Thursday, April 24, 2008

It's been a month

since I looked at the ultrasound screen and said to the dr. "He's not moving, is he? And there isn't any heartbeat." And the dr. said "I'm sorry, but he is gone."

I have days, I wouldn't quite call them good, but I'm managing o.k., and then wham! I'll have a day where I seriously feel like I'm losing my mind.

I keep trying to rationalize the loss to myself - telling me that it would have been worse if it had been our first child, it would have been worse if it was our first and only chance at having a child, it would have been worse if I would have been farther along, it would have been worse to lose a child when they were 5 or whatever. Which is likely very true. But honestly, it really is only serving to make me feel guilty about feeling this loss as strongly as I do.

I did go to the cemetary on Saturday. I took the girls. They had been asking a lot of questions, and I thought it might help them. They were very sweet. They gathered some wild flowers and put them on the dirt in front of the marker. And then they kissed the marker and then sent kisses up to the sky. We looked at some of the other markers in the area (he is buried in a section that is just for infants) and E looked down at the one that is next to Christopher's and said "Why does this one still have a big bunch of flowers on it?" I said that another little boy had died, probably just a few days ago and the flowers were from his funeral. E looked up and said "I'm going to blow some kisses up to heaven for him too, and for his mommy because she is probably sad too." I'm sure she is.

I'm sure I sound like a broken record, but it has been so tough to be trying to deal with the loss of Christopher while also grieving the loss of never having any more children, ALONG with the unfairness of having to deal with infertility and miscarriages during the time that I was trying to have children. Oh, and let's not forget the unfairness that I didn't get married until I was almost 29 because my first love was killed in an accident, and so I wasn't able to get started on having a family until I was in my 30s.

To depress myself the other day, I started thinking about what my family would have been like if every pregnancy that I'd had would have gone to term and I would have had a baby. I would have had a baby that was born in October 1998, September 1999 (This is K), December 2001 (This is E), June 2003, September 2004 (This is S), March 2007, and August 2008. I would have had 7 children, 9 1/2 years old to newborn.

Oh, and in case any of you are worried about my mental health, first of all, I do use this blog to get my thoughts out and so things always look a little bleaker in print than how I'm actually doing. Second of all, I have decided to go see a counselor. I wasn't going, because I couldn't see how it was going to help. I was depressed/anxious, etc. because of the situation, and there wasn't that anybody could do or any amount of talking that was going to fix it. But I think that it might be good to just vent to someone for a little while.

But man, how I wish there was a way to go back a month, and fix it so Christopher was still rolling around and kicking inside my belly.

-Andie

Thursday, April 17, 2008

It's so real today

It's been three weeks since I found out his little heart wasn't beating anymore. I'm actually functioning better than I was last week, but my heart is just really realizing today that he is really, really gone today. I'm just SO SAD. Not to mention, the kids have all been sad about it the past couple days after not talking about it much since it happened (well, with the exception of S. He talks almost daily about how he is going to put on his Super Cape and go get the baby and bring him back - oh, if only it was that easy.)

There have been other reminders today - Today, I looked at myself in the mirror and I don't look pregnant anymore. Today, my pre-pregnancy clothes fit again. Today was the first day we didn't get any sympathy cards in the mail. And the cemetary called and said that his permanent grave marker was placed today.

- Andie

Tuesday, April 15, 2008

Oh, I miss him

I just wish I was still pregnant with him today. It just hurts so much to know that he isn't inside me anymore. I'm so sad that S won't get to be an older brother to his little brother. I'm so sad that I won't get to hold Christopher and rock him, feed him, and take care of him.

I have regrets today too - I feel bad that I didn't hold him longer. I'm really sad that I didn't have the nurses take a picture of me holding him. I'm sad that we didn't take any pictures of our own - of his perfect little feet, or his perfect little hands, of his daddy looking at his youngest son.

I wish I could feel his kicks inside me. I wish I could see my stomach getting bigger. I wish I needed to buy maternity clothes, and a car seat, and a crib and diapers. I wish I was still pregnant with him.

- Andie

Monday, April 14, 2008

Life never goes according to plans - part 2

I mentioned Part 1 in one of my posts below - I had a boyfriend in high school and I assumed that I would marry him when I was 20, and we would have four kids, and be blissfully happy and live happily ever after. I know now that that the blissfully happy probably wouldn't have been true all the time, but I really thought that all the the other stuff was possible, even probable. Then when I was 18, two weeks into my freshman year of college, he was killed in a bicycle/car accident. My life plan died with him. For years, I didn't know what to do because I just wanted to fix things so that I could have my original plan work.

But after ten years, I decided that since I couldn't fix things to bring my boyfriend back, I would just change my plan so that I would never get married and have any kids. Two weeks later, I met my husband, and we were married a year later. I was almost 29 when we got married. So the plan was changed a little, but I had found a wonderful man, and I was still relatively young, and I could still have those 4 kids and be blissfully happy and live happily after. So here's where part 2 began.

We got married during the summer of 1995. We decided to wait a year to try and start a family, and it turned into almost 2. In June 1997, I went to my GYN for my yearly appointment, and told him that we were going to start trying to conceive. I was not quite 31. I asked the dr. if he had anything that I should be doing/not doing to optimize our chances, and he just patted me on the head (he actually did!) and told me that he was sure that we would be pregnant within a few months and not to worry. Six months later, I was not pregnant and starting to get worried. We had just moved and both of has new jobs. I decided to wait until after the holidays and find a new GYN and find out if we needed to start any testing or anything. I had an appointment for early March of 1998. Well, in early February 1998, I was late. I took a test. Negative. OK. No big deal. A week later, I was still late. Took another test. Negative. Annoying, but I figured that I would just talk to my dr. at the appointment in a couple weeks. A week later, I was still late. I took another test and it was positive. I didn't think anything about the fact that I was three weeks late before I got a test. I just assumed everything was fine, and called my husband and told him that we were going to have a baby in 9 months. We called everything and told them about the pregnancy. A week later, I had a miscarriage. I couldn't believe it. I mean, I knew that my mom had had miscarriages, but she had always had "female" problems, and I had always been totally normal.

I spent the rest of 1998 being obsessed with getting pregnant again. We discovered that both my husband and I had some issues, but we had conceived on our own, so it was possible that we would be able to conceive on our own again, but it may just take time. I didn't want to wait any longer. My dr. said that we could try artificial insemination for a month, and then the following month, she would send us to a specialist to see if she wanted to do further testing and possibly more intensive fertility treatment. We tried a couple of inseminations in December 1998, and lo and behold, I got pregnant! I was really nervous during K's pregnancy, but it was a normal pregnancy, and she was born at 40 weeks, 3 days in September 1999.

We started trying naturally for another child almost right away. When K was 13 months old, we decided to visit the fertility specialist to see about doing another artificial insemination (AI). We tried a couple in October 2000. Negative. I was surprised because I figured that since it happened right away with K, it would happen right away when we tried again. We tried a couple AIs in December 2000 along with a low dose of a fertility medication (Clomid). Negative. In January, we tried AIs with a higher dose of Clomid. Negative. Wow. I always wanted to have 4 children. Was K just going to be our miraculous, only child? We asked our fertility specialist about doing in vitro (IVF). Our insurance would pay for almost all of it THANKFULLY, and the chances were higher of us being successful with IVF than AI. The specialist agreed and we started meds (lots and lots of them) in February 2001. We did the retrieval in late March 2001. We didn't end up with a lot of eggs, and then they didn't divide well. The dr. didn't think that the cycle was going to work. She had so little faith in the cycle that she decided to put 3 eggs back in, which she usually never does in a patient of my age (34 at the time). But I did get pregnant. E's pregnancy was not a normal pregnancy. There were bleeding episodes, and I went into pre-term labor at 29 weeks. I had hospital bedrest and home bedrest, but she was born at 40 weeks in December 2001, completely healthy. Wow, two healthy children!

We decided that we wouldn't try and prevent a future pregnancy, but our insurance had changed and we no longer had infertility coverage, and we didn't want to go through all rollercoaster of fertility treatments any more either. I still hoped that we would have another, but really tried to accept that perhaps my plan of 4 children wasn't going to happen.

I got pregnant when E was 8 months old. Wow, all this trouble get pregnant before, and now I would have children that were 17 months apart. A week later, I miscarried.

By December 2003, E was 2, and I was 37, I told myself that I was going to have to live with a different plan. I gave everything baby away except for the high chair and crib because E was still using them. I found out I was pregnant. I just assumed that I would miscarry. I always miscarried if I conceived naturally. I made it to 5 weeks, 7 weeks, and then the bleeding problems started. There was a problem with my placenta. Things would probably resolve on its own. I wasn't convinced. I made it to 13 weeks. OK, it was the second trimester, I think I'm going to have this baby. I had pre-term labor again, more bedrest. But lasted until 40 weeks 3 days and had a normaly healthy baby. However, it was discovered at delivery that he had a true knot in his cord. The dr. said that we were really lucky that he made it. I had 3 children! And S had come to us without any medical help! I would just be thankful. Who cares about my plan for 4 children?

As the months went by, I was grateful and thankful for my three children. But there was still moments where I would see families with four children and have little pangs. But it would pass. I was lucky. Most of my friends had had two or three children. They had had them easily. We had really had to work to have our three children. It really was amazing that we had three.

Then in July 2006, when S was almost 2, I was late. It just couldn't be true. I was almost 40. We had fertility problems. But sure enough, I was pregnant. The bleeding and placenta problems started at around 8 weeks. But I told myself that I had problems with S's pregnancy, but it had turned out o.k. My natural conceptions that ended in miscarriages all happened before 8 weeks. Everything would be fine. More bleeding problems at 10 weeks. But the baby looked fine. Did the nuchal fold test at 11 weeks. The baby wasn't in a great position, so they wanted to check it in a couple of weeks. Another bleeding episode at 12 weeks 5 days. I went in for an ultrasound and the baby's heart had stopped beating. WHAT????? How could this be? I was past all my miscarriage dates. I was almost in the 2nd trimester. Everything that I read said that if you see a heartbeat at 7 weeks (which we did) that your chances go down to less than 5% that you will have a miscarriage.

I was a mess for about a year. I couldn't believe that I had finally gotten myself used to the idea of not having 4 children, THEN to get pregnant, only to lose it at almost 13 weeks. But by the fall of 2007, I was doing o.k. again. I had finally really accepted that my plan of four kids wasn't going to happen. I really enjoyed being with my three wonderful children. My life was busy with all of their activities, I was doing a little daycare, and I was starting my fifth year of teaching preschool.

And in December 2007, I found out I was pregnant with Christopher.

Now, PLEASE don't think that I just kept getting pregnant to fulfill this dream of having four children and that my children are just numbers or physical representations of what I think is an ideal family size. Please don't think that I kept getting pregnant to replace the babies that I lost. But I can't be the only one who has plans and dreams about how their life is going to go. And it seems like so many times in my life that I've been so close to getting to have that dream, and then it is so tragically snatched away. And for me, it is so hard for me when I finally realize that I have come to the end of a path, and that there is no way to really fix things so that the plan will work.

I know I'm not the only one who has to learn to live with different life plans, and different paths. I know that life almost never goes according to plan, mine or anybody else's. I know that life usually isn't easy, and that it is mostly just about getting through, hopefully with lots of help from your family and friends. I believe that you have to have sadness so that you can have joy, and that if things were were always easy, you would never truly appreciate all that you really have.

But right now, it really does seem like I've had more than my fair share of sadness and trials. And it is hard for me to know that there will likely be more sadness, trials and broken dreams in my future. But hopefully, a little happiness too. Hopefully.

- Andie

Sunday, April 13, 2008

Bad, bad days

Yesterday was really bad. Today is bad too. I'm sad about Christopher, but it is more than that. I'm just so sad about so many things in my life are hard and complicated. They've been like this for so long, and now with Christopher, it just feels like there will never be anything good to look forward to. And I'm just so afraid that I'm just going to feel like this for years and years.

-Andie

Thursday, April 10, 2008

It has been two weeks

I found out two weeks ago that Christopher was gone. It seems like just a moment ago, yet so long ago too.

I'm getting better about getting through the days. I think my kids think that I'm back to normal. I haven't been crying much the past few days. But I still feel like it is going to be a long time before I feel anything close to happiness though.

On Monday, if I was still pregnant, I would be 20 weeks. I would have been half way through. When I think about that, it makes it seem like I was pregnant with Christopher for such a short time, but it felt like time went by so slowly, mostly because I was worried for so much of his pregnancy, and waiting to pass milestones, and waiting for test results. But even with all the worrying, and I'm sure if I was still pregnant, I'd still be really worried, up until the day that I gave birth to a normal, healthy, live baby, I'd still go back to the worrying if it would change the outcome.

I am trying to decide what to do, support-wise, to get through my grief. My husband is letting me talk to him whenever I need to, and that is really helpful. I'll probably go to the hospital support group for another month or so, but I do feel kind of out of place there since I will not be having any more children or adopting or anything and all the other women there are still interested in trying to have more children, or are currently pregnant again. I do have family and friends that I can talk to, but besides my husband, I just don't really feel comfortable talking about it anymore. I could talk to a therapist, but it is really complictated to work it out with my schedule, and honestly, I just don't see it doing a lot of good because I am just sad about losing Christopher, and the only thing that is going to make me feel better right now is to be pregnant again with him, and that can't happen. So I think I'm going to just have to just keep going, trying to get through each day, the best way I can. Some days will be bad, some will be o.k., and I'm sure I'll have some just horrible days out of the blue too. Maybe some days, in awhile, will even be good. I've already had a couple of moments that made me smile in the last few days, so I think it is possible. Which I guess is hope enough for right now.

-Andie

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

I'm doing a little better today

I had a talk with my husband yesterday and it helped a little. He talked to me about how much our living children need me. He talked to me about how if I just get lost in Christopher's death and do nothing, or just sleep, or just stop putting forth any effort, a year will pass, 5 years will pass, and I'll be at the same place, Christopher still won't be here, but I will have lost so many opportunities with our living children. And he is right. Even though all I want to do is just crawl in a hole and never have to interact with anyone, he is right. If I do crawl in that hole, it will just be a year, two, five years later, and my living children will have missed having ME during that time. And even though I'm not convinced that I'm a very good mother, I am THEIR mother, and I can start trying to do better now. I also need to show them that I can make it through this, so that when something bad happens in their life (which unfortunately something will), they will see that I had the strength to make it, and maybe it will give them some strength to make it through their challenges.

I still wish it had been different. I will always wish that Christopher could have been born healthy and normal in August, and could have joined our family here on earth. I still miss him a lot.

-Andie

Monday, April 07, 2008

I slept for about 22 hours yesterday

I got up with the kids at 7 am, laid down on the couch at 9 am and slept while they played, had them wake up my husband at 12 to get them lunch, continued sleeping on the couch until almost 4, then went upstairs and slept from 4 pm until 6:30 am this morning. My eyes are so puffy this morning that I can hardly see. I could still sleep more, but my daycare kids were back today, so I have to function until at least 5 pm today. Preschool starts again tomorrow. Playgroup is on Wednesday, but I don't think we will go. I'm not ready to face everyone yet and act like nothing has happened. The problem is that I don't know that I'll ever be ready.

I feel guilty that I'm so affected by this loss. I mean, I was personally devestated by my loss in 2006, and it strongly affected my faith, and I was really sad, but I didn't think that much about missing the baby. I was sad after my first one, but I was mostly sad because it took almost a year to conceive again and I was convinced that I would never have any children. I am sad this time too, but mostly, I just miss Christopher, and am just so sad that he won't be part of our family. I can hardly face each day because it means that my other children are a day older, and a day less from needing me so much. I know that children can't stay small forever, but now that I won't have a baby around, it is just somehow just really painful to see how far the others are from being little babies. And I can hardly face knowing that time will go by so fast, and I'll be thinking "Christopher would be 3, he would be 10, he would be graduating from high school."

And I know it will go fast. I had a boyfriend all through high school. It wasn't a traditional romance because we lived in different cities and I only saw him once or twice a month. But from the moment I met him the summer that I was 13, almost 14, we just had a connection. I liked him in a romantic, school girl sort of way, of course, but there was always something else. He was a year older than I was. The year I went to college, he left to go on a mission for our church. I had been at school for two weeks, I got a phone call from my parents. They told me that they needed me to come home (they lived nearby) because they had some serious news to tell me. When I got home, they told me that he had been involved in a bicycle/car accident and that he had died. My world crumbled. I had always assumed that we would get married and have a bunch of kids and live happily after. My life plan was destroyed. I cried every day for two years. I hardly dated for the next 10 years. Then I met my husband and got married a week before I turned 29. Now I'm 41. It's been over 23 years since my boyfriend died. Months go by without me thinking about him. But it just seems amazing that it has been that long since he died. I know that I'll just turn around and it will be 10 years since Christopher died.

I'm tired again. But I need to take care of the daycare kids and S. So I guess I'll go do that.

-Andie

Saturday, April 05, 2008

Here's a copy of an e-mail I sent to another friend today

They (the flowers) did arrive last night. Thank you SO much. Purple roses have always been my favorite roses, but I knew that you probably didn't know that, so it was extra touching to me that they were purple. Someone gave me a rose bush plant a few years ago, and it blooms purple roses, so now those roses will help remind me of him every Spring.

I feel so lost, which I know is normal, but I just don't know what to do with myself. I feel like I'm always going to feel so empty without him. I feel like I will always wonder what he would have been like, what he would have been doing. It seems like everyone I know who has lost a baby at this stage or after (which sadly, I know too many) they all went on to have another child afterwards. I don't want to have another, and I'm too old to have another, and I just couldn't make it through another pregnancy. And I don't think that people who have another child are doing it to replace the child that they lost, but I do think that it must help take at least a little of the pain away. And I will never have that. We will never have another child. We won't adopt. And really, all I want is Christopher back anyway.

I don't know what to do with my faith either. Last time I had a miscarriage, I was convinced that there was no God and there was no meaning to life. I gradually started feeling like there was a God and that there were parts of my faith that I did believe in. Not all of it, but enough to keep me going to church, and I felt like it was helping me live a good moral life, and teaching the children good values. And now this. I've prayed a lot over the years, and never felt like my prayers were answered. During this pregnancy, I prayed more than I have ever prayed before. At the beginning, I prayed "Please bless that this child is chromosomally normal, but if it is not, please let me lose it early." I know that it sounds awful to pray like that, but it is what I wanted. Then when there was the chromosome scare, I couldn't believe that it was happening, but I held on to the hope that I had been praying for me to lose it early if it was a chromosome problem, so maybe everything was o.k. And then he didn't have a chromosome problem. I thought that my prayers had been answered. For once. Even though I had never really felt there had been any connection when I was praying, even during this time that I had been praying so hard, he HAD been listening. I, of course, thanked him, but the next few days, I only prayed once a day. Until the day that I tried to find his heartbeat. Then I just kept praying "Please let him be o.k., please let him be o.k., please let him be o.k." And he wasn't o.k. I don't believe that God can change chromosomes, so if he had had trisomy 18, I don't believe that he could have fixed it, but I do (or maybe I did) believe that he could fix a placenta problem, or a heart problem. And he didn't. So here I feel stuck feeling like there probably is a God, and that there probably is a life after this one, and I feel like there are good values taught at my church, but I feel like that that God doesn't seem to care about me personally.

I almost can't believe that I have three living children. Knowing what I know now, it seems astounding that I was able to have any living children, much less three. And S, our only living child that came to us without any medical help. He is so amazing to me now. But sometimes I feel bad that I am feeling so low now about losing Christopher, when I have three children already.

I don't know. I could go on forever. I know that things will be less intense as the days go by. I know I will find a place where I miss him, but I'm not consumed by feelings of grief. But I'll never find that place where I get to have him back, and that pain just hurts SO much.

- Andie

Here's a copy of an e-mail I sent to a friend yesterday

I don't feel up to writing it all out again, but it says what I'm feeling right now.
------------------------

I am having an angry day today. First day that I haven't sobbed constantly. I just can't stop thinking though that it doesn't really matter what I do, nothing will change what happened. I'm not saying that I am not grieving because of it, or that I'm trying to rush the grief process, but all I want is something to just fix everything and make it so that I can be pregnant again with Christopher and be able to watch him grow up. And I know that there is NO way for that to happen.

But I'm just so angry that this had to happen to us TWICE. And this time, we had almost made it halfway, and we had JUST found out that he was healthy. I had finally decided that my loss in 2006 was just a fluke. I had finally decided that I was really and truly going to have a baby in August. I finally let myself get excited about the fact that my sister and I were going to have our last babies and that these babies would be the first ones that were going to be in the same grade (We both had children in 1999, 2001, and 2004, but her kids are born before the deadline and mine are born after. We also both had early losses in 2002, and late first trimester losses in 2006. She is due with #4 in June, and I was due in August.) Instead, Christopher will never get to go to school with his cousin, learn to drive at the same time, go to college at the same time, etc. And Christopher's due date was my birthday. On the one hand, it is nice that we will always be tied together by that date, but on the other hand, every year, I will get older, and Christopher never will.

Project Linus' national headquarters are here, and I know the president fairly well, and she brought over blankets for K, E & S. I thought that was so thoughtful. The hospital also gave me a baby blanket from Project Linus while I was at the hospital. I've really been overwhelmed with all the people that have expressed their love and support for our family during this awful time.

- Andie

Friday, April 04, 2008

I just don't want to do anything


I did the dishes this morning for the first time in probably two weeks. I just kept thinking how I just wanted to go back to bed, but even if I went back to bed for three months, it wouldn't change anything.

I'm so sad and angry. I tried to do everything right so that I wouldn't have another miscarriage. I took progesterone until 12 weeks, I took a baby aspirin every day, I took blood pressure medication when my blood pressure when it got high during this pregnancy, I took a multi-vitamin from the moment I found out. I didn't eat lunch meat or hot dogs, I went on bedrest as soon as I got the low-lying placenta diagnosis, and I would lay down every time that I had a spotting episode. I went to the dr. as soon as I thought I had a bladder infection and got on antibiotics. I have atypical ezcema (I get a blister like I've been lifting a lot or that I got burned) on the pads of my fingers, and I hadn't had any episodes since my last miscarriage. Last week, I got one on my thumb and one as starting on my second finger. I had asked the dermatologist if it meant anything in terms of my miscarriage, and he said "No way." It was just an unfortunate coincidence that I happen to have a flare in 2006, and another one right before I found out about the miscarriage in 2008. I saw my OB a lot, and the specialist a couple times. I had convinced myself that my miscarriage in 2006 was a chromosome problem (we didn't do any testing afterwards because I was afraid that it would show that everything was normal. It was easier for me to just believe that it was a chromosome problem), and that it was just a fluke. So I felt so reassured when I found out Christopher didn't have any chromosome problems.

It just makes me wonder even more if I did something that led to his death. I had a pedicure the day before, and there was this big massage/pedicure chair. The person turned on the massage as soon as I sat down. It felt so good and had it going on my back for about 10-15 minutes before I thought "Maybe I shouldn't be having a massage like this when I'm pregnant, especially with all the complications I've had." I turned it off as soon as I thought that. Could that have caused the miscarriage? It had only been 9 days since the amnio. I hadn't had any leaking or spotting from the amnio, and just pain that first day. I had heartbeat check at the OB's office two days later, and his heart was still beating. I heard his heartbeat up until a week after the amnio. So could it have even been the amnio? Was it because I kept getting bladder infections? Was it because I took a double dose of acidopholus to try and prevent getting a yeast infection?

It just doesn't seem possible that I could have just been that unlucky twice. Both of my last two pregnancies ended so similarly. Everyone reassured me that everything was fine both times, kind of made me feel silly for being so paranoid, everything seemed to be going o.k., and then finally at the end, the ultrasound that showed no movement, and no heartbeat. Why did it have to happen to me TWICE? What could I need to learn from this experience that I didn't learn the first time? And why did I feel so driven to get my husband to NOT get the vasectomy. If he had done the vasectomy, then we wouldn't have had to go through this terribly, sad experience.

People had always said things during the pregnancy that made me feel like everything would be o.k. When I went to the ER with a bleeding episode around 10 weeks, and I was sure everything was over, I was talking to the sonographer after she found that everything was o.k., and I told her what a huge surprise this pregnancy was, and she said "Oh, then you don't need to worry. The surprises always make it!" Then when my dad was here, and we were telling him the whole story about how my husband was scheduled for a vasectomy, and I just felt in such an overwhelming way that it wasn't the right time for us to do it, even though I had been the one that had begged him for two years to get one. My husband said that he still felt like it was the right thing to do, but he would respect my feelings. We both agreed that we didn't want to get pregnant, but he agreed to postpone it for a few months until I felt better about it. 7 days later, at only the 8th day of my cycle, somehow, I ended up getting pregnant. Then all the placenta problems, and the Trisomy 18 scare, and then finally the good news. After we told my dad everything, he said "Well, after all that, he must be a real fighter and meant to be with your family." Just 3 days later, he was gone. He will always be a part of our family, but not in the way that we wanted.

I went to the mall on Monday and picked out a nameplace for his momento box. While I was there, I decided to go into a jewelry store. Christopher was due around the end of August, and my birthday is August 27th. I have never liked the look of my birthstone, and so I never had any jewelry with my birthstone. But I decided that I wanted to have some jewelry that I could wear that would remind me of him, but since it was my birthstone too, I wouldn't have to explain it if I didn't want to. I ended up buying a ring. It is very pretty. There is a square cut peridot with two small diamonds on either side. The band is gold.




I'm so paranoid about the safety of my other children. If I lost another child, I don't know what I would do. I don't think that I would survive it. I already feel like I've had my share of tragedy. Not that I wish tragedy would have to go to someone else, but it is my belief that tragedy is just part of life, just as joy is, but I'm ready for it to not be my turn for tragedy.

Nothing I will do will change anything. Christopher will never come back. I'm really too old to be trying again, and I wouldn't anyway. I wouldn't want to. I just want to have Christopher back. And that won't happen.

-Andie

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

I miss him so much

Monday (the day we met with the funeral home) and Tuesday (the day we had the graveside service) were two of the hardest days of my life. I just never imagined that I would be burying one of my children.

I'm just so sad. So much of his pregnancy was filled with worry and anticipation of the worst that I only had a few days of feeling like happiness about a new life coming into our family. I am so, so sad that I will never get to know him. I just want for it all to be a dream, but it's six days now since we found out that he was gone, and I know that it has to be real.

I will never have another chance to have another child. We will not be having any more children. I am sad about that, but I don't really want to have another child. I want to have Christopher.

We don't know what happened yet, and most likely never will. But it wouldn't matter anyway. It wouldn't bring him back.

My parents left yesterday. Today is the first day that I'm trying to get back into my regular routine. Well, I'm not doing preschool until next week, or daycare, but I'm watching S, and I am trying to catch up on some housework.

I keep crying and S (he's 3) keeps asking why I'm crying. If I tell him that I'm crying about the baby, then he keeps saying things like "It's o.k. Mommy, I'll just go rescue him and bring him back" or "I want him to come back Mommy." Me too. Me too. I know it is because he doesn't quite understand, but it is so painful to have to keep telling him that the baby isn't coming back.

We've had so many people contact us and express their sympathies. I do appreciate it, but when I try to talk to people, I just end up crying. I feel like I'll never stop.

In some ways, I keep thinking that I want time to stand still so I don't have to think "Christopher would be 2 years old, he would be 8, he would be 12, he would be 18." I know it will go so fast. And I feel like my other children are growing so fast and that I'm losing so many opportunities to be a good mother to them. But on the other hand, if time stood still, I would always feel like this.

I know that I'll probably never get the answer to the "Why?" or "Why did it have to happen now?" But it is just SO unfair. I've already had two early miscarriages, and my miscarriage in 2006 at almost 13 weeks. Why did I have to lose Christopher at almost 18 weeks? They found out he didn't have any chromosome problems, the placenta problem had resolved itself, he was growing normally (even a little large for his gestational age). I was well into the second trimester. We had seen his heartbeat so many times - always 155. Always completely normal. Everything should have been fine. It should have been fine. But it wasn't fine. And I'm not fine. I know that I'll eventually get to a different place and that I won't be so consumed with grief. But I'll never be the same.

I miss him. I miss him. I miss him.

-Andie