About my last post...

I was thinking about my last post the other night and I got to thinking....I really hope I didnt offend anyone.  I started this blog about two years ago as kind of a journal to myself....to get my thoughts and feelings down while going through IF treatment. It became my outlet when our daughter died.  And now...well, I dont get to write as much as Id like but its still my journal.

I dont know how else to describe it, but I feel like our IF journey and loosing our daughter changed me to my core.  During IF my thoughts focused on every pregnant chick and how I felt bitter towards them.  It derailed me as a woman when my body couldnt or wouldnt do the very thing that it was designed to do...and how does one continue to love ones self when your body wont do the very thing it was created to do.  And when we lost our daughter I felt like my body failed me yet again.  But this time it failed our daughter and my husband too.  And how do you even process that???  I mean my baby died in my stomach....the safest place in the world and my baby died!!!  And how can I help but not feel to blame for that???  I mean I understand that I didnt cause her to die....but I couldnt even protect her inside of me???  And how did I not know that she was gone???  I mean my baby dies in my stomach and I dont even have a clue?!?!?!?  What the hell kind of mom am I???  When Bristol died I held on to many quotes that kept me going in my darkest hour...I think the one that I repeated the most was, "eventually there will come a day that isnt as hard as the day before it."  I think the say we lost Bristol was the day my innocence died too.  Or at least my pregnancy innocence (my other innocence died way before that, but thats another story) died that day.  It's sad to say, and I dont think I will ever admit this to D, but I didnt enjoy a moment of my pregnancy with him.  I was too afraid of something going wrong...every twitch, every tingle....could be the last I'd ever feel my baby.

Anyway, I say all of that because I want to explain my last post...I've always been a very emotional person.  Our IF changed me.  Loosing Bristol changed me...made me cherish human life even more and put me on the edge....the edge of everything normal.  And having D has continued this trend......

I cry at random times....I am an IF survivor, a mother to an angel, and I am one of the lucky ones who gets to hold her rainbow!!!!

Motherhood....

I always thought that I was prepared to be a mom, that I knew what it would be like to love a child that grew inside of me...but nothing could have prepared me for how I felt the day of the bombing at the Boston Marathon.  I mean these were families out having sun in what should have been a safe environment...and to have their lives just destroyed in moments....its just something I think of all the time now.  How simple things could turn drastically wrong in the blink of an eye.  I've always been an anxious person and even highly emotional at times but now even news stories will bring me to tears and I feel like Im turning into a nut...I've been wondering if its just my hormones evening out, postpartum depression setting in, or just my new normal...

So I was trolling FB the other day when I came across the following that basically described my feelings to a T....so I guess Im normal after all...

"We are sitting at lunch one day when my daughter casually mentions that she and her husband are thinking of "starting a family." "We're taking a survey," she says half-joking. "Do you think I should have a baby?" 

"It will change your life," I say, carefully keeping my tone neutral. 

"I know," she says, "no more sleeping in on weekends, no more spontaneous vacations." 

But that is not what I meant at all. I look at my daughter, trying to decide what to tell her. I want her to know what she will never learn in childbirth classes. 

I want to tell her that the physical wounds of child bearing will heal, but becoming a mother will leave her with an emotional wound so raw that she will forever be vulnerable. 

I consider warning her that she will never again read a newspaper without asking, "What if that had been MY child?" That every plane crash, every house fire will haunt her. 

That when she sees pictures of starving children, she will wonder if anything could be worse than watching your child die. 

I look at her carefully manicured nails and stylish suit and think that no matter how sophisticated she is, becoming a mother will reduce her to the primitive level of a bear protecting her cub. That an urgent call of "Mom!" will cause her to drop a soufflé or her best crystal without a moments hesitation. 

I feel that I should warn her that no matter how many years she has invested in her career, she will be professionally derailed by motherhood. She might arrange for childcare, but one day she will be going into an important business meeting and she will think of her 
baby's sweet smell. She will have to use every ounce of discipline to keep from running home, just to make sure her baby is all right. 

I want my daughter to know that every day decisions will no longer be routine. That a five year old boy's desire to go to the men's room rather than the women's at McDonald's will become a major dilemma. That right there, in the midst of clattering trays and screaming 
children, issues of independence and gender identity will be weighed against the prospect that a child molester may be lurking in that restroom. 

However decisive she may be at the office, she will second-guess herself constantly as a mother. 

Looking at my attractive daughter, I want to assure her that eventually she will shed the pounds of pregnancy, but she will never feel the same about herself. 

That her life, now so important, will be of less value to her once she has a child. That she would give herself up in a moment to save her offspring, but will also begin to hope for more years, not to accomplish her own dreams, but to watch her child accomplish theirs. 

I want her to know that a cesarean scar or shiny stretch marks will become badges of honor.

My daughter's relationship with her husband will change, but not in the way she thinks. 

I wish she could understand how much more you can love a man who is careful to powder the baby or who never hesitates to play with his child. 

I think she should know that she will fall in love with him again for reasons she would now find very unromantic. 

I wish my daughter could sense the bond she will feel with women throughout history who have tried to stop war, prejudice and drunk driving. 

I want to describe to my daughter the exhilaration of seeing your child learn to ride a bike.

I want to capture for her the belly laugh of a baby who is touching the soft fur of a dog or cat for the first time. 

I want her to taste the joy that is so real it actually hurts. 

My daughter's quizzical look makes me realize that tears have formed in my eyes. "You'll never regret it," I finally say. Then I reached across the table, squeezed my daughter's hand and offered a silent prayer for her, and for me, and for all the mere mortal women who stumble their way into this most wonderful of callings. 
Please share this with a Mom that you know or all of your girlfriends who may someday be Moms. May you always have in your arms the one who is in your heart."

-Author Unknown

Our Haunted House...

I'm going to take a break from my normal blog topics and tell you the story of my house. Sounds boring, right??? I WISH!!! The actual story is anything but...what you are about to read is real. It's happened over the last 3.5 years at my house. Think of it as you wish....this is my story.

So when DH and I met over 10 years ago we were both still living at our parents houses. About a year after we started dating we got engaged. At that time we bought a condo (big mistake as it was 2004 and the housing market was just a few years away from tanking)...big mistake but what did we know? The condo was nice, except I'm not meant for condo living....I like to listen to my country music loud while cleaning. And there was this jerk who lived across from us who thought he owned the grass in front of his unit and he yelled at me every time my dogs went to the bathroom on "his" yard. Whatever JERK!!! The condo wasn't all bad though, we met these wonderful people who moved in next door to us. And though we have both since moved we are still friends. And even though we don't see them anywhere near enough, they are close friends who have been super supportive. Anyway, in 2010 we decided that we would start looking for a house to buy and rent out our condo. After a few months of searching we found one that I loved and my husband was happy with it too. As the house buying goes there were ups and downs but on April 30th we closed on the house. And after two weeks of hard labor on DH's part we were finally ready to move in. On May 15th 2010 we packed up the condo and moved the gang (2 dogs and 1 cat) 45 miles across town to a colonial more in the country. 

It didn't take long...the weird stuff started happening on our very first night. About 2am we crashed and fell asleep almost immediately. About 5am we were awoken by a loud crashing sound. We went to investigate only to discover the hook that was holding up a poster gave out and the framed poster came crashing down. Simple enough, but it was one of those J hooks and the frames's wire was resting in the bottom part so it didn't make a lick of sense that the entire hook had opened up. The next morning DH bent the hook back to its original shape, hammered it back in the wall, and hung the poster back up....it's been there ever since. 

Over the next few months our garage door would randomly open and close. We chalked that up to the opener being on the same frequency as another garage door opener. Then one fall evening while DH was still at work I was vacuuming the house. I finished and put the vacuum away. I popped my head into the guest bedroom to turn the light off and what I saw changed my view on my house forever!!!  On the side of the room opposite the door, in my freshly vacuumed carpet was the perfect footprint. It was a big manly size footprint. I was so freaked out and thinking no one would ever believe me I took a photo. At that point I was ready to call the people from Paranormal Witness but DH was still not convinced.

A few months later one evening I was getting ready to take a bath (DH was on his way home from work). I put my clothes in the hamper and noticed the access door to our attic was ajar. I figured DH had just been up there and didn't close it all the way. So when he got home I asked him why he had been in the attic. I wasn't prepared for his response, "I haven't been in the attic in well over a month." Needless to say my suspicion that my house is haunted continued to grow. 

About a month later DH and I along with both dogs and our cat were watching TV in our bedroom when we heard footsteps coming up our stairs. Since we were all upstairs we knew it wasn't one of us...DH flew to get his gun and then went to investigate. After a through investigation of our house turned up nothing we went back to bed (with the alarm set that's for sure).

In October of 2011 we went to our first homeowners association meeting.  After the meeting was over we were standing around talking to some of the other people at the meeting (we tend to keep to ourselves and we don't know too many of our neighbors). The husband of the president of the association came up to us and we were talking. When we told him where we lived he said that he already knew, that we lived in "the dead guys house." WHAT?!?!?!? Long story short, the guy who used to live here lived here with his wife, daughter, and mother. He was a higher up for one of the domestic automakers and in 2009 when they started to fail he lost his job. When his money ran out his wife left him. Being unable to support his family he committed suicide in the garage.  Now I was starting to regret buying a foreclosed house....had we bought it from a person and not a bank they would have been required to disclose that at the time of purchase...


Things continued on and off for the next few years...we'd hear footsteps on the stairs, our dogs would all of a sudden start growling at nothing and on occasion our cat would have her hair stand up and start running around like crazy. And sometimes I'd feel like I wasn't alone in the house.

Then in October of 2012 we were having our basement finished. The tile guy who did the tile in the bathroom is also an EMT for our local fire department. When we started talking to the guy he mentioned that this wasn't the first time he had been in our house....he had responded to the call when the former owner killed himself. So we tried to ask him questions about what had happened but due to privacy laws he was unable to tell us any more than we already knew. He did tell us one thing that I will never forget...when DH asked if the reason the floor in our garage had been freshly apoxied had anything to do with what happened. His response was, "Well, there are just some things that you can't wash off." 

Then about 3 months ago I put little D to bed around 11pm.  I turned his music and projector on and set the night timer on for 45 minutes. I went into our bedroom to brush my teeth. I took the dogs out and then crawled into bed. It only took me a minute to be overcome with the silence....less than 10 minutes after I turned on the music it had been turned off (and DH was asleep next to me). This has contined to happen about once a week. I've been trying to chalk it up to a short in the device.

About a month later DH was in bed sleeping and I went to go check on lil D since the music shut itself off again. I looked downstairs and saw what I can only describe as a shadowy figure moving from my kitchen to my living room. I was so freaked out I ran into lil D's room and closed the door.  He was sound asleep and I watched him sleep for about a half hour. When I finally gathered the courage I went back into our room. I didn't say anything to anyone because I was afraid of sounding like a complete nut. The next evening DH and I were sitting on our couch watching TV when he tells me that twice that day he saw a shadowy figure moving from the kitchen to the living room. I was SO freaked out!!!! 

Then about three weeks ago I was awoken in the middle of the night by a loud crashing sound. I searched the house but was unable to find the source of the noise. The next morning when I went to make lil D his bottle I saw the source of the noise...a solid metal door knob was on the floor in the kitchen. This knob doesn't match any other knob in our house nor is it missing from any door or cabinet in our house. I have NO idea where it came from. 

Then two weeks ago we had my MIL and FIL babysitting my sister and lil D. When I called them after the movie to see how things were going my MIL sounded terrified. When I asked her what was wrong she said that while she has been sitting in the family room watching TV the door to our basement kept opening and closing on its own, twice slamming. She said all the windows in the house were closed and that all three animals were in the room with her.

Finally, two days ago I was in lil D's room feeding him when DH went to take a shower. When he went to put the clothes away in the closet he discovered the door to the attic was again ajar. And then he told me the craziest thing I've ever heard...(keeping in mind that DH is a skeptic and believes there is a logical explanation for most of what has happened) earlier in the day he had been asking out loud if there was some sort of spirit or ghost in the house that it make itself known by slamming the door. I told DH that if he didn't get his proof then I don't know when he will...

So that's the story on our house. That's why I feel our house is haunted. At this point I'm not sure what to do. 

See You Again

I was on my way to work yesterday when all of a sudden I was blindsided by a song that just struck me...by the time the song was over I had tears rolling down my face....

Its called See You Again by Carrie Underwood and, if I could carry a tune in a bucket, I would sing this for Bristol....

She was born too...

Sometimes I feel like Im the only one who remembers that Bristol ever existed.  When we were pregnant with lil D my MIL made the comment on numerous occasions, "Just wait until you have to go through delivery, that will really hurt."  Each time she was corrected that I had already been through a vaginal delivery. and though our baby wasn't full term, it hurt like hell.  Well, earlier this week a "friend" of DH posted on FB that his wife was going to be induced on Friday.  DH commented that he hoped it was smooth and didn't take as long as our 48 hour induction.  To which he was meet with the following comment, "It can take longer for first time moms when they are induced," from his friends wife.  Really???  I mean I know you are a conceited SOB that I have never liked in my entire life, but considering you were a best man at our wedding (we had 2) you should be more conscientious about your comments.  Ohh, it still has me pissed off.

Plus, Im pretty certain that Im the only one who remembers that her EDD is coming up.  May 31st our first born was supposed to make her glorious entry into this world.  Instead the day makes me want to curl up in a ball and cry.  She should be turning one a week from today...plunging her open palms into chocolate birthday cake and making a glorified mess with a big grin on her face!!!

It's really weird because I am as happy as I have ever been with our rainbow baby but at the same time, Im as sad as ever because I miss Bristol.  I don't think any truer words have been spoken....


 "The beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn’t mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds."

Today's musings

I havent written as much as I would like to lately.....part due to being so busy and part due to writers block.  Ill start a post in my head thats usually inspired by a country music song or a particular topic being discussed on the news but by the time I get to a computer I've lost the thought.  Well, I am going to try to push through this one because I think it is important...

Have you ever been waiting for something so long that you build up this wonderful image in your head that is just perfect and then you set your standards so high that when it inevitably happens it isnt exactly how you pictured it???  I am not complaining about lil D....he is perfect and I feel blessed to be his mother!!!  Personally I think I enjoy it even more for our struggles....I even enjoy the middle of the night feedings.  What I wasnt expecting was this overwhelming feeling of missing Bristol even more than I did before D was born.  I didnt and I dont think of D as a replacement....I could never replace Bristol nor would I ever want to.  But I find my mind drifting more to her now then it did when I was pregnant.  When Im giving D a bottle or rocking him to sleep...I cant help but think that she should be turning one in a few weeks.  Or I wonder what her cry would have sounded like or what her smile would have looked like.  They have the same nose so I see some of her in him.  But it makes me miss her even more...I find I cry a lot easier now.

And I worry even more now...when the bombings in Boston happened I couldn't hold D tight enough.  To think that a little 8 year old was killed while he was watching his dad run a marathon.  And then my mind wanders....oh my goodness, he is gonna go to school one day and what happens if kids make fun of him?  Or one day he is gonna drive a car in the snow and what if he is in an accident???  And then he will go to prom.  And then college.  Or what if he wants to join our military???  I support our men and women in our armed forces more than I can say...and that is such an amazing sacrifice for ones country, but as a mom I am not ok with that.  And then he'll get married.  And what if his spouse doesn't like me?  Ill never see the grandkids.    

I think I should start the anti anxiety meds now before he goes to kindergarten :)

Nurses...

“Being a nurse means to hold all your own tears and start drawing smiles on people’s faces.”

We met a lot of people on our journey with Bristol, a few of them have even made a lasting impression on me.  One of those people is the nurse who met us after we were given the news that Bristol was gone.  We has just finished making all of our required calls to family and our respective jobs to let them know that Bristol had passed away and that I was going to be induced that day when a nurse came to take us to our room.  She introduced herself as nurse N and told us she would be our nurse for the day.  She seemed very nice but our world had just collapsed and I really wasnt paying attention to anyone or anything.  I didnt know what to expect....I was only 26 weeks and had never been through labor or delivery before.  I hadnt held a baby in years let alone one that had passed away and was only measuring at 21 weeks.  When we walked into the room, N sat with us for a while and talked with us about what to expect....she let us know that our daughter would become cold after we held her for a while.  That her skin would be dark because she was gone.  She told me that labor was going to hurt (though I figured no amount of physical pain could top the emotional pain I was in).  The situation was horrible and N did everything she could to help us through it.  I remember at the end of her shift N came to say goodbye...she told us that if we were still there two days later that she would be back and we could request her as our nurse again.  

And when we were still there Saturday morning we requested N to be our nurse again.  She was so wonderful.  The drs and nurses had pretty much left us alone that day, which was in stark contrast to the day before when people were in our room every few minutes.  Sometime around 3pm that day, after the guy from the funeral home left, DH and I were talking.  I told him how I felt like a failure....how, for years my body couldn't or wouldn't do what it was fundamentally designed to do and then once it did my body failed my baby.  What if this was my only chance to be a mom and I failed my baby???  I couldn't stop sobbing, though what I really wanted to do was wail.  When N came to check on me one time DH told her everything I was saying.  She told me that she understood what I was saying....and with tears in her eyes told me that at her age women are considered "advanced maternal age".  I knew at that point that her and her husband were battling infertility too.  She told me that anything I feel is normal....that I had every right to be as sad as I was....that one day DH would eventually get worried cuz I was still crying all the time and that it was ok as long as I was taking care of myself.  She told DH that he needed to watch me and watch out for postpartum depression....she said it was ok if I didnt want to do anything or get out of bed but if I started to neglect the dogs that was a warning sign that things were not ok.  

I will never forget the way she talked to me about postpartum care.  She said that we could not have sex for 6 weeks and that "no sex" meant didn't just mean actual sex but it meant no vibrator and no "digits" either.  I had no idea what she meant so I asked her...both DH and N laughed....apparently digits referred to fingers.  Seriously???  They really need to tell people that?!?!?!?  I will never forget that moment of levity as long as I live...a brief moment of laughter in a period that seemed like such a deep dark hole I would never escape from.  She also referred to my private parts as "lady bits" which is a term I have now stole from her because I HATE the word vagina.

I will never forget when we left the hospital on 2/25/12....N wheeled me out in a wheelchair to the car that DH has pulled up.  She gave me a hug and told me that she hoped she would see me again under different circumstances.

When we finally decided with our second pregnancy that we would be delivering at U of M I was really hoping that she was still there at that she would be our nurse.  I wanted to tell her how much she helped me.  When we were at the hospital I asked before every shift change if N was there and if she could be our nurse.  Though she was never able to be our nurse she did come in to say hi to us.  I gave her a huge hug.  I told her how much I thought of her over the past year and how her words had helped me in my grief.  I am where I am today, in part, because of her.  I hope I was able to convey my appreciation to her, but frankly I dont think there are enough words in the English language that can tell her how much she helped me.  

Nurse N, from the bottom of my heart THANK YOU!!!

Below is a link to a video entitled "Nurses Grieve Too:  Insights into Experiences with Perinatal Loss."  It is a wonderful video about the feelings that nurses feel while dealing with couples experiencing
 loss.

https://www.google.lk/search?q=normal+2007&hl=en&client=firefox-beta&tbo=d&rls=org.mozilla:en-US:official&channel=np&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=PCLmUL6VNcHHrQea8IDgBA&ved=0CAoQ_AUoAA&biw=1920&bih=938