Please

Sometimes I am overwhelmed with fear that this will happen again.  I think anyone who has suffered miscarriage or pregnancy loss or infant loss goes through the same emotions. It's occasionally enough to make me not want to try again. To just give up.  But what if? What if it doesn't happen again? And what if I missed out on beautiful, wonderful children because I was scared?

But.

But what if it does? Would I be okay? Would Chris be okay? What would we do? My heart shattered on April 12 and it doesn't quite fit back together the way it did before. If it broke into a million pieces again, would I be able to put the shards back together this time?

Does that thought ever go away? I hate that I can't take comfort in the things most women do.  I just want to be naive again. I heard the heartbeat. I made it into the second trimester. I was days away from being halfway through the pregnancy. If I get pregnant again, will there come a day when I'm able to relax and consider the possibility of bringing an actual baby home with me, and not just a box of memories?  At this point I can't imagine it.

The Ship

I am standing upon the seashore.

A ship at my side spreads her white sails in the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean.

She is an object of beauty and strength and I stand and watch until at last she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and sky come down to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, "There she goes!”
Gone where? Gone from my sight…that is all.

She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and just as able to bear her load of living freight to the place of destination.

Her diminished size is in me, not in her.

And just at the moment when someone at my side says, “There she goes!,” there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout, “Here she comes!”

- Henry Jackson van Dyke (1852-1933)

They just don't understand.

Note: This is a post that I wrote but never published back in May, just a few weeks after Caleb was born. I'm not sure why I never published it. I'm sharing it now because I know it contains thoughts universal to those who have experienced similar losses.


I know a lot of people don't understand. They don't understand why I'm grieving at all, much less why I'm still grieving. It's not like I lost a "real" baby, you know? But I did. I lost a real baby, a real baby who I held and named. Yes, I was only pregnant for five months. I don't even know what color my baby's eyes were. Once he was born, I was only with him for a few hours - alive for far less than that. If you've never been pregnant, you might not ever understand what it's like to lose your baby like I did. You must think I'm insane to let five months affect me like this. But if you have had a baby, perhaps you can imagine. You must remember how excited you were. How you loved that baby - the idea of that baby, if nothing else - since you peed on the stick. How comfortable you were after that 12 week mark passed.  How you fell hard for that little baby doing flips at your NT scan. How all of your future hopes and dreams centered on the little baby you planned on bringing home.  The baby was literally a part of every decision you made - what you ate, what you were going to do today, what you were going to do in a week, month, year, ten years. By 20 weeks, you'd made some concrete plans. I was in love, utterly and completely in love with Caleb before I even knew who he was. I was in love with the idea of him, of my hopes for him, of my dreams for us. Once he was born, I feel in love with him - concretely in love with HIM, the tiny little baby I held in my hands, and not the vague future I'd imagined. You loved your baby beyond words the first time you saw him, didn't you? I did too.

I didn't just lose my son. I lost all those hopes and dreams and imagined futures.

I didn't just lose all those hopes and dreams and imagined futures. I lost my son.

National Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day

I'm sure every single person who reads this blog is already aware, but today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.  Please visit IAmTheFace.org to donate, upload a picture of yourself, and show support.  They are trying to get 2,000 pictures from 2,000 women who have experienced loss in order to represent the number of women and families who lose a pregnancy or infant every day. Every day. Can you imagine?

Sunday my parents and grandma and I went to a memorial service that the hospital holds each year for all the lost babies and children. Tuesday marked six months from Caleb's birth and death. Today is this important day, and in honor of Caleb, I'll be going to the hospital to donate some outfits for babies born too tiny - they had nothing that would fit Caleb except a hat.  I'll also be going to a candlelight vigil and balloon release tonight (anyone in Omaha: Heartland of America Park at 7pm!) to remember Caleb...

and Adrian
Aidan H.
Aidan
Aurora
Avery
Avery and Alexander
Babies Holmes
Brody, Logan, and Wyatt
Christian
Ella
Evel
Evelyn
Isla
Jacob
Jillian
Joel
Jonah and Noah
Liam
Maddie
Nolan
Oliver
Olivia H.
Olivia
Peyton
Reid
Ryan
Sawyer
Sophia
Stevie
Sylvia
Valentina


and all the names I can't list here (if I missed your child, post in the comments and I'll add!), and all the babies that were gone to early to have names.

To all of them, I remember.  You can remember by lighting a candle in honor of today at 7pm to take part in the Wave of Light.

I think someone's trying to tell me something...

After I posted that I wasn't sure what to make of the ladybugs, I came inside to find the front door screen crawling with them - on the inside! No idea how they got there. There were probably close to a dozen. I shooed them off. The next time I came to the door, they were all back. And every time I chase them off (so they don't die trapped between the doors!) they come back.

It's like someone is trying to make sure I get the message.

Signs

Ok, I'm SO not the kind of person that looks for signs everywhere, but....

...every single walk I've taken since we got home, I've come back inside the house only to find a ladybug on me.  Every. Single. One. Today I specifically looked outside because I thought they must just be swarming all over the place, but I only saw one other one out there. 

Weird, no??

Five Days Out

Feeling okay. Chris went back to work, so I'm not walking like I should be. I will regret this tomorrow!