Annie looked up at the ceiling of the exam room, her heart beating wildly. She tried her best to calm it down, but it was no use. If only she could give some of her heartbeats to her baby, then everything would be okay. She said a brief prayer, asking God for the strength she was going to need soon.
The doctor straightened up while removing the stethoscope from his forehead which was dripping with nervous perspiration. His expression was grim. He looked as though he would rather be anywhere but where he was at that moment. He wiped the sweat from his brow with his forearm and placed the stethoscope on the counter top.
“Annie, Eric,” he said in a quiet but strong voice, “I can’t find a heartbeat. That doesn’t mean it isn’t there, but just that it’s too faint for me to find with my ears alone. I want you guys to go down to the hospital for an ultrasound. Just so that we know what’s going on.”
It was only a fifteen minute drive to the hospital, but it was the longest and yet the shortest drive of Annie’s life. As the skyline of downtown Minneapolis came into view, she knew that she’d think of this moment whenever she saw it, for the rest of her life. The sooner they got there, the sooner they’d know ‘what’s going on.’ In her heart she knew what the doctor was trying not to say, but she couldn’t let herself even think it, let alone utter the words to Eric. They rode in silence.
Silence and denial became the modus operandi for their lives. Any tendencies they had to ignore the obvious and live in oblivion became cemented in their repertoires during that ride to the hospital. They were changed forever.
Once at the hospital, they were ushered to the ultrasound room. There had been no reason to have an ultrasound before this, so it would be Annie’s first. The room was dark, with an exam table in the middle. It was covered with white paper like all exam tables were, but there was also a large hospital pillow there for her head. They were greeted by a familiar face. Dr. Lewis, the young resident, was waiting for them.
“Hi Annie, Eric,” she said gently, “I’m on call tonight so I’ll be helping Dr. Hayes – he’s on call too. Let’s have you get up on the table here.”
Annie carefully scooted up onto the exam table and lied down. The starched white pillow felt cool as she rested her head on it. Dr. Lewis wheeled a cart over next to her that had a large monitor on it, connected to a keyboard and some other equipment. The ultrasound technician squirted some gel on Annie’s belly and proceeded to slide a thing that looked like a microphone around in circles.
“I’m looking for your baby’s heartbeat right now,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. Their eyes were all transfixed on the screen. Annie and Eric had no idea what they were looking for, but the tech and the doctor seemed to know what they were doing.
There was no movement on the screen. There were no sounds. There was no life, no heartbeat. The baby had died. Their baby had died. There were no words after that. Life as they knew it was over.
The Ritadrine was stopped and the pains of labor began in earnest. They were even more painful because their result was not a vibrant, screaming, healthy infant, but a quiet, still, lifeless one. The pain had no purpose but to cause more pain.
Family and friends gathered at the hospital. It was the last place Annie wanted them to be. The best place they could be was anywhere but near her, but Eric needed them close by, so she did her best to deal with it. They ogled at her self-control and pain tolerance while trying to decide what to order from the restaurant on the corner. Even given the state of shock she was in, their behavior struck Annie as odd. She prayed for strength and grace. She also prayed for it to be over, while wanting it to last forever.
“Annie, it’s time to push.” The nurse had checked her seconds before and she was dilated to ten centimeters. Time to push. This was supposed to be a happy moment or at least a moment of relief. The only thing her mom had ever told her about childbirth, was that ‘it feels so good when they finally say you can push.’
She bore down, just like the nurse had instructed. Because this was happening prematurely, they hadn’t gotten to this stage in the childbirth classes yet. She had no idea what to do, but grasped her knees and pushed hard. Pain seared through her body. It felt as though a thousand bees were stinging her. This was almost worse than the contractions because it was so unexpected. Her mom had been mistaken; this didn’t feel good at all.
“You’re doing great, Annie,” said Dr. Hayes, “just one more push -” Normally he would’ve finished with, “and we’ll have a baby!” But he stopped short of that. Just one more push.
The baby came quickly. It was startling how easily he slipped out into the doctor’s large, outstretched hands. The room was silent and still, just as the birth had been.
“He’s beautiful,” the nurse said as she placed him in Annie’s arms. He was wrapped in a white blanket that had pink and blue stripes on it. His little face was so sweet and peaceful. He looked like he was sleeping.
“He looks perfect,” whispered Eric, as he gently pushed the blanket away from the baby’s chin. “He’s so cute.” His voice was quieter than usual, choked with emotion.
Annie looked down at her peaceful, perfect little boy. The nurse was right – he was beautiful. She tried to keep her emotions at bay, so she could take this moment to memorize everything about him. This would be her only chance and she instinctively knew that she had to make the most of it.
She traced his profile with the index finder of her left hand. He had an abundance of dark hair and his little brow was furrowed as though he was having a serious dream. He had a little rosebud mouth that was just like Eric’s. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she tried to memorize how he felt in her arms. Once they took him away, her arms would be so empty.
“How much does he weigh?” she asked.
The nurse brushed away a tear as she answered: “4 lbs. 10 oz. And he’s nineteen and a half inches long.”
A bag of sugar, thought Annie, he‘s almost as big as a bag of sugar. Out loud she said, with pride in her voice, “He’s not so little.”
“No,” Eric added, “he’s a big boy. He would’ve been a bruiser if he was full term!”
Annie nodded and cradled her son’s head in her hands and gently planted a kiss on his little forehead. She let her lips linger there, and inhaled deeply, as if to breathe in his very essence.
Just then the nurse who had been with them all night asked, “Annie, Eric, would you like me to baptize him?”
They looked at each other for a second and then both nodded their heads in agreement. Their Catholic upbringing kicked into full gear; baptism was important, although Annie knew that he was already in Heaven.
“What are you going to name him?” the nurse asked quietly.
“Dillon Paul,” Annie replied softly.
Eric quickly cleared his throat. “Are you sure we should use our boy name? Maybe we should save it for our next baby.” He said it carefully and quietly. They had a tough time finding and agreeing on the name. It seemed logical and reasonable to save it for another baby.
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “But Dillon is his name. We can’t use it for another baby.”
This wasn’t the time to challenge her. When they had another boy, they’d
