Slow Leak

It started over 3 years ago at the precise second my mom drew her last breathe.
You could even hear me make a loud exhale.
The leak popped.
I knew in that moment life would never be the same.

A big nail was lodged right in the middle and unless I patched it quickly I would soon have a flat. At first I/we tried everything to patch it up and make the best out of a horrible situation.
Special gatherings in mom's honor. Tense, but healing.

But it is always there. You can hear it in the background. The settle buzz of air leaking at every turn. The big turns create even a louder buzz of leaking air.
Christmas.
Fourth of July.
Birthdays.
Fights.
I worry that one day I will wake up with a flat beyond repair.

The fact is there is a hole that can only be fixed by a mom-shaped patch. It's insidious leak effects every aspect of life. Teddy's giggles aren't the same without mom's giggles in response. The days I long to hold my Claudie is harder without mom there to understand. There is nothing that can change that.

Nothing.

This is my new normal.

No it is not all depressing and horrible, but now every joyous moment brings a tinge of sadness. Every hard moment makes me long for mom's wise counsel.

Although hard to swallow, this is not a bad thing. This is LOVE and evidence that I had it unconditionally in my life for 31 years by a human being who cannot be replaced. What a great gift.

A Gift From God

Everyone likes a happy ending.

A distinct start and a distinct stop to a story.

This is why we love movies and get so upset when the artsy/fartsy ones leave us hanging without a clear ending or an unhappy one.

I haven't blogged in a while. A long while. It's been hard for me. Not because I don't have anything to say. I just felt pressure to write a final chapter of some sort. My mind and heart were so confused on what to say and how to say it.

But I am ready to try. Tomorrow marks a month since Theodore Lee Elliott came into our lives. He came out screaming and I couldn't stop laughing hearing his screams. See I had prayed and asked many others to pray we would hear a cry upon his arrival. It was the hardest thing for us not hearing Claudie's cries and I just needed to hear his as soon as he arrived. Well,  I think I prayed too hard or asked to many people to pray because his cries turned to screams and he didn't stop. I kept giggling uncontrollably through the tears even when his cries stopped and contentment set in the moment he came close to my face and I could smell him and take in his incredible beauty.

We named him Theodore because it meant gift from God.  (Get it now? As in Teddy...as in Teddy Bear, hence Baby Bear. See I told you I already told you all his name.)

It was a magical day. The day started off stormy and i noted the clouds parting from the large window in my labor room right as I was being wheeled off to my c-section.

I remember thinking if there is a rainbow in the sky I am going to totally eat my words. For those who don't know there is a term called rainbow baby. It is for a child that is born after the loss of the previous baby. I have been vocal about my distaste for the term because first off not everyone gets their rainbow. Secondly, I feel it makes children interchangeable. As if one baby heartbeat negates the one that didn't.

The statement that goes along with rainbow baby is:

After every storm there is a rainbow.
The rainbow does not negate the storm, but is a promise of God's blessing to us.
 (this is one definition, there are variations)

But this statement simply isn't accurate. First off, Claudie was our rainbow and she died. Also, there are tons of people who simply will not have another child after their loss. Secondly, it is taken scripture a bit out of context. A rainbow is God's promise but he never says if I take a child, I will replace it.

I still feel this way but I have to say as the months went on with my pregnancy with Theodore I started to understand the rainbow term a bit more. The pain and suffering of our loss was being replaced with the promise of a newborn and a future with another child. The immediate moments after Theodore was born I felt like an idiot for ever thinking rainbow was a bad term. I was elated. I felt peace that had been missing since our first miscarriage in 2011.  I held him in our arms and I thought this is it! It was all worth it for this.
I began to believe it for the next few days. Theodore filled a void in our world. Big brother Henry and big sis Amelie were happier than I have ever seen them. Friends and family rejoiced in a way I didn't realize how deeply they had been affected by our losses.

Then as the days went on, something felt wrong. It hit softly at first. I would sob quietly as I fed my newborn in my arms in the overnight hours. I attributed it to hormone shifts. Then Mother's Day came and it hit me, HARD.  It was NOT all worth it. Teddy's life wasn't worth Claudie's life. They are two distinct human beings. Two separate souls. I felt guilty. Guilty for trying to replace our daughter. Guilty for not being able to give others our happy ever after they all wanted so deeply for us. I want so badly to have the happy ending, the final chapter to a long, pain-ridden story. This is not the way life actually happens though. Life is not a straight path with some ups and downs in between.

My mom knew she would die for one week before she passed. She knew this reality on Mother's Day three years ago and she had until Thursday evening to say things most of us will never get the chance to. Something that has struck me about that time with her is there was no final grand statement to summarize her life. Sure there were lots of profound statements to each of us and tons of intimate moments but no dramatic quote at the end of her book. Instead her last remarks were about the life that was to come.

I see it! The light. Do you see it? I am ready- my mom said faintly in her last few breathes.

It seemed to us as earth-dwellers that her book was on its last page, but as a Christian she realized her life was not ending but she was transitioning into something everlasting and beautiful.

I guess what I am trying to say is while Theodore is an incredible answer to prayer, he isn't an answer to our daughter's death. I wouldn't want that incredible burden for my a child to carry anyhow. He is another chapter in a book, another chapter in a beautiful, rollercoastered, loopied-looped, upside down, backwards, sideways book that will last forever and will reach its perfection only after we die--THIS is ever-lasting promise is that God gives in the form a rainbow!

Prayers Answered

So after my last blog entry, you might have a clue to the anxiety that has crept in and continues to get worse and worse with each passing week.


It became clear to Dustin and I that going past 38 weeks would be very hard for us since it was the week we lost Claudette. Actually, her autopsy put her time of death sometime within 48 hours of her 37 week biophysical profile.

This is what terrifies the most. That we can perform all the test available but still lose her so quickly after they are normal.

We decided we would ask very direct questions and try to have the docs understand the need to take the baby some where before 38 weeks, even if nothing was showing up wrong. We came up with a script of sorts we would take to our docs at today's 34 week scan. I was anxious about doing this because I didn't really know if it was best to take him sooner. Was I letting my anxiety get in the way of rational thinking?

I grew more anxious thinking about this and decided to bring very direct prayers to God. I prayed all night that it would be clear. That we wouldn't have to make a decision, but it would be made for us. I walked to my car praying out loud like a mad person, not even realizing what I was doing until I got a strange look from the guy walking next to me. I prayed things like, "make her [our doc] answer the questions we don't even know we have."

We went into my weekly BPP not expecting much from him, since he failed last week's for practice breathes. He exceeded our expectations and then some. He was showing offsomething fierce. The sonographer kept saying things like, "you don't want to do a NST today little boy! Wow, you are so active!" It was such a relief. He kept licking his fingers...odd... and opening his eyes...more odd. He was cracking us up and couldn't believe how much he looks like his daddy.

After getting lots of great pics we waited for the doc. Both of us still thinking we need to talk to the doc
about what to do with the next few weeks of this pregnancy. As we were discussing the door knocks, in walks our high risk OB and says, "I need to ask you something. Because of your erratic blood sugars and your history are you open to doing an amnio and taking the baby if lungs are okay at 37 weeks? This would be April 10."

I almost fell out of my chair. I had envisioned this baby being born on April 10th since the day I found out I was pregnant. I knew 38 weeks was too scary, 36 weeks was too early. 37 was what I hoped for. We discussed risk/benefit of the amniocentesis versus steriods ect and agreed this was a good game plan.
So in 17 days we will hopefully meet our son!!

We are still in a bit of shock, in fact Dustin said that is too soon for me. I laughed thinking he was joking. He wasn't! He said no I think that is too soon, I have a lot to get done before that date at work and I don't think I can do it. I ever so kindly, restrained my pregnant-hormonal self and said, "I want you to think about what you just said and then speak to me."

He nervously smiled, kissed me and said, "I have to get to office and get 2 months of work done in 2 weeks."

Daddy's nerves are setting in. I get it, but this momma feels more at  peace and  confident in the first time since we found out I was pregnant. Everything seems to be falling into place. In fact, when I was getting my EKG, the EKG tech and I started speaking and she is a volunteer at Alexandra House, a place for baby hospice and fetal/baby loss, and she helped make the care package I got when we lost Claudie! I mean really?? What are the chances.

So now mommy and nervous daddy have a plan, a date, and serious dose of HOPE!