Invisible wings

I finally got ahold of Renee at the hospital today. She is the Perinatal Loss Consultant. She is in chanrge of all the stillbirths and miscarriages as well as memorial items and the support group. I had talked to her a few times on the phone in the last couple of weeks. She's very compassionate.

Anyway, I pulled into the parking lot to go in through the front doors. I turned off the car, took my seatbelt off, and there was a knock at my window. There was an old lady standing there with what looked like a permanent frown. I rolled down the window and she said, "You parked to close to my car. I can't even open my door!" I appologized, she frowned at me, and I said a few obscenities as I rolled back up the window. I wanted to say, "I'm sorry mam. But I'm trying to get up the nerve to go inside and pick up pictures of my dead baby." But instead I looked over and couldn't help but notice the 4ft between my car and hers. An elephant could have gotten into the car in that space! Her husband pulled out of there quicker than I could pull back into the spot. I got out, and walked through the doors. The same doors that not two months earlier I had ran in with amniotic fluid streaming down my legs. When I got to the information desk, I asked where Renee's office was. She didn't know who I was talking about. I mumbled quietly, almost unable to speak, "Renee W. She's the perinatal loss coordinator." The lady looked at me, and back down at her computer. I don't know, she said. Check at the Perinatal center. I turned and left, thanking her for the no help that she gave. And I wondered to myself how I was going to make it up there. The perinatal center. The last place I was that I was pregnant with Riley. The place that I was when they told me there was nothing they could do. The place where Dr. Bell looked through my eyes and into my heart and told me how very sorry he was, but I was going to loose my second son. I walked past the gift shop that just a few months ago I had marvelled at. I walked by the elevators and pushed the button. The elevator came down, I got on, and behind me a prgnant woman and a doctor got on as well. The lady looked like she was due the end of May. The tears started to come. The doctor was going on and on about how when his youngest child was a newborn his oldest children were just enthralled with him and blah blah blah. This time I was crying silent sobs. I stared at the numbers. It felt like I was on the elevator for hours. Ding. Their floor came. They got off, I sighed a big sigh of relief. Ding. There's my floor. I got off, turned to my right, and started walking. I got to the door of the Perinatal center and froze. For the first time I noticed the quilts on the walls. The quilts that had the names of each baby lost. The quilts that next year would hold the names of my babies. I turned back to the left and started walking down the hall towards the NICU. I asked a nurse at the nurses station. She took me to the office, and I walked in. Renee met me immediately with his pictures in her hand. You aren't going to look at these alone I hope, she said. No, of course not. I'm waiting for my husband. I'm waiting because I'm to afraid to open them I wanted to say. She walked me back to the elevators and stopped to show me her favorite quilt. She showed me the names and they were beautiful. Each year a different one. Each year with different babies. She said in 2006 they had 42 second and third trimester losses. That's a lot, almost one a week. I asked her about the woman who was in labor, knowing her baby had passed, at the same time I was. I wanted to know how she was doing. I think about her often. She told me she wasn't sure, but she would try to get a hold of her again to see. She said she would be sure to tell me if she was going to the support group or not. We chatted a bit, I shed a few tears, and then the babies started to cry. Their sweet newborn wail. The sound that haunts me at night. I got back into the elevator, went downstairs and out to the car. I met Derick at work, we looked at the pictures together. He was so much smaller than I remember. But beautiful.

I saw something that I want to get. It's quotes for your wall, but big and decorative. One said, "A baby is an angel with invisible wings." That's what I think of when I look at the pictures of my boys. Invisible wings.

She's pregnant?!

My mom spoke to my aunt last night. I have 10 other first cousins on my mom's side. The oldest is 29 and the youngest is 11. My brother and I are the only two that are married. Anyway, my mom hung up the phone with a funny smile on her face and asked me how old my oldest cousin was.

I knew that Lex was having problems with her cervix. She has HPV and has had numerous surgeries to remove the cancerous cells. She dates guys, changing them as often as I change my underwear. It's always been a family joke. But she's happy, nonetheless. And that's all that matters. She started dating this guy, who is very nice. And at Thanksgiving she mentioned to me that she wasn't using any birth control. She also said that her doctor told her that her cervix was shreaded and she would need a cerclage.

Her mother hasn't called us. She spoke to everyone else in the family, except for us. She's one of my closests aunts, and I'm hurt that she couldn't tell us. I guess she wanted to be sure before she said anything. But now my worry is that they won't say anything and I won't be able to tell Lex what I want to tell her about her medical care. I don't want her to get a TVC. I want her to go right for the TAC. I'm worried, is all. And I'm happy. Suprisingly. Happier than I thought I would be. If God willing everything turns out ok, the joy that the baby will bring my family will be immense. And if it works out for her, there is so much hope for me. I guess I'm not so upset because I feel like I'm not so alone anymore.

One year ago

My sweet Dylan,

My how time has flown. On this day, last year, we found that our lives were going to take a welcome turn. We found out that we were pregnant with you.

At that time, we had no idea what God had in store for us. We had no idea what to expect, or even how to go about being parents. But we knew, without a doubt, that we loved you more than life itself.

The day was a beautiful, warm day in Orlando. I dropped Daddy off to play golf with his friend, Mike. He told me to pick him up in a few hours. I had so much to do that day. We had just moved into a new house, and I had tons of unpacking to do. But I couldn't focus my attention on anything but you. I knew that my period was due the Monday before, and it hadn't come yet. So instead of going back home, I drove over to the outlet stores. I walked into the Carter's outlet, and they had a 70% off sale! It was fate! The woman at the store asked me if I needed help. I said, "No thank you. I'm just looking. Not even absolutely sure that I'm pregnant yet." But I was sure, without a doubt. Daddy and I had a conversation a few nights before. We had talked about a baby, and I knew. There was this feeling deep in my heart that I was pregnant. So I humored him, but kept my mouth shut. The night of the conversation, I had read that you can use an OPK as a pregnancy test...so I did. And it was positive. I knew for sure that I wasn't ovulating again! I walked around Carter's for at least an hour. Feeling all the soft baby fabrics, dreaming of little boys and dinosaurs and little girls and fairytales. I touched each fabric, lingered on the softest of soft blankets, and walked out of the store with a smile on my face. After Carter's, I went to the Dollar General to get some pregnancy tests. I snuck them in my purse, and left to go pick up Daddy from his golf game.

When we got back home, Lilo and Max were waiting patiently for us. Daddy let them out, and went onto the computer. I went into the bathroom in time to hear him say, "Don't take a pregnancy test yet. I don't want to be dissapointed." It was to late. By the time he said that, I already had the positive test in hand. I called to him, and he came running. Lilo and Max were right behind him. I sqeeled, "Do you see the plus sign?" I needed desperately to know that he saw what I did. He did. We hugged each other for so long, not wanting that moment to ever go away.

The next few weeks were filled with such memories. Sleepless nights worrying about how we were going to pay for your college, sleepless nights because my stomache was growling, and sleepless nights just because I wasn't comfortable! Daddy told me, "You can't be hungry already. I just can't eat anymore!" You grew so well. You were such a strong little boy.

Oh Dylan, I miss you so very much. It seems as though holding you and carrying you were just a dream. But it wasn't. It was more than a dream, although it feels like so very long ago. I wish sometimes that time would slow down a little just so that I can adjust a little more to life without you and Riley. But it can't. And I can't let it. I need life to keep on going, as hard as it is for us. Your little soul can't even imagine how much you have bettered me. At times, it's to much for my big soul to imagine. I love you more than life itself. I would do anything to have you and Riley back here with me, but I've tried everything I could think of. And it didn't work. So for now, we have to adjust to speaking to each other silently until I can hear your voice once again.

I love you baby boy. You will always be my first born son.

Love and kisses always,
Mommy

What a weekend

Friday I got a phone call from a guy about a job that I applied to. He wanted to set up an interview. So it's tomorrow. I'm excited, but in the course of reading to Derick what the job entailed, I saw that they were hiring for something else. A Multi-Day Tours Assistant. Fancy name for basically putting together things for group cruises, bus tours, charters, sending the information to the passenger, booking air fare, and keeping track of their files. It's what I've been looking to do for a long time. So I'm going to ask him to consider me for both positions. The guy was weird though, and the converstation was strange. I think he's a jerk, he thinks I'm crazy. This is pretty much how it went

Him: "Hi, may I speak to Rebecca?"
Me: "This is her."
Him: "Hi, this is so and so from Transbridge Tours, I was wondering if you could come in for an interview?"
Me: "Sure!"
Him: "I see that you left Guardian, do you mind telling me why?"
Me: "Uhh...I had some personal reasons."
Him: long pause
Me: "I found myself pregnant with a very high risk pregnancy, and needed to leave because of some complications...but we went on to loose that baby as well."
Him: "I really didn't need to know that much. That was really to much information."
Me: "I'm sorry about that. I never know exactly what to say when people ask me that."
Him: "How's Tuesday at 11?"

Now wouldn't you think that after a long pause, he would want you to elaborate some more? I thought that's what he wanted. I didn't want him to think that I left because I couldn't get along with people or management. Because that wasn't the case. But now I feel like an idiot and I think he's a jerk. Derick told me if I don't like it, I don't have to stay. But we need the money.

So on Saturday I went to Aunt Chris's for the afternoon. It was a huge step for me because I was out of my box. I went by myself, even though I wasn't completely comfortable, and ended up having a wonderful time. I had to leave though because Pop had a mass for Riley at 4:30 that afternoon. So I picked up Mom, and we went. We got there a bit late though because she missed the turn, so by the time we got there Pop and Aunt Chris were already seated and we had to take a seat in the back. I looked over at them and noticed a lady with a baby about 4 months old, the same as Dylan would have been had he been born in October. I started to cry. I saw Pop, and he was crying. I looked over again, and he was gone. About 30 mins later, he came over to me in the middle of the service and gave me a hug. I told him I loved him, and he went back to his seat, still crying. It broke my heart. I hate to see him so sad. I know how much he loves both of my boys, and his life has certainly changed because of them. It seems as though at 80 he has lost his innocence as well. Anyway, Mom rode home with him and he mentioned that the baby sitting in front of him just put him over the edge. I know what he meant. It was very hard. He was such a happy, playful baby and there we were...grieving two babies. I want so much for him to see a Great Grandchild before something happens to him, but at the same time I feel horrible for putting him through this one more time. I don't want him to see the pain on our faces, and I don't want to see the pain on his. He has so much love for children that I feel as though I'm taking that away from him. He and my grandmother had also suffered a miscarriage between the twins and my Aunt Mil. I think that he feels a lot of emotion from that as well and it doesn't help things.

On Sunday I was having a bad day. I woke up sad, and I just couldn't get out of it. Derick and I had a fight because I was sad and wanted a hug but he didn't know if I wanted to be left alone or if I wanted him to console me. So he left me a lone. Wrong! After we both got over it, we went to see Grandad since he came home from the hospital. I hate to say it, because I'm not one to feel this way, but I've lost so much respect, love, and appreciation for them in the past 8 months. When I say that I really don't care, I don't. I went over to see my aunt and uncle who had come in to town. We didn't leave without a lecture from my grandfather, and he managed to make a comment about his brother's family..."Their poor family. Out of 4 babies, they lost 2." I wanted to scream, "What about your family? What about me, your grandaughter? What about your Great Grandsons?" They see my grief as insignifigant. They think that I'm just overly sensitive. It makes me sad because I feel like Dylan and Riley don't even matter to them. To any of them. It hurts me tremendously. I don't think they will ever know the power of their words to Derick and I. At his suprise 80th birthday party he thanked all of his grandchildren, but he forgot to mention me. Then he had Heather stand up so that everyone could clap for my brother who was serving in Iraq at the time. I nearly walked out of the party, but instead I went into the other room and silently cried. I felt like I had to respect them, but how much is to much? When do you draw the line...when do you start taking care of yourself and your heart and not worry about the feelings of others? How do you protect yourself from the hurt, without hurting other people...like my father?

So it wasn't a great weekend, but it wasn't bad either. Strange, I guess. I hope that the interview goes well tomorrow. I just want out of the house. And I want out of here. I just want to go somewhere and start a new life. What a dream! Haha!

Ahhhh

I just want to screem today. I don't know why, just one of those moods.

I made dinner tonight, and it was good. I'm always hesitant to make things because I know that my parents won't eat it, but then they will bitch because I don't cook. So I did. It's the first motivated thing I've done in a while. And I was motivated to do it. My Dad ate, two helpings. Derick ate, and I ate. No one died. It was good. Mom comes home from work with a bag full of Panera Bread. I said, "I told you I was making dinner. When you called, Dad told you I was making dinner." She stared at me, yelled because it was my fault that she didn't know, and then went on to make excuses that she just had a craving for a sandwich. What the fuck? No one has a craving for a sandwich that they have to make!! Then she added, "Maybe I'll have the dinner for lunch tomorrow. If I feel like it." Wonderful. There goes a whole pot of sausage and peppers, into the refrigerator to sit for days because no one will eat it. I don't know why it bother's me so much, it's her money lost. But it does. It just does. I want my OWN house. I want my OWN kitchen back. I'm tired of using hers. I have different rules in my kitchen. My rules!

Then she gets on our case about wanting to go to Florida next weekend to get the car. Plane tickets went up, so maybe Derick will have to go by himself. Although I was really looking forward to going. I'm so afraid that it will be hard though. Last time I was there I was pregnant with Dylan. The last time I laid in my bed or sat on my couch Dylan was alive inside me, happy and content. Last time I saw those things, held those things, or wore those things I was the happiest I had been my whole life. And to top it off, Febuary 9th is the day last year that we found out we were expecting him. It's bittersweet I guess. Anyhow, Mom got on our case about going. What doesn't she get that once we get my car back here it will be easier on everyone? Or that we will feel so much better about ourselves instead of putting it off, once again. We've been putting it off since October. How much longer can we go? So she just went to bed mad at me. Who cares. I don't. I have much more important things in my life than worrying about what she thinks. I just wish she could keep her opinions to herself. They make me want to bash my head in. Really.

I'm hungry again. It's late, and I know I shouldn't...but I can't help myself. I only eat one meal a day these days, dinner. So I guess I should. The councilor was a bit taken aback when I told her that I eat only one meal. Maybe that's why she wants to meet with me alone. But yuck, at the same time eating makes me want to vomit. So maybe I won't. I went through this with Dylan...I took the hottest shower I could almost to the point of my skin burning so that I wouldn't hurt so much on the inside. It seems like this not eating thing is doing the same for me. It's keeping my emotional pain at bay by initiating physical pain. I have to get out of this. I know I'm smarter than this. I'm stronger than this. I just don't know how to help myself. Derick will freak out if he hears this. He hates when I'm this way because it scares him.

On a happier note, I've come to the realization that lots of people that I don't know read my blog. And I'm thrilled. My hopes are that maybe another mother will read this and cherish her babies hugs more. Or that another grieving parent will read this and realize they aren't alone. Or that one day, people can look back and see for sure how far I've come. If you are reading now, I love to read your comments. They make me smile and realize that I'm not alone, and that somewhere out there it might touch someone. Plus, there is nothing more that I love to talk about than Dylan and Riley. I feel generic refering to them as 'the boys' isn't that weird? So I'm going to keep refering to them by name as much as I can. They are very indivitual little boys. Both loved so very much!

Ok, so I'm off to get something to eat. I'm also going to work on Riley's cross-stitch birth announcement. It will help me release some stress from my mother! Ahhh! She gets to me!