One of the first things Cindy did when she find out that she was pregnant was to start to find a name.

She threw a lot of names to me, but no one was sticking in my head.

Because of Cindy’s leukemia and her 23 blood transfusions she had 10 years ago, we knew it was going to be a high-risk pregnancy.

Friday, after the 4th time we where back from the emergency room because of the pregnancy, Cindy started to urge me to agree on a name.

Saturday, she gave me a final notice. I had until midnight to decide between Victor, for “victoire” (victory) and Vincent, for “vainqueur” (winner/conqueror). Those names where meant to be a reminder for his struggle for life and our desire to see him alive.

We went to bed without a name.

Sunday morning, Cindy wakes up with cramps and a lot of vaginal bleeding. I had to rush her to the hospital. Again. The problem was that we were supposed to move in our new apartment the same day. The truck and the mover where going to be at my parents’ cottage at 10h30, and someone had to be there to take care of that. By some kind of luck, her father was in town. He lives in Abitibi, 10 hours from Quebec City.

I dropped them both at the hospital. While they are walking away from the car, I open the door of the car and I shout: “VICTOR!!”. I then drove to the cottage.

An hour latter, my cellphone ring. Léon, Cindy’s father, has an emotional tone.

“Come back to the hospital. There will be no baby. We are going to lose him”.

I ask my father to take care of the movers. “We are going to lose the baby”

My father looks for something to hold to not fall.

“I just had a chill from at the bottom of my spine,” he tells me.

And then it’s my mother to hear about it. She doesn’t say a thing. She just puts her hand over her mouth with her eyes wide open. Just like if she have seen a ghost.

I jump into my car and drive back to the hospital.

Less than 30 minutes later, I’m in the room.

Léon comes to me while a nurse talk to my panicked Cindy. His eyes are red and humid.

He quickly briefs me: they will have to take the baby out soon.

I go see Cindy. She cries and cries and cries. She shouts. “No! No! I can’t! I don’t want to! I did not want them to deliver it before you would be there. Every nurse and doctor that came into the room, I shout at them to not touch me before you would be there”

Now that I was there, the nurse came to see if Cindy was ready to deliver. After several minutes of denial, she said yes. It’s at this moment that Vicky arrived. She is her cousin and lost 3 babies, all of them just 2 weeks before the delivery. She was going to be a precious help.

The doctor arrived and set up his thing. She did not had to push too long, Victor was out with a lot of cries from everyone.

Victor was still alive and lived for one hour. They ask us if we wanted to see and take him. We agreed.

We took pictures and we had him with us for several hours. While he was still alive, we saw him move is legs, his arms, and open his mouth. He fought a hopeless fight for his life for an hour. Nothing could be done to save him at 19 weeks.

I know, it might sound very morbid for most of you. That is what I though too at first. Now, the doctors strongly encourage the families to take as long as they need with the baby. They will never take it away: it will be to the mother - and the father - to decide when they are ready to leave him. It really helps to goes through the process of accepting the death of the baby.

35 years ago, my mother lost a baby at 20 weeks, just like us. At that time, it was not the same. She begged and cried to see the baby, but they did not want her to see it. 35 years later, her grievance was not complete. Sunday, she looked at Victor and held him for a while. She said that it really helped her for what she went through back then.

I could tell you all about the tears we had and the tears to come, the sleepless night we just went through at the hospital and everything else. But I guess this is not the point of this post.

I however really want to stress out how much the nurses helped us. Nathalie and Réjeanne are the two most empathic persons I ever met. I was there for Cindy, to hold her and listen to her. But there is no way I could listen and talk to her like they did.  A calm, reassuring voice, with gentle touch and stroke. They really know what they are doing. Each time they talked to her, she quickly went from panicked cry to... to... Well, not to “party mode”, but you get the point.  

For those of you back there in Windsor, if you ever need an OB, I strongly suggest you to go see Doctor Rahi Victory on Princess Street in Leamington. He his one of the best doctor we stumble into, both on the medical and humane side. Thank you Dr. Victory for everything you did for us.