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Saturday, June 18, 2011

Isabella

About a month after Zachary was born I got pregnant.  As scared as I was, I was very excited.  My doctor had figured out why I kept having early miscarriages.  So with that taken care of I was elated when I made to 13 weeks and beyond.  

I was at work one day.  I was about 20 weeks.  I went to the bathroom and my pants were wet.  I knew it wasn't normal so I went to the doctor to make sure everything was ok with the baby.  I was dilated about 1 cm and leaking amniotic fluid.  I was immediately rushed to the hospital where I was on bed rest until the end of my pregnancy.  At this point, I did not realize how serious the situation was.  They scheduled me for a cerclage (sewing of the cervix) the next day.  I didn't learn this until 2 years later but when they went in to do the cerclage  I was dilated 3-4 cm and my water had fully broken.  At this point there was nothing the doctors could do.  Many of them wanted to go ahead and induce me.  I was told my baby girl was not going to make it.  There was no hope.  

Being the stubborn person I am I choose to stay pregnant in hopes that I could fight off infection until 25 weeks.  If I made it that far, she would have had a chance at living.  The entire time I laid in the hospital (with my feet above my head at all times) I felt her move.  Her heart beat never dropped.  It was strong the entire time.  I wasn't even allowed to get up to use the bathroom.  The doctors kept me on antibiotics to try and prevent an infection.  

At 22 weeks ,I felt it.  Cramping.  I knew what was about to happen.  I was going to have a baby.  A very healthy baby girl that was perfect in every way.  Just too tiny for this world.  Labor was horrid.  And it wasn't the pain.  It was knowing that I was going to have a baby and have her die in my arms.  

Isabella Marie was born on May 22, 2008 at 1 am.  She weighed 15oz and was 11in.  She looked just like her daddy.  She lived for a very short time.  I am blessed that I got to hold her and sing to her for her entire short life.  The songs I sang to her have never crossed my lips again.  She was buried a day or two later (this time runs together for me as just one big nightmare).  She is buried beside Lance's daddy.  

So now I can fully explain to you how Zachary saved my life.  Because he did.  While I was in the hospital trying to save my baby, he stayed with my parents.  The guilt was endless.  I couldn't take care of my son.  But I knew he was in good hands.  I was the only one that could take care of Isabella and that's what i tried to do.  I do not know what would have happened if I had come home to an empty house.  Zachary saved me.  He gave me focus and purpose.  Depression set in and stayed with me for 3 solid years.  Even though there were happy times in my life (My Ladybug story is next) I always felt sad and depressed.  All I ever wanted to do was eat and sleep.  And so I did.  Gained a ton of weight too.  But who can blame me?  

I miss Isabella every day.  Some days it is overwhelming.  But I think for the most part I do pretty good.  Her birthday is always a hard time for me.  When bad things happen you tend to relive it when the anniversary comes around.  

So...why did Isabella have to die?  I have asked myself this question more times than I can count.  My first answer is always to blame myself.  I think I will always blame myself.  I love it when people tell me "there is nothing I could have done" or "it's not your fault! you did everything possible".  While this is true and I know it to be true it does not change the fact that it was MY body that failed her.  She was perfectly healthy.  I just had her too soon.  The difference is that those thoughts do not consume me and make me hate myself like they once did.  Because I did HATE even looking in the mirror and seeing my reflection.  I still do HATE that person I was.  She killed my baby.  And I hate her.  But I do not feel I am that person anymore.  So much has happened to me since Isabella died.  I feel I am completely different.  I don't really know if that makes any sense at all but it is how I feel.  

I feel very strongly, however, that God had such a bigger plan for me that, at the time of her death, I was too grief stricken to see it.  

That bigger plan is sitting beside me now....eating her cookies with her lopsided pig tails.  She will never know what she means to me.  Her and I were meant to be together like peanut butter and jelly! 

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