Paralyzing Fear

This week has been challenging, to say the least.

We had our follow up ultrasound on Monday. We got in right at 4pm, but this time the technician was terrible. As soon as I got in the room, the technician said she needed to find some images that the last tech wasn't able to get. But instead of knowing beforehand what images she needed, she decided to ask me... She said she had a few of them written down but wasn't sure of the rest. I had to tell her the ones I knew about and then she had to leave the room (for what felt like hours) to go search for my anatomy scan results. She found what she needed, told me the cord is a 3 vessel cord (they were worried it may be 2 vessel, which has the potential to cause issues), printed off a picture and told me the results would be at the midwives' office in a few days. She didn't even ask if Derek was in the waiting room to come see his daughter. Nor did she show me the baby on the screen. I could only see her because I was watching the screen the entire time. It was a really disappointing appointment. Needless to say, for future ultrasounds I will be requesting a different tech if she is the one to come get me in the future.

Of course afterwards, all I could think about was what was wrong. I kept thinking that maybe she saw something and that is why she was terrible. I called the midwives' office today to have them read the results over the phone, and am just waiting for their return call. Anxiously waiting, I should say...

I was feeling a little bit better by Tuesday morning. I started to think that maybe she was just a really terrible ultrasound tech and there probably isn't anything wrong. I also realized that if anything was severely wrong with the baby, they would have got an OB in right there to tell us and wouldn't have let us leave the hospital. This was a little bit reassuring to me.

I worked 2-10pm on Tuesday, and it was fairly steady. I wasn't paying much attention to her movements like I normally do. I have been able to feel her move for almost 10 weeks now, and by this point she is moving regularly. When I got home at 10:30pm, I got changed and sat on the couch with Derek. Usually when I sit down and start to relax I can feel her move like crazy, but Tuesday night was different. I couldn't feel her at all. I gently pressed on my belly to see if she would start moving around - and she didn't. I laid down on my side and still nothing. At this point I was getting pretty worried. I told Derek I was having a hard time feeling her move. I drank some chocolate milk to try to get her moving around with all of that sugar. Still nothing.

I could literally feel my body going into panic mode. I felt paralyzed. Derek asked if we should go to the hospital. But before 24 weeks, there isn't much they can do if the baby isn't moving. Also, at this point, a Non-Stress Test won't give an accurate reading of the baby. We decided we should wait it out. We both sat in silence for an hour on the couch together. Hoping and praying that she would move. And she still didn't.

Eventually I decided I was going to head up to bed. I thought that maybe getting ready for bed and the sound of running water would wake her up (she always moves lots when I'm doing the dishes, in the shower, or washing my face before bed). Still nothing. Derek came to bed around 1am. By this point it had been 2.5 hours since I was trying to feel her. In my head, I had already assumed the worst. But still I kept waiting for her to move, even a little bit.

We turned out the lights and decided to try and fall asleep. Five minutes later, she moved! We were so relieved! The little bum must have been sleeping and decided to take an extra long nap.

At 22 weeks, most moms wouldn't think twice about not feeling the baby for a little while. But when you've lived through the worst, being aware of movement becomes an obsession. An obsession that is based on very real fear, and knowing firsthand that when a baby's movements decrease, this can indicate a major problem.

While I was so relieved to feel her moving, I was also angry. Not angry at her, but angry that this fear we feel is so very real. Angry that for the next 16 weeks, we are going to walk in the fear of "will our baby live, or won't she?" Angry that even if she gets here safe, sound, and breathing, we are going to be fearful of her losing her life to SIDS.

While I wish I could say "fear will not win," part of me feels like it already is. I love this little girl more and more every day, and as I become more hopeful for her life, the fear increases. Most moms are worried in the first trimester, and then this decreases as time goes on and the viability of the baby's life increases. This is the opposite for us. As time goes on, I become more fearful that this sweet baby girl won't be coming home with us.

These days the fear is just as strong as the hope.

The Only Guarantee

Another holiday passed, and I'm still standing. I was especially missing Brooklyn this Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is my favourite time of year and this time last year I had pictured our life to be very different. It really wasn't the same without her. I was however thankful to celebrate a holiday with the hope of new life, even if this hope is very much guarded at times.

I have found that my grief has yet again changed at the 6 month mark. Every time I feel like I have a handle on this grieving thing, things change and I am forced to confront new feelings and experiences. While I'm thankful that grief forces me to continually grow, I wish personal growth in these areas of my life could happen without having to lose Brooklyn. Lately I have been experiencing a lot of deep sadness. Being pregnant doesn't help this, as I am much more emotional during this pregnancy than I was my last. I cry at anything and everything and feel things much deeper than normal. 

After getting past lots of pride, stubbornness, and a very independent personality, I have started seeing a counsellor. I have met with this person in the past for other issues I've had, so I find it helpful that we already have rapport built. She is able to connect my feelings to knowledge of who I am, where I come from, and the experiences that tie these things together. So far I have found meeting with her really helpful. I know how important it is to ensure I am in good mental health for myself, Derek, and this growing baby of ours. As I get further along in this pregnancy, and the idea of actually getting to bring this baby home becomes more real, I want to make sure I am emotionally prepared for all of the different feelings that may come as a result. It's also been helpful to work through past issues that have arisen as a result of this traumatic loss. 

I am so thankful to our Brooklyn for the perspective her short little life has given me. I have learned that life really is such a precious gift. Not something to be taken lightly. I no longer assume things like Derek and I will live to be 90 and grow old together, or that the rest of our children will outlive us both. While I hope and pray that these desires of my heart come true, I know that my life and the life of those around me can end at any given moment. The events in Ottawa this week and the loss of Cpl. Nathan Cirillo has yet again reinforced this for me. I feel like I have been grieving even deeper since Wednesday. I have thought of Nathan's mother often, and been trying to imagine everything she must be feeling right now. My heart has been so heavy for his family. 

This new perspective doesn't mean that I now live my life thinking "glass half empty" all the time, but I try not to take things for granted. I make sure I tell Derek I love him before bed every night and before we both leave for work, even if I'm feeling that I don't particularly "like" him in that moment. This new understanding of life has also greatly affected my pregnancy this time around. I try to embrace every moment - even if my back hurts, my feet are already swollen, and I'm feeling huge. I remember to enjoy every kick I am feeling because I know all too well that it could be the last time I feel this baby move. 

A website I follow (stillstandingmag.com) highlighted an article a while ago that has really helped me during this pregnancy. The writer Angela Miller is writing to women who are pregnant again after the loss of a child. Part of it says "How I wish I could tell you - you are guaranteed this. You should be - but you and I both know there are no guarantees. There is only now." 

She is absolutely right. There is only now. I am so thankful for each morning I wake up and the baby is still moving. My midwife reminded me again this week, that the chance of losing this baby is extremely low. This helps, but oh how I wish we were guaranteed to bring home a healthy baby girl at the end of these long 38 weeks. 

Instead, I will continue to make every moment with this girl count. I will keep learning things about her, like how she moves around any time she is near the sound of running water - just like her sister did. And I will continue to enjoy calling her by name. Yes - Derek and I are almost 100% set on a name for this lady now. It helps me feel more connected to her, and makes my hope for her life even stronger. I will keep reading to her and talking to her - helping her know how very loved she already is.

We received the official ultrasound results late last week and everything looks great. The actual report says "no abnormalities found." We also learned that our sweet baby has long legs like her Daddy! The midwife said her femur bone measures larger than average. We do have to go back for a follow up ultrasound this Monday though. Because of her position, the tech had a hard time getting a few of the images he needed. My midwife assured me that there is absolutely nothing to worry about and this happens all the time. I am feeling a little bit nervous but nothing compared to how I was feeling last time. If you are reading this and remember to think of us on Monday at 4pm, we would really appreciate your thoughts and prayers. I'm really excited to get another look of this little lady too! Oh and they moved our due date up from March 5th to March 3rd! This means she will come even earlier in February now. It is funny how two days makes such a difference.

"The time is now sweet mama. It's the only guarantee. The secret is to simply be. Right here, right now - with your baby." This has been my anthem lately.

The time is now. It's the only guarantee. 

The link to Angela Miller's article is here: http://stillstandingmag.com/2014/03/dear-sweet-mama-courage-roars/ 

"Our Girls"

Yesterday we found out that we are having another precious baby girl. The day was full of so many different emotions, and by the time the ultrasound was finally over, I was completely exhausted.

We arrived at McMaster around 2:15pm - 15 minutes before my appointment. They didn't call my name until 3pm. I sat there anxiously waiting as person after person was called before me. When the tech finally came out, my heart sank as I walked down the hall to the scan room by myself, while Derek and our moms had to stay in the waiting room. I knew there was one male tech in McMaster visual diagnostics, and I had hopped that I didn't end up with him. I guess in my head I had already assumed he would not be comforting and would increase my anxiety. The room reminded me too much of the room we were in when we found out Brooklyn's heart had stopped. As I laid back on the bed, I felt my whole body tense up and my heart started to race really fast.

The tech asked me a few questions including my birthdate, the baby's due date, and how to spell my last name. I told him in the beginning that we wanted to find out the baby's sex. He smiled, poured the freezing cold gel on my belly and started the scan. About 15 minutes into the scan, the tech stopped and turned the screen toward me. For that split second, my heart dropped and I assumed that there was something wrong. Instead, he was showing me that our little baby was yawning. "Baby is getting bored of us" he said with a smile on his face. My heart rate slowed a little bit as I now knew that baby was still alive and moving around. But my body remained tense.

At one point in the scan, the tech asked me if I was okay. "Just really nervous" I replied. "Don't be nervous, everything looks great. Your baby is just moving around a lot. It's good to have a baby who moves lots, but it just makes my job a bit more difficult" he said. I felt my body become a little bit less tense. This man that I assumed would not be comforting was providing me with comfort and telling me that everything looks great, when he in fact is not really supposed to be telling me anything at all. "This isn't our first" I said. "We lost our first daughter. She was stillborn." He didn't know what to say, so he just gave me a heart felt "oh no." Normally I would have been mad that someone couldn't provide a more compassionate response but he had built rapport with me and already done a lot to ease some of my anxiety.

However, I was still really frustrated. Why was it not included in my file that our first and only child was born still? Should this not be a very important piece of my medical history now? I love living in Canada and am incredibly thankful for our healthcare system (especially for Hamilton Health Sciences), but sometimes the process and lack of communication between medical professionals really makes me angry.

About 50 minutes in he asked me to turn on my right side so he could get a better view of something. Then he asked me to turn to my back again and said "you want to find out the gender, right?" I said yes, not assuming he would tell me right then and there. He turned the screen toward me, and all I saw were two little chicken legs. "I can't tell I said". Then he typed out "XX" and said, "see these three lines here, that means you are having a girl." I immediately started to cry. I wasn't prepared to find out by myself but I was so happy to find out SHE is a girl. I continued to cry for a while as I thought about having the opportunity to be a mommy to another girl. The tension in my body completely released and I felt a sense of peace and huge relief.

I was convinced this baby was a boy. My pregnancy has been so different than it was with Brooklyn. But I also think I convinced myself it was a boy so that if it in fact was, my heart wouldn't be completely devestated. Of course all we want this time around is a healthy, living, breathing baby, but I have always wanted a little girl. When we lost Brooklyn, I wondered if I would ever have this opportunity again in my life. I convinced myself that she was our only shot, and we would only have boys from now on.

Just over an hour after the scan started, he said "okay, we're all done." He printed off a picture and asked if I had anyone in the waiting room. I said yes and he said he needed to go to his computer and make sure he had all the images he needed. He told me to go empty my bladder and get Derek and our moms and bring them back to the scan room.

I walked out the doors to the waiting room and I could tell that they were concerned I was the one coming to get them. I'm sure they felt relieved when I had a huge smile on my face. I told them they could come back now. As we walked down the hallway, I said "he already told me the sex." We got in the room and I said "at first I couldn't tell, but he pointed it out and it was really obvious." "It's a boy then" they all said. With a big smile on my face I said "it's actually a girl." They were all so excited! And we waited for the tech to come back in to show us our little girl. She looked so perfect. We watched her move around for a bit and he showed us her different body parts, and then showed Derek and our moms that she is a girl.

By the time we were leaving the hospital, I was physically and emotionally exhausted. My body felt weak and sore from being so tense, but I was so excited to know that this little baby growing inside of me is a little sister. Our moms and Derek all asked how I felt about the news, and all I kept saying was "relieved." The stress and tension I had carried around for the past few months felt like it was all lifted off of my shoulders.

We are now one step closer to having a healthy baby in our arms. However, while last time at this point we felt relieved to know that we were officially in the "safe zone," this time we realize that there is never truly a safe zone until there is a healthy baby here.

Last night was the first time in months that I slept through the night. I didn't even wake up to go to the bathroom. I think it was a combination of being so completely exhausted from the day, and being relieved the scan is over.

We feel so blessed to be able to say things like "our girls." Being in the nursery I feel a huge sense of peace wash over me, as I know that we will be able to use some of the outfits, blankets, and toys that we had once hoped to use for Brooklyn. There are definitely some things that I won't be able to use for this baby girl because emotionally it will be too difficult. But once again my heart is full of joy.

This little girl will be her own little person, never replacing Brooklyn, never having to walk in her big sister's shadow. I wonder if she will look like Brooklyn. Will she have her curly brown hair or her cute little nose? I do know that she will always know she has a big sister who is always loved and forever missed. This little one will always be our second - no less important than our first.

I mourn the fact that these sisters will never get to do sister things together. They will never get to talk about boys together, steal each other's clothes, or paint each other's nails. I'm sad to know that Brooklyn will never have the chance to be the older wiser sister to this little one. As a big sister myself, I was excited for a firstborn girl and it makes me sad that Brooklyn can't do the things I have done for my little sister. While our family unit won't be "typical," it will be our own, and both of our girls will forever know how incredibly special and important they each are.

We are so very thankful for all the prayers and positive thoughts. I know they helped us get through yesterday.

 Today I am 19 weeks and officially half way through this pregnancy, a place I wasn't sure I would ever make it to again. We're so excited to dream new dreams for this baby girl. To prepare for her just as we did with her sister, and to meet her in 19 more weeks.

"All of My Life, In Every Season, You are still God"

"This is my prayer in the desert, when all that's within me feels dry. This is my prayer and my hunger and need, my God is the God who provides. This is my prayer in the fire, in weakness or trial or pain. There is a faith proved of more worth than gold, so refine me Lord through the flame."

The above lyrics are taken from a song called "Desert Song" by Hillsong United. It was written by Brooke Fraser (one of the reasons we chose Brooklyn's name).

It has almost been 6 months since we had our girl - half a year. When we first lost her, I didn't know what the next hour would hold, let alone what life would look like 6 months after losing her. The death of our child truly has been my desert. I have had some of the hardest days of my life - days I really wasn't sure I had the energy to make it through.

Many days I have questioned the presence of God. I've had people tell me they have no idea how I could continue to believe in a God who would allow our girl to die. And to be honest, I have really had to take a good long look at my faith and if I truly believe the things I say I do.

I know this is something I will probably wrestle with my whole entire life, but in this desert season, I have learned that God is more present than I give him credit for. God has orchestrated so many different people, conversations, and events in the last 6 months alone, that have shown me even in times of "weakness, trial, or pain," He is the only constant, and he is trying to redeem this really terrible thing that has happened.

God's presence and unfailing love has never been so evident to me. I think I have seen this most in the relationships that have been restored and healed since losing Brooklyn. Many people have extended forgiveness and grace to me when I'm not sure I deserved it. This is exactly what God does - he provides us with things we are not worthy of and asks for nothing in return. And I am so thankful for the people in my life who are actively living out the gospel, probably without realizing it.

Someone asked me the other day what stage of grief I feel like I'm in right now. After thinking about it for a little bit, I decided I'm in the acceptance stage. The loss of Brooklyn will never fully be right with my soul, but right now, I'm in a place where I know that being bitter, angry, and deeply sad will not bring her back. I still miss her every single day, but I know that she would want me to live life to the fullest. Her very short little life has taught me to be thankful for every day here on this earth. Wasting my time being constantly bitter, envious and sad is such a waste of such a precious life.

I really do feel healing taking place in my life in general, my relationship with Derek, and my relationship with others. And while this pregnancy has been really scary, I know that God is using this precious baby to provide healing to us too.

Next Wednesday we have the anatomy scan where we will find out the sex of this baby. I have a really strong feeling that it is a boy, but only time will tell! As time gets closer, I am more anxious about this scan. Please pray that the scan reveals this little one is growing strong and healthy, and that there are no major concerns with his/her development. And please remember to send us good vibes on Wednesday. Ultrasounds are not as fun for us as they were the first time around. Now they come with a lot of anxiety - especially because Derek is still not allowed in the room with me and the anatomy scan takes quite a long time. I'm sure the hour will feel like days to both of us as the ultrasound tech thoroughly looks over this baby.

"This is my prayer in the harvest, where favour and providence flow. I know I'm filled to be emptied again. This seed I've received I must sow."

I know that God provides restoration and healing to our lives so that we can be a blessing to others. I also know that tomorrow I could have a really crappy day where I am back in the "anger" stage of this grieving process. So I will continue to embrace these moments, and try to the best of my ability to live my life knowing that God is always looking for ways to redeem this very broken world, and that he very much wants me to be a part of it.