Thoughtful Thursday

NILMDTS has recently started sending a monthly newsletter.  I like reading it because the organization was founded by a mom who lost her son.  So she gets it.  This month's newsletter was about Mother's Day and the floodgates opened when I started ... thinking.  Sometimes I think I carry this tension and weight that I don't even realize is there until I start sobbing and then it goes away.  The newsletter included this poem that I've seen before, but still makes me so sad.

I thought of you and closed my eyes and prayed to God today. 

I asked what makes a Mother and I know I heard Him Say...

I just had a baby, this I know is true, but God can you be a mother when 

your baby is not with you?

Yes, you can He replied, with confidence in His voice. 

I give many women babies when they leave is not their choice. 

Some I send for a lifetime, and others for a day. 

And some I send to fill your womb, but there's no need to stay. 

I just don't understand this God, I want my baby here. 

He took a deep breath, cleared His throat and then I saw His tears...

I wish I could show you what your child is doing today. 

If you could see your child smile with other children and hear him say...

"I went to earth to learn a lesson of love and life and fear. 

My mommy loved me oh so much I got to come straight here. 

I feel so lucky to have a mommy who has so much love for me. 

I learned my lessons very quickly, my mommy set me free. 

I miss my mommy so very much, and I visit her every day. 

When she goes to sleep at night, on her pillow is where I lay. 

I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek and I whisper in her ear,

"Mommy don't be sad, I'm your baby and I am here."

So, you see my dear sweet one, your baby is not sad nor blue. 

Your baby is here in My Home, and at Heaven's Gate he will wait for you.

So now you see what makes a mother, it's the feeling in your heart.

It's the love you had so much of right from the start. 

Though some on earth may not realize you are a mother 

until their time is done, 

they'll be up here with Me one day 

and know you were the best one!

I ache for Brienna.  As I sit here sobbing, my heart literally hurts.  I will forever have a baby missing.  Sometimes I don't think people realize that.  I carried Brienna just as long as I carried Pete. I fell in love with her despite knowing that she wouldn't be here very long.  And it hurts to know that she is gone.  Most days, I walk very steadily in my shoes.  But some days, I'm prone to tripping and others, I fall flat on my face.  The difference between then and now is that now, I can get back up and continue walking.  When Brienna first died, I was down and out for the count.  Now, I stumble and may fall, but I continue on.  I miss Brienna.  Mother's Day is a happy day, but for me, it's also sad.  The one thing I want to do is visit the cemetery and spend some time with my daughter.  I want to sit on her bench and bask in the sunshine and talk to her.  I don't want to feel rushed, I just want to be with her.  She is always with me in my heart, but the cemetery is her special place.

This time of year is always hard.  Her birthday is approaching and I can still vividly recall almost every detail of that day.  I hope I always can.  It's the one day each year that is devoted to her, and I want to celebrate her.  She made a difference.  Not just in my life, but in the lives of so many people.  And I miss her so much.

Brienna Marie,
I love you sweet girl.
Always.  Forever.
Love,
Mom

{Dis}Organized Thought

I've had a hard time organizing my thoughts lately.  As I mentioned, I've been irritable, unmotivated and generally just blah. I find myself getting caught up in the pettiness at where I work; I'm stressed/annoyed more easily than I'd like to be and it's really been weighing on me.  It seems like I'm easily swept along the path of negativity, which hasn't been the case for a long time.

I had a much needed appointment with my 'crazy lady' yesterday and I think I figured out what's really been going on.  It was one of those moments when I was talking and then all of a sudden I was sobbing.  For me, when the truth comes out, or I figure something out, tears are usually involved.  It's almost like my cue that I've hit the nail on the head.

So yesterday on my ride up to the appointment, I started thinking about why I'm bothered by the way I've been feeling.  In the past, I'd get caught up in the gossip at work or an ongoing family feud.  But for the past three or so years, I didn't let myself get involved in other people's drama.  I did not have the energy, nor the inclination. The negativity went in one ear and out the other.  I barely even thought about it because I was too emotionally spent from my own existence.  Brienna had given me the perspective I needed to essentially not give a shit because it truly just wasn't important.

I figured out that by getting caught up in nonsense, I feel like I'm betraying Brienna.  I feel like I should be above all this negativity because I know it's not important.  And letting myself get swept along makes me feel like I'm losing my perspective and therefore forgetting about Brienna and all she has taught me.  Part of this all stems from the fact that despite being blah and down this week and last, I've generally been happy.  I am content.  I didn't know if I'd ever truly feel that way again.  When you're mourning the loss of someone you love, you almost relish in that acute pain.  You welcome the outbursts of anguish because it's a tangible connection to the person you lost.  For a long time, I didn't want the pain of losing Brienna to go away.  Ever.  I wanted to always feel it, because it would mean she was still a part of me and that I wasn't letting go.  And I think being happy makes me feel like I'm letting go.  And I don't know how to do that; I don't want to let go.  I don't even know what I'm letting go of.  Is it the pain of losing her?  The lessons she taught me?  Is it finally giving myself "permission" to be happy?  I don't know.  I know that she is a part of me in the truest sense.  She made me who I am.  Why is it that sadness makes me feel connected to her?  Why does it feel like I'm dishonoring her by being happy?

I'm sitting here with tears streaming down my face because I have no idea how to answer these questions.  I know time heals and that how I incorporate grief into my life is is not a static thing.  It constantly changes shape.  But I think it feels like if the lessons she taught me are harder to live by, it somehow lessens the impact she had on my life.  I don't even know if that makes sense.  I was reminded yesterday that I'm still human.  That this is a process.  And that it's okay to feel the way I do ...

I Should Not Be Left Home Alone

P is away this week for a bachelor party in Tahoe.  He's having a great time, and I am so happy for him.  He needed a break from work and he deserves to have fun with his friends and not worry about home for a change!  However, I think once he finds out what's been going on, he's never going to leave me again.

I started off the week without P by dropping my phone in the toilet.  So Pete was on his first overnight, P was flying across the country and I was unable to be reached because my phone was sitting in a bag of rice.  I ended up having to get a new phone, which because I'm addicted to my iPhone, was not cheap.

Yesterday I was out running errands when I realized that I left my wallet at home.  I detoured home, pulled halfway up the driveway and ran into the house to grab my wallet.  I ran back to the car, put the key in the ignition and ...... nothing.  The car wouldn't start.  No matter what I did or how many times I tried.  Of course I park in the driveway we share with our neighbor.  And because I only pulled in halfway, she wouldn't be able to fit. So I had to put the car in neutral and push it up the driveway.  P's car was at the office, parked in a gated lot.  I tried to call the people he works with, but couldn't get ahold of anyone.  So I frantically called my friend Amanda, who picked Pete and I up and we went to Pat's office.  We waited for someone to leave the lot, I snuck in and as I'm running across the lot I hear, "hey, aren't you Laurie - P's wife?"  I wanted to say no, but of course said yes and then tried to play it cool that I was sprinting across the gated parking lot ... in the rain.  I get the car, stop at the store for either a bottle of wine or chocolate (I opted for M&M cookies) and head home. Where I discover that Bailey ate part of a plastic bag. I panic, but realize she is fine and google tells me it happens all the time, she'll poop it out.

So then I decide to check the mail and find this:

Really?  As if I'm not paranoid enough ... 

Great.  I hate being home alone as it is.  Most of the time it doesn't bother me, but I'm definitely more on edge at night, which in turn makes Bailey more on edge.  Which means she barks at the littlest thing, which then freaks me out more.  It's a good time in my house, I swear.

So today, I try and start the car again but no luck.  AAA comes to check it out, they assume it's the battery (despite me telling them it's not), they can't start it either so call for a tow truck and there goes my car:

Please come back soon car.  I miss you already.

So, I'm pretty excited for P to come home.  Nothing that happened was a big deal, but it seems magnified when you're the only one dealing with it.  I don't know how single moms do it - I give them so much credit and admire them so much.

And at the end of the day, this is the only thing that matters ... 

love that sweet face.  L.O.V.E.

Hopefully the luck o' the Irish is treating everyone else better!  But please tell me, does anyone else feel like sh!t hits the fan when they're home alone?  Or is it just me?

Goals

I am generally not one for New Year's resolutions, but I do think I'd like to set some goals for 2012.  And I think having them out there on the world wide web will be helpful in keeping me accountable :)

Health/Fitness Goals

1. Exercise every day for one month.  Starting tomorrow.  I really need to get back into the swing of things.  So even if I just walk a mile, I'll be better off than doing nothing.  P and I got a new treadmill (yay!!) for Christmas, so that should make things a little easier!  Once I've reestablished the habit, I can evaluate my specific running goals - namely another half and:
2. PR the 10K.  I want to run another half, but I highly doubt I'll be speedy enough to set a new PR.  The 10K might be the perfect distance, and there are many more to choose from over the course of the year.
3. Increase my strength training - I have a vacation planned in June and my sister's wedding in August!! I want my arms to look toned and I need to tighten my core - I bought a Groupon for hot yoga, and am excited to try it.
4. Join a running group.  I've had my eye on one for a couple of years now but then I got pregnant and it didn't seem like the right time to join.  I talked to P, and he's okay with me heading out on Sunday mornings for group runs.  Now I just have to actually work up the courage to go!
5. Drink more water.  I've been so bad lately about getting enough water.  I also need to quit my diet Coke habit, but I'm not quite there yet.  It's my very guilty pleasure.  

Life Goals

1. Mindfulness.  I think by nature of being female (and especially as a mom) I multitask as much as possible.  If I'm making dinner, I'm folding laundry or feeding Pete or emptying the dishwasher or just thinking about a million other things.  I've started trying to practice mindfulness when nursing Pete.  I used to bring my phone with me or try and sneak in a few pages of a book, but now I just sit and relax and savor the moment.  And I swear, he can tell.  It feels good and probably benefits both of us!
2. Establish a budget and stick to it.  Since cutting my hours to part time, things are a little tight. I think we're okay, but I miss my full time paycheck and the sense of security that went with it.  I need to try and pick up some overtime shifts so I can relax a little bit - and take some pressure off P.  I've heard good things about Dave Ramsey's Financial Peace University and while I might not be into the religion aspect, I think his budgeting is credible?  I've also been looking at mint.com but I'm not sure how I feel about giving up all my financial information.
3. Menu Planning.  I really want to try and do this. I think it would help with budgeting, and it would save me a lot of aggravation during the week!

And Then Everything Changed

It was just three short years ago that my world was altered.  I was naively happily pregnant when I listened to a voicemail from my OB's office on 12/16/2008.  I called back and was told that the doctor would call me.  In the back of my head, I thought that probably wasn't good.  The office closes at 4; he called at 6PM - from his cellphone.  Then I knew it was bad.  He told me that my AFP was abnormal, but not to panic.  He told me the possible things that could be wrong with my baby.  I went online, found the Trisomy 18 website and the first words I saw were "incompatible with life".  I panicked.  P was at an event for work.  I called him and asked him to come home.  I never do that and he was home in a flash.  We read everything we could, cried and made the decision to have an amniocentesis, the only way to positively know if our baby would be ok. Three years ago today (can you tell I'm a bit date obsessed) we had our amnio.  Our doctor was one of the nicest I've ever met.  Everything looked okay, he didn't see any outward signs of T18, but the amnio would confirm.  This is what I wrote then:

"Friday was maybe the longest day of my life. Our appt was at 9:45, so we got up early and were there in plenty of time. They did a level II ultrasound prior to the amnio to look for characteristics of Trisomy 18. During the ultrasound, we learned that Toot is measuring very small ... Based on a May 28 due date, Toot should have been measuring 17 weeks, 1 day, but was only measuring 16 weeks, 2 days. Small gestational age is a sign of Trisomy 18. According to the doctor, everything else looked okay, but it was hard to get a good enough look because of how small Toot is.


I am trying so hard to stay positive, but at the same time, am so afraid of what we will find out ... I can't imagine seeing your own child struggle with developmental disabilities, not being able to ever be independent. It just is almost too hard to fathom. You spend your whole life dreaming of a happy, healthy baby. Then you actually conceive, a miracle in it's own right and you just can't stop thinking about the future. Everything immediately becomes about the baby. You imagine the endless possibilities that await your precious child and to find out that may not happen is just heartbreaking. I feel like my heart is literally aching. It hurts to just exist right now.

I think the hardest part is waiting. They did a FISH test with the amnio, so we might know something as soon as Tuesday. But, our doctor told us that it's not 100% reliable and not to "bet the ranch" on the results. P and I know that no matter what, we're not going to change anything. Terminating the pregnancy is just not an option for us. I think God has a plan, and in these last few days, I've prayed more than I have in a long time. In one sense, I have this weird calm that everything will be okay. And I know, no matter what happens, P and I will be okay. If anything, these last few days have showed me that our love and our marriage is stronger than I could have imagined. We have each other, and will get through this.

While part of me has that sense of calm, the other is right on the edge of panicking. It's like I can't let myself believe that something could be wrong, but at the same time, I'm afraid to think that everything could be okay. It has to be okay. Our baby has to be healthy. How can it not? My emotions are all over the place, and it's hard to just function. P has been a pillar of strength; I wish I could be more like him. He said that he just needs things to be as normal as possible. While I on the other hand, don't know how to act normal. I haven't gone to work, I'm not sleeping and to top it all off, I think I have strep throat. And it's Christmas this week. I don't know how I'm going to see our families and pretend everything is fine. We might just skip Christmas. I love seeing our families on Christmas. But I just don't know if I can ..."

I have no idea how I survived.  I am so glad I wrote things down so I can look back and see how far I've come. This time of year is always hard for me.  Depression rears its ugly head and I have to fight back extra hard.  I have trouble motivating myself to run even though it makes me feel so much better.  I've decided that I need to hold myself accountable.  I'm going to start using either The Daily Mile or RunKeeper to track my workouts.  And I'm going to run another half marathon in March.  So that will get my butt in gear - I hope anyway.  I'm excited to run another race for BMM.  It's been over a year since my last one and high time for another one!

Blast from the Past

It's been 19 months and 1 day since Brienna died. Really? How is that possible? I have no idea. I've been so sad and emotional lately. Everything with this pregnancy reminds me of Brienna and I love it, but get sad at the same time. On Saturday, I wore maternity jeans for the first time since June 2, 2009. It felt so weird. I am carrying so differently with this baby and just can't get away with what I did with Brienna. She was so good to me. I'm feeling kinda uncomfortable, nothing looks good and I just am blah. I don't think it was like that with Brienna ... I remember being uncomfortable right around this time, but it went away. I feel like now, if I eat more than the tiniest bit, I have heartburn and feel like crap. Yet I'm starving and eating everything in sight. I've gained more weight already, and feel like I look huge. And yet none of it matters. I just want to bring this baby home ... I want to hear he/she cry and I worry about it at the same time. SIGH.

Ghosts of Christmas (Eve) Past

Two years ago today, I was sitting on the couch watching PS I Love You (not the wisest choice, given my emotional state) ... the phone rang and it was my OB, telling me that our little Toot did in fact have Trisomy 18. I was alone at the time and started crying. I called Pat for him to come home from work, called my parents and then cried some more. Poor Bailey didn't know what to do. She brought me all her toys, then eventually climbed on the couch with me and just snuggled. I distinctly remember getting up and starting to clean the house, repeating to myself over and over "falling apart is not an option" ... Pat came home, my parents came over to give us a hug and the beginning of my new life started to set in. Denial, disbelief and waves of pure grief washed over me again and again and again. It is hard to believe that that day was two years ago. Looking back, I never imagined that I would survive; let alone come to love being pregnant and that I would fall in love with my baby girl despite a terminal diagnosis. I also never imagined that the grief could get worse. That the thought of losing my daughter was far less traumatic than actually holding her precious little self in my arms and then having to let her go ...

As I sit here now, with Brienna's little brother or sister growing inside me, I am sad, yet hopeful. I miss my daughter so much. I wish she were here to celebrate Christmas, to anticipate being a big sister. I wish with all my heart that she didn't have to be in Heaven. Yet at the same time, without having lost her, I wouldn't be who I am today. I wouldn't have learned what I'm made of. I wouldn't know that Pat and I have a marriage strong enough to handle the toughest of times. I wouldn't know that the love of your child is one of the most amazing loves in the entire world.

So Brienna, I have to thank you. For giving me the best gift of all time. For helping me realize what's truly important in life and for shaping me into the person I am today. I wish you were here, more than anything, but I know that you're with me all the time. That love truly is stronger than death and that someday, we'll be together again. Merry Christmas, baby girl ... I love you and I miss you so much.

Hopeful

I am feeling hopeful. I worry that means the other shoe is going to drop, but I'm trying to stay positive. Things with this little munchkin are looking good. I had two ultrasounds this week: my last one with the RE (which I'm very sad about) and then one with my regular OB. It was the NT scan, and the nuchal fold measured 1.5 mm ... normal is less than 2.5mm. So I was relieved. We did the AFP 1 and won't know anything until after the AFP 2, but there is nothing to suggest anything bad. And it's kind of amazing. I'm starting to physically feel better and I cannot believe that I'm 12 weeks 3 days pregnant. I've only told a very few people and would love to keep things under wraps until 16ish weeks, but I'm not sure that's possible. We have a few family events coming up and me not drinking would lead to suspicion ... but we'll see. There is a part of me that feels like everything is going to be okay and then another part of me that is unsure how anything can ever be okay. Like something bad can always happen. And we're the people that it will happen to. But I'm trying not to think that way. It isn't good for me and it certainly isn't good for the munchkin :)

Too Good to be True?

I am pregnant. Again. I never got a period after the miscarriage and 6 weeks to the day when the miscarriage started, I took a pregnancy test. I'm not even sure why. I had felt a little nauseous at work one night and I knew I might be drinking a lot over the weekend. So after work on August 20, I stopped at Shaw's and bought a pregnancy test. I slept for a few hours, letting my urine concentrate and then peed on the stick. Of course I assembled it wrong so it showed nothing. I slept again for a few more hours, assembled the stick right and saw POSITIVE. I almost shit myself. My first reaction was to smile. Then I hopped in my car, drove to CVS and bought five more tests, all different brands just to be sure. They were all positive. I took pictures of them all. Pat came home a few hours later. We were heading up to Canton for a cousins night (my parents were away) and as we were getting ready, I said, "by the way, I found this out today" and showed Pat the stick. He was like okay, wow. And gave me a huge hug.

Monday rolled around and I called the RE's office, not even sure if I should since clearly infertility didn't appear to be the issue. She said to come in Wednesday for bloodwork. My beta was 6202. She scheduled me for more bloodwork and an ultrasound a week later and on September 1, we learned were 6w1d pregnant. We saw a heartbeat at 132 and Dr. P said based on dates, the ultrasound and my beta (22,000+), things looked good. We went back for another ultrasound this past Wednesday, September 8 and measured 7w, 4d with a heartrate of 150.

So we're pregnant. And I feel more attached to this pregnancy than I did with the one we miscarried. I wonder if when my beta was 50 that time, they knew I'd miscarry right away. I sure didn't, but I bet they did. My due date will be sometime in late April. We have another ultrasound in two weeks and I'm petrified I'll miscarry before then, but hopeful we won't. It feels surreal. It's scary, because I can see myself with a baby this time. I find myself daydreaming about a nursery, a jogging stroller, whether it's a boy or a girl. And when I catch myself, I try to stop because I'm afraid of getting my hopes up. Even though they already are ...

It's strange too, because at this point with Brienna, we didn't know anything was wrong. I would be about to have my first ultrasound, which would show she was small. I was elated at that point, I think. We were so excited to be parents and loved Toot so much ... it's almost scary how much you fall in love even though so much can go wrong. I pray every night that this time is different. That we do bring a baby home. The only person besides Pat and I that know is my crazy lady, Pat. And she has a good feeling about it. And I guess I do too. I know Pat does. So, let's hope I keep anxiety and fear at bay and try to enjoy being pregnant again. Despite the fact that I feel like crap. I've never been so constipated in my life and have heartburn on top of it. I'm exhausted and it's miserable. But I'll take it :)

Wondering

I am jealous. Pat told me today that his cousin is pregnant. Great for them, but breaks my heart. She is 24 and has been married less than a year. I want it to be me. When he told me, my first reaction was to cry. Then I thought, "will it ever be us?". But the thing is, it was us. Those first 17 weeks were awesome. We were happily pregnant, loving the fact that we could share this amazing news with everyone. We were so innocent, maybe even naive. I loved being pregnant. Those stupid "25 things you didn't know about me" on Facebook from a year ago? One of mine was I love being pregnant. Despite what I knew, despite the fact that I didn't know if Toot would live, I truly loved it. I had never felt more beautiful and I just loved having this little life inside me. I understood the miracle of it and knew how fortunate I was to be pregnant.

I want that experience again. Granted, it will never be the same. Ever. Even with this latest pregnancy, I didn't get attached or get excited. Despite the fact that I cautiously looked forward to Feb 4, 2011 (the due date), I knew too much about what could go wrong. And sure enough, it did. I hope beyond hope that we are able to get pregnant again. But I also know, I'll never be truly comfortable. I will always wonder about what might be going wrong, or if we'll actually end up with a baby that comes home with us.

The first time, I thought if we made it out of the first trimester, everything would be fine. We waited until we were 14 weeks along before we told anyone. Three weeks later, devastation (or so we thought at the time). The second time, I just held my breath and hoped and then was let down. If it happens again, I wonder if there will be a magic time when I feel okay about things. Somehow I doubt it. I will wonder if there is a lurking chromosomal abnormality that won't get picked up on ultrasound right away. I will wonder about placenta abruption and every other nightmare scenario. I'll wonder about premature birth and the after effects. Nothing will make me feel safe. And in truth, we're never safe. Even if we have a healthy baby, it means nothing. You can't take anything for granted, because you just never know ...

But I want the chance. I'll live with the fear and anxiety because I want to believe that we'll end up with a healthy baby. I want it to be me again. And I'm nervous that it never will ...

Will to Live

Pat is away this weekend and I am petrified that something is going to happen to him. Like crying, can't sleep, palpitations when I think about it petrified. I am pretty sure that he is my reason to live. If you told me today that I had to choose between him and having babies, I would choose him. Without hesitation. He is going to be away for four nights. He's going hiking/camping on a trip that I was originally supposed to go on but all the girls backed out and now it's just Pat and his friend John. It will be much less awkward for all involved without me there, but we'd been looking forward to it for awhile.

I was literally sobbing when he left this morning. I got home from work and we laid in bed for 25 minutes and all I could think was "what if this is the last time?" I can picture myself getting the phone call or a police officer coming to the door. I can picture myself at the cemetery having to say goodbye and it is miserable. It's crippling. I literally do not know how I would survive life without him. I wouldn't want to. And I know that sounds dramatic, but I just don't think I would. He is my best friend and the one person I love more than anyone else in this world. I miss him already and it's only been five hours.

My sister had sent me this quote last week because she said it reminded her of Pat and I. When I first read it, I thought it was cute. And now I read it and think it means he is going to die and these are his last words to me. "Promise me you'll always remember: You're braver than you believe, and stronger than you seem, and smarter than you think." - Christopher Robbin to Winnie the Pooh.

I am hoping that this is all just irrational anxiety. It has to be, right? But how do I snap out of it? How do I stop and say, he will be fine. It feels like a black cloud is following us and it would just be our luck for something to happen. I just want him to come home to me safely. I want to lay next to him, breathe him in and tell him I love him. Over and over and over again. I need him because he is my everything.

Worry

I am overcome with anxiety. I have this distinct feeling that everything I love in life is going to vanish. Or that tragedy lurks in places I can't see ... that something bad is going to happen to everyone I love and I'll be left here to pick up the pieces of a life I don't want.

Pat leaves the house and I'm a wreck. What if something happens to him while he's in the car? What if he's mugged on his way to work? What if a mass murderer knocks on the door when I'm not home and kills him? I went for a run the other day and was petrified the whole time that I was going to run into someone that wanted to rape me. But that he would kill Bailey before he did it. I was practically sprinting, just to get home to safety.

I know I can't live like this, and believe me, I talk to my crazy lady about it. But I only take Ativan at night, because I don't want to be in a fog during the day. I am petrified it will make me less alert and miss the opportunity to stop said tragedy from occurring. Some people lead tragic lives. Part of me says we've had our fair share of tragedy, the other part of me says the black cloud is following me and I have to do everything in my power to avoid getting rained on.

My dad used to have a quote on our refrigerator, because I worried a lot growing up too. It said, "Worry is like a rocking chair. It gives you something to do, but gets you nowhere." And I know that's the case, but when the panic hits, it takes over and all my fears seem so real ...

Missing Brienna

I miss my baby. So much. Sometimes, I can be sitting on the couch, watching TV with Pat and the ache for her is so great, it takes my breath away and I'm reduced to tears ... she's never coming back :( Sometimes I don't think I can go through the rest of my life without her. I long for her and wish with all my heart that she was here with us ... I came across this poem on Becki's blog and hope she doesn't mind that I'm borrowing it:

For a short time, I had your body in my body.

I carried your belly in my belly.

And now, though I have your heart in my heart and feel your soul in my soul,

I will never have your hand in my hand.

I miss your life in my life.

So perfect.

Missing you Brienna Marie. Always and forever.

Painful Reality

I thought I had resigned myself to the fact that this miscarriage was going to happen. I thought I was okay with it, that I could handle it and that everything was going to be okay. I was painfully wrong.

I had been spotting/bleeding since about Monday. I called to check in with the MD like they told me to and was basically just waiting. Friday morning, bleeding seemed to really increase. I was trying to be "normal" and was preparing to go out and run some errands when I figured I'd call the doctor's office. Typically, I call in, ask for the nurse's line and leave a message. Everyone there has been nothing but nice to both Pat and I. This time, however, was different. When I reached the nurse's line to leave a message, I said who I was and that I was calling in as asked to provide an update on the progress of my miscarriage. The woman on the phone paused and then said "um yeah ... this is an INFERTILITY clinic." I paused in disbelief as tears welled up in my eyes and said, "yes, I realize that. I've been there for months and calling to check in for the past two weeks". Without saying a word, she transferred me to someone else so I could leave a message for the nurse to call me back. I was stunned and pissed and amazed that anyone could so easily disregard the fact that a person was having a miscarriage.

After I left a message, I was so sad and teary that I decided to not go out. Which ended up being a very good thing. I laid on the couch and decided to watch a movie. I wasn't feeling very good, and started having some serious cramping. The nurse called back at that point, and I told her how I was feeling, etc. Things were fine. About an hour later, the pain was so bad, I threw up (only other time that's ever happened was in labor). I was doubled over in pain and so nervous, because I had no idea what was supposed to be happening. I was crying at that point and called the nurse back and she assured me this was normal and called in an Rx for Vicodin and Zofran for me. I called Pat at work and he left early to pick them up for me.

The pain had majorly decreased at this point and I went to the bathroom again, because it seemed like the only thing to do. As I peed, I passed these huge blood clots. I was scared, so picked them out of the toilet to examine them. I didn't know what to do, but was crying and just so sad. By the time Pat got home, the pain wasn't enough to need medicine. I felt physically okay. Mentally, I felt so defeated. I knew that wasn't the end of it, but at least knew what had caused the pain. The nurse had told me, if the Vicodin doesn't control the pain, go to the ER and if the pain lasts more than 24 hours, go to the ER. Luckily, that wasn't necessary.

Later that night, as I was wiping from going to the bathroom, I felt more clot that wouldn't come off on the tissue. This is so gross, but it was this huge hunk of tissue that I basically had to pull out of myself because it was stuck there. I have no idea if that was the right thing to do or not ... but I couldn't just leave it there. That seemed like the worst of it, but now I feel some pretty serious cramping again. I'm still passing clots and just passed more tissue. I have no idea if this is normal or not. I'm not doubled over in pain by any means (I'm blogging, so it clearly isn't bad), but this is how things started on Friday and I'm worried about what that means. Should I take some pain meds to stay on top of it? Or will doing that mask the symptoms?

With everything that's happened, I feel like there is a black cloud following me. I'm petrified I'm going to hemorrhage or something. Like if something can go wrong, it will. Because it's me. I'm petrified something is going to happen to Pat or Bailey. I'm just a wreck in general. Part of me says "it's just a miscarriage". The other part of me is devastated. I feel so empty and defeated. Not like when Brienna died, but empty nonetheless. And inadequate. And just sad. I see the doctor again on Wednesday and kinda wish it was tomorrow. I just wish I knew what was normal ... that I knew if this was supposed to be happening.

I wouldn't wish this on anyone. I thought it would be relatively pain-free. How wrong I was ... on so many levels.

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

Pat and I were driving home last night when Somewhere Over the Rainbow (the Israel Kamakawiwo version) came on. As tears started welling up in my eyes, Pat said, "this song makes me sad." I started sobbing at that point and cried almost the whole way home. Sometimes, I just cannot believe that Brienna is gone. That we are surviving this. It's incredible how the pain is still so acute. How I ache for her. We talked so much on the ride home. We talked about getting tattoos, something we've talked about since June 2, 2009 but never did anything about. This time, we really talked about it. We talked about what they'd say, where they'd be. And I think we might do it. Together. Which makes me happy. I want to be marked on the outside, because I am certainly marked on the inside.

I love you and I miss you so much Brienna Marie ...

Hope

I just read a book called After You by Julie Buxbaum ... it was excellent and a part of it really stuck with me. I had a conversation with a friend about hope the other day. How it's a double-edged sword. Hope is the only thing that got me through Brienna's pregnancy ... without, I would have been even more of a mess than I was! Yet is also can be devastating ...

The quote in the book that resonated with me is, "Wanting may be the worst feeling of all, next to hope. But hope is the worst. Hope is the moment before peeing on the negative stick. Hope is the moment before they tell you they can't find a heartbeat. Hope is a setup, a bait and switch, an illusion."

If I could add to that, I would say hope is the moment before they tell you your daughter isn't breathing, that she has no heartbeat. Hope is being convinced she'll be born alive, only to have her be born still. Hope is getting pregnant again, thinking you paid your dues already only to have a miscarriage.

Hope really is a double-edged sword ... it gets you through life, but it can break your heart too.

Grief

Grief doesn't go away ... it changes, yes, but at times it's as raw today as it was forty weeks and five days ago ... If I'm being truly honest, I am broken. Don't get me wrong, I function just fine. And in so many senses, I truly am "ok". I go to work, I clean the house, do the laundry. I even smile and have fun with P. I know that despite it all, I have a good life. But inside, I am broken. On a near daily basis, it feels like my heart is ripped out of my chest, thrown on the ground and stomped on. And every day, I try and pick up the pieces. It is hard. Some days, I am just resigned to the fact that this is my life and I wonder if it ever really happened. Surely I couldn't endure this?! And others, I just hurt. I am constantly transported to the delivery room. I relive that day over and over and over again. I dream about it and wake up sobbing ... I miss Brienna. I ache for her and I want her back in the worst way ...

I found this poem and it made me cry and cry. This is how it feels. How can I call anyone and scream that my daughter is dead? I couldn't do it two days after she died and I certainly can't do it now. P is the only one who knows, so I talk to him. He gets the ebbs and flows, the roller coaster. The ability to be bawling one minute and laughing the next. I alienate myself from everyone else because pretending to be fine is exhausting. Every single relationship I have has changed because Ihave changed. To the core. This is a lonely road. I'm getting there, but it's hard. They say time heals, and I guess to a certain extent, it does. But it doesn't change the fact that I long for my baby. For the little girl she should be becoming ... time can't heal the fact that I am here and she is not.

A Mother's Grief

You ask me how I'm feeling,

but do you really want to know?

The moment I try telling you

You say you have to go

How can I tell you,

what it's been like for me

I am haunted, I am broken

By things that you don't see

You ask me how I'm holding up,

but do you really care?

The second I try to speak my heart,

You start squirming in your chair.

Because I am so lonely,

you see, no one comes around,

I'll take the words I want to say

And quietly choke them down.

Everyone avoids me now,

Because they don't know what to say

They tell me I'll be there for you,

then turn and walk away.

Call me if you need me,

that's what everybody said,

But how can I call you and scream

into the phone,

My God, my child is dead?

No one will let me

say the words I need to say

Why does a mothers grief

scare everyone away?

I am tired of pretending

as my heart pounds in my chest,

I say things to make you comfortable,

but my soul finds no rest.

How can I tell you things

that are too sad to be told,

of the helplessness of holding a child

who in your arms grows cold?

Maybe you can tell me,

How should one behave,

who's had to follow their child's casket,

watched it perched above a grave?

You cannot imagine

what it was like for me that day

to place a final kiss upon that box,

and have to turn and walk away.

If you really love me,

and I believe you do,

if you really want to help me,

here is what I need from you.

Sit down beside me,

reach out and take my hand,

Say "My friend, I've come to listen,

I want to understand."

Just hold my hand and listen

that's all you need to do,

And if by chance I shed a tear,

it's alright if you do to.

--Kelly Cummings

I love you Brienna Marie ...

Blahhhhh

I think I've become socially awkward. I so fear a surprise "we're pregnant!" from one of our friends that I just don't go out anymore. I know people might say that's no way to live, but I can't help it. P and I were thinking of seeing if friends of ours wanted to grab dinner tonight. And it was my idea until I thought "what if they're pregnant?" and then I would need to leave immediately and it just would not be good. I don't want to live this way ... but it's safer than being taken by surprise and not having my game face on.

I so wish I was pregnant. I need to run 10 miles this weekend and laid in bed all morning thinking "if I was pregnant, I'd have an excuse not to run" ... now, I'm just lazy and wishing I could do nothing all day. Can I blame Clomid? It seems reasonable, right? I also wonder if I'm depressed and debating calling Dr. M again ... she's awesome, and I don't want to need medicine, but if it means not living like this perhaps it's for the best. I think at this point, I'd do it more for P than for myself. It must suck for him to have a miserable wife. Poor guy.

New Day, New Attitude

Ok, so it's a new day and I feel a little bit better. The sun was out all day today, so B and I went to the beach and I think it's just what I needed - P is skiing, I was at the beach. I love New England! I am still majorly bummed, but I don't hate the universe and I can see that things aren't really as terrible as I made them out to be yesterday. I do wish Bri.enna was here though. And I do wish we were pregnant :( I guess I just have to be positive and hope that this is the month.

Hope

Brienna taught me about the power of hope. I constantly look back to June 2 and am amazed at how hopeful we remained. I was smiling all day, hopeful that we would have time. That Brienna would be born alive. I look back and cannot believe how calm I appeared on the outside. The pictures of me that day are almost happy-looking. In a way, it makes sense. I was about to give birth! In and of itself, that is an amazing accomplishment. Despite the fear and uncertainty, we were hopeful. All day. We remained hopeful up until that fateful minute when they told us Brienna didn't have a heartbeat.

It would be easy to feel betrayed by that hope, yet we clung to it. And still do. I cling to the hope that Brienna didn't suffer. I hope that some day, we will be reunited again. That I will get to hold her, kiss her, hug her and love on her in ways I didn't get to here on Earth.

Brienna taught me about the power of hope ... it's a lesson I am glad I learned.