Roses

I am so touched to have received this rose from C. Her words have touched me more than I can tell her and I have found comfort, company and healing through her blog.

I am passing this rose along to two women who keep me thinking and keep me dedicated to walking this path with you all, Coggy and Clarissa.

Now it's your turn. Here's what to do:


1. On your blog, copy and paste the award, these rules, a link back to the person who selected you, and a link to this post. You will find the story behind the Pink Rose Award and other graphics to choose from there.


2. Select as many award recipients as you would like, link to their blogs (if they have one), and explain why you have chosen them.


3. Let them know that you have selected them for an award by commenting on one of their posts.


4. If you are selected, pass it on by giving the Pink Rose Award to others.


5. If you find that someone you want to nominate has already been selected by someone else, you can still honor them by posting a comment on their award post stating your reasons for wishing to grant them the award.


6. You do not have to wait until someone nominates you to nominate someone else.

Pieces

Sometimes I feel like I leave a piece of Owen with every person I tell our story. I don't tell everyone. I like to hoard him to myself- to make sure that I only share him with people that I feel will appreciate him and all he means to me.

Then again, maybe that's yet another story I tell myself to try to feel better about it all.

Exhaling?

Well I did it. I survived. At this point with Owen, I was no longer pregnant. I was officially starting my life as a deadbaby mom. In fact, I was still holding him in my arms. Its bittersweet.

Everyone had told me that once I got past that day in this pregnancy, I would be able to breathe easier. I know it's early yet, but so far that doesn't seem to be true. In fact, right now, I feel even more anxious. I feel like I'm on borrowed time. I had a disturbing dream last night where I was at the perinatalogist's office and having all sorts of tests and I remember saying, its not happening again, is it? The nurse turned to me and said, you didn't actually think you were going to bring home a baby, did you?

I think that might be the source of this new anxiety. I don't want to admit it, even to myself, but I am starting to think I will bring home a baby. Knowing what I do, that seems like a dangerous and somewhat foolish belief. I just want this baby here. How many days until August?

The Longest Day

At this exact point in my pregnancy with Owen, I woke up to that terrible stillness. And of course, what followed changed me forever. I can't help but compare. This morning, I woke to the gentle tap tap tap that I've be accustomed to. This baby seems so different from Owen. More active in general (for which I am eternally grateful), but calmer in movement. I can't help but wonder if Owen's periods of intense activity were a sign that something was wrong. Should I have known? Was he trying to tell me something that I couldn't hear? What could this new baby be trying to tell me?

I imagine this will be a very long day.








* I'm going to take Niobe's advice and set up a link to some ultrasound pics for those who want to see them, but our scanner is acting all wonky, so it may be a few more days.

Unexpected

Not long ago, I spent some time with a very good friend of mine and her twin boys. In what sometimes feels like the ultimate irony, the boys were due a week and a half before Owen (in October) and were actually born a week and half before Owen (in July.) Only her boys lived. As we now live half a country apart, this was the first time I had seen the boys in person. I was pretty nervous about how it would feel, seeing these little ones that, in so many ways, were such a stark reminder of what could have been mine. The reality of it wasn't as bad as I imagined, and it got me thinking. Sometimes I wonder if there was a part of me somewhere that knew I wouldn't bring Owen home with me. When I think back on my pregnancy with him, I remember feeling a sense of reserve that I really had no reason to feel. Maybe I'm re-imagining the past to make myself feel better, I don't know. All I know is that while holding those boys, not once did I think "this could have been me." And I really expected to.

So Far So Good

We met with the perinatalogist today for another scan. I am pleased to say that everything looks really good at this point. The baby is appropriately sized and everything seems to be growing and developing as it should. It's also really cute. I have a fabulous picture that I am considering posting, but I'm trying to remain sensitive to those of you who would find that very hurtful. I'll admit there's a part of me that wishes s/he would be born now. I know that's crazy, and anyone who has had an extremely premature baby would like to shoot me for saying it, but I can't help but feel like at least s/he is alive at this point.

The perinatalogist wants to see me again in about 6 weeks to check on growth, development, etc. I wish I had his confidence that we will get that far. I want to.

I Can See Clearly Now

Well, close enough anyway. My eye is much better, thank you all for your kind wishes. They have decided to turn off the respirator for JD's grandmother. That should be happening this morning. So I guess we wait and see. I truly believe that is the kindest decision, but still we are sad.

Tomorrow afternoon, I go back to the perinatalogist for another scan. I am scared, but hopeful. I want to say more about it, but the words just won't come right now. Perhaps I am more afraid than I want to admit to you, or to myself.

When It Rains

Ugh. This weekend K. was sitting on my lap and turned around stuck her finger in my eye. I immediately thought I was going to die. As the hours passed and my vision got worse and not better, I headed over to the E.R. It turns out I have a severe co.rneal ab.rasion (in layman's terms, she scratched the h#ll out of my eyeball.) It is unbelievably painful*, and they usually give you some kind eye drops for pain but, as I am pregnant, I cannot have those. The eye doctor, looking at my medical history, said "I can tell you are a tough lady. You'll survive." I wanted to bite him.

Then, after I get home from the E.R., JD gets a call from his mother. His grandmother has had a massive stroke and is in a coma, on a respirator. There are a lot of issues within JD's family, but his grandmother has never been anything but kind to me and I am very sad for her, and for her husband. He is having to make some very hard decisions.

Add this to the fact that I am rapidly approaching my 26th week of this pregnancy. Owen died without warning during my 26th week. Needless to say my coping skills are currently stretched to their limits. I want to scream "Enough already!" to the universe. Will you join me?



* I am currently mostly blind in my right eye and will be for a few more days. It took me an embarrassing amount of time to get this typed up, so I will be reading but not commenting on your blogs for a few more days. Sorry, I am thinking of all of you though.