I wish someone could tell me what to do. I wish someone knew what I should do. Today, I feel like going to a psychic...though I don't believe in them...I wish I did.
I could be pregnant in the next month. I probably won't be. But I could. And I want to. But I don't. I just wish someone would say to me, 'Kim, you need to do this. It's going to be O.K.'. or 'Kim, are you nuts? Seriously? There's no way this is going to end well. Just give up already.'..
I wish I had a genie and 3 wishes. But then again, I would probably feel guilty about asking for resolution in my own life, when I should be asking for world peace or an end to persecution or slavery.
Ugh....I'm a mess. Most of my life I'm a pretty chill person. I don't need definite plans nor do I need to be placed on a specific course. But this path I'm on, sucks. I want off. I want the easier path. I want direction and I want to know the outcome. IF I get pregnant...those 9 months will S-U-C-K. Can I handle it? If we lose another child, could I handle it? Will another loss seriously, kill all the joy I have left? And if so, what will become of Asher? He needs me. He needs me healthy and happy. Am I biting off too much here?
Where is my genie? Anyone have a bottle I can borrow?
I wish someone could tell me what to do. I wish someone knew what I should do. Today, I feel like going to a psychic...though I don't believe in them...I wish I did.
28 March 2010
I love gardening. When I lived in Washington, I learned a ton about veggie and flower gardens and I just love to do it. I love to plant and weed and harvest and watch things grow. It's all so cool.
In the summer before I got married, my husband and I decided to weed the back fence area, in an attempt to put in a huge garden. What we both didn't know, was how to identify poison ivy. Yikers! We were both in for it...but I got it bad. Lets just say that I was on steroids for over 2 months. It crawled up both arms and both legs, stopping just in time...it was horrid.
One thing I hate is chemicals. I loathe them...but there is one thing I like less....poison ivy. That next summer...the summer we lost Jorai, we wanted to put in that garden we tried for the previous year...but I was nervous. I mean, we did pull all the ivy out, and I didn't see it creep back in, but still. So, we doused the entire area with herbicide...all summer long. Application, after application. Though I wanted a garden, I knew I needed to wait for all the chemicals to leave.
Last year, we finally put in a veggie garden about 3 feet in front of the fence area. It was smallish, but a good start. We had strawberries, squash, peppers, herbs, potatoes, carrots, tomatoes and peas. I loved it. I was so happy to be gardening again. This year, we're expanding last years garden and more than doubling the size. I can't wait. We got the sod out this weekend, and hopefully next weekend we're going to start building the frame and gate. yay!
I've also decided to finally put in a garden along the fence. I think the Western part will house the raspberries, blackberries, blueberries and grapes. But the majority of it will be a memorial garden for Jorai and Selah. I can't wait. I've been wanting to do something around the house for them, but I just couldn't think of what I wanted or where I wanted to put it. But I can see the entire fence from the Northern side of my house so I'll always be able to see it. I think I want to put in a wisteria or weeping cherry tree too, but for now, I'm focusing on the flowers. Oh, and I want some dahlias too!
Anyway, I found a coupon code for Gurneys which got me $50 off $100! So I loaded up. I've never used an online supplier for flowers, but I'm excited. So let's see...for $51.96 (minus shipping) I got:
- A 1-year old thornless blackberry bush
- A 1-year old thornless raspberry bush
- A blueberry bush
- A 1-year old seedless concord grape
- 1 red butterfly bush
- 1 blue butterfly bush
- 1 orange butterfly plant
- 2 painted daisy plants
- 6 balloon flower plants
- 25 strawberry plants
- brussel sprout seeds (100)
- sunflower seeds
- 3 plants from a butterfly flower mix
26 March 2010
What I didn't say in my last post, is that the doctor at U of M was amazing. She was so kind and supportive and thorough and apathetic. Though we didn't get the answers we were searching for, to have such knowledgeable and caring people working with us, was a blessing. It was a bittersweet appointment.
In other news...if we do get pregnant, I think we'll find out the sex of the child as soon as possible. Which is a strange thought coming from us since we love the surprise...but then we can name our child and start bonding so we can have as much time possible with him/her.
I'm really apprehensive about trying again. I'm not sure when we'll start...but I'm apprehensive. My heart has endured so many fractures...I'm not sure if I'll stay together if we have another blow. I may just break and fall apart for good. But I have to take the chance. I can't give up.
One thing that makes me nervous though, is the child. I pray that if and when our babies die(d), they feel/felt no pain. Thinking they felt scared and pain haunts me...and if they did...I don't think I could risk another one enduring it.
When I think of trying to find a solution as to why we lost our baby girls, I think of House. I picture Steve and I, sitting in a room with all these brilliant doctors who diligently work endlessly, until they find a cause to our losses and solutions to end them. But alas, that's not the case.
We had our appointment at UofM this morning. I went into it knowing that we'd leave with no clue as to why Jorai and Selah passed, though hoping I was wrong. I wasn't.
What we know:
What we don't know:
- Why we lost Jorai.
- Why we delivered such a healthy, boisterous boy.
- Why we lost Selah
- We could give up and embrace a future with one living child in our life and it could be beautiful. Truly beautiful.
- We could adopt. And I think that could be beautiful as well. It's not exactly what we wanted for our family, but I think it could be beautiful.
- Or...we could try again. We could get pregnant and walk through the valley of the shadow of death...and see what happens....It could end tragically...or it could be beautiful.
But I think I need to chance it. I don't think that I could go on and live my life, knowing that I could, possibly have another biological child...Asher could have a sibling.
So that's where I am. In limbo...once again. We have no answers and I hate that. I truly hate it. But what I do know is that we can have a living child, and I just don't want to give up yet. This could all end up in such a horrible, terrible, black filled abyss that it petrifies me...but it could also end up with my husband, son and I bringing home another member of our family, not in a cold plastic box...but alive, and cooing and crying and beautiful.
22 March 2010
To start off, in all honesty, I'm truly so excited for all of my pregnant friends and acquaintances and blog-friends...and I would never want them to not share the news with me. I want to share in their excitement. I want to share in their joy...
But come on people!
Nearly every time I log onto facebook and start scrolling through the updates, there's either someone announcing their exciting news or talking about their baby who just came into the world or complaining about their nauseousness or is showing ultrasound pictures or talking about what their toddler is doing/saying about the baby or.....on and on and on....and I am happy for them...but it's all just a sharp dagger stab to my heart.
21 March 2010
I've been trying to stay positive. I've been trying to laugh more than wallow. I've been trying to be optimistic. And for the most part, it seems to be working.
It helps that the sun was out nearly every day last week. Asher and I were outside feeling the sun warm our skin and listening to the birds and breathing in the wormy spring air. It's been nice.
But there's a date looming in the future that I'm nervous about. I'm excited about it too...but really nervous. It's our second genetic counseling appointment. This time at the University of Michigan. This time we're seeing not only a geneticist but also an obstetrician. It brings me hope that she's both. I'm hoping she may have some answers or inklings for us. But I'm so nervous that we may leave with the same information. Nada. And if we do...what do we do? I don't even want my mind to go there. I'm trying to stay positive.
I'm still struggling with my relationship with Christ. There's a part of me that wants to re-connect. But another that needs distance. It's like having a best friend whom you love dearly, but they've hurt you so much that ya just can't find the energy to swallow your pride and reach out to them. Steve, one of our pastors...not my husband, gave a great message at Riv last night. It was something I needed to hear. But I just can't seem to allow myself to ask Christ for anything. I still have this feeling like, what's the point...as if He won't hear me or could care less what I have to say. It's hard. I feel like I'm being pulled in two different directions. And as much as I used to love getting scripture from people...right now, it's kind of like a slap in the face. As if people are saying 'get off your grief high horse and let God in...He's the only one who can truly heal you'. Which in a way, they're right, but they also have no friggin' idea of the pain I feel. They're not in my shoes....they haven't buried...or burnt two of their children.
Speaking of...Selah's remains are still waiting for us at the hospital...I feel like a shitty mama for leaving her there all alone. I just can't seem to go pick that little white box up and feel it's weightlessness. I know I need to face it soon.
I'm just trying to focus on my beautiful sons' face...his laughter and spunk. He's the reason I wake in the morning and crawl to bed at night...exhausted! Last night we had friends over to learn how to play Killer Bunnies and the Quest for the Magic Carrot. It was brilliant. Great game! I laughed. Hard. It felt so good. I miss laughing...the real gut laughing. It really, felt good. Laughing is good.
Here's a picture of Asher that makes me laugh too. I haven't decided if he's blowing me a kiss, or showing me his stinker face...That's why I like it...you always keep me on my toes my dear son. I love you so.
Four weeks from now is/was my due date. I've been thinking all day about where my mind would be if I were still pregnant. Would Selah's room be ready for her? Would I still be nervous about how Asher would react to a baby in the house? Would I be excited? Would clothes and blankets and new baby products be out and ready? Would Asher have a shirt that states "I'm a big brother'? Would I be looking forward to my delivery? In 4 weeks, we would have been a family of 4, here on earth.
But all these thoughts no longer matter. In four weeks from now, it will be just an ordinary Friday. My little girl is no longer. My thoughts haunt me. My dreams have crumbled. Some of my days are alright. Some days I'm happy with my family...I'm O.K. with the path I've been set on...I may not like it...but I'm breathing through it. But then it's not so O.K. I feel everything crashing back in on me. All my loss. All my broken dreams. It's heartbreaking.
I've been weepy for the past few days. It comes out of nowhere, but when it comes, it's like a hurricane. I've been having good days. Asher and I spent a lot of time outside today, laughing and playing. But in the quiet moments of my day, it hits me. She's gone. She's really gone and there's nothing I can do to get her back. This is something I've known for awhile...obviously...but it's still seems shocking to me.
I just can't stop thinking that I would be 36 weeks pregnant today. I'd be feeling Selah squirm within me and feel her jabs and pokes and hiccups. In 4 weeks I would be nursing a tiny baby again...getting to know her personality and watching her grow and learn and laugh at her big brother. But I'll never get to experience these things. I can only dream of them. This sucks.
I miss you my sweet baby girl.
07 March 2010
So I'm a little behind....here's a catch-up...
For those of you who don't follow me on facebook, I need to share something with you. Last night at church, someone rubbed my belly and said 'looks like you have another one on the way.'.
Sometimes I feel like the whole world is against me. All of yesterday was a disaster. I was tired and cranky and Asher was testing me. And because I have a living son, I feel as if I should walk in joy every second of every day because so many of my friends don't have living, breathing children to hold and laugh with and love. So when I get angry or frustrated with my child I feel like a failure. As if I don't deserve my child. As if, maybe, that's why two of my other children were taken away...these thoughts haunts me.
So yesterday was hard. All day long, applesauce was falling out of the refrigerator and exploding all over me and the floor...Asher was throwing his food all over and not listening and beating on the walls and piano with anything he could find, I wasn't feeling well physically or emotionally...anything that could go wrong, seemed to.
I was also feeling really bad about my appearance. I still haven't lost any weight since losing Selah. Nothing. I haven't eaten any refined sugar in 3 weeks now...and nothing. I eat healthy and get a fair amount of exercise in..and nothing. Not one pound has been lost. My tummy is flabby and bulbous. I try to hid it but I can't. Nothing fits. I hate wearing pregnancy pants because it reminds me of what I've lost...I can't fit into my pre-pregnancy pants and my in-between pants don't look good. I refuse to buy new because I'm determined to lose the weight, but for some reason, it just won't come off. My shirts are all too tight and the ones that fit, show off my all too round belly. I hate it. I'm fed up. I feel like crap. My all-too low self esteem has plummeted to an all-time low. Just another slap in the face.
Last night I kept trying things on. One outfit after another...anything to make me look O.K.. It was excruciating. It was like trying on swimsuits...completely awful. I found something I thought looked alright, came downstairs and was covered in applesauce that fell out of the refrigerator and exploded on the floor...so back up I went to find something else to wear.
So having my empty, flabby belly rubbed and being told I looked pregnant, was definitely not the best thing to hear last night. I was humiliated and hurt, not to mention pissed at the fact that I had to relive the story of losing Selah.
As if losing a child isn't hard enough...but you have all the secondary trials and tribulations. You're fat and can't lose the weight; either your milk comes in when you don't want it to, or it doesn't when you do; you have a ton of support in the beginning, but then things fizzle out...people don't remember your due date or subsequent birthdays...they ask you when your due or 'if you ever want to know what it's like to have two kids...'; People either constant apologize for thinking they've said something wrong or are oblivious and continually say the wrong things; your anger is at an all time high and your patience at an all time low; every thing is a struggle...every thing.
I guess the past few days have just been 'one of those days'. The kind of day that smacks you in the face as a handle would if you stepped on the shovel end. Smack. Minding your own business, enjoying your life as much as you can and out of nowhere...smack. I know these days are out there, but they always seem to come out of the blue. I know my stress bucket is full and any little addition will send it spilling over the edge...but it still catches me off guard. I guess it doesn't help that another friend delivered twins yesterday. Babies surround me. Memories haunt me.
Today Asher wouldn't eat his lunch. Even though it was all things he liked...pasta, hot dogs and BBQ sauce, strawberries, chips, figs. He kept throwing things off his tray and watching them hit the floor or wall. So I cleaned the floor, then the wall...then the floor. I told him if he dropped one more thing, lunch was over. Let's just say lunch was over pretty quickly...so I took him out of the chair and he started wailing. My anger was brewing and Steve was gone. I knew it was going to get bad and I didn't know how to stop it. He kept trying to get back into his chair, so I put it outside. He stood at the door and cried for five minutes. I just sat there, trying to cool my anger. I finally sat down with a granola bar..again, one of his favorites...and asked him to come over. He wouldn't leave the door, so I took him by the hand, gave him a hug and offered him the granola bar. He smacked me in the face.
I lost it. Lost it.
I yelled, grabbed him and carried him upstairs to his timeout...put him in the room and slammed the door. Hard. My blood was boiling. I wanted to hit him back. I wanted to teach him how much it hurts to be smacked on the face. I wanted to teach him a lesson. I was losing it.
I went into my room and screamed. I screamed so long and hard that all my neighbors probably heard me. I felt like an idiot. I felt like a little girl who couldn't control her anger. But I had to get it out. I was so angry. I waited a minuted or two. I sat on my bed and breathed deep...in....and out...I cursed God...and then regretted it. I felt my anger retreating and I felt bad for grabbing Asher so hard and slamming the door so loud. I felt bad for scaring him when I yelled. I went back in and saw his red, tear stained face from all the crying and I picked him up. He clung to me. We sat and talked and I told him that I loved him. I felt horrible. I scared him. He could sense my anger and it scared him. I feel like the shittiest mom in the world.
Why are some days so hard? Why is life so hard? Can I get a reprieve anytime soon? Do I sound like a spoiled little brat for even saying that since I already have been blessed with such an amazing husband and son. Shouldn't I be grateful for that and stop complaining...shouldn't that be enough...shouldn't I be able to get on with my life?
Most days are O.K.. I laugh and smile and Asher and I enjoy our days...but then I have days where all I see is black. It surrounds me and sucks me in. And it seems as if the entire day or days are filled with one giant hurt after another. Today I hurt. I feel fat and empty at the same time. I feel anger and love, regret and sorrow. Today, I wish I could place my white surrender flag on my front porch...or maybe paint it across my face, so people know to tread lightly.
The past week has been rough. Not in it's entirety, but here and there, pangs of hurt, sadness and want, knock on my heart. I want so badly to be pregnant.
When I as newly pregnant with Selah, I often worried about how Asher would respond to the baby when it arrived. I was worried that he'd be jealous and try to beat the baby. Whenever I held another baby he would go nuts. I was really nervous. But since losing Selah, I have realized just how much Asher loves babies. Loves them. He wants to be around babies and kiss their heads and give them hugs. It's so cute to watch. He just, simply, loves them. That makes my pain all the worse. As beautiful as it is to see him with another person's baby...I see how wonderful he would have been with his own sister...and we may never be able to experience it.
There's a part of me that whats to throw up my arms in surrender, cast my fears in the wind and get pregnant. But I know I can't. I could be caving into my own wants, just to kill another child. I can't do that. Not so blindly. If there was hope...any glimmer of hope, that we could have another healthy child, then I would try...but I can't now.
The night we lost Jorai, she was jumping within me with such vigor that Steve and I laid there in amazement, as our hands felt her movements. We were lying in bed. As we did each night, we had our hands on my belly feeling and watching her movements. But that night was different. She was going crazy. We were laughing with excitement, thinking that we were going to have our hands full when she came. We were so happy. So, happy.
After losing Jorai, our doctor explained to us that most people who have a stillborn child experience what we did, that one beautiful night in June. Though that night for Jorai, wasn't as beautiful as we thought. As we were laughing in joy, she was probably reeling in death. She was kicking so hard and thrashing about because she was in pain and/or dying. We weren't feeling her happiness. We were feeling her death. That night still haunts me. What was once such a wonderful memory has turned horrid.
I feel blessed to not have had those feelings with Selah. And though I know I felt her move after my last memory...my last memory of feeling her movements were shared with my mom's hands. That brings me joy.
I've had a few people tell me to try to get pregnant again, if that's what I want....this is why I can't. Your child is your child, no matter how old they are. And though I know it would have been easier for me to try again if my losses were through miscarriage, they weren't. I birthed my babies. I held them and kissed them and called them by name. And how could I get pregnant again, knowing that they have such a slim chance of survival? Knowing that I may possibly feel them die within me...feel their lifeless body in my arms...feel the warmth leave their skin...never look into their beautiful eyes or hear their cries or laughs...never...never...never.
I'm hopeful for our appointment in a few weeks. I'm anxious to go. I'm scared that they too, won't be able to give us hope. But, I'm hopeful. The doctor we're seeing is not only a geneticist, but also an obstetrician. Maybe she's seen this before...maybe she has ideas of what it could be and/or if it can be fixed or prevented...All I can be is hopeful.
I want to be pregnant. I want to have two living children. I loved having siblings as I grew up. I have so many wonderful memories of my brothers and I. It pains me to think of Asher not having those bonds...those memories. But I have to be patient. I have to hold out for hope. That's all I have to hold onto right now. hope