Saturday, December 24, 2011

It's finally here; Christmas.

Christmas. Where do I even start? Since we lost Xander in January and Robert on May 5th, I've already conquered many holidays while missing my babies. Let's see....in March there was my 21st birthday. In May there was Mother's Day. Oh and don't forget Easter in April but I was pregnant with Robert then. Then there was Father's Day, Fourth of July, Rob's birthday, Halloween and Thanksgiving. Now we are at probably the hardest holiday yet: Christmas.

Christmas is hard for any grieving parent, or anyone who is grieving really. Most commercials focus on family and Santa Clause and the kids being surprised with presents on Christmas Morning. Then you have the Christmas Carols. Have you ever thought of Silent Night as a horrible song? Probably not unless your child really is "sleeping in Heavenly peace". So, how does a grieving parent make it through?

Last night Rob was talking to his brother via internet. My father-in-law invited us to meet them in St. Louis and spend Christmas with them. We debated back and forth on what to do. Yesterday was the point in pregnancy where I lost Xander. Also known as "point of loss" or "POL" to save time. POL is scary. You relive every moment of your baby's birth/death. The dreaded ultrasound, the labor, everything. I decided I wasn't comfortable being 300 miles away from my doctor and hospital. We declined. But last night I got to thinking and really wanted to go. Rob's step-Mom was recently diagnosed with breast cancer. I don't know specifics but I would have loved to spend Christmas with her and the rest of the family. So last we decided what the hell, let's go in the morning. After showering and packing a suitcase we headed on the road for St. Louis. Sixty miles later the car broke down on the side of I-55. I'm now sitting at home.

It seems like every time we try to do something fun to cheer ourselves up instead of sitting at home in fear...something shitty happens. Like the car breaking down. Rob and I spent the next 3 hours in the tow-truck driving around trying to figure out what to do. Thank God for our tow-truck driver and putting up with how frazzled we were. The car ultimately ended up in our drive way considering it's Christmas Eve and dealerships and car rental places are closed.

Here we are back at home. Rob is playing XBOX and I'm sitting cuddled up on the couch with my fleece blanket and laptop. I was so afraid that with all of the stress that the baby wouldn't be okay. Luckily he's a mover and I can feel him kick away as I type. But despite the dramatics of the day and my booger baby kicking my belly I can't help but mourn Christmas. It's not a happy time for me. I've spent most of my night staring at Xander's picture that sits by our television. I wish I could stop myself from thinking about the what-ifs but I can't. What if he was here? What would we be doing? Would we even live in Memphis? We would probably still live in Denver. We'd probably spend time with family. Not alone. I can't even get myself to turn on the Christmas lights on the tree. We just have had really bad luck this year and for fuck's sake I just want something to go our way!

I can only hope that tomorrow is a better day. At least I know we won't be going out anywhere. We won't have to worry about rushing around, trying to get somewhere on time or make it to everyone's house and eat 3 big meals like we usually do. Hell I probably won't even shower.

How will I survive tonight and tomorrow? Kleenex. And Xander Bear.

Monday, December 19, 2011

Letter to Heaven

My Dearest Xander,

It's been awhile since I've written you a letter. It's been almost a year now. So much has happened. Two months after you passed away I became pregnant with your brother who is named after Daddy...Robert. His life lasted much shorter than yours and we said goodbye to him on May 5th. But I'm sure you know this already because I like to think the two of you are together and never alone. We moved away to Tennessee for Daddy's job. It was so hard to leave you there. The last time we visited you I didn't want to leave you and I'm sorry that we did. There have been so many days when I have needed to go see you and I can't. Everyone tells me that it doesn't matter...that you are always here but I just felt like you were really with us when we went there. I could feel your presence. I do feel you though, even though I am ~1000 miles away now.

I'm still feeling guilt for a lot of things that happened. I still feel guilt over your death. I still feel as though my body let you down. I'm sure it's something I will struggle with for life but it eats me up inside. You were so tiny and fragile; my warrior. I'm still amazed at how much of a fight you put up. I still feel guilty for getting tired of bed rest. I knew how important it was but man, it drove me crazy. Any time I got upset about it you always kicked me and brought me back. I remember though, one night, being so exhausted. I prayed to God and asked him, "if you are going to take my son, why put me through this? Just take him...". How could I be so selfish? How could I ask God to take you from me? More often than not though I was praying for him to SAVE you. I begged him multiple times a day to save you and to give us a miracle! But the one prayer I regret is the one he answered. I'm so sorry Xander.

Another big thing that has happened is I am pregnant yet again. Your brother is due 3 weeks before you were due. I've been struggling with all of the milestones we faced together last year. And the ones you should have hit this year. Especially this Christmas. Last year on Christmas I was pregnant with you. It was just 3 weeks before you died. Dr. Watson said it was okay for me to spend Christmas at your Grandpa's house so off we went. I remember bragging to everyone how different it would be just 12 months from then. You would be here to celebrate with us and bring a new joy into the world. Everyone would pass you around and I would probably be over protective and nod and smile as everyone admired your blue eyes and blond hair and deep down I would be screaming haha. Then I would get you back in my arms and tell you about last Christmas. The bed rest, the doctors, the needing to get approval from a doctor just to be able to open presents. Little did I know that these things would always just be a pretend story. I don't know if your eyes were blue but from your remarkable resemblance to your Dad I think it's safe to assume they were. I would never hold you on a holiday or pass you around to family members outside of the room in labor and delivery. You would never see snow or wear the coat I bought for you. And the only memories I will have are the 24 hours we spent together once you were born. The rest will be left to my imagination.

However, I am imagining your little brother here...hoping next year my Christmas will come true. That I will have a baby in my arms but deep down I will always wonder if he resembles you and how you would be. No one will ever replace you Xander. No one. But he is your brother and he will always know that there was someone before him, that there was you. I am 21 weeks and 1 day. Just four days away from the point when you passed. Please watch over me and your brother. Please know he isn't a replacement. Please keep him safe and strong. I hope one day he will feel you with him.

I love you so much. I'm sure you know there hasn't been a day when I didn't say your name out loud. You've been on my mind more than ever recently. Is that because you are here?

Love always,
Mommy

Monday, December 5, 2011

Labels

One of the hardest parts about having pregnancy loss is....the label.

A miscarriage is usually defined as a loss prior to 20 weeks gestation.
A stillbirth is usually defined as a loss at 20 weeks and beyond.

But where do we draw the line?

One of my friends recently lost her baby at 12 weeks. She was induced into labor in the hospital, in the labor and delivery ward and vaginally delivered her son. Most women in the second trimester go through the labor process. You hear about cramps during a miscarriage, did you know that's technically the uterus contracting to get the baby out? Did you know that many women who are considered full term start the labor process in the same L&D my friend went to (where I also delivered my son) using the same drugs that were used to induce her labor?

What about the babies that are born too soon and not able to survive outside the womb? Did you know many of them are born breathing? That their families receive birth and death certificates for them? Or the babies that die in utero...they don't receive any sort of life or death certificate in most states. They are still born. They don't just disappear into thin air. Their families go to funeral homes to pick out caskets or urns. They have to pay to get their baby buried or cremated. I used to hate the word stillborn. But you know what? It makes since. My son wasn't just stillborn....he was still born. I went through labor as have many other women who have stillborns.

But yet you hear the word miscarriage and it just doesn't make sense past a certain point. You read the tabloids and see that celebrities have "a miscarriage at six months". Do you realize how far along 6 months is? That's almost the third trimester of pregnancy. This wasn't just something that was like a heavy period. That was birth. That was pushing knowing your baby won't take a breath once he/she gets out. That's a stillbirth.

Losses can be so different from woman to woman. Even my two losses were a night and day difference. I went into labor with Xander, we held him, Rob cut his cord and we took pictures with him. With my miscarriage I had a D&C, a surgery. I was completely under. I went into the operation room pregnant and asleep and came out asleep and not pregnant. There are mothers who go into a routine OB checkup, find out their baby has passed and have to be medically induced into labor. Some even have to endure a cesarean section. How can we sum that up into two words? Stillbirth? Or a miscarriage? I like to define losses by how far along a woman was. So instead of saying Xander was stillborn I say, Xander was stillborn at nearly 22 weeks. Instead of saying I had a miscarriage I say, I had a miscarriage at 7 weeks.

But even then....the world's knowledge of pregnancy becomes known when you say things like that. Like people think because I was only nearly 22 weeks pregnant, that I didn't hold him. Or that he wasn't 10 and a quarter inches long and weighed 15.6 ounces. It's like the think the baby somehow goes from sperm meets egg to 20 inches, 8 pound baby over night. It's amazing how uneducated people, especially WOMEN who have had babies, are when it comes to pregnancy.

So, please, read up on fetal development. We don't just magically wake up not pregnant one day (well, I guess unless you've had a D&C like I did). We still have to birth our babies. Even before 20 weeks.