Life is Good

I'll stand back up. Those words from the Sugarland (written on the right here) really hit home today. I have actually been feeling normal again. Sure, I think of my baby everyday, and she is always on my mind, but so are my other kids. That is because I love them. That's because I'm a mom.

For the most part, I have been feeling pretty good. Part of me feels extremely guilty for that. I feel like I should be grieving, but I'm not that kind of person. I don't dwell on things. I'm a roll-with-the-punches kind of person. I actually walked by the baby section at the store the other day and didn't feel like dying. That was big for me. Just a few weeks ago I couldn't even look in the direction of that section. Babies still bother me a bit, girls more than boys. I still notice pregnant ladies, but I don't want to dig their eyes out anymore so that's a plus! :)

Someone on babycenter recently said, "I can get on with my life without another baby...but there will always be this hole that can only be filled by one thing." That is exactly how I feel. I'm getting on with my life. I actually beginning to enjoy life again, but there is a hole that will always be there. Hanging pictures of the kids over the weekend I thought, 'I should hang one of Brenna, too' and I felt cheated. The other day I caught myself saying I have two kids, when I know in my heart I have three. When I was at the doctors the nurse asked how my baby was, and I said, "I don't have a baby" and I felt like I was lying. I do have a baby, she's just not here.

While I was in the hospital I was laying there thinking to myself, 'Why did this happen. What am I supposed to learn from this?' I knew I had to find the lesson in it all. I kept thinking, 'How can I make the good come out of this'. I still don't have the answer to that, but I hope that I will find it. I truely believe that everything happens for a reason. For the life of me I don't know why this happened, but I think I just need time, and one day I will realize why. I am determined to learn that lesson. If I don't my baby will have died in vain, and I won't let that happen.

Babies On My Mind

Today I had a check up with the doctor. Of course we talked about when/if I can have another baby. I'm scarred to death to have another, but at the same time I'm scarred to death not to. I read on another blog a mother described feeling "one short" when it came to her children. That is exactly how I feel. When hanging pictures over the weekend I felt like I was doing something wrong when I didn't have Brenna's. I felt like something was missing. I think I will always feel that way, and the thought of having that nagging feeling in the back of my mind for the rest of my life is horrible. I can't say I want to replace her by having another baby, but I truely feel in my heart I was supposed to have another child. I don't want to look back 10 years from now and hate myself for not trying to have another baby. The doctor said it was very risky, and if I was his daughter he'd tell me not to do it, but it's not out of the question. What happened to me was so rare none of the doctors at the hosptial has ever seen it or even read/heard of it. Basically, I almost had an ectopic pregnancy, but the baby implanted just outside the fallopian tube. That part of the uterus isn't very strong or "elastic" (for lack of a better word) and it stretched until it broke. My doctor (who I love by the way) told me that there is no guarantee that implantation won't happen there again. He said I would be very high risk, but it's not out of the question. I can't imagine going through this again, or putting my family through it either. Someone suggested surrogacy, and I am totally open to the idea, but how do you ask someone to carry your child? I can't even ask someone to help me when I'm recovering from surgery, how can I ask them something like this!?! It's so frustrating when you have all the "ingredients" (egg, sperm) to make a baby but nothing to "cook" it in (uterus)! Why did this have to happen to me? I ask myself this all the time. I hope one day I'm holding my precious little baby, and then I know the answer.

I hate my body

I hate my body. A lot of women look in the mirror and say that because they don't like their fat thighs or saggy boobs. I say that because my body didn't keep my baby alive. My body and I have been having a battle lately. It's been more than a month since my surgery and I still have pain. I expected to be feeling much better now, and I'm not, and I hate my body for it. It's a very strange to want to do something, and you body won't let you do it. I feel as though my body betrayed me at the most important time. When I needed it the most it let me down. Another life was depending on me to keep it alive, and my body just wouldn't do it. Instead it broke open, almost killed me, and made it impossible for my little one to survive. I often think why couldn't this have happend just a few weeks later, when my baby had a fighting chance. Why couldn't my stupid body have held out for just a little longer? I did everything right during my pregnancy: ate all the right foods, no caffeine, lots of sleep, no sex for three months (dr.'s orders). You name it. My son was a very healthy baby getting a 9.9 out of 10 on his one minute apgar. But my body was 11 years younger then. We got along then. I didn't hate it then. I hate it now. I especially hate it because chances are my body has made it impossible for me to carry another child. My body won't allow me to become a mother again, and I really hate it for that. Maybe one day I will make peace with it, but for now, I really hate my body.

People who understand

Over the last few weeks I've been suprised by the number of people who have experienced the loss of a baby. Just today I found out someone who I've known for the past few years, and who I would consider a friend lost a baby right around the same age as my baby was when she died. There have been several people who told us they lost babies and we had no idea.

I think out of all the people in my life, unfortunately, my stepdaughter most understands how I feel. She lost her mother in an accident when she was 9 years old. Today she is 22, married and has her own child. I think that the bond between mother and child is amazing, and when one of those parts is lost, the pain is unimaginable. You don't expect to outlive your children, there is something unnatural about it. But you also don't expect to lose your parent when you are a young child. I'm not sure which is worse. We are a lot alike. Neither of us is a very emotional person, and we're not big on crying. But that doesn't mean we don't have feelings. The thing I appreciate most about her is that I don't have to tell her how I'm feeling, she already knows. She let's me know she's there if I need her and that's it. I know she's there, but I don't have to talk and explain how I'm feeling or why I'm feeling it. She knows what it's like to have that bond broken. She understands my grief. The funny thing is, it's made our bond stronger. I've always loved her, but I've rarely said it to her. I find myself telling her I love her more often these days.

I've never told anyone this, but right before I went in for surgery I was really scarred. I started thinking of my kids. I remember thinking, "I'm not going to die, God won't take another mom away from J", and I just knew I was going to be alright. And I was, and I will be.

A month already

It was one month yesterday. The day wasn't as horrible as I thought it was going to be. I tried to stay busy. My husband bought me roses which is a rare occurance. The strange thing is we didn't talk about it being one month. My husband hardly ever talks about what happened and never talks about the baby. He still hasn't said her name and I'm beginning to think he never will.

I finally put her memory box away. For those of you lucky enough not to know, when your baby dies the hospital gives you a box to put stuff in and they call it a memory box. I couldn't bring myself to put it away yet. Today I did. That small thing felt like a victory.

Today I had to go to a birthday party. I was doing find until this lady came in with her baby girl. Of course they had to sit by us. I could barely look at that baby, let alone talk to the mother. I was so jealous of her I wanted to jump across the table and hit her. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy for everyone who has a baby, and I don't want to seem like I hate people who have children, because I don't. I'm just so jealous that I don't get to have my baby and they do that it sometimes makes me crazy. Luckily they didn't stay long and were gone after a few minutes. I was so happy because I was looking for a reason to get out of there so I didn't have to look at that adorable baby anymore.

My husband's family reunion is scheduled for my due date. I remember we were talking about wanting to go but not being able to make reservations because we didn't know if the baby would be here yet or not. The other day my husband wanted to know if I made reservations yet, and I told him no. I didn't tell him it's because I can't imagine that I'm going to be feeling very festive at that time. I had planned on showing off my new baby. Instead it will be the first time we will see most of them, and I don't want to have to keep going over it again and again. The worst part is every year they record the births, deaths, and marriages. I can't bear the thought that my baby is going to be on the birth and death page. It just seems so unfair.

If a MAN can have a baby, why can't I?

Ok, NOW I'm bitter. First of all, my day has sucked so I'm already in a pissy mood. Then I watch Oprah and "Thomas" is on there because he is pregnant. Yeah, that rubbed me the wrong way. If God would let Thomas and his wife have a baby, why won't he let me have one? I beginning to see why they say life is not fair.

It's been Four long weeks

It seems like just the other day I lost my baby. I can't believe it's been four weeks since she left. I sometimes wonder if she had been born now would she have had a chance to survive? Is a baby "viable" at 24 weeks? I'm sure her chances would have been better, not great, but a chance compared to 20 weeks. If you're born at 20 weeks your only option is to die.

During these past weeks I've (obviously) thought about my baby every day. I've cried and wondered why did this happen. I've wondered it I did somthing that I was being punished for. Was this my punishment for secretly hoping I could get pregnant even when the doctor said I wouldn't? Was this my punishment for having my doubts when I found out I was pregnant? Was this my punishment because I was disappointed I couldn't drink at Jenna's wedding? I don't think so. I don't think God kills babies to punish the mother. Although, it feels worse than any punishment I could imagine.

The things that just kills me is I always trusted him. I wasn't one of those moms who worried about every little thing. I would read other mother's posts on BabyCenter and think they were going to give themselves heart attacks they way they worried over every little thing. I wasn't one of those moms. Even when my quad test came back with some high results I didn't panic, I trusted Him. Then why take my baby, God? I put her in your hands and you took her from me. I don't think I will ever understand why you did that to me! I know she's better off in heaven, but I'm selfish and I wanted more time with her. I wanted to watch her grow up, and I wanted to really get to know her. I wanted my husband, and children, and family to know her and love her like I did. No one else got to feel her move, no one else got to know her like I did and, yeah, I'm ticked about it. I had plans for her, and they will never come to be. I don't know why it happened. I don't know what the reason is, but I just wish you'd show me. Maybe then I'd stop being mad at you. I still love you, and trust you, but that doesn't mean I like what you did.

Four weeks may seem like a long time, but it's not enought time to heal. It's better, and maybe this is the best it will ever be. I can live with that. I haven't cried in a few days and I feel a little guilty because maybe I'm not sad enough. I don't know why I'm not a total basketcase. That's just not me. I'm not one to fall apart. I had a friend (who ment well) tell me that it just hasn't hit me yet. Yeah, it has. I held my dead baby and saw her in her coffin. Yeah, it's hit me. But, I just deal with things differently. I don't go nuts crying. I prefer to cry when no on is around. I haven't done that in awhile, though.

Tomarrow is my son's birthday. Saturday will be one month since we lost Brenna. I don't know if anyone else will remember. I'm not even sure my husband will. He never talks about her, he hasn't even said her name since she was born. We talk about what happened to me, but never about the baby. I bring her up and talk about her and he listens, but never says anything about her. I think he's just trying to cope and be strong for me. He tends to be more emotional for me.

Uh! This is hard. I never, ever though I would be remembering the anniversary of my baby's death.