Stay with me

I never thought I would end up loving this area that we live in.
But something happened in July.
I found my place, my community and I settled in. I stopped fighting it and realized, I had always fit in here, I had just been through way too much to let it happen easily.
After 4 years of grief, stress and not fitting in anywhere, I found my place and my footing.

And since then this place has been wonderful. More than wonderful. and I can say without hesitation that I love living here.
This is Truman's home, Remington's home. Our home. Me and all my boys.

So it doesn't even matter where we are moving to. The news is, we are moving.
and I am panicking inside.
I am leaving Truman's spots, our roads that we were together, the houses, the beaches, the forests, the stores, the doctors offices, our entire story has been here in Northern California and San Francisco.

For so long I struggled and was isolated. Grief was my only friend. There were no visitors. There was no company. Just stillness.
I don't know how or why but I found myself in love with with all of it.
I am in love with our tragic story. I think it's beautiful and meaningful. and sacred. More so than anything else in my life.
I sat in my garden, my chest heavy with grief and my body broken in despair and I let the California sun warm my skin and comfort my cold heart.
My dogs and I laid in the grass and I remember thinking every flower was for you.
Every breath that I struggled I to take was for you.
You were alive here.
You lived here.
You died here.

So when I think about us pulling out of this neighborhood and driving away and never coming back I feel sick.

Where will I go to be with you, Truman?
Where will I see you?
Where will I grow my dahlia garden for you?
Will you come with us, please?
Or will you stay in the redwood trees? In the waves at moonstone beach? In the hills and tall buildings of SF?

I'm scared and grieving and we haven't even packed yet.

I wanted to write many times between last time and now.
The day in and day out just doesn't leave much time for writing now a days.

Today I pulled Truman's ashes off the shelf and held him for a while.
He has been around more lately in a sense that I cant quite articulate. Or maybe my grief has just been heavier lately. It's hard to say.
His name has been popping up more than usual from outside sources. And it's not a common name so it when I hear it It really is like finding a rare gem.
As Remy grows I feel like I get to see pieces of Truman. They are completely different. But here i am getting to know his little brother. An honor that Truman never got. Maybe they would have had the same laugh or the same mannerisms. I like to think so.
So i day dream about him. Sit in wonder and in missing while my heart is full of pride and gratitude that i have been blessed with both of these children.
I yearn to smell sunscreen on his skin. To see him run through the back yard. To hold his hand. To nuzzle into his neck. To feel his soft blonde hair one more time. To feel is small hands grab at my skin. To get the chances that are long gone. But most of all, it's the moments when I'm comforting Remington when he has fallen and hurt or is just upset, that i'm cradling him and making it better that my heart screams for Truman. I wish so much that I could have been that comfort for him.
That I could have picked up his broken body, kissed his boo-boos and made everything all better.
and i just couldn't.
and i didn't.
not until he lied there dying. and after he was dead and gone.
His suffering was so completely unfair.

There are still many triggers.
The lady across the street (we moved) had her son a month before I had Truman. We were in the same NICU at the same time. Now she is my neighbor and I see her son all the time. It's not her son that is the trigger. In that situation it's her. She constantly talks about how we "are the same family" in her eyes and how she views my family and her family as "the same." And then rehashes all of her NICU experiences. I understand that I am probably a comfort to her. Because I was in the NICU too. So i get it. But part of me, the bitch part of me, wants to say "Your son is in the other room and it's 2.5 years later and you are taking about this non-stop to a lady whose son didn't make it out." Traumatizing as the NICU is, I don't want to hear about how hard it is for those who survived and are living a pretty normal life as far as NICU graduates go. Go figure she is a psychology major who doesn't pick up on my distressed facial expressions. I swear it's ironically always the social workers and psych majors who are the most oblivious to grief.

My father knows a couple who just had a 24 weeker. She is doing great. You would think that it would make me feel good, which logically it does. But deep down it breaks me that so many babies that are so much earlier and sicker than Truman that live and grow and make it. I just don't understand and i never will - why my baby needed to die. I will never have those answers. and these NICU stories bring back some strong PTSD symptoms sometimes. I'm never going to get over what happened there. In SF, 2.5 years ago. For as long as I live, my entire life will be defined by that July and August. People may not like that I say that. But it's the truth. Nothing in my life compares. It's everything before that and everything after.
So many people walk away from these hardships stronger. and the truth is, i have suffered a lot through out my life and usually, in other cases, i have walked away stronger. But not this time. Losing Truman truly broke me as a person.
I still haven't found my new normal. and while many of the 2011 loss parents seem to be letting go and doing well in their new normal... it almost makes me panic that i am so far behind schedule. I have some new hobbies. But i am blander. Sadder. Less interesting. Less enthusiastic. Less friendly. Less of everything. Still. I look in the mirror and all I see is grief in my face. The vibrant Laura is gone. Long gone. Died August 4th, 2011 the day my first drew his last breath.
As much as i want to live life to the fullest and live enough for the both of us- I am just so tired still. I am still stuck in the fog. and I am really starting to wonder if other loss parents are in the fog still? Or if their fog is their new normal?
I don't know.
My grief has come to a point where i am no longer at a loss for words. I am no longer silent again. I am now reflective. I am now able and ready to look back and try to make sense of all of this. To try to attempt to fix my broken self.
I work hard every day of my life trying to make Remy's childhood a magical and happy one. But I think i need to get my muchness back in order to really live a normal life. and i wonder if it will ever come.

Truman has a memorial garden that I work on a lot. I have been searching for years for a lion statue to add to the garden. The missing piece to showcase his space in my world now a days. I can not find the right one. nothing seems good enough. nothing seems right. and as I search and search I think about my poor boy. The one who never ever got what he truly deserved. and i can never give it to him. and the thought instantly brings tears to my eyes. How could someone so innocent and sweet have their short life so horrible and hard?

 Now that Remington is here my new time with Truman is in the middle of the night, right after R falls back asleep from his feedings. I lay there and think about him. I listen to his brother breathing and my heart fills with an ache of massive gratitude and longing. I wish so much that he could have been able to breathe as well as R.
My poor baby.
I find myself sleeping less and less these days.
Juggling Remy's schedule and Truman's.
To quote a Still Standing Mag article I read not to long ago.... "I am the the exhausted mom meeting the grieving mom."
What's weird though... Is these days my grief energizes me, kind of.
I get way less sleep cradling Truman's memory and my aching heart. But when I'm awake I am squeezing every single slippery moment with Remington so tight- out of pure gratitude- that my exhaustion seems to just go away.
I wish that Truman got all of this, but he didn't and he doesn't. So i give Remy twice as much. He gets extra patience. Extra kisses. Extra everything.
And at times, on some days, that means an extra weepy momma too.

This doesn't go away.
This doesn't get easier.
Sorry.
It's so so complex.
His life and his death are still woven into every aspect of our lives and it's still so confusing.
It's still hard to make sense of and find the words.

I walk past his ashes every single day.
I kiss his urn and whisper I love you  whenever I think of it.
Yup, I just wrote that.
And it was hard for me to do.
Admitting to myself and you the reader that I get so wrapped up with my living son that he only gets an occasional kiss and a whisper "when I find the time" or his pictures help me to remember. The overwhelming heaviness and guilt that comes with that emotion, that realization, that sentence.... It's crushing.
It really hurts.
I realize it when I give him a moment.
I realize it now when I'm coming clean.
It fucking hurts, like make you howl out in pain, hurt.
I wish so much that he wasn't in that box.
I wish so much that he was a loud mouthed, boundary pushing, crazy little force to be reckoned with ripping through this house right now. Demanding attention and love and kisses.
Taking up physical space.
Instead of the shelf
and these 2 hours in the middle of the quiet night.
But I guess i just needed to write tonight and say that all this loving the now, gratitude, and living here on earth in the moment takes time away from me mentally being with him, where ever he is.
And I feel it.
And it's hard.
It creates a whole new level of missing.

-L

Our sweet rainbow baby, Remington, made his way into the world on Aug 17th!
We had an amazing birth experience and have been bonding like crazy.
I did have two elevated BP's but no other sign of pre-e! Which I'm totally stoked about.

36

I've made it past the first goal set by the perinatologists.
37 weeks is the next goal.
I'm almost there.
as the days are ticking by my fear and anxiety is rising.
I am scared every single day that he has died inside me.
We 12 days away from his birthday and I just don't want to lose him now... we have come so far... we are so close.
It's all just so far out of my control.... just like it was with Truman.... just like it will continue to be if he is born alive... i can only do what i can do to the best of my ability.
If i make it til the end of the week it will mean that I will have myself a TERM baby. and the thought of that literally blows my mind.
So much for reading all of those preemie books just in case as a refresher- so much for pulling out Truman's tiny preemie clothes thinking maybe his brother would need them. Nope.
These two children are so different. and I love everything about both of them and all of their differences.
my two precious lion cubs. Who would have every thought.

I've been re-assessing my need to blog lately.
There is a lot of things going on in my mind and heart constantly.
I used this outlet for the past 2 years and it has helped me to heal.
But at this point i just feel like I kind of want to keep my beautiful life private and.... I just feel like shutting up.
I'm not sure if this feeling will last or if it's temporary.
But either way I'd like to thank you guys for reading and being a part of my circle here in the blog world.
I've made a lot of amazing connections through this blog.... blog friends have turned into really life friends and I'm truly grateful for my community.

I will obviously update when Remy arrival news but I'm not sure how much more after that. xo

33

33 weeks.

The nurses at my the hospital here in town today verified my very grateful feelings on my decision to not give birth here in Hum.
I went in for another weekly non-stress test and you could tell from the moment that I walked in that no one had read my chart.

"Why are you doing these weekly?" the first nurse asked coldly as she hooked me up, assuming that i'm probably full of shit. Or at least that is what her tone read. After i was gaslighted so many times with my pre-eclampsia I really have a short temper when it comes to medical professionals who treat women like they are constantly over-reacting.
It's like if you can't read my chart, if you don't already know why, then go fly a kite.
"Because UCSF wants them done." I replied in a short tone in response.
I was actually considering cutting some of my favorite dahlias from my TruGarden and bringing them to to nurses station today too- because last weeks nurse was such an angel. Last weeks nurse was sweet and teared up when I told her about Truman in a compassionate way.
I was grateful that I had run out of time to cut the dahlias for them with every word she spoke.
"Yes, why though?" she repeated.
I left a deliberate pause hoping that the silence would leave room for her own thoughts about how she should have read my chart to enter her brain.
"Because I was flown out of here down to UCSF with my last pregnancy, had early on set, severe pre-clampsia and resulted in 2 weeks of hospitalization where my son had decellerations on and off during that time and then ended up dying in the NICU."
"Oh, I see." she said. No sorry, no nothing.

Then the next nurse asked the same question and my patience level was low at the point.
I am an animal nurse, so I know that it is unprofessional to walk into a room and start asking questions when all of the answers are literally sitting right there in my chart and they are just too lazy to read them. Not to mention deeply personally and painful questions.
All someone needs to do is write PREECLAMPSIA on first page in my chart and INFANT LOSS and highlight it so every new nurse can quickly look an get the gist.
After the second explanation that day.... for a total of 4 explanations at the same Labor and Deliver in this small hospital I had definitely had it.
Before I left the laborist for the day came in to talk to me- she (thankfully for her sake and for mine) had read my chart before coming in and proceeded to talk to me about fear and birthing this time around. She mentioned that it is very good that I clearly understand that these are two totally different pregnancies and two totally different babies because it will help with the fear.
Don't you think that maybe the nursing staff would figure out that if you are making a patient re-tell and re-live her last experience over and over again every single time she comes in that it might be detrimental to her relaxation? It definitely reassured me that they are not the hospital for me.


Today on ultrasound I got some really good peaks of Remy.
He is beautiful- big chubby cheeks, pouty lips and some duck fluff hair already. My little lion cubs are serious about their manes. ;) He yawned and stretched for us.
One characteristic really jumped out at me though- his nose. It looks exactly like Truman's.
After Truman was born Jeff and I were both trying to figure out whose nose it was and where he got it from and what I think now is that its just some sort of genetic mesh of mine and Jeff's together.... because it's pretty distinct of a baby nose in my opinion.
Brother's with the same nose.
I wonder what else they will have that's alike.

31 weeks

Things have been going really really well (knock on wood).
No signs of pre-e at all.
Titers are low.
Placenta previa is still an issue but not one they are worried about.
I failed my 1 hour glucose test but i'm doing the finger sticks and I think so far so good. We shall see how that pans out.


I'm 31 weeks and I can't believe I only have 7 more weeks to go. It's scary. and a bit overwhelming but I'm excited.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

My friend Stephanie hasn't always had it easy. She has experienced loss in her own way. But i'm not going to get into that because that is her story to tell not mine.
But this girl is a bad ass. I always joke that her and her husband have a "Moon list" which is a list that i made up that has everything that they have ever done and goes from here to the moon. In fact going to the moon might be the only thing that isn't on the list.

A random list of bad ass stuff that they have done in their short lives: surf, scuba dive, treasure hunt, live on a sailboat, travel the world on a sailboat, invent majorly complex things that go on oil rigs to keep them from exploding (like the Gulf incident), wrangle horses, save animals small and large and the list of impressive things just goes on and on.
It's like hanging out with the coolest pirate and the coolest mermaid that you've ever met in your life. They sort of seem like fictional characters because of their tales.
But in all honesty i have seen Steph at work and she is a gentle soul, a compassionate and caring soul, who spends her life healing and taking care of the innocent and the broken.
and you just wonder where is that good karma bad around when you need it?

Stephanie and Dwight have been battling infertility.
Its been a long road for them. So things are starting to pick up speed and now is the time for them to really push the pedal on this.
I decided to start a fund to try and help them out.
It's something that I wish someone would have done for me after Truman died. I mean its really stressful when funds are short and medical bills keep coming.
Honestly it feels REALLY good to even attempt to help out these bad ass people.
They really deserve support and a good shot at this before time runs out.

She will be blogging on this link with updates as she moves along in her fertility treatments.
I thought I would share her info on here in hopes that you guys would share her story and this link with people who you have met either in real life or in the blog world who can help her through this time.
Here's her link:
http://www.gofundme.com/BrookerBaby

Thanks guys, xo

Just below the surface

28 weeks.
Something is going on with me that is just out of reach.

On Sunday the lady who performed Truman's memorial service came into my work.
This lady is a bonafide Humboldt weirdo so I wasn't horribly offended when she clearly forgot who I was and started asking questions about if this was my first child or not.
I said no, this is my second son. It still didn't trigger her memory.
She talked about her life, her family member who is pregnant and her dogs and then left.
I found myself thinking about the memorial and how beautiful it was and how much it really helped me process everything that I had happened.

I totally forgot about the interaction.

The next morning I woke up and tears just wouldn't stop coming.
It wasn't that I was sobbing or crying really.... It was just a constant flow of tears streaming down my face.
It's so hard to explain.
This went on for hours and I truly couldn't figure out what brought this on until I mentioned to Jeff that I had run into weird memorial lady the day before. It then hit me that she must have been some sort of trigger.
The timing itself is enough to make anyone weep really. But that must have been it because as soon as i talked to him about it, brought the thought to the surface of my mind, I stopped crying.

Then last night I cried in my sleep.
Down right sobbed for Truman.
Talked about how much I miss him and long for him to 3 women who I have no idea who they are.
I woke up with a stuffy nose and a wet pillow.

This is the first time that I can remember crying in my sleep since the very beginning. Right after Truman died Jeff said I would sob loudly and call for him.

So I think even though I know that this is a hard time for us I still feel a level of detachment from heavy grief. I feel like I'm calm waters on the surface but just below the surface there is a lot going on.

27 weeks

I woke up this morning with grief. I am 27 weeks.
I laid in bed and thought about what 27 weeks meant to Truman and I.
I was emergency flown out of the county at 27 weeks with him.
I had already been pre-eclamptic for weeks.
Once Truman was born at almost 30 weeks, he was the size of a 27 weeker because of his growth restriction.

It kills me that that's all he got in life. Almost 30 weeks in my body and 4 days outside in a plastic box with needles and tubes down his throat and machines.
and the scientist in me is grateful because i know that he would not have made it that far without the medical advancements we have today.
It's just so heartbreaking.

As you know i'm not religious but will be the first to admit that anything is possible and i'm not the one with any answers.
Part of me wonders if Truman knows Remy on any level. Or knew him. Or will know him.
I think about these two boys, these two brothers and I am compounded with grief that they too will be separated, they too will not hear each other's laugh and play and fight and do things that brothers do together.
How do I even begin to help Remy understand any of it once he is able to.

Remy's kicks are very strong and they are the most comforting part of my day.
I hope that he lives a long and normal life and my intuition says that he probably will.
It makes the fact that Truman died even harder to believe.
How the hell did any of this even happen??
How is it that babies die? What is the point of that?
It's such a confusing and disorienting cycle of thoughts and feelings.
I miss my first son, my sweet little lion cub, who had so much courage and strength.
I'm missing all the places and times that are suppose to be filled with him and all of his wonderfulness. I feel the griefs largeness... it shook my foundation, rocked it, broke it up, filled in the cracks and now has settled into the very same foundation of who and what I am. Everything that I am and ever will be is built upon this foundation. It's the sky, it's the horizon, it's the sun and the clouds, it's my heart, it's the colors, it's everything.
and for Remy, I find myself grieving on his behalf. He will never know his older brother. and it breaks my heart that he will be coming into the world already missing someone that should be here.

Remy 25 weeks. With Truman.

A MUST listen radio podcast called "23 weeks 6 days".....
and don't forget to read the comment section (unreal!)

Had to share it with you guys.

I think many of us loss parents, TTC parents, preemie parents and NICU parents can majorly relate. I commend these parents for their bravery and articulation.... it's hard to describe our struggles as well and as clearly as they do!


http://www.radiolab.org/2013/apr/30/?utm_source=local&utm_media=treatment&utm_campaign=daMost&utm_content=damostviewed

Choices and Lying

As the days in my pregnancy move a long my belly keeps the questions coming from strangers.

Is this my first baby?

How old is my first?

These questions are not easy for me at all. In fact they torture me on a daily basis.

I have never been a liar, i have always been very honest until Truman died. Lying for this answer is necessary sometimes depending on the circumstances but it always makes me feel absolutely awful and filled with guilt.

Yesterday i learned my lesson. I will never lie about Truman again.

I was at work and a woman started asking me all about my pregnancy, like any other day and any other customer... this time I decided to lie. Next thing I know this woman is literally crying on my shoulder about her husband of 13 years that left her. Her first husband did the same thing. It turned into a straight up counseling session... one that made me feel like i needed therapy just from listening to her crazy.
Her pain is real. But she dumped it on me not knowing my truth and my truth might have helped her put some things into perspective.
I realized that i made things much much harder on myself by not being honest with her and protecting my and Remy's emotional space.

Towards the end i started to become less compassionate and more stand offish because she was really getting into way too much personal detail with a stranger... i resorted to shrugs and "yup, life has a way of doing that doesn't it?" after 20 mins in.
Then I started resenting her for being so devastated that some douche bag who tells her horrible things and does horrible things has left her and she is so pathetic about it all. She wants him back, etc. Who the hell I am to resent someone else for their struggles and pain?
I don't know but i definitely do it, i acknowledge that it's happening and try not to.
There is plenty of suffering going around in this world.
I guess maybe I just think there is a MAJOR difference between suffering that we choose and suffering that just happens to us.
You choose your husband.

I've read that many people believe that losing their child has made them more compassionate. In some ways it has for me.... like obviously i know what it means to be a mother to a sick child in the hospital where before i didn't.... and i know what it's like now to be both motherless and childless on Mother's Day.....
So i am more compassionate in some aspects due to new understanding and severity....
but i have lost compassion in other areas. Pain is pain and grief is grief and often when someone is in the thick of it it's hard to tell them that there is a difference in all of it.
But i know now that there is a difference because i have lived through many different kinds of grief myself and i do not have as much compassion for people who act flat out weak.
It sounds awful, but it's true.

The amount of effort it took just to open my eyes in the morning and continue to breathe... when my only goal of the day was to make the short but heavy walk to the mail box and back.... and to the bathroom and then back to bed. The grief was just so heavy and the fact that there are people out there walking around, freshly showered, with food and coffee in their stomachs, make up on, shopping around town and stop in somewhere to emotionally dump on anyone who has to listen to them?? It's really hard for me to be super compassionate to their pain.
I have never liked those people who just respond with "buck up, things will get better, just stay positive." But here I am emotionally exhausted... with the biggest case of compassion fatigue EVER, finding myself just wanting to shut people the hell up.
New territory for me.
When I am honest about Truman, it tends to shut people the hell up. Double edged sword.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Many of you know that i am adopted.
I have always been SO grateful for this. I am very close with my family and i can't imagine my life any other way even though it hasn't been perfect- i wouldn't trade a thing.
One person that I have lost compassion for is my birth mother, "C".
She victimizes herself constantly and after Truman died she wrote to me saying "I know how you feel right now, I felt the same pain when I gave you up for adoption."
I didn't even continue to read the rest of the letter.
I wrote back explaining that anyone who ever says that to a mother who just held her child in her arms as he died and then had to leave the hospital without him can say that while typing a letter to their very alive offspring is absolutely clueless and it's inappropriate.

One involves choices, many choices.

The other doesn't involve many choices at all, if any.

On mother's day my biological grandmother (C's mom) echoed a statement like this on facebook. I obviously could not keep my mouth shut.

How can you explain to people who really think that they know what this kind of pain feels like?

Without having to bury a child? 

I basically explained that she made choices when she was younger. Then she gave me up for adoption.

Then she met me when i was 13 years old. 

and since then she'd had even more choices to make on how she would develop a relationship with me and she has had pictures and conversations, and moments and chances to be involved in my life and see how i am developing and you simply can not compare any of that to a a woman who has a dead child. 

because there is NONE of that for them, for us. There are no options at all for any of it. 

and they simply just do not understand any of it. good for them.

Because they are so radically Christian they believe that i will have all those chances again. It must be nice to know something so completely in your heart to the point where nothing about death really bothers you all that much. Those deep beliefs keep them from really thinking about how other people deal with life without their children here.

I am not close to my birth family because with all of the chances that I gave C to be a part of my life she made bad decisions over and over again. Given the chance to be a mother figure, she just acted crazy instead.

She has such deep seeded mental issues and spent years alienating me because she could not get a grip on reality and the now. She is stuck in the past on constantly puts her issues with giving me up onto me.... which is beyond frustrating.... because i seriously love the fact that i was put up for adoption. I would never want her as my mother, as mean as that sounds, it's the truth. 

I do think that it takes a special kind of crazy for someone to be able to carry their child for 9 months and then birth it and give it away... it may be loving and kind and i respect it but i also think it's insane. That is just my opinion though. It made it even more clear for me after being with Truman. I'm not saying that she didn't grieve or go through a lot... but there are just way too many differences to list to clump them into the same pain category. There is a huge difference between her loss and mine. To bad i'm the only one who sees it. 

When I hear her and her family put me and her into the same category i feel disrespected and misunderstood.

I really do not think they will ever really figure any of it out. 

Wow, I've been a bad bad blogger lately.
Sorry my friends. What it came down to was that i didn't have anything nice to say so I didn't say anything at all.
I was very depressed.
and with a rainbow baby on board that brought along a lot of guilt.
Especially since things are going very well.
I am 22 weeks, no sign of pre-eclampsia (knocking on wood) and my titers have been low.

I was diagnosed with placenta previa that we will be rechecking so i am hopeful that the placenta just moves where it's suppose to go. We will see.

But I am happy to report that my depression has lifted and I am finally really truly enjoying this pregnancy. Things are looking up and I hope that they continue to go in that direction.

I even tempted fate today and bought Remy his first baby clothes.
It was a pretty big deal.

The car seat is next and that is the big one for me....
for a lot of people the empty baby blanket or the empty crib or never worn baby shoes are a good symbolic visual of our pain.... the one that gets me the most is the empty car seat.
I wanted to bring Truman home in his car seat so badly and thought with every inch of me that I would someday... crushing. I hope I get to bring Remy home in his.

Second trimester with Remington so far:

Kicking like a mad man.... but he is unpredictable in his movements. (which is very different than Truman was-- it's crazy how different they are already!)

He loves seafood (in moderation of course) and anything peanut flavored including thai peanut sauces and peanut butter.

He does not like when i slouch and makes sure to remind me.

He loves the sun (just like his momma!).

~~~~~~~~~

I feel honored to be included on such an awesome project for our community! 
Stop by and see my guest post over at Still Standing Magazine.....

http://stillstandingmag.com/2013/05/motherless-childless-grateful-on-mothers-day/

With Due dates between the end of July and the beginning of October....I know 15 women so far within my circle of friends/ facebook friends who are pregnant. That's out of people who have told me... i'm sure there are more of them out there keeping it quiet.

and i just keep thinking 1in 4..... 1 in 4!!!!!!!!!

Absolutely heartbreaking. I wish the stupid statistic never existed.

--------------

I have been much more depressed this pregnancy then I was with Truman. With Truman i was literally in a constant state of bliss. Not so much now and i think it's my grief mixed with my hormones.
Everything is just so much harder. I feel like i need help but don't know how to ask for it or even if i could figure that part out, i don't know if i could actually allow someone to help me.
But our living situation as got to change. and I need help cooking and cleaning. and packing for the move. and i need help finding a nice place to live that isn't going to bankrupt us.
and i'm feeling really overwhelmed with it all. I feel like a failure of a mother, wife and pregnant woman because i am just not coping with daily stressors well at all these days.
It's times like this when i really wish that my family members lived near by or a close friend. But they don't. and i have been going it alone for so so so long now. I'm just so tired.


Still waiting on round two of titer test results.
It's taking so long this time it makes me feel like we had a big jump in the numbers or something so they wanted to do it twice or something. It's been 10 days of waiting. I just want my baby to be safe and those titer's to be LOW!!!!!
We went for the NT ultrasound and it appears that Truman will have a little brother! I'm only 14 weeks so i'm not going to run out and start buying stuff for him yet but i'm 98% sure that he is a he. So blog world....

Meet our 

Remington Crawford Clerc

"Remy"

how something bad ended up good

On tuesday i started bleeding, again.
I didn't panic.
not because it isn't terrifying but because i have relinquished control. or have been living in the realm of serious possibilities for so long now... that i am a little emotionally detached in some ways. maybe it's a defense mechanism. probably.
i left work, went to bed and by the next day it was gone.

last night the bleeding came back.
it was enough for me to stop and think, huh- twice in one week?
this is starting to seem like a placental issue.
so i called the doctor's line and got the on-call nurse.
and as you all know if you regularly read my posts... the call was pointless because they are inept here.
She was very sweet and meant well, but told me that i could just "relax" and "send positive vibes and love to the baby" or i could go to the hospital.
I pulled the phone away from my mouth and laughed when she said it in her overly caring and zened out tone.
If ONLY sending love to baby would save it. It would fix all of our problems.

Within an hour the blood had progressed to bright red and an amount enough to make me think yes, Houston we are having a problem. Placenta or miscarriage.

I am 12 weeks. 4 days.
Around this time with Truman i had a similar episode although it was different in small ways. I had a low lying placenta with him in the beginning too.

We got to ER which is perhaps the nicest building that i have ever stepped foot in all of Eureka. I felt like i was transported back to the real world... but that didn't last long. It's a friday night in Eureka in the ER... we were surrounded by paranoid drug addicts and mentally ill people. Why isn't someone video taping my entire life? Fiction can not compare. Luckily i triaged right in.

No one, not one of the 6 nurses that i repeated our story to, not the NP, i'm pretty sure not even the ER doctor knew what little c antibody was when they were asking about my blood type.
We were literally educating our care providers at the hospital, awesome.

They put in an IV line and started fluids.
Ran a urine and took some blood.

Our nurse was detached... not in a normal hospital way but in a "this is fun! everything you are saying is great news" type of way. Even though she was totally aware of our history.
She brought in the fetal doppler after proclaiming that she hasn't really used one and literally said "let's play!"
Jeff and I shot each other a look and took a deep breath. Let's not play, because this might be the most not-fun game you've ever wanted to play lady.
I don't think she really thought through how it might make parents feel if she couldn't find the heartbeat.

Of course, Ms. Fun&Games spent about 10 mins trying to find our baby's heartbeat with no luck. Just silence.
I think most people at this point would have flipped the fuck out.
But we didn't.
We recognized that this nurse, at no fault of her own, was ignorant and not capable of truly helping us on any level. and maybe we also just feel pretty defeated constantly since Truman died.
She left the room and Jeff and I waited patiently for the ultrasound tech.

Once the ultrasound tech got there we realize that she was Ms.RuleBook.
She told us that she would not give us a picture of the baby and that we were not allowed to take pictures of the screen. In my head i was thinking screw you lady but i knew that she was coming from somewhere with all these strict rules.
She told us that she can not answer any of our questions, that the doctor will have to do that.

The baby came up on the screen and at first wasn't moving and she wasn't picking up a heart beat.
That's when i started to think, okay this might really be it.
After i sort of let her know out loud that i wasn't seeing a heart rate reading she told me that she had picked one up in the 160's.
At that moment the relief i felt is indescribable.
The baby started moving around and Jeff and I were truly overcome with love and joy for the first time this entire pregnancy without any hesitation.
In that moment, we were together, the 4 of us and we were happy. Really happy.
The baby is SO beautiful and sweet and i really hope that i get more time with it.
It was just this really amazing moment where we were all in sync and realized, any of us could die in a min from now, a day from now, a week from now, whatever... and that will never not be the case. But we just held onto the moment and loved it so much for what it was. and it felt free. it felt strong. it felt amazing.

The tech picked up on our overwhelming joy and loosened up on her strict rules, she spent the next 15 mins just playing, looking at the baby from different angles and just letting us ENJOY the moment. It was by far the best sonogram that i have ever had done. Because it helped me emotionally and she didn't rush. We had time with the baby. and it finally made it real for us in ways that it just wasn't before.

At the end she quietly found it's little profile and printed a picture. She handed it to me and said "I'm not suppose to do this but i know i would have been driving home kicking myself for not just giving one to you. I know how hard it can be, I had fertility problems when trying for my daughter and then she almost died at birth. Just don't tell anyone that you got it from me."

The baby looks very much like Truman. Jeff thinks it looks like a girl. I have no idea.

The doctor came in later and said that i have a low lying placenta and that he doesn't know if that's the cause but if could be. Thanks for the help, bud. We have more first hand experience then this ER doctor so i just will pass the info on to UCSF. The bleeding has slowed but hasn't stopped.

But we walked in worried that we are miscarrying (for the second time this pregnancy) and walked out knowing that no matter what happens we had this beautiful moment that made our heart swell up with love and joy and those are the moments worth living for no matter what happens. I will never ever forget it. We love Truman's sibling, our sweet little rainbow. stay with us little one, please please please, stay with us.

what is it that i really want to say?

I want to speak up to my friends here. I just can't keep quiet any longer.
I am pregnant with baby #2. I am 11 weeks.

Valentine's Day is coming and i've decided that it will be the day that i will announce this baby.
What better day then the national holiday of celebrating love? and this is love at it's finest.

My children.
Still getting use to that.
"My two children."

I've been trying to figure out what it is that i actually want to say to the public of people who don't already know.

How can i possibly explain to them that this is both one of the best things that has ever happened to us but doesn't mean it's our happy ending? because we won't ever have a happy ending if Truman isn't with us no matter how much better things get.
That we are overwhelmed with gratitude and hope but still living with "little c" antibody and pre-eclampsia and prematurity threats?
How do i politely say that i want them to understand where we are coming from even though half of the time i don't even know where i am coming from? half of the time i am bitter as hell that so many of these people are completely and utterly clueless about how complex and far reaching a loss like this is?
How do i tell people who are willing good news from me that we have another obstacle to overcome that ups my chances of miscarriage, stillbirth and neonatal death without them perceiving me as pathetically hexed?
It's not that i really even care what they think but all of this is sort of ridiculous, i know that, i'm living it. It's fucked up.
How do i get them to understand that there is no amount of organic food or holistic healing and pH balancing or yoga poses that can change my outcomes? How can i make them understand that this isn't on me, that i shouldn't be blamed.
I illogically feel like maybe i am to blame.
maybe i was a horrible person in a past life. maybe i was a horrible person in this one.

What i am truly surprised about is the amount of guilt that this pregnancy has brought up in me. I feel racked with guilt 98% of the time.
and i'm just trying to make sense of this all and find a way of living with it.
because i'm not sure how its going to possibly go away.

I am lucky to have experienced many rainbow babies enter the world through this community and i have watched you all and read along and observed how you have handled it... of course all similar yet all very different in many ways. Either way it's helpful for my level of hope.
I've continued to blog through out this, just never posting my posts... i'll go back now and post them so you guys are in the loop. It's bee hard keeping this quiet when you are a support system to me.

Maybe I'll say something like this? (working this out as i type)

"Truman paved the way. He showed us what heart swelling, ground shaking, ear ringing, gut wrenching love really feels like... the love a parent has for their child. The purest form. We hold him in our heart and miss him every second of everyday.

Today we want to announce that Truman's sibling is on their way. I hold this little one in my body hoping with every inch of me that this works out.

We are grateful to be able to share this news with you but the worry is not over yet. Things have developed along the way... unfortunately things way out of our control, yet again.
Our road has been a long one and even though i tried to prepare in every way possible and even had a false diagnosis of anti-phospholipid syndrome and got the go ahead from the medical team to try to conceive, things have happened.
When i was in surgery with Truman, i lost a lot of blood and needed a transfusion in order to survive.
Out of all the blood that i could have received- my blood donor had an antibody in their blood called the "little c" antibody.
From what i understand this is not a common occurrence at all.
Out of all of the antibodies that we could have got "little c" is the possibly very aggressive one that attacks the baby's blood cells until the baby goes into heart failure if titer levels reach a certain point. I have no control whatsoever on the rise of these antibodies.
We found out at 8 weeks along in this pregnancy. Some of you may remember me asking for positive vibes then.... we will continue to need them.
We needed Jeff's antigens in his blood to test negative for this to not be a big deal.... it tested positive. Not the best news but luckily for now my titer levels are low and we want them to stay low(....forever because this will effect all pregnancies that i have from here on out.)
My blood will be tested every few weeks to monitor if the levels rise. This is very stressful. Not because we are worry-warts but because we merely want an alive and healthy child.
Every week is a gift. If things get worse they will start to do intrauterine blood transfusions to try to keep the baby alive.... to me, it sounds like an absolute nightmare/ horror story but i will do anything for this child. Obviously, these measures that will possibly help the baby also involve risk that could end up killing it.
No matter the titer results, this will always be a concern for us in this pregnancy and any other pregnancy... this will never go away and be nothing to worry about.
and we are sad that we had to let go of the thought of having an easier pregnancy then what we had with Truman.
It's just flat out bad luck.
I just want to point out that sometimes people have bad things happen to them and it doesn't make them a leech upon society or not a hard worker or a victim or someone who deserves bad things because they made bad decisions.... it's just life. and ANYONE is susceptible to these unfortunate things, no one is immune. Whether we deserve it or not, this is happening to us. No matter what people think about us and how we handle these stressors, we are the ones living with it and fighting, every single day since July 24, 2011 when my pre-eclampsia started with Truman.

This threat of the little c antibody along with the threat of pre-eclampsia, placental abruption, IUGR and pre-maturity returning means that we are not even close to out of the woods yet... we are taking this step by step and hoping for the best. Taking it moment by moment and dealing with the different feelings as they bubble up. Pregnancy after the loss of a child isn't easy no matter who you are and no matter what you are facing.

I am and have been in constant contact with the specialists at UCSF, the perinatologists that helped us with Truman, and they assured me that they have dealt with issues like mine in the past. I believe at this point i will need to move down to San Fran to be closer to them. The financial and emotional stressors are worth it if we get a healthy and happy baby out of it.

We are thankful for this child every single day that it is with us whether it's for one more day or the next 60 years. We are thankful for Barack Obama who made this child even an option. We are thankful for those of you who voted for Obama and support Pre-existing Condition Insurance Plans- Obamacare. We are thankful to our friends and family who continue to walk this path with us no matter how happy, sad or complex it is.

I wish that this announcement was a typical one that didn't need a 5 page explanation but things are no longer like that in our world. The innocence of getting pregnant and thinking "everything will be fine if i do everything by the book because that's just the way the world works," is completely gone.... but our hope and gratitude isn't and i hope that means something. While we very much appreciate any well wishes and congratulations i do not want to hear "I know everything will work out just fine."
I heard it when i was sick with Truman and the facts are, no one knows how this will work out and I'd rather not pretend to know. We will deal with reality as it unfolds.
We have an added player in the mix with this antibody. Another odd to fight.... so unless you are a Perinatologist, I'd rather not hear what other people think is going to happen versus what is really happening. But we lovingly appreciate any positive vibes, prayers, or well wishes.
Right now things appear to be good and so we will hold on to that - the present moment. We are cautiously optimistic.

This child in no way replaces Truman. This is Truman's sibling, our second child, my second pregnancy. In the child-loss world, any child after the loss of a child is a called a "rainbow baby". The rainbow doesn't mean that the joys of having Truman and the pain/storm of losing him never happened or is "over" in any way. Our rainbow is joyous and hopeful light that we hope stays with us for a lifetime. I want people to understand completely that these are two different human beings and one does not negate the other.

We love Truman and this baby to the end of time, no matter the outcome.
:) and that's what life is all about- Family, Tru love, pursuing your dreams,  and taking risks so that maybe just maybe your dreams can come true."


.......Way too long winded. even baby announcements are complex/complicated!

How about: "I'm pregnant. more shitty stuff happened. you don't get it at all because you don't have a dead child and a body that is back stabbing bitch." ?

I'm having a really hard day, emotionally.
I fell sorry for myself which then annoys myself because i know in certain aspects of my life i am VERY lucky.
I was lucky enough to be put for adoption and get my Dad as my Dad.
I am lucky enough to have amazing friends.
I am lucky enough to have a loving and supportive husband who is really truly good for every inch of my soul.

but this baby shit is depressing.

I just feel the weight of it all today.
The looming blood test in 2 weeks.
2 weeks is such a long time.
the fear of the baby not having a heartbeat by the next ultrasound.
and i just feel like i spent every single day since Truman died- fighting.... fighting to survive, fighting to lose weight and get stronger.... fighting for the election... fighting to find a compitent doctor....just constantly fighting for something.
and i am tired.
Part of me goes to a really dark place of "if this doesn't work out, i'm not sure i'll survive it." and i know it's a lie.
but it's just how i feel right now.
i have survived a lot and i will get through but it's more or less the feeling of.... i don't want my life to just continue to suck majorly in a lot of ways for the rest of my life.
and i just don't know how i'm going to make that happen if this baby doesn't live....
i just find it to be really depressing because all i ever wanted was a big family.
of my own, my own flesh and blood, that i built.

i just feel like a failure.
and i'm mad that the world just keeps marching on. That time does not stop no matter what.
Today at work i watched the people around me buzzing around.
and that's when it really got to me.
They aren't at home with their kids.
They are at work, staying late so that they can get stuff done.
which i get, we live i this kind of world here in America.
but to me, a baby loss parent.... it's like go the fuck home and be with your kids. PLEASE. because if they were to die you would never forgive yourself for thinking this bullshit is that important.
this is just stuff... shit made in china and tedious paper work.... that WILL get done.
It will.
It always does.
If you aren't working in a hospital and you aren't literally saving lives then your job is only as important as you make it.
and so many people make theirs SO overly important.

Here is am stopping at every movement this baby makes and thanking it for being there. Willing my body to let it live a full life. If Truman was alive, everything would be different.

The momma who writes "The Progressive Parent" lost her son today. SIDS they believe.
Send her some love. We have such a community of support here, it'd be lovely to reach out to her during such a dark time for her.

http://www.theprogressiveparent.org/

I've heard that you show sooner and more with second pregnancies.
Well, I'm 9 weeks and people at work are already pointing at my bulging baby bump and asking questions.

----

Jeff and I, our child-less selves, went out to grab a bite yesterday.
The waitress randomly told us that when she went back to grab the menus for us that she almost grabbed a kids menu too.
I saw Truman's toddler ghost sitting in the invisible highchair next to me. It flashed through my mind that maybe in another dimension he is sitting here with us.
and maybe on some level the waitress saw it too which is why she chose to say something. who knows.
but i told her that i am pregnant now so she must have a sixth sense about these things and she seemed to like that.

the Big Little c.

Today i got a call from my nurse telling me that my prenatal panel came back with a positive antibody.
Sound familiar? lol
like wtf, right?
Well, turns out, now my body is producing little "c" antibodies. Whatever that even means.
I just can't even believe the back and forth up and downs of all of this.
I can't even read about what any of this even means becasue it all sounds like it was plucked from a horror movie.
Here's the kicker..... my doctor thinks that i got the antibody from my blood transfusion that saved my life when i had Truman. What luck. What are the odds? and what are the odds that as rare as this antibody is, some of the women on line talk about in corelation with pre-eclampsia.
They will be testing Jeff too just incase he is a carrier.

The risks that this antibody brings to the table along with my pre-eclampsia risks... well.... they knocked me off my feet today.

I was SO hoping for a non-eventful and smooth pregnancy. and today i feel like i lost that. I know now that my body is attacking this baby and trying to kill it like it tried to kill Truman. and i am confused on if this is in the same way or a different way or in an accelerated way that this is occuring.
I really don't know much right now.
For being a science-brain, this antibody stuff isn't the most intuituve stuff to figure out.
I'm waiting to hear back from my beloved peri at UCSF and i have an appt next week on the 31st.
So no answers until i hear back.

I am in the bargining stage.
I hope that it was human error. Or someone read the reports wrong, again.
I have never yearned so much for a misdiagnosis.

When i'm pregnant, i am not the emotional type. I become very calm and stoic. In general, i'm not a crier but even less so when pregnant.
I cried today.
I cried becasue i lost a little bit of the hope and innocence that i was so desperately clutching on to that there was even a slight possiblity that this would be an easier pregnancy then i had with Truman.
and i cried for this baby.
not only has it had less celebration and excitement.... it seems to be acquiring more and more odds against it. and it's just heartbreaking.
I feel so bad for it.
I don't want it to suffer like it's brother did.

threatened miscarriage

I have been bleeding for about a week.
Spotting mostly but last night it accelerated to bright red.
Jeff has been a nervous wreck.

Part of me worried.... obviously when i first saw the blood especially.
but truly most of me just sat back and said to myself "okay then this is how its gonna be.... then fine, whatever else it's going to be, whatever. I can handle anything. Jeff and i together can handle anything."

In a way this "threatened miscarriage" has my doctor s calling it, has empowered me.

We are all at the whim of our cells to behave so that we can be ourselves for a while.

I want this baby to live.
But i wanted Truman to live too and wanting and pleading and praying and begging got me no where.
I fully understand that whatever happens- will. and it will be scary no matter what and to what degree it will hurt will depend on how things pan out.

Some of the people that know that i am pregnant are expecting me to be alot more high strung, emotional and freaked out than i am. I can sense it by what they say and how they say it. but i don't know how to break it to them that really, i have this covered.
Because i know more then anyone how little control i have.
I know what the worst possible sceanario is.
and i am want it more then i am fearful of it.
my pregnancies will never be normal. the innocence is gone.

at times i feel like i have even blocked true frear from entering my mind.... maybe i am protecting myself on some level. But there is a TON of acceptance with this pregnancy.
What will be, will be.
I will do everything that i can do for this child.
and i will continue to evaluate how to take each step for this child.
My instincts are telling me that for right now, this child is fine.

Tomorrow is our first ultra sound.
I hope to see a heartbeat and some reassuring news.