My baby was born on April 24th at about 8:30 am, after about 18 hours of labor. The labor was fairly easy since I had an epideral at the first onset of cramping. The epideral was horrible. It was the first physical pain and discomfort of the whole experience, and while I was lying there on my side, as the anesthesia guy was digging around with his needle in my back, I just kept thinking, "I shouldn't be here." It was the first realization that this was all real. Like someone pinching you to make sure you're not dreaming.
His cord was constricted as it went into his little tummy. I remember the doctor saying the odds of a cord constriction are 1 in 8000. He also had a double knot in his cord, and the cord was wrapped around his neck about 4 or 5 times. My little baby didn't have much of a chance. It was comforting in a way to know that even if we had been able to know what was going on there is absolutely nothing that could have been done. And then in a way it's not so comforting. I can't help but have feelings that maybe the baby decided he didn't want to be with me and did it on purpose. I know it's irrational to think that, but it's hard to not wonder.
There are some things I know for certain. My baby only needed to gain his body and then he needed to return to live with Heavenly Father. The Lord was kind enough to me to allow me to carry him long enough that I was able to feel him moving inside of me. Because I was able to feel his movements, there is no question in my mind that he had a living spirit and is forever linked to my family. If I had lost him early in the pregnancy, before I could feel him move, I would forever wonder if his spirit and body had been united before he died. I needed to be able to feel him move. Also, I know that because of all the complications that his death was not just an accident, or something that wasn't suppose to happen. I mean if only one thing had been wrong... I'm not expressing myself very well... It's just the way things happend is confirmation to me that this was the Lords will. It doesn't make me miss him any less, but it helps me to trust God and find comfort through him.
We named him Vincent Andrew McClelland. His little body was perfect and healthy in every way. We layed him to rest at Dry Creek Cemetary on Friday morning, April 25th. His grave is on a hill, and there is a beautiful view of the valley. I went back on Sunday afternoon to visit. There is not a marker on his grave yet, and I could see were the grass had been moved and replaced. It was a fresh reminder of how little time had passed, even though it feels like forever ago.
I don't feel or look pregnant anymore. I'm afraid in a few days I'm going to begin to wonder if the whole pregnancy was really just a dream and ever happened at all.