52 Weeks Later..

52 weeks ago we found out Henry had HPE. One year. I'm trying my hardest to keep my mind distracted, keep me from reliving my feelings from last year. I definitely don't want to relive my amnio.

And now this is my last week at my clinic. I've accepted a position at my alma mater. I'll be assisting the nursing program faculty in their day-to-day operations. It's a really exciting opportunity - and terrifying.

I'm so pumped to start again. To be in a completely neutral environment. I'm also terrified to be separated from my work-family -- these ladies are amazing!

But, I have to do what's best for me. And my mental health.

But.. seriously? I'm so excited. The position I'll be in is more towards my career. I'll have more responsibility, better hours, and I'll get to work with some seriously great people.

Not to mention, it's closer to home, my gym, and my family.

Optimism wins again!

This is my affirmation for the day. Saltwater, by Finn Butler.

Milestones

It’s almost January 25^th. That’s the day we found out that our expected child was a boy – our little Henry.

I’m getting used to faking it. I’m able to function with other people, be in situations, without completely losing it. I've been good about even being alone.

But this week has been different. My mind keeps on going back a year. I've been involuntarily reliving everything. A year ago, I never would have thought I'd be in this position. Everything went so wonderfully with my pregnancy with Amelia that I never would have even guessed something like this could have happened to us. We didn’t know anyone else who had carried a nonviable baby to term. Well, not nonviable – incompatible with life.

I remember reading that term for the first time. I don’t recall the website, or the article. Just the phrase. And my baby moving inside of me. His strong kicks and his stretches.

I remember waiting for the second ultrasound to look into the cystic images we found with the first. I remember the fear, the knowing that something was wrong. I spent that weekend in a constant state of anxiety. For me – that’s acting out rather gregariously. We went out, I laughed too loudly, tried to be too bright. I tried to talk myself into buying his bedding set – we had decided on a nautical and aquatic theme for his bedroom. I made these plans to make my feeling not true. I tried so hard to believe that I was wrong.

We thought he’d just have a disability. We thought he’d have a hard life, and we’d have a difficult time raising him. We never even thought that he would die.

The last few days, I’ve been alone in my car. It’s really the only time I get to myself. After a moment, I feel something break inside of me – right in the middle of my chest. It’s the walls I’ve been painstakingly constructing over the last few months. I can’t contain the emotion, the pain, as well anymore. I feel like I’m on edge.

Again, I’m in this constant state of anxiety. I’m really tense, I’m trying a bit too hard, I’m either incredibly outgoing or quiet. When I’m quiet, it’s because I can’t speak. It’s because I’m trying to keep my little emotional dam in place. Because, I need to function. Writing it out is helping me understand my thoughts, it helps me acknowledge my pain so I’m not choking on it all day. I can’t drown. I refuse to sink.

I just miss you, Henry. I miss the future I dreamed for all of us.

It seems like every time I get through one big milestone, another is staring me in the face.

We made it through the holidays. Barely.

Now I'm sitting here, with my beautiful daughter shoving ravioli all over her face, and then I realize -- at this time last year, we were so blissful. But twenty days later, we found out that "something" was wrong.

January 25th.

I'm not writing very much here right now. It's all very dark, and I'm trying to avoid posting that stuff. But I'm trying to work through it. While I've been doing this, I feel like I've realized something may be wrong with me. I'm always alone. Not physically. I feel like I talk a lot, but, while I may make friends.. I don't feel like I have any. I don't feel connected to anyone. I don't think I really ever have. I feel like I've been so independent for so long -- I think I'm a little screwed up. I feel like I have a million acquaintances, but no friends. If you consider myself your friend, please don't be insulted by that statement. I value everyone close to me. But. I don't know if my heart is operating the way it should be. I feel like everyone is just passing through. I don't want to use the word disposable for anyone -- except for maybe myself.

Maybe that's normal for this stage of grief. Maybe I'm just cycling through it.

I am in a dark, dark place right now.

All I want to do is lie down and will myself into nonexistence.

I didn't think people knew what they were talking about when they said the holidays are almost worse. Because they are.

Jason and I bought a stocking last year. We knew we were pregnant. We bought a red velvet snowflake for our second child. And found it yesterday, putting up the tree.

Today I just want to be done with it all. I'm angry, and hurt, and betrayed, and lost. My chest feels like there is a sucking wound - with every gasp, it feels worse.

I know, I know, ups and downs. But I didn't think it'd be this far down.

Depictions

I spent a long weekend in New York City with one of my best friends.

It was a necessary escape. I can't thank her enough for offering her home to me. We spent the weekend pounding the pavement, with her playing the role of tour guide.

I was quite proud of myself. I only broke down twice -- once at the Metropolitan Museum of Art, and once in St. Patrick's Cathedral. 

I think I felt mostly anger at St. Patick's Cathedral. It was gorgeous, and there were psalms being sung.. I was moved. And then I saw, just outside of the Lady Chapel, a statue. It was lovely. It was Christ, dead in Mary's arms, tortured. And she looks beatific, peaceful. 

I'm sorry, but, I don't think that's necessarily the best depiction. I feel like it cheapens her. Sure, you can have faith and trust in God. That's not the part that is in question for me. But.. it's her son. It doesn't matter if he's coming back. At that point, she doesn't know. I don't understand why Mary is never depicted as anything other than a gently smiling Mona Lisa figure in the background of the New Testament story.

I relate to her more than most people now. And I just feel that, at least someplace, she should be real. 

Holidays

I'm continuing my trend of attempting to be completely and viscerally honest here.

The holidays suck. They really, really do.

I can see Henry in my mind - exactly how he would have looked. I can see him in my mind at six months, a year, twenty years. I can't stop it. He's living in my head.

Not in a creepy way -- I know he's gone, but, it's there. I'm struggling with the milestones. Thanksgiving was decent enough. We kept it low-key, and mostly enjoyed the naps. But Christmas.

Oy.

My husband and I were talking this morning about ways to make it better. We're involved with a group of other parents, bereaved and struggling with the holidays as well. There's tons of advice out there to lessen the sharp edge of grief, but really, you have to make it your own.

So. Our way of making it our own. We want to donate. We want to make it a tradition, every year, that we pick out a toy that Henry would have liked. Amelia's going to help us every year. We'll pick them out, and find a good charity (Toys for Tots, maybe?) to send the gifts off to every Christmas.

I'd like to open this up to everyone.

If Henry has touched your heart in any way, won't you consider reaching out to others?

If you do, I'd love to hear about it. Either on my Facebook page [https://www.facebook.com/MinneapolisMom] , or here. <3

So it begins.

I guess I didn't believe the other moms when they told me that holidays are the worst.

It just hit me. Like a semi truck.

We should be feeding my boy sweet potatoes tomorrow. We should be laughing about what Christmas will bring. There should be joy.

I've promised to be gentle with myself. But the pain is growing. I feel so raw.

Screaming silently through the night.

Recapping the Milestone

So much for keeping up with the Thankfulness Challenge. Ooops.

I'm not going to recap every day, because I really don't remember each day. I remember highlights.

For instance, last Wednesday..

My husband had wrist surgery.

I went to the Cities 97 Sampler Release Party. With my mom. 

The funny thing about the Sampler Release Party is that there were four bands, and each played four or five songs. It was like a mini-concert. A taste. It was lovely - I was able to see The Wild Feathers, Matt Hires, the Unlikely Candidates, and (my favorite) Delta Rae.

 I lost it, though. During 'Dance in the Graveyards' - I broke down. I'm sure I looked like a cheesy fan girl, but, that song kills me. It's exactly what my father, and my husband, would say/request. And on the day before Henry's six month anniversary.. I was emotional.

We were in the very front - standing room only - second from the stage. It was beautiful, and a wonderful experience.

Thursday - I woke up just sad. I'd been dreading this day for months. Actually, in a small part of me, I've been dreading this anniversary since before he was born. How would I survive his death, much less the following milestones? A month without my family together. Three months. Half a year! How could I possibly go on, without both of my children in my arms?

Thursday morning, I tried to just be mindless. But my heart knew. My body responded to my heart, and not my brain. I shook, I wept. Mindlessly. Grief poured out and I felt like I was drowning all over again.

I put out a call, here, and on Facebook. I asked you all to make someone's day bright. To encourage kindness - in honor of my Henry. Our Henry. And you did. That afternoon, I felt so bolstered up.. it was stunning. It was magical. It felt like I was in touch with Heaven.

Yeah, I know, sounds crazy. But it helped. It really, really helped. You are all amazing.

I actually felt good enough to venture out. I went to a belly dancing class with a good friend on Thursday night. It felt good to stretch my body out -- I felt like I was twisting the last few tears of the day out. I'm always going to cry for him, but that night I felt as if he was still with me. I carry him around with me, tucked into a pocket in my heart. My Henry pocket.

Friday.. Friday was a day. I was exhausted from work, and I just wanted to snuggle with my Amelia -- mind you, I've been out every night since Wednesday, that's a HUGE deal to me, the mommy who never leaves! -- and I was feeling really guilty. But we had tickets to Catching Fire. And it was the eve of Jason's birthday. Yeah, we needed to go. Amelia hung out with (grand)Pa-pa, and we left.

By the way, fantastic movie. I just missed my kid.

Saturday -- okay, okay. I'm not trying to chronicle every single day missed. But this day was pretty important. It was Jason's birthday. He turned 33. That's a pretty big birthday - and we celebrated with our family and friends at the bowling alley. All Jason really wanted for his birthday was to take Amelia bowling for the first time. She loved it.

One happy daddy. He loved helping her -- he even found her 'mark'! Our scores were 203, 152, and 78. I was quite pleased with my 152. Jason bowled his average. Amelia rocked the house!

Jason received tickets to the Gopher's game for his birthday. November 23rd. In Minnesota. IT WAS COLD. But it was really, really fun.

Brr.

And, in closing -- I'm thankful for all of the above.
 - That I'm actually able to breathe after Henry's six month angel-versary.
 - For my amazing husband
 - My wonderful daughter
 - Great friends
 - Feeling like a teenager after curfew - coming home late to my toddler!

Turn it around

Okay.

Okay.

So it's been six months since Henry died. I'm struggling. I'm keeping my happy face on and staying busy, but I'm writhing. My bones feel like they're curling up on themselves, my stomach has dropped, and my eyes are constantly filled. It's rough. I'm not thinking - I'm refusing to actually think - but it doesn't change my physical reactions.

I just want one thing from all of you today. Just one thing.

Could you please go out and do a random act of kindness?

No, seriously.

Go out of your way for someone today. The weather is grey, people are a little down in general, and I really want to see kindness propagated.

Please? Just one kind thing. Pay for the person behind you in the drive thru. Open the door for someone. Give to a charity. Smile at a stranger.

Henry's not here to make our world better. Let's make it better in his stead.

Six months.

It's too hard to blog today, but I have to say something.

This isn't fair. This is not right. This is not the way our lives were supposed to turn out.

I miss you.

Miracles

This is going to sound really, really nasty.

I hate miracle stories. The, "doctors said our child was incompatible with life and we're proving them wrong!" ones.

Yeah. Awesome. You got a miracle.

We didn't.

It makes me feel like we didn't do enough. That we didn't pray hard enough, that we just weren't good enough for God to save our boy.

I've been reading too many of these stories lately, and each and every one of them make me feel like less of a mother.

Shoes!

In three weeks, I'll be in NYC.

I'll be honest - I'm pretty excited about this. It's the first "me" thing I've done in a long time. I'm so lucky to have a family to support me - and my husband - while I'm away!

Today, I'm going to be thankful for my running shoes. They don't see as much action as they should, but I'm working on that. I was looking at my itinerary for NYC and realized I only have a forty-five minute layover in Washington, DC. I'm calculating de-boarding time and takeoff times in my head while looking at the layout of the Reagan airport. I'm starting to panic just a little bit.

Solution? Carry-on backpack; running shoes. I've got this. And I've run enough in these particular(ly bright) shoes that I'm comfortable sprinting through unknown territory in them.

I was super excited about these shoes. They encourage natural running, and feel very reactive.

There's a whole science behind it, but all I know is they feel good. And they're going to do me a lot of good in New York!

http://www.newtonrunning.com/why/science

So, thanks, people of Newton Running! It's a great shoe.

Work!

I recently asked a question on my work's whiteboard. "What are you thankful for?"

I'll be honest. It was suggested to me - but after hearing it, I had to know. Not only because I'm seriously digging for things to be thankful for (it's not even halfway through the month yet!) -- but because I was curious. The responses so far are wonderful. Maybe I'll go snag a few for later this month..

Anyways. Today, I am thankful for my work. Not just my job, not my company -- the work we do together, in my clinic. My role is small - just the front desk - but every so often I am able to understand the impact I have on patient's lives. My team is amazing - a number of strong individual women (and one gentleman) working together to better our patient's lives. We've got this stellar clinic manager -- I'm not going to name her, because then she might be poached by another clinic, and that's just a big NO. I'm constantly floored by these ladies!

I was just feeling incredibly thankful for my coworkers, and my manager. I couldn't get through the day without all of your shining faces.

I'm at Augsburg College, going for my Bachelor's in Psychology. I want to use this to help people. People like me. Heartbroken, anxiety-ridden, normal, abnormal - I just want to help.

Charity

Today, I'm thankful for the charity of others.

The reason we have so many beautiful and precious photos of Henry is due to Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep -- an organization which provides photographers and images to families facing loss. You basically have a photographer on call, ready to go whenever baby is ready.

Our photographer was Megan. She was amazing. I hardly even knew she was there -- and yet, our photos are perfect. These photos are all I have to remember my son's fourteen hours. And I'm thankful for them, every single day. Even when they're hard to look at.

Another organization I'm thankful for is Faith's Lodge. It's a retreat for parents/families who are coping with serious illness or loss of a child. It's a beautiful haven, and just being there was healing.

If you're looking to participate in Give To The Max Day, I'd suggest these two organizations. I really don't know how we could have handled everything without people like Megan and Ev (Faith's Lodge) stepping in to provide some comfort and relief.

https://www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org/

http://www.faithslodge.org/

Catching up!

I wasn't able to blog this weekend - too busy with a certain toddler - but here's a recap of my gratitude.

11/9
Saturday. I'm thankful for my car. It's a Jeep, and it's a monster, but it's got automatic start and I can survive the upcoming winter with it. Simple!

11/10
I'm thankful for great friends -- the kind that you can go to the farmers market with and just have a grand time with in the early morning. Today we went to Bachman's off of Lyndale. The Kingfield Farmers Market moved into their greenhouse, and it's more like a neighborhood fair. A hipster band, fresh mulled cider, fresh bakery items.. beautiful day, great time. Our kids are freaking adorable, too.

Love these two! 

11/11
 Monday - I'm thankful for having a house big enough to keep my distance from my wonderful, insanely sick husband. He's been violently ill all afternoon, and I'm doing my best to keep myself and the kiddo healthy. It's a challenge. I feel so horrible for him, but I'm grateful that we have the space that just may save Amelia from the stomach flu!

11/12
 It's Tuesday! I'm thankful for smartphone-friendly mittens. Isn't that first world?! I'm thankful for the cheap little Target brand mittens I have stuffed in every jacket I own -- I can actually dial with them. And this is important, since I'm trying to win Cities 97 Sampler Release Party tickets. I love me some Delta Rae!

Henry's Cloud

Awe

Today I am thankful for the ability to be awed at the world.

I'm so glad that my breath can still be stolen by individual moments. I'm relieved, actually, that I still have the capacity. I'm finding myself standing, slackjawed and amazed, at little things - just how I used to be, before Henry died.

Today, I couldn't help but steal glances out of my mirrors at a gorgeous sunrise. These happen so often, but each one has a sense of magic.

Today's sunrise -

Sunrise from earlier this week - 

It makes me yearn for a life of beauty. I just want to live somewhere beautiful, with my beautiful family, away from ugliness of human action. There may be some who think I'm talking about the unattractive - I am not. I don't think people are physically unattractive. Here's my Sesame Street moment -- it's what is inside that counts. 

I want to buy a nice D-SLR camera, move my family to a quiet, beautiful location (in Minnesota, I've become attached again!) and just take pictures of everything that makes my heart happy. Why can't we just do that?! What's stopping me?

Well, money. And I'd want to stick close to work, because I really do love where I work - and my family is here. And our daycare lady is phenomenal. 

So I guess I need to find something affordable, beautiful, serene, and in Maple Grove range. Yeah. I'm not quite sure if this is one of my attainable dreams! 

November 7

Today I'm grateful for my husband.

We've been together for (nearly) a decade. We'll fight over the official beginning -- I say it was a Valentine's Day party, he says it was a movie later in the month -- but I like to stick with the more romantic Valentine's Day date.

Ten years -- well, almost. I met Jason at Perkins one night, late January, when that was the thing to do for young adults not quite 21.  He was getting off of a late shift at work, I was just gearing up - we all smoked and partied in the back room. We literally played with fire, laughed, screamed, and enjoyed ourselves.

In retrospect, it's not surprising that I would meet my soul mate there. It was fun - and we were both drawn in.

We've been through everything. Death, life, pain. We're lucky, because we've shared more laughter than tears. We just passed our three year wedding anniversary - and it's been an amazing three years.

I'm stronger with him, and because of him. He is my anchor. We both give as much as possible. We find joy in our daughter - and in memories of our son.

I never want to stop loving you, Jason. Look at everything we've done. I can't imagine any limits to what we can do together.

November 6

I was nervous when I woke up this morning. I couldn't wait - I ran to the window and looked out.

Snow.

Gorgeous, fluffy, freshly fallen snow -- that didn't stick to the streets or sidewalks. This is the best kind of snow there is - all the beauty, none of the transportation headache. It fleshed out the tree branches, sparkling everywhere. The sky lightened from a deep cerulean to a powdery baby blue.

It's gorgeous. I love Minnesota! My view at work is positively enchanting.

What's outside?

November 5

It's election day! Today I'm thankful for my neighborhood.

Not everything in it - but the sense of community I get from my neighbors and elected officials. It's just nice, knowing who represents you in the big city. It's also wonderful knowing that if I have an issue, it's addressed immediately.

Congratulations, Barb Johnson! So happy that you're representing us again!