Triggers

Driving today, I ended up behind an ambulance and I freaked.  All of a sudden I was right back to that day almost 9 months ago, riding in the ambulance with Alexander and screaming at the paramedics to save him.  I had to pull over because I literally could no longer see the road. I couldn't see anything except that exact moment in the ambulance.  Calling Jeff at work and screaming/sobbing at him to come immediately because Alex wasn't breathing.  Calling my mom at work and begging her to come from Maryland.  The frantic looks on the paramedics faces because Alex kept crashing and they couldn't get him back.  Seeing the pain in their own eyes as they were most likely thinking of their own children at home.  Realizing that the police had actually created roadblocks and stopped traffic from coming off the on-ramps so that the ambulance wouldn't have to stop.

On paper, Alex has been gone so much longer than he was actually with us.  But somehow it doesn't feel like there ever was a time that he wasn't with us. 

I'm still waiting to "feel" him around me.  I read so much about it and how you can just feel your loved ones around you but I haven't felt that.  I felt it when my dad passed away.  Perhaps it doesn't work the same for babies?  I don't know.  I just wish I felt him.  I wish I knew if he was really out there somewhere in the universe. 

I wonder how long it will be in my life before I can see an ambulance or emergency room without flashing back. 

Alone.

I've read about it but never really believed it.  But it seems that people with experience tell the truth.  As time goes by, it feels like everyone has disappeared.  Forgotten what happened.  Moved on with their lives.

And it feels like they expect me to as well.  But instead, things get worse.  I cry every night after everyone goes to sleep.  I go through all of Alex's pictures and videos and I cry harder.   No one talks about him anymore.  No one reaches out to see how I'm doing.  No one has even brought up his birthday or asked if I'm doing alright as it gets closer. 

Alex's birthday is in 3 days.  I cannot believe he's not here to celebrate it.  That we'll never know if he would smash the cake and make a huge mess or be prissy like his sister and barely touch it.  We'll never know what kind of gifts he'd get or if he'd try to open them himself.  We'll never know if he'd be walking by his birthday like Emma or just crawling.   Right now I should be stressing about all of the details of his party, making sure everything has been ordered and is ready.   Not making sure we have enough Sharpies for everyone to write on the balloons we are going to release to him in Heaven or worrying if I'll be strong enough to go to the NICU floor and drop off the hats and sleepers we have for them.  I should be excited that Jeff is taking the entire day off to celebrate his birthday.... not that I'm grateful to have him at home just in case I can't even take care of Emma because I'll be such a mess.

We started getting things out for Zoe and getting ready.  I put up the jumperoo and had no issues with that because he never lived long enough to use it.  But when it came to the swing... I seriously just wanted to smash it into a million pieces rather than bear to put it up.  I know that all I'll see is him cooing at the animal mobile above his head and curled up swaying to the nature sounds.  Same thing for the bouncy seats.  They are both full of memories of Alex.  I thought I'd be able to use them for Zoe but I'm just not sure I can.  My grief is still so fresh and new.  He hasn't even been gone a year. 

Down the rabbit hole

And here I go again.  Falling down that spiraling rabbit hole of darkness again.  Where I just want to hide away in my house and not talk to or deal with anyone.  Where instead of feeling excited or happy about certain things, I feel bitter, angry and jealous.  Where I know that my reactions aren't normal and I can't talk about them to anyone because no one would understand. 

Sometimes I feel more broken than is possible to repair.  That my heart will never be whole again.  That the pain will ever go away.  That I'll go a full day without crying.  That fear and anxiety won't be a permanent fixture in my life. 

I don't want to not miss him or forget about him.  Not by any means.  I just want to not hurt so much anymore.  Almost 8 months later and I still remember every single thing about him.  His soft crazy hair, his sweet lips, the way his skin smelled and felt, his face buried into my neck. His sleep squeaks. The way he grabbed his Wubbanubs and held them tightly.  His big beautiful smile.

I hate that I only get a couple of hours to really let it all out.  I wait until Jeff has gone to bed and stay up really late to just cry it all out and then wake up in the morning and hold it in all day long until everyone has gone to bed and repeat. 

I hate that I can't feel happiness over any baby born since Alex died because I'm so consumed with jealousy and bitterness. 

I hate that instead of enjoying my pregnancy, I want to rush to the end so I can have the baby here and hover over her and hook her up to an apnea monitor and watch her 24/7 to make sure she's alive and breathing. 

I hate that I can't just be normal anymore.  That I can't buy a new Rock N Play for Zoe, even though she would probably sleep great in it, because Alex died in one.  I hate that other people can use them without giving it a second thought.  I hate that I'll never sleep without fear of waking up to find my child dead.  That I've considered never letting Zoe nap.  Ever.  Or only napping on me. 

I hate that I'll never be the mother she deserves.  Whole and complete and unbroken.  That she'll grow up in the shadow of sadness. 

CVS is scheduled...

I had wavered and thought about not doing it after all but Jeff really wants to get it done.  It's scheduled for March 19th.  We should have the FISH results back within 48 hours letting us know if there is Trisomy, 13, 18 or 21... and the gender. 

I'm still very nervous because there is a very small risk of miscarriage (.3%) and let's face it, our luck sucks lately.  But the person doing my procedure has been doing it since the procedure was invented and even helped to pioneer the procedure so I feel confident that he's very good.  Jefferson University Hospital is one of the BEST places to have it done so that makes me feel better as well. 

Today I go for my preliminary bloodwork and tomorrow I start my first 24 hour urine test to get my baseline protein for this pregnancy.  Dear protein, stay FAR away from this pregnancy, okay?

Giving this another shot....

We had a D&C in December, right before Christmas.  A month later, I went in to see Dr. P, our RE, for a consult on TTC again and starting treatments.  I mentioned that I still hadn't gotten my period and that I had gotten some positive pregnancy tests.  I told him we had only had sex twice in that last month, with no thoughts of getting pregnant.  Based on our history and that we were on a d&c cycle, he was convinced that it was retained tissue from the d&c and scheduled me for a second d&c 2 days later and ordered blood tests.  When they called that afternoon, something in my gut just told me to cancel the d&c so I asked for a few more blood tests to see what was going on before we went ahead with the surgery.  4 days later, my HCG level had increased.  4 more days later, it increased again. Since the idea of me having become pregnant was so inconceivable, he thought I had a rare placental tumor that would require chemotherapy.  We came back a few more days later for more tests.... And then we saw a gestational sac on the ultrasound.  Holy cow.  Dr. P was blown away. 

Fast forward to Friday... our miracle baby is now almost 10 weeks old.

Michelle, the ultrasound tech, was surprised that we were able to see the arms and legs so clearly!!! She said that the baby was moving around like crazy and had a wonderful heartbeat of 175!!

My OB's office has been truly wonderful.  They know the hell we've been through in the last year and they are being beyond amazing.  Instead of having appointments every 4 weeks like normal, I go every 2 weeks.  They are going to monitor me extremely closely with many ultrasounds, 24 hour urine tests, etc. 

We are currently debating CVS testing.  I am not sure that I could handle delivering a baby with Trisomy 13 or 18 and having to bury another baby.  The risk of miscarriage is low but there is still a risk and I'm afraid that we'd be in that small percentage like we have been for everything else so far.

Oddly... this baby is due October 1, 2012.  Only 1 week after Alexander's death date, September 23rd.  Since I'm supposed to have a scheduled c-section at 39 weeks (if we're lucky enough to escape pre-eclampsia this time), it was difficult to imagine having a baby born at the same time that our son died.  I felt that the baby's birthday would always be overshadowed with grief and sadness.  The OB's office agreed wholeheartedly and we will do an amnio at 37-38 weeks to check the lung maturity and deliver around 38 weeks instead of 39 weeks.

In the meantime.... we just pray and hope that everything goes well.

Closure?

Hardly.

The coroner's office called on Friday.  The autopsy had finally been completed 5 months after his death.  The results?  Inconclusive.  They determined, by exclusion, that he died of sudden unexplained infant death due to his prematurity.

So basically, we know as much as we knew 5 months ago.  Nothing.

Part of you wants so badly for there to be a REASON.  Something to blame it on.  Some tangible reason why his life was taken from us so early, after so little time together.

And all there is to blame is prematurity.

Eff you, prematurity.  Eff you, pre-eclampsia.

What was the POINT?!  What was the point in the month of bed rest in the hospital?  The 3 weeks of him hooked up to wires and tubes in the NICU?   Why on earth did we have to go through all of that fighting to lose him when we thought we were finally in the clear????

I don't understand.  Did I do something to deserve this?  One of Jeff's friends told me that I did.  That I deserved to have him die.  And that's all I can think about sometimes.  Did I anger God by getting divorced and this is my punishment?   Did I anger God by having a baby when we weren't married?   Did I anger God for defying nature and seeking infertility treatments to become pregnant?

And if I did deserve it for some reason, why did HE deserve it????  He was a tiny, innocent, sweet and perfect baby.  He deserved a long life full of love and first kisses and getting married and playing sports and annoying his sister and having his own children.   He was cheated out of so much.

I recently read a book called, "Heaven is for Real" and I'm trying desperately to cling to the ideals of the book.  That there really is a Heaven.  That God and Jesus are there taking care of and loving our children, even the babies that we miscarried.  That my loved ones (my Mema, Grandpa and Dad) are there loving them and caring for them until we are able to be with them again. 

Triggers.

When you least expect it, there are triggers that knock you off your feet.  Today I was grocery shopping and wandered down the baby aisle.  Usually I'm okay with this.  Today, however.... I passed the baby food and stopped and looked.   And I almost lost it.  All I could think of was what kind of baby food would Alexander be eating?  What would be his favorite?  What would he hate?  How funny would his first taste of food have been?  Would he be independent like his sister and insist on trying to feed himself? 

Which then led to thoughts of... would he be chubby by now?  Would he still have red hair?  Would his eyes still be blue?

I watched a video this morning of when he was born.  Of his very first angry cry.  Of the oxygen mask on his face and the NICU team stimulating him.  He was so very tiny. 

For such a tiny little baby, the hole in my heart is so very huge.