One year and 6 days ago I wrote a blog expressing the beginning of my journey “Pregnant with Clover”.  I would like to share with you how overjoyed I am; how in love I am; how although each day presents a new surprise and can be stressful I would not change, or trade my Clover for a child who does not have Wolf Hirschhorn.  I would love nothing more than to upload photos of her, showing you her progress.  But I cannot.

Though I experienced some success and some good news, I received more bad news than good.  I found myself singing that song from the musical “The Wiz” with Diana Ross and Michael Jackson, “don’t nobody bring me no bad news, no bad news!” Despite my prayers, the support, encouragement and moments of pleasantry- the bad news surmounted any attempt to “enjoy”  being pregnant.

On Friday, September 2, 2011 I visited U of M for my weekly ultrasound, with my biological mother (who was in town visiting).  The doctor told me that my baby was very sick, there was no more amniotic fluid and the outcome didn’t look good- she was dying.  I cried, and cried.  My biological mother began crying and stated “I don’t know what else to say, but I guess this is a good time to say a prayer.” I looked at her in anger, and tears streaming down my face I yelled at her “THAT’S ALL I’VE BEEN DOING!”  I left U of M hospital that day solemn, I did not speak, I dropped her off at her Aunts and went home.  I had my sister’s funeral to prepare for the next day.

The day of my sister’s funeral, Saturday, September 2, 2011, the pastor kept referencing my bringing new life into this world after the loss of my sister, and blessed we will be in our time of need.  I was already crying because my eldest sister passed away, but I found my tears becoming unstoppable because I knew my baby was dying.  I wanted to stand up and scream in the middle of the funeral to “STOP, STOP TALKING ABOUT MY PREGNANCY, SHE IS DYING!” Instead, I humbled myself and cried even more.  Clover gave her last kick the evening of September 3, 2011, before I went to sleep.

Around 2 am, September 2, 2011 my phone rang, it was Luke, Clover’s father.  I had not told him the results of my visit to the doctor’s Friday, but somehow he knew.  He asked me “Is everything okay?” I lied.  I told him yes and why he was asking.  I couldn’t bring myself to tell him the news shared with me, because I felt if I did it would only confirm that he and the doctors were right.  I didn’t want to accept it.  Luke, shared with me he was just awakened by a dream he had of his deceased mother.  In that dream, he said she said to him “It will be okay now, she is okay now.” He said she continued to repeat that statement, and he didn’t know what she meant until he woke up.  That is when he called me.  I broke down in tears, laying in my bed.  I told him she was gone.  He asked how I knew and I told him she is a part of me, that is how I know.  I told him I would go to the doctor to receive confirmation, but when I woke up that morning I didn’t.  I carried on as usual, preparing for my return to work on September 6, 2011.

The next morning, Monday, September 5, 2011 I told my parents I was ready to go to the hospital because I knew Clover died.  The ultrasound confirmed what I already knew, there was only one heartbeat, it was faint and it was mine.  The doctor whom I saw Friday came down and asked how I wanted to proceed, because they want me to be as comfortable as possible.  I told them I was ready and was admitted to begin inducing labor.  I called Luke, my mother called my boss and told her I would not be at work the first day of school to welcome my students.

I went into labor the next morning and delivered my stillborn at 1:15 pm, on Tuesday, September 6, 2011.  The only thing I remember is Luke grabbing my hand and holding it the entire time.  Then I remember them asking me if I wanted to see her, and I said yes.  I held her and I cried, and I rocked and I cried and I held her.  She was gone.  I held her lifeless body in my arms.  The first and last time I would see her, until we meet in heaven.

A few hours later the paper work started.  The doctors asked me how I wanted to proceed.  I was given the option of donating her body to science and receiving her ashes when finished, or taking care of the remains myself, or just having them cremate her and I receive her ashes, or they will be a part of the Universities general ceremony they have.  After speaking with Luke, we decided to donate her body to science with the hope that their reserach will give more answers about Wolf-Hirschhorn.  6 months later I received Clover’s ashes in the mail.  They now lay on my dresser with a clover necklace I purchased after her death, and two four leaf clovers I found in my front yard, 1 week after her death.  It has taken me till now, 30 days before her birth day, to express the sentiment I still feel.  Even now, words fail me; becuase I still don’t understand.

 

8 Responses to R.I.P Clover

  1. Ross says:

    I am so very sorry to hear about your loss. This is one of the most harrowingly honest accounts I have ever read, and I cannot begin to understand what you continue to go through on a daily basis or how hard it must be for you to write about Clover. I dearly hope that in time you can find some small comfort in the community here.

  2. This has brought tears to my eyes. I am deeply sorry that Clover left this world too soon. May you take comfort in knowing that she is safe with your husbands mother until you meet again. My thoughts and best wishes are with you. Thank you for being so brave and sharing your story.

  3. Letty says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. I read the date of your original post, but not the year. I am so sorry for that foot in mouth episode. I know she knows how much you love and miss her. I pray that you continue to have the strength you need to get through your tough times.

  4. LeeAnn M says:

    My heart is hurting for you, it is so hard to make any sense of such a profound loss but thank you for sharing your words with us and the story of your enormous unconditional love for your daughter. I pray you find comfort in the ones around you who love you this way and that you find some sort of peace very soon. I can’t imagine the courage and strength it took to deliver your stillborn child, I don’t understand why anyone must endure such heartache. Praying.

  5. Heather (Frankie's mom) says:

    I remember reading your heartbreaking story last year about the difficult process you went through after getting your daughter’s diagnosis, and how distressing it was for you to hear people talking of termination. I rejoiced in your decision to keep your daughter and so I am just overwhelmed that after the brave decision you made and all you went through, this happened. I don’t understand it either. My heart just breaks for you. I am so very sorry for your loss. You will be in my prayers as her birthday approaches.

  6. JillH says:

    I am so very sorry to learn about your loss of Clover and of your sister. I can’t imagine what you have been through so thank you for sharing your story with us, I cried as I read it.

  7. Carissa says:

    I’m truly saddened by your loss. I remember reading your original post and have often wondered about your precious Clover. Thank you for updating us. I realize it couldn’t have been easy for you. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.
    ~Carissa (Ava’s mom)

  8. Christne says:

    I am so sorry for your loss. I clicked onto your story because Clover is such a pretty name and reading it made me cry. Grief is the price we pay for loving. It has been an ordeal for you and your family and I hope that the prayers and good wishes of the people here help you in some way.

    I shall keep you all in my thoughts and prayers. Bless you.

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