Wyatt Harrison Potts
June 22, 2009
Saturday
We sailed past the twelfth week of pregnancy, marking the time when it was "safe" to tell people. Of course, though it was our first pregnancy and we told people almost immediately, I was quietly glad to clear the first trimester hurdle and felt secure in my pregnancy. My stomach had felt sore for about a week... growing pains, I thought. My baby bump had recently become much more pronounced, and I figured that it made sense for things to feel the way they felt since everything was shifting so rapidly. I'd had a wonderful yoga session and knew that could also explain the soreness.
Jared and I did errands, but I was feeling so lousy that I slept in the car while he ran around. I didn't think anything of it because we figured morning sickness was going to stick with me for a few more weeks.
Sunday
Sunday I passed a blood clot and we immediately called the doctor. The on-call Dr and fantastically re-assuring. Don't go to the emergency room he advised, but do rest. Stay off your feet and we will do an ultrasound first thing Monday. I rested all day Sunday noticing that the soreness of my abdomen started to come in more distinct waves.
JP was so worried; his emotions also came in waves. I told him "I have a good feeling in my bones--don't worry." "Pregnancy is not for the faint of heart," he mused.
Monday, June 22
I woke up around 2 a.m. with the same feelings, did my usual mid-night run to the bathroom and went back to sleep until about 5 a.m. Looking back, the pains started to feel a bit more cramp-like, but with the appointment coming up, I wasn't worried. Soon we would know what was going on.
In my sleepy state, I commented to Jared that our little bugger was awfully mischievous and I thought him to be a boy, a crazy cowboy spirit I said. We should name him Wyatt. This wasn't the first time I'd talked about names in a half-sleep state!
Jared rubbed my back as we tried to get some rest and pass time until the doctors office opened. Soon, we got up and headed in. My cramps were about 5 minutes apart.
Our doctor was on vacation so we saw the doctor on call. Anxious to see the ultrasound, I quickly explained my symptoms. Soon enough a beautiful (and very active!) profile came onto the screen and the doctor exclaimed "He is alive and looks very healthy." All the measurements were right on, there was a strong, steady, (and fast) heartbeat, and the little wonder gave us a few waves that were picture perfect from the position he was in. What a relief!
It turns out I had a sub-chorionic hemorrhage, or small amount of blood gathered between the placenta and uterus, that was causing the cramping--or so we thought. Its size and location indicated that we were in the clear. Relieved, we were sent on our way with high hopes and orders for bed rest until the hemorrhage cleared.
I puked once before getting in the car (everytime I got sick, we were so happy because at one point our Dr had said that this was a "healthy" sign, so despite feeling lousy physically, I was relieved and we got in the car and went home to bed.
I contacted work and let them know I'd be resting. Jared set me up with snacks, liquids, books and my laptop, and we went back and forth a bit on whether he should stay home. "No, go ahead," I said, "I'm going to try to sleep."
In between email hand-offs to co-workers, I felt a few really strong cramps come and go. OK, I thought, the hemorrhage must just be working its way out. As I was winding out of work mode, my water broke. "Clearly, I have just wet my bed" I thought. "Sheesh, pregnancy is so weird." I didn't think for a second that I was going into labor--I was still on the bed rest program and hadn't I just been assured everything would be ok?
This is where things started to go really fast and really slow.
I stood up and rushed to the bathroom, looking down to see a thick stream of blood follow me there. I sat on the toilet and looked down to see how much blood I'd lost (a lot). I sat there and felt what I thought was another clot (this one much bigger) pass. I looked down again, and it was a live fetus, still attached to its umbilical cord. Completely unprepared for what I saw (it looked like an alien), I will never forget the scream / cry / anguished yelp I let out. I'm sure it was the most primal feeling I will ever experience.
I had two conflicting thoughts. I was torn between wanting to save him and knowing there was just no way. Crazy but true, I even wondered if I could put the small body in glass that held our toothbrushes and run to the hospital. I also thought maybe I needed to nurse him--isn't that what you did after you gave birth? As I said, every thought came and went quickly and none of them were logical. I felt completely panicked, but then almost as quickly... a sense of calm.
I picked up the fetus and though I didn't look closely, I knew at once it was a boy. He was alive and filled the space of my palm from the tip of my middle finger to my wrist. He moved his tiny hands as he'd done during the ultrasound. Though his eyes were fused shut, I could see them adjusting to the light. His mouth opened and closed a number of times and his expression was as sweet and peaceful as can be.
At that moment, I became a mother. My love for him--this tiny life I barely knew--became way bigger than any sense of loss or anguish I was feeling. I told him how much we loved him, that it was ok for him to go and that I would help him get to his next place. And, then he stopped moving.
Instantly, a phone appeared in my hand (I am sure I didn't think to grab it on my way to the bathroom, but there it was). I called Jared and cried that we had lost our baby. I called the doctor and said I didn't know what to do. For some reason, I called 911 last. Jared quickly arrived and I heard him run through the house. I was still on the toilet but tried to hold the door closed because I knew he would be upset. I told him that it was going to be hard to see. Of course he didn't care and barged in. He looked and sobbed and we hugged and I left him in the bathroom (for some reason) to find 3 or 4 firemen standing in our wide open front door, an ambulance arriving behind them.
Side note: At the time, I was keenly aware of how completely awkward it was to greet a crew of firemen in my half-naked state. I know they have seen more traumatic situations and it did not phase them. I, on the other hand, have not seen very many traumatic situations and for a slow strange moment, I honestly felt like I had to entertain them somehow. Just as quickly, the moment passed, they did their thing, cut the umbilical cord and put the tiny body in a paper bag. As the elder fireman cleaned me up, I remember wondering why miscarriages generally seemed to happen in toilets and trying to figure out what the better location would be.
Jared rode with me in the ambulance, holding my hand. After weeks of rain, I could see the blue sky. I heard myself narrating each thought, "Oh, the sky is blue, and here we are in the ambulance. We just lost our baby. This is happening."
The stay in the emergency room went as expected. Laying there I passed more blood than I thought possible. I don't recall being worried about my condition, I was more concerned about Jared whose heart seemed to be breaking before my eyes. And that sweet tiny face that I couldn't get out of my head.
Soon, I had the after-birth, followed by an emergency D&C. The only thing I'd ever heard about the procedure was from a friend who'd had one go terribly wrong, ended up scarring and was unable to conceive again. As the Dr. was getting set up, I asked about the risks associated with the procedure, and he snapped "We'll talk about the future in the future. For now, I am trying to save you." I hadn't considered the amount of blood I'd lost and felt incredibly helpless.
The hospital chaplin came in and asked us if we wanted to pray. In the middle of the ER, this felt like a hollow offer though of course it wasn't and it would have been a fine time to pray. Instead, I ended up distracting myself by listening to Jared babble about how he hadn't been to church in a long time and he was sorry and on and on. This is not characteristic of him which made the whole scene oddly amusing.
***
Jared and I took a week off and worked in our garden. Strangely, a hummingbird would visit us every day. We'd never seen it before, and we only saw it occasionally after that week. I am not claiming that Wyatt's spirit took on an avian form, or any such thing (although...). But, I do find it comforting to think of the hummingbird as a reminder of the tiny fleeting life that made me a mother.
