I Can't Take Me Anywhere

I went to my friend Amanda's baby shower today and found myself inexplicably crying.

We're there celebrating her beautiful brand new baby girl, and I'm crying about my baby girl who died almost 7 years ago.

Yeah, I'm the life of the party.

It seems to be happening a lot lately.

*By continuing to read this you agree to abide by the following terms:

I will not openly mock Jessie for what she is about to divulge.

I will not utter the words 'I told you so', to her or in conversation about her.

I will try to stifle laughter and abstain from rolling my eyes.*

Yesterday I wrote about two, but three is what's really on my mind lately.

In a complete surprise to me, I cannot stop thinking about babies lately.

It's bittersweet.

I used to imagine that I would have three kids.

I did.

But one died.

So now I only have two one earth.

I thought we were done.

We took surgical methods.

But now I'm not so sure.

Even when we decided for Timm to have his vasectomy, the number three still floated around my head. Three kids, our family. Which we had. Now that I find myself thinking about babies, I can't decide what the reason is. Do I feel that something, someone is missing because there is? In other words, am I missing Lola, the missing member of our family, like I will for the rest of my life? Or am I missing the presence of another baby to have join us here in our earthly home? Does three refer to my 3 girls as they are, or to a third baby, which would actually be my fourth?

I am blindsided by this consideration of having another baby. Besides trying to figure out what the basis for this feeling is, there are logistics to complicate matters. Apparently a vasectomy reversal is actually quite expensive. Several thousand dollars expensive. And Timm is already convinced of the finality of our family as it currently consists. If I really do yearn for another baby, it seems I may suffer another loss. In addition to the loss of my first born child, I may now suffer the loss of infertility which was exacted by my own hand.

The truth is, no matter how many babies I filled my home with, I would always feel a void. Until my family is restored in heaven, there always will be a void. No babies could replace my Lola. But could another baby bring me added joy? It seems the decision may not be mine to make.
For at least a year after Lola died I couldn't see another baby without feeling acute pain and grief, and I've been vaguely efeling that way again lately.

I mourn the loss of my baby girl, and now I may mourn the impossibility of having another.

Motherhood is fraught with emotion, complexities, growth, surprises, and love. 

Always love.

I Missed You Today

(I told you I had a lot to say this Mother's Day. This is post # 5. I have one more coming still.)

Note to self- Don't Forget:

You never notice how many baby's graves are in the cemetery until you have buried one of your own.
Books are filled with stories of babies who die at or shortly after birth that make you shudder and put the book down, perhaps even throwing it.

I share a kinship with so many women through the ages-past, present and future- that I desperately wish I didn't.
Yet this kinship gives me my first born and my treasure laid up in Heaven. This kinship gives me compassion, empathy and strength I would have gained into no other way.

Thank you.

I miss you.

2018 Days

That's how long it's been since Lola died. Roughly 5 1/2 years. How did I get here? How did I get this far?
Why today? Why, tonight, of all nights, 5 1/2 years later, am I crying, missing my baby girl? Because of just that- she is my baby girl. She will always be my baby girl. And while it won't always hurt, it will always be there. The truth-the still truth- is that I lost my firstborn and that is irrevocable. For now anyway. For now I am left with my memories of her and the hope that I will see her again. That she is not lost to me forever.
I will always miss her, I will always be without her, I will always mourn her death.
But not always.

5 Years

It's hard to believe that Lola Jane would be 5 years old today.
The passage of time is such an odd and confusing concept- so long ago, a lifetime, myself a totally different person...yet how has 5 years passed already? What comprises 5 years of time? What experiences, challenges, changes, accomplishments, and shifts make up the entirety of 5 years of our lives? What has transpired to deliver us to who and where we are today?
So getting sealed in the temple, 5 more years of marriage, 2 more kids, graduating school, moving across country, buying our first house, getting a real job, starting a career,missing and connecting with loved ones, making and strengthening friendships...That has made up some of it.
This is the first year that I have not been in Utah on her birthday. It seems a bit strange, disconnected, but not necessarily depressing. Distant though.
We haven't done much today in remembrance- it's tricky because nobody else knows or remembers the significance of the day, a day that changed our lives, perspectives, and empathies forever. I don't' want to be macabre but I want to devote the proper reverence and appreciation it deserves. We are going to buy a flowering bush or tree that blooms this time every year as a beautiful reminder, perhaps a hydrangea since they grow so well here and I happen to adore them. Maybe replace an ailing camellia right next to our front door. We also got Cold Stone for a special treat which I am halfway regretting as we speak. I feel like I just spent an outrageous $12.84 (seriously-) to further derail my diet (post-vacation blues has done a number on me. It's been a week today.) and feel bloated and bad about myself. Woohoo. I decided that in years following I want to do a simple birthday cake. It's a simple, low-key, cheerful acknowledgement of the day, for what it should be. Celebration and remembrance.
I remember shortly after she died and I was wondering what life-purpose this experience held for me, since of course it's all about me, and I wondered if at least it would help me stay the course- if remembering that I had a perfect daughter in heaven waiting for me would inspire in me a lifetime of diligence and purposeful living. I don't know if that's true but I do reflect on it and sometimes wonder if I am making her proud. Most of the time I am afraid that I am not. I'm afraid that I would cause a lot of head-shaking, hand-wringing and sighs to say the least. I already fear disappointing those around me here on earth, let alone a perfect spirit watching my life and everything around me unfold in a frustrating ripple of oft-repeated mistakes. As I lamented this once to Michelle she reminded me that since I am a mortal I am not expected to be perfect...yet. I hope that's true as far as Lola is concerned, because otherwise I am surely a huge disappointment to my celestial daughter in heaven.
I wish I could believe that I must have inspired something worthy of mothering a perfect being like Lola, but I think instead she was born to me at least in part to inspire me to be worthy. Let me remember this throughout my life and perhaps I may prove worthy in the end.
I can't wait to meet her again. I know she is beautiful, awe-inspiring and I know she is amazing.
And I know she lives.

Pregnancy

This whole pregnancy I keep wondering if this is the last time I will do this. At most, we would have one more child after this one, little Fiona. In many ways I would like this to be our last child, and would relish that thought when infancy proves to be a trying time. I anticipate having 2 at home will be a big adjustment for me, and one that will probably take a long time for me to feel comfortable with. Unfortunately I do not adapt well to change, stress, or any kind of disruption or chaos, so I am realistic in my outlook for this transition. Having said that, it also makes me a little bit sad to think that this is the last baby I'll have. Obviously being 7 months pregnant is not really the time to determine how many more children I will have- that would be a very biased decision. Time will tell, and if we do have another one it will probably be spaced similarly to these two, so we're looking at over 3 1/2 years from now.
I will never take pregnancy for granted, but it is hard. Even as I say this, I recognize that mine are relatively easy, physically at least. Lola's pregnancy was pretty much cake, aside from the usual pregnancy complaints. I was pretty much psychotic during Bella's pregnancy, it being just 3 months after Lola died. The combination of post-partum and pregnancy hormones, as well as mourning made for an emotional train wreck. (Which I need no help with under the best of circumstances...) Not knowing why Lola died made my anxiety for Bella out of control. So emotionally, not a good experience. Physically, not my favorite either since I had 2 pregnancies back to back. Not having a baby to show for the first one made me feel like I was experiencing an elephant's gestation.
This one has been really stressful for financial reasons. So many times I wondered how we were actually going to bring this baby into the world. Getting pregnant this time was an act of faith. I did not feel ready, but also knew there was a very good chance that I would never feel ready. After being prompted for months I decided to heed the call. We thought we had made what financial provisions we could, but when that fell through we were in quite a bind. (That's another post for another time-) Now we've been blessed to get Medicaid even though we were initially denied (another post-), so the financial aspect is taken care of.
Still, even in the best of circumstances, pregnancy is hard, and I find that they really do get harder each time. Each pregnancy has been significantly harder than the last, and it doesn't help that I started this one overweight and out of shape. I will be glad to call an end to this pregnancy, though that in no way means I am ready to actually have a baby yet!


All said- I do not take pregnancy for granted. I know it is nothing short of a miracle to bring a healthy baby into this world. It is an amazing experience, and one I am blessed to have done 3 times now- feeling your baby move within you and the bond you create with your unborn child cannot be matched or adequately described. I do love the opportunity women are given to give life to a child- I just don't know if I will do it a 4th time. If I do, it won't be anytime soon. I'm going to try and focus on getting Fiona here safely, and when parenting 2 small children gets the best of me, I can comfort myself during the stressful periods by telling myself 'this is the last time you have to/get to do this.' Whether or not that is true remains to be seen...

p.s. After Tasha asked about my registry, I did decide to register for a few things at Target too. As long as you're pretend-shopping, you might as well go all out, right? I like to pretend.

4 Years

Today was Lola Jane's 4th Birthday. It's hard to know what to say, except the obvious. It was a hard day. I've never been pregnant over her birthday, and it makes a difference. It's never a great day, and comes with varying degrees of emotion, mourning, and reflection. In anticipation of this day I was already a little nervous, though very grateful that I am here in Utah to commemorate it. When she died we decided to bury her in the Orem cemetery because of it's proximity to Shell's house (only a couple of blocks). We didn't know where we would end up, but knew that Shell would likely be here for a while. I'm glad we did. I'm also glad that I had Shell here to share the burden with. Timm and Shell were the only ones present when we found out that she had died, and also some of the very few who held her.{My 3 girls.}

Being pregnant again on this emotionally-charged day was a challenge. Knowing I am carrying another girl made it a bit too close to home as well. Surging hormones brought all of my fears, disappointments, and heartaches to the surface. It was surreal to think that it had been four years- that I was there with my 3-year old little girl, and my newest little girl in utero. How did I get to be that person who would have 3 babies in 4 years? Unforeseen circumstances, I suppose.

Time has helped ease the wounds, and softened the raw edges of my pain, but the sting remains. Especially today. I know others will forget, that the memory and impact of her life and death with fade and even disappear for others, but for me- I will always remember. She will always be my baby girl, my first born, my sweetest baby girl who waits and watches over. The significance of her brief life is not diminished by the years or the fleeting time I held her.
Today I miss her, I love her, and I am forever grateful for her life and it's influence on mine. i would do it all again, but I hope I don't have to.

Mother's Day

Today is simple. I have a cold. To a degree, all of us are sick today. I have poison ivy all over my body, including my face. This on top of my regular pregnancy discomforts. I had to stay home from church today for the fourth week in a row due to illnesses in Bella or I. But- today I am thankful for all of the amazing examples of motherhood in my life, all of whom I aspire to be more like. Namely:
my dear grandmother, Charlotte, who has always been one of my best friends and examples.

My mother who continues to care for me like her baby and exemplify Christlike attitudes. My own sister and mother who both inspire me to be better, in every way...

Who also mother my own darling Bella so well.
All of the women in my life who exemplify motherhood and illustrate why it is woman's highest calling and show what a difference a good woman can make. I don't have pictures for all of these women, but they include my personal friends, church leaders, aunts, in-laws, and those I only read about.
I am grateful for my firstborn Lola Jane, who waits for me, inspires me, and doubtless shakes her head at me.

(9 months pregnant with Lola)

My sweetest girl, Isabella Grace, who while in a sometimes frustrating stage of toddler-hood still inspires daily laughter, appreciation, wonder, happiness, and goodness. In daily practice, she makes me understand what motherhood is really about and why we are here to do what we do.
And lastly, my little avocado, who at nearly 17 weeks still resides safely in my womb waiting to make his or her appearance. My little Simon or Fiona. Can't wait to feel those regular, reassuring movements, especially until I see a doctor.
So with the disappointments that invariably come with the 'holiday' of Mother's Day, motherhood being emotionally-charged and fraught with challenges, I choose to be grateful for these women and girls.

Not Again...

So last night I had the first, but probably not the last, disturbing dream about this new baby. I'm sure every pregnant woman has these fears and thoughts either in the fore-front or the back of her mind, but apparently mine run deep. I don't feel any abnormal apprehension about the health of safety of this baby- more of a 'what are the chances?' kind of attitude that I've had my share of heartache in this area and am likely to be passed over this time. But, my subconscious proves otherwise.
True to the nature of pregnancy dreams, this was very vivid and very startling. As far as I can recall now that the details have fuzzed over a little bit, I awoke in the hospital, unaware of what I was doing there. Turned out that I was a lot farther along than I thought, and I had delivered my baby, a girl, at something like 24 weeks. I remember that she weighed 4 pounds, which is pretty amazing for a 24-week old baby. I didn't know that I had delivered, let alone why, and was angry that they couldn't, or didn't stop the labor. The nurses kept hedging me and talking in circles until I screamed 'What happened?!?!' and then they told me that my baby died. She had lived for a few hours, but was too small to survive. (Apparently I was unconscious or something, due to the emergency state of things.)
I was sobbing and inconsolable, and I demanded to be taken to her. For some reason in the dream, instead I held a small plaster cast of her body. I just remember wailing: "Not again! I can't do this again! Not again....."
The fact that like Lola, there was no discernible reason for her death was alarming as well. It woke me from my sleep and I was obviously disturbed by it. Bella's pregnancy was plagued with these kinds of dreams. I hope I'm not in for that this time- I thought I was past that stage. Old habits die hard, I guess. I will refrain however, from choosing this baby's burial clothes in advance.
Only half-kidding.
Sorry, this came out more dismal than I intended! It's a good thing our subconscious is kept in the background, eh?