MaSarah Jay

My name is Lisa.  Lisa Marie.  Dad was an Elvis fan, thank you.  So you might be wondering exactly why the link to my blog is that of MaSarah Jay.

This is a memory, while terrible, one that I will never forget, and I use her name in the memory of a the little girl that never came into my life.  I suppose the time wasn't right, the stars we not aligned or what, yet whatever the reason, I lost a baby girl 6 months into a pregnancy that seemingly was going fine.

In late 2004, I was working as a Bank Manager out in Central PA.  I had a great group of girls as my staff who worked hard so that I could do what I needed to do most; bring in the business accounts.  Life was very stressful in this job as the District Managers in that business are never satisfied with what you bring them; even if its gold on a silver platter.  In my situation, I was hired as the Assistant Manager, in charge of branch operations yet quickly was given the job of Branch Manager because the current one just one day up and left.  Classy AND professional!  The branch was a mess; the efficientcy of the records and security of everything was just all wrong.  And we were scheduled for an inspection the following day to make sure we were up to code.  I think you can guess who took the hit for that.

I'm not the type to keep my mouth shut in situations like this so I was VERY vocal in my own defence that I had a short tenor there AND had just aquired the job that week. There was no possible way I could have fixed the problems they needed to see fixed in that short of time. Yet for weeks, I was hung out to dry as the scape goat.  Somebody has to blame someone, right? 

What does this have to do with MaSarah Jay?

It was weeks later after all that stress came down on me and feeling sick because of how terrible I felt about my job that I thought that perhaps my sickness was a little more than stress.  I was right. The strip read "pregnant" and I was happy as could be!! I made an appointment for the very next day for my ultrasound and my husband and I showed up an hour early, we were so excited (and scared).

We were taken back to the small room where they would check my baby.  I laid down on the bed and put my arms above my head, turned to look at the monitor.  The technition began her ultrasound and was rubbing my belly with cold goo.  Looking at the computer screen, I could see the actual baby. "There's a baby in there!" I said.  Yet the technition was quiet as she nodded and said "yes, there is a baby in there".  Things became quiet and she continued her test. I looked at my husband, who we both knew something wasn't right.  When she was finished, she cleaned off my tummy and her equipment and said "You're all done.  You can go have a seat and the Doctor will see you soon".

We walked together out of the room and waited for, what seemed like, forever.  When we were finally called back into the doctors office, we had smiles on our faces.  We wanted to know EVERYTHING!  The doctor sat across from us and folded her hands on her desk. "You are just about 6 months Pregnant. However, we were unable to find a heartbeat for the baby."  My eyes went blank. What was she telling me?  That my baby hasn't developed a heart yet? I was young and just was too stunned to understand yet my husband knew exactly what they were telling me and took my hand, squeezing it as if to prepare me for what was going to come next.

"You're baby has grown to 6 months and has died" the doctor said. "I am surprised you haven't miscarried on your own but we need to get you into the operating room as soon as possible."

What? You're taking my baby from me? Wait, I'm not ready for this.

The scheduled the D&C procedure for that Friday and told me that if I should miscarry on my own, to head to the ER as quickly as possible. 

The day of the procedure, my parents came from Philadelphia to be with me.  I wasn't ready for this.  Nobody was.  I sat in the waiting room wondering "Why me? Why MY baby?" Of all the things in life I have wanted to be, a mother was on the top of my list.  This just wasn't happening.  Yet out came the stretcher for me and they took me away. 

The doctors asked if I would like to be awake or asleep for the procedure.  I would have to give birth to a still-born child.  If you know me, I'm a strong girl but this wasn't something I could conciously do.  So after the induction, I was out and woke up an hour later in recovery with a terrible pain in my stomach, and my heart. I immediatly touched my stomach; I knew my baby was gone.  The doctor came over to me and said how sorry she was as I fought back the tears of the reality of the situation.  "Do you want to know what it was?"
I was confused by the question, coming out of a deep sleep and everything.  "Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" She asked.

I thought for a moment. And said "Yes". This baby deserved to be remembered for the life she did live inside of me for a short while and know that it's mother loved her.

"A little girl".

And so I left the hospital later that day and kept quiet to myself.  I named her MaSarah Jay. And every year, no one knows, that on that very same day, I have a small prayer for her to celebrate her birth into heaven. 

Keep watch over your Mother, my child.  And guide your little brother through life.  He needs you and we will meet again in paradise.

Love,

Mom