Baby, It's Cold Outside

Winter finally arrived and I couldn't be more relieved. I crave the gloomy, foggy, cloudy weather much like most people prefer the sunshine. Unlike a majority of people in the Winter months, I get depressed during the Summer. And even though this Winter I have a lot of things to be depressed about, I am doing pretty well. These last few months have been hard and a few times I felt like everything was caving in but I also begin again each day with a new perspective. I try to keep everything I am truly thankful for close to my heart and it helps get me through the tough days where I want nothing more than to feel sorry for myself. I won't though. Everyone is fighting some sort of battle (as they say) and although this battle seems pretty lame in comparison to say...someone who can't find their other sock, it is my battle. I have to face it either way so I may as well face it head on. For me, that is accepting Imogen will die much too soon. I know even if I feel I am prepared for that day, I won't be. Even though I have been in a state of grief since September, I haven't even felt an ounce of the grief I'll feel letting her go. To cope and to look ahead I am trying to compile a bucket-list for myself in 2015.

So far:

1. Focus on my health- Excuses are for suckers. I'm going to get myself out of bed and make time for me and really try to eliminate a lot of sugar from my diet. This one is always hard but I think I can do it.
*Of course right after baby comes, I will probably indulge in a margarita or five... Maybe a few trips to Dewars because hello?

2. Train for a 10k. I've done 5k's and I know it will be a good way to rid myself of stress. It would also be a great distraction to sign up for a few fun runs in and out of town. Trip to Ventura anyone?

3. Get away with the family. After we come home without baby, I think it will do me good to surround myself with my children and husband and just be...together. A trip to the ocean always makes my soul sing.

4. Finally find the words to write a song for Immy. I just don't think I can do this now. Words don't quite come out like I want. Plus, I haven't held her in my arms yet and I have a feeling those embraces will inspire me like nothing else could.



This is where I am so far. I will add to this list as time goes by. We are looking at about 8-10 weeks until we meet Imogen, unless something happens to bring her here sooner. I know those weeks will go by fast. I am getting nervous for labor and delivery. I'm praying she isn't stillborn. I'm lost in a million thoughts about the day she is born. I know it will be such a  hard day. Although I am trying to plan for the pain of it all, I have a feeling I can't even begin to scratch the surface of how we will feel meeting and then ultimately losing her. I have been putting off writing a birth plan and registering at the hospital because I am not sure how I can get through walking the same halls where I gave birth to two of my other children, knowing this birth will be so completely different. I'm afraid of the chaos in my mind as I deliver, knowing that my baby isn't healthy or compatible for life. It will be hard. So right now I am savoring my favorite weather, the time with family at Christmas and soaking up every ounce of joy I can between now and the day we see our baby.

Thankful

Most people would find it rather difficult to be thankful when going through a pregnancy that will end in a loss. I can totally understand why people feel that way but I have been fortunate enough to find this isn't the case with me. Sure, I'd love a different outcome. A healthy baby... That would be on the top of my list. But since the cards I have been dealt are not in favor of a healthy baby, I must cling to any and every ounce of joy I can find. I'm just over 26 weeks and her kicks are stronger than ever! It feels amazing to be able to daydream about her while those little arms and legs kick me nearly around the clock. I try to imagine who she would have looked like had she been a typical healthy baby. Would she be a member of the blue eyed club like my boys and I or have those beautiful hazels like her daddy and sister? Would she have a full head of hair like her siblings? Would she have a calm temperament or be grumpy like her big sister? Who would she grow to be? I'll always have to imagine how she would have looked as the years go by. Here I am thinking about the future when we haven't even brought her into the world yet, but doing so brings so much comfort.

I've been preparing for our goodbyes long before we will need to say them. It should probably be really tough for me to think about all of these things, especially during the holidays and especially while following the pregnancies of my friends. It should be hard for me to get out of bed and face each day knowing with each turn of the calendar, we are closer to the inevitable. And yet I find myself so very thankful for the opportunity to be a mother again. I had thought another pregnancy was unlikely and I was feeling so much sorrow over the process of trying and never succeeding at getting pregnant again. I know that Imogen will not live for very long and although that is definitely a blow to my spirit, I know her life is a gift. She has allowed me to experience another pregnancy and another chance at motherhood. She is still my sweet little girl and will always remain a significant part of my life. How can I not be thankful for such a gift?

Buzz kill

I really didn't know how else to title this post. One of the more upsetting things about this journey is how honest I am when I respond to people who congratulate me on my pregnancy. There are usually two ways I go about responding depending on who I am talking to.
If it is a complete stranger, I smile and say thank you. No issue there. I will most likely never see that person again and do not feel the need to fill them in on any details. But I am starting to see more familiar faces who I am not connected to through social media and they come up and rub my belly and congratulate me immediately and I feel that being honest and explaining our situation is the best for all involved. Today it happened and I could tell she wished she never brought it up. I said in my best "I am keeping it together" voice, "Thank you! We are so excited but we also know that she has a fatal defect and unfortunately won't live for very long. Still, we are loving and cherishing her every second we have her."

....

That usually makes me feel like a real buzz kill. But I do it to save myself from having to tell those same people after she is born and already gone. I don't know for certain, but I am guessing that after she is born I will be an emotional mess and I'd rather tell people now than when I am likely to explode from my hormones. Basically, I'm saving us all from my hormones... You're welcome.

I have pretty much mastered not crying every time I talk about it. It isn't that I don't want to cry, or that I feel ashamed of crying, it is that I don't want to be a mess. I do shed tears and honestly, they aren't all from being sad. Her life and this pregnancy are still very joyful for me. I don't feel burdened by our situation. I am learning so much from it. I am amazed at how strong my heart can be even under so much stress. I hope my children can take something away from this as well. I don't think anyone likes to suffer. I sure don't. But I am going to embrace it and take the things I learn from it and make something wonderful out of it.

Blank

Sometimes I catch myself staring at nothing for moments at a time, or deep in thought about the chaos that is my life. Sometimes I don't realize I am trapped in my own thoughts about the baby or the days after we have her and come home to face life without her physically in it. Sometimes I even forget I am pregnant (although briefly because have you seen this belly?) but I think that stems from not wanting to bum myself out. I asked a couple weeks ago via Facebook if it would be strange to still shop for my baby? I know she won't need many things but I plan to take thousands of photos and I am wondering if it would be therapeutic to purchase a few outfits. I also don't want to torture myself in the baby aisles of Target.

When we were trying for a baby, I eventually had to stop walking near the baby section because I figured it just wasn't going to happen for us. I know some people think it is terrible to wish for a certain gender but we wanted another girl so badly. Obviously we would have been overjoyed at either having a son or daughter. Now, even though I am actually carrying her, it feels like a cruel joke and I am taunted by the cute little outfits and visions of her meeting all of her first milestones. I dreamt of another little snuggly baby on my chest for so long and just when we finally felt like this was what we had been waiting for, we must face that she will leave us much too soon. To spare my sanity I choose to stay away from the baby section most of the time.

I know I am on my way to better days. This doesn't mean I wish she wasn't conceived because I am so happy to have this little life alive inside of me. It is just really difficult to enjoy and celebrate quite like I want to. It is an honor to give life and be a mother. Her little soul is safe with me and she is loved. I just wish I didn't feel like a blank page, never able to write the first word.

Imogen

We named our sweet little girl Imogen. She has already stolen many hearts and she has yet to take her first breath. Somehow, the days ahead seem more hopeful than bleak. I try to focus on the good this brings us and the amount of love people are pouring out and giving to us. We are being prayed for steadily and I have no doubt this is why I can get out of bed each morning. The reality of her diagnosis has set in and I am at peace with what lies before us. Yes, it still hurts. My heart is heavy. I feel a little tortured at times knowing several friends and acquaintances are carrying healthy babies and that our due dates are close. I am already preparing mentally for the thoughts I am sure to have when I see pictures of those healthy babies arriving safe and sound into their parent's loving arms. I will have good days and bad days and really, really, really terrible days. I will still laugh and find reasons to be joyful, even when I think about our sweet Imogen. I am still her mother and she is my daughter. She will always be our fourth child. She will always be a huge part of our lives and we will celebrate her life, even if it only lasts for a few moments.

Today, I am nearing my 22nd week of pregnancy. I am terrified about the labor. I have researched all of my birth plan options to deliver her safely. I will soon need to register at the hospital. Soon I will have to pack a hospital bag knowing that I probably won't need anything for my baby in it. I won't need a diaper bag. I won't need a car seat to bring my baby home. I won't need anything really but a nice long break from reality. If I have sleepless nights, it will be from longing to hold my baby. All of these things really sting. It is important for me to face these feelings. When you ask me how I am doing, I will say I am doing well, and I really am doing well. I have made peace with our circumstance and I am still going to cherish this pregnancy and this baby. But I know I don't have to be strong all of the time. It is okay to totally collapse and feel great sadness. I know and accept all of these things.

To help me along, I have started writing notes to Imogen. At some point, I will likely share these with you. I am starting a scrapbook for her and we are buying a keepsake box to hold our memories.
I'm not afraid of this journey because I know I'm not alone.

New Territory

How do you write anything that makes sense when your world turns upside down?
How do you keep breathing when heavy burdens weigh you down?

Unfortunately, this is my territory now and I hate it.

We met our little girl via our 16 week ultrasound last Friday and our joy abruptly turned to sorrow upon learning that she'd never survive very long after birth.
According to our doctor she has anencephaly and did not grow vital parts of her brain and skull.  Otherwise, she looked perfect on that screen. She was dancing and moving so much that I would never have thought anything was wrong, let alone something so fatal.

So  now, our journey has shifted from a joyous 9 months of carrying our little girl to bring her home healthy and happy, to one of only getting to love and snuggle her for mere minutes (maybe longer).

There will be no baby to bring home and that kills me. But I know that however long her life is, she will feel all the love we have to give her. That is why the only choice I could ever make was to continue the pregnancy. I honestly could never purposefully end my own child's life even in grim circumstances. She deserves love for as long as her heart is beating and even long after.

And from this...I was changed by this. Dare I even say that I was changed for the better. That sounds odd and maybe even terrible to some people but truly, I am different in a kinder, stronger way.

Instead of purchasing a layette, crib sheets, cute onesies and baby-proofing the house, we will be planning for her end of life before she even takes her first breath, which pretty much bums me out. Knowing her first day of life will most likely be her last isn't easy to face but I am and I know we will all get through it. The days will be good and bad and everything in between but I know I have love and support.

I will soon be going shopping to find a special keepsake box and baby book. I've also heard of necklaces for keeping some of her ashes in which I will be looking into. I still have to get through about 5 months of carrying her beautiful soul inside of me and there will be days I probably just won't want to get out of bed but I am trying to show my children that we can be sad and strong. We can grieve and find hope in each other. I will treasure every moment she dances inside of my womb, knowing that as long as she is safe inside, she will feel every ounce of my love. Her life, no matter the length, will be celebrated. Her life has meaning. I may not even comprehend what that is yet, but I know it is something deep and wonderful and will make me a better human.

I will try to document most of what I feel here and on my Facebook. It brings me a sense of peace to write about every emotion. Maybe it can even help someone else going through something similar.

It will be a roller coaster watching friends give birth around the same time to healthy sons and daughters but I know that this all has some rhyme and reason. And I am teaching my children a valuable lesson as well. That it is okay to be sad. It is okay to show that side of us. And that being vulnerable isn't a sign of weakness. That isn't to say I am not feeling weak at times. But there is a beautiful sense of strength when you are surrounded by so many who care and genuinely cover you with love and prayers. I have learned so much and still, the learning has probably just begun.

Two out of three...

School started last month. The first day went smashingly and things seemed perfectly normal. Everyone was excited about starting a new school year and I was happy to be back at work. The second day was quite a different one. Remy was sent home sick and we assumed it was the flu. He was pale and didn't want to do much of anything. The following day I missed work to stay home with him and noticed some odd symptoms, including severe pain in his abdomen. I suspected appendicitis and hoped I was wrong. Turns out, I have pretty good intuition and we headed to the hospital with a note from our doctor. Remy had an appendectomy later that day. He spent another day in recovery and we were sent home. He had to miss two weeks of school and as soon as he returned to school we learned Phoenix would need his tonsils out as soon as possible. Oh boy!

So a week later surgery took place and another recovery began. It was hard to watch him go through such pain but with the shape his tonsils were in, it was really the only option. He had been so sick the last three years and those darn tonsils were very infected. The doctor was surprised he hadn't had them out sooner. I just wanted everyone under my roof to be healthy again.

Now both boys are back in school (as of today), and I am crossing my fingers and toes that the worst is over. I would like to avoid any further medical emergencies for the time being because pregnancy and stress do not mix! There was a moment where I had to laugh just to avoid crying the weekend before the tonsillectomy because Mazzy came down with a mysterious case of hives. After a few days they were gone but really? I almost thought we were going three for three.

And in lighter news... We may be finding out the baby's sex next week.
I am just under 16 weeks and although I am not quite halfway through this pregnancy, I know it will fly by. Maybe I will post some belly shots from my Instagram next time. I really look more like 5 or 6 months pregnant but if you know me, you know that is what usually happens. I wouldn't trade it for anything. I am treasuring every second of this pregnancy!