Jeanna

I know I mentioned that we had a stillborn daughter in September of 2005. She's been on my mind a lot lately for some reason; maybe getting it out will put whatever's bothering me to rest.

I'm not sure if it's that my girlfriend Jenna's daughter, who was born about six months after Jeanna, just graduated kindergarten, that had something to do with it. I don't think so, although it did remind me that Jeanna would have also finished kindergarten this spring.

Maybe it's that my kids are getting a little older and I'm wondering how she would have fit in. What place she would have held in our family. Would she have been the quiet one? The drama queen? The funny one? I have no idea.

She was my easiest pregnancy. I relaxed and enjoyed it, didn't have a lot of stress during that pregnancy until the last month, and it was fun. My pregnancy with Julianne was traumatic because I was still mourning the loss of my older daughter to my ex-husband. I wasn't ready to have another girl, I wanted the girl I already had, and there was a lot of emotional stress during that pregnancy.

Julianne was three when I was pregnant with Jeanna, which was the perfect age. She loved feeling the baby move, loved talking to the baby, loved talking about the baby, loved seeing and playing with all the baby stuff. She was ready to be the big sister, and we talked a lot about what it would be like for her to have a baby sister.

The last month of my pregnancy was really difficult. We were supposed to move to Nebraska, then we weren't. We gave notice on our townhouse, so we had no where to live. We ended up staying with friends in Bend, which was about a 2-1/2 hour drive (I think) from home, and my doctor. I made the drive every week, and every week I wished he would just let me have that baby and be done. But I kept focused on the fact that it wasn't good for her to be delivered early, especially just for my convenience.

We got a house and had to wait 10 days until we could move in, so we went ahead and rented a hotel room for the last bit, because the driving was killing me. Jeanna was scheduled for c-section on September 26, and we were moving in on October 1. Fun, right? But I didn't care, I was so ready to move and be done.

Early the morning of the 23rd, Erik came home from work and I was awake, because I could sense that something was wrong. All I had to drink was Coke, so I drank some of that and couldn't get her to move. Erik asked if I wanted to go to the hospital then, but I wasn't ready. Somehow I knew the news wouldn't be good and I wasn't ready to hear it.

The next morning I called my doctor's office and they had me come in to be checked. First they did a non-stress test, where they hook you up to a monitor that listens to the baby's heartbeat. Nothing. Then they did an ultrasound in the office. Nothing. She said she wanted me to go to the hospital for an ultrasound there, because they have newer, better equipment that will give them a better picture. Got there, did the ultrasound, heard the bad news. Nothing.

I remember Erik crying, but I was calm. I already knew and wanted to know what would happen next. We decided to induce labor and I was taken to labor and delivery. I got an epidural with that labor, which helped me relax and sleep, which was a relief. Everything between that and the delivery is a blur.

I do remember holding her. How perfect she looked. She was beautiful. She looked like she was sleeping, like at any moment she would open her eyes and look at me. It was so unfair. The cord was around her neck four times, a simple accident that, had she been delivered a little earlier, would have been prevented.

I've thought about that so many times since that day. How if only I'd pressed for an earlier c-section. It was such a stressful month, driving back and forth, and I'm sure my doctor would have found a reason to do it. But because it was safer for her to stay in I didn't push. I laugh at that: safer. How clearly I can see in hindsight which was the safer choice.

My next two pregnancies were considered high risk and were closely monitored. I was very anxious during both, and both were preterm babies. I know it was due to my stress. I was scared it would happen again. Now I knew: Anything could happen, you can't know for sure.

I miss that little girl, the one I only had for nine months. I know I'm going to see her again, and that helps ease the pain. But my heart still has a hole where she belongs. My family has a gap and I see it often. And I feel echoes of her in my mind occasionally, in the silences between my kids' laughter.

What keeps me going, though, is knowing that one day I'll be able to know the answer to the basic question that I have always wondered: What color were her eyes?