Luke Is Three Weeks Old!

Is this the face of a miracle or what?

Daddy sure does think so!!

Three weeks...very hard to believe! It seems like such a long time he's already been here...almost a month! Holy cow.

It also seems like we were just in the hospital. Just counting the weeks until 38. Just baking goodies for the doctors. Just waiting and praying for a healthy delivery.

Again, time confounds me.

He's still just so sweet. I know every parent says that about his or her baby, but honestly, Luke is just so sweet. Mellow...gentle. Laid back. Just precious.

I think the jaundice is finally working its way completely out because he is staying awake more often. Still not as much as I'd like when he's eating, but better. He's finding his voice, too...sadly we found this out when his tummy hurts. Last night his tummy was really bothering him and he actually cried! Like, really cried...we saw tears! Even that was hardly anything, though--we call him everything from Baby Kitty (exactly what he sounds like) to Little Alien (because when he actually DOES cry, as he calms down, especially with his paci, he starts getting all gurgly with his noises and it sounds like he's talking alien!) to Baby Bird (since we feed him like one and his little arms and legs are like bird arms and legs). Last night, we gave him some of the tummy drops and that seemed to help his fussiness. He slept for his 4 hour stretch (abbreviated only because I woke him!) and after that, and eating, he went on for another 4 hours and 20 minutes (which is about 20 minutes longer than I wanted, but tried to coordinate with John's getting up so he could have his last bit of sleep too!) Those drops are great!

He loves baths!!! He doesn't fuss (which is not unusual!) but seems to really like the warm water, just like Mommy! I have been pregnant for almost 20 of the last 23 months and nearly EVERY day, I thanked God for hot showers and warm water! Luke loves having his hair washed and rinsed the best, again much like his mommy!

We are still working on eating. He is getting better with latching on, thankfully, but only with a lot of try, try and try again! He's a little tongue curler (thanks, Daddy!) so we are now working on tongue exercises to help there too. He is eating a bit more, and we are supplementing with the little periodontal dropper--about 4 ounces extra a day. We'll weigh him again tomorrow and at this point, if he's not gaining with the round the clock feedings and the extra food (breast milk), I don't know what I'd do differently. Pump to bottles, I guess. Everyone says it gets easier between 4-6 weeks, so that's what I am hoping.

I am jealous, if not completely skeptical, about those who say breastfeeding is the easiest and most natural thing in the world. It may be the most natural FOOD, but I'm surely not finding it the easiest process. I've told John that if I wasn't so worried about his feeding, I think I'd be a great bit more relaxed and not as stressed as I sometimes find myself. Easier said than done to not obsess over it so much--I just want to make sure he's doing as well as he can possibly do. I seriously, seriously wonder how mothers of multiples do this, or young mothers. I'm almost 38, lots of life experience, educated, supported beyond measure...and STILL am befuddled by this 6 pound sweetheart who SWEARS he's hungry but then decides to wave off when abundantly showered with food.

His cheeks are getting more full, and he is definitely growing in length at least, if not in girth! The preemie outfits he was wearing still are good for his weight, but his loooooooong little legs are just too long! We've moved into newborn sizes, and they are still blousy, but even those are getting a little short for him! His feet are filling the footie part and he's pushing his toes right to the end! Long and lean, we grow them...long and lean! His legs are SOOOO long (over half his body!) and his fingers are very, very long as well. Just skin and bones, though!

He's sleeping so well in the evenings. Even when he is awake after a feeding or something, he is quiet...bundled up in his swaddler and little hat, paci in mouth--all you can really see are his eyes and they just roam around, very alert and very inquisitively, until he starts 'talking to his angels' and falls asleep. I'm praying that we get his weight gain and food issues under control because he would surely sleep for great stretches through the night if I let him. That will be nice!

I just love him. Every day, at least 50 times, I just find myself having a hard time believing he is really here and really real. I'm so overwhelmed with gratitude for his life and his existence, but honestly, still in disbelief that he's home with us. There are some days the shoe dangles less than others, so I guess that's a good sign, but it's always there...dangling and taunting, almost daring me to believe fully that we will raise him and even maybe see his children one day.

I'm working on letting my heart fully go there. It's still hard when I can barely look at pictures of Matthew without crying. Or even tearing up as I type about looking at pictures of him. God forbid I start talking about him without it being quick and in context like, "We bought that for Matthew, and Luke ......" or "When I was pregnant with Matthew, it was like....but with Luke, it was...." To talk about how much my heart still (and even more, if possible) aches for Matthew just envelopes me sometimes.

I know many might think this should be a time of sunshine and roses...and it is.

But it's also a time of heartache and longing...everything I experience with Luke is like an imprint with a hot rod on my heart of everything I will NOT experience with Matthew.

Little Bit is stirring....and swearing (ha ha) he is hungry. We'll see. Off to get his baby bird food ready...I'm posting some pictures from his third week. He gets at least 100 taken a day, seriously!

Sweet Little Luke, Mommy just loves you so much. You are more precious to me than I think you can ever know....

This picture brings such tears to my eyes...this is one of my sweet, sweet students from several years ago. A precious and amazing little boy. He and his mommy came to visit and I just love how he's holding Luke, yet Matthew is still in the background. The night we had Matthew's funeral, John told me that he would have wanted Matthew to grow up just like this little boy. Me too.

Cousin Ellie bought him this outfit...one of the few that fit the first week and a half. Still fits in pounds, but WAY too short for those long legs!

Daddy loves this boy, let me tell you!

From his first bath a bit ago....

He got some pictures taken with our sweet friend Krissy. He was SOOO good, even though he did all the peeing and pooping all over Mommy (what does one expect when the baby is not wearing clothes?!) and let Daddy hold him naked for a long time! Kris did our amazing maternity pictures--seriously, what talent in that fabulously adorable woman!

"I don't know why Daddy has to micromanage Mommy's cooking. I think her food's great! I'm out! Of course, Mommy only had to beg, borrow and steal to get me to eat enough!"

So intent on his Daddy!

"Nothing on tv. Guess I'll nap!"

Guilt, Guilt, Guilt...

Some days, one feels like she just can't win.

Try and be happy and positive and excited for renewed hope and feel the guilt of leaving the sorrow of your dead child behind.

Mute your excitement and joy and anticipation out of respect for your sweet first-born and feel guilty for robbing your second.

Have hurt feelings because it seems as if few remembered your son and his existence at Christmas and then feel guilty because you realize you didn't really do anything special for him either. What does one do for their dead child? There's guilt in not even knowing...because the answer is that one does what is best for each individual...and that differs. Not feeling a burning desire to do 'X' or 'Y' leaves one feeling guilty.

Even airing feelings opens the guilt trap...guilt about coming across as complaining. Guilt about getting upset at something someone might say with the best of intentions and yet, makes you so aggravated you stew about it for days. Guilt about even having some of the feelings you are feeling guilty about because for Pete's sake--at least you have the joy of another child to love and to raise (you pray) and you know so many people who are struggling for that same joy to enter their lives.

Guilt, guilt, guilt.

John and I have been talking a lot about where we are now and where we were a year ago. In the same breath that he notes, "We've come a long way," he also follows with, "But I wish people knew we aren't ever going to be the same and have a long way to go." I couldn't agree more. We HAVE come a long way. But in that coming along...it's easy for people to take that 'progress' as acceptance and being ready to 'close' the Matthew chapter as we open the 'Luke' chapter.

Nothing could be further from the truth. To us, our 'progress' is just a teeny, tiny leg of the loooooong road to when we all get to Heaven.

We anticipate that'll be a while.

The purpose of continuing to write on this blog after Matthew died was to continue to share my heart with a child or children who might read it. To continue our family's story. Obviously, as others read it (and Luke is more into Tumble Bumble or Who Hoots? read by Daddy!) there are days I do find myself writing for those who may read. It's those days I worry about writing something that someone is going to take the wrong way because it is inevitable that it happens.

So...knowing that...I preface the next words with the disclaimer that I do not in any way, shape or form claim that our thoughts and feelings are rational, only that they are ours. They are not directed at anyone, and trust me when I say they are laced in guilt for even thinking them, much less writing about them.

But John said Luke might want to know one day and since he NEVER voices opinions like that, I figured I would at least write our thoughts down.

I cannot explain how nice it was to have our Pensacola friends come to visit and to be able to talk about things that many sidestep because they don't want to hurt my feelings. I TOTALLY get and appreciate that people don't want to hurt my feelings, but it's nice to be asked questions about my feelings and be able to share them without worrying about being judged for them. It's so nice to be told, "I wouldn't hurt you for anything, so if I ask you anything or talk about anything that hurts you, please tell me." This allows me to share that I am comfortable talking about Matthew and what happened with him, and more, grateful for the opportunity to do so. It's nice to be asked, "Did this help you or does it not?" or "Would you prefer people to do this or for people to do that?" and to be able to answer honestly. I always make sure it is known that my feelings and thoughts are just mine...and might be very different for another person who has experienced what we have...but just being asked is so liberating.

That liberty is really such a needed balance to the guilt we sometimes feel about our reactions to very benign and kind things people say. John and I both agree that though we appreciate and understand the enthusiasm with which so many statements are spoken, they sometimes sting a little. Statements like, "Just wait...you won't have time for: (fill in the blank with appropriate leisure activity)." or "You'll see...parenthood is completely different than the books tell you," or "As a boy mom/dad, I can tell you: (again, fill in the blank with appropriate piece of boy advice)." or even (and this we feel REALLY guilty about because we KNOW people are just being nice), "So are you ready for Luke? Do you need anything for him?"

I think that one sometimes hurts us because it's as if people forget we were ready for Matthew. Technically, we've been 'ready' for Luke since Matthew died. We did not go to the hospital planning to bring Matthew home and then get ready for him. His room was done, his clothes and diapers were bought, his stocking was hung by the chimney with care. For Luke, we've changed many things, but mos have been 'inherited' from Matthew.

I know that's not what people mean, but rational or not, as I said, it sort of feels that way.

We've been waiting for our leisure activities to be dramatically reduced (or eliminated!) for years. We've been waiting to see all the antics that a little boy will bring into our home for years. Some of the things people share with us are things that we have dreamed of and planned for for years.

I know. Irrational. Regardless...on our hearts. I think at the core, it's because all of those thoughts and sentiments are ones you normally give (and I am sure I have!) to new parents--and we certainly do not feel like new parents.

Different, but not new. Our parenthood advice obviously can't with any experience base be shared to help soothe colic or suggest a better sling, but we absolutely have parenthood experience under our belts.

Parenting a baby or child who no longer lives presents an entirely different set of challenges, trust me.

And a lot of guilt.

Conflict...

I've had these thoughts rummaging around in my head for a bit now...just not sure how to voice them, and still not so sure--they are very jumbled thoughts.

We are 18 days and some hours from Luke's birthday. I can't even describe the joy and excitement I am feeling in anticipation.

Or the fear.

Or the anxiety.

Or the conflict.

So many people have told me that they guessed this pregnancy has draaaaaaaaaaaagggged for me, but for them, it's flown by.

In reality, it's not dragged for me at all. Well, in the last week and a half it has, but mostly, it's flown.

It's flown because I just cannot fathom how over a year has come between me and Matthew. I told Dr. Polko the other day that it might have dragged if it was a regular pregnancy where I wasn't worried about too much other than the 'normal' stuff...but trying to survive each day and then realizing how quickly those survived days have accumulated into more than a year just overwhelms me and sort of reminds me of the first days when I was just reminding myself to breathe.

I still have to do that sometimes.

Days like today remind me of then...cold and snowy...wondering how I'd make it through the next half hour without breaking down in tears and trying to haphazardly get things 'ready' for Christmas. Like then, I don't feel up to Christmas cards or letters this year. Pretty sure everyone on my list has a decent idea of how our year has been, and we just have so much going on right now that I'm pulling the pregnancy card and combining it with the grieving card and just not doing much more than the bare minimum of things needing to be done.

It's so hard to come to the realization that you've already had the best day you will ever have. By the time you were 36. I am sure some will find that a dramatic statement, and maybe feel that once again, I'm not giving enough credit to Luke and the joy he will bring because I am too saddened by the aching in my heart for my sweet Matthew.

Let them. I don't care. Walk in my shoes and then judge me.

Regardless of how dramatic the statement, it's true. I will have, God willing, many, many more wonderful and amazing days. I have had wonderful and amazing and miraculous days since Matthew died.

But the best one...the one where I don't know what it's like to own the 'rights' to a piece of property that contains my baby son's remains...that's already happened.

So, while I have just been extremely thankful for so much lately...I'm still struggling with the reconciliation of what's been lost and will never be again.

And I've started to get really, really aggravated with people who think another baby 'fixes' things. Is it just me, or does anyone ever pay attention to hearing about a woman who has lost a baby and then someone asking "Well, are they going to try again?"

Like that will fix it? Or, "She lost a baby a few months ago, but they plan to try again."

To me, 'trying again' implies failing at something and planning to be successful at it by attempting the same thing.

Like I got pregnant, but he died. Try again.

Like Matthew was born, but he died. Try again.

Like Matthew dying can be fixed with Luke living.

I just feel like whenever anyone is talking about a woman who has lost a baby, the subject of having another child ALWAYS comes up. I'm not sure why, because if a different family member or even friend were to pass, it would SO NOT BE APPROPRIATE to say, "Well, is he going to go get another wife?" "Are they going to try and find a new grandma?" "Well, when's she going to start looking for a new best friend?"

PEOPLE ARE NOT REPLACEABLE.

Of course LOTS of women who lose babies decide to get pregnant again and have another child. NOT TO REPLACE THE ONE THEY LOST.

Because pregnancy is amazing. Because one MISSES feeling the joy of little kicks and little jabs. Because it's just a miraculous process.

Or, because one wants to be a parent to a LIVING child. Don't doubt she isn't a parent. She just wants to parent a living child or children too.

The automaticity of questioning, "Are they going to try again?" after losing a child just bothers me. When the baby LIVES, no one immediately asks, "Are they going to have another?"

So why is it ok when the baby dies? I just don't think it is.

While there is NO doubt that Luke has brought such a tremendous amount of joy into our lives, it has in no way lessened the heartache or the loss I feel with Matthew being gone.

Those feelings, while diametrically opposed, absolutely can coexist. I'm proof, and I know a lot of other people are too.

As I said, very conflicting.

I read something a few days ago that was just so real to me. Mostly because I have really been dealing with the hard facts that come with Luke's sweet little life...while I will ALWAYS be able to say without a doubt that his life is PURPOSED and would not be in existence without the hand of God, that's something also that is difficult for me to reconcile.

We would NOT have done IVF if Matthew had lived.

We'd have transferred our little Yellow Fish and that would have been that, whichever way it turned out. And that little Yellow was not Luke and never would have been.

Those are just the facts.

So reading what I did was comforting. It was a viewpoint on Paul when he wrote that he was, "confident of this, that He who began a good work in you will carry it on to completion until the day of Christ Jesus." Phillipians 1:6

The viewpoint was that the good work continued until the day of Christ.

Not until death.

In fact, this viewpoint argued, sometimes the purposes of God don't even get started until our deaths.

Which made me wonder about what more purpose Matthew's little life has...not IF there is more, but WHAT.

There's more. I feel it. I know it. I'm thankful for it.

The Countdown Continues...

So, we're like 7 weeks out. If that.

38 weeks will be January 3, so more than likely, we'll be scheduled for the 4th or 5th of January.

Which is NOT. THAT. FAR.

I've had a million things going on in my head...so many that I can't even get them out and that just adds to my t0-do list. I constantly walk around with a list (which I am forever losing, thus forcing the need to make a new list and endure the anxiety of trying to remember what was on the original list...oy!) of things and while I am grateful for the things on the list because they keep me busy, busy, busy-----I'm tired! Not physically; I actually have quite a bit of energy...just mentally.

So I just have been trying to lay low lately. I've had several people tell me that they worry when I don't write or update FB for a few days. I'm so blessed to have people even pay that much attention to me, much less know that may mean that I've got stuff going on internally, so to speak. I guess they are sort of right--not so much in the need to worry, but that it typically means I am processing *stuff* and just needing the time/space/energy to do that.

There's a lot to process these days. Heather wrote about how she has a million posts she'd like to write but then they end up internalized and I SO get that!!! And those 'internal' posts just add to the jumble that's already there!

Luke's appointment Monday was great. No measurements since we just did that last week, but he's doing lovely. He was moving all over the place (and I PURPOSELY ate/drank NOTHING with sugar to keep him more calm. Nope. Nothing doing!) and as usual, Dr. Sweeney did a fabulous job of getting some side profile shots of him. He's got some sweet chubby cheeks like his brother, and huge feet and long legs...again, like his brother. If nothing else, apparently, John and I are consistent. His little lips and pout are his mommy's, along with that chin, and I'm even starting to see some of his Granddad's eyebrow shape like I saw with Matthew. I am so grateful for all these pictures...

I'm also grateful for the care we get from that office. It's like we're rockstars or something! They ask us what we think about the new decorations, feel comfortable enough to make baking requests (FINALLY!!!!!! I'm so happy!!!!! Black-velvet cupcakes were recently requested--and with my homemade icing, not the cream cheese! I couldn't make the cream cheese icing last time because I couldn't tolerate the smell, so I made my own and they LIKED it enough to ask for it again!!!!) and just generally treat us like we are old friends. Dr. Sweeney sent us over to L&D to see 'his buddy' (as he casually says!) who just so happens to be the head of L & D and as Dr. Morris was giving us a tour ALL OVER the place, people were looking at us like we must be very, very important for HIM to be doing that with us! He even took me back to the operating area (though he said he was sneaking us back there because we really weren't supposed to be there!) because "he didn't want anything to scare me or surprise me."

SERIOUSLY???? We are so blessed.

It was emotional, I admit, for both John and me...even though the WHOLE place is different, obviously...it was just so, so emotional. John said the NICU was so very different from Georgetown's...and though Georgetown was wonderful, it was very clinical compared to the warmth and colors of AAMC. I reminded him that private hospitals have different money sources than schools! He knows that, but I just got the impression from John that if it wasn't for the amazing compassion of the Georgetown doctors and nurses who worked with Matthew, he would have even more of a cold and hardened memory.

So, we are all ok. I've been freaking out about the hiccups lately--Luke seems to have them often, and though Dr. Polko said that was a good thing, I also know that sometimes, fetal hiccups can be indicative of distress...especially cord distress...so I feel better when they are gone and he's back to the wiggly little acrobat he usually is!

The closer we get...the more worried I am. The more real it is, the more disappointment I feel I am getting closer to.

Every time I visit Matthew's grave...I just don't believe it will be any different.

My heart breaks. Missing Matthew and sadly, missing Luke.

I know that statement may not make sense, and is probably eliciting lots of, "She needs to think positive...she shouldn't feel like that...that's not healthy....yada yada yada."

All I have to say is that I doubt that would come from anyone who's lost a child. To us, it makes perfect sense.

There was NO, NO, NO reason to think that there would be ANY complications with Matthew...so being in the same boat with Luke is not really any comfort to me. And that's just reality.

I just keep begging God for His mercy and remembering, "This one, she will keep."

Soooo....those feelings and many others are why I have just preferred to internalize. Less judgement. Well-meaning, I know...but judgement nonetheless.

Luke's shower is this Saturday and I'm very, very excited! I'm attaching his sweet little invite and again hope that anyone who is nearby and sees it and would like to come, does. I can't say enough how grateful for the support we've received we are.

Luke, Mommy loves you...I love you, love you, love you and can't wait for the next 7 weeks!

Look at those SWEET cheeks!

Those lips and pout are SO mine!

More pouting and sweet cheeks...always with a little hand to his face!

That elbow is CONSTANTLY jabbing me! I love it!

Here's Luke's update for this week:

I'm still about 17 pounds or so of weight gain...NO SWELLING, Hallelujah!!!! I was about 10 pounds heavier with Matthew, but a lot of that was fluid. I could stand to gain a bit more, but Luke's actually a hair heavier than average, so he's doing just fine! As I said, I actually have a good deal of energy, though it's spent by about 3 in the afternoon! Of course, not sleeping much and getting up at 6:15 every day with John adds to that! Luke loves hearing the sunshine toy and he likes daddy's voice when he reads too!

Exercise? No. Hips and back just can't take it. I'm very active, though, and not overweight...nor need to worry about rough laboring, so, I'm ok with no exercise right now! (Or any day, really!)

Week Thirty One: Baby detects light

You are 31 weeks pregnant. (fetal age 29 weeks) Baby weighs 3.5 pounds and measures 16.5 inches from the head to heel. Baby's weight is about 1.6 kg and length around 42cm. The eyes have now completely opened and are responding to light and darkness. A loud noise near you may cause your little one to jump. Your baby continues to grow. Baby's lungs and digestive tract are very near to being mature. Now that almost all of the major organs are functioning, growth will focus on maturing those organs and growing muscle mass and fat stores. Baby's weight gain will exceed its growth in length from now on. He or she should more than double their weight again between now and birth. It weighs about 3.5 pounds (1.6kg), and crown to rump length is 11 inches (28cm). Its total length is 16.5 inches (42cm). A loud noise near you may cause your little one to jump. Baby may move to the rhythm of music. Studies with heart rates show that they may also prefer some types of music to others at this stage. The eyes can now completely open and the irises are now responsive to light, dilating and contracting as needed. You will probably find that though you have been feeling pretty energetic throughout your second trimester, you are beginning to slow down now. Pay attention to your body's signals and rest when you need to. Exercise is still an important activity for you, even though it gets harder as you get larger and heavier. Try swimming, stretching and walking all excellent options for pregnant women. Your total pregnancy weight gain by this time should be between 21 and 28 pounds (9.5 and 12.5kg).

If....

IF Matthew had lived, giving hand-me-downs to his baby brother would be a no-brainer.

IF Matthew had lived, moving him into a big-boy room and redoing his room to be a nursery for his baby brother would be exciting and fully joyful.

IF Matthew had lived, comparing his activity level in utero to his brother's activity level would be humorous and fun to compare the similarities.

IF Matthew had lived, thinking about what to do for his first birthday would be full of searching for ideas and dreaming of amazing memories of him eating his first birthday cake.

IF Matthew had lived, a 'shower' for Luke would be a given--not because he really 'needs' anything but to celebrate HIS life and give him his OWN things...just like his big brother had!

IF Matthew had lived, there would be so many different things and feelings....

But he didn't...and so while well-meaning, rational and practical statements like, "Well, you'd pass his hand-me downs on anyway," or "Another boy--now that's easy because you're all set!" make sense...trust me, things are far from easy.

Matthew's clothes are not outgrown and lovingly passed...they were never worn because he died. There was no growth. There were no sweet memories of stained spaghetti shirts that his brother will get to play in. There are tubs and tubs of clothes bought for Matthew...and passing hand-me downs on is not the same when the elder sibling never even lived long enough to need clothes.

If Matthew had lived, we'd be telling him that his baby brother is a big wiggle-worm just like he was when he was in mommy's tummy! Now when we make note of what a wiggler Luke is, it's bittersweet...not that Matthew maintains the monopoly on the term 'wiggle-worm' by any means...but when one's child dies, one tries to keep as many things unique to that child as one can. There are so few as it is...

If Matthew had lived, the issue of what to do with the nursery would be non-existent. Matthew would help us pick out all the things for his 'big boy' room and even help us pick out things for baby brother. The room would not always and forever be twinged with what it could have been...what it should have been....Instead of sitting in the rocker with Luke remembering the sweet memories of rocking his brother in the very same chair, no doubt there will be days that I will sit in that chair and wonder how it would have been to rock with Matthew...if Matthew would have felt like Luke did.

While it is true that the nursery is still in brand new condition and eagerly awaiting a baby boy...that baby boy it eagerly awaits is Matthew. Every thing in that room was lovingly and purposefully bought for Matthew. Children are not interchangeable. I cannot just delete Matthew and insert Luke.

Moreover, Luke deserves every bit of excitement and purposeful and loving planning that Matthew had. And he will get it. It's just not as easy.

One of the happiest days of my life was Matthew's shower. We were just abundantly blessed and it was one of those days that was just perfect. It was a day I couldn't wait to tell him about--to share with him how loved he was and how very, very excited so many were to be celebrating his life. Luke deserves a day like that too. He deserves a day that he is celebrated and receives things that were meant just for him. (John actually used the word 'monogrammed'--as in, "Luke needs his own things monogrammed with his name.") He deserves the memories in his baby book that show him his impending arrival brought so much joy to so many people.

But he doesn't 'need' anything. We don't 'need' anything. I thought about having a shower for our local pregnancy center in Luke's honor...and then even felt bad about that--Luke doesn't really 'need' anything because his brother died before he ever used any of his stuff and amazingly the seasons mostly match up--it would seem more like doing something in Matthew's memory than in Luke's honor.

It's all so messy and it gets even messier thinking about how Matthew's birthday is not too far away...and right around the time we'd have a shower for Luke. I know there are still four months, but they haunt me...what do I do for my dead son's first birthday while I am basically a month or so, give or take, away from my second son's LITERAL birthday?

At the beginning of this pregnancy, I felt like I was a ball of multi-colored yarn--all rolled up and messy and just a big tangle of emotions. Honestly, how could I not? In the course of the last 8 months, I have given birth to and buried a baby, and am 4 months pregnant with another. Lots of emotions and things I needed to go through with and for Matthew just had to be shelved because I had a mission--another pregnancy and doing all I could to ensure that his brother or sister would be healthy and happily received and grown.

Lately, I'd been feeling things seemed to be settling down in my life...no IVF protocol, good appointments that each day brought their own little reassurances, focusing on just enjoying every second with Luke....I felt like the ball of yarn was untangling. Less and less did it seem like there were a ton of colors, and all wound up, but more like two colors...and separating into their own individual balls. Matthew and Luke. Mourning Matthew and celebrating Luke. As they've unraveled, I have to admit their intensities have gotten stronger--I've been aching in such a strong way over Matthew, but have been truly falling more and more in love with Luke.

Now I'm starting to feel the yarns tangle again...as hurdles pop up and how to do justice to two the lives of my two little boys is always at the forefront of my mind.

I try not to live in the world of 'If' because I know it's not productive and doesn't change anything.

The truth is though that things that may 'look' easy and sound rational just aren't sometimes...and might have been....

If....

Second Trimester...

We've made it.

Really kind of hard to believe, and I am so very grateful.

Of course...I've been here before too...so while I celebrate every little success in each new day...I know what could happen at any given second.

I've not really felt like writing much.

Well, that's a lie. I have. I've had a lot on my mind and a lot of things to write about and even sort of feel a bit guilty because they are things that I want this little one to know and understand one day.

Just haven't been motivated, for various reasons.

I'm tired of reading blogs where people share their thoughts and feelings and then just get bashed from here and back again for that. It makes me very, very angry for them and considering that there's not much I can do but send the poor criticized person an encouraging word, I just have to pull back.

More than that, I don't feel like having that type of backlash directed at me just because I am honest in my feelings and opinions. Blocking anonymous comments doesn't prohibit the, "I read your blog...and really enjoy it...and think you are amazing....BUT...."

...and then the need to tell the author about how their feelings are wrong; how the author's perspective colors everything and the rest of the world can't be blamed because they don't have that perspective, yada yada yada...

This hasn't happened to me lately, but as I've said, I've been seeing it a lot elsewhere and I just do not understand how people feel they have the right to tell others what they should or shouldn't be feeling.

I'd say 90% of the time I write about something that is frustrating or aggravating to me, I realize that it's probably frustrating and aggravating to me because of MY PERSPECTIVE. MY LIFE EXPERIENCE. MY REALITY.

And I'm usually pretty purposeful in reminding myself that thankfully, most people don't have my perspective and therefore cannot see fully how I look at their specific situations...like complaining about stretch marks or not being able to 'party' any more due to pregnancy.

Yes, I still find those things petty. I did before Matthew died and I won't change that. But I DO realize that it's my perspective that makes me see them as petty....years of infertility and a dead child will do that.

The thing is, this blog is ALL ABOUT my perspective. The way I look at things based on my perspective. My reactions and feelings about things based on my perspective. I've never, ever, EVER claimed to be perfect in my thoughts or opinions and I certainly realize that sometimes, they are pretty jaded and harsh...based on my perspective. I don't need others telling me so and if I do, I am blessed to have a few friends that I trust with my heart and can ask for THEIR perspective on my feelings.

Whether we like it or not, our life experiences affect our perspective.

So...I can't EVER expect someone who has not gone through what I or so many others have to have this perspective....and though that may frustrate me because I wish sometimes they at least understood, I am so glad that the innocence and bliss of so many experiences still exist in this world. It's wonderful, and I miss it.

But I don't think it's fair for me to not be allowed to feel what I feel because of my experience without being told that others just can't know how this feels and I shouldn't be so judgmental.
I know others can't know. That's why I write about my feelings HERE instead of saying everything I WISH I could actually say to real people. I'm not looking to hurt feelings or take the right of others to feel how they feel.

I'm simply documenting my own and don't need to be chastised for it.

And no, this has not recently happened....like I said, I've just seen it in a few other blogs and SO identified with those women being ripped apart for their feelings and I just hate, hate, hate it.

Sometimes I feel like I just ought to make this private because in the same vein, I AM putting things out in a public forum and people DO have the right to comment. I'm in a sense, asking for opinion. I just can't believe that the very same people who tell me my feelings (or the feelings of others) are wrong do so in the name of defending the right of others to feel what they feel.

What about me? Because my child is dead and no one wants to go there, I don't get to have my feelings validated and vent MY frustrations and aggravations? Right or wrong as the may be?


In other news....my mother's birthday was Sunday. She would have been 62. I miss her every day. I wish she was here to talk about all of this. I'd love to know HER perspective.

It's Baby Week this week on Discovery. I was glued to the TV last year. I can't bear to watch this year. I'm grateful for every happy ending. I'm just still so heartbroken for mine not fitting that mold. It's too raw to watch and I don't need any MORE things to worry about. One show/topic I'm particularly unhappy with is the Freebirthing movement. And of course, I'm unhappy with it based on my perspective. We had the best medical care EVER. We had the most AMAZING doctors and nurses from beginning to end. We had absolutely NO REASON to believe we could even POSSIBLY need a NICU.

And our son died.

So I am very, very, very worried, nervous, concerned and yes, even a little angry at what I believe is presumption and a bit of arrogance. In this world, where we are so blessed with the technology we have, to thumb our noses at that technology in the name of an experience vs. doing whatever needs to be done to ensure a safe and healthy delivery....well, I don't get it and I just pray for every one who engages in freebirthing to have both the experience AND the baby. It doesn't always work that way and I just can't justify or see any reason to take chances.

MY opinion. No need to tell me I'm wrong.

I guess I've just been in a funk. My heart still just aches for a few women who are missing their babies right now. I just am so sorry for them. I wish I could do more and yet, I know I can't. That's hard.

I know that soon we will be needing to decide on nursery things.

I'm not ready. I don't want to. I don't see how I'm supposed to take every little decision and piece of my heart put into Matthew's room and magically transform it to the happiest and safest place in the world for his sister or brother. And his sister or brother deserves no less. So, if you'd like something specific to pray for our family for...that would be it. It's not easy for John, either and us having two different ways of looking at it certainly makes it even more complicated.

Yesterday was the 1st day of our 2nd trimester! I'm fairly sure that I'm feeling bits of fluttering here and there...not enough to actually have it last long enough to be completely confident, but knowing what a little acrobat this one is, I'm betting it is. I can't wait for it to get a bit stronger...I thought I felt Matthew around 14-15 weeks and was sure of it at 16-17, so...I'm excited about that. Today I have a regular OB appointment (no pictures!) and then on Monday, we'll get better pictures of the girly/boy bits and know who she/he is!

Here's what's going on this week:

****With me: Still no weight gain and back to 95-96 ish...metallic taste in my mouth is back and though I am often hungry, I have NO DESIRE to eat....no motivation to make anything or put it in my mouth but I am. Thought this was on it's way out, but seems not. I'm very tired and it doesn't take much to make me just need a nice long nap. Grocery shopping's the limit! I'm showing a bit more (and John told me I needed to post more pictures, so I will) but still feel I look more jiggly than pregnant! Waist is still about 31-31.5 inches and I'm still feeling somewhat more confident, but the worry about the previas and acreta is really setting in. I'm going to talk to Dr. Sweeney about that next Monday and see what we can do to eliminate that worry. Nothing, completely, as the vasa previa absolutely would have been found if it could and it wasn't....so there's no guarantee that won't happen this time. Thank GOD for him and his office and them monitoring me so closely. I know I am very, very spoiled with that care.


*****With Baby:

Week Thirteen: Baby flexes and kicks

You are 13 weeks pregnant. (fetal age 11 weeks) The fetus has grown to about 3 inches (8cm) long. Weight approximately 1 ounce (25 grams). Bone is beginning to replace cartilage and the ribs are appearing. The nose and chin are well defined. Movements can be measured. The child will begin to learn to suck its thumb. The child can open and close its mouth. The external genitalia are well defined making it is possible to determine the baby's gender. Your baby is now producing insulin the hormone that controls their blood glucose. The fetus is now 3 inches long and weighs about an ounce. The baby's unique fingerprints are already in place. The muscles lengthen and become organized. You can't feel it yet, but your baby can move in a jerky fashion, flexing the arms and kicking the legs. Your uterus has grown quite a bit. You can probably feel its upper edge above the pubic bone in the lowest part of your abdomen, about 4 inches (10cm) below your bellybutton. At 13 weeks, your uterus fills your pelvis and starts growing upward into your abdomen. It feels like a soft, smooth ball. Soon you will start feeling the first flutters of the unborn child kicking and moving within. The first three months were period of rapid development, next three months will be period of rapid growth. Baby quadruples weight during the 4th month. Your baby is about 2.91 inches (7.4cm) and weighs around 0.81 ounce (23gm).

This and That...

So, being the reader that I am, I have bought a lot of books lately. A lot.
I mean really, a LOT! I think the UPS guy must think I do nothing but shop Amazon on a daily basis. (I sort of do.)

I've bought books on pregnancy loss...faith...Heaven...God's plans...surviving...breathing...you name it, I've probably bought a book about it in the last 11 weeks. I really think I have maintained my sanity the last few months by immersing myself in reading. Between the books I've bought, the non-stop Google searches I make on a regular basis and the blogs I stalk (and discover) daily, I spend a lot of time reading. Again, I emphasize A LOT.

I've made mention that we have gone back to Shady Grove and that Dr. Kiperzstock has recommended we transfer the frozen embryo we were blessed to have left from Matthew's batch. This has obviously led me to have a lot of apprehension as I am very well aware of the one billion and eight (exactly) things that can go wrong and end up very tragically.

All the books, blogs and research say this is to be expected. Even Dr. Kiperzstock himself told me that I was going to worry every single day. He also told me that's what I pay him to do, so I should try to let him as much as I can. Ha ha...I love that all my doctors appreciate and have good senses of humor.

The thing is, there's just no stopping the worry, so I am not even going to try. What I AM going to try doing, though, is being just as joyful, hopeful and expectant about this upcoming cycle and any others we may have to do if this is not successful. I look back to posts a year ago and can feel the excitement and joy I had.

I don't want Matthew's brother or sister to miss out on one bit of the same excitement and joy over his or her impending entrance to our lives. I want every day of his or her life to be infused with nothing but hope.

This is what the books say is tricky, though. The fact is, I have lost the innocence that comes with feeling invincible in pregnancy--that my child is destined to be on this earth for a lifetime and I am destined to raise him. I know that this is just not always the way it goes, even at 40 weeks and 4 days. On the way to the hospital, I remember thinking, "Well...worst-case scenario is that they have to deliver him emergency c-section, but if they have to, they have to."

Yeah, unfortunately, didn't think that one all the way out to REAL worst-case scenario. REAL worst-case scenario is that they DO have to deliver emergency c-section, and he DIES. And because I know that happens, regardless of how rare or uncommon it is, I will have to work on restricting my worry and thoroughly enjoying every second of another pregnancy.

How sad is it that one has to WORK at enjoying one of the most miraculous things in the entire world?

Moreover, how sad is it that one has to work so hard at that WHILE mourning the loss of her precious baby boy?

I know. Very sad.

In any event, in an effort to be excited and positive about Matthew's twin, I want to be sure to document all the goings on.

We saw Dr. Kiperzstock on Tuesday for the mock transfer. It was WAY more uncomfortable than I remember it being last year, but that's due to the fact I have since had a hasty emergency c-section (and not too long ago, either) and things are not as they once were. I am not looking forward to the actual transfer (which has tentatively been scheduled for March 4), because it will be more of the same, only with a very full bladder. Super.

I go in tomorrow for a baseline ultrasound, and will likely begin taking Delestrogen shots every 3rd day until the transfer. I will add progesterone in oil (yuck!) to the mix around the 26th and continue that until the beta test (probably on the 17th). If it is a positive test, I'll continue those for a while. Here's hoping I have to take those shots for a long time.

Two Months...

At least I'm not counting weeks, right?

Sixteen minutes from now would be Matthew's two-month birthday. It feels like it was just hours ago.

I have so many, many things going on in my head...as always. I admit that even though yesterday was such a roller coaster day, overall, I ended it being hopeful.

Today, I got up, got out...saw some of my sweet children of years past (and always in my heart) and ran errands. I found myself thinking, "Maybe I am turning a corner."

Then I found myself feeling TREMENDOUS guilt and apprehension about even making that statement. I remember Dr. Polko telling me a few days after Matthew died that I *would* laugh and feel happy again and it was OK. I shouldn't beat myself up for it and it was nothing I should feel guilty about.
When she said that, I remember thinking, "Of course I won't feel guilty. Of course we are not meant to be miserable every day of our lives. Me smiling or laughing doesn't mean I love or miss Matthew any less."

Easy to say when I didn't feel even close to smiling or laughing. In fact, during the days after Matthew died and after his funeral, I was SO, SO, SO grateful for the dear family we had around us because we LAUGHED! We told stories, we remembered the funny things about our family, and we LAUGHED. I didn't feel the least bit guilty then because we *needed* to have levity and laughter in such a horrible and dark time. I know had we not, we may well have just fallen into a deep hole and not come out.
I think, also, I felt more permission to laugh--people were PURPOSELY trying to cheer me up because they were so worried about me and I, ever the eager-beaver-people-pleaser wanted to oblige to make them feel better too.

Now, though...two months later, I can't believe that I actually *do* feel guilty. Though I know two months have passed, as I said, it still feels like hours ago to me. The pain still feels that raw. And yet, yesterday after the doctor appointment, I found myself almost a little bouncy. Of course, that bounce was stopped dead in its tracks when we got to the cemetery, but...there was bounce before. The guilt in that comes from how easily I bounced at the prospect of being pregnant again. Though I KNOW that joy has nothing to do with my missing Matthew, today, it seems almost disrespectful. How can I be so desperately pained and bouncy at the same time?Here is where I can see the validity in Dr. Polko telling me NOT to be guilty about being happy again. Well--having happy moments, I guess is more what I have been experiencing. She was right though. I would and I do.

How in THE WORLD can I even contemplate happy when I don't have my son with me? How does one even reconcile that concept? Here's where the enemy gets you--"You can't love him *that* much if you are already able to laugh." "So what? He's so disposable that another possible pregnancy fixes it?" "Told you...after a bit it will feel like he was never here at all..." And it goes on...

So, I wrestle with that.

Ever since Matthew died, I have been sleeping even more poorly than before. Duh. However, I've found that when I wake up through the night, as I constantly do, things pop in and stick in my head, over and over, and over and over. At first, the song for his slide show, Visitor From Heaven by Twila Paris was what I would hear every time I woke up, or even had a blank thought in the shower or car or anywhere else. Once that faded, When We All Get To Heaven was the constant repetitive song. It is Well With My Soul lasted several days and Above All was another one. It's not just songs, either. When John and I went to Philadelphia two weeks ago, throughout the night, every time I woke up as I tossed, I heard in my head, "PRAY!" "PRAY!" "PRAY!" It was strong and it was fervent, over and over.
Last night was another night where I had the same, constant and repetitive words going through my head. Great is Thy Faithfulness...over and over, Great is Thy faithfulness...morning by morning, new mercies I see. All I have needed, Thy Hand has provided...Great is Thy faithfulness, Lord, unto me...
And so they have continued throughout the day.

The worst thing (and every day, I find a new one) I am now encountering is that as the time passes, my feelings of connection to Matthew sort of change. They don't disappear, but change. Even though he would be two months old today, in my head, he is still my wiggle-worm, in utero monkey. He's still that precious, soft-skinned little angel I stroked in his isolette, the little angel I hardly got to see or touch. I don't really have a concept of him at two months, and that breaks my heart. And as time goes on, I fear this won't get any better. It hurts too much to imagine what he would be like at certain stages, yet...to keep him as I remember him seems so small to me. I don't know how to describe it.

I know. I'm rambling. I warned of that at the beginning.

How I'd love to know how my life with Matthew would be different if he'd survived. I know how it is now...and it brings me such heartache.

Oh, how I love my precious baby boy.