Hunter's Christmas Ornament

'Tis the Season

Last year I didn't put up my Christmas tree. Christmas is a time of year I always look forward to. It's always been a big occasion. I'm starting to think maybe even more so than other families. My mother in law died just after Christmas and in her last letter to me she wished I would feel the Joy of Christmas for all of my days. She knew that it brought something special out in me. Family, giving, good food, and togetherness.

I know that I am the way that I am because of my grandma, Nuni. She pushed it on all of us, you couldn't help but succumb to it, absorb it in your blood. Every detail was perfect. The tree was a work of art. She took ordinary things and turned them into ornaments/decorations. Some people may look at her tree and think it was odd. Beautiful but odd. She used lace and pine cones, white lights and cinnamon. It was her. Each present she wrapped, you didn't want to open. You wanted to keep it on a bookshelf and enjoy it all year. She passed away the day after I found out I was pregnant with Hunter, on Thanksgiving weekend, last year. My family was torn at the seams with grief, she was such a integral part of our small but close knit group. My pregnancy seemed oddly coincidental. Our loss was replaced with new life and new beginnings. It was not planned so it felt like a gift. One last gift.

That year I didn't celebrate Christmas. I didn't put up a tree, I didn't wrap a present or send out a card. It seemed wrong and my normal excitement didn't come. Instead I put all of my focus on next year. Next year I would have my own family and a new baby to see our Christmas tree for the first time. I wondered what he/she would do the first time he saw the pretty lights and I looked forward to sharing our baby with family.

So now Christmas is around the corner and I have no baby in my arms. Nuni is still gone and I'm unsure what to do. Part of me wants to hibernate in a shell and wait for it to pass. Part of me wants to move on and put up my tree. I desperately hope I'll be pregnant soon. I need some inspiration. I need a fresh start. I need something to work out, to succeed. Everything is dieing around me. Everything is turning upside down. This isn't how it should be.

Facing a wall

I'm right back to where I started. Messing with my cycle got me nowhere and just played with my head. I got my period on the first day I started my ovulation testing. So yes, that would be 3 periods in a little over a month and I'm now back to ground zero. I start my testing again this week. I saw my ob this past Wednesday and was given the OK to go ahead with conceiving. Now, I wait. I desperately want a positive the first time around, but doesn't everyone?

The doc was very relaxed, almost too relaxed for my liking. I was there for business, I was stiff, rigid and almost emotionless. I wanted facts, written in stone and handed to me. That's not what I got. I got, "It was a fluke" "It won't happen again". How can he say that? He can't for sure, and he shouldn't. This very well could happen again. Sure the chances are slim, but it COULD happen again. I told him it didn't matter if it was a fluke, I was going to be a nervous wreck. He assured me, that at any time if I had a bad feeling, needed reassurance, for any reason at all, I could come in, I could see my baby. That was what I needed at the very least and he gave that to me.

This pregnancy will be very different in many ways. I've lost my innocence. I can not get that back no matter how hard I try. I can not trick myself, I can not undue what's been done. I refuse however to let it beat me down. I refuse to detach myself from my next pregnancy. For me and Hunter, that's all we had. No one else knew him but I carried him for 7 months and he was a part of me. To miss out on that for my next because I am too scared to face the possibility of losing another would be unfair. I'd only be hurting myself.

Negative comments will be pushed aside and dealt with straight on. I owe no one nothing and myself every little joy I can possibly receive. I don't want your advice because you don't know. I don't need your guidance because you haven't been there.

I stand here, facing a wall. The world passing me by. Nothing else matters. I have stopped. I am being, all else is lost. Are you talking? I am not listening. I do not feel, I do not touch. I do not cry, I do not laugh. Outward appearance is a facade, it is not real. I am worthless, meaningless and uncaring. I am facing a wall - waiting.

The Next Step, our second child

I came off the birth control mid pack to try and reroute my monthly cycle. This way I can conceive end October / early November without having my due date fall on August 3rd again. If my calculations are correct, and we conceived immediately, the due date would fall on 7/11, ironically close to my mother in law Shirley's birthday on 7/10. She's passed on, so it would make the child's birthday even more meaningful since it hurts me and Pat a lot that she is not here to experience this with us. She would have been so happy and would have been a great grandma. If we do not conceive right away... it's ok. I just did not want to have the due date be the same as last time, which it would have been if I did not try and change the course.

The next step is the pre conception visit; something I did not experience the first time around. They will make sure I am in tip top shape. I never stopped my pre natals, so this baby will have the much needed Folic Acid from the very beginning. My appointment is scheduled for 9/30 at which time I hope to discuss the game plan for our impending pregnancy. I've been advised this pregnancy will be high risk (only b/c every mother with a fetal loss is automatically high risk regardless of the circumstances).

On a side note, a dear friend of mine called yesterday. After 3 years of trying to conceive, she is pregnant. Her due date is in April. Hopefully going through this together will bring back the excitement and innocence of pregnancy that every women deserves but I have lost. While talking with her, I found myself saying all the "naive things" someone would normally say. Hopefully I can convince myself to actually feel this way again and be more optimistic.

6 months

It's already around the corner. The six month mark will be next month, it seems like yesterday. Six months means a lot to me. For one, we have the ok to try for another, something I want so badly. Something has happened over the past months. During my grieving I realize now that I feel closer to Hunter than I ever had during my pregnancy. He is my son and I can never replace him. Of course the need to have a baby in my arms is real and unrelenting, my intentions are not to replace Hunter. He was and always will be my first. Even though he is gone, I have a strong need to get his approval or maybe the approval from others to move on. Or maybe I just need to know deep down that I am ready, I need to hear it from my own self conscious. I know it's what I want and I think I'm ready. I'm scared but I'm ready.

Comforted

My younger brother Rob called today. He was trying to ask me something and fighting to find the right words, questioning whether he should even ask me at all. I could tell. He said it was about Hunter and I told him to just tell me.

He is an incredible artist, he hasn't done anything in a while, his life has made that challenging lately but he's really amazing. He saw the pictures of Hunter awhile ago and asked me if he could draw a picture of him.

This is a perfect example of how people think they must treat a grieving mother. They assume that the mere mention of our dead child will upset us when in fact it is quite the opposite. We want our family, friends, coworkers, to acknowledge the life of our child. So what my brother has done today is a great gift. He's not only acknowledged my son, he's offered to memorialize him forever in the best way he can. Art.

I have few physical mementos of Hunter and they are very precious to me. Him doing this, is giving me more of what I love so much. And I love him very much for this.

The Insensitive Ones

I had a bad day yesterday. I had to listen to a coworker (who is as far along as I was when Hunter died) complain that she now has biweekly appointments instead of monthly ones. She complained that it was a waste of time, unnecessary and stupid. I then heard the rest of the department jump in (she is their superior so they say whatever she wants to hear) and actually validate her complaints. I fumbled for my ipod and headphones to block out the conversation but it was too late. The damage was done.

I was told the same thing at my last appointment before Hunter died. That my appointments too would now be biweekly. To me this meant that I was closer, that I would get to hear my baby's precious heartbeat twice instead of once a month which thrilled me. Even in my "ignorant and blissfull" days of pregnancy, I looked forward to this next stage of my pregnancy. But I never had a biweekly check up. I argue now that all pregnancies should be treated as high risk. A book I'm reading now, Trying Again by Ann Douglas and John R. Sussman, M.D. questions why the medical communtity won't give you the "High Risk" level of care unless you have a baby die. As if you must have the one "freeby". Shouldn't every life deserve that level of care, the book said.

So while this woman is complaining about too much care, I'm wishing I could have had more care, maybe Hunter would have survived. Now I know that I've posted earlier that there was nothing anyone could have done; I still have my doubts and can't help but think "what if".

I don't wish that her baby would die so she could understand. I do wish she understood enough to keep these thoughts to herself. And I do wish she would be more sensitive speaking about such matters in front of me. I tell myself over and over... They just don't understand. I'm just still hurt.

Waiting

"Life is not about waiting for the storms to pass...it's about learning how to dance in the rain."

I left my shrink appointment today feeling worse not better. My raw emotions were brought to the surface... again. Not that that's a bad thing, but when you get back into the swing of things, you are forced to wear your happy face. Then all of a sudden reality crashes back in and I'm left feeling the same way I did when I first found out my baby died.

I left the appointment feeling out another $25 bucks ($300 for my insurance company) and still without answers. After receiving an email from another baby loss momma in my free online support group, I got the best answer I could get. This will never go away. This is my life now and I just have to learn to cope with it. As I learn to cope, it will get better. Right now, I am just trying to find the best ways for ME to cope and this could be different for everyone. If coping means seeing a shrink once a week to talk about things, then fine. That's just not what I'm sure about yet. Time will tell.

Regrets

When Pat and I held Hunter for the first time, it felt like holding a doll. It was a very unreal moment. He didn't feel like mine, and I didn't get too upset. I cried a little. But I cried more before and after. This was the only visual I had of him. Everything else was the idea of him. When he would be here, where he would sleep, what he would wear, how I would feed him. When the doctor's told me he died, all of these thoughts died with him. The baby I held didn't really exsist. I wish I was more prepared. When I found out he passed, I wanted him out. I wanted to get it over with. The sooner I could get home, out of the hospital that had killed my baby, the better. That sounds absolutely awful, but honestly I didn't know what to think, I was infuriated and in absolute disbelief. At first I didn't even know if I wanted to see him. I didn't know if I could handle it emotionally. Is this what parents did? Did they hold and see their dead babies? Hospitals should be better prepared to inform parents of their rights in this situation. I have pictures of Hunter that the nurses took, but I could have taken my own. No one told me that. I could have asked for his foot prints, no one told me that either. I was in a cloud, everything around me was in slow motion yet happening so fast. I didn't know how I was supposed to act or what I should say. They handed me a brochure. I didn't read it until after I came home. We held Hunter for 20 minutes. Then we gave him back. We didn't know what else to do.

The Shrink

I can't go on and on complaining about how awful my life is right now and how hard it is to face every single situation. Each time someone asks me for baby pictures or how's the baby? Each time I see a newborn at the grocery store or brought into the office by a new proud parent. I can't help but think that right now, I should have a healthy baby boy. I can't help it when everything I do, I think what would I being doing if Hunter was here.

I can't do that to my friends and family. But I can't pretend it didn't happen either. I still need to deal with it. My future child deserves the right to have parents who are 100% commited to him/her instead of still trying to cope with the grief of losing a past child.

So I finally made the move. I think I've coped very well so far. I have a great support system, but they've done all they can do. Now I'll just pay a professional.

My due date was August 3rd. I thought about writing that day but honestly just couldn't bring myself to do it. Denial was my best coping method. It was another milestone that I had been dreading and now it's past and I'm not sure I feel any different... better or worse.

Hunter's Pictures

I decided to share Hunter's pictures with my family yesterday. I sent out an email letting everyone know that I had the pictures and if they'd like to see them to let me know.

At first, I couldn't look at the pictures, the first time I did look I started sobbing. Each consecutive time after that got easier and easier and now I have to look at them every day as often as I can. Now instead of seeing the sick baby, I see the healthy child he could of been. Once I got past the initial shock, I noticed he had my nose and my husband Pat's shaped face/jawbone. It makes it harder because instead of seeing a sick dead baby, I see our child and what we lost. This gave me the need to share the pictures with everyone else. I have the same need to share our creation as any other parent of a healthy baby would.

It was somewhat difficult because I was scared of rejection. How would I feel if they didn't want to see him? I am now immune to the pictures. I love them, they are my most valuable possession but my family may need more time, they may feel the way I felt in the beginning. But I have to share them, or at least let them make the decision. I can't make the decision for them, he's their grandson, nephew, cousin etc. Maybe they really want to see him.

Time will tell. So far the response has been good. I sent the pictures to several people yesterday. A good friend thanked me for sharing, he is beautiful she said.

Sense of calm

I talked to the doctor today about my final results. The infection had set up camp in the umbilical cord where the doctor had noticed an abnormality (it was very narrow). The infection was at it's most concentrated place right there. It was explained to me that the infection had caused the abnormality, the restricted flow in the cord and the lack of amniotic fluid. So the original guess that the placenta was not functioning is incorrect. The difference is very important to me. My body did not in fact fail me. Instead it was an outside cause. Something that was unpreventable, untreatable and very rare. Something that will never happen again. We still don't know what kind of infection it is. They ran tests for every common possibility and results were all negative.

If Hunter had been born, he would not have survived, that is certain. I feel blessed that he passed in a place where he was comfortable, closest to me and in the home he had been so peaceful for 7 months. How tragic would it have been to be ripped from his loving environment and thrown into a NICU, where he'd have been poked and prodded only to be cursed with the same destiny. So while I don't believe that anything is meant to be, (how could an infection be meant to be?) I still believe that given the circumstances this was the best way he could have left us. And if anything, I had 2 weeks in the hospital which I felt closest to him. All of my attention was on him and his well being.

Results

The final results are in and I got my period. I woke up this morning with the blood and felt a unique sense of freedom. I was free from the Limbo I was living in for the past 8 weeks. It felt like the beginning of a journey that would soon heal me. I shouldn't make it sound like it cured my inner grief... but I did feel a slight weight lifted from my shoulders.

I waited all day for the phone call. I went to the copier with the cell phone in my back pocket in fear I would miss the call in the split second I was away from my desk. At about 3 pm I was on the phone with a customer and my cell rang. The customer was in the middle of explaining something otherwise I would have excused my self and asked to call her back. Instead I froze and wanted so badly to slam the phone down and take my call. No such luck.

I listened to the voicemail which said results are in and that she would like to talk to me TOMORROW. Because she wants to give me her undevoted attention. I couldn't help but think that if I were in her place I would give special attention to someone in my situation and perhaps call in my free time. But maybe I'm not her only patient going through this? Maybe there are others? Maybe this happens more often? Maybe I'm not so special?

Ok this all doesn't really matter. The most important part of the message came later. "Shanna, I will go over the results with you tomorrow but I can tell you now - that this will never happen to you again".

My poor Hunter. He did nothing wrong and his mother did nothing to him. The beginning of his life was so promising... just like any other baby. He was healthy and so close, he had made it so far.

The Autopsy

I've been so anxious, I'm always on edge and I'm fearing the worst. My doctor said one more day. 5 wks turned into 6 and 6 into 8 and now, one more day. Pathology promises results will be in on Friday morning. Will the results give me what I'm looking for? Will I at least feel some closure? I feel that if the results are inconclusive I will feel even worse... let down again. I'm scared it will be something I could have avoided. Did I eat bad meat? Is it somehow my fault? Can I prevent it from happening again?

In the meantime I feel my body is waiting too. It's been over 5 wks since I stopped bleeding after birth and still no period. I can't help but feel it's my body telling me it's not ready to move on. The cycle of death lingers on and I am reminded of it every day.

Will I be upset when this is all over? I am still preoccupied with everything Hunter, all day every day. There are no breaks. So when I have autopsy results and I get my period is it all over? Does that mean I will forget? Or go a day without thinking about him? That too makes me sad. I'm tired of being sad but not ready to be happy.

Missing Angels Bill

Parents of stillbirth babies deserve the right to get a birth certificate. Please sign the petition on the link below to help fight for this cause. While many states have agreed, many have not including Illinois.
http://petitiononline.com/4ourkids/petition.html

For more information on the cause visit:
http://www.missingangelsbill.org

I just want my baby back

I'm feeling very angry today. I try not to be angry because it's not productive. It doesn't do any good and it's no ones fault. I have no one to blame. I just want Hunter back.

Too much information

Today was my 2nd Monday back to work. This week will be a full week. I lucked out on my first week back, we had Friday off for the 4th. It's slow... they're easing me back into things. I spend my spare time googling everything and anything about my loss and my hopeful future pregnancy. Infections, causes for infections, VBACS, risks of VBACS, uterine rupture, estimated due dates. I'm constantly searching for answers but always come up short. I'm missing something. They're aren't answers for everything. There is no answer to why me.

It's scary. I've had complete faith in doctors but now I'm realizing you can't put all your trust in them. You have to watch out for yourself too. You have to question them and their authority. Keep them on their toes. No one knows your body better than yourself and if you don't feel right about it then say something. Just because they're a doctor doesn't mean they know everything. That's my biggest regret.

Why didn't I have this information when I needed it? Why did I insist on living in a bubble for so long?

My Story - Treasure life's simple moments

I wish I would have started this blog long ago. To capture my happy moments, all I have are memories now. Later is better than never and as I go through this journey of grief and healing, I hope maybe one day my future child will read back and see how beautiful their life is. How much it was wanted and hoped for. I'm not a very good writer, so bear with me. Instead of burying my thoughts, fears, sadness, hope and tears, I'm throwing it out there. Therapy... that's what it is.

It has been 1 month, 3 weeks and 3 days since the worst day of my life. A day that will haunt me forever. I lost my first child, my beautiful baby boy, Hunter. It was 6 am and like every morning for the past 2 weeks, the night nurse came in one last time before leaving for the day, to give me my NST (fetal heart monitoring). Today was a big day. I had made it to 28 weeks, a milestone that the doctors had hoped for but not expected. Each day was a milestone in of itself but this was big. I rolled over in a cloud... half awake, half sleeping while the straps were wrapped around my belly. This time was different, the nurse couldn't find the heart beat. Did he move again? The little bugger was now laying sideways after being breach. He had been swimming around like crazy in there. Let's get the doppler, this had happened once before... it seems to work better and once the heart beat is located, I can be strapped in. The nurse came in with her superior... hmm this girl must be new. The older nurse takes control and still can't find a heart beat. The doctor is called in. I'm calm, I can't comprehend that anything is actually wrong. I'm just very anxious. Just find it already! Find it! It's there, I know it is! They bring in a portable ultra sound machine. No heart beat. The doctor tells me "I'm not getting a good look, I'd like to bring you to the ultra sound room for a better view on better equipment". They walk me over and sit me down. In comes the entire staff of doctors. Attendees, Fellows... everyone. "I'm sorry, I don't think we're going to find a heart beat". Sinking, burning, gut wrenching pain. I want to curl up in a fetal position and scream.

Two weeks prior, I had called my ob and told them that Hunter's kicks and jabs were now pats and flutters and I would like to come in. Upon review of the ultrasound I was told I had no amniotic fluid. My husband Pat was on his way. Up until this day, I had a happy carefree pregnancy. I had registered for my baby shower just the day before. I had a stroller, a crib and dresser full of freshly washed clothes ready to go.

I was admitted to one hospital and promptly transferred to another with a 3rd level NICU. I stayed in the intensive care unit for 48 hours. Everyone thought I would have this baby soon. They had NICU doctors come talk to us about risks and what to expect. They wouldn't let me eat in case I had to deliver. They said that I should feel grateful that I listened to my gut feelings... I had saved my baby. I was told that I was in the best place to have a pre term baby in the region. I was in good hands.

I made it through the first 48 hours and was transferred to a normal room with big windows and a private bathroom. This would be my home for a while. My mom flew in at the first mention of delivering. She desperately wanted to be with me at the birth and I desperately needed her support. She spent many days/nights with me and kept my spirits up. There was one good thing that would come of this. When over, I would have my baby.

On mother's day, I was given the greatest gift of all. During my ultrasound, my fluids were normal and the flow in the cord was no longer restricted. I was beaming. Maybe Hunter could make it full term after all.

2 days later all my hopes for Hunter were put to rest. Now all I have are my memories... of my first ultra sound, the moment we were told "it's a boy!", the first morning I felt my little boy's foot on the outside and all the others. I would never take it back. If I could exchange all the pain for losing these precious moments, I could never do it. These were the best days of my life and I'll always treasure them.