I found out I was pregnant with my first child and my fiancé’s 3rd, early in 2013. We were looking forward to having an “our” baby and expanding our family. I had struggled with infertility in my first marriage and truly didn’t think I could ever get pregnant. This little bundle was a dream come true for us both. We had talked about having children together and putting me on medication so I would ovulate regularly.
I had been wedding dress shopping and had one more store to go, to see if I could find “the one”. At that time I was giving blood regularly for other health reasons. My doctor’s office called me to let me know that I was pregnant and that I would need to come in for more blood tests. I was ecstatic, I was in shock. I couldn’t believe after years of trying I was pregnant. My Doctor wanted me to come in for an ultrasound to find out how far along I was. We figured out that right around the time of our wedding I would be about 20 weeks pregnant.
The pregnancy was right on track. I was sick as could be for so long. But I was told that just means, “baby is doing great.” At about 17 weeks I finally got a reprieve from the sickness. It came at the right time, because we were doing all the final preparations for our wedding. We decided to put the honeymoon on hold for a week so we could do the anatomy scan just days after we were to be married. We were living our best lives. So excited for the future. Talking about nursery options for a boy or girl. Picking out our favorite baby names.
On Thursday April 25th, two days before the wedding, we were out shopping and getting all the last minute items needed for the wedding. We were at the mall and I had this urge to go get one of those 3D ultrasounds done. They were so pricey though and I knew that in just a couple of days I would be getting the anatomy scan so we just left. We decided to go to my mom’s house for dinner. I was exhausted, but that was common. I was resting on her couch and got up to use the bathroom. As I was walking through her kitchen I just felt a pop and then fluid gushed all over. Panic immediately set in. I knew something was wrong, I hoped that it would all be ok. We called the on-call doctor who told us to go to Labor and Delivery. We rushed right over there. The entire car ride I was googling results of ruptured membranes. At the time I was just looking for the happy endings. I was looking for hope to calm my racing heart. They ran a test that came back inconclusive. So they decided to do an ultrasound.
It was in that ultrasound that we learned we were having a little boy. They did note that my bag had ruptured and my water was low, but there was still some fluid in there for him. We watched his heart beat on that monitor and I didn’t want to look away. My baby boy was alive, he had some water, there was the hope I was looking for. The doctor came in and dashed that hope immediately. He gave me all the grave details of what would happen to my sweet boy if we couldn’t keep fluid around him, “his lungs wouldn’t develop”, “his muscles and bones would atrophy”, “he would be born with severe problems and never likely able to walk”, “I was at risk of developing a severe infection that could kill me as well as him.” Everything he said was a knife to my heart. I had to give my baby boy a chance. I didn’t care about me, I just wanted him to live. I was in denial, this wasn’t happening, this wasn’t my reality. I mean I was getting married in 2 days. This couldn’t actually be happening to us right now.
As they checked me they realized that my cervix had shortened and I was dilated. They gave me some options. 1- I could stay in the hospital and they would monitor me and we would have a baby. 2- I could go home, be on bed rest. But I would need to come in at the first sign of blood for fear of infection. 3- They could induce labor and I could give birth to my baby boy. 4- I could have a D&C and be “done with it.” I was in a fog with all the options. I was still in denial that this was happening. I told Travis that we were going home and we would find a wheelchair and we were getting Married on Saturday. I wasn’t going to lose my baby, this wasn’t happening. I told the hospital I wanted to go home. I would do bed rest, I would drink all the water necessary, but this baby was staying put for 4 more weeks at least. The options they gave me were unacceptable. The fact that my baby was not going to survive, also unacceptable.
We left the hospital and came home. It was a long night. Travis and I discussed baby names. We were having a boy and he wasn’t going to survive. How do you name your baby under these circumstances? Nothing seemed good enough. That Friday, April 26th I told everyone that was helping that we were moving forward as planned. Again complete denial. When I saw blood after using the bathroom, denial. When the contractions started, denial. We had people helping us and they all told me I needed to go back to the hospital. I didn’t listen, because I knew that meant my little boy wouldn’t survive and that again wasn’t an acceptable option.
Travis finally put me in the car and told me we had to go back. I was bleeding and showing signs of an infection and the contractions were really close together at this point. I cried the entire way there. As we got to the hospital I was in so much pain and so weak I collapsed in the lobby area. They had to bring out a bed and get me on it. They got me back into a room where they checked me, I was at a 6. I still begged for them to save him. But at that point they said they didn’t have a choice he was coming and they needed to get him out to save me. I didn’t want to be saved knowing he wouldn’t live. How did my body fail him so significantly? How did I fail?
They figured with him being my first I would have time for an epidural. They brought the doctor in to give me one. He wasn’t having much luck and left the room to get some different items. As he was gone my little boy was born with just Travis and I in the room. I called for the nurse who came rushing in, as she was picking him up to put on my chest. I asked her if he was alive, she told me no. She placed my little boy on my chest, Travis cut the umbilical cord. Through his thin skin I could see his little heart still beating. I was like, but his heart is beating. She told me, “he will never take a breath on his own so he is not considered to be alive.” That did not sit well with me at all, it didn’t make any sense. In my mind my little boy had a beating heart and was alive. I just watched him and held him. I grabbed onto his little hand and didn’t let go.
I don’t know how long we stared at this perfect little boy. I don’t know how long his little heart beat before it no longer did. I just remember one second I saw it and the next I didn’t and then my heart completely shattered. I felt like my heart stopped beating the second his did. On April 26th at 5:49 pm Jayden Michael Lindstrom was born. He died shortly later. I typically will say he lived about 5 minutes. But the truth is time stood still. I didn’t get an official time of death. I wasn’t checking the clock, I don’t know how long his heart beat. It could have been 2 minutes, it could have been 20 minutes. I was just praying for a miracle that his heart would continue to beat and he would take that breath, he didn’t. He was absolutely perfect, 11 oz and 8 in. We were in awe of this perfect little boy that looked just like his daddy.
We left the hospital making funeral arrangements and arrangements to cancel a wedding. I didn’t have the mental fortitude to really do any of it. I left most everything up to Travis and my mom. I turned off my phone and laid on that same couch and wished to travel back in time. Food was still sitting on my counter, flowers were sitting on my table, a dress… that darn dress! I made decisions throughout the whole thing that I regret, decisions I didn’t know had choices with them. I was never given the opportunity to have Share Parents come to the hospital and provide support.
I can’t help but think if I had known I could have done things differently. I thought I had enough photos, but I didn’t. I was so scared he wouldn’t look like a baby, he did. Because I didn’t know what to expect I didn’t want anyone else there with us to see him. The older kids never got to meet their brother. So many family members never got to meet him. There were things I wanted to do, but didn’t know I could. In the days, months and years after my loss I felt so alone, so isolated. I didn’t know there was an entire community out there. For those reasons, when I found out about Share I vowed I would do all I could so others would know they had choices. More importantly, I do what I do so others know they are not alone.
