I miss my children so much. On August 3, 2018, we had our first child. On March 8, 2019, we lost our 9-month-gestational child.
Life is so dramatic, through this most difficult time, now I can finally face this calmly, even if it is the mention of the sensitive word "child", no longer tears, heartache.
Because I loved this little life so much, for 9 months, I didn't miss her for a moment, I didn't love her. The first three months are the most difficult, morning sickness tormented me is better to live than to die, weight is decreasing day by day, eating not vomiting much, recording the number of morning sickness a day as many as 10 times, the first thing to get up is to vomit, drink water and vomit, brush teeth and vomit, eat and vomit, at that time I was still thinking, if people have no appetite for anything in this life, what is the meaning of living! Now there are still videos of grievances and crying on the phone.
With her, I learned to persevere. Every week, I insist on writing a pregnancy diary, taking pregnancy photos, and recording the bits and pieces of my life, for fear of which wonderful moment will be left behind. If I get serious, I'm a little afraid of myself. I used to talking to myself every day, sharing with my baby everything I saw, from the yellowing of leaves, to falling, to being covered in snow, to re-shooting. The first firecrackers she heard in the New Year, the first flower she saw, reassured her not to be afraid, and the end of the New Year was her pig birthday. Every day, I have to teach the baby the prenatal education, whether it is the three-character scripture, one thousand and one nights, but also read the twenty-four solar terms, bought a black and white card for the baby, kept it for her during the confinement, exercised her attention, and children's English books, the picture books are colorful, the pictures are lifelike, I picked a lot of reading materials that I valued at a glance, imagined the way she couldn't put it down, imagined the scene where I taught the baby to read picture books, and my heart was beautiful. The shelves in the study are full of things I have prepared for my baby and myself, from small bottles, pacifiers, touch oil, buttock cream, nail clippers... As big as wet diapers, sterilizers, thermostats... There are also quilts and diapers that were booked in February and have not arrived until now. Newborn clothes, the old man said not to buy too much, the child grew up very quickly, said not to buy or not, still bought 7, 8 pieces, dry wipes are also bought in boxes. All of these things are the best that I have repeatedly compared online! Every time I introduce myself to someone, these are my pride, looking at the loot on the shelves in an orderly manner, waiting for the baby to arrive!
The day before, I was still crackling in front of the computer and typing the list, intending to list every expense, and then when the baby grows up, show it to her, and see how much thought and effort my mommy has put into her, and the result ...
That night I found that my stomach was not quite right, the baby seemed to have not moved for a long time, I ate chocolate, drank soda, and kept shaking my stomach with my hands, but she just didn't move! I began to be anxious, and in the evening I went back to Jinzhou with my husband overnight to pick up the fetal heart rate monitor, after all, I hadn't tested it at home for a long time, and I was uneasy along the way with the monitor. When I got home, my husband, as usual, applied a thick gel on my stomach, always found the position of the fetal heart rate very accurately, and at this time I also panicked, the fetal heart rate monitor has always shown that there is no heartbeat, no matter where it is placed. I cried wow, thinking that if the baby had a three-long and two-short, I didn't want to live. My husband quickly dressed me and took me to the hospital, and the moment I stood up, I felt that my head was drowsy, and the nosebleed came out as soon as I brushed it...
When I arrived at the hospital, the doctor brought in two fetal heart rate monitors, and I lay in a cramped cabin, hoping to regain hope from these two machines. As a result, I could no longer hear the baby's powerful heartbeat, and looking at the horizontal straight line on the screen, I choked. In order to confirm again, the doctor took me to do a color ultrasound, I looked at the doctor's face, they frowned, and then shook their heads, I even held a fluke mentality and asked them if the child was still saved? Is there any way to bring her back to life? As soon as the words fell, I knew that my words were ridiculous. My husband was waiting anxiously for me outside, and when he saw me come out, from my mental state, he had already guessed the answer.
We sat in the doctor's office waiting, I didn't dare to look at the color ultrasound list, obviously at 34 weeks, the child was still fine, still a fresh little life, how come after two weeks she was... From that moment on, I knew that when people are extremely sad, they can't cry. My husband hugged me and said it didn't matter, and he was there, the string that was tense in an instant was loosened, I cried, I beat myself desperately, I said that if I had realized earlier that there was a problem with the baby's fetal movement, it would not have come to this point, it was all my fault, I was not a competent mother, I was sorry for the child, I was sorry for the expectations of all my family and friends, and I was full of love for the child. All the efforts in the past 9 months have come to naught, and I really don't know how to face everyone. The doctor saw that my mental state was very bad, she asked her husband's advice to let me be hospitalized that night, but I want to go home, I think only home is warm, and I can feel the presence of a baby...
On the evening of March 8, I was admitted to the delivery suite that had been booked months earlier. Never thought it would be this way to stay, one bedroom, one living room, one bathroom, and a small cot. I walked to the mirror and stroked my belly, how could it be? So well-behaved children, so smart children, our interaction is so frequent, how can it be... That night, it was tormenting, I counted the clocks, ticking, ticking, 1, 2, 3... The sky is finally dawning, how nice it would be if time could be turned back.
Early in the morning, my parents came to comfort me, they were also uncomfortable, looking at my swollen eyes, I cried, they cried. I can't settle down, let alone anything else. The doctor said that the priority was to induce labor, and the longer the time dragged on, the more unfavorable it was for me, and suddenly the baby became a foreign body that needed me to drain it as soon as possible, and I really couldn't imagine saying goodbye to her in this way. The lab results showed that there was a test with a normal value of 0.5, and my test result showed 20, which was far beyond the normal range and there was a high probability that blood clots would form, which was also what they told me later. The only way is to transfer me to a larger and authoritative hospital for this labor induction operation, they may be scared, my husband came back and hugged me and cried, saying a stupid thing, saying that if I have a three-long and two-short, he will never marry again in this life, this is the first time I have seen him cry.
On March 9, I was transferred to another hospital, which I knew meant one step closer to our separation. I sat in the nurse's station where I was staying, signed the admission slip, and the nurse told me the room I was going to move into, and took a hospital gown for me to change into. There was a newborn baby in the room, so small, so cute, so soundly slept, and if my baby was still there, he would be as cute as he was. At that time, I realized how much I longed to be a mother, and felt that the word mother was far away from me...
Next, the doctor began to understand my situation while giving me psychological counseling, she said that there are many ways to induce labor, and I will choose one that is the least harmful to me: upper water bladder + oxytocin, and it will be produced smoothly, just like giving birth normally, or even more painful, because there is no child to help me hard, only the stimulation of drugs will promote the whole process. At that time, I didn't have any ideas, and I didn't know how to be afraid, so I thought that cooperating with the doctor would be good for me and for the child.
At 10 p.m., the doctor put a water bladder on me, I don't know how the catheter is used, maybe the principle is similar, a tube sticks directly out to the base of the thigh, and it is injected with a liquid drug that softens the cervix, and the doctor said that this medicine is very useful. Walking, sitting, rolling over, going to the toilet, it is not convenient, first every hour contractions, then every half hour, every 10 minutes, every 5 minutes, this pain, I can still bear, just count each contraction until dawn, and the whole night without sleep.
On March 10, my husband accompanied me to pick up the water bladder, he is now outside the examination room, I was in the examination room, I didn't expect that removing the water bladder was so painful, I couldn't help but cry out tearfully, there was a lot of blood on the bed, I got up and reluctantly put on clothes, my husband listened to it outside with great heartache, came in and hugged me, saying that we will not give birth in the future, will not give birth. He used to always say that he had two or three children, but this time he realized that it was not easy to have children.
I thought that the water bladder was painful, that is, I had not taken oxytocin. The doctor asked me to eat first, and after eating, I had strength before I could fight oxytocin. From the moment oxytocin was put on, we began a long counting process. Every 3 minutes, contractions 30 seconds, every 2 minutes, contractions 30 seconds, every minute, contractions 30 seconds, the length of the interval depends entirely on the doctor, keep switching the speed of the drips, and then touch my stomach, check the intensity of the contractions, the mouth keeps saying, the pain is not enough, it's not time yet... The contractions are getting more and more painful, and every time the contractions are contracted, I will inhale and exhale hard to relieve the pain, silently reciting the number of contractions in my heart, counting down to zero, that is, when I can catch my breath, and then at intervals of 1 minute, I enter the countdown again. So repeatedly, the railing next to the bed is going to be pulled off by me, only my husband's hand will give me strength, his mobile phone has been in the stopwatch timing interface, every time my contractions, he exhales and inhales with me, helps me work hard, tired he is sweating. At noon, I ate intermittently within one minute of each contraction. After tossing and turning for seven or eight hours, the doctor finally took me to the internal examination, at that time I had no strength, I didn't even have the strength to speak, others called me, I didn't want to make any response, I really don't know how to enter the delivery room for a while.
My husband pushed a wheelchair and sent me to the internal examination room. Because the intensity of the contractions has been somewhat beyond my tolerance, I can only rush to the interval between contractions, in the wheelchair, under the wheelchair, along the way, the distorted expression, the skewed body, the messy hair, must be extremely ugly. When I arrived at the internal examination room, my husband was allowed to accompany me in, and after the examination, the doctor said that the uterine opening was not enough, and he wanted to help me enter the delivery room early. At that time, no matter what the doctor said, I shouted good, good, good... Sure enough, the tearing pain left another stream of blood, and I was finally able to enter the delivery room, as if I were on the battlefield.
When the contractions stopped, I quickly stood up and staggered into the delivery room, and the doctor helped me hold the infusion bag, "Arrange it in bed 10," she gestured to the other doctors. It was a bed near the innermost part, and unlike its mothers, those were normal deliveries, and they all had a fetal heart rate monitor strapped to their side, and they could clearly hear the baby's thumping heartbeat in their stomachs. At that time, I was thinking, my baby used to be so healthy, every time the fetal supervisor was so cooperative, when she contained a piece of sugar, she also tasted the sweetness, jumping alive in my stomach, but now she doesn't move anymore, sleeps forever, waiting for separation from my mother's body, pitiful...
After the doctor settled me in, he adjusted my oxytocin, and after a while I felt the strength of this thing, and the pain made me shoot straight against the wall, even if it hurt again, I was holding it hard the whole time, not shouting or shouting. At this time, a doctor came to me pushing a cart full of medical equipment rings, which is the legendary painless delivery, she asked me to lie on my side, back to her, try to hold my stomach curled up into a ball, and arch my back hard. The stomach is so big, the contractions hurt so much, I did what she said like a big stupid bear, she disinfected my back, only felt really from my spine a little, plopped into it, compared with contractions, this pain is nothing, a coolness from that point through the entire back, the doctor fixed the tape for me, I can lie on the front, the infusion tube is pressed under the back, and the effect of the drug begins to work little by little. After 3-5 contractions, I started to feel blurry and crispy in front of my eyes, thinking that I could finally rest for a while.
I could see other women in my position, and I felt that they were not in as much pain as I was, probably oxytocin was acting to blame. Everyone seems to be very experienced, food and drink are all brought, soon there will be a mother shouting, saying that she has a desire to defecate, should be about to give birth, the doctor came to see, well, almost, and pushed the woman into the operating room inside for delivery. In this way, one after another, the mothers all went in, and several new mothers came in to give birth.
Time ticked and I started to feel pain, what's going on? Obviously hit painless, this pain is different from contractions, the top below is uncomfortable, uncomfortable to be mad, I called the doctor, let them help me see, is it that I can also go in to give birth, but the doctor came to take a look, said no, the head position has not been seen, and then left. Well, I endured it a little longer, the pain continued to worsen, I looked at the doctor in my line of sight with longing eyes, no one paid attention to me, another wave of maternity left, or no doctor came to help me, I was like an abandoned baby, I wanted to rush out to find my husband, to find my parents. I really can't stand this feeling of being topped, I began to roll on the bed, hammer the wall, stomp my foot, call the doctor, at this time finally a doctor came, injected me with some painless anesthesia, but this pain, really anesthesia can not be relieved, how come no one understands me?! Feeling that I was dying of pain, my father said that if I encountered difficulties, I would silently think of him in my heart, and he would bless me, and I shouted in my heart that Dad, husband, dad, husband. I could feel the state of other women seeing me suffer, and I couldn't understand how I was in so much pain. After about half an hour, the doctor saw that I was crazy and asked for help, and she finally helped me. She took a syringe and pierced the water bladder-like thing blocked underneath, and saw that the liquid stored in my body squirted out with a bang like a water balloon, and the whole bed, the entire ground was... I was finally relieved that the doctors were stunned by the explosiveness. At this time, listening to them, came out, immediately pushed me to the delivery room, the moment I stood up in a daze, I felt that something was going to fall down, the doctor was like a wet diaper, gave me a pocket below, I was afraid that something would fall out. I thought to myself, if I had pierced it earlier, I wouldn't have suffered so much...
Lying on the delivery bed, looking at the ceiling, I dare not imagine that I am pregnant in September, this time I really want to be separated from this child, I still have a lot of things to say to her, "Child, mother loves you, it is you who made me learn to persevere, let me experience the feeling of being a mother, even if we have never met, but you can choose me, is our greatest fate in this life, in the next life, you will still be my daughter, okay?" I cooperated with the doctor, when she asked me to use force, I used force, at this time my husband was standing 2 meters away from me, my face was red, silent, squeezed outward, I could feel the child leaving my body little by little, boom, the child all came out, heard the crisp sound of the doctor cutting off the umbilical cord, but could not hear my daughter's crying, I hoped to be like other delivery rooms, the child's crisp and loud crying sound. My daughter, 2500g, umbilical cord around the neck for a week, goodbye, my darling, this time is goodbye. My husband didn't let me see it, and only later told me that this child's hair was like mine, thick, I cried, cried fiercely, I wanted to see her, kiss her, hug her... I have a daughter whose nickname is Tongtong.
A woman's greatest career is to be a mother, and although the process is painful, it will be happy for a lifetime.