Merry Christmas, I think

Well, Christmas has come and gone like it never was.  We took time on Christmas day to remember Ashlyn.  My mom had cross-stitched a Birth Announcement and we are going to hang it in her room.  It was very pretty.  We left Connor at my parents' house with his cousins and we took time to be alone with her.  I cried and cried.  I had held it together all month but finally I let it hit me for a little while anyway.

Ashlyn should have been here.  I should have been able to buy her little dolls and pink outfits.  I should have been able to hang a "Baby's First Christmas" on the tree, instead of tiny angel booties.  I just don't understand why she had to go through so much and then die.  It seems so pointless. 

Christmas didn't feel like Christmas.  Connor had a great time but I really could have cared less.  The entire vibe was off.  It just seemed like for some reason we had a tree in the front room and opened a couple of gifts, had a big meal and that was it.

So Merry Christmas and hopefully a Happy New Year.  Can't get much worse.

Busy, Busy, Busy

This month has been crazy.  First, I have been trying to get back into being a Wilton Method Cake Decorating Instructor.  I was hired in September but have yet to get a time slot that works at the store,  so classes are being cancelled.  Then there was the Grief Group we have been attending.  It ended on the 18th.  It was kind of weird not having to go out this past Tuesday night.  Then my hubby was sick, then my son and now I am not doing to well.  On top of this we are trying to complete the renos on the basement and I am trying to get ready for Halloween.  

Also this month was the first time I was able to think about Ashlyn and smile.  Yes, I got a bit teary too but at least I could remember her and smile. 

I miss her so much and at the same time it is almost like a dream the time we had together.  There are so many things I regret not doing and things that we did I wish we hadn't.  I think the biggest is the one evening we went up to the hospital and I fed her and was holding her but my hubby was saying we had to leave and get Connor home.  Connor needed to get to bed there was school tomorrow and hubby needed to work in the morning.  I sat there looking at the clock wanting just a bit more time because Ashlyn was not settling down to sleep like she usually did.  I didn't want to leave her when she was awake.  We ended up speaking to the nurse and she told us to put her into the bouncy chair and slide it near the door so that she could keep an eye on her.  We did it and left her there.  That haunts me now.  How could I have done that to her?  Just left her sitting there?  It drives me crazy.  I know she came home and was not the worse for it.  It probably wouldn't bother me so much if she were still with us but she isn't and it does. 

Autopsy Review

Today was a hard day.  First around noon we headed up to the Children's Hospital to attend the autopsy review.  As we had known that Ashlyn died of a stroke they had one of the neurologists who specialized in strokes in children come over and speak to us.  He explained that the stroke itself likely didn't kill her but was probably the only one the medical examiner could find.  He believed her death was likely due to the fact that the cerebellum is so close to the part of the brain stem that controls breathing and that there may have been a primary clot around the area. This first clot may have then split into pieces one of which hit the cerebellum and stuck there.  As both areas are so close together and the part which controlled her breathing was so small it wouldn't have taken much to shut it down and it is too small to actually see if there was damage done there.  As Ashlyn already had a breathing issue with her sleep apnea her tiny body just couldn't survive it.  The doctors all believed that it would have been quick and she wouldn't even have known what was happening.  She just went to sleep and never woke up. 

It is just so unfair.  She went through so much at the hospital and then for some unknown reason she has a stroke.  They have no idea how or why she ended up with a blood clot swimming around.  The doctor thought she just may have been one of the unlucky ones that this happens to and they never know why.  I am just hoping it was quick. 

They all told me once again that there was nothing I could have done to prevent it even if I had been in the room when it happened, even if she had been at the hospital.  But that doesn't make it easier.  I just don't understand it.  My husband is still wanting to know when it happened.  I don't know if I want to know.  I don't know if I could handle it if it turns out I put her down at 1:00 and she died only minutes later.  I don't want to know if she lay in her little crib for hours before I knew she was gone, before we did anything. 

Then later on this evening we had grief group.  I listen and nodded but I couldn't say anything.  I felt like I was interrupting if I did.  I am so exhausted. I need some sleep.  Connor keeps waking up at night and I haven't had a full nights sleep in a week.  He finally got to sleep on his own tonight but I am sure he is going to wake up again and claim he can't get to sleep.  I feel so sorry for my little guy. 

Sometimes I wish I could just curl up into a little ball and go to sleep and never wake up.  I am so tired of dealing with everything and it just seems to never stop.  If it isn't one thing, it is another.  What the hell did I do to deserve this?  What did my boy do?  What is the point?  This so sucks!!

Grief Group

So that last couple of weeks have been pretty difficult.  We started attending a parent's grief group up at the Children's Hospital.  The first night was hard because each family told the story of their child(ren) and how they had passed away.  There were only a couple of us that faced a horrible surprise of finding a dead baby in their crib.  Most had known that their children or babies were dying.  Some were able to make the decision to take a child off life support.  It was really emotional. 

This past week we met again and we watched a video on how some families have coped with losing a special needs child.  Some of it was very familiar.  How your life revolves around the child and how losing the child also takes away a lot of what your life had become, how empty your life now seems.  Then the moms separated from the dads and we continued with our own stories.  It is amazing how connected you feel with other parents.  Losing a child is so different from losing anyone or anything else.  I have lost friends, family, pets, even had 4 miscarriages and it is nothing like this. 

We also had an appointment with my family doctor this week for our first review of the autopsy report.  She couldn't give us too much insight but did tell us that if we wanted to have another baby she would support that decision and help us as much as she could.  I would love to have another baby but I am not sure my body is going to back me up on that and I am not sure if I want any medical intervention to make it happen.  She told us not to wait too long because of my age and suggested that we contact the Fertility Clinic again to see what they have to say.

We have another meeting on Tuesday at the Children's Hospital to review the autopsy report in more detail.  Maybe they can give us a better explanation of what happened.

On a happier note, we had my son's birthday party today.  It had a pirate theme and I think it went rather well.  But I keep thinking that the kids and/or parents went away thinking negative things.  I don't know why. 

The worst thing of the night is that I have a meeting on the 28th.  I have known about this meeting since last May because it is for my son's school fundraising society.  The 28th is my son's birthday and I never made the connection.  I kept talking about my son's birthday being the 28th and never made the connection that the meeting is on the same night until tonight.  Well, I can't go.  I feel pretty bad about it because it is the first meeting of the year but my family comes first.  Especially right now. 

My boy has been having some pretty rough times lately.  He has been waking up screaming in the middle of the night and won't tell us why.  Now we are starting counselling with him.  I hope it helps.  Well, it is getting late.  I hope I can sleep tonight. 

Received the Report

The report came in the mail today.  We sat down and read it.  It appears that other than a few abnormalities associated with her Down Syndrome, she was in great shape.  The report states that she died of the stroke but that there were no other lethal diseases or malformations, which tells me that without the stroke she may have grown up.  They do say that the DS complicated things but they didn't explain how.  They also didn't have any mention of the CPAP.  We have a call into the ME office to find out what the CPAP had to say.  We are curious as to when she actually had the stroke.  The autopsy report has her time of death being 8:13 in the morning but we both know it happened a while before that.  So now we wait again.  They said they would call back around 2:00 pm but we shall see. 

My poor little girl. I wish I had taken more pictures of her when she was home and didn't have the NG tube or duederm on anymore. 

Report is in

Well, on Thursday we received a call from the ME.  The autopsy report is finished.  We should get it in the next 7 to 14 days.  My poor little Ashlyn died of a stroke.  I believe technically it was a Cerebellar Infarction caused by complications due to her Down Syndrome.  What the hell does that mean?  We were pretty devastated all day.  We had been thinking her heart had given out or that the CPAP had not functioned properly.  We didn't even see this coming.  I guess the ME told my hubby that there was nothing that could have been done.  Even if she had been in the hospital, they couldn't have saved her and if  by some miracle they had, she would have been badly brain damaged.  I never wanted her to live her life on machines and it seems she didn't either.  This sucks because I just want my baby.  Wherever we go and do I think, would Ashlyn have liked this?  Ashlyn should be here.  I should have seen her grow up but that will never happen.  My hubby is comforted by the fact that there is nothing we could have done but part of me still doesn't believe it.  Why didn't someone know this was going to happen?  Why didn't they check her blood pressure?  My grief counsellor is going to try to arrange an autopsy review so that we can go over the report with a doctor and have it explained in more detail.

August

Summer is almost over, can you believe it?  My garden is struggling this year.  We moved it so it would get more sunlight but the soil sucks.  And then there is watering.  I have dropped the ball on that one a bit this year.

Ashlyn is making her pressence known a bit more lately.  I don't know why.  Maybe because I am trying to 'normalize' my life too soon.  I don't know.  I just know that I am out of sorts more lately.  I cry alot.  I wish she was here and worry about where she is.  I worry that she is all alone.  I know that an older person could walk on to wherever it is people go but how does a baby get there?  I hate the thought that she is lost or 'stuck' somewhere.  But there is no way to know anything. 

Storm

I have found that grief is like a mountain storm.  It circles around, seeming to go away, only to show up when you least expect it and pound and pour down on you like it is going to drive you into the ground.  The last week or two have been pretty rough for both my husband and myself.  We don't know why the pain gets worse.  You think you are coping well then wham, you buckle at the knees and cry and cry. 

We had to take Connor in for his shots.  I had forgotten that the last time we went in was to get Ashlyn a RSV shot.  But when we sat down in the waiting room my husband and I looked at each other and we both knew.  Then when we went into the appointment, the nurse asked us if we had any other children.  I just broke down into tears.  Yes, we did but we lost her, three months ago.  She said she was sorry, she didn't know.  I pulled myself together and got through the appointment.  Connor took his shots very well, even though they hurt.  He was a very brave little man. 

But how I miss my little girl.  I think the storm is backing off a bit but it will hit again.  I just don't know when, for how long or how hard.  Why did this have to happen to us? to me?  to her?  What did I do that was so wrong for my baby to be taken away from me?  I just don't understand.

Ashlyn's Tree

Finally a picture of Ashlyn's tree.  The flower bed around it is in the shape of a heart.  It will be easier to see once we put in the stone boarder.

Day at the Stampede

Well, going to the Calgary Stampede this year was tougher than I thought it would be. 

My entry into the Calgary Stampede Cake Decorating and Sugar Art competition was started when Ashlyn was alive and I finished it for her.  When I took it in at the end of June and saw the other cakes there, I thought - "Well, I am out of luck."  The cakes already entered were frankly awesome.  Of course they were entered into different categories (classes) but they were great.  The competition is broken down into several classes within the cake decorating section.  Mine was entered into the Novelty Class.  I knew it wouldn't win the Section and very much doubted it would win the Class.  Well, it did win the Class.  Of course, from what I could see it was the only one entered into that class so it was kind of a win by default - or at least that is how it appears to me.  I don't know if they can even decide not the give out a ribbon in the class if there is only one entry and it sucks.  Anyway, it was a win.

The next thing we went to was the BMO kids midway.  Connor had a blast.  It was okay for me until I saw a little girl.  It wasn't the baby per say that upset me.  It was her tiny little pink cowboy boots.  I had wanted to buy some for my Ashlyn.  Now I never will.  Then of course, every little girl I saw reminded me of what I would never be able to do with Ashlyn.  God it is hard not to cry in public; to try to not wreck your little boy's day.

We then headed over to the military exhibit.  We checked out the tank and part of a CF-18.  My husband dry-shot some sort of rifle over with the Rangers.  Yes, Canadians have their own Rangers.  Ours are a very different kind than the American's.  Then Connor hopped into the small boat the Navy had on display.  I don't know why he keeps heading for the Navy when his granddads are both Airforce and his Dad is Army.  I don't get it.  We then popped over to the barns to check out the horses. 

Next we went into the vendor area where all the small retailers set up.  As we wandered through I noticed moon necklaces that seemed to be glowing.  I wandering over to take a look.  At first I thought they slowly changed moon phases while you wore them but they didn't.  They were birth moon necklaces.  They have the phase of the moon on the day that you were born and once exposed to light for a period of time they "charge" enough to glow for about an hour in the dark.  I found mine first but then asked the woman to look up Ashlyn's.  I bought the necklace for my little girl.  She will never wear it but I will.  It also has a magnet that is supposed to bring good luck.  I could certainly use a little luck right now.

We then went back out to the kid's midway and Connor had a bit more fun before we wandered back over to find my parents and watch the fireworks.  Then it was time to head home on the train.  Connor loved the fireworks.  He had a really great day.  He is such a great little boy.

Six Month Old

Ashlyn would have been six months old on Tuesday.  The pain of her loss is crushing me tonight.  I miss her so much.  I can't stop crying. 

Grief Weight???

I never knew that you could gain weight due to grief, but I think I am a perfect example of it.  When I had Ashlyn I lost about 25 lbs in the couple of months she was alive.  I was looking forward to breastfeeding helping to take off a few more.  Then that became pumping because Ashlyn just didn't understand breastfeeding.  The look she always gave me was "you have got to be kidding".  Anyway, back to the weight.  Now I have gained back almost all the weight I have lost and it just seems to stick there.  Nothing like adding to my stress, which is probably adding to my weight.  It is just a vicious circle. 

End of June

Has it really been since May that I posted?  Wow!  Time really flies when times suck.  The last few weeks have been pretty rough.  I was right to be worried about what would happen when the time Ashlyn has been gone would be longer than when she was alive.  That weekend was really rough.  We miss her so much.  At least it is getting a bit easier to think about her without bursting into tears.  Still my hubby had a rough time over the weekend with Father's Day.  He told me last night that he was so sorry he had to leave me alone on Mother's Day to deal with Ashlyn being gone.  I told him I really wasn't alone I went to my parent's place.  Still he said it must have been rough for me.  But it really wasn't because I didn't let myself think about it. 

I try not to think about it because when I do it is so overwhelming that I can hardly breathe.  The pain just crushes you.  I have been on the sleeping pills for about a month and now I am afraid I won't be able to sleep without them.  If it wasn't for my son, I don't know if I would have survived this long.

We attended the Alberta Children's Hospital Memorial on May 28.  It was a nice service but seemed to be geared more to the families whose children had been in the palliative care ward before they died.  When they did the slide show of the children, it was a very emotional moment for the room.  There was a point I just wanted to get out of there because of the sobbing women.  The amount of emotion was smothering.  They had a small reception afterwards.  Each family was able to take home a small perennial plant.  I planted the little bellflower I had chosen under Ashlyn's Mountain Ash Tree.  Once we get a new camera I will take a picture.  We also attended the sweetgrass ceremony following the service.  It was very interesting as I had never been to one before.

So life creeps on.  I should be getting to bed.  I need to be able to get up with Connor in the morning. Only 5 days of school left.  I don't know what I am going to do when he is finished for summer holidays.

Rain

It is pouring rain, again.  This past week has been so depressing because of the rain and gloomy skys.  Yesterday was the 2 month anniversary since Ashlyn died.  I don't know how I will handle next month when she will be dead longer than she was alive.  I am trying to get more sleep.  The doctor put me on pills but they don't seem to work very well.  It still takes forever to get to sleep.  I am still waking up in the middle of the night and now I am groggy all day.  This just sucks. 

Saturday will be the memorial for lost children at the Alberta Children's hospital.  We are going but I don't know how I am going to handle it.  I miss my baby so much.

Ashlyn's Tree

So we have now planted Ashlyn's tree - a Showy Mountain Ash.  It is still quite young but I hope it will make it.  Once we have the flower bed around it finished I will be able to take a picture and post it.

Mother's Day came and went and it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be.  Perhaps because I wasn't at home much.  I ended up at my own parent's house and the day was passed pretty uneventfully.  I ended up having a bad day a few days later.  I haven't been sleeping very well since Ashlyn died.  I even had one day when I was up until 5:00 am and had to be up again by 10:00 to take care of my son.  That was a weird day. 

Well last week I ended up in a bad way.  I went to bed and just couldn't stop thinking then I had what I can only describe as a flashback.  I could see Ashlyn lying in her bed all over again, cold and still.  I began to hyperventilate and sob.  It felt like I had lost all control.  I just couldn't get the image out of my head.  I went down to see my hubby and cried with him for awhile before he took me back up to bed. 

It is so strange.  Most days, it is like she is just out of reach.  Like she is behind a pane of glass or something and I just can't get to her.  It is frustrating.  I miss her so much.  I finally went to see my doctor a couple of days ago and she prescribed some sleeping pills to get me back to a regular schedule.  I don't know how well they are working yet and I have to be careful with them as they can be addicting. 

Life was so simple and perfect only seven weeks ago - now it is broken and so crappy.

Mother's Day

How I dread tomorrow.  Mother's Day.  My son is expecting a good day but I miss Ashlyn so much.  Today was hard.  Walking through the mall with other mothers and babies, wondering what I did so wrong that I couldn't keep mine.  When I remember the little things she used to do, how she used to look when I asked her if she was hungry, or how she would stretch every morning on her changing table, I start with a smile and end in tears.  I just want to hold her again.  I found the following poem online a couple of years ago following one of my miscarriages.  I used it as the ending to Ashlyn's Video which was played at her funeral.  I don't know who wrote it.

The world may never notice

If a Snowdrop doesn’t bloom,

Or even pause to wonder

If the petals fall too soon.

But every life that ever forms,

Or ever comes to be,

Touches the World in some small way

For all eternity.

The little one we longed for

Was swiftly here and gone.

But the love that was then planted

Is a light that still shines on.

And though our arms are empty,

Our hearts now what to do.

For every beating of our hearts

Says that we love you.

"A Walk to Remember" by Kathie Rataj Mayo

I walk to remember

the steps you'll never take.



Ashlyn's Last Picture



I carry you with me as I firmly plant my feet.

Our trek started long ago,

before my belly swelled.

You were a love  that grew-

like butterfly wings that beat.

Your gentle flutters then became

kicks upon which I would dwell.

And I would talk to you, sweet babe,

and the world you soon would meet.

The sun always shone upon us then-

when you were in my womb.

And I was eager to show you the world

that you would have been your home.

How you'd have loved the sun shining-

blue skies without a cloud.

The autumn leaves turning-

the snow falling all around.

The flowers in the summer

would have filled your eyes with smiles.

And the rain that might have fallen

would have caused you great surprise.

You would have traveled far with me-

holding me by the hand.

And I'd have shown you all I could-

more than I can imagine.

You hold my HEART tightly now,

as though we're holding hands.

How far we've traveled, little one-

and my life with you has been sweet.

For I carry you in my heart, as I firmly plant my feet.

Funeral

March 25, 2011.  The day Ashlyn died.  It was a strange day.  After I told the doctors to let her go my hubby finally arrived.  I didn't even tell him about Ashlyn, my Dad did.  I can't remember when my Mom got there.  Things are kind of blurry now.  They asked if we were ready to see Ashlyn (I had asked about this earlier).  My son, Connor, was off with the social worker and we, my hubby and I and my parents, went to say good-bye to Ashlyn.  I remember that I almost passed out walking down the short hall.  I kept thinking "I can't do this, but I have to."  There were other EMS techs, doctors and nurses in the hall.  Everyone got really quiet as we walked down that hall.  Just before we went into the trauma room, the police officers stopped Greg and told them how sorry they were.  I guess they had spoken to the doctors and the investigation on their part was now closed.  We then continued on into the room.

Little Ashlyn lay swaddled up in a small white hospital blanket.  She was still intubated because they couldn't remove the tube until the Medical Examiner got there to do a preliminary examination.  I just looked at her still little body.  She didn't look right.  It wasn't her.  She wasn't there anymore.  My poor baby.  Each of us held her and told her how much we loved her.  I was surprised by how heavy she felt, how very cold.  I rocked her and told her how sorry I was.  I was sure that if I had gotten up sooner I could have saved her.  It was all my fault.  My poor baby was gone. 

My hubby wanted to know if we should bring Connor in to see her.  He is only 5 years old.  We weren't sure how much he would understand.  We asked the nurse, he didn't know what to say.  Finally we decided to ask Connor what he wanted.  I guess he decided to say good-bye because my hubby led him into the room with him.  My little man walked over to Ashlyn and told her good-bye and that he loved her.  He gave her a "poked nose" with his finger and then left the room with my hubby to return to playing with the police officers.  I think it was then that they said the ME had arrived and would need to see Ashlyn.

We left the room and went back to the Quiet Room.  Sometime that morning I the social worker had explained that as this was an unexpected and unexplained death the ME would be involved.  The ME would be coming to speak to us at some point to discuss what would happen next. We waited in that little room for a few more moments before the ME came in.  She asked us about Ashlyn's medical history and about our routines at home.  She advised that she would have to return to our home and take pictures of Ashlyn's bedroom.  I asked if there was going to be an autopsy.  My hubby said he wanted one.  The ME said they had to do one.  I said I really didn't want one.  I know what an autopsy entailed and I really didn't want my little girl put through that.  But again, as with most of her short life, I had no say in the matter. 

We were told we could go and say our final good-byes to Ashlyn before she was moved the ME's office.  We went back into the room.  I think everyone held her once again.  I held her last.  I rocked her little body,  so cold, so still.  I was torn.  I didn't want to leave her there but also knew it wasn't her anymore.  What made Ashlyn, Ashlyn was gone.  I kissed her cold cheek and told her to be a good girl then I handed her to the nurse and left the room. 

We returned to house.  Connor and I went with the police and my hubby went with the ME.  We all arrived at the house about the same time.  There had been a police car in front of the house all the time we were gone.  My house was a disaster area.  I hadn't done much cleaning since Ashlyn had been born.  All my time had been concentrated on her.  But strangely enough I wasn't so embarrassed, that would come later.  The ME, one police officer and my Hubby went upstairs to Ashlyn's room.  The other police officer stayed downstairs, talking to the dog and my son.  I went upstairs and watched as the ME asked a few more questions, took pictures and bagged up Ashlyn's blankets and CPAP for the investigation.  Everyone left the house.  We were finally alone and I just collapsed to the floor crying for my baby.

The next week went by fairly quickly.  We received a call from the ME later on Friday and were advised that all they had found so far was an abnormal heart, that it was likely she died of heart failure.  We are going to have to wait about 6 months for the final report. My sister-in-law came down from Cold Lake to help us out.  She had lost her first son years before and knew what we were going through.  Ashlyn's body was to be released on Monday and we made arrangements for the funeral home to pick her up.  My hubby and I and my parents went to the funeral home to make the arrangements for her funeral.  We picked out a pretty pink and lace casket.  We decided that she would be cremated so that she could come with us wherever we went.  We are military brats so moving is always a possibility.  When we decide on a place for my hubby and I, she will be put to rest with us. 

On the Wednesday, my hubby, my sister-in-law and I went for a private viewing at the funeral home.  My hubby said he needed to see her.  She had spent so much time in the hospital - longer than she had at home - that he was having a hard time believing she was gone and not just at the hospital.  So we went.  Connor stayed with my parents.  We walked into the funeral home and were led to a set of wooden double doors.  They had a guest book at the doors and a rose for us, which we could put in the casket if we chose.  I was okay until we walked into the room and I saw her lying there in her pretty pink casket at the far end of the room.  I began to sob.  When I finally calmed enough I walked over to look down at her.  She was dressed in her little pink outfit that we had brought her home from the hospital in and wearing her the matching hat.  But it wasn't her.  It didn't even really look like her, at least not to me.  Her skin was icy cold and felt more like leather when you touched it then the petal soft skin she had.  We cried and cried. 

A second private viewing was held on Friday.  We went to the funeral home with the things we were going to place into her casket.  A picture of my hubby and I holding her, a picture of Connor holding her, a yellow rose (from my hubby's mom), the baby blanket I had made, the teddy our son wanted to give her, and a small braid of sweet grass to help her on her way when the time came.  My family was there and my hubby's brother had made it out from Ontario. People went into the little room and said good-bye.  My son ran in and out of the room giving "poked noses" to Ashlyn.  Finally it was time to leave.  My son said good-bye to his sister and cried a little.

We held Ashlyn's funeral on April 2.  It was a week and a day following her death.  It was again a wintery and stormy day.  I dressed in my black pants and shirt.  One of our friends came and took my son to their house because he didn't want to attend the funeral.  He had said good-bye for the final time the night before during the viewing.  We went to the funeral home and were met there by the rest of my family. 

I went through alot of Kleenex that morning.  I touched her skin and slid my finger under her sleeper to stroke her arm.  I wanted to know if it felt any different where there wasn't any make up.  It did.  It was a little softer but just as cold.  She smelled of baby powder.  Finally it was time to close the casket.  My hubby picked her up and we wrapped her in her blanket for the last time.  Carefully she was placed back into her casket with all of her things and the lid was closed.

Many more people attended Ashlyn's funeral than I expected.  My hubby and I did well with the eulogy.  I had written it and didn't think it would be so hard to read but it was.  He picked up where I stumbled.  The celebrant who led the service was very good.  Following the service there was a short reception.  Once it was over and it was time to leave I didn't want to go.  To leave meant that it was really over, Ashlyn was really gone.  But we couldn't stay and so we left and went back to my parent's house for the remainder of the day.

Final Day

It is now May.  Ashlyn has been gone for 5 weeks.  She was only home for 4 weeks before she died.  She came home on February 25 and I found her cold and still in her crib on March 25. 

There were so many people she didn't get the chance to meet. She came home and I spent most of my time, pumping, feeding, washing clothes and trying to make sure my son could still get to school.  We were told she was doing fine.  She was gaining weight. Ashlyn was at the upper end of the scale for weight gain.  She was wearing her CPAP at night even though she didn't like it.  She was eating like a little pig.  Ashlyn was starting to interact with the family.  Even Max our Golden Retriever was accepting her.  He would lick her hand and sniff her over to make sure she was okay.  If she started crying he would walk over to see what was wrong.  On the other hand, the cat didn't really give her the time of day.  Of course, Willow is getting on in years.  Everything was going so well.

On the Thursday night we fed her like we always did.  My hubby gave Ashlyn her bottle while I pumped.  Then he headed up to bed while I sat up with her.  Due to the possible issue of reflux she had to sit up 15 to 30 minutes after feeding.  So I would sit with her at night because hubby had to get up early.  I remember her lying on my chest.  I would rub the top of her soft head with my chin and rub her back.  I noticed that night that she had grown so much that her feet were finally reaching my waist and she wasn't the tiny little ball she used to be.  I remember thinking I was going to miss that.  Ashlyn was to be our last baby.  My life felt complete.

I took her up to bed around 12:30 am. I rocked her gently in my arms while I slipped her tiny knitted hat on her head.  The hat would keep her CPAP from slipping.  I laid her gently in bed, put on her music - rather the sound of ocean waves - and slipped out of the room.  I then got ready for bed and laid down for a few minutes to allow her to settle before I went back in to put on her CPAP.  I got up around quarter to 1:00 and slipped into her room.  I carefully slipped the nasal CPAP over her nose and tightened the straps.  She made a little fuss and with her tiny fists tried to push the mask off. I quickly started the machine and  then placed a hand on her tummy and gently rocked her.  She settled.  I stood at her bedside for a few minutes to make sure everything was in the right place, making sure the mask wasn't blocking her nose, making sure she was okay.  I remember her little eyes opened just to slits and she looked at me for a minute.  I told her goodnight and she closed her eyes as I slipped out of the room.

I decided not to turn on my alarm to wake me up because for the last few nights she had been waking me up to eat before the alarm went off.  I decided that I would see how long she would be able to sleep.  She was 2 and 1/2 months old.  My son had been sleeping through the night by 3 months.  Of course he was bigger and weighed more but I decided to see how it went.

I woke up around 6:15 and looked at the clock.  She hadn't cried.  I wondered if I should get up and wake her up.  Should she have slept so long?  I began to get an uneasy feeling.  I tossed and turned for a few more minutes then decided I needed to get up.  I went to the bathroom and then headed into her room.  I don't think I will ever forget that morning for as long as I live.

The CPAP machine was still running.  A blowing kind of noise.  Ashlyn lay quiet and still.  "Ashlyn"  I said.  She didn't move. I couldn't tell if she was breathing or not.  Her little arms were lying close to either side of her head.  She was on her back.  Her blanket was folded down around her waist.  I looked at her, a feeling of panic began to well up inside me.   I placed my hand on her tummy and gently shook her "Ashlyn?"  She was cold.  I still couldn't tell if she was breathing.  I shook her again.  "Ashlyn!"  The thought rushed into my head that perhaps something was wrong with the CPAP and it was smothering her.  I riped it off her face.  Terror rushed through me.  "Ashlyn!"  I tried to open her mouth but was afraid of hurting her and couldn't.

I picked her up and ran to our bedroom.  I woke up my hubby. "I don't think Ashlyn is breathing."  I so wanted him to tell me I was crazy and that everything was alright.  I put her down on the bed beside him.  His manner changed from "you're nuts" to concern when he placed his hand on her tummy for a moment.  "Call 911."  He ordered.  I remember picking up the phone I don't remember dialling the number.  He switched on the hands free and began to receive instructions on CPR.  It is strange, we had both taken CPR before our son was born but I didn't remember anything at this point.

I ran downstairs to wait for the ambulance, to open the door.  I remember standing at the window.  Tears pouring down my face, wondering why it was taking them so long to get here.  I kept saying, "where are you?"  I heard my husband tell the 911 operator that Ashlyn was bleeding from her nose.  I knew at that moment she was gone.  "My baby is dead."

I heard the sirens before I saw the truck.  It drove up as I unlocked the door.  Two fireman in half gear stormed into the house and up the stairs.  I followed them up and went into my son's room.  I could see them pick her up off the floor and pound her on her back trying to start her breathing again.  I told my son that Ashlyn was very sick and there were alot of people in the house.  He was half asleep and didn't care.  Hubby threw my clothes at me and told me to get dressed.  Unfortunately they fell in the cat's water dish.  I watched as the fireman and who knows who else took Ashlyn down the stairs and out of the house to the waiting ambulance.

I don't really remember what happened next.  I do remember getting dressed.  I don't remember leaving my son's room or how I got into my room.  I don't remember going downstairs but I do remember my hubby telling me to get Ashlyn's Alberta Health card and to give it to the EMS.  I grabbed my coat, don't remember which one, and headed outside.  I walked to the back of the ambulance and knocked on the door.  I asked if they needed the card.  The EMS tech said no, get in the front.  Then she slammed the door.  I stood there in the snow and cold, crying, not knowing what to do. 

I stood beside the ambulance, probably in shock.  A police officer asked me if I was going with the ambulance.  I said I didn't know. I didn't know what I was supposed to do. He said he would check and headed back into the house.  I stood there for a few minutes then decided that if I was going with the ambulance I would need my cell phone.  I walked back into the house.  The police officer was standing at the stairs.  He told me I was going with the ambulance.  I said I need my phone.  Hubby said you aren't calling anyone, I will.  I said I need my phone and went to get it.  I don't remember getting the phone.  I just remember that I had it and I went out to get into the front seat of the ambulance.

It seemed to take forever before the tech got into the front seat to drive.  She said I would have to tell her the quickest way to get out of our neighbourhood.  I remember giving instructions.  I remember issues with getting out of the cul-de-sac.  I remember driving down the street.  I guess we were moving pretty fast but it didn't seem so to me.  I remember the lights were on. There was a point when the other EMS tech in the back popped his head in to say that Ashlyn was fighting.  I wondered how that could be, she was dead.  The siren was off and on depending on traffic.  I remember arriving at the hospital.

The tech in the back told the driver to take me to the quiet room.  For me that sealed it.  I knew Ashlyn was dead.  They don't put people in the quiet room unless something is really wrong.  I sat in the room with the charge nurse.  She asked me questions about Ashlyn and her condition and treatments.  I told her everything I could remember.  She popped out to relay the information to the doctors.  When she came back she sat beside me.  I said "She dead isn't she."  The charge nurse said she couldn't tell me that.  The doctor would have to speak to me.  I sat in that room crying, shredding Kleenex and staring at the clock.  The nurse came and went.  She was waiting for the social worker that didn't start work until 8:00.  I wondered where hubby was. 

We called my parent's house and got no answer.  I thought that perhaps hubby had already called them.  The the doctor came in.  He explained that they couldn't get Ashlyn's heart to start pumping.  They had injected drugs and were hoping but it didn't look good.  He said that I should start to think about what I wanted to do.  I told him that I couldn't make any decisions without my hubby.  I just didn't want him to be angry that I went ahead with such a life and death decision that he didn't have a say in.  He said okay, they would keep working on her.  I asked about brain activity and was told they didn't have any monitors to check for brain activity.  He would be back shortly and he left the room.

My dad arrived sometime that morning.  I can't remember if it was before the doctor came in the first time or after.  Anyway, I just shook my head and he burst into tears.   I told him to sit down.  Shortly after this we finally got ahold of hubby and I told him to come to the hospital now.  He said that he was involved in an investigation and answering police questions.  I said tell them to wait.  You have to come to the hospital NOW.  He must have finally got the message. He hung up.  The charge nurse said she would do what she could to get him there fast.

It wasn't fast enough.  I sat with my Dad when the doctor came back in.  He explained that the drugs hadn't done anything.  If they had been administered sooner, maybe but not now.  He said that Ashlyn was becoming mottled and that if anything continuing to work on her was just causing suffering.  I asked again about brain activity and the doc said that it was not likely.  They had been working on her for over an  hour and I added that we didn't know how long she had been down before EMS had arrived.  He agreed. There was no hope.  I told them to let her go.  I don't think I have ever felt as alone as I did at that moment, even with my Dad there.  This was the worst decision I had ever had to face and I had to make it alone.

Life Part 1

I went for my first grief counselling session today.  I just didn't know what to say at first so I just told her about my baby's short life. 

First we had to deal with all the tests done because she had Down Syndrome.  She had an EKG to check out her heart, a common DS problem.  She had to have her blood checked because of my gestational diabetes and she was found to have low sugar.  They started pushing her feeding.  They were so worried about how much she was eating.  I was afraid to even touch her.  It seemed that she wasn't my baby at all.  The pediatrician came in and looked her over.  She had the results of her heart tests and said that Ashlyn was only suffering from typical newborn issues.  Prior to birth a baby does not use its lungs so the body compensates for that by bypassing the lungs using a small hole in the heart and a small blood vessel, both of which were still evident but appeared to be closing.  They also noted that she the lower right portion of her heart was enlarged.  I was told these things were pretty normal and that they would clear up. Ashlyn was born on Wednesday night and finally allowed to go home on Saturday. 

We began to start setting up a routine.  The DS was foremost in my mind.  I wondered how this would affect her future.  Would she make friends?  Be able to be on her own?  Would my son have to look after her once we were gone?  Would she ever get a job?  Be able to read?  But even with those thoughts late at night, she was just a beautiful baby during the day.  She needed to be snuggled and changed and fed and most of all loved.  And we loved her so much.

I noticed that she was beginning to eat more slowly.  Then on Tuesday morning she wouldn't wake up to feed.  I tickled and kissed her.  I wiggled her and took her out of her blankets.  I did everything the hospital had told me.  She just wouldn't cooperate.  Finally about mid-morning she took her bottle and began to eat only to seem to choke.  I pulled out the nipple and she just coughed up all the milk.  It poured out her nose and mouth.  I had been discussing with my husband whether we should take her to the hospital, now I was crying.  It scared me and Ashlyn looked at me with her big eyes, just seeming to be asking for help.  As my hubby came down the stairs into the living room I said we have to go the hospital now.  He was already dressed and ready to go.  We quickly piled everything into the car, including my son and rushed to the Children's Hospital. 

We were worried as to whether she was okay and although she cried most of the way to the hospital, at least it told us she was still breathing and alive.  Once we got there, we parked and rushed into the hospital only to stand in line.  The woman in front of us in the triage line moved and let us go ahead of her.  Once we were called we all went into a little room.  The nurse asked us questions as she looked little Ashlyn over.  Abruptly she said, "this little one needs attention now", picked her up and rushed into the back with us following.  She called for teams as she found a bed.  She ordered a warming bed and immediately put my tiny baby on oxygen.  I just started to cry.  My husband was strong and able to answer questions.  As more and more doctors arrived I took my son out to the waiting room and called my parents.  They said they would come to the hospital as soon as they could and take my son if we couldn't leave yet. 

The first part of my nightmare started that day.  Ashlyn was admitted to the hospital that day and ended up staying there for the next 6 weeks.  The hardest part was that we brought her in because she was having trouble with breathing and eating which we thought was because of a stuffy nose and it seemed that she just got sicker most of the time she was there.  My husband stayed as the hospital for the first week while my daughter was in Unit 2, once she was moved to the PICU, he ended up getting sick and had to came home. 

My poor baby, we had a parade of doctors and nurses and specialists.  We had the genetics people come in and talk about her diagnosis of DS.  They tested her for a variety of infections but found none.  So we thought good, she will come home soon.  But then they found she had obstructive sleep apnea and had to go for more tests.  These tests had to be done in the PICU so off she went.  There was no rooming in in the ICU and it was here that she was first given an NG tube.  I still remember being on the phone with my husband while he was trying to explain what was going on and hearing her scream in the background.  It was awful.  I was angry and didn't want such a thing done to her but what rights do you have once your child is in the hospital?  None.  The doctors do whatever they feel is best and it is basically "screw you".  I kept being told that it was for her own good. 

It took a few days longer than we thought to find a CPAP to fit her tiny nose and face so she was put on high flow oxygen.  Finally she was tested on the CPAP and able to move back up to Unit 2.  Good, now perhaps we could start looking at going home but no.  Things only got worse.  We received a phone call at 2:00 in the morning on a Thursday and were told that they were no longer feeding her by mouth because she had had an "episode" and scared the nurse.  I was furious.  What the hell were they doing to my daughter?  We went in to see her the next day and I told them I wanted to speak to a pediatrician now, right now. It took about 2 hours for the doctor to show up but I was so angry they ended up bringing in most of the team.  I told them that she had been fine when we left the day before so what the hell had they done?  They said that they didn't know what had gone wrong.  They suspected that she had aspirated her milk and because they weren't sure they didn't want to chance feeding her by mouth so she was back on the damned NG tube.  I was still angry and told them that she had just come in for a stuffy nose and just seemed to be getting worse.  They said they had arranged for a feeding test to take place the next week.

On Saturday again at 2:00 we received another phone call.  Now they had found blood in her stool and were afraid she had NEC.  I asked my husband what was going one.  He was half asleep and said it was nothing.  I was pretty sure that it was more than that and called the hospital back.  I told them I didn't want a resident to call I wanted the pediatrician.  I received the call back and was told that Ashlyn could just have a cut, or perhaps an allergy to milk but they were suspecting it was NEC.  She had had an x-ray and they were waiting for the results but because of the seriousness of NEC Ashlyn would be taken off all food until she had recovered.  I was horrified.  No food?  They weren't serious?  I was pretty hysterical.  What were they doing to my baby in that hospital? 

We again went back to the hospital.  The surgeons had been consulted and came to speak to us.  The plan was to put her back on antibiotics for 5 days and no food for 5 days and see how she did.  There was a possibility was requiring treatment for up to 14 days.  She would require a PICC line to be inserted in order to feed her with TPN, which due to its consistency and content could not be administered through a normal IV.  It would take a couple of days to get a PICC in and she would be on just normal IV in the meantime.  Then she blew her IV and had to have another inserted but no one could get the damn thing in and she was beginning to become dehydrated.  We had gone out to eat something and we received a call that my husband needed to get back up to the hospital right away to sign a consent.  No one had been able to get a line in and they needed to go to the OR to have something done right away.  He called me from the hospital to explain the worse case scenario which was an insertion point in her neck when the doctor came out and said he had gotten it in in her foot on the first try but we would be lucky if it lasted 24 hours.

Ashlyn's first PICC line was inserted the next day but the doctor was not too pleased with the placement and advised that another should be placed so they didn't run into the same problem again on a weekend when there was no one around to do it.  So I had to take my poor baby back up to the OR for a second insertion.  This one went well and it stayed in until the day she was released from the hospital. 

I went on a dairy free diet in order to produce dairy free breastmilk, which I was told would be best for her.  Even if she didn't have a milk allergy it would be easier on her stomach when they were able to start feeding her again.  Of course all of this delayed the feeding test.  Finally after 5 days they declared that the NEC had resolved and they would be starting her on Pedialyte to see how her bowel would take it.  If that worked they would start her on breastmilk and begin to gradually wean her off of the TPN.  This process took about another week.  Then they had to schedule the FEES test for feeding.  She came through that with flying colours.  She was not aspirating her milk.  I then wanted to start her back on bottle feeding.  My major concern was with creating an oral aversion where she would end up not wanting to feed by mouth at all.  So it took another week or so before she was back to feeding primarily by bottle. 

She was finally released on February 25.  She came home with her CPAP machine and the hated NG, which my husband and I had to be trained on how to insert and remove.  I really hated that.  In the end she didn't need it and it was removed after a week and never replaced.

I believed that the nightmare was finally over.  I had been so sure all the time she was in the hospital that she would never come home.  I was sure they would kill her but in the end she did come home.  Of course I now had to deal with the new reality of having a Home Care Nurse at my house once a week to check on us.  The respiratory therapist would also be showing up to check on Ashlyn but at least she would be home where she belonged.  Maybe now I could start to feel like she was my daughter.  By this time the fact that she had DS was irrelevant.  We just wanted her to live and grow, anything else we would deal with as it came.  I was so afraid that the nurses would take her away from me again.  As much as I wanted them to come to the house and tell me everything was okay, I also dreaded those visits.

Birth

What do you do on the 1 month anniversary of your daughter's death?  Well, I am thinking about her birth, her short life and her sudden death.  I ache to hold her and to stroke her soft cheek. 

I went into labour on January 12 around 2:00 am.  I rolled around in bed.  I got up and paced.  At first I thought I had eaten something bad.  When I laid down again I realized that the pain was coming in waves.  I began to check the time and noticed they were about 5 minutes apart.  Then around 4:00 they stopped.  I had contractions on and off most of the morning.  My poor husband spent so much time wondering if he should go to work or stay home.  Finally around noon I told called my mom and said I was heading to the hospital. We took my son over to my parents and headed to the hospital.

We got to the hospital around 3:00 pm.  I was taken into triage and checked out.  Sure enough I was in labour.  They found me a L&D room and I settled in to get comfortable.  Now I had made some decisions with this birth.  My son's had been hell, back labour and too many drugs.  Well, this one was going to be different.  Oh it was different all right.  I was hooked up to monitors and machines due to my rising blood pressure.  When could I get up and walk around?  Only to hit the bathroom, if necessary.  Well, that wasn't in the plan. 

My progress was very slow but I hadn't required any drugs.  It was recommended that I have an epi due to my blood pressure but I didn't want one yet.  I breathed through my contractions and began chanting "relax" as each one hit.  Around 7:00 they decided to break my water, hoping to speed things up.  The nurse said she would go on a break because she doubted anything was going to happen.

Around 7:45 I asked the nurse to call in the doctor to do an epi as the pain was getting pretty intense.  I waited until about quarter after 8 before the doctor got there.  I kept wondering where the hell he was.  Then I had to sit up on the edge of the bed while he prepared everything.  Sitting up was excruciating.  The contractions were now coming hard and fast.  The doctor kept telling me not to move.  It was pure torture.  He finally got the epi needle in and prepare but before he had time to actually administer any drugs I was falling onto my back screaming.  The nurse tried to check me to see what was going on and immediately said "page the doctor this baby is coming now".  They tried to get me to stop pushing and pant.  Screw that.  I could hear the one doctor say that he would inject a little drug to "take the edge off".  I really didn't feel any pain relief but by the time I was pushing the pain was very different.  I even remember saying "I'm crowning".

I gave birth to Ashlyn Elizabeth at 8:49 pm on January 12, 2011.  She popped into the world a crying and beautiful baby.  She weighed in at 5 lbs. 9 oz.  We had expected her to be bigger.  They placed her on my tummy and I looked down into her tiny little face.  Her eyes were wide open and looking at me.  At first I could only see my beautiful girl but within a few moments I could see that there was something different about her. 

They took her over to the warming bed and the doctor and OB looked her over.  I was then asked if I had known about any problems she might have.  I said that we had been told there could be a possibility of Down Syndrome.  The doctors looked her over and said that she had alot of the characteristics of a DS baby.  She would have to be seen by the Pediatrician in the morning.  I took the news pretty much in stride.  I think the hormone soup I was swimming in had alot to do with that.  I had my baby girl and for that moment in time I was blissfully happy.

BA - Before Ashlyn

Who was Ashlyn?  She was a dream, a vision.  She was my beautiful baby girl.  She was only here for a short time and then she was gone.

Ashlyn's story started long before she was born.  You see I had had my son in 2005.  It was my plan to wait for a couple of years before trying for a second.  I didn't think I would run into any problems.  I became pregnant with Connor only weeks after coming off of birth control.  It had been so easy.  But I was soon to learn that having a baby is not as simple as it seems.  At least not for me.

I came off  birth control pills in June 2007.  I was pregnant by July.  I thought great, here we go.  No problem.  But of course there was a problem and I lost the baby in August.  I was heartbroken but I also knew that miscarriages are fairly common. Many women have at least one in their life.  So we tried again.  In January 2008 I was pregnant again.  I believed things were going well until sometime in March.  I began to have a bad feeling that something was wrong.  I had an ultrasound.  I was told the baby was small for my dates but I could have miscalculated.  I knew I hadn't miscalculated.  It took almost 2 weeks for the bleeding to start. 2 weeks of doctors not telling me what was going on.  I rushed to Emergency on April 2 due to the bleeding.  I was told that I was fully dilated and definitely having a miscarriage.  Due to the amount of bleeding I could have a D&C.  I opted for the surgery.  I was traumatized and again heartbroken.  I will never forget many of the details of that day.  I was so scared.  I knew my baby was gone and had begun to fear for my life.  What would happen to my son if I died?  After surgery I only remember feeling so empty.

Surprisingly for some I couldn't give up on my dream of having a second child.  I became pregnant again in June 2008 and miscarried in July.  I tried again and became pregnant yet again in September 2008 only to be told that there was no heartbeat in December 2008, less than 2 weeks before Christmas.  Again I miscarried naturally at home.  4 losses in a matter of months.  I didn't know what was wrong and was finally referred to a specialist.

2009 was spent dealing with tests at the fertility clinic that turned up nothing.  I was suffering from "unexplained secondary infertility".  I turned then to acupuncture and traditional Chinese medicine, which while it made me feel better, did not result in a pregnancy.  I was told by my TCM doctor that my body needed to recover.  I had had too many pregnancies too close together.  At a deep level I agreed with her.  Finally in July 2009, my body and mind had had all it could take.  I had been working full-time then and all it took was an off-hand demanding comment from a neurotic boss and I crumbled.  I didn't even really know why.  I completely fell apart.  I went on short term disability and within weeks had quit my job.

By the end of 2009 I was beginning to accept that I would never become pregnant again, never have another baby.  It hurt like hell.  I felt so guilty that my dear little boy would be an only child, that once my husband and I were gone he would alone.  During the first months of 2010, I started to refocus my dreams.  I concentrated on what I could do with my son.  He would be starting school in the fall and I began to deal with not having him with me,  having to allow another adult into his life.  I have always been very protective of my son and I didn't know if I could let him go.  His first day of school was a killer.  I cried all the way home after dropping him off.

It was on a warm spring day at the end of April 2010 after my husband asked a few questions that I realized I was late.  The next day I took a pregnancy test and I was pregnant!  But I was so sure it was wrong.  I bought another test the next day.  Again it was positive.  I was excited and happy but terrified, so sure something would go wrong.  I called the fertility clinic and was immediately put on progesterone and weekly blood tests.  At 5 weeks I began to bleed.  I was sure it was over.  I called the clinic in tears.  I was booked in for an ultrasound the next day.  The ultrasound showed what appeared to be 2 sacs, although only one appeared to have a fetal pole.  Twins!  Wow!  I couldn't believe it.  The doctor could not find any bleeding.  He scheduled me for follow-up ultrasound the next week.

At 6 weeks, there was only one sac left.  If there had been a twin, it was now gone.  They also found a small bleed near the placenta.  I consulted with the doctor who commented that my HCG levels were quite high but that could be because of the lost twin, as could the bleeding.  I left feeling a bit more confident.  Honestly I wasn't overly struck by the possible loss of a twin.  I still had one baby, at least for now.  The bleeding stopped around 8 weeks.  Things seemed to be going well but I was still full of doubt and terrible constant morning sickness.

At 12 weeks I went for my Triple Screen/NT ultrasound.  I was so sure that the baby would be dead, as the last 4 of my babies had been by this time.  Two of them had been diagnosed at this test.  I waited with my breath held, trying not to cry.  But the baby was there, wiggling away.  The ultrasound test showed a healthy baby.  They couldn't give me the test results of the blood work because the computers were down but they didn't see a reason to worry.  The next day we received the call.

I said that I wasn't really worried about the blood test results.  The woman on the other end said they weren't good.  I began to shake, trying to control the fear.  I was told I had a 1:2 chance of having a baby with Down Syndrome, 1:45 for Trisomy 18 and 1:20 for Trisomy 13.  I was devastated.  How could this have happened?  I was given a choice to go for amnio.  I refused it and went to speak to my husband.  I couldn't chance an amnio killing a perfectly healthy baby.  I just couldn't lose another baby.  There were many reasons my blood results could be off - the possible lost twin, having a girl.  I clung to these possibilities.

We did our reading and decided that since amnio can only give a "yes" or "no" answer, it wasn't worth it. It could not determine whether there were any physical defects. We would wait until the 18 week ultrasound to determine if there were any real physical issues that we would be dealing with.  The baby came through the ultrasound with flying colours.  Also, we were told that the baby was a girl.  My wished for and wanted baby girl!

I continued with the pregnancy completely content with my decision.  I read up on Down Syndrome which I saw as the most likely issue, if there was one, due to the lack of obvious physical issues that commonly accompany the other trisomies.  The thought of raising a child with DS was scary but there was also a 50% chance that she wouldn't have it.  We hung onto that possibility.

At 28 weeks I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes.  High blood pressure had been diagnosed back at 12 weeks.  I had to attend the GD clinic and within 2 weeks of that I was on insulin.  I started requiring biophysical profiles - ultrasounds every 2 weeks with blood pressure checks.  Still my baby kept going strong.  Even then I was so sure something would go wrong.  I don't think I ever really believed she would be born.  I was told due to my complications there would be no way I would be going to a full 40 weeks.  The major concern (other than my blood pressure) was having a baby that was too big to deliver.  She was also transverse throughout most of the pregnancy.  If she didn't turn, I was looking at a C-section.

Finally on January 11, only weeks before my due date, my husband and I agreed on a name.  He came up with Ashley.  I didn't want Ashley - too common for my special girl.  I looked the name up on the Internet to see if there was an uncommon form of the name and found Ashlyn.  In Irish Ashlyn meant vision or dream.  She was my dream and I thought it suited her.  I spoke to my husband and he agreed.  Ashlyn Elizabeth she would be.