FAMILIES: BECOMING PART of THEIR STORY

John and Mindy experienced the stillbirth of their first baby at 40 weeks gestation. This is their story, told at a support meeting months later.

They arrived at the hospital early on Monday morning. Contracting since the evening before, they showed up in triage — video camera rolling — ready to greet Matthew, their soon-to-be-born son.

Both were so excited they didn't notice the nurse's difficulty finding the fetal heart rate. After a few tries, the nurse announced she was going to get an ultrasound. They weren't even thinking about anything going wrong. The doctor had had trouble a few times in the office because of Mindy's larger size. When the resident doctor, a person they had never met before, spoke the words "I can't find a heartbeat," Mindy said, "Can't find it? Where did it go?" As soon as she said it, she saw a look of horror on John's face. The doctor continued, "I'm sorry, Mrs. Harris, but your baby has died."

Mindy thought: this isn't possible; the baby was moving just this morning. Besides, she had done everything her doctor asked and read every book on pregnancy. She asked for another doctor. When a second doctor verified the diagnosis, she asked for another ultrasound machine. Not until Mindy's own doctor came did she begin to believe. John sat by the bedside dumbfounded, unable to speak. Mindy thought about crying but couldn't. Rather she felt someone had lifted her up and put her someplace else. She knew she was in the bed and she saw people talking but couldn't hear what they were saying. John experienced the opposite: it was as if the walls of the cubicle closed in, trapping him, forcing him to hear every word. Thoughts of losing his wife as well as his son raced through this mind.

Mindy was quickly moved to a labor room. An IV was started and epidural placed. Staff talked to her about seeing the baby at delivery, but their words were garbled to her. John stood nearby, not sure what to do. When the chaplain suggested he contact family, John mechanically made calls, telling them "there might be something wrong with the baby." He couldn't make the "real words come out."

Matthew was born about 12 hours later. They decided to wait to hold him. Mindy said she was too exhausted from the delivery and John agreed. Looking back, they realize they both were too afraid — afraid of what he would look like, afraid of what his lifeless body would feel like, and, most of all, afraid the pain would be too overwhelming. It was their nurse who helped