Tuesday, March 11, 2014

33 days

It's been 33 days since we said goodbye to Gabriel. Several times a day, I place my hands in the same position they were when holding him and I can feel him. I can remember exactly what it felt like to hold him. I hope that never goes away. I am so, so sad and so tired of being sad. I'm tired of being pissed. I'm just tired. I'm going to a M.E.N.D. Support group on Thursday. I'm looking forward to it. I need to feel like I belong. I hope I'll find acceptance there. If I didn't have Noah, I'm confident that I would not leave the house, maybe not even get out of bed some days. He needs me though and I need him. I've had to make deliberate decisions to keep going for him. Although, I'm tired, I'm thankful he is keeping me moving. One of the hardest parts of all this, is that some days really are good. An entire day of good and then out of what seems nowhere, I'm back in this painful, exhausting pit. It feels like it's been 33 weeks or 33 months, not 33 days.

Monday, February 10, 2014

Gabriel

Wednesday, February 5th I got up as usual to my sweet Noah calling "Rach! I need my vitalins!!" So I stumbled into his room, scooped him up into our usual morning embrace and realized I was bleeding. Shoot, I thought. I'm so sick of this roller coaster of emotions. I'm sure it's nothing...again, but dang. I wish this pregnancy could just be easy. No more worries. After I got my boy his vitamins and milk, I went to the restroom and saw what I already knew. It was about 6:45, the doctor's office didn't open until 8:30. So over the next two hours, I debated. I'll call, after all it's better to be safe than sorry. Nah, I'm not hurting. I'll just wait it out. As long as I'm not hurting, theres no danger and it will stop on its own. I even got Noah and I dressed to go to our exercise class (looking back, I can't believe that). It would be better to keep busy and keep my mind off the bleeding, than sit around worrying. Right at 8:30, my reasonable side was winning. I would call. Wouldn't hurt. After explaining my symptoms to the receptionist, she calmly told me to come in "just in case". I loaded my purse with snacks for Noah and headed to the doc's office in my workout gear. We didn't wait long before the nurse called me back. I explained what had happened and she leaned me back to listen for the baby's heartbeat. We carried on casual conversation, as I saw her beginning to sweat. She said she was bummed to start her day like this. She explained that she is always able to find the heartbeat. "Must be a boy she said. They are always harder to find". She left and said the Dr. would be in shortly to visit and try again to find the heartbeat. I wasn't panicked. I think I was too busy keeping Noah entertained to panic. He was good. He was so good through the whole two hour plus appointment. Other than eating half of my brand new chap stick and demanding that he knock on the door repeatedly yelling, "Burt (from Sesame Street) come here", he could not have been more calm and well behaved. After 15 minutes or so, the nurse came in and told me they were getting the sonogram ready for me, so we could check in on the baby. I got a little nervous, but also excited. I bet I'll find out the gender!! Dr. Stevenson, then came into the room, a little quicker than normal, a little more serious. "I want to find the heartbeat before you go for the sonogram. She tried and tried with no success and helped me up and walked me  straight across the hall. I heard her say, "This is Rachel. She's  17 weeks. I can't find her tones". Noah sat in the chair next to the bed, with a brand new bag of goldfish. Thank God for goldfish. Jenny, looked at the baby for a few seconds. I watched on the big tv screen and smiled with joy as I saw a precious, perfect baby on the screen. It was dark and silent. I heard her whisper my name. I turned my head and looked into her eyes. Again she whispered, "Rachel, I'm so sorry. I have really bad news." The next  few minutes are a blur. I remember the tears immediately fell. I asked for James. Jenny brought Noah to me and told him to give Mommy a hug. I don't think he has ever seen me cry, but thankfully he didn't  really react to it. He hugged me and sat in my lap. I called James and he immediately headed our way. Jenny explained that she didn't see anything obviously wrong with our child. She sat with me until Dr. Stevenson came for me. Over the next hour or so, we talked about our options and got a plan in place. James arrived and took over Noah duty and also did his best to take in all of this craziness. I was given something to help my body prepare for labor and we left with instructions to check into the hospital that night at midnight. In between all of this, I was on the phone with my mom trying to figure out what to do with my sweet Noah. We left the office, headed straight home and packed a bag for Noah. He fell fast asleep, which was such a gift. James and I were able to talk and process and cry all the way to Tyler. We spent a couple of hours in Tyler and left Noah there with my mom. My Dad came back to Dallas with us and we spent the next few hours begging the clock to finally tell us it was time to stop waiting and start doing. I frantically put our house in order, because I knew I would want to return home to peace and not chaos. We left home around 11:30 and drove downtown. I was a nervous, sad, scared, tearful lady walking into Labor and Delivery. I walked to the desk and quietly said my name, my doctors name and that I was scheduled for a midnight check-in. The admissions clerk said, "excuse me". I repeated my exact sentence slightly louder. She looked from my eyes to my belly to my eyes and said "and why are you checking in?" "I'm here to deliver my 17 week old baby" in a cracked voice. I was quickly escorted to a freezing cold room by a very kind nurse who welcomed us and gave me instructions for changing and getting settled. Soon after getting into bed, Ashley our first nurse came in and got all our info into the computer. She was very kind and had a soft voice. She wasn't totally confident, but I'll take genuine kindness over confidence any day.  Unfortunately, the night was slow moving and didn't go according to our doctor's plan or what we expected. I don't remember the exact timeline, but basically one thing happened each hour. I thought we'd be well on our way with the induction process by 3 am, but I don't think I even got my IV by 3:00. I knew that I did not want to be in any pain during the entire process. There was no point in physical pain along with all the emotional pain. The anesthesiologist came around 5 (I think). He was very kind. I had not cried since arriving until mid way through the epidural. All of the sudden I couldn't take it. He was speaking to me, as well as the nurses? a recording?, so he would switch from kind, explanatory to saying these like demise of the fetus and other medical terms. Demise of the fetus. I lost it. I could not believe what was happening. I was staring into my husband's eyes, holding his hand and numbing the pain that would come with the delivery of my dead child. I could not hold in the tears any longer. It started with quiet streams of tears that turned into full body sobs. I kept whispering, "I'm so sorry" because I knew I needed to be still as he inserted needles and drugs into my spine. And as I lie there weeping, I began to hear the cries of our nurses Ashley and Leslie. It was all too much. So much in fact, that James suddenly turned white and ran to the bathroom. He hit his limit also. Once the epidural was in place, a nurse held my hand and wiped my tears, while another fetched James juice and found him lying on the cold bathroom floor. After the epidural was started and I began to feel numb, they gave the medicine to start labor. James slept on the pull-out couch, Dad made a pallet on the floor and we were all able to sleep for a couple of hours. Around 7, Ashley came in to say goodbye and introduced me to Ali, my day nurse. She was truly an angel sent for us that day. She was wonderful. I don't remember many details from the morning. I was told I could eat, so James brought me a cinnamon roll and chicken minis from Chickfila downstairs. Dad and James both ate breakfast too. Not much was happening, we were just chatting, resting and trying to pass the time. We watched the snow from my window. I could see big, beautiful, white flakes floating through the air. Dad and I talked about how I would never look at snow the same. That it would be okay if I hated snow for the rest of my life. The more I watched it, I began to think of my baby like the snow flakes. White, pure, lovely, perfect. I won't hate snow. I'll see snow and feel connected to my sweet baby that is not in my arms. My doctor came in to check on me, which was reassuring and calming. At one point, I was given more medicine to help with the induction and they had to adjust my epidural. Ali brought me juice, water and Ibuprophen when I needed it. The day was long. I was sad.  It was surreal. I was so scared. I could feel a few contractions, but I wasn't in too much pain. I was glad I could feel a little, because it meant something was happening. We were all ancy and tired of waiting. James and I discussed our desires once the baby was born. Without even a second thought I knew I wanted to see and hold our baby. He just as certainly knew that he could not look at the baby. We were both very calm in our responses and it felt that we were both 100% supportive of the others desires. At some point, we heard the first cries of the brand new baby next door. Too much. James and I both lost it again. Maybe Dad did too. I don't know. As I was sobbing, I was just thinking about the unbelievably contradicting emotions I was feeling. Please baby, get out already. Oh dear God, please don't let me have this baby. I don't want this to be real. Please be over already, don't be over. A big fear of mine was that I wouldn't know when it was time to deliver. I was so numb and the baby would be so small, how would I know? I asked every nurse, resident and my doctor that came in "will I know? how will I know?" They all assured me that I would know. I would feel it. Don't worry. When my doctor came into the room somewhere around 4 to check on me, we chatted. All was calm. She pulled the blankets back to take a look and suddenly jumped into action. "It's done. Your baby is here." She called the nurse quickly, got her tools and blankets, as things were not prepared yet. She explained that the baby, the placenta, everything was out and the bleeding was minor. They announced that we had a boy. Another son! Such a moment of pure joy and pure sorrow all at once. I can't explain what that feels like. We had decided earlier in the day that if it was a boy, his name would be Gabriel. James suggested it, as we hadn't come up with names yet. It was perfect. The nurse began to wrap Gabriel up for me to see him and I panicked. Everything had happened so quickly. Although my doctor and nurse did not seem frantic, it was a definitely unexpected and there was a sense of urgency. I told Ali, I didn't think I could see him. Not yet. She carefully placed him in the bassinet on the other side of the room and told me I could change my mind at any time. Once I was cleaned up, my doctor left, James was out in the hallway giving Dad a report, the room was quiet and it was just Ali and I, I couldn't wait another second. I needed my son. RIGHT NOW! Ali walked to the bassinet and softly said, "Sweet Gabriel, lets go see your Mommy." It was beautiful and heart wrenching. He was so perfect and so beautiful. I couldn't stop looking at him through my tears. Ali  and I looked at each part of his perfectly formed, but tiny body. We examined his cute nose and his long fingers and his ears and his belly. I felt like I got a secret look at the miracle that God creates inside a woman's body. At so young and so tiny, he was a perfect little person. As I was holding him, James tore through the door. I startled and got tense. I was afraid he had accidentally just seen Gabriel and I wanted to be fair to his needs and desires, but it wasn't an accident. Through sobs, he quickly looked at his son and said "I just had to see him. I couldn't not see him." We held each other and cried for all that we had lost.  Later Ali took Gabriel to have photos taken. He was gone maybe a half hour or so. We requested that he come back so we could pray over him and say goodbye. She brought him back in a beautiful hand made blanket. James, Dad and I prayed over Gabriel and told him goodbye. It breaks my heart, because it went too quickly. I was ready to say goodbye, but I wasn't. No matter how long I had held him, it would never be enough. My doctor knew I wanted to go home. Let's be honest, no woman wants to check into the hospital pregnant and then spend the night in the Anti-partum unit. She said that since delivery had gone so well and my bleeding was under control, that I could go home once I got all feeling back in my legs and used the restroom. You have never seen 3 people so desperate for one person to walk to the bathroom. We waited around for a few hours as I finished some IV meds, slowly began to move my legs and was finally able to stand. I was hungry. We were tired. We were so, so sad. As kind as everyone had been, we couldn't wait to never see their faces again. We wanted to go home where we felt safe. We have been home a few days now and with each day I remember a little more and feel a little more steady. Things will never be normal again. We will find our new normal. I am overwhelmed with sorrow, but so full of gratitude. I wish so badly that Gabriel was still growing healthy and strong in my belly, but I am so thankful I got to be his Mommy. I wouldn't trade that for anything. I loved him and I will love him forever. He changed me for the better. I'm so thankful for the love and support our family and friends have shown. I'm thankful that James and I are in this together. I look at Noah with a new sense of wonder and joy. I long for the day that I will be reunited with my precious son in Heaven. Until then I will relish every flake of snow I see, because I'll know Gabriel is saying "Hi Mommy."

Wednesday, October 3, 2012

Time: Hurry Up, Slow Down

This time last year the days were long and the nights longer. I couldn't wait to meet my son, it was still scorching hot, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't sit comfortably, I was sore all the time.  I really didn't think the day would ever come. I did everything I could to pass the time. I didn't really enjoy my last days with just James or my days of quiet meals or lingering in bed as long as I wanted. Please time, hurry up!!

This October, most days are long and some nights involve little sleep. I'm tired, but I find myself wishing night wouldn't come. Not yet. The end of each day puts us closer to my baby boy turning one year old. Please time, slow down!!

When I lay my tired body down each  night my mind immediately begins to replay my the best day of my life. My thoughts start with me standing up at 1:20 am and immediately knowing, this is it!! "James wake up, my water just broke. Noah is coming today!"

Then I remember the man standing in front of the hospital who sent us through door with a fist pump and "hey!! Congratulations!" I go through each moment of labor and delivery in my mind. I tell people, I would rather not be pregnant again, but I would like to give birth once a week. I loved it so much. 

The days following were so sweet. I couldn't imagine life without Noah. Then things got harder and then easier and then harder again. But each day of this year has been so fun. I love Noah's beautiful eyelashes and his huge teeth. I love the way his arms flap, his fat feet twirl and he says "dadadadada" at the sound of the garage door each evening. I love that he makes strangers smile. I love that he reaches for me and his eyes search for me and then show relief once he has found me, while in someone else's arms. His skin is soft, his eyes beautiful, his laugh adorable.

I find myself rocking him a little longer, kissing him more often and my eyes misting up each time he nurses. This year has been the best. I know it is such a blessing to have a healthy, growing child and I know that just because the calendar marks one year doesn't suddenly mean everything will change. He will always be my precious son. I am so full of joy and gratitude, mixed with a touch of sadness and maybe a bit of anxiety. Mostly, my heart is swollen with love for one adorable little dude.

Saturday, October 23, 2010

Loved Well

I have been journaling almost everyday for two weeks now. Mostly what I have written is my experiences, thoughts and feelings about the miscarriage. For two months, I replayed things in my head over and over and over. I have replayed our night at the hospital, I have felt the physical pain, remembered each moment of heartache, had constant thoughts of fear and anger and sadness. As I have written all these things, I notice a change in my recurrent thoughts and in my writings. I am starting to replay gestures of kindness, moments of joy and laughter and conversations with others. My hurt is beginning to reveal goodness and love. I have been loved well.

Today this is the memory that is filling my head and bringing happy tears to my eyes. I had two very special visitors that Wednesday, it was my first full day to be alone. Two people who have been a constant in my life. Two people who are much older and wiser than myself. Two people who were so very worried for me. When they walked in the door, they had gifts. First, I hugged him. He held me tight and close. I said, "you smell so good, like coffee." He replied, "That's because I spilled it all down my shirt on the way here." And we all three laughed. Then he walked away and let the two of us have our time. She wrapped me in her arms and she began to silently weep. In all my years, I never knew her to cry. She cried because decades before she had experienced my pain. Looking in my eyes, she knew exactly what I was feeling. In a precious and painful moment, we were the same.

They were only there for a few hours, but for a few hours I was not alone. I was understood. Shortly after they left, I went back into my hole. I was not able to focus on the acceptance and understanding I had just experienced. It has taken some time, but I am so thankful that today I am soaking up that precious time with two precious people who I adore. I'm thankful that I am now able to see goodness again. I have been loved so well.

My grandparents came to our house Sunday night on their way to Athens, Greece. Must be nice, huh? Anyways, Granddad walked in and presented me with these flowers he had picked for me. It was a bouquet of beautiful roses and a few zinnias in the middle. He said that he had just picked the roses, but Manuel thought he needed to add some color. So Manuel went and picked the zinnias. I can't even begin to tell you how much I wish I had been a fly on the wall as this was happening. Even more, I can't tell you how much such a simple deed has brightened my spirit.

Thanks Granddad and Manuel.

I bought this cute little bottle rack last weekend in Tyler with the thought of how festive it would look with Christmas candy in the jars. It didn't occur to me how cute Halloween candy would look. Something so simple, but I smile every time I look at it.

I have been feeling super crafty this week, so I made these letters. I changed out the ribbon and now they are hanging behind my dining room table. You have to come to my house to see the complete project. So come on over!

Happy Saturday!



Thursday, October 21, 2010

Rachel Is Back

Warning: Brutally Honest Post Ahead

----------------------------------------------------------

I am back. Finally. Thank the Lord. For the past two months, I have been depressed, bitter, tired and scared.
Since our miscarriage, I have not been able to get my feet under me. I was so devastated by the loss of our baby, but seemed to get hit again and again with something worse than the day before.
I have started seeing a therapist and began an antidepressant and finally feel better. It has been an incredible experience to be able to say exactly what is on my mind without any repercussions. She listens, she gives good advice, she lets me say exactly what is on my mind, she lets me cuss and yell when I need to, I don't have to worry about hurting her feelings, she doesn't tell me "it's time to move on", she let's me question God without judging me. With her guidance, I am working through all this heartache.
With her suggestion, I have taken two weeks off from work. She was very specific on what I should spend my two weeks on. My mission was to address my anger and hurt and deal with it. I was to take care of myself, who cares about anything else. I have spent a lot of time outside and writing. I have journaled my experience from the beginning. Things that I didn't remember, have poured out of my pen. I have watched movies and drank a lot of coffee, I have slept and slept and shopped and baked and gotten crafty. It has been hard and wonderful all at the same time.
I knew that I was in big trouble and I knew that I needed to deal with these emotions, but I just didn't know how. I somehow think that the world will stop spinning if I don't go to work. I thought that work was more important than taking care of myself. My mom was smart enough to suggest that I take time off work, but I just worried what my co-workers would think. There was something about a professional, a complete stranger listening to my story and say, "Rachel, you are important. You must take care of yourself. You are depressed. Your husband needs you. You have been through a horrible experience. You are not okay right now. Please take care of yourself."
Hearing her say those things, gave me the confidence to take the time off. Thankfully my boss was extremely understanding and helpful. The first few days were harder because for the first time, I was left alone and quiet. I made the decision to focus on my thoughts and emotions, even though it was painful.
As I see the end of my break getting closer and closer (I'm really trying not to think about it yet) I feel so much better. I feel hopeful, I don't feel bitter, I feel like I have things to be thankful for and things to look forward to. I know that I will still have hard days, but at least I don't feel controlled by my heartache.

Wednesday, October 20, 2010

He is Ready

Maverick is ready for Halloween! As Riley says, "Mavi has pumpkins on his belt." And we had to try on his Halloween costume to make sure it still fit and try to convince him to have a better attitude about being a hot dog this year. He still hates it, but he sure is cute!
Now all we need is trick or treaters!