Tuesday, June 29, 2010

A Rough Couple of Days...

I have had a rough couple of days. Thank God I have such a wonderful husband. I needed to get away, and that's just what he did. I'm so thankful that he just got in the truck and drove with me, I needed it.

The three month mark has definitely been the toughest for me thus far. I will write about it later.

Friday, June 25, 2010

A 3 month old memory...

I used to love nighttime. It used to be the best part of the day. Lay down and relax. My mind would wander and images of the day would race through. And I'd eventually fall asleep reliving a silly conversation, or reliving a silly moment.

Now, I hate the nighttime, I fear it actually. I've never really been afraid of the dark, now it terrifies me. Nighttime is the worst. My husband is blessed, he is one of those people who falls asleep as soon as his head hits the pillow, I am not. And nighttime is the worst.

Without fail, when I close my eyes, I see a bright light. It's coming from down, past my feet. My legs complete the dark tunnel to the light. I can hear lots of voices, but I have no idea what any of them are saying.

My heart is numb, my soul is numb, and I can't feel anything.

Then, all of a sudden, I feel it, I feel the urge to push and I can hear someone saying "push", so I do, then, I see it again. I see them block out the light and I see them place him on my belly. I hear my husband say "it's a boy, we have a son".

But it never changes, it always ends the same, I never hear him cry.

Every night, I will it to end differently, and every single night, it ends exactly the same way, without a sweet baby cry, but with a tear. I hate the nighttime, it never changes.

I close my eyes and I see the nurses searching for his heartbeat, but they never find it.

I close my eyes and I see the on-call OB sitting on the edge of my bed holding my hand, while the lady searches for any sign of flow in his heart, and she always looks at the OB and she always shakes her head.

I close my eyes and I always hear "I'm sorry..."

It never changes and I hate it.

I wish I was sleep deprived due to my 3 month old baby, instead, I'm sleep deprived due to a 3 month old memory...

Wednesday, June 23, 2010

So tired of it...

I changed my hair... again. This makes 4 times in the past 3 months. I get tired of it quickly, and it's something I actually have control over - if I get tired of it... I can change it.

I'm tired of the "common phrases" people say to make me feel better. They don't make me feel better, really, they make me feel worse. How do they make me feel worse... let me tell you.

I'm tired of people saying...

..."everything happens for a reason" - really, did you really just say that to me? are you saying there is a good reason that my baby died? well, would someone please like to fill me in, cuz I'm dying to know. 'everything happens for a reason' and when I punch you in the nose, I'm sure you'll know the reason...

..."God must have needed another angel" - well, He didn't have to take my baby, there are plenty of babies out there who needed Him to save them, how about one of the babies born to a crack addict, how about one of the babies thrown in the dumpster, how about one of the babies who will endure years of child abuse, why not take one of those angels, I WANTED my baby, why my baby.

..."there must have been something wrong with the baby" - OH NO YOU DIDN'T, I KNOW you did NOT just say there must have been something wrong with my PERFECT baby... NEWSFLASH, my baby was perfectly healthy, preeclampsia killed my baby - I developed preeclampsia, I got "sick" and that's why my baby died - there was nothing wrong with him, he was perfect.

..."you're still young" - well, I'm not getting any younger, I would like to have babies who can one day give me grandchildren that I can enjoy.

..."you can always have more kids" - OH and exactly which crystal ball are you looking into? Cuz it's not like we haven't been trying - get a frickin clue!

..."when you stop trying, that's when it will happen" - seriously, again, get a frickin clue, it doesn't "just happen" for everyone, SOME people have to try, and SOME people need help from the medical community, we're not all "fertile myrtle".

..."I have a friend who tried for 40 years, and as soon as they stopped trying, they got pregnant" - thanks, I'll let you know how that works for me in 30 years, when I'm SIXTY - idiots.

..."I'm praying for you" - who you gonna pray to, the same God who took my baby from me, you gonna pray to Him, hello - what good will that do, you "prayed" for me while I was pregnant, and look how that worked out for me.

I'm just so tired of it all, I'm tired of people trying to help - just leave me alone, you trying to help just makes me have to pretend even more that I'm fine. I'm so tired of people asking me how I'm doing - HELLO, MY BABY IS DEAD how the F*CK do you think I'm doing - I'm doing horrible, and I'm tired of HAVING to say "I'm fine" so you are comfortable talking to me, and so you feel better. I'm tired of it. All of it, I'm just so tired of it.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

All things are possible...

"All things are possible..." Really? Are they? I've had faith. I've prayed for strength. And now, I'm lost. I don't know whether to pray, scream, have faith, throw a tantrum, or do nothing at all. I feel like I should do something, but what? What can you do when you feel like there's nothing you can do at all.

I'm hurting. And really, I don't know what to do. I feel numb, yet desperate. To put it bluntly, more than anything, I want a baby. I have been pregnant 3 times. I had two miscarriages just shy of 10 weeks, one in 1999 and one in 2006. And, my son was stillborn at 35 weeks in 2010. I want a baby. Plain and simple, no sugar coating, no beating around the bush... I just want a baby.

Unfortunately, it's not easy for me to get pregnant. The first time was a surprise, then we tried and it took 7 years, then 3 years, I still don't have a baby, and I am not getting any younger.

I just received some news that makes me want to cry, yet I'm too numb to cry. Today, I had an ultrasound to check my follies (I have recently started clomid, again) so, today was my ultrasound to check my follies. As I thought, 50mg didn't do it. It never did it before, why would it work now, well, it didn't. Doc said "there are several follies, but they're too small" I'm generally a pretty obsessive person, but not wanting to stress myself out more than necessary, I didn't ask for specifics so I don't know how many or how small. I don't want to know. The plan is 15 days, if my period doesn't come in 15 days, I'll start provera (again) and I'll do 100mg of clomid on cd5-9, with an ultrasound around day 16.

I didn't expect it to work, so why do I feel desperate, why do I feel numb? It's what my doc found during the ultrasound. I can't remember the name... it's one of those "too long for the common brain to comprehend" medical names... but here are the basics
- this "condition" will not make it harder to get pregnant.
- I do have an increased risk of miscarriage, I have about a 50% chance of miscarriage.
- I have a huge risk for complications during pregnancy or birth.
- There is an 83% chance that my baby will not settle into the usual head down position, my baby will most likely be bottom down or feet down, small chance he/she will be transverse, but 83% chance that I'll have to have a c-section.
- There is a high risk of my waters breaking early.
- I have a 63% chance of preterm labor as early as the 25th week.
- I have a higher risk of incompetent cervix
- my baby has a huge risk of low birth weight.
- there is a high risk of my uterus rupturing if I go past 35 weeks in any pregnancy.
And I'm sure he said more, but of course, I can't remember everything.

So, in my language... I'm a person who has a hard time getting pregnant, and now, I've found out, that IF I do manage to get pregnant, I have a 50% chance of micarrying, and IF I manage to not miscarry, I'm at a very high risk of other complications. Nice. That's just what someone who wants a baby as badly as I do needs to hear.

My OB doesn't seem as concerned. He said this "condition" automatically classifies me as "high-risk", I'm thinking 'but you've already classified me as high-risk, I've had 3 losses which makes me high risk, I've had a 35 week stillbirth which makes me high-risk, and now I have this "condition" which also makes me high risk, really, how much more high risk can you get... I have 3 separate instances which in and of themselves classifies me as high-risk' so will I ever have a baby?
Instance #1 allows me early ultrasounds. I get my first ultrasound really early, just to see if there is a heartbeat, to see if the pregnancy is viable.
Instance #2 gets me visits with the perinatologist, it gets me high level ultrasounds around 20 weeks, it gets me monthly ultrasounds from 20 weeks on, it gets me biweekly visits rather than monthly as well as biweekly activity scans, it gets me an amnio at 32 weeks to check my baby's lungs, it gets me induced by 34 weeks.
Instance #3 this one gets me weekly monitoring from the beginning of the second trimester, it gets me biweekly ultrsounds until week 24, then weekly ultrasounds are likely, it gets me weekly activity scans from 20 weeks, then at least twice a week.

1 + 2 + 3 = crazy lady trying desperately to become a crazy paranoid pregnant lady. How stupid is that???

I'm terrified, really, I want nothing more than to be pregnant, I want nothing more than to have a baby, but I'm so terrified that once I finally become pregnant, that I'll lose my baby, or something else horrible will happen.

According to my doc, there is another alternative, there is a small chance that I'll get pregnant and have an uneventful and normal pregnancy, since I have carried one baby 35 weeks and delivered him naturally, it is possible. Too bad preeclampsia and HELLP syndrome killed him.

Where does all that leave me... It leaves me numb, it leaves my heart hurting, it leaves me scared, it leaves me wondering and questioning things I haven't questioned before. I received a lot of information today that I wasn't expecting. And still, I want a baby. I heard one time that when the hope for a baby outweighs the fear of losing another one, then, you know you're really ready. As much as I don't want to lose another baby, I want a baby more. I'm ready.

And so, I go forward, and I just have to believe, and hope, and pray, with all my heart, that "with Him, all things are possible..."

Sunday, June 20, 2010

What if...

I went to a dangerous place today, if you've ever lost a child, you know the place, it's a land called "What if"...

Being Father's Day, today was tough for me. It was tough because Paul doesn't have his baby to hold. He doesn't have his baby to be a father to. And that was hard for me. It took me to that dangerous land, that land you visit from time to time, but you need to be very careful with because you can get caught there, you can get stuck there, and it can be very hard to return.

Today, I found myself in "what if" land...
What if I had known the symptoms of preeclampsia ~ would I have recognized that I had it, and would my baby had been born alive...
What if I had known about HELLP syndrome ~ would I have recognized the "rash" as a symptom, would I have placed the timing of my HUGE weight gain as well as the development of the "rash" together and thought about HELLP...
What if I had seen a different doctor, the OB on-call in the ER took one look at me and immediately tested for HELLP, he was right, what if he had been my OB ~ would my baby be alive...
What if I had a scale at home ~ would I have noticed a 6 pound weight gain in 5 days and called the doc...
What if I had went to L&D first instead of to the doc ~ I would have been hooked up to the fetal monitoring and would they have been able to save my baby...
What if I had insisted something was wrong when I went to L&D at 32 weeks, we listened to Landon's heartbeat for hours, we listened to him kicking like crazy at that fetal monitor - he hated it :) it was so funny - but they sent me home and told me if my contractions increased to 6 an hour or more to come back...
What if I had said I can't feel my tummy, how will I know if they increase ~ would they have kept me just to make sure, would they have noticed more contractions, would my baby be alive...
I now know that I had been having contractions for at least a week, but since I couldn't feel my tummy, I didn't know, and I thought it was the baby moving...
What if I had insisted on more monitoring since I couldn't feel my tummy...
What if I had insisted on more monitoring since I couldn't do proper kick counts...

...would Landon be napping with his daddy right now?

What if... It's a dangerous place, you can get lost there. There is so much sadness, so much heartbreak, so much sorrow, so many tears.

Today, on the day that was supposed to be so special for my husband, the day that was supposed to finally be his first "Happy Father's Day", today, I found myself in that land. Wishing my husband had his baby in his arms, today all I could think of, was -- What if...

Thursday, June 17, 2010

I tried...

He wraps his hand around my finger and smiles. He kicks his feet and wiggles his arms. I change his diaper he giggles and coos. He laughs as I tickle his belly. I button his sleeper and make funny faces and sounds as he smiles, and I try to pick him up, but I can't. I try again, and I realize it's a dream, I need to hold onto him, I need to keep him, I try desperately, desperately to bring him with me, but I can't, and I wake up. His image fades and a tear runs down my cheek as I wish I could dream forever.

Have you ever had one of those dreams where you realize you're dreaming just as you're about to wake up and you try to bring things with you, because in dream land you know what will not be there but you're dreaming, and maybe, just maybe, if you try hard enough, you might just be able to bring it with you when you awaken. I always try to bring things back with me... money, letters, flowers, pictures... and now my baby, it never works.

Last night I had a dream about my baby. I have never tried so hard to bring something back with me, I knew I was waking up and I knew he wouldn't be here, I knew that if I could just hold him tight enough, that he would be here when I woke up. But, as dreams go when you realize you're dreaming, I couldn't pick him up. I tried, and I tried, and I tried. As I tried, his face faded, his giggle was gone, and I woke up. I woke up and I cried.

My baby is dead, and these dreams are both the best, most amazing thing I could ever ask for, and at the same time, they haunt me. I LOVE dreaming about my baby - that is the best way I can spend time with him. I love holding him. I love playing with him. I love him. But they haunt me, when I wake up and he isn't there, the pain flows strong. It's like a hurricane blowing me down. It's like a cruel joke... here's your baby, play with him, love on him, be with him ~wake up~ haha just kidding, he's still dead. Then I see him all day, and I miss him all day, and the pain is so strong.

I don't cry very much, I've learned to stop the tears from flowing... it's easier that way, and besides - everyone thinks I should "be over it" by now. My baby died 12 weeks ago. And this morning I woke up and I cried. I cried for me, because I hurt so bad. I cried until my pillow was wet, then I flipped it over and cried some more. Then I decided I wanted to see my baby again, I went back to sleep and tried go back into my dream, so I could spend some more time with Landon... it didn't happen, but I tried.

Monday, June 14, 2010

I hate that lady...

I am a different person than I was before Landon died. I look different. I feel different. I am different. I can never go back to the person I was then, she died the day Landon died, and I am who is left.

I wonder if I will ever get used to people treating me differently.

I hate "those looks". I get them all the time, people look at me with pity - I can recognize the look from across a room... the "I pity her" look... the "I'm glad it wasn't me" look... the "that poor lady" look. And when they are up close, they look at me with their bottom lip pressed up into a pursed upper lip, corners pointed half down, head tilted down and to the right, and eyes avoiding direct contact.

I avoid the direct eye contact too - because I know that if I look into your eyes, I'll cry... I'll cry because I miss my baby. But what you don't understand, is that I miss him everyday, whether you look at me or not, I still miss him, and I always will.

I hate being "that lady". Wherever I go, I'm "that lady... the one whose baby died". I hate being her. What I wouldn't give to be "that lady... the one with the annoying kid" or "that lady... the one who is way overprotective" or "that lady... the one who is always at the park with her baby"... what I wouldn't give to be any of "those ladies".

Unfortunately, I will forever be "that lady, you know, the one whose baby died".

I hate that lady.


Today is one of "those" days... I'm having a rough day. It's not easy being the mommy to an angel... you long to hear your child cry... you long to hear his voice... you long to touch his skin... you long to see his eyes...

And you have bad days.

A bad day can sneak right up on you - what you think is starting out great, can instantly turn bad. You may see his blanket. You may go into his room. You may see his bottle. On a normal day, you stop for a minute, touch the item, smile, then continue on. But on a bad day, you stop, you may get sad and cry, you may get angry, you may not be able to continue on with the day - you may get a headache, you may throw up, you may just sit crying uncontrollably.

I have a headache. I hate headaches.

Sunday, June 13, 2010

All the right things...

Well, this is one of those "I need to work it out" posts. And without being specific because my blog site is in my profiles so others can read if they please, I'll attempt to "work it out".

I lost my baby. That's the plan truth of it. My baby is dead and nothing I do will bring him back to me. I am left with grief. I don't know how to deal with grief - I've never had to before. I'm not one who is good at asking for help, so counseling is pretty much out. What I'm left with is the couple of online support groups I've found. I have visited several and I have two that I have chosen to frequent.

The online support groups are full of women just like me, women who have lost a baby through stillbirth. We are women from all over the world, women from all walks of life, twenty-somethings, forty-somethings, mommies who lost their babies days ago, and mommies who lost them years ago, first time mammas, and mammas with many other children, but we all stand united, we are all mommies to angels, we are there for each other. These online communities are safe-havens, we go there happy, we go there sad, we go there angry, and we go there jealous, no matter our feelings when we get there, we can be honest... the others always, and I mean always offer support. They offer a support that many of us cannot get with our "real life" friends, they send us virtual hugs, they offer guidance, they offer support, and they genuinely cry with us, we can say anything to them, they are us.

~When one of our "real life" friends announces her pregnancy, our online support network cries with us - they know we are happy for her, but they understand that this type of announcement can cut deep into our souls, it may make us feel like a failure - we are happy, sad, jealous and mad all at the same time, and they are the only ones who understand... and they say all the right things...

~When we are hurt that our husbands are acting different than we expect them to, our online network hurts with us - they know EXACTLY how we feel, they know that we love our spouses, they know that we hurt so badly for our missing babies, they know that we want our husbands to share that hurt... and when our husbands seem to heal before us, they know how we feel. They "hug" us and hurt with us... they tell us how their husband did the same thing... they tell us our husbands just didn't have the same emotional bond that we did... and they say all the right things.

~When we are having a hard time conceiving our next child, our online network cries with us and cheers us on - they know how badly we desire another child - they know our babies can never be replaced, yet they know the deep need for a child, they know we need to feel baby kicks again, they know the feeling of empty arms... and they cry with us when our period comes... and they cheer with joy when we "hit it" on all the right days... and they distract us through the long days waiting to test... they encourage us when we get a negative test... they tell us it was too early... they tell us they didn't get their positive until much later... they tell us we're not out yet... and they cry with us when our period comes again... they understand, they've been there... and they say all the right things.

The point of this blog is to help me heal. I keep things bottled up, I don't always say what's on my mind, I promised myself I would use this place to say what's on my mind...

What's on my mind today is a possible fake. I would have never imagined such a thing could exist, but they do. My eyes were opened by facebook, my eyes were opened by the fake people on facebook who join groups designed mainly for bereaved parents and did horrible things involving precious angels pictures, and they say horrible things... they say things a bereaved parent would never say.

In our online support groups, we sometimes find ourselves in common threads about "what not to say to bereaved parents" or "what not to say to someone ttc" and others like this... we laugh with each other as we read through these lists and nod... we laugh as we share stories of what people have said to us... but share the common bond, we share "secret" decency to never say the wrong thing, we never use these common phrases, especially to each other.

A possible fake. Horrifying.

There are new mommies who join our networks almost daily. We cry reading their stories as they are so dear to our own hearts, and we can literally feel the pain in their words.
I am horrified by a possible fake... and I wonder,
what could her intentions be... (why would some fake this)
why would she be here... (learning, stealing, why)
is she here to learn about us... (college student writing a paper, someone who knows someone who has been here)
is it for pity... (we hate the "pity stares" - is she just an attention getter)
is it for personal gain... (does she think people will like her more if she has lost a child, again, is she an attention getter)
I don't know... but it troubles me.

I first thought twice about her because she said the wrong thing... not to me, but to another mommy... she tried to offer advice, but she said something on the list, something we never say to each other, something we cringe hearing from "real life" friends.
Then she said the wrong thing again not in offering support, but in seeking support, she described something she had done (in an effort to heal, sort of) but it is not something we would do to heal... it is actually something we put off doing (weeks or even months go by and we still have not done this thing), or we have others do for us because we just can't (I can't do specifics, sorry), but not only was she was able to do this "thing" that most of us can't do, she did it literally within days of losing her baby, and she did it herself...
She doesn't talk about her baby like we do... her words are just words... there is no love in her words... it just feels wrong...

Maybe I'm just imagining it... maybe she's not a fake... maybe facebook has just made me paranoid... maybe she's just very strong... maybe she's superwoman...

I might me wrong about her so I feel bad for saying this, I feel bad for thinking this, but I had to get it out. This is something I would normally say to the ladies at the groups for support, but I can't because I don't want to cause chaos... so I have to think it out here... I have to say it to myself because I can't reach out to my support about this, and as much as I need them, and want to tell them, this time... they can't say all the right things.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Serious stuff...

Pre-eclampsia and HELLP syndrome.
Serious stuff.

I wish I had known all the symptoms - I only knew about high blood pressure and protein in the urine, neither of which I had until that last day - I didn't know about the headaches, the blurred vision, the sudden weight gain... I woke up with a horrible headache and I couldn't see straight - I called in sick to work and took a nap to try to ease my headache before my doc appointment that afternoon. At my doc appointment, I learned that I had gained 6 pounds over that last 5 days... I didn't have a scale, so I didn't know. My blood pressure was extremely high, urine check... there was a significant amount of protein present, I was diagnosed with severe pre-e... my doc gave me a quick run down on pre-e, told me to expect to deliver that evening or the next day, and sent me to L&D at the hospital... by the time I got to L&D, Landon's heart had stopped, the rest of the night is a whirlwind of nurses and doctors and IV's and shots and emptiness... Landon was born still the following evening, 23 hours and 55 minutes after being induced.

"Know the symptoms. Trust yourself" Preeclampsia is serious, preeclampsia killed my baby.

Check out the website www.preeclampsia.org it could save your baby's life.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Funky Mouth Leg-warmers...

FML... the first time i saw these 3 letters, I pondered them for about 3 seconds, then moved on - not knowing what they meant and not really caring.

I've since learned what they mean, and I'm a bit disturbed. For others like me, who don't know, fml means f*ck my life... really! I couldn't believe either - these letters are randomly thrown everywhere... "ran out of cereal this morning, fml" "ripped a hole in my jeans, fml" "can't go to the party tonite, fml" and it goes on.
What's sad is that these people, the ones who throw around these 3 letters, they have no idea. If they say fml for these trivial things, how would they react to real life? How would they react to real pain? How would they react to real loss? It makes me sad.

So, I've decided that fml will no longer mean that... it will forever mean something else, anything else... forever my love... find my legwarmers... fix my lights... found my life... it will mean anything except f*uck my life, because no matter where you are, no matter what you are going through, no matter what has happened, your life is worth more, and I wish you could see that.

Next time you see someone post "fml" come back with "funky mouth leg-warmers" :)

A picture of Landon...

So here is a picture of my sweet baby boy... I could not have asked for a more perfect angel... I miss you little baby... I always will...

Really? How am I doing...

People ask me all the time how I am doing. I often find myself wondering if they really want to know. What would be their reaction if I told them the truth... If I said 'I'm not doing well', 'my heart is broken', 'I don't think I will ever heal', 'sometimes I'm ok, but most of the time I just want to dig a hole next to my son and crawl in, forever'. What would they say? It's easier to simply say "I'm fine".

They try to make me feel better, but usually, they just say all the wrong things... "it was meant to be..." or "you'll feel better in time, I lost my mom a few years ago, and I feel better now". They say many more things, and for the most part, they just make me more sad. Do I say anything to them? No. What would that do... they have good intentions, they just don't understand. I pray that they NEVER understand.

What would I like to say... wow... honestly I wouldn't even know where to begin, and I guess that's why I always say "I'm fine".

Time doesn't heal pain, it only makes the pain easier to deal with. The loss of your child cannot be compared with anything... losing a parent, losing a grandparent, losing a sibling, losing a spouse, a family member falling ill, or anything else you try to compare it to, just makes it hurt that much worse - the laws of nature say death is normal... we are supposed to lose our grandparents... we are supposed to lose our parents... siblings will pass away... and one spouse will inevitably die before the other... those things are all natural. BUT our children are NOT supposed to die before their parents...there is nothing natural about bending before a small white casket, draped with a specially made grave blanket because the normal ones are too big, and shedding a tear while you kiss the casket of your only baby before it is lowered into the ground... there is nothing natural about that, nothing. We are not supposed to experience that, and the grief that follows is also unnatural, unlike any other.

So the next time you see me, please, before asking how I am doing, ask yourself... how would I be doing, how would I feel, what would I want someone to say to me, where would I be in my 'healing', how would I deal if I had buried my only child... really, how would I be doing.

I would like to share a poem that is circulated amongst a secret society of angel mommies... a society I wish I didn't know about... a society I never wanted to join... a society I am forever a part of...

If you know the author's name, please let me know, I would like to give credit where credit is due.

A Mother's Grief

You ask me how I'm feeling,
but do you really want to know?
The moment I try telling you
You say you have to go

How can I tell you,
what it's been like for me
I am haunted, I am broken
By things that you don't see

You ask me how I'm holding up,
but do you really care?
The second I try to speak my heart,
You start squirming in your chair.

Because I am so lonely,
you see, no one comes around,
I'll take the words I want to say
And quietly choke them down.

Everyone avoids me now,
Because they don't know what to say
They tell me I'll be there for you,
then turn and walk away.

Call me if you need me,
that's what everybody said,
But how can I call you and scream
into the phone,
My God, my child is dead?

No one will let me
say the words I need to say
Why does a mothers grief
scare everyone away?

I am tired of pretending
as my heart pounds in my chest,
I say things to make you comfortable,
but my soul finds no rest.

How can I tell you things
that are too sad to be told,
of the helplessness of holding a child
who in your arms grows cold?

Maybe you can tell me,
How should one behave,
who's had to follow their child's casket,
watched it perched above a grave?

You cannot imagine
what it was like for me that day
to place a final kiss upon that box,
and have to turn and walk away.

If you really love me,
and I believe you do,
if you really want to help me,
here is what I need from you.

Sit down beside me,
reach out and take my hand,
Say "My friend, I've come to listen,
I want to understand."

Just hold my hand and listen
that's all you need to do,
And if by chance I shed a tear,
it's alright if you do too.
~Author Unknown

Please, the next time you are unable to avoid me, the next time you talk to me, before you try to make me feel better, just stop and think...

Why the blog...

When you go through an experience that others have not, they become uncomfortable. They don't now what to say. They don't know how to react. They avoid you.

As horrible as it sounds, tragedy isolates you. Not all tragedy, but mine does. I am the mother of a child that no one knows. I am a mother of a child that no one can see. I am the mother of a child that I can no longer hold. I am the mother of an angel. A special angel who was called home just before he was born.

My baby died in utero, 'fetal demise third trimester' that's what my doctor said at my appointment just days after burying my child. He said "we don't know why this can happen in a perfectly healthy pregnancy... these things just happen, I had another lady who this happened to just last week..." Were those words supposed to comfort me? Was I supposed to feel better knowing that 'I'm not the only one'? Was I supposed to be thankful that I had an "otherwise" healthy pregnancy? Really?

I left that appointment dumbfounded. My baby had died. I had just buried my only child and all I could remember him saying was "blah blah blah fetal demise". Words. That's what they are. That's all they are. Now. BUT then, it made me feel like I did something wrong, like I had in some way caused my baby's death, like it was my fault. I know that's not the case, and I know that was not my doctor's intentions, but feelings cannot always be controlled. Your initial reaction to something, the true initial reaction - your immediate thought/feeling/reaction, is not something you can control... it just happens. I control my secondary thoughts, I am responsible for what I do and what I say, as well as what I do not do and what I do not say.

I am a natural nurturer. My thoughts/feelings/actions are generally geared towards making others comfortable, and towards myself second. I have learned to keep most of my feelings to myself. I don't speak my mind. I don't cause conflict. I don't disrupt. It's just easier that way - I don't have to worry about making others uncomfortable... that's the natural nurturer in me. And unfortunately, it can cause me undue grief. The problem now is, I have true grief to deal with. I have been through a tragedy. I have lost a child. And I need to deal with it. I need to heal. But I have spent my whole life helping others... I have never learned to help myself.

This is my attempt. I have created this blog to help me heal. This is my place. Here I can 'think' things out, and work through things. I can say what I want and not have to worry about who may be offended. And I will. I promise myself that. I will use this place for me.

I really wish I had my baby...
I wish my baby hadn't died eleven weeks ago...
I wish that I didn't have to make a blog called 'Losing Landon'...
I wish it could be called 'Watch Landon Grow'...
I wish I had my baby... now more than ever.