Just Like the Birds, Baby

I have a lot of jokes about why I have so many kids: Yes, I know how this happened, but I've stopped borrowing my husband's toothbrush so this should be the last one! Why, yes, I am crazy. Every so often I just need six weeks off from work, and having a baby every two years totally does that for me. Every once in a while the house needs a good cleaning, and there's no better way to do it than by nesting.

That last joke, is really more true than funny.

I was starting to think Liam had kicked my OMG-WTF button so hard, that my Holy-Crap-I-need-to-get-the-house-ready-for-a-baby button might never be pushed. Today, I think he hit the nesting button. Finally!

I did laundry, cleaned the bathroom, helped my husband hang a new shelf/towel-rack-thingie in the bathroom, bought a push lawnmower, mowed some of the lawn, put up new clothesline, and so on.

I'm hoping that at soon I'll start feeling ready to get out baby stuff. I realized I haven't bought Liam one single thing and I think it's that I'm still afraid that if I do, I'll jinx it, and he'll never come home. I need to get over that. Soon. Besides, I know that the truth is that no one can protect themselves from hurting when their kids are at risk in any way. Even under the best case scenario, it's going to be hard just watching him go through surgery.

But at least for now, a lot is getting done. And I think it's made me tired enough that I'll actually sleep well tonight.

The Gift Of Birth

I have loved having my babies.  Really.  Through it all, it's been the most amazing gift I've had.  It's this moment where I become the mother of a tiny new human.  How cool is that?

For me, this has happened through the vaginal birth process.  TMI?  But whether it comes from a c-section, surrogacy, adoption, doorstep offerings, honestly, I could care less how it happens.  Because however a woman becomes a mother, it's something so incredible, it can hardly be described with words.

Liam's pregnancy has challenged how I think of my own birth experience.  This time, I'll be delivering via c-section, and will not experience it the way I have before.  And I think there's a certain amount of disappointment in that.  Probably because it's different.

So, my friend Dada was on a podcast today over at Birth Stories On Demand and it was so cool to hear her!  Living in Minnesota I haven't seen her in forever.  I'm so proud of the Mama she's become, and the way she talks about birth is how I feel about it too.  I'm so happy for her and both of her gorgeous babies.  Seriously, I kinda wanted to squee and hug her though the computer when I heard the podcast!

Bless Dada and Kelli's hearts.  They even mentioned Liam and me.  For anyone who gets here from the podcast, we have many reasons to hope.  Not only is Liam likely to live past birth, he may live a totally normal life.  And while I'm still scared, I know I'm lucky.  Because it looks like Liam's birth will bring a gift I won't have to give back.  I know how painful it is to leave the hospital empty handed, and my heart is with all the mamas who have empty arms and aching hearts today.

I know this post is a little disjointed, but then that's kind of how I've felt today.  Disjointed and odd, looking for comfort where I can find it.  

Oh, and Dada?  It's pronounced in-sef-a-luh-seal (encephalocele).  Love you!

Babies Should Come Home

Have you ever heard of Holoprosencephaly?  Triploidy?  Encephalocele?  Fetal Hydrops?  Amniotic Band Syndrome?  Anencephaly?  Trisomy 18?  

I have.  I've heard of all of these, and much more.  Once you've lost a baby, and you understand, stories come from everywhere.  For loss moms, or moms facing loss, this is something the world doesn't like to talk about.  Something people don't like to face.  Who can blame them?  In their world, babies come home, and to think they don't is to be terrified beyond words.  So, when one of us moms finds someone else who will talk to us, we can sometimes just unload.  After a while, loss moms don't just carry around the story of their own heartache, but a thousand others.  From a fatal prenatal diagnosis, to SIDS, we know someone, and we're connected to them.

The day Sarah died, my friend K. was walking out to the parking lot to meet her husband, when she saw an angry young teenage girl come in to be admitted into labor and delivery.  Her exact words were, "It's just not fucking fair."  And you know what?  It's not.  It's not fucking fair.  It's not fair that crack users can waltz into a hospital and give birth to a healthy baby while some of us are forcing down our prenatal vitamins over our morning sickness and doing everything right and we leave the hospital empty handed.  

It's not fair that some parents neglect and abuse their children, while some of us spent a month picking out the safest car seat or make sure we always pick the best way for our baby to sleep only to lose our little one to SIDS.

I know.  The world isn't fair.  Life isn't fair.  But I think it's fair to say that sometimes, when it's all overwhelming me a bit, I get angry.  I'm angry that it isn't fair.  I'm angry that I don't have three little girls sleeping together upstairs after fighting about who worked hardest to clean up the playroom.  I'm angry that Liam will have to have surgery when he should just be nursing in my arms.  I'm angry that so many loving and wonderful parents have to hurt so much.  And I'm furious that there's not a damn thing I can do to make it better.  You see, I'm a a mom.  That's what I do.  I make it better.  And when the only comfort I can give is a hug and a prayer, I get really mad.  Because scared, hurting, heartbroken mamas deserve so much more than that.  

I'm sorry this is not a very upbeat blog post.  My emotions tend to be a roller coaster during the most normal of pregnancies, which this is not.  So, right now I'm just kind of rolling around in the "It's not fucking fair".  

At some point I promise I'll get up, dust it off, and send that energy out into the universe as a prayer for healing and comfort.  But for now, I'm going to stew in it a bit until my fingers are pruney.  

Some Peace

Dreaming about things that make me anxious did not make my sleep restful. Thankfully, they seem to have stopped. Friday night, I had my last bad dream. In it I was eating with my parents at an outdoor taco stand in California, when my dentist called and informed me that tests had shown that my lower teeth were swollen. Seven of them, in front, would need to be removed, and a non-feeding tube would need to be inserted into my stomach. I was terrified and confused. In the dream I knew I would let her take my teeth, and I was powerless to stop it.

Saturday morning I was driving to work, listening to a guest on a radio show I listen to. He was a dream expert and reminded me of things I often forget. Like, I better than anyone, can analyze my dreams. I realized that there was something all of my weird pregnancy dreams have had in common. In them I'm frightened, overwhelmed, or I feel powerless. Even the dream about my teeth, has to do with my children. My mother used to say that in the old days in Britain, a woman could expect to lose a tooth with every child. Counting Sarah, this baby will be my seventh child.

Once I acknowledged that I'm nervous about having the baby early, and about being overwhelmed with the demands of parenting six children, the dreams seem to have lightened up. Something for which I am deeply grateful. Between restless legs, restless baby, and a restless bladder, my sleep is poor enough without the bad dreams.

Since then I've been enjoying my kids, enjoying what is left of my beautiful step-daughter's visit, and enjoying the wonderful foods coming out of my crock pot. Oh yes, I am deeply obsessed with my slow cooker, and my family is all the more well fed because of it.

I'm officially 33 weeks pregnant. My OB said I was "rapidly" moving through the third trimester. Oh, yes, he did say "rapidly". You can tell he's not trying to sleep with this baby at night. I'm sure it would feel far less "rapid" if he did. He's a great doctor, but it was a very amusing comment. Quinn was born at 35 weeks according to the doctors (I thought he might have been 34 weeks). So, I'm hoping that we have at least a few more weeks to go so that I can keep him in long enough to come home with me. I really like it when my babies come home with me.

30 Weeks 5 Days

I am huge. Huge and uncomfortable. I'd like to keep working out, but that gives me Braxton Hicks contractions, so I've had to stop. Sprout has had a growth spurt and I can definitely tell. So can my back, my sciatic nerve, and the waddle I'm trying desperately to stop.

On top of the physical changes, I've had an emotional shift. I think it started a few days ago when I was entertaining the feeling of relief that I'm at a point in my pregnancy where, if something went wrong, the baby would need medical care, but would survive. Then it hit me: All the stories of loss moms who went full term and had losses. The moms who sat around at 30 weeks, like me, preparing to take their babies home, but had to hand them over after birth and go home with empty arms. I was so overwhelmed with the I'm-not-out-of-the-woods-yet sensation, and I don't think I've completely shaken it. I wonder if I could ever again have a pregnancy without some sense of possible doom. The idea that being pregnant means I'll take home a baby is something else that HPE took from me.

It's hard for an introspective person like me not to be introspective while pregnant. Pregnancy naturally takes one inside of themselves as you focus on your body and how it's changing to accommodate a new life. It's hard not to daydream about the new baby and how it will fit in to our family. But I'm trying. I'm not watching baby shows, I'm not currently reading any books about pregnancy or birth, and I'm trying to spend my time with my family, taking care of my home, and engaging in activities that get my mind out of myself.

So, color me surprised when I had dream after dream after dream last night about giving birth. In one dream I couldn't remember giving birth at all, and Dominic wouldn't tell me what happened. In another, I couldn't seem to get labor to become painful and I worried that the baby would never come out. In yet another, I gave birth so fast that I didn't feel I'd really done it. Yes, I gave birth repeatedly last night. And in the dreams were odd details. I wanted to go out to lunch with a specific friend, but Dominic thought it was a bad idea to leave the hospital. I moved cars in that dream instead. Why on earth would I move cars? I was walking to increase contractions in another. In one, various people kept coming to my labor room to visit. California friends and family who couldn't possibly come to the hospital in Minnesota! While I did dream that Sprout was full term and latching on well to nurse (talk about a detailed dream!) it was all very bizarre.

So, this morning I was well slept, but not well rested. I'd been giving birth all night long! Tomorrow I won't be able to catch up on any rest. I'm working. But at least I've done a lot of laundry today. I think laundry stalks me. I wash it, fold it, put it away, and it comes right back again. It might be out to get me.

Here's to a night with no birth or baby dreams. Here's praying for a night filled with dreams of Carribean beaches, clear blue water, and a good masseuse. Waking up from a vacation dream sounds lovely.

It's A Baby!

After losing a baby to Holoprosencephaly (Sarah also had an encephalocele, severe hydrocephalus, a meningocele, and a number of other conditions which, when combined, made her prognosis terminal), I find The Big Ultrasound both exciting and terrifying. I have had wonderful ultrasound techs who, understanding my fear, have immediately shown me my babies' brains and made it clear that they were healthy. This baby has a gorgeous little brain. Two, well defined hemispheres, a cerebelum, everything exactly where it should have been. After seeing that, I was able to relax and enjoy my peek at our new baby.

The girls came with me, excited to watch. They were very good, sitting nicely while the ultrasound tech pointed out various parts of the baby, who measured right on time.

There were cute things, like feet:
Arms with hands at the end, that usually liked to stay right up by baby's face:
But the girls were far more interested in whether or not they would have a baby sister this fall:

As you may be able to tell by looking inside the circle, and at the caption at the bottom, they were sadly disappointed. I, however, am not. I'm perfectly happy with a well developed brain, a four chambered heart that's pumping as it should, functioning kidneys, and a number of other physical indicators that this baby will likely be the kind we take home.

After the ultrasound we bought some chocolate zucchini bread, came home and had lunch with friends, did some gardening, and are basically enjoying our day. Learning about how ultrasounds work counts as homeschooling, right?

I Had A Birth Dream

I think I've spent a lot of my pregnancy this time around, convincing myself and everyone around me that this one is different.  I have the understanding that bad things can happen, therefore the appreciation for everything going well.  And since this isn't my first pregnancy after a loss, I was not going to face the stress that was my pregnancy with Ciaran.

What I didn't tell people was that my first trimester may not have felt too sickly, but did feel like a nearly 3 month long anxiety attack.  That's the only way to describe it.  It felt like I did when I ditched school for the day and I knew they'd called my parents, and I was going to be in trouble when I got home.  It was that sense of impending doom that I couldn't shake no matter how hard I tried. I really think I expected something to go wrong, no matter what I told myself or others.

Really though, this has been a beautiful pregnancy.  This baby has never given me a moment of concern.  I've grown well and enjoyed the changes.  I like that I can wear cute clothes and I didn't have to get thin first.  I've enjoyed the baby's kicks, rolls, pokes, and the excitement in my older children.  It's been fun.

But I've also noticed that I don't feel like the baby is real, or is coming.  Bonding has been difficult.  So I was really happy the other night when I finally had a pregnancy dream that was actually about this baby.  I dreamed I was giving birth.  I used all my Bradley techniques and was having to concentrate, but it wasn't bad or scary.  The baby came out quickly with little help from me, and was absolutely perfect.  Another girl.  I was so happy to see her, and wanted her close to me.  It was the first time I realized that this baby really is coming and it's okay.  No, there are no guarantees, and no matter what I tell myself there will always be some fear.  But this baby is fine.  I'm fine.  And, while I have concerns about timing (six weeks off of work right around Christmas is a little stressful) God has a plan for us and will work it out.

I'm finally feeling some peace.  And all because of a dream.



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Now playing: Máire Brennan - Perfect Time
via FoxyTunes

Baby Ciaran Makes His Debut

 

Well, as I posted earlier, my water broke yesterday morning just before 11.  I called my doctor and called Dominic at work, and began about the work of getting ready to go.

Oddly enough, I had a feeling he was coming soon, and had really started preparing the house for his arrival. 

Dominic thought it was a joke when a co-worker told him to go get the phone because my water had broken.  People rushed to take part in the office pool that was predicting our due date and time. 

By 2 p.m. I had finished packing everyone, fed the kids lunch, bathed the kids, bathed myself  dropped the kids off at MNFiddledragon and Ladysea's house and were on our way to the hospital. 

At the hospital, they confirmed that my water had broken.  That's always kind of a "duh" to me, because I showed up with a gigantic pad FULL of fluid.  But it didn't take long and I was admitted.

I was told that I had tested positive at my last appointment for group B strep and would need to be on antibiotics.  So much for no IV, but especially with Ciaran being a bit pre-term, I was all for it.  We also started pitocin.  I know that I could have taken a lot more time to get things going on my own, but my priorities just changed once I was there.  I wanted to see him, hold him.  I wanted him out.  The antibiotics burned in the IV.  During the worst part of labor, I had another dose of them.  Since my brain could only process one painful thing at a time, it would alternate between the arm pain and the contraction pain.  Fun, huh?

Dominic was incredible, coaching me through contractions, rubbing my back, and taking care of me.  I made it to almost 4 cm without anything.  Then the contractions were getting really hard to stay on top of.  So, I took an epidural.  The epidural was great.  It didn't numb me to my toes and the contractions didn't hurt anymore.  I could even move my legs and body without difficulty.  But that didn't last either.  At around 7 cm, Ciaran moved so far down, the epidural didn't work at all.  I could feel everything.  Every contraction, every time his head moved, putting pressure on my cervix.  It started out painful, and over time became completely unbearable.

Then I got the urge to push.  The nurse said I was at 9 cm and perhaps the last little bit of cervix could be pushed away, allowing for the baby to come through.  But it wouldn't move, and they didn't want to risk a laceration.  So, wait I did.  And not well.

I was positioned on my side and given oxygen.  When the contractions would come, it was terrible, as I was unable to get into a comfortable position for pushing.  Ciaran had a deceleration in his heartrate, and they decided to put an electrode on his head to monitor him internally.  So, during contractions, while on my side trying not to push, I have a hand inside of me trying to put the thing on his head.

This is when I totally lost it.

They wouldn't let me move.  I was nauseous, and I couldn't push.  I was yelling during the contractions.  I was telling the nurse no, and was basically having breakdowns during the contractions, and apologizing between them.  There is little control that the laboring woman has.  And what there was, was taken away from me.  I didn't deal well.

Finally they let me lie down on my back with the back up in a sitting position, and pull my knees up to push.  Much better.  With two pushes his head was out.  I felt the ring of fire, and pushed through it.  Then it was all over, and he was there in my arms.  At 12:01 am.  6 lbs. 2 oz.  19 inches long.

I was not a perfect laboring woman.  Toward the end I was more like a caged wild animal.  Dominic, however, was a perfect husband and coach.  It would have been so much harder without his comforting presence, and amazing help.  And, of course, Ciaran did great.

I had a great nurse all afternoon, whom I can't thank enough.  And my nurse when Ciaran was born was my night nurse the night that we lost Sarah.  It was wonderful to share our joy with her, though I do wish I had been nicer at the end.  I wasn't mean or cursing, just not friendly or myself. 

Today God reminded me that He has a plan for everything.  He brought friends into my life who could watch our kids.  He gave me friends who've understood my lack of sociability lately.  He gave me this perfect, beautiful baby boy, who has already stolen my heart.

While I actually consider my birth a bit traumatic, and not what I had pictured for myself, I am grateful for a healthy birth, and the truth of it-hurts-now-or-it-hurts-later, as I'm not having a painful recovery. 

Pictures will be posted as soon as we are home and I can upload them to the computer.

For now, I have access to the guest wireless network here at the hospital, and will be updating frequently.

Ciaran is getting his first bath right now, and hopefully he'll wake up enough to nurse.  He hasn't wanted to nurse yet, as he's been so sleepy.  Though, of course, he's being given the opportunity frequently.

I can't wait to share his pictures.  How someone so tiny can take your breath away and steal your heart so quickly is another miracle in and of itself.

Not Myself

I haven't been myself lately.

I've felt very strange the last 2 days in particular.

My water broke this morning.

Pray for an easy labor.

Another Night Trying To Sleep

Last night I took the Ambien for a second night.

I slept.  But I still woke up multiple times, and I still had anxiety dreams.  At least this time it wasn't nightmares, just anxiety dreams.

Off to work this evening.  I need to get in what days I can over the next two weeks.  Just 2 1/2more weeks until Ciaran is considered full-term!

Nine Months In Heaven

I've been thinking about Sarah's birthday a lot lately.

Maybe it's been the numerous trips to labor and delivery for management of contractions. Maybe it's that they actually put me in the room that she was born in for one of those trips. Maybe it's that the pain of that day is finally lessening enough to allow me to think of it without wishing I could tear my own heart out.

Whatever it is I've been thinking about it a lot. I've been picturing her tiny body in my mind, and trying desperately to hold on to the weight of her in my hands, and the feel of her skin. She was so warm right after she was born, and every feature was so completely perfect.

Now here we are, nine months later, counting down the days until Ciaran is born. But it really hasn't made me miss Sarah any less. Of course, now I can talk about her without bursting into tears. Now I can picture her in my head and smile.

When I think about it, life just seems so crazy. Ups and downs, and highs and lows. This year we had to give one of our greatest gifts back to the Giver. But then we turned around and were blessed by this little man who's kicking me and making me have to pee all the time.

To say that I'm one big emotional contradiction is putting it mildly.

Thank you to each person who has kept going with me down this crazy path. It hasn't been easy. But the support I've gotten through my blog has been incredible. May Sarah pray for each of you. And may she pray for Ciaran, that he makes it safely into the world.

Mommy still misses you, Sarah. You may not be here, but you are still with me.

Mom's Night Out

Last night I was invited to a friend's house for a "Mom's Night". Children were totally acceptable, but I was able to leave mine at home and go all by myself. It was wonderful! We talked for hours and hours about life, the universe, all the geeky things I'm interested in, and so much more. I was there until almost 12:30 am!

It felt so good to get out of the house and go talk to grown-ups. But I have to say, with five hours of sleep, I'm completely exhausted today. Dominic was up at 7 to go to work, and the kids were up with him needing to be fed, watered, and changed. Then I had a 9:45 doctors appointment. The OB's office is always a blast with three kids, right?

Monday I was back in Labor and Delivery for management of contractions, so I'm back on Terbutaline, but at least only as needed. And I haven't needed it for the last two days, so I'm happy.

Yesterday I had my last ultrasound at the perinatologists office. Apperantly they were concerned because at one u/s he measured a week ahead of schedule, and then at the next one he measured 2 weeks ahead of schedule. His growth appears to have stabalized and he's still 2 weeks ahead. He is over 5 pounds now, and appears very healthy, so if he's born early he should be okay. And his size explains why I'm so uncomfortable most of the time.

Here are my 3D face shots from the u/s!

And my favorite:

You can see that the umbilical cord is floating around his face. But this is the closest I've ever come to really looking at the face of my child before birth. It was so amazing. I can't wait to meet him.

Reagan is also getting impatient for his little brother and informed me that he didn't think he could wait anymore. I just about jumped out of my skin. HE can't wait anymore? Is he the one who can't sleep? Is he the one being poked in uncomfortable places? No! But I pulled myself back, remembering that he's eight, and that for him pregnancy must seem an eternity. It does to me and I'm 20 years older! I reminded him that we're all excited to meet Ciaran and that we'd just have to be patient.

Well, off to treat my raging headache and feed the kids!

Motivational Difficulties

I've been meaning to blog for two weeks. I have pictures to share of the kids from Halloween, and Sarah's marker from Dia de los Meurtos. But the one time I had both time and motivation to work on getting the pictures of out the camera and put on my blog, my computer ate the pictures.

Since then I've had neither time nor motivation.

A friend of mine compared having a blog to a dog. You promise with a dog, to feed it, give it water, walk it, and generally take care of it. With a blog you agree to post often. Thank goodness my blog isn't a living creature, or much like my plants it would have wilted and died from lack of attention by now.

With school we're continuing on in the study of all our basic subjects, and we're "touring" India at the moment. Reagan has had a good time exploring this website which shares cities and stories from India. I'd also like Reagan to learn some basics about Hinduism and perhaps try some Indian food. We'll see!

Piper is improving in her speech daily. She's even taken to repeating knock knock jokes, which I think are the worst invention ever, but still sound cute coming from a three year old.

Bridget has no problems walking now. She's off and going, and doing great. She's adding to her limited vocabulary and is always surprising us.

Ciaran is also growing bigger every day, and I'm becoming much more uncomfortable. I don't know if this is just what happens in each subsequent pregnancy, or if it's just me. Really, I've been pregnant for a year now, with only a few weeks off. And when you gestate like an elephant, it's easy to lose patience.

Still, I have knees and elbows and feet poking and stretching every which way and I have no idea how he's supposed to grow in there for another 8 weeks. I know patience is a virtue, but not one that I was blessed with a lot of. I do love to feel him moving though.

Work situations continue to be unstable. I can't go into a lot of detail, because I never want Dominic to get in trouble for anything I write on my blog, but prayers are much appreciated. I can always go to work full-time if necessary. But with the kids and school, obviously that's not what we'd like to have happen.

Generally life continues on with a super tired mom, an incredibly hard working and wonderful dad, and some fantastic kids that I would trade for a bushel of ducks.

A Pregnancy Picture

By popular request, okay maybe not that popular, I'm posting a pregnancy picture of myself.


This is about 28 weeks along. So, one can imagine how big I am by 36+ weeks! Still, though my stretch marks are clear, my skin has been good, and my hair is growing like crazy. I long to get back into skirts, because pregnancy pants don't like to stay up. But I have no more skirts that fit.

Just for today I am healthy and pregnant, and I'm going to enjoy it. Even if tonight I get in bed and do nothing but worry!

Baby Ciaran

At my perinatologist's appointment on Wednesday, I got a little 4D look at Ciaran. Of course, he simply refused to move his arm. So this is the look I got.


I could really see him. I could see his ear, his cheek, his little fist and arm. I wanted to reach into the picture and pick him up, move his little arm and kiss him. Honestly, I love this child so much, I could just eat him up!

I wonder if all mothers think that?

Anyway. By my calculations I should be 28 weeks pregnant today. By my doctors calculations I should be 29 weeks pregnant today. By Ciaran's measurements, he's just over 30 weeks today. He's just growing and growing and growing. I'm a little afraid of birthing him at this point!

Still, nothing could be better than seeing him grow big and strong inside of me, and knowing that he's okay. God willing he will be part of our family in just a few more weeks.

Update On Baby Boy

Okay. It seems that baby's name has been leaked all over the place. And considering how sick to death I am of calling him "baby" or the "boy", I think I'm going to reveal his name.

Drumroll please....

Ciaran Elessar Basso

Now, Ciaran is pronounced with a hard C. It's pronounced "Kee-ruhn" and has basically been our boy's name for as long as we've been thinking of names. With three girls in a row, this is obviously our first chance to use it!

So. On to the update!

Ciaran appears to be doing well. His heartrate is good and he's VERY active and seems strong. The doctor isn't sure why I had the bleeding/spotting, but he doesn't think it came from Ciaran. So, he decided I could have another ultrasound.

He also said I could come back in two weeks for another appointment. Or I could start coming every week to hear the heartbeat if it made me feel better. I'm so grateful. He's been very kind and understanding through this pregnancy. I think that's one of the pro's of remaining with the doctor who saw you through a loss. They KNOW what you went through.

Ciaran thinks I am a punching bag, and the more I type, the more active he becomes.

I really love this little boy!

Labor And Delivery Again

I ended up in L&D again last night. I had a large amount of spotting and became concerned. Especially since bleeding was the first sign that anything was wrong with Sarah.

My nurse was one of my nurse's from Sarah's birth, and it was good to visit with her. I learned that the nurse who had originally called Sarah a shooting star has experienced great tragedy of her own. Two of her children (21 & 15 years old) were killed in a car accident, and she's currently not working. I just know, because of the person that she is, that people are taking care of her. My nurse told me she's been an inspiration of strength. Still, I wish I could give her even a glimmer of the comfort and kindness she offered me.

Today is gloomy and chilly. I found that I'm actually dreading Winter. On one hand, I should be excited. Baby will be here. But it's also the time when we lost Sarah. And I'm afraid of having this baby at the same time.

I know I've mentioned that pregnancy after a loss offers a whole new set of challenges. But I'm still struck by just how much of a challenge it is. I now feel like I'm trudging through every day, just trying not to let my fear get the best of me. Thank goodness, God is faithful.

Tomorrow I'll see my doctor, and hopefully he can tell me why I'm still spotting. Hopefully he'll set my mind at ease. Still, I'm not sure if I should be praying for baby, or my own mind.

He's such a good boy. Every time I'd get scared last night, he'd roll over and kick me someplace ticklish. Actually, he's doing that right now.

Paranoia Sets In

Well, I went to my doctor's appointment this afternoon. But the doctor was gone. He was out on a delivery. I had hoped he would check me and set my mind at ease that I wasn't leaking amniotic fluid. Which I figured I wasn't, but since I know 1000 ways to lose your baby, I just wanted a little peace of mind.

So, they sent me to labor and delivery instead. I hadn't been there since Sarah died. It was really hard to be in that hospital. My nurse was wonderful. I'd had her when I was treated for pre-term labor with Bridget. She totally understood my nerves and was incredibly helpful at calming them.

Sure enough, it wasn't my water. Baby is active and healthy and just fine in there. And they expect to see me back in about 10 to 12 weeks. I'll be there. With bells on!

I suppose I was overdue to really worry about something.

Sarah's Marker Is Finally In

Well, I finally called the funeral home at the beginning of last week to ask about Sarah's marker. They informed me that there'd been some sort of shipping error, and that's why it was taking so long. Then they called back and told me that it would be there by Wednesday and placed by the weekend. Well, the weekend came with still no marker placed. So, I called yesterday, and they told me it would be placed in the evening. And, finally, it was actually placed, and Dominic received a call apologizing for the delay.

So, today I found her flowers, a pinwheel, and a little scarecrow to do her up for the Fall. I'll have to find something tall and colorful for Winter. But she's all set for the Autumn.

Here are the pics!


Here I added both the Rosary that our friend Katy gave us (thank you, Katie. I can't say how many times I've found comfort with that Rosary) and our SareBear which Sara's Smile sent to us (another object of comfort that I held many nights when I missed my baby girl). I guess the marker company wasn't able to include the baby angel and the lamb at the bottom because of all the lettering we wanted. I kinda wish it was there, but Dominic loves it plain. And I'll keep it looking spiffy!



Here's a picture without the extras (which I could never leave behind). Of course I'll be on the lookout for other sweet knick-knacks I can decorate her place with. I'm thinking of getting some of those little paintable animals from Walmart and painting them for her. Maybe her brother and sister would like to help with that.


This is her spot in relation to the nearby bench. We liked the idea of her being close to the bench so that we could sit and talk to her. Her poor neighbor. I fix his pinwheel every time I go, but it always falls down. I think of my best friend and how she had to leave her precious baby in Colorado. I wonder if I could offer to do upkeep on some of the babies whose parents can't come in to do it themselves. I'd be happy to polish other markers or trim the grass around the edges.



This is the statue in the middle of the garden. Sarah is to the right of this statue. The words inscribed read:

This my heart well understands
The Children asleep in all God's lands
Are holy flowers
In angel hands

It's quite lovely, really. I'm not looking forward to her sweet marker being all covered up by snow! But I'm so happy it's there now.

I realized a few days ago that I'd stopped worrying that someone would take the spot next to Sarah's. I wanted it, in case we needed it again. I think it was another step closer to accepting the idea that this baby will come home with us.

Pregnancy After A Loss

I got the question from Rachel in a comment on another post about how I was brave enough to jump into another pregnancy right away. Well, to be honest, I didn't think about it. I was so devastated to be without Sarah. So filled with feelings of failure, doubt, grief, and longing, I couldn't think of anything better to do. It was the right choice for me. If I weren't pregnant now, I'd be wondering if I could get pregnant, and (though I don't miss Sarah any less) I'd be missing Sarah all the time. Only looking back, not looking forward.

I also need to be honest. Pregnancy after a loss is making me loopy. I'm conflicted on just about everything. I have twenty different feelings and none of them make sense. It's left me very unsure of myself.

I wanted a girl. Despite knowing that another baby cannot replace Sarah, I think I still wanted to try. I had the image in my head of my little stair-stepped girls, singing in a trio for my mom. I don't like that he's a boy because that means he's not Sarah. But then I really do. I loved having a baby boy. And it's good that he's a boy. It really helps me to separate them in my head. I'm not just continuing on with Sarah's pregnancy. This is a totally new and separate baby.

I don't think he's coming home with me. Much like having my first baby, and not being able to imagine being someones mother, I'm having trouble visualizing a healthy birth and a baby to bring home. If I get my hopes up, the worst might happen. And I'd be devastated. Because I love him already.

I resent this baby. I resent him for not being Sarah. Because I miss her, love her, and want her so much to be with me. But I love him! I love that he's exactly who he is! It's not his fault he's not Sarah. And I don't want him to be anyone but who he is! I want them both, healthy, and with me.

I'm afraid to love him too much. Afraid that I'll be ripped apart again if anything happened, and I can't stand to hurt that much again. But at the same time I can't help but love him, and if I were to lose him tomorrow, none of this preventative worrying I've done would stem the tide of grief in the slightest.

I'm tired all the time. But I don't sleep well. I want him to kick all the time, and he doesn't kick enough. Though he kicks a heck of a lot more than Sarah did, and he always kicks me when I get scared. But it's like, if he's not kicking, then I'm always scared! I'm an emotional wreck. I cry all the time. Mostly for no reason. Everything hurts so much. When I'm at home I think I should be working to make money and help the family. When I'm at work, I want to be at home with Dominic and the kids.

Dominic has been working so hard taking overtime, he deserves a medal. I couldn't be more proud of the man who takes such good care of me and his family. But I don't know what kind of wife I've been lately. I can't seem to pull myself outside of my own body. My thoughts, feelings, etc. are all wrapped up in my uterus and what it's doing from minute to minute.

In short, I think I'm crazy. Not only am I pregnancy crazy, I'm pregnancy after a loss crazy. And that's really really crazy.

I wouldn't trade this baby for anything. Nothing makes me happier than the thought that I really might one day hold him in my arms. But is it easy? No. It's really not. And I needed to devote a little blog space to it. Because sometimes I try way too hard to put on the "everything's okay here" face. And I don't know who reads my blog. If there's someone else out there who is going through pregnancy after a loss, or thinking about it, I want to be honest.

The book Pregnancy After a Loss by Carol Cirulli Lanham has been a lifesaver. It does let me know that my insanity is actually pretty sane.

And, oddly, even with all this kookiness in my head, I really am enjoying every tiny change, and every second of this pregnancy. I wouldn't have it any other way.