MIA

My last day of work was February 11th. The following days that week were filled with a lot of snuggles with my daughter. It was the last few days that she was going to be the only child in this house, the last few days of mommy and daddy's undivided attention.  Friday morning came around and I had to call the hospital at 6:30am to find out what time to be there for the induction. They told me all the beds were full, and it would be later that day. I called back around 9:30am and they were telling me it may not happen. Anthony and I were a little upset. My dr called just a bit later and asked us what we were feeling. I love her. She's amazing. I told her it's ok, I know it was elective, and I understand that if there were no beds, we could wait. She said she had to go into the office, but she would do all she could to find out when we could get into the hospital. About a half hour later, at 11am, the nurse from the hospital called and said come in as soon as we could. We jumped up and explained to Claire we were going to the hospital to get Dominic out of mommy's belly and bring him home. She was a little upset at first, and that in turn, made me upset. We got to the hospital and got settled in. I had to get 4 hours of antibiotics before I could deliver. They didn't want to start the induction until they were sure I wouldn't deliver before that 4 hr mark. They let me eat around 2pm and around 2:30 we started the induction. My contractions got intense after a few hours and they came to do the epidural. I was already in the transition stage and shaking uncontrollably. I was getting sick. Finally, I had some relief and laid down to rest. The epidural only took to one side. I knew right then that was going to be bad, the side it took was not the side I had pain in all pregnancy. I didn't feel the contractions though, so I was ok with it. All of a sudden, around 11:00pm I felt my contractions coming on pretty hard. They had anesthesia come in and give me narcotics and wait to see how close I was to deliver. The dr said I was only 6cm. They gave me 2 more bolus' of the epidural. I felt like I needed to push. The dr's came in and told me it would be hours. I was only 6cm. I knew that wasn't true. I was practically begging the dr's not to leave because I knew I was going to push any minute. It was less than 5 min later and my contractions were so intense. The epidural wore off and no amount they would push through my IV was helping. I could feel everything. I was promising the dr's I needed to push and they checked and I was at 8cm. They said it would still be awhile. I didn't let them leave the room. Not even a minute later I was looking at Anthony like I needed him to either hold the baby in or convince the dr's I needed to push. The dr's came and checked and were surprised I was at 10cm. It had been less than 5 min to move from 6 - 10cm. I started to push and 20 minutes later, my little miracle was born. The epidural had worn off so it was a pretty painful delivery, but so worth it. I sobbed. I couldn't stop. It was like I had no control. I would try to take a deep breath to calm down, and it just came out louder and longer. I sobbed because my son was here safe. I sobbed because he would never know his 2 older brothers and 1 older sister. I sobbed because my oldest daughter was a big sister, and she would now know what that feels like on this earth. I sobbed because he was beautiful. I sobbed. There's so much more to what happened next, and the next few days, but since I've been writing this for a week now, this is where I'll stop. I will let you get a glimpse of my little man, but I promise there will be more pictures to come. Like everything else, I've been a little busy snuggling my little and big babies and still haven't uploaded pics to my computer.

My little man. 

Mommy snuggling her babies.

Proud big sister.

The Comparison Trap

 

 

Week of February 4, 2013 ~ Mirror, Mirror ~ The Comparison Trap

Mothers often fall into the trap of comparing ourselves to one another. This is a trap many women fall into. We compare our families, mothering styles, fashion sense, careers or lack thereof, bodies, etc. Even mothers with babies in heaven compare the way we grieve our children. I know…sad…but we do it, if we’re honest enough to admit it. So, how can we find freedom from this? Sharing is a start…telling the truth…admitting the struggle. I think, then, we will see that we all love our children, regardless of how we choose to remember and honor their lives…whether publicly or quietly…with big parties or simple moments of remembrance. Be real on this week’s post, and let’s free ourselves from the trap of comparing!

 

 

I have thought long and hard about this, unsure of what I would post. I honestly can't really remember a time that I compared myself to anyone else in the grieving process. I am comfortable with the way I grieve, and I'm comfortable in knowing that everyone grieves different, some "more" than others. I have taken some ideas from other mom's who have lost children, and I have left some things behind. I know what I need to make my heart and mind function with this sort of loss, and I do it. I don't care how it's looked at, I don't care who agrees or disagrees, I don't care about murmuring behind my back (cause I know there has been). I do what my family and I need to do to function on this earth with 1/2 of our family in heaven. If that's comparing, then I'm ok with it, but if it's meaning is more like "I wish I did this more like this person, or that person." I don't. I do regret not having a memorial service, but again, not because other's have, but because it would have been one more way for me to celebrate my children's short lives, and share them with more people.

 

I don't want to "reach" just to create a post, so I guess that's all I have to say for now. If something comes to me, I will be sure to return and talk about it. 

This week on WWY

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

January 28, 2013 ~ Overcoming Guilt and Embracing Joy

One area so many mothers struggle with is guilt, especially those who experience the loss of a baby/child. We want to address this struggle in this post. It will help mothers quietly battling guilt for living life and experiencing joy to know they are not alone. Other moms silently battle this as well. Whether it is the startling first time you really laugh after losing your child, or whether you have experienced the healing balm of joy for years, share your thoughts on this week’s post.

 

 

 

It took me a long time to feel "right" about smiling. It took even longer for me to feel joy again. I felt an overwhelming amount of guilt. My body didn't work right. I failed my daughter, my husband, and my children. I thought maybe God wasn't happy the way I was raising my daughter. Maybe He didn't see it fit for me to have anymore children. I was scared that every child I would try to have after would be taken from me as well, kinda like a "didn't you learn the first time?!" kinda lesson. Maybe I wasn't fit to raise triplets, maybe I wasn't patient enough? loving enough? gentle enough? guilt.

 

It's not completely gone. I don't think it ever will be. It's that nagging voice in the back of my head that tries to continually steal my joy. It's a full time job to fill my head this things that are true, right, holy, pure, etc (Philippians 4:8). Satan is the Father of Lies. He's so good at it, and just like the serpent in the Garden of Eden tempting Adam and Eve in Genesis, and that same serpent that tried to tempt Jesus in Matthew 4:1-11, he is still walking this earth, tempting any and everyone he can. Guilt. It sure doesn't come from our Creator, the one who loves us, and has a plan for us, and comforts and strengthens us, and shows us mercy and grace every day (2Corinthians 1:3-4).  As long as I take breaths on this earth, guilt will try to creep in, will try to steal my joy, my truths that the God of the heavens and earth has given to me. Every morning I wake up ready for battle. Some days I lose, and it's ok. Jesus is right there to pick me up, brush me off, whisper His truth and love into my ear, and help me to carry on.

 

I laugh more, I have more joy, I enjoy life more. Because if I didn't, my children's lives, as short as they may have been, would be for nothing. Satan would win. I can't and won't allow that. It's an every day choice, and every day battle, and an every day victory, if I choose to accept it. It's not easy, but it's worth it. The struggle will never be gone. You live on this earth without pieces of you. You will never feel "complete". But that doesn't mean you have to walk in guilt, in sadness, in a cloud of despair. Those are our choices. They may not seem like it at first, and sometimes, you just have to choose it even when it doesn't seem natural or right. It will become natural though. It will be something that gets easier to choose. Easier to understand. Easier to walk in.

 

Those are just my thoughts and opinions. Take them for what they are worth. 

Update/Picture dump

 

I saw the dr the day after the phone call that sent me into a bit of a panic attack. I know in my head i was overreacting, but in my heart, my baby was already born, in the NICU, worse case scenario en suite. Call me crazy. I've been called worse. My mind will never not go there, ever again. Get used to it. Death changes you. Death of your child changes you. Death of 3 of your children, right before your eyes, changes you. It makes you doubt your body, your life, your purpose, your dreams, your calling, your family, your body, your body, your body.....

 

She put my mind to ease a bit more though, and it helps that we have scheduled an induction. I know I could always go before, but if he is true to how he's been, he's not coming anytime soon. I'm going to try really, really, really hard to enjoy these last 3 weeks. I want to absorb every moment I can with my daughter now before her world changes again as well. Sharing your love between earth and the heavenlies, while not easy, is easier I'm sure, than sharing your time between 2 of the most incredible miracles on this earth. (see, that was positive!? i said it affirming he IS coming home alive with us alive. it's little steps people.)

 

I go to another check-up Wednesday, and hope to find out if there's been any "action" in the getting ready to labor part. I'm definitely scared OUT.OF.MY.MIND he's going to be the predicted 9lbs. I could barely push out my 7lb'er!

 

Ok, I'll leave you with some of my pics as of late:

 

 

 

 

Dominic's chubby face. see that dimply by his EYE!!!! oh my. he's a bigga boy!

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my belly with just 3 weeks left!

my love and her obsession. "bool bus and all the guys"

the two people on this earth that keep me going every day!

Worry

The bible tells us not to do it. There is no need for it. God will take care of everything. Mercy and grace covers each day.

Let's be real though. I'm not perfect. I'm human. And while I cast most of my cares on Him, the one who knit my children together in my womb, and ordained every day of all of our lives, there are some cares I just can't get rid of. Some worries I just can't shake.

We are just over 3 weeks from D-Day. Dominic's Day, Delivery Day, whatever you prefer. I just got a call this afternoon that I tested positive for Group B Strep. With my first, I wouldn't have worried, even with the triplets, I most likely wouldn't have batted an eye. This time, I started freaking out. I have had one scare after another with Dominic. Serious scares, not just little "oh my gosh can't believe you are freaking out over this" scares. Like passing clots the size of my fist, contractions for hours in the middle of the night WHILE LAYING DOWN. Passing something early on that was identical to what a baby looks like. Extremely low heart rate. You name it. All on the heals of having the worst thing ever to happen to a mother happen. So excuse me while I don't exactly roll over and take the carefree attitude I should be.

I went online. BAD IDEA. I looked up Strep B. I looked up complications it can cause a baby. While there are a few very serious complications that can show up within the first 12 to 24 hrs, and some later in the first 3 months of life, the one that stuck out most was "Stillborn". We were already anxious about delivery because now my daughter can't come to the hospital to meet her baby brother. Not at all. Ridiculous if you ask me. She didn't get to meet her other brothers or sister. This was of utmost importance to us this time around. Now she can't. Ok, take it with a grain of salt, get out of the hospital ASAP after giving birth (which is 24 hrs later). Now that looks like it's not happening either because they keep the babies for 48hrs typically to monitor for symptoms. OBVIOUSLY I want Dominic to be healthy, and would move mountains to make sure he was, even if it meant staying at the hospital for days, just let me see my daughter too! Let me have her meet her brother this time. Before, God forbid, it's too late. Again.

I could be way overreacting. But anyone who knows me knows that the things that "typically" don't happen to the average person, happen to this girl. "It's rare" is never the case with me. It's more like  if they say it's something that's "rare", I should just count on it happening to me. So I'm worried. Really worried actually. I need to just hide for a bit and pray. I need for God to just pass time incredibly quickly so I can have my boy, safe, healthy, and home. I need prayers so I don't go into full panic mode, as I'm really not that far off right now. Where I once prayed for quick delivery, I would like it to go slow so I have enough time for antibiotics. Where I once prayed to go on my own, I want to be in a controlled environment so that he is monitored every.single.step.of.the.way!

And that's my crazy rant for the day.

Steps Back into Life

 

 

Welcome to Week 3 of Walking With You:  Steps Back into LifeShare about your first steps back into life. What helped you survive in the world outside as you took those first tender steps? Are there still tender areas for you today, living in a world that doesn’t embrace or understand the loss of a baby/child? How do you cope with those struggles? What advice would you offer those new to this walk to encourage and bring hope? How has this changed for you from the beginning? If you are in early grief, what do you fear/struggle with as you try to navigate a new normal….life without your baby?

 

 

 

I remember that my first steps were very hesitant. Very slow. Fumbling every step of the way. I could barely remember how to breath, let alone interact with people.

 

The first knock on our door when we got home took my breath away. Whose coming into my home? Where there are flowers galore and no new babies to show for them? I would talk about how our home looked like a funeral home, and then cry because we decided against a funeral.

 

We got home on a Monday. That following weekend we decided to go to church. BAD idea. I wept through the whole thing. Not a silent cry either. The service was all worship music and readings of scripture. I couldn't stand up, I couldn't feel my legs. People would come up behind me and hug me, or sit beside me and hug me. I just clung to my husband.

 

I remember we needed to run into the grocery store, I was so fearful I would run into someone I knew, and even more fearful that they would know and try to comfort me or say something to me and make me breakdown in the middle of the grocery store. I held my breath the entire time. I prayed a lot under my breath, it was more like demands on God. "You can't let me run into anyone I know", "You can't let anyone make me cry, you took my babies, it's the least you can do". Now, I know that's not what happened and that it was fully ok to talk to God that way, He knew my heart. His was broken too.

 

My husband, daughter and I took a 6 week break from life. We didn't do much with anyone on the outside if we could help it. We stayed close, took day trips, slept together, played together, snuggled a lot, cried more tears than I ever thought was possible. Dr's visits were hard. My daughter had her 15 month appointment during this 6 week "break" from life. We scheduled it a long time before. We weren't seeing our dr either because she was booked. The dr came into our room and started off with "i hear a congratulations is in order!" I cried. I had to explain to her that we lost the triplets. We delivered a few weeks ago and they didn't make it. Silence, apologies. Everything I tried to avoid.

 

 I got a necklace with their birthstone on it that carries some of each of their ashes. It doesn't look all that odd to me, but apparently to others it does. I would get questions about my "unique" necklace and would have to tell them what it is. Most had nothing to say, quickly changing the subject. Some apologized and got the heck out of dodge. A few even asked me if it was a whistle. Still stings every time I have to explain my necklace.

 

 

I am visibly pregnant right now, with less than 4 weeks to go. "Is this your first?" "How many children do you have?" "Is it a boy or a girl?" and when answered "a boy", and they see my daughter with me, "oh how wonderful, one of each!" I walk away fighting tears every time. Never fails. A few times I set them straight, but it gets old, and hard.  For sure, we live in a world that is blind to hurt, and blind to the fact that babies die. It just doesn't happen, right? I never assume anymore. I see a person with 1 child and I wonder if they too have the hurt of losing a child. Even people who know I lost triplets, who are well aware that they are a part of our family, they make comments about how Claire is going to be a big sister for the first time. I want to scream in anger. I actually still get angry when people say those things. She's been a big sister. Just because she doesn't see them everyday. alive, playing, breathing, etc, doesn't mean they don't exist. She talks about them all the time. She asks to kiss them, to see them, she knows they are in heaven and reaches to the sky asking to hold them. She's the best big sister in the world in my opinion. One of the strongest too, knowing how to love all the way to heaven.

 

 

We read about heaven a lot, we talk about heaven and how we will someday get to go and see them again. How we will all be together someday. We talk about her brothers and sister all the time. This helps to know they are near. This helps me to know they are still a part of my family. No matter what this world says or believes. No matter how many judging glances and comments I get for raising my children the way I do and will. Talking about them as a part of our family, including them when we describe being a family, those things help. They help to make me feel like they aren't so "far" away.

 

I am not the same person I was "pre loss". My goals, my vision, my dreams for my life are all different. Someone put it in an article I read daily, about how the days of blissful "mommyhood" are gone. Worrying about ear infections and colds and if your children are hitting the right milestones at the right times. That all seems silly now. Picturing  my daughters wedding day, my son's birth....it's like waiting around for the next bad thing to happen, for your next child to be taken away. Don't get me wrong, I have hope in the Lord, and without it, I wouldn't get through each day, I can promise you that. But I also don't take each day for granted. I feel like I'm always getting ready for a phone call filled with devastation, a trip to the emergency room or the dr that ends with one less person in this earthly family.

 

To encourage and bring hope to others, the only thing I have to offer is kinda redundant. Cling to Jesus. He will walk you through everything. There is no right or wrong way to grieve, to parent a dead child, to mother children in the heavenlies. Surround yourself with songs ushering in His presence. Surround yourself with scriptures describing His love for you and His plans for you, and His ways of bringing hope and peace to you. Even if you don't agree. Even if it makes you angry the first 70 times you read through them. He will infiltrate your spirit, your soul, your heart. His love for His children is so intense, there's no way to deny it if you surround yourself in the truth.

 

Phew, that was long. Sorry. Hope you could make it through it. 

Clinging in the Pit

January 14, 2013 ~ Clinging in the Pit

If you are not new to loss, talk a bit about early grief. What was it like, clinging for hope in the pits of despair? What did you cling to for hope? How did you survive the early days? What helped? What do you wish you could share with someone new to this walk, clinging in the pit? If you’re in the pit, currently, share your struggles. What can others do to encourage you?

Joining in a little "early" this week, as my week starts to get crazy tomorrow, I wanted to write and link up to WWY through Sufficient Grace Ministries. (Well that's as far as I got. It's now "tomorrow", and I am going to try to get out everything that's on my mind.)

It's been over a year and a half, and while that really is still new, it also feels like such a long time ago that I held my children in my arms. Early grief was awful. I never want to feel that way again. Ever. I couldn't focus on simple tasks. I barely could get out of bed. I went through the motions. I had a 15 month at home to "live" for. She still needed to be cared for and have her daily needs met. We took a lot of family trips. We didn't leave each other's sides for weeks. I remember I would wake up crying, I would go to bed crying, I would be getting dressed and just stop in the middle, go to wherever my husband was and sit on his lap and sob. I said over and over how I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't live without my children here. He would remind me that I needed to live, I still had a husband and a daughter to live this life for. I started to read any and everything about heaven and loss of infants, 3rd trimester losses, etc. I started to feel God's presence more. Not that it wasn't there before, I just didn't want to feel it. I was too numb, with anger, with sadness, with darkness, with lies of why I didn't get to "keep" my children. In the very beginning the only thing I thought was that God didn't like what I was doing with my daughter, so I wasn't going to be allowed to have anymore children. Lies. From the pits of hell. Satan almost had me fooled, but God battled for my heart. Hard. When I realized it, the days got a little easier. I listened to music that ushered the presence of heaven in. I sat and prayed and just soaked in the music for as long as I could. It brought me more hope. It reminded me of who God was, and allowed me to feel his presence when I thought I never could again. I didn't wish I had died too anymore. Don't get me wrong, I will always long for heaven. That is where my heart belongs, and I've never realized it more since my children went there ahead of me. I can't wait to get there, and pray for heaven to come to this earth almost daily.....BUT I live. I don't wish I was dead. I know I have a purpose. I know God has a plan for my life, my family's lives, our "story".

Every one's experience is different, but one thing remains the same. Your child(ren) are no longer with you, and no matter what, that will always leave a place of emptiness in your heart. There is nothing that will fix that hole, there is nothing that will fill that hole, there is nothing that will make that hole go away. Life does and CAN go on though, and your experience may help someone else lost along the way. Clinging to hope, clinging to Jesus, clinging to what God has for you in the future, that is all you can do. His ways are higher than our ways. His thoughts are higher than our thoughts. ALL.THE.TIME!