Saturday, December 31, 2011

Well, it's the official end of 2011. It's definitely not how I thought it would end. I figured I'd be up nursing a newborn, waiting for the ball to drop. I keep waiting to wake up on January 1st and have someone tell me that this is all just a horrible dream. I'll wake up and look beside the bed, and see Nathan sleeping in a bassinet. I saw a friend's posting today. She delivered her baby boy yesterday... on Nathan's official due date. I couldn't help the sinking feeling in my stomach and quickening of my heart. Seeing the pictures of her adorable little boy... that should be me. The picture of her older son wearing the big brother shirt and smiling with pride... that should have been Cameron. (big sigh) But it's not. I don't know that I'll ever get to a place where I'll be able to let go of the "should be's". I think my mind will always wonder what should've been.

I got an amazing gift in the mail Thursday, the day before Nathan's due date. A gift that I really needed. I volunteered to work on Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday of last week. I worked 1st shift, with people from all three shifts... who also volunteered. For some reason, most of the talk was about babies. (Yes, this is my life now. The girl who silently endures baby talk and cries on the inside.) I had a co-worker ask if I'd heard that she was expecting. I said, "No, I didn't. Congratulations." She said, "I cried. I'm not ready for another baby. My daughter isn't even one yet." Okay, she's entitled to her feelings but why would she feel the need to tell me that? If she's looking for sympathy for her feelings... she's out of luck. I can't give any. I'm crying because I'm not pregnant and my child is dead.

Anyway, I came home Thursday... so glad for the week to be over and ready to get past December 30th. I noticed a box on the kitchen counter. I opened it up and was instantly overwhelmed with emotion. I stood in the kitchen and just cried, as I read the letter enclosed. (I still get teary eyed typing this, thinking about it.) I haven't even been able to blog about it or thank her. (I guess I need to at least email and let her know I did receive it, huh?) I received the package from another baby loss mom, "N". A mom who, over the last several months, has become a cherished friend. A friend who lives on the opposite side of the country. For some reason, the women that I connect with and become friends with online... all live miles and miles away. In a way, it makes me sad because the chances that I will ever meet these wonderful women, in person, is slim. :-(

I was touched, honored and blessed at the thought behind the package. When I looked inside, I found a beautiful, handwritten letter explaining the items enclosed. She has been blessed to be stationed in a beautiful place surrounded by islands. She has a special, quiet place that she goes to when she needs to be alone and think about her babies. Since I can't be there with her, she wanted to give me a small piece of her place. She sent me pebbles, rocks and sticks from the beach.


It cracks me up to read this because if you had seen me trying to get that paper out of the vase, you would've been on the floor laughing. I had the end of two forks, trying to grasp it, without knocking the vase over. I tried everything I could think of. It took me a good 10 minutes to get it out. LOL


I told Allen that I'd like to save up the money to buy a glass curio cabinet. I never thought I'd ever have many things for Nathan but I'm gathering quite the collection. I went to place this box on his shelf, in my bedroom, and found myself telling him (Nathan) that I'd have to get him a new place to put all his things, so they could be displayed.


I thought it was so cool that I could still smell the ocean on the stick. I "plugged" the vase with a piece of tissue... hoping that I'll be able to hold onto the smell a bit longer.


On the way back to her car, she saw this rock. It looks like a half of a heart. She said she thought of Nathan and I, when she saw it. I like to think that Nathan placed it there for her to find. I have one half and the other half is floating in the Pacific ocean somewhere. I can't see the other half, just like I can't see Nathan... but I know it (and he) is out there somewhere just waiting to find me and my half of the heart rock. ♥



Here's the picture she took during her Christmas vacation. I was so touched that she remembered my sweet boy...


I really wish I wasn't a part of this "Baby Loss Club" but since I am... I'm AMAZINGLY blessed to have met some wonderful people on this journey. They will never know the impact they've made, not only in my life... but the life of my husband and family also. I received an ornament and card, through an ornament exchange, I signed up for back in November. I think reading the note that mom sent me and reading the letter "N" sent me, my husband has really started to understand where I'm coming from and what I need (as far as support).

This is what I posted on my Facebook page tonight...


Dear Family and Friends,

I know that this year has been a difficult one for many of us. I pray that the pain and heartache of 2011 will be washed away. With a new year approaching, my hope is that your life will be filled with love, good health and the blessing of good friends. I pray that illnesses with be healed, hearts will be a little less broken, and that family and friends will make peace with each other. Life is much too short. Live it full and without regrets, whenever possible.

With much love,
Crystal ♥

Strange

I had the weirdest thing happen last night. The dog got a hold of Nathan's stocking and chewed it. I was so mad and upset. Allen told me not to be, that we needed to get him a real stocking anyway (like ours). He said we'd have him an embroidered one, like ours, for next year. That's what I wanted for this year but just didn't have a chance to get it. However, that's not the point. The point is that that was his first stocking... Cameron and I made it for his first Christmas. (I did the glue and Cameron did the glitter.) All of our stockings have been hanging for a couple weeks now. I have no clue why Max decided to get it and why only Nathan's.


Anyway, I was going to throw it away and then thought... no. Even if it's messed up, it's still his. I folded it and placed it on "his" bookshelf, where his urn and memory box are. When I went to bed last night, it was laying on my bed. It was on my side, towards the foot of the bed. Cameron couldn't have reached it and Allen doesn't go on that side of the room and he doesn't mess with Nathan's stuff.

I picked it up and put it back on the shelf and kissed Nathan's urn, like I do every night. I'm perplexed as to how it got there.

Sunday, December 25, 2011

Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas, Nathan! ♥♥♥ I can only imagine how wonderful it is celebrating your 1st Christmas and Jesus' birthday with your PawPaw, uncles, cousin and other family members in Heaven. (Nathan's Christmas Tree was written in the sand by CarlyMarie on Christian's Beach at Mullaloo Point in Western Australia. http://namesinthesand.blogspot.com)

Saturday, December 24, 2011

Crappy Day

This sucks. I'm so pissed. I can't even stop to tears today. They flow without caring that I don't want them. I'm so tired of feeling like this. I want an easy button. Where's that damn Staples commercial when you need it?!?! I don't know that I even have the energy or willpower to try and fake it today.

I'm trying so hard to get through this crap without letting it completely destroy my family... but man, it's hard. Somehow in the last five months, we've gone from a pretty happy... not perfect, Hallmark happy... but happy enough family to one that is snappy and depressing.

Cameron has been horrible the last couple weeks. I realize part of it may be is age and a phase that he's going through. However, I think the majority of it is coming from everything going on around him. I try so hard not to cry and be sad around him but I'm not a very good actress. I can't pretend that everything is fabulous 24/7. I have my moments of weakness. Unfortunately, here lately those moments have appeared when Cameron is acting out and my patience is thin. I've turned into a horrible mom. I can't but wonder if it's why God took Nathan... because he saw that I wouldn't be a very good mom to 2 children. Maybe he saw that I wouldn't have had enough patience, time or attention. I feel so much like I'm being punished. Trouble is... I don't know what I've done that's bad enough to deserve this.

I know Allen is hurting, in his own weird way. He's lost a lot this year also. Even though he didn't see Nathan... he still lost a son. He's lost a part of his wife. He sits by and has to watch me go through this. He's lost his dad. He's having to watch his mom, grieve and miss him. I can't imagine how helpless he must feel, knowing that there isn't a damn thing he can do for either of us.

This is not how it was supposed to be. We aren't bad people. We don't deserve this. Not that anyone does... but today I'm being selfish and this post is about me and my family.

Thursday, December 22, 2011

What Now?

Well, it's officially December 22nd. I survived. I'm still breathing. The world didn't stop just because he isn't here. What was supposed to be Nathan's special day has come and gone. What now? What the hell am I supposed to do now? I don't know where to go from here.

It wasn't as bad as I thought it was going to be. I was mostly numb. Right now, as I'm typing this... it's the first time I've cried since I woke up December 21st. I knew what the day was and, of course, throughout the entire day... I would catch myself thinking, "I'd be out of the OR by now"... "I'd be holding him right now"... We would've already introduced him to Cameron by now". As I was eating dinner, all I could think about was the fact that I should be eating hospital food.

I'm blank... my mind is blank. I honestly, have no clue where to go from here. I wasn't even sure about coming on here and blogging tonight because there is absolutely nothing on my mind other than a huge question mark.

I miss him so much but I realized, as the clock struck midnight a little while ago, nothing is going to bring him back. There will never be a date or milestone or anniversary where anything is going to change. He is gone forever. That stabs my heart like a knife. I mean, it isn't like I didn't already know that, but I guess just the finality of getting past all the "milestones" and past his due dates... makes it really real.

We stayed mostly low key today... hanging out around the house. Cameron has been fighting a cold and today he was just NOT listening. I was trying so hard not to yell or snap at him because I didn't want to take my sadness and mood out on him. As much as he probably didn't deserve it, because of his ugly behavior, we took him to Build-A-Bear. When we first got pregnant, we told him that once we found out the sex of the baby... he could build it a bear. We were walking through the mall one day, after we'd lost Nathan, and he saw the BAB store. He asked if he could still build his brother a bear, even though he wasn't here with us. We said yes, that we'd take him later. I told Allen that I wanted to take him on Nathan's "special day"... December 21st. So, off we went today. Before I came on here, I actually went in his room to check on him. He's got his bear snuggled up beside him. I wish I could get a picture without waking him up... it's cute.

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I'll post more about finishing up our tree and all in another post. It's after 2am... and I have to be up for my therapy appointment at 9am. She broke her knee so it's been awhile since I've had a session. We shall see where all this goes, I guess...

Wednesday, December 21, 2011

5 Months

Today should've been so different. Today was the day Nathan should've been born. Instead, today marks his 5 month angelversary. Thank you so much to everyone for all the thoughts and prayers today. They were very much needed and sincerely appreciated.

My sweet Nathan, I love you and I miss you! I wish so badly that today was the day I was holding you in my arms for the first time. Even though we go on each day, trying to adjust to this new normal... don't think for one second that you will ever be forgotten. Every smile, every laugh... they will be for you. I will try my best to make you proud and make new memories and enjoy new experiences, since you can't. On my bad days, when I missing you even more, I will close my eyes and remember holding you. That is a gift that I will forever be thankful for... the chance to hold you and tell you how much you were loved and wanted. Love forever and always, Mommy ♥

Monday, December 19, 2011

The Week

Since it's after midnight... here it is. "The" week. The week I've been dreading since that horrible day I heard myself ask, "You can't find a heartbeat can you?" The tears are forming as I type this. Thinking about it is one thing. Typing it, speaking it... makes it real. I knew this week would come but now that it's here... I just don't know... the words are lost on me. I've been unsure of how I'm going to feel and muddle through it. Even now, I don't know how I'm going to manage the week. I guess just one minute at a time, one day at a time.

I've been "counting" down to this week and now that it's here and I know I won't be bringing a baby home... I don't know what to do with the feelings surrounding the "anticipation" of the week. Even after losing him, I didn't know what to do with the "countdown". Its like New Year's Eve. You know that nothing is really going to change when the clocks strikes midnight... but you count down anyway. I've known since July that nothing was going to change but I still countdown. I still look at the calendar every Friday and know that I should be "X" weeks pregnant. I suppose, come January, I will begin the "birthday count"... my son should be "X" days/weeks/months/years old now. For the rest of my life, I will have a child missing. For the rest of my life, I will be counting for a little boy who never will.

This week should have been the week my son was born. This is my pregnancy ticker today. It's not public and hasn't been since I lost Nathan. I did keep it active though, on the Liliypie website.


Friday should've been my last day of work. That detail hit me as I caught a glimpse of the calendar on my locker at work, as I was leaving. It was a little bit emotional pulling out of the parking lot Friday night, thinking about it. Even though Nathan's official due date was December 30th... I think I'll always consider December 21st his due date. I should be preparing for my scheduled c-section this coming Wednesday. My son should've been entering the world on Wednesday, December 21, 2011. My OB and I discussed the options and were going to finalize the "plan" as I got closer to my due date. He said they don't normally induce or schedule c-sections before 39 weeks. However, with the Christmas holiday... he said they'd be able to "play" with the dates. I told him I wanted December 21st for a few reasons. Allen was born on August 21 and Cameron was born on February 21. I like that all "my guys" are 21sters. (Little did I know, Nathan would still end up a 21ster... just not December.)

I figured if I had him on the 21st... we'd be out of the hospital and home in time for Christmas. What would be better than waking up Christmas morning with an almost 4 year old and 4 day old in my arms? Oh, what I wouldn't give to have that be a reality. Instead, I'll plaster on a smile and try to make happy memories with my older son on Christmas morning. I will swallow the pain and heartache of missing Nathan. I will put my feelings aside for my surviving child. I will swallow the lump in my throat, hold back the tears... and smile as I "ohhh" and "ahhh" over my precious Cameron. When I think of all I've lost this year... I can't help but think of all he's lost. My heart breaks almost as much for him as for myself. He has had a really tough year, since July. A three year shouldn't have to go through as much as he has. He's lost his little brother, a part of his mommy and his PawPaw... all within the last 4 months or so.

We've had to say goodbye to 2 people this year. Having to say goodbye to my son in July, and then again, to my father-in-law (who I've known since I was 14) in December... really makes me question life. The older I get, I find myself aware of the fact that I've turned into my mom and that she has turned into my grandmother. Before long, I'll turn around and find myself in the grandmother position... closer to death. It really makes me question what my purpose is here... while I'm alive and on this Earth. I used to be terrified of death. While, I'm not in a hurry to expire... I don't fear it like I used to. It brings me a sense of comfort to know that my son is waiting for me, when it's my time to join him. (I am going to send an angel in front of you, to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared. - Exodus 23:20) Part of me doesn't really care about my purpose because, really... I have no control over it anyway. THAT is the part I struggle with. I used to have this fabulous illusion that life was what I made it. How naive was I? I see other people, living their lives, blissfully unaware how just how quick it can all go wrong. I'm jealous of them. I've been where they are and I miss it. Sadly, my experience will never allow me that blindness again. I am forever changed.

I will forever be the mom of two boys. It's sad to think of how different the future will be for them. THIS is what I don't think people understand. When you lose a baby, it's not just for that moment or that year. It's forever. You lose all of the "what if's" and all the dreams for the future with that child.

I will watch one son grow up. I held him in my arms the day he was born and promised to love him until the day I die. I saw his first smile, first steps and first birthday. I'll see him off on his first day of Kindergarten. I'll cringe and worry when he gets his first set of car keys. I'll watch with tears and pride as he graduates high school and, hopefully, college. I will cut the strings and try to bravely let go as he ventures out into the world. Perhaps, he'll marry and have children someday. These are all things I look forward to when I think of Cameron.

When I think of Nathan, I think of all of those exact same things. The difference is in the wording. There is only one sentence, in bold, that is the same as Cameron's.

I will never watch one son grow up. I held him in my arms the day he was born and promised to love him until the day I die. I'll never see his first smile, first steps and first birthday. I'll never see him off on his first day of Kindergarten. I'll never cringe and worry when he gets his first set of car keys. I'll never watch with tears and pride as he graduates high school and, hopefully, college. I will never be able to cut the strings and try to bravely let go as he ventures out into the world. He'll never marry and have children someday.

I can't believe it's been almost 5 months since I held him. God, how I miss him. I wish so badly I could go back to that night. I would take the pain and heartache all over again, just to hold him and tell him I love him. I dread this milestone but I pray that getting past it will be one step closer to healing. I know that this hole in my heart will never be completely gone but slowly, Lord... I hope and pray... slowly it will get smaller.

Sunday, December 18, 2011

Dealing with Loss

I've been struggling, in my mind, over the last few weeks. I'll go over, in my head, what I want to blog about but by the time I'm actually in front of the computer... the notions are gone and my mind is elsewhere. I struggle to keep up with my thoughts and emotions here lately. They change, bounce and jump so fast. I never know how I'm going to feel from one minute to the next. (Hence the reason I tend to jump around with my blogging also. Sorry!) I can be having a "good" day and the smallest thing can trigger my emotions. I hate how this feels. It sucks. This is NOT who I am... this is NOT who I want to be. I would give anything to go back to being that naive girl on July 18, 2011. I do NOT want to be grieving. I wish I could just simply miss my son... without all the other crap that comes with grieving the loss a baby during pregnancy. The need to explain how I feel, why I feel, etc. The guilt, the emotions... all of it. I truly wonder, sometimes, if this is a tiny bit of how it feels to have multiple personalities.

Part of me feels like people think I'm obsessing and need to "get over it" and then part of me, doesn't really care what they think. There is NO possible way to make someone understand how horrible this is. It's a nightmare place to be. I want someone to know what I'm going through because I don't want to be the only one going through it. I don't want to be alone. But on the flip side, I don't want anyone to understand because this is something I wouldn't wish on anyone. I wish nobody else had to endure this pain and heartache.

I've been following along with the many news stories, etc... on the loss of the Duggars 20th baby. A little girl that they named Jubilee. Reading articles like the one TMZ wrote and seeing all the horrible comments people have been posting... it's no wonder some of us feel like "freaks" and hold our pain and loss inside. Society is not kind to people like us... people who've lost a baby.

But then I read articles like the ones below, and it validates my feelings. Yes, it's okay to grieve and miss my son however I need to. What seems morbid or obsessive to some, may be just what someone else needs to heal. I wish the whole world would read these articles and then maybe, just maybe... we could begin to heal PUBLICLY! Our baby's brief lives would be validated and we could focus on healing instead of trying to make people acknowledge our loss. These are great articles about miscarriage and what we can learn from the Duggar's recent loss. I hope that someday all women feel they can openly grieve the loss of their babies (at any gestation). Miscarriage should not be something that families have to deal with privately, with no support. It does not have to be a silent grief.

* Learning from Michelle Duggar
* Why did the Duggars photograph a stillborn baby?
* Open Letter to the Duggars

Wednesday, December 14, 2011

Pregnant Women

I really wish I could get to a place of peace, resolution or whatever. I hate feeling like this but I don't know how to stop. I thought I was having a pretty decent day today. I stopped and got something to eat on the way to work this afternoon. I was standing there, waiting for my food, when I looked up and noticed a woman (facing away from me) sliding out of her booth. She looked like any other person... until she stood up and turned around. BOOM... big, huge belly. I mean she looked like she was ready to deliver. I just looked up at the ceiling and was like 'Really, God? I needed that reminder. Thanks.' :-( Then, I was at work tonight and a co-worker (who is expecting a boy in early May) was standing in front of me, while I was talking to another co-worker (who she was standing beside of). She stood there rubbing her belly the ENTIRE time. I realize that it may have been out of habit or unintentional... but it really irritated me. It was like 'Really?!?! Do I need a reminder slapped in my face that YOU are pregnant!?!?!' (At about the same gestation I was when I lost Nathan, as a matter of fact.) I realize that the world is full of pregnant people and I have to learn to live with that. I just wish it didn't hurt so much to see them. It makes me wonder... how many times, when I was pregnant with my older son and/or Nathan, did I pass a mother who was grieving for her baby? How many women looked at my pregnant belly and happy smile and cried inside? It really makes you think about the people you pass or come in contact with. How many people did I see or pass today... who are experiencing the worst day of their life?

Monday, December 12, 2011

Tough Day

It's been a really tough day. It feels like everything is crumbling around me. My father-in-law just passed away on December 7th. My mother-in-law is struggling. After 50 years of marriage, she is alone and heartbroken. Last night was her first night alone. My sister-in-law has stayed with her since my father-in-law passed but has returned home. She slept on the couch at her house last night and has cried off and on all day today. I feel so helpless. Nathan was supposed to be born on December 21st via scheduled c-section and I was supposed to have my remaining tube tied. He was supposed to be our last baby. I should be opening gifts on Christmas morning with an almost 4 year old and a 4 day old. We haven't bought a tree or decorated. We've bought some gifts for our older son but anything beyond that... I think is going to be a stretch. Nathan's original due date was December 30th. My mom is having eye surgery tomorrow. She is going to have to stay face down for 10 days afterwards. I'm struggling with Nathan's dates coming up, my father-in-law's passing, my mom having to rely on me for everything, working, taking care of my older son, being there for my husband, etc... I will be so glad when January gets here. I'm praying that next year will be a better year.

Friday, December 9, 2011

Surrounded by Death

I feel like I'm surrounded by death. My father-in-law got to meet Nathan in Heaven on Wednesday morning. He passed away a little after 3am. We are having the viewing tomorrow, well... today since it's after midnight. The funeral is going to be Saturday. I'm exhausted so I'm going to make this posting quick. I know I haven't mentioned much about him being sick so I'll go into details in a later post.

Allen and I have been talking today and I have to say... I am honestly as peace with his decision to not be there and see Nathan. He went into detail today, as to why he made that decision. My husband amazes me more and more everyday. I love him so very much. I don't think he'll ever know how much today's conversation meant to me.

Today was very emotional. I went and bought Cameron's yearly ornament... so I went ahead and looked for something for Nathan. I couldn't help it... the tears starting falling before I could stop them when I saw the Baby's 1st Christmas ornaments. I couldn't help but think "Those are the ones I should be buying!" I looked and didn't see anything I liked. Hallmark really doesn't make an ornament for Baby's 1st Christmas in Heaven. I was almost ready to just say forget it. I was walking to the register to check out and I saw the Snowbabies and Precious Moments shelves. I went over to look and saw his ornament. It's an Angel Snowbaby with a star holding a little sign that says "2011". It has a small bird on its shoulder. My mother-in-law said she wanted a bird ornament to remember my father-in-law because like a bird... he is now free. (Cameron picked out a blue bird one for her.) I couldn't believe how perfect this ornament was. It's got both of them (Nathan and Richard) together! I was crying and so upset by the experience, I grabbed the bag and walked out of the store and forgot to sign the receipt. The lady had the "chase" me down in the mall "hall" outside the store to sign it.

Sunday, November 27, 2011

Nathan's Stocking

Well, I survived Thanksgiving. It was difficult... mentally. I know that I have SO very much to be thankful for but it's hard not to feel cheated by not having Nathan here. This was my Facebook post on Thanksgiving afternoon:

"Thank you for the texts, posts and messages today. The prayers were very much appreciated. Today turned out to be a good day. I'm so thankful for our son Cameron. He is the light of my life and I am grateful to be his mommy. Even though he isn't here with us, I'm thankful for our son Nathan. I wouldn't trade the 16 weeks and 5 days, that I carried him, for anything in the world. I'll take the pain and heartache and learn to live with it because the love I have for him... out shadows it all. I'm soooo thankful for my husband, Allen Stephens. After 17 years together and 11 years of marriage, I love him more than ever. I hope that you all had a blessed Thanksgiving."

Now, comes the hard milestones... Nathan's scheduled c-section due date (21st), Christmas (25th) and his original due date (30th). I know they are going to be the hardest ones. I should be waking up Christmas morning with a 3-year old and a 4-day old. I'm so excited for Cameron but I know Nathan's missing presence will be felt. This will be our first Christmas without Nathan. It will be bittersweet I'm sure. Cameron is at such a fun age and is SO excited about Christmas. We went today and put most everything on layaway for him. I can't wait to see his face when he sees the Toy Story Landfill that he's been asking for. Every time he sees the commercial, he says, "There it is! That's what I want Santa to bring me!"

I've been looking for a way to include Nathan. It's important for me to not leave him out. However, I don't want to make a big fuss that will make most people uncomfortable. I wish there was a way to talk about him or include him in my conversations, without people feeling uncomfortable or sorry for me. I don't want pity... I simply want to be able to talk about BOTH of my boys. For me, it's turned into normal conversation. I've been accepted and allowed to talk about him in my baby loss support groups. It catches me off guard, when I see the look others have, when I talk about him. I realize, too late, that I'm back in the "real world" where talking about "what might have been" seems morbid and obsessive to the non-baby loss person. To me, it seems like part of letting go. I have to picture these things, get used to the loss of them... and gradually let go of the "what might have been's" and accept the "what is".

I came across the idea of the Stocking/Random Acts of Kindness on Melissa's blog, Chasing our Rainbow. I love it! It's a perfect idea, I think. It's subtle yet offers such an impact. It is a perfect way to begin a new Christmas tradition that includes Nathan. I love that it isn't just about Nathan and our family... but also impacts the lives of others. In the words of my husband, "Helping people is always a good thing." I hope that you will take a moment to include our little boy, Nathan in your holiday celebrations this month... either by participating in Nathan's Stocking or simply saying a prayer for us as we try to celebrate the Christmas season without him.

Dear Family & Friends,

First, let me thank you all for your love, support and prayers over the last four months. Thank you for sharing in the excitement of our second pregnancy and in the sorrow of our loss.

As the holidays are approaching, we are excited to spend time with family and friends. Cameron is at such a fun age and we are excited for him. However, we still feel the need to remember our son, Nathan, this Christmas. Nathan was due in December so Christmas will be a bittersweet day for us. It is one of our favorite times of year and we have been searching for a way to keep it that way, even in the midst of our pain. I found this wonderful idea from another mom, whose daughter and son are in Heaven, and was really inspired to do the same thing she did the first Christmas after the loss of her daughter.

We're having a stocking made, with Nathan's name on it, to place beside the rest of our family stockings, but really don't want to see it hang empty, so we have decided to enlist all of you to help us. All that we ask is that sometime between now and Christmas, do something nice for someone, no matter how small or large. It doesn't have to involve money - just commit a random act of kindness. When you do it, think of Nathan and dedicate that act him. You can even leave a note saying, “This random act of kindness was done in memory of Nathan" but you don’t have to. (I made a card if you want to print it to use. It was created as a 3x5 card. Just click to open it and then right-click to save.)


Please write down your act of kindness and send it to us and put “Nathan’s Stocking” in the subject line or slip a note into your Christmas cards to us. I won't read it. I will print out the emails and put them in his stocking. Then, on Christmas morning, we will open up all the notes and read them.

Feel free to share this request with your other friends and family... share it on your Facebook page. Even if only a few of you do this, we will have a really beautiful thing to share on Christmas in our sweet baby's memory and someone else (the recipient of your kindness) will benefit by a true example of the spirit of Christmas. I will pray that all of us will be struck by inspiration, that something will come to each of us, some kindness that we can share of ourselves, in Nathan’s name and in his memory, to benefit someone else. For idea’s and inspiration for random acts of kindness, visit one of the following websites...

http://blessedbycreativejoy.blogspot.com/2010/01/reading-shyla.html

http://amazingmikaylagrace.blogspot.com/2010/12/mikaylas-stocking.html

http://www.missfoundation.org/kindness/ideas.html

http://ticklestogiggles.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-birthday-was-awesome.html

http://tsjphotography.com/blog/random-acts-of-christmas-kindness-summary/

Thank you so much for your participation and your continued love and support,

The Stephens Family

Monday, November 21, 2011

4 Months

At 2:32am, four months ago... my son was born. I can't believe it's been four months. Some days it feels like an eternity already. How am I supposed to live the rest of my life without him here?

I keep thinking about how I should have less than 4 weeks left to prepare for his birth. I should have a fully decorated nursery, filled with baby clothes. I pulled out all of Cameron's "keepsake outfits" last month. I kept every outfit from each "holiday/event" for his first year of life. I held them and soaked in the memories of him wearing them. I hate that his brother will never have memories in those outfits. Instead, those outfits are packed away... yet again. I'm not sure if they'll ever be worn again. The nursery is practically empty. His crib has been packed away in our storage building. It like to broke my heart when I saw my husband carrying it across the yard. His glider is still in there, along with other items that have made their way in. It's become a "catch-all" room, of sorts. Allen spends more time in there than I do. He has gotten into leather making and has taken over the room with his stuff. I don't say anything. It's probably just because it's an empty room... but I like to think that it's his way of being close to Nathan. Occasionally, I'll walk to the door. The glider is on the other side of the room, near the window. He'll be sitting in the glider and braiding or detailing leather... but all I want to picture is my husband rocking our child to sleep. I see the green and blue walls and picture the nursery... complete and beautiful. We chose blue for the top, to resemble the sky and green for the bottom, to resemble the grass. We figured it would work for a boy or girl, by adding appropriate wall pieces. I came across a beautiful owl set online. Of course, it was pink and girly... so I set out to find a similar set for a boy. This was the set I had chosen for a boy. This are the things that should be in Nathan's room...


I think part of my "letting go" is going ahead and picturing these things so that I can find the closure in them. I have to have an end. Everything was ripped, so fast, from me and I'm still trying to process it all. I think another baby loss mom said it best when she told me this:

"It's lot like the world and life around you are moving ahead so fast that you're flailing and grasping at life's shirt tails, trying to grab and hold on for dear life because that's all you can do." (Thank you, Nika!)

I'm still holding on for dear life and I don't know how to let go. I'm terrified to let go. Holding on to these tiny moments and "what-if memories" is all I have. I don't have pictures or tangible items... my memories are it. I know that my brain is going to one day fade and I won't have those; at least not as clear as they are now. That scares me. It makes me sad.

Today, is going to be so hard. I was supposed to have the day off work but I'm going to have to go in. I hope I can find a quiet office, where I can close the door while I work... because I know he's going to be on my mind all day.

I had planned to take every 21st of the month off work for the first year of Nathan's birth/death. I have made that a "Reason to Smile" day. I take my older son and we do something fun together... just spend the day with him. Last month, I started my period on the 21st. A period I shouldn't even have had. It was just another reminder, that no... I'm not pregnant. I just couldn't muster the strength or motivation to do anything.

I work for a medical company and I found out, the other night, that the FDA has shut down one of our drug vendors so they are cutting our Thanksgiving work week short because we can't run our orders until we find a backup vendor to order from. So now, we either have to use PTO (personal time off) or not get paid. I can't afford to go without pay, especially since we don't know what's going to happen after Thanksgiving (if we'll have another vendor by then). Since it's almost the end of the year, I only have 1 day left... which is what I was going to take it this coming Monday. I had planned to take an occurrence on December 21st, which is the day I was supposed to have Nathan, via a c-section. (I've never had an occurrence. You can have 3 of those per year before getting a verbal warning.) Now that I'm having to use my PTO for Wednesday, I guess I'm going to have to go in tomorrow. I don't really don't want to take 2 occurrences. I'm so bummed because now that day is just like any other day... it will just blend in with all the other days this month. I feel like nobody, but me, will know what that day really means. It's the 4 month mark since I last held my son.

I dread next month. It's the milestone I've dreaded the most... Nathan's due date. I've had so much emotion building up to it, I'm not sure what to expect. Half of me expects to just stop breathing on that day... to just not be able to go past that date. Of course, I know that isn't logical. I'll survive and wake up the next day and the next. I'm sure before I know it, I'll wake up and it will be a year gone by.

I have so many dates that are attached to Nathan. Dates that I hate now... when I know I should love them because they are his. I can't help it though. Those dates will never be happy days for me, ever again. I can't picture a day when I'll be able to wake up Easter Sunday without remembering that that was the day I found out I was pregnant. I'll never be able to get through July 19th without remembering sitting on that table at the OB's office, looking at my baby on the screen. Seeing him curled up, lifeless in my body with no heartbeat. I'll never forget that July 20th was the day I was induced. The day I went through 12 hours of pain, knowing the child I was birthing was already gone. I'll never forget that July 21st is my son's birthday... regardless of whether he was alive or not when I birthed him. I'll never look at December 21st the same. I will always remember that THAT should be my son's birthday. It is the day I was supposed to have a scheduled c-section and have my one remaining tube tied. It's the day we were supposed to complete our family. At Christmas, there will always be one child missing. One child that should be opening presents with his big brother. If for some reason, we changed our mind during the pregnancy and chose to let nature take its course or try for a VBAC... December 30th was Nathan's estimated due date.

How did it all go wrong? How the hell did I get here... to this place? Why isn't my baby here with me instead of sitting in an urn in my bedroom? I'm so mad... I so angry that he isn't here. IT ISN'T FAIR!!!!! He is MY son. I don't want or need a frickin' angel. I didn't ask for an angel. I don't care that he's in a better place. My arms are the best place for him... here, with me! I'M HIS MOTHER! I hate this so much. I keep waiting to "feel better" or to be able to "get over it". Part of me wants to... wishes that it were that easy. I know it would feel better. Anything has to feel better than this gapping hole in my heart.

Thursday, November 17, 2011

Thinking

I'm thinking of Nathan tonight. Well, all day really. Today, he's been on my mind more than usual. I kept having to stop at work and try to get focused. I do paperwork for a medical company, dealing with the FDA... so our paperwork has to be perfect. I can't afford to be distracted while at work. Normally, I can find a way to tuck Nathan into my heart and throw myself into my work for the time I'm there. Nathan, of course, had other plans tonight because I just couldn't get him off my mind. I had a meeting this morning with a local support organization to talk about our donation organization, etc. It's really the first time I've talked about him, face to face, with anyone other than my therapist. I was actually surprised that I did so well, without turning into mush. I teared up a few times and had to stop and compose myself. When I got in the car, I turned on the radio and KLove was playing "I Will Praise You in This Storm" and I just lost it. I cried the whole way home. I can't believe Monday will be four months. Some days, it feels like it was just yesterday and then other days, it feels like it's been an eternity already. Will there ever come a time when I won't dread the 21st of the month. I know it won't change anything but I can't wait until January 1st. I just want, so badly, to get past December 30th (his due date). Tonight just feels like a "Why me? Why my baby? I feel like having a pity party." kinda night... :-(

Sunday, November 13, 2011

Bloglovin'

I just have to say... I love Bloglovin'. I was introduced to this great site via a post on Small Bird Studios blog back in September. I've come across so many blogs, since I started blogging, and this website has been such a great tool to help me stay updated on new posts. One of the best parts is, it doesn't matter whether they are hosted on Blogger or Wordpress. It sends me a weekly email with all the latest posts, for each blog that I've added to my subscription list. It has such an easy to use layout... very simple and easy on the eyes.

All you have to do is click on the 'add blog' button and type in the blog address. Once it is found, just click the 'follow' button. Boom! Magically, you'll receive an email (based on the settings you program) letting you know when new posts are added. They also have a cool feature that tells you about blogs that are similar to ones that you subscribe to. If you don't know many people with the type of blog you're interested in... no problem. They have a search feature that lets you find blogs that you might find interesting.

Click here to follow my blog with Bloglovin'!

He's Not Perfect but He's Mine

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My husband and I finally talked today. Hospice was called in today because his dad is dying and I think that helped start the conversation. It's the most he has talked about our son since we left the hospital, almost 4 months ago. My heart hurts a little less right now because I know that even though he never saw our son, he won't forget him and I know how he feels about him. I don't know that I want to share our conversation on here. As private of a person as my husband is, I think I'd feel like I was betraying his trust and confidence, in a way... even though he'll probably never read this.

I love my husband so much but tonight especially, this "quote" just really spoke to me. He has a way of giving me a sense of peace, calm and understanding... just when I need it. He lets me ramble and not make sense and feel better in the end. I love him for loving me. He's not perfect but he's mine and I thank God for him. ♥

Saturday, November 12, 2011

Heartbroken

I'll be so glad when this year is over because quite frankly... the last almost four months have sucked. Allen's dad's health has deteriorated a lot over the last few months. They took him to the doctor earlier this week and ran a bunch of tests and then admitted him to the hospital for more tests. They had a "family meeting" this afternoon. Apparently, his kidneys are shutting down. Allen said they said they were at about 19% right now. They are giving him 3-6 months to live.

My heart is so broken for him right now. I mean I know his dad isn't young (74) and he's lived a long life... but still, I don't think you can ever be really ready to say goodbye to someone you love. Allen loves his dad so much and they are such a close knit family. I mean, heck... the entire family lives on the same road and we can see each others houses from our driveways. Allen's parents just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in June. I can't begin to imagine having to say goodbye to a person that you've loved for that long. I've known my father-in-law since I was 14 years old. My heart is breaking at the thought of having to say goodbye.

Allen said that he won't talk and is ignoring the doctors. He said the doctors were in shock that he was talking last night to Cameron. He carried on a whole conversation with Cameron on the phone. I was okay until Allen told me that. All of a sudden it hit me, that not only are Allen and I going to have to say goodbye... Cameron is losing his PawPaw. My son has lost so much over the last few months and it kills me to think of having to explain this to him. With Nathan, Cameron never saw him and I don't think really got what I was telling him (about Nathan dying and going to Heaven). How do you explain death to a 3 year old? This will be the first "real" loss that Cameron has experienced. He was still so little when my brother, Dustyn died back in 2009... plus, he didn't know Dustyn. (They live 12+ hours away.) How am I supposed to prepare him to say goodbye to his PawPaw?

Please keep Allen's family in your prayers, as they try make final memories and prepare to say goodbye.

Thursday, November 10, 2011

Give the Gift of Life

I noticed a sign at work last week that mentioned we were having a blood donation drive and I thought about Josh's post. I went to HR and signed up. It's the first time I've ever donated blood. I was SO nervous but I knew it was a good thing to do. Here is the picture I took and what I shared on my Facebook.

Since I was trying to text/post my picture, from the blood drive, with one hand... I didn't get a chance to tell you the "story" behind my decision to donate. I'd never really thought about donating until I came across a blog last month, in which a family lost their daughter Margot. She was stillborn on March 24, 2011. Her mother almost died during that time but was saved by blood and platelet transfusions. So, in memory of a precious little angel (who I'm sure was there to welcome my Nathan into Heaven)... today I donated blood for the very first time in my life. Josh, please know that you are NOT the only person who thought of your little girl today. She was with me as I watched my blood leave my body and flow into the bag. I pray that it will help save a life. I pray that it will save someone's family from having to say goodbye. I hope they don't have to feel the pain that we've felt... a pain that comes with leaving a hospital with empty arms and a broken heart. Friends and family: I encourage you to find a local blood donation center or blood drive and consider donating blood in memory of little Margot. http://www.redcrossblood.org

Saturday, November 5, 2011

Perspective

It's amazing how the smallest things can change your perspective on a situation.

It has finally turned into Fall-like weather. Today was rainy and cold... a perfect day to just stay home, hide under the covers and feel sorry for myself. However, I went on to work and was determined to finish the work week with a halfway decent attitude. The beginning of the week started out kinda shaky with the return of a co-worker on maternity leave and the announcement of my other co-worker's baby's birth. On November 1st, they had a baby boy. His birth was a physical reminder, that I should've been next. I was due 7 weeks after her. :-(

Anyway... I went in tonight and the majority of the afternoon went smoothly. Then right before first break, a co-worker walked past me. He used to work in my department on another shift. Now, he works in another department but I see him on occasion in the hallways. He walked past and said, "Hey. How are you?" to which I replied, "Okay. How are you?" It made me think for a moment about a post I read the other day by Josh at Jack at Random. A couple seconds later, I heard him call my name. I turned around and he was standing a little ways away from me. He looked nervous, hesitant almost. He said, "I was just wondering... is everything okay? You seem different. I didn't know if the job was getting to you or what... I just... I just noticed a change in you." Still thinking about Josh's post, I hesitated... stumbling over my words. I'm still trying to figure out how to answer those seemingly innocent questions. How are you? Is everything okay?

I finally just kinda blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I'm okay. Just trying to figure out how to... uh... ya, know... get past everything. (To which I got a confused look.) You're not in our department anymore so you may not have heard but we lost a baby in July." The instant I said those words, I saw such a change in him. Not a nervous "oh, crap... I just stuck my foot in my mouth" look but a genuine, sincere look of sympathy. He said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I'm so sorry to hear that."

We talked for a few more seconds and then parted ways... me back to my paperwork, and he, back to his department. A few minutes passed and I just couldn't get my mind off the conversation. I felt bad. I hate making people feel bad and that's what I felt... like I'd made him feel bad. He couldn't have known the answer to such a simple question would be so loaded. On my way to break, I stopped by to talk to him. I told him that I wanted to let him know that I sincerely appreciated him taking the time to stop and ask about me. Very few people have asked how I'm doing and truly stopped to hear the answer. (Hence the reason, that most of the time, it's a quick generic "Okay. How are you?") He seemed to honestly be okay with everything so I told him a brief version of the story, expecting to hear another "I'm so sorry."

Instead, he told me that he and his wife had also experienced the loss of a child during the 2nd trimester. He said that they had a small, family funeral and had buried their son on family property. He said that he was glad that we had had the conversation because he was going to talk to his wife, once he got home. He said that, as a man, he just wanted his wife to move on and get over it. He couldn't fix the situation and he felt helpless. They went on to have another son and really never talked about their lost child. He said that seeing the change in me, made him realize just how hard it must've been for his wife to not have him support her more, to let her talk about their baby and the experience. Later on, in the night, another co-worker mentioned her experience with an early miscarriage... in which she miscarried, in the car, on the way to the hospital. I don't even remember how the conversation came up, I just remember thinking, "Wow, two co-workers that have lost a child. I would have never known."

It's amazing how the universe works. We all live on this planet, yet we all have different lives but somehow each life affects another, and then another and yet another. My perspective on life has changed so much with Nathan's birth. I don't claim to know all the answers but I do know that there was a reason for Nathan's short life. Nothing in my life or with my situation changed tonight. It does, however, make my grief a tad bit easier to bear... knowing that because of my conversation about my son... a woman that I've never met is going to have a more understanding, loving, caring husband tonight. Call it coincidence, call it fate, call it luck. I call it a plan... God's plan. In a tiny way, MY Nathan... had a hand in reconnecting that marriage just a little bit. That changes my perspective of my loss. I didn't lose anything... he's still with me and always will be. In fact, I gained quite a bit. I can't begin to explain everything he's given me. I miss him... that doesn't change and never will. However, on days like today... I can actually SMILE when I think of my baby boy. I can almost picture him sitting on a cloud, holding a little cupid bow and smiling. And for today, right at this very moment, it's okay with me.

Thursday, November 3, 2011

Gray Area

I'm a little (okay... a lot) freaked out that I have actually published this. I've only shared this blog once, during Small Bird Studios blog hop last month. Now knowing that people can actually SEE me, not just read my words... okay... where's the delete button? I'm freaking myself out even more. The more I share this page... the scarier it is. I have a fear that someone I actually know will stumble across it. For some reason, I feel more comfortable with a perfect stranger knowing these emotional, intimate details of my life vs. my own family and friends. This has been my safe spot... to vent, share and not care what anyone thinks. (This post was written on October 30th and the video was recorded on November 2, 2011. It's being published/uploaded late due to technical issues.)

The following post was written two days ago and was saved as a draft... where it was going to stay. However, I watched Jess' video blog last night and she gave me the courage to publish this and add my video to round-up. It was more emotional, reading it, than I thought it would be. I recorded it sitting in the glider, in what should've been a fully decorated nursery, by now. However, I didn't have the energy or courage to read it again. So here goes... jumbled words, tears and all.



Over the last week or so, I've been following the Spoken Word Blog Round Up, which was created by Angie over at Still Life with Circles. It has been a healing and eye-opening experience for me. It has allowed me to look at my own experience and really dive into my feelings... something I'm not very good at. It has helped give me the words that I want to say... and just never knew how. So for that, Angie... I thank you and this community.

This has been such an emotional two weeks. Perhaps it's the stories I've heard, perhaps it's the fact that I just passed the 3 month mark of Nathan's birth/death, perhaps it's the Facebook pregnancy and birth announcements I've read (5 so far this month), perhaps it's the realization that I should be less than 8 weeks from my due date. I don't know whether I'm coming or going. I just know that this sucks. It hurts and I don't want it anymore: this "new normal". What is that anyway? I mean... there is nothing "normal" about grieving for a child you never got to know.

When I originally started watching the round up, I wasn't going to participate. I just felt like most everyone else seemed to have such a history with their child and with their grief. They recalled painful but cherished moments before, during and after the delivery. What could I possibly add to that? I had none of those moments with my son. Then I thought... surely there must someone on this Earth who has been where I am. Someone must know what I'm going through. Please, I'm begging... someone, anyone... I don't want to be alone in this. Perhaps, this is my chance to connect and feel less alone.

I'm a new blogger... if that's even what you want to call it. My writing isn't "elegant" or beautiful. There is nothing poetic or brave about what I write. In all honestly, I tend to scatter my thoughts and repeat myself. ;-) I looked back over my posts and I just didn't see anything that stood out. (Hence the reason that I'm reading this.) My story is the same as everyone's, yet so very different. I had my bi-weekly session with my therapist yesterday and talked with her about the round up and my feelings... and this is the conclusion that I've come to. I'm in a gray area. I'm in a weird spot. When a person loses a child before or during birth, there are two names for it: miscarriage or stillbirth. I somehow managed to get stuck in the very middle of those two terms. I am the mother to a child who was lost during the second trimester of pregnancy. Legally, I had a miscarriage. In my heart, I had a stillbirth.

Below is a chart that I found, on Wikipedia, that describes the terminology and timeframes of pregnancy outcomes. The only thing I see when I look at the chart, are the different ways that the public perceives how a person ends up with empty arms.



In this gray area, I sometimes don't feel worthy of this grief. At what gestation are we allowed to properly and publicly mourn for our child? At what point is it okay to mourn without someone telling us "it wasn't really a baby" or "Be glad you lost it when you did. Can you imagine if you'd had to carry it longer and go through that"?

In this gray area... I no longer fit in with the "non-baby loss" group. Yet, at times, I don't feel like I fit into the "baby loss" group either. I feel confused and lost. I feel angry and hurt. I feel lonely and excluded. I feel so many things. I wonder, sometimes, why I feel the way that I feel. How is it possible to love and miss someone so much, that you never had a chance to know? Why do I have such a fierce, protective love for this tiny 6 1/2" long baby boy who flutter out of my world faster than he flutter in? Why do I feel so much like I'm the only person who misses him... like I'm the only one who's life has changed?

Nathan's story isn't filled with family and cherished memories and that makes me sad. I hate that he wasn't given the same things that my first son received. He wasn't welcomed into the world surrounded by his family. There was nobody at the hospital when he was born, except my mom. (She came, so that I wouldn't be alone.) I am the only person who held him, other than the nurse who delivered him and the funeral home staff. My husband made the decision, for himself, that he didn't want to see him... even if he were at the hospital when I delivered. A decision that I'm trying so hard to respect and not be angry about. A little after 3am, after 12 hours of labor, on July 21, 2011, (after they had taken Nathan away) I called him at home. As he laid in our bed, snuggled next to our first born child, Cameron... I told him, "It's a boy. We have another son. I think he would've looked so much like Cameron. He has my nose, your long legs and Chris' square-shaped chin. (Chris is my brother.) His cord was wrapped twice around his neck." That is about the extent of what my husband knows about his second child. Nathan has become an elephant (yet another aspect of my gray area). He is in the room with us always but rarely talked about or mentioned. It seems to make my husband uncomfortable so I don't talk about him very often.

I struggle with my anger and regrets because it's unfair that Nathan got gipped out of so many things. Looking back, I realize that, as his mother, I should have done more... because nobody else was going to. I hate that my mind and body were in shock and that I didn't have more time and forethought to process what was happening. I go to sleep every night and in my dreams, I pray that I will see my son, so that I can tell him how very sorry I am that I didn't fight harder to make his birth more important.

When I look at my older son, it hurts to think of all that he will miss out on by not having his brother here. Even if we have more children in the future, his first little brother will always be missing from that picture. It's so unfair. I don't know why I think I'm special enough to think that I should've somehow been spared this heartache. We all should've been spared. No parent should have to hold their dead child in their arms and say goodbye. No parent should have to leave a hospital with empty arms. To go home with nothing to say their child was real... and not just a figment of their imagination.

Unfortunately, this is now my life. My life is no longer colorful and vibrant. Yet it isn't black and white... it's simply gray.

(Here is the link, if you are interested in linking up with the Spoken Word Blog Round-Up.)

Saturday, October 29, 2011

The Jesus Card

It's been 3 months... shouldn't I be crying less, missing him less? It seems like the more time that passes, the harder it is. I'm starting to have good days but the emotional ones are creeping back in. I think it's because I'm getting closer to my due date... or what should've been my due date. I should be 31 weeks pregnant and getting ready to welcome my baby boy into the world in less than 8 weeks.

Last night, I started crying at work. It's the first time I've done it and not been able to stop myself. I'm normally so good at the "Doing good. How are you?" response and the fake, plastered smile. It's become my trademark and I've come close to perfecting it. Luckily, since I work second shift, the office staff is gone. I took my work and went into the conference room so nobody would see me. Later in the night, I ran into a co-worker who lost her young adult son in a car accident last year. She asked me how I was doing and it just went from there. We were both still standing in the hallway 45 minutes later crying and talking, totally oblivious to the people walking past us. I saw the uncomfortable looks as they passed by but at that very moment... I didn't even care if they saw me cry. We both confided some things in each other and just took the time to miss our boys. It felt really good to talk to someone at that very moment. She didn't change the subject, she didn't walk away, she didn't pacify the situation and tell me everything would be okay. She simply held me, let me talk and cry and I'm thankful to her for that.

I came across the link below tonight, via a friend, on Facebook. I truly believe it was exactly what I needed to read tonight. I'm still struggling with my feelings towards God and I think I will be for a long time. But I'll get there. I know He's patient and understanding. He can take my temper tantrums and occasional silent treatment. He's not finished with me yet.

http://internetcafedevotions.com/2011/10/the-jesus-card/

Wednesday, October 26, 2011

Reality

Today was hard... harder than I thought it was going to be. Today is the first day I've had to be around a pregnant woman for an extended amount of time. But not just any random pregnant woman... one of Cameron's classmate's mom, who just happens to be due 4 days after I was. I knew this day would come and I thought I was prepared and okay. Cameron had a field trip with his preschool class to the pumpkin patch. I feel horrible because I couldn't just suck it up and enjoy the day with Cameron. I was so focused on trying to fake being okay and holding back my tears. I kept my back to her most of the morning but I still overheard the multiple comments from other parents and pumpkin patch staff. When are you due? What are you having? How have you been feeling? Have you picked out a name? I tried my best to stay away from her and enjoy the time with Cameron but it seemed like God was picking on me because I got stuck sitting in front on her on the hayride. A hayride I thought would never end. Then, while they were heading for the snack table, Cameron had to go potty. Well, by the time we got back the only spot left was... yeap, you guessed it... across the table from her and her son.

Some days I really seem to be okay and getting used to this "new normal" but its days like today that slap me in the face. This grieving thing sucks. I hate it. I don't want it anymore. I wish I could be a child and lay in the floor and throw a temper tantrum and make it all go away. I want to be the one people ask those questions to. I want to be the fat girl with the round belly who blends in with the big round pumpkins.

I want my baby. I miss him so much. Will this raw, hurt feeling every go away? How many more times am I going to have to endure that knife-life feeling in my heart? I wish I could just close the curtains and hide under the covers. I wish that I could spend the rest of the afternoon, lost in a dream. A dream where I'm still pregnant and all is right with the world. Unfortunately, I have to leave for work here soon. So, once again... I'll plaster on my smile, wipe away my tears and pretend everything is okay.

Saturday, October 22, 2011

2012 Calendar

After yesterday, I guess God and Nathan knew I needed something to be positive and hopeful about. I received an email this morning from CarlyMarie at the 'Lost for Words' website. My quote was chosen to be included in her 2012 calendar.

My therapist and I were talking and I was trying to explain how I felt. People are telling me to move on, try again, don't become obsessive, etc. I sat for a minute and this quote just came to me. It's the only way I can explain how I feel. Its like I have no choice in the matter. He's embedded into who I am... I can't just "choose" to move on or forget him.

A few days later, I noticed that CarlyMarie and Franchesca were accepting quotes to be considered for their 2012 calendar. I honestly didn't think it would be chosen... I just wanted to share. I'm honored to be a part of this wonderful calendar. My quote is on the September 2012 page. You can click here to see the page.

Here's the link to view and/or purchase CarlyMarie and Franchesca's calendars... http://lostforwordscardline.com/

Friday, October 21, 2011

3 Months

Today marks the 3rd month since Nathan grew his wings. I know I had decided that each month on the 21st, I would have a "Reason to Smile" day with Cameron. However, today I just couldn't muster the energy or strength. I started my period yesterday and it has been a bad one. I even had to bring out the pain pills. It sucks. I shouldn't even be HAVING a period. Today, I should be 30 weeks pregnant.

When does it get better? People keep saying I need to move on... not become "obsessed" with this. Am I obsessed? I'm trying to find a balance between holding onto him and letting go. When will I be able to get through the 21st day of the month without feeling like this?

Thursday, October 20, 2011

Fear and Reality

I came across this post today and I could relate to so much of what she wrote. For me, the hardest part of all this is that nothing is going to change that fact my son isn't here with me. No amount of prayer or explanation is going to make him magically appear. There isn't anything that can be said to make me feel all better. My eyes have been opened to the stark reality of death and I can't close them and pretend it never happened.

People keep asking if we're going to try again. I'm too scared to say yes or no. I feel completely paralyzed with the decision. Before, I figured once you made it past 12 weeks... you were safe. You were out of the first trimester "danger zone". My experience has made it very clear that that isn't the case. 2nd trimester loss is possible. The stories I've read and the people I've met on this baby loss journey, make me realize that we are never "safe". Even if we make it full-term... baby, infant and child loss is still possible. It reminds me of the following saying:

“Making the decision to have a child - It's momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body." - Elizabeth Stone

Regardless of where your children are, part of you will be with them forever. It isn't possible to become a mother without giving part of yourself away. I gave part of my heart away on June 15, 2007 and again on April 24, 2011, when I found out I was pregnant with each of my boys.

Before I lost Nathan, I had heard of babies and children dying but it always happens to other people... not me. You read the story in the paper or hear about someone a friend knows and think 'I feel so sorry for them. How horrible?!?! I can't imagine...' I've now become that "other person". Sadly, I don't have to imagine. I know how it feels. I know that it can happen... it happened to me.

I have so much fear in letting Cameron out of my sight. Allen can walk Cameron across the road to his parents house and I'm watching out the window to make sure they made it across the road okay. I worried about him before but now, its like I can imagine every horrible scenario. I have to try so hard not to let the fear completely take over. I could try and pretend that I'm now safe. After all, how cruel would it be for me experience the loss of another child. Unfortunately, I know that lightening can strike twice. I could lose Cameron or another baby... I'm not protected or shielded from that. There is nothing about me that makes me special or immune. I know that a child can be taken from me and I feel completely powerless. I hate feeling like I have no control... or at least the illusion of having control.

Thursday, October 13, 2011

Variety of things...

I've been meaning to come on here but it seems like there are not enough hours in the day. So many things have happened over the last week or so. I don't even remember where to begin so forgive me as I may jump from one subject to the next.

I had a co-worker ask me, last Tuesday, if I would spread the word about another co-worker's baby shower. (They had changed the date.) I realize that I'm not in a room and I have "free access" to other people throughout my building. That said, however, did I REALLY need to be the person to ask? The shower was for the husband because he is in our department. His wife is in another department on the same shift. (Her department threw her a shower the week before.) She and I were about 5-6 weeks apart. Like I wanted to be reminded that they are having a baby shower because she IS still pregnant. Then come to find out... a co-worker I told, forgot about it and I guess some others did too. So guess who got blamed? Yeap, me. I heard that the original co-worker blamed me because I was supposed to let everyone know. WHATEVER!?!?! I know that I put aside my feelings and did what she asked me to do. I wasn't ugly or jealous. Hell, I even bought them a cake and a baby shower gift! I'm truly happy for them but it still hurts to know that I should be going into my 30th week of pregnancy this Friday.

I found out last week that a friend at work is expecting. Apparently, everyone else knew but she was scared to tell me. She didn't want to hurt my feelings. That meant a lot to me. It took everything in me to walk up and give her a hug without crying. I teared up and have to walk away after giving her a hug and telling her congratulations. She's due in May. I should've had a 5 month old by then. :-(

I finally met a fellow baby loss friend. She lost her son a week after I lost Nathan. We met online through a mutual friend. She and I attended our local 'Walk to Remember'. It was a beautiful ceremony.

I got pouches in the mail last week and today from two of my Birth Club friends. They are beautiful!!! I was telling a co-worker about them tonight and she mentioned that she crochets and would love to make some blankets/pouches/hats! Yipee... I'm so excited!!!

Wednesday, September 28, 2011

Pathology

I've come to despise the word fetus. I got Nathan's pathology report in the mail yesterday. I was running late yesterday so I grabbed the mail and shoved it into my lunch box. When I got to work, I started reading the mail while I was on my lunch break. I didn't realize that's what it was until I opened it and started reading. I couldn't even get through the first page before I had to put it away. That's what he is referred to on it... not a baby, not Nathan... "the fetus". I don't even know that I want to read it now.

Tuesday, September 27, 2011

Hope

I came across a blog hop... something I'd never heard of until now. I took a huge step when I shared Nathan's donation project's page publicly. I'm a new blogger and haven't actually shared this page with anyone. It's been my safe place. A place to vent without caring about anyone's opinion or feelings. So... as you can see, this is an even bigger step. Nika's post about sharing stories really helped me decide to jump. http://rebuildingabrokenheart.blogspot.com/2011/09/sharing-stories.html (She gave me permission to share her story.)

The blog hop is about what has brought you hope here lately. I read through the other blog posts and have been pondering this for a couple days now. What has brought me hope lately?

(About 10 minutes later... sitting and staring at the screen.) Okay... this is hard. Harder than I thought. You see... I'm still in a place of trying to figure out exactly what the heck has happened to my life. The mirror has been shattered and I'm still trying to put the pieces back together. I know the cracks will be there and it will always be broken... but maybe I can tape the pieces back together. I don't need to have a perfect mirror... I just want to be able to see again.

I think the thing that has brought me the most hope recently is Nathan's project. I've had so many people tell me how strong I am... especially for wanting to do something so soon after his death. I don't really have an answer, other than, I don't know what else to do. I don't have a choice. Life goes on and the sun comes up whether I want it to or not. I have a husband and another son here who need me. It doesn't matter whether its fair or not... I have to learn how to survive without Nathan here on Earth.

I now have something… a reason to keep going, a purpose. Of course, I have my husband and older son but this project gives me something that ties me to Nathan. It is like holding onto a small piece of him. I don't understand why he isn't here with me and I don't think I ever will. I just know that I can't go back and change anything with my situation but if I can hopefully help another parent avoid the regrets that I have; then perhaps it will make me feel like Nathan's life was important to someone other than me. I can't "mother him" or do anything to show my love for him… so I'll "mother" and pour my love and energy into his project.

I've met SO many people over the last 2 months. People that I would have never met if he were still inside me. I have a goal... a plan... a hope... that someone, besides me, will know how special his short life was. He has taught me so much about love, life, myself... and more importantly, about God. I've always believed in God but never have I felt His presence more than I do now. For that, I will be forever thankful for Nathan. I will praise God for the four short months that he let Nathan grow inside of me. He may have only been in my tummy for four months, but he will live in my heart until I take my last breath and join him.

Wednesday, September 21, 2011

2 Months

I can't believe it's been 2 months since Nathan's death. I'm sad just thinking about it. It feels like I'm on an escalator. I can still see him, as I'm looking back... but the escalator (each day) is taking me farther from where he is. (Does that make sense?)

Nathan,

I miss you, baby boy. I love you and wish so badly that you were here with me... still in my tummy. I wish that I only had to wait 15 more weeks to see you. I would wait patiently... because the wait would be worth it. I laid in bed last night and closed my eyes, trying to remember each part of you. You are slowly fading from my memory... well, not you... but the details of you. I hate my brain for failing me. I'm trying so hard to hold on to as much as I can. I'm trying sweetie... I really am.

Love,
Mommy

Sunday, September 18, 2011

Hospital Appointment

I just realized that I didn't talk about the visit to the hospital. I saw the maternity floor coordinator on Thursday about our project, You are my Child. I guess it went pretty good. She is supposed to find out some more information for me. There were a few questions that she didn't have an answer to. Of course, I was kinda nervous and totally blotched the entire conversation (or that's how I felt). I kept trying to remind myself that I was there to be a source of help for the other parents... not to bash them (the hospital) and tell them about all the regrets I left with. (Although, I did share a few with her.)

She said that she thought they had an organization that donated clothing and blankets years ago but she couldn't remember if or why they stopped. She gave me some information about the statistics (numbers) of losses they have. Of course, it kinda hurt a little when she said that they only count the babies born in the maternity suite. Basically, cases like mine (which are apparently rare) aren't counted because we deliver on the maternity floor in a regular room, not in the maternity suite. Last year, they had 18 "fetal losses" in the maternity suite. This year, as of the end of August, they've already had 17. Those numbers don't reflect babies who are miscarried and delivered via D&C or like me, outside of the maternity suite.

That kinda sucks because the earlier losses are the ones we are primarily targeting. Not to say the later, 3rd trimester losses, aren't as important. It's just that more people/organizations/hospitals are geared towards helping those families already. Those families leave with footprints and keepsakes. When I showed her one of the memory boxes, she asked about the ruler in it. I told her that I didn't know the procedure for different gestations, but that Nathan wasn't measured. She said, "There isn't a reason to. We have no statistical purpose to." I had to compose myself for a minute before I continued because frankly, it pissed me off. I told her that I measured Nathan with my hand and that was the only reason I had a measurement for him. Parents like me, leave with so little. When at all possible, we want the same things that a parent of a stillborn or full-term baby would get. To be able to leave with an outfit or blanket our child touched... to have an accurate, medical weight and length... to have a picture... to have footprints... those things are just as important and priceless to parents of a 2nd trimester loss.

I did get an answer about the footprints, and why we weren't able to get any of Nathan. It made me actually feel even better about my nurse. Knowing that the chances were slim to none, she still tried anyway. That warms my heart and lets me know that she really did care. Anyway, she told me that I was right and that the main reason was, not being able to get him dry enough and that at that gestation, they normally don't have enough ridges in their feet to pick up the ink. I didn't think about it until after I had left, but a girl on my support board lost her daughter about a week before me. Our babies were only a couple days different in gestation and she got footprints. I need to ask her and see if her hospital has a different protocol or if there is a different kind of ink or something that they use.

That understanding also shot the clay molds out of the water. She said since the babies limbs are so fragile and brittle, they aren't able to apply enough pressure to the baby's joints to get an indentation into the clay. It would be pretty useless to put them in the boxes for the smaller babies.

I had asked about the point in which they can start dressing the babies, without much fear of bruising them. She told me 25-30 weeks. I've seen smaller babies dressed so I was kinda confused by the information I've been getting from different sources. I realize the goal is to handle them as little as possible... so the outfits we're looking to make are very minimal, as far as having to manipulate babies in them. I guess I need to look more into this.

After talking to my therapist that afternoon, she mentioned that it might be a better idea to get with local OB offices and find out about distributing through them, since the hospitals don't keep realistic, accurate statistics of ALL losses. That way families have all these resources BEFORE they go to the hospital. Once they receive the devastating news, they can begin to view the resources and have a chance to digest what their choices are beforehand. So many life changing questions are asked right there in the hospital. What the staff doesn't get... is the fact that most of the time you aren't really there to make those decisions. Your body is but your mind and emotions are in shock. If we decide to go that route, we'll still donate to the hospital for the families who come in through the ER or who find out there, that their baby is no longer living or won't survive.

Lots to think about and work through. I'm still excited though. My hope is that we're opening the door for earlier losses to receive the same care, support and options (when possible) as the later losses. There is nothing that will make the situation better or easier but I pray that no parent has to leave the hospital with the pain and regrets I did. I hope that our resources will help them gain a positive, meaningful goodbye with their baby and they are able to leave with keepsakes... tangible proof that their baby existed.

Questions

I was searching online tonight for loss specific sites (Cord accidents, Trisomy 18, etc) to add to YAMC's site. I came across this article. Its pretty long but as I read it... now, it's got me wondering. Was Nathan's cause of death really a cord accident? The way I read the article, cord accidents in the 2nd trimester are almost unheard of. There is almost always another cause. I know it won't change anything but I think I'm going to show my doctor this and ask to see my medical records from the delivery. If there is a chance that anything that happened, could be repeated in a future pregnancy... I want to know. I don't get a death certificate or legal cause of death but I still want to know what happened. Sometimes the internet is a dangerous place. It would so much easier to hide and not have all this information... just be secluded in my own, naive little world.

Was my doctor right in diagnosing a cord accident? by Carolyn Salafia, MD, Ph.D.

A "cord accident" is a very non-specific diagnosis that just means "something" happened to the cord. That "something" could be anything from a cord being wrapped around the baby's neck, to a cord prolapse, to umbilical blood vessel rupture. Cord problems are real problems, especially at term but commonly pathologists believe that a normal cord has enough built-in protection to save itself UNLESS there is some other kind of problem making it harder for the cord to function properly. That's why we look closely at the placenta to determine what might have caused the cord to fail. Although true cord accidents do occur in the third trimester, I have no recollection of ever coming to the conclusion of a pure cord accident in the second trimester when the amniotic fluid volume was normal, and the placenta and cord were healthy. Even in the third trimester I commonly find that a cord accident was a final event and not the cause of the problem that led to the baby's death. I generally conclude that the cord was put at risk because of another circumstance. In future pregnancies many of those circumstances wouldn't necessarily recur as a cord accident. Those maternal problems could manifest themselves in any one of a number of ways such as growth restriction, fetal death, preeclampsia, or preterm birth. That's why it's important for a pathologist to examine your placenta to determine exactly what caused your cord to fail.

To understand why a true cord accident--whereby the cord gets trapped or fails without some other process causing it to fail--is rare it helps to understand how the umbilical cord functions. The cord has two arteries wrapped around a vein. That means it has two outflow tracts and one inflow tract, centimeters at a remove from the baby's itsy-bitsy heart. The force of that little baby's hearbeat has to get blood all the way down the cord through a capillary bed where flow is necessarily very slow and then all the way back up the vein. The idea people have is that the only way Mother Nature allowed us to evolve such a stupid lifeline is because the cord is built to be able rescue itself most of the time.

To help protect itself, the cord has a substance called Wharton's Jelly around the blood vessels. It takes some force to actually move Wharton's Jelly but after the force is applied, the jelly will move and assume a new position. That means that if the cord is compressed it will remain where it is until the pressure becomes great. Then the Wharton's Jelly will cause it to move into a safer position.

In addition, the umbilical cord is covered by a skin that allows the cord to slip and slide at term even when there's not a whole lot of amniotic fluid, just like your intestines slip and slide in your belly. In fact, the cord is so slippery that when they're trying to encourage the placenta to be born, obstetricians may have to wrap the cord around their hands several times in order to get a good grip on it. If you have adequate fluid volume and a healthy cord I find it hard to understand how a cord could get wrapped several times around a baby's neck and stick there during the second trimester. I find it a lot easier to imagine how a floppy lifeless cord could drape itself around the neck of a child who has died and may be rotating in utero due to maternal positioning and gravity. Then, as the baby is delivered the cord would be pulled and tightened in its position as the baby descends and the placenta is retained attached to the uterine wall. But if there's enough amniotic fluid in the second trimester I can't see how the cord can get trapped. If a cord does get trapped in the second trimester with even a respectable amount of amniotic fluid then I have to worry about abnormal things in the amniotic fluid space that would cause epithelial erosion, like blood.

Since the cord is built to rescue itself under most circumstances, when a "cord accident" is diagnosed by an obstetrician, a reproductive pathologist will look for problems that might have increased the cord's vulnerability. Some of the questions I ask as I examine the placenta are: Was the placenta damaged so that the baby's heart would have had to work harder to pump blood through the placenta? Is there abnormal inflammation? Are there infarcts? Is the cord inserted on the wrong place, i.e. on the membranes instead of on the chorionic plate? Are the blood vessels abnormally straight? (In a normal cord the two arteries wrap around the vein and the pulsations of the artery help milk blood back up the vein. Some ultrasound studies have suggested that when there is not a helical coiling of the blood vessels, the straightness of the vessels is associated with a greater risk of problems. Presumably the idea is that if the arteries aren't lending their support to the vein, there might be an abnormality in how well the cord is functioning and it may be closer to a threshold where it doesn't rescue itself.)

At times (it's quite uncommon, and far less often than my clinician friends think it might be a cord accident!) I do diagnose a true cord accident in the third trimester. These would be:

1. A knot in the cord.
2. Spontaneous cord vessel rupture.
3. Nuccal cord. This is the medical term for a cord being wrapped around the baby's neck.
4. Cord prolapse. This is when the cord precedes the baby out of the uterus.

Also sometimes there is a problem with water flow and the umbilical cord Wharton's Jelly possibly isn't well hydrated. Or there may be something "bad" in the amniotic fluid space--like meconium or blood--so that the umbilical cord epithelium is eroded. Or there may be something abnormal in the organization of the arteries so that maybe the arteries don't help milk blood back along the vein the way they ought to. Then I would diagnose a cord accident.

However more commonly I find other issues that probably caused the cord to fail. There are more common reasons for the cord to get caught and have an accident; the frequency of each really varies with different hospitals and different groups of people. The most frequent causes of cord failure are:

1. Abnormal amniotic fluid volume. In the second and third trimesters amniotic fluid is mainly made up of the baby's urine. Normal kidneys can change their level of urine production depending on how much blood flow comes to them. Blood flow will be shunted away from the kidneys to more vital organs like the heart and the brain if there is a problem with oxygen delivery. If amniotic fluid volume drops off steeply I have to start wondering if there's some reason why fetal urine production is being reduced. If the placenta is insufficient or if the baby perceives low oxygen levels in its tissues, it will start shunting blood away from its kidneys to spare its vital organs. That shunting away will decrease the amount of blood that's filtered in the kidneys and reduce the amount of urine that's produced.
2. An abnormally functioning placenta. There are four main reasons for a placenta with normal genetics to function abnormally: a.) A structural problem in the uterus such as a septum or some abnormality of shape and form. b.) "Immune" issues. The first thing the placenta does when it's forming is invade into the mother's tissues and establish vascular connections. While it remains controvertial exactly how to diagnose immune issues under the microscope it appears clear to me that in some people there may be problems in how the mother's tissues accommodate the foreign placenta. c.) Problems in how the blood vessels are remodeled by the placenta and how that remodeling process is tolerated by the mother. d.) Congenital viral infection. It's not uncommon for me to see intramniotic bacterial infection or congenital viral infection in babies with cord problems.
3. Abnormal pulse pressure in the cord. This can be related to fetal heart dysfunction (abnormal rhythmn, or can happen if the baby's heart is malformed and more stressed by the normal demands made on it during fetal life.
4. Velamentous, or membraneous, cord insertion. A normal cord is inserted on the placental side of the chorionic plate. The chorionic plate is the outermost of the two shells in which the baby grows and develops. On the placental side the chorion sprouts the villai that are the structures through which oxygen, nutrients and waste are exchanged between the baby's bloodstream and the mother's bloodstream. The cord's two arteries and one vein enter the chorion at a right angle. The placental side of the chorion is almost like a trampoline surface. If you were going to bend or tug at the cord at the point of insertion (thereby lessening the 90 degree angle at which the cord enters the chorionic plate), the chorionic plate will move in such a way that the blood vessels will stay open.

However, if the umbilical cord is inserted on the membraneous, or maternal, side of the chorionic plate, that's when troubles can arise. The membraneous side of the chorion is a very flat, paperthin sheet of tissue that runs up against the rigid myometrial wall. It has no give and, because of that, the the blood vessels that run from the cord to the plate are subject to compression or traumatic injury. This risk would increase as the baby approached the third trimester and amniotic fluid volume level started its normal rate of decrease as the baby got larger. At the time of membrane rupture a velamentous cord can be destabilized because the pressure of the amniotic fluid is no longer keeping the angle of the membranes and the plate open. It's very common for the fetal heartbeat tracing to acutely change and an emergency c-section to be required.

In addition to being vulnerable at the insertion site where the blood vessels are making that right angle, the blood vessels are also vulnerable further down along the cord. Those blood vessels have to travel in the membranes to the main body of the placenta, the mass of placental villi that are perfused by the mother's blood stream, and are where the nutrients actually are being extracted. The baby's head, elbow or knee can push against those blood vessels and they will have no place to go. They will be compressed, can be injured, and make it hard for the baby's heart and placenta to maintain their normal function, and keep healthy structure.

I wouldn't consider a velamentous or membraneous cord to be a true cord accident because the cord is mechanically set up to be vulnerable by abnormal placental migration. I can't blame the cord, then, if the root cause of the cord's problem is that the placenta grew out from underneath it. I need to try to figure out if there are any reasons why the placenta grew in such a direction. Sometimes, uterine septum can create a problem for the placenta. Sometimes, implantation down too close to the cervix can be the root cause. These each need to be evaluated carefully by clinician and pathologist to understand if there is any treatable underlying problem that caused the placental migration.

Carolyn Salafia, M.D., Ph.D., is board certified in Anatomic and Clinical Pathology and in Pediatric Pathology. She is a world-reknown expert on pregnancy loss and is one of a small handful of pathologists in this country who specialize in reproductive pathology. For more information, see her website,www.earlypath.com. Note: This communication is for educational purposes only and should not be used as a substitute for a consultation with your physician.