36+2

I cannot believe that it’s so cold today. When Landon was born, it was the coldest winter on record; the hospital room was extremely cold. I remember my mom and sister driving down in a flat out blizzard. This upcoming week is supposed to be “unseasonably cold” per the weather man this morning. When I heard him say that this week will be cold, I almost cried. I’m not exactly sure why but I have a good idea.

Landon was born when it was freezing.

Kenley died when it was unseasonably warm; It was 70 degrees when I went to the hospital to have her.

All the days in the past week have been super warm, mid 60s, unseasonably warm…so for me to hear that it’s supposed to be cold made me feel like maybe this will happen after all. I don’t know, I guess this is how loss brain works. It finds all these fucked up things and tries to make heads or tails of it when in all actuality there is no rhyme or reason to ANYTHING.

Your brain makes things out to be a lot worse than they probably are. But, at the same time…I’ve been the statistic. What is to say that I won’t be the statistic again? Why shouldn’t my brain go to the darkest place? It’s really hard to keep positive.

We put the Halo Bassinest in our bedroom today. It takes up a lot of space, but I think I’m going to love it. Shane and I are both feeling so anxious about her arrival. We were talking today about how excited we are for Landon to meet her. Landon was SO excited for Kenley, and when I think about the pain that he felt not knowing what was happening, I just can’t even think about it because it makes me sick. I want him to see this baby and love her. I want to watch him hold her for the first time. He loves babies, and he will be such a great big brother to a living child, as he is the best one to his little sister who isn’t here.

Today is Friday. Landon and I usually have pizza for dinner, and hang out. This is the last Friday where it will just be us two. I love him so much, and he’s growing up so quickly that I feel like I want to keep him this age forever.

He is my favorite.

Five days.

5 days.

5.

 

36+1

We had our second to last NST this morning at 10:30. Before we left the house, I used my doppler to check her heart beat; I cannot be surprised in the worst way ever again in my life. She sounded great, and I was able to get it right away.

The nurse was able to find her heart beat immediately, too, so that made me feel really good. Her NST was going really well, when all of a sudden she got this really weird deceleration for 5-7 seconds. Shane and I both heard it and looked at each other. Her heart rate went from 140s down to 100 and stayed low. We were both like ummm what the hell is happening? After those few seconds, it went back to normal, and everything sounded perfect for the rest of the NST. I asked the nurse about it and she wasn’t concerned.

We then met with our MFM and I asked her about it. She said that they don’t get concerned unless it’s a deceleration over 15 seconds. She reassured me that everything looked amazing, and that she is consistently doing fantastic on the NSTs. We talked a little and I asked some questions. She also gave me her cell phone number which I thought was pretty sweet and amazing of her. She did tell me that if I went to L&D this weekend and ended up delivering, that she wouldn’t be the one to deliver me. I told her I would try to keep the crazy at bay this weekend to avoid L&D, because I really really want her to deliver Alden. It’s been a long freakin road, and we’re all ready. She said “I know you’re nervous, but I’m really excited for Wednesday- we finally get to meet her”. I am so thankful for her; she will never know how much her care has meant to me during this pregnancy.

Today is Shane’s Monday…so needless to say the next 5 days when he is at work will be incredibly difficult and taxing on me while I’m here alone. If you’ve been wanting to text me, or email me to catch up, this weekend is the time to do so! LOL Help keep me occupied! I’ve got a few things on a list that I would like to accomplish, so I’m hoping to work through those things.

Preparing for this c-section is bringing back so many memories about Kenley’s c-section. I need to pack my bag, and the baby’s bag…I remember doing this for K. We need to get the camera all charged up, and I remember doing this for Kenley…the only video I have on my camera of me carrying Kenley is right before we left for the hospital and she had already died. I can’t even stand thinking about that. I will never be able to watch that video, ever.

Just so many emotions and feelings are flooding into my brain these past few days. I’m trying to separate them, but it’s proving pretty difficult. I did manage to sit down and figure out that Kenley actually died 8 days before her scheduled c-section (here I was thinking it was 6 days before, which would be today). It wasn’t a “good” realization per se but I felt kind of glad that that day came and went and I was worried about today, when actually today is just another day.

Currently, Alden has the hiccups.

Six days left.

looking inside.

Sometimes when it’s dark out, and were driving down the road I will look inside peoples houses if their curtains aren’t pulled shut. I know that I’m not the only person who does this, and so I know that there are people who have driven by my house and looked into the Nursery when it’s evening and the curtains have been open.

Those people are not aware of the pain and suffering that has been the last year of my life. They drive by, peer in and see a little girls nursery. They could have even driven by multiple times and seen a guest room, Kenley’s nursery, and then now Aldens’s. Maybe they didn’t notice, or maybe they did. It’s such a harmless thing, just looking out the window of a moving car. It’s just amazing what you will never know from just looking inside someone’s window while driving by.  It’s such a weird thing to think about, but it’s been on my mind a lot lately. Maybe it’s because I fully expect many people to discuss my pregnancies when we’re in the hospital, or maybe it’s because losing a child makes you wonder who else has gone through it?

Maybe it’s because I feel like everyone should just know about Kenley. I wrote about this in the very first blog post I ever wrote. I feel like once you’re a loss parent, you are marked and everyone should just see your pain, no matter how long it’s been, and no matter how your child died.

Shane and I were talking at breakfast the other morning and we were discussing how naive we were when we had Landon. Shane said he remembers how proud he was to take Landon out to meals and have people tell us how adorable he was. We talked about how we never in a million years would have ever thought that we were hurting anyone buy taking our child to breakfast with us in public; now however I’m constantly wondering who is suffering.  I know that there will always be someone in pain, and that we will never be able to know for sure who it is, but I will always be more aware now.

Today is March 1st.

I can’t even with all the weird feelings I’m having, but let me try…

I feel excited because yeah, theoretically, I should be having a baby soon (I’m not counting my chickens before they hatch though…).

I feel sad because I should have Kenley in my arms, as a beautiful funny 14 month old baby- instead, I’m super pregnant, again.

I feel nervous because I’m pretty sure I’ve forgotten everything I know about taking care of a baby. I had postpartum depression with Landon pretty badly, and I’m scared that it will be that again on top of grieving for Kenley.

I feel extreme love when I think about watching Landon hold Alden. I cannot wait for that moment; I have been waiting for far too long to witness it.

And, on top of all of that, I feel guilt. Guilt that I’m being monitored so well by my doctor and that Kenley didn’t even get a chance to be monitored like this. Guilt for being so excited for Alden to come. So much guilt over pretty much everything. It’s just so difficult to explain to anyone who hasn’t lost a child what the guilt is like and how I feel it vs pure excitement.

Tomorrow we have a NST, and my doctor is going to check the blood flow in her cord for us.  At Monday’s appointment I think that I scared my doctor. I have been cool and calm so far but not on Monday. I think she finally really understood how intense this has been for me. I let my guard down and cried and cried and cried. I begged her to take Alden at 36 weeks, or that day. Just take her while I know that she is alive and well. Kenley died 6 days before her scheduled c-section date, and I cannot go through losing a child this close to the end again.

She offered me daily NST’s, and to see me personally at everyone. I don’t think that I can bring myself to go up there every single day and not feel absolutely insane. The NST’s themselves give me super PTSD. They are how we found out that Kenley had died, so they just don’t do much to calm me down. I emailed my doctor last night, and she wrote back within 4 minutes- I appreciate that more than she will ever know.

I’m trying. 14 days left. 2 weeks. I can do this.

rational brain=non existent

I’m pretty sure that the last two weeks of this pregnancy are going to just drive me absolutely up the wall crazy. Since last Wednesday when I posted last, I have gone off the deep end it feels.

Thursday we had our NST, and it was CAKE…like nothing has ever gone so smooth in my life kind of cake. We walked in, I peed in a cup- all was good, I lost two lbs, blood pressure was like ridiculously perfect, and Alden was kicking the NST’s ass. We were in and out within what felt like 30 minutes. After, we went to Panera bread and enjoyed a nice relaxing lunch. I love Thursdays with Shane because we always get lunch together and it’s just so relaxing to be with him.

So, fast forward to Friday. Landon is in school, and my mom came to visit for the weekend. Everything is going well, but just somewhere in the back of my mind I feel super uneasy. I think the closer it is getting to d-day, the worse I’m feeling. Saturday I convinced myself that she wasn’t moving “right”, or that her pattern was different. Of course this caused me to spiral and push on her a bunch to see if she would move (which she did). I would get so close to saying I had to go into L&D, then she would move enough for me to feel confident in her being alive.

Saturday night however was a different story. She didn’t move while I laid in bed with Shane watching tv. She didn’t move when I rolled on my back, or my other side. In the tiny little rational part of my brain I have left I’m thinking, ok…she is sleeping so much right now, everything is fine. It’s constantly overshadowed by the giant irrational (read: totally legit) part of my brain that says  OMG. IT’S BEEN FOREVER SINCE YOU FELT HER MOVE. GET UP. GO TO LABOR AND DELIVERY. GO NOW. WHO CARES IF YOU CAN HEAR HER HEART BEAT ON YOUR DOPPLER. THAT’S NOT GOOD ENOUGH.

Saturday night I slept like SHIT. I was up 4 times to pee, and one of those times I was woken up by a contraction that hurt like hell.

Oh and at 4:45 am that “legit” part of my brain made me use my doppler to hear her heart beat.

FOUR. FOURTY. FIVE. AM.

Tomorrow it will be 16 days until she’s here. Kenley died a week before her scheduled c-section date. I cannot stop thinking about how were coming up on that date. Sure, this is a different pregnancy, and things are different this time yada yada yada, but honestly? Things are so much worse this time. Before, I was excited. I wanted to let her cook in there as long as she could! I asked for a c-section at 38 weeks and was told no. If my doctors would have agreed, she would be here. They had no reason to not agree.

This time, my MFM is willing to take her at 37 weeks, and I’m pretty sure I’m going to beg her to take her at 36, or 36.3 I don’t know, just something. She needs to come out while I know she’s alive. I didn’t know that Kenley wasn’t alive. It was so unfair, and cruel. I want to be able to say that this isn’t driving me insane, or that I’m handling it super well, but the truth is I’m not.

My anxiety is overwhelming. My fear of losing this child has become to much. I am excited for Alden to come…but what if she doesn’t get to come home with us? What would I do? People are taking time off of work for her arrival- just like with Kenley- and what happens if she doesn’t survive. It’s all too much.

Tomorrow we have an NST followed by a Growth Ultrasound and an appointment with my MFM. She is so reassuring, so I know she will calm me down, but I really really hope that she considers my mental health when I ask her if we can go any earlier.

I’m sure she’ll say no and try to talk me down…but I feel like my concerns are valid and my opinion matters.

Having a baby should not be this god damn hard.

NSTptsd.

Yep. It’s a real thing, at least it should be a real word anyway.

Yesterday at our first NST of the week, Alden decided she would be a super jerk and not let the nurse find her heart beat right away. And, by right away, I mean it took THREE WHOLE MINUTES to find her heartbeat. Sure, 3 minutes doesn’t seem like a long time, but remember the standard NST testing hook up is how we found out Kenley died. That was the longest probably 10 minutes of my entire life…

So, I’m sitting there… the nurse says “ok lets have you roll toward me” (I do) still no heartbeat.

Lets have you roll on to your other side (I do) still, I hear nothing.

I’m feeling her move inside me, or so I think; I thought Kenley was moving, too, but I was horribly mistaken.

I say, “ok let me lay flat on my back for a second because sometimes when I do that she moves and brings herself pretty close to the surface and we get her heartbeat”.

I lay flat. NOTHING. 

I lost it; I cried and was shaking so much we had to turn the machine down because it was so loud. I’m sorry, but there is only so much you can handle! I had reached my limit about 20 seconds after we couldn’t find her heartbeat in the beginning so the nurse is lucky I held out as long as I did.

Finally, we got it. It was faint and sounded super distant. I don’t know what she was doing in there (besides stressing me the hell out) but she just kept her distance. We were finally able to get a good trace on her, and she passed with flying colors, as per usual.

After the nurse left to let my MFM read the strip, I lost it again. Shane could tell I wasn’t holding it together very well, and I could tell he was a little stressed out too. He swears he heard her faintly in the beginning, and that the Nurse was never worried…well, I sure as hell was (and I know he’s lying and was scared half to death too…) 

So the rest of the appointment I was scared. I wanted to just cry to my MFM and beg her to take Alden now. Please god just take her while we know she’s still alive. I know that she will be fine on the outside. What if my body kills her again between now and the time she’s supposed to come? Kenley died 7 days before her scheduled c-section date, so what am I supposed to do around that time with Alden? I’m pretty sure I’ll either be at an NST, in Labor and Delivery getting monitored, or I’ll be sitting here with my doppler on my stomach listening to her heartbeat all night.

I talked with my MFM, and told her I had been having some Braxton Hicks contractions, and that they pretty much happen every time I stand up. I sit down, and they eventually go away after a few seconds. I drink tons of water, so I know I’m not dehydrated. She told me that if they increased, or the pain intensified that I should head to L&D. She didn’t seem too worried about them, but I go for another NST on Thursday and so far today they have been happening again so I will mention it to her.

She told me that she had put her cell phone number in my chart so that if I end up at labor and delivery in the middle of the night they know to call her for delivery- That kind of freaked me out I won’t lie! We also discussed that I need to stop Lovenox 12 hours before I deliver because if I don’t, they won’t give me a spinal due to bleeding risks, and I’ll have to be put under. I would just lose my mind if I had to be asleep for her birth! Not cool!

I have been trying my hardest to not let my mind get the best of me, but the NST just pushed me over the edge. I don’t know how I’m going to get through the next 20-something days. I really don’t know.

On a happy, less neurotic, note- Alden now has a light fixture for her bedroom!

lydia-flushmount-chandelier-c

 

 

weekly randoms.

Yesterday we had an NST and Alden did wonderfully. She was SO active this time that I was seriously concerned something was wrong. The nurse always reassures me that there is no such thing as “too much activity” which I don’t know if I agree with. I mean I guess too much activity followed by immediate decreased fetal movement might be what I’m thinking is bad, but I don’t know. It’s just always something; too much movement, not enough movement, weird movement, different movement patterns. It’s all enough to drive you crazy, honestly.

After our test we went to get Lunch at a little cafe. We talked a little about how we are planning to set up people being at our house for the c-section date etc. It really really sent me into a PTSD spiral. A lot more than I expected to be honest. I just couldn’t help but think about December and how Landon had to stay with my Mother in Law for days. He was confused, and worried and thought everything was fine until he came to the hospital and everything changed. I literally can’t even think about it without getting dizzy and wanting to hyperventilate, so we decided to table that conversation until we are closer.

Shane’s been replacing all the doors in our house with new 2 panel doors.

This is the Nursery closet and bedroom door


 He got some handy tools for Christmas (not by coincidence) and he’s been busy with that for a few days now. It looks so much better. I hate that the people who built this house went so cheap on everything. It would save us a lot of work if things were done just a little nicer. Instead, we are planning on replacing all the doors, painting all the god awful trim work, remodeling both bathrooms, and that’s just inside. Oh and we had to repaint the entire house when we moved in because…just yikes. It’s amazing what a few days of work can do for your home. I can’t wait until spring so we can plant some flowers, and do some more work outside. Unfortunately, I think we’re going to have to paint our fence which I am NOT looking forward to.

We hung Alden’s mirror above her dresser the other day. It looks really awesome, and I’m pretty happy with out it turned out. 


We keep putting off working in the Nursery, and I know it’s just nerves keeping us from doing things in there (by doing things I mean going through her clothes, washing them, organizing her closet etc etc). I can vividly remember washing Kenley’s things, and folding them with such love one night. I am not there yet. I cannot do that again, and lose another baby. So, I guess in my mind I think if they’re just hanging in the closet, and Alden doesn’t come home then I’m one step ahead of where I was with K.

It’s going to be in the 60’s all week. It’s February. What is happening? It’s fine, I’m happy the weather will be nice, but it just makes me feel like I need to be outside, when I really need to be focusing on crap I have to do inside my house. You watch, when March 15th rolls around, it will be freezing and snowing.

I tried to get Landon to go see Aladdin with me today at the movies- sort of a Mother Son afternoon date- and he pretty much straight up told me that he’s too cool for me. He said that Aladdin was a girls movie (he’s never seen it), and that he didn’t care if we went to get milkshakes afterward or not, that he just didn’t want to go. I’m to the point now in my pregnancy where I’m really emotional, so it made me cry. I didn’t let him see that it made me cry, but it freakin hurt my feelings! FINE. We won’t go then. I don’t have the emotional strength to drag him out of the house and listen to him whine the entire time. I just am running low on the Fucks that I give. So instead, he would like to stay home, and play board games with me all day. Ok then. When he says things like that, it makes my heart ache for Kenley. I know that she would just love spending time with me, and he did too when he was her age. I guess he’s just out growing me.

I really wish that Shane and I could go on a vacation. I could use some relaxing time with just him. We are home during the week together on his days off, but it’s just not the same. We have so much that we have to do here that we never get a chance to just relax and enjoy each other. He is my calm, happy place and I’ve been feeling pretty rattled lately. Pretty sure the anxiety of what’s to come in the next 26ish days is really hitting home, possibly for both of us more than I realize.

I am so thankful for the loss moms that I’ve connected with. There are days where one of us will feel just awful, and will send out a text that we all can relate to. I’m so thankful for that fucked up connection we all have. I feel like I can go into our group chat and just say literally whatever I need to, and they will understand, and not judge me all in one. Just so thankful to have them in my corner.

Tomorrow I’m getting my hair done. I’m going to go super light, more white than honey blonde. Here’s to hoping that my well water doesn’t screw it all up. My sister, and my friend both suggested that I buy bottled water to wash my hair and I seriously think I’m going to do that. I have the right kind of shampoo and conditioner for blonde hair, so we’ll see if this makes a difference.

I need to hire a professional organizer. I have so much crap in my house that just needs to be thrown away, and then the house needs to be organized so well. Ugh. It’s got to be the nesting kicking in, but I want to just organize everything and it’s driving me nuts cus I can’t. My giant stomach is in the way of everything, and it’s frustrating because I get dizzy and winded. I’m not complaining about being pregnant, because honestly I love being pregnant, but damn! I sometimes forget that I gotta take it easy.

Off to do laundry.

 

30 days left.

We had an NST today, and Alden was once again an over achiever. They want to see 2 accelerations in 2o minutes- she had 10. I’m so thankful that she is proving to me she is healthy, and active but damn I can’t wait until she is earth side and in my arms. While we were sitting there listening to her heartbeat (which, by the way is computer generated and not the real noise… I feel like I’ve been lied to!) I looked over at Shane and told him that I cannot wait to see him holding Alden. He was sitting so close to me, keeping a hand on the monitor because he wanted to make sure we were getting a good reading (her heartbeat wasn’t showing up strong so the nurse suggested I keep a hand over top of the monitor).

I am so thankful for him. I know I say it a lot, but sometimes it just hits me really really hard how much I love him. He really can’t wait for her to be here, and I am so excited to watch him be a Father again. I wanted to watch him Father Kenley, but I get to see that done in different ways. I know that he is going to love this little girl so much. I just can’t wait. I can’t wait to see Landon interact with her, too. Ugh, my heart is exploding just thinking about it! I know she will bring so much joy to our lives, and I am genuinely looking forward to that, but I am still so scared of Kenley being forgotten.

Tomorrow is Valentine’s day. Last year on Valentine’s day I remember sitting on the edge of my bed, in my robe, crying- no sobbing more like it, and thinking about how this was supposed to be Kenley’s first real holiday. I had gotten a cute little onesie for her to wear as an xmas gift; It say’s “Daddy’s Sweetheart”. I was looking through the clothes in the closet the other night when I came across it. It sent chills down my spine. I wanted to rip it out of the closet and throw it in the trash, yet at the same time I couldn’t stand to look at it long enough to even remove it. I’m not too sure what will happen with that outfit…

Last year at this time- specifically Valentine’s day- I did not want to be alive. I remember thinking about how badly I wanted to be with Kenley. I would never actually kill myself, but I remember thinking how sad I was, how lonely I was. I was in the raw grief period, and that period is like no other. There is no way to prepare someone for the darkness that you feel in the early days after a loss. It’s indescribable. I knew I needed help, so I called up some therapists and scheduled an appointment with one. I am so proud of myself for doing that because honestly? I could have literally laid down in bed and refused to get up again because that’s how awful I felt. I STILL feel that way sometimes.

I (we) saw a therapist until August, when all of a sudden one day it just didn’t feel right to go anymore. Shane and I agreed that we felt like we were just wasting money by seeing the therapist, not that she wasn’t a great one, but just that we were at the point in our grief where we could lean on each other. Before, it felt like I needed someone to hear everything I had to say, all the time, and I would sometimes lay it on thick to Shane (who was also grieving but wanting to make things easier on me so he would just listen to me cry for hours when that wasn’t fair to him). I can honestly say that I feel 100% not seeing a therapist anymore. There are days where I feel the darkness heavy inside of me, but I can battle that now. I know when it comes that it will pass, and I know why it’s coming- be it a trigger, or just a bad day.

Losing Kenley was a terrible, terrible thing. I think I can confidently say that losing a child is one of the worst- if not THE worst- things in the world. People think that just because you didn’t “spend time” with the child you lost, that you should heal quicker and move on; just the notion of that makes zero sense to me. Where in these people’s minds do they think it’s okay to expect, well, anything from a Mother who lost a child?

I text with a group of loss moms (Hi! I love you all!) and we were discussing God + losses today. We’re a pretty open minded bunch, and a few are religious (while a few aren’t) so this  next stuff isn’t some anti-christ opinion here. Anyway, we were discussing the things that people say to you after a loss, specifically when someone tells you that “it’s God’s plan”.

First off, no. Just no.  Yikes. Like…do you not realize what that sounds like? It sounds like you are telling a person who’s CHILD JUST DIED that God intended that to happen? Like he specifically chose that person and said ok, that baby won’t live. Just does not make sense. Also, there was another comment and it was greeted with a reply from one of the women who said “Ask that woman which one of her children she would like to give back” and that makes so much sense. People say things, such as “God needed another angel(this saying makes me cringe deep into my soul) with intention of making you feel better, when really it’s just making THEM feel better (fuck if I know how it makes ANYONE feel better???). When you say God needed another angel, you’re telling that person “God” wanted your baby more than you deserved it. So, because he’s “God” he should just get what he wants. What about what you want? The chance to raise your baby (in a faith that serves him NONETHELESS!!!). 

Bottom line, don’t say dumb shit. Like, before you open your mouth, take FIVE seconds, and really, really think about if what you’re going to say is REALLY going to make this person (not yourself) feel any better.

Chances are, the answer is no because there is no comforting a child loss mother.

There just isn’t. 

This post really went all over the place.

l&d

Last night before bed my back started to hurt, and I felt like I couldn’t take a deep breath. It’s not unusual for me to not be able to take a deep breath cus, well, all of my space is taken up. Breathing is not a fun activity these days. I went to bed with some back pain but didn’t think anything about it. I also felt really tired, but again, that’s normal these days. When I woke up this morning, my back still hurt; I couldn’t bend over without being in pain. Shane helped me by getting Landon ready for school this morning. When he was off to school, I went back to bed. I ended up sleeping until 11:30.

When I woke up, I was waiting to feel Alden move and I didn’t feel it. I kept waiting, and waiting…But I didn’t feel anything. I turned from side to side while laying in bed, expecting her to kick me hard like she usually does but nada.
I drank a sprite. Nothing.

I ate some food. Nothing.

I took a shower. Nope.

I ate some candy. Nothing.

I had her HB on my doppler which didn’t really calm me down, and she had the hiccups twice which also didn’t do much for my anxiety.

So, we decided that it was best for us to go to Labor and Delivery. I really really really didn’t want to go, but, I know that it’s better to be safe than sorry or whatever. I knew the PTSD was going to be full blown today, and I just really didn’t want to feel all that. We got there, and went back to a triage room.

They told me to give a urine sample and leave it in the bathroom …PTSD SOOOOOO much PTSD. I remember walking into L&D with Kenley, and giving a sample, and just feeling so naive to anything being wrong. Like, I think I made a joke about how bad I had to pee. But, it was like the clearest memory of the entire night when we found out she died. I left my sample in the bathroom that was in my personal room, and climbed into the bed. The nurse came in, talked to us about why we were there, and hooked us up to the monitor. We found her HB right away, thank god, but she wasn’t moving. Her heart rate was up in the 160’s and the OB resident wanted to see it a little lower so we kept monitoring her for about an hour.

The OB resident was so freaking sweet. She came in and discussed my history with us. She brought up Landon’s birth, and asked how we lost our second child. She offered her condolences about Kenley and she let me talk about her for a few minutes. It always feel good when someone cares about our story. She told us that Alden was showing good signs of accelerations, but she wasn’t moving as much as she liked so we were going to keep watching her for a while longer. After about 30 more minutes she came back in and told us that she was going to get the ultrasound machine (cue super PTSD- This is where I saw my sweet Kenley, lifeless, on screen. A mobile ultrasound machine is what confirmed my worst fears) and was going to make sure that they could see physical movement on the screen. I started to cry. She told me that she wanted to do everything possible to make me feel comfortable because of our history. I felt like she actually cared, and I jokingly told her to let me stay there for the next 5 weeks.

Once she brought the machine in, we were able to see Alden moving and squirming around. I don’t know if she had just changed positions again, and I’m just not able to feel them as much or what, but ugh. She showed us Alden’s stomach and told us that it was “black and fluttering” which meant that she was practicing breathing (a good thing), and that if she was in any kind of distress that this would be the first thing that would stop. Because she was breathing, having lots of movements, and her heart rate had dropped back down into the 130/140s, they said they felt comfortable sending us home. The resident said that there was no reason why she felt that our baby was in distress, and that we should feel confident in her health.

I cried a few more times, and thanked her for taking so much time with us to show us all these things even though we just had an NST yesterday.

Pregnancy after loss is a mind fuck.

Pregnancy after a full term stillborn child is a whole different kind of evil.

 

 

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. 

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.