Costa Rica

In several hours we will be leaving on our big trip that wasn't meant to be. I used to feel kind of guilty that we were going, but I don't feel that way anymore. Instead, I'm very excited about our week in Costa Rica. Still, it's sad to me. I was supposed to be staying home this year instead of taking a big trip like we usually do. We were supposed to be loving our little baby Ada and getting to know her more every day. I miss her - Christmas this year was harder than I expect it to be.

If you want to follow our trip or see the picture from the ultrasound, visit my other blog. I probably won't be writing much on here over the next week or so. I hope everybody who reads this blog has a wonderful new year!

Surprised by grief

So Christmas somehow snuck up on me. I think I've been so preoccupied lately with preparing for family to come in to town, getting ready for our trip to Costa Rica, and worrying about the ultrasound this morning with baby #2. Well, the family is here, the trip is a few days away and there's not much to do right now, and the ultrasound went great this morning. Then tonight I went to the Christmas Eve service at my brother and sister-in-law's church, and it hit me. Ada is not here. It's Christmas, and Ada is missing.

I had already thought about Ada earlier today. When I went to the doctor, I made the mistake of opening her brag book that she keeps in the waiting room. Suddenly I was looking at lots of healthy newborn babies - and of course, Ada is one baby my doctor delivered who will never be in her brag book. That was a little too much for me. I was also annoyed by a new person in the office who, to make conversation while taking my blood pressure, asked, "So, is this your first baby?" That lady has a lot to learn about working in an OB office! (My answer, in case you're wondering, was that it's my second pregnancy.) I was sooooo relieved and happy to see the healthy baby and heartbeat on the ultrasound and I immediately got tears in my eyes - but they were happy tears.

So anyway, tonight as I was walking to my seat at church I saw several people oohing and aahing over a tiny little baby boy. I sat down, and the pastor mentioned that there would be a baptism during the service (that's infant baptism at this church). They started playing, "What Child is This," and I cried. All of the tears that I had been holding back just came out. All I could think about is that my baby is not here with me. I am so excited about this baby on the way, but it doesn't replace my baby girl. It's Christmas, and I miss her.

The day we found out that Ada had died, my sister-in-law gave me a book of poems about losing a child. I thought I should share this one tonight:

It's Christmas

It's Christmas,
the baby in the manger,
joy to the world, and I am filled with fear.

It's Christmas,
the baby is in danger,
peace upon earth, my soul is filled with tears.

It's Christmas,
the baby is in the straw,
I see all tiny babies, my soul is filled with awe.

A great weekend

This weekend we went to South Carolina, where we used to live until last summer, to visit my in-laws and lots of our friends. It was even worth the 18 hours in the car! We had fun visiting with everybody, but there are a few moments that stand out to me...

One of my best friends since sixth grade said, "So, when am I throwing you a baby shower?" I told her that May is probably good because I don't want to travel at all in the 3rd trimester, but I had a really hard time even saying that. I have a hard time making plans for the future that involve this baby. I suppose that's normal, especially after a loss, but I want to be excited about this baby and its future! I have my ultrasound on Wednesday morning, so hopefully that will help. I know that's what made Ada "real" to me.

On Saturday I got to hold two different babies. Hope was born in April and Eric was born in August. Every time I see both of them I smile, because they're so cute and I loved seeing how they have grown since the last time I saw them in September. I thought about Ada and how she was supposed to be born in 2008, too. The three of them should have grown up playing together whenever the group of us gets together, but it actually didn't make me too sad. There will be another baby, and they will still all play together. Besides, those babies are so cute that it's impossible to sad around them!

We visited our old church on Sunday morning and so many people came up to talk to us...they were all so nice! Most of them knew we're expecting again and they all knew about Ada. During the service I thought about all of the memories that I have in that sanctuary. Some are silly, like I remember the Sunday after we got engaged and I sat there playing with my diamond and watching all of the colors from the stained glass windows reflected in it. Some are sad, like talking with the pastor when my dad left my mom a couple of years ago. Most are really happy though, mainly our own wedding, and also my friend Emily's wedding there this summer. I was just over 4 months pregnant and I was definitely showing. I was in the wedding, and I remember walking down the aisle and thinking that I either needed to suck in my belly or stick it way out so it would be more obvious that I was pregnant...and of course I chose to stick it out! I remember looking across the sanctuary during the ceremony at Hunter and thinking about how far we had come since our own wedding in the same room 5 1/2 years earlier. Anyway, this past Sunday it brought tears to my eyes to think that I will never get to bring Ada to that wonderful church that has been so good to us. After church Courtney, the pastor who did our wedding and also insisted on flying down here to do Ada's service in our home, told me that he prays for me almost every day. It was very touching to hear that, and it challenged me - who could I say that to?

When we went to Hunter's mom's house, she and Hunter's step-dad were wearing the ribbons I made them for Oct. 15. That was such a nice gesture. We all went to the Melting Pot for dinner instead of exchanging any gifts. Again, I found myself thinking that Ada should be there with her family at Christmas, but everybody was also excited about the baby on the way.

Finally, we spent last night at the home of some of our friends, and they gave us a beautiful ornament. The card said that they will all be remembering Ada this Christmas, and I put a picture of the ornament below. It made me cry (of course :) ) and I was so touched that other people are thinking about Ada this Christmas too. It's nice that the ornament that I made for her won't be the only "Ada ornament" on the tree. My life was not the only life that was touched by Ada's, and that's so good to know. The ornament is perfect.

The mail

For the last few months, checking the mail has become really important to me. Some days I get things I get things that cheer me up and other days I get mail that makes me sad. Today's was kind of bittersweet. I got a Christmas card from my sister, and in it she enclosed the list of poinsettias that had been donated at her church. They are all given in honor or memory of somebody, and she gave one in memory of Ada. I don't know why, but that was really touching to me. I burst into tears - which kind of surprised me - and cried for a couple of minutes. I'm so thankful that my sister did this and remembers Ada with me, but I'm also so sad that Ada is not with us at Christmas this year. I'm very grateful to my sister...what a thoughtful thing to do.

I also got a survey about infant nutrition. It wanted to know what my baby was fed in the hospital, what I've fed the baby over the last 30 days and over the last 7 days. I know this is stupid, but I was actually kind of mad that there was nothing to check on the survey that said, "I never fed my baby anything because she was born dead. My milk even came in and I had intended to breastfeed, but there was no baby to feed." I mean, why isn't THAT an option?? :)

Giving thanks IN all circumstances

This past Sunday, I felt like the sermon could have been written for me. The pastor talked about 1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 which says, "Be joyful always; pray continually; give thanks in all circumstances, for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus." He talked about how this verse can be hard to hear when we go through hard times, and especially for those who are dealing with grief or stress or worry as we approach Christmas. The main point he made - my favorite point - was that this scripture says to give thanks in all circumstances, not for all circumstances. So while I will never, ever be thankful for Ada's death, I can find things to be thankful for that have come from her death.

As he was still preaching (I may have missed a few other points...), I started thinking about the day that we found out that Ada had died. That night my brother and sister-in-law brought dinner over to us and pretty much just sat with us. We were so thankful for their company. Our family always prays before a meal, but I couldn't do it. I asked them to, and neither of them wanted to either - what do you say?? So, Hunter, who normally never prays out loud, said one of the most beautiful prayers I have ever heard. "Thank you for the time we had with Ada and for letting us get to know her." Despite the horrible, devastating news we received that morning, he was able to give thanks in - but certainly not for - those circumstances.

Later in the sermon, the pastor talked about when his own father died and how, when his wife found out, she just sat with him and wept with him. He talked about how the greatest gift when you're grieving is to have somebody else weep with you. For the second time in about 10 minutes, I had to hold back my tears in church. I don't know how I would have dealt with Ada's death if I had not had Hunter to cry with - or the support of so many family members and friends. So thank you, those of you who know me and have supported me, for grieving with me. He was right - it is a wonderful gift.

I want to include the affirmation of faith that we said this Sunday. We normally say the Apostle's Creed, but during Advent we seem to be doing different ones every week. I like this one.

I believe that the eternal Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, who out of nothing created heaven and earth and everything in them, who still upholds and rules them with love, is my God and Father because of Christ his Son. I trust him so much that I do not doubt that God will provide whatever I need for body and soul, and God will turn to good whatever adversity I face in this sad world. God is able to do this because God is almighty; God desires to do this because God is a faithful Father. Amen.

Seriously?

I just got a bill from the nursery at the hospital:

Admission date: 7/16/08
Discharge date: 7/16/08
Patient name: Baby M. (our last name)

Total charges: $361.50

We don't owe anything yet because hopefully the insurance will cover most of it, but I was just really surprised to see this.

Update: After I first posted this, my husband told me that he already knew about it. Our insurance company has responded to this bill by saying that they don't know what this is about. I guess they're wondering who Baby M is and why that baby is not our dependent on the insurance now. Fortunately, I have a wonderful husband and he's taking care of all of the yucky phone calls and paperwork. He was also the one to do all of the paperwork for the funeral home - and there was a lot. I'm so thankful for him.

Paperwork

I went to the doctor today for all of the initial pregnancy paperwork. I had to fill out the exact same forms from last time, only it was a very different experience this time. I didn't realize I would get so emotional when I had to fill out this stuff. I was fighting back tears for a while. Here's a few of the items I answered:

Number of past pregnancies: 1
Living children: 0

Date pregnancy ended (yes, that's what it said!): July 16, 2008
Gestational weeks: 24
Weight of baby: 1 lb, 10 oz
Complications: Stillborn

Have you ever had multiple miscarriages or a stillbirth: yes
Have you ever had a baby born before 37 weeks gestation: yes
Have you ever had a baby born under 5 lbs: yes

Then, I had to fill out this screening thing for people who need assistance. It asks questions about if you smoke, drink, if you're under 18, if you wanted this pregnancy to happen, etc. I wasn't quite sure about how to answer the question, "In the last month, I have felt depressed or helpless." I said no, which was probably untruthful. But then again, I do know that I'm a lot better off this month than I was last month. I'm still grieving my daughter who was still with me 5 months ago - what do you expect? I was honest about the fact that I've been to counseling. (By the way, my last session was last night and we decided to not make any more appointments. I imagine I might go back at some point during this pregnancy, but not on a regular basis.)

The nurse gave me the same exact freebies and the same packet of information that I just got in March. She kept telling me stuff I already knew. I guess not many people have two pregnancies in one year. I really should read back over everything though, because I glanced at the diet section and I had forgotten how much fruit they recommend. I've been focusing more on protein and dairy, because that's what I'm always the worst about eating.

My doctor's office sees all of the newly pregnant people on the same day, so as I looked around there were two other people filling out the same paperwork. I noticed that the girl next to me didn't fill out anything in the past pregnancy section. That was me - last time. I wonder if she's as ignorant as I was. I now know that the phrase "ignorance is bliss" is so true.

The dentist

I went to the dentist last March, just a couple of weeks after I found out I was pregnant. It was the 21st, actually - I remember because I was at the dentist while my nephew was born! Anyway, the dentist told me to just make my next appointment for after the baby was born because they would need to do x-rays the next time. So, I made my appointment for December 10 at 10:00 in the morning - after all, I would be home on maternity leave, right?

In August, I actually had the presence of mind to call the dentist and schedule an appointment for a cleaning then. I knew we would be trying again, and I didn't want to take any risks with x-rays. They canceled my December appointment - or at least, they were supposed to.

So, today I was pretty shocked to hear a message from the dentist confirming my appointment for tomorrow. I called back and the lady was nice enough and canceled the appointment. I didn't explain the situation or anything, but the weird part was that I really wanted to. I have this need to tell everybody about what I've been though to the point that it's ridiculous. I normally don't, though, because I realize that would be kind of weird. It's just that Ada's life never gets any recognition from anybody besides me or family and a close friend or two, and that seems so wrong. She was a person, and everybody should know about her.

Last night I thought about how she should be here for Christmas, and it makes me so sad. Yes, I am happy that there's a baby on the way - it helps so much - but it doesn't take away the pain of losing Ada. What would I have gotten her for Christmas? What would I have put in her stocking? Would she be smiling yet? Would she just sleep through the whole event? I'll never know.

I think about the new baby a lot, too. I keep fixating on whether this baby is going to be a girl or a boy. If it's a boy, that might be a good thing because it will force me to see this baby as its own person and not as a "replacement" in any way. I love my little nephew so much, and I know I would love having a boy. If it's a girl, I would also be thrilled. I feel like I was robbed of having a daughter, and I'm so afraid I might never have another girl. I know that's selfish, but I can't help it. I was just SO EXCITED to having a girl. Yet, if it is a girl, I'm afraid that I might feel like I'm replacing Ada, and I don't want that at all. Of course, either way, all that I really care about is that the baby is healthy.

Ada's Ornament

I picked up Ada's ornament from the pottery place tonight. It looks pretty good. It's very simple, and that's how I wanted it. When I got home, Hunter and I put it on the tree together. It was surprisingly emotional for me. I don't think I've cried since I found out I am pregnant, but I definitely did tonight. I told Hunter that Ada is supposed to be here. I'm very happy about the tiny little baby growing inside of me, but I miss Ada. I will always miss Ada.

I haven't been completely happy with my church lately for several reasons, but one is that I feel like nobody there cares our loss. I think they consider it a thing of the past and have probably forgotten about it. (As a side note, I haven't told anybody at church yet that I'm pregnant. I don't really feel like sharing that there. Yet.) Anyway, last night I realized why some people might not be so sympathetic - I don't think they understand. Yesterday the youth were having a conversation about how many times they had been in the hospital (lots of ER experiences) and I quietly said to the lady I work with - the person I know the best in the entire church - that I've only been in the hospital once. She said, "Was it the ER?" I answered, "No, the maternity ward...for delivery." She was quiet for a minute, and then started asking questions. She had no idea that I was induced and in labor with my dead baby. On the one hand, I think to myself that I was 5 1/2 months along - how did she think that the baby came out? But for the most part, I understand. You often don't know what people are going through unless you've been there yourself. She's nearly 50 years old, but she doesn't have any children herself so she probably hasn't thought this through too well. Later on I decided to open up to her a little bit more and show her Ada's picture if she wanted to see it, but she had to go. I don't know if I'll bring it back up again. Nobody wants to hear about it, right? It seems like I get myself in this situation a lot. I can be such an introvert that it takes me a while to open up to somebody. When I finally feel comfortable, it seems like they've moved on to something or someone else. Okay, I'm being a little dramatic here, but I do feel that way sometimes.

Presidential due dates

Ada was due on November 5, one day after the historic presidential election. I had been hoping Obama would win since...I'm not sure - at least 2006. We went to Washington, D.C. for our anniversary that year and I labeled the picture of us at the White House, "The future home of Barack Obama." Anyway, as I've already posted on here, I was really hoping that Ada would be born one day early on election day and that Obama would win the election. I only got half of my wish.

So, today when my mom brought that up and asked, "Well, do you know what August 4 is?" I had no idea what the answer was. Besides the fact that it is (I assume) my due date with this baby, I couldn't think of anything. I thought for a minute, but came up blank. "It's Obama's birthday!" she finally informed me. Now, I'm not obsessed with Obama or anything, and a politician's birthday is not the same as the day that America made a historic decision, but I did think it was pretty funny!

Oh, and I should add that my mom found out that she was pregnant with me on the day that Reagan was inaugurated (Jan. 20, 1981). I'm not sure how that factors into this!

Baby clothes

I did a little bit of early bird shopping this morning. (I didn't leave until about 7:45 - I'm not that crazy!) I was looking for a few Christmas gifts, but I also was looking for a little baby Thanksgiving outfit on clearance. The first thing I ever bought Ada was a St. Patrick's outfit on clearance after the holiday. I'm not a big St. Patrick's celebrator or anything, but it was cute, gender neutral, and only $3 or $4. Now that outfit is just sitting in a drawer upstairs. I'm not sure what to do with it.

Anyway, I went to look at baby clothes today for the first time since July. It wasn't too sad, but I realized that the clothes that kept grabbing my attention were for little girls. I saw several outfits that were so cute, and I thought that what I should be doing is buying things like that for Ada. It was a fleeting thought, and I am very happy about this baby on the way, but this baby doesn't replace my loss. I guess I'm learning what any mother does when she has a second child. You love all of your children - just because you have a second child that you love, you don't love the first one any less.

It's positive!!!

I woke up at 4:45 this morning, woke up Hunter, and took the pregnancy test....and I'm pregnant!!! I had really convinced myself over the last day or two that I wasn't, because I'm tired of being disappointed. Hunter and I both held each other and cried tears of both joy and sadness - but mostly joy. We managed to wait until 6:00 to start calling family members. I will call my doctor next week, but I assume that the due date will be on or around August 4.

This blog is about Ada, and I plan to keep it that way. I have another blog (there's a link on the right) that I will keep updated through this pregnancy, but I know I will continue to mourn Ada. I think Christmas will be especially hard, but at least now I have a lot of hope for next year.

For all of my other friends who are still trying after a loss, I hope that this gives you hope but I'm sure it's not easy to read that somebody else finally got their "Rainbow Baby" while you haven't gotten yours yet. I'm sorry, and I don't know what to say. Just know that I keep thinking about you, and I can't wait to celebrate with you when you get yours too!

Passion

I am enjoying my job again - finally! This is the first time this school year that I have been excited about what I do. This is mostly thanks to the great national teaching conference I went to this past weekend. I got so many good ideas that it was almost overwhelming, but it started to make me feel my passion for teaching once again.

Last night I totally redid my lessons from now through Christmas break. I was going to start a new chapter today and do the same old stuff...a listening activity here, a speaking activity there, etc. I do normally manage to make learning the language fun, but it's never as relevant as it should be.

Today, I had my students make passports and write a postcard about themselves to their new "host family" in Mexico. I told them that tomorrow we are flying to Mexico (thanks to Google Earth, they will be able to see what that looks like...sort of) and we'll spend the next few weeks there. Tomorrow we'll have our pretend flight complete with an in-flight movie and flight attendants. During class for the next few weeks they'll have tasks to do that teach the same material that I would have done, but it will be much more meaningful. For example, instead of making a ven diagram with foods that are for breakfast and foods that are for lunch (an activity in the textbook), they'll make a shopping list for their host mom of their favorite foods for breakfast and lunch. I just hope I can be creative enough to come up with stuff like this for every day.

Sorry for the rambling about teaching, but I am excited that I am excited about teaching. It's been months since I've felt this kind of motivation.

Now, I'm just anxious to see what I find out in the next few days... So far, so good.

Dreams

Since we lost Ada, I've really only had one dream/nightmare (that I remember) that had to do with her. I had two last night though. Neither of them were particularly bad, but they were both sad and left me feeling helpless.

The first dream I had was that I was traveling and I was looking through my suitcase for clothes. I had a bunch of baby girl clothes packed in there too, and I thought about how I don't need those now. Then I pulled out the exact same outfit in three sizes: 0-3 months, 3-6 months, and 6-9 months. I got upset because I knew my baby was 4 months old, but I didn't know what size she needed. Is she tiny? Or average? Or really big? (I know people whose 5-month-old was wearing 12 month clothing.) I wanted to see her, but nobody would let me see her and I was frustrated. Why was everybody keeping me from my baby? I kept wondering what she looked like. This dream surprises me, because I really don't think much about how big Ada would be now or how old she would be. I guess I do in my subconscious though!

Then, in a separate dream, I was watching somebody else's baby. It was strange, like I wasn't baby-sitting but I was "borrowing" the baby. I realized that I had been watching her for over a day now and didn't have a change of clothes or food or a new diaper for her or anything. She didn't seem to mind, but I was ashamed of myself for not taking good care of this baby. I kept wondering where the parents were, and aren't they missing her? I looked at her and thought that Ada would probably be cuter than this baby. Then I noticed that she had eczema on her face (a problem I have right now on my hands so I know it hurts), and then I looked at her again and realized it was ALL over her body and she was crying now. I didn't know what to do, and for some reason I never picked her up.

So, I woke up from these crazy thoughts floating around in my subconscious and told Hunter about them. It turns out, he had a dream last night too! He dreamt that a friend of ours was pregnant and that we were all at dinner when our friend said that she couldn't feel the baby move anymore - she couldn't feel her move. (Notice that it's a girl, too, just like in all of my dreams.) He said he woke up in the middle of the night and cried a little bit.

I don't know what brought on all the dreams. I guess it was just a coincidence. I was thinking about Ada last night before I slept, though. My mom is in town and she and my sister-in-law and I went to paint pottery together. I asked them to go with me because I wanted to make an ornament for Ada. I painted it a dark pink and then used red puff paint to write "Ada" on one side and "7.16.08" on the other side. When I went to put it with the other stuff to be fired, there was a little plate there that somebody had made for their baby's first Christmas. That was sad. I did have a good time though, and my sister-in-law was sweet and asked me what I imagined that Ada would be like one day and also talked about some of the blogs that link off of this one. She is a very compassionate person and I'm glad I have family who cares about me and loves me.

Some good days

I always post on here when I'm down, so I figured I should post something positive for once. The past couple of days have been pretty good ones for me. I still feel kind of - I don't know, empty, in a way - but I have actually been getting things done. For example, I have always been bad about grading papers, but I have been especially bad the past couple of weeks. It's the only part of my job that I don't like (dread is probably the word), and I just let myself get more and more behind. The past few days though, I have felt like a normal person and had the drive to get everything done. So, I am all caught up on grading for the first time in a couple of weeks. (Too bad I'm giving a test on Thursday...) :)

Saturday was bad. It was possibly my worst day since the week Ada died. I was feeling so low, and in hindsight, I don't really know where that came from. I could not make myself get out of bed. At about 11:00 that morning (very late for me), Hunter finally - literally - forced me out of bed. He held me while I cried and told me I am going to get better and that he loves me. I know this might sound weird, but him telling me that DID make me feel better. Somehow the rest of the day gradually improved, and I am suddenly feeling almost back to my old, normal self. I know that people who know me worry about me, and Saturday does make me worry about myself a little bit, but the counselor has told me to expect to still have some bad days now and then and to let myself have them. He tells me that it's how grief is, and we can't just suddenly be over it. Even if I'm having a great month, I might still have a bad day here or there.

I love roller coasters, but this is one that I am ready to get off of! I just hope I don't have any more dips like Saturday's in the near future. The past few days have felt really good. I've even made the effort to be more social again, which is one thing that's been really hard for me. I want to have friends, but then I never call anybody or make plans or even stop by my friends' classrooms to say hi in the morning. Also, like I said, I've been getting things done. Before, I would do things like clean the kitchen just to give myself something to do. Now, I do it more for the satisfaction of seeing the job completed. It's hard to describe, and it probably sounds kind of trivial, but there really is a big difference there.

My mom is coming down on Thursday and we're spending the next two days at a teaching conference (we're both teachers). Then next week is Thanksgiving, which I'm actually looking forward to. I think these things are all helping me, because they give me something in the future to be excited about.

4 months

Yesterday was 4 months since Ada was born - and I just now realized it. Maybe that's a sign of progress that I'm not dwelling on the dates...?

I am not okay

I tell everybody that I'm okay, but I'm not. I am feeling better than I did a month or two ago, but I'm not where I was before Ada died. I wonder if I will ever be back to how I used to be. Right now I just don't feel up to speaking - literally. It doesn't seem worth the effort. What is wrong with me?

Last night we went to see an awesome night shuttle launch - it was the first launch I'd seen since 6 days after I found out I was pregnant with Ada. We went with another couple who has a one-year-old and is expecting again. They don't know about Ada. Several times I wanted to make comments about when I was pregnant just to make conversation (like when it came up that she can't eat feta cheese), but I realized that it would probably make them uncomfortable, so I just stayed quiet.

Then, while we were waiting for the shuttle to launch, there was a family nearby. They had a little boy and a tiny baby girl. I kept wondering when she was born. How big would Ada be now? Is this baby about the same size that Ada would be? Of course, I didn't say anything, not even to Hunter, because what's the point?

And then I get home and get this email about an Advent class at church:

I want those who plan to attend the First Sunday, November 30, at 9:30 AM to bring one or two pictures of their babies to share with us. My babies are now 55 and 58.

Do you really want me to bring a picture of my baby?? And by the way, I will only be bringing one picture, not two, because that's all I have. What about all of the people who don't have babies? I thought this was extremely insensitive. And of course, once again, I'll probably just remain quiet - or not go. Nobody wants to hear me or my sad story.

Death in the family

The Miscarriage
by Linda Wasmer Andrews

There has been a death in the family.
There has been a death in the family.

No eulogy, no coffin,
No funeral, no black.

And yet, there has been a death in the family.

No undertaker, no hearse,
No cemetery, no grave.

And yet, there has most assuredly been a death in the family.

No belly, no fullness,
No lifeline, no baby.

There has been a death in the family.

Stuffed animals

The theme for Ada's nursery, which we planned to keep the same for all future babies, is animals around the world. I have this really cute painting of a world map (see below) with animals drawn on the places where they are from - there's a bald eagle in the US, a penguin in Antarctica, etc. I also started collecting stuffed animals and planned to put up a shelf of them. I got a llama, a giraffe, and an elephant, plus I already had a few of my own. So this afternoon I went to Kohl's (it was one of the first times I've actually felt like going out in a while) and they had a bunch of cute stuffed animals for $5 each - including a penguin. I love penguins. I went ahead and bought it, but I hope I'm not jinxing anything.

This is not the first time I've seen animals that I wanted to get for the nursery since Ada died, but it's the first time I've actually bought one. It was just too sad before. About 2 weeks after she died, Hunter and I went to Tampa for a day; we really just needed to get out of town. We spent the morning at a place called Big Cat Rescue, which we both loved. The name pretty much says it all, but basically they are a non-profit organization whose mission is to rescue big cats (lions, bobcats, cougars, ocelots, servals, etc.) from being abused by humans or who are orphaned as cubs and cannot survive on their own. It is not a zoo, and their number one priority is to keep the cats happy rather than entertain people. Anyway, after the tour we stopped by the gift shop. They had all kinds of stuffed animals - it made me cry there in the shop. I just couldn't buy one.

For Ada's due date, Hunter and I made a donation to Big Cat. We will get a small plaque on one of the "Cat-A-Tats" (like reallllly giant cages) that will say in memory of Ada. Plus, we also get quite a few passes so we can go back and see it. I'm not sure yet if we'll get to choose which cat gets the plaque (we're still waiting for the paperwork), but that could be interesting to pick one out. I'm thinking maybe the white tiger. As I learned on the tour, white tigers are not a species and they only live in captivity by imbreeding. This causes many defects, early deaths, and stillbirths. That caught my attention.

Hope

I am feeling hopeful today for a few reasons. For one, I am hopeful that we just conceived another baby. If my body doesn't tell me otherwise first, I plan to take a pregnancy test on Thanksgiving Day. I will either have something to be really thankful for, or...well, I don't want to consider the alternative just yet. But I am optimistic, partly because this month is our fourth try since losing Ada, and we conceived Ada on our fourth try last time. Also, Thanksgiving last year was when we first started trying. We would really have come full circle. Plus, my body seems to be doing better and I am hoping that I am finally healed enough for this to work.

I used to be embarrassed to discuss this sort of thing. Last time we were trying, nobody knew but the two of us, so of course I never talked about it. I considered it a very private matter. I have a new perspective now though. I want to tell everybody that we're expecting as soon as we know, because what's the point in being so cautious? Last time not even our own mothers knew until I was 14 weeks pregnant, but it really made no difference in the end. There were 10 weeks there when we knew and we could have been sharing our joy with others. Hunter and I were the only ones who knew about Ada for more than half of her life.

The other reason that I am feeling hopeful is that I feel like I'm doing better emotionally and spiritually. I went to my counselor again last night and I left feeling, well, hopeful. For "homework" the week before, he had me fill out this sheet about difficult times in my life and how God was present in those times. 3 of the 4 situations that I wrote about are things that, looking back on them, I am actually thankful for - although at the time, I thought I was having the worst experience of my life. What I wrote down that I learned during those times included "God answers prayers, just sometimes the timing is not what we expect" and "God has a plan for us even when we can't see it." Hmmm.

Psalm 42

As the deer pants for streams of water,
so my soul pants for you, O God.
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God.
When can I go and meet with God?

My tears have been my food
day and night,
while men say to me all day long,
"Where is your God?"

These things I remember
as I pour out my soul:
how I used to go with the multitude,
leading the procession to the house of God,
with shouts of joy and thanksgiving
among the festive throng.

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.
My soul is downcast within me;
therefore I will remember you
from the land of the Jordan,
the heights of Hermon—from Mount Mizar.

Deep calls to deep
in the roar of your waterfalls;
all your waves and breakers
have swept over me.

By day the LORD directs his love,
at night his song is with me—
a prayer to the God of my life.

I say to God my Rock,
"Why have you forgotten me?
Why must I go about mourning,
oppressed by the enemy?"

My bones suffer mortal agony
as my foes taunt me,
saying to me all day long,
"Where is your God?"

Why are you downcast, O my soul?
Why so disturbed within me?
Put your hope in God,
for I will yet praise him,
my Savior and my God.

Manic Monday

I woke up in a foul mood today. I'm not really sure why. Maybe it's a case of the Mondays. I had a great weekend - we went camping at Suwanee River State Park in northern Florida with friends. It was beautiful and relaxing. We took a few short hikes, watched the river, read, ate yummy camping food, stared at the fire, and enjoyed the company. The weather was even perfect. It was sunny almost the entire time, and just cool enough to make you want to sit by the fire.

To me right now there are three categories of friends. I have friends who don't understand what I'm going through and couldn't care less - or, if they do, they sure don't show it. I have friends who can't quite understand, but they want to and they care about me. They are compassionate. And then I have friends who DO understand, because they have experienced the pain of losing a child themselves. I have very few friends in that last category (that's a good thing, I guess, because I wouldn't wish this on anybody), but the other couple that we went camping with is in that category. They've had two miscarriages this year. It's so unfair.

In my anger I want to go on and on about why this is not fair. I want to list all of the reasons why we and this other couple are "deserving" in my eyes and so many people who seem to pop babies out left and right are not. But dwelling on that is not healthy. My anger makes me judgemental.

I was challenged by a recent post on another blog that I read and this is my resolution: I do not want Ada's life to turn me into a bitter and judgemental person. I know my anger at this point in the grief process is natural, but I need to control it. Instead of turning into someone I don't like, I want to direct myself towards being a better person thanks to Ada's brief little life. I want her precious life to change me by leaving me with strength and compassion rather than anger and bitterness.

Right now, though, I am a person that I don't like. I lack motivation. I don't get things done like I wish I did. Miraculously (considering my apathy), I did a very good lesson today that really got my students speaking in Spanish and I even happened to get observed, but most days I feel like I'm not doing my best at work. I'm not as good of a teacher as I was last year, and I hate that. I am irritable and easily annoyed. I am annoyed by slow drivers, students who don't show up for a makeup test before school after I made the effort to be there early, parents who don't respond to my multiple phone calls about their child's behavior, Thanksgiving and Christmas decorations (because who feels like celebrating?) ...pretty much everything. I wish I could be the person that I used to be, but I know that's never going to happen.

I did have my checkup today and everything seems normal. I've had a little bit of bleeding when I shouldn't, but the doctor didn't seem too concerned. If it happens again this month, though, she wants me to get an ultrasound. Nothing could be as bad as my last ultrasound, but I hope my next one is because I'm pregnant again and not for this.

Also, for you Twilight fans who read this, I am almost done with Breaking Dawn. I should finish it tonight. I could definitely write another post about how I relate to Bella in that book...but I'll just stop here. :)

Replacement

Wow, I am a post-writing fanatic tonight. I thought I was done, but then I saw something on Facebook that I had to mention here.

One of my friends lost her dog this week...he was hit by a car. Here was somebody's response: "I know how easily we become attached to our pets. They're our furry children. Have you thought about getting a new one?"

If you lost your child, would your only concern be getting a new one??? People seem to think that if I just get pregnant again then everything will be okay. But just like my friend will always miss her dog and all that was special about that dog, I will always miss Ada and all of the ways that she was special to me.

Okay, now I really am done for the day!

Alone in a group

Tonight I had a meeting at church. The lady who wasn't there last month because she was having her baby was back tonight...you guessed it, with the baby. And it's a cute, dark-haired girl.

Before she got there somebody else said that she was coming, and another person's response was "Oh! We'll have to pass that baby around the table!"

I pretended to go to the bathroom. I just had to go in there to cry for a couple of minutes.

Well, the baby was pretty quiet, and thankfully we did not pass her around. Still, everybody oooohed and aaahhed over her and made the meeting take twice as long as it should have. I got out of there as quickly as I could. I felt so lonely in that group.

Out of the 5 other people at the meeting, 3 of them know about Ada (including the new mom). They all sent me a card after we lost her. That's the last any of them have ever said to me about her. Do they think we've forgotten??? Did they not see the flowers at church that mentioned that her due date was yesterday? It was just so hard to be in that meeting tonight.

Ada's due date

Ada's due date came and went without any real fanfare. Like I already mentioned, we took the day off and went to the beach in the morning. It's the closest thing that we have to visiting a grave, after all. I was supposed to have a checkup with my doctor, but right when I got there they were calling me to say that she was tied up in the hospital. Somebody ELSE was having a baby on my baby's due date. That stung. They told me I could wait around or reschedule. I'm going back on Monday.

Otherwise, though, most of the day was just "blah" like the cool cloudy weather. I did have an appointment with my counselor too, and it was somewhat productive. My previous post comes from some of what we talked about.

I thought yesterday would be remarkable somehow. I thought I would cry and cry, but I really didn't. It was just like any other day...and that's what is so terribly sad about it.

Pure joy?

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. Perseverance must finish its work so that you may be mature and complete, not lacking anything. James 1:2-3

Joy? Pure joy? That's not exactly what I would call what I'm feeling right now. To be honest, the first part of this verse almost makes me mad. How can I consider it joy that my daughter died? How could anybody possibly expect that of me?

BUT... I don't think that's what James is saying. I'm smart enough to understand that. This verse challenges me to look for the good that is coming out of this experience. In 50 years when I look back on all of the challenges that I faced in my life, I hope that I will feel some satisfaction when I think about how I came through everything and handled the obstacles in life.

"Mature and complete"...yes, I do feel like I've aged about 10 years over the last few months. I feel like I'm much wiser and much more compassionate than I was before. When I feel isolated, I think a lot about others who are isolated in our society. Who do I isolate? Who wishes that I cared about their problems, like I wish that more people would show me that they care about mine?

Still, I don't know why I had to go through this to grow in maturity. I still don't believe that God willed for Ada to die. I will never believe that. But this is the part that I struggle with...why didn't God intervene? I can only come to two conclusions.

1. God couldn't intervene. I don't mean to sound blasphemous, because I've always believed (and yes, I still do) that God can do anything. But I have to consider this option. Maybe when God set the world in motion with all of its natural laws (gravity, humans needing oxygen, etc.) he can't go back on those laws. Well, if that's the case, why do we ever pray for anything?

2. God could intervene but chose not to. Well, excuse my language here, but why the hell not? Either he doesn't care, which I certainly don't believe, or he does - but there's something greater going on than I can understand. And I guess that's the only reasonable conclusion that I can come to. But I don't like it.

Today

Today has been...odd. It's not exactly what I expected. I think it's mainly because I'm sleep-deprived.

Last night I stayed up late to watch the election results and Obama's speech. At 11:00 when they announced that he won, there was a picture of him up on the screen and it said "The 44th president of the United States of America." The magnitude of that moment hit me, and I actually got tears in my eyes. I was just so excited about seeing history being made and seeing that this country is going in a new direction. I always vote in every election (not just presidential elections), and this is the first time a person I've voted for has ever won. It felt so good.

Then, I began to cry much harder because I realized how much I wanted Ada to be born on election day. I know it's silly, and of course it would not have mattered if she came on a different date, but I was sad more because I realized that she would never witness this historic day. I will never get to tell her how history was made on (or close to) the day she was born.

A student let me borrow the third book in the series I've been reading yesterday, and I finished it this morning. Besides watching the news, that's pretty much all I've been doing since I left work yesterday. I haven't had time to stop and think about Ada. I haven't really let myself.

My husband and I both took today off. This morning we got up early to go to the beach and watch the sun rise like we did when we scattered her ashes. It was kind of chilly and not nearly as beautiful of a morning as that day in July. We were both pretty quiet, but we sat there talking about her for a while.

I hate seeing my husband cry. It always makes me feel like I've let him down in some way. Then again, I'm glad he's not one of those men who are afraid to cry or show emotion. I always know where Hunter stands.

Anyway, before we left the beach I wrote Ada's name in the sand. We both stood there watching it, waiting for the waves to wash it away. It seemed to take forever, and I was almost wondering if it wouldn't happen. Then, out of nowhere, a wave came up and, as Hunter said, "Just like that, it's gone. Sounds familiar."

Now, today of all days, I have to get ready for my 3 month checkup at my OB. I just really hope there are no very pregnant women in the waiting room.

Tagged

Tamara (Jenna's mom) tagged me so I have to list seven weird things about myself. Hmmm.

1. I have moved a lot. I've lived in 4 countries and 6 states. When I went off to college I had moved 12 times. Hunter and I bought our first house last summer and I will be quite happy to never move again.

2. I can get obsessive. For example, I LOVE the tv show Gilmore Girls. I have all 7 seasons on DVD and I have watched every episode multiple times. When the shows were still on the air I would go to forums and read everybody's opinions on the shows and any spoilers I could find. I've even been to the set of the show in L.A. I've been obsessive about other things (like or Harry Potter or Heroes or now the Twilight series), but Gilmore Girls takes the cake.

3. I'm a planner. I don't think that's so strange, but other people do. What's so crazy about making your Christmas plans in July? :)

4. I don't have a tv on the first floor of my house. Again, I don't think this is so strange, but others do. (I should add that our bedroom is on the first floor.) We have one in the den upstairs but we rarely watch it. Despite the whole Gilmore Girls mania, I really don't watch tv that often. At least, I don't ever waste time by mindlessly flipping channels. Instead I waste my time on the internet.

5. Despite the fact that I'm from South Carolina (moreso than anywhere else), I hate peaches. SC actually produces even more peaches than GA which makes this so ironic. The only thing nastier than peaches are canned peaches. *shudder*

6. I loooooooooooove to travel. In the nearly 6 years we've been married, Hunter and I have gone to Mexico, Niagara Falls, Mammoth Cave, Washington, D.C., Miami (we didn't live in FL then either), L.A., a big trip to 6 national parks out west, a cruise to Key West and Cozumel (I discovered I'm not a fan of cruises, at least not the being waited on hand and foot part), Puerto Rico, and numerous camping trips. We're going to Costa Rica in December. I'm very good at finding bargains like $24 roundtrip tickets to Puerto Rico. My ideal vacation is a trip to somewhere I've never been before that includes history or beautiful scenery. I would never choose relaxing on the beach or a trip to Disney World. (Ironic, yes, considering where I live.)

7. I met my husband when I was only 17 - I've known him for one third of my life. I don't mean to sound cheesy, but he is definitely my best friend.

I tag Holly P, Jen, Jenni, and Shelley...and anybody else that wants to do this.

Escape

This weekend, I escaped from reality. I read two novels - something like 1050 pages - in a day and a half. They're the first two books in the Twilight series, and they are so good! I can really get absorbed by a good book, movie, or even a tv show (Lost, Heroes...) and when I finish I have to snap out of it. (I bought the 6th Harry Potter book at midnight and finished it by about 8:00 pm the next day. I did sleep somewhere in there too.) These books were so good that I almost completely forgot to be sad for a few days. It was fun.

Still, there were a few parts that made me stop and think about my own life for a few minutes. In the first book there is a character who has adopted some children and she talks about how she lost a baby herself when it was only a few days old so she really has that "maternal instinct." I know that feeling. I could really relate to the main character in the second book. I don't want to give away too much in case you plan to read these books, but a major part of the story in that book is a girl missing the boy that she loves. Sometimes I felt likes I was reading about myself:

I wondered how long this could last. Maybe someday, years from now - if the pain would just decrease to the point where I could bear it - I would be able to look back on those few short months that would always be the best of my life. ... But what if this hole never got any better? If the raw edges never healed? If the damage was permanent and irreversible? ... I was changed, my insides altered almost past the point of recognition.

I was like a lost moon—my planet destroyed in some cataclysmic, disaster-movie scenario of desolation—that continued, nevertheless, to circle in a tight little orbit around the empty space left behind, ignoring the laws of gravity.

Before you, ..., my life was like a moonless night. Very dark, but there were stars--points of light and reason....And then you shot across my sky like a meteor. Suddenly everything was on fire; there was brilliancy, there was beauty. When you were gone, when the meteor had fallen over the horizon, everything went black. Nothing had changed, but my eyes were blinded by the light. I couldn't see the stars anymore. And there was no more reason for anything.

I don't feel quite that dramatic, but I can relate. Anyway, I enjoyed my weekend for the most part. There were two hard moments today though.

I realized that Ada's due date is only 3 days from now. I thought to myself, "In 3 days this nightmare will all be over." What I meant was that I will be past the very painful reminders. Then I started to cry, because I don't want it to be over!! I want to deliver a baby this week! And of course, I also know that it will not be "over" on Wednesday...this will never be over.

Then tonight there was a chili cook-off at church to raise money for the church preschool. A lady who works at the preschool but doesn't attend our church saw me for the first time since late June. She smiled when she saw me and asked, "So, how's the baby?" I always dread responding to something like that, mainly because I don't want to make the person feel bad. When I told her, her reaction was a pretty simple, "Oh, I'm sorry." She really didn't seem too upset. I have no idea what I was expecting though. Anyway, it was nice that somebody actually remembered that I am supposed to have a baby. Oh yeah, and also at the cook-off there was a man walking around holding his baby girl - she was probably about 6 months old. I got a little misty eyed because it made me think about how I will never get to see Hunter with our baby girl. I think he will make such a good dad.

I love my students

If you haven't read my previous post, you should read that first.

So today we celebrated el Dia de los Muertos. I brought in pictures of my grandparents and talked about them first, and then I told the kids that talking about my grandparents doesn't really make me very sad since they all died years ago. I miss them, but I'm not terribly sad. Then I told them about Ada and how talking about her is very sad for me because it's so recent and, well, she's my daughter. In every class you could have heard a pin drop when I was talking - and if you know 7th and 8th graders you know how rare that is! I heard lots of "awww"'s and I could tell by their faces that they really cared. I showed them the blanket and told them how we already knew it was a girl and that we named her Ada Elizabeth. I told them it was the blanket that I used to hold her. I told them that Wednesday is my due date and that today probably would have been my last day with them for a couple of months. The kids today were all so sweet.

My last class is my favorite. There are 28 kids, and 22 of them are girls. Sometimes they can be a little chatty, but for the most part they are really good kids. I think some of them were even crying today when I talked about Ada. After I talked I let other kids come up and share about a loved one they're remembering today, and in that class at least 10 kids got up to talk. (I only had a handful in the other two classes.) They have lost pets, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and teachers. Several of them cried as they talked, and then they would hug each other. When they were all done the room was really somber, so I got back up and said, "Okay, this is a happy holiday!" and they all laughed. I told them that as they did the different crafts that they should talk to each other about the fun times they had with the people (or pets) who died...and they actually did that! I heard some really great conversations.

I was so happy because rather than teaching my kids, "Here's what they do in Mexico," they actually got to experience the holiday in that culture. That's exactly what foreign language teachers should do. Anyway, I'm also happy because now my students know about this important part of my life. I felt like I was lying to them on the first day of school when I said that I didn't have any kids.

I had two different girls come up and talk to me. This first one broke my heart - she said, "I can kind of relate to your story about your baby." She went on to say that her mom had a baby last year (and here I am waiting for her to say that the baby died), but her mom put the baby up for adoption because the mom is an addict and wanted to use the money for drugs. WOW. Poor kid. She doesn't live with her mother, but somewhere out there she has a little baby brother she'll never get to know. The other girl was so sweet. As the whole class was leaving for lunch, she came over to me and all she said was, "I'm so sorry to hear about your baby." It meant so much to me to hear those words. Not all 8th graders are completely self-absorbed.

El Dia de los Muertos

I am a junior high school Spanish teacher, and one of my favorite things that I teach about all year is the Day of the Dead. It's nice sometimes to take a break from the vocabulary and grammar and just talk about the culture in places where Spanish is spoken. If you don't know much about it, the Day of the Dead (or really days of the dead) is celebrated in Mexico every year on November 1 & 2. It's an ancient Aztec tradition that was merged with Catholic beliefs when the Spanish conquered Mexico. That's why it's on Nov. 1 - All Saints' Day. Anyway, the spirit of the holiday is not sad or scary, but rather it's festive and the Mexicans mock death. They say that they are not afraid of death because they believe in life after death. (The Aztecs believed in this too, but of course it wasn't exactly the same as what Catholic Mexicans believe in today.)

Today I talked some about what the Day of the Dead is all about, and then I showed this really great 25 minute video. I hardly ever show videos, but this one is totally worth it. You see families gathered around their loved ones' graves, eating their favorite foods, reciting poems or scripture, and singing songs. There are even people selling cotton candy and peanuts in the cemetery. Children set off fireworks. There are parades and costumes. Literally, everything stops for two days and everybody spends the time with their families, celebrating and remembering the dead.

November 1 is the day to celebrate the lives of children who have died. Last year when I first saw this video and heard it phrased that way, I thought it was a little weird. Why have a special day for children? But now I understand. I would love it if my whole community stopped working for two days and spent the time telling stories about loved ones who have passed away. I could have a day every year to tell people about Ada. Family really is the top priority for people in Mexico.

Tomorrow we are going to celebrate the Day of the Dead in my classroom. I've invited my students to bring in pictures of loved ones who have passed away or an item that reminds them of the person. I am going to take in pictures of my 3 deceased grandparents, but I also plan to take Ada's blanket. I want to tell my students about her, but only if I can do it in a happy way. If I feel like I'm going to get too emotional, I just won't do it. I think it would really help them understand the holiday. We're going to put all of the items on a table and then decorate the table with crafts that they make, just like they do in Mexico.

One interesting thing today is that I asked my students if any of them have traditions in their families to remember loved ones who have passed away. Two girls in the same class said that on their grandmothers' birthdays, they go eat at her favorite restaurant and order her favorite meal. Another girl said that on her grandmother's birthday they make a cake and tell stories about her. I thought these stories were so neat, and I want to have a tradition for Ada. I think at sunrise on her birthday I will always visit the beach where we scattered her ashes. We're also going to do that on Wednesday, her due date. I can't believe it's only 6 days away.

Hunter wanted Ada to be born on Halloween, but I was hoping for election day or (my second choice) one of the Days of the Dead. I had no idea I would be remembering her on the Day of the Dead instead...

Nope

I am definitely not pregnant. Oh well, maybe next month...

Anger

So far, I haven't really felt anger. But lately - I mean, today - I am extremely irritable.

I am angry because I really thought I was pregnant again but now I'm pretty sure I'm not. I even stupidly took a pregnancy test yesterday even though I knew it was probably too early and of course, it was negative.

I am angry because I saw a picture today of a friend who is very pregnant and due around the same time as I was. That should be ME. I have nothing against her, but it should be me, too.

I am angry because all I have to look at is my one picture of Ada. ONE picture. That's all I get. I stared at her picture for a long time today and cried and cried for like an hour. I even got her blanket back out of her box so that I could hold it close. I can't even describe how much I wish she were wrapped up inside of it.

I am angry because I will never get to hold Ada again. Okay, maybe I will in heaven (I don't pretend to know how that works though), but that's not much comfort at the moment.

I am angry because I lost my only daughter. What if I never have another girl?

I am angry because I feel guilty about that last statement. I know I would love a boy as much as a girl and I would be thrilled just to have a healthy baby, but I can't help it. I was so excited to be having a girl!

I am angry because I am tired of hearing everybody who lost their babies describe them as "angels." I'm sorry, but your baby is not an angel. We do not become angels when we die. Angels are spiritual beings that God created separate from man. (This site has some good explanations.) Didn't anybody pay attention in Sunday school? People just tell themselves whatever they want to make themselves feel better.

I am angry because I have lost my passion for teaching. I hope it comes back.

I am angry because this week I am teaching about the Day of the Dead, one of favorite topics to teach about, and this year I'm afraid I'm going to cry in front of my students when I tell them how it's a happy holiday in Mexico to remember loved ones who have passed on. Why don't we have a day like that every year where we all stop everything and remember?

I am angry because I feel like I have nothing left to give anyone. I rarely call or email friends anymore because it's too much effort. I'm just not proud of who I am right now.

I am angry because people who love me ask me how I am doing and I don't even know how to respond.

I am angry because I look at this wonderful picture taken of Hunter and I this summer and I see how happy we were. I am angry because I know that I will never, ever feel that way again. I might be happy again, yes, but I will never have my innocence back and I will never get over the loss of my firstborn.

So, yay for me because apparently I'm on to the next stage of grief. Or maybe it's just PMS...and that possibility makes me angry.

Flowers for Ada

At our church every week somebody sponsors the flowers. You don't pick out the flowers or anything, but you pay for them and then in the bulletin it says who gave the flowers. They're almost always given in memory of somebody or to celebrate a birthday or anniversary. Today we gave the flowers at church in memory of Ada. I wanted next Sunday because it was the one before her due date, but somebody had already signed up for that week. This week was appropriate though, because it's All Saints' Sunday. It was so nice to see Ada's name in print somewhere other than the program for her memorial service.

I was happy that the flowers were so beautiful! I had to laugh when I saw that they were orange and purple (with a few sunflowers mixed in) because those are Clemson's colors where my husband and I both went to college and where we met.

Whoever pays for the flowers gets to take them home, although a lot of the time I think they're passed on to homebound church members. We could have done that, but I really wanted them. I know that might sound selfish of me and if I had given the flowers for any other reason I would probably have passed them on to somebody else, but this is one of the few things I will ever have for Ada and I wanted them for myself. They really brighten up our home just like all of the flowers we got right after we lost her.

Book recommendation

I just got Empty Cradle, Broken Heart by Deborah L. Davis from the library and I wish I had read this book a couple of months ago. It is wonderful and I highly recommend it for those of you who have lost your babies. I wish that everybody who knows me would read this book. Since I realize that's unreasonable to ask, here are a few excerpts for my friends and family who care enough to read this blog:

Unfortunately, many friends and relatives do not recognize the depth of your loss. It is difficult for them to imagine your grief over a baby you never saw or perhaps held only briefly. Even if your baby died later on in infancy, you may feel as though you are expected to grieve minimally and be "back to normal" after the first few weeks or months have passed. Add to this the fact that death is an uncomfortable topic to discuss, and you may begin to feel isolated, unwelcome to talk and share your feelings. Because your grief is ignored or considered unnatural, you may wonder if your baby and the events surrounding his or her life and death are insignificant. Moreover, friends and relatives may have never seen the baby, so you have even fewer memories to share with others. These feelings of isolation, being the only one who knew the baby or the only one who cares, can make grieving very painful. p. 6

Memories are important for the bereaved. Dwelling on memories is a way to experience a more gradual goodbye. Unfortunately, when your baby dies before or shortly after birth, you have only a few memories and it is unclear how this baby fit into your life. Your baby is gone, and you have little tangible evidence that he or she really existed. p. 6

While the death of a parent or friend represents a loss of your past, when your baby dies you lose a part of your future. You grieve not only for your baby, but for your parenthood. p. 5

Although many people expect grieving parents to recover and "get back to normal" within a few weeks or months, grief appears to be an open-ended process of recovery with no tangible ending. Parents gradually regain steady functioning, but many report that "back to normal" can take several years. Some parents feel that "back to normal" is an unrealistic goal, that this experience has changed them forever. p. 10

Resolution takes time. Of the mothers [interviewed] in this book, most needed more than four years to feel resolved. Some mothers needed less time, some mothers needed more. Some mothers still do not consider themselves resolved. p. 19

My reaction: Four years??? Really? Please tell me I'm not going to feel like this for four years.

After the first weeks or months following your baby's death, you may feel isolated from friends and family. You may notice that the initial rush of support from others subside. People seem to expect you to be back to normal... Ironically, as the first few months pass, your numbness wears off and you really start grappling with difficult feelings, such as anger and despair. Many mothers report that the third or fourth month is the most difficult, and yet people aren't as supportive when they need it most. You may feel that you are grieving alone, that on one else misses your baby the way you do, that no one cares but you. p. 41

I agree, the third month was the most difficult. Practically half of my posts on this blog were during the third month. (I'm now in the 4th month, if you were wondering.)

I need to preface this next quote by saying that I have not for one minute felt suicidal, but reading this made me cry because I can understand where this mother's coming from: I knew exactly where the gun was and I was wondering how I could do it... Then I would think, "No, I can't do that. I would really hurt a lot of people." And then I'd think, "No, I wouldn't, they would just go on with their lives just like they did after Jessica died." p. 43

I just read back over all of the quotes I posted, and after reading them you're probably feeling sad and maybe sorry for me or concerned about me. Reading this book doesn't make me feel down though - it just makes me feel like, "Wow, I'm not the only one who has gone through this before. My feelings are normal." In fact, it makes me feel better. I realize that it might take a while, but I will come through this. I've been feeling more positive lately, but as this book reminds me, grief is not linear and it comes and goes for a long time. Just don't think I'm crazy for thinking about Ada every hour of every day. I'm a mother and that's what I'm supposed to do.

Jesus wept

I have been seeing a Christian counselor for the last couple of weeks. I have never been to a counselor before, but I thought it would probably be a good idea to talk through my grief. Last week was pretty much a get to know you session, but yesterday I went again and it was helpful. There are several points that came up, and I mainly want to write them down so I don't forget.

In my mind, Ada is perfect. She never did anything wrong and I can't imagine her ever doing anything wrong. I'm afraid I will compare my future children to her. Well, the counselor basically said, "So what?" So what if when my child acts up I think, "I bet Ada wouldn't do that"? As human beings we make comparisons all the time. He asked me if I had ever dated anybody before Hunter, which I did, and asked if I ever had a fleeting thought that I wish Hunter would be better at doing (fill in the blank) like "Fred" was. Well sure, I wish Hunter gave more compliments like one or two guys I dated. Then the counselor pointed out, this doesn't mean that I wish I was married to "Fred" (no!), and it doesn't make me a bad wife. In the same way, I will not be a bad mother to a future child if I have thoughts about Ada. It will not impact my ability to love and cherish that child for who s/he is.

Another point that the counselor brought up is how I'm handling grief. He has observed that I'm a logical person and I think things through. He said he's sure that I know that there are 5 stages of grief, and that I'm subconsciously checking off each stage as I go through it. I laughed, because there's no "subconcious" about it - I'm very aware of each stage as I go through it. He reminded me that grief is something that we walk through and that we have no control over. It's not something we run though. It's kind of like what I mentioned in a recent post, how when we first lost Ada I thought surely I would be through the grief process and be on with my life in 6 months. I wanted to set some sort of arbitrary time limit for myself. That's not how it works though; we don't run through grief, we walk through it.

God has been very absent to me. I know abstractly that God cares about me, loves me, and even is sad for me that we lost Ada. Last night the counselor and I talked for a while about the story of Lazarus and how Jesus' first reaction when he heard Lazarus had died was to weep. For some reason, this story was exactly what I need to hear. I grew up in church so of course I know the story well, but I had not thought about it since we lost Ada. Martha's sentiments are pretty much mine exactly. I feel like if God had been present, Ada would not have died; therefore, God must have been absent. How does Jesus respond to Martha's accusations? He weeps. He doesn't explain himself to her, but he weeps for her and with her. The most touching thing that anybody has done for me since Ada died is to cry for me. I have a number of friends and family members who have told me they've cried for Ada and for me, and that's all I need to hear. I know everybody worries about what to say to me, but crying is enough because it shows you care. Anyway, last night I got this very concrete image of Jesus crying for Ada, and that was what I needed. Someday I hope to understand it all better too, but all I really need to know right now is that God cares.

Hearing a baby's cry

I debated on whether or not I should write this post because I know that my friend reads this blog pretty regularly and I don't want to upset her in any way. But Emily, I think we've talked enough that you understand where I'm coming from...

My friend Emily had her baby today. Her husband called me soon afterwards to say that the baby had arrived and that everything went well. The baby's name is Brian Alexander and he was pretty big at 8 lb, 3.5 oz. Soon before we hung up, I heard Brian crying in the background in that cute loud squawking way that newborns cry.

That was really hard for me. I could imagine Emily holding her new baby just like I held Ada. I can picture the hospital and all of the little details of the hospital room. The only difference? Her baby is crying. Her baby is not lying there still, with no breath. Her baby is more than 4 times the size that Ada was. Ada was due two weeks from tomorrow, but I won't get to hear her cry. I will never hear her cry. Right now we should be getting all of the final preparations ready, but there's nothing to do but cry myself.

I thought I might go visit Emily in the hospital, but I'm not sure if I can handle that. Fortunately she's in a different hospital, but I still think it might bring back too many memories for me. I've held new babies since I lost Ada and they made me feel joy rather than pain, but I think this might be different because Emily and I found out we were pregnant within about 4 days of each other. I'm worried that whenever I see Brian I'm going to think about how big Ada should be. Then again, seeing Emily get bigger and bigger never really bothered me, so why should this? I'm sure that when I see Brian's cute little face and fingers and toes I will smile and enjoy holding a precious new baby boy. I am so glad he arrived safely! I will never take that for granted like I used to.

On another note, we are providing the flowers at church this Sunday in Ada's memory. The church secretary called and asked me what to write. I said to write that the flowers are in memory of Ada Elizabeth and that her due date was November 5, 2008. The secretary got really quiet after I said that. I cried a little when I hung up the phone, but I am looking forward to seeing Ada's name in the bulletin this Sunday. I also kind of hope it will be a reminder to the people in our church that we have not forgotten about her and that we're not "over it." Nobody ever mentions her anymore.

Good Days

I always think to post when I am having a bad day or when something makes me sad. I thought I should put up a positive post here for all of you who are wondering how I am. I really do feel better. I still have my sad moments, like last night when I saw a family picture taken while I was pregnant. That made me cry, but only for a little while. Hunter was there and he is so great at talking to me and listening to me when I am upset. But besides that one little time, I really have not cried or been sad for about 3 or 4 days. I think that's pretty good! I think about Ada and I miss her all the time, but anybody who has lost a loved one can tell you that it does get easier with time. Hunter and I had a great weekend of doing nothing besides going on a couple of walks, eating some good food, and watching several movies. Yesterday was his birthday and that's what he wanted to do. We've just really enjoyed each other's company.

Denial

I always knew that denial is one of the early stages of grief. About a week after Ada died, I thought that I had not gone through that stage, but my mom pointed out that I was in it when we first went to get the ultrasound. I had not felt Ada move in a while, but I was sure that there was some explanation besides the obvious. When Hunter and I went for the ultrasound at 11:30 that morning, I suggested that he take his car too so he could go on to work since it was close by. Fortunately for me, he had already come to terms with reality. When the technician first told me the horrible news, I turned to him in shock but I realized that he already knew.

So until last night, I thought that was my denial stage - I thought it lasted less than 24 hours. I was reading about grief last night though, and I came across this quote: "Denial usually involves either the facts of the loss, the significance of the loss to the survivor, or the irreversibility of the loss." When we first lost Ada, I was devastated. I never, never had been that low or anywhere close. Even so, I remember reading another lady's blog who had lost her baby about 6 months earlier. I couldn't believe that she was still keeping a blog after 6 months and that she had over 100 posts. I thought that was unhealthy. I thought that I would be moved on in 6 months. I knew I would still miss Ada, of course, but I didn't think I would still dwell on it so much. Now, I do believe that I will be in much less pain - I already am - but I realize now that this is a loss that never goes away. I was in denial about how much this loss would affect me. Now I also realize that it took a while for reality to sink in that Ada was gone. When I picked up her ashes from the funeral home I cried and cried because I knew that meant I would never hold her again. All I kept thinking to myself was that I would never hold her or see her again. I think that was my way of coming to terms with the reality of my loss.

I know this post is kind of random since all of this happened a while ago, but it's interesting now to look backwards and see what stages I have gone though.

3 Months

I met my Ada 3 months ago from today. I'm not particularly sad today though; it's actually been a pretty good day. My sad days are fewer and farther between. Still, I can't help but think that if Ada had lived, I would be preparing for her arrival any time now. I would have officially been full term yesterday. I would have my suitcase packed and everything ready to go. (If you know me well, you know how true that statement is!)

Today I got a package of formula samples and more junk mail from the funeral home trying to get us to make our own funeral arrangements. The more junk mail I get from them, the less I appreciate what they did for us. I also got a really nice pink/blue ribbon pin from my college friend who lost her sweet Elliana when she was 27 days old. I really appreciate the pin and I was glad to get something uplifting with all of the other junk.

I might be pregnant, but I won't know for over a week. It's going to be a long week! Last time we didn't even tell our own mothers until I was in the second trimester; this time, I guess everybody's going to know right away, whenever it happens!

Remembering Ada

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I bought a bunch of ribbon and made over 60 of them. I sent them to my family and a few close friends, and I was so happy to hear how many people wore them today. My sister even sent me a picture of her and her friend wearing their ribbons - it was such a nice gesture.

I also sent an email to the faculty and staff at my school. They know the basics of what happened, and I also included some statistics on miscarriages, stillbirth, and infant death. Then I left a bunch of ribbons by the mailboxes this morning and I was touched by how many other teachers were wearing those ribbons today. It meant so much to see my colleagues remembering Ada too. I am not alone at my school though. A few people told me of their own losses right after I came back, and today several teachers emailed or told me about their own losses. One had 3 miscarriages; another had a miscarriage almost exactly one year ago. I think they really appreciated that someone was calling attention to their own pain too.

Tonight I was at church at 7:00, but I asked Hunter to light Ada's candle then for the wave of light. Then later, we blew it out together. Hunter's not very into symbols, but he told me that lighting the candle did mean something to him and it did help him remember Ada. The candle is the same white pillar candle that burned at her memorial service. I've burned it a few other times since then, but I don't want it to run out! I hope I can still have it lit on her due date, Thanksgiving, and Christmas. It will be like she is with us for the holidays.

Thank you to all of you who remembered Ada today. I thought today would be a sad day for me, but instead it has been rather uplifting. I am thankful that this day was created for everybody to come together and remember. So, let's remember them all...

Ada Elizabeth
Cameron David
Jenna
Gregory
Brenna
Timothy James
Malou Amelia
William Richard
Elliana Mae
Lily Angeline
Georgia Louise
Tyler
My older brother or sister
My little cousin
R&L's 2 babies
C&L's baby
J&A's baby
All of the other babies that we loved and miss

If I don't have your baby's middle name, just leave a comment and I'll update it.

Another quote

"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives means the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing... not healing, not curing... that is a friend who cares."

-Henri Nouwen

Pain

Today has been a little bit hard. I had another baby shower for my friend, and again that was surprisingly not sad. This is the one I thought would be hard for me because she and I work together and this was the work shower - I had assumed we would have a joint shower for our babies. Thankfully she is having a boy, so all of the cute boy stuff didn't make me sad for Ada.

The only hard part at the shower is that two other teachers at our school are also pregnant and they were there too. I'm not very close to either of them, and one of them I barely even know because she's new this year. The one that I do know has had two miscarriages, both around 3 months, so I know she has at least some idea of the pain I'm going through. She has been nothing but nice to me, but today when I found out she's at 24 weeks it felt like a punch in the gut. I just can't explain it. She was telling somebody else how they found out it's a boy and that they have a couple of names picked out. Of course I'm happy for her, and of course I want everything to go well, but I just wanted to tell everybody, "Oh, 24 weeks, that's how far I made it before MY BABY DIED. We had just found out the sex and picked out a name too." I'm not jealous, I'm not angry, and I wouldn't even say that I'm sad. I just feel pain. It's this indescribable pain. And I feel very alone, like nobody else has ever been through what I have been though, but of course as you can see from the links on the right, there are plenty of people who have felt my pain.

So today when I got home I cried. A lot. It's probably the most I've cried in a while. I took out some things from Ada's box and I decided to finally finish her baby book. Of course, I didn't fill it up or anything (first bath? first night at home?), but I did put in some information about when she was born. I also pasted one of the copies of her picture in there. I was proud of it when I was done. Someday I will show it to her brothers and sisters.

On an unrelated note, tonight I was watching last night's episode of Brothers & Sisters. If you're not familiar with the show, Justin is one of the characters and he fought in Iraq. On last night's episode he was upset because this man was thanking him for saving his life, but all Justin could think about was how his best friend had died in that same explosion. There's more to the story, but anyway he was so upset about it until his girlfriend asked about what his friend who was killed was like. Justin's face lit up and he talked about what the friend looked like and started telling some stories about the guy. I understood that feeling. I light up a little bit inside when people ask me about Ada. It's not the same because I don't have any fun memories with her, but it keeps her alive. It takes away some of the pain.

Quote

"Listen to your life. Listen to what happens to you because it is through what happens to you that God speaks...It's in language that's not always easy to decipher, but it's there powerfully, memorably, unforgettably."

- Frederick Buechner

I came across this quote tonight as I was reading The Heart of Christianity by Marcus Borg (a great book!) and of course it made me stop and think. What is God telling me through my experience with losing Ada? I will be pondering this one for a while.

Expressing my grief

Today was a day that I've been a little worried about for a while, but it actually wasn't too bad. First of all, there's a lady in my church who had her baby this week. I knew that she was due on Tuesday and I figured she would probably have the baby sometime this week, but I had forgotten about it. This morning though, there was a pink rose on the pulpit. They didn't know the sex of the baby and they hadn't announced the name choices to anybody, so it was exciting to hear that it was a girl and that her name is Jillian. Well, it was mostly exciting. Of course, it was also sad, because there should be a pink rose up there in a few weeks for Ada. Ada and Jillian would have grown up in church together and been good friends. So this morning, the rose caught me a little off guard. I was happy for my friend, but sad for myself. I teared up a little bit, but I was okay. We are doing the flowers in a few weeks in memory of Ada and her upcoming due date. It will be good to see her name in the bulletin.

The other thing today was that I went to my good friend's baby shower. I was the very first person to find out that she was pregnant, and it was only 4 or 5 days later that I found out that I was pregnant myself. I was with her this summer when she found out she's having a boy, and we work together so I see her almost every day. I know this surprises everybody (including her), but it really is not hard for me to be around her. When I see a pregnant stranger it makes me sad because all I see is their belly, but she's my friend and I knew her before she was pregnant, so to me she is a good friend who happens to be pregnant. Still, occasionally there are reminders. Today we had a small baby shower at a friend's house, and I decided to go. There were only 5 of us there and they all know about Ada, so I was fine. I actually don't think I was sad even for a moment at the shower - I honestly just enjoyed the time with my friends. I had prepared myself though...before I left I got out Ada's box, looked at her picture, held her blanket, and let myself cry. I knew that by doing that ahead of time I would be fine later. Is that weird? It's like I programmed "sad time" for myself. I know myself well though, and I knew if I didn't do that then I would not enjoy the shower or be capable of being happy for my friend. After all, I had always imagined that we would have a joint shower.

Emily (my friend who is pregnant) and I carpooled to the shower. On the way home she was telling me that she reads my blog and the other blogs I have links to and we were talking some about Ada. She told me that sometimes it seems like I am private about my grief. She said my posts on here sound like I've thought them out ahead of time (which is true) and (I'm paraphrasing here) that I don't express my sentiments. I've been thinking about that for a while, and I think she's right. I don't think I know how to express my feelings, really. I mean, how do you put into words the sorrow that you feel every time you think about your baby who died? I just really don't know how. I'm going to try though.

Warning: Ramblings and incoherent thoughts ahead!

I feel empty inside sometimes. My arms feel empty and they want a baby to hold. When I was first holding Ada, I told Hunter that he needed to hold her and that it felt so good to hold her. I wish I could hold her again. I feel like there is a part of me that's missing now. I am devastated that my hopes and dreams for Ada will never come true. I feel like I let my husband down, although thankfully he does not see it that way at all. I wonder how I got so lucky to have such a wonderful husband. I feel disbelief sometimes that I even had a daughter. Seriously, did I really have a baby? Was I really in labor for 32 hours? Did I really go to the funeral home and pick up my baby's ashes in a cardboard box? That seems so unreal. I am extremely thankful that I got to meet and hold my beautiful baby Ada. I feel like God is absent. I don't know how or what to pray. But then again, I have a sense of peace that I don't think I would feel if I didn't have faith in God. I am hopeful for more children, yet right now I can't imagine the excitement that I'm sure I will feel when I know I am pregnant again. I feel isolated sometimes and I just wish everybody knew what I have been though. I am mad that I was robbed of my life with Ada. I am terrified that this might happen again. I have no idea what to say when people who care about me ask how I'm doing today. I think about her every day. I hate the fact that her tiny little fingers will never close around mine with that sweet little baby reflex. Most of all, I just miss my daughter. Yet, I AM doing better. Life is getting easier. I am hopeful.