which I guess makes sense, since it was the end of March in 2008 when you had to leave us.
It was grey, really grey, with lots of clouds in the sky, a cool breeze, but all the snow has melted off the ground.
I can hardly believe it has been almost 2 years. I rarely cry anymore, but I've spent a lot of the last month or so still kind of angry about the fact that you died. Two or three times in the last year, I've gone to the grief support group that the hospital sponsers. Someone was saying that it helps them to remember that God has a plan for our lives.
That thought doesn't bring me peace. I just can't wrap my mind around the thought that you dying was part of a plan. Or that I needed to have it happen in order for my plan to be fulfilled. Or what I could possibly learn from losing you that I didn't learn when I had the 13 week miscarriage in 2006.
Most of the people that I know from church have 4 children. Most of them had their 4th in the last two years. It is so unfair that I didn't get to have 4 living children. There are many people who have moved in in the last two years who don't know about you and when they see our family sitting in the pew, they don't even know that I didn't choose to stop after 3 children.
And so many, so many people that I've talked to that have lost a child - to miscarriage, to stillbirth, to SIDS, they all went on to have another child. It was so hard to know that not only had I lost you, but that I would never, ever have another child.
Your brother is healing. He was only 3 when you died, and he had only known about you for 4 days when you died. But he was so affected by your death. I have worried so much about him. But while he still talks about you, still tells people about you, he mostly talks about things that 5 year old boys like - cars, blocks, superheroes.
It is almost your birthday. Your second birthday. I still think of you every day.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Thursday, December 10, 2009
Almost Christmas again . . .
Christmas is harder, since you left.
I found out that I was pregnant with you on December 24th, 2007. I spent all of Christmas Day just smiling. It was still just a secret between you and I.
Last Christmas was so difficult. It was so hard to be excited about the birth of a Son, when all that I wanted was to be able to be sharing a first Christmas with our second son. I cried most of December. I don't remember much of last Christmas Day except that we went out to your grave. The marker was covered with snow, and we had to sweep it off. It was cold.
We were going to a Christmas party last weekend, and your brother was talking about you. He said "I wish Christopher could come to the Christmas party. I miss Christopher more at Christmas time."
I sometimes wonder whose heart is more broken because of your death - mine or your brother's.
I found out that I was pregnant with you on December 24th, 2007. I spent all of Christmas Day just smiling. It was still just a secret between you and I.
Last Christmas was so difficult. It was so hard to be excited about the birth of a Son, when all that I wanted was to be able to be sharing a first Christmas with our second son. I cried most of December. I don't remember much of last Christmas Day except that we went out to your grave. The marker was covered with snow, and we had to sweep it off. It was cold.
We were going to a Christmas party last weekend, and your brother was talking about you. He said "I wish Christopher could come to the Christmas party. I miss Christopher more at Christmas time."
I sometimes wonder whose heart is more broken because of your death - mine or your brother's.
Monday, November 02, 2009
All Souls Day
Today, it was All Souls Day. Last year, I went out to your grave and put flowers on the grave. Today, I wanted to, but I had a feeling that I wouldn't make it out to the grave and I didn't. I'm sorry.
But we did talk about you. We were talking about relatives that had died. Your daddy told some stories about his grandparents, and I told stories about mine, and your brother, your sweet brother who SO wishes you were here, said "I have some memories about someone who died. I remember Christopher. I remember that he was in your tummy. I remember that he died and his body went to the cemetery. I remember that we celebrated his birthday. I remember that he is my brother."
He remembers you. He may have never met you. And while your daddy and I saw you, we never really got a chance to meet you either. But we remember. Your sisters remember. We all remember. Even if I don't get out to your grave, please don't think that it isn't because we forgot. We remember.
But we did talk about you. We were talking about relatives that had died. Your daddy told some stories about his grandparents, and I told stories about mine, and your brother, your sweet brother who SO wishes you were here, said "I have some memories about someone who died. I remember Christopher. I remember that he was in your tummy. I remember that he died and his body went to the cemetery. I remember that we celebrated his birthday. I remember that he is my brother."
He remembers you. He may have never met you. And while your daddy and I saw you, we never really got a chance to meet you either. But we remember. Your sisters remember. We all remember. Even if I don't get out to your grave, please don't think that it isn't because we forgot. We remember.
Sunday, October 25, 2009
I'm finding a place lately
where I think that I'm finally accepting your death, and finally accepting that I will have no babies.
For a long time, I just missed you. I didn't want to have another baby, I just wanted you to be alive, and for me to be able to give birth to you, and for me to be able to raise you. I still want that. But I am getting to that place, it's starting to be long enough ago, that I can accept that it can't/won't happen.
And then of course, there have been more babies. Many of my friends, and even my sister, has had a baby since you left. That was hard. Sometimes, it really, really, really hurt. It seemed so unfair. And after you had been gone a year, there was a bit of a change, where I found myself missing you, but also just wanting to have a baby. There was such a hole in my heart from where you left, and it was just so hard and sad to end my childbearing days with your loss. I didn't want it to end that way. I really wanted to have another child. I had always wanted to have four children. And so many people had at least four children. Why couldn't it be me?? But every time I thought about it, I also thought how it couldn't happen. I was almost 42 when you left. I'm 43 now. Things are not the same in many, many things in my life, and there are reasons that I just cannot have another child. And there are reasons that I can't adopt. I knew in my head that I would not have another child, but it was still a struggle every day. And now, I'm finally beginning to accept that it can't/won't happen.
And I'm not completely over it. I probably never will be. But eighteen months later, I'm coming to a place. One where I'm still sad about it, still think about you every day, but to a place where I can go to the store without tearing up when I see a large family. A place where I don't think about when a baby would be due if I got pregnant this week. A place where I am able to spend a little more time appreciating my children on earth. A time where it feels o.k. to remember you without being overcome and unable to function. A time when I can get you a pumpkin for Halloween and make you an ornament for Christmas, but that I don't feel SO sad about that you aren't here to share the holiday that I am unable to really enjoy the holiday.
But I will always remember you. Don't worry that one day that I'll come to a place where I have forgotten you. I will never reach that place.
For a long time, I just missed you. I didn't want to have another baby, I just wanted you to be alive, and for me to be able to give birth to you, and for me to be able to raise you. I still want that. But I am getting to that place, it's starting to be long enough ago, that I can accept that it can't/won't happen.
And then of course, there have been more babies. Many of my friends, and even my sister, has had a baby since you left. That was hard. Sometimes, it really, really, really hurt. It seemed so unfair. And after you had been gone a year, there was a bit of a change, where I found myself missing you, but also just wanting to have a baby. There was such a hole in my heart from where you left, and it was just so hard and sad to end my childbearing days with your loss. I didn't want it to end that way. I really wanted to have another child. I had always wanted to have four children. And so many people had at least four children. Why couldn't it be me?? But every time I thought about it, I also thought how it couldn't happen. I was almost 42 when you left. I'm 43 now. Things are not the same in many, many things in my life, and there are reasons that I just cannot have another child. And there are reasons that I can't adopt. I knew in my head that I would not have another child, but it was still a struggle every day. And now, I'm finally beginning to accept that it can't/won't happen.
And I'm not completely over it. I probably never will be. But eighteen months later, I'm coming to a place. One where I'm still sad about it, still think about you every day, but to a place where I can go to the store without tearing up when I see a large family. A place where I don't think about when a baby would be due if I got pregnant this week. A place where I am able to spend a little more time appreciating my children on earth. A time where it feels o.k. to remember you without being overcome and unable to function. A time when I can get you a pumpkin for Halloween and make you an ornament for Christmas, but that I don't feel SO sad about that you aren't here to share the holiday that I am unable to really enjoy the holiday.
But I will always remember you. Don't worry that one day that I'll come to a place where I have forgotten you. I will never reach that place.
Saturday, October 10, 2009
It was the 2nd Walk I've gone to since you left . . .
October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day. Well, I remember you every day, of course, but ever since you died, I've tried to go to the Walk to Remember sponsored by the Pregnancy and Infant Grief Support Group offered through my local hospital. I've attended the group a few times over the years - a few times after my loss in 2006, and for a year after you died. But I knew that I would be there for the Walk, and it was held today.
For the Walk to Remember, parents, children, grandparents, friends, all put signs on their back that have the name of the child that they are remembering and each of us carry a balloon. I went, and I took your brother and sisters. We walked for about a half a mile - mostly on a trail that goes all the way through town. We stopped at a clearing and the leaders read the names of the children that we were remembering. And then we released the balloons. It always make me cry, and today it was no exception.
Then we walked back to the hospital garden, just off the chapel. We listened to a lovely song called "Remember Me", and then people read poems and thoughts. Your sister, the one who would have been 6 1/2 years older than you wanted to say a poem but she was too scared, so she whispered it in my ear and then I said it. I cried through most of it. It is simple, but sweet.
Christopher, oh, Christopher.
How I wish I could see you.
Christopher.
I know you are in heaven.
I'll always love you.
We all love you. And miss you. And remember you.
Every day.
For the Walk to Remember, parents, children, grandparents, friends, all put signs on their back that have the name of the child that they are remembering and each of us carry a balloon. I went, and I took your brother and sisters. We walked for about a half a mile - mostly on a trail that goes all the way through town. We stopped at a clearing and the leaders read the names of the children that we were remembering. And then we released the balloons. It always make me cry, and today it was no exception.
Then we walked back to the hospital garden, just off the chapel. We listened to a lovely song called "Remember Me", and then people read poems and thoughts. Your sister, the one who would have been 6 1/2 years older than you wanted to say a poem but she was too scared, so she whispered it in my ear and then I said it. I cried through most of it. It is simple, but sweet.
Christopher, oh, Christopher.
How I wish I could see you.
Christopher.
I know you are in heaven.
I'll always love you.
We all love you. And miss you. And remember you.
Every day.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Thinking of You Today . . .
Well, I think of you everyday, but today, it was even more.
Your brother is heartbroken that you are gone. Today he kept crying because he misses you. He wishes that he could see you. He wishes that you were alive. He wishes that he could be a big brother to his baby brother.
I wish that he could too. I just kept telling him that I miss you too. I wish that we could see you. I wish that you hadn't had to go. And I wish that I could have seen my two sons playing, hugging, sleeping.
If you had lived, and if you would have been been born around your due date, we would have been celebrating your first birthday a few weeks ago. I'm sure that your brother would have tried to talk you into having a fire fighter party, just like him.
He loves you.
We love you.
Your brother is heartbroken that you are gone. Today he kept crying because he misses you. He wishes that he could see you. He wishes that you were alive. He wishes that he could be a big brother to his baby brother.
I wish that he could too. I just kept telling him that I miss you too. I wish that we could see you. I wish that you hadn't had to go. And I wish that I could have seen my two sons playing, hugging, sleeping.
If you had lived, and if you would have been been born around your due date, we would have been celebrating your first birthday a few weeks ago. I'm sure that your brother would have tried to talk you into having a fire fighter party, just like him.
He loves you.
We love you.
Friday, May 22, 2009
Sometimes I check on this blog just hoping
that things have changed. That Christopher really didn't die.
I know it will never happen. But Oh, How I Wish It Would.
I found out some information a few weeks ago that helped explain why he probably died. It has helped a little to have a reason.
The blood work that I had done at 12 weeks showed that there was a 1 in 10 chance that Christopher had Trisomy 18. One of the things that the blood work shows is the PAPP-A level, which stands for Pregnancy Associated Plasma Protein A, which is produced by placental trophoblasts. A low level, like I had, can indicate Trisomy 13 or 18, but women with a low PAPP-A are also significantly more likely to experience fetal loss at less than or equal to 24 weeks, low birth weight, preeclampsia, gestational hypertension, preterm birth, stillbirth, preterm premature rupture of membranes, and placental abruption.
The amnio that I had at 16 weeks determined that he did not have Trisomy 18, but sadly, he was stillborn at almost 18 weeks, most likely due to the low PAPP-A level. During his pregnancy, I also had gestational hypertension, and placental previa, which was also likely caused by the low PAPP-A level.
I had placental issues with every pregnancy that went past 5 weeks after K's pregnancy. So I had 4 pregnancies with placental issues. With all of them, I had a subchorionic hemorrhage, but with Christopher, I also had a low PAPP-A level and placenta previa.
Subchorionic Hemorrhage or SCH is a gathering of blood between the membranes of the placenta and the uterus. There is no formal treatment for this blood clot but each doctor is different. Some suggest that you can continue with your everyday activities while others may suggest taking it easy. Some physicians even suggest bed rest. Surgery is not an option. Some doctors prefer a ‘wait and see’ approach while others choose to use medications. Blood thinners such as: aspirin, Lovenox (inj), Coumadin and Heparin (inj) are used in attempts to ‘bleed’ the clot out. Estrogen and Progesterone therapy is also sometimes used to aid in the development of the pregnancy. The current statistics for pregnancy loss with a SCH is 1-3%. This low percentage is related to large clots. Most pregnancies progress with no further complications. Most clots resolve on their own by 20 weeks of pregnancy. The clot either bleeds itself out or the body absorbs it. T
The SCH resolved itself with E and S's pregnancies. It is possible that my loss in 2006 was caused by the SCH. With Christopher, the SCH probably didn't cause the loss, but with all the other issues from the low PAPP-A level, it didn't help.
But I still wish I could go back. I wish I could be pregnant again and give birth to a healthy, live baby. I don't think I'll ever stop wishing that things had turned out differently.
I know it will never happen. But Oh, How I Wish It Would.
I found out some information a few weeks ago that helped explain why he probably died. It has helped a little to have a reason.
The blood work that I had done at 12 weeks showed that there was a 1 in 10 chance that Christopher had Trisomy 18. One of the things that the blood work shows is the PAPP-A level, which stands for Pregnancy Associated Plasma Protein A, which is produced by placental trophoblasts. A low level, like I had, can indicate Trisomy 13 or 18, but women with a low PAPP-A are also significantly more likely to experience fetal loss at less than or equal to 24 weeks, low birth weight, preeclampsia, gestational hypertension, preterm birth, stillbirth, preterm premature rupture of membranes, and placental abruption.
The amnio that I had at 16 weeks determined that he did not have Trisomy 18, but sadly, he was stillborn at almost 18 weeks, most likely due to the low PAPP-A level. During his pregnancy, I also had gestational hypertension, and placental previa, which was also likely caused by the low PAPP-A level.
I had placental issues with every pregnancy that went past 5 weeks after K's pregnancy. So I had 4 pregnancies with placental issues. With all of them, I had a subchorionic hemorrhage, but with Christopher, I also had a low PAPP-A level and placenta previa.
Subchorionic Hemorrhage or SCH is a gathering of blood between the membranes of the placenta and the uterus. There is no formal treatment for this blood clot but each doctor is different. Some suggest that you can continue with your everyday activities while others may suggest taking it easy. Some physicians even suggest bed rest. Surgery is not an option. Some doctors prefer a ‘wait and see’ approach while others choose to use medications. Blood thinners such as: aspirin, Lovenox (inj), Coumadin and Heparin (inj) are used in attempts to ‘bleed’ the clot out. Estrogen and Progesterone therapy is also sometimes used to aid in the development of the pregnancy. The current statistics for pregnancy loss with a SCH is 1-3%. This low percentage is related to large clots. Most pregnancies progress with no further complications. Most clots resolve on their own by 20 weeks of pregnancy. The clot either bleeds itself out or the body absorbs it. T
The SCH resolved itself with E and S's pregnancies. It is possible that my loss in 2006 was caused by the SCH. With Christopher, the SCH probably didn't cause the loss, but with all the other issues from the low PAPP-A level, it didn't help.
But I still wish I could go back. I wish I could be pregnant again and give birth to a healthy, live baby. I don't think I'll ever stop wishing that things had turned out differently.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
Happy Birthday Christopher
Christopher is buried in the same cemetery that Dorothy Louise Gage was buried. Dorothy Gage was the niece of L. Frank Baum, the author of The Wizard of Oz. Dorothy was five months old at the time. The Baums were deeply affected by her death. L. Frank Baum was in the process of writing The Wizard of Oz at the time of her death, and he changed the name of the heroine in the book to Dorothy. In 1998, the cemetery dedicated an area of the cemetery for infants and called it the Dorothy Gage Memorial Garden.
When I found out about the history of the garden, it suddenly put a whole new meaning to the song "Somewhere Over the Rainbow." So everytime I hear the song, I think of Christopher. I hope that I'll be able to see you someday over the rainbow, my dear son.
Happy Birthday.
Friday, March 27, 2009
364 days ago
we met and said good-bye to Christopher. Today, we went to his grave to wish him a happy birthday. We put flowers on the grave - five red and one white and let balloons go - five blue and one happy birthday.
Tomorrow, on his actual birthday, we will light a candle given to me from a special friend, and we will sing "Happy Birthday" and we will eat cake.
We decided it would be better to have his actual birthday be more of a celebration, and the day before the day we went to the cemetery.
I don't have anything really philosophical to say to wrap up. I'm doing better and I'm starting to accept what has happened. But I'm still sad that he is gone. I still wish that we would have been celebrating him turning 7 months old (his due date was August 28th) with a trip to the park instead of putting flowers on his grave. 2008 was a very difficult year - with having to deal with the surprise of his pregnancy, the complications, his death, and dealing with all the things that happened as we tried to grieve.
Happy Birthday Christopher. We love you and miss you.
Tomorrow, on his actual birthday, we will light a candle given to me from a special friend, and we will sing "Happy Birthday" and we will eat cake.
We decided it would be better to have his actual birthday be more of a celebration, and the day before the day we went to the cemetery.
I don't have anything really philosophical to say to wrap up. I'm doing better and I'm starting to accept what has happened. But I'm still sad that he is gone. I still wish that we would have been celebrating him turning 7 months old (his due date was August 28th) with a trip to the park instead of putting flowers on his grave. 2008 was a very difficult year - with having to deal with the surprise of his pregnancy, the complications, his death, and dealing with all the things that happened as we tried to grieve.
Happy Birthday Christopher. We love you and miss you.
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
I've been dreading this month all year
It is March. In only a few more weeks, it will be a year since I gave birth to my second son, Christopher. It will be a year since I had to say good-bye.
I was listening to an Elton John song a few days ago called "The Greatest Discovery."
Here are the lyrics.
Tread neat so small those little feet
Large hands lift him through the air
His puzzled head tipped to one side
I was listening to an Elton John song a few days ago called "The Greatest Discovery."
Here are the lyrics.
Peering out of tiny eyes
The grubby hands that gripped the rail
Wiped the window clean of frost
As the morning air laid on the latch
A whistle awakened someone there
Next door to the nursery just down the hall
A strange new sound you never heard before
A strange new sound that makes boys explore
Tread neat so small those little feet
Amid the morning his small heart beats
So much excitement yesterday
That must be rewarded must be displayed
Large hands lift him through the air
Excited eyes contain him there
The eyes of those he loves and knows
But what's this extra bed just here
His puzzled head tipped to one side
Amazement swims in those bright green eyes
Glancing down upon this thing
That make strange sounds, strange sounds that sing
In those silent happy seconds
That surround the sound of this event
A parent smile is made in moments
They have made for you a friend
And all you ever learned from them
Until you grew much older
Did not compare with when they said
This is your brand new brother
This is your brand new brother
This is your brand new brother
This isn't the first time I've heard this song. I've heard it many times. I remember hearing it and crying when I thought that I wouldn't have any children. I remember hearing it and crying when I thought I wouldn't be able to have more than one. And I remember crying because my girls actually did have a brother (not that we wouldn't have been thrilled with a girl either, but I was thrilled to have a boy too!)
But the other day, I cried. And cried and cried. I cried because S will never be able to have a brother. I cried because I will never have any more children. And I cried because I missed my littlest little boy. And I cried because I wanted SO much to be able to bring Christopher into our home. But instead he lives in our hearts.
Friday, January 23, 2009
It's 2009
It has been over a year since my pregnancy with Christopher began. I've found myself thinking "Last year, I was doing . . . " or whatever.
I've healed in a lot of ways, but not much in others. I still think of Christopher every day. I'm still sad about it. I'm still angry about it. I still wish that he was here. I still wish that he was part of our family and he was our fourth child. It still doesn't make sense to me. I still cry every once in a while.
I found out a few weeks after we lost Christopher that a friend lost a son at a similar place in her pregnancy. I was so sad for her, and sad that someone else that I knew had to go through a similar experience. A few months went by, and she announced that she was pregnant again. I was amazed at her bravery. She found out a few days ago that the baby has no heartbeat - at sixteen weeks - almost the same place as her last loss. It is just SO unfair.
I've been by to see Christopher's grave marker a few times in the last year - most recently on Christmas Day. Christmas was a very hard time. Everyone was celebrating the birth of another son, and I should have been celebrating it with my own new son, not visiting him at a cemetery.
It will be the anniversary of his birth and death in just a little over two months. How can the year have gone by so fast? My other children, of course, show me how fast the year has gone too. S has gone from a just past toddler to a full fledged preschool kid, E is in first grade and losing teeth right and left, and K is showing me every day glimpses of what she will be like as a teenager.
And my niece, who was going to be just 10 weeks older than Christopher, is doing well. She is 7 months and smiles so brightly and often.
I'll never forget 2008, and the many painful things that happened in that year. But I am hoping that I'll never forget 2009, and the many good things that happened too.
I've healed in a lot of ways, but not much in others. I still think of Christopher every day. I'm still sad about it. I'm still angry about it. I still wish that he was here. I still wish that he was part of our family and he was our fourth child. It still doesn't make sense to me. I still cry every once in a while.
I found out a few weeks after we lost Christopher that a friend lost a son at a similar place in her pregnancy. I was so sad for her, and sad that someone else that I knew had to go through a similar experience. A few months went by, and she announced that she was pregnant again. I was amazed at her bravery. She found out a few days ago that the baby has no heartbeat - at sixteen weeks - almost the same place as her last loss. It is just SO unfair.
I've been by to see Christopher's grave marker a few times in the last year - most recently on Christmas Day. Christmas was a very hard time. Everyone was celebrating the birth of another son, and I should have been celebrating it with my own new son, not visiting him at a cemetery.
It will be the anniversary of his birth and death in just a little over two months. How can the year have gone by so fast? My other children, of course, show me how fast the year has gone too. S has gone from a just past toddler to a full fledged preschool kid, E is in first grade and losing teeth right and left, and K is showing me every day glimpses of what she will be like as a teenager.
And my niece, who was going to be just 10 weeks older than Christopher, is doing well. She is 7 months and smiles so brightly and often.
I'll never forget 2008, and the many painful things that happened in that year. But I am hoping that I'll never forget 2009, and the many good things that happened too.
Monday, June 30, 2008
I have a new niece
My sister had her baby a couple of weeks ago. I'm doing about 90% o.k. with it. Her baby is beautiful, and it truly is a miracle that she conceived and carried to term, and I'm SO happy for her. But it is still SOOOOOO unfair that I didn't get to have my miracle too.
I had a rough time at a recent good-bye party of a really good friend. At the party, the only people who were there who didn't have a baby that was under 6 months was me, the girl who was going away, and one of my other good friends. All but one of the babies are boys too. I just kept thinking, I should be huge and pregnant right now, and talking about how hard it is going to be to go back to those late night feedings, and complaining about my swollen ankles, or having to go through ANOTHER pregnancy through the summer. I would do ANYTHING to be able to complain like that.
-Andie
I had a rough time at a recent good-bye party of a really good friend. At the party, the only people who were there who didn't have a baby that was under 6 months was me, the girl who was going away, and one of my other good friends. All but one of the babies are boys too. I just kept thinking, I should be huge and pregnant right now, and talking about how hard it is going to be to go back to those late night feedings, and complaining about my swollen ankles, or having to go through ANOTHER pregnancy through the summer. I would do ANYTHING to be able to complain like that.
-Andie
Saturday, May 31, 2008
End of May now
I did go to my therapy appointment. Actually, I've been twice now. It is helping.
I am trying to decide what to do with this blog. I originally started it in 2006 to talk about my kids and my pregnancy at the time. Then I couldn't find it again, and I had a miscarriage. I finally stumbled back on it in December 2007 right after I found out I was pregnant with Christopher. I didn't intend to just turn it into a pregnancy blog, but that was the way that it turned out, and then I used it a lot after he died. But lately, for the last month anyway, I haven't felt the need to use it to talk about Christopher and my grief. But I don't know if I can just change gears and start talking about my regular life here. First, my life mostly isn't that interesting, and I don't really feel the need to talk about it. Second, since this blog has been mostly about Christopher, I sort of want to keep it that way. I don't know, I'll think about it for another week or so and see what I think.
I took the kids to the cemetery today. I even brought little S (he is 3) this time. I teared up a little when he was blowing kisses to, in his words "his little brother". K (she is 8) asked how you can miss someone that you never met. I told that it is sometimes harder, but that I just envision what Christopher would have been like, and also I miss the things that we would have done together and just being a mommy to another little boy.
I gave birth to him nine weeks ago yesterday. If I was still pregnant, I'd be almost 27 weeks. Into the third trimester. I probably would be starting to complain a little bit about having to be big and pregnant through the summer. I'd definitely be showing. Given my history, I'd probably be on bedrest/medication for pre-term labor. Yet, I'm not doing any of those things.
My sister is 37 weeks pregnant. I'm doing o.k. with it. Some days are harder than others but most of the time, I'm just happy for her and sad for me.
- Andie
I am trying to decide what to do with this blog. I originally started it in 2006 to talk about my kids and my pregnancy at the time. Then I couldn't find it again, and I had a miscarriage. I finally stumbled back on it in December 2007 right after I found out I was pregnant with Christopher. I didn't intend to just turn it into a pregnancy blog, but that was the way that it turned out, and then I used it a lot after he died. But lately, for the last month anyway, I haven't felt the need to use it to talk about Christopher and my grief. But I don't know if I can just change gears and start talking about my regular life here. First, my life mostly isn't that interesting, and I don't really feel the need to talk about it. Second, since this blog has been mostly about Christopher, I sort of want to keep it that way. I don't know, I'll think about it for another week or so and see what I think.
I took the kids to the cemetery today. I even brought little S (he is 3) this time. I teared up a little when he was blowing kisses to, in his words "his little brother". K (she is 8) asked how you can miss someone that you never met. I told that it is sometimes harder, but that I just envision what Christopher would have been like, and also I miss the things that we would have done together and just being a mommy to another little boy.
I gave birth to him nine weeks ago yesterday. If I was still pregnant, I'd be almost 27 weeks. Into the third trimester. I probably would be starting to complain a little bit about having to be big and pregnant through the summer. I'd definitely be showing. Given my history, I'd probably be on bedrest/medication for pre-term labor. Yet, I'm not doing any of those things.
My sister is 37 weeks pregnant. I'm doing o.k. with it. Some days are harder than others but most of the time, I'm just happy for her and sad for me.
- Andie
Wednesday, May 07, 2008
It's May
Spring is in full bloom here. At first it made me sad to see nature starting over, seeing all the new life, when I felt like the world should be gray and dark and mourn with me. But it does help me to see the vibrant colors and hear the chirping birds and feel the warm sun on my face.
I think I'm starting to accept Christopher's death. I know that I'll always be sad about losing him, and will always wonder what he would have been like, and always wondered what his relationship would have been with me, my husband, his siblings, etc. But I'm starting to see that I do have a life outside of being that person who had a stillborn baby.
I have my first therapy appointment today. I've been debating about whether I should still go. I suppose it isn't a terrible idea. I've got issues for days, outside of dealing with Christopher's death (I know that may be shocking to some of my readers LOL)
-Andie
I think I'm starting to accept Christopher's death. I know that I'll always be sad about losing him, and will always wonder what he would have been like, and always wondered what his relationship would have been with me, my husband, his siblings, etc. But I'm starting to see that I do have a life outside of being that person who had a stillborn baby.
I have my first therapy appointment today. I've been debating about whether I should still go. I suppose it isn't a terrible idea. I've got issues for days, outside of dealing with Christopher's death (I know that may be shocking to some of my readers LOL)
-Andie
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
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
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
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
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
-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
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
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