Hawk Godwin

"I have bad news." Then Dr. Barbera started an unbelievably long pause. The first thought that ran through my head was, "this is a pretty fucked up kind of joke in the ultrasound industry...they wouldn't joke like that...". Then he placed his hand on my leg and I lost it as he finished his thought with, "There is no heart beat." Aubrey was at my side in a flash. 

On Friday I was 21 weeks and 6 days pregnant. We scheduled my ultrasound that day because a doctor came into the birthing center twice a month to do ultrasounds. Friday, April 12th was one of his days. I had my "20 week" appointment immediately before the ultrasound at 2:30. At that appointment I was informed that all of my lab work came back great and my blood pressure was low as usual. We discussed the baby's irregular movements over the past couple weeks and was again reassured  that babies at this age do not always move around every day and it's not always consistent. (I had called Monday morning and was told not to worry and to come in any time to hear the heartbeat. I said I'd just see them Friday.) Copper was doing back flips a few hundred times a day by this point without fail when I was pregnant with her. Every pregnancy's different, right? I had felt (thought I felt anyways) the baby move mildly, but regularly, on Monday and Tuesday, but not really since then. I hadn't felt much movement for about 5-6 days prior to that. Maybe it wasn't the baby moving on those days. The nurse got out the little heartbeat machine and spent a couple minutes looking for the heartbeat. She couldn't find it. No big deal. We were heading down for the ultrasound next anyways. We'd hear and see it then. 

The doctor got started and quickly informed me that there was only one baby. We joked about how he knew he always had to say that first. Then came a clear image of the baby's head and part of the body. He stayed on that image a long time without saying anything. Then he said the worst thing possible. That was it. Our baby was dead. The baby measured around 19 weeks and few days. It had a lot of fluid around the brain and abdomen. The doctor said that this late in the game, the baby probably had Downs or another severe chromosomal defect such as Trisomy 21 that made the pregnancy non viable. (I know that I felt the baby move after 19 weeks. Maybe he was just small because of the complications?) The doctor showed us his heart. The little black spot on the screen that wasn't moving. We went into that ultrasound merely to see if we were having a boy or a girl. With hopes that we'd see a little penis. We didn't find out the sex. 

The midwife came down and we talked about what happens next. Then we went back up to the birthing center's main exam rooms and waited as arrangements were made for me at Swedish Medical Center to be induced. I was scheduled for 10:00 pm that night. I couldn't get the thought of holding my dead baby out of my head. This was going to be too hard. Aubrey and I drove home, packed up Melvin and Copper's overnight bags and headed to my parents to drop everything off. Copper was already there playing with Lucy while we had our appointments. We stayed awhile and then headed home to "relax" a bit before heading to the hospital. 

We checked in at 10:00. I had to say that I was scheduled to be induced and that I was 22 weeks pregnant. After 3 attempts at getting an IV started in my dehydrated veins (apparently I was a bit negligent about my water intake that day) I was given my first high dose of Cytotec, 2 Tylenol, and a half dose of Ambien at 12:30 am. Aubrey curled up to sleep on his pull out twin bed while I lay on the hospital bed. We both were able to sleep. I better than him. We were woken at about 5:00am so I could get my second dose of Cytotec and two more Tylenol. We went back to sleep. During both of those segments I woke up once each time with mild cramps and shaking a bit from being cold. Otherwise I slept. The doctor came in about 8:15 am to let us know that we'd be doing one more round of Cytotec around 9:00. After he left I got up to pee and then the cramps started. I then got my third dose. I was dilated to 1cm. The midwife on call at the birthing center came to visit then. We talked for a bit, she gave me an herbal recipe to help dry up my milk when it came in, and the name of a support group. I was allowed to eat so Aubrey and I ordered room service. I had pancakes and potatoes. Aubrey had an omelet. They were okay.

The cramps worsened over the next couple hours and were eventually paired up with diarrhea. These cramps were constant and never stopped. I still didn't have any contractions. Around 11:00am Aubrey called the nurse in to get my epidural. I was breathing through the pain, but there was no break and it was only getting worse. If I still had contractions to deal with, there was no way I wanted to continue to breathe through it. The nurse arrived and she confirmed that yes, I would still have contractions later so we talked epidural. I wanted to see how far dilated I was, but she said that she'd look after the epidural when I was more comfortable. I lay back on the bed and breathed. The anesthesiologist came in and I put on the hospital gown.  I sat on the bed cross legged and got prepped for the epidural. Shortly after sitting down, I felt an immense pressure and a drop. The cramping stopped, but this intense pressure remained. I felt like I was holding in a very full bladder. I expressed this and they finished the epidural. I went to lay on my side and our little baby slid right out. This was going to be the worst part of the  whole experience. We were going to hold our dead baby. I did one little push and everything was out. They took the baby out of the sack and cut his umbilical cord and cleaned and wrapped him. Then he was in our arms. 

Our little baby boy. Aubrey and I sat together on the bed for over two hours holding our baby in our arms. Looking at his hands and feet; fingers and toes. His eyes that were just beginning to open that reminded me of kittens a few days after they are born. We looked at his flat little nose and ears. His lips and tongue that showed between them. His little nipples and his little penis. His round belly and skinny arms and legs. His whole body a tiny jello mold of the baby we were planning on holding in mid August.

Hawk Godwin was born on April 13, 2013 at 11:27 am. He weighed 6.8 oz and was 9 inches long. He just turned 22 weeks old. 

Holding Hawk was the best part of this whole experience. We got to see and touch our baby. After the tears stopped, Aubrey and I both felt a sense of calm about everything. This is the worst thing that has ever happened to either of us, but we felt okay. We were holding our baby. Nothing was going to change the fact that nature dealt him a shitty hand and he was forced to fold early. But the baby that had been moving in my tummy that we loved from the day he was conceived was in our arms. So this is what closure feels like. Who knew. 

The only profile shot we took. Right before we headed to the hospital. 

21 weeks and 6 days. 

Now we're home. The emotions come and go. I'm at peace one minute and crying the next. We spent this morning at Fairmount Cemetery picking out a casket, plot, and grave marker. Each piece of his burial a painful step in this nightmare. Hawk's new home will be in "Baby Land" at Fairmount. I've ran and walked by this area over a hundred times. Each time thinking about how hard that must be to bury a child, but always having the benefit of detachment. We chose a site as close to a tree as possible and four rows back so the chances of dogs like Melvin peeing on him is minimized. Fairmount is a beautiful old cemetery close to our house that my mom and I both love to spend time at. My relationship with the cemetery will be different now, but it's a good place for Hawk. Someday he will come to rest with Aubrey and I, but until then he will rest with the other babies that also left this world way too early.

We will have a very informal gathering at the cemetery on Friday morning at 11:00am. Aubrey and I will get to see him one last time. We will wrap our old baby blankets around his tiny body. We will place photos of us, his mom, dad, and sister, with him. We will give him one of Copper's stuffed animals to sleep with. We will drape his casket in one of Copper's blankets. Then we will bury our little baby boy.