Saturday:  Alex and I took our last 'date night', tho we really didn't have the money to be doing so.  We went to Chilli's for dinner (kinda spicey), then to walk around the new Walmart.  We bought some more things for baby while there...socks and such they had on sale...more wasted money...

Sunday:  Got up, cleaned the kitchen, did laundry, went to the store to use my last WIC check (really is my last one now).  Got home, made lunch...realized I hadn't felt the baby move.  Figured I might have just not noticed, so I finished lunch, laid down on my side-still no movement.  Turned over on my other side after drinking a glass of cold OJ...as soon as I turned over, I felt the baby...'float' down.  No other way to describe it.  Alex told me to take a warm bath (baby always kickin while I'm in the bathtub)-still no movement.  He goes to work, I wait til around 4pm and go to the ER.  Call mom to go w/ me at the last minute, "Just in case"-I told myself...didn't want Kaitlynne there in case they had me deliver early for some reason.  I packed the car, too.  Installed the carseat, got the stroller, my bag, baby's bag...  Get to the hospital, right up to labor & delivery-hook me up to an NST...can't find the heartbeat...I feel myself slipping into a zone, of sorts.  The bring in the portable ultrasound-can find no movement of any kind-I crack.  Take me down for the 'final and conclusive' ultrasound-Dr. Marquette comes in to tell me my baby is dead.  I am 4 goddamn days away from delivering her...and she is dead.  I am no longer here, this isn't happening, this happens on tv, to other people, not me.  I waited years for another child, found a man who loves me, wants a family-the start of our family is in my body, dead.  Morbid, isn't it.  I tell him I will not deliver a dead baby.  He sends me back to my room, where Kim, Donald, my mom, and Kaitlynne sit.  He comes back, tells everyone to get out, he and his nurse begin to tell me about inducing labor.  I again tell him I will not deliver a dead baby.  His nurse is kind enough to point out that even after a cesarian, the baby will be dead-guess I gave the impression that I thought a csection would bring her back to life.  I will not deliver a dead baby.  He says he can't make me do anything I donot want to do, says he will do the csection, tho it's nothing he's ever done before (atleast for that reason).  Everyone comes in, I play the clown.  Everythings fine.  I'm just in the hospital, everythings fine.  Kim and Donald leave, Alex gets there-mom and Kaitlynne go downstairs.  I totally breakdown with Alex.  I just keep hearing "It's not your fault", "There's nothing you could have done", "It's Gods will", "Things happen for a reason", "God gives us nothing more then we can handle".  To all of this, I say FUCKING BULLSHIT.  How could I have done everything right and had this happen?  How could I NOT have known she was in there strangling herself?  Gods will?  He hates me that bad...I can't handle this.  Not to say life won't continue-I have a daughter..but I can't handle this.  I can tell you a joke right now, if you want...act like it's all a-o-fucking-kay.  I can't handle this.

Next morning I'm supposed to go for body removal surgery at 830am.  By 1030, I'm wondering wtf is going on, I haven't gone in yet.  I'm told an emergency section came in..ok.  Epi doc comes in, says he doesn't recommend a section..I tell him I don't care what he or anyone recommends-I will not deliver a dead baby.  He reads my chart, see's I had a 42hr labor before-then says I made the right decision-no one should have to labor that long for a dead child.  Okey dokey, gotten epi doc's approval-who gives a shit.  At 1130am, I'm told 5 more minutes.  Dr. Marquette calls:  Arnold Palmer will NOT release my care to him, I am NOT to have a csection, I AM to be sent home.  "Call Arnold Palmer in a couple of days, make an appointment in a day or two (you know, to get the dead child out of me)...his hands are tied".  I freak-Alex tells him that I have a nurse liason at the insurance.  Doc calls her, I call her.  She calls says it's not her decision-Arnold Palmer needs to talk to Dr. Marquette.  I tell her to fight for me when she calls-don't let this happen to me on top of everything else.

Around noon, Dr. Marquette calls:  we are good to go.  I am taken to the OR immediately and prepped.  They give me a spinal and sedate me so I'll calm down.  Wish they had kept me that way.  Alex comes in as they begin.  They told him myBP went right down to normal when he came in-I believe it.  He and I have been thru hell and back-I can't be without him now or ever.

12:23pm-Our daughter, Marissa Cheyenne Barbara, is born.  She is 7lbs 6oz, 19 1/2 inches long, lots of dirty-blonde hair with red highlights.  Her cord is wrapped around her neck twice and has hemorrhaged.  The small glimmer of hope I carried that the test were wrong was gone-she was most definately dead.  They take her to the nursery to clean her up and take pictures.  I go to recovery.  An hour later, the bereavement nurse brings me my daughter.  She is in the regular baby crib-cart, bundled like a regular baby, but she is covered with another blanket-don't want to scare the other new moms.  She puts her in my arms, and I lose it.  She is beautiful.  My eyes, Alex's mouth....beautiful.  Cute little hands and feet-she's dressed in a beautiful white dress.  Mom comes in with Kaitlynne-mom holds her while Kaitlynne touches her sister's head, hair, hands... They baptise her.  I can't handle this..any of this.  They take the baby away so that Alex can come in with me.  He doesn't want to see her-I tell them not to force him.  We talk for awhile, cry...

 430pm-I am taken to the mother/baby ward...guess they don't have the mother minus baby ward.   They neglect to tell me that they have given me pitocin in the IV to give me contractions to help shrink the uterus.  Not saying it doesn't make sense, but there are alot of things I'm not told-just expected to know, I guess.  I spend most of the night in blinding pain.  They have me on a demerol pump-does nothing.  After 4 hours, nurse finally calls the doc to get me something else.  I get a drug that helps take the horrid edge off, I can finally sleep some.  Alex and I get up around 9am, the nurse wants to remove the cath and get me up-I ask to finish breakfast.  She comes back around 1pm, and says she can wait til later-I ask her to remove it and get me up...I want to get well and get home.  The pain is like nothing I can describe.  But, I get up..I go to the bathroom.  And by that night I am walking to the nurses station. 

Wednesday-Lorraine from Forrest Lawn comes around 9am.  This is the same place that has the remains of Larry's parents, his son-Kevin, and his ex-wife.  They know my name well.  They are doing all arrangements/services free.  I hate to say this is wonderful, because afterall..the wonderful service they are providing is burning the remains of my baby to dust, but the thought they provide of caring for families who are blindsighted by the death of a baby and are in no prepared...that is wonderful.  She tells me they will cremate my precious baby and as soon as I have picked out a special 'container' for her ashes, they will intomb them for me.  They put the obituary in (Thursdays paper), and said we have full access to their facility to hold a service.  I can plan it whenever I want..most likely in a couple weeks.  I want to be able to fully walk around, as well as give it time to sink in for us all.  Alex can't see past worrying about me to think of grieving for himself.  I try to be there for him, but I can't hardly see past any of it to be worth anything to anyone.  I am discharged Wednesday afternoon.  Alex goes to work late, mom is here with me.  Alex has removed all things baby from the car and most of the house-he's good like that.  He goes to work, calls his mom...she gets him to cry some-good, in a way-he needs to cry.  She is as devastated...asks for a picture of Marissa, and comments about the red in her hair (from her side of the family).  I tell Alex I'll send her some of the hair, too...they gave me plenty.  Alex tells her this is the first of his children to carry his last name-and this is what happens.  I hadn't actually thought of it that way until he mentioned it to me.  I carry a black cloud with me-nice of me to share it with him, you know.

So today...Thursday...the day I am due to go to Orlando, be induced, so that I may deliver our beautiful daughter.   Instead, I go to Winn-Dixie to buy 4 newspapers carrying our daughter's obituary.  Arnold Palmer calls at 640pm-they tell me that they can not induce me today, I need to call and make another appointment to come in and deliver her.  I wish I had gotten that call (considering they know she is dead), and ask if I make that appointment, can they deliver me a live child?  Har-de-har-har.  Always the funny girl, I am.  I don't want to be funny anymore.  I don't want to be anything anymore.  I can't handle any of this.  I'm not as strong as anyone thinks, I just play it off like everything is a-o-fucking-kay.  But it's not...I'm not...we aren't. 

I love you, Alex...and I'm so sorry.  Sorry I got you excited about having a baby that "wasn't meant to be".  Sorry you now have to take care of me and worry about me od'ing on pills (which I wouldn't do).  I know you talk about trying again.  I know we will, and we'll both be terrorified the entire pregnancy of the 'what if'.  I'm sorry.