Please Forgive Me

I wanted to apologize to my body. I called you broken. But you did an amazing thing this past week. You ovulated! Something so many women take for granted. I shouldn't have given up my confidence in you. I should be more patient with you. For that I am sorry. Thanks for working like you are supposed to! And lets not forget my beautiful daughter that you grew and nurtured for 9 months in my womb and 13 months outside of my womb. I hope you can forgive me. Truce?

The Life Of Clarence - Part I

I wanted to take you on the short journey of the life of my son, starting with finding out I was pregnant with my little guy. Below is a picture of the charting I was doing to see if I was ovulating and when. It was a long cycle and I was getting very discouraged and didn't think it was gonna happen. Then one night Chad and I were feeling romantic. As luck would have it I ovulated the next day and conceived Clarence. Of course we wouldn't know that for a little while longer though. About 6 or 7 days after I ovulated I started to bleed. I was devastated. Not only was I not pregnant, but my period came way too early....or so I thought! The very next day, the bleeding tapered off and then was non existent. I began to suspect the the bleeding was what is called "implantation bleeding". I was cautiously excited! Finally when I was 10 days past ovulation and about 3 days after the implantation spotting I decided to take a HPT. The very faintest of lines appeared. I was shocked. I couldn't believe it. Chad returned home from a short walk with the kids and I called him upstairs to make sure I wasn't seeing things. I wasn't!! Here is a picture of that pregnancy test taken on 8/4/2008.
We were so excited. I think Chad was more shocked actually than anything. We told a select few people and decided that we would surprise the rest @ Kensington's first birthday party later that month.

Just a few short days before her party I started to have brown spotting. I felt sick to my stomach with worry. I had had spotting all through out the first trimester with Kensington, but that doesn't harden you to the fact that it is scary. I called the OB the first thing the next morning and they quickly scheduled me in for an ultra sound. You can imagine our relief when we saw the tiny blob below just flickering away! I was only 6 weeks pregnant and already there was a very strong heartbeat. I was in love.

Evidence

So just a little bit ago I ran across 3 + pregnancy tests I had taken when I was pregnant with Clarence. The first was "the one" that told us we were expecting. The last 2 were taken in the few days following just to make sure I hadn't been dreaming. I started to throw them away. But I couldn't bring myself to do it. They are evidence that he existed. I can't part with them. They will go into the memory box I plan on making. Now I just need to remember to pick one up. I have a feeling there won't be one perfect enough to hold anything of his though....

Broken

Why can't my body just work like it is supposed too?! It won't even do the most basic of female things. I hate being broken.

Shame On Me

I can't believe it has been 2 months since Clarence was born to Heaven. It snowed a ton today. Someone told me that when it snowed it was the angel babies playing on the clouds in Heaven. Or something to that affect. It is a nice thought. What do our babies look like in Heaven? Do they look like they did on Earth? It is hard for me to picture him any way other than "sleeping". How sad that I will never see his smile. Or his eyes. I will never hear his cry or his laughter. I will never know what he looks like doing anything other than sleeping. And even then I don't truly know what that looks like either. Because if he had been sleeping his little chest would've been rising and falling. That's what a mother looks for when she watches her baby sleep.

I feel angry. I feel cheated. I feel sad. I feel .... numb mostly. The whole experience of being pregnant and giving birth to my dead son feels so surreal. Sometimes I have to remind myself that it happened to me.

I haven't pulled out his little gowns and hats to look at in awhile. They smell like him and the hospital. It is a smell I both adore and despise. His gowns have blood and fluid stains on them. So do his hats. Part of me wants to wash one set and save the other set just how it is in hope to keep his smell forever. But then I don't know which one to wash. The first set he was in that is the most soiled? Or the last set, that isn't nearly as cute. So I do nothing. They sit up in my room in a Ziploc bag and a box we got from the hospital. They sit along with all the other mementos from the hospital. I need to get a nice big box to put all of these mementos in and the little things that we had bought for him while I was pregnant. Funny how I conveniently forget to do that whenever I am out. Something else I keep "forgetting" to do is to look for an urn. I don't even know where you buy one. Can you look online? Do these things make me a terrible mother?

I miss my baby boy, even though I never really knew him. Every time I hear of someone that has children close together I get upset. Or if someone with a child around Kensi's age is pregnant, I am jealous. That is supposed to be me. My children were supposed to be born 20 months apart from each other. Instead my son only lived for 20 weeks inside my womb. I don't live a very structured life. We are not on a tight day to day schedule. Bedtime is about the only routine that we keep. I don't make many plans for the future. The one plan I did make, to have my children close in age, was taken away. I felt so blessed and so lucky to find out I was pregnant with Clarence after only 3 months of trying. Some women with PCOS try years. I knew how lucky I was. I feel like fate took one look at me and decided I didn't deserve to be so happy. Like it wanted to wipe that smug look off of my face as I made jokes about my husbands "super sperm". I feel so humbled by this whole experience. Knocked to the ground and kicked in the gut several times over. Like I am being taunted and laughed at. "Oh your life is finally going the way you have always dreamed? Oh you are finally to the part you have wished for since you were a little girl. The part where you get to have a family?" I feel like the rug was jerked from underneath me, all my dreams stolen. What did I do to deserve this? What did I do to deserve to have a dead baby? I loved that little guy. I wanted to keep him safe. I couldn't do that. I feel like my body has failed me. I failed him. And I don't know why. I will never know why. Why did my placenta not develop properly? Why? Why? Why? Shame on me for thinking I was invincible. Shame on me for thinking I deserved the happiness I had.

The Courage To Heal

So my husband and I have decided to start trying to conceive again this month. A friend told me that a friend of a friend of a friend had mentioned to her something about hoping that I didn't become obsessed with TTC again, as she knew so many other women who had after having a loss. Apparently she thought this was sad or unhealthy. It was obvious to me that she was passing judgement. So, of course, I have been paranoid ever since about what one would think if/when they learned we were trying again so soon. What I have realized upon pondering this is that trying to have another baby is part of the healing process for me. And not just for me. For a lot of women that have experienced losses. It is in almost every book that I have read. It is "normal" (there is that word again), human and HEALTHY to have the desire to be pregnant again. Unless we decided not to have more children, the next phase of my healing can't come without TTC again. Pregnancy, as much as I have loved it in the past, has now become the enemy. One of my biggest fears. The biggest fear outside of losing my husband or children. In order to conquer that fear I need to face it head on. Don't get me wrong here. I am not delusional. Nowhere in my mind do I think, not even for a second, that if I have a successful term pregnancy with a healthy live baby that I am suddenly gonna be healed. I know that is not true. However, I am certain that it will be a fundamental part of the process. Conquering this fear and coming out OK on the other side with my dream in my arms, that will be the vessel that gets me to the "other side", to the next stage of my healing. And notice that I said "my healing". Because it is mine, not yours. Mine to figure out, not yours to judge. TTC again, wanting to expand our family and having the courage to take the plunge is one of the most crucial steps in this healing process for me. One that can't be skipped. One that can't just be put off because I am worried what others might think. I will not be ashamed. I will not hide it. Unfortunately, it took someone telling me how strong and courageous I was to try again for me to realize it. I didn't see it that way. I thought others would think I was weak. But what is weak is caring about what others think. Especially if they have never lost a child. So to that friend of a friend of a friend...I am gonna become obsessed with having another child. I want to expand my family. And anyone who really knows me, knows that I would be obsessed with TTC even without having lost Clarence. That is just me. When I do something, I do it full out. Shame on you for passing judgement on me!

Do You Own These Shoes Too? They Suck.

"A Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.

They are ugly shoes.

Uncomfortable shoes.

I hate my shoes.

Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.

Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.

Yet, I continue to wear them.

I get funny looks wearing these shoes.

They are looks of sympathy.

I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.

They never talk about my shoes.

To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.

To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.

But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.

I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.

There are many pairs in this world.

Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.

Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.

Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.

No woman deserves to wear these shoes.

Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.

These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.

They have made me who I am.

I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

~Author unknown~

Is This The End, Or A New Beginning?

I just haven't felt much like posting. IDK why b/c I am happy (or content at least) with the appointment we had on Tuesday to discuss the pathology report with the Perinatologist. I just haven't felt like writing about it. Not even on SC or in my journal. I guess because it makes everything so final? Like putting a period at the end of the sentence? Or finishing a chapter of a book? IDK. I know the "book" will continue and this last chapter will always be with me. Clarence will always be with me ....but for some reason I have been hesitating to turn the page.

The Doctor that I met with was wonderful. He is the partner of the guy that I saw while pregnant with Clarence.(Remember the one I never liked?) He was so quick to the point, no personality and not a conversationalist at all. He did nothing to calm my worries. Well his partner, Dr. M is the complete opposite. Like night and day. We first sat in his office and he wanted me to sit down and tell my version of things. To see where I was coming from and how I felt about things. He listened so intently. We even talked about PCOS and my treatment for it. It just showed me that he was in no hurry and that we had his full attention for however long we needed it. He decided it would be good to run some tests to make sure I didn't have a clotting disorder or an auto immune disease. He ordered about 8 different tests and they seriously took like 12 vials of blood! He suspects all will come back normal b/c I have already had one normal healthy pregnancy that resulted in a live birth to a healthy child. That actually would be a great thing for the tests to come back normal, b/c then it is most likely a fluke and chances are it won't happen again. But he did tell me the things he was testing for were all things that we could do stuff about to prevent another loss. So after discussing that he stated that he thinks based on my description of the pregnancy, all the hemorrhages I had and my medical charts that the pregnancy was "doomed" from the beginning. Starting with the week 6 spotting. He thinks it was a problem with the placenta. For some reason it didn't develop properly. And essentially he thinks Clarence "out grew" the placenta. He just got to be too big for the placenta to support him anymore b/c it wasn't properly developed. There wasn't enough blood and oxygen to circulate to him. And his sweet little body could survive no longer. Nothing that I did would've caused it. It just happened. He took his time and answered all my questions. I didn't feel rushed or silly for anything I asked. He even said I could call or email him if I thought of any other questions after we left the office. He explained that the Velamentous Cord Insertion that they had suspected at my last ultra sound wasn't at all likely to be the cause of death. He said that they are rarely cause for concern and they definitely don't cause complications like sudden death. So that is it. I feel better. I was so worried the appointment wouldn't go well and I would come home a mess. I do still want to ask if there is a way to make sure the placenta is developing correctly next time around. I may email him that question. Though, even if it wasn't developing properly I am not sure there is anything that could be done.

From here we move forward. End the chapter and start a new one. I think we are ready. I know that another child could NEVER take Clarence's place. But I truly believe it will help in the healing process. Because life goes on...even when you want it to stand still. So I will hold Clarence in my heart. I will think of him everyday. I do already. How could I not?

Blessed

Someone made this for me and it is just so beautiful I wanted to share. It reminded me of how wonderful my life truly is. I am very blessed. (For those of you who don't know me, I have a step son, Brenden that is 9 years old, and a beautiful 17 month old daughter who is the light of my life!)

A Righteous Kill

That is the movie that my husband and I were watching when I had my first hemorrhage. We were about half way through the movie. We rented it tonight and watched it. It was a really good movie. But in the back of my mind I kept trying to pin point exactly when I started bleeding. I have an idea, but couldn't remember exactly. Then as I was watching the rest of the movie I was thinking, this was playing while I was sitting in that ER waiting room. It was just weird.

Every once in awhile we will go somewhere I haven't been since I was pregnant. I always remember "the last time I was here I was pregnant". Just before Christmas we went to dinner @ a Japanese steak house. It was the same restaurant we went to for Chad's birthday. That day I had had my biggest hemorrhage yet. So of course when we went there around Christmas it was kinda hard. I couldn't stop thinking about how the last time I had been there my baby had been with me. To make matters worse we were seated at a table with 2 very pregnant women. They were sisters or sisters-in-law I think. And the entire time they talked about their pregnancies. Ultra Sounds, finding out the gender, yada, yada, yada. Needless to say, I had to excuse myself to the restroom several times.

Today we went to Chuck E Cheese and took Kensington. This time I was able to think back and say the last time I was there, Kensington was still in my belly. It was August 20, 2007. We had just had maternity and family pictures down @ Kiddie Kandids. I was 36w1d pregnant. We went to Chuck E Cheese to celebrate Brenden's birthday. Almost exactly 4days later I was holding my precious baby girl for the first time! That memory brought a smile to my face. It was nice to be able to associate the thought "the last time I was here" with something happy.

It has been a very hard few days. I was already feeling a little blue, but I blamed that on AF. Then it was exacerbated last night by me finding out that my OB's office had the pathology report for so long and did not call me. I can't let that go without saying something. So now I just have to figure out how I go about that. Something to worry about that I shouldn't have to. That and the looming appt we have this Tuesday to discuss the pathology findings with the Perinatologist. Which I am sure we will get no answers. So why bother going, right? Well I am hoping the doctor I sit with is empathetic and can at least offer us some possible scenarios of what may have happened. And calm my fears and guilt that it wasn't something I did to cause his death. Ex: a med I took, the butter I ate, not eating enough.... I will be a nervous wreck come Tuesday.

WTH?!

I just looked at the pathology report from my placenta. I am preparing for our appt with the specialist this coming Tuesday to go over it. I just realized it was received by my OB's office on DECEMBER THE FOURTH!!!!! No one ever called me! I had to call the last week of December to get it. I can't believe it. On December the 4th I had my f/u appt at that same OB's office. There she told me it could take up to 2 or 3 weeks and that if I hadn't heard from them by the New Year to call the office. Do they not realize how we agonized waiting for a report such as that?! What the HELL!? I am pissed. I am for sure changing OB's now. The practice is too huge and you are just a number. I agonized about calling and waited 3 weeks for that report when it was sitting right there in their office. Made myself sick to my stomach with anticipation. Piss on them. I am gonna take this up with someone there. I don't know who, but someone is gonna hear about it!

Normal

On my Myspace page I recently had the status of "Trying to find a new normal". Some people may wonder, "what the heck is that supposed to mean?" Someone sent this to me. I think it explains it very well. I have deleted a few that I feel just don't apply to me. But most of it touched me very deeply.

From the heart of a bereaved Mother... This is now what "normal" is...

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

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

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

Normal is staring at every baby who looks like he is my baby's age. And then thinking of the age they would be now and not being able to imagine it. (This applies to pregnant women for me)

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.

Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someones eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal". ( This one is so true and really surprised me when it first happened. I can't believe how calmly and without tears I can talk about it now. But inside it still hurts so bad. I am afraid people expect me to cry the whole time I talk about him. And then I worry that they don't understand when I don't.)

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and their birthday and survive these days. And trying to find the balloon or flag that fit's the occasion. Happy Birthday? Not really. (This applies to my looming due date and how I will handle the anniversary of his death and the Thanksgiving ,the day it started and Christmas holidays this year.)

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my babies or even ask how I am.

Normal is making sure that others remember them.

Normal is after the funeral is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.

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

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

Normal is sitting at the computer crying, sharing how you feel with chat buddies who have also lost a child.

Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.

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

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

Normal is being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food. (But, thankfully this is greatly improving for me)

Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have two children or one, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have 1 child to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.

Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God. (The latter part of this is true for me. I am afraid to say a prayer right now. Is there anyone listening?)

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

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

------ author unknown

Happy Birthday To Me

So today is my birthday. 33. Yikes! I got an early birthday present yesterday. One that most people wouldn't be that excited about. My favorite aunt came to visit me. In other words AF (Aunt Flow). I am excited about this because it means my body is doing a good job of healing after the stillbirth of Clarence and the D&C to remove the placenta. It also means that we are able to start ttc (trying to conceive) again. Which I am so ready to do. Right or wrong, just the idea of being pregnant by the time Clarence's due date comes up is so comforting. And I think it would really make it easier if I was pregnant for Thanksgiving, his birthday, and Christmas. I think if I am not...Well, honestly, I would be a total mess. I think about it obsessively almost. If I got pregnant this month I would be due in Oct. Hmmm...we have too many October bday's in our family though. But then I could have a baby for the holidays next year, when Clarence would've been here. And then I think, I have always wanted to be hugely pregnant for the holidays, so a January or Feb baby would be great. For that we'd have to get pregnant in April or May. See what I mean about thinking about this too much?! I need to just let nature take it's course. So anyhow, that is where my mind has been lately.

Today was a great bday. I took KK to the library for story time and she had a lot of fun. The lady reads stories and also does songs with different props for the kids to use in between books. Today she did some felt board stories too. It is so neat to see her venture out on her own and not be shy. I love to just sit back and watch her take it all in. After returning from the library, she laid down for a nap. Mommy (that's me) got in her pj's and promptly made her way to the couch for some much needed R&R. Then off to dinner the 3 of us went to celebrate my bday. We went to the Olive Garden. Kensi got the fettuccine Alfredo...but she ate my spaghetti instead. You can never predict a toddler I tell ya. Had we ordered her the spagetti she would've wanted something else. Now that Kensington is tucked into bed, I am gonna end the night snuggled up on the couch with my DH (Dear husband) and watch some TV.

It just occurred to me that maybe I need to add an index for a list of abbreviations. That may help some of you along that aren't familiar with my SoulCyster's and ttc lingo. I'll check into that.

The Most Perfect Day

I did get to have one perfect, blissful day in my pregnancy with Clarence. November the 10th. It was a Monday and I had been doing strict bed rest for 2 weeks, hoping to resolve the Subchorionic Hematoma. I had an appointment with my OB for a f/u. That day there was NO CLOT on the ultra sound!! I was so, so, so unbelievably happy. I allowed myself to go to Babies R Us and buy some things for my baby. It was so much fun since this time we knew what gender we were having. I picked out an adorable baby book, light blue with a fuzzy tan teddy bear on the cover. It is funny that I picked this one, because usually I go for the sports stuff for boys, or sailboats. I also got a frame to put an ultrasound picture in. Just like the one we had for Kensington, except in blue. This was fun! Last I picked out a bib with a cute dinosaur on it that said "I'm the little brother!"

Not too long after bringing these treasures home I started writing in his baby book. I am glad I did, because I don't know that I would have the heart to start it now. For some reason it is easier to think of finishing his baby book now knowing it is already started. Otherwise I am not sure I could do it. So while I will only be able to fill his baby book in up to 5 months, I will be able to fill it with other things. Ultra sound pictures galore! We have a ton! 6 weeks, 8 weeks, 10 weeks, 12 weeks, 13 weeks, 13 weeks 5 days...you get the picture. And around 14 weeks pregnant I started taking belly shots. I took them through to week 18 I think. So I will have those to add. My one regret is that we didn't get a 20 week shot. For some reason 19 weeks came and went without us taking a picture. On Thanksgiving day we were going to do a belly shot. But then we all know what happened next. And while I won't be able to fill his baby book with cards of well wishes and congratulations from my baby shower and such...I do have a huge stack of lovely sympathy cards to add. It is amazing the out pouring of love we recieved from people. Little gifts and momentos given, beautiful flowers. I made sure to take pictures of the flowers to add to his book as well.


And while my dear Clarence was snuggled inside of me, he got to go with his mommy to see her childhood crushes in concert! New Kids on the Block! lol! We traveled all the way to Cleveland. And he got to go with mommy and daddy to see the "So You Think You Can Dance" tour. I will make sure to add that in there too. Oh and he got to go to his daddy's highschool reunion and his home town Apple festival.


So that was my amazing, blissful day. And it actually carried on for about 2 weeks. Until I had another hemorrhage. I will always remember the feeling I had that day though. A worry free day, confident that we had made it through the storm and come out the other end stronger. Me and my baby boy were gonna be just fine. Little did I know God had other plans for my Clarence. It's one of those things you think will NEVER happen to you, ya know? Someone I "know of" from SoulCysters lost her baby around the time I had my blissful day. I remember finding that out, that at 25 weeks (or so) her baby's heart stopped beating. I remember thinking "how awful" and "how does someone go through labor and give birth to their deceased child?" "How does someone survive that?" Again, little did I know....

But to end on a positive note. Remember the irony of me picking out that baby book with the teddy bear on it? Well shortly after Clarence was born, they brought him to us in a little basket. He was dressed in a tiny gown with a little white cap on. He had snuggly blankets all around him...and a little tan teddy bear. I think God sent me to that baby book for a reason. Now where ever I see teddy bears I think of Clarence. But it is ok. They are happy thoughts.

Another Rough End To The Weekend.

I don't know why I get so sad when the weekend ends. All weekend long I complain about people staying with us getting on my nerves and then when they leave I feel sad. Right now my emotions are so raw and so disproportionate to things. I feel like I am on a roller coaster that is out of control. That no one has ridden before and no one can tell my how to navigate it or take the control back.

I just want my life back so I can deal with the grief of losing my son and move on. I feel like a prepubescent teenager stuck in a woman's body..... I feel like a failure. I don't know how to just live life. I am always fretting about things I have no control over.

I miss my baby boy more than any words could ever express. I had problems with the pregnancy. A Subchorionic Hematoma was diagnosed around 8 weeks into the pregnancy. And while our little man was growing and thriving in there, the SCH was making me a mad women. Six different times I had hemorrhaging....six...different....times!!! Do you know what that does to a pregnant women. You are not supposed to bleed when you are pregnant! Let alone having it come out of you like someone released a dam. The doctors said nothing could be done to improve the situation. That as the baby got bigger he would be like a tourniquet to the bleed and it should all resolve. I decided that wasn't good enough and after finding an online support group decided bed rest and lots of water would be the key. And after 2 weeks of strict bed rest....the clot was gone!! However there was a little bit of bleeding noted by my cervix. Nothing to be concerned with though. So up and about I was. Never doing anything too strenuous. A week and a half or 2 weeks went by and then I had ANOTHER bleed. I couldn't catch a break. The baby was fine as usual, but the bleed remained and was a bit bigger this time. I tried to take it easy again. They said bed rest wouldn't make a difference, but here I had just come off of it after healing and look what happened. I had another SCH.

Then came the follow up appointment with the Maternal/Fetal medicine doctor. Our little boy was doing beautifully. I was 20 weeks. The SCH was still there...not the best news. The tech spent FOREVER doing the u/s, trying to see the umbilical cord correctly. The baby was comfortable and wouldn't budge. Apparently he was using part of the umbilical cord as his pillow. They suspected that I had a Velametous Cord insertion problem. Where the umbilical cord doesn't take root in the placenta, but in the membranes around it. This also leaves an area of the cord exposed, not covered with the Wharton's Jelly, and very vulnerable. This is not always a problem unless the exposed area runs low, across the mother's cervix. Then it presents a problem with labor starts and the water breaks, because the exposed cord is very fragile and could rupture, leaving the baby to bleed out in a matter of minutes. So the doctor told me that if that were the case they would schedule me for delivery by c section well before I would go into labor on my own. Pretty scary, huh? He wanted to see me back in a month to confirm their suspicions. In the meantime, no special orders. No bed rest or anything. WTF?? I couldn't understand that. And he never did say there was a risk other than going into labor on my own. I was really surprised.

So you can imagine my surprise when the very next day, Thanksgiving Day, after not being able to find his heartbeat on our home Doppler we learned he had passed. At the hospital poor Chad had to sit and watch the monitor and see before I did that his little heart wasn't beating. Then he had to watch me, as they turned the monitor my way and the doctor said "the reason you couldn't find his heartbeat with your Doppler is because his heart is not beating". I will never forget those words. Or the kind soft way she said them. It was all so surreal. I had to be induced to give birth. He was born the next morning, Nov. 28th @ 5:24 am, 10.2 ounces and 10 inches long. He was PERFECT from head to toe. Perfect nose, nipples, arms, hands, legs and toes. He had the same nose as his brother and sister. We have so many mementos from that day. His little hat and gown, pictures, inked feet and hand prints and an impression of his feet in plaster.

I feel so empty without him. I feel so alone in my grief. No one wants to talk about it, including my husband, unless I bring it up. Everyone is afraid I am too fragile and will break if they say something or they will cause me more pain. The thing is them saying nothing is breaking me and hurting me more. It makes me feel like he is forgotten, as well as my pain. Maybe I am supposed to be "over it" by now in their eyes. But that will never be the case. It feels so cruel and unfair having him taken, so young and so innocent. And we may never have answers as to why. Just a bunch of speculation on what "maybe" happened. It helps to talk about it. Every bit of what happened it helps to talk about. So maybe this blog is the answer for me. Thank you Tracey for this suggestion. You are a wonderful friend!