Update

I realize that I haven't posted in what seems to be forever. Sorry.

I have had so many posts in my head that never found there way here. Now they're gone.
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My best friend just lost her grandmother.
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My other best friend and her family came to visit from California. For a whole week I had a two month old:)
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My 17 year old is now Dr. Jekyll and Ms. Hyde.
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Sometimes my grief and memories are like a butterfly that caught a breeze and float by so effortlessly and beautifully that all I can do is smile. Sometimes it hits like a truck manned by a reckless driver who doesn't care when and where he strikes. Lately its the latter.
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Three women in my bible study group are pregnant. They say its my water. I wish.
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I always read you're blogs, even when I don't comment or post.
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I want to buy one of these.
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I still feel like I'm in a fog a lot of the time. Remembering my moms words describing herself...I think it might be menopause.
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I love getting mail. I just do. Some of my recent mail treasures are souvenirs from Niobe, (Thank you, I love them!) surprise packages from Jen (Thanks, I love them too!) and letters from my nephews in California.
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I went to Sea World (yay!) and had heatstroke (boo!)
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My memorial garden looks like a miniature forest. I trimmed back my oregano and rosemary plants. I offered the trimmings to the neighbors and everyone wanted fresh oregano but no takers for the rosemary. I also got rid of three bags of morning glory vines that thought they owned the entire garden. They were thrown in the trash, their punishment for trying to choke out every other living thing in their path. I kept all the basil. Newly planted there are two mexican birds of paradise. One for my grandmother and one for my uncle. I was happy to see a hummingbird hungrily lunging at my bleeding hearts.
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A very sweet friend of mine is going through a very hard time and it makes my heart so sad for her.
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I have just introduced my children to Gilligan's Island. I rented the series from netflix. They love the show.
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I wish I could something that makes a difference.
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My husband and my six year old are playing their new wii game, Indiana Jones. I can hear them arguing and playing and can't tell which is the six year old.
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I miss my baby girl so, so much. And my mom too.

She's Gone

You can shed tears that she is gone
or you can smile because she has lived.

You can close your eyes and pray that she'll come back
or you can open your eyes and see all she's left.

Your heart can be empty because you can't see her
or you can be full of the love you shared.

You can turn your back on tomorrow and live yesterday
or you can be happy for tomorrow because of yesterday.

You can remember her and only that she's gone
or you can cherish her memory and let it live on.

You can cry and close your mind, be empty and turn your back
or you can do what she'd want: smile, open your eyes, love and go on.

Anonymous

When a baby is destined to die

Jeanne Deibert knew as soon as she saw the ultrasound. Read more...

Don't forget to launch the video.

How Many Children?

At a gathering I was asked how many children I had. I answered, "Five living and a daughter who I lost right before Little One." She asked me how old she was and we had a nice conversation. I was proud to have mentioned my sweet baby girl.

Five minutes later another woman came up to me, complimented me on my children and asked how many I had. Without hesitation I replied, "Five."

In consistency I'm lacking, though in love for my baby girl I never waiver.

Sushi everyone?

Just about every person(adult) I know likes sushi. I don't. Is this odd or does everyone else in the world but me like it?
How about you?
Your friends?

Spring

Out of hiding

I have had such a hard time climbing back up this time. After recovering from a stomach virus, followed by the flu doing its rounds at my house, I got a stomach virus again. Wha...? Why? Oh, that's right...because it's ME! Anyway, right in the midst of it all my moms death flooded in around me like like a dark, heavy, overwhelming cloud. I still can't believe... I guess I just fell into a (seemingly bottomless) pit of depression or sadness or something. Because I'm not good with {{sharing}} my feelings (in real life) I don't think anyone around me knew. It still breaks my heart when I think of her...

My youngest (living) daughter picked the middle of this time to lose her mind. In the process this rebellious, seventeen year old bag of raging hormones with a bionic mouth almost made me lose mine as well. Oh well, c'est la vie.

Now that I can focus again I want to congratulate Niobe for her limerick chick award I love her winning entry!

A Stillbirth Story

We said hello ... and goodbye
Couple chronicles life after loss of daughter.

Read the article.

Quick Update

I'll get back to posting more regularly...really.

My Father-in-law died two days ago. He had been sick for quite some time. He knew it was coming and said what he wanted said. He lived in Taiwan (he was military and his second wife is from there) so we met only once. We kept in touch and were close. He was a good man. I miss him.

The flu has taken up residence here! My older kids brought it home from school (of course.) It has infected the majority of our family and several friends. Yesterday I couldn't get my temperature under 103 until evening. When "Little One" had it I thought he would quit breathing every time he coughed. My poor husband has to go to work with it. You would think that they wouldn't want it to spread. Unfortunately what's on their minds is that he has no more sick leave and they need him there.

I hope you're all staying healthy!

Study: Caffeine may boost miscarriage risk

Anything that can give us a little more insight on giving our babies a fighting chance... is a good thing. Read this.

I just had surgery and am recovering very slowly...but surely.

I miss reading all your blogs. I can't wait to catch up. I hope you're all well!

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.