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.