Sad news to share of a little angel

It's been a long while since I've posted anything to my blog. I suffered nearly four months with sinus and respiratory infection, which developed into pneumonia, starting the week before Christmas. Repeatedly my own family doctor (who has three children but a nanny) and other clinic docs refused to prescribe antibiotic because I was pregnant.

I grew sicker and sicker, coughing to the point my sides burned with pain and of course trying to maintain some sense of normal routine for our four children. In March I finally got a lovely older doctor who shook his head I'd been allowed to be sick so long and gave me the prescription. Failing that my midwives, who can't prescribe meds in this case, were going to accompany me to ER to consult an OB/gyn. In two weeks I was better. Low iron levels, but we brought them up.

I thought I'd had been through the worst of things with this drawn-out illness during my pregnancy. I was wrong:

Dear friends and family:

We have sad news to share. As most of you know we were waiting eagerly to welcome another little one into our family. Unfortunately, our baby George Patrick Andrew Corr was stillborn at 2:04 p.m. on Tuesday, May 19, 2009. He was a beautiful handsome boy and looked just like his big brothers and sister. He was 54 centimetres long and weighed in at 7 lbs 13 ounces.

My labour had started overnight and I was up in the wee hours, quietly busy as the labour pains grew in strength. I felt our wee boy move around and so we know he was still alive in my womb at this time. By 7 a.m. I woke Philip and told him things were underway and he began to get older children ready for school and the younger two to go play at a friend’s house for the day. By 8 a.m. my rushes of contractions were building, but still somewhat erratic, coming between 10 and 15 minutes apart.

Some people have expressed concern that we lost the baby because we chose midwives for our delivery, but I want to emphasize that this is simply not the case. I paged my midwife, who was over to check me by 8:30 a.m. Had I been with the maternity clinic doctors, they wouldn’t have wanted to hear from me until my contractions were regular and 5-8 minutes apart.

When the midwife arrived she got set to examine me. She couldn’t find a heartbeat and I sensed her deep concern. She said it might be that her equipment was not working right, but at the same time said firmly that we were heading straight to the hospital and not to take time to grab much.

With sinking hearts, Philip and I got into the van. My husband held my hand and encouraged me to think positively as we sped the few blocks to Lions Gate Hospital, but I couldn’t get baby to move in my belly and grew more and more afraid. We got to the labour and delivery unit where my midwife and the nurses tried to get a heartbeat with the fetal monitor as we waited and waited and waited for the ultrasound technician and OB/Gyn to arrive. By shortly after 9 a.m. we had confirmed the worst: Our baby had died. Our priest is away on vacation, but Fr. Comey of Holy Trinity came to pray with us briefly as I laboured. It was a great comfort to me to think of our little one at peace in heaven, one of the innocents returning to God.

I cannot thank my husband, my midwives Aleka and Gill, and Pamela the labour nurse enough for their kind and compassionate care as I had to face the toughest, most heart-breaking work in my entire life. Their love and encouragement got me through this terribly sad birth experience. It was a beautiful, gentle labour and birth and would have been perfect if only our little George had lived.

The OB/Gyn ascertained that our baby boy for some unknown reason haemorrhaged, losing at least half his blood into me. There is no sign of the origin of the haemorrhage on his little body or the umbilical cord and the placenta likewise appeared normal. It is one of those mystifying, horrible, awful unforeseen occurrences. We think that it may have been the result of cord compression, but we'll never know for sure in this lifetime. Nothing indicated this would happen and in hindsight there is nothing I would have done differently.

Some of you know that we intended to surprise my father if baby was a boy by naming him Timothy. Because baby was stillborn we decided instead to name him for saints. Such a big handsome lad would have been a force with his big brothers, and given our heritage it seemed fitting to name him for the saints of England, Ireland, and Scotland: George Patrick Andrew. And it is especially fitting because George was Philip’s Granddad Macdonald’s name as well as my Grandpa Murphy’s middle name and that of my great-grandfather and other men in the family.

I feel blessed that I got to carry this little soul for nine months and that his siblings got a chance to love and talk to him during the pregnancy. I wish things had turned out differently, but at least we had him for the little while we did.

Plans are underway for the Mass to take place at some time next week. We will post plans when they are finalized.

Thank you to everyone for your love, support, and prayers at this difficult time. Your kindness brings to reality the verse from Matthew 5:5: Blessed are they who mourn: for they shall be comforted.

We can’t thank you enough.

Love,

Karen and Philip, Gerard, Daniel, Morris, and Máire Rose