Three Years Ago

It's strange how a certain date can feel like yesterday and also like a lifetime ago. Some days it almost feels like it was in a different lifetime, like I was a completely different person. Other days I remember it so clearly like it just happened, rather than a distant memory. Part of me wishes I could go back three years and cherish the few weeks I had with you. Part of me just wants to look ahead and be grateful for everything I have. The truth is I remember that day being scary and sad. I remember feeling helpless and hopeless. Now I feel stronger and happier. I have so much now and yet I will never forget the day I lost you, one of my precious children. I will never fully be able to move forward without you. I will never be able to forget you. I will never want to forget you or the hope you once brought me or the immense joy I experienced when I first learned that I was chosen to be your mama. I thought you were the answer to all my prayers. And in a way, you were. Your brother is the one who ultimately became the child I always wanted, but you my sweet Poppy are the child I never knew I wanted. The child who I will always cherish, always love, always wish I could know better. I will always be proud and feel blessed to be your mama.

Happy Birthday in Heaven sweet baby! You are deeply missed and treasured always!

This Time... Again

It's the holiday season once more. Even though it has become easier to endure this time of year, I know for many, myself included, that after losing a child, the holidays are forever bittersweet. This year, like last year, I have my sweet boy Louis with me. He fills the house with his cries and laughter and the energy that only a little boy can possess. He runs around with curiosity in his eyes. He comes up to me and smiles for just a second before returning to his crazy antics. I dress him up in adorable red and green pajamas and watch his eyes light up when we turn on the Christmas lights.

He is a blessing. He is the blessing of all blessings. This I know.

But with all my heart, I wish there were more presents under the tree. I wish I could take one of those family photos with one child looking at the camera smiling and the other, completely oblivious, picking his nose and looking at the ceiling. I wish I had all my babies here with me. But mostly I wish this could just be happy joyous festive time. Instead of the bittersweet, wish-I-could-change-so-many-things time of the year.

Yesterday was Poppy's 2nd birthday. It feels like forever ago that we learned she was gone. I remember feeling so lucky to be pregnant again thinking that it would somehow make the holidays easier to get through. December is such a difficult month to lose a baby. It's hard, really more like impossible to get in the Christmas spirit when the one person you want to celebrate with the most is gone.

It's now been almost 3 1/2 years since Gabriel died. I imagine Louis and Gabriel opening presents together, playing with new toys on Christmas day while watching Christmas cartoons, the way my sister and I used to do when we were kids. I wish Louis could have that. I wish my family could have that. I wish for once we could have a complete Christmas with no one missing.

Sending love, peace, hope and healing to all of you this holiday season.

And happy birthday to my little Poppy celebrating her birthday and Jesus' birthday with her brother in Heaven this year.

Hope

It's been an entire year already. Last year at this time, I was losing my second baby. I was scared and disappointed and wondering whether I would ever have a living baby. If you had asked me a year ago if I thought I would have a baby in my arms in time for next Christmas, I would have said no. I would have said that I was about to give up all hope of ever successfully bringing a healthy child into this world.

But here I am. I now have a three month old little boy and he is healthy and breathing and squirmy and adorable. And I feel like the luckiest person in the world.

It's hard to believe how much my life has changed in the past 365 days. I'm not saying life is perfect. I'm not saying it's easier now that a baby's cries fill my home. I'm just saying that it's different. That it's better in so many ways. And so incredibly more exhausting and overwhelming in other ways.

This life we all get to live is truly amazing.

It's just so beautiful.

But mostly, it's far too unpredictable to ever lose hope.

And far too short to ever stop dreaming.

Happy Birthday Sweet Baby. You've taught me how to love life and to never give up hope. <3

Dear Poppy

Today was the day you were supposed to be born alive and healthy and perfect and beautiful. You were supposed to be the baby who came home with us. The one with pink skin and chubby cheeks. The one to restore joy where it's melted away. The one to grow up here on earth. The one to melt our hearts with your cries and laughter. You were supposed to be the one.

Of course today you're not being born. You died many months ago and I'm still not sure why. I don't know if I failed you or if I could have saved you. I don't know why you had to leave so soon.

I miss you and I miss who you could have been. I'm sad knowing that I'll never get to hold you or hear your voice or touch your skin. I'm lost because I have no answers. Just a deep void where you once filled my world with hope.

But today I am also feeling blessed. Because of you so much love and beauty has come into my life. You came to me at a time when I needed you and for that I will always be grateful. I may never be able to tell you that I love you or show you how much you mean to me, but you'll always hold a special place in my heart. I will never stop thinking about what you would have looked like or who you would have grown up to be.

I wish I was giving birth to you today. I wish I could sing you Happy Birthday and that your big brother could hold you on his lap and give you lots of kisses. I wish that everything could be different and I'm sorry that I never got to give you the beautiful life that I dreamed of giving you.

You are so very loved little one. You are missed and thought of often. And I will always and forever consider you one of the greatest gifts of my life.

Starting Over

It's hard to admit this to myself, but there are days when I really wish I could start over. I wish I could rewind my life and go back to January 2012. That's when the first domino toppled over: Gabriel's conception. That's when all of this was first put into motion. That's when everything changed far beyond my control, when my life slowly started to fall apart.

I wish I could get a re-do on the last two years of my life. I wish I could have one chance to take back one choice. Because I am constantly wondering what my life would be like now if I had done one thing differently. Could one choice made differently have had the power to change my fate?

This time, two years ago, I remember wanting a baby so badly. I was so anxious to get pregnant. I was naively planning to have three children and I wanted to get started before I turned 30.

Now, I wonder what could have been if I had been more patient. If we had conceived one month later, would that have made all the difference in the world? Would that baby be a happy, healthy 15 month old squirming in my arms while I blog about cloth diapers instead of stillbirth?

I think I will always question what could have been if I had been patient and waited a couple months... if those two months could have spared me the suffering I've endured over the past two years.

It's heartbreaking and frustrating to know that I am exactly where I was then. Two years ago I was sitting here wishing for a baby, scouring the internet for fertility tips, trying with all my being to make my greatest wish come true. It's been two years and no progress has been made on the baby front. Nothing has been given in exchange for 24 agonizing months of loss and disappointment and failures and hopelessness and tears. I have nothing to show for years of trying relentlessly to have a family.

I want to scream at the universe. What else do I have to do?! Why can't this just be easier?! Over the past two years, I have had to watch every single person I know have healthy babies while I am STILL waiting for mine!! This is not fair!! This is not right!!

I look back over the last 24 months and I see so many tears, so many lost moments, so many empty days. I see my heart breaking over and over again, my faith dwindling, my hope fading, my dreams melting as my ovaries just continue to age and age.

It's becoming harder and harder to imagine what could have been. It's almost impossible to imagine my life turning out how I thought it would. I feel like over the past two years I've drifted further and further away from that life. I can barely remember what it felt like to dream of a future, to make plans, to have the luxury of choosing to have children. I often wonder if the universe actually laughed at my 3-children-before-35-plan.

Sometimes, I wish I could go back to that time when my dreams had no boundaries just to remember for a moment what it felt like to have endless possibilities in front of me. That blissful time before I knew the risks of embarking on a new journey. Before I knew just what the road to motherhood had in store for me.

I think of everything I've been through on this journey, and I can't help but wish it had been different. I wish it had been easier... a lot easier. I wish I had been given a different baby, a healthy one that I could have kept.

But then my heart sinks knowing what I would have to sacrifice. And I realize that even if I could start over, I could never choose another path. I could never knock down a different domino. As hard as this life is, I could never give up the two babies I carried, the two babies who I love with all my heart, the two babies who aren't here but who I think about every single moment of every single day. Because even though I wish things were different, I don't wish for a life without them.

Even with the enormous pile of hardships that weighs heavily on my soul, this is the only life I have with them in it. This road is the only one that could have led me to both of my precious children. Whatever choice I made two years ago that has landed me here, I know in my heart that I could never choose differently.

Because they're my babies. And I'm their mother.

And that's the one thing that I would never want to change.

I Will Always Wonder

Was it my fault?

Was it something I ate?

Something I did?

Something I failed to do?

Is it because I didn't take my vitamins everyday?

Or because I waited too long to start taking baby aspirin?

Should I have demanded more blood work and prenatal testing?

Should I have gone to a different doctor?

If I had, would it have even mattered?

Was it that I complained about having morning sickness?

Or that I breathed a tiny sigh of relief after the first ultrasound?

Could I have done something, anything, to have prevented this loss?

If I had made a different choice at some point, would it have made all the difference?

Could her death have been prevented?

Could I have prevented it?

Did my body fail to keep her safe?

Or was she just too fragile to survive?

What happened?

Why her?

Why me?

Why us?

Why?

Good-Bye 2013

Once again we've reached the eve of a new year... another year is coming to a close and leaving us with nothing but memories.

I wish I could look back on this year and see nothing but joy and feel perfectly at peace with its end.

Instead, 2013 will always be a year that ended with despair and emptiness. I wish I didn't feel this way, but I can't help but feel saddened and disappointed. I wanted so badly for this year to be one of redemption.

I remember at the start of this year that there was so much I wanted to do. So many goals were set that weren't reached. So many dreams were dreamed that weren't realized. So many wishes were made that weren't granted.

I guess ultimately I feel both relieved and reluctant to leave 2013 behind. Part of me is ready to move on, to leave this year in the past and cross my fingers that things are better in 2014. But part of me is desperate for more 2013, a little more time to try to recover what was lost. I feel cheated out of time with Poppy and the chance to have a rainbow baby.

Now time is up for 2013. And I'll never have another year with Poppy. And I'll never have the opportunity to have a baby in 2013. And I'll never again be able to end this year with a gain instead of a loss.

Nevertheless, it's time to say good-bye to 2013. I may not be completely ready for it to end, but at least this is one ending that is immediately followed by a new beginning.

~Last sunset of 2013~

Poppy's Special Place

Yesterday, we decided that we would find a nice quiet place and bury Poppy. I honestly didn't know what else to do. Turning her over for medical testing seemed pointless and potentially disappointing and throwing her in the trash or down the drain just didn't feel right. She might be the tiniest person I've ever known, but I still think she deserves a special place. Also, I think it will be nice to have somewhere to go to feel close to her.

So, we wrapped her in a small blanket, buried her beneath the roots of a shady tree, placed a rock as a place-marker, said our good-byes, then scattered a handful of poppy flower seeds nearby. I'm not sure that any flowers will actually be able to grow but I thought it might be nice to try. Maybe one or two will somehow make it and then every spring, Poppy's place will be beautiful decorated with flowers.

Afterwards, we went to the beach and were blessed with a gorgeous sunset under which to write Poppy's name. Even though I wish more than anything else that I could still be pregnant, I feel truly lucky to have had any time at all with her. 

Happy Beginnings

I really truly believed with all my being that this pregnancy would have a happy ending. I know it sounds crazy, but I felt very little fear and apprehension during this last pregnancy with Baby #2. It's hard to explain. I felt certain in my heart that this baby was the one. The one who would survive. The one who would be born pink and screaming. The one who I could hold in my arms and never let go. I just couldn't help feeling like she was meant to be.

After waiting so long just to get pregnant, I was so happy and excited (and a little bit shocked) that I don't think worry had space to settle in. Part of me was concerned early on, but once I saw the baby's beautiful strong heartbeat, joy completely replaced all fear. I really wanted to enjoy this pregnancy and embrace it as a celebration of new life. This baby didn't deserve to be part of my grief. I didn't want her to live in the shadow of loss. I wanted to look forward to her birth, not fear that I might lose her too.

But just a couple of weeks after first seeing my tiny seedling, an ultrasound revealed she was gone. Another ultrasound confirmed it and a week later, my body finally let her go.

No matter what happens, this baby will always be a memory of joy in my heart. I will forever associate her with happiness, hope and pure love. She was a miracle from the beginning and even though I'll never understand why she died, I am so very grateful for the time we had together here on earth. And I'm glad that I let myself feel joy instead of fear and love instead of grief. We may have only had ten weeks together. But they were the most amazing ten weeks. And they were special.

So, no happy ending after all.

But the happiest of all beginnings.