Up until a year Em's baby book would ask questions about her development, likes, dislikes, habits, etc. I figured I would do one now since they stopped at 12 months.
Milestones and memories: Em has been telling me when she went poo poo. She usually only tells me when I first come in to get her in the morning, and of course it is always after the fact. She never tells me about pee pee, but it's a start. She now knows where her ears, eyes, nose, and mouth are. Once she masters another I show her something new. I think we'll do chin next.
Sleeping habits: She goes down wonderfully for her nap. She typically naps from about 1pm till 3, and almost the second she finishes her bottle she is out. On the rare times she wakes up early she fusses a bit and goes back to sleep. Since we are obviously way over due, this is her last week with a nap bottle. I know it needs to go, but I am a little fearful of how it might change nap time. I plan to get rid of her night time bottle by Christmas, and I admit, a big part of me doesn't want to. Partly it's fear of going down without one, but also it will be a big step of not being my baby anymore. She loves her bubbas and is so adorable drinking one. Luckily though, out of sight out of mind. She never asks for it, she just gets excited when she sees it. Bedtime is a little more difficult. Not super hard, but she doesn't go down as well as she does for nap. Occasionally she'll cry and beg for me to pick her up out of her crib, but most nights she lays down with Kayla bear and takes her bubba. On nights she is exceptionally tired she'll be out pretty quick, but there are nights where she sits up and plays or walks around in her crib for an hour or two before falling asleep.
Luckily if I leave her be, she'll eventually go to sleep, but she does sometimes cry. I usually let her cry it out since it only lasts a few minutes and then she goes back to playing. She goes to bed around 8 and often sleeps until at least 8am but sometimes 8:30 or 9. Very rarely a poopy diaper will wake her in the middle of the night, or she'll wake up crying for an unknown reason. Maybe a nightmare or something. She is often very snuggly when I go in, and sometimes falls back to sleep on my shoulder. Since this doesn't happen often, I secretly love when she wakes up in the MOTN so I can get some snuggles, and of course being able to crawl back in bed for a few hours is always nice. But even if she's asleep on my shoulder, I can never put her back in her crib without waking her, so I generally get her a little more milk and then she'll go right back to sleep.
Eating habits: There isn't much she doesn't like, but she doesn't always like to eat. She's not a huge meat fan, but if I dip chicken in some ranch she'll often eat it. She LOVES bananas, grapes, and peas. She likes raisins as well, and often does well with lentil soup. PB&J sandwiches are ok as is grilled cheese, but she hates egg salad. Sometimes she will eat really nicely, other times she'll eat well for half of her meal and then start throwing food on the floor, or knocking the spoon out of my hand. She loves to throw her sippy on the floor. She does great with sippys, and straws and if there is just a little bit of milk or water in a glass she can drink from an open cup, but any more and she'll be wearing it.
She can eat finger food perfectly, and does pretty good with a fork. The spoon she is still having difficulty with unless it is something thick like oatmeal she can dip her spoon in and get some. She also loves oatmeal, and it is my go-to food when she won't eat or won't stop throwing all other food. She also likes mac n cheese. And for anything she doesn't like, that all goes out the window if it is something you're eating, and you want to eat in peace. Then she's standing next to you with her mouth hanging open like a baby bird waiting to be fed. She also hates wearing a bib and often throws it on the floor along with her sippy. She doesn't get it a lot, but she will down a glass of chocolate milk in 2.5 seconds.
Favorites: She loves Kayla bear, which I love. It was the first stuffed animal we had on Kayla's grave and it became Emily's when we retired it from grave duty. She loves her, she'd just the perfect size for her to hug, she'll squeeze her and squeal, she'll kiss her and she has to have her to go to sleep. She gets her bubba, covered with a blanket, turn on the nightlight and lullabye elephant and she's got Kayla bear tucked into the crook of her arm. Lately she has been going in her room and pulling her through the bars of her crib so she can carry her around, and sometimes she won't let go of her when we go somewhere and she brings her with us. I am trying to discourage that as I'd rather she not form an attachment to her that breaks her heart when she has to stop taking her every where.
She loves Bubble Guppies and Sheriff Callie. She watches Paw Patrol, Blaze, Sophia, and Doc Mcstuffins too but they're just kind of on while she's playing. But she is glued to the tv when the other two are on. She loves Momo (Elmo), and her Vtech walker. She also has a riding bull that is supposed to be in her room but she gets him and scoots all over the house on him. She loves to screech, the louder and more it pierces your ears the better and she loves cell phones. She loves to climb up onto the couch and run from end to end. She loves music and likes to dance. She also loves to give kisses and she loves her baba (grandpa). About two months ago I noticed her saying Baba every time I would say grandpa. I still call him that in front of her, but she corrects me and says Baba. She'll start yelling Baba when we pull in his driveway.
Discoveries and accomplishments: Tonight she helped me clean up her toys. I showed her a block and asked her to bring me all the blocks. She had trouble finding them all, but if I pointed one out she would go get it and put it in the bag (though I had to zip it shut quickly cause she wanted to take them back out and play with them). I had her collect all of her markers, and then she helped me put toys in her toy box.
She recently discovered her vagina during bath time and she likes to poke her belly button during diaper changes. She started walking about a month ago, but for a while she wouldn't walk on concrete but now that isn't an issue, but she does thankfully like to hold my hand when we are out in public. It's nice to not have to always deal with the stroller.
Tuesday, October 27, 2015
Saturday, October 24, 2015
Trick or Treating 1.0
I think I am kind of pooping our of the capture your grief project this year. I got a few days behind and I just don't feel like I have the mental energy to catch up. Maybe next year.
Last night we all went out with my brother and SIL for dinner and trick or treating at the village. The restaurant was busy and we had a wait, so when they called our name and asked if I high top was ok, we weren't sure what to do. Of course you can't put a high chair next to a high top (despite the similar names, haha). But I didn't know how much longer another table would be so we said ok and got a booster seat. We will now be checking the box for "booster seat 'not ready' ". She has a booster seat that we keep in the car in case restaurants don't have them or if we eat at a non-kid home, but it has straps to hold her in.
First I was worried she would slip out and slip under the table, which was quite a drop, and then she kept trying to climb across the table to my brother and when she was sitting with them she wanted to crawl back over to us. Then she got a hold of my pop and dumped it all over my lap. Not a great meal. Then my husband got all annoyed and flustered cause she was crying. He doesn't spend enough time with her out in public to have developed an "I don't give a shit if people stare at my screaming kid" attitude. Before I had kids I used to think it must be so embarrassing, but I really do not care. Other parents understand, and for those that aren't parents, one day if they become one they'll say, "Ohhhhh" just like I did. She's a toddler, tantrums happen, deal with it.
So then we went to the village. Emily was a U of M cheerleader. I had adorable little pigtails in her hair, but one came out on the way to dinner since she kept turning her head in her car seat, and she screamed holy hell when I tried to fix it so I just took the other one out. It was also pretty chilly so she had to wear a jacket so you really couldn't see her costume. Oh well. I just wore jeans and a waffle shirt because I am hot all the time, and I was sweating when I was getting ready. But once we got there I was pretty cold, and luckily my brother had an extra sweatshirt for me to wear. It was a nice change to be cold for once. I am really hoping if I can get back down to my goal weight, the sweating will go away. I hate doing my hair and make up but then my hairline gets all sweaty and my hair becomes a wet wavy mess.
I know part of it is a change in hormones since having Emily, but I am praying the weight is a big factor and will help a lot once I lose it. I cannot stand being hot and sweaty all the time. And it's just my hairline that sweats. I mean, I guess it's good that I don't get pit stains, but come on, it ruins my hair and make up. I remember the winter I lost a lot of weight, I was cold all the time. I would kill to be a cold person. At least then you can pile on cute sweaters and sweatshirts. There isn't much you can do when you're in just a tshirt in 40 degree weather and drowning in your sweat.
So we walked around, saw all the attractions, there were some new ones that were pretty cool. Emily seemed to like it, she especially liked seeing the horses at the Ichibod Crane and Headless Horseman attraction. I was standing there holding her and for whatever reason she decided to knock my glasses off my face (she usually only does this when she's mad) and of course they land on the other side of the fence in the corn field where they are riding. Thankfully they were just in reach and my brother got them. What would I have done, excuse me headless horseman, will you get me my glasses?
I finally got all my chores done this week on time, so today I was able to just lay around and relax. It was so nice. I missed being able to relax on the weekend and not feel guilty about not doing the chores I didn't do all week. Maybe I can keep it up. What's been working so far is to drink half a 5 hour energy and that keeps me going and I don't end up dozing or napping when Emily naps. I don't like depending on them, but even the caffeine in tea or choking down a coffee doesn't help as much as the energy drinks do. Hopefully they're not THAT bad for you, especially since I only drink half in one day. I am not being very successful in going to bed earlier, but at least without the daytime naps, I am falling asleep easier when I do go to bed.
Around 5 I decided to go to the mall and pick up my husband's anniversary present. I was going to run there by myself but decided to take Emmy. We stopped at the cemetery first to get Kayla's stuffed animal. I don't want it taken if they do a fall clean up soon. I'll wash her and then Emily will get her, and we'll pick out a new stuffie that Kayla will have in her christmas stocking and then we'll put it at her grave in the spring. Last year's stuffie is now Emily's favorite teddy bear. We call her Kayla bear since she was hers first. She is just the perfect size for Em to cuddle with and she's wearing a light pink jacket with a hoodie. She really loves her, she has to have her to go to sleep and lately she has been carrying her around the house and she hugs her and squeals.
So after that we went to the mall. I decided to be brave and leave the stroller and let her walk in. She did great most of the way, she's really good about holding my hand, in fact she prefers it when we are out in public or walking somewhere that the ground isn't perfectly level. I picked up the gift and then I let her ride some of the cars and stuff that they had in the kids area. She seemed to like them but I think their movements scared her a bit. Then we were on our way to the doors to leave when she face planted and bumped her forehead on the floor. So we had to get ice cream to make her feel better.
Ok ok, we were already on our way to get ice cream anyway, but the former is the official story. My mom and I used to always stop at Macy's for some frozen yogurt at that very mall, so it's a fun tradition to carry on with my daughter. So we got a cup of yogurt with chocolate chips. She liked it and she soon forgot all about her fall. It was a nice little trip to the mall. I love spending fun times with her, making memories.
Last night we all went out with my brother and SIL for dinner and trick or treating at the village. The restaurant was busy and we had a wait, so when they called our name and asked if I high top was ok, we weren't sure what to do. Of course you can't put a high chair next to a high top (despite the similar names, haha). But I didn't know how much longer another table would be so we said ok and got a booster seat. We will now be checking the box for "booster seat 'not ready' ". She has a booster seat that we keep in the car in case restaurants don't have them or if we eat at a non-kid home, but it has straps to hold her in.
First I was worried she would slip out and slip under the table, which was quite a drop, and then she kept trying to climb across the table to my brother and when she was sitting with them she wanted to crawl back over to us. Then she got a hold of my pop and dumped it all over my lap. Not a great meal. Then my husband got all annoyed and flustered cause she was crying. He doesn't spend enough time with her out in public to have developed an "I don't give a shit if people stare at my screaming kid" attitude. Before I had kids I used to think it must be so embarrassing, but I really do not care. Other parents understand, and for those that aren't parents, one day if they become one they'll say, "Ohhhhh" just like I did. She's a toddler, tantrums happen, deal with it.
So then we went to the village. Emily was a U of M cheerleader. I had adorable little pigtails in her hair, but one came out on the way to dinner since she kept turning her head in her car seat, and she screamed holy hell when I tried to fix it so I just took the other one out. It was also pretty chilly so she had to wear a jacket so you really couldn't see her costume. Oh well. I just wore jeans and a waffle shirt because I am hot all the time, and I was sweating when I was getting ready. But once we got there I was pretty cold, and luckily my brother had an extra sweatshirt for me to wear. It was a nice change to be cold for once. I am really hoping if I can get back down to my goal weight, the sweating will go away. I hate doing my hair and make up but then my hairline gets all sweaty and my hair becomes a wet wavy mess.
I know part of it is a change in hormones since having Emily, but I am praying the weight is a big factor and will help a lot once I lose it. I cannot stand being hot and sweaty all the time. And it's just my hairline that sweats. I mean, I guess it's good that I don't get pit stains, but come on, it ruins my hair and make up. I remember the winter I lost a lot of weight, I was cold all the time. I would kill to be a cold person. At least then you can pile on cute sweaters and sweatshirts. There isn't much you can do when you're in just a tshirt in 40 degree weather and drowning in your sweat.
So we walked around, saw all the attractions, there were some new ones that were pretty cool. Emily seemed to like it, she especially liked seeing the horses at the Ichibod Crane and Headless Horseman attraction. I was standing there holding her and for whatever reason she decided to knock my glasses off my face (she usually only does this when she's mad) and of course they land on the other side of the fence in the corn field where they are riding. Thankfully they were just in reach and my brother got them. What would I have done, excuse me headless horseman, will you get me my glasses?
I finally got all my chores done this week on time, so today I was able to just lay around and relax. It was so nice. I missed being able to relax on the weekend and not feel guilty about not doing the chores I didn't do all week. Maybe I can keep it up. What's been working so far is to drink half a 5 hour energy and that keeps me going and I don't end up dozing or napping when Emily naps. I don't like depending on them, but even the caffeine in tea or choking down a coffee doesn't help as much as the energy drinks do. Hopefully they're not THAT bad for you, especially since I only drink half in one day. I am not being very successful in going to bed earlier, but at least without the daytime naps, I am falling asleep easier when I do go to bed.
Around 5 I decided to go to the mall and pick up my husband's anniversary present. I was going to run there by myself but decided to take Emmy. We stopped at the cemetery first to get Kayla's stuffed animal. I don't want it taken if they do a fall clean up soon. I'll wash her and then Emily will get her, and we'll pick out a new stuffie that Kayla will have in her christmas stocking and then we'll put it at her grave in the spring. Last year's stuffie is now Emily's favorite teddy bear. We call her Kayla bear since she was hers first. She is just the perfect size for Em to cuddle with and she's wearing a light pink jacket with a hoodie. She really loves her, she has to have her to go to sleep and lately she has been carrying her around the house and she hugs her and squeals.
So after that we went to the mall. I decided to be brave and leave the stroller and let her walk in. She did great most of the way, she's really good about holding my hand, in fact she prefers it when we are out in public or walking somewhere that the ground isn't perfectly level. I picked up the gift and then I let her ride some of the cars and stuff that they had in the kids area. She seemed to like them but I think their movements scared her a bit. Then we were on our way to the doors to leave when she face planted and bumped her forehead on the floor. So we had to get ice cream to make her feel better.
Ok ok, we were already on our way to get ice cream anyway, but the former is the official story. My mom and I used to always stop at Macy's for some frozen yogurt at that very mall, so it's a fun tradition to carry on with my daughter. So we got a cup of yogurt with chocolate chips. She liked it and she soon forgot all about her fall. It was a nice little trip to the mall. I love spending fun times with her, making memories.
Tuesday, October 20, 2015
Capture your grief- Day 18, Seasons and symbols
What season do you associate with your children? is it the season that they died in? Or maybe another reason like a beautiful time you spent together. What emotions arise in you when that season comes around? What is it in that season that triggers feelings and memories for you? Is it the scent in the air? The color of the leaves? Do you look forward to this season because you feel more connected to your children or do you dread it? Do you have a symbol that represents your child?Share how you came to find that symbol and what it means to you.
There isn't one season that is overwhelmingly "Kayla" to me. In some ways, it is summer since she was due in July. July 26th to be exact....so far we have passed by July three times since we lost her and every year on July 26th I think of her, and wonder what our lives would have been like. I also think of her of course in March, when she was born and died. Approaching it isn't as hard since it is also a happy time, Emily's birthday is just 5 days before. So we have been busy preparing for her arrival and celebrating her birthday. But the day of is always sad for me. On the first anniversary I awoke feeling like my chest was heavy, and despite having this beautiful new baby girl, I cried the entire time I got her ready that day.
For some reason I also associate Christmas with her. I guess because it is both such a happy and sad occasion in one. When Christmas is happy, it's extra happy. But when it is sad, it is especially sad. Christmas was a special time for us when I was pregnant with Kayla. It was just barely a month since we had announced to close family, and the first time seeing everyone since so we were all happy and excited. We also announced to my SIL and BIL on Christmas day. We also talked and dreamed about what next Christmas would be like, with our little one on her first Christmas. I was so excited.
When we lost Kayla, one of my first thoughts was, I cannot do Christmas this year. We talked about going away for it, not decorating at all, not seeing family, just making it a regular day. As time went on and when we got pregnant with Emily, I felt less hostile about Christmas, but it still brings up mixed emotions.
Our symbol for Kayla is a butterfly. My husband and I were at the cemetery picking out a symbol to put on her gravestone. The funeral director suggested we choose something that reminded us of her, but we barely got to know her, so nothing was standing out. Then I saw a butterfly, and I mentioned to Ryan how butterflies was going to be the theme of her room. So we decided it would be perfect. We have since learned that the butterfly is a very common symbol of a loved one who has passed. The fact that they start off as a caterpillar, and then go into a death-like state and then morph into this beautiful butterfly, almost like a second life is very symbolic of what we picture our baby as having done. She lived on this earth only a very short time, and now she is a beautiful angel in Heaven. Whenever I see a butterfly, I always smile and think of my girl.
There isn't one season that is overwhelmingly "Kayla" to me. In some ways, it is summer since she was due in July. July 26th to be exact....so far we have passed by July three times since we lost her and every year on July 26th I think of her, and wonder what our lives would have been like. I also think of her of course in March, when she was born and died. Approaching it isn't as hard since it is also a happy time, Emily's birthday is just 5 days before. So we have been busy preparing for her arrival and celebrating her birthday. But the day of is always sad for me. On the first anniversary I awoke feeling like my chest was heavy, and despite having this beautiful new baby girl, I cried the entire time I got her ready that day.
For some reason I also associate Christmas with her. I guess because it is both such a happy and sad occasion in one. When Christmas is happy, it's extra happy. But when it is sad, it is especially sad. Christmas was a special time for us when I was pregnant with Kayla. It was just barely a month since we had announced to close family, and the first time seeing everyone since so we were all happy and excited. We also announced to my SIL and BIL on Christmas day. We also talked and dreamed about what next Christmas would be like, with our little one on her first Christmas. I was so excited.
When we lost Kayla, one of my first thoughts was, I cannot do Christmas this year. We talked about going away for it, not decorating at all, not seeing family, just making it a regular day. As time went on and when we got pregnant with Emily, I felt less hostile about Christmas, but it still brings up mixed emotions.
Our symbol for Kayla is a butterfly. My husband and I were at the cemetery picking out a symbol to put on her gravestone. The funeral director suggested we choose something that reminded us of her, but we barely got to know her, so nothing was standing out. Then I saw a butterfly, and I mentioned to Ryan how butterflies was going to be the theme of her room. So we decided it would be perfect. We have since learned that the butterfly is a very common symbol of a loved one who has passed. The fact that they start off as a caterpillar, and then go into a death-like state and then morph into this beautiful butterfly, almost like a second life is very symbolic of what we picture our baby as having done. She lived on this earth only a very short time, and now she is a beautiful angel in Heaven. Whenever I see a butterfly, I always smile and think of my girl.
Capture your grief- Day 17, Secondary Losses
When your child dies, there are a series of secondary losses that follow. They are different for everyone. The loss of relationships, the loss of innocence, the loss of employment, etc. Share about something else that you lost when your child died. This is a perfect way for us to shine a light on the grief experience.
I was lucky to not experience a whole domino effect after we lost Kayla. But I am familiar with it since I lost my mom; I lost friends (you find out who your real friends are in time of loss), an apartment (not really a loss, I chose to move but I did so to be closer to my dad. Had my mom not died, I would have continued living where I lived), my sister-in-law (not related to my loss, but my brother and his wife separated just a month or so before my mom died) and I lost who I thought was the love of my life at the time. Most of these weren't losses relating to my mom dying, but they all happened in a short period of time and they were all changes I didn't want to deal with while also grieving for my mom.
I guess the main secondary loss after Kayla was my inner peace, my hope maybe. I guess whatever the opposite of being bitter is. Before I lost her, I was one of those people that thought everything (ok most things) happened for a reason. I looked for the silver lining of a bad situation. I found blessings in disguise, or the beautiful in something ugly. I felt that for the most part, people meant well. But since she died, I am angry, I am pessimistic, I am negative. I can no longer hear of someone's pregnancy announcement without thinking about all the bad things that can happen to them.
And if those bad things don't happen, I wonder why they happened to me. When people say things, even if they aren't related to me, I scoff and think how naive they are being, or it makes me angry. Like a friend said on Facebook that she was so blessed that God made her a wife and a mother in less than a year and she so was thankful. I thought to myself, so if God made you those things, then he kept me from being a mother? Why? Why did you get it and I didn't? I experienced it somewhat with my first loss, the secondary loss of being able to enjoy a pregnancy and have no reason to think you're not bringing this baby home. But with Kayla I told myself all the time, millions of women have babies every day, there is no reason I shouldn't. But then I didn't.
Before any of my losses, I of course knew miscarriages happened, and I suppose in the back of my head I knew the unthinkable happens when you go to the hospital but come home empty handed. But before my losses, if someone announced they were pregnant, I NEVER ever thought the baby wouldn't make it home. I never ever thought about all the terrible things that could happen. I guess I always thought, if they're announcing now, they must be in the safe zone, and nothing bad can happen in the safe zone.
I lost my naivety. And in some cases I believe that what you don't know cannot hurt you. I wish I could go back to a time when I wasn't aware of what all could hurt me, when pregnant women always brought home a healthy baby, when I didn't know anyone personally that went through this tragedy, when I had never heard the words, incompetent cervix, hydrops fetalis, cord accident, pre-eclampsia, placenta previa, no heartbeat...I wish I could go back to a time when getting pregnant was a happy occasion, and not one to make you live in fear; back to a time when I didn't know of dozens of reasons why your baby might not make it home from the hospital.
I wouldn't say I lost my innocence. I've seen enough bad stuff in my life to have lost that long ago. But I definitely lost my optimism, and my ability to just go with things, instead of being so angry and bitter all the time.
I was lucky to not experience a whole domino effect after we lost Kayla. But I am familiar with it since I lost my mom; I lost friends (you find out who your real friends are in time of loss), an apartment (not really a loss, I chose to move but I did so to be closer to my dad. Had my mom not died, I would have continued living where I lived), my sister-in-law (not related to my loss, but my brother and his wife separated just a month or so before my mom died) and I lost who I thought was the love of my life at the time. Most of these weren't losses relating to my mom dying, but they all happened in a short period of time and they were all changes I didn't want to deal with while also grieving for my mom.
I guess the main secondary loss after Kayla was my inner peace, my hope maybe. I guess whatever the opposite of being bitter is. Before I lost her, I was one of those people that thought everything (ok most things) happened for a reason. I looked for the silver lining of a bad situation. I found blessings in disguise, or the beautiful in something ugly. I felt that for the most part, people meant well. But since she died, I am angry, I am pessimistic, I am negative. I can no longer hear of someone's pregnancy announcement without thinking about all the bad things that can happen to them.
And if those bad things don't happen, I wonder why they happened to me. When people say things, even if they aren't related to me, I scoff and think how naive they are being, or it makes me angry. Like a friend said on Facebook that she was so blessed that God made her a wife and a mother in less than a year and she so was thankful. I thought to myself, so if God made you those things, then he kept me from being a mother? Why? Why did you get it and I didn't? I experienced it somewhat with my first loss, the secondary loss of being able to enjoy a pregnancy and have no reason to think you're not bringing this baby home. But with Kayla I told myself all the time, millions of women have babies every day, there is no reason I shouldn't. But then I didn't.
Before any of my losses, I of course knew miscarriages happened, and I suppose in the back of my head I knew the unthinkable happens when you go to the hospital but come home empty handed. But before my losses, if someone announced they were pregnant, I NEVER ever thought the baby wouldn't make it home. I never ever thought about all the terrible things that could happen. I guess I always thought, if they're announcing now, they must be in the safe zone, and nothing bad can happen in the safe zone.
I lost my naivety. And in some cases I believe that what you don't know cannot hurt you. I wish I could go back to a time when I wasn't aware of what all could hurt me, when pregnant women always brought home a healthy baby, when I didn't know anyone personally that went through this tragedy, when I had never heard the words, incompetent cervix, hydrops fetalis, cord accident, pre-eclampsia, placenta previa, no heartbeat...I wish I could go back to a time when getting pregnant was a happy occasion, and not one to make you live in fear; back to a time when I didn't know of dozens of reasons why your baby might not make it home from the hospital.
I wouldn't say I lost my innocence. I've seen enough bad stuff in my life to have lost that long ago. But I definitely lost my optimism, and my ability to just go with things, instead of being so angry and bitter all the time.
Capture your grief-Day 16, Creative grief
There is such a deep-rooted yearning that we feel when our beloved children die. This yearning hurts so bad yet it also inspires us to get creative to do something beautiful in memory of our child. Have you done anything in memory of your child?
I've done a lot actually. When I am feeling my worst, I either want to do nothing and basically just exist, or I want to put that grieving energy to use. The first night we got home from the hospital I couldn't sleep. I knew I needed to get everything out of my head before I could even think about sleep, so I came here and wrote down Kayla's entire birth story from start to finish. Everything that happened, every emotion, every fear, everything beautiful about her birth and existence. Once I was finished, I literally felt wiped out, and I was able to sleep.
A few days later, I made a video for her. It is a montage of the pictures we had for her, starting with the pics of the positive pregnancy tests, and ending with a pic of her grave. I set it to music and shared it with our close family and friends. There is such an overwhelming feeling of wanting to show off your child like any parent would, and this allowed me to do that. Despite only having her with us for a day, I had many happy photos of my pregnancy, and many memories I wanted to preserve.
My husband and I also got tattoos for her. He got a beautiful letter K with angel wings on either side. I got her footprint with her name and birth/death date. We've been planning on doing a memorial garden ever since she passed, but so far the timing just hasn't been right with getting the yard ready for it. But I've been collecting things over the last two years to put in it. So far we've got an angel statue with an archway to go over it, some butterflies, a stone with a nice message engraved on it, a lantern with butterflies on it and of course we'll have flowers. I cannot wait until it is finished. We plan to do it first thing in the spring.
I've done a lot actually. When I am feeling my worst, I either want to do nothing and basically just exist, or I want to put that grieving energy to use. The first night we got home from the hospital I couldn't sleep. I knew I needed to get everything out of my head before I could even think about sleep, so I came here and wrote down Kayla's entire birth story from start to finish. Everything that happened, every emotion, every fear, everything beautiful about her birth and existence. Once I was finished, I literally felt wiped out, and I was able to sleep.
A few days later, I made a video for her. It is a montage of the pictures we had for her, starting with the pics of the positive pregnancy tests, and ending with a pic of her grave. I set it to music and shared it with our close family and friends. There is such an overwhelming feeling of wanting to show off your child like any parent would, and this allowed me to do that. Despite only having her with us for a day, I had many happy photos of my pregnancy, and many memories I wanted to preserve.
My husband and I also got tattoos for her. He got a beautiful letter K with angel wings on either side. I got her footprint with her name and birth/death date. We've been planning on doing a memorial garden ever since she passed, but so far the timing just hasn't been right with getting the yard ready for it. But I've been collecting things over the last two years to put in it. So far we've got an angel statue with an archway to go over it, some butterflies, a stone with a nice message engraved on it, a lantern with butterflies on it and of course we'll have flowers. I cannot wait until it is finished. We plan to do it first thing in the spring.
Thursday, October 15, 2015
Capture your heart-Day 15, Wave of light
As a wave of light makes its way around the world today, we take some time out to honor and remember our children. It is a day of sacred remembrance and awareness. What does this community mean to you? Where would you be without it? What would you like to see happen in the future with this community. Share your candles and light of hope.
The baby loss community is like a home to me. There are millions of members I will never meet, and of the ones I do know, do not talk to on a regular basis. But I feel safe. I don't have to worry that anyone is judging me, or pitying me, or thinking I am making too big of a deal out of it. When I come across another loss parent, it's like we can just look at each other and say oh, she/he gets it.
A couple months ago I stopped at my daughter's grave, and there was a utility truck right across the cemetery road doing some kind of job. As I sat there silently with my daughter, I wondered what this man was thinking while he worked. Did he know this was the baby section? He must have since there is an angel child statue in the middle of the mausoleums, and the niches are all small. Was he looking at me weird? Was he feeling sorry for me? Did he not care and just wanted to get his job done?
He finished up while I was still sitting there, he got back into his truck and turned around, but then stopped again and got out, and went over to one of the mausoleums and stood there for a moment in front of one of the niches. Ooooh, I thought to myself. He's one of us. I'd never met this man, will probably never see him again, but as soon as I saw him walk over to one of the baby graves, I instantly felt like we had this bond.
In the future I would like to see a more blurred line between us and them. I think it is getting better, but there is still a stark contrast between loss parents, and parents/people who have never been affected by it. Even if a parent has never been through it, I think more and more people know someone who has, and has been vocal about it, so in a secondary way they are affected and more empathetic. This year I've seen people share things on facebook about awareness month and October 15th who I now suspect may have had a loss, but have never opened up about it, and I've seen people sharing who I am almost certain have never had a loss, but are obviously helping to spread awareness, which I think is awesome.
Here is my rainbow, lighting (it's a battery candle) a candle for her big sister in Heaven. I love you Kayla, we think of you every day, and we honor you today along with all of the babies gone too soon.
The baby loss community is like a home to me. There are millions of members I will never meet, and of the ones I do know, do not talk to on a regular basis. But I feel safe. I don't have to worry that anyone is judging me, or pitying me, or thinking I am making too big of a deal out of it. When I come across another loss parent, it's like we can just look at each other and say oh, she/he gets it.
A couple months ago I stopped at my daughter's grave, and there was a utility truck right across the cemetery road doing some kind of job. As I sat there silently with my daughter, I wondered what this man was thinking while he worked. Did he know this was the baby section? He must have since there is an angel child statue in the middle of the mausoleums, and the niches are all small. Was he looking at me weird? Was he feeling sorry for me? Did he not care and just wanted to get his job done?
He finished up while I was still sitting there, he got back into his truck and turned around, but then stopped again and got out, and went over to one of the mausoleums and stood there for a moment in front of one of the niches. Ooooh, I thought to myself. He's one of us. I'd never met this man, will probably never see him again, but as soon as I saw him walk over to one of the baby graves, I instantly felt like we had this bond.
In the future I would like to see a more blurred line between us and them. I think it is getting better, but there is still a stark contrast between loss parents, and parents/people who have never been affected by it. Even if a parent has never been through it, I think more and more people know someone who has, and has been vocal about it, so in a secondary way they are affected and more empathetic. This year I've seen people share things on facebook about awareness month and October 15th who I now suspect may have had a loss, but have never opened up about it, and I've seen people sharing who I am almost certain have never had a loss, but are obviously helping to spread awareness, which I think is awesome.
Here is my rainbow, lighting (it's a battery candle) a candle for her big sister in Heaven. I love you Kayla, we think of you every day, and we honor you today along with all of the babies gone too soon.
Wednesday, October 14, 2015
Old fears coming back
When Emily was a newborn, I was terrified. I checked on her all the time, I watched her on the monitor, I slept with one eye open. It took me about two weeks to even feel comfortable rolling over and sleeping with my back to the monitor, afraid I wouldn't hear her if she needed me.
The fear subsided some over the months, but there was still many many nights I'd have to go check on her because the monitor wasn't enough to convince me she was ok and breathing. But now that she's older, we really only have the monitor so she can wake us up. She's only right down the hall, but if I am asleep and both of our doors are closed, I likely wouldn't hear her. Most nights I don't even go get the monitor until she's been in bed for a while, knowing I can easily hear her through the walls while I am awake.
Even once I wasn't nearly as scared anymore, I still went in to check on her each night before I went to bed, but now I don't even do that anymore. Unless she needs to be covered with a blanket or something, seeing her on the monitor is good enough for me before I go to bed. Especially because I don't want to risk waking her by going in her room.
She normally wakes me up around 8am, but it wasn't that unusual for her to still be sleeping at 8:15 when my husband got home from work. As he crawled into bed, he looked at the monitor for a minute and asked if she was ok. I glanced at it, said yeah, and closed my eyes again, planning on taking advantage of her late morning with a little more sleep myself. But then my eyes opened, and I'd watch the monitor, and then close my eyes again. Then open, and look longer. Finally I started pushing the talk button....often just the noise of the mic coming on is enough to make her stir, but nothing.
Had my husband not said anything, I probably wouldn't have given it another thought, but now I was a little worried. So I went in her room, and immediately noticed no noise. Usually I can hear her breathing or even snoring a little. I put my hand on her back but she didn't move. I didn't feel any real obvious movements of her breathing. Then I felt her cheek and it was cold. Now I started to freak out, I squatted down to look at her face through the bars, and just then she sighed a deep sigh and turned her head. Good lord, I was just on the brink of completely flipping out. Her cheek was cold because the house had gotten down to 65 that morning so my husband turned the heat on when he got home. But thankfully after I saw she was fine, I did get to go back to bed for a nice 45 minutes.
I am so thankful I am not scared like that all the time anymore, but damn when those fears creep back in, they come back with a vengence. Mark that as reason #422 why I don't want another kid....I am not sure I could take those fear filled nights in the first few months again. Oh, and reason #423, a couple weeks ago Emily and I went up north to see my dad and stepmom. My husband didn't go, so it was just me and Em staying in our camper, which is on my dad's property. I was laying in bed, and I noticed my stomach felt weird. It didn't hurt, they weren't cramps. I don't know, just a weird feeling.
Right then I thought boy am I glad I am not pregnant, and I don't have to worry that this is something bad. That's the same way I feel when I start spotting each month, is whew, it's so nice to get my period each month, where the bleeding is expected and normal. It's nice not to have to be terrified all the time that you're bleeding.
Ok, so on a good note. I went to pick up Em from my inlaws tonight. She was already in her jammies with the little grippy feet. As I was sitting there talking to my MIL, I noticed Emily was behind my chair, playing in the dog's water dish with her foot. So the foot of her jammies were soaked. I squeezed out as much water as I could and cleaned up the floor, but her jammies were still damp, so I told her to go play on the carpet. But now, she kept coming in the kitchen, and walking on their already slippery tile floor, with a wet foot. Despite the grippy feet, boom, down she went. It was like she was walking on ice, she'd be walking just fine, and then whoops, her foot would slip again and she'd go down again.
I'm honestly not a mean mommie, but my MIL and I were laughing so hard we were doubled over and our stomachs hurt. It was just so funny watching her take a few steps, and boom, a few more steps and boom. Then she started walking funny to compensate, but she would still fall. She must have slipped over a dozen times in 5 minutes. By the way, she fell on her diaper padded butt and laughed every time, I am not that mean that I would laugh if she were hurt.
Finally I went to my car to get my phone to record it, but then she stopped slipping. It was seriously the funniest thing I have seen in a long time.
The fear subsided some over the months, but there was still many many nights I'd have to go check on her because the monitor wasn't enough to convince me she was ok and breathing. But now that she's older, we really only have the monitor so she can wake us up. She's only right down the hall, but if I am asleep and both of our doors are closed, I likely wouldn't hear her. Most nights I don't even go get the monitor until she's been in bed for a while, knowing I can easily hear her through the walls while I am awake.
Even once I wasn't nearly as scared anymore, I still went in to check on her each night before I went to bed, but now I don't even do that anymore. Unless she needs to be covered with a blanket or something, seeing her on the monitor is good enough for me before I go to bed. Especially because I don't want to risk waking her by going in her room.
She normally wakes me up around 8am, but it wasn't that unusual for her to still be sleeping at 8:15 when my husband got home from work. As he crawled into bed, he looked at the monitor for a minute and asked if she was ok. I glanced at it, said yeah, and closed my eyes again, planning on taking advantage of her late morning with a little more sleep myself. But then my eyes opened, and I'd watch the monitor, and then close my eyes again. Then open, and look longer. Finally I started pushing the talk button....often just the noise of the mic coming on is enough to make her stir, but nothing.
Had my husband not said anything, I probably wouldn't have given it another thought, but now I was a little worried. So I went in her room, and immediately noticed no noise. Usually I can hear her breathing or even snoring a little. I put my hand on her back but she didn't move. I didn't feel any real obvious movements of her breathing. Then I felt her cheek and it was cold. Now I started to freak out, I squatted down to look at her face through the bars, and just then she sighed a deep sigh and turned her head. Good lord, I was just on the brink of completely flipping out. Her cheek was cold because the house had gotten down to 65 that morning so my husband turned the heat on when he got home. But thankfully after I saw she was fine, I did get to go back to bed for a nice 45 minutes.
I am so thankful I am not scared like that all the time anymore, but damn when those fears creep back in, they come back with a vengence. Mark that as reason #422 why I don't want another kid....I am not sure I could take those fear filled nights in the first few months again. Oh, and reason #423, a couple weeks ago Emily and I went up north to see my dad and stepmom. My husband didn't go, so it was just me and Em staying in our camper, which is on my dad's property. I was laying in bed, and I noticed my stomach felt weird. It didn't hurt, they weren't cramps. I don't know, just a weird feeling.
Right then I thought boy am I glad I am not pregnant, and I don't have to worry that this is something bad. That's the same way I feel when I start spotting each month, is whew, it's so nice to get my period each month, where the bleeding is expected and normal. It's nice not to have to be terrified all the time that you're bleeding.
Ok, so on a good note. I went to pick up Em from my inlaws tonight. She was already in her jammies with the little grippy feet. As I was sitting there talking to my MIL, I noticed Emily was behind my chair, playing in the dog's water dish with her foot. So the foot of her jammies were soaked. I squeezed out as much water as I could and cleaned up the floor, but her jammies were still damp, so I told her to go play on the carpet. But now, she kept coming in the kitchen, and walking on their already slippery tile floor, with a wet foot. Despite the grippy feet, boom, down she went. It was like she was walking on ice, she'd be walking just fine, and then whoops, her foot would slip again and she'd go down again.
I'm honestly not a mean mommie, but my MIL and I were laughing so hard we were doubled over and our stomachs hurt. It was just so funny watching her take a few steps, and boom, a few more steps and boom. Then she started walking funny to compensate, but she would still fall. She must have slipped over a dozen times in 5 minutes. By the way, she fell on her diaper padded butt and laughed every time, I am not that mean that I would laugh if she were hurt.
Finally I went to my car to get my phone to record it, but then she stopped slipping. It was seriously the funniest thing I have seen in a long time.
Capture your grief-Day 14, Express your heart
This is the day in the month where you can say whatever is on your heart that you would like. Is there anything you were hoping would be in the month of subjects that wasn't? I am sure there is a bunch of things. This is your chance to share it, find your voice. What is it that you want to express? If you are lost for words, a subject you could write about is grief myths. What does grief look like for you?
For today's open subject, I want to write about a fellow mom. I don't know her, before yesterday she was a perfect stranger, but now I feel like I know exactly how she is feeling tonight. A mutual friend of ours put us in contact because Sarah, this once stranger, received a heartbreaking fatal diagnosis about her unborn baby, and tonight she gave birth to her daughter and said goodbye to her. Twenty four hours ago I knew nothing about this woman, and now tonight I know exactly the heartbreak and devastation she is feeling right now.
I used to think everything happens for a reason. I still believe that to some degree. Having your heartbroken in your twenties helps you find your true love later on, yada yada. But I will never believe that my baby died for any reason. I'll never believe that there was some reason that she was needed in heaven, before she even had a chance to start her life on earth. I'll never believe that God gave me this precious gift, only to take it back and put me through the worst pain I've ever felt. I don't believe that others go through grief, to be able to help "newbies" in grief down the road, but I do believe it is a good light that can come from darkness.
I've stood in the doorway Sarah is standing in right now, looking down a very long, pitch black road. Unable to see any light, unknowing when or where the light will come from. I've stood in that doorway, I've ventured down the path, and I walked and walked and walked until eventually the pitch darkness slowly began to give way to light, until I was finally walking in the daylight. I've been down that path and made it to the other side.
It deeply pains me that this person I don't even know is just starting that journey, because I know she has such a long road of emptiness, tears, and heartache. But it makes me happy that I can pay it forward from the lovely ladies who helped me when I was just starting down this road, and show her that there will be light again. Others can empathize, and they can guess, but they'll never really know how this feels until they walk the road themselves, so I am grateful our lives were able to cross paths so I can try to help her, to be a soundboard for her to vent to, to tell her "I remember feeling exactly that way", and to maybe be her hope that you can get through the worst days of your life, and smile again.
Whoever is reading this now, please send out thoughts and prayers tonight to Sarah, her husband Paul and their sweet angel Dylan.
For today's open subject, I want to write about a fellow mom. I don't know her, before yesterday she was a perfect stranger, but now I feel like I know exactly how she is feeling tonight. A mutual friend of ours put us in contact because Sarah, this once stranger, received a heartbreaking fatal diagnosis about her unborn baby, and tonight she gave birth to her daughter and said goodbye to her. Twenty four hours ago I knew nothing about this woman, and now tonight I know exactly the heartbreak and devastation she is feeling right now.
I used to think everything happens for a reason. I still believe that to some degree. Having your heartbroken in your twenties helps you find your true love later on, yada yada. But I will never believe that my baby died for any reason. I'll never believe that there was some reason that she was needed in heaven, before she even had a chance to start her life on earth. I'll never believe that God gave me this precious gift, only to take it back and put me through the worst pain I've ever felt. I don't believe that others go through grief, to be able to help "newbies" in grief down the road, but I do believe it is a good light that can come from darkness.
I've stood in the doorway Sarah is standing in right now, looking down a very long, pitch black road. Unable to see any light, unknowing when or where the light will come from. I've stood in that doorway, I've ventured down the path, and I walked and walked and walked until eventually the pitch darkness slowly began to give way to light, until I was finally walking in the daylight. I've been down that path and made it to the other side.
It deeply pains me that this person I don't even know is just starting that journey, because I know she has such a long road of emptiness, tears, and heartache. But it makes me happy that I can pay it forward from the lovely ladies who helped me when I was just starting down this road, and show her that there will be light again. Others can empathize, and they can guess, but they'll never really know how this feels until they walk the road themselves, so I am grateful our lives were able to cross paths so I can try to help her, to be a soundboard for her to vent to, to tell her "I remember feeling exactly that way", and to maybe be her hope that you can get through the worst days of your life, and smile again.
Whoever is reading this now, please send out thoughts and prayers tonight to Sarah, her husband Paul and their sweet angel Dylan.
Capture your grief- Day 13, Regrets and Triggers
What are some of the regrets you have about your experience with grief so far? Do you believe there is a way to heal that regret? Do you have any grief triggers? Maybe it is the pregnant woman in the store or a scent that reminds you of that time in your life. Perhaps it is a sound, song, season, etc. Share what pulls on your heartstrings.
I can't say I really have many regrets, because there really isn't anything I could have done differently. I was feeling crampy for a few days before I went to the hospital, I had a nagging feeling that something wasn't right, but it took me a while to really acknowledge that I was feeling that. But had I gone to the hospital a few days earlier, would anything have been different? I don't know. If my water hadn't ruptured yet at that point, they might have just assumed the cramps were normal and sent me back home anyway.
Even if they saw my bag was about to rupture and that my cervix was short, I doubt an emergency cerclage or bedrest could have saved my pregnancy. I guess if I did have any regrets, it would be that maybe if I had gone in earlier, they would have known for sure whether or not I had IC, whereas not catching me until I was actually in labor, they think it was IC, but they cannot be sure. But even knowing for sure wouldn't really change things. I still had the cerclage for my pregnancy with Emily, they still treated me as if I for certain had IC.
At least with not knowing, even though it could have been the infection that put me in preterm labor, it still could have been the IC, so that gave me some hope to cling to, and I felt good that it was something we could take action against. But if I knew it was definitely the infection, I think my pregnancy would have been much more stressful, worrying that it could happen again and that there was nothing that could be done to prevent it.
In the days, weeks, and months following my loss, seeing baby girls was a trigger for me. Especially when another co-worker brought in her one month old to work to visit, and I had just gotten back from my leave after Kayla was born. Hearing a newborn cry sent me over the edge. I spent the next three hours hiding out in my car, the hallway and the bathroom trying to hold back the tears. Little girls aren't a trigger for me anymore, since obviously I live with one. Even seeing a kid out and about that would have been Kayla's age doesn't really get me. It just doesn't dawn on me I guess.
But if I specifically hear about a kid that is her age, like if I hear of a kid who was born in winter/spring/summer of 2013, that can be a trigger, because then it's like right in my face, that this kid is for sure her age. When we announced we were pregnant with her, a friend of my husband's replied that his wife was also pregnant and due a couple months after me. Fast forward to a few months ago, that same friend posted something about his 22 month old kid, and it hit me that that was the kid that was due to be born a month or two after Kayla. And he is here, running around, talking, about to turn 2, but Kayla isn't. So that was hard to realize.
I can't say I really have many regrets, because there really isn't anything I could have done differently. I was feeling crampy for a few days before I went to the hospital, I had a nagging feeling that something wasn't right, but it took me a while to really acknowledge that I was feeling that. But had I gone to the hospital a few days earlier, would anything have been different? I don't know. If my water hadn't ruptured yet at that point, they might have just assumed the cramps were normal and sent me back home anyway.
Even if they saw my bag was about to rupture and that my cervix was short, I doubt an emergency cerclage or bedrest could have saved my pregnancy. I guess if I did have any regrets, it would be that maybe if I had gone in earlier, they would have known for sure whether or not I had IC, whereas not catching me until I was actually in labor, they think it was IC, but they cannot be sure. But even knowing for sure wouldn't really change things. I still had the cerclage for my pregnancy with Emily, they still treated me as if I for certain had IC.
At least with not knowing, even though it could have been the infection that put me in preterm labor, it still could have been the IC, so that gave me some hope to cling to, and I felt good that it was something we could take action against. But if I knew it was definitely the infection, I think my pregnancy would have been much more stressful, worrying that it could happen again and that there was nothing that could be done to prevent it.
In the days, weeks, and months following my loss, seeing baby girls was a trigger for me. Especially when another co-worker brought in her one month old to work to visit, and I had just gotten back from my leave after Kayla was born. Hearing a newborn cry sent me over the edge. I spent the next three hours hiding out in my car, the hallway and the bathroom trying to hold back the tears. Little girls aren't a trigger for me anymore, since obviously I live with one. Even seeing a kid out and about that would have been Kayla's age doesn't really get me. It just doesn't dawn on me I guess.
But if I specifically hear about a kid that is her age, like if I hear of a kid who was born in winter/spring/summer of 2013, that can be a trigger, because then it's like right in my face, that this kid is for sure her age. When we announced we were pregnant with her, a friend of my husband's replied that his wife was also pregnant and due a couple months after me. Fast forward to a few months ago, that same friend posted something about his 22 month old kid, and it hit me that that was the kid that was due to be born a month or two after Kayla. And he is here, running around, talking, about to turn 2, but Kayla isn't. So that was hard to realize.
Capture your grief-Day 12, Normalizing grief
Often while grieving we have feelings or isolation because we fear judgement that what we are feeling isn't normal. But it is amazing to see just how many people feel the same way. When others stand up and express how they feel through sharing their experiences, it allows us to say "hey, I feel that way too". Connecting and communicating our experiences we are able to normalize our grief for ourselves and others. So share something about your grief journey that you might feel is strange or not common. It might be something you do to remember your children or maybe it is something you fear. By sharing these parts of our stories we can educate others on the grief experience.
I am a few days behind, so I'll catch up. One of my most overwhelming emotions when I was going through my loss was anger. I was angry at everyone and everything. Something I felt angry about is also something I feel bad for feeling angry about, and that is when people say a loss is a loss no matter how far along. I do agree, I agree each is devastating in their own right, but I just don't think you can put one very early loss in the same category as a stillbirth. You just can't. Just as, as devastated as I was to lose Kayla, I still cannot claim to know how a parent feels when their living child dies. I love both my daughters and it was so so hard to lose Kayla, but the idea of losing Emily, my daughter who has been in my life for almost 19 months, who smiles, laughs, hugs, kisses, learns new words, walks, and chatters with me all day long....I just don't think I could even function anymore if something happened.
And then I feel guilty for feeling that way. Who am I to say whose grief is worse? Who am I to put any sort of restriction on someone's grief when it comes to their children? I feel like that's all life is after baby loss, is grief and guilt, grief and guilt.
Another thing I went through was feeling superstitious. I wouldn't say I am an overly superstitious person otherwise. I've been known to give in to superstitions here and there, but it's not like they rule my life. But when I was pregnant with Emily, I was so afraid to do anything that might "jinx" it. With Kayla I packed my hospital back at around 20 weeks and ended up needing it a week and a half later, so with Emily I refused to pack it until around 35 weeks. I wouldn't pack it until I was to a point where I would feel somewhat ok if I went into labor at that point.
The night I went into labor with Kayla, my husband and I were watching the movie, This is 40. We never did finish it because we had to go to the hospital, and I thought about it a few times but I couldn't bring myself to watch it while I was still pregnant with Emily. Of course I know packing a bag, and watching a movie wouldn't make me spontaneously go into labor, but I still avoided those things nonetheless.
I am a few days behind, so I'll catch up. One of my most overwhelming emotions when I was going through my loss was anger. I was angry at everyone and everything. Something I felt angry about is also something I feel bad for feeling angry about, and that is when people say a loss is a loss no matter how far along. I do agree, I agree each is devastating in their own right, but I just don't think you can put one very early loss in the same category as a stillbirth. You just can't. Just as, as devastated as I was to lose Kayla, I still cannot claim to know how a parent feels when their living child dies. I love both my daughters and it was so so hard to lose Kayla, but the idea of losing Emily, my daughter who has been in my life for almost 19 months, who smiles, laughs, hugs, kisses, learns new words, walks, and chatters with me all day long....I just don't think I could even function anymore if something happened.
And then I feel guilty for feeling that way. Who am I to say whose grief is worse? Who am I to put any sort of restriction on someone's grief when it comes to their children? I feel like that's all life is after baby loss, is grief and guilt, grief and guilt.
Another thing I went through was feeling superstitious. I wouldn't say I am an overly superstitious person otherwise. I've been known to give in to superstitions here and there, but it's not like they rule my life. But when I was pregnant with Emily, I was so afraid to do anything that might "jinx" it. With Kayla I packed my hospital back at around 20 weeks and ended up needing it a week and a half later, so with Emily I refused to pack it until around 35 weeks. I wouldn't pack it until I was to a point where I would feel somewhat ok if I went into labor at that point.
The night I went into labor with Kayla, my husband and I were watching the movie, This is 40. We never did finish it because we had to go to the hospital, and I thought about it a few times but I couldn't bring myself to watch it while I was still pregnant with Emily. Of course I know packing a bag, and watching a movie wouldn't make me spontaneously go into labor, but I still avoided those things nonetheless.
Sunday, October 11, 2015
Capture your grief: Day 11, Glow in the woods
Today I want to honor the beautiful writers at Glow in the woods, past and present. This was the first place I found on the internet where I could read about other parents experiences with grief. They were literally my light in the darkness. Share some resources that have aided in your journey.
I found the articles at Still Standing magazine to be amazingly helpful, most in particular the writing by Angela Miller, entitled Why you didn't fail as a mother. This spoke to me, it was like it was written for me. I read it often, whenever I need to convince myself of the words it is telling me. It is like my little bible. I have since purchased her book, and we had Kayla's name added to the memorial page in the 3rd addition. The following excerpts are the ones that get me the most:
"God didn't do this to punish you, smite you, or teach you a lesson, that is not God's way. You could not have prevented this if you have tried harder, prayed harder, or if you were a 'better' person. Nor if you ate better, loved harder, yoga-ed more, did x, y, z to the nth degree-fill in the blank with any other lie your mind devises. You could not have prevented this even if you could have predicted the future like no one can".
"Wash your hands of anyone who has made you feel less than by questioning everything you did or didn't do. Anyone whose words or looks have implied this is somehow your fault. Especially if that someone happens to be you. Sometimes it is not what others say that keeps us shackled in shame".
"No one else could do what you do. No one else could mother your child as well as you can, as well as you are. No one else could let your child's love and light shine through the way you do.
"For whatever it's worth, I see you. I hear your guttural sobs. I feel your ache deep inside your bones. I see you fall down and get up, fall down and get up, over and over again. I notice the grit and guts it takes to pry yourself out of bed every single day and force your bloodied feet to stand up and keep walking".
"For even in death, you lovingly mother your precious child still".
I also find a lot of solace in quotes I find on pinterest. Most of them are very short, but they are so on point that it's like someone looked inside my heart and found the words I cannot come up with on my own. I am sure anyone who follows me gets tired of seeing all these depressing quotes, but they help me. It helps me to explain how I feel, in one short sentence these quotes get me, even if it is just to read myself.
I found the articles at Still Standing magazine to be amazingly helpful, most in particular the writing by Angela Miller, entitled Why you didn't fail as a mother. This spoke to me, it was like it was written for me. I read it often, whenever I need to convince myself of the words it is telling me. It is like my little bible. I have since purchased her book, and we had Kayla's name added to the memorial page in the 3rd addition. The following excerpts are the ones that get me the most:
"God didn't do this to punish you, smite you, or teach you a lesson, that is not God's way. You could not have prevented this if you have tried harder, prayed harder, or if you were a 'better' person. Nor if you ate better, loved harder, yoga-ed more, did x, y, z to the nth degree-fill in the blank with any other lie your mind devises. You could not have prevented this even if you could have predicted the future like no one can".
"Wash your hands of anyone who has made you feel less than by questioning everything you did or didn't do. Anyone whose words or looks have implied this is somehow your fault. Especially if that someone happens to be you. Sometimes it is not what others say that keeps us shackled in shame".
"No one else could do what you do. No one else could mother your child as well as you can, as well as you are. No one else could let your child's love and light shine through the way you do.
"For whatever it's worth, I see you. I hear your guttural sobs. I feel your ache deep inside your bones. I see you fall down and get up, fall down and get up, over and over again. I notice the grit and guts it takes to pry yourself out of bed every single day and force your bloodied feet to stand up and keep walking".
"For even in death, you lovingly mother your precious child still".
I also find a lot of solace in quotes I find on pinterest. Most of them are very short, but they are so on point that it's like someone looked inside my heart and found the words I cannot come up with on my own. I am sure anyone who follows me gets tired of seeing all these depressing quotes, but they help me. It helps me to explain how I feel, in one short sentence these quotes get me, even if it is just to read myself.
Godparents
When Kayla was born sleeping, we couldn't have her baptized because technically it is only for the living. But the hospital chaplain came to our room, I held Kayla while my husband, dad, stepmom and my best friend gathered around and the chaplain did a blessing over Kayla.
It didn't occur to me at the time to name Godparents for obvious reasons. A Godparent cannot guide a child who isn't here, and I didn't know I would have to think about such things. My best friend has two sons, her oldest's Godparents are his uncle on his mom's side and his aunt on his dad's side. I am her younger son's Godmother, along with his uncle on his dad's side as Godfather.
Following the same path, Ryan and I chose to go with family for our first living child, naming my brother and Ryan's sister as Emily's Godparents, and if we ever had another child, we intended our best friends, Amanda and Dan to be his or her Godparents. Of course never say never, but another child is looking less likely each day. But it makes me a little sad, because I would have loved for my best friend to be my child's Godmother. We've been friends for 24 years, we were each other's maids of honor, I can think of no better person suited for the job.
So I decided today that despite Kayla not being here, I know Amanda loves her and she loves me. When we lost her, Amanda was right by my side, she cried with me, she laughed with me when I needed to, she even wiped my nose when I cried and got all snotty :) So it only makes sense for her to be my baby's Godmother, if only in spirit. So I asked her today, and she accepted, saying she would be honored. I hope Dan will also accept. As parents of an angel baby, we are so so lucky to have so many people who love our child.
It didn't occur to me at the time to name Godparents for obvious reasons. A Godparent cannot guide a child who isn't here, and I didn't know I would have to think about such things. My best friend has two sons, her oldest's Godparents are his uncle on his mom's side and his aunt on his dad's side. I am her younger son's Godmother, along with his uncle on his dad's side as Godfather.
Following the same path, Ryan and I chose to go with family for our first living child, naming my brother and Ryan's sister as Emily's Godparents, and if we ever had another child, we intended our best friends, Amanda and Dan to be his or her Godparents. Of course never say never, but another child is looking less likely each day. But it makes me a little sad, because I would have loved for my best friend to be my child's Godmother. We've been friends for 24 years, we were each other's maids of honor, I can think of no better person suited for the job.
So I decided today that despite Kayla not being here, I know Amanda loves her and she loves me. When we lost her, Amanda was right by my side, she cried with me, she laughed with me when I needed to, she even wiped my nose when I cried and got all snotty :) So it only makes sense for her to be my baby's Godmother, if only in spirit. So I asked her today, and she accepted, saying she would be honored. I hope Dan will also accept. As parents of an angel baby, we are so so lucky to have so many people who love our child.
Saturday, October 10, 2015
Capture your grief-Day 10, Words
Writing is a wonderful tool for healing. When you put your pen to paper you may have no idea where you are going or where you will end up and that is the beauty of it. It is your own adventure. You can write about whatever is on your heart right now.
I miss her.
Friday, October 9, 2015
Capture your grief- Day 9, Family
What does your family look like today? Who is your family to you? What do they mean to you?
This is my family, though every time I look at this picture it makes me a little sad that it doesn't fully represent our family. The next time we have family pics taken, we're going to include our Molly Bear we had made for Kayla, so she can "be in the picture" too.
Our family also includes my dad, stepmom, stepsister, brother, sister-in-law, my husband's parents, his sister, her husband and their two kids and our niece. But I would also include my best friend as family. We have been friends for 24 years. Celebrating life's happy moments and sad; losing boyfriends, failing a test, graduating college, getting married, losing parents, having children, getting a new job, losing children, or just laughing for 30 minutes over something stupid, she has been there for me through it all. She's more than just my best friend, she is the sister I never had, and I love her to death.
This is my family, though every time I look at this picture it makes me a little sad that it doesn't fully represent our family. The next time we have family pics taken, we're going to include our Molly Bear we had made for Kayla, so she can "be in the picture" too.
Our family also includes my dad, stepmom, stepsister, brother, sister-in-law, my husband's parents, his sister, her husband and their two kids and our niece. But I would also include my best friend as family. We have been friends for 24 years. Celebrating life's happy moments and sad; losing boyfriends, failing a test, graduating college, getting married, losing parents, having children, getting a new job, losing children, or just laughing for 30 minutes over something stupid, she has been there for me through it all. She's more than just my best friend, she is the sister I never had, and I love her to death.
Thursday, October 8, 2015
Capture your grief: Day 8, Wishlist
What are your wishes for this grief journey? What do you need from others? It might be that you want your child to always be remembered. You may wish to educate others on grief and healing. Maybe your wish is to turn this tragedy into something beautiful. Spend some time thinking about what it is you hope to be able to do, learn or gain from this experience.
I have a few. First, I wish for people who have not experienced a loss, to stop judging and be empathetic. Even if you hear of something that you don't think you would do if in the same situation, just shut up, and be supportive. Acknowledge that you cannot possibly understand if you have not walked in our shoes, and be thankful that you don't understand.
Second, I wish that my living daughter will somehow be able to form a bond with her sister in Heaven. It hurts to have to expose her to such tragedy at a young age, but my hope is that she is interested in her sister, asks questions, and feels her sister is watching over her. I also wish for her to never feel like we had her just to replace Kayla.
Third, I wish that my angel knows how very much she is loved and was wanted. I wish that she knows how sorry I am that I could not save her, and that she knows she was not, and could never be replaced.
I have a few. First, I wish for people who have not experienced a loss, to stop judging and be empathetic. Even if you hear of something that you don't think you would do if in the same situation, just shut up, and be supportive. Acknowledge that you cannot possibly understand if you have not walked in our shoes, and be thankful that you don't understand.
Second, I wish that my living daughter will somehow be able to form a bond with her sister in Heaven. It hurts to have to expose her to such tragedy at a young age, but my hope is that she is interested in her sister, asks questions, and feels her sister is watching over her. I also wish for her to never feel like we had her just to replace Kayla.
Third, I wish that my angel knows how very much she is loved and was wanted. I wish that she knows how sorry I am that I could not save her, and that she knows she was not, and could never be replaced.
Wednesday, October 7, 2015
Capture your grief-Day 7, Memory
Share a memory of your child. It doesn't have to be a positive or negative memory, just share whatever it is you want or feel drawn to sharing. You are the story teller here.
The first night after Kayla was born, we asked the nurse where she was going to spend the night. She wheeled a crib over and said she could stay with us. I would have loved to have had her in bed with me, but she was so tiny and fragile. Even though I know I couldn't have hurt her, it would have broken me if I had pushed her out of bed during the night or something.
Despite everything that happened, I slept well. I hadn't slept in over 36 hours and I had had such a physically and emotionally taxing day. The hourly temp checks and beeping of my IV woke me each time, but I easily went back to sleep, and mercifully had a dreamless sleep. When I woke at 6am, it was still dark out. I could see through the window that it had snowed the night before, and my husband was still sleeping. I sat up in bed, and got Kayla out of her crib.
I held her, and just looked at her beautiful face, and sobbed. The whole world was quiet and it was just me and her. Despite her being gone, it was a beautiful moment I was so thankful to have with my daughter.
The first night after Kayla was born, we asked the nurse where she was going to spend the night. She wheeled a crib over and said she could stay with us. I would have loved to have had her in bed with me, but she was so tiny and fragile. Even though I know I couldn't have hurt her, it would have broken me if I had pushed her out of bed during the night or something.
Despite everything that happened, I slept well. I hadn't slept in over 36 hours and I had had such a physically and emotionally taxing day. The hourly temp checks and beeping of my IV woke me each time, but I easily went back to sleep, and mercifully had a dreamless sleep. When I woke at 6am, it was still dark out. I could see through the window that it had snowed the night before, and my husband was still sleeping. I sat up in bed, and got Kayla out of her crib.
I held her, and just looked at her beautiful face, and sobbed. The whole world was quiet and it was just me and her. Despite her being gone, it was a beautiful moment I was so thankful to have with my daughter.
Tuesday, October 6, 2015
Capture your grief-Day 6, Books
So many of us turn to reading in the wake of the death of our children. We take solace in other peoples' words, stories, journeys, and wisdom. Have you read any books that have helped in this journey of healing after loss? They don't have to specifically be about the death of a child, just anything that helped you. Share about how they helped you and what you loved about them. You can share about books that helped grieving children too. Please feel welcome to share links.
I only read one book after my loss, but it wasn't helpful because it was so heavily about religion and loss. I am religious, or maybe more spiritual. I believe in God and I have a personal relationship with Him, but the content about the book was much more about trusting Him and letting Him lead you through this and being His plan and if you just have faith you'll get through it.
No offense to anyone who believes it, but I don't. I don't believe God made this happen, and I don't believe He is testing me. I have faith that God exists, I have faith that He weeped with us the day Kayla was born, but having faith in Him doesn't get me through it, because I don't believe He was behind it. I don't believe He controls the puppet strings, so therefore He cannot necessarily help me through it if that makes sense. I don't even remember the title of that book.
What helped me most was reading what others had to say on loss message boards. Hearing that others felt the exact same way I did helped me to feel less alone. Knowing that someone else was sad when they stopped bleeding postpartum made me feel like I wasn't crazy, because being sad when the bleeding stopped seemed pretty crazy to me. It was a comfort that I wasn't alone in the guilt I felt, and that others felt it too, despite it not being our fault.
Two other books that I found to be amazing were written for kids, to help them understand about their sibling in Heaven. I came across them on Amazon one day and ordered them both immediately. I've already read them both to Emily a few times and of course she doesn't understand yet, but I think they will be really helpful in helping her to understand when she is older, and starting the dialogue so she can ask questions about her sister. The books are called Someone came before you, and My baby big sister.
http://www.amazon.com/Someone-Came-Before-You-Schwiebert/dp/0972424156/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1444186087&sr=8-1&keywords=someone+came+before+you
http://www.amazon.com/Baby-Big-Sister-Subsequent-Pregnancy/dp/1451579764/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1444186060&sr=8-1&keywords=my+baby+big+sister
I only read one book after my loss, but it wasn't helpful because it was so heavily about religion and loss. I am religious, or maybe more spiritual. I believe in God and I have a personal relationship with Him, but the content about the book was much more about trusting Him and letting Him lead you through this and being His plan and if you just have faith you'll get through it.
No offense to anyone who believes it, but I don't. I don't believe God made this happen, and I don't believe He is testing me. I have faith that God exists, I have faith that He weeped with us the day Kayla was born, but having faith in Him doesn't get me through it, because I don't believe He was behind it. I don't believe He controls the puppet strings, so therefore He cannot necessarily help me through it if that makes sense. I don't even remember the title of that book.
What helped me most was reading what others had to say on loss message boards. Hearing that others felt the exact same way I did helped me to feel less alone. Knowing that someone else was sad when they stopped bleeding postpartum made me feel like I wasn't crazy, because being sad when the bleeding stopped seemed pretty crazy to me. It was a comfort that I wasn't alone in the guilt I felt, and that others felt it too, despite it not being our fault.
Two other books that I found to be amazing were written for kids, to help them understand about their sibling in Heaven. I came across them on Amazon one day and ordered them both immediately. I've already read them both to Emily a few times and of course she doesn't understand yet, but I think they will be really helpful in helping her to understand when she is older, and starting the dialogue so she can ask questions about her sister. The books are called Someone came before you, and My baby big sister.
http://www.amazon.com/Someone-Came-Before-You-Schwiebert/dp/0972424156/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1444186087&sr=8-1&keywords=someone+came+before+you
http://www.amazon.com/Baby-Big-Sister-Subsequent-Pregnancy/dp/1451579764/ref=sr_1_1?ie=UTF8&qid=1444186060&sr=8-1&keywords=my+baby+big+sister
Monday, October 5, 2015
Blah
First let me say, I love being a stay at home mom. Don't get me wrong. I've done the 9-5 (8-5), 40+ hour work week, I've done the working mom and being away from my kid (albeit briefly), so I know for certain I am in no way ready to go back to that. But I just feel so blah lately.
I cannot, or I guess I choose not to get on a good sleep schedule. Right now it's 11:30, its completely feasible to go to bed in 30 minutes, but no doubt I will find something to keep me busy until 2, and then I will complain about how tired I am at 8am when Emily wakes me up. After breakfast I let her watch cartoons while I surf Facebook....there is usually nothing worthwhile to look at anyway, but I find myself addicted to looking at it anyway. I heard a good quote once, it said Facebook is like a fridge, even if you KNOW there is nothing new, you have to keep checking it every 5 minutes. I would really like to get to a point where I just look at it say twice a day. Once in the afternoon and once at night. Not sure I can do that though. Damn smartphone!'
Before I know it, it's 11am, I have accomplished nothing and I am getting sleepy, so I often take a nap when I put Emily down for a nap. Then I really get nothing done because when I wake up, she is now awake and I feel unproductive, lazy, and blah. Most days I just live in t shirts (maternity shirts at that) and yoga pants, and I know I would feel better if I got dressed, but I can't imagine running around the house, getting all sweaty and yucky doing housework, wearing decent clothes. Plus I try to go for a walk in the mornings, so why get dressed for real, only to change an hour or two later to go for a walk?
I wonder if I am depressed. I am not sure. I mean, my daughter keeps me happy, but my behavior, especially my love for sleeping, says otherwise. I think about Kayla and I miss her every day, but it's been 2.5 years. I am no longer at the point where my pain is raw and I just sit around in a deep depression every day about it. But, I suppose between losing her, missing my mom and grandparents, and being in a stay at home mom funk, I could be mildly depressed. Enough to keep me from getting my shit together and being productive each day.
I am on an anti-depressant, but maybe it's not enough. I saw my doctor a few weeks ago for BC, I had it on my list to ask about increasing my Zoloft, but something stopped me from bringing it up. Maybe because I think I am already on a high dosage (100mg, not sure if that's high or not) or if I am ashamed of it, or if I think I shouldn't be feeling depressed, I am not sure. But I read a tip on pinterest to divide your daily chores up into blocks of time. I do have a list of things I need to do each day, but I have no real order in which I do them. I just kind of do them as they come to me, so maybe setting more structure to my day will help. So I made up a list for tomorrow. After breakfast, Emily can watch cartoons and I can browse Facebook for 30 minutes. Then I have to put in a load of laundry, scoop the litter boxes and get dressed.
Then we'll go for a walk. After that I will do dishes, clean the bathroom and switch the laundry to the dryer. From 12-1 I give Emily her lunch and put her down for a nap, and then from 1- 2 I'll eat my lunch and take a break. Then I will dust the furniture and pay bills, and then put the laundry away. I'll empty the dishwasher and take another 30 minutes break, and then I'll take the dog for a walk. This has me finishing at 5, which is a standard work day. Then of course I'll have to figure out what to do about dinner, feed Emily and put her to bed, but those last few hours of the evening can be spent relaxing with her, and hopefully feeling a sense of accomplishment for getting everything done.
I am excited to try it out. So now I am off to take some melatonin, and read in bed and hopefully get to sleep by a decent time tonight.
I cannot, or I guess I choose not to get on a good sleep schedule. Right now it's 11:30, its completely feasible to go to bed in 30 minutes, but no doubt I will find something to keep me busy until 2, and then I will complain about how tired I am at 8am when Emily wakes me up. After breakfast I let her watch cartoons while I surf Facebook....there is usually nothing worthwhile to look at anyway, but I find myself addicted to looking at it anyway. I heard a good quote once, it said Facebook is like a fridge, even if you KNOW there is nothing new, you have to keep checking it every 5 minutes. I would really like to get to a point where I just look at it say twice a day. Once in the afternoon and once at night. Not sure I can do that though. Damn smartphone!'
Before I know it, it's 11am, I have accomplished nothing and I am getting sleepy, so I often take a nap when I put Emily down for a nap. Then I really get nothing done because when I wake up, she is now awake and I feel unproductive, lazy, and blah. Most days I just live in t shirts (maternity shirts at that) and yoga pants, and I know I would feel better if I got dressed, but I can't imagine running around the house, getting all sweaty and yucky doing housework, wearing decent clothes. Plus I try to go for a walk in the mornings, so why get dressed for real, only to change an hour or two later to go for a walk?
I wonder if I am depressed. I am not sure. I mean, my daughter keeps me happy, but my behavior, especially my love for sleeping, says otherwise. I think about Kayla and I miss her every day, but it's been 2.5 years. I am no longer at the point where my pain is raw and I just sit around in a deep depression every day about it. But, I suppose between losing her, missing my mom and grandparents, and being in a stay at home mom funk, I could be mildly depressed. Enough to keep me from getting my shit together and being productive each day.
I am on an anti-depressant, but maybe it's not enough. I saw my doctor a few weeks ago for BC, I had it on my list to ask about increasing my Zoloft, but something stopped me from bringing it up. Maybe because I think I am already on a high dosage (100mg, not sure if that's high or not) or if I am ashamed of it, or if I think I shouldn't be feeling depressed, I am not sure. But I read a tip on pinterest to divide your daily chores up into blocks of time. I do have a list of things I need to do each day, but I have no real order in which I do them. I just kind of do them as they come to me, so maybe setting more structure to my day will help. So I made up a list for tomorrow. After breakfast, Emily can watch cartoons and I can browse Facebook for 30 minutes. Then I have to put in a load of laundry, scoop the litter boxes and get dressed.
Then we'll go for a walk. After that I will do dishes, clean the bathroom and switch the laundry to the dryer. From 12-1 I give Emily her lunch and put her down for a nap, and then from 1- 2 I'll eat my lunch and take a break. Then I will dust the furniture and pay bills, and then put the laundry away. I'll empty the dishwasher and take another 30 minutes break, and then I'll take the dog for a walk. This has me finishing at 5, which is a standard work day. Then of course I'll have to figure out what to do about dinner, feed Emily and put her to bed, but those last few hours of the evening can be spent relaxing with her, and hopefully feeling a sense of accomplishment for getting everything done.
I am excited to try it out. So now I am off to take some melatonin, and read in bed and hopefully get to sleep by a decent time tonight.
Capture your grief-Day 5, Empathy
So often in the community of bereaved parents we talk about all of the things that friends and family should not say to us. There are countless articles of things never to say to bereaved parents but not as many about things to actually say. If we want to break the silence around baby and child loss we need to communicate our needs of what people can say or do to help. We must educate society on what real empathy is. What does empathy look like for you? What do you wish people would have said to you? How could they have helped you better?
We were lucky in that most of our friends and family were amazing with their words or actions. The words that stung were mostly from people who weren't as close. A lot of times people say let me know if there is anything I can do. But for many people like myself, I find it hard to lean on people, and bark out orders. Also, in a time like this, we don't even know what we need done, so it's hard to tell other people.
Our friends and family chose specific things to ask if we needed them done, or just told us they were going to do it. My aunt called my boss to tell him what happened, my best friend rescheduled my dentist appointment, and also called the store where we were registered to have our registry hidden. My dad told family members so we wouldn't have to. Our friend went to our house and put all the baby stuff we had accumulated into the unfinished nursery and closed the door so we wouldn't have to see it. My dad called the funeral home and let us know what our options were, then called them back to make arrangements.
My inlaws went to our house to pick up some stuff for us while we were in the hospital. Once we were home they grocery shopped for us, other people sent meals over. A few friends sent flowers. We could barely function so all of these things were a Godsend, and there was no way we could have made any of those phone calls without breaking down in tears. We wanted to have the funeral luncheon at our house, we just wanted to be in our own home. We were so easily exhausted that week, we just wanted to be able to crash as soon as people left. Our house was a mess and in no shape for company, so our inlaws came over, sent us to the movies and cleaned our house.
As far as things they said to us, keep it simple. I am sorry for your loss. I'm so sad. My heart breaks for you. They called Kayla by name and they called her our daughter. They acknowledged us as parents (which is important if the lost baby/child was your only/first one). They cried with us. They knew it was ok to talk about other things as well, and help make us laugh. They weren't afraid to bring her up, thinking it would only remind us of our pain. Trust me when I say, we never forget. Sometimes people don't know what to say, and that's alright too. Telling someone you don't know what to say tells the bereaved that you aren't pretending to know their pain, but you still care.
If we wanted to talk about Kayla, they let us. We know it's a difficult topic, but they didn't let their own discomfort keep us from talking about our baby. A week or so after, a grief counselor called me from the hospital. She was wonderful to talk to. Sometimes as a mother of a baby that died before she got a chance to live, it's hard to not feel like others' judge our pain. Thinking we shouldn't be allowed to grieve since we "didn't know them". But she made my loss feel important and I could genuinely tell that she grieved for us. I also told her about our early loss the year before, and she gasped, and said how I have been through so much. She validated my pain.
Best of all, our friends and family recognized my husband's pain too. We both lost our daughter, but so many focus on just the woman. I carried her, I gave birth to her, but in many ways I feel like my husband carried the biggest burden. Not only was he grieving our loss, he was also worried about me, and had to be strong for me. It is not as acceptable for a man to break down in tears. He had to put on the brave face and be strong for both of us.
We also appreciate people who remember our daughter and remember our pain long after it initially happens. Wishing us a peaceful mother's day/father's day that first year, acknowledging the following year, once our rainbow has arrived, that it is not our first mothers'/fathers' day, remembering our daughter on her birth/death day, visiting her grave and leaving flowers, counting her as a member of the family (my inlaws say they have 8 grandchildren, not 7). Being a bereaved parent can be very lonely, so the best thing friends and family can do is let them know they are not alone.
We were lucky in that most of our friends and family were amazing with their words or actions. The words that stung were mostly from people who weren't as close. A lot of times people say let me know if there is anything I can do. But for many people like myself, I find it hard to lean on people, and bark out orders. Also, in a time like this, we don't even know what we need done, so it's hard to tell other people.
Our friends and family chose specific things to ask if we needed them done, or just told us they were going to do it. My aunt called my boss to tell him what happened, my best friend rescheduled my dentist appointment, and also called the store where we were registered to have our registry hidden. My dad told family members so we wouldn't have to. Our friend went to our house and put all the baby stuff we had accumulated into the unfinished nursery and closed the door so we wouldn't have to see it. My dad called the funeral home and let us know what our options were, then called them back to make arrangements.
My inlaws went to our house to pick up some stuff for us while we were in the hospital. Once we were home they grocery shopped for us, other people sent meals over. A few friends sent flowers. We could barely function so all of these things were a Godsend, and there was no way we could have made any of those phone calls without breaking down in tears. We wanted to have the funeral luncheon at our house, we just wanted to be in our own home. We were so easily exhausted that week, we just wanted to be able to crash as soon as people left. Our house was a mess and in no shape for company, so our inlaws came over, sent us to the movies and cleaned our house.
As far as things they said to us, keep it simple. I am sorry for your loss. I'm so sad. My heart breaks for you. They called Kayla by name and they called her our daughter. They acknowledged us as parents (which is important if the lost baby/child was your only/first one). They cried with us. They knew it was ok to talk about other things as well, and help make us laugh. They weren't afraid to bring her up, thinking it would only remind us of our pain. Trust me when I say, we never forget. Sometimes people don't know what to say, and that's alright too. Telling someone you don't know what to say tells the bereaved that you aren't pretending to know their pain, but you still care.
If we wanted to talk about Kayla, they let us. We know it's a difficult topic, but they didn't let their own discomfort keep us from talking about our baby. A week or so after, a grief counselor called me from the hospital. She was wonderful to talk to. Sometimes as a mother of a baby that died before she got a chance to live, it's hard to not feel like others' judge our pain. Thinking we shouldn't be allowed to grieve since we "didn't know them". But she made my loss feel important and I could genuinely tell that she grieved for us. I also told her about our early loss the year before, and she gasped, and said how I have been through so much. She validated my pain.
Best of all, our friends and family recognized my husband's pain too. We both lost our daughter, but so many focus on just the woman. I carried her, I gave birth to her, but in many ways I feel like my husband carried the biggest burden. Not only was he grieving our loss, he was also worried about me, and had to be strong for me. It is not as acceptable for a man to break down in tears. He had to put on the brave face and be strong for both of us.
We also appreciate people who remember our daughter and remember our pain long after it initially happens. Wishing us a peaceful mother's day/father's day that first year, acknowledging the following year, once our rainbow has arrived, that it is not our first mothers'/fathers' day, remembering our daughter on her birth/death day, visiting her grave and leaving flowers, counting her as a member of the family (my inlaws say they have 8 grandchildren, not 7). Being a bereaved parent can be very lonely, so the best thing friends and family can do is let them know they are not alone.
Sunday, October 4, 2015
Capture your grief- Day 4, Dark and Light
Today we are acknowledging the dark and light sides of grief. The ugly and the beauty. The bitter and the sweet. The anger and the peace. You might want to write about the moments when everything falls apart or maybe the moments where our eyes were opened to the gifts that this journey had in store for us. Maybe you just want to write about both.
Aside from the first few days after our loss, one of the worst days I had was about three weeks after. Sleep was having trouble finding me. When I closed my eyes to sleep, I would just replay the entire thing in my head over and over. One night I had a lot of trouble falling asleep, so I ended up staying up the whole night. The next morning my husband had a 5K he was running, so I went with him. The last 5K he had done was when I was still pregnant, so I was having troubles going, being there, knowing that I was pregnant then, and now I was not. My husband and his friends all ran that race in honor of Kayla, they all wore bracelets with her name on it.
Between not getting any sleep, and being extra emotional that day, it was not a good day at all. When the race was over, we went home and I took a nap. I woke up feeling even worse than before. I was indecisive, nothing sounded appealing. It was my brother's birthday, so my family was going out to eat to celebrate. I wanted to go, but it was also the last thing in the world I wanted to do. My dad called to see if I was going, and the second I heard his voice I burst into tears.
It was truly one of the worst days in my journey. I was no stranger to grief. One of my friends in the first grade was hit by a car and killed, my mom had died several years prior, I had lost both of my grandparents whom I adored the previous summer just weeks apart. I felt armed with knowledge, knowing that I had gotten through those things, I could get through this. I knew it wouldn't always hurt that bad. But that day, my heart just wasn't getting the message. I felt like I was at rock bottom. I couldn't see a way out, all I saw was darkness and I couldn't figure out how I was ever going to feel better. How on earth was the pain ever going to go away? I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Despite knowing it, I couldn't convince myself that day that the pain would ever subside.
The other dark part that I struggled with so much, and still do to this day was the senselessness of it all. The anatomy scan revealed that our baby girl was perfectly healthy, the tests done on my placenta didn't show any reasons for my pre-term labor aside from the fact that my cervix dilated too soon. My sweet baby was healthy, there was nothing wrong with her. She could have been born in July, she could be here on this earth right now, she could be a happy, healthy, giggling 2.5 year old right now, but my body couldn't keep her safe until then.
It is bad enough to feel the grief of your child dying, but even worse to know it was your fault. I know there was nothing I could have done, I didn't chose it and I didn't want it to happen, but it was my body that failed to keep her safe, and that has been one of the absolute hardest parts to deal with.
The light sides of grief.....I'm going to have to think about that one. I am not sure I am convinced there are lights sides of grief. I mean, of course there is my rainbow Emily. But had Kayla been born, we would have never known Emily and we would have been perfectly happy with Kayla. So I would guess I would have to say the light side of grief is the love and support we got from friends and family. Knowing how much we were loved, how much our baby was loved, and how many people weren't just sad for us, but grieving with us. My inlaws, my stepmom, my best friend, they all came. They didn't ask if they should, they didn't wait to be invited, they just came to hold our hands.
They asked what specific things could be done. Phone calls to make, arrangements to be made, errands to run, they just showed up and did it. I can never thank them all enough for being there for us, but I also know I don't have to. They were all there in a heartbeat. They let us know we were not alone, and they grieved with us. There is no greater gift than people loving and remembering my daughter.
Getting back to be thankful for Emily....I would be thankful for her no matter what, and of course she doesn't erase the pain of losing Kayla. But a light side of grief is when you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and for the first time you know it is going to be ok. The grief is still there, the pain is still there, but it doesn't consume you anymore. Your desire to love again is greater than your fear of losing that love. There is a quote that I love about grief, it is from the show Six Feet Under. A bereaved granddaughter asked, "why do people have to die". The funeral director thought for a moment and answered, "To make life important".
Aside from the first few days after our loss, one of the worst days I had was about three weeks after. Sleep was having trouble finding me. When I closed my eyes to sleep, I would just replay the entire thing in my head over and over. One night I had a lot of trouble falling asleep, so I ended up staying up the whole night. The next morning my husband had a 5K he was running, so I went with him. The last 5K he had done was when I was still pregnant, so I was having troubles going, being there, knowing that I was pregnant then, and now I was not. My husband and his friends all ran that race in honor of Kayla, they all wore bracelets with her name on it.
Between not getting any sleep, and being extra emotional that day, it was not a good day at all. When the race was over, we went home and I took a nap. I woke up feeling even worse than before. I was indecisive, nothing sounded appealing. It was my brother's birthday, so my family was going out to eat to celebrate. I wanted to go, but it was also the last thing in the world I wanted to do. My dad called to see if I was going, and the second I heard his voice I burst into tears.
It was truly one of the worst days in my journey. I was no stranger to grief. One of my friends in the first grade was hit by a car and killed, my mom had died several years prior, I had lost both of my grandparents whom I adored the previous summer just weeks apart. I felt armed with knowledge, knowing that I had gotten through those things, I could get through this. I knew it wouldn't always hurt that bad. But that day, my heart just wasn't getting the message. I felt like I was at rock bottom. I couldn't see a way out, all I saw was darkness and I couldn't figure out how I was ever going to feel better. How on earth was the pain ever going to go away? I couldn't see it. I couldn't see the light at the end of the tunnel. Despite knowing it, I couldn't convince myself that day that the pain would ever subside.
The other dark part that I struggled with so much, and still do to this day was the senselessness of it all. The anatomy scan revealed that our baby girl was perfectly healthy, the tests done on my placenta didn't show any reasons for my pre-term labor aside from the fact that my cervix dilated too soon. My sweet baby was healthy, there was nothing wrong with her. She could have been born in July, she could be here on this earth right now, she could be a happy, healthy, giggling 2.5 year old right now, but my body couldn't keep her safe until then.
It is bad enough to feel the grief of your child dying, but even worse to know it was your fault. I know there was nothing I could have done, I didn't chose it and I didn't want it to happen, but it was my body that failed to keep her safe, and that has been one of the absolute hardest parts to deal with.
The light sides of grief.....I'm going to have to think about that one. I am not sure I am convinced there are lights sides of grief. I mean, of course there is my rainbow Emily. But had Kayla been born, we would have never known Emily and we would have been perfectly happy with Kayla. So I would guess I would have to say the light side of grief is the love and support we got from friends and family. Knowing how much we were loved, how much our baby was loved, and how many people weren't just sad for us, but grieving with us. My inlaws, my stepmom, my best friend, they all came. They didn't ask if they should, they didn't wait to be invited, they just came to hold our hands.
They asked what specific things could be done. Phone calls to make, arrangements to be made, errands to run, they just showed up and did it. I can never thank them all enough for being there for us, but I also know I don't have to. They were all there in a heartbeat. They let us know we were not alone, and they grieved with us. There is no greater gift than people loving and remembering my daughter.
Getting back to be thankful for Emily....I would be thankful for her no matter what, and of course she doesn't erase the pain of losing Kayla. But a light side of grief is when you can see the light at the end of the tunnel, and for the first time you know it is going to be ok. The grief is still there, the pain is still there, but it doesn't consume you anymore. Your desire to love again is greater than your fear of losing that love. There is a quote that I love about grief, it is from the show Six Feet Under. A bereaved granddaughter asked, "why do people have to die". The funeral director thought for a moment and answered, "To make life important".
Capture your grief- Day 3, In Honor
I am doing this project in honor of my daughter Kayla. I got pregnant with her after a long road of infertility and an early miscarriage. I was so happy when that test finally showed two pink lines. We had a great time telling family and friends, everyone was so excited for us. I was nervous of course after my first loss, but as we got further into second tri, I got much more confident. I had a few spotting episodes in first tri, but other than that I had a complication free pregnancy.
The day finally came to see our sweet baby again, make sure everything was ok and find out the sex. After checking a few things, our ultrasound tech told us it was a girl baby. I was over the moon. A little boy would have been great too, but I admit, I was so thrilled to be having a little girl. Ryan and I instantly knew that we would name her Kayla. He told me on our second date that if he ever had a little girl, he wanted to name her that. For the next six years, we would refer to our future child as Kayla, and it stuck.
Her middle name would be Kathryn after my mom who passed away 9 years prior. Ryan and I went to a bakery and had cupcakes made with pink frosting in the middle. Actually, we had some made with blue as well, because to place the order once we knew the sex would mean delaying telling family for another week, so we placed the order in advance and just got some of both. Extra cupcakes aren't a bad thing right? So we drove around to our family the next night, sharing the cupcakes and getting to see their reaction to seeing the pink frosting. Everyone was so excited for us.
By then I was feeling Kayla a lot. She kicked a lot, letting me know she was there. During the anatomy scan she was sucking her thumb and the tech got a great shot of it. I was so excited to meet my little girl. The night I went into labor, just a month later, I thought for sure the doctors could stop my contractions and everything would be ok. But just twelve hours later we met our daughter for the first time, and prepared to say goodbye to her.
She was absolutely beautiful. She was so tiny, just one pound, 1.6 ounces and 11.5 inches long. I just stared at her, marveling at how perfect and miniature her features were. Her little fingernails, her ears, her tiny nose, everything looked just like a full term baby, but on a super small scale. She was born on March 24th, 2013, and her due date was July 26th. She was just 22 weeks 2 days gestation. Her eyes were closed and she had this perfect little nose, pouty mouth and little chin. Our rainbow baby, Kayla's little sister has that same nose, mouth, and chin. She looked so peaceful. I loved to hold her. I would so thankful she didn't suffer and was born sleeping, but what I wouldn't have given to hear her cry just once. To hear her tiny little voice.
I couldn't believe she was gone. I still can't. I knew my girl so briefly, and held her for just a few hours. But she'll live on in my heart forever. I know she watches over us each day, and not a single day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her. I will always always wonder who Kayla would have been.
The day finally came to see our sweet baby again, make sure everything was ok and find out the sex. After checking a few things, our ultrasound tech told us it was a girl baby. I was over the moon. A little boy would have been great too, but I admit, I was so thrilled to be having a little girl. Ryan and I instantly knew that we would name her Kayla. He told me on our second date that if he ever had a little girl, he wanted to name her that. For the next six years, we would refer to our future child as Kayla, and it stuck.
Her middle name would be Kathryn after my mom who passed away 9 years prior. Ryan and I went to a bakery and had cupcakes made with pink frosting in the middle. Actually, we had some made with blue as well, because to place the order once we knew the sex would mean delaying telling family for another week, so we placed the order in advance and just got some of both. Extra cupcakes aren't a bad thing right? So we drove around to our family the next night, sharing the cupcakes and getting to see their reaction to seeing the pink frosting. Everyone was so excited for us.
By then I was feeling Kayla a lot. She kicked a lot, letting me know she was there. During the anatomy scan she was sucking her thumb and the tech got a great shot of it. I was so excited to meet my little girl. The night I went into labor, just a month later, I thought for sure the doctors could stop my contractions and everything would be ok. But just twelve hours later we met our daughter for the first time, and prepared to say goodbye to her.
She was absolutely beautiful. She was so tiny, just one pound, 1.6 ounces and 11.5 inches long. I just stared at her, marveling at how perfect and miniature her features were. Her little fingernails, her ears, her tiny nose, everything looked just like a full term baby, but on a super small scale. She was born on March 24th, 2013, and her due date was July 26th. She was just 22 weeks 2 days gestation. Her eyes were closed and she had this perfect little nose, pouty mouth and little chin. Our rainbow baby, Kayla's little sister has that same nose, mouth, and chin. She looked so peaceful. I loved to hold her. I would so thankful she didn't suffer and was born sleeping, but what I wouldn't have given to hear her cry just once. To hear her tiny little voice.
I couldn't believe she was gone. I still can't. I knew my girl so briefly, and held her for just a few hours. But she'll live on in my heart forever. I know she watches over us each day, and not a single day goes by that I don't think of her and miss her. I will always always wonder who Kayla would have been.
Thursday, October 1, 2015
Capture your grief-Day 2, Intention
I have to write this one a little early. It is October 2nd, but it is 1:35am. We are heading out of town tomorrow and I will be pretty busy packing and running errands before then.
Set yourself a new intention to inspire your next path in grief and healing. It might be to live your life with more kindness or maybe you might intend to live your life more wholeheartedly in honor of your children. Spend some time with this one, go and get some fresh air. What is it that you want out of this project? Whatever your new intention is, write it down with the words "I intend to ______in honor or my precious child/ren _______".
I intend to not let my daughter's death be in vain, in honor of my precious children Kayla and Emily (and bugaboo, our first loss. I just pulled that name out of my butt, we don't call him anything, it was so early, we didn't know the sex. In my heart he was a boy, but it feels wrong to me to give him a real name. I guess to put him in the same category as Kayla, as he was gone almost as quick as we knew he was there. Ok wow, that was like the longest in parenthesis ever).
There are very few advantages to being a loss mom. In fact I would say there are none, apart for one. For every tear that has fallen, for every time we thought our hearts were going to break, for every time we just could not believe this was happening (or happening again), we are that much more aware and thankful for our living children. Parenthood is hectic and stressful, our kids misbehave. It's so easy to get caught up in the daily grind, to give in to your frustrations and forget how goddamn lucky you are to have your living child.
I hear it all the time, parents complaining about their kids, parents saying ugh, do you want them? I'll give them away. I know those parents love their children, and I know they cannot bear to think about losing them. But when you've never lost one, you cannot appreciate them to the nth degree that a loss parent can, and for that I feel grateful. I am grateful that I know, every day how lucky I am. It may not be all day every day, but I feel grateful for my daughter ever single day. Of course there are days when I get caught up in life, or times when I look back on a picture when she was a newborn and think, where did the time go? What happened to my tiny baby? She doesn't even look like a baby anymore, but a little girl. But I know that despite the time moving quickly, I know I cherished each and every one of those days.
When she was really little, we napped together every day. I sometimes felt guilty about it, my husband was off at his "real job" (I had a very easy baby, I often felt guilty as a SAHM) while I was here, snoozing on the couch with my baby. But I told myself, she is only this little once. Some day she won't want to nap with me anymore (that day came all too quickly around 10 months) and the housework will still be there tomorrow. I am grateful that I snap way too many pictures of her each day. I am grateful that I made the decision to quit my job to stay home with her. Yes, it was an adjustment as we were accustomed to two incomes, but buying clothes or having a newer car or eating out more often; it's not even a question when it comes to, is it worth it? I have never, nor will I ever regret quitting my job to be with her.
I am grateful that Emily looks like her sister. Despite still being curious, I at least have a pretty good idea of what she would have looked like at this age. We are still undecided about having another baby, but I am mostly leaning toward no. One of those reasons is, we hoped and prayed and pleaded for Emily, we fought with every emotion we had in us, we worried every day of my pregnancy and somehow we all made it through. Had I not gone through what I did, had we not lost Kayla, I can pretty much say for certain we would have wanted another child. I am scared of another loss, or more complications.
But one of the most glaring reasons is, I'm happy. I'm content. Our memory of Kayla, and Emily is enough. Not that parents who haven't had a loss think their first child wasn't enough, but when you come so close to having nothing, you see how amazing it is to have something. If we hadn't gone through this, I think I would be more likely to have another just because that is what most people do. I feel like not only do I appreciate Emily more because of Kayla, but I can have a deeper, more satisfactory relationship with her as an only child. The thought of having two children, being twice as busy, twice as tired, dealing with a newborn while a jealous toddler acts up, sleepless nights (because if the first baby is amazing, the next one won't be) just makes me feel sad. I feel like I would just be going through the motions, but not really enjoying it.
With just Emily to tend to, I am less stressed, I have time to play with her, the house isn't a crazy zoo with children running around every where. I don't know if I am explaining this right, but at this point in my grieving, I feel content. I do have two children, but I only parent one. My heart is big enough to love them both, but I can truly enjoy my time with Emily, I think more than I could if we had two living children. I think maybe I have always been more of an "only child kind of parent", but never knew it until faced with loss. Perhaps without the loss, I wouldn't have seen that having just one is ok, in a world where you're crazy or there is something wrong with you if you only want one.
Of course I would never say everything turned out for the best. If I could have both my girls here with me on earth I would in a heartbeat. And who knows, maybe if we did have another child, I would be just as happy, if not more happy. I guess the bottom line is, losing Kayla taught me to appreciate the now, to appreciate what I have, instead of always looking toward something more and being so busy striving for the next thing, that you don't know what you already have. Which I think is important in a world where we are constantly pushing ourselves to be faster, better, to have more, to want more.
So for my picture for today, here is a picture of my two beautiful girls. Kayla who is always watching over me, and cheering me on, and Emily who keeps me going each day.
Set yourself a new intention to inspire your next path in grief and healing. It might be to live your life with more kindness or maybe you might intend to live your life more wholeheartedly in honor of your children. Spend some time with this one, go and get some fresh air. What is it that you want out of this project? Whatever your new intention is, write it down with the words "I intend to ______in honor or my precious child/ren _______".
I intend to not let my daughter's death be in vain, in honor of my precious children Kayla and Emily (and bugaboo, our first loss. I just pulled that name out of my butt, we don't call him anything, it was so early, we didn't know the sex. In my heart he was a boy, but it feels wrong to me to give him a real name. I guess to put him in the same category as Kayla, as he was gone almost as quick as we knew he was there. Ok wow, that was like the longest in parenthesis ever).
There are very few advantages to being a loss mom. In fact I would say there are none, apart for one. For every tear that has fallen, for every time we thought our hearts were going to break, for every time we just could not believe this was happening (or happening again), we are that much more aware and thankful for our living children. Parenthood is hectic and stressful, our kids misbehave. It's so easy to get caught up in the daily grind, to give in to your frustrations and forget how goddamn lucky you are to have your living child.
I hear it all the time, parents complaining about their kids, parents saying ugh, do you want them? I'll give them away. I know those parents love their children, and I know they cannot bear to think about losing them. But when you've never lost one, you cannot appreciate them to the nth degree that a loss parent can, and for that I feel grateful. I am grateful that I know, every day how lucky I am. It may not be all day every day, but I feel grateful for my daughter ever single day. Of course there are days when I get caught up in life, or times when I look back on a picture when she was a newborn and think, where did the time go? What happened to my tiny baby? She doesn't even look like a baby anymore, but a little girl. But I know that despite the time moving quickly, I know I cherished each and every one of those days.
When she was really little, we napped together every day. I sometimes felt guilty about it, my husband was off at his "real job" (I had a very easy baby, I often felt guilty as a SAHM) while I was here, snoozing on the couch with my baby. But I told myself, she is only this little once. Some day she won't want to nap with me anymore (that day came all too quickly around 10 months) and the housework will still be there tomorrow. I am grateful that I snap way too many pictures of her each day. I am grateful that I made the decision to quit my job to stay home with her. Yes, it was an adjustment as we were accustomed to two incomes, but buying clothes or having a newer car or eating out more often; it's not even a question when it comes to, is it worth it? I have never, nor will I ever regret quitting my job to be with her.
I am grateful that Emily looks like her sister. Despite still being curious, I at least have a pretty good idea of what she would have looked like at this age. We are still undecided about having another baby, but I am mostly leaning toward no. One of those reasons is, we hoped and prayed and pleaded for Emily, we fought with every emotion we had in us, we worried every day of my pregnancy and somehow we all made it through. Had I not gone through what I did, had we not lost Kayla, I can pretty much say for certain we would have wanted another child. I am scared of another loss, or more complications.
But one of the most glaring reasons is, I'm happy. I'm content. Our memory of Kayla, and Emily is enough. Not that parents who haven't had a loss think their first child wasn't enough, but when you come so close to having nothing, you see how amazing it is to have something. If we hadn't gone through this, I think I would be more likely to have another just because that is what most people do. I feel like not only do I appreciate Emily more because of Kayla, but I can have a deeper, more satisfactory relationship with her as an only child. The thought of having two children, being twice as busy, twice as tired, dealing with a newborn while a jealous toddler acts up, sleepless nights (because if the first baby is amazing, the next one won't be) just makes me feel sad. I feel like I would just be going through the motions, but not really enjoying it.
With just Emily to tend to, I am less stressed, I have time to play with her, the house isn't a crazy zoo with children running around every where. I don't know if I am explaining this right, but at this point in my grieving, I feel content. I do have two children, but I only parent one. My heart is big enough to love them both, but I can truly enjoy my time with Emily, I think more than I could if we had two living children. I think maybe I have always been more of an "only child kind of parent", but never knew it until faced with loss. Perhaps without the loss, I wouldn't have seen that having just one is ok, in a world where you're crazy or there is something wrong with you if you only want one.
Of course I would never say everything turned out for the best. If I could have both my girls here with me on earth I would in a heartbeat. And who knows, maybe if we did have another child, I would be just as happy, if not more happy. I guess the bottom line is, losing Kayla taught me to appreciate the now, to appreciate what I have, instead of always looking toward something more and being so busy striving for the next thing, that you don't know what you already have. Which I think is important in a world where we are constantly pushing ourselves to be faster, better, to have more, to want more.
So for my picture for today, here is a picture of my two beautiful girls. Kayla who is always watching over me, and cheering me on, and Emily who keeps me going each day.
Capture your grief, Day 1, Sunrise
This year I am once again participating in the Carly Marie Healing Project, 31 days of healing. For those of you that don't know, October and more specifically October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. So for each day of this month, I will be posting photos and blog entries corresponding with the theme for each day, to further heal, and remember my daughter Kayla. To read more about the project, go here http://carlymarieprojectheal.com/capture-your-grief-2015.
So Day 1 is to watch the sunrise and post a picture. I admit, I cheated a little. I had good intentions to get up an hour earlier than I usually do to watch the sunrise and reflect. But Emily woke me up at 5:15 this morning, soaking wet. So after changing her, snuggling her and stripping her sheets, I crawled back into bed and was not aware of anything until my husband came home and woke me up.
That being said, seeing as how I am not a morning person, I enlisted a back up. My husband works midnight's, and is therefore bright eyed and bushy tailed (not really, but he is awake) for the sunrise, so he so kindly took this picture for me. Plus, he is my partner in grief, he is the only other person on this earth that knows exactly what I feel for Kayla, so I thought it fitting (and my rationale that I am not cheating) that he participate as well by watching the sunrise.
So here it is, from Ann Arbor, Mi at 7:31am.
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So as I said, Miss Em woke me up, wailing this morning because she was no doubt cold and miserable. Since it is finally starting to act like fall around here, our house has been a chilly 65 degrees in the morning, probably even colder at that time of morning. It took me a few minutes to realize through my sleepy fog that this was a distress cry and that it was very early, unlike her 8am cries telling me it is time to get up.
Emily doesn't too often wake me in the middle of the night, so when she does I know she is either wet, poopy, had a nightmare or something of the sort. I assumed she was wet because I didn't put an overnight diaper on her last night when we got home from Nana and Papa's. I knew better, but she actually fell back to sleep on my shoulder when I got her out of her car seat. That almost never happens, so I wanted to take advantage of being able to put her right to bed. I hoped that just maybe she hadn't drank enough to soak through the diaper she had on, but no such luck.
If I had to choose one thing I remember most about my mom, it would be how comforting she was. My dad and I give each other a hard time, we make fun of each other, we take shots at each other, and he always kicked my butt to be a stronger, more successful person. I needed it, I owe 90% of who I am today to him. But just as important was my mom's warm, comforting nature. She was the one I could go to after a bad day, to tell me what I wanted to hear, for a hug that just made you feel good from your nose to your toes. She was the one that scared the boogeymen away and comforted me when I cried, instead of telling me to suck it up.
I hope to have both of those traits in me to give to my daughter, both the comfort when she needs it, and the ass kicking when she needs it. So this morning when I went in and she was crying her eyes out, she instantly stopped when I came in and quickly and desperately got up and held her arms out to me, I was more than happy to snuggle her and make her comfy once again. I got her out of her wet diaper and jammies, cleaned her off with wipes, baby powdered her so she was instantly dry, and got a fresh pair of fleece jammies on her.
Then I gave her some snuggles, and stripped off the top wet layer of her sheets. I tucked her back in bed, gave her Kayla bear to snuggle, covered her with a blanket and got her another bottle. I stroked her hair, told her I loved her and cranked up the lullabye music on her lamb. I could just feel how warm and dry and comforted she must have felt right then. It brought back good memories of being comforted by my mother, and even better feelings of comforting my daughter. I crawled back into my warm bed and drifted back to sleep. I feel for parents who get woken up often in the middle of the night, but because it happens so rarely around here, I actually cherish those nights that my daughter's cries wake me up because she needs me. Knowing I took care of her and made her feel better, and then I am able to go back to sleep myself...it's pretty nice.
So Day 1 is to watch the sunrise and post a picture. I admit, I cheated a little. I had good intentions to get up an hour earlier than I usually do to watch the sunrise and reflect. But Emily woke me up at 5:15 this morning, soaking wet. So after changing her, snuggling her and stripping her sheets, I crawled back into bed and was not aware of anything until my husband came home and woke me up.
That being said, seeing as how I am not a morning person, I enlisted a back up. My husband works midnight's, and is therefore bright eyed and bushy tailed (not really, but he is awake) for the sunrise, so he so kindly took this picture for me. Plus, he is my partner in grief, he is the only other person on this earth that knows exactly what I feel for Kayla, so I thought it fitting (and my rationale that I am not cheating) that he participate as well by watching the sunrise.
So here it is, from Ann Arbor, Mi at 7:31am.
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So as I said, Miss Em woke me up, wailing this morning because she was no doubt cold and miserable. Since it is finally starting to act like fall around here, our house has been a chilly 65 degrees in the morning, probably even colder at that time of morning. It took me a few minutes to realize through my sleepy fog that this was a distress cry and that it was very early, unlike her 8am cries telling me it is time to get up.
Emily doesn't too often wake me in the middle of the night, so when she does I know she is either wet, poopy, had a nightmare or something of the sort. I assumed she was wet because I didn't put an overnight diaper on her last night when we got home from Nana and Papa's. I knew better, but she actually fell back to sleep on my shoulder when I got her out of her car seat. That almost never happens, so I wanted to take advantage of being able to put her right to bed. I hoped that just maybe she hadn't drank enough to soak through the diaper she had on, but no such luck.
If I had to choose one thing I remember most about my mom, it would be how comforting she was. My dad and I give each other a hard time, we make fun of each other, we take shots at each other, and he always kicked my butt to be a stronger, more successful person. I needed it, I owe 90% of who I am today to him. But just as important was my mom's warm, comforting nature. She was the one I could go to after a bad day, to tell me what I wanted to hear, for a hug that just made you feel good from your nose to your toes. She was the one that scared the boogeymen away and comforted me when I cried, instead of telling me to suck it up.
I hope to have both of those traits in me to give to my daughter, both the comfort when she needs it, and the ass kicking when she needs it. So this morning when I went in and she was crying her eyes out, she instantly stopped when I came in and quickly and desperately got up and held her arms out to me, I was more than happy to snuggle her and make her comfy once again. I got her out of her wet diaper and jammies, cleaned her off with wipes, baby powdered her so she was instantly dry, and got a fresh pair of fleece jammies on her.
Then I gave her some snuggles, and stripped off the top wet layer of her sheets. I tucked her back in bed, gave her Kayla bear to snuggle, covered her with a blanket and got her another bottle. I stroked her hair, told her I loved her and cranked up the lullabye music on her lamb. I could just feel how warm and dry and comforted she must have felt right then. It brought back good memories of being comforted by my mother, and even better feelings of comforting my daughter. I crawled back into my warm bed and drifted back to sleep. I feel for parents who get woken up often in the middle of the night, but because it happens so rarely around here, I actually cherish those nights that my daughter's cries wake me up because she needs me. Knowing I took care of her and made her feel better, and then I am able to go back to sleep myself...it's pretty nice.
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