So, besides the anniversary of "all the sad things" having me out of sorts, the dates of everything are really bugging me too. For one thing, I've always gotten a huge kick out of the whole "Ides of March" thing, but now it seems that the joke is on me. For another thing, while March 15th was her birthday, there was nothing happy about it. It was a bad, terrible, awful, sad day, so how can I say or even think "happy" birthday? I can't really. And even further, March 15th wasn't even her death day. I don't even know exactly when she died. So this date of March 15th seems awfully arbitrary...it neither celebrates her life, nor commemorates her death. It WAS the day I got to see her and hold her, so I guess there is that. So we will use it because it is the only date we have.
Alexandra and the twins made cards for Lillianna and we took them to the cemetery. We released balloons and prayed a decade of the rosary - the Carrying of the Cross. And to be honest again, though I fear it reflects some fundamental flaw within me, I hate going to the cemetery. It's not that I have an apprehension about going, or that I feel extra sad there....it really just does nothing for me except make me grouchy. We stand there around a patch of dirt and I know it's supposed to somehow be meaningful for me, but it's just not. So I'm irritable because I know I'm not getting whatever it is I'm supposed to be getting out of it. But I think it's important to have some sort of tradition or ritual for the other children, so at least once a year we will do it.
On top of that, her grave marker was missing. We sort of guessed where she was, and Josh went to the office to get the exact location. We were only one grave off. The little guys had a grand old time running around while we waited for Josh to get back, but Jane kept threatening to topple into a freshly dug hole. I found that unpleasant. I do feel more strongly about getting a proper headstone for her soon though. Playing "guess which grave" every year will not likely do much to alleviate the difficulty that I have with cemeteries. We did see one headstone near Lilliana's grave that had a picture of the baby who was buried there on it. I liked that and I think I would like to do that for Lillianna. Being able to look at her picture while we visit her grave might help me to feel more of a connection.
I have knitted a number of teeny little hats that I am planning on taking to the hospital where I gave birth, to donate for other stillborn babies. I painted a nice little box for them. I will probably do that within the next few days.
And then the days will keep on going and the time since I held her will grow longer and longer. Maybe by Monday I will feel normal again and we can resume a reasonable home life and schedule.
Friday, March 16, 2012
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
Almost a Year...
One year ago today, my baby was already dead inside of me, but I didn't know yet. We spent the day at a park with Josh's family and grandmother who was visiting from out of town. We went to an Irish pub for dinner and I had fish and chips. The kids were talking about building a machine to shrink themselves to go on an adventure in a mini-submarine. It wasn't until that night in bed that I noticed I hadn't felt her move all day.
I feel incredibly alone right now. It's no one's fault. No one else can possibly experience it and remember it like I do. Physically the whole ordeal is almost a year old now. But in my mind I am reliving all of it, as though I were in the same place, lying in the same bed waiting and waiting for my baby to be born. Except I was more numb then and I can feel more now. I can attach thoughts and feelings to the experience with far more clarity.
When it was actually happening, everyone was aware of what I was going through....maybe even more aware than I was. I was told to lay in the bed while my every need was anticipated. They comforted me and brought me food and pumped me full of drugs. But that time has gone and now I'm alone with my memories and life has gone on. It may seem strange...I feel obligated to say that I'm glad I'm here now and not there then, but it's not true. Of course I do not ever ever ever want to experience that kind of loss again, not a new one. But since that is where my brain is, back close to a year ago, why can't my body be there too? With my baby still inside me, the closest I ever was to her...with the whole world revolving around me and my loss and my pain...everyone caring for me in every way while I just lay there in sadness? But no. She is gone and everyone is living their lives while I am trapped in my mind completely alone.
I know how selfish and self-pitying I sound. Oh well.
I feel incredibly alone right now. It's no one's fault. No one else can possibly experience it and remember it like I do. Physically the whole ordeal is almost a year old now. But in my mind I am reliving all of it, as though I were in the same place, lying in the same bed waiting and waiting for my baby to be born. Except I was more numb then and I can feel more now. I can attach thoughts and feelings to the experience with far more clarity.
When it was actually happening, everyone was aware of what I was going through....maybe even more aware than I was. I was told to lay in the bed while my every need was anticipated. They comforted me and brought me food and pumped me full of drugs. But that time has gone and now I'm alone with my memories and life has gone on. It may seem strange...I feel obligated to say that I'm glad I'm here now and not there then, but it's not true. Of course I do not ever ever ever want to experience that kind of loss again, not a new one. But since that is where my brain is, back close to a year ago, why can't my body be there too? With my baby still inside me, the closest I ever was to her...with the whole world revolving around me and my loss and my pain...everyone caring for me in every way while I just lay there in sadness? But no. She is gone and everyone is living their lives while I am trapped in my mind completely alone.
I know how selfish and self-pitying I sound. Oh well.
Wednesday, March 7, 2012
Insomnia
I can't sleep. One year ago today, my baby was still alive. Whenever I lay down, all I can think about is my last week with her.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Lent
As I was thinking today about what I should give up for lent I remembered that last year Lillianna died shortly after Lent began. At the beginning of Lent we had a family discussion about what sacrifices we would make as a family as well as individual sacrifices. Then, six days later, I gave birth to my stillborn baby. Some time shortly after that, we ordered take out. Our kids were quick to remind us that take-out was one thing we had given up for lent. In my mind I thought, "Who cares, I gave up my baby for Lent instead." To the kids I just said, "Many of the things we had planned, not only for Lent but for everything, have changed. Things are hard right now and even though we haven't stuck to our original plans, we should still each try to think of small sacrifices me can make every day instead."
I knew, even at the time that my internal resentful attitude was wrong. I couldn't very well claim to have given up my baby for lent when I had absolutely no choice in the matter. Nevertheless, I didn't feel I had the strength at that time to stick with my Lenten sacrifices. I cringed inside whenever the kids brought it up because I knew I was not providing a good example for them when we should have been turning to God more than ever.
This year, some of my strength has been renewed, though I haven't decided yet what to give up. But I am determined to make the Lenten season count and resonate and edify us as a family.
My sweet Lillianna, pray for us.
I knew, even at the time that my internal resentful attitude was wrong. I couldn't very well claim to have given up my baby for lent when I had absolutely no choice in the matter. Nevertheless, I didn't feel I had the strength at that time to stick with my Lenten sacrifices. I cringed inside whenever the kids brought it up because I knew I was not providing a good example for them when we should have been turning to God more than ever.
This year, some of my strength has been renewed, though I haven't decided yet what to give up. But I am determined to make the Lenten season count and resonate and edify us as a family.
My sweet Lillianna, pray for us.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Life Goes On.....
....even though my baby is gone.
Things have been hectic and busy lately, as they usually are with six (living) children. We started school last week, and I have finally come up with a school schedule that I think I might be able to manage....of course, we are less than a week in, but I'll maintain my optimism.
But tonight, the sadness hit me again. I watched my slideshow again, and then I listened to the song that really makes me cry - Do You Realize
and I cried and cried and cried. When I listen to this song, I feel like my heart is being ripped apart and I just want to hold my baby again. I'm so sad that I never got to know her alive. I've probably said that before on this blog, but what else do I have to talk about? I had such a very short amount of time with her and not one moment with her alive. Okay, that's not true, I had her inside of me for almost nine months while she was alive. And maybe if I were a better mother, I would have bonded with her more while she was still inside me. But I feel like I bonded more with her dead body. I don't know what that means, so I won't try to analyze it.
A few weeks ago we went four-wheeling Josh's Toyota. It can hold exactly eight people. While I was still pregnant, we had talked about going four-wheeling before the baby came since we would no longer all fit in Josh's car afterword. We all had fun, but it just kills me that our fun outing was enabled by the death of my baby. I recognize that it would be stupid to never do anything again that we wouldn't have been able to do had Lillianna lived, but still...
Had she been born alive, she would have been 5 months old tomorrow. Really more like four months, since she probably would have stayed inside of me for another month or so had there not been a knot in her cord. I have the cutest Naartje outfit that Jane wore for size 3-6 months. It is such a precious, darling, tiny little outfit. I never ended up putting it away, so every time I fold laundry it is there at the bottom of the clean laundry basket. By now she would have been wearing it and looking so dainty and feminine and sweet. I wonder how it would have fit her at this point.
Dominic and Jane both became nursing monsters when my milk came in after Lillianna was born. It was initially welcome as I needed help with engorgement. Recently, I have become fed up with nursing the giants as often as they would like so I have begun extensively limiting their sessions. Had Lillianna been born alive, I would still be a full time nurser of a baby who needed it. So why am I fed up with nursing the giants? Does it mean I would be fed up with nursing her if she were here? It seems unlikely, since I have never resented nursing a baby before. Still it feels like I am betraying her somehow that I am annoyed by nursing the others.
There is a grief support meeting this coming Tuesday. I have only been once before, but I think I should go. It would be good to make time just for Lillianna since there doesn't seem to be time to feel sad for her during most days. I'm kind of depressed.
Things have been hectic and busy lately, as they usually are with six (living) children. We started school last week, and I have finally come up with a school schedule that I think I might be able to manage....of course, we are less than a week in, but I'll maintain my optimism.
But tonight, the sadness hit me again. I watched my slideshow again, and then I listened to the song that really makes me cry - Do You Realize
and I cried and cried and cried. When I listen to this song, I feel like my heart is being ripped apart and I just want to hold my baby again. I'm so sad that I never got to know her alive. I've probably said that before on this blog, but what else do I have to talk about? I had such a very short amount of time with her and not one moment with her alive. Okay, that's not true, I had her inside of me for almost nine months while she was alive. And maybe if I were a better mother, I would have bonded with her more while she was still inside me. But I feel like I bonded more with her dead body. I don't know what that means, so I won't try to analyze it.
A few weeks ago we went four-wheeling Josh's Toyota. It can hold exactly eight people. While I was still pregnant, we had talked about going four-wheeling before the baby came since we would no longer all fit in Josh's car afterword. We all had fun, but it just kills me that our fun outing was enabled by the death of my baby. I recognize that it would be stupid to never do anything again that we wouldn't have been able to do had Lillianna lived, but still...
Had she been born alive, she would have been 5 months old tomorrow. Really more like four months, since she probably would have stayed inside of me for another month or so had there not been a knot in her cord. I have the cutest Naartje outfit that Jane wore for size 3-6 months. It is such a precious, darling, tiny little outfit. I never ended up putting it away, so every time I fold laundry it is there at the bottom of the clean laundry basket. By now she would have been wearing it and looking so dainty and feminine and sweet. I wonder how it would have fit her at this point.
Dominic and Jane both became nursing monsters when my milk came in after Lillianna was born. It was initially welcome as I needed help with engorgement. Recently, I have become fed up with nursing the giants as often as they would like so I have begun extensively limiting their sessions. Had Lillianna been born alive, I would still be a full time nurser of a baby who needed it. So why am I fed up with nursing the giants? Does it mean I would be fed up with nursing her if she were here? It seems unlikely, since I have never resented nursing a baby before. Still it feels like I am betraying her somehow that I am annoyed by nursing the others.
There is a grief support meeting this coming Tuesday. I have only been once before, but I think I should go. It would be good to make time just for Lillianna since there doesn't seem to be time to feel sad for her during most days. I'm kind of depressed.
Thursday, May 19, 2011
More Guilty Little Thoughts...
I saw the term "true knot" today to describe, well, a true knot in the umbilical cord. I'm surprised I hadn't heard this specific term before since it is exactly what happened to Lillianna and it's apparently commonly used medical terminology.
So, I've been googling "true knot" and learning all about them. Though still highly unlikely to occur, it happens more often with a longer than average cord. Apparently, the baby's activity level can be somewhat of a determining factor in cord length. The more the baby swims around the longer the cord gets. And obviously, the more the baby swims around, the more likely they are to swim a knot into the cord.
I had an anterior placenta which is not problematic other than cushioning the kicks from my baby, making movement much more difficult to detect. I have always felt fetal movement fairly early, often getting the faintest little flutters around 14 weeks. When I hadn't felt even the vaguest movement by 16 weeks I began to seriously worry. By 18 weeks I was in a full blown panic and imagining all kinds of terrible scenarios and ran off to get an ultrasound.
At that point Lilliana was fine. I have no idea when she put the knot in her cord. But maybe, just maybe, she knew that I was getting agitated and worried and she just wanted to let me know that she was okay. Maybe she started swimming around more and more trying to tell me, "it's okay mama, I'm right here, can't you feel me swimming all around?" And in her efforts to reassure me, perhaps all the while she was lengthening and stretching her cord until it was long enough to swim a knot into it.
I know she didn't mean to leave me. She was only trying to make me feel better so I wouldn't worry. But if I hadn't worried so much, maybe she would have just relaxed and slept peacefully. And right now I would be holding her and nursing her and watching her chest rise and fall as she slept.
*Yes, I'm aware that this guilt is also irrational.
So, I've been googling "true knot" and learning all about them. Though still highly unlikely to occur, it happens more often with a longer than average cord. Apparently, the baby's activity level can be somewhat of a determining factor in cord length. The more the baby swims around the longer the cord gets. And obviously, the more the baby swims around, the more likely they are to swim a knot into the cord.
I had an anterior placenta which is not problematic other than cushioning the kicks from my baby, making movement much more difficult to detect. I have always felt fetal movement fairly early, often getting the faintest little flutters around 14 weeks. When I hadn't felt even the vaguest movement by 16 weeks I began to seriously worry. By 18 weeks I was in a full blown panic and imagining all kinds of terrible scenarios and ran off to get an ultrasound.
At that point Lilliana was fine. I have no idea when she put the knot in her cord. But maybe, just maybe, she knew that I was getting agitated and worried and she just wanted to let me know that she was okay. Maybe she started swimming around more and more trying to tell me, "it's okay mama, I'm right here, can't you feel me swimming all around?" And in her efforts to reassure me, perhaps all the while she was lengthening and stretching her cord until it was long enough to swim a knot into it.
I know she didn't mean to leave me. She was only trying to make me feel better so I wouldn't worry. But if I hadn't worried so much, maybe she would have just relaxed and slept peacefully. And right now I would be holding her and nursing her and watching her chest rise and fall as she slept.
*Yes, I'm aware that this guilt is also irrational.
Saturday, May 14, 2011
Resonance
So I went to a fascinating new therapist who had a completely bizarre and different approach to therapy. I don't really want to get in to detailing her techniques here, but it was intriguing to say the least. Anyway, she told me to come back to my blog and write another post. So that's what I'm doing even though I don't know what I want to write about at the moment.
Josh has been amazing and wonderful during his time home. The other night at bed time, Dominic was having a temper tantrum and Josh sang "Hush Little Baby" to help sooth him and calm him down. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but later Josh commented that it was difficult for him to sing that song again. I had forgotten when writing Lillianna's birth story that as he carried her down the hospital hallway to tuck her into the freezer he was singing that song to her. When he reminded me of that, I told him how glad I was for him that he thought to do all these little things with her like singing to her and swaddling her and what not. He looked mildly surprised and said that he didn't really have to "think" to do them, those were just things he had done with all of his babies.
As we were talking, I could see how very very sad he was feeling at that moment. My heart ached for him. I was glad that he was talking about it and that he was crying and expressing his grief because that is the normal and right and healthy thing to do. At the same time I wanted more than anything to take his hurt away and make it better. Then I realized that he must feel the same towards me when I am outwardly showing my heartache and sadness. And again I am amazed at this wonderful man that I married. The patience and compassion and love he has freely given to me while his own heart is hurting so much...it is so deeply moving, and yet that can hurt as well. I want to give back the selfless love and support that he has given to me and yet I feel inadequate to do so.
Moving on...
I just watched my slide show again. It is put to the music "Time In a Bottle", which is perfect. It is excruciating to watch. When I see the images of me holding my sweet baby girl I'm overwhelmed by so many emotions. I find myself smiling at her sweet little face. I call to mind what it felt like to hold her in my arms and how her skin felt against my skin. My arms actually start to hurt from the longing to hold her again. I want to snuggle her into my chest and touch my lips to her face and caress her skin. Then as the pictures go on, I see Josh holding her, kissing her, swaddling her and just fathering her and my heart breaks again for what he has lost.
I want my baby back. I want her so much. I have never longed for anything so much in my life.
Josh has been amazing and wonderful during his time home. The other night at bed time, Dominic was having a temper tantrum and Josh sang "Hush Little Baby" to help sooth him and calm him down. I didn't think anything of it at the time, but later Josh commented that it was difficult for him to sing that song again. I had forgotten when writing Lillianna's birth story that as he carried her down the hospital hallway to tuck her into the freezer he was singing that song to her. When he reminded me of that, I told him how glad I was for him that he thought to do all these little things with her like singing to her and swaddling her and what not. He looked mildly surprised and said that he didn't really have to "think" to do them, those were just things he had done with all of his babies.
As we were talking, I could see how very very sad he was feeling at that moment. My heart ached for him. I was glad that he was talking about it and that he was crying and expressing his grief because that is the normal and right and healthy thing to do. At the same time I wanted more than anything to take his hurt away and make it better. Then I realized that he must feel the same towards me when I am outwardly showing my heartache and sadness. And again I am amazed at this wonderful man that I married. The patience and compassion and love he has freely given to me while his own heart is hurting so much...it is so deeply moving, and yet that can hurt as well. I want to give back the selfless love and support that he has given to me and yet I feel inadequate to do so.
Moving on...
I just watched my slide show again. It is put to the music "Time In a Bottle", which is perfect. It is excruciating to watch. When I see the images of me holding my sweet baby girl I'm overwhelmed by so many emotions. I find myself smiling at her sweet little face. I call to mind what it felt like to hold her in my arms and how her skin felt against my skin. My arms actually start to hurt from the longing to hold her again. I want to snuggle her into my chest and touch my lips to her face and caress her skin. Then as the pictures go on, I see Josh holding her, kissing her, swaddling her and just fathering her and my heart breaks again for what he has lost.
I want my baby back. I want her so much. I have never longed for anything so much in my life.
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