Hope vs. Belief

A week before Christmas I found out I was pregnant yet again.  My fifth pregnancy.  I took a second home pregnancy test two days after I found out I was pregnant.  The stick now showed a weak positive.  The following day another test showed a negative.  I knew I was pregnant for the 5th time for a grand total of three whole days.  My third early miscarriage in exactly the span of one year.  In those three days, I became excited for that new life.  I was due in August.  I'd be on maternity leave for my daughter's first year of kindergarten!  I'd already thought through the next 8 months + 1 year.  I can't help it, that's what I do.  And I honestly felt that this time was going to be good.  I BELIEVED that this time I was going to take home a baby.  And it turned out to be so far from the truth.  I got my "period" about a week late, a plain old, no drama, normal period, as if the pregnancy was never even real in the first place.

I have a good friend who is what I describe as intuitively sensitive.  She reads cards and does chakra and aura readings, etc.  She believes that what we struggle with in life is because we don't truly believe in it.  In my case, she figures I don't honestly believe I can get pregnant or have a baby.  I'm just not totally sold on this idea, I don't really believe that this is how the world works...there is just too much sadness in the world that I just can't chalk up to individual's positive thinking.

I saw a medium last month.  I believe she was legit.  She told me Harris' soul is coming back to me and she saw me getting pregnant in the next 4-6 weeks.  It was 2.5 weeks later when I found out I was pregnant.  I believed in it.  She gave me hope.  For the first time, I felt myself really believing that good things were going to happen, and that I would indeed be pregnant and have another baby.  And then I was.  And I had so much faith.  And then I wasn't.  And then I felt very faithless.  It's so much work to build yourself up in hope to only have it shattered time and time again.  And yet.  And yet I am still not at the end of my rope.  I don't feel it at this moment, but I know I must once again dig deep to find the strength to persevere and try yet again to have our rainbow baby.  Because that is what I want, and come hell or high water, we are going to have our baby.  I pray for strength and grace and patience while seeking out hope in every eternal four week cycle.

"A-ha"

You know how sometimes you've heard a song a million times, and then one time you actually listen to the lyrics and you have your little "a-ha" moment.  Well I had one of those moments last night, and I felt more than a little...well, daft.

Every December there is a Candlelight Ceremony held in my city that is for anyone who has lost a baby.  It is put on by the local baby loss support group here.  There's a speaker, they play a couple of songs, a poem is read, and then everyone takes their turn lighting a candle in memory of their baby.  I will be honest.  I still grieve for Harris, and my other lost pregnancies, but at this point in time I kind of feel indifferent about attending things like this service, or support group meetings (whether they be formal, or the more informal ones I've joined in recent months).  I am just really at peace and acceptance with where we are at this point in our lives and what we have been through.  I feel that we do our own things to remember Harris, and it's not as if I really NEED a ceremony to go to remember my baby boy.  But I went, and my husband and daughter came with.  I saw many of the same faces I've come to recognize over the past 21 months.  Some of those faces are now pregnant with their rainbow babies.  It's terrific for them, but there's always still that little jab of jealousy in my gut whenever I see someone's basketball belly, because I too want a basketball in my belly.

Anyways.  Back to my daftness.  So the first of the 2 songs they played that evening was an older country song by George Canyon called My Name.  I've heard it a bunch of times before, but I sat and listened to the words, wondering how it really related to baby loss.  As we were leaving the service, standing waiting for the elevators I told my husband that I didn't really get what the song was about.  He explained it was from the unborn baby's point of view, and that as he was born he took God's hand and was told it wasn't his time yet.  Well, the waterworks sure started then, I cried on the way home, and really ramped it up when I watched the video later that evening once I was home.  So sad.  I honestly had no idea that this song out there was about stillbirth.

The second song that was played that evening was by Daughtry called Gone Too Soon.  It still kind of blows me away when I learn of songs that are out there that are about baby loss.  It reminds me that there are SO MANY people out there that have been touched by the loss of a baby.  And that even in those moments where I feel just so alone, I am not.

So I went.  I enlightened myself with some song lyrics.  I cried.  I remembered.  I loved him.  I missed him.  No regrets.

Any favorite songs out there that help you remember your babies?

Harris' Tree

I'm back!  Here's just a short little post to get me jump started again...

Last year some awesome, caring friends all pitched in and got us a gift card to get a tree in memory of Harris.  We planted it in our backyard in June of last year.  It's a Laurel Leaf Willow, a tree that I've often admired because they grow very full and wide.  Last winter was a hard year on the trees where I live.  Come spring, Harris' tree didn't look very good.  In fact, I was pretty sure it was dead.  We contemplated taking it back and getting a new one since it had a one year warranty on it.  Obviously, it had huge sentimental value on it, so instead, Dan decided to just cut it back and see what happened. 

It then looked like this:

Super sad right??  Luckily, our next door neighbour is like a tree genius and about 6 weeks later our tree looked like this:

Super amazing right?  Turns out his tree was pretty resilient too.  Just like me!
 
 
 

His angel and memorial stone that sit at the base of his tree.  

Surprise! It's Me, Grief!

Sometimes the grief just sneaks up on you.  Like this past weekend.  We headed out of town for the weekend to go camping with some other families who all have kids the same age as our daughter.  We were all looking forward to hanging out with our friends and just having a relaxing time in the outdoors.  On the way to the campground, me and the fam stopped for lunch at a little diner-type restaurant.  I was just feeling in a funk that morning and couldn't really figure out why.  I actually started crying in the middle of our lunch....perhaps I was still suffering from the hormone crash?  I hate that feeling of being so down, and not being able to pinpoint the reason why.  Or in hindsight I think I was kind of ignoring the reason(s) why. 

You see, this past Sunday was supposed to be my due date for the pregnancy I lost during my first miscarriage.  I shouldn't have even been on that camping trip.  And then two days after that was what should have been Harris' one year birthday.  Another reason I should have been at home that weekend.  When I initially found out that pregnancy #3's due date was just a year minus two days from Harris' due date, I kind of felt it was serendipitous.  A good sign.  Rowan's first birthday was such a big deal for me and I loved every minute of planning her party and making it perfect.  So thinking about what we SHOULD have been doing this past weekend was kind of despairing to say the least. 

So ok, I figured out why I was feeling so lousy, and I think I was allowed.  It's funny though, even though I knew these "dates" were looming, I just wasn't really expecting them to get to me so much.

I am still feeling ok after this last miscarriage.  Still haven't really shed any tears over it.  Don't get me wrong, it super sucks and I don't like this path we are on, but it is what it is.  It kind of feels odd to me, the lack of utter devastation that just isn't there this time.  Maybe I'm now so hardened inside that I'm just not as easily affected by huge disappointments?  I don't know if this is "normal", but it is truthfully just how I am feeling these days.

Gravida 4, Para 1

So it's finally over with.  The new familiarity of our situation feels somewhat unsettling.  Sunday afternoon I took the Misoprostol, and by Monday morning I miscarried our baby.  It took a little longer than last time (my last miscarriage was over with in a couple of hours once I took the medication), but I would still go this route again, God forbid I ever need to.  For me it was much less traumatic to be on my own couch at home, watching movies, curled up with my heating pad, than having to schedule a D&C at the hospital.  I work in a medical lab, so having to collect the "tissue" for me wasn't even that traumatic.  And Tylenol 3's apparently make me loopy.  I've never taken them before, except for my miscarriages, but I kind of liked them!  Happy to know I have some leftovers...anyway, just so glad it's over with and I can once again concentrate on moving forward.  Some good new though: my doc said we only need to wait until my next cycle before we can try with the IUI's again, so that was good news!!  So here we go again!  Lord give me strength....

I Know It's Going To Be Worth It..

My husband has a knack for pulling a song out of his mental song library that has the most perfect, meaningful lyrics, just when we need them.  This one pretty much sums it up.

Fail!

Today I am 7 weeks and 2 days pregnant.  Or at least I should be.  I had my ultrasound today and.....there was no heartbeat.  Plus the embryo was measuring about a week behind schedule.  The radiologist gave me this ridiculous spiel about how I should come back in a week for another ultrasound, and that their is a small chance that things may turn out all for the baby.  It just sounded like a lot of BS to me though.  I know my dates aren't off, so there is just no way that would even be possible.  I kind of felt like this all was just too good to be true anyway.  I'm not even really feeling sad at the moment.  I didn't cry.  I'm mostly feeling numb.  And mad.  But mostly numb.  And since this situation is not new to us, it feels....unfortunately familiar.  How pathetic is that?!?  Now if you'll excuse me, I'm off to find a hole to crawl into and feel sorry for myself.