|16weeks, 3 days|
|18 weeks, 3 days|
When I arrived, Juanita, the RN, weighed me and took my vitals. YAY! I only gained 1lb in the last 4 weeks. Not too shabby. I went into the examination room and waited for Shelley to arrive. It was business as usual. She congratulated me on making it pretty much half way through with no issues. Then, she asked what I like to call "feeling" questions. How was I doing? How were things at home? If we were ready to find out if you were a boy or a girl.
Shelley grabbed the doppler for my favorite part of the visit. It's either that or ultrasounds. Anything to see or hear my little one. She placed the doppler on my belly and searched around for you. Ahh, tricky tricky. I guess you figured that last time we found you much too fast and so easily. We knew you were hiding out somewhere. So she grabbed the ultrasound cart just to find you.
Finding you was no problem at all. There you were, laying spine to spine with me. But there was a problem. I couldn't see or hear your heart beat. And neither could midwife Shelley. She searched and searched for about 5 minutes. Then she went to grab another doctor and apologized for scaring me. She figured maybe you were sitting lower. I felt my body get hot and my eyes well up with tears. I took a deep breath and asked you to show yourself and stop scaring mommy. I text daddy who was at work and told him I was worried and I wished that he was there. I was actually angry at him for not being there at that moment.
The other lady doctor came in and had mommy pull her pants past her hips. She wanted to get a better scan. I laid back and watched the screen and I could see your head and arms. I still couldn't see your heartbeat. The other lady doctor said that we should do a transvaginal ultrasound. They left the room and I undressed and immediately panicked. I text daddy again. This time, I told him that they couldn't find a heartbeat.
The midwife and the lady doctor came back in the room and started the 2nd ultrasound. This time, they confirmed my biggest fear. She showed me the heart and the three of us saw that there was no heartbeat. She rubbed my knee and apologized then left the room. I sat up, numb. Once I realized what had just been said, my hands met my face and I cried uncontrollably.
And just like that, you were gone in spirit. No more baby Gunther. Shelley left the room and gave me a moment. I called up daddy and just cried into the phone. I could tell that he was really upset too. He left work to meet me.
After a few moments, more tears and confusion, I was talked to about 2 options. Surgical removal or induction. Neither of which sounded favorable. I told the midwife that I was probably more interested in the surgery option. I couldn't see myself delivering a child that I could not take home with me. Just the thought made me cry even harder. If you were to leave my womb, I wanted to take you home with me. I looked forward to hearing your first cries, staying up all night with you and reading to you.
I'm so angry. We had so much more growing together to do. Daddy wanted to tell you jokes, and mommy wanted to read and play music for you. We had plans on registering, since grandma and everyone back home was more than ready to spoil you rotten.
On June 1, 2012, we were to finally find out if you were team pink or blue. Both mommy and daddy felt like you were a boy, but everyone else thought girl. It didn't matter much anyhow, we were prepared to welcome you with loving arms.
So today, May 30, I sit here with tears in my eyes, struggling to type this. I've already told a few people that are closest to me, but how would I tell the other people who have been so supportive and loving over these last 5 months? This is the only way I knew how. I sit here, with a dead child in my belly typing away and all I can do is wipe the tears and continue. I have never grown to love anyone as strongly as I loved baby Gunther in such a short amount of time. I may not have the chance to hold you in my arms, but I want you to know that in these 5 months, you have changed our lives forever.