Kellen

Today, October 15th, is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Today we remember all the babies whose lives were too short. One out of four women have lost a baby and I am one of them. Here's my story.

  After years of expensive, painful procedures I finally became pregnant via third-party reproduction in September 2011. That in itself was quite an accomplishment as fertility treatment is a grueling experience in the best of circumstances, but I was in medical school and living 5 hours away from my husband and fertility clinic. After the pregnancy was confirmed, my reproductive endocrinologist wanted me to have my hcG levels checked to ensure the pregnancy was healthy. I was three weeks into an ED rotation at the time and stopped by the lab to have my blood drawn. I explained to the attending that I was working with that day that I was pregnant and anxiously awaiting the test results. She offered to look them up for me. She did, and she said, "Oh, well that's not good." I looked at the screen and saw that my hcG levels were too low and knew that my baby had died. The attending then nonchalantly told me to go see a patient and walked away. I stood there for a minute, trying to pull myself together and then ran for the bathroom were I completely fell apart. After a few minutes, I was able to walk out of the bathroom and I stopped a nurse and asked her to tell the attending that I had to go home. When I got home, I called my regional dean and told her what had happened. She told me to take two weeks off and she would take care of the rotation. I don't remember much after that. I was in my bedroom and it was dark and I thought I was dying. My husband wouldn't come get me, but his cousin and my mom came and picked me up later that night. I remember walking into McDonald's in my pajamas and not being able to comprehend what was going on around me. I really don't remember much about the next week. I was back at my home in Virginia, but I don't think I got out of bed. At one point my doctor asked me to go to the ED to be evaluated for an ectopic pregnancy. I was cramping badly and was given Dilaudid. I drifted off into ecstasy and was able to rest for the first time. After about a week and a half I started actually miscarrying and the numbness wore off. I was in physical as well as emotional pain. I had no desire to continue living. I spent a weekend with my friend Laura, my brother and his girlfriend and felt a little better after that and I returned to West Virginia to start my OB/GYN rotation.
  I found out a few months later that my preceptor for the ED rotation failed me for walking out of the rotation even though he had told me to my face that he understood what had happened and that he would pass me. Had I developed pancreatitis or something like that, I don't think he would have been able to get away with failing me. But, at the time, I received no support from the school. The failure stood. Eventually, I repeated the rotation and the two grades were averaged. I really feel like it kept me from getting into an Emergency Medicine residency. That worked out okay, but I believe that I was discriminated against.
  By January, my marriage that had been worn thin by physical separation and infertility had completely disintegrated and my husband had filed for divorce. Those were dark days for me and I didn't know if I would be able to make it through them or not. I was in the worst depression of my life. I don't know how I continued with my rotations, but I never missed a day. I went through the motions of living, but I was broken. I was living five hours away from my family and had no friends or support system there.
  I didn't know how to mourn for my lost child. I felt that he was a boy and I named him Kellen, a name I had never even considered but had come to me. I felt so guilty for not being a good enough mother to keep him alive and I apologized to him over and over again. I can't explain what it was like to know that you held life inside of you and to feel it disappear.
  Losing Kellen prepared me for Denali. When she was diagnosed with anencephaly my heart broke, but it broke along already established fault lines. The grief that descended felt like a familiar coat wrapping around me. And I know that next year I will have a second candle to light for my little girl.
  I invite everyone to join in the International Wave of Light this evening at 7pm local time. If we all light a candle we can create a continuous wave of light around the entire world to honor our babies who have gone too soon!