so...

I'm not really a fan of this month.
It just has overwhelming memories of the end of my first pregnancy, me and Mason's hospitalization, Mason's death and my re-hospitalization tied to it.

I'm really trying my best to keep myself busy with Noah, Olive and the rest of our family and friends. It makes my heart feel just a tad bit better.  The busier I am, the less likely I am to completely crack in half.  I've spent many seconds, hours, minutes, days, weeks and now years thinking and grieving over my baby.  I just have to keep moving or else I will get stuck.  He's always with me and I will always think of him, but I can't go into a depressive state over and over again now that Noah and Olive are here.

While we were in Dallas, I kept thinking about how I should go visit Mason's gravesite, but in the end I just couldn't make myself go... it really hurts so much to have that visual marker for our gone-too-soon baby staring me straight in the face.  Is there something wrong with me for not taking time to visit his grave?

I sort of wish there were a straightforward manual on how to grieve the loss of your baby, although I am pretty sure I wouldn't be very good at following it... it would still be nice to know what's normal and how others have found some healing.

3 years gone...

The 13th of October was the 3rd anniversary Mason's death.  It wasn't anything like you would imagine.  It was perfectly fine...I think I only cried once.  Which is actually pretty good considering I still cry at least once a week about him.  I feel as though I have had to become so callous in order to make it through these days (his birthday, death anniversary and Infant Loss Remembrance day, Christmas, Easter, Halloween, the day I found out I was pregnant).  It's not like I can lay in bed and cry all day on every difficult day with a maniacal toddler running around the house... believe me I have tried.  It just doesn't work well.

So I suppress my feelings because it makes getting through life a little more bearable...

But then you end up crying at the most random times... Like while you are behind a curtain in a shopping mall dressing room and you are suddenly hit with deja vu of the time you sat behind a curtain while your precious son was being worked on by group of big hearted nurses and doctors.   Watching feet scurry behind the curtain, hearing unfamiliar beeps and having no idea what any of it meant.  Being brought back to the moments before he died.  Remembering the waiting 5 horrific minutes as Jonathan drove the hospital (it seemed like 6 years).  Calling out to God over and over again on my hands and knees as the staples from my new c-section wound ripped at my body. Being moved to the chapel because I was probably making a lot of the other NICU parents horribly uncomfortable.  Receiving the news that he was gone.  Holding him and rocking him and praying over him one last time.  All of these memories hitting me at shopping mall dressing room... mind you not on any special anniversary day...with my toddler in tow and having no other option but to push everything inside and press on.

I wish I could be better at timing these moments.  It would be so much easier to get it all out when I'm supposed to... but alas it just happens out of the blue and boy do those moments just take you back and knock you off your feet.

On the night you were born... by Nancy Tillman

"On the night you were born,

The moon smiled with such wonder

That the stars peeked in to see you

And the night wind whispered,

“Life will never be the same.”

Because there had never been anyone like you…ever in the world.

So enchanted with you were the wind and the rain

That they whispered the sound of your wonderful name.

It sailed through the farmland

High on the breeze…

Over the ocean…

And through the trees…

Until everyone heard it

And everyone knew

Of the one and only ever you.

Not once had there been such eyes,

Such a nose,

Such silly, wiggly, wonderful toes.

When the polar bears heard,

They danced until dawn.

From faraway places,

The geese flew home.

The moon stayed up until

Morning next day.

And none of the ladybugs flew away.

So whenever you doubt just how special you are

And you wonder who loves you, how much and how far,

Listen for geese honking high in the sky.

(They’re singing a song to remember you by.)

Or notice the bears asleep at the zoo.

(It’s because they’ve been dancing all night for you!)

Or drift off to sleep to the sound of the wind.

(Listen closely…it’s whispering your name again!)

If the moon stays up until morning one day,

Or a ladybug lands and decides to stay,

Or a little bird sits at your window awhile,

It’s because they’re all hoping to see you smile…

For never before in story or rhyme

(not even once upon a time)

Has the world ever known a you, my friend,

And it never will, not ever again…

Heaven blew every trumpet

And played every horn

On the wonderful, marvelous

Night you were born."

Mason, 

I will never get that night back... that beautiful night you were born.  You changed so much inside me with just one breath and for that I am forever grateful.  Even though you were born 10 weeks early, all of the doctors and nurses tried really hard to make your debut a beautiful and exciting experience and it definitely was.  We smiled and beamed with pride because you were our beautiful boy with endless possibilities ahead of you.  

My heart breaks every day for you and all the others that didn't get to know and grow with their families just like you.  Cutting such a new life short is always difficult to understand and deal with.  I often dream of what 3 year-old Mason would look like...Your hair, your smile, your personality.  I think about whether or not you and Noah would play well together. What would your favorite food be?  What color would you prefer? Would you favor your right hand? Would you love swimming?  I think about these things all the time because we never got to know you. I try so hard not to be a complete mess, but it's really hard because I miss you so terribly much.  

You will always be so special and so loved.

Love always and forever, 
Mommy.

putting it out there

I know it's been a while since I have written much about Mason and about my loss.  Not because I am in any way over it.  I have just been too busy to collect my thoughts lately.  I have been failing in so many areas in my life and I couldn't bare to put my fingers to my keyboard and admit that yet again my heart and soul are failing me too.

I am sad.  I am missing my little boy.  That boy who never reached 3lbs and never left the hospital alive.  That boy who never got to have long cuddles with mommy or daddy.  That boy who never nursed his mama's milk.  That boy who never had a newborn photoshoot, a six month photoshoot or even a first birthday photoshoot. Heck... he didn't even had a first birthday (at least with me).  I am so super sad that this little boy, this shadow on my heart, has been away from me 2 years 3 months, 1 week and 1 day and I have not spent more than 5 hours away from our other baby in his whole life. It pains me when I look back in my review mirror to see only one carseat strapped in the backseat instead of two.  I find myself eyeballing and doing double takes at strawberry blonde little boys walking past me to make sure they are not my son even though I held him after he had passed.  I know that he is gone.  I still just can't even imagine it.  I still just can't even believe it.

As sad as I am.  I am a semi-functional sad.  The kind that has learned to quietly and quickly shed tears so as to go unnoticed by the rest of the world.  I am trying at least?!?

I know there are many of you who are still in the un-functional mode of sad and I want to be there for you so badly.  I want to be there for you women who have no one to talk to because everyone already believes that you should be healed by now or they are just plain uncomfortable around you since your child died.  I wish I could hold your hand, pray for you and/or listen to you talk about your baby.  That baby that you missed out on, but NEVER STOPPED LOVING.  Of course I would be sad and probably cry quite a bit, but that is probably just what you would need.  Someone to cry with you, someone to help you feel less alone in all of this.

Just know that offer is always on the table...

December 16th

2 years ago Sunday I was supposed to be largely pregnant with our sweet Mason.  That was his "official" due date.  I know I spend a lot of time mourning the month of October (his birth and death month), but December is also a fairly difficult month for me as well.

Prayers for Gus

Our sweet puppy was attacked by a rather large dog last night.  The owner and the dog ran from the scene of the crime.  Gus is in critical condition and had to stay over night, sedated at the animal hospital.  He will most likely need surgery in the morning.

Saying that I am upset would be an understatement.

Gus was our first little glimpse at the role of parenthood.  He has been our spoiled pooch for 4.5 years.  He sleeps in bed with us.  He and Noah are best friends.  He nursed me back to health after losing Mason.  Stayed in bed with me day after day while I battled depression.  I am NOT ready for him to leave us.

We prayed over him before we left the animal hospital.  I know you are thinking that this is just a dog, but he is our sweet Gus.   He has been through so very much with us, so really he is not JUST a dog.

Proverbs tells us in chapter 12 verse 10 that a righteous man regardeth the life of his animal.  Gus is an important member of our household.  He is loved by everyone he meets.

I am just in tears about this.  I had the hardest time leaving him at the hospital and I am sure that everyone thought I was absolutely crazy with how much I was crying. I wish I could have sat there and held him all night, but he needed to be further treated.

We will know more when the doctors call us in the morning.  Until then, we wait...

Please, send well wishes and prayers for Gus.  We greatly desire to hold our precious, healthy furbaby again.


<3

looking inwards.

sometimes I still don't see it.  Someone I know from a support group just had her baby.  She went through something similar to what I went through with preeclampsia and a premature baby, but her little one survived.  It's a wonderful story.  She went on to have another baby and this pregnancy was completely different from the last.  She had a full term little one and didn't get sick.  Another absolutely wonderful story.  It's hard to believe sometimes that I am on the other side of the fence and that I have had a wonderful story.  I know I live it and breath it now that I interact with Noah every single day, but sometimes I just can't feel it.  Sometimes I feel like I am back in that place where I was sick and without a baby.  How horrible is that?  I have a gorgeous, precious and living baby right here with me and I am still doubting it all.

I don't get it...Is there something terribly wrong with me?  Why can't I feel as though we had a successful experience?  Will Mason's birth overshadow everything with a negative light?

Promise Walk 2012

Today we (Jonathan, Noah, Peter, Rachel, Will, Kaitlin and Dan) walked in the Promise Walk for Preeclampsia.  It felt so good to walk to support a cause that is so near and dear to my heart.  We walked in memory of my beloved son, Mason and so many mommies and babies that perished from enduring the very complicated and unpredictable condition that is preeclampsia. We also celebrated those who are survivors and are walking around here today.  I am amazed that I am actually one of those survivors.

On October 11, 2010, I could have died.  I still get freaked out just thinking about it and then it's even more strange and depressing to realize that our own baby actually experienced it.  This condition that I could do nothing to prevent and doctors could basically do nothing to fix overtook our lives and wreaked havoc.  But thankfully I am still here.

In all honesty, I really just wanted to express how blessed I feel to of made it through that extremely difficult and scary time in my life.  I am so glad that I am able to share my story with others and hopefully make a difference to someone whether it be to help them seek medical attention or for emotional support. I am so happy that we were able to conceive and carry to term our precious boy, Noah.  Today I feel blessed and gracious and sad all around, but mostly hopeful that there will someday  be an answer for this miserable condition that has affected so many wonderful people I know.

Until that day, I will keep spreading the word and keep walking.

loss

A friend from my youth just experienced the loss of her baby.  I am so overwhelmed with pain and emotion for her.  I had prayed so hard that no one would EVER have to feel this sorrow that I carry around on my back, but I know she is pained beyond compare and there is nothing that can be done to undo it.

If you get a chance, please pray for her, her husband and her family.  Pray for comfort, strength and peace that passes all understanding.

He has made me glad!

An online forum acquaintance of mine just announced that she delivered her baby at 39 weeks without ANY complications after having a pregnancy very similar to mine in her past.  She delivered her last baby at 29 weeks because of preeclampsia and her baby died later from complications of prematurity.  This is just one of many success stories I have heard in the last few months and it makes my heart swell up with so much happiness.  It also gives me so much hope for what me and this little guy might have in store for us.

For you make me glad by your deeds, O LORD; I sing for joy at the works of your hands

Psalm 92:4  

Getting out of town

Jonathan and I decided a few weeks back that we would spend the majority of Mason's anniversary week out of town so that we could be together and distract ourselves from being too sad.  It had to be somewhere nearby because I have been ordered by my doctors to stay close and it had to be peaceful.  We couldn't think of any place better than Santa Barbara.

To tell you the truth, these days have really not been any harder than any other day for me and no it really wasn't because of the beautiful scenery or the fun outings.  I think the reason it all feels like normal is because I have been living in my grief since Mason died.  The worst part about this time is that I have been apart from Mason longer than I actually knew/knew about him.  My time with him grows further and further away.  I prepared myself for such a heart-wrenching week, that when it arrived, it was almost like an emotional let down.  Let me explain that I am still completely wrecked over him not being here with us, it's just that I feel that way all the time.  I could sit down and cry a puddle any hour of any day... it's doesn't matter if it were last week or on the exact minute of his death.  It's a pain that stays, but it becomes more tolerable as time goes on.  So instead of crying ALL day long and never leaving my bed (and believe me, there were several months of those days), I can put it off to 6:00 in the evening when I am lonely and everyone back home is settling in for dinner and Jonathan is still a few hours from taking off work.  I have found many other ways to express my grief and have done so to make it more fair on myself and on my husband.  It's already completely 100% unfair that at 24 years old, my baby died and I was left to live a life without knowing him and watching him grow up, but it is also unfair to spend the rest of my life not paying tribute to his little soul and not living.

I don't really know why I started this post in the first place, but I guess it was to let you know that I survived year 1.  I'm not telling you so that I can win some prize or anything, but I think it's important to say it just in case some new baby loss mama or daddy comes across my blog and is about to enter the journey that I have already been sent on.  This is more for those readers.

And so is this note below:

I'm so sorry you lost your little one. I am so sorry that you are hurting. I know some days seem like eternity and that it also seems like just yesterday you were with your baby, but those days will become less and less difficult. You will still miss and love your child with a crazy intensity that NO one will be able to understand because they have never been in your shoes. You will still be a parent no matter what any horrible person might say.  You are stronger than you think you are. You just need to be patient and be brave. You can do this. Just keep walking through this storm. God will see you through.  

You'll Never Walk Alone by Rodgers and Hammerstein

When you walk through a storm

Keep your chin up high

And don't be afraid of the dark.

At he end of the storm

Is a golden sky

And the sweet silver song of a lark.

Walk on through the wind,

Walk on through the rain,

Tho' your dreams be tossed and blown. Walk on, walk on

With hope in your heart

And you'll never walk alone,

You'll never walk alone.