Mason Benjamin was born still on May 12, 2002. My pregnancy had been near perfect. I never suffered from morning sickness, I was relatively comfortable right up until the end, and my energy levels were good throughout my 8 ½ months of pregnancy. It wasn’t until the day before he was born that we realized something was very wrong.
My husband and I tried to conceive for several years before finding success, and I had two first-trimester miscarriages before we got pregnant with Mason. We saw several doctors in hopes they could help with our fertility issues, but no one seemed to have an explanation as to why we were having such a hard time.
When we got the positive pregnancy test with Mason, we were cautiously optimistic. After experiencing two miscarriages, I didn’t want to get my hopes up too high. But once we crossed over into the second trimester, I began to feel a bit more secure in the pregnancy.
Late in the second trimester I began to feel Mason move. It was the most incredible feeling. He was a mover! Not a day went by in which I didn’t feel him moving around in there. So when I noticed a decrease in his activity at 39 weeks, I became concerned. I tried all the usual things to get him to move: drink something sugary, lie on my back, eat something. But still no movement. Though I was concerned, I remember thinking, “He’s fine. I’m being paranoid.” My past experiences seemed reason enough to worry. To be on the safe side, my husband and I decided to go in to the hospital.
The nurses took my vitals and the doctor came in with a doppler. Time seemed to stand still as he searched for a heartbeat in my belly. We heard nothing. He assured us that sometimes the baby is hiding, or in a weird position, etc., so not to worry, we’d do an ultrasound.
The ultrasound confirmed our worst fears: Our baby boy had passed away in the womb.
The flood of emotions that came over me is hard to describe. I was sad, angry and confused. Why had this happened? How could this happen? No one had a good explanation. There was no obvious cause for Mason’s death.
At 39 weeks, there was no option other than to deliver Mason. Knowing I’d have to experience labor and delivery and not have my baby afterward was almost more than I could take.
My birth plan was to deliver naturally. I didn’t want any pain meds, and I hoped to avoid a c-section if possible. But under these new circumstances, I hoped they’d offer one. In hindsight, I could’ve asked. It felt as though this was all just happening to me. I wasn’t myself and I couldn’t voice my wants and needs at this time. I couldn’t even tell my husband what I was thinking. Looking back, I think I must’ve been in shock.
I was induced that evening and labor began the following morning. The pain got very real, very quickly, and I screamed for an epidural. Nobody questioned me. I think the emotional pain I was going through was more than I could handle. The physical pain was just not tolerable.
I got the epidural and looked to my doctor for advice on when to push. When the time came, it only took a few pushes before Mason was here. His lifeless body came out gray and floppy. All I could do was cry hysterically. My heart ached so badly knowing I’d never hear his voice. I’d never feel that first latch, or watch him grow into a little boy. I was sad for my loss, but also for his. He was never given a chance to live this life. This innocent baby wasn’t given the life he deserved, the life my husband and I wanted to give him.
They examined him briefly and to my own surprise, I still wanted to experience skin to skin with my baby. I didn’t think I’d even want to see him, but he was still my baby, and I am still his mother.
I’ll never forget the moments I had with him. He is in my heart forever.
What I went through with Mason is something I don’t think I’ll ever fully recover from. It’s the kind of trauma that just doesn’t subside. But what I can say for sure is that my story is not entirely unique. When I confided in friends and family about what had happened, I learned about so many other women I know who had experienced pregnancy loss. It’s important to acknowledge and honor those women and their experiences that forever changed who they are and the paths of their lives. They are mothers without babies. That’s why I’m sharing my story in honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.