"I was 39 Weeks Pregnant When My Daughter Stopped Moving."
Mother of Esther:
Friday June 5th, 2020, I found out I was pregnant for the 5th time.
With two babies on earth and two miscarried babies in heaven at the time, I was definitely worried about this little one. But as time went on, she kept growing, and I kept throwing up, which for me is always a sign of a healthy pregnancy.
My two living children were both boys and since my husband is from a family of boys I just figured our family would be the same. To my surprise, I found out at our 20-week anatomy scan that we were expecting a girl. I literally cried tears of disbelief and joy. I could not wait to meet my baby girl! The pregnancy went on and little girl grew and kicked me like crazy. I could tell she was feisty and would fit right in with her brothers.
February 8th, 2021: At 39 weeks and 2 days, I went into labor in the early hours of the morning.
Nothing seemed wrong, I could feel my baby girl moving. After a couple of hours we decided to make our way to the hospital. We got there and went up to labor and delivery, where they prepared to put the contraction monitors on my belly.
Nothing seemed wrong... until everything was wrong.
After a few minutes of fiddling with the monitors, the nurses went to go get the doctor. I didn’t think anything of it, until they brought in the ultrasound machine.
The doctor ran the wand over my belly.
I could see my baby.
She wasn’t moving.
Why wasn’t she moving?
After a moment, I broke the silence.
“Is my baby okay?”
The doctor sighed. “No, she’s not. I’m so sorry.”
I remember my husband running to hold me tight. The doctor instructing the nurses to remove my mask so I could breathe. The screaming. My screaming. The rest is all blurred together. Calling my mom, who rushed to the hospital to be with us. My doctor drawing 16 vials of blood to try and figure out what happened. The contractions. The delivery.
My beautiful, perfect baby girl, Esther Sue Evers, was born at 12:16pm, about 5 hours after arriving to the hospital. She was 6 pounds 14 ounces and 20 inches long.
I kept praying she would wake up but she never did.
This was a year and a half ago now, and some days still feel as emotionally raw as the day my sweet girl went to heaven. Though losing her did shake my faith, I ultimately don’t think I could make it through without it. I hold on to the hope that one day, I will see her again and I will get to spend the rest of eternity with her, and this encourages me to be a better person.
It is through her that I have also met some amazing people who have brought me closer to my faith.
The thing that brings me the most healing is incorporating her into family traditions. I often bring her brothers to the cemetery to have “Breakfast with Esther” on Wednesday mornings, and her picture is near our dining room table so she can still be present for family meals. I, also, have donated and hosted small fundraisers in her honor to organizations that help families who have experienced similar loss.
I honor my daughter by talking about her as I do my living children, and I have taught them to never be afraid to talk about her as well. She lived, just as they do, and because of her we love like we never thought we could.
This blog was written by Cecilia Evers in Saint Louis, Missouri. Cecilia has been married to her husband, Nicholas, for seven years. Together they have six children - three on earth and three in heaven. Their living children are Gabriel, Samuel, and Silas; and they have Esther who is in heaven with their other two miscarried babies.
Read Mother of Wilde's other stories of loss here. If you are interested in sharing your story of pregnancy or infant loss, you can submit your story for our blog here.