The Moment That Brought Us to Our Knees

After being told we could terminate the pregnancy we started our weekly scans.  I complied lists of questions that I would make it half way through before the answers I was getting made it not worth asking the rest of the questions.  Some questions I asked over and over again.  "Why did this happen?"  The same answer I kept getting was, "It was a fluke."  This phrase stirred anger in me.  My daughter was not a fluke!  She was planned for, she has a name, she has a room waiting for her, she has siblings anxious to meet her, she has two sets of grandparents awaiting her arrival, she has so much love.  She is not a fluke! Each time I had an appointment, we would scramble to find someone to go so I wasn't alone in case the words came "There is no longer a heartbeat."  While time stood still for us in our broken little world, the rest of the world moved on.  I had to go to work, I had to take the kids the school, and I had to keep living when all I wanted was to stay in my bed and just get my daughter here safely.  It felt like so much time went by.  In reality from the terrible 19 weeks scan until the day of her delivery was just shy of 4 weeks.  On April 19, something awful happened that rocked me and brought me to a dark place.  I young woman, I had come to know through the Hydrops Support Group announced her darling little boy no longer had a heartbeat.  Most people can recall where they were the moment of the 9/11 attacks, and I can recall with the same clarity where I was the moment I got that message.  I was sitting in my chair, facing my aide, arguing with a kid about why he couldn't run to the art room alone.  I glanced at my phone and stopped mid sentence.  I got up, without a word, and walked outside and fell apart.  I sent her messages telling her I was here if she needed me.  Then, I attempted to continue my day, knowing this girl I had come to love was in labor bringing her darling boy in a world to imperfect for such a perfect little man.  That was a Thursday, in less than a week we would be in the same place, grieving for these tiny angels.  On Friday, I started retaining a lot of fluid.  I called my doctor and she said to keep checking my blood pressure. By Saturday morning, I knew I needed to get to the hospital.  My mom picked me up, because Ryan was out of town.  He rushed to get home.  At the hospital, they put McKenna on a monitor, thinking she was too tiny for it to pick her up.  It did though.  She kicked and played as if to say "I'm here, Mommy. Don't be afraid!"  Every kick I cried and told her I loved her.  The triage nurses didn't know what hydrops was or "Mirror's Syndrome".  They sent me home on bed rest.  On Monday, I had another appointment with my regular OB.  She said "We can't keep you pregnant much longer." We were waiting until I saw the specialist on Wednesday.  I woke up Tuesday morning, helped the kids dress, and then checked my blood pressure.  Ryan was home, but had run to the gym.  My blood pressure was 212/127.  I thought "this is a mistake, Ill recheck it."  Fifteen minutes later I got a similar result and called Ryan to tell him we needed to get to the hospital.  we went to OSU where I was admitted and began the most difficult 24 hours of my life.