Kyler Cras Moeai: Happy Birthday

Today Kyler would have been 5. Five years since I gave birth to my perfect angel boy. The pain is just as unbearable as the day he was born.

I have been working very hard to practice forgiveness.

Forgiveness of family members, friends who weren't supportive during my pregnancy, but mostly to forgive the doctor who delivered Kyler.

I've put off writing this post for 5 years, because it is an extremely difficult subject to think and talk about. It takes a lot of courage and energy to visit the trauma of his delivery, but I feel I must do so to move on and forgive.

As most of you know, Kyler had prune belly syndrome(PBS) which in short means his abdominal muscles didn't form. This resulted in his lungs not developing and there being very little amniotic fluid. Babies who are born with PBS have very large bellies, when the fluid is released it causes the abdomen to look like a prune.

We first got the diagnosis when I was 17 weeks. We were informed Kyler wasn't going to survive for very long after he was born.

Two weeks later Kendrick and I were married. We were trying to be as happy as we could, but we were hurting and anxious with the reality we were about to face together, constantly lingering in the back of our minds.

I was never advised to go to a specialist , according to our doctor, he wasn't going to survive anyways so it didn't matter (They may have worded it a little nicer, however that's not how I remember it).

I woke up the morning of May 9th with extreme back pain. We went to the hospital, where they confirmed I was in labor at 30 weeks. They said that considering my circumstance they weren't going to stop labor.

How do you prepare for both the birth and death of your baby? I wasn't ready.

The next little bit is a blur:

I was finally dilated to a 10 and it was time to push. They asked me if I wanted to take the monitors off so I couldn't hear his heart beat. I agreed, which now I am very thankful for. I pushed for about an hour with nothing. The doctor left the room and didn't return for what felt like a very long time. When he came back, we were annoyed and confused but also relieved that he was back so I could continue to push.

I pushed and pushed and pushed and pushed.

The room started to get chaotic, next thing I knew there were 10+ nurses and doctors in the room trying to figure out how to get Kyler out. I felt like I was in a fog, confused and scared. I was put on oxygen because I was exhausted from pushing. They told me every time I would push, Kyler's head would start to come out and then get sucked back in.

Next thing I knew, the doctor was cutting the umbilical cord. One of the nurses told me the reason they couldn't get Kyler out was because of his large belly. I saw a large needle, they said they were going to use it to get some of the fluid out of Kyler's belly. That needle didn't work so they tried another needle, and another. I saw my husbands face turn white as he watched them insert needle after needle through my stomach to get to Kyler.

I passed out. I came to. I was confused, angry, disoriented, and heartbroken.

I don't know when Kyler passed away.

I felt that I was robbed from seeing my baby boy alive.

I have many questions. Why didn't the doctor do a C section? Why didn't they research PBS before I delivered? Why didn't my doctor stay with me during my whole delivery?

I felt that since Kyler's diagnosis was fatal, the doctors didn't put the effort into finding the best solution to delivering him. There were many mistakes that were made, and a lot of heartache that could have been prevented.

These last 5 years I have attempted to sort through my emotions and have tried to heal from the trauma.

I think about the pain Kyler must have gone through, every day. It haunts me. I feel guilty I couldn't protect him. I feel guilty I was so overwhelmed that I couldn't stand up for him.

I feel angry that we couldn't grieve in peace because we were trying to recover from such a traumatic delivery.

I feel sad for my husband and mother. They saw a lot of things that day that they shouldn't have.

I have felt sorrow for my husband who wanted to prevent what was happening, but was helpless watching by my side. I know he still struggles to this day thinking of what all took place. I feel guilty I couldn't give Kyler a peaceful delivery.

However, I feel tremendous gratitude for the nurses, especially my doula, who despite the chaos, remained calm through the storm. They truly saved us.

The doctor came into our room the day after to apologize, at that point, the apology fell on deaf ears. The damage was done, and there was nothing that could take back what we had seen and been through.

I wasn't strong enough to forgive him that day, I don't think I was ready.

It wasn't until the weeks leading up to September 19, 2016, that the life of my children again were in the hands of another doctor. The memory of Kyler's delivery made the thought of putting my twins lives in a doctors hands again very worrisome. The twins began having severe complications to the point we believed we would lose one, if not both. However, thanks to the constant attention from such caring doctors and nurses that we believe(d) in, our two boys were born at 30 weeks, small but healthy and full of life.

All my boys were born at 30 weeks.
One very traumatic and the other very healing. I truly believe life has a way of coming full circle.

I realize I had become a hostage to the past by replaying May 9, 2013, over and over in my mind. It plagued a lot of memories of Kyler, and that wasn't fair. I am ready to make room for compassion and understanding in my heart. Kyler was more than his delivery. He was a blessing in our lives, strengthened our family, and gave me an understanding of love I never felt possible.

I choose to remember the good.

I choose to remember my Kyler.

I forgive.

Release. Let it go. It's time to heal.