This morning I got a phone call that nobody wants to get. Luckily for me and my family, it wasn't as bad as it could have been. My husband usually gets home from work at around 8am, and I think it was about a quarter till. All week I've been waking up before my alarm, so I was already up and browsing facebook when my MIL called. I instantly froze because she never calls this early, so I knew something must be wrong. For whatever reason I didn't answer. I guess because I didn't want to give in to the voice in my head saying something was wrong.
I was hoping she would leave a voicemail, saying something like sorry to call so early, just wanted to tell you, such and such. But a few seconds after it stopped ringing, she called again. Now I knew it was bad, so I answered. My husband was in a car accident, and his phone was damaged and like many, he doesn't know anybody's number. Luckily he remembered his parent's house phone, and luckily she is off on Wednesdays.
She said he was in an accident and she asked if she could come get him and he said no, I won't be here by then. He said he was ok, but that was all he really said. He had borrowed the paramedic's phone, so he couldn't talk long. She got the number off her caller ID so I called the number and got voicemail, but he called me a few minutes later. I was happy to talk to him, he said he was ok, but he sounded very weird, and everything he said was short and one word. He said they were taking him by ambulance to the hospital and for me to meet him there.
Of course I was thankful he sounded ok, and I got to talk to him instead of an EMT or a cop, but I was still worried. Thanks to watching too much Grey's Anatomy, I know someone who is alert and talking isn't always guaranteed a good outcome. My MIL usually takes Emily on Wednesdays, but wasn't going to today because she was going with my FIL to a doctor's appointment that was expected to take a while, but of course she offered to take her anyway so I didn't have to take her to the hospital with me.
So I got myself ready and then got Emmy up and dressed. I was ready to go when my MIL got there, so I took Em out to her car and....no car seat. My FIL takes it out for some reason when they're not using it. Which I don't get why, it's not that they often have passengers and need the seat, and even if they do give someone a ride, it's a 7 passenger vehicle, I think they'll be ok with one seat out of commission. So anyway, I was going to get my seat out and put it in hers but I knew that would be a pain and I was already stressed and anxious and trying to deal with getting the seat unhooked was probably not a good idea. So we just traded cars. Luckily they have the Buick version of our Traverse, so at least I didn't have to drive an unfamiliar car while anxious and worried.
The hospital wasn't far, and Ryan text me on the way, so that made me feel better. When I got there a very nice front desk lady looked up his info and took me back and pointed out what room he was in. It sounds corny, but when you're already freaking out, I was very thankful for a nice person when I walked in the door who was very helpful. So he was ok, he had a lot of dried blood on his face, and a cut on his head that was bleeding pretty steadily. The truck is totaled, and he's so sad about that. He loves that truck, and he just put a lot of money into it to get it how he wanted it. But I am so thankful he wasn't more hurt.
We opted to do a CT scan since his head was hurting and it came back clear. He got a shot for the pain and an rx for some pain meds, and they had to close his head cut. They tried gluing it at first but every time he moved his head at all or facial muscles it opened back up and started to bleed again. So once they got all the glue cleaned off, they stitched it instead...four stitches. I think I got there around 9:30 and we finally got discharged at 1:30. Neither of us had eaten anything so we went to the cafeteria to get some lunch while his prescriptions were being filled. Once we got home he got some much needed sleep. He's still feeling ok now, but I think tomorrow he will be very sore.
I don't spend a lot of time in ERs, I've went to the ER twice but was only there long enough for them to swoop me up to Ob triage when I was pregnant, and a few times I've been to another ER for my back, and once for norovirus and dehydration, also while pregnant. But those times, the ER was always pretty quiet. But today, we could hear several people groaning and yelling in pain, and not long after we got there today, we heard the doctor call out someone's time of death. That really shook me, I've been thinking about it all day. I know it happens, probably many times a day in every hospital, but to hear it for yourself, to know that another person just a few rooms down just died and that their family member was going to get that phone call 4 days before Christmas.....it's just so sad, and I am so thankful that the phone call I got today turned out with a pretty happy ending.
He's sore, he's banged up, his beloved truck is gone, but he is still here. It could have been so much worse. He wasn't wearing his seat belt, thank God for airbags. Thank God Emily wasn't with him. I'm so thankful that my dreaded morning turned out ok, but I am so sad for the family of that man or woman whose life ended today, and I am so aware of how easily that could have been our reality today.
Wednesday, December 21, 2016
Tuesday, December 20, 2016
Why do babies have to die?
I sat down at my computer tonight to work, and checked facebook first. The first post that I read, I skimmed the words "it is with heavy hearts" and I automatically knew what it was about. A friend of mine lost her baby. Another one. This is her second child to go to Heaven. She was about 15 weeks along. As if that's not horrible enough, tomorrow is the fourth anniversary of losing her first born, and of course Christmas is right around the corner.
It's so unfair. I don't know her that well. We went to high school together, I am not sure that we ever spoke back then, but she walked into the one and only evening of a support group I went to after we lost Kayla, and it was nice to see a familiar face. Since then we've been facebook friends. I like her children's pictures, relate to her posts about her son that she lost, and congratulated her on each pregnancy since. I cried for her tonight. Hearing of a pregnancy or child loss instantly resonates with me, and while no two people's pain is alike, I at least am familiar with the road they are about to embark on. So part of me cried for Kayla, as any loss is a painful reminder for me of my sweet angel. But I cried for her and the pain she is no doubt going through right now.
I had many reasons, but this was perhaps one of the biggest reasons I decided against having any more kids. I just could not go through any more heartbreak. Yes, I am missing out on the joy and love another baby would bring, but for me and where I am in my grief, the idea of the possible joy just wasn't worth the very scary and possibility of heartbreak. Emily was worth every second. I needed a child in my arms. I would have gone up against the worst odds to get her. But now that I have her, I'm done. I'm too fragile to go through that again. And this loss wasn't even related to why she lost her first son, which is the same issue I have and why I lost Kayla. Maybe I could have dealt with another pregnancy if incompetent cervix was the only thing I had to worry about....the cerclage held really well with Emily so hopefully it would have done its job again. But to know there are so many things that can go wrong, in addition to the way life already went wrong. It's maddening. I feel like any loss mom should get a free pass for any other bad thing. To be immune to anything else that can hurt you regarding your child.
Ryan and I went to see Collateral Beauty last weekend. It was good, but I did come out of the theater feeling a bit bummed. I wouldn't say the fear is paralyzing, but I definitely think about/worry about something happening to Emily every single day, and often several times a day. I am not sure how much of that is normal, every day fear that comes with the job of being a parent, and how much of it is because I've already experienced loss and I am terrified of it happening again, but this time with a little soul that I've had with me all these days, months, and years, and would absolutely die if anything happened to her. I feel like for the pain and suffering we've already been through, I wish we could get a "lifetime happiness card" guaranteeing that nothing else bad will happen concerning your children.
As I sat there, crying for her and her baby, and for myself and for Kayla, my phone was blowing up about someone's cat who is quite likely on her last few weeks of life. I get it, I love my cat, but I just couldn't right then. I couldn't hear about the trials and tribulations of a 16 year old cat who has lived a long and healthy life, that has been loved and well taken care of since she was a small kitten. I know people have a right to be sad about their dying pet, and others' worse pain doesn't negate their own, but in that moment I wanted to scream, I don't give a shit about your cat! So, obviously the anger stage is still alive and well, and not going anywhere any time soon.
Last week we took Kayla her Christmas tree, and put out a few decorations. I did ok, I didn't really cry, but I did tear up. It was bitter cold that night, and we had to clear away about a foot of snow off her grave. I hate to think that she's cold...and having to leave her in the cold, dark cemetery. I know that's stupid, it's just her body. But mothers will always worry about their babies, even in death.
Fly high baby Benjamin <3
It's so unfair. I don't know her that well. We went to high school together, I am not sure that we ever spoke back then, but she walked into the one and only evening of a support group I went to after we lost Kayla, and it was nice to see a familiar face. Since then we've been facebook friends. I like her children's pictures, relate to her posts about her son that she lost, and congratulated her on each pregnancy since. I cried for her tonight. Hearing of a pregnancy or child loss instantly resonates with me, and while no two people's pain is alike, I at least am familiar with the road they are about to embark on. So part of me cried for Kayla, as any loss is a painful reminder for me of my sweet angel. But I cried for her and the pain she is no doubt going through right now.
I had many reasons, but this was perhaps one of the biggest reasons I decided against having any more kids. I just could not go through any more heartbreak. Yes, I am missing out on the joy and love another baby would bring, but for me and where I am in my grief, the idea of the possible joy just wasn't worth the very scary and possibility of heartbreak. Emily was worth every second. I needed a child in my arms. I would have gone up against the worst odds to get her. But now that I have her, I'm done. I'm too fragile to go through that again. And this loss wasn't even related to why she lost her first son, which is the same issue I have and why I lost Kayla. Maybe I could have dealt with another pregnancy if incompetent cervix was the only thing I had to worry about....the cerclage held really well with Emily so hopefully it would have done its job again. But to know there are so many things that can go wrong, in addition to the way life already went wrong. It's maddening. I feel like any loss mom should get a free pass for any other bad thing. To be immune to anything else that can hurt you regarding your child.
Ryan and I went to see Collateral Beauty last weekend. It was good, but I did come out of the theater feeling a bit bummed. I wouldn't say the fear is paralyzing, but I definitely think about/worry about something happening to Emily every single day, and often several times a day. I am not sure how much of that is normal, every day fear that comes with the job of being a parent, and how much of it is because I've already experienced loss and I am terrified of it happening again, but this time with a little soul that I've had with me all these days, months, and years, and would absolutely die if anything happened to her. I feel like for the pain and suffering we've already been through, I wish we could get a "lifetime happiness card" guaranteeing that nothing else bad will happen concerning your children.
As I sat there, crying for her and her baby, and for myself and for Kayla, my phone was blowing up about someone's cat who is quite likely on her last few weeks of life. I get it, I love my cat, but I just couldn't right then. I couldn't hear about the trials and tribulations of a 16 year old cat who has lived a long and healthy life, that has been loved and well taken care of since she was a small kitten. I know people have a right to be sad about their dying pet, and others' worse pain doesn't negate their own, but in that moment I wanted to scream, I don't give a shit about your cat! So, obviously the anger stage is still alive and well, and not going anywhere any time soon.
Last week we took Kayla her Christmas tree, and put out a few decorations. I did ok, I didn't really cry, but I did tear up. It was bitter cold that night, and we had to clear away about a foot of snow off her grave. I hate to think that she's cold...and having to leave her in the cold, dark cemetery. I know that's stupid, it's just her body. But mothers will always worry about their babies, even in death.
Fly high baby Benjamin <3
Thursday, December 8, 2016
childhood memories
I spend a lot of time thinking about my parenting, and how my parents raised me. I often wonder if my mom watches over us, and is proud of the job I am doing as a mother. I don't know if most mothers feel this way, or if I do because I lost my mom when I was pretty young, but making lasting memories with Emily is so important to me, just in case one day I am not around for as much as her life as I should be.
Growing up, and still to this day, I was very close to my dad. We are very much alike, we agree on a lot of the same things, we have a similar personality and interests. Even as a young kid, my dad was just easier to be around. My mom expected a lot. She wanted me to be girly and frilly....maybe I wouldn't have wanted to be anyway, but I distinctly remember not wanting to be girly for the sheer reason that she tried so hard to make me that way. She was pretty hard on me...not in the punishment sense, I wasn't punished much at all as a kid, and really didn't even have a ton of responsibilities. But my mom put a lot of pressure on me. I was a good kid, I didn't get into much if any trouble at school, I got good, to very good grades, I had nice friends who weren't "bad influences", I didn't do drugs, or drink (much, we all experiment some), when I had sex for the first time it was something I thought long and hard about, resisted many instances of temptation so that my first time could be with someone I truly loved and was in a relationship with, and I even took the step of getting on birth control a few months before.
But none of that mattered to my mom. It didn't matter that I didn't drink or do drugs, my room was a mess, so I was a bad kid. Who cares that at 18, I got myself to the doctor and got myself on birth control, but I had sex before marriage, so bad bad bad. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mom, I still do and I miss her so much. But she set a very high bar for me that almost no kid could reach. But she did, so she expected me to. She was expected to reach that bar when she was young, and she apparently did, so no matter what I did, I would never be a great kid or a well-behaved kid or a responsible young lady because I didn't reach that bar.
My dad on the other hand, he just let me be. If I wanted to wear a dress, that's great. If I wanted to wear jeans and a tshirt, that's cool too. If I got a C in a class that I really struggled in, he was happy. If I skipped school, well, it was one time, no sense in making a mountain out of a molehill. I have no idea what he was thinking when my mom told him she "found" my birth control pills (scrunched up in a paper bag, at the bottom of my garbage can)....surely as a parent, no one is excited to hear this. After having two babies and married for 6 years, I am sure my dad would still happily like to believe that I am still a virgin. But he lived in the real world, he knew it was bound to happen, and at least I was in a committed relationship and I took steps to protect myself. There isn't much more a dad can hope for when it comes to their daughter having sex.
But, despite all that, when I was hurt, or sad, or didn't feel well, all I wanted in the world was my mommy. She had this amazing ability of making everything ok by just taking me in her arms and hugging me. I probably didn't paint a good picture of it above (my mom and I had a tumultuous relationship) but if I had to look back, especially during my childhood, and use one word to describe my mom, it would be nurturing. I want to be that for Emily. I want to be her safe haven, her comfy place, her place that she wants to be, no matter how old she is, when she just needs to be loved.
Although at the same time, I want to kick her ass and help her be the person I know she can be, which was my dad. It's funny because in some ways, he was so "whatever, that's not a big deal, kids will be kids" but at the same time, he pushed me to do things I was scared of, so I wasn't scared anymore. When he taught me how to drive, he used to push my leg down on the gas when I pulled out into traffic if I wasn't going fast enough. He would force me to try things I didn't want to do, at least once, no matter how much I cried and screamed and pleaded with him not to make me do it. He wanted me to try being an Acolyte at church. I was very shy, I wanted nothing to do with it, I begged and pleaded, he didn't move an inch. I tried it, and loved it. The summer I turned 16, he told me I had to get a job. I didn't want one, I was nervous, but he made me do it....I ended up loving my job, had a blast that summer, met a lot of great friends, and even met my first boyfriend there.
And then my mom, who was so hard on me with other things, was the one who would say it's ok, if you don't want to do that, you don't have to. I had a really stressful semester in college one year, and a lot of personal crap weighing on me too. I hated this one class, I wanted to drop it for no other reason than it was too much work and I was dreading the presentation we had to give at the end of the semester. My dad's advice....you have to take the class sometime, you've already put X amount of weeks in, might as well keep pushing through. My mom's advice....if you're that stressed out about it, maybe it's better to just drop it.
So I really hope that I can be all of those things for Emily. I mean, I don't want to set the bar so high that she is being set up to fail, but I want to be both the person she comes to for nurturing and comfort, and the person that doesn't let her get away with shit and push her to her potential. I have no idea if I am succeeding so far, but I think I am a pretty good balance of the two.
A lot of mornings, she watches cartoons and eats breakfast while I try to wake up, and browse facebook and timehop. Some days I am much more open to her "playing bubbles" (meaning, watch kids youtube vidoes) on my phone, because it means she sits on my lap while she watches. I just love having her warm little body close to mine, sitting and snuggling without a care in the world. I usually sit in the recliner, so my feet are hanging out right at about her waist level. When she plays or watches tv, she's often on the move, occasionally stopping to watch something....and she'll stand there and play with my feet. She'll either just stand there and hold my foot, or grab onto some toes. It sounds weird, and my husband thinks it is gross, but I just love it. I love that when she is near me, she has to be touching me and close to me in some way, even if it is just my stinky feet. I love it and I cherish it, because I know there will come a day when she no longer wants to be within an arm's length of me, and probably won't even want to talk to me or look at me. I hope we can defy the odds, I hope we can be the mother/daughter pair that can survive the tween/teenage years with our sanity mostly intact, especially because my mom and I did not. But even if we don't, I will cherish these moments, and at least have the memories of them when they stop.
With the holidays approaching, I am all about making memories and starting family traditions. My husband got a reciprocating saw last year, and has been using it quite a bit lately. One night he was out cutting some wood for a project, and it was starting to get dark out. It instantly brought me back to the nights when I was a kid, and as it was getting dark out, and my mom was in the kitchen making dinner, my dad would be outside working....either cutting things on his table saw, or using a chainsaw to cut up wood for the wood stove. Everyone always complains when time change happens and it gets dark out so early, but for me, when it's cold outside and your in the house, nice and warm, I love that it gets dark early. I guess it just brings back good memories for me.
We're embarking on our third annual outing for our Christmas tree tomorrow night. Since we've been together, we've done several different things. For a while we still used my artificial tree, once we decided to go real, some years we've had my dad bring one back for us from his tree farm up north, one year we went to a farm and cut one down, and one year Ryan brought one home from work, because one of the home improvement stores his boss had a contract with was giving away trees to employees since it was getting close to Christmas and they weren't selling as fast.
For at least the past 4 or 5 years we've been getting a tree from this farm that sets up a lot nearby. It's one of those old school lots with the string lights around the perimeter and the silver air stream camper parked on-site. I love it, brings back great memories of the tree lot my dad always took us to get our tree. For Emily's first Christmas, she was only 8 months old, so I just sat in the truck with her while Ryan picked one out, but last year we all walked the lot, picket out a tree and then went to dinner afterward. I decided to make that our yearly tradition, dinner and picking out the tree....and you have to go once it's dark so you can get the full affect of the lights strung up around the lot.
This year we have to add Emily's first hair cut to the festivities. She had an appointment a few days ago, but it was raining and yucky and cold, and well...when you're a work-at-home mom, you can do whatever the hell you want to do, and I didn't feel like going out in the rain that day. So I rescheduled for tomorrow. She's actually had several hair cuts by yours truly, and her Grammy. Her bangs grow like weeds, so we've had to keep up on those. But I do a terrible job, so assuming they don't cut them too short, I'll be excited for her to have evenly cut bangs for the first time ever. I'm also going to have them trim her hair overall a little. She has really long hair for a toddler, it's about to the middle of her back. But I've noticed the ends are really thin and scraggly, and she's almost 3 so I figured it was high time for her first official cut.
Her very first cut was actually when I cut off her rat tail around 8 months. She was born with a full head of hair, but for some reason had this little tail that grew so much faster than anything else. When I finally said screw the superstitions about cutting before one year, it was around 6 inches long when I cut it. But this will be her first official, at a salon, cut by a professional, hair cut. I'm so excited, I hope she does ok. But this place sounds great, it's especially for kids, they have a lot of games and videos, and the chairs are little cars that they can sit in while they get their hair cut. The website also boasted about how good the stylists are about working with the kids, and have even been known to walk around the salon while cutting hair, especially for special needs kids who have troubles sitting still for too long. Hopefully the experience will live up to what they claim. It's kind of funny, I booked the appointment for the baby's first hair cut package. I am not entirely sure what that entails, but I assume it lets them known it's her first cut so she'll be nervous, and probably includes a keepsake locke or something. But I feel kind of funny saying baby's first, and here will come in this walking, talking 2.5 year old. But, I think a lot of girls are much older than boys for their first hair cut. Wish us luck!
Growing up, and still to this day, I was very close to my dad. We are very much alike, we agree on a lot of the same things, we have a similar personality and interests. Even as a young kid, my dad was just easier to be around. My mom expected a lot. She wanted me to be girly and frilly....maybe I wouldn't have wanted to be anyway, but I distinctly remember not wanting to be girly for the sheer reason that she tried so hard to make me that way. She was pretty hard on me...not in the punishment sense, I wasn't punished much at all as a kid, and really didn't even have a ton of responsibilities. But my mom put a lot of pressure on me. I was a good kid, I didn't get into much if any trouble at school, I got good, to very good grades, I had nice friends who weren't "bad influences", I didn't do drugs, or drink (much, we all experiment some), when I had sex for the first time it was something I thought long and hard about, resisted many instances of temptation so that my first time could be with someone I truly loved and was in a relationship with, and I even took the step of getting on birth control a few months before.
But none of that mattered to my mom. It didn't matter that I didn't drink or do drugs, my room was a mess, so I was a bad kid. Who cares that at 18, I got myself to the doctor and got myself on birth control, but I had sex before marriage, so bad bad bad. Don't get me wrong, I loved my mom, I still do and I miss her so much. But she set a very high bar for me that almost no kid could reach. But she did, so she expected me to. She was expected to reach that bar when she was young, and she apparently did, so no matter what I did, I would never be a great kid or a well-behaved kid or a responsible young lady because I didn't reach that bar.
My dad on the other hand, he just let me be. If I wanted to wear a dress, that's great. If I wanted to wear jeans and a tshirt, that's cool too. If I got a C in a class that I really struggled in, he was happy. If I skipped school, well, it was one time, no sense in making a mountain out of a molehill. I have no idea what he was thinking when my mom told him she "found" my birth control pills (scrunched up in a paper bag, at the bottom of my garbage can)....surely as a parent, no one is excited to hear this. After having two babies and married for 6 years, I am sure my dad would still happily like to believe that I am still a virgin. But he lived in the real world, he knew it was bound to happen, and at least I was in a committed relationship and I took steps to protect myself. There isn't much more a dad can hope for when it comes to their daughter having sex.
But, despite all that, when I was hurt, or sad, or didn't feel well, all I wanted in the world was my mommy. She had this amazing ability of making everything ok by just taking me in her arms and hugging me. I probably didn't paint a good picture of it above (my mom and I had a tumultuous relationship) but if I had to look back, especially during my childhood, and use one word to describe my mom, it would be nurturing. I want to be that for Emily. I want to be her safe haven, her comfy place, her place that she wants to be, no matter how old she is, when she just needs to be loved.
Although at the same time, I want to kick her ass and help her be the person I know she can be, which was my dad. It's funny because in some ways, he was so "whatever, that's not a big deal, kids will be kids" but at the same time, he pushed me to do things I was scared of, so I wasn't scared anymore. When he taught me how to drive, he used to push my leg down on the gas when I pulled out into traffic if I wasn't going fast enough. He would force me to try things I didn't want to do, at least once, no matter how much I cried and screamed and pleaded with him not to make me do it. He wanted me to try being an Acolyte at church. I was very shy, I wanted nothing to do with it, I begged and pleaded, he didn't move an inch. I tried it, and loved it. The summer I turned 16, he told me I had to get a job. I didn't want one, I was nervous, but he made me do it....I ended up loving my job, had a blast that summer, met a lot of great friends, and even met my first boyfriend there.
And then my mom, who was so hard on me with other things, was the one who would say it's ok, if you don't want to do that, you don't have to. I had a really stressful semester in college one year, and a lot of personal crap weighing on me too. I hated this one class, I wanted to drop it for no other reason than it was too much work and I was dreading the presentation we had to give at the end of the semester. My dad's advice....you have to take the class sometime, you've already put X amount of weeks in, might as well keep pushing through. My mom's advice....if you're that stressed out about it, maybe it's better to just drop it.
So I really hope that I can be all of those things for Emily. I mean, I don't want to set the bar so high that she is being set up to fail, but I want to be both the person she comes to for nurturing and comfort, and the person that doesn't let her get away with shit and push her to her potential. I have no idea if I am succeeding so far, but I think I am a pretty good balance of the two.
A lot of mornings, she watches cartoons and eats breakfast while I try to wake up, and browse facebook and timehop. Some days I am much more open to her "playing bubbles" (meaning, watch kids youtube vidoes) on my phone, because it means she sits on my lap while she watches. I just love having her warm little body close to mine, sitting and snuggling without a care in the world. I usually sit in the recliner, so my feet are hanging out right at about her waist level. When she plays or watches tv, she's often on the move, occasionally stopping to watch something....and she'll stand there and play with my feet. She'll either just stand there and hold my foot, or grab onto some toes. It sounds weird, and my husband thinks it is gross, but I just love it. I love that when she is near me, she has to be touching me and close to me in some way, even if it is just my stinky feet. I love it and I cherish it, because I know there will come a day when she no longer wants to be within an arm's length of me, and probably won't even want to talk to me or look at me. I hope we can defy the odds, I hope we can be the mother/daughter pair that can survive the tween/teenage years with our sanity mostly intact, especially because my mom and I did not. But even if we don't, I will cherish these moments, and at least have the memories of them when they stop.
With the holidays approaching, I am all about making memories and starting family traditions. My husband got a reciprocating saw last year, and has been using it quite a bit lately. One night he was out cutting some wood for a project, and it was starting to get dark out. It instantly brought me back to the nights when I was a kid, and as it was getting dark out, and my mom was in the kitchen making dinner, my dad would be outside working....either cutting things on his table saw, or using a chainsaw to cut up wood for the wood stove. Everyone always complains when time change happens and it gets dark out so early, but for me, when it's cold outside and your in the house, nice and warm, I love that it gets dark early. I guess it just brings back good memories for me.
We're embarking on our third annual outing for our Christmas tree tomorrow night. Since we've been together, we've done several different things. For a while we still used my artificial tree, once we decided to go real, some years we've had my dad bring one back for us from his tree farm up north, one year we went to a farm and cut one down, and one year Ryan brought one home from work, because one of the home improvement stores his boss had a contract with was giving away trees to employees since it was getting close to Christmas and they weren't selling as fast.
For at least the past 4 or 5 years we've been getting a tree from this farm that sets up a lot nearby. It's one of those old school lots with the string lights around the perimeter and the silver air stream camper parked on-site. I love it, brings back great memories of the tree lot my dad always took us to get our tree. For Emily's first Christmas, she was only 8 months old, so I just sat in the truck with her while Ryan picked one out, but last year we all walked the lot, picket out a tree and then went to dinner afterward. I decided to make that our yearly tradition, dinner and picking out the tree....and you have to go once it's dark so you can get the full affect of the lights strung up around the lot.
This year we have to add Emily's first hair cut to the festivities. She had an appointment a few days ago, but it was raining and yucky and cold, and well...when you're a work-at-home mom, you can do whatever the hell you want to do, and I didn't feel like going out in the rain that day. So I rescheduled for tomorrow. She's actually had several hair cuts by yours truly, and her Grammy. Her bangs grow like weeds, so we've had to keep up on those. But I do a terrible job, so assuming they don't cut them too short, I'll be excited for her to have evenly cut bangs for the first time ever. I'm also going to have them trim her hair overall a little. She has really long hair for a toddler, it's about to the middle of her back. But I've noticed the ends are really thin and scraggly, and she's almost 3 so I figured it was high time for her first official cut.
Her very first cut was actually when I cut off her rat tail around 8 months. She was born with a full head of hair, but for some reason had this little tail that grew so much faster than anything else. When I finally said screw the superstitions about cutting before one year, it was around 6 inches long when I cut it. But this will be her first official, at a salon, cut by a professional, hair cut. I'm so excited, I hope she does ok. But this place sounds great, it's especially for kids, they have a lot of games and videos, and the chairs are little cars that they can sit in while they get their hair cut. The website also boasted about how good the stylists are about working with the kids, and have even been known to walk around the salon while cutting hair, especially for special needs kids who have troubles sitting still for too long. Hopefully the experience will live up to what they claim. It's kind of funny, I booked the appointment for the baby's first hair cut package. I am not entirely sure what that entails, but I assume it lets them known it's her first cut so she'll be nervous, and probably includes a keepsake locke or something. But I feel kind of funny saying baby's first, and here will come in this walking, talking 2.5 year old. But, I think a lot of girls are much older than boys for their first hair cut. Wish us luck!
Saturday, December 3, 2016
Long time no write
Five years ago today I got my first ever positive pregnancy test. My time hop reminded me of it because I had taken a picture of the digital test. That baby would have turned 4 this past August. Seems weird to think that I would have a 4 year old right now. Or a 3 year old if Kayla had lived. But I am ever so thankful for my 2 year old.
My stepmom's nephew needs a carseat and he doesn't have much money, so I told her he could have Emily's old bucket seats. She'll never need it again, it and the bases are cluttering up the basement and you're really not supposed to buy used seats, so I doubt I could get much if any money for them. I mentioned it to Ryan, I don't know why....I guess just to let him know. He asked if I was sure I wanted to do that, implying that we might still need them one day. Oh God, I thought we were on the same page as that, and now he sounds like he is maybe possibly considering another baby? I had planned on one or both of us getting something permanent done BC wise in the new year.
I mean, I haven't fully accepted, or I guess maybe finished mourning the idea of another baby. I still have pangs now and again, I still wish it was a perfect world where I could have another baby. My cousin posted a picture of her two daughters the other day reading a book together....the oldest is six months younger than Em, and her youngest is 5 months old. It was the sweetest picture. So yeah, I do still sometimes wish I could have another baby, meaning I would wake up tomorrow and not be of advanced maternal age, not have all of my high risk issues, not have a history of loss and the risk of experiencing that same loss.
But, I do. So for those reasons and others, I don't want another. I think it is normal to grieve the loss of not having another, even if you don't really want one. But I know I am done, because the idea of taking OPKs all the time, and temping, and taking pregnancy tests, and experiencing the awful let down every month that it's negative, and then the joy and fear once you do get pregnant, and then the fatigue and exhaustion of trying to keep up with Emily while pregnant.... Freaking out every time I have a cramp, or I spot, that awful feeling when the worry sets in and you think, why wouldn't I lose this baby, why wouldn't more bad things happen to me?
My job is only getting more and more in-depth and I will only be gaining more responsibilities and hours in the future, we have no other place to put my home office so that another baby could have this room, and Emily's room is barely big enough for her, let alone sharing a room with a sibling. Like, all of that just doesn't even seem to be in the realm of possibility any more. I am done.
So, we took Emily to see Santa today. Second year in a row it did not go well. Her first year she was too young to be upset, she just sat on his lap, looking at him like whoooo are you???? Last year she was shy and upset and wouldn't let me put her down, but she would at least sit on my lap while I sat next to him. Of course I hadn't planned on being in the picture, so I looked like crap. This year I assumed I would have to be in it so I dressed nice and did my hair and make up, but she threw such a fit, she wouldn't even sit on my lap for a decent picture. I guess we'll try again next year.
We took her to her first movie a few weeks ago, we saw Trolls. We were going to wait until she was like 4, but then I thought, eh, she does really well in public, she had been getting excited every time she saw the Trolls commercial....and most people wait to take their first to a movie, but what do they do with subsequent children? They don't stop going to movies, so the younger sibs go whenever. So we went on a weekday, the earliest show they had. There were only like 5 other families there. She did good. She enjoyed her candy and food, and she seemed to like the movie. I told her she had to whisper if she had to say something, but every time she talked she spoke in her normal voice. But the movie was loud so likely no one heard her, and she's a kid at a kid movie, so whatever.
She did ask to go potty once, but I didn't think to grab my purse which has her fold up potty seat in it, and she is too afraid of big commercial potties, so it was an unsuccessful trip. But other than that she did great. I doubt we'll be in any rush to take her again soon. I couldn't relax quite as well as I would have liked, worried about her making noise or needing the potty and making sure she had her food, and didn't spill, etc. So unless something comes out that she would absolutely love, we'll probably just wait for the drive-in this summer. I'd like to take her to the new Beauty and the Beast coming out since she loves the animated one, but being that is has real people in it, I am not sure it will hold her interest, so we'll just catch it on DVD. I think I might make Ryan take me to see it though :)
My stepmom's nephew needs a carseat and he doesn't have much money, so I told her he could have Emily's old bucket seats. She'll never need it again, it and the bases are cluttering up the basement and you're really not supposed to buy used seats, so I doubt I could get much if any money for them. I mentioned it to Ryan, I don't know why....I guess just to let him know. He asked if I was sure I wanted to do that, implying that we might still need them one day. Oh God, I thought we were on the same page as that, and now he sounds like he is maybe possibly considering another baby? I had planned on one or both of us getting something permanent done BC wise in the new year.
I mean, I haven't fully accepted, or I guess maybe finished mourning the idea of another baby. I still have pangs now and again, I still wish it was a perfect world where I could have another baby. My cousin posted a picture of her two daughters the other day reading a book together....the oldest is six months younger than Em, and her youngest is 5 months old. It was the sweetest picture. So yeah, I do still sometimes wish I could have another baby, meaning I would wake up tomorrow and not be of advanced maternal age, not have all of my high risk issues, not have a history of loss and the risk of experiencing that same loss.
But, I do. So for those reasons and others, I don't want another. I think it is normal to grieve the loss of not having another, even if you don't really want one. But I know I am done, because the idea of taking OPKs all the time, and temping, and taking pregnancy tests, and experiencing the awful let down every month that it's negative, and then the joy and fear once you do get pregnant, and then the fatigue and exhaustion of trying to keep up with Emily while pregnant.... Freaking out every time I have a cramp, or I spot, that awful feeling when the worry sets in and you think, why wouldn't I lose this baby, why wouldn't more bad things happen to me?
My job is only getting more and more in-depth and I will only be gaining more responsibilities and hours in the future, we have no other place to put my home office so that another baby could have this room, and Emily's room is barely big enough for her, let alone sharing a room with a sibling. Like, all of that just doesn't even seem to be in the realm of possibility any more. I am done.
So, we took Emily to see Santa today. Second year in a row it did not go well. Her first year she was too young to be upset, she just sat on his lap, looking at him like whoooo are you???? Last year she was shy and upset and wouldn't let me put her down, but she would at least sit on my lap while I sat next to him. Of course I hadn't planned on being in the picture, so I looked like crap. This year I assumed I would have to be in it so I dressed nice and did my hair and make up, but she threw such a fit, she wouldn't even sit on my lap for a decent picture. I guess we'll try again next year.
We took her to her first movie a few weeks ago, we saw Trolls. We were going to wait until she was like 4, but then I thought, eh, she does really well in public, she had been getting excited every time she saw the Trolls commercial....and most people wait to take their first to a movie, but what do they do with subsequent children? They don't stop going to movies, so the younger sibs go whenever. So we went on a weekday, the earliest show they had. There were only like 5 other families there. She did good. She enjoyed her candy and food, and she seemed to like the movie. I told her she had to whisper if she had to say something, but every time she talked she spoke in her normal voice. But the movie was loud so likely no one heard her, and she's a kid at a kid movie, so whatever.
She did ask to go potty once, but I didn't think to grab my purse which has her fold up potty seat in it, and she is too afraid of big commercial potties, so it was an unsuccessful trip. But other than that she did great. I doubt we'll be in any rush to take her again soon. I couldn't relax quite as well as I would have liked, worried about her making noise or needing the potty and making sure she had her food, and didn't spill, etc. So unless something comes out that she would absolutely love, we'll probably just wait for the drive-in this summer. I'd like to take her to the new Beauty and the Beast coming out since she loves the animated one, but being that is has real people in it, I am not sure it will hold her interest, so we'll just catch it on DVD. I think I might make Ryan take me to see it though :)
Wednesday, November 16, 2016
Good people
A couple weeks ago, right before Halloween a little boy in our city was chasing his dog that got out, running into a busy 5 lane road. Sadly, both the boy and his dog were hit by a car and killed. Being so close, the story resonated with us. The little blonde boy reminded us of our nephew who is the same age and it took my husband back to his accident a few months ago where he hit a pedestrian. Luckily that man was ok save for some bumps and bruises, but it still really shook my husband up and he still thinks of it all every single day, and probably will for a long time.
We grieved for that little boy, his dog, and their family. But also for the lady that hit them. Witnesses say she was very upset, screaming "what have I done" at the accident scene. It was an accident though. It was dark, and the speed limit on that road is around 40 or 45. Sadly it is very likely that the little boy knew the dangers of running into the road. The dog got out of their house, so it sounds like they lived pretty close to the road, so he likely had been taught road safety. But worried about his best friend, it is understandable why he just reacted, and followed his dog into the road.
The story was on both local and tri-state area news for that whole week, showing a heartbreaking picture of the little boy and his dog snoozing on the couch. Being that I am no stranger to grief, I tend to get sucked into stories like these, feeling for how the family must have been feeling. Thinking about how they were probably thinking, this time two days ago my son was still alive, or this time a week ago, we had no idea what was about to happen. It's thoughts like that that haunt me, because you never know when that last hug, that last kiss, that last "I love you" will be. Days, hours, and just mere minutes before, we have no idea the pain that is about to take place.
The following Saturday, I was aware of the fact that it had been one week since it happened. Recently our city's fire station relocated not too far from our house. The night of the accident, it was unseasonably warm so my husband had the front door open, and he said the wails from all the sirens speeding to the scene of the accident was deafening, and he knew it must have been very bad for all those trucks to be responding. Eerily, that following Saturday night, at just a few minutes till 8pm, almost the exact moment the little boy was hit, we again had our door open due to the nice weather, and just then we heard sirens again. I never did find out what accident or incident they were headed to, but it just made us that much more sad, hearing the sirens at almost the exact same time.
Within hours of the accident, a Go Fund Me was set up. I usually hate Go Fund Me. In many cases, such as this one, the tragic incident just barely happened and there is the Go Fund Me popping up. I know funerals are expensive, but it just kills me to think...who is thinking about money in a time like this? I hate how common place they have become. Nobody expects to pay for their loved ones funeral anymore, they just set up a Go Fund Me and expect others to pay. It's the entitled aspect I don't like. Bad things happen all the time, people die all the time. The idea of asking for strangers to pay for your loved one's funeral, just because they died, you know, like every other person on this planet one day will, makes me insane.
It also infuriates me how many people flock to donate, just because a story was in the news. I get it somewhat....I didn't know this little boy, and tons of other children like him are sadly killed or die every day, every hour. But there are soooo many causes and tragedies out there. If you're going to donate to something and you see that they have raised more than enough money, then spread your charity out and donate elsewhere. Donations are great, selfless giving is amazing, but ONE person does not need all the donations in the world. There are so many others who are deserving too.
Because he was a child, and losing a child is something I can at least relate to, I can somewhat understand the Go Fund Me in this situation. Nobody is prepared for the loss of a child. Nobody thinks they have to save money for their child's funeral. The pain and devastation this family is going through is beyond words, I am so happy they don't have to add the financial strain of trying to pay for the funeral themselves. We were lucky, we had parents who were capable and more than willing to pay for much of the funeral arrangements and head stone for Kayla, and some other family members gave us money as well. But I cannot imagine asking anyone, much less strangers, to pay for it.
Not surprisingly, the account grew very quickly, and had surpassed the $11,000 goal very quickly. But it kept growing. I am glad they raised enough to pay for the funeral, and it would be nice if they got some money to help cover lost wages as they would surely need to take a lot of time off work. No company is able to offer the amount of time you really need after a tragedy like this. But after just another day or two, the fund had reached $26,000, plus a local coffee shop had donated 50% of a day's sales which I think amounted to about $4000, a lot of local businesses donated food and drinks for the luncheon afterward, and someone else donated the cremation services for the dog. So when all was said and done, they probably had about $33,000 worth in monetary and goods donations.
I don't know if I sound like I am jealous or bitter or hateful. I hope none of the above. It just baffles me that the average person probably doesn't donate much of anything, and then boom, a big story like this comes alone that rocks the community and people go crazy donating. I am not saying this family didn't deserve it, but sadly he was just one little boy that died. Many others die every day and do not get any help because their tragedy didn't make it in the news. Many other families struggle to make ends meet, to pay the funeral costs, to make up wages lost from taking time off work, and financial troubles is probably one of the contributing factors that leads to a couple divorcing in tragedies like these.
I am glad the funeral was covered and possibly some time off work as well, and perhaps some would argue that people donated that money knowing full well that they had more than enough, and chose to donate it anyway so it is theirs to do with as they please. But it kills me to think that in cases like these, once the services are paid for, people are buying new shoes and clothes and other non necessities on money that was donated to them because their child died. And any parent knows, the money does not take away the pain and it does not bring their child back.
So I was very amazed to hear that not only did the family turn off the Go Fund Me when it hit $26,000 (imagine what it would have eventually climbed to if left on) they also announced that anything left over after the funeral expenses were paid for would be donated to the Tears Foundations, which is the organization that we walk for Kayla with each year, they raise money to help pay for children's funerals. To say I am proud of that family sounds condescending, but I am. They were just days into their new reality, the most painful thing they would ever go through. Not only did they clearly appreciate and were overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from the community, they recognized that they did not need all of that money and keeping it just wouldn't be right. They recognized that lots of other families were going through the same pain but were not able to get that kind of help with the costs. The community was there for them when they needed to lay their sweet boy to rest, so they wanted to pay it forward to other families in the same situation, that maybe wouldn't get the media coverage they got. That to me is amazing. Just when I think the world is going to hell, I realize people like this exist in the world. People who are facing the most horrific pain a parent can experience, and still think of others. Rest in peace little man.
We grieved for that little boy, his dog, and their family. But also for the lady that hit them. Witnesses say she was very upset, screaming "what have I done" at the accident scene. It was an accident though. It was dark, and the speed limit on that road is around 40 or 45. Sadly it is very likely that the little boy knew the dangers of running into the road. The dog got out of their house, so it sounds like they lived pretty close to the road, so he likely had been taught road safety. But worried about his best friend, it is understandable why he just reacted, and followed his dog into the road.
The story was on both local and tri-state area news for that whole week, showing a heartbreaking picture of the little boy and his dog snoozing on the couch. Being that I am no stranger to grief, I tend to get sucked into stories like these, feeling for how the family must have been feeling. Thinking about how they were probably thinking, this time two days ago my son was still alive, or this time a week ago, we had no idea what was about to happen. It's thoughts like that that haunt me, because you never know when that last hug, that last kiss, that last "I love you" will be. Days, hours, and just mere minutes before, we have no idea the pain that is about to take place.
The following Saturday, I was aware of the fact that it had been one week since it happened. Recently our city's fire station relocated not too far from our house. The night of the accident, it was unseasonably warm so my husband had the front door open, and he said the wails from all the sirens speeding to the scene of the accident was deafening, and he knew it must have been very bad for all those trucks to be responding. Eerily, that following Saturday night, at just a few minutes till 8pm, almost the exact moment the little boy was hit, we again had our door open due to the nice weather, and just then we heard sirens again. I never did find out what accident or incident they were headed to, but it just made us that much more sad, hearing the sirens at almost the exact same time.
Within hours of the accident, a Go Fund Me was set up. I usually hate Go Fund Me. In many cases, such as this one, the tragic incident just barely happened and there is the Go Fund Me popping up. I know funerals are expensive, but it just kills me to think...who is thinking about money in a time like this? I hate how common place they have become. Nobody expects to pay for their loved ones funeral anymore, they just set up a Go Fund Me and expect others to pay. It's the entitled aspect I don't like. Bad things happen all the time, people die all the time. The idea of asking for strangers to pay for your loved one's funeral, just because they died, you know, like every other person on this planet one day will, makes me insane.
It also infuriates me how many people flock to donate, just because a story was in the news. I get it somewhat....I didn't know this little boy, and tons of other children like him are sadly killed or die every day, every hour. But there are soooo many causes and tragedies out there. If you're going to donate to something and you see that they have raised more than enough money, then spread your charity out and donate elsewhere. Donations are great, selfless giving is amazing, but ONE person does not need all the donations in the world. There are so many others who are deserving too.
Because he was a child, and losing a child is something I can at least relate to, I can somewhat understand the Go Fund Me in this situation. Nobody is prepared for the loss of a child. Nobody thinks they have to save money for their child's funeral. The pain and devastation this family is going through is beyond words, I am so happy they don't have to add the financial strain of trying to pay for the funeral themselves. We were lucky, we had parents who were capable and more than willing to pay for much of the funeral arrangements and head stone for Kayla, and some other family members gave us money as well. But I cannot imagine asking anyone, much less strangers, to pay for it.
Not surprisingly, the account grew very quickly, and had surpassed the $11,000 goal very quickly. But it kept growing. I am glad they raised enough to pay for the funeral, and it would be nice if they got some money to help cover lost wages as they would surely need to take a lot of time off work. No company is able to offer the amount of time you really need after a tragedy like this. But after just another day or two, the fund had reached $26,000, plus a local coffee shop had donated 50% of a day's sales which I think amounted to about $4000, a lot of local businesses donated food and drinks for the luncheon afterward, and someone else donated the cremation services for the dog. So when all was said and done, they probably had about $33,000 worth in monetary and goods donations.
I don't know if I sound like I am jealous or bitter or hateful. I hope none of the above. It just baffles me that the average person probably doesn't donate much of anything, and then boom, a big story like this comes alone that rocks the community and people go crazy donating. I am not saying this family didn't deserve it, but sadly he was just one little boy that died. Many others die every day and do not get any help because their tragedy didn't make it in the news. Many other families struggle to make ends meet, to pay the funeral costs, to make up wages lost from taking time off work, and financial troubles is probably one of the contributing factors that leads to a couple divorcing in tragedies like these.
I am glad the funeral was covered and possibly some time off work as well, and perhaps some would argue that people donated that money knowing full well that they had more than enough, and chose to donate it anyway so it is theirs to do with as they please. But it kills me to think that in cases like these, once the services are paid for, people are buying new shoes and clothes and other non necessities on money that was donated to them because their child died. And any parent knows, the money does not take away the pain and it does not bring their child back.
So I was very amazed to hear that not only did the family turn off the Go Fund Me when it hit $26,000 (imagine what it would have eventually climbed to if left on) they also announced that anything left over after the funeral expenses were paid for would be donated to the Tears Foundations, which is the organization that we walk for Kayla with each year, they raise money to help pay for children's funerals. To say I am proud of that family sounds condescending, but I am. They were just days into their new reality, the most painful thing they would ever go through. Not only did they clearly appreciate and were overwhelmed by the outpouring of love from the community, they recognized that they did not need all of that money and keeping it just wouldn't be right. They recognized that lots of other families were going through the same pain but were not able to get that kind of help with the costs. The community was there for them when they needed to lay their sweet boy to rest, so they wanted to pay it forward to other families in the same situation, that maybe wouldn't get the media coverage they got. That to me is amazing. Just when I think the world is going to hell, I realize people like this exist in the world. People who are facing the most horrific pain a parent can experience, and still think of others. Rest in peace little man.
Monday, October 31, 2016
Capture your grief, day 31
31. SUNSET REFLECTION | We have come to the end of this Capture Your Grief experience so take a big breath and a long sigh. Thank you so much to everyone who has taken part this year and especially for allowing me the grace to grieve and take my own time with posting my daily subjects. Everything kind of fell apart at the beginning of this month when the little baby that I didn’t even know I was carrying, died. Everything is kind of off balance at the moment including my physical health so I just want to let you all know that I really have appreciated you support and love during this time. On this last day, take some time out to watch the sunset from wherever you are in the world and reflect on this last month. How do you feel? What have you learned? What did you dislike? What did you like?
I couldn't get a sunset shot tonight. We were out trick or treating at the time, but there were just too many tall trees in our neighborhood to see any of the colored sky. So I took this pic, because it's a beautiful tree and it was right around twilight.
I really enjoyed the capture your grief project this year. I know last year I think I started it and kind of quit part way, and previous years it was mostly through photos, which was cool, but some of the topics were hard to convey in photographs. This year, I really liked the topics, and writing about them. It helped me to do a lot of reflecting and coming to terms with things and thinking about my grief in ways I hadn't before. I found myself looking forward to each day to write (despite having to often do two or three days at once). I wish everyone peace and comfort in their grief journey.
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So Halloween was great this year for Em. She enjoyed trick or treating last year, but there was no build up to the day and I am sure she didn't really know why she was walking around Baba's neighborhood and going door to door. This year she's been excited about it, pointing out pumpkins and ghosts and witches and making scary faces and playing with window clings. I'd tell her she was going to go trick or treating and she'd get really excited and she has two Halloween books that she loved reading.
On Saturday we went to my brother's house and went downtown where they were doing a trick or treat at a bunch of the businesses. It was a nice day, in the 70's so she wore her Elsa dress that my MIL got for her to add to her dress-up trunk. I was glad the weather was nice so she got to wear different costumes to each event, and all of her costumes this year were free! I refuse to pay a lot for her costumes that she is going to wear for an hour or less. Her first Halloween I did spend some on her banana costume and Ryan's gorilla, but come on....daddy gorilla and baby banana was just too cute, I had to splurge. But that year she also wore a lady bug costume, and last year's monkey both came from second hand stores so they were probably 5 bucks each. My MIL bought Elsa and the bumblebee she wore tonight came from my supervisor.
So she had fun Saturday dragging her uncle around to the businesses and getting candy, and then we had dinner out and then hung out with them back at their house. I had told her we were going a few days before to get her excited, and one day she put her purse on and said bye mama. I asked where she was going and she said to Joe Joe's for Halloween. Omg, so adorable. Last night we carved pumpkins, she wasn't as into that but we of course had to do all the work so she didn't really participate but she liked seeing them with the candles in them when we were done. So tonight once it got a little dusk and we saw others out and about, we took our little bee and went around the neighborhood. Our next door neighbor, I am never really sure who all lives there because she has family over all the time, but her adult daughter answered the door and gave Em her candy and talked for a few. Then we were at the next house and the mom came outside from next door and was calling me, telling me to bring Emily back so she could see her. So we went back and she gave Em another piece and she was saying how cute she was and asking how old she is now. We really have the best neighbors.
After a few more houses, we met up with our neighbors on the other side, so we went to a few houses with them, but their kids could not contain their excitement. They are like 13, 11, 7, and 3 so they were all running from house to house, so we lost them after 5 houses or so. Emily took her hood down for a few houses, and despite being great weather tonight for Halloween in Michigan, it was getting a little chilly. I think it was around 53...so at one point I put her hood back up and she said, "that's better, thanks".
We went to this one house that I admire a lot, they have an added on second story and they put the stairs in their living room against the wall next to their drive way. We are seriously considering adding an upstairs, and that is exactly where we would want to put our stairs too, so I was excited to go to that house so I could peek in and see how well the stairs fit. I think our living room is bigger than theirs too, so the stairs really shouldn't take up that much room. Ryan even asked the guy about it and he was telling us how big the upstairs is and how he wishes it was a little bigger. Good to know. I love walking around our neighborhood...for the most part the houses are all the same style, so it's fun to see the different things owners have done to their house over the years. It's like a giant showroom, and we get to see how thing looks on "our house" before we do it.
I think we were out for about 30-45 minutes, she got a decent sized stash for her little self (and for mommy and daddy to steal some). Once we were back we turned our porch light on to hand out candy. We were giving each kid two pieces, and we ended up emptying our bowl and had to turn off the light. There were still kids out....but I think if we had given only one to everyone, we would have had some leftover. But I was happy to get rid of it, Em's candy is enough of a temptation, and it was good to see a lot of kids out. It doesn't seem like as many kids trick or treat as when I was a kid. In previous years we hardly got any kids at our door. But the weather is part of it. No rain, no snow and a very comfortable low 50's. I'm so glad the first Halloween that Em was really excited for and aware of was good weather. Last year was ok, but it did sprinkle a little, and the year before was awful, very cold and raining. I think we took her to two or three houses and called it quits. She was only 7 months old, she didn't care. I'm excited to see how into Christmas she is this year!
I couldn't get a sunset shot tonight. We were out trick or treating at the time, but there were just too many tall trees in our neighborhood to see any of the colored sky. So I took this pic, because it's a beautiful tree and it was right around twilight.
I really enjoyed the capture your grief project this year. I know last year I think I started it and kind of quit part way, and previous years it was mostly through photos, which was cool, but some of the topics were hard to convey in photographs. This year, I really liked the topics, and writing about them. It helped me to do a lot of reflecting and coming to terms with things and thinking about my grief in ways I hadn't before. I found myself looking forward to each day to write (despite having to often do two or three days at once). I wish everyone peace and comfort in their grief journey.
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So Halloween was great this year for Em. She enjoyed trick or treating last year, but there was no build up to the day and I am sure she didn't really know why she was walking around Baba's neighborhood and going door to door. This year she's been excited about it, pointing out pumpkins and ghosts and witches and making scary faces and playing with window clings. I'd tell her she was going to go trick or treating and she'd get really excited and she has two Halloween books that she loved reading.
On Saturday we went to my brother's house and went downtown where they were doing a trick or treat at a bunch of the businesses. It was a nice day, in the 70's so she wore her Elsa dress that my MIL got for her to add to her dress-up trunk. I was glad the weather was nice so she got to wear different costumes to each event, and all of her costumes this year were free! I refuse to pay a lot for her costumes that she is going to wear for an hour or less. Her first Halloween I did spend some on her banana costume and Ryan's gorilla, but come on....daddy gorilla and baby banana was just too cute, I had to splurge. But that year she also wore a lady bug costume, and last year's monkey both came from second hand stores so they were probably 5 bucks each. My MIL bought Elsa and the bumblebee she wore tonight came from my supervisor.
So she had fun Saturday dragging her uncle around to the businesses and getting candy, and then we had dinner out and then hung out with them back at their house. I had told her we were going a few days before to get her excited, and one day she put her purse on and said bye mama. I asked where she was going and she said to Joe Joe's for Halloween. Omg, so adorable. Last night we carved pumpkins, she wasn't as into that but we of course had to do all the work so she didn't really participate but she liked seeing them with the candles in them when we were done. So tonight once it got a little dusk and we saw others out and about, we took our little bee and went around the neighborhood. Our next door neighbor, I am never really sure who all lives there because she has family over all the time, but her adult daughter answered the door and gave Em her candy and talked for a few. Then we were at the next house and the mom came outside from next door and was calling me, telling me to bring Emily back so she could see her. So we went back and she gave Em another piece and she was saying how cute she was and asking how old she is now. We really have the best neighbors.
After a few more houses, we met up with our neighbors on the other side, so we went to a few houses with them, but their kids could not contain their excitement. They are like 13, 11, 7, and 3 so they were all running from house to house, so we lost them after 5 houses or so. Emily took her hood down for a few houses, and despite being great weather tonight for Halloween in Michigan, it was getting a little chilly. I think it was around 53...so at one point I put her hood back up and she said, "that's better, thanks".
We went to this one house that I admire a lot, they have an added on second story and they put the stairs in their living room against the wall next to their drive way. We are seriously considering adding an upstairs, and that is exactly where we would want to put our stairs too, so I was excited to go to that house so I could peek in and see how well the stairs fit. I think our living room is bigger than theirs too, so the stairs really shouldn't take up that much room. Ryan even asked the guy about it and he was telling us how big the upstairs is and how he wishes it was a little bigger. Good to know. I love walking around our neighborhood...for the most part the houses are all the same style, so it's fun to see the different things owners have done to their house over the years. It's like a giant showroom, and we get to see how thing looks on "our house" before we do it.
I think we were out for about 30-45 minutes, she got a decent sized stash for her little self (and for mommy and daddy to steal some). Once we were back we turned our porch light on to hand out candy. We were giving each kid two pieces, and we ended up emptying our bowl and had to turn off the light. There were still kids out....but I think if we had given only one to everyone, we would have had some leftover. But I was happy to get rid of it, Em's candy is enough of a temptation, and it was good to see a lot of kids out. It doesn't seem like as many kids trick or treat as when I was a kid. In previous years we hardly got any kids at our door. But the weather is part of it. No rain, no snow and a very comfortable low 50's. I'm so glad the first Halloween that Em was really excited for and aware of was good weather. Last year was ok, but it did sprinkle a little, and the year before was awful, very cold and raining. I think we took her to two or three houses and called it quits. She was only 7 months old, she didn't care. I'm excited to see how into Christmas she is this year!
Sunday, October 30, 2016
Capture your grief, day 30
30. MY PROMISE TO YOU | I made a promise to my son a few years ago to live my life to the fullest in honour of him. I have succeeded and failed at that promise many time but what matters most is that it has helped me to hold onto love when there is only darkness and to always try my best to make him proud of me. What promise would you like to make to your child?
My promise I make to Kayla is to never ever let her be forgotten. It's hard sometimes, you get the feeling that no matter how valid your thoughts and feelings are, people just sometime get sick of hearing about your dead kid. I try not to let that get me down, just as everyone else has a right to talk about their living children, I shouldn't have to miss out on that just because one of my kids isn't here. I may not do it all the time, but I will never stop talking about her, no matter who gets tired of hearing about it, and no matter how many people think I shouldn't.
She will always be a part of our family. She will always be included in things. I've said before that we hang a Christmas stocking for her every year, we shop for her for gifts (and donate in her name) and Emily and I just got done making ornaments for the tree and Kayla has one with her name on it just like the rest of us do.
I will never stop calling attention to her birthday, I will never let a birthday go by without acknowledging it or telling the world that today is my daughter's birthday. She may be gone, but I will keep her memory alive. I will teach Emily about her big sister and she will always have a presence in our home.
My promise I make to Kayla is to never ever let her be forgotten. It's hard sometimes, you get the feeling that no matter how valid your thoughts and feelings are, people just sometime get sick of hearing about your dead kid. I try not to let that get me down, just as everyone else has a right to talk about their living children, I shouldn't have to miss out on that just because one of my kids isn't here. I may not do it all the time, but I will never stop talking about her, no matter who gets tired of hearing about it, and no matter how many people think I shouldn't.
She will always be a part of our family. She will always be included in things. I've said before that we hang a Christmas stocking for her every year, we shop for her for gifts (and donate in her name) and Emily and I just got done making ornaments for the tree and Kayla has one with her name on it just like the rest of us do.
I will never stop calling attention to her birthday, I will never let a birthday go by without acknowledging it or telling the world that today is my daughter's birthday. She may be gone, but I will keep her memory alive. I will teach Emily about her big sister and she will always have a presence in our home.
Capture your grief, day 29
29. GIVE AWAY YOUR LOVE | One of my greatest healers when it comes to mending my own broken heart has been sharing kindness with strangers. Today you are invited to perform an act of kindness. Spread kindness wherever you go today. In all your interactions, be an example of love and compassion and see if it helps your heart. You are welcome to share what you did or you can keep it private and just share how it made you feel. It is completely up to you.
To people who don't know me well, they might think I am pretty tough on the outside. I am very opinionated and my opinions are not always sugar and spice, I have a huge vocabulary of cuss words and things to yell at people in traffic, and my sense of humor is often on the darker, sarcastic, mean side. But honestly, I have a heart of gold and nothing makes me more happy than doing things for others, and seeing them happy.
I wouldn't say I am a people pleaser, because in a lot of cases I truly don't care what people think of me. But I really do love to do kind things. If I were a millionaire, I would love to just go around paying for people's things and spreading happiness. I didn't leave the house today, so I suppose I didn't spread any cheer but I can say that when I do, it makes me feel warm inside. Yeah yeah, the cliche "warm fuzzy feeling". But it's true. Despite feeling like I sometimes drew the short stick of life, I really have been very blessed in my life, and I like to see others receiving blessings as well.
To people who don't know me well, they might think I am pretty tough on the outside. I am very opinionated and my opinions are not always sugar and spice, I have a huge vocabulary of cuss words and things to yell at people in traffic, and my sense of humor is often on the darker, sarcastic, mean side. But honestly, I have a heart of gold and nothing makes me more happy than doing things for others, and seeing them happy.
I wouldn't say I am a people pleaser, because in a lot of cases I truly don't care what people think of me. But I really do love to do kind things. If I were a millionaire, I would love to just go around paying for people's things and spreading happiness. I didn't leave the house today, so I suppose I didn't spread any cheer but I can say that when I do, it makes me feel warm inside. Yeah yeah, the cliche "warm fuzzy feeling". But it's true. Despite feeling like I sometimes drew the short stick of life, I really have been very blessed in my life, and I like to see others receiving blessings as well.
Saturday, October 29, 2016
Capture your grief, day 28
28. SELF COMPASSION | Self Compassion is integral to healing your broken heart. You can start to practice more self compassion by showing yourself a little more love and care. Do you have any self-care practices? What are your thoughts on taking care of yourself.
I can be pretty hard on myself, my own worst enemy sometimes. But one thing I am learning is that I don't have to be the perfect mother, I don't have to be the perfect wife. If I want to spend a day snuggling with Emily and watching cartoons with her, then I should and will do that. The laundry, dishes, and whatever else will still be there tomorrow. Losing Kayla has taught me that life is short, so short in fact that some don't even get a chance to start it. Hopefully Emily lives to be an old lady, but even still, she will not be little forever. One of my babies is gone, and the other will be grown up before I know it. I take care of myself and cherish the seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months, and years with her because you never know when the last one will be, and the relationships with those we love is what is important every day. Emily will never look back and say, "mom wasn't a very good housekeeper", but she can look back and say, "I had the best childhood being home with my mom; we had so much fun together and we snuggled a lot".
I am also trying to take care of myself by letting some of the guilt go surrounding Kayla. I am not sure I'll ever let all of it go...she was my sweet baby and I will never be able to feel like I did all I could to protect her. But I often feel guilty for loving Emily as much as I do, or telling a stranger that I only have one child because I just cannot deal with telling this person at Target today that my other daughter died, or not getting to the cemetery on an important day, or not putting a pumpkin at her grave for Halloween, or fresh flowers in the spring. Kayla doesn't love me because I put flowers on her grave, or because I divulge my most painful memory to a complete stranger. She loves me because I am her mama and I would have done anything to save her. There is no guidebook for how to act as a bereaved mother and I am doing the best I can.
I can be pretty hard on myself, my own worst enemy sometimes. But one thing I am learning is that I don't have to be the perfect mother, I don't have to be the perfect wife. If I want to spend a day snuggling with Emily and watching cartoons with her, then I should and will do that. The laundry, dishes, and whatever else will still be there tomorrow. Losing Kayla has taught me that life is short, so short in fact that some don't even get a chance to start it. Hopefully Emily lives to be an old lady, but even still, she will not be little forever. One of my babies is gone, and the other will be grown up before I know it. I take care of myself and cherish the seconds, minutes, days, weeks, months, and years with her because you never know when the last one will be, and the relationships with those we love is what is important every day. Emily will never look back and say, "mom wasn't a very good housekeeper", but she can look back and say, "I had the best childhood being home with my mom; we had so much fun together and we snuggled a lot".
I am also trying to take care of myself by letting some of the guilt go surrounding Kayla. I am not sure I'll ever let all of it go...she was my sweet baby and I will never be able to feel like I did all I could to protect her. But I often feel guilty for loving Emily as much as I do, or telling a stranger that I only have one child because I just cannot deal with telling this person at Target today that my other daughter died, or not getting to the cemetery on an important day, or not putting a pumpkin at her grave for Halloween, or fresh flowers in the spring. Kayla doesn't love me because I put flowers on her grave, or because I divulge my most painful memory to a complete stranger. She loves me because I am her mama and I would have done anything to save her. There is no guidebook for how to act as a bereaved mother and I am doing the best I can.
Thursday, October 27, 2016
Capture your grief, day 27
27. FAMILY IS FOREVER | Your child is a part of your family forever. There will never come a day when you are no longer their parent. Until the end of time, you are family. Share about your family today. Who would be in your family portrait? Remembering that family does not have to be blood relatives.
My family portrait would of course include myself, Ryan, Kayla, and Emily. Our parents, as they have always been such a huge support for us, regarding Kayla and just everything. We really lucked out when it comes to parents. My brother and his wife, and my husband's sister, brother, and their kids. Our other nieces and nephews as well. My grandparents have passed on, but they would have to be in it as well. I would also include our best friends...they are definitely family to us. I would also want to include my aunt and cousin who live in Hawaii. Technically my great aunt and...second cousin? It's my grandpa's aunt and her daughter.
I didn't actually meet them until I was in my 20's. My aunt came to visit for the first time in years, so she, my grandma, my mom and I spent the day together and had lunch. I just kind of tagged along for something to do, I didn't mind meeting my aunt, but I also wasn't dying to meet her. Until then she was a stranger to me, whose name I heard mentioned from time to time.
Well she and I ended up clicking right away, we chatted the entire time and when she went back home I wrote to her and she wrote back, and soon we start exchanging emails. After a few years her daughter began writing to me as well, even though I hadn't ever met her in person. Fast forward 13 years, we all still write to each other every month or so, I sent pictures of Emily, and back when we got married they flew in for the wedding. They have been such a blessing in my life and I am so thankful to have met them. They are always on the edge of their seat when I have good news to share, and they are my sounding board when things aren't going well. They would definitely be in my family portrait.
On the same topic, I read this article a while back about this family that has lost their twin boys during pregnancy. They went on to have two girls in the years following, but of course their boys are a part of their family as well. They had family pictures taken, and the photographer was able to photo shop in two children's shadows, and the family posed so that they were holding hands with the shadows. It was such a beautiful picture and a lovely way to include their angels. We have a large framed family picture on the wall, but it always makes me sad when I look at it, because we are not a family of 3. I think going forward, I'll have Emily hold Kayla bear in our family pics, so that Kayla can be represented as well. But I definitely want to find a photographer that can do that for us one day with a shadow for Kayla.
My family portrait would of course include myself, Ryan, Kayla, and Emily. Our parents, as they have always been such a huge support for us, regarding Kayla and just everything. We really lucked out when it comes to parents. My brother and his wife, and my husband's sister, brother, and their kids. Our other nieces and nephews as well. My grandparents have passed on, but they would have to be in it as well. I would also include our best friends...they are definitely family to us. I would also want to include my aunt and cousin who live in Hawaii. Technically my great aunt and...second cousin? It's my grandpa's aunt and her daughter.
I didn't actually meet them until I was in my 20's. My aunt came to visit for the first time in years, so she, my grandma, my mom and I spent the day together and had lunch. I just kind of tagged along for something to do, I didn't mind meeting my aunt, but I also wasn't dying to meet her. Until then she was a stranger to me, whose name I heard mentioned from time to time.
Well she and I ended up clicking right away, we chatted the entire time and when she went back home I wrote to her and she wrote back, and soon we start exchanging emails. After a few years her daughter began writing to me as well, even though I hadn't ever met her in person. Fast forward 13 years, we all still write to each other every month or so, I sent pictures of Emily, and back when we got married they flew in for the wedding. They have been such a blessing in my life and I am so thankful to have met them. They are always on the edge of their seat when I have good news to share, and they are my sounding board when things aren't going well. They would definitely be in my family portrait.
On the same topic, I read this article a while back about this family that has lost their twin boys during pregnancy. They went on to have two girls in the years following, but of course their boys are a part of their family as well. They had family pictures taken, and the photographer was able to photo shop in two children's shadows, and the family posed so that they were holding hands with the shadows. It was such a beautiful picture and a lovely way to include their angels. We have a large framed family picture on the wall, but it always makes me sad when I look at it, because we are not a family of 3. I think going forward, I'll have Emily hold Kayla bear in our family pics, so that Kayla can be represented as well. But I definitely want to find a photographer that can do that for us one day with a shadow for Kayla.
Capture your grief, day 26
26. #WHATHEALSYOU | Turning the WHY into What Heals You? has been one of my greatest healers. Whenever I found myself asking “why did this have to happen. Why me? Why him?” etc etc I started asking myself what heals me? I revisited passions of mine and spent a little bit of time each day giving those passions my attention. Before too long, my life started becoming beautiful again. Share about what heals you and if you are not sure, have a think about what it is you ar passionate about. What heals you if often hidden there
I would have to say first and foremost, Emily heals me. I've said it a million times, she is and never will be a replacement for Kayla. But I honestly don't know where I would be without her. She is just the funniest, smartest, sweetest little girl and she makes me smile every single day.
I also love to do crafts and work on projects. Despite being incredibly lazy at times, I really am someone who likes to stay busy. Have too much downtime begets more down time, and laziness and lack of motivation. Asking the impossible questions usually inevitably also means I am feeling down, and lazy and blah which also means too much time to think. When I am busy crafting, I don't think, I just get lost in what I am doing. I also love to plan projects...sometimes planning them and going to the store to buy the items is just as much fun as the project itself. It's something I always look forward to. I am always too lazy to go to the grocery store, I was even feeling a bit lazy for Target the other day (gasp, I know!) but I am always up for a trip to the craft store.
Even better when the craft involves something for Kayla. I've done quite a few projects for her, and being in my happy place while crafting, plus doing something for her is definitely a healing passion.
I would have to say first and foremost, Emily heals me. I've said it a million times, she is and never will be a replacement for Kayla. But I honestly don't know where I would be without her. She is just the funniest, smartest, sweetest little girl and she makes me smile every single day.
I also love to do crafts and work on projects. Despite being incredibly lazy at times, I really am someone who likes to stay busy. Have too much downtime begets more down time, and laziness and lack of motivation. Asking the impossible questions usually inevitably also means I am feeling down, and lazy and blah which also means too much time to think. When I am busy crafting, I don't think, I just get lost in what I am doing. I also love to plan projects...sometimes planning them and going to the store to buy the items is just as much fun as the project itself. It's something I always look forward to. I am always too lazy to go to the grocery store, I was even feeling a bit lazy for Target the other day (gasp, I know!) but I am always up for a trip to the craft store.
Even better when the craft involves something for Kayla. I've done quite a few projects for her, and being in my happy place while crafting, plus doing something for her is definitely a healing passion.
Tuesday, October 25, 2016
Capture your grief, day 25
25. I AM | Finish these 5 sentences
I wish ________________________
I remember _______________________
I could not believe _____________________
If only _______________________
I am _____________________
I wish I could have both of my girls together, here on earth. I wish I could watch them play, and shriek and giggle. I wish I could watch Kayla teach her little sister things, and watch Emily look up to her big sister.
I remember how happy I was when I first saw those two pink lines. I tested so early, it was only 9DPO and it was in the evening, so I didn't even have FMU. I was dying to test, and I figured even if I did end up pregnant, surely it was way too soon to get a positive, so I decided to test just to get it out of my system. I figured if I tested and got a BFN, that would hold me over until 12DPO. But then to my utter shock and amazement, a very very faint second line popped up. I was in disbelief, but sooo happy!
I could not believe how tiny and beautiful Kayla was. I knew from ultrasounds that she definitely looked like a baby at that gestation. Hell, I knew she looked like a baby at 12 weeks. But it wasn't until she came out, and I held her that I realized just how much of a perfectly formed human being she was. The only thing that made it obvious how young she was, was her size, and the fact that her skin was still pretty translucent. Other than that, her facial features, lips, nose...omg her tiny little perfect nose, her little pouty chin, her little ears, exactly like mine or yours, except itty bitty....her miniature hands, with her perfect little fingers and fingernails....her fingers even had the little creases in her skin at her joints. Her entire hand was no bigger than the tip of my thumb. Losing her was so heartbreaking, but I cannot deny the fact that I got to witness a true miracle. Everybody is amazed when their children are born, and we forget just how little newborns are. But we take them for granted, most people have seen a few newborns in their day. But to sit and look at her, marveling at all her completely normal, every day features, but to see them so tiny and having been in the midst of growing. To see this tiny baby, who should have still been inside me for another four months...there is just no denying that babies are miracles.
If only....oh I could go on and on with this one. If only I had gone to the hospital sooner. If only she could have stayed in for just two more weeks...hell even one more week, even just a couple more days could have made all the difference. If only they had noticed my cervix shortening weeks earlier, if only there was a some sort of standard test or exam to look for signs of IC, if only there was some sort of bubble that would mimic my womb that they could have put her in to let her keep growing, if only it didn't happen to me.
I am a mother. I have two girls. You may only see one, but I am the mother of two, and I am strong and I am weak, and I am brave and I am scared. I am happy and I am sad, and I am absolutely in love with my daughters.
Capture your grief, day 24
24. CONSCIOUSLY BECOMING | So many of us split our lives into a timeline of before and after our children died. Who were you before your children died? Who are you now? Who are you now in this present moment? What are you feeling? Have you been irrevocably changed by the death of your children? How are you different now? Do you love anything about the new you? Do you want and old part of you back? Who are you becoming?
Before Kayla died, I was someone who didn't ever think of having a stillborn baby in 2013. I mean, I knew it happened, and I knew miscarriages happened and I believe I was aware of how common they were. But I had no idea stillbirth was so common. Each year in the US 23,600 babies will be born still, and it affects about 1 out of 160 pregnancies. I guess when it hasn't happened to you, that doesn't seem like a whole lot, considering live births equals about 3.9 million, making stillbirth about 1%. But when you're in that 1%, when you're that 1 out 160 women, it seems like way more.
I kind of thought stillbirth was something that happened in third world countries, or back in the 1800's. I had known of people who had miscarriages...friends of friends, acquaintances, friend's parents who lost a baby before or after my friend was born...but I had never known anyone, personally or casually that had a baby born sleeping.
Before we were even trying to get pregnant, I was out one night with my husband in his plow truck, and somehow we got on the subject of stillbirth, and how he had read about this hospital that gave women dolls to take home, because going home empty handed is so horrible. He said how they are allowed to hold them in the hospital, and rock them and bathe them (they're stillborn baby, not the doll). I remember thinking and saying that I don't think I would want to, or could hold the baby and do all of that, but I understood why someone would want to. But I also remember thinking how tragic that sounded...to go through the physical and emotional pain of labor and delivery, knowing your baby is gone and that you won't have him or her when it is all over. So before we lost Kayla, I was naive, yet still empathetic to something I hadn't, and never thought I would, experience. Which really makes me insane when people say rude things to me now, under the guise of just not understanding it or not having been there themselves. Yeah, maybe you have to experience something to really know, but you can still imagine that something is horrible without having first hand experience.
After....I am more reserved, scared, angry. I always thought I wanted two kids, and at one point I thought I would have three. There is a part of me that enjoys having just one living child, especially on nights like tonight when she is every bit of a bratty two-year old....but I would say the fear of another loss, not wanting to be greedy after being so lucky to have our rainbow, is the biggest reason we're not having any more. I am sure I would still have reservations, I am sure I would still be nervous that I don't know what I am getting into, but if we hadn't gone through all the loss and heartache that we did, I am quite certain we would have tried for one more after Emily.
I am angry, because...well, because my baby isn't here. I'm not sure how someone couldn't be angry over that. I'm fiercely protective of her and her memory. I am grateful for Emily, and I am grateful to be a mom, but I do all those things while looking over my shoulder. I am definitely not the once carefree, optimistic person I once was. I often feel like, if THIS could happen, anything can, and that scares the shit out of me. But, I would also say I am more appreciative, I snuggle Emily just a little longer, I play with her a little more. I remember exactly how it felt when I was at my absolute lowest, rock bottom. So pretty much any day this side of the ravine is a good day.
Before Kayla died, I was someone who didn't ever think of having a stillborn baby in 2013. I mean, I knew it happened, and I knew miscarriages happened and I believe I was aware of how common they were. But I had no idea stillbirth was so common. Each year in the US 23,600 babies will be born still, and it affects about 1 out of 160 pregnancies. I guess when it hasn't happened to you, that doesn't seem like a whole lot, considering live births equals about 3.9 million, making stillbirth about 1%. But when you're in that 1%, when you're that 1 out 160 women, it seems like way more.
I kind of thought stillbirth was something that happened in third world countries, or back in the 1800's. I had known of people who had miscarriages...friends of friends, acquaintances, friend's parents who lost a baby before or after my friend was born...but I had never known anyone, personally or casually that had a baby born sleeping.
Before we were even trying to get pregnant, I was out one night with my husband in his plow truck, and somehow we got on the subject of stillbirth, and how he had read about this hospital that gave women dolls to take home, because going home empty handed is so horrible. He said how they are allowed to hold them in the hospital, and rock them and bathe them (they're stillborn baby, not the doll). I remember thinking and saying that I don't think I would want to, or could hold the baby and do all of that, but I understood why someone would want to. But I also remember thinking how tragic that sounded...to go through the physical and emotional pain of labor and delivery, knowing your baby is gone and that you won't have him or her when it is all over. So before we lost Kayla, I was naive, yet still empathetic to something I hadn't, and never thought I would, experience. Which really makes me insane when people say rude things to me now, under the guise of just not understanding it or not having been there themselves. Yeah, maybe you have to experience something to really know, but you can still imagine that something is horrible without having first hand experience.
After....I am more reserved, scared, angry. I always thought I wanted two kids, and at one point I thought I would have three. There is a part of me that enjoys having just one living child, especially on nights like tonight when she is every bit of a bratty two-year old....but I would say the fear of another loss, not wanting to be greedy after being so lucky to have our rainbow, is the biggest reason we're not having any more. I am sure I would still have reservations, I am sure I would still be nervous that I don't know what I am getting into, but if we hadn't gone through all the loss and heartache that we did, I am quite certain we would have tried for one more after Emily.
I am angry, because...well, because my baby isn't here. I'm not sure how someone couldn't be angry over that. I'm fiercely protective of her and her memory. I am grateful for Emily, and I am grateful to be a mom, but I do all those things while looking over my shoulder. I am definitely not the once carefree, optimistic person I once was. I often feel like, if THIS could happen, anything can, and that scares the shit out of me. But, I would also say I am more appreciative, I snuggle Emily just a little longer, I play with her a little more. I remember exactly how it felt when I was at my absolute lowest, rock bottom. So pretty much any day this side of the ravine is a good day.
Sunday, October 23, 2016
Capture your grief, day 23
23. SOUNDS, SEASONS + SCENTS | There are reminders of our children everywhere. We find them in songs, in scents and different seasons. Share the things that bring you closer to your children. Feel free to share a song that reminds you of them.
Butterflies of course make me think of Kayla. Summer....July. Despite being born in March, July reminds me of her because for 5 months, I was looking forward to July, when we would bring her home. I envisioned walking around sweating and feeling like a whale in my last month of pregnancy, and summer birthday parties. I pictured her being so excited for her birthday because it also meant she would be on summer break. July represented the happy month she was supposed to come, whereas March represents the sad month she did come. I remember thinking when we were trying again after our loss, the thought of a different due date, and a different time of year made me sad. Because I didn't want a fall baby or a winter baby or a spring baby. I wanted a summer baby, I wanted that baby.
Her name....I hear her name every where. I never thought of Kayla as a super popular name. It's not really a classic name, nor a trendy name...it kind of just falls somewhere in the middle. I know how it goes, you never hear of something until you focus on it, then you hear it everywhere. I had a teacher in high school that said he thought of Elvis one day, and then every day after for months, he would hear something about Elvis almost every day. He never heard it before, because he wasn't paying attention to it.
Since we lost Kayla, I've heard the name a lot. There is another Kayla near her grave at the cemetery. She's a couple clients at work, she's waiting on us at a restaurant, she's a friend of a friend who just posted something on facebook. It makes sense, the whole theory that these things have always been around, you just notice them now because you're paying attention. But we had been paying attention to the name long before she was born, long before she was even conceived. Six years prior on my second date with my husband, he told me that he loved the name Kayla, and that if he ever has a little girl he wanted to name her that.
It didn't take long before we started talking about a future, about marriage, about kids. We often talked about baby Kayla whenever we would talk about our future children. He never ever talked about a future son, just a daughter, and we always called her Kayla when discussing children. If I wasn't feeling well, he would ask in a cute way, "is it Kayla"? So when the ultrasound tech said "this is a girl baby", I immediately turned my head to look at my husband, smiled and said "it's a Kayla"! So it strikes me as odd that we hear the name often since she was born, despite the fact that we had been paying attention to the name for six years prior to that. I rarely, if ever heard the name before she was born. It's like each time I hear it now, it's her, saying I'm here mama. I'm still here.
Butterflies of course make me think of Kayla. Summer....July. Despite being born in March, July reminds me of her because for 5 months, I was looking forward to July, when we would bring her home. I envisioned walking around sweating and feeling like a whale in my last month of pregnancy, and summer birthday parties. I pictured her being so excited for her birthday because it also meant she would be on summer break. July represented the happy month she was supposed to come, whereas March represents the sad month she did come. I remember thinking when we were trying again after our loss, the thought of a different due date, and a different time of year made me sad. Because I didn't want a fall baby or a winter baby or a spring baby. I wanted a summer baby, I wanted that baby.
Her name....I hear her name every where. I never thought of Kayla as a super popular name. It's not really a classic name, nor a trendy name...it kind of just falls somewhere in the middle. I know how it goes, you never hear of something until you focus on it, then you hear it everywhere. I had a teacher in high school that said he thought of Elvis one day, and then every day after for months, he would hear something about Elvis almost every day. He never heard it before, because he wasn't paying attention to it.
Since we lost Kayla, I've heard the name a lot. There is another Kayla near her grave at the cemetery. She's a couple clients at work, she's waiting on us at a restaurant, she's a friend of a friend who just posted something on facebook. It makes sense, the whole theory that these things have always been around, you just notice them now because you're paying attention. But we had been paying attention to the name long before she was born, long before she was even conceived. Six years prior on my second date with my husband, he told me that he loved the name Kayla, and that if he ever has a little girl he wanted to name her that.
It didn't take long before we started talking about a future, about marriage, about kids. We often talked about baby Kayla whenever we would talk about our future children. He never ever talked about a future son, just a daughter, and we always called her Kayla when discussing children. If I wasn't feeling well, he would ask in a cute way, "is it Kayla"? So when the ultrasound tech said "this is a girl baby", I immediately turned my head to look at my husband, smiled and said "it's a Kayla"! So it strikes me as odd that we hear the name often since she was born, despite the fact that we had been paying attention to the name for six years prior to that. I rarely, if ever heard the name before she was born. It's like each time I hear it now, it's her, saying I'm here mama. I'm still here.
Capture your grief, day 22
22. PEARLS OF WISDOM | Do you have any words of wisdom to share that you have found helpful? It could be from a writer, speaker, philosopher, maybe even a friend. Feel free to share quotes, poetry, song lyrics or just ideas. I invite you to share a message of hope for all the newly bereaved parents and loved ones out there.
One of the best thing I've heard from fellow loss moms is the idea that "it is ok to not be ok". I think too often we feel like we need to hurry up and grieve whatever our loss is, do our crying, get it out of our system and move on. Especially when it is a loss that is not talked about much in society, and when it was still during pregnancy and loss parents don't feel like they have permission to grieve, because some think "it wasn't a real baby" or you didn't even know the baby so what's to grieve about?
The simple but effective piece of advice is giving that permission, it is validating their loss and their feelings, and it is telling them that you're going to feel like shit, and that's ok. You don't have to be strong for anyone, you don't have to move on. Just take your feelings, your pain, your emptiness and just feel it. When people ask you how you're doing, you don't have to pretend to be ok, just to avoid making them feel uncomfortable.
I also like to tell newly bereaved parents that you will be able to breathe again. I'm honest, I won't say time heals all wounds, or that you'll be ok one day or that the pain will go away. It won't, and not all wounds close up. It just gets different, it becomes your new normal, and you learn to live with it. When Kayla died, I knew the routine. I had been through many losses before, I knew I always somehow made it through them, and was eventually "ok" on a day to day basis. But in those first few weeks and months, when you're at your absolute darkest, it is very hard to believe that. It's hard to see how you will ever make it out of that pitch black tunnel, with not even a hint of light at the end.
I knew I would be ok, I just didn't know how. This was a completely different loss than I had ever been through before. I could find no silver linings. This was not the natural order of life. I couldn't see that I could ever stop feeling the way I was right then. So when you're brand new to it all, right in the very thick of the raw emotions and utter pain, it helped me to talk to people who had been through it, to see that they had not been driven mad (at least not in a noticeable way to strangers) that they had not just crumbled into a million pieces, that they were eventually able to get out of bed and face the world, to move forward, to say their child's name without breaking down before the name even made it past their lips. Telling a bereaved parent that it is ok to not be ok, and that the pain will never go away, but you will some day be able to breathe again, to smile and laugh, is my way of being that light at the end of the tunnel for them. It's my way of showing that someone is waiting for them at the end, to help them out.
And of course, my favorite inspirational writing is by Angela Miller. To this day I still read it when I need a pick me up, and it still makes me cry, and it still speaks to me and it still makes me feel better.
I have to tell you this. You didn't fail. Not even a little.
You are not a horrible mother.
You did not chose this. You didn't want this to happen. You didn't do anything wrong. It just happened. To you. Despite your begging, pleading, praying, hoping against all hope that it would not. Even though everything within you was screaming no no no no no no no no no!!!!!!
God didn't do this to punish you, smite you, or to "teach you a lesson". That is not God's way. You could not have prevented this if you: 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 or any other way you tried to fill-in-the-blank. You could not have prevented this even if you could have predicted the future like no one can.
Even if you did nothing more, you are already the best mom there is because you would have done absolutely anything to keep your child alive. To breathe your last breath to save theirs. To choose the pain all over again just to spend one more minute with them. That, is the ultimate kind of love. You are the ultimate kind of mother.
So wash your hands of any naysayers, backstabbers, or anyone who sprinted the other direction when you needed them the most. Wash your hands of the people who may have falsely judged you, ostracized you, or stigmatized you because of what happened to you. Wash your hands of anyone who has made you feel less than by questioning everything you did or didn't do. Those whose words or looks have implied that this was somehow your fault.
This was not your fault. This will never be your fault, no matter how many different ways someone tries to tell you it is.
And especially if that someone happens to be you. Sometimes it's not what others are saying that keeps us shackled in shame. Sometimes we adopt others' misguided opinions and assumptions about our situation as our own. Sometimes it's our own inner voice that shoves us into the darkest corners of despair, like an abuser, telling us over and over and over again that we failed as mothers. That if only this and what if that, it would never have happened. That you woulda, shoulda, done this so your child would not have died. This is a lie of the sickest kind. Do not believe it, not even for a second. Do not let it sink into your bones. Do not let is smother that beautiful, beautiful light of yours.
Instead, breathe in this truth with every part of yourself. You are the best damn mother in the entire world.
The kind of mother people write books about. The kind that inspires the world.
No one else could do what you do. No one else could ever be your child's mother as well as you can, as well as you are. No one else could let your child's love and light shine through them the way you do. No one else could mother their dead child as well as you do. No one else could carry this unrelenting burden as courageously. It is the heaviest, most torturous burden there is.
You have within you a sacred strength. You are the mother of all mothers. There is no one, no one, no one that could ever, ever replace you. No one. You were chosen to be their mother. Yes-chosen. And no one could parent them better in life or in death than you do.
So breathe mama, keep breathing. Believe mama, keep believing. Fight mama, keep fighting, for this truth to uproot the lies in your heart-you didn't fail. You are not a failure. Not even a little.
For whatever it's worth, I see you. I hear you guttural sobs. I feel your ache deep inside my bones. And it doesn't make me uncomfortable to put my fingers as a makeshift baind-aid over the gaping hole in your heart until the scabs come, when and if they do.
It takes invincible strength to mother a child you can no longer hold, see, touch, or hear. You are a superhero mama. I see you fall down and get up, fall down and get up, over and over again. I notice the grits and guts it takes to pry yourself out of bed every single day and force your bloodied feet to stand up and keep walking. I see you walking this path of life you've been given where every breath and step apart from your child is a physical, emotional, and spiritual battleground- a fight for your own survival - a fight to quiet the insidious lies.
You are the mother of all mothers.
Truly the most inspiring, courageous, loving mother there is- a warrior mama through and through.
For even in their death you lovingly mother them still.
- June 26th, 2013 by Angela Miller
One of the best thing I've heard from fellow loss moms is the idea that "it is ok to not be ok". I think too often we feel like we need to hurry up and grieve whatever our loss is, do our crying, get it out of our system and move on. Especially when it is a loss that is not talked about much in society, and when it was still during pregnancy and loss parents don't feel like they have permission to grieve, because some think "it wasn't a real baby" or you didn't even know the baby so what's to grieve about?
The simple but effective piece of advice is giving that permission, it is validating their loss and their feelings, and it is telling them that you're going to feel like shit, and that's ok. You don't have to be strong for anyone, you don't have to move on. Just take your feelings, your pain, your emptiness and just feel it. When people ask you how you're doing, you don't have to pretend to be ok, just to avoid making them feel uncomfortable.
I also like to tell newly bereaved parents that you will be able to breathe again. I'm honest, I won't say time heals all wounds, or that you'll be ok one day or that the pain will go away. It won't, and not all wounds close up. It just gets different, it becomes your new normal, and you learn to live with it. When Kayla died, I knew the routine. I had been through many losses before, I knew I always somehow made it through them, and was eventually "ok" on a day to day basis. But in those first few weeks and months, when you're at your absolute darkest, it is very hard to believe that. It's hard to see how you will ever make it out of that pitch black tunnel, with not even a hint of light at the end.
I knew I would be ok, I just didn't know how. This was a completely different loss than I had ever been through before. I could find no silver linings. This was not the natural order of life. I couldn't see that I could ever stop feeling the way I was right then. So when you're brand new to it all, right in the very thick of the raw emotions and utter pain, it helped me to talk to people who had been through it, to see that they had not been driven mad (at least not in a noticeable way to strangers) that they had not just crumbled into a million pieces, that they were eventually able to get out of bed and face the world, to move forward, to say their child's name without breaking down before the name even made it past their lips. Telling a bereaved parent that it is ok to not be ok, and that the pain will never go away, but you will some day be able to breathe again, to smile and laugh, is my way of being that light at the end of the tunnel for them. It's my way of showing that someone is waiting for them at the end, to help them out.
And of course, my favorite inspirational writing is by Angela Miller. To this day I still read it when I need a pick me up, and it still makes me cry, and it still speaks to me and it still makes me feel better.
I have to tell you this. You didn't fail. Not even a little.
You are not a horrible mother.
You did not chose this. You didn't want this to happen. You didn't do anything wrong. It just happened. To you. Despite your begging, pleading, praying, hoping against all hope that it would not. Even though everything within you was screaming no no no no no no no no no!!!!!!
God didn't do this to punish you, smite you, or to "teach you a lesson". That is not God's way. You could not have prevented this if you: 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 or any other way you tried to fill-in-the-blank. You could not have prevented this even if you could have predicted the future like no one can.
Even if you did nothing more, you are already the best mom there is because you would have done absolutely anything to keep your child alive. To breathe your last breath to save theirs. To choose the pain all over again just to spend one more minute with them. That, is the ultimate kind of love. You are the ultimate kind of mother.
So wash your hands of any naysayers, backstabbers, or anyone who sprinted the other direction when you needed them the most. Wash your hands of the people who may have falsely judged you, ostracized you, or stigmatized you because of what happened to you. Wash your hands of anyone who has made you feel less than by questioning everything you did or didn't do. Those whose words or looks have implied that this was somehow your fault.
This was not your fault. This will never be your fault, no matter how many different ways someone tries to tell you it is.
And especially if that someone happens to be you. Sometimes it's not what others are saying that keeps us shackled in shame. Sometimes we adopt others' misguided opinions and assumptions about our situation as our own. Sometimes it's our own inner voice that shoves us into the darkest corners of despair, like an abuser, telling us over and over and over again that we failed as mothers. That if only this and what if that, it would never have happened. That you woulda, shoulda, done this so your child would not have died. This is a lie of the sickest kind. Do not believe it, not even for a second. Do not let it sink into your bones. Do not let is smother that beautiful, beautiful light of yours.
Instead, breathe in this truth with every part of yourself. You are the best damn mother in the entire world.
The kind of mother people write books about. The kind that inspires the world.
No one else could do what you do. No one else could ever be your child's mother as well as you can, as well as you are. No one else could let your child's love and light shine through them the way you do. No one else could mother their dead child as well as you do. No one else could carry this unrelenting burden as courageously. It is the heaviest, most torturous burden there is.
You have within you a sacred strength. You are the mother of all mothers. There is no one, no one, no one that could ever, ever replace you. No one. You were chosen to be their mother. Yes-chosen. And no one could parent them better in life or in death than you do.
So breathe mama, keep breathing. Believe mama, keep believing. Fight mama, keep fighting, for this truth to uproot the lies in your heart-you didn't fail. You are not a failure. Not even a little.
For whatever it's worth, I see you. I hear you guttural sobs. I feel your ache deep inside my bones. And it doesn't make me uncomfortable to put my fingers as a makeshift baind-aid over the gaping hole in your heart until the scabs come, when and if they do.
It takes invincible strength to mother a child you can no longer hold, see, touch, or hear. You are a superhero mama. I see you fall down and get up, fall down and get up, over and over again. I notice the grits and guts it takes to pry yourself out of bed every single day and force your bloodied feet to stand up and keep walking. I see you walking this path of life you've been given where every breath and step apart from your child is a physical, emotional, and spiritual battleground- a fight for your own survival - a fight to quiet the insidious lies.
You are the mother of all mothers.
Truly the most inspiring, courageous, loving mother there is- a warrior mama through and through.
For even in their death you lovingly mother them still.
- June 26th, 2013 by Angela Miller
Friday, October 21, 2016
Capture your grief, day 21
21. RELATIONSHIPS | How have your relationships changed? Did you lose any? Have you made new friendships?
Amazingly I did not lose any, I've actually gained some, and my current relationships actually got stronger, which I know all of the above is not common during any kind of tragedy. I know, I lost a few friends when my mom died. They either didn't know what to say to me and just dissapeared out of my life, or they gave me shitty advice and then acted like nothing happened.
But I think part of that had to do with the fact that I was 9 years older when I lost Kayla. I had fewer, but better, stronger friendships. My friends were people who were not going anywhere, and were there for me just like I knew they would be. I made new friends who had been through the same or similar losses. My one friend and I, we were online pregnancy buddies. We went through very similar early miscarriages, dealt with the same infertility struggle and at the same time sought treatment from an RE, and then got pregnant within two weeks of each other.
About a month before I lost Kayla, she lost her sweet baby...she had a feeling something wasn't right and went in for an ultrasound. Her worst fears were confirmed and she was told there was no heartbeat. Understandably, our friendship was put on hold because it was just too painful for her to hear about my then healthy pregnancy that was going well, especially once we too found out we were having a girl. After Kayla was born, she was one of the first people I messaged to share our devastating news, and we were once again going through very similar losses. I sometimes wonder if we were brought into each other's lives because of what we would go through, and to pick each other up, or to just listen to the other when we were at our lowest.
A couple months later, she got pregnant with her rainbow almost exactly one week before I found out I was pregnant with mine. It was so amazing to get to go through another pregnancy together....I was her rock on her hard days, and she was mine. We knew what each other was fearing and scared of, and we understood each other's small, but to us, huge victories like our betas doubling on time, and hearing the heartbeat, and getting past our early to mid second tri loss dates. Her rainbow was born March 11th, and mine came one week and one day later on March 19th. Though we've never met in person, I consider her to be one of my very close friends and I am not sure how I would have gotten through any of the past 4 years without her. We watch each others rainbows grow on facebook, ask each other mom questions, and remember each other's angels. She has since gone on to sadly have another early loss, and then got pregnant with her second rainbow, who was born this past summer. I was sad to not be pregnant again with her this time, but that just meant I was always emotionally able to help her on her hard days and she has always been supportive about my indecision, and then finally my decision to not try for any more kids.
I also became friends with a girl I went to high school with. We didn't really hang out in the same circles back then, but when I saw her at the one and only pregnancy loss support group I went to, we have since kept in touch via facebook. I hate that other people have gone and will continue to go through what we did, but it helps to not feel so alone, and it was nice to see a familiar face at that support group when I was so nervous about going and talk about such a painful thing. It's nice to know that I'm surrounded by others that know what I go through. I was also put in touch with another girl by a mutual acquaintance who lost her baby girl a year ago. It had been long enough since my loss that I was able to offer the support and guidance that others so kindly offered to me in the beginning. I hate that people constantly have to become a new member of this group, but I am so happy when they can find others who know what they've been through, and have come out the other side and are proof that one day, you will laugh, smile, and breath again without being in such constant pain.
The best relationship of all though is that with my husband. The death of a child, the worst loss two people could ever go through, so often tears them apart. It's such a hard loss to navigate and prepare for, nobody wants to think of this ever happening. Grandparents and parents, while we want them to live forever, we do know that they will eventually pass on. We always hope it is later rather than sooner, but when it does happen, it is at least the natural order of life. But no one ever expects to lose a child, or wants to think about the possibility of losing them. So when it happens, it's just inconceivable and it's so hard to deal with for yourself, let along trying to also be there for your spouse who is hurting just the same.
Next week we will be celebrating our 6th wedding anniversary, and we've been together for 9.5 years. Things haven't always been easy, we've had our ups and downs like any couple and lately we're finding ourselves on a path that has been difficult to navigate. But my husband was my rock when Kayla died. He was there for me, he held me up when I couldn't stand on my own, he supported me, held me while I cried, and never left my side. In a time when we should have been struggling to keep things together, we were stronger than ever, and I give him all the credit. A couple years ago, I went to the cemetery to visit her grave, and her stuffed animal was all wet and muddy and I just lost it. I sat in my car next to her grave and just cried my eyes out for about half an hour. Her teddy bear shouldn't have been sitting outside in the rain at a cemetery, it should have been clean and dry in her crib, with her. I hated that buying stuff for her grave was all I got to buy her. I finally calmed down and drove home, but when I walked in the door and saw my husband, I burst into tears again and fell into his arms. Marriage is hard, and not every day is good...some days it seems like a lot of days aren't good, but I will never forget how much he was there for me during that time, and he is the only other person on this planet that knows exactly how I feel about Kayla..
Amazingly I did not lose any, I've actually gained some, and my current relationships actually got stronger, which I know all of the above is not common during any kind of tragedy. I know, I lost a few friends when my mom died. They either didn't know what to say to me and just dissapeared out of my life, or they gave me shitty advice and then acted like nothing happened.
But I think part of that had to do with the fact that I was 9 years older when I lost Kayla. I had fewer, but better, stronger friendships. My friends were people who were not going anywhere, and were there for me just like I knew they would be. I made new friends who had been through the same or similar losses. My one friend and I, we were online pregnancy buddies. We went through very similar early miscarriages, dealt with the same infertility struggle and at the same time sought treatment from an RE, and then got pregnant within two weeks of each other.
About a month before I lost Kayla, she lost her sweet baby...she had a feeling something wasn't right and went in for an ultrasound. Her worst fears were confirmed and she was told there was no heartbeat. Understandably, our friendship was put on hold because it was just too painful for her to hear about my then healthy pregnancy that was going well, especially once we too found out we were having a girl. After Kayla was born, she was one of the first people I messaged to share our devastating news, and we were once again going through very similar losses. I sometimes wonder if we were brought into each other's lives because of what we would go through, and to pick each other up, or to just listen to the other when we were at our lowest.
A couple months later, she got pregnant with her rainbow almost exactly one week before I found out I was pregnant with mine. It was so amazing to get to go through another pregnancy together....I was her rock on her hard days, and she was mine. We knew what each other was fearing and scared of, and we understood each other's small, but to us, huge victories like our betas doubling on time, and hearing the heartbeat, and getting past our early to mid second tri loss dates. Her rainbow was born March 11th, and mine came one week and one day later on March 19th. Though we've never met in person, I consider her to be one of my very close friends and I am not sure how I would have gotten through any of the past 4 years without her. We watch each others rainbows grow on facebook, ask each other mom questions, and remember each other's angels. She has since gone on to sadly have another early loss, and then got pregnant with her second rainbow, who was born this past summer. I was sad to not be pregnant again with her this time, but that just meant I was always emotionally able to help her on her hard days and she has always been supportive about my indecision, and then finally my decision to not try for any more kids.
I also became friends with a girl I went to high school with. We didn't really hang out in the same circles back then, but when I saw her at the one and only pregnancy loss support group I went to, we have since kept in touch via facebook. I hate that other people have gone and will continue to go through what we did, but it helps to not feel so alone, and it was nice to see a familiar face at that support group when I was so nervous about going and talk about such a painful thing. It's nice to know that I'm surrounded by others that know what I go through. I was also put in touch with another girl by a mutual acquaintance who lost her baby girl a year ago. It had been long enough since my loss that I was able to offer the support and guidance that others so kindly offered to me in the beginning. I hate that people constantly have to become a new member of this group, but I am so happy when they can find others who know what they've been through, and have come out the other side and are proof that one day, you will laugh, smile, and breath again without being in such constant pain.
The best relationship of all though is that with my husband. The death of a child, the worst loss two people could ever go through, so often tears them apart. It's such a hard loss to navigate and prepare for, nobody wants to think of this ever happening. Grandparents and parents, while we want them to live forever, we do know that they will eventually pass on. We always hope it is later rather than sooner, but when it does happen, it is at least the natural order of life. But no one ever expects to lose a child, or wants to think about the possibility of losing them. So when it happens, it's just inconceivable and it's so hard to deal with for yourself, let along trying to also be there for your spouse who is hurting just the same.
Next week we will be celebrating our 6th wedding anniversary, and we've been together for 9.5 years. Things haven't always been easy, we've had our ups and downs like any couple and lately we're finding ourselves on a path that has been difficult to navigate. But my husband was my rock when Kayla died. He was there for me, he held me up when I couldn't stand on my own, he supported me, held me while I cried, and never left my side. In a time when we should have been struggling to keep things together, we were stronger than ever, and I give him all the credit. A couple years ago, I went to the cemetery to visit her grave, and her stuffed animal was all wet and muddy and I just lost it. I sat in my car next to her grave and just cried my eyes out for about half an hour. Her teddy bear shouldn't have been sitting outside in the rain at a cemetery, it should have been clean and dry in her crib, with her. I hated that buying stuff for her grave was all I got to buy her. I finally calmed down and drove home, but when I walked in the door and saw my husband, I burst into tears again and fell into his arms. Marriage is hard, and not every day is good...some days it seems like a lot of days aren't good, but I will never forget how much he was there for me during that time, and he is the only other person on this planet that knows exactly how I feel about Kayla..
Thursday, October 20, 2016
Capture your grief, day 20
20. GRATITUDE | Telling people to be grateful while they are grieving is kind of absurd. You cannot force a person to feel gratitude, just like you cannot force someone to feel forgiveness. You either feel it or you don’t. I remember when I started on this journey of grief, people always said count your blessings and be grateful for what you have. I remember wanting to scream in their faces! But I took note of what they were saying and I started keeping a gratitude journal. I started writing down anything I felt grateful for and before to long gratitude lifted me out of a dark pit of despair. What are thoughts about gratitude? Do you feel it and if so, share something you are grateful for
I think feeling gratitude in regards to the surrounding grief, it is a slippery slope. Feeling gratitude can be great, it can be uplifting, and it can give you a different perspective on things. It can, as Carly Marie said, give you strength to be pulled out of rock bottom. But expecting or being expected to feel gratitude in an attempt to take away your sadness is, I think, unrealistic, unfair, and quite frankly ridiculous.
I am finding that grief, and the person/thing/experience you're grieving over are their own entity and cannot be taken away from. One's feelings about grief are not made better or worse, by anyone else's feelings or experiences. For example, I told my MIL that I sometimes struggle with my grief over Kayla, because I lost her in pregnancy. I often feel like I am not a "real" loss parent, because I think the world views it as not having lost a "real child". Even I sometimes feel like I should not be allowed to feel as sad, because I do think losing an already here, in the flesh, that you can hold, living, breathing outside of your womb child would be so much harder.
I especially have that opinion because I HAVE dealt with losing Kayla and I somehow survived, but I am absolutely convinced losing Emily would just crush me beyond comprehension and I would not even be able to get out of bed, ever. I mean of course it would, but before I lost Kayla, I am certain imagining that loss would be something I couldn't comprehend, and couldn't imagine going through and coming out the other side, relatively intact. Before my mom died when I was 25, I probably never thought I could make it through that, and sit here 12 years later, ok. I miss her, God I miss her. But I am living my life, I get out of bed each morning, I remember her with smile, and I do not cry every second of the day. I do not even cry everyday, or even every month for my mom. I am sure if I thought about losing her before I actually did, I would have been sure that even 12 years later, I would still be completely broken without her.
It's like the saying, "you have no idea how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have". Pain isn't relative. Pain is pain. When I lost Kayla, I was devastated beyond words. I was at a loss for how this was happening. It was inconceivable to me. I worried about it all the time, I was very nervous during my pregnancy, but still, when it happened, I just couldn't believe it. I worried that it would happen, but I never actually thought that it would. Sitting there in the days after, no longer pregnant, knowing I would not be bringing my baby home in 4 months, my pain was not lessened by the knowledge that she could have been born in July, been carried to term, healthy and happy, and then something terrible could have happened to her. Thinking of worse things, does not lessen the pain you are currently in.
My MIL lost her first husband when they were very young, I think about 20, and they had a baby girl who was less than a year old when he died. She was young, now alone with her daughter, and the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with was gone. She questioned...was it harder for her, being so young and thinking they had their whole lives ahead of them...or was it harder for that couple that had been married for 60 years, had spent every single day together, had a family together, and had been with that person for more years of their life than they had been without them. The answer is, there is no "harder" scenario, just different. My MIL did not miss her husband any less, just because some people have been with their spouse for more years. She was not "ok" with her loss, just because other people experience a different loss.
So I feel like expecting someone to be grateful for what they DO have, and subsequently being less bereaved because of those things is like saying "at least" in a tragedy. There is no at least. No one should expect me to feel better about my loss, because "at least" I wasn't further along. Or, "at least" I didn't have her nursery all ready, expecting to go to the hospital to give birth and bring her home. No parent should grieve less for their child, because they "at least" have other children.
However, feeling gratitude in is own entity, completely separate from my loss, absolutely. I feel gratitude all the time. I was grateful to have my husband, who was so supportive when we lost Kayla. I don't feel it was particularly healthy for him, but he put his own grief aside and he was my rock. He was there for me to lean on when I couldn't stand on my own. I do hope he has been able to somehow grieve on his own, and at a time when he knew I didn't need him to help me through it as much, because I think that is when tragedies like this tear people apart, when both people are grieving at the same time, and there is no one for the other to lean on. I can only hope I was there somehow to be his rock when he needed me to be, like he was for me.
I was grateful for my doctors. They weren't just medical professionals in charge of getting my baby out and keeping me safe. They cared, they were heart broken, and I know they still think of my girl. Of course not all the time; they've had hundreds of patients over the years....but I am sure there are times when a name, or some other memory will make them think of us, and think of our sweet girl. I send them a Christmas card with Emily's picture on it every year, so surely they think back for a moment to when she was born, and think of Kayla as well. On that same token, I was grateful for our nurses. They were all amazing, and I know they all cared. It wasn't just a job, they grieved with us.
I was grateful for our family. They were there by our side, they love and miss Kayla too....for our parents, not only did they lose a granddaughter that they were so excited to meet and join our family, but they had to see their babies in pain and hurting too. As a parent, I now know how awful that is to see your babies hurting and not being able to do anything to take away their pain. But they were there for us, they put their own grief aside to love and care for us just like we were their helpless babies again. They keep Kayla's memory alive, they include her in the count of their grandchildren. They buy her things, and participate in ways to remember her. I am very grateful for them.
I am grateful for our friends. They didn't freeze up and freak out, not knowing what to do. They didn't say, let me know if I can do anything, or ask if they should come. They just came to be with us, and held our hands. They mourned our sweet baby, and they were there for us again the following year when we were back in the hospital for a happier occasion. They knew just how huge this was for us, as it is for any parent welcoming a new baby, but they knew the long road we had traveled to get there and there were so happy for us.
I am grateful for Emily. I am grateful that I got another chance to hold a child of mine in my arms and take her home as I know so many parents aren't given that chance. I am grateful for every time she makes me smile and laugh. I am grateful for her perfect little face, that undoubtedly looks so much like her big sister's. She will never replace Kayla, she will never take away all of the pain, but I feel like by having another little girl, I was given a small glimpse into the life I didn't get with Kayla. Emily is her own person, and we love her so much, but I somehow feel like having another girl was meant to be, it was a gift and I am so grateful for it.
I think feeling gratitude in regards to the surrounding grief, it is a slippery slope. Feeling gratitude can be great, it can be uplifting, and it can give you a different perspective on things. It can, as Carly Marie said, give you strength to be pulled out of rock bottom. But expecting or being expected to feel gratitude in an attempt to take away your sadness is, I think, unrealistic, unfair, and quite frankly ridiculous.
I am finding that grief, and the person/thing/experience you're grieving over are their own entity and cannot be taken away from. One's feelings about grief are not made better or worse, by anyone else's feelings or experiences. For example, I told my MIL that I sometimes struggle with my grief over Kayla, because I lost her in pregnancy. I often feel like I am not a "real" loss parent, because I think the world views it as not having lost a "real child". Even I sometimes feel like I should not be allowed to feel as sad, because I do think losing an already here, in the flesh, that you can hold, living, breathing outside of your womb child would be so much harder.
I especially have that opinion because I HAVE dealt with losing Kayla and I somehow survived, but I am absolutely convinced losing Emily would just crush me beyond comprehension and I would not even be able to get out of bed, ever. I mean of course it would, but before I lost Kayla, I am certain imagining that loss would be something I couldn't comprehend, and couldn't imagine going through and coming out the other side, relatively intact. Before my mom died when I was 25, I probably never thought I could make it through that, and sit here 12 years later, ok. I miss her, God I miss her. But I am living my life, I get out of bed each morning, I remember her with smile, and I do not cry every second of the day. I do not even cry everyday, or even every month for my mom. I am sure if I thought about losing her before I actually did, I would have been sure that even 12 years later, I would still be completely broken without her.
It's like the saying, "you have no idea how strong you are, until being strong is the only choice you have". Pain isn't relative. Pain is pain. When I lost Kayla, I was devastated beyond words. I was at a loss for how this was happening. It was inconceivable to me. I worried about it all the time, I was very nervous during my pregnancy, but still, when it happened, I just couldn't believe it. I worried that it would happen, but I never actually thought that it would. Sitting there in the days after, no longer pregnant, knowing I would not be bringing my baby home in 4 months, my pain was not lessened by the knowledge that she could have been born in July, been carried to term, healthy and happy, and then something terrible could have happened to her. Thinking of worse things, does not lessen the pain you are currently in.
My MIL lost her first husband when they were very young, I think about 20, and they had a baby girl who was less than a year old when he died. She was young, now alone with her daughter, and the man she thought she would spend the rest of her life with was gone. She questioned...was it harder for her, being so young and thinking they had their whole lives ahead of them...or was it harder for that couple that had been married for 60 years, had spent every single day together, had a family together, and had been with that person for more years of their life than they had been without them. The answer is, there is no "harder" scenario, just different. My MIL did not miss her husband any less, just because some people have been with their spouse for more years. She was not "ok" with her loss, just because other people experience a different loss.
So I feel like expecting someone to be grateful for what they DO have, and subsequently being less bereaved because of those things is like saying "at least" in a tragedy. There is no at least. No one should expect me to feel better about my loss, because "at least" I wasn't further along. Or, "at least" I didn't have her nursery all ready, expecting to go to the hospital to give birth and bring her home. No parent should grieve less for their child, because they "at least" have other children.
However, feeling gratitude in is own entity, completely separate from my loss, absolutely. I feel gratitude all the time. I was grateful to have my husband, who was so supportive when we lost Kayla. I don't feel it was particularly healthy for him, but he put his own grief aside and he was my rock. He was there for me to lean on when I couldn't stand on my own. I do hope he has been able to somehow grieve on his own, and at a time when he knew I didn't need him to help me through it as much, because I think that is when tragedies like this tear people apart, when both people are grieving at the same time, and there is no one for the other to lean on. I can only hope I was there somehow to be his rock when he needed me to be, like he was for me.
I was grateful for my doctors. They weren't just medical professionals in charge of getting my baby out and keeping me safe. They cared, they were heart broken, and I know they still think of my girl. Of course not all the time; they've had hundreds of patients over the years....but I am sure there are times when a name, or some other memory will make them think of us, and think of our sweet girl. I send them a Christmas card with Emily's picture on it every year, so surely they think back for a moment to when she was born, and think of Kayla as well. On that same token, I was grateful for our nurses. They were all amazing, and I know they all cared. It wasn't just a job, they grieved with us.
I was grateful for our family. They were there by our side, they love and miss Kayla too....for our parents, not only did they lose a granddaughter that they were so excited to meet and join our family, but they had to see their babies in pain and hurting too. As a parent, I now know how awful that is to see your babies hurting and not being able to do anything to take away their pain. But they were there for us, they put their own grief aside to love and care for us just like we were their helpless babies again. They keep Kayla's memory alive, they include her in the count of their grandchildren. They buy her things, and participate in ways to remember her. I am very grateful for them.
I am grateful for our friends. They didn't freeze up and freak out, not knowing what to do. They didn't say, let me know if I can do anything, or ask if they should come. They just came to be with us, and held our hands. They mourned our sweet baby, and they were there for us again the following year when we were back in the hospital for a happier occasion. They knew just how huge this was for us, as it is for any parent welcoming a new baby, but they knew the long road we had traveled to get there and there were so happy for us.
I am grateful for Emily. I am grateful that I got another chance to hold a child of mine in my arms and take her home as I know so many parents aren't given that chance. I am grateful for every time she makes me smile and laugh. I am grateful for her perfect little face, that undoubtedly looks so much like her big sister's. She will never replace Kayla, she will never take away all of the pain, but I feel like by having another little girl, I was given a small glimpse into the life I didn't get with Kayla. Emily is her own person, and we love her so much, but I somehow feel like having another girl was meant to be, it was a gift and I am so grateful for it.
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