Elliot's Story

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In August of 1998 we learned that we were pregnant with our first baby. We were very excited as we had waited and planned for this little life. My due date was set for April 6, 1999. I had two sisters that were having their first babies as well so it was going to be great fun with all these new cousins. On my husband's side (he comes from a huge family and no, he is not Irish Catholic!) there were nine of us due in 1999, six within six weeks of each other. Again, lots of excitement for what was to become.

My pregnancy progressed very normally; no known complications, no high blood pressure, no protein in urine, nothing. The u/s at 20 weeks showed a very active, lively little person. He waved at us, mooned us, smiled for the camera. We were able to get a great photo of his hand, all five digits opened wide, which we used for our Christmas photo.

Shortly after Thanksgiving, I began to have a sense that something wasn't right. Deep down I didn't feel "good" about things. Deciding this was just fear I tried to put the feelings out-of-my-mind. Just to make sure though, about a week before Christmas I went in for a quick HB check. There it was! I was so relieved. However, the relief was very short lived. As Christmas approached I just "knew" that he had died. I again put these thoughts out of my mind.

On Sunday, January 3 as I was getting ready for church I commented to my husband "I feel like I have a waist again. That's not suppose to be. I'm just about to start my third trimester." The next day, January 4 we went in for a routine exam. I was 27 weeks along. It was also my appointment for GD testing so I drank down a bottle of orange sugar water. (Yuck!) I gave my blood and urine and then the n.p. came out and asked if I could give another urine sample. The first sample appeared that I had too many white blood cells and they wanted to make sure that I didn't have a uti. At that moment I knew that my baby really was dead.

I went through the motions, laughing when the scale revealed that I had lost a few pounds even during the holiday season. We had our appointment and discussed preterm labor conditions, warning signs, classes to take, etc. Then it was time to check for baby's HB. She couldn't pick it up. She tried to do a uterus measurement and again couldn't get a good measurement. At this point, she says let's get an u/s to make sure everything's o.k.

In the u/s room, the monitor turned away from us (so different from the other visit) the news was confirmed. "I'm sorry there is no heartbeat." We then discussed our options for removal. We elected to have me induced. Amazingly, I was very composed and don't even remember crying. Drugs were used to soften my cervix and we were sent home with instructions to report to the hospital the next morning.

At 10am on January 5, they began inducing me. They had prepared us for what was to be a very long day, not expecting me to progress very rapidly. (I actually progressed so quickly that they didn't have time to give me any drugs. I'm now thankful for that because I was then able to feel everything about that day and his birth. A memory I will always hold close.) However, I instantly went into contractions and at 12:25pm our son, Elliot James, was born.

We named him Elliot after the park where we met in January 1989. James was after both of our fathers. My parents flew in that morning and arrived shortly before he was delivered. Joel's family was also with us as they live close by. That evening in the chapel of the hospital we held a little service with our ministers. We finally said good bye to him later that night.

We took lots of pictures from that day, which I am very thankful for. My only regret is that I didn't rock him in a rocking chair. That's what Mom's do, rock their babies and I didn't.

We decided that we would have a funeral for him and chose April 10 because that was close to his due date of April 6. It was a small, private affair with just our immediate families in the chapel at the cemetery. Joel carried his casket to the grave. Afterwards, we released blue balloons up to Heaven with notes to him attached. I made the memorial cards for his service from handmade paper made out of blue denim jeans (blue, because he was a little boy).

We go to his gravesite now almost every Sunday because it is so close to our church. We just stop in and say "hi, Buddy" and make sure that no weeds are growing over his marker.

The autopsy revealed nothing as to why he died. He was a perfect, little boy with his Dad's chin and Nana's big toe. The official report states, "no known pathological explanation for death."

The pain does go away and one day you realize that you're actually smiling again, but the memory, no, that never leaves you. What should have been, what was suppose to be. Especially now that all these new babies have come into our families. They will be constant reminders for us as to what Elliot should be doing now; crawling, walking, riding a bike, learning to drive, getting married.

As for this new baby, we really couldn't be more excited! We see this as Elliot's gift to us. Because of his life and death, this baby came to be. It could not have happened without both events occuring.

Well, so much for the short, condensed, Reader's Digest version! Having a baby really is the most amazing event of your life! I wish you (all of you pregnant Moms-to-be) the best for a peaceful and happy pregnancy!

JoAnn

--
Mommy to Elliot James s/b 1/5/99 & Baby #2 1/1/00

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