the past two nights, I slept 14 and then 12 hours. Now, it's after 8am Sunday morning, and I havent slept yet. I want to go to church at 11. But maybe I should just stay awake and go at 9:30. then waste the rest of the afternoon and evening asleep. oh wait, i forgot, i dont care. every day is a waste without kathlyn, awake or asleep.
i claim that i "never have trouble sleeping" so i'm very unnerved right now. normally, i can sleep in noisy broad daylight no matter how long i've already been asleep or how long i've been awake. so i figured maybe writing will be enough of a release to make me tired.
once again, there has been a large space since my last note. i dont really have anything new to say anymore. i want my babies. im afraid john is going to die. i hate the universe. the CD is on repeat.
i also had a disappointing occurance at work which caused a massive facebook friend purge. im not getting into details because this isnt high school, but basically it was time for the professional and personal line to be cut. i share my deepest and darkest here, which is something i've become fabulous at hiding in front of my patients and families at work. it became apparent that i needed to be better at hiding it from the co-workers, as it was making some of them uncomfortable. poor souls! kathlyn's death was really hard on them! that's too bad they were uncomfortable with my sad affect at work. it's been really hard for me too. i hope it's all better now.
except it's hard for me *everywhere*. they are uncomfortable at work, then get to go be comfortable in their perfect lives at home and i get to struggle with sleeping too much or not at all.
sarcasm is the 8th stage of grief. actually, it's a subset of anger.
i've typed that before. CD still on repeat.
i dont know what else to say. i still live with my raw truth daily, fighting demons hourly. and now that it's becoming time to start trying again, the stress level is rising even more. john and i were doing our grocery shopping (on a saturday night, how boring are we) and as we were loading the car, suddenly i became royal and snapped at him for no reason. i apologized later in the car, saying that i want to start trying again but im so afraid the baby will die. im terribly conflicted. this is more than a control issue. more than a faith issue. more than a desire. more than grief. more than heartbreak.
i dont know *what* it is.
oh, and when i want your opinion, on whether i should start trying again now or wait, i'll give it to you.
sincerely,
sleepless in stage 8
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Sunday, May 30, 2010
one
Only 1 pink line.
It's ok. I took it pretty well, considering my usual reaction to disappointing news. Probably because I'm 99% sure I still ovulated, so at least my body did something right. And because medically, I should wait one more month anyway.
What's more disappointing is that today marks 10 months. So many mommies of fullterm stillborns have their rainbow around the same time they lost the first one the year before. And I'm not even gonna be PREGNANT by a year later!? Ugh. And don't tell me not to compare. Because if I was comparing in the opposite direction and saying "well, thank goodness I havent had 2 and 3 fullterm stillborns like some people" then I'd be told "see, good girl, always look at the positives and count your blessings." Hm. No. If I can't compare, then I can't compare positive or negative. But honestly, I can't help my feelings, no matter whether you tell me I "should" or not. I'm comparing.. and I want an easier time having my rainbow than I've had. I don't think that's too much to friggin ask. Then again, I didnt think my healthy firstborn daughter was too much to ask for either, but I was horribly mistaken. And my poor little Cherry girl didn't even stand a 2nd trimester chance :,(
Also disappointing that I have ZERO possibility of having a baby in 2010 unless I have a micropreemie, and no one would be dumb enough to wish for that (although it would rank in comparision to another one dying). I was supposed to have a baby mid-2009, and now I'm not having one until 2011, or later? What is that?!
No selling angry here, we're all stocked up.
It's ok. I took it pretty well, considering my usual reaction to disappointing news. Probably because I'm 99% sure I still ovulated, so at least my body did something right. And because medically, I should wait one more month anyway.
What's more disappointing is that today marks 10 months. So many mommies of fullterm stillborns have their rainbow around the same time they lost the first one the year before. And I'm not even gonna be PREGNANT by a year later!? Ugh. And don't tell me not to compare. Because if I was comparing in the opposite direction and saying "well, thank goodness I havent had 2 and 3 fullterm stillborns like some people" then I'd be told "see, good girl, always look at the positives and count your blessings." Hm. No. If I can't compare, then I can't compare positive or negative. But honestly, I can't help my feelings, no matter whether you tell me I "should" or not. I'm comparing.. and I want an easier time having my rainbow than I've had. I don't think that's too much to friggin ask. Then again, I didnt think my healthy firstborn daughter was too much to ask for either, but I was horribly mistaken. And my poor little Cherry girl didn't even stand a 2nd trimester chance :,(
Also disappointing that I have ZERO possibility of having a baby in 2010 unless I have a micropreemie, and no one would be dumb enough to wish for that (although it would rank in comparision to another one dying). I was supposed to have a baby mid-2009, and now I'm not having one until 2011, or later? What is that?!
No selling angry here, we're all stocked up.
Thursday, May 20, 2010
Thursday, April 22, 2010
my heartbreak on top...
I have been awake for 29 hours. I really have no idea what is keeping me from completely falling out right now. I think it's because I know when I put down the computer, I will be alone.
Please don't be alarmed. I am safe in this house. Just heartbroken, ripped from the inside by the emotional pieces. It's a familiar feeling, but that doesn't make it any less raw.
I had a peaceful night working in the NICU. I held a sweet baby girl and smiled instead of cried for what might have been. She slept comfortably swaddled on me for a long time.
I was asked to go to employee health after my shift since I missed so many days in a row. I had to have paperwork signed by my manager and one of the CEOs, approving yet another leave of absence. My medical leave was exhausted as maternity leave last fall, now my manager allows me to take the time off as personal leave. I am blessed that he allows me to do this. I've lost so much; I dont want to lose my job too, holding those babies, making them feel better, making me feel better.
I met with my counselor at Kindermourn after employee health. She wants to see me at minimum once a week, and gave me every phone number she has. She will meet me at the office at any hour of any day if I need her to. She knows she doesn't work a 9 to 5. She's always on duty. She will not rest until I am "out of this" (her words).
I went back to work to have my papers signed and to catch up with one of the assistant managers and one of my coworkers. They listened. I crave that. Tell me you are heartbroken with me. I need to hear it outloud.
I drove home in a daze, the bright sunlight somehow not squinting me into sleep on the highway.
A message from the doctor waiting for me when I got home. A nurse, not the one I know best, but the one who needs to take some ativan herself, told me that the pathology was normal. It was halfway official: my baby, yet again, died for no reason. I braced for the news of the gender of my precious baby.. this is it.. alone, without John, I was about to find out. But the news wasnt available. I asked her to please ensure that the chromosomes were sent as well so I could find out later. Chromosomes tell us if we need to be tested for anything, along with the gender of our sweet little cherry.
Still awake. Waiting for the call back. Organizing Kathlyn's Walk on Saturday. Honoring my baby keeps me going.
I got the call back, this time from the nurse I'm comfortable with. There wasn't enough tissue to send for chromosomes.
There is no limit to how many times my heart can shatter.
We had decided not to name the baby when we found out, but I still wanted to know.
I know though, I know it was a girl. I know she was healthy. I know she died, just like her sister, for no reason in particular. Just the wrong end of the odds, an unsafe place, once again.
I wanted to be told though, I wanted the medical proof that her chromosomes were normal and that we could proceed into loving and creating and planning for our third child without any increased risk of miscarriage or stillbirth. No more tests. No more statistics, no more risk factors.
I wanted to hear, "it's a girl."
I know in my heart, this was another daughter, and that will have to be enough. It's never enough, never ever will be enough.
My sweet little girls, I'm so sorry. I am suffering so much, but you will never have to. I'm doing two extra lifetimes worth of suffering, just for you. Take good care of each other. Sleep tight and wait for me. My little cherry on top, I'm so sorry I didn't get to know you better. I loved you, I wanted you, I grieve for you, don't you ever think that I'm only grieving your big sissy... you have a special place in my heart too. There are tears shed just for you, tears for Kathlyn, and tears for both of you together, and my poor broken and overeducated heart can tell which are which.
There are so many broken hearts out there too, little one, broken hearts that prayed for hours over you, broken hearts who smile and think of you when they see cherries now.
Please don't be alarmed. I am safe in this house. Just heartbroken, ripped from the inside by the emotional pieces. It's a familiar feeling, but that doesn't make it any less raw.
I had a peaceful night working in the NICU. I held a sweet baby girl and smiled instead of cried for what might have been. She slept comfortably swaddled on me for a long time.
I was asked to go to employee health after my shift since I missed so many days in a row. I had to have paperwork signed by my manager and one of the CEOs, approving yet another leave of absence. My medical leave was exhausted as maternity leave last fall, now my manager allows me to take the time off as personal leave. I am blessed that he allows me to do this. I've lost so much; I dont want to lose my job too, holding those babies, making them feel better, making me feel better.
I met with my counselor at Kindermourn after employee health. She wants to see me at minimum once a week, and gave me every phone number she has. She will meet me at the office at any hour of any day if I need her to. She knows she doesn't work a 9 to 5. She's always on duty. She will not rest until I am "out of this" (her words).
I went back to work to have my papers signed and to catch up with one of the assistant managers and one of my coworkers. They listened. I crave that. Tell me you are heartbroken with me. I need to hear it outloud.
I drove home in a daze, the bright sunlight somehow not squinting me into sleep on the highway.
A message from the doctor waiting for me when I got home. A nurse, not the one I know best, but the one who needs to take some ativan herself, told me that the pathology was normal. It was halfway official: my baby, yet again, died for no reason. I braced for the news of the gender of my precious baby.. this is it.. alone, without John, I was about to find out. But the news wasnt available. I asked her to please ensure that the chromosomes were sent as well so I could find out later. Chromosomes tell us if we need to be tested for anything, along with the gender of our sweet little cherry.
Still awake. Waiting for the call back. Organizing Kathlyn's Walk on Saturday. Honoring my baby keeps me going.
I got the call back, this time from the nurse I'm comfortable with. There wasn't enough tissue to send for chromosomes.
There is no limit to how many times my heart can shatter.
We had decided not to name the baby when we found out, but I still wanted to know.
I know though, I know it was a girl. I know she was healthy. I know she died, just like her sister, for no reason in particular. Just the wrong end of the odds, an unsafe place, once again.
I wanted to be told though, I wanted the medical proof that her chromosomes were normal and that we could proceed into loving and creating and planning for our third child without any increased risk of miscarriage or stillbirth. No more tests. No more statistics, no more risk factors.
I wanted to hear, "it's a girl."
I know in my heart, this was another daughter, and that will have to be enough. It's never enough, never ever will be enough.
My sweet little girls, I'm so sorry. I am suffering so much, but you will never have to. I'm doing two extra lifetimes worth of suffering, just for you. Take good care of each other. Sleep tight and wait for me. My little cherry on top, I'm so sorry I didn't get to know you better. I loved you, I wanted you, I grieve for you, don't you ever think that I'm only grieving your big sissy... you have a special place in my heart too. There are tears shed just for you, tears for Kathlyn, and tears for both of you together, and my poor broken and overeducated heart can tell which are which.
There are so many broken hearts out there too, little one, broken hearts that prayed for hours over you, broken hearts who smile and think of you when they see cherries now.
Saturday, April 17, 2010
for cherry baby
once again... I have never felt so much pain, sorrow, regret, love, and gratitude all at the same time...
For Cherry Baby
<3
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Sunday, April 4, 2010
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