"at least God has given you another baby"

This is supposed to be helpful? Coming from my counselor?

She said this within the first five minutes of my appointment, and it just set the tone. Trying to explain, she said that I shouldn't think about what I don't have and just concentrate on the future. I shouldn't worry or be sad because that's not good for me or this baby.

Also, I should come up with a plan for how to deal with feelings that come up during labor and delivery. Her suggestion was just not think about my miscarriages and first two babies.

Apparently, I grow defensive when I think that no one understands what I've been through. They don't have bad intentions.

Well, people don't know how I feel unless they've been here themselves. Pregnancy after loss. Sometimes intentions are more easily passed over than others. If someone were to use a racial slur, but claim no ill intentions, is it still okay? You cannot tell another that they don't feel offended. I am allowed my feelings.

Yes, I've thought about flashbacks during labor and delivery, especially given the traumatic incident with my first miscarriage. I can't tell you how I'll react...I can't tell you if I want an epidural or not! My plan is awareness. All I can do, and with Paul's support, is to recognize feelings and thoughts, recognize them as valid, feel what I need to feel, take a deep breath and come back to the present. Ignoring doesn't work for me.

I AM very thankful, grateful and humble that I am pregnant with another child. NO ONE gets to assume that I'm not. But those two little words...at least...red flags. Words that appear on every list of what not to say to a woman after a miscarriage. Drop those nasty words. "God has given you another baby". YES! That is true, and I am so excited. "I'm glad God has given you another baby." Thank you, me too.

One child will never replace another. Ever. Is it okay to tell a mother after one of two school-aged kids dies, "at least you still have one"? NO!

I don't live in state of perpetual sadness and crying anymore. That doesn't mean that words or memories won't trigger grief feelings. I expect that the intense feelings of loss won't always be so raw. They have changed even within the last year. But it's a process, and one event doesn't change that.

I am okay with where I am. Even happy and proud. I love ALL my babies, including this one who is doing barrel rolls at the minute and gives me far too many scares. I cannot wait to hold this baby, a fulfillment of hopes and dreams to have and raise children.

But I will not forget my first two babies. And like a good mama bear, I will fight for them and my memories of them. No one gets to take them from me or harm my memories.

damn grief

I think I'll always be surprised at how it catches me off-guard and takes my breath away.

And hormones don't make it any easier.

just hanging in there

This week has had lots of good things! These are the moments when my heart and mind are content, and the worry stays at bay. These are the moments I hold onto during the other times.

• A great date night at Garrison Keillor's (of the Prairie Home Companion radio show) Summer Love tour. Lawn seats were not only cheaper, they had the best views! He sang, told stories, and ambled around the audience for well over two hours. Even though it was a bit cool (we were in an outdoor ampitheater), windy and rainy, we left with smiling and singing.
• A relatively uneventful weekend. We passed the 14 week mark with no reasons to worry. I didn't do much other than hang out and grow a baby. :)
• Fun friends scrappin' and stamping' the night away. I love my monthly scrapbooking group at church! I was working on cards this month, but it still felt good to get my hands in that paper.
• An indulgent evening watching the Emmys. I like awards shows and the red carpet interviews. Paul doesn't. At all. That's why it's good that we have TVs in separate rooms some days.
• Days that are finally cooling off. I am much more comfortable in the crisp fall air than the sticky, heavy, hot air of summer. My favorite - wearing sweaters and my Birkenstocks at the same time.

Sunday night brought a bump in the week. My parents had spent the weekend here helping my brother move into his college house, and learned on their drive home that one of their cats was killed on the highway by there house. Paul and I had just gone to bed and were talking about how this day we were anticipating turned out to be just fine. Until my mom sent that text message.

I just don't know how to process sad news now. I can't separate it from my own feelings of loss. Mom's cats are the same age as mine, and they definitely aren't my pets, but I still know them well. And more than that, I know how mom loved her little Lita. Pets are members of our family, and they make their way into our hearts forever.

My heart just hurts a lot. For little Lita's brother and playmate who keeps looking for her. For my mom. For my babies. I can't even write that without the tears coming. Monday was a mental health day. I slept, recovered from the massive headache (stress headaches + pregnancy = wish I could take more than Tylenol), and snuggled my kitties. I also thought about how I need to protect my emotions, including asking that difficult news be shared with me in a certain way. I just have to be gentle with myself.

ultrasound update, sharing the news, and a limp

I am WAY behind with this update, and now there are lots of things on my mind...

I am now 12 weeks with this baby, and though statistic don't do much to ease my mind since I seem to defy many, I try to remind myself that in MOST cases, pregnancies progress very well after this point.

On Friday, August 6 we had another peek at our little one! We were back in for an ultrasound and had my favorite tech. I was so excited when she called us back because she will tell us what she sees. She doesn't interpret, but she gives us the facts.

Baby was measuring 11 weeks that day - three days ahead! I love to see that growth! The heart rate was great at 171. Baby was tumbling all over the place, and we saw lots of good dancing going on. Paul did his job well and asked for pictures. Even though we were feeling good after leaving the ultrasound, we still went upstairs to talk to the nurse just for extra peace of mind. And all is good. All is very good. I go back to my doctor next Monday at 13 weeks.

*****

I am at my parents' for a long weekend, and a lot of family is home. I only see my aunts and uncles once a year because they live in New York and Chicago, so it's fun to see these little cousins.

But I don't feel comfortable talking about this pregnancy. My mom caught me off guard by announcing with my aunt's family, "so did Karin tell you she's pregnant?" I HATE those surprises. I don't have the ability to go along with the flow quite so easily anymore. I need to be prepared. Everyone turned and looked at me, and said congratulations. That's great, but I don't like being the center of attention. I feel like we've already been through this before, and people will just wonder if this one is going to work. I wonder if we'll take home this baby. I don't need to assure others when I have a hard enough time assuring myself.

I told my mom later that I didn't appreciate an announcement to a group, and she thought it was fine because we're all family. It was still a big group to me. She said she'd tell my uncle's family before I came home. I don't know if she did. Or if she told them I don't want to talk about it. Maybe it's easier to pretend I'm not pregnant until I have a big belly.

Everything seems too complicated to simply be excited.

*****

Aaaaannnnnnnnd here's the current ridiculousness...I partially tore my Achilles tendon. While drinking lemonade. Sitting at a picnic table. My chiropractor thinks it started when I sprained my ankle last month (I managed to roll it twice in one day), and since then I've been walking to compensate, which has caused the muscles and tendons to shorten and tighten. It was ready to pop. And pop it did, followed by a shooting pain up my calf.

It's a good thing the chiropractor in my hometown is a family friend who was willing to see me at his office on a Saturday afternoon! He worked the muscles, and although I was in a tremendous amount of pain later, it has been much, much better. So I'm spending my vacation in a La-Z-boy with an ice pack on my elevated foot. Worst case scenario: he'll put me in a boot when I go back this afternoon.

Oh well. Hopefully it will match the dress I'm wearing to my brother-in-law's wedding on Friday. The second part of my vacation is in a lake/resort town later this week. I'll be a limping, pregnant bundle of fun! :)

a case of the mondays

I have a case of the Mondays today. I have a case of the Mondays every week.

My first miscarriage was on a Monday. I spent most of the day in the ER, and it was easily the worst day of my life. With my second miscarriage, we found out on Friday there was no heartbeat, and on Monday I had the D&C. I spent the morning waiting at home, hungry because I couldn't eat and thinking about what was to come. But the waiting area was the worst. Just sitting there waiting to become empty.

My babies left my body on Mondays.

The dates of the miscarriages don't get to me when they come around each month, and I really don't count the months. Instead, each week starts with difficulty because bed just feels like a nicer place to spend the day. Sunday nights hold sadness because Monday means re-entering the real world.

My doctor schedules OB appointments for Monday mornings and Friday afternoons. I can't help but think that just offers the possibility of more bad  Mondays. My next appointments is two weeks from today. Maybe I'll hear the baby's heartbeat for the first time. I will gladly take that on a Monday.

due date

So today is my due date for my second baby. It's so surreal. How has the time managed to go so quickly and slowly all at once? So much has happened since we learned we were pregnant back in September.

But it's okay. I'm actually doing okay. The anticipation of the due date for my first baby was much more intense. But I've been through it before, and I've survived. I mentioned it to Paul last night, and he said he didn't remember because it wasn't important anymore. Ouch. It's still important to me, but I understand that the best way he copes is to not dwell on what might have been.

People are waiting for me to announce a pregnancy...just yesterday, a coworker texted me and said, "You're pregnant! That's why you passed on the ceviche at lunch!" Nope. Just ran out of time to eat. I was actually quite disappointed I missed out on the ceviche. That exchange probably got to me more than living through today. It's the things that I don't prepare for (when it seems like I over-prepare for every situation I can imagine) that get to me, rather than the things I think will bother me.

I have so much love for my babies and Paul. And I have the capacity to love more babies, however and whenever they come to me.

A couple weeks ago, I wrote about how I was contemplating if I could choose to move forward and not live in the intense grief. I think I have; I just needed someone else to tell me that I could. I wish more than anything I was holding a baby right now. That I'd have the summer off to just be a mom. I will always long for my babies. I miss what I don't have and haven't experienced...yet...basically all the things that come with being further along in pregnancy. One day I'll be there.

"hope for the day"

I'm on the SilentGrief mailing email list, and these nuggets usually come on Mondays. Today's email was about "grief attacks." Boy, do I know these! In fact, I had one just last night. So many points here resonate with me. Hope is bigger than fear. I will make it through this; I have before, and so have others. I need to feel what I feel; ignoring it won't help. "The raw part of grief work.." Love it.

Hoping something here does good for your spirit, as well.

"HOPE FOR THE DAY" from SilentGrief.com

http://www.silentgrief.com/
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April 26, 2010

Grief seems to hit us like a tidal wave at times when we least expect it. We can be plodding along in life "okay" when all of a sudden we get smacked hard with the reality of our loss, and we're left feeling like we are drowning in a sea of sorrow with no life jacket in sight.

Being aware of how grief works is a critical part of our grief journey. Knowing that we can get these "grief attacks" unexpectedly can actually help us to prepare for them. When your tidal wave of grief hits, take some long, deep breaths, and prepare to wait it out. Don't fight it or try to swim against the tide. You will only exhaust yourself both physically and emotionally. Feel the pain with the knowledge that following this storm, the seas will once again return to calm, and you will have better days ahead.

The pain will begin to subside as you begin to acknowledge the fact that grief attacks are only momentary in nature. The raw part of grief work has already been done, and you will be able to manage your grief by thinking more calm thoughts, journaling your emotions, taking a walk among nature, and calling on a friend or two for some encouragement.

Did you get hit by a tidal wave today? Take courage in knowing that you're going to make it. Others have walked this path before you and they've made it and you will, too. Your hope is bigger than your fear. Your courage is stronger than your pain. And, your hope is always alive and at work! -- Clara Hinton

"I will face my pain with courage. I will make it!" --Clara Hinton

"For the Lord God is a sun and shield; The Lord gives grace and glory." --Psalm 84:11

For added encouragement, add Clara Hinton as your friend on Facebook.

Also, visit Clara Hinton at: http://www.clara-hinton.blogspot.com/

facing the firsts

Another question from Butterfly Mommies...
What were some of the 'firsts' that you encountered after your loss? How do you plan to, or how have you dealt with special anniversaries and holidays and the memory of your little one?

I'm facing a big first right now - the first anniversary of our first miscarriage next week. In many ways, this anniversary will conclude a year of a lot of firsts. I don't exactly want to celebrate the day because it's not a happy day. I don't really consider it a birthday because our baby wasn't born in a traditional sense. It's not a death date because we have no idea when our baby died. So we're simply acknowledging the day because it's the only date we to which we can tie anything concretely. That there is something different about the day. I just want to spend time with Paul doing something together that makes us happy. I'm planning to leave work early (at the time when he's off), and we want to go to dinner. A dinner out isn't a usual occurrence for us on a weeknight. And I want to buy myself flowers for my office - something I enjoy. I'm anticipating the day, but I'm looking forward to be past it.

About three weeks after my first miscarriage was Mother's Day. That was tough because I would have been 20 weeks then, and it was just a date I had marked on the calendar. A couple of milestones. I was definitely sad to not be pregnant. And no one acknowledged me on Mother's Day. And no one acknowledged Paul on Father's Day. We have decided to celebrate those days this year, even if it's just the two of us. We deserve that.

Another first was marking the due date that didn't come to be, but the anticipation was worse than the actual day. We had hopes for that day, but nothing happened on that day. I hope that I don't always track the due dates.

Christmas was the singe hardest holiday for me this year. Christmas is my favorite time of year, and I had so been looking forward to having a little baby with us this year. We didn't. And I was no longer pregnant with our second baby. I had a second miscarriage the first week of December. So much was hard about those days. So hard. They weren't happy days. But I survived them.

There were lots of other firsts...first Monday after each miscarriage (they both happened on Mondays)...the first day back at work...the first month...the first baby shower...the first time holding a baby. But some of those were bigger than me. The first baby I held was my baby niece, just minutes after she'd died. I would not trade those moments for anything. The first baby shower was celebrating friends who are expecting a baby in July after four unsuccessful pregnancies and IVFs. Of course we're celebrating their baby, and I look forward to snuggling him or her in a few months. I survived all of those, too.

I still have several months left of firsts for our second baby, leading up to the first anniversary of the miscarriage. Maybe they won't be as hard since I've now been through many firsts already. But I expect some things to still sting.

change of perspective?

I really, really, really like the therapist I'm seeing. 

Today Paul came with me (yay - only took a couple months of convincing!), so we talked a lot about how I feel things and how that affects our relationship, when Paul doesn't feel things exactly the same way. We also talked about how he's doing. It was a good conversation, and he's even open to coming with me again.

We talked about how low I've been feeling lately, and I felt a bit validated when Paul agreed that it has been worse lately, for whatever reason. She suggested that I go back to some of the coping strategies that helped me early on, since what I'm feeling is so raw again. One of those is to set aside time each day (or when I need it, but the time should be intentional) to address my feelings and let it out. Crying, journaling, blogging?, whatever, but it's time to give purpose to the feelings. The reason is to set aside specific time so that the feelings don't HAVE to penetrate every moment of every day. This is EXACTLY where I've been bogged down lately. It's like the grief is a weighted vest that makes breathing difficult. I can be intentional about growing stronger while working with it rather than exhausted from working against it. I own it. It doesn't own me. 

I am a feeling person. Is anyone surprised?? To a degree, I have chosen this path. It can be a harder road to refer to my babies as people rather than "just" pregnancies. There is no distance in that for me. Other people might cope differently, and that's okay. Today she suggested that I also might choose to see the good - celebrate the life that exists, first here on earth, in me, and now in heaven. I feel like I have focused more on what I DON'T have, especially since I knew these babies for so little time and never got to hold them. But I CAN celebrate their lives.  

"The LORD gave, and the LORD hath taken away; blessed be the name of the LORD." Job 1:21
God gave my babies life, and my babies dwell in heaven now. I will praise God now and forever, and I look forward to the day we all celebrate life together.

I'm going to work on this. And if you find me stuck in my own head, please remind me, dear friends, to celebrate life.