One Lovely Blog Award

Thanks to Jill at Footprints on our Hearts for nominating me for the One Lovely blog award. Jill's blog has been a great source of encouragement and support in the months since we lost Asher and Evan. Many other blogs have helped me, too. I am very grateful for the online babyloss community. It's so helpful to know that I'm not alone!

So without further ado, here are the rules of this award:

1. Accept the award and post it on your blog with the name of the person wo has granted the award and his/her blog link.

2. Pay it forward to 10 other bloggers that you have newly discovered.

3. Contact those blog owners and let them know they have been chosen.

And here are the lovely ladies whose blogs I've nominated. Some are relatively new finds, some are blogs I've followed since the beginning of our journey. I am thankful for all of them, and many more than are listed.

• Kerry @ Our New Normal 
• Stephanie @ Carried Through Grief 
• Trisha @ Such a Short Time - Such a Long Road 
• Laura @ My World 
• Courtney @ Cloudy With A Chance of Hope 
• Beth @ Little Bluebirds Fly (Beth has since moved to a private blog, but you can find some great pre-e info here, and instructions to access her new place)
• Christy @ Almost A Mother 
• Ashley @ Nolan's Story 
• Betsey @ Too Beautiful: Living After Losing Olivia 
• Ciaran's mommy @ All the Little Ponies

Talking about my kids

Several weeks ago I met up with a new and dear friend who lost her baby daughter around the same time we lost Asher & Evan. Of course we instantly connected over our losses. It was wonderful to see her again.

As we walked and talked, various circumstances and details surrounding our babies, and losses, came up over, and over, and over again... which is only natural when talking to another babyloss mom. But it struck me, because we weren't specifically talking about our children or our losses the whole time. We would chat about something entirely different—HGTV, the park we were in, food... and our grief wove in and out of the conversation, naturally. Neither of us felt the need to qualify any of our statements, or to dance around the subject. I cannot have that kind of conversation with anyone else in my life except someone who has lost a child. It was such a gift to talk in that way. To fully acknowledge what we've been through, how it affects our every breath... and not worry that the listener will recoil or get uncomfortable.

And it also made me sad, because what we were doing was simply talking about our kids. Like any parent, one's children come up often in conversation. We were just a couple moms chatting about life. But it's only with other babyloss moms that it is socially acceptable to casually mention our (dead) children. When I speak with others I probably only mention Asher & Evan 1 out of every 10 times they cross my mind.

I wish I could describe how freeing it was, how good it felt to talk this way. For a short time, I felt almost "normal."

A Long, Random Post on a Friday Evening

I received three comments yesterday when I posted a link to the August 19th Day of Hope site. Two of them I appreciated very much, but the first one pictured above gave me a weird reaction. It's from a close family member who is normally very thoughtful and careful about communication.

When I think of Evan and Asher, I get sad.

I'm sure she meant it in the best way possible, but it honestly put me in a funk from the time I read it. Like, "Yeah, and...?" Does she avoid thinking of Asher & Evan because they make her sad? Is she saying I shouldn't have brought this up because it's sad?

I was very confused by her comment, especially because she is someone who weighs her words so carefully. Was she trying to empathize? I still don't get it at all.

Also, it makes me so, so sad that my children make people sad. I don't need anyone to remind me that it is a sad subject. I have spent more than enough hours sobbing to be well aware. In fact, I spend a great deal of energy trying to remember of them in ways that are less sad. I also don't need anyone to remind me that my speaking of the boys makes people uncomfortable. I am keenly aware that it makes people uncomfortable, and I am constantly fighting an internal battle over how often to mention them and what to say. I already weigh every word for fear of causing awkwardness. I hate that I have to worry about that, and I don't feel like I should have to. And so, this comment irritated me. Hmmph.

Well that's my vent for tonight.

:::

This evening has been tough. I've had the whole night to myself. Any time I am alone for some time my grief tends to resurface, especially when I'm at home. The silence is deafening. A constant reminder of what is missing. The sounds and chaos of two baby boys. Sweet baby noises as they sleep. Even the crying that would certainly frustrate me at times. How I wish to hear those things.

When I feel overwhlemed by grief I often cope by going through their things, holding their blenkets and hospital bracelets. But tonight I just did not want to do it. I don't want that stuff, I want them. It's a hole that nothing can fill.

:::

Tomorrow I get to see a friend from out of town and her new baby! I'm excited to meet him, but I know it will be tough. It always is. I hope I can focus on my happiness for her, rather than the ache inside me.

Thankful Thursday

For Mother's Day my friend D sent me a Mother's Day card. It would have been more than enough that she remembered me, and even took the time to find an appropriate card (several people have told me how hard it is to find a Mother's Day card for a BLM, which I understand, but I also appreciate the extra effort). But she did more than that. She crocheted two tiny little hats and two precious little blankets in honor of the boys.

When Asher & Evan were born, the nurses found cute little knit hats and blankets for them to wear. Someone I didn't know had taken the time to make those tiny little things for my boys. It touched me so much that someone else thought of me, and other women delivering very premature babies with nothing for them to wear. The grace of that gift was immeasurable. Those blankets and hats are some of my most treasured possessions. When I need to be with my boys I hold the blankets, and feel their softness. It's as close to them as I can get.

I am so thankful for D, and her thoughtfulness with this gift. I am eager to send the blankets on to the hospital, so they can be given to another family. I hate to think of anyone going through the same thing I did, but sadly I know that it happens. And I hope these blankets from a dear friend will provide a tiny bit of comfort to someone who needs all the grace they can get.

Trust and Trying Again

I spent a great evening with one of my very best friends last night. What was meant to be dinner after work turned into a 4-hour-long gabfest about everything from faith to poverty to poop (seriously). It was so, so good for my heart.

My friend M and her husband are planning to start trying to get pregnant in the near future. I am so thrilled for them, and excited! I was also so happy that she gave me some advance warning. She had the discernment to know that I would be more prepared to react happily (and appropriately) if I knew it was coming.

Today is a slow-ish day for me at work (where did that come from??) and so I've found myself perusing new blogs, including babyloss blogs that I haven't seen before. And thinking. Thinking about "trying again." Trying to have more children. The idea is both exciting and terrifying with a capital T. The stories out there in blog world are not always cherry and happy and "of course the next time will be better." They are real, and hard, and blunt reminders that not everyone gets a happy ending. I find myself pulled between a desire to throw caution to the wind and Just Do It (insert Ni.ke logo here), and a desire to plan everything out, get my affairs in order, and go about things very methodically and slowly. There is no part of me that DOESN'T want to try again. My longing for children on this earth is too strong. Depiste the statistics and the possibility that I may have to endure the same horrible outcome, I can't silence this desire to be a mother to a living child.

I told J last weekend that I am ready to start talking about trying again. I am by no means ready to actually DO anything about it, but I am ready to start the process of, well, processing. I'm the type of person that has to hash everything out, so I imagine there will be many long conversations, many tough conversations. I need to be realistic here. I need to find a balance between realism and hope.

So, I told J I am ready, and I wanted him to know that, but that HE could let me know when he is ready as well. The ball is in his court. He didn't say anything that day. He hasn't said anything since. We have plenty of other issues going on right now, so I would not be surprised if it was quite some time before he is ready to talk. But it's out there.

And all the while, I know God is whispering in my ear, "Do you trust Me??" Because that's all it comes down to. That is all I can control in this whole situation. My life is not my own. All I can do is trust. I say "all," but it is a big "all." And it is so hard to do. But the more I reflect the more I realize that it is ALL I need to do, and all I can do, and it is good enough.

But I am still scared. Lord, help me to trust You more!

Friends

I am so thankful for my friends, and the ways they have loved and supported me through this experience. I am also thankful that they keep pursuing me lately while I'm in a decidedly antisocial phase. Melissa calls regularly, just to check in. BJ is so good at knowing what I need at any given moment, whether it's a funny YouTube video, or some heartfelt encouragement. Michelle emailed the other day to see if I want to get together. Michelle, who has a newborn at home, is thinking of me. How humbling that is!

I spent some time with Katie last night, and we mostly chatted about lighter topics, and the cuteness of her new puppy. But as I was leaving, she told me that she really want to hear about my boys sometime, whenever I want. And she told me that she considers them her adopted nephews. Well, of course I lost it completely. It brings me so much comfort and JOY to have others mention my boys, without my bringing it up. I feel so blessed whenever someone tells me that they want to hear about them. I can't even explain how much it means to me.

Thankful

This weekend was good. So good for my soul. BJ came to visit us, and it was so wonderful to see her. We didn't do all that much—but it felt so good to be in the company of friends all weekend. I mean, hanging out with J, BJ, and M all evening is quite a luxury for me!

BJ was such a calming presence all weekend. She cooked us dinners, kept us entertained, and had so many wise and loving things to say. We shared pictures of the boys with her, as well as the objects in their room. The three of us (J, BJ and I) had a long talk about what J and I feel we really need, or any needs that aren't being met. The only thing we came up with is a break, and time away. As much as we truly appreciate being surrounded by friends and family, we are both feeling the need to break away from everything, at least for a short time. Part of that need involves being away from the house, away from all things familiar, all reminders of the crappiness of that last two months. Part of it means not having to talk to multiple people every day about my reproductive health. We had both kind of written of the idea in our heads, because we certainly can't go on vacation in the near future. But BJ made the very good point that if God wants us to have something like that, He will provide and bless us. We could approach our bosses and ask for unpaid time this summer, or something. If this is something that is really important for our healing, and God will bless us in that.

J and I talked some more about the idea last night. We need to spend time praying about it, and figuring out if it is really something that God would have us do. Then, the scary part of asking for time off after I've just been off for eight weeks! Yikes! We'll see.

Anyways, the weekend was good, and I still feel pretty good today. I know there will be bad days and good days, but it sure is nice to at least have hope that today will be good.

I see the kidney doctor this afternoon. Really, really hoping this doesn't mean another awkward "how is the baby?" question from them. That happened on Friday at my OB appointment, of all places, and I don't know how much more I can take. I sent in my patient registration, and indicated that I have two deceased children, so if anyone takes the time to read anything, maybe this appointment will work out better. Sigh. Oh, my OB visit went well, and I have lots of info and thoughts about it, but that's for another post.

My Post on The Bump

Here is what I posted on The Bump, letting the ladies there know what happened. I felt so raw when I wrote this. It still rips my heart out to read it, even thought I'm the one who wrote it.

The women on The Bump were incredibly helpful and supportive throughout my pregnancy. More than 130 people responded to this post to offer their condolences and prayers. I was so touched to receive so much love and support from people I don't even know in real life. That will always mean a lot to me, and so I wanted to preserve the original post here.

Hi everyone,

Warning in advance that this is a sad post, but I want all my Bump friends to know what has happened. I never thought I would be the one writing a post like this.

You may remember that about two weeks ago (at 21 weeks) I posted about swelling I was experiencing. Well, I had to go to the doctor's office over lunch anyway, so I asked them to check my blood pressure, just in case. It was 178/120 (yikes). I was immediately told to lie down, and call my husband for a ride to the hospital.

Once in the hospital, I was given IV meds to prevent seizure, and blood pressure meds. The doctors did many lab tests over the next several days to rule out other problems, and then diagnosed me with severe early-onset pre-eclampsia. I wasn't feeling that bad, considering, but my labs showed otherwise. I had 10 GRAMS of protein in my urine (anything over 300 mg is considered a lot). The docs explained that I was very sick, and my situation could become life-threatening at any time, with little warning.

DH and I were faced with the very difficult reality that our babies were not going to make it. My pre-e would have to hold steady and be managed for at least another 2 weeks to give them any chance of survival whatsoever. The risks to my health/life during that time far outweighed the benefits to the babies. Basically, if we waited any longer the risks to my life only would go up, while the outcome would probably not change for the babies. On top of it all, one of our boys was a few weeks behind in size. After hearing all of the risks/numbers/facts, and lots and lots (and LOTS) of tears and anguish, we made the difficult choice (not really a choice at all) to deliver the babies.

Asher Love and Evan Love were born early on Wednesday, December 16th. The delivery was somewhat dramatic, but overall not as bad as I feared it would be. Both boys lived for only a few moments, but we cherish every second we had with them. A kind photographer came and took a few pictures, and our parents and pastor were there to surround and support us.

Words cannot express the emotions I am going through right now. I know each day will get better, but I miss my sons so deeply. We are very blessed to have tons of support from family, friends, and church. The whole thing feels so surreal, and I honestly don't know how I'm still standing,. The only thing getting us through is the hope we have in Jesus, and that we will will see our boys again someday. I have to imagine that He took them to save them from far worse pain in life. I know His strength is carrying me through, because I feel so weak.

My pre-e symptoms immediately began to clear up after the delivery, it really was incredible. Only as I recover am I realizing how bad I actually felt. This is confirmation that we did what we had to do.

If you're still reading at this point, thank you, and thanks for your prayers and thoughts at this time. I would not wish this experience on anyone, but my thoughts are with anyone else who has experienced a loss.

I will probably be signing off of The Bump for a while, except for maybe the Loss board, but wanted to let you all know how much I have appreciated your support and advice during my pregnancy. I hope to be back sooner than later, once life gets back to normal. Thanks again for reading, I really appreciate it.

Becky