Friday, April 30, 2010


I had a good day yesterday, that was until the evening. It was like the sadness that I had stopped, it was a small eye of the storm, where I was able to breathe. Then... it hit me like a ton of bricks. The emptyness. It felt just like the times I had been homesick when I was a child. The homesick feeling times 100 that is.

That feeling is still with me this morning. I don't think it'll ever really go away. So maybe feeling empty is my new normal.

I still have a hard time saying what happened outloud. Which is going to make today hard. I'm going back to the school to talk with the principal. I just found out, through a friend at the schools, that the kids don't know what happened. The kids were only told that I was sick. I don't know why, but i thought they were told. On Tuesday I had told the kids that I was going to be out because I had a doctors appointment. It was the first time that I was going to be out, and I felt they needed to know. I even told them that i might bring pictures in. I only have 12 more work days with the kids. I could suck it up those 12 days.... but that'd be 12 days of living a lie. 12 days of waiting for one of the girls to ask how the baby is doing and wondering when i was going to break in front of them. Some people are asking why i'm going back at all. I need to go back. I cannot sit here at home feeling this emptyness. Keeping my mind and my body busy will help me keep my mind off of losing Aurora.

As much as I feel that keeping my mind off her is forgetting about her, and forgetting about her is one of the worst things I could do... i need to remind myself that I will never forget about her. How can I? 35 weeks, 8 whole months she was our daughter. She will always be our daughter. I can never forget about her. I just have to remind myself of that.

I think Jason and I will go visit her again today. We're still waiting for her name plate to arrive. Right now you'd never know that there is an urn in there, that someone was missed and loved in there. But we know. And that's all that matters.

Thursday, April 29, 2010

My new "normal"

Since writing has helped ease some of the pain and sadness,and now the huge emptyness that i feel. I thought that reading some blogs of other women who have lost their babies would help also. It has, for the most part. Most of these women were able to hold their babies while they were still alive. Some of them for a few days, while others a few minutes. I am jealous of all of them. What I wouldn't do to have held Aurora while she looked at me, moved her arms and legs, or even cried. But then, I should be grateful for what i did have. I held her. And that's more than a lot of women.

One of the women (Heart In The Clouds) mentioned how she stumbled across an essay on what the definition of normal is after you've experienced such a loss. She found it at Butterflies for Alexandra, but the author is unknown. It made her think of what her new normal is and then made me think of my new normal. Some of these are from the essay, and some of them are the womans, and some of them (very few of them) are my own.

Normal is having tears hovering behind every smile.

Normal is reliving her birth and death continuously. Although i guess her death came before her birth.

Normal is waking up every morning, wondering if this was all a nightmare.

Normal is wonderful dreams where I dream that I have a happy baby in my arms, and being crushed when I wake up to realize that I'm living the true nightmare.

Normal is knowing that something is missing from every holiday and family gathering.

Normal is looking at every baby and trying to imagine what she would look like.

Normal is no longer taking comfort in statistics. How can you, when you are that 1 in 200.

Normal is deciding how to honor my child’s memory and his birthday and how to survive these days.

Normal is catching a glimpse 0f your no-longer-pregnant self in the mirror and hating the sight of it and hating the fact that you hated that growing belly.

Normal is my heart skipping a beat when I see something special that my baby would have loved, but then remembering he is not here to enjoy it.

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.

Normal is making sure that others remember her.

Normal is realizing that after the funeral is over everyone else will go on with their lives, but I will continue to grieve my loss forever.

Normal is listening to people try to compare situations in their life to my loss, but unless they too have lost a child, nothing can compare.

Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it.

Normal is realizing I do cry every day.

Normal is wondering what you did to deserve this, because you have to blame something.

Normal is wanting to punch that pregnant, smoking woman in the throat.

Normal is wanting to scream at all the pregnant women who smoke, drink, do drugs, eat badly and treat their bodies badly.

Normal is second guessing every decision you made and wondering if doing something differently would have changed the outcome.

Normal is wearing a mask and telling people you're okay, when you feel like you are going to break apart at any moment.

Normal is wondering how to answer the question, "Do you have any kids"?

Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.

Normal is knowing you will never be excited about a pregnancy in the same way again, and that you will never be able to let your guard down until you have a healthy, living baby in your arms.

Normal is wondering whether you'll ever feel like yourself again.

And last of all, normal is hiding all these things that have become “normal” for me, so that everyone around me will think that I am normal.

For those who don't understand

I know that there will always be those people who do not understand. I was once one of them.

Why is she mourning a child she never really had? Why do they still cry? And years from now, they'll ask, why does she still celebrate and mourn her birthday? And they'll think, get over it already!!

I understand their thoughts and I understand their questions. Because like i said, I was once one of them. And the thing is, people will NEVER understand unless it happens to them. And because of that, I hope that nobody understands.

I may not ever get a birth certificiate for my darling Aurora Rose. But she lived. She lived inside me. She lived in our dreams. So many people had dreams for Aurora, and she lived inside each and every one of them. The camping trips we would take, the boat rides she would go on, my father teaching her to fish, swimming in my parents pool, Nick holding her and telling her all about Star Wars, Jason holding her hand as they cross the street, dancing with her at weddings, GG singing her "chickabookie" song, and all of the hugs and kisses and I love yous.

We have a daughter. That will never change. Because she is not here with us physcially, doesn't mean that she's not in our hearts. And I will never forget her. If you do not understand that, it's ok. I don't want you to understand.

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

Just another reminder

I thought I had passed it. My breasts had been hurting, they've been so hard and heavy. But I had not leaked. I have been wearing breast pads since Thursday when I got home from the hospital just in case. I thought I was lucky they were just hurting.

But today, I felt something during the day. I didn't think much of it, until I realized what it could be. When I checked, it was there. I had leaked. I so hoped I would never!!

Its just another reminder that my baby girl is not with me.

Its 11:33pm. I was pushing. I can still feel the pain I had during my dry birth. I can still remember pleading that I could not do it anymore. I could not do it because of the pain, but also because I knew what the end result would be. A little over 20 minutes. I decided to stay awake until 11:59pm tonight. I think it'll be a good thing. I'll tell her I love her, and tell her I miss her. I'll close my eyes and dream of her sweet face.

God I miss her.

One week

It was one week ago today that everything went down. I can't believe that it's been a week already. The whole day i know that i'm going to be looking at the clock, it's currently 10:03am. I was sitting in the waiting room looking at all the pregnant women around us waiting to be called in.

Just when I think that things are getting better, just when I think i'm maybe done crying for a little while, it all comes back and hits me. And it all comes back over the silliest, smallest things. I guess it's not silly, not small.... it's over the dreams. The dreams I had for Aurora. This morning it was over doing the laundry. It was about this time that I would have started to wash her clothes and sheets and blankets. And then I see her face again. As much as I don't want to lose that memory, it hurts to remember it right now.

I still can't believe it's been a week already. It's gone by so fast, but at the same time, so slow.

The hardest part right now is figuring out what i'm going to do this summer. I had the plans to raise Aurora. Spend the summer loving her and caring for her and not doing anything else. I had plans to take Nick to the summer fun program and for the first summer in 10 years not work there. I planned on taking Aurora up to my parents house to hang out in the sun. I planned on swimming in the pool and seeing if Aurora liked the water as much as we all do.

So the thought comes to mind. Should I work? Should I not work? Honestly, right now I don't want to do a damn thing! But.... it'll keep me busy. It'll also be money. How can I not work this summer? I need the money! It's a 6 week camp....8:30 - 3pm, Monday thru Friday. How could I pass that up? How could I not work? But still, I don't want to. I was looking forward to not working this summer, and not just because i'd be spending it with Aurora. Although that was huge.

God, i still can't believe she's gone. I still can't believe that all my hopes and dreams just got washed away. I would still love to wake up and have this all be one big nightmare. What do I have to do so that could be true? Because I would do it.... i would do anything to have my daughter in my arms again.

10:36am.... I was still in the waiting room and getting more anxious. My appointment was almost an hour ago, and i'm still waiting. I still didn't know. I still had my little girl a week ago.

Tuesday, April 27, 2010

The need to blame

Ever since Wednesday, I have heard "do not blame yourself" atleast once a day. And the thing is. I don't blame myself. I don't blame anyone, and that's the part that is hard.

I have the thoughts. That if only I had called with my worries of the movement decreasing instead of just mentioning something in the office. If only I had called after 1 day, 2 days even 3 days after not feeling movement. I have the thoughts of, could it have been the caffiene that I just started drinking? Did I eat something that I shouldn't have eaten? Did I sleep wrong? Was I on my back and did it cut off circulation like they say it could? Did I roll onto my stomach and lay there too long? Since we still don't know, and may never know what happened, I still wonder if it is something I did. I have all the thoughts of blaming myself. But i really don't have the feelings of blaming myself.

It's once again, difficult to explain and maybe difficult to understand. I have the thoughts, the questions, the wonders. But I don't have the feelings of blaming myself. I don't sit and stew in my thoughts.

I know, that no matter what happens, I can not go back. I know that I can never change what happened. And I think that maybe, that has helped me through.

It scares me that I cannot blame myself. I feel that I should blame myself, or blame someone. I even have the thought that I should blame my doctor. That maybe instead of saying "it's normal"with the decreased movement, that maybe if she checked things out she could have found something! It could have been fixed, or if it couldn't have been fixed... i could have delivered early. I think these things, but i don't feel that. I feel no anger to her, I cannot blame her. I cannot blame myself.

I sometimes feel that I should blame someone, because it's what i'm supposed to do. I'm supposed to be angry and blame myself, blame Jason, blame my doctor, even blame God. Isn't that what i'm supposed to do? Isn't that the correct emotion that i'm supposed to feel? And the fact that i'm not feeling like that, makes me feel guilty. I feel guilty that maybe i'm not grieving properly because i cannot blame anyone. And i feel that maybe i'm not honoring Aurora, loving Aurora enough because of the way i'm grieving.

I've cried, cried until I had no tears left. I think about her, and tell her that I love her all of the time. I still think about all of the dreams I had for her, and know that returning to the place where she was concieved will be difficult. I have grieved my daughter. But there are times, that i feel, i'm not grieving enough..... i'm not crying enough... i'm not blaming enough.

I still do not know why i'm not blaming anyone. Right now i'd like to think that Aurora is helping me through my grieving. That she is helping me stay strong for the family. Jason and I have become so much closer since Wednesday. It's the love we have for Aurora... and i hope the love she feels for us.

Auroras Funeral

As my aunt said, how can a funeral be beautiful? But Auroras was beautiful.

It was the 2nd hardest thing i had to do, picking my little girl from the funeral home and carrying her to the church. It felt good to hold her again, but not in that way.
The whole way to the funeral home, before getting her, I felt so empty. Even more than I had been feeling since Wednesday. I was not ready for that. I was not ready to pick up my daughter and say goodbye.

Jason was wonderful. He continued to ask if I wanted to wait until I was ready. The thing is, I could never be ready. How could you ever be ready for a thing like this? Although there were 5 of us in the car, the whole ride was silent. I was holding my girl again, and I so badly wanted to see her face, to hold her hand and to kiss her cheeks. But i held on tight to her urn, and closed my eyes and dreamed of doing all of those things.

At the church Jason and I went in to the chapel first. The flowers we had bought were there, and they were beautiful. The roses were the perfect shade of pink, and the lilies accented them so well. We placed Aurora next to our roses that we bought for her and told her how much we will always love her. I still was not ready for this. I could hear our family shuffling in behind us, but i never once took my eyes off of Aurora. I tried to be strong, but it wasn't working. It wasn't working as it had before.

The service was short. Just what we had wanted. Anything too long would have been too much for us. We walked outside to the columbarium and said goodbye. Jason placed her so gently inside and we kissed her goodbye.

Immediately afterwards, I can't really explain it well, but it was almost like a huge weight was lifted off my shoulders. I didn't feel so empty anymore. It's not that I'm not sad, or "over" all of this. It's just a sense of peace overtook my body. I didn't feel guilty to go back to my parents house and laugh and share. As Jason and my mother said, for 8 months I knew where she was. And after I delivered her, and held her, she was taken away. I wasn't sure where she was, or what was happening to her. But now. I know where she is, where she will be forever. I know my little girl is safe.

Our family was amazing. We got, and have been getting, so much love and support from all of them.

I already know that this first year is going to be difficult. All the firsts. It would have been her firsts with us, and now it's also the firsts without her. But with our family beside us, we'll stay strong.

Monday, April 26, 2010

Another Difficult Day

Saturday was a very controlled day. Yesterday wasn't as controlled as the day before, especially when we told Nick about his half sister. I can't tell if he really understands or not. It's difficult since he never really saw her, he just kind of knew of her.

The first thing Nick did when he saw me, was hand me a package of fruit snacks and said that it was for me and Aurora. He always does wonderful things like that. And that is when I broke down. "We have something to tell you about Aurora". Nick came clean with something that I already knew, that he never really felt her kick. Neither did my parents. Only Jason and I felt her.

Yesterday morning wasn't as controlled either. I didn't really want to leave the house. We had to get good clothes for Nick to wear since everything of his was too small. We wanted to find him a pink shirt and tie, but didn't know where we would find one his size. I felt guilty walking around the mall. Shopping doesn't seem like something we should have been doing. The mall was difficult though, all of the babies in their strollers and Nicks clothing section was always right next to the baby clothes section. I wanted to stop and browse. I wanted to buy her more clothes.

I went back to the doctor today to check my blood pressure since it was so high on Wednesday. Everything was fine and I can stop taking the medicine. It was difficult going back into that office. Luckily they took me right into a room to wait. My doctor, was once again wonderful. There are no words that can really express how wonderful she has been.

The rest of the day will be difficult. The fact that it's raining seems very symbolic. If you are reading this today, please think of us at 2pm. I know that we are going to need all of the strength possible today.

Sunday, April 25, 2010


I was talking with my mother about how everyone has been trying to make losing Aurora a positive and how I hated it. People have been saying that she is too precious for earth, that she is our guardian angel, that she is watching over us. I just hate it! Because I don't want her to be too precious for earth! I don't want her to be our guardian angel! I want her here. I want her in my arms. I need my little girl.

After talking with my sister-in-law, I realized i needed some positives though. Talking about everything, writing things down, and accepting some of the positives have helped us. Have helped me.

Other than the unfairness of it all, the biggest issue i've had is if she had to be taken away from us, why didn't it happen sooner? Why didn't i miscarriage early on? Why didn't i lose her before i knew she was Aurora? Why did it have to be so late in my pregnancy? Why did it have to be with only 5 weeks left?

She could have lived! If we had known this was going to happen, i could have delivered early. She could have spent however long she needed to in NICU. She could have lived. I could have my little girl today. I could have my Aurora.

But I guess. That since it did have to happen. Since I had to deliver her, i'm glad it happened this late. Because Aurora was beautiful. We're not sure how developed she was, my doctor said it looked like we had lost her for a little over a week. So she was maybe only 33w to 34w developed. But she was beautiful!

She didn't look like a preemie. She didn't have the features that preemie babies usually have. She looked like a baby, like a real baby ready to start her life. She was so long and seemed so big for only 4lbs 2.8oz. Her feet were huge. Jason said she had my feet. Aurora had his facial structure, and my nose. We made a very beautiful little girl. I am glad I was able to see her like that. Some of her skin was coming off, and her eyes were full of blood, but she was beautiful. She was ours. She will always be ours.

I just still want to hold her in my arms. I never wanted to let go of her. But i knew i had to. I hope that I never forget her face in my memories. I hope that the image never fades away. I am very scared about losing that.

Saturday, April 24, 2010

Too many questions

Jason and I are talking with the minister of the church where our dear Auroras funeral is going to be held. I should be getting ready for my baby shower. I should be excited and bouncy! I should be showering and putting my dress on. I should be beyond excited for the day, to see so many loved ones and to celebrate Auroras arrival!

Since Wednesday there have been so many questions that I did not want to answer. So many plans that needed to be made so quickly, but i had no idea how to make them!

We have to pick a time. How can we choose a time of day? NEVER! I never want to do this. I never want to plan a funeral for my little girl. Then there's the question on who can come. Who to "invite"? She was loved by so many people that I don't want to deny anyone the right to say their goodbyes. But i fear the more people there, the worse things will be for Jason and I. So what do we do? What is right for us? I don't even know.

We don't want calling hours. We just want a quick service, a poem and a few scriptures to be read, and then outside with immediate family to the columbarium to say goodbye.

My mother asked about flowers. I didn't even think about flowers!! Should we get flowers for the church? I don't even know. I don't know so many things. It's too hard to think of. It's too hard to even imagine thinking of it. But these are things that need to be thought of. These are things that need to be taken care of. Jason and I need to do it, but we just can't. It's too difficult.

Cleaning Her Room

Yesterday we cleaned up Auroras room. It was all ready for her. Her name was on the wall, the swing was out and ready, there were sheets on the mattress, her clothes in the closet, shoes and bibs in baskets, even some Johnson's and Johnson's ready to wash her up.

My parents, who have been wonderful, bought us some Rubbermaid bins. Pink bins with purple lids, and one big grey bin. We decided the big grey bin would be for all of Auroras stuff. The things we bought especially for Aurora. All of the pink bins would be for stuff for "baby".

Walking into her room was harder than I thought. We were supposed to bring her home to that room. We were supposed to lay her in that crib. We were supposed to change her and dress her and cuddle her and love her. We can still love her, but it's not the same. I need my little girl to hold in the room. I'm glad the rocking chair was out of the room already. If it was still there I probably would have sat in the chair and never got up.

Before all of this, there were often times I'd sit in the room and just dream. I had so many dreams for Aurora. So many experiences I wanted her to see. There are so many people that love her. I hope she feels that love. I hope she knows how much she is loved and always will be loved.

I'm glad Jason and I cleaned up her room. My parents also came over and helped, and they were great. I could tell they didn't want to overstep any boundaries with that process. People had offered to take care of the room for us. To have everything out and painted by the time we got out of the hospital. But that is something we need to do. It would have killed me walking into an empty room. It nearly killed me walking into her room, but it would have been worse.

Right now her room is all packed up. The painting will come later. I am still so tempted to walk into her room and just hold all that love in my heart for her. It's just so hard, we should have brought our little girl home to that room.

Friday, April 23, 2010

A Sign

This morning, as I was in and out of sleep in my bed, i finally turned to see the time. I had been laying awake for awhile, just hadn't opened my eyes yet. When i finally checked, it was 4:21am. I knew it was Aurora, so i told her that I loved her, waited for the time to change and then closed my eyes again.

The Worst 12 Hours

On Wednesday, April 21st Jason and I went to my regular 2 week doctor appointment. My doctor does ultrasounds every other visit, and this visit was an ultrasound for us. The ultrasound tech was running behind, I had a 9:45 appointment, and finally shortly after 11am we were called in.

For about 3 weeks prior, I noticed her movement started to decrease. So at my doctors appointment 2 weeks ago (April 7th) - after they found a strong heartbeat - I mentioned my concerns to my doctor. I am obese, had an anterior placenta, was retaining fluid and was nearing the end of my pregnancy where movement does decrease. My doctor had no major concerns.

On April 9th I had an ultrasound at the hospital to check for cleft lip. Aurora was so beautiful, she was moving around and even flipped us off. There were no concerns at that time. She had a good heartbeat and all of my fluids were fine.

My doctor thinks that sometime shortly after that she died. Jason and I look back, and on April 10th I saw my mother who was gone for a week... she said it looked like my stomach had dropped. We are now thinking it happened between that time.

Day after day of not feeling the movement I was a nervous wreck. Part of me said to call my doctor, and the other part of me didn't want to. I think i knew deep down inside that everything was not ok. I just have to remind myself that even if I had called after 1 day of not feeling any movement, there wasn't anything that they could have done. During that long week and a half, I remember talking to my belly and pleading with her to be ok. I didn't want this sinking fear in the back of my mind to be true.

When i went into my ultrasound the first thing i asked the tech was to see if I had a lot of fluid because i had not felt her move. I laid down on the table and she started. After about a minute she said "I have to talk to your doctor" and she left the room. Jason and I did not see her move. We held hands and waited, for what seemed like forever, for the tech to come back. When she finally came back she told us that she could not find a heartbeat and that my doctor was waiting for me in an exam room.

This time all seemed like a blur. We were in shock and had yet to cry. I could feel the tears forming, but I needed to be strong. I needed my doctor to say that the tech was wrong. I needed my doctor to say that they would check again. It really didn't hit me until my doctor said she was going to get me escorted over to the hospital right then and there to start the delivery process. I had to deliver my baby. I had to deliver my baby that had died.

Jason had called my parents, and they were both on their way. By the time I made it to L&D I could see my mother at the end of the hall standing next to her boss who had to drive her. That is when I lost it. We had to sit and wait in the hallway for a few minutes while they moved someone out of a delivery room. Although there are 8 L&D rooms, they wanted me to be in one at the very end of the hall.... so they had to move someone out of it. I feel bad for that woman, but i was glad that they moved me far out of the way.

I changed into my gown and sat on the bed and waited. Jason, my mother, my father and I were all sitting there crying and trying to figure everything out. What was going to happen next? What were we going to do about a funeral? How was she going to look? Would it be a good idea to hold her? Dress her? So many questions, and nobody really had an answer that i wanted to hear.

The nurse came in and gave me a double dose of Cytotek to start the contractions. I had been having them on and off all day, thinking that they were braxton hicks, but only realizing later that they were real.

The next few hours seemed to take forever. It was a fury of phone calls to let family members know and to have them pass on the word - since my baby shower was supposed to be that Saturday. I only talked to 2 people on the phone, my brother and my best friend. Jason had been the one to call my parents and he also called his. My wonderful family took care of the rest. During those first few hours we also started trying to figure out a funeral. If we wanted her cremated or not? Where to place her? What funeral home to go through? Where to have the service? Questions I never thought we would have had to answer. Thank god for Jason and my parents. Between the 4 of us we figured everything out.

Although I didn't want any at first, the visitors started. Visitors in L&D in my mind came for a happy reason. This reason was not happy and I did not want them there. But once i realized I needed my family close to me I allowed them. With every visitor who came in, the looks on their faces made everything feel so real. And at the end of the first few hours I had cried every tear I had. I honestly had nothing left in me and felt so empty inside.

My doctor had come in during that time, she was wonderful! She talked to my whole family. She went through everything in my file and told me that I had a wonderful pregnancy and that they had no idea why this happened.

The Cytotek worked quickly. My contractions started coming about every 4 minutes at first and were not that strong. Right before 6pm, when I was due for another double dose of Cytotek, the contractions started to become stronger. Most of them were in my back, but they varied from front contractions to back labor. I had to start breathing through them, which they only lasted about 30 seconds.

The nurse came in to check me and I was about 6cm. They decided to hold off on the second dose of Cytotek. They asked about an IV for pain, and at that time I said I was still ok. It wasn't shortly after that I needed them. The pain was very intense. It took about 30 minutes for them to bring me an IV and get it hooked up. I have very difficult veins and after 2 nurses tried, the anesthesiologist finally came up and poked me 3 times before getting it himself. The pain med was wonderful. I do not remember the name of it, but i do believe it started with an F. It didn't take away the pain, but made it much easier to manage. I could tell when it was wearing off because i had to start breathing through my contractions again.

At one point in the evening I knew I wanted an epidural. The anesthesiologist came, it was a different one at this point, and gave me the news. Because I am obese, he couldn't find the opening easily and would have to try blind. So he tried... and he tried... and he tried. He could not find the spot and I did not have my epidural. The anesthesiologist (who knew my father) told my father on the way out that if he had not known him, he would have never even tried.

I was disappointed, and scared as the pain started to increase. The next few hours was a blur. I don't remember times, or how long things took. But my doctor was there and it was time to push. I was given a shot of morphine and it was wonderful... but again, didn't fully take the pain away. I remember a lot, but at the same time, I don't remember much. My husband was on one side of me, and my mother was on the other. I do remember when 11pm hit, because they were changing nurses, but I cannot remember if i had pushed before the change or not. They did let me take a big 30 minute rest between two of the sets of pushing, so maybe they changed nurses during this time. I slept through the resting times, even if they were only a minute long, but I do remember during the big rest having my father by my side.

The pushing was horrible. My mother told me the next day that I had a dry birth since the fluid was very very low. At one point near the end i remember saying that I could not do it anymore. The pressure, the burning, the contractions were horrible. I'm not 100% sure, but I think they gave me another dose of pain medicine. I remember the next few push sessions after that it became easier than before... and i believe, only 2 push sessions later Aurora was out.

After the relief I looked at the clock, and it said 12:00am. So i asked what the official time of her birth was, which was 11:59pm.

She was 4lbs 2.8oz and 17 1/4 inches long.

I had so many emotions going through me at this time. I didn't know how to feel. I was relieved it was over, because it was so painful. But it also meant my little girl was taken away from me. She didn't cry, so i knew had really died. Part of me still wished for a miracle.

Per my wishes, they took her away and cleaned her up. I delivered my placenta about 20 minutes after she was born and since I had tore, i was stitched up.

I don't remember times after that point, but it felt like things took forever. They finally dressed my little girl, wrapped her in a beautiful blanket and brought her to me. I held her. She was the most beautiful thing i had ever seen. We all agreed that she had my nose, I also think she had my lips too. She would have been a beautiful young girl! I wanted to hold her forever and ever and never let her go. But i knew I had to. We all held her.

There is a wonderful service name Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep and photographers came to take pictures. We decided to get them done, because we didn't want to regret the decision after that we never did. We knew we would never have to look at the pictures if we didn't want to. They took pictures of her and then she was brought back to me.

With Jason and my parents present, Aurora was baptised by my father. A priest had come in earlier and told us that anyone can baptise a child. We are not very religious, but my father read a beautiful scripture out of the bible and we said our goodbyes.

With all the medicine i had in me, I was out shortly after everything happened.

My doctor was wonderful, and so were all of my nurses. With my family I know that we can get through this.