Life Jackets

11:45am The Tsunami hits (Click here if you have no idea what I am talking about)

The aftermath:

12:30pm Friend post picture of her darling baby wrapped in an elephant blanket on Facebook. Every time I see an elephant I feel like Claudie is saying hi.

2:20pm  My new dear friend who has also lost her precious child and I are discussing her son's turning 10 months and Claudette turning 3 months this week. She is my rock and I can just pick up my phone and FB her anytime I need to vent and I hope she feels she can do the same for me.  As we are FB chatting the doorbell rings. UPS was dropping off the garden stake we ordered weeks ago for her grave until we afford an actual headstone.

It's not perfect but it will have to do. After you loose a baby you find that everything out there is either super cheesy or super expensive. I have yet to find the perfect memorial to her and not sure I ever will. My dad read her this prayer as he held her for the first and last time and it means so much to me now.

4:00pm ON THE DOT The snow starts hitting as predicted. Round two of snowmageddon 2013. I was starting to get anxious for Dustin to get home, less b/c of the storm (he has 4WD) and more because I need a big ole bear hug from him.

5:42pm Dustin arrives home mail in hand. After said bear hug he hands me the mail. The newest copy of New Horizons was in the pile. I am immediately was struck by the title of issue:

 1743 (Ok I am guessing on the time, but it within seconds later) I open the book to check out the article and instead turn to this:

It is the story of Emily Sarah Tracey. A daughter of an Orthodox Presbyterian minister that was born stillborn many years ago. It was articulate and profound and insightful. Honestly, a bit surprising coming from a minister on what is considered a "woman's subject". But it is not a woman's subject. He had been profoundly hurt and moved by his' daughter's life and death, such that even though it happened in 1987 he was grieving and will for the rest of his days.

The last paragraph of the article stands out to me:

"Above all else, I have learned there is grace to help in the time of need. In childlessness, miscarriage, stillbirth, living with children's with disability, or anything else in life or in death, God's grace is sufficient," Stephen J. Tracey

6:15pm Dustin and I eat dinner and can't stop talking about how unusual it was for New Horizons a magazine for issues affecting the Orthodox Presbyterian Church to have an issue on infertility, let alone on article on a STILLBORN DAUGHTER!

7:20pm Start putting kids to bed.

7:45pm Still putting kids to bed.

8:20pm One of said kids fake a need for a bathroom visit.

8:30pm Look for movie on the TV. Can't find anything great so settle on The Words. All I know is it has Bradley Cooper in it, so I am game. Dustin is less thrilled. Movie starts.

8:41pm One of other said kids fake the need for a drink.

Around 9pm Upstairs is quiet and we are watching the movie. Basically, it is about a man who steals a story and writes it as his own. The man whom he steals the story from had a baby daughter that dies.Dustin and I are of course touched by his grief and start thinking what are we watching.

A few moments later The movie shows the book the man writes about loosing his daughter...Claudette shivers...Claudette cries. THOSE WERE THE WORDS ON THE PAGE!! Was his daughter's name Claudette?? I am not completely sure to be honest. The movie was poorly written (which is ironic since it is about a literary genius), but there is no denying the book he writes has the name Claudette all over it. Dustin and I are speechless. What is going on? What is someone trying to tell us? What lesson are we supposed to learn her? I mean first the elephant picture. Okay, I get it elephants are a common baby theme. Then the plaque came in good timing. I needed that after the horrible morning I had. Then the magazine. Things were starting to get weird. Even Dustin admitted it was odd timing. But the movie too?? I mean a movie about a baby girl dying possibly with the name Claudette?? I mean the name Claudette isn't exactly as common as Katie. I only know of four of them...one of which is a celebrity.

Tonight 9:04pm  (Now) I still don't get it. I don't really know what all those little or big things meant or mean. But I am pretty sure they mean something. Perhaps, the something is that God keeps throwing me life jackets in the midst of the tsunami.

Return to Zero

I was so excited to learn of an upcoming movie that will tell the real not just the "reel" story as director Sean Hanish puts it of the aftermath of stillborn loss. I was shocked to read recently in an article from the NYT "Breaking the Silence" that while 2,500 babies die a year from SIDS, 26,000 die annually from stillborn loss. How many of us as moms know to put our newborn to sleep on their backs to prevent SIDS? Yet, there are still so many who don't even know that babies can die in this country so close or during the birthing process. What a huge health disparity. As a nurse, I know knowledge is power in order to prevent future death and injury. But I had no clue that 1 in 160 pregnancies ends loss after 20 weeks. Statistically speaking that means you will be affected by a stillborn loss, more directly put...

 you will know someone or be someone that loses a child.

I personally have a hard time with the word stillborn (see my post "Words/Phrases that Drive Me Nuts"). Although I feel the word takes away from the humanity of the child a bit, I also realize it is an important term we must educate ourselves on and empower ourselves and our healthcare providers against. I have yet to speak to an OB who hasn't had this happen to one of their patients, so why don 't we hear about how to decrease the risk and increase the knowledge?

I feel like it has to do with the age of the child. For some reason, we value life based on how old a person is. Anyone who has had a miscarriage or lost a grandparent has heard these questions:

How far along where you?  I found myself not wanting to answer this question b/c people assumed I couldn't be attached if it was only 10 weeks.

How old was he? Oh my granddad was 82 when he died. I guess since he lived a long wonderful life his loss is less.

It is like death is acceptable at certain stages in life: in utero and old age. This to me points to our lack of respect of life in general. While I understand on some level the acceptance of death for our elderly, I struggle immensely with our acceptance with it in our babies. When I loss the twins at 10 weeks, one of the first things I heard was 1 in 4 babies die in the 1st trimester we just don't know why, natural selection of sorts I guess. OK?!? So it just happens all the time. I guess I will just move on then?! Then when I lost Claudette days before her due date, I was left with little to no information. I thought this must not happen often. I was wrong! There is very little real info out there on the web and textbooks on stillborn loss.

50% of parents who lose their child will not know never know why.
This is too much!

In our case, we found out why and it could have been prevented.
This is unacceptable!

That is why I am thrilled that next year Return to Zero should make it's way to theatres to educate others about the devastation that unfolds when your baby is born sleeping. And as an added bonus for me Minnie Driver, who happens to be one of my favorite actresses of all time, stars in it!

Even in these early stages of loss, Dustin and I feel a deep need to spread the word. While it is very difficult to relive the details of our that dreadful day it was also the day our daughter was born and we love to talk about her! So we beyond excited a movie will come out that will give another reason to share our beautiful Claudette with the world as her name will be in the credits!!!
Click here to see Our Story on the Return to Zero blog

Babies, Babies, Preggos, Babies and More Babies

So the whole world is either pregnant or just delivered the most delicious little babies. And why is Target having a big baby sale this week? Could they have least had the decency to have it before I spent all that money on diapers and swaddlers.

You know when you are in another state and you all of sudden notice all the MO license plates? You never notice them when you are actually in Missouri. You know why? Because you are one of 1000s of them. You don't stand out. It is when you are in Iowa and see all the IA plates that you realize you are the odd ball out. Sorry for the rough analogy but it is all I got this am. Basically, my point is the whole world seems to be pregnant and having newborns at the exact moment I'm not. When I was pregnant with my first I felt like was the only person in the world to have a baby. It all seemed so special and wonderful. But now I am sitting here with a swollen belly and an empty crib and I feel so lonely.

The other night there was a segment on the news about Kate Middleton and all the excitement surrounding her pregnancy. My husband and I just looked at each other. For some reason it dawned on us that moment no matter what happens in the future, a pregnancy will never hold that same excitement it holds for so many others. It is a hard reality. Pregnancy has always been such a fun part of the journey to baby for us. Yes, my pregnancies were often riddled with complications and trials but they were also filled with joy and anticipation that is unparalleled. Now our new reality is that fear will most likely be greater than is healthy. It seems so lonely at times but then all of sudden you are driving along in IA and you see that MO plate and it reminds you there are others (too many others) and even though we are not in the same car at least we are on the same road.

Answers (Part 2)

First off, I want to say a very heartfelt thank you for all the prayers regarding yesterday's appointment. They of course were answered. The perinatologist answered ALL of our questions; most before we even got the chance to ask them. The answers were not all exactly want we wanted however.

She immediately started the appointment by saying, "this is why your daughter died." While this may sound strange we desperately wanted and needed that information to go forward so a gigantic weight was lifted immediately. I feel so sad for some many who will not get an answer.

The following information was not as easy to hear. Basically, three things can happen to babies of diabetic mothers with high blood sugars. One they can pee off that blood sugar to adapt and cause what is called polyhydramnios (high amniotic fluid). This is dangerous and can cause preterm labor if it gets out of control. I had it very badly with Henry and some with Amelie. A lot of people have questioned why we have had two healthy pregnancies and then this. The fact is I have yet to have a healthy pregnancy.

The second is an increase in blood sugar will cause a fluid accumulation in the belly causing ascites and a fatty liver. This is when we see a super large belly on a diabetic baby. Big babies run in this family, so how do you know if that is caused by the diabetes?  Basically, a big baby that is just big cuz well mommy has big babies is big everywhere (head, legs, stomach). A diabetic big baby will often have an averaged sized head and a very large belly. In other words, the proportions are off in a baby with maternal diabetes.

The third thing that can happen is that fluid can form around the heart and continue to put pressure on the heart until the heart enlarges and goes into failure, very similar to what happens to congestive heart failure patients. This is what Claudette had. The body will compensate by putting massive fluid in all two or more compartments (hydrops fetalis), hence her ascites (fluid in the belly) and pleural effusions (fluid in the lungs). This process probably happened within minutes to hours. That is why even though I had an ultrasound with a day or so of her death no one detected it. The heart  however was getting enlarged most likely around 30-36 weeks of gestation and could have been detected by a perinatologist but not usually in a biophysical profile (BPP) like I was having done.  Here is the really hard part: if interventions were immediately performed when seen, the baby would most likely have lived since the cardiomegaly would have resolved quickly after delivery. This is hard information. Claudette's death could have been prevented.

At this point I was very upset. Basically, my daughter's enlarged heart was caused by my diabetes and not only that my uncontrolled diabetes. So I asked how with this information can we possibly in good conscience conceived another child. I did not expect her answer, "you absolutely can but many things have to happen first." First, I have to see if I can get my blood sugars in control. While I realize this seems like an easy task to many, it has caused me 22 years of struggles. I have a horrible time with control, but Dustin and I are committed fully to giving it our best shot. (And NO it is not as simple as eating less carbs.)  In a way I see this as a real blessing because there is nothing that will drive a woman into a healthy lifestyle more than the goal of having a child. Frankly, I needed this push whether or not we have more children. So Dustin and I are very committed to making this happen.

We also have to change our level of screening in the next pregnancy. I will not only have twice a week BPP but I also would have CSTs twice a week wherein they would stimulate contractions to make sure the placenta is staying healthy. In other words, I would be watched VERY closely more than I already have been.

The last thing that would have to happen is the hardest: I would have to be okay with loosing another child. No of course, no one is "okay" with loosing a child, but not go into the loony bin okay. This one is a hard one not just for me but for all of my family and friends who have suffered this loss with me. In some ways I think it would actually be the least hard on me because my heart can't be broken again in the way it already was been. The chances of loosing a baby like this again will be very little because of the interventions, but having another miscarriage or the like is a real possibility. So
as Dustin and I continue on this long journey to improved health (mentally and physically), please pray that we may glorify God in this process and seek His wisdom and not our selfish desires.

Oh and HAPPY TWO MONTHS today Claudette Elyse. They say babies smile "for real" at two months old so I hope you are smiling for real at how mommy is handling life without you.

Birth Story

To think where I was mentally and physically eight weeks ago sends chills down my back. About this time my nurse Maggie was prepping my belly for delivery. As I said my tearful goodbyes to family, I knew mentally there was no turning back at this point, but emotionally I was not about to accept this reality.

A comment from my endocrinologist's nurse kept repeating itself in my mind, "maybe they were wrong. Maybe she did have a heartbeat." I said a the same desperate prayer over and over as we wheeled down the hallway, "Help them to be wrong! Lord, help them to be wrong!"

My husband was at my side as they pulled her out. I heard a CRY! I heard a CRY! "Dustin did you hear that? She CRIED," I whispered to him. "No hunny, there was no cry," he responded flatly.

"11:30" Was called out. I got excited. I started thinking that about the other kids time of birth. They all were born right about lunch time (always ready for a meal my kids). Wait...was that her time of birth or death?

Dustin rushed to her side at the scale. All I remember was seeing her perfect fat leg and foot straight up in the air as they weighed her. "11 lbs, 13 oz". Wow!! No wonder I could barely walk or stand for that matter. They told me a lot of that was her fluid overload.

Dustin picked her up and brought her to me. At this point I had no intention of even holding her. I looked at her and immediately thought back to nursing school. My first experience in pediatrics was with a mother who had found out her 3 week old had a massive brain tumor and wouldn't make it. I was the one who gave this little boy his bath and dressed him for his baptism. I was the one who held him as he was dying. I remember not understanding why the mom just rocked in the corner and wouldn't hold or touch him. I understood now.  But her story was not my story. "Give me her!" I practically yelled at Dustin.

It is a moment I can't explain. She was THERE. I had dealt with many deaths in my years as a nurse, the soul always leaves almost immediately with the last heartbeat. You can feel it, see it, sense it. This is NOT what happened with Claudie. She was as there as a screaming baby. I felt it, saw it, sensed it. I thought I was loosing my mind but everyone commented on her presence.


 

There is NOTHING in this world I have experienced like holding her. It was amazing. It was as close to God I have ever felt. We went on to spend the next several hours with her. My sisters held her. My dad and in-laws held her. My aunts held her. My sweet friends held her. No one was left untouched after holding her.

A picture of Aunt Candy (who incidentally looks the most like my mom) holding our Claudette.

For some reason at this moment I thought what I suppose any mother at this point would think. What will her siblings think of her? We had discussed it was too much their little 4 and 3 year old minds, so had decided against it. Something was pulling at my heart strings though. I kept hearing a little hazel eyed four year old excitedly expressing his wish to hold his sister. We talked about it almost everyday for the last 8 months. "I want Henry to hold her!" I blurted out.  "No sweetheart it is too much." At the exact moment my sister walked in, "Henry won't stop asking to come in here." Thank you Lord for answering the question for me. Dustin was hiding in the corner with Claudie so as not to scare him when he first walked in (her skin was sluffing by now). I pulled Henry to my side. I said, "you know your baby sister is not going home with us right?" "Yes". "Well she is here now Henry. Would you like to see her?" "Yes". Dustin turns around and the rest was beauty revealed. He took his little hand and rubbed her little head (something frankly I was afraid to do) and kissed it. "You're pretty," he said so matter of factly that it shocked me. "Do you want to hold her?" "Yes". So he did and looked at her the same as he looked at little sister Amelie when she was born. He saw her no differently. Then he said, "I want to go play with my legos now." PERFECTION.  He loved her as only a four year proud brother could.

My dear bereavement nurse, Tricia, who hadn't left my side at this point asked how we wanted it to go from here. I knew what she meant, but how was I to answer? Do I want hours more? Do I want days more? What I wanted was a lifetime more! But my nursing instincts took over my desires as a mommy. I told them to come get her at 5pm so they could take her to Children's Mercy for the autopsy.  Dustin chimed in, "can we make 5:30?" I told them to come get her at 5:30pm, no questions asked. I told them to ignore what would be said and just take her. Mommy instincts were kicking in now. I knew that I would never actually be able to say goodbye.

We asked for a moment to just be with her. So Dustin, myself and our precious baby girl attempted to do what most do after a long birthing day, nap. We did not nap. But we did not speak either. I held her curled up in my left arm. Dustin held my right hand. We just sat there. We didn't cry for fear we would waste valuable time with our daughter weeping. 

Dustin took this of me holding her as we sat quietly.

The way the hospital is angled makes for incredible views of sunsets. We learned this the week with spent with mom before she died. November 29, 2012 was no exception. We had a large labor room with a large window. The sunset hit her face in the most angelic way. I felt her body grow heavy and cold. I felt her spirit leave. It was 4:50pm. I looked at Dustin and whispered, "she's gone." He said, "I know." I gave her to Dustin and never held her again. We continued to spend the rest of time with her and gave everyone one last chance to come in and kiss her goodbye.

You can see the sun hitting her face as she laid in my arms.

5:30pm on the nose. The nurse came in with a Moses basket and took her from Dustin's hands as he screamed, "no". There were lots of screams and cries. I don't know from who or what was being said. I only remember me watching my dad and husband embracing and crying so loudly that it startled me. I lay there shaking from the hormone shifts looking around like a deer caught in headlights. I didn't know what to do. I still don't.

 

What is strange is it was such a beautiful day yet filled with such devastation. Tricia told me that someone told her to write down her memories of the day she lost her sweet Drew and throw it away. She told them no, because it was all she had. It was his birthday after all. So here we are eight weeks later, which according to all the grief literature is the worse time in terms of realization of the loss and yet I remember that day with all it's tragedy as beautiful.

Words/Phrases that Drive Me Nuts

Angel baby  The idea is amazing. I mean it implies your child has angels wings and is watching out for us. Cool, right? Yes, there is some comfort hearing this, but for some reason from the first time I heard when I lost the twins it immediately took away their humanity. It took away my ability to be their mom. I am not the mom of cherub. I am the mom of chubby baby. Angels don't wear cute little clothes and spit up all over them. Angels don't cry from 3-5pm because they are gassy. Babies do.

"God needed another angel." See above. And might I add this one really adds zero comfort.

Miscarriage  The prefix "mis" is what throws me off I think. Like I carried the baby wrong or "missed" the mark or something. It almost implies wrong doing on the mother's part.

Stillborn In a way I like this term cause it actually says they were "still" born, meaning they actually existed on this earth. In a different vein I hate it because it implies they are "still" or stiff. It congers imagines of rigor mortis. I HATE it for that reason. Probably the worse reason I don't like this term is because I think a lot of people don't really understand what it means. By the way it means a loss of pregnancy after 20 weeks.

Rainbow baby This is a new one to me. I had to google it because I kept hearing it. Basically it is the term for having another baby after loosing one. I am sorry but it just sounds dumb. I get the sentiment that like a rainbow after a storm there is hope. But not only does it sound silly in my opinion it also kind makes it sound like all is well if you just have another baby. It probably also hurts because technically my rainbow baby died.

"It happened a reason" Ok,  thanks so did my morning BM.

"It was for the best" How is my baby dying for the best? How is my mom dying for the best? Yes, yes I get it; their suffering ended. But wouldn't the best be them not suffering and living a great life with us? I don't completely mind this one though because I know it ultimately is for the best because heaven is the way better than a life here.

"You have two beautiful children." What I hear: "At least you have other kids."  Kids aren't interchangeable. I think before I had kids my desire was just to simply be a mom and didn't realize the specialness of each individual child and pregnancy and therefore the unique connection that was made at each time I saw a pink line.

"You will have another child someday." What I hear: "Someone will replace Claudette." Seriously, if you lost your mom no one would say you will have another mom someday.

"Maybe your life was spared for hers?" My personal favorite (or least favorite). I mean seriously, does any mother want to choose their life over their child's? To me it also takes away the importance of her life. I don't think anyone would say that to a parent who lost a five year old.

You are probably thinking by now, "Geesh, we are just trying to help! I am never going to talk to her again." Honestly, everything I said above (well except that comment about your life being spared for hers) is ok to say to me. The fact is I used to use and still use some of these terms and phrases. It comes from a good place when people are telling me my baby is an angel. I know this. There real reason that all this causes me pain is well because death is painful. I want my mom's life to be more important than "for a reason". I want to remember my daughters ten fingers and ten toes she did have not the angel wings she didn't. 

Ok, I feel better.


Addendum 3 months later...
Probably the words that drive me MOST nuts are:
"" Can't think of anything that has been more painful that NO WORDS! Say something for crying out loud! SAY SOMETHING! You are afraid your words will be hurtful, there is nothing more hurtful than  SILENCE! I will give you too words you can say, "I'm here."

Real Men Cry

I have been thinking a lot today about how grief effects men, namely the men in my life. I have had to lean on the men in life so much of late, all of them even the little guy who is pretending to be Fireman Sam right now.

Henry is my very thoughtful and pensive little four year old. He told us there were two babies in my belly well before we learned of the twins. He told us that Claudette was girl before I had the first ultrasound. He has always been super perceptive and with that has comes sensitivity. He much more than my daughter I have found needs hugging and reassurance. It has been really hard to see him deal with the disappointment and grief of loosing his sister. He asked me a couple of nights ago with tears in his eyes, "why do babies die before they live?" He is always asking questions like this. His sadness seems to always be at the surface.  I love his sensitivity however, because it also results in great compassion and truth be told what every mom really loves, more cuddle time with mommy. But what will happen when he is say a 32 year man?

Well if  the apple doesn't fall from the tree, then I lucked out, cause the 32 year old version of Mr. Henry is a thoughtful, kind and yes even sensitive man. No, that doesn't mean Dustin doesn't enjoy football as much as the next guy, but it does mean he isn't afraid to dare I say it...cry. For those of you who say real mean don't cry, then they haven't met my husband, because he is the real deal. I have never thought he was more manly when he was holding our precious little girl and crying, and not just tear in the corner of the eye but really bawling. I don't think I have ever loved my husband so much as that moment.

As my husband was overcome with tears, my tearful dad came over and embraced Dustin. While I joked that my support system was falling apart, I was actually so touched at the open emotions the men in my life show. They didn't try to stay strong for me and keep it all inside. In actuality it was more helpful that they didn't bottle up their emotions. I loved that they cried and cried and didn't care who saw or heard them.

But in reality men do not cry and vocalize their emotions as much as women. This often leaves the large portion of well wishes and good thoughts directed toward the women. It makes me sad for Dustin. While I have such a huge support system, Dustin has close family that haven't acknowledged the death of our daughter. About two weeks after we lost her, someone actually asked him, "so are things back to normal now?" He took it in stride as he does everything, but it would be ignorant of me to not know that it hurts him as much as it would me.

I also have watched my dad take things in stride with some supernatural strength.  They both inspire me so much in my own journey. I have gone to them for wisdom on so many matters and how to navigate this difficult time. They are always there for me and I realize their sadness is just as close to the surface as little Henry's. I don't pretend to understand the differences between men and women, nor do I wish to, but I do know this: we both feel the same amount of sadness and loss.

THANK YOU!

My mom would be so disappointed in me.  I am sitting here looking at dozens and dozens of thank yous I have yet to write. She always taught us to be very grateful for anything given to us and do so with a thank you card. I have more people than I can name that need thank yous.  Over the course of the last five weeks we have inundated with cards, meals, grief books, hugs, childcare, even an oil change when we were in the hospital. Last night we feasted on a delish meatloaf. A friend brought the kids and I lunch today. I just received a text to check on me as I am writing this. All these thoughtful acts of kindness have left me feeling overwhelmed with gratitude. Truth be told a simple "thank you" is not sufficient. I can't put my gratitude into words, so I was very relieved when Sunday's sermon did it for me.

Perhaps, I am just overly emotional right now, but it was the "bring you to tears" type of sermon that changes you. I have heard the sermon on the John 13:1-17 many times throughout my Christian upbringing. I mean what Christian hasn't heard the sermon on Jesus washing the disciples feet? But the Pastor brought something out that I had really thought of (or lived) before now. What is love? Love we always think of as an emotion, but emotions are not reliable and change from day to day (or second to second as in my case). Furthermore, Christ never shows us love as an emotion but as an act. We find that act in the sacraments. We also find in the act of humility and kindness toward another. Christ as the Messiah washed feet. Gross, dirty, stinky feet! In that time it was seen as the most lowly of task. Most slaves wouldn't even be caught dead washing feet.  It is really powerful if you really think about it. I mean we like to sing songs from K-Love and go to our beautiful churches on Sunday, but how many of us wash feet?

Literally, I have washed feet hundreds of times; I am a nurse after all, but figuratively I am horrible at this. I never really truly knew what it meant. Blessed are those who have "washed my feet" because it opened my eyes. Washing feet is sending a text out the blue to check on someone, making a dinner when someone is too distracted to think about cooking, a hug and no words, offering to take down your Christmas decorations, an oil change when an oil change is the last thing on your mind, dragging bulky play equipment a block so your neighbors can enjoy it when you move. YOU all have washed my feet. I am blessed by YOU. Now, I must go on and show the love Christ wants me to and wash others feet...and yes mom I will finish writing some thank yous too.

 

 

We have FIVE kids?!

About 90 minutes into our first date, Dustin asked me how many kids I wanted. I remember the moment so vividly mainly because it was a shocking question. I was standing right in front of Restoration Hardware on the Plaza. I looked at my shy date like he was crazy, but truth be told I think I realized I was in love with him right then and there. I was so excited to have kids and a whole LOT of them, so being asked that question was incredible. I told Dustin I wanted 8 of course. It was all I knew and I loved everything about being a part of a big family. Dustin said he wanted 5. As the years went on I decided five was perfect...8 was too many, 4 wasn't quite enough, 5 it would be.

Throughout the course of our marriage, we loved dreaming of our five children (Don't tell Dustin, but I secretly had them all named and renamed a bizzion times). We liked the idea of conceiving three and adopting two.

Henry was born and we were over the moon. Then his little Irish twin, Amelie,  was born 14 months and 1 day later. Thanks for the fertility gene mom!


My health was not great, so I was focusing on getting things "in control" before we conceived again. I think God giggled at that "in control" idea and much to my shock I was pregnant again. I'm not sure who was more excited me or my mom when she found out we were having twins. She was a twin herself and her twin sister's daughter was expecting twins as well. It was an incredible time!

This is what 6 weeks looks like with twins after you just had two over ten pounders:



Later we found out they shared the same sac and same amniotic fluid making them identical twins, which is not a result of heredity, but rather just a "chance" happening. This was even more shocking because our families combined make for seven sets of fraternal twins, which are highly hereditary. And then it dawned on my we would have 4 children under 3!!! YIKES!!! Things just kept getting more exciting!

By 10 weeks, I had several ultrasounds to rule out what is called MOMO twins. Basically, it means there is no divider between the babies and it often results in the cord entanglement. It requires hospital bedrest and monitoring sometimes as soon as 20 weeks. Despite hearing that I can honestly say I NEVER thought for a moment we would loss either of them. I can still see the ultrasound screen when the perinatologist told us neither of them had a heartbeat any longer. The babies were holding each other. It was heart-breaking.

I told myself that they would always be remembered. I told the kids they each had a guardian angel watching over them. I cried and cried and cried for weeks. It changed me. It devastated our family.

Something in us clicked and Dustin and I felt we needed to try to get pregnant again as soon as possible. So when we found out about little Claudie we were back on track for our 3 conceived babies and 2 adopted. I was assured a thousand times from everyone lightening doesn't strike twice. "No the last miscarriage wasn't a predictor of another." "Yes, this pregnancy was going fine." By 38 1/2 weeks I was convinced. You all know what happens next.

So when someone asked me yesterday how many kids did we had, I didn't know how to answer it. I mean how do you answer that question? I answered two. I felt so guilty, but I didn't want to make them feel bad about asking and answer two with an angel baby. Or do I answer two, with an angel baby and two other smaller angel babies?!

I don't know and quite frankly I can't stand  saying "angel" baby when it comes to Claudette. I feel like perhaps the twins are angel babies because they went from my womb to God's arms directly. But with Claudette she went from my womb to my arms. She was a child. It takes away her humanity some how. It is just another one of those terms that really bothers me, like stillborn. OK, that is a topic for another day.

Anyway, I just stood there like a deer in headlights not even knowing how to answer how many children I have. I have thought about that question so many times since her death. I know in our hearts and minds we have five child. No, it was not how we dreamed. No we don't have a table full of kids right now as we often discussed. But God has fulfilled our dream. How crazy does that sound? I watched a video last night of a woman who had two miscarriages back to back and when pregnant with her third she told God he could have this baby too. I had an epiphany. These five children that I thought I planned, were planned by God. They are His and I am His. So despite my sadness I am grateful my dream came true and that we have five kids.

January 3rd

Sorry for those of you have a birthday or anniversary or the like today. But what a depressing date: January 3. The 2nd you still have the holiday high and are kinda happy to be back in the swing of things. The third reality hits. You must get up every morning in the freezing cold and continue on until the next holiday, Valentine's Day, rolls around. (Yes, I love that hallmark holiday.) Now you just have to continue back to the grind of work, school, life. I know, I know, I sound very depressing.

But today was especially hard for me for the above listed reasons and that I received some "unedited" photos of her birth. For those of you have had a baby that died in the womb you know what I mean by unedited. Yes, I will treasure those pictures dearly in time and do already in a way. I am also deeply grateful to my dear friend and nurse for taking them for us.  However, for now I would be lying if I said they didn't hurt to see her that way. The most difficult aspect to see how my husband and I look. I was in shock for the first week I think, so I didn't realize what was happening most of the time. Seeing the look on our faces as we held our gorgeous daughter is alarming. Let's just put it this way, it is not the look you are supposed to have when you first lay eyes on your baby. Grief and shock fills our faces. But it is most beautiful to also see how much love was in our eyes the moment we saw her.  I never connected with my other children the first time I held them. She was different. I connected immediately. In fact, I felt I knew her personality before she was born and I knew I was right the moment I held her.

So when my husband arrived home from his work day, he found me in bed and sobbing. I hate to admit it, but it is true. I also started a new medication that makes me very nauseated and I struggled with blood sugars issues all day and stir crazy children so I was done by the time 5:30 rolled around.
My sweet hubby looked at the pictures, took his turn to grieve for a few moments, then looked at me and said, "I will get the kids ready. You look great. Let's get out of this house." Looked great?! Ya right! Concealer has become my best friend lately and I still have permanent dark circles and puffy eyes.

Going out was momentarily set back by seeing a darling little girl that looked like Claudie in the same carseat that she had, which is weird because I searched high and low for that color and make of carseat. And it didn't help that we saw the same dress we buried her in on clearance. But despite all that my wise husband was right. Sharing a salad, a little retail therapy and a redbox helped a bit.

So now I will snuggle up next to him and watch a movie and prepare myself for January 4- the first day back to preK for the little man.

An edited picture of the day...



When Glory Meets My Suffering

Saturday night we had a delightful dinner with friends. You know as grown-ups. No children menus. No trying to decide if mac n cheese or grilled cheese is more nutritious for your kid. It was so nice...and rare! Both of us realized neither couple had gone out with other couples in YEARS, like before we had kids years.

They are going through a loss as well and it nice to encourage each other in faith and frankly just vent and relax. They also have a scrumptious little 6 month old that crawled all over me and chewed my face. I now love getting my hands on a baby, especially newborns. I swear I almost stole a baby when I was in labor and delivery, unfortunately none in hospital were as cute as my Claudie so I went home empty handed.  I have heard it is called "empty arms syndrome". I hate to admit it but I sleep with a Claudette's elephant stuffed animal. At first as a way to splint the incisional pain, now as way to keep my arms from feeling empty. I need a bigger stuffed animal though. It doesn't feel like her since it doesn't come close to twelve pounds.

After about FOUR hours of chatting away, our friends needed to get their little one down and go home to their other children. We however, had Dustin's mom watching our kiddos overnight and despite wanting to crawl in bed ourselves, we decide to take advantage of the rareness of the occasion with a late-night cocktail.  We went to our favorite place for such a treat, McCormick and Schmidt's, not only for their AMAZING fresh drinks, but also because it overlooks the beautiful Plaza lights. So as I sipped my white sangria and Dustin his Bailey's and coffee we reflected.

White Sangria and Bailey's and Coffee...oh ya and dark chocolate espresso cake.

It was Dec 29th. Claudette was born and died on Nov 29th. One month had gone by. How differently we saw this month as going. My dear friend that went out with us to dinner gave us a card. Basically, it was a congrats card that we had made it through one month. That we were where we never thought we would be, but we had none the less arrived and God had seen us through and would continue to do so. It meant so much to me, not only had someone noticed the month of our daughter's birth, but someone had also acknowledged the struggle the last four weeks truly had been.

Then it hit me. She wrote that card so beautifully, because she had been there. She had traumatic events in her life that changed her similar to my change. No it wasn't the loss in the same form as mine, but it was loss and with the loss came grief and sadness all the same. After mom died immediately you know who has been there. You recognize it in their tone, their words and in their silent demeanor. It is club you don't want to join, but you have no choice. So you cling to others that have been there too. It is like it is your first day as a freshman in high school after being home schooled (I say this b/c I can related to that one) and you are looking for another person in the same boat. All of a sudden you see someone else with fear in their eyes and bam you are best friends.

I have thought a lot of how the parents of Sandy Hook first graders must feel. Logistically, their small little town was overwhelmed with death, so much that they had schedule their funerals two at a time. I imagine how they can't find solace in social media like I did, because instead of hearing only uplifting messages there were gun debates going on almost as violent as shooting itself.  I felt horrible for them...still do. I imagine they did as I did.  I imagine they looked around for that person that understands. I see them all clinging desperately to each other, saying little, crying a lot.

So as Dustin and I sipped on our cocktail we realized we are now people that others will search for during a tragic time. I felt the strong need to do something with this unwanted responsibility. I thought about writing a book, but let's be real, nothing I write would be published. (Heck, I have questioned comma placement 32 times in this post alone.)  So I thought about what I need. I want something real, tangible and daily that I could go to whenever I wanted to vent and read and interact. Thus, I have decided to start a grief blog. It may help no one but me, but I pray others will find it helpful on their journey to read about mine.

Here is an example of how we help each other in grief. As I was posting this blog. This song was sent to me from a new friend that found me in my time of grief, because her dear son was taken from her arms as well. I have heard the song a dozen times, but it has never meant as much as it does now.
Listen here: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mxqfDs-64I0

 

Happy 2013

Today I read two books. I haven't done that, well, since I was competing for a free Pizza Hut personal pan pizza from Mid-Continent Public Library. Normally, I would be thrilled to have the time to do so...two toddlers leave little time for books other than Max and Ruby. But today it leaves me sad. Today, I should be consumed by diapers and nursing and chasing after her brother and sister. I shouldn't be cuddled up in bed reading grief books all day, while my husband keeps the kids at a distance. I shouldn't have time to read or sleep or eat. But I do, and too much of the latter.  I should be the mother of three kids not two.

It is officially the first day of 2013. A day I have longed for since the first few minutes of 2012, when I was cleaning up after a three year old sick little boy with the stomach flu. Boy, I had no idea what 2012 really had in store for me at that point.

Later on in January, I had to have gallbladder surgery. Again, at the time I thought horrible.

February kidney stones that resulted in my blockage of my right kidney and therefore a 3 day hospital stay.
 
By March I was done. We had been trying to recover from the miscarriage of identical twins the July before and were desperately trying to conceive. Another failed pregnancy test! I threw in the towel.

Then April hit and my period didn't. PRAISE GOD! Things were turning around. 

Then May and BAM! My mom whom had seemed to be doing better from an autoimmune disease and was finally an official candidate for a kidney transplant, took a horrible turn for the worse on Mother's Day.  A week later she was gone. Mother's Day was the day I was to announce publicly  I was pregnant. Instead, it was a day spent holding the phone to mom's ear so she could say "goodbye" to her other 6 children out of town.

June I started bleeding...bad. I had never had a bleed like that before and Dustin and I were sure our little button nose was gone. Thankfully, it was a fairly common issue in pregnant women and only resulted in bed rest for a few weeks. I laugh every time I hear that word "bedrest". As if it is possible with toddlers.

The following months of the summer were riddled with various "bumps".  Not the least of which was a massive outbreak of lice which traveled amongst the grandkids who all slumbered together for mom's funeral. But we tried to remain strong and overall were doing pretty good despite the huge hole my mom left with her absence.

By August it was decided it was best to stop working long 12 (actually 13) hour night shifts. Financially-strained is nice way of putting it.  

Fall things seemed better. I LOVE fall. We did all the usual things that a 7/8month preggo can do. October we celebrated the Amelie's birthday then our anniversary two weeks later.

Then November. Once my favorite month. My birthday on the 16th was spent at the funeral of my husband's beloved grandma. Dustin tried desperately to make the day special for me but at this point there just seemed to be too much grief (we also lost a great uncle, 2nd cousin, and dear family friend) and the first birthday without my mom was just too much. I was sick of explaining death to my kids. Thanksgiving came and we were ready to RELAX. Relax we did and plenty of it. We had a lovely day and spent the whole weekend taking the kids to Santa, putting up a tree and having a blast. I was SO happy. I was to delivered in 6 days!!! I had no clue my little button nose had died sometime between turkey and putting up Christmas lights. So now November marks death of our daughter.

December marks her funeral. A funeral that my father was forced to miss because he had to have immediate open heart surgery.

I write all this not to depress you (and me) but to outline why I am so done with 2012. But now it is 2013 and nothing magical happened at midnight. I didn't call my mom today and tell her Henry vomited again this year too. I don't get to snuggle with my daughter and feed her. Instead, I read two books. I watched the kids sled outside sad that I couldn't because I was still healing from the physical scars.  I listened to Dustin tell me about how our final working bathroom no longer works because of a huge plumbing issue. And I would be lying if I didn't say I am sad and overwhelmed already this year. But I also realized something: this earth is temporary, so we must take every second to live in the moment and use it for the greater GLORY! Who knows 2013 could be worse than 2012 and maybe 2014 will be the worst yet in terms of our earthly pain and suffering. Despite all the pain 2012 gave, it taught me intangible lessons about myself. Lessons one does not learn when blinding going through life.  One day SOON we will be re-united with our lost loves and that gives me great hope, but for now I am on this beautiful earth with my beautiful loved ones for a reason... So HAPPY 2013!

 Henry and Amelie ringing in the New Year

Letter from Mommy

My dear, dear sweet Claudette Elyse,

Your daddy and I have had our fair share of "surprise" pregnancies. But not you love. We planned and tried to conceive you for months. When I saw the faint positive line in the Target bathroom, I wanted to scream for joy. Your big sis Amelie was at my feet and she super excited too. After so many negative test this was it; we were going to be parents again.

Our pregnancy was not easy, especially at first. The week we were to announce your arrival my mommy went to heaven. Her name was Claudette Olive. I told her on her death bed I would name this baby after her, thinking I would use Oliver. Daddy and I so thought you were a boy. My mom's quick reply was, "no one wants to pass on a name like Claudette." She knew you were a girl before we did.

The week after she died almost to the minute I started hemorrhaging. We thought we had lost you. As soon as the ultrasound machine turned on in the ER we saw our little fighter for the the first time. Your little fist and feet were kicking away.There were scares after that, but I always felt you would be immune to something really bad happening, perhaps because lightening doesn't strike twice right?

A  few weeks went by and another scare. But instead of learning something was wrong, we learned you were a GIRL! Daddy and I were shocked and so excited. We immediately knew your name. Claudette (which means dies young) Elyse (which means God's vow of protection). Little did we know how the truth this name would hold.

The months went on. I felt you so much. You were so active, especially when your brother and sister talked to you. I grew to love you each second.As plans drew near for your arrival, your aunties got so excited planning their trips to be here. Your poppy, grandma, grandpa, pappa and nanny all were getting so excited too.

Even though you were our third child, we prepared as if you were our first. I got a beautiful, soft swing for you and packed your diaper bag for the hospital complete with a soft pink outfit.
One last appointment I was to have before your appearence. The day started so wonderfully. Poppy and I had a great lunch and off I went to see Dr. Mitchell. But you were not to be delivered the next week. God had other plans. Plans I couldn't imagine. Plans I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy.

So my sweet sisters came for your birth early and haven't left my side since.
The day of your arrival had all the makings of a great birth story. Lots of family, love, laughter, pictures and tears. But as your daddy says you lived your lifetime in an afternoon.

Oh Claudette, how I long for more than an afternoon of holding your sweet body, kissing your soft new skin. I want to know you at 2. At 10. At 20. I want to attend your wedding. I want to see your children. Instead I will see you in the sparkle of your brother Henry's eyes. I will see you in the spunk of Amelie. I will see you in their button noses and baby voices. I will see you in the calm spirit of your daddy.

Your legacy lives on my love. You have somehow healed so many by your mere presence, as quick as it was. And as much as I long for you every second, I will never forget your impact. As your Uncle John says, "you have a regal presence."

And soon we will hold you again, which makes me long for heaven even more. Until then rest quietly in grandma's arms and Christ' embrance.
We love you Claudette Elyse Elliott,
Mommy