Thank you, guys, for the kind words. Val sends her thanks as well.
As crappy as this is, it's not entirely unexpected. We lost Maeve because Val has an "incompetent" cervix, an unfortunate term that means that the cervix opens up earlier than the ~40 weeks gestation. Out comes baby. In Maeve's case we had no warning whatsoever; Val started bleeding and having pains, and thirty-six hours later, there was Maeve.
Fast-forward to this year, and after three first-trimester miscarriages, we started seeing a high-risk specialist. Although we expressed our concern about the cervix, the doctors at the other hospital hadn't actually done that great a job documenting what happened. So we didn't qualify for a "cerclage", where the doctor stitches the cervix together for a while. The first few ultrasounds suggested it was fine, then the one two weeks ago showed it to be thinning. For me in particular, this was an "Oh shit" moment.
By then, it was too late for a cerclage - too much risk of injuring baby - so Val was put on complete bed-rest. This past Wednesday night, she started feeling occasional sharp pains. By Thursday morning, they were becoming more frequent, and she was starting to bleed a bit. We went to the hospital and started the round of tests.
The ultrasound, when we got to it, showed us what I feared - Val's cervix was open and baby was head-down, not far from the birthing position. While this was clear to both of us, just looking at the screen, it would be another 90 minutes before we got a doctor to confirm it. Val was admitted and given a room; I ran home to do essential farm chores (feeding critters) while a friend stayed with her, then I came back to spend the night.
About 1:00 AM Friday, Val went into labor. It kept up, contractions every three minutes, all morning, with Val taking various drugs and me comforting/massaging her (I still haven't gotten to a lamaze class...). By 6:30, I was ready to keel over from fatigue, and called our friend for help. She was with Val when I woke up in a chair at 8.
At 9:35, Nathanial literally popped out. Unfortunately, at 22 weeks, he was a full two weeks younger than the hospital's threshold for intervention. His lungs, in particular, were too underdeveloped for technology to assist. So there was absolutely no question that we were going to lose him, and soon. Each of us held him - Val's memories are regrettably hazy on account of the drugs - and he was baptized. Around 11:00, he passed away, probably while he was in my arms.
We were discharged in the early evening and spent the weekend to ourselves, though we must have received thirty phone calls. We're now waiting to receive Nathanial's ashes later in the week; there will be no public service, we both happen to detest that form of grieving. Instead, we'll simply invite whomever to come out to the house in small groups and go through his memory box with us.
...which means I'll be pretty busy, as it sounds like most of my extended family will be descending on us in the next two weeks. Gulp...
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Monday, April 29th 2024, 1:37am
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