Dose this pain ever go away? Will I ever stop blaming myself? Will I forever be so full of regret? 16 months, 3 weeks,…

Dose this pain ever go away? Will I ever stop blaming myself? Will I forever be so full of regret?

16 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days.

The deafening silence that filled the room still rings in my ears. The moment you were born, the room flooded with people. When your dad spoke you moved your little head.

Not viable.

20 weeks and 3 days.

The length of my pregnancy with you. The time we spent together. I miss and cherish each day.

Not a day has passed that I haven’t thought about what could’ve been done to save you.

19 weeks and 4 days.

My cervix was shortening. 1.9cm. I was sent home on bedrest. To wait for a consultation that would never come.

20 weeks.

My cervix has gotten shorter. 1.5cm. Sent to the hospital to wait for a transfer. A transfer we were “not stable enough” for.

3 days.

I spent three days. Taking nifedipine around the clock. Begging for them to save you. I asked about Trendelenburg positioning, I was told it had no known benefits. I was told you weren’t developed enough for steroids to be of any help. I was told if you were born now you wouldn’t have the ability to breathe. I was told if we made it a few more days we would try Magnesium Sulfate.

5:58am

The time you were born. So perfect and sweet. Born en caul. Expected to be born still. Placed on my chest. Your father spoke softly, and your head moved. You were not born still, you were alive.

42 minutes

The time we spent together. You were fighting for your life, and I was overwhelmed with a feeling of helplessness I had never known. Your heartbeat began to slow. The last ten minutes of your life, your heart rate matched mine.

6:40am

You were finally at peace.

My little Ella Grace.

2/6/19

10.6oz

10in

20+3 gestation

42 minutes.