Reffing Again...Ready or Not

Last night I reffed again for the first time since I lost the baby. It had been 9 days.

I was nervous and worried because fans, players and coaches don't usually treat referees as people. They say horrible mean things and criticize and critique. I feel certain the majority of them wouldn't talk like that to another person they met on the street. Let alone, someone that is working really hard to do a good job and has spent countless hours trying to become an expert in their field. Unfortunately this is basketball culture.The refs are the bad guys.

So, I thought about things I could do to curb the mean people. I thought about how I would handle coaches and fan. I wondered which teams I would get. At the facility that we work at, we see the same teams over and over. Even though I didn't feel like it I got ready and went.

My first partner was a young fireman named Dan. He's super cute. And he's a great ref. I had done both of the teams before. One of the coaches is a class act and never says anything. She concentrates on coaching her kids and lets the calls stand. They other guy is a read d. bag. He has a big chip on his shoulder. He struts around like a little rooster. Last time I did a game for him I should have thrown him from the gym but I didn't. So when I saw that team, I was like, CRAP. But as a blessing to me that night, he never said a word to me. I do have to say, we called a great game. That helps. And out of my 4 games, only one coach said anything to me. He asked me to help my partner out. I was reffing with my husband at the time. I quickly shut the coach down. I needed the encounter to be short because I didn't know how I would handle the conflice emotionally. It just wouldn't do for me to cry. And he didn't say another word and even came up to us afterwards and said good job. 

It felt really good to get back to normal. It was nice to do something that I really enjoy. It was great to get my body moving. I could sprint with the kids again on the fast breaks. That was nice. Because I didn't like how slow I was when I was pregnant. And when I think something like that I think that maybe that discounts that little baby that we tried to have. But then I remember that this is the new reality. Things will be easier but that doesn't necessarily make those things bad. 

I have made a lot of friends with the other officials. Male officials. I had to tell most of my partners because I got really slow and chubby and if I had to leave the court to throw up I wanted them to know why. I'm not sure how quickly word spread that I had a miscarriage. But I didn't say anything. In my area, out of 160 officials, there are like 6 women. We are in a man's world. And this doesn't bother me because I was raised by a would-be chauvinist. I know my dad had those leanings but after raising 5 daughters I think we knocked it out him. So I can hold my own with these men but I definitely didn't want to talk about losing my little baby. And it wasn't brought up so I could almost pretend like everything was great. 

The girl that runs the facility is visibly pregnant. I'm happy for her. She cradled her little tummy with both hands as she stood in front of me and honestly, I was happy for her. Trav said he notices all the pregnant ladies now. And it's true. While we are not envious because we only wanted our baby.  But we do seem to notice all the pregnant ladies and all the new babies. Trav said its probably like when you get a new car and then you notice everyone else that drives that one too. 

I feel like its disingenuous to that little soul that we don't get to raise that it is so easy to just move on. But then I think that the greatest thing I can do for any of my children is to live a full life and be happy. We don't write stories and tell tales of people that just laid in their beds and cried or were bitter and angry. We revere people that had courage. That did things that they seemingly shouldn't have been able to do. And even though it may only be me that can understand how much effort it takes to keep moving, that's enough.

Then there is a still higher type of courage - the courage to brave pain, to live with it, to never let others know of it and to still find joy in life; to wake up in the morning with an enthusiasm for the day ahead.

Howard Cosell

My Husband

I love this man!
This evening I asked Trav if I have gained weight since I lost the baby. He said yes. He gets me. He knows that I really want to know.
He has been amazing to me through this time. He took care of me while I was so sick with the pregnancy. And never complained. He is grieving too. And he forgives me when I like to pretend that this is all about me.
He said something years ago that has stayed with me. He said its important to know who will go into battle with him. I'm in. (Here is the place for Trav's favorite story about me that he tells to Elders Quorum about me defending him at a church basketball game with a baby on my hip.)
He is all the things that I wish I could be. He is kind, giving, fiercely loyal, non judgmental, carefree and hysterically funny. His physical stature is not something he can control but I love his size. Its dominating like in the Princess Bride when Fezzick yells Everybody move and the crowds clear.
He is my best friend and has grown accustomed to my constant yammering about this and that and still listens with at least one ear.
He is so proud of my accomplishments. He is interested when I talk incessantly about reffing (the first real hobby I have had since I became a mom).
I am so thankful that he was intrigued when I basically asked him to marry me. I am so grateful that he has stuck with me all these 17 years. I can see that putting in the time has allowed us to be happier together than I could ever imagine.
Sidenote: I realized looking at this picture that we were at this BYU football game the day after we found out about our 5th miscarriage at 12 weeks. Our boys really wanted to go. It was a "black out". I passed the miscarriage 5 days later and ended up in the hospital with a blood transfusion. Life goes on.

Basketball Again

I decided that I needed to quit moping around the house and get back to the land of the living. Physically, I feel fine. In fact, I'm still in really good shape. I haven't played basketball with the ladies since last fall. Though I have watched a ton of basketball it doesn't quite translate to being able to play.
A few of the gals knew that I had lost the baby last week but there were some new girls and other girls that knew I was pregnant. So I got some congratulations and then felt like Cruella De Ville when I had to say that I lost the baby last week.
But it was nice to use my body again. I am sort of mad at my body for not being able to carry a baby and then not making the baby right when we had the chance.. But I will have to learn to love it again because its what I've got. It was fun to play the sport that I enjoy. I had a hard time posting up and fighting for rebounds because my competitive edge isn't really there. (Don't worry. It'll be back.) But I had a good time running up and down and shooting the ball from the outside.
After an hour or so I felt the overwhelming urge to cry. I guess I was tired. I realize that emotionally I am still fragile but this was weird so I had to step off the court. Go in the bathroom. Cry a little and then wait for my friend that I was taking home (I had begged her to come with me tonight. I guess I needed her support.)
I am still amazed at how quickly life returns to normal and that, soon, that little baby that my body tried so hard to create wont be missed by anyone but me.

A miscarriage is a natural and common event. All told, probably more women have lost a child from this world than haven't. Most don't mention it, and they go on from day to day as if it hadn't happened, so people imagine a woman in this situation never really knew or loved what she had. But ask her sometime: how old would your child be now? And she'll know.- Barbara Kingsolver

Envy

Maybe it's because I had 4 trouble free pregnancies in a row, maybe its because I am the most miserable pregnant woman ever, or maybe because my babies never slept and always had ear infections that I don't envy pregnant women and new mothers.
A sweet friend, who birthed a stillborn baby of her own almost 2 years ago, texted me to check in. She is pregnant with a healthy baby after all this time. She wanted to make sure that I would not be mad at her because her baby is doing well. My reply: Never. I don't want your baby.I want mine and Trav's baby.
And its true. That's what I'm grieving for, the loss of OUR baby.
Trav's friend had her little baby on the same day that we lost ours. And I'm glad because something good should have happened on that day. I hope that every pregnant woman and new mom gets a chance to feel the same magic that I did when I was having my babies.

My Crazy, Little Family

Trav keeps reminding me that our little family is pretty great as it is. And that it will be enough work to raise these kids as they deserve. I quite agree.
(The little guys that are blurred out were the sweet foster sons we had last summer. Its infringes on parental rights to show their cute little faces. We miss them tons.)

Little Things

I guess this is how grief goes. Today I woke up feeling like a had a good handle on things. I can tell that my family and the rest of the world is moving on. Everyone else is ready to get back to normal. I can't help feeling to myself that everyone has forgotten that I just lost a baby. But I really am doing well. I can sleep again. I am really enjoying my kids and doing my work around the house
But then I was planning out my day tomorrow. I realized I would be next to Winco having a long overdue lunch with my friend and I should go stock up on my grains and flours. I haven't done that for a long time. Then I realized that I can pack and carry all those heavy 25 and 50 pound bags. It will be no problem for me. That's why I haven't gone to Winco for so long. I was worried about lifting heavy things and hurting the baby.  And then the tears hit. And then I turned them off quickly because life goes on.

Blessings

Since my previous miscarriage in October of 2012 I have embraced the song Blessings by Mercy River.
When they took away the little body of our would-be baby and we were left in the hospital room by ourselves I needed to find some comfort. I found this song on the tablet and just laid in the bed and wept while it played.

Lyrics to Blessings :

We pray for blessings, we pray for peace
Comfort for family, protection while we sleep
We pray for healing, for prosperity
We pray for Your mighty hand to ease our suffering
All the while, You hear each spoken need
Yet love us way too much to give us lesser things

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops?
What if Your healing comes through tears
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near?
What if trials of this life
Are Your mercies in disguise?

We pray for wisdom, Your voice to hear
We cry in anger when we cannot feel You near
We doubt Your goodness, we doubt Your love
As if every promise from Your Word is not enough
And all the while You hear each desperate plea
And long that we’d have faith to believe

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears?
What if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near?
And what if trials of this life
Are Your mercies in disguise

When friends betray us, when darkness seems to win
We know the pain reminds this heart
That this is not, this is not our home
It’s not our home

Cause what if Your blessings come through raindrops
What if Your healing comes through tears?
And what if a thousand sleepless nights
Are what it takes to know You’re near?

What if my greatest disappointments
Or the aching of this life
Is the revealing of a greater thirst
This world can’t satisfy?

And what if trials of this life
The rain, the storms, the hardest nights
Are Your mercies in disguise?

Finding Peace...Finally

For most of last week I was pretty angry. I felt abandoned. My sense of justice was outraged. As an optimist, it was really hard to wrap my head around the fact that the outcome most likely will not be a happy ending. That is very hard for me to accept. And alot of people talk about the rewards we will receive in the next life. I know I am being really bratty when I think I don't care about what's next. I want some reward here. Why does it have to be so hard?
I found this quote last week and I wasn't really ready to hear the message it sent but it stayed with me.
I don't like to be angry. It's a heavy load to carry around. So I decided that whether I wanted to or not I needed to get to the temple. I knew that if I could find peace I had the best chance there.
When I was really sick with the my ear inner troubles we had just bought our first house that bordered the temple grounds in Lake Oswego. I remember that in the middle of the night when my 2 little babies were sleeping I would feel despair creeping in. How will I take care of these kids? Will I ever get better? Will I get worse? How can this be happening? I would look out the window in my kitchen and I could see the temple spire, glowing bright in the dark night and I would feel a physical calmness.
We went to the temple Friday night. When I sat down in the celestial room I was still wondering if I would find the peace I was searching for. And as I sat in this armchair, this overwhelming sense of love came over me. And I was reminded again of my own father. He would watch as I suffered with the overpowering vertigo, feeling helpless. And he said, If I could do this for you, I would. How that has strengthened my testimony of how much my Heavenly Father loves me. And even though it was hard to get through to me, I realized once again that this is something that I have to go through. That it's for my own good. That if it could be taken from me and there was some other way for me to be refined and come to Christ with a broken heart that it would be different. I'm sure that my Heavenly Father and Jesus are sharing in my sorrows. I remember the quote from the New Testament. Jesus wept. He shares our grief. There is so much more to this life than losing a little baby whose body would never sustain life. If I cannot be open to the experience then this will all be for naught.
So the feeling that I was abandoned by my Heavenly Father was lifted and I knew that I was loved. And that brought peace but I still had the helpless wondering of what is all this for?
I have always been a huge Captain Moroni fan. I have always loved his courage and his absolute dedication to his cause. I love the image of him waving his banner and giving his people something to fight for. I feel like this experience has allowed my to wave my banner. I hope that my daughter and my sons and my grandchildren to come with always know that I have faith in Christ. That I will be obedient. That I will bend my will to the Lord's, regardless of the consequences. I did know that losing the baby was the likely ending. Oh, I did hope it was otherwise. I hoped that if I did lose it, that it would be early. Because truly the sight of the little body haunts me and I can't bear to open the little box containing the hand and feet molds and the little blanket that someone hand made that is now bloodstained. But I did it anyways. And I would do it again. And when I told Travis about how I hoped that my children would be strengthened in the gospel and that I hope that now they would always know what our testimony is and where we stand. He said if that's the case and it makes their journey easier he would do it 100 times over.
On our way to the deliver the baby Travis said I wonder if this is an Ephraim Hanks moment. I have loved Ephraim Hanks' story since I read it years ago. I has stuck with me. When he said I will go. That has affected me. Trav said maybe this is like when Brigham Young asked him to shave his beard just to see if he would be obedient.
Abraham took Isaac, who went willingly to be sacrificed. He fully intended to kill his son. He was saved from this act in the final seconds but his determination was real. And while me losing this 6th pregnancy really cannot compare to Abraham's willingness to sacrifice I can only hope that somehow this experience will buoy my children. That they can see that their parents are willing to do what small act of obedience that we can if it means that we are bending to the Lord's will and coming forward with a broken heart and a contrite spirit. Oh, how I wish that I were meek and mild, how I wish that it weren't so hard for my heart to be broken. I wonder if I would have learned how to bend earlier if I would have had to go through these experiences but I cannot go back. I can only move forward.



I often think about what a warrior my own father is. I get physical pain in my body when I think of losing him to the 6 year battle with cancer that he has been fighting. The fortitude of spirit that he possesses to me is unmatched. That he was able overcome the severe abuse and the horrors of his childhood to me is miraculous. He was a wonderful, loving, devoted father who worked physically, daily for his family. He became this way on his own because I am sure that he never modeled his father's behavior. My dad was everything that a father could be to his children. He was a hero. I feel certain that in the counsels of heaven before we came down to Earth that my father stepped up and said he would come before my siblings and I and he would make our pathway easier. Isn't that what every parent wants for their children? I don't know if he had any doubts but I feel sure that I didn't doubt that he could do it. I hope that my struggles and sorrows will make the pathway easier for my children. I hope that they won't ever doubt my testimony and my faith.

This story from Elder Bednar has stuck with me about not shrinking.

"Earlier in that same year, Elder Maxwell underwent 46 days and nights of debilitating chemotherapy for leukemia. Shortly after completing his treatments and being released from the hospital, he spoke briefly in the April general conference of the Church. His rehabilitation and continued therapy progressed positively through the spring and summer months, but Elder Maxwell’s physical strength and stamina were nonetheless limited when he traveled to Rexburg. After greeting Elder and Sister Maxwell at the airport, Susan and I drove them to our home for rest and a light lunch before the devotional.During the course of our conversations that day, I asked Elder Maxwell what lessons he had learned through his illness. I will remember always the precise and penetrating answer he gave. “Dave,” he said, “I have learned that not shrinking is more important than surviving.”His response to my inquiry was a principle with which he had gained extensive personal experience during his chemotherapy. As Elder Maxwell and his wife were driving to the hospital in January of 1997, on the day he was scheduled to begin his first round of treatment, they pulled into the parking lot and paused for a private moment together. Elder Maxwell “breathed a deep sigh and looked at [his wife]. He reached for her hand and said … , ‘I just don’t want to shrink’”

I wanted to express what had brought me peace to my daughter and we had a little chat Saturday night. I explained to her what I thought we could learn from all of these miscarriages. I explained that I never want her to doubt that I will do whatever I can in my own little world to show my faith in Christ. Like Ephraim Hanks that I will be ready to say I will go. That I don't want to shrink. And she asked if you received revelation again that you were supposed to try again to have a baby, would you? I can answer honestly, quickly and definitively, yes.

Trav's T

This is the t shirt my husband was wearing when we went in Monday for our doctors appointment. He changed it when we came home to take the kids to Grandmas. He never said anything. Just changed it. Maybe he thought it was irreverent to wear when his wife was delivering a dead baby. The shirt's funny because he pretends like he's in charge but we all know better.
 I didn't even think about it until I was watching my sons basketball game today, going over that day again. I asked him why he changed  his shirt. He said it was "weird". I bought him that shirt.

Sharing

I know it seems weird to share an experience so personal. I started writing the blog to get rid of some of the nervous energy and dread that I was feeling. It seemed to help to put words to emotions and recognition is always good, right?
I am hoping that by sending my feelings out into the atmosphere maybe they will dissipate and go away. Because even talking to Travis I can never really express what I am feeling. Its too raw and feel like such a brat for acting like the world is ending. I know tons of people that have struggles that are way worse than what I've gone through. I still get to be here. I live in a nice house in a nice neighborhood and drive a nice van. I can still fit in my designer jeans that I bought at the DI. I still have my husband and our 4 kids. And Trav still loves me, go figure. My dad is kicking cancer's butt. We still have our dog after over 11 years, she's almost totally deaf, but she's here.
So, I'm hoping selfishly that if you read this that you can share some of the burden with me because truly, I am sick of feeling sad. It's just not me.

Decisions. Decisions.

This post is personal and I usually don't talk about stuff like this but something positive or useful or educational needs to come of this.
After I had my 5th miscarriage in just over a year and ended up needed a blood transfusion we decided to end the craziness. I got an IUD. Over the summer we had 2 sweet foster boys so it was a super fun, busy summer with 6 kids. It was great.
While I was in Oregon for the wedding of my niece I was attending the temple. We had gone through the session and I was getting dressed. Now I had been pondering the idea of trying to have another kid for a couple of months but the idea was so insane that I never voiced it to Travis. But there in the dressing room I heard the words in my head. You need to try for another one. That's what I heard. And I knew it meant I should try to get pregnant again. That's easy for me. It's hard not to get pregnant with Trav around. I also understood quite clearly that it meant no guarantees. I didn't hear you need to have another baby. I heard something similar to that when it was time to have Steel. But this time it was you need to try. I felt very strongly that I was being asked to try. I knew that actually getting a baby from it was an uncertainty.
So, I talked to Travis and he was on board for trying. But we both said once more, that's it. I got pregnant within 2 months of having the IUD out. And you know the rest.
I am still trying to reconcile myself with what is supposed to come of all of this. I still wonder why I couldn't keep any of the babies that I have lost. And I know that some people will say that I will get to raise them in the next life but I don't know if that's true.
When I am doubting myself and my choices and my bossiness it is nice to have the assurance that this is something I was supposed to do and go through. I don't doubt that voice I heard in the temple telling me to try.  And some day I would like to know why. Because I'm kind of mad. But I would do it again.

The Baby Died.

At around 16 weeks I started to feel pretty good. Then I got the flu and a cold and felt awful again for a week and then I miraculously felt great. This was a bad sign. But I was 17 weeks. I convinced myself that it was time to start feeling better and that this was just normal. I had been down, really down with the morning sickness for so long that it felt so good to be up and taking care of my family again. I could run up and down the court. I even did a double header with lots of energy.
There were times when I had my phone all ready to call the doctor and get seen again and I couldn't do it. I couldn't bear the bad news. And, selfishly, I wanted to finish the basketball season. I had worked really hard and I had won an award. My name was getting out. People were watching me and talking about me. I knew that if the baby had died, I would have to deliver and then I would most likely be done for the season. I still don't know how I will ref in the coming months when fans are so mean. It won't look great for an official to break down in tears because someone doesn't like my calls.
So, I put it off. But I thought about it every second. There wasn't a time that I was sure the baby was still there. My husband is an optimist. He didn't love it when I asked him multiple times a day, do you think the baby is still alive? He never saw this coming. We had names picked out for the baby. Taggert Whyte if it was a boy. Whyte is for my husband's grandpa. Greta Claire if it was a girl. Greta after my great friend who basically saved my life by serving me when we lived in Oregon. And Claire after my grandmother whom I never met but who I felt very strongly helping me through the last miscarriage when I had to have a blood transfusion. She had lost babies too.
I would lay in my bed with my hands on my stomach pleading with the baby to move so I could feel it and be sure. But, obviously that never happened. But I have never felt my babies move early. I am quite large and I hoped it was because had space. I talked to the baby and told it that we loved it and wanted it so badly. I would beg my Heavenly Father to allow this baby to come. That we would love it and take such good care of it.
So we went about our regular business. I started grocery shopping. I started organizing my closets and getting ready for our home inspection for our foster care license. I even started cooking again. I had a regular appointment scheduled and I waited.
My appointment happened to be on Presidents Day. Trav had the day of so he could come. That made me so happy because I knew I would have a hard time being alone with bad news. It gave me strength to have him by my side. So we went to our appointment at 10. We had to wait 20 minutes because the doctor had deliveries. Trav saw an old co worker and they talked. Trav told him this was our 5th. So proud. So not ready. I couldn't help the feelings of dread. But in this pregnancy I was nervous so much and it was fine so I tried to be hopeful.
I told the nurse that I was nervous. I told the doctor. He said I know about your history and its fine. Everything is fine. But he couldn't find the heartbeat with the doppler. I knew it was a bad sign because always they find the baby's heartbeat first. Then with the handheld ultrasound he said he couldn't see anything. I think he lied to me. Because then he started to try to distract me. He asked where I was from. He's from Oregon too. He started chatting about this guy we both knew from there. But I just wanted to know for sure. Even when they took us to the room to do the big ultrasound, Trav says he still wasn't worried. He was playing on his phone and carefree. When the baby came on the screen, it was so obvious that it was dead. I waited about 5 seconds and then asked, No heartbeat, right? He said no in a really soft voice. He was very sympathetic. But I can't stand sympathy. That's no what I wanted. I wanted to run away. To bawl my face off where no one could see. But he had to find out when it died. How big it was. Then we had to chat about when I wanted to deliver it. I wanted to do it at home but the risk of bleeding goes up by like 40%. That's what he said anyway. Given my past history we couldn't risk it. We had to do it at the hospital.
We never had enough money. I can't remember the last time that Trav's regular paycheck paid our bills. I have to ref to buy groceries or we wait for a bonus check or a tax return. Well, this year, Trav is finally earning enough money that we don't qualify for alot the tax credits so our tax return is very small. We usually live off of it for the year. Use it to make up the difference. Well, this year it won't happen. I was willing to sacrifice even more for our baby. But I sure didn't want to have to make my family sacrifice for a dead baby. But now we have a hospital bill to pay for and no baby. Talk about insult to injury. I guess I came through it healthy and feeling physically fine but it seems like alot. We had already had to pay hundreds for the extra first trimester monitoring. I am getting lost in the finances. Transference, right? Talking about things that don't matter to distract from the things that do....
I had to call my mother-in-law and ask if she could take the kids. I didn't want to do this because she is already attached to our little babies and wants them as bad as we do. I can still hear her crying in my mind when I told her and I feel so bad. I willingly got pregnant again know that this was the likely outcome. I feel very mean for causing grief to others. My husband mostly. We came home and told the boys and they seemed fine. When I asked my almost 5 year what he thought. He said I'm hungry. I worried about him because his mantra was I'm so excited for the baby. He was so protective of my tummy and took such good care of me. My 8 year old who is actually pretty sensitive was pretty bratty because he couldn't play with his friend. I think this was an outlet for him because he wasn't quite sure how to express what he was feeling. And my 11 year was stoic. That's what he does. Trav was devastated. He is so big and strong. He takes things in stride and to see him like this was really hard. I just didn't have it in me to try to console him when I felt like I had caused the whole thing.
So we dropped the boys off. My 14 year old daughter was working so we couldn't tell her in person which was probably fine because I knew she would take it really hard. She really wanted a sister. We were both really convinced it was a girl. The morning sickness I thought had to be because it was a girl but instead it was a symptom of chromosome problems in the baby. Who knew? The doctors and nurses always smiled and said nausea is a good sign in pregnancy.
Then we checked into the hospital to wait. They acted as if I was having a real baby. An IV, a monitor. For what? I asked. We don't have to worry. For the first time, I could use drugs if I wanted. We don't need to worry about the baby. It's already dead. The nurse was sort of taken aback when I said that. But both of my nurses where very kind. They were great to both of us. Trav never left my side the whole time. I think it was because he knew I needed him and because he was worried if he left and missed anything I would hold it against him forever.
We got to the hospital at noon. They got the medication started at 1:30. I expected to be home by afternoon. The last time I had used this medication I had passed everything in 3 hours. I was expecting this same result. I guess since I was further along they can't use the same amount of medication because it can blow out the side of the uterus instead of dilating the cervix. It can result in a hysterectomy. That sounded fine to me. Then we would finally have an answer. The doctor didn't like this. He really wanted me to know that I had a great possibility of having a healthy baby. I laughed at him. He backed this up with a stat 1 in 120 pregnancies has chromosome problems at our age. I laughed again. I am always in the small percentage. That's big odds for us. It's something like less than 1% of women that have recurrent miscarriages. 50% of those can never find a cause. Well, we found one this time. I was like so I'm having a dead baby because I'm old so when I'm older I'll have a better chance. I don't think so. The doctor really was kind and great. He felt so bad for us. He was on the verge of tears more than once. Which didn't help me because I don't like to cry in front of anyone. I held it together pretty well. I had a breakdown at around 8:30. I had another dose of medicine but still nothing was happening. I told Trav, I guess my body doesn't want to lose the baby either.
Trav's old boss and friend texted him to say how sorry he was and to take all the time he needed. I just couldn't stand any more sympathy and it threw me over the edge. I had to tell Travis how sorry I was for killing this baby and all the other ones. I was selfish to keep reffing, maybe that killed it. Maybe it was the milk duds that I ate. All that corn syrup killed the baby from mercury poisoning. Maybe it was all the gluten that I ate, I ate lots of bagels and sandwiches, they didn't hurt my stomach. I told him that he should find a young girl that could give him babies. I just cried and cried and cried. I wanted the baby so bad. It was MINE. I was just so mad that this baby got taken from me too. I was a brat I said. Why do I have to charge ahead in everything? Why do I always have to have my own way? Why can't I be meek and gentle? Trav actually laughed because that's so not me. I told him that I killed it because I was so negative but I really did want it. Maybe Heavenly Father took the baby because I was mad that I was so sick. Did I say it wasn't worth it? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. He held me and let me vent and cry and be mad and sad. He didn't try to get me to stop. But after like 20 minutes, which is a doozy for me, I heard this voice plainly in my head say, Pull it together. Who it was, I can't say. Maybe my grandmother Claire? I don't know. But I listened. I stopped. Told Trav not to look at me and went to the bathroom to throw up and then clean up. I didn't want to like I had a breakdown when the nurse came back in to check on me.
I didn't want to get back in the stupid bed so I sat on the couch and watched TV with Trav waiting for something to happen.
Earlier the hospital social worker had come to see me. He remembered me from my last miscarriage. He gave my kids these build a bears called Forever Bear. An eagle scout had donated them to the hospital for siblings of dead babies. He was so nice. He felt so bad that he made me cry and I don't like him anymore. But my kids have loved the bears. They have been so nice for them to love on. What a kind boy and what a great eagle project. Thor may do the very same one.
Around 1 I went to go potty and felt some pressure so I had the nurse check. The contractions at this point were there but I still didn't even need to breathe through them. I hate medication because I have been dizzy too much in this life and I avoid medication that could possibly make me dizzy. I will take horrible pain all day over dizziness. I told the nurse and doctor that emphatically so they never offered it again. The nurse checked and called the doctor. He got all up in my business and had me push a little before he gave me another dose of medicine and went wherever he goes. So the contractions so stronger but still no biggie for maybe 15 minutes and then my water broke. I thought I was having the baby with no one in the room so I freaked Trav out. I didn't want to see the baby. I didn't want to be the one to have to hold it. The nurse came and it was just water. That's the first time my water broke on its own. The contractions stopped. The doctor came right in and delivered the baby. It took maybe 5 little pushes. It didn't look like a baby. The nurse handed it to me. I asked is this what a normal baby looks like and the doctor said no. You could see that the babys neck was what the doctor called "webbed". I didn't like that he used that word because it reminded me of a duck, a farm animal. I was sort of offended that used that word to describe my baby. Because even though it wasn't perfect, I had loved it and wanted it so bad. The nurse put it in a washcloth to let me hold it. We thought it was a girl. The doctor didn't look closely. He was worried about delivering the placenta because that is what makes the bleeding happen is if the placenta doesn't all come out. So he worked down in the nether regions for a while to make sure that my cervix didn't close before it all came out. And they gave me a shot in the thigh. The whole while I was laying in the bed holding my dead deformed little baby. She didn't form well but her little hands and feet were perfect. She had short arms and legs and a big tummy. Her face didn't look great. It was a relief to see this little body because we both knew that there was no way it could have made it. We finally had an answer to why this baby died. So that was nice in a way. When I got to hold the body it was warm. Trav held her. I just didn't want to let her go. We decided to let the hospital dispose of the body. It was tough for me but Trav reminded me that its just a body. I want to be cremated when I die. He reminded me of that. It's just a body. The spirit is already gone. I wish I could have known that spirit. That I could have sensed her somehow so that I can recognize her later.
After an hour I finally let the body go. The body was cold. They had moved her to a little blanket and wrap someone had handmade. The body was sticking to the washcloth.
I wanted to go home. I was done. I knew I couldn't grieve in the hospital. So, I got the all clear and got dressed. They had called this lady named Rachel and she came in the middle of the night to do hand and feet molds. They are the size of my fingernails. She also did hand and footprints and gave me the little blankets that they wrapped the baby in. She put them in a little box. She wanted to show them to me but I couldn't do it. I thanked her and stuffed the box in my bag. She also said the baby was a girl, for sure. I had thought it was a girl so I was glad. I thought the reason I didn't feel like our family was done was because we were supposed to have a girl. I didn't think I would have a dead baby girl I thought I would get to raise a baby girl.
We came home around 4. Our daughter was staying with the 2 older boys so we wanted to get home to them.
It was surreal. We left home going to a regular doctors visit and came home, no baby, not pregnant. Just to a world that had somehow gone gray in a day. There was no more magic in life. Nothing exciting to look forward too. I told Trav we just have to adjust to a new reality. There I am always trying to make everyone move forward. Life goes on, I always say. And even though I mean it and it is my mantra I just wanted the world to stop. Please let me grieve. Let me be sad. Let me just sit here until the hurt goes away. But life really does go on. And I couldn't take care of my family for 3 months because I was so sick and I didn't want to miss any more grieving for a baby that never really was or even never could be.
I don't sleep anymore. I haven't really since that night. That's why I'm still up at 5 in the morning. So I finally had to stop talking that morning to let Trav sleep. I finally drifted off to wake up around 9. Trav was up with our littlest. My daughter had been up early. She had done the dishes. She had gotten the boys and herself off. She had diced up onions and whipped up eggs for an omelet. She had simmered tea for me. What kindness and thoughtfulness. I know she was grieving but she was serving us. It made us both happy to think that we were raising her right. But that's too much credit to us because she really is a good girl on her own.
When I'm upset I move. So I cleaned all that day. Not scrubbing the floor and the toilets because that's no fun but I started organizing mundane things and doing laundry.
Trav just wanted to play video games because then he didn't have to think. That was fine with me. How do you console someone when you feel responsible for their grief? I don't want to feel sad anymore. I was sad the whole pregnancy knowing how it would end. It was sort of a relief to have some finality. It was agonizing for me to have to got 18 weeks before the baby died. The earlier the better I guess. I said that to a lady that dropped of dinner. I said I wish it had happened sooner and I don't think she was expecting that.
I will go on with my life. I really am fine. I need to find some color in my life again. And I will. I always do. I am not a moper. There's always something that needs to be done. I'm a mama. That's why I'm here.

15 weeks

At almost 15 weeks I panicked. My stomach was still flat. I was feeling very stressed about the pregnancy so I insisted on being seen. The nurse practioner did an ultrasound with a little hand held device and found the heartbeat right away. The baby was moving its arm around, looking really good. I started to cry with relief because I walked into the appointment fully expecting no heartbeat. But we were good to go so I cancelled the appointment that I had for the following week feeling very confident. I was still very nauseous. That was a great sign too.
Here I am at 17 weeks. The baby had already died. Sigh....

My daughter really wanted to do weekly pictures and post them to facebook. I was all ready for the 18 week one but decided to wait until after our doctors appointment.