How to be happy for others?

I go to a baby loss support group. It runs once a month. There are usually 7 or so people that attend including the facilitator. Each person has their own story of baby loss. They are all different but the resulting grief is similar. We all have had experiences of anger and resentment to obviously pregnant women and newborn babies. Angry thoughts that are unfair to the person whom they are directed to. It is hard to be happy for others when their happiness reinforces or reminds you of your pain.

But some women say that it is easier to be happy for certain people than others. For example, if a woman approaches her pregnancy naively boasting to everyone without awareness that bad things can happen. It is hard to take because we remember being in that exact position and look what happened to us. My pregnancy was completely normal. There were no warning signs or risk factors.

Moms who experience baby loss want to say to others "It can happen to you - but it probably won't." Can you imagine the fall out if I said to a pregnant mother, "you know your baby might die even though you have done everything right?" Nobody wants to talk about baby loss. On the other hand if a mother is aware and sensitive of baby loss or has experienced it, the women in my group have said that they are very happy for them but still worry because one never knows for sure what can happen.

Being happy for others is my challenge right now. I know that if I were to manage to get pregnant again the people who are aware that I have lost a son and struggled with infertility would be happy for me. So it is not fair to begrudge those people my best wishes when they are expecting. On the other hand the overwhelming feeling of life being unfair is hard to take when the person who is expecting seems to have everything going their way as far as fertility is concerned. Specifically if a woman has never had trouble conceiving and her babies are healthy, happy and whole it is hard to dispel the seed of resentment.

My ongoing big question is why do I have to deal with infertility and stillbirth. Is one or the other not enough? Spread the garbage around a little......
Anyway that is my rant for today. I feel better thanks for listening.
Happy Christmas

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,
I have been mostly good. I have a request this year. I do not want anything for Christmas except a baby. If you can't give me one this year, please bring me one before Christmas next year.
Love
Andrea

I wish it were that easy.

Anne has just started to become very interested in other people's babies. I think it is really sweet but it breaks my heart at the same time. She saw a little girl yesterday that was 2 months younger than baby Steve should be. She gave the baby her bottle and she cried when the little girl and her parents drove away in their truck. I wish she had her brother. I wish she had a sibling that is only 19 months younger than her. I feel cheated for her.
It sounds horrible but I wish that if I were "destined" to have a stillborn baby I would rather have it 3rd or 4th because then my other children would be closer in age. Anne is two and she is getting older all the time and I don't see any siblings for her in the near future.
What a load of crap.

white Christmas, blue Christmas...deck the halls

At Christmas time my family has a tradition of going to my grandfather's land and cutting down a tree for Christmas. We have done this every year that I can remember. Anyway, after tramping through overgrown poplar saplings and scaling the steep hill side leading down to the creek, following the creek to the sunny bank by the lake where the fuller trees grow and then selecting the "right" trees, one for my parent's home and one for my grandparent's home, we would drag them back to the cars and tie them down. We would eat yummy popcorn balls, oranges, cookies and drink hot chocolate. We would then drive back to my grandparent's home and put up the first tree. My grandparents had a cold room upstairs over the garage where they stored all of their decorations. We would wait impatiently while my grandmother would bring them downstairs. We would check the lights first then wrap them around the tree. Garland was next, then ornaments and the whole time we would be listening to Bing Crosby's white Christmas record. My uncle had a fabulous collection of records but this one was my favorite. I liked singing to "jingle bells" especially. My uncle is a very unique fellow. He has a diagnosis of schizophrenia. He is 58 years old. He never married, never had children or a job. One of the things that my uncle loves is music. His records were the soundtrack to my childhood Christmases. Some members of my family would tire of listening to the same record over and over again but I don't remember ever tiring of old Bing's Christmas carols.

Now I think about my childhood Christmases and the majority of them were spent with my grandparents, uncle, my sister and my parents. In 2001 my Christmases changed. My grandfather died weeks shy of his 85 birthday in September of that year. When your family is not very big one person missing makes a huge difference. My grandfather kept my grandmother and uncle level, he was their rock - if you don't mind cliches. Anyway, the holidays were different. The lights seemed a little dimmer, the burning pudding less magical, a carefree sort of Christmas happiness gone. Now I am not sure if it was solely because of the breakdown of my childhood Christmas participants or if my aging (I turned 18 that year) had been gradually catching up with me.

What I want is to recreate the bright, shiny, spirit filled Christmas for my daughter. I want her to enjoy Christmas like I did as a child. I don't want my tarnished, cynical soul to damage her childhood Christmases. I have been trying to create meaningful traditions that will contribute to her experiencing Christmas joy. This year we went and bought angels anonymous gifts for a little girl and boy the same ages as my daughter and as my son would be now. We donated money to an organization that helps children in third world countries and we are going to hunt down a tree tomorrow. I know she is only two so some of the traditions won't mean anything to her yet. But maybe if we keep doing them, Christmas can be all it was for me back then, for her now.  

28 years young and other sad news

I was thinking about an old friend today. A girl who I remember being confident, very trendy, dramatic and loyal. She asked me to draw her portrait when we were in grade 7 or 8. I finished it except for shading in part of the background. I still have it sitting in my closet in my mom's house. This friend disappeared from my life around grade 11. I am not sure where she went. I think she left high school early or transferred.
I was reading on facebook around the beginning of December and one of my other old friends had written on her status that the girl had died. I read her obituary and learned she had left behind her five children. My heart broke for them, I cried for them and then I cried for my own baby.

Last week I went over to my mother in laws house and my sister in law told me that her friend was "going through the exact same thing that I am going through." I thought "oh no, how can that be?"
Her friend's sister gave birth to a baby boy who died. It sounded like the baby died after birth - so a little different situation but I am absolutely sure the grief is debilitating. I cried for her and then I cried for my baby.

What amazes me is how each subsequent loss that I have become aware of though I don't know the people affected splits my heart in half. It is like revisiting my initial grief (the raw, aching, screaming pain grief) briefly. I don't really get it. Perhaps after experiencing the excruciating pain of losing a child a person's ability to feel empathy increases?

hitting a wall

I went Christmas shopping at the mall today. I managed to get a couple of gifts and a pair of shoes. I should not go to the mall. The mall is where everyone takes their babies. I can't believe how many babies there are. They are everywhere. The moms look so young too.
I feel like a boat with holes in the bottom. Every time I see a baby (especially newborns and boys) I feel as though someone has punched a hole in my hull. I can feel myself sinking into grief and fighting to stay afloat. The tears sometimes come to my eyes or I get a lump in my throat. I fight it though. Its like treading water or maybe treading jello pudding. Nice visual right?
Anyway there comes a point where I have to leave the mall (or any other baby saturated place) because I am exhausted from fighting the sadness. I can't believe how my arms physically ache to hold a baby of my own. Anne is wonderful because she lets me cuddle her, but two-year-olds can only sit for so long.

I feel as though my life is a bad dream. I would like someone to wake me up.

Babies on parade

The advocate and the sylvan lake paper are doing babies on parade for 2011. I wonder what they would say if I sent in a photo of my son... He was born this year. Should I "rain on their parade?"
When your baby is dead there are unintentional cruel reminders of what you have lost everywhere. I crumpled the advertisement and threw the paper out.
I hope that next year I will be celebrating a new addition too. I wonder if they would accept an adopted baby's photo?

speaking of adoption......

After my son died I wanted to die. I physically hurt from emotional pain. I thought I would never feel better. I thought the pain would never stop being incapacitating. To remind myself of what I had to live for I made a list.

Things to do while I wait to die…

5 year plan (by 33 years old)

- continue to raise my daughter

- love my husband

- try to have more children

- apply for adoption

- travel to China to pick up a daughter

- travel to Scotland to pick up Robert

- travel to the Philippines to pick up Andrew

- play in a band (*started September 2011 - I play trumpet in the Red Deer Monday Night Band)

- finish the basement (*finished November 2011)

- start sewing quilts

- write the story of my second pregnancy, the death of my first born son and resulting grief

- take my family on a trip to Utah at Christmas time

- go to the temple with my husband (*we went to the Cardston Temple in October 2011)

- start my genealogy (* started my family history in November 2011)

- put money away for my children’s college educations

- make a will (we still have to get it signed but it is done)

- finish landscaping the backyard

- participate in Anne’s schooling

10 year plan (by 38 years)

- finish having children

- attend my 20 year high school reunion

- build our “forever” house

- learn to fly a plane

- travel to Australia

- learn to scuba dive

- start working part time in something important (maybe a school?)

- invest in property

- take my family to the Caribbean

- love my husband

- continue to raise my daughter

- participate in school activities

- buy a boat

20 year plan (by 48 years)

- continue working out of the home

- take my family to Europe

- spend more time painting

- love my husband

- celebrate Anne’s 21^st birthday

30 year plan (by 58 years)

- be a good grandmother should I be blessed to have grandchildren

- attend all of my children’s important events

- consider retirement of my husband

- love my husband

- cherish my children

40 year plan (by 68 years)

- travel to Italy

- take square dance lessons with my husband

- have a greenhouse

- love my husband

- cherish my children and grandchildren

50 year plan (by 78 years)

- hope for great grand children

- do crosswords so I don’t lose my brain

60 year plan (by 88 years)

- live in a senior’s home and play lots of crib

- remember my children and their children’s names

- not be a burden on my family

70 year plan (by 98 years)

- be reunited with my first born son

- join my Celestial family

When I read this I cry. I am looking forward to everything especially the 70 year plan. It seems so far away. I know time flies. It has been almost 6 months since I lost my only son. I am looking forward to meeting him in 70 years and the rest of the family that I have been learning about through genealogy.  

another delivery

My husband is a family doctor. He delivers babies. Today one of his patients is having a baby. It is weird - I don't want anyone else to have a baby die (especially someone my husband delivers!) but at the same time I have resentment towards them because they are getting exactly what I want. They are getting what I expected for 9 months.
I suppose that means I am jealous. I wish my baby lived so when I hear about other peoples babies it would make me happy instead of hurt.

Here is to my birth mom's baby living :)

i can't take it anymore

So today is the last day of my third clomid cycle. I don't know if anyone else out there has taken clomid. I was on 100mg and I achieved ovulation, but not conception.
Clomid is one of the worst drugs I have ever taken. It gives me hot flashes, ridiculous mood swings, sound is intensified and grief is multiplied. On top of the drug I have to do blood tests and pee on sticks to check for LH surges indicative of ovulation. I told Steve I would take it three times. I don't think I could make it through another round.
So I quit. Praying did not do anything. The drugs did not help.
We are now going to try our luck at adoption. Hopefully somebody out there thinks that we might be a good choice to be the parents for their children.
I feel like saying a whole bunch of vindictive things about the uselessness of praying but I will stop here and just say I feel like I have been slapped across the face again.

Family History

So I was hunting through family history stuff and I came across some poetry. My ancestors on my paternal grandmothers side of the family enjoyed reciting and writing poetry. Here are a couple that speak to me:

 When Twilight Dews
When twilight dews are falling soft
upon the rosy sea, love
I etch the star, who beam so oft
has light me to thee, love
And thou to on that orb so dear,
An, dost thou gaze at even;
And think, though lost forever here,
Thou'lt yet be mine in heaven?
There's not a garden-walk I tread,
There's not a flower I see, love
But brings to mind some hope that's fled
Some joy I've lost with thee, love
And still I wish that hour was near,
When friends and foes forgiven,
The pains, the ills we've wept through here
May turn to smiles in Heaven.
- Thomas Moore

Clara
Like the softening touch of a evening smile
That follows a dreary day,
She only came for a little while
And then she stole away.
But she left in our hearts a lovely place
When she sank to her early rest,
With her mother's smile on her tiny face
As she died on her mother's breast.
Why do we learn to love the time
That our hearts must hear no more?
Why did she come to fly so soon
To a fairer happier shore?
Why did the little hands grow cold?
Why did the heart stand still?
Why has the tale so soon been told
That many a page might fill?
Poor little babe! I whisper now
It was hard to let her go:
But still to our Father's will we bow
For He must surely know
Happiest babe! But yet most dear,
Though far in that distant land;
In joy forever, and always near
To the Father's own right hand!
Oh! The bonds of love are very true
But they could not hold her fast,
Yet we did all that our love could do
As long as her life would last;
Then we sadly laid her down to rest
Entombed in the love we gave
With the sunlit smile of the golden west,
To shine on her tiny grave.
Though her cradle is empty yet we shall think
Of a baby voice on high,
And a baby crown as a golden link
To bind our hearts to the sky
Of the baby play, and the gentle grace
Of the smile that we loved best;
With the light from Heaven that filled her face
When she died on her mothers breast!

-September 21, 1894
In a letter from Leopold Hare to Douglas and Carolena Hare written after Leopold received the telling of the death of Douglas and Carolena's baby girl.

Sorry I should introduce myself

My name is Andrea I am 28 years old. I am married and have had two children. My daughter is 2 years old this November. My son was due on June 25, 2011. He was still born on June 21, 2011. He died inside of me during my labor because of placental abruption. He died because he did not have any oxygen and because every time his heart beat he was losing blood that would not return to him. I had no warning signs during my very normal pregnancy and the autopsy of his placenta showed that his abruption was massive and acute – very large and quick. I think that I have experienced every emotion possible since this happened with anger being the most prevalent. Overwhelming sadness follows a close second.

I can’t wrap my head around this situation. It does not make any sense to me. I know the scriptures say, “Do not lean unto your own understanding, but trust in the Lord.”

However, I am or was before I left work to stay home with my daughter, a child welfare worker with the Alberta government in Canada. I worked for three and a half years investigating, removing and reunited children from and with their families. I have seen some of the saddest things possible. I held a newborn baby who was going through withdrawal from prenatal exposure to cocaine. I have apprehended children who think it is normal for adults (sometimes their parent) to beat them. I am not speaking of spanking I am talking about using excessive force resulting in bodily harm. I have seen cigarette burns on an infant girl’s legs. I have seen many teen pregnancies and mothers who have had nine children or more and they are all in government care.

My thought process is: why would Heavenly Father allow children to be born into these families alive and allow a child born into my family die? His was a family where his father is a doctor and his mother would have stayed at home to raise him, a family where his parents, sister, aunts, uncles and grandparents eagerly awaited his arrival.

Furthermore, I experience fertility issues. I was diagnosed with Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome in 2008. My daughter was conceived after 14 months of working through fertility testing and hormone therapy. My son was a miracle. I had just attended my obstetrician to begin another hormone treatment and found that I was pregnant. I was so grateful to be pregnant without the use of the hormone drug Clomid as it can only be used so many times. My doctor recommended no more than 10-12 cycles as the drug is linked to ovarian cancer. I have had five cycles of Clomid to date. My husband and I are trying to have another baby now. We would like our children to be close together. We have not been successful as yet.

I know that many others experience tragedy and infertility. I just wish that I did not have to deal with both. My son did not die for any reason related to my fertility issues. I cannot understand why Heavenly Father would allow him to die and have me deal with heartbreaking infertility.

I know life is not fair and we all are here to be tested. I have so much. I have a beautiful home, two cars in the garage, and more than sufficient money in my bank account. I would trade it all for my son. He was one of the most beautiful things I have ever seen. He looked like my Daddy. I miss him so much it physically hurts. I know I can be with him again but I have to wait and waiting hurts.

random thoughts

The choice to give up on gratitude or not, to be in or out, is a daily choice for me. Everything seems to balance on small things that can go right or wrong daily.
Things that help are:

-       If my living child eats well

-       If I manage to complete some sort of self-care ritual

-       If my husband is home for supper or lunch or five minutes

Things that destroy me are:

-       My daughter throwing tantrums

-       Seeing new born babies (especially boys)

-       Seeing pregnant women

-       Having my husband have to go to deliver another woman’s living child

-       Hearing about newborn babies

-       Having people tell me that “everything happens for a reason” *

*     Everything happens because of something BUT everything does not happen to fulfill some greater purpose. Reasons vary in their degree of contributing to some great plan. The biggest question that occupies the conscious of most people is “Why?”

·      Why everything? Why anything? If we believe that everything has a reason we lull ourselves into a false sense of security. Eg. Some one dies – “their mission must have been fulfilled.” Furthermore “The Lord will save me because I have not fulfilled my mission in life.”

·      I believe without this security people would cease to function because they would be so scared of what could possibly happen to them.

·      I have difficultly with the notion that there is a plan for each person’s individual life.

The bad things seem to come in waves. I can be okay for a few days and then……..

It has been four months today that I lost him. I lost part of me that day. I lost my ability to be objective or detached. My sensitivity grew exponentially.

So, regarding the daily choice not to slip into oblivion. I think grief commonly pushes people to seek escape. The problem is unless an anesthetic is used or amnesia takes place there is no way to escape your head.

I am sure that I am not so different from many other people – bereaved parents in particular. I wake up every morning and I think about my son. He is my first thought of the day. He is probably in my head eighty percent of the time.

He died the same day he was born- before he was born –stillbirth.

The word Stillborn really does not sound as terrible as it is. An outsider may say why morn someone you never knew?

Trying something new

I have never blogged before. I am looking for therapeutic tools for an outlet of emotions. If you read my blog please know that I may turn to this in times of duress and the posts will probably reflect accordingly.
I have no interest in people trying to solve my problems. If you care to comment please bear that in mind.