Approaching Doom

Cue ominous music. Approaching doom. That's how I feel. I was feeling so up and lately am feeling so down again. I know why and I know what's coming. It's like I'm standing in the middle of the street watching an 18 wheeler approach and I want to jump out of the way but I can't. My 18 wheeler is September 18th. Saturday September 18th. Blaine's expected due date. While I know logically he would most likely not be born right on that day it is still significant. Significant because all of my plans for 2010 revolved around that day. I shouldn't have to go to work tomorrow. I should be on maternity leave. I should be seeing my doctor every week now. I should be big and fat and waddling like a duck. I should be getting looks of pity because I am so hot and uncomfortable, not because I have a dead son. My daughter should have had her last day at daycare today. I was going to send her with money to order pizza for everyone. I wanted so bad for Blaine to come before the first day of school so he and I could walk Sissy to school everyday. I got half of what I wished for. He did come before the first day of school. But I will be working and he is dead so Sissy must go to daycare and they will walk her to school. I want to do something special. I had these wild plans in my head months ago about throwing a sort of baby shower on his day but one with donations to dead baby charities instead of gifts. Or I would gather friends and family together and have a balloon release. But I haven't planned anything and besides that who would come. September 18th will be 5 months and 5 days. Everyone has moved on. They moved on at 5 days never mind 5 months. I am the only one stuck here waiting to get hit by a truck, bracing for an impact I know is coming. Haven't planned anything and will most likely spend the day either just like an average Saturday...or alternatively curled up in a ball refusing to leave my bed. I don't know which sounds worse at this point.
I really am trying not to be so Eeyore. I really am. I just have to wallow once in awhile. After one stillbirth (I've officially decided that's what I'm calling it now..regardless of age 31 hours of labour is not a miscarriage) and two "possible" miscarriages in 4 months I think I deserve to wallow once in awhile.
Good news for today: my sugar fairy gave me lots of chocolate today. He must know I hate Tuesdays.

Giving It Up

I was just reading on another BLM blog about this topic as well. And it has had me thinking all day too. I have been on this scrambler ride a lot the past two weeks. I think I've seen as many highs and lows in the past 14 days as I did in the 14 days right after Blaine's birth/death. I am trying so hard to give up this grief. Saying that reminds me of the expression "give up the ghost." I believe it was used to describe the moment a person died. Seems fitting. My faith in God has never been what I would call strong. I have never loved him as much as he loves me. I have lived a pretty wishy washy Christian life. But the faith is there. I've never doubted his existence even when I was doubting his presence in my life. I have no doubts at all that he is with me. That he sustains me through the darkest moments. He cares for me and loves me. Most importantly he is now caring for and loving my Blaine. He is watching my son til it is my time to go home. And home I will go. I have no doubt of that. I like in The Shack how Jesus tells Mack that he would have done it, even if it was just for him. He would have died, even just for Mack. Even just for me. Since I had my daughter I've always had a feeling that maybe He loves me just a little more than he loves everyone else. :) I tell my daughter I don't know how I got so lucky that God sent me his best angel. Home I will go one day to be with my son and my Creator. No doubt.
So, why can't I let go of this cross I bear (no better word came to mind)? Why can't I just release this pain into his much more capable hands? My anxiety, my stress, my grief. I just want to give it up to God. I want him to take it from me and carry it as he has carried my spirit. I know he'll do it. He's right there beside me trying but I keep grabbing it back from him and foolishly thinking I can manage on my own. Foolishly trying to control it. Because I think if I can control everything around me then I can stop any bad things from happening. But I can't. And that's not his will. His will is for me to let it go. He is beside me telling me "give it to me." "Give me your pain and I will suffer in your place." "Give me your grief and I will mourn for you." "Give me your broken heart and I will heal you, I will patch it up and make it whole." And I want to I really do I just can't seem to. I think I have and then it all comes back to me.
And that is what I am dealing with now.

Choosing a Button

Input wanted!! Which one do you prefer and can someone tell me how to make a button???

option one

option two

Sunflower of my Heart

"Believe Me If All Those Endearing Young Charms" by the poet Thomas Moore:

"...the heart that has truly loved never forgets, But as truly loves on to the close, As the sunflower turns on her god, when he sets, The same look which she turned when he rose. "

The sunflower signifies pure thoughts. It symbolizes adoration and dedication. It is symbolic of dedicated love. (description found here)

I didn't realize that the sunflower is the flower of the third wedding anniversary. I celebrated my third wedding anniversary on April 14. One day after Blaine died. My son. My sunflower. I'm not exactly sure why these flowers make me think of him. I was never a big fan before. I had a friend years ago who loved sunflowers...I hope she still does. Maybe I like them because they're yellow. They stand tall and proud as I imagine he would have as a man. They are beautiful and strong, standing up against the rain and wind. They are seasonal. When the dark and cold winter comes they are gone.

I've had a pretty bitter day. Went out for lunch at work with my group. Kept thinking it should have been a lunch for me leaving on my maternity leave. Had cupcakes at the party to celebrate two people leaving our office. Should have been cupcakes with blue icing for Blaine. Was bitter about my cousin being pregnant but I have gotten over that and can now honestly say I am a little excited. Worried for her since she is young and single. But I will be there for her. I have to be. As hard as it will be for me I cannot let her do this alone, I would never forgive myself. I know how scared she is and shocked. I was only 26 when I got pregnant the first time too. I am trying to let go of the bitterness so I have been looking up items of meaning. Sunflowers, colours and scripture. I am enjoying this scripture right now and trying to hold it in my heart and erase the week I've had.

“For our present troubles are small and won’t last very long. Yet they produce for us a glory that vastly outweighs them and will last forever! So we don’t look at the troubles we can see now; rather, we fix our gaze on things that cannot be seen. For the things we see now will soon be gone, but the things we cannot see will last forever.” (2 Corinthians 4:17-18)

I am going to cuddle up with my son's ashes, watch General Hospital and cry myself to sleep.

Status Updates

I actually typed these words into my FB status today "...is debating whether to get her memorial tattoo soon or wait until she's done having dead babies." I couldn't save it though, deleted it. Because really, most of my "friends" would probably be appalled at me saying that or would ignore me and roll their eyes or call child services and tell them I've gone mad. Why is a raven like a writing desk?
"Tomorrow would be my last day of work if I didn't have a dead baby." I did actually say those words to two people at work today. Why is a raven like a writing desk?
I am really really trying hard to keep things in perspective. All I have to do is watch the news to know that millions if not billions of people on this Earth have life a lot harder than I do. I have been blessed with a loving husband, a beautiful daughter, a decent job, some pretty good friends, a normally healthy body and mind (mostly), food (fudgeos mmm), shelter, clothing (even if it is a little tight) and both my parents are living. I have so much to be thankful for. But these past two weeks have really been pushing my limits. I'm feeling a little Job right now...like what else is going to go wrong? When do I break out in sores? These past four months have been the worst of my life. When I look back at even the happy moments I've had they are overshadowed by the Descent. Our third wedding anniversary was the day after Blaine died. Our first family trip to Disney...the week after. My daughter's 5th bday...someone was missing. Our annual trip to Papa's house...someone was missing. It's always right there just beneath the surface. And it may very well be forever.
We were pretty resolved after my ultrasound on Friday that that was it. A little drama but it was over. Then Tuesday, ya Tuesday, I get a call at midnight from my doctor. First I think I'm having a nightmare, then I think it's a prank. He was just reviewing the results from my ultrasound and blood work and I need to go to emergency right away because I am probably ecotopic. I hang up and go back to bed because I am a rebel like that. I called him in the morning and he repeats everything. I drag myself to emergency alone because hubby has to work and who else wants to sit there and stare at me for 9 hours. Yes, 9 hours. 9 hours for them to determine that whatever was in my tube on Friday was now gone. Ecotopic preg? Maybe but it resolved itself. Another cyst? Maybe but it resolved itself. I guess this was good news but at this point I just want one drama free week. I want to go to Hawaii and lie on a beach and drink a fruity cocktail. But since I can't even afford to buy my son's urn right now there is no Hawaii for me.
So, I'm trying to be positive and not be all "woe is me" but I just want some good news. I want some happiness. I just want one more baby. I don't need 18. I don't need octuplets and a reality show. Just one more sweet little baby to call my own. And I'd like to not have to go through all of this drama to get it. I want it to be like it was when I got pregnant with my daughter. Hey let's not use a condom this time...bing pregnant! I ate like a pig, gained 66 pounds and loved every minute of it. Never crossed my mind that pregnancy would be anything but that.
And as I'm writing this I am on the phone with my mother and she has just informed me that my 25 year old cousin has gotten knocked up by some guy at work that she's not even dating. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

Tuesday Again? Oh Bloody *&^%

Today started off better than most. Due to a couple of early morning appts I had I actually got an extra half an hour sleep. Then it was off to therapy. Therapy session was brief. Mainly we talked about how amazing I am and how I really did it all on my own. I came into therapy with an action plan and have spearheaded my own recovery. I am the model patient. I couldn't love my therapist more at this point! So, we chatted for a bit and decided that while I would contact her if I had a relapse or needed to talk again, today would be my last official appt. I am no longer in crisis which is good but I will miss that quiet peaceful office. Then it was off to the psychiatrist. I'm not a big fan of this guy but whatever. We talked for a bit about how the meds are treating me. We talked about Blaine and how I was able to get him from the hospital and have him cremated. I did not mention to him that I sleep with the ashes although I did tell the therapist cause I know she gets it. I'm just more reserved talking to him because I feel like he might judge me. I'm sure he wouldn't but that's how I feel. I left the hospital feeling pretty darn good. Got to work. Started to go about my day. I snuck online of course to read some blogs. And then it hit me like a ton of bricks. Today is the 19th Tuesday. Every Tuesday will now have a number attached to it. Can't wait for the 543rd Tuesday. Today was the 19th Tuesday and I spent the exact moment of Blaine's death at the same hospital, on the same floor, talking about how much progress I've made in 19 weeks. And I was so concentrated on that that at the time I didn't even realize it. I had totally forgotten it was Tuesday. I forgot it was 8:40am. I forgot the only thing that seperated me from the scene of the crime was a corridor. So bye bye good day. I became increasingly agitated as the day wore on. Developed shoulder pain and headache. Hadn't the therapist just said how refreshed I looked? Puke. It didn't help that my IPOD battery died on me and so I had to listen to the drone of the keyboards clicking around me and the sound of people asking stupid questions. Thank God that this super nice guy I love at work brought me chocolate today. And my Mom who usually buys me lunch had plans and didn't invite me so I had to buy my own lunch! Okay that sounds like whining. But but but. I'm just frustrated that a great morning where I felt totally reassured and like I was making real progress turned into such a crappy afternoon. And that's how quick it is. One thought. One line on someone else's blog. One quick peek at the calendar. And I'm back scrambling around trying to find the sane girl again. And to top it off while I'm writing this I am talking to my sister on FB. Her and I are not really close. I love her and all and we get along but she lives in another province and we rarely rarely see each other. I'm talking every ten years rare. But still she is my sister. She is on my FB. I have a ticker on my FB that says "it's been blah blah blah since we said GOODBYE." I have an album of photos of Blaine's name which clearly is marked "Born and Died April 13, 2010" Almost all of my status updates are about finding strength in God or even "never thought she'd be so excited to pick up her sons ashes." One might think that even a casual observer might look at all of these things and think "Hmmm, did she lose a baby?" BIG LIGHTBULB GOING OFF ABOVE YOUR HEAD!!! or "Hmmm, several months ago I "liked" her status about being pregnant, wonder what's up with that?" I guess my sister never got it. She hasn't said one thing. NOT ONE THING. SHE HAS NOT SAID ONE THING. And here is the conversation we just had... the words in red were not part of the conversation but was what I was thinking at the time...

Her: hi elaine
7:03pm
Me : hey how are you doing? missing (her daughters name) I bet!!
7:04pm
Her: i am doing fine....i am missing her badly it was the hardest thing to do was saying goodbye (Really? I wouldn't know what that was like having)
7:05pm
Me : I see all of her facebook updates, she seems so grown up and like a very intelligent woman. You did an amazing job raising her.
7:11pm
Her: ya we did all i can tell you is teach them the right things and do as much as possable with them cause they grow up quick...(if they don't die first that is)
7:12pm
Me : we are trying to have another one but it's been a bit difficult since the baby died in April...can't seem to get pregnant for a third time! (ok maybe if I mention it she'll actually talk to me about it)
7:15pm
Her: yes i seen that on face book sorry for your loss...but for me baby day are over now i wait for grand baby hopefuly that is not for awail yet (really?)

ugh!!

Sometimes it's my Friend

This is one of the first sites I went on after I got home from the hospital. Once the morphine wore off I hit google. (Yes I am a google addict, see ). It was actually a really good resource and led me to a lot of other sites which I ended up treasuring and relying on. I haven't checked it out in awhile but figured I should pay homage to it.
I remember those early days when I was shell shocked. I would sit here in front of the computer looking at website after website about loss. Reading poems, listening to songs, googling images of dead 17 week old fetuses. Looking for any connection to what I was going through, anyone out there that I could talk to and relate to. Any sign in the universe that I was not alone. That site led me to other sites and eventually I found blogs. The first blogs of interest to me were the ones with the name requests. I was fascinated that these complete strangers would write out these baby names and take photos for other moms. It seemed so strange to me but I knew I had to have one. The first one I requested and received was from Vermont Angels. I opened my email and there it was, Blaine's name spelled out beautifully. A complete stranger had taken time from her busy day to write my sons name and take a photo of it. That means that during her day she actually thought about him. Maybe she even said his name out loud. Maybe someone asked her, "what are you writing?" and maybe she replied "Blaine." It gave me chills and tears of joy and I was hooked. I don't know how many requests I've sent off and some have been ignored or forgotten but for the most part I have received so many nice mementos. If I had not lost a baby I would have no idea how significant it is.
Then I started to really pay attention to these blogs I was perusing. I started to read all about the lost babies. So many little angels. Some reminded me of my own story, others were completely different in details. But the core of them all was the same. Grief. Grief, sadness, anger, bitterness, disbelief, joy. Yes, joy. Not in the loss but in the life. All of these mothers shared the same emotions and one of them was joy. Joy that we were able to keep these little angels with us, even for just a short time. Too short a time. But a joyful time.
I found all of these things through a simple invention. Google. And while sometimes I may hate it for feeding my paranoid delusions, I have to thank it. For resources, for mementos, for reading material and most importantly for community. For the community it led me to which has sustained me through some pretty rough days.

Welcoming Aunt Flo

I was thinking about all of the things I did differently last week when I smoked the dream pipe and thought I was pregnant. How I cut back on my coffee and only had two coffees the whole week! I drank green tea instead (the low caffeine version). I slept on my left side although I'm a stomach sleeper. I had very gentle sex with my hubby instead of the usual romp. I had a little skip in my steps thinking of all the possibilities. I sat on the subway instead of standing and gave men dirty looks when I couldn't get a seat. I rubbed my belly and called it CK. C for Caleb which is our next boy name and K for Kaitlyn which is our next girl name. I went to bed early. I started a pregnancy journal. I feel absolutely riduculous that I did all of this over a cyst! I rubbed my belly and called a cyst CK. I feel foolish. Even though it really isn't my fault and I really should sue the makers of the at home preggo test that gave me a false positive and in turn a false hope!!
Today I am welcoming Aunt Flo. How have I welcomed her? I allowed myself to curse. I said the "F" word more than once and I may have called Aunt Flo a "female dog." I normally don't curse or try not to because I think it makes me sound uneducated and don't want my daughter to hear me. I drank so much caffeine on Friday I couldn't get to sleep. I love Dr. Pepper and Iced Caps. One of either of those has the daily maximum suggested caffeine amount for a preggo woman. So, Friday after learning I was carrying a cyst not a baby I drank two of each. Yesterday I ate an undercooked Polish sausage. Listeria who? Tomorrow I'm having sushi for lunch. I went on a ride with my daughter at the Exhibition yesterday, a ride that specifically warned against pregnant women. Haha take that! Today I scrubbed my house clean with toxic chemicals. I may have inhaled too much. Or not enough? Depends on the perspective. I'm eating a bag of donuts right now instead of something healthy and I am planning on licking the extra sugar out of the bottom of the bag. I walked for ten hours yesterday straight (our annual trip to the Canadian National Ex). I wasn't going to make the excursion this year because I was supposed to be 36 weeks pregnant. I guess having a dead baby has it's advantageous. I have a bad cough so the past two nights I've been taking cough syrup so I can sleep uninterrupted.
So many things I really should not be doing but who cares at this point. If I had any alcohol in the house I'd probably be drinking too. Next month I may celebrate Aunt Flo's arrival with some wine. And chocolate. And coffee.

False Alarm

What a day. Actually today wasn't that bad as I slept most of my troubles away. Had to get up early to go to the ultrasound at the hospital. Which was a drama because my doctor forgot to send in the requisition. So, I had to yell at the woman at the desk "I may be having a miscarriage and I need an ultrasound today!!" Needless to say I got the ultrasound. And I'm not pregnant. I had a cyst in my uterus which caused my body to think it was an implanted egg. So, positive preggo test and no Aunt Flo. But the cyst burst on it's own and that's why I started bleeding yesterday. The technician was really nice. She explained it all to me although she couldn't explain why I got a cyst or if it will come back. I am somewhat relieved. It was obvious this morning that if I was pregnant I wouldn't be by tomorrow. So, at least I'm not having a loss. And at least this cyst went away on it's own. And at least the tech was able to tell me that I have perfect ovaries and a healthy looking uterus. I am very sad that I'm not pregnant. A week of dreaming up in smoke. I realized this week though that I am looking for a Blaine substitute. And I wondered if I would be able to love this baby on it's own merit. Or if I will always think of the next baby as the one after Blaine. The one sent to replace the boy I want but can't have. Logically that sounds silly to me and I know that I would love my child to death (wrong choice of word maybe) no matter what. I worried when I first got pregnant with Blaine that I would not be able to love him as much as my daughter. But it is equal. So, I know those thoughts were just a worrying momma. I had the most amazing dream last night that I adopted a baby boy named Pablo. Yes Pablo! (if you watch General Hospital you'd get it) It was such a sweet dream. Pablo was 3 years old and had been living on his own since his parents abandoned him at the age of 1. He called me Momma right away. He loved me. It was a nice dream to have and I really needed a nice dream after the night I had.
I want to thank all of you for the comforting words you sent my way. Thank you for the encouragement and the prayers. I was reading an article a couple of days about the scientifically proven power of prayer. Yes, scientifically proven. I'm no good at remembering where I read things so I can't post it here. Prayer is the one thing I can never get enough of. Thank you all. Thanks to Kendra and Julie for doing pics of Blaine's name for me this week. I really needed them. You all are awesome and I hope we all have our Rainbow (I prefer the term Pheonix though) babies soon!! Thanks Maggie for being my support through the days at work this week when I thought I was pregnant and needed encouragment. Turns out it was a false alarm but thanks for being there anyway!! Hopefully soon I will need you again.

Sometimes I just want to be a crackhoe so I can have as many kids as I want

I have been debating all week how to tell everyone, trying to think of a creative way. I also thought I didn't want to tell anyone for awhile just in case something bad happened. So, I've only told a select few, too excited to contain it for much longer. And then today it all blew up in my face. Or in my underwear if you want to get graphic which at this point I don't really care. I am in a bitter angry place right now. The kind of place where if someone looks at me the wrong way I may very well punch them in the throat. I am sitting here at my computer having a miscarriage. I don't say "another miscarriage" because Blaine was not. The term miscarriage always makes me think "miscarriage of justice." And that is exactly what this is. It is injustice that a healthy loving educated employed married mother has problems bringing another child into the world when every crack hoe on welfare can get sneezed on by a guy and pop out another mouth for my tax dollars to feed. I feel like going for a walk. A walk in my area usually brings the unwanted sight of a smoking pregnant woman or a woman pushing her 6th kid around or a woman on the bus too busy texting her friends or latest crush to pay attention to the screaming baby in the stroller. I'd like to go on a walk right now and find one of these women and punch them in right in the fucking throat. How dare they breed like rabbits while I am in the middle of losing my second child of 2010! Took a positive pregnancy test on Sunday...Tuesday I was 5 weeks along and feeling a little nauseaus. Went out and bought a pregnancy journal. How did I get so stupid to think I might actually get to finish filling this one in. Today woke up feeling fine, went to work, went to the bathroom for the 5th time to check for blood and behold! The crimson tide. Oh and not just blood but a lovely glob of something. Left work went to the doctor. My beta has dropped so it doesn't appear that I am pregnant anymore. 3 options: 1 I was never pregnant and may have a cyst in my uterus which caused my body to think it was pregnant and give a positive test result...2 I was pregnant and am not now but for some reason my cervix is still closed and only blood is coming out and if that keeps on then I will have to get a d&c, yeah my first abortion!!...3 I was pregnant and still am pregnant and am just having some issue with bleeding. Have an ultrasound scheduled for 8 am in the morning at the hospital. Have to get through the night. And I'm out of fudgeos. And now I have to make a list of who I told so I can call them and tell them "guess what another dead baby." I read a quote on someone's blog that said "are you still a mother if all you give birth to is death?"

Another Day

I am having another blah day. LOL. It's tough being back at work. I feel like I have no time for Blaine anymore. I have all day at work trying to be "normal" and then I'm at home trying to be a good mom. I'm just so tired. It's not even depression, I'm just really tired. And I have so much anxiety over the future and about having another baby. It's all I can think of. Not sure what to write today because I have a million emotions swimming around, half good and half bad. I really just want to curl up with my son's ashes, a big bowl of ice cream, some fudgeos and watch T.V. Is that horrible?

Dear Blaine

My boy, I miss you today. Like everyday but today especially. I've been thinking a lot today about having another baby. How will I cope? How will I get through nine months of stress and worry? It seems an odd request for a Momma to make to her son, but baby will you look out for me? Next time you're with Jesus, dancing in the rain; walking along a shore skipping stones; climbing trees and watching the sunset; or jus t sitting on a dock talking about life and the world; next time will you ask him to put his arms around me? Give me the strenght I need. Not to replace you baby boy. I could never replace you. My first son. My little nudger. I could never replace all of the joy you brought to my life. I feel you beside me every night when I curl up beside your ashes. I have them in the box they came in and I wrap my arms around you. Sometimes I can almost convince myself that I'm holding a little boy. Not a box. I know that's you. I know you're with me. You are my angel. And for the next little while I need you to be my guardian. For the next pregnancy I need you to get back in there and hold the little baby. Hold him or her inside me and keep them safe. Blaine I love you so much. Everyday. I am not depressed anymore but I am still so sad. I still miss you. And I wish things could have gone differently. I am so glad you are happy and healthy and at peace. But I miss you baby. I will never forget you, even if I have a dozen other kids. I have our first meeting all planned out in my head. I know you will have my garden ready for me when I get there!! Give Sadie and Lindsay a kiss for me and tell them I miss them too. I love you baby boy.

Ever since I saw you I have been thinking these lines from the song Yellow by Coldplay. The song immediately made me think of you since that is your colour. But since seeing you these words have more meaning than ever.

"You skin oh ya your skin and bones turn into something beautiful You know you know I love you so You know I love you so."

xoxo Momma

Fear of What's Next

Written by Max Lucado

I am going away” ( John 14:28).

Imagine their shock when they heard Jesus say those words. He spoke them on the night of the Passover celebration, Thursday evening, in the Upper Room. Christ and his friends had just enjoyed a calm dinner in the midst of a chaotic week. They had reason for optimism: Jesus’ popularity was soaring. Opportunities were increasing. In three short years the crowds had lifted Christ to their shoulders . . . he was the hope of the common man.
And now this? Jesus said, “I am going away.” The announcement stunned them. When Jesus explained, “You know the way to where I am going,” Thomas, with no small dose of exasperation, replied, “No, we don’t know, Lord. We have no idea where you are going, so how can we know the way?” ( John 14:4–5 NLT).
On the eve of his death, Jesus gave his followers this promise: “When the Father sends the Advocate as my representative—that is, the Holy Spirit—he will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you. I am leaving you with a gift—peace of mind and heart. And the peace I give is a gift the world cannot give. So don’t be troubled or afraid” (John 14:26–27 NLT).
As a departing teacher might introduce the classroom to her replacement, so Jesus introduces us to the Holy Spirit. And what a ringing endorsement he gives. Jesus calls the Holy Spirit his “representative.”
The Spirit comes in the name of Christ, with equal authority and identical power. Earlier in the evening Jesus had said, “I will ask the Father, and he will give you another Counselor to be with you forever” (John 14:16 NIV).
Jesus’ promise: allos—“another one just like the first one.” And who is the first one? Jesus himself. Hence, the assurance Jesus gives to the disciples is this: “I am going away. You are entering a new season, a different chapter. Much will be different, but one thing remains constant: my presence. You will enjoy the presence of ‘another Counselor.’ ”
Can you see how the disciples needed this encouragement? It’s Thursday night before the crucifixion. By Friday’s sunrise they will abandon Jesus. The breakfast hour will find them hiding in corners and crevices. At 9 a.m. Roman soldiers will nail Christ to a cross. By this time tomorrow he will be dead and buried. Their world is about to be flipped on its head. And Jesus wants them to know: they’ll never face the future without his help.
Nor will you. You have a travel companion. When you place your faith in Christ, Christ places his Spirit before, behind, and within you. Not a strange spirit, but the same Spirit: the parakletos. Everything Jesus did for his followers, his Spirit does for you. Jesus taught; the Spirit teaches. Jesus healed; the Spirit heals. Jesus comforted; his Spirit comforts. As Jesus sends you into new seasons, he sends his Counselor to go with you.

God treats you the way one mother treated her young son, Timmy. She didn’t like the thought of Timmy walking to his first-grade class unaccompanied. But he was too grown-up to be seen with his mother. “Besides,” he explained, “I can walk with a friend.” So she did her best to stay calm, quoting the Twenty-third Psalm to him every morning: “Surely goodness and mercy shall follow me all the days of my life . . . ”
One day she came up with an idea. She asked a neighbor to follow Timmy to school in the mornings, staying at a distance, lest he notice her. The neighbor was happy to oblige. She took her toddler on morning walks anyway.
After several days Timmy’s little friend noticed the lady and the child.“Do you know who that woman is who follows us to school?”“Sure,” Timmy answered. “That’s Shirley Goodnest and her daughter Marcy.”“Who?”“My mom reads about them every day in the Twenty-third Psalm. She says, ‘Shirley Goodnest and Marcy shall follow me all the days of my life.’ Guess I’ll have to get used to them.”

You will too. God never sends you out alone. Are you on the eve of change? Do you find yourself looking into a new chapter? Is the foliage of your world showing signs of a new season? Heaven’s message for you is clear: when everything else changes, God’s presence never does. You journey in the company of the Holy Spirit, who “will teach you everything and will remind you of everything I have told you” (John 14:26 NLT

The Middle

If you track anniversaries or birthdays by the day of the year than today is 4 months since Blaine was born. If you track it by actual days then today is 17 weeks and 3 days. Today is the centre. Today Blaine has been dead for as long as he was alive. 17 weeks and 3 days. The Ascent and The Descent.

How did my life change during the ascent?

I got fat. (again) I was so sick for two months. Constant nauseu all day long. My clothes got tight. I made plans for my baby shower, it was going to be Saturday July 10th at my Momma's house. I had the list made of who was invited, had planned the menu, chose someone to think up some games, picked out the prizes to hand out. I went online and setup a wish list at Sears. I planned to get most of my baby stuff there. A friend gave us a stroller to use. My mom and I picked out the car seat to go with it. My dear Aunt sent me a big box of baby clothes. All neutral colours although I already knew I was having a boy. I worried that our apartment wasn't big enough. I worried that Big Sis wouldn't want a little brother. I worried about the decision to circumsize (hubby is pro and I am con). I stressed over how much toys and clothes I knew my mother in law would buy the new baby and where I would put everything!! (when I was 9 weeks pregnant she went out and bought a bunch of shampoo and lotion for the baby!) I picked out the co sleeper we would pick up down in the US when we were on vacation. I ate a bowl of fruit salad every morning and a yoghurt. I took my vitamins. I rubbed my belly and talked to my little nudger. I researched doula's and pre natal classes. I took it easy during my workout, always partnering with another lazy person! I was nervous but not about having a dead baby because I knew that would never happen to me. I planned out all of the things I would teach my son about women, even envisioning what my future daughter in law might be like. I journalled in my pregnancy book. I envisioned exactly what my little toddler boy would look like and how I would dress him. I pictured the family photos, the perfect "million dollar family." I thought about a teenage son and how his friends would love to come over to our house. How they'd all tease him about how hot his mom was!! How we'd be the safe house...where the kids who didn't want to get drunk or high would hang out. I pictured myself breastfeeding and changing a boys diaper, trying not to get peed on. The ascent was a beautiful experience and I wish I could say I cherished it every moment. But the truth is I complained about being sick, getting fat, not being able to do much of anything because I was tired and sore. I thought those were the worst things that could happen to me. And then I wiped and there was blood and I descended into darkness.

How did (is?) my life change (changing) during the Descent?

I have seen much more of the mental health unit of the hospital then I ever care to again. I have been medicated. I have cried so much I wondered if I had any fluids left in my body. I have tasted morphine and liked it. I have wanted, needed, longed for, just one look at my dead baby. I have googled images of dead 17 week old fetuses. I have longed to go back to the hospital and deliver Blaine again, just do it one more time, just repeat that 31 hours. I have gone to places in my mind so dark I worried I might not make it back. I have been reminded of my son at every turn, every song, every t.v. show. Even listening to a silly pop tune I can relate it somehow to Blaine. I have listened to an Eminem song and it made me think of Blaine!! ("I can't tell you what it really is I can only tell you what it feels like and right now it's a steel knife in my windpipe.") I have made funeral plans for a child. I have held my sons ashes and considered ways to make them a part of my body. What if I take that little piece of bone and have it implanted under my skin? I have had more nightmares then I can remember ever having before. So much darkness. There are times when I know I could have crossed that line. That thin line between darkness and light. I could have so easily embraced the darkness and disappeared.
But in all of this there is joy. Yes actual joy.
During the descent, on the worst of days I had people who cared for me...friends, coworkers, BLM, strangers, doctors, hubby, family.
And there was God. I think I've said it before, maybe not on here but in a letter to Blaine or to God...God picked me up off of that bathroom floor on April 13th and he has carried me since. I am always reminded of that poem "Footprints."
I needed to carry Blaine for those 17 weeks and 3 days, to love him and nurture him.
And while I still don't know why I had to lose him I know now that I honour him by living in light.

Bringing Home Baby

Isn't that the name of the show where parents bring their living children home from the hospital and complain about sore breasts and sleepless nights? I wish I had those complaints right now. Tonight I carried my dead son in a plastic bag down a busy street. Praying not to get mugged, hand clinging to the handle of the bag with a ninja death grip so hard my fingers were stiff. But he is home. Blaine is sitting in the chair next to me. He is about one teaspoon of ash. There is some bone or cartilage whatever it is. And a small piece which I swear looks like skull. They put him in a little plastic baggy inside a big black plastic box. This thing was sealed so tight I had to pry it open. And of course I was so desperate to see him I was like a starving squirrel trying to open my last damn nut. I got the box open and took out the baggy. Such a little bit of ash. Just enough for Momma and Daddy's pendants. The funeral home included a cremation certificate; a laminated card with his footprints; a certificate with his footprints and date of birth (death) on it and some really nice cards I can give to family or keep all to myself, haven't decided yet. This was all wrapped up in a dark green velvet bag. And then the bag was placed in a big plastic green bag so as not to be so conspicuous as I walked home. The stationary included two poems which I will make a page for as they are rather long.
I feel so relieved to have him here. I don't know how I'm going to leave him and go to work tomorrow. I have this desire to now carry these ashes every where.
And his little footprints. Oh such sweet little feet. They actually weren't that little compared to the rest of him! But they are still so little compared to the bigness of life. A life that just wasn't good enough for him. I'm going to take these little big feet and get them tattooed on my arm. I have the design all ready. Then I can look at these little big feet every time I look down at my skin. It seems only fitting since Blaine lives in my bones.
I've taken a whole slew of photos of tons of stuff but my stupid computer is in the repair shop and we have a loaner and I can't put my pics on the computer right now.
Any one know of any good FREE collage making sites online?
In other news, I'm going to start helping Heather out with the Dead Baby Club blog so please go over and become a follower.

Day 2

I actually felt somewhat normal today at work. Day two was not so bad. The only problem is that now I am back at work I have no time to myself. I have no time with Blaine. That kind of sucks. And I am also completely drained, am not used to the long days! Went on my lunch break to Carlton Cards and tortured myself by looking at all of the baby shower invitations; baby shower thank you cards; new baby photo frames and browsed through a pregnancy journal. Perhaps if I ever get pregnant again I'll buy that one. It was really nice but it was $26.99 and I thought that's a lot of money to waste if the baby ends up dead. If I don't get to fill the whole thing with memories. That was a horrible thought. Came home tonight and took apart the flower centerpiece I brought home from the wedding I went to on Saturday. Wrote Blaine's name on a petal and took a bunch of photos. Now I'm eating a big tub of potato salad and I have no motivation to do anything else with my evening.

Not Quite the Greatest Day I've Ever Known

Today was not as bad as I envisioned. I am exhausted though. I wasn't swamped with work, had just enough to fill my plate but not keep me rushing around. Everyone was super nice about me being back. On my way to work there was a cute little boy on the subway with a little mohawk, just like Blaine would have had. It was bittersweet. I realized today that I work with people who actually care about me. It was a nice aha moment. It was good to see my supervisor again cause I think she's pretty awesome and is the only female boss I've ever liked. My manager didn't growl at me or anything. And the couple of close friends I have there gave me big hugs and big welcomes. I got to tell my good friend Lisa all about seeing Blaine and the cremation. She was like "I'm happy for you" and we both looked at each other strange and realized that was kind of morbid but you know what we meant. And this nice Grandpa guy that works there saved my coupons while I was off (he always gives me coupons and newspapers for various things). I took a "picture of Blaine" to work to put on my desk and I know people noticed but no one really commented yet. Maybe they thought I'd start crying or something. I put "picture of Blaine" in quotations cause it's not really a pic of him but one of his name that a nice BLM made for me. It's nice to look up and see his name. I had a bit of trouble with my breathing on the way to work just because I was so nervous about what to expect. Had to leave my desk a couple of times to walk around and breath. But I didn't have any chest pains. No panic attacks. I had one everyday before I was off so this was something special.
I took a preggo test today and of course I am not preggo yet. I'm broke so I was having lunch with my Mom (which she also paid for, subs which I insisted they heat although it turns out I can have all the listeria I want) and said "can you buy me a pregnancy test?" So of course she did. And I rushed in the bathroom but it was a big fat negative. Don't know what AF is up to. I am never ever in my life irregular...maybe it's the Zoloft (did I mention I switched from Prozac to Zoloft?). That's the only thing I can think of. It's got my cycle out of whack. Or maybe it's stress. Or maybe my body isn't ready yet. Or maybe I'm barren.
It got me thinking today about my daughter. If I couldn't have any other kids would she be enough. And the answer is of course. She is more than enough as she is perfect and loving and beautiful and soulful. But although she is more than enough I still want another one. Preferably a boy! But I will take any living baby God gives me.

Big Day Tomorrow

Tomorrow I have to go back to work. Ugh! I did go back to work after Blaine but have been off for just over a month. It's been really nice to be able to have sometime to myself, to cry when I want to cry, to rest when I want to rest, to obsess over every little part of this mess, to forget about every other stress in my life and just focus on this. But I can't stay home forever. I feel like the medication is actually helping me. Having gotten a second chance with Blaine has been a release. If I don't go back now I probably never will. I have to take the step. I have to test myself. We'll see.
Went to a wedding yesterday. Was nice, didn't get too depressed even though there was a woman sitting at our table who was exactly 4 months pregnant, just like I was. I wasn't sad to be sitting with her, didn't mind that she was pregnant. I was just upset because I kept thinking in my head that I should warn her. "Don't get too attached you don't have the baby home with you yet." "Don't make too many plans the baby could die any minute." I felt horrible but it's all I could think of. Someone was talking to her about not finding out if she's having a boy or a girl. What a nice surprise it would be. And all I could think was "it will surprise you more if the baby dies." It was horrible so I basically just ignored her as much as possible to keep the thoughts out of my head. Ugh!
And I'm still waiting for Aunt Flo. She's teasing me by coming a little late again this month. I'm pretty sure I'm not pregnant so she's just taking her sweet time to make me miserable again.

The Most Beautiful Ear in the World

This week was a fairly stressful week on one hand and a week of healing on the other. It was stressful making cremation plans for Blaine. But I have been healed in so many ways. For those who don't believe in miracles, there was no paperwork or any reason why the hospital still had Blaine. I know that God was keeping him there until I was ready to say "see you later." (never goodbye) The funeral home picked Blaine up at the hospital on Wednesday and I got to see him. I didn't see him when he was born except for the second he was delivered and I really only remember seeing his head at that point. The hospital had him immediately embalmed so he still looked the same. Because I had not seen him I of course had googled images of 17 week old fetuses! I thought I had a pretty good idea of what they looked like. I was pleasantly surprised that Blaine didn't look like them. He looked like a baby just really miniature. He was lying in a beautiful white box on a white linen sheet. He was on his left side. The first thing I noticed and became fixated on was his perfect ear. It was still skin tone. It was perfectly formed and it was the most beautiful ear I've ever seen in my life. He had huge feet too! Like flippers. He has these skinny little calves and then these flippers at the bottom of them! I love it, Big Sis was born with big feet too. He was leaning on left hand just like he was using it for a pillow. He was in the fetal position. Luckily the funeral director was able to do footprints but they weren't able to do handprints. He is at the crematorium now. We will most likely get him back on Monday although they've warned me that we may not get anything back. Blaine is the smallest baby they have ever cremated and he has no bone structure. It is the bone that makes the ash. So, if we do get any ash it will be less than half a teaspoon and that would be a miracle. This doesn't really bother me though. The important thing for me was that I got to see him and I got to make the plans for him. I feel like a ton of weight has been lifted off of me. And I can't thank God enough for this.
Last night I had dinner with two friends and it was nice to be able to talk about him and to tell them about his little ear and how happy I am now that I got to see him.
I have my tattoo all planned out now. It's going to have a sunflower and his little footprints and it's going to be an arm band wrapped around just above the wrist. If I'm not pregnant in September I'll probably get it then.

Making Plans That Should Never be Made

Yesterday and today I did what a Mother should never have to do. But I thank God for the opportunity. I went to the local funeral home yesterday and made the arrangements to have Blaine picked up from the hospital and cremated. We have chosen two pendants, one of a mother and child for me, and one of a baseball for hubby, to carry our son's ashes. There will not be enough left over for an urn but I will probably get this one I found anyway. I can always keep the pendants inside when they're not being worn. I have felt such enormous guilt and now I feel like the worst is behind me. I can breath again. This morning I had to go back to pay for the services. It was not half as costly as I imagined it would be, another blessing, since I'm broke! My mother came with me today. She was surprisingly supportive. Not that she isn't supportive but our family doesn't really deal with emotional stuff well. I tend to shut down, my mom falls apart and my dad withdraws. But we have come together for Blaine. My dad worried that this would make me feel worse but I explained that this is actually healing me in a way. My mom wanted to go in the chapel after we paid the director. So, we went in and she said a little prayer for our family and for Blaine. We talked about all of the loving people we know that Blaine has joined in Heaven. My old dog Sadie (yes, all dogs go to Heaven!), my cousin Lindsay who passed away from brain tumours at the age of 13, my Aunt Mary and my Grandmother. I said Blaine was probably playing catch with Sadie as we speak. I told my mom about all of the online BLM I know and I think Blaine has lots of friends up there. The funeral home will pick Blaine up today and I may go and spend some time with him this afternoon before they take him to the crematorium. He will be placed in a small white casket. If I get to see him before he goes I want to put a lock of my hair in with him and maybe a photo of our family. I have no explanation as to why the hospital kept him embalmed in the lab for all this time but I am thankful for it and will definitely not be complaining. It was a gift from my God. He knew in time I would need this. We have decided not to have a service. It would be more costly and other than me and hubby and my parents I can't think of anyone who would want to come. It's been three months and everyone else has moved on. I may do a balloon release on my due date which is fast approaching. I don't feel like I need a big service though. I just want to bring my boy home.

Tears In Heaven

Today I have this Eric Clapton song in my head

"Beyond the door

There's peace I'm sure.
And I know there'll be no more...
Tears in heaven

Would you know my name
If I saw you in heaven
Will it be the same
If I saw you in heaven
I must be strong, and carry on
Cause I know I don't belong
Here in heaven "

I am thinking that Blaine is not sad. Blaine will never feel too cold or too hot. He will never break a bone or skin a knee. I do not have to worry about Blaine being kidnapped or molested or bullied or dumped by a woman he loves. Blaine will never shed a tear of sadness. He will never have a regret. He will never have a growing pain or a pimple or a fight with a friend. Blaine will not have money problems or homework problems. He will not have to serve his country or struggle to provide for a family.

Blaine is warm. His days are filled with sunshine and at night he is a lit in the glow of a million stars. He has enough of everything he needs. He has a strong body and a loving soul. He is bathed in God's warmth. He has walked along the beach with Jesus skipping stones. He is planting his Momma a lily garden. He has a beautiful voice and uses it to sing with the angels. Blaine is happy.

I cannot begrudge him that.

He is exactly where we should all be. And where we would all be if it weren't for that darn apple and a woman's bad choice. I cannot be sad about that.

Today I am trying to look at the upside to things. The bad things Blaine will miss out on and the good things he is living with. Today I am trying not to focus on what I have lost and on my sadness.

I have been given a second chance to honour and memorialize my boy. To release him into God's loving arms. To let him know I am not saying goodbye but see you later.

I want to thank everyone who commented on yesterday's post "An Answered Prayer." It brought tears to my eyes to read the comments and to know that you are all here for me. Too often the word "love" is thrown around without any real meaning. I want you to know that I truly love you all and pray for you daily. That you have strength and joy and that our rainbow babies are not far off. I wish we all lived close by so we could have dinner together! Please see the page titled "name request." I would love to do something to honour your little ones.

An Answered Prayer

After we had Blaine we made the very wrong decision not to spend any time with him or take photos with him. We were in such shock and couldn't deal with holding our dead baby. Since he was not yet 20 weeks we were not obligated to have a funeral or service. We decided at the time that the best thing for us to do was to walk away. I let the doctors take him and I have regretted this decision since I got home from the hospital. I feel like a horrible mother. I just left him and walked away. I didn't even know what the hospital did with his body. I have assumed for the past 16 weeks that they would have disposed of him like medical waste. I know that sounds harsh. I have been in touch with a wonderful woman from a Bereavement group we go to. We were hoping the hospital had taken a photo or an ultrasound photo and kept it in my file. She was able to get in touch with the hospital on our behalf. Blaine is still there!! He is in the laboratory at the hospital and has been since birth. We can now have him picked up by a funeral home and we can do a proper service for him. I actually cried tears of joy when I read the email. "Blaine is still with us." This is an answered prayer. I have been praying for some peace from the guilt, for a way to honour my son and God answered me. We will be getting in touch with the funeral home this week and having him cremated. My husband came up with the wonderful idea of me getting a pendant to carry his ashes in on my necklace. And the rest we will get a small jar for and have with his candle holder and painting. I feel so relieved and I already feel like some of the guilt is being shed. I can finally give my son the goodbye he deserves.