Jason

Parenting is hard. It involves a certain degree of maturity, a degree that few people actually possess. It requires great strength...and the power to know what you can't control, what you can, and how to tell the difference. It requires great focus. Determination and ferocity. It requires self-lessness and sacrifice. It requires love. To be a parent is asking someone, who truly doesn't know any better to trust you. It's a promise. Its taking hold of a tiny little hand, a hand that may be a few hours old, a few days old, or a few years old, and promising to never let go. And...its about knowing when to "bend" that promise. As parents, the reality is...we'll never really let go. We'll always hold on, watching and waiting, standing by, and waiting to be needed. And if you're a successful parent, those times come frequently. Not just because their lives are crashing at their feet, or because they need money, or the car...but because somebody broke their heart. Or they passed that big exam. Perhaps they got that job, or they finally graduated college. Someday they'll get married, and have babies of their own, and they'll need you then....and so you wait. You watch, and you hope you did right by them. All the while, you burst with pride...not just because you're their parent, but because you get to KNOW this incredible person...this amazing soul. Its just icing on the cake of life that you got to raise them.
I watch Jason everyday, and I have to ask myself how I got so lucky to be his mom. Its an in-explainable feeling, really. Those of you who know my baby, will know what I mean.  For those of you who don't...this little boy loves with every inch of his heart. I remember well the first time I held him...in fact, I can remember it like it was yesterday. I could have sworn he smiled at me, but then again...it could have just been the huge smile on my face reflecting back at me. Jason was an adventure I wasn't sure I was ready for, but an opportunity that I wasn't going to give up. He showed up in my life at a time when he was least expected, and least planned for. Fresh out of basic training, I thought I'd have time to see the world. I thought I'd travel the country, and then someday, settle down with a family of my own. Just a couple of months out of basic training though, God would announce very different plans for me. I called Momma Gina, and when she answered, i said, without a hello, or much else, "i think i'm having people" and she said, with a smile that I could hear through the phone, and the miles "let me know when you know for sure." I went to the doctor, took the tests, and they confirmed my suspicion, there was a little me on the way. My first call was to Gina, and then to Shawn...to let him know that he was going to be a daddy. He was less than thrilled, but I was ecstatic. It absolutely never occurred to me not to have him, and I know now why that was. God was trying to tell me then what an amazing, powerful, and life changing part of me he'd become.
I saw him first at 12 weeks...and I remember how beautiful he looked. I remember thinking that there was no possible way I could love anyone, not even him, as much as I loved him that moment...but I had no idea how wrong I was. This was the moment that he owned me...and he has ever since.

I carried him carefully, and I carried him with love. I was overly aware of the fragile life I carried, and I couldn't imagine doing anything to hurt him, or lose him...he had all of me, and I knew it, even then. I anticipated his arrival, not yet knowing he was a he, but knowing what I'd name if he was going to be. Jason was the only thing that ever sounded right to me. Shawn picked that part of it...he wanted his son to be named after one of his best friends who had died. I thought about it for awhile, and fell in love. Part of me still hoped it'd be a girl...but I sort of knew he'd be a boy...I was always calling the baby a "him" or "he". I just knew....they say that happens sometimes. I remember, at 20 weeks, I went to the ultrasound to find out just exactly what was doing karate in my tummy. By this time, he wasn't very big...at least, I wasn't showing too much, but I was eager to know if I was shopping for a Jason or a Kaylee. I was rushed to know what I'd be decorating my nursery with, and what kind of clothes I could buy. I didn't really care what i had...I just wanted to have it already! My little one was, and still is, VERY open. He didn't have any problems with announcing to me that he was a boy, and giving me the most amazing look at his little face. They switched the monitor so I could see his heartbeat, and I cried. THIS was MINE. I was growing him, nurturing him, and keeping him safe and warm...and soon I would hold him, and do all of those things in person. I was taken by  him, by the whole thing. She switched the monitor again to 3D, and I got to see just what he looked like. Instantly, I saw Shawn....and instantly, i realized how wrong i was, ever thinking I'd reached the cap at which i was capable of loving him. Oh no..this baby, hadn't even begun to steal my heart...and i was already smitten. Truth be told, at that moment, I'd have done anything for him.

The rest of the pregnancy went by relatively quickly...I nested, a LOT...and had my little one's nursery ready for him long before he'd ever be in it. Soon after this ultrasound, we had a very special visit from some special guests. The person in the world who may have been MORE in love with this baby...and I'm not even sure that's possible. How eagerly we both awaited his arrival. Her first grandchild, my first child. This was monumental for the both of us, and we shared it in a way that only that we could. We shared something that day...love, and laughter, and tears...that I don't fully understand....but i don't need to. He had her that day too...

And...if truth be told, some things never change. 

Needless to say...that little baby inside me eventually wanted out, and he got his way, right on time (and not a minute sooner, as is typical of my son). I welcomed him into the world on September 12, 2007 at 4:22pm, and at that moment, I felt what it was like to REALLY give yourself to another person. I felt what it was like to want to know EVERYTHING about someone. I remember staring at him for HOURS...memorizing his face...thinking that I wanted to be able to call up his little nose anytime i needed or wanted to. I was in labor for 16 hours, none of which I really remember. Few people believe me when I say that, but its true. I was SO focused on seeing him, and holding him, that being in labor with him literally had little effect on me. I plainly couldn't WAIT to be his mommy, and see him for the first time. I longed for holding his tiny hand, and THAT is what got me through the laboring process. I remember pushing 3 times, and then the doctor was holding my beautiful baby boy. I remember my first words of him "he looks like a little gremlin...but he's my little gremlin." And i'd never, in my life...been happier than I was at that minute. 

 I don't think I was even really aware how much I loved him then, I just knew I did. I was in shock and awe that this little person belonged to me. As the days went on, this little boy grew up. He grew and he grew and he grew. He was no longer a baby anymore, before I knew it he was a crawling, pulling himself up little man. He was amazing, and holding my attention every single day. There were hard times, and sleepless nights, but he moved me...to be better than i was...to change my life. To be someone he could be proud of...because God knows I was proud of him. He was my everything, and it's hard to imagine that everything could come in such a small form...But he did...My life went from being about what made me happy, to being about what made him happy...and i found that could be summed up in just a few things. Food, Milk, and Mickey Mouse. He was a pretty happy kid...and he was alllll mine. His first birthday rolled around too fast, and he was a walking man. I remember that day well...I could practically see him going off to college....and i had a mini breakdown. 

That next year felt like a week, and before I new it...he was turning 2. And telling me what kind of birthday party he wanted. And i cried some more. 

We made the big move to Arizona that year, and his little brother was born. He got some brand new, and very exciting  memories with Momma Gina, and as I illustrated above, those memories are still going strong. They're nearly inseparable now, and that's just the way we like it. Unfortunately, my baby didn't stop growing at 2, he eventually turned 3. 

I didn't cry that day though. Instead, I rejoiced and celebrated in the amazing little man that my baby is becoming. I marveled at all the things he knew, how independent he was...and we had a really great time. That year flew by, and brought about a LOT of changes in his life. He went from having a "Daniel Monster" to a Daddy, and he learned a little about what that means. He had a wonderfully special year, and then....he turned 4. 

And so, here we are. Luckily for me, he hasn't gotten any older than this....quite yet. He's still four, and still amazing. The truth about Jason is...he's so special. And he doesn't even know it. He has no idea how a simple kiss can change my day...and he doesn't know how randomly telling me I'm beautiful can pick me up out of that hole I'm in. He doesn't know that he his smile saved my life...and he doesn't know that he's everything about me that's anything worth bragging about. He doesn't know that he's the reason i wake up everyday, and that his laugh is the thing i look foward to each night. He'll never know that he was absolutely everything i never knew i needed, and how lucky i am that he's mine. He started preschool this year, and next year, he'll be in kindergarten. He's growing up so fast, and learning so much about everything. I want so badly to slow him down...because i need him, and yet...i want so badly to let him go and watch him shine. My four year old is signing his alphabet. He's spelling words that most kids can't even say. He's wise beyond his years, and he's everything I could have ever asked for...and more. 

He's most definitely the keeper of my heart. But I'm done pretending I'm even close to feeling for him everything I ever will. Each day, he gives me something else to be thankful for, something else to look forward to. Each day, I know how lucky I am that God chose me to be his mother. The truth is, there's a lot of bad in the world. There's a lot of bad in every single day. There's hurt, there's heartache, and there's loss. There's laughter, and anger, and tears. There's suffering, and there's death. But at the end of the day...there's this.

 And that's reason enough everyday to keep on doing it. 

When all was said and done...i cried.

At 10pm on Wednesday night, I started the pills that would empty my uterus, and complete the process of miscarrying. I lamented to you all how hard it was to make the decision to take the pills, and believe me, there were some tears. D had to talk to me and remind me that it was NOT a choice that I was making, and regardless whether I could bring myself to believe it or not, the baby was gone. I cried a bit, and then I dried my eyes, and took the medicine. The first night was....uneventful. I cramped and contracted like hell, and pretty much spent the whole night fighting off the pain, but nothing really happened. It was odd to me, I expected it to happen fast, but it really didn't. I found that kind of weird. At 0730 on Thursday morning, I took the next dose of the medicine, and began contracting hard again, but this time, the bleeding started. Because I have tact, I'm not going to elaborate too far into this portion....except to say that I bled a lot. They warned me that in addition to bleeding that would be much like a very heavy period, I'd be passing clots...which would be the product of pregnancy, and that that was a good thing. They said as long as i wasn't soaking more than 2 pads an hour, that I would be fine. At about 0930, I had a talk with D, and I let him know that I found the bleeding to be a little excessive. In the time span of 1 1/2 hours, I'd soaked 4 full pads, as well as passed 4-5 clots the size of a softball. It was terrifying. I was dizzy, nauseated, light-headed, and weak. I was pale, and barely standing. D called the doc, who advised us to wait it out until 1145, and if the bleeding hadn't subsided, we could go ahead and make our way in the ER. A few minutes later, he got another phone call, from my primary care doctor, who told him not to waste any time, to get me in immediately...and its a good thing he did. Very honestly, had he not...I could have died. 

     We got to the hospital, and had a few colorful run ins with the staff there. Ya know, I really don't get the people they have working in triage. If you don't want to be there, then don't be there. Please don't take it out on me that you don't like your job, when there's something ailing me. I'm likely to come over the counter and shank you with your syringe. Rude women. Anyhow, we got through triage and into the back where i got to see a doctor. He shared momma's sentiment that i blended in with the sheets, and the fact that I couldn't stand or walk on my own was concerning. I was pale, weak, and lethargic, and the bleeding was still going strong. It'd be an understatement to say that I was scared. I had no idea what was going on, or what was wrong with me. They got me to my room, and ran 2 IV's, in order to get me hydrated again. My blood pressure was scary low, as was my pulse. They decided to admit me, and sent me to a room of my own. I was sick, but in decent spirits, as all I really wanted was a glass of water and something to drink. They weren't in a big hurry to give me those things. They got me to my room that night about 530-600 and i was pretty much left to my own devices. I got to watch tv, and sleep, which my body desperately needed. Hopped up on morphine to stop the pain, and lots of other goodies to keep the spin from rooming, i was finally comfortable. D did an amazing job taking care of the arrangements for Jason for me, and a LOT of love goes out to my family for taking such great care of my baby while i was in the hospital. My stay could have been so much more stressful. I got to order dinner from a menu and "room service" brought it to me. Wasn't too shabby for hospital food! Momma and Yavne came to visit me, and came bearing flowers. It was nice to see that i was loved! :)

I got lots of rest that night, although i woke up at 330 that morning and couldn't fall back asleep. There are lots of things ailing me, so it can be hard to get comfortable. The next morning though, I got to see Jason, which really made things better. Somehow, his kisses are the cure for anything that ails me. 

They released my later that day, after i got to talk to the doctor again...and so, now I'm home. Its great to back with my family, i sure was lonely up there. The recovery process is going to be a long one, much longer than I think it would have been without all of the complications. My body is in the difficult process of rebuilding my blood count. I know, it sounds like something that my body should do automatically, and it does, but there's so been so much stress on it this month, that its having a hard time keeping up with EVERYTHING its having to do. I'm pretty frustrated with the way I'm feeling, even eating almost takes more energy than what I have. I'm not rushing things, because I know how fragile i am right now, but I'm surely ready to be done with this. 
          All the physical stress has taken the front seat, leaving my emotional issues behind a bit, which has been nice. It would certainly be harder to deal with all this if i was an emotional mess too. That's not to say I'm not feeling things, because I definitely am. I have this re-occurring dream which is basically just a rewind and repeat of the hospital visit where they told me there was no heartbeat. I break down, i cry, i lose it...and then i wake up. Its numbing, but I know I need to feel it. I have to. I've had a few calloused and insensitive people try to talk to me about what I'm feeling. I made the mistake the first time, but have yet to make it again. I don't care what my living, financial, or relationship status is, its never "better" when my child dies. And i understand that its one of those "comfort phrases" but i wish someone would tell people that it doesn't work. Telling me that my child is better off dead because my situation was less than ideal anyways , is a pretty asshole-ish thing to say. I'd really rather that you say nothing, than say something so thoughtless. I guess that's just another one of those things I can't control though. I'm not sure why, but every since i was about 4 weeks, i swore i was having a boy. That hasn't really changed. To this day, i still feel like he was a little boy. I choose not to give him a name, and refer to him as only "baby Gilman" because i can't be sure that he was a boy, its just what my heart tells me. And its funny because...as much as i wanted a little girl, i was SO thrilled to have him that even imagining he was a little boy, and dressing him in tiny, ever so soft and sweet baby boy clothes made my tummy flutter. I guess losing Bella taught me something about life...and about cherishing what you have. And now, my newest little angel taught me a similar lesson. 
          Night time now holds a different meaning for me. It is no longer a time just for sleep, and just for resting...its a time for reflection. On a warm, crisp, Arizona night, I can often look into the sky and feel like I could get lost. The sky goes on for miles, and I'm wrapped safe and soundly in a blanket of stars. The warm breeze kisses my skin, and I'm with them. The night is so clear and open that I feel like I can talk to them, and even see them if I look hard enough. The light twinkling of the stars around me give me pause...and as I tell them about my day, i imagine the twinkling is their laughter...and i laugh too. I imagine the stars are their eyes, shining back into mine, and telling me that they're close. I imagine that they're right there...and every night...when i step outside, they can see me....And perhaps...if that is true, then Heaven isn't really so far away after all. 

Faith, Love, And Remembrance.

The loss of a child, regardless whether during pregnancy, a stillbirth, or in the middle of life, is an exceptional experience. I can say, that in my experience, however limited, nothing in the world hurts worse. Its intimidating. Before I lost Bella, I never really knew what to say to people who were hurting. So i said what was standard-"i'm sorry", and i figured that would be enough. But to those who are reading this, those who are close to me, those who just don't know what to say, remember this. Say Anything. Say you're sorry. Say you care. Ask questions. Talk about it. The worst thing in the world to a grieving parent is the idea that their child, however small, may be forgotten. Say their names. On August 1st, a new movement will start. The Still Project focuses on saying it out loud. It focuses on the importance of talking about them, of forming a community, a network of parents, grieving, and allow us to talk about our Angels. Stay tuned for more updates on this movement, and how you can participate. It's difficult having a child you can't hold, but remember that once you're a parent, you never go back. Once you love, you can't undo it. Never be afraid to give life, to give memory to something that was once so important to us, and in a very different way, still is. You see, what appears to you on the outside, is not always what is fact, what is real. Sometimes, to keep from being a frustrated, depressing  mess, we have to hide. Sometimes, we have to be fake. In a world where so much is fake, it shouldn't be hard, but it is. Its hard to hide from what you want to show, hard to not allow yourself to be swallowed by the pain. And so we learn to cope, and it goes something like this: 
                   You see us smiling. What you don't see is that we are screaming behind that smile . You see us go on with  everything.....work...... groceries..... life in general. What you don't see is that it takes every ounce of energy we have just to breathe. You see us alone with our thoughts. What you don't see is us talking to them.  You see us say "I am fine". What you don't see is the huge hole in our hearts that can not be filled by this life. You see us and think "they're back to normal".  What you don't see is that there is no normal for us anymore. You see us and think , "Oh my, I hope this never happens to me", what you don't see is that as much as we long for you to understand us.... We hope this never happens to you either.   You see us joking and laughing with others and think they must be getting over what has happened.  What you don't see is that we can never forget, nor would we want to, you DON'T get over the loss of a child. You see us sad and don't know what to say so you keep going. What you don't see is all we really want is for you to GIVE us a hug and be there for us and CRY with us and LISTEN to us talk about our little angels. You see that life goes on. What you don't see is, on January 13, 2011, the life we had before that day will never be the same . You see that we are strong...... do not be deceived. What you don't see is that we are weak and weary; it is only by the strength of God that we can even function without them. Some days we are 6 feet from the edge.   What you see is a mask....a lie.  The mask helps you cope with us and us cope with ourselves. What you don't see is the raw, sometimes unbearable pain. You don't see us being unable to breathe, You don't see our despair. You don't see us screaming and crying to God, begging him for the strength to endure until we are with our sweet babies again.  What you don't see or hear is us longing for the day we see them and hold them in our arms. You don't see or hear us begging him to give us the faith and strength to make it to that day. What you don't see, you could never understand anyway, unless you walk a mile in our shoes........and we hope you never have to. However, what you DO see, is love. Our love for them, even in their deaths. And this...for now will have to be enough.
                 I hear more often that not, that I'm strong. I hear that I'm amazing. I hear that I'm special, and determined...and i may be all of those things, but the truth is, that it's only through amazing love, and amazing strength in our God that I function the way I do. You have to believe in something greater than yourself, and give your life fully to that hope, that prayer, that faith. Its easy to be angry with God, and I know that because I did it too. I cried, and screamed, and lost my mind. I hit rock bottom, and i HATED God. I asked him why i didn't get to hold her, why she never got to feel my kisses. Of course, he didn't answer...because regardless how much we'd like him to, God doesn't grab a cell phone, give you a call, and explain why things are the way they are. He didn't explain to me why he needed my daughter, and he didn't explain to me why, only a year later, he needed another one of my children. He just took. He took what he needed, and he trusted that I'd find faith, and that somehow, I'd understand. I was pretty sure I'd never figure it out, until the night that the boys broke Bella's snow globe. This was something I'd gotten for me just days after she died. And it comforted me. I'd wind it up, and let the music lull me to sleep through many a medicated night. It was my substitute for the daughter I'd never get to hold. (And...truth be told, it was unhealthy.) When it shattered into pieces, the water soaking my floor (and i do mean shattered) I LOST it, and that's probably putting it mildly. I screamed and cried, and hyperventilated, and in true OCD fashion, picked up EVERY last piece of star glitter from the floor of that carpet (i was there for hours) in an effort to make sure none of "her" got left behind. (I know, I know, but you do what you have to do to cope. I still have the stars though, so it wasn't for nothing.) It took that freak out for me to realize that i had to figure out what it was i believed in. And it was that night that i figured out what i needed. From the people in my life, and from the God that i worship. And rather than hating him, and cursing him, i began to thank him. For allowing me to be her mommy. For allowing me to carry her, for the time she was here. And he answered me, in the way that only God can, and made sense of my life, and allowed me to move forward, as I'd been begging to be able to do. And the medicines went away, and i smiled again. And because of that faith, because of what i learned, i know that will happen for me again. I have to believe that.

Today.

Walking into the doctors office today was surreal, to put in simply. As I walked in to the room, and signed in, the air was different. It was strained, it was tight...it was uncomfortable...and it hurt. All around me were women with their beautiful, glowing, pregnant bellies, waiting to go home with pictures of their growing little loves. Here I was, watching them, waiting in anticipation for one last look at my bean, the one that would never be. They were all about discretion though, which was one thing I was grateful for. They really cared about what I was going through, and they made it easy. The appointment itself though, was anything but easy. They took me back to the ultrasound room, and told me the drill. They gave me what i needed to get ready, and turned off the monitor on the way out. Nothing really hurts like that. Its...raw. You know they're trying to keep you from something you don't want to see when they turn that monitor off. But, we already knew that. When they came back in, they asked me how i was feeling, and i laughed a little and told them pregnant. I thought it was funny, but they didn't. I guess my attempt at lightening my already low mood didn't go so hot. They took some pictures and did some measurements, and then called the doctor in. He told us that nothing had changed, that our little one still didn't have a heartbeat. We weren't surprised by that information, but I'd be lying if I said I wasn't hopeful. (I find though, that that must come with the lack of symptoms, as I've never quite felt this confusion before.) I found myself drawn to the pictures though, HAVING to look at him, just one more time. And so I did...and found myself so completely in love, even still. I guess that's the thing about being a mother. Once you become one, you never really stop. And, although I knew it would hurt to see him, and know he wasn't moving, I had to. I had to see him again, I had to take in every detail I could (although, I know there wasn't much.) I think of it as the way I felt about Bella. Although the first time I ever laid eyes on her, she was already gone, I couldn't take my eyes off of her. I had to take her in, I had to remember every detail I could. And this was much the same. So I stared, for as long as I could, and marveled at how small and special my little baby was. And even if I never hold him, he's still mine.
     The doctor appointment went okay though, and they asked me how I was feeling again. I told them that i felt fine. Still no symptoms, still no pain, and we expressed to them that we didn't understand what was happening really. Obviously, the baby's heart wasn't beating, and we understood that, but why wasn't my body trying to get him out. They pretty much just told me that they didn't know, and they were curious about it too. They've given me a script for a medication that is designed to do that for me, and some painkillers for the terrible day I have ahead of me. I agreed to this because its the safest option (as far as getting pregnant in the future) and allows me to do most of the work myself, with a little help from this medication. Basically, I'll spend the next 2 days in "labor" and then it will be all done and over with. At least, the physical part of it. The emotional part of it has only just started, and will take some time, I imagine. D and I were talking earlier today about the way everything is going to happen, and I expressed to him my sole hesitation, and I know its silly, but I'll share it with you all too. Regardless how many ultrasounds I see, how much proof there is that they baby just isn't anymore, without my body reflecting that diagnosis, it's just really hard for me to believe it. Having said that, it's hard for me to agree to take this pill, knowing what it's going to do, knowing what its for (for those of you who DON'T know, its the same pill they use between 4-8 weeks in abortion clinics, because it can put even a body with no problems, no labor signs, no nothing, into complete and total labor, dilating cervix, the whole nine yards.) without FEELING like my baby is gone. I REALLY have to spend today getting in the right mind-set in order to make myself do this (because i KNOW deep down, that i have to, otherwise its going to hurt me in the long run). I'm pretty much just praying now for the strength to do it, and get through it...with as much grace as i can.
        Emotions are on high today. I'm dealing with the reality that this isn't going to go away, and no, i'm not going to wake up in the morning and have anyone tell me that they were wrong. This is what it is, and now I have to move forward. We got some information today though, that was a little hard to digest. Actually, it was a LOT hard to digest, and I'll say that it's probably 75% of the reason why i feel so down today. By the measurements, and the doctors most up to date information, our baby passed away on January 13, 2012. I'm not going to elaborate any further on that, those of you who know me, or pay any attention to my postings know why this is significant, and why it really really sucks. Its hard wrapping my head around that concept. It seems so cruel, and yet so very fitting. I'm not entirely sure exactly what to think, but I do know it hurts. So today, we hold on. We cry, we laugh, we remember, and we prepare. And tomorrow, we let go. We hold hands, look toward a better day, and remember all we have to gain. We mourn, and yet, we try again. We struggle, yet we are firm. Because whatever happens, we are a family. All 6 of us. Me, D, our two special boys, and the angels that guide us everyday. We know we'll get through it, one way or the other...because moving forward is the only option there is.
     

Choosing Hope

If you're here, then you are on my Facebook too, most likely, and if that's true, then you know that yesterday morning, we found out that our darling baby has gone to be with Jesus. I have had a HUGE outpouring of support and love, and lots of questions. The question I've had most so far, is...Why? And that's a hard question for me to hear, and even harder to answer because...we truthfully don't know why. The last time I posted a picture of my angel was at 7 weeks exactly, and 5 days later, she stopped growing. The doctors are puzzled, which puzzles me, and makes it that much harder to take in. When you look at the ultrasound, its pretty evident that there's no heartbeat. No mother wants to see that, but its definitely there. What you don't see though, is any evidence that anything else was wrong. Everything else was as it should have been, the pregnancy was healthy, but the baby didn't survive. This is hard for me to take in for a couple of reasons. How can a child, with a strong, steady heartbeat, with a perfect living environment, just cease to be? And there's still no answer really. I know I've spoken to a few of you in the past of my disdain for the VA hospital, and this time, I've had about all I can take. Weeks ago, i wrote about my condition, the anti-body they thought they found. This anti-body cuts off blood flow to the placenta, which, in turn, denies nutrients to the baby. They had me repeat the test in Week 4 of my pregnancy, with results that SHOULD have come back to us, at the very latest, in Week 6. As is typical of the VA, they didn't do their jobs, and as far as we knew yesterday, my Dr STILL hadn't received the repeat labs. Forgive me, but I have to imagine that since the disorder they THOUGHT i had denied nutrients to my child, and my child DIED as a result of lack of nutrients, something must have happened. Had we had those results from the VA when we were due to, MY doctors would have had me on the necessary medicine to prevent that. So, thank you VA, for completely screwing me up...again. D is pretty broken up, and ready for heads to roll, not so sure what will come of it yet though. There will be plenty more updates on that.
       The part of this that's the hardest is the lack of symptoms. By looking at me, you'd never know that i was having a miscarriage. No bleeding, no cramping, nothing like that. I'm just walking around with a baby that will never be. That's hard for me. Its hard to wrap my head around the fact that it wasn't all just a dream. I keep thinking I'm going to go in for another appointment, and they're going to tell me they were wrong. How can I have lost this baby, and never know it? They're going to leave me to my devices for a few days, and hope that i "have" her naturally, but it's not looking like that's going to happen. Its not seeming like my body is registering the loss. On Wednesday, I get to go back to the doctor, where they'll do lots of labs, and another ultrasound. They're asking me to mentally prepare for that, but I'm not really sure how to do that. An ultrasound is supposed to be exciting, a chance to see your growing child...but this...is different. Its a look inside of me, to find out what's there and what's not, and basically, an autopsy of my baby, from inside the womb. Jeez. Try making sense of that. Its not easy. They're wanting to avoid a D&C though, because each time you have to have one of those, it increases your chances for miscarrying in the future, and i really don't need any help with that. So, on Wednesday, we'll explore the options and try to figure out what the best plan of attack is. The doctors are pretty worried about infection at this point, since the baby has been in there for so long without life. Usually, by this point, my body would have started the process of "kicking it out", but it hasn't yet. (Don't worry, body...my mind hasn't either!) I'm really to the point though, that i just want it to be over. Well, that's not true. I WANT this to not be a reality at all, but since it is, I want it to just be over. Its hard to have closure and move forward when i dont FEEL any different, when its not obvious that something is wrong. I still FEEL pregnant. I still have constant morning sickness, and am tired all the time. I haven't changed any, and it's driving me nuts. I just want to get passed this part, so I can move forward.
           I've had a lot of people commend me for my strength. "I'm not sure how you're doing this with such grace, with such strength", is a sentence i heard and read a LOT yesterday. And my reason for it is this: Losing this baby was HARD. When the ultrasound tech told me that there was no heartbeat, it hit me like a ton of bricks. I was literally in shock, just because it was the LAST thing i expected. BUT-i wouldn't trade it, not even a minute of it. After Bella died, I had to take a long look in the mirror, and decide what my faith was. I had to decide what i believed in, and what i found was, i believe in Hope. This loss was tragic, and it was raw, and real, but i don't regret it. Carrying this baby was a blessing, for every second that i get to do it. God has a plan for her (him?), its just above my pay grade, and i know that. Losing Bella taught me that there HAS to be something else...i have to believe that. Because if there's not...then what is all this for? So i tell myself that there's a purpose, that there's a reason. And that God chose me as the vessel for these angels. He saw my strength, he saw my determination, he saw my faith, and he knew that when he took my children, that i would still have HOPE. That I would move forward, head held high, tears in my eyes, and look to the sky. And that i would know that it was all worth it, and would continue to be, whatever hardships i am faced with. And so we cry. We mourn, we scream, we ask "why?", and then we choose Hope. We stand up, dust ourselves off, and remember what all this is for. We give our lives, our fears, and our triumphs to God, and I know that he'll never steer us wrong. I HAVE to believe that. So Rest In Peace, Baby Gilman. You and your sister take care of each other, and do well whatever it was you were sent there to do. I was proud to carry you, proud to love you, and oh so proud to be your mommy.

Week 9 :)

Here we are in week 9, time is really flying by, its hard to wrap my head around it, really. I wish I could say that this week went by as uneventfully as last week, but things this week have been harder. I've been having some pretty intense cramping (sort of feels like labor, only toned down to about 6 or 7 from 10). This was pretty constant for 3 days or so, and i fought it with Tylenol, a heating pad, and stubborn emotions. Well into the fourth day though, my cramping found a friend, and i started spotting. Nothing too worrisome, but definitely evident. I blame myself for that though, I'd spent that whole day out with the imp, and then i went to the school to be a mom and be involved in the school activities. Definitely wasn't listening to the signs my body was trying to send me. I wasn't really worried though, until the fever started. It started strong at 100.5, and then tapered off, hanging out at about 99 for the rest of the night, and all day yesterday. After the temp started, D called the Dr, who ordered immediate and 24 hour bed-rest until they could see me at their clinic on Monday. He of course, asked them if we shouldn't go to the ER and they told him what we really already knew. The ER isn't going to do anything to try to help our baby, if something is wrong, and that's what we'd really be interested in, anyways. So we decided just to put me in bed, keep my feet up, and give me a few days to take a breather. They're expecting the symptoms to slow down, i'm assuming, and in some ways they are. Tomorrow, we'll go to the Dr and they'll take a look at the baby, just to make sure everyone is ok. Since we are into the second month, the placenta and everything is starting to form and THAT was our issue with Bells. I remember this feeling while being pregnant with her, and that worries me some. I keep it in the back of my mind though, and i just do what i'm told. I count myself lucky that this time we have a great doctor who is keeping a great eye on me, and on the baby. As hard as it is to be on bed-rest, i'd rather endure this than have to mourn the loss of another one of my children. I'm not sure i'd make it through that. So...we lay here. And we listen to music, and yesterday, I indulged in a total guilty pleasure of mine and watched "Full Throttle Saloon" ALLLL day long. Turns out, there are some perks to being on bed-rest! :)
         Other than that though, things have been going great. The boys are getting more and more excited about the baby. The imp keeps talking about the "ball" in my tummy, and my Troll is telling anyone who will listen to him that mommy has a baby in her tummy. All of the kids at his school on Friday were asking me about it. Its funny though, talking to small, inquisitive minds, and having to be super careful about what you say. Of course, they want to know how the baby got in my tummy: did i swallow it? (no, it doesn't quite work that way!) and how its going to come out?: Jason tells people its going to come out of my feet. I kind of hope he's right, i think that will hurt less in the long run! :) They want to know everything there is to know about having and making a baby, and its hard to answer their questions without giving away too much information on things that are simply not for children of their age. So i told them what everyone else tells them, that a stork brings the babies. The most adorable little girl i think I've ever seen walks up to me, sits down next to me, and says "oh. I get how this works now." and i said "ok, good." So she starts telling me a story. "So, the stork is up in the sky and he sees a mommy and a daddy who love each other and he gets to decide when to give them a baby. And sometimes they get a baby when they didn't really want a baby and that's whats called a "surprise" but the stork brings the baby anyways, and swoops down from the sky and leaves it in the hostible with mommy's name on it, and so mommy can take it home. Sometimes though, the mommy and daddy want the baby, and then that's the kind that's planned. And the stork comes down from the sky and drops the baby on mommy and daddy's doorstep for them to find and they're really happy."  So, I'm listening to this little girl's story, laughing softly at how insanely cute she is, and i say "that sounds about right." She had it all figured out, i couldn't really ruin it for her. And just when i thought i was off the hook, she looks at my tummy again and says "but wait. How does the stork get the baby into your tummy, and how does he get it out?" And the little boy sitting next to her says, in the most serious voice: "he has to be magic. how else would he come up with all these babies?" she seemed satisfied with that answer, and they both wanted to touch my tummy. They were pretty excited. They asked me to come back again when my tummy was bigger so they could feel the baby move, and to PLEASE bring her in to see them when the stork drops her off. It was really a lot of fun, and so innocent.
          Well, that's all for now, I'll write either tomorrow or the next day and let everyone know what happened at the appointment, and how our little lovebug is doing. Thanks so much for all the love, support, and well wishes. I couldn't get through this without you.

Dear Isabella

Happy Birthday Bells!

       Today has already been a pretty rough one for mommy. There are a lot of people who are thinking about you today, which makes me very happy. My mission, after your death, was to be sure you were never forgotten. To keep you an active part of my life and my family, and today, I know for sure that I have succeeded, at the very least, in that. There is really no way for me to deal with what I'm feeling today, except for to just feel it. I let the tears flow when they need to flow, and I hold tight to the few memories that I do have, the ones that keep you alive in my mind. I take comfort in knowing that you are safe, and warm, and I tell myself that you are being cradled in the arms of the Lord, and that's enough to make me smile. Still though, today was full of "what should have been". I found myself thinking of your kicks, the way my bowl of strawberries and cream cheese would shift with your movements, and how I'd smile knowing you were in there, enjoying your snack. This morning, early, when it was just a minute after Midnight, Daddy and I listened to "Bella's Lullaby", as we often do when we want to remember you. As we listened, I was absent-minded and nibbled on strawberries and cream cheese, not even realizing how funny that was. 
        We started the morning off by buying you birthday balloons, a stuffed bear, and some bubbles. Balloons to heaven are important to me, but you know how much the bubbles mean to your brothers. There were very mixed emotions throughout the day, I had my ups, and then i had my DOWNS. And my downs were very low. At the store, I saw a shirt that said "My first birthday", and I lost it. Those are the sorts of things that I'd be buying for you today, the celebration we'd be having. It hit me like a ton of bricks...you're really not here. From that point on, I was pretty determined that we weren't going to mourn you today, instead, we were going to celebrate you. Celebrate the life that was, however short, and know that, for whatever reason, God wanted you close to him. While i find it rather unfair, i also find it to be flattering. How special you must be that God chose you to remain by his side! That thought makes me smile often. Mommy made you a birthday present to hang on the wall, really just to make me feel better, but I loved how it came out, anyways. 

I have to say, I'm pretty proud of it. I know its silly, but it's just a little something to remind you that i love you, and that i'm thinking of you. We all celebrated today, each in our own special way. Your daddy took it harder that i really expected he was going to, your daddy always seems so strong. He constantly holds me while i cry for you, and makes me feel like everything is going to be okay, it was a change to be the one that gets to comfort and hold him. He was in charge of handing out your balloons, just as he did at your memorial service. It was all pretty special. 

Each of your brother's got to let go of a balloon, and I hope they made it up there to you. Jason insisted on the purple one, because he says thats the one you would have liked the best. Logan's was white, with little hearts and Bells on it, which we figured was fitting for you. They both had so much fun sending your balloons to you. Logan threw his up to you, while Jason just sent his up slowly, with love. I could really tell he knew what we were doing it for. 

They released a 3rd balloon together, on behalf of your little brother or sister, whom we have yet to meet, and then they watched it float up to you. Your big brother Jason said "Happy Birthday Bella!" as the balloon floated away, and he watched it as long as he could. I guess this is probably when i started crying. They're so young, and yet even they know what you mean to us. 

After that, Daddy and I got to release our balloons, and we both talked to you a little before we did that. Somehow, i know you could hear what we were saying. Yesterday, the sky was so blue, i felt like i could see you if i looked hard enough, and i tried and tried...for a minute there, i almost thought i did. As i was sending off your balloon, i closed my eyes, and went to a different place. In this place, you were smiling, you were happy, and you were older. Beautiful brown hair, fiery green eyes, you were everything i hoped you'd be. Bright, soft lips, and a mischevious smile, you ran around in a park. A pretty purple summer dress kissed your skin, and the sunshine bounced off your hair. Your little white Mary Jane's made a soft pitter patter on the rocks, and i was there with you. Calling your name, stealing your kisses, and feeling your touch. For a minute, your birthday was everything it should have been....for a minute. 

Once the balloons were all safely on their way to Heaven, we blew bubbles. We all had fun doing that. Logan was trying to chase them, and Jason was upset that they were going down rather than up, but i assured him that you were getting them anyways. 

We ended our celebration with special just for your birthday cupcakes. I tried something different, and made a Fruity Pebble cupcake, and it was YUMMY! Nana says its fitting because you'd have been firey redhead JUST like Pebbles Flinstone. I like to think she's right. :) 

    Today was hard, baby girl, and it made me realize just how much i miss you, and how much i'm missing out on. It also taught me, though, that you can still make memories, and have celebrations for those who can't be with you, as I'm sure you do up there everyday. You are my special girl, my only daughter, and i am SO proud to be your mommy. Not everyone in the world gets to say that their daughter is an angel, and I'm proud of mine. Everyday, I could myself lucky to be the mommy of the brightest star in the sky. Happy Birthday and Angelversary Baby Girl. You are loved and missed, and mourned. But even more than that, you are celebrated. Thanks for Being. 

Love, 
Mommy

Conflict

This last week or so has had the topic of pregnancy on my mind, EVERYONE I know is pregnant. Seriously, its like...there's something in the water ALL over the world, so if you don't want a baby, DON'T drink it. In light of the new pregnancy in our house, and all of the complications and less than positive news from the doctor, its been put to us that this could very possibly be the last child i ever get to have. (and that's assuming of course, as we're doing, that this baby makes it to term, and comes out happy and healthy). While i think that 3 children is plenty, and don't really see a need for any more than that, I'm nervous about how I'll feel when the time comes to make that decision. Ever since i was of child rearing age, and probably before that, I've prayed for a baby girl. Someone to share secrets with me, to have the relationship with her that i always had with my Momma (well, both of them, really). So--what freaks me out is, if this child is a boy, and i can't have any other children, then i know that as much as i love my babies, i am always going to feel like something is missing...something isn't right. I know that part of that comes from the loss of Bells that i feel EVERYDAY. The baby girl i wanted, and DID have, but lost. Its a hard thing to try to wrap my head around. If this one should happen to be a girl, I'm pretty confident in my decision to have my tubes tied. Its a hard thing though, knowing that there's never an option. Its really one of those things where you just don't know what the right decision is. I guess my problem with it is, I don't like the idea of the finality of it all. Of actually knowing that regardless whether we wake up one day, in an amazing financial situation, and want to add to our family, we can't. On the other hand though, I DO understand how complicated this pregnancy is going to be, and all subsequent pregnancies...and that gives me pause as well. I have 2 beautiful boys, and another little one on the way who are very much going to need their mommy. If this one is a boy, is shooting for a girl worth the possibility that something could happen to me, and these babies could lose the their mommy? Absolutely not. So, its pretty complicated. 
               Mostly, right now though, I'm just trying to enjoy this pregnancy, knowing that it could be the last one. Its still very early in the pregnancy, so not much is going on besides discomfort, but regardless, I'm cherishing the feeling that there is someone growing inside of me. I look forward to the days of soft kicks, and then harder kicks, and then watching his kicks as he looks as though he's going to claw his way out. I look forward to the day i see whether he is a he or a she, and spreading the news with everyone i love. I look forward to shopping for the baby clothes, and tiny little baby socks, and learning to be a better mommy everyday. More than that though, i especially look forward to watching my two little guys, and the AMAZING big brother's they are going to be. My troll has a heart so full of love, ready to love anyone and anything that loves him too. And my imp, well, he's a playful little guy,  and i just know he'll be teaching the new baby all the ways to soften mommy up. :) I can't wait to see them grow together. Well, i suppose that's it for now. I'll be back again tomorrow to do my memorial to Bells for her first birthday, I'm NOT looking forward to that. :( Until then! <3

Week 8 Updates

Well, here we are again! This week's appointment went well, although there was some concerning news from the doctor again. Seems like we keep finding things that are wrong with mommy, but baby is doing JUST fine. All we have to do is work on getting ME figured out. This last week, I've been having SERIOUS issues with dizziness and light-headedness. The doctor checked my blood sugar, and it was fine, although a little low for me, and recommended that i buy a glucose checker to keep up with it myself. I think i'll be doing that. She wrote me a script for some medicines to help manage those feelings, but let me know that they're going to make me pretty tired. Like I don't have enough issues with that as it is. The baby's heartbeat is a steady and strong 125, and that's fantastic for the gestational age. We get to see the gentle beating each time we see him (her?), but we wont get to hear it until mid February. We're just thrilled at this point that everything is increasing, and doing just what its supposed to. I'd like to think Bells has a hand in that. Other than that though, not much else to report. We won't have to see the doctor again until February, at our 11 week mark, which is JUST fine with us, it means our little love is doing BEAUTIFULLY. We did another ultrasound, and got to see our baby. Still a teeny-tiny little thing, but getting bigger everyday. 

Still a little dot in the middle of the black dot, but getting bigger!

Things around the house have been going well. Its hard to live in a house with 3 different families, and tensions can be high at times, but we make it work, and we do it together. We've already decided on baby names for the little one, which I'll reveal a little later. So many people are pregnant right now, I'm trying not to give away my names, ESPECIALLY since i suspect a few people will like the ones I've picked, AND are due before me. I don't like to name my babies something my friends have named theirs. It confuses things. lol. I've been having a little discomfort, but its nothing really that i'm concerned about, and the doctors don't seem to be either. I've pretty much just resigned myself to the fact that this is going to be a HARD pregnancy, but as it could very well be my LAST pregnancy, I am going to embrace it, and enjoy it, and look toward the future and the beautiful baby that i'll be holding when all is said and done. I'll be elaborating more on this topic later this week, for those who care to view my thoughts. As far as the boys go, they are VERY happy about the new addition to our family. My Imp isn't as sure about what's going on, mostly he just points to my belly and says baby because he's seen his brother do it. My Troll, however, is SO excited about his new little brother or sister. He tells pretty much everyone who will listen. As I'm sure I already told everyone, the Dr gave him his very own picture at our first ultrasound, and he carried it all over the place. Tonight though, I found him spending time with his new little brother or sister in a whole different way. 

Sleeping With "His Baby"

This little boy has embraced this baby with EVERYTHING his little heart has, and everyday he asks me how much longer until his baby comes out of my tummy. He's such a little sweetheart, and makes every little part of my life that much better just by being in it. Well, I'm going to wrap this one up here for right now, I'll be back later this week to blog again. :) 

Baby News-Week 7

Well, I forgot to check back in with you guys after my last appointment on Friday. We got lots of good news, and even got to see our little love. They took measurements, and lots of pictures and did tons of looking around and found us to be a week LESS than they told us we were. Too crazy! So we're sliding into our seventh week NOW, and we're just taking things easy. When we saw the Dr, we got some ideas about the way things at this clinic would be handled, and I'm not sure I'm comfortable with it, but we'll see. One of the big things about it that's bothering me, is that I will not see the same doctor more than once or twice. The reason for this is that there are a number of different doctors on call on different nights, so the night that the baby decides to come, there's really no telling who will deliver him (her?). I don't like the uncertainty of whether or not we'll have a midwife or a doctor, or ya know, just some random person off the street. (yea yea, dramatic i know!) With my previous pregnancies, i had a regular doctor that i saw, so i knew who was going to be delivering my baby. i think that makes for a far smoother birthing experience, and I'm unsure and unhappy about this one. I guess we'll see what can be done about it though. As far as I go, I'm not gaining pregnancy weight yet, although that's not to say that there isn't weight being gained. LOL. I'm eating everything that comes into sight. :) Because I'm so high risk, they're recommending that i not to do anything more intense than walking around the block, which means i'm not likely to lose much weight this time around. It also means i better lay off the ho-ho's, otherwise i'm going to be 500 lbs, delivering a 16lb baby. LOL. And that, my friends, is not ok with me. :) The OB doctor who saw me has recommended that I start taking baby aspirin once a day to counteract the effects of the anti-body that they THINK they see. What they THINK they see is Lupus Anti-coagulant Antibodies. This anti-body causes tiny blood clots that can result in pregnancy complications and miscarriage. They'll have me on baby aspirin until the blood work comes back that either confirms or denies what they believe is going on. If its confirmed, they'll start me on low does Heparin which will continue for the duration of my pregnancy. They'll also continue to monitor me and the baby closely, which so far, they seem to be doing anyways. So we're crossing our fingers that everything comes back OK, but if it doesn't, we're going to take all the necessary steps to make sure our little sweetheart is taken care of the best we can. There's really not much to see at this stage in the pregnancy. They measure our sweet baby at 6 weeks exactly at the ultrasound, and printed a few pictures for us. The troll even got a special big brother picture that is all his own that he can do with what he pleases. He's pretty proud of it, and shows it to EVERYONE. He's going to be such a great older brother (he already is! ) Its so crazy to see such a small thing though, it makes me marvel in the human body.

Yep, we think its pretty amazing, and I'm sure as our little one continues to grow and take up space in mommy's tummy, we will be all that much more fascinated. My troll and my Imp are very interested and very engaged in the whole thing, and I'm so proud of them for being such big boys and such great brothers. I'm excited to see how the whole thing plays out. My little Imp always insists that we stop by the baby room at school so he can look in the window and see the little babies. He'll point and tell me stories about the people in there and what they're doing. I just know he's going to be so interested and thrilled when he has one of his own to play with. Well, there's not much else to report, I'll be going back to the doctor on Friday, to get some more information on this condition and see what we need to do about it, I'll be updating sometime next week for those of you who want to know. Until then, lots of love from us!