Thursday, June 30, 2011

The Otherside

I was speaking to one of the regular guests at the bar I manage tonight. He also happens to be one of the deepest most spiritual people I have ever spoken with. When I was pregnant we had a very long conversation about children and their ability to touch the "other side" spiritually speaking. We talked about dreams and their impact on us. That was the last time I saw him prior to our meeting tonight.

No one had told him about Leo's death and he smiled when he saw me and asked how I was. I felt close enough to him to be able to say that my son had died. He became very apologetic, as they always do, and he asked how I was on a spiritual level with it. I told him about the rainbows that I saw the two days prior to finding out about his death. How there was a double rainbow one day and a single one the next and when I gave birth, they told me that he had probably started to fade on the day of the first rainbow and had passed the day of the second. I told him that I believed Leo was telling me he loved me and goodbye. He agreed whole heartedly and asked me if I had experienced any dreams. I told him about the dream that had really moved me.

The dream was a couple days after I came home from the hospital, and I was on the edge of just giving up. I couldn't stop crying long enough to eat and I was literally drowning in my grief. I didn't shower or change my clothes or brush my hair or even drink water. I became so dehydrated my lips would bleed and I wanted to fade away. Most nights I couldn't sleep at all and would just sit up and cry. One night I fell into a deep sleep and had the most vivid dream.

I dreamed I was sitting on a bench in a beautiful park during the fall. I know it was fall because all the leaves were yellow. I was crying uncontrollably. I looked up and there was a little boy about 3 standing at my knees. He was looking at me intently and he touched my knee with his little hand. He asked me "Why are you so sad? Why do you cry all the time?" I looked him in the eyes and instantly knew he was Leo. I responded, "I am sad because you left me! I am sad because you are gone!" He kept his hand on my knee and said, "Mommy, please don't be sad. This is not the end. There will be another chance. There will be another baby. This is not the end." I don't remember anything else about the dream. In fact the rest of the night was a dreamless sleep. I awoke to the sun shining in through my blinds, reflecting off of the lake outside, creating the coolest moving pattern on the ceiling, and I lay there thinking about the meeting in my dream. I realized that there was no reason to grieve so hard that I couldn't take care of myself and my living son. I saw Leo's little face in my mind, the face I never thought I'd get to see as a little boy, and I heard him repeating what he had said in the dream. I have not been that dysfunctional since that moment. I got up and got in the shower and brushed my hair. I made myself a bowl of cereal and started my day like I had done in the past. The sun had never shined so bright.

I told the gentleman at the bar exactly the story I just told here and his jaw dropped. He grabbed my hand and asked me if I believed in reincarnation. He said whether I did or not, that my son would come back to me. He said he and his ex wife had gotten pregnant and it was a daughter. The baby passed away before her birth as well. He said that after his wife and his divorce that he had a dream of the same nature as mine. His daughter came to him in a dream and told him it was ok and they would meet again, but she was never meant to be "their" baby (referring to his ex wife) but she was meant to be his daughter with someone else. He said after that dream he felt a peace with her passing similar to mine. He looked at me and said, "You are one of the most fortunate of souls Adrienne. You will get to meet him again. He will come back to you and this time you will be able to carry him." He reached out for my hand and said,"not many people get such reassurance in life of anything. You have truly been blessed beyond belief. He must really love you to reach you from the other side."

I hope he is right. I hope I get to remeet Leo one day. I would feel so honored to be able to carry his precious soul more than once in my womb. I suppose anything is possible. Perhaps this time was his test run.

It's not that I no longer get sad. It's not as if I have forgotten my son. It's definitely not that I have stopped crying.
  
It's that I have found the will to live again. To press on through my loss and grow from it. To wait for the day I get to see my Leo again.




Tuesday, June 28, 2011

He painted hope

Last night was my first night back at work. I worked hard to balance my emotions the entire shift. I did not cry not once. I spoke about you and honored your existence. I was so proud of myself. 

On my long ride home, very late in the night (or early in the morning) I found myself choking on a sudden wave of grief. It took my breath away and I had to concentrate really hard in order to regain my composure and not wreck my car. I realized that for a second I had waited for you to kick me in my belly. The last time I remembered driving home from work I felt you kick. I think when it hit me that it was all in my mind and my subconscious had forgotten the cruel truth, that was when the grief train hit full force. It was so intense that I couldn't even produce tears. Once it passed over, I still remained uneasy. 

I arrived home all in one piece and sat down at the computer to check on my new baby loss Facebook page. I surely couldn't sleep after all of the drama and emotions of the night. I surfed about the internet for about an hour, printed off some coupons, and turned off the computer. I turned off the lamp and got up to go to bed. 

I noticed that there was light coming in from behind the blinds and got curious. I thought about how I have waited for you to paint me a sunset every night and have been disappointed repeatedly when there wasn't one. I thought that maybe you wanted to paint me a sunrise instead. I peaked out of the window. 

What I saw wasn't very impressive. Yet. I saw the potential, and the sky called out for me. I got my camera and ran out my door and down the steps to the lake shore below. The temperature was perfect. The breeze was gentle. All of nature was waking up and making soothing sounds. I stared at the sky and I waited. 
What transpired over the next hour of my life will forever be imprinted in my mind. The sky evolved from one beauty to the next and I drank it all in. It evoked tears at some points because I knew it was a gift for me. It was you telling me that there was hope in a new day. Every morning is a new chance to live. 

You painted hope across the sky for me. 

As I stood there, wide eyed and in awe of the beauty before me, I whispered to the heavens, "I see you, my love. And I miss you too".








Monday, June 27, 2011

The visit

Today I had a rough moment. I took your brother to a birthday party and didn't think twice that there would be "obstacles" to account for there. I had even explained my situation to the parents of the child and let them know that I wanted some sort of warning if there was to be any "surprises". I was assured that things would be kosher and extremely low key. Well...I arrived early and already there were about 15 people there not including the children. One woman had a beautiful 2 week old baby. One was visibly pregnant. It felt like an emotional ambush. I arrived with my guard down and got sucker punched in the ovaries.

As the party progressed, so did the fertility. Two more visibly pregnant women showed up and one was talking about just finding out she was expecting. I had retreated to a corner of the back yard where nobody could see me cry. Luckily your brother was very busy doing 6 year old birthday party things and didn't need me. I shed some tears onto my cheese pizza and endured some weird looks from people that didn't know what was wrong and some uncomfortable glances from people that had heard. I felt like I wanted to fade away. I wanted to leave, but your brother was having a blast. So I persevered.

At one point I saw something out of the corner of my eye, and turned to see what created the mystery movement. It was a little white butterfly. It looked like a tiny angel. It stayed there with me for awhile. In fact it remained nearby and I watched it flit about until I realized that the anxious feelings had left.

Was it you my love? Did you see mommy's pain and come to soothe it? I believe it was you. Thank you for bringing me the strength necessary to live through today.

A butterfly came floating by and I thought I knew his face.

He landed on my shoulder and spread his wings of lace.

I looked and saw him smiling as he winked and flew away.

I'm sure I heard him whisper, "we will meet again one day".

Author Unknown

Friday, June 24, 2011

dimensional planes of existence

I'm actually excited tonight. Why? Because you will have your own beautiful memorial on my new favorite website. A wonderful lady in Australia does these beautiful pictures where she writes lost baby names in the sand on the most beautiful beach I have ever seen. I hope to see the memorial tomorrow morning when I wake up. That would be most special.

What an alternate universe I have come to reside in. I would have been starting my maternity leave this upcoming week. Instead I am returning to work from my grief leave. I should be adjusting to life with you, but here I sit adjusting to a life without you. I should be celebrating your impending birth, but in your absence, I "celebrate" your memorial picture being uploaded on a dead baby website. I'm so confused. I wish I could wake up from this horrible dream. This nightmare in alternate dead baby land. I hate it here by the way.

I keep seeing pregnant ladies and wishing it could be me again. I hope that experience is in the cards for me again. I keep seeing little babies and wishing I had you. It's not the babies that hurt, but the watching the mothers mother them. Seeing them soothe the cries, and snuggle the sweet smelling bodies. I yearn for such things. I wish it could be with you, but now that you are eternally gone, I wish it could be with another baby with your daddy's DNA mixed with mine. Perhaps they would have a glimmer of you in their eyes. I read one baby loss mom comment about seeing her lost son as the sparkle in her rainbow babies eyes. How beautiful to think such things would be possible.

I don't know why I'm obsessing so hard about this rainbow baby thing. Perhaps it's because in the alternate universe, you are being born to me healthy and gorgeous and the me that's stuck here is jealous of that life. Oh to find a portal and end up on that plane of existence. What I would give up to trade with her right now.

Perhaps later on I will find that this plane is better, but for now I wish I could be there, getting ready for your arrival.

Tuesday, June 21, 2011

Your Space

Today I just miss him

Hello my love. Oh how I miss you. My emotions change so often I never know what to expect. The only emotion that is constant is sadness. Sometimes it's a sadness that brings me to tears, other times a sadness that steals my breath away and leaves me numb.

I was able to openly talk about you to your daddy tonight. I didn't cry at all. I made you something wonderful for your little space! I went to your daddy's auto body shop and looked down and saw a piece of metal on the ground that resembled a dragonfly wing. I had a great idea! I could bring a little piece of the shop to you! I always knew that you would have enjoyed being there and you never got the chance. Little boys just have this certain admiration for all things tool and car. I looked around and as if it was meant to be, I found all the pieces to make you a dragonfly! It turned out really neat. I put it right by your ashes.

Your brother talks about you all the time. He really misses you even though to him you were only ever an idea. He understands how your absence affects me and has been a great distraction from my grief.

I'm getting really scared of going back to work next week. I don't know why but it is creating all kinds of anxiety for me. I hope I can get through it. I think I'm worked up because the last time I walked through those doors, you were with me. Now I'll be going alone. No baby kicks or wiggles to make me smile throughout the day. Somehow I always knew that my pregnancy with you would be cut short. I made sure to revel in the movements and beautiful feelings extra, just in case I would never feel them again. I have already forgotten the feelings and it kills me. You can't remember pain and I suppose you can't remember some beauty either.

I just miss you Leo. Like crazy. Everything I do, you are on my mind. Every moment of every day, that is when I find you. In the trees, the dragonflies that flit around the pool (I imagine you wanting to go swimming with your brother and me), the feather that floats by on our walks. I find you in the beauty of the mid day rains, and the phenomenal sunsets. Don't stop sending me your love. I will keep looking for it.

Friday, June 17, 2011

The lady in the mirror

I used to have joy in my life. I used to be a pretty fun person to be around. My manic moments were uncontrollable fun. I used to like who I was, for the most part.

Now I find that even when I am not sad, I'm not truly happy either. There is always a sadness in the back of my mind and a tear waiting to be let out. It's like sometimes the sadness breaks down the door I try to hold it behind. Like any little thing will bring it to the surface. I feel more peace, but the same amount of sorrow. How do I balance it out?

I am happy that perhaps there is an answer to what happened to Leo, I am also devastated that it happened at all.

I thought today as I was walking through the mall and saw all the women with their perfect children and big round baby bumps, why was I chosen to be broken? Why couldn't I be born capable of bringing children to earth? I had my first son at 24 weeks due to preeclampsia. I mourned the pregnancy and his tiny suffering for months. He is fine now, but the journey was a rough one. I had Leo at 28 weeks, but he was already dead. I can't begin to describe the mourning I have this time. Now I mourn my ability to birth a healthy child.

I was looking in the mirror because I had an eyelash in my eye just a minute ago and as I stared into my own eye, I said out loud, "Why am I broken?" All the moments of sorrow that should have been joy associated with the birth of both of my children flashed before me and I found myself on the floor in the fetal position, drooling on myself while the tears flowed freely.

Fuck you lady in the mirror. You have caused so much pain and destruction to the things that you love. What the fuck is wrong with you?!

Angelite and bloodstone

  Today I was driving down the road on the way to visit my boyfriend at his work and I made a sudden detour. I saw a rock shop that I had frequented many times in the past. (I practice the use of stones to meditate but I haven't really associated myself with it since I lost Leo.)  I turned in very abruptly and parked the car. I had no idea what I was looking for in the store. I usually just go in and let the stones choose me if that doesn't sound too weird. I walked in and headed over to where the stones are on display. They are not labeled consistently so at times you may pick a stone and have no idea what it is named. I walked over and saw a beautiful blue stone and it made me think of Leo for some reason. I picked up one of them and it felt right in my hand. I saw one more that I had heard of but was unfamiliar with as far as its "abilities". It was a bloodstone. I picked it up and again, it felt like it had good energy that would assist me in my journey.
    I asked the lady that runs the shop what the blue stone was called and she told me it was called angelite. She told me that it is one of they key stones in communicating with our guardian angels. I shook my head yes because the words got caught in my throat. That is why it made me think of my angel. I left the store with my purchases.
   When I got home I got out "The Book Of Stones" by Robert Simmons and Naisha Ahsian to figure out why the bloodstone had called my name. I found the page and began to read. I am going to quote the book so you see why I again choked up. "Just as Bloodstone increases vitality, it also assists one in facing the realities of physical mortality and death." Whoa. I read further and this is also what it said, "As one would suspect from its name, Bloodstone is useful for all types of blood ailments." Whoa again. No wonder this stone called my name so hard. Perhaps it can help me in multiple aspects of my post Leo life.
   I know the whole stone thing may seem weird, but the stones have helped me through many hard times. I figure it can't hurt to use it now, in my hardest time.
   By the way, I have been researching the whole MTHFR thing extensively and I am feeling more and more positive about where I am right now. I have found a peace. A sad peace, but a peace nonetheless. Perhaps I can find even more peace in the stones. Good night.

Wednesday, June 15, 2011

MTHFR

My very first post in here was about getting my blood drawn for the metabolic panel to see why I have these clotting/ high blood pressure problems with my pregnancies. Well today the results were in. I got the call before I woke up and the Dr left a voicemail. She said she needed to go over the results with me and to call her back as soon as possible. I thought, "Oh shit. This is the moment I find out how to fix it next time. This is the moment that Leo shows that he didn't die in vain!" I tried to call her back 3 times and each time she was with a patient. I was a nervous wreck all day long.

She finally called me at the end of the day. My heart skipped a beat when I saw the number come up on the screen. I took a deep breath and answered the call. She asked how I had been and I told her fine but nervous about the results. She said, "Well, everything came back fine. You didn't have any of the serious disorders we thought you may have had." My heart dropped because in this instance, no news was bad news. If there was no problem, there was no treatment. She continued on with, "But you did test positive for the genetic mutation MTHFR." (It's kind of funny but my mind immediately thought "Motherfucker?") "It has nothing to do with why you lost your baby, but it is present and I thought you should know. I'm putting the results in your medical file." I didn't understand. How could I have a genetic mutation that affects my blood, but it have nothing to do with my blood clotting while I'm pregnant? I had to breathe because I realized I'd been holding my breath literally almost the whole conversation.

Deep breath in, deep breath out....

I didn't believe her response to the MTHFR. I decided to google it and see what came up. When I typed in the letters, a couple lines down said MTHFR and pregnancy. I clicked it and what came up brought some peace. Apparently there are plenty of women with this specific mutation. In a small percentage of them that inherit the gene from both parents, not only can they not effectively process folate, but it causes elevated homocysteine levels, which in turn can cause the blood to clot. There was a lot of medical jargon, but basically I understood that it could very well have caused the preeclampsia and the clots in the placenta. It is not recognized by the medical community as a whole, but some studies show that treatment with vitamin b6 and b12 can control the homocysteine and blood thinners as a precaution have also been used to result in successful pregnancies. This is great news people! Even if there is just a small percentage of success with this treatment it is better than no treatment at all.

I will be getting pregnant again in my future and it really helps to know that there is something that could potentially can help me. MTHFR, you may have stolen two pregnancies and one son from me, but I got ya now motherfucker.

The sun shone a little brighter this afternoon just knowing that Leo didn't lose his little life in vain. Now I just need to find a Dr that thinks it is a problem and not just a random mutation that has nothing to do with losing my son.

Leo, thank you for the chance to find out this valuable information. I love you buddy. I love you more than you'll ever get to find out.

Our last days together


This was taken two days before you passed. I went to pick up your big brother from grandma's house after work. Before I left her house, I had this crazy felling that I needed to get pictures of your brother with my belly. I ran out to my car and luckily still had my camera in there. I had her get about 10 pictures  of us together and I thought they turned out great! Little did I know that these would be the only pictures of you and your brother. There would be no need for the special picture club I had joined at Sears for free 8x10's for grandma. There would be no need for the matching little "tough guy" gorilla shirts your brother picked out for your first photo shoot together. 

So many lost opportunities. 

It makes me think about Your brother's and my favorite Beatles song. He knows all the words and I have  the lyrics tattooed on my left arm. Across the Universe. "Words are flowing out like endless rain into a paper cup. They slither while they pass, they slip away across the universe." I never knew how true those words could be until you slipped right through my heart and your spirit flew away across the heavens. I do disagree with one lyric in the song though. "Nothing's gonna change my world". You did my love. You changed my world forever.

Tuesday, June 14, 2011

My life

I woke up today with an irrepressible desire to look at your pictures.

I had put your memory box up high in the linen closet. Out of sight but always on my mind.

I haven't looked at it in over a month. It's been 7 weeks since you came and left, and I haven't been able to bring myself to open "the box". It scares me because it contains the proof that you are gone. The mothers of lost babies all know how fucked up it is that the only things left of their precious gifts are a few small items in a box.

I needed to see your face. I wanted to make sure the picture in my minds eye was accurate. I wanted to hold the little sea shell you held in your only photo shoot on earth. So I took down the box.

I carried into my room and placed it on the bed. I untied the ribbon as if I was once again untying my heart strings. I gently took out all the little items (the pregnancy test, the It's A Boy bracelet, the hat, the tiny gown, the blanket) until I reached the photo album. The green photo album that contained the only proof that you were here on earth. I held it in my hands for a minute, waiting for the courage to face the emotions I knew were inside of it. Finally I opened it.

I wept with all my being. You weren't just a dream. There you were. So handsome. So perfect. My little surprise gift.

The pictures in my minds eye were exactly right.

So traumatic. So tragic. This is my life.

I miss you Leo. With every ounce of my being.

Sally deserves Leo

I just had a crazy thought.

I remembered when I was a teenager and I met an older lady at our church. She was a sweet soul named Sally and she and her husband Jim were childless. She saw some of my art work and expressed to my mother and me that she wished she could learn to paint. I talked with my mom and we decided that one afternoon a week I could go to her house and teach her to paint.

I ended up getting close to her and we would chat while we painted. She told me about how she had always wanted children, but had never been blessed with one. She said she had found peace with it and was happy spending time with other people's children. I remember not understanding.

I found out about 6 months ago that she had recently passed away from breast cancer. It has been years since we spoke to one another. As I was just sitting here thinking about my son in heaven, she crossed my mind.

Do you think it's possible she could get to take care of my baby in heaven? Can I adopt him to her in the afterlife? If anyone gets to care for my lost son, I'd like it to be her. She deserves the chance, and I would be honored.

Monday, June 13, 2011

An eventful day indeed

First of all let me just say this has been the most ridiculous day. So many things have happened I don't know where to start. Maybe I should just go in chronological order. Yes that is how we shall approach it.

Woke up. Still the same life. Damn.

While rushing to get my living son ready for preschool, I had the today show on the tv. Wasn't paying any attention to it until I heard the most beautiful voice I've ever heard singing opera. I have always been a closet opera fan so I wanted to see who this angelic voice was coming from. I imagined a 30 something in the seconds it took me to turn the corner but what I saw blew my mind. It was a child! A beautiful little child. It was shocking and I started crying for some reason. I don't know if I was crying because she was so talented, or because I thought about if Leo would have had a talent of those proportions. When she finished her song, I had tears streaming down my face. I'm just a mess. We ended up late for preschool.

I dropped my son off at school and decided to venture into extreme couponing land. I have heard of such things as getting items for virtually free and i wanted to experience it. I set out on a mission and 3 hours later I had acquired over $130 worth of stuff for under $30. What a rush. I scored lots of stuff I needed and also managed to get a lovely wind chime for my Leo garden on my patio. For free! It was the first exhilaration I've felt in months. Leave it to free shit to make my day better.

So in the couple of hours left before I had to pick up my son, I wanted to get creative. I wanted to create something for Leo's space. I put the clay in my hand and let it happen. When I finished I realized it was a simple but complicated piece. Simple because it doesn't consist of much, but complicated because of the feelings it conveys. I'll post a picture of it after I paint it and I think you will understand better. The day was going great at this point.

I went to pick up my son and we headed home. I checked the mail before going inside. The mail fucked it all up. I received one bill, one Carter's baby layette catalog complete with 20% off coupon, one sample of face wash from target, a notice of a package at the office, and the dreaded "finish off our registry!" coupon. I thought I had cancelled this whole situation. I had called three times to make sure that the registry was cancelled and I was taken off any mailing lists so as to avoid THIS coupon. It was due to come one month before my due date. It was two days late. Fuck me. I hadn't thought about "how long" in weeks. I didn't want to know what should have been. So much for canceling the bullshit.

I decided to go to the pool (my constant activity) and swim some laps to ease the sadness the coupon brought into my life. On the way I stopped by the office to see what the package was.

Enfamil gift package.

Jesus! Does it ever end!?

So now I'm at the pool crying into my towel while my son splashes in the baby pool. I don't really care who sees either. When I finally look up, I see a fellow baby loss mom (who I told you about previously) walking towards me. She tells me that she is an acupuncturist and she wants to offer her services to me to help me heal. I accept the offer and we hugged while I bawled. She totally understood. It made everything feel less severe to know that I wasn't alone in these things and that I have gained a new family. A family of women who have felt the worst pain in life, and gone on to live again. That is the goal. To live again.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

Your place in my home

I found a place for you in my home yesterday. I had put your ashes on a shelf in the beautiful little heart shaped box we had engraved for you, and realized you needed a place all your own. A "space" since you will never get your own room. I went out and spent money I don't really have on these really colorful butterfly decals and a little plaque that says "Our Little Angel" and is all blue. I already have a perfect little sleeping cherub statue and I created a little space just for you. It's perfect. I think I will do some sculpting soon and create you something else to sit over there. I feel better just knowing I have designated a spot for you. No matter where I move, you will always get your own space. I love you. I miss you. Every second of every day. That is all.

Saturday, June 11, 2011

When did it switch

I know I was just here, but in the hour since I last posted I have done nothing but look at pictures of other people's dead babies. I have read their stories and cried for their losses. I have marveled over how beautiful the dead babies were. I have joined this alternate universe of dead baby land. Where you can look through all the defects and bruising and sometimes blood to see a beautiful shell of a being. Something that someone loved very much and lost. A turning point in a life. A connection to a stranger that you wish you could sever but can't. I forget that less than two months ago I was looking at pictures of living babies and forming fetuses and imagining all the possibilities that lie before me. Now all those things seem so far away. Like it was a lifetime ago that my time was spent thinking about life instead of death. I wish I didn't have to be in this awful club, but I'm glad that I have opened my eyes to a strange beauty I never would have recognized in the past.

My friends always said I was morbid. I collect bones and skulls and taxidermy and gargoyles and poisonous tarantulas and other dark things of that nature. Now I have the ashes of my dead son as well. Not how I imagined my future.

Missing pieces

I've got a couple of random things to ramble about today. I realized that this blog has quickly become my new best friend since amidst the grief and sadness that has become my life, none of my old friends want to talk. At least we have each other blog!

On that note, I will begin my day by telling you about my friend who has abandoned me and my efforts to salvage our friendship. We have been friends since the day we met 5 years ago. I was pregnant with my first son and she wanted to be pregnant too. We ended up working together for 3 years in a tight knit family owned restaurant and we shared everything. She was there for me whenever I needed to talk. She would listen as I talked about the abuse from my then boyfriend and she would try to protect me, although that was a moot point at the time. I love her. Anyways she called me a couple months before I found out I was pregnant and told me she had just found out she was finally having her second baby. I was happy for her and we talked about how now she would have 2 children, as she already had a daughter, and how that would change her life so much. Two months later, I took my pregnancy test and found out about my surprise baby. She was one of the first people I called to tell. I was scared and now we were in the same scary 2 child club. We got excited and were even closer from there on out. We were finally pregnant at the same time!

She called me the day I was at the dr. office minutes after I found out that my beautiful son, who was supposed to change my life, was never going to get the chance. I cried and told her that Leo was dead and how scared I was. She told me she would be there for me when ever I needed her and to keep her updated. I think at that point she thought the drs could be wrong.  Well I've needed her everyday since and she has not been there. You see she gave birth to her son a week before I gave birth to mine, but hers was alive and mine was dead. There are no parallels anymore. The thing that brought us closer together has also been the rift to tear us apart.

I texted her about a week after I lost him, to take her up on her offer of "being there". I waited 24 hours for a response and when there was none, I tried to call her. She didn't answer. I then text her that I was sorry my situation was so sad, but I just needed her. She finally responded and told me this

"I'm sorry, I really am. I'm just in a lot of pain, I'm overwhelmed with two kids and I'm tired."

My stomach turned when I received that text. How could she say those things!? In a lot of pain! I had a c section too bitch! Overwhelmed with two kids! Fuck you! I was supposed to be overwhelmed with two kids! Tired! I have never felt exhaustion like the "tired" that sweeps in and wipes out all the energy of happiness and replaces it with the weight of grief. I was appalled at her insensitivity, but still I forgave her.

Two days ago I was sitting in my car and I thought about her. I missed her and I even wished I could meet her new baby. As painful as it would be, I had really been looking forward to meeting him. He was Leo's first and only little friend on earth. I texted these feelings to her, and told her how much I missed her and wished things had been different and wished we could be 2 child moms together. She never responded.

I guess that in her lack of response, I got mine. She can't handle that I have a dead baby. She can't deal with the fact that the friend lives we imagined and talked about so many times, will not be coming to pass. She is gone. It hurts.

Que sera...

Secondly, I'd like to talk about my compulsive spending problem and how it has evolved throughout my ordeal. You see, I have a very addictive personality, but I no longer fuck with any of my old vices. I fuck with shopping. It is my drug of choice. When I was a lush, I used to shop for awesome liquors, drinking paraphernalia, new expensive beers from all over the world, cigarettes and lighters and ashtrays. When I gave up drinking and took up working out, I redirected my buying to insane amounts of running shoes, walking shoes, workout tanks, sports bras, water bottles, workout pants, weights, you name it. When I lost 60 pounds, I again switched it up and started buying loads of sexy underwear, sexy outerwear, sexy heels, skimpy dresses. When I found out I was pregnant, I stopped spending for a few weeks because I just didn't know the right direction to point my money. Then the morning came where I woke up and suddenly needed to spend like a fiend. I went to the stores and looked at the baby stuff. I successfully traded the sexy shit for baby shit. I started with diapers. I wanted a stockpile of diapers. I moved on to clothes, starting with unisex clothes and then once I found out he was a boy, the cutest boy clothes you have ever seen. I moved on to stuff. Bouncy seats, blankets, toys, bottles, bibs, socks, shoes, mittens, brushes, nail clippers, crib bumper sets, books, etc. I spent thousands of dollars in a matter of months.

When he died I told my mom to clean the stuff out of my house so I wouldn't have to deal with it when I came home. She called me and asked me what did I want her to do with the diapers. "You have an amazing amount of diapers here" she said. Yes, they were all sizes, from newborn to 3's and they would have lasted me for a long time. I told her to return them and she was able to get over $200 back in cash and the rest in gift cards. I'm using the gift cards for my older son's birthday because I know Leo would want his money to go to making his brother happy. The rest of the stuff I can't bring myself to get rid of. The thousands of dollars worth of clothes and stuff I spent hours picking out and painstakingly imagining his little body filling out. That was Leo's stuff! The only person who will get to wear it will be his little brother if he ever gets one. So that was the next direction of my crazy spending. And it was over too fast.

Now I'm confused as to what direction my retail therapy will end up going. I don't feel sexy anymore. I don't need any work out attire. I refuse to pick up drinking and smoking again because as I have previously mentioned, the absence of those things is Leo's forever gift to his mommy. There is no baby to buy for. My son needs nothing. My only recent purchases have been candles. Really good smelling candles. I have over 30 candles to choose from when I wake up in the morning. How many more do I need? Where will I redirect this time? How do you redirect anything when your internal compass is crushed?

There is one more thing. I went to the mall yesterday to try to figure out where my money wanted to go. On the journey I passed by those kiosks where they have all the name meaning calligraphy and gifts. I found myself looking for Leo's name frantically. I wanted to see who he should have been. I needed to hold a piece of paper with his name on it since I can't hold him. There it was, in between Leah and Kelsey. I picked it out and stared at it. I held it gingerly in my hands. The tears welled up as I read who he should have been.

LEO
Quick to give of himself to help a bigger cause.
Selfless.
Loving and Unique in every way.

It was perfect. I did not buy it. I didn't need to. I already knew he was those things.

I miss you every day my love. Not a moment goes by that I do not wish we could have spent more time together. I can't wait for the day I can hold you. Kisses and hugs sweet baby boy.

Friday, June 10, 2011

The red dress

When I first found out I was pregnant I was too scared to run and check out the maternity section at Target. However, a couple months in, I was all about a new wardrobe for my new body for I am a serial shopper. I remember one of the first trips to check out the clothes, before it was actually necessary for me to wear them, I saw this red dress. It was maternity, yes, but it was sexy. It was made of a soft cotton stretch material and draped at the neckline and fit me perfectly. I loved the dress. I saw the price tag of $30 though and had to think about it. I wouldn't have a lot of places or opportunities to wear it, so I put it back on the rack. I told myself come June it will go on clearance and then you can afford it.

Well today I was perusing the clearance racks at Target (my second home) and there it was. Staring at me from amidst the other shirts and pants and skirts that failed to sell, the red dress I had wanted so badly. It screamed at me. I couldn't help but notice it, for you see, I already told you, I loved this dress. I think I have been subconsciously scanning for it since I first saw it back in February. I picked it up and felt how soft it was and checked the price tag and at $13.49 it was totally in my price range now. In my price range but out of my lifestyle range. It was a little too late to come home with me. 6 weeks to be exact. I held it up let myself grieve lost opportunities and shed a tear. I carefully placed it back on the rack and hung my head and walked away from the clothing section.

There will be a better dress next time.

At least that is how I'm moving on.

Undesired dreams

I had to wake myself up this morning from a terrible dream. I dreamt that I was back at work already and there was a couple of people who were plotting to kill me because my body killed my son. They were chasing after me and the owner and his wife, who just had their baby a couple of weeks ago, kept pushing their newborn son in my face and saying, "we really wanted him so God let us keep him." I couldn't make myself cry in my dream but I remember feeling pain in my arms. Pain because they were empty. Because I didn't have my son to hold and snuggle and care for. I woke up and my arms actually ached. I went into my son's room and he had just woke up as well. I reached out for him and he let me hold him for a minute. (he is 5 and usually wriggles away and says "No Huggies!") I know I'm blessed to have him here with me but my heart still aches for Leo. Obviously my subconscious feels guilty. I hope I don't have any more dreams like that one. I hope God gives me a baby on earth one day so I can hold him or her.

It's like when I found out I was pregnant with a second child, I was afraid that I wouldn't have enough love for two children. As Leo grew though, so did my love, and now I have this over abundance of love with no outlet. I'm trying to grow from this. I really am. But I just can't fight the feelings that keep sneaking up on me. Especially in dream land. Come on subconscious. Give me a break.

Thursday, June 9, 2011

By chance

It was by chance that you came to me.

I was thinking today while I was reading a fellow baby loss mother's blog and she was talking about God's plan. I thought about how I questioned you but accepted you as his plan for my life.

I thought about how I had talked to the doctors about getting my tubes tied after you came. I signed the papers and it was scheduled for the same time as the c section. I was taking chance into my own hands and you were going to be my last child.

I thought about the frantic feelings when you had to be taken out of me sleeping. How I completely forgot about my plans to stop having babies. The doctors didn't even ask about the procedure.

I think about the possibility that I will get pregnant again. I think about how, because of you I will know better how to take care of myself and the precautions to help my blood not clot and hurt the next baby. I think about the possible next baby and that I would never have met them if you hadn't passed away.

I guess I'm trying to see the positive light and maintain my hope for the future. I suppose I want to find a purpose for your death.

Either way, when reading a post about God's plan, I realized that perhaps this was all mapped out. You had to leave so your future baby brother or sister could have a better chance at survival. And so they could even have a chance at conception.

Crazy right? It blew my mind when I realized that the finality of the tubal ligation was no longer my choice. It was by chance that I am still able to make babies, and I thank you buddy. Your hopeful future sibling thanks you for the chance at life.

Nothing will ever replace you in my heart Leo. Please protect my rainbow baby's little soul until I can get them to earth.

This is my reality

You are gone. I walked through Target today and thought to myself, "he will never come back". Death is so final and I've never had to face it before. I keep having to tell myself that this is not a dream. This is my reality. For the rest of my life. I will miss you for the rest of my life.

Wednesday, June 8, 2011

What lies beneath the surface

    I had an interesting thing happen this afternoon. I was at the pool with a friend and she had fallen asleep while I swam my laps. I happened to venture over to a few of the moms and strike up a conversation. These are women that I see all the time around the community but have never taken the time to talk to, so I guess I was just feeling froggy. Anyways, we were discussing men and our children and I had a very strong urge to bring up my Leo. I have yet to bring him up to anyone except my mom and boyfriend so I was also feeling brave. It was so weird the urge to say something about him. It was almost as if I would explode if I didn't say his name and tell these women that I should have two sons here instead of just one. I blurted out that I was pregnant with a son and he should have been almost here but he was born dead in April. Just like that. Word for word. One of the ladies stopped in her tracks and started apologizing to me profusely. I explained to her that it was ok and she didn't need to say she was sorry anymore, I just wanted to bring him up so he could be remembered right then. She understood I guess but it was the other woman that surprised the shit out of me.
   Now it must be mentioned I have seen this lady a million times and always thought to myself that she seemed so happy and I looked at her with her singleton daughter and assumed that she wanted an only child. Today she blew my mind. She looked at me and said ,"you know, before I had my daughter that you see right here, I gave birth to a full term daughter that was born dead. They never figured out why it happened." It blew me away. I would never have thought that she was a fellow dead baby mother. Like I said before, she always seemed so happy go lucky and content with her daughter, I assumed that was how she wanted it. It wasn't. She talked to me right there in front of the other moms about the pain she felt and how sad it still made her sometimes. We had a moment where it was just the two of us amidst a crowd. Everyone else disappeared and we connected on a level neither of us wished we could.
     I realized how often I judge other people by the face they put on for the public. At no point would I have ever known she was filled with grief from a loss so intense. Who knows what people are hiding inside. You never know what kind of pain is lying just beneath the surface of a seemingly perfect exterior. Yet another very important lesson Leo is teaching me on this road through my new found life.

A few thoughts for the day

I have started running again. It was something I had to give up because of the c section and have missed it greatly. I feel so free when I run. I started crying today and instead of letting the grief take over, as I sometimes do, I put on my sneakers and my ipod and I ran. I ran until I thought I was going to collapse. I was too busy breathing rythmically to think about how sad it makes me that you aren't here. It was kinda nice. It was momentary relief.

As I ran past the apartment office, I saw a lost dog poster. I stopped and read it over. He was a black lab, loved to play fetch, loved to wrestle with his owner Sophie. He had been lost for over a week. His name was Hercules. The grainy picture on the flier showed him with his big ole doggy grin. I couldn't help but think that they will never see Hercules again. I also thought to myself, how sad for them. Then I realized that losing that dog was no where near the cataclysmic loss of losing my soul when my baby died. How did I maintain the emotional capacity to feel sadness for something as mundane to me as a stranger losing a fucking dog? I hate dogs. I marveled a moment over the possibility that I may one day heal from my loss. I guess I under estimate the healing capabilities of the human mind and soul.

And then I thought about my past. I have been through some of the most horrible moments of abuse and neglect and poverty and hate and, well you name it. I somehow found a way to bounce back. Whether it is my remarkable talent at forgetting or rerouting memories into dreams and making them as though they never happened in reality, or just my resiliency, I have overcome time and time again. Leo would not want to be the one thing that brought me down. I need to view his life and death as a chance at becoming a better person. Maybe it's a good sign that I felt so deeply for that stupid dog and his family. Maybe I can make a change in myself for the better.

Also I thought the other day about how long it had been since I had a cigarette. I haven't had a cig since December. That is 6 months smoke free! I have Leo to thank for that. I also haven't had a drink since October before I found out I was pregnant. I was a recovering lush and had fallen off the wagon a bit right before I got that positive on the test. I know that if I hadn't gotten pregnant I would have ended up in a world of trouble with that shit. I have Leo to thank for saving me from myself. I will never let that go. I will never touch either of those things again because the absence of those vices is the gift that Leo has given me. A healthier lifestyle is his eternal memory. Thank you baby boy. You have given me things I never would have achieved on my own for me and I promise I will continue to improve myself in your honor. When the world forgets about you, I will be your memory.

Tuesday, June 7, 2011

Shed my skin

I just finished watching my Mexican fireleg tarantula shed her skin. It was quite amazing to see it in progress as I usually just catch the aftermath. The skin tossed in the corner of the tank and the much bigger spider in the other corner. I walked in on her shedding process as soon as she had lay on her back and started wriggling out. It was incredible to see. I left for about 2 hours and when I came back I got to see her finish the process. I must admit I was strangely jealous of her for her ability to leave her old self behind so easily. She literally out grew who she was and took that body off to reveal a new better, brighter, bigger, more bad ass self. Awesome. If only we as humans could just shed our skin when we needed a new life.

The last bruises

I looked down at my arm this morning and noticed that where they took all the blood yesterday I have a horrific bruise. My arm literally aches inside. I then realized that it is the very last physical evidence that anything happened. After the bruise disappears, there will be nothing left but a scar hiding under my clothes. I don't know how I feel about that. Part of me wants the bruise to stay, and part of me wants to forget it all. I love you Leo.

And then there was you

I woke up today thinking about how I felt when I found out you were on your way. I never thought I'd have another child after the crazy premature birth of your older brother. Having a baby at 24 weeks due to severe preeclampsia is not easy especially at 22 years old. I was so scared of being pregnant. I was scared I wouldn't have enough love for two children. I was scared I may lose you to an early birth. I asked God to give me answers as to what to do and I clearly heard him say,"I will make it right". I let go and let God. I remember knowing about you growing in there and starting to get used to the idea of you joining my world. I loved you. I saw you for the first time on the ultrasound and there you were jumping around like a little jellybean with a skeletor face. I loved you. I felt you for the first time flutter around on Feb 8th and it was so amazing to think that it was my future touching me from the inside. I loved you then too. We went for the 20 week scan to find out if you were to be my son or daughter (I secretly wanted a daughter, but somehow knew in my heart you were a boy). As soon as the ultrasound wand touched my belly, you popped up on the screen and I saw it. So did everyone else and it was an immediate announcement that you were a brother for my son. Oh how I loved your open attitude. I saw that day that not only were you a boy, but you were a twin of your daddy. You had his lips and his nose and his profile and his ears, well his everything. I obsessed over this for weeks. I would look at your ultrasound picture and imagine you as a 2 year old, 4 year old, 16 year old. I couldn't wait to get you here and snuggle with you and raise a tiny man that looked just like the one I was in love with.
   I remember getting past 24 weeks with no signs of preeclampsia in sight. I felt like I had a new found energy! I just knew you were going to go full term. At 26 weeks I got really nervous so I went to the doctor for a non stress test. there was a point were you disappeared from the radar and so the doctor sent me to the hospital to be checked further. I was so scared you were trying to come early. (Looking back I would give anything for you to have been born then as you would have had a fighting chance at survival.) When they came and told me to go home everything looked fine, I rejoiced! I walked outside in the sun and felt like this was a new lease on life! I went shopping and got another maternity top to celebrate many more months of getting big. Little did I know in two weeks my world would crash and burn.
   I came home from work early on a Sunday night, April 24th and started setting up your beautiful car seat. i remember feeling you move around like crazy. I talked to you about all the great stuff I had here waiting for you. I rubbed my belly and relished in your presence. Your daddy came over and you kicked him all night into the next morning. I remember waking up and you were still going crazy in there. In retrospect I wonder if you were struggling at that point. (I can't really deal with thinking you struggled at all so I always convince myself that you went peacefully in your sleep.) I worked all day that day. I felt you a little but it wasn't unusual for you to be still while I worked. I thought you must be tired from all the action the day before. I came home and slept. The next day was about the same except I don't remember feeling you move at all. I woke up on that Wednesday, April 27th, and knew I had to get you to the doctor. I remember the drive there. I called daddy and told him I was scared about you. He said I was probably overreacting and would just get some peace of mind at the doctor. I agreed. At the doctor my blood pressure had sky rocketed. It was 172/100. That is scary high. I knew something was incredibly wrong then. I was 28 weeks 1 day. The exact week I had told myself I would get to and be ok. You had surprised me with your presence and now I knew in my heart you were gone. The ultrasound this time confirmed my worst fears. Your little busy body was perfectly still and the heart beat I had loved to hear was not present. You were gone. The ultrasound tech left the room to get the doctor. She confirmed your passing. I can't really remember the next few hours. I paced and cried and somehow ended up at the hospital. Because my blood pressure was so high they needed to get you out.
     I could tell that your beautiful soul no longer dwelled in my belly. All I could feel was your absence. I opted for a repeat c section because I wanted your body out of me. I couldn't come to terms with the fact that I had an empty shell floating around in my uterus in place of my active baby boy. They told me I wouldn't remember meeting you. They were giving me a drug to cause amnesia. I said fuck that. I combatted that medication and I remember everything. You definitely looked just like your daddy. You were perfect. I kissed you on the nose like I imagined doing so many times. I traced your features with my fingers. I held your tiny fragile hand in between my pointer and my thumb. You were cold. It was nothing like i had imagined all those days and nights after finding out you were coming. I have been lost since that day. That night when they handed me my surprise baby, it sucked my soul out of me and vomited it on the floor. I will never be the same since you came and went. I will always wish for what can never be. My little Leo. My tiny angel. I thought I had everything figured out in my life.

And then there was you.

Monday, June 6, 2011

The Playground Posse

I went to the pool this afternoon. Thought I'd clear my head with some laps. When I walked in with my 5 year old son I heard all kinds of hellos coming from the kids in the pool. I realized that the moms of these children were also at the pool, and I realized that there were no hellos coming from them to me. I remembered when I found out I was pregnant and shared the info with all the other moms at the playground how quickly we became friends. They had so much to talk about with me and we shared stories. They even threw me a baby shower and on the invitations wrote that it was being put on by the "playground posse". I felt so fortunate to have such great friends! Now that Leo has passed away it's as though I have leprosy. All the hopes and dreams have been shattered by my inability to carry a baby. I feel like a failure and they must see me as such. They don't want to talk to me because they would have to deal with my grief. They would have to recognize that my world has been crushed, that all my dreams of him are dead. I might mention him. I might cry. God forbid. All I want is for them to recognize that he existed. To say his name now as they did when he was alive. I realize that babies shouldn't die. I realize how hard it is to deal with. I just wish they wouldn't avoid me. It hurts to have to swim away the loneliness that eats me from inside as well as out.

Blood work

I woke up today with a sense of accomplishment. I knew that today I would go to Labcorp and get my blood drawn for the metabolic panel that the doctor ordered since it was clots in the placenta that killed my precious son Leo. I thought I'd be happy because in the end there could be answers. They could figure out a way to stop it from happening if there is ever another chance. Instead I found myself crying off all the makeup I had just put on before I even got there. I pulled into the parking lot and dried my eyes and sucked it up and went inside. I had an appointment so you'd think I wouldn't need to sit for long, but alas. While I waited for my name to be called a young girl walked in with her infant son and i had to shield my eyes. I thought back to 2 months prior when I had last been to this lab. I was getting my glucose tolerance test done and I had fasted for that as well, but it was different now since it was just me that was hungry. No kicks from Leo. No rubbing the belly. God forbid I touch that big fat roll now. No baby to show but sure did get some fat out of the deal. Anyways, I started to cry again. Fuck me. Tears flowing, the lady next to me clears her throat. Yes bitch, I'm crying. They finally called my name and I finally took off my sunglasses. I bawled through all 15 vials of blood.