I was diagnosed with PCOS at 23 but presented the classic signs long before. It was a devastating diagnosis, as the deepest longing in my heart was to be a mother.
I married my husband July 8, 2017, and we hoped beyond hope to start a family. When we returned from our honeymoon, we were shocked but overjoyed to discover I was pregnant! We were both instantly in love with the life growing inside me. The pregnancy progressed very well. We began to set our worries aside and were just waiting to meet our child, our greatest dream come true.
At 28 weeks pregnant, one day I didn’t feel as much movement. We went to the hospital and received the news that shattered our hearts. There was no heartbeat. The next morning, we returned to the hospital to be induced. I delivered him without an epidural, with coaching from my midwife. When it came time to push, I gave the most guttural scream. All the pain inside me came crashing out as his little body left mine after 27 hours of labour, and the wished-for miracle pregnancy was over.
This little boy, who looked just like his dad, silently entered the world. He never took a breath, never cried. The silence was deafening. I held him and told him how much I love him. My husband Trevor held him, too, and told him the things a father wants to tell his son. Our son was named Eli, meaning “Ascended” or “With God.” His cord was wrapped around his neck three times. The cord that connected him to me, that sustained and nurtured his life, was the same that ended his life so soon.
I still feel his presence around me. In my heart, I believe he came to be a teacher, guardian, and protector. I am trying to accept and understand why he left me so soon, but we are hoping to continue to grow our family. We will share with our future children all about their big brother Eli, who has passed on but who we will never stop loving.
Waiting on Sunrise 