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I Want My Babies
Nov 17, 2002
My babies are dead. All my life I wanted to get married and have babies. I had a sad childhood, and I always longed for a happy family, a husband and babies I could love, care for, and cherish. I went to college. I got my MA. All of this was just to pass the time until I met the right man to marry. Nine weeks after our wedding, on my 29th birthday, I became pregnant with identical twin babies. When my husband and I found out at first we were both in shock. Then we were very excited, and elated. I felt truly blessed. I could not believe all of my dreams, the ones I prayed for since I was a little girl, had finally come true. Having had many traumatic experiences in my past I was very cautious about the pregnancy. I read everything I could find so I could do everything right. I was fiercely protective of my babies before they could even move. They were the answer to my prayers.
We had many ultrasounds because they were identical and needed to be monitored closely. I saw my babies at 6 weeks as two tiny circles. We saw one heartbeat at that time. Then at 8 weeks we saw two little beings with heads and hands. We saw both hearts beating and the doctor told us they were alive. I could not believe I had two babies alive and growing strong inside me. I have 4 friends who just had babies and one friend with a baby on the way. I just assumed everything would go along like theirs had. We were planning to tell our families and friends and coworkers the day after my 10-week sonogram. The doctor assured us it would be safe to tell at that point. So 10 days after we saw the heartbeats we went back for our 10-week sonogram on November 14th, 2002. I saw 2 amniotic sacs and was thrilled because I know one sac is much riskier than two. The doctor said this was great news. I could not believe I could see the babies’ noses, heads, and bodies. They really looked like little people. The first thing I noticed after that was the lack of movement. I said, “I don’t see any hearts beating.” The doctor said not to worry he hadn’t even focused on that part yet. Who was he kidding? I don’t need more focus. These are my babies, and I know exactly where I should be seeing their hearts beating. He looked for 3 minutes in silence. I asked if everything was all right. He told me to sit up. He said he was sorry. Their hearts were not beating. They were dead.
I looked at my husband in shock and disbelief. He looked at me the same way. I was waiting for him to say something. This could not be happening. But it had happened. I was carrying dead babies for apparently 5 or 6 days. My doctor scheduled me for a D&C the next day. We left mortified. How could they be dead? What did I do wrong? Even though the doctor said it was not my fault I felt it was somehow something I did. I felt like I was being punished.
While I could not stand the thought of the babies being dead inside of me, I could not bear the thought of someone taking them away. I cried up until my surgery time. When I woke up I felt a little better knowing they were not dead inside of me anymore. By that night I just could not believe they were gone. It’s horribly strange to have babies inside you one day, and have nothing there the next. I also could not believe they expected me to go back to work in a few days. My children are dead. I don’t know how to get past this. It seems hours can go by and I feel like I might be ok. Then I see the maternity clothes, or the box of pregnancy tests, or my flat stomached profile in the mirror and I sob like I never ever sobbed before. It just comes over me in a way that I cannot explain. I don’t want to go back to work. How can I just go on with my days like nothing happened? My husband said he is excited to try for more babies. While he is wonderful and trying to make me feel better, I want the babies back that I had. Why does no one seem to understand that I don’t want to hear how many people they know have had miscarriages? I don’t want to hear that we can have more. I don’t want to hear that it is better that this happened now instead of later. It’s not better now. It could never be better or worse. It is morbid now and I don’t care about the future babies. I wanted to see and hold the babies I will never know. I am grieving for them. I just feel empty and hollow and cold. I miss my babies and I think about them constantly. I will never forget them. I love them unconditionally, and I will love them and miss them until the day when we are joined together again in heaven.
I do believe my babies are looking down on all the other new babies in the world. They are there now to look over them and help keep them safe. Maybe someday they can look down on their own brother or sister and protect them from the tragedy that befell them.
I pray for everyone who has had this experience. May you never have it again and only know the joy of healthy, happy babies.
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