Isabelle's Story

The night before Julia's funeral was the first time that I began writing about my experience. This blog has been a comfort for me ever since then, and it all began with writing about Julia's birth.

Now, 15 months later to the day, I can write her sister's story. I have struggled with writing anything since Isabelle was born. This is Julia's blog, and I am hesitant to post anything that doesn't relate to her in some way. I have a necklace I wear around my neck with a "J" for Julia and the heart they gave us at the hospital when she was born. I received a beautiful "I" as a gift, but just couldn't bring myself to wear it on the necklace. That necklace is one of the few things that is all Julia's.

But Isabelle's story is also Julia's story- for she wouldn't be here if not for her big sister. So here it is...

My due date was April 19th (40 weeks) but it had been decided that I could have a c-section at around 37 weeks, as long as I was willing to have an amnio to check for lung maturity. The amnio was scheduled for 10 a.m. on Thursday, April 2nd, with the c-section on Friday, April 3rd at 10 a.m. My father drove us to the hospital on Thursday morning and we nervously went upstairs for the amnio. As my doctor had broken her arm, we knew she would not be performing the procedure. Another doctor did the amnio, and we were surprised and terrified to learn that there was meconium in the fluid. This is the same thing that Julia had, and while it did not cause her death, it definitely did not help. It was quickly decided that we would head up to labor and delivery and be admitted until the baby was born.

We got set up in a room upstairs around noon, and our midwife showed up shortly after to be with us. The baby was on the monitors and was looking fine. Dr. Brustman stopped by and said she was doing everything she could to make sure the c-section happened ASAP, while at the same time assuring us that the meconium was not a cause for concern. Around 1:30 we were told that the c-section was going to happen later that afternoon. The next few hours were filled with tests and consent forms and questions galore. It made the time pass and before I knew it I was walking to the OR doors and kissing Josh goodbye. It wasn't until that moment that I really started to panic. I was only leaving Josh for 15 minutes (while they administered the spinal block), but it was really hard. I felt like I was abandoning him in the hall, the same hall where he was forced to wait while Julia was born. The same hallway where he was told that she died.

I walked into the OR and just started shaking. I was so scared but knew I needed to keep it together. They administered the spinal and before I knew it I was numb and laying down on the table. Josh and Elizabeth (our midwife) were at my sides, with Elizabeth talking us through everything that was happening. The c-section was not painful, but I felt every tug and pull. There was a bright light shining in my eyes and Josh spent the entire time with his hand over my eyes to shield me from it. At a certain point Elizabeth told us that the baby was going to be born. I remember just closing my eyes and saying over and over again "Please be okay, Please be okay." They pulled her out and within seconds she made one short cry... and then another and another. Josh went over to see her while they were suctioning her, and I just closed my eyes and listened to the sweet sound of her scream.

Within a matter of minutes they swaddled her up and brought her over to my face. As soon as they did this I was reminded of the same thing happening with Julia. I remember feeling Julia's cheek and how cold it was. And now here I was feeling her sister's warm cheek against mine.

They finished the surgery and transfered my to the recovery room, where I was able to hold Isabelle and introduce her to her grandparents. The rest of the stay in the hospital was blissfully uneventful and we came home on Sunday, April 5th. The time since then has been surreal. After Julia died, I would wake up each day and say, "I was pregnant, I had a baby, and she died." Now I wake up each day and say, "I was pregnant, I had a baby, and I am holding her in my arms." It is still hard to believe that she is here, and she is mine.