The Saddest Day of My Life By Cami Morgan Print
Birth Stories - C-Section Birth Stories
Wednesday, 11 February 2009 09:41
I found out I was pregnant when I was only two weeks along. I never believed it when people said that they just knew; but, I did. There was just something different about the way I was feeling. I couldn't have been happier when I found out that I was going to have a baby!

I was twenty-one years old (only two months from my 22nd birthday). I wasn't married, but I was living with Peter, my fiance--my baby's father, and we really wanted this baby. We did plan the pregnancy, I guess. I stopped my birth control pill and we weren't using any protection, but we didn't expect it to happen so fast. Only six days off the pill and I was pregnant. I didn't care!! I'd wanted a baby for so long. . .

I had the perfect pregnancy. I didn't get morning sickness or heartburn. I just enjoyed the fact that I was pregnant and counted the days until I would be able to hold my little one in my arms. I was due on July 26, 2000 and anxiously awaiting that date!

On July 4, I lost my mucous plug. Everyone I knew was convinced that it would be "any day now". I waited. . .I was having a few contractions and some random pains, but nothing I could time or in a pattern, so I just waited.

July 26 came and went with not a contraction. I knew my little one would be stubborn, like it's mother, by this point. I didn't mind; I just kept waiting. From the beginning of the pregnancy, Peter and I had decided that we didn't want to know the sex of the baby. This was the first for both of us and we wanted it to be a surprise. By this time though, I really wanted to meet this person growing inside me.

July 31 I had a non-stress test and my doctor scheduled my induction for August 6. Only 6 more days; I was so excited! My doctor then called on August 4 and told me that I could go in on August 5 to have my baby, if I wanted to, because he had another mother to induce that day and he could do two induction just as easily as one.

So on August 5, 2000, Peter and I drove to the hospital to have our baby. Little did we know that what was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives was about to turn into our worst nightmare!

We checked into the hospital and went up to my room. The nurse came in and asked me to give a urine sample (which was no problem because I had to pee all the time) and gave me johnny to wear and told me to get comfortable on the bed. Then, she strapped on the contraction monitor and proceeded to try to find the baby's heartbeat with the fetal monitor.

She thought she could hear it, but it was not staying on the monitor well so she went to get a doppler to try and find it that way. She still thought she could hear it but couldn't catch the baby, so she called the doctor in. I should have known something was wrong, but the baby was always so active. . .

The doctor came in with the ultrasound and looked at the baby. He was pressing so hard on my stomach; I knew something was wrong. He was hurting me, but kept looking for about 15 minutes. Then, he looked at me and said, "I'm sorry. There's no heartbeat." I didn't know what to say and all Peter said was, "Isn't there something else you can do?"

They hooked the internal monitor up to the baby's head and got a rate of 117, low for a baby, but still alive. Come to find out, he'd put the monitor on wrong and it was picking up MY pulse rate.

The doctor told me that he was still going to induce labor. I told him no. There was no reason for me to push when my baby was already gone! I demanded a c-section. I never wanted to have a c-section; it was my worst fear going into the hospital--or so I thought.

They brought me down and at 8:55 pm on August 5, 2000 my beautiful baby was born. When I woke from the surgery, the doctor was there and asked if I had any questions. I asked how much the baby weighed. I still think it's funny that the first thing I asked wasn't: is it a boy or a girl?

Anyway, I had a perfect baby boy. He was 7 pounds 5 ounces and 21 inches long. He had all his fingers and all his toes and he was just beautiful! His cause of death was called an umbilical cord accident and, upon seeing him, the doctor determined that he'd died only 4 to 6 hours before he was taken from my womb.

I was ten days overdue and my baby lived as long as he could. He was so strong. . .I believe he wanted to live and that's the reason he lived as long as he did. I named him CONNOR DANIEL MORGAN TRASK. He was my son; he is my son. I will never forget him!