Molly Christine

In January of 2012, Brendon and I learned that we were expecting our second child.  We were thrilled months later to learn that she was a girl.  I had dreamed of raising a girl, but after we had Cole, I just assumed I would live in a house full of boys forever.  It felt somehow magical to be expecting a girl.

30 weeks pregnant

Around 35 weeks pregnant, my doctor noticed that I was measuring a bit small for the baby's gestational age.  I had an ultrasound at 36 weeks to measure growth, and then an extremely detailed ultrasound at 37 weeks.  Both showed the baby was a little small, but growing fine.  The 37 week ultrasound showed that the placenta was functioning properly.  I was told to relax and try to enjoy the remainder of my pregnancy.

The next two and a half weeks were uneventful.  I started having Braxton Hicks contractions.  We watched a lot of political debates.  Cole and I went to the pool and parks and the zoo.  the baby was moving a lot.  Until she wasn't.  At 39 weeks and 6 days gestation, I noticed our daughter hadn't moved in a while.  After several phone calls to different nurses, I was advised to go to the hospital and get checked.  I was told that everything was probably fine.  But it wasn't.  During a horribly quiet ultrasound, I discovered that our baby's heart was no longer beating.  Through tears, I called Brendon, and he rushed to the hospital.  After painful discussions with the doctor that included the word "autopsy," we left the hospital, intending to come back the next day.  Plans changed when I had a panic attack later that evening.  The rest of the day is detailed from my perspective here and from Brendon's perspective here.  On the evening of September 9, 2012, our daughter Molly Christine silently entered the world.

We were given no distinct reason for Molly's death.  One doctor believed it was due to a blood clot in the placenta or umbilical cord, although nothing significant was found.  Two other doctors we spoke with gave no explanation at all.  This was both frustrating and hopeful.  It would have been nice to be able to "blame" something, but it also meant that there was no reason not for us to try to expand our family once again when we were ready.

Molly has changed our lives.  Losing her was a nightmare.  My worst fear realized.  But so much that came after was a miracle.  We were touched by so much kindness from family, friends, and neighbors.  Brendon, Cole, and I became closer, and Brendon and I got to witness Cole form a relationship with a sister he cannot see.  There is always sadness when we think of Molly, but over time, I have also been able to find joy, peace, and hope in her short life.  She is forever my first daughter, my beautiful baby girl who teaches me about the never-ending, boundless capabilities of love.  This blog is dedicated to her, telling the story of how we started to heal after losing her and how she changed us for the better.