Ugh...

That's about the word of the day today. Apparently I spoke too soon about my body healing. It seems to be just as messed up as my head is today. I guess it kind of does the same thing, a few good days and then *bam!*, it reverts back to it's total confusion too. I was totally exhausted upon being woken up this morning by little R yelling "wake up K, wake up Dora, wake up mommy, wake up daddy!", then I realized that I was bleeding again, my eyes were leaking tears... as was my chest. Ugh. Fun times.

I have found that just sucking it up and letting those emotions drag me down for a little bit actually helps. It's the days that I try to fight it that everything just pushes back harder and harder until I break. This morning I just figured I'd have a guilt-free cup of coffee and do some therapeutic reading and try to move on with my day. I sit here on the couch (which is becoming quite uncomfortable) and realize that all I want to do is purge. Of course, I would be more effective if I had some energy so that's probably not going to happen for a while but that makes me frustrated too. I have found that setting tiny goals for the day makes it easier to get by. Instead of "cleaning the house" or even "doing laundry" I have to focus on small parts of that. Maybe the mission for the afternoon will be to pick up the shoes and coats on the back porch and put them away or just get the laundry sorted. I should open the windows and let the breeze blow through the house since it IS sunny again for right now at least.

Ugh... anyway not only is tomorrow a new day, 1:00 will be a new hour (1 week, 2 days and 12 hours later...)

Home...

He's home.

Well, in a way.

He was "home" in the early hours of February 18th before his body ever left mine, but his ashes are home, here with us. I thought it would feel "final"... really, it just feels kind of odd. I find it strange how all these gigantic dreams that we had for this little baby just seem to be diminished to tiny mementos. I am just so thankful that I do have things that are tangible. It's interesting when photos become tangible memories. The love for Eli stretches across the oceans... the photo below was written on the beaches of Europe thanks to his auntie and uncle.

Today was a very nice day here, around 65 degrees, sunny and even warmer in the direct sunshine. I went outside for awhile and just sat in my lawn chair and soaked up the sun... it felt good. The last time I sat in that chair was Sunday and had started to wonder why I wasn't feeling the activity, from the baby, that I normally felt. I had no idea what a difference a week was going to make in my life.

While I was out there, 4 year old K and I walked around the yard while she pointed out all of the plants that were starting to poke out of the dull brown dirt. Leave it to a kid to keep things in perspective. I then thought how interesting it is that with so many of our plants, we have to cut them all the way down to the point that you have to just have faith that they'll spring up and show life again... and they always do. I guess that would be life imitating... life?

Healing...

Well, my body seems to be healing itself. A big part of me feels really good about that but a little part of me is kind of sad about it. I guess it feels more "final" as I see the numbers on the scale reach my pre-pregnancy weight, my 'fat' pants getting too big, my bras fitting like normal, silly stuff like that. Those things are all reasons to celebrate after you have a baby but when you don't have your baby those things are all reminders of what you've lost. Well, it seems that way to me, at least. I have had lots of thoughts about Eli and all of them, very jumbled. Sleeping has been very strange. I would much rather sleep without dreaming right now. Luckily the dreams aren't near as disturbing as they were when I was in the hospital but they're still just not "right". I'll spare the details right now but I had a few dreams while in the hospital that will probably haunt me for life.

On a positive note, we did receive Eli's photos yesterday and they are beautiful, to us at least, and that's what matters. In the post below I took a quick pic of one of the photos and edited it slightly. It's a strange feeling, wanting to share Eli with everyone but knowing most people can't handle it.

I'm also thinking about a small garden spot in our yard this year for some plants and flowers... just a place where I can look and see life, something growing. However, that in itself almost makes me laugh. You would understand this if you know about our constant battle with deer in our yard. They.Eat. Everything! We have apple trees, yet they'll eat all of my snapdragons in one pass. We have pear trees, but they can plow down an entire bed of petunia's in no time flat. I've really got to wonder how that will impact my heart to put time, love and effort into a flower bed for Eli just to have it munched down. Not sure about that yet. I'm also hoping for some middle ground, a way to remember and heal without dwelling or dragging myself down. But seriously, deer, come on! You have 40 acres of lush green fields... please don't eat Eli's flowers.

Well, in the middle of these ramblings, the funeral home called. Eli's urn is ready. I'll be glad to have him home with us and have that last bit of physical "stuff" behind us. I've kind of been feeling like I should be taking a more spiritual approach to this journey but at this point... eh, I'm not. What has happened has not changed my beliefs or made me bitter... I'm sure that will come at some point in the grief process but not now.

I know I had some more random thoughts... that's kind of the way I've always been... so I'm sure I'll be back when the kiddos are napping with some more thoughts for today. It's nice to get them out and not having them tangle themselves together inside my brain and heart.

Perfect...

So that's the preliminary word. Eli was perfect in every way except he isn't here with me. There seems to be no reason (thus far) for why his heart stopped beating. That's frustrating to me. I was hoping we would go in today and the results would show that there was something very wrong, that there was no way he could have lived outside of me, that it was just some freak occurrence, but for now, I do not have that. However, we could have told you that... we studied every inch of his tiny body over and over again, and he was just perfect and peaceful. He had perfect hands with long fingers that just had a way of crossing themselves across his chest.

The genetic results will not be available for about 3 weeks or so. That's going to seem like a long time but I hope for some sort of answer or reason before we decide which road to next take. My appointment this morning was very short, my blood pressure was great so once my blood count goes back up, I should start feeling stronger. My body seems to be healing much faster than my heart will but on this crazy roller coaster today is a dip in the ride. I woke up this morning knowing that I would be in a waiting room full of pregnant women - I was right. I was hoping to get some closure from the preliminary pathology - I didn't. Eli's ashes were supposed to be ready for us to pick up today - they weren't. So, yah, it's a dip in the ride. After we got home from the appointment, we received a call from one of our L&D nurse's, Darcy, that the professional photos of Eli were ready to pick up. I like her. She's about our age (with a 5 year old girl and a 3 year old boy) and I'll never forget that when she took Eli from us for the last time she said "...come on buddy...". I guess it's the little things and treating him like he was a tiny person ended up being a big thing to me. Jim had to go back in to town on his day off to fix a machine at work so he's going to pick the photos up on his way home. I'm very nervous to see them, excited but nervous. I'm afraid that they won't show my beautiful baby boy the same way that I saw him. Amy, the photographer, does stunning work though so I'm hopeful.

My thoughts are very jumbled today so until I get it together a bit more, that'll be it.

The Long Story....

So this is the long story... I guess I'm hoping the more times I see it or say it, the easier it will get. At this point that seems pretty far fetched.

Back to the beginning. My husband and I have always discussed having three kids. We had decided that we would space #3 a ways out from the first two... maybe when our youngest was about 4, we would go for a third. We don't get, or stay, pregnant easily. We started trying to "grow" a family in December of 1999 after our July wedding. It wasn't happening... at all... but after a few years, and clomid, we were thrilled to finally find ourselves pregnant in August of 2001. After 12 1/2 uneventful weeks, we were told that our baby had no heart beat and had stopped developing at around 10 weeks. A week later I had a medical procedure called a D&C to remove that baby since my body would not let it go. It was a very difficult recovery, emotionally, especially with Sept. 11th still being so fresh in every one's minds. We took a fair break, 6 months or so, and then started trying again. In August of 2002 we were thrilled but very cautious when we finally saw those two beautiful lines on a home pregnancy test. Several days later I headed to the lab at the hospital and waited for the call from the OB's office. The call came in and the nurses words were "I would be negligent if I told you that you were going to have a healthy pregnancy. If you haven't started bleeding in about a week, give us a call and we'll recheck your numbers but it doesn't look promising." ... that was August 12th... I was about 6 1/2 weeks when my miscarriage started and it was crushing. It's not all bad news though.

In April 2003 we were FINALLY pregnant again and on New Year's Day 2004, we brought a beautiful, perfect 8# 4oz. baby girl into the world. While taking Christmas photos, right around Thanksgiving weekend, my husband said to me "Maybe next year, there'll be 4 of us in the Christmas photo." The next Monday I called my OB to start the Rx's so that maybe we could get pregnant again... and we prayed and crossed our fingers. Round one was a bust but round two took! I knew by President's Day weekend that I was pregnant again. I kept the information to myself, then took three home pregnancy tests over the following week and finally told my husband "yah, know... I think I've decided that we're pregnant." He just looked at me and said "You've decided???" The blood test confirmed it and we were given an estimated due date of November 1st. That pregnancy was a little more "exciting" with a positive AFP screen but we declined any more testing and at 37 weeks, our son was born perfectly healthy at 7# 4oz.

But back to the current events... In late November of 2007 I realized that my period was late. I nervously asked my hubby to bring home both a pregnancy test and a box of tampons, so as not to tip the scales of fate. Well, in no time there were two pink lines staring back at me and panic set in... this wasn't planned - and I plan everything! After a few days of panic about car seats and bedroom arrangements we were ready to go! Interestingly enough, my OB's office never ordered an HCG count, we went in for our nurses appointment and scheduled a dating ultrasound since I knew that the dates would be off. At the ultrasound I saw the tiny beating heart of my third child at 6 weeks 4 days. The rest of the days and appointments were uneventful. I had an appointment 2 weeks later and we picked up the heart beat with doppler at the office. At this point I searched and purchased a doppler for use at home. I did this for several reasons... one, I was totally paranoid about this pregnancy from the start and two, I wanted my husband and children to be able to experience listening to the tiny life inside of me.

At around 14 weeks I started feeling our tiny little baby moving inside of me and it was wonderful! The heartbeat was strong every night. We would listen for a few minutes each night and the heart rate was always in the 170's. It was so reassuring to get to listen to that tiny heart. Saturday, February 16th the baby was kicking and the heartbeat was in the 150's... kind of low for that kiddo but we figured the baby was sleeping. Sunday morning I woke up and it was a beautiful sunny day but I just didn't feel it. We were discussing coming home outfits and what it the world you bring a baby home in in July or August - it's so hot! The baby, normally, was quite active in the late morning but that day, not so much. I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind but around 4 pm I couldn't take it any more... I had to be reassured so I asked my husband to bring me the doppler... silence... no thumping from kicks, no heartbeat... at least not one that resembled the heart beat of my baby. I could hear blood flow and my racing heart but no baby. I drank water, I checked. I drank juice, I checked. I laid on my side, I checked. I went upstairs where it was quiet and I cried and I checked. Every once in a while I would hear something that was "maybe" baby but then it was gone again. I took a bath and cried and afterwards I checked some more. Still, nothing. That night around 6:30 - I called L&D, trying to hold it together but since I wasn't yet 20 weeks, they wouldn't see me and since I wasn't bleeding the ER wouldn't see me either. We went to bed and I checked for about 2 more hours... but nothing. I tried to sleep but I couldn't. I ended up downstairs on the couch and I laid there and cried. I prayed and cried myself to sleep for about an hour and woke around 3:30 am, grabbed the doppler again, still nothing. There was a heartbeat that I picked up but it was slower than mine. I decided to put it down and put my hand back on my tummy and prayed some more. At that point I know I felt his last kick. I cried myself back to a very restless sleep for a little while waking around 6 am just waiting for the minutes to tick by so I could call my Dr's office.

I think they thought they were humoring me by allowing me to come in at 11 am for a fetal heart tone check. As soon as the Dr. placed the doppler on my stomach I knew. Though I had prayed that my doppler was broken, it wasn't. I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. The Dr. stepped out of the room to bring in the portable ultrasound machine. There on the screen was my perfect baby... perfectly still. The tears started to come harder. He stepped out of the room to speak with the ultrasound tech and they told me to call my husband, who was home with the kids, and anyone else that I needed to. I called my husband first to tell him the news and then my mom. The next step was to head back to the "better equipment" for a better look. It was obvious to me that the life that had been there, was gone.

Back in the consultation room the Dr. told me that the initial results looked as if the baby had a mass on it's brain and that I'd have to make an appointment to discuss our "options" with my Dr. the next morning. What a long day, driving myself home, waiting for my mom to arrive so we'd have someone to watch our kids, watching my husband go off to work for the evening, all the while knowing that our baby was no longer with us.

Tuesday morning we met with my Dr. This time I was told "we don't know why this happens, it was probably just some chromosomal defect that you had no control over..." nearly the same speech that we'd been given 6 years earlier during our first loss. All three of us decided that labor induction and delivery would be the safest. We went directly over to L&D at the hospital and started the surreal process. After paperwork was completed the induction started around 11:30 am. We were both exhausted and my nurse begged us to sleep but it just wasn't happening. I asked for some Tylenol for the raging headache that I had from lack of sleep and lots of crying. She brought me a Valium too.

By 8pm my contractions were getting to the point that I could tell that they were doing "something" and my new nurse kept offering me pain meds. I finally agreed but since the Fentanyl made me sick to my stomach, she and the anesthesiologist decided an epidural would be the best. Plus, if I needed a D&C on top of the induced delivery, we would be able to use it for pain control and not waste time. Shortly before the epidural, I started bleeding and then my water broke. I do have to say it wasn't the best epidural of my life but it took the edge off the pain. With zero effort, our son, Eli was born sleeping at 1:04 am on Wednesday, February 20th, 2008. We got to spend time with him, look at him, touch him, hold him... he looked perfect to us. I know that I will never forget how perfect his hands and feet were. The nurse wrapped him up and took some photos for us. Our time was limited at that point since I was still bleeding, before surgery I had already lost about 2 liters of blood and my placenta still hadn't detached so it was off for a D&C at 3:30 am. I don't know how long it took but I do know that around 5:30 am I finally registered what time it was. I tried to sleep a bit and woke around 7 am feeling very empty.

I buzzed the nurse so I could get up and use the bathroom and promptly passed out. When I came to there were about 6 nurses in my room they cranked up my IV and hooked up the oxygen. I laid there for nearly an hour, I suppose, in and out of sleep. Throughout the morning the social worker was in and out to confirm our requests, the nurses were in and out checking on me, delivery mementos like the tiny castings of Eli's feet and asking if we would like a photographer to come in a take photos. I know some of that may sound weird to some but I would so much rather have too many memories of Eli than to have regrets of not having anything to remember him by.

I was released to go home around 4:30 in the afternoon on the 20th. It was so hard to come home empty handed but I had no choice. I cradled Eli's memory box in my lap as Darcy wheeled me out to our car. We said our goodbyes and started the long drive home.

I Guess it all Starts Here...

Well, I guess it all starts here...

I wish it didn't have to.
I wish I was in the middle of a very boring pregnancy...
but I'm not. Instead, I'm trying to come to grips with the loss of my sweet baby boy Eli who entered my arms without a breath after living inside my womb for 16 weeks 3 days.

Eli's Story...

Here's Eli's story, mostly taken from my blog entry a week after I delivered him...

In late November of 2007 I realized that my period was late. I nervously asked my hubby to bring home both a pregnancy test and a box of tampons, so as not to tip the scales of fate. Well, in no time there were two pink lines staring back at me and panic set in... this wasn't planned - and I plan everything! After a few days of panic about car seats and bedroom arrangements we were ready to go! Interestingly enough, my OB's office never ordered an HCG count, we went in for our nurses appointment and scheduled a dating ultrasound since I knew that the dates would be off. At the ultrasound I saw the tiny beating heart of my third child who was measuring 6 weeks 4 days. The rest of the days and appointments were uneventful. I had an appointment 2 weeks later and we picked up the heart beat with doppler at the office. At this point I searched and purchased a doppler for use at home. I did this for several reasons... one, I was totally paranoid about this pregnancy from the start and two, I wanted my husband and children to be able to experience listening to the tiny life inside of me.

At around 14 weeks I started feeling our tiny little baby moving inside of me and it was wonderful! The heartbeat was strong every night. We would listen for a few minutes each night and the heart rate was always in the 170's. It was so reassuring to get to listen to that tiny heart. Saturday, February 16th the baby was kicking and the heartbeat was in the 150's... kind of low for that kiddo but we figured the baby was sleeping. Sunday morning I woke up and it was a beautiful sunny day but I just didn't feel it. We were discussing coming home outfits and what it the world you bring a baby home in in July or August - it's so hot! The baby, normally, was quite active in the late morning but that day, not so much. I tried to push the thoughts out of my mind but around 4 pm I couldn't take it any more... I had to be reassured so I asked my husband to bring me the doppler... silence... no thumping from kicks, no heartbeat... at least not one that resembled the heart beat of my baby. I could hear blood flow and my racing heart but no baby. I drank water, I checked. I drank juice, I checked. I laid on my side, I checked. I went upstairs where it was quiet and I cried and I checked. Every once in a while I would hear something that was "maybe" baby but then it was gone again. I took a bath and cried and afterwards I checked some more. Still, nothing. That night around 6:30 - I called L&D, trying to hold it together but since I wasn't yet 20 weeks, they wouldn't see me and the nurse who answered the phone said since I wasn't bleeding the ER wouldn't see me either. [I now know that statement was untrue...] We went to bed and I checked for about 2 more hours... but nothing. I tried to sleep but I couldn't. I ended up downstairs on the couch and I laid there and cried. I prayed and cried myself into a restless sleep for about an hour and woke around 3:30 am, grabbed the doppler again, still nothing. There was a heartbeat that I picked up but it was slower than mine. I decided to put it down and put my hand back on my tummy and prayed some more. At that point I know I felt his last kick. I cried myself back to a very restless sleep for a little while waking around 6 am just waiting for the minutes to tick by so I could call my Dr's office.

I think they thought they were humoring me by allowing me to come in at 11 am for a fetal heart tones check. As soon as the Dr. placed the doppler on my stomach I knew. Though I had prayed that my doppler was broken, it wasn't. I could feel the tears streaming down my cheeks. The Dr. stepped out of the room to bring in the portable ultrasound machine. There on the screen was my perfect baby... perfectly still. The tears started to come harder but silently. He stepped out of the room to speak with the ultrasound tech and they told me to call my husband, who was home with the kids, and anyone else that I needed to. I called Jim first to tell him the news that I already knew in my heart and then I called my mom. I still don't know how I was able to get the words out but when she answered, she knew what I was trying to say. The next step was to head back to the "better equipment" for a better look. But, it was obvious to me that the life that had been there, was gone. [I asked at that time if she could tell what the gender was. She told me that there was "nothing to indicate a baby boy, baby is a girl...]

Back in the consultation room Dr. C told me that the initial results looked as if the baby had a mass on it's brain and that I'd have to make an appointment to discuss our "options" with my Dr. the next morning. What a long day, driving myself home, waiting for my mom to arrive so we'd have someone to watch our kids, watching my husband go off to work for the evening, all the while knowing that our baby was no longer with us.

Tuesday morning we met with my Dr. This time I was told "we don't know why this happens, it was probably just some chromosomal defect that you had no control over..." nearly the same speech that we'd been given 6 years earlier during our first loss. All three of us decided that labor induction and delivery would be the safest. We went directly over to L&D at the hospital and started the surreal process. I was tucked away in a private room in the back corner away from all the happy families there that beautiful winter day. After paperwork was completed the induction started around 11:30 am. We were both exhausted and my nurse begged us to sleep but it just wasn't happening. I asked her for some Tylenol for the raging headache that I had from lack of sleep and lots of crying. She brought me a Valium too. She told me that I could have anything that I wanted for pain, emotional and/or physical, but I was still in the frame of mind where 'Tylenol is the only thing safe for baby...'

By 8pm my contractions were getting to the point that I could tell that they were doing "something" and my new shift nurse kept offering me pain meds. [All the while we were watching American Idol, trying to keep our minds off of why we were even in the hospital at that point in time.] I finally agreed but since the Fentanyl made me sick to my stomach, she and the anesthesiologist decided an epidural would be the best. Plus, if I needed a D&C on top of the induced delivery, we would be able to use it for pain control and not waste time. Shortly before the epidural, I started bleeding and then my water broke. I do have to say it wasn't the best epidural of my life [and the anesthesiologist was a jerk to my nurse] but it took the edge off the pain. With zero effort, our son, Eli was born sleeping at 1:04 am on Wednesday, February 20th, 2008. We got to spend time with him, look at him, touch him, hold him... he looked perfect to us. [and it turns out, he was] I know that I will never forget how perfect his hands and feet were. The nurse wrapped him up and took some photos for us. [I wish I would have taken my camera that morning because I really wanted to be the one to take photos of our baby. I had had it in my hand and put it down, maybe in an effort to not admit what I really knew.] Our time was limited at that point since I was still bleeding. Before surgery I had already lost about 2 liters of blood and my placenta still hadn't detached so it was off for a D&C at 3:30 am. I don't know how long it all took but I do know that around 5:30 am I finally registered what time it was and I was back in my room. I tried to sleep a bit and woke around 7 am feeling very, very empty.

I buzzed the nurse so I could get up and use the bathroom. They try to avoid giving blood product as long as possible and just hang bags and bags of fluid. I got up fine, got into the bathroom fine with the help of my nurse who was asking me how I was doing and that's when the black walls started to close in on me and I promptly passed out. I remember her yelling for Jim's help and some how he was able to make it there in time to roll me gently to the floor. When I came to, I remember babbling something about a circus (who knows!?) and there were about 6 nurses in my room. They cranked up my IV and hooked up the oxygen. I laid there for nearly an hour, I suppose, in and out of sleep that was much like the movie sequence where you blink and time passes quickly while your eyes are closed. Much of the rest of the morning was very foggy thanks to that incident but the social worker was in and out to confirm our requests, the nurses were in and out checking on me - physically and emotionally, providing us delivery mementos like the tiny castings of Eli's feet and asking if we would like a photographer to come in and take some personal/professional photos. I know some of that may sound weird to some but I would so much rather have too many memories of Eli than to have the regrets of not having anything to remember him by.

I was released to go home around 4:30 in the afternoon on the 20th. It was so hard to come home empty handed but I had no choice. I cradled Eli's memory box in my lap as Darcy [a totally sweet nurse for the afternoon shift] wheeled me out to our car. We said our goodbyes and started the long, quiet, unreal drive home.

Eli was with us, in body, for 16 weeks, 3 days.