One Year Later

One year ago tonight, our nightmare began. One year ago tonight, I went into the hospital with my precious baby. One year ago tomorrow, I left without him.

They say that time heals, and it does. It does not take away the pain, but it makes it less intense. Some days I'm just fine and others, it rips my heart out to see a baby who is about the age Jesse should've been. Or to walk through a store and see something I just know I'd have bought for him. Some days I resent friends and family who have had healthy babies since we lost Jesse, or who are expecting them. What gets me most though is the people who say that we need to "get over it" or "move on." I KNOW that a lot of people have lost their babies too, but that doesn't mean that I don't have a need to remember him and have him remembered. A lot of people...A LOT of people...just don't get it.

I'm still not sure just how Sami understands this whole thing. Some days she says that her baby brother is in heaven. Then other days she asks when WILL her baby brother get here? This week she had some sippy cups that she brought back to our house from her grandparents' and she kept saying that the cups were her baby brother's. Over. And Over. And Over. Billy finally had to tell her to stop saying that because I couldn't take it any more.

I've come to the realization that maybe having a baby just isn't in the cards for us. We're not getting any younger. We have been trying for 5 months and no dice, and an illness has now left my body too weak to carry a child. So maybe it's just not meant to be.

Long time...

Wow, it's been a while since I've blogged. Last week we were watching Sami's soccer practice and it was such fun to watch her play! She had a huge grin on her face the whole time and it just made me feel good to see her having so much fun. As they practiced, ominous clouds threatened to open up at any time but they only got a few sprinkles, and then the skies opened up just as we were returning to the car. As we watched, a faint rainbow showed up over the field and continued to grow in brightness. By the time we were driving home, it was the brightest rainbow I think I've ever seen, and FULL...we could see it clearly from end to end, with a faint double rainbow slightly above it. I tried not to, but my mind led me to think that maybe this was a sign that maybe, just maybe, we'll finally have our rainbow baby! Anything feels possible.

Yes, I'm ready.

This week I went to visit a dear friend and her week-old baby. I was unsure of how I'd react to him but wanted to visit them anyway before school starts. It helped that she was so kind and asked me if I was okay seeing him before hand. Somehow what seems like the smallest gesture, just acknowledging that I may have conflicting feelings about it and asking if I was okay, made it all okay. More than okay! It was the best thing I could have done, I think. I held this tiny, tiny baby (I swear his head is hardly bigger than my fist) and I'm not sure how getting peed on can melt your heart, but that's exactly what happened when this little guy leaked all over me! (His mom was mortified, but it was all good.) If anything, I think that it solidified my feeling that yes, I really am ready. With all the emotions it will bring, I am ready to be pregnant again, to believe that we will have our little baby in our arms soon. And when it does happen for us, it will be all the more special, and I will embrace it, pee pees, spit ups and all!

A Miracle

Awhile back, I was listening to a talk show on the radio on the way home from work. It was one of those deals where they have people call in and share their personal problems and they have listeners give them advice. I don't remember the topic exactly but it revolved around pregnancy, and one of the DJs said something to the effect of, "Blah blah blah...and don't give me that crap about childbirth being such a miracle, it's not. Women do it every day. It's just science, blah blah blah." I so badly wanted to call in and tell him that it IS a miracle that people make it to full term and deliver healthy babies every day, because there are so many of us out there who do not. And I believe that. How miraculous the whole process is, from conception through all the growth and development to the ridiculous act of birthing a child, it is a miracle!

"Go forth..."

Sitting down to lunch together today, Sami quipped conversationally over hot dogs and black olives, "So, what DID the doctors say about...you know, the babies...not coming out?" How old is this kid anyway, because that did not sound like a 5 year old! I had not mentioned my surgery to Sami, though she knew I had to go to the doctor, so she probably just connected the dots that it was baby related. I don't want her to know if we're trying again or not so that there is no more roller coaster for this child until it seems imminent that there will actually BE a baby. I just said, "They don't know, babe" and she let it go.

The fact is, in my impatience, I emailed my surgeon the other day even though our follow up isn't until the 10th. I asked him if he was going to recommend anything else before we start to try again. His response was, "Go forth and procreate. There is no need to wait." (I'm not sure if he was going for the rhyme or not.) So. There it is. We have a green light.

Keepin' On

This is a hard time to be a part of this demographic. (Because usually it's a pretty easy road, right? Note sarcasm.) We are far enough out now that many of the people we're on this journey with are moving on, getting pregnant again. Don't get me wrong, I'm so happy for them and wish them nothing but the best. But of course there's that twinge of jealousy wishing that it was me. And hopefully it will be very soon!

Isn't it funny how I can be happy for the friends welcoming their rainbow babies and yet still so bitter toward others who are so blissfully ignorant? There is a commercial on now, I think it's for a phone, and the woman is telling her husband that she's pregnant. The last line is, "You're gonna be a daddy!" and every time I just want to scream, "DON'T COUNT ON THAT!"

A Rainbow

I've often wondered why a baby after a loss is called a Rainbow Baby. Well, it seemed somewhat obvious, but a friend shared this today.

It is understood that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of any storm. When a rainbow appears, it does not mean that the storm never happened or that we are not still dealing with its aftermath. It means that something beautiful & full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover, but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy & hope. Unknown

I'm feeling impatient for that rainbow in our lives.

Seven Months

Today marks seven months since Jesse died. Seven months. The better part of a year. Jesse should have been about two months old now.

From the Mouths of Babes

Today Sami and I were at the swimming pool, and she was delighted when another little girl showed up and wanted to play. The girls were playing on the pool steps and I heard the girl-Her name was Jasmine-ask Sami if she has a brother. Very matter-of-factly, Sami replied, "Oh, no. I don't have a brother here. I DO have a brother but he is in heaven. He is in heaven with God." Jasmine was a bit perplexed and kept asking over and over, "Are you SURE your brother died?" and then she yelled across the pool, "HEY MOM, HER BROTHER DIED!" The funny thing is, this whole conversation didn't bother me at all. Sami had said exactly what I have hoped she would say if anyone asked her about Jesse. She wasn't bothered by the little girl's questioning, and I know that Jasmine was just trying to wrap her brain around the idea that Sami's brother had died. Her mother, on the other hand, was very uncomfortable and finally told the girl to be quiet. I wasn't sure if I should explain to her or what so I just kept my mouth shut...but now I wonder what she thought.

The neighbors downstairs had their baby, a boy. I haven't seen him yet, or heard any crying. I want to take them the formula that came in the mail shortly after Jesse's due date and ask if they can use it, but I don't want to have to explain why. I don't think I want to explain. A little part of me wants them to know what we've been through. I guess it'll always be that way, wondering what others think if they do know, or how they would react if they did know.

Surgery

Well, today was the day. My surgery went fine, even easier than expected actually. That's the good news. The surgeon said the procedure was easier because the growths he saw in my uterine cavity seemed to be polyps, not the fibroids he thought they were. The whole procedure took only 30 minutes and we were on our way home 2 hours earlier than expected. The bad news is that polyps don't so much explain the losses we've had. I was pretty groggy when he told me this, but what he told Billy was that they'd just monitor me more closely if I get pregnant again.

Wait a minute...isn't that what they told me for the LAST pregnancy? And didn't they not want to see me until I started to miscarry? How will it be different this time? I know that I have to be proactive for myself and insist that they see me but I guess I don't know how to do that. My cousin suggested that I get all my medical history from the first loss up till now, and take it to a NEW OB and demand a consultation. I'll find out what they are willing to do to work with me before I even get pregnant. Might not be a bad idea.