I sit a lot and pretend a lot. I know it's not healthy and doesn't achieve anything, but it is so nice to just pretend for a few minutes that she didn't die. Here's how it goes...
October 1st, 2010 -
We go in for our ultrasound and see Nathan. "He looks great. We think he's close to 7 pounds. He's got a strong heartbeat. Looks like he is growing and doing great." Then we see Alexis. "She also looks great. We think she is about 6 and a 1/2 pounds. Look at that strong heartbeat. She is growing really well." We talk to the doctor and she says, "Things are looking great for both babies. I really believe you will be able to carry the babies until your scheduled c-section in a few weeks."
October 22nd, 2010 -
We arrive for our scheduled c-section. I get prepped for delivery. I am laying on the table and hear a strong cry. "It's a boy!!!" Lee tells me that Nathan looks perfect. A couple of minutes later I hear another strong cry. "It's a girl!!!" Lee tells me that Alexis looks perfect. I start to cry tears of immense joy. Then a few minutes later Lee brings over the precious babies. I look at each of them and they look the same. I kiss them both, tears rolling down my cheeks. I am so happy and overwhelmed with gratitude to God. I get in my room and the babies are brought in. They are just beautiful. All of our family and friends come in and hold them. It is the greatest day of our lives.
We bring the babies home. It's crazy and overwhelming, but we are so thrilled to have two precious babies. They grow and change more and more each day. They sleep together, play together, and it's so fun watching them together.
I know it's silly to play this game, but it feels so good to just pretend sometimes.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Thursday, February 24, 2011
One Year Ago Today
One year ago today I got a positive pregnancy test for the twins. It was so exciting. I called Lee, my mom, my mother-in-law, and my sister. I was so excited!!! Who would have known that a month later we would see two heartbeats, 14 weeks later we would find out we were having a boy (Nathan Reid) and a girl (Alexis Faith), and 31 weeks later I would have the worst day and one of the best days of my life all wrapped up into one day.
It's been one of the best years of my life. I got to be pregnant with two precious babies. I got to grow two lives in my body. I got to hear, "It's twins!" "It's a boy!" "It's a girl" I got to have 3 awesome baby showers and get spoiled with gifts and fun (and lots of yummy cake). I got to decorate the most beautiful nursery. I got to anticipate so many wonderful things. I got to have my precious son, Nathan Reid. He has been the biggest blessing in my life. He has given me joy and happiness on days when I would've just liked to stay in bed away from the world. When he smiles I see hope.
It's been the worst year of my life. A lot of the above was crushed when I heard, "Baby B doesn't have a heartbeat." Baby B was my sweet Alexis Faith. It was the worst day of my life when I lost her. It has been really hard these past few months.
It's been a crazy year - lots of happiness, sadness, joy, grief, pain, heartache, and overwhelming closeness to the Lord. The one thing I know for sure in all of this is that God is the same today as we was yesterday and will be tomorrow. He has me in His hands and won't drop me. He will carry me through each day of my life. He understands my pain.
It's been one of the best years of my life. I got to be pregnant with two precious babies. I got to grow two lives in my body. I got to hear, "It's twins!" "It's a boy!" "It's a girl" I got to have 3 awesome baby showers and get spoiled with gifts and fun (and lots of yummy cake). I got to decorate the most beautiful nursery. I got to anticipate so many wonderful things. I got to have my precious son, Nathan Reid. He has been the biggest blessing in my life. He has given me joy and happiness on days when I would've just liked to stay in bed away from the world. When he smiles I see hope.
It's been the worst year of my life. A lot of the above was crushed when I heard, "Baby B doesn't have a heartbeat." Baby B was my sweet Alexis Faith. It was the worst day of my life when I lost her. It has been really hard these past few months.
It's been a crazy year - lots of happiness, sadness, joy, grief, pain, heartache, and overwhelming closeness to the Lord. The one thing I know for sure in all of this is that God is the same today as we was yesterday and will be tomorrow. He has me in His hands and won't drop me. He will carry me through each day of my life. He understands my pain.
So Glad I Blogged
When I was pregnant with Luke we were not in the digital age quite yet. We were a little behind, so we didn't have a digital camera or camcorder, so I only have a handful of pictures from my pregnancy. I only took a few notes on my pregnancy and never even thought to blog the entire thing.
This time, since I was a little more digital and was having twins, I decided to take progressional pictures each week and blog and Facebook them. In addition, I would blog my thoughts on a pretty regular basis. Each week I would fill in a survey of what the pregnancy was like.
At times I wondered if I was being self-indulgent and I probably was, but I am so thankful that I did it all. I only had 35 weeks with my Alexis Faith and I am glad that I chronicled it all. Now I can see pictures of my belly and know she was alive and well and I was so happy growing her and Nathan each week. I can read all the details of my pregnancy including my thoughts about the babies.
I have a horrible memory unless things are written down so I am glad that I can go back and read things and it jogs my memory. I am just so glad I blogged.
This time, since I was a little more digital and was having twins, I decided to take progressional pictures each week and blog and Facebook them. In addition, I would blog my thoughts on a pretty regular basis. Each week I would fill in a survey of what the pregnancy was like.
At times I wondered if I was being self-indulgent and I probably was, but I am so thankful that I did it all. I only had 35 weeks with my Alexis Faith and I am glad that I chronicled it all. Now I can see pictures of my belly and know she was alive and well and I was so happy growing her and Nathan each week. I can read all the details of my pregnancy including my thoughts about the babies.
I have a horrible memory unless things are written down so I am glad that I can go back and read things and it jogs my memory. I am just so glad I blogged.
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
Lost Innocence
When I was pregnant with Luke I had this innocence. I found out I was pregnant and told the whole world (well everyone that I knew). I never worried one second about anything and the word "miscarriage" was foreign to me. I had a perfect pregnancy and didn't even have an ounce of morning sickness. Yes you can hate me. LOL. I did get to carry him an "extra" 8 days and had a 26 hour labor with a c-section to finally get him out, so I guess I got some payback for such a smooth pregnancy. I had no fears, no worries. I just assumed, "You get pregnant, you stay pregnant, and you have a baby at the end."
Then a few years down the road, I got pregnant again. Again, I had this innocence about me. Again, I told everyone including my 500 Facebook friends. And then the unthinkable happened...I had a miscarriage at 6 weeks. I never thought in a million years that I would lose a baby. I knew it happened but I just didn't think it would happen to me. I lived in a little bubble of innocence. The doctor called it a "chemical pregnancy" and told me I would probably get pregnant really easily again and it probably wouldn't happen again.
Well a couple of months later, I was pregnant again. I was so happy but this time I had my concerns, "What if I have an early miscarriage again? What if it doesn't take? I don't think I could go through that again." Well at almost 8 weeks, I started spotting. I just knew it was happening again. I was so sad. When we went for the 8 week ultrasound I just wanted to see a healthy baby. I got my prayer times two. We saw two healthy babies. I remember seeing that second heartbeat and just being so happy and overwhelmed with gratitude to God.
I remember being a little nervous about losing one or both because I knew that the chances were higher. When we got to 12 weeks and saw them both so perfect on the ultrasound I was relieved. I had gotten to "THE SAFETY POINT." You know, all the bad stuff happens in the 1st trimester, or so I innocently believed. I thought that we were good to go. I enjoyed the 2nd trimester feeling the kicks, feeling better, eating, and growing our babies. We had extra ultrasounds so I got to see that they were perfect everytime. It was awesome. I just knew everything was going to be okay.
Fast forward to our 35 week ultrasound. On October 1st, 2010, I heard the worst news I've ever heard in my life, "Baby B doesn't have a heartbeat and has passed away." Baby B was my sweet Alexis Faith. I've never hurt or cried so hard in my life. I've never seen my husband so broken. It was the worst day of my life coupled with one of the best days of my life as it was the day our son, Nathan Reid, was born. It was the most surreal day of my life. I had to experience such joy and such pain within seconds of each other.
The past few months have been filled with happiness, sadness, joy, grief, pain, heartbreak, and lots of personal and spiritual reflection. One of the harder things to deal with is my lost innocence. Everytime I hear of a baby about to be born, I wonder, "Will they be still born?" I never thought of that before in my life. I just assumed, "You get pregnant, you stay pregnant (especially when you get to a certain point), and you have a baby at the end." Now I always wonder, "Will they actually have a baby at the end?"
I hate that I wonder that. I hate that the first thing my mind goes to is stillbirth or miscarriage. I hate that my innocence is gone.
I know that if I get pregnant again that I will give the pregnancy and baby to God just like I always do, but I know that I will have those thoughts creep in. "Will there be a baby at the end?" I will enjoy my pregnancy and hope and plan and prepare, but I know that those thoughts will creep in. I am praying now that God will give me complete peace and comfort for any future pregnancies and babies I may have.
Then a few years down the road, I got pregnant again. Again, I had this innocence about me. Again, I told everyone including my 500 Facebook friends. And then the unthinkable happened...I had a miscarriage at 6 weeks. I never thought in a million years that I would lose a baby. I knew it happened but I just didn't think it would happen to me. I lived in a little bubble of innocence. The doctor called it a "chemical pregnancy" and told me I would probably get pregnant really easily again and it probably wouldn't happen again.
Well a couple of months later, I was pregnant again. I was so happy but this time I had my concerns, "What if I have an early miscarriage again? What if it doesn't take? I don't think I could go through that again." Well at almost 8 weeks, I started spotting. I just knew it was happening again. I was so sad. When we went for the 8 week ultrasound I just wanted to see a healthy baby. I got my prayer times two. We saw two healthy babies. I remember seeing that second heartbeat and just being so happy and overwhelmed with gratitude to God.
I remember being a little nervous about losing one or both because I knew that the chances were higher. When we got to 12 weeks and saw them both so perfect on the ultrasound I was relieved. I had gotten to "THE SAFETY POINT." You know, all the bad stuff happens in the 1st trimester, or so I innocently believed. I thought that we were good to go. I enjoyed the 2nd trimester feeling the kicks, feeling better, eating, and growing our babies. We had extra ultrasounds so I got to see that they were perfect everytime. It was awesome. I just knew everything was going to be okay.
Fast forward to our 35 week ultrasound. On October 1st, 2010, I heard the worst news I've ever heard in my life, "Baby B doesn't have a heartbeat and has passed away." Baby B was my sweet Alexis Faith. I've never hurt or cried so hard in my life. I've never seen my husband so broken. It was the worst day of my life coupled with one of the best days of my life as it was the day our son, Nathan Reid, was born. It was the most surreal day of my life. I had to experience such joy and such pain within seconds of each other.
The past few months have been filled with happiness, sadness, joy, grief, pain, heartbreak, and lots of personal and spiritual reflection. One of the harder things to deal with is my lost innocence. Everytime I hear of a baby about to be born, I wonder, "Will they be still born?" I never thought of that before in my life. I just assumed, "You get pregnant, you stay pregnant (especially when you get to a certain point), and you have a baby at the end." Now I always wonder, "Will they actually have a baby at the end?"
I hate that I wonder that. I hate that the first thing my mind goes to is stillbirth or miscarriage. I hate that my innocence is gone.
I know that if I get pregnant again that I will give the pregnancy and baby to God just like I always do, but I know that I will have those thoughts creep in. "Will there be a baby at the end?" I will enjoy my pregnancy and hope and plan and prepare, but I know that those thoughts will creep in. I am praying now that God will give me complete peace and comfort for any future pregnancies and babies I may have.
Monday, February 21, 2011
"Normal"
Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age they would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember them.
Normal is that everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have a child, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have no children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.
Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.
Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.
Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age they would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.
Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".
Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.
Normal is making sure that others remember them.
Normal is that everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.
Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.
Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.
Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.
Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.
Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why healthy babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.
Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.
Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have a child, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have no children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.
Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.
And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".
Sunday, February 20, 2011
A Butterfly
A butterfly lights beside us like a sunbeam
And for a brief moment its glory
and beauty belong to our world
But then it flies again
And though we wish it could have stayed...
We feel lucky to have seen it.
Author Unknown
And for a brief moment its glory
and beauty belong to our world
But then it flies again
And though we wish it could have stayed...
We feel lucky to have seen it.
Author Unknown
The Bereaved Mother
“Do not judge the bereaved mother.
She comes in many forms.
She is breathing, but she is dying.
She may look young, but inside she has become ancient.
She smiles, but her heart sobs.
She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS,
but she IS NOT, all at once.
She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.”
–Author Unknown
I found this on another grieving mother's blog and it spoke to me in so many ways.
I know this woman.
I am this woman.
She comes in many forms.
She is breathing, but she is dying.
She may look young, but inside she has become ancient.
She smiles, but her heart sobs.
She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works, she IS,
but she IS NOT, all at once.
She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.”
–Author Unknown
I found this on another grieving mother's blog and it spoke to me in so many ways.
I know this woman.
I am this woman.
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