2 months

I'm torn between 2 very different thoughts.  "Wow, it's been 2 months already??" and "It's ONLY been 2 months??"  Strange.

I've been really angry lately.  At everything.  I wake up angry and I go to bed angry.

I'm still having a really hard time accepting this pregnancy.  Every twinge or cramp makes me spazz out in fear.  I'm angry that I have to wait another 9 months to hold a baby again.  I'm angry that it won't actually be Alexander that I'll be giving birth to. 

Someone told me recently that I deserved for this to happen to me.  Normally it wouldn't bother me because of the source, but it really struck a nerve.  I've done things in the past that I'm not proud of.  I've learned from them and changed as a result.  But is it karma?  Did I deserve for this to happen?  Maybe I did. 

All over the place today

Sometimes I feel like I'm doing okay.  Which is a strange thought.  Because are you ever really "okay" after your child dies?

And then I feel guilty for feeling okay.  And then my mind wanders to Alex and I remember how soft he was and his wonderful smile and the way his fuzzy hair felt and smelled.  And just when I'm enjoying these memories, my stupid brain betrays me and I immediately flash to finding him not breathing, the way he felt so limp, screaming, more screaming, a lot more screaming, walking into the hospital room in Philly and seeing that he wasn't hooked up to anything and that there wasn't anyone in the room and just knowing.  Feeling the scream build up inside of me and pouring out right before I fell to the floor.   Literally feeling part of me die inside right there in that very room. 

And then I get angry.  Like right now.  Now I'm pissed off.  I want to think about my son and smile, not start crying and feeling my heart rip into pieces instead.

I try to be happy for other parents but sometimes that is just so hard.  Sometimes it's so hard that I don't even want to bother trying because it takes so much energy.  I see a 4 month sticker on a baby and I'm jealous that I had to put mine on a balloon.  I see people start talking about having a baby "soon" when they are 32-35 weeks and I want to show them a picture of my baby born at 32 weeks.  No pregnancy is so miserable that you should wish to have a baby that early.  I get furious when I see someone say that a baby born at 35 weeks will be fine.  "Fine"???  By who's definition and who can guarantee that?

I hate being so bitter and jaded now.  That pregnancy and babies will never be a completely joyous thing for me. 

I've spent the past couple of weeks of this pregnancy in fear that something is wrong or is going to go wrong.  Just waiting for bad news.  Just waiting for the other shoe to drop.  It's a very different pregnancy than what I had with Emma and Alex, so far.  Minimal morning sickness.  Just tired and dizzy. 

We had our first ultrasound yesterday.  While it should have reassured me, it didn't.  I'm grateful that everything appears to be progressing on time.  But we didn't see a heartbeat yet so I'm still scared.  

We've affectionately nicknamed the baby Roy.  As in ROY G BIV, since it's our rainbow baby.   But I'm not attached.  Zero bonding so far.  I guess I just figure... what's the point, in case it dies.  I have issues.

I've really been throwing myself into keeping busy as much as possible.  Driving Emma around all over the place... school, soccer, karate, gymnastics, playdates, etc. And then I started some crafting in my "spare" time.  The crafting has actually been very therapeutic for me.  It's quiet time I get to enjoy with my best friend while keeping my hands and mind busy. 

I just have so much guilt.  How can I be happy about this pregnancy without feeling guilty about it because Alex should be here instead??

Christmas thoughts

I know that I want to wrap something from Alex under the tree for Emma so she knows he's thinking about her.  But I've been wondering what to do about a stocking.  If he was still here, he'd definitely have gotten a stocking as well.   Would it be wrong to put one up for him anyway? 

I hate that I even have to think about this.  Why can't I just be trying to decide which stocking to get instead of trying to figure out whether or not I buy one for my dead child.

I'm very much missing holding him tonight. 

I just realized that his flowers on the bookshelf died.  I'll need to get some more tomorrow.  Maybe I shouldn't have any up there. Seems like it's a constant reminder of death.

Random thoughts.

Last night, I sat in Alex's room thanking him for the wonderful gift he sent us.  I touched all of his things in there and thought of him. 

How on earth could I put another baby in these things that he so loved and brought us such joy to see him in.  That we look at empty now and still see him in them.

Some things we can reuse without causing us too much heartache.  The crib, bookcase, dresser. 

Others though.... I don't know if I can.  Alex has 2 bouncy seats.  They both have meaning to us and hold a lot of memories of Alex.

The Bright Starts Ingenuity bouncer that he slept in for weeks when he first came home from the NICU.  He loved it because it actually bounced instead of vibrated.

The other is a Fisher Price bouncy seat that would play music and light up when he got all excited and started kicking his legs.  He went NUTS in this. 


I can't bear to use or sell either of them. They hold too much memories of Alex.





We were reusing Emma's swing with Alex and he liked it.  I don't have the emotional attachment to that like I do the bouncy seats.   Enough that I can't reuse it.  But I do feel as though I can sell it.  

All of Alex's clothes are being made into a quilt so there's no worry there.   I kept the bigger ones with tags that he hadn't even gotten to wear yet.  Emma's clothes are long gone, sold at a consignment sale.  So I'll have to start all over again with clothing.  

I'm not sure how to feel about the carseat right now. 

Random thoughts.   Just running through my mind.  

I want to have the reckless abandon of excitement that women have when they find out they are pregnant.  But I can't bear to bring the baby stuff out.  I want to start all over again with all new things that aren't going to scream Alexander every time I use them.  But it's not practical.  We don't have the money or ability to do that.

I just want this baby to have it's own identity and not have to live overshadowed by it's older brother's memories. 

To be able to have joy in it's arrival without the sorrow and guilt of missing Alexander. 

I just miss you so much, sweetheart. I'd give anything to have you back in my arms again.

Wonderful story that a friend sent me

My friend Dave wrote and sent this story to me when he heard our news.  It really meant a lot to me.  It takes a lot to make you laugh and cry at the same time!

Alex was up in heaven, looking down. He kept seeing you crying and he was confused cuz he was just a baby. Jesus walked by and Alex grabbed him by the robe.

"Hey Jezo," Alex said, "Why is my mommy crying? She got to hang out with me, like, my entire life!"

"She's upset that you're not with her still, A-bone. She loved you so much that it's very hard for her to carry on. She knows you're up here and that living conditions are pretty good, but she doesn't know about the chocolate milk water slide, the Baskin Robbins on every corner (instead of Starbucks), or the endless sea of lady babies to keep you company, stud. I'm sure if she saw how happy you were, it might make her stop crying," replied Jesus.

"I suppose you're right, Jesus. Still... I know she's thinking about me and that it hurts. I need to find a way to show her that I'm doing really well up here. I'm learning lots and I'm already a 7th grader. That's how smart I am! I need to find a way to give mommy a sign that everything will be okay."

Alex hopped on his motorcycle and took a ride to his favorite cloud. He began to think. Alex knew his mommy was seeing all the rainbows he was throwing down for her and he was appreciating all the balloons he was receiving in return. He then asked a few of his lady friends for ideas. They all thought he was super cute cuz he cared about his mommy so much. They had a few ideas.

"Call up edible arrangements and send her some strawberry flowers!"

"Oooh, how about having a hershey's kisses truck jacknife in front of her house so she can have unlimited kisses from you!"

"How about covering her house in a billion beautiful butterflies so that when she gets home from grocery shopping, they all fly away at once!"

"No," Alex replied, "I'm gonna need to call the big guns on this one."

Alex hopped back onto his motorcycle and took off towards the tallest tower in Heaven. When he got there the guards asked him his business and he told them he needed to see beard man (Alex is so articulate and has such a large vocabulary but for some reason, still can't pronounce "god." Go figure.). The guards called up and lifted the huge gate and Alex hopped on the escalator to God. He had only been there once before but really enjoyed it because the entire way up was accompanied by the song "Single Ladies" by Beyonce and he just really liked the message in the lyrics. When he arrived at the top, God looked at him with the warmest smile you can imagine.

"A-money! Long time no see! You're looking great! Have you been working out?"

"Actually, yes, I've really been working my beach muscles, thanks for noticing," Alex replied. "I am here for a reason, though, beard man. Every night when I look down at mommy, she's crying. I know she's sad I'm gone but I've been trying to find ways to show her I'm alright. I finally came up with the ultimate idea, but I need your help."

"Anything for my favorite baby," God answered, "what can I do?"

Alex, a little embarrassed, looked around, then walked up and whispered something into God's ear. God's eyes grew big and his smile was the largest anyone had ever seen.

"Alex, that's perfect!!! I will do it tonight. I'd let you watch but no child should see their parents... making a baby."

Alex thanked beard man and jumped for joy, high fiving all the guards on the way out. That very night, Alex's mommy and daddy totally got it on. It was so hot. God sent Alex an email that his gift had been given. Completely excited, Alex watched for days and weeks and waited for his mommy to find out. Mommy was so excited that she cried and cried. Alex knew that mommy knew it was a gift from him. Alex wasn't even jealous because he knew that whether mommy had one more child or twenty more children, that she would never forget him and one day she would join him in heaven to meet all of his lady baby friends and go with him down the chocolate milk water slide.

"I never want you to be sad again, mommy. I love you and I hope this shows you that!"

Gift from an angel

Sunday evening (All Saint's Sunday), was really hard on me. I sat in Alex's room crying and telling him how much we missed him and how hard this was.  I told him we were going to start trying to have another baby and assured him that it wasn't to replace him at all.  It was because of him.  Because we had loved him so very much and that our hearts were so empty and are arms were aching to hold him.  I asked him if he could help bring us another baby so that it wouldn't take as long as it took us to bring him into our lives.  I cried and cried until I fell asleep in the chair in his room.  Woke up several hours later and went into my own room where I slept with his blanket, like I always do.

Strangely, the next day I was at Target picking up a few things and bought some pregnancy tests for some reason.  No real reason since my period wasn't even late yet.  I had to go to the bathroom before I took Emma to school so I did one and stuck it in my purse.

Boy wasn't I surprised to see this when I got to her school:

Totally freaked.  What on earth!  Thought I might be imagining it.  So, of course, it was back to the store for some more tests.  This time I wanted to see it show up in actual words before I'd believe it.

I pretty much hyperventilated right then and there.  I immediately called my OB's office and asked for a beta.  They said no, they don't do that.  Um what?  I've been through infertility, pre-eclampsia, a preemie and SIDS.  I'm getting a damn beta.  So I called Dr. P's office even though I hadn't started treatments yet, just testing.  They did a beta the next morning.  I was upset when it came back at 23, with a progesterone of 10.14.  The nurse wasn't very optimistic and immediately put me on progesterone supplements.  I went back 2 days later for a repeat beta.  In the meantime, I did a few more tests.

When the nurse called with my second beta results, she said she had to double check the social, birthday and name because she couldn't believe they were my results.  My levels had risen to 105 with a progesterone of 28.  Doubling time of less than 24 hours!!!!  Holy cow!!! She said they didn't even need to a third beta and scheduled our first ultrasound for November 21st.  Of course, I had to do one more test...

Okay the test line is darker than the control line. I can officially stop testing. :)  There's really something going on in there.

We have mixed emotions.  Excitement, of course.  We got pregnant on our own without treatments, without even really trying!!  Fear.  Lots and lots of fear.  Of pre-eclampsia again, of miscarriage, that this is too good to be true.  Of loving another baby and it dying.  I don't know if my heart could handle another heartbreak like that. Mostly though... shock.  We're very much in shock.

I don't FEEL pregnant.  I'm nauseous and cranky and very tired.  But I think it might just be me not wanting to get too attached, if that makes sense. I just keep waiting for something bad to happen.

I truly believe this was a gift from Alexander.  A sign that he's up there watching us and listening and knowing how very much we are missing him.

7 weeks

You've already been gone for half of your short life. It feels like it just happened. I walk into your room and it's so strange to not tiptoe quietly. To not see your sweet body sleeping. I have to force myself to remember those things instead of where my mind often wanders in there. The second I realized you weren't breathing. Terrifying. Seeing your already bluish and puffy face. Lifting you into my arms and feeling how limp and lifeless you were. Ahhh, it still cuts me so deeply. Actual physical pain to my heart. The screaming. The crying. The begging. And here come more tears. Will it ever hurt less? Will I ever get used to never holding you again or seeing your smile. And there is the all too familiar throat tightening. Like my own body wants to shut down and die because breathing is too painful. Not knowing what's going to be worse, holding the tears in or letting them out. Afraid to start a new chapter in our lives because I never wanted your chapter to end. A story unfinished. Never to know how it would have ended.

The pain is tremendous. I try so hard to fill my days with activity. And most nights I end up right in the same place. Heartbroken and rocking in your chair. Sobbing in the middle of the night until I fall asleep in the glider. Waking up and reaching out next to me and finding the sleeper empty. Just the blanket you were swaddled in and a wubbanub in there. Silence. No sound machine playing the rain sound that you liked. No breathing. No overhead fan on low. Just silence. Then I walk back to my room and curl up in bed holding one of your blankets. It doesn't have your smell anymore but it still feels like you.

I still don't understand. Maybe I never will.

I just want to go back to my own naive world where babies are joy and bliss. Not this jaded hell where babies die. Where you see pregnant people so happy or new mothers holding their newborns and you don't immediately think "Don't get too attached. Babies die, you know."

And when babies die, parts of their mommy dies with them. A hole left forever.

I miss you. I'm so sorry my love couldn't save you. I'll forever wonder why you couldn't stay.

It slams me when I'm not expecting it

Just as I was sitting here thinking "maybe I'm starting to come to peace with this"... I started looking through some pictures.

This one immediately had me remembering how it felt to caress his back, the feel of his onesie, his soft hair.  Watching the soft rise and fall of his head as he breathed.

Oh baby.  I sure do miss holding you and touching you.  

All Saint's Day

At church today, they honored all the souls who have gone to Heaven in the past year.  Of the list, Alexander was the only child on it.  I did okay through  most of the service but when they read his name, I lost it.  I had to leave and go to the car for the rest of the service because I was having trouble holding it in.  I got to the car as fast as I could and broke down.  Huge, loud, ugly sobs.  I punched the door and screamed inside the car, thankful that everyone was still inside the church. 

I just miss him so much.  I honestly never knew that I could feel pain like this and still live. 

Alex would have been 5 months old today.  I wish I could know what he'd look like by now.  How much weight he'd have put on (if you're a preemie mom, you know all too well how obsessed we are with weight!). Would he be rolling over? 

I hate being plagued with wondering if he's happy.  If he's being loved in Heaven.  That he's not alone.  That he knows how much we all love and miss him.  That we'd go to the ends of earth to bring him back if we could. 

We sent him his balloon today.  Emma chose another kiwi green balloon... this time a circle instead of a heart.  She drew all of us on the back, along with Alexander and her "baby sister" that she insists is coming.  Jeff and I wrote our messages and put the 5 month sticker on the front.  We all kissed it and let go, watching the balloon rise in the sky, praying that it reaches Alex and brings him our kisses and love.

We miss you, sweet baby angel.  So incredibly much.

10 minutes.

As I sit here thinking about how tomorrow would be my son's 5 month birthday, I'm angry.  I'm really angry.  Excuse my language here.... but I'm really fucking pissed off.  I want to rage and I want to break things and I want to scream until my voice is gone.  I want to hit something and punch and kick.  I want to hurt something as badly as I'm hurting. 

Normally I can hold myself together fairly well.  But tonight... I'm falling apart. All the pieces I've worked so hard to put together have come undone again. 

Instead of putting his 5 month sticker on a onesie and making him sit through pictures on the glider with the turtle, I'll be putting the sticker on a balloon and releasing it and hoping it finds him in Heaven. 

I just want to know WHY.  Why my son?  Why did I even get pregnant at all if I was going to have to go through this pain of losing him after going through so much?????  WHAT WAS THE POINT OF ALL OF IT???  I don't understand. 

I don't want a fucking necklace with his ashes around my neck.  I WANT HIS ARMS WRAPPED AROUND MY NECK.   I don't want to kiss his urn and my necklace goodnight every night.  I WANT TO KISS HIS LIPS AND HIS CHEEKS AND HIS FOREHEAD AND EVERY INCH OF HIM.

It hurts.  So much, it hurts.  How much can a heart endure?  How much can a person take before they break so completely that they can never be repaired?  How much pain and despair can you feel before your sanity is tested?

I WANT MY SON BACK.  God damn it.  I worked HARD for him.  I EARNED him.  I DESERVE him.  Don't I?  Don't I deserve him???  I gave myself shots in the stomach, went through surgeries, WAITED TWO LONG YEARS of trying to conceive him and then another 8 months before I was able to hold him in my arms.  I fought hard to keep him alive inside me and he fought hard to stay alive once he was out.  And then he dies during a freaking NAP????  10 minutes.  That's all I was away from him for.  How in the hell does something like this happen so fast????  10 minutes.

In 10 minutes, I went from cuddling and kissing and rocking him to picking up his lifeless body and screaming. 

10 minutes.  

My whole entire life changed in 10 minutes.  It only took 10 minutes to shatter my heart into a thousand pieces.

Why did this happen to me?!  I try so hard to be a good person.  I try to be loving and kind.  I try to be a good mother, sister, wife, daughter, friend, aunt. 

I sit here and I stare at his urn.  It feels so cold when I touch him.  And I'm in awe that his body is reduced to so little that it can fit in that tiny marble box.  I don't want him to be ashes.  I want him to be a living, breathing WARM baby wrapped in my arms. 

Tomorrow is All Saint's Sunday at our church.  I don't know how I'm going to get through it.  They are going to read Alex's name along with all the souls lost since the last one.  We sponsored the altar flowers for tomorrow in honor of Alex's 5 month birthday. 

I know that God only gives you what He believes you can handle.  But for crying out loud.... He's asking WAY too much of me. 

"What doesn't kill you only makes you stronger."  Right?  I'm just praying that this doesn't kill me.  I already feel like it's killed me on the inside.  I'll never be the same again.  I'll never look at the world the same again.  From now on, this is a world where babies die.  Where little tiny, very much loved and wanted babies... die.  And there's nothing you can do to stop it.  Babies die.  They die and it hurts.  It hurts so badly that you want to cut your chest open just to rip out your heart so that the pain will stop. 

I don't think the pain ever stops.  How do you live a life with such pain?

Even the desert has beauty.

Good times and bad times are part of living. It is difficult to fully appreciate joy until you have tasted sadness. Laughter is sweeter if you have experienced tears. There may be times when you feel like you're stuck in a dry and desolate place, but an encouraging call or a hug from a friend can be an oasis; beauty in the desert. Though it may not be easy, try to remember that the trials are going to help you fully experience the joy on the horizon.

Cheated.

Tonight I'm angry.  In fact, I'm furious.  I'm really pissed off that we have to start all over to complete our family.  I'm pissed that I went through hell and back to bring Alexander into this world, only to lose him shortly after.  2 YEARS to get pregnant with him.  Injecting myself with shots daily, hormones all over the place, invasive testing, surgery after surgery, devastation month after month.  And then lo and behold, our miracle pregnancy.  28 weeks later, the fight to keep him began.  Separated from Jeff and Emma, from my friends.  Alone for so much of my days for weeks on end.  Only seeing my daughter for 30 minutes each day, not seeing her for almost 3weeks. Lost the fight at 32 weeks.  Watched my sweet peanut fight for 3 weeks in the NICU.  Not even allowed to SEE him for 6 hours after he was born.  Not even allowed to hold him for 3 days after he was born.  My body failed him.  The one place he should have been the safest and it failed him. 

I had so desperately wanted to VBAC and my doctors were so supportive of it!  I hired a doula to help us and was so excited.  Lost the money we paid to her because she wouldn't refund us even after we found out I couldn't VBAC anymore.  Guaranteed c-section.

The c-section was awful.  My spinal did not take right away and I was tilted almost upside down trying to get it to work.  Sweet boy did not want to come out and I bruised very badly as they had to reach up very far (he was high breech) to try and get him out, yanking and yanking and shaking the operating table.  And then panicking when I didn't hear him cry.  Joy and elation when he finally cried.  Kissing his beautiful face before they took him away.  And then the worst part... my spinal wore off while they were still sewing me up.  I will never forgot how that felt.  I almost threw up.

The recovery was almost as bad as the surgery.  24 hours on magnesium.  Oh my God, I was so sick.  They brought in 2 fans on high because my skin was on fire.  I was cocky and the first few hours didn't affect me at all and then it caught up with me.  I couldn't keep my eyes open.  I passed out constantly mid sentence and even while typing on my phone.  Wheeled into the NICU in my bed and feeling like a horrible mother because I had to ask to leave because the heat from the NICU combined with the mag almost had me throwing up right there in the NICU. I couldn't even see Alex anyway... just a bunch of wires and tubes in his incubator during the brief moments I could stay awake.  Walking was horrible when I was finally forced to get out of bed.  I cried with every step.  Apparently incisions at 32 weeks are harder to heal from than 40 weeks.  Add all of the bedrest on top of it and walking down the hall to the NICU was like running a marathon.

At my 6 week post partum checkup, I was told that if we decided to have more children, I would not be able to VBAC.  I'd have to have a scheduled c-section.  I knew I did not want another c-section recovery so we were done.  We were thrilled with our "million dollar family" and felt complete. 

And then he was gone. 

And here we are starting all over again to have a baby.  Going through the hell of the negative pregnancy tests, injections, spending more money on treatments, blood draws, etc.  No guarantee that we'll even be lucky enough for another miracle. 

I'm angry.  I feel cheated.  I worked damn hard to bring Alexander into this world and I loved him with everything I had.   I loved having a son.  I was so excited about the mother/son bond that I'd heard so much about and was already starting to experience it.

I have so many fears.  What if we don't get pregnant again?  What if we do and I miscarry?  What if I get pre-eclampsia again and we aren't so lucky this time and I, or the baby, or both, die?  I'm so torn and I feel guilty.  I want a healthy baby but will I be sad if I don't get the chance to mother a son again?  And on the other hand, I don't want to start over.  I don't want another baby.  I want Alex.  I want my son back.  I still don't understand. 

The pain is still so awful.  I'm afraid that one of these days, I'm going to start crying and I'm never going to stop.  Most of the time I feel like my shattered heart is  only being held together by scotch tape and won't hold together forever.

Approaching Thanksgiving

One thing I've given a lot of thought to is how I can forever keep Alex's memory alive and honor him.  I'd like to do a variety of different things in his name over different holidays.

For example, Thanksgiving.  It's not a gift giving holiday so I wouldn't have picked out gifts for him.  But I would have and am still very thankful to have had him in my life and been his mother.  He taught me a great deal in his short life and will forever be in my heart.

What I'd like to do in his memory for Thanksgiving is gather donations (money, gift cards to grocery stores, canned goods, frozen turkeys, etc) and 1. donate Thanksgiving food to a local homeless shelter/church/women's shelter/etc so that his beautiful spirit is able to touch someone else's life this Thanksgiving.  And 2. Contact the NICU at Reading to arrange to have Thanksgiving meals prepared and delivered for the nurses/doctors and most importantly, parents/families who will be spending their Thanksgiving at the NICU with their babies instead of at home. 

If you would be interested in helping me with this, I'd love it!!!

Even if only one person or family is helped, that's one person who's Alex's life has touched in some way this Thanksgiving.