Hi. My name is Megan. I’m a mother. The most fulfilling job a woman can have in life, at least as far as I’m concerned. I have to tell you, though, that being a mother is not an easy job–especially when your child dies before he truly enters the world. My son, Rylan Michael, was born on May 12, 2013, but he was “sleeping,” as people commonly refer to it. He was stillborn. It has been about 40 days since the doctor looked at us and sadly, but plainly, said “I’m sorry, your son has no heartbeat. I’m sorry.” I’m still trying to get my head wrapped around the reality of what happened to my husband and I that day… to what happened to the future we had already planned for ourselves, for our family.
This is what I remember. I attended my last doctor’s appointment on Tuesday, May 7th, early in the morning. I walked in and followed the same routine that pregnant moms are accustom to– I gave a urine sample, had my weight and blood pressure checked (all normal), and was escorted to the exam room. Every week the nurse would ask if I felt my son kicking. As with my entire pregnancy I said, “Not all of the time. My son has his moments but during the day he is pretty mellow, so it’s not out of character to not feel him for lengths of time. I know he’ll tell me when he’s hungry. And he likes to move at night when my husband and I curl up on the couch or in bed.” And that was it. Nobody really had any concerns about what I told them. The doctor asked the same question and I gave the same answer. My belly was the perfect size and we listened to his (very loud) heartbeat. I’m still kicking myself for not recording it on my iPhone that day. The doctor asked if I had any issues and I mentioned the same ailments I had for the past few months. Aches and pains in my “lower regions” (which they suspected was a “split pubic bone”–yes, it is as painful as it sounds) and swelling, especially in my hands and feet. Although, I do remember telling the doctor that my feet weren’t as bad that day–in fact, they looked better than they had in months. The doctor said that I wasn’t dilated at all and that if nothing happened before my next appointment (Monday, May 13th) that they would schedule an induction at my next appointment. I called my husband when I left to give him the rundown that everything was just fine. My husband attended all of my appointments with the exception of the last two which were in a further location and closer to my job. (In hindsight, I wish I would have made the appointments at the location closer to my home, just so he would have been there to hear Rylan’s heartbeats.) Anyway, the week moved forward like any other. I went to work during the day and into the evening (my job is pretty demanding of my time) and went home to be with my husband at night. Being so uncomfortable I made my husband spend most nights watching bad TV on the couch beside me while we ate dinner. On Thursday, in bed, I remember Rylan kicking up a storm and even made Chris feel it because it was so nuts. Friday at work I tried to get things in order before I left because my heart told me that I would have my baby on Sunday–on Mother’s Day. Saturday was rainy. I remember Rylan moving when we got up in the morning and I stopped Chris from his plans (as usual) to feel my belly. I had an appointment at the hair salon. I wanted to look good for my baby–plus, I knew after he was born I probably wouldn’t go for awhile. Afterward, I came home. I helped Chris arrange some of the flowers on our patio. We had dinner. I had some work to catch up on at night and wanted to “tie up lose ends” with work before I had my baby (since I thought it would be the next day). While I was on the computer I felt really crampy and wondered if this was “it.” I didn’t know what contractions would feel like. Some say it’s pain all over your belly, but mine were more like awful menstrual cramps. After an hour, I knew that it was the beginning of labor.
I called the emergency line for the doctors office and the woman on the phone said she’d have the on-call doctor ring me. I was unsure and nervous and to be honest, the on-call doctor was less than nice on the phone and told me that I didn’t sound that far along and I should wait before going to the hospital (which I’ve always heard is pretty common). Chris and I curled up on our spare room bed and listened to music on the computer. I remember us looking at each other and sharing the excitement that our baby would be here with us soon. After awhile the pains became more intense and I asked Chris to get his bag together and take our stuff to the car. While this was happening it became much more painful. We left for the hospital and called for the doctor again. When we got to the hospital I was having trouble standing and walking. When we finally got to a room my water broke. I was attached to the machines for monitoring and the nurses listened for the heartbeat. I remember not hearing it and watching them fumble around a little. I believe the doctor followed, and again, seemed worried. I believe I asked them what was wrong, even though in my head and heart, I knew. My husband and I held hands and heard the news together. If it weren’t for the terrible pain I was physically in, I don’t know how I would have reacted. I mostly felt stunned by what the doctor told us. I felt like it was a terrible nightmare that I would wake up from… in all of the office visits, in the child prep class we took just weeks before, when you talk to tons of people who have had children… not one person mentions the possibility of your baby not surviving–certainly not when they are 2 days shy of their due date. Not that it would have made it easy, per say, but I feel like someone knocked the wind out of me–I never saw that coming. After a lot of pain, an epidural, and a little time to rest, my body was ready. With the help and reassurance of my amazing husband, I gave birth to our baby boy.
It was Mother’s Day, as I had predicted. What a bitter sweet day. We finally met our son. He was beautiful. His face was so peaceful that he really did look like he was sleeping. We got to hold him and the hospital let us keep him as long as we wanted to… it gave us time. For that, I am so thankful. Holding him felt so good. I daydream about that feeling. I will always remember how soft his skin was… I’ve noticed that a lot of babies have these little bumps on their face or arms when they’re born… Rylan did not have even one imperfection. He had the shape of his daddy’s eyes and my lips. I wish we could have seen the color of his eyes. I often wonder about them. Chris was able to hold Ry that night while he slept. I just stayed awake all night watching them. A few friends and family were able to come and meet our baby–and hold him–which was so nice. In the short time we had him physically with us, we were able to make some memories. We took photos. We took video of ourselves holding him and talking to him. My husband read a story. It wasn’t completely easy, but I’m so glad we were able to do those things and have some record of our time together. To make memories that we will hold onto for the rest of our lives.
I will leave our goodbyes for another page, as well as the arrangements we made for the services. The goodbye was difficult but we were lucky to have so many of our friends and family involved, helping us to prepare and ensure that we could say goodbye the way we wanted–to honor our son and take care of him as best we could. To make it special.
I miss him so very much.