Six Seconds Mother Transforms Loss Into A Pleasant Memory
Tracy and Rick Zint were finished having babies. Two boys were enough. Connor was 15 months old; Tad was 5. The couple gave away all the baby clothes and set an appointment to have Tracy's tubes tied. Rick started worrying about the anesthesia, so they canceled the procedure. They had no idea Tracy was three days pregnant the day she would have had surgery. The couple live in the West Side house Rick grew up in. Rick, 33, works two jobs so Tracy, 32, can stay home with the kids. Tracy's period was late, so she bought a home pregnancy test on July 6. She was still nursing Connor when she read the stick. "It was like Yay!' and Oh no!' all at once," she said. She wasn't ready for another baby, but if God gave her one, he must want her to have one.
"We're pregnant," she told Rick. He grinned. "Really, or are you messin' with me?" he asked. She showed him the stick. "You good?" he asked. "Yeah, I'm good," she said. When Tad heard the news, he yelled, "Yay! Now I'm going to be a bigger brother." Tracy grew excited when she learned her sister, Erica, was due two weeks after her. They compared bellies, grew fat together and planned a double baby shower. At Tracy's Aug. 20 doctor's appointment, she heard the fetal heartbeat and fell in love.
The baby was 20 weeks along when Tracy went in for an ultrasound on Oct. 20. The grainy picture hid the baby's sex. Two days later, the doctor called. The blood work and ultrasound showed something wrong, possibly Trisomy 18, an extra chromosome. Tracy heard the words "unable to sustain life." Her friend searched the Internet for information. All of it was bad. The birth defect shows up in 1 out of 6,000 births. In 95 percent of the cases, the baby is stillborn. Tracy's doctor referred her to a high-risk obstetrician at University Hospitals, Dr. Nancy Judge. The day of the Oct. 25 appointment for a higher-definition ultrasound, the baby sitter fell through, so Richard had to stay home with Connor. Tracy went alone. As the wand moved across her abdomen, Tracy wept. The baby looked beautiful. It was a boy. "My three sons," she thought. The pictures were so clear, she could see every knuckle. The woman doing the test said little. She was looking at a medical disaster. Tumors consumed the under-developed brain. The umbilical cord was missing an artery. There was a hole in the heart.
Dr. Judge came in. Tracy told her she hadn't wanted to worry until she had something to worry about. The doctor told her it was time to worry. The baby was 20½ weeks along - halfway to birth. Tracy had two choices: Continue the pregnancy and wait for him to die or get an abortion. Abortion wasn't an option. She had already fallen in love with the baby. "He's there. Fingers, toes, nose, eyes, mouth, everything," she said. "He's there." She went into the bathroom and sobbed. The doctor did a test of the amniotic fluid and Tracy left.
She called Rick from the car with the bad news. Then she called her mom, who said, "God only gives special babies to special people." Tracy didn't consider herself special, but she knew the baby was. She decided, if God wanted to take the baby before he was born, so be it. But she would carry him as long as possible. That night she showed Rick the ultrasound pictures. "Whatever you want to do," he told her. Before going to bed, she wrote, "It's a Boy" on her Anne Geddes baby calendar. The print above showed three babies curled in a ball. She wrote in her journal, "How can I go through this knowing that in the end we will have to bury you? I'll pray so hard that God lets you look into mine and Daddy's eyes. That He lets you take a couple of breaths in our arms. Everything is in God's hands. I hope He hears me." Rick held her as she cried herself to sleep.
Mom Just Wants Time With Child
Six seconds. That's all she asked for. Six seconds to look into his eyes, to feel his warmth, to hear his breaths. Was that too much to hope for?
Tracy savored the pregnancy, every kick, every hiccup. She told only a few people about the fatal birth defect. She didn't want to hear condolences yet. In her journal on Oct. 28 she wrote: "Today I took you to your 1st circus. I know you could not see anything, but I think you could either hear it or you felt the rumbles of excitement. You were really moving around. " She knew she would never get to play with the baby, so when she wrestled with Connor and Tad, she patted her belly to include him. Tad hugged her belly to feel his brother kick and saved toys for the baby. But Tracy didn't buy anything.
The full news hit her on Nov. 1. The amnio test confirmed the baby had full Trisomy 18, not partial. She stopped writing in her journal that day. She was afraid what she might say. "Oh, how I love you. Please don't leave me," was her last entry. Two days later, her sister learned she was expecting a boy. One day while shopping for scrapbook materials, Tracy broke down. Her sister was buying material for a lifetime of memories. At least Tracy had a name. She called him Baby Ricky, after his father.
When December came along, the fetal heart rate began to gradually fall. Ricky might be stillborn. "How can God do this to me?" Tracy cried to her mom. "Why give him if I can't keep him?" The doctor set a date to induce labor. The baby couldn't wait until the March 10 due date. The last ultrasound showed the baby was feet first. Tracy didn't want the six-week recovery from a C- section, but she would exchange that for six seconds with him. They set the surgery for the day after her sister's baby shower. Tracy set aside her own grief and made the centerpieces and gift bags for the baby games. Then she made her own arrangements. She and Rick picked out a plot at Holy Cross Cemetery. On Feb. 6, she went to her sister's baby shower. The next day, Tracy gave birth.
Family Savors Every Moment
Tracy told the doctors at Southwest General Health Center that she didn't want the baby on any machines. A little oxygen for comfort, that was all. She knew he couldn't be saved, and she wanted to enjoy every precious second. When the doctor pulled the baby out, she heard someone say, "He's so beautiful." The doctor lifted him over the surgical drape. Tracy could see a full head of chocolate brown hair. Rick's father poured holy water over the baby's head and baptized him, in the name of the Father, the Son, the Holy Ghost. The doctors suctioned the baby and gave him oxygen. Rick held the baby next to Tracy's face. She stroked the tiny cheek. "Keep going," she pleaded. "A little bit longer. Mommy loves you." He let out one soft cry and opened one sleepy eye. He breathed in shallow puffs. She examined every finger, every toe, every hair, every wrinkle. Then someone said his heart beat was down to 10. She told them it was OK to re move the oxygen. Richard Gerad Zint was born at 5:17 p.m. He died at 5:50 p.m. He lived 33 minutes. He died in his father's arms. His brothers got to hold him. Connor pointed to his face and squealed, "Nose!" Tracy told Tad they wouldn't be taking Baby Ricky home. "He's an angel now," she said.
Baby Ricky Not Forgotten
Every night when she tucks in Tad, they say prayers. "One for Mommy, one for Daddy, one for Connor." Then they blow a kiss to the sky. "And one for Baby Ricky." "My three sons," Tracy said. "All I prayed for was six seconds. I got 33 minutes. I'm so lucky."
9:30:49 AM 
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