Olympic Fever

I did it! I battled my recent anxiety demons which prevented us from participating in the Olympic Torch festivities (I have some anxiety issues since losing the baby - crowds is a particular sore spot, especially WITH my kids) and we headed to downtown Vancouver to take in the sites & the excitement of having the winter Olympics so nearby. I just knew I would always regret it if we didn't.
We drove in & battled a little bit of traffic to ultimately get a really good parking spot only a couple of blocks from the Olympic cauldron. Unfortunately, after bringing my "fancy" camera & stopping on the way for fresh batteries, we got downtown to realize there was NO MEMORY CARD in the camera!! ugh.

So, thank goodness for cell phone cameras (and we did have the video camera) to capture a bit of the excitement.

First - The Olympic Cauldron!


Then we headed to McDonald's for dinner -
always a thrill for the kids!
Here they are in their patriotic outfits:


It was while we were finishing up eating that the Canadian Women's Hockey Team won GOLD!!!
It was SO amazing to feel the collective excitement of that moment with the entire city!



Once it got dark, the cell phone did not cooperate anymore, but we did manage to snap this one at the Olympic countdown clock...

And we were back on the road heading home by 7pm - it was great time & I am SO glad we did it!

New Normal

I suppose an update is in order...

Life is moving along. I am doing surprisingly well... better than I would have imagined mysef doing in this circumstance before I actually had to be here. But the last few days have been difficult again. Not entirely sure why...

I will try not to be a TMI (too much info) blogger... the intimate & raw details of my life seem so exposed right now that my sensor is a little off.

I have been to see my OBGYN. The preliminary autopsy results (we won't get the full results for weeks, maybe months, yet) give no real answers. Makenna was developing completely normally, but delayed. She was approximately 4 weeks behind in development from where she should have been. The umbilical cord was abnormally long, which can be a sign of placental problems... which would affect the amount of oxygen and/or nourishment she was getting... which would explain her delay in size... none of which can be confirmed yet...

None of which really makes a lot of difference.

There isn't really anything that would make it "okay" that we lost her. It just gives us logic. I suppose logic is somewhat comforting - to the mind at least.

I had my 6 week "post" blood work done. Once again, felt like I walked out of there a raisin. Until this experience, I never wondered if it was "safe" to have that much blood taken. I appreciate the science & my OB's hope to prevent this from happening again - but wow.

I have been so fortunate... I have the MOST amazing friends that anyone could ask for.

So many people wonder what to do or say when someone suffers a tragedy like this. Not my friends...

They got together, made a beautiful card for me full of encouraging & loving words. My favorite words however, were these:

"We have arranged and paid for a cleaning service to come to your home for 1.5 hours, once a week for the next 9 weeks. This service will begin on Tues. Jan 5th at 9am, unless you call the following number to make other arrangements because that day/time doesn't work"

Seriously?!?! I honestly wept for most of the day that I received that card simply from being overwhelmed. I felt SO loved - and continue to feel loved every time my house is scrubbed shiny clean, by someone other than me!

Seriously, Girls... my cup runneth over.

Evan's preschool teacher also very thoughtfully gave us this book:

If you can't read the title, it is "We were gonna have a baby, but We had an Angel Instead". It is the sweetest book about the feelings a child has when the family suffers a pregnancy loss. Talks about seeing their parents sad & crying - also about the feelings they have. (Click HERE for the link to purchase). It is a great resource & such a thoughtful gift.

I think the last couple of days have been hard because I feel the pull of the tide. I was so buoyed up in the beginning by the throngs of our friends, family & even just casual acquaintances who shared the deepness of our tragedy. Some almost as poignantly as we did. It was truly a wave of support. I have felt the prayers & thoughts of these people help us to shoulder the pain.

As time goes on, they are naturally (and understandably) returning to their own lives & our tragedy has lost it's sharp edges for them. So now, 6 weeks later... what was "all of our tragedy" is becoming just mine - and it is starting to feel heavy again. Some days too heavy to shoulder & I fear it might crush me. My other children & amazing husband help me through. I am rediscovering strength in my character I had forgotten or didn't know was there... but weakness, too.

I saw this on a Stillbirth Support Group site that I have been frequenting as of late & thought it was so eloquent & so perfectly described my current experience, that I had to share...

New Normal

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.

Normal is staring at every pregnant woman wondering how far along she is, then thinking how far along I should be and imagining I am still pregnant as I should be. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it can't ever happen.

Normal is no matter how many or by what means we have children, there will always be one missing.

Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.

Normal is making sure that others remember my baby.

Normal is I will celebrate my childs birth and mourn the death all on the same day.

Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having your child die is unnatural.

Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone because you are stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.

Normal is some days being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.

Normal is avoiding friends because the site of them and their new baby tears my heart in two and reminds me again of what I lost.

Normal is finding excuses not to go to baby showers and birthday parties because you don't want your loss and sadness to overshadow anyones special day.

Normal is having to bite your tongue when people say stupid things because you know they mean no harm, they are just ignorant.

Normal is being avoided by people who know because they are uncomfortable talking about it.

Normal is I NEED to talk about it.

Normal is everyday finding the strength to get out of bed even though there are days you feel like you can't.

Normal is knowing that 80% of relationships will not survive the loss of a child and wondering if you will beat the odds.

Normal is blaming yourself and wondering if others blame you too.

Normal is knowing that I will never again be able to enjoy a pregnancy because it will be plagued with fear and remembrance of how this one ended.

Normal is I wouldn't give back the weeks I shared with my child because sometimes love is so great that saying hello and goodbye in the same moment is worth it.

Normal is knowing I will never "get over" this loss, in a day or a million years.

And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".

I don't want to give the impression that I am inconsolable. It is not the case. I do have much to be thankful for. My children make me laugh daily - even on the rough days.
The healing is happening, but the wound is still fresh. It is a week to week, sometimes day to day, or even hour to hour experience. The last 48 hours or so, I feel weak. I feel fatigued from it all.

Your prayers and thoughts help in ways I could never explain... I appreciate them all.

Loss

Once again, I am caught in a conundrum. I have neglected my blog. There are lots of good things that have happened to us in the past months. Life was cruising along at its usual pace... maybe we got a little too complacent with the normalcy of it all... didn't seem like there was a whole lot to report...

Graham was working as a TOC (teacher on call) and unlike previous years, the calls were few & far between. We had made the decision that he would return to school in January, and EI was helping us connect week to week financially & all the necessary preparartions for Graham's return to school went off without a hitch.

Then November...

We are currently reeling from some of the most difficult months, we have ever suffered as a family. Thus the conundrum. I am a little lost in the "mist of grief" - it makes it hard to remember what of significance happened before now.

But I will try...

The beginning of November, Averie & I began our much anticipated trip to Florida to visit my good friend, Alana & her daughters & have amazing adventures together - including an overnighter to Orlando/Disneyworld & Marineland where Averie got to have a "touch & feed" encounter. She got to feed & touch a dolphin named "Sunny" and even got to be a Jr. Trainer - getting Sunny to do tricks, including flips in the air!!

Disneyworld was amazing as expected - we had fun from opening to closing & enjoyed almost everything Magic Kingdom had to offer.

However, the day after we arrived in Florida, I was shocked and devastated by the news that my dear friend, Adam (see THIS post to remember details) had taken his own life the night before. He left behind his wife & a young son - and I was dumbfounded. Without sharing details only privy to his family, there are medical reasons that led to his devastating choice, but they were/are of little comfort in the face of such an enormous loss.

This is not the first time I have had someone dear to me make this choice (see THIS post) and I was lost for a few reasons. I was so grateful to have Alana with me, but missed Graham so deeply. I was in a strange position being on vacation with Averie & not wanting to ruin that experience for her...

It was almost like an out of body experience. Somehow, I was able to squash my feelings down or push them aside during the day and "be on vacation" for Averie, but night time was awful... there were few nights that I was able to drift off before 3am. My brain was a constant slide show of memories & mental snap shots of him. There were so many great memories... how could it be over??? I was also upset because I was stuck. Repeated attempts to talk to the airline about changing my flight so I could make it to his funeral were to no avail. How could I not even have the chance to say goodbye??

Thank goodness there was a second memorial planned for the day I returned that I was able to get to. I don't know how I ever would have found closure without the time I got to spend with friends & family who cared for him as much as I did.

So, life has a way of moving ahead even when it seems it shouldn't & the days don't slow down for anyone. I entered my second trimester of pregnancy & the end of November went for my 20 weeks ultrasound. We found out we were having another girl!! SO exciting!! Evan was a little disappointed at first but he quickly got over it. She was SO active at the ultrasound - the tech had to take extra time & have me change into different positions to get all of the pictures she needed. I joked about how active she had been on the flight home from Florida - she was just tumbling around the whole time! Even though he wasn't supposed to (but didn't know it), Graham videotaped a few seconds of our time there.

On the left, Baby is curled away, you can see her back & her bum - her legs are tucked up & her hand is up by her ear.
The right is a profile - so cute with her mouth open :)

The results of the ultrasound came back saying that she was measuring small (around 18 weeks instead of 20) but this is not uncommon for me as all of my pregnancies have come back with similar results. And there wasn't much concern about it. At my OBGYN appointment, my due date was bumped from April 11th, 2010 to April 24th, 2010. We decided my c-section day would be April 21st, 2010 & all paperwork was filled out & signed to solidify the date.

I didn't think we'd ever come up with a third baby girl name, and my nature doesn't really let me relax when such decisions are to be made... so after a couple of weeks of researching & debating, we decided we would name her Makenna.

December began with it's usual busy-ness. Lots of things to do & attend. I was singing with a group of friends at a couple of church functions & we were having weekly practices. The kids' schools were having all of their Christmas functions. Lots of shopping & preparations. We were spending Christmas at my parents' place in the states, so we were preparing for that as well.

I had a regularly scheduled OBGYN appointment on the morning of Thursday, Dec.17th. I was 2 days shy of 23 weeks pregnant (based on the new dates from my ultrasound).

I was dropping Evan off at preschool & hoping it would be quick because I was going to be late for singing practice.

It was not.

After a few minutes of small talk & such with my OB, I laid back while the doctor got the doppler out to listen to Makenna's heart rate. He doesn't have much patience for the doppler since he also has ultrasound, so he quickly switched over to that. I was happy - I love ultrasounds!

After a few minutes, he asked me a simple question.
"When was the last time you felt your baby move?" I was stunned. I had to think... when did I feel her move last?? Things were so busy... I was rushing around so much... then I remembered... A distinct *bump, bump* when I laid down to go to sleep the night before.

"Last night when I went to bed"

He replied, "I am really concerned. I cannot find your baby's heartbeat. And while I am poking & prodding with the ultrasound, she is not moving."

I was in total shock. I don't think I was really comprehending what he was saying. He quickly made preparations for me to go to the hospital for a follow up ultrasound & had me make arrangements so Graham could come with me as he didn't want me going alone. By the time I left his office, he was offering his condolences & telling me how sorry he was. I was numb till I got to the van & then I started to panic.

I won't go into all of the details here... most of them are precious to my heart, and reserved for the intimate pages of my journal.

But the follow-up ultrasound confirmed what was feared by our OB - our beautiful baby girl's heart had stopped beating. There were no obvious signs of problems. No answers they could give us. I had never had so much as a pregnancy complication in any of my previous 3 pregnancies & had never had a miscarriage before.

I was admitted to the hospital late friday afternoon and induced to labor - Makenna would be the only baby I would ever deliver "naturally" as all my others were born via c-section.

After a night spent in labor, our angel arrived at 8:50am on Saturday, December 19th, 2009. They had anticipated she would weigh around 1 pound... she was only 6oz. The tiniest & yet still most perfect little thing you ever saw. We said hello & goodbye to her all at once.

There are not a lot of people who can say they have lived their worst nightmare...

I have.

Yet even in our grief, I am SO grateful for all the people who have cared for us & who we have needed to come into contact with through this living nightmare. All of the staff at the hospital, the staff at the funeral home, all of our family & friends, people who I would have considered just acquaintances before, have become great confidants & listeners... all have respected us & our daughter & have helped us so much as we head down the long path to healing.

Today has been 2 weeks since our daughter arrived. 16 days since that horrible OB appointment... They have been the hardest 16 days I have lived in a LONG time... possibly ever...

and there still have been smiles... there has been laughter... there has been a nice Christmas & New Year celebrated...

I cannot help but be grateful. For my amazing husband & the relationship we have. For my incredible children, who make me feel blessed every day. All of our family & friends... our knowledge of the plan our Heavenly Father has for us that gives us purpose & perspective, even in suffering...

Life does go on...

I ask your patience. My blog may be different for a while. You will have to forgive me while I travel down the road of grief to healing...