How to celebrate...

Today, I found myself not wanting to celebrate the Holidays at all. The sadness seems to be seeping in more lately and I find myself having a hard time keeping it together more and more. I had this cute little onesie I got from the Baby Gap last year that had a cute little tee-pee and Indian on it and I keep thinking about how cute Sophia would be in it. I see my niece and her parents doing all of these "first" things together and just die inside. Ornaments are a killer. I have a pregnant ornament in the ornament box that I know will just shatter my heart when I get it out.

The Holidays suck. Last year I was just beginning to show at Christmas time and everyone was so happy. I'm not happy now. I am a shell of myself. I don't even know what myself is anymore. Hard doesn't cut it. Can I just hide for the next 2 months?

Apologies

I finally got a hold of the appropriate authorities dealing with the Dinner and things have hopefully been resolved. I explained to them that they couldn't do anymore than apologize, but they HAD to make it to where this would never happen again, to me or anyone else. I believe I got my point across and I know that all parties involved felt like asshats about it. And they should have. They had the information there and chose not to cross check lists and double check into it. And yes, these were people that would not be affected by HIPA. 

So one problem down, always another to go. Similac seems to think that I am a most valued customer and has put me into their "Gold Moms" program with tons of mailings.... yay fun. I am starting to think that the mailbox may be my worst enemy yet.

Someone is going to get an ear full....

A few weeks ago, my Husband and I got an invitation in the mail inviting us to a Dinner for Labor and Delivery Patients to share our experiences with the other attendees. I made a joke that we could talk about the our experience of finding out I had pre-eclampsia too late or when we went to check in that I had to explain why I was there to the Front Desk and a number of other things. Ultimately, I ignored the invitation, thinking it was a mistake, and shook it off after some tears. Friday night at Dinner, Tyler let me know that there was a phone message on our answering machine reminding us of the Dinner and hey, we could even bring our new baby with us! 

Holy Shit. Did they really just call us to invite our dead daughter to a dinner with an entire room of new parents? I mean I guess I could bring her urn to the Dinner with us, but I am thinking that might be awkward. Tyler did try to call and get us off the list, but no one answered... So this week, I am calling the CEO of the Hospital and getting this all squared away. No one should have to be harrassed by the Hospital that our Daughter was delivered still in. She was dealt with by them, and yet they made this HUGE mistake. The letter was innocent enough, but to call us, and tell us we could bring our child with us...... yah. Not too good.

Not quite sure how I am still able to get through a day with such inconsideration in my life. Seriously, people need to get a clue.

Thank you

I got on here knowing that I needed to write, but before I let everything bottled up out, I wanted to say thank you. Over the past couple of years, I have met some beautiful people going through IF and they have been so supportive. Your support is unending and I love you for that.

Also, thank you to all of those that read and give me the time of day. Just letting me know that you are out there can change a very rough patch into something much less painful. I appreciate everything you give me and for that, I am very lucky.

Remembering

It's in the Eyes

It has been quite hard lately, trying to be a "happy" person. My eyes tell the truth that my face won't though. I have sad eyes. Eyes of someone who feels incomplete and lost. Eyes of an old soul. Sad eyes. 

Someone had mentioned it to me before, but I didn't really think too much of it until I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror. My god.. who is this person? What have I become? I see it in my husband. The other day I was thinking about how cute he was when he would rub my belly and look so proud, and now he doesn't look at me like that. I miss those rubs so much. I miss seeing the pride in his eyes when he looked at me and thought of our little family.

Now he looks at me with deep love, but the happiness is hidden down deep. He shares the pain and it shows in his eyes. To those who don't know, I don't think it would be noticable, but to those that do....what a difference... just how one day changes everything. 

But, we are making it. We are trying to live in a way that could make us happy and does in brief moments. We are mad about each other. Head over heels even and that is nice. It will be 15 years of being together next month, and for right now, that is enough for me.

6 months ago, and it still feels like it all happened yesterday

Today marks 6 months. 6 months of being a different person. 6 months of being held up by family and friends. 6 months of feeling empty.

As soon as I delivered Sophia, I felt empty. It was a huge shock to my body realizing how much she had filled me, both my belly and my soul. When she left me, I was left with a huge hole to fill. For 6 months, I have tried to fill the hole and it isn't happening. Some days, I feel more full than others. Every day is hard, just some are harder than others. Yesterday was a very hard one. 

I have been thinking about this so much lately. I think about my loss, our loss, every day, at least dozen or more times and the emptiness is almost too much to bare. And then I think, a man who loses his wife is a widower. A woman who loses her husband is a widow. A child who loses their parents is an orphan. I am a mother who lost her daughter, but what am I? There is so much shame behind losing a child. No one wants to speak of it and rarely acknowledges the shear loss of it all. 

This past week, I submitted my story to a site dedicated to Mothers and Fathers of babies taken away all too soon. The site is Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope. Put together by a group of women, they focus on making sure no one feels alone after going through such a tragedy. I felt is was important to share my story and show that I am not ashamed of what happened to me. If my story can help someone else who is in my shoes, then I am glad to have shared it. 

Here is my story: I am the face of Stillbirth