The Last 48 Hours

Our Precious Baby Girl and Her Last 48 Hours With Us:
I had caught a head cold on Thursday (Dec. 29, 2011) and had started on a Z-pack prescribed by my OB. I was feeling awfully stuffy headed and sneezing constantly. I even went to work against my best judgement and My Hubby's wishes.
Our sweet Crimsyn Molli passed away on January 1, 2012 at 3 a.m. I awoke from my sleep feeling extremely sick and having a chill all over my body. I suppose this was a "Mother's Intuition" or so they call it. Something felt terribly wrong! I texted Timmy to tell him how I was feeling and then laid back down to get some more sleep.
At 10:30 a.m. I was walking past the hallway when I glimpsed down and saw the image of a baby girl that resembled me (an awfully lot) with other adorable features like big loose caramel blonde curls. She was playing with a stretchy type of rainbow colored toy and looked up while smiling at me. She couldn't have been more than 9 months old. It was brief but gave me a chill down my spine with an overall feeling of serene peace. I thought to myself "I just saw my baby before she has even arrived. How blessed am I?!" And I texted her Daddy at 10:45 a.m. to tell him all about it. I was so excited.
Little did I think or connect the dots at the time... my gift to see spirits and premonitions has always been strong and I never in a million years would have thought my baby in my womb had indeed passed on earlier that morning and I was getting to meet her for the first and last time there in my hallway.
Within 24 hours of seeing my angel in the hallway, my water had broken and we were in the ER awaiting news on how our Crimsyn Molli was doing. They put me in a room bypassing triage and that's when I realized it was serious. I started bleeding a lot (I lost quite a bit of blood) and when they did the transvaginal ultrasound it revealed our baby girl, slumped over and measuring only 16 weeks 5 days along. She was not moving and her heart was still. You could see all four chambers of her beautiful, tiny heart but no flicker.... not one beat to be seen, not a single dance move from her adorable silhouette. We knew she had left us at that point.
I could never describe the pain I felt at this very moment other than I honestly thought I would die right there of a heart attack or panic attack. I couldn't breathe and I could barely speak. All I could say is: "She has a nursery. She has a wardrobe. She has parents that love her. This is just a dream. She can't be gone. No!!! We deserve her. We've had to fight so hard. This was supposed to be our miracle, finally." I repeated this over and over like a mad woman.
Ultimately, they decided on surgery to birth her from me. I could have gone home and birthed her on my own (the dr. was going to allow this), but I would have had to sign a form stating I released them from all risks and the risk was death due to hemorrage because of the heparin I was on 2x a day for the past 9 weeks. I didn't want to die as well, so we decided to have a D&C at the hospital instead where I could be monitored if something went wrong. They did the procedure at 3 p.m. (36 hours from when our baby had passed away) and by 6 p.m. I was back in my room grieving over the loss of our only daughter.
I felt like I needed to re-live this story in order to heal. This was part of my moving on, my recovery, my healing... and I'm glad I could share it with all of you who loved and adored our baby girl as much as we did. She passed away on December 31, 2011 at only 16 weeks ... we will always love our angel!