Sunday, October 31, 2010
But the photos have an edge to them also. For this was to be Wyatt's first Halloween. He was going to be a pumpkin.
Like so many things, it didn't happen. Another first that he will never receive. Another first that our family will never experience. Instead, we experienced our first Halloween without our son, our child, our little boy.
We skipped out on the family function being held at a parent's house. It would have been too hard. Instead, we sat and watched Forrest Gump. Interesting selection as it relates in so many ways. Life REALLY is like a box of chocolates.
Forrest Gump is now coming to an end, so is this Halloween night. Next, will be Thanksgiving and soon the Christmas music will begin. I haven't decided how to handle these, as we can't skip out, they have to happen. But do we have to be there? Do we have to be present?
Thanksgiving is about being thankful, for that I am not sure I am, not just yet. Christmas is about the birth of a precious child, one who lived. Mine didn't, so I am not sure how to go about Christmas either.
As I was sitting on the couch, brainstorming ways to get out of the upcoming holidays, when I found this:
After wiping the tears from my cheeks and my eyes, I realized that I am thankful and I do have a child who is living. I am thankful that God needed my son. My son was perfect enough in every way that he was already needed back in the land above. He was our special gift, to God.
It isn't going to make Thanksgiving and Christmas better, but understanding this will make the holidays just a little bit easier. For my son is still living, he is just living with God and not us.
And now the feather is floating through the air, as Forrest Gump is over.
Friday, October 29, 2010
Then, without notice, the costume was removed from "the baby's closet", looked at one last time, and placed in a dark plastic storage bin.
Wednesday, October 27, 2010
So, on to tonight's post. It is 9:46p EST and I am just now sitting down to write this. I have put it off for most of the night. Not because I don't want to write, but because I couldn't select a topic this evening. I had so many to choose from. I narrowed down my choices to the following: Public or Private that is the Question, Quotes from "An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination" (because I fell in love with this book), or I Love You But I Don't Even Know You.
I selected the last one, I Love You But I Don't Even Know You.
Upon my return home from work this evening, I logged into FB. Damn FB, it's addicting. And yes, I want to go see the movie The Social Network, because I am that addicted. I am not addicted because I have to know what people are doing, no. I am addicted because I can't go a day without talking to my BLMs.
Back to the point. When I logged onto FB this evening, I came across a post that was shared by a few other BLMs. The post was called "A primer in dealing with dead babies ". It was written by another BLM who goes by Babs. I clicked on the post and began to read it. Immediately, it captured my attention. I felt as though my thoughts were falling out onto the screen (can't say paper, because blogs are part of a GREEN environment, everything is electronic now).
There are several, well a lot, of pieces of this post that I support and agree with 100%. Please find them below:
1. "We don't want to make the fragile grieving mother sad, now do we? We wouldn't want to "remind" her that she loves her baby. I'm going to burst your bubble: your good intentions are bullshit, and hiding behind them like a curtain is only going to get you in trouble. You are hurting people."
2. "Your dainty sense of selfish caution that makes you feel it's okay to deny the existence of a child completely. A child someone loved, cherished, wanted, desperately prayed and hoped for, held in their arms, cuddled, kissed, cried over and will never forget."
3. "A life flickered out of existence and we still have all these dreams and wishes unanswered. No first steps, first babbles, first grade, first love, first illness, first job, first broken heart... no hugs, no "I love you mommys", no graduation, no wedding, no grandkids. That little future is gone forever. All we have left is a loc of hair, a footprint, a bloodstain and a few clothes that touched skin now ashes floating in the wind. A mere memory."
4. "No mother ever wants to think someone forgot her child."
5. "Fuck you and your "good intentions"."
Okay, so there you have it. And yes, I agree with all of them, I agree whole heartily. Number five is harsh, huh? Well, not really, not when you have been in my shoes. This author hit the nail right smack on the head. She didn't shy off a bit. She hit it with one solid smack. And it's needed.
To those who have lossed a baby or child, you understand, I know you do. To those who haven't you never will. You just never will. It isn't something one can imagine without going through it, without living it. Just like I can't imagine the pain of losing a parent, you can't imagine losing a child, if you haven't experienced it.
But it doesn't mean to sweep it under the carpet, never discuss it, or as a good books states "act as if the entire pregnancy never existed", because it did. Dammit, I was pregnant for 29 weeks and 1 day. Everyone saw me pregnant. And now some, a lot, don't recognized it. I can't tell you how many people still avoid me on a daily basis, are you serious? Well, to those of you who do, number five is dedicated to you. Enjoy! Hope you feel like I have for the past almost five months.
To the author of the post, thank you. I added a comment on her post that said, "From the bottom of my heart! You are wonderful, amazing, and so very very right! I love you and I don't even know you. This is my first time here on your blog, but it will not be my last. I will be following from now on. You are so awesome for writing this!!!"
Tuesday, October 26, 2010
Finally, the dark cloud decided to move north and allowed for the sun to return. Upon my return home, I told Brian the news. Immediately, there was a beautiful sunset, as the weather had changed and the whole time we thanked our angel.
Monday, October 25, 2010
I don't care what you think about me after reading this. I have come to the point in this grieving process, where I could careless about what others think about anything. This is my life, my story, my pain, and my journey. If you feel that you need to add you opinion on my life, then I hope this means yours is perfect. If yours is not perfect, then what gives you the right to tell me about mine.
From the day I delivered Wyatt and heard the words from the nurses mouth, I was a little rattled by the whole thing. I remember my nurse, Lelia saying to me that "you will receive a Grabose Family birth certificate, as Pennsylvania doesn't honor birth certificates for babys like yours." It was her job, she needed to advise me of that. I hold no grudge to her.
I do however, hold a grudge to the state, the congressman, the senators, and even the president. What right do they have to decline a law that say parents should receive birth certificates if their child was born sleeping. The parents, in some states, get death certificates. I was one of those parents.
Please explain to me how a state can issue a death certificate for a child who was never born, according to the state. Please explain to me how a mother can feel a child move and kick in the womb and listen to his heart beat on countless echocardiograms, but yet the child isn't alive?
This country amazes me. We can spend money to research life on other planets but we can't issue a birth certificate to a child that was moving In Utero. We can send money to other countries to help rebuild them, and I am not saying I don't agree with this, but we can't spend money to help grieving parents by providing them with a birth certificate. We can hand out death certificates like they are candy, but we can't provide a birth certificate prior to a death certificate. No, because in the eyes of congress, senate, and the president, a birth certificate is something you have to be able to breathe for.
Most states will not issue a birth certificate because a birth certificate is for a "live" birth. So then my argument would be, call it something else. It just doesn't make sense, how can one have a death certificate but not have something showing the lived first. Maybe not a "live" birth certificate, but what about a "Hey people, I lived for ____ weeks/months. I had blood flowing through my veins, my heart was beating, and I was growing. I was able to move and kick. I liked certain foods and flavors. I was a living person" certificate.
I found an organization tonight from a friend on FB. The organization is called MISS Foundation. Another BLM blogged about this group tonight also. We both discovered it at the same time. Please take the time to view this video. It means a lot to me, a lot!
Additionally, I have located the founder of the foundation. Her name is Dr. Joanne Cacciatore. She is a wonderful person. I found her blog and read a few posts, she is amazing. If you are interested in her blog, click HERE.
Although some may think that a birth certificate is just a piece of paper, to me it means that the world recognizes that my son was alive. I am sick and tired of people telling me things like "they aren't alive until they come out", "what you delivered was just a shell", and "he really never lived". Imagine being told that. His body is the only thing I was able to hold after carrying him for 7 months, after going through 26 months to create him, after using up all of our IVF coverage and not getting another embryo, and after happiness came crashing down and shattered every single one of our dreams.
Everyone should be entitled to a certificate stating they were alive at some point, before receiving a death certificate. Life before death, right?
Friday, October 22, 2010
"JUST NOW on my lunch break - I hopped in my car to run to Bed Bath and Beyond and Subway - I happened to notice that my odometer on my car was EXACTLY at 110,000 miles. I thought "well isn't that IRONIC" and then I remembered your post! (okay I have to admit I'm tearing up even as I type this, don't really know why ..). So, I took a picture figuring that I would share this with you when I got back to the office. But then something even weirder (is that a word?) happened - just as I pull into the parking lot back from my lunch break, I looked at the odometer again and, I kid you not, I had traveled EXACTLY 11 miles and it now reads 110,011. Once again, I took a picture because then I was thinking "Ive GOT to share this with Megan!"
She sent her photos for proof and has kindly allowed me to use them in this post. Please have a look for yourself, it clearly shows the 1's.
So, (work term) pulse check..... Everyone still with me? Ya, hanging in? Is it getting deep out there? Have I lost anyone? Not yet.... Okay, great. We have just completed the first part of your ride. We are now moving on to the second part. Please continue to remained seated until the ride comes to a complete stop, as this part of the ride will have you shaking.........
I found several sites that discussed the symbolism of 11:11, but most were just ridiculous, so ridiculous to the point that I couldn't even finish reading them. I came across Genesis 1:11. I read it, and found no correlation. Then, I came across a site that was rather interesting. I started to read the information aloud. Midway through, I was crying but still reading aloud. By the end of the article, I was speechless, one because I just found out that the 1's actually do have meaning, and two because there were things in the article (words that presented themselves) that I had encountered (here we go, aliens again, not really) earlier this week and last week. Then, I realized that in a way, Genesis 1:11 could actually correlate to this what this site was saying, just in a deeper sense.
So, is everyone okay?
What? Am I missing something? Oh, you want more? What was that? You want to know what the site said? Are you sure?
Okay.... here are a few excerpts from the site:
If your attention has been drawn to clocks and watches at exactly 11:11, then read the following. Solara's and Uri's opinions: The endless reoccurrence of these hours 11:11, 11:01, 11:10, 10:01, 10:11, 10:10, 1:01 represents a positive connection and a gateway to the mysteries of the universe and beyond.
11:11 is a pre-encoded trigger placed into our cellular memory banks prior to our descent into matter which, when activated, signifies that our time of completion is near. This refers to the completion of duality. When the 11:11 appears to you, it is your wake-up call. A direct channel opens up between you and the Invisible. When this happens, it is time to reflect on whatever you are doing for a moment and Look Larger. A transfer is in position. You can enter the Greater Reality if you wish pray or meditate and seed your future and also, you can be seeded by the Invisible. You can ask for help in some specific area of your life or simply listen quietly and receive a revelation.
The 11.11 is the bridge our vitality and oneness. It is our pathway into the postive unknown and beyond.
The site is called Global Psychics Inc. and you can view the entire article by clicking here.
I still don't know if I fully believe it all, but come on, for four months this has been happening to me. If you stop and think about it, my son died inside me. His spirit was in me, as it left his body when he died. Maybe this all has something to do with the reason why I see all of the unique times and dates and today, all of the 1's. Maybe Part 1, was what was needed. It needed to be written so I could begin to receive the signs of the 1's and fully understand. I am not sure, but I am sure that this is not just Ironic. There is absolutely no irony in this at all.
I hope you are beginning to understand even better than you may have in Part 1. I do hope that you haven't begun to think I am crazy. Again, just remember, if crazy is something you are starting to think, please call a local doctor.
Okay passengers, I hope you enjoyed your ride. The vehicle is about to come to a complete stop. Please lift your lap bar and exit to the right of the vehicle. If you would like to ride again, you will need to get back in line and wait for the next available car, which will be back around sometime on Saturday. For now, enjoy your day, evening, night, early morning, whatever time it is where you are.
Thursday, October 21, 2010
..... However, if you are going to classify me as nuts, please contact a local doctor so I can begin treatment. That is all I am asking. LOL
Okay, on with the story.
From the very beginning there were signs and it all started the day I found out I was FINALLY pregnant. If you have followed Wyatt's Whisper from the beginning, you know that it took Brian and I forever, 26 months to be exact, to become pregnant. I guess not forever, but it sure did feel like it. After IVF and transfer, I received the call I had been waiting for on 12/16/2009. This day was special and I knew I was getting the call this day, as it was scheduled. I knew it was going to be "good luck". My brother's birthday happens to be 12/16, and he was overseas fighting for our country. It just made sense to find out we were finally pregnant on his birthday. Previously, my brother's birthday always brought me bad luck. I had surgery around his birthday a few years prior and I had ruined his birthday with kidney stones years before. But this year, we had good luck. A sign I should have noticed.
Next important date, 12/24/2009. This was the first ultrasound, the first time we saw our baby and his little heart. I actually have written in my pregnancy journal this: "Today we saw your heart for the first time. It was amazing to watch it beat so perfectly." This was Christmas Eve, the same day we told Brian's family. His heart, I was amazed by his heart, the very organ that failed him. Another sign I should have noticed.
Fast forward to April. I was measuring perfect at my April doctor appointment. It wasn't until May when the doctor realized I nearly doubled my number. But it was right around 4/16/2010 when I popped. This is the same date as a dear friend's birthday. More to come on her in a separate blog. But again, another sign I should have noticed.
After having the cardiologist tell us that Wyatt had HLHS, it was determined that this surgery was going to take place on 6/4/2010. This was after having to hold everything off because I HAD to get an amnio. (Come to find out, it was held off because they really didn't think he was going to make it.) I remember having a conversation with my mom on 6/2 about the surgery. That is when I realized what I should have realize when the surgery date was communicated to us on 6/1. Exactly five years prior to the scheduled date of Wyatt's surgery, 6/4/05, my sister lost her boyfriend in a motorcycle accident. As soon as I realized this, I knew the surgery wasn't going to result in a good outcome. Finally, a sign that I noticed.
Upon waking on 6/4 from the surgery, I learned that my son had passed. I was holding my angel child still in my womb. The doctor said I could hold off delivering until Saturday, 6/4 was Friday. However, my body wanted to deliver. I began contractions on 6/4, but the doctor's were able to control them. Saturday came, and I told the doctor I couldn't handle having to push with a fresh incision across my stomach. He agreed to hold off until the evening and begin the induction. He requested that I not deliver on Sunday for the fact that it was my birthday. I remember him saying "Psychologically, it just wouldn't be good." Well, guess what? I delivered my angel on my birthday 6/6. A sign that was noticed!
As you can see, from the beginning of his life until the end, Wyatt had a fascination with dates, and he continues to have this fascination.
After Wyatt grew his wings and his service was held and Brian returned to work, I began to notice several signs. I realized that the fascination was no longer with dates but instead with time. I began to realize that I always seemed to look at the clock when it was exactly the same numbers. For example, 1:11, 3:33, 5:55, 11:11. It still happens. It has been four months now, and it still happens. Every time I see it, I get chills. I have even begun to photograph it and recently I have clued my coworkers in at work and mention something when I see it. It is something that occurs about 3-4 times a day. A sign? Well it is being noticed.
Just yesterday, I realized that the fascination of dates is presenting itself again. I needed to schedule an annual with my OBGYN, the same one that saw me with Wyatt. I had tried to schedule this before, but they didn't have their 2011 calendar ready. I called yesterday and explained to the receptionist that I wanted an appointment as quickly as possible, as this appointment was going to determine when I could start IVF again. She explained I needed to wait until after 1/10 for insurance purposes, but that there was an opening on 1/11. I took it. I then realized last night, that the date is going to be 1/11/11. Like I said, a sign. This time, I notice it.
I remember hearing the words in a song when I was a teen, the words were "Isn't it ironic, don't you think?" and the song was "Ironic" by Alanis Morrissett. One could say that what I have seen with the dates and times is just ironic, but to me it doesn't fit the definition of ironic.
So there you have it. Part one of "I hope you don't think I am crazy".
.... Just a quick reminder, if you feel that I am nuts, have lost my mind, or just plain crazy, remember contact a local doctor so I can begin treatment. LOL. Thanks!
Wednesday, October 20, 2010
I remember reading blog posts from other BLMs while I was on maternity leave. I remember some of them talking about how the pain was subsiding just a bit. I remember thinking, that is never going to happen, I will be in pain forever. But that is not the case.
It still hurts that you are gone and that you are no longer physically here with me. But I have come to realize, through the help of others on FB and through blogs, that you are still with me and you will always be with me. I lost you and wish so bad that it never happened, but the time we had together I will cherish everyday. You will remain with me forever now, you will always be in my heart and on my mind.
Initially I thought, "This isn't fair! I never heard him cry, never got to see his eyes, and never held him while he was breathing." But I was wrong. I was blessed to carry you for 29 weeks and 1 day, feel you kick and move inside me, and help you grow strong to live longer than any of the doctors anticipated. With it being four months since you grew your wings, I can now understand that I was even blessed to lose you while you were still in the womb. You didn't have to fight with this world or come out into the cold. You were able to rest peacefully in the comfort of what you knew as your home.
As I said, I feel like the pain is starting to lift. It seems as though I can get through a day without tears. I am beginning to understand that life didn't stop on June 6, 2010. I am understanding that life was just starting. A life that looks differently to me and to you, but one that looks right to God. One that God had planned before you were created, before Daddy and I were married, and before I was born.
A few months back, I remember having a conversation with a wise person. I was upset about losing you and explained I couldn't make sense of it. This wise person said, "I understand that you feel your life is very unorganized right now and that your life is just not what you planned. But remember when you look at things from a from a bird's eye view, everything appears very straight and organized. He sees your life that way right now, very straight and organized."
I have held on to that conversation for the past few months. I find myself coming back to it almost everyday. That very wise person really knew what she was talking about. For everything there is a reason, even for the loss of my son. Why, I don't know. It isn't meant for me to know right now. But, from a bird's eye view, the reason could be just around the corner, again not for me to know.
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Upon entering the store, we were amazed at the size of each piece of chocolate. There was a chocolate making center in the middle of the store, of which, I would have loved to try out. (The only reason I didn't was because I didn't want the employees to think that something was wrong with me. I am an adult not a child.) At the front of the store, there was a Hershey Kiss displayed and the little "flag" was spinning around the top. It was so awesome.
We eventually ventured our way to the back of the store and we quickly became aware of the fact that we could purchase coffee and Hershey baked goodies. It was freezing outside, so we did just that. We ordered two cocoa coffees and a Hershey chocolate cupcake and a Reese's cookie. We needed to wait for the coffee to brew, so we continued to "play" in the store. We were having so much fun pretending to eat the chocolate and looking at the larger than life candy bars.
Then reality struck me....... It was this sharp gut wrenching blow to the gut. I happened to see a Hershey's onesie and bib. I don't honestly know what was wrong with me, because I quickly opened my mouth to say "Hey Hon, lets get this for Wyatt!".Um, hello, reality check, Wyatt isn't here. He is never going to be here. What the heck is wrong with you. Do you honestly think this is all a dream? Wyatt will never wear a onesie or a bib. Get with it already.
Thursday, October 14, 2010
Tomorrow is October 15, just a normal day for most, it was for me until this year. I was ignorant to the number of things that could go wrong during a pregnancy. It took us so long to become pregnant, that when it happened, I figured the road to getting there was the worst part. I was so very wrong.
For my entire pregnancy, I was so concerned about cleft palate, I don't know why, but I was so focused on making sure that the baby didn't have it. I remember at the 20 week ultrasound, I asked the tech if she could look to see if the baby had a full palate. She explained "the baby" (we didn't what to find out the gender) had a perfect palate. Boy, if I could only go back to that ultrasound. I wouldn't care about the palate. Instead, I would have asked about the heart and the fluid.
Never did I think that I would loss my child. They say, "Once you get past the first trimester you are good." Well, they are WRONG. I got to 28 weeks, the third trimester! And, I wasn't good, the baby wasn't good, and life changed forever!
The day I lost my son, was the day that I realized that nothing is permanent, nothing! I began to quickly realized that there are things that can happen that are just unexplained. My entire pregnancy I was so focused on a cleft palate, something that doesn't cause many complications and something that can be fixed with surgery. Never did I consider the fact that my child could have something so wrong with him that even the best doctors in the United States could not fix what was wrong. I never gave thought that the very first organ that developed in my son's body could actually be the very cause for his death.
As I was ignorate to the many things that could go wrong with a pregnancy, I was also ignorate to a day that should be recognized more than it is currently being recognized. For many, tomorrow is just another day. For me, tomorrow, October 15, is a day to REMEMBER! For in my life, October 15 is now and will always be known as National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Please make October 15 important to you from now on also.
Remember my son, my Wyatt James!
Monday, October 11, 2010
Over the past four months, I have come to realize that life as I used to know it is over. It is gone. No more are the days when the worst thing in my life was the fact that I was over tasked at work, or that I had to get gas on the way home, or that I was locked out of my own house, or that another bill came that was to be covered by insurance. Instead, I face a new reality. The reality of living my life without my son, when I did everything right in my pregnancy. The reality of not knowing if I will become pregnant on my own, as it had never happened before. The reality of knowing that we have hit the lifetime maximum for IVF coverage and I only ever had one egg, one chance, and it didn't work.
Today, like many others, I don't know whether to wear the happy mask or the sad one. I struggle with this everyday. I know that Wyatt would choose the happy one. But happy isn't all that easy. There are days when I look at his photos and think to myself, "Really? Are you really serious? He is gone forever, and never coming back, but why???" Then there are other days when I think, "Thank God. I am so grateful that my child didn't have to suffer for long. He didn't have to come out and face this cruel world with an issue that would set him back from the "normal". He is at peace now."
I feel as though some people may think that since I have hit the four month mark, that things should be easier. That things shouldn't upset me as much. That life should be starting to get back to "normal". But um, hello, that is not the case. My life will never be back to "normal". Never.
I will always have this empty void, this hole in my heart. This empty place where so many dreams and memories were suppose to exist. A place that is now vactant, desolate, and abandoned.
A place that regardless of how much time may passes, it will always require something to hide the pain and the emptiness, something only a mask can cover.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
But BAM! Reality strikes, just like lightening, right into the core of me. It takes the warm fuzzy feeling and slams it against the coldest harest rock possible. In return, I feel this bottomless pit in my heart, yes I actually feel it. I get butterflies in my stomach, and I realize that my life really is that horrible nightmare. The one that has the worst ending possible. The one where the baby dies.
The baby. The one that we worked so damn hard to create. The one that we were so patience in waiting for. The child who was loved so much before he even existed. That baby. That is the one that dies. Not the one whose mother doesn't want it, or the one whose mother did drugs during the pregnancy. Not the baby who was unplanned or the one whose parents decide to leave the child in the dumpster. No, not those babies, but our baby has to be the one who dies.
Tuesday, October 5, 2010
Saturday, October 2, 2010
This morning after getting out of bed, I decided it would be a good time to sit with the laptop and update yesterday's photo reminder of Wyatt. After completing this, I decided to play a bit on the computer, searching for tours for our trip to Chicago. All the while, I was moving around, walking from the living room to the kitchen, then back to the living room.
It would have made perfect sense for it to fall off, but it didn't. Nope, after more than two hours of being awake, I happened to look in the mirror and I noticed it. A small, white feather. It was on the right shoulder of my shirt. And it wasn't just laying there, it was attached.
I do have a feather pillow, so it makes sense as to why I picked up the feather, but why after two hours of walking through the house and doing daily tasks was the feather still attached? Funny how the little feather appeared, when just two days ago I had made the comment about not receiving feathers any longer.
It was like the feather was taking a ride on my shoulder, just close enough to make me understand that he is always with me, regardless of the signs!