shipped.

Posted by Randi

Today has been a rough day. Shane asked me how I was feeling about “little miss”, and it sort of just opened flood gates. We ended up talking about her for a long time. We talked about Kenley, her nursery, the new baby, and a bunch of stuff. I told him I was thinking about going into her room today, but ultimately I decided that I didn’t want to/wasn’t ready. He asked me if I wanted to start putting things into her hope chest, and I just lost it. Cue all the tears, for the rest of the day.

No, I don’t want to put her stuff in the box. I WANT her to be here so she can use it. I want to never have known this level of pain, and heartache. I want to be naive about pregnancy, and never suffer 2 miscarriages, and a stillbirth. I want to not feel sad/guilty/depressed every second of every day even on my good days.

I know that nothing will ever bring Kenley back, and I know that I am doing a lot better with processing her death but quite frankly it just fucking sucks.

The whole thing sucks.

I want to be excited for this new baby; we worked our asses off to get her. I am happy and excited to be pregnant, but it is overshadowed. I am trying— I say this so much that I sound like a broken record. I’m having a hard time thinking about this new baby using the swing that was purchased for Kenley. I know that it probably seems like a trivial thing for some people, but those people probably don’t truly understand. The items that we purchased for Kenley were burned into our minds as “her things”.

We dreamed of bringing her home from the hospital, and laying her in the rock n’ play my friend bought for her.

We dreamed of bringing her home and dressing her in one of the adorable outfits we specially bought for her.

We envisioned laying her in her crib, the one that we spent so long researching.

I dreamed of her doing tummy time on her bright yellow chevron rug (that I spent way too much money on- but didn’t care because, anything for her, right?)

I never in a million years expected to not have her here with me. I never thought for one second that I would have a nursery full of brand new items, never to be used by the intended child. But, instead, I have to process my grief and allow a new baby to use these items. I know that sounds weird, even as I type it my rational brain is screaming out–but my loss mom brain…well…that part of my brain gets it. That part of my brain understands the true depths of my pain. That part of my brain will always be fucked up now.

So the way it stands is that one half of my brain is always going to be living in fear or something terrible happening, and a huge chunk of my heart is pretty much broken and dead.

I’ve spent the evening googling “what to do with a nursery after stillbirth”… I bet your evening was better…

As I was sobbing and reading through multiple websites, I received an email.

Our Molly Bear has shipped…with 2 day shipping.

The bear will be here before 38+4…

I know that Kenley was looking out for me, and wanted to make sure the bear got here before the day when she has been gone for longer than she was alive.

I love you baby girl. You give me the strength to wake up everyday. I wish I could be holding you, smelling your sweet baby smell right now.

honor.

Posted by Randi

Somedays I wake up and I don’t get regular clothes on (I must not tell lies). I smack on the yoga pants, a t-shirt and call it a day. Those days I don’t usually put on my Kenley necklace. Somedays it doesn’t even phase me, but some days it really bugs me. Some days I feel like if I don’t wear that necklace, I am not honoring my girl. It’s like I feel as if I’m “forgetting” her if I don’t wear it. I know that’s stupid, and I know that wearing my necklace here in my house isn’t making me any closer to Kenley. I can’t get any closer to her- I’m her mother. I am the one who loves her more than anything in this world.

Sometimes I feel like, as a loss mom, I look for ways to honor my daughter that are above and beyond. Like, somehow if I take my love for her above and beyond, she will be able to feel that extra love. I know it’s not true, I know that she knows I love her, and that I would do anything in my power to have her here if it was possible. It’s just another way that losing a child fucks your brain up. It sucks. It’s sad. It hurts. It’s depressing knowing that no matter what I do to honor my girl, it’s just not going to matter when it comes to saving her.

I couldn’t save her.

Maybe honoring her by wearing her necklace, taking care of her tree, making things for other loss moms, makes me feel closer to her. Maybe it makes me feel like I’m caring for her, even though she is not here. I’m not sure what it is exactly. I’m sure I’m not the only one who feels this way.

There are other things that I do now that I need to do every day because I feel like if I stop, it’s one more step away from my girl. Now that we have our hope chest I know that I should take small steps to start putting things in there. I have a shoe box of random things from our bedroom that are related to her, and it’s sitting on my dresser. I think the first step in this whole “hope chest” thing will be putting that shoe box in there.

I don’t know if you’re like me, but when I clean something up I always end up getting sucked into it and looking at it again. Usually tying to clean one thing quickly takes a full day and will get me so off track. I know the second I step into her room and start to unpack that diaper bag, I’m going to fall apart into a million pieces. I haven’t looked at her blanket from the hospital, or the hat. I haven’t re-read her 25% finished baby book that will never be 100% finished. There are so many things that I want to look at, but know that I am not strong enough for yet.

Next Tuesday is 38 weeks. Next Saturday is 38+4, the length of time I carried her. Sunday she will be gone longer than she was alive, and that’s a real gigantic mind fuck.

Maybe next week I will find the strength to go in her room. I don’t know. Maybe not.

Probably not.

dentist.

Posted by Randi

Today I had a cleaning at the Dentist. I knew that I would have to update my paperwork, and inevitably this means updating medication, and pregnancy information. They only had me fill out 5 update questions, and the last one was “pregnancy- yes or no”? So I checked yes, and handed it back to the front desk lady. She proceeded to read over my 5 questions, and when she hit the bottom one she looked up at me with pure excitement and exclaimed ” OH! CONGRATULATIONS! When are you due?!”.

It took everything (EVERY. THING.) I had inside of me to smile and tell her 4/5/17.

When I got back to the exam room, the hygienist went over my paper work…again…and she did the same thing. “SQUEEE!!! WHEN ARE YOU DUE! CONGRATS!”… Again, I answered and smiled.

giphy

She proceeded to talk to me and asked about my children, which I knew was coming obviously. I answered her, and told her about Kenley. I talked about Kenley like she deserves to be talked about. I spoke of her, and Landon, and the new baby.

My gums were super sore during the cleaning (thanks pregnancy hormones…), but it was finally over. She told me to sit tight and the Dentist would be in to talk to me. Well, during the 5 second wait, a new hygienist (who I hadn’t seen at all) came in and read my chart AGAIN.

I bet you can’t guess what happened.

Then she starts talking to me about a procedure that will cost like $500-1,000 and isn’t covered by insurance (assuming she was just making convo) and said I should totally have it done. And…that’s when I couldn’t take it anymore. She had squee’d FAR too much for me. So, I straight up told her ” I would love to have that done, but I just simply cannot afford it. We did IVF this summer and now I’m nearly $23,000 in debt. I just don’t have the money, but thanks for the offer”.

She gasped at the cost (YEP. ME TOO, LADY, EVERY TIME I PAY THE BILL) and told me how sorry she was that Kenley died and we had to do IVF etc etc.

Then it came time to schedule my next cleaning, in 6 months…

Right when this baby will be due.

I had to tell them I would call them to set it up, and I pretty much ran out of the office holding back tears.

I’m sorry hygienist lady, I cannot guarantee that I will be able to “bring that cute baby in for all of you to see!” because I can’t guarantee that she will fucking live.

IT HAPPENS. BABIES DIE.

So please for the love of god, just stop talking to me about it, and let me leave your office with my new toothbrush and sample toothpaste. PLEASE.

busy.

Posted by Randi

I am so freakin tired. I’m tired physically, mentally, and emotionally. I am so tired of pretty much everything.

This past weekend was my little Sister’s Bridal Shower. I had to go up to my hometown for it, and I just spent the entire weekend running around trying to get everything finished up. The shower went well, and I think she really enjoyed it so yay.

I never sleep well at my Mom’s house; I don’t know if it’s the bed, or the fact that it’s just not my house, or what. Needless to say I slept like a rock last night, and definitely didn’t want to get up this morning. I had to actually wake Landon up, which never happens.

This week is going to be a struggle for me. I just know it. I’m really hoping that Friday comes ASAP.

I don’t have any appointments this week to see little miss moving and grooving, but I do have my NT scan next Thursday. I’m sure it will be a decently long scan, so I’m excited to have it done.

I cannot believe we are already almost 11 weeks. On Wednesday, I will have 26-ish weeks left. On one hand it feels like such a short period of time, but on the other hand to a loss mom…

It’s 26 more weeks of waiting for the other shoe to drop. 26 more weeks of expecting to see blood every time you pee. 26 more weeks of dreading each doctors appointment because you just know something is going to be wrong. 26 more weeks of straight fear.

I could get my doppler out, but that means going in Kenley’s room (the Nursery? the new baby’s room? The girls’ room? I shouldn’t have to worry about this…). It means bringing myself back to the days of using it with her. Brings me back to the day before she died, with her beautiful strong heart beating away for me to record on my phone one last time. I will never forget that I sent it to Shane, and he replied something along the lines of “So strong! Can’t wait to meet our girl!”…

And the next day she died.

I will never understand. a24e4ee918c1ac347a4e8291df26f7c6

socks.

Posted by Randi

Landon spent this weekend with my family up north. He had such a great time, and went to a see wooden ships, to a few festivals and played with his cousins and my moms neighbors.

He was exhausted, needless to say.

When I got him back home and settled in, I started unpacking his bags. My mom text me and asked if I saw the gift that he got for the baby. I hadn’t found it yet so I went looking through the other bags for it. I found the brown bag the gift was in, and asked Landon what was inside. “A gift for my new baby sister! I wanted to get her a shirt too but grandma said we didn’t know what size she would be so we could buy her a shirt when she’s born” (read: grandma spent $12 on a pair of socks, so she definitely wasn’t going to spend another $12 on a shirt the baby would wear for a hot second – completely understandable).

So, I slowly opened the bag not sure what to expect.

It took every thing I had not to burst into tears. Landon’s staring at me, waiting for me to say something; I said I loved them and his baby sister was so lucky to have him as a big brother. He smiled and went back to playing toys.

I turned to Shane and started crying.

The first thing for the new baby.

The first baby item I’ve really looked at or held since Kenley died.

The tag on the socks says that this brand supports March of Dimes. When Kenley died, the girls on my board donated money to March of Dimes in honor of her. I feel like somehow this was a small sign from my girl. A sign that tells me that she is with us, no matter where we are at, and no matter what we are going through. She was there helping Landon choose these sweet rattle socks for his new sister. She knew it would be hard for me to see them, but she made a way to let me know it was ok.

I miss you, my sweet girl. I wish I could have seen your sweet feet in cute rattle socks. I am forever missing you.

unreal.

Posted by Randi

This whole year has felt unreal; I feel like I am just going through the motions of life in a fog. I know a lot of that is grief and I’m sure someday it will feel different, but for now it still feels this way. Around the 6 month mark I started to feel like the fog was lifting, but now at 8 months out, it feels as if it’s starting to get foggy again.

My brain is pretty much mush anymore, I can’t remember anything, and I know that I’m blocking a lot of stuff out. At the end of each day I feel as if I’ve just finished running a mental marathon. I can’t wait until the moment I get to go to sleep for the night because it’s the only time I feel at peace. It feels like a lot of people’s lives have gone back to their “before”, and that’s ok- I don’t expect people to dwell on my sadness. There are people who randomly let me know that they are thinking of Kenley. They will send us something, text me, email me, or just make a gesture in honor of our family.

Those people are amazing.

I do feel, however, that there are people in my life who think I should be better. Maybe they think that I have too many “bad” days. Maybe they think that I have a grim view of certain things still. But, to those people I ask “Can you really blame me?”…

A friend (you know who you are! xo) who lost her beautiful daughter, but can’t really talk about it openly, sent me this last night. I woke up to use the rest room in the middle of the night and I saw it in my email. I smiled, peed and went back to bed. This morning I was able to read it. It is written to a non-bereaved parent in general, but I think that it can apply to family members, or friends who have no children, also. It pretty much applies to everyone. Please take the time to read it. It is the truth of my life now.

Dear Non-bereaved Parent,

I know you care for me and am so glad you’re reading this. I know that you can’t fully comprehend, nor would you want to, what it means to be a bereaved parent. Honestly, I’m still finding out for myself. To live without my child is not something I ever wanted to learn and yet it’s what I have to.

I see that you want me to feel better. Let me assure you, you’re doing the best you can to soothe my pain, yet it is here and will be here… until it lessens. It won’t ever go away completely and this is ok. Can you be ok about it with me?

I hope you will have the courage to remember my child with me until we part. Please remember this: You may speak her name, you may remember her birthday or anniversary with me, whether that is by sending me a text message, card or flowers – it doesn’t matter, it’s the thought that counts.

Please do not fear my tears or my sadness, it means that I’m thinking of her or missing her. It’s not that I am permanently broken or sick, just broken-hearted and grieving. Please have the courage to sit with me and my pain, without needing to fix it.

At times I might say ‘I need some time to myself’ but more often, I do appreciate you being here, even without any words, keeping me company or doing something with me. Other times I might need distraction and I might even laugh and experience some joy and then feel guilty again and cry in the next moment. It’s ok, this is life and death: complex and paradoxical and not always to be understood.

You probably feel that I have changed. You might even hope and wait for me to return to the ‘old me’ again. I’m sorry but that won’t happen. I’m forever changed. Losing a child is like losing a limb. Even though the scars of the amputation will heal, it’s a permanent change and as much as it sucks, it is what is. I have to get used to it. Will you bear the chance to get to know me as your ‘new normal friend’?

I’ve chosen you as my friend because you have a big compassionate heart, yet I know it’s (almost) impossible to understand the unimaginable. Don’t say things like: “Wouldn’t it be time to move on?” or “At least you have…” I know you might say those kind of things in an attempt to support me. I know you’re well-meaning yet I’ve become sensitive and certain sentences are like shards of glass on an already wounded heart. Even if you don’t understand, would you allow your heart to reach out and trust the sensitivity of my broken heart? (For examples on what to say instead, click here.)

I might not be up to celebrating pregnancy news, I might even feel jealous of those lucky mothers who are joyously carrying their children. It’s not that I’m mean, it’s because my heart longs for my child and seeing those mothers with their children is a reminder of what I don’t have.

With time and healing, I will be sad less often or cry less often as at the beginning. This does not mean I’m ‘over it’. My child lives on in my heart and I will never get over the fact that I’m never to hold her hand in life. Please do not confuse my healing with ‘been there, done that’. My child might have gone with the wind, yet I’m still searching the world for signs of its fleeting presence.

Thank you for being here for me and with me.

Thank you for being my friend and having remained my friend through this.

Thank you for creating a new friendship with my ‘new normal’ self even though we wanted everything to remain as it was…

Thank you for remembering my child and therefore honoring me as her mother.

Every day that I wake up, I am sad. I know I have so much to be thankful for, and trust me, I am VERY thankful. I’m thankful for Landon, because I don’t know if I would have been able to pull through this without having to care for him. I’m thankful for Shane because he is my rock, and even though he is incredibly sad as well, he keeps a strong face for me. He is the only one who feels my grief 24/7, and also deals with his own, too. I’m thankful for this new baby girl growing inside of my body. I’m so thankful that we were able to even afford IVF with no insurance coverage. I’m thankful for my doctor who is amazing, and always lets me be neurotic, ask a zillion questions, and roots for us.

I’m thankful to be alive, but that doesn’t mean that somedays I wouldn’t rather not be if it meant I could see Kenley for even 5 seconds again. And I don’t think there are many people in the world who really understand that statement.

I’m trying. Every single day. I wake up, I repeat the cycle of the day, except it’s not how it used to be. I’m a broken Mom, and Wife now. I’m a broken Daughter, Sister, and Friend. My heart is broken, and it effects every part of my life.

And it always will.

rainbow.

Posted by Randi

trigger/pregnancy talk warning

Continue reading →

photos.

Posted by Randi

Earlier this morning Landon handed me a seashell, and said he got it for me. This seashell sits on my buffet next to his baby picture. I said thank you, and acted like I was super impressed for a few, then asked him to put it back on the buffet because I love it there. He walked over and set it down and said ” I’m going to put it next to my baby picture”.

I love his baby picture. I love Kenley’s baby picture too, but in a different way. I got to thinking about the photos we have of Kenley, and realized we don’t have a picture of just Shane holding her. There are photos from NILMDTS of me holding her with him over my shoulder etc, but none of just him holding her. This has been weighing so heavy on me this evening. I will never have a photo of him holding her. Somedays I’m able to look at these things and think “Ok, don’t be so hard on yourself because who the hell thinks of these things in the moment when you’re shocked because your child died”, but other times I think “God…how could I have forgotten to take that photo?!”.

I’ve been missing her really badly lately. Wanting to hold her more than anything in the world. Feeling extremely sad, and beat down about everything. She’s forever going to be baby; as Landon grows she will remain the same in my mind. I will never know what she would look like as a little toddler, or a 5 year old starting Kindergarten. I mean, in a way I do because she looked just like Landon. And honestly? That makes it harder on my heart sometimes. Landon is such perfection in my eyes, he is so beautiful and perfect that it gives my heart a painful jab when I see him being adorable. She will never be here.

The bad days are still here- still very much present. They aren’t as heavy, I guess? I don’t know how to explain it. Friday night was bad, though. I cried for probably 2 hours after I put Landon to bed, and I don’t even know what triggered it. I just got sad. This sucks. This is unfair. This is not how my life should be. This is not how I should be spending my days- very much alone. I should have my girl with me and I should be taking care of her while her big brother is at school.

Monday she will be gone for 8 months. Eight months. 243 days. I have been on this earth, without my beautiful daughter, for far too long. And the worst part?… I have to continue to be without her until the day I die.

A good friend had messaged me the other day asking if we were still planning to walk in Lydie’s Loop (www.lydiesloop.org) 5k that a loss mom is putting on here in my town for her daughter, Lydie. I was seriously considering going, and I had asked my parents, my sister, and Shane’s parents to go with us- all who said yes. But…the more that I thought about it, the more intimidated I became. I didn’t feel that I was ready to be around that stuff yet. I’m not ready to be around other loss moms right now. Online, it’s different. I can just leave or close my phone or whatever, whenever I need to.

She told me that she was still interested in it, and she wanted to register in honor of Kenley and our family. I cried. Her and her sister (and I’m not sure who else, if anyone) are planning to register in Kenley’s honor, and it just makes my heart burst with love. Knowing that someone is going to be there for the walk in honor of my sweet girl is so amazing. A huge thank you to Nicky and Jessica. It means the world to me, you will never know.

Today has been one of those days where I just want to lay in bed all day. I’m so thankful for my amazing Husband. He came home from another long day of work, at one of the most stressful jobs in the entire world, and let me nap. Then, he ordered pizza for dinner so I didn’t have to cook anything.

I love you Shane. I know you don’t read this, understandably, but I just love you more than I could ever put into words.

Thank you for being my rock.

Today, well, today can suck it.

MFM.

Posted by Randi

Today we had our dating ultrasound at the MFM office. I was so anxious, and nervous; I puked for the first time this morning, so I was going into the appointment with high hopes. When we arrived at the office, I was immediately impressed by how new it all looked. We walked in and the building was AMAZING. It was just finished in June of this year, and the whole decoration theme is that of Ohio State. Everything was just so clean and sparkly which somehow made me feel more confident in the Doctors. So lame, I know, but it’s true!

When we went back, we were put into an ultrasound room that was HUGE with a giant monitor. Once we started the scan, the tech (who was like, 23 years old MAX) was so sweet to us, and showed us everything. She told us exactly what we were looking at, and showed us the little flicker on the screen that was our girl’s heart beating away- 176 BPM. She looks like a gummy bear, and had arms and legs (although they are super tiny). The tech held the probe in one position long enough for us to see our girl dancing around. I pretty much lost it immediately. I was crying for most of the scan. It was so wonderful to see another baby with a heartbeat inside of me, growing like she should – but at the same time, it was so sad. We were given some great pictures, and told to wait for the Doctor to come in to discuss with us.

We waited for a long time, but it was totally worth it.

The Doctor came in, and I immediately fell in love with him. He answered all of our questions, and spent some serious time with us. He pulled records from Landon’s delivery and went over them with us. He informed us of all the tests he wanted to run, and that he would allow us to come back in 2 weeks for another scan. We have that scan set for 9/8. The new patient appointment is set for 9/22, at which I will meet with one of the Doctors to discuss our plan of action. At this appointment we will also have our NT scan (Nuchal Translucency Screening) as I will be 12 weeks. They also set us up for our 18 week detailed anatomy scan on 11/3. This made me extremely happy to hear- DETAILED. If you recall in one of my previous posts I discussed how our anatomy scan with Kenley was 9 minutes. I truly hope that I am at my anatomy scan with the MFM for an hour. I don’t care how long I have to be there, please just make sure my baby is ok.

Then, on 12/13 I will go in for a Fetal Echocardiogram. Can I tell you how fucking happy I am to be given all this monitoring? I mean… I’m just beyond thrilled. I know that my baby will be given THE BEST care that I can provide for her. It does hurt my heart to know that Kenley could have been given this care, and she wasn’t. That was pretty hard to deal with today, I won’t lie. I know that I did everything for Kenley that I could, but it just cuts like a knife to know that there was someone out there who could have been able to save her, maybe. I don’t know. It’s just sad.

So, bottom line is we LOVE the MFM team at Ohio State. I am throughly looking forward to going through a pregnancy with them. I know that they will take my concerns seriously, and do everything they can to bring this baby into the world screaming.

On another note, A GIANT THANK YOU to everyone who donated to the Molly Bear fundraiser. We exceeded our goal, and I have officially placed my order for my Kenley Bear!!! The bear should ship out to us within 4 weeks! This makes my heart so happy. They asked for a few specific design requests for the bear, so Shane and I thought about that for a while today. We decided to go with foxes (obviously) and her nursery colors- Coral, Yellow, and Teal. No matter what the Kenley Bear looks like, I will be so thankful for her. I’m so excited. I’m also pretty sure that when it comes I will cry pretty hard.

All in all…today was a pretty good day.

fundraiser.

Posted by Randi

Today, Kenley has been gone for 34 weeks. I don’t know how time keeps going without her here in my arms…

I don’t usually do things like this, but I feel like I need to.

I started a fundraiser from the Molly Bears website to raise $450- enough to cover the cost of 1 bear for my family, and 9 other bears for women who cannot afford to purchase one of their own.

Incase you don’t know what a Molly Bear is, it’s a stuffed teddy bear that is weighted to the exact weight of the child you lost. Our bear would be 7lbs 5oz, and give me the opportunity to feel Kenley in my arms again, so to speak.

Here is the link, and if you choose to donate please know that it is greatly appreciated- not only from my family, but from the 9 other families who will be able to feel the weight of their lost child in their arms again.

https://rally.org/mollybears/7OpApHXxys5/randihayes