It's What We Do

On tuesdays, since I don't have to work and we have no other obligations or time issues, I like to take the kids somewhere fun. Somewhere where we can just stroll and hang out at our own pace. The zoo is one of our favorite places to be. My parents buy us a zoo membership as part of our Christmas present every year and we take advantage of it! We go all times of the year and we support our zoo when we're there. There is information all over the place! You just have to stop and read it and take it in. In the winter, the kids and I go to the zoo when no one is there and spend a day in one of the houses. It's amazing how much you can learn. I bring a little folded blanket and let the kids run around and explore inside. They will stop and read things a little more when they're not being pushed around by throngs of people like in the summer. Really, we don't see very much of the zoo on each visit. Since we go all of the time, we don't have to rush around to "get it all done in a day". We take our time and I like it.
This past year has been kind of crappy though. They are redoing the dolphin house so we haven't seen them in a year. Then an elephant died so that has been closed for a year. They've been constructing the Great Bear Wilderness too. Everything is scheduled to open this year so we're very excited.
The first one to open is the Great Bear Wilderness. We got a Members Only Preview yesterday. It's beautiful! Money well spent and the bears look so happy. They were all playing and jumping into the pools and coming up to the glass. The only downside, it was only open from 10-2 so there were people EVERYWHERE. I almost got into it with a lady in the underwater viewing tunnel. She's taller than me and at the front of the glass snapping pictures for like 20 minutes. Another lady was there with her 15 year old son and they were standing there just as long as the other lady. I was getting so ticked. At least take turns. Get a look and then move along so the CHILDREN can see the bears too. Another guy next to me and his wife were ushering all of their kids in by the window and he let Owen take a peek.

Here is where the buffalo roam in their new home.

There are about 50 poems scattered all over the exhibit on rocks, glass, the ground, in the enclosures, etc. Just beautiful. Owen finds his 1st poem on this rock.

Even though there were wolves in this enclosure, Owen was more interested in this bird.

We're in the underwater viewing area now. The brown bears were having a great time swimming and showing off for the people.

He looks like a really big dog.

Zoe was pointing at the rhino.

I gave myself one week to really FEEL it. Go with the waves of emotions and thoughts that seem to be endless. They seem to carry me away with them. I didn't leave the house (other than for the doctor) for a week. I managed to walk around outside on that Sunday for a little bit to compliment Steve on the nice job he did mowing the lawn but then broke down midway up the hill in our backyard with a sobbing confession to Steve that , "I'm a mess".
Last Tuesday, I went to the OB doctor for my regular appointment at 15 weeks and when they couldn't find the heartbeat, I had an ultrasound that night to confirm that the baby had indeed died. A missed miscarriage. The baby died in utero and my body didn't expel it. I got to see the baby one last time. It's a lifeless image I would have rather not seen. The sonographer put the doppler thing on my belly and some cute little toes popped up and a skinny little leg, then up the back and to the head. At 1st I thought, "look at the toes!" I was so happy to see how my little one had grown. But then I realized that the baby wasn't moving and when she pushed on my belly, the baby's leg went up and then floated back down. Lifeless. Then she went over the chest again and the heart wasn't beating black and white like it usually does. Just black. Lifeless. I already knew, she didn't have to tell me. The doctor came in to confirm and then my OB called to tell me he would call me the next day with options on what to do next. Either a D&C or labor. We could do a D&C at Christ Hospital, if not, I would be induced and deliver the baby. How would I deliver it and not go crazy?
I was by myself and dreaded making the phone call to Steve to tell him the news too. He was at home with the kids, putting them to bed. I guess I should have waited til I got home to tell him in person but I needed to talk to someone that second. He was just as upset as I was. I had to call my mom and tell her the grandchild she was so excited about wasn't going to be coming. The immense loss that I felt at that moment was overwhelming. I managed to drive home in a fog of tears and screaming. All that ran through my head was, "What next?" "Where do I go from here?"
That night was awful. Steve and I held each other and sobbed. The feeling of loss was heavy. The only person that I wanted to talk to was my friend Michelle since she had a miscarriage as well. I felt like she was the only person in the world who knew how I felt (although, after people have been hearing what happened, I think about 75% of women I know have suffered from a miscarriage). She let me break down and sob and ramble on. I thank her so much for giving me an ear and being patient with me.
I was exhausted from crying but could not sleep. The next morning, I woke up with tears already streaming down my face and my 1st thought was "Dammit". Knowing that I had to wake up and deal with everything was almost too much to bear. Had it been just me in the house, I would have stayed in bed all day and wept. Instead, I got up with the kids, made coffee, but called Owen off of school. I was keeping my babies close that day. Another thing that I had to think about in the morning, I was going to have to put on maternity clothes since nothing else fit me. Another punch to the gut.
My mom came over with breakfast and it was nice to talk to her. We talked about the baby, cried together, and chatted about other stuff too which was a welcome break from the reality that I was forced to face. My mom left around 1p.m. and I put the baby down for a nap and decided I needed to take a shower. I went to the bathroom and took off my clothes and readied myself for a hot shower to steam away some fogginess from my head. As I was getting into the shower, I caught a look at my pregnant shape in the mirror, knowing the baby was still inside, and I just burst into deep sobs. The loss. THE LOSS! The loss I feel is consuming. I was in the shower for 2 hours. I let myself feel every tsunami of emotion that hit me and I broke under the crash of it. Finally, Owen came in to check on me. He moved the curtain and asked if I was OK. I hope he doesn't remember that. After getting dressed, I sat on the couch with him and tried to be happy but instead I cried the whole time. But that little boy of mine said the sweetest thing. He told me, "I will always be there for you, Mommy". It made me feel good but made me cry harder because I love him so much and am so sad that this baby will never know how much I loved it. I told Owen about the baby in the morning before my mom got there but when we had quiet time alone, he had more questions and it was sinking in for him. I told him that the baby went to heaven to be an angel for God. Owen got a little weepy and said, "So the baby is not coming out?" I told him no, that the baby already went to heaven. He seemed okay with that since he thinks heaven is well, heaven...the best place ever where you get whatever you want, but knew it made me sad too.
Dr. Doah had called in the morning to tell me that I was able to get a D&E and referred me to a specialist at Northwestern. I was told that I would be knocked out for the surgery. I was thankful that I wouldn't know the exact moment my baby was taken from me.
The rest of that day is kind of a blur since I only saw it through misty eyes. My friend Karen came over that night to hang out with me and work through some stuff. Again, she let me cry on her and break down. But she said something very important to me, "You have to live it right now." I almost felt empowered. Like, I finally got my okay to grieve. This is what I should be doing right now. For some reason, I was trying to make myself feel better and not cry, telling myself to "chin up". But really what I needed to do was to let it out, no matter what it sounded like, and "live it" right now. I needed to feel every emotion since I knew it would heal me. After Karen left, I knew I wasn't going to sleep so I went on the internet typing things like, "Coping with miscarriage", "D&E", and trying to figure out what kind of miscarriage I had. Sometimes, the internet is a great way of gathering information and other times, such as this, it is not. The baby was referred to as fetal tissue, pregnancy matter, conception matter. It's not any one of those, it's a baby. My baby. I bawled when I read what a D&E was. It was an abortion. I don't believe in abortion. WebMD gave a detailed description of the procedure. Not something that I was prepared to read but I also couldn't look away, like a train wreck. I didn't sleep that night either.
My doctor's appointment was on Thursday and Karen kindly came with me. I thought that I would be fine on my own since I had endured Tuesday night by myself and still managed to drive home without incident. What the hell can be worse than someone telling you your unborn child is dead? But I appreciated the company and the support. We drove to Northwestern without a problem and I was fine until we pulled into the parking garage. I then started to feel sick to my stomach and panicky. Another reality check, this is really happening to me. The doctor's office was fairly routine at the beginning, filling out paperwork and such. Then we were brought into the exam room and the nurse asked me questions that I wasn't prepared to answer, like what we would like to do with the remains. I hadn't thought about that. I looked at Karen with a shocked expression and we held hands. I didn't know how to answer. Then I had to sign paperwork that said, "Intrauterine Fetal Death" all over it. Then came the consent form for terminating the pregnancy. My bitchy side wanted to come out and refuse to sign it since I didn't consent to have the pregnancy terminated. It was already terminated.
Then, I had to call the funeral home to make some arrangements for cremating the remains. I dialed the number thinking that when the other end answered, I would explain my situation and go from there. They answered and I got tongue tied. I looked at my mom to ask her, "How do I say this?" I didn't know how. It was weird. Like my brain wouldn't accept it.
Again, that night was awful. Tears and more tears. We dropped the kids off at my mom's since they were spending the night there and we came home to ready ourselves for the 5:00 wake up call for the D&E the next day. Steve and I held each other and swayed and rubbed my belly and said our own little goodbyes to the baby. It's rough to see your partner hurting. We're both broken in the same way. How do we heal each other?
Got up at 5 a.m., took my shower, then had to insert a pill to soften my cervix, and lay flat for 20 minutes. As soon as I inserted the pill I thought, "It's starting. This process is starting". It just ripped me in two. I laid on the bed and sobbed again.
Again, the car ride to Prentice Women's Hospital wasn't bad. Then we got there and I could feel the tears bubbling up. They were getting ready to stream down my face at any time. I was trying to hold it in. We accidentally went to labor and delivery check in instead of surgery. There was a very pregnant lady there waiting to be checked in. She had all of her stuff ready to welcome her new child. Right then, I made a decision that would not hate other pregnant women. Good for them. They are doing something so wonderful. The most wonderful thing in the world, in my opinion. It will be harder as the summer goes on and women get more pregnant and I do not. I will always think of big the baby would have been. But, I will not be jealous either. I will hold a newborn baby because there's nothing as precious. It made me think of when I was waiting to be induced with Zoe and a nurse had come in to check on us and there was a woman sitting next to us that was waiting for a D&C. Didn't think a year and a half later I would be in her position and I wish I would have told her how sorry I was for her loss. She was alone and my heart ached for her.
Everything sent a knife into my heart that day. I didn't even mind the needle pokes for the IV since they paled in comparison to the emotional hurt I was feeling. Stupid things hurt and sent me into a round of uncontrollable tears, like having to undress to put on the hospital gown and socks. Another step closer to being separated from the baby. I kept my hand on my belly knowing that it would be the last time. I got asked a barrage of questions by the nurse and then the doctor came in to talk to me. Again, she asked about the remains and I told her that a funeral home will be taking them and she said as calmly and routinely as could be, "Oh, I'll have to make up a death certificate for you then so you'll have to decide on a name." and left the room. I turned to look at Steve and both of us had shock in our eyes. A death certificate? Another knife. Death. Final. A name too? See, I told you, this really IS a person. Not just a fetus or fetal tissue or conception matter. It's a person.
They wheeled me down to the operation room and that was scary. A ton of equipment and stirrups that looked like something from a sci-fi movie. Everything was happening really fast and I wished that she had already given me some drugs to calm me down. She told me to get up on the "bed" which is not a bed, it's a table, a very small table. As soon as I layed down, the nurse started covering me with blankets and I could tell that something was just slipped into my IV. I was feeling more relaxed but not knocked out. I remember the whole thing. I didn't think I would but I do. I didn't feel pain but I could tell what she was doing and I heard everything and saw the tools. That was enough for me. Then I was knocked out. Don't remember too much of recovery. Thanks, Northwestern.
The part that I do remember from recovery was the talking to the grief counselor. She was great. She basically said, "Ride the roller coaster. You'll have bad days and good days. Know that there is no wrong or right answer to what you are feeling".
The rest of the weekend was filled with tears and friends. My friends came over at night to hang out with me and have some cocktails and try to make me laugh. It worked and it was just what my soul needed. I needed to see my girlfriends and have a good belly laugh. Thanks Mom, Jen, Ann, Michelle, Sam, and Karen for coming over and reminding me that we're good friends and strong women and when we are down, we surround each other to pick the other one up. We're all going to have or have had a time when we need the life preserver. I hope I can be there for you like you guys have been there for me. You have no idea how much it helped. That thank you also goes to everyone else who sent an e-mail, text message, called, sent a card, flowers, stopped by, or just sent your love. Steve and I are proud to have the family and friends that we have.
I was thankful when Sunday night came. I thought, "tomorrow is the start of a new week. I will feel better. I will move on." Then Monday came and there was no difference on how I was feeling. In the morning, I had to go to Lawn Funeral Home to sign paperwork. I'm sure that didn't help. I was scared. I thought that the sadness had gotten me. I cried all day. I finally took the kids outside and a neighbor came over to talk to me and I broke down in front of her and then shuffled the kids back inside because I just couldn't take it. Owen asked if I was still sad and then later when Daddy came home, he told him that I was crying all day. At that point, I made the decision that I NEED to move on. I'm not going to forget about it and never cry again. I will always remember him (I know it was a boy. We didn't ask the sex. I was afraid that the baby was starting to decompose and I didn't want to hear them tell me that they couldn't tell the sex. I know it's a boy, and that's all that matters) I cry many times a day. But I can't cry in front of my kids all of the time. I don't want Owen to have a Mommy that cries all of the time. He can't find me curled up in the fetal position on the shower floor every day. I need to get my shit together. I told him that I'm still sad but that he makes me sooooooo happy. He picks flowers for me and is making me pictures all of the time. I will cry every time I have a quiet moment by myself and when I'm saying my prayers at night and have to pray for the baby. I will cry every April 6th (when we found out), every April 9th (the day I was no longer pregnant) and September 28th (my due date). This scar is so deep, and so big, and so raw. You can't act like it doesn't hurt, like it doesn't debilitate you. This is by far the worst thing I have EVER lived through. I was in my second trimester, this wasn't supposed to happen. I heard it's heartbeat many times. I saw it's toes. I saw it's face. I was showing. I had a big belly, which won't go away for another 6 weeks since I didn't have contractions. I'm in maternity clothes. I bought some new stuff too. It's still in the closet. We were going to put on an addition and buy a minivan. We were preparing to have this little miracle in our home. We were rearranging our lives.
I have thought about what it would be like if Owen and Zoe weren't in my life and I don't even want to think about it because it's too painful. I feel like I'm living that nightmare. I have a child that I will never know. I will never get to hold him, kiss his face, spoil him, hear his laugh, I will never know what this child was supposed to be. What if this had happened to Owen or Zoe? I would have never have seen Owen's sweet little smile and that dimple on his cheek, or kissed my sweet little girl. Oh my chest is aching. The rough part is, I know what I'm missing out on. I know how awesome children are. The sadness is the worst part. I'm just SOOOOO sad. My heart breaks for this little baby. Poor little thing. Never got a chance to see this world or meet his brother and sister.
I can feel everyone's loss. I can feel that Steve has a son he will never meet. Our parents have a grandchild they will never spoil. We asked my cousin Quinn to be godfather. Now he won't be. I just feel so bad for everyone. I know they are hurting too but I don't know how to make it better. I'm hurting too much to help. I'm sorry. I'm sorry for your loss too.
Some people have asked if we want to have another baby. I do. As of right now, I do. I know I'm running on emotions so we're going to take this time to grieve and have some time to reflect on what we want and what is best for us.We'll discuss it again around Zoe's birthday and if everything goes right, we will get pregnant around November.
Which brings us to another issue. Steve got "Snipped" when I was about 8 weeks pregnant. He was going in to have hernia surgery and since the decision to have one more child was made for us, we went ahead with the procedure for permanent birth control. We discussed it ahead of time and I was a little nervous about having it done while I was still pregnant. I wanted to wait for a healthy birth and then do it but on the other hand, I don't want to live my like waiting for the other shoe to drop. Who wants to be paranoid that they're going to have a death before the birth? That's an awful way to live. It sucks now because we're faced with little options to get pregnant again. Insurance won't cover a $20K surgery to get it reversed or a $15K in-vitro, so artificial insemination is our only hope at this point and that's only if Steve still have some from before the surgery, and those are coming close to an expiration date. So much to think about. Going to see a fertility specialist on May 3rd so send your hopeful thoughts and prayers that day. I just feel like if we have one more chance to have a baby, let's do it. Steve still has to go in to see if the surgery "took". Could you imagine if it didn't? Holy Shit, I would be jumping for joy. I want another baby not to replace what we lost but to change our sad ending into a happy one. I don't want this to be the end of such a great chapter in our lives. I want to sit my next baby on my lap and tell them the story of this baby and how much we loved it and wanted it and how sad we were to lose it but then tell them that if that didn't happen, then we would have had them to love.
It's been a tough road so far and doesn't seem to be getting any easier. Tough days are ahead. I keep waiting for Lawn Funeral Home to call me to tell me the remains are ready. Dreading that. These next 9 months are going to be a whirlwind but I know we can get through it as a family.

Was listening to Ben Harper on the afternoon of my surgery and heard this song and broke down. It's perfect for how I feel. It gave me peace to remind me that our baby is being held by someone.

In the Lord's Arms, by Ben Harper

Like the wings stolen from an angel
Like petals gone from a rose
Like a dove caught in the storm

Tonight he's in the Lord's Arms

The wind it blew straight through us
And whispered to me in tongues
I was told I was wrong

Tonight he would be in the Lord's Arms
Tonight he is in the Lord's Arms

So I drink this wine to him
With each glass, a memory
He left with his crown of thorns

Tonight he is in the Lord's Arms
Tonight he is in the Lord's Arms
Tonight he is in the Lord's Arms