On September 13th, 2019 my son Christopher Gould Casale was born into heaven. Christopher was 33 weeks gestation and died from his umbilical cord getting wrapped around his neck.
I was not supposed to be able to get pregnant, but due to a medical error made by a surgeon during a previous surgery; I found myself pregnant with Christopher. I was going through cancer treatment at the time for Metastatic Melanoma, and had to make the decision to stop the treatment in order to continue with the pregnancy.
Early on Christopher had some struggles, his heart rate was slow enough to concern the doctors, and his growth was slow. We had limited medical information from his father’s side of the family making it harder to rule out medical conditions that he could be predisposed to.
I cried a lot during the first few months, fearing that I didn’t stop the cancer medication in time for him to be healthy, and worrying about the unknown medical history. As the weeks and months went on, his heart rate picked up and he was doing well. I began to enjoy every second of the pregnancy. I fell in love with this little boy as I learned all of his little habits. I knew when he had the hiccups, or when he was startled. I knew that he liked to sleep during the day, and he liked to wake me up at 4:00am every morning with his kicking. When he would wake me up, I would sing him back to sleep. He responded to the sound of my voice, and it was such an amazing feeling.
Late in the evening of September 12th, I knew something was wrong. My normally very active baby boy was not moving. Nothing I did to solicit any movement worked. I was filled with a huge sense of dread as I went to the hospital, I knew something wasn’t right. When they did an ultrasound at the hospital my worst fear was realized. I didn’t need them to tell me, I could see it on the screen myself. There was no familiar kicking, no heartbeat. My son was gone. I worried about him having an undiagnosed medical condition. I worried about him being affected by the cancer medication. I worried about my body failing him due to my own medical issues. But I never would have worried about him dying from his umbilical cord.
I was upset with myself as a nurse for not knowing that something like that could happen. It all seemed like a bad dream. I had carried him for over 8 months and now that was coming to an end, and I wouldn’t be taking him home with me. I delivered my beautiful boy and the nurse wrapped him in a blanket and placed him in my arms. I looked down into this perfect face and wondered how anyone could ever get past this type of pain. He had my mouth and my cheeks and his father’s nose. I unwrapped the blanket and memorized every perfect feature, knowing I would never see him again. I cried, my heart breaking with an indescribable pain. I sang to him, told him how much I loved him. I kissed him, trying to get in a lifetime of kisses in the time I had. Leaving the hospital was very hard, knowing I was leaving my son behind. I would never wish this kind of pain on anyone. I will always be Christopher’s mother and I will always feel as if I failed him in some way. The guilt that follows when your baby dies can’t be measured. I am grateful for every second I carried him inside me, and every second that I got to hold him and talk to him. I will never forget the way his face felt under my lips as I kissed every perfect feature. The experience has left me forever changed.
