Frankie's Story

Months spent learning to fold little onesies, getting your crib put together with the pretty paper flowers I bought to go above with your name and getting the little nook of the living room turned into your nursery; we were so ready. Terrified, but ready.

Pregnancy wasn’t terrifying. It was perfect.

But I’ll get to that later. 

I went for an appointment with my midwife as I was now 39w 4d and ready to pop. All was well, aside from my feet swelling to triple the size and my blood pressure rising. They let me know it was not a cause for a hospital visit, but that I would come back to see them in 4 days and check again then. I think this is the moment things shifted for me…from lighthearted and excited, to very anxious. 

As I left the midwives, I couldn’t help but think in my head, “I need to get back there, I can not wait 4 days”.
I called my mom and told her. We were all so excited the time was finally close and I jokingly summed it up as “it’s way too hot, I’m sweating in every crevice, she can come now!”. I went back to our apartment and laid in a sweaty daze for the rest of the day, counting down the hours until I went back to the midwife. Looking back, it’s funny how the mind works. The following day, May 19th, amongst all the sweat of the hot May heat, I convinced myself my water had broke (funny because when my water did actually break, just like everyone said, “you will know”…..I knew), but it warranted a trip back to the midwife. No water break. But my blood pressure was even higher, and this time we were going to the hospital. 

In a cruel twist that makes leaving my home even harder now, my midwives office is directly across the street, which at the time gave me the reassurance if I needed anything, they were right there.

My midwife wasn’t there when I arrived at the hospital, so I sat calmly in the waiting room, starting to really feel like wow, we’re finally here. She’s finally going to be here!

After some more tests, my bloodwork wasn’t a huge cause for concern, however I was experiencing a severe headache that would not let up, so with this and being almost 40 weeks, the attending physician decided to induce me.
I’ve always hated hospitals and the thought of staying overnight, but when they admitted me, I felt a weird sense of “this is where I need to be”. I FaceTimed with my husband who was sleeping in our car in the parking lot (thanks covid), finally convinced him to go home to sleep, and made a video for Frankie. Telling her my hopes and dreams, my excitement to meet her and what she has brought to my world.

To this day I still have not yet been able to watch that video.

As a first time mom, all of what I was about to experience could only be referenced to by stories and movies. I can say now, NOTHING prepares you for your own experience, especially when it ends the way ours did. 

May 20th. The morning came fast and my husband was finally allowed to join me in the hospital. It was time!

Labour was perfect. Textbook. Until it absolutely wasn’t. 

Again as the saying goes, “you’ll know when something is going wrong” and looking back, I did. The mood shifted. The nurse whom I had lighthearted conversations with all day, seemed tense. With a low-risk pregnancy, my midwives were letting my husband catch Frankie, but we were aware that if anything went awry, they would move him out of the way. They did.

I could feel the room change but tried to remain calm. Was this normal? The nurse seemed calm, but I could feel an urgency in the air. Finally, the delivering doctor entered the room. “Wow that was fast. I saw it on the screen you were pushing!”  I hold on to this statement for many reasons. All of which are gut wrenching. 

At this moment, time stands still. What was once just myself, my husband, my midwife and nurse, is now a sea of people I do not know. Panicked faces. Yelling. Multiple hands pushing and pulling on my body, on my daughters body. For a sheer moment I felt myself leave the room, as if I was watching from above. The sounds…the voices counting ONE. TWO. THREE as they attempted to save my daughters life. And then I heard a voice, I see the face of a doctor standing in front of me. “I am sorry but your daughter has died”. 

The screams left my lips without constraint. The words “I NEED HER! PLEASE! NO!” could be echoed throughout the halls like a beating drum. As if this in itself would bring her back to me. Sound and time are now something I can’t explain. 

But I hear another voice. 

 “WE’VE GOT A HEARTBEAT”

 

The next 5 days would prove to be an experience no person should ever be able to put into words. A rollercoaster is what many described to me, but I think that does a disservice to rollercoasters. There is no track, no destination. This is a free fall. 

What we learned is that Frankie suffered a shoulder dystocia, which resulted in severe HIE, Hypoxic Ischemic Encephalopathy. 

 

Frankie Shelley Nicole Spencer. You changed my world. Where was once your crib with the pretty paper flowers above, now sits your urn. Every night, mommy and daddy kiss you goodnight. The coldness is a stark contrast to the softness of your beautiful skin, and a beautifully painful memory you were really here. 

I feel you with me always; you’re a force like mommy always said. 

To the day I hold you again, I love you babe.

We will make you so damn proud. 

https://www.rushnellfamilyservices.com/memorials/frankie-spencer/4630664/index.Ty php

https://m.youtube.com/watch?v=kv2q87yVpb0