My Bittersweet Day

And so we begin my annual introspection of how this year is different from last year and the year before that.

Two years ago today, I had just found out that we were not going to have a baby in November. I listened to my own heartbeat go out of control while we tried to find a tiny baby heartbeat. I saw a lifeless, perfectly formed baby on an ultrasound machine. My clearest memory is of his tiny ribcage.

One year ago today, I was strapped all over with monitors, but we found that perfect heartbeat and it stayed steady. I couldn’t stop smiling. Even when the pain was crazy and I thought I wouldn’t be able to do it, it was still a great day.

Two years ago tomorrow, I was put to sleep and woke up alone and cried. It was the worst day of my life.

One year ago tomorrow, I was given some extra drugs to block out the pain as the c-section started. I woke up surrounded by people and cried. It was the best day of my life.

I’m sorry I sound so crazy, but it’s such a crazy time for me. I’m so excited about celebrating W’s birthday tomorrow (and this weekend!). But I still just need to sit and think about who isn’t here. And because that little boy isn’t here, I have W. I have weird, conflicting emotions about this. I’m getting better at dealing with it all.

That Day in May.

I’d been having a kind of emotional day on Mother’s day. Anyone who has struggled knows the pain that this day can bring. I found myself in tears at several points. And I felt guilty. I never had a difficult Mother’s day. I was so lucky to be one of the few who doesn’t have to go through the day while suffering a loss or waiting for a baby. I was remembering Mother’s day 2009 and how that was the day we announced to the world that Baby November was on his way. How I had no idea what was coming. How baby November was already in heaven.

I cried for that girl and her family.

I cried tears of joy for that same girl who spent Mother’s Day 2010 walking around a community lake trying to get labor started.

I cried grateful tears for the little boy who was giving me drooly open mouth kisses.

I cried painful tears for some dear friends who would give anything for drooly open mouth kisses.

I wish I knew that there would be a day in the future where this all comes to an end. It seemed for a while that things were looking up. Lots of the girls I followed had babies. Lots of my the girls in my online support group had babies. But then I start reading new stories. And the girls in my group that are still waiting are having so much trouble. It’s not over.

Lots of love to all the moms out there who are missing babies.

A valentine

Faces of Loss presented this monthly challenge:
February’s topic: Valentine's Day is quickly approaching. Write about something special a friend, family member, or other loved one did for you after your baby(ies) died that really touched your heart.

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This post is a long time coming. Sometimes my posts turn into love fests for my friends, but this one is going start out that way. It might get gushy.

I’ve posted about this friend before. She’s made comments. We’re friends in real life. Back in that summer of 2009, she let me know that she had found my blog. I knew that she was following other blogs in this community, so that wasn’t a surprise. It was hard to decide to start writing when I knew a real-life friend would probably discover what I wrote. I didn’t want to ever edit my feelings or be afraid to share something. So I sat for a while and decided that I knew she was compassionate enough not to judge me if I said something crazy. I knew she wouldn’t go around and tell everyone what a nutter I was for *still* being sad. And I was right.

This friend made me feel better on the day I sent the email to my friends telling them that my baby was dead. I remember typing that up and crying and hoping that no one would call me. I think I even put in there that I didn’t want to talk to anyone about it.

I kept her reply. It was perfect.

“I am holding you in my mind. Holding you in a safe place where you are allowed to feel anything, say anything, and be the way you need to be right now.”

We all have the problem of real-life friends not quite understanding what’s happening in our brains. We have to listen to them say crappy stuff. I have a lot of wonderful people in my life and I didn’t have to deal with that much. But to have someone who could understand me in my daily life is truly unique. I’m blessed to have this friend around me.

Having W was a turning point in my life. I’ve said over and over how different emotions kind of knock me out every now and then. I wouldn’t change anything about my life because it got me here, and my losses got me to him. He is everything to me. How can I love him so much and be thankful for him while knowing that I only have him because my other two babies died? How can I honor their memories while also saying that I wouldn’t change anything because of him?

My friend gave me this bracelet when she met W. And it is perfect. I keep it in my pocket almost all of the time. I can’t wear it because of tiny grabby hands, but I reach in and squeeze it. It’s one of my most prized possessions.

Perfect. My baby’s name. His birthstone. Two tiny pomegranate memories at each end. Perfect.

Thank you for being my friend.

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My Faces of Loss Page

The day I found out my friend found my blog

The Common Thread

My friend's aunt's store

Due Date - Year 2

So right about now I should be celebrating a first birthday. I should have a funny little boy just starting to run around and I should be exhausted. But I don’t. Don’t feel bad for me, though. I miss that little boy so much and I still cry for him. But this year is so much better than last year. I kind of feel guilty talking about sadness now. I say that a lot here. I’m sad. I’m happy. I want both babies. It’s so conflicting, so I’ll just leave it there. I’ll be thinking about my little Baby November tomorrow, just like I always do.

I just went and read my post from last year. I kind of feel exactly the same. So sad, but so happy.

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Thank you for all the supportive comments about W’s surgery. He’s doing so much better. He’s healing. He might be teething. I went to a MOPS meeting last night and M texted me “W is officially teething.” I rushed home hoping to see something. Nope. Apparently W was just “acting like Satan.” M said his gums felt warm. I stuck my finger in his mouth this morning and couldn’t feel anything. I wish I could take a look, but W won’t open his mouth ever.

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It seems like miscarriages are everywhere right now. Maybe I’m just more sensitive to it. Celebrities are talking about them. A friend just lost her baby at 15 weeks. I’m devastated for her and her family. It takes me right back to that terrible summer and I want to scream thinking that people are just beginning that journey that seems to get worse every day.

There’s that word. Devastating. Every time you see a miscarriage in the news, it is proceeded by devastating. So-and-so suffered a devastating miscarriage prior to this pregnancy. I thought at first that this was kind of redundant. All miscarriages are devastating. To put that word there makes the miscarriage alone sound like it might be ok. It’s not. But then, maybe it is right to have it. To hammer in to the everyone else how bad it really is. Maybe the word miscarriage should be changed to devastatingmiscarriage. Yes, I think that sounds about right. Instead of saying, “I had a miscarriage last year,” I will say, “ I had a devastatingmiscarriage last year.”

October 15th

Just like last year, October 15th is hitting me harder than I expected. But now I’m not just crying for me. I’m sad for all the moms (dads, too) who are still in the dark days of grieving. The parents who are still have fresh pain.

I’ve been reading almost every story on Faces of Loss/Faces of Hope. I can’t read all of them – it’s so much sadness packed into one place. Sometimes I have to skim to keep from crying at work. But I acknowledge each woman, each loss, each heartbreak. That’s why we post those stories. When I first was dealing with the pain of losing my baby, I spent so much time reading other people’s stories. It really did help to know that other people were out there and they had been through the same thing. They knew what I was feeling and some of them had gone on to have babies. It gave me hope. I put my story on the page and I have had a few girls reach out to me. I’ve reached out to some that have stories similar to mine. I love the idea of everyone posting in one place. I hate the idea that they have over 450 posts in less than 4 months.

I posted about today on facebook just in case someone I know is feeling like they are alone. I’m writing here on my blog and I’ll spend lots of time today with my Babycenter friends, remembering how we felt last year and how far we’ve come. And how so many of us are still struggling.

Lots of love and hugs today. So many posts will be reflecting on babies we barely got to meet. I’ve got a feeling it’s going to be a tearful day.

Not forgetting

I went to see Eclipse yesterday. Finally. I’m so lame! I wore my New Moon t-shirt. I was happy to be caught up. Whew. I was excited about the previews. Why? Because I was expecting to see the Harry Potter preview. They didn’t show it. Crap heads.

What I did see was a preview for Charlie St. Cloud. It’s not a movie I want to see. I cried during the preview. Not because of the story, but how I could see myself in that role. The basic story (no spoilers – this is just the preview): Zac Efron promises his little brother that they will practice baseball together every night until Zac leaves for college. Then the little brother dies in a car accident. Zac can still see him and they play baseball every evening. Then Zac meets a girl and he starts falling in love and thinks about his brother less and less. Then the girl starts interfering with the baseball playing. The little brother gets angry.

Can you see the parallels to our lives? When I lost my baby, I promised to never forget him. I promised to love him always and think about him all the time. But then W came along. W, who is right in front of me all of the time. Who smiles at me and sleeps in my arms. When I was pregnant, I found myself thinking about the lost baby a little less. Once W was out and with me, I could go a full day without thinking about the lost baby. When I do think about him, I add in some guilt with the sadness. It’s not that I love him less, but… but… what can I say here? I love that baby, but he’s not here. I love W with every cell in my body.

I think the movie is supposed to be about moving on from your losses. I love my dead grandparents, but I don’t think of them every day. I don’t love M’s living grandparents instead of the dead ones. I don’t love W instead of my lost baby. I love them both. Am I moving on from my loss? I hope I’m not forgetting. I don’t want to ever forget, but I do think I’ve learned to live with the loss. I guess that is moving on. I am living in the now instead of the what-might-have-been.

I’m hoping that the baby boy I lost isn’t looking down on me with jealousy or anger. I hope he’s happy to see that we have such a happy family now and he’s encouraging us to fully enjoy our life as it is. I have to believe that.

What a difference a year makes

I'm working on the rest of my birth story and hospital stay and I'll post those soon. But I just realized that my blog is a year old. Wow. I never, ever thought I would be here now. Last year I was sitting in my cold office writing to calm myself down so I wouldn't cry through the day. This year I'm in my cozy basement rocking a baby to sleep to give me a few more minutes here.

I'd love to have that first baby here with me now, but I would never, ever change what I have now. I am so in love with this little guy. He's everything I ever dreamed of and he's made me fall in love with life all over again. He's worth all the pain from last year.

I started reading blogs and got some hope from girls who were on the other side. I wondered what it would be like to not worry about losing a pregnancy anymore. Now here I am. I'm a success story. You can be afraid for 10 months and get through it with the support here. It is possible.

I'm still afraid. I wake up constantly during the night and listen for his breathing. I reach into the bassinet just to touch him and feel his chest rise and fall. I'll never stop worrying about him.

Thank you again for getting me to this side of the rainbow. I hope all of you will be here soon.

40 Weeks

Hi! It's my due date! Where's that baby???

The good: I've made it to a fully cooked little (big?) baby! We're both healthy and happy. One of us is a little too happy... I am fully prepared to have a child in this house. I have cereal now.

The bad: Well, it's my due date and the baby is still in my belly. That's not why I was counting down to today!

The ugly: Me. I'm not in too bad shape, but I know poor M must think I'm gross. I'm just really a huge lump of sweat and farts that has to pee a lot. He's being nice and pushing my butt to help me get off the couch. But I'm gross and I know it.

The Appointment:
I did not gain any weight this week. This is the first thing I've had that I can find on my "what happens before labor list" that we get in childbirth class. The Drill Sergent told us that we would stop gaining weight or loose a little right before we have the baby. I am pretending that it doesn't matter that this was a morning appointment and I usually am in there right after lunch.

I measured myself with the tape before the doctor got in there because they never tell me where I am. It said 39 weeks. M said that means I have another week. I told him to never talk to me again. Then the doctor came in. She said I measured on time. I am 3-4 cm dilated and the baby is "way up there." So that's progress and I know I won't have to worry about going to the hospital and having them tell me I'm at a 1. That would suck.

I asked her about work and told her I stopped going on Friday. She said to just leave the disability forms at the front desk and they'll get them filled out for me. That's a great thing. Now I won't feel (semi)guilty about not working this week. And I can get another week out of my very crappy short term disability.

Then we started talking induction. I wanted to go as soon as possible. She said Tuesday. One of us is a doctor, so that person wins. I am currently waiting for a phone call from the nurse to get that scheduled.

Then for the fun! I got a Non Stress Test, which was awesome. I got to curl up in a huge comfy recliner and listen to the baby's heart beat for 20 minutes. M got to sit with me on a wooden chair. He had to pee, but he was afraid he'd miss something. So he just sat with me the whole time. I called my mom so she could hear the monitor and she liked it. The doctor took a look at the chart and pronounced us good. The heart beat was steady the whole time.

Next was an ultrasound to check the fluid. The baby looks SO different now. I couldn't tell what anything was, not even the head. We were on an old machine, so you can't really see much anyway, but she measured the fluid pockets and checked the position. Everything is perfect.

I guess I couldn't ask for anything more. We're both doing great, so there is no need to induce me now. That's a good thing (I keep telling myself). And with this much dilation... I could still go at any time (right?).

The emotional stuff: So, May 18th (Tuesday, induction day) is exactly one year since we found out our baby died. The worst day of my entire life. I could be leaving the hospital with a new baby one year after leaving with no baby. This is kind of hard for me to take. I told M I didn't really want the baby born on the 18th or 19th because those are bad days for me. But I also think that maybe it will be ok... I mean, it's like having a baby on Sept 11... it brings some good back into that day. Something positive.

One year ago

It's so weird to think back to myself a year ago. May 4, 2009 was the last time I saw my little boy alive on the ultrasound screen. It was such a great day. I remember calling our parents and squealing about how cute he was. We knew he'd here in November. We started telling everyone. I now know that he passed away a few days later, while we were still sharing the happy news.

I am not where I thought I would be now. I'm not sure how I'll feel as the actual anniversary arrives. I hope it turns out a lot like his due date, where I felt that he would want me to be happy with all the great news I was having. I hope that I'll feel at peace on May 18th and feel him looking down at us as a new little family of three. He won't be the one we'll be hugging and holding and loving, but he'll be in our hearts.

Of course, I still have a tiny voice telling me I'm not out of the woods yet. This baby still has to make it to the day it (finally) decides to be born. Then the delivery has to go well. And all the other unknowns have to line up. I'm afraid. But hopeful. And looking forward to something great.

We will prevail

Today is another remembering day for me (and lots of others). April 16, 2007 is high on the list of the saddest days in my life. I’m thinking of all those families missing their children or their parents. I remember feeling so shaken, that something like this could happen at a place that I hold so close to my heart. The Virginia Tech campus has always been a safe place for me, like home, where you just feel free to breathe. Could one person take that away from all of us? I don’t think he did. We’ve been to Blacksburg twice since the shootings. The first time was hard – we walked through the memorial and wondered how engineering students spent their days now that Norris Hall doesn’t have classes anymore. I have so many memories (not all good) of that building – classes and tests and stress and friends. I got asked out on a date in there. You know how when you read a book and you picture the setting, and that setting is usually a place you are familiar with? When I read a book that has a classroom scene, it is always a classroom in Norris Hall. You can’t even look at that building, in the center of campus, without remembering.


I guess you never really lose the fear that something will happen to your child. I was afraid last night when the baby wouldn’t wake up for M when he finally had a minute to relax. I was fairly sure all was well – I’d just felt hiccups 10 minutes before. I’ll always be nervous when this baby is out of my sight. I’ll have to trust that s/he will grow up with a strong sense of right and wrong, but what about other people? I can’t always be there…

So all you Hokies out there … Let’s Go! Hokies!

Who ever thought that a football cheer would stir up so many emotions?

My Tree

Friday was a bad day.

We were getting ready to have our neighbors over for dinner when M came up the stairs and told me that the deer had eaten our little tree. I thought he meant a sad holly we planted a few years ago that just can't seem to keep up. He didn't. He meant the little tree in the backyard that my mom gave us in May. The little tree that I almost think of as my son.

I cried. I'm still crying.

I know he's not really in the tree, but I feel like I failed him. I went out during the snow storms to make sure the little tree was still upright, I watered it all summer. I love that tree.

And I failed him. I left it unprotected and now it looks like a sad stick in the ground.

I cried the kind of sobs that make husbands cry. He tried to calm me down because he didn't want me to do any harm to our new baby, but I couldn't stop. Then he did what men do best. He fixed the problem. He stood up and said, "Let's go." We went to home depot and bought a little wire fence and he installed it immediately, even though he should have been preparing dinner for our friends.

I'm still so sad about this, but I can't stop feeling grateful for M. I heard him go outside this morning to check on the tree. He already is the best father in the world. I am so lucky to have him.

100th post

Today is my 4 year wedding anniversary and my 100th post!

Happy Anniversary, M. I’m not going to post a mushy love letter to him here, but I’m so lucky to have him as a husband. I’d be a disaster without him. I promise I don’t really want to name our kid Heathcliff.

For my 100th post, here is an idea I stole from Kym:

I played around with this back in the summer and the picture was totally different. This isn't totally filled with positive words, but miscarriage is pretty small now and happy is getting bigger.

I saw a kick from the outside yesterday. Of course M wasn't watching, but I saw it!

Updated: Here is the link to Wordle. I used their site to make my fun word jumble.

January 10, 2009

One year ago, I woke up in the middle of the night to severe cramping and lost my first baby. I was 5 weeks and 3 days pregnant. I knew it was coming and I'd been waiting a few days with only a little hope. I had no idea what to expect. I couldn't stop crying.

Last night, I woke up in the middle of the night because a new baby was moving around all over the place. I couldn't stop smiling.

I couldn't be happier about where I am today and the contrast between myself one year ago and myself today is immeasurable.

My hopes are high right now. I hope that I'll be posting a similar thought on May 18th. One year after the worst days of my life, I hope to be experiencing the best days.

19 Weeks

Nineteen is a big number, but it’s still not as exciting as next week will be. I’m, of course, filled with happiness about seeing a beautiful baby yesterday. I feel like I’ve reached a milestone. I can be happy about this now. I can start to do real planning. M and I even talked about names last night.

The conversation:
C: We need to start thinking about names
M: Really? [frowns]
C: Yes, really, this kid is going to need a name. We can’t just call it Baby forever.
M: [grins]
C: [grins back, knowing he wants to say something about Dirty Dancing, but also knowing he knows that I know and I’ll take him seriously and we’ll end up with a kid named Baby forever and the poor kid will be in the corner all the time.]
C: We’ll get a book of names and look through it.
M: That sounds good.
C: I want to have 2 names for each. You know, like that time we picked out a name for the goldfish before we got it and it just didn’t seem right.
M: Yup. We’ll get a book.

So I guess you could say we’re talking about names.

The good: I now know what it feels like when the baby turns completely over. It makes me feel better because I knew those bumps couldn’t be kicks yet. But I knew they were something. They are somersaults. I am wearing all maternity clothes: pants, tank top, and shirt. I feel like I could go to bed wearing this stuff. I can’t wipe this smile off my face.

Last night, I was standing in front of the mirror examining my belly (I do this every day) and M came over and smiled and just gave it a little caress, like you would do to a newborn. I love watching him fall in love.

The bad, The ugly: Not much to complain about. Not that I feel like I could ever complain. I’m sleeping terribly, but who cares? I would give up sleeping completely if I had to.

I read some sad blogs today about recent losses. Here I am, all happy and bouncing on a cloud. But other people are still hurting. That could be me today. I just want to crawl into those blogs and hug the women who are just aching. I know what it feels like. I know the pain. I’m grateful to be where I am today, but it only takes me a second to go back to that place. My heart is breaking for everyone experiencing a loss right now. I remember when I first started reading blogs and I would see women who were on the road to having another child and feeling their happiness. I remember wishing I could get to that point. And here I am. I’m not out of the woods at all, but I’m on the path. My wish for everyone out there is that your time wandering around lost will end and you’ll find your hope and your way out. And I wish that it will be soon.

Due Date

I’m not sure how to feel today. I knew I’d be confused. I have so many different feelings right now. I have a vague feeling of sadness, but I just can’t suppress the joy from yesterday. So right now, I’m actually a little giddy. Which makes me feel guilty. I know there’s no RIGHT way to feel today. I’ll probably have some bad times off and on, but I’m doing much better than I thought I would be. Good news just seems to be flowing today (you know who you are!) and my mind has a hard time thinking about the bad stuff when I have so much good right now.

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I wrote this a few days ago, when I still wasn’t sure I would still be pregnant today:

In the past few weeks, the emptiness was getting to me. I have all this empty time. I feel like something is missing in my life. I felt it a little when we started TTC last year, but now it is getting bigger. I have these hours that I don’t want to fill. I just kind of sit and look around. I know what I should be doing. I should be taking care of a little one. I should be wishing for more sleep. I should be smiling at a sleeping little boy.

I would know now what he looks like. I would know if those blue eyes snuck past my family’s dark brown eyes. I would know how big he would be. I would know what his hands looked like and how cute those toes could be. I would know what it was like to have a baby want to be held by me.

Instead, I’m at work. I’m wearing normal people pants. No one here knows what today is. Why would you remember someone’s unfulfilled due date? That’s not something you write on your calendar.
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A girl walked up to me today and said “It’s Friday the 13th! This is such a terrible day!” and I didn’t really respond. I kind of started to like the idea of Friday the 13th…

Like I said, those thoughts are still there, just not in the front of my mind. I wish the world worked out different, but I can’t wish this new little baby away. I want this baby, I want the other baby. I’m totally in love with that little sound I heard yesterday, I wish I had a crying baby in my arms right now.

Even with all this last year has brought me, I’m so happy and blessed to be where I am right now.

Keep Growing!

I was reading today’s Kirtsy post at LFCA. The post is Bloom Where You’re Planted and it reminded me of my own journey. Lori talks about the plants in her garden that have just shown up, accidently, and how they have taken root around her house.

Right after my D&C in May, I was looking around my yard. I had a garden full of tulips and daffodils that I was so excited about. The daffodil stems poked out of the ground, grew tall and green… and never bloomed. Only half of the tulips (maroon and orange, of course) showed up, with maybe 3 flowers out of the two dozen bulbs. I had a garden full of stems. This brought on a bad night with the husband, with me crying those cries that don’t even make noise. How come I only could grow things half way?

Lori’s post reminded me of my little accidental baby. I tried so hard for the other ones. I wanted them to grow right where they were planted. But this one… this plant that just shows up and grows, like her stubborn flowers, is a survivor. Come on baby. Keep growing.

October 15th

Appointment update will be tomorrow. Today is for remembering.

My mom is coming to visit tonight. We're going to go out, spend quality time together, go to a card making class. We'll focus on the positive, because that's what we do. That's how we get through tough times.

So I won't be home to light a candle. But I'll have a light in my heart, the light that never goes out.

I miss you, my baby boy. I love you. So much.