Friday, August 28, 2009

38 weeks, 2 days

When I first got pregnant with Audrey, I added a cute little pregnancy ticker to my journal I have on another site. I did the same thing with Addie and I remember staring at it so impatiently, just waiting for the time when my ticker says "I should have arrived by now!"....

Only, now, I'm not anxiously staring at it. I removed it from my journal but I occasionally go back to see just how far along I'd be right now. Glutton for punishment? Yeah. Definitely.

Today's date says I would be 38 weeks and 2 days pregnant with only 12 days left before the arrival of my second bundle of joy.

Oh, how I wish that were true! When I look at that and see her due date is just 12 days away, it makes my stomach do flips, it makes my heart pound rapidly and it makes my eyes well with tears.

I'm so angry, I'm so sad, I'm so heart broken. My little girl, my baby should be arriving. I should have two daughters to hold and care for. Instead, my second little girl is lying in a casket buried in the cold ground, without her Mommy's arms to love and protect her.

There have been so many times since May 5th when I've thought about Audrey and just sat there stunned, finding it hard to grasp that this actually happened to me. I actually lost my baby. She actually died. She's never coming home. I'll never hold her during those late night fussy moments, I'll never rock her to sleep and whisper sweet lullabies in her ear, I'll never feel my heart swell with joy when I see Audrey and her big sister cuddling and laughing and playing together.

All of those moments were robbed from me. They were taken away and now I'm only left with the could've, should've, would've moments to go over and over in my head.

It's been almost 4 months since she died and I'm having better days. I laugh, I smile, I truly enjoy life at times but then there are days, moments much like now where I am left with a tremendous sadness in my heart, an ache that is always there but gets worse at certain times. The ache for the child I'll always love in my heart but never in my arms.

Tuesday, August 25, 2009

3 years old

My baby, My girl, The love of my life is 3 years old today! Addison Renee entered this world on August 25th, 2006 at 11:41 am.

She has saved my life in ways I can never express to her. Losing her little sister destroyed me, broke me, and just tore my life into shreds and there will always be a missing piece of my heart that I can never heal, but Addison..... she saved me. She is my reason for getting out of bed every day and she is my reason for "moving forward" with my life. If I didn't have her, I don't know where I'd be today.

That little baby became 3 years old in what seems like the blink of an eye. This birthday has been very bittersweet for me.... not only because she's turning 3 years old today but also because it reminds me that Audrey's due date is coming closer. She was due 9/9/09 - what I thought to be my lucky day - and I often wonder if things wouldn't have ended the way they did, would she have been born already? How close would their birthdays have been? Would I be celebrating Addie's 3rd birthday at home with both of my girls or would I be celebrating her birthday as a expecting Mother? So many questions and only one answer..... I won't be celebrating any of those ways because she's gone. My baby is gone. My baby is dead.

Wednesday, August 19, 2009

Times Like These

it's times like these you learn to live again

it's times like these you give and give again

it's times like these you learn to love again

Last night I spoke with a customer in California on an escalated call (I was the supervisor) and he was explaining to me some situations with his bill and whatnot and then he apologized that his last bill was late and he told me his younger brother had committed suicide on the 4th and he had to leave immediately to go back home. I paused for a moment and I explained to him that I recently too had gone through a death in my family, trying to be as vague as possible, and he asked me if it was a brother or sister. I then replied "No, sir, it was my child." He gave me his condolences and I gave him mine for the loss of his brother and we chatted for a few more minutes after that. I ended the call by telling him "I'm going to tell you something I've heard many times since my daughter's death, the better days will come, sir. It may not seem like it now - but they will." He thanked me and again expressed his condolences before ending the call.

I was left feeling very sad and down after that. I immediately had Audrey on my mind and thought of her my whole 40 minute drive home... and then the Foo Fighter's song "Times Like These" came on and those lyrics at the top of my entry really spoke to me. I'm really having to learn to live a whole new way of life.

I'm learning to live again.

Before I lost Audrey, I didn't have a worry in the world. Things were amazing. I was content, happy, excited and eager for the future.

Then on May 5th, 2009 my world came crashing down around me. I can literally split my life into two times - the time before Audrey's death and the time after.

I'm not the same person I was before her death. Not even close. I know I never will be either and that's been a hard idea to grasp. I worry all the time now, I'm not content with my life like I was and I'm not eager for the future anymore. I am happy with the beautiful daughter I still have and my marriage is great. I love our new house and I love our little family but there's always that missing link, that missing piece and quite frankly, that piece has broken me. I'm a broken, shattered person inside. I hide much of what I really feel and what I really want to say because I know most people wouldn't know how to deal with the way I am now.

A part of me died the day I lost her. A part that I can never reclaim, never get back. There may come a day when I have another child, I don't know.... but that child will never fill the void that is empty, the part of my heart left broken and shattered because I lost my daughter.

A lot of people tell me we have plenty of time to make the decision if we do or don't want another baby and they're right - but to be honest, I'm tired of hearing that. I know I have plenty of time but the point is, a decision still has to be made. I felt a major desire for a baby last week and now this week, not so much. It constantly changes.

I've got so many thoughts spinning around in my head. Her due date is rapidly approaching....... and I'm scared.

Saturday, August 15, 2009


Mothers, Fathers, Relatives of those who lost their child to stillbirth, listen to this song. It sums this entire journey up so perfectly.

Beautiful song.

Wednesday, August 12, 2009


If anyone wants to ask how I feel or what I think about losing Audrey, remember this. THIS says it all.


Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.
Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.

Normal is staring at every pregnant woman wondering how far along she is, then thinking how far along I should be and imagining I am still pregnant as I should be. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.
Normal is no matter how many or by what means we have children, there will always be one missing.

Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.

Normal is making sure that others remember my baby.
Normal is I will celebrate my childs birth and mourn the death all on the same day.

Normal is after delivery is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.

Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having your child die is unnatural.

Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone because you are stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother,crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.

Normal is some days being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.

Normal is wondering this time what to say when the inevitable question of if you have any children is asked because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that my baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you have no children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.

Normal is avoiding friends who have been friends for years because the site of them and their children tears my heart in two and reminds me again of what I lost.

Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.

Normal is finding excuses not to go to baby showers and birthday parties because you don't want your loss and sadness to overshadow anyones special day.
Normal is having to bite your tongue when people say stupid things because you know they mean no harm, they are just ignorant.

Normal is being avoided by people who know because they are uncomfortable talking about it.
Normal is I NEED to talk about it.
Normal is everyday finding the strength to get out of bed and go on living even though there are days you feel like you can't.
Normal is when you do get out of bed you realize that today is one day closer to seeing my baby again.
Normal is knowing that 80% of relationships will not survive the loss of a child and wondering if you will beat the odds.

Normal is blaming yourself and wondering if others blame you too.

Normal is knowing that I will never be able to enjoy a pregnancy because it will be plagued with fear and rememberance of how this one ended.

Normal is I wouldn't give back my 21 weeks I shared with my child because sometimes love is so great that saying hello and goodbye in the same moment is worth it.

Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.

And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".

Monday, August 10, 2009


My counselor told me to expect this to happen as my due date with Audrey came closer and closer. She said to expect myself wanting to be around babies, hold babies, care for babies, that sort of thing. Sure enough, it's hit. And HARD. My good friend Mandy, due one month before I was due with Audrey, had her son Bryant on Monday... my birthday... and from the very second I held him, that maternal instinct and that urge to have a baby of my own hit me hard.

It's been on my mind all day. It's all I could think about.

I want a baby so bad. That baby fever is there, full force.

Only problem........... I'm terrified.

Never in the time since I became a Mother or the idea of becoming a Mother entered into my life has the idea of having a baby scared me the way it does now. I always worried about the usual stuff, the pregnancy sicknesses and whatnot, how it would change my lifestyle, etc...

But now, after losing Audrey, there is a whole new level of terror added in. I cannot lose another baby. In any way, shape or form, I cannot. What did not kill me and destroy me with Audrey I am certain would do me in if I lost another baby.

I told Adam I want us both to get check-ups and see a genetic counselor for testing. I want to know what our odds and chances are of certain genetic disorders, etc. Most 23 & 25 year old couples should not have to be thinking of things like this when it comes to having babies.... but it's a very huge reality in our lives now. I couldn't have another child knowing my chances of a certain genetic disorder are so great that I could lose that child or leave them to live a life that would prohibit themfrom really living life. Ya know what I mean?

Adam told me when we lost Audrey that when/if the time came that I was ready to say the word and he'd be ready too. Now he's hesitant on the idea. I don't blame him, not at all. But I think his reasons are a little less to do with the emotional impact and a lot to do with how it fits into our lifestyle now with the job situation and babysitting situation. He said he knows we'd have worked an idea and a plan out if Audrey had lived but he still worries about it. Which is natural but then I also think it's a totally selfish idea to entertain. If Audrey would've lived we'd have worked it out, no questions asked. So why should we hold back on our dream of completing our family because of those things?

I asked him if he'd come see my counselor with me so we could discuss this together with her. I was shocked that he agreed to it. He's not really the kind of guy to go to a complete stranger and pour his heart out for advice. He rarely he even does that with me and I'm his own wife. It took us losing our daughter to really get him to open up to me like I've always wanted him to. I always get a lump in my throat when I want to approach him with a huge and life changing decision but I always get over those nerves and I tell him how I feel and I ask his thoughts.

I'm not mad at him for being scared. I know he's scared for the same reasons I am but I also know he's scared for other reasons, that to me, don't matter. I'd do anything and change any part of my life to have a baby.

I'm going to ask my sister-in-law if I can have my niece Kaylee over the weekend. That urge, that desire, that want, that need, that everything.... it's there. I want to care for a baby so bad. This idea, this thought of having another baby and trying again in a few months may pass and I may not want to but I know right now, I'm feeling it strongly.

I'm so conflicted.

Monday, August 3, 2009

3 months

3 months ago, I was still pregnant.

3 months ago I was completely unaware that the child inside of me was dead and I would not be giving birth to her in the way I had imagined I would be.

3 months ago today was the last day I was a pregnant Mother of two.

Now, I'm a Mother of two... but one of my babies is dead. One of my babies I can never kiss and hold and love like I should.

I'm having a really hard time with this today. I'm going to be honest when I say that all of the recent pregnancy announcements I've heard have really thrown a wrench into things too. I am happy for everyone, I truly am, but I am also envious, jealous, whatever you want to call it. I have a few good friends who have tried for so long to become Mother's and them realizing that dream is a miracle and I am so happy for them but I'm also sad. I know now know they felt whenever I announced both of my pregnancies and they were left wondering when they would get their miracle to hold.

I should be welcoming our second daughter into our family in just 5 weeks or so. If she came early like her big sister, I could've been expecting her to arrive in just 2 weeks or so.

All of the should've been situations are creeping into my mind big time.

I haven't been to Audrey's grave since June. I've been wanting to go but it's been hard with my schedule and whatnot. I plan to make time soon, I hope. It will be around 60 days or so before her stone is laid. I'm looking forward to it because I want the world to know my little girl existed but I'm also dreading it because it will make it even more real that she's really gone, she's really not coming back.

I want a baby so bad. My heart and my arms ache for one. I'm just not yet to the point where I can accept that any future babies I may have won't be Audrey. They never will be.

I don't even know what she looks like. I have a child that I never saw, that I never held. I hate myself for that. I regret it every single day of my life. I had a perfect image in my mind that I didn't want to ruin. At the time, I was scared. I was shocked. I was numb. Now, looking back on that day, I wish I would've asked to see her and hold her. She deserved that much and so did I. She may have already been dead but she is still my little girl and I should've held her close to my heart just like I did the first time I held her big sister.

I'm having better days but then the bad ones creep in and it takes everything I have in me to not let it crumble my heart and drop me to the ground in tears.

If I stay away from the pregnancy entries for awhile, please understand. I have moments where I am okay and I know I can handle reading it or whatever but then there are moments when it makes my heart ache too much. Just know I do wish everyone all the best with their pregnancies. I would never wish this pain and sadness on anyone, not even my worst enemy and most definitely not on some of the best people I know in this world.

Saturday, August 1, 2009

Just waiting now....

I mailed the check for the stone to the memorial home today. I don't know why but that just felt very strange. Everything feels strange these days! When I peed on those sticks in December and saw I was pregnant, I never envisioned it ending this way. Sadly, it did, and I am left to carry on and try to do my best.

I was asked by a lady at a yard sale today "When are you due?" I hesitated for a second before telling her I'm not. I just politely said I was but something happened and now I'm not. She didn't really say much after that. It's not like I expected her to or anything - that's an awkward thing to talk about. I love talking about her all day long but I know it makes other people feel weird so I guess I just leave it alone.

I have a counseling appointment on Tuesday morning. There's so much I want to talk about. I've had a hard time with the stone and basically the entire month of July was really hard on me. I hope August shapes up to be better. It's hard with each week passing, thinking I should be one more week closer to her arrival. She was due September 9th. When I had my first daughter, she was due September 12th and came early - on August 25th - so I expected something similar would happen with Audrey. It's so hard knowing I won't be going into labor and bringing my baby home. I miss her so much.

I am really enjoying having our new puppy, Copper, to take of. I'm nowhere near ready to have another baby and go through that yet so having him is like having a baby. He's up all hours of the night, up bright and early in the morning and constantly demands my attention. He fills my arms so that they aren't aching for a baby. I always have that ache and I am sure I will forever. I may have another baby someday, I may not. I don't know. I change my mind all the time when it comes to that. My Husband said he flip flops with the idea quite a bit too. We'll see.....

I don't know if this blog is finding anyone out there or not. If it has, if you too lost a child - I'm so very sorry. Remember, your child may have been stillborn but they were STILL born and they will always be your baby. You have a special kind of baby - your baby is your guardian angel. Not many people can say they have one that is so special to them!