When the dam breaks

What a complicated thing, grief.

After my shower this morning I combed through my hair...a bunch of strands pulled out.  (Why must this continue?)

Church was like any other today, we hurriedly arrived, found our seats, business as usual.  

The first Sunday of the month is known as Fast Sunday, and anyone in the congregation can speak and bear witness of Christ and share their personal testimonies.  Traditionally Fast Sunday, is also the day baby blessings are performed at church.  

Since Lainey has been gone, we've been in attendance for multiple baby blessings.  I believe the first one was particularly difficult for Rick.  It was okay for me, I was somewhat still in a fog and I believe the blessing was for a baby boy.  

Here we are in November and there was a baby to be blessed, A baby girl.  The blessing started, she started screaming during her blessing.  I had warm fuzzy feelings about it, thought it was a sweet blessing.  The blessing ended and the minute the baby was no longer laying back, but sitting up in her Daddy's arms she was silent and happy.  The entire congregation had such a huge chuckle!  

The person conducting our meeting said, "That reminds me of my wedding day, my soon to be wife crying...I kept telling her, it's okay, it's only forever..."  We all laughed.  I felt good.  

We prepared for taking the bread and water by singing a song and out of nowhere the tears fell.  They weren't just little hidden tears, it was a gush.  An event that robs your breath and produces an ugly cry.  Fighting the urge to loudly sob, I tried to get hold of myself.  I tried to calm down, only I couldn't breathe.  We were well into the second verse of the song, and I weighed getting up verses remaining in my seat.  I thought about the song soon ending, there would be nothing to hide my quite sobs  and sniffles.  At times choking back little sobs, I finally looked to Lexie (who was confused) and I said to her, "I think I need to step out".  She replied, "Yes, you do".  

Before the song ended, I told the girls :I am going to step out", only I could not stop the tears.  So, I stood with my red cry face, puffy watery eyes and faced the majority of the congregation to walk out of the meeting, knowing half of the congregation could see me.  I got myself to the nearest bathroom and I cried as quietly as possible.  It wouldn't stop.  I was somewhat hyperventilating.  

Eventually I was in a position where I could leave the bathroom to sit in a different room in the church building.  I sat alone in the dark and I listened to sweet testimonies.  I was so pleased to recognize those speaking, just by hearing their voices.  

One at a time 4 women found me and offered me a hug and love.  Which brought about the water works.  I told them, "I trust Heavenly Father's plan, I accept his will, it's stupid to be so upset".  

The loved me, told me that they couldn't understand how difficult...said all the right things.  We then quietly listened to people speaking and eventually they went back to their seats.  One person stayed and held on to me and said, "I feel prompted to tell you that Heavenly Father loves you and he is proud of you".  (Cue crying) 

I'm so grateful he sent a person to deliver his message. I told her, "I don't get it, I've been through other baby blessings"  She replied, "Maybe it's because the baby is a bit older"  I agreed, "yes, I had noticed that".  Then we talked about how the baby was blessed by a member of our congregation, not her father.  We hope the parents will raise her in the church, but you can't tell and don't know.  

It was just all around hard.  

Soon sacrament meeting ended, and I had to walk into the crowd to get to class.  People could see me, they were asking what's wrong and I kept walking saying, "I'm just having a moment".  If I were pressed I would start to cry a bit harder.  All during Sunday School I struggled to keep my composure, twice someone reached out to me and rubbed my arm.  I was grateful for loving friends.  

I had managed to get through Ricky's 22nd birthday on Tuesday, with no tears, I really had a good day, despite it being 22 years since I've held my son.  Lainey's day is only two weeks away.  I am do it, I can get through it, I can do hard things.  

Such an unexpected difficult day, filled with tears.  In some ways it just shows I'm human.  It shows the deep love and sorrow I have for my kids.  It's absolutely exhausting.

#lovefromlainey

Inspired by my daughter in Heaven and my caring bridge website Love for Lainey I've found a way to honor Lainey, this her first birthday in Heaven.

I've been told her story was inspiring, that through my words many people were touched by her short innocent life.  As our family continues to grieve her loss I continuously find ways to promote healing and acceptance.

Acceptance, in that we appreciate God's gift of Lainey to us and that we accept his will for her and our family.  More importantly acceptance in that it is okay to talk about your loved one, even an infant, who has passed.

During the month of November our family will share random acts of kindness in Lainey's honor.
I've printed a note I plan attach.

LOVE FROM LAINEY

Lainey passed away in November 2014 just before delivery due to 

complications associated with Trisomy 18.

Our family wants to remember Lainey with random acts of kindness during the month of November!

In honor of Lainey please accept this gift!  If you feel inspired please share a gift in her memory

 and tell us about it!

To learn more about Lainey: http://www.caringbridge.org/visit/loveforlainey

To share your experience: #lovefromlainey

Or email us at lovefromlainey@gmail.com

These gifts will not be expensive, or elaborate, and some may not include a note.  By adding a note, it is our hope that a recipient or giver will share their experience.  This would mean so much to our family, especially our girls.  It will show them that when we give to others we are truly the ones who receive.  It will show them that Lainey matters, that she is loved.  

Our gifts will include:  A visit with a neighbor, cookies to a family, cash taped to food items in a grocery store, maybe coins taped to a vending machine, buying someone's meal in line behind you at the drive through...we'd welcome ideas!!!  

Also donations may be made in Lainey's honor to any of the listed organizations.  Each of them were founded by parents mourning the loss of their infant, each of them continue to keep the memory of their own baby's alive by giving so much of themselves and mailing special packages to families facing loss.  We received gifts from all four organizations and they mean the world to us!  

Molly Bears send weighted bears, Held your whole life send hand stamped necklaces and key chains, Hopes Healing Hearts send weighted hearts, the exact weight of your baby and Robby's Rabbits sends a stuffed animal to hold.  

Molly Bears

Held Your Whole Life

Hope's Healing Hearts 

Robbys Rabbits 

I hope to donate preemie outfits to our local hospital.  Lainey came a few weeks early and she was so very tiny, the clothes we had for her did not fit. She was dressed in clothing donated to the NICU at our local hospital.  We were able to take home two little outfits she wore.  (I may not be strong enough to shop for these items this year, but one day!)  

A smile, card, a phone call to someone you've not talked to in awhile, are all great ways to give and they are virtually free.  Please join us if you can!  So excited to hear about the love and service performed in honor of Lainey!

Wallow

I haven't been posting, though I need to write.  I can't totally confess to wallowing, but I have my moments.  I feel like people get tired of those moments, so they are usually kept private.

Someone tried to hand me a baby shower invitation a few weeks ago, I hesitated in taking it.  I got the impression (or maybe it was even stated) you've got to start (doing this) sometime.  I took the invitation knowing I would not be in attendance.  Certainly not for a shower before a baby is born. There is no guarantee.

I want to say I've been feeling better, but there is this underlying little black rain cloud hanging around.  I really try not to dwell on the past, I am still in that rut, that postpartum rut. I find little satisfaction in things right now.  Overall loneliness and depression.

I still think most would be surprised by this as I still joke and have fun...it's those quiet moments, alone time in the car, inability to accomplish tasks, little desire to do so.

I saw online where a popular actress was seeking treatment for postpartum, her baby is 10 months old.  Validation I'm not crazy, that it is real and that I haven't been delivered from it yet.

The 11th month mark came and went, I didn't acknowledge it to anyone, as I said people grow tired of hearing it.  Yet part of me is dying, 11 months since I've held my girl? 11 months away from her.

October 1st hit and I had this slight panic attack, it was the month before November.  The month before November arrived!  November is the month we lost Lainey.

My birthday is coming up, I just don't want any acknowledgement of it, I don't want well wishes.  If anyone understood what' I've been through they would understand it's not the great celebratory day they think.

See how miserable I am?  I'm just not through the postpartum yet.

The land of what ifs...

I am really proud that I have not allowed myself to live in the land of "what ifs".   I've learned so much since the last time I was in this position.  It takes a conscience effort to not dwell in the past.

Yes, I've done very well.  Honestly you have no idea how well.

For a moment I want to write about it, I want to go there...I want to be write about my unfulfilled wishes.

Why, why couldn't she be born alive?

Why couldn't we see her open her eyes?
Why couldn't we hear her voice?
Why couldn't we have her even if for only a few moments?
I wanted my family to see her alive, why couldn't we see her alive?

We only had her 7 weeks and 3 days, why couldn't we have her longer?
I got cheated out of enjoying my pregnancy, feeling her move.
I didn't even know she existed until she was almost gone.

If I would have realized she wouldn't have lived, I would have recorded her alive in a sonogram so I could watch her move.

Why did I have to do this twice?

Why do other trisomy 18 babies live?

Why do I have to suffer postpartum?

Why the hair loss, the weight gain...for no baby?
Why not give me a break?  If I have to give her back (which I willingly did) can't you let the weight just fall off?

Why do people abandon their babies when I would have done anything to keep mine?

I should be preparing for a first birthday, and a second Christmas.
Smokey should be laying at the base of Lainey's cradle watching over her.

There should be diapers to change, blankets to wash, a baby girl to bathe.

It makes me so mad that God thinks I can handle this again.
It makes me worry that the loss of my sweet babies is in preparation for a greater loss.
What could be greater?

I've buried two children, I do not want to bury any more.

Sometimes I want to be angry with God.  I may allow it for a split second, but the spirit helps me reel those feelings back in almost as soon as they are cast out.

These moment are ever so brief, I just don't allow them.  If I did, they could destroy me, my progress and my family.

On this day last year

 Reading this I'm numb, what a hard thing to go through, how did we ever get through this past year? 

More than just a broken heart

By dottie liptrap — Oct 7, 2014 7:58am

Yesterday was a day of all answers, it is the worst case scenario.

The echo cardiogram told us Lainey did indeed have a genetic heart defect called Hypoplastic Left Heart Syndrome.   Dr. Amanda Cook basically explained there were treatment options available if Lainey was an otherwise healthy baby, meaning if she did not have additional chromosomes.  

Those treatments are:
1.  Surgery within the first 3 to 5 days of life.
2.  A second surgery within 3 to 5 months of life.
3.  A third surgery within 3 to 5 years of life.
4.  A total heart transplant in the teenage years.

Dr. Cook then explained that if Lainey had Trisomy 18 (a 3rd Trisomy 18 Chromosome)  surgery would not be offered.  Given what is known about Trisomy 18, medically speaking surgery would not change the eventual outcome and would put a baby through unnecessary suffering.  

Dr. Cook mentioned the findings of Lainey's right arm, then possible suggestion the left hand was cupped, and having this sort of heart defect all point to signs that Lainey may have Trisomy 18. 
 
She of course said all the "I'm so sorry, please call if you have more questions..."  and I went to the car and cried.  

When I got home I had a missed call from our Genetic Counselor Jean St. John.  I knew she had the results of the cell free DNA test I had done last week.  

I called her back and she asked about my appointment with the Echo, I told her:

"Well, I didn't get good news from them, and I am not expecting to get good news from you either". 

Jean said, "It's not, Lainey tested with 99% certainty for trisomy 18".  

(Just like that, it's over)

What about the father?

It's interesting how many ask about the Mother after infant loss.  

Many people ask the Father about the Mother.  

Not many think to ask about the grieving Father.  

I know what he's going through, we lost our daughter together, just as we lost our son.  

Only I had physical recovery to add to my pain. 

Rick was so wonderful after my C-Section, he reminded me that I'm not 32 anymore and that I'd had major surgery.  He really picked up the slack, he did absolutely everything.  

I guess I was busy trying to recover, trying to get back to normal, trying not to throw myself in the lake, to notice his despair.

He couldn't hide out in the house all day in Pj's, he couldn't sleep in, keep his feet propped up.  He had to go to work, he had to function.  He had a few projects/side jobs started before we had Lainey.

  I used to feel so frustrated with him knowing people were becoming impatient because he was not completing the jobs.   I think there was a level of understanding for a time.  

It took me a while to realize Rick came home from work, and helped in the house, but couldn't even look at his side jobs.  Months would go by and he didn't even so much as tinker in the garage.  

So unlike him.

DUH!

He was low, he was depressed, he lost his little girl.  He had to dedicate her grave, he had to dedicate his son's grave 22 years ago next month and then his Mother's grave 21 years ago this month.  He's buried two children!  One at 29 and one at 50.  At 30 he lost his Mom.  

Of course he doesn't want to work in the garage.  Of course after a long thankless day at work, he just wants to watch TV!

When we lost Ricky, we had an electronics business.  The upstairs neighbors had a flood right around the same time as I delivered, the water fell into our shop and customer's items were damaged.  Of course insurance would pick up the tab, but we still had to set about finding replacement products for people.  This one woman, who was greatly inconvenienced demanded that we buy her exactly the camera she had.  (Only, hers was several years old)   

Rick had to deal with the business, his wife delivering a baby, picking out a casket, burying our son, replace peoples' equipment all within weeks of each other.  

I will never forget the day when this woman came in unhappy with her new camera, fussing about the time it took...Rick apologized and explained, "We lost our baby" and she said something to the effect of, "your personal problems should not get in the way of your business".  

Rick was enraged and I remember him screaming at her at the top of his lungs to take her stuff and never come back.  

She never did.

What about him?  It's hard for him too?  

Only he doesn't get on the phone with his best friends, or Mother to talk about it.  He doesn't mention it in conversation because he can't talk about it, it's painful.  

When he started to come out of his depression all this other stuff was happening:  3 robberies at our business within one month of each other.  5 car accidents between Lindsay and Kodi within 3 months.  Only 1 accident was truly their fault.  He had to leave the business he started to take a job with regular pay.  We somehow get through all that, and now people are really breathing down his neck to get the sick work completed.  

He's finally off the couch in the evenings.  He's feeling better.  I just with the pressure would let up.  I'm tired, he's tired.  

About my Social Work Degree

In high school I knew I was going to be a Social Worker.  I got my associates degree with the intention of finishing my BSW.  Rick and I got married and it was put on hold.

I graduated in May 2014, unknowingly pregnant.  I all but begged my internship (at a skilled nursing facility) to keep me on part time.  I felt as if I worked well with staff, I loved the residents, I knew they were expanding, and I was willing to work 8 hours a week if that's all they could offer me.

I wasn't offered even a part time position.  I was perhaps too popular for some of my co-workers, mainly one co-worker, my Supervisor.  I felt crushed because I had grown to love that flawed organization and everyone in it.

By the end of September my fate had been sealed, sealed with a recliner and for the next 3.5 months that's where I could be found.  I couldn't do much because of my blood pressure and I didn't want to do anything that would jeopardize Lainey.  Having a C-Section required a longer recovery period and I admit I was tired of recovering.

Constantly searching for what it was I was supposed to do became discouraging.  Then out of no where I got a call from my real estate friend, "I need to hire you to keep my books".  Within hours was a call from a friends Sister-in-law,  "Would you like to come talk about a job, keeping books?" Two job offers.

I was reminded of the man from my church, standing in my foyer some 9 months earlier with tears in his eyes, telling me that he was prompted to tell me, "Heavenly Father, loves you and he is aware of your needs".

Here it was, I needed a job.

I started part time at both jobs, ultimately the job at a machine shop consumed more of my time and after two weeks I knew it would be a good job.  Each day my boss thanked me before I left.  I had a bit of a money mess to clean up with the books and I worked very hard at it.

2 weeks in, my Social Work Internship Supervisor sent me a text.  She asked how I was doing, asked if I was working.  I didn't want to tell her, I felt her text was superficial.  She hadn't contacted me throughout my pregnancy, when Lainey died no one from my internship sent a card or flowers.  Instead of telling her about my job, I asked her where I should send my resume?  She told me she'd let me know, then I didn't hear from her again.  In my mind, proving she was just fishing.

Weeks 3 and 4 I spent even more hours at work.  My boss kept me busy and I recall saying to him, "You do know that I had been laying around for months and  I just had a baby in November, right?"  He smiled and nodded.   He was putting me to work.

At the end of my 4th week at work, around 10 in the morning my boss's wife came into my office with a $400.00 check, a bonus, thanking me for all my hard work.  I was shocked!  So appreciative!

2 hours later, my Internship Supervisor called she wanted me to come in for an interview, they need to hire an additional Social Worker!  I was completely shocked and conflicted.   As a Social Work Intern, I had to be somewhat submissive to my Supervisor and I didn't always stand up for what I felt was needed or right.  I was certain she would be surprised by the real me, and it would be difficult for both of us.

Yet, it was "THE" job.  The one I had prayed for and cried over.  The one I had missed, with the people I genuinely cared about.  I was floored.  Saturday and I had a long telephone conversation with my former Supervisor.  We discussed what I had been through, we discussed what the job would look like, we discussed everything.  The next step was to talk to the Administrator.

On Monday we had a phone conversation and he told me, "The job is yours, we are not even advertising it".  We agreed that I would come in and speak with him.  Then a few days later my supervisor called with the impression that not only did I accept the job, but I'd be in for training in two days.

They were not listening, they were hearing what they wanted.  

I had a frank conversation with her and I simply stated, "Had I remained on the staff even if only for a few hours a week, this decision would be easier".  "I've been through so much, and my heart has been broken, I'm not sure I can do this job at this time in my life".

I called to speak with the administrator personally about the job and circumstances, I left two messages, he never even took the time to return my phone call.  She had told him I wasn't ready or able to take the job.  Like that, it was over.

They had offered me $2.00 less more an hour than what I was making, no unexpected bonus would come my way and my hours would have zero flexibility, working 5 days a week at a job 40 minutes from home.

Meanwhile, each week I was becoming more familiar with my work responsibilities.  It had been a while since I worked with this financial software, it was challenging, I was not sitting in the recliner.

Around March when the postpartum set in, my job was my saving grace.  It was the only place I wanted to be, I looked forward to going to work, I hated coming home.  There was so much activity at home, all the kids talking, the dog...I couldn't process it.  At work, I had that disconnect from the feelings and pain.  It helped that my co-workers, boss and his wife were all so good to each other and me.  I've been there nearly 8 months and before I leave my boss still thanks me for my work.

I work with 7 men, 5 days a week and I have absolutely no drama.  I am not dealing with disgruntled people or families, back biting of co-workers, nothing.  I have learned some interesting things about a group of men that sit down for lunch together, men at lunch, far different than women!

8 months later, I still enjoy going to work.  I enjoy the mental break.

Yes, I have a social work degree and a student loan to prove it.

For now, I'm happy and safe at my job, so that's where I plan to stay.

The day the music died

My piano sat in the front room at our last house.  I walked passed it many times a day.  Most days, I sat down and played it often, too often, if you were to ask my family.  Mostly because I am not all that great, but practice makes you great, right?!

Before me moved I was in charge of Sunday music at church, I had been the choir director, primary pianist...and often I conducted the congregational hymns.

We moved and were only here a week when we found out about Lainey.  The swelling was difficult and sitting at the piano was impossible.  I could barely sit anywhere that my feet couldn't be up.  My blood pressure was an issue, so much of my time was spent in the recliner with my feet propped up on pillows.

Going to orchestra was out, it was just too much, too many people to face.

Almost in an instant the music in my life was gone.   I went from having music in every aspect of my life, including in the car, to having none.

It's crazy because I love music, all music.

I've started back with the orchestra and I am determined to play the Christmas concert.  I'm not consistent enough with practice attendance yet, but I'm getting there.  Still not sitting down at my piano.  (How I miss my piano students!)  I will, hopefully soon.  And I almost can't stand to have the radio on in my car...some days I can, some days I can't.

It's crazy how much my life has changed in a year.  The music is slowly coming back, which means so am I.

What's it like in Heaven?

Dear Lainey,

You've been gone for 10 long months.  I often hold our weighted Molly Bear before bed to feel you close to me.  It's been a long hard summer.  I welcome fall, it's my favorite time of the year.

I sometimes feel bitter that we didn't get to see you open your eyes or hear your voice.  When those thoughts come in I push them out, knowing Heavenly Father knows what is best for our family.

I cried the other night to Daddy about the sucky extra weight I have to lose!  I'd take it to have you, but it's just another cruel reality that you are gone.  I did all that, went through all that for what?  To give you back?  Frustrating for sure.

Daddy slept an entire night holding your Molly Bear.  I was so grateful, because he didn't hold you here on earth, he just couldn't.  He didn't hold your brother either, it's much too painful.  He suffers too, I forget that at times.

Often I go to bed hoping, wishing you'll visit me in my dreams.  I'd love to know what you are doing. I wonder if you are watching our life, maybe like in a football stand cheering us on, celebrating when we get something right.  I wonder if you are disappointed when we get it wrong, seems like we sure have gotten plenty wrong.

You are loved, you are missed, you are thought about and spoken of often.  

Love, Mommy

Getting better...but then there is this...

I think I may be on my way out of the postpartum thing.  Each day is a bit better, I feel a bit more productive, I feel stronger.  My job helps so much.  

The trouble is all of these dates are coming:

Sept. 14:  Lainey has been gone 10 months

Sept. 19, 2014:  1st home pregnancy test

Sept. 21, 2014:  23rd wedding anniversary

Sept. 23, 2014:  Dr's office, blood test, confirming pregnancy

Sept. 25, 2014:  First Ultra Sound of our sweet girl, confirming her outcome

Then the waiting.

October comes, along with that date:

October 26, 1993:  8 months pregnant with Ricky, Dr. Kay states, "At this time I feel as if the baby is dead". 

My Birthday, October 27, 1993:  I deliver our 6lb 3oz. son, still.  I hold him for only a brief moment and then he is gone.

October 30. 1993:  He is buried.

November 13, 2014:  My water breaks

November 14, 2014:  We welcome Lainey into our world at 12:41 am, she was born still.  At 9:30 that night I say my final goodbye.  It would be the last time I saw Lainey.

November 25, 2014:  We pick up Lainey from the funeral home and drive with her little closed casket to Maryland. 

Thanksgiving Day:  We take Lainey to her resting place where she is buried beside her big brother.

December 3 2014:  My due date

I've always been such a numbers person.  These dates just won't pass by unnoticed.  

I have such a firm testimony that God had greater plans for my children, and I've come to accept his will for them.  I can take comfort that they serve him in a higher capacity.  But if I were completely honest, sometimes those dates from 1993 get to me.  

My birthday:  the first birthday after Ricky died was awful, just awful (I'm afraid Thanksgiving will be much the same)  Each year I try to rise above it, some years I do, some years I don't.  Sometimes it's sparked by a conversation, or event.  Sometimes it's a quiet sorrow, other times it's a sorrow which cannot be hidden.   I just can't predict the grief.  

The anxiety about last Septembers dates have started, this year will be the worst September, because it's the year anniversary of finding out I was pregnant, it's the first ultra sound, it's the first doctors appointment.  I've stated multiple times that I get the plan and I do, but the grief takes over, sometimes I don't even recognize it right away.  

So, even though I'm getting better, there are many days ahead that will be difficult.  I'd only be kidding myself if I thought I'd be okay.  

You never forget the day your babies were born and you NEVER forget the day they die.    

This morning

I'm headed off to see a new doctor, brand new, one I've never spoken with, laid eyes on or even heard of, never ever.

That means I'll have to tell my story.

I want to cancel.

I have great anxiety about it.

And tears.

I tell my story when I feel up to telling my story, not on cue.

I'm weepy, anxious, upset, filled with trepidation and despair.    

Prayers please, now and continuously our journey is far from over.

9 Months

The first day, week, month, two seasons, 4 holidays have gone on without Lainey, I made it.  I made it to the 9 month mark. (The 9 month mark mocks me...in 9 months you can have a baby)  

Initially you don't feel like you will make it, but you somehow do.

All new moms now note their baby's progress by posting a picture of their baby along with their appropriate "month marker".

This was my 3 month progress note:

Milk production has stopped
Hair loss continues
C-section scar is still numb to the touch.
Feeling pretty good
Started a job, a big adjustment
40 extra pounds still to lose
Sleeping better
Not angry to have another loss
Understanding and trusting God
My processing time is very slow- I often feel that I am standing back watching myself interact with people
It takes brain power to understand everything so fast
I am delayed in understanding and responses
The grace and mercy granted me by God to get me through this difficult time is slowly fading
Made it through a baby boy blessing at church, no tears

This was my 6 month progress note:

Hair loss still
Extra weight still
Trouble sleeping
Quick to temper
Processing is so much better
C-section?
Did that actually happen?
Did I really just have a baby?
Feeling crazy
Emotions are all over the place
Still understanding and trusting God
Unable to pray
I'm missing the grace and mercy I once had

This is my progress at 9 months;

Still Hair loss
Extra weight (And I just don't care- and I hate that)
           (It's one thing to gain weight during pregnancy and then have a baby, it's unusually cruel to     gain it and have to deal with it, without a baby)
Trouble sleeping (I'm going back on a sleep aide)
Quick to temper  (postpartum in full swing)
Easily frustrated
I've been pleading with God to relieve some of the stress.
          (Car accidents, Rick's job change, work stress..."I gave you back my baby, I praised your name, please, please give us a break")
Frustrated with Family, external family, work family, church family, actually,

          ANY AND ALL PEOPLE. 

(Not dogs who think they are people. Dogs, bunnies and guinea pigs, all good)

I still trust his plan, I really do and I am sure this is a refiners fire that's why I please with God, "How do I serve  thee today?  I did not really just go through all this for nothing, what do I do with it?"
I really feel like the suffering has been settling in for a while now.  I'm trying to manage it.
I hate the bitterness I feel for the "symptoms" that linger.
          (So I give you back my baby and I get to deal with; hair loss, weight gain, postpartum and regular life stress?!!! I can't have the free pass on some of this stuff?  Life isn't fair)

That's when I hear the little voice telling me, "No, life isn't fair, it's your life, you make it what you want it..."

So I battle on postpartum and everything.  Knowing I'm still not quite right.

Knowing I have a long lonely way to go.

The fight of my life

I've been researching this topic, salt in a wound it usually accompanies talk of postpartum with a baby.  So very little, I mean little, as in nothing, is really written about it sans baby. 

I've tried telling people I'm not myself, I don't feel well...

They don't get it, most think I'm laying around crying about my baby who has died.  

I have some moments of that of course, I'm human.  

My reality is much of what is listed, dissatisfaction with everyone/everything.  

Quick to temper.

Honestly I feel like I'm going crazy.  

The isolation does not help, but then who really wants to be with a crazy person? 

I don't like feeling this way. I don't. 

Some days I wish I could just commit myself, find a magic pill so this will end. 

Oh my gosh, you do not know the relief I feel in that last sentence.

To be free from this!

I had a terrible bout of this the other night.

More than once, this thought has crossed my mind. 

(I am not suicidal, I am just not well) 

I'm too good at hiding it, I suppose.

At this point in time, people aren't as sympathetic as they once were.

Patience wears thin, people have moved on.

I've moved on in a sense.  I understand the plan. 

Currently I'm held a prisoner by the hormones.  

"Being depressed isn't a choice...it is a biological, neuro-chemical imperative; a downhill slide in an uphill battle, pushing one hand against the mountain that feels like it's crumbling down around you while you try to reach all the leaking holes in the breaking dam with the other hand".  

Kina diez deleon via human in recovery. 

True.

No one can understand unless they've been through it.

I've gone through this really only once before, never with such vengeance. 

Imagine postpartum, imagine how difficult it can be.

Then imagine it without a baby.

Smokey

I saw this video on Facebook yesterday...obviously I wanted our baby girl to come home because saying goodbye is awful, but we didn't have Smokey when we had our other babies.  We love Smokey so much, I couldn't wait to see his reaction to a baby in the house.  

Can't help but feel a little sad about a seemingly silly thing, 

just one more way you feel robbed I guess.  

I think people would be surprised at how many things that might make you feel this way.  

Its definitely a fight to rise above it  all the time, most days are good, 

with small bad moments in time.  

I know she is safe, whole and free from the pains of this world.  

Pets and Babies

The New York Times

I recently saw an article on the NY Times about a woman who had a still born baby.  At the end of the article, the author asked the readers to share their stories and any advice for those about to go through this unthinkable pain.

I responded quickly (we had 1000 things going on) and assumed I would have time to edit my remarks before anything was published.

Much to my surprise I received this email today:

Hello,

My name is Michael Roston and I'm an editor on the Health/Science desk at The New York Times.

We thank you for using your time and no doubt quite a bit of emotional energy to share your insights on stillbirth with Times readers. We have published an expanded collection that includes your submissions on NYTimes.com. It can be read at this link:

http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2015/health/stillbirth-reader-stories.html

Thank you for your patience as we worked to complete and publish this collection. We greatly admire your willingness to share your experiences, and we hope others will find comfort and guidance in what you had to say.

-Michael Roston michael.roston@nytimes.com

I'm grateful to tell my story (even if it's not perfectly edited)  and I pray that others will benefit from reading it and have peace along their journey.  

8 months

It's been 8 months since we've had Lainey.  8 months since I've held her close and kissed her cheeks.  At this time 8 months ago I had to give her to the funeral home representative.  I can't think of a more difficult time in my life, giving her up.

Life goes on, don't cry as much.  Not as interested in collecting keepsakes as I was at first.  I hold our Lainey Bear.  The bear is Lainey's exact weight.  Can't help but hold it close every couple of days for a moment or too.  It's amazing how comforting that weighted bear is to my family.

Knowing the outcome, knowing Lainey would leave us, I still would not have changed anything.  So grateful for our precious girl.  Grateful to know she is ours.  Missing her.

Really, I'm ok

Am I?  I think so.  I have my moments.

After yesterday's post I am certain everyone who knows me and read my post most likely worried themselves about how they maybe had offended me.  The thing of it is, I love my friends and family, so I don't allow myself to become offended all that easily.  And I've had practice dealing with infant loss.

It really is impossible for someone who hasn't been through it to understand.  I've become tolerant of things people say in ignorance.  Those words don't hurt like they did the first time.  But for my new friends who've been through this, my heart hurts for them.  I know what they are living through and it's not fun.

That's why I am such an advocate of self care.

I have to get through this, I have to go on in this life, so I have to do whatever necessary to keep going.  I trust God's plan for my family and children.  I know it will be okay, and I am faithful.  But I am smart, I see no reason to put myself through torture.

Baby invitations right now go right in the trash.  I don't even feel bad about not attending or sending a gift.  Doesn't mean I don't love the family, the baby...it means I've got to protect myself.

(however this is softening)

I wasn't a big fan of showers before delivery anyway, I had one and then our baby died.

At church, when newborn babies are blessed, I used to be the person who would scribble down all the words I could, type it up and give it the families.  Always a well received gesture.  Not now, not today and that's okay.

If I'm having a bad moment in time and someone is demanding my time or attention, I simply say, "I am having a moment" then I take the time I need.

No one else is going to protect me quite like me.

If I want to talk about Lainey, I talk about her.  I'm certain at times it makes people uncomfortable, but she's my daughter, every bit as my other girls and if I want to say her name or talk about her I will.

That's the thing, just because she isn't living here on earth, doesn't make her any less of my daughter to me.

It's okay to decline family invitations, to avoid babies at church, to stay away from the baby isle at the store.  It's okay to cry, it's okay to talk about your child, your delivery, your loss.  It's okay to be emotional around anniversary dates, Mother's Day, the due date.  The 14th of every month because that's when your baby was born.  It's okay to not attend baby showers, it's okay not to fuss over new babies, it's ok really.

If you practice self care, really taking care of yourself, being true to who you are and where you are in your grief, you will be okay, Really.

A few words about grief for people who have never buried their baby...

the loss of a baby is not just the loss of a baby.

it is the loss of a child.  

it is the loss of first smile, first tooth, first day of school, birthdays, family pictures, graduation, marriage, and grandchildren.  

it is the loss of your future with them.

it is hopes and dreams dashed.

it is the devastation of all your friends and family.  

it is watching your parents, your siblings, your children, your friends suffer.

and knowing their pain is brought on by you.  (not on purpose of course)

it is awkward silence. 

it is life changing.

if you come out of it, you are never the same person.

without people realizing it you are silently judged for not being that same person.  

initially you fight to get out of bed.

then a week and a month go by.

slowly you realize you don't cry everyday anymore.

you begin to think "I'm doing better".  

without warning tears flow.

sometimes you avoid babies.

then you are judged for avoiding babies.

you avoid baby showers.

you are judged for avoiding baby showers.  

people get angry with you for avoiding those things which are normally expected.

people want you to "get over it".

people tell you things like "it's for the best".

people will tell you, "it's not the babies fault".

friends and family get tired of hearing about it.

after a time people are surprised you are still talking about your baby.

they get tired of your depression.

they want you to snap out of it.

days that you do snap out of it, you are so proud.

unexpectedly you are enjoying a great moment when something triggers your loss.

you cry.

people around you feel bad.

you feel bad, but can't help it. 

you strategically avoid situations that might make others uncomfortable.

like not attend their baby shower weeks after your loss.

you consider their occasion as happy, and you don't want people to be reminded of your loss.  

it's not that you aren't happy for them and their baby.

it's that you are so incredibly sad to say goodbye to yours.

not to mention, YOU ARE HORMONAL.

how long did it take you to get back to yourself after delivery of a living baby?  

just imagine how much longer it takes to get back to yourself after burying a baby.

especially when the milk comes in with no baby to nurse. 

and when there won't be another baby.

or there is little hope of having another.

grief takes time.

grief needs understanding.

there is no time frame by which the grief should end.

none.

if you are getting up, showering, going to work then you are working through your grief.

you should be applauded.

some days are better than others.

at first you have bad days.

eventually you have only bad moments in your days.

sometimes you even have an entire day that was good.  

if you have several in a row, you sometimes feel guilt.

you love your baby and don't want to ever forget him and her.  

sometimes you can't love on other babies.

if you do, people think you are trying to replace your baby with that one.

if you do, people are watching to see how you react.

if you find yourself in a moment of happiness with someone else's baby you feel guilt.

again, you wouldn't want your baby to be forgotten.  

if you don't love on other babies, you are judged.  

If after reading all this you still think, mothers who have buried their babies should "get over it".

consider this.

which one of your children are you willing to live without?

really, which one?

which one are you willing to never talk about again?

to not watch grow up?

marry?

have a family?

would you mind being judged because you avoid children their age? 

how about avoiding family gatherings that might be painful?

have your "inability to move on" talked about behind your back?

or to be excluded because you can't celebrate like you used too?

think you could "get over it" if it happened to you?

After losing a child you are forever changed.  

You are not the same.

You shouldn't be expected to remain the same.  

Would you be?

Most people see...

a happy go lucky, thriving, strong person, who has been through so much and has bounced back.  Much like the plants in my garden I do get through many things.  That's what everyone thinks.  In some aspect it's true.  I feel like after the death of Lainey, God was with me and held me close.  He filled me with the spirit and I was able to proclaim my gratitude.  

In all reality, I'm not thriving, not like I want everyone to think I am.  I'm ripped to shreds, torn down, lifeless.  My attempts to build a life here have been in vain.   No matter how I try to fill my calendar, nothing seems to divert my attention from the complete isolation, nothing.    

It doesn't mean I don't believe or that I blame God.  It's me that's so out of touch with him.  The fight to get back is overwhelming, because to get back to him I'd have to allow myself to feel.  

To feel is to hurt. 

Maryland

Saturday morning I was up bright and early, getting ready to see family.  Aunt Kate, who Lainey Katherine was named after, her grandson Joseph and other family members I love as well.  

My Mom and I drove to Street, MD.  We passed strawberry festivals, we passed churches having dinners...and we kept saying, "oh, that would be nice on stop at on the way home". 

At first we got to visit with Aunt Kate, then Joseph and Sherie came over, eventually Jennifer stopped in for a few minutes I sat arm in arm with Uncle George.  It was so good to be with everyone.  

Once we left there we headed straight to the cemetery.  

 Something surreal about driving up.  How have I managed to live through all of this?  Rick and I both feel so grateful to have the lives of our babies "noted".  Their names listed for others to see.  What might people think when they see it?  Will they wonder how we've been?  Will they shed a few tears?  Will they be surprised that we lost two babies so far apart?  

I've been here plenty of times before and from Ricky and Lainey I have always been drawn to other grave markers.  A larger marker diagonally from my babies labeled "NIGHT RIDER".   Just beyond that one is another, in clear site.  

 I've seen this one before, but it just never stood out to me like today.  

Beloved Son of David & Shirley Brown.  

Oct 23, 1971.  

There I stood, 43 years old, born just 4 days after their baby.  I'm the age of their son, they lost 43 years ago.

I lived, he didn't.  

I imagined his parents standing on these grounds having to do what we've done.  My heart breaking for them and myself.  His flowers had fallen over, and grass had grown over them, making it difficult to pick up.  But I pulled them out of the weeds and placed them upright again.  

David and Shirley I'm so sorry you had to bury your son 43 years ago.  It's been 22 years for us this year, will we see the 43rd year?  It seems like we have already lived a lifetime without our children, to think we still have another 21+ years, just depressing.  

It was still hard to leave my babies, at times I just wanted to lay on the ground and stay with them. Part of me wanted to give up and just stay there.  The other part wanted to trust God's plan, believe in it and know we are blessed.  

We are blessed.    

Trip Home

Gosh, where to start.

Kaylie spent three days trying out for cheer at the middle school.  On the last day (Friday, my day to go home) she found out she didn't make it.  I didn't realize there would be both 6th and 7th graders trying out.  (I really would have warned her that maybe the older girls would get first preference...)

I was so mad at myself that I haven't been able to put her in dance or cheer.  She is such a naturally dancing little girl.

Anyway, we left the school, Kaylie crying, I was crying...I had to drop her at the house and leave. Somewhere along the way I bit my tongue.  Lindsay drove me to my ride, my new friend Karen, and I got into her car with a mouth full of blood crying.  It was awful!  I'm sure Karen wondered how a 7 hour drive would go, with a bloody crying stranger...eventually we were able to enjoy ourselves.

Back home, people were doing their best to comfort Kaylie.

We arrived late at night and I went straight to bed.

Fresh Tears

I don't cry often anymore, just some subtle tears at night maybe. 

In anticipation of going home for a few hours over the weekend, I thought maybe I would call about the headstone for my babies.

You wouldn't know or understand the difficulty of such a task unless you too have buried a member of your family.  Something you have to work up too, something you have to have strength for, something you have to get up the nerve to do.  I had such a moment at work today. 

I immediately acted on it, for those times will quickly pass.

I dialed, had to explain who I was and what I wanted twice.  (All while biting my lip and holding my breath for this dreaded call, about such a hard topic, to be over)

The gentleman at the end of the phone knew what I was talking about.  I could hear him flipping through papers and his words, "Oh, yes, that is to arrive this week!" 

I explained how I live in NC, how I'll be home on Saturday and I thought I would be visiting the cemetery on Saturday. 

He acted with a sense of urgency, letting me know he wasn't certain of the schedule, providing the stone has come in correctly with no errors that perhaps they might be able to place it on Friday. 

Even writing these words the fresh tears flow.  Years in the making, the time, effort, energy of others as well as countless donations, is finally here.  I am old enough and have lived long enough to know not to get my hopes up, but I can hardly contain it.  Will there finally be a visual marker that my children lived and died?     Will people pause at their marker and think of the Mother of those sweet babies, having them 21 years 18 days apart?  Will they think of their Father, wonder if other children were born?

The last time I was there I was still sore from surgery, walking slow, still somewhat numb.  The ground was cold, hard and wet with snow.  I am hopeful for a beautiful sunny day, a happy day.

Whether the headstone makes it there or not, I am really looking forward to spending a few minutes with my babies.

Memorial Day Weekend

We left Friday after school and work.  The girls really pressured me to leave as soon as possible.  They just couldn't give me any peace about it. The relentless nagging and brow beating, it was so overwhelming.

We got in the car, me cussing under my breath the whole way, and we pull into the parking lot of the campground.  We were the only car, not another car in the lot!  We were first, absolutely first!

Then the kids were like, well, maybe we should just wait here, maybe we should come back...I wouldn't allow it, we unloaded and carried everything going to the camp site all in one trip.  Felt so good.  (Of course there was bickering the entire way, but we made it)

Eventually we set up the tent and greeted our friends.

Some of them I hadn't seen since losing Lainey, the first time seeing people is always the worst.  You think, "Do they know, do they care?"  I find I use her name often and I love hearing it.

We enjoyed great food, the fire, smores, great company.  It really was a wonderful time.  At night the girls and I would settle down in our tent and talk a few minutes.  Just us.  The kids played volleyball (until the ball went in the fire) they played card games, they played that statue game where they smack each other, they chopped wood, went fishing, swimming.

I'm so glad to have such great friends.  I felt like I spent quality time with everyone in attendance. Just so good to laugh and visit with people you know and love.

The best fun was at night we had bold raccoons trying to get our food, climbing trees right in front of us.  Saturday and Sunday nights were both spent with a white clothes basket, "raccoon bait" and a trick limb to capture the raccoon.  Sunday night Rick was deemed, "The Trap Master!" by one of the boys.   It was fun, they spent hours sitting quietly, then shushing people as the raccoon came close to the trap.  Someone mentioned, "This is what we used to do before cell phones!"

I wasn't nearly as weepy for Lainey as I thought I would be.  I got to talk about her and tell her story, it felt so good.

We really were blessed.  Monday morning we had some delicious pancakes and sausage and packed in all in, headed home to get ready for our Monday company!  We were tired, oh so tired, a good tired!

Upcoming camping trip

Last year the littles and I went camping with some friends from church.  We had such a great time, cooking, laughing, playing. Rick of course was working, so I had to go alone with the girls.  That trip is coming up once again.  I'm looking forward to it and I'm not.  

 It is so hard to believe that this time last year I sat around a campfire, laughing and telling stories with my friends while my baby girl was quietly growing inside of me.  Hard to believe she was with me as I slept on the cold hard ground, pushed and pulled a wagon full of heavy gear.  I'll be here again, but without Lainey.  She was apart of me then, these pictures represent a time in our life when she was with us.  Sigh.  

So I'm going through the motions, preparing for the trip, preparing for fun.  It will be good for us, but so often I find myself in awe that we went through these times all last year, while Lainey was with us and we didn't even know it.  Part of me is sad to know I won't be carrying her with me this camping trip.  I truly would have carried her forever if it meant she was still with me.  

I pray for a good time and sweet moments with my girls.  

Two steps forward, one step back...

I felt so fabulous and relieved to tell the one person who is expecting that I can't avoid and then I find out another is expecting.  AUGH!

We work in a church calling together, a younger married woman who has two children is expecting, my worst nightmare.  It's unavoidable, it's still so fresh for me, it's still so painful, I just don't want it under my nose, waved in my face.  (not that she would intentionally do so)

I can't ask someone who is excited and happy to bring a baby into the world, to be sullen and miserable around me.  It's not that I'm not excited for them, just so desperately sad for myself.

I know this is going to happen, it's happened with Ricky, my two miscarriages (I have cousins the ages of my children who have passed)...a different cousin just had a baby boy exactly to the DAY two months after we lost Lainey.  TO THE DAY!

I try not to associate Lainey with any new babies, I try not to imagine her "living", sitting, crawling, crying...I just try not to do that to myself.

I am trusting God, I will be okay, this will pass.  One day I'll be reunited with my sweet babies, until then I am counting on God to carry me.

Self Care

Part of my survival through the loss of yet another sweet baby is my own self care.

I chose my exposure to things which might trigger feelings of loss, or make me think of my doll baby Lainey Katherine.

That has been relatively easy to do.  I've hidden friends with small babies, friends who are pregnant from my Facebook feed.  Since I am in Young Women's at church I am not exposed too much to other women, pregnant, or with little babies, but at work, that has been problematic.

I work in a Machine Shop (a story for another day)  with 7 men.  It's attached to a family race shop, so Brothers and Sister working together daily, neat to watch.

A few months after I started one of the machinists came in announcing that his girlfriend is pregnant.

My heart just sank.  I can't get away from this, from hearing about it, I was so sick inside.
The Father had only dated the Mother for 3 weeks, when she got pregnant, so not a long committed relationship and here comes a baby.  I could hear talk about it and kept myself out of the loop of it all. Then today the opportunity presented itself today, to tell him about my baby.

Ordinarily I don't do such a thing with pregnant folks, that tends to go bad, but it was the perfect chance and I took it.

I asked him, "Did you know I had a baby girl in the fall?"  He was shocked, "No, I didn't know that".
I explained after 24 years of marriage, while on birth control, we discovered I was pregnant and we found out almost immediately that Lainey had a life limiting condition".

Right away he spoke up about how he knows others that have gone through similar things with cord accidents...said it was such a miracle, that so many things can go wrong...

I told him about T18 and explained the difference between T21, told him we were willing to do what God had in store, bring her home or bury her...I showed him a picture of her sweet face.

It felt good to share my littlest girl with him if only for a minute.  I am hopeful that he'll be considerate when talking about his new baby, sleepless nights and the expense of diapers...

I just needed him to know, I am prayerful that he will be sensitive, know that I am still grieving, hormonal, still losing my hair, that I still ache for my daughter and that maybe I can't fulling engage in conversation about his infant son.  

I'm glad he was receptive and it was a good conversation, so relieved it's over.  

Weekend happenings

Spent Saturday around the house and then went out to dinner, Rick, me, Lexie and Kaylie.  Kodi worked out of town and Lindsay was at her job.  It was good to get out.  We found a car place that would help Lindsay get her first car.

Kodi had two speeding tickets in March, 4 days apart from each other by the same police officer. (When Kodi told me I said right then and there, "You'd better call your Sister and tell her to drive careful because if anything else happens you will likely lose your cars!)

Then Lindsay was driving on a Sunday when a deer ran into her drivers side mirror then flew across the hood of her car.  (mirror destroyed)  On a Tuesday she was rear ended!  Rick could tell they would total her car, but she'd just put money in it and the trunk would close.  He was going to doctor it up and let her keep driving until it fell apart.

That plan was short lived, because on a wet rainy day she then rear ended someone!  3 Car accidents in the first 12 days of April!

Rick went completely nuts!  (For once I wasn't the raving lunatic)  He said, "I'm done, you both can get your own cars, your own insurance, I'm Done!" It was Heavenly!  I never really wanted the to give the kids cars (old junkers Rick fixed up) because I wanted them to learn responsibility.

Kodi got his car, and the hunt was on for Lindsay's.

I felt relieved this car sharing, dragging my stuff out of this car, her stuff out of my car or Ricks truck...just so relived that she has wheels!

I'm worried for both Lindsay and Kodi, having car and insurance payments, but it will be good for them.  It will be good for them and for all of us!

Video chat

I spent the morning with Angie through video chat.  It is so good for me!  I'm so grateful for modern technology that allows me to visit my family and friends.  She made cupcakes, I cleaned the fridge and we did it together in our own homes in different states!  From 10 am until around 2.  Felt like chicken soup for the soul.

Since we moved we are so isolated, no friends here to really spend time with or call on the phone. Very easy to get lonely and feel depressed.

I think my family and distant friends would be surprised by the intense ache I feel from being so far away.  They don't realize how much they are loved, missed and needed.

6 long months

I woke this morning with what I felt like was a big secret.  It was May 14th, 2015.  I felt as if most wouldn't even know what this day was, like it would come and go without notice.  I felt like I was the only one who could look at the calendar and see/feel the date pulsating back at me to remind me of this day, this moment in time.  

November 14, 2014 12:41 am. 

It is so hard to move forward and still we have too.  You'd be completely surprised by all the distractions we've had to keep us moving on, to prevent us from dwelling in the past, 

totally surprised.

(first pictures of Lainey)

It's been 6 months since I've held Lainey, 6 months since I've nestled her up against my cheek and kissed her forehead.  I miss her.

I had to go to Wal-Mart in the afternoon and headed straight towards me in the produce section was a grocery cart holding an infant car seat.  I held my breath a bit as it went by, but the curiosity got the best of me.  I had to turn around and see what was inside.  There she was a dark haired little baby girl.  Had I been brave enough to ask I would not have been surprised to find she was around 6 months old.  It was the first time I placed Lainey in this world as baby who had aged.  She might have been that big, she might have still had her dark hair, she definitely wouldn't have her ears pierced and I am certain her eyes would still be blue.    

Blue like mine and Kodi,  She would likely have dimples like Kodi and Kaylie.  Both Lindsay and Kaylie have a little dimple in their chins, Lainey had that as well.  Her hair would be dark like her daddy and she'd still have Lexie's profile.  She would be apart of each of us and yet her own little person.  

6 months have come an gone, my girl still so far away, I miss her moving in my tummy, I miss the thought of her arrival, I miss holding he in my arms.  I can't wait to be with her again, but I will.  

The best Monday ever!

I had no idea how hard Mother's Day was on me, until the Monday after it came with a

HUGE SIGH OF RELIEF!

I just felt so much better, there is no describing it, there were no surprise tears, no weepy feelings.  I am grateful.

Off to work as usual, then home to handle the crowd.

Rick is giving up smoking and asked the Elder's to share our church program with him.  He had read the material on Sunday evening and was ready to accept the challenge.  I am so thankful he is trying and am prayerful it ends!!