10 months and a new perspective

Wow- 10 months. I'm not even sure where to begin this time. I've had lots of random thoughts recently that I will attempt to express in some organized fashion, but I can't promise that this entry will even make much sense.
First, I want to address the fundraising ideas that were discussed several months ago. Just to clarify, I am still very interested in coordinating an event to raise funds for the Trisomy 18 foundation. This interest and passion has not gone away; however, my originial intention to host something on or around Lily's birthday will not happen this year because our baby is due to arrive about a week later, and, even I realized that this is too much to handle this year. I do not want to let this dream go, though, so I will continue to brainstorm ways to make this happen in the future. I still appreciate every one of you who has offered ideas and suggestions, and volunteered to help. I haven't forgotten you, and I'm sure that I will re-enlist your help when the time comes. For this year, though, we are hoping acknowledge Lily's birthday and remember her in a smaller, more intimate way. Many of you know that we were never able to put together a memorial service for her, and that is something that we have regrets about. We were hoping that hosting a fundraiser in her honor would allow us to have a positive memorial for her, and because it won't happen this year, I already have mommy guilt about Lily's baby sister overshadowing her. I have made it a point to be clear on a number of occasions that another pregnancy and another child will not replace my experience with Lily. I have reminded myself repeatedly that this baby certainly will not ease the pain of Lily's death. I think that I've been so rigid about this way of thinking, though, that I have failed to see other perspectives.
I recently had a conversation with an aquaintance who didn't realize that I lost my Lily last summer. After seeing my pregnant belly, she asked "Oh, is this your 3rd?". Now, let me deviate momentarily to discuss my thoughts on the many variations of this question. I know for certain that the inevitable question of "How many children do you have?" is one of the most dreaded questions any parent who has lost a child can face. We all struggle at times with how best to answer this. Do I answer with the number of living children that I have, or do I go on to explain that I have one child in heaven. Sharing this information will no doubt alter the rest of the conversation and the way the other person responds to you, even the way they will look at you. I am always very mindful to not make others feel uncomfortable, however, by not acknowledging my daughter, it is as if she was not real or not important enough to talk about, and that is not acceptable to me. I'm not sure that others realize the impact that this seemingly simple question can have on people. The internal struggle, debate, and dialogue that happens in my mind before I let out an answer seems to go on for minutes, not the second that it probably takes for me to answer.
So, I responded to her question truthfully, and she offered me the most heart felt and genuine reaction I think I have ever experienced. She didn't look down or look away or apologize for asking. (A word of advice for anyone else in this situation- please don't apologize for asking the question. Most of us in this situation love the opportunity to talk about each of our children, living or not, but we just don't want to make you uncomfortable.) She immediately reached over and placed her hand on mine, and seemed interested in hearing about my daughter. She referred to her as my angel. The conversation moved back to my pregnancy and the feelings that I have had throughout the pregnancy, and when she learned that I am having another girl, she made the comment that Lily is coming back to me. It took me a second to process this idea. I smiled and nodded, but have since thought about this a lot. I've been so careful to see this baby as a completely separate individual, and I've honestly been somewhat struggling with the balance of processing my ongoing feelings about our experience with Lily and trying to not let fear have a negative impact on my pregnancy. I never once considered the idea that Lily is "coming back" to me. I've been so worried about leaving Lily behind and the fact that this baby's arrival is preventing me from celebrating Lily's life the way we intended to. I still don't really know how I feel about the idea that she is coming back to me, but it has brought me a new perspective that makes me feel a little more peace and joy.

Timeline

Have you noticed the Lilypie timeline on the right side of the screen for my blog? It documents how long it's been since our baby went to heaven. I'm really starting to resent that timeline. I remember when I was putting this blog together, and I added this feature, the image of the baby was not even up to the number 1 yet, and I wondered what things would feel like as she progressively moved forward getting further and further away from the 1. I thought things would be easier. People say that times heals all wounds, and that grief gets easier with time. In some ways, I can see the rationale behind these statements, but this is not something I would ever choose to say to someone experiencing grief.

I've caught myself a couple of times recently checking out this visual symbol of my grief timeline, and I find myself feeling angry because I don't feel a sense of accomplishment that I am further away from the 1. I remember when this angel was in the midst of the image of the tree, and I thought that was the eye of the storm for me. She has since moved pretty far away from that tree, and there is nothing left, nowhere for her to go. What will happen when the tree is completely off of the screen? It's like the storm is that much further behind me, but I don't really want it to be that far behind. I actually wish I could reverse time. I would intentionally choose to re-experience all of my feelings of grief and sorrow to have those hours with my baby in the hospital again. I would go through all of the agony again: the harsh reality of an imperfect sonogram, the appointments with the doctors, the discussions with the specialists, the dreaded walk into the hospital, the labor and delivery, the surgery after the delivery, the drive to the funeral home to pick up my daughter's ashes by myself, and the subsequent drive home with her in my lap (which really could be a post all by itself) because all of that was so closely related to the time I spent looking at her face and feeling her weight in my hands.

It's kind of strange how something so insignificant can cause such a profound emotional reaction, but looking at that silly baby angel on my timeline really just reminds me how long ago it was that I saw her face, and that feeling sometimes overrides the "benefits" of nine months of grief time under my belt. Every once in a while, something like this hits me so out of the blue that I never saw it coming and others around me would probably not understand. Maybe this is a just fleeting bout of negativity as this image struck me wrong today, but I do feel better after venting about it. I'll keep the timeline up for now, and re-evaluate how I feel about it again sometime in the next few months.

9 months

For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb. I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth, your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be. Psalm 139: 13-16.


I love this!! As much as I like to think about how these verses apply to our newest blessing still being formed in my womb, I like to think about this even more so with Lily. Given the circumstances, I could see how someone else in our situation might doubt these words, but I have no doubt that Lily was, quite literally, fearfully and wonderfully made. God had complete control over her body and her life. Her imperfections are what made her perfect. Her unformed, even deformed body, though difficult for others to see were easily seen by Him. To Him, and me, she was beautiful.

8 Months

Yesterday marked the eight month anniversary of Lily's death. It was Superbowl Sunday. One year ago, on Superbowl Sunday, we found out that I was expecting. I can vividly remember the rush of feelings that we experienced that day as we stared at the row of pregnancy tests on the bathroom counter. We were beyond excited, and there was something kind of powerful about the two of us being the only ones who knew that I was carrying a child. I'm sure most other mothers can also remember how they felt on the day they found out they were pregnant. I don't ever want to forget those feelings. It was magical. Lily was loved and cherished from the very beginning. So, on the eight month anniversary, I am choosing to think only about that and nothing else because that makes me smile.

19 weeks and 3 days on a Sunday...again

Today, I am 19 weeks and 3 days pregnant. I was exactly 19 weeks and 3 days pregnant with Lily when she left the safety of my body and went to the glory of heaven. Last night, I kept thinking about that since I was in labor at the hospital at that point in my pregnancy with Lily. It would have been at 3:25 this morning that she was born, also on a Sunday. I woke up a few times throughout the night last night thinking about it. I've thought about it all day today. I've anticipated having these reminiscent thoughts on June 6, which will mark the one year anniversary of our baby's death. It has come as a surprise to me to have these feelings now, on a random cold day in January, but obviously this pregnancy has brought up a range of emotions that I experienced throughout my pregnancy with Lily.

I realized that our newest miracle is now older than Lily will ever be. I can no longer compare this pregnancy to my pregnancy with Lily because I stopped being pregnant at this point, so prematurely. I almost feel like I am leaving her behind. I've read many blogs of women who have gotten pregnant after the loss of a baby, and it seems that feelings of guilt are not that uncommon. I can't say that I feel guilty for being pregnant with this baby, but I do often wonder if this child would have ever been a part of our lives if Lily were here with us. It is a strange feeling. I want to love all of my children equally and unconditionally, and I believe that this child is a blessing and a miracle because Lily's life and death allowed her to be a part of our lives at this time.

I remember how unnatural it felt to be nearly 20 weeks pregnant with a swollen belly, walking into the hospital feeling as if I were facing my own death, then leaving not pregnant anymore. I sometimes wonder how I ever made it through that experience. I talked to myself trying to convince myself that I was strong enough and brave enough. I remember thinking that I wasn't emotionally prepared to be in labor that soon. I was only half way there. I can't imagine being in labor today because I should still have 20 weeks to prepare myself. In addition to the odd pregnancy dreams that are to be expected, I dream often about going into early labor and giving birth to a baby who has prematurely passed away.

I pray every week for God's will to be done as He sees fit, but meanwhile I selfishly hope for at least one more week with my child in my womb. The weeks have slowly added up, but I still have nearly 20 more to go, and that's a lot. What would have been the final 20 weeks of my pregnancy with Lily were spent grieving. At times it felt like time stood still, while other times, I couldn't believe how quickly my due date came and went. I have prayed more for my unborn child during this pregnancy than I did with either of my previous pregnancies, and it has brought me much needed peace, especially when I'm 19 weeks and 3 days.

18 weeks

I've been thinking a lot about Lily the last couple of weeks. I was 18 weeks pregnant with her when we learned the devastating news of her condition. I am 18 weeks pregnant with her sister now. It feels like a major emotional milestone for me to be at this point. Sometimes I perceive that others compare Lily's death to an early pregnancy miscarriage. I don't think of it that way at all. Not to minimize a miscarriage because I am certain that it is equally as devastating to lose a baby earlier in the pregnancy, but I didn't lose an embryo or just a fetus. I lost my daughter.


If you could see me now, you couldn't deny that I am growing a life in my womb. My pregnant belly is quite obvious. I can't disregard my daughter's existence merely because she has not been developing for 40 weeks. During these 18 weeks, she has grown limbs, fingers, toes, ears, eyes, a mouth, a nose, a brain, a heart, a stomach, kidneys, and the many other parts that make her human. She is here now, and I am remembering my feelings of guilt following that very memorable doctor's appointment during my pregnany with Lily. This time, I am reminding myself how fortunate I am to have had the last 18 weeks with my daughter. This time, I am embracing each day and each week as it comes, and feeling an overwhelming sense of gratitude.


I still wonder what things would have been like had Lily been a healthy baby girl. Obviously, I will never have the opportunity to have the answer to that, but I do know how my life has been blessed and enriched as a result of her 19 weeks of life, and this week, during my 18th week of pregnancy, I'm thinking of her a lot.

7 months and birthday cake

For the most part, I happily welcomed the new year this year. I've never really been one to get too excited about a new year. I'm not big on new year's resolutions or the idea of starting a new year fresh. I like to think of each day as a fresh start, no matter what year it is. This year was a little different. 2010 was not my best year, although, it also happens to be one I never want to forget. So, to see it come to an end was bittersweet.

We had a wonderful Christmas with our son despite the obvious hole in our family. Our son seems to understand the meaning of Christmas, which makes me proud. He knows that Christmas is Jesus' birthday, although he kept asking where Jesus is and whether there would be birthday cake involved. This gave us the opportunity to have an incredible conversation a few weeks ago. I tried to explain that Jesus is in his heart, but that didn't seem to satisfy his curious little mind. I went on to talk about Jesus being in heaven, and this intrigued him. His interest in heaven compelled me to share that Jesus is in heaven with Lily. I've been thinking more and more lately about how and when the time would be right to tell him about Lily, and now that he is aware that he will be having a baby sister, I'm thinking about it even more because I want him to know that she is not his only baby sister. Before Lily died, he was aware that there was a baby in my belly, and he had decided on his own that it was a girl. I've wondered recently if he thinks I am carrying the same baby that we've made mention to for nearly a year. I certainly don't want to confuse him by saying more than he can comprehend, but I also don't want to dismiss the life that she had when he was so aware of it. I have pointed out that his baby sister, Lily, is in heaven with Jesus, and his other baby sister is in my belly getting big and strong just to make sure he isn't confusing the two.

Who knew that the explanation about the meaning of Christmas would open the door to talk to my two year old about Lily. I had a feeling that when the time was right to talk to him about her, I would know it, and I'm so glad that it happened that way. It was heart warming to look into his big blue eyes as he listened very intently and nodded his head as I talked. He even asked to pray for Lily that night, which was incredibly touching since his recent prayer requests have been for things like the characters from Madagascar and Cars.

So, if Lily and Jesus were in heaven together on Jesus' birthday, do you think they shared birthday cake?

Owen thinks so, and who am I to argue with that? :)