My two babies

Ben put Whit to bed around 8:00 pm tonight as always. I took a shower then laid in bed, enjoying the quiet and feeling exhausted from a long day. Ben was downstairs studying. Laying in bed was hard, because there always seems to be something more valuable for me to do with my time. I made over 30 items that were ordered from my store currently sitting in a pile on the floor- I should print out packing slips and prepare them for mailing. The missionaries and possibly a friend are coming to dinner tomorrow- I should pre-make brownies or clean the house. Ben wants me to take a professional picture of him before church since he'll be wearing a suit- I need to research the best lighting techniques for a head shot.

But, for some reason, I had an overwhelming urge to re-read my blog posts and journal entries about Eleanor. I chose to do that.

So this is a post about raising a beautiful, healthy child who makes me incredibly happy with the memory of our first child looming in my heart. It's a post I've been wanting to write for a while.

I wrote in one of my posts post-Eleanor, pre-Whit that I wanted a baby and didn't think it was fair to have to experience two pregnancies and deliveries for just one baby. Well, I loved my second pregnancy (even my second delivery), and now I do have the baby I'd wanted. But don't think that he replaces her in any way. I don't. She doesn't. Ben and I decided to move on as much as possible. Not to dwell on the past, but to enjoy our family now and look forward to a reunion in the future. We chose not to ever look at the pictures taken of El when she was delivered or from her funeral, and not to celebrate her birthday anymore (though of course we will talk about her and explain her to Whit when he is older.) But I want to take just one opportunity to set the record straight on how I feel and how this is impacting our lives. I don't want anyone to think I have pushed Eleanor aside.

On one hand, carrying a baby to term and raising him makes a pregnancy ending at 26 weeks seem so trivial. The logical side of me understands that 26 weeks is just a small portion of what it takes to get and raise a child! So, to all those who thought I was making too big a deal of things when we lost Eleanor, I sort of understand why you may have thought that. On the other hand, I know what it feels like to carry, love, and have hopes for a child who never came home with you. The emotional side of me is still heartbroken over what we went through. So try to imagine this quasi-realism I'm living in: missing and remembering one child I love but barely know and experienced so much with, while raising a child who feels like the other half of my soul. It's confusing!

My friend Jessica (whom I've mentioned before) delivered her fourth stillborn child this summer. She called a few weeks later asking what it was like to have experienced a stillbirth and a live birth. She wanted to know if I loved my children differently.

Yes.

I told her (and cried) that Eleanor feels like my guardian angel. Someone I could talk to for hours and ask for help. Someone I'm excited to do girlfriend things with- talk about books, get manicures, giggle. She is someone who knows me, someone I can trust who will always be there for me when I need it, and will wait patiently when I don't. But Whit is part of me. Part me. He is the other half of my soul- someone I know better than myself whom I would give my life for. Someone who makes my heart hurt when he cries. I've never felt more connected to a person in my life.

In short, Eleanor takes care of me and I take care of Whit. Eleanor seems like my future best friend, Whit is just a helpless baby who looks at me like I'm his entire world.

The first week I could go to church after Eleanor was born our Relief Society lesson was on the spirit world. a new member of our ward (and currently a great friend of mine) told a story about a family from her old ward whose 8-month-old had choked on a Lego and died. I actually thought, I know how that mother feels. But at least she knew her baby. My pain is worse, I could never even hold Eleanor. Well, in retrospect, YEAH, RIGHT! What was I thinking? After Eleanor was born death became so real to me. I was terrified of losing Ben, or of him losing me. We would constantly talk about "What if" scenarios to make sure we would each be as prepared as possible. Now, no surprise, I'm trying not to let myself become convinced that I'll loose Whit too early. I can truly say I appreciate every moment with him- like I'm trying to soak in as much as possible "Just in case." Every thing I do is with his well-being and happiness in mind. I live for him! And if he died now I don't know how I would survive. Losing a child you already know and love, one you have held and rocked and nourished and sung to, would be a living hell. I suffered when I lost Eleanor, but not as badly as it would hurt to lose Whit. Not by a long shot.

And yes, I do feel guilty for saying that. But it's true.

It would be impossible not to love them differently, but I still love and think about Eleanor quite often. Having Whit hasn't really softened that blow much. He has made me so happy, but he doesn't take the pain away from my completely separate experience with her. In fact, when Whit and I pillow talk I can't tell him he's my favorite baby ever. I say he's my favorite baby boy. I've tried- the words just can't come out. When I do I try telling myself to be realistic and grow up, but my body won't let me. It feels like a betrayal to Eleanor, and I am physically incapable of doing that. I sang "You are my sunshine" to him for a while, but felt guilty every time. He will never be "my only sunshine." Ben eventually put my thoughts to words, and I haven't been able to choke those words out ever since. The melody is so familiar that it tries to come out, so I have to make up new lyrics after "You are my..." comes out of my lips.


So why the sudden rush to remember the past tonight? To re-read my words and see the pictures and delve into the emotions that have been hidden for so long?

It took five past blog posts to realize it: Today is the anniversary of Eleanor's due date.


But I'm not sad anymore.

In fact, a good friend is due with a baby girl (their first) in February and I'm planning her baby shower and giving her parenting advice. And I'm happy to do it!

Do you ever think "I just want the Second Coming to be here already!"? I do. That was my first thought when it was announced that the missionary age was being lowered, every natural disaster, and community crisis. To be honest, I think go on, world- get worse. BRING. IT. ON. Because that means the second coming is getting closer, and I am OH SO EXCITED for my family to be reunited! (I feel like a complete nut sometimes, but Jessica completely agreed with me on that!) I can't wait to teach Whit about Eleanor, and to eventually watch them interact with each other.

So, in closing, what it comes down to is that raising Whit makes me love Eleanor even more and anticipate our reunion with so much joy. If I love him so much, I'll be twice as complete when we are all together again!

Wow, so much to look forward to! I feel so, so lucky!

For now, this is how I imagine my children:

Feelings on Pregnancy After Stillbirth Part 2 :)

I'm writing this while laying down on my couch, reeling with a head cold, still in my pajamas (I hate being a slug), thinking about grocery shopping and other errands, running on little to no sleep, spent last night doing taxes for the business (3 hours!), and Ben left this morning to go out of town for a couple of days.

And yet, I feel so happy it {literally} brings tears to my eyes to think about.

Yes, a lot of that joy is from the little guy (or gal) moving around inside me and the hope a new life and fulfilled dreams brings, but a fair amount is just my life in general.

My husband, for one, is the bright spot in my day.  There is nothing about Ben that I would change! I have been incredibly tired during this pregnancy and have daily migraines, so I'm never interested in cleaning, grocery shopping, cooking... or anything else that needs to go on in the house.  I reserve the energy I have for my work and going to the gym, and our home gets left behind.  I can't express the gratitude I feel that Ben just lets me be, and supports me in all the endeavors that fulfill me.  Though nothing too interesting ever happens to me, and by this time I'm usually completely worn out and can hardly lift my head from the couch pillow, my favorite time of day is when he comes homes and we cook and eat dinner together and talk about our days.  He has great insights for my own thoughts and opinions, and always acts interested in my plans.  I grow more in love with him every day! Honestly, I attribute a lot of that to the struggles we went through in 2011. We learned so much as we saw each struggle in different ways and learned to rely on one another and our love to get through.

Personally, my life is exactly what I wanted it to be.  My business has grown significantly but is still manageable.  I am just busy enough to feel productive, get a self-esteem boost, and earn enough extra money to treat myself to new clothes :) With plenty of down time in between to rest, relax, and take care of myself and this baby. I love the creativity and fulfillment that comes from being my own boss, running a successful business, and designing items that people seem to really appreciate.  What a terrific feeling.

I've also recently joined a gym and find time to go 3-4 times a week.  I only do light cardio on the treadmill and some weightlifting for my arms, back, and legs, but getting out of the house for some "me" time, being around other enthusiastic people, and helping my body adjust to this pregnancy are so motivating for me!

Now, on to this baby... 

New Years' really did help me turn a new leaf.  I told myself that 2012 would be a fresh beginning, and I guess I made myself believe it :) When no dates on the calender reminded me of Eleanor anymore I was "Free" to think about this new baby as much as I wanted.  I was not prepared, though, for how passionately I would love him or her already! After losing El and for the first few weeks of my pregnancy I knew all I would want is the baby- not the pregnancy part all over again.  I would tell Ben: "Next time I'm pregnant, just wake me up at 27 weeks so I can pick up where I left off." I devoured everything I could find on pregnancy with Eleanor, and I had no desire to do that a second time so quickly.

Well, folks, I was wrong.  I'll say it again for the benefit of those who know me: I WAS WRONG! 

As soon as New Years hit I was just as excited for this baby as I ever was with Eleanor.  We were visiting Ben's brother and sister-in-law at the time, and together Tamara and I talked about all things related to pregnancy.  I haven't stopped since! I start my day out by reading information on my stage of pregnancy on phone or iPad apps every morning, then listen to the baby's heart beat.  It starts my day off right, and I glow for the rest of the day!

I would even venture to say I'm more excited for this pregnancy than with Eleanor, but I may be confusing excited with contentment and peace.  I was worried from {before} day 1 with her that something would go wrong, which really weighed down my feelings.  It was as if only my passion could fuel her on to survive and thrive alone.  This time around there is no concern at all.  Every now and then the doppler doesn't pick up the heart beat right away and my breath catches in my throat, only to be found a second later confirming that I have nothing to fear. I tell you... a content pregnant lady is a happy pregnant lady! Why didn't anyone ever tell me to just calm down already when I was pregnant before?

My life is perfect. For me, anyway :)

All-in-all, I think I'm fulfilling all of Maslow's Heirarchy of Needs!

Personalized Ultrasound Picture Frame

Prominently framing one of Eleanor's last ultrasound pictures has been on my mind for about a month now, and today I found the perfect frame for the project I had in mind at Michael's (so it turned out to be 40% off, too!)

It was perfect timing because Ben is out of town for a few days and I always get more emotional, sad, lonely, etc., etc.... when he's away.

So, as long as my loved ones were on my mind and I was missing them anyway, I may as well set to work on the craft project I've been planning for weeks!


Materials:

Glue gun w/ glue sticks
Buttons (or ribbon, or other decorations)
Picture frame (with a flat-ish edge or grove for the decorations to fit into)
Baby picture

I was so excited to find bags of tiny buttons in shades of green and blue.  That is exactly what I had wanted to use, and never dreamed I would get so lucky! I chose these colors because I think Eleanor would love green and blue the most, and they match the balloons we released at her funeral. (I know I've promised funeral pictures, but I'm still not ready.  Sorry!)

Gluing the buttons on was so easy, so fast, didn't need to be too precise or careful, and I used way less of the buttons than I thought I would so I have extras in case I do a follow-up project ;)

Finished product!

I added her photo to our family wall, and rearranged the pictures already there so that she is underneath a picture of a statue of a mother and her child I took during our honeymoon in Nicaragua.  

She's also right beside the frame that used to have an engagement photo of us looking really goofy into the camera.  Ben chose that picture of us to add to her casket, and I haven't replaced it. I may one day, but for now I don't mind the reminder.  I like that her pic is beside the empty frame now... We gave ours to her, she gave hers to us!

I feel so wonderful that I've done this.  I love that I will see her everyday. I love that the matting makes her photo prominent.  I love that the frame is simple but personalized and fun for her.  I love that she is added to our family wall.

I am so happy! 

Flowers for Eleanor

I hope one of you gets the title... Danny, maybe?

Eleanor's official marker finally came in in December! The cemetery has been really understanding with us, and filled the attached bronze vase with a beautiful set of violet flowers, then exchanged it for a large Christmas tree, but now it's our turn to honor our little angel our way!

We had a fun discussion about what we would like to keep at El's grave. We thought about taking the vase off and putting an angel garden statue or heavy-duty animal in the space, but removing the vase doesn't actually seem like an option, after all. All of the graves here are flat with these vases, so you just see a field of flower plumes across the yards.  Most of the flowers are fake, placed, then forgotten so there are pieces of disintegrating flower flowing in the wind and scattered across the grass constantly.

We did not want Eleanor's to get as unruly, but I can't guarantee I'll always have fresh flowers, or how long we'll live here to bring them.  When we eventually leave, what could we put in place that wouldn't look so terrible in a few months?

The final (for now) answer came from something we already have in our house.  I have had a vase from my mom for years that I've filled with beautiful glass flowers that I've collected from antique stores across the country (and packed and traveled with very carefully, I might add!) We decided the glass flowers from our own living room would be perfect for the grave marker-- permanent, beautiful, classy-- so us! 

I ordered a set of replacement glass flowers for the vase, but we ended up using the ones I purchased for Eleanor, instead.  Her vase is short, and we were worried that my longer-stemmed flowers would freeze and break more easily than the shorter-stemmed ones that we ordered.

Just to make sure you really appreciate the final product, let's go through the process of Eleanor's grave...


Blank plot (with straw) for months....

Temporary marker...

Permanent  marker...

Permanent marker with hand-picked glass flowers + an LED light provided by Grammy!

Isn't it gorgeous?!?!?!?!?!?!

(P.S. Flowers for Algernon  was one of my favorite books growing up.)

A Special Sealing in Chicago

{Photos courtesy of the photographer, my SIL Sarah!}

The reason for our trip to Wisconsin was to drive with Steve and Tamara to Chicago (just 2 hours away) to celebrate the sealing of Ben's sister, Betsy, with his side of the family.

To be completely honest (this is me, after all), I was sort of apprehensive about this trip.  I am beyond happy for Betsy (and her now-husband, Brad), but we had not originally planned to be present at their sealing. It was scheduled for December 28, and Eleanor was due to be born on December 15.  We expected her to be late (not 3 months early!), and I said early on that I knew I wouldn't want to fly across the country or drive with an infant so soon after having a baby, especially in flu season.  We were happy for Betsy, and really sad to expect to miss her special day.

One blessing from El's early appearance was that we were, suddenly, available to travel for Betsy's sealing.  We did really wanted to be there, but I was concerned that the dissolving of our original expectations would cast a shadow over our trip.  I was worried during the days leading up to the sealing that it would remind me of our change in plans, but I am so happy to report that there was nothing but love and joy on that amazing morning! 

In fact, I was {literally} sobbing from joy during the entire ceremony! Ben and I planned our sealing around Betsy coming home from her LDS mission to Temple Square in April, 2010.  It was important to us to have her there-- "waiting for Betsy" was sort of the joke around our whole engagement and marriage planning, in fact! She flew directly into Columbia and we were sealed the next day.  I was worried that we were raining on her Coming Home parade (everyone deserves their own special moment after such a huge accomplishment), but Betsy handled it so well and told us afterward, "It meant so much to me to see my whole family together in the temple just after coming home from serving the Lord. Thank you."

Well, Betsy, it meant so much to me to witness the sealing of a couple in love and to hear and remember the marriage covenants in the most spiritual place on Earth so soon after losing our daughter! Thank you!

I can not express how beautiful the spirit was, and how comforting.  I was reminded so strongly of the love Ben and I share, and how incredibly grateful I am that we made the decision to be sealed for time and all eternity before we had children (though a family can still be sealed together forever after a death, of course).  You can't plan the future- there was no way for us to know we wouldn't live with our angel. But Heavenly Father knew, and, years ago, restored the Priesthood- the power of God- to the Earth so that families like ours would have the opportunity to be together in the eternities after the devastation of this Earthly life.

It was a powerful message.

After the ceremony we were invited to congratulate the bride and groom.  I gave Brad a hug and told him what a wonderful family he married into, but couldn't say a word to Betsy.  My face was completely tear-stained (I had, at least, tried to sob quietly in the back so we didn't disturb the rest of the family), and I could just hold her tightly and try not to mess up her veil. Betsy, I hope you understand the gratitude I was trying to convey in that moment!

Many happy memories are yet to come to this special couple!

Bring it on, 2012!

A giant smile spread across my face on Jan. 1 (despite the all-day travel from Jackson, WI back to Greensboro).  I am shedding 2011 like a snake's old skin and welcoming in a gleaming new 2012 with open arms.

This is not a surprise to me, but still very comforting.  After Eleanor's birth I knew many things would continue to be difficult: the birth of my sister's triplets two weeks later, setting her grave marker, her due date, and Christmas, but, now that those things have passed, I am truly ready to move on.  A light switch has come on and I realize that, though her birth date may be troublesome for years to come, there are no more significant reminders of our loss on the calendar. I will continue to think of her often, but it will be on my terms and without the shroud of expectation and disappointment or confusion.

Yes, this is the year to move on!

Here is my new favorite song (just ask Ben-- I've been playing or singing it almost non-stop for about two weeks), which moves me to tears because my feelings have been so adequately expressed, once again, in music:


(How do you like that, Jessica?)

Though the year was overshadowed by the loss of our daughter, we were still blessed in many ways we will always be grateful for. We are older and wiser, have more love than we ever expected, and so many rising suns on our horizon.

Thanks for joining us on this road, and help us celebrate new beginnings!

Happy Due Date, El

I woke up this morning like it was any other day.  I checked my e-mail, worked for a few hours, organized packages to take to the post office, watched the Today Show, scheduled where I need to go when to maximize my time....

But, no matter how much I try to ignore it, today is not a regular day. Today was my scheduled due date for Eleanor.  I anticipated being really upset today, and I am sad, but it's sort of a confused sad. See, from now on do I celebrate and remember her on her due date, which is sort of depressing, or on her birthdate?

Also, Christmas is coming up, which I also anticipate being sad on.  I had been really looking forward to Christmas this year- feeling very festive- then it hit me one day that Christmas had been our unofficial "D Day". See, we wanted her to arrive early, of course, but first babies are often late. We knew that Dec. 15 was my due date, but had, of course, no idea when she would actually come.  I would have been induced 7 days after my due date if I hadn't delivered yet, so we did, at least, know that we would have her and be out of the hospital  by Christmas Day.  I even designed this special Christmas baby onesie in honor of her- the best Christmas present we could have asked for. (My sister ordered three of those onesies for her triplets.  That felt sort of weird.)

So now I'm feeling very aware of the absence of our daughter from today until Christmas (I expect.) Let the season begin!

The reality is that we'll think about her and miss her at this time of year and on her birthday, but I'm trying to remember how happy we were on her birthday, too.  We felt so close to her that day and could feel that her spirit was so happy to have received a body.  We felt lucky to have been chosen to be part of an obvious Plan of Heavenly Father's, and excited to have a perfect child waiting for us one day. After the "high" of that experience wore off the sadness set in, but I struggle daily to remember that fulfillment and happiness we felt at first.

So, in an effort to {try to} stay somewhat positive today, I was thinking about the blessings we and our extended family have experienced since we gave in to following Heavenly Father:

1. Ben and I have become very comfortable in Greensboro, even making good friends.  Losing Eleanor brought us closer to many people in our ward, and we are grateful for those friendships. 
2. Our store, uVinyl, has really taken off! It's gone from 4-5 orders a month to 5-8 orders a day since October! Strange timing... 
3. Megan had her triplets safely, and they were home healthy from the hospital in less than a month. 
4. Ben started his MBA program, and finished his first quarter with final grades much higher than the average student. 
5. Our marriage has become so much stronger as we learned to lean on each other and remember how important our family and love is
6. Ben has started traveling again for work-- something he loves, but had been on hold for months due to the economy. 
7. Ben was transferred to work on new projects in his company, and these project teams cause much less stress than the previous ones! 
8. I have finally started volunteering with an organization I've had my eye on for years- Hospice.  I spend about 5 hours/ week with (after two weekends of training...ugh) a very sweet family, and love giving back to someone else at the last stages of his life. 

My ultimate I-Need-to-Invoke-Some-Tears-Because-I-Have-to-Express-How-Much-I-Miss-Eleanor Song: 

"To think I might not see those eyes makes it so hard not to cry.  And we say our long goodbyes I nearly do... Light up, light up.  As if you have a choice.  Even if you cannot hear my voice I'll be right beside you, Dear. Have heart, my Dear, and don't you be afraid, even if it's just for a few days... we'll make up for all this mess..." 

We love you, Baby Girl.  It's hard not to think of "what could have been" on this very day, but we do know that Heavenly Father has a plan, and that, one day, or reunion will be  so sweet. 

Grave Marker Update

I am happy to say that the great Grave Marker Mix-up of 2011 has been resolved!

We e-mailed my blog post to the cemetery so they would better understand the impact of this seemingly innocent mistake, my mom called their office so they would understand how upset we were, and they called me multiple times to apologize.  

After two days of trying to figure out what had happened and how it was going to be fixed, the cemetery called to say that Eleanor's permanent marker was scheduled for delivery on December 2, and that they placed a temporary marker on her grave in the meantime.  I went to see it as soon as I could, and it was very special.  Tears came to my eyes--the temporary marker seems very real, and I loved seeing her name as much as I thought I would!

I decided to be a big girl and thank the office employees in person for their thought in putting up a temporary monument.  I approached their building and their door opened for me by a woman who said, "Hello, Mrs. O'Brien." as if she'd been waiting for me!

She is the cemetery director, and explained why the mix-up happened.  She has only been with the cemetery for three years, and, in that amount of time, Eleanor is the first infant they have buried.  Infant markers are ordered in a different way than adult markers, but nobody had been around long enough to know that! She had processed Eleanor's paperwork just as they would any other, and were as surprised as we were that the order had never gone through.  To make matters worse, the company that produces the markers had just changed the markers they offer and their computer system hadn't yet turned around to process orders from the new stock.  Because of this, her marker wasn't able to be rushed ordered once it did, eventually, go through.  

Everyone there was so upset about this mistake! They have lots of empathy and respect for us, and the special gravesite service we held was really meaningful to them.  They just hated that, of anybody, this had to have happened to us.  

I was still upset about the mixup, but very glad to have seen them in person, cried together, and hear the full story of what happened and their heartfelt apologies.  

Here is the temporary marker:

Forgotten??

My friend, Jessica, recently started a blog.  She wrote consistently for a while, but hasn't had a new post in weeks.  Yesterday I told her I missed hearing her thoughts and feelings, and wanted her to post again.  Being new to the blog-o-sphere, she asked, "What do I blog about?" I told her to write about what she does, her home, her husband, her activities, what she enjoys, what she is passionate about... Basically, what's important to her.

I'm taking my own advice.

It may be venting, complaining, and all-out negativity, but it's how I feel. It's what's going on in my life.  It's what's important to me [and Ben].

I had a breakdown today... while I was at the Post Office, of all places.  A full-on cry-fest.  Over Eleanor.

Eleanor was born on Saturday, Sept. 10.  My mom made funeral/ burial arrangements for us that weekend, and we had a small gravesite burial service on Monday, Sept. 12.  It wasn't a horrible day, actually.  I took a lot of pictures and was still so proud to have given her a body.  I haven't even looked at those pictures, though.  I've been waiting for some more time to go by.  My goal was to process the event of her burial more fully when her grave marker was put in place.  I would take pictures of her plot and finally blog about her burial when all those pieces had been put together.

We were told to wait 4-6 weeks for her marker to be put in place.  At 6 weeks it still wasn't there, but I gave them a couple extra weeks of leeway before intruding myself.  I casually inquired a couple of times, but at the end of October Ben asked about the status of her marker while I was in Columbia.  They told him, once again, that they would call when it came in.

Today, over 10 weeks post-burial, her marker still isn't there.  I called myself this time, and was told that the order had never been placed.  Had we not been called? No.  I was told that they didn't even realize it hadn't been ordered until Ben came to their office.  Well, he visited on Oct. 28, but the marker wasn't even ordered until a full week later!

I was given this news over the phone while mailing packages at USPS. I broke down in the middle of the transaction.  Luckily, I really like everyone I've met at their office, and the woman helping me was really kind. She, too, had had a stillborn baby.

She passed me a box of Kleenex and asked what was wrong. I'm sure she wasn't prepared when the first thing out of my mouth was, "My daughter died a couple of months ago..."

In addition to it being my goal for "moving on", I have been looking forward to seeing her grave marker for many reasons.  Her cemetery is down the road from our Post Office in one direction, and from church in the other direction, so I visit when I mail stuff for uVinyl (at least once or twice a week), and on Sunday afternoons with Ben.  Every time we go I *HOPE* her grave marker is there because I fervently want to see her name written out in weather-and-time-proof metal and granite.  I want her to be official.  I want her place to be official.  I want to have a designated vase for fresh flowers.  I want to add some loving words in vinyl.

I know this isn't my fault, but it feels so personal.  I feel like a neglectful mother. My child is in a nameless grave. She was, literally, forgotten. By multiple people, including me, for not checking up sooner.  I think I've handled our loss as well as could possibly be hoped for, but her being forgotten is something I can not stand for or let go.  All day I've started crying whenever I think about it.  It feels like the worst part... Like she was worth so little... And that's not ok.

How would you feel? 

 The view as you drive in to her cemetery

I love this bright tree right in front... 

There is even a beautiful pond in the cemetery, which I love. I think Eleanor loves nature.

They call the area where the babies are buried "Babyland". 

See the cluster of flowers around the trees toward the fence?

This shows the windchimes and Easter Eggs that have been tied to the trees in the middle of Babyland.  There are a lot of little toys, etc., for the children here.  It's sweet. 

Eleanor's spot is the one with the hay over it...

By the time her marker is added the ground will be frozen.  It will probably be snowing.  It makes me really upset to think of waiting until Winter to see her name.  I want her to see her name. 

Desperately. 

Sunrise at OBX with Ben and Eleanor

Last Thursday Ben came home from work and suggested we go to the beach for the weekend.  He has heard a lot about the Outer Banks, I grew up going there, and we have been meaning to go since we moved to N.C.  I told him we should wait until the fall to beat the tourists, and, after all that has happened, we found ourselves too busy to go.  Going last weekend seemed impulsive, but perfect.

We got into the OBX on Friday night.  We checked into our hotel on the beach, then strolled the shoreline for a night of stargazing.  We decided to come back the next morning for the sunrise.

These pictures tell our story.

It was wonderful to be back in a childhood memory with the man I love, but I constantly thought about our little girl.  It meant a lot to me to write her name in the sand at sunrise-- I never told Ben that that had been a goal of mine since we lost her.  Seeing the tide roll over the letters I wrote so lovingly was dangerously therapeutic.  I love her so much, and I know that, though water may destroy something we love, it also washes the sand clean.  

I think Eleanor would have liked the beach.  

Post-Natal Medical Check Up

Exactly 5 weeks after receiving the news of our daughter's death at my 26-week midwife appointment, I had my post-natal check up.

I was pretty anxious in waiting for this appointment.  I wanted to hear that my body was healing (healed), so we could "officially" move on and look to the future. We have even been adding to our family prayers that the appointment would go well, and that the midwife I'd see would be inspired to give us the best advice for having more children.  I specifically scheduled to be seen on a day when the midwife who delivered the terrible news to us originally, Waledah, would be in the office so she could see how well we are handling it, and how ok we are (she had been pretty shaken up to report a stillbirth to us.  It was the first their practice had seen, and everyone there was really upset about it.) When I was back in the exam room I heard that Waledah had called in sick, and was being covered by another midwife.  That midwife, Dierdre, told me exactly what I'd wanted and prayed so fervently to hear! (I wonder if Waledah asking for her shift to be covered by Dierdre was inspired by The Lord. Would Waledah have given me different advice, and He knew that wasn't best or intended for me?)


Dierdre also talked to me about our decision to not have an autopsy performed on Eleanor.  We have no physical evidence of what caused her stillbirth, which is something I explained we are satisfied with due to our spiritual understanding.  I told her I wasn't interested in obsessing over the "whys" and driving from specialist to specialist, but she explained that just a few blood tests could give us a lot of answers, or at least rule out some important options.

Since Eleanor is the first stillbirth they have experienced, they have never recommended these blood panels before.  Dierdre knew what she wanted to test, but not the codes or details, so she got on the phone with a blood specialist.  She explained to the nurse, Lora, who had to look up additional codes for my bloodwork papers from a specific test-indication book.  They sent me to the lab downstairs to get the blood drawn, who also had to call around to know exactly what to do! Hahahahaha... I really did think it was a funny sort of hub-bub to find myself in! I'm glad though, that they are building their repetoir of how to handle a situation like mine, and maybe if it occurs again they will all know exactly how to handle it because they could go through a trial run with me. Everyone in this practice knows and really cares about me, which is very obvious with how caring and thorough they always are in our meetings.  I feel really taken care of, which is so important!

She sent me downstairs to the hospital lab, who preceded to take about 15 vials of blood for about 6 different tests to rule out an immune disorder, thyroid, and lupus.

I just laughed when I saw her pull out all these different blood vials!

I won't post the picture of them filled with blood, but, boy, did I want to lay down when she was done!

I gave so much blood that they had to cover the spot with this heavy-duty bandage. 

It happens to be purple. 

I kept it on until I went to the post office.  The mailman actually asked if I was supporting something!

"Yes.  Donatello.  And giving blood."

The lab clinic had lots of beautiful puzzles framed on the wall, and this puzzle of Christ was hanging across from the blood-drawing chair.  I really loved seeing a picture of Christ in a public hospital! 

It was nice to remember Christ when going through something hard, and receiving some comfort in a hospital. No matter how much blood I gave, He gave more!

We'll have the results back sometime next week.  It would be great to rule out as much as possible to rest our minds for the next pregnancy, but, if something is found, that would be comforting, too, and very treatable!

So keep your fingers crossed... that the results are.... negative.... or.... positive.... whatever....

One Month Post-Natal Metal Check-Up

*Disclaimer: Recent posts have been very personal.  I know not everyone is comfortable with my decision to keep a public journal like this, but please understand that this is a very satisfying form of therapy.  If you feel uncomfortable with the emotion I share, I will not be offended if you pass this over! It makes me happy, so make yourself happy :) *

My dear friend, Jessica, experienced a 23-week stillbirth with her daughter shortly after I found out I was pregnant.  To be honest, her experience scared me.  Obviously.  Among other "sad stories" of friends' pregnancies, hers made me extremely concerned about the health and safety of my own baby.  In hindsight I'm glad I felt that way, because it prepared me for the hardship we faced.  I sort of expected it.  

I didn't talk to Jessica much during my pregnancy.  I felt awkward; I didn't know how to handle the situation.  I didn't want her to feel guilty or jealous, I didn't want to rub it in that I was pregnant and ecstatically happy, so I avoided her and chose not to handle the situation.  Well, she was one of the only people I called while I was in the hospital awaiting Eleanor's delivery.  I knew she knew, better than anyone, what I was going through, and that she would understand my folly and be there for me.  She was, and has been, every step of my understanding and grieving process.  

I felt really ok after everything happened. Unnaturally so, in fact.  I had (have) an amazing understanding of what happened and why, so I accepted our fate pretty easily.  Jessica told me that she had felt the same thing shortly after losing her daughter.  She was the one comforting other people! She said her saddness/ anger kicked in about a month later.  She says she literally woke up one day and felt angry.  Really angry.  All of a sudden.  Since I heard that I wondered if I would wake up and feel angry after one month.  

It's been a month.  So, how do I feel? Not really angry. Sort of angry, I guess, but mostly annoyed.  What this experience has taught me is how desperately I want to be a mother.  I won't get into the details, but that's what my complicated roller coaster of emotions and self-therapizing boil down to.  I really want a child.  A baby, even (I never really thought of El as a baby, usually as a teenager/ young adult, which is why I enjoy this self realization so much.)  

What I find extremely annoying and unfair is not that I lost a baby.  No, hers and our journey was meant to take a certain path, and it did.  We fulfilled everything we were asked to do for her, so there is no regret, bitterness, or guilt.  I don't necessarily want Eleanor, or my pregnancy with her, back.  What is unfair is that I have to go through another pregnancy just to get a baby! After we get a medical "ok" to even try for a baby, and after however long it takes to become pregnant! 

I have to go through another period of time when I worry about conceiving? Another weight-losing-heartwrenching-hormone-swinging first trimester? Another second trimester where my physical symptoms have gone away but it's still too early to feel the baby moving? For just one child I get to take home? 

I want a child.  I want to be pregnant because that is how you get a child.  But I am not excited about another pregnancy. The sad thing is that I had actually really loved being pregnant.  But I don't think I'll love it anymore.  Unfair and annoyed. 

And, yes, I did feel this way exactly one month after El's burial.  Like a light switch.  

But, hey, tomorrow's another day.  

Triplets

Two weeks after delivering Eleanor, my oldest sister gave birth to her triplets. I really love my sister, but our dual pregnancies was a challenge for me. She announced her surprise pregnancy when we were trying for a family, which was hard. The next month I was pregnant, and, while planning our announcement, received the phone call that Megan was expecting not one but three babies. I was suddenly too overwhelmed by her news to share my own with our family. Megan would need lots of support, help, and love to carry and mother triplets, and I felt guilty asking the family for any of the attention that should go to her. I had previously been so excited to share a pregnancy with my family (who had waited years for me to get married and decide to have a baby), but after her announcement I didn't want to say anything at all.

I got over that shock and learned to give my family more credit (of course there is enough love for as many children as come), but never did feel too comfortable hearing about my sister's trials and triumphs.  Shallow, I know. I admit, I just wanted the focus on me and my little one-- I thought she deserved that. When I talked to someone about my baby I would hear, "And your sister is having triplets... how is she?" Or if I shared my aches and pains the reply would be "But imagine how your sister feels with three babies in there!"

So, yes, I was jealous.

The fact that she had her babies so soon after ours passed away felt like an appropriate end to our experience. I had planned to go home to Columbia to help with her original three kids when she went to the hospital for her C-section, but no one expected it to be so soon. Two weeks after my delivery was a bit of a shock, which I had to get over FAST!

I believe the week I spent at home with her was very healing, thankfully. I think the realization that not all babies come home from the hospital helped her feel grateful and excited for parenting triplets. My Dad, whom I have hardly talked to in a decade, showed up and we had a great time together. I saw, held, and cared for three babies in the NICU.

Plus, my sister is healing well and all three babies are great.

Let me show you...

w.e.s.t.o.n.

4 lbs. 15 oz.

c.o.u.r.t.e.n.e.y.

4 lbs. 3 oz.

d.y.l.a.n.

3 lbs. 11 oz.

Dylan was the hardest of all for me to be around. She, more than the others, reminded me of Eleanor. She lost a few ounces after birth, and is just so small. She has scrawny little chicken elbows and knees, like Eleanor did, but I could see hers actually move through the plastic isolette. My tiny baby couldn't do that.  This tiny little baby just really shocked me... you know? 

Strangely, she is the healthiest of all three.  Weston and Courteney will be in the NICU for a few weeks on and off oxygen and other drugs, but Dylan was doing well enough from the beginning to never need oxygen, be placed in a less intensive room, and expect to come home much sooner.  Thus, she is the only one we are allowed to consistently hold out of her isolette and biliruben lighting. 

The first time I went to visit the babies I could only handle to stay for a few minutes.  The second time I came with Megan, who wanted to stay much longer  She took me to see Dylan, opened her isolette doors, and told me to reach in and touch her.  I couldn't.  Again, she told me touch her, so I gradually reached in.  I felt like Dylan was a ticking time bomb-- something that would explode if we had skin-to-skin contact. I started crying and shaking, which the nurses found endearing. They offered me a chair and tissues, but it took quit a while for me to settle down.  I never told anyone about my recent loss, I expect they just thought I was a very emotional aunt. 

I spent a week with the family in Columbia-- long enough to see Megan get home and comfortable-- and I will return when the babies come home from the hospital to help with the transition.  That will be another milestone to overcome, and I hope I handle it as well!

In the meantime, congratulations, Megan.  What an accomplishment!