Happy 3rd Birthday In Heaven

My beautiful beloved little boy,

I can't believe it's been 3 years since we said hello and good bye to you. There are times when it feels like just yesterday. And there are times when it seems like a million years ago. Your daddy and I love you very much and we miss you like crazy.

I know it might not seem like it nowadays since we are so busy taking care of your little sister, but we haven't forgotten you.

You are still there... just pushed a little bit back in our minds. Not because we don't love you... but because it's not possible to focus enough on taking care of your sister while thinking of you constantly.

In the beginning it was easy to think of you night and day. But now that Frostina is here, we have to focus on her.

Please know that you are not being pushed aside. You are merely working your way into the patchwork of our lives. You have become part of the thread that holds this family together. We were not the same before you, and we will never be the same since we lost you. It is because of you that we are the strong, loving family we are today.

We appreciate everything so much more now that we know just how it feels to lose someone we loved so much. Even though we never got to know you, we love you and miss you everyday.

So while you may not be the first thing we think of when we wake up anymore. While you may not be the last person we think of before we fall asleep anymore. While we don't cry ourselves to sleep each night missing you anymore. Please know that you are still an essential part of our new family,,,, and an even more essential part of our new normal. Without you there would be no us. You will always be a very special and important part of our lives.

Oh, and I hope you don't mind that we let Frostina play with your birthday balloon for a few days before we released it. She just loved it so much and we figured you would be old enough now to want to share.

Love always,

Mommy and Daddy, and your little sister, Frostina.

Homecoming, A Year On

A year ago today we brought Frostina home from the hospital.

I was still in complete awe, amazed that I actually had a living baby to bring home this time. Coming home with baby in tow was so much better than the time before when I came home empty handed.

The house had gone from being completely lacking in baby things to overflowing with baby things. A sea of pink as I recall. It was a wonderful day even though I was super tired and still sore from my c-section.

A year later and my house is still overflowing with baby things. It never ceases to amaze me at how easily your house can fill up with baby equipment and toys. Some things, like her swing, have already been moved into the garage. So the pile up in there grows as well.

She is still not really crawling but she's an avid cruiser. She only cruises to the right at the moment which is pretty funny. As a solution I have placed chairs and her toys in a circle so she can keep cruising non-stop. Before I came up with my circular "cruising track" I had to keep picking her up and moving her back to the left whenever she reached the end of the line.

I also made the phone call today to have my saline sonogram done. It's one of the prep steps we have to do before we can move forward with trying for rainbow baby number two. As long as my uterus looks clear and healthy then we can take that leap.

A year ago I was staring at my tiny newborn with wonder. Today I stare at my almost toddler with the same wonder. I hope that feeling never goes away.

I'm Finally Packing For Three

It feels like my blogging life has come full circle.

Or it's about to.

Where it all started,,, it's about to return,,, but with a much happier result this time.

It's surreal on many levels.

I almost can't believe it's actually happening.

If you would have told the me of 2 years ago that this day would come I'm not sure I would have believed you.

And yet here it is.

We are planning a trip home to see the family. We leave in a couple of weeks and I've got so much planning and packing to do.

A trip we do and prepare for every year.

But this year we are actually bringing a living, breathing baby with us.

No ashes in an urn.

A real living baby.

A real living baby!!!

We get to do all the things we had planned before....

A christening.

Family photos.

Sharing our joy with our loved ones.

Such a different place from where this whole blogging journey began.

That day, almost two years ago, when I wrote this post and Finding My New Normal was born.

Friday, 5 November 2010

I should be packing right now.

I really should be packing. We are flying home to see the family for the first time since losing our son in August. This was going to be the first visit home for him to meet his grandparents and extended family. But instead of bringing home a happy baby, we are bringing home his ashes in a tiny plastic urn. Instead of being held by his loving parents, his ashes will be scattered in a beautiful place that we both love. It is not fair and I do not want to have to be doing any of this. So this is why I am not packing yet. Because once I start packing I have to face the reality that I am only packing for 2 and not for 3.



A post about packing for a trip home is where it all began.

And today I once again write about packing for a trip home.

But today things are very different than they were that dark and sad day in November of 2010.

This time around I'm finally packing for three!!!

Two 4 Month Milestones, Oh How Different They Are

I can't believe that in a couple of days my little Frostina will be 4 months old. I'd like to say that the time has flown by but that would be a lie. Life with a colicky baby moves at a snails pace. You find yourself counting down the days until the crying passes. Everyone tells you that 12 weeks is when that happens. So you wait and you wait and you wait.

Then at 12 weeks it happens! The colic passes just like everyone tells you it will. It's like magic. And it's wonderful.

She is like a different baby now. She's happy and playful and mostly only cries when she needs something. We've been getting out more now and doing fun things like baby groups and gymboree. She loves gymboree, especially the bubbles. She opens her mouth like she wants to eat them,,,, it's so cute.

She has just barely started to grab things and I'm still amazed each time I see her do something new. She has almost outgrown her moses basket so we've been putting her in her crib (cot bed) now. I was quite nervous about that, but with the video monitor with it's night vision I can actually see her better now in the dark than I could before. So if the need strikes (which it still does) I can watch her breathing in the middle of the night.

Back in December of 2010 I was experiencing a different 4 month milestone. It was 4 months since my son was born still. I wrote about it here. The two experiences couldn't be more different. 4 months out from the death and birth of my son vs 4 months out from the live birth of my daughter. The same amount of time.... yet completely different emotions.

I still think about him all the time. What he would be like. What he would look like. What kind of big brother he would have been to Frostina.

I saw a woman walking yesterday with a little boy who was about the age my son would have been. She was also pushing a buggy with a little girl who looked the same age as Frostina.

I started to cry when I saw them walking in front of me. They were a picture of what could have been. What should have been. What will never be.

Happy 2nd Birthday In Heaven

I'm a day late on this because yesterday was crazy busy and very emotional. 

Two years my sweet boy.
Two years since you were born silently into this world.
Two years we have been learning to live without you.
Two years.

We miss you terribly. I wish you were here with us. I wish you could be here to meet your little sister. I wish we could have been a family of 4.

Two years and I miss you just like it was yesterday.

Happy Birthday in heaven my sweet baby boy.

Two For The Price Of One- The Mother's Day Special

When you move to a new country you probably don't think much about public holidays. I know I didn't when I first moved here to England. After all, they're part of the culture of your new found homeland. They are a celebration, and everyone loves a celebration,,, right? Well, not always as I have learned.

You see, while Father's Day is the same in the UK and in the US, Mother's Day is not. So I have not one, but two Mother's Days to get through. A bit like those special buy one get one free offers you see in the shops. Normally I love those things, but not so much this time.

Why am I even talking about this? Well because today it's Mother's Day in the UK.

It's such a bittersweet day for me.

• Two years ago I was happily pregnant with my Son. My head was filled with the dreams of all the Mother's Days we would spend together. 
• Last year I spent the day without him in my arms. It was not at all the day I had imagined a year before. 
• This year I am pregnant again, and yet still grieving my son. My head is filled both with the dreams of all the Mother's Days I will (hopefully) spend with Frostina, and all the sadness of the ones I won't be spending with my Son.

The Hubby has an interesting strategy for dealing with the whole two for the price of one Mother's Day dilemma. He insists that today isn't the real day because we're from America. Since US Mother's Day is in May, that's when we should be celebrating (or not celebrating) it. I don't know if this will really work for him, but I know it doesn't fly with me. After six years of living over here, I'm pretty immersed in the British culture, public holidays and all.

Today I will lay low and probably not leave the house. Thus reducing the chances that I will run into all the happy Mothers spending the day with their living children. I'm not sure I'm ready for all that just yet. Part of me thinks that being pregnant again should make this day easier. The other part of me realizes that it probably won't. So I won't be taking any chances.

I'll just hunker down and wait for this day to be over. And then, lucky me, I get to do it all over again in May. Ahhh, the fabulous life of an expat! 

To all the British Baby Loss Mums out there, I wish you a gentle Mother's Day. I'd like to think that our babies are smiling down on us from above.

Photo courtesy of CarlyMarie

Finding My New Normal - A Year On

Wow, I can't believe I've been blogging here at Finding My New Normal for a whole year now. Well, actually it's been a year and two days. The actual anniversary was on the 5th of November but I was on a plane flying over the Atlantic Ocean and was unable to post. I could have pre-planned something and have it scheduled to post on that day but I've been away visiting family and am not nearly that organized.

When I first started this blog I was a broken woman. My son had died and I was overcome with grief. Frozen in a lot of ways. We were getting ready to go home and visit the family. A trip that we did every year, except that this year was supposed to be different. We were supposed to be bringing our new baby for everyone to meet. But life had other plans for us.

Instead of bringing our new bouncy baby home, we were bringing his ashes home in a tiny urn. I still remember that feeling when I got the suitcase out of the closet to get ready to pack for that trip back home. I just couldn't do it. I couldn't pack for 2 people when I should have been packing for 3 people. That empty suitcase prompted my first ever blog post. And thus, Finding My New Normal was born.

It was rough going in the beginning. I was a total rookie to the world of blogging. Looking back I can see that I struggled to find my voice. Partly because writing down my thoughts was new to me, and partly because I just had too many thoughts to sort through. I was deep in the trenches of grief and filled with raw emotion. I can see it all in my early posts. The sadness, the anger, the devastation. It makes me cry to even skim through some of those early posts because it puts me right back there.

I've always written this blog for me, and in the beginning that's who was reading it,,,, me.

I didn't have any followers at first. For a long time I figured I wouldn't ever have any. I mean, who wants to read a blog about a dead baby?? If I had not lost my son I know I sure wouldn't have. But amazingly, this new version of me was hoping there were other women out there like me. So my search began to find some other BLM's (although I didn't know that's what we were called yet).

It's not easy to search for blogs,,,, did you know that? Especially when you have never read any blogs before. So my task was not an easy one. But somehow I managed to find a few women who were struggling like me. I stalked their sidebars and comment sections for others. And soon I had found a group of amazing women who were trying to move on with their lives after losing a baby. Women who understood how I felt. It was so nice to know I wasn't alone out there. I started following them, and to my surprise, they started following me back.

I have found so many amazing bloggers on this journey. In the beginning I connected most with women who had suffered a loss like mine. As time went on I reached out to my fellow infertiles for support as well. I have also connected with bloggers who aren't like me at all. Because we all struggle with something, and we all need support at times. I've found an amazing community here in bloggy land.

After a month or so of blogging I knew I was hooked. Inside my head all these emotions were flying around that I didn't know how to deal with. It was when I sat down to write that I was able to make sense of them.

It's almost like I have to take them out of my head and put them down on paper (or the computer screen) in order to sort them out. As a non-writer this concept amazed me. Not only was I able to figure out exactly how I was feeling, but I also got feedback from people who have walked in my shoes. I wasn't crazy,,, I was just grieving. I can't tell you how much that helped me.

A year on I am sitting in such a different place. A place I couldn't have even imagined a year ago when I was buried in the fog of my grief. I am still grieving my son of course. But it's not the overwhelming burden it once was. It's forced it's way into my life and found a way to fit in with everything else. I am able to feel joy and happiness again. I am able to have good days where I don't cry. I am able to understand that some days I still need to cry and that's ok too.

I am pregnant again. Wow, that brought out some tears,,, give me a minute or two to compose myself.

I am still in total shock about being pregnant again. It's still very early days and one thing I've learned is that a positive pregnancy test does not ensure a healthy take home baby. But I'm hopeful which is something I wasn't sure I could be after my loss.

So have I found my new normal yet? That really was the intended goal of this blog. To help me figure out what to do next. To figure out who to be next. To figure out how to live a life without my son.

I suppose in some ways I have. In other ways I've still got a long way to go. But life is about the journey, and this blog is

Buying His Balloon

It's a simple task, buying a balloon. People do it every day. It's a simple task, except when it's a balloon that you plan to release in honor of your stillborn son.

I knew it wasn't going to be an easy thing to do, so I had the hubby come with me. I was in full denial/distraction mode. I was just going to walk into the shop and buy a balloon.

That's all.

Simple.

I take a deep breath and walk up to the counter. "I need to get a helium balloon for a little boy's birthday." The woman asks me his age and then pulls out a stack of them, all with different designs and characters on them. I am completely overwhelmed, it never occurred to me that there would be so much choice. I tell myself to focus and remind myself to breathe.

"What does he like?" This is the question the woman asks me, noticing my hesitation.

My heart breaks with a smash, and a crash, and a thud. I feel like someone is wringing my insides with their hands. My mouth goes dry and my eyes fill with tears.

"I don't know," I tell her.

I don't know.
I don't know.
I don't know.

I don't know what kind of balloon he would like because he is dead and he can't tell me. So I have to guess. No one should ever have to guess what kind of balloon her son would like.

"This one will be fine," I tell her.

Hand in hand, the hubby and I walk out of the store holding our balloon and trying not to cry on the walk home.

*Pouring my heart out with Shell at  Things I Can't Say

Are You There New Normal? I'm Still Trying To Find You.

Come out come out where ever you are...... no seriously, stop hiding... ok this isn't funny anymore, just tell me where you are so I can find you already.

I tweeted this last night and it hit me that it would be a great opening for a blog post. Poetic in a way, and yet so very much how I'm feeling right now.

It's been a whole year now since my son died and was born. A whole year. I've been through a full year of milestones now, lived through all the "firsts." A whole year navigating my way through the fog that is grief. In a way it's an accomplishment, but I'm left asking myself where am I now?

The main reason I started writing this blog was to try and figure it all out. How could I possibly live without him? What would a life without my baby be like? How would I manage normal day to day things? How would this change my relationship with the hubby? So many questions to muddle through and no guidebook to help me figure it all out.

As I have said over and over again, I loved my old life. I was happy and healthy and babies didn't die. When I heard those terrible words (there's no heartbeat) from the doctor I knew life would never be the same.

• I knew I would have to grieve and that things would be different but I did NOT want my entire life to fall apart. 
• I knew that I would be sad for a while but I did NOT want to be completely devastated all the time. 
• I was absolutely determined to get my life back. And not just any kind of life,,,, but a life where I wasn't crying in public and falling apart at the slightest things. 

So a year on how am I doing on my quest for a new normal? I've had lots of moments where I felt like my entire life had fallen apart. I've had lots of moments where I was completely devastated all the time. I've had lots of moments where I cried in public both with and without the shield of my sunglasses.

But I've also had happy moments. Moments when I felt hopeful. Moments when I had fun with my friends. Moments when I was so in love with the hubby I thought I would burst. Moments where for just a while I forgot that my son died and just allowed myself to experience joy.

Some days I think I'm doing pretty well. Other days it's like I'm right back at the beginning. Days when I am hit with a flashback out of nowhere. A day like yesterday.

Last night the hubby informed me that some of his employees will be in London for a meeting in a few weeks time. His team is scattered across several countries so they only get together a couple of times a year. For years we have invited them to our home on one of the nights for dinner. We try to impress them with some good old American food. Usually BBQ chicken and corn on the cob. I used to make my "famous" chili for them which was an absolute favorite all around.

I used to make chili for them. In fact I made chili for them the night before I found out that my son had no heartbeat. You see, we were supposed to host them all for dinner that night after my scan. I had bought a bunch of chicken and spent hours making the chili the day before because we all know that chili tastes better on day 2.

So immediately after we get the news that our lives have been shattered into a million pieces we have to call his team and tell them they can't come over for dinner that night. When we get home I'm faced with a HUGE pot of chili. What on earth am I going to do with all this chili now? Neither of us were hungry that night as I packed my bag in preparation for my C-section which was scheduled for the next day. So the pot sat uneaten in my fridge until my lovely friends came over to clean out the nursery and baby stuff. I told them they could eat it but I've always suspected they dumped it down the sink.

So last night when the hubby suggested having them over again I knew what was coming. "They really want some of your chili this year," he tells me. Apparently they love it so much that it's been specially requested. I'm not sure if it's the timing of this visit to the one last year, or the memory of making the chili itself,,, but I totally lost it.

Hysterical crying about chili! *Yes, about chili.*

"I can't make chili for them," I tell him. At first he doesn't realize why,,, because of course he had forgotten about the chili. But not me. Apparently chili is now a trigger for me. I realized that I haven't made chili since my son died. And I'm certainly not going to make it again, in August, for the same people as the night before my life fell apart.

So how's that new normal going??? I'm not sure just yet. I feel like I take 2 steps forward and then 1 step back. It's frustrating sometimes, but I try to be gentle with myself. After all, if I really want the life I love back then I have to start by loving myself,,, right?

**And apparently in my new normal I no longer make chili.

We Survived... Thanks For Helping Us Through This

Saturday we celebrated my Son's first birthday in heaven. I want to thank all of you for your love and support through this very difficult time. Your comments and emails brought much needed light to a very dark time. I want to thank all of you who released balloons for my son. A baby you have never met.

I loved getting the photos in my inbox. I plan to publish a post with all of them very soon. I just need to figure out how to make one of those cute photo collages first.

I also want to send a special thanks to I'm So Fancy and Jane from wordgeyser who wrote posts in honor of my son. Words can't express how happy I was to find your lovely posts in my reader. Here are the  links if you want to go and check them out. They're wonderful and I highly recommend you give them both a visit and a read.

• I'm So Fancy's post
• wordgeyser's post

It wasn't an easy day for the hubby and I. As we were just back from a week away as part of Operation Distraction, we couldn't just sit around all day and cry. We had actual things that we needed to take care of. Including food shopping, which I smartly ordered online and had delivered, picking up prescriptions, and of course getting his balloon for the balloon release.

At first I was angry that part of his special day was taken up doing normal mundane things, but then I realized that actually it was more "normal" to have other things to do.

Time doesn't stand still for grief.
Life doesn't stand still for grief.
Even when you want it to.

It was "normal" to have to do other non-dead baby things on Saturday. Because in the year since my son died, life has gone on. We still need to have food in the house. We still need to pick up medications. We still need to get more light bulbs. We still need to do all the normal things that normal people do.

Grief is an additional layer to a normal life. At first it's a smothering layer that blocks out all light and oxygen. But as time goes on, it finds a way to incorporate itself into the other layers of your life. Six months ago I wrote about the layers of grief. I had forgotten about that post until I began to write this one. Looking back at my words, I don't think I have much to add. Except that with time it does get easier to live life while also living with grief.

Obviously his birthday will always be a tough one for us. A day when the shiny top-coat we've painted over our grief chips away and we are left raw and exposed. A day when we feel that pain again, as if it had just happened yesterday. As if we had not even begun to heal.

A day when the layer where we keep our grief again becomes exposed and is once again smothering and all consuming. This feeling is like a familiar unwelcome friend who comes to stay and refuses to leave. A feeling that lingers longer than you want it to,,, but not for as long as it did in the past.

Yes it was a tough day. But we survived, because that's who we are now,,,, survivors.

One Year Ago Today

One year ago today a 36 week pregnant me went in for one more growth scan and found out that my son had no heartbeat. I had no idea anything was wrong and could swear I had just felt him move. But I was wrong, they told me he had been gone for at least a few days.

That was the moment that my life fell apart.

I have spent the past year trying to pick up the pieces.

The Balloon Release Is On! Want To Join In?

As many of you already know, August the 13th, 2010 is the day my son was born silently into this world. This Saturday it will officially be one year since we had to say good bye. It's such a painful thing and yet I wanted to figure out some way to honor his memory and very short life. I wrote about doing a balloon release here and was amazed at the positive response I got from all of you.

After reading my post and all your responses the hubby warmed to the idea. So I composed a short email and sent it off to family and close friends. Most of them live somewhere besides the UK so I figured an email was the best way to get the message out. I sent a copy to the hubby to make sure he was ok with it. He loved it and even asked me to send it to his family who at first he was a bit hesitant to reach out to.

Asking for help isn't something that comes easy for either one of us. I think that most of our family and friends think we are strong people. The kind of people that have their shit together and don't fall apart when things get tough. I think they would tell you that we have handled the loss of our son with dignity and grace. I've actually been told that by someone. I remember thinking, "Dignity and grace??? Can't you see that I'm dying inside?" But instead of saying that I just said thank you.

For whatever reason, we have hidden the depths of our sorrow from those around us. For whatever reason we feel the need to put on a public face. So this makes reaching out to ask others to join in honoring our son extra difficult for us. But I did it and it felt good. I'm proud to have reached the point where I can do something like this.

I stressed in the email that there was no pressure to join in, that it was strictly optional. I got some amazing responses and promises of participation. Time will tell what kind of response we get on Saturday, but it felt good to get the request out there. I absolutely love the idea that there will be balloons released all over the world in memory of my beautiful son.

It felt so good to ask others to participate that I am also going to extend the invitation to you, my lovely blog readers. I would absolutely love it if you would consider releasing a balloon in honor of my son this Saturday, the 13th of August. I would love it even more if you could take a photo of the balloon and send it to me. Someday I hope to gather enough strength to purchase and put together a memory book for him and these photos would be a wonderful addition.

I know that I blog anonymously and that I have never told you my son's name. But I wonder if you would be willing to do this anyway? To honor a baby boy that was very much loved and very much wanted?

To honor my son who I miss terribly?

Operation Distraction

I am back from the lovely US of A. Even though we didn't go to Washington DC as tourists, we did catch a few sights while we were there. Tomorrow evening we're off again, this time to Barcelona. The hubby has to go for work and I've decided to tag along. I will be spending quite a bit of time on my own since he will be pretty busy, but it beats being home alone, especially this week.

Our tourist excursions in DC and the week in Barcelona are all part of "Operation Distraction." You see, in addition to being officially in my 2 week wait from our donor egg IVF cycle it is also only one week until our son's first birthday. It's a lot to deal with all at one time so the idea is to keep me busy so I won't have lots of time on my own to dwell on things. I'm not trying to deny either event or it's significance and will give each it's due focus and respect of course. But the less time alone sitting on my couch I have to obsess, the better.

The timing of these two things couldn't be more bittersweet for me. On the one hand I'm super excited to think that this cycle could work and I could be pregnant again. On the other hand I'm super sad to think that it's been almost one full year without my precious baby boy. When we began this cycle it never even occurred to me that we would be waiting on results right around the 13th which is his day.

In fact, I felt a huge sigh of relief when I found out that my beta test won't be until the 17th of August. I'm not sure I would want to be having my pregnancy test results back before or on his birthday. I'm not going to cheat and pee on a stick before the 13th either. I want his birthday to be all about him, not about joy or sorrow over pregnancy test results.

As I mentioned before, we will be releasing a balloon to honor our son's memory. We will do ours privately but will be inviting family and close friends to release their own as well. Sometime this week I've got to draft that email letting people know our plans and inviting them to participate, but first things first.

So today it's a rush of laundry and re-adjusting to UK time. Tomorrow night I will be tucked into my bed at the hotel in Barcelona. I will of course be taking it easy to give that little embryo time to snuggle in for the long haul. I figure it's just as beneficial to lay on a lounge chair by the pool as it is to lay on my couch. Plus I won't be having to do any housework or dishes while I'm in Barcelona so really I'm going to be taking it easier than if I'd stayed home, right?

Operation Distraction is in full swing. Here's hoping it helps pass the time!

How To Honor His First Birthday?

We are still working out exactly how we want to honor our son's first birthday which is quickly approaching. I can't believe it's almost August 13th again.

I've been putting it off because thinking about it is so terribly painful. In a way I suppose I have been focusing a bit more on our IVF cycle than on my grief. It is easier to think about the future and all it's possibilities than the devastation that happened to us almost a year ago. As I wrote about here, the hubby is worried that we are somehow trying to replace him or that we will forget about him. But I have not forgotten, I am incapable of forgetting.

We have been very private in our grief so a big party is not for us. Plus the family lives in the US and we live in the UK so there's no way to get everyone together even if we wanted to. I think what we will end up doing is lighting a candle and releasing a balloon. Just the two of us.

I'm also toying with the idea of inviting my family and close friends to join in. Not with us in our back garden, but inviting them to release their own balloons. We did not have a memorial service or funeral for our son. It was too much for us. We had a private blessing and released his ashes on our own. It was what we needed at the time but I sometimes feel like we didn't give the rest of the family a way to pay their respects.

So I was thinking that if I let them know what we were doing then they could release their own balloons if they wanted. Or not if they don't.

I was even thinking they could take photos of their balloons and send them to me. Again, only if they wanted to. I could keep all the photos with the other mementos we have of him. That I may someday transfer to a memory book, but for now are all in a filing box. The hubby is a bit unsure about all this, but I'm leaning towards it.

So my lovely readers, what do you think of my idea to allow family and friends to join in?

Happy... Sad... Scared

These three words describe how the hubby and I are both feeling right now.

Happy
We got our fertilization report yesterday. Out of the 8 eggs that we were got from our donor (we did a shared cycle), 5 fertilized. Now I'm a total IVF rookie so I don't know if this is a good number or a bad one, but we are both feeling positive about it. We booked our SUPER EXPENSIVE last-minute flights to Washington DC in preparation for our transfer which is set for Wednesday.

It's so odd to know the exact moment of fertilization, when you get pregnant on your own or via IUI (which is what we did last time) you don't know that exact moment. But with IVF you do. That moment when the possibility of a new life begins. One cell that has divided into two with all the possibilities attached to it. Two cells that we hope divide into four, and so on and so on. Two cells that could perhaps grow into a healthy baby boy or girl that we could take home and welcome into our family. So much hope attached to those two cells. It's actually quite amazing when you think about it.

Sad
In the midst of all the hormone injections and fertilization reports we are also approaching a very difficult milestone. On the 13th of August it will be exactly one year since our son was born still. I struggle with what to call it. Is it his birthday? Technically yes because he was born on that day. But he died sometime before that so he wasn't alive to be born. Is it his angelversary? I suppose it's a more descriptive term but again I have a few issues with that term. I don't know what to call it, and it doesn't really matter I suppose. It is the day he was born and it will be a difficult one for the hubby and me.

Yesterday the hubby had a sad moment. I think he's been holding it all in, trying to be strong for me. But yesterday it all came out. He feels like we are replacing our son with this new potential baby. He doesn't want to replace him. He worries that with all this focus on our donor egg IVF cycle we have somehow forgotten about him. He reminded me that a year ago our son was still alive. I had a doctors appointment where we heard his heartbeat. That's the last minute I know for sure that he was still alive.

It is sometime in these next two weeks that he died and I didn't notice. "They could have still saved him then," the hubby kept saying, "He was still alive and they could have saved him." If only playing the what-if game worked. If only I could go back in time and be more vigilant, perhaps they could have.

We had a good cuddle and a cry over it all. I think we both really needed one. Especially him. I think it's so much harder for men to allow themselves to go there. To put down their walls and just feel. I love that the hubby knows that he doesn't always have to be strong for me. That sometimes I can be strong for him.

Scared 
We really want those five little embryos to continue to divide and grow. We really want to be able to implant one or two of them and have it grow into a healthy, happy, living baby. But we are also scared shitless. What if we have another loss? Will we be able to handle it? How on earth are we going to be able to get through another pregnancy without losing our minds with worry? It's a huge leap of faith,,, one that we are willing to take,,,, but we're still really scared.

A Love Letter To My Best Friend

My advice to you,,, make sure you marry your best friend. That's what I did 13 years ago today, and it's the best thing I've ever done.

Over the past year life has been flipped upside down, turned inside out, and pretty much ripped to shreds. Losing my firstborn son at 36 weeks is by far the most devastating thing I've ever had to endure. I know for a fact that there's no way I could have made it through without my amazing hubby. There's no way.

He's been my rock, the voice of reason, and my lifeline this past year. 

We've navigated our way through grief together. Hand in hand. Sometimes I fall and he picks me back up, and sometimes he falls and it's my turn to pick him up. Perfect partners making our way through the minefield. Making it all up as we go along. Figuring out our own path.

It hasn't been easy. There's been lots of tears and lots of hugs. We've supported each other when various family members have been unkind. We've supported each other through some very difficult milestones. Each step along the way has been difficult and often painful. But the love and support I feel from him makes them all possible. I'm so lucky to have him.

We went out on Saturday night to celebrate our anniversary as this is his first day back to work after our amazing holiday in Spain. I just realized that I have forgotten to buy him an anniversary card. So I decided to write this love letter to him here instead. I hope it will do.

Happy Anniversary, I love you more than words can say.