After experiencing April 2, 2015, I feel like contacting Webster’s Dictionary and asking them to put that date under the definition of “bitter-sweet”.  Trying to explain the feeling of the happiest and most painful moment of our lives is going to be nearly impossible, but I’m going to try.

At 34 weeks pregnant, I had been feeling short of breath from the excessive amount of amniotic fluid I had been carrying that had been pushing up into my lungs.  I also had been continually feeling pain from my Deep Vein Thrombosis (DVT or “blood clots”).  I was scheduled for our induction at 36 weeks, but was worried about my health. We decided to call our doctor and went in to be induced on Wednesday, April 1^st.  With our “his and hers” maternity hospital bags that had been packed for weeks, the video camera rolling and excitement in our hearts, we checked ourselves into Mary Birch Hospital.  After a night of waiting for the medication to do its magic, we were ready to have a baby.

The next morning, our doctor broke my water. Since I was measuring 45 weeks at 34 weeks, it was like Niagara Falls.  After that, everything happened so fast.  Our sweet baby girl, Tabatha Darling was born on April 2, 2015 at 11:21am.  She was so tiny, like a baby doll, but she was our baby doll.  We dressed her.  We admired her.  We kissed her.  We snuggled her.  Then, we said goodbye.  I wish I could have gotten an epidural for my emotions because the pain was unbearable.  Just hours later, I was quickly wheeled over to Sharp Memorial Hospital next door to avoid being surrounded by noises of babies being born. As they wheeled me down the hall, I couldn’t help but sob uncontrollably the entire way.  Out of my swollen slits for eyes, I could see the look on people’s faces as we passed by.  They had no idea how I was feeling or what I was going through.  I just felt broken.  After arriving in our room, all the nurses soon exited.  Evan and I had not felt more alone, together.  Since we were both exhausted, we quickly went to sleep to avoid the excruciating pain that we were feeling.  I fell asleep in Evan’s arms, while we shared my twin-sized hospital bed.

The next morning, just 24 hours after delivering our baby, I was discharged.  The wheel chair ride out the front door was as painful as the ride I got the day before when they switched me over to the other hospital.  Leaving the hospital with an empty belly and empty newborn car seat is one of the worst feelings in the world.  Upon arriving home, Evan helped me shower.  I hadn’t showered since giving birth the day before for two reasons: one, I was too depressed, and two, I didn’t want to wash away any remnants from my little baby’s snuggles and kisses.

The following days, Saturday and Sunday (Easter), were filled with trips to the mortuary and cemetery to prepare for our baby’s funeral and burial.  We picked out a spot in the baby section of the cemetery.  The plot sits on a hillside near an adorable little growing tree overlooking the entire lush green cemetery.  We chose it as a reminder of our love, and our family.  Both of which will continue to grow forever.

A few days ago, my sister was thoughtful enough to set up a GoFundMe account for expenses that we are facing.  I cannot express enough the relief this fund has given us.  Even though we tried to prepare, we still would have had no way of covering the expenses to bury our daughter.  We feel extremely humbled and loved by the generosity of so many that have given thus far.  From the bottom of our hearts, thank you so very much.

Today is Monday and my bag still needs to be unpacked.  I just can’t bear to see the clothes, hats and blankets that my baby wore for a short time.  I know she wasn’t meant to be here for a long time, but I don’t think that makes it any easier.  Between the love Evan and I have for each other and the continuous comfort from our Heavenly Father, we will get through this.  I could continue to sit here and sob my way through each and every detail, but it would be too painful.  Though writing this was extremely difficult, we have been committed to sharing our journey and love for our Tabatha Darling from the beginning. Initially, I started this blog because I felt it would be good for me.  Being a private person, it was difficult at first for me to share our experience.  But I knew that in sharing our trial through a blog, I wouldn’t have to relive every detail by retelling our story, face to face, 500 times.  Ultimately, it has evolved into a forum for me to express my triumphs and heartaches, while hopefully helping some other families that may be going through similar trials that we have faced.