grandparent’s day.

Jesus I can’t even write the title of the post without getting tears in my eyes! I don’t know why, but it breaks my heart.

Landon came home yesterday with a form for Grandparent’s Day happening November 22nd at his school. I knew about it through another little note sent home, but I guess just getting the form hit me hard. Kenley will never have the opportunity to go to Grandparent’s day. Ever. No matter what, it will not happen…because she died. I immediately  started crying when I was reading the form yesterday– I couldn’t help it.

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photo prompt.

As many of you know, I am doing the capture your grief challenge on my IG. Each day’s prompt gives you an outlet to speak about the real emotions related to losing your child. Today’s prompt was Beautiful Mysteries.

Um. Ouch. Mega mega ouch.

This prompt urged you to speak about the mysteries of your child. I chose to speak of where I would see Kenley now. What would she be? Who would she be? I found todays prompt extremely hard. I have a rough time with envisioning my dead baby as a real baby. I don’t know if it’s strictly because I don’t want to think about it because I know it can never happen. I don’t know if I don’t want to hurt my heart like that? When I opened my heart for this challenge today, I just found myself crying while writing it. I chose to use a photo of Kenley’s hair for todays photo. Her beautiful, auburn, strawberry hair makes my heart melt; it was the most beautiful color. The lock of hair we have from her is dark brown, though. I don’t remember it looking that way in real life, and I HATE that. I hate that I can’t clearly recall what her hair looked like. Sure, photos help, but she’s my daughter…why does my brain block it out?

Grief brain?

Is it my heart and soul protecting itself?

I’m not sure what it is, but I am sure one one thing…I would give anything to be able to see her one more time.

 

 

weekend.

This weekend was my little Sister’s Bachelorette “day” out. We went on a luncheon cruise (where everyone drank amazingly delicious smelling sangria) and listened to a DJ play some serious wedding tunes. It was really relaxing and enjoyable, even if I did feel like I wanted to yack once or twice. Thanks motion sickness! Afterward we went and got pedicures, and walked around an outdoor mall for a while.

All in all it was a pretty awesome day, and I’m really happy I was able to come home for the weekend and spend it with my sister (and the other bridesmaids).

When I got back to my Mom’s, I was beat. I guess being almost 31 (ugh. ugh ugh ugh.) will do that to you! Ha- just kidding. I know 31 isn’t “old” in the grand scheme of things life, but holy shit…I feel old now. After Kenley died, I immediately aged 10 years physically, and probably 50 years emotionally/mentally. I feel like I look old, I feel like I have no desire to do much of anything (hello depression, you nasty bitch) but I try to make myself look presentable (usually fail pretty well at this and end up in mascara and leggings). I have to force myself to enjoy things (also fail). I have tension headaches a lot these days, and I can feel the anxiety heavy in my chest. Sometimes, I will have an extra anxiety ridden day and I can literally feel it in my sternum. I have the need to crack my chest; until I make it happen, I have an excruciating pain where I can’t stand up straight and taking a deep breath is like knives in my chest.

Anyway, back to this weekend.

Landon has been sick for 50 years (read: 1.5 weeks-ish) and I just figured it was seasonal allergies, or a mild cold. He started to get pretty lethargic and stuff last week so I kept an eye on it and told myself if he wasn’t better soon that I would make an appointment. Saturday he complained of a headache all day, and over night he came into my bedroom screaming and hyperventilating saying that his head hurt so bad on the right side. I tried to calm him down, ended up giving him some Motrin and he laid with him until he fell back to sleep. In the morning he came into my room at 6am complaining again. I got up, and fed him breakfast and we watched Spongebob in the dark until about 7:30. He then started crying and freaking out about his head again.

I didn’t know what to do and honestly he was starting to scare me. I told my mom that I needed to take him to the ER so off we went. Long story short no strep, no ear infection, no anything. They gave me a script for Sudafed- a decongestant. I’m not sure how this will help his intense head pain?…but I’m no doctor. I’m going to keep a really close eye on it, and the second he complains again about his head we’re going to get a CT scan. I don’t really talk about it too much, but when Landon was 3 we had something similar happen to him. He ended up needing an Electroencephleogram (An electroencephalogram (EEG) is a test used to detect abnormalities related to electrical activity of the brain. This procedure tracks and records brain wave patterns. Small metal discs with thin wires (electrodes) are placed on the scalp, and then send signals to a computer to record the results.) because he was having super weird twitches and making random noises all the time. I was pretty sure that he had Tourettes or something.

Turns out he was ok, but has “extra electrodes (or neurons? I can’t remember) firing in his brain” and for people with this, 50% of them have a 50% chance of having a seizure at some point in their life time. So…technically not ok? But again…not a doctor here.  Also they mentioned that children with these extra whatever’s firing are often “gifted”. That’s about the only part that makes sense. If you know Landon at all, you will probably more than likely agree the kid is super fuckin smart.

Ask him anything about Dinosaurs, I dare you.

We got back to my Mom’s, packed our stuff up and went to visit my Dad for a little while. As we were leaving my Dad’s, Shane text me and said he just got breaking news on his phone that there was a shooting on I-71 near the Polaris area.  The Highway Patrol had shut down both north and southbound lanes of the highway, so I figured I would be stuck in traffic. Well,  when I got to the I-71 on ramp in Mansfield, it was a shit show. The traffic lights were all out, there were no cops there to direct traffic because they were all at the crash scene of the shooter literally 2 miles up the road. Landon and I got some lunch, and hung out in the car for a little while to watch the traffic nightmare.

I googled and found out that the shooter had shot a man 6 times from a park bench (wtf is wrong with people?) as he was walking back to this car from the restroom at the rest stop. He then hopped in his car, and drove north. The cops found his vehicle on 71 and chased him north of the Mansfield exit where he ran over spike strips and hit the guardrail. He then shot and killed himself in his car.

I was watching the highway as we ate lunch, and I saw the cars that are pictured in the news article I linked to speeding down the highway toward the crash sight. It’s insane to me how close I was to actually witnessing this high speed chase. Thank god I didn’t. Once I got on 71 South, there was no issue and we made it home pretty quickly (1.5 hrs).

So now I’m home and curled up in bed with Shane. What a long weekend!

Here’s hoping that Landon feels better, I feel better and Shane doesn’t catch what we have.

Also, I’m participating in the “capture your grief” photo challenge for the month of October which is Pregnancy and Infant Loss awareness month. If you don’t know what it is,  head on over to my Instagram page (see the side of my blog for the link) and check it out. It’s amazing, and I know that it is such an important thing for myself to do. It helps me to honor my sweet girl, and keep her memory alive.

You can also see a new photo of my beautiful Kenley. I am so in love with her face.

 

 

38+4

Today is another rough day.

Today, the amount of time that has passed since you died, is the amount of time you were alive.

Tomorrow you will be gone longer than you were with us.

I don’t think there are words to describe the way that I’m feeling.

The only thing that I feel like doing or saying is screaming from the top of my lungs that I love you.  That I am your Mother. That you are my Daughter. That you were taken away from our family. That I will always ache for your presence in my life. And that I will never be whole again.

 

nothing.

Today has been a rough day. I don’t know why these days seem to come so randomly; when they come, they come on like a hurricane. Yesterday I slept until noon. I haven’t done this since I was probably 16 years old. I didn’t want to get out of bed, and thank god Shane just let me sleep. This morning, the same thing, I didn’t wake up until 10:30. I know it’s normal to feel tired right now; I was SO tired when pregnant with Kenley. I just really think that it’s something else. I think that it’s my desire to be alone and stay in bed so I don’t have to deal with the day for any longer than I have to, honestly.

I know that I am depressed. I know that I take medicine, and it helps. I know that some days are always going to be harder than the others, but fuck. Today just sucked so much life out of me that I want to go to bed right now…at 8:49pm. Today was one of those days that drug on, and on. Shane left for work at 1, so it was just Landon and I all day. Usually, I can handle him and we figure out things to occupy us throughout the day. Today…he was wild. So full of energy and just wound up so tight. I know it’s because we haven’t been able to get out of the house as it’s been hotter than the surface of the sun outside. My dad stopped by after visiting the drag strip near our house today. That broke up the day a little bit, but Landon gets so crazy around him.

After he left, we made dinner and watched some TV together. To my surprise he cuddled with me. After a while he got up and went to his bedroom; he came back with the stuffed bear I was given when I left the hospital. He climbed back up on the couch and handed it to me. That was it. Nothing else was said, and we kept watching tv.

I’m not sure if he knew I was feeling rough, or if he was missing her too.


I saw a link today to a book called “The Story Of”  and I just lost it. It’s a book that can be personalized with your child’s name and loss information to tell the story about why they are no longer here. I went on the website and just browsed through the pictures that are available for your “child” to be drawn as. Ugh. Just so many UGHS. I don’t want to buy a book to fucking talk about how my child died, and why she’s not here– Yet, I want it so badly. I want to have it, just another thing to put into a chest that will sit at the end of my bed and hold all of her things. Things like her quilt that my Mamaw made specifically for Kenley after I showed her a few pictures. She took so much time picking out the fabric, and creating this special thing for her great grand daughter; her great grand daughter who will never ever get to use that quilt. Or, the crocheted blanket that my Mom made for her, with a rainbow border…because she was supposed to be my rainbow baby.

Those things will sit in the chest along with her memory box with her foot prints on the top, her lock of beautiful auburn hair, her bracelets from the hospital, the outfits that we took photos of her in at the hospital, and her baby book. The baby book I filled in while sitting in her Nursery, feeling her move inside of me.

I miss my beautiful baby girl so much.

I’m so sorry I couldn’t save you, Kenley. I am so sorry.

blah.

I feel very blah today. I don’t really know how to describe it other than that. I’m tired, I’ve been randomly nauseous all day, and I have a wicked headache.

I know these things are normal, but I can’t help but think about my previous pregnancy. I took a medicine for nausea with K that I didn’t take with Landon–could that have contributed to her death?  I definitely don’t want to take that medicine this time around, but if my nausea gets as bad as it was, how will I function?

I think of how tired I was with Kenley. I remember how amazing Shane was about letting me nap whenever I needed to. Now, I can’t help but think, “Well, you’re going to have all the time in the fucking world to nap while Landon is in Kindergarten, and you are all alone without your daughter”. I know it’s irrational to think like that, I do, but I can’t help but have those thoughts.

The same irrational thoughts go along with this current pregnancy, and getting congratulations about it. I don’t want congrats. In my mind I’m getting these congrats on being pregnant because a series of really fucking shitty events happened in my life that led me here. My daughter who I tried so hard for, died, without warning and stole the light from my soul. I went through (and am currently/will always be going through) the worst time of my life. I went through IVF, and paid completely out of pocket (how much is IVF, you ask? We’re looking at a cool $23,000 after this cycle is said and done). And countless invasive procedures to get where I am. Yes, I am pregnant. I am so thankful for this pregnancy, and I will love this child (if I get to keep her) with all of my heart.

It’s just hard. I think that people heard we’re pregnant again and immediately think “ok they’re done grieving”. Nope. Not anywhere near what the truth is. I am not ok with being around your baby. I do not want to see your baby bump or talk about your pregnancy. I am not okay with being around large groups of people yet. The pain of these things, is not gone just because I am pregnant. I don’t know how to explain this to people yet, or how I can make them understand this. I know that some people will never understand it; they will always think that I should “be ok” by now.

I know that people are going to expect one thing from me during this pregnancy and I’ll probably be over here doing the complete opposite, but I hope that they try to understand. If I don’t want to come to the christmas get together this year, I hope you understand. If I don’t want to buy a million gifts, and celebrate this year, I truly hope that you get it. If, on thanksgiving, I would rather be with my family at my house, alone, I hope you understand why I need that. This year of first’s is going to be the hardest, and I need people to just fucking understand it.

I think we need to take a vacation for Christmas this year. Santa can find Landon anywhere, so why not, right?

 

weird.

This weekend has been weird. Friday, I had my repeat betas and they were great; doubling within 44 hours. I have my third beta on Monday morning and when we get those results back we will scheduled our first ultrasound.

Ugh. First ultrasound; It brings tears to my eyes and a lump to my throat. The last time I had an ultrasound with a baby in my ute, she was dead. No heartbeat, no movement, no life. To go to another ultrasound and possibly hear a heartbeat is so, so, so intimidating. It’s absolutely frightening. I want to be excited, please don’t get me wrong. It’s just causing me anxiety, and I feel zero joy right now.

I want to feel excited for this baby; for Landon and Kenley’s little sister growing inside of me. I am just having a really hard time right now. I figured I would take a test, see 2 lines, and cry. Nope, didn’t do that. I figured when I got my first beta back I would feel so great that the number was “this high” or “perfect“, but I didn’t. When the repeat beta came back more than doubled, I figured that I would feel some reassurance…But, you guessed it, I didn’t feel any. I literally just feel empty, which is so ironic because for the first time in 7 months, I’m not alone anymore…even when I am.

I’m guarded.

I don’t want to be.

I honestly don’t know if I will ever be ok during this pregnancy. If this baby is my “Rainbow baby” (side note: this word cuts through my heart like a knife. Kenley was my rainbow. She is supposed to be here, and be my fucking rainbow) I will love her with the same love that I have for Landon and Kenley, I know that. It’s just so unfortunate that the joy of any future pregnancy is shadowed by the fear of loss.

It is unfair.

I don’t care how childish that sounds, it’s the fucking truth.

This is all so unfair.

I miss you, my sweet girl. I am trying to be strong, I swear it to you. I try every. single. day. Sometimes it’s just too much.

The days where it’s too much end with me crying in bed, asking your daddy to promise me, to swear to me that he will bury your urn with me when I die.

No one should ever have to utter those words to their husband in the dark through tears.

Life is so incredibly fucked up.

PIO.

I started my PIO (progesterone in oil) shots the other day, and for some reason they hurt really bad this time. After my egg retrieval my RE had me start the same shots “just incase” our embryos sucked and didn’t make it to day 5 for PGS (can you tell my  Dr has like, zero faith in my body? I don’t blame him, really) and they didn’t hurt at all! Shane was a pro then, maybe he’s just rusty. He says when he’s doing it this time there is resistance. Yeah…I know. I feel it.

I watched a few videos today of others giving themselves the shots, and I feel like I could do it but I figure we’ll give it one more shot with Shane doing it. I think tonight when he gets home, I will warm the oil by rolling it in my palms for a few minutes, and have him give me the shot while I’m laying down.

 ( * I ended up holding the vial of progesterone for a while to warm it up, which made the withdrawal so much easier. Once the syringe was filled I held it in my hand for another 5 mins and laid on my bed when Shane gave me the injection. Perfection! Didn’t even feel the shot at all *) 

For those who don’t know about PIO, it’s to support the uterine lining during the luteal phase of a FET (frozen egg transfer) or a fresh transfer.

The set up looks like this (not my photo):

needles

The one closest to the bottle is an 18g needle. It is used to draw up the medicine. The one on the right is a 22g-1.5 inch needle used to administer the injection. The shot is intramuscular.

And the shots go here:

shotsite

Um Ouch.  

If our embryo sticks, and we are indeed pregnant, we will continue this for 12 weeks. TWELVE. Every. single. night. I’m sorry – I know I should feel so pumped and excited, but it’s just not that simple anymore. I’ve lost my naivety toward the situation; I know too much.

 I know what can go wrong if your hormone levels are off, or if you start spotting. I know that you can have an ectopic pregnancy and lose a tube, or an ovary, or fucking die. I know that your cervix can “not do it’s job” and you can lose your baby at any time even when you think you’ve past the scary points. I know that, even a week before you’re scheduled to have a normal repeat C-section, you can hear the words that will shatter your world forever; “This is where her heart is, and unfortunetly there is no heartbeat”. I know that you can truly feel like you want to die for the foreseeable future because your child died inside of you when you were in the clear; your daughter died when she shouldn’t have.

Those things could happen to us again. Any of them could be a possibility and I hate that I even have to worry about it.  I know that we will be monitored so intensely, but my mind just goes back to “well, shouldn’t I have been monitored this well anyway? I am growing a human for fucks sake”. Sadly, that’s not the case. Monitoring for normal pregnancies is a joke. I had a shitty NINE MINUTE (yes, nine minutes…normal scans can range from 20 mins to an hour for some people) anatomy scan, an intake scan at a new OB that was probably 25-30 minutes long, and a scan at 36.5 weeks…and somehow, no one detected a possibly anomaly with Kenley’s cord. Maybe, just maybe, if a Biophysical Profile Ultrasound was done on me my daughter would be here. Maybe, if my doctors sent me to an MFM because of my history with Preeclampsia, they would have done one on me. I should have been sent to an MFM. I was failed by doctors. All of my doctors failed us during Kenley’s pregnancy.

There is a standard of care, and a general guideline to follow when sending your patient to an MFM…and I ticked many boxes, yet I wasn’t sent.

I will never forgive myself for not advocating harder for my Daughter.

The medical field needs to get their shit together. 26,000 stillbirths a year, and yet we just can’t figure it out?

Unacceptable.

Medicine failed my sweet girl, and it’s hard to believe that anything positive could happen for us now.

tribe. 

Since Kenley’s death I have truly realized who my true friends are. Totally clichè, right? Nope. It’s true. When she died, I received my first card from Megan Ricahrdson. I love this girl, to this day, and I haven’t talked to her in probably 10-11 years, yet somehow she was the first one to send us a card. 

We received flowers from my graduating class (thanks guys), and cards from people I grew up knowing, worked woth through the years, and some I just recently met. All these people were hurting along side us.  The outpouring of love was amazing. My best friend from high school’s mom sent us a sleeping angel garden statue just very recently and it’s so comforting to know people are still thinking of us…of my sweet girl. It doesn’t hurt us to talk about her, or receive cards, or letters about her. We love these things. They make us feel closer to Kenley. 

The greatest amount of love has come from my tribe. The women who have been there through it all with us. The women who, no matter what, get it. They understand if I can’t talk to them because I’m guarding my heart, or if I want to just talk about Kenley for hours on end. They will listen and reply to me until I am talked out.

Immediately after K died, numerous people offered to fly to me from all parts of the states. Just to be with me and let me grieve the loss of my daughter. 

 These women tell me to protect myself and remind me that I am a good person. They sent us the most amazing package after Kenley’s death. The amount of love and kindness that went into this gift was far beyond anything I could ever imagine. 

They have held me up, held my hand though tons of things, and continue to walk beside me through these terrible days. They don’t need to reach out to me every single day, yet they do. They don’t need to send me random “thinking of you” gifts, yet I’m always getting lovely things in the mail. Someone always lets me know they’re thinking of my sweet daughter. 

They could have all left my side after things got hard, but they haven’t. They tell me they miss Kenley, too. They tell me how much she is thought of, how much they love her. They treat my heart carefully and come to me with such care about certain things in their lives that they think will trigger me. 

And I’m so thankful for each and every one of them.

 If you are part of/have been a part of TCF, or the old place, I want to thank you from the bottom of my heart. 

CAL, CAR, 3T, LTL, PAIF, PAL…and my amazing Jan 16 BMB…

Your love and support has meant more to me than I could ever explain in a million lifetimes. 

I am so thankful to be part of a community of women who are the best on this planet. I truly believe I will have you as friends for the rest of my life. 

You are my Tribe, and I love you.