over next to her that had a large monitor on it, connected to a keyboard and some other equipment. The ultrasound technician squirted some gel on Annie’s belly and proceeded to slide a thing that looked like a microphone around in circles.
“I’m looking for your baby’s heartbeat right now,” she said, her voice almost a whisper. Their eyes were all transfixed on the screen. Annie and Eric had no idea what they were looking for, but the tech and the doctor seemed to know what they were doing.
There was no movement on the screen. There were no sounds. There was no life, no heartbeat. The baby had died. Their baby had died. There were no words after that. Life as they knew it was over.
The Ritadrine was stopped and the pains of labor began in earnest. They were even more painful because their result was not a vibrant, screaming, healthy infant, but a quiet, still, lifeless one. The pain had no purpose but to cause more pain.
Family and friends gathered at the hospital. It was the last place Annie wanted them to be. The best place they could be was anywhere but near her, but Eric needed them close by, so she did her best to deal with it. They ogled at her self-control and pain tolerance while trying to decide what to order from the restaurant on the corner. Even given the state of shock she was in, their behavior struck Annie as odd. She prayed for strength and grace. She also prayed for it to be over, while wanting it to last forever.
“Annie, it’s time to push.” The nurse had checked her seconds before and she was dilated to ten centimeters. Time to push. This was supposed to be a happy moment or at least a moment of relief. The only thing her mom had ever told her about childbirth, was that ‘it feels so good when they finally say you can push.’
She bore down, just like the nurse had instructed. Because this was happening prematurely, they hadn’t gotten to this stage in the childbirth classes yet. She had no idea what to do, but grasped her knees and pushed hard. Pain seared through her body. It felt as though a thousand bees were stinging her. This was almost worse than the contractions because it was so unexpected. Her mom had been mistaken; this didn’t feel good at all.
“You’re doing great, Annie,” said Dr. Hayes, “just one more push -” Normally he would’ve finished with, “and we’ll have a baby!” But he stopped short of that. Just one more push.
The baby came quickly. It was startling how easily he slipped out into the doctor’s large, outstretched hands. The room was silent and still, just as the birth had been.
“He’s beautiful,” the nurse said as she placed him in Annie’s arms. He was wrapped in a white blanket that had pink and blue stripes on it. His little face was so sweet and peaceful. He looked like he was sleeping.
“He looks perfect,” whispered Eric, as he gently pushed the blanket away from the baby’s chin. “He’s so cute.” His voice was quieter than usual, choked with emotion.
Annie looked down at her peaceful, perfect little boy. The nurse was right – he was beautiful. She tried to keep her emotions at bay, so she could take this moment to memorize everything about him. This would be her only chance and she instinctively knew that she had to make the most of it.
She traced his profile with the index finder of her left hand. He had an abundance of dark hair and his little brow was furrowed as though he was having a serious dream. He had a little rosebud mouth that was just like Eric’s. Closing her eyes for just a moment, she tried to memorize how he felt in her arms. Once they took him away, her arms would be so empty.
“How much does he weigh?” she asked.
The nurse brushed away a tear as she answered: “4 lbs. 10 oz. And he’s nineteen and a half inches long.”
A bag of sugar, thought Annie, he‘s almost as big as a bag of sugar. Out loud she said, with pride in her voice, “He’s not so little.”
“No,” Eric added, “he’s a big boy. He would’ve been a bruiser if he was full term!”
Annie nodded and cradled her son’s head in her hands and gently planted a kiss on his little forehead. She let her lips linger there, and inhaled deeply, as if to breathe in his very essence.
Just then the nurse who had been with them all night asked, “Annie, Eric, would you like me to baptize him?”
They looked at each other for a second and then both nodded their heads in agreement. Their Catholic upbringing kicked into full gear; baptism was important, although Annie knew that he was already in Heaven.
“What are you going to name him?” the nurse asked quietly.
“Dillon Paul,” Annie replied softly.
Eric quickly cleared his throat. “Are you sure we should use our boy name? Maybe we should save it for our next baby.” He said it carefully and quietly. They had a tough time finding and agreeing on the name. It seemed logical and reasonable to save it for another baby.
She looked at him like he’d lost his mind. “But Dillon is his name. We can’t use it for another baby.”
This wasn’t the time to challenge her. When they had another boy, they’d find a different name. She knew that Eric hadn’t been that crazy about the name Dillon anyway – especially the way Annie insisted they spell it.
“Okay, okay. We’ll name him Dillon.” He smiled at Annie and the nurse and then looked at his little boy. Dillon. He did look like a Dillon.
The nurse took the pink and blue striped bundle from Annie’s arms. Her arms were trembling as she held this most precious little person. She’d never had to baptize a stillborn baby before. As reverently and calmly as she could, she made a sign of the cross on the infant’s forehead and said, “Dillon Paul Morgan, I baptize you in the Name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.” She patted his head affectionately as she said the final word and gently gave him back to Annie.
The moment was holy. It was the only word Annie could think of to describe it. She felt so close to God and Dillon at that moment, and wouldn’t have traded it for anything. Anything, except a healthy baby, alive and crying in her arms. Feeling so close to God at that moment, she would’ve been crazy to lie about how she really felt.
Dr. Hayes knocked gently on the door and came in. “How are you two doing?” he asked quietly.
Annie looked at him, tears welling up in her eyes. What could she say? How were they doing? She didn’t pretend to know.
“Are you ready to say good-bye?” he asked, his voice breaking. He had only met Annie and Eric that day, but seemed to feel such a bond, such responsibility for these young parents.
Annie looked down at Dillon tenderly. How could she ever let him go? He’d been her constant companion for the past eight months. He’d been her dream forever. She knew that it was time to say good-bye. Her tiny son was already starting to feel cold when she placed one last kiss on his cheek.
The nurse came and ever so quietly took him from her arms. It happened so gently that when she looked back on it later, it was difficult to pinpoint the exact moment of separation.
The room was dark and silent. There was such an emptiness now that Dillon was gone. Her arms ached as well as her heart – they were both so empty. Annie laid back in the hospital bed, exhausted. She fixed her gaze on the night sky because there was no where else to look. Eric was wrapping himself up in his feelings of loss and numbness. She respected his need to approach things in his own way, but it left her very much alone.
It was then that she saw it – a tiny star, glistening and shiny brightly, all alone in the darkness. She closed her eyes and looked again. It hadn’t been there a minute before – was she hallucinating? No, there it was, twinkling and shining more than it had before.
Suddenly a feeling of warmth and peace enveloped her. She smiled because she knew that Dillon was in Heaven. He was telling her that by making his little star shine brighter than all the others. He would always be in her heart, swaddled in a blanket of the memories of this night and all the days preceding it.