I went to bed one night November 17, 2005 at 34 weeks pregnant with a little daughter. I also have another daughter, who at the time was 8 years old. Nursery ready, clothes bought & hung, diapers stocked, name painted on the tree outside…Sarah. That next is when everything changed for me at a morning routine doctor’s appointment. I went in, they took my weight & urine, doctor measured my tummy and out came her Doppler device. Except she couldn’t find a heartbeat. She said my “little one” must be turned over. She said “let’s go next door and get it on the ultrasound machine” – no problem. A tech walked in, rubbed the jelly, turned and looked at my doctor, who looked at my mother – in turn everyone looking at me. I started to hear words and then all the sound left the room. I only saw their mouths move and no sound coming out. This continued through to the trip to the hospital and another ultrasound until I heard the words we are checking you in now for delivery”. Then I knew I had to tell my other daughter the news. Part of me was in reality for one daughter’s sake and the other part of me was in the deepest part of hope, prayer and denial of anything anyone could say that my daughter was just GONE like that. They were ALL wrong. I will come back tomorrow, deliver her and she will be fine.

After telling my daughter about her sister, she said that she should have prayed for her sister to be okay. That broke my heart and it broke my heart so much that she lost her sister that she had waited for always. 13 hours of delivery and they handed me my beautiful daughter. All fingers, toes…everything….even her eyes are cracked open, brown. Then I crouched over to kiss her. My two places of thought came crashing together and I let out a sound that I have never heard before or again. I could feel it coming out from so deep within me. My daughter had died within 12 hours of the doctors appointment it is figured. The umbilical cord was twisted like an old phone cord used to look. Not quite 6 years later….I don’t feel that hard physical hurting pain that I had when I first lost my daughter – that subsided in time. I feel a hollow ache in my heart, a hole. Not the kind that you feel with anything else that “heals” after time – it is a permanent hole that I can feel. I thank God for my other daughter, who is now 14. She is my miracle child. I had 3 miscarriages before her – all at about 3 months. Um, I think of my angel every day when I get up first thought and got to sleep last thought. I wonder what she would look like today and what she would like doing. I wonder how my other daughter would be now had she had her sister in her life. I know I am, and will never be, the “person” I was before my Sweet Sarah came into my life.


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