Lucy’s Story | Losing Lucy and Finding Hope

Here’s the story of how we lost our Lucy Dair. It’s long, by the way. I couldn’t write it without the details. We were so excited when we found out we were pregnant with our third child. I had a strong suspicion it was a girl from the beginning. We had prayed for this baby and we were thrilled that God had blessed us with another sweet life to love.

We expected a normal, healthy pregnancy and birth like we had with Liam and Asher. Sure enough, the all day, all night nausea and vomiting started around 6 weeks as usual. We didn’t tell anybody we were pregnant until Thanksgiving Day. We put a “Big Bro” shirt on Asher and let him tell everybody. It was so exciting!

We had our first ultrasound at 9 weeks and everything looked perfect, the baby was healthy and bouncing around. It’s so amazing to see your baby for the first time. We loved her completely. Josh left for class right after the ultrasound and I had my appointment with my doctor. I had no idea that my safe, cozy world of happy expectations was about to crumble. Dr. C came in and seemed reserved. He didn’t ask me any of the usual pregnancy questions. He told me there was a problem with the preliminary blood work and he was pretty concerned. There was nothing wrong with the baby, but my blood tested positive for anti-kell antibodies. These antibodies were new, they hadn’t been there when I was pregnant with Liam or Asher. My boys had been so happy in the womb that they eventually had to be forced out at 41 weeks! Dr. C told me that if my baby had the kell blood type he/she might be in danger. Apparently, Asher had had the kell blood type, but I didn’t have the antibodies then so he wasn’t in danger during the pregnancy. During childbirth some of his blood mixed with my blood. Because his blood was kell and mine wasn’t, my body recognized it as a foreign thing and created antibodies to fight it. This is the same thing that happens when your body recognizes a virus in your body. It creates the antibodies to fight the virus and destroys the virus. Well, my body now thought kell blood was a virus and would attack it and try to destroy it. Dr. C told me I would now have these antibodies for the rest of my life, which means all of the rest of my pregnancies would be risky.

I was referred to a high risk obgyn in Birmingham, but was assured that because they caught it so early and would monitor the baby closely it would probably all turn out ok. These babies have at least an 80% chance of survival. Surely we wouldn’t be in the 20%. We found out that my antibody titer (level) was extremely high. Anything over 1:8 was considered dangerous to the baby. Mine was 1:1,024 right from the start! Apparently I have a very good immune system. This was bad news for the baby. We started getting weekly ultrasounds and the baby looked great- big and healthy and energetic. I felt her kick for the first time at 15 weeks (just like her brothers) and felt her kick every day after that. We were SO thrilled to find out we were having a girl! Liam and Asher were so excited about having a baby sister to protect. At 18 weeks I went in for an ultrasound and I asked them to do an MCA scan. This is a scan they do on the middle cerebral artery in the baby’s brain to check if the baby is getting anemic or not. The doctors told me they don’t do MCAs until 20-24 weeks. I had read online that they can start at 18 weeks. The doctors reassured me that babies aren’t even really affected until 20-24 weeks at the earliest, so she was fine. I felt compelled to have the scan, so after a lot of awkward confrontation, they (reluctantly) did the first MCA scan. No one could believe the results. She was EXTREMELY anemic and already showing the beginning signs of fetal hydrops, which is how these babies die. Her blood was being attacked by my antibodies. The doctors actually thanked me for pushing to get the MCA scan and said if we had waited even a few more days she wouldn’t have made it. They immediately scheduled an intrauterine blood transfusion (IUT) for the next morning. I was in shock and realized that I hadn’t felt Lucy kick much that day. I had a feeling that she wasn’t going to make it. Let me tell you, carrying around your baby and knowing that she’s probably in the process of dying inside you is one of the worst things imaginable. I cried out to God to give me strength and he sustained me.

The next morning we went in for the blood transfusion. Usually these babies aren’t affected until much later in the pregnancy, so they are bigger when they need to have a blood transfusion. Lucy was barely 18 weeks. They had only done one other intrauterine blood transfusion on a baby that tiny EVER at UAB. The doctors weren’t sure if they could get any blood to her, but they were willing to try. An IUT is when they stick a long needle through the mothers belly into the baby’s umbilical vein and give the baby a blood transfusion. The procedure went better than they expected (and yes, I was awake through the whole thing!) They couldn’t believe they were able to hit the tiny vein just right. They also went in a second time and put blood into her abdomen. They tested her blood before they put the new blood in and her hematocrit was 6. That meant she was very sick. The doctors got lots of fresh blood to the baby and were optimistic about her surviving. They said it was a miracle. We scheduled a follow up appointment for six days later. Everyone was elated and thanked God for answering our prayers, but I knew that Lucy wasn’t kicking. I knew something wasn’t right. All the other women online who had IUTs said their babies all perked up after having an IUT and kicked like crazy. Lucy was still. Those were some of the most anxiety ridden days of my life. I never felt her kick again. I would wake up in the middle of the night in a sweaty panic. After two days I went back to the ER in Birmingham because I just knew she was dead. I hadn’t felt her kick in days. The nurse hooked me up to the ultrasound and there was her sweet, strong heartbeat, the best sound in the world. I sobbed and sobbed to hear that beautiful sound. I also noticed that she wasn’t moving much on the ultrasound. The doctors said the heartbeat sounded good, but even if she was sick, there was nothing they could do. They had to wait at least a week to do another IUT. I had a feeling that I was losing her. I realized at this point that I had hardly taken any pregnancy photos because I was afraid of getting attached to the baby. I suddenly wanted to remember being pregnant with her. I had my sister take these pictures a few days before Lucy died. I’m smiling, but I was dying inside.

 I prayed and prayed and waited. Finally it was time for our check up to see if the blood transfusion worked. The doctors did another MCA scan and discovered that her anemia was even WORSE than before the transfusion. She was so sick. She was showing more signs of fetal hydrops and now her heart was showing some signs of damage. The doctors were baffled as to why the blood transfusion apparently didn’t work. They told me they would try one more transfusion the next morning, but it was almost pointless. She was going to die. Oh, how I cried and cried and the women in the waiting room were so glad it wasn’t them. That was Liam’s 4th birthday and we had to run by Publix on the way home to pick up some cupcakes. The lady who worked in the bakery was pregnant and asked when my baby was due. I told her July 2nd but she had no idea my baby would never make it to July. She congratulated me and told me she was having twins. I wanted to die. After that we went to Toys R Us to get Liam a birthday present. On the way to the monster truck aisle we had to pass by the baby girl clothes. Oh how my heart broke into so many pieces. I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the next few days. I clung to God. Liam was oblivious and loved his cupcakes.

The next morning Josh and I drove to Birmingham with heavy hearts. As the nurse was showing us to our room she asked when my baby was due. I told her and she said, “Oh how exciting! You might have a fourth of July baby!” I told her the baby would never make it to July. When we got to the room she tried to listen to Lucy’s heartbeat, but she couldn’t find it. She moved the doppler all over my belly and still nothing. She went and got the doctor and he brought an ultrasound machine with him. And there she was on the screen, my perfect baby girl, dying in the place where she should have been the safest. The doctor looked at her heart and it was barely beating- 60 beats per minute. The image of her little heart struggling to beat has been the hardest one for me to get out of my mind. It comes to me at random times during the day and it slays me every time, regardless of where I am. Hobby Lobby, in the middle of a tutoring session, at church… her tiny little heart struggling to beat. The doctors said she was dying. They rushed out to get another doctor. I held Josh’s hand and we prayed that she wouldn’t suffer. I told God that if she was suffering or if she was going to die I wanted him to take her right then, just take her. The doctor rushed back in and looked at the ultrasound and she was gone. He had taken her right when I asked. It’s a strange feeling to know your baby is in heaven. Dying is the biggest, most frightening journey we will ever take and my baby girl had just taken it without her Mommy. I felt proud of her in a way. I wanted to go with her.

I knew what was coming and I didn’t want to face it. Laboring and giving birth to her, knowing she was lifeless. Living a lifetime of missing her. Telling Liam and Asher that their baby sister was dead. Again, I clung to God and he whispered, “I will redeem it.” They induced labor a few hours later. I asked the nurse how I was supposed to give birth to my dead baby. Her eyes just filled with tears and she said nothing. It was so exactly like my other two births that it was horrific. Giving birth to my boys was probably the best experience of my life. This was the worst experience of my life. I kept thinking, “This cannot be my last birth experience. This cannot be how I go out.” Laboring, dilating, epidural, more dilating and waiting to meet my dead daughter. It was the hardest thing I have ever done. I begged God to sustain me every minute, I told him I couldn’t do it. He bent low and held my hand and whispered, “I will redeem it.” I gave birth to her early the next morning. Usually, when you give birth to your baby you work so hard and push and push and finally when the baby emerges it is the most euphoric feeling. You feel superhuman, you love your baby so much at that moment. It was the exact opposite when I gave birth to Lucy. It was the deepest hell. I howled with sorrow when she emerged, knowing she wasn’t even there. The love was just as strong, but my baby wasn’t there. I worked so hard and I never got to meet her. I will have to live the rest of my life knowing that I have a daughter who I never got to meet, who isn’t here with her Mommy and Daddy and her big brothers that would have loved her so much. I have never experienced such pain. I didn’t know pain like this existed.

 She died on February 8th and was born on February 9th, 2013. I always think it’s strange that she died the day before she was born. It’s supposed to be the other way around. They cleaned her up and brought her to us in a sweet little yellow dress and a crocheted hat. She was wrapped in a blanket and her head was on a tiny heart shaped pillow. She looked so much like her Daddy. She had the most beautiful mouth. Her fingers were long like mine and her fingernails were perfect. I was 19 weeks along. She was 9 inches long and weighed 1 pound.

Our Lucy Dair Weathersby

I thought how strange it was that these doctors had fought so hard and spent so many thousands of dollars trying to save my Lucy’s life, but if I had deemed her “unwanted” I could have simply aborted her. How is this ok? But that’s a different post. My Mom came in and wept and wept over her. They took her away forever when we had finished spending time with her. We had to suddenly make decisions we never imagined we would have to make. “Do you want an autopsy? Do you want her body or do you want her cremated?” At 19 weeks pregnant you should be making choices like, “What color should we paint her room? What kind of carseat should we get?” not “Should we cremate her or take her body?” It’s so strange to give birth and then be recovering in the room and have no baby, no joy, no new life. The doctors came and talked about our options for the future. They reminded us if we had another kell positive baby it would die. They had never seen a woman’s antibodies attack the baby as aggressively as mine had. Every baby of ours has a 50% chance of being kell positive. We mourned the loss of our daughter and mourned the loss of all our future children. We had wanted 5 kids. (We later found out that I had had a fetomaternal hemorrhage which also contributed to Lucy’s death. The doctors now think more children might be possible.)

I remember when I was pregnant with Liam and Asher I had a reoccurring nightmare. In the nightmare, I had my newborn baby with me and my breasts were heavy with milk and it was time to feed him but I couldn’t find him. I knew he needed to eat and my milk was leaking but I couldn’t find my baby. I searched frantically but never found him. I always woke up terrified. I had that nightmare several times when I was pregnant with both of my boys, but never with Lucy. It happened in real life with Lucy. The next day in the hospital my breasts filled with milk and there was no baby to feed. This seemed so cruel, that my milk would come in to remind me to nourish my baby who’s body lay cold. I felt like I was living a nightmare. Through it all I felt God’s presence there in the hospital room with me. He gave me courage and strength to get through the worst experience of my life.

Deuteronomy 31:6    Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid or terrified because of them, for the Lord your God goes with you; he will never leave you nor forsake you.

Over and over again God told me that he would redeem it. I’m still not sure exactly how he is going to do that, but I trust him. I would love it if you came along with me on this journey and maybe we will see how God redeems Lucy’s death and my childbirth experience. He is a sweet and loving God and I am choosing to trust him.