I was supposed to go in for my ultrasound tomorrow.... but woke up this morning and thought it would be a good idea to go today. If I kept the appointment for tomorrow, I would have to take Colin out of school early, and then what would I do if something went wrong and I got bad news with my 6 year old in the room.
Luckily, they were able to get me in today. Mark already had plans with one of his clients to golf today, but Jeanne thankfully offered to meet me up at the appointment.
I packed my hospital bag and left it in the trunk of the SUV... just in case. I'm so tired of being out of control that the one little bit of control.. such as making sure that I have MY stuff in case of an emergency... gives me a lot of satisfaction.
3 weeks ago we were told that Reagan would never be over the 10th percentile. No hope, no way, no how. The best possible situation would be if she did get to the 10th percentile, but that was unlikely. He told me, as I sat there fighting back tears to not scare Colin, that the most realistic goal would be that she wouldn't drop any lower than she already had (which at this point was the 6th percentile).
Lo and behold my little monkey proved him wrong and weighed in at an estimated 4lbs 3oz, putting her in the 19TH percentile. So take that, Doc!
I can't wait to see my OB tomorrow and tell him the good news... especially considering he already knows I didn't like the other doctor to begin with (talk about terrible bedside manner).
I am so so SO proud of my little "roo" and am so happy that she has decided to quit the "drama queen" act for the time being and behave herself... even if it's just for now. : )
Thursday, May 3, 2012
Monday, April 30, 2012
32 weeks
I haven't posted in a while. I've been so mentally and physically exhausted that even though I really wanted to blog, I couldn't bring myself to do it. Let's catch up, shall we?
As said before, my doctor was planning on starting non stress tests (NSTs) at 30 weeks. At 29w6d I went in for my ultrasound at the hospital for a growth check. Colin had the day off school and Mark was stuck at work, but I still felt confident that day.
Reagan only gained 7 oz in the 3 weeks since my previous ultrasound, putting her in the 6th percentile. We've been diagnosed with IUGR (intrauterine growth restriction). The next thing I knew the tech was leaving the room and came back with the doctor, 2 residents, and another ultrasound technician. It was all I could do to keep myself together. My phone was dying, my 6 year old was sitting next to me, and I was so angry...Angry at this whole process. Angry with the worry I've been carrying around with every single ounce of me for the past year trying to have a baby in our arms that could come home with us. Angry there is nothing I did to cause this and nothing I could have done to prevent it. Just plain angry. I've always said I don't care what happens to me, but so help me God I won't allow things to happen to my kids. And here I am... helpless.
Mark and I have told limited people. One, I don't want to be bombarded by a million questions from everyone and their cousin. Two, I don't want people worrying.... Lord knows I'm all over that department. But most importantly, I don't want Reagan to be viewed as the "sick baby" or that there is something "wrong" with her. She is perfectly healthy.... everything is functioning just as it should. She's just small. Period.
The doctor has had me drinking 4+ protein shakes. They're nasty. Stupid thing to complain about. Obviously, I'm doing it... just as I inject myself twice a day in the little bit of extra skin I have left on my belly. I'm doing whatever I have to do...whatever Reagan needs. It is just difficult seeing other people...hearing stories of drug addicts.... having children and miraculously they are somehow okay. It makes my heart break for those that are having problems conceiving and for those that have lost their little ones when they did anything and everything "right".
On a lighter note, Jeanne hosted my baby shower the following day at the Butterfly House. It was WONDERFUL! She is so darn detailed it's ridiculous (and another reason why I love her to pieces). The theme was purple and butterflies and man... is that girl good. We received so many wonderful gifts, ate great food, and were so lucky to be around such supportive family and friends. We truly are blessed.
I went for my first NST that Tuesday and Reagan passed. I went back on Friday and her heartrate was low... the lowest it's ever been. It's typically in the 140-150 range and I was watching it at 112-120. Again here I am laying on an exam table by myself totally helpless. It is so infuriating. The doctor saw her heartrate jump up a few times and it was responsive, so he told me to watch my kick counts and for any bleeding and to come back in the following week.
We had another baby shower (this time with my husband's dad's side of the family) and once again were so blessed by everyone's generousity... it was just very difficult for me because I was so upset with the test results from Friday.
Last Tuesday her heart rate was back up where it ussally has been and we quickly passed the NST... amniotic fluid looked great. Mark's mom came with me and we were both laughing at Reagan just kicking the crud out of the monitor.
Friday the heartrate was lower again. Mark was with me and was nearly falling asleep listening to Rea's heartbeat. Her heart wasn't reacting like it should have been, so Dr. Forseter had me drink some soda and it did the trick! She started moving all over the place and her heart was reacting just like it should. Again, amniotic fluid levels were good and we were able to see her practice breathing on the ultrasound in the office.
I have another NST tomorrow, one on Friday, and the next ultrasound at the hospital on Friday as well. I am excited to see my little monkey but also extremely nervous and anxious... I am hoping and praying that these protein shakes are doing something and helping her grow...
The past few weeks have been lonely, in all honesty. Very very lonely inside my "deep" thinking head with me, myself and I as my only company. There are a few people who know what is going on... obviously my husband knows, his mom, and a few select friends... but I find that I divy up information and my feelings about it. I know that others probably view me as an open book, but as I reflect back I find that I allow others to see a small window inside of my thoughts. Noone really knows the depth of how much all of this bothers me... how deep my daily pain in waking up to Reagan kicking and getting Colin ready for school and thinking of Gabby and Ryan...and it sounds so stupid. As extremely grateful as I am for my family I will never not miss my babies. Ever. It's an empty aching hole in my soul that noone else... not even another baby... can replace. The aching isn't as rough as it was a year ago, but it is still very much there. I've been trying to bottle up the pain recently. I feel like I'm not giving Reagan what she deserves by still hurting so bad over Gabby and Ryan and thinking about what my 6 month old daughter or my 2 month old son should be doing and what they should look like. On the flipside I feel like I am somehow letting go of both of them by my excitement over Reagan's upcoming arrival. I know that both trains of thought are not helpful or "right", but they are real. I am very anxious for the next few weeks, daily praying that we can get to 37 weeks and that Reagan is healthy. It's hard because I don't trust my body. It failed Gabrielle and it failed Ryan. It failed me. It failed my husband. Many times I feel like a failure as a mother and as a wife.... my hormones and emotions have been all over the board. I don't complete the tasks that I'd like to and I don't have the patience most days that I want to have and that Mark and Colin deserve. I am so fearful of my body once again failing and it costing my daughter her life. It's enough to drive a person mad. And so, because I don't expect anyone to understand... to really understand... I just try my best to keep my deepest feelings and fears to myself. It's manifesting itself in my lack of energy and my lack of patience and I hate it. I hate being a baby loss mom. I hate that my babies were stolen from me. I hate that my son has to explain to people that although he's an "only child" he isn't really an only child. I don't even have words for it without sounding like a 2 year old having a temper tantrum. It just isn't fair. (see... I told you I'm a hormonal trainwreck)
I just want my baby girl to be okay. This roller coaster ride is taking everything out of me but somehow I keep finding more of myself to give. Part of being a mom, right?
As said before, my doctor was planning on starting non stress tests (NSTs) at 30 weeks. At 29w6d I went in for my ultrasound at the hospital for a growth check. Colin had the day off school and Mark was stuck at work, but I still felt confident that day.
Reagan only gained 7 oz in the 3 weeks since my previous ultrasound, putting her in the 6th percentile. We've been diagnosed with IUGR (intrauterine growth restriction). The next thing I knew the tech was leaving the room and came back with the doctor, 2 residents, and another ultrasound technician. It was all I could do to keep myself together. My phone was dying, my 6 year old was sitting next to me, and I was so angry...Angry at this whole process. Angry with the worry I've been carrying around with every single ounce of me for the past year trying to have a baby in our arms that could come home with us. Angry there is nothing I did to cause this and nothing I could have done to prevent it. Just plain angry. I've always said I don't care what happens to me, but so help me God I won't allow things to happen to my kids. And here I am... helpless.
Mark and I have told limited people. One, I don't want to be bombarded by a million questions from everyone and their cousin. Two, I don't want people worrying.... Lord knows I'm all over that department. But most importantly, I don't want Reagan to be viewed as the "sick baby" or that there is something "wrong" with her. She is perfectly healthy.... everything is functioning just as it should. She's just small. Period.
The doctor has had me drinking 4+ protein shakes. They're nasty. Stupid thing to complain about. Obviously, I'm doing it... just as I inject myself twice a day in the little bit of extra skin I have left on my belly. I'm doing whatever I have to do...whatever Reagan needs. It is just difficult seeing other people...hearing stories of drug addicts.... having children and miraculously they are somehow okay. It makes my heart break for those that are having problems conceiving and for those that have lost their little ones when they did anything and everything "right".
On a lighter note, Jeanne hosted my baby shower the following day at the Butterfly House. It was WONDERFUL! She is so darn detailed it's ridiculous (and another reason why I love her to pieces). The theme was purple and butterflies and man... is that girl good. We received so many wonderful gifts, ate great food, and were so lucky to be around such supportive family and friends. We truly are blessed.
I went for my first NST that Tuesday and Reagan passed. I went back on Friday and her heartrate was low... the lowest it's ever been. It's typically in the 140-150 range and I was watching it at 112-120. Again here I am laying on an exam table by myself totally helpless. It is so infuriating. The doctor saw her heartrate jump up a few times and it was responsive, so he told me to watch my kick counts and for any bleeding and to come back in the following week.
We had another baby shower (this time with my husband's dad's side of the family) and once again were so blessed by everyone's generousity... it was just very difficult for me because I was so upset with the test results from Friday.
Last Tuesday her heart rate was back up where it ussally has been and we quickly passed the NST... amniotic fluid looked great. Mark's mom came with me and we were both laughing at Reagan just kicking the crud out of the monitor.
Friday the heartrate was lower again. Mark was with me and was nearly falling asleep listening to Rea's heartbeat. Her heart wasn't reacting like it should have been, so Dr. Forseter had me drink some soda and it did the trick! She started moving all over the place and her heart was reacting just like it should. Again, amniotic fluid levels were good and we were able to see her practice breathing on the ultrasound in the office.
I have another NST tomorrow, one on Friday, and the next ultrasound at the hospital on Friday as well. I am excited to see my little monkey but also extremely nervous and anxious... I am hoping and praying that these protein shakes are doing something and helping her grow...
The past few weeks have been lonely, in all honesty. Very very lonely inside my "deep" thinking head with me, myself and I as my only company. There are a few people who know what is going on... obviously my husband knows, his mom, and a few select friends... but I find that I divy up information and my feelings about it. I know that others probably view me as an open book, but as I reflect back I find that I allow others to see a small window inside of my thoughts. Noone really knows the depth of how much all of this bothers me... how deep my daily pain in waking up to Reagan kicking and getting Colin ready for school and thinking of Gabby and Ryan...and it sounds so stupid. As extremely grateful as I am for my family I will never not miss my babies. Ever. It's an empty aching hole in my soul that noone else... not even another baby... can replace. The aching isn't as rough as it was a year ago, but it is still very much there. I've been trying to bottle up the pain recently. I feel like I'm not giving Reagan what she deserves by still hurting so bad over Gabby and Ryan and thinking about what my 6 month old daughter or my 2 month old son should be doing and what they should look like. On the flipside I feel like I am somehow letting go of both of them by my excitement over Reagan's upcoming arrival. I know that both trains of thought are not helpful or "right", but they are real. I am very anxious for the next few weeks, daily praying that we can get to 37 weeks and that Reagan is healthy. It's hard because I don't trust my body. It failed Gabrielle and it failed Ryan. It failed me. It failed my husband. Many times I feel like a failure as a mother and as a wife.... my hormones and emotions have been all over the board. I don't complete the tasks that I'd like to and I don't have the patience most days that I want to have and that Mark and Colin deserve. I am so fearful of my body once again failing and it costing my daughter her life. It's enough to drive a person mad. And so, because I don't expect anyone to understand... to really understand... I just try my best to keep my deepest feelings and fears to myself. It's manifesting itself in my lack of energy and my lack of patience and I hate it. I hate being a baby loss mom. I hate that my babies were stolen from me. I hate that my son has to explain to people that although he's an "only child" he isn't really an only child. I don't even have words for it without sounding like a 2 year old having a temper tantrum. It just isn't fair. (see... I told you I'm a hormonal trainwreck)
I just want my baby girl to be okay. This roller coaster ride is taking everything out of me but somehow I keep finding more of myself to give. Part of being a mom, right?
Tuesday, April 3, 2012
Dear Reagan (28 weeks),
We're in the 3rd trimester baby girl! Daddy and I have been working hard to get ready for you. Your nursery is for the most part set to go.... and Momma has been doing quite a bit of clothes shopping for you (I can't help it.... everything is just so darn cute!) Oma and I went to Babies R Us the other weekend to go over the registry that Daddy and I made there so make sure we put everything on it in time for the baby shower next weekend that Aunt Jeanne is hosting. Oma got your coming home outfit and I can't wait to bring you home in it.
Here's your nursery, darling:
^^ Your crib^^
^^ The picture that Colin drew for you.^^
^^ Our little reading nook... I plan on lots of cuddling and story times in this part of the room!^^
Daddy and I saw you on 4D ultrasound this past weekend and it was by the far the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life. You had your arms up behind your head and stretched out with your ankles crossed like a little lady... you looked like you were relaxing in a hammock! Seeing you open your eyes and your mouth opening and closing was just breathtaking. You are so beautiful, Reagan, I don't even have words.
^^ your pretty little feet^^
^^ eyes open!^^
^^ look at that sweet little mouth : ) You can see your right elbow bent because you refused to move your arms from behind your head, silly girl^^
See? I told you you were beautiful.
59 more days until we're induced. There's still so much to do but I really wish it was just June 1st already. I can't wait to finally hold you safe and sound.
In the meantime I'll keep holding my phone to my belly while Pandora is playing Chopin. I love watching you kick like crazy in there... let's just try not to kick the phone onto the floor again, okay?
Love you, my sweet baby
Momma
Here's your nursery, darling:
Daddy and I saw you on 4D ultrasound this past weekend and it was by the far the most amazing thing I have ever seen in my life. You had your arms up behind your head and stretched out with your ankles crossed like a little lady... you looked like you were relaxing in a hammock! Seeing you open your eyes and your mouth opening and closing was just breathtaking. You are so beautiful, Reagan, I don't even have words.
59 more days until we're induced. There's still so much to do but I really wish it was just June 1st already. I can't wait to finally hold you safe and sound.
In the meantime I'll keep holding my phone to my belly while Pandora is playing Chopin. I love watching you kick like crazy in there... let's just try not to kick the phone onto the floor again, okay?
Love you, my sweet baby
Momma
Tuesday, March 27, 2012
Gabby's 1st Birthday
I can't believe it's already been a year since we found out our baby didn't have a heartbeat. Some days it feels like life has always been this way, but most others feel like it just happened yesterday. I can say from my experience with Colin that being a parent is a very selfless sort of love... I don't think children ever truly appreciate all that you do for them, but regardless you wouldn't change a thing. I believe that being a baby loss parent is even more selfless.... you love someone you never could hold, who will never hug you back or return your "I love you's". Many other people don't recognize you as a parent to the child that you lost... some think that you may be down for a few days but you'll be back to your old self. I often think of everything prior to March 27, 2011 as "old me" and every day after as "new me"... a new me I'm still getting to know. Just when I think I have it all figured out I still catch myself off guard sometimes. I don't think that grieving your child is ever something that you truly "figure out"... I think it is an ongoing process that changes as time passes.
I have dreaded this day for the past year. I like to think of Gabby having the most fabulous birthday party with all of the other babies who were lost too soon and the joy they must be experiencing celebrating the day that she went to heaven. The incredibly petty part of me kicks in and I want to be the person to throw her that birthday party.... to decorate and plan a huge bash celebrating the anniversary of the arrival of my little girl. Colin and I picked up a little round birthday cake yesterday from the store so that the three of us can sing "Happy Birthday" tonight. The woman at the store asked Colin who the cake was for and he simply told her it was for his little sister in heaven and that Jesus was throwing her a HUGE party. I'm sure it wasn't the answer she was expecting. I am so incredibly proud of my son and his pure honesty. He tells everything as if it's a fact of life, and sadly the fact in our lives is that he does have two other siblings who have died before we could get to know them. I am envious of his honest view of life that doesn't allow for the complications of the adult mind. He doesn't see anything odd about having a birthday cake... in fact he wanted the plates and napkins and balloons.... the whole nine yards. He greeted me this morning with "Momma... it's Gabby's birthday!!!!" just as he would if she was sitting right next to him.
So the question I was presented with today was "how do you celebrate a life that had barely started?". The best answer I can give today is you keep going. You keep loving and you keep remembering.... even if that love isn't being returned..... even if no one else remembers or thinks it's bizarre that you do. You honor your child by speaking of them, or by a moment of silence, or your silent tears that noone sees. There are so many ways to celebrate the tiny little miracle you carried inside of you and none of them are wrong.
And so to my baby girl.... Happy happy first birthday in heaven, my angel. Words can't tell you how loved and missed you are. I can't wait until the day I can celebrate with you.
All my heart, soul, and love,
Momma
I have dreaded this day for the past year. I like to think of Gabby having the most fabulous birthday party with all of the other babies who were lost too soon and the joy they must be experiencing celebrating the day that she went to heaven. The incredibly petty part of me kicks in and I want to be the person to throw her that birthday party.... to decorate and plan a huge bash celebrating the anniversary of the arrival of my little girl. Colin and I picked up a little round birthday cake yesterday from the store so that the three of us can sing "Happy Birthday" tonight. The woman at the store asked Colin who the cake was for and he simply told her it was for his little sister in heaven and that Jesus was throwing her a HUGE party. I'm sure it wasn't the answer she was expecting. I am so incredibly proud of my son and his pure honesty. He tells everything as if it's a fact of life, and sadly the fact in our lives is that he does have two other siblings who have died before we could get to know them. I am envious of his honest view of life that doesn't allow for the complications of the adult mind. He doesn't see anything odd about having a birthday cake... in fact he wanted the plates and napkins and balloons.... the whole nine yards. He greeted me this morning with "Momma... it's Gabby's birthday!!!!" just as he would if she was sitting right next to him.
So the question I was presented with today was "how do you celebrate a life that had barely started?". The best answer I can give today is you keep going. You keep loving and you keep remembering.... even if that love isn't being returned..... even if no one else remembers or thinks it's bizarre that you do. You honor your child by speaking of them, or by a moment of silence, or your silent tears that noone sees. There are so many ways to celebrate the tiny little miracle you carried inside of you and none of them are wrong.
And so to my baby girl.... Happy happy first birthday in heaven, my angel. Words can't tell you how loved and missed you are. I can't wait until the day I can celebrate with you.
All my heart, soul, and love,
Momma
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Reagan at 24 weeks
I went for another ultrasound last week with Colin in tow to check her growth (it's a concern with babies who only have one umbilical artery). She was measuring in the 29th percentile so the doctor was happy (and I was relieved!). The ultrasound tech said she was measuring exactly to date and that she weighs about 1lb 5 oz. She also saw that she's been swallowing (another good sign!) and that she's been practice breathing. I was told that they look for that at 28 weeks so to see it now made everyone very happy campers.
Before the ultrasound Colin and I went to IHOP for breakfast and were surrounded by a ton of older women in there for their weekly coffee clutch. As ususal he was a big hit and they fawned all over him, and he boasted that he has a baby sister in his momma's belly. Then one of them asked if this was his first little sister and immediately the panic mode in me set in all over again. Colin looked up from our "tic tac toe" game on the table and smiled at her and said "No, I already have a baby sister. Her name is Gabby. She lives in heaven with my brother Ryan and God." Then he went back to beat me in yet another game and didn't think to see anyone's reaction. I was so incredibly proud of my son.... I envy his ability to speak the truth with such innoncence and honesty and not think twice about how anyone would react.
After the ultrasound we went to "Build A Bear" and Colin made Reagan her first teddy bear.
I can't wait until she's here and he can give it to her. Just 12 more weeks until we go in to be induced.
Wednesday, February 29, 2012
my little leapster
Dear Ryan,
Today is so beautiful outside. For February 29 it's nearly 70 degress outside, your momma has her legs exposed for the first time in months, and the sun just keeps shining. I couldn't be happier to see such nice weather. I'm not one for cold weather anyway, but especially not today.
You've been on my mind so much lately, and were the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning.
Today was your due date.
It would have been a beautiful day to bring you into the world, too. It makes me sad that neither of us will ever experience that.
I remember when I first found out I was pregnant with you and was told that you would be due on February 29. At first I thought it was so neat that you would be a leap year baby, but then I wondered how you would feel about it... only having a "true" birthday every few years. It was so petty of a thought... as long as you were here safe and sound it doesn't matter what day you came on.
I found the little socks that I bought after I found out you were coming. I had a feeling you were a boy, and now that your sister is due to come in June I don't know what to do with them. They sit on the corner of the dresser. I think I'll keep them there.
I'm sorry I couldn't hold you for the first time today. I love and miss you so much.
All my heart,
Momma
Today is so beautiful outside. For February 29 it's nearly 70 degress outside, your momma has her legs exposed for the first time in months, and the sun just keeps shining. I couldn't be happier to see such nice weather. I'm not one for cold weather anyway, but especially not today.
You've been on my mind so much lately, and were the first thing I thought of when I woke up this morning.
Today was your due date.
It would have been a beautiful day to bring you into the world, too. It makes me sad that neither of us will ever experience that.
I remember when I first found out I was pregnant with you and was told that you would be due on February 29. At first I thought it was so neat that you would be a leap year baby, but then I wondered how you would feel about it... only having a "true" birthday every few years. It was so petty of a thought... as long as you were here safe and sound it doesn't matter what day you came on.
I found the little socks that I bought after I found out you were coming. I had a feeling you were a boy, and now that your sister is due to come in June I don't know what to do with them. They sit on the corner of the dresser. I think I'll keep them there.
I'm sorry I couldn't hold you for the first time today. I love and miss you so much.
All my heart,
Momma
Monday, February 27, 2012
the dreaded question
Pregnancy, for some reason, in ways becomes an invite to a lot of unwanted questions about your personal life. At work, I ignore these people or fire back with some snide remark as some of these questions are completely inappropriate and quite frankly, noone's business. But then there's the most common question.... the one I used to ask others and not think twice.... and it's a question that is asked out of complete curiousity; noone meaning you any harm.
How many children do you have?
For most people, they can answer this question in a totally natural way. Not me. Not anymore. Do I lie or do I tell the truth? I almost immediately go into panic mode, with my brain going a million miles a minute thinking how thing conversation could take so many different turns and which one I was prepared for at that specific moment.
I think back to "old me"... I would happily say that I had one son, named Colin, and bring out my phone to show off pictures of my incredibly handsome baby boy.
All of that has changed in the past year. The truth now is that I have two sons, and two daughters. The response I would expect is "oh my!" or "You're awfully young to have 4 children already" or for someone to ask me for pictures. I could easily bring forth a picture of Colin.... I have about 50 on my phone alone. I can show them Reagan's ultrasound, or they can see my visible protruding bump. I don't have pictures of Gabby or Ryan. I never will.
It always poses internal complications when someone asks how many children I have... The easy answer for conversational reasons is to say one with one on the way... and then my heart breaks. Like I've denied Gabby and Ryan's existence... like they didn't deserve to be acknowledged. Or I can come back with the honest and complicated answer. The truth. I have 4. One here, one on the way, and two in heaven. Which ususally is followed by uncomfortable silence for the person who asked. But at least my heart feels free.
How many children do you have?
For most people, they can answer this question in a totally natural way. Not me. Not anymore. Do I lie or do I tell the truth? I almost immediately go into panic mode, with my brain going a million miles a minute thinking how thing conversation could take so many different turns and which one I was prepared for at that specific moment.
I think back to "old me"... I would happily say that I had one son, named Colin, and bring out my phone to show off pictures of my incredibly handsome baby boy.
All of that has changed in the past year. The truth now is that I have two sons, and two daughters. The response I would expect is "oh my!" or "You're awfully young to have 4 children already" or for someone to ask me for pictures. I could easily bring forth a picture of Colin.... I have about 50 on my phone alone. I can show them Reagan's ultrasound, or they can see my visible protruding bump. I don't have pictures of Gabby or Ryan. I never will.
It always poses internal complications when someone asks how many children I have... The easy answer for conversational reasons is to say one with one on the way... and then my heart breaks. Like I've denied Gabby and Ryan's existence... like they didn't deserve to be acknowledged. Or I can come back with the honest and complicated answer. The truth. I have 4. One here, one on the way, and two in heaven. Which ususally is followed by uncomfortable silence for the person who asked. But at least my heart feels free.
Wednesday, February 15, 2012
Dear Reagan
Hey baby girl. : ) You're quite the mover and shaker today... it may sound a bit muffled in there but your brother and I like to read "Mr. Seahorse" to you at night.... the book by Eric Carle about daddy fish taking care of their babies.
We saw you yesterday at the doctors office and it made for such an awesome Valentine's day. I could stare at you forever. You are just beautiful.
Daddy felt you kick for the first time the other night... keep up those big kicks little girlfriend!
I worry often if you can sense sadness inside of me, and I just want you to know that I'm not sad about you AT ALL. Sometimes I get sad because I miss your brother and sister and because I worry about losing you. I can't bear it. I'm doing my best to be strong, and I need you to be strong too sweetheart. Please.
The doctor says that we're being induced on June 1st. I can't believe it.... that's only 3 1/2 months away. Stay strong my darling. We have a whole life to live together.
Love,
Momma
We saw you yesterday at the doctors office and it made for such an awesome Valentine's day. I could stare at you forever. You are just beautiful.
Daddy felt you kick for the first time the other night... keep up those big kicks little girlfriend!
I worry often if you can sense sadness inside of me, and I just want you to know that I'm not sad about you AT ALL. Sometimes I get sad because I miss your brother and sister and because I worry about losing you. I can't bear it. I'm doing my best to be strong, and I need you to be strong too sweetheart. Please.
The doctor says that we're being induced on June 1st. I can't believe it.... that's only 3 1/2 months away. Stay strong my darling. We have a whole life to live together.
Love,
Momma
Please don't....
Please don't tell me that you understand, when you have no idea. When you haven't lost a baby. Don't tell me you can understand what it is like to have to call around town to find a place to bury your child and actually have to have the words " my baby" come out of your mouth when the director asks who you are looking to bury.
Please don't tell me what it's like to see a baby on the ultrasound screen and realize there's no movement... to hear the words "I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat" ringing in your ears. That all of the hopes and dreams that you once had have gone up in flames and will never, EVER, come to fruition. That you understand jumping out of bed in the middle of the night because you thought you heard a baby crying. That you dream, or have nightmares rather, of seeing your deceased babies and chasing after them as some stranger takes them away from you.... but you never catch up.... and they are gone forever.
Please don't tell me that you know what it's like to try to cut a deal with God and ask him to take you instead so that they can have a chance... that you really, truly, come to a point of being completely okay with dying if you know that your babies will be alive.
Please don't tell me that you "know" or that you "understand" what it's like when you haven't lost a child. Be so grateful that you haven't. Be jubilantly grateful. Be so thankful that there is not a missing hole in your heart that nothing and noone can fill. Be happy that people don't avoid you or just stop talking to you all together. Be glad that people don't excuse themselves from the room or quickly change the subject when you bring up your child's name... like just hearing their name means the black plague.
Tell me that you're sorry. Tell me that you're here for me. Tell me that my feelings are "understandable". But please, I beg of you... please do not tell me that you understand when you do not. You cannot.
Please don't tell me what it's like to see a baby on the ultrasound screen and realize there's no movement... to hear the words "I'm sorry, there's no heartbeat" ringing in your ears. That all of the hopes and dreams that you once had have gone up in flames and will never, EVER, come to fruition. That you understand jumping out of bed in the middle of the night because you thought you heard a baby crying. That you dream, or have nightmares rather, of seeing your deceased babies and chasing after them as some stranger takes them away from you.... but you never catch up.... and they are gone forever.
Please don't tell me that you know what it's like to try to cut a deal with God and ask him to take you instead so that they can have a chance... that you really, truly, come to a point of being completely okay with dying if you know that your babies will be alive.
Please don't tell me that you "know" or that you "understand" what it's like when you haven't lost a child. Be so grateful that you haven't. Be jubilantly grateful. Be so thankful that there is not a missing hole in your heart that nothing and noone can fill. Be happy that people don't avoid you or just stop talking to you all together. Be glad that people don't excuse themselves from the room or quickly change the subject when you bring up your child's name... like just hearing their name means the black plague.
Tell me that you're sorry. Tell me that you're here for me. Tell me that my feelings are "understandable". But please, I beg of you... please do not tell me that you understand when you do not. You cannot.
Thursday, February 9, 2012
20 weeks
Not too long ago, Bob and Michelle Duggar went in for their anatomy scan, only to find their baby girl no longer had a beating heart. They planned a beautiful memorial service to honor their little one, who they named Jubilee Shalom, and at that service had very tasteful pictures of her. For some reason, these pictures spread like wild fire and with them came much criticism. It was very difficult for me to see and hear such terrible things said about this family as they suffered such a great loss. In many ways blaming the Duggars for what had happened, and saying that the child was better off in the grave than with them, completely infuriated me. The focus lost all priority: instead of being on an innocent life that was taken too soon, it became a personal bashing fest of the entire Duggar family. Regardless of how someone feels about the way they choose to live their lives, or how many children they decide to create, why couldn't a simple sentiment of "this family is grieving the death of their child" take the forefront?
Saying that a picture of Jubilee's perfect tiny feet is "morbid" and "disgusting" literally makes me ill. I can promise you one thing: if I would have been in their position I would have done the exact same thing. Their home will never be filled with baby pictures of Jubilee, or her first birthday, or her first day of school, or her prom, or her wedding. This is the only picture they have to remember her by. Shame on people for being so critical, especially considering they have never been in this position. Like I've said many times, if you don't like it, then don't look at it. Pretty simple.
Mark and I were watching TV last night after Colin had gone to bed and had the TLC channel on. During the commercial break a season preview of the Duggars came on and it was very upsetting to me for a multitude of reasons. One, they found out Jubilee had passed at their ultrasound, which Mark and I just had ours 5 days ago. Two, seeing her and Bob crying reminded me all over again of laying in the emergency room with my husband and begging and pleading with God to wake me up from my nightmare. I don't expect people to understand who haven't had to experience something like this, but I would expect a little humanity and respect.
Tomorrow is also my fellow BLM friend's daughter's 3rd birthday in heaven. Sydney was born at 20 weeks and lived for two hours. Sydney's mother has taken the trajedy and the pain of her death and has decided to do something with it... she is such an advocate for baby loss families and an amazing support system. Her strength in fighting for her daughter's memory is truly inspirational. So Sydney, happy happy birthday sweet baby. You are so very loved.
Saying that a picture of Jubilee's perfect tiny feet is "morbid" and "disgusting" literally makes me ill. I can promise you one thing: if I would have been in their position I would have done the exact same thing. Their home will never be filled with baby pictures of Jubilee, or her first birthday, or her first day of school, or her prom, or her wedding. This is the only picture they have to remember her by. Shame on people for being so critical, especially considering they have never been in this position. Like I've said many times, if you don't like it, then don't look at it. Pretty simple.
Mark and I were watching TV last night after Colin had gone to bed and had the TLC channel on. During the commercial break a season preview of the Duggars came on and it was very upsetting to me for a multitude of reasons. One, they found out Jubilee had passed at their ultrasound, which Mark and I just had ours 5 days ago. Two, seeing her and Bob crying reminded me all over again of laying in the emergency room with my husband and begging and pleading with God to wake me up from my nightmare. I don't expect people to understand who haven't had to experience something like this, but I would expect a little humanity and respect.
Tomorrow is also my fellow BLM friend's daughter's 3rd birthday in heaven. Sydney was born at 20 weeks and lived for two hours. Sydney's mother has taken the trajedy and the pain of her death and has decided to do something with it... she is such an advocate for baby loss families and an amazing support system. Her strength in fighting for her daughter's memory is truly inspirational. So Sydney, happy happy birthday sweet baby. You are so very loved.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
February 7, 2012
This past week has been full of mixed emotions. We had our anatomy scan at the hospital on Friday and were able to see Reagan. The tech was awesome and explained what we were seeing the entire time and even gave us a 3d view of her face! We have another picture of her perfect little feet next to each other. She's just the most beautiful little thing ever. : )
She left the room to have the doctor review everything. He came in and told us that she only has one umbilical artery (instead of two) and my heart dropped. I tried my best to stay off the of my best friend "google" search, but that didn't work out so well. Everything I read made me that much more upset. I can't get into all of it right now... it will just bring me to a bad place.
I spoke with my doctor yesterday and he was very reassuring, telling me that we'll continue to keep a close eye on everything and make sure that she is growing on schedule and there is enough amniotic fluid.
A year ago yesterday, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. It was Gabby. I remember how elated I was and couldn't wait to get home to tell Mark and Colin. I cried the happiest tears that day.
Mark surprised me with Reagan's crib last night when I got home from work. I don't think he realized that a year ago yesterday was when we found out about Gab. I think it's a woman thing. I'm so glad he brought the crib home. It feels so good to have a crib in our house.... to start having visual reminders that we have a baby on the way and a feeling of optimism when I see it. I love seeing her room starting to come together and stand in the nursery imagining what she will look like sleeping in her lavender bedroom.
I want it to be June so badly. I want her to be here and be healthy and safe and focus on settling in to our lives with a new bundle of joy to hold, cuddle, and kiss.
Reagan will never replace Gabrielle or Ryan. I think some people think that once she gets here that we'll move on from this grief stage and forget.... like all should be well. Don't get me wrong. Reagan has already and will continue to bring so much joy, but her arrival will never make me forget about my babies.
I think about them daily. I wonder what they are doing and if they know how much I think of them. If they know how much they are loved and wanted.... if they know all of things I have in my heart that I so badly want to say to them.
She left the room to have the doctor review everything. He came in and told us that she only has one umbilical artery (instead of two) and my heart dropped. I tried my best to stay off the of my best friend "google" search, but that didn't work out so well. Everything I read made me that much more upset. I can't get into all of it right now... it will just bring me to a bad place.
I spoke with my doctor yesterday and he was very reassuring, telling me that we'll continue to keep a close eye on everything and make sure that she is growing on schedule and there is enough amniotic fluid.
A year ago yesterday, I took a pregnancy test. It was positive. It was Gabby. I remember how elated I was and couldn't wait to get home to tell Mark and Colin. I cried the happiest tears that day.
Mark surprised me with Reagan's crib last night when I got home from work. I don't think he realized that a year ago yesterday was when we found out about Gab. I think it's a woman thing. I'm so glad he brought the crib home. It feels so good to have a crib in our house.... to start having visual reminders that we have a baby on the way and a feeling of optimism when I see it. I love seeing her room starting to come together and stand in the nursery imagining what she will look like sleeping in her lavender bedroom.
I want it to be June so badly. I want her to be here and be healthy and safe and focus on settling in to our lives with a new bundle of joy to hold, cuddle, and kiss.
Reagan will never replace Gabrielle or Ryan. I think some people think that once she gets here that we'll move on from this grief stage and forget.... like all should be well. Don't get me wrong. Reagan has already and will continue to bring so much joy, but her arrival will never make me forget about my babies.
I think about them daily. I wonder what they are doing and if they know how much I think of them. If they know how much they are loved and wanted.... if they know all of things I have in my heart that I so badly want to say to them.
Friday, January 27, 2012
sweet lullabies
I'm not one for the toys or moblies that go in or on baby's crib to lull them back to sleep... 1: you will fly through batteries at a ridiculous rate, and 2: once they go off at their designated time, you're going back into the room to start them all over again... which means baby sees you and it kind of defeats the purpose.
With Colin, I took my oldest cousin's wife's advice and played a CD on repeat. It was perfect. Colin's favorite was a cd called Lullaby Bereuse. It's a collection of lullabies in French. For those of you that don't speak French, I'm sure you would find it sweet because it's such a beautiful language. For those of you that do speak French, I'm sure you would thoroughly enjoy it like it did. There is just something magical about simple words in a foreign language. One little whimsical song is about little different colored chickens that I always got a kick out of (noone else ever understood that the song was about chickens), but the one that always worked wonders of Colin was "Bonne Nuit" (Good Night) and was sung to the tune of Brahm's lullaby.
It was my go to song to soothe and comfort him, and I remember like yesterday singing it to him whenever he was upset and him immediately calming down and staring up at me with his big brown eyes and thick band of dark eyelashes, reaching up towards my face with his tiny little hands. Singing that song is one of my fondest memories of bonding with my son... it's like he just understood all of the love that was surrounding him and that there was no need cry.
As Colin grew and was learning to speak, he would pick up on the words of the song, and now at almost 7 years old he still enjoys singing what he calls "the crying song" with me. Hearing his sweet little voice sing such simple French words brings me back to his nursery in the middle of the night, completely exhausted but not wanting to trade those moments for the world.
These memories are what brought me to thinking of what special songs I would have with my future children... would they share "Bonne Nuit" with me and Colin, or would we have our own special songs.... just for us.
When we found out that we are having a baby girl, I thought back to my childhood and was so excited to share some of my favorite things with my daughter. I loved Disney movies. I remember my dad had taped Sleeping Beauty twice on the same VHS so that when it was over it would replay ( in order to avoid a complete melt down from me), and I loved Cinderella. Which triggered a memory of my favorite song from Cinderella. "A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes"
A dream is a wish your heart makes
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep Have faith in your dreams and someday
Your rainbow will come smiling thru
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true
I find it overly appropriate for our rainbow baby... the one who gaves us hope after the storm. I can't wait to hold her and sing this to her... and I hope that as she grows older she'll remember this song and know to never give up on her dreams, no matter what heartache may come.
With Colin, I took my oldest cousin's wife's advice and played a CD on repeat. It was perfect. Colin's favorite was a cd called Lullaby Bereuse. It's a collection of lullabies in French. For those of you that don't speak French, I'm sure you would find it sweet because it's such a beautiful language. For those of you that do speak French, I'm sure you would thoroughly enjoy it like it did. There is just something magical about simple words in a foreign language. One little whimsical song is about little different colored chickens that I always got a kick out of (noone else ever understood that the song was about chickens), but the one that always worked wonders of Colin was "Bonne Nuit" (Good Night) and was sung to the tune of Brahm's lullaby.
It was my go to song to soothe and comfort him, and I remember like yesterday singing it to him whenever he was upset and him immediately calming down and staring up at me with his big brown eyes and thick band of dark eyelashes, reaching up towards my face with his tiny little hands. Singing that song is one of my fondest memories of bonding with my son... it's like he just understood all of the love that was surrounding him and that there was no need cry.
As Colin grew and was learning to speak, he would pick up on the words of the song, and now at almost 7 years old he still enjoys singing what he calls "the crying song" with me. Hearing his sweet little voice sing such simple French words brings me back to his nursery in the middle of the night, completely exhausted but not wanting to trade those moments for the world.
These memories are what brought me to thinking of what special songs I would have with my future children... would they share "Bonne Nuit" with me and Colin, or would we have our own special songs.... just for us.
When we found out that we are having a baby girl, I thought back to my childhood and was so excited to share some of my favorite things with my daughter. I loved Disney movies. I remember my dad had taped Sleeping Beauty twice on the same VHS so that when it was over it would replay ( in order to avoid a complete melt down from me), and I loved Cinderella. Which triggered a memory of my favorite song from Cinderella. "A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes"
When you're fast asleep
In dreams you lose your heartaches
Whatever you wish for, you keep
Your rainbow will come smiling thru
No matter how your heart is grieving
If you keep on believing
the dream that you wish will come true
I find it overly appropriate for our rainbow baby... the one who gaves us hope after the storm. I can't wait to hold her and sing this to her... and I hope that as she grows older she'll remember this song and know to never give up on her dreams, no matter what heartache may come.
Thursday, January 26, 2012
it's been a while...
It's been a while since I've posted. I'm not exactly sure why. Let's start with an update:
Baby is doing great! I'm currently 19 weeks and she's (yep, she's still a she!) quite the wiggle worm. It started with flutters and now her movements are much more pronounced. We've decided to name her Reagan Elizabeth (Elizabeth after her Gabrielle). I love that Reagan is of Irish origin meaning "the king's child" because she certainly indeed is our little princess, and Elizabeth meaning "God's promise". We're planning on painting her nursery tomorrow night a beautiful shade of faint lavender and I can't wait to walk past a room every day to remind me that she is coming.
I've been so focused on researching everything online and web "window shopping" for her, and although I think it's normal for every pregnant woman to do it to some extent, I often wonder if I'm overdoing it. I've done a lot of reflection the past few weeks and have concluded that it is my way of staying positive... of telling myself "she IS coming and you need to be ready!"... of saying "everything is going to be okay."
What's thrown me off the saddle has been my mental difficulty with the second trimester. I had myself so concerned with getting through the first without miscarrying again and thought I would settle comfortably into the second and just enjoy. And I do enjoy, believe me. But I often find my mind racing with anxiety and concerns about something going wrong.
When the Duggar's lost their baby, one of my subconsious thoughts was "What will we do? Will we have a memorial? Will people think we are totally insane because we have pictures of her?... because they cannot see the beauty in the few minutes that we had with her? Because they are naive and just don't understand?".
One of my reactions to a baby shower for Reagan was google searching "what do you do with baby shower gifts when the baby dies".
It's not healthy. I know this. I can't control it. I obviously want none of these things to happen... I feel so much love for this baby that the thought of her being taken away completely terrifies me.
And I chalk a lot of it up to not preparing myself. To being naive and thinking that after the first trimester my anxieties would be gone.
I've taken quite a bit of heat for this blog.... I've received a few messages from people trying to tell me that my blog is insulting and negative and that I need to be thankful for what I do have and quit dwelling on my miscarriages. So once again, I will reitterate:
This is my blog. Noone is forcing you to read this. My grief is MY grief and I will not be told what to do with it. Not that I have to explain this to anyone, but I'll continue. I am terribly grateful for my life.... I have an amazing husband, and gorgeous little boy, a beautiful home, and a loving family. None of these things take away the fact that I have lost two children, and losing two children doesn't negate the fact that my spouse is fantastic, my son's a great as they come, and we adore our family and our home. So again, this is my journey. I am working through everything. If you already knew everything there was about losing a pregnancy and moving forward, then I don't see why you are here. YOUR negative and insulting comments are not wanted or necessary. And start from the beginning and read through. Picking some of the most "down" entries does not speak for the entire blog.
Baby is doing great! I'm currently 19 weeks and she's (yep, she's still a she!) quite the wiggle worm. It started with flutters and now her movements are much more pronounced. We've decided to name her Reagan Elizabeth (Elizabeth after her Gabrielle). I love that Reagan is of Irish origin meaning "the king's child" because she certainly indeed is our little princess, and Elizabeth meaning "God's promise". We're planning on painting her nursery tomorrow night a beautiful shade of faint lavender and I can't wait to walk past a room every day to remind me that she is coming.
I've been so focused on researching everything online and web "window shopping" for her, and although I think it's normal for every pregnant woman to do it to some extent, I often wonder if I'm overdoing it. I've done a lot of reflection the past few weeks and have concluded that it is my way of staying positive... of telling myself "she IS coming and you need to be ready!"... of saying "everything is going to be okay."
What's thrown me off the saddle has been my mental difficulty with the second trimester. I had myself so concerned with getting through the first without miscarrying again and thought I would settle comfortably into the second and just enjoy. And I do enjoy, believe me. But I often find my mind racing with anxiety and concerns about something going wrong.
When the Duggar's lost their baby, one of my subconsious thoughts was "What will we do? Will we have a memorial? Will people think we are totally insane because we have pictures of her?... because they cannot see the beauty in the few minutes that we had with her? Because they are naive and just don't understand?".
One of my reactions to a baby shower for Reagan was google searching "what do you do with baby shower gifts when the baby dies".
It's not healthy. I know this. I can't control it. I obviously want none of these things to happen... I feel so much love for this baby that the thought of her being taken away completely terrifies me.
And I chalk a lot of it up to not preparing myself. To being naive and thinking that after the first trimester my anxieties would be gone.
I've taken quite a bit of heat for this blog.... I've received a few messages from people trying to tell me that my blog is insulting and negative and that I need to be thankful for what I do have and quit dwelling on my miscarriages. So once again, I will reitterate:
This is my blog. Noone is forcing you to read this. My grief is MY grief and I will not be told what to do with it. Not that I have to explain this to anyone, but I'll continue. I am terribly grateful for my life.... I have an amazing husband, and gorgeous little boy, a beautiful home, and a loving family. None of these things take away the fact that I have lost two children, and losing two children doesn't negate the fact that my spouse is fantastic, my son's a great as they come, and we adore our family and our home. So again, this is my journey. I am working through everything. If you already knew everything there was about losing a pregnancy and moving forward, then I don't see why you are here. YOUR negative and insulting comments are not wanted or necessary. And start from the beginning and read through. Picking some of the most "down" entries does not speak for the entire blog.
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