HALIFAX—“I’m so sorry. There’s no heartbeat.”

It was March 27, 2018 when a pregnant Samantha Galvin heard those words during a routine 26-week ultrasound appointment at Halifax’s IWK Health Centre.

“I immediately screamed. I said, ‘My baby. I want my baby. What did I do wrong?’ Instantly I thought it was because of me. My husband actually had to come over and physically hold me down,” Galvin recalled.

Sitting at the dining room table at her home in Cole Harbour just outside Halifax, Galvin’s eyes well up as she revisits that tragic day. A lot has happened in the past year. Galvin, 31, has become a passionate advocate for raising awareness about stillbirths. In addition, IWK hospital officials have acted on some of her simple recommendations to help make things a little easier for women who have a stillborn baby.

Galvin, a child protection worker, and her husband Dominique (Dom), a firefighter, had been trying to conceive for four years when she learned she was pregnant. Until the day she found out her baby had no heartbeat, Galvin’s pregnancy had been “picture perfect.”

In the ultrasound room, minutes before their world came crashing down, Dom had no way of knowing a conversation he’d just struck up would soon become his reality. As his wife waited for the doctor to finish the ultrasound, he was telling a resident he was saddened to hear the news about former Ottawa Senators blueliner and all-star NHL defenceman Erik Karlsson.

Karlsson’s wife had delivered a stillborn son just days before.

“He (Dom) was there talking about how he just couldn’t imagine losing a baby,” Galvin recalled. “He’s sitting on the other side of the room and he doesn’t know what’s happening. I just start screaming as he was talking about the story of Erik Karlsson.”

It was shortly after 9 a.m. The doctor apologized and promised to try to figure out what happened. But they needed access to a more high-tech ultrasound room on another floor to let them know when the baby had died.

That room wasn’t available until 1:30 p.m.

“We were sent home and in this big panic you don’t think of stating what your needs are. Like, ‘I need to stay, it’s not safe for us to leave.’ We had no idea,” she said.

“We get in the car and we’re driving like zombies. We didn’t even know the gender at this point. We’re calling family saying, “Can anyone come?’ We’re from Montreal, so we don’t have any family here.”

When they returned to the hospital that afternoon, they found themselves on a floor filled with pregnant women waiting for ultrasounds.

“It’s just this reliving of this trauma and it’s this instant anger and jealousy and guilt all at the same time,” she recalled. “How is it that their babies are OK and mine’s not? What did I do wrong? How didn’t this get caught?”

The second ultrasound determined their baby girl had died less than two days earlier. Galvin was told she had to be induced to deliver the child, but the only hospital room set aside for stillbirths was occupied by another couple. She had to go home and wait.

Two days later she received the call and returned to the IWK. After a 26-hour labour, Galvin delivered her stillborn daughter on March 30. She and Dom named her Sloane Marie.

The medical definition of a stillbirth is an infant born without any signs of life after 20 weeks of pregnancy or weighing more than 500 grams. This is either because the baby died during the pregnancy or during labour or delivery.

According to Statistics Canada, seven out of every 1,000 pregnancies in Canada result in a stillbirth. In Nova Scotia, that number is eight out of every 1,000 pregnancies, which averages out to about six a month.

“I was very, very surprised … Knowing that it happens so often in Nova Scotia alone, I was taken aback completely. I said there has to be a bigger community out there that we can reach out to, but it’s difficult finding the stillbirth community,” Galvin said.

“There’s a lot of awareness around miscarriage where they say it happens to one in four. There’s tons of organizations and support for children who die in the NICU (neonatal intensive care unit). But nobody talks about stillbirth … It’s uncomfortable for people.”

Galvin couldn’t have an epidural during labour and was instead put on a hydromorphone drip for pain management. That means she doesn’t remember the six hours she spent with her stillborn daughter. The only thing she remembers is the nurse telling her it was time to let her daughter go.

“I have no recollection. My husband does, and he’ll tell me bits and pieces. But without a picture I can’t remember what she looks like. I don’t remember holding her,” she said.

Dom shares his memories of her holding Sloane, reading her a book, playing a certain song, insistently requesting a rocking chair for the room, and other “motherly” things. But Galvin remembers nothing.

“It’s been a huge, huge gap in helping me heal, because I don’t have these pieces to put together,” she said. “I don’t have these memories, and there’s this guilt that as a mom I should have these memories and I should know more things about my baby.”

Their daughter’s autopsy was inconclusive. Galvin’s experience last March led her to advocate for a handful of changes at the IWK that will help future parents going through the heartache of a stillbirth.

The biggest of those changes was made possible by an online fundraising campaign the Galvins launched weeks after losing Sloane. Sometime in the next month, a $7,893 Caring Cradle will be delivered to the IWK Health Centre.

It’s designed to keep a stillborn baby cool to ward off decomposition long enough for the family to say goodbye.

The Nova Scotia Health Authority confirmed the IWK’s Caring Cradle will be the first device of its kind in a Nova Scotia hospital. Although the Colchester East Hants Health Centre was recently given money for one from a private donor, they haven’t bought it yet.

“It really did start off as me trying to find a way to parent her or to make some type of memory with Sloane because I didn’t have any,” Galvin said, tears springing to her eyes. “If her short time on this earth was for one thing, this is what it would be for. And it turned into so much more.”

Through the fundraiser, Galvin met other parents who shared their stories. Some were recent, while others lost children decades ago. Galvin said they inspired her to talk about Sloane, because parents often feel isolated and alone. Their children, she said, were stillborn. But they were still born.

“This is to bring awareness and a voice to all these other women to make these memories. Don’t feel ashamed. Don’t live in the dark. Don’t live in the shadows,” she said.

“This is your child. You became a mother and a father that day and nothing will take that away so enjoy it as much as you can.”

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The couple’s story took an unexpected turn when they found out Galvin was pregnant again. Her due date is July 5, the exact same day they’d been given for Sloane. Her pregnancy is now approaching the 30-week mark, four weeks past the point where she lost their daughter. She knows they’re having a boy this time, but said their happiness is tempered by apprehension.

“This was not planned and we had no fertility treatment, so we definitely believe this was some sort of gift from her,” Galvin said, breaking into a wide smile. “It has to be. There was this joy, but there’s this constant panic and anxiety that we can’t get too attached, we can’t get too excited.”

Perched in the centre of a display table in Galvin’s living room is a teddy bear that weighs exactly one pound, 12 ounces, the same as Sloane. They ordered it from the UK-based non-profit Molly Bears, which gives the bears free of charge to parents who’ve lost an infant.

To the Galvins, the smiling bear represents Sloane and it makes an appearance in family photos and at important events.

Dr. Lynne McLeod, head of the division of maternal fetal medicine in the department of obstetrics and gynecology at Dalhousie University, said stillbirths are more common than people realize.

“It’s not something that three times a year it happens. It happens to anyone, any time,” said McLeod, who is based at the IWK. “First pregnancy. Third pregnancy. You’re from Cape Breton. You’re from P.E.I. Unfortunately, there’s no one excluded from this possibility.”

In the months following Sloane’s death, McLeod was one of the hospital officials who met with the Galvins and helped implement some of their suggestions.

“This is a topic that just personally is really, really important for me as a care provider and I think this is a group of patients that really sometimes fall in that area of the shadows,” McLeod said. “It’s not about making it good, because it’s not good. But it’s about making it less traumatic, less difficult.”

She said having the Galvins share their concerns allowed them to make small changes to benefit future patients. McLeod applauded the couple’s passion, noting that while the hospital can’t change everything, there were some simple fixes.

They’ve changed pamphlets given to patients after Galvin discovered some of the phone numbers and resources were outdated.

They created a one-page information sheet specifically about stillbirths. In addition to a short message about the devastating experience, it also gives patients phone numbers to call with concerns or questions if they must wait before being induced.

McLeod said they also changed the location where women who’ve experienced stillbirth go for followup. She said avoiding the prenatal clinic or ultrasound floor is much less traumatic.

The IWK also listened to the Galvins’ concerns about the stillbirth room being too sterile. Galvin said it was devoid of a rocking chair, bassinet or any other “homey” touches.

Since then, McLeod said they have purchased two new “comfortable” fold-out chairs that patients have already found useful. The doctor also asked for a rocking chair, along with more comfortable blankets.

“I was very supportive of anything that could be helpful, if it helps one couple or five,” McLeod said.

When the Caring Cradle arrives in a few weeks, McLeod said staff will be trained how to use it before it is available to parents.

“We’ll never be able to work toward improving care for patients and families if we don’t have a conversation,” she said. “And if the public aren’t aware, then I think it’s hard to move forward.”

Galvin is grateful for the care she received at the IWK and thankful they acted on her concerns. Now she wants to create an organization dedicated to helping Nova Scotia parents who’ve lost a child due to a stillbirth. They plan to continue fundraising to redecorate the IWK stillbirth room and provide extra supplies for the memory boxes at the hospital.

These provide grieving parents with ink and paper to make handprints and footprints, a necklace that divides in two (one for the parents, one for the baby), and a hat. Galvin hopes to add moulds for hand and footprints, knit blankets parents can take home, books and other items. She also wants to help redecorate the stillbirth room.

When asked about her daughter’s legacy, Galvin pauses, smiles, and shares that she recently reached out to thank the photographer who joined them at Sloane’s birth.

“She said Sloane changed her life too, because it’s not every day you meet someone who has only done good in the world,” Galvin said. “And that’s it. Here we are coming with the Caring Cradle for the hospital and all these changes. She did all of that. That was Sloane’s purpose.”

Yvette d’Entremont is a Halifax-based reporter focusing on health. Follow her on Twitter: @ydentremont

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