Capture Your Grief: Days 9-15 in 2013

9. Music: This might be hard to capture in a photograph so why not post a youtube clip of a piece of music that reminds your of your baby/ies/child/ren. Why this piece of music?


  
Music just hasn't played a role in my grief.  Odd since music used to sing my life, but it hasn't with this.

10. Beliefs: Do you have a certain belief about what happens to us after we die? You might believe that we go to a heaven or you might believe that our bodies eventually turn to dust and that is the end of our story. Please feel free to share your beliefs whether they are religious, spiritual or not.



I think this is summed up well in the image I've shared several times of Taylor and the quote on the graphic...:

I believe whole heartedly that I will get to raise my children in the Millennium, doing what brings me both the most frustration as well as the most joy - being a mother.  This is an incredible opportunity to me and I look forward to it more than perhaps anything else. 


11. Emotional Triggers: What triggers emotions associated with grief for you? Is it the weather? A scent? Photos? Places? Holidays? Words? Certain people?


Birthdays, due dates, Christmas...
Taylor was due on her aunt's birthday but was born on her grandmother's birthday.
Seth was due just days after Christmas but was born on his uncle's birthday.

When we go to take family pictures and they aren't there, when we have to substitute our Molly Bears in place of our angel children, I remember them and it's a big trigger for me.

With another annual family picture coming up soon, I'm planning to crochet outfits for our bears again so our angels can be properly represented in our family picture.  This is a trigger for me.



12. Article: Have you read an article about grief that you would love to share with everyone? Please feel welcome to share who wrote the article and how the article resonated with you and also the direct link to the article if it is online.


If I think of anything in particular, I'll come back and edit this.  For now, all that is on my mind is that same quote by Joseph Smith that I posted above on day 10.  

13. Book: Have you read a book about grief that helped you immensely in your journey of grief? Please feel welcome to share the book and links to where it can be purchased so others can find it.



I read two books about grief.  However, I should probably re-read them as it was while I was still fairly deep in my own grief and I really don't remember much.  Again, I may update this later.

14. Family: What does you family look like now? Is it just yourself carrying your child’s heart in yours? Do you have other children? A partner? A pet? You may not have what society perceives as a family but we all know that just because you cannot see any children, that does not mean that they are not a part of your family.

This is my family now - my 3 living children, clinging to their angel siblings represented by bears, huddled around a gravestone to celebrate a birthday that didn't come with chubby cheeks and discussion about walking and talking and all the milestones met over the past year.  We'll be adding another baby to our family, hopefully next month, and hopefully without the need to get another bear.  My husband and I love all 6 of our children and are so very excited to see the beautiful, happy face of our newest addition soon.  I haven't had to consider talking to this new baby about her angel siblings because they're always remembered in our home.



15. Wave Of Light: Today is October 15th Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Light a candle at 7pm to help create a continuous wave of light around the world for 24 hours. Photograph your light! Please remember to share your location for this day as well. Wishing you all a ton of love for this sacred day of remembrance.

Today, I want to remember the angels that I've come to hold close to my heart, as well as my own.  And so I speak their names (in no particular order):

Grant Abernathy
Miracle Abernathy
Lily Robbins
ElizabethVawdrey
Cordelia Casper
Luke Wood
Ayla Schneider
Autumn Phillips
Melena Harvey
Addison Johnson
Bryce Carter
Isaac Palmer
Porter Palmer
Jerom Shaver
Jocelyn Files
Liam Allred
Malachi Allred
Allison Mattes
Breckin Law
Brighton Law
Avery Friend
Caden Tozier
Clark Deneca
Little Fella Allen
Hope Lewis
Jude Hastings
Willow Hastings
Oliva Kunz
Skylar Fitzgerald
Harlee Fitzgerald
Matthew Fitzgerald
Vincent Valenzuela

And also Taylor Harvey & Seth Harvey.  So many angels.  So many grieving hearts yearning to hold their babies.  Many hugs and much love to the families of each of these babies who never came home from the hospital, who were born too soon, who were gone before they were even born.  So much love to each of you. There are so many more to add to this list, unnamed babies, babies not talked about, (and a few that I missed just because the list is so long) and this is just within my circle of extended friends.  Forgive me if I missed your angel.  PLEASE, write out your angel's name in the comments here.  I want to remember your angels.  All of them. 

Love to you all....

Capture Your Grief: Day 6 of 2013

Day 6. Ritual: Do you have any rituals to help get you through the day? Maybe it is a daily affirmation or prayer. It could be that you light a candle or recite a mantra etc. Do you do anything meaningful on special dates for your baby?

Nope.  No rituals.  No daily affirmations.  No prayers that are specific to my losses.  I only light candles on rare occasions like birthdays and Oct. 15th.  No mantras.

On birthdays, we do cupcakes and flowers.  Now that the gravestone is set, we visit the grave for birthdays, too.  Since Taylor didn't get her own, her name is on Seth's gravestone, too.

The above 3 were Taylor's first birthday.  Chocolate cupcakes because every girl needs chocolate, and roses because she's a beautiful princess!

The below 3 were Seth's first birthday.  They actually had dragonfly cupcakes!!  And he got flowers, too because I had been eying those flowers for him for months because they reminded me of him.

Capture Your Grief: Day 5 of 2013

Day 5. Memory: What memory do you have of your child that stands out for you the most. It may be a positive or negative memory. When you think of your child what is the first memory that comes to your mind?

Two big memories of Taylor - first, sitting in a parking lot getting a text from my very dear friend, Ashley, who gave me the quote on this red image above.  This quote helped me SO much through both of my losses.  She said she felt like it was what she was supposed to say, though she had no idea what to say herself.  She was inspired to share this with me, because my Heavenly Father loves me and knew it was exactly what I needed.

Next was her birth and how absolutely horrified I was when I realized that my baby's body was flushed down a toilet.  I'm still ready to cry my eyes out just thinking of it - both because of how it makes me feel now as well as because of remembering my feelings then.  The pain of not seeing her is nearly more than I can handle.  I try hard to push those feelings aside and focus on that quote above. 

With Seth, obviously a huge memory was finding out he was a boy instead of a girl like the ultrasound tech said!  I studied him for a long time.  His muscular legs.  His open eyes.  His adorable nose.  His shoulders.  His knees.  His bone structure.  His facial expression.  Isn't he just beautiful?  He died at 16 weeks gestation.  That's still a legal age for abortion.  Can you even imagine that some people kill a baby that is this perfectly formed?  Look at him.  No, really look at him.  That little body may only be 6" long, but how incredible! 

Of course it makes sense that this would be such a tremendous memory for me, considering what I just told you about Taylor.  I didn't get to see her body, so his meant the world to me. 

Capture Your Grief: Day 2 of 2013

Day 2. Identity:
What is your child’s name? Why did you chose that name? What is the meaning of their name? If they were born, what were their birth details. What were their features? Who are they?

TAYLOR

We chose this name because she died at 13w1d and was born at 14w1d - we never got to see her tiny body and it was too soon for ultrasound to show a gender.  We HIGHLY believe Taylor was a girl, but just in case, we didn't want to offend our little one, so we chose an androgynous name.  I went through the book "The Baby Name Wizard" and found a list of androgynous names.  I highlighted the ones that I liked best (Aubrey, Billie, Drew, Jody, Joey, Micah, Quinn, Reese, Robin, Taylor) and let Ben choose from that list.  He chose Taylor, which I was pleased with.  To read about her birth details, go HERE. 

Since then, I've found that her purpose was to introduce me to the community of loss mothers.  Being in the loss community already helped me with what was coming next.

SETH MICAH

As described HERE, we found out that we lost this sweet baby when I went in for my gender-reveal ultrasound at 19 weeks.  They were so positive that we were having a girl that the tech colored the gender-shot screen pink.  We chose the name Isabelle with no middle name, just as our little Taylor girl has no middle name.  Then I delivered my baby and found out that he was ALL BOY!  I pulled out my phone to look up my name list I had sent to my sister and read off all the boy names.  Ben said Seth was the only one that really stood out to him.  From there, we decided it sounded short and he needed a middle name, so I chose Micah to go with it (another name from our list). 

Seth means "Annointed."  Micah means "Who Is Like God?" (never understood why this is followed by a question mark).  However, both names are scriptural, biblical.  Seth was the perfect son of Adam (See D&C 107:43 or look up Seth in the Bible Dictionary) and Micah was a prophet (see HERE for more about Micah).  In our religion, The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints, we believe that children are without sin, they are not accountable for their actions until they reach the age of accountability (age 8, unless other mental handicaps are present).  This means that our tiny son died while still perfect in the sight of our Heavenly Father.  Although he lived in my womb, he was never subjected to the sins of this world, he never sinned, he was in fact quite perfect.  So the name Seth has ended up being quite perfect for our little boy. 

For his birth details, read HERE. 
As for his features - he was a mere 6" long and 3oz.  He was slender yet very muscular as he wasn't old enough to have gained any real baby fat yet.  His eyes were open (which they say doesn't happen for another few weeks after he had died).  He had some swelling on the back of his head from being gone for so long before his birth (remember, he died at 16weeks and was born at 19w4d) but his hat covered it so we could enjoy everything else without being afraid.  He had a cute little nose and chin.  To me, he was absolutely beautiful.  

Now, like I was saying, Taylor's loss had me enter the community of loss mothers.  That enabled me to know about NILMDTS and get the pictures of Seth that I treasure more than I can describe.  While we anticipated Isabelle's arrival, I had picked out some outfits hoping one would fit our little girl, and it gave me comfort to know she'd be dressed like any other baby.  Then, we had a boy.  I was sad that the clothes were no longer appropriate for our baby.  All the pictures of him are of a little naked baby, sometimes wrapped in a blanket.  Since then, I've learned to crochet to make angel clothing and sewn more angel clothing and all of it has been donated out to photographers and hospitals, hoping others will be able to dress their babies.  Of course I have a special place in my heart for the tiniest outfits, the ones that would have fit my little Seth.  Those are my favorites to make because they mean so much more to me.  

I lost my babies because there is a need in this world, a need to comfort grieving parents, to extend a hand of love to show grieving parents that they're not alone.  Making angel clothing is how I go about accomplishing the task I have been called to do.  I will likely always do it.  I hated that my baby was naked and cold.  We were so sure we were having a girl, though.  Who would have thought to bring boy clothes "just in case?"  I don't blame anyone.  It just makes me sad.  After everyone had left, before I gave Seth to the nurses so the funeral home could take him away, I had the nurses bring me a full-term baby hat to wrap him in, to keep his toes warm, to act like a sleeping bag because I hated him being so cold.  Yes, I know he couldn't feel the cold, but it made me feel better to have him warmly wrapped.  Hopefully, my efforts will help so that other parents don't have to use full-term items to wrap their tiny ones in.

So that's how I perceive their identities.  They introduced me to the loss community and to the needs of those who have lost.  The work I do is in remembrance of my sweet angels, and hopefully it brings comfort, even the tiniest bit, to other grieving parents.

10 weeks and Supply Drive

First, I want to share with you a donation opportunity:

If anyone is interested in participating, I will be going up to make a donation sometime the week of May 6-11.  Right now, I've got 17 gown/diaper sets being sewn (thanks to some helpers because my machine in JACKED!) and 8 crocheted sets already made.  I am really hoping to get plenty more made before this Supply Drive because they are in such dire need of help!  While the local angel closet in Salt Lake County seems pretty well stocked for now, Weber/Davis County is still in need.  After spending the last several months making outfits out of my own pocket, I can tell you that the costs add up quickly.  Even sale flannel gets expensive when you're buying several yards at a time.  Plus $3-$6 for every skein of yarn.  Plus buttons.  Plus ribbon.  It just adds up.  And we REALLY want to be able to keep up this work as there is a HUGE need! 

Imagine for a minute going to the hospital to deliver your baby, then going home empty handed.  Imagine trying to get a few pictures of your child, like proof that s/he really did exist since no one will ever see him/her, but your baby is too small for even a preemie onesie or diaper. We make gowns because even babies that aren't alive, a mother still wants to dress warmly.  We make two diapers per gown, one for baby to wear and the other for mom to take home in memory of her angel.  Several NILMDTS photographers have said that they have observed a mother of an angel dressing her baby bring a small sense of peace to their situation.  I'm sure I've said it before, but when I picked out the clothing for the baby that we anticipated naming Isabelle, it gave me peace to know that my child would be warm and dressed.  It calmed my busy mind, if only a little.  Then, when Isabelle turned out to be Seth, I was sad that he only had a hat to fit him.  I ended up asking a nurse to bring in a regular newborn hat to wrap him in to "keep him warm" and give me the sense of him being dressed because my little naked baby with only a blanket around him seemed wrong.  It wasn't until after the pictures were done and I let the nurses take him away for good that a nurse brought me diapers for him.  I wish he could have worn one.

So, you see, this clothing is IMPORTANT.  And although it may seem that I'm the only person who ever talks about their loss, it happens ALL THE TIME!  One weekend, my photographer said there were 15 angels born, followed the next week by 1-3 more angels every other day.  20+ angels in ONE week just in HER area.  Please, consider making a donation.

If you're near me, please bring over any appropriate flannel, soft yarn, white thread, ribbon, ziploc bags, or gift cards to any of the 4 stores listed, or let me know if you'd like to trace patterns, cut fabric, sew gowns or diapers (both are fairly easy patterns)...  Or maybe if you've got time to crochet or knit some outfits, I've got patterns for that, too!  Please, PLEASE, help me fill this angel closet!  The need is there.  And what a way to extend some love, peace, and comfort to a mother who just lost her child - something we all hope never happens to us.

Oh!  I almost forgot! 
I'm 10 weeks along now, and thanks to a very dear friend who loaned me her home doppler, I have been able to find a heartbeat every time I've been worried!  I first heard it around 9 1/2 weeks, and today at 10 1/2 weeks I heard it again!!  The doppler claims it's around a 160-170 heartrate and I just love hearing it!  Hopefully I'll be able to hear it every week!!  (Photos are of MY TANGIBLE PEACE's gestational ooak dolls, made developmentally accurate)

 In both pictures, my baby's development is the one in the middle.  My little Picard/Vash is around the size of

To give some size prospective, these BabyCenter pictures should help:

That's a 10 week size of a kumquat (yeah, what is that?), 11 week size of a fig, and 12 week size of a lime.  12 weeks, that's my next goal.  Not that anything I do helps me achieve this goal, but setting small goals is better than freaking out that I have 30 weeks to go.  Instead, I have 2 weeks to go to make it to my next goal.  I can do it!

GROW, BABY, GROW!

Taylor & Seth continued....

Seth's due date is in 8 days.  Taylor's first angel-birthday is 4 weeks after that.  We're still working on getting their gravestone set.

There are a lot of confusing emotions that go around all of this with Taylor and Seth.  If Taylor hadn't died, I wouldn't know Seth.  I would have a 5 month old little girl instead.  If Seth hadn't died, I wouldn't know that there was a need for angel baby clothing, Taylor would be alone, but I would be very large and complaining joyfully about swollen ankles while washing all of the baby boy clothes leftover from Keith and Mitchell that hasn't been worn in nearly 4 years.

I wish I had them both, but I'm glad they're together.  I wish I had them both, but I think I've become a less selfish person because of their brief lives.  I wish I could hold them both, watch them smile, listen to them coo and laugh... but I understand that they are where they are most needed (they've got missionary work to do, after all) and because of them I have a work to do here.

Ben and I have talked, and several have asked about this conversation:  what about more kids?

Well, who knows when it will ever happen.  It doesn't matter if it's this month or 6 months, or a year from now, I will have the same emotions to go through.  After losing two in a row (both second trimester) and now being familiar with so many people's stories where they've lost anywhere from 4 weeks as they find out they're pregnant to their full term baby to a baby a few days or weeks or even months old (SIDS), I will have the same fears of losing my baby.  I am no longer naive believing it won't happen to me.  It has happened.  Twice.  Just as all those parents in Connecticut will now have children in caskets with gravestones as they miss amazing milestones in their lives, I have two of those.   In a few months, the outrage will die down and everyone, such as their friends and neighbors, will go back to their daily lives as if nothing ever happened.  That's when those parents are going to feel another wave of grief.  I know, I know... "it's not the same thing" for me as it is for them.  But I know enough about losing a child that I know what to expect for them.  I may not know what my babies' favorite colors are or what their laugh sounds like, but neither I nor those parents will get to see our angel children graduate high school, get married, have kids, etc.  Both I and those parents will always treasure the items that they touched, like blankets and outfits.

Anyway, being pregnant again will have the same emotions, no matter when it happens.  It'll all be wrapped around:  will I get to keep my child?

However, until then, I am glad I was able to carry my two angels letting them know and feel love every day of their brief lives.  I'm glad they were/are MY children.  I'm so glad to be their mommy, even if from such an incredible distance.  I hope I can continue to honor them and their memories always.  And I hope to be able to bring comfort to others as I go about honoring my angels.

Capture Your Grief - Day 23: Their Name/Their Photo

Day 23: Their Name/Their Photo

I very much DO feel comfortable sharing my babies' photos.  I know that not everyone is comfortable seeing them, though.  So, proceed with caution.

First up is my baby girl, Taylor.  Remember, I never got to see her.  We aren't even positive Taylor was a girl, hence the androgynous name, but I strongly feel like Taylor was a girl.  This is my angel girl...

See how she's in a praying position, kneeling with her hands clasped?  What a righteous little spirit she is!  I love her so very much!  I wish so much I had seen her, but this is second best - an ultrasound photo just 3 days after she died that shows her kneeling in prayer.  It tugs at my heart strings a LOT.

As for Seth, I've shared pictures of him, kind of.  They're all wrapped in a blanket or of his feet or hand, but I've never posted his face here.  Today, that changes.  Remember, he died at 16 weeks gestation and wasn't born until 19w4d gestation, nearly a whole 4 weeks later.  So please be kind as you view him, if you choose to do so.  I think he's a handsome boy.  I try to imagine him fattened up like a full term bouncing baby boy.  Here, he's all muscle, no fat and incredibly tiny.  He was 6" long and only 3 ounces (though he would have been closer to 9 ounces if he had been born closer to when he died).  Proceed with caution and kindness...

His eyes were open when he was born, though some pictures were edited to have them closed as I know it freaks people out a bit to see them open.  I'm sharing color pictures, not black & white because I think he's beautiful like this.  See the polka dots?  This is why light blue, and to a lesser degree navy and red, are what I associate with him.  So tiny, so perfect, so handsome.  My Seth!

These are my children that don't live with me.  These are my children "with wings."  These are my children that I only get to cuddle teddy bears to represent.  These are MY CHILDREN.  Don't you just love them, too?  Oh, they are so precious and wonderful!

Grave Stone

Just ordered Seth's gravestone. The cemetery has regulations for stones in the infant section of the cemetery. It's a tiny 8x16 and online, the stone only was $189.  Setting the stone will be around another $200, plus another $150 for the vase to be set into the cement border (required by the cemetery, the cement is, not the vase, but I want the vase), plus the city charges $100 when you set the stone.  Just under $650 for the whole thing compared to some local companies that charge more than that just for the stone itself!  Really, we only saved about $200 going the online route, but anyway...

As you know, Ben and I had two Star Trek names picked out to use for the baby, once we found out the gender, until settling on a real name at birth. As we went in that day for the ultrasound at 19 weeks, we were going to find out if we were going to be calling our baby Worf (boy) or Sito Jaxa (girl) for the next 20 weeks until s/he was born. Instead, we found out our baby had died. The u/s tech was sure it was a girl, but at birth we found out our little one was a boy. We had wanted to put the Star Trek emblem on the stone, but despite several emails and being guided and directed to different people in different departments, I never heard back from the final person. So I ordered the stone today without the emblem. I'm kinda sad about that as it was going to be our little happy moment when visiting his grave. Instead, we got a teddy bear graphic, foot prints hopefully sized to his feet (2cm heel to toe, not HIS footprints, but the right SIZE anyway), and a heart corner-piece with a stemmed rose.

I wish we could have gotten that emblem on the stone.  But we didn't want to wait a long time before getting the stone set.  I want his grave marked properly.  Right now, I have pictures of who is buried around him so I don't lose his unmarked spot.  :( 

What a bittersweet day.  I'm happy to have it ordered, but it really sucks having to buy your son's grave marker.

 

Here is a preview of the stone:

 

 

Questions concerning Miscarriage

One of the amazing women in one of my online loss support groups posted a link talking about her 5 (yes, FIVE) miscarriages.  She's compiling stories of miscarriages for a book and had some questions at the end of her post for anyone who felt up to contributing.  If anything, I want to be able to help others after my experiences, so I'm going to post my answers here.

Suzanne asked -
In your experiences with miscarriage:
What happened? How did you feel? How did you grieve? How did those around you feel and grieve? How did your experiences affect you spiritually? What was your greatest challenge with miscarriage? What, if any, was your greatest gift or life lesson?

Let's go through them.

What happened?
Rather than type it all out again, I'll just direct you to my posts about what happened.
Taylor - Background Post
Taylor - Birth
Seth - Background Post
Seth - Birth
Seth - After Birth

How did you feel?
I had lost one very early between Keith and Mitchell, back in February 2007.  Around 5-6 weeks, I started bleeding and knew something was wrong.  I finally got someone to listen to me and do an ultrasound at 7 weeks.  They said my 5 week fetus was just fine.  Except I was 7 weeks.  They insisted my dates were wrong.  A few days later, I passed a little gray "blob" that was my baby.  I had never really felt like a spirit was connected to this body, so I was sad at the missed chance at parenthood but was overall fine.  It was in the ensuing 15 months to finally conceive again that I had emotional issues.  I felt like I must have been such a horrible mother to Keith that I wasn't going to be trusted with another of Heavenly Father's children.  It hurt.  But finally, with some help, I had Mitchell and then Kiersten.

I was so thrilled to be pregnant again in November 2011!  I hadn't started taking supplements to help me get pregnant yet, so it was a bit of a surprise!  People called me crazy for spacing my kids only 18 months apart.  And I was nervous about a summer delivery (I'd previously had Keith in February, lost in February, had Mitchell in February, and Kiersten in January - love my winter babies!).  Then, to lose her, and not see her tiny body...  I was crushed.  I hurt.  I felt like a terrible mother for not finding her body in the toilet before flushing.  I was drained.  I cried a lot.  But I received comfort quickly and it helped a lot.  I looked to the positive.  I had a child waiting for me, a perfect child, and I would get to be a mother during the Millennium, and that was amazing!  So I focused on the good and continued on, remembering and loving, but not being overwhelmed.

Then came Seth.  He was a first-try baby, just as my early loss between the boys had been.  With that tidbit plus being so soon after Taylor, I was nervous.  VERY nervous.  But even when pregnant with Taylor, I envisioned that this new pregnancy would be a boy.  So, I had hope.  I was fearful as I came up on 5 months since Taylor was born at the same time as I hit my mark in my new pregnancy when Taylor had died.  I had a quick-peak ultrasound in between my monthly prenatals just to make sure all was well.  When it was, and it was still well at my regularly scheduled appointment, I decided I needed to not be the crazy lady who was constantly fearful and asking for quick-peaks to make sure all was still going well.  After that 15 week appointment, I wanted to check in again so many times, but I was trying so hard not to be obnoxiously scared.  So I waited it out until that 19 week ultrasound when I found out that Seth had died at 16 weeks.

I should have gone in sooner.  I should have listened to my instincts.  As I was thinking all week how, if Seth had no heartbeat I would not be going on our weekend trip to see family, I should have realized that those thoughts were not mine, but inspired thoughts.  When I went in for the ultrasound, she checked the cervix and such first, then went toward the baby and I asked if there was a heartbeat.  She was shocked, especially as there wasn't one.  I held it together well, though I asked Ben to take the kids out of the room.  They were still excitedly asking for a gender and I could tell it was upsetting the ultrasound tech.  I was surprised at myself for breaking down against the wall of the clinic.  I was both surprised AND not at all surprised.  I had envisioned my baby boy for MONTHS but I had also felt like he wasn't going to live.  I didn't ever actually THINK "why did you do this to me twice in a row and so quickly" but the feeling was underlying.  I've never been angry with my Heavenly Father.  In fact, I continue to pray asking that He lead me to what is best (as opposed to good or better, I want best) and I don't question if this is part of leading me to that "best" because I know it is.  But my arms sometimes literally ache for my babies.  I'm comforted that Taylor and Seth are together, or I at least assume they are.  I'm just very sad that I don't have them both with me.

I still hurt that I never got to see Taylor.  And that neither baby is in my home or my belly.  But, I'm mostly okay.  Life continues on for the rest of us, I'm just sad that I can't get to know my children right now.  I know it's selfish because they are in a much better place than this crazy world, but that doesn't make me miss them less.  I'm not a horrible mother, despite the days that I feel I might be.  All of my children know I love them.  I just have this lingering aching pain/hurt.  It's something that I don't anticipate will ever go away.  And I don't want it to because the lack of the lingering pain would mean I'm not remembering my children.  Anytime love is taken away, pain lingers.  A love that's as pure as a mother's love for her children lingers longer than I think any love/pain could.  I don't think it matters how old your child is, you still miss your children every single day.  You miss what they could have been, you miss what they were, you just miss them.  Age and accomplishments have nothing to do with it.

How did you grieve?
Mostly, I grieve through pictures.  I take the few images I have (whether Taylor's ultrasounds or Seth's NILMDTS pictures) and edit them into collages or add words of remembrance.  I speak a LOT about my experiences because other people speaking to me has helped me a lot.  I choose to take these sad experiences and find something worthwhile to make out of their lives.  Their lives cannot be meaningless.  I've started making angel clothing for other stillborn and miscarried babies.  I even have a few others working on angel clothing, too.  Someone mentioned making mini-scrapbooks and donating them to hospitals.  I absolutely love the idea.  The hospital I delivered at had nearly nothing for angel babies.  No memory boxes.  They had a couple blankets and bracelets.  No hats.  No clothing.  So I plan on taking items to hospitals.  If I can get full memory boxes made, that would be amazing!  I just keep talking, keep crying, keep looking at pictures, and keep trying to do whatever I can for others in such a sad point in their lives.  Doing things in their memory and honor makes their short lives have meaning and purpose - and expanding it to more than just meaning and memories for ME makes me feel even better.  I should say that, just because I can type out positive stuff today doesn't mean that every day is positive.  Some days, that lingering pain just doesn't ease up and I cry at the tiniest little things.  Some days are still very hard, but it's only been 3 weeks since his birth.

How did those around you feel and grieve?
I know that others have been effected.  My mom was saddened, as was my sister.  For some, it stirs up painful memories of their own loss.  For others who have lost, they take the opportunity to help me to return the favor of being helped by someone else during their first days and weeks.  Some are inspired to help me as I try to make clothes and such.  Some prefer to ignore the whole thing.  I had an amazing outpouring of love and help like I had never experienced after Seth was born.    Other than that, I'm not really sure.

How did your experiences affect you spiritually? 
I think many who know me need to read this part.  I feel like my losses continue to bring me closer and closer to my Heavenly Father and my Savior.  My prayers change.  I pray more and more to know how to help others.  I pray for chances to serve others.  I pray that He'll tell my children that I love them and miss them.  I pray more fervently than ever that He will lead me to what is best.  I'm more likely to cry when praying than ever before.  In fact, nearly every prayer includes tears now (or, at least in the last 3 1/2 weeks since we found out Seth had died).  My faith has not diminished at all.  It continues to grow and strengthen.  I know that my Heavenly Father loves me.  I know it.  With no doubt.  And I recognize in prayer that I am just sad for my own loss, but that I am grateful for the chance to know them and raise them later.  I may not focus on that on my bad days, but on my good days (like today) those thoughts are very prevalent.

What was your greatest challenge with miscarriage?
Maybe the people who know me should stop reading now.  It's hard to see how miscarriage affects a mother and a father differently.  Ben hadn't yet bonded with our children.  He thought it was sad, but he's overall pretty fine and not in any stage of grief or mourning.   I'm sure he'll not be pleased with me sharing this online, but those going through miscarriage should know - I had my NILMDTS photographer take a picture of Seth in the same pose as each of our children have been photographed in.  I intended from the beginning for it to be hung on the wall with our other children, which happens to be in the dining room.  I chose an edited picture so that Seth's eyes were closed so the kids wouldn't be confused by his opened eyes.  I chose black and white rather than color to be a little more kind to anyone who came to our home.  Ben took it down a couple days after I hung it up.  I let him know that him removing the photo was like him rejecting Seth as one of our children.  He said it grossed him out to see a picture of a corpse when sitting at the dinner table.  A picture of my son should not "gross out" my husband, his father, and should not be referred to as a picture of a corpse.  That hurt me SO MUCH.

Also, others telling me in their kindest words that I needed to stop being sad and get over it already is amazingly difficult.  Every birth day and due date is going to be hard, and there will be random hard days in between.  Imagine losing your child.  You don't just get over it.

So, it wasn't the physical stuff that was hard.  It wasn't my own coming to terms that my child would not live in my home.  It was that others move on more quickly than I am.

What, if any, was your greatest gift or life lesson?
My greatest gift is my faith and devotion.  I have a Heavenly Father and Savior that love me and comfort me.  And they guide me to where I can help others.  I try to look at my losses as a way to show me that there is a great need that isn't being met, and I'm being entrusted to help meet those needs.  So I will keep making angel clothing and other items.  I will keep telling my story.  And I will keep holding nothing back in the hopes that someone will be helped by my experience.  I may have severe heartache every single day as I sew these tiny little clothes, but Christ comforts me as I follow His guidance.  How could any gift be much greater than that?


If you’d like to be interviewed, please email tuckersuzanne @ sbcglobal (dot) net, or feel free to comment on the link to her post provided above. You can see the videos from other moms she has talked to on Hopeful Miscarriage.

And as she ended her post, I would like to end mine the same:
Blessings to you on your journey, and thank you from MY healing heart for listening.

Poems - part 3b

This is the poem that was read during Seth's memorial service:

What Makes A Mother?

I thought of my little one
and I closed my eyes
and prayed to God today.
I asked what makes a Mother
and I know I heard him say,

"A Mother has a baby.
This we know is true."
But God can you be a Mother
when your baby's not with you?

"Yes you can!" He replied
with confidence in His voice,
"I give many women babies,
when they leave is not their choice."

"Some I send for a lifetime
and others for a day.
And some I send to feel your womb
but there's no need to stay."

"I just don't understand this God,
I want my baby here."
He took a deep breath and cleared His throat
and then I saw a tear.

"I wish I could show you
what your little one
is doing here today.
If you could see [him] smile
with other children and say..."

"We go to earth to learn our lessons
of love and life and fear.
My mommy loved me oh so much
I got to come straight here."

"I feel so lucky to have a Mom
who has so much love for me
I learned my lesson very quick
My Mommy set me free."

"I miss My Mommy oh so much
but I visit her each day.
When she goes to sleep
on her pillow's where I lay."

"I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek
and whisper in her ear,
Mommy don't be sad today
I'm your baby and I'm here."

"So you see my dear sweet one,
your children are OK.
Your babies are here in my home
and this is where they'll stay."

"They'll wait for you with me
until your lesson is through.
And on the day that you come home
they'll be at the gates for you."

"So now you see what makes a Mother.
It's the feeling in your heart.
It's the love you had so much of
right from the very start." 

And these are the ones I would have liked to have read, if only I had the voice:

It must be very difficult
to be a man in grief,
since "men don't cry" and men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.

It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test
and field calls and visitors
So she can get some rest.

They always ask if she's all right
and what she's going through,
but seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, but how are you?"
He hears her crying in the night
and thinks his heart will break.
He dries her tears and comforts her,
But "stays strong" for her sake.

It must be very difficult
To start each day anew
and try to be so very brave
He lost his baby too.

Eileen Knight Hagemeister

They Say There is a Reason (Author Unknown)

They say there is a reason,

They say that time will heal,

But neither time nor reason,

Will change the way I feel,

For no-one knows the heartache,

That lies behind our smiles,

No-one knows how many times,

We have broken down and cried,

We want to tell you something,

So there won't be any doubt,

You're so wonderful to think of,

But so hard to be without.

Little Snowdrop (Author Unknown)

The world may never notice
If a Snowdrop doesn't bloom,
Or even pause to wonder
If the petals fall too soon.
But every life that ever forms,
Or ever comes to be,
Touches the world in some small way
For all eternity.

The little one we long for
Was swiftly here and gone.
But the love that was then planted
Is a light that still shines on.
And though our arms are empty,
Our hearts know what to do.
Every beating of our hearts
Says that we love you.

 

Funeral & the aftermath - part 3

Friday,         03 August - I found out via ultrasound at 19 weeks that Seth had died at 16 weeks.
Monday,      06 August - I finished off all the arrangements I could prior to delivery
Tuesday,      07 August - Seth Micah Harvey was born
Wednesday, 08 August - D&C, released from the hospital
Friday,        10 August - Seth's graveside service
Saturday,    11 August - sat in bed recovering and crying all day
Sunday,      12 August - went to see family, realized I can't be with people for long before breaking down.

Friday was the funeral.  It was a very small but sweet service.  Brother Smith conducted since our Bishop was out of town.  I looked over the blogs of all of my loss-mama friends but didn't see a "program" so I thought I should share mine in case anyone needed an example later on down the road.

Opening Prayer...............Kathryn Harvey (Ben's sister)
Opening Remarks...........McKay Smith (bishopric)
Name & Blessing............Ben Harvey (didn't know this was an option, but it's a name known in the  records of our family, not on the records of the church, since he never took a breath)
Poem...............................Lee-Ann Luke (mother of a loss-mama friend)
Dedication of Grave.......Jerom Becar (bishopric)
Song................................I Am A Child of God (I don't recommend this song, I don't get to lead and guide and walk beside to help him find his way)
Closing Prayer................Denise Curtis (friend)

After talking to other loss-mamas, it seems most people have grandmothers of the child(ren) speak but my mom is out of state and Ben's parents were out of town that weekend.  Some people sing songs, others don't.  I thought the poem was appropriate and helped make it feel more like a funeral than a gathering to watch a burial.  The Name & Blessing isn't needed, but it was an amazing blessing and it made me feel better that it was done.  For LDS families like ours, you don't HAVE to dedicate the grave, you can say a little graveside prayer instead if you have people attending that don't understand our faith.  Everyone there was LDS and I preferred the Dedication.

Kimberly (a dear loss-mama friend) and Melissa

Ashley & Jerom Becar

Tiny little 12" casket

with Lee-Ann Luke, who read the poem

with Denise, my amazing friend who was with me through it all

Angel Garden is the infant section of the Provo Cemetery.

as people left, I sat trying to prepare for Seth to be put into the ground

Ben let me hide my face for a while.

In the ground.

Good bye, sweet Angel boy.

The service was supposed to begin at 1pm, but Seth and his tiny casket didn't even arrive until just after 1pm.  I was a bit disgruntled about that, of course.  Then, even though Ben had asked them that morning if they were bringing a table and table cloth, they didn't bring either.  Once everyone gathered around for it to begin though, I no longer had room in my emotions for being upset about these things.  Someone asked if I wanted a picture holding or touching the casket, but I couldn't do it.  I asked them to take a picture of Seth inside his casket for me, since they said he was further discolored now (Ben said he looked about the same though), so they asked if I wanted to see him inside his casket.  I couldn't do it.  To see him or even touch the casket would mean having to give him up again.  And I couldn't give him up again.  Once was enough.  I shook and shook and tears just poured.  I do want to see the picture of Seth in his casket though.  I just couldn't do it then.  

Since the funeral, I think most people think that's the end and now it's time to get back to normal.  Except, what is normal?  Of 6 pregnancies, 5 have names, I have pictures of 4, and I only get to hold 3.  I am a mother to Keith, (baby 2), Mitchell, Kiersten, Taylor, and Seth.  Only Keith, Mitchell, and Kiersten are in my home.  What is NORMAL when you only get to mother half of your children?  I'm still healing, and I suffered the consequences of being overly active the day of the funeral, so I'm still not allowed to pick up Kiersten to climb the stairs often, or even stand in the kitchen to wash dishes or cook food.  I can't care for the children living in my home.  How is anything supposed to be normal.  It's almost like, "okay, burial is closure to the whole entire topic, it's time to move on and forget about it now."  Not that anyone has said that, but it feels like that's the expectation now.  

I tried to go out Sunday to see family that was in town after another funeral.  After a couple hours, I tried to leave the room to use the bathroom, but grief overcame me and I nearly collapsed in the bathroom from the overwhelming grief.  I wanted to leave, but Ben grieves differently and wanted to stay with his family, so I went to the car for nearly an hour while I allowed the grief to pour out and then tried to use makeup to whiten myself up again.  With a house full of kids (13 of them), I didn't want to let my sadness hurt them.  I'm glad I didn't try to go to church.  The sadness on people's faces weighs me down, but seeing carefree faces hurts too.  I know, catch-22, right?  I should say now:  I am not angry about anyone else's happiness, not upset that anyone else is pregnant, I may be a tad jealous of healthy, happy babies and pregnancies, but I am still not upset about anyone else being happy or pregnant.  Got it?  I am happy for you, just sad for me.  Promise.  

I'm going to do a part 3b with the poem read at the funeral, and two that I would have read if I'd had a voice.

Delivery Day - part 1

I know I'm going to have to break this into a couple posts.  There's definitely the good, the bad, and the ugly to be shared.  I thought about starting with the ugly so I could work backward and end on a good note.  But I guess I woke up feeling more generous than that.

I worked hard to get everything done before induction.  A lady in the ward works for an ob/gyn office and helped me set up an appointment to see a doctor who agreed to do the delivery the next day.  A friend who lost her baby a year ago said that someone made phone calls for her that were helpful, so she took on that task for me - calling mortuaries and cemeteries to help us find out costs for caskets, the burial, the plot, etc.  Her estimates helped out a lot, and she found out that there is only one nearby cemetery with an infant section.  I like the idea of my baby being with others of the same age.  Turns out, my baby is just a few plots away from a friend's baby.  I hate it, but it's comforting for me.  We picked out the smallest casket available.  We arranged childcare for induction day.  I packed bags with jammies and extra clothes for "just in case."  I got my hospital bag packed.  I got everything I could done before going to the hospital on Tuesday.  It made me feel like I could mentally be there and aware of what was going on.

We arrived at the hospital on Tuesday at noon.  We checked in at the front desk, then into our room.  It was a huge room.  Ben still needed to go pay for the cemetery plot so once I'd had my first dose of Cytotec, he went to do that (cash or check, no cards) and my friend, Denise, came to be with me.  She stayed until everything was calm and we were just waiting for hospital procedure for me to be released.  She was such a comfort to me.  And she was such an advocate for me.  She helped me so very much.  I'm so glad Denise cleared her schedule, even missed a Scout Court of Honor where one of her boys became a Star, just to help me and help Ben as we managed the hospital, our emotions, our grief, our fears, and so much more.  Thank you, Denise.

It wasn't until about 1:25pm that I had the first dose of Cytotec (which, by the way, is NOT approved by the FDA for the induction of labor... just FYI).  Not much happened for a while.  The second dose was at 5:20.  By 6pm, bleeding had started.  I figured it wouldn't be much longer, considering how things progressed with Taylor.  Something I hadn't accounted for was that, with Taylor I was walking around the house while this time, I was in a hospital bed with a monitor on which made me feel strapped down and like I had to ask permission just to use the bathroom.  That slows progression of any labor.  I felt contractions in my lower abdomen and my upper thighs just before the second dose.  They continued to increase after the second dose.  I got a third dose around 9:15.


Finally, around 10:30pm, I had decided that I just HAD to go to the bathroom.  I got up, got in there, sat down, and the tiniest push caused a bulge to appear.  I put my hand below it, just in case it tried to drop into the water.  Nurses and Denise helped me back to the bed.  Three nurses worked to have me push just a little bit at a time.  I still needed to use the bathroom, so I was afraid to push very hard.  My baby was still in the caul, still entirely inside the amniotic sac.  Once they broke away the sac, they put him on a basic hospital baby blanket/towel and gave him to me so very carefully, at 10:45pm.  I had someone, I think Ben, call the Heidi (our NILMDTS photographer).  All I could do is stare and memorize.


He had toenails.  Yes, HE!  Turns out the ultrasound tech was wrong, as it is very difficult to see gender on a 16 week baby via ultrasound.  We needed a new name.  Isabelle obviously would not be working out after all.  I let Ben take him for a while, and I looked up my name list.  I read them off, Ben said a few stuck out, so I read them one more time.  I already approved of all the names on the list, so when Ben chose Seth from my list, I was pleased.  We weren't sure if we'd give him a middle name.  Taylor didn't have one, which is why I hadn't chosen to give him one when we anticipated him being Isabelle.  But Seth just seemed to need another name.  It wouldn't come until Heidi was packing up to leave.  Someone suggested Michael, but Micah was on my list so we chose that instead.  I've always loved the name Micah!


Heidi was there from about 11:30pm-12:20am.  I am so grateful there are people like her, willing to come out at a moments notice in the middle of the night to photograph such sad pictures for a family to have to remember their lost child.  Seth stayed near Ben while Heidi did most of the pictures, and nurses were still working on me, trying to coax the placenta out.  They were kind to keep a sheet pulled to keep me modest, understanding how important the pictures were/are to me, yet also knowing they had work to do.  When the nurses weren't working on me, we were able to get a few shots of me with Seth, and then Seth with both me and Ben.

I memorized my boy as long as I could.  I hadn't eaten solid food all day and had very little juice, so I didn't have much energy and it was such a long day.  I was so tired.  I laid Seth in his blanket on my chest and wept.  Usually, I lay my babies on my arm and curl up in bed with them, cuddling them all night long.  Seth was too little for my arm.  I held very still, cradled him, continued to weep, and thought of all the things I was going to miss with him.  I closed my eyes to recall memories of him, to see what other parts of him I needed to study and memorize.  His ears were tiny little flat buds, still low on his head, but very apparent.  His lips were slightly puckered.  His nose was tiny and button-like, Denise said he would have had my nose.  His fingers weren't able to spread, but each finger was there.  His toes were tiny, all 10 accounted for, each would separate, and each finger and toe had either a nail or a nail-bed.  His eyes were open and dark.  His legs were perfect - tiny muscular thighs, solid bones in his knees and ankles, absolutely perfectly formed.  You could feel his ribs, and his shoulders were slightly askew.  He was fragile, very fragile, but he is mine and I love him.


I noticed that his skin was darkening, so being afraid they wouldn't be able to get footprints if I didn't hurry, I let the nurses taken him for a few minutes.  They brought him back to me and then I had to think of saying goodbye forever.  I cradled him on my chest a while longer, and kissed his little hatted head.  It felt so wrong to let someone take my baby.  He was supposed to stay with me for years and years until he left the house but still came to visit often.  It made me have an even deeper appreciation for those who have allowed their child to be adopted.  Allowing someone else to take your baby, perhaps never to see them again... for me, there was no option to keep him.  It hurt me so much to tell them it was time to let him leave my room for good.  But it had to happen.  He was already gone.

 

It's amazing how much you can love and miss someone who never took a breath.  But I do.  So very, very much.  I guess I really don't have to explain.  I am his mother.  He is my son.  Whether he is in my home or not, he is still in my heart and in my mind constantly.  I may smile, I may laugh, but that doesn't mean I'm not still thinking of how empty my arms are.  I've been talking to him, joyfully making plans for how our family dynamic will change, and dreaming of him since finding out I was pregnant.  He's been with me for nearly 20 weeks.  Now, instead of carrying him in my belly or in my arms, I will be carrying him always in my heart.   Seth Micah Harvey, I love you.

Day 2 - again

Well, thanks to some absolutely fabulous women in my ward and that I met after Taylor died, I:

• have an appointment with a doctor tomorrow, and then I can schedule an induction
• am in contact with a photographer from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep
• know to ask for the benevolent specialist
• know to use words like "stillbirth" instead of "miscarriage," after all, despite her age, I have still carried her for over 19 weeks, perhaps 20 weeks by delivery and I know that a certificate of stillbirth would be better for me than being sent home with no proof of her existence
• know that I need to find a mortuary/funeral home so that I can
•  either get an urn or a casket, depending on cremation or burial
• get an infant burial plot at a cemetery, if we choose to go that route
•  have some places to contact concerning a headstone, if we go that route 
•  got to the Jordan River Temple yesterday - even if I didn't get all the answers I wanted, it was a break from crying and that was nice, my eyes are sore and burn, had to switch to glasses it hurt so much
• know to have MORE memorabilia rather than a bare minimum - I can choose not to look at too many pictures, hide away the foot/hand castings or prints, make a box for everything so I only have to look when I want to, but I can't ever get more done - more people seem to wish they had more photos and memorabilia than fewer/less

There is still a lot to accomplish, like all those big decisions I mentioned (cremation/burial, cemetery, mortuary, urn/casket, headstone, etc...) but I am working on it.  I talked to my insurance company a few times already.  They'll do genetic testing on me, need pre-approval for testing on the placenta, but will not cover ANYTHING for Isabelle.  No autopsy.  No blood work.  No checking for chromosomal abnormalities.  No searching for cause of death.  No searching to see if this would happen a third time if I got pregnant again.  Any testing has to be done on ME only.  I think it's a crap shoot, but what do I know.  Oh, and the reason they don't cover testing on Isabelle...?  She's not registered under our insurance plan.  There would be no family member to charge it to.   Yes, if you're feeling angry right now, you've got just a taste of my feelings.

How am I feeling?  I got most of the really snotty and loud crying out... for now.  I still cry, though not for a solid half hour of tears streaming down my face.  I'm in business mode trying to get all of these arrangements made.  TV isn't very numbing, but being in business mode is.  My head hurts constantly.  Not sure if it's from crying or from holding back tears, or both, or just the headache that it is to arrange for delivery of my already dead baby and then figure out what to do with my child's body.  No parent should have to do this kind of stuff.  I called the hospital that I plan to deliver at, and they were very UNhelpful.  She couldn't tell me if I'd get a certificate of stillbirth or not - if it's based on how many weeks pregnant I am or the gestational age of the baby.  She couldn't tell me what the hospital's photographer offers for parents of a stillborn.  All she could tell me is that, if I wanted to, they would DISPOSE of the body for me.  Yeah, like anyone wants to hear that.  Sounds like (and they probably do) they just throw the baby in the trash.  This is my CHILD.  She should NOT be in the trash.  I WILL do better this time.  Half of what hurt so much with Taylor was how her body was treated.  Since I never saw it and she was flushed down a toilet, I felt very guilty for mistreating her.  I know I didn't do it on purpose.  I hope Taylor knows that, too.  And I am NOT going to allow such a thing for Isabelle.  Her body WILL be respected and treated properly, like a child, not trash.

So, if anyone has any suggestions or stories of what you/others have done considering cremation/burial, cemetery, mortuary, urn/casket, headstone, etc..., please let me know.  A closer cemetery is probably better so I can visit, should I want to.  Or maybe I should go for the same one that other family is in so that she is properly visited on Memorial Day, though it's a good hour or so from here.  Suggestions??

4am

It's 4am.  I woke up half an hour ago.  I can't stop crying.  Not even TV is numbing me this time.  How did this happen twice in a year?  In the time it should have taken me to carry and deliver one healthy baby, I've lost TWO in the second trimester.  But why?  How?  I'm still nauseous half the time.  It's a rare day when I'm not.  That's supposed to be one of those comforting symptoms of a healthy pregnancy and it now means nothing to me.  I can hardly breathe.  It feels like my chest is trying to collapse.  I don't know what to think.  I don't know what to do.  All I can do is cry.  Loud.  I tried to eat, tried to pray before eating and it turned into this huge snot covered ball of mess.  I answered the door, saw face, and lost it again.  Tried to sleep and all I can think of is that I now have two angels waiting in heaven.  And it's not fair.  Twice in a year?  Twice in six months?  It's been a solid 12 minutes of huffing and puffing crying and I can't stop.  My husband said the most crass thing a few weeks ago.  I didn't want to attend a baby blessing on Taylor's due date and he said "I thought being pregnant again was supposed to fix things."  I wanted to scream!  One baby does not replace another.  But now I see that I thought the same thing.  This baby was supposed to be born just after Christmas, a few days apart from Kiersten's birthday, just like how my boys' birthdays are just a few days apart.  And it was supposed to make things better.  Instead, I am absolutely shattered.  I'm shaking.  My eyes burn from crying so much.  My "rainbow baby" is another angel, another butterfly that has flown away.  I can't do this a third time in a row.  Technically, this is my THIRD loss already.  We kinda feel like our loss between Keith and Mitchell didn't yet have a spirit attached to it, and that Mitchell would have been that baby, so that one doesn't hurt.  I have that child, just in a different body.  But Taylor and now Isabelle.

Yes, we chose the name Isabelle.  We know that this baby IS a girl.  I say IS because she's still inside of me.  Today I should be 19 weeks.  I went in for that happy gender revealing ultrasound.  The first thing she did was look at the cervix and then went to the baby.  As she did, I said "and there is a heartbeat and everything?"  She said, "why would you ask that?" in a nervous, curious tone.  I said, "because with my last baby, there wasn't."  She said, "I'm sorry, I don't think there is."  Last time, I was alone.  This time, I had the entire family with me.  I had been telling the boys all morning that we were going to go find out if mommy's new baby was a boy or a girl.  Instead, we had to tell them that the new baby died, too.  I had her look for a gender and she was pretty certain it's a girl.  She said that Isabelle died at about 16 weeks, 3 weeks ago.  She said that, just like with Taylor, Isabelle has a perfectly formed and developed body.  There was no obvious reason for either of them to have died.  No cord accident.  No placenta accident.  She even showed me that the placenta was still perfectly attached, though it was in front (something she pointed out before I asked about the heartbeat which had given me a slight hope, since that would account for why I had not been feeling movement).  But no.  Hope apparently doesn't live in my house.  Or at least not inside me.

With Taylor, she passed at 13 weeks, I found out at 13 weeks 4 days, and I was able to induce at home with Cytotec and deliver at 14 weeks.

With Isabelle, she passed at 16 weeks, I found out at 19 weeks, and I am too far along to induce at home this time.  Currently, my scheduled hospital induction isn't until August 21st (Keith's first day of First Grade) when she will have been dead for nearly 6 weeks.  I'm trying to find a random doctor that can get me in sooner.  I can't wait that long.  I can't be my baby's walking tomb that long.  Plus her body will deteriorate the longer she's inside.  I want to be able to see her and hold her.  Call me crazy, but I want pictures of her.  None of the ultrasound pictures are very pretty.  Some are downright scary looking, especially knowing it's not a healthy, developing baby but a baby that has been dead for 3 weeks.  The skeletal images just make me feel more like a walking tomb.

Insurance only covers genetic testing on ME to see if something is keeping me from having full term happy babies.  It doesn't cover any testing on the baby.

I hope to be able to bury Isabelle.  Anyone know of nearby cemeteries?  Do any of them have a section for children?  I want a tombstone with both my babies' names on it.  Taylor & Isabelle Harvey.  I suppose I put their "birth" dates instead of their death dates.  Taylor died 16 Jan 2012, and was born 23 Jan 2012.  Isabelle died (are you freakin' kidding me?) on Friday, 13 July 2012, awaiting her birth date.

It seems my body feels about my babies the same as I do.  It loves them and wants to keep them.  How odd that after 3 weeks, I still have no signs of miscarriage.  None.  At all.  My body is holding onto her tight.

This isn't fair.  This isn't right.  I should, however, qualify that I am not hateful about anyone else being pregnant.  I may get jealous or sad, but I don't begrudge anyone a happy and healthy pregnancy.  Please don't feel like you can't share your happy news with me.  Heck, before I went in for my ultrasound, I got a text that a very dear friend of mine had just given birth to a beautiful baby, her #4 just as Taylor and then Isabelle should have been for me.  We were due together, then I lost Taylor.  But I am so happy that she has her sweet boy.  Another friend and I were supposed to be 10 weeks apart.  I've always wanted to be pregnant with her.  She and I are pretty close and she's been trying for SO long.  I was so excited to hear we were finally both pregnant!  Now it's just her.  But I'm still happy for her.  I'm just sad, again, for me.

Okay, so here are the best of the images of Isabelle that I currently have.  Hopefully (can I still even use that word?), I'll get some better ones after she's born that I can look at to remember her with.  These ones just don't do her justice (can I use THAT word?).  Call it creepy if you want, but I want pictures of my baby.  If I had seen Taylor's body, I would have wanted pictures of hers, too.  They are my children.  I love them.  I want pictures to remember them by, that I can share with others, rather than no one remembering them, and there being no proof of their existence.  I want them to have a tombstone for the same reason.  So there is proof of them.  Full term or not, they are my babies.  And they are gone.  And I want other people to know them, to remember them, and to know how much I love them.  Here's Isabelle:

15 weeks, happy and healthy

19 weeks, stopped growing 3 weeks ago

Crossed legs, female

Taylor Harvey - lost at 13 weeks, born at 14 weeks
Isabelle Harvey - lost at 16 weeks, awaiting birth
I love you both.  Take care of each other.



By the way, finally tally was 14 to 6 in favor of Girl.  You guys guessed right!