Friday, July 13, 2007
In Memory Part 2
My pregnancy with Kassidy had been a complete placenta previa pregnancy. I had known from the beginning that I would be having a C-section. A natural birth was impossible, and could have killed me and the baby. I never had any bleeding during the pregnancy, and I was never truly concerned. I wasn't overly happy about having to have a C-section, but I was thankful to be living in a time when it was possible. A hundred years ago, women died from placenta previa hemorrhaging. I never dreamed that it was linked with something so very horrible. It was years after her birth before I even knew the placenta previa was probably connected to her death. At some point in my pregnancy there had been an injury to the placenta, at least, I was told that. The veins and arteries connecting the two of us together had crossed somehow, and were not working properly. It is exactly the same as twin/twin transfusion syndrome, only it was happening between the two of us--fetal-maternal hemorrhage (FMH). It was basically like bleeding to death inside the womb. All the blood in her body was being pumped into mine. She wasn't getting very much at all. The medical community believes it is the cause of many stillbirths. As a matter of fact, mine and Kassidy's records say "stillbirth". Anyway, we made it through the night, and early that morning B asked if I wanted to wheel down to the nursery and see her. I wasn't really feeling myself, and honestly don't remember wanting to, but I did. I knew I would have plenty of time for that. I think B tried to prepare me for what I was going to see, but I don't think it was possible. He had already spent some time with her. The moment I saw her, I finally grasped that my daughter really was seriously ill--deathly ill. The nurses had been manually pumping her heart since her birth using their index fingers--keeping her alive. She never breathed one breath on her own--except her last. In spite of the tubes everywhere and the iodine stains, I thought she was beautiful. She was going to look like her daddy--just like our oldest did. I didn't stay long--couldn't. You would think that I wouldn't be able to leave her side, but I did. At that point, we were still hoping. A team was on its way from Jackson MS, and they were planning to transport her there. When the team arrived, they said, "You've brought us here for nothing. There's nothing we can do. She can't be saved." Her liver had burst, and her heart had obviously failed. She was worn out. We let her go. I will not ever forget that day, July 13th, 1995. We had spent 12 hours with our little girl--the only twelve hours we would ever get in this life. A most precious 12 hours. She died at 1130am. I will not forget the way my husband cried on our pastor's shoulder--great tears of sorrow. I will not forget my inability to cry. I will not forget having to tell B's mom that Kassidy had passed away. She had been traveling for hours to get to us and didn't have a clue that Kassidy had passed away. I will not forget the great out- pouring of love from our friends and family. The military and our church family ( even our former churches) were also a huge help to us during that time. I will not forget that B's grandparents bought her a grave site, and as a gift bought the two next to it for B and me. I will not forget that B's brother calls to talk to me most years on this day and never says why--but I know. I will not forget what it felt like to have her inside me, kicking and moving around. Mostly, I will not forget that God is sovereign. I don't have to know the reason why our little girl died, I trust that He knows why. He has a perfect plan. That is truly enough for me. The Lord giveth and the Lord taketh away. Blessed be the name of the Lord.