Let's Get Real

Written by: Brianna

I can't believe I haven't even taken the time to announce this beautiful BOY that we welcomed into our family on June 8th!!

Allow me to gush for a moment before I take the time to explain why it's taken me seven weeks to show this beautiful boy off.  We are so excited to try our hand at all things boy.  New clothes, toys, activities (kinda, we encourage our girls to try a little of everything), and experiences are all in store for our future.  Some sooner than others considering how many times I've been peed on. ;)  I'm continually amazed at the simplicity that is boy world, and I'm grateful to be a member.  But most of all we are beyond grateful to have another healthy, living baby as part of our family.

That being said is why this next part is so hard.  Four kids is a lot!  It's a herd, an entourage, a circus, and it's life altering (in my humble opinion).

We never thought we would have this many children to raise, and it is stretching my capacity mentally, emotionally, and physically.  Also, news flash I am older this time around.  Not to mention older than I ever "planned" to be while dealing with sleep deprivation, losing baby weight, feeding schedules coupled with taxi schedules, multitasking on crack (meaning extreme multitasking... I'm not on crack), and the looming thought of going back to my part time job with my two littlest littles in tow.  Add this on top of the massive amounts of guilt I feel for not being the mom to my big kids that I once was, not counting my blessings every minute, and not taking in this grand finale/encore baby... and well, I cry every. single. day.

Now that I have you all worried, including my husband who gently informed me last night that he worries I'm headed for a Britney Spears type melt down.

Know that I can do this (I'm telling myself that too).  I can and have done harder things.  I have seen screens with no heartbeat.  I have labored numerous hours to hear no cry.  I have laid two babies in their final resting place.  I have cried buckets of tears to where there is nothing left to come out.  I have felt a literal physical ache from having a broken heart.  This is nothing compared to that.  And I refuse to let being overwhelmed and my mommy guilt get the best of me.

Hopefully this gut check moment has not soured too many.  I know there are so many who ACHE for the stress I am feeling.  I am also hopeful that there are enough of you that can relate to where I am at too.  So here's to reaching down deep inside my soul and pulling out some of that amazing perspective that through my losses I was able to gain.  Here's to to remembering what matters and letting go of some of the excess.  Here's to stretching and growing so I can hopefully become the person our Heavenly Father intends for me to be.  Here's to motherhood, the good, the bad, the ugly, and the fulfilling.  Here's to being REAL.

Jinxed

Written by Brianna

During my pregnancy with Rainbow Baby A I became very superstitious, and avoided certain practices and/or past times.  For example, for the entire pregnancy I wore a pair of February birthstone earrings (month A was due) that my husband, Nate, got me while I was pregnant with Alex (also due in February) that I couldn't bear to take off.  I also wore a Tiffany's "bean" necklace that Nate got me for Christmas while I was pregnant with our first daughter... I figured it worked that time.  Beyond that I would not announce the pregnancy as I had either of the previous two.  I would not start working on the nursery (that ended up being a labor of love on Nate's part) as I had started cleaning it out before and lost Alex two short weeks later.  I declined to go on a girls get away that was a long standing tradition because the gestation of my pregnancy, and I couldn't take a chance of a deja vu.

Now I want to make note that I am a logical person, and what I lack in logic I make up for in faith.  Neither of which lead me to believe that any of the above would make one ounce of difference in my pregnancy outcomes.  That being said, sometimes that all goes out the window when you are terrified of being jinxed.  Complete sanity during pregnancy after loss is just a hollow promise or a pipe dream at best.

This pregnancy I have done better with the superstitions.  I only have had this one I have been holding on to, and today is the day I conquer it.  Approximately four and a half years ago we announced we were pregnant with Demree by having J wear this shirt...

My insides still ache when I see this picture, oh but how I can't help but feel blessed by that smile.  Anyways, several months ago I came across this shirt while cleaning some things out.  I didn't know what to do with it so I shoved it up in A's closet.  Well today I am thirty-three weeks pregnant, and it was time to take this picture... and yes they are full biological sisters. ;)

Milestones are good... even the littlest of ones. ;)

Reminders

Written by Brianna

Two weeks ago I went to my target ultrasound appointment, because I was nearing the 22 week mark in my pregnancy.  I love this appointment because I am able to get amazing images like these of our little...

I have also learned that any and all OB related appointments usually begin with the medical history questions, and go something like this:

Ultrasound Tech: What pregnancy is this?
Me: Seventh.
UT: Do you have six children at home?
Me: No, three.
UT: So three miscarriages?
Me: One early miscarriage, and two second trimester losses.

This is always when their stare breaks away from their computer screen.  This is when they look at me with either pity or bewilderment, wondering if I am simply crazy to be back in this place again. This is when they ask in what order were my losses, and when they like me can't believe I had two blissfully uneventful, text book pregnancies to begin our family.  This is when they ask if we ever knew why.  This is when, if they are good at their job, I see amazing amounts of empathy coming from another woman (my techs have always been women), a mom, as she thoroughly checks every inch of our unborn child to offer us as much hope as possible.

Honestly, it is not until these kind of reminders that I realize my differences.  No I haven't forgotten, how could I.  Not to mention I have an ever growing belly to remind me of such.  But I have just come to accept that this is my history... my journey.  It is still heart breaking at times, and I still maintain emotional scars.  BUT... this is our family.  This is our dynamic.  I own it.  I embrace it.  I like to think I have taken point from my amazing older daughters.  They just accept that we have babies in heaven and we have babies here.  They have no doubts about this reality, and are confident in us seeing them again some day.  I doubt they think it's ideal, but their innocence allows them to accept that it will all be okay.  It is honestly no wonder we are told repeatedly to "become as little children".  They really have it all figured out... just ask them. ;)

Prayers... Please

Written by Brianna

Over the past few weeks most of our friends and families have seen this announcement...

That's right we are pregnant with another baby.  Maybe some day I will write up how I came to this decision (and how I talked my husband into it ;), but for now know that the news is still crazy, hopeful, scary, and crazy.  Yes I said crazy twice, because I question my sanity on a daily basis. 

Our cute little peanut at almost 12 weeks. :)

As of now I am 15 weeks 3 days pregnant.  The holidays were a welcome distraction, but now I feel submerged in my pregnancy after loss anxiety.  This next month will be especially difficult for me, since I am coming up on the gestations of when I lost my other two babies.  The fear can make some moments excruciating. 

I have been sick with cold, and now some flu like symptoms.  I have no physical strength which makes emotional strength harder to muster up.  As I was praying yesterday for strength and comfort, it came to me to ask for the prayers of others.  I hate asking for help.  I do.  I know I'm not alone in this, I think it's human nature.  I'll also be the first to admit that I take prayer for granted.  When times are good I tend get casual with my talks to my Heavenly Father, but you better believe as soon as I need Him I can't hit my knees fast enough.  So you can see why I feel awkward in making this request, but I always go back to what the Bible dictionary says about prayer...  

"It {prayer} is the act by which the will of the Father and the will of the child are brought into correspondence with each other.  The object of prayer is not to change the will of God, but to secure for ourselves and for others blessings that God is already willing to grant, but are made conditional on our asking for them." 

So here I am asking for your prayers.  Prayers for the safety of our baby, prayers for peace in our hearts, prayers for our children to be tolerant of their scattered mom, and prayers for strength both physical and emotional.  I know the power of prayer is real.  I know that come what may, it will carry you.  I know this because I have felt it before.  So consider this me calling in a life line. :)

Our Loss, Our Angel

Written by Brianna:

Since yesterday was our sweet Demree’s fourth birthday, I thought it was a good time to share her birth story.  At times it feels like a life time ago, and then there are days like today where it feels fresh and new.  We love you Demree, and can’t help but wonder who you’d be today.  

Originally Written TUESDAY, DECEMBER 7, 2010

Our Loss, Our Angel...

From the beginning...

On Wednesday, December 1st, I woke up feeling agitated. I felt over whelmed, annoyed, and I know even my girls sensed it. I attributed this to the stress of our upcoming move (more on this another time), and all that I needed to get done in the next two weeks. I knew I had an appointment with my OB later on, but I was nervous to go. Considering I was just over eighteen weeks along, I thought I should be feeling my baby move more. I had flutters, and bumps every now and then, but nothing consistent. I expressed my concerns to both Nate and Kath, but I knew Nate had a busy day at work, and Kath was watching my girls, so I went to my appointment alone, as I had done before.

After waiting for almost an hour for Julia (my OB), because she was behind from a delivery, I finally got into the room for my ultrasound. Before we started I explained to her my concern over my baby's lack of noticeable movement. She said it could be that the placenta is in front, and that she would take a look for sure. Usually when she starts my ultrasounds she cuts straight to the sound of the heartbeat. This time she did not. Instead she was concentrating on taking several measurements. She asked again if I had felt the baby move at all, to which I replied yes, just not a lot, and not recently. She then told me she wasn't finding a heartbeat. At this moment I felt the blood rush from my face. She waited a second longer to see if it would "start back up", but nothing. She then checked the cord, and informed me there was no blood flow. The baby was measuring 18 weeks gestation, so what ever happened she believed it to be recent. Tears ran down my face as she explained what we needed to do next. I remember her telling me this was not my fault, that we would know more after I delivered the baby and the placenta, and yes, I was too far along for a D&C and I would need to deliver the baby. I was also told this would take 18-24 hours because my body was far from ready to deliver. I then asked her to look one more time at the ultrasound to see what we were having, since we had chose not to find out. She agreed, and looked at the best angle she could and said she was pretty sure it was a girl. Julia then left me to myself with instructions to talk with my husband to see when I wanted to go to the hospital to deliver our stillborn baby... our daughter.

Through massive tears I called Nate and my mom from the room at the doctors office. Nate agreed to come get me, and apologized for not being with me. Kath made arrangements for my girls to be taken care of for the night. When I left the doctors office I told Julia's MA that we wanted to get started as soon as possible. She said she would call with a time after she talked to Julia. I then left the building, and sobbed in my car. Looking back it is hard to believe this was a real moment in my life, and not a dream or a hoax I had worked up in my head.

Nate's dad drove Nate to me, and we hugged in the parking lot. I then asked to be taken to my mom's to see my girls... I needed their loves. By this point the doctor's office had called me back to tell me to be at the hospital at 7:00pm. This gave me hours to wait, cry, hug my babies, cry, cry some more and receive a wonderful priesthood blessing from my husband and his dad. This gave Nate time to gather my things, call and tell a few people, and hug our babies... he takes such good care of me.

Next Nate, me, and Kath headed to the hospital as instructed. At 8:30pm they then started me on my first dose of what would be several doses of Cytotec . This drug is what they use to thin and dilate your cervix. I then proceeded to spend the next 27 hours waiting, cramping, crying, being "checked", being freezing with fever chills, being hot when the fevers broke, and in the end just being finished... physically, mentally, and emotionally finished.

Around hour 26, Julia came to check me, and see what we could do to get this moving. When she did I was finally dilated to a one, and she decided it would be best to break my water. I had mixed feelings about this because I had heard babies in such a fragile state held up better if they delivered in their water sack, but at this point we really needed things to progress since I was past the 24 hour mark. Immediately after she did this the "real" contractions started frequent and hard. I had thought about doing this naturally, but Julia suggested an epidural in case my placenta wouldn't separate and she had to go "fetch it". If this ended up being the situation and I had an epidural she would do so in the room, if not she would have to take me to surgery. This would mean precious minutes or more that I would not get to spend with my baby, and that was not an option.

On December 2nd, 2010, right around 11:53pm I delivered our celestial angel, Demree Ray, with no pushing or pain. None of us were quite prepared for the unannounced way she came into this world. Due to the epidural I had no feeling and I was exhausted, so we didn't even know for at least twenty minutes that she had made her entrance. At first this was very difficult for me, but I decided not to waste precious time dwelling on guilt and circumstances we couldn't control. We also were unprepared for how tiny she was, and the strong rush of emotion for all of us that her arrival brought. We knew she would be small, but she was SO small... 7.5 ounces and 7.5 inches long. 

She may have been tiny, but she was perfect with all her tiny little features... ten tiny toes, ten tiny fingers, all with tiny nails. She had J's nose, a tiny pink tongue, and she came out with her hands crossed in her lap... such a lady. She looked peaceful. When Julia got there she informed us that Demree had suffered a "cord accident". The cord was wrapped around her neck three times, her neck was constricted and bruised, and her head was slightly swollen. There was nothing we could have done to save her and sometimes this is helpful to know, but at other times for a control freak like me it just feel helpless. 

We all took our turns holding her before Nate's dad arrived to help him give her a blessing. Nate gave our baby daughter the most beautiful, inspired blessing I have ever heard. I then just held her on my belly, trying to take her all in, and make a lifetime of mental memories since I knew our time together would be brief. Share (a non-profit group to help mothers with pregnancy and infant loss) arrived around 3:00am to take molds of her hands and feet, and a professional photographer took pictures of her for us as well. These women have all suffered the loss of a child, and they were definitely angels in human form. The level of compassion they showed to us as complete strangers was the most Christ like act of service I think I have ever witnessed. I only hope to eventually be able to pay their love forward.

After Share left we knew it was time to call the mortuary. As much as I would have loved to stay in that room with her forever, her little body was deteriorating by the minute. It was time to send her to a safe place until we could bury her in her final resting place. Saying goodbye before they took her away was incredibly difficult. We said a prayer with her, Nate, me, and Kath all took turns kissing her goodbye, and we sent her on her way. Oh how my heart and empty arms ached. The nurses let me leave about thirty minutes after Demree did. I needed to get out of there. Leaving the maternity ward at 5:00am empty handed was so hard, but I had an amazing support system with me. 

Nate has been so wonderful. He holds me, cries with me, and just is there with me. I love him more now than I ever have before, which is amazing to me since I didn't know that was possible. My mom, "my Kath", is as always our selfless supporter. I don't know what I would have done without her there. We feel so very loved by so many friends and family members. The texts, emails, phone calls, and Facebook posts of loving thoughts and offers to help have been endless. Our sincerest thanks to you all.

Today, December 7th, 2010, we had to do something I hoped we would never have to do... we had to bury our child. Nate and I went to the mortuary just the two of us before the graveside service to say our goodbyes to Demree and "tuck her in". She looked so perfect in her little white dress, hat, and booties that Nana had made. We both held her again, left letters from each of us in her casket, took pictures with her in her casket, made sure her clothes were not bunchy and booties were in tact, and all together just took the time to take in her peaceful presence. We then said our final goodbyes, and drove to the cemetery.

We chose to have Demree buried in the "Baby Land" portion of the cemetery. It brings us great comfort to know that she is surrounded by other perfect, little beings as herself. Nate's dad said some beautiful, comforting words, and then Nate dedicated her grave. M and J, looking so beautiful in their Christmas dresses, then released balloons into the sky as a gift to our "Baby Demree". After they let the balloons go, they quickly ran through the cemetery to get a better look as they drifted off to heaven. It was a beautiful moment of child like innocence that I never want to forget. It was all very fitting, and we felt very loved and supported by our family members.

So now we go back to "normal life", and trying to define what that is for us now. There is a void in our family that will not be able to be filled in this life, and that is our reality that we have to learn to live with. We are honored that the Lord would feel we are strong enough for such a trial, and that Demree chose us as parents. We love you Demree Ray, and will miss you dearly. We know you are in good hands with our Heavenly Father and our Savior, and we know we will see you again. For the time being, have fun playing with Carter and Addelyn. :)

Remembering

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, as well as October 15th being National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.  I love taking the time to celebrate my babes who were born still, and taking stock of the ways they have touched our lives.

In October Utah Share holds "The Walk to Remember".  This event is a symbolic walk for loved ones to take the steps their babies will never take.  After a small walk around the park there is a giant balloon release.  During this balloon release they read off all the littles names as their families release balloons heaven bound, some with messages written on them.

I love the walk.  I love the symbolism of it all.  I love that my babies here get a chance to remember sisters they don't see every day.  I love that for those few hours I get to relish in the thought of five daughters instead of three, and when people ask how many kids we have they really want to know about them... all of them.  I am saddened to see that there are others who are living without a piece of their hearts too, but find strength in our ability to lift each other up.  I love giving our babies an "event" of  their own.  I love to remember. :')

The other way we like to remember is by participating in the Wave of Light.  I usually post something like this on my Facebook in hopes of spreading the word...

I love when friends, and family either post or send me pictures with their candles lit on October 15th.  It is such a small gesture, but usually that's the best kind.  I feel of their love for me, our family, and our babies that they never got to know.

Happy October little babies.  May your short, little lives continue to change the world for the better. 

Broken

This Friday is our second Angel Baby, Alex’s, 3^rd birthday.  In honor of her, I thought it was time to share her birth story that I originally shared on my personal blog shortly after she left us.  Sorry in advance... it is a little long, but I know she deserves every word. :’)

Originally written SUNDAY, SEPTEMBER 11, 2011

Broken...

On early Friday morning, September 2nd, I was up in Park City, UT waking up from our annual Swiss Days overnight stay with my mom and friends. My sleep had been restless at best so I decided to calm my nerves I would use my Doppler to check on our baby. I looked patiently for a steady heartbeat, but only found inconsistent readings. I put down the Doppler to get in the shower. At this point I was starting to panic. I found myself praying through tears in the shower that I was being irrational. When I got out I tried to pull it together as not to disrupt the day. I obviously am not good at this, and my mom knew of my fear so she suggested we go to a clinic in town and get an ultrasound to ease my frantic mind. I agreed.

Navigating Park City was a joke. Everything looks the same, and it was too early to ask anyone for directions. I really wanted a clinic in an effort to save money, but when we called one we found out they didn't open until 8:00 am and she wasn't sure if they had an ultrasound machine. Unfortunately this individual was so ill informed she didn't even know the address to the hospital... we were on our own. After being led astray by the GPS once, we pulled into the parking lot to a school to decide what to do. All the while I am using my Doppler, but the readings were still so inconsistent. By inconsistent I mean the heart rate would spike and then come back down to what would be considered my pulse rate. We decided to leave the school parking lot, and head towards the outlets. Not a half a mile out of the school we saw a blue hospital sign. We followed it with relief, and pulled into the ER sure to ease crazy Brianne's mind.

I was in tears as we entered the ER. My mom and I went right up to admit and my mom requested firmly she needed to pay for an ultrasound, and explained briefly my medical history. The admit clerk was very kind, and said we would need a doctors order, but they weren't very busy and could accommodate me fast. I was lead straight back by a doctor, a nurse, and an orderly. The doctor went over my history, and asked if I had any bleeding, cramping, contractions, or recent accident. I answered no, but explained about the readings I was getting on my Doppler. She said she had already ordered an ultrasound and they had a hospital Doppler ready to see what they could find.

The nurse began to administer the Doppler as I lay there. At first she too could only pick up my pulse rate, but then she started to get some higher readings. No sound, but at least readings she was picking up. She then explained how it will be interesting to see where the baby and the placenta are positioned, because that could be why it was so hard to get a reading. As they wheeled me into ultrasound, I felt a little more hopeful. I kept relying on at least the nurse saw something. This faded fast as the ultrasound tech began. Instead of immediately showing me the heartbeat, she told me she was going to take some measurements. After losing Demree I knew this was a bad sign. I quickly asked with a crackled voice if she could see a heartbeat, to which she soberly replied "I don't".

At this point I can't remember how loud I cried out. I'm sure it was a lot louder in my head than it actually was. Through tears I asked my crying mother to call Nate who didn't even know I was at the hospital... I didn't want to have to worry him. She stepped out and did so while the tech continued to take measurements. I knew our baby's size would be close to where it should because I had good fetal heart tones not even two days prior. Our baby's death was recent. Our baby was measuring seventeen weeks as it should, and I didn't even have to be told that I would have to deliver again. I knew it.

The doctors then proceeded to have radiologists look at the ultrasound to be sure, and they also tried to contact my doctor who I later found out was out of town. The radiologists came to the same conclusion which was no shock to me... I had seen our still child with my own eyes. Next I talked to my doctor, Julia, over the phone who was in Lake Powell. She urged me to wait until she could get back. I struggled with this, but knew I would have to wait a little while because my regular hospital was very full. I left my conversation with Julia with not being sure of our plans, but expecting a call back from her or her office. I could tell she was as astonished as me. She said she has never had two fetal demises at almost the exact same gestation. All I could think was this is not something I wanted to be in the record books for.

Of course Nate could not stay away from me even though I was soon to be released from the hospital in Park City. His dad drove him to me, and he was there right before I was able to leave. Oh how I love this man. My heart breaks for the pain I know he has suffered. Even in the worst of situations I feel comforted in his presence... he is my rock.

On the drive home Julia's office called me and told me they had my induction scheduled for Sunday night. I asked if there was any way to do it earlier, and they said Julia really wanted to be there so I reluctantly agreed.

Since our original plans included going to the cabin for the extended weekend, we decided to send the girls anyways. As much as I wanted to have them home, because it makes me feel better, it would have been selfish. No child needs to see their parent that sad, that out of it, that lost. I then spent the next two days as a walking tomb, while Nate tried to take care of me. It was hard, and that is an understatement. My insides felt crushed, and I had to remind myself to breathe. I also watched my body physically change. My little, hard baby bump was already shrinking, I felt no hunger, and my skin even started to clear. My body was clearly no longer nourishing my baby, and it was apparent.

On Sunday morning I got a call that I didn't answer, and Sunday around noon I got another call from the same number. This time I listened to the messages, and found out it was the hospital informing me of a miscommunication. Julia would not be back for a day longer than they expected, so if I wanted to have her there I would need to schedule for Monday night, but if I wanted to use her partner on call I could stick with our original plan. My heart sunk. I really wanted Julia to be there, but I really knew I couldn't wait another twenty-four hours. I decided to use her partner, and then we asked if I could come any sooner. They said any time, so with in an hour or two we were off.

After we arrived at the hospital, and were admitted, Nate asked if I could have another ultrasound just to be sure. My nurse, Renae (same nurse who delivered M and is the mother of my best friend from high school), said that would be fine. This ultrasound tech was much more sympathetic to our situation, and asked before she started if we wanted to know what she was doing while she was doing it. I liked that I would know what she was measuring, and I found this part very helpful. So there again I stared at the screen as she showed us our still baby. She took many measurements, and our baby was measuring 17 weeks 1 day. I asked her to tell us if she could see what the gender was since we had originally planned to not find out. She said since the baby isn't moving it is hard because you only get one angle, but asked if we would like her to guess. I said yes, and she said her best guess is "girl". I told her she was probably right since that is all we make, something that I am really so proud of. From there, with our minds at ease, we went back to my room so I could officially be started.

Before they started the drugs, Nate and his dad gave me a Priesthood blessing. I am always thankful, especially at times like these, for the Priesthood being so present in my life. The next nine hours consisted of cramping, chills, beeping machines, and very little sleep so I wouldn't take a chance of missing anything. At around 3:00am I felt, and heard a pop. My water had broke. I called my nurse in immediately and she checked me to reveal I was dilated to a 5, and they thought they could feel a hand or a foot. Next they placed an epidural which I really didn't need, but if you don't get it and the placenta doesn't detach, you take the risk of having surgery right away to remove it. Time is SO precious with these little babies it is just not worth the risk of losing one minute.

At 3:42am on September 5th, 2011, I gave birth to our second celestial daughter, Alex Beth. She weighed 5 oz and was 7 1/2 inches long... same length as Demree. She came out with the cord wrapped loosely around her arm, but everything else was normal including her cord and placenta. Alex was perfect looking. All of her features and parts were so tiny yet SO perfect... all she needed was more time to grow. At this point I was thankful for the time spent before the hospital to mourn. I really felt like I could take her in to the fullest.

Share came to the hospital to make foot molds and take pictures of our sweet baby. Both of the women who came, Toni and Tanya, are my friends on Facebook. They of course felt awful that I was here again in less than a year's time. Toni has suffered multiple losses as well, and her insight was very helpful. Again I was astonished at there giving spirits, and only hope to pay it forward one day. Share is truly an inspired program.

After Alex was born, and the doctor got there to look things over I asked him what my options were so I could get some answers. He said they could do chromosome testing, which is very expensive and he doubted we would get any answers since her little body showed no signs of chromosome abnormality. We also had the option of an autopsy, but he doubted they would find anything there either. He also said that after autopsy they can't promise there would be much of her left, and this didn't sit well with me or Nate. For routine purposes they will still autopsy the placenta and cord, but again they are doubtful they will find anything. So for now we are left with mountains of questions that we may never get answers for. This has to be one of the hardest parts.

As the morning went on we knew that it was time to say goodbye to our little one. We were so exhausted, and we knew we still had the task at hand of telling our girls there would be no more baby after Christmas, and that we had another family member in Heaven with Heavenly Father and Jesus. Renae called the mortuary, and since it was a holiday they were short handed. We loved and kissed our little Alex goodbye, and left her in Renae's capable hands until the mortuary could pick her up. Again I will say that leaving the maternity floor empty handed makes for the longest wheel chair ride ever. It is lonely... very lonely.

We picked up our girls, and broke the news. M was pretty upset. Her bottom lip hung out in an effort to hold back her tears. We explained that it is okay to be sad, okay to cry, and reminded her again that Alex is now with Demree in Heaven doing lots of important stuff. I am pretty sure J understood to best of three year old ability. I know she no longer asks if I have a baby in my tummy, so our message must have been received. They took it like I expected... hard, but kids always take things better than adults. Their innocence helps them to accept what comes, and know it will be okay. As parents this part was so hard for us. Explaining death to such young kids, and also disappointing them that there will be no baby in our house to hold was and is crushing.

The next few days were spent crying, and planning Alex's graveside. We kept the girls going to school, and I did my best to avoid people in general... I still am doing that. On Friday, September 9th, 2011, we laid Alex Beth to rest. She is buried in the plot bordering Demree on the west side. It was a beautiful little service with our immediate family honoring Alex's brief existence on this earth. Nate did a great job dedicating her grave, something I know is so hard for him, but something he would never let anyone else do. I couldn't help but stare at Alex's little casket, and then stare at Demree's gravestone, and then think in disbelief that I really am here doing this again. 

Now I wake up every morning full of sorrow that Alex is no longer growing below my heart. I feel broken... my body, my spirit, and most of all my heart. I understand where she is now, and I know this is part of the plan... her plan, the Lord's, and ours. In no way do I feel this is fair, but life isn't. I wanted this baby so bad... maybe more than anyone has ever wanted a baby, or at least I like to think so. I tried to give her a perfect home for her seventeen short weeks of life, and I prayed often for her safe arrival. I now am trying to re-establish what normal is... again.

One thing I do know is that we are loved. We may have the best support system ever. We know if people could they would do ANYTHING to ease our pain. For this we are so very thankful.

Alex, we love you baby... eternally.

"Are you going to have anymore?"

Written by Brianna

"Are you going to have anymore?"  

"Are you finished?"

"Are you going to have another baby?"

"Are you going to try for a boy?" (This one is the worst!)

What do all these questions have in common?  I get asked one of them in some form or another on almost a weekly (okay maybe monthly) basis.  I know people really want to know where I/we stand on this important life altering decision, but no question(s) gives me more anxiety than this one.  We are talking my stomach instantly cramps and aches, my heart races, my mouth goes dry, and my mind races kind of anxiety.  It's a familiar feeling considering it's how I spent my entire last pregnancy.

I realize this is a bit of an over reaction to such a common question, but I chalk it up to the PTSD of my whole situation.  I do not resent anyone for asking.  I know family, friends, and acquaintances really are curious about such things, and I can't blame them.  I would be too.  I just feel completely inadequate to answer such a loaded question.

For us choosing to have another isn't just about welcoming a new member to our family.  It's not just about finances, room in our home, or capability to provide love and attention.  It is about choosing to accept the consequences that come with it.  Anxiety ridden pregnancy full of panic attacks.  Merely functioning for my children instead of being the mom they deserve.  The strain put on my poor husband and mother when said panic attacks become too much for me to carry alone.  The real possibility of delivering another still baby, and laying them to rest.

Now bear with me as I digress a little.  Today is my 32nd birthday, and I thought a little picture timeline would be fun and informative.  Thanks for indulging me. :)

Me on my 22nd birthday an entire decade ago.  Yikes.  Anyways, I had been married for a little over a year and a half, and was yet to become a mother.  In my head if I stayed on schedule I could have the three children Nate and I wanted before I turned the dreaded thirty.  You know, because you are old and decrepit once you hit thirty, and heaven forbid I turn into one of those "old moms".  None the less I still love this picture.  I love the naivety and innocence that it represents.  Oh you silly, silly young twenty-something. 

  

Me roughly thirty-six weeks pregnant with my first baby girl.  I LOVE this picture, because I still loved every part about being pregnant... chubby face and all. :)

Now this is one of my favorite pictures ever... me with my newborn baby J (my second baby).  I remember little about J as a baby, due to her and M only being two years apart.  I do remember when Nate would say that he was probably good with just the two, I would tear up just thinking how I was not done.

Next we have me about ten weeks pregnant with our third baby, Demree.  I was still not telling people, and I was sick this time around.  I was getting fat fast, but I was excited that life was on track.  We were on our way to our third and final baby.  I was sure of it. 

Then came Demree

Then came Alex

Two years ago I was celebrating my 30th birthday, and was roughly nine weeks pregnant with Rainbow Baby A.  Nothing makes you want to leave your twenties like a couple traumatic years.  I was so incredibly hopeful, and so petrified at the same time.

Rainbow Baby A.  Our fifth daughter.  Have you ever seen anything more beautiful ever??

So I guess that brings us back to the original question at hand, "Are you going to have another?"  And the honest answer is that we have put a giant pin in that thought for later.  We are enjoying what we have.  Our hearts swell that our big girls are choosing to share a room still, because they are each other's security whether they want to admit it or not.  We love sneaking in (more like racing in to be first) to Baby A's room at night for one last stroke of her hair and cheek, and hoping she wakes up for a cuddle.  We love how refreshing it is to just worry about frivolous things.  We love being happy.

No we don't get the luxury of feeling like everyone is here, because everyone is not... nor will they be in this life.  That is an ache I am learning to live with.  We also acknowledge that Nate and Brianna of old would have stuck to the original plan, because that's what we do... but the Nate and Brianna of new realize that our plan is not always THE plan.  Perspective is such a priceless gift.  We appreciate each of these little creatures for the miracles that they are. It is with that sentiment, and a heart full of gratitude that I celebrate being a thirty something mom... thirty-two to be exact. :)

Grateful

Written by Brianna

Two nights ago I was asked to share some of my experiences at our church during a women's activity.  The meeting was focusing on trials and hardships, how everyone struggles with different things, and how our Heavenly Father loves us regardless.  While I was honored to be asked I was equally petrified.  Writing your experiences for everyone to read is entirely easier than getting up in front of people and speaking about them out loud (at least for me).  Luckily I was able to make my thoughts audible, and I can only hope I got the message across I was trying to.

I have to admit that I feel incredibly blessed to be at a place in my journey to be able to take on such a task.  It has been a long time coming, and a mostly up hill battle... BUT I have done it.  I KNOW I can do hard things.  I am a survivor.  Now this is not an invitation to the Lord to "bring it", but more of my way of showing gratitude for such opportunities.

That's right.  I am grateful for my heartache.  I am grateful to know the bitter from the sweet.  I am grateful to be able to recognize miracles when I see them.  I am grateful for the family dynamic that I am able to have, including the daughters I have yet to know.  A family in which I know I wouldn't have if life would have remained on it's uneventful path.  I am grateful for the perspective I have gained, and because of this perspective the kind of mother I have become.  I loved and appreciated my children before we lost our babies, but no where near the way I do now.  This perspective has also allowed be to realize that problems and struggles I used to think were a big deal really are not, and I am constantly trying harder to relish the seemingly insignificant moments with my littles.

Know that I have lots of room for improvement when it comes to living in the moment, and I still whine with the best of them.  But I am grateful for the small glimpse of the eternal perspective through Heavenly Father's eyes, and how humbling it can be.  I am grateful for a Heavenly Father who loves me enough to give me far bigger trials than I ever thought I could handle, and for a loving Savior who helps me with the growing pains.

The DON'Ts

Written by Brianna

Last time I posted I talked about the DO's when trying to help someone who has recently lost a baby.  Well I have found that with every "do" there usually is a DON'T to go with it.  So here goes my general list of things NOT to do.

The DON'Ts

::  Don't stop by in the middle of the day unannounced to a mom who has recently lost a baby.  If you want to drop something by, then just leave it at the door and go.  Better yet wait until you know someone else will be home so you can leave it with them.

::  Don't expect mom to pick up the phone.  I found talking on the phone to be excruciating... I cried worse over the phone than I did in person.  To this day I still screen my calls pretty heavily... kind of my own form of PTSD.

::  Don't compare your situation (your hardships and trials) with their's.  Even after losing babies I try (I am sure I am not perfect at this) not to compare.  Everyone's situation is different even if they have similarities.  As time goes on there will be time to relate to one another, but let them take the lead on that.

::  Don't disappear.  Even if this loved one does not allow you to be there for them as much as you would like to be, that is not an invitation to withdraw.  The vulnerability felt leaves you feeling raw and exposed, and few people want to display that to others... even those they are closest to.  Just try to remember this is not about you.  If more people remembered that, (sigh) grieving would be so much easier... well maybe not easier, but better.

::  Don't decide when they should be "all better" or "over it".  There is no time line on grief.  I talked more about that here on the first post I wrote.  This brings me to my next don't...

::  Don't expect them to be the same person they were before.  I feel now that I am closer to the person I used to be, time has helped with that.  But not the same and I probably never will be.  I can even look at pictures and identify the "before" me and the "after" me.  But really that's okay.  I am good with that.

::  Don't say "well at least you don't have to lose as much weight (since you had the baby early)".  I would have been the size of a bus for the rest of my life if it meant a healthy baby.  And on top of that I remember being really sad watching my swollen belly go down.  The physical changes to your body after loss are apparent enough, and sharp little reminders all on their own.

::  Don't say... oh there are just so many... "your baby is in a better place now", "God needed another angel", "your baby was just too perfect for this earth", etc., etc., etc.  While these statements may be true to a person of faith, they don't always make you feel better when the pain is so new and all you want is to have your baby here with you.  These also make a huge assumption that you know this family's belief system.  Honestly the best thing to say is, "I AM SO SORRY FOR YOUR LOSS."  And that is enough.

::  Don't say "well at least you can get pregnant again".  This statement makes SO many assumptions about the grieving mom.  Such as what they are emotionally, mentally, and physically capable of.  Also, it may just remind them of the real fear they have that they will never have another healthy, living baby in this life.  But most important it minimizes the importance of the life they just lost.  I didn't want to be pregnant again, I wanted to still be pregnant.  I wanted to get to know, love on, and watch grow the baby I had held in my arms.  Granted the time for subsequent pregnancies does come (for some), but they should not be treated as a consolation prize.


Now I realize this is not all the DON'Ts out there.  How can it be?  Every situation is different.  Because of this I invite anyone who has a "DON'T" they have found to be particularly hurtful to please share it in the comments.  I have found for the most part people mean well, and they don't want to hurt feelings or make things more difficult.... they just don't know any better.  Educated people are always more empathetic. :)

Last but not least, a picture of my sweet Demree's tiny feet...

The DO's

Written by Brianna

I have been asked many times "what can I do?" in reference to someone losing a baby.  I have a small running list of some general things that I found helpful myself, or that I have seen helpful for someone else.  First I feel like I need to share some back story on my support team.  After losing my babies I know now more than ever that certain people are put into our lives for a reason. :)

Losing my first baby, Demree, was my first personal experience with loss, but it wasn't my first encounter.  My first encounter came before I was a mother myself.  Ally, my best friend from childhood, lost her first baby, Carter, four short days before his due date.  Oh how I ached for my friend, who was the closest thing I had to a sister, and her loving husband.  Also, this was my first time being the helpless friend.  I realize my sadness and helplessness didn't compare to her's, not even close, but I wanted so badly to do something.  I wanted to ease her burden, I wanted her to know how much I loved her, and I didn't have a clue how to go about it.

My second encounter came after my second baby J was six months old.  My friend Beth, whom I met through church and pregnancy water aerobics, had just received word that her third baby, her first daughter, no longer had a heartbeat at twenty-one weeks.  Beth and I were friends, but more like surface level friends.  We didn't talk one on one much, but still socialized with each other often.  After she lost Addelyn, I just felt the need for her not to be alone.  I am sure I overstepped a time or two, but I wanted her to realize that I wanted to be there for her.  Addy helped mine and Beth's relationship grow into what it is.  I can't wait until the day I can meet her in person, and thank her for helping me realize my best friend.

Both of my two friends' losses unfortunately were my gain.  Due to their painfully gained knowledge, when I lost my babies I had an AMAZING support system (which only started with them... we were loved by many).  The acts of service they each did for me are almost too sacred to share.  I now only wish I were able to do for them what they were able to do for me.  So now I just try to pay it forward when I can.  Not everyone is as lucky as I was, and please don't ever be discouraged if you are not able to be this kind of friend for someone who is grieving.  Sometimes it won't even be a possibility.  It's a very private and vulnerable thing to experience, and no two people handle it the same.  But there are plenty of things to do that may seem insignificant at the time, but end up meaning a lot as someone looks back on them.

The DO's

::  Do get them a little gift if you feel so inclined.  My best gifts were books ('Gone Too Soon', 'For They Shall be Comforted', and 'Tear Soup' were my favorites), jewelry, Christmas ornaments, and basically anything that acknowledges they actually really lost someone.

::  Do send notes, cards, emails, and text/instant messages.  In my opinion, best form of communication in times of sorrow.

::  Do "the little things" that lighten their load.  Neighbors mowing our lawn, taking our children to school, filling in on our church responsibilities, and any small acts of service that can be done without asking are the best kind.

::  Do try to coordinate through the husband.  It's just better, trust me.

::  Do try to offer up some kind of monetary donation to the family.  This usually only applies to the immediate family, but not always.  Just remember this family is now faced with unexpected expenses when it comes to funeral costs, and preemptive medical bills.

::  Do acknowledge mom and the family when they attempt to insert themselves back into social situations (i.e, work, church, social gatherings).

::  Do make the arrangements when trying to help.  Such as "I will bring dinner on this day at this time", or "I will be by to pick up your kids to play on this day at this time".  This may seem silly, but I felt so scattered at the time that just trying to make arrangements for my kids made me want to go get back in bed.

::  Do let them talk about their baby and/or their experience if they want to.

::  Do know that as much as you don't want them to be uncomfortable, they are that much more concerned with you being uncomfortable.  This was very much the case right after my losses (especially my second, I was like a circus freak ;), but still holds true now.  I spend a lot of time trying to ease other people's awkwardness with MY situation. (This one may be less general, and more my perception.  Thought I would include it anyway.)

:: Do pray for them. :')  I promise we could feel the strength from everyone's humble prayers in our behalf.

::  Do say "I am so sorry", and most of the time leave it at that.

I remember when Beth told me that she now really knows what the phrase "it's the thought that counts" means, and I completely agree.  When you are broken inside it really is nice to feel thought of. :)

Leap of Faith Part II

Written by Brianna

To read part one click here.

Originally written, OCTOBER 10, 2012

Trying...

I would assume that most people reading this know how a baby is made, and I don't need to get into the real logistics there.  A little history on me would be that I have a mixed bag when it comes to my fertility.  It took me almost 18 months, and the help of medicine to conceive my first baby M.  My second baby J was with in three cycles.  Demree, my next pregnancy (6-week miscarriage), and Alex were all immediate.  By this point I thought my body had really figured out how to get pregnant, maybe not stay pregnant, but definitely get there.  I was mistaken.

It's all a little blurry because of how emotional I was at the time, but I went for two cycles "trying" on my own.  The first of which I was very casual about.  I really just wanted it to happen so I could place it all on the Lord's will, but like so often in my life the Lord wants me to express my free agency, and will hold me to being an active part in the route my life will take. Since I did not conceive on my first cycle like I had with my previous three pregnancies, I went more direct with ovulation tests.  When ovulation tests exposed that I was not ovulating I called my doctor.

Julia (my OB) had no problems with prescribing me a fertility drug to help me ovulate.  She assured me that neither drug had any connection with pregnancy loss.  She gave me the choice of Femara or Chlomid.  I went with Chlomid, because it was remarkable less expensive.  I tried this for two cycles... no pregnancy.  I was worried, even though my body was probably just trying to recover and needed more time, but not being able to conceive only seemed to magnify my grief and lack of control.  I called my doctor's office, and they strongly suggested I switch to the Femara.  Great I thought.  I had priced out Femara, and the cheapest I could find it was for approximately $252 for the ten pills I would need for this one cycle.  The thought of this made me sick inside, but I was leaping here so I agreed to it.  I went to pick them up at the Walmart Pharmacy, and I was already to throw up in my mouth when I was told my total and the pharmacy tech said I owed like $4.52.  I asked him to check again that he had the right person and prescription to which he did and confirmed what he said above.  I paid the man with a $5 bill, and left with my mouth wide open.  I even called the pharmacy again the next day to be sure they were not mistaken, and they weren't.  This was a true witness for me of one of the Lord's tender mercies.  I was thrown a little life line that some would consider insignificant, but for me it meant the world.  Also, for the first time on this journey I felt I was moving forward on the path I was meant to be on.

So the rest is history.  I took the Femara, ovulated, and had a positive pregnancy test two weeks later.  Now the real journey began.

Extra precautions...

When I found out I was pregnant I called my doctor's office so they could put me on low dose Heprin.  This is an experimental option I went with to insure I was doing everything possible to give this baby a chance.  Like my doctor told me, "no guarantees, but you have nothing to lose (by using the Heprin)".  Heprin should help to thin and increase blood flow to the placenta... healthy placenta equals healthy baby.  Also Heprin could help with any blood clotting agents that are thus far unknown to the medical world.  Heprin can only be dosed via injection, so that's what I do twice a day until I am 30 weeks along.  No it is not fun, and my stomach and thighs are bruised like I let small children treat me like a pinata, but it's the least I can do to give this baby every chance at making it. 

At first I went into the doctor every two weeks to check my progress.  Then it went to every week during my high stress, anxious weeks.  This last time I made it three weeks without going in!  I know that may not seem like much, but for me it is huge.  It helps that this baby is very active, and I can feel a lot of movement.  I still get anxious, but the baby moving gives me relief in between the moments of panic. 

Where we are now...

I just went to my 22 week target ultrasound appointment, and our baby looks wonderful.  Everything looks great, the heartbeat sounds great, and out baby is right on track for size.  We pray daily for a healthy baby that we can raise here in this life.  I guess when it comes down to it, as much as I love being in control I just had to give it up.  I have no control over what happens, and as much as that scares me, fear was not a good enough reason not to take this leap.  We love this baby come what may, and while we are hopeful... we know our family's fate is truly in the Lord's hands.  We love and appreciate all the prayers and support you all give us.  We feel of your comfort every day.  Thank you.

The rest of my pregnancy thankfully was not quite as anxiety ridden as those first twenty-two weeks.  I still worried ALL. THE. TIME.  Every night I would go to bed exhausted, from anxiety (and pregnancy), but feeling accomplished that I had survived another day, and kept this baby alive.  Every morning I would wake up with what felt like an elephant sitting on my chest due to the anxiety of not knowing what the day might bring.  I would wake up frequently in the night panicked that I hadn't felt the baby move in while.  Which of course I hadn't because I had been asleep, but logic is wasted on an irrational, grieving pregnant lady.  I can't tell you how much ice water and apple juice I drank, or how many prayers I offered up just to be able to feel another wiggle or kick.  Pregnancy after loss is exhausting, emotional, scary, and refining.  It took the little faith I had left (that of the mustard size seed variety), and all the hope I could work up.  It was all I had wanted for years, and I am eternally grateful that I again had the opportunity. 

On January 27, 2013, I was able to give birth to a perfect blonde haired, blue eyed baby girl.  I could gush for days about her, that moment, how she has helped me to heal, and the mother I am now... (big loving sigh)... but for now...