Here we go again...

The time had come when I caught the baby fever and was ready for another adventure. This time it only took me 3 months to conceive, but oh, what a long three months those were. It seemed like everyone around me was getting pregnant and I braced myself for yet another long, difficult journey. Three days after my 34th birthday I took a pregnancy test - and it was positive. I broke down crying, taking pictures of my pee stick and all the while thinking this was the best birthday present ever. I patiently waited until the holidays to tell everyone that Kayla would soon be a big sister.

This pregnancy was so different than my first. I barely gained weight, my face broke out, my hormones turned me into a crazy woman. But I took it all in stride, I loved being pregnant and all that came with it. Although I do feel guilty now that I didn't get to enjoy it as much as I did when I was pregnant with Kayla. First of all, Kayla got a real bad case of the flu between Christmas and New Years. Fever, nonstop vomiting, dehydration, etc. On top of constantly being tired, my body was wiped out and I started to get sick. Two weeks after everyone getting better, I noticed Kayla drinking a juice box. Kayla does not like juice, I don't even know how long it had been sitting in the cupboard. Within 15 minutes she was drinking a second. I swear I must have incredible mother's intuition because instantly I knew something was wrong. I grabbed my glucometer and checked her sugar and nearly passed out - 472. My heart dropped. I had contracted type 1 diabetes at the age of 14 - the doctors believe I had caught a certain strain of virus which shut down my pancreas. I was not overweight, very active in sports, no history of any diabetes in my family - yet there I was giving myself multiple injections everyday and pricking my finger 8x's a day. Kayla had no symptons that I had (extreme thirst, constant urination, being excessively tired and losing 15 lbs from dehydration). Yet I knew. We rushed her to Children's Hospital of Philadelphia were they formally diagnosed her as having juvenile diabetes. Can you understand as a mother what that does to you? I felt such extreme guilt because somehow I know I did this to her. The doctors said there was no chance that she would get it, yet how is it possible that she caught some strange strain of virus that shut down her pancreas too? Everyone kept telling me that God chose Kayla because I was such a good example on how to manage your diabetes and there are so many parents out there that don't understand or help take care of their children's diabetes. I understood that, but I didn't want to see Kayla go through what I knew was yet to come. She has been a champ, I must admit. Checks her own blood now, doesn't run from her injections. It's just so very sad for a mother to see their child have to go through this. Unfortunately, I was so occupied trying to control Kayla, that I didn't get to enjoy my pregnancy more...

Everything was going great. I had my last u/s appointment May 28th where the high risk doctor told me everything was perfect, plenty of fluid, nothing leaking, all was great. The next day I went for me tri-weekly NST and the doctor was amazed at how active Madison was - especially after Kayla layed against my belly and sang "Twinkle Twinkle" to baby sister. Madison loved to hear Kayla sing that song. It breaks my heart to hear her sing that song anymore...

Saturday the 30th we spent the day at the neighborhood yard sale to support autism. It's unbelievable the amount of comments that were made that day about my jumping shirt - that's how strong her little kicks were! That next morning at 1:30am I jumped up out of bed. Again, my mother's intuition kicked in and I instantly felt like something wasn't right. Madison would always wake me up around 1:30am, had been for over 3 months now. Yet I felt nothing. I drank warm milk, ate a banana, ate a cookie...everything I knew to do to get some movement and there was nothing. I woke up Erik, wrapped Kayla in a blanket and raced off to the hospital. The nurses kept trying to reassure me that this happens all the time, not to worry.

There was a faint heartbeat which I swore was Madison's since it sounded so calm and mine felt like it was beating a mile a minute. But when they pulled up Madison on the screen, my heart broke. There was no movement. Just stillness. The doctor turned to me and said I'm sorry, but there's no heartbeat. Never in a million worlds did I think anything like this could ever happen to me. Why God, Why? Did you not think I was a good enough mother? What could I have possibly done to deserve this?

They moved me into a private room, where I opted to start the induction immediately. I had been pretty strong (outwards) up to this point, but when my Mom came into the room, I lost it. Oh how I longed to be a little child again when everything seemed to be fine in my mother's arms. How those arms always seemed to make everything better, but I knew this time they wouldn't. They held so much comfort and love, but she couldn't be able to bring back Madison, no matter how much I prayed.

13 hours later, at 9:31pm on May 31st, 2009, Madison Hope Soucy was born silently sleeping. I can clearly remember how quiet the room was as they gently layed her on my chest. This should have been such a happy time, instead I was holding my quiet little angel. It kills me to think that I'll never know what color her eyes were, I'll never see her smile or hear her laugh and giggle.

That final day at the hospital, saying goodbye to Madison for the final time, was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. The nurse kept asking if she should come back and I'd tell her no, but couldn't hand Madison back to her. I kept the blanket and cap that she had been wrapped up in, and the hospital was great. They provided me with a Memory Box which contained her hand and footprints, a lock of her hair, and many pictures of her. They also gave us a camera to take our own pictures, but I have not yet been strong enough to get them developed.

I went through the guilt that is associated with such a loss, I blamed myself, I blamed the doctors, I blamed Erik, anyone I could possibly think of. What did I do? What did I eat? What did I touch? We had an autopsy done, but it came back inconclusive. Her organs were normal, wasn't genetic, wasn't viral. Everything was normal with the placenta and the cord. I still have problems moving on because I feel like I have no closure. And I don't think I ever will...