Parenting
Why I Cherish the Painful Memories of My Preterm Babies
by Emma Lark
Updated: Aug. 3, 2023
Originally Published: July 3, 2023
June 23, 2013, is a date forever engraved in my heart. How can a single day encompass both the utmost joy and profound sorrow? It was the day my triplets were welcomed into this world, yet it was also the day I lost my first child.
After years of struggling with infertility, my husband and I were overjoyed to learn we were expecting triplets. But the weeks leading to my delivery were a rollercoaster, filled with uncertainty as I spent nearly two months on bed rest. Eventually, my body gave in, and I went into labor more than 17 weeks early.
The weight of that day is heavy; just recalling it makes my body tremble and my heart ache. I remember lying in the hospital, anxiously waiting for hours, questioning whether my babies had any chance of survival. At just 22 weeks, many hospitals don’t consider a baby viable. Would my children even take a breath? It’s an out-of-body experience to know the child you’ve yearned for may not make it. Despite the haze of emotions, the memory of my babies’ births is sharp as ever.
After a grueling 12 hours of labor, my contractions intensified. At 4:48 a.m. on that fateful Sunday, my daughter, Lily, was born. She gave a faint squeak as the doctor passed her to the neonatologist. Before I could comprehend the gravity of the moment, I was hit with the news I’d dreaded: her lungs weren’t strong enough to survive. My husband and I cradled our fragile daughter, overwhelmed with both love and heartbreak. Although she weighed only a pound, every feature was perfect—tiny button nose, delicate hands and feet, and while her eyes were still shut, we knew they were beautiful. We held Lily as we grieved, the doctors officially declaring her time of death nearly two hours later.
In a twist of fate, my two surviving triplets, James and Ava, held on for an impressive 17 hours longer, a critical time that proved life-saving. To everyone’s surprise, both arrived with lungs strong enough to face that first night.
In the weeks that followed their births, I found myself replaying every moment of that day in my mind. Each Sunday, I would lie awake, reminiscing about the labor and the births of my children. As tears fell, I would anxiously watch the clock, waiting for the exact moment the doctors declared Lily’s time of death. Those memories were almost too painful to bear until August 16, 2013, when we faced loss once more—this time, it was our son, James.
Doctors gently removed his tubes and handed him to me. Surrounded by family, I read him stories, comforting him as any mother would. We talked about his siblings and the world beyond the hospital walls, even discussing college football, as we watched our little blonde boy respond with faint smiles. Nearly four hours later, at 6:12 p.m., the doctors recorded James’s time of death.
Three years have passed since my triplets entered this world, yet the memories remain vivid. Why do I cling to these heart-wrenching moments? Because they are the only memories I have. For those who have endured the unimaginable pain of child loss, these moments are what we hold onto. We are left with tangible mementos: footprints, tiny hats, and hospital bracelets. But it’s the memories and images of our children that will linger with us for a lifetime.
As the years go by, I often worry that my memories may fade. I pray these vivid moments will stay with me forever. While the early days were filled with grief, today, my recollections bring a smile through the tears. I cherish the thought of my two beautiful angels. Watching Ava thrive, full of life and energy, reminds me that a piece of them lives on within her. Reflecting on the day my triplets were born, I am reminded of the miracle of life. All three of my babies existed, and that thought fills my heart with pride.
This post originally appeared on Home Insemination Kit. If you’re interested in more information on family planning, check out our post on intracervical insemination. For those looking for reliable resources on home insemination, Make A Mom is an authority in this area, and Science Daily offers excellent insights into fertility health.
Summary:
Emma Lark reflects on the bittersweet memories of her triplets’ birth, marked by the loss of her daughter, Lily. Despite profound grief, she cherishes the memories of her children and finds solace in the tangible mementos they left behind. As she navigates life with her surviving daughter, Ava, she holds onto the belief that a part of her lost babies lives on within her.