So everything is pretty much a blur after getting to the hospital. I do remember the anesthesiologist being very mean. I was of course an emotional crying mess and he was just nasty. I remember getting a medication that made me see things. It was overall a terrible experience but not just because of the fact that i had to give birth to my dead daughter. No that wasn't the worst. The worst was the nurse that instead of asking for help kept digging in my hand and arms for veins until one of my sisters, also a nurse yelled at her and made her get someone else and told them where to put my line in. Then the doctor that didn't give me a choice told me i had to have her..no C-section i would have to push her out...and she was backwards and folded in half and turning her would be too traumatic. Like are you kidding me. I remember my mother and sisters fighting the doctors and yelling at them. I got a high fever and they just gave me more drugs...they induced me, it was a long night. My pain medicine wore off, yeah you would think they would have me higher than a kite to deal with everything, instead they couldn't find the anesthesiologist. I could hear other women in labor with live babies crying because their meds were wearing off as well. So i said help them first when you find someone, nothing will change for me i will deal with the pain, help them have their live babies mine is dead. I hoped that the pain would knock me out. It did. I woke up to my sisters, whom are all except one very worried about germs, sleeping on the hospital floor because they didnt want to leave me. They dropped everything in their lives to be with me and i will never forget that. I will never forget how they were there for me and never left. For my husband it was too much, and i get it he pretty much stayed out of the room until it was time to push. Which is fine i needed him to be strong when i was pushing not while we were waiting for that time. It seems odd, like i should be mad he wasn't with me but I'm not. So the time came to push and it was hard and i cried and my mom cried and my husband cried, and the doctors cried. I will never forget the doctor saying her butt was coming out first and he didn't want to hurt me but he needed help, so another doctor came in to help hold while he pulled her legs out. I remember the horrible sound and feeling of relief that it was over. Just a "pop" and it was done. I asked to see her and they said let us clean her up first. After stitches and cleaning a lady came in at least i think. I cant remember much. I just know she worked for a nonprofit that took pictures of your stillborn child so you would have them and we said yes. Right before they brought her to us they put warmers in her blanket so she would stay warm....i remember looking at her and hoping her eyes would open. I hoped they were wrong, my baby wasn't gone, she couldnt be. I had just felt her move the day before. She looked perfect. And later we would find out she was. Nothing had been wrong with her. For some reason her heart just stopped. That was all the explanation we ever got. Sometimes i think that is the worst part. The not knowing what had happened. The why? was never answered. So we held her and some of our family did as well. I remember saying goodbye was hard but burying her would be worse.
So many people say "i don't know how you did it" "I would never have been able to" You know if someone had asked me while i still felt her move and heard her heartbeat i would have said the same thing. Im not saying it was easy. Im not saying my husband and i didnt struggle with blame toward each other. As i said before my husband wasnt ready for kids yet and he felt robbed and like it was his fault because he wasnt as involved with my pregnancy. I painted my entire house like three times. I cried constantly. I read blogs and joined online support groups. I tried to get my husband involved. I went through a phase of wanting to get pregnant again immediately, but i didn't. I was in a dark place. We both were. I got a bear....a stuffed animal made by a group of women that were helping people deal with loss. It is called Molly Bears. They make bears the same weight as your baby and they add little things to personalize it. I slept with that bear for about a year. It was indescribably hard. But we survived. After almost 2 years we decided to go on vacation and try to have another baby. We knew it would be hard and emotional but i thought as long as i get a boy that will make it easier. I obsessed and got a heart monitor. I went to the doctors constantly and we decided to induce at 39 weeks. When i found out i was having another girl i developed stress-induced diabetes and everyday was a struggle. I didnt want to decorate her room i didnt want to do anything. We did eventually but as that 39 week approached i woke every morning terrified that as i slept she had died. Finally induction of baby girl number 2 came, the doctor scheduled had an emergency and i got a different doctor on call. This i would say was divine intervention. Im not religious at all. I believe in something but i dont believe in one particular God or set of beliefs. So that being said, the doctor ended up being the same one that had delivered our first daughter, Alexis. He saw us and immediately remembered and told me we would have this girl and everything would be fine. The best part was when she finally came, nurse went to take her and the doctor said no just give me a minute, and he held her and cried. We all did. She didnt replace Alexis, no, no one ever will, but still it was a relief. I promised myself even after everything i would not be a hover mom, i would not put her in a bubble no matter what.
After awhile we talked about having another child but i wasnt ready. Well accidents happen. Lol.
So i ended up pregnant again 2 years later. This time a boy so i wasnt as nervous but i still was a little. Everything was fine with my pregnancy no issues other than i couldnt drink coffee or smell it without getting sick. Should've been my first clue that i was about to have a tough time with this baby boy. My  2nd daughter was a perfect baby, good sleeper, good eater. My son on the other hand, well lets just say that losing Alexis prepared me for the fight that was to come with my son. But thats another story.