Greater Purpose

Since losing Brooklyn, I honestly can't even count the amount of times I have been contact by someone who has either lost a baby or child, or someone who is looking for resources and insights for a friend or family member who has recently lost a baby.

Every single time I get these emails or text messages, my heart becomes so heavy. I go right back to the deep feelings of sadness I had last April.

Then I become angry. Angry that I'm receiving these messages way too frequently. Angry that it's 2015 and babies are still dying - some before they ever take a breath.

I was talking to a friend who has recently been affected by the loss of someone's baby. She said her grandmother was saying how it was fairly common to lose a child back in her day. But the past two years, she has heard about it more than ever. This shouldn't be happening. Things need to change. Our system is broken, and very few people are speaking out about this issue.

Mike Colle is one of those people. Mike is the Eglinton-Lawrence MPP, and last Tuesday put forth Bill 141 called the "Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness, Research, and Care Act, 2015." http://mikecolle.onmpp.ca/News/11656?l=EN#.VlB839ocA5Y.facebook

Through this act, he hopes to:

• Establish and expand comprehensive research initiatives and programs to assist mothers and families who experience pregnancy loss or infant death
• Undertake a comprehensive comparative analysis to understand the factors that contribute to an increased risk of pregnancy loss or infant death
• Develop and expand programs to help reduce the risk of pregnancy loss or infant death
• Develop and expand existing programs across Ontario to provide counselling and support to mothers and families who have experienced pregnancy loss or infant death
• Undertake a comprehensive analysis and survey of the best practices in other jurisdiction in regards to prevention of pregnancy loss or infant death

Finally - someone in power is speaking out about a topic often taboo in our culture. People still struggle to talk about pregnancy loss and infant death, and the people affected most are the parents, family members and friends of the child who has died. 

If you are interested in signing this petition, PLEASE do. You will need to print a copy and mail it in. Unfortunately in order for the signature to be valid, online petitions as well as ones that are photocopied and faxed are not permissible. 
Bill 141 Printable Petition

If you are interested in signging but don't have a printer, I have a copy you can sign! Please contact me and I will do what I can to get the petition in your hands. I will even mail it for you.

Also, please contact your local MPP to tell them how important this issue is. Their opinion matters and if they are made aware of this issue and how many people think its important, real change can happen. 

MPP Contact Information - this is the link to find the contact information for your local MPP.


Finally, if you ever hear of people who have lost a child and would be looking for resources or information, please never hesitate to contact me. When people ask me for advice and resources, it helps me feel like Brooklyn's life continues to serve greater purpose. Greater purpose than I will likely ever know. 

Someone Came Before You

It has been over a month and a half since I have last written a blog post. Not because I haven't wanted to, or because I didn't have the time, or because I haven't needed to use writing as a way to cope. Mostly because I often feel like I should be at a different stage in this grieving process. I feel embarrassed sometimes that I still have days where I miss my baby so much that my body physically aches. On November 5th, Brooklyn would have been 19 months old. Enough time has passed, that I feel like there's an expectation from others that I should be "better" by now. That thinking about Brooklyn, or talking about her somehow means I am dwelling on the past and not "moving on". I feel awkward bringing her up in conversation, or talking about my labour and delivery story - as if my story of her birth is any less valid or important than any one else's.

Right after we lost her, we met with the social worker at the hospital who told us this would happen. Time would move on, so would other people, slowly they would stop acknowledging her existence, and we would be left feeling like we are scrambling to hold onto any pieces of her memory we have left. This is how I've felt lately. I know it's not an intentional thing or something that is done to hurt us, it's just what happens when time moves on and our baby doesn't move with it. It's not even that I want to talk about her all the time, I just long to hear anyone say they miss her too.

Missing her definitely comes in waves. Actually no - missing her is constant, the intensity of this feeling varies. August, September, and the beginning of October were really hard months for me. I missed her like crazy and I felt like I was struggling to be a good mama to Aubrey because of it. I can't pin point the exact time the intensity lessened or why, but the feeling is easier these days. I know that the overwhelming longing will return again, and that I will be a little bit stronger each time it does.

I still keep Brooklyn's blanket on our bedside table. The only time I move it is to pick it up and smell it. Sometimes I feel weird for doing that, but when the memories we have of her are so few, I'll take what I can get. I know one day I will move it, maybe even tuck it away in her little memory box, but I don't like to think about that yet. Aubrey's things are scattered around our house, it helps me to know that Brooklyn has something lying around too.

Lately I have been trying to do more things for me. Since we got pregnant with Brooklyn in July of 2013, my body has either been used to grow or nurse a baby. My pregnancies were both physically draining, and my pregnancy with Aubrey was very stressful. I feel blessed that I am able to do these things, but it got to a point where I was exhausted and feeling like I was giving so much of myself away and not taking any time to refuel my batteries. I've slowly started doing things for myself again, and it has made a difference in both my mood and my perspective. I've also started letting go of things quicker, and being more intentional about how I spend my time. Life's too short - I don't want to look back and regret wasting so much time doing things that don't actually matter.

Tonight before bedtime, I was reading the book called "Someone Came Before You" to Aubrey. It talks about a Mommy and Daddy who had a baby who died, and how that baby stretched their hearts big enough to let in more love again. During one part, I was choking back the tears. Aubrey snuggled in close to me like she sometimes does, as if she knew that was exactly what I needed. Tears started streaming down my face, and I held her tight and told her I love her so very much. That sweet girl has softened my heart in a way I didn't think was possible again. She has taught me it's okay to laugh so hard I cry, and that it's okay to hope for better days. She truly is our rainbow after a storm.

Not "Just" Milestones

Tomorrow is the 15th. That means that Aubrey has been safe in our arms for 7 whole months. I honestly do not know where the time has gone. I feel like I blinked and summer went by.

Our lives have been forever changed by this sweet girl. She makes our lives brighter, our patience stronger, and our hearts more full.

"Time heals all things." Is a very popular saying. I'm not sure if the person who first said this lived a very sheltered life, where they never encountered any sort of pain or grief, but this has certainly not been the case for me. I wish I could tell this person that yes "time changes many things," but it can't always completely heal them. That is not to say that Aubrey's life has not mended parts of me that I thought were broken forever. But there are certainly parts of me that will forever be empty. Though it doesn't make sense when I have a living child, there will be times when my arms will still feel so very empty. And they still do sometimes.  These feelings have changed as time has gone on, but the longing I have for my first baby girl is still very much present. I still have yet to go a whole day without thinking of Brooklyn, though she is not always on the forefront of my mind anymore as Aubrey's daily needs demand lots of attention sometimes. Who am I kidding... most of the time.

I feel like in the past month, Aubs has grown and changed so much. She is now officially doing the "army crawl" to scoot around the floor, eating three "meals" a day (though still small meals), saying "mama" and "dada" just in the past week, and her little personality seems to form more and more every day. She really is such a sweet girl - though fiery and stubborn at times. I really do believe she will make the world a better place with both kindness and determination some day - actually, she already has.

All of these milestones are so exciting for us. I am sure they are exciting for anyone who has the privilege of parenting a living child for the first time, but for me, these milestones are a constant reminder of how blessed I am to watch this second born of mine grow.

Oh how I wish I could watch Brooklyn try to figure out how to crawl, or feel the same joy I felt when Aubrey first said "mama". These aren't just milestones to me. They never will be. On Aubrey's first day of kindergarten , when she graduates high school, when (and if she decides) to walk down the aisle, when (and if she decides) to have a child of her own some day - all of these things will be extra special to us.

Of course these stages sometimes bring sadness, as I wish I had the privilege of watching Brooklyn go through all of these milestones as well. But there is also an unexplainable joy that comes from watching Aubs go through them. Such a fine line we walk of grief and joy. There was a time last year when I wondered if I would ever be able to watch a child of my own do any of these things. And now here she is, our little rainbow baby who brings us joy even on our darkest days.

My heart will forever be longing for my firstborn, but loving our second that much more deeply.

Another 5th

Around noon today, I realized I had been more emotional than usual, and was feeling physically and emotionally drained. We just got back from a trip to Saskatchewan to spend some time with Derek's family, so I just chalked it up to travelling and the time change catching up with me.

Then I realized today is the 5th. It has been 16 months since I last held my firstborn baby. I can still remember her sweet smell, and how round her big chubby cheeks were. Aubrey has the same cheeks that Brooklyn did, and sometimes when I kiss them, I feel like I'm right back in the moment when I kissed our girl goodbye, and felt her cold but soft cheeks on my lips. I would give almost anything to go back to that moment.

I wrote quite a few blog entires about how difficult being pregnant after losing Brooklyn was. Something I quickly realized once Aubrey was here, was that the difficulties weren't yet over.

Being pregnant after losing a child was extremely difficult, but parenting after loss has proven to be one of the hardest things I have ever done. In a lot of ways, way more difficult than being pregnant.

The day Aubrey was born, I was changing her diaper for the very first time. She spat up and started choking on her spit up, and then started to go blue. I pulled the emergency cord out of the wall and all of the nurses came rushing in. One nurse (who is actually a mutual friend) grabbed Aubrey out of my hands and rushed her off to the nursery. It was the scariest moment of my life. I had just delivered our living breathing miracle, and now I was sure we were going to lose her. She ended up being okay after they suctioned her, but Derek and I remained extremely nervous for a really long time after that. The first few days we had her home, I'm sure neither of us got any sleep because we were so nervous that the same thing would happen again.

And it actually did, when she was 5 weeks old, in the middle of the night she started choking on spit up again. She didn't go blue, but was lethargic and wouldn't open her eyes. We called 911 and went to Mac. Again she was fine, but another scary moment for us.

While we are more relaxed now, there are many things that are just plain difficult for us as we are parenting for the first time after losing our child. We invested in a video monitor for peace of mind once Aubrey started sleeping in her own room. This was a big step for me. I even cried that day, but knew that for Aubrey, Derek and I, it was the best decision. I often still find myself checking the video monitor to make sure her little back is rising up and down.

Even though she is a happy and healthy almost 6 month old little girl, the fear of losing her will always be in the back of my mind. Derek and I are very aware of our anxieties and fears, and have vowed to not be parents who place her in a bubble. We want her to be able to explore and figure out this world, even though at times it will be really difficult for us to let her do this. The thought of her getting hurt or working through disappointments in life already makes me tear up.

We know that for anyone who is parenting for the first time, so many things are new and scary. This has definitely been the case for us, and in many ways has been amplified by the loss of our Brooke.

We continue to be thankful for the many people who surround and encourage us through this parenting after loss journey. We're blessed to have other parents who are fumbling through parenting along side us, and the veteran parents who have been through it, are on the other side, and are cheering us on and giving advice.

My advice to any pregnant or new parents is to surround yourself with these people too. Parenting is the hardest and most important job you will ever do. It can be made just a little easier if we love and support each other along the way. 

Tiny Baby Clothes

As I sit here, on a Saturday night at just 10pm, folding laundry and unwinding from a busy day, I am overwhelmed with just how blessed I really am.

I remember so vividly how excited I was to be washing, drying, and folding tiny little pieces of clothing after our baby showers we had to celebrate Brooklyn. All of the cute girly clothes, receiving blankets, socks, towels and washcloths all folded perfectly and put away in preparation for our sweet baby. Once we lost her, I had a really hard time looking at all of those outfits baby items, knowing how much I had prepared for her arrival, and how I would never get to enjoy seeing her dressed up or using any of what I had washed.

Towards the end of my pregnancy with Aubs, I think I only did two loads of laundry. It took me a long time to work up the courage to do this - mostly because I was scared. So very scared that I would spend time, energy, and emotions preparing all of these "things" for her, only to be disappointed again. Still, I did the few loads of laundry I had, and hoped and prayed for a different outcome.

Anyone who's had a newborn knows just how much laundry you do in the first few months of their life. Something that was fun and exciting in preparation for Brooklyn, and then difficult and emotional while preparing for Aubs - quickly turned into just another mundane task that I have done many many times since Aubrey's safe arrival.

But as I sit here tonight folding tiny baby clothes, I found myself overwhelmed with emotion. My eyes started to swell with tears, as I remembered those times that I washed items for Aubrey, not knowing if she would ever get to use them. Before they were just items that helped hope. Now they hold memories of things I have been able to see Aubrey do, and experiences we have had with her. Her laundry isn't just laundry, but hope that was fulfilled in the form of a 7lb 9oz baby girl.

She is here, and she is safe. Sometimes I forget that just over 5 months ago, I wasn't so sure this would be the case.

It's often the things that seem the most mundane that remind me just how blessed I am. A great reminder to me that it is such a privilege to be able to do these little daily tasks for her that "just need to be done." The time it takes to nurse her, schedule outings around nap times (even when it seems inconvenient), washing and sanitizing her toys, and the tiny baby clothes that I have the privilege of folding.

Tonight, for the first time in a little while, I am reminded of how very thankful I am for Aubrey's life and health, and the joy that she brings us. 

One Less

June 22nd marked one full year since we found out we were pregnant with Aubs. One year since we began the very scary and complicated pregnancy after loss journey. I remember so clearly the Sunday morning I took the test. It was the day after a friends' wedding, where feelings of grief hit me very hard when the parents of the bride gave their speech. So many emotions came as a result of those two pink lines, but mostly just relief that we were able to get pregnant again. One of my fears after losing Brooklyn was that we would struggle to get pregnant again. When June 22nd came this year, it felt so surreal that a whole year had passed. Some days I still can't believe that Aubrey is here safe. I spent so much time worrying about her arrival, and now my entire life revolves around tiny person.

Aubs is now 4.5 months old. I feel like she changes and learns new things every day now. Most recently she learned to flip from her back to her tummy. Her new favourite thing is to flip over and over again from back to tummy and tummy to back. It makes diaper changes a little bit more challenging. It's so fun to see how proud of herself she is when she learns something new. She has also been so interested in our drinks lately. She grabs at our cups and tries to put them in her mouth. Recently I started giving her tiny bits of water in her sippy cup to see if she liked it. It only took her a day to catch on! I know everyone thinks their child is so smart, but she really is such a bright little girl. I love her to pieces and can't wait to see the impact she makes on this world.

Last week Derek and I were driving around in Dundas because Aubrey fell asleep in the car and we wanted to let her finish her nap before getting home. We drove through Grove Cemetery where Brooklyn is buried but didn't stop for fear of Aubrey waking. I haven't been there to visit in a long time and I began to feel really guilty.

Before having Aubrey I was afraid that my love for her would change my love for Brooklyn. In some ways it has. Almost all of my time is devoted to making sure Aubrey is fed, clean, sleeping, learning, growing, happy, etc. When she is napping or sleeping for the night, I try to get things done around the house, leaving little time for much else in my life. What hasn't changed, is the fact that I think about Brooklyn every single day. I think about her when Aubrey's big blue eyes light up, and when she lets out a big belly laugh. I still wonder what colour eyes Brooklyn had, and what her sweet laugh would have sounded like. The joy is always mixed with the longing for my firstborn.

I've said it before, but recently I have really been mourning the fact that Brooklyn and Aubrey will never have a sister relationship here on this earth. When I see pictures of sisters together, I always think of Brooklyn. Even if we were to have another daughter one day, it just won't be the same.

A friend of my mom's took family pictures for us recently. They turned out really great, and we even included our Brooklyn bear in some of them. But looking through the pictures, I found myself getting sad and teary-eyed. Our family pictures will always be missing one person. And our family will always be one less than it should be. I was struck by this a lot when we were at our friends' daughter's first birthday party this past week. She texted me that morning saying that she was sad the party would be missing one little person. Knowing others love and miss her too helps soothe my aching heart just a little bit. And knowing that this friend anticipated my heart would be especially missing my girl that day helped validate how I was already feeling.

I used to feel guilty for feeling this way. Almost like if I missed Brooklyn, it meant I wasn't grateful for Aubrey. What I've come to realize is that it's okay and actually healthy to hold both feelings simultaneously. I love both of my girls, and because Aubrey is physically here, I'm able to show her my love by hugging her and kissing her and making sure she is safe. Part of the way my love for Brooklyn comes through is when I miss her.

I talk to Aubrey about her sister a lot. I tell her that she looks like her sissy, and read her a story called "Someone Came Before You", where I replace the words "baby" with "Brooklyn" to personalize it. Even in her absence, Brooklyn will always be such a big part of our family.

I'm excited for the day she starts asking about her pictures and things we have placed around the house to remember her. I'm excited for the day she can say Brooklyn's name. But I'm most excited for the day that our entire family can be reunited, and we are no longer one less.

When Grief Creeps In

Things around here have been going really well lately. Aubrey is 3.5 months old, is sleeping really well most nights, she's catching on to this nap training thing, and has become a much happier baby than she once was. She still has her fussy moments, but she is very smiley and has such a bright personality.

In two more days, Brooklyn should be turning 14 months old. I remember when we first lost her, a mum who had been on a similar journey told me that one day she would no longer be the first thing I thought of when I woke up in the morning. I didn't believe her then, but that is the point I'm now at in this grieving process. I've still yet to get through a full day without thinking of her at least once, though.

I miss her a lot lately. I have missed her since we lost her, but this longing is different. It's the kind you can feel in your bones. The kind that hurts your heart and makes your arms ache even though they seem full. Grief comes in waves. Very messy, complicated waves.

Many people have made this longing a bit easier lately. We've received cards and presents in the mail addressed to Derek, Brooklyn, Aubrey and I. A friend sent me the new-ish Hillsong song "Even When It Hurts" because it made her think of me and our journey of loss. If you have ever experience any kind of loss and are a believer, I highly recommend you listen to this song. Last week at church someone who had yet to meet Aubrey in person told me that she is "just as beautiful as Brooklyn." It feels good just to even hear her name coming from someone else's mouth sometimes. We appreciate the recognition that she existed, and will always have a special place in our heart and in our lives helps on the days when grief hits hard.

The past few months, I have heard more and more stories of people losing their babies. A friend of a friend lost her sweet baby boy at 20 weeks gestation. A friend from university texted me and asked for resources for her  cousin who lost her sweet baby while she was in labour - a story similar to ours. And a friend's co-worker lost her sweet girl at full term.

It has been an honour to come along side some of these people and support them through their losses, though I wish so badly there no one had to experience the loss of a child. My heart aches for every single one of these families, as I know the long journey that is ahead of them because I'm still on the journey myself. The kind of journey that will never end as long as we are living. It still just doesn't feel right that things like this happen. I'm not sure I will ever get to a place where I have the attitude of "sometimes bad things just happen..." Obviously I know things like that happen way too often than I like to think, but it still just isn't right.

I've had lots of moments lately where I feel overwhelmed with grief, and go right back in my mind to the time we found out we lost Brooklyn. Before "19 Kids and Counting" was cancelled, they aired their daughter Jill's birth story. Her labour was long - 70 hours, and it ended with an emergency C-section because there was meconium in her water, the baby's heart rate was elevated and he was in distress. They mentioned in the episode that Jill was born May 17, 1991 (my birthday) and her baby boy was born April 6th (Brooklyn was born the 5th.) This story is far too similar to ours. The one difference was their outcome resulted in the birth of a healthy boy. The whole time I was watching the episode, I felt like I was right back in the delivery room with Brooklyn. I actually cried lots of tears of joy when they safely got her baby out. That should have been how it was for us too. It should be how it is for everyone.

I've continued to have people ask me when we think we'll start trying for another baby. I just keep telling people that yes we would like to have more, but we're not sure when. This is the absolute truth. But there's another part to it. Even though we have now had a pregnancy that ended in a healthy living baby, the thought of another pregnancy is terrifying to me. Medical professionals told us all through our pregnancy with Aubrey that baby loss can happen to absolutely anyone at any time. It feels like because this happened to us once that we should be guaranteed to never have to go through it again. Unfortunately this isn't the case.

I got together with some friends who are pregnant a couple weeks ago, and we were talking about how terrifying pregnancy is. All of the unknowns and new things your body goes through. The questioning of whether symptoms or lack thereof are "normal". So many things are just scary during this time. For me, there are all of these things, plus the added reality of knowing that not all pregnancies end happily with a baby in your arms.

Despite this fear, yes we would love to have more kids one day. We're just not sure when. For now, we're loving all of the firsts we are getting to experience with our little Aubs.

I'm loving that she is so smiley and laughs often. She is forming her little personality and we are seeing bits of Derek and I come out in her. She becomes frustrated when she can't do things right away, which is very much like me. And unfortunately is a fan of her Daddy's music. Though she likes the Dixie Chicks too, so I can't complain too much! :) She has blue eyes like her Mama and her Daddy's ears and cute little dimples. Words can't explain how much we love this little girl. But yet there is still the longing for her sister, and the wondering of what Brooklyn's personality would have been like, what music she would have liked, and what colour her eyes would have been. This joy is often accompanied by the continued grief.

Thank you to everyone who continues to journey this long road with us. We are so blessed to have such a great community of people who love us and our girls deeply. And please keep the families I have mentioned in your thoughts and prayers.

Twenty Four

Yesterday I celebrated my 24th birthday. I had such a great time with friends and family this weekend, and often thought back to what my 23rd birthday was like. It was only 5 weeks after we lost Brooklyn, and I was in the anger stage of my grief. I was angry at most things, a lot of people, and felt very bitter about my life. Even though it was still full of many great things, being a mama was the one thing I've always wanted most and it had just been ripped out from underneath me.

This year was so very different. There was much more joy, and my arms were full again, yet still missing one little person.There's that old hymn that has the line "it is well, with my soul". I'm finding that no matter how much time passes, losing Brooklyn still doesn't sit well with my soul. It still feels so wrong and often times still surreal. Though Aubrey (nor any other children we may be blessed with), will never fill the Brooklyn-sized hole in my heart, she has brought a kind of joy to my life that I thought I would never be able to feel. I was especially thankful for that this weekend.

As I reflect back on the last 24 years of my life, it is crazy to me just how much "life" it feels like I have lived. So much has happened in such a short amount of time - good things and bad. I have been blessed with so many amazing opportunities including travelling to West Africa on a missions trip twice, graduating an amazing and highly acclaimed undergraduate program, marrying a man who loves me unconditionally, and giving birth to two beautiful girls. I have always been a planner - someone who likes schedules, lists, organization, and control over most things in my life. And when things in life didn't turn out exactly how I had planned, I always had a plan B lined up right behind it. My type A personality often made me up tight, not flexible, and just not very much fun to be around at times.

Along with everything I listed above, my biggest shortcoming was thinking that I had everything in my life figured out. I have had this picture in my head of exactly how I wanted my life to be, and knew the steps I would need to take to get there. It went something like this...  "Get married - check. Graduate university - check. Buy a house - check. Get a dog - check. Land a job in my field - check. Have three babies - check.. wait, our first baby died and things didn't turn out exactly how I wanted, now what...?"

This past year, the best thing that has happened to me is that I have learned to let go of a lot of my expectations. I have started to learn to give up control of a lot in my life. I've learned that it's okay to soften my heart and let people in every once in a while. And I've learned is that I really don't "have it all figured out". Someone asked me the other day how many more kids Derek and I want to have. Just over a year ago, before we lost Brooklyn, I would have said with great confidence that Derek and I definitely want to have three kids. Now I answer this question and others like it much differently. Now I say that we would love to have two more kids, but we will see what happens. Because the reality is, you just never know how life is going to turn out.

While I hope we are blessed with more littles ones, right now I will just enjoy the ones that we have. I will take in every moment we have with Aubrey, and truly savour every single "first" that we experience with her. 

People say that parenting changes you. I'm finding this to be so very true. Both of our girls have changed the person I am for the better. Brooklyn has taught me to appreciate so many things in this life, never take any one for granted, and that I'm not invincible or untouchable by tragedy - no matter how much I plan to avoid these things. Aubrey has taught me to roll with the punches, to have some flexibility in my expectations, to take things one day at a time, and that its okay to admit I don't have all the answers.

My type A personality still peeks its way through sometimes. I had a conversation with Derek today that went something like this. F: "I think my idea of fun and yours are very different." D:"Yeah, your idea of fun is writing up our budget and watching 'My 600-lb life' on TV". He isn't wrong, I actually get a lot of enjoyment out of things like writing up our budget, making lists, and getting things done around the house. But I'm slowly learning to loosen up, and that these things all provide me a false sense of control over things in my life. They're not bad things to do, I just need to remember that it's okay to do things just because they're fun sometimes too.

While I wish my 23rd year of life had looked different, I'm thankful for the lessons it's provided. I look forward to my 24th year, and however many more I am blessed to have on this earth. I hope this year is full of joy, fun, and making the most out of life as it comes our way.

A New Kind of Mother's Day

I recently read the blog post I wrote last Mother's Day - only 5 weeks after we had lost our Brooklyn. That was such a hard day for me. Harder than Easter, harder than Thanksgiving, maybe even harder than Christmas. I can still feel the intensity of my sadness and anger from that day, as if it is ingrained deep in my bones. I remember how badly my arms ached that day to be holding my sweet girl, and the pit in my stomach that remained all day long.

A few people tried to make Mother's Day better for me last year. Derek got me some beautiful gifts and wrote a really nice card on how he loved me even more after becoming a mama. And two other sweet friends got me the Willow Tree mama holding her baby that is still my profile picture for this blog. But on the whole, I felt like I was walking around the whole day and no one was acknowledging my motherhood. No one was acknowledging the fact that I carried that baby girl 39 weeks and 4 days, gave birth to her, dreamed about a future for her, cared for her in my belly, prepared our house for her, and prepared my heart for her arrival. I felt like that most days, but that feeling was especially apparent on Mother's Day.

Skip ahead 364 days to now. Our sweet Aubrey is napping upstairs in her crib, and my aching arms are full. This Mother's Day will certainly be different. But I will still be walking the tight-rope of joy and grief. Joy for the daughter that fills my aching arms and who's sweet smile makes (almost) everything feel okay, and grief for the daughter who won't fill my arms again until we are reunited one day. 

While I was reflecting on this Mother's Day, I remembered the prayer our pastor Matt would recite each other's day. It is written by a lady named Amy Young.

"To those who gave birth this year to their first child—we celebrate with you.

To those who lost a child this year—we mourn with you.

To those who are in the trenches with little ones every day and wear the badge of food stains—we appreciate you.

To those who experienced loss through miscarriage, failed adoptions, or running away—we mourn with you.

To those who walk the hard path of infertility, fraught with pokes, prods, tears, and disappointment—we walk with you. Forgive us when we say foolish things. We don’t mean to make this harder than it is.

To those who are foster moms, mentor moms, and spiritual moms—we need you.

To those who have warm and close relationships with your children—we celebrate with you.

To those who have disappointment, heart ache, and distance with your children—we sit with you.

To those who lost their mothers this year—we grieve with you.

To those who experienced abuse at the hands of your own mother—we acknowledge your experience.

To those who lived through driving tests, medical tests, and the overall testing of motherhood—we are better for having you in our midst.

To those who have aborted children—we remember them and you on this day.

To those who are single and long to be married and mothering your own children—we mourn that life has not turned out the way you longed for it to be.

To those who step-parent—we walk with you on these complex paths.

To those who envisioned lavishing love on grandchildren, yet that dream is not to be—we grieve with you.

To those who will have emptier nests in the upcoming year —we grieve and rejoice with you.

To those who placed children up for adoption—we commend you for your selflessness and remember how you hold that child in your heart.

And to those who are pregnant with new life, both expected and surprising—we anticipate with you.

This Mother’s Day, we walk with you. Mothering is not for the faint of heart and we have real warriors in our midst. We remember you."

Yesterday I received a card in the mail from our good friends Jenna and Bryson. I asked them if I could share it because it was such an encouragement to me.

This Mother's Day, please encourage all of the mothers in your life. Remember that this day is not all "flowers and joy" for every woman. It can be such a hard day if you struggle with losing a child, infertility, the loss of your own mother, or even women who have distance with their own children.  And most of all, please acknowledge these women tomorrow. This card from my friends was so encouraging, but what made it so special was the fact that they acknowledged I am a mother of two, and not just one. No matter what their motherhood looks, acknowledge all of the women in your life who have been mentioned above. 

Strong Women

Recently, my mum posted an article on my Facebook wall about how we as mother's need to stop judging each other, and instead build each other up. The premise is that we are all just trying to be the best mamas, and do the best we can.  This is something that has been on my heart and in my mind for a little while now, after seeing a Similac advertisement that brings humour to the "extremes" of parenting. It shows mamas pushing strollers making fun of mamas wearing carriers, working mamas making fun of stay at home mamas, breastfeeding mamas judging bottle-feeding mamas, etc.  All of the sudden a stroller with a baby in it takes off down a hill, and all the parents run towards the stroller to help. The ad ends by saying "No matter what our beliefs, we are parents first."It really brought to light the solidarity of parents and type of mama community I want to be a part of.

When I got pregnant with Brooklyn, I became obsessed with researching. I researched everything from the safest car seat, the benefits of breast feeding and "baby wearing", and even the development of an infant/toddler's brain. Once I was overloaded with information, I felt I had a pretty good grasp on the best and safest products we needed to buy, and how we would raise and parent our daughter.

While being pregnant with Aubrey and trying to prepare for her arrival felt different than it did with Brooklyn, I still continued to maintain these rigid ideas. I knew I wanted to breast feed. I knew I wanted to wear her in the sling and carrier as much as possible. I knew I wanted to wait a while before giving her a soother. And most of all, I knew I definitely didn't want to co-sleep. A lot of my ideas were very rigid.

After 10 short weeks of parenting, though I am exclusively breastfeeding now, there were two days in the very beginning of Aubrey' s life that my milk wasn't in and I had to supplement with a bit of formula - devastating to someone who wanted to exclusively breastfeed. I wear her in the sling and Ergo alot but I use the stroller much more often than I thought I would. After a very long and sleepless night, when she was just 7 days old, I caved and gave her a soother. And there have been times that I have brought her into bed to snuggle with me - more often than I ever thought I would. I wish my "pregnant with Brooklyn-self" could see me now.

Before parenting, I was totally one of those people who passed judgment without even meaning to on people who chose to parent in ways I could never imagine myself doing. What I'm learning with Aubrey is, sometimes you have to do whatever works in that moment, even if that means going against things you swore you'd never do. This is hard for someone who is stubborn like myself. It's hard to let go of those rigid ideas I had, and just learn to be in the moment as a parent. It's even harder to look back and feel the conviction of being one of those judgmental people that I have encountered in my 10 short weeks of parenting a living child.

Another huge thing that I am slowly learning, is that right now, Aubrey's temperament is not a reflection of my parenting. I have had a hard time with that because she has been a fussy and relatively "high-needs" baby. It's hard being out in public with her, or at a gathering when she is crying. I have often thought "what do they think of me as a mother, I can't even soothe my own baby." After a very close friend reminded me that this is not a reflection of me as a mama, I'm just starting to feel more relaxed, and less guilty. My mum also reminded me tonight that I am a good mama, even when I don't think I am, and that Aubrey loves me very much, no matter how impatient I think I'm being. I'm starting to let go of the idea that her crying is a result of something I am or am not doing, instead, sometimes she just needs a good cry.

I have always wanted to have girls. I joked with Derek before we ever got pregnant that we would only ever have girls, and so far, I've been right. Part of the reason I wanted girls so badly, was so I could raise them to be strong women. Too often I have seen women judge one another, talk about each other, or have such low self-esteem that they feel the need to continue these patterns. I so badly wanted to raise women who would be confident, and build other people around them up instead of tear them down.

If you're a parent who has been parenting even for a little while, encourage a new mama. Make a point of it to tell her she's doing a great job. Invite her over for coffee. See if there's anything she needs. I can't even express how thankful I am to the people who have done these things for me in the past ten weeks.  

Also, encourage mamas who have been doing it for a while. Remind them that  they are also doing a great job. Sometimes doing the same job daily can wear someone down. As great as parenting is, sometimes it is just plain hard. We all need a little encouragement, even more experienced mamas.

Stand beside other mamas (and dads). And let them know they're not alone. They're doing the hardest job in the whole world, and while it comes with its perks, it's also okay to admit that it's just really hard sometimes. Love on them, pray for them, encourage them, and build them up.

I hope to raise Aubrey to be a strong and confident lady. One who is able to be flexible, and not so rigid in her ideas. One who chooses to build other women up around her and empower them to do the same. And I hope with all my heart, that I can be an example to her of someone who also does this.

I hope I can show her that when it comes to parenting, we are all trying to do it the best way we know how. If we remember that, we can work together to encourage and empower one another to raise little people who do the same.

You Are One

Our precious Brooklyn,

April 4th marked one year since we found out we had lost you. The past few weeks I've thought about that moment often. It feels like just yesterday. I will never forget the way I felt laying on that table in the back room of triage, or the way it sounded when I cried out in sorrow when they confirmed that your heart had stopped beating. Those emotions are still so raw and so fresh, and I'm sure that even 50 years down the road, I will still be able to mentally go right back to that place.

I can't believe it has been one full year since you, our beautiful first born baby girl was born. I wonder if you'd be walking by now. Would your dark curly hair still be dark and curly? Would you be talking now? I'm so sad that we're missing out on all of these things and more, my sweet girl.

Mama wishes that she had been able to plan your first birthday party, instead of having to decide what to do on the 5th to celebrate your short life. Daddy, Aubrey, and I wore purple for you that day, and mama made cupcakes with purple icing and mini eggs on top to celebrate you. When I was pregnant with you, mini eggs were my biggest craving. They always make me think of you.

Daddy, Aubrey and I went to visit you that day too. It was a snowy cold day so we couldn't stay very long, but it was so nice to see all the different flowers that people had left you for your birthday. Your Daddy brought you a purple one. As we left, I turned to him and said that sometimes it still doesn't feel real. It feels like a bad dream, and though I'm no longer pregnant, it feels as if we are still waiting for you to arrive.

The past month has been really hard. Not only was I dealing with grieving your loss, your little sister was very fussy. It got to the point where I felt like if she was awake, she was crying. At one point I was seriously concerned about having postpartum depression. But after talking to our midwife, she confirmed that I was overwhelmed and not so much depressed. This is because Mama was able to laugh and feel good when Aubrey wasn't fussy. After trying everything to make her feel better, Mama ended up cutting out dairy and so far it has helped. She still has her fussy moments but not near as many.

During those really fussy weeks, I often thought about how I felt bad for Aubrey. You see my sweet girl, all of my experiences with you were joyful. I never had those frustrating long days when you just wouldn't sleep or felt like a bad Mama because I just couldn't settle you. But with Aubrey, with the love and joy I have for her, also comes frustration at times. Frustration and then regret from being frustrated. Then comes the second and triple guessing of all parenting decisions with her. I always love her - always, but the only emotions you ever experienced me having for you was pure joy. That will always make you so special. She is so very special to us too, but both of you in different ways.

Sometimes when Aubrey sleeps, I will just watch her in amazement. But sometimes I watch her because I'm still nervous we will lose her. I often check to see if her little chest is still rising up and down, and even when she sleeps well at night, Mama sets her alarm every three hours to make sure she is still okay. It still feels crazy to me that she arrived safely and continues to be healthy and alive. Like losing you, it just doesn't feel real.

We love her so very much. I know you would too. I continue to mourn that until we are all together again one day, I will never see you two play together as sisters. I see a lot of you in her. Especially when she sleeps so peacefully. I so wish you were here to teach her things. I know you'd be the best big sister.

I often wonder what Aubs will be like when she grows up. Mama is really interested in birth order and how that determines a person's temperament and personality. With Aubrey, though she is our second child, she is our first living one. I wonder if she will be more like a first born or more like a second born. Maybe she'll be some sort of hybrid :)

I hope you had a great first birthday my love. I know that the celebration you had in Heaven was so much greater than any first birthday party I ever could have planned.

I love you. I miss you. And this Brooklyn-sized hole in my heart still longs for you.

Love always,

Mama xo

A Time to Mourn

"To every thing there is a season,
and a time to every purpose under the heaven:
A time to be born, a time to die;
a time to plant, and a time to pluck up that which is planted;
A time to kill, and a time to heal;
a time to break down, and a time to build up;
A time to weep, and a time to laugh;
a time to mourn, and a time to dance;
A time to cast away stones, and a time to gather stones together;
a time to embrace, and a time to refrain from embracing;
A time to get, and a time to lose;
a time to keep, and a time to cast away;
A time to rend, and a time to sew;
a time to keep silence, and a time to speak;
A time to love, and a time to hate;
A time of war, and a time of peace." - Ecclesiastes 3:1-8

Life has been very busy lately. Caring for a little person who is completely dependent on you is really hard work. Rewarding, but hard. Some days are good and I am able to have a shower, eat all three meals, and maybe even do some dishes and get out of the house. Other days are completely unpredictable, and Aubrey is either eating every 2-3 hours still, or is upset because her stomach is gassy.

I try not to complain about the bad days too much because of the appreciation I have for how much of a miracle Aubrey's life is. But the truth is, sometimes the days just feel really tough.

Aubrey continues to change so much. She's almost gained 2lbs since birth, weighing in at 9lbs 4oz last Thursday, and just yesterday I packed away the majority of her newborn clothes. Her eyes are focused and following toys and people. She recognizes mine and Derek's voices, and turns to us when we talk to her. She has yet to give us a smile that isn't gas related but I'm hoping that happens soon!

We love our little lady so much, and even when the days are hard, I know they are so worth it.

Aubrey and I were able to go and visit Brooklyn the other day - something I haven't been able to do since Aubrey was born. It was such a nice visit (even though my littlest girl slept the entire time), and the weather was beautiful to top it off. Being there with Aubrey made me excited for visits in the future when she understands who Brooklyn is, and even asks to go visit herself.

I've said it so many times before, but now more than ever am understanding that the joy of Aubrey doesn't take away from the grief I have for the loss of Brooklyn. In just under two weeks, it should be Brooklyn's first birthday. I'm finding that my longing for her grows stronger the closer April gets. Of course I always long for her, but there are certain times where it is especially apparent. Recently I have thought a lot about the days leading up to her birth - the pure joy and anticipation we had as we awaited the arrival of our first born. And the contrasting days after her birth of such shock and sorrow.

Sometimes when I look in the back seat of the car to check on Aubrey, I daydream about how life would be if there were two car seats in the back instead of one. I wonder what Brooklyn would have looked like at 5 weeks old. Would she look like Aubrey or would they be completely different? Would her temperament be different than Aubrey's? And then I feel guilty for grieving and not "just being thankful" for Aubrey's safe arrival and health.

But then I remember, it's okay to feel this way. It's okay to love Aubrey and be so very thankful for her arrival, while mourning everything I'm missing out on with Brooklyn. It's okay to laugh one second at the cute little things that Aubrey does, and then cry while holding her in my arms, wishing I was able to do the same with her big sister. It's okay to wish I had both of my girls running errands with me, instead of visiting my biggest girl in a cemetery. All of these things are okay.

Shortly after we lost Brooklyn, someone told me to let myself feel however I'm feeling, and not to feel any guilt. They told me to be gentle with myself. This advice has been very much needed the past 5 weeks. I'm learning to let myself just be. I tend to over analyze my thoughts and feelings often so it has been a bit refreshing to start the process of learning to be gentle with myself. It also makes it hard because learning to be okay with everything I'm feeling means needing to deeply feel every emotion - including the hard ones. The ones I normally like to push to the back of my mind and not think about or address.

Easter Sunday just happens to fall on April 5th this year. It will be our second Easter without our Brooklyn, and I anticipate an emotional day. We are hoping to do something special for her, but still haven't decided just what. I often associate the colour purple with Brooklyn because that's the colour we painted the nursery for her, so Aubrey and I will definitely be wearing purple that day.

As our "seasons" continue to change, God's love remains the same - and for that I have never been so thankful.

Visiting our spring baby with her little sister on the first day of spring.

Two Under One

Yesterday our little Aubrey was 3 weeks old. In some ways, time has been going way too fast, and in others, it feels like she has been a part of our family forever. She fits in so well, and I can hardly remember what life was like without her.

March 5th was our first "5th" having Aubrey around. The 5th is always a hard day for me, and this one was no exception. Everything I did with Aubrey reminded me that I have never and will never have the opportunity to do those things with Brooklyn - whether it was nursing her, rocking her, or changing her diaper. And then I would feel guilty for not "just being grateful" that I am able to do those things with Aubrey. Don't get me wrong - I feel so incredibly blessed for the opportunity to parent Aubrey and to do all of those things with her. Even something as simple as holding her in my arms feels like such a privilege because I so long to do those things with Brooklyn. But I am realizing even more since Aubrey was born, that having her here doesn't take away the longing I have for Brooklyn. My love for both of our girls is so strong, and the presence of Aubrey does not take away from the absence of Brooklyn.

The past three weeks, I have often thought about what life would be like with two babies under one. Brooklyn would have only been 11 months old on March 5th, and I have a feeling life would be very crazy. Of course I know that we likely wouldn't have gotten pregnant with Aubrey so soon if we hadn't lost Brooklyn, but I still daydream about what life would be like if our family wasn't missing one little person.

Even while we still grieve the loss of Brooklyn, Aubrey has brought us so much joy. She is already changing so much, and is much more alert these days. She is following with both of her eyes together, instead of having one that goes the opposite way (really creepy by the way!), and her neck is getting so strong with all of the tummy time we are doing. When she was first born, I didn't think she looked like Brooklyn, except for their eyes, but as she gets bigger, I am seeing more of a resemblance.
Even with all the joy and love we have for Aubrey, parenting a living child is hard. You hear about sleep deprivation and always needing to be available from other parents, but until you're actually in it, it's indescribeable. We are thankful that most nights Aubrey falls right back asleep after she eats, and we are able to sleep until the next feed, but the longest stretch of sleep I've gotten in 3 weeks is 5 hours. So worth it - but still so hard some days.

Derek had two weeks off, and went back to work last Monday. I thought it would be really challenging for me, but so far Aubrey and I have enjoyed our one on one time together. We even managed to get out once a day last week even if it was only an hour each time. Having a winter baby is hard because the weather has been way too cold to have her outside lately. We were so thankful for the beautiful day we had yesterday because we were able to take her out for her first walk! After we lost Brooklyn, one of the things I was so sad I would never experience was carrying her in the many different carriers I had. I had a really hard time walking our dog after we lost her because I had pictured walking with Brooklyn in the carrier many times while pregnant with her. I was so excited to "baby wear". Yesterdays walk was so special because I was finally able to carry one of my babies while out for a walk. Actually, yesterday was full of firsts for her. After church, we managed to go out for lunch with friends and she did so well!

Life is so unpredictable these days, but I wouldn't trade it for the world. Next month on the 5th, Brooklyn would have been 1 year old. It just so happens that it falls on Easter Sunday this year too. We want to do something special to celebrate her, but haven't decided just what to do yet. Either way, I know this day will be really hard for us. However, the day will be made a little more sweet by the presence of our rainbow baby. Our sweet girl who has taught us that good things still happen in the world, and that it's okay to continue having hope and dreaming of better days.

Aubrey on the left at "39 weeks + 3 days" and Brooklyn on the right at the same gestation.

Our first walk! Finally getting to snuggle one of my babies close.

A Thing For 5's

25 days. This is the longest I have ever gone without writing a blog post. But as I sit here with my rainbow baby sleeping on my chest, I think it's fair to say that I have been busy taking in every moment of this precious miracle lately.

It is with great joy that I announce the safe arrival of our second daughter Aubrey Elizabeth. She was born on February 15th (2015) at 5:50am. I was even told that the temperature that day was -25 in Hamilton. I'm not one for over reading into things, but I like to think that this little lady was honouring her big sister who was born on the 5th. She was 7lbs 9oz and 20 inches long! She was only 37 weeks + 5 days gestation, and I have a feeling if she had come at 40 weeks, she would have been 9 or 10lbs!

I called the hospital at 6:30am on February 14th, just as my OB had instructed me to do. Unfortunately the nurse had bad news, and said that there was no room for me to come in as they had many women labouring that night and into the morning and were full. She told me to try to get some sleep, and that the charge nurse would call when they were ready for me. I told Derek to go back to bed and very discouraged, tried to get some more sleep, and eventually got back up at 9am and tried to keep busy by doing the four dishes that were sitting in our sink, and watching a couple episodes of FRIENDS.

My dad called around 10am to see if we wanted to kill some time by going out for breakfast with them. I LOVE going to the Pancake House in Hamilton which is right by the hospital, so we decided to pack all of our things, including the car seat which I ended up being brave enough to put in the car, despite my fear that we would yet again be leaving without a baby inside of it. We arrived at the restaurant, ordered some drinks and at 11:10am received a call from the nurse telling us to come in. "Right now?!" I said with excitement. "Yes, right now" she laughed. We hugged my parents and excitedly made our way next door to the hospital. This is the moment it started to set in for me. I began to feel nervous.

We arrived at the hospital the nurse brought us to our room. She went over what would happen for the induction, and how the monitoring worked. She ensured us that when she wasn't present in the room, she or another nurse would always be watching the monitor from the desk. She made me promise not to obsess over the monitor, and said she would cover it if it helped me. I promised not to obsess, secretly knowing that would be impossible.

Around 11:45am, the nurse started the IV fluids and got the IV in on the first try. When I was having Brooklyn, I had to get them to cover the IV with a fabric sleeve because needles freak me out so much. This time, it still freaked me out but I've gotten so used to being poked and prodded this past year that it didn't seem to bother me as much. At 12:05pm, the oxytocin was started and we began waiting for contractions to start. And around 12:35pm they began. They weren't overly painful at first, but just enough to notice.

At 1:30pm, the nurse came in and started looking at the monitors. We noticed that Aubrey's heart rate had been elevated for some time (around 180bpm - her norm was between 150 and 160), but knew that they were monitoring it closely at the front desk. At 2pm, they decided to stop the induction as they didn't want her to go into distress. The nurse and midwife came in and started talking about the possibility of a C-Section. Before we had Brooklyn, I would have been devastated at even just the thought of a C-Section. But this time was different. I told them I didn't care how she got here, as long as she got here alive. They agreed, and went back out to talk to my OB about next steps. I was getting a little frustrated as it seemed like no one was really doing anything and I didn't want to end up with an emergency Section. At this point I started worrying about worst case scenarios. Knowing that Brooklyn went into distress made me think about her a lot. I desperately wanted the outcome of this labour to be different.

The OB came in around 3pm, and as soon as she entered the room, Aubrey's heart rate had gone back to her norm. She decided to break my water at 3:30pm to see if there was any meconium which would indicate if the baby was in distress. Brooklyn was born with meconium on her, so I desperately hoped this would not be the case. The OB said the risk of C-Section was still too high at this point, and now that Aubrey's heart rate had gone back to normal, there was no reason yet. She did promise me that if it were to become elevated again, she would end up not waiting anymore, and just get her out via C-Section. She also checked my cervix at this point and I was only 2-3cm. I was 2cm on the Thursday before when she checked me in her clinic, so this was a bit discouraging.

They restarted the Oxytocin drugs to see if Aubrey's heart rate would tolerate it now. From that point on, her heart rate was completely normal! We were so thankful, but now even more obsessed with watching the monitors.

By 6pm, the contraction were regular and painful. I started to remember what labour felt like, and felt silly for thinking the contractions I was having at 12:30pm were strong. Between 7 and 9pm, the contractions were increasingly stronger and were coming really quickly - one on top of the other. We had loved our day nurse and were disappointed that I hadn't delivered on her shift. However, we were so excited to find out that our night nurse was the nurse who helped me deliver Brooklyn. We loved her, and were so happy she may have the opportunity to be present for a delivery with a different outcome for us.

At 9pm the nurse told me that the anesthesiologist was going in the OR around 9:30pm and wouldn't be able to give me the epidural until an hour after that. At this point I knew I wanted the epidural, but I wanted to see if I could wait a bit. The contractions were so painful but part of me was hoping I would begin dilating really fast and wouldn't end up needing it. When the nurse checked and I was only 5cm, I knew this wouldn't be the case and asked her for the epidural.

Derek and I tried to get some rest from 10-11:30pm, and the OB came in to check me again at 11:30pm. I was only 6cm, but my cervix was fully thinned which was good news. Still, I knew this baby would no longer be a Valentine's Day baby. She was stubborn like her Mama, and wanted to come into the world on her own day - not one she had to share. We tried to sleep again from 12-2am and I was checked again at 2. I was still only dilated 6cm, but the baby's head had moved lower into the birth canal. Again, we tried our best to sleep. I was pretty exhausted at this point. One of the side effects of the epidural is feeling overwhelmingly itchy. I completely forgot that I had this when I got my epidural with Brooklyn, but was quickly reminded when the same symptoms started. When I say itchy, I don't just mean a small itch, I mean an overwhelming itch that just wouldn't go away. This made it hard to rest.

At 5am, the nurse came in and said the contractions on the monitor started to look like they do when people are fully dilated. She checked my cervix, and I was completely discouraged to find out that I was only 7cm. I had only dilated 1cm between 11:30pm and 5am. At this point I didn't think I would be delivering this baby on our night nurse's shift either. She checked my vitals, replaced my bag of IV fluids, and as soon as she left, I started feeling an overwhelming amount of pressure. I pressed my call button, and texted our moms who were in the waiting room fast asleep. I started to feel a bit panicky, but still thought I would have lots of time as she had just checked me and I was only 7cm. At this point, I sent Derek out to get our moms because I honestly thought they were going to miss the birth.

When the nurse came in, she checked me and was surprised to see that I had dilated all the way to 10cm in the time she left the room, and Aubrey's head was extremely low in the birth canal. She called the midwife who had gone home, and paged the OB to come in. Usually the nurses make you push for a little bit before calling the OB in, but the nurse remembered how quickly I delivered Brooklyn, and knew that this baby was coming fast. Before I knew it, our moms rushed in, the OB rushed in, and the nurse had me pushing. I was feeling so much pressure - way more than I had felt with Brooklyn. I later found out that this is because Aubrey was pushing herself down. I never had this feeling with Brooklyn because I was pushing her out on my own without any help from her. With Brooklyn I felt a bit more relaxed too. This time, I didn't feel very nice. I felt agitated, and remember things like telling my Mum to stop talking as she was trying to encourage me to push, and telling Derek to push my leg back harder. Earlier in the day, Derek had told the nurse he didn't want to watch the baby coming out, and wasn't even sure he would cut the cord. But at this point, he didn't have a choice because he was acting as a stirrup for me. He later told me that it "wasn't as bad" as he thought it would be, and was actually kind of neat to watch.

The OB told me that with one more push Aubrey's head would be out, and the "ring of fire" sensation that I remember was much more intense this time around. The nurse encouraged me to push through the burning and pressure instead of stopping, and that soon our baby would be born. I listened to her, and felt so relieved as Aubrey's head was delivered. The OB said that I needed one more little push to get out her shoulders, and just like that, our sweet Aubrey was brought into the world at 5:50am after 20 minutes of pushing. She sure did take her time in labour, but once she decided she was coming, she came fast. I must say - she was well worth the wait!

Normally they would put her right up on my chest, but her cord ended up being quite short, and wasn't long enough for this to happen. As they suctioned her, she was on the end of the bed, which was a scary few seconds for me as I couldn't even see her. The midwife (who ended up making it at the very last second) told me to look down and see my baby. They placed her on my tummy and delayed her cord clamping by a minute. She didn't scream like I had expected, but made lots of cute little squeaking noises. I cried as I held our living baby in my arms - something I wasn't sure I would ever do. And Derek even ended up cutting her cord!

There are so many more details about this day I want to include, and more updates about the last 10 days I want to write about, but my sweet baby now needs to eat and I will gladly and so thankfully go feed her. Something that I consider a privilege, not a burden. Thank you for your love, prayers and encouragement that have gotten us to this point. Our hearts are overwhelmed with love for this precious gift, but still missing another.

Two Weeks

It's hard to believe that our scheduled induction date is two weeks today. This pregnancy has gone by much faster than my pregnancy with Brooklyn - right until January hit. I feel like the days have been very long lately, and time is moving so slowly. The problem isn't that I'm not keeping busy. I have so many appointments every week, and have been going to the hospital to visit my Dad as much as I can. I have definitely been busy, but the anticipation is building and it makes time go slowly.

This month has been full of so many emotions - excitement, anxiety, anticipation, and even sadness, just to name a few. I often think about what life would be like with an almost 10 month old baby. Would she be crawling and pulling herself up by now? What would her little personality be like? Would she be a good sleeper or still be waking up through the night? I miss her so much and I'm starting to get nervous for if/how my feelings and time I will be able to put into my relationship with her will change once this baby arrives. I know this is a very normal feeling for anyone who is having a second child, but when you've lost a child, the feelings are compounded. I fear that if this baby girl lives and we are able to take her home and parent her, that my love for her will soon become greater than my love for Brooklyn - simply because she is physically present and able to be in relationship with me.

I think of Brooklyn's labour and delivery often, and am anxious to get over this very large challenge with baby A. I continue to be reassured that I will be on the monitors from the start of my induction to the very end, and that if anything happens, they will get her out quickly, but still my mind goes to the "what ifs." I know there are never guarantees in medicine (or in life for that matter), and while I'm hopeful for baby A's safe arrival, I don't think I'll fully believe it until she is safe in my arms. Even then, I'm sure it will feel surreal for a little while.

When Brooklyn was born, I remember how silent the delivery room was. Where the room should have been full of the sound of a baby's first cry, it was just silent. They took her away to the warmer right after I delivered her, and I remember how relieved I felt as I looked over at my baby girl. The delivery was over, but what I didn't realize at the time was that it would actually be the easy part. This time around, I'm really hopeful that this baby girl will come out screaming. I can't wait for her to be placed on my chest, and to feel her warm body against mine. But most of all, I can't wait to see which of her features are like her big sisters, and which will be her very own.

Of course I am anxious about the labour and delivery, but I'm even more nervous for all of the emotions that will come afterwards. I know that parenting after losing a child is no easy task. While I will be so grateful for her safe arrival and the opportunity to parent a living a child, I know it will come with a new set of challenges. I've already started praying that God will prepare my heart for these new emotions.

Baby A keeps doing well and growing big inside of me. She continues to get 8/8 on her biophysical profiles (special ultrasounds), and 2/2 on her non-stress tests. Our little girl is so smart already! She is above the 90th percentile for her gestation, and the OB thinks that even with her early arrival, she will be over 7lbs.

I have just started to pack our bags, and packing baby A's bag has brought up a lot of emotions. It hasn't even been a year since I packed the very same diaper bag for Brooklyn. I just so hope this time our baby will actually get to use the things I'm so carefully picking out for her.

We can't wait to meet her, and are really hoping the next 14 days go by quickly, and with no complications.

Diapers, Detergent, and Reckless Hope

With only 5 weeks left (35 days) until the expected arrival of this little one, I am in full nesting mode. I have been organizing, cleaning, and preparing our home like crazy. I definitely nested with Brooklyn, but I don't remember it happening this early. My body, brain, and hormones continue to amaze me. It's almost as if they have completely taken over and my sole mission these days is to ensure our home is prepared for our baby girl.

Part of preparing has meant going through our baby items, clothes, diapers, wipes, toiletries, etc. to see what we still need to purchase.

Last night Derek and I made a trip to Wal Mart to pick some things we needed for the house. We stopped in the baby section, looked to see if there were any sales, and noticed that diapers were marked down. Before we had Brooklyn, we only bought a very small pack of newborn sized diapers because we weren't sure how big she would be. With this little lady coming almost 3 weeks early, chances are she will fit into newborn diapers for at least a couple of weeks.

We also headed to the grocery section and picked up a bottle of baby laundry detergent because I have a couple of new outfits that need to be washed before she is here.

As we were standing in the check out line, I started to feel anxious and said to Derek "should we just wait to get the diapers? we have 20 newborn diapers at home that we can use, and we can go out and get more if we need them." "They're on sale now and we will need them" he said.

To most parents awaiting the arrival of a new baby, buying newborn diapers and laundry detergent are simply a few ways of preparing. But for me, it feels so reckless when there is no absolute guarantee that she will be coming home with us.

When we got home and started to put things away, I held the receipt in my hand for quite a while. I thought to myself "maybe I'll just hang on to this and we can return them if we have to." But then I decided to throw it out.

You see, the more time that passes, and the closer we get to meeting baby A, the more hope I have for her life. Even though I have intentionally tried to guard my heart and disconnect as much as possible, I am head over heels in love with this little girl. This reckless hope is worth it to me. Of course I am hopeful that she will come to us alive and well, but I am very aware that whether with us, or any other expecting couple, there is always a possibility this won't happen. After we lost Brooklyn and were talking about when to try again for another baby, Derek reminded me that guarding my heart won't make it hurt any less if we are to lose the next baby too. This has stuck with me - he is absolutely right.

Although this hope will always be guarded until she is safe in my arms, I would much rather be recklessly hopeful for baby A and do things to prepare for her arrival, than already assuming that she won't make it.

The other night, I had the first dream about our girl that I've had since the first trimester. In this dream, she was alive and well, and looked just like I had imagined. She had light brown hair that was curly like her big sisters, and was a tiny 6lb baby. I was feeding her, and she snuggled perfectly into my body; almost as if it was made to hold her. I woke up and felt so at peace.

Our appointments continue to go well, and two weeks ago, she was measuring 3.5lbs. She has been head down since 24 weeks, and continues to remain in this position. One less thing to worry about! Her feet are in the same spot Brooklyn's were in, and I often think of the times I would sit feeling Brooklyn's heels in my side. I miss that little girl so much these days.

I am trying to enjoy every moment in this pregnancy, but part of me also wants to fast forward 5 weeks from now so she can just be here safe.

Please continue to be recklessly hopeful with us.