Colden's Story

I wrote this just a couple of weeks after we lost him. I'm going to post it here as I wrote it then even though some new information has been discovered and new ways of thinking have been introduced.

This is Colden's story as I felt it at the time:

I found out that I was pregnant on mother’s day. We had been trying for several months and very much wanted a baby, but I was immediately overwhelmed with fear in addition to the excitement. My husband was actually in China on a business trip so there was no one to share it with just yet. I got through a mostly sleepless night intending to wait to tell him until he got home but then blurted out the big news over the phone first thing in the morning. His immediate reaction: a playful disappointment that we didn’t get to keep trying longer. I don’t think it really hit him until he got back home. We were going to be parents.

My fear was no premonition of the horror to come. It was far more mundane than that: Would I be a good mom? How would we adjust to our new life? What would childbirth be like? How would we ever be able to afford daycare?

I just knew it was going to be a boy and at the 13 week ultrasound the technician asked if we wanted to know the gender, that she thought she could tell. I realized immediately that if she thought she could tell, it must be a boy. At 16 weeks it was confirmed, yes, he’s a boy and not even a tiny bit shy about it. Let the name dilemma begin.

I wasn’t one of those women who loved being pregnant. As it progressed I mostly thought of it as a transitional phase, a time to get ready mentally for this huge change to come, interspersed with some pretty annoying physical symptoms. I had quite a bit of discomfort and resented the restrictions and physical inactivity. I did get one really great piece of advice during that time that I’ve since become so grateful for. A woman at work told me to be sure to treasure having him with me because later (when he was in daycare and so forth) it would never be as simple or continuous as when I carried him inside me everywhere I went. Wow, does that advice take on a whole new context now.

Medically things moved along just fine. I had extra monitoring because of a short cervix and later due to a slight kidney issue with the baby. The doctors assured me that these were not major problems to be worried about and that I just needed extra ultrasounds to keep tabs on things. So I had an ultrasound every two weeks from sixteen weeks on.

At my last ultrasound, at 34 weeks, he was 5 lbs 10 ounces. I remember being scared because if he went to term he was going to be so big because he’d grown over half a pound a week since 30 weeks. At that pace he was going to be quite a big baby.

That weekend I started having an incredibly annoying and embarrassing problem. I couldn’t control my bladder. I had an appointment that Tuesday so I told the nurse practitioner that I saw at that appointment about it then. I said I thought that I had a UTI, but I was also really blunt about what was happening. She said it was very common in late pregnancy and gave me a script for antibiotics. She’d call on Thursday if the culture showed no infection. She never mentioned the possibility that it could be amniotic fluid leaking and didn’t test the fluid. I heard his heartbeat then for the last time. It was a strong 130.

That night we decorated the Christmas tree, drank hot chocolate, and listened to Christmas music streaming over the internet—the last happy day.

I got so little sleep that night because I was in the bathroom seemingly every half hour. My favorite moments of pregnancy had been at night. When we would snuggle before falling asleep, my husband, Brendan, could feel the kicks in his lower back and it would often keep him awake even after I feel asleep. We both loved that so much. I always thought it was so funny because I experienced all the minor annoyances of pregnancy and Brendan got away mostly free of those except for those little kicks.

He was actually the one who first noticed that Colden wasn't moving much that Wednesday morning. I poked my belly several times but felt nothing in response. Oh well, he must just be sleeping so I didn't really think much of it. I just had no idea that something like this could happen. I went off to work exhausted but blissfully unaware of what the day would bring. Then at eleven I just couldn’t keep my eyes open any more so I left work early and came home to nap.

Around 4pm I started realizing that I was having contractions. I didn’t really think they were “real.” They were 7-10 minutes apart, though, so I called the doctor and she told me to come in to the hospital. It was just 5 weeks early and my sister had both of her girls at 35 weeks so I wasn't really worried.
By the time Brendan made it home and we got to the hospital it was about 6:30. My contractions were really hard and fast by then, maybe every 3 minutes apart. They got me in a gown, and I had meconium all over my underwear. That was the first indication that anything was wrong. It meant that my water had broken some time earlier and I didn’t know it. The leaking fluid must have been masked by the UTI symptoms. Then they got out the ultrasound. First a technician tried to find his heartbeat, then a doctor, and another doctor. Three or four of them were huddled around the machine clearly upset, but still I didn’t believe it. I’d had ultrasounds every two weeks since 16 weeks. I was at the doctors just the day before and everything was fine. No one had ever said something like this could happen. I never worried about it. It just couldn’t be real.

The doctor told us that he was gone. I was just confused. What happens now? I asked. She said that I was already dilated about 6 cm and I would have to deliver him vaginally. I remember Brendan pacing the room wanting to throw things and coming back to hold me and cry. I was in so much physical pain that I focused on that and screamed for pain relief. They gave me some Demerol by IV and then an epidural. After that I fluctuated between a dream-like state of calm and denial and a sense of dreadful loss, confusion and sadness. Denial mostly won out.

I was fully dilated pretty quickly but then had to push for hours and hours. They had to turn down the epidural so I could push productively. Right at the end I freaked out and started yelling that I couldn’t do it, but the wonderful nurse hung in there with me and Brendan was the epitome of strength and comfort. Later we talked about how rock climbing together had taught him how to be there for me through the fear and pain.

I finally delivered at 4:18 in the morning on December 18, 2008. He was 6 lbs, 3 ounces. We held him for a while which was surprisingly comforting. My mom and sister had driven through the night to get to us after they heard the news. They came in and held him for a while and then I held him again. He looked so perfect and beautiful, such red lips and these tiny but long fingers.

So far we only have preliminary results about what happened but there is evidence of an infection. We’ll probably never know when my water broke and whether that was the cause or the effect of the infection. I, of course, replay that last doctor’s visit over and over again in my head and just wish I could turn back time and insist that they check my fluid levels, test the fluid, do anything to keep him safe.

We named him Colden. Colden is a mountain in the Adirondacks in upstate NY where we’ve spent a lot of time. We had such a hard time agreeing on a name and had only decided the week before. But now I am so glad about what we chose. It seems so right and we can go there to help remember and be with him. I’ll be there this mother’s day to spread his ashes.

Colden, my sweet baby boy, I’ll miss you and love you forever.