It was the morning of October 28, 2019, and I was getting ready to finally meet my little girl, Emma. Getting ready to go in for my scheduled C-section. I arrived at the hospital and waited for an available room. I was anxious, scared and excited, for that amazing moment I get to see my beautiful daughter.
I finally got a room, and the nurses were having a hard time finding Emma's heart beat. I immediately felt something was wrong. The nurses went to grab the doctor and an ultrasound machine. And it was at that moment when my life came crumbling down. I was told the words no one should ever hear, "I'm sorry, there is no heart beat". I was in shock. I didn't know how to feel, or how to react. I stared at them blankly as they showed me on the ultrasound, how my little ones heart wasn't flickering on the screen. I broke down. This wasn't happening. This couldn't happen to me. But it did. I waited for the nurse to wheel me into the operating room, where I would deliver my stillborn daughter at 40 weeks.
I couldn't stop crying. I was yelling, crying out for my baby. Once Emma was born, I refused to look at her. I could not bare to look at my deceased baby. But when I finally looked over at my husband holding her, I could not help but to think she was the most beautiful little thing I had ever seen. She looked just like my husband, from the dirty blonde hair, to the angry looking eyebrows. She was perfect.
I was wheeled back into the recovering room with my daughter in my arms. I held her for what felt like forever. Until I could not look at her anymore. The longer I held her, the more my heart broke. Once our family came to see this precious baby girl, I asked the nurse to take her away. I no longer wanted to see her in that form. My husband and I soon had to pick out a mortuary and cemetery that very same day. If my day wasn't already hard enough, choosing where she would be buried was at the top of that list. Before Emma was picked up by the mortician, I was able to get hand and feet molds made and get a matching bracelet.
Later that night, my newborn daughter was taken to the morgue. I could not stop feeling like something was missing, as if something was ripped apart from me. I remember crying myself to sleep, only to wake up with my hands on my empty belly. Once my realization came back to me, I just wanted to die. I was nothing without my little girl.
We were later told the cause of Emma's death. I developed gestational diabetes towards the end of pregnancy that caused Emma's heart to grow too big too fast, causing it to stop. I had passed my glucose test earlier in my pregnancy, so finding out that was the cause of death was just so confusing. Emma ended up weighing 11 pounds 9 ounces.
Going home to an empty house was painful. Waking up in the middle of the night to a full milk supply felt like I was stabbed in the heart. To be reminded I had this to give to my baby who was no longer here. The sleepless nights. The wondering if my baby was being taken care of before burial. But I knew that once she was in her final resting place, I would feel a sense of peace. And that's exactly what happened.
On November 5, 2019, we finally put our baby girl to rest. I no longer wanted to feel the pain I had been feeling, but I was also dreading the day to be over because I felt as if once the funeral was over, then that was the end of that. And I didn't want to say goodbye. Emma had a beautiful headstone made along with a gorgeous white casket with flowers along the top. It was perfect, just as she was.
I will always carry my child in my heart, and I will always love her. Emma will be remembered, today, tomorrow, always.
Facebook: Grace Montoya Paz-Denney