One More Moment

Most of the time I'm completely settled into the skin of a mom. A mourning mom. Who will never forget. But who must go on. For herself. For her little one. To survive. But sometimes. Just sometimes... I am so angry that I don't get just one more moment. I'm not asking for a day not even an hour. I just want to see my baby alive for one more minute. Okay even dead. I just want to see her. To hold her. It hurts so much. Then...I remember the must go on part. I wipe my tears. Unclench my fist. Remove the emotions...and go on.

A Special Gift

I have had an unusually bad few weeks. On the heels of my daughters anniversary came my mom's birthday. On top of these were some medical problems I could have done without. I don't mean to sound like a pitiful crybaby just to paint an accurate picture of my current mental and emotional state.

Then...

Completely catching me by surprise I get this in the mail from a very special friend of mine. Not only did it lift my spirits and make me smile and cry at the same time but it made me realize how fortunate I am to have people who care.

Thank you J. You made my day! I will treasure it always.

Of course I'm also thankful for all my friends and family that care. There's "S" and "Me" and my blogger friends who always seem to check in and comment even if I'm boring like Tracey, Niobe, Angel Mom, Carole, Mike and Msfitzita.

Thanks!


*Updated to add*
Don't forget to light a candle at 7:00p.m. tonight Sunday, December 9th, for "All children who have died."
Thanks to Catherine for the reminder.

Haiku Friday

Sixty-three today;
She would have been, should have been,
I miss her...so much.

My Day

Little One has strep throat. After a fever of 104 and an urgent care visit Monday I took him home with antibiotics. Instead of improving he has progressively gotten worse. I'm taking him back today.

My eighteen year old son is now the proud owner of the universe and all its inhabitants, all the knowledge and know-how therein and a mouth to prove it. Soon-to-be not-so-proud owner of an eviction notice.

At the end of the month my mom would have been sixty-three years old. I miss her so much.

That's my day. What are you up to today?



*Update* Just got back from urgent care...again. On top of strep throat, Little One also has a nasty virus and is getting an ear infection. I'm fired!

Haiku Friday

My little boy likes;
cowboy hats, boots, muscle shirts
and kissing mommy:)

Just My Imagination

Last night while I was out having an otherwise nice time, a pregnant couple sat across from us. This wouldn't be a big deal if it wasn't for their behavior.

First, they were young. Second, they were nice looking. Third, they were going to have a baby. This should make for a happy occasion right? Of course not. Now, I do know that they probably just had a fight. Pregnant hormones and all. Or maybe they just got some bad news. Or something. But I couldn't talk myself into that last night.

With my vivid, pessimistic imagination I just couldn't let it go at that. They looked so, so sad. They may have said two words to each other. They hardly even look at each other, they just sat there quietly looking down at the table. I (who always imagine the worst) wondered if there was something wrong with the baby. Did they just find out it has something life-threatening? Maybe they found out that it was over and they're now waiting for the spontaneous birth? I know how ridiculous this sounds but this is how my mind works. I could think of nothing else. She looked sad enough to cry and so did he. Not angry just sad. I couldn't concentrate on the good company I was with or the nice surroundings, just on her obvious sadness. They quietly shared a plate and left.

I'm sure the baby was fine but my mind goes to some pretty strange and sometimes dark places sometimes. I hate that my mind works like this. I wish I didn't know that all pregnancies don't have happy endings.

Haiku Friday

Food poisoning sucks,
ribs and muscles still aching.
Exit was not fun!

Her Story Part II

See Her Story Part I below.


Today, seven years ago...


I open my eyes to see a nurse putting something on my door. She leaves and I ask my husband what it was. He tells me that its a mourning leaf and that it will let them know before entering the room that there is or will be a death. The contractions are long, hard and painful.

I wake up again and ask what day it is. I can't believe that it's only the 21st. The nurse tells me that I need to push and have the baby. She said I'll only get worse and that the baby hasn't had a heartbeat since yesterday. I ignore her. I wake up again to see my mom, my brother-in-law and my best friend in the room with us. Besides a saline I.V. and antibiotics I don't let them give me anything else. Since I'm not on any pain medication I don't understand why I can't stay awake.

My mom has cold towels on my head and whispers that I'll get through this and I'll be okay. I didn't know there was a question. It was my baby that was in need not me. My husband comes over and everyone else leaves. He tells me that he knows what I'm doing and that it won't work. That she can't be put back and that because of this my infection is getting worse. He said that was why I was slipping in and out of consciousness. He said he was sad too but that he couldn't lose us both. As I drifted back to sleep I thought that he was overreacting and should be more concerned and focused on the baby not on me.

I spoke to people here and there but didn't remember much, until...I overheard the Doctor (not mine, another from our HMO who had the next shift) talking to my husband as I was waking up.

Doctor, "She's getting worse. The antibiotics aren't working as well as we hoped they would."

Husband, "What are you saying?"

Doctor, "I don't think she's going to make it much longer. If she keeps the baby inside I'm afraid you're going to lose them both."

Husband, "I've already spoken to her and she doesn't want to..."

Doctor, "There is one thing. Because she has been going in and out of consciousness you can make the decision for her."

Husband, "I can't make her push."

Doctor, "No, but you can give us permission to sedate her and take the baby. Then she'll at least be able to recover. You don't want to lose them both do you?"

Long pause.

Husband, "Okay get me the paperwork."

Me, "Wait a minute, I'm ready."

I figured that if my baby was going to enter this world alive or not, I wasn't going to be knocked out. I was not missing the birth of my own baby. I wanted to give her more time but the choice was no longer mine. My mom was brought back into the room and I began to push. The Doctor warned me that she had probably died the night before and that I should prepare myself.

My beautiful baby girl was born at 10:10 a.m. She was 21 weeks and six days gestation. She was 9 3/4 inches long and weighed 13 oz. She was breech. She cried. Then she was immediately given to me.

The Doctor explained to me that she was too young to survive. I begged the Doctor to help her. She said that they could stick a tube down her throat to make her breathe a little longer. She said that it would be painful and traumatic and that she had absolutely no chance of survival. I loved this tiny baby and I didn't want to cause her any more suffering. Not if she had NO chance of life. Not after my own body that was supposed to protect her had just betrayed her with this abrupt eviction. I didn't argue.

Two nurses asked for my daughter to clean her up and...NO. I didn't know how long she would be alive. She could take her last breath at any time. They looked to the Doctor for instructions. She told them that they were to "Do whatever I wanted." Turning to me she said, "Keep her as long as you want. Do whatever you want. Call if you need anything." Then she walked out.

The nurses brought me warm blankets for her and cried every time they came in to replace them. From that point on the staff was more supportive than I had ever experienced. Nurses frequently checked on me.

She was perfect. My heart was so filled with love that I was afraid it would burst. I had never experienced this instant complete unconditional love before. I felt very blessed. I knew my baby would die (though my heart secretly hoped they were wrong and she would miraculously live) but I was grateful for this time however short it may be. I was grateful for having experienced pregnancy, giving birth and this love that made me feel at peace. I felt a oneness with her, with God, with the universe. I stared in awe as I cradled her in my arms.

It's now about 1:40 p.m. and I notice that her breathes are slowing. As I continue watching, the seconds between her exhales and inhales seem like hours. At 1:55 p.m. she exhaled for the last time. I waited. I begged. I cried...and still she wouldn't take even one more breath. I cried hysterically. My husband held her and prayed. And cried. He gave her to a nurse. I told her to give her back. I needed to hold her to keep her. I screamed for her. I pleaded and cried. She cried too, apologized and left the room with her. (I feel that I needed/wanted more time with her BUT my husband did what he thought was in my best interest and I understand.)

A nurse came in and asked if they could take pictures of her. I was appalled (inexperienced as I was). How could they photograph a dead baby? Mine? I said no (A decision I have always regretted.) She brought me a heart shaped box. What is this? She explained that it was made for these situations. I opened it to find a tiny (it would have fit her perfectly) dress, booties, a hat and a little blanket. This was beautiful and thoughtful and I still treasure it.

I was forever changed by her. She made me complete. I learned to love unconditionally. To feel intensely. To cry until I'm empty. To control my emotions better. I learned who my real friends were.

That day my heart was more full of love and joy than ever before. That day my heart was broken and crushed like never before. She will forever be a part of me. She is remembered by the people closest to me. I will be with her again in the resurrection.

Her Story Part I

It was seven years ago today...

I put myself on bed rest today. I feel like there is something wrong but I don't know what. In the last two weeks I've gone into my OB's office and said, "Please check me something seems wrong" about five times. I was checked the first time. As she showed me my bouncing (actually I think she was doing cartwheels) baby on the screen she assured me that all was well and that I had the first time mommy jitters. After the first time I was quietly ushered out by her nurse and told that the Doctor was very busy and said that everything was fine I should stop worrying. Thanks Doc.

Last night, upon receiving some bad news in a very stressful situation I began to feel some lower abdomen pain. A few hours later It was worse and was in my back too. I called my Doctor's office and though she wasn't available a nurse asked me a few questions. She reached the conclusion that I was just having some pregnancy constipation problems and should take something for it. Whew, I'm glad it wasn't serious. So I took something for it.

About an hour or two after I went to bed I was awakened by cramping and an urgent need to go. I try but nothing. ten minutes later same thing. An hour goes by, now it's every few (two to five) minutes. I can't sleep and wonder why what I took wasn't working. *{Of course I know now but at the time was in complete ignorance of these signs}* Still no blood, everything MUST be fine. Though I was completely unaware at the time, I lost my mucus plug early this morning. Finally I could sleep for an hour.

When I woke up I told my husband what had happened and he said I should call my Doctor again. I did. She wasn't available so I left a message. I called again two hours later. Same response. An hour later. Still, no response. I was getting nervous here. My husband said, "I don't care what she (Dr.) said, I'm taking you in!" I was glad to be going and find what was wrong but...I couldn't help feeling a little reluctant too. I mean how many times can you be ushered out as a silly, overly-worried-for-no-reason-nuisance before you feel shame at even thinking of going in and bothering them with, ummm...doing their job!

I went in to the local E.R. and because I was just over that 20 week mark was immediately sent up to L&D to get checked out. Ahhh, now we're getting somewhere. The Dr. on shift from our HMO was...of course, mine. That would be why she wasn't available to return my calls. Thanks Doc.

A nurse came in and strapped on all needed monitoring equipment. Her heart rate was staying in the 151 b.p.m. area. Good. Contractions were picked up. Must be some incredibly strong Braxton Hicks. All looks great for an entire hour with the small exception of having lost her heart beat after she moved at the end. She really moved. Not to be found.

Nurse, "All looks good, here's the discharge paperwork you need to sign. Follow the instructions and if you have any questions..."

Husband, "Wait a minute! Your sending us home just like that? She said something is wrong! And why was there no cervical exam done? Isn't that routine?!"

Nurse, "Of course, that's always done first. The first (as this was the second) Nurse did that."

Husband, "No she didn't."

Nurse, "Yes, I'm sure she did."

Husband, "No, I've been here the entire time and it was never done!"

Me, "It was never done."

Nurse, "That's odd. Give me that paperwork, I'll be right back."

First nurse comes in and begins then stops and without a word scurries out.

Us, "Wha..."

In comes another nurse, does the exam...ouch. She looks up at me, does it again and leaves the room. Not a word spoken. I ask my husband to gather my things since it was done and I was being discharged and...In march two orderly-nurses-something. They quickly unplug all machines lift bed rails and roll me out through the hall.

Me, "What are you doing?"

Orderly #1, "We're taking you to your room."

Me, "There must be some mistake, I'm being discharged."

Orderly #2, "No, you've just been admitted."

Me, "What, why!?"

Orderly#1 to Orderly #2, "No one told her?"

Me, reaching out and grabbing hold of a doorway, "I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me what's going on."

Orderly #2, "You're right I'm sorry, I thought you knew. I'll go get someone."

Here comes the last nurse. She has a poker face and speaks right through me.

Nurse, "You are being admitted. You are fully dilated and the baby is half way down the birth canal."

Me (with a blank look of shock on my face), "I'm only 21 weeks and 5 days, it's too early. What can be done?"

Nurse, "You will give birth and it will die. Nothing can be done."She turns and walks away.

I'm completely shocked.

Orderly #1 & #2 apologize for her rudeness.

While in my room they can't find a heartbeat and I am informed that the baby may have already died. They didn't know how long she had been half out and said that there was infection.
I had a plan. I had to hold on to my baby to give her every chance at life. I thought that if I kept her in me just a few more weeks she would have a chance. When the contractions came, when the urge to push came, I resisted. Floods of people came that night but I only remember a few. I was concentrating on keeping this baby. No matter what they said.

As it got later my fever worsened. I've waited sixteen years to give birth, lost a baby at seven weeks, gone through infertility drugs, injections, IUI's and fallen completely in love with this child. I will be sick yes but I will keep this baby safe...

Continued

Haiku Friday

He's grumpy and warm,
Shouldn't mommies know this stuff?
His molars are in!


These empty arms ache...
baby girl and her grandma,
can't feel their hugs now.


Flowers bloom in her
memory garden, and I...
remember and smile.

My friend S is going through a very difficult time right now. S, I just want you to know that I would be there if I could and you're always in my thoughts and prayers. Your not alone! Love you.

This hug is for you and...anyone else who needs one.

Some people like to get hugs, it makes them feel loved or protected or at least cared about. Others don't, it infringes on their personal space or they don't like the physical contact.

How about you? Do you like hugs and why?

Fall

I remember when I was a kid and I could trust completely.

The kind of trust that would let me close my eyes turn around and just fall back. I knew that the person I trusted (mom, dad, friend, etc.) would catch me. I never doubted it. So I fell.

Back when I thought that every woman could become pregnant. When I though that every pregnancy resulted in a live, take-home baby. When I thought that my parents would never die. When I thought that my friends and family would always live close by. Back when I would have never thought that an entire month (or two) of every single year could send you back to square one in the grieving process.

Sometimes it's not so easy to just fall. To close my eyes and know that someone will catch me and help me back to my feet. I guess I know better now. So I stand. I stand and keep going and try to extend a hand along the way.

My Bad

My doctor said that my baby would not be born alive.

Then she said that if she was born alive, it would be for only a few breaths.

I asked if she could be put on a respirator ( or ANYTHING) to help her.

She said no.

She said that if I made them do that, it would only be further trauma to my baby and her few minutes (if that) of life.

She said she had ABSOLUTELY no chance of survival.

I couldn't further traumatize her.

Not with NO chance of survival.

I loved her too much.

After all, she was only 21 weeks and six days gestation.

Thankfully her doctor didn't feel the same.

Thinking of AngelMom
and Baby Girl S G today.

Friends

Cyber schmyber, a friend is a friend.

I haven't been able to focus long enough to write lately. Even when I want to write down what I'm feeling it just doesn't translate to written word well. It's like a fog or a blur. There is however one thing that's clear...You guys are great!

When I read your comments, I feel better. I really do. The sincere concern that you show cheers me up. No, I'm not a hermit without real life friends. It's just that you don't know me and have nothing to lose or gain...and still, you comment. I just want you all to know that it means a lot to me.

Enough with the mush. Here's what you are in different languages.

Which one do you like?

Albanian -- mik
Afrikaans - vriend
Chinese - péngyou
Dutch - vriend, vriendje
Danish - ven
Estonian - sõber
French - ami
German - freund
Georgian - megobari
Hungarian - barát
Indian - dost
italian - amico
Irish - cara
Japanese -- tomodachi
korean -- jingu
Latin -- amicus
Manx -- carrey
Old English -- freond, wine
Persian -- dust
Russian -- prijátel
Sanskrit -- mitra
Spanish -- amigo
Swahili -- rafiki
Turkish -- dost,arkadas

Another Haiku Friday

I guess this is life-
We are born to slowly die.
So why does it hurt?

My miracle boy.
Sometimes I still can't believe,
Your here and alive!

My sweet baby girl,
I couldn't keep you alive.

I'm sorry I failed-

Haiku Friday

She really is gone-
My heart is afraid to cry,
It may never stop.

I'm Back

I'm finally home!

So much has happened in these last few weeks that I'm not sure where to start.

My mom was admitted to the hospital on Saturday the 4th of August. She was put on a ventilator on Sunday. Her lungs weren't doing their job due to fibrosis, then pneumonia complicated the matter. Also, she had just finished chemo and was having radiation. First let me tell you about her radiation...

She was going to be getting radiation every day for six weeks. She was only on her second week. On July 30th she goes to have radiation and tells her doctor that she feels pain in her chest and feels like she can't breathe. She also tells him she feels weak and has a fever. He tells her that it isn't an infection because if it was her white blood cells would be elevated. Next day, same thing except this time all symptoms are worse including the fever. She says she's concerned she might have bronchitis or pneumonia. Again, he tells her that her white cells aren't elevated enough for it to be an infection. Now this is the doctor who is administering her radiation telling her this. RADIATION LOWERS YOUR WHITE BLOOD CELLS! How can HE have overlooked that! Anyway, he tells her that if she's concerned to make an appointment with her primary care physician. She did and his first appointment was August 29th. Meanwhile...he tells her he has to stop her treatments for a week because of her weakened state. Believing him, she goes home and stays in bed since she thinks it can't be serious (thanks doc!) Until she can't breathe, even with her inhalers.

To make a long story short; her lungs finally couldn't do their job anymore. She tried, really tried but her body had failed her. She died with all the beauty, love, gentleness and dignity that she portrayed every day of her life. We buried her on the 18th. I stayed a little longer to take care of her personal stuff.

The plane trip home was the best I can remember for me and Little One.

If it wasn't for my faith...I don't think I could have gotten through this. At least, not without being hysterical and needing sedation.

By the way, THANK YOU! I checked in a few times while I was away and was really encouraged by your comments. Thank You!

Mom

My mother fell asleep in death on August 12. She was beautiful and peaceful as she took her last breaths. I held her in my arms but couldn't save her. My mother, my daughter, my heart.

Update

The flight wasn't as horrible as I had anticipated. Not good but bearable. Little One did great.

My mom is on life support. She's terminal. She's sixty-two.

I'm Off!

My mother is ill and I need to be with her.

Problem is ...I'm flying. I don't do that very well. I'm talking about full blown panic attack not well.

I'll get through it. She needs me.

Tomorrow Little One and I are off to California. I'll try to post an update from there.

Did I mention that I'm acrophobic?

Memorial Garden

Memorial Garden II

Alone? Or not?

When you feel really down. I mean when Murphy's Law has taken up permanent residency at your place, and thats in ADDITION to the grief of having lost your baby. Do you like to be alone? Or would you prefer to be in the company of good friends and/or family?

I know that some people would prefer to be alone. Like, don't talk to me, look at me, and never, EVER try to comfort me! On the other hand some like the support, the shoulder of an understanding friend or family member, they NEED someone to cry with.

What if your not sure? You want to be alone yet want to know that someone understand. REALLY, like I've been through this too, understands. Or even, I don't understand but I won't pretend to and I'll be there for you no matter what.


How about you? Do you need to be alone? Or not?

A month later...

Sorry for the long silence.

I felt like I was in a fog, walking in the shadows. Like I was constantly struggling and climbing to reach the top then, when I'm almost there and can see the light...I slip again. It's been difficult to get focused and harder to stay that way. And It's not even October. Yet.

Anyway, I'm better now. A friend of mine has been e-mailing me and (unknowingly) has succeeded in helping me focus on other things. Thank You!

I'm trying to find new music for a cd I'm making of songs that remind me of my daughter.



What songs remind you of your baby(ies)?

Rated G

I borrowed the idea from Niobe who borrowed it from someone else. Anyway, this site rates your blog and even lets you know why you received said rating.

This blog is rated G. The rating was based on use of these two words: Pain (x1) and Hurt (x2).

So I guess blogger thinks that the ravings of a mother in mourning desperately trying to dignify and hold on to the memory of her babies is...For Everyone!

Baby Remembrance

I found a link to a new site from Niobe. Here you can have your baby's date remembered. There's a page for each month with a nice little memorial picture (usually candles or flowers). You can link your blog to your baby's remembrance. It's small and simple but feels more personal than the larger sites. DD responds to requests promptly and warmly. Check it out.

Forgive and Forget

I've got the first part down but I honestly need help on the second.

I just can't do it. I know the scriptures. I know. I just can't. How do you wipe out a memory? And then my personality is such that when the thought comes back to mind, I can't help but feel the pain or anger all over again.

I can forgive, why not forget? I forget everything else. As Msfitzita brought out I'm a prime candidate for Alzheimer's. I just wish I had selective memory.

How do you open your heart completely and have unconditional love for someone when you can't forget what they've done?

Maybe I haven't actually forgiven. I thought I had. I wish I could.

Life would be so much easier if I could just forget.

In Memory Of Liam

Kate wrote a beautiful tribute to her son Liam.

Liam entered the world on May 5th 2007 along with his twin brother Ben and left...too soon.

I'm Fine

“I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m fine. I’m FINE! I could jog all the way to Texas and back…but my daughter can’t! She never could! Oh..God…I’m so mad! I don’t know what to do! I don’t know what to do! I wanna know why! I wanna know WHY Shelby’s life is over! I wanna know HOW that baby will EVER know how wonderful his mother was. Will he EVER know what she went through for him? Oh God I wanna know WHY? WHY? Lord..I wish I could understand! No….No!….No!! NO! It’s not suppose to happen this way! I’m supposed to go first! I’ve always been ready to go first! I don’t think I can take this..I .. I don’t think I can take this! I just wanna hit somethin’! I just wanna hit somebody..till they feel as bad as I do! I just wanna hit something! I wanna hit it hard!



Movie: Steel Magnolias

Scene by: Sally Field

Misunderstood

Unfortunately, (probably because I suck at blogging/writing) my previous post has been misconstrued.

My feelings are not and have not been hurt.

What I thought I said, meant was; a) I was glad to have been tagged (a first for me.) b) I thought the the meme was confusing too, I just did it anyway. c) Had I thought about it I may have had the same opinion as Niobe. I just didn't think about it. d) After reading Niobe's post, I agree. e) I am nonetheless still glad that Tracey tagged me.

I didn't mean to whine or portray in any way that my feeling were hurt. They weren't. As a matter of fact the comments caught me off guard. I had to reread the post myself.

I don't in any way want to detour anyone else from doing it. And if you still wanted to do it Angel Mom, I for one would be interested in reading your answers.

Sorry for the misunderstanding.

Meme Misery

I was tagged a few days ago for a rather confusing meme. I had never been tagged for anything before. Though I didn't quite understand the relationship of all the questions, I did it anyway. Maybe because I just wanted to have participated in one. Maybe I thought "well...it's all in fun." Regardless of the reason I did, I did. I then tagged four people.

I shouldn't have.

If I wasn't sure about it, I shouldn't have passed it along. Duh. Did this dawn on me? NO. At least not until I read Niobe's post. I guess I could/should have killed it, I just didn't think of it.

I do thank Tracey for thinking about me.

It looks like this meme will finally be put out of it's meme misery.

I've been tagged by Tracey from Just Another Mommy Blog! I have never tagged before. Ever. So...Even though I really suck at this, I'll try.

The Rules: I'll tag you, you take the person off of the top and then put your name at the bottom of the list. Easy right?


BlondeMomBlog
Holly’s Corner
An Island Life
JustanotherMommyblog
Mother In Mourning


What were you doing 10 years ago?
I just finished unpacking and was trying to settle in our first (owned) home.

What were you doing 1 year ago?
Unpacking.

Five Snacks You Enjoy
Ice cream
Dark Chocolate
Pecans
Fruit
Veggie Chips

Five Songs That You Know All The Lyrics To

Most music by Prince
Don't Want To Miss A Thing - Aerosmith
My Baby You - Marc Anthony
I Wanna Get Next To You - Rose Royce
I'll Wait For You - Joe Nichols

Five Things You Would Do If You Were a Millionaire

Buy a house on the coast
Vacation in a lighthouse
Have another baby
Help people who REALLY need it.
Lose weight

Five Bad Habits

Talking too much
Blogging
Unhealthy eating
Not exercising
Procrastinating

Five Things You Like To Do

Be with my family
Garden
Worship
Read
Blog

Five Things You Would Never Wear Again

Maternity clothes
Pink, red or yellow
6-inch heels
A size small
A roach clip

Five Favorite Toys

Computer
DS Lite
Cell Phone
Stereo
Car



Now it’s your turn!

I tag:

Niobe, Angel Mom, Catherine, and Msfitzita

Keeping Up

I have been so wrapped up in reading blogs that I've forgotten my occasional post.

I'm waiting for word on WTF and her baby girl.

I'm so sorry that Msfitzita is in the midst of a clomid nightmare. I had almost forgotten the clomid days (daze).

I am truly hoping that Rosepetal is doing better soon.

I'm glad that Catherine has found happiness, if even for a few moments at a time.

I hope Angel Mom is having a great vacation.

I wish Ima would post more often.

I wish I could keep up with Niobe's posts and her interesting tidbits of information.

I think Mike's photos are great.

Tracey always cracks me up.

Three Minute Palaver is always thinking of others.

I recently found Delphi.

Christina Rosalie keeps my spirit soaring.

And there are more but it would take me ALL DAY.

Also for those of you who don't have blogs, thanks for stopping by my friends...NRK, S & Jen.

Recipe Help Please

My sister and her family will be coming tomorrow and I'm at a loss for a recipe.

She lives in another state so I don't get to cook for her often and she'll be leaving the next day. She is a great cook. Everything from scratch made of course with the purest organic ingredients and without a recipe.

I, on the other hand, am not a great cook. For most things I need a recipe and still might do it wrong. I do make a good dish sometimes, but...well, I just don't cook too often.

Pork will be the main dish but I don't know what else to make with it. Sides, desserts, any recipe's will be greatly appreciated. Oh, and one more thing. If you leave me one on 'comments' PLEASE include all steps. Even if it seems like I would know that. I promise you, I won't.

THANKS in advance!

Peace

As I was driving with my Little One in the car I heard a song that reminded me of my daughter. The song was "Golden Slumber" by "K.D. Lang" and she sings it superlatively. I am once again weeping behind the wheel, and on the freeway. At the end of the song I let him know that I'm okay and that the song just reminded me of his sister. He tells me that it reminded him of her too. He's smiling. He continues, "It makes me think of how beautiful she will be when she's all grown up. After the resurrection and after she grows up." He smiles. I leave him with his thoughts.

I realize that the peaceful smile on his face is scintillating with love. I feel it too. I'm not crying because it hurts so bad, I'm crying because it hurts so good. Because the pure incorruptible love I feel for her is so strong that my heart feels ready to burst. I can see, in my minds eye, her being gently rocked in my arms, as K. D. Lang sings for us. It was then that I realized there was no pain with it. None. Just beauty and peace.

I know it will hurt sometimes. I know how difficult the anniversary of her birth/death (life) will always be. How can it not be? After all my firstborn, my baby girl, my miracle is dead. She will never in this life be with me again. Not in my arms, not in her crib, nowhere except in my heart. She can and will never be replaced. I'm just grateful to have reached a stage in my mourning when the pain is less often, and the smiles are more often. I'm grateful that I had the few hours I did with her. I'm grateful that for now there's peace. Just beauty and peace.

Haiku

My arms are empty.
I cling to her memory,
she makes my heart full.

THE LITTLE BOY FOUND

The little boy lost in the lonely fen,
Led by the wandering light,
Began to cry, but God, ever nigh,
Appeared like his father, in white.

He kissed the child, and by the hand led,
And to his mother brought,
Who in sorrow pale, through the lonely dale,
Her little boy weeping sought.

William Blake

Baby Boy

Seven years ago today I lost my first baby.

Seven years and seven weeks ago today I became pregnant for the first time. I had been married for sixteen years.

I still remember feelings of gratitude and love. Love for my baby and gratitude for having experienced pregnancy at all. I never thought I would experience pregnancy for any amount of time. I was still in awe of every detail of my pregnancy. My baby miraculously growing from a single cell into a human being with a beating heart. My own body changing in ways I never thought possible. Morning sickness was a treat I welcomed.

Also were the profound sense of loss and grief. The "It's not fair!" and "Why me?" kept ringing in my ears. I screamed those words over and over, if only in my head, begging my God for an answer. I stayed in bed for two days, and cried. I know this is shallow but...I was also embarrassed. How do I face all my family and friends who had rejoiced with me just days and weeks earlier? I didn't have answers yet I knew I would be facing their questions. I felt as if I were a failure. A fraud. Betrayed by my own body.

It happened on Saturday. Monday I saw my Infertility Specialist. After checking my HCG he announced that I had completely and on my own ejected everything. He told me that I may have cysts on my ovaries as was common with my PCOS and infertility treatments (meds, injections and IUI). He performed a vaginal ultrasound and saw no sign of anything out of the ordinary. "Perfect" he said, "Since your still bleeding from the the miscarriage we'll treat it as a normal cycle and start you on your meds now." I did so and in June concieved my daughter Isabel.

Random Thoughts

I like cobalt blue glass.

My teenagers have lost their minds.

Congratulations Catherine!

A longtime friend has visited my blog. "Hi, S."

I'm in awe of God.

There are wildflowers everywhere.

I wish I could help my mom while she's going through chemotherapy.

Sometimes I'm fine.

I wish I had at least a measure of artistic capabilities.


What are your artistic talents?

A Comment To A Friend

Here's part of a comment I posted to Angel Mom. I thought it applied to my page as well:

...I wish there was an answer. For you. For me. For all of us that have joined with out thought or knowledge of one another in this very painful yet strong and beautiful club we call; parents in mourning.

We will get through this. We have gotten through what we thought was the worst part. The actual event. Somehow I keep revisiting that part in my mind over and over wishing I could go back and have those few moments just one more time. Even if it does come with the pain.

Our children don't have the mothers that we were before this, your right. Yet isn't it possible that we're somehow better? Better listeners. Better protectors. Better at picking up every detail of their childhood. Better at savoring every moment. More appreciative of them and of this beautiful and precious gift bestowed upon us once again...being a mommy.

Speaking of Over Protective...

I took Little One to the dentist today. He did so well, he's my hero. I get nervous at the dentist and shaky. He sat there, got two tiny cavities DRILLED and filled with no anesthesia! No topical, no shot, no gas. The dentist told him to raise his hand if it hurt. He never did so the dentist kept going until he was done. Little One got up when it was over said,"Thank You" and walked away. With a smile, no less! I on the other hand would have had the shots (as many as possible) and STILL been a baby about it. I hate going to the dentist. So anyway...

The dentist comes out (before) and gives me this long speech about how children do better apart from their parents and why I shouldn't go in. I agreed but said I was still going in with him. We were called back a few minutes later and his assistant tells me I should stay in the waiting room. No, I'm going in with him! "Oh, I see" she almost whispers as she cautiously slithers away. We get comfortable (as if thats possible) in the room. Mr. Dentist comes in and AGAIN lectures me on why I shouldn't be in there and tells me that if Little One gives him any problem he will stop and refer me to another dentist, whom he adds would not let me back there with Little One.

By now I, yes I not Little One am experiencing pre-seperation anxiety and my eyes start to mist. I then tell him "Look, I've gone through eighteen years of infertility, and lost two babies before him. I'm NOT leaving him now!" He gave me a blank, almost hurt stare and turned away and finished his job without another word to me. I felt like crap. I played the dead babies card. I swore to myself that I would NEVER do that! Here I was telling an almost complete stranger about my babies for my own gain (his sympathy I guess.) I was so ashamed I cried. Yes, that would be ME bawling like a baby in PUBLIC. I felt like I had betrayed my babies and their memories.

It appeared to have worked.

When he was done with Little One he turned to me with a pained expression and said, "My wife and I went through infertility too, and we lost a baby before our little girl. I'm sorry." What? In all my self pity I didn't even recognize that he was hurting too. Wasn't I supposed to have some sort of sixth sense about these things now? If I am, I haven't as of yet had that sense bestowed on me.

I left feeling sympathy for the dentist, pride for my Little One and ashamed of myself.

Never Over, Just Better

I guess I always thought (wished) that after enough time had passed it would be a faint sweet memory to recall at will. NOT.

The death of my baby was the single most traumatic, horrific thing that I have ever experienced... and you wouldn't even believe the things I've been through. Anyway, that being said, I always felt it would dissolve away with time somehow. Don't get me wrong it does get better, but its just NEVER OVER.

I got pregnant (with the help of an excellent Infertility Doctor) six months after my daughter died. I didn't tell anyone I was going through the treatments again because I couldn't face them with a negative result. When it worked I couldn't tell too many people because I didn't want to write a "How and why my my baby died" speech AGAIN. I was and am grateful for every second of my pregnancy but I lived EVERY DAY in FEAR that this was the last day that my baby would be safe and alive in my womb. My own body had already betrayed me twice.

I had pre-eclampsia and was on complete bed rest from month two to delivery. I was told I had an incompetent uterus and needed a cerclage. I opted not to get one only to find out months later that I was misdiagnosed. The thing is that instead of just enjoying this little miracle growing inside of me I lived in fear. I had a baby shower and all that fun stuff but...as I opened each gift I was thinking of what to say when my baby died and I had to return them.

When he was born (emergency c-section) I thanked God for allowing me to see him healthy and crying and I just knew he wouldn't make it through the night. When morning came and he was still fine I felt like I had just won the lottery. Now not only do I get to have him one more day but I didn't have to be whisked away and hidden from all the others new mothers so I didn't have to hear their babies cry. Again.

For about the first year of his life I just knew that every sound was him choking, every sigh his last breath and every goodnight kiss a final farewell. I am still VERY protective of him but...I have learned that he's here to stay, and that thankfully it will be him at my funeral the way it should be.

Though the memories are now much more beautiful than sad it's just better, not over. She is and always will be a part of our family and our everyday lives. I am thankful that I can identify with and am aware of a huge part of the population now that I didn't even know existed (P.I.M.)

I just feel that in all my caution I robbed my new little one of a carefree easy going childhood.

A New Explanation For Stillbirth?

As I am not an expert in this area I will refrain from commenting.

What do you think?

Forget-Me-Not

Spring is here and everyone is planting. Every where I go I see people buying flowers, seeds, trees, shrubs, just about anything they could plant.

I'm thinking that with hearts so light and everything blooming and gardens being planted and replanted, well... I wish my baby girl could share in this. So...

I found these cute little canisters with Forget-Me-Not seeds at Target. I bought way too many and printed these little labels. I affixed one to each can and sent them to a select few of my closest family and friends. The labels actually serve a two-fold purpose, they first and foremost remind them of my baby girl and second...they cover up the price.

Now (if they actually plant them) every time they see these shy yet beautiful little blossoms they'll remember her...and smile.

Murphy's Law?

My husband surprised me with a dinner date tonight.

This is what happened.

We get to the restaurant and find that they have misplaced (forgot to write down?) our reservations. After waiting too long we were finally seated.

Not a good table, not a nice location. We decide to let it go and enjoy our dinner.

Ha. They brought us BOTH the wrong meal. That just doesn't happen. They take it back and finally bring us the right plates. Mine isn't cooked the way I ordered it. I don't send it back because I'm hungry and don't want to wait another hour. At least she noticed (all by herself) and asks if I would like to send it back. I said no. She apologizes.

In the meantime...I try to be brave and order a drink I've never had before (I rarely drink, and when I do it's NOT wine). Red wine. Their best. She brings it. It's beautiful. I smell it. I shouldn't have, now I'm afraid to taste it. I talk myself into it, how wonderful it's going to taste and how well it goes with my food and how it looks so sophisticated. I take a sip. Ew! Yuck! How do people drink that stuff? How do they drink it and smile. Ew! My husband is laughing now and in all his sophistication, tastes it. After making an 'I just sucked a lemon' face, his whole body shivers. Now I'm laughing.

The food sucked, the wine really sucked, but the company was great.

Another Anniversary

Today is my anniversary.

23 years.

We've been through valleys, yes but also hills. Hills and mountains so high you feel you own the world, only to drop so low you can't see the light at the top. You have faith that it exists. You just can't see it.

In all our years together the worst thing we've been through is the agony and torment of watching helplessly as our three and a half hour old firstborn baby girl died in my arms. Six months earlier we mourned our very first baby. My very first pregnancy ended after only seven short weeks.

The best things we've been through are, well, some of the same things but more. Many more. The first pregnancy. I NEVER thought I would experience what it felt like to be pregnant. I was so grateful. My second pregnancy too. So grateful and so, so scared. Thanking God every time I threw up. Thanking him for every minute of everything about it. Even after she had died I remember being so thankful that I had the chance to experience morning (all day) sickness, feeling her move inside of me, giving birth, the instant, unconditional love that surrounds and overwhelms you when you hold your baby in your arms for the first time, even lactating for two weeks after. My third pregnancy with a live, healthy, take home baby at the end. The days we met, and the days we adopted our older children. Though none were infants, the dreams we had of giving them a life out of 'the system', of being a real, a normal family. The soft and beautiful and carefree days we spent in fun and laughter as a family. The nights we spent in passionate love. Our faith, our love and our hope.

Happy anniversary Mr. C, I love you!

Free DYSON Vacuum Anyone?

The ladies over at 5 Minutes For Mom are giving away a Dyson Slim. You don't have to be a great blogger (or I wouldn't have a chance) or even have a blog at all to enter. Check out the details here and who knows, it could be yours.

Five Things About Me And My Babies

I've had three pregnancies (with the help of a very good Infertility Dr.)

I've given birth to a LIVE baby twice.

I've miscarried once, had a vaginal birth once, and had an emergency c-section once.

I have (living) four teenagers and a five year old.

My four teenagers were adopted.

Anniversary

Today, forty-seven years ago my mother-in-law lost her first daughter to SIDS (Sudden Infant Death Syndrome.) My mother-in-law died over a decade ago.

I remember every year at this time she would be so incredibly sad. She would tell me the story of how it happened (several times) and always finish sobbing. It went something like this;

"She was so beautiful. Perfect. Healthy. Happy. Beautiful. I took her to her two month well baby appointment on Friday. The doctor said she was in perfect health. Isn't that funny? I could hear it as if it was yesterday, "Mrs. J she's perfect, the picture of health." That night everything went as normal and I put her in her crib for the night. The next morning I thought she was sleeping in. She never sleeps in...(speaking softer now) I should have known. [The crying usually started here.] I let her sleep for a while. Finally, I decide she needed to eat and went in to wake her up. She was so blue. I touched her...and so cold. I called her name over and over to wake her up! I started screaming...(softer, sobbing) and screaming! [Long pause] I don't remember much after that for a few weeks. They say the neighbor, my best friend came running and found me. I couldn't be calmed. The paramedics had to sedate me. I was kept heavily medicated for about two weeks. When I 'came out of it' there wasn't a single thing in the house of hers. My husband didn't want the memories to cause me more pain. I NEEDED her things! I WANTED her things! The entire nursery was bare. My heart was broken like I never imagined. Back then they didn't know too much about SIDS. People looked at us, at me like I had done something wrong. It broke my heart. I still don't know how I lived through it. I'm glad you'll never have to go through anything like that. [She knew I was infertile]"

Every year when I heard this, my heart broke for her. I also greatly admired her courage and strength. I knew that I could NEVER LIVE THROUGH such a thing. Her own baby. I would have lost my mind. I would have died.

She would never know that I would be able to identify with her. To know the pain. To live through such a thing. She had always felt as if she was alone in this 'knowledge'.

Even though it took me six years to do it, I'm glad I looked on the internet and found that I, (she/we) aren't alone. Though I would prefer that NO ONE EVER had to go through the loss of a baby, I find solace in knowing that your out there. I've seen so many blogs with wonderful, intelligent, NORMAL people (here, here, and so many more.) All with one thing in common. We're all mourning. I see that yes, life goes on, and eventually we return to our routines. But we NEVER forget. It will ALWAYS hurt on the anniversary. Yet, the memories are also SO BEAUTIFUL. I'll always love and remember my beautiful baby girl. I will always remember hers too. I will always be a Mother In Mourning.

I wish she could have shared in this too.

Not Morbid But Empathetic

I've read blogs of many, many P.I.M.'s (Parent(s) In Mourning).

I've been moved to tears many, many times at the depth of feeling that has been beautifully weaved into a blanket of words. Powerful words. Powerful not only because they are skillfully pieced together in just the right order but because someone has WRITTEN EXACTLY what I am FEELING, or have already been through. That is understandable since we have experienced similar losses.

I also read other blogs. Things, of course that I also can identify with such as, mommy blogs, infertility etc..

With the exception of infertility and pregnancy/infant loss, most of the others NEVER venture over to each other.

Today was an exception.

Today while reading Tracey's, Just Another Mommy Blog, I was caught completely off guard. She was (while watching a movie) FEELING for those of us who have lost our babies. Now, I know that when faced with the situation most people would sympathize. The thing is that she has never had this happen to her and STILL addressed the issue on her "Normal Mommy" blog.
This tells me that more people are AWARE that we are here, and are trying to understand because they care. Tracey, thanks for putting this out there to all your unsuspecting readers!

Here's an excerpt (yes, stolen) from her post...

"I held onto my baby and cried for all the moms who are truly aching for their babies. No matter their age when they pass away, they will always be our babies. And your arms will always ache for them. I know many moms, online and in real life, that have this pain. This pain that I am only imagining...
I am so sorry you have to feel it...
I remember all of your children, and ache for you..."

Maybe, just maybe, the more 'comfortable' people are with us... the more 'comfortable' we can be talking, laughing, crying and remembering with them. And when asked how many children we have we CAN say;" I'm a parent to __ and a P.I.M. to__" AND they will actually UNDERSTAND!

Just a thought.

Should he know?

Last week I had a play date for my little one with a little girl and her mom and sister. As my little one played with the little girl, her mom was innocently asking him something about a sibling. He answered, "I love my sister Isabel." She (the mom, the little girl didn't pick it up) looked at me confused and said, "Isabel, I don't remember meeting her." I explained that she was born at 21 weeks and 6 days and lived for only 3 hours and 45 minutes. She was apologetic.

The thing is that my little one knows about his sister matter-of-factly. He doesn't even think twice (as I think it should be) before freely speaking of her. Is that normal? I always thought it was not only normal but beautiful. As if he almost has a bond with the sister that he can't share his life with. He always speaks of her in a positive way. I'm just questioning if I made the right decision telling him about her at such a young age.

To people whose lives have never been touched by such a loss, it may seem weird or even morbid. I want to be completely honest but, I just don't ever want him to feel the kind of pain I've had to. It's too late to change anyway.

What do you think?

Kids Say the Darndest Things

I'm driving along in the car with my little one ( just turned five) listening to the radio. I have it on a country station and he likes to hear them 'sing stories'. After listening intently to ?? singing about his daughter, he asks me to turn it down so he can talk to me. Then he asks me if I knew that "The man singing on the radio was dad." "No", I answered puzzled. "Well, it was" he continues, "Know how I know?" "How?" I answered, wondering what was whirling around in his little brain. "Because the daddy in the song said that from the first breath she breathed he knew the love of a father ...AND...when that miracle smiled up at him he loved her first." I'm stunned, vision starting to blur. He says, "Don't you get it mom? She was his miracle and she smiled at him when she was borned and he loved her first! That was daddy singing about my sister Isabel!" Amazing.

I sure did forget

When I was making the counter boxes of my babies for this blog, I realized something... I forgot the date I lost my first baby. I remember the day he was conceived. Why couldn't I remember when he died?

At first, I tried to reason that it was because I had gotten pregnant so quickly (I had a great Infertility Specialist) after losing him. I was not convinced! Next, I thought; "I'm sure I'm not the only mom who's ever forgotten." Still, I'm not buying it. I WAS the only mom who's ever forgotten! I knew the year and the month, but for the life of me I couldn't remember the day!

I go through every single piece of paperwork I could find in the baby book. Nothing. In my daughter's baby book. Still, nothing. I have only one option left(the most obvious one, of course), my hospital paperwork. Problem is it's huge! ALL my hospital paperwork starting from the first infertility visit.

My husband comes in and asks what I'm looking for, I can't break my concentration, I might miss it. So, I don't answer. He asks again and again. By this time, I'm hysterical, tears streaming, hair awry, on a mission. He's scared for me now... Ahhh, I found it! Now I can answer. Blurry eyed, I let him know that I AM the worst mom in the world. What kind of mom FORGETS the date of when her own baby dies. Her first pregnancy. After everything I went through to get pregnant. After how long we waited.

I'll never forget again. I still can't believe I forgot. But, I'm over it.

De-Lurking Week

What's de-lurking? Watchers, silent readers, who won't comment. Created by Cheryl at Paper Napkin If you stop by and read please just say hi. Let me know someone actually stops in here once in a while ;)

Every dark cloud...

I'm really not that dejected all the time. I think I can just blog better when I am. More often than not when I think of the baby it's with overwhelming love, not pain. Of course it saddens me that she (they) can't be with me now, but the love they left me with overflows. I see her beauty in the sunset, in children playing, in my son's smile, in the sharp colors of the fall leaves and the soft colors of wildflowers in spring. Everything good and beautiful reminds me...and I smile. I never thought I could live through the loss of my children. Yet now I know if I could handle that, I can handle anything, anyone, anytime, anywhere. I agree with Garth; "I could have missed the pain, but I'd of had to miss the dance."

Maybe it's just me

When my baby died everyone was so understanding and there for me. The first anniversary, again understanding. It's now been six years and it seems as if (almost) everyone has forgotten her. I don't cry as often (and now almost never in public) as when the wound to my heart was fresh, raw and exposed. But it still hurts. Not as often or for as long, but she's always going to be my baby. Why doesn't anyone understand that? I feel as if people who haven't lost one of their own children think; "Why is she still dwelling on that? It was so long ago." Or worse, "Isn't she over that yet?" Over? How do you get over holding your baby in your arms as her breaths get deeper and further apart? As you watch and pray for one more breath to come? As you hold her against your chest and know that that was her last breath? How do you get over knowing that you'll never hear her cry again, or feel her grasp your finger, or see her open her eyes and look up at her mommy, or feel her warm breath. All this only a few short hours after the joy, the unimaginable, unconditional, overwhelming love of having givin birth for the first time. Watching as a tiny perfect human being emerges from my own body. A girl! She cries while still attached to me through our umbilical cord, and though we are still one, we are two. How do you get over it? Maybe it's just me.