*I haven't been able to put together the next part of "Our Story," so I decided to jump to a different time. I want to remember my whole pregnancy from the blissful beginning to the tragic end. For now I'll write about whatever time I'm able to until the story is complete.
Before I found out I was pregnant I had a second job. I was working at a grocery store from 6 to midnight about 4 nights a week for extra money. It was ok at first, but I began to get exhausted and just couldn’t do it anymore. I’m not proud of it, but when I decided to quit I just didn’t show up for my shift that night. I went home and was going to take a nap instead. Before I got settled at home, I decided to take a pregnancy test. I didn’t think I was pregnant at all, but I wanted to start taking my diet pills again and wanted to just make sure I wasn’t pregnant before I did. Just to be safe. It was the end of September, and we had gotten married a little over 3 months before in June and I stopped taking birth control at that time. My mom had a lot of trouble getting pregnant with me (I think it took her about 7 years) so I wanted to start trying early. I figured it might take me a while as well. Plus I had been on birth control since I was very young to help control cysts on my ovaries and I was afraid it would take a while to get out of my system.
So I took the pregnancy test as soon as I got home from my full time job at around 5:30 pm. It very immediately read positive. I was in disbelief. I wasn’t even taking the pregnancy test to see if I was pregnant, I was taking it to confirm that I was not pregnant. I didn’t even know what to do. I called my best friend, Shannon, immediately and told her that it was positive and asked her if she thought it could be true. She said if it was positive then it was most likely true. She mentioned how they recommend you take the test in the morning because the hormone levels tend to be stronger and that if I was taking it at 5:30 pm then it was probably accurate. Then I started to panic a little because I had been sick the whole week before and was taking cough & cold medication every day. I had also had some alcohol a few weeks before (after the hurricane when we didn’t have electricity for 13 days). She told me not to worry. We both couldn’t believe it. I had been very adamant when we were growing up that I never wanted to have kids. When I met my husband, Mike, he already had two kids and seeing him as a father really softened my heart and I changed my mind. I was excited about the prospect of having a baby with him one day.
I decided to wait and take another pregnancy test the next morning just to be sure and until then I wasn’t going to tell Mike. That night I joked with him and asked what he would say if I ended up being pregnant soon. He teased me and said, “I’d ask you who the father was because we don’t have sex enough for it to be mine.” He was joking of course. Well, he was joking about it not being his baby. He was serious about the sex part. I kind of felt the same way. I honestly didn’t think we’d been doing it enough for me to be pregnant either. I had been working two jobs for about a month and a half, so we barely saw each other. Plus we had just endured a serious hurricane which left us without electricity for almost two whole weeks. It was so miserable around here because in Texas the summer heat lasts most of the year, well into what should be the fall. During those weeks we only had sex one time and that was the night we were lucky enough to borrow a generator and an air conditioning unit from some friends who had gotten their electricity back. Prior to that I was so hot and miserable I didn’t even want him sleeping close to me.
The next morning before I left for work I took another pregnancy test. Positive. Wow. I still found it hard to believe, but I accepted that it was true. I decided I’d tell my husband that night. On my way home from work that evening I stopped and bought one more pregnancy test. This time I got the digital one. I needed to see it say the word “positive” to make sure I wasn’t misreading the other two tests. I took it when I got home and it didn’t take long and that little screen read “Positive.” When Mike got home I told him I had a surprise for him. I told him to sit down on the bed, close his eyes, and hold out his hands. Once I was sure his eyes were closed, I went and got the three pregnancy tests, put them all in his hands, and told him to open his eyes. I was so nervous. He looked at his hands. It took him a few seconds to figure out what he was looking at and for it to really register in his mind.
“You’re pregnant?” he said.
“I guess so. They’re all 3 positive” I replied.
“Yay!” he said very awkwardly.
I could tell he was in shock. I was so worried about how he would react. I knew he would be happy about it, but neither of us thought it would happen so fast. We hugged and kissed. He asked me if I was going to call Shannon and I told him I already had, yesterday. He should have known. I had also told Lacey, my other really close friend, so when he said he wanted to tell someone too I couldn’t say no. He decided to tell his friend Will.
It was surreal to think a life was already growing inside of me. I knew my mom would just die to know, but I wanted to make sure everything was ok before I broke the news to her. I made a doctors appointment to confirm my pregnancy for the next week and decided to tell my parents after that. I had already scheduled a trip to Arkansas to visit my best friend who had given birth to her first child two months earlier, so I spent the following Thursday evening through Sunday morning hanging out with her. That probably wasn’t the best time to visit because it made me so scared about what was in store for me. Endless crying, sleepless nights, struggling to breast feed, etc. It was overwhelming for me just as a spectator, and I couldn’t imagine how hard it was for her. Nevertheless, I was excited about my appointment.
Mike went with me to the appointment and I had my very first vaginal ultrasound. I definitely was not expecting that, but it wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be. At that time, our baby was just a little round yolk in my uterus but it was such an amazing moment. To hear a professional confirm that I was truly pregnant made it real. She printed out an ultrasound picture and it was so cool. The first picture of our very own baby. I was excited to go tell my parents the news. A couple days earlier my mom had called and told me she hoped I would be pregnant by Christmas. At the time, I already knew I was pregnant but it was still my secret so I told her to stop pressuring me and that it would happen in due time.
I decided to make four copies of the ultrasound picture. I put each picture in its own envelope and labeled them: Mom, Dad, Pim Pim (my grandma), and Poppy (my grandpa). We headed over to my parents house right away. We walked in and met them in the kitchen. I told them I had something for them and handed them each their envelope. They opened them and I could tell that my dad immediately knew what was going on. My mom looked confused, which is very much like my mom. Finally she said, “What is this?” and my dad told her “It’s an ultrasound.” A few more seconds and it hit her. “You’re pregnant?!?!?!” We said yes and before I knew it she had her arms wrapped around me and she was spinning me in circles as she squealed with joy. By the time she let go we were both crying. It was such a special moment for both of us. My dad doesn’t show much emotion (he doesn’t even make a sound when he laughs) but I could tell in his face that he was excited. He hugged me as my mom hugged Mike. They wanted to take us to dinner to celebrate, but we had to stop at my grandparent’s house and share the good news on our way.
Just like I did with my parents, I handed them each their envelope and had them open them at the same time. They both looked a little confused so I just blurted out, “I’m pregnant.” My grandma’s face lit up, “Are you really??” We all told her yes and she started to tear up. She gave me a hug and told me she was so excited. My grandpa hugged me and told me congratulations. Once the news was out I had to explain to them what they were looking at in the picture. Understandably, it was difficult to tell what was what because at the time the baby was just a little round sack. We stayed and visited for a few more minutes and then we left for dinner. It was such an exciting day!
Just a few days later my parents showed up at our house with a gift. My mom was so excited that she just couldn’t wait to start buying things for her first grandchild. The bag was full of blankets and hooded towels. They were all gender neutral, yellow and green with a frog theme. I have loved and collected frog stuff since I was in middle school, so it was all so perfect. It was so fun to open a gift full of baby items. I spent the better part of my young life insisting that I would never have kids, but being pregnant was so exciting and it felt so right.
Tuesday, September 1, 2009
Baby Jet
Tonight I am so so so very sad for Mirne & Craig. They have just suffered their third loss and my heart is broken for them. Life has never seemed more unfair. I don't even really know them, but I've been following their blog and hoping for the best for them & with them. I can't even imagine what they are going through. It felt like my life ended when Mackenzie's did. I can't even fathom what it would be like to suffer another loss with a second baby. My mind cannot even begin to entertain the thought of losing a third child. My thoughts and prayers are with Mirne and Craig tonight. I will never forget them or their three precious babies: Freyja, Kees, and Jet.
Saturday, August 29, 2009
The Secret Garden Meeting (August)
If you created a bedroom for your baby tell us what it was like?
Mackenzie's room was just beautiful! Everything she had was brand new (courtesy of her grandma & grandpa along with her great grandparents). She had a cherry wood crib with the matching dresser/changing table. She had a super comfortable rocking chair (more like a rocking recliner). Her bedding was ladybugs & paisley designs. She had the mobile, blanket, curtains, etc. to match her bedding. I decorated (all by myself) the most beautiful wooden letters that spelled out her name and were hanging above her crib. We painted the whole room two shades of pink. The top half lighter than the bottom half. It was gorgeous! She would have loved it.
Did you have it ready for them before they were born?
Oh yeah I had it ready for months before she was due. Pretty much as soon as we told my family we were pregnant my grandpa offered to buy her crib and we went to pick it out. That was the first thing we had. It was all setup for a while and then my mom decided to help my husband paint it. My dad installed chair rail on the walls around the whole room (if you don't know what that is...that's ok because I didn't know before they put it in either). I even had all her stuff washed in Dreft and put away. I was so ready.
If so how did you cope coming home to it without your baby?
Well, I was so protective of her room even before she was due that we pretty much always kept the door closed. I didn't want my stepchildren in there messing anything up. Plus for half of my pregnancy we had cats that we kept indoors and I didn't want them going in there at all. It was still hard coming home knowing it would always be waiting for her. I can barely go in there. Before I came home from the hospital my dad and husband came home ahead of me and took everything baby related out of the house and shoved it in her room and closed the door back. I've been in there maybe 5 times since we came home without her. It's hard. It smells so sweet in there. Not sweet like babies, but sweet because the smell reminds me of how excited I was to bring her home to this little room. It actually smells a little like paint and wood, but the smell has a lot of memories attached. We keep the door closed still. In the morning before I leave for work it's like the door to her room is glowing. Sun comes in heavy through her window and shines through the cracks around the door. That's hard sometimes.
Did you pack it all away?
No, absolutely not. Like I said earlier, we did take her stuff from everywhere else in the house and put it in her room, but nothing has been packed away. I'm pretty much refusing. I posted about this a while back, but my intention is to leave her room exactly the way it is until we are pregnant with another baby (God willing) and find out the sex. As I said before, if we are never able to have another baby then I will leave her room as is until we move out of this house. I'm actually (for a million different reasons) hoping our next baby will be a girl too so we don't have to repaint the room. I'll rearrange it and change the decor/theme and get the new baby new bedding, etc. but I would be able to leave the beautiful paint job.
What is your baby's room now?
It's still hers. It will always be hers. And it's a bitter sweet reminder.
If you are trying to conceive again, or are pregnant again how do you feel about setting up another room before your baby is born?
Well, as I said, I will redo the room if we're pregnant with another baby after we find out the sex but I already know it will be SO HARD. I don't even want to think about it.
Mackenzie's room was just beautiful! Everything she had was brand new (courtesy of her grandma & grandpa along with her great grandparents). She had a cherry wood crib with the matching dresser/changing table. She had a super comfortable rocking chair (more like a rocking recliner). Her bedding was ladybugs & paisley designs. She had the mobile, blanket, curtains, etc. to match her bedding. I decorated (all by myself) the most beautiful wooden letters that spelled out her name and were hanging above her crib. We painted the whole room two shades of pink. The top half lighter than the bottom half. It was gorgeous! She would have loved it.
*The pictures I have below are before the room was painted*
Did you have it ready for them before they were born?
Oh yeah I had it ready for months before she was due. Pretty much as soon as we told my family we were pregnant my grandpa offered to buy her crib and we went to pick it out. That was the first thing we had. It was all setup for a while and then my mom decided to help my husband paint it. My dad installed chair rail on the walls around the whole room (if you don't know what that is...that's ok because I didn't know before they put it in either). I even had all her stuff washed in Dreft and put away. I was so ready.
If so how did you cope coming home to it without your baby?
Well, I was so protective of her room even before she was due that we pretty much always kept the door closed. I didn't want my stepchildren in there messing anything up. Plus for half of my pregnancy we had cats that we kept indoors and I didn't want them going in there at all. It was still hard coming home knowing it would always be waiting for her. I can barely go in there. Before I came home from the hospital my dad and husband came home ahead of me and took everything baby related out of the house and shoved it in her room and closed the door back. I've been in there maybe 5 times since we came home without her. It's hard. It smells so sweet in there. Not sweet like babies, but sweet because the smell reminds me of how excited I was to bring her home to this little room. It actually smells a little like paint and wood, but the smell has a lot of memories attached. We keep the door closed still. In the morning before I leave for work it's like the door to her room is glowing. Sun comes in heavy through her window and shines through the cracks around the door. That's hard sometimes.
Did you pack it all away?
No, absolutely not. Like I said earlier, we did take her stuff from everywhere else in the house and put it in her room, but nothing has been packed away. I'm pretty much refusing. I posted about this a while back, but my intention is to leave her room exactly the way it is until we are pregnant with another baby (God willing) and find out the sex. As I said before, if we are never able to have another baby then I will leave her room as is until we move out of this house. I'm actually (for a million different reasons) hoping our next baby will be a girl too so we don't have to repaint the room. I'll rearrange it and change the decor/theme and get the new baby new bedding, etc. but I would be able to leave the beautiful paint job.
What is your baby's room now?
It's still hers. It will always be hers. And it's a bitter sweet reminder.
If you are trying to conceive again, or are pregnant again how do you feel about setting up another room before your baby is born?
Well, as I said, I will redo the room if we're pregnant with another baby after we find out the sex but I already know it will be SO HARD. I don't even want to think about it.
Sunday, August 23, 2009
Our Story (What I've Written So Far)
On Tuesday (June 16, 2009) I went to work excited because I had a doctor’s appointment at 1:30 pm with an ultrasound & a non-stress test (NST). More importantly, I was going to ask my doctor to induce me within the week because I was already 4 days past my due date and I was terribly uncomfortable (most likely due to the 75 pounds I’d gained during my pregnancy & the fact that my baby was already weighing 9 lbs). At work around 11 am I noticed that I hadn’t felt her move like I normally do, but I hadn’t eaten anything all day either so I decided to eat my breakfast tacos to wake her up. That didn’t really seem to work, so I went to the bathroom because she always kicked me when I was trying to pee. I still didn’t feel anything, so I sat there and poked and rubbed on my belly for a few minutes. Still nothing. I didn’t freak out or anything though because I had felt her move a couple times earlier in the day and the doctor told me just to make sure she moves 20 times a day. It was only noon, so I figured there were plenty more hours left in the day for her to reach 20. Pretty soon it was time for me to leave for my appointment and I told my boss & co-workers that I hoped I didn’t see them again for 8 weeks (since I was hoping the doc would agree to induce me).
On my way to the doctor’s office I rubbed and poked at my belly and half way there I felt a kick. That put my mind at ease. My husband, Mike, met me at the doctor’s office and we headed in for the ultrasound. The first thing the ultrasound technician did was check my fluid levels. My doctor had been keeping an eye on that because for a while there I had too much fluid. After she got the measurements she spent a long time going over and over my belly with the ultrasound wand. I was too afraid to ask what she was looking for. Then she told my husband to get up and stand by my side while she left the room for a minute. We were both confused. She told us she was having a hard time finding a heart beat and needed to get my doctor. She left us in that dark room for what seemed like an eternity (but was probably more like 10 minutes). I was starting to panic and I was getting angry that she just left us in that room alone after saying something as critical as “I’m having a hard time locating a heart beat.” Finally I sent Mike out to go find her and see what the hell was going on. It felt like another eternity while I was lying on that table waiting for Mike to come back. I put my hands in the goo on my belly and started pressing around, being very still, and praying to feel some movement. Nothing. Mike came back in and put his hands on my belly too. He asked me if I’d been feeling her move today and I told him I thought I felt her three times; Twice that morning at work, and once on the drive over to the doctor’s office. That seemed to put his mind at ease, but not mine. I was starting to doubt myself. Had I really felt her move at all today? Was it all in my head? The ultrasound tech came back in to let me know that the doctor was on his way. He was headed back to the office after performing a c-section over at the hospital. I was furious. I told her that was too long to have to wait. “Do you think she’s dead?” I asked her. She said she didn’t know and that I would just have to wait for the doctor and left the room again. It dawned on me that the doctor was probably the only one that was allowed to tell a patient that their baby had died. I don’t think it had dawned on Mike. He held my hand and told me everything was going to be ok. I just stared up at the ceiling. I started to cry, but then I stopped quickly. Why was I crying? There’s no way she’s dead. It’s not possible. Finally my doctor and the ultrasound tech came into the room.
He looked at the screen and said, “We’re not able to locate any heart tones.”
“Can’t you do a c-section right now? Isn’t there anything you can do?”
He told me no, they couldn’t and that it was too late and that he was sorry.
“So she’s dead?!”
And I can’t remember his exact response, but ultimately it was yes.
“You’re kidding me, right?” I was in shock.
“I would never kid about something like this,” he said.
And I don’t even remember if I started to cry. I don’t remember what I was feeling besides shock. It felt surreal. It was impossible to me that the baby inside me was dead. The doctor started explaining to me that they would take us into a room to explain our options. On our way to the room I was bawling. I’m sure they wished I’d be quiet. I’m sure I was scaring the other patients. We got into the room and sat down and I cried and cried and told Mike how sorry I was. I just kept telling him I was sorry. Mike and the doctor kept telling me that it wasn’t my fault. That it wasn’t anyone’s fault. That I didn’t need to be sorry. But I was sorry…I am still sorry. Then my focus changed and I was telling the doctor to get her out. “You have to get her out of me. Right now. You have to get her out.” I was freaked out at the thought of having a dead baby inside me. He told me that we were going to discuss my options. I thought to myself, “What options? Cut me open. Get her out. That’s it.” But that wasn’t it. Apparently it was better for me to have her naturally. “How cruel!” I thought. I could not imagine going through labor to deliver a dead baby. He said it was safer for me and would cause fewer problems when I had more babies. I remember thinking to myself that I never wanted to have more babies. I trusted him though so I agreed to it. He went on to tell me that we would check into the hospital at 5 PM and they would insert some sort of gel to dilate me, and that in the morning he would come to deliver the baby. He said we’d be able to hold her after she was born and I was horrified at the thought of holding a dead baby. Hold her? I didn’t even want to see her. I just couldn’t imagine looking at, let alone holding, a dead baby. He asked me to undress so he could check to see if I was dilated any and left the room. I undressed quickly. I wanted this all over with quickly. He came back in and checked me. I don’t think I’d made much, if any, progress from last weeks check up. He stepped out and I got dressed. When he came back in he told us that they would insert the gel to dilate me at 5 PM. He said we could go over to the hospital right away, but that he was afraid I’d end up sitting around in the maternity ward waiting for a room to become available. He said we could go home if we wanted. We could walk around the mall. I still don’t understand how he could have possibly suggested we walk around the mall, but at the time I didn’t really care what he was saying. Sometime during all this talk he suggested that we have an autopsy done and we agreed. He tried to comfort us by saying that it could have happened after she was born and then it might be more painful because we got that time to get to know her. At the time that did seem logical to me, but now I don’t agree. I don’t think I hurt any less because I never got to meet her alive. I’m not sure which would be worse or if they are equal, but I do know that I mourn never getting to hear her cry, never getting to see her with her eyes open, never having her grasp my finger with her little hand, never getting to bathe her, never getting to dress her, etc.
After all the formalities were over we left the doctor’s office. We had taken two cars and Mike decided to drive us in my car because he didn’t think I was in any condition to drive. We decided that since it was only 3 PM that we would go home and wait until they were ready for us at the hospital at 5 PM. I don’t remember crying on the drive home. I was in shock. I think we both were. Neither of us could decide how we were going to tell anyone. It seemed so inappropriate to call my parents on the phone to tell them their first grandchild had died. I needed them to be with me though. Once we got to the house Mike called my dad. I don’t know what the conversation was like because I was inside and Mike made all the phone calls outside in our garage away from me. I was so sorry that he had to do that. I am still sorry that he had to do that. I decided to take a shower and change clothes before going to the hospital. When I got out I just sat on the couch in the living room and stared at the TV that wasn’t even on. The garage door opened and my mom, dad, and brother came in. They were all crying so hard. I had maybe seen my dad cry once at his sister’s funeral, but this was different. He was bawling. It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard. My mom sat to my left and my dad to my right and I just cried into my mom’s arms. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I had let them all down. Everyone loved Mackenzie so much already and now what? Shortly after that my grandparents arrived at my house. I had never seen my grandpa cry. We all sat around and cried. I don’t remember much of what was even talked about during that hour or so. I remember Mike telling my parents that the doctor said we could hold her once she was born, but that I had said I didn’t want to. My mom seemed shocked at that and said that she wanted to hold her. Soon it was time to make our way to the hospital. I grabbed my favorite pillow and blanket and we left. On my way to the hospital I texted 5 of my friends, “I cannot say this on the phone. They couldn’t find a heartbeat. I have to deliver her stillborn in the morning.”
On my way to the doctor’s office I rubbed and poked at my belly and half way there I felt a kick. That put my mind at ease. My husband, Mike, met me at the doctor’s office and we headed in for the ultrasound. The first thing the ultrasound technician did was check my fluid levels. My doctor had been keeping an eye on that because for a while there I had too much fluid. After she got the measurements she spent a long time going over and over my belly with the ultrasound wand. I was too afraid to ask what she was looking for. Then she told my husband to get up and stand by my side while she left the room for a minute. We were both confused. She told us she was having a hard time finding a heart beat and needed to get my doctor. She left us in that dark room for what seemed like an eternity (but was probably more like 10 minutes). I was starting to panic and I was getting angry that she just left us in that room alone after saying something as critical as “I’m having a hard time locating a heart beat.” Finally I sent Mike out to go find her and see what the hell was going on. It felt like another eternity while I was lying on that table waiting for Mike to come back. I put my hands in the goo on my belly and started pressing around, being very still, and praying to feel some movement. Nothing. Mike came back in and put his hands on my belly too. He asked me if I’d been feeling her move today and I told him I thought I felt her three times; Twice that morning at work, and once on the drive over to the doctor’s office. That seemed to put his mind at ease, but not mine. I was starting to doubt myself. Had I really felt her move at all today? Was it all in my head? The ultrasound tech came back in to let me know that the doctor was on his way. He was headed back to the office after performing a c-section over at the hospital. I was furious. I told her that was too long to have to wait. “Do you think she’s dead?” I asked her. She said she didn’t know and that I would just have to wait for the doctor and left the room again. It dawned on me that the doctor was probably the only one that was allowed to tell a patient that their baby had died. I don’t think it had dawned on Mike. He held my hand and told me everything was going to be ok. I just stared up at the ceiling. I started to cry, but then I stopped quickly. Why was I crying? There’s no way she’s dead. It’s not possible. Finally my doctor and the ultrasound tech came into the room.
He looked at the screen and said, “We’re not able to locate any heart tones.”
“Can’t you do a c-section right now? Isn’t there anything you can do?”
He told me no, they couldn’t and that it was too late and that he was sorry.
“So she’s dead?!”
And I can’t remember his exact response, but ultimately it was yes.
“You’re kidding me, right?” I was in shock.
“I would never kid about something like this,” he said.
And I don’t even remember if I started to cry. I don’t remember what I was feeling besides shock. It felt surreal. It was impossible to me that the baby inside me was dead. The doctor started explaining to me that they would take us into a room to explain our options. On our way to the room I was bawling. I’m sure they wished I’d be quiet. I’m sure I was scaring the other patients. We got into the room and sat down and I cried and cried and told Mike how sorry I was. I just kept telling him I was sorry. Mike and the doctor kept telling me that it wasn’t my fault. That it wasn’t anyone’s fault. That I didn’t need to be sorry. But I was sorry…I am still sorry. Then my focus changed and I was telling the doctor to get her out. “You have to get her out of me. Right now. You have to get her out.” I was freaked out at the thought of having a dead baby inside me. He told me that we were going to discuss my options. I thought to myself, “What options? Cut me open. Get her out. That’s it.” But that wasn’t it. Apparently it was better for me to have her naturally. “How cruel!” I thought. I could not imagine going through labor to deliver a dead baby. He said it was safer for me and would cause fewer problems when I had more babies. I remember thinking to myself that I never wanted to have more babies. I trusted him though so I agreed to it. He went on to tell me that we would check into the hospital at 5 PM and they would insert some sort of gel to dilate me, and that in the morning he would come to deliver the baby. He said we’d be able to hold her after she was born and I was horrified at the thought of holding a dead baby. Hold her? I didn’t even want to see her. I just couldn’t imagine looking at, let alone holding, a dead baby. He asked me to undress so he could check to see if I was dilated any and left the room. I undressed quickly. I wanted this all over with quickly. He came back in and checked me. I don’t think I’d made much, if any, progress from last weeks check up. He stepped out and I got dressed. When he came back in he told us that they would insert the gel to dilate me at 5 PM. He said we could go over to the hospital right away, but that he was afraid I’d end up sitting around in the maternity ward waiting for a room to become available. He said we could go home if we wanted. We could walk around the mall. I still don’t understand how he could have possibly suggested we walk around the mall, but at the time I didn’t really care what he was saying. Sometime during all this talk he suggested that we have an autopsy done and we agreed. He tried to comfort us by saying that it could have happened after she was born and then it might be more painful because we got that time to get to know her. At the time that did seem logical to me, but now I don’t agree. I don’t think I hurt any less because I never got to meet her alive. I’m not sure which would be worse or if they are equal, but I do know that I mourn never getting to hear her cry, never getting to see her with her eyes open, never having her grasp my finger with her little hand, never getting to bathe her, never getting to dress her, etc.
After all the formalities were over we left the doctor’s office. We had taken two cars and Mike decided to drive us in my car because he didn’t think I was in any condition to drive. We decided that since it was only 3 PM that we would go home and wait until they were ready for us at the hospital at 5 PM. I don’t remember crying on the drive home. I was in shock. I think we both were. Neither of us could decide how we were going to tell anyone. It seemed so inappropriate to call my parents on the phone to tell them their first grandchild had died. I needed them to be with me though. Once we got to the house Mike called my dad. I don’t know what the conversation was like because I was inside and Mike made all the phone calls outside in our garage away from me. I was so sorry that he had to do that. I am still sorry that he had to do that. I decided to take a shower and change clothes before going to the hospital. When I got out I just sat on the couch in the living room and stared at the TV that wasn’t even on. The garage door opened and my mom, dad, and brother came in. They were all crying so hard. I had maybe seen my dad cry once at his sister’s funeral, but this was different. He was bawling. It was the worst sound I’ve ever heard. My mom sat to my left and my dad to my right and I just cried into my mom’s arms. I couldn’t believe it. I felt like I had let them all down. Everyone loved Mackenzie so much already and now what? Shortly after that my grandparents arrived at my house. I had never seen my grandpa cry. We all sat around and cried. I don’t remember much of what was even talked about during that hour or so. I remember Mike telling my parents that the doctor said we could hold her once she was born, but that I had said I didn’t want to. My mom seemed shocked at that and said that she wanted to hold her. Soon it was time to make our way to the hospital. I grabbed my favorite pillow and blanket and we left. On my way to the hospital I texted 5 of my friends, “I cannot say this on the phone. They couldn’t find a heartbeat. I have to deliver her stillborn in the morning.”
Wednesday, August 19, 2009
I'm still here
I haven't posted in a while because my husband found my blog and read it. I really didn't want him to because I just hate for people I know to read my writing. It makes me feel stupid for some reason. Anyways, writing on here and reading other peoples blogs is helping me so I'm going to try and pretend he's not reading :) But I know how nosy you are, Mike. Love you.
Monday was two months since we met Mackenzie. Sunday was two months since we found out she was dead. Sunday we went to the cemetery and I kind of broke down. Sometimes being there doesn't bother me and other times it just hurts so much to think that she's in a tiny baby casket while we stand above her. I cried myself to sleep that night and it's nights like that when I wonder if I'll ever be ok.
Today I stopped at Hobby Lobby on my way home from work. I wanted to buy some stuff to try out a craft I'd seen online, but I got distracted. Instead, I walked every single aisle searching for ladybug stuff. $40 later and I'd bought a lot of scrapbooking stickers, some wooden ladybugs, a ladybug stamp, a ladybug piggy bank, and a ladybug cake pan. I bought the cake pan with the intentions of making her a ladybug birthday cake every year. I almost started crying right there just at the thought that next year I will be baking a cake for my baby that she'll never get to eat. I wonder if I'll cry the whole time I'm baking it. Right now I'd say that's probably exactly what I'll do.
While down one of the scrapbooking aisles I heard someone say Mackenzie. It was a little boy talking to his mom & sister about some girl named Mackenzie at his school. I seriously wonder what it means when things like that happen. It seems like it's on purpose. I mean what are the odds? Before I named Mackenzie I hadn't met or heard of anyone with that name since I was in elementary school. So what's the deal?
As I made my way around the store I saw that they had already started putting out Christmas stuff. What the hell? It's freaking August! If there is one thing I am dreading more than anything in my life right now it's Christmas. I know Christmas is going to hit me so hard. I wish we could skip Christmas this year. We probably could if it weren't for my stepchildren. And my cousin just found out she is pregnant so she'll be showing in December. That's just what I need is to have a pregnant belly staring back at me while I'm missing my baby. I keep thinking that maybe this will be the only Christmas we have to endure without a baby and that maybe by next Christmas I'll have Mackenzie's brother or sister to spoil. I dread even getting out the Christmas decorations because we had a tiny stocking for her last year while she was in my belly and we had "parents-to-be" ornaments, etc. Ugh!!!! I just want to scream! Today at the store I saw baby Christmas ornaments and almost had a hysterical fit right there. Just seeing them made my throat tighten up and tears well up in my eyes. I closed my eyes and walked past them. I want to have a special little Christmas tree just for her and buy her an ornament every year. Now I'm wondering if I can even do it. I'm not even sure I could look at ornaments, let alone pick one out for her without becoming an emotional lunatic right there in the store. Maybe I should shop online and order one.
Oh, and tomorrow the girl at my work (who I share an office with) who was due two weeks before Mackenzie (and actually had her baby on her exact due date) with her own baby girl is coming back from maternity leave. This could be a total nightmare. It's possibly the worst situation I could be in. We basically went through pregnancy together. Both first time moms with baby girls. Due within two weeks of each other. We had our work baby shower jointly. We went to each others baby showers. And she got to keep her baby. Now, for as long as we both work there, every milestone she has with her baby will remind me that I would have been experiencing that exact same thing with Mackenzie. God help me tomorrow. I haven't cried at work yet and I'd like to keep it that way. Wish me luck.
Monday was two months since we met Mackenzie. Sunday was two months since we found out she was dead. Sunday we went to the cemetery and I kind of broke down. Sometimes being there doesn't bother me and other times it just hurts so much to think that she's in a tiny baby casket while we stand above her. I cried myself to sleep that night and it's nights like that when I wonder if I'll ever be ok.
Today I stopped at Hobby Lobby on my way home from work. I wanted to buy some stuff to try out a craft I'd seen online, but I got distracted. Instead, I walked every single aisle searching for ladybug stuff. $40 later and I'd bought a lot of scrapbooking stickers, some wooden ladybugs, a ladybug stamp, a ladybug piggy bank, and a ladybug cake pan. I bought the cake pan with the intentions of making her a ladybug birthday cake every year. I almost started crying right there just at the thought that next year I will be baking a cake for my baby that she'll never get to eat. I wonder if I'll cry the whole time I'm baking it. Right now I'd say that's probably exactly what I'll do.
While down one of the scrapbooking aisles I heard someone say Mackenzie. It was a little boy talking to his mom & sister about some girl named Mackenzie at his school. I seriously wonder what it means when things like that happen. It seems like it's on purpose. I mean what are the odds? Before I named Mackenzie I hadn't met or heard of anyone with that name since I was in elementary school. So what's the deal?
As I made my way around the store I saw that they had already started putting out Christmas stuff. What the hell? It's freaking August! If there is one thing I am dreading more than anything in my life right now it's Christmas. I know Christmas is going to hit me so hard. I wish we could skip Christmas this year. We probably could if it weren't for my stepchildren. And my cousin just found out she is pregnant so she'll be showing in December. That's just what I need is to have a pregnant belly staring back at me while I'm missing my baby. I keep thinking that maybe this will be the only Christmas we have to endure without a baby and that maybe by next Christmas I'll have Mackenzie's brother or sister to spoil. I dread even getting out the Christmas decorations because we had a tiny stocking for her last year while she was in my belly and we had "parents-to-be" ornaments, etc. Ugh!!!! I just want to scream! Today at the store I saw baby Christmas ornaments and almost had a hysterical fit right there. Just seeing them made my throat tighten up and tears well up in my eyes. I closed my eyes and walked past them. I want to have a special little Christmas tree just for her and buy her an ornament every year. Now I'm wondering if I can even do it. I'm not even sure I could look at ornaments, let alone pick one out for her without becoming an emotional lunatic right there in the store. Maybe I should shop online and order one.
Oh, and tomorrow the girl at my work (who I share an office with) who was due two weeks before Mackenzie (and actually had her baby on her exact due date) with her own baby girl is coming back from maternity leave. This could be a total nightmare. It's possibly the worst situation I could be in. We basically went through pregnancy together. Both first time moms with baby girls. Due within two weeks of each other. We had our work baby shower jointly. We went to each others baby showers. And she got to keep her baby. Now, for as long as we both work there, every milestone she has with her baby will remind me that I would have been experiencing that exact same thing with Mackenzie. God help me tomorrow. I haven't cried at work yet and I'd like to keep it that way. Wish me luck.
Wednesday, August 12, 2009
Just another day at the office
Today one of the girls who was pregnant at the same time I was brought her baby to the office to show him off. She walked into my office with him and I felt my whole body get hot. I tried to look at him and act cool, but within a few minutes I had to get the hell out of that room. I sat over by a friend/co-worker of mine and talked and tried to pretend that it wasn't bothering me. Of course, she knew different but she played along to make me feel better. Eventually I just logged into the computer next to hers and kept working because this girl and her little one stayed for over an hour. The shittiest part of this was that when she came into my office (that I share with 4 others) she said "they told me to come in here." WTF!? Who the hell told this girl to bring her 2 month old son into my freaking office? There are two other offices in our department...but the group of managers told her to come into the one where I work. Seriously? No one even seemed to notice that it was an issue. I mean, wasn't it obvious when I left the room within a couple minutes and didn't come back for a long time? In fact, once she left I went to my office long enough to clock out and shut everything down and got the hell out of there before anyone even saw me. Once I got home my friend/one of the managers texted me to see if I was ok. Well, I avoided having a meltdown at work, so I guess I'm "ok."
As a side note, the girl who brought her baby to work was actually due about 3 weeks after me but she had him early...like 4 weeks early. It was a big deal in my office because everyone knew how badly I wanted Mackenzie to hurry up and make her grand entrance, and they knew when I heard she had her baby first that I'd be jealous and they thought that was funny. Yeah well, not only did she get to have her baby before me...she got to keep hers. Guess the joke really is on me.
As a side note, the girl who brought her baby to work was actually due about 3 weeks after me but she had him early...like 4 weeks early. It was a big deal in my office because everyone knew how badly I wanted Mackenzie to hurry up and make her grand entrance, and they knew when I heard she had her baby first that I'd be jealous and they thought that was funny. Yeah well, not only did she get to have her baby before me...she got to keep hers. Guess the joke really is on me.
Monday, August 10, 2009
How sad
I just got home from work and I just have to get this off my chest (although for Leila's Mommy this story might be a repeat).
Today my boss and some other managers were eating lunch in my office (shared with 4 other people) and she began talking about her newest grandchildren. Her daughter had twins (a boy and a girl) a month before Mackenzie was due. She told everyone how one of the little boy's ears was bent down a little and she was going on and on with "isn't that SO SAD?!" and "I think he should get plastic surgery to make it look better." She went on for what seemed like an eternity about how absolutely sad it was that her grandson had an imperfect ear (and I've seen pictures...no one would even notice). Finally I had to leave the room.
I just cannot comprehend how someone can sit in the same room as me and act as if a slight imperfection on a baby's ear is a tragedy.
I could have told her about how Mackenzie had a spot bigger than a quarter on her right check that was raw looking because her skin had already started to come off. Or how there were several other similar places on her little chest and torso, too. I could have told her that Mackenzie's head was indented from the birthing process and because no blood was flowing up there. I could have told her how I watched Mackenzie's face begin to crumple in on itself the longer I held her.
I didn't say anything though. Frankly, I probably couldn't.
These people don't even know what "sad" is. And most of the time I'm glad they don't because I wouldn't wish baby loss on anyone. But sometimes it's hard being inside my head. I'm ALWAYS thinking about Mackenzie. Everything anyone says is filtered through my brain and always gets compared to Mackenzie, or to my loss, or to my grief. It's weird, but that's how it is for me.
Basically what I wish she knew is that I would take any physical imperfection over not having Mackenzie. If Mackenzie had no ears at all, or a missing a finger, or a terrible birthmark, or was blind in one eye, etc. I'd rather give up my ears or fingers or eyesight to have her here. Hell, I'd trade my own life in a heartbeat so that she could be here with her daddy and grandparents so they wouldn't have to suffer anymore.
What I'm saying is that I don't give a rats ass about my boss' grandson's slightly bent ear. And if she'd ever experienced anything similar to what I have...what all of us have...she wouldn't give a shit either.
Today my boss and some other managers were eating lunch in my office (shared with 4 other people) and she began talking about her newest grandchildren. Her daughter had twins (a boy and a girl) a month before Mackenzie was due. She told everyone how one of the little boy's ears was bent down a little and she was going on and on with "isn't that SO SAD?!" and "I think he should get plastic surgery to make it look better." She went on for what seemed like an eternity about how absolutely sad it was that her grandson had an imperfect ear (and I've seen pictures...no one would even notice). Finally I had to leave the room.
I just cannot comprehend how someone can sit in the same room as me and act as if a slight imperfection on a baby's ear is a tragedy.
I could have told her about how Mackenzie had a spot bigger than a quarter on her right check that was raw looking because her skin had already started to come off. Or how there were several other similar places on her little chest and torso, too. I could have told her that Mackenzie's head was indented from the birthing process and because no blood was flowing up there. I could have told her how I watched Mackenzie's face begin to crumple in on itself the longer I held her.
I didn't say anything though. Frankly, I probably couldn't.
These people don't even know what "sad" is. And most of the time I'm glad they don't because I wouldn't wish baby loss on anyone. But sometimes it's hard being inside my head. I'm ALWAYS thinking about Mackenzie. Everything anyone says is filtered through my brain and always gets compared to Mackenzie, or to my loss, or to my grief. It's weird, but that's how it is for me.
Basically what I wish she knew is that I would take any physical imperfection over not having Mackenzie. If Mackenzie had no ears at all, or a missing a finger, or a terrible birthmark, or was blind in one eye, etc. I'd rather give up my ears or fingers or eyesight to have her here. Hell, I'd trade my own life in a heartbeat so that she could be here with her daddy and grandparents so they wouldn't have to suffer anymore.
What I'm saying is that I don't give a rats ass about my boss' grandson's slightly bent ear. And if she'd ever experienced anything similar to what I have...what all of us have...she wouldn't give a shit either.
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