Family

Day 12: How has the rest of your family dealt with your loss?


I'm sure they dealt with MY LOSS the best way they thought THEY COULD HANDLE.  lol   No, not at all bitter.  At first they were very supportive.  They all came to the hospital, took me home, made sure I was doing okay.  My Dad even called me the next day to tell me he loved me which is not really something we do in our family.  My Mom checked on me a couple of days later and brought me a thermometer so I could make sure I didn't get a fever.  And then nothing.  And more nothing.  When we got Blaine's body my Mom came to the funeral home with me and paid for the services.  She prayed with me in the chapel.  And then nothing.  They haven't mentioned him since and that was 14 months ago.  No mention of him at Christmas or on his birthday.  I don't know if they just assume I'm over it or if they're just over it.  My daughter actually brought it up to my Mom after Caleb was born.  Telling her how she has three grandchildren now.  At first my Mom was like "huh" and then clicked in. 
As for in laws I didn't expect much anyway.  They're not the emotional or talking type.  Conversations are either gossiping about someone else's life or jokingly making fun of each other about something.  I'm sure I've been the topic of much gossip and I have no doubt some of them think I deserve what I got. 
The thing I was amazed by most was that I received the most love from people who I didn't expect it from.  Acquaintances, people at work, our martial arts instructors (Ma'am and Sir as we call them), and of course all of my new online family (sisters in grief).  That's my family now, that's the family my children deserve to be in.

Speaking of marital arts, I had my workout this morning.  I had a complete flashback.  We were doing a certain exercise that we haven't done, or at least I haven't, in awhile.  In fact I remembered as I was doing it that the last time was when I was pregnant with Blaine.  I vividly remembered exactly what I was wearing and how I went extra slow just to make sure I didn't fall.  And then of course it crossed my mind, "did this cause it?"  I'm happy to say I was able to keep it together and not show on the outside that suddenly my mind and heart were flipped upside down.

I Am

I am.
I am a mother and a wife
I am a friend, a daughter, a cousin, a sister
I am a knitter and avid tv watcher and player of games
I am a writer and reader
I am a lover of good wine and cheese
I am so many things, different things to different people in all different places
But this month, October, I am one thing more than all the others
I am a face
One face among many
I am the face of a mother whose child has gone on before her
I am the face of a mother who carries her child around her neck instead of in her arms
I am the face of a mother who beat the statistics but not in a good way
I am the face of a family who will always be missing someone

I actually don't believe the 1 in 4 statistic.  I think it's probably closer to 1 in 3 or even, as one doctor said, 1 in 2.  1 in 4 are the reported miscarriages, stillbirths and infant loss.  But what about the unreported.  Women who weren't sure or didn't know they were pregnant or who miscarried early and never told anyone?  And what about the babies whose death was not an accident but purposeful?  1 in 4 does not include aborted children, unless they are medical terminations.  What about the elective ones?

I hate to use the word Awareness and describe October as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  I am fully aware of more than I ever wanted to know about loss and grief.  I don't think we need to make people aware that babies die or that families suffer from it.  I think what we need is to make people REMEMBER.  Remember my child with me.  Remember his life and what should have been.  The people we so desperately want to remember our children with us are already aware.   For me, October is about remembrance and celebration.  Remembering the life I held, the loss I feel, celebrating the love we felt and what the future holds for us. 

August 19th - Day of Hope

Anxiety and Lunch

Today Abby had a field trip with her school. It brought up a big memory for me. Last year her field trip was on April 13th. So, while we were having Blaine at the hospital Grandma was getting her ready for a trip to the science centre. Getting up with her this morning brought up those memories. And then I felt a little, okay a lot, of anxiety leaving her at the school and coming home by myself. The anxiety passed quickly but it made me think of Blaine all morning. How much I miss him and how much we've missed out on.
Had lunch with another preggo BLM today. It's strange I never really thought of her as a BLM and it didn't even really kick in until after we had left each other. I realized I had mentioned Blaine several times and not mentioned her baby. I felt really bad so I sent her a FB message to let her know I was sorry and if she ever wanted to talk about it I was here. I was just a little self absorbed at lunch because it was nice to have another preggo woman I could comfortably talk to about everything, well not everything cause I don't want her to think I'm psycho but most things. This is someone I know IRL and doesn't have anything to do with the community on here. We've never actually talked about my loss or her loss before. It just came up because we were talking about babies and pregnancy. I'm hoping I didn't upset her or offend her. After all this time in dead baby land it's still hard to gauge what to do and say. Some people handle things so so so differently.
Still no news on the Caleb front. Abby has given him the 23rd as a deadline. lol. She says I should go into labour no later than Sunday and he has to be born by the 23rd. No idea why this date is significant to her but this is what her beautiful 6 year old mind has decided. Personally, I'm ready right now!

Life Lessons

I have learnt so many things this past year. Namely the following, in no particular order, please bare with the obvious sarcasm in some points.

1. Your body has an endless supply of tears and snot.

2. Strangers are sometimes the kindest friends.

3. It is possible to feel an immense amount of joy and an immense amount of pain at the exact same moment.

4. I can survive, the question has always been more like "do I want to?"

5. It is possible to love a human being so small they can fit in the palm of your hand.

6. Logic cannot exist in the same moment as grief.

7. The approximate time for others to grieve and move past the death of your child is one week. After that you are on your own.

8. God is good and loving, even when you hate him.

9. Guilt is a disease and needs to be treated like one.

10. You will feel an immense amount of pride and love at the simplest of things, like seeing your child's name written out by a stranger. (see point 2)

11. There are few things better in life than receiving "Blaine Mail." It never even makes it to the elevator before it's ripped open.

12. My husband has endless amounts of patience and doesn't mind if his shirts are soaked in tears.

13. My daughter is a one of the kindest souls I have ever known.

14. Having post partum depression but no baby at home isn't worth it.

15. There are far far too many dead babies in the world.

That's what I can think of for now. Of course, I have learnt so much about human behaviour and about myself. I've always been very observant of people and can always read people within minutes of meeting them. The one thing that has surprised me throughout this journey is the true sisterhood of the BLM. I've always been very skeptical of the internet and people who find friendships and love online. That all changed when I started looking for answers back in May 2010. The internet really became my go to guide on loss and healing. I guess the number one thing I learnt this year is that angels exist where you least expect them and God truly does work in mysterious ways.

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.

Pregnancy Interrupted

Sometimes that's what I feel like has happened. I find myself daydreaming about the baby or talking about the baby and I will inevitably slip up and call him Blaine. I know this is a different baby, a different soul. He'll have a whole other personality of his own. One fine day I will get to be with all three of my kids. But sometimes it seems like this is the same pregnancy. Like it just took a four month break or got interrupted by something. Maybe it's because it was just 4 months in between. That's not long in the grand scheme of things although when testing every month it seemed like forever. Four months is really nothing. It's already been one month since Christmas. Maybe it's because Blaine is unfinished business. When you get pregnant there's a timeline that you're supposed to progress through. That timeline ends with the bringing home of baby. But when you don't get to do that it's like you never finished. You're just stuck somewhere in between morning sickness (1st trimester) and heartburn (3rd). So now being further along with Caleb than I was with Blaine makes me slip up sometimes. My body and mind are going through the things now that got cut short back then. Luckily all of this has just happened in my head or else I know people will start to worry.
Worry. Another topic. Some douchebag at work today told me I looked "swollen" and asked me how my blood pressure was. Thanks for giving me something to worry about all freaking morning! Finally I just asked my supervisor if she thought I looked swollen and she said no. So then I relaxed because she wouldn't lie to me and she would notice cause she notices everything! NEWSFLASH if someone you know is pregnant after having lost a child do not point out things that could be wrong with them!!!! I feel like I'm becoming a drama queen and I desperately do not want to. I don't want to be one of those people that have a coronary over every little thing. I see them all the time, I work with a whole bunch of them! But this past week I have been. I have blown up and cried and gone on and on about every little thing. I'm blaming the hormones for now and not accepting that this may be a new personality trait.

Residual Bitterness

I though I had pretty much overcome all of the anger and bitterness I had surrounding Blaine's loss. Pause, I hate the word loss. Abby actually thought we had "lost" a baby because technically that's what the word means. I didn't lose him. He also didn't "die." I use the term "dead" baby but it's really false because to me he isn't dead. He is very much alive he just isn't here. But anyways, that's off topic. After Blaine left us I was pretty bitter about some things and I thought I had moved on from all of that. There's been a lot of recent posts on other mom's blogs and FB about unsupportive family and friends and about people forgetting or ignoring after a certain amount of time passes. Reading these have made me realize that I'm still bitter about that too. Especially now that I'm pregnant and hearing all of the well wishes certain people have for this baby. There are people who are expecting to be a part of the lives of my living children. I wish I could put a big sign up saying "guess what, if you didn't celebrate the life of the one that died, you don't get to be part of the living!" As bad as it sounds I want my living kids to know exactly who loved their brother and who could have cared less. I don't want them to be bitter and hateful about it but I want them to know who was there and who wasn't. Who couldn't be bothered to say "sorry for your loss" even. I will never forget the people who stepped up in my life and supported me one hundred percent. And I will also never forget the people who just looked away because they were too uncomfortable or just didn't care enough. I know you should forgive and forget and I will forgive but I won't forget. And I will find a way, even if it means renting a billboard!, to let these people know that they weren't there for Blaine so guess what, you don't get to be there for Caleb either. I think that's the last of my residual bitterness. I'm pretty accepting of everything else that has happened.
I've decided I have to send out some Valentine cards on Blaine's behalf. I bought cards for Abby to take to daycare and school and I was a little broken hearted thinking he wouldn't get to send out cards. He'll never have that cute little girl in his class that he's a little shy to give a card to. He'll never bring home a homemade envelope full of cards from all his friends and teachers. I have to do these things for him. Like everything else really, it will be on his behalf, from his loving Momma.

The Best and the Worst

Well 2010 is over. Not quite out with a bang but gone none the less. So far 2011 is looking good! lol Too soon to tell I guess since it's only day 2. 2010 will always be remembered by me as a bittersweet year. A year of great joy and great sorrow. I feel like I'm starting a Dickens novel, "it was the best of times it was the worst of times." 2010 was the year I gave life to two children. 2011 will decide if I bring one of them home. It was the year I hit the lowest point I ever thought I could hit. I never thought in my life I would walk into a complete strangers office and fall apart so completely. I never thought I'd be one of those people who had to take time off work for mental reasons. I never thought I'd eagerly wait by the phone for someone to call me to tell me my son's ashes were ready for pickup. I remember these things like they were yesterday. The Thursday nights from Hell. Hubby would be at baseball and I'd put Abby to bed and I'd sit in front of the computer and cry and scream and shake. Those first few months I just kept everything bottled in all week. Pretended to be "over it" and back to normal. But every Thursday night I'd allow myself that release. Reading blogs and poems and songs about loss. I remember those nights like they were yesterday.
2010 was also a year of blessings though. After every storm there is a rainbow after all. If I ever doubted my husband's love for me that doubt was erased. He held me together so many times. His love for me and all his kids is something I am so grateful for, everyday. In 2010 I got pregnant with Caleb and as I type this I can feel him squirming around in there. 2010 was the year we took Abby to Disney. We walked into Disney exactly one week after I delivered Blaine. Strange thing to do but oddly helpful. Watching a 5 year old in total awe and wonder makes crying and sadness almost impossible. Watching her go down the water slide at the hotel was worth every penny spent on the trip. In some ways 2010 was one of the best years of my life. I learnt so much about life, family and myself. While I'm glad it's over it will certainly never be forgotten.

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

What I Need Right Now

I briefly spoke about my new needs in a previous post and I've posted the "A Letter from Women to Their Friends and Family" written Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer. I have new needs and wants that I never had before. I've always been what I consider to be very strong. I've always been able to put on a poker face and dismiss any kind of hardships. I was tough. I don't involve myself in drama, I don't associate with people who thrive on conflict or gossip. I was level headed, sometimes detached and a bit of a loner. That suited me just fine. Then I descended. And now I am an emotional wreck. I've only felt this way once before and that was during an emotionally abusive relationship and even then it was just around him, not anyone else. Now I can barely get through the day without crying. Even during the good ones I sometimes have tears of joy. I need for the people who love me and know me to understand that I am not the same Elaine you knew on April 12th. Post April 13th Elaine is a different woman. And to be honest I like her better. I don't like being on an emotional scrambler. But there are a lot of new things I've discovered about myself that I would not give back. And this is my new reality. I am the mother of a dead baby and the mother of a living daughter. I am both and whether I am blessed with another living child or not, that will not change. Here are some things I want you to know...

I didn't choose this. I would give anyone or anything in my life other than my daughter to have my son back.
I am not being a drama queen. I am moody and emotional but it's not for attention. I just can't help it.
Please don't stop asking me to do things. I know I've been saying no to almost every invite but that is because the physical effects of grief and depression have left me sore and aching and exhausted. I simply don't have the energy most days to go out to a party or dinner. It's not that I don't want to because I want to so badly.
I know it is hard for you to understand how I feel about my son. He was just an abstract idea to you...a pregnancy not a child. But he moved inside me, he fed off my body. I did not lose a 17 week old fetus, I lost a baby, toddler, teenager, son, grandson, daughter in law, granddaughter, lifetime of memories and dreams.
Please don't think I am dwelling on the negative. I am also celebrating every moment I had. What may seem morbid to you is my way of coping.
I will never get over this. While it will get easier with time I will never move on.
I want to talk about Blaine. I want you to ask me about Blaine. I want you to ask me if you can see his things when you are at my home.
I need to know that you will never forget him. I need to know that this has had an impact on you.
I want you to talk to Abigail about her brother. Do not think that it will hurt her. She is a precious spirit who loves her brother. She mentions him every day and it doesn't cause her pain.
You know I am not used to asking for things. I am a proud woman. It's hard for me to ask someone for a favour or for their time (well except my parents I still rely on them far too much) Most of what I have done for Blaine I did alone because I didn't want to bother anyone. So, offer your time to me. Offer to take me for a coffee. Offer to come to my home and visit. Offer to help me find some new way to memorialize my son.
Understand that I am changed. I am not the strong woman I was. I am fragile. I don't know how long I will feel this way but for the time being I need you to be a little more sensitive. And I may be a little more clingy and needy. I have a hard time most days deciding on what to make for dinner so please don't ask me anything more complex than that!
Please read my blog. Thanks Liz for reading this everyday!! You have no idea how much it means to me that a "real life" friend is watching.

That's all I can really think of right now. My mind was racing with this after the dead baby email I got the other day. But that person wasn't really a friend so this wouldn't apply.

On a lighter note, I am going up north next Friday. Some of you asked me to do name photos for your babies, if you want one and forgot to email me please do so by Wednesday... lilyorange2@yahoo.ca

The Scrambler Part Deux

Shhh...I'm blogging at work..hehe. Today was an exceptionally good day. After two weeks of emotional lows and a probable ecotopic pregnancy, yesterday was refreshing. And a good day I really needed to have. I was surprisingly well rested and optimistic when I woke up in the morning. Got to work and had a really good morning, not too busy but just enough. Some good laughs. Went out for lunch with my friend to the farmer's market. I bought myself two big beautiful sunflowers. Afternoon started off really well. I just felt at peace. I'm feeling optimistic that I'm going to get preggo this month. I feel like the darkness that surrounded me the past few days is gone. I feel like this is my month. I deserve some good news and I've been a pretty good person so karma should be catching up to me. I know this sounds incredibly naive but it's what I'm trying to make myself believe right now! I have to believe in the positive. That good things are coming my way.
There was only one glitch in my almost perfect day yesterday. I got an email from a coworker. One of those stupid chain things that people pass around. Usually they don't bother me. But this one was warning all us woman that carrying our cell phones around can actually cause miscarriage and infertility. Really? I was shocked, did she seriously send me this email? I had three options, 1: get up and punch her in the throat...2: take a walk and cool off...3: reply back to all in the email and say something like "do you think that's why my baby died? the doctors couldn't explain it maybe you can?" I wisely opted for number 2, took a walk to the bathroom shut myself in the stall screamed into some toilet paper and cried for a minute. This was the first time I had cried at work since I've been back from my 5 week mental hiatus. I know she didn't mean any harm. She didn't think about it. And that's it. She didn't think about it because she has probably already forgotten. I don't know what peeved me off more...the fact that she sent a careless email without thinking of who she was sending it to or the stupid email itself. Yes, ladies according to the person who wrote the email, I'm sure they're a celebrated and award winning doctor, prolonged exposure to cell phones causes miscarriage. Phew, I'm glad there's a good reason for all the dead babies out there. I was able to actually cool off after about an hour and put things in perspective. But for that one hour I was seething and she is very lucky I was at work. And that I have extremely good self control. I'm a Jasper when it comes to controlling my emotions, hardly any outbursts at all. (I'm reading Twilight for the 6th time sorry). It got me thinking about what I really want and need from people. I'm not going to compile it all here because I am at work and this is getting to be a long post already.
I was able to salvage the day though, my supervisor met with me because she heard about what happened. My friend Lisa was appalled at the email and sent my supervisor a note about it. Joking around with my supervisor always brightens my mood. She has been so supportive and such a good friend, leader and mentor.
So, a minor snag but today I am feeling really good again. It may just be another ride on the Scrambler but if it is and I'm going to crash again I plan on enjoying this while I can!

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.

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

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.

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.

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.

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.

GPS

Today I feel some resolve. Maybe it's just another day on the Scrambler. I just feel today that I can't wallow in this anymore. I can't spend hours a day on the computer reading about dead babies. I can't keep reliving my son's birth/death over and over in my head...the sights the smells the sounds. I have to start moving on. I thought that that's what I was doing but have realized over the past couple of days that I really haven't been doing that at all. I understand that this has changed me forever. I understand that I will never "get over" it. But I have to get on. I have to find some peace. Easier said than done right? I feel stuck. I know where I have to get to but don't know how to get there. My internal GPS is busted. I can see myself in the future, healthy and happy with Big Sis and hopefully a new baby. I can see myself being sad and missing Blaine but not being overcome. I can visualize myself being strong and telling my kids about their brother in Heaven without wanting to scream and rip out my hair. I can see it and I want it. I just don't know how to get it. I'm like a rabbit running for a carrot. I can see it in my sights but the faster I run the further away the carrot seems to get.

The Scrambler

Grief is usually referred to in stages, anywhere from 5 to 10 depending on what you're reading or who you're talking to. I think the most commonly recognized ones are Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance. To me stages are something you go through and then graduate to the next one. Like when I play Super Mario. I beat world one and go onto world two. I don't have to go back to world one again. I've completed that stage. I think calling any part of grief a stage is misleading. It ignores the fact that you will go back and forth and back and forth constantly feeling each stage separately or together. Is grief like a roller coaster? No. You get on a roller coaster and you have the ups and downs. But there is a definite end. You end up in the same spot as you started. Roller coasters with all their twists and turns are circular. So, what is grief really?

After feeling a bit blah last week and getting a little religious I had felt like I had come to an acceptance. I felt like I had released Blaine into God's arms and I was ready to begin moving on. Not getting over but getting on. And then this weekend it just all came crashing down again. I quickly went from "acceptance" to everything else but denial. I can't really deny it at this point. My sister had her baby yesterday. If you know me you know I have mixed feelings about this regardless of the fact I have a dead baby. I won't get into it all now but I was trying to be very supportive. And it hurt like hell. I held this little baby girl. And I was completely overcome with sadness. I never held my son. I didn't think I could handle it. And now I don't think I will ever get over the guilt for not doing it. Guilt is not even one of the 5 stages. Either is self loathing. I seem to be making up my own as I go along.

So, I figured out that grief is a scrambler ride. You know those things at fairs. Kind of looks like a spider. You sit in the cab and it spins around. Then the group you're in spins and finally the whole unit is spinning. You get thrashed around going faster and spinning out of control. When the ride finally stops you are never in the same spot you started in. That's grief. It's not neat little stages it's a spinner. You can feel one stage or you can feel all of the stages. And it's usually accompanied by a sinking feeling in your gut. Like the floor is giving out under you. And when the ride ends who knows where you're going to be. Or who you're going to be.

One thing that hit me pretty hard was when I was at my sister's house before she went into active labour. I was looking at all of the baby stuff and telling her, "save the breastpump for me" "save your maternity pants for me." And then I'm thinking why? What if I never get pregnant? What if I never give birth to a living child again? What if my life is always "this is Abigail my living child?" I'm building this house of dreams that could fall apart at any minute. Gone is the innocence of being pregnant and thinking I'm going to have a baby. How am I going to react to a friend getting pregnant in the future. "Let's hope the baby doesn't die" Or when they complain about being up all night with a baby or having morning sickness "well at least your baby is alive" I'm trying to find hope but I feel like I know too much know. I was singing this song in my head. Of course it's Blue Rodeo...they really should pay me for this publicity. "House of Dreams"

"Must have thought you'd always be there

I never even noticed when the changes came one day
Seems one minute you were standing close
I turned around again
And girl you were far away

And every plan we made
Oh I just let them fade
And pile up on the floor
Beside the bed
Now you're gone away
Oh but your memory stays
I sit here thinking of the things I never said

In this house of dreams
I let you walk like a ghost unseen
Out walked my everything
Girl on the day you left"

Every plan I had made is gone. And I hope I can have the courage to plan again. But I have to get off this Scrambler first.