Friday, December 31, 2010

A year in review....

     2010 has been a bittersweet year for me.  In just a few days I will "celebrate" the first anniversary of my BFP.  It started out as a wonderful year...a year full of so many hopes and dreams.  Only to come crashing down on August 25.  To steal an old quote, August 25 will always be a " that will live in infamy,"  at least in my mind it will.  It is the day we found out our precious little girl no longer had a heartbeat.  But I have learned a lot over the past year; learned to love more than I ever thought I was capable of, learned to live all over again, and learned what it meant to be truly grateful for my life and those that are in it.

     I never expected to see "Pregnant" in that little window.  We had been trying for a long time and I was beginning to wonder if it would ever happen; if we were even meant to be parents.  So when I got that result, I was happier than I had ever been...truly the happiest day of my life so far (even surpassing my wedding day).  Of course, the happiest day quickly changed to the first time I heard her heart beat.  I was 10 weeks pregnant with her when we had our first ultrasound.  What a beautiful sight!

     Those first few months went by quickly, except for the damn blizzard.  Back to back storms were not fun...especially when I didn't have the energy to go outside and enjoy it.  Actually, I think there was way too much snow to really have fun in it, but the dog seemed to enjoy it.

     Right after the anatomy ultrasound in April, we took our babymoon trip.  We both love to travel and love lighthouses, so we took a long weekend and toured lighthouses on the Chesapeake and in the Outer Banks.  It was a wonderful trip; we got to spend time together as as soon to be family.  Plus we had time to really discuss our name choices.

     With June came a trip to Harpers Ferry with friends from waaaay back.  Isn't it funny how you can just pick up where you left off?  That's the mark of a true friendship.  The day turned out to be wonderful, not too hot, just a little rain.  I'm so thankful for these women; our friendships have lasted the test of time.

     July turned out to be sweltering.  My mom, aunt and sister in law hosted my baby shower early on in the month.  I couldn't believe the amount of goodies Addie received.  The blue flowered dress that my sister in law Amanda bought still remains one of my all time favorites...there are even matching baby Crocs to go with it.  (I think that's one outfit that won't ever bee worn, it will stay in her memory box.)  Two of my good friends also gave birth this month, their children just a day apart.  It was fun being pregnant with them, sharing our experiences and complaints.  At least they knew exactly how I felt.  After all, the 3 of us can honestly say we were pregnant during the hottest summer the DC area has ever seen.

At the end of July we chose to do a 4D ultrasound.  For anyone who has never had one, I highly recommend them.  It was amazing to see her little face and watch her open and close her eyes, swallow, stick her tongue out.  There was even a point where it looked like she licked the placenta (her face was right up against the placenta, almost like she was using it as a pillow).  Ahh, memories.

     August marked the beginning of the countdown.  It was still hot as hell...thank God for air conditioning and the Potomac River.  I don't think I could've survived without them this year.  We spent many weekends at Izaak Walton on my parent's boat.  Well, I spent most of my time in the water, everyone else spent more time on the boat.  I was done; I was ready for her to make her entrance.  The heat definitely didn't help.  I now understand why pregnant women are so miserable towards the end...and impatient.  The morning of August 25 is a day I will never forget.  And, neither will I forget those words..."I see no cardiac activity."  I now know what shock feels like...I can honestly say I've experienced it and still remember how it feels.  Sometimes I think I'm still in shock (is that even possible?).  Another day I will never forget is August 27th.  That is the day I first saw my beautiful daughter's face.  Finally seeing her face was the best feeling in the world, immediately followed by the worst.  Hers is a face that I will never get the chance to see smile or laugh or grow up.  Yet, a face I will always cherish.
     September, by far, will be the most difficult month I have ever faced and probably ever will.  Even more so than right after I was hit by a tractor trailer.  The physical pain from that was nothing compared the mental anguish I experienced after Addie was born.  I wonder if that's what post partum depression feels like?  But I don't think I was depressed.  I never got the chance to be.  Patrick stayed with me, never left my side.  When he left the house, I went with him.  He was my constant companion.  I don't think he realizes how much that meant to me.  He helped me keep my sanity.  So did the rest of my friends and family, however 2 really stick out in my mind.  I hope they know who they are...I really don't think I could've survived this without those 3 people.  We officially said goodbye to her on September 25.  Surrounded by our family and close friends, we gathered in our backyard for her memorial service.  A single butterfly floated through the air as I thanked our guests for supporting us most in our time of need and spoke lovingly of a daughter I never really got to meet.

    The beginning of October gave us a chance to get away.  We spent several days in Luray, just the 2 of us and Jazz.  It was, for me, a time to reflect, to gather my thoughts and to express them on paper.  I wrote a poem that I am still very proud of.  Yeah, I'm tooting my own horn, but the poem really does express how I feel...its better than anything I've ever written.  The trip was very healing for me, gave me a chance to come to terms with Addie's death.  No, I'll never get over losing her, I know that.  But I can remember her with a smile now, more often than just tears.  October also marked my return to work, something I wasn't looking forward to.  My second day back I went home early because the tears were uncontrollable.  As a 911 dispatcher, I know I could face death everyday, but that day I just wasn't ready for it.  It was that day that I realized I couldn't handle 911 anymore.  So, November 21st I began a new chapter in my life.  After 8 years as a dispatcher, I began a new career as a Customer Care Rep Shift Lead with a new company.  The project I'm working on is brand new, so I'm helping to develop training materials and my input is actually taken seriously.  Its a nice change of pace.

     December has probably been the hardest month for me, other than September.  I didn't realize how much Addie not being here would affect me.  You know its bad when you're unpacking Christmas ornaments and just start crying.  But I survived.  I got some wonderful Christmas gifts and spent some quality time with the people I love.

     Bittersweet really is the best word I can use to describe 2010.  The majority of the year was great, one of the most memorable years of my life.  Certainly one I will never forget.  It took just one little person to change everything.  One little person to show me what it means to really love someone and to teach me to be truly grateful for what I have in my life.  One little person to show me what it feels like to be loved be loved regardless of how bitchy or moody I am.  It amazes me just how much difference one little person can make.  As tragic and short as her life was, I've learned more from her than I have in my entire life.  I feel like I appreciate my husband and family more, that I have the ability to love them with my whole heart (even though there is a piece missing).  I have learned so much from a little girl; a little girl who's life I won't get to share, but a life I know was special.

    My dreams for 2011 are to live each day to the fullest, cherish the time I have with my family, and, maybe, somewhere in all of that who knows what will happen.  Best wishes to everyone for 2011.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

No, I didn't forget...she's always on my mind.

Of course I didn't could I?  She's all I can think about most days.  I guess I just didn't want to admit it.  December 27th marked yet another milestone she won't reach.  By 4 months, she should be laughing, smiling, sitting up...I missing all those things.  It hurts more than I ever thought it could.  Why is it that babies are taken away from mothers who really deserve the chance to love them.  Why is it that people who really shouldn't procreate continue to pop out kids?  They don't appreciate them;  they don't see children as the little miracles they really are.  Its just not right. 

I can't wait for the start of 2011.  I'm so ready to put this crappy year behind me...and maybe start trying to conceive again.  The urge to be a momma and have a happy, squealing, chubby baby is stronger than ever.  I used to wonder if that urge was  just a result of my grief, especially in the beginning.  But, now, as the grief has subsided somewhat, that yearning to have a baby hasn't lessened.  I can remember saying to my husband, right after we found out Addie no longer had a heartbeat, that I couldn't go through this again; that I never wanted to be pregnant; never wanted to risk losing another child.  But I know I'm not ready to give up.  I'm not ready to look at "alternative methods" (I hate that phrase).  I want to experience pregnancy, the good and the bad.  I want that bond that only a mother knows.  I just hope it happens for us in 2011.

I can't believe its been 4 months.  Seems like such a long time, but its not.  It has flown by most of the time.  Its just days like this that I can't stop thinking about her.  She really did take a piece of my heart when she grew her wings.

Sunday, December 26, 2010

And to all a good night...

     Well, it's done.  Christmas has come and gone and I'm glad.  I only had one real meltdown, and that was before anyone was around.  Some tears were shed when I opened a special present my SIL Joann made, but they were tears of a happy-sad nature.  She made an ornament for Addie, then made matching ones for my mom and aunt.  They truly are beautiful.

     The first picture is me opening the ornament.  The second pic is the front of the handmade ornament.  The last pic is the ornament made for my mother.  My SIL is so talented.  I love the ornament more than I can even explain.  It is and always will be my favorite.  It is just perfect.  There were so many butterfly themed presents this year, and all were appreciated.  Addie will always be my little butterfly.

     It was nice to know that she won't be forgotten.  Not that I thought my family would ever forget her, but I wondered.  I thought maybe they would be too hesitant to say or do anything to honor Addie,  for fear it might hurt me, but they weren't.  Both sides made sure to acknowledge her existence and I think that's what meant the most to me.  My in laws have always displayed everyone's stockings, and, this year, there was a tiny purple one, the newest one of the bunch.  I nearly cried, it made me so happy.  The ornament, the jewelry, the butterflies...all are so beautiful.  I will cherish them just as much as I will cherish my daughter.

     On a different note, although I said I didn't want anything for Christmas, I received many presents, mostly for my DSLR camera.  I love taking pictures, it has become a my favorite pastime.  I recently hinted that I wanted an external flash for my camera, something that would help with the quality of the pictures.  Well, my husband surprised me with the exact one I had been looking for and I love it.  I've already had a lot of fun with it.

     These are 2 pictures I took with the new flash.  Jazz is a border collie-aussie shepherd mix and is a great subject for photographs.  We've had him for just over a year now and he has proven himself to be a wonderful companion.  He always greets us with enthusiasm, but knows when to be calm.  I still remember the day I came home from the hospital after having Addie.  I had a C-section, so I was still very sore.  Even though he hadn't seen me for several days (which normally would warrant being nearly knocked down and licked all over by him), he knew right away something was up.  He was very subdued and kept all 4 paws on the ground.  He's too smart for his own good.

     For all the other BLMs and BLDs out there, I hope your holiday was as good as it could be.  I know this season isn't easy, but I hope that you all find some peace and solace in the holiday.  Best wishes to everyone for a happier new year!

     For my daughter:

Dear Addison,
     Your presence was definitely missed at Christmas.  I can't tell you just how hard it was to be with
our family but not have you there.  But I survived...we survived.  Thank God for our family.  They love
and miss you just as much as I do.  They are so wonderful, so amazing.  I am and always will be forever
grateful to have them in my life.  You will never be forgotten, not if I have anything to say about it.  Merry
Christmas to you, little butterfly.  May you always enjoy your time in the stars.  A candle always burns for you...forever in my heart.
Love Always,

Thursday, December 23, 2010

Had to share

There are so many poems for baby loss mommas out there, but very few for dads.  I was surprised to find this one, but it is so appropriate.  I wanted to share it with everyone.

A christmas present for Dad....

A gift for you on christmas Day,
What on earth could it be?
I know the gift you really want,
......Is to once again, have me.
Or perhaps the gift of understanding,
To make sense of a senseless loss.
I'm sorry, my dearest Daddy,
But for those gifts, you must talk to the boss.
The gifts that I can give today,
Are memories, both sad and sweet.
From the touch of your hand on Mummy's tummy,
To my tiny little feet.
Remember the joy you felt inside,
When you found out you would be my Daddy?
The great big smiles upon your face,
You were over the moon, you were so happy.
Remember when you felt me move,
The wonder and love you'd feel?
Remember it today Daddy,
It just might help you heal.
Remember the little cuddles we had,
And the moments that we shared.
Remember my little nose,
And the colour of my hair,
I love you dearest Daddy, you know that this is true.
Just keep your memories of me alive,
And I will always live in you.

Tuesday, December 21, 2010

A bright spot on the hardest holiday season...

     Since the day she was born, I have regretted not taking pictures of my beautiful little girl.  I know I was still in shock after she was born, but I wish someone would have asked if I wanted pictures.  Or maybe they did and I just don't know it.  Thankfully the hospital had taken some.  They weren't the greatest quality pictures so I've had to do some editing.  Plus, Addie had some pretty bad skin peeling and her color was really off.  Recently, I submitted the pictures to a website my mother found.  The owner of the website, Heidi Rempel, retouches photos of angels at no cost to parents.  The website is called Heartprints Photo Retouching (  I was surprised to see her name in my inbox today, knowing that she has a very long waiting list.  The opening lines told me that she had only gotten to one of my photos, but she wanted me to see it.  Tears filled my eyes when I saw what she had done with Addie's picture.  It was the picture I've had in my head since the day she was born.  There was my truly beautiful little girl.  Heidi did a wonderful job on the photo.  She made a truly rough season just a little bit brighter.  Thank you Heidi!  I can't even tell you just how much I love the picture!

     My beautiful baby girl in living color.  I love it!  Merry Christmas little one, I know you're out there somewhere, I know you can hear me.  Just remember that Daddy and I love you and miss you more than you can ever imagine!

Monday, December 20, 2010

Today it came...

     So, I had a surprise waiting for me when I got home.  Well, two, actually.  I had signed up for the gift exchange through Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope website and I was paired with another baby loss momma.  Well,  my gift arrived today.  There were several cute things but one I really loved.  It's just perfect, so simple but so right.  I added it to our Christmas tree.

     I just think it fits Addie so well.  Thanks to Kristy who got it just right!

     I also opened her stocking today.  I have to say it made me so happy to see her name embroidered on it.  Like she's actually here to see it.  Its adorable and I wish I had the strength to actually display.  I would love to see it hanging with ours, but I think it would be too difficult to look at.  Still, it feels right to have her stocking...I'm glad I ordered it.

     I had a discussion with my hubby tonight.  Yesterday he had said something that stuck with me.  He asked if we were still planning on going to his parents house on Christmas Day, which we always do.  I guess it kind of stuck with me, so today I asked him what he meant.  He wanted to know if I was up for it.  I told him not really, but I know what is expected of me.  I know that people would be disappointed if I, if we, didn't partake in family holiday time.  Is that what it's going to boil down to now?  Are the holidays always going to be "have to" and not "want to?"  I don't want the holidays to be like this.  I want to enjoy the time I spend with my family...I don't want to be sad, I don't want to miss her.  Is this how Christmas is going to be from now on?

Saturday, December 18, 2010


I feel so selfish.  Christmas is supposed to be all about giving to others, but all I can think about is myself.  All I can think about is what I want.  How is that right?  Its all about me...what I want is all I can think about.  The closer Christmas gets, the more I think about me.  Selfish, selfish, selfish.  How can I be so self-centered, so stingy, so inconsiderate?  I have never been like this before, what the hell is wrong with me?  I'm not that kind of person, but it's all I can think about.

All I want for Christmas is have you in my arms, to watch you sleep at night, to see you laugh and smile.  If only I could see you one more time.  All I want is that so wrong?

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

So, I did it...

No, not that, get your mind out of the gutter, haha.  I ordered Addie a stocking to match ours.  It probably won't be here before Christmas but it doesn't matter.  I don't think I would be strong enough to look at it every day...but I know I'll hang it next year.  The fact is that she is, and always will be, a member of my family.  Still don't know if I will get a "First Christmas" ornament or not though.  I'm just happy that I finally made the decision to order the stocking.  I never thought something so little, even so meaningless, would become such a big deal and such a hard decision to make. 

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Dignity found?

‎"If you know someone who has lost a child, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died--you're not reminding them. They didn't forget they died. What you're reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift."
--Elizabeth Edwards (7/3/49-12/7/10)

The world lost a wonderful, intelligent woman recently.  I'm not political at all, but I consider Elizabeth Edwards to be a great role model.  After everything she went through...the cancer, the political battles, John's affair, the death of her son, she was still able to carry herself with dignity and class.  Honestly, I don't know how she did it...I wish I had one ounce of her strength.  Rest in peace, Elizabeth.

I've had friends tell me that I have handled the death of my daughter with dignity; that I have held my head high and continued on with my life, but have I?  Those friends haven't seen me cry myself to sleep, didn't see me sitting on the floor crying as I went through Christmas ornaments.  They don't know that I haven't been in her room since the day before I found out she had died.  The don't know the ache I feel in my heart.  I've been invited to 2 holiday parties and have declined both.  I have said I'm not in the Christmas spirit, but I really think I'm hiding from those who really care about me.  How is that living?  Today, my husband and I were in his truck when a Christmas song came on the radio.  What did I proceed to do?  Well, my dumbass started to cry...WTF.  I can't even listen to a stupid Christmas carol without tearing up!  Can someone build me a friggin time machine so I can go back to August and go into labor a week earlier?  Can I just have my daughter back?

Dignity, strength, class, faith...all have failed me, at least once in my life. Especially now.

Friday, December 10, 2010

Winter Wonderland

Its amazing how the little things can make me miss her so much.  Today we had our first snow.  It wasn't much to speak of...little more than a dusting, but enough to make it a beautiful scene.  Normally, I hate snow.  The first flurry of the season is usually all I want to see and then I'm ready for spring.  But this year, snow just seems to make me sad.  A new season coming and yet she's not here to enjoy it with us.  I wonder what I would have done if she were here?  Would she have been my little snow baby?  Would I have bundled her up and put her in the stroller for a walk in the snow?  Or lit the fireplace and read to her until she fell asleep?  I guess I'll never know.  At least, not anytime soon.  Sometimes I forget that I can still have children.  I still have a chance to be a mom.  But wait...aren't I already a mom?  What makes me a mom? 

  I watched the snow fall and I ache for her even more.  I feel like I'm missing out on so much.  I had so many hopes and plans for her.  I wish I could share those special moments with her.  If wishes were dreams and dreams were reality, she'd still be here with me.

I miss you baby girl!

Monday, December 6, 2010

It's done and I hated every minute of it!

So, we put up our Christmas tree yesterday.  And I hated every minute of it.  I sat there in the middle of the floor, going through the ornaments and started crying.  I'm so weak.  I couldn't even watch Patrick string the lights.  For a person who normally loves this time of year, this is so weird.  I don't like hating Christmas...I was looking forward to doing all the things for Addie's first Christmas.  Although, my mom made the suggestion that I do what I was going to anyway.  Buy her a stocking and get her the "Baby's First Christmas" ornament.  After all, she is still part of the family, regardless of whether she is here or not.  I know, though, I wouldn't be able to look at her stocking this year.  Our stockings hang right below our TV.  Right in the line of sight.  So even if I order it, I know I won't hang it.

But, the tree is up.  I really hesitated putting it up this year.  I actually told my hubby that I didn't want to put it up.  Of course, the reason I gave him was why go through the trouble if we aren't hosting Christmas for our families this year.  But, I knew he was disappointed at the thought.  We've always had a tree, big or small.  Yet, he still supported my suggestion without question...I'm so lucky to have him in my life.

Yesterday just wasn't a good day.  I never imagined having to put up Christmas decorations without her.  Its just not right.  I know, one day, I'll love Christmas again...just not right now.

Friday, December 3, 2010

Guess I should've expected this.

So, I was asked that question today...the question all baby loss momma's hate:  "Do you have any children?"  I guess I should've expected it.  After all, I do have a new job, with lots of new people.  I thought I handled it okay though.  I kind of paused, and the person thought maybe they were being too personal.  I told them no and explained why I hesitated.  I didn't explain much, just said that, yes, I have a daughter, but she passed away just before birth.  And that's as far as it went.  It wasn't quite as hard as I thought it would be.  I'm just glad the person didn't ask any more questions.  I don't know if I could've answered them.  So, maybe it won't be quite as hard as I thought.

I am a proud parent of a beautiful baby girl, who just happens to have wings!  Missing my heart...

Just sitting here...

So I'm just sitting here on my lunch break at work and my thoughts have drifted to Addie.  It's quiet in the office, everyone else has gone to lunch (I chose to stay behind and save some money for the dreaded Christmas holiday).  I can remember planning exactly what I was going to get her for Christmas and what she was going to wear.  I already had two outfits for her first Christmas.  And I was going to order her personalized stocking...I nearly cried when I hung our stockings and her's wasn't with them.  I've actually thought about ordering one fro her anyway.  Afterall, she is still my daughter, regardless of whether she's here or not.  I just think it will be too painful to look at it.  I wanted so badly to buy the traditional "Baby's First Christmas" ornament.  Instead, I've been looking for an urn to put her cremains in. 

Yeah, I know, I'm depressing.  Its just hard not to think about her.  Especially when it gets quiet like it is now.  But at least I don't cry everytime I think about her.  I'm so glad about that.  There is no way I could continue living my life if I cried at every little thought of my butterfly.  But it still hurts.

Everyone keeps asking me what I want for Christmas, to which I reply, "Nothing."  That's not true, though.  I want my daughter back.  That's all I want...all I've ever wanted.  I want the pain to go away, I want a happy, healthy baby in my arms.  God, this sucks.

Monday, November 29, 2010

I'm still thankful, but damn this is hard...

My family must think I'm a real bitch...I often wonder why they don't smack the crap out of me and tell me to suck it up.  Our Thanksgiving usually takes place the weekend after Turkey Day, simply because it works better for all of us.  Saturday was with the in-law side.  I spent most of the day gearing myself up for my 2 year old nephew and having to be around my pregnant sister-in-law.  I did ok, for a good part of the day.  Then it just got harder and harder.  It took all my strength not to cry...I cried the whole way home (we live an hour away from where we had dinner).  I cried myself to sleep. 

Saturday also would have been her 3 month birthday.  Why doesn't all the shit have to be on the same day.  It just made Thanksgiving even harder.  This was what I posted on Facebook:  "Some say you're too painful to remember, I say you're too precious to forget...its been 3 months today since we said goodbye. I'm so thankful to have known you at all, and so glad I can reflect on the memories more often with a smile than with tears. Missing you always, little one."  It pretty much sums it up...except I cried more tears that day than I have in a long time.

Sunday was with my family.  Thankfully all my nieces and nephews (4 of them) are older, the youngest being 6.  So I didn't have to worry about being with little ones.  Or so I thought.  My completely insensitive 20 year old cousin decided to bring his female friend who has an 11 month old little boy.  Pretty much blindsided me.  I had really hoped to have a baby free day.  Didn't happen. 

I will never understand why she was taken away from me.  It just isn't fair.  No one has ever wanted to be a mom more than me.  Well, I know that's not true...but in my mind it seems so true.  There are other momma's out there, momma's without a baby to hold.  I really am thankful for the time I had with Addie, but I would do anything to have here back here with me.

Thursday, November 25, 2010

Missing my heart, but still thankful...

Dear Addie,
   Today should have been your first Thanksgiving.  Trust me when I say you were missed by everyone...especially me.  I wanted you for so long.  I'm still thankful though for the time I had with you.  Those 39 weeks were the best of my life.  I just wish I had more time with you.  But, I'm still thankful. 
   I'm also thankful for your father.  He is the reason I able to live without you.  He is so supportive and loving.  I wish you were here to see it for yourself.  And to meet the rest of your family.  Everyone is wonderful.  You are so loved...I hope you can feel it, wherever you are. 
    Happy Thanksgiving, butterfly.  Missing you always.
Love, Mommy

Saturday, November 20, 2010

And life goes on....

Yesterday wasn't as bad as I thought.  Yeah it was rough, but I knew it would be.  Turning 31 isn't so bad when you have a wonderful husband and great family and friends.  My FaceBook page was filled with birthday wishes, and I had a beautiful dinner waiting on me when I got home from work, courtesy of my wonderful husband.  Yesterday truly marks a new chapter in my life. Not only did I turn 31, but I also left my job after 6 years.  I will start fresh on Monday.  My life has been full of changes lately.  Most are good I think.  I guess losing my little girl has made me rethink my life.  Its time for me to slow down, to shake things up, to be what I am truly meant to be.  Or at least try to.  I know things happen for a reason and this new job is a brand new opportunity for me.  A wonderful, unique opportunity for me to be normal, to work a normal schedule, to be less stressed out. Most importantly, to just enjoy my life.  Its going to be hard to enjoy life without my daughter, but I know she's out there somewhere, watching over us and that helps.  I hope she is happy.  I hope she knows that she is loved and, although we may have other children, she will always be our first born.  Change is good.  I honestly believe that...I just hope its true.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Can I just skip tomorrow?

So here I sit, the evening before my 31st birthday and I just wish I could go to sleep tonight and not wake up until Saturday morning.  I always wanted to have my first kid by the time I was 30.  I guess, technically, I did.  Yes, I am proud to be a momma of an angel, but its so hard to face turning 31 without my chubby little girl squealing in my arms.  I just want to forget that its my birthday.  And I want everyone else to forget it too, but I know that won't happen.

I think what makes it worse is that Addie would be 12 weeks old tomorrow.  Yet another milestone she won't reach.  That just hurts.  We waited so long for her, only to get so close and not be able to take her home.  Its just not right.  So much crap is going through my head right now, I just can't think.  I just want to forget my birthday.  It doesn't matter anyway.

Monday, November 15, 2010

What I am thankful for....

So, a blog I read quite often (Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope) has started having monthly writing challenges and the one for this month kind of plucked at a heart string.  Through all the tragedy I've been through, Iam surprised that I am able to find things I am thankful for.  What I am thankful for though are often things I have taken for granted.  So here, I will write what I am truly thankful for this year.

November’s topic: It’s easy to focus on all the negative things that come from losing a baby, but have you discovered any ‘blessings in disguise’ throughout your journey? What can you find to be thankful for related to your loss?

First of all, I am thankful for my husband, Patrick.  I know many baby loss momma's say this, but I am truly grateful to have him in my life.  Yes, the loss of our daughter was devastating for both of us, but if not for him, I don't think I could continue living.  He is my reason for living.  He has stood by my side without question, letting me cry on his broad shoulders, get pissed off at him for no reason, he has taken it all.  There was even a day that he came home just to be with me and support me.  It was actually my second day back to work and I had to leave because I was crying uncontrollably. I couldn't function.  All I wanted to do was bury myself in my pillow and cry.  He arrived home shortly after I did and held me in his arms until I cried myself to sleep.  It seems losing our daughter has brought us closer, made us appreciate each other more.  I love my husband more than I could ever express with simple words; I owe him everything.  I am so very grateful he is in my life.

Secondly, I am thankful for my family and friends.  They have been so supportive through everything.  From bringing us dinner, to visits, to phone calls.  And they left us alone when they knew we needed it.  Everyone has been wonderful, but especially my mother.  She has been my sounding board.  Infant loss is yet another thing we share.  She lost her oldest child after he was born prematurely.  My mom has been the one person I can go to when I don't know what else to do.  She has been able to answer my questions and give me advice on how to deal with losing Addie.  I don't know what I would have done without her.  I am so very grateful to have such a wonderful mother.

Last, but certainly not least, I am thankful for my daughter.  Even though I miss her terribly, I've learned to appreciate the time I had with her.  It has taken me a long time to smile at those memories of my pregnancy, but I'm so glad I can.  I was starting to see a bit of her personality. She loved to push her little butt out, and I used to think she was going to be such a show off.  The constant hiccups.  The dancing on my bladder.  God, I miss her so much!  I wishes were money, I'd be rich right now.  But, I'm so thankful that I can look back and remember these with a smile instead of tears.  I'm so glad I had 39 weeks with her.  I know I will never forget how it felt to be pregnant with her.  And, most of all, I will never forget how I felt the first time I held her.  Even though she was already gone, it was the best feeling in the world to finally hold her.  Of course, it was immediately followed by the worst.  Still, there's no way I would've given up the chance to hold my daughter.  I am so very grateful for the the time I had with my beautiful daughter, she has given me memories to last a lifetime.

This holiday season isn't going to be an easy one for me, but I know that I have things to be thankful for.

Sunday, November 14, 2010

Why do I do this to myself?

I love my family, I really do.  But sometimes, its just so hard to be around them.  I always feel like I'm being such a bitch, but I'm afraid if I open my mouth I'm just gonna cry. 

My husband and I went to his sister's house in Richmond yesterday.  She has a 2 year old and is due with their second son in early March.  I actually found out she was pg 2 days after coming home from the hospital without my newborn daughter.  She didn't want to tell us, but she didn't want to hide it either.  It hurt...almost as much as knowing my daughter had died.  I thought I was okay with it now.  I thought I was okay being around kids to.  I mean, I've held infants, been around other pregnant people since we lost her, so why did being around her yesterday bother me?  I don't like the jealous feeling...its not me.  But it wouldn't go away yesterday.  Its was only surpassed by the severe heartache I felt everytime I looked at her baby bump.  I am truly happy for them, I know how much they went through with their first son (he was born with a heart defect and has had open heart surgery, and will probably have to have another one soon) and I know this new little boy is a miracle.  So why am I jealous?  I just don't get it. 

And, then, today was the baptism of the daughter of one of my good friends.  We were named her godparents.  I was fine through most of the service, including holding her.  Then I'm fighting tears when they start singing "I Was There to Hear Your Borning Cry."  I started thinking about how I didn't hear her cry, how she didn't even get a chance to take a breath.  What the hell is wrong with me?  I should be proud, happy to be a Godmother again.  Well, I am.  But still, why can't I control my emotions?  This honestly is not how I wanted to be.  Am I always going to be in the edge of tears?  How the hell am I supposed to function if every stupid little thing sets me off?

Missing my baby girl so much!

Thursday, November 11, 2010

What I wish people knew...

So, I was cleaning out my favorites on my laptop and found this hidden way at the bottom.  I had forgotten I bookmarked it.  I found it very appropriate, especially after I returned to work.  People avoided me simply because they didn't know what to say.  Maybe this would have helped them...

"What we wish you knew about pregnancy loss:
A letter from women to their friends and family by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer
I assert no copyright for this material.  Please us it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief.  Thank you.

Date: Sat, 23 March 2002

When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them.  The lists tend to be remarkably similar.  The comments are rarely malicious-just misguided attempts to soothe.

This list was compile as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss.  While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss.  When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners:  don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children.  No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.

-Don't say, "It's God's Will."  Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don't presume to tell me what God wants for me.  Besides, many terrible things are God's Will, that doesn't make them any less terrible.

-Don't say, "It was for the best-there was probably something wrong with your baby."  The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad.  My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out.

-Don't say, "You can always have another one."  This baby was never disposable.  If I had been given the choice between loosing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would've said 'Wher's the fork?'  I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children.

-Don't say, "Be grateful for the children you have."  If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father?

-Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it."  I loved my son or daughter.  Whether I lost the baby after two weeks or just after birth, I loved him or her.

-Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?"  It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken.  I wish it had never happened.  But it did and its part of me forever.  The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine-or yours.

-Don't say, "I understand how you feel."  Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel.  And, even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently.

-Don't tell me stories of your neighbor or cousin who had it worse.  The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until 2 days before my due date and labor for 20 hours for a dead baby.  These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair.  Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me.

-Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up.  If I say "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared.  If I'm talking about it, it means I want to.  Let me.  Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone.

-Don't say, "It's not your fault."  It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed.  The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse.  This tiny little being depended on me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it.  I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give hm a childhood.  I am so angry at my body, you just can't imagine.

-DO say, "I am so sorry."  That's enough.  You don't need to be eloquent.  Say it and mean it and it will matter

-DO say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you."  We both need to hear that.

-DO say, "I lit a candle today for your baby," or "I said a prayer today for your baby."

-DO send flowers or a kind note.  Every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved.  Don't resent it if I don't respond.

-Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is one and I don't return your call.  If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either.  Help me by not needing anything from me for a while.

If you're my boss or co-worker:
-Do recognize I have suffered a death in my family--not a medical condition.

-Do recognize that in addition to the physical effects I may experience, I'm going to be grieving for quite some time.  Please treat me as you would any person who has endured the tragic death of a loved one-I need time and space.

-DO understand if I do not attend baby showers/christening/birthday parties, etc.  And DON'T ask why I can't come.

-Please don't bring your baby or toddler into the workplace.  If your niece is pregnant, or your daughter just had a baby, please don't share that with me right now.  Its not that I can't be happy for anyone else, it's that every smiling, cooing baby, every glowing new mother makes me ache so deep in my heart I can barely stand it.  I may look okay to you but there's a good chance I'm still crying every day.  It may be weeks before I go a whole hour without thinking about it.  You'll know when I'm ready.  I'll be the one to say, "Did your daughter have her baby?" or, "How is that precious little boy of yours?  I haven't seen him around the office in a while."

-Above all, please remember this is the worst thing that has ever happened to me.  The words miscarriage or still birth are small and easy.  But my baby's death is monolithic and awful.  It's going to take me a while to figure out how to live with it.  Bear with me please."

Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Addie's Story...I want the whole world to know your story. Loving you always, little one.

                Our story really begins several years ago.  My (then) boyfriend and I had been together for 3 years when I was involved in a head-on collision with a tractor trailer.  Even today, I thank my lucky stars to have only sustained orthopedic injuries.  Yes, they were painful, even permanently disabling, but it could’ve been so much worse; after all, I’m still alive.  It was during the many months of recovery that followed that I had my “epiphany.”  Patrick stood by my side, unfailing in his loyalty, through it all.  He was there to help me when I couldn’t help myself; he was there for me when I needed him the most.  Prior to this point in our lives, I knew I loved him, but it wasn’t until I saw the sacrifices he made for me that I realized just how much I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him.  Exactly one year after the accident, on June 3, 2006, I proudly walked down the aisle to marry my best friend.
                Now, fast forward a few years.  It was early January 2010 when I began to wonder.  I hadn’t been feeling right since Christmas and thought I might be coming down with something.  But then I realized I was a few days late.  Believing I had miscalculated, I waited a few more days before finally decided to buy a home pregnancy test.  Tears of joy streamed down my face when I saw the word “pregnant” in the window.  I was undeniably happy and scared at the same time.  I wanted so badly to call my husband and yell “I’m pregnant!” into the phone, but decided against it.  I wanted to see his expression when I told him he was going to be a daddy, so I chose to wait until he got home from work.  In the mean time, simply because I couldn’t hold it in any longer, I emailed one of my best friends.  I don’t think I actually said the exact words, but she knew anyway.  Finally someone knew my secret (keep in mind that all this has taken place in less than 30 minutes of getting the results)!  What a relief!  Now, what was I supposed to do for the next five hours?  By the time Patrick got home, I had cleaned every inch of our house, all 3000+ square feet of it.  But, I still didn’t tell him…I couldn’t find the right way to say it.  Instead I tell him I have something for him and ask him if he wants it now.  When he says yes, I hand him the test.  His expression was priceless; his face was completely blank and then he flashed me a huge grin…even his eyes smiled.  He was happy; he was going to be a dad.
                Everything went as planned from the get go.  We had our first ultrasound at 10 weeks to confirm the age of the pregnancy.  Everything looked great, right on schedule.  The only hiccup we experienced that early on was being told I had the “little c” antibody in my blood.  This particular antibody, I would later learn, was most likely introduced when I had a blood transfusion after the accident.  However, after testing my husband’s blood, the doctor told us we had nothing to worry about.  Shortly before our planned “babymoon”, we went to our anatomy ultrasound.  At this point, I was exactly halfway through my pregnancy and felt great!  It had been pretty easy so far, thankfully.  It wasn’t surprising that the baby didn’t want to cooperate.  He or she was already very active.  But, after finally getting the required measurements and pictures, the baby decided it was time to give us the money shot…we were having a girl.  It was during our trip we decided to name her Addison Breann or Addie for short.  We started to decide on colors and decorations for the nursery, and making lists of gear and other essentials, everything new parents do.  We were so excited, so ready to meet her.
                As time passed, I looked at her ultrasound pictures often, imagining what she would look like.  Did she have my nose?  Her daddy’s one dimple?  His long fingers and toes?  Oh, I couldn’t wait!  It was driving me nuts!  My wish was granted, in a way, when we chose to have a 4D ultrasound.  I was 31 weeks pregnant and Addie was as active as ever.  It took the tech a long time to get a good picture because she was squirming around so much.  But, finally, there was her beautiful face on the screen.  Addie had my nose and chubby cheeks; she had her daddy’s lips and chin.  She was gorgeous!  So perfect.  She even had her hand curled under her chin, almost as if she was pondering something.  Now I REALLY couldn’t wait to meet her!  These last few weeks couldn’t go by fast enough!
                But, instead they crawled by.  I was getting very antsy.  Not only was I ready to meet her, but I was also just plain miserable.  The DC metro area was experiencing the hottest summer on record and here I was 8 ½ months pregnant.  I lived in the air conditioning.  And, when I wasn’t indoors, I was in some sort of water, be it a pool, lake or river.  My husband and I were patiently waiting for Addie to make her arrival (well, I was TRYING to be patient).  We had finished buying all the gear and clothing we thought we would need, took a child birth education class, and cleaned the house top to bottom.  We were ready.  My weekly doctor appointments had become routine.  Every week I waited eagerly to hear her fluttering heart and was happy when the doctor would say that everything was right on schedule and looking good.  On August 20, 2010, I went to what would be my last prenatal appointment.  I waited anxiously for the nurse practitioner to find Addie’s heartbeat.  Lately, she had slowed down quite a bit, not moving or kicking as much.  I mentioned this to the NP, who, in turn, asked if I was still getting good results for my kick counts, which I was.  With the sound of her racing heartbeat (mingled with my sigh of relief) in the background the NP said it was normal for babies to slow down.  After all, at almost 39 weeks, she was running out of room.
                The weekend went by quickly, as did Monday and Tuesday.  Between working and doing last minute stuff to prepare for her arrival, I didn’t have a lot of time to stop, despite my lack of energy.  Every once in a while I’d feel a nudge or squirm, usually combined with a contraction.  I knew it was getting close.  The last thing I remember before falling asleep Tuesday night was feeling Addie move just slightly.  The morning of August 25, 2010 began as usual.  I got up and showered, hoping to wake myself up.  Nights weren’t very restful for me anymore, but I knew I had to get used to it.  Since I was off, I had plans to give the house one last good scrub, if I had the energy.  I was cleaning up after breakfast when I realized I hadn’t felt Addie move yet.  She wasn’t normally active until mid afternoon, but I usually felt her move a few times, especially right after I ate.  I waited an hour, hoping for something; jiggling my belly, poking and prodding her little bum trying to get her to move.  Still, she wouldn’t budge.  I was 9am when I got through to my doctor’s office.  I explained to the nurse practitioner what was going on and answered all of her questions.  She then told me she would call me right back after she spoke with my doctor.  So, in the mean time, I call my husband.  I’m trying not to freak out but I can’t help it.  He tells me he is on his way back to his office and then will come home.  I tell him I’m still waiting for instructions from the doctor and he says he’s coming home anyway and to text him with the info when I get it.  10 long minutes pass before the phone rings again.  It’s the nurse practitioner and she tells me to go straight to Labor and Delivery at the hospital.  Through my tears I send a text message to Patrick and walk out the door.  On the way to the hospital, my mom calls to say she’ll meet me there but she’s still 25 minutes out.  Patrick had called her and asked her to meet me since he was still 45 minutes from home.  Alone, I walked into Labor and Delivery, more scared than I have ever been in my life.  The nurse took my ID and insurance, weighed me and asked for a urine sample.  After I was done, I was taken to a bed behind the nurse’s station and started to hook me up to monitors.  The nurse was just beginning to look for a heartbeat when I was told that both my mom and husband had arrived.  Patrick was brought back to where I was.  They had found a heartbeat but weren’t sure if it was mine or Addie’s.  So, they decided to do an ultrasound.  The nurses led us to a different room and called the on duty doctor from my practice.  In the meantime the charge nurse was starting the ultrasound.  She wouldn’t let us see the screen.  After what seemed like forever she said “Let’s wait for the doctor.”  I begged her to tell me; pleaded with her not to make us wait.  Finally, quietly, she said, “I don’t see a heartbeat.”  Time just stopped.  I sobbed.  Patrick sobbed.  We held on to each other so tightly I couldn’t breathe (or was it just the pain that made it hard to breathe?).  We waited for the doctor.  The doctor slipped into the room, asked me to lie down and squeezed more jelly on my stomach.  He studied the screen for a long time.  He confirmed our worst fears, using words I will never forget, “I see no cardiac activity,” and turns the machine off.  My mom is brought in as the medical staff leaves.  We can barely speak those terrible words.  The charge nurse returns a few minutes (hours?) later to late us know the doctor wants to speak with us again.  After expressing his condolences, he starts saying things like fetal demise, unknown causes, induction, drawing blood, pathology tests.  I really can’t focus.  The doctor leaves again to give us some time to make a decision (what decision?).  Patrick then tells me that we have a choice; we can start the induction today, right now, or we can come back in the morning.  Regardless of what we chose, the doctor had already ordered a battery of tests in hopes of finding out what happened.  After deciding to go home and return in the morning, we were led to a private room in the Mother-Baby wing of the maternity ward to await the lab tech.  I don’t remember much about being in that room.  Someone handed me some papers and gave us instructions for the next day.  I barely remember the lab tech coming in for the blood draw but was told later that she filled about 15 vials.  The next thing I clearly remember is being in my driveway and nearly hitting my father in law as I opened my car door.  We spent the rest of the day surrounded by our family, grieving the loss of a little girl we never got the chance to meet.  That night I cried myself to sleep in the arms of my husband, knowing I wasn’t ready to say goodbye to my daughter.
                Addison Breann arrived in this world silently, never a chance to raise her voice.  She was born shortly before midnight on August 27, 2010.  After 30+ hours of labor and 2 ½ hours of pushing with no progress, I reluctantly agreed to a c-section.  I was exhausted, both mentally and physically.  Addie was a big girl, measuring 11 pounds and 22 inches long (her weight, we later found out, was partially due to fluid that had built up in her little body).  She was beautiful, though, looked exactly like the 4D sonogram pictures we had of her.  I never wanted to let her go.
                I consider us lucky to know why she died; I know a lot of parents never find out unless the cause of death is blatantly obvious, like a cord accident.  Although the autopsy and pathology reports aren’t conclusive, the doctors are 99% sure her death was caused by two factors:  antibody isoimmunization (similar to Rh disease) and CVM.  The day after we received these results, we held her memorial service in our backyard.  On September 25, 2010, surrounded by family and friends, we said goodbye to our daughter, our first born, our little butterfly.
                It has taken me a long time to be able to sit down and write Addie’s story.  I’ve realized that, although I wish I could go back and change the outcome, I don’t regret any part of my experience.  I wouldn’t trade the time I had with my daughter for any amount of money in the world.  I will always cherish the memories I have, like the first time I felt her move or how her daddy used to call her his little MMA champ when she would kick the crap out of me.  I miss my daughter.  Thankfully, though, future pregnancies aren’t out of the question.  My doctor says we should try again, that what caused Addie’s death is treatable.  Now we know what to look for.  My husband and I have discussed it at length.  We know we’re not ready to give up yet.  We want to be parents no matter what it takes.  We know the risks, we know this could happen again, but we just aren’t ready to quit.  This isn’t the first time our strength and relationship has been tested and it probably won’t be the last.  In tragedy, we have grown closer.  If we can survive this, I know in my heart we can survive anything together.
                I never thought I would be the mother of a stillborn child, but here I am.  And you know what?  As much as I miss my Addie, I’m proud to say it; proud to call myself her mom.

How am I going to survive the holidays?

I've been asking myself this question for a few weeks now.  It was really brought to light yesterday when my husband was asking me if the Saturday after Thanksgiving worked for us getting together with his side of the family would work for me.  Technically, I have no idea because I'm supposed to be starting a new job earlier that week and I don't know yet what my schedule will be.  But I found myself saying, "Is it that important for me to be there?"  I think I pissed him off because he gave me this look and says "Yes, it is, because I want you there."  He's already pissed about the fact I want to skip my birthday.  But is it really the schedule I'm using as an excuse?  I get the feeling its not.  I REALLY don't want to celebrate the holidays.  I'm glad we're only hosting one get together this year.  Thats only because we have the biggest house on my side of the family.  But, it just so happens we're hosting Christmas Eve.  I don't think I'm ready for this.  I was so looking forward to buying "Baby's First Christmas" ornaments and ordering her stocking.  WTH.  I can't do it now.  Its not fair that I have to spend my first holiday season as a mom but without my baby girl.  I know women in the past have done it, I just wish they would tell me how.  Send me the pamphlet, because lord knows I'm gonna need it.  Missing you baby girl! 

Wednesday, November 3, 2010

Oh how true!

"I have been through a lot and have suffered a great deal. But I have had lots of happy moments, as well . . .The good, the bad, the hardship, the joy, the tragedy, love, and happiness, are all interwoven into one single indescribable whole that is called life. You cannot separate the good from the bad. And perhaps there is no need to do so, either." -Jackie Kennedy.

So, this quote was posted on Facebook by an organization for baby loss mommas (Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope).  I couldn't help but identify with this.  My life has been shaped by the good and the bad.  I honestly see no reason to separate the two.  I wouldn't be who I am today if not for the lessons I've learned throughout my life. Sure, I would change the past if I could, but would I be the same person I am right now?  Probably not.  I like who I am, I don't want to change that.  Yes, I wish the heartache would go away, oh how I wish!  But, there are some benefits I wouldn't change.  I feel closer that ever to my husband and family because of our loss.  I know its a cliche, but I do feel stronger.  Everything I have gone through in my life, the deaths, the illnesses, the challenges, have all made me stronger and I wouldn't trade that for anything in the world!  Except to have my daughter back in my arms...I really would do anything to have her back.

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

Insensitive People

You know, I understand how some people may not know or even forget about what happened to my daughter.  But my own family?  I had a family member ask me recently if I was ready for Halloween and the holidays...HELL NO I'm not ready for the holidays.  Who wants to spend the holidays without your child?!  I certainly don't.  If I could, I would completely skip the holidays this year.  My mom had already purchased Addie's "My First Christmas" outfit, plus a friend of mine had given me the cutest little fur trimmed red dress.  For Halloween, we wanted to dress her as a ladybug.  But, instead I'm writing this stupid post on my blog. Its just not right.  How can anyone think I'm ready to face the holidays? 

Friday, October 29, 2010

Just a poem I copied from my journal. Written to honor my beautiful butterfly, Addie.

I wrote this during our first mini vacation after Addie died.  I did a lot of soul searching while we were away.  It was very therapeutic.  Writing has become an outlet for my emotions.  I never knew I could be so comforted by writing it all down.

The Path
I am walking a path; it is a path no woman should ever have to follow.  Yet, it is a path so many have taken, even my own mother.  It's a path we do not choose, but one we unhappily share.  It is a path of sorrow with footsteps so heavy they sound of thunder.

I am walking a path and its raining.  I haven't been walking long, but the rain never seems to stop.  The skies are crying for all of us because it seems as though we have no more tears to shed.  But, my tears, like the rain, continue to fall.

I am walking a path; a path so similar yet still so different from those who have walked before me.  Some days, I can see a light, a break in the clouds maybe; its faint, but a light all the same.  Other days, all I can see is the rain, nothing on the horizon but the gloom, it surrounds me.  Still, every day, there is a single, beautiful butterfly; she follows me faithfully.

I am walking a path; a path sometimes so difficult that I can't go on and must stop.  As faithful as ever, the butterfly stops with me.  She sits on my shoulder, gently fluttering her beautiful wings and patiently waiting for me to regain my strength.  She remains by my side, hardly moving, a quiet source of comfort until I am ready to move forward again.  She knows; some how, some way she understands.

I am walking a path and it seems like forever.  There's no doubt I have changed; a little older, a little wiser as they say.  But my faithful little butterfly has remained the same.  She has been with me from the very first step I took on this path; always there for me, even when I was so sure I couldn't continue.  She has been very loyal, unerringly so.  Could it it possible?  Is it her?

I am walking a path; a path I can never leave, moving forward, yes, but constantly looking back.  It is a path I have come to accept but still hate; a path, although difficult, I know with time will get easier.  It's a path that will remain for forever in my future and always be an enormous part of my present and past.  But will my constant companion, my beautiful source of comfort stay with me?  I honestly hope so, but only time will tell.  I do know one thing for journey, my path will never change.  I will always walk this path, the path of a woman who has lost a child.

      --In memory of our butterfly, Addison Breann.  Momma and Daddy miss you more than you will ever know.  We love you, Addie!  (written 10-6-10)

Halloween sucks!

So, I was looking forward to dressing my baby girl in a costume for Halloween.  She would be just a few days over 2 months old.  But, no, I'm not allowed to have that pleasure.  Why?  I still don't understand why you were taken from us, Addie.  Yes, we know what went wrong medically, but why?  I miss my daughter.  It truly is not fair for her to have been taken from us.  We wanted her so badly.  Why is it that people who shouldn't have children keep popping them out, but those families who want and deserve to have a child have to struggle just to concieve.  It really isn't fair.
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