This was my husband and my first child. We were ecstatic. We already knew it was a girl because we went to a place that can tell you early. However, we had our 20-week appointment to go to, and that would be confirmation that it was a girl.

August 21, 2019, my husband and I went to the 20-week appointment, very excited. As the nurse took my vitals she reminded me thay today was the anatomy scan and that I would get a picture. As the nurse scanned over my belly, I saw no movement, I saw no heartbeat on the screen where it usually appeared. The nurse very cheerfully said, “I’ll be right back,” placed a towel over my belly and walked out of the room. Her placing the towel over my belly was foreshadowing and I get what was about to happen deep down in my heart, but it was unfathomable at that moment. The nurse walked back in the room, now with the doctor. The doctor said, “Your baby has no heart tones.” Those words still make my blood run cold every time I think about them. “Your baby has no heart tones.” It’s one of the most nightmarish things I’ve ever heard in my life. My husband and I cried and cried. We scheduled an induction through our tears. I hardly remember any of thay part. They showed us a private way to leave the building, which was nice.

Later on we were all gathered at my grandmothers house, mourning a child thay we already loved so much. My mom, my husband’s mom, my grandmother. I called my dad who lived out of town. As we all sat there I realized I had an interview tomorrow for a job that I had been wanting for years. A dream job, I would call it. I had a decision to make. Do I go to this interview? Is it inappropriate to interview with a dead baby inside of me? Am I a bad mom for wanting to still go to the interview? Eventually, I called the doctor’s office and told them of my situation. I had no job at the time, I had lost my previous job. Which made this interview that much more important. The doctor’s office understood and told me to just come check in at the hospital after my interview. I thanked them a million times for how understanding they were. My husband and I went home that night. I showered. I didn’t eat anything. We got in bed early and he held me until I fell asleep.

August 22, 2019, I woke up and dressed in all black. In retrospect, that was like a Freudian slip. Today was the symbolic funeral for my baby. I went to my interview. The interviewer was a lady of known for years and I live in a small town so she already knew what happened. She hugged me, said some encouraging words and we both cried together. She interviewed me. Hugged me and told me she’d be praying for me. Then I left.

I went home, my husband and I hugged our dogs, grabbed our bags, and went to the hospital. We checked in, I changed into a gown, I was induced, and the wait began. I don’t have any children on this earth, but I’d imagine the only thing scarier than having a healthy baby is having a baby that you know already has died. I was terrified. I was in labor for 16 hours. The 16 longest hours of my life to this day. The first feeling of contraction pain I felt, I requested an epidural. I was already in so much emotional pain, I thought “why should I endure any physical pain at all?”. The hospital staff went above and beyond. They were really compassionate and accommodating the entire time.

August 23, 2019 @ 3-something in the morning, I had my baby. One push, maybe 2, is all it took. They wrapped her up and took her away. My mom, my husband’s mom, and my grandmother all came to the hospital at that time. They came to see the baby and check on us. I wanted to see my baby, but couldn’t get up because of the epidural. So they brought her to me. She was really small, wrapped in a cute blanket with a hat on. She had piercing blue eyes like her dad. She was my little angel. That day, we picked out a grave site and grave marker for her. Something no one ever thinks they’ll have to do for their child. Well, this was the ONLY thing I got to do for my child, so I picked the biggest most beautiful grave marker available. It was a heart with a vase attached so we could put flowers in it when we visit her. We didn’t have an official name for her yet so we named her Baby. The grave marker reads “Baby Donahue August 23, 2019”.

August 24, 2019, I check out of the hospital. It was the weirdest feeling. I wanted to go home, but leaving the hospital made all of this real. The hospital provided some kind of comfort for me. Like as long as I was there, nothing could go wrong. We went home and I noticed all the baby stuff I’d bought was put away. Out of sight. I knew my husband must’ve put it all the basement when I fell asleep the night before we went to the hospital. Thay made me cry.

And a lot of things make me cry that didn’t make me cry before our pregnancy loss. “Intrauterine fetal death.” That’s what all my paperwork said. Even though it’s only been about 4 months, I feel like a different person. I’ve grown so much and I see life different in general. I definitely don’t sweat the small things anymore. There’s so much to be happy about and so much to live for. That’s what I’ve learned from all this. I’ve learned some things about my body too that will help me have a healthier pregnancy next time. There were so many trials and lessons packed into this one experience that I feel like it aged me 10 years. But not in a negative way. It’s made me wiser.

Yesterday, December 27, 2019, I paid the remaining balance on my baby’s grave marker. I think that’s why I felt compelled to share my story today. Once it’s in the ground, I can give my baby flowers whenever I want ❤️. That’s a comforting feeling for me.

So whoever is going through a pregnancy/child loss right now, just know you’re going to be okay. You may feel like the devastation is too much and there’s no way you’re going to ever be okay again. But you will. And I’m praying for all mamas out there going through a loss.

And for anyone who read my entire story and made it this far...Yes, I got the job. And I love my job and the people I work with. Going to that interview was such a big decision, and defining moment at the time. I made the right decision and I feel blessed because of it.