~ Deafening Silence ~~
I was then transferred to a larger hospital about an hours drive through the city where a room in the delivery ward was available. My Mother followed close behind the whole way and we were even spotted zooming down the highway by Aaron's mother and my Aunt. Who commented that she stoped to watch the ambulance and then saw a car very similar to my Mother's following in close pursuit behind! Again more questions and examinations while another midwife checked my baby's heartbeat. This time it was harder to find but was still beating strong. It was then that the Doctor at this hospital asked us to make the hardest decision of our lives. She too had fully examined me and told us me that she could feel my baby's hand above his head and that it would quite likely damage his arm when he was delivered due to this position, I was also already very dilated and well into Labor. She explained the ramifications of having such a premature baby, of the struggles that at 24 weeks gestation a baby would have now and possibly for life. She asked us if we wanted the team who specialise in this area to be at my delivery to assist our baby on arrival and keep him alive if it was possible. She was very sensitive and caring and would continue to support us throughout the next 12 hours. Over the next few hours we talked with my Mother who had been with us since my transfer and a close friend of the family who had come to offer support. I was kept on the drip and given gas for the pains. The Doctor finally needed our decision at about 9 p.m. as the team would need to be notified. It was with tears in our eyes and the biggest pain in my chest that I can ever remember that we gave the Doctor our answer. We told her we were prepared for our baby to be born naturally and accepted that he would quite possibly die within moments of birth, if he made it at all. After what felt like the longest night of my life, with Aaron right by my side the whole time, I survived listening to the lady next door go through a 5 hour, very loud labour. All the time I was thinking that her baby was probably being born at full term and would be healthy and mine wasn't. I knew that my baby was slowly dying within me. The rest of the night and early hours of the morning I spent having massages and taking breaths of gas whenever I felt necessary for the contractions. At about 6 am with sun beginning to rise throughout the buildings I felt the need to get up and use the bathroom. I woke my Mother who was sleeping in the chair next to me and she pushed me down the hall in a wheel chair. From being vertical for the first time in hours my baby's entry into the world was put into top gear and within minutes of returning to my room I was having more frequent contractions. The midwife asked if I wanted an epidural and I responded very firmly that I had already told them I didn't want to feel the pain as I was already in enough. The next two hours went like two minutes and at 8.25 am after only four big pushes our son came silently into the world. The silence was deafening as it told me my son had been born still. The midwife asked if I wanted to see him and I all I could do was shake my head and quiver through my tears 'not straight away'. The nurse told me to give one last big push to see if I could deliver the placenta naturally and I didn't have any problem with that. The midwife took our son away to clean him up, weigh and measure him. Aaron held me and didn't let go for what felt like forever. He kept telling me it wasn't my fault, that it was going to be OK and that we would try again as soon as I wanted to. It didn't take me much longer to decide that I did want to see my son and I wanted to hold him. The nurse brought him in and they had dressed him in a tiny blue dress with white dots and had a tiny white bonnet on his head and tiny white booties on his feet. He was wrapped in a baby blanket and was so tiny it engulfed him. For the first time I held my baby boy and together with Aaron we took in every feature of his tiny body. For just a moment in time I really felt like a real family. Sitting up holding our baby in my arms with Aaron's arms around us both. It was at this time that Aaron asked me what we were going to name our baby. I looked deeply into his eye's searching for what to say, but before I could whisper a word he blurted out "Aiden, with George as a middle name after your Grandfather ... ok??" We had talked about names a few times in the last few weeks and Aiden was the name Aaron had marked in the many naming books we had. All I could do was nod my head as I looked down at Aiden lying in my arms. He was so silent and still, this was not how it was supposed to be. He was to me and forever will be my perfect baby. Aside from a badly swollen right arm from his position during delivery he looked beautiful and was just like his father in every way. Aiden weighed 660 grams/22 oz and was 34cm/13 inches. His hands were perfect and his feet were already large like his Dad's measuring over 1.5 inches. I looked at every feature of his body, trying to take it all in and to lock the memories safely away in my heart. Aaron didn't want to hold him but my mother did and as she rocked him and walked around the room talking to him she said she felt him smiling down on us. I vividly remember her looking to Fran who had also stayed close all night, they smiled at each other and Mum said "He say's he'll be back again, it's just the time wasn't right" and Fran nodded. For a moment I felt a small amount of peace, that at least Aiden had not suffered. No reason was ever given for his death, other than they think he died of hypoxia, a lack of oxygen during labour. Even after our permission for an autopsy, the results of which we didn't receive for over 6 weeks we still have no answers. An autopsy report is such a cold and technical document I only recommend it to those who will not mistake the terms for worse than they can sound to the layman. We will never know why. Which has been one of the hardest things of all to accept, whether Aiden's death could have been avoided. I was moved to a private room in the maternity ward, which to me felt like punishment. All around me I could hear baby's crying and cooing. New Mother's were nursing their newborns or bathing them for the first time. Precious moments that I would never experience with my baby. One nurse was very insensitive, she inspired me to design a wooden teardrop, to donate to the hospital where Aiden was born. She barged into my room and without even looking at me loudly asked "Have we finished feeding bub in here yet? Ready to go back to the nursery?" My Husband gave her with the worst look I had seen him make in the past 24 hours, it was the look of death. I think she sensed it too as she just backed out the door without saying another word. I read weeks after about a hospital that put a heart on the door of any mother who's baby was stillborn or died shortly after birth. Thus informing anyone entering the room that they need to be sensitive to the new families situation. I wanted so much to stop other bereaved parents having to endure the same experience. The whole thing upset me terribly and I started to feel even more cheated and started blaming myself and doubting my own body. I was given a sedative to help me sleep that night and the following morning I awoke in even more pain. My milk had come in and I was very swollen, this was so for some weeks after. I had to wear nursing bra's and maternity pads, another of natures cruel tricks. The hospital social worker came to our room and talked to us for an hour or so, giving us some brochures and contact numbers for a support group. I asked to see Aiden one last time before I discharged myself from hospital and enrolled in the early discharge program. A midwife would then visit me at home for the next week to monitor my condition. They had offered us a camera to take photographs of Aiden and I regret not doing this, having photo's taken with me and Aaron. Thankfully the nurses took a few photo's for us and although they are not the best I am so very glad that I have them. I carry one in my wallet and have one displayed with all our other family photo's. The day after my son Aiden was born still I returned home and refused to talk to anyone other than Aaron or my Mother for over two weeks. I was filled to the breaking point with pain and there was no room for anything or anyone else. Aiden consumed my thoughts and I was filled with anger, I wanted to know the impossible question all bereaved parents ask ....... WHY??
