It's that time again.
The time where seasons
remind me that it's okay to let go.
However, it's hard because
I was never ready for her to leave.
October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month.
This month I'm asking for you to help educate others
and support those who have experienced this loss.
On the 15th of October, we do a "wave of light" and you can
join from wherever you are. (More details will be posted closer to the day.)
For now, please help me in honoring my daughter, Dakota by sharing her story with your friends and family. Here's a little bit about her book.
Title: Saying Goodbye Without Saying Hello
Author: RaeBeth McGee-Buda
Genre: Non-Fiction
Audience: Adult
Formats: Paperback, Kindle, and Nook
Publisher: Self-Published; Amazon Digital Services, Inc.
Cover By: Marcy Rachel Designs
Editor: Lee Ryder
Pages: 230
ISBN-10: 1492110884
ASIN: B00FWTKRTI
Date Published: October 15, 2013
The journey of pregnancy brings hope, joy, and love for the expecting mother. The hope of giving birth to a new life. The joy of feeling this new life growing inside of her. The love that starts with a test that doesn’t ever end. Dreams for the unborn child flood the new mother’s mind, as well as those around her. Each step of the pregnancy is a cherished moment. The anticipation of meeting her cherished baby builds from the very first month and ends after birth.
This is the story of one mother and how a few words changed her life forever. How a piece of her faded when she heard these words: “There’s no heartbeat.” When RaeBeth Buda laid in the hospital in labor, she and her husband heard those dreaded words.
What happens when all of those dreams are shattered in a moment’s notice? How does one cope with the loss of their child? This is the story of their journey and of the devastating grief of the loss of her daughter, Dakota Emily Buda.
Excerpt
Around 1:00 on the morning of the 27th, a person from the OB floor called my name. I motioned him over. He grabbed the wheelchair and pushed me through the halls. Mom and Greg followed closely behind. When we finally got to the sixth floor, they took me into triage room one.
“Hello, what brings you in?” The woman asked as she came in.
“I think we’re about to have a baby,” I answered her with a smile.
Why else would we be there? It’s not everyday people like to hang out in the OB part of the hospital for no reason at all.
“Okay, you’ll need to strip from your waist down. I’ll need a sample of your urine here in this cup and put the rest in the plastic bin. I’ll be back in a few minutes to hook you up.” She instructed as she pointed to the small toilet in the room.
It was a good thing I had to go. I looked over at my mom and Greg as I said, “Hope I can do this without peeing all over the place.” Of course, I tried to make both laughs and succeeded. As I pulled down my panties, I noticed a small amount of blood. My mom and Greg noticed too.
“The bloody show. You’re definitely not going anywhere any time soon.” My mom said with a smile. “We’re gonna have a baby!” She chanted excitedly.
The only thing I could come back with was, “Or she’s in distress.”
“Don’t think like that. All will be fine. Have some faith.” My mom said to calm me down and comfort me.
Once I was ready to get on to the bed, I slowly made my way with Greg’s help. I laid back and the contractions were much stronger. Around one in the morning, the nurse finally came back in, shut the door, and walk to the left side of the bed. She grabbed a strap and placed it on my belly. “This will monitor the contractions, which I see you’re definitely having.”
Once the strap was in place, she fiddled with the machine for a few minutes and said, “Let’s find that heartbeat.”
She grabbed the gel, put a good bit on my belly, and grabbed the Doppler. Once she spread out the gel, she started searching for Dakota’s heartbeat. I couldn’t wait to hear it. It was only a matter of seconds before I’d hear it.
She kept moving around on my belly. I pointed to the right side of my belly button and said, “This is usually where my doctor found her heartbeat without a problem.” She moved the device there. We still didn’t hear anything.
After another squirt of gel on my belly, she searched again. My heart raced and panic overtook me. Something was wrong. I could feel it. I glanced at my mom and Greg. They were worried too. I saw Greg swallow hard and turned my attention back to the nurse.
“Sometimes it takes time to find the heartbeat. The baby could be lying with her back towards yours, which makes it hard for the machine to pick it up. I’m going to get an ultrasound machine. That will definitely pick it up.” The nurse said, as she placed the Doppler back and walked out of the room.
My mom saw worry and panic cross my face. She stood up from her chair and walked over to me. “Let’s pray,” she said. My mom, Greg, and I said a quick prayer while we waited on the nurse. Within a few minutes, the door opened and the nurse pushed in an ultrasound machine. She plugged it in and turned it on.
As she stood to the right of me, Greg and my mom were on my left. My mom held my leg and Greg took a hold of my hand. I eagerly wanted the nurse to put a fire under her ass and hurry up. It seemed like everyone and everything started moving in slow motion. The nurse began looking at Dakota through the ultrasound.
At first, I couldn’t tell what was on the screen. What I noticed was that she was not trying to hear her heart but to see it. That was when it came into view. My daughter’s heart was not beating. I rubbed my eyes, thinking they were playing a trick on me. The nurse stood up and walked out of the room without saying a word.
Moments later, three other medical personnel walked into the room. They whispered in their small circle where we couldn’t hear and continued looking at the screen. The room was quiet. I heard the ultrasound machine running and could have heard a pin drop. I knew my baby was gone by the look on their faces, but no one said anything.
“Ummm, hello? Someone tell me what’s going on?” I yelled. I was tired of it. I knew what this meant, but I wanted them to say it. It was not final until someone had said it.
The doctor closest to me said, “I’m sorry. She’s gone.”
