Freedom

I am confined and restricted.

I am being pushed through my day with no control over where I am going.

I struggle to be released from my shackles.

I cry and no one hears me.

Then finally, the straps that bind me are released.

And I am free.

I am free to run with the wind in my hair.

I am free to go where I please.

I am joyful and free.

Now if only Mommy would stop chasing me.

Flash.... Backs

2010- The world stops. She can hear her husband sobbing inconsolably. He is screaming, "No, no. Do something. Can't you save him?" She can hear his wails but is completely numb. She feels nothing.

Flash

2014- I am driving to my 36 (almost) week scan. Frostina is with a sitter and The Hubby is out of town. I am blasting the radio and singing along.

Flash


2010- She and her husband are sitting in the room waiting for the doctor to come in and do her ultrasound. While they are grateful that they have a doctor to do all their scans, it's annoying when he runs late as he is prone to do. They have already waited over 30 minutes just to get in the room and now they are waiting again. She is annoyed because she worries that the smoothie she drank to wake the baby up will "wear off" before the scan finally starts.

Flash

2014- It's my 36 week scan. A huge milestone for me. In my first pregnancy it's where things all fell apart. A fact that I am doing my best to repress. After all, I decided to try and focus on the good things and not the fear this time around. I turn the radio up and sing a little louder.

Flash

2010- She is 36 weeks pregnant with her miracle baby. There were lots of worries along the way but once they got the good results at their 20 week scan she has been anxiously awaiting the arrival of their much wanted baby boy. They are all clear.

The day is hectic. Her Hubby has invited a group of his employees over for dinner because they are all in town for a meeting. He has escaped this meeting for the scan but has to rush back once it's over. The plan is to have the scan; meet with her OB to discuss the results; and then he goes back to work and she goes home to finish cooking the chili and tidying up the house before everyone arrives. So this delay for the scan is quite annoying.

Finally he goes out to see what the delay is. After all, they both have a very busy day and they have waited long enough. The doctor comes in a few minutes later full of apologies and excuses for his tardiness. He readies the machine and begins the scan.

The two of them look to the screen to see their little boy.

He begins to focus on the head and starts to take measurements, just like normal. But then there is a hesitation. She notices but brushes it off. He backs up the scan and starts again. This time looking at the head from a different angle, and then another. Then he quickly switches views to one she isn't familiar with. His tone changes and he starts asking her questions.

Flash

2014- She knows what's coming next. This memory has been creeping up on her for weeks. You can repress these things but somehow they have a way of catching up to you. She can feel the tears well up in her eyes as she drives down the Florida Turnpike.

Flash

2010- When was the last time you felt the baby move? The answer was an hour ago, just after the smoothie. She finds out later that this couldn't possibly be true. He goes on to ask if there has been a decrease in movement lately. The answer was, "Of course because we all know they run out of room at the end."

Flash

2014- The tears are now flowing. Turning up the radio and singing loudly doesn't deter them.

Flash

2010- She can't figure out why he is asking these questions while flicking the ultrasound machine from one body part to another. He wants to know exactly when she noticed a decrease in movement. He asks several ways before she finally becomes alarmed. "Why do you want to know this?" she finally asks.

Silence.

Flash

2014- Stop thinking about this. Think about something else.

Flash

2010- "Why do you want to know this?" she asks. It's at this point that she feels her hubby gripping her hand very tightly... though she takes no notice.

Pause

"Why are you asking me this?" she asks again. This time she is starting to sense that all is not well.

"I'm so sorry, there's no heartbeat."

Flash

2014- Seriously, why are you going there? You need to stop. You are driving. You promised yourself that you wouldn't do this to yourself this pregnancy. Things are going so much better this time. You have a diagnosis, you have medication, and this baby is doing much better than your son or Frostina. You need to snap out of it. NOW!

Flash

2010- The world stops. She can hear her husband sobbing inconsolably. He is screaming, "No, no. Do something. Can't you save him?" She can hear his wails but is completely numb. She feels nothing.

It's pandemonium at this point. The girl assisting the scan leaves the room. Shortly after that, their OB enters the room to confirm the devastating news. There are no signs of life, their baby is dead. Based on what they can see, he has been gone for at least a week.

Flash

2014- To this day I still can't belive I didn't know. I still can't believe that I thought I could feel him moving... even after I knew he was gone.

It's raining outside now, a reflection of my inner mood. But again it's time to snap out of it. I promised myself I would.

Flash

2010- Phone calls have to be made. She calls her parents in California and wakes them up. She has lost track of time and has no idea what time it is for them. Her Hubby has to call his employees to tell them he won't be back for the rest of the day, and that the BBQ and chili dinner are off. They want to know why and of course he has to tell them. 

More sobs and wails from her Husband, but she is still completely numb. The truth won't hit her for hours, but when it does it will feel like a building falling on her.

Flash

2014- Ok, enough already. I'm serious... it's time to snap out of it. You have to drive in the rain and you don't want to get into an accident now do you?

So I wipe my tears and pull myself together. It's been a very long time since I've had any flashbacks and I can't say I miss them.

This whole episode happened to me last week and it's taken this long for me to be able to write about it. I swear, just about the time I think I've got my grief under control it comes back to let me know I don't. I read a post earlier this week that Brooke wrote about grief coming to visit when you least expect it. Well I'm here to testify that grief is truly it's own entity and it comes to visit on it's schedule, not yours. No matter how hard you try to avoid it, it's always just around the corner.

Shields Up

This pregnancy I have become a master at defense mechanisms. Not by choice really, but it seems to be my standard operating mode- Full Shields Up.

I spent the entire pregnancy with Frostina being scared. Petrified would be a better word. I was sure that at any moment it would all go wrong again. I fretted and cried and fretted some more. I made myself miserable with stress and fear and worry. I'm not upset at myself about it because it was the only way I knew how to be pregnant after a loss. It was my standard operating mode.

This time around things are very different. For one thing, I have Frostina to chase around. Plus there's the international move, trying to find a new house, and getting my new life sorted here in Florida. I am busy and have much less time to sit around being scared.

But it's more than that I think. I think this time around I just can't be fearful the entire time. I can't be worried all the time that this baby will die. I barely survived a fear-filled pregnancy and I think I just can't do it again. So my smart little brain has figured out how to put the walls up and help me to focus on the rest of my life, not just the pregnancy. I have no idea how it happened or how long it will last. I may wake up tomorrow and feel completely different,,, and that's ok,,, but for now this is how I feel and what seems to be working for me.

A bit of the old me has crept back in. The old me that stayed away from sad and scary stories. The old me that truly believed that ignorance in some cases is bliss. The old me that actually allows myself to believe that being pregnant means you will be coming home with a living baby in the end. I'm not as foolish as the old me though. I do know that avoiding bad thoughts and stories doesn't protect you from having them happen. This time I am choosing to focus on the positive as opposed to hiding from the negative.

I have found myself shying away from many of my old haunts here in the internet. I am no longer drawn to every sad story of women who like me have lost children. Not because I don't care about them or don't relate anymore,,,, because I still do. But more because I don't need to connect to the pain of others the way I used to. There was a time when I craved that kind of affirmation, to know I wasn't alone. But now it all feels a bit too much, a bit too indulgent, a bit like I need to spend my time focusing on my life as it is now.

Trust me, this is not a happy, I'm over it now post. I'm so not over it. But I can't dwell on it like I used to. I can't let it consume me day in and day out. I have to do things like paint Baby Olea's room in the new house and go through Frostina's old clothes to see how many are suitable for the sunny Florida climate.

I have to move forward and live my life. And for now that means not dwelling so much on the past. Never forgetting my beloved son of course, but perhaps filing things away. Away behind the defensive walls, behind the shields. The way you put important things away in a very safe place you know you can revisit when you need to. Put away for safe keeping as opposed to being put in a frame sitting in your front room.

A Fresh Start

In preparation for our big move back to the USA we have been de-cluttering. Going through drawers and dark cupboards throwing away all the things we saved thinking we would want someday. I am amazed at how much clutter a family of 3 can manage to collect.

It can be very freeing to get rid of old stuff. I think we tend to collect it because it feels comfortable and sometimes a clean sweep is just what we need. I love the look of a newly cleaned shelf (with lots of space to buy new stuff to shove there someday). It somehow feels like a fresh start.

All was going well until I stumbled across my trusty Bag O Meds. If you've even done any kind of fertility treatment you will be familiar with this, in fact you may have one of your own. Its the bag you put all your various medications and needles in when you're in the middle of treatment.

I don't consider myself a superstitious person, but getting rid of this bag before I have another healthy baby in the house is hard for me. It almost feels arrogant to assume that just because I'm 22 weeks pregnant that all will be well and I will never need to inject myself with another vial of progesterone in oil again. Obviously that is the dream, but I know all too well that pregnancy can go wrong at any time.

So what to do with the bag and it's contents? US customs and immigration rules are very strict these days. You can't even bring food into the country in your shipment due to new bio-terrorism laws. I'm sure they would make exceptions for medicine, but do I really want to take a chance that our whole shipment will be held up in customs just for a superstition? I could carry it on the plane with me as I have done so many times before when I was in treatment, but with all the other luggage we will have it seems impractical.

When I asked The Hubby for advice he shrugged and said to dump it. He seemed confused at my hesitation. I then reminded him that I didn't get rid of the lupron left over from Frostina's IVF cycle until after she was home from the hospital. In fact, when I dug Bag O Meds out from the garage to stuff it full of medication for the cycle we just did with Baby Olea it still had progesterone and del estrogen bottles in it, expired of course.

So getting rid of it all; the needles, and the alcohol swabs, and the cotton balls, and the bandaids, and the vials of medication, and the injection schedule I got from the clinic; getting rid of it all before Baby Olea is with us is a tough one for me. Because I would rather hold onto it (just in case she says in a whisper).

But holding onto this particular bag in this particular set of circumstances just isn't practical. So I took a deep breath, grabbed a trash bag, and got to work emptying the bag. It was easy and it was hard.

I'd like to say that when it was done I felt more free. That I was happy to have a clean sweep and a fresh start. In reality I have anxiety about it. It's silly I know. If the retention of specific objects could keep babies alive then none of would ever find ourselves in the Baby Loss Mom's Club in the first place. But I found comfort in the ritual.

So now I've just got to move on and try to enjoy my fresh start.

Frostina At 20 Months

Frostina is 20 months old now and is growing leaps and bounds. Her vocabulary is amazing, it seems she learns a new word every day.

She is also growing more independent which is a good thing,,,, and a not so good thing. I am also noticing that the terrible two's are a-coming. Or maybe they are already here.

Here are some tidbits about what life with Frostina is like these days.

She likes to bring me things when I'm sitting on the toilet. She doesn't seem to grasp the concept that I don't really want them.

She randomly says "fuck." The first time she said it was in context (after bumping her head). Now she just spouts it off from time to time. She's even saying it for the babysitter. I swear I heard her say it at Gymboree today. Makes me so proud.

Speaking of Gymboree. Frostina has decided that she no longer needs to do what the rest of class is doing. She would much rather go rogue and do whatever she feels like. She's even missing bubble time which used to be her favourite. When it's time to leave she throws a huge tantrum,,,, nice.

She is still addicted to her binky. I have considered trying to limit binky time but then she started teething again (canines) so I'm leaving it for now.

She cried last week when the babysitter left but doesn't seem to cry when I leave.

She likes to bring me bits of fluff and crumbs off the the floor and say, "yuck." Though if the treasures she finds happen to be food then she eats them and says, "num num." Depending on how old the food is (don't judge me on my lack of vacuuming) it makes me say, "yuck."

She loves to feed herself which is super messy. She is proud of the fact that she can eat yogurt all by herself, holding the container and everything. She likes to take huge spoonfuls which overflow out of her mouth making a yogurt goatee. It's a very pretty sight.

She likes to crawl up on me while I'm sitting on the couch. Sometimes it's because she wants a cuddle, other times it's just a ploy to grab my phone off the table beside me. I'm just waiting for her to dial 999 (that's the UK equivalent of 911) when I'm not looking and then try to explain to the police that it's not a real emergency, just a toddler playing with the phone.

She alternates between giving her baby cuddles and throwing her baby on the floor. Note to self: do not let Frostina hold Baby Olea until she grows out of this.

We have explained that Mommy has a baby in her tummy. Sometimes she will point to my belly button and say, "baby." I can't figure out if she really understands or if she thinks that the word for belly button is baby.

She calls every small child, "baby." If she sees herself in a mirror or a photo of herself she also says, "baby." It's pretty funny when she calls children older than she is babies.

She is obsessed with balls, cars, birds, and dogs and will shout loudly the appropriate word whenever she sees one.

I think she has figured out that I am too tired to chase her around most of the time. Her response is to run around even more whenever I'm trying to get her to eat, sleep, change nappy, put shoes on, put coat on, etc. She finds this chasing game quite hilarious.

There are often tantrums during transitions. Even if she is hungry, she will protest going into her high chair. We also have issues with getting into the buggy (stroller) even though she loves to go outside.

I am obviously saying, "sit down" and "stop" too often because she is now saying both of those things to me. This morning when I was trying to get her dressed she said, "stop Mama." I've also caught her telling Pooh Bear to, "sit down" when she was trying to put him into the dolly's buggy.

She loves cuddles and kisses.

She likes to wear her mittens in the house, but when we're outside in the cold she refuses to keep them on.
 


She is adorable and amazing and exhausting all at the same time. I love her with all my heart.

17 Weeks And In Denial

I had my 16 week check up last week and all is well with little Baby Olea. My doctor has a small portable ultrasound machine so even on non-scan appointments I get to see her. It's always nice to have a peek to see how she is doing. Especially since I have an anterior placenta this time around so I hardly ever feel her moving around.

Does anyone have experience with anterior placentas? Will I feel less movement the entire pregnancy? Or just in the beginning?

On the way home from the appointment I realised just how much I am still in denial about being pregnant. When I was pregnant with Frostina I could barely sleep the night before any doctors appointment because I was absolutely sure I was going to be told bad news. I would stress for days before each scan.

This time, not so much.

Denial is a funny thing I guess.

It's easy to be in denial at this point. I'm in the just showing/could be getting fatter phase of pregnancy. I'm still wearing lots of my pre-pregnancy baggy sweaters so most days if you didn't know you would be afraid to guess. It's only on days when I'm wearing my maternity tops that it's more obvious.

Not really being able to feel Olea yet contributes as well. As does the fact that I have Frostina to chase around and keep my mind occupied.

I do have a few reminders that snap me out of my denial. The no-booze thing for one, and then there's the list of foods I can't eat. At least I'm remembering about them.

Oh, and I'm obsessing about baby names. I'm hoping that once we decide on her name that this baby will feel more real.

Perhaps this denial is a defense mechanism. I was so incredibly fearful during my pregnancy with Frostina that maybe my brain can't do it again. So instead it pretends to "forget" I'm pregnant so that I won't be so terrified this time. Either that or I'm just too tired chasing Frostina around to obsess like I did last time.

It's quite a strange phenomenon though. Though if experience serves me well, I'm sure it's one that will pass soon and the panic and fear will set in. So maybe I need to enjoy it while it lasts.

The Pregnancy **After** The Pregnancy After Loss

A lot is written about pregnancy loss and almost as much is written about pregnancy after a loss. I've done quite a bit of writing about it here and on various other pregnancy loss blogs, grief blogs, and on BlogHer about this very subject and I've done a bunch of reading on the topic as well. I suppose you could say I've become a bit of an expert on the subject. Not that this a subject that anyone wants to know intimately, but sadly that's how things have happened for me.

We hear about the shock and horror of the initial loss and the complete and utter devastation it leaves in it wake. We cheer for these women as they struggle to pick themselves up, dust themselves off, and put the pieces back together.

We read about their subsequent pregnancies with trepidation. We leave encouraging comments for them and wish them all the best. We wait with anticipation for them to be blessed with their rainbow babies. Those amazing and precious babies that come after a loss. We are so relieved for them when we know that they have finally had their "happy ending."

But what about the pregnancy after that?

I've just begun to navigate my way through the pregnancy after the pregnancy after loss. I wasn't expecting it to feel any different than my previous pregnancy, but it does. Last time around my experience was that every time I get pregnant, my baby dies at 36 weeks. I had no other alternative in my head. My only experience of pregnancy was of tragedy and loss.

I now know what it feels like to have experienced both sides of the coin. One pregnancy where my baby died and my life was shattered. Another pregnancy where my baby was born alive and healthy. One ride home from hospital with empty arms crying into my husbands chest. And another pregnancy where I rode home with my beautiful daughter and struggled to figure out how to get the car seat to latch into the car.

Last pregnancy I was "sure" that things would go wrong. This time I'm more hopeful. I'm less fearful. I'm able to think ahead and start looking for double buggies (strollers). Not to buy one of course, because that would be tempting fate. But at least I've allowed myself to do the research. You have no idea what a big step that is. If you've been around for a while you will remember that I didn't allow anything in my house for Frostina until after she was born.

It's not all goodness and light though. I certainly haven't reverted back to the person I was during my first pregnancy. The person who just knew that once I had my 12 week scan and all was well that I was for sure going to be bringing home a healthy baby in the end. I know all too well that there are no guarantees in life.

I know full well that even if you are a Baby Loss Mom, you don't get a free pass for all future pregnancies. One of my fellow BLM's just had her baby after her rainbow baby and it was not all smooth sailing. She had some complications right near the end that nearly resulted in another terrible loss. If it weren't for her absolute insistence that something wasn't right, and her brilliant doctor who followed her gut, things may have ended badly. Thankfully, all is well and she was able to take her beautiful daughter home with her.

I have a 50/50 history with pregnancies, which is much better than the 100% fail rate I had last time. I know those odds still look pretty grim to those of you who don't live in a world where babies die. But from where I'm sitting they offer hope. I have now lived the happy ending, and I want it again. More importantly, I believe I can have it again. That's a huge mind set change from last time around.

I have no idea if I will feel this way throughout this pregnancy. It's entirely possible that as Baby Oleo's due date approaches, all the old fears and paranoia will return. All I know is that this pregnancy is different than the last one, and I feel differently about it. It will be interesting to reflect on just how different it is as time goes on.

Have any of you been through this? If so, how did you feel during your pregnancy and how was it different than the one before? Oh, and what do you call the baby after your rainbow baby? Are they a rainbow baby as well?

One Perfect Heartbeat

What lovely words I've just typed as the title to this post.

One perfect heartbeat.

That's what The Hubby and I saw at our ultrasound today. Well actually what we saw was a fuzzy blob with a dense center that was flickering like crazy. Since this isn't our first pregnancy, we knew instantly that our little embryo was officially viable.

What an amazing feeling.

So here we go again. Our third pregnancy. Our second pregnancy after a devastating loss. Do they call the second pregnancy after a loss a rainbow baby too? Maybe that's just for the first one.

I feel very different than I did when I was pregnant with Frostina. I just went back and looked at my blog post after this same ultrasound and I realize that I am in a very different place now.

Obviously I have Frostina to chase around and keep me too busy to obsess about every little detail. But the biggest difference is that I'm not nearly as terrified. Of course I know all to well that things can and do go wrong. Of course I know just how devastating that can be. Yet somehow, I am able to be optimistic. In spite of everything, I feel hopeful, and that's something I was unable to feel at this early stage with Frostina's pregnancy.

So I hope that's progress. And obviously I hope and pray that everything continues to go well with this pregnancy. I hope and pray that in July of 2014 we are able to bring this baby home to join our little family. I hope and pray for take-home baby number two!

I hope and pray.

Of Course I Tested Early

Obviously we all know you are supposed to wait until beta test day to find out if your most recent assisted fertility treatments have worked.

But obviously I have ZERO patience so I always test early.

Just peed on a stick and the result is......... POSITIVE!

It's early days for sure and I won't know until beta day (next Tuesday) for sure. This could be a chemical pregnancy, but I'm hopeful that it's not.

Fingers crossed everyone!

Such A Cute View

Frostina was a bit of a late crawler which had me pretty worried for a while there. Once she got the hang of that it wasn't long until she was walking. It's been nice to finally see her being able to keep up with the other toddlers her age. *Side note- I love that I can say I have a toddler* She is having a blast exploring the world around her.

Now that she's walking I notice that I do a lot more chasing than I used to. She's getting really quick these days. Especially if I have forgotten to shut the baby gate or a door leading into a forbidden room. Then she's off with a squeal and a flash.

I find I spend quite a bit of time looking at the back of her, and the view is pretty cute. Don't you think?

Exploring our back garden

Checking out her shadow

On the way to the Halloween Parade

At the local park

The Same, But Very Different

I've started my Lupron injections which means my current donor egg IVF cycle is officially underway.

There are lots of ways that this cycle feels very much like the ones we did a couple of years ago. I have dug out my Bag 'O Meds from the garage and filled it up with a new batch of medication, needles, cotton balls, alcohol wipes, bandaids, and of course my sharps container. I have printed my injection schedule and am crossing off the days as they go.

I'm feeling like I remember feeling the last time I started on all the hormones. I have been crying at stupid things like X-Factor. Not that X-Factor is stupid of course, but it's nothing to cry over. I'm nervous and excited just like last time as well.

But this cycle is very different than last time for one huge reason; and that reason is Frostina.

It is very different going through an IVF cycle when you have a living child to take care of. The last time around I was broken and lonely and absolutely desperate for a living child. Not just to fill the hole left in my heart when my son died, but to finally complete our family. I spent hours upon hours obsessing over every detail of my upcoming cycle. I had everything mapped out. I had a special place to do my injections and quite a bit of mental warm up before each one. I was focused.

This time around I just don't have the time to be obsessed. I don't have the time to calm myself mentally before doing each injection. I don't have time to focus. This time around I have to work them around Frostina and her needs.

This means that my daily injections look a bit like this.

1. Wait until after Frostina has finished her morning milk. Otherwise she will run around the room with her sippy cup leaving a trail of milk in her wake.
2. Put a children's program on the TV (hooray for the electronic babysitter).
3. Quickly dash out of the room when she's not looking and go to my bedroom.
4. Collect Bag 'O Meds from the closet (where I have to hide it from Frostina).
5. Unpack meds and do injection.
6. If Frostina starts crying before I'm done, try my best to ignore her and hurry up.
7. Clean up, making sure not to leave anything behind that Frostina can get her hands on.
8. Go back out to the living room and hope she hasn't managed to get into anything she wasn't supposed to when I was gone. 

Thankfully once the Lupron is done I can do the rest of the injections in the evening after Frostina has gone to bed. That will make things much more calm.

IVF- More Than Just An Injection Schedule

I'm not feeling very eloquent these days but I want to do more in this space than just list the stats and dates for this donor egg IVF cycle. There are a million places where you can read about all that and since I'm not a medical expert but a blogger, I realise that what I want to do here is talk about the journey.

It's easy to get caught up in the dates and the schedule and all the acronyms. You have to keep track of when to start each medicine and when to stop. Injections are carefully timed within a few hours of each other each day. In my case I even have to figure in time differences so that when I travel abroad I don't end up having to get up in the middle of the night to do them. It would also be nice if I could figure out a way to not have to do them on the airplane,,, but I fear that may be unavoidable.

Maybe I've been focusing on the dates and stats and appointment dates because it's easier than letting myself focus on my feelings. After all, it's a pretty scary thing to jump back on the IVF bandwagon. The hormones make what is already an emotional time a super-duper emotional time. Super-duper isn't really the right word of course but this early in the morning it's all I can come up with.

Ultimately, all the planning and injections and appointments have an end goal. This isn't just an exercise in timekeeping. It's all about the result. Will all this effort result in a pregnancy? Will a pregnancy result in a healthy baby?

If I'm not pregnant then I have to do it all over again. If I'm not pregnant, do I have the strength to do it all over again? I try not to focus on this part because I have to get through this cycle first. But at times it's hard not to get ahead of myself.

This time around I don't have nearly as much time to sit around dwelling on my feelings. I've got Frostina to look after. Frostina, my beautiful rainbow baby. She's my inspiration here. A reminder that if you don't take chances you don't get rewards. She is proof that all this can be worth it.

Frostina is almost 16 months old now and boy does she keep me busy. I hope that being busy with her will help keep me from obsessing. Not completely, but just enough so that I'm not the complete neurotic mess I was the last time. Or maybe I still will be a neurotic mess, just one with less time to be that way.

I start my Lupron injections tomorrow. Just in case you were wondering about my injection schedule. :)

Family Holiday

We are on holiday! Or on vacation for my American friends. It's not the first time we have travelled with Frostina, but this is the first time it really feels like a family holiday.

We are somewhere in the sunny south of France and are loving every minute of it. My parents are here as well, visiting from the US, which makes it even more special.

Today we spent time hanging out at the pool. A first for Frostina who absoultely loved it. She was so cute splashing around. A true water baby.

So here's the view from where I'm sitting. What a lovely view it is!

Yes, that is an actual photo of Frostina. Even from the back you can see just how cute she is!

Crawling At Last

We have mobility at last! It's about freaking time!

I have been worried for a long time that Frostina wasn't crawling. When all the other babies in her playgroup were crawling around, she was happy to sit and play. She knew how to roll but hardly ever did it. Instead, she would play happily until she wasn't happy anymore. Then she would cry until I moved her to a new toy or the jumperoo or brought something interesting for her to play with.

Clever girl had me trained well.

She has been cruising for a while now and I started to think that she would be one of those babies who skipped crawling and went straight to walking. This was OK in theory, but I still worried that by not crawling she would miss some kind of development milestone that could hurt her in the future. *Note- I realise I sound completely neurotic, and I am. I accepted this fact about myself when it comes to Frostina a long time ago.

So imagine how shocked I was today when she decided that she wants to crawl. I swear it came out of nowhere. She has been rocking on all fours for a while now but no signs of real movement. I think all her new found mobility when she's cruising has motivated her to not just want to sit in one spot anymore. She was crawling and doing this funny scoot all over the place today.

The hubby and I are so proud of our little crawler. I know a year is quite late to get started, but we're so pleased she's finally figured it all out. 

I suppose it's finally time to do some real childproofing now.

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 Can Look At Babies Again

I've always loved children and babies,,, always.

I started as a very young babysitter for all the children in my neighbourhood. In fact, I babysat until I figured out that all the rest of my friends were going to parties that I was missing out on. I had dreams about my future babies; what I would name them, how I would dress them, and how they would fit into my life.

I loved when I would catch a baby smiling at me from across the room. That little cute face with it's little toothless smile. Ahhh, it used to melt my heart. I'd do anything for that moment.

And then something happened. My baby died at 36 weeks.

My beloved son died before he had a chance to be born. I will never forget seeing him for the first time, lifeless in the bassinet the hospital provided for him. Just a shell of a real baby, there but not there. His body was intact yet I knew his soul had already passed on.

After that I couldn't look at another baby. Whenever I passed a mother with her baby buggy I would look away, not wanting to see her living baby mocking me. Babies became a reminder of what I had lost. Each cute toothless smile was like a knife in my heart. "Look at me, I didn't die," they would say to me. "My Mom did something right and protected me, unlike you did for your baby."

Seeing a living baby became a slap in the face.

So I avoided babies for a very long time. As much as a person can avoid babies when she lives in a town full of babies.

But something has changed. Changed as a result of having my wonderful rainbow baby Frostina in my life. I can now look at babies again.

It came slowly I think, or maybe I'm just slow to notice it. But somewhere along the way, looking at babies doesn't hurt as much. Just today I was out without Frostina and I caught myself noticing all the baby girls I came into contact with. I was trying to figure out if they were older than her, or younger. If they were cuter than her or not,,,, of course none of them were cuter than she is!

That's when it hit me. I can look at babies again without it taking my breath away. Looking at babies used to be a grief trigger for me, but not anymore.

Now I just look at babies and smile again.

Still Not Crawling

Am I failing her?

That's the question that's been in the back of my mind lately.

Am I failing Frostina? Am I a good mother? Am I doing it right?

The Hubby is constantly telling me what a great job I'm doing. Frostina is eating well, and sleeping well, and happy most of the time. And yet the feeling that I'm doing something wrong still plagues me.

Why am I worried?

She's almost 10 months old and still not crawling or pulling herself up. She can sit very well and loves to stand up when I pull her up. She can even balance herself for a few minutes while she is standing against the couch. But I have to put her in position first. She knows how to roll over yet she rarely does. Basically she stays in one position until she gets bored. Then she complains a bit until Mommy comes to the rescue.

She has hated tummy time from the beginning. It was only a month or so ago that she would tolerate it for any length of time. I've been trying to put her on her tummy a lot lately and it seems like when she's in the mood she can go for quite some time before she gets unhappy. She can rotate herself around in a circle and sometimes pushes herself backwards a little bit, but still no crawling.

Everywhere I go I see babies younger than her scooting, rolling, army crawling, bum shuffling (I love that expression), and full on crawling. I see them pulling themselves up and trying to couch surf. I watch Frostina get frustrated when she can't reach something she wants. I watch her sway from side to side on her belly, not being able to figure out why that doesn't propel her forward. Some days she's desperately unhappy because she's stuck in one spot. And yet still no crawling.

I have tried everything I can think of to help her along. I lay next to her and hold toys out of reach. I place my hands on her feet to encourage her to push against them. I have tried putting a towel under her belly and suspending her in the air so that her knees and arms touch (she hated this one by the way). I praise her when she pivots around, and yet still no crawling.

Lots of people tell me I'm lucky because once she starts moving I will never be able to sit down again. In my head I know that babies develop at their own pace. But deep inside I worry that it's something I've done. Have I let her spend too much time in the jumperoo? Have I been too nice by always rescuing her when she cries. Is this a sign that she's somehow developmentally delayed? If so then what on earth have I done wrong to cause it?

Ugh, this Mommy guilt is killing me.

Not So Far Away After All

Lately I have been feeling like my son is very far away. I don't mean my grief. My grief is never far away, even after over 2 and a half years. I mean that I feel like he is far away. Slipping into the background. Slipping into the shadows. Like he's somehow getting lost in the hustle and bustle of normal life.

Far away from my everyday thoughts. Far away from my everyday life. I still think of him every day, but it's different now. Now that my everyday thoughts are filled with Frostina. My everyday life is full of taking care of her basic needs. Feeding her, changing her, washing her bottles, washing her clothes, taking her places,,,, it is all consuming.

Which often leaves little space for him. So he gets pushed back. Away from my everyday life. Until he feels so very far away.

But then something small happens, and he's back. Right there. Front and center. As if he never left the middle of my heart. As if there was never anything besides his loss in my life.

This time it was a simple comment made by someone who had no idea what she was saying. Something she probably says a million times a day without even thinking about it.

I take Frostina to Gymboree classes (which she loves by the way). The current term is about to end and they are running a special if you sign up early. You get a discount and four free classes. I was asking the lady if the four free classes are part of the normal term, or if they are four extra classes on top of what you normally get. The woman explained that they are above and beyond the normal term. Bonus classes she tells me.

"You can either use them for her, or if she has any siblings you can let them have the classes."

If she has any siblings.... if she has any siblings. That sentence echoed in my head. If she had any siblings, like let's say her older brother who died before he was born. If she had an older brother who she could play with instead of just hearing his name. An older  brother who could actually play with her instead of just being able to play with the teddy bear that was meant for him.

If she had a living brother, then he could use the extra four classes.

But she doesn't, so I guess she will just have to use the classes herself.

I was overwhelmed with sadness. Her far away brother, the one who I feel is fading away, will never be able to use her extra Gymboree classes. He can't play any active role in her life, because he isn't here. And I was reminded just how sad that makes me.

I'm sad that I will never know him. I'm sad that The Hubby will never know him. But I'm even more sad that Frostina will never know him.

The tears came and I did my best to fight them off. I mean seriously, who cries at Gymboree? It took a few minutes but I eventually won the battle with my tears. And I'm pretty sure no one noticed, or if they did they were too polite  to say anything. 

That's when I realized, maybe he's not so far away after all.

The "Me" Before

She was telling a story. Remembering things from the past. Talking about how much fun I am. Talking about how I throw the best parties. Telling everyone that I'm such a good cook. Saying how she was so happy to be moving back to London because she and her husband really missed us. They missed us because we are such good friends and we are so much fun.

Who is she? She is a friend that I met when I first moved to London almost 8 years ago. She was friends with me before tragedy hit. She was friends with the old me, the "me" before. She moved away a month before my son died. In fact, she delayed her departure so she could attend my baby shower. That was the last time she saw me until a few weeks ago.

Who was she telling her stories to? She was sharing this information with some of my new friends. Friends who didn't know the "me" before. As she was walking down memory lane, sharing stories about fun times and crazy moments I could see looks of wonder on the faces of my newer friends. I could tell that they didn't recognize the "me" that was being described in the stories. In a way, neither did I. That person seems so far away now.

It's been just over 2 and a half years since my precious baby boy died. A lot has happened since then. I have come out of the fog of early grief and despair. I have gone on to have my rainbow baby and know the joy of parenting a living child. I have slowly and deliberately carved out a new life for myself, a new normal.

I am no longer frozen in time. I no longer count each day without him. I no longer cry for hours every day. I suppose it's fair to say that I have moved on with life. I have moved forward to a place where there is still some sadness, but there is also much joy.

But I am forever changed. You can't go through something as devastating and soul destroying as losing a child and come out the other side the same person. It's just not possible. Moments like this create permanent marks in our lives. There will never be a time when I go back to being that person. There will always be "The Me Before," and "The Me After."

I don't think too much about the person I was before my son died and was born. I guess that's because it's been such a tough road to get to the person I am today. I'm still in the trenches trying to find my way to a happier place. So I rarely look back anymore.

But this week I caught a glimpse of the "me" before when I listened to her stories. And I really missed the woman I used to be. They way she talked about me made me remember just how full of life I was. How idealistic  and positive I was, even in the midst of an almost 8 year battle with infertility. I had a joy for life that I haven't been able to recapture just yet.

It was quite an interesting evening. Sitting with a mix of old friends and new friends. Friends I knew on either side of the tragedy that was my son's death. Two very different sides of the same person. I could see that my new friends did not entirely recognize the woman she was describing. The "me" before threw a lot of parties and cooked up a storm, the "me" after has much fewer parties and hardly ever cooks for her friends. The old me would never turn down a chance to socialize while the new me sometimes does.

It got me a bit nostalgic about the past. I know I can't change anything. There will be no magical transformation back to that fun loving, much less complicated person. But maybe I could try and bring a bit of the fun back. Not just for them, but for me. There was a time when I loved having people over. There was a time when I loved cooking for friends. Perhaps I need to try and recapture that feeling.

Perhaps it's time for me to invite some friends over for a BBQ sometime soon.

When To Drop The "Dead Baby" Bomb

I've been blogging since a few months after my son died and was born. Along the way I have connected with other bloggers who share my story. There is a special bond between us, we are sisters in grief. Many of us have gone on to have our rainbow babies. Some have stopped blogging, but a few of us have continued. It's been nice to be able to see how other BLM's are dealing with life after our rainbows are born.

I was particularly touched by something Laura Jane wrote recently. She wrote an amazing post about living in the everyday after losing a baby.  So much of what she said hit home with me. How do you live each day for the rest of your life where your first baby died? I won't try to recreate her thoughts here because she did it so well, so make sure you click the link and read it for yourself.

The part that really got me thinking was about how everything in her current life is the way it is because her firstborn son died. It's so true. Everything about my current life is the way it is because my son died. Nothing in my life now would be exactly the same if he had lived.

Yes, I have my rainbow baby now and to the outside world I'm sure I look just like every other new mother. Only I'm not. For the longest time I surrounded myself with familiar friends. Friends who know my story. Friends who don't ever need an explanation for why things are the way they are. Safe friends.

Now that Frostina is in the world I'm doing lots of new things. I've entered the world of "Mommies and Daddies." I'm in a playgroup and have even joined a Gymboree class. All the things I dreamed of doing with my son but never had the chance to do. I'm finally living the life of a parent who has a living baby,,, and I'm loving it.

The issue though is this. None of these people know my story. So within the course of the normal "getting to know you" conversation I have lots of landmines to step over. Sometimes I catch myself telling a pregnancy story and about halfway through I realize I'm talking about my first pregnancy, not my second. When people find out Frostina was born via C-section and was early and they ask why I still struggle with the answer. Sometimes I say it's because she was transverse (which she was). Sometimes I say it's because my pregnancy was high risk but I don't elaborate. And in very rare instances I tell the truth.

I just never know how much to tell. How much to disclose about my personal tragedy. After all, new friendships are fragile. If you come on too strong, or too fragile, or "too much drama," you can be written off before you have a chance to get to know someone. But if you wait too long then you can seem fake or insincere. So what to say, and when to say it is a struggle for me. 

I mean, when is the right time to drop the "dead baby" bomb?

When is it the right time to start seeing those looks of pity and relief that it's your story and not theirs written on the faces of people you hardly know?

When is it the right time to freak out and scare off people that you may want to build a friendship with?

When is it the right time to be reminded that once again, you are "that women" and not just another normal new mother?

When will there be a time when I don't feel the stigma, and taboo, and silence that surrounds stillbirth?

When will I ever get used to this new normal that I'm living?