I was 18 and naive. Thought I knew what being in love was all about. My senior year of high school...and a statistic. The year was 1999 and I was 6 months pregnant.
Other than gaining weight a little too quickly everything was going perfectly. I was excited and nervous. I have always wanted to be a mom, maybe not at 18, but I was getting what i had dreamed...a baby.
It's March and everyone is excited for prom and working on last minute studying, assignments and all the fun we can cram in for the past couple of months before graduation. I'd been dating Ruben for a little more than a year and he's as supportive as any high school boy with a pregnant girlfriend. Saturday the 6th was like any other. I had been hanging out at Ruben's since I wasn't working that day. His brother Wally had asked for a ride to a friends and since I was the only one with a license and a car I said yes. Rubens mom had asked us not to go out, but we were kids and said we'd be fine...we were after all just dropping Wally off, grabbing a pizza and coming "right back" to the apartment.
Everything went just like that too, but on our way back to the apartment we got caught at a red light. We were heading East on Main St and were stopped at Main and Lindsey. I was driving in the outside lane, closest to the sidewalk, we'd come to a full stop...we were laughing about some mundane thing and I glanced at the radio considering whether to change the station since a commercial had just come on. (Its amazing all the details you remember when something that changes your life forever happens.) Glancing up to check whether the light was close to changing is when I noticed the headlights in my rear view mirror...coming towards us way too fast. I had just enough time to brace myself using the steering wheel when he hit us.
The impact was so hard that my glasses flew off my face, though thanks to my seat belt I remained in my seat. It took only a second for the adrenaline to kick into high gear and I asked Ruben if he were okay, he was and I told him to check on the other driver. I found my glasses and as I stepped out of the car another driver asked if they should call 911. I said, "I'm pregnant, yes, please call them." Meanwhile the guy who hit us was attempting to restart his car and Ruben thankfully took his keys. I walked back and asked if he was alright...he looked up at me, had a gash on his forehead and said, "Well...NO." in a tone that told me the man simply thought I was in his way and it was my fault he was being held up from getting to wherever he was going. I remember thinking..."You asshole"...but I went back to my car, yanked up the back door and rummaged around for my first aid kit. Once I found some gauze I handed it to Ruben, told him to take it to the guy for his head and took a seat to wait for the paramedics. Ruben came and sat beside me, realizing suddenly that he probably had whiplash as a headache was setting in.
The usual organized chaos ensued as police and the paramedics showed up and began taking statements from everyone. I was fine and was able to ride to the hospital in one of the passenger seats for some routine monitoring, just to make sure the baby was also alright...Ruben had to go on a gurney since there was a chance of a neck injury. Once at the hospital we were sent our separate ways...he was taken for x-rays and an MRI or CT and I was sent to the maternity triage for monitoring. Four long hours later they released us both with pain relievers for when the stiffness set in and a doctors note to miss at least two days of school to rest. The next few days passed uneventful other than learning that the driver of the other car had been drunk, arrested, bailed out by a friend and had been driving on a suspended license...plus his girlfriend had lied saying she owned the car to have it insured...what a mess!
The morning of March 11, 1999 I woke up as usual, but when I sat up I had a bad shooting pain in my lower right pelvis area...bad enough it forced me to lay right back down. But it didn't last and actually subsided so quickly I just thought, hmm that was weird, and proceeded to get up and get ready for school as usual. Throughout the day I felt like I had a stomach bug coming on but it would only last a little while and then it too would subside and I figured I was just getting sick. After school I did the usual errands, took Ruben to work, ran home to use the bathroom (lost my plug but with it being my first pregnancy and still so far off from time I didn't realize that was what it was), got myself ready and went to work. Really wasn't feeling well after a couple hours and ended up leaving. Took Ruben home and when we stopped to check his mail I had such a severe pain in my back I remember placing both my feet on the brake and applying pressure as hard as I could to counter the pain...told Ruben I was going to ask my mom about it, dropped him off and went home myself.
As soon as I saw my mom I told her all about the oddities of the day and she said, "It's probably nothing, but go call Dr. Morrison just to be safe." I said okay and called the answering service, who took all the info, called the doc and when they called me back said, "Dr. Morrison is at the hospital doing a delivery and he wants to see you, NOW." I called Ruben, told him what was going on and that he didn't need to come but he was welcome to. Jumped in the car with my mom and to the hospital we went. I was there maybe 20 minutes when the doc came in to check on me and scold me for not calling him sooner. After doing an internal exam he about-faced and all of a sudden there were nurses coming in...starting IV's, having me roll onto my left side, elevating my feet, etc...I'm looking at them like "come on guys tell me what's going on" but one of the nurses asked another that very question and she responded with, "I don't know, he walked out and started barking orders, it's best to just do what he says." -That was comforting...NOT!
A few short minutes later Dr. Morrison came back in with my mom and filled me in.
I had dilated to seven centimeters...given the fact that I was only 26 1/2 weeks into my pregnancy I was fully dilated. They had started me on everything from sugar water to magnesium in an effort to slow down labor and keep me pregnant as long as possible. They had also arranged for me to be transported via helicopter to Good Samaritan which at the time had the best neonatal intensive care unit in the state. No one could travel with me since there is very limited space in the aircraft. My mom said they'd meet me there and off her and Ruben went. I was worried but I was staying positive and level headed as I tend to do in most traumatic and stressful situations. Within five minutes of receiving all of the information I was transported to the roof. The nurses told me it was going to be loud and they put the sheet over my face as they loaded me in. I remember, vaguely, the faces of the few who transported me...but I remember very clearly how nice they were to me...caring and compassionate and they set me at ease as we traveled. (The two who had been in back with me actually came to see me in the hospital after a couple of days...that doesn't happen very often.)
When we reached Good Sam they didn't re-sheet my face and I remember seeing the city lights as I was whisked inside. I went to triage and they hooked me up to a fetal monitor. My mom showed up shortly thereafter with Ruben and we prepared to wait. It didn't take long. Within the hour the doc came in to say that my contractions weren't slowing...I could've told him that as my mom was coaching me on breathing through each one...and the baby was showing signs of distress as with each contraction it's heart rate would fall. And although the heart rate was returning to baseline after the contraction they needed to preform a cesarean section to get it out...the baby was sitting in breech position so any chance of a natural delivery was nonexistent. My heart fell...Ruben went to change into scrubs and my dad showed up...I looked at my parents with tears in my eyes and said, "This can't be happening...it's too soon!" I'm sure my fear was all over my face, on the inside I was on the verge of hysterics. My mom on one side, my dad on the other,,,she told me I would be fine, this needed to happen...God was I terrified.
They take us into the OR...Ruben waits outside while they prep me...I roll on my side, arch my back like a cat (not easy with a big belly) and they numb me up...then comes the spinal tap, um, ow. I say "Ouch"...the anesthesiologist asks me if it's pain or pressure. I mull it over a minute trying to process that there is a difference between pain and pressure when it's being applied to ones spinal cord. Finally I answer, hesitantly, pressure. I'm told that I'm gonna feel some pressure...and then someone comes around to hold my hand so I can squeeze through the "pressure"...once that's done I'm rolled onto my back and Ruben joins me. It takes less than five minutes for the numbness to over take my body and just another three to deliver my baby boy, Angel Xavier Reyes 1lb 15oz just 12 inches in length born at 12:17am on March 12, 1999. They take him into the NICU and I tell Ruben to go with him. As the docs are stitching me back up I lose my dinner...gross. They take me into recovery and I remember nothing...nothing but vague images of people coming in and out, some nurses some family...until they finally move me to my room and on the way they wheel me past the NICU so I can see the baby. I couldn't really sit up so I just see this little body under a heater...that's it just a body that's so tiny I can't believe its really real.
The next few days were spent getting my feet back, being wheeled to and from the NICU, a slew of visitors, passing time, meeting with doctors, learning what may be in store for us and only being able to hold my Angel's teeny hand. The first day was touch and go...the second things were looking up...then on the third day we were told his blood gases didn't look so hot, that there may be more going wrong than right. They called in a pediatric neurologist...we waited some more, had the baby baptized and a blessing from my step-dads bishop and then Ruben and I have a serious conversation. I tell him that if things come back bad then I'm taking Angel off the machines and putting it in God's hands. He says I can't do that...I tell him I'm Angel's mom and yes we can do just that...why make the poor thing suffer, better to let go and let God then to prolong the inevitable. Just after 5am on the 16th the neurologist calls us to the NICU. He confirms that the blood gases are bad...then says that Angel is hemorrhaging...inside as well as outside his brain. There's nothing more that can be done for him. I ask what his chances are...slim to zero. They tell us that "IF" he makes it through the bleeding then he will most likely have severe cerebral-palsy as well as other handicaps. I ask for a few hours so I can have family come say goodbye. They tell us to take all the time we need.
The phone calls I had to make after that were the hardest I've ever had to make. All day we were ushering people in and out of the NICU. At 6pm I asked everyone to leave. Ruben's mom put up a bit of a fight..."No, you can't do this alone." I told her, "We brought him into the world just the two of us...we have to let him go just the two of us." Ruben walked her out and then we went to hold Angel before they removed all of the iv's and took him off the ventilator. I talked to him, sang to him, was amazed by him,,,they moved us into a family sitting room once all the machines were off and it took less than an hour for his heart to stop beating. I was holding him. Amazing what you remember.
My mom came back to pick us up after we spent time preparing Angel for the mortuary to pick him up, Ruben didn't handle the loss very well so it was up to me to make all the final arrangements. My mom helped me tremendously through all of it including getting him dressed before he was laid in his casket...we were able to view him and since the casket was so big, even though it was the smallest they make, we packed it full of animals and toys and a music box my grandma had given him (I wish I would've at least written down what it played). The funeral was small but good...many graces were poured out on all of us...though I didn't realize it at the time.
Ruben and I lasted another year or so as a couple. Not a day goes by that I don't think of my Angel baby...he was blessed enough to never lay eyes on the world around him and he never uttered a sound...most of all he saved me from taking my present children for granted...a parent should never have to bury a child, but when it does happen, everything changes. It took me a month before I was able to leave my room, a year before I could express my anger, and even now 12 years later I still cry when I think of this loss but I also smile and look forward to coming face to face with my baby someday. Only God knows how that will play out...I'm just thankful for having held this little boy at all.
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