Emotions of Grief

Lisa's story helps us realize how much stress, pain and anxiety we go through during a loss. It, in itself, is a process and a time that most never forget. We grieve "what should have been" and "what is". Time gives us space to make new choices and cope - gradually healing happens and the harsh memories soften.

I will tell you about it, as it might help your association.

I never actually realised that I was pregnant, I had suffered with missing periods on a regular basis, due to some hormone problem.

I eventually plucked up the courage to do a home test, at the beginning of January, of which of course was positive. I went to my doctor then on the 14th of January, who told me I was 17 weeks gone, I nearly died, as I wasn't even showing. That was a Wednesday.

On the Thursday, we told our friends, people in work & parents.

On the Friday I told my mother - who wasn't very happy for me as I wasn't married - she is still a bit old fashioned, but I told her not to be angry until I received my first hospital visit - I had been on a high dosage of anti-biotics before Christmas for a bad tooth absess, and also a lot of pain killers. I think I knew in my own mind that something was wrong.

I wasn't feeling the best in work that morning, very faint and achey. I then went to the toilet and found I was badly constipated - which I thought was from the iron tablets. I rang my gp and he said to take a high fibre drink to clear me - which was at home.

My boss was bringing me home, but before I left I went to the toilet and noticed some bleeding. I rang me doctor, who said it was common with constipation, and to go home and rest.

This was about 2pm. At around 3.30pm I went to the toilet, and felt something coming out of me - I presumed it was going to be the baby, but it was a big ballon/sac of waters. I rang my doctor, who said it was obvious I was losing the baby, and to get into the maternity hospital as soon as possible.

I waited till 5.30pm when Tom came home from work, to go with me. I had to wait for 2 hours to see a doctor, during this time I was bleeding alot, not too heavy though.

They scanned me, I expected them to say the baby was dead. But there was a healthy heart beat, they took head measurements etc. They said that I had miscarried a twin, which I know I didn't as there was no fetus in the sac of waters. They said to go home and not to worry.

I was well the next morning, very pale, tired and depressed. At around 6pm I went to the toilet and passed a huge clot - I rang the hospital and they said don't worry. If it is bigger than a kidney to come in. I ignored them and went to demand to see a doctor.

I had to wait another 4 hours to see a doctor. The same again, they scanned me, a heart beat was found.

They said to go home and rest. When I asked where the clots where from they said my body was clearing out from the twin - a load of rubbish. I complained of severe abdominal pains, they said it was the pressure of the baby - but I was actually in labour.

They sent me home again. I was awake the whole night with pain, but Tom said the doctors knew best.

At about 8am on the Sunday morning, I woke, went to the toilet, and felt something coming, which I thought was a large clot, I tried to wipe it away but it was stuck - I grabbed a mirror, and to my horror, it was the foot of my baby, about 1 inch long, with toe nails. I managed to scream for Tom and an ambulance rushed me to hospital.

I gave birth at 9:47am and was then rushed for an emergency operation, to stop me hemorraging, as the afterbirth stayed inside me. I was given the epidural, and the afterbirth was removed.

I was then paralysed till about 9am that evening, then the sent me home the next day. They handed me a prescription, "in case I got an infection".

Of course, I then got an infection in the womb, they wanted me back to the hospital but I refused, so my doctor put me on very high doses of anti-biotics.

I still hold alot of bitterness for the hospital, as even my own doctor said they should have informed me I was losing the baby.

That is my story.

I just want to say thanks Marcia, as it really helps me writing about my experience, as I find it very hard to talk about it. Regards, Lisa

I was 20 weeks pregnant. From the day we found out we would have our second child (my son Triston is 3) we were excited.

I had some problems with spotting, all of which was said to be "normal". I also had four ultrasounds done. All showing that Jessica was fine, everything "looks great."

I was in for a routine check-up at 18 weeks and everything once again "looked great". I had been having some Braxton-Hicks contractions and my ob said it was normal for me to feel them so early because it was my second pregnancy. "If you have more than 6 in an hour call me".

So, I timed them and they ran at about 6-7 and hour. One night (the night Jessica died) I had 26 in and hour and a half. I went into the office and had an ultrasound done, Jessica had died.

Two days later I was induced, and had my beautiful daughter.

It has been a long and painful journey, but it helps to share my story with others who understand.

Once again - Naming your baby and using your baby's name is okay. Our babies will always be a part of our families!

We lost our baby in week 21-to non-immune hydrops fetalis-cause unknown. Her heart failure got worse, and her kicks stopped. Labor had already started as we waited for 5 days for the termination of the pregnancy.

She was such a pretty little baby-she died during labor.

There is no-one who seems willing to talk about our little Larissa as our child, a baby. We feel so lonely in our grief. We would love to hear from other people with similar diagnoses, and stories; to know we are not alone.

How can we make other people understand that she is one of our children ? Our doctor said "You already have children; what did you need this one for ? You'll soon forget about her" ! We were devastated ! We don't want to forget our little Larissa-she will always be a part of our family.

The light of my life was born at 14 weeks on March 6, 1997, and her name is Kristin Taylor Dooley.

I was engaged to her father for a very short time before finding out I was pregnant. I was 18. I was very scared because I come from a conservative Southern Baptist home, and I was very active in the church. I knew that my parents would be horrified and embarrassed and it took me six weeks after I found out to get up enough courage to tell my mother.

I also knew that my relationship with Justin, my fiance, would be dramatically altered with this information, and I was afraid to tell him also. We had just set our wedding date and gotten my ring: We were to be married on October 31, Halloween, in my home church in Smyrna.

My planning was interrupted by a visit from Justin's old girlfriend, who exposed several truly hideous truths that I had avoided up until that moment. I confronted him the same day and also told him that I was three months pregnant. He was less than pleased at the entire situation and quietly walked away from his future. He came back a week later, but by then it was too late.

My contractions began the night of the confrontation and turned into full fledged labor at about 5 AM on March 6th. I was alone in my house when Taylor was born, and somehow managed to drive myself later that morning to see my doctor, who confirmed what I already knew.

I was shocked and stunned and that lasted for an entire month. I went through the motions, finishing my second quarter of college, and tried to work things out with Taylor's father, whose idea of dealing with the loss was to pretend she never existed. That was easy for him.

I was aware of her existence from two weeks on. I was the one who threw up twice a day and felt incredible changes in my body. I was the one who went through labor, and I was the one who saw my daughter.

To this day, I can close my eyes and see the tiny body that would fit in the palm of my hand, and the dark hair that would have grown into silken curls, and the eyes that I'm sure are green.

My need to deal with reality head on overtook me, and became the deciding factor in ending my relationship with Justin. That was the hardest thing I have ever done, but to stay with him would have been to sacrifice my sanity and safety. I owe Taylor more than that.

I found SHARE through research and attend whenever I can. I have since moved back to Milledgeville where I went to college before I met Justin and am completing my basic sophomore curriculum.

I plan to enter Georgia College and State University's College of Nursing in the fall and pursue a Master's degree specializing in neonatology. Maybe I can save another mommy the heartache of losing the only thing she ever dared to hope for.

My mom turned out to be incredibly supportive - it just took her awhile to adjust. My stepfather still doesn't know that I ever had Taylor. I have also been blessed with beautiful friends, Taylor's "aunts and uncles" - and one really special one who might like to adopt her one day.

There is light at the end of the tunnel. The only answer is to keep on going, keep moving and pushing forward, even when there's nothing that inspires you to go on, even when you're sure you have no strength left to take even one more step. Your baby will hold your hand and guide you. That, for me, is all I need to know.

I too lost my baby. I was sixteen weeks when the doctor told me at my 4th visit that my baby had died in utero. Baby Jesse stopped developing at 13 weeks. I was so excited, my fiance finally got to go to an appointment and he was going to hear the heartbeat, but he never did hear it.

When something like this happens you are numb from the emotional pain, but your baby will never be forgotten, you will carry his/her memory with you for as long as you live. Your baby lives on in your heart.

My fiance and I were going to try again right away..after the dr. gave the okay...(he said to wait 2 cycles to make sure that they are regular, and then it was okay to try).

But...we decided to wait, as much as I would give anything to have a baby to hold and as much as I think about it every day, we decided to get married first.

I recently wrote a song, and am now in contract with a recording company...Please read...God bless!

I was just thrilled to be pregnant again. My daughter was 5yo and I wanted a boy so bad. I had the Norplant removed in October of 1995 and became pregnant in December of 1995. Everything was going great.

I had a six week ultrasound to see actually how far along I was. By my calculations I was right. We heard the heartbeat (and saw it). I had my 10 week check-up and everything was fine.

Went in for my 14 week check-up and they couldn't find a heartbeat. I was so scared. I was by myself (boyfriend at home with my daughter).

They had me go to the hospital for an emergency ultrasound. On the way their I heard a song that will be my son's song forever - Go Rest High On That Mountain - Vince Gill. I cried so hard. Wanting so bad for this to be a bad dream.

I got to the hospital and waited for about a half an hour to do the ultrasound. That was horrible. I had it done and the technician didn't say anything. She wasn't aloud without the doctor being there. I couldn't see the monitor. So I didn't know what was going on. I was released.

I waited again I swear forever. Probably another half an hour or so. The doctor came and said I am sorry your baby has passed on. (I don't think I would want that job). I cried and cried.

Had to call my boyfriend. He rushed down and my best friend had just called before he left and met him down there and took my daughter so I could deal with it.

They said he passed on at about 11 weeks. Nobody knows what exactly happened to Dominick.

We had him buried at a cemetary where a lot of our relatives have been buried. His grandmother bought the plot. I am so greatful to her.

I was scheduled to be induced on March 23, 1996. That was horrible to go through the labor and have nothing to show for it. He was born at 7:44 that night. Weighed 1 pound 6 ounces and was 10 inched long.

We buried our son on March 26, 1996. That had to be one of the coldest days that year. We buried him next to a mountain.

It took us a while but on Thursday, May 7, 1998, his headstone was put on. It took us awhile to save it up. But we did it. Now the world knows all about Dominick Joseph Francis.

March 23, 1996

We love you and miss you a lot my baby boy!!!

Though a bit scared, both of us were getting ready for the arrival of our beloved one. I was only three months pregnant then when we got married. It was difficult somehow coz you have to adjust to a lot of things like doing your role as a wife especially when you're staying with your mother-in-law.

When I had my second check-up on my fourth month, I found out that I had a urinary tract infection(my RBC was 15-30) and so my doctor prescribed me to take Macrodantin 100mg once a day for a week. And so,I did.

Then I had my ultrasound and urinalysis again on my fifth and a half month, and it turned out that the baby was very fine, and my RBC lowered to 6-8.

So, after a week, I went to another doctor, since our family had a problem with the previous doctor. I showed her the results of my urinalysis and ultrasound, she told me that I still had some infection. She prescribed me to take Ampicillin 500mg, four times a day for two weeks.

After two weeks, I went to this doctor again for a regular check-up, and I just found out that there was no fetal heartbeat or movement at all. At first, I could not believe what I heard. Not until I read the result from another ultrasound, it was IUFD(intrauterine fetal death).

The baby's head collapsed. I didn't know what to do at that time, how am I going to tell my husband that the baby who made us one, would no longer be there to share our love with.

I didn't know who's to blame, was it the doctor's fault or mine? They said that the baby's dead for a week already. That was when I was taking the antibiotic. It was so depressing that I even wanted to punish myself for not taking enough care of that baby.

I had an induced labor after two days and labored for about 8 hrs. It was painful not only because of the contractions, but because of the fact that I was going to see my child lifeless.

It was a baby girl. She was physically normal, she had hairs already. The doctor said that even if it survived,it might have a congenital defect. We put her in a sterilized jar filled with formalin. Her head collapsed like she was looking at the sky, her hands were on her right ear and her legs were bent.

She looked very much like her father. I couldn't forget the time when his father cried so much after finding out that we lost her. It was the first time I saw him crying, and it really broke my heart.

Everyday, I locked myself in the room and would always try to see my baby in the jar and say sorry to her. If I could only embrace her for just one moment.

I was so spiritually depressed, that I thought that maybe this was the consequence of my immoral acts. But the support of my family and friends was always there.

But, I was grateful to God also because I know he didn't really abandon me. I know that in every trial we have to face in life, God always sees to it that it is bearable on our part. I was thankful that at least the baby died before the actual birth, coz I know it would be more painful that I might not be able to take it.

It's over a year now, but there are times, especially at night, when I remember her and couldn't help but cry, I was lucky for having a supportive and loving husband. Chris would comfort me in times like this.

But, I would be glad to tell you that I'm pregnant again...three months pregnant. And I don't have UTI now. And I'm more careful now.

I have a 6 yr. old child who is the joy of my life and when I found out I was pregnant again I was so excited!!

I was considered high risk because of my weight but my daughter is a happy and healthy child so I thought that this one also would be healthy and in the beginning, he was.

As of this date they are not sure what happened but I know that I looked so forward to having my baby with me.

I miss him so much and I long to hold him in my arms but the worst part is my family. I have read that families that don't understand tend to "push" it off.(ex. it wasn't meant to be, maybe it was for the best} I don't except that at this point I guess.

But to those out there who have had stillbirths... I do sympathize. I know what it is like and if you need someone to talk to please e-mail me I will be HAPPY to talk.

My story starts with a tubal ligation reversal. I had my tubal ligation reversed in 1992 but it took three years to get pregnant. When finally I found out I was pregnant my husband and I were over the moon. Our dream was coming true.

I had an ultrasound at six weeks and everything was wonderful. I saw my baby's heartbeat and everything was normal. I quite sick with "morning sickness," but that was normal for me.

I went to hospital a couple of times to have a drip but that was nothing new to me. At twenty weeks I had to go and see another doctor to be started on heparin because of a blood clot in my lung that I had with my first pregnancy. That didn't worry me. I had been on heparin before. It was just something I had to do to prevent another clot.

I went to see this doctor on Monday December 11th. On Friday December 8th I noticed a small amount of blood when I went to the toilet. I rang my doctor in a panic, but he wasn't worried. I had sex the night before so he just presumed it was from that.

He told me to lie down with my feet up for an our and see what happened. I did what he said, but after an hour the bleeding was more evident than before. I rang the doctor back and told him so he told me to come to his rooms.

I went to his rooms, but he just said go home you'll be fine just rest. Well he was the doctor so I did just that. The bleeding did seem to stop over the weekend so I kept my appointment with the other doctor.

I was put on heparin, and I was to start that night. As I was waiting for my script to be filled my OB walked past me. He asked how the bleeding was going, and when I told him it had seemed to have stopped he just said I thought it might. I did ask him about taking the heparin though. I was a little unsure of taking it after bleeding, but he said everything was OK and not to worry.

I went home and started on the heparin that night. I was still concerned, but there was no bleeding. The doctor did say that I would be fine so I relaxed with my husband and the world seemed perfect again. That was until about 9:30pm that night.

The bleeding started again. I was terrified. I rang the hospital where I was booked in to have the baby, and the nurse told me to come right down.

My husband drove me to the hospital with me crying the whole way. When we got there the nurse evaluated the blood loss and rang my doctor. I was admitted that night for bedrest and oservation. The following day (Tuesday)the bleeding got heavier. My doctor then decided "we may have a bit of a problem here."

I was just to rest and try not to worry too much. On Wednesday morning the bleeding seemed to have stopped. I was so relieved. I thought everything was going to be OK. The nurses were all smiling, and they were talking about the possibility of me going home in the next day or so.

Then at lunch time that day my nightmare really began. I went to the toilet and my membranes ruptured. I screamed, and a nurse came running. She put me too bed and got the another nurse to check the toilet for my baby. I was hysterical. I hadn't delivered the baby so there was still some hope.

The nurse rang my husband and my doctor then took me to the labour ward. I thought "my god I can't have this baby yet, it's too soon. I kept saying "not yet little one, not yet."

My husband and my doctor both arrived at the same time. My husband was white with fear. The doctor examined me and told us that it wasn't good, but it wasn't hopeless. My cervix was still closed. My husband and I just hung onto each other and clung to that hope.

The bleeding seemed to stop again over night, but I just didn't feel right. I could feel something inside, but I didn't know what it was. When my doctor came in the following morning he was smiling, and he was feeling confident that we might be able to hang onto the baby long enough to get it to a viable age.

I told him that there was something wrong. I couldn't tell him what, only that I could feel something inside. He did listen to me for which I am grateful.

He did an internal examination, and I knew straight away that I was right. The look on his face was enough and then the "oh dear" said it all. My baby's feet had passed through my cervix. I was going to have to deliver my baby, and it was going to be stillborn.

The doctor and nurses left my husband and I alone. The doctor expected me to go into labour myself sometime that afternoon. My husband and I held each other and cried. I didn't go into labour that day. All night I could feel something, but when I buzzed the night nurse he just told me to go to sleep.

The next morning Friday December 15th at 8am I was walked to the labour ward. The longest walk of my life. The doctor did an internal examination. The only part of my baby that had not passed through my cervix was the head.

He put up an I.V to bring on contactions and to dialate my cervix fully. My husband and I held each other and cried together, and the nurse cried with us. The contractions started to get quite strong so my husband was rubbing my back and trying to help me in any way he could.

I started to hemorrage so the nurse got my doctor out of theatre. He came in and told me he was going to have to pull my baby out even though my cervix was not fully dialated. He told me to "grit your teeth it's going to hurt." He was right the pain was excruciating.

At 12:30pm my son Benjamin was born. I don't know if it was from shock, pain or both but moments after my son was born, and the doctor removed my placenta I past out.

When I came to my husband was crying at my bedside. I don't know what the doctor and nurse were doing to me, but they were both standing over me. Apparantly I turned very white, my eyes rolled back into my head and then nothing. I responded to nothing. I don't know how long I was out for but the nurse had never seen anything like it. My husband thought he was going to lose his son and his wife in one day.

We took pictures of our boy, the nurse took prints of his hands and feet, and she made up a card with a little name band and cot card. It is beautiful, and we treasure it. I was released from hospital the next day.

We had Benjamin cremated and sprinkled his ashes in the sea. Ten days later was Christmas. I had to be strong for my children. They deserved as good a Christmas as I could give them.

Then on boxing day(the day after Christmas)I was admitted back into hospital. I was hemorraging and had to have a D&C. I was released the same day.

My children talk about their brother and look at his pictures. We decided to let them see Benjamin, and they nursed him and kissed him so now he is very real to them. They love him with all their hearts as do I and his father.

We decided to try again after losing Benjamin, not to replace him, but we desparately want another child. Unfortunately, I have had two blighted ovums and just recently a stillborn daughter at 21 weeks. But that is another story.

Our daughter, Caitlin

After having a stillborn son Benjamin in 1995 my husband, Darren, and I decided to try again. I had two blighted ovums in '96 and '97.

In January '98 I found out I was pregnant again. I wasn't getting my hopes up though. I had been hurt too many times. I insisted on a blood test followed by a second one two days later to ensure that it wasn't a blighted ovum. It wasn't. I was very nervous but very happy.

I started bleeding at about six weeks, and my heart sank. I was in the hospital at the time due to excessive vommiting so I had an ultrasound. Everything looked fine. The bleeding stopped until four weeks later.

Again I had an ultasound and again everything was OK. My doctor said that some woman just bleed. Four weeks later it happened again. This time my doctor said that I may just get a period every four weeks. I didn't that was the last episode of bleeding.

My pregnancy was going well. I was sick but that is normal for me. I had an ultrasound at 18 weeks and my baby was fine. Rolling around and refusing to keep still. There was no sign of any problems. My husband went overseas with work.

On Friday May 8th I was just getting ready to go to bed. I noticed a small amount of mucusy blood. I calmed myself down and decided to go straight to the hospital. When I got there the nurse rang my doctor, he was there in ten minutes. He told me not to panic.

I was worried that my husband was away. I wanted to try and get hold of him straight away. My doctor told me to calm down and let him do an internal examination and see what was going on. His face told the story. My cervix was 5cm dialated already. I was in labour.

I couldn't be given any drugs to try and stop it because of the bleeding. My doctor told me to try and get hold of Darren and get him home as soon as possible. I tried all day to get hold of him, but I couldn't get through to him.

I was taken to the labour ward. The doctor expected me to deliver that day. (He didn't tell me that until later)I was in the labour ward all that day until quite late into the night.

I kept trying all day to get hold of my husband, but I didn't have any luck. He is in the airforce so I had people trying to find him everywhere. Then the phone rang. The call I had been waiting for. It was Darren. He had a day off so he was out shopping. It was just that he was trying to ring me at home and my friend was there getting things for my children.

Darren went to organise to get home. I felt a little better now that I knew he was coming home. I just had to hang on until he got here. Darren rang back the next flight wasn't until Sunday night so he wouldn't be home until 6am Monday morning.

My friends were wonderful. They took it in turns to sit with me. I was only alone from about midnight until 9am everyday.

The bleeding seemed to slow right down by Sunday night, but I was having contractions. I was having pethadine, and that did seem to stop them.

Darren got home on Monday morning and came straight to the hospital. I was quietly confident at that time. I told him that I was going to stay in that hospital, and then when I got to 23 weeks I would be transferred to another hospital. I only had to hang on another 2 weeks to get this baby to a viable age.

The contractions continued through Monday, but the bleeding had all but stopped. The contractions weren't too bad, and the pethadine stopped them anyway.

The following day was my daughters 9th birthday so we were to have a cake and presents in my room. I didn't feel very well all that day, but I had to make an effort for my daughter.

By about 7pm I had to get my friend to take my kids home. I really wasn't well. I was having more regular contractions, and there was a very uncomfortable pressure. The pethadine was stopping the contractions but not taking away the pressure. My husband stayed with me until the pethadine sent me to sleep. I didn't want him to go I was scared. I think I new then that my baby wasn't going to make it.

At 2am on Wednesday morning I was woken up by contractions. I was given pethadine and went back to sleep. Then at 6am I was woked again by contractions and unbearable pressure. I was given more pethadine, and I went back to sleep again. My doctor came in at about 8am and ordered a catheter to be put in.

The contractions seemed to really flare up after I had used a pan so he thought that maybe it was the filling and emptying of my bladder that was irritating my uterus. The catheter was put in and since I have never had one I didn't know what it was like. I had this terrible pressure all day and a very strange sensation. I thought it was the catheter causing the strange sensation. I spent most of Wednesday asleep from the pethadine I was having to have to help with the contractions.

At 4pm that day I asked the nurse for pethadine. The contractions were quite strong, but it was the terrible pressure that was my main problem. My husband and my kids were visiting.

The contractions got that bad that I asked my husband to ring a friend to collect the kids, and I asked the nurse to ring my doctor and take me to the labour ward. The nurse asked if it was that bad, and I just told her "my baby is coming and it's coming soon."

She listened to me and called my doctor. My kids were collected and I was taken to labour ward. The contractions were now quite strong, and I just couldn't stand the pressure. When my doctor came in he examined me and told us that my membranes were still intact, but there was no cervix. The only thing he could do was to rupture my membranes and let my little baby be delivered.

I can still feel that sensation when he ruptured my membranes. It was pure relief. That awful pressure was gone. Then with two pushes my daughter Caitlin was born.

She was so beautiful. I am sure that I saw her move her little head and try to take a breath. I don't know my husband says she was dead when she came out, but I'm not convinced. I will ask my doctor when I see him in 2 weeks.

We had Caitlin cremated, and her ashes will be scattered on the water, the same as her brother.

Darren has had to go back to Malaysia so I am having a lot of problems dealing with life. He had a week off work after Caitlin was born. Then when he went back to work he was there for another week and then they needed him to return to Malaysia.

We have dealt with the loss of Caitlin better than we did with Benjamin as a couple. We shut each other out with Benjamin, but with Caitlin we realise that we must communicate with each other. We learnt from our mistakes.

People tell us we can't possibly try again, but the pain is just to raw to make that decision. I don't know if I could ever go through this kind of heartache again. I don't know how I am going to get through it this time. Only time will tell...

Wednesday May 20, 1998 our beautiful daughter was born. She was 19 weeks old.

Our first child, Jacob, was born at 29 weeks. He weighed 2 lbs 8 oz. My second pregnancy ended in a miscarriage at 6 weeks.

We were so excited when we learned I was pregnant again. I found out I was pregnant within a week of the due date of the child I miscarried. I was determined to do everything right. I saw a dietician and ate a healthy diet. I exercised. Ive never smoked nor drank. After the first trimester ended, I began to breathe a sigh of relief. All was going well.

I was scheduled for an ultrasound on Thursday, May 15th. We wanted to find out if we were having a boy or a girl. Instead my husband and I learned that our baby had an enlarged heart. Although I was almost 19 weeks along, the baby only measured 15 weeks. That evening instead of celebrating our childs life, we were wondering if it would survive.

My midwife set up an appointment for us to meet with a perinatologist for an ultrasound. Unfortunately we couldnt be seen until Monday. That meant we had the weekend to pray.

After meeting with a genetic counselor on Monday, we went to see the perinatologist. A few moments after he started the ultrasound he turned to me and told me that our babys heart had stopped beating.

The decision was made to have an amniocentisis so that we might be able to find out what caused the heart defect. The amnio hurt so bad. I held my husband's hand and cried for our child.

We then went to my midwifes office to discuss our options. I did not want to have a D&E. This was our baby and I could not imagine ripping it from my body. We chose to induce labor and deliver naturally (not necessarily without drugs). The process was to start the next day by using lamineria to open the cervix.

On Wednesday morning we arrived at the hospital at 8 am. I was very nervous. Our son had been born by cessarian and I had never gone through labor before. It took all day for my body to start labor. By 6 pm I was having steady contractions and I was given morphine for the pain. It did not take it all away. In fact, the pain was still quite intense, but it was short.

At 9:30pm our baby was born. We had a girl. We both held her and felt her presence.

My own baby girl. We named her Juanita Isom E. after my husband's grandmother who died a year ago. I know that she is in Heaven looking out for our baby until we get there. We took her body to Utah and buried her near her ancestors, near her great-grandmother Juanita.

Many people ask me, How far along were you? I dont quite understand the question. Does it matter? I had a baby. She had a perfect little body and I know her spirit. Some day I will meet her again. It doesn't matter if I was 6 weeks or 40 weeks. This was my child and I miss her.

We received the results of the amnio. The chromosomes were perfect and there were no infections. The cause of death remains unknown.

I am thankful for an incredible midwife who helped make this experience a positive rather than a negative. I thank my Heavenly Father daily for the miracle of my son, our firstborn.

I am most thankful for my husband. He has been by my side through this whole experience. He has held me and cried with me. I couldnt imagine doing it alone.

I am thankful for my daughter. Although she was only here for a short time, I will remember her forever.

When I found out I was pregnant I was so happy. The day I found out my baby was never going to live was the worst day of my life.

My husband and I decided to induce labor and end the pregnancy. The doctors said there was NO HOPE. I will never forget those words as long as I live.

I had a beautiful little girl on February 25, 1997. I was 22 weeks along. Hannah Joy weighed one pound, eight ounces. She was ten and three-quarters inches long. She already had long, long legs just like her Daddy.

They tell me I held her almost two hours, but I don't believe it. It feels like she was taken away from me before I ever got a chance to know her. I wish I could hold my little girl one more time.

Hannah, I want you to know I love you. I miss you so much.

I'm doing pretty good most of the time, but then I'll hear a mother call out "Hannah" and my heart starts aching and my arms yearn to hold you. I wonder if it ever gets any easier.

I want to have another baby, but I could never dream of replacing you. I will never forget you Hannah Joy.

It's been 7 months since my last loss. I say last because we have lost three babies in 3 years. Two in the same year.

First was Christian I miscarried him at only seven weeks, some people as unsensitive as they can be sometimes felt like that was no big deal I barely had time to realize I was even pregnant much less form a bond of any sort, but I had and it was hard, I had only been married a short time when this tragedy occured and it put a strain on my marrige.

Then I found out I was pregnant again, I could not have been happier. I just knew everything would be alright this time, but unfortunatly not.

I was five months along when it came time to have my second ultrasound, this time we could find out it's sex, we were so excited. We came to the hospital video tape and all, we were a little disappointed when the tech told us they could not tape the ultrasound. I so wanted to show it to everyone. But we were tickled just to get a chance to see it.

The tech began to show my husband, who's never seen a ultrasound before all of its parts and then she just stopped, and said I will be right back I have to get some one to double check me.

I knew something was wrong. It was then I noticed there was no flashing light to indicate a heartbeat. I started to cry and my husband said no everything is alright. But I knew in my heart it wasn't.

The supervisor came in and looked a little while and my husband said is something wrong? She said yes the baby is growing like it should. I knew she was lying. I asked about the heartbeat but she said sometimes you can't see it this early. I knew she was lying, but I so wanted to believe her.

I had to go back to my doctors office, and hear her say sorry its heart is not beating. I am afraid it has died. Then she told me I would have to have my labor induced and deliver in the next few days.

It was like watching a bad movie or being in a nightmare that I couldn't wake up from. The next day I asked for another ultrasound just to make sure. same results.

The following morning I went to the hospital to have my baby, but there was no joy. I wouldn't be bringing it home it was over agian. It took about 5 hours for it to be born.

I took a shower and the nurse came in while I was still in the shower and said it was a boy. A boy, I knew it was, but somehow hearing it from her mouth made the wound deeper.

I was trying so hard to be strong since I don't show my emotions often and especially in front of others. I broke done in the privacy of the shower.

When I finished I was given the option of a funeral, here I was in my twenties planning a funeral for my son. This wasn't really happening I thought. But it was. I am so greatful to the hospital for providng such services, it gives me a place to go.

Also, the picture to look at to know he was here, and he was real. We named him Elijah, oh how I love that name. And oh how I love him, he is my son.

Then a year later I was with child again hoping for the best. Same story basically except for delivery and afterwards.

It was a different hospital different doctor and this time a girl.

But I found out the same way at the ultrasound. Except this doctor called me at home and said he didn't believe the ultrasound because his nurse said she heard the heartbeat that day. So he told me to come in in two days for a repeat ultrasound but she didnt wait that long.

The next morning about 6:00 am I woke to cramps and back pain. I woke my husband to take me to the hospital. While he was getting my 8 year old son up I went to the bathroom, and as I stood up I felt something and sat back down. She came out in my hands, I was 18 weeks along, I screamed for my husband and went into shock. He called 911 and they sent a ambulance, but I wouldn't get up. My husband had to force me to.

At the hospital I was told she was a girl.

I was never given the options I had before: no funeral, no pictures, nothing. Oh how I wish I had been given at least one.

Its been hard these past few months, but I find my faith in the Lord. I know my babies are in heaven waiting on me. I know that they are being rocked in the arms of Jesus and some sweet day I will be rocked in those same arms to with my 3 Little Angels.

My son died six weeks ago. He died before he was born. It was the most painful experience of my life. Parents are suppose to protect their children, we could not do that for our son.

Our baby was conceived on July 14, 1996 and he died on January 10, 1997. My pregnancy had been perfect.

The first trimester went beautifully. We first heard his heartbeat at 10 weeks, it was a wonderful and amazing sound. During the second trimester, at 18 weeks, we had a sonogram. It was our first glance of our son, he was perfect. He was active and growing properly.

We sailed through the holidays ( he got more presents than we did!) and settled on a name, Canyon Taylor. At 24 weeks I had a glucose tolerance test, everything was great.

On January 9th, I ask my doctor an innocent question. I felt like Canyon had not been moving much in the last few days and I wondered how much babies moved.

I was immediately sent for a sonogram. Five hours later, I was on my way to a fetal specialist.

I was concerned, but not panicked. In this modern world we have miraculous technology. I was prepared to stay in bed throughout my pregnancy, have surgery, or many other inconvenient things.

I was not prepared for what happened. That man looked at me and said, "I'm sorry, your baby has died." It was, without a doubt, the most devastating thing I have ever been told.

We were told that we could wait for labour to begin in a few weeks, or we could induce it the next morning. We wanted to hold our child, to see him in our arms and meet him face to face, so we opted to induce.

We went home and called family and friends. We had expected to announce the birth of our son with great joy, and we did, but that joy came mixed with sadness and grief. We packed quickly and left for the hospital.

My labour began at 7:30 Friday morning, Canyon was born at 5:40 that afternoon. There were no cries, no apgar score, no scurrying nurses. Just a quiet, calm room.

The nurses gave Canyon a bath and brought him to us. He was absolutely perfect. We held him, rocked him and prayed. We prayed that God would watch over our son and that He would give us the strength to get through our grief. We took lots of pictures.

We knew that we would have very little time with him and that memories fade. We also wanted something tangible for our family, they would not be able to meet Canyon in person.

We called our church and the funeral home, not the usual numbers you keep in a baby bag. Both were very helpful.

The nurses offered to transfer us off of the maternity ward, thinking that it might make us sad to be around happy parents and healthy babies. It did not. We were reassured that sometimes things do work out right.

The days after his birth/death were filled with quiet, not what you expect in a house with a new baby. Timothy and I spent time crying together and remembering the time we had spent with Canyon. We sat in his nursery and held his blanket. We looked at pictures and dreamed of what might have been.

They were days that strengthened our marriage and brought us closer to God and each other. We had asked for a baby and had been given an angel, and what a precious gift he was.

You might wonder how a baby that never breathed could make a difference in this world. I would like to assure you that they do. Canyon began changing our lives from the moment he was conceived. We went from being a couple to being a family.

Canyon forced us to simplify our lives and focus on what is truly important in this world, our marriage and our family. He was the first grandchild on my side and the "baby's" first baby on my husband's side. Canyon was very much desired and loved. Desire and love, however, do not guarantee a healthy baby.

Canyon's death has taught us much about life. It has made us a little more tolerant and a lot more sensitive. We no longer get so caught up in the daily chores of life that we forget to look at the small things.

We treasure our nieces and nephews even more. Seeing children makes us smile and think about what son might have been like. We want more children, but we realize that the one we had was very special.

Although things are getting better, I know that we still have difficult times ahead of us. Simple things sometimes catch me off guard. When I see a new baby, I am reminded of what we have lost, but I am also reminded of what we had.

Canyon will be with us forever, and I am looking forward to holding him in heaven someday. It is hard to say hello and goodbye at the same time, but I wouldn't trade my son for anything in the world. He put a lifetime of joy into an instant.

If I could teach you one thing about losing a baby, it would be to appreciate the time you have with your children. Those quiet moments when you play kicking games, the first sonogram when you see your child moving, rocking them to sleep while they are still tucked safely inside you - these are the most special times you may spend with your child. Treasure every one of them.

I was 29 wks pregnant, and all was going well, until I had my ante natal appointment. Midwife couldnt find the heartbeat,so they told us to go to Portsmouth Hospital to check it out, they thought perhaps he was lying in an strange positon! Our worst fears faced us, he had died that very day.

It took 3 days for him to be delivered, I felt like a walking tomb. I was in such shock, all the drips and drugs they were pumping in me made me feel blank, just as well really.

At 1.55am Daniel was born. I was overjoyed ironically. After those 3 terrifying days, at last he was born. He looked so handsome, so peaceful, just as though asleep, which he was, only he was never going to wakeup. Then it hit me, I hadn't given birth, I had given death. This was when realisation hit me, hit me hard.

We had him blessed, which helped, and a week later we buried him. I was lucky, I held him, kissed him, told him I loved him, and that he should not be afraid, as he was going to heaven to be with my daddy, his granpa. Then they took him away.

I miss him, his smell, his tiny body...... My body still thinks its pregnant!!! I wake in the night believing he is within me, but my womb is barren, empty. My heart is full of love. So I dont feel so empty. He is within me, reborn inside me.

I miscarried my baby on May 22,1998. I was four months pregnant when I lost my baby.

Four days before I miscarried, I saw and heard my baby heartbeat during an Ultra Sound. My husband and I were so excited to see him and hear his strong heart.

At that time, we did not know if we had a son or daughter, we only wanted a healthy baby. We have seven other children (five girls and two boys) so this baby was very much wanted and loved by all of us.

A few days before my miscarriage, I was feeling alittle sick with a headace, but I thought nothing was wrong since I have a history of very bad headaches. I feel asleep most of the day until I felt better.

On Friday May 22, while I started to take a shower to go to the doctors (I had an appt), I felt a gush of water come out and when I checked myself, I saw blood come out(not alot). But by the time my husband came from work to take me to the hospital, I bleed all over my clothes.

On the way to the hospital I felt something drop and a gush of blood come out, I was very scared and so was my husband.

The doctor checked me and told me that "yes" I had miscarried and that my baby's arm was sticking out of me.

When we heard the word MISCARRIAGE, both our hearts fell and we hugged each other and just started to cry. I couldn't believe it, it wasn't true, maybe he will be alive when its time to take my baby out.

Actually, they tried to pull him out so they would not have to do a D&C, but he was able to come out so easily. So, I laid on the bed for five hours for my doctor to come and do the D&C.

As I laid there bleeding and having my baby's arm sticking out of me, all I could do was cry and hold my belly as if I was craddling him in my arms. They finally did the D&C, and that's when I found out I had a son.

After the surgery, I couldn't stop crying for my baby that would not be here.

I asked to see him, which I did and I cried as I held the plastic container he was in. I kissed his container and told him that I loved him very much. Then, in the recovery room, I told my husband that I saw our son and he wanted to see him too.

They took us into the nursery, but put us in a separate room away from the mommies and their newborns(Thank God). There, they brought us our baby wrapped in a pink and blue wash cloth. Our David Jason only weighed at 4.9ozs and he fit in the palms of our hands.

We held him and kissed his tiny fingers and toes and cried. My husband kept holding him close to his body and rubbing his checks, hoping to warm him up(his body was cold) so he could open his eyes and be okay. But unfortunately, that never happened so all we could do was sing and kiss and rock our beautiful baby boy that was now an angel in Heaven.

Our children were also able to told and kiss their brother and say their goodbyes to him. We all cried and cried and held each other.

Our priest came to the hospital and baptized our son which we were glad that he was baptized. After about almost two hours with our baby, they had to take him away, which was one of the hardest thing to do--let go of your baby.

As I left the hospital that evening, I felt so empty without my baby in my arms which normally is the joyous moment of our lives. I cried that whole night and could not sleep.

We had a service for our son which included the rosary for him. I have his ashes in a beautiful Angel Urn and his pictures with lighted candles every day! I need to have his Urn with us because when I miss him terribly (which is every minute of every day), I hold his Urn and rock him.

Well, five months have passed and now I am dealing with his due date which is Oct.18,1998 which is very difficult to deal with. I am going to two support groups and am seeing a therapist.

I am trying to take it one day at a time but it sure is hard to do. I will forever hold my baby in my heart and one day I know I will be able to hold my David Jason and never let him go. He will finally be with his mommy and daddy.

Thank you for letting me tell my story--it helps to tell it. Olga Parker

I was 20 weeks pregnant when I miscarried my son, on the 4th October 1998. I have photos of Darin and saw him a few times and i just thought how perfect and beautiful he is. We chose the name Darin because it means precious present,which is just what he is.

We had a funeral for him on the 22nd of october 1998, and he is buried close by where I live.

Darin may have only been with us for such a short time, but he has had such a profound effect on all our lives, including my other daughters Stephanie aged 7 and Hayleigh aged 3.

I will never forget Darin he has left such a void in my life, but I`m slowly coming to terms with him not being here. My arms feel so empty.

Before my son was ever born I never imagined of naming him Angel, but now after everything that has passed, that name is perfect for him.

I became pregnant in May of last year. Since I had very regular cycles I found out that I was expecting the day I was expecting my period. Something told me to get a pregnancy test. Everything was fine at least that is what I thought.

When I was 15 weeks I got very bad pains on my side so I went to my doctor, and they did an ultrasound to see if it was my appendix. My appendix was fine, they told me that it was my ligaments stretching.

When I was 19 weeks I went for one of my routine visits, and the doctor mentioned that his heartbeat was low. We became scared, but she told us that everything was fine, that it was all perfectly normal.

Since I was 17 years old and he was my first child I believed her. She scheduled a mid-pregnancy ultrasound for two weeks later.

The day of my ultrasound which was September 28. I was very excited. I went with my fiance and my mother to the doctor. We were very eager to learn the sex of our child.

The technician started - when she suddenly said your baby has problems I'll be right back. I started to cry and since my mom and my fiance had not heard her I told them what she had said, and they told me not to worry.

That is when the doctor came in. She looked at me and said, "I'm so sorry, there is not a heartbeat" I immediately started to cry, and I hugged my fiance. I felt like I ws going to die!

That night they induced labor at the hospital. I was 21 1-2 weeks along.

My son was born at 4:43 a.m. on September 29. He was 8 inches long and weighed 12 ounces. I saw my son and he looked just like his daddy.

That broke my heart even more. They asked me if I wanted a picture. I said no. I really regret that now.

My son mean the world to me. Even though its really hard all the time I understand that if he went back to heaven its because his mission here was accomplished.

He accomplished so much here. He made me realize what the important things in life really are, and he filled my heart with the kind of mother love that you can only imagine. I feel lucky to have met my guardian angel.

Angel: My love we miss you! Me and your daddy want you to know that you mean the world to us. You have put so much happiness in our life and every single day we love you more and more. Until I see you again, Love mommy.

I have read many of the articles listed, and have been moved by them. I would like to share my story, please excuse me if it is jumbled a bit!

I had gone to my regularly scheduled appointment at 23 wks. very excited only to have this be the most devastating day of my life. Everything had been going so well. I had an amnio done on Dec. 3rd to rule out possible chromosomal problems. The next 10 days were excruciating to wait out.

My husband made the call to see if the results were in, I was too afraid to call. The results were the best we could have gotten. The baby was perfect, no problems of any kind, and it really was a girl! I cried for the next hour, out of relief and happiness.

The next 5 wks. were great. We had a wonderful Christmas, and I finally started to relax about the pregnancy. We felt that this was really going to happen, we would really have a beautiful, healthy baby girl! We got the crib, car seat, and many many baby supplies sent by my sister in law on Sunday.

On Wednesday, January 6, 1999 we went to my doctors appt.

The Dr. said how it was just a routine appt. and asked if we had any questions or concerns. My husband explained that I had stated at breakfast that the baby wasn't moving as she usually did.

I had felt movement, just not the strong kicks and punches that I had been feeling lately. The Dr. looked at me and said "no?" He explained that sometimes babies just get quiet, exactly what I had read in all my baby books. He was not really concerned nor was I.

He came over to have a listen. He did not pick anything up on the Doppler, and explained that he was going to get the ultrasound machine. We still were not concerned, although the Dr. may have been. There were other times when he had to get the machine, usually because she was so active that she'd make too much noise to hear well.

When he came back it didn't take him 30 seconds to say. "I'm sorry I have to tell you the worse possible news, there is no indication that your baby is alive and it looks as though she has been dead for about 24 hours."

I yelled out and grabbed my husband, he was questioning. "What?" and "Are you sure?"

After leaving us alone with our tears the Dr. came back to tell us that I would have to be induced and deliver the baby. Deliver the baby? I cried and said that I did not want to do that.

He explained that it was the safest option, and that I would have to do this. He expressed sincere sorrow. He explained that I could go home and go to the hospital in the morning or that I could go tonight. I didn't see the point in going home, its not like I would sleep!

We went home to pack a bag and call my mother.

I arrived at the hospital and was given another ultra sound. Oh how we prayed they had made a mistake. But it was confirmed that our baby girl had died.

They induced labor and we waited. I watched my contractions on the monitor all night. Although they had given me a sleeping pill, I never slept.

My mother and mother in law flew down, and arrived by 1:30 the next day. My best friend was also with us. I don't know what we did all this time but after 19 hours I delivered at 7:15 on Friday evening. My husband had his head in my chest the whole time, praying that God wouldn't take us both.

She was a beautiful baby girl! She had mommies feet, very long legs, and daddies little ears. She weighed 1lb 9oz. which was big for her age. She was far more beautiful than I had imagined!

I was very afraid to see my little baby, I kept thinking, it was too soon for her to be born, she wasn't ready yet! It was so very hard for me to push when the Dr. would tell me to push, I didn't want to push my baby out! I didn't want her to leave me!

After asking 2 different doctors if we should have an autopsy performed they both told us the same thing. That the autopsy would only be able to check what the amnio had already checked, and since we knew there was nothing wrong with the baby it would more than likely not give any reasons. So we decided not to have this done.

Numerous tests were done on my placenta and blood. The results came back showing everything was normal. Normal! Than how come my baby is dead!!!

This has been the hardest thing I have ever had to go through. There are times when I have just wanted to die, to be with Payton as well as to be rid of this incredible pain! If we did not have the support of our friends and family I don't believe we would have made it.

Trying to make funeral arrangements would have been impossible! We had her cremated by a private company and have her ashes with us. Her funeral service was on Tuesday. A private service with only immediate family. It is hard to accept that our little Payton Elizabeth has left our lives.

I feel for all of you out there who have experienced this incredible loss. I wish you strength and love!! Amy

Janurary 14 of this year has been the most horrible day of my life ever. I was 16 weeks pregnant and spotting. I had had spotting with my first son, rushed to the hospital, and in the end, he was born two weeks overdue. So I figured it was another stage in my pregnancy.

After a few days, I started to worry. I had yet to feel my baby move, so to be on the safe side I went in to the clinic to be sure everything was alright.

In the clinic, when I told the nurse my symptoms, she placed me in a room and a midwife came in to see me immediately. My regular OB was on maternity leave.

She asked me to have my blood drawn to test for a specific birth defect, then she would listen for my baby's heartbeat. I had heard my baby's heartbeat prior at 11 weeks.

When the midwife tried listening for a heartbeat, she couldn't find one. She asked a nurse to come in with a second doppler and they both tried, pressing so hard on my uterus that I felt a powerful kick to the right of my abdomen. The nurse believed my baby had kicked me.

I believed everything to be alright. They still couldn't find a heartbeat so the midwife asked me to go to US to make sure everything was okay.

When I got to US, the technician asked me some questions then looked at my ovaries and bladder. Finally, she looked at my baby, measured the head circumference then looked for a heartbeat. I saw her run the scan twice, but it still didn't dawn on me that anything was wrong. She then told me she wanted to show the radiologist the pictures and she would return.

It dawned unto me then that there was something wrong with my baby, but I never in my life expected to hear what the radiologist said. He came in and said "I'm sorry. The baby has no heartbeat. It looks to have passed away at 13 weeks." My husband and I started crying. They left us and said we had the room for as long as we needed it.

My sister was watching my 11 month old son, so we left right away. It was hard for me to go home and tell my family. I have never cried so much in my life.

On the advice of the OB that I was seeing at the time, I went home and waited to miscarry my baby naturally. I told her that I could not handle seeing my baby dead. She said I would notice cramps, bleeding, and tissue, but my baby would pass without me knowing it.

On Jan.14, after 6 hours of contractions, my water broke, and I delivered my baby into the bathtub.

My Angel was so perfect, six inches long, with finger and toes formed already. The OB wanted me to bring the tissue in for testing, but instead, I brought in a fully formed baby, still attached to the umbilical cord, still attached to the placenta.

I never went back for the results of the tests. I was sent a bill a month later for surgical pathology done on my baby.

My due date was June 29. I have requested my medical records and hope to find out soon the cause of my baby's death.

I miss my Angel everyday. No other baby will ever replace my Angel baby's place in my heart and memories. I Love You my sweet Angel, forever and ever.

We just had a baby on 11-4-98 and finding out in April that we were expecting again in late Dec or early Jan caught us offguard but we were excited.

It would be our second baby together. He had all girls so far.

Then we went to the dr. on July 19 and he could not find a heartbeat so he sent me to u/s and they confirmed that our little 16 week baby was not alive.

I walked around for two days just numb as could be. On July 21 we went to the hospital and I was given pills to induce labor. It took 12 hours and it was the worst 12 hours of my life.

Then at 5:50p.m I deliverd my second baby boy, his first baby boy. The pain is soo intense I would have never even have understood till it happened.

Most of all I feel so bad for him, it would have been his only son. I tell him how sorry I am and I feel so terrible for the loss. I know we will feel better with time, but I will always carry the pain and guilt of the loss of our Joshua James.

I am grateful for this "SHARE".

My daughter Kathleen Grace was born on July 20, 1999. We had lost her the previous day and there is nothing which can truly described what it felt like to have the doctor search for a heartbeat which is no longer there. I felt so lost, and after so much struggle to loose her.

She has a wonderful story which starts with a prefect vacation. 8 full days in January of Grand Cayman Sun.

To our surpise when we returned from the islands, we both had caught the flu. My husband got better, and I didn't know what to do.

On February 9th, I wasn't any better and had my suspicions, and the test read positive. This was the start of a very hard and long road.

Three trips to the hospital for IV fluids, one lasting a whole week. At 12 weeks they took out my gallbladder, but told me the baby was fine. And I rejoiced at hearing the heartbeat and seeing her kick and wave on the ultrasound.

At 20 weeks, just as planned I started to feel her kicks. And by 22 weeks I was laying quietly ... hoping and wishing to feel anything. She wasn't moving. I called the doctor and she seemed fine on the ultra sound. Waving her hands.

At 25 weeks the doctors said I had pregnancy induced hypertension. I left my job, and learned to stay quiet. I was listening for her, I couldn't feel her, and she still wasn't moving.

At 27 weeks, we went for a check up. The doctor came in and tried to find a heartbeat. He was very quiet and very still, but here was no sound. He suggested that we go and get and ultra-sound.

Together the three of us (My husband, me and our doctor) walked into the ultra-sound room. He dimme dthe lights and turned on the machine ... Nothing .... He looked and looked and finally I said "It's not there".

My husband asked what this meant and the doctor said "I'm sorry - She's lost the baby" My husband hit his knees sobbing and I just laid there stunned.

"Oh God, why our baby. We had tried so hard and we had such a rough time. Why? God? Why?"

Our doctor held us through the first wave of tears and then he told me that he was going to induce labor. He said that it was the safest way although he knew that it felt inhuman to put us through it.

17 hours later, she was born. Kathleen Grace O'brien 17 1/2 inches long and 1 pound 2 oz. She had my nose and her father's cheeks and chin.

My grief is new, and I hope to have another child. But know that she will always be in my heart. My mother now holds her in heaven becuase I cannot.

We scattered her ashes at Folly Beach, South Carolina. She came to us by the sea, and there we brought her back, but forever she will be in our hearts.