I've always said I wouldn't know what to do with a little girl. Well, now I guess I'm just going to have to fly by the seat of my pants! Savannah will be here in February. Her due date is 10 days after Adam's first birthday. I wasn't supposed to be able to have Adam, so to have lasted this long in this pregnancy & have the light at the end of the tunnel, it's just surreal. My cup runneth over :)
6 months is just around the corner & not far from a year. Time just needs to slow down! My baby won't be a baby much longer.
Too fast, my little boy will outgrow me. I pride myself on not spoiling him, but there are times I feel so bad for not holding him more, for not picking him up faster. I know it's silly. I know he knows he's loved. But way too fast, he'll be too big to let me do those things anymore.
I am 9 weeks pregnant tomorrow :) After so much trying & failing, the doctors say this could be it. There are no complications so far. I am so excited, past the point of being scared, & just can't thank my stars enough for this chance. I've been busting to tell the world, and since I can't totally do that yet, this'll have to do :)
It has been over a year since my 3rd child went to live in Heaven with her brother and sister. There have definitely been days where I get all teary-eyed, and there isn't a moment that I don't wish they were all here. But the beautiful thing is that I'm clear-headed and sober this time around. After I lost Amara in May of 2012, I went off the deep end as I usually do after a miscarriage, and it wasn't pretty. About two months later, the ironic thing being that I really hadn't had that much to drink, I was arrested for a DWI. Those six hours in jail opened my eyes more then anything else ever had. Since then, I've been sober 435 days as of today, October 1st. Getting sober made me really look at the situations I would have brought these precious children into. I used to only think of the father they'd lack, but I know now that even if I'd stopped drinking while I was pregnant, once stress set in, I'd have picked it right back up. Knowing this doesn't make losing my babies easier, but it does put it into perspective for me.
Sometimes I don't even know where to begin in trying to describe how lost I feel without my angels. It's that time of year where I'm reminded of how old my daughter would have been, and it just thrusts the knife deeper on the recent loss of my son. I feel like such a failure as a Mother, as a Woman. My body couldn't hold them, protect them, deliver them into this world. Sometimes, I just don't know how to cope with that.
I'm gonna live my life
Like every day's the last
Without a simple goodbye
It all goes by so fast
And now that you've gone
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now
Gonna open my eyes
And see for the first time
I let go of you like
A child letting go of his kite
There it goes, up in the sky
There it goes, beyond the clouds
For no reason why
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now
Gonna look back in vain
And see you standing there
When all that remains
Is an empty chair
And now that you've gone
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now
There it goes, up in the sky
There it goes, beyond the clouds
For no reason why
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now
And now that you've gone
I can't cry hard enough
No, I can't cry hard enough
For you to hear me now
I wrote this the first Christmas after I lost my baby girl.
A tear slides down my face
I feel the void of your loss
So strong today
The emptiness in my arms
Is like a hundred-pound weight
On my battle-scarred heart
I'm still in recovery mode
As the rest of humanity goes on with life
The Earth is still turning,
The Moon and Sun still trade places
Yet, my world is at a standstill
I've gotten better at dealing, slowly
But when it hits me like this, it never seems easier
Harder, maybe
Fate dealt us a cruel hand, Dear one
Your book was closed before
It was even fully open
All the pages were torn away
So here I am, dealing as best I can
Nothing, I know, will bring you back
I'll never know what color your eyes would've been
Or what your laughter sounded like
Would you have had my big ears? God forbid
Would you have been a doctor who
Discovered cancer's cure?
The world will never know
I'll never know
Jeg savne dig, min medet lidt engel
Outside, the sky is
Preparing for another day
It's looking like the
Sun will stay bright,
Like it's gonna be a
Beautiful day...
But today, I wish it would rain...
I'm missing my
Precious Angel so much today...
I wish the rain would come,
I wish the Heaven's would cry with me...
Than I wouldn't be the
Only one grieving...
This world keeps turning,
And she's not here...
Precious Angel
I wrote this a few years back, when out of nowhere while sweeping the restaurant floor one night, it occurred to me that even though my daughter's father wanted nothing to do with me, he was still grieving her too. It was just in a different way, with different people. That realization did not make it any easier on me, but it did give me a new insight.
For so long,
I've felt alone in my pain
No one to grieve with me
No one to understand fully
The extent of these wounds I bare
But today, albeit seperately,
I realize you're grieving, too.
You understand every tear
Every scream to the Heavens, "WHY?!"
I may never see our angel do alot of things
But neither will you
I know this crippling pain I've borne
So I can imagine yours, Elskede
You'll never see her walk
Nor feel her hug you & kiss your cheek
I can just see you with the first boy
She'd bring to meet you
And it makes me laugh for a moment
Than I sober to the thought of
She'll never say "Daddy"
You'll never show her
"The Little Mermaid" in the harbor
Or the vast beauty of your homeland
Yes, today, I realized you're grieving with me
It's like I never stop learning new things. It's hard to grasp that no matter what happens, time keeps moving on. Time isn't stopping because my life isn't going right, it isn't stopping because I'm hurting. It just keeps going. The world keeps turning, the seasons keep changing.
I laid there on that hospital exam table, my feet up in stirrups, listening to the god-awful drone of that machine as my unborn baby was taken from my body. My daughter had ceased to exist two weeks earlier, but the finality of the procedure hit me head-on. At that moment, I didn't think I could ever hurt more. Of course, I had thought the same thing just 2 months earlier, when her father unanimously decided that our relationship was over. At that time, I was naive enough to think that was as bad as it got. Sorely mistaken. Yet, while my daughter was dying, other babies were coming into the world. Time was moving on.
When I met my soulmate, the man I thought I would spend the rest of my life with, I didn't open up for a long time. He got parts of me, but bit by bit, I opened up completely and let him into my world. Into my heart. That just doesn't happen easily. When we decided that we would part, I was numb to it for a long time. It was like living in a bubble, where the outside world was only barely there. The true magnitude of the pain didn't hit me for some time. But when it did, it was losing Alexabeth all over again. The intensity felt almost the same.
I found out in the midst of our ending things that I miscarried at about 7 weeks. Again, my body failed me. I had thought the pain couldn't get any worse, but damned if I wasn't wrong once again. To sit there, seeing the first ultrasound I'd ever gotten to see, and our baby wasn't moving. A heartbeat couldn't be found. My chest felt like it would implode. Yet, life kept going. Regardless of how bad I was hurting, everyone else's lives kept going.
Tonight, I got the news I dearly didn't want to get. I'm not pregnant. I've had all the signs, the symptoms, and my hopes were high. I just felt confident that this was it, that I was finally going to have my happy ending, just not the traditional one with a Knight riding in on some white horse. But of course, that's not going to happen. That would be way too fair for all my heartache. And life goes on. Always.
These are my footprints
So perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints
Never touched the ground at all.
Not one tiny footprint,
For now I have wings.
These tiny footprints were meant
For other things.
You will hear my tiny footprints,
In each butterflies' lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you,
If you just give me the chance.
You will see my tiny footprints
In the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind,
And call each one that grieves.
Most of all, these tiny footprints,
Are found on Mommy & Daddy's hearts.
'Cause eventhough I'm gone now,
We'll never truly part.
Beautiful Angel
I can no longer hold
You're as close to my heart as ever.
Not a day will go by
That I don't miss you
Long for you
Or wish things had been
Different.
But you are in a better place
Where no harm can ever
Touch you.
No one will ever make you cry
Or break your tiny heart.
My precious little one,
I love you.
This has got to be the single most important poem I've ever come across. It was my mantra after losing Alexa, and I'm glad I had it tucked away in an email to her father. I can't seem to find it anymore in the search engines. I'm not really a believer in the Christian faith, as I was raised in it, but this one still tugs at my heartstrings.
Daddy, please don't look so sad,
Mama please don't cry
Cause I am in the arms of Jesus
And He sings me lullabies.
Please, try not to question God,
Don't think He is unkind
Don't think He sent me to you,
And then He changed His mind.
You see, I am a special child,
And I'm needed up above
I'm the special gift you gave Him,
The product of your love.
I'll always be there with you
And watch the sky at night,
Find the brightest star that's gleaming,
That's my halo's brilliant light.
You'll see me in the morning frost,
That mists your windowpane,
That's me in the summer showers,
I'll be dancing in the rain.
When you feel a little breeze,
From a gentle wind that blows
That's me, I'll be there,
Planting a kiss on your nose.
When you see a child playing,
And your heart feels a tug,
That's me, I'll be there,
Giving your heart a hug.
So Daddy, please don't look so sad,
Mama don't you cry.
I'm in the arms of Jesus and He sings me lullabies.
Everyone's miscarriage experience is different. We all find out, and experience it different.
Some get to feel their baby kick, some get to see one good sonogram before they get the bad news, some get to carry them for several months. None of these scenarios is easy. They all end in pain.
For me, with my first, I suspected I was pregnant. I didn't know for sure. When I finally got to take an EPT, it came out negative. Three negative tests later, I was convinced I was losing my mind. Finally, I was forced to go to the doctor for a blood test. The blood test was negative. So, I took that to be the end of the speculation. Every article online that I read, said the blood test was fool-proof. If I was pregnant, it would for sure come out positive. That was the end of February 2008.
By the first of April, I had been bleeding for days, and bleeding really heavy. Almost hemorraging, it felt like. I couldn't barely get out of bed the pain in my abdomen was so bad.
I went to the ER one state away so that my family wouldn't find out. When I could finally be seen, the doctor suggested a D&C. I was shocked. I thought that I wasn't pregnant. Dr. Knight informed me that I had developed an infection from the fetus that wouldn't pass from my body on its own.
They deduced my baby had "expired" a week before, and my body hadn't wanted to let go. That makes sense. The next several hours went by in a blur. I laid there, with no drugs, listening as they surgically removed my baby from me. That sound stays with me to this day.
With my second, here just recently, I suspected I was miscarrying. The bleeding lasted for almost a month, and the pain was unbearable. But with everything that was going on, I put off seeing a doctor. I was hoping I was wrong. The first week of October, I finally went to the doctor, one I trusted very much, to give me the answer I needed. I had a sonogram. There was something there, but no movement. No heartbeat. They took the bloodwork, and promised to get back to me the next week.
I tried to deaden myself to the possibility that I had been pregnant, and once again, my body had rebeled. I couldn't take another miscarriage. But a month later, when I had heard nothing from Dr. Jacobs, I called the office to inquire of my results. The pregnancy test had been positive. My HcG levels had been declining, as they had with Alexa, and eventhough there had been no heartbeat with the first sonogram, I was advised to get another blood test done.
That test came out negative. My two doctors conversed over my records, and it was concluded that I had miscarried and successfully passed the baby this time. I was devastated. My life was falling apart.
Now, a month after the news, I am trying my hardest to use my grief in a positive sense. I want to help other women. I don't want to be that zombie I was after my first. I want to honor my Angels by helping others cope with their loss and remembrance.
After miscarrying Alexa in March of 2008, I withdrew into myself. I didn't talk to anyone, and when I did, I was so angry that eventually no one wanted to be around me. Not that I blame them, even now. Thankfully, I had a few good friends who stuck by me, and did what they could to just be there even when I didn't want them to be.
Of course, not even all their love was able to keep me out of that deep dark hole I'd begun to fall into. I had started cutting, and drinking heavily on a regular basis. This was not long after I moved to Alabama from Louisiana. I was on my own for the first time.
The point to this post is this, I wish I would have had someone who truly understood my pain from the start.
I found this book on Amazon, and tracked it down at BAM! It's written by two professional women, who not only have medical degrees to help people, they both have experienced miscarriages. They know from a personal level the pain women in this situation go through. Marie Allen & Shelly Marks interviewed over 100 women, and even some men, to get the different feelings or takes on their journeys through this pain.
Miscarriage: Women Sharing From the Heart was the turning point for me. I started to feel understood. Even today, I still reread through it. It has helped me get prospective after losing Clay in October. I know that my babies are in a better place, and in better situations than they ever would've been here. But missing them will never be a thing of the past.
