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/