We're Not Alone

 When Ambree was a few months old while shopping at Sam's Club a middle aged couple approached me, admiring Ambree.  I am always uneasy as strangers approach and engage in conversation centered around Ambree.  It makes me anxious as I know that infamous question "Is she your only?" will follow.  As you may already know, I vowed to always acknowledge Larissa and recognize her as a part of our family.  So, with some hesitation I told these strangers that Ambree is our second as we lost our firstborn at birth.  I only hesitate as death is an uncomfortable topic and infant death is truly taboo.

 However, this couple began to spill their hearts out to me as well noting that they have several grandchildren but that their son and daughter in-law were expecting a very special bundle.  They too, lost their firstborn as he was born prematurely and fought for his little life for in excess of thirty days.  The tears streamed down these strangers faces as they shared their story in the otherwise empty aisle of Sam's Club.  I felt their pain...truly felt their pain and unlike those whom have not walked in our shoes I didn't gape at these strangers with horror thinking "I can't even imagine." I know all too well the pain this couple has endured. 

It's an incomprehensible pain to lose a child.  Those whom have never endured such pain feel maybe in my situation its a little less painful as we never brought Larissa home.  However, she's our baby.  A lifetime of dreams and milestones for our little girl were taken away as we sadly had to say goodbye.  And I know I'm not alone.  All too often on the daily news you hear of a baby or child taken much too soon from this life in a fire and/or accident.  I watch those stories as the journalist interviews family members and all I think is "I feel your pain."  Sometimes people complain about aging and/or old age and my friend recently shared a quote with me, which basically stated to not complain about aging as it is a privilege denied to many.  That's so very true.  Larissa never even took a breath outside of the womb.  She never got to enjoy life.  Nothing...she got nothing.  And sadly, I am not alone as many of you reading this post know firsthand the pain of losing a child and we are not alone...

Hard to believe, its a year...

Our precious little daughter turns one year old already on February 21st.  We celebrated this momentous day with a special birthday party at our house.  Our home was transformed into a cupcake themed party filled with nearly forty guests including family and friends.  I began planning the party shortly after Christmas ended.  I enjoy party planning and entertaining to begin with, but this party was very special.  Most parents view their child's first birthday as a big deal but my husband and I can truly appreciate just what a big deal a birthday is.  It's a miracle any of us are even here and Ambree is truly our special little miracle. 

Our house was decked out in shades of pink, turquoise and red with touches of cupcake decorations everywhere.  Balloons, streamers, multiple types of cupcakes, cupcake table confetti, and of course a three dimensional cupcake cake made with love by my mom.  It was certainly a success and the decor and home turned out just as I had pictured.  Most importantly, Ambree truly enjoyed it.  She frequently looked up at each of the floating balloons and banners.  She smiled mischievously while eating her own little 3D cupcake smash cake.  She didn't make a mess though, as she's always been a dainty eater and enjoyed it with minimal cleanup...a mother's dream, especially with an indoor party. She helped unwrap her gifts tearing at the wrappings and tissue paper, squealing with glee at each unveiled treasure.  She enjoyed herself so much that she continued the celebration through the night refusing to nap and finally crashing at 5:30pm after her final bottle and sleeping through the night.  Let it be noted her party began at noon and she was awake at 5am that day with only a 45 minute nap prior to the celebration. 

So, the party was certainly a success.  However, like any other day (special or not) in our lives there is always a sense of sadness I feel as Ambree's older sister Larissa is not here to celebrate with us.  I long to see that little girl celebrate her milestones but I recognize I can only envision each of Larissa's milestones through the growth of her little sister.  I wondered what Larissa would have been like at her first and second birthdays.  I now have a little insight as to how a one year old acts on their birthday and next year Ambree will shed some light on how Larissa maybe would have been on her second birthday.  Again, we will never know for sure, but I see Larissa in Ambree.  Mostly when she's asleep...sometimes the similarities are so striking as my one year old rests, that I find myself shedding tears at the memories of Larissa.  This is now my way of life and as some will say "It is what it is." Which is true and all I can do is continue to honor my firstborn and savor every second with my second born.  Savor is what I do....every single second.... 

New Year, New Beginnings...

With the start of a new year, many people commit to fresh beginnings.  As usual, the gym is packed with many whom have pledged healthier beginnings and vow to lose 'x' amount of pounds.  It irritates me how crowded my gym becomes January 2nd, as I know that only a small fraction of those newbies will still be committed to their new workout regime in three to four weeks.  My gym will resume to the norm at the start of February.  I will grin and bear it for the next few weeks.

I, on the other hand, infrequently make a New Year's resolution.  It's not that I don't believe in them.  I just  feel that year after year we fail to meet the resolutions and find ourselves in subsequent years pledging the same as the year prior. 

However, I digress and will get to the real point of me taking a moment to post on this blog.  On January 1st, I was watching Good Morning America and most of the hosts of the show pledged to slow down and devote more time to their children as their New Years' resolutions, enlightened by the recent tragedy at Sandy Hook.  I was watching this morning show as my ten month old daughter lay asleep across my lap.  It struck a cord with me as I wondered to myself had I not lost Larissa, would I too be pledging the same as a resolution?  I already spend every moment possible with Ambree and even when she's fussy, crying or fighting a nap...I savor those moments.  Was it the tragic loss of Larissa that made me appreciate even the bad moments that accompanies parenthood?  Would I appreciate Ambree as much as I do had I not been forced to say goodbye to my firstborn before I said hello?  I'm assuming that the loss of Larissa most certainly did influence my patience and overwhelming love for Ambree. 

I'm not saying that parents whom have never endured a loss do not appreciate the miracle which is every child.  I recognize that being a parent is stressful and time consuming.  However, it is also the greatest gift given to any of us.  Therefore, I caution any parent who cannot imagine the incomprehensible death of their child and hope that they recognize how truly blessed they are and savor each and every second with their child.  I mean every second...the good and the bad.  In addition to forty fabulous weeks, Larissa gave me the realization that every second here on Earth is precious and limited, so enjoy it.  We all assume the tragedy of losing a child will happen to next parent not us, but we are no less special than the parent standing beside us.  None of us knows the time we have with our children and it goes against the natural progression of life to bury any of your children.  Sadly, though, I am not alone.  Their are many other mothers and fathers who walk in my shoes, with a large hole in their hearts longing for the child no longer here.  So, on a final note, don't wait for another tragedy to cherish your children.  Cherish them always. 

Two Years Ago...

Two years ago today we welcomed our firstborn daughter, Larissa, into this world. Two years ago today my life changed forever. I became a mom, but not a parent. Two years ago today, I welcomed my beautiful daughter into this world and sadly said goodbye to her forever.

Larissa isn't here to parent but I'll never stop being her mom. This year, Larissa's birthday is different from last. I'm a mom and a parent to one child who is forever in our hearts and to our daughter, Ambree, whose cooing sounds brought me out of my restless sleep and brought a smile to my face on a day filled with sadness.

We will spend the day again this year printing our packets of information and mailing them to our two main local hospitals. Yes, Larissa may not be here but I'll never stop being her mom and her short life will forever impact the lives of grieving families trying to make sense of their tragic loss. I know our packets of information HAVE made a difference. I've received many emails with kind words of gratitude. And my OB recently told me of a women two years past her full-term still birth whom he gave our packet to with hopes of helping her with her grief. She is so affected by her loss she is paralyzed with sadness and shock and cannot move forward. I hope our story of Larissa and where we are today gives her hope and helps bring her to a better place. Sadly, babies and children do die. Our world is not perfect and I'm one of many grieving mothers. It's a taboo subject as people don't know what to say, but Larissa was very real and I want people to know she's a part of our family.

Two years has brought with it many changes and emotions. We now have Ambree whom I savor every second with and never take any time with her for granted.  However, I am a mom to two girls and anyone who asks knows that. Yes, anyone, including acquaintances and passer-bys. I'll never deny Larissa's existence. She gave me forty fabulous weeks and made me a mom. She changed my life forever. November has a whole new meaning and feeling to me. It will forever be the month we welcomed and said goodbye to our firstborn all in one day. However, I'm in a better place this year than last and I hope with each subsequent year I come to greater terms with my loss. Anyone who has walked in my shoes knows the mom of the stillborn baby is affected the most. My husband lost a daughter, my parents and his a grandchild and so forth. However, I carried her for 9 months. I labored and delivered. I dealt with my postpartum body, hormones crashing and trying to conceive another child. I continue to tense up at the infamous question 'Is she your only?' as strangers admire Ambree. But she's not. I'm the mom to two beautiful little girls, one here, one not. I'll continue to parent Ambree and will continue to parent Larissa as best as I can...by continuing her informational packets, visiting the cemetery daily and talking to her in my mind. I'll forever have a hole in my heart and long for my precious firstborn daily, but like many of my elderly and wiser patients have told me, I'll make the best of what I've been dealt. That's all I can do in addition to loving my precious daughter(s) forever.

I love you Larissa...Happy birthday.

Easter

This past Sunday we celebrated Easter.  Yes, this year was more of a celebration than last in that we celebrated Ambree, but I was well aware of Larissa's absence.  Of course I am aware of Larissa not being present during each of my daily activities, but somehow holidays have a way of heightening our losses.  I cannot believe that it is already our second Easter without Larissa.  I was reminded once again of what should have been as I scoured the racks in search of the perfect Easter dress for Ambree.  Anyone whom has tried to dress a six week old infant in a dress and tights is aware it is no easy task.  Each dress that I admired was too big for Ambree, but would have been perfect for Larissa.  Would have been but cannot be because Larissa is not here.  My life since November of 2010 has been filled with should have and would have been(s).  It's still surreal to me and although Larissa is on my mind often the reality of her absence creeps up on me in a way I cannot explain.  As our family expands, Ambree and any other subsequent children will always notice a sadness on behalf of myself and my husband as we are grateful for what we have but ache so badly for what we have lost. 

It's so strange to me because as I purchased items to fill Ambree's Easter basket I was well aware that I should be filling a 17 month old's basket as well.  However, Ambree is Larissa's gift to my husband and me.  Without Larissa we would never have had Ambree, but we would still have Larissa.  I cannot imagine life without Ambree but I was given no choice but to continue life without Larissa.  

Ambree was less than interested in the Easter bunny's arrival.  My husband and I laughed as she cried to eat while we finished opening her Easter basket.  As a six week old, all she cares about is eating and sleeping, so Easter was of little importance to her, but we still had fun.  We dressed her in her first Easter sleeper (inclusive of little bunny feet) and later tortured her in a very frilly dress and tights.  The things parents do to their children for their own entertainment.  Of course, we got a lot of photos so someday Ambree will be well aware of how we tortured her.  But when I look at the photos taken I see two happy parents with their newborn, but know those photos are not complete.  Larissa should be in those photos, but then again, Ambree would not.  I miss Larissa so very much and our family will forever be 'minus one', but in some sense it is now 'plus one' because unless by accident we would not have had another baby so close to Larissa had she survived.  

So another holiday came and went and we survived.  Again, this year was much more joyful than last, but we will forever long for Larissa's presence and wonder what our lives would have been like had she not been stillborn.  Our lives are forever changed in ways that only other bereaved parents can understand.  I told my husband the other day that since Ambree's arrival, I have three baby girls:  my almost 4 year old niece whom I still call 'baby girl', Larissa and now Ambree.  The reality of it though is that my niece and Ambree will continue to grow and hopefully live a full happy life and will no longer be my  baby girls, but Larissa will always remain my baby girl as that is all I will ever know.

She's Here!

It's been quite some time since I've posted and this post in particular is long overdue. Our miracle baby, Ambree, arrived safely on February 21st at 11:04 pm. Of course, she didn't arrive without a fight and causing me a few last sleepless nights, but she is here! She is already six weeks old.

     We had an amnio completed at 37 weeks to check for lung maturity. There was an initial error in the results, indicating our little one's lungs were not mature. The test was completed on the Friday prior to Ambree's arrival. That day was a challenge as the amnio was completed at the same hospital in which I delivered Larissa. Passing the room in which I gave birth to Larissa brought back that night from November of 2010 as if it were yesterday.

     Of course, I anticipated this and anyone whom has walked in my shoes knows that trauma never escapes you.  My heart sunk entering the labor and delivery unit and seeing that familiar room 337.  However, once we were there my fears subsided and I was beyond ready to deliver my baby girl.  Things did not work out as such.  After the completion of the amnio (a very easy, relatively pain-free procedure) we waited patiently for two hours for the results of the amnio while hooked up to a fetal monitor to ensure our baby wasn't in any distress.  We were informed at the end of our two hour wait that the results indicated our baby's lungs were not mature.  I was disappointed, but obviously didn't want to place my baby in jeopardy by delivering prematurely.  

     That was a Friday...fast forward now to Tuesday, the day we brought our rainbow baby into this world.  I received a call from my OB-GYN's office that the full results of my amnio were in and that our baby's lungs were indeed mature...very mature.  So, a few hours after that phone call and continuous poking of my belly to ensure our baby was okay, labor was induced.  Again, for whatever reason my journey to parenthood was a struggle and Ambree was not about to enter this world without a fight.  Half an hour after labor was induced, I was dilated 3cm, but was also passing significant blood clots.  My OB quickly made the decision to deliver Ambree via an emergency C-section as he was worried about a possible placental abruption.  That was all I needed to hear as I had read many stories of stillbirth secondary to placental abrution.  

     However, I didn't have too much time to worry as I was prepped for surgery and in under half an hour from the time my OB decided to do a section, Ambree arrived safely.  Granted the umbilical cord was wrapped around her neck and arm, but according to our fetal monitor she was never in any distress, and entered this world screaming.  

     I would love to say that her screams gave me instant relief...and they did to some extent.  However, a cry wasn't enough for me.  After all, I'm a trauma victim.  I did feel very relieved after seeing her and the pediatrician giving her a 9.9 on the Apgar Scale.  That made me relax and I was overjoyed with her arrival.  There isn't anything like it in the world.  

     We never did find a reason for my passing blood clots.  My placenta was fine as was the rest of my anatomy.  My doctor surmises it was from my cervix ripening too quickly in conjunction with my water breaking.  Either way, it doesn't matter as she is here and she's just perfect.  Hence why I haven't posted in a while.  I've been too busy holding my little one and marveling at her beauty.

     My advice to all bereaved moms no matter where you are in your journey is the following:  Pregnancy and childbirth when all goes well is a miraculous event.  I know all too well how scary it is to try again and how long nine months feels to a bereaved mom.  However, speaking from experience, the birth of a live child makes every ounce of worry, irrational thoughts, and tears shed all worthwhile.  While I type this with one hand I hold my miracle with my free hand.  She has restored joy in our lives an had we not tried again, we would never have gotten to experience this joy.  However, our journey has not ended with Ambree's arrival.  Ambree has also helped make Larisa feel that much more real and makes me miss her even more.  So, although I feel joy once again, I will always long for my firstborn.  It's weird because without Larissa we would never have Ambree, but we would still have Larissa.  I should have a live 17 month old and a newborn, but life had other plans for us and you must face what life deals you.

"Wait Till the Baby Comes..."

"Wait till the baby comes."  A common expression that I hear all too often, in fact, I probably hear someone say this to me practically every single day.  Usually, people say it when I yawn.  So, I can't help but ask myself what that comment even means.  Are these people insinuating that once our little one arrives, I won't get any sleep?  Little do they know that I yawn (and often) because I haven't slept well since November 15th of 2010 when we had to say 'hello' and 'goodbye' to our precious daughter on the same day.  Initially, my daughter kept me awake at night because I longed so badly for Larissa to be crying in her nursery, not her mom sobbing in her bedroom.  It's not natural to bury your child and me crying for months on end after delivery is certainly not the way I had planned on spending the duration of 2010 and much of 2011.  I cried more tears than one could imagine possible to shed and on top of that the moments I would dose off, I would awake to an awful panic attack as the reality of losing Larissa slapped me in the face all over again.  Oh, and then there were the months of trying to conceive unsuccessfully due to a luteal phase defect (which I knew was a source of our infertility but our doctor failed to recognize as such).  I would lie awake at night reflecting upon the forty weeks I spent pregnant with Larissa and on cloud nine and lay awake with thoughts of what should have been and the fear of it never being again haunting me.  Then, once pregnancy was achieved I worried incessantly about having a miscarriage.  That fear was replaced with the fear of having another stillborn baby after I reached the 20 week mark in my current pregnancy.  Now that I am approaching the end, I lay awake, poking my belly waiting for life to move inside of me.  I lay awake shedding tears as I long so much to hold and nurture Larissa.  I lay awake shedding tears with the fear of losing not only our firstborn, but our second born as well.  So, for all those people who treat me like I am a mom expecting her first child whom feel the need to comment when I let signs of my sleepless nights evidence themselves, I have two things to say to you:  1) This is not my first child and 2)  I am very well prepared for sleepless nights and will much prefer being awake at night feeding and comforting our little one than sobbing in my bed with my haunting thoughts.  

And for every person whom has asked me the other million dollar question "Are you ready?"  Again, I wonder to myself what that question even means.  I was told at 40 weeks gestation that our precious daughter (whom I took every precaution to make arrive in this world healthy), no longer had a beating heart.  As if the news that my firstborn was deceased at 40 weeks gestation was not traumatic enough, we then had to relay the news to our family and friends and I had to labor and deliver our beautiful daughter.  The trauma certainly did not stop there...with any trauma comes irrational thoughts, anger, rage, sadness, panic attacks and a loss of innocence.  Every one always says it can happen to me, but no one truly believes that until they fall victim to trauma themselves.   So, am I ready?  No, I am not ready.  I am not ready for the sound of a crying baby in the delivery room, as all I know is fetal demise.  I am not ready with a prepared nursery and baby items readily available in our house, because after a full term stillbirth none of that matters.  I am very much so ready to be not only a mom, but a parent.  I want this so badly, it hurts.  I'm ready for the sleepless nights and challenges associated with being a parent.  I am not ready in the typical sense...again, no nesting and/or preparations for me.  But, I am ready, so very ready, to be a parent to a live child.