As days passed by, I eventually became a week late. I repeatedly told myself I was not pregnant. I transformed into a complete nut the week before my confirmation at the doctors visit. My browsing history was full of pregnancy and ovulation sites! My nerves were shot, reloaded, and shot again.
The doctor confirmed I was pregnant, six weeks , if I recall correctly. It was a good thing I was sitting down because I felt like fainting. I told my husband when he came home that night, he was in shock as well. We were both scared straight as we were not in the best shape, financially. I forced positive thoughts and told myself we would be fine.
Weeks turned into months and eventually I had reached the Second Trimester! The First Trimester was not cake by no means, my body refused food. The sickness subsided after the 12th week and I was so happy! I woke up on Friday morning to blood in my undies and mild cramping. I had phoned the doctor and he stated that it was normal to spot and due to the cervix preparing for delivery.
I continued to spot and cramp the entire weekend so I went to see my OBGYN Monday morning. The babies heart beat was 154, “completely normal”, the doctor said to me. I felt a sense of peace but a sense of dread at the same time. Call it mothers intuition, but I knew something wasn’t right. The next morning I awoke around 5am and poured my morning cup of coffee as usual. I sat back down on the couch for a minute to watch the news and my husband was getting ready to leave for work.
I stood up to go to the bathroom and I felt a “pop”, then a warm gush trickle down my leg. I looked at my husband frantically and said, “Oh my God, I think my water broke!” Adam, my husband, looked at me as if I were crazy and I know exactly why. I was only 15 weeks, 6 days pregnant and the rupturing of membranes does not occur until delivery, at least that’s how it’s supposed to go. My husband insisted he had to go or he would be late for work, I was livid with him.
I thought to myself, how dare he leave me in this time of need? Why in the hell is he not placing his wife and unborn child above all other priorities? Family is supposed to come first, right? I brushed the anger of my shoulder and immediately phoned the doctor on call. Luckily, it was my OBGYN that I spoke with and he suggested I come in at 9am when the office opened. I don’t think he believed me, as if I were overreacting or it could have been the fact that PROM ( premature rupture of membranes) is uncommon during the Second Trimester.
According to the specialists at UCDMC, only a small percentage of pregnancies end in second trimester miscarriages, I am talking 2 to 3 percent small. Anyways, I did not make it to the doctor at 9am that day due because I delivered my baby in the bathroom of my home. It was an hour after I lost my fluid and I felt pain begin to radiate through my ‘lady parts’. I went to the bathroom thinking maybe I had to pee, possible UTI. As I pushed a little to pee I felt something start to squirm out of me, I was terrified to look down.
When I built up the courage to, I couldn’t even process what I was seeing. A head about the size of my index and middle finger in width, little eyes, ears, and nose. I called my mother immediately in panic, “Mom please help, the baby is falling out of me, please help me!” She works at one of the local hospitals, night shift, and had an hour left to go. She did not hesitate one bit, she left immediately to be by my side.
I continued to pass the rest of my baby, meantime my other two children were wide awake watching Spongebob. Eli, my oldest, came to the door several times curious as to why I hadn’t come out of the bathroom. I told him to watch tv and to get him and his little brother a snack from the kitchen. I played it off like I had an enormous belly ache from dinner the night before so I wouldn’t terrify him. My mother finally arrived and the ambulance about 20 minutes after she had.
At that point the cord was still attached, I sat there gazing upon this child, my child. He was completely formed, all body parts in tact. I didn’t need an ultrasound to tell me the sex, you could clearly see he was a boy. I lost,what would have been, my third son. I was taken to the hospital where I there, passed the placenta.
I was able to hold him in my arms, the nurse was kind enough to swaddle him in a yellow crocheted baby blanket. He fit perfectly in my hand and he had what appeared to be a smile on his face. He just looked so peaceful and I was anything but at peace, I was in pieces instead. My heart was ripped out and torn into a million shreds of devastation. My mother and father purchused the casket, which was the size of a shoe box, maybe smaller. My grandmother owns a few grave plots where her mother and father are buried, so we had a plot given to us.
We were so grateful to have been able to give him a proper burial ,as oppose to tagging him as ‘medical waste’ and deposing his body. The day I laid JonLuke Sawyer to rest, was the absolute worst. It’s hard letting go of something you don’t understand. I was never given a reason as to why I lost JonLuke, the doctor couldn’t find one at least. He said the baby and I were seemingly healthy and that if I would like to conceive again I could do so. I definitely did not want to try again after going through what I did.
It’s been over a year now and not a day passes I don’t think about that little guy. I wonder what color his hair would have been, his eyes , his complexion, and sweet personality. JonLuke may have been laid to rest, but he is alive and with me everyday. There will always be a place in my heart for you, sweet child. In spirit you live, walking amongst me everyday. Although I can not lay my eyes upon you or place my arms around you, I feel your presence. You will forever live within me, a piece of my heart will forever be yours.
In Loving Memory: JonLuke Sawyer McComas, May 19th, 2015