The Answer?

Most people are wondering what happened and why. I am one of them. For the last five weeks and one day I have been asking the same questions. Today I got an answer.

The answer is: "We really don't know what happened." ....................

My pregnancy was normal, bordering on boring. I was growing well, Amelia was growing well. Yes, I admit to a short bout of depression in the early months, but that wasn't the cause of her death and was easily sorted out with one counselling session. Turned out I wasn't a fan of gaining weight and not being able to snowboard... who knew?!  Yes, I was relaxed about my healthy pregnancy, walked a lot, ate well, prepared for pain-free hypnobirthing (by the way, that worked). No, I never was a crazy partier, didn't do any stupid drugs, wasn't much of a drinker... My midwife was very determined to make sure I understand and accept that it was nothing that I did. Nothing that my body did. Then who did it?

What did the autopsy report say? Gosh, even the words "autopsy report" make me want to scream! FUCK this. Pardon my language.

So, back to the report. It tells me that it identified her body as "Astashenkava, NB girl Mar 25/11." (insert another scream...)
It tells me that she was 38 weeks old. That my pregnancy was normal. Then it describes how we noticed her lack of movement, how I got induced, how I didn't have a fever and was healthy when I gave birth, everything was normal. What is Normal? Really, everything was just "normal?" It then reminds me that I signed the autopsy consent, yes, I remember that...

Amelia had long feet, her foot length measured "more consistent with gestational age of 40-41 weeks." She was also tall, again more like a baby at 40-41 weeks. The rest of her body, her chest, waist, and head measured right at 38-39 weeks. My midwife told me that it means she was supposed to be tall and slender... Great, my perfect little girl was perfect. Ok.

So that's it, she was supposed to be tall. I've always wanted to be tall. My mom told me she always hoped I'd be tall like my dad, but I'm not. Amelia was supposed to be tall, like her dad, like my dad. But she won't get a chance...

Some might wonder, why am I feeling like this? Why am I crying and hurting like this? Because... Just because. I understand how most are too scared to even try to imagine where I am. I didn't choose to be here, in fact, I didn't know "here" existed. The reason I'm sharing this is so that other parents who come "here" know that they are not alone. Sadly, we are not alone.