Autopsy report

I requested all my hospital records for all three births. I also requested all the records for all three babies. Including the autopsy report for Benjamin. I just wanted some answers I had surrounding all three labour, deliveries, and hospital stays. I got them last week.

So now I have all the answers I will ever have regarding Benjamin's birth and death. I have the clinical reason for his death. I have details on his body. I have everything. And yet I have less. I now know his eyes were brown (he was born with them closed). I now know he died from "fetal thrombotic vasculopathy, the thrombus in the umbilical vein, and the pulmonary thromboembolic infarction of the right lower lobe of the lung". (yes, I have googled those).

BUT the report could not figure out how 'old' he was! Going by my original due date (the one I always believed to be true) he was born at 36 weeks, 6 days. Going by my adjusted due date from an ultrasound at 10 weeks he was born at 34 weeks, 6 days. Okay. So he was either almost 35 weeks or almost 37 weeks. I can live with that discrepancy. Then when he was born based on his weight and length they concluded that the original due date was correct and he was 36w6d.

Okay, a firm answer... Not so much. Based on findings from the autopsy report his weight was consistent with 38-39 weeks. His lengths (bone lengths, crown to heel and crown to rump lengths) he was consistent with 38-40 weeks. Based on his head circumference he was 40 weeks (but my kids have big noggins, so I'm not putting much weight in that one). But then his foot length indicated 36 weeks. Okay. So going by his body sizes he was anywhere from 36-40 weeks. Okay, those can't be all that accurate, so we'll stick with the 36w6d gestational age and just assume he was going to be a big baby.

BUT then the 'placental weight' indicated 33-34 weeks gestation. WTH?? How can the placental 'age' be 33-34 weeks, but the baby be 36-40 weeks? How can they not know how old he was? And not just by a few days, or even a few weeks, but by five to seven weeks?? That's almost two months!

The report actually states "In addition, there is a discrepancy between body measurements which correspond to a later gestation of 38-39 weeks gestation, and the placental weight, which corresponds to 33-34 weeks gestation." So they state this, but give no indication if this means anything. Does this have anything to do with his death? Can the fact that he was 'older' than the placenta mean that something was wrong and his body was working too hard? Could that have somehow caused the blood clots? If I had gone for more monitoring would they have seen this 'discrepancy' and been able to do something? If they'd seen that he was measuring 5-6 weeks bigger than they believed him to be would they have intervened somehow? Could he have been saved?

See, I have less. Now I am just confused. And, I'll be honest, a tad angry. Not at anyone in particular; no one could have known that he was going to die. No one could have known that he was growing so big. Just angry though. Angry that my baby had to have an autopsy. Angry that someone else knows his body better than me. Angry that he was taken apart and put back together again. Angry that there is that small smidgen of possibility that all of this could have been avoided. Just angry.

Daisy

I was at a discussion group the other day where about a dozen parents were sitting around waiting for a guest speaker to start. We had just done introductions and one lady introduced herself and told us that she was 36 weeks pregnant. I asked her if she knew whether she was having a boy or a girl. She answered that she did not and hadn't known with her first child either, but she had just known that the baby was a girl. I asked if she had any feelings about this baby. She replied that she did not, but that her daughter was absolutely convinced it was going to be a girl. She even had decided on a name. I asked what the name was. She replied "Daisy".

She must now think I'm a moron. I had been just chatting away with her all friendly and intersted in her life but as soon as she said this I immediately looked away and avoided eye contact with her for the next 15 minutes for fear of bursting into tears. A little hard to avoid eye contact since she was the guest speaker.

For Jen and Catrina

This is the infamous painting I was talking about.

There is this painting in Room 7 of the hospital. Room 7 is the room that all families who have had, or are having, stillbirth babies are put. This painting is many things. Confusing is the main one. There were many times during my hospital stay that I would talk with whoever was with me and we would try to figure out what the hell the painting meant. I never did figure it out.

So enjoy!In case you can't read the title, it is "Flower of Tulips". What the hell does 'flower of tulips even mean??? That was our main dilemma, I mean the picture itself is okay, in a flea market art kind of way. And really, what kind of picture is appropriate for a room where all your dreams have just shattered? But 'flower of tulips'? Really? Any ideas on this?

Happy Birthday sweet baby boy

Dear Benjamin,

We love you and miss you today, as always, Benjamin. The years may pass but the love we feel for you never lessens.

I try to imagine you as a two year old. You should be running around by now, talking, yelling, being a rambunctious two year old. I wonder what you would look like. When I am able to imagine an image of you it is always the same. You have dark curly hair. You have beautiful full lips. You are a tall solid kid, full of energy. Your voice is soft and sweet. I can almost imagine hearing you call me mommy. But it's hard. I have to really force myself to imagine you at two. When I think of you, all I can picture is a perfect little newborn. With dark curly hair, dark full lips, and a solid weight in my arms. Oh how I wish I could feel you in my arms again. To feel your little body filling my arms, to kiss your forehead, touch your hair.

I miss you in a way I wish I didn't know. I wish I didn't know the pain of having a hole in my heart. The pain I still feel when someone asks me how many children I have. The pain when someone comments on how perfect my family is, what with a boy and a girl. The sadness I feel when I see another two year old and realize they are almost the exact same age as you should be. The sadness I feel when I know Jackson and Lexi will never know you. They will know of you, but it's not the same. You will just be a person from the past to them, the brother they never really had. That hurts. So much. I so desperately want you to grow up with them. To learn things from Jackson, to teach things to Lexi. That is just unfair. Why did it have to be you, little man? Why did you have to die? Why you??

That's all for now. I refuse to let your birthday be one of sadness. Two years ago today you were born. I got to embrace you in my arms. Your daddy, gramma, papa and nana got to hold you. Two years ago you were a real baby, for the whole world to see, not just my own special baby for me to feel and know.

Your short life has changed the world, Benjamin. People all over Canada and the States are doing nice things today in your memory. People are smiling today because of you.

And I am smiling today because of you. I smile every day because of you. Yes, I cry still too, but mostly I smile. I smile because I cannot help smiling, the love just gets the best of me. Even though I truly do wish you were here today with us, I know that even in death you are always with us. So tonight when we are blowing out your candles and eating your birthday cake I would like to believe that you are smiling too.

I love you so much sweet boy. I always will.
Love,
Mommy

Benjamin's Second Birthday

This Thursday, November 11th, should be Benjamin's 2nd birthday. Last year I asked everyone to do a Random Act of Kindness in his memory and then to let me know what you had done. The response I got was incredible.

November 11th is a bittersweet day for our family. We finally got to hold our sweet baby in our arms, but it was also the day that any hope we had that the doctors were wrong was gone. To know that people all over the country (both Canada and the US) were doing nice things in his memory helped to make the day a happier one. We were able to focus more on the influence that Benjamin's short life had, and continues to have, on the world. This year is a little different as Jackson is now old enough to understand who Benjamin was and what he means to us. I have talked to Jackson about Benjamin and that sometimes babies die. It has been rough talking about it, but also very sweet to hear a 3 year olds take on the subject. This year we are baking cookies to hand out to people in the next few days explaining who Benjamin was and asking them to do a Random Act of Kindness too. Jackson will be helping me to ice the cookies and will help me hand them out. I want him to know that even though he never had the chance to meet his brother, he still has a brother, if only in the hearts of all those who love him.

So, I am again asking everyone to do something to make the world a little happier on Benjamin's birthday. It doesn't have to be big. It doesn't have to cost money. As long as you make someone else smile that is all I ask. I can't see my sweet two year old's face light up in smile, so just to know that other people are smiling on his birthday, becasue of him, then I'd like to think that his life made a happy impact on the world. And that has to be enough for me. Please post in the comments section to let me know what you have done. Last year I saved the list of acts that were done. I hope to do this for many many years and one day I will be able to share with Benjamin's siblings how their brother's life changed the world.

Last year some things that were done were (among many more):
- Washed a neighbours windows
- Baked cookies and muffins for a co-worker
- Brought neighours, co-workers, or kids timbits and coffee
- Donated baby items to the food bank
- Made family a priority

Thank you in advance. If you can't do anything then just knowing that he is being thought of that day is still very meaningful.

Infant Loss Remembrance Day

No time for a long post today (or any day for that matter lately!).

Today is Infant Loss Remembrance Day. A day to think about all the babies who were taken too soon. A day to remember them and realize how much they touched our lives in their short time with us. A day to think about those mothers and fathers who have missed out on so much with their little ones. A day for those of us that have lost our sweet babies to spend some time openly loving them and missing them. A day for those of you who know us to grieve with us and let us know that even though our little ones are not with us you still think about them.

As my life gets more hectic with a preschooler and toddler I find that I do not have as much free time to devote to this blog, the support boxes, or just thinking about Benjamin. But when I do sit down and think about him it still tears my heart apart. I think about what I don't get to do with him. I think about all the lost memories with him. I think about what he would be like now as his 2nd birthday approaches. I think about how I don't remember him as well as I used to. I think about how active he used to be in my belly, especially when I was sewing for him. I think about how perfect his feet were. I think about how much I love him, even without watching him breathing and living. I think about him as only a mother can.

I love you Benjamin. I miss you.

Terrified of death

I'm assuming it's normal that since I've lost a child I am terrified of losing another one. I know the pain firsthand. But how do you shake that constant nagging fear in the back of your head? How do you not read a story of a baby or child dying and immediately feel that all consuming fear of the exact same thing happening to your child? I realize it's irrational. I realize the chances of Lexi or Jackson dying is minimal. I know more kids live than die. But I've been there. I've been that rare statistic.

A few months ago I got an email about an almost-three year old boy in England that was abducted by two 10 year old boys and then tortured and murdered. The story sickened me and affected me so much that every time I think about it I cry. I just imagine that little boy being Jackson and him being so excited that these older boys want to play with him that he'd go with them. Then to have all of that horror happen to him? Just leaves me with such a heavy feeling around my heart. That poor boy and that poor family. Even though I know that cases like that are incredibly rare it still makes me so fearful that something like that could happen to Jackson. Not to the point of wanting to put him in a bubble or never leave the house, but just fearful enough that my heart skips a beat whenever I hear of children dying.

Then today a friend of mine posted that a friend of hers lost her one year old daughter. She choked on a piece of an apple she found while crawling on the kitchen floor. Something so random and her beautiful daughter is now gone. Just breaks my heart. And of course my mind soon went to the fact that soon Lexi will be crawling and getting all the random stuff on the floor (crumbs, cat food, small toys, coins, etc). I know that we will child proof the house and there won't be stuff that she can choke on just lying around, but with a 3 year old you never know what you will find at any time. I'm sure my friend's friend also child proofed their house. You just can't always be on top of everything. And look what can happen.

How do you deal with this? How do you block out all the fears? How do you read stories of babies and children dying and not immediately internalize it? I know one solution is just not to read the stories, but I cannot do that. A big part of me wants to read them because I feel that the more people that read them then the more people that this too-short life has touched. If I can be a little more cautious with Jackson, or be more mindful of stuff on the floor with Lexi then it makes the other losses a teeny tiny bit less tragic (okay, not really, but you know what I'm saying). But every story makes me bawl and then stirs up all those fears. Is this normal?