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.

Listening To My Heart

So do you want to try for another baby? It's a question I've been pondering for quite some time now. Back in January I wrote in depth about all the different things racing through my head.

The key phrase there is "my head" as opposed to "my heart." That post was full of my logical brain trying to work out the best path forward. I usually make my major life decisions using my head. I don't know exactly why, it's just the way I'm wired. Mostly it has guided me well, but sometimes my head can get itself all confused and really run me in circles. 

So over the past few months I've stopped pondering. I decided to see if I could figure out what my heart wanted. The problem for me is that my head is so loud that it's hard to hear what my heart is trying to say. I get so lost in the logic that I can't hear anything else. In order to listen to my heart, I have to make a conscious decision to just stop thinking so hard.

It took a while for my head to just shut up already. I occupied myself with other things, other projects, and things that needed to be done. Finally convincing my head to think about something else.

And now, here in the silence I am hearing a tiny voice. My heart, which is mostly drowned out by my head has something to tell me. At the moment it's still just a feeling. My heart takes it's sweet time you know. But this feeling I'm getting is that my heart wants very much for us to try again.

Hearing this, my head kicked right back into high gear with a million questions. What about this? What about that? Aren't you scared? 

This time I'm not going to answer my head just yet. I'm going to take a bit more time so I can listen to my heart. I'm hoping the message will be clear to me soon enough.

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?

So Now Formula Feeding Your Baby Is As Bad As Smoking?

Is feeding your baby formula as bad as smoking? Are mothers who don't breastfeed causing serious harm to their children's health? Should baby formula packaging come with a warning label similar to the ones found on cigarette packs?

Sounds crazy right? But according to a report published by the charity Save the Children, that's all true and is exactly what should happen. I'm not going to link to them but you can look them and their report up if you want to.

I read through the report, not all 75 pages of course, but I did read it. I focused mostly on the section where they talk about the makers of baby formula. Here's what I gleaned from my read-through.

• The evil manufacturers of baby formula have to figure out a way to get women to buy their clearly inferior product. 
• They are competing with a product (breast milk) which is not only superior in every way, but is free. So they really have their work cut out for them.
• These evil companies are resorting to dastardly tactics in order to accomplish this goal. 
• These dastardly tactics include
• Advertising their products. (the horror)
• Giving free samples to midwives and new parents. (how dare they)
• Giving free gifts with the company logo to health care workers, i.e. pens, pads of paper, and such. (round them all up and throw them in jail now)
• Something must be done to keep these evil companies from promoting their "poison" onto new mothers.
• One reason something must be done is that these companies are offering something that costs money and many people don't have the money to buy this evil baby formula. 
• After all, breast is best.

So their solution? Require all breast milk substitutes to have a warning label stating all the reasons why feeding this product to your child is a terrible idea. This warning label should be at least one third the size of the packaging. That's right folks,,,, one third the size of the package.

A huge label that shouts, "You are a terrible mother/father if you feed this to your baby!" "If you feed this to your baby you will probably ruin his/her health for life!" "So you better pop that boob back out and try again, because if you can't breastfeed then you are damaging your baby forever!"

Ok, I'm sure the label won't say those words specifically. I'm sure they will be all official and much more scary. I also know that the result of those words will make Mothers like me, who were unable to breastfeed feel even more guilty and horrible than we already felt the first time we opened a package of formula for our babies.

Plus, baby formula packaging already contains a disclaimer that says breast milk is best and that formula is a breast milk substitute. In fact, on the website for the brand I use (Aptamil) you have to click a disclaimer that says, "Breastfeeding is best for babies and provides many benefits. It is important that, in preparation for and during breastfeeding, you eat a healthy, balanced diet. Combined breast and bottle feeding in the first weeks of life may reduce the supply of your own breastmilk, and reversing the decision not to breastfeed is difficult. The social and financial implications of using an infant milk should be considered. Improper use of an infant milk or inappropriate foods or feeding methods may present a health hazard. If you use an infant milk, you should follow manufacturer’s instructions for use carefully – failure to follow the instructions may make your baby ill. Always consult your doctor, midwife or health visitor for advice about feeding your baby." before you can even view what products they sell. So why the need for a bigger warning label? 

I know that this charity mostly focuses on women and babies in the developing world and I think a lot of the work that they do is pretty great. But the things they recommend should (in their opinion) apply around the world. Which means these warning labels would be placed on all baby formula packaging in the UK and Europe, and in America as well.

Reading through their report I learned that in some places women don't know they should try to breastfeed within the first hour. In some of these countries they think they should feed their babies all kinds of strange things. There are also cultural issues that prevent women who may want to breastfeed from doing so. So I get the focus on education and the idea that breastmilk is best.

I also read in the report that the baby formula companies are targeting the developing world as new potential customers. They seem to spin this as a travesty. My opinion is that if women in the developing world have trouble breastfeeding, like I did, then isn't it wonderful that there is another option for them? That instead of these babies being fed cow's or goat's milk, or something else that is unsuitable for newborns, they can obtain a formula that will sustain their baby?

If a woman can't breastfeed and lives in a place where no suitable breastmilk substitute is available then what happens to that baby? My guess is that he or she will eventually die of malnutrition. So what's wrong with advertising an available option that could be the difference between a healthy baby and a dead one? And considering that the slogan for Save the Children is, "No Child Born to Die," you would think that they would want families to have every available option to be able to feed their children properly. Instead, they seem to be pushing the "only breastmilk will do" agenda.

I don't normally get involved with what I consider to be controversial issues here. Partly because it's not really that kind of blog and partly because I don't always want to "stir the pot" or in any way contribute to the drama that surrounds these kinds of debates. Especially when the debate is about breastfeeding vs formula feeding.

My take is that people should do what works best for their family. Not every Mother can breastfeed, and not all babies can either. Some women opt for breast feeding only, some opt for formula feeding only, and some do a combination. In some cases these are conscious decisions, and in other cases there was no option. In my opinion, these are very personal decisions and it disgusts me when people get all high and mighty and preach that their chosen way is the only way.

So the idea of putting a warning label on baby formula that is at least one third the size of the package? A label that lists all the things that are wrong with feeding your baby formula? A label that will make parents who are doing everything they can to take care of their babies feel awful? A label that would have made me feel even more guilty and inadequate about not being able to breastfeed than I already did? A label that at the moment is only put on things that are poisonous? A label like the kind you find on a carton of cigarettes?

I don't think so.

I've Supported Return To Zero, Will You?

I've seen a few posts around the blogosphere about a movie that's being made about stillbirth. I won't link them all but I will post a link to Still Standing where the director is interviewed about the project.

Obviously the film is still under production so I haven't seen the finished product yet. But what I like is that it is written by a Baby Loss Dad. Not just someone who is exploring what it might be like to lose a child, but someone who has actually been through the hell that is stillbirth. Someone who knows what it's like to hear those horrible words, "I'm so sorry, there's no heartbeat." Someone who has to deliver a baby they know is no longer alive. Someone who has to figure out how to pick up the pieces and move on with life. A life that is never the same, even when people think you must be "all better" by now.

As you can imagine, the studios in Hollywood are not breaking down doors to fund this film. Apparently even with big stars like Minnie Driver attached to the project, a film about a dead baby is having trouble getting financial backers.

Here's where you can help. If you click on this link you can get lots more information on the film. Plus you can donate money to help make sure it can be completed and released for the public to see. I did, and hopefully you will too.

I should mention that this is NOT a sponsored post. I don't do sponsored posts and the makers of this movie have no idea I'm writing about them here. Partly because I don't know them and didn't tell them and partly because I donated in my real name and I blog here anonymously. So I'm pretty sure there will be no way for them to ever figure out that I'm the one helping to promote them.

I don't ask for much around here, but the idea that a film is being made that can help break the stigma and silence surrounding stillbirth really moves me. So help if you can, even $1 will do.

Teeth At Last?

It's been a while since I've given a Frostina update. I sometimes get so wrapped up in all my emotions and what-not that I forget I have this amazing little person living with me. So here goes...

She is 8 months old now and so much fun. Her favourite thing is the Winnie the Pooh jumperoo that I got her for Christmas. I swear, that kid would spend 24/7 in that thing if I would let her. She is also obsessed with TV clickers and any type of mobile device. Which means The Hubby and I are constantly hiding our phones and blackberries from her. A couple of days ago she found the TV remote and almost blew out the speakers when she hit the volume button until it was maxed out.

She's sitting up on her own with hardly any support which is amazing to me. She still hates tummy time so I've got to catch her in just the right mood in order to make it happen.

She knows how to roll over from front to back but hardly does it. Instead she will cry when she's sick of being on her tummy until I come to rescue her. She can almost roll from back to front, but since she hates being on her tummy I can't see her doing that anytime soon.

If she spends enough time on her tummy she will do this thing where she raises her butt in the air and tries to move forwards. But mostly she will just cry until I come over to sit her up which is her favourite way to spend her time not in the jumperoo.

She is making some hilarious noises these days. In addition to babbling and cooing, she is prone to squealing and making what I like to call "monster noises." She loves to laugh and smile. She also likes to shake her head back and forth, especially when I sing to her.

Oh, and I think we are finally getting some teeth. In fact, I think we are getting two teeth at once. It's hard to know since she won't let me peek in to see them. Every time I try and open her mouth she sticks her tongue out so I can't see anything. But I'm pretty sure they are almost here.

Crying In Toy Stores

At some point I would like to be able to report that I am no longer crying in public places. I'd like to report that I no longer have flashbacks that bring me to tears. I'd like to be able to report that I don't have random crying jags anymore. Today is not going to be that day.

Apparently I am stuck with this new found propensity for crying in public. Actually, it's not that new anymore. It's been happening since my son died almost 2 and a half years ago. Wow, typing that just made me realize that it's been almost 2 and a half years since we said good bye. That's a long time.

I stopped carrying around my sunglasses because I thought perhaps I was past this whole thing. Really I should have known better after what happened when I took Frostina to see Santa. But clearly I am still in denial that my emotions are so much closer to the surface than they used to be.

The Hubby and I just got back from a week away. It was nice to be on vacation in America without the obligation of visiting family and basically being passed around like an expat ping pong ball. We had lots of time to sight see and shop without having to worry about balancing our time between his and my family. It was a very nice week away.

On the last day we decided to kill some time before we had to go to the airport by doing some shopping. Naturally we ended up in a toy store. It's a whole new experience being in a toy store now that we have a living baby to buy things for. She's still a bit too young to tell us what she wants, but she was clearly enthralled with the store. They obviously know how to capture even a babies interest at the Disney Store because she was oohing and aahhing and squealing with laughter. It was one of the funniest things I've seen.

As we were browsing the princess section I burst into tears. I'm sure I looked like a complete idiot. I mean, seriously, who cries at the Disney Store??? Me apparently.

The Hubby was completely confused. "What's wrong?" he asked me. Nothing was wrong of course. I was just overwhelmed at the fact that we actually have a baby who we can buy princess toys for, and princess outfits, and princess crowns.... you get the idea.

For so long I thought this day would never come. The day when we went to toy stores like normal people and got toys for our child. The day when I would no longer rush past toy stores trying not to look in and see other people and their happy children.

This day I was one of those parents. A happy parent pushing around my happy, squealing baby. My happy baby who I could buy a princess toy for. Not that I looked like a happy parent with tears streaming down my face,,, but I'm working on that part.

So,,, Are You Going To Try For Another One?

To try for another baby, that is the question.

It's the question that The Hubby has been asking me since Frostina was a few months old. It's the question that friends and family are starting to ask now that Frostina is almost 8 months old. It's the question that I have been asking myself.

It's the question I don't know how to answer.

Would I like another living child? Of course I would. If they just walked around passing out healthy babies I'd grab one in a hot second. If The Hubby and I could just live our lives and "see what happens" and get pregnant with little or no effort, I'd probably take a chance.

If our firstborn son hadn't died in utero at 36 weeks and my subsequent pregnancy with Frostina hadn't been filled with panic and fear, I'd start trying again today.

But that's not how things work for us. Well actually, the first part doesn't happen for anyone... unless there is a place where they just knock on doors and give deserving families healthy babies... if so I'll move there tomorrow. The way things work for The Hubby and I is much more complicated.

Trying for another baby would be a very deliberate process. A process we would be walking into knowing exactly how it would work. Knowing exactly how hard it would be. Knowing exactly how it feels when things work out. And knowing exactly how it feels when things don't work out.

I know exactly how it feels when things don't work out. The tears when my period comes after a failed cycle. The extra hormones and severe cramping that come along with it. The feeling of failure and hopelessness. Having to work myself up to try another cycle, trying to stay positive, trying to imagine that it will work the next time.

I also know exactly how it feels when a cycle does work, and you get pregnant. When you buy baby things, pick out names, and have a baby shower. I know exactly how it feels to get to 36 weeks of pregnancy and have it all taken away with 6 little words, "I'm so sorry, there's no heartbeat." I know just how hard it is to pick up the pieces and move on after a blow like that.

And pick up the pieces we did. We took a chance and after jumping through a lot of hurdles, we now have our little baby Frostina. She is the joy in our hearts and we wouldn't have her if we hadn't been willing to take a huge risk and leap of faith. I can't imagine my life without her and I don't regret for one moment all that it took to get her here.

But to do it again? I don't know.

After over 10 years I'm finally a parent to a living baby. That emptiness and yearning and desperation that comes with wanting a living child and not having one has been filled. Yes, I'm still infertile,,, but for the first time in a very long time I'm not obsessing about it. My life isn't dictated by my cycles and medications and exams. I no longer worry about when my period comes or if CD-whatever falls on a Sunday when the clinic would be closed.

For the moment I am free of all that. Free. Freedom feels wonderful.

Do we want to try again? Do we owe it to Frostina to give her a living sibling? Or are we happy being a family of 3 plus an angel?

I don't have any issue with raising an only child. I am not one of those people who think that only children are somehow damaged by not having a living brother or sister. But in my pre-infertility and loss beginnings I always pictured myself parenting two children. Notice how I say parenting. I do view myself as a mother of two. It's just that I only get to parent one of my babies.

If The Hubby and I were younger I would take a few years and see how I feel. But we're not young, and even though we will use an egg donor again, we don't want to be too old when a future potential child is born. So there is a time constraint in place, a deadline of sorts. He wants to know by the time Frostina turns one.

So now I've got to decide if I'm ready to jump back on the infertility wagon. Ready for the injections and cycle dates. Ready for the chance of another living baby. Ready for the chance of another loss.

The chance of another loss is where I get stuck.

These are all the issues we had to deal with before getting pregnant with Frostina of course. Only this time things are different. This time there isn't as big of a hole to fill. This time we already have our rainbow baby. So maybe we should just enjoy her and cherish her. Maybe we should thank God for giving us Frostina and move on with our lives. Maybe we shouldn't risk it again, tempt fate again.

Should we try for another baby?? I have no idea at this point.

Traveling Internationally With Baby- 10 Thing I've Learned

Travelling with a baby can be a daunting and difficult task. Especially if you're travelling internationally. We are on our second trip to the US since having Frostina and I am learning more and more each time. Here's some of what I've learned this trip.

1. Travelling with a 7 month old is harder than travelling with a 5 month old. I guess the more they can and want to move around, the harder it is.
2. If you book a bassinet on the aeroplane and it is the kind that attaches to a shelf with straps, your baby will not sleep in it. Instead she will play with the straps for 7 hours or so and only sleep for 45 minutes (and only then because you rocked her to sleep in the aisle). 
3. I have totally missed the USA and it's customer service. We checked into the hotel and because we had Frostina with us they offered us a fridge and microwave without us even having to ask. Not to mention the upgrade to a "pure" room which is basically a normal room with an air filter in it. But still, clean air is clean air.
4. Frostina is a total trooper. She loves the buggy and loves being pushed around it in new places. 
5. She is also great at restaurants, although we've yet to test her much past 5pm. To be fair, I take her to breakfast, coffee, and lunch all the time. But I've always avoided dinner time as I am worried about meltdowns. So tonight The Hubby convinced me to try a very early dinner. She was fine... but we got there at 5 and left by 5:30. So not exactly the kind of dinner's out we're used to.
6. London isn't nearly as cold as I think it is. After a few days in NYC, London is starting to feel like Hawaii.
7. Keeping a baby entertained in a hotel room can be a challenge.
8. If you have a baby who is used to bathing in a small plastic tub, be prepared for screams when you attempt to place her in a full sized tub. Apparently they are super scary for 7 month olds.
9. If you are lucky, there will be an older and even worse behaved child sitting near you on the plane. That way the dirty looks of your fellow air passengers will be focused their way instead of yours.
10. My little girl is a total city baby. She can sleep through construction, car horns, and ambulance sirens. In fact, I think she sleeps better with all the noise than at home in her quiet bed.

I'm sure there is more to learn, but we're only half way through our vacation. If I learn anything else I will be sure to share it.