Bad News

Well, we found out that Henry's heart valves were too small to use.

I think I heard my own heart rip open. I hadn't realized how much I was depending on his organs going on without him. I didn't realize how much pain I would feel if they weren't able to use his heart.

It's all useless. Meaningless.

I'm wondering if I'll ever come up terms with this. Or if I'll be able to pinpoint today as the day that I lost my faith.

I broke down at work and had to come home. I've spent the last three hours intermittently crying and screaming. Why, then? Why?

Everything we've gone through. I've been trying to comfort myself that he will live on. But that's wrong now.

I feel like something has been nudging at my consciousness the lady few days. Some large truth trying to get into my head.  There's no sense to this. No sense at all.

Three o'clock seems like a perfect time to get drunk and clean the house. But I really can't. Husband is picking up the kiddo.

Get it together. She'll be home soon.

At least I had an hour to process and cry. It's all I need, right?

Follow Up

I emailed my Donor Family Advocate today, about Henry's heart valves.

I'm feeling very anxious as I wait to hear back. If they weren't able to be used.. I think I'll feel crushed.

My heart is beating out of control, and I'm feeling faint. I'm waiting. I'm panicking. I'm waiting.

Fairytales

"Once in awhile, right in the middle of an ordinary life, love gives us a fairy tale."

I saw this quote today, and was struck by how absolutely true it was for me.

There was a boy. He met a girl. They fell in love. This is our happier ever after - this is our fairy tale. Once our story moved on to the next chapter, we continued to be happy. Together, we can get through almost anything. He's my rock. I won't flattery myself by saying the same for him. But still - that's what they mean by happily ever after. That once you find your One, life will continue - but now you have a partner to walk the road with.

First came love. Then came lots of fights and tears. And then marriage, and all of the stress of planning a wedding. Then She got pregnant, and made His life miserable for nine months. Then the pair became a trio, and the new addition can not be more perfect. Then we almost became a quartet.. But something went wrong, and we just got sadness.

But we're still happy. That hasn't changed.

Love you, Jason.

The Sun

So, this morning Amelia and I were reading books in her bedroom. It was early, the sun was rising, we were still in our pajamas.

She's currently digging The Very Busy Spider. On the first few pages is a sun rising.

She pointed to the sun, and said, "Mama. Brother."

I choked. She looked at me and smiled, then reached behind me to pat my back and said, "Mama, kay."

This kid is just too smart.

Yesterday

Yeah, it was hard. I stayed as busy as possible. First with work, then getting Amelia to her two year check up, and then to the Block Party my workplace was putting on.

Work was busy. It kept my mind active and away from seething.

Amelia's checkup went well. She's perfect -- which we all ready knew. Before Henry was born, I was in touch with our peds doc and brought her into the situation. If we were to have any hope that he would survive, she would need to know about him. So I brought her in.

And then we had the final MRI. And found out how giant his head was, and how his brain had come to develop. And suddenly she wasn't necessarily needed anymore. So she asked about him. And I spoke.

It hurt. I speak of it in passing, only when my patients press me for answers on how my son is - how we're doing - how big he is now. "He had a brain defect. He only lived a few hours. We're okay."

How much I hate that lie. We're okay. No. Not really. We're surviving. Amelia was jumping on me today, telling me about my shoulders - elbows - head - belly. Then she stopped, pushed my (flabby) stomach in, and said, "Brother?"

I almost lost it. And just writing it now, I am losing it.

...

The Hospital block party was pretty neat. It was absolutely sweltering, but we got to meet some of the new Pediatric Hospitalists that are on call now. Neat. Amelia got her face painted, some goodies (shirt and bag! yay!), and she got to play with her cousins and some new friends. The Teddy Bear Band performed - always a hit.

Getting her face 'did'

Amelia's Hunger Games Capitol portrait

As I was driving home, Amelia dozing in the back, I broke down a little. I hate crying when I'm driving. It's not safe.

Honestly, I feel like.. a teddy bear. With a tear. And my stuffing is constantly falling out. I constantly have to hold myself together to keep moving. Once I stop, I lose more and more. I can't stop yet.

I didn't go to my grief support group. I couldn't do it tonight. I'm hoping next month will be better. That I'll be able to listen, and then, maybe sometime - talk.

Three Months

Well, it's another milestone. Today is Henry's three month Angelversary.

I feel like that sounds a little better than the truth. It's been three months since he left us. Yesterday was bad - twelve weeks. Tuesdays - I loathe thee.

I've noticed that on milestones, I nest. That is to say that I start cleaning. If I work, I don't have to face the truth. My baby's gone. I try to say goodnight to his pirate ship every night, but I know he's not there. It feels hollow. He's gone from this Earth and there is nothing I can connect with to 'talk' to him. I've read that that's a pretty good therapy, writing letters and talking it out. But he's not here. I wonder if he ever was.

I met a group of other mothers who have lost their children. They were nice. I'm not sure if I'm ready for that yet. I feel like my smile is still shaky, and I'm still so raw from the last year.

Thankfully, Amelia's getting over her obsession with babies. It's so hard. And it's only going to get harder. I'm going to start reflecting "at this time last year.."

In November, I'm going to remember finding out that I was pregnant.

In January, I'm going to remember the fear that one phone call instilled in me.

In February, I'm going to remember the anguish and anger accompanying the diagnosis.

In March, I'm going to remember how I didn't want to celebrate my birthday. Because it was wrong. I don't think I want to face another birthday again. It still feels wrong.

I'm going to remember every MRI and ultrasound. I'm going to remember feeling the weightless pull as he left my body. I'm going to remember his face as he passed. I'm going to remember every tear, the anguish on my husband's face, everything.

It's not that I want to forget, it's that I can't. Because it's been playing in my head for the last three months. I can't escape it, and I don't want to. These are the only memories I have of my precious boy.

And even then I feel guilty for feeling this way. Because we knew what would happen. We were trying to prepare for it. We tried. But you can't prepare for that.

I'm trying so very, very hard. I want to get a sewing machine and take my early morning crying fests into a new direction. I want to start prayer flags for Henry. I want them to wave in the wind, and carry my prayers home to him. Wherever he may be.

I want to feel this weight lift off of my shoulders. It's physically weighing me down. My back bends under the pressure of my grief. I feel diminished, alone. But I'm really trying to be present.

Sometimes I get lost. I'm afraid that this'll be one of those days. But it's okay to get lost -- it's okay to fall.

Just remember to get back up.

Surprise

Ha. 

Now when I get upset, I lose it. I cry. 

Need to get back to taking my medication more regularly.. This whenever-I-remember system is definitely not working. 

Progress

Now that I've made the conscious decision to Let It Go, I feel a lightness in my chest.

I can't explain it any better than that. A lightness. It's a combination of feeling a weight lift, and a feeling of a (super cheesy!) inner light. I feel like a lighthouse - kind of?

People. I'm stressing out on how to describe how light and stress-free I feel. I am a walking contradiction.

I feel like I'm finally taking back control of my life. I let it run me for a while, but, dammit! It's my life. I don't need to put on a show for other's, to act they way they expect a grieving mother to act. I'm no where near "over it" - but I can't let it rule me. I have to be present for my daughter. In the moment.

Birthday!

Amelia's birthday party went wonderfully.

Of course, I waited until the last minute to do everything. Not because I'm a procrastinator - I'll tell you about that tomorrow - but because I have a toddler and on weekends I'm basically a single mom. When the hubs works two jobs - one Monday-Friday, and the second job Friday and Saturday night - well, it's pretty important to me that he sleeps as much as possible on Saturday afternoon.

Thankfully he was off on Friday afternoon - he got a nap in before working Friday night, so I didn't feel too horribly guilty waking him up to help me clean/prepare the party at 9am. I went to pick up the cake and balloons at 10, and was back by 11.. but didn't have a chance to make the food. So the first hour of the party I was jetting about in my kitchen. Banana roll ups - who knew how easy they'd be?! Banana, tortilla shell, PB and jelly/honey -- or with just Nutella. But they still take time, of course.

She loves balloons!

Sunday - Jason took me to Pride and Prejudice. Lovely. Absolutely lovely. It felt very abridged, though. And they scaled the characters back like they did in the most recent movie.. for instance, Bingley's sisters and brother-in-law were combined into one Miss Caroline Bingley. And Elizabeth's aunt and uncle were scaled back to just her aunt.

I felt like it was adapted from the movie, rather than the novel. Oh well.

I find myself brooding a lot these days. I'll be honest - I've been really forgetful in the Zoloft department. I'm not off-my-meds crazy (considering my medication level is a minimum therapeutic dose - 25mg rather than the 50mg that's generally prescribed first) -- but I wonder if it's messing with me. When people are casually rude, or just generally heartless towards me.. I want to say, "Do you know what I've BEEN through?!"

But I don't - because that would be using my son for myself. No. It's just not right.  I'm not going to 'milk' my situation. I smile in the face of blatant rudeness (ahem, people - be nice to the receptionist!) - and move on.

Speaking of smiling in the face of rudeness.. I was convinced to call the people who want to interview me back. But because I didn't call back immediately (Wednesday night, missed call -- Thursday, new baby, wasn't able) - the HR woman was incredibly rude. I was on the fence earlier about even looking into this - and now I'm determined to stay where I'm at. I love my job - and I think that little Miss Scarlett's birth may have neutralized the negative feelings that I had for the hospital. I finally feel at ease in my skin, again. I'm starting to relax again. I feel like I can really do good where I'm at - and I can use my job to further launch my career once I'm done with school.

Miss Scarlett!

I love my son. I rejoice in the time we had with him. I'm still sad, but I'm becoming a master at letting it go.

Let. 

It. 

Go. 

August

This week has been interesting.

Last week we went on our first family vacation. Jason, Amelia, and I jumped in the car and drove out to Bayfield, Wisconsin. We were there for our friends' wedding - it was gorgeous, by the way! - and we decided to take a few days to ourselves. We spent Tuesday in Duluth, then Wednesday through Sunday in Bayfield.. and then another afternoon in Duluth. We saw trains, planes, boats. We picked raspberries and blueberries, and did a few wine tastings. We went on a shipwreck tour. We were busy! Amelia had a blast, and Jason and I were happy to be able to sit on the deck of our rented condo and just watch the waves of Lake Superior.

It was hard to come home. I wouldn't mind moving to Duluth. We could open our game store, enroll Amelia in a safer school. We would be establishing our family in another area. Pioneers. But we'd still be close enough to visit family. It's beautiful - the air is fresh and laced with the clean smell of the massive lake. Lying in our hotel room on that first night, I felt my core physically relax. I hadn't realized how much stress and pain I had been carrying around in the Cities. I'm trying to let that go - but being back for less than a week and I've noticed it returning. It's the feeling of the world crushing down, my shoulders keep on sagging and my posture keeps on slipping. It's physically painful to be back. I just want to be quiet and try to keep myself going.

It's the quiet that helps me strengthen myself. I either have to be constantly going, or quietly breathing. If I'm not physically moving, I'd rather be quiet.

I felt guilty leaving Henry's ashes at our house - does anyone else feel this? He should have been with us for our first family vacation. I had dreamed that he would be there - because we just didn't know how long he'd be with us. Before February, before we found out, I had been scoping out little tuxes for him to wear. Because I knew it was a boy. It was an absolutely beautiful time - surreal, even - but would have been perfect if my son were able to be there. It's just something I've dreamt of a lot. [Congratulations to the New York Fingletons, btw!]


Amelia's birthday was wonderful. I have a two year old. We went to Chuck E. Cheese - more for mommy and daddy than for her. She loved the toddler area with the slide, and just being with her family. Mommy loves Skeeball, and Daddy rocked the Price is Right ticket machine -- he made it to the bonus round! We both failed miserable at the Deal or No Deal game.

Many of you know that my sister is pregnant. Strike that, was. She now has a beautiful little girl. Scarlett Jane. Scarlett and Amelia are birthday cousins, too! 8/7 and 8/8 - forever linked in birthday parties. Except for next year - I demand that Scarlett have her own first birthday party!

It's funny, because Jenny and I are six days apart. Our daughters are even closer. I really hope that it's an indicator to how close they're going to be. Marina's all ready a fantastic big sister - but I think big brother Ronan is still getting used to the idea.

See? I'm crying again. I'm so happy - Scarlett is just a beautiful girl! And she has a fantastic family to grow with.

I've been worried about how I was going to handle Jenny's labor. I was terrified that it would take place in the same room that I was in for those four days. The room where Henry died. The room I'm looking at every day at work - my view at my desk is a straight line into that particular room. It's hard.

I don't know if I've completely reconciled working at the hospital with the place where we went through so much. I don't know if I can.

You see, I love my job. I love my coworkers. I love my hours. I love my company. There's not much I can say against it. The only thing is the location. I'm constantly barraged with reminders of that time. It's not good. But it's not bad. It's just.. hard. Really, really hard. I've been contacted by another company about a position in my former career (police support). It'd be different hours -- nights -- but it's a rather large increase in pay. And it's closer to my home. And I wouldn't have to be yelled at by angry women on some days.

But.. I love where I'm at now. Am I harming myself by not looking into this?