I started to bleed and to cramp. They gave me something to knock me out.  When I woke up, the nurse had told me "Honey, you just had your baby."  My husband had actually discovered him. I did not feel my child come into this world. He came and went, just like that. I looked over at my husband who was crying and touched his face, and I told him everything was all right. I was relieved. I had no time to take it all in because I was so doped up with meds from the IV. They rushed me to the OR to do a D&C. They snapped the placenta when they were trying to remove it. I begged them not to put me under because my fear was that I might not wake up, They tried the epidural, but it didn't work because I was too out of it to sit up straight. The procedure took all of 15 minutes. When I woke up, I was relieved. I was alive. The whole time I was in the hospital, I thought I was going to die. I thought there is no way I'm going to make it through this.

When I saw my sister’s face, I was so happy. I still had not digested losing Jaxon. It wasn't real to me. I was taken over to short stay to recover. No one offered a Chaplain, no condolences; just “You're going home tomorrow.”

The next morning I was seen by the doctor, asked what I wanted to do with my baby's remains, given a folder with some poems and info about burial, and a satin bag that contained a blanket, teddy bear, and the tiny robe that was used to cover my baby, stained with his blood. No one cared . . . No one cared . . . I was asked if I wanted to see him or hold him. I didn't at the time. It wasn't real to me. I showed no emotion. My husband and my sister saw him. I got into the car to go home, and I broke into a loud screaming cry. What had just happened to me? Where is my baby? I felt like I was leaving him. What kind of mother doesn't want to see or hold her own child? How could I leave him alone when he needed me the most? I regret that everyday of my life.

I took six weeks off from work. The calls from my boss were fake. I felt as if he was more concerned about me returning to work then my loss. No one cared . . . The whole six weeks were a blur, no real time to grieve.

My sister stayed with me for a week, my husband stayed off the entire time. If it wasn't for them, I'm not sure what I would've done. Still no calls from the hospital, other than “You left your jacket.” My family was very upset by the treatment. My sister called and found out that there was a big miscommunication. Normally after the D&C's are performed, the patients were moved back to the floor to recover. I wasn't. They told me that they thought it might upset me going back up there in fear that I would hear other babies cry. To me, that's no excuse. I should've been provided with some sort of comfort. No one cared about me or my baby . . . or my family. Going through something like this is no time for any type of miscommunication.  I'm hurt. I'm angry and extremely frustrated that I was treated like that as a patient and an employee . . . The weird thing about it is that if I were to have another baby, I'd go back since not all the people were that inconsiderate.

A few weeks later, the pictures they took came back. Did I receive a call to tell me?  NO! I called on my own and found out that they were back. My husband and I went to pick them up. I viewed them with someone from the hospital, and she was the most comforting person throughout the whole process. She's the reason I'd go back.

I went back to work; people really thought that I had been on some sort of vacation! (Hardly!) Why am I still there? I have to make a living.

Jaxon was a name that my husband came up with. Jaxon Sherod Henry . Sherod is my husband’s middle name. Henry is my father’s middle name.  Jaxon weighed 12 ounces. My husband said he looks like him, but I can't see where he looks like anyone. He was still developing. I do have his footprints. They are so cute. His room was almost ready. The crib, dresser and changing table are all in place. I go in there all the time. I miss him so much. I feel that we were just getting to know each other. Never really felt him kick, just flutters. I know I'm his mommy no matter where he is. I would've loved to have been his mommy on earth. Part of me is gone. My heart never ached so much. My way of life is different. My thought process has changed. I feel as if I would like to have maybe a puppy or something to cuddle and take care of as a sort of therapy, not to replace Jaxon, but heal a little bit.

 

 

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Don't Say Anything

 

Author Unknown

 

 

Don't tell me "things happen for a reason."

Don't tell me to "keep busy" and "move on."

Don't tell me that you "know how I feel."

 

Don't tell me that it was "too hard" for YOU

to talk to ME about the death of MY baby boy.

 

Don't tell me that YOU feel "uncomfortable" 

looking at his picture or calling me on his birthday.

 

Don't SAY anything to try to make me feel better.

 

Hug me.

Listen to me.

Sit quietly with me.

Let me cry.

Smile when you look at his picture.

Help me plant a tree in his memory.

Allow me to sit in the rocking chair in the nursery.

Light a candle.

Release a balloon.

Walk with me on my journey.

Remember him forever.

 

 

 

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Hopes and Dreams

 

by Shana (Atlanta)

 

 

A hope, a dream

 

A little flicker of a heartbeat on the screen

 

Oh my God, it’s finally real

 

It’s amazing, the love we feel

 

Listening hard, trying to find

 

Sweet sounds of life from the inside

 

Growing, changing, more each day

 

Becoming more real in every way

 

 

 

Time to find out - a girl or a boy?

 

Visions of our future with our pride and joy

 

I’m sorry, there’s a problem - the doctor frowns

 

With those words our world came tumbling down

 

Two weeks later our boy was born still

 

Our hearts broken, along with our spirit, our will

 

The pain is so sharp; it cuts like a knife

 

How could this happen to such an innocent life?

 

We’ve cried and screamed and asked WHY?

 

Why didn’t our little boy survive?

 

 

 

Time slowly passes, we continue to grieve

 

So hard to face people, so hard to believe

 

Healthy babies born every day

 

Yet our pain and sorrow is here to stay

 

He turned us into parents, of this we know

 

And so we decide that our family must grow

 

 

 

Another set of hopes, another set of dreams

 

This time two heartbeats flickering on the screen

 

Conflicting emotions, so hard to sort out

 

Joy, sorrow, excitement, love, pain, and doubt

 

How much uncertainty are we able to endure?

 

Mourning the loss of one child, while

 

expecting two more

 

We listen to their heartbeats and watch them grow

 

With a special love that only parents can know

 

We swelled with pride as the doctor said with joy

 

It looks like you’re having a girl and a boy!

 

You’re family is complete! Some people have said

 

Have they forgotten that our son is dead?

 

 

 

While there is no child who can replace another

 

We love these two babies as we love their brother

 

As we hug them tight we’ll look up to the sky

 

And blow a sweet kiss to our darling Eli.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Always Loved

Never Forgotten

 

by Shana (Atlanta)

 

Always loved . . .  never forgotten

That's what it says upon their grave

Three tiny wonders

Not strong enough to live

 

Thirty fingers, thirty toes

And their beautiful faces

How amazing that our bodies

Can create such perfect life

 

Our precious children

Though we never saw into their eyes

Nor they into ours

We know one other intimately

 

They are forever a part of us

Connected to our souls

Forever leaving their imprint

Upon our broken hearts.

 

Although the grief will fade

And our hearts will yield to joy

Our children will always be loved

And they will never be forgotten.