As a Doula, I’ve had the opportunity to attend all kinds of births. But the call I NEVER want to receive, the call every parent and birth worker dreads, is the call about fetal demise.
Because sometimes, the universe is cruel.
Sometimes, babies die.
And there’s nothing you can do about it. You can cry, you can scream, you can question your reason for life. As a birth worker, when faced with this call, you have to be strong. You have to hold it together for this family who may have needed you before, but DESPERATELY needs you now. You have to walk them through the loss of their child. The child who will never take a first breath.
Last week, I had to do just this. Pictures included below, sensitive material.
Also included below is a link to the gofundme page we established to help cover memorial and burial costs. If you can’t donate, spreading the word is so helpful. Thank you.
Two weeks ago, on a lazy Monday, as I was relaxing at home with my family, a local midwife who I work closely with reached out to me. She had a mother who had been planning a home birth after years of infertility. She was finally pregnant with their miracle baby. However, just days shy of 37 weeks, she had discovered that her daughter was no longer living. She and her husband were headed to the hospital to begin an induction, and they were requesting the presence of a Doula. I went.
There was certainly emotion in the room, but I was amazed at the composure of the parents. They were brave, and they clung tightly to their faith in this intense time of grief. There was a lot of quiet resting and reflection as we waited for the induction medication to establish an active labor pattern.
The induction lasted for days. Monday and Tuesday were long, but relaxed. Many friends, family members, and pastors came by to offer condolences, prayers, and to lighten spirits. The distraction of visitors was welcome, and it helped break up some of the time. We also spent a lot of time walking, squatting, and using a birth ball. Wednesday morning things got much more intense once the Pitocin was introduced. Mama was so worn out and tired, she was considering tapping out for a c-section by Wednesday night. 2 doses of cervadil, 3 doses of Cytotec, and 15 hours of Pitocin over the course of several days had worn her down. Contractions had been intense all day, and she was shaking from pain and exhaustion. Through it all, she remained ever graceful and at peace with her situation. At one point she said to me, “There are times when I feel like I am about to fly into a million pieces, but then a wave of warm calm rushes over me, and I feel so lifted up. I know my God has a plan in all of this, and I now we will come through this.” Internal exam on Wednesday night revealed that she was only 2 cm dilated. Pitocin was turned off, and she hopped into the tub to rest. I sat there and talked with her and held her as she cried. We talked over her options, and at that point I expressed that her feelings were valid, and she needed to make choices based on her physical and emotional health, and that she shouldn’t feel guilty for whatever choices needed to be made She was at the end of her rope, reaching that place of desperation. After about an hour in the tub, she was calm, and we agreed to one night of rest and then a re-evaluation of her desires in the morning.
In the morning, after a very restless night, she was still feeling tired and that a c-section was preferable to more pitocin. Her OB urged her to wait just a few more hours, and her husband and I told her we were all-hands-on-deck for whatever she chose. They ruptured her water, and she opted for an epidural so pitocin could be started again without the intense pain. Within an hour she was sleeping peacefully, dilated to “a loose 3″. A little after noon, they began the pitocin again, and that’s when everything changed. At 2:15 pm it was discovered that she was fully dilated and ready to push, so they called in the team and broke down the bed. She pushed from 2:23 from 2:35, when her beautiful daughter was born. The baby that will never take a breath is a sight I pray none of you ever have to experience. As beautiful as she was, there was also a somber mask of death that flooded the room. It was a beautiful still birthday. Baby Astrid was 5 lbs 9 oz, and 19″ long. There was no visible cause of death, which shocked us all. She was like a little doll, perfect and pale.
Before I post her photos, I want to include the link to a gofundme page that we have set up to help offset funeral and memorial costs. This is a tragedy no one should have to endure, but they handled it with such incredible grace. I have never seen two stronger people, and it was absolutely an honor to be invited into that space and walk through this experience with them. There is also a memorial website currently up at www.astridsorensen.com.
Introducing Astrid Katherine Sorensen. Stillborn, but still born.
