Not this year. This year, most of the general population expects me to be "over it" enough to hardly remember the day. I'll never forget that day. It was the day a detour was placed in my path...not a fork. Oh no, most people get the fork. A path they get to choose for themselves. Not me. I got the damn detour. "This way is closed for you." In my path were dark clouds, fallen branches, potholes, quick sand, mud, and flying monkeys (well, maybe I exaggerated with the monkeys...). Shouldn't the detour sign have been for THAT path? Why was I being detoured AWAY from the bright blue skies and clear pavement? Why do I get to watch everyone I know walk down THAT path but I'm forbidden? Now that I'm on the other side of that forest, I can still see everyone else on their path. Theirs is still paved and I'm still on the dirt road. They can't see what's beneath my feet. It doesn't cross most of their minds to look at what we're walking on. We all have clear skies and the forest is long gone...yet I still walk on the dirt which, by the way, has mud holes along the way that I try to avoid, but sometimes are inevitable. Must be easy to forget my struggle through the dark forest when you never had a detour. You got to walk along your pretty, clear pavement and my struggle was hidden from you by the forest that enveloped my entire being. Seems pretty easy to dodge the mud holes when you can't see them, huh? Believe me, they are there. The big ones are anniversaries.
Yesterday was the 2 year anniversary of the day we received Tyler's diagnosis. The day we found out he had a condition deemed "incompatible with life". I dub thee "D-day". Unlike last year, I didn't watch the clock, remembering every moment of the previous year: when we left our house, when we got to the hospital, the time we were just walking around in the hospital after the doctor told us his findings were "concerning", the moments between when the doctor handed me a box of tissues and when he told us our baby was going to die...the list goes on. After telling our parents that day, I collapsed in bed, emotionally exhausted. As I woke, realizing it was NOT a bad dream, I cried some more. I went from LOVING every little movement inside me, to dreading it now. It was a constant reminder of what was being ripped away from me at any moment. It was one of the top 3 worst days of my life. It may have been THE worst. As awful as it was to have my only child (at the time) die in my arms then let him go the next day, there was still some beauty in those moment. Not D-day. There was no silver lining in "Your baby has bilateral renal agenesis, meaning the kidneys did not form, which is incompatible with life"..."If you choose to carry to term, your baby may only live a few moments, if born alive"..."Your baby may die in utero"..."Your baby may not survive labor and delivery"..."You can get a second opinion, but I have no doubt"... Those are the little snippets of the conversation I remember. I don't see a sliver of hope, do you?
Not this year. This year, most of the general population expects me to be "over it" enough to hardly remember the day. I'll never forget that day. It was the day a detour was placed in my path...not a fork. Oh no, most people get the fork. A path they get to choose for themselves. Not me. I got the damn detour. "This way is closed for you." In my path were dark clouds, fallen branches, potholes, quick sand, mud, and flying monkeys (well, maybe I exaggerated with the monkeys...). Shouldn't the detour sign have been for THAT path? Why was I being detoured AWAY from the bright blue skies and clear pavement? Why do I get to watch everyone I know walk down THAT path but I'm forbidden? Now that I'm on the other side of that forest, I can still see everyone else on their path. Theirs is still paved and I'm still on the dirt road. They can't see what's beneath my feet. It doesn't cross most of their minds to look at what we're walking on. We all have clear skies and the forest is long gone...yet I still walk on the dirt which, by the way, has mud holes along the way that I try to avoid, but sometimes are inevitable. Must be easy to forget my struggle through the dark forest when you never had a detour. You got to walk along your pretty, clear pavement and my struggle was hidden from you by the forest that enveloped my entire being. Seems pretty easy to dodge the mud holes when you can't see them, huh? Believe me, they are there. The big ones are anniversaries.
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I think it's just human nature to want to be understood. Nobody enjoys feeling like an outcast. Being gawked at, like a freak. But I also think that the need to be understood should not be confused with the need to justify or rationalize. I need people to understand my pain in losing my child, but I won't justify the way I grieve. I need people to understand his purpose, that his life HAS purpose. And I need people to understand why it's so important to me to keep his memory alive not only within myself, but within my entire family. He was just as much a part of it as anyone else, his time here was just short. He was never less alive than any other member. Like I've said a hundred times on this site and through these blogs, having more children will not take away the pain I will always feel from losing my first child. For some reason, certain people can't get that through their thick skulls. I appreciate Keira in a way that I never could have without Tyler and more than most people appreciate their children. Never have I felt more like every child is a blessing than I do now. Tyler gave me that gift. Keira will grow up knowing about Tyler because we want her to understand that when her mommy and daddy are sad, it's not because she did anything wrong or because we are not proud of her. We are sad because a piece of our hearts are missing. As much as we love her, we miss him the same. I have a BLM friend who I recently found out is a twin. Her brother died at birth. She grew up knowing she was a twin and was always proud to say it. I want that for Keira. I want her to always know she had a brother. There's nothing morbid about that. Keira gets to have the best of both worlds...she gets to be protected by her "big" brother, but she will get to be the oldest of our living children.
Contrary to old-school mentality, talking about our deceased children is healing and healthy. Hiding your feelings and pretending you're "fine", when you're torn up inside, is not. How do I know this? Because I HAVE EXPERIENCED IT. You know when I was at my worst in my grief? When I didn't know how to handle it, so I hid it behind a fake smile and mindless chatter. When did I start feeling better? When I let myself just cry. When I let myself be angry. When I allowed the hurt to come out. Once I released it, I started feeling better. I will not bury my emotions to protect other people from being uncomfortable. Quite frankly, I don't care if pictures of Tyler in MY house make anyone uncomfortable. It's my house with my husband and we will choose what goes on in it. If my tears make you uncomfortable, you're being selfish. If I cry, it's not because of YOU, it's because I have, and will always have, pain in my heart. I have a very select few friends who don't bat an eye at a chance to talk about Tyler. They don't try to push me into "getting over" it. They accept me and love me for who I am and what I've become, a bereaved parent. That status doesn't change over time. And those same friends would cry along with me today. They wouldn't look at me like a freak and expect me to put that pain away so they don't have to see it anymore. They understand that this is my new normal, this is my everyday, and I don't have to justify my actions or feelings to them. To those friends, BLM's or not, thank you for not judging me and accepting every broken piece of me. Well, it was quite different from last year's Mother's Day!
8/9/11 There was more I wanted to add to this but I feel like the time has passed. It doesn't matter how the days differed between the years. I don't think I need to explain how bittersweet yet another holiday was this year. You know how people say that your life is never the same after a baby or "everything changes" after a baby. Well, the Clark family took that to a whole other level. 2 days before Keira was born, Jim accepted a position at a much larger company over 3 hours away from where we had been living for the past 6 year (yes, SIX year). So a week after Keira was born, we put our house on the market. That same week, we all drove down to meet with a realtor and look at houses. We put an offer on a house at the beginning of the next week, it was accepted, then we accepted an offer on ours that same week! Talk about a whirlwind! Thankfully, we didn't have to pack or move anything. Jim's company hired movers to take care of all of that for us (could you imagine packing up an entire house with a newborn?! LOL). He had to start April 18, which made Keira right at 4 weeks old. Since the closing on our house wasn't until May, they put him in a hotel until we closed on the new house. We lived 3 weeks that way...me and Keira in Macomb, Jim in the hotel down here and then he'd drive back for the weekends. ICK. I sent him pictures and videos of her everyday, but as you can imagine, that wasn't near enough. Each weekend, he'd see how much she had grown since the last time so when the movers came to pack and take everything, Keira, the dogs and I just drove down and stayed in the hotel with him until we closed on the new house. 2 dogs and a 6 week old in a hotel room for 2.5 weeks was a little ridiculous, I have to say, but we got through it.
So yes, when we brought a baby home, life did get turned upside down but in every way imaginable! I'm a little overdue for this post for 3 reasons: 1) I have a freaking newborn and getting on the computer is the last thing on my mind. 2) Life got turned upside down just before Keira was born (more to come). And 3) I really needed to get my thoughts straight before rambling to people who (for some) can only judge my well-being on these posts.
Keira's birth and my CS recovery were a breeze. I thought I had an easy delivery and recovery (physically at least) with Tyler so I have no idea why, but I was nervous going in to have Keira. Partially because if Tyler came out not breathing, it wouldn't have surprised me but I was terrified that Keira would. They wanted to put me in the same room I had been in after I had Tyler and they asked if that would be alright. It was really sweet of them to remember and ask. It was totally fine and I was anxious to go back to that room. With all of this grief, I've felt a need to face my fears head-on no matter how sucky they are. By the time I left the hospital, it didn't even feel like the same room. I had faced and beat that monster. For a repeat CS, they monitor mom and baby for an hour before surgery to make sure that everyone is healthy and things are going the way they're supposed to. After they took the monitors off, I had a few tears. Even though everything was fine, what if, by the time they got me to the OR, she had died? I imagined my second child dying and having to hold her lifeless body...again. Having to call the funeral home and ask them to come pick her up after we'd had our time with her. Seriously. But a few short minutes later, I was in the OR, getting my spinal and cath. Jim came in with the video camera (per my demand...er...request), up goes the blue screen and we got started. Jim was able to get Keira's birth on video :) For being "surgical", it wasn't near as gross as I'd imagined. I'd rather watch a CS a million times over a vaginal delivery...THAT is horrifying! Amazing, but horrifying. She was born at 8:56am weighing 8 pounds 2 ounces, 20 inches long and healthy as can be! Jim followed Keira everywhere with the video camera until I could come back to my room after recovery so I wouldn't miss anything of her. I didn't realize it the moment I saw her or the first time I held her, but Jim took a picture of us and it could have been a picture of me and Tyler. She looked IDENTICAL to her brother. I realized it after I had sent the picture people from my phone, but thought that it was just me until they started responding back that she really did look like him. It was beautiful and heartbreaking all at the same time. Part of me so wanted her to look like him (it's so cute when siblings look alike...me and my brother do not), yet I didn't want her to look TOO much like him, if that makes sense. Same as last time, my nurses and my stay at the hospital were beyond excellent. Did I mention I got the same nurse as when I had Tyler? She requested to be with me if she was working :) LOVE LOVE LOVE that woman! Another one of my nurses had lost an infant years ago to an infection (I think), so she totally knew what I was feeling during my stay with Keira. To be honest there were very few tears. I was expecting much worse. I think I was WAYYYYY hard on myself during this pregnancy. If you can have PRE-pardum depression, I had it. Once she got here, it all went away. Kind of funny now how my Dr., Jim and I (and I'm sure lots of other people) were so worried about PPD. Shoot, taking care of her has been the EASY part. There has not been a time since she got here that was harder than pregnancy. The lack of sleep, not a big deal considering that you don't really sleep at the end of pregnancy anyway (not just uncomfortable, but I had A LOT of pain). Her crying the babies cry for no reason, music to my ears! I still don't understand what people mean when they say that the first month (or 2) is so hard. I guess the lack of sleep thing, but when she was only a few weeks old, all she did was sleep. I'd say nursing was the hardest part only because she'd fall asleep and I was worried she wasn't getting enough. I don't know...I'd take the first 6 weeks of a newborn over 9 months of pregnancy ANY DAY! I never wanted to be one of those women that hates being pregnant, especially after losing Tyler. I realize how much of a blessing it is. But that's exactly what happened. My emotional state took a toll on me physically and it was just overwhelming. So anyway, I'm not posting to complain, I guess I just hope that any other momma carrying a rainbow will read and know that if they are feeling this way, they're not alone. Every second of every day was filled with fear and worry. I ended up going to the hospital twice in my third trimester to be monitored because once I was having lots of Braxton Hicks contractions and the other time, I hadn't felt her move in awhile. I was a sobbing mess the second time. It was 2 days before my CS and I just stood in her room, looking at the bedding I'd made and all of her clothes, imagining she'd died. I would have gladly gone insane to escape that feeling. It's one thing to imagine "something happening" to one of your children, it's another to have experienced losing one THEN imagining your healthy one dying. Not pretty. And it's amazing to me how different people can react. A fellow BLM (who I've spoken of often) feels completely at-ease with her rainbow. As soon as she brought him home, she was fine...no fears of SIDS or anything like that. I'm still a little (ok a lot) paranoid, but I'm getting better...slowly. I bet all of the visitors to this site have been bored to tears the last 2.5 months! There has still been quite a bit of traffic! (Even though I'm not posting much, I do check the stats often.) I started working on a blog to catch up from having Keira. I don't want to leave anything out, yet...it's exhausting and time consuming. I don't have the emotional energy or the time to put into the blog that I want to but I'm working on it. I have a lot of guilt about that because let's face it, this is my only direct connection to Tyler. This is the only place where it's okay to talk about how much it sucked to be pregnant with a baby after losing one. How much it sucks to now be realizing all the things you missed out on. And how much it still burns my soul to continue to live my life without my first born.
I'm getting there and I'm working on a few more entries to catch up! I'll be heading to the hospital in just a few hours (I really need to go to bed!) to get prepped for my c-section. Thoughts and prayers are more than welcome! It's going to be a long, emotional day but I'm excited to finally have her in my arms.
A few other babyloss mommas have posted recently about how to handle the "how many children do you have?" question. I'm sure I've blogged a little about this before, but I feel the need to touch on it again. Being 37 weeks pregnant now (that sounds crazy...but I definitely don't feel like it's "flown by" as people say), people like to ask if this is my first. I've come up with a pretty tactful but direct way to answer questions and talk about Tyler. Conversations generally go like this, "Oh you're pregnant! Congratulations! Is this your first?" Then I say, "No, this is my second," then they say, "Oh how old is your first?" Now, I have to say, I'm really glad that this is the next question I normally get because if they said something about the first one being excited to be a big brother/sister, that could get awkward pretty quickly! But anyway, to that, I respond, "Well...he would have been just over a year old." Pretty good, right??? I'm pretty proud of that response. There's no way that they can't "get it" but it's not weird like, "Well, my first died..." or something to that effect. It seems, for me anyway, that the key to talking about Tyler to strangers is to predict conversations. I think of every possible angle the conversation could go, and make sure I have a decent response to each. I don't do it as extensively as I used to, but I do think it's important to be prepared. Having said that, I WAS NOT prepared for the nurse to ask me if I was formula or breast feeding at my post-op appointment following the death of my son! That still baffles me! Thankfully, I haven't seen that woman or had an experience like that since. I know that I could handle it better now than I could then. I was only a week post-partum. I try not to wish anything bad on anyone, but I still hope she feels like an asshole after that. Anyway....back to the subject here...
Even though Tyler would have been 16 months old on the 26th of this month, it's still hard to talk to strangers about him. When first meeting someone, especially if they are pregnant, the first question people ask is how many kids they have/if this is the first/etc. That's just how we are as humans. Not faulting anyone for it, that's just the way it is. Even though I know it's coming and I have an answer for it, I still get this queasy feeling in my stomach. It's almost like butterflies, but not in a good way. Especially cashiers, waitresses, and generally people you kind of HAVE to talk to, but the conversation is small talk. People don't realize that babies aren't always small-talk topics! Those are the times I feel like I want to lie and just say, "Yep, this is our first," and let it go. Is it really worth it to tell them such heavy news in such light conversation? Of course TYLER is worth it, but you know what I'm getting at. And the longer it's been, the more I'm realizing that people unconsciously categorize your loss. Many people don't think that a baby can be born alive and die shortly thereafter for a non-treatable, fatal condition. I certainly didn't. So when people used to ask if I had children, I'd say, "Well, I had my first on Thanksgiving but he didn't make it." I thought that was subtle enough that they would get it. NOPE. Most people assumed (and sometimes asked) if it was a miscarriage or if he was just born too early (incompetent cervix or something like that). Why feel the need to categorize my loss? Yes, I absolutely want people to understand that he was diagnosed with a fatal condition, I carried him another 3 months, he was born alive and died in my arms at 36 weeks gestation...nearly full term. It's my story, the story of Tyler's life...OF COURSE I want them to know all of that. It's obvious to see why that's important to ME, but why is it important to anyone else? I have a BLM (babyloss momma) friend who had an absolutely awful experience yesterday. She was at a mom's group and when new members join, everyone is asked to introduce themselves and tell how many kids they have. She flat-out said, "I hate this question." Do you blame her? But she explained that she has a toddler, she is pregnant and has one in Heaven. The woman next to her compassionately asked if she had a miscarriage. For some of you, you may not understand why it hurt her feelings so much. Well, I'll tell you. Does it really freaking matter if she had a chemical pregnancy, miscarriage, preterm labor that couldn't be stopped, full term still birth or full term live birth? If it was significant enough to HER that she acknowledged it, why does it freaking matter to anyone else? I'm sure the other woman meant no harm, people generally don't. But if you lose a pregnancy, a fetus, a newborn, an infant, a toddler, a teenager...WHATEVER...it's still a loss and it still hurts. I'm not going to get into loss comparison like which is "worse" because it drives me crazy when people debate this, especially in my position. My baby was born alive at 36 weeks and died shortly after. That's the only loss I know and it hurts. Period. If you've had different kinds of loss at different stages, your entitled to have your opinions on the matter because you've experienced it...I'm not, so I stay far from this topic! I have another friend who had a miscarriage, then carried to term her daughter who was born still, then another miscarriage before her first take-home baby. When a woman asked her if it was her first, my friend told her it was her fourth pregnancy but hopefully the first one to bring home. The woman asked if she "just" had miscarriages. But why must people diminish the pain of miscarriage? Yes, it's "common", but so is losing a parent...that doesn't mean it hurts less! For some, it's sad and heartbreaking for awhile, but they move past it and it's just a distant memory that they'd rather forget and rarely think about. For some, it consumes them and is utterly devastating. There is no right or wrong way to handle it, but if that person feels so strongly as to acknowledge that miscarriage as their child, their loss, then it IS significant no matter how YOU feel about it. Does that make sense? Just because this momma only got 2 hours with her son, doesn't mean that he was less important or more important that any of her other children. Anyone can see that her little one in heaven is just as significant as her living toddler and her baby in her belly. It's completely fine to ask about our babies, we love to talk about them since we can't physically watch them grow and show them off. They live on through our memories, so we are quick to share that. But there is a time and a place to get to know a person and their story. There is also a BAD way to handle it...but you just have to stay away from that. I've told Tyler's story to people who acted like they could care less...but I told it anyway. If that other woman would have said to my friend, "I'm so sorry, will you share what happened?" I'm sure it would have been received much better. But after she asked if it was a miscarriage, and my friend said, no, he was full term, the woman said, "Oh, that's stillborn then!" If you're looking for a quick throat punch from a BLM, that's a sure-fire way to get one! To be interested in someone's story is one thing, but to label them one way or another is not okay. I can't stress that enough. Okay, rant over. So, it's getting down to the wire. I have 12 days left until Keira arrives, unless she decides to come on her own before then. I JUST packed my toiletry bag yesterday. I don't even have her blanket and outfit to bring her home in washed and ready. I know I'm "depriving" myself of all the exciting things that most expectant moms dream about, but I've become quite the minimalist about some things. What does Keira absolutely need me to bring to the hospital? They will provide diapers, wipes, blanket and clothing. I will provide the food, snuggles and love. What more does she NEED? Yeah, I could bring some little cutesy headbands and cutesy outfits, but is that really necessary? Her "nursery" on the other hand (which I've started calling "Keira's room" because I don't like the word nursery) is decked out. I've sewn 2 crib sheets, a bed skirt and a ruffle, tiered window valance for each window. Is all of THAT necessary? Absolutely not. But I've also realized that the reason I have no problem doing those things is because if something happens to her and she doesn't come home, I can take those all down and sell them or give them to someone else because they're super cute. I have managed to keep myself detached from just about everything in that room. But if I wash anything, that means 2 things: 1) those things are specifically for HER and 2) I expect her to live and bring her home. I didn't need to wash Tyler's things. It's not like he was going to have an allergic reaction to them. I also have trouble with people saying that I'm "expecting" or that I'm an "expectant mother". It just bothers me. See where "expecting" to bring a baby home got me last time? I guess I'm just taking the word literally. If you're an "expectant mother", by definition, you would be a mother who is expecting to bring her child home...you're expecting to become a mother in the general sense. I have a real problem with expecting anything. The other word I'm having trouble with is "deserve". People say that I "deserve" to be happy or to have a healthy baby. Why? Just because I had something really sucky happen to me? Innocent people go to jail. Drug addicts have healthy babies. Children get shot in drive-by's. Children get cancer. And my baby died. So if I "deserve" to have a healthy child, did I "deserve" to have one die? I don't deserve shit! It doesn't only work one way. Yes, I'd LIKE to have a happy, healthy baby after losing my first...but we don't always get what we want. I would have liked for the whole world to understand that my heart was broken into a million pieces and I needed to be comforted after we lost Tyler, but that didn't happen either. I'm not being bitter or angry and I really hope I'm not coming off that way. I'm just kind of letting my hands type what my mind has been thinking lately. Just as some girls dwell on having the perfect outfit and matching hair bow to bring their babies home in, I dwell on the significant events in my life. If the biggest concern in your life is what hair bow to put in your kid's hair, I'm jealous. I WISH that was a worry for me but it's just not. I always heard people say that carrying to term and losing your child changes your whole perspective on life and I could see that. But to be honest, I never thought that 16 months later, I'd still be feeling VERY much that way. I do get overly concerned about stupid things at times, but it's usually because I'm trying to distract myself from something that is actually important. Something truly worth the worry, but I just can't deal with it at the moment. Perfect example, I love my Thursday night ritual of watching Jersey Shore. What an awful excuse for a TV show. It's terrible, I know! But it cracks me up to watch people make drunken fools of themselves knowing that their every idiotic move will be blasted all over TV! It's like a little getaway from reality. So I wasn't going to, but I really want to show off my window valances because they are just too cute for words!!!! This was my first one and I made the second one with the outside loops a little further apart. That one is better because it doesn't pull as much on the ends, so I moved this one to the corner window (to hide my failure! haha) and the good one to the more visible window. Second blog in one day...what has come over me?!?! I had my second baby shower this past weekend and it was wonderful. So many people came to celebrate Keira and show their love and support to me. The first one (back home) was much the same. Tons of gifts to start her (and us!) off but the love and support can't be described :) My friend, Ashlee, wrote this absolutely beautiful poem in remembrance of Tyler and wrote it on a decorative plate for us. I had to read it to myself before reading it out loud because I knew I'd cry if I didn't! Thankfully, I was able to hold it together during the shower :) So thoughtful and I really needed it that day. It was hard accepting so many gifts and celebrating Keira. Not that in itself, I guess...that was easy because she IS a blessing and SHOULD be celebrated. It was just hard to keep the "what could have been" thoughts at bay. Tyler was my first and it's more traditional or customary to only have a shower for your first. It's overwhelming to have the excitement for her and the sadness for Tyler at the same time. So I needed him to be acknowledged that day, especially there because so many of the guests at that shower have been 2+ hours away through this whole process. They didn't physically SEE me grieving or SEE me pregnant (or if they did, only a few times) and I always felt like Tyler was less real to them. Not saying anything about THEM because they're my friends and I know they love and care about me. It was just one of those things that I thought too much about and let myself create ideas that had no merit. That was all about the first shower...the one from last weekend...was actually much of the same! My friend who had it for me, the decorating queen, Katy, used bright colors and had it in her home so it was very cozy and comfortable. While looking for diaper bags, I realized that I am pickier than I thought I was. Has anyone tried looking for diaper bags lately? Yuck! They're all cheap and ugly! Or if they're actually pretty, they cost an arm and a leg. It's just an organized, glorified tote bag...why the hassle? So, I decided that I wanted to make my own but had no idea how to go about doing it. As I was telling a friend about it, she informed me that's been sewing for YEARS and it would be no big deal for her to make it for me! As appealing as the offer was, I kind of had it in my head that I wanted to make it myself but would gladly welcome the guidance (okay, flat-out direction!) of an experienced sewer. We decided to get together whenever possible and work on it. Turns out, she's more of a quilter and has made beautiful quilts for herself and other people...it's really her passion in sewing...and she's damn good at it. Little did I know, this sneaky little devil (with a halo) had a little rainbow surprise up her sleeve for ME! At the shower, I opened her card and there was a quote inside it that said, "The beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn't mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope." As I was reading it, she said, "The quote goes with the gift." Hmmm... I go on to open the gift and it is the most beautiful quilt with rainbow colored squares (in order of Roy G. Biv!) on one side, heart stitching detail, and pink floral print on the other with a little patch titled "After The Storm". I thought I'd do the same trick as I did with the plate at the other shower...I'd read it to myself first, then I wouldn't cry in front of everyone. I was WRONG. I don't know if I even finished the "After The Storm" part before I lost it, but really, at that point it didn't matter. Everyone in that room knew how much it meant to me and I'm pretty sure everyone was crying along with me. I'm in tears now just writing about it. I have no idea how she snuck this by me and it must have taken her and her daughter MONTHS to put this together! Absolutely amazing :)
I am emotionally exhausted after looking back on my post on the holidays, but I'm glad I read it. That post probably should have been in my private blog because I'm a little embarrassed at how angry I was. BUT...it was honest and I'm all about honesty in this process. And really, how quickly did I come back with a not-so-negative post? Maybe getting my anger out in the open like that is more healing than I thought. And really, the last post about the Potter's mom was really emotional, too. I literally cried all day long because I was just emotional that day. It was a different kind of emotional, though. Not so angry. Some of her posts are sad, some angry, some bitter, but she's generally peaceful and accepting of her position. I would hope that I could be that same way given the circumstance. I won't sit here and try to imagine what it's like to be her because I simply can't. A very important lesson I've learned in this process: NEVER think you know what you would do in a situation unless you've been there and had to make that decision. I've probably said it before, but I'm pro-life (obviously). To be fair, it was a lot easier to be pro-life before all of this was thrown directly into my unsuspecting face. "I would do this..." or "I could never do that..." Unless you've walked the walk, you can't talk the talk.
There was a person on Babycenter a few months (or maybe only a month) ago who was told her baby had some soft markers for Down's then later was told they were wrong and the baby was completely fine. So she had a little scare, but continued her pregnancy in ignorant bliss. When her baby was born, it indeed did have Down's Syndrome. She never made a decision to carry her baby to term or not to...during the follow-up for confirmation appointment, she was told her baby was healthy. She went to the Termination for Medical Reason board and blasted all of those women for "killing their babies" and blah blah blah. Then she came over to the Carrying to Term Despite Fatal Diagnosis board and posted about how glad she was that she had this beautiful Down's baby and how this baby has been the light of her life. No need to come to the CTT group, she's preaching to the choir...WE ALL CARRIED TO TERM. But to go to the TMR board and blast those women for their choice...absolutely unacceptable. She was totally one of those "talk the talk" people who never "walked the walk". She had never been in that situation (OBVIOUSLY). Even if she had known her baby had Down's, she still didn't have a right to say that because not every person on the TMR or CTT boards had a DS diagnosis. I sure didn't. My baby had NO chance of survival. I WISH Tyler had had Down's! Okay, I'm kind of rambling but my point is, you can never imagine what it's like to have to make that decision unless you are directly faced with it. Which leads me to my next subject... I recently was told that a couple I know just found out their little one has Spina Bifida. I won't go into detail to protect their privacy, but I do want to touch on it. My heart absolutely breaks for them. Yes, the baby would survive, but there is also some grieving for the healthy child you hoped for. I can understand that feeling because I felt that way before we got Tyler's fatal diagnosis. I had done just a little google research and when I saw that the baby could have kidney "problems", it was heart breaking to have the picture of my perfectly healthy baby shattered. Having been through actually losing my baby, I don't know how I would feel. I struggled during counseling with what "should" have happened and the way things "should" be. But the counseling made me realize that I only thought that because that's what I wanted. Just because I wanted it doesn't mean that's the way it should be. So at this point, a part of me does feel "entitled" to have a healthy baby. After all, I lost my first, don't I deserve a rainbow after my storm? A very close friend asked me yesterday, while I was telling her about this couple, what I would do (it wasn't out of line for her to ask...she could ask me ANYTHING, she's very privileged haha) if I was them - carry to term or terminate. That's what got me thinking about this whole idea of people who have never directly faced this, saying what they "would do" given a situation. I told my friend that I really couldn't say because I wasn't in their situation. I definitely have a fear of people feeling judged by me. Termination is much more common in our society than we'd like to think and I don't want people who have terminated to feel judged. I may have been judgmental in the beginning (I think it's a defense mechanism of grief, but who knows) but I definitely don't feel that way now. I really just feel like you have to make the best decision for your family and for what you can live with. I read a story on a website called A Heartbreaking Decision or A Heartbreaking Choice (something like that) shortly after Tyler's diagnosis all about women who terminated for medical reasons. One story ended with the woman saying, "On the way to the hospital for induction, I just cried and held my belly and told my baby how much I loved it and how sorry I was." That was pretty much IT for me. I wasn't going to tell my baby that I was sorry...I wasn't going to be sorry. That little sentence TERRIFIED me and really pushed me over the edge on deciding to CTT. Right after that website, I went to my friend, Meghan's, blog and read all about her Potter's angel that was born 3 days before we got Tyler's diagnosis. It was the most beautiful, peaceful story so full of love and appreciation. THAT'S what I wanted for my baby. I wanted him to be in a room full of people who loved him from the moment they knew he existed (even if he was only the size of a pea at that point!) when he was born. I couldn't live the rest of my life feeling like I had to apologize to my baby for ending his life sooner than he and God were ready. Having said ALL of that, I would like to think that I would have no problem carrying a baby with Spina Bifida because there is the hope of bringing that blessing home which is something I never got the privilege of with Tyler. But again, I've never been there and I sure as hell wouldn't judge someone who is there. |
Brittany ClarkI'm blogging in hopes of reaching out to other parents who have to face the most heartbreaking experience in life. Archives
August 2013
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