A Mother’s Love Never Dies: Losing My Baby

A Mother’s Love Never Dies: Losing My Baby

Tara Carpenter, NC, CPES.

This post contains photos that may disturb some people.

On July 27th 2006, I lost a baby girl so tiny she fit in the palm of my hand; her little legs dangling over, swinging each time I moved which I tried not to do in order to freeze time. She was 15 weeks grown inside of me with delicate features that were near complete in-formation. She only needed more time to gain weight yet already she had the beginnings of eyelashes, tiny paper-thin fingernails, a cleft in her chin like her daddy.

She fluttered inside me for the very first time the day before she died. The severe morning sickness I had experienced throughout that pregnancy had lifted a week prior and finally I felt better to be the pregnant mom I was. I felt excited to be on the other hand of what was/is an extreme condition. I was on the up and up!! My body looked pregnant and FINALLY I was feeling more normal self and very very hungry 🙂 I was 100% ready to welcome this next phase of pregnancy.

One minute there, one minute gone ….

The doctors said she died from a group A strep infection that traveled to my uterus and caused her little body to overheat; her brain to hemorrhage. Only took a second and she was gone. I was scared to lose her as I felt near delirious with the infection and was in and out of awareness. I do remember the nurse listening to her heartbeat and saying to us “your baby is fine, she has a steady heartbeat”. I smiled and fell back on the pillow. The next minute my fever had spiked more and her heart stopped. Within hours my body birthed her, me hanging on in shock.

Within 2 hours of giving birth, my fever spiked higher from what turned out to be a systemic blood infection. I lost consciousness and received 2 rounds of blood transfusions. When I woke, I was surrounded by a circle of doctors and specialists and nurses full of concern as I had nearly died from sepsis. They were glad I was alive. I felt my belly, where my baby had been. I felt dead inside. Where once had been such life of movement and hope I now was bleeding empty, empty, empty. A week later I went home with a prescription for 3 months worth of antibiotics the size of something to give a horse and an endless ache in my body.

She was 15 weeks old, weighed 2 1/2 ounces, and 6 inches long. I held her, kissing her entirety, wanting to swallow her whole, take her inside my belly where she belonged. Everything about the moment was wrong. This should NOT be happening. This was not the plan. Yet, there she was to see and touch and kiss. We had an hour together before the nurse wrapped her in cloth and took her away to put her little footprints on paper and her in a satin blue box for us to take home. Me in a metal bed so cold.

Maybe the infection came from an undercooked burger I ate earlier that day; made with poor quality meat, still some red in the middle. As a kid, my dad and I would sneak raw hamburger meat rolled up into balls behind my mother’s back while she was shaping the meat into patties. I loved them sprinkled with salt ‘n pepper. In pregnancy this is a big-no, especially if the meat is not from pasture-fed animals. I know this. We were out somewhere with meat that was certainly not of such good quality. That is the hardest part, that I knew yet thought would be fine. I was simply starving and did not want to wait for the burger to be cooked a couple minutes later. That evening, I woke in sweat with incredible stomach pains.

My father and I, a few weeks after losing the baby, Cambridge, MA.

Maybe I became infected because my immune system was run down because of a rare condition, hyperemesis gravidarum, I get when pregnant. Had my health been stronger maybe I could have gotten away with eating the burger. I don’t know. The doctors never gave a straight answer, only said “best to let all that go”. Maybe they don’t want me to feel guilty. I do. All I know is eating that undercooked burger is all I can think of that could have caused me a sepsis infection. The doctors did say my weakened dehydrated, malnourished state likely allowed the strep infection to take hold and cause the baby to overheat and die.

I had the HG condition from the time I was one week pregnant, vomiting 24/7, unable to drink more than a teaspoon of liquid at once. I’d go days without eating, because it took that long to think of what to eat. If I couldn’t imagine and taste it to the fullest, then I couldn’t stomach it. I was put on a drug for patients undergoing chemotherapy, an immuno-suppressant that suppressed my immune system and made me out of sorts and barely made a dent in how bad I felt.

Please help a mother if she has hyperemesis gravidarum.

I lost my baby one week after HG lifted, 7 days to the day. Like fog, one day the horrible unrelenting nausea disappeared. I was elated and yet still vulnerable after weeks of undernourishment. This is when I ate that burger; still physically exhausted with a weak immune system, yet happy to feel well again. I probably couldn’t have fought off a fly, let alone the blood infection I got. Once the cramps, vomiting, and fever hit there was no stopping and within a matter of hours, my baby was gone.

The weeks after were a blur. I wavered between wanting to be with my baby and wanting to spend time with my oldest boy who was too young to register such depth of emotion. Is anyone? My body needed to integrate 1 heartbeat where there’d once been 2. This was an emotionally trying process and I was empty, still felt pregnant, sad for a long time. Meanwhile there was so much life going on around me! Both my sisters had little babies and so this kept my hands and heart full and buoyant.

My grandfather and father holding my niece and nephew, September 2006.

A mother’s grief turns inside out. I didn’t want to shower, move, eat, do anything that supported the very body that failed my baby. When I told my 4 year old our baby wasn’t in my tummy anymore, he said “did she die because I ate so much pizza while pregnant?”, I smiled and hugged him. She would be 18 years old, my baby girl. I miss her and apologize every time I feel her fill my belly with her presence. A mother’s love never dies.

Sunflower, sunflower, yellow, and tall …. you were the prettiest sunflower of all.

Now You Are Still: Losing My Baby Girl

Seeding a “C-Section” Born Baby

Eating to Prevent GBS+ Infection

May all bellies be happy!