still learning

I'm sure everyone in my position has thought, "Why did my baby die?"  I then think am I asking why my baby- as opposed to someone else's baby?  I certainly wouldn't wish this on another person.  Am I asking why my baby- as opposed to my toddler, preschooler, or school age child? Would it have been better if he had come home with me and died later of SIDS?  Losing a child at any point is losing part of your heart-- a part of yourself.

Someone asked how I was, and I explained I literally couldn't think of anything worse.  Not that aren't worse things, but at this time I cannot make myself conjure an image of a worse thing.  This thing feels so terrible, even imagining something worse could break me.

What you can do is say; “Yes, this sucks. But what’s the lesson? What can I take away from this to make me a better person? How can I take strength from this and use it to bring me closer to happiness in my next moment?”

The Science of Happiness: Why complaining is literally killing you.
By Steven Parton, From CuriousApes.com
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Statistics didn't help this time. 1% of American babies are still born. 1.6% of cesarian section wounds come open after surgery. The doctor informed me I had a certain infection which could have (very small chance) affected Michael (although the infection was not found in his placenta) and the chances of me getting this infection are so small there aren't even statistics concerning the possibilities.
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I asked the doctor yesterday what he had put on my FMLA paperwork about going back to work. He said I was cleared to do whatever I wanted as of that day. However, he had signed the paperwork that I was also free to choose to NOT go back to work for 6 weeks after the c-section.

I asked the nurse about it as well and she said, "Yeah sure, do what you want to do- but if you are at the gym doing a really hard workout or something, and it starts to hurt real bad- you should probably stop."

It's kind of like they haven't noticed the gaping, seeping wound in my abdomen.

First of all I don't go to the gym and "work out real hard" EVER- and I'm certainly not going to do it now that I can only walk at a turtle pace- and I only bend at the hips in straight up emergencies.

As for going back to work- sounds a little iffy when I have a doctor's or nurse's appointment 4 of the 5 work days a week.
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I had a new home healthcare nurse yesterday and she decided to "explore the wound." She stuck a cotton swab in the wound and it felt like lava was running all the way across the wound and out the other side! So ... I yelled- some. And she said, "You have a lot of undermining. Did they tell you you had undermining?" Then she mumbled about "undermining" for a while. While I prayed "Please God, whatever she just did, don't let her do it again!"

Then she took my blood pressure and said, "Your blood pressure is good, even after all that yelling. I wish all my patients had blood pressure this good, before I make them yell like that."

Well, that's one good thing- I've always had good blood pressure.

All these things

Of all the things laying around the house, this- what I had written on the calendar, was the thing that upset me the most.  I have baby clothes, diapers, formula, toys, little blue blankets, crib, bassinet- all these things and this little note of expectation is what was upsetting me the most yesterday.

And of all the things I've bought and made in the last 9 months for my baby boy- this knitted feather is the thing that I've latched on to for comfort.  It is something to hold on to when I'm thinking about him.

Today wasn't terrible- I had feared it would be worse- but the anticipation of what I thought it would be turned out to be the hardest part. I had wanted to go to the funeral home and pay and get the cremation process started, but the home health nurse came for the first time today, so we didn't have enough time. The nurse changed the dressing and good news, it didn't hurt too much when she redressed it.

Last night the power steering when out on the car- yes of course it did.

Daniel's boss came by today to visit and drop off some cards co-workers had signed.  They had taken a collection for us and it turned out to be exactly the amount we owe the funeral home.

God Provides.

We don't plan to have an open service or memorial for Michael.  It would certainly be upsetting to me, and most likely upsetting to the girls.  I know that many people would like to come support us; I appreciate that.  It simply isn't the type of support I want/need or even know how to deal with.  I want to know people are still praying for us- I want to know you put us on a long term prayer list.

I'm a private person- this is a matter of the heart- which cannot be hidden. We don't want to hide it. We rejoiced and everyone rejoiced  when we announced a coming boy.  We cannot pretend that he wasn't and that he won't always be a part of us- I can't pretend I'm not sad and I can't keep my eyes dry to make anyone comfortable.  I physically, emotionally, spiritually can't do anything except what I've been doing.

Everyday Eowyn repeats back to me something we've told her in the past weeks.  Tonight she said, "It's okay to cry and be sad."  I said, "That's right, and it's okay to play and have fun too."

We just keep reminding ourselves- it's okay- it's going to be okay.

A letter for my baby boy

2.22.16

“I have gotten a man with the help of the LORD.” Gen 4:1

My Dearest Sweet Baby Michael,

I never thought I’d love a red-headed boy, but you changed me forever in more than one way.

It took over a year to conceive you.  I was just ready to give up. I’m 41, the chances of you coming along were getting slimmer every missed month.  But there you were on Father’s Day- “the best Father’s Day gift ever”- the promise of a child.  I wanted you to be a boy- I wanted to make a man.  I had dreams for you before you ever were.

I wanted you to be tall and smart and handsome like your daddy, and talented like your namesake uncle, and loving and sensitive like your big sisters.  I wanted you to have dark hair and blue eyes like me- because I’ve always wanted a dark haired baby. I wanted to see you with grey hair holding my hand at the end of our days together.

You won’t become all the things I wanted- and that is true for every parent- but you will always be my perfect baby I held in my womb for nine months and in my arms for only a few hours. 

You didn’t open your eyes, but you opened my heart.  You will always be in my heart, but also inexplicably-  you will always be my missing piece.

I made a feather for you. It didn’t really mean anything at the time, just a trinket- a little thing to match the tiny hat.  Now that little trinket- that feather is an anchor.  Just a little feather that I worry though my fingers to remind me that you were real- you were mine- you are mine- you will always be mine. Although you won’t be in my arms again on this earth, I know you are in the arms of the angels until I see you again.

I want to stop crying for you.  I want to smile when I think of you- I realize I’m not crying for you- I’m crying for me.  I see a red headed boy and I cry and I think ‘would he have stayed strawberry blond?  Would he be blonde like his sisters?  Would he have been auburn or turned dark?  Would he be fair?’  I thought you looked very much like your sister Lailah.  Lailah is beautiful, I imagine you two would have been very much alike.

I believe I will always see you- in your sisters and in a thousand little boys. 

On Monday February 22, 2016 we planned to celebrate your birthday; instead you will return to dust, from which we all come. 

It has been my great joy to have brought forth a man.  It has been my great sorrow to lose a son.

I will celebrate your life.  I will cry (a lot) and I hope one day I will smile for you, my love.

I wish I could write something more beautifully phrased.  Even these few lines took such effort.  I would say I am broken, but that’s not true.  I’m not broken- but I am bent to the ground and Satan is biting at my heel. My comfort is knowing he is crushed beneath our feet and you are safe forever.

I love you forever and always, more than I can say, more than I can show-

Mama

I'm home 2.19.16

Reset
I'm home
The morphine is gone, but the headache remains
It feels good to bend my elbow without setting off an alarm.
We went to the ER at 12:30 Wednesday morning.  According to my thermometer (which I now think is a liar) my temp was 102 or maybe 101.9- either way I had told my husband that I would call the doctor if my temp got that high.  (Even though the doctor told me to call if it got above 100.4, that just sounded like a silly number to me.)

I called the on-call doctor, and it turned out my doctor was on-call.  Just when he was about to tell me to Not come in, he  asked about the antibiotics I was supposed to be taking.  I told him the pharmacy had told me twice that they had never been called in.  Twice after office hours of course- so I hadn't started them yet.

Then he sort of freaked.  He told me I needed to go in immediately.  He said he was calling the ER doctor to give him instructions for when I got there.  He said, "They are going to admit you."

So we began gathering the stuff- looking through the bags of stuff we hadn't unpacked from the last trip to the hospital. This pillow- that robe, don't forget the headphones and the phone charger, yes I need my slippers and I should take a book.

In the waiting room Eowyn wanted to know why that girl was crying and kept asking if I was okay.  I told her I was okay and she struggled to keep her eyes open.  She didn't want to miss anything.  When my name was called I shuffled along behind the tech. Daniel and the girls shuffled along behind me.  In the exam room a beautiful blonde nurse and a handsome young doctor introduced themselves and told me what they were going to do- then they both disappeared for over an hour.

The nurse came back to draw blood and put in an IV.  She was pretty, but didn't seem to have much practice with "rolling" veins.  Although the floor nurses had not had any trouble finding a vein, ER nurse was having no such luck.  The girls thought the whole procedure was amazing.  Eowyn was basically up under the nurse's arm trying to see what would happen next- and she kept giving me advice- "Okay mama, close your eyes!  It's only gonna hurt a little bit!" Then to the nurse, "What's that? What are you doing? Why are you doing that? Can I have that?  I can hold that for you."

Eventually she had the IV in and two blood samples for cultures and one for the immediate lab use.  That's when I said, "The doctor mentioned something about pain medication?"  She said, "Oh! I'll get that for you and your fluids, and your antibiotic."

When she came back an hour later and hooked me up I asked when I would be moved to a room.  By that time it was nearly 6:00AM and we were all starting to lose it.  She said, "Oh, I'll have to check- but maybe not until 8:00 or 9:00- we have a lot of people in holding because there aren't enough empty beds upstairs.

Surprisingly she came back less than an hour later to tell us I had a room and they were ready to take me to it.

In the room the girls got weepy because they were so tired and stressed, but they had really been so good all night in that cramped little exam room. They left their most prized possession with me, Eowyn's favorite Teddy Bear and Lailah's favorite toy 'Broccoli.' What sweet girls I have.

Emptiness

I've been dreaming of empty buildings and empty rooms.

Emptiness 
To dream of emptiness suggests that there is something missing or lacking in your life. It symbolizes fruitless labor, an emotional void, or loneliness. There is nothing to show for all the effort that you have dedicated to a project or relationship. In particular, to dream that a container is empty represents optimism.

http://dreammoods.com/cgibin/dreamdictionarysearch.pl?method=exact&header=dreamsymbol&search=empty