Waking up every morning will never be the same again. I feel like there’s an empty part of me that can never be filled by anyone. I may eat, drink, and go about my usual routine, but I don’t feel like myself anymore.
Losing my baby in my womb is still hard to accept. I’ve been looking for reasons what caused her demise. I’ve been looking for answers to why it happened to us. Every single day is a struggle. It’s like I’m fighting a battle against myself to overcome all the pain and emptiness. And I find it very difficult to win.
I have encountered so many trials in my life, but this is the hardest, most devastating, and so difficult to deal with. What makes it even more distressing is its effect on my eldest daughter Bella. She would cry herself to sleep, and it pains me to see how heartbroken she is for losing her sister.
Baby Ellie is Bella’s answered prayer because she always wanted a sister. She even gave her a name. She said it is her turn to name her sibling since her Dad and I named her brother. Ellie is Bella’s favorite name, while its male counterpart, “Ely,” is one my partner loves too. This makes Ellie very special.
I was looking forward to seeing her name Yzraelhei Yuki Keigh in class cards and certificates. I never thought it would end up in an epitaph. I was looking forward to her first smiles, first words, the first day of class, and every first. But that’s not going to happen.
Although I only have her for 35 weeks, we all love her. We are all excited to see her and to welcome her to the family. But the day I had spotting and contractions wasn’t the day we were looking forward to because she was gone.
How I wish I had given birth to her in March. How I wish I had left the hospital with her in my arms. How I wish I had come home with her so everyone could meet us smiling, and her siblings could jump for joy because she is finally home. How I wish she were here beside me so I could breastfeed her and watch her sleep. Everything is just a wish. I know that no matter what I do, she can never come back to life.
Ellie, the mere thought of not being able to hold you breaks me. My arms are longing to hold you and hug you. My ears are longing to hear your cries. My eyes are longing to see your beautiful face. My entire being is full of longing. I miss you every single day.
It’s been 9 days since my baby was taken away from me. I want to blame myself for her demise. I want to blame someone else for what happened. Sometimes I feel so angry that it happened, but oftentimes I end up lying in a pool of tears. My heart will cry forever, and it will remain incomplete. But I need to be strong because I still have two kids.
While I was having an emergency C-Section, I was excited when the doctor announced to turn off the air conditioning because it meant Ellie was coming out. But things changed when I heard my doctor exclaim, “Oh my! What happened here!” and everyone in the room reacted similarly. The anesthesiologist looked down on me and sadly shook his head, letting me know that my baby is gone. My doctor came to me. She squeezed my hand with a sad expression on her face. She said, “Kareen, she’s long gone. She is already decomposing. There’s nothing we can do. I’m so sorry.” After hearing that, I closed my eyes in pain. She then asked me if I would proceed with the ligation, and I said yes. Then they made me sleep.
The moment I learned about Ellie’s demise, I wanted to scream and cry out loud. But I thought of my kids. If my stress leads to bleeding, I would die because I would refuse a blood transfusion. So I closed my eyes instead, and I’m thankful that they injected something to make me sleep.
In the recovery room, I woke up with my cousin beside me. I looked for my partner, and I learned he has our baby. I don’t know what he was doing, but I know he was as heartbroken as I am. When he came, he looked stressed, and I could tell how hard everything was for him. It hurts seeing him that way, but I’m also grateful that he is there with us.
In the morning after the tragic night, my doctor informed me that she was surprised by my baby’s condition. Her cord was purple, her amniotic fluid was black, and she is already turning black. My doctor said she sent my placenta to the laboratory for biopsy. The picture of my baby in a black amniotic fluid and purple cord never left my mind. It’s a horrifying thought. I wonder why it happened to her. It was indeed a mistake that I missed my March checkup. I don’t know why there were always hindrances to my checkup. If only I had gone to my doctor, my baby would be here. But still, it’s uncertain. If she were born prematurely, would she make it? Or will she be given a few days to live? It would be more heartbreaking.
Sometimes I think that there is a purpose why everything happened this way. Maybe I was just given a chance to borrow Ellie, but she isn’t really meant for me. I know she deserved to live with us. But sometimes I think, “if we really deserve her, why isn’t she here?” Maybe she is too good for us. Maybe we don’t deserve her after all. I would do everything and anything to make myself worthy of her, in God’s perfect time.
In the morning after the baby’s passing, my partner was still working on her burial. He hasn’t gotten any sleep yet. After burying our baby, he needed to work on some papers. I was in the hospital with my cousin. When he came at night, he cried. He told me he placed Ellie on his lap while driving home, and he was crying the whole time. He said it was so hard to bury his daughter, and he was crying while doing it. He said he could see Ellie’s face every time he closed his eyes.
I knew he was in pain. But he is trying to be strong, and he concealed his tears because he needed to be strong for me. My heart rate since the operation is 174, and they were all worried. He would repeatedly tell me to stop crying and be calm because he didn’t want to lose me. He said if I’m gone like our baby, he doesn’t know what to do. Even when he is out of the hospital, he would call and tell me to stop crying because it would harm me. He reminded me that I still have him and our two kids. I knew he was right, but I just couldn’t stop crying. Losing a baby isn’t easy.
I knew going home would be harder. I knew I had to face my kids, especially Bella. I cried so hard while they rolled me out of the hospital in a wheelchair. It hurts that I’m going home without a baby in my arms. When the hospital attendant asked if we had to drop by the NICU to get our baby, my partner painfully answered, “No. There’s nothing to get from there.” I cried uncontrollably in the car. It was so painful that my kids won’t be able to welcome Ellie home. My partner kept on comforting me and assuring me that things would get better soon. But I can’t stop crying.
Arriving home empty-handed was so devastating. I continued crying in the living room while the kids came to greet us with hugs and kisses. It would have been a happy homecoming if Ellie were here. I cried that night until I fell asleep. Even Bella was crying too. She said we don’t deserve this, and it’s unfair that this happened to us. She told me, “What’s the use of having a baby if Ellie is not here?”
I would sob even more. I agree with everything she said. It’s really unfair. Moms who don’t want babies are given one, and they end up in the garbage. But for me, I wanted Ellie. Why was she taken away from me? I knew we deserved Ellie. I knew Ellie deserved to live. But why is she not around? What’s the point of getting pregnant when I’ll not be given the chance to be her mother? I have so many questions, but I know the answers will not bring her back.
I do not have a choice but to continue living without my baby. I have to accept her demise so I can continue being a mother to Bella and Quiel. Although I’m still in pain, I have to slowly creep out of this darkness. I can’t stay here forever. I’m trying to move to the bright side one step at a time.
I know we can still see Ellie in paradise. I’m looking forward to that day when I can hold her for the first time. I wish paradise were here tomorrow, so I’ll finally be complete, and my family can be whole again. I can’t wait to see my baby! As long as we remain faithful to Jehovah, this is not impossible.
I’ll be mourning my baby’s demise for as long as I live, but I have to be strong for my other kids. With Jehovah’s help, I know I can make it through all this pain. We can overcome this as a family.
Ellie’s demise is devastating. But there could be a reason why it happened. I may not understand it now, but one day I’ll be able to decipher the reason why she wasn’t given to us. We will understand why we have to go through this. It is hard. It will always be hard, but we don’t have any choice. She’s gone.
