This is our daughter. I want people to see how absolutely perfect she was. This beautiful child is mine and will always be mine. I carried her for 37 weeks and 5 days. I'm sharing this so I can feel. So I can know this is real. I really went through this and so have so many other families before me.
On the evening of May 20th I realized I hadn't felt her move hardly at all. I had Brandon call the doctors to see what to do. They said if I was really concerned I could come in for an ultrasound. I thought about it for awhile and decided that if in the morning I didn't feel her I would go in (seeing as she was most active in the morning). The next morning I woke up and felt nothing. I told Brandon I was going in and to stay home with Elliott because he was still sleeping. On May 21st I went in and laid down on the table as the nurses were trying to find her heartbeat with the doppler. I could see the concern on their faces as they tried to stay calm for me. I was getting worried at that point but was reassuring myself that once the doctor came in with the ultrasound machine that he would find signs of life. Once the doctor was there he started pointing out all her organs for me to see. Then he got to her heart, paused for a moment, turned to me and said "I don't know how to say this..." at that point everything in me went numb. I knew she was gone. I broke. I told him just to cut me open. Unfortunately that's not how it works.
I had the nurse call Brandon for me. Then they wheeled me into a private room. I called Brandon again. He knew something was wrong the second he answered. Through his cries he asked "Abby, what's wrong?! What's happening?!" I couldn't get any words out. All I said was "just get here". When he arrived I broke down in his arms. "She's gone" is all I could say.
They started the pitocin around 10:30am and drew at least 18 vials of blood from me. My family started arriving - their faces covered in anguish. With everyone bawling and trembling, all I heard from my sister was "it's not fair".
At 8:24pm on May 21st 2017, our baby was born, silent. No screams. No cries. Nothing. I remember the doctor saying "that's what happened!" The cord had gotten wrapped so tightly around her ankle it cut off her blood supply. They said she most likely passed way (peacefully) in between the night of May 19th (my birthday) and May 20th. I was praying to God that she would just wake up, but she never did.
My whole family was there with me and Brandon. We passed her around so everyone got a chance to say hello and goodbye for the first and last time.
This is our life. This really happened to us. My whole pregnancy was perfect up until that point. We are left with an empty nursery, clothes she will never wear, hospital bag still packed, and empty hearts.
Our hearts will always have a Fiona sized hole in them. They will never heal. But through this I hope to help other moms that will have to go through this traumatizing event. I wish I could say it will never happen again, but reality is, it will. My heart breaks for me and all the others out there with babies we never got to bring home. We will get through the darkness. We will be strong. We will not carry anger in our hearts because of this, but joy that we had the chance to carry these beautiful children.
You never knew the evil of this world, baby girl. And for that, I am grateful. You will be the first one I see when I enter in the gates of heaven. Until then I will always remember you like this. Peaceful and perfect.
IN HONOR AND CELEBRATION OF FIONA, DONATIONS CAN BE MADE HERE. ON BEHALF OF THE SIMMERMAN FAMILY, THANK YOU FOR YOUR GIFT.