The last weeks of pregnancy with Jordan

I felt a huge need to be prepared for Jordan's arrival early. I started by assembling a team. Charles who I adore, is a bit squeamish. I wasn't sure he would be able to stay conscious for labor so I enrolled my close friends, Amber and Melissa to be my substitutes. I called Amber "The First Runner Up in case my labor partner was unable to preform his duties" she preferred the title, "Second in Command" and asked for a whistle. We agreed to the change in title but the whistle was out of the question! She agreed to those terms, though I think she secretly hoped to buy a whistle before I was full term and sneak it in!

A local pregnancy and breastfeeding support group was offering free child birth classes. I very much wanted to attend some sort of class with Charles, but the idea of being in a group of giddy first parents when our circumstances were so different was overwhelming. I called and left a message about our special circumstances and asked if anyone would give us a short class. A wonderful doula who had once lost a newborn to a cord accident offered to do the classes with us privately for free. Amber came with us to the class and we all had a really good time. This is one of the very best memories I have of my pregnancy with Jordan. It seemed almost like a normal pregnancy experience, almost as if things were going to be ok. We all took turns saying the words we knew would make Charles squirm like "episiotomy". We watched the birthing movie and watched Charles turn green, good times, good times!

Another coworker, Deeda told me that she had experience taking photos of very sick, dying or stillborn infants and asked me if I would like her to come to the hospital to photograph Jordan for us. I was glad to have her help because I wasn't sure how Amber and Melissa both in their twenties and without having experienced birth themselves would handle photographing Jordan if he died. Deeda also offered her husband's help to be there for Charles if he needed a male support person. Charles was glad for that offer. All four people on our team worked for Child Protective Services with me and were well acquainted with the hospital proceedures and staff. I felt much better having this team in place.

February 26th, I noticed that Jordan's kicks had slowed a lot. Later in the evening, they seemed to have stopped all together. I tried playing music for him and drinking juice and then soda with caffeine to try and boost his energy, but nothing seemed to work. I went to bed hoping to feel him move as he usually did when I laid down.

Charles took the opportunity of my being out of the room to call the hospital and ask if we should come in. They recommended that we go to the labor and delivery wing immediately. He came in to our room and told me we needed to go to the hospital. I was relieved that he was taking this seriously. We told the boys that we would be out for a couple of hours and drove the quick two miles to the hospital.

That short ride seemed like a lifetime as I realized how unprepared I was for way lay ahead for me. What if Jordan had already died? How could I handle going through labor tonight only to say good bye to my dearly loved son. How long would they allow me to hold him? What if I couldn't handle allowing someone to take him from my arms to the funeral home? So many questions, I hadn't even packed my bag yet, I couldn't possibly be losing him today!

Again I brought Jordan's blankie with me. It seemed to provide a lot of comfort when I was scared. Very cautiously, we told the L&D nurses why we were there. Charles let them know that our care plan was in my chart already and that Jordan had Trisomy 18. Surprisingly enough, they had already read our chart and were completely ready for us.

They had a room all prepared for a non-stress test. They had me change into a gown and strapped the sensors onto my abdomen. After about thirty minutes on the machine the nurse came in and told us that Jordan's heart was looking really good. The monitor was able to pick up on kicks that I wasn't feeling. She had me stay on the monitor for about another hour then announced that we could get dressed and go home.

The ride home brought up even more questions and a 'to do' list a mile long. I needed to find a few outfits for him in case he is born soon. I needed to pack my suitcase. I needed preemie diapers. I needed everyone's phone numbers. I was not even close to being prepared for Jordan's arrival. I had a lot to do and didn't know how long I had to do it in. I knew I needed to get busy.

The next day I packed my suit case and went all over town looking for preemie diapers. I finally found some at Toys R Us. I only bought one bag but hoped I would need more. I looked through the few preemie outfits I had purchased and decided on the few I wanted in his bag and packed that too. I emailed and called all of our close friends and prayer warriors to get phone numbers all lined up. I programmed all of the phone numbers into my husband's cell phone.

My Mother in Law came up for a visit and bought us a car seat in case we were given the gift of bringing Jordan home with us. She also bought us two sweet little Precious Moments dolls. One was dressed as an angel and one as a little boy. They both said the "Now I lay me down to sleep" prayer. I put those with Jordan's things knowing that I would want them with us. At last, I felt like things were coming together. The one major thing I hadn't done yet was to contact the funeral home. This seemed unbearable considering that Jordan was still very much alive. I asked Deeda to do that for me. She gathered wonderful information and even found a funeral home willing to donate much of their services. All of these things were finished on March 8, 2005. I was at a special work related 'day away' when Deeda gave me the information about the funeral home.

March 9, we had an interview scheduled with the local newspaper. We wanted Jordan's story told. We wanted other families faced with Trisomy 18 or any other negative prenatal diagnosis to know that termination was not the only option, even if that is the only option their doctors were willing to give them. The reporter wanted to run more than just a one time story. He wanted to follow us through the remaining eight weeks of our pregnancy to document the process of carrying a very sick baby to term. We were glad that he was willing to carry our message of hope to the public.

Something that sometimes comes back to haunt me on dark quiet nights was one of the things I said to the reporter. I told him, "Today I am 32 weeks pregnant. My doctor wanted me to end my son's life 12 weeks ago. Even if today is my last day with Jordan, I know that I had a miracle. I had 12 more weeks than she offered me. Every kick, every hiccup is a miracle, even if it all ended today." I had no idea that would be my last day pregnant with Jordan. I fully believed I had eight more weeks. Why did I say that to him? I know that those words are true, but sometimes I wonder, if I hadn't said those words would I have been given more time?