Lily Grace's Angelversary - One Year in Heaven

                 Special thank you to Ashley Flowers and Memories From Beautiful Miloh for this beautiful photo...

March 28, 2014.  One year ago today I was thrown for a loop.  And it was definitely way more of a loop than I thought I'd be trying to hold on to.

If you've been following me on my journey, "Six Days of Grace" this week (either here or on Facebook), you've seen that we've had two significant dates pass so far.  March 24, 2014 --one year since I took the test and found out that we had miraculously and beautifully conceived.  March 26, 2014 -- one year since I shared our joy with family and friends.

Since I'm a little behind in how I originally wanted to write all of this, let me back up a day...to March 27, 2013.  I had gone back to my OB for a second day of blood work.

When I left the doctor's office on the 26th, I remember feeling that awkward moment where you are pseudo pretending you are just another "normal" pregnant woman in the office, rather than one facing devastating news.  The initial appointment with my OB was a very basic one in which they confirmed the pregnancy via urine test and then were about to proceed to set all kinds of appointments for me to do additional testing and whatnot.  As the doctor and I walked out to the desk, I remember the nurse starting to do that but the doctor quietly saying, "Right now we are just going to schedule blood work for tomorrow and see where we go from there...", and her voice trailed off.  The nurse at the desk must have known what that meant, so of course didn't say another word.  I was never given that welcome bag either--you know those generic black diaper bags that are donated to the doctors and are full of coupons, samples and tons of reading material?   I fell outside of the cracks of the "norm" for a pregnant woman's first appointment.  While it didn't surprise me to see things altered, sometimes I just WISH they would treat you like any other pregnant woman, or at least give you that chance. What would I have done with that cheesy diaper bag full of ads I didn't need? Probably nothing. But you know, it would have been a nice confirmation of being pregnant.  A starting place. A reason again to hope.

The nurse scheduled me for follow-up blood work the next day, March 27.  My doctor hugged me and I went home to pray, to hope and to try not to worry.

Hope. That was a big sail guiding my boat this very week last year.  We were already blessed with a miracle, but we knew we were fighting increasing cramping and spotting.  All we had left was hope and I held on to it as long as possible.

On March 27, then, I returned for blood work.  Nothing significant happened at the office but oh, the good news phone call that came in later that afternoon!  Here was my Facebook post from last year:

(March 27, 2013) Oh my goodness!! Just got a teeny weeny bit of "good" news!! I could cry!! The nurse said my hcg is 8,841 and said that's really good. My progesterone is 7.1. One lab scores "normal" progesterone at a 12 and another at 8.2. So mine is low and will need to be supplemented BUT she said typically levels at 3 are the ones that are heading for a miscarriage. So, maybe, just maybe, this little baby is holding on! She said we should be able to see it in my uterus tomorrow if everything continues to go okay. Continuing to pray for my baby!!!! 

So, I went to bed that night STILL believing that things could be okay, maybe.  My hope was engaged in a huge battle with fear though.  The spotting was picking up. I just knew that wasn't right.  I remember wishing that it would just STOP!  That I could go for an entire day without any spotting but it was not the case.  It just wouldn't stop. But my numbers weren't too terrible.  So that's what kept me holding on.  Anything good that I could get my hands on.

March 28, 2013. One year ago today.  More blood work was scheduled as was an ultrasound.  I was told that we should be able to see the baby by this point. I was around 7 weeks pregnant.  Seven weeks. Somehow I had missed what, 3 weeks of pregnancy symptoms all because I was so afraid to believe that it was truly possible that we had experienced a miracle?  Amazing that I could be so dense.  Or so full of fear that I neglected to see a miracle that was happening.  Either way, sometimes I'm still frustrated that I didn't see what I had desperately been wanting for so long. Fear can be a horrid thing.

Our wait for my ultrasound was much different than it had been 3 year ago with Jacob.  Instead of being locked away in the doctor's back corner office while the boys watched Dora The Explorer over and over on the portable DVD player, and the funky clock on the desk counted every stinking minute in its crooked way (which drove me nuts), this time we sat in a crowded waiting room with several other expectant mothers.  Definitely no privacy for tears or personal conversations.  Drew Carey was hosting The Price is Right on TV and audience cheers and claps rang throughout the room.  Despite the clamor surrounding me, I tried hard to stay in my place of peace.  I felt God with me there during that chaos and felt calm, more calm than I had felt waiting to see Jacob. The boys chatted away as they played a game on Alex's phone, Alex read a magazine and I just sat there...waiting...sitting quietly with my thoughts and prayers.

At this point I had only one goal--to see my baby on the screen. I think I had already made peace with the fact that she was more than likely not doing well.  <I guess I should note here that in we felt like this little one could have been a girl, so we went with that and named her Lily Grace a few days later>.  Anyway, I just couldn't wait to see her. I needed to see my tiny little baby just once.  Even if her little heartbeat was no longer "flickering", I had to see her. I didn't want to waste any more time. I had only learned of her a few days ago and I wanted to celebrate my little miracle for however long I'd have her.

I don't remember if Alex and the boys came in to the room with me or not, but I remember the technician being a bit too matter of fact for me.  As I lay on the table and she began the exam, I focused on the screen mounted on the wall across from me.  It didn't take long for me to see the sac.  But as I continued to scan it for the "flicker" of the baby's heartbeat, I realized there was nothing there.  It was just a big, black, empty space.  Where a baby was to be...even if sleeping...there was nothing, absolutely nothing.

The technician continued her measurements and when I asked about where the baby was, she answered with something like, "Well, your dates could be off so in that case the fetal pole wouldn't be developed yet, blah, blah, blah."  I just remember her tone being very plain. To her I was just another uterus to measure. This way, that way...then the other way....I told her that we feared a miscarriage, that I'd already been cramping and bleeding and that the doctor was closely monitoring my numbers. The tech didn't respond to that but kept saying I could have been wrong with when my last period was.  I don't remember a kind tone, just all business.  The last time when we were checking on Jacob, my doctor was in the room with me and the technician so she was able to answer my question right there, "We can't see the heartbeat, can we?"  "No, Kim.  I'm sorry, we can't, " was what she had said. She was full of compassion as was the technician.  This time I was alone, checking off one doctor-driven box then another.  Each piece of the puzzle was being put together and I dreaded what the picture would be.  When my exam was finished I was dismissed back to the waiting room until the doctor called me back.

It was there that my OB threw out the possible diagnosis of "blighted ovum" to me.  Basically Lily Grace either didn't develop much at all, or only had started developing and then was reabsorbed.  I learned that she had passed away more than likely at 5 weeks, two weeks prior.

The doctor and I discussed options and timing and because Easter and Spring Break were only days away, I opted again for a D&C which was scheduled for the very next day.  As I had asked with Jacob, I remember asking this doctor, "Are you sure she's really gone? We aren't pre-empting anything right?"  I know, dumb question to ask. But that's me and always has been me. I'm one of those people who like to be extra, extra sure of things even if it's totally clear.  It just helps me to hear someone confirm it.  Well, when I asked that question, I don't know if the doctor thought she was helping or what but what she said next was just about the final crushing blow to my week. She said, "We don't even know that there ever was a baby..."  or something like that.

I couldn't believe what I heard.  How much more could I take this week?  A few moments prior she had been explaining a blighted ovum to me and how the tissue gets reabsorbed as soon as the body figures out something is wrong.  So for a woman in my situation, what possible good could there be to say that Lily Grace perhaps never even existed???  Way to twist the knife, doc.

So now not only was I receiving the worst news a mother can hear, that her baby had died, but here I was facing the fact that perhaps my baby never was.  I was not expecting this new crisis and really struggled with it.  I cried, I asked everyone what they thought, I fought to find footing in this newest struggle.  Did my baby exist? What was I grieving if she didn't?

As I prayed that week, I remember a verse popping into my head that just would not leave.  It was from Jeremiah 1:5, "Before I formed thee in the womb, I knew thee..."  The word "before" stood out.  Before, before, before...there had to be a before.  If Lily Grace had started developing and then stopped, or even if she was about to develop but didn't, it didn't mean she didn't exist.  It just meant that she died before we could see her because it was all so early and there just wasn't much to see then.  I was pregnant.  My body started preparing a sweet home for my little one.  Unfortunately things just went horribly, horribly wrong.  My poor sweet baby just couldn't grow as she needed to with what she had to use.  But God knew who she could have been before all of that even took place.  I cannot tell you how much this verse comforted me and it gave me the hope I needed so desperately.  I believe life begins at conception, so my precious daughter was there inside me for a short time, even if it was only for a very, very short time.

Am I sad that I didn't get to experience her tiny life more?  Of course.  Technically, by the time I found out I was pregnant, Lily Grace had already passed away. My poor body just hadn't caught the news yet and was continuing to produce Hcg, the pregnancy hormone.  Ironically my doctor called me that evening with the time of my D&C for Friday. At the same time she confirmed that those Hcg levels were finally dropping. The miscarriage was officially starting.

One year ago.

One year ago it was three days before Easter. It was three days before we were heading home for Spring Break.  It was the day we learned that not only had we lost our baby, but the way in which we lost her would create a new layer of grief to plow through and try to make sense of.

Before I close today, I'd like to end with a letter to my precious Lily...so much to say and sometimes the words just won't come, but I know she knows what is in my heart.

My Sweet Baby Girl,

How I wish I could have seen you a year ago...even once. Even if all I saw was a tiny blob of a baby, that would have been fine. I just wanted to see you so badly. I wanted to see you so I could say hello.  I wanted to see you so I could tell you I loved you.  I wanted to see you so I could say good-bye.

Instead you were already gone. There was nothing there in my tummy but black emptiness.  I had no clue I'd have to face something like that with you.  It just felt so unfair, Lily Grace.  I hadn't had time to celebrate you. I wish so much that I would have known about you right away so I could have started bonding with you sooner, loving you sooner.  By the time I did find out about you things had already gone very wrong.  You had already left us. But I know you left us for a much, much better place. While I never got to see you or hold you in my arms, I know whose arms you felt around you.  Our loving Savior, Jesus, holds you now and I rejoice in that fact.  While we can't be together here, I know someday we will be together in Heaven.

After you left us, my hope became like a tiny star way in the distance in the big black sky.  It's so far away, and it doesn't give off much light.  But I hold on to it. I cling to it.  I just have to wait to see you my pretty baby girl. I have to be patient and to wait. Someday we will all be together as a family of six.  You, Jacob, Benny, Sammy and Mommy and Daddy. What rejoicing that will be!  No more Trisomy, no more bad cells, no illness, no worries, no fears, no emptiness...just love and joy.

How I miss you my baby girl.  I've been so hard on myself simply because I haven't quite known how to grieve for you, I feel like I have to work harder to stay close to you, even though I know you are in a cozy spot within my heart.  You aren't going anywhere, I know that. It's just been a difficult journey this second time around and while things were very similar to losing Jacob, they were also very different.  I have worked hard to allow myself the space I need to feel how I need to when I need to.  After all, having to experience everything from joy to shock to worry to fear to sadness in six short days, was definitely a lot to process in such a short time. I know you understand all of that and you know nothing but the purest of love there is to know.  I am so grateful for that. I am so grateful for you, God's miracle gift that came to us when we least expected it.

Mommy loves you so much and always will...my Lily Grace. <3

Love, Mommy

Six Days of Grace - Remembering Lily Grace on Her One Year Angelversary

I wish I could say that I've figured out how to grieve for my tiny daughter.  I wish I could say that I've felt a stronger connection to her in the past year.  I wish I could say that a year has made all the difference in healing from her loss.

But I can't.

In some ways I feel like not much has changed from last year.  I feel like I'm at the same point where I was when we lost our baby girl.  Am I a mess?  Am I lost and confused?  No, none of those things. I just don't feel how I wish I felt, if that makes sense.

Let me take you back to just one year ago...our fertility treatments had stopped.  Stopping wasn't planned or intentional, it just sort of happened.  I had a cyst one month, another month Alex was out of town, another month we didn't have the money for the IUI.  Eventually, enough time passed that we just never went back.  One of my doctors had pretty much given me the verbal "heave ho" anyway--his comments, "We've been pushing the envelope here for months..." summed up my lack of success in their eyes and it didn't seem like he wanted to spend any more time on me. I always felt like he felt I was a lost cause. I was too old, better to save his time and effort find solutions for women with a chance.  For the first month ever, the Femara hadn't worked.  My follicles just didn't grow.  I remember being so frustrated because every other month at least one or two had grown to the right size.  But not that month.  And then the next month, I had a cyst so they couldn't give me the Femara, obviously. So that was that.

For awhile, we were diligent in our own efforts at trying.  I'd anxiously await the smiley faced ovulation test each month and would be thrilled with the happy little face greeted me on the bathroom counter.  I mean, I was ovulating.  WHOO HOO!  Not bad for perimenopause woman.  I took every little success and celebrated it with thanks.

Well, last March 24, 2013 we had just returned home from my mom's house where we had been for the weekend.  Turns out a late blizzard had hit the area and we drove home under rather scary conditions.  Alex and the boys had gone to bed and for some reason, I walked straight into the bathroom and decided to test. Didn't give it a thought of any kind. Just did it.

This is what's weird.  No, I had not had a period and was technically late.  But I never once considered that I could be pregnant.  Not once.  I dismissed it.  Had I felt more tired?  Yes.  But I am up late a lot so figured that was the cause.  Boobs?  Ironically, yes they were a bit sore which I admit was strange but I figured I had pulled a muscle or that I laid on them funny.  Sounds silly to even say that but that's how quickly I dismissed the pregnancy symptoms I had been feeling.  I remember one of my friends even saying I could be pregnant and that I should test, but I laughed it off.  No, not me. This must be how menopause starts, right?   Your period stops.  That's what I thought.  Plain and simple.

That night after returning home in the snow though I had a sudden urge to test. I hadn't thought about it, hadn't been planning to, I just did.  And surprisingly I had a pregnancy test in the cupboard.  To this day I believe it was God's little urging that pushed me to pull that stick out that night.

And then it happened.  I hadn't even been looking at the test for awhile and when I glanced over, I about died.  Two pink lines. Two of the prettiest lines I never, ever thought I'd see again in person. Those two pink lines that for each of my previous pregnancies I had taken for granted.  Every woman who wants to have a baby does, only some had problems.  Talk about naive and stupid.  I didn't know much, never feared getting pregnant and never had a problem with it until now.  And now, here were those beautiful pink lines I had been longing to see once more. Sitting there as plain as day. No blurred lines, no question about fading, they were vibrant, pink and there.

I remember my heart pounding and I thought, "Okay, you don't need to have a heart attack over this. Calm down!"  I tried to resume breathing as I walked through the dark hallway to our bedroom.  Alex was still awake reading and I didn't have time to come up with a cutesy way of telling him so I just walked in and handed him the test.  I will never forget the smile on his face.  He was more shocked than I was!  Ever since we got  my initial test results back showing how abysmal my numbers were (AMH, FSH), he seriously had doubts that we would ever conceive again, let alone on our own.  I always said it was in God's hands, that anything was possible and that's where we left it. We went through the motions, we tried, but we went into it knowing the odds were stacked against us due to my age.

I almost missed it, being pregnant, that is.  I thank God that I didn't though.

You see, things weren't right. I knew that they weren't. I had some strange pain/ache and knew I didn't have that with either Sammy or Benny, even Jacob's pregnancy was uneventful.  So in my heart I think I already knew that things were going wrong with this miracle pregnancy so I was trying to prepare my heart as much as possible.

A miracle pregnancy.  I choose to see it as that. Was it "successful"? Well, it depends on how you define success. Did we conceive?  Yes. Did we do it on our own without any medical intervention?  Yes. Did we beat the odds we were given?  Yes.  Doctors had told us we had a less than 2% chance of ever conceiving on our own again.  And yet we did.  So, it was a miracle.  It came to us when we least expected it.  When we had all but given up hope that we just wouldn't walk this path of pregnancy ever again. But that night we found our footsteps on that sweet path of joy, anticipation and hope.

It's so said that that path didn't last long.  Our miracle was short-lived to say the least. Six days.  That's all we had.  I tested on Sunday, March 24, 2013. I went to the OB and had my pregnancy confirmed on March 26.  I had more blood work done on March 27 which came back strong and looking good.  But then it all crashed on March 28 when more blood work confirmed a drop in Hcg, the ultrasound showed an empty sac and that the miscarriage was starting.  And on March 29, the final day, we said good-bye to our tiny baby that we never even saw. I had a D&C on Good Friday.  Six horribly short days to celebrate, worry, hope and mourn.

I'm calling this week of celebration, remembrance and love for my Lily Grace, "Six Days of Grace:  Remembering Lily Grace on Her One-Year Angelversary".  Grace.  How much this means to me in so many ways...God's grace. I truly believe that He had a mighty hand in so much of what happened last year.  I wonder what would have happened had I never tested that snowy night.  The miscarriage would have ramped up surely and the pain would have increased. I would have either lost Lily at home, at my mom's for spring break or I would have ended up in the ER wondering what was going on.  And then there would have been no time to rejoice, to be excited, to dream, to hope...

I believe God wanted me to have those few days...just a few...so that I could be happy, so that I could acknowledge my tiny baby even if for a short time as alive.  I had always said that if we ever got pregnant again, I'd shout it from the rooftops. Well I did just that. I shouted it from the rooftops of Facebook, anyway, and that was close enough.  I wanted people to know that a miracle had happened. I wanted people to know that we were rejoicing in the tiny life that I was carrying, I wanted people to know how very, very much we loved that little baby...even though we feared the worst.

I can't tell you how much every one's support meant to me when we did make the announcement. I had so many friends tell me they were literally crying tears of joy for me...I knew so many people were praying too.  It's indescribable to say what that kind of love and support means and does for you during something like what we went through those six days.  I never knew I had so many people pulling for me. So many of my sweet baby loss friends had gone on to have successful "rainbow" pregnancies--a rainbow baby is that baby that comes after the "storm" of loss.. They know had their precious rainbow babies in their arms and wanted so much for me to have that joy too.

I thought I'd share what I wrote one year ago on March 26, 2013:

It is with great joy that I announce that I am a mommy to 4 children. Yes, you read that right.  Late Sunday night, I had the shock of a lifetime--I found out that I was pregnant. Most of you know that we lost our precious Jacob back in October 2010. We have been trying to conceive ever since then and even went through fertility treatments for a short time. Recently, we hadn't paid much attention to things and accepted that due to my 'perimenopause' state (heading towards menopause), our chances were not good. Doctors gave us a 1-2% chance of conceiving again on our own (w/o fertility). And yet, miraculously, we did. I always knew that anything was possible with God, and indeed we and He proved our doctors wrong. I almost passed out when I saw the two lines...my heart flip-flopped and I thought, "let's not have a heart attack now!". Alex was likewise shocked. The boys are beyond excited. I can only guess that I may be approaching 8 weeks at this point, but again, because our efforts and my tracking were rather haphazard, I cannot confirm exactly how far along I am. 

I went to the doctor this evening and while there were several good things, my heart is heavy because one thing stands out as potentially a sign of trouble. Just today I started spotting, not heavy and not "red" but the doctor saw it and said it was "enough to raise an eyebrow." She did confirm that some women spot/bleed and cramp throughout the entire pregnancy and all is just fine. The good things are that my cervix is still closed, there are no blood clots, my cervix is big (meaning it didn't stop growing early on) and it is more than likely not an ectopic pregnancy. I rejoice so much in the good news. 

I had blood work done and we will know tomorrow my pregnancy hormone and progesterone levels. These are just one piece of the puzzle. We go back TH morning for my ultrasound and more blood work. Each piece of the puzzle will show us what we are facing. It is possible the baby has passed already, may be soon on it's way to passing, or may be just fine. At this point the doctor wants confirm the viability of the pregnancy.

I always said that if I ever conceived again I would shout it from the rooftops. I would celebrate this miraculous little life with absolute joy and love. We have proved the doctors wrong. We have beat the odds we were given. We know this journey may be short as far as the amount of time our precious baby spends with us here on earth, but then again it may be long. It is in God's hands. 

So hear me now, I am shouting with joy, I AM PREGNANT!!! Please join with our family in joy and happiness that there is a tiny life being added to our family. I am a mommy who loves all 4 of her children deeply. ♥♥♥♥

Oh, and on a light note...Benny told me earlier that I was "...looking a little fat.” J

Four babies. Who would have thought that I'd have four children?  I don't think I ever would have considered it if you would have asked me years ago.  Of course I never would have thought that two of them would live in Heaven either.  

Like I said when I started this post, in many ways I still feel like I'm back where I was one year ago--bouncing around somewhere between joy and frustration trying to figure out how you grieve a baby like Lily Grace. I think that's truly what has weighed on me the most through this past year...I'll write more on that tomorrow.  

For now, let me just thank those of you who are reading this and sharing in my journey for the first time, as well as those of you who were here one year ago.  Grace.  God's gift when we don't deserve it.  I didn't deserve another pregnancy, my heart was full of doubt and fear even to the point that I had missed pregnancy symptoms for weeks, but yet one year ago I was blessed with the chance to know the joy of new motherhood again, even if for just a few days.  What a priceless gift.

Thank you for coming with me on this journey as I remember my baby girl...my sweet Lily Grace. <3

Kim

Three years later on Jacob's Anniversary

It's funny how time seems to go so slow when we are waiting for something like a pregnancy test result or to open a Christmas present...but so fast when we are trying to savor every moment and to remember every tiny detail from a special time in our lives.

Three years ago tonight...October 24, 2010.  Was I asleep?  Knowing me and how my body operates, probably not yet.  Had I been crying?  Yes.  I know I definitely shed tears all weekend.  

It was the night before my originally scheduled and monthly OB visit.  We had just returned home from my mom's who lived about 3.5 hours north of us.  We had already been planning on going home that weekend in order to celebrate her birthday, but we had no idea that her birthday weekend would be overshadowed by the news of our baby's future.

Just three days prior to today we found out the news. We heard the kind of news that parents dread hearing. We received a fatal diagnosis for our sweet baby.

That week had certainly thrown me.  I remember calling my mom and telling her the news and she was in disbelief.  Ever supportive and upbeat, I remember my mom trying to reassure me that our baby would be fine. I think in all honesty too, she was shocked at the news. After all, everything was fine. Everything HAD been fine. That's so often the story that I hear from other baby loss parents. Everything was fine until that one day that their lives were changed forever.

So I had told my mom the news of her grandson's Trisomy 13 diagnosis and how the specialist that we had seen for my in-depth ultrasound didn't have much hope for our baby to survive much longer.  I remember debating whether or not we should go home for that weekend. We had planned a happy celebration for my mom and I knew my boys would love throwing Grandma a party.  I also knew that I had family who would be there who were also announcing their joyful news of pregnancy.  

I remember feeling like I was losing my footing that week.  It was just a time full of grayness and full of anxiety.  I called my family who was to attend and asked if under the circumstances, if they could celebrate my mom's birthday at a different time.  I just couldn't handle any sort of awkwardness that weekend and that being anything that came from me. I knew my mom could handle anything and didn't care about her birthday. She cared about us. But I told her we would still celebrate it for our boys. They needed as much normalcy as possible and especially since we had no clue what was coming next.  The family who was to originally come, I felt deserved time with my mom to celebrate their new joy and I didn't want anything to interfere with that. And since I had no clue from one day to the next how I would be feeling emotionally, I had to make that hard call.

I was right. The weekend was very emotional from the first step I took into my mom's house to the last.  I cried a lot. I moped a lot. I was as strong as I could be when my boys were around but when they weren't, there were a lot of deep discussions about everything possible that might happen with our baby--including if my life would be in danger and could I agree to abort if that was recommended?  After all, the specialist we had seen had actually encouraged that action on the VERY DAY we found out Jacob's diagnosis.  I barely could process what he was telling us, let alone know anything about Trisomy 13 and here was this doctor suggesting that it would be a "good thing" so that people would never know I had been pregnant...therefore I'd never have to explain and get upset????

We had many discussions like these throughout the weekend.  It was a very emotional time for us.  I remember asking Mom to pose for a picture with me right before we left for home so she could have a picture with her and her grand baby.  That photo said it all.  I didn't have any make up on and I looked a mess. My eyes looked weary from crying. I wore a peach maternity shirt with a sparkly silver design on the front. I tried my best to smile but couldn't.  I never wore that shirt again. That is definitely one detail that I do remember and have never forgotten.

Little did I know that the torture I had been enduring since learning of our sweet baby's diagnosis on October 21 would soon end only a short 4 days later on October 25.

October 24 was the last night I went to bed pregnant.  It was the last night I went to bed crying and praying for my baby to be okay and for that doctor to be wrong.  It was the last night I went to bed fretting over what the future would bring and how could I get through the next several months of uncertainty.  It was the last night I went to bed with my hand lying gently on my tummy with my baby still alive inside.

I sit here tonight thinking of that short, sudden and incredibly painful journey.  I wish I could remember every last detail of those days…what else did I wear that week, who else did I talk with, when did I cry…what did Sammy say? And Benny?  What were their faces like? What had Alex said?  Who had he called?  Unfortunately, time steals a lot of those details we want to cling to.  Could I get some of those details back? I’m sure I could. As a writer, I know that you can transport yourself back to a time with certain questions, “triggers” such as a physical reminder or even just relaxing and giving me time to remember.  But of course, busy me…I have a lot of my plate so some of those details may have to wait to be uncovered another day.

Why do I want to go back there you might be wondering?  Is it to relive the pain?  Oh no.  Not at all.  Not for one minute.  It’s simply because any details I have about my Baby Jacob helps me to feel close to him. It keeps him alive in my heart and in our lives as well.  Everyone has a story. Well, this is my son’s.  It is important to me to remember his story and to share it.  But mostly to love him…without a doubt to love him.  His story is all about love--his Mommy's love for him always.

Does that mean that I won’t cry if I see that photo of my mom and me again someday?  By the way, it’s kind of misplaced…I actually think it may be on a card that may be damaged. My luck, huh?   If I ever do get that picture pulled back up, sure, I may just cry upon seeing it. But that’s okay.  I would cry because I remember. I would cry for that woman who was facing such pain that night. I would cry because I love my baby.

Three years.  

In the last three years I’ve grown so much since losing my baby.  I’ve learned so much. I wouldn’t have changed a thing aside from keeping him here with me.  But I know he’s in a beautiful place right now and that brings me more joy than I can even explain.  He’s free from all pain and sorrow.  He knows only love, love and more love.  Some day, he will turn around and see his Mommy running towards him.  Actually maybe I'll be leaping!  Or dancing!  Or doing cartwheels which I always wanted to learn how to do but never could learn!!  Wouldn't that be something to see?  And he will giggle and smile and clap his hands as he sees his silly Mommy approaching.  And I'll feel like my heart could just burst out of me right then and there.  

Whatever happens, I know I will take in every beautiful detail of that moment and will treasure it forever.

Government Shutdowns and Babyloss...

Three years ago on October 1, I was happily pregnant with my third child.  I had just announced our pregnancy, or was getting close to it, I can't remember the dates exactly.  Old age, I guess. :)

The boys were thrilled to be big brothers.  Alex and I wondered if we might have a little girl this time, but we felt that our sweet baby was probably a boy.  I was shopping for a cute shirt to wear to my Tri Sigma Homecoming Event. I hadn't been back in years and looked forward to seeing all of my sisters again.  The weather was just starting to turn--leaves, temperatures--yes, everything was lining up to be a beautiful fall.

And then came my 12.5 week in-depth ultrasound on October 21 where we learned of Jacob's "fatal diagnosis".  He was diagnosed with Trisomy 13.  And then the horrific news that no parent wants to hear hit us on October 25, 2010. Our baby's heart had stopped beating.  Our son, whom we named Jacob Alexander, had died at exactly 13 weeks. It was a Monday.

What followed was a whirlwind of emotions. I felt tossed about in a storm that had taken me completely by surprise.  Eventually and thankfully, the light shown again and I moved towards healing.

Three years later as I find myself drawn towards my Jacob and reflecting on what happened back then, I'm caught up in another storm.  The weather is starting to turn.  We can't wait to take the boys' outdoor fall photo shoot as I have every year since they were babies. We are lining up fall festivals to attend--one of our favorite pastimes in the fall!  The boys can't wait for Halloween and keep changing their minds about what costumes they'll wear.  And with October kicking off the National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I'm excited to take this time to remember my sweet babies and to reach out to so many women who've lost too...through cards, supportive posts on facebook and prayer.

But there is this storm that I mentioned...this storm's winds are blurring everything that had been lining up to be yet another beautiful fall. I'm already fighting tears.  And this one doesn't just affect me, it affects countless Americans.  It is the Government Shutdown that just happened today.

Instead of seeing the colors of fall, right now the color I'm focused on mainly green...that is, cash.  We have no idea if this shutdown, i.e. my husband's furlough, will last for several days, weeks, months?  Will we get a paycheck next Friday?  How much?  Will he be paid retroactively?  We don't know.  No one knows.

So many unanswered questions remind me of how I felt three years ago...while these two storms are very different, in many ways they are the same. You are left struggling.  You are left with so many questions---why? why did this have to happen? why me???  I remember asking the same thing when I lost Jacob. Why did we get pregnant if my eggs were so "old" that we were simply going to lose our precious child?  How will I get through this?  What do I do next?

Wow, I had no idea I'd be facing the same feelings three years later.  I'm left wondering why our government can't "play nice"...why they continue to sacrifice us and so many families to prove their points...I'm left asking every "how" question in the book. How on EARTH will we get through this?  How will we survive if money doesn't start coming back in? We just came off of the summer furlough...I mean, literally, we JUST CAME OFF of it.  And now, this??

And lastly, what do I do next?  My planning self wants to revamp our budget...trouble is, what do I budget?  If there is potentially no money coming in, what do I budget?  What?  How? Why?

My friends, I wish so much that I had answers. I wish that I had them for me and for any one of you who are in a similar boat being tossed about right now. These storms suck. Yes, they just suck.  I hate them.

But as I think back to the storm three years ago, I find myself holding on to one thing.  I survived. I made it through.  Somehow, with God's help, with His Steady Hand on my heart, I made it through.  I found hope. I found joy. I found peace. I love remembering my Jacob. I love thinking about him.  I love helping other baby loss moms now as they find themselves stumbling through this journey of loss.

I know God is with me.  He is with my family during this storm.  While I'm struggling with my planning self who desperately wants to find answers--to prepare for every 'what if' under the sun--I know I have to just give this all to God. I have to give Him every last piece of it.

Do I know how to do that?  No. I will be honest.  I don't.  But I know it's what I am to do...somehow.  I will keep praying. I will cry. I will know that my Father hears every pain in my heart.  And that's enough. Somehow I know that's enough. I don't have to be perfect in my prayers. I don't have to quote the best Bible verses.  I know He takes me as I am with all of my flaws and worried and with my over-dependency on myself...He takes me with all of my "what ifs" and panicking moments.

So tonight on Day 1 of the Government Shutdown I go to bed with those feelings on my heart. I want to close my eyes and drift into a peaceful sleep that only God can bring.  I know He will guide our family through this storm.  And, yes.  October and all of the beautiful things in it aren't going anywhere.  It is still a beautiful season that our family will enjoy as much as possible.  It still will be full of candy corn, Kit Kats and Reese Cups.  It will still be a chance for me to write about Jacob, to share his story and to remember all of those precious babies lost.

Tonight I pray for my blurry and weary eyes to be cleared so that I may see only the beauty this month.  I want to see red and gold leaves.  I want to see my children's faces erupt in laughter as they act out their Halloween costumed character (whoever they pick).  I want to see Jacob's balloon launch high into the sky on his anniversary.  And I trust God for the rest.

With much love for you my friends, however this month finds you...

Kim

A giveaway!!!

Hello Everyone!

Long time no write!!  :)  I'm so sorry!!  Sheesh, every time I came out here something prohibited me from writing.  So much to catch up on!  And I will get you caught up, just not all at once. :)

I wanted to kick-off my "come back" with a wonderful giveaway by a sweet friend of mine, Beth Morey!  She is a fellow baby loss mom that I have known for the past two years and is such a generous woman!

She has recently followed her dream and has created an online course called "Made:  Exploring God-Centered Creativity". It starts on September 2 and runs for 16 weeks with a different course each week.  Now, anyone who knows me well knows that I am FAR FAR from artistic. :)  That's okay!  This course will include art, writing, photography, journalling, etc. and all from a Christian perspective. The supplies are minimal and easy to acquire. The price is affordable and the flexibility is there!  If you can't take each weekly course, or aren't interested, you don't have to!

In honor of Beth's birthday, she is giving away THREE spots in her course!!  That's right THREE!! She is also giving away THREE pieces of her beautiful artwork.  You can find her at Epiphany Art Studio.

So...interested?  Why not check it out and enter into her giveaway?  You'll find yourself at a great blog, you'll get to check out MADE and even walk through her art studio...you have everything to gain!

Enter at: www.bethmorey.com

Thanks so much friends!  I look forward to resuming my journey of motherhood with you....sooo much to catch up with!  Thank you for sticking with me!!

Kim :)

Remembering Jacob's loss - two year's later

I learned something this week.

Well, or perhaps I was just reminded of something.  Maybe I needed to be reminded of it actually.

About a week and half ago or so I noticed something in my quiet moments around the house.  Because of our schedule lately, quiet moments for me are often hard to come by and usually not until late at night when everyone else is asleep.  But as few as they were that busy week, they were there.  And out of the blue I felt a sadness during those times, like something was pulling me ever so gently...but it was pulling me and weighting me down with a glum feeling that I couldn't figure out and that I didn't like.  I didn't have time to be down. 

I knew it wasn't time for my period...isn't that what we typically look for?  :)  Well, surely there must be some reason for my moping around the house, I bet it's PMS.  That's the first thing I questioned.  Such an easy explanation although that didn't fit for me.  Neither did being pregnant and newly pregnant hormones, unfortunately.  So what could it be?  Why amidst the busy fall activities that we were enjoying day after day was this down feeling creeping in to my schedule?

I didn't think much about it, because like I said, my quiet times have been rare and minimal so I just brushed the nagging sorrow aside and continued with my day-to-day activities and events.  Planning, coordinating, remembering, shopping, cleaning, more planning, thinking, etc.  All in a day's work for me.

Last weekend Alex was out of town for drill and it was just the boys and I. I  had a million things on my to do list including working on things for Jacob's anniversary (and some other things which I will keep a secret for now), possibly blogging, and tackling every possible project needing done around the house.  I'm always a tad over-ambitious when he's out of town. :) 

On Saturday the boys and I joined some friends and I at our church for a Family Fall Festival and Trunk-or-Treat.  The boys had a ball romping on the playground.  All of the kids were hanging, running, chasing, climbing, sliding...and all in costume.  A snow fairy, fireman, two cats, Snow White, a goth girl, a nanny, Darth Vader, a shark and tons of other characters frolicked for hours out there.  We had a chili cook-off.  The kids filled up their buckets and bags with candy.  They made fall crafts.  We sang with the new Pastor around a bonfire eating s'mores.  We watched "The Nightmare Before Christmas."  It was such an enjoyable evening.

And then came Sunday.  It started out normal enough.  I was planning dinner for when Alex would come home.  Doing laundry.  Called my dad. 

But before I knew it, a friend of mine unintentionally hurt me.  It wasn't a big thing but it hurt all the same. I know she didn't mean it and probably wasn't aware of how her words came across but it seemed to release a lot of the sadness that I had felt building throughout the past week.  And the tears that had been building finally came.

That night my mom and I talked for two hours about every possible thing on my mind.  Every worry, fret, frustration, you name it came out.  I cried.  I laughed with my mom. I  was so grateful for her time and for doing what she always does best, making me feel better.  Eventually I put myself and that strange Sunday to bed.

The first thought that popped into my head Monday morning when I woke up was there without any conscious thinking about the night before, without any wondering about what had sent my mood spiralling, it was just...there.  I can't explain it any more than that.  Almost as if the words just marched out right in front of me one by one...

Sunday was October 21.  Two years ago on the 21st we found out the devastating news that Jacob more than likely had Trisomy 13 and would not survive to be born, let alone live much longer into the pregnancy.

That was it.  It dawned on me that that was why I had been in such a sullen state...it had been building underneath the surface all week and had to come out on Sunday.  Those feelings couldn't be kept in or quiet or stifled, they needed to come out.  It didn't matter how busy I kept myself, how many times I smiled throughout the week at all of the good things in my life, the memories were still there.  The heart knew.  The heart knows.  It always knows.  The heart will always know.

I know this is nothing new but for me it's a beautiful thing to think about and to reflect on throughout my journey as a mother, and especially as a mother to my son in Heaven.  It doesn't matter how long into my journey I will be, how much healing occurs, how well I move forward, how much I reach out to other baby loss moms...my love for my child will always be there.  It doesn't go anywhere.  It doesn't stop when your baby passes.  It doesn't weaken and fade away over time.  It stays.  It remains.  It's a part of me and always will be.  Because Jacob is part of me.  He is my child.  He existed.  He still exists, just not here with us on Earth. 

And so my love exists for him...always.

I went into the month of October, "Jacob's Month", as you may remember me referring to it, with joy in my heart and with excitement in my steps as I looked forward to all of the beautiful opportunities we had to celebrate our precious baby.  The HEAL Walk to Remember kicked off our month.  I planned our local Face2Face Dayton (part of Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope) October 15th Event, I lit candles for and remembered babies of friends of mine and I looked forward to Jacob's actual day...a day all for him...today, the second anniversary of his death.

So yes, I knew all of this was coming. I knew there would be tears.  There would be memories.  There would be joy and so much love. 

But I think to tell you the truth I hadn't been actively thinking of October 21 on or around that date.  Does that make sense?  But my heart did.  It remembered how profound that date was and always will be in our lives.  It was one of those dates which changed everything.  Our plans for our third and final baby to add to our family were cruelly halted by the news of Jacob's fatal diagnosis.  Everything stopped that day.  How could I not feel an echo of what I felt two years ago?  I had to.  My heart just reminded me, that's all.

Funny thing.  On Monday, I felt fine.  The tugging sadness that I'd felt all week had disappeared.  The challenging Sunday was now just a memory.  It was back to normal life.  I'd like to think that what happened was just a normal step along this journey.  There will always be certain times where the emotions are more intense, where the memories are more fresh...such is the nature of grief, even when healing has occurred.

And do you know what?  That is okay.  It is okay to allow those times and to feel what you need to feel.  I am so glad my heart gave me a gentle reminder to go back to that day when the doctor put his hand on to mine and said, "I'm sorry."  Two words which altered everything that day and every moment since then.  While I may not have revisited that day through remembering actively, I didn't need to.  My heart knew.  It remembered.

And so here I sit.  It is now Jacob's Second Angelversary.  Sometime today on October 25, 2010 and before 5:00 PM, my sweet little baby's heart stopped beating.  He made it 13 weeks. I was 13 weeks exactly.  I've said it before, but it brings me such comfort to know that he was with me then.  That I knew exactly when he died. 

We had faced so much anxiety, anguish, uncertainty and pain in the days from October 21 up to October 25.  We carried a lot of fear in those days too...how would we handle not knowing our baby's future, what if my life would have been at risk for carrying him, what would happen if I miscarried later, or if he passed away later into the pregnancy, or if he lived to be born but only for a few moments...so much fear and pain in those days. 

Almost the same as how my journey started with the doctor's "I'm sorry", came my OB's "Kim, I"m so sorry..." on October 25 but only after I verbalized what I saw first. I knew when I looked at the screen on the opposite side of the room amidst the silence that my baby was gone.  My beloved little flicker had stopped...the little flicker that I loved to watch in Jacob was no longer beating and my baby was still, kind of stretched out as it he had just taken a nap.

Mommy knew.  Mommy knew her sweet baby had gone home to Heaven and had opened his eyes in Jesus' arms.

So with that, I'll close for now.  I'll be back to update more on Jacob's Angelversary later.  Thank you all for being a part of my journey for the last two years.  Your support means more to me and our family than you will ever know.

My dearest Jacob,

Mommy loves you so much! I miss you and wish so much that you were here with us.  You would be 18 mos and 5 days. :)  Oh, I can't even imagine how big you'd be!  How you would laugh and squeal and cuddle with me. 

It brings me so much comfort to know that you are alive and well and happy in Heaven. I know when we are reunited some day, I won't be able to stop hugging and kissing you. I hope you won't mind all of my love for you pouring out all at once! 

Today makes two years since you left us and since you went home to Heaven.  No matter how much time passes, I will never forget you.  I will always be your Mommy and I am so honored and happy to be your Mommy. I will always remember you. I will always cherish you and the time I carried you. I will treasure your ultrasound pictures and your story. I will forever love you. 

I love you sweetie.  I always will.

Love,
Mommy

We all hold you in our hearts, until we can hold you in person...forever...
Love Mommy, Daddy, Sammy and Benny
October 25, 2012

(photo taken at HEAL Walk to Remember, October 6, 2012...we were the last family in the garden)

On the eve of the Walk...

My dearest Jacob,

Mommy is sitting here tonight thinking about tomorrow's Walk to Remember.  It will be our second Walk since losing you almost two years ago.  Sometimes it seems like an entire year has passed since our first emotional and healing experience there, other times it seems like just a short while ago that I started the event full of tension and tears, but ended it with a much-welcomed sense of peace in my heart.

I have been looking forward to this event for months.  Why?  Because I need to feel close to you.  And this event really helps me to do that.  I know it sounds dumb to like an event as something to "help me" feel close to you, and I hope it doesn't sound like I can't feel close to you without doing something like this.  But you know Mommy.  Mommy is busy taking care of your big brothers and your daddy.  It seems like Mommy is always doing something, huh? :)  So when an event as special as this comes around....something that is solely focused on you and you alone...it is just the time I need to quiet everything else and let me just be your Mommy...and let my love for you spill out of me.  You are my baby and you always will be my baby. I need to be your Mommy.  That's who I am.  I can't not be your Mommy.  It doesn't matter if it's one day after losing you or almost two years.  I will always be your Mommy and my love for you will never be turned off.  It can't.  It just isn't possible.  And so I will always be close to you.  And I will always cherish events like this where I get to focus on feeling close to you.

I look forward to this celebration of you sweetheart...tomorrow we and hundreds of more family members will remember all of our sweet babies and children who left us too soon.  We will remember you.  We will honor you.  We will miss you.  And we will celebrate our overwhelming love for each of you.  And we will cry for you.  The tears may start out heavy and weighted with sadness full of "whys" and "if onlys".  But then hopefully our tears will lighten with joy, hope and love.  I know that's my hope and I bet that's your hope for Mommy too.  I remember how at peace I felt last year watching the last of the orange and black balloons dot the sky.  It was as if my tears purged the anxiety I felt coming into this event--it was after all my first public and "official" good-bye to you in this manner. There was something that scared me about that "good-bye".  It was so official.  Up until then, we had not yet reached your anniversary so time was measured as if we had just lost you, rather than moving into the "one year later" and so on phase of loss and grief.  And so I had no idea what to expect when I came to the Walk in 2011.  I certainly did not expect to break down at each table in the parking lot while I was so tenderly greeted by HEAL Volunteers handing me name tags, balloon tags and butterflies--all on which to write your name.

Your name.  Your sweet name.  How I love to hear your name.  How I love to see your name written!  Jacob.  Jacob Alexander.  Your name sings to my heart...I try to hard to imagine what it would be like hearing your name said aloud on a daily basis as a part of our normal family routine--"Jacob needs his bath tonight," or perhaps, "What time is Jacob's doctor appointment tomorrow?"  or perhaps, "Aw, look Jacob!  Big Brothers, Sammy and Benny, are sharing their cuddly guys with you!" 

But our daily family chatter does not include your sweet name in that way...and so I cherish whenever your name does come up.  If Benny finds a giraffe somewhere and wants me to buy it for "Baby Jacob", I feel my heart smile inside.  Sammy talks of you too, just not as often as he used to.  At least not on his own initiative like when he was younger.  He is growing up; Benny too, but Sammy is starting to find his way out of the sweet, sweet innocence of younger childhood.  After all, he is a big first grader now, you know. :)

If not Benny, probably the other person uttering your name on as much of a regular basis as possible is Mommy.  Me. :)  I think of you so often, and say your name aloud whenever I can.  Just today we were riding in the car on the way to the Spring Valley Potato Festival.  The colors were so pretty!  I can't believe fall just seemed to sneak up on us as quickly as it did!  It was almost like overnight the colors started changing--bright golds, vibrant reds, warm oranges and soft greens.  Daddy had said something about the beautiful scenery along the drive and I said, "I wish Jacob was here to see this.  Although I'm sure what he is seeing is so much prettier than what we have."

Do you think that's silly when we say things like that?  How could anything ever top the sights of Heaven? I know that you have the prettiest colors imaginable there in your sights all the time. You don't have to wait for seasons, they are there whenever you open your eyes.  I guess we, I, say things like that because we miss you.  Even though I know you are so happy and at peace right now, the selfish part of me as your Mommy wishes you were here in my arms.  I wish I could show you the pretty leaves. I wish I could take you out on our upcoming fall photo shoot--the one I do every year for your brothers, and that I've done every year since they were babies.  I'd take you out this year and plop you down on a blanket of oranges, yellows and reds. You would be almost 18 months old.  Of course, I'd help make that blanket as pretty as I could by moving leaves if I had to for just the right background! :)  But then I'd sit you in the pile and let you explore to your heart's content. I'd lay down on damp earth and take tons and tons of pictures of you from every angle.  I'd look up at your sweet face and try to catch you smile with a red leaf in your hand and the bright blue sky overhead.  And then later I'd send Grandma all of the bazillion pictures I took of you and she and I would gush over every single one of them.

This is the second fall we've gone through without you, my sweet baby.  The second season where we remember losing you.  I try not to associate the beauty of the fall with the pain of your loss because I know you wouldn't want that for me.  I know you want Mommy to love every pretty leaf that falls.  And I do.  And so do your brothers.  And so does your Daddy, especially now that we live in Ohio and get to experience fall all season long.  I'm glad that what I've come to call, "Jacob's Month", is right when all of this beauty abounds.  We go to festivals.  We smell the fall scents dancing in air.  We hug each other a little closer when the bitter air sends a chill down our necks.  But through it all, you are there with us.  Because this is your month.  What better way to keep you included in everything we do and enjoy this month than to wrap all of these family events in between your events.

Take tomorrow's Walk.  We went to a Potato Festival today.  Your brothers picked out their pumpkins today.  They are nice and big too!  Perfect for Daddy to carve!  And tomorrow, we will walk for you.  Next week we will dance at Bob Evans' Farm Festival.  And then the very next day, on the 15th, we will release a balloon and light a candle for you as a part of the National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  We will take your brothers to our church's Trunk or Treat the following weekend.  And then we will have your special day...October 25th.  See, baby?  You are always on our minds and in our hearts, but this month especially we have so many days set aside to remember you and to love you.  I think October has come to be one of my most favorite months for this reason.

Will you be watching us tomorrow Jacob?  Will you look down from Heaven and see Mommy carrying your giraffe?  The poor thing is getting beat up. His neck is getting floppy.  I don't care.  Since I can't carry you, I will carry your giraffe.  He is my little guy to hug, especially at night whenever I miss you, when I cry sometimes and just want to see you and to hold you...when I miss you.  I just wish I could see you, baby.  Just once in a dream.  It is my wish and always will be.  Just once...to see you...

Will you see Mommy with your giraffe tomorrow?  Will you see your brothers holding their balloons?  Will you see Mommy and Daddy cry together like we did last year?  I hope you see us but most importantly I hope you feel our love for you. I hope you feel it floating all the way up to Heaven on a gentle breeze that lands on your cheek like the softest of kisses.

Will you see our balloons soaring high into the sky?  Your brothers are still young and sweet enough to think that balloons reach you in Heaven.  Who am I to say they can't?  Maybe they do in some beautiful way.  Maybe they reach you as brightly-colored pockets of love that come drifting into Heaven's playgrounds.  And you will stop playing with Grandpa just long enough to look up to see our love floating right into your arms.  You reach up, grab it and it pops all over you.  You giggle feeling the warmth of our love and joy at having you for our baby boy.  Maybe a few of our tears that sneak a ride with the balloons will pop over your face like a gentle spring rain and you will turn your face upwards with a smile, soaking all of our love in.  You know how very much we miss you.  Maybe that's how it is and maybe that's how it will work tomorrow.  Something as simple and as beautiful as that.

So tomorrow sweetie, I will go on my second Walk to Remember. I will cry.  I will walk. I will hold on to my balloon until the very last second, not wanting to let it go...not wanting to let you go.  I will remember you. I will love you.  You are my baby and I am your Mommy.  Always.

Mommy loves you, Jacob.

Love, Mommy

Crying for Jacob's Voice

Well, I'm back.  Again.

Talk about frustrating!  These delays in my blogging are so much fun.

You may remember that we returned from a 2.5 week trip to my mom's earlier this summer, June, to be exact.  Alex was out of town at both drill and a conference for work.  The boys and I enjoyed time with Mom, my step-dad and my grandma...soaking up the sounds of Grandma's polkas, Chico's hee haws from the pasture, the boys' giggles as Pa tickled them while watching TV and late night quiet conversations with mom at the kitchen table while we sewed some special projects.

When I first got back, I was able to write about my trip home which you have probably read by now. But then, after that my writing was hampered by the weather.  Can you believe it?  Due to powerful summer storms, we were out of power for 4 days in one storm and cable for almost 2 weeks.  When another storm hit less than 2 weeks later, we were again on the fritz, this time thankfully though not for as long.

My most recent challenge blocking me from writing in the past month or so?  I forgot my password.  Yup, something THAT simple.  Now, you may be wondering, why on earth didn't I just reset it?  Well, I finally was brave and took that step just now because I couldn't take it any longer. I've been away from my blog for long enough.  But I wasn't sure that I wanted to risk that action initially so thought I'd just keep trying to remember my password instead.

 Long story short, when we got new phones this summer, my google account got goofed up simply because the cell phone company had to reset my Gmail account.  They said the two were separate, but they weren't and so resetting one account erased the other at the same time.  I was terrified that I had lost access to my blog permanently.  I don't remember how I got things back up and running again but thankfully I did....complete with new password. 

Well, I wrote it down in a book and then misplaced the book.  Talk about frustrating. 

So here I am.  Once again trying to get things rolling in a consistent manner.  I know it's frustrating for me as a writer, I'm guessing it just may be frustrating for any of you who enjoy reading my blog.  I'm so sorry about that.

I have so many posts I need to write I'm not sure where to begin. 

I think I'll keep this one simple for now.  Three days ago I went to bed, crawled under the cool sheet, snuggled into my lumpy pillow and suddenly thoughts of Jacob popped into my head.  I am not sure why I started thinking of him in that manner and right then, but I did.  As I lay there with the fan blowing on my face and the air cleaner creating a soft white noise in the bedroom, I saw Jacob in my mind as I saw him alive for the last time in my ultrasound appointment on October 21, 2010.  It was a Thursday.  Funny how I will always remember some of those dates. I mean how many of us remember stuff like that?  Weird.

What I saw while I hoped to drift off was Jacob's mouth opening and closing as it had in the ultrasound.  I remember watching him and loving his little mouth moving so sweetly on the screen.  Of course this was all prior to the doctor placing his hand on mine and saying, "I'm sorry."

As I lay in my bed the other night remembering what I saw of my baby, I started to cry.  I have no idea why and what brought such emotion out of me so suddenly.  I remember thinking of his voice and how I never got to hear it.  How I won't hear his sweet voice until that day when we are reunited in Heaven.   Jacob would be turning two in a little less than 6 weeks and I still feel the pain of that silence....no cries, no giggles, no coos and no "mama"...all things that I still long to hear and perhaps especially that night when things were quiet and everyone was settled in bed.

Unplanned tears fell down my cheek.  I didn't bother to wipe them though. I just let them pool up on the pillow.  One by one they fell.  I stayed quiet and hugged Jacob's giraffe to my face.  My husband was asleep.  The dog was nestled at my feet.  Even the cat was hugging my husband's legs on the other side of the bed.  It was just me who was awake.  Who was remembering.  Who was missing my baby.

That night caught me off guard.  I know there are always times when I can get more emotional over Jacob, but this was one of those that popped up out of nowhere.  I'm glad it came though.  It might not make sense but I think we, as mothers of babies who have passed away, need to cry from time to time.  We need to have it smack us in the face when it can, to have it crush us...for just a little bit.  I think we need this in order to feel.  We need to feel that love for our babies and crying is a pretty strong emotion that allows us to feel that love so freely and without any fears or inhibitions. 

I know I've read so many stories of mothers who feel guilty when they start healing and moving forward.  They want to remember their baby, to keep them alive and to love them actively.  Once the initial pain and sadness passes and healing comes, the crying typically lessens which is a good thing obviously.  But sometimes I think healing can almost appear to create a bit of distance between mommy and baby.  I don't think any of us would want to remain in the freshest stage of grief when we first lost our babies as those depths of pain at a constant level would be pretty unbearable.  But I think what we want is to feel instead is that same level of closeness to them that we felt at their death.  Does that make sense?  I know at times since Jacob's death I've found myself questioning my actions..."Shouldn't I be crying more often?"  Other mommies write about missing their baby daily, every hour sometimes...they cry often.  Am I grieving enough?  The right way?  Have I moved forward in my healing too quickly?

Bet you didn't know that baby loss moms face those questions too.  Yes, I've heard so many of my friends question how they are grieving, and it gets especially bad when other friends or family offer feedback about how that mom is doing on her journey.  Unfortunately, often times that feedback isn't supportive and is very critical of the mom in how she chooses to remember her child or not, whether she comes to family functions where new babies are present and when she just needs to cry and to mourn her baby.  We all know there is no one right and only way to grieve for our babies even though we share so many of the same pains and frustrations trying to get through the heartbreak of losing our precious child.

At the beginning of this journey I knew that I had to find my own way through it.  I could learn from others, read, talk, and discuss everything under the sun but in the end only I would carve my own path through grief.  I had to figure it out.  I carried Jacob.  I carried the pain and anguish of losing him when I saw that his "little flicker" had gone quietly still on the ultrasound screen.  I carried overwhelming depths of sadness with me into the operating room for my D&C when all I wanted to do was to turn and run.  I am the one now who carries him still.  I figure out daily what to do to keep him actively in my life and in our family. I figure out when to cry and when to just smile and let my heart fill with so much joy it could blow away if it wasn't in my body.  I figure out when I have to write to express what frustrates me and what elates me on this journey. I figure out how to continue to be there to support so many of my baby loss friends who have had and who are delivering their beautiful rainbow babies.  There are always things that will pop up I guess that may throw me for a loop from time to time.  And I'll take each one as it comes.  This is my journey.

So, I cried for Jacob.  Totally unexpected, but totally welcomed.  It was brief, I drifted off missing him and loving him.  My head lay on the damp pillow and I couldn't hug Jacob's giraffe any tighter.  That was all.  But it was enough.  It was enough to know that my love for him will always be there, whether I cry buckets for him or just enough tears that my heart feels heavy...or even if I don't cry at all.  We are mommy and baby always...always connected by that bond and that love. 

Loving you, Jacob...tonight and always...

Love, Mommy

Reflections from Mom's Farm, Week 1

It's been a week since the boys and I came to my mom's.  It's been one week since I cried at my Sammy finishing Kindergarten.  Since I'd accomplished so many projects at home. Since I'd noticed so many changes that I bemoaned about in my blog.  I thought I'd share some of what we've been up to since getting a nice little break away from home...

My mom, step-dad, and grandma live on a small farm about 3.5 hours away from us.  Mom calls it a "hobby farm".  It never was a real working farm, even when my Grandpa was still alive.  But it did always have a big booming garden, plenty of chickens and the occasional horse, mule and sheep.  My mom and step-dad have animals now too:  a miniature donkey named Chico, a miniature horse named Shadow, several chickens that live in chicken coops such as "the Condo", and the "High rise", ducks in a duck house at the pond, barn cats and most recently bunnies. 

Mom's house has always been a place of peace for me.  You can't be outside walking around the beautiful land and not feel the peace, it doesn't matter what season.  It's out in the country but not too rural to be away from pizza delivery.  :) 

Going to Mom's will always mean going "home" for me.  It doesn't matter where she lives, it will always be home.  This home is extra special though.  My grandparents lived in this house and my mom and step-dad bought it several years ago in order to take care of my grandma.  Grandpa passed away in 1993 and Grandma had a stroke some time after.  Being wheel-chair bound, she needed someone to care for her.

Her house is full of memories from my childhood and young adulthood...the smell of her pies in the pantry, the crowded, yet always warm kitchen table bursting with food at family gatherings, the big red barn out back, Grandma's chickens...Mom and my step-dad brought life back to the farm when they started adding animals of their own.  It's just always been a special place to go and I love that my boys get to experience it too with their Grandma and Pa, just as I had when I was their age.

Below they are helping Grandma shuck corn the very first evening we arrived... My Grandma can only use her left hand, but does pretty well at every day tasks.

On Monday we went for "chicken dinner".  Notice there's no "a" before chicken dinner.  :)  That's how it's referred to around here.  Barberton is known for their chicken houses--restaurants famous for their fried chicken.  One chicken house started running a special on Monday nights so Mom and Grandma wanted to take advantage of it.  So we piled into Mom's car and went for "Chicken dinner". :)  It cracks me up to hear it referred to that way, but hey, it's quite tasty regardless of what it's called.  Every dinner comes with hot rice, fries and coleslaw.  Yum!

I went out after we came home to take some pictures. I had looked through Mom's kitchen window to see the sun setting and the rain droplets shimmering.

I like experimenting with different angles, different ways of looking at the same thing. 

These are taken with just a camera phone so aren't the best, but it was fun anyway. 

If you would have asked me years ago if I'd be taking as many flower and nature pictures as I do now, I'd have laughed and said you had me confused with Mom. :)  She's taken too many flowers pictures to count through the years.  Ever since Jacob's loss though, I've found myself so drawn to nature photography more than ever before.  And its just one more thing that Mom and I share a special passion for.

There are flowers Mom planted on the seat of Grandpa's wagon. 

My Grandpa had built this wagon back in the 1980s.  He passed away in 1993.  He had always hoped to ride the wagon in a parade, pulled by one the mules that he owned prior to getting sick.  Mom has done her best to protect the wagon through the years and keeps it on display on her patio.
I wish they could get it into a parade in honor of my grandpa, but I'm not sure if it's stable enough to move, and I don't think Shadow or Chico would be up to the task of pulling it unfortunately.

 A close up of Mom's flowers.

 I like how this leaf looked like a heart, especially with the sun highlighting it.

For some reason I decided to look up...and there was a rainbow. 

It was already starting to fade and as I quickly scanned the sky I knew the whole rainbow had been visible, as they so often are at Mom's place. 

I watched a video years ago done by National Geographic that talked about creativity.  It used photography as a learning tool.  One key lesson I learned from that video was to always "turn around"...meaning you never know what's behind you, what's above or below you. 

Change how you look at things.  Change how you see things. 

Only when you do can you be sure to see what you're meant to see, it's when you see what is most beautiful.

The video showed how much more beautiful of images the photographer caught simply by turning around and shooting what was behind him...he saw things that he hadn't previously seen. 

This lesson has stayed with me in my photography, and I try to remember it in life as well....
probably more than ever before since losing Jacob.

And so here was the other end of the rainbow that I was so grateful to spot right before going in the house.  I called the boys out to see the last of the rainbow over Mom's pond.  Rainbows have always brought me such peace.  I know they are a symbol for baby loss moms, but they've so often spoken to me of hope.  It's like my own private smile from God.  That things will be okay.  I love when I get to see them.

On Tuesday the boys and I went for haircuts.  Because my mom can't leave my grandma unattended, they came too.  After haircuts we stopped off at the library to sign up the boys and I for their summer reading program.  Yup, I signed up too!  I only found out a few years ago that libraries often offer the reading program for adults too.  How cool is that!  Not like I should need any incentive to make time to read but it helps.  I've already read a book by one of my new favorite authors and it felt soooo good to take time to read!
Later that evening, I went out again to take pictures around the farm.  In honor of Flag Day, Mom put out all of her flags. I love taking pictures of flags in the sunlight.

 Another view of Grandpa's Wagon, this time with flags displayed in the flower box.

Mom had told me to check out Jacob's Garden so after admiring the flags in the setting sun, I walked around to the backyard to see Jacob's Garden, a small flowerbed where we started planting flowers for Jacob--first on his due date and then last year for his First Angelversary.  Mom said the lilies we planted last year at his due date where now blooming.  I am so thankful that Mom designated that small flower bed such a pretty space to remember our sweet Baby Jacob.  Last year I spent a lot of time weeding it and planting additional annuals around.



Jacob's Garden just looked so pretty this trip.  I love all of the lilies, Mom said the light pink ones were "lollipop lilies"...perfect for Baby Jacob. :)

I can't wait until we buy our own home. I plan to do the same thing at my house.  I eventually want to get a paver for Jacob, a small bench as well as angel statues and lots of pretty flowers.  I don't think I'll ever have enough flowers, there's always room for more flowers!

Wednesday was grocery day!!  This is a big deal for my grandma.  She and Mom can hit anywhere from 2-4 stores in one day AND stop off for a fast food dinner before calling it a day.  Right now they've got it down to just two stores.  They start at one grocery store, mom pulling the cart behind her with one hand while she pushes Grandma in her wheelchair with the other.

I checked Sammy into the kids play area.  He looks forward to this every trip.  We only started it about a year ago or so.  Benny is old enough now but I'm keeping him with me.  He's content to help me shop and that way he gets a say as to what ends up in my cart. :)  I know one of these days he'll start going into the play area as well.  And I'll be sad.  It will be the end of an era. No more babies to ride in my cart.  I remember all of the times I'd shop with Benny as a baby, toddler and older. I'd be chatting away to him.  I loved it.  It was our Mommy-Benny time.  Just the two of us as Sammy often shopped with Daddy at home, or then started going into the play area up here at Mom's.  I know it sounds silly, but it's one more thing that will soon change that I will miss.

I remember when I was pregnant with Jacob thinking about our grocery shopping arrangements.  Isn't that a silly thing to think about?  I wondered how Alex and I would do it.  Alex would have to take Sammy and Benny in his cart while I would Jacob in his baby seat in mine. I get all of the food, while Alex typically gets the heavy drinks and dog food.  I knew I'd chatter away with Jacob in my cart too.

As Benny and I passed by the baby section the other day at Giant Eagle, I found myself feeling those slight tugging memories of when I used to shop in that section actively...Mom would give me diaper or wipes coupons, I'd check out their baby toy section.  I tried not to think about what I used to as I passed that section.

We met up with Mom, Grandma and Mom's good friend Linda in the small cafe in the store.  A family tradition,  Mom and Grandma enjoy any samples they picked up, coffee and sometimes a small sandwich.

We then ferry over to a second grocery store for more deals and where Sammy again hits the play area and Benny looks forward to riding in the car cart--the little plastic car out in front of the cart.  Then we head to eat, typically either Burger King or Taco Bell.  And then home where Mom gets Grandma into the house and restroom before coming out to load her wagon cart full of groceries to take into the house.

As if Wednesday's shopping day wasn't enough, we went out Thursday to Goodwill, or "GW" as it's referred to in our family.  It was their 35% off day.  I love coming home and doing "show and tell" with Mom and Grandma.  Grandma is always so proud that she gets out of there with the lowest bill!  It's just a quirky little thing that we all enjoy, but again, I've found that so often that's where the most special memories are made. :)

That night we continued pushing hard on Mom's room.  She and I had started it earlier in the week and had been chipping away at it every day.  We were switching things from one shelf to another in order to make more  more room.  Mom and I laughed...alot.  It was the first time during my visit that we shared such a joyful time and that we laughed so freely and with such giddiness.  It could have been the late hour, or perhaps it was the stress of trying to get it done that night that made us like giggly school girls.  Something about seeing a cloud of dust land on Mom's head makes for good memories I guess. :)  Whatever it was, I'm grateful for it.  I have so many of those memories with my mom and I treasure them all. 

Friday was Polka Day!  Grandma was chomping at the bit to go as usual and we pulled up to the Slovene Club a bit after 2:00.  We buzzed to get into the members-only club basement and saw the tables full!  I always worry about where we will sit but we fit thankfully.  Grandma goes at the end nearest the band.  The two long tables are full of older people--mostly ladies but with a handful of gents here and there (aside from the band which is all men except for one woman).  Some of the polka guests play cards, others enjoy popcorn and singing along to the music.  Then there are the line dance ladies--they take such tiny and dainty steps as they dance carefully in front of the food table--no big hops or stretches here--all just slow, nice and easy steps to the various polkas and waltzes.  I wonder if that will be me some day? :)

At the end of the two-hours the band gets into their final medley and most everyone gets up to clap and sing along.  The boys love to do this, especially the "bells" sections of each song.  And who could forget, "E-I-E-I-O" or "O-H-I-O"?  Both boys have been coming to Polka Fridays since they were babies.  We'd bring them in their car seats when they were tiny.  Jacob would have joined the fun too...I like to imagine him there now, I'm sure he'd bounce along to the music just like Sammy and Benny did.

 Lest anyone think my boys are totally in to polkas and that they don't do anything else... :)  Nope, they are still boys who take a bag full of toys, dump them all over the table and have action scenes amidst the bells (see green in the picture) and popcorn. :)  Most of the older people have never seen such characters--aliens from Ben 10, Batman guys, you name it.  That's my Great Aunt and Uncle behind Sammy.

The "Slovene Circle" -- there were three birthdays to celebrate today.  Everyone joins hands and polkas in a circle while the birthday people get to dance with everyone in the center. 
Benny jumped up with my Mom (in the red next to Benny).

Sammy asked Joanie to dance, a sweet lady who misses her grandchildren and enjoys seeing the boys.  This is Sammy's second time to ask her to polka.  He kept up perfectly!

 The final medley!  Everyone jumps up to clap, shake bells, sing, etc. 

The boys have enjoyed this part of polkas since they were old enough to stand up!

 Part of the band

 More of the band...my step-dad's sweet uncle is in the back playing the bass

 Final medley...O-H-I-O!  I think this is the "H" that Sammy is doing!

My Grandma getting a hug, she always gets emotional :)

We finished out our first week at Mom's with a trip to the cemetery right down the road.  It's a national cemetery and my Grandpa and two of my Grandma's brothers are buried there.  It was quiet that day.  Flags still lined the entry drive leftover from Flag day but only a few flowers had been placed for Father's Day.  Grandma got teary-eyed as she held the flowers Mom had picked for her to place on Grandpa's grave.

Seeing Grandma crying made me weepy too...it doesn't take much.  I hugged her, joked about how my mom was digging out old flower vases from the trash so they could put Grandpa's into something more sturdy and watched as my boys walked the many rows of stones.  Sammy informed us that there were 1105 stones (he saw the numbers on each).  I thought about so many of the men who were buried there who served in the different wars like my Grandpa and Great Uncles.  I blew a kiss to Grandpa before we left.  He is the same Grandpa that Mom and I said would have held Jacob on the day he died--right on Grandpa and Mom's Birthday.  I'm sure they are having such a ball up in Heaven.  He was the sweetest man.

 I miss you Grandpa, I wish you could have gotten to know my wonderful boys!
My aunt leaves seashells for each person in their family, including Grandma, Grandpa and all 8 kids. 

Our family has always loved the beach.

 Mom arranges Grandpa's fresh flowers.

 I love when I get to go to the cemetery, I feel closer to my grandpa there.  I want to tell my boys more about him now that they are a little older.  My aunt made the sign for Father's Day.

After seeing the seashells, Benny decided to add something for Grandpa's stone--little pieces of grass. :)

Later that night I felt a little melancholy...I wish we had a specific place to go to remember Jacob. I know that's a common feeling amongst baby loss moms.  Jacob was cremated and while we could probably some day inter his remains somewhere, I think I'll be happy enough to just create my own memorial garden for him with a paver, little seat, etc.  That's definitely something I look forward to when we move.

So that's a peek inside one of my trips home...just up to a small farm in the country.  It's where I look forward to life slowing down even  for just a bit amidst Mom's activities.  It's where I look forward to my walks around her property visiting the animals, photographing the flowers, remembering the past and all who had walked the same paths through the years.  It's where I treasure every giggle that my boys and Mom share, every chuckle that Mom and I share when no one else is around.  It's where I see the past connecting with the present all around me and I am so grateful that our family gets to experience so much love here.

We have one more busy week here at Mom's and with lots more memories to come I'm sure.

I hope you are enjoying your summer so far my friends!  I also hope you enjoyed that one simple lesson that I shared from the video I watched years ago.  Always look behind you, above you, below you...you never know what you might see...like the rainbow I spotted at the last minute.  And especially if you find yourself facing difficult times, remember to change how you view the situation, and may you then find that rainbow too.  I find that I look for rainbows now wherever I can.  I'm grateful that in so many ways Mom's home feels so much like one big rainbow to me. :)

I'll be back with more about my trip home...

Kim :)