NST + AFI.

Today we had our second NST, and it also included an Amniotic Fluid Index ultrasound. When we got back to the NST room, it took the nurse 10,000 hours to find the heartbeat and it caused some serious PTSD. I think that Alden was laying weird because her HB was eventually found pretty low in a weird place; this did not make me too happy. Later after Shane went to work, he text me and said that he was freaked out and had some PTSD from it too. I hate that we both feel these things, but I’m so thankful that he understands how I’m feeling.

Baby A’s baseline heart rate was in the 150s. She passed her NST with flying colors; showing us many accelerations up into the 170s. The ultrasound tech came in and did the scan to check fluid levels. Her fluid levels look perfect, so I was pretty happy about that. She was so kind, and tried to show us some views of Alden but the machine was just a little mini version of a regular one so it didn’t work out too well. She was able to get me one picture of her face. Her cheeks are so chubby and beautiful.

When we got to the car Shane said “she looks just like Kenley”.

I already know she is going to look identical to her older sister (and Landon), and I don’t know how prepared I am for that. I am so anxious to see her, to hear her scream when she comes out. 34 days.

I got some picture frames today, and was able to put some of Alden’s art work in them. I’m really happy with the stuff we chose. Shane put the drawers back in the dresser today, and put the handles back on. It looks really really good. I’m still sad that it’s not the coral color, but it is what it is. We put the rug back down, and just sort of hung out in there for a little while before he went to work.

I wish we would win the lotto so Shane could stay home all day every day with me.

 

Dresser. 

Today was the day. 

We painted over the color I spent months trying to find for Kenley’s dresser. When I found out I was pregnant with a girl, I looked at probably 8 different shades of coral.  I knew this one was it when I saw the paint chip. It was pink without being salmon, and orange without being too much like an apricot. 

It was perfection. 

And now, it’s gone. I know you’re thinking it’s “just” paint, and it’s “just” a dresser, right? Wrong. It was for my baby girl. I knew in my heart that some day I would tell her how long it took me to find that perfect color for her; I knew one day she would grow up and tell me how much she loved it. 

Shane told me a while ago that he would paint it for me after I had a major melt down while talking to him about it. But, somehow, it has been pushed to the back of the to do list. I know it’s extremely hard for him, and we talked about it today. Before we started painting I was crying just thinking about actually doing it. Guilt. So much guilt and sadness. 

He looked at me, grabbed my hand, and said “we will do it together”. 

I am the luckiest woman alive, I believe. 

So, together, through many tears on my part, we painted her dresser. We painted our daughter’s dresser; our second loved and oh so wanted daughter. 


Shane also painted her name letters yesterday, as well. They are gold, but l know they don’t look like it here. 

Painting her dresser, their dresser, was extremely emotional. The dresser is the last piece of “Kenley’s nursery” that we had left. The last remaining specific decor piece and it just felt like someone put that final nail in my coffin for lack of better words. They just reminded me that my daughter is gone, and she will NEVER be alive to enjoy the things I created for her. 

That…is a really really hard pill to swallow all over again. 

It seems like once a day I have to deal with something reminding me that she’s gone. Not just when I open my eyes and see her picture on my nightstand instead of her sweet face. Not when I feel her abscence in the silence of every day life. Not even when I walk by my dresser and see her urn, memory box and the bear I have that weighs as much as her. 

I’m talking a gut wrenching reminder that she is not here. 

Like when your insurance lists her as “deceased” on their website…with one date next to her name. Never to have a single claim billed for her medical care. 

Or when they deny coverage of the blood tests that ultimately proved you have a blood clotting disorder that killed her. 

Or when your son says he’s scared for the new baby because he “doesn’t want her to die, too”. 

I’m scared for the new baby too, buddy. 

I’m so incredibly scared. 

32 weeks today. 5 weeks to go. 

birthday.

Today my sweet little boy turns 6. How is that possible? If I really stop and think about it, it’s super hard to remember my pregnancy with him. There are a few things that I remember about the day. I remember waking up having a terrible headache and around noon I finally decided to go get my BP checked.

I remember the Super Bowl was on in the Hospital room. I remember keeping my bra on the entire day and a nurse asking me why. I remember after the super bowl, a nurse came in and handed me 2 percocets and said “Here, take these, we’re having a baby tonight!”. I remember Shane calling our families to tell them to make the drive to us. I remember my doctor delivering Landon in Green Bay Packers scrubs (they had just won the super bowl) and telling us that Aaron Rogers was a good name for a boy. I remember seeing Landon for the first time, and feeling more love than I ever knew possible. I remember my doctor stitching me back together after my c-section, talking to the other doctor about the movie Seabiscuit.

And that’s about the extent of my memory. I was on a lot of medication for my blood pressure so I’m convinced that it messed me up.

I’m so thankful people took tons of videos and pictures because sadly, I think that’s how I will always remember his birth.

I am so thankful to have this little man in my life, and I am so thankful that I delivered him early due to pre eclampsia because my clotting issue was undiagnosed back then, and well…I just can’t even think about that.

I love you Landon. You are so incredibly amazing.

 

Party.

Landon’s party went well. He had a few friends show up; there were a total of 6 kids here yesterday! They had a great time. They spent most the party in the basement running around like crazy little people. I was so happy to see him having a good time, and enjoying himself.

Tomorrow I start my NST’s twice a week. It also looks like I’m having a BPP on Thursdays NST too, so I’m kind of excited for that.

Today was a weird day; I took Landon to my Mother in laws this afternoon and I tried to rest. I haven’t been able to sleep very well as this baby is making me pee a thousand times a night. She seems to think that when I wake up to pee, and then lay back down, that she can just dance around and keep me up. I think she’s just pumped that she has space to move around again.

Shane knew I was having a rough day so when he came home he was holding a bouquet of Irises. Beautiful purple Irises. I cried.

I am so thankful for him. He is such an amazing human being.

38 days until we meet Landon and Kenley’s little sister. I cannot wait.

 

randoms…again. 

**Trigger Warning- Ultrasound photos in this post**

I spent the majority of the day cleaning house for tomorrow. Landon’s having his birthday party! Can’t believe we’re celebrating him turning six. Ugh. It gives me all the feels and also makes me a little anxious, I won’t lie. 
My mom and step dad came down today and were here to see Landon get off the bus. It’s nice for them because they love so far away that they never get to see him do the daily things. He was pretty surprised they were here; I told him they weren’t going to be here until around 6pm. 

Tomorrow we’re going to be so busy all day and I’m already stressing out about it. I think I’m just a super anxious person by nature so added with the death of my daughter, and everything else, I’m doomed pretty much. Major family functions will never be the same; I have fully accepted this. 

I can’t help but remember how awful I felt last year at Landon’s party. Kenley had just died like a month earlier and I was in the raw grief/shock stage. It seriously is enough to just knock the wind out of me when I think back to then. I’m proud of how far I’ve come, yes, but it is still just so weird to think about. 

••••••••••



On Thursday we had a growth ultrasound for Alden. I was anxiously looking forward to this for the past 4 weeks; I don’t think I can see her enough. This was such a different feeling ultrasound; I had probably the first pure excitement I’ve felt this entire pregnancy which I consider a HUGE deal. 

The tech told us she had hair! That what made me excited. I asked if she could see, and she went looking for it. When she found it, she showed it to us and I think a part of my heart just melted. She said “wow she has a good amount of hair for 31 weeks!”. 

Swoon. 

The tech also showed us how she was laying inside of me (because I’ve been getting random kicks and seriously wanted to know what was kicking me where). We found out she’s laying like a boomerang! Head down to the right side, butt in my lower left ribs and feet in the lower right ribs 🙂 

That makes perfect sense. 

They say she is in the 87th percentile, and weighing in at a whopping 4lbs 14oz! Almost 5 lbs?!? Yikes. Good thing she’s a c-section! We were so happy to see her. 

We also were able to watch her practice her breathing. Such a beautiful image; I never got to see it with Landon or Kenley. 

Now for some pictures. 

A 3D view of her looking straight at us. One eye, nose and lips are shown here.

The white lines next to the word “hair” is her hair! Apparently she has a bunch!

A perfect little profile view (snuggled up to my anterior placenta- the white thing at the top of the pic)


Starting Monday I have biweekly NSTs, so that makes me feel comfortable. I’m hoping she looks amazing and passes all of them with flying colors. I am so ready to have you here, my love. 

We bought a Halo Bassinet yesterday. I’m hoping it’s worth it because holy $$$. 


Even as I type all the happy things having to do with this pregnancy, I cannot help but feel that everything will end the exact same way it did before; how can it not when this is my life now? 

 

31.

Thirty one weeks. 

Six weeks left. 

Anxiety is ramping up because I remember being here last year. 

But now it’s so different; filled with sadness and less excitement. Anxiety and less happiness. I can’t wait to hold you in my arms, but I can’t even allow myself to think that. 

I look at the count down and it says 42 days until you’re born; your sister died with only 7 days left on her countdown. 

Seven days. 

One week. 

I don’t feel safe yet, and I never will. 

We have an ultrasound in the morning and I am so excited to see you. 

six.

Last year, on 2/7, Landon turned 5. I remember (before Kenley died) spending so much time thinking about how “stressed out” I was going to feel for his birthday party. How was I going to throw it all together when I had a newborn? How was I going to make it special for him with his new sister in the mix? I had plans to have him Paw Patrol party, and I was going to dress Kenley up as one of the dogs to surprise him. Instead, the reality of the situation was, how can I walk through party city and buy paper plates without bursting into tears (I couldn’t)? How can I function enough to make this day special to him because his sister just died and isn’t here to celebrate with us (still not sure I succeeded).

It’s stuff like this that I really kick myself for. Sure, I didn’t know that Kenley wasn’t going to survive, so technically I shouldn’t beat myself up for that. However, I should have been thinking about all the awesome ways that I would be spending Landon’s birthday with him AND his sister- not how stressed out I was going to be. How dumb and naive I was.

This year, as Landon’s birthday started to creep closer, I found myself on Amazon. What can I buy on Amazon so that I don’t have to go to the store (read: so I can avoid a panic attack/PTSD flash backs)? I found everything online. I didn’t have to go to a store, and I found that I was better able to control my anxiety here at my house vs actually walking into the store again.

*Side note*

You know, as I sit here and write these things out all I can think is “god people probably think I’m a giant loser cry baby”…

That’s totally fine.

Think whatever you want to think about grief, but, try not to judge us who are grieving the death of a child too harshly. And, I hope with all of my heart that you never ever have to grieve the way that I am.

Anyway, I am pretty happy with how everything has turned out. He’s having a minecraft party, so I was able to buy a lot of the stuff on Etsy, which was cool.

So here we are again, at a birthday milestone. Six. He is going to be six. He was turning 5 and so excited for his sister to be there, and I couldn’t even give him that. Sure I’m pregnant now and things are looking good for her to come very soon, but let’s be honest here…I’m pretty sure his little mind doesn’t understand if he will ever get a real living sibling. I can try to explain it to him over and over, but, I’m sure he won’t believe it until she’s here either.

Can’t say that I blame him.

 

 

One down. 

Landon lost his first tooth today! He went from excitement, to sheer terror every couple of minutes. When he finally pushed it so far back that it was turned sideways, you would have thought someone stabbed him. He cried and drooled and had snot coming out of his nose at incredible speeds. 

I told him to calm down, reached in, and yanked it out. Poor little guy, tried to be so brave, but just lost his shit. He bled a little but that didn’t seem to phase him which I thought was weird. He’s more of a “gets in his own head” type of worrier. He thought it was going to hurt bad so he freaked himself out, when in all reality it didn’t hurt at all cus the damn thing was dead lol. 


Stop growing up little man. I can’t believe he will be 6 on February 7th. I think back to my pregnancy with him and I am now so thankful he came at 35+6. Had he gone full term I can’t even think about what might have happened (thanks to this blood clotting bullshit). He’s my little miracle baby. 

He’s reading! Like…actually reading real books with real words that aren’t repetitive. He’s doing math problems. He’s writing words, and taking spelling tests. He’s growing up so fast. He’s extremely tall and lanky, gorgeous and so full of energy. I hope he never changes. 


Sometimes I try to get him to cuddle with me, or let me hold him how I used to when he was a baby. He usually doesn’t let me, but on the very rare chance he does, I eat it up and am taken back to when he was first born. There was no greater joy than to hold him close and watch him sleep. 

I miss him as a baby so much. 

What I wish people knew about losing a child.

It feels like such a cop out to say “you will never understand how it feels until it happens to you”, but that is the only way to properly convey this type of pain.  Many can only sympathize, and there are few that can fully empathize with the pain. I believe truly that it is too hard for people to actually empathize because no one wants to put themselves in our shoes. Why would they? Why would anyone want to truly try and feel the pain that accompanies losing a child? I’ve been thinking about a few things regarding what I wish people knew about losing a child, so I decided I would write about them here. What better place, right?

 

Just because time passes, doesn’t mean that I am (or things are) better.

The grief of losing a child is not linear. There are days where I feel great, and there are days where I honestly wish I could just be with my Daughter at all costs. The pain will never “go away”.  Sure, it might lessen, change, or I might just become better at carrying my grief on a daily basis, but it will NEVER go away. If you think by looking at me that I’m feeling better, you’re terribly mistaken. I am missing my Daughter; she died inside of me and I couldn’t do anything to save her. It’s not a pain that someone gets over, ever. The guilt is no joke.  The love I have in my heart for her is not a flame that can be put out, and I would hope that everyone understands that. I will grieve differently day to day, from now until the day that I die, and people need to understand that. Sometimes you should really just give me a fucking pat on the back for even getting out of bed.

Yes. Still. Even after a year. And probably for the rest of my life.

 

• Losing a child doesn’t have to destroy your marriage like statistics say.

One of the scariest statistics I read after our daughter was stillborn was that up to 80 percent of marriages end in divorce after the loss of a child. I remember reading this percentage, and then re-reading it, to convince myself that I’d read it correctly. 80 percent?! Was that even possible?–Paul (a guest post on still standing)

After Kenley died, I never wanted Shane to leave my side. I had to be held at night to sleep. I needed him to be near me at all times. He was my security blanket, for lack of better words, and still is. I know that many people feel differently about their relationships after loss. Some women feel that their husbands are “over” the loss, or that their feelings aren’t taken into consideration. I’ve personally talked to many loss moms who feel this way. Some say that their relationship suffers in that they can’t talk about the loss to their husbands, for whatever reason. Some mention they don’t feel attractive to their husbands anymore, which makes their sex life suffer, which inevitably makes them feel sad and alone.

I asked Shane’s opinion on the subject and he had some really interesting things to say. He mentioned to me that there were times around the 5-6 month mark where he started to feel better, but I was still feeling intense sadness. He told me that he remembers making a decision to never make me feel bad for feeling how I did. He would consciously make an effort to allow me to cry if I needed to, and to not get frustrated if I was having a bad day, and he wasn’t. I’ve read that some spouses feel resentment toward their spouse for having bad days (while they are having a good day), and “bringing them down”; Shane agreed with this, and even offered up a few times that he felt that way.

We also discussed opening up to your spouse. If you’re feeling something, there is a really good chance that they are feeling the same way too. The triggers, the grief, it’s all different for everyone, but who can you relate to better than the other person who is feeling the loss of your child as intensely as you are? Don’t keep it bottled up.

This is why I love my Husband. He is open with me about this stuff; the real stuff that sucks to talk about. He knows he can tell me anything, and that I will not be offended that he may have been angry at me one day when I had a bad day and he didn’t. It’s okay to have bad days– your child died, it’s fully expected. We both wanted our marriage to work after the death of Kenley; Living without one another was never an option. It’s been different, sure, but in a good way; our relationship is stronger. I can sit here and honestly say that I have NEVER once felt like a divorce was even an option for us and Shane agrees with this 100%.

 

• Just because we are expecting again does not mean this baby will replace the child we lost.

I’ve read a lot (A LOOOOOT) online about rainbow babies. I’ve read that they can bring you intense joy; joy you never expected to feel again. I’ve read that loss moms can experience a wave of emotions when they finally hold their rainbow baby. Emotions that they’ve been suppressing for months while carrying their rainbow. The raw grief comes out full force again. When my Daughter is born (even saying the word “when” is hard because I cannot guarantee she will come into this world alive) I fully expect to feel a million emotions. This pregnancy has not been “normal” and her birth will not be normal. Subsequently her life will be as normal as I can manage to make it (while I always live one foot in joy, and one foot in sorrow). She will know about her older sister, and I will always make it a point to not let Kenley’s death shadow the birth of her. But, I’m sure it will be extremely hard.

Kenley was planned. She was wanted, and we tired for a really long time to conceive her. For her to be ripped away from us, so close to her birth, is cruel in ways that I have no words to explain. This baby will not take that sadness away from us. I will still be sad, but will have a living baby to hold. I will still walk into the nursery and think of the child who never got to see it. I will dress this baby in Kenley’s clothes, all the while knowing that they are brand new hand-me-downs. Life is never easy; life after grief is even more messy.

 

• PTSD in relation to losing a child is very real.

There have been many times since losing Kenley where PTSD hits me hard. I know there are people out there who think this (and all mental health issues) are not real; that they don’t deserve to be talked about and we should be ashamed of them. Well, those people are assholes. Those people have never had a bad day in their life, so its inconceivable that others could possibly feel anything other than great. There have been nights where I lay in bed, reliving the worst day of my life while listening to Shane’s rhythmic breathing as he sleeps next to me. It doesn’t matter what I do, I can’t stop my brain from taking me back to that triage room, and hearing the words.

Yesterday in the shower I was rinsing my hair and it hit me like a ton of bricks. I saw myself in the hospital shower, having to be washed by my husband because I physically could not move my arms due to shock. PTSD has no mercy. It hits you whenever it damn well pleases. Shane chimed in on this subject as well. He told me that he’s noticed it’s a lot harder than he ever expected it to be when co-workers and friends talk about their newborns or grandchildren. He went on to say that you want to be included and don’t want people to feel awkward talking about these things in front of you, but at the same time it’s extremely hard to hear. I think he was truly surprised at how sad/anxious he felt when he experienced his first “trigger” out side of the normal ones (babies in the store, etc etc). It goes to show you that PTSD can affect anyone, anywhere, anytime.

I found this on Grief Speaks and I think it’s an important piece to add to this post just incase someone is wondering if they might have PTSD related to child loss:

What are the symptoms of PTSD?
PTSD can cause many symptoms. These symptoms can be grouped into three categories:
1. Re-experiencing symptoms:
  • Flashbacks (reliving the trauma over and over, including physical symptoms like a racing heart or sweating)
  • Bad dreams or nightmares
  • Frightening thoughts     

2.  Avoidance Symptoms:

  • Staying away from places, events, or objects that are reminders of the experience
  • Feeling emotionally numb
  • Feeling strong guilt, depression or worry
  • Losing interest in activities that were enjoyable in the past
  • Having trouble remembering the dangerous event        

Things that remind a person of the traumatic event can trigger avoidance symptoms. These symptoms may cause a person to change his or her personal routine. For example, after a bad car crash, a person who usually drives may want to avoid driving or even riding in a car.

3.  Hyperarousal symptoms:

  • Being easily startled
  • Feeling tense or “on edge”
  • Having difficulty sleeping, and/or having angry outbursts                                                                                                                                                                                                                        Hyperarousal symptoms are usually constant, instead of being triggered by things that remind one of the traumatic event. They can make the person feel stressed and angry. These symptoms may make it hard to do daily tasks, such as sleeping, eating or concentrating. It is natural to have some of these symptoms after any dangerous event. Sometimes people have very serious symptoms that go away after a few weeks. This is called acute stress disorder, or ASD. When the symptoms last for more than a few weeks and become an ongoing problem, they might by PTSD. Some with PTSD don’t show any symptoms for weeks or even months. 

 

• Some things are always going to be hard for us now.

Seeing babies, attending Holiday functions, or get togethers, or seeing children around/younger than Kenley’s age are just a few things that will always be hard for us. Like our Grief, I’m sure these things will change in intensity, and possibly become less triggering as time goes on. This, however, does not mean that I want to see your “baby bump” photos, or that I am ok with seeing your child who was born after my child died. There are few women who I am ok with seeing the above things, and they know who they are because I’ve told them.

I don’t mean to sound like an awful person, but it is what it is. I didn’t make the rules of grief, people. I know that there are some people who understand us not wanting to be around their children, and they respect that. I am so thankful for those people. Then, there are people who think it’s okay to send you a Holiday card with their newborn baby’s photo on the cover. THIS IS NOT OK. This has not happened to me, thank sweet baby Jesus, but it has happened (more than I can actually believe) to friends of mine who have lost their children. Getting a photo of your newborn child, on what should be our child’s first Christmas, is not something that should happen-ever.

Please tell me on what planet that is ok? Oh wait, you can’t because it’s not.

I’m pretty sure I won’t ever send out Christmas cards again due to the fact I think I jinxed my pregnancy with Kenley by including her name before she was born.

I know that grieving a child comes in all different shapes and forms. I know that everything I posted won’t necessarily apply to you, and your situation, but if even one person reads this and feels like they’re not alone, my job is done. That’s why I started this blog. I need people to know that they are not alone. There are so many women who came before me, and unfortunately, there will be so many who come after me.

You are not alone.

 

 

 

more randoms. 

• The painters come Tuesday and every time I think about them painting over Kenley’s wall color I want to throw up. 

• All these women protesting photos on IG make me wish I could have gone and showed up for equality. I just still cannot believe the outcome of this election. It, like the above, makes me want to throw up. 

• I love my husband so fucking much. He went to work at 5:30am, came home and went outside with Landon to let him ride his 4 wheeler, then took Landon to the grocery store and did ALL the shopping, and finally he ran me a bath this evening. He is so loving and thoughtful. He always tells me he would do anything for me, and I have never doubted him in my life, and I never will. 

• I’m becoming increasingly uncomfortable in my body; my organs are being shoved all over and it’s hard to get a deep breath and I’m starving (but have no room for food). 


• I really need to organize my house. Landon’s birthday party is coming up, and it’s like a disaster. This is because of my grief. For example: I started sweeping my floors yesterday. I did HALF of my living room floor and quit. The sweeper is still plugged in, in the living room sitting there. Can’t. Handle. It.  Grief is the absolute worst because it makes me feel unable to participate in life or be productive. 

• Shane finally agreed to go test drive new cars! We went to the Acura dealer first because, dream car! We drove a 2017 Acura MDX and I’m in love. Even though we can afford it, I feel like the smart thing is to wait until baby comes. Because well…last time fucked up everyone  pretty bad and I just don’t want to deal with the fear of buying a new car jinxing this pregnancy. Once again, grief is irrational. 

• I’ve been feeling sort of alone lately. Not physically alone, because I never am, but like…in my grief? It’s so isolating. I think you could put me in a room with other people who lost their children and I would still feel so alone. Every one grieves differently and I think that is why it’s so hard. I don’t know if that even makes sense. 

• I need to stay off CAR (carrying a rainbow) . MENTAL NOTE: DO. NOT. OPEN. THAT. FORUM. It’s just too much. I go there when I feel like I’m having a good day and every god damn time there is another intro by someone who had a baby when Kenley was born. Can’t handle that. 

• I received a beautiful gift basket from someone on TCF yesterday. It came out of the blue and really made me feel loved. The card spoke of Kenley and how much she is loved. I am so lucky to have friends I’ve never met loving her so hard. She’s super lucky. 

• My new fetal doppler came today. I spent about 20 minutes listening to her this afternoon. It no longer comforts me…I’m just waiting to stop hearing it at any minute. 

• I seriously keep worrying that my lovenox isn’t working. That somehow, something terrible is going to happen again. There is no way to tell if it’s truly working (rationally I know it is). 

• I keep looking at rainbow baby outfits for the hospital. I’ve found a few that I love, but, I don’t feel like I can buy them. I’m too scared. 


• I’m binge watching the office…again. Jim and Pam’s wedding episode was tonight. Cue all the tears- favorite episode ever. 

• I need a new planner to keep track of all the doctors appointments I’ve got coming up. The planner I want is at a store in the “sorta” ghetto and I don’t feel like going alone. 

And yeah. That’s about all I got.