Regrets

What do you regret most about the events surrounding your loss?
If you were able to move past this regret, how did you let it go?
If you're in the process of letting it go, how are you working on this?
If you're still holding onto it, why can't you let this regret go?

I have many regrets with my pregnancy and the loss of our boy Blaine. Starting from not documenting my pregnancy enough to not handling his birth very well. I guess the thing I regret the most is how he was born and the fact that we didn't spend anytime with him. We just left him. I was lucky and got a redo, at least with having his body cared for and cremated. Looking back though I wish I could tell myself how much that time meant and what I would have liked to do with it. I am so envious of those that have photos of their children. Those that took the time to cuddle and bath and dress their babies. While Blaine would have been too small for clothes (he was the size of my hand) it would have been nice to care for him. I wish I could redo all of that. I don't think I will ever let these things go. This regret has just become a part of the new me. I walk with it, I hold it, I mourn it. I can't let it go and I don't even think I want to. I am a big believer in taking responsibility in your own actions and learning from them. This is one of those times when I have to look at what I did, what I did wrong, learn from it and keep it.

Apples and Oranges

Last night was a rough night. My energy was totally drained and of course when I get that tired I start to get emotional. Boob man, or Caleb as we call him, basically wanted to eat for 4 hours straight last night. When you're breastfeeding this is tough to say the least. It exhausted me. Good news is that he is up past his birth weight so these marathon sessions are doing him good. Yesterday I sat and relieved the whole labour process. Analyzing it basically. I don't feel bad about any of it. I have my boy home with me so anything that happened at the hospital can stay at the hospital. The thing is I was comparing it to Blaine's birth. Which wasn't really a "birth" at all. And you can't compare the two because one was full term and one wasn't; one was a delivery of a healthy baby boy and the other was the death of a baby for reasons unknown. I know that logically but it still is playing through my mind. All of the things I could have or should have done differently. I never thought to spend time with Blaine, never thought it would hurt me that I didn't; didn't take anything to the hospital with me, no camera, no blankie, nothing. I was completely unprepared. And even the physical part of it. Having now gone through the labour process, all of the signs and symptoms I had with Blaine and didn't recognize at the time. I know I can't beat myself up over what happened. It's not like he cares how his body came into this world. But at emotional times like last night, it's where I go, what I think of. I want a redo. I want to go back to that day knowing what I know now and redo it. As painful as it was. Not that that would really solve anything. It just sucks that the memories I have of that day are ALL bad.

Caleb's Arrival 05/27/11

Yes, I realize now I am a bit of a drama queen. May 26th was Caleb's due date and I was fretting so much about him being late and having to be induced and I felt like such a failure. Yes, pure silliness I know but you can't always control your emotions. By Thursday at lunch I was resigned to the fact that I would have one more week of being pregnant and would have to be medically induced to have the baby. I wasn't happy but I was content in having at least a timeline. Thursday I felt fine. Picked Abby up at school and came home. I was on the computer working on DBC and at 4:04pm I had my first contraction. I brushed it off as a fake one, not getting my hopes up for nothing again. From 4:04pm to 6:15pm they kept coming about every 17 to 20 minutes. They weren't painful though so I figured false. From 6:49pm until 8:24pm they started coming about every 10 minutes. I was still skeptical because they really weren't that painful. I could talk and walk and everything even in the middle of a pain. I called the hospital and they said to give it more time. Since my cervix had been stimulated by the Dr on Wednesday it could have brought on fake contractions which may very well go away. So we waited. From 8:24 until 10:30 contractions came every 5 to 7 minutes. By 10:30pm they were quite painful. We decided to go to the hospital. I was still trying not to get my hopes up. We got to the hospital and I was examined at about 11pm. I was 3 centimetres! Yeah, he was on his way. At this point the contractions were so bad I couldn't function. By 12am I was asking for the epidural! I actually don't feel bad about this. Even with all of my talk about having a natural birth I was in so so much pain I just couldn't take it. And at this point I just wanted my son, I didn't care about doing anything "the right way." Just get my kid! By 1:30am I was in my delivery room and drugged. The epidural only froze my right side (funny cause with Abby it only froze my left side). So, unfortunately I could still feel everything on my left. It hurt, a lot. Hubby and I tried to relax and we basically just waited. We listened to his heartbeat and talked. Hubby had a nap and I played games on my cell phone. By 7:45am I was fully dialated. Now, it was just waiting to see if I felt the urge to push. At 8:30 I started to get the urge. It took me 4 contractions and 20 minutes. Once I realized it was now soley up to me I went into Mommy Warrior mode. Apparently 20 mins is a short time for pushing but I was a champ and got him out!! I could hear hubby choke up when his head came out and then again when his body emerged. Hubby cut the cord and then I heard Caleb cry! I just kept saying over and over in my head "Praise God he's alive, he's alive, he's alive." They passed him to me and I could barely hold back the tears. I must have repeated "he's alive he's alive" in my head about 100 times. I was so happy and shocked at the same time. A part of me was still not quite believing things would go well. But they went perfectly. 17 hours and 46 minutes of labour. We spent Friday at the hospital. We were home by Saturday around 1pm. Caleb is really only put down when we're having dinner. Big Sis is totally in love and is such a huge help, getting me my phone or a diaper or trying to be quiet when he's sleeping. She is so excited and can't wait to take him to school and show him off. He's such a blessing and we are so happy.

Painful Memories

I have a pain in my right side. It is the exact pain in the exact spot that I had the weekend before I went into labour with Blaine. I wonder if it is a sign that I will be going into labour in the next few days. This does not feel good. I had forgotten that during labour I will be experiencing the same physical pain I felt one year, one month and one week ago. When I had this pain before I ignored it thinking I had just hurt a muscle working out or something. It wasn't until after that I thought it must have been the first sign. And now I have it and it's bringing up a whole bunch of memories I don't want to have right now. If not in the next few days, then at least in the next week I will be having the same physical experience I had before, although worse this time as Caleb is full size and Blaine was so very miniature. I don't know why I never thought about this before or thought about how it was going to make me feel emotionally. It honestly just never crossed my mind. It's making me want the drugs. Forget about natural birth I can't live through that without falling apart emotionally. Or can I? I don't know. I do know with Blaine I gladly allowed the dr to numb me with morphine. This pain in my side has brought up so many memories and grief and self doubting. I can't even be excited right now that it may very well mean the onset of labour. I did say to hubby last night that I would most likely go into labour on Sunday since it was a Sun with Abby and a Sun with Blaine. It's not the physical pain I'm afraid of, never have been, I'm a tough cookie. It's the crap that's going to come with it. All of the memories I have tried to put away this past year. You do your best to remember the good times and forget the bad.

One Year

I kept waking up throughout the night remembering. One year ago I wiped and there was blood; one year ago I stood in the doorway to my bedroom and told my hubby "I'm bleeding;" one year ago we had just gotten to the hospital; one year ago we were placed in a room; one year ago Sasquatch came and told me I was having a miscarriage. And so on and so on. One year ago at this time I had already been in the hospital labouring for just over 8 hours. One year ago at this time I was waiting for my baby to die. We were still in the ER room. Today will be filled with those reminders. I would love nothing more than to curl up in my bed right now and sleep until Thursday. If I weren't pregnant I may consider getting drunk by noon. I wish I had a photo or something tangible to touch and look at from my time at the hospital. Normally when you labour for 31 hours and you sit remembering the experience you have a baby to touch and look at. I just wanted it to be over with though. I wanted out of the bed and out of the hospital. I knew I couldn't save him so my instinct was to protect myself. That didn't work so well. Everything I did to "protect" myself made things 100% worse once it was all over with. The guilt ate and at times still eats at me. If I have to relive it all why can't I go back and redo it all? I doubt that I will ever forget the sequence of events or the feelings that I went through as I waited. The waiting was the cruelest part. You would think things like this would happen quickly. Not for me though, I had to labour for 31 hours before Blaine was "born." I just lied in that hospital bed waiting. My hubby took me for a walk around the floor but other than trips to the bathroom that was it. He went for a couple of walks but other than that he never left my side. My hubby has this thing with hospitals. He won't sit. So for most of the time he was pacing or standing over me. Finally at about 9pm he sat down and luckily he did let himself sleep some through the second night. It wasn't just tough on me. I could see it in his eyes. I'm sure he's spending today remembering in his own way what he was doing and feeling a year ago today.

A Better Day

What a week. Two more work weeks to go, can you tell I'm thrilled to be leaving? I'm actually feeling a little better now. I think I just needed a really good cry. Which I had the other night. Shut myself in the shower and allowed myself to completely fall apart. Rare for me. Usually I have to keep it together at work, keep it together in front of Abby and now I have to keep it together because Caleb feels and hears everything. But the other night it was just too much. I needed the release and it did help. I realized that my mind can really only take one thing at a time. The morbidly good thing about focusing on Blaine and his approaching "birth"day is that I am no longer feeling anxious about Caleb or Abby. I guess it's my mind's way of protecting itself from overload but while I'm focused on one grief I can't even think about anything else.
I was reading a book on husband coached labour by this doctor. Everything he said about labour I totally agreed with and it made sense. It places a lot of responsibility on the husband for making sure I'm comfy and helping to relieve my anxiety. He has a 96% success rate in his own practice. Meaning, 96% of his patients are able to go through labour with no medical interventions. I don't think many doctors can say that. I was really impressed with some of his advise and will definitely try the techniques. However, he is a bit wacky. He grew up on a farm and is all about being natural, including suggesting pregnant women not wear underwear so the vagina can breath! I thought, okay he's a bit eccentric. Then I got to the chapter on how a husband can help his wife through pregnancy loss. I had to stop reading the book when he dropped the term "natural selection." And talked about how the "womb would expel anything not viable to start over again." It was a very clinical way to talk about loss and I was appalled to be honest. I can't imagine what my husband's reaction would have been to reading that chapter after we lost Blaine. And if he had of tried to make me feel better with some of those lines from the book I would have killed him! So, the part of the book about getting through labour without intervention was great...the rest in my opinion was a big pile of crapola.

Update

This is the end of week one of me weaning off of my Zoloft. So far so good. I haven't had too much of an increase in any anxiety and the physical symptoms have been controllable. They are basically the same as things you would experience while pregnant anyway. Caleb has been bouncing around regularly and seems to be doing fine. I was a little worried he might be having some withdrawal from the meds because for two days he was quieter than usual. Could have just been a growth spurt though as he seems bigger and stronger this week. Thanks to everyone who has sent me a prayer and support. I thought it would be much tougher than it has been and maybe it isn't as tough because I have that support. I've been making sure to pray more and to rest more. I've been trying to eat a little healthier this week and not exert myself. I've been using a "buffer" at work to deal with stressful situations (basically my coworker who I send to do the stuff I don't want to do like deal with the bully supervisor or answer this other guy's millions of questions).
I'm at 27 weeks now. It's hard to believe that within the next 10 to 12 weeks I'll be going into labour. I've had a couple Braxton Hicks already and am loving it! I know that sounds crazy but I can't wait to feel that first contraction. I am in no way a lover of pain but each pain will bring my boy closer to coming home. I've been thinking a lot about what I want in terms of labour this time around. This will be my third L&D and there are things I want done differently than I had them with Abby and Blaine (well first I want him alive and home when it's over). Of course a part of me is wishing I could check into the hospital at 36 weeks and have them just take Caleb out so I can bring him home faster!! I want it to be more special than that though. I want him to come when HE is ready to come. I want to make it a smooth and beautiful transition from womb to room. I am really going to sit down this time and go over a birth plan. I'm way too anxious to birth at home although I'd love it. What I will do is stay home as long as possible and head to the hospital at the last moment (I joke that I want to see his head before we leave for the hospital). I've enjoyed the Braxton Hicks because they are yet another sign that I am progressing nicely along.
Thank you to everyone who has been praying for our friend's baby. His birth was a tough one for me as he was due just a week or two before Blaine's due date. His mom and I were pregnant at the sametime. It was really exciting and I was hoping to have the mom friend to share stories with as they grew. Visiting him for the first time after he was born was extremely difficult and emotional. I sucked it up though and even held him for a bit. The boys should be playing together at this time. But one is dead and the other is sick. It's heartbreaking and I hope he makes it through this and lives a long and healthy life.

Deja Vu

Or another apt title "The second worst night of my life." Coincidentally it all began with a wipe. At 9:20 last night I went to the washroom, wiped and there was a large blob of mucous. I immediately thought it was my mucous plug. It was about 3 to 4 inches long and looked like a fat worm. It was yellowish white. Of course I rushed to the computer and googled. The images that came up looked exactly like what I had but I had no blood in mine. Usually the plug includes some bleeding. I called this 24 hour nurse help line and they advised that I should see my doctor within 24 hours. Hubby and I decided not to wait but to go to the ER. I was already crying, sobbing actually. He called his sister to come watch Abby. I could hear him on the phone, he could barely say the words. My heart broke. I could only think that my body was killing another one of his babies. His sister arrived and I scraped myself up long enough to change out of my pj's and into some jeans and a sweater. I could barely get my socks on I was crying so hard. I called my mom and said "we're on our way to the hospital." She cried out "why" and I could hear the pain and emotion in her voice. She was losing another grandchild. We drove to the hospital and into the same parking lot we parked in in April. We parked one row forward and a couple spots down from where we parked April 12th.
Talk about deja vu. I held his arm and we walked into the ER just like we did so many nights ago. I immediately recognized the woman at registration and one of the nurses behind the desk. Luckily it was a slow night so we got a room right away. It thankfully was in a seperate area then last time but it was the same room I was in in August when I had the ecotopic. I lay down on the bed which was extremely uncomfortable, it was actually an exam table not a bed. I covered myself in the blanket and cried. I made a to do list. All the things I had to do now that I was losing another baby. Who I had to tell, calendars I had to burn, funeral plans to make, I would have to spend my Christmas shopping money on funeral arrangements. I wondered to myself how I would carry the monkey's ashes around. I couldn't exactly open the pendant that carries Blaine because it is sealed. I thought it would be nice to bury him up at Papa's in the garden but I didn't know if it was legal or not to do that and would the hospital let me take the body. And where would we store him til the spring? All of these things played through my mind, endlessly. I worried about other people too. How would I tell the guy I sit next to at work (I know that sounds strange). He is always asking how I am and worries about me everytime I'm even a couple minutes late. I worried mostly for Abby. She would wake up and I wouldn't be there, just like back then. I would have to come home from the hospital again and tell her the baby is in Heaven. How many dead babies before she starts to hate Heaven?
My hubby paced. He's strong, always strong for me, keeping me calm. But I could see the emotion on his face. He turned his phone on and went online searching for alternative answers to the mucous. Two things got me through this, one my husband who kept telling me all these other possibilities and who read stories of women who lost their plug early but still had babies. He is always the optimist. He is the light to my dark. Second, I shouted out in my head a prayer, "Father don't leave me, just stay with me here." That's it. No plea for the baby. No long winded promise of things I'll do forever if he saves the baby. Just be with me. And so the two most important men in my life picked me up and kept me from falling apart. I felt more calm and was even able to have a nap before the doctor came.
Finally at about 1am a Dr came in and gave me an u/s. I woke up and looked at him and thought for a second it was Doogie! It wasn't though, just a replica. He did an u/s and we woke up monkey! He was sleeping peacefully and actually looked like he was having a bit of a tantrum being woken up! he kept squirming away from the probe but we saw the strong heartbeat, his hands, his feet, elbows and knees. The Dr tried to assure me that this meant everything was fine but I said no, that doesn't mean anything. We had an u/s when we got to the hospital with Blaine too and he was fine. It's not the baby it's me! He said he'd get the gynecologist to come and do an internal exam. We waited until 3:30 am. We talked a bit, I napped some more. We joked about how I'd have to go on bedrest for 20 weeks. The resident gyno came and gave me an internal exam. Thank God everything was fine. Cervix is long and closed. She said the mucous was just built up in there and all came out at once whereas usually it comes out a little at a time. Thank God! The monkey was safe and sound. Hubby and I held each other and I could see his eyes tear up with joy. We finally got out of the ER at 5am.
Last night was a walk down memory lane. It was a fresh reminder that living is a day to day activity. It was validation for me that I need this baby. I also realized more than ever that this baby is linked to Blaine in so many ways. In a good way, this is the replacement baby. This is the baby that will complete our family. I hate it when parents put expectations on their kids and their kids are born with these "jobs." And here I am, I've given this baby the biggest job of all. Monkey has to live. Because Blaine didn't. And we don't want to hurt like that again. I thought about Blaine all night. About how I failed him. All of the things I did wrong when he was born. The things I missed out on like bathing him, wrapping him in a blankie, taking photos, taking his hand and foot prints. I made the decision on the drive to the hospital that if Monkey was going we would do all of those things. We would cherish the few hours we got with him, even if it was just his body. But luckily I didn't have to do those things. And for the first time I don't think I'll ever have to. I think Monkey's going to make it.

I've had this in my head for the Monkey since I found out I was pregnant

"So afraid to love you but more afraid to lose
clinging to a past that doesn't let me choose
once there was a darkness, a deep and endless night
you gave me everything you had, oh you gave me light"

I will Remember You - Sarah McLachlan

It's Tuesday

Why does every week have to have a Tuesday in it. I hate Tuesdays. At this time 16 Tuesdays ago I had a little baby boy growing healthy inside of me. I was at work minding my own business. Probably eating a yogurt. At this time 15 Tuesdays ago that little baby boy was dead, whether it was a fluke or not ultimately it was my body that failed him. I was lying in a hospital bed crying. I was surrounded by people who love me and the only thing I wanted was my little nudger. The room was hot. It was a small room with the windows closed so it was stuffy. I could smell the sweat and the blood. I can still smell the blood. I was lying in my own blood. I had it on my legs. I was hooked up to the most annoying I.V. machine in the world. They had put the I.V. in wrong, up on the inside of my elbow instead of on my wrist. So, every time I moved my arm the machine beeped. I was on Oxytocin to make sure I passed all of the clots and whatever they give you in I.V. to keep you from being dehydrated (saline?). They had already stopped giving me the morphine. I wasn't in any more physical pain but the morphine had been quite nice. I remember the way it smelled sweet and like rubbing alcohol. It took the pain away, mentally and physically. If I didn't have a life to go back to I would have asked them if I could take a bucket of morphine home. I was still in my hospital gown. They said I could leave in a couple of hours. No point in staying now. Baby's dead anyway. Time to go home and get over it. All I wanted was a shower. I had to get the smell off of me. The smell of sweat and blood. The smell of blood will always make me think of death now. The baby was gone, the labour was almost painless. But now I had to get off that bed and go home and act "normal." Be strong, be brave, be a mother, be a wife. When all I want to be is with my son. I can still feel it. The way it felt when he slipped from my body. I didn't even have to push, he was so little. He just slipped out. I can feel it. I feel it all day. That sensation. I don't remember what it felt like to have my daughter. I remember talking about it afterwards, how he head squirmed out and I felt it. I guess with time my memory of that is gone. Maybe with time this memory will be too. But I hope not. I want to always remember it because it is the only time I got with Blaine. The time my body gave him life and the time my body took his life away.

The Descent

This is one of only two photos I have of me pregnant. My husband and I started trying for our second child in December 2009. We were very lucky to get pregnant the first try and confirmed the pregnancy in January. I was extremely sick with nausea, exhaustion and body aches right away. But I was very healthy otherwise and the baby was thriving. I called him my little parasite, I felt like crap because he was draining all my nutrients. It was a good thing and I suffered with joy. I first felt the baby move at 8 weeks. A mouse ran across our living room floor and as I jumped a second later the baby jumped. It's like he knew from then on what he was physically capable of. Every couple of days from then on I'd feel a little jump. He became Momma's Little Nudger. I had my first ultrasound on March 15th. The ultrasound went perfectly. He was a stubborn little guy and was dancing around but wouldn't show the lab tech his back so it took a while. When the lab tech showed me the screen I swear to God my son waved. Yes, it was his hand moving up and down and most of you will think he didn't have any idea that he was making a waving motion. But I know how smart my son was!! He waved at his Momma. Maybe he knew it was the only time he'd get to say hello. I had my next doctors appt on April 5th, I took my little girl with me so she could hear the babies heartbeat. Boy, did he have a heartbeat. It was like a stallion romping around my uterus. The doctor said he sounded very strong and healthy, that his heart was powerful. I had a healthy little baby boy inside me. I had not yet confirmed he was a boy but I just knew. It's funny, with my daughter I wanted a boy, I always wanted a boy. But I knew right away she was a girl. This time around I wanted another girl, another little princess. But I knew within weeks I was having a boy. I was feeling stronger and was even working out again. On Sunday April 11th I woke up around midnight. I didn't know why I had woken. And then I realized I had a pain in my stomach. A minute later I had another. I went to the washroom and there was blood. The one thing you don't want to see when you're pregnant, blood. I tried to stay calm and went and told my husband. I felt another pain. This one was worse. And I knew what it was. Having gone through 17 hours of natural labour with my daughter I knew what a labour pain was. I called the hospital and they said to go to emergency, not the maternity ward because I was only 17 weeks along. This was not yet a baby to the hospital administrators. I started crying. My husband tried to calm me and I tried to convince myself that it wasn't that bad. Maybe they could give me some drugs and I'd stay in bed for the rest of my pregnancy. For anyone who knows me you know that's not such a bad thing, I like to sleep. We got to the hospital at about 1:30 am. I sat in the waiting room for about an hour and they got me into a room. The doctor came about an hour later. He took an ultrasound, he was optimistic, my baby was fine, still swimming around in there, still with that strong healthy heartbeat. It was the last time I would see my son on this Earth. The doctor who by the way had hands like a Sasquatch did an internal exam. I could tell by the look on his face even before he said it. "I'm sorry to tell you that you're having a miscarriage, you're three centimetres dilated." My husband and I both burst into tears. We held each other. I had him wait a couple of hours and then call my Mom who came to be with us. The next day is a blur. I was on morphine and oxytocin (which induces contractions). I couldn't eat or drink because they may have to do a D&C. I don't want an abortion and you may have to give me one to take my living baby out of my dying uterus. I couldn't deal with it. This doctor that was like 15 years old came in to "help" we named him Doogie. It was the only comic relief we got and I am thankful for Doogie. His awkwardness took some of the stress away. He did some work "down there" to help me along but then told me he didn't really know what to do and went to talk to his superiors. They decided to just keep me on the drugs and let me do it naturally. At about 10:30 that night, Monday the 12th Doogie and his superiors decided to unhook me from the machines and let me sleep the night. I was allowed to eat something and drink some water. My husband left to go home, he wanted to change and see our daughter who was thankfully with Grandma. I cried myself to sleep. My husband came back in the night and we slept til about 7:30. We lied in bed and talked. I'm not going to get into the details of what happened at 8:40 am. My baby was born and it is mostly a blur. I remember it like I remember a movie I once saw. The doctors were there, Dr Sasquath and Doogie and a female Dr who I imagine was Doogies Mother superior. We confirmed he was the boy I thought he was and he was perfectly formed. There was nothing wrong with him. There was nothing wrong with me. The doctor said this was a "fluke" I am supposed to take comfort in that. I do not. I don't take comfort in being part of the 1% of women that this happens to. Statistics are no longer a reliable way for me to make a decision. We went home from the hospital at about noon. My parents and sister took us home. We are trying to get pregnant again, trying to heal, trying to move on with our lives. Trying to parent our little princess. It breaks my heart because she doesn't know what happened but she sees me sad sometimes and she's seen me cry. And she asks me why and I can't tell her, can't explain it to her. I can't explain it to anyone. When you're baby dies inside you you are ultimately alone in that pain. Thank God I have my husband to hold me up, my daughter to make me laugh, my online friends who are part of this sad sad club to comfort me and listen to my rants, my faith in God to preserve me. At least on the outside I can keep it together another day.