On Sept 25, 2008 our beautiful little boy Silas Orion was born in our home. It was 18 hours of a really hard labor. Chris, my mom and our friend Andrea were the most incredible team I could have possibly have had supporting me. I remember very little of the first 15 hours, though a walk outside to look at the sliver of the moon stands out firmly in my brain.
I didn’t eat much but remember drinking juice, water, smoothies and all sorts of stuff to keep me hydrated and strong. Asking “can I get in the tub yet” over and over stands out as well. Ironically it was too hot and needed to be cooled down in order for me to get in when the time was right. The last 3 1/2 hours will forever be implanted in my brain. I was pushing with all my might. I wanted to give up so many times. My support system would not allow that. I found an inner strength I never knew I had. I had to get my little baby out.
But Silas was just taking his time, he was as stubborn as his parents. We did most of the pushing in the tub, me sitting in front of Chris and using the tug of war method with my mom on the other end of the towel. My midwives were there helping to get that baby out of me. Our dear friend Andrea was also there as my doula, my support and my rock. We had a fabulous team doing everything we could to make this happen. After hours of pushing and almost giving up, his head finally emerged and I was told to get out of the tub immediately. My midwives basically tore him out of me, but he wasn’t breathing. They did CPR and gave him oxygen but it wasn’t working. The EMT’s came immediately and took him away in the ambulance. Chris rode with them, distraught.
We had to wait until my placenta was born before I could do anything else. I was pretty badly torn so my midwife thought I should get checked out at the hospital instead of having them sew me up. We drove over to Yale-New Haven hospital and first went to see Chris and Silas. They managed to get his heart to start beating, but Silas was brain dead.
What happened during the labor was called Shoulder Dystocia and happens in less then .05% of all births. Whether it had been a hospital birth or homebirth, the outcome is usually the same. His shoulders were back instead of curling forward like most babies do when they are exiting the birth canal. His shoulders got stuck on my pelvic bone and he couldn’t come out on his own. It’s really not something they could predict ahead of time. Also the umbilical cord was squeezed between his body and the birth canal and that was the point he stopped breathing. The midwives had been checking his heartbeat constantly and he was fine. My blood pressure had also been fine so there was really no worry throughout the labor. It was those last 5 min that they were not able to check the heartbeat when he was on his way out the birth canal.
We are not going through the what ifs, homebirth is what we believed in and still believe in. Our midwives were fantastic and we were in the best possible hands. The doctors and nurses at the hospital told us the same thing happens there more than you would expect, and that we should be proud of our courageous decision to have a birth at home. We just happened to be one of that .05%.
We got to the hospital and Chris was holding Silas who was attached to all the machines. Our whole family was there. I held my little angel for a while before I had to leave to be stitched up. When the time came to take him off of life support and let him pass away almost our whole family were around us to hold us up and keep us strong. At about 3am, they brought Silas back to us – letting us know that he was being held the entire time. He was so peaceful and beautiful. We each got to hold him and say goodbye. This was not how I envisioned this day to end.
The love and support we are getting from all of you is helping us get through this horrible time. We have had friends and family here with us at all times in that first month and the outpouring of love through email, phone calls, texts and blog posts has been incredible. I feel like I am living someone else’s life right now, like this is just all a bad dream that I will wake up from at some point. I am having my ups and downs, we are laughing and crying, remembering and forgetting. We will get through this, as we know, time will heal us.
I wrote this post a few days after Silas was born and died. Having 8 months to digest the enormity of our situation, I no longer believe time will totally heal us. I think that’s ok because a part of me will always hold Silas close to my heart and at this point, I think I will always be sad when I think of him. I have not healed, not yet.
I felt the need to add this because it seems like I wrote that forever ago and some of my thoughts and feelings have shifted since that time.
And another addendum, almost 3 years out. We no longer believe in homebirth (for everyone) and are going to have a hospital birth with this current pregnancy.
Our beliefs and views on the events that took place leading up to the birth of Silas and what happened at the birth have also shifted since writing this originally. I won’t change what I wrote, but feel the need to add that we believe things should have gone differently and that homebirth was not what was best for us in our situation.
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September 29, 2008 at 6:28 pm
Queenie
I’m so sorry this happened. It is wonderful that you are surrounded by loving, supportive people. May they carry you through this awful time. I can tell from reading this blog that you and Chris have amazing outlooks on this world, and that even though you may face dark nights, you both clearly have a strength of character and spirit that will pull you through this.
September 29, 2008 at 6:54 pm
Michelle
You both have such strong inner spirits, at a time like this when your whole community is sending love and healing towards you, you still have so much love to give back to us, let’s just keep the circle going strong. Keep finding comfort in the night sky, in the moon, which you Lani have always loved, and now in your son’s constellation. I love you all very much!
September 30, 2008 at 11:14 am
Jen
Lani and Chris,
First I must thank you for allowing me the privilege of viewing this amazing body of work. Your thought and reflections are such a gift to those you know you well and those who have crossed your path just briefly. Although I fall into the latter category I share the ache of the many hearts who make up your world. I am so sorry that the most important one no longer beats with us. May you hear him in the quiet places only you know, may you see him as radiant light in unexpected places and may you feel him always in the tender touch of one another.
I honor you both and the light you brought from within to share with the world.
Namaste
September 30, 2008 at 12:17 pm
OrganicSister
My heart breaks for you. I can only imagine your pain and it still hurts me deeply. How beautiful that you had a supportive hospital, courageous midwives and so many loved ones by your side. My heart is with you. With Love, Tara
September 30, 2008 at 6:58 pm
Amy
I wish I had words to heal you. Your family will be in my thoughts and my heart. I hope you can find some solace – any peace at all – from the amazing strength that you have found to share your story.
September 30, 2008 at 9:59 pm
flutter
This is so heartbreaking and brave and courageous and beautifully told. I only hope that your healing is swift and that your little star shines forever bright
September 30, 2008 at 11:00 pm
bgirl
lani and chris,
i found you via another blog. your words crush me. how devastating your loss is. i am in awe of your courage and the deep love you share for eachother and silas and the strength you have to share your story with us. may his love forever connect you two and provide shelter and light. i am so sorry for your irreplaceable loss.
namaste
October 1, 2008 at 8:52 am
Holly
What a beautiful, brave, and heartbreaking story. Thank you for sharing it so honestly and directly.
October 1, 2008 at 1:47 pm
Shawna
Orion has always been my favorite constellation, so bright and warming on those cold winter nights. Now it will have more meaning and I will think of Sila every time it rises. What a hard, hard journey, and you are so brave to share it. I’m glad you had such wonderful midwives and encouraging hospital staff. I hope you will find peace in knowing Silas has touched so many, and reaches as far as his stars.
October 1, 2008 at 10:10 pm
kim klein williams
thinking of you often and how amazing it is that you are sharing this story with others, perhaps even others going through the same sad time. bless you both and your strength and love for each other is overwhelming. bless you both.
October 2, 2008 at 1:34 pm
philip & Joan
Our Deepest sympathies to you both
Stay as strong as you can for each-other .
We will burn a candle
Philip
October 2, 2008 at 1:38 pm
mkwewer
I don’t know you but I am so sorry for your loss. I know what you are going through, I lost my twin boys in the Spring. Please know that you are not alone.
October 2, 2008 at 3:23 pm
Patti Brown Mulligan
Lani
You and Chris inspire us all to be better people and parents! Silas will always know in his heart that he has the most kind and loving parents.
Continue to share your love with those around you and Silas will always be in our hearts!
Smile when you feel the wind, it is hugs from above!
Laugh in the rain and snow it is a playful expression from your angel.
Feel the warmth of love every time you feel the warmth of the sun!
October 3, 2008 at 1:20 pm
Erin
My daughter was 9lbs 6oz at birth. She broke her shoulder coming out and I remember the doctor murmuring under her breath “I didn’t know if she was going to make it out.” How naive I was. I’m so sorry for your loss. I’m crying as I type this and my heart goes out to you.
October 3, 2008 at 10:39 pm
Manda
I’m so sorry you had to go through this. Your courage and grace will bring you out the other side, but you will be forever changed by the short time Silas was in your life. Far too brief.
October 4, 2008 at 7:52 pm
jaded
i am so sorry. it’s awful to be a part of that 1%. after the loss of my babies this community has helped to prop me up, in fact i don’t know what i would have done with out it. i know your pain. i lost my daughters in 2007 and 2008. it is very cruel to go through the pain of labor and leave empty handed. after my latest loss in May of this year, I simply did not want to live, i just wanted to go with my babies. yet somehow i am living.
October 5, 2008 at 7:13 pm
Kami
I’m sorry. My heart is breaking for you. I hope people are understanding and supportive of your decisions. I believe a homebirth is the best way to go too.
October 6, 2008 at 12:14 pm
Deena
Healing thoughts and lots of prayers being sent your way.
October 7, 2008 at 5:52 am
Tara
thank you for sharing your birth story. i promise it will help others to know they aren’t alone. there is an amazing network waiting to comfort you, and help you all to process and pull through. keeping all of you in my thoughts and sending love and light. there are no words of comfort, just strong shoulders and warm hugs.. although your time with him in your arms was brief, he will forever be your son in your heart, mind and soul.
truly sorry for your loss, my friends.
October 8, 2008 at 3:36 pm
Lori Ryan Cugno
My thoughts and prayers are with both of you during this time. Silas will give you the strength to carry on. Bless you both.
October 8, 2008 at 7:45 pm
Kyrsten
In November of 2006, my twin sons were born prematurely due to preterm rupture of membranes- unexplained and unexpected.
We “let go” of my beloved, long-awaited firstborn after three days; he was afflicted with sepsis, which occurs in less than 1% of babies in our situation.
It sucks, doesn’t it?
I will *always* have a hole in the Mommy part of my soul; a missing piece. It’s a conundrum to parent my surviving son: the joy and sorrow intermingled.
Sending you wishes for blessings of peace and comfort.
October 14, 2008 at 8:09 pm
Berkeley
I am so sad to hear that this has happened again. I lost my first daughter in much the same manner – after a long labor with hours of pushing, she died in the last minutes before birth. I was home – I wonder if we had the same midwives? I know several other families in Connecticut and elsewhere that have survived this. I know that you will too. I would love to speak with you IRL but am not sure how to get in touch with you. I am working on it and will hopefully give you a call soon.
October 22, 2008 at 4:48 pm
Isaiah Cooper
Chris and Lani,
I just heard about your loss from Melanie Scheibenflug. There is no way that words can really provide comfort, but know that I am thinking about you and am so sorry for your loss. The only possibility of gaining comfort is time. My father died when I was 13. It took me years to deal with it. As Paul Simon wrote: “Losing love is like a window in your heart! Everyone can see that you are all torn apart!” The loss never goes away, but eventually life begins to fill in the window.
Hold onto your love and your close family and friends! It is ok to not feel ok for months and to ask for help and support.
With my love,
Isaiah
October 24, 2008 at 11:04 pm
Kim
My heart goes out to you! I hope that somehow your hearts find a way to heal. Hold onto each other.
November 4, 2008 at 4:05 pm
dagny
Thanks you for sharing your story.
I am heartbroken for you both.
He was a beautiful perfect little boy.
I hope that time will heal you somewhat, I know it will never go away.
Thinking about you both.
xoxo
November 7, 2008 at 7:22 pm
Kristie Milligan
I found your story via a post on Mothering.com… your Silas is absolutely GEORGOUS!!! The post on MDC caught my eye because of your location as I’m in Groton. When I came here and started reading the blog posts I realized that you are somehow related to Melissa maybe? I frequent your coffee shop in NL ironically and I know Melissa from the Crunchy Crew which is a yahoo group for crunchy parents here in CT which I own ( but havent frequented myself in many moons).
Very wierd how I ended up here… I lost my son at 40w 5d on Oct. 19th. He was 7 lbs 10oz and perfectly amazing. His name is Micah and he was born still. My husband and I are completely devistated and desperately in search of others who are living in this underworld that we are now forced to refer to as “Life”. It pains me that there seem to be so many of “us”.
I lit my shabbat candles in honor of our beautiful babies tonight… yep, we’re Jewish too but in much the same way as your family.
Namaste and Shabbat Shalom to both of you from both of us.
Micah and Kristie Milligan
November 18, 2008 at 10:49 pm
aliza
thank you for sharing your story. i found you on glow in the woods. i am with you through this crazy journey. i lost my baby boy 3 months ago at full term. just one day didn’t feel him moving, then they couldn’t find a heartbeat. and boom the nightmare began.
this babylost community has been my lifeline. i’m here with you.
November 18, 2008 at 10:51 pm
aliza
ps…to kristie milligan…
just saw your note above
i haven’t been able to light shabbat candles really, or i can light but can’t say any blessings, since we lost our son lev. would love to connect with you…
November 24, 2008 at 9:14 pm
steve and nancy bermack
dear lani and chris,
we just wanted you to know that we think of you quite often and hope you are coping as best as possible and healing in your own time.
our fondest and warmest regards,
steve and nancy bermack
December 13, 2008 at 3:29 pm
Shannon
I’m so sorry for your loss of sweet Silas. My baby boy died at 39 weeks on September 9th, so we are following similar paths of loss timelines. I’m grateful for the internet.. reading other families stories helps me to feel not so alone. We are all on this journey together.. it’s a sucky one! But with support we can all do it! Again, so sorry for your son… what a beautiful baby. I know how much he is missed.
January 3, 2009 at 12:55 am
karen
big hugs are in my heart for you old friend.
karen campanella kunz
January 15, 2009 at 11:43 am
emma
Through some weird universal internet twists and turns today, I have ended up following a link to your blog. Like many others, I cannot leave without saying I was moved by your story and wish you both much love and healing in your journeys ahead. Lu, your writing is very real and Chris, your writing is very beautiful – you both say important things and may not realise what a gift you give others who have also experienced loss by articulating your pain and healing so lyrically and coherently.
Onwards in your journeys to reconcile life with dreams.
March 23, 2009 at 6:03 am
Angie
Dearest Lani and Chris,
I have commented on your blog, and read every entry since my daughter died on December 22, 2008, but I have never formally said how very very sorry I am that you do not have Silas in your arms. Thank you for sharing your story. Much love, Angie
April 24, 2009 at 10:04 am
luna
I am so very sorry for the loss of your beautiful son silas. thank you for sharing your story here, and his.
April 24, 2009 at 11:30 pm
wavybrains
My heart breaks for you. Silas shares the same birthdate as my daughter (she was born in 2007). I will keep your family in my heart and my thoughts from now on.
May 27, 2009 at 3:17 pm
reba
i am so sorry for the loss of your beautiful son silas. i followed a link here from another blog. i lost my twin daughter and son last year. as you already know, there will always be a hole in your heart for our lost babies whose eyes you will never get to see, whose voices you will never get to hear, and whose entire existance took place inside the womb. wishing you some type of peace.
February 3, 2010 at 10:43 pm
Lindsey
I found your site through glow in the woods. My husband and I also had a planned homebirth with two wonderfully supportive midwives. I went into labor at 42 weeks and labored at home for 7 hours. When my water broke, we had to transfer to the hospital because there was meconium in the amniotic fluid. We got there in plenty of time and I birthed my 8lb 10oz baby boy naturally. However, he was somehow cut off from oxygen as well sometime during birth and suffered massive brain damage. We had our sweet Andrew for 13 days before we had to remove life support. He passed away gently in our arms on December 19, 2009. My heart aches for you. I never imagined pain and emptiness like this existed. Please know how much your words are helping others like you.
May 30, 2010 at 7:52 pm
Rae
I found your site through Glow in the Woods. I am ashamed to even comment when I feel after reading your words that I have no right too. I have suffered infertility and recurrent miscarriage syndrome for many, many years. I married my husband in my 20’s and we started trying for a family a few years later. It took a long time to make it out of that unnatural, harrowing world of infertility. Our marriage has many battle wounds but is still solid. Reading your words and the words of other writers at Glow have helped me even though I have not suffered your terrible loss. Feeling compassion and empathy for others is healing on its own. I read your words and they displace my own grief over infertility and loss. I must focus on yours, which makes my own look so insignificant in comparison. So, I find myself sitting here praying and crying for you and your family. I am so inspired by your perseverence – how you put one foot in front of the other and make your way out in the world every day after this loss. I pray for your angel, Silas and your family and that you will be a parent very soon. I will keep reading and keep hoping. Hope is all we have, and you have, from what I can see, many hoping for you. Never give up on your hope to become a parent.
April 12, 2011 at 8:22 pm
Shaina Gadow
I found your site through Glow in the Woods and realize that noone has posted on here for about a year, actually the same month that I became pregnant with my son, Silas (May 2010), but I felt I needed to make a comment. I have been searching the web to find a story that is similar to mine to try and find some connection and to know that I am not alone in my experience and I came across your story. I am so very sorry for your loss and am taken aback to find the only other person I have found that shared my same experience (although I know there are more) also shared my son’s name. I know there are many, way too many, stillbirths that occur, but I couldn’t find people who experienced the loss of their child at the very end of their birthing experience. Again, I am so sorry for your loss and mine, but it brings comfort to me to know that I am not alone. I was induced on March 8, 2011 at 42 weeks pregnant (i also wanted a natural (but hospital) birth, but Silas was stubborn and didn’t want to come out. I had a long, very hard 36 hour labor, but Silas was fine up until the very end. I know that your Silas was eventually able to be resuscitated only to have severe brain damage, my Silas wasn’t able to be resuscitated. As of yet, I still don’t know the official reason why it happened and am sure I never will, but I am pretty sure that his cord became too compressed in the birth canal at the very end and he lost oxygen. Anyways, I am so thankful that you have shared your story.
Shaina
July 27, 2011 at 6:02 pm
megan snow
We lost our son Titus May17,2011 the same way. Reading your story is almost like reading my story exactly. Thankyou for your blog. There was so little about this on the internet i was beggining to think i was all alone.