Sam is an angel that was brought into my life. Here is our journey back home...

Sam is an angel that was brought into my life. Here is our journey back home...

Saturday, June 30, 2012

As promised…

These are the two outfits I've been working on. Hope you like them as much as I do. I have one more to do of the pink one but different material.
Next is a tutu outfit for Michalina because of course now she wants one too. Then baby legwarmers.
Wish me luck!

Thursday, June 28, 2012

Confessions of THIS baby loss mama...


I must confess...
I am more prepared mentally, emotionally, and physically for this baby to die than I am for her to come home.

I know that sound morbid and sad, but that is my reality. That is the reality of many other mothers who have lost an infant. I mean I am ready; I know what outfit she would be buried in, I know that the cemetery has agreed to let her be buried with Sam if need be, I know the plaster impression kit I will bring to the hospital, I know who to call for pictures, I know what will happen as time goes on in the hospital, I know how it will feel to walk out with a box instead of a baby, and I know who I want contacted. Even though I know both a living and a dead baby experience, it's the worst experience that sticks with me. Don't get me wrong I remember what it was like to bring my daughter home, but not bringing my son home is more fresh in my mind. I know that there is no make up time with a baby that never comes home with you. I know that the hours spend with a still baby is precious and the only moments I will ever get. The moments that have to last me a lifetime. 

With only weeks away I am finally making a conscious decision to "get ready" for this baby. It is crunch time. We may be meeting this baby in a bit more than 2 weeks if I induce. This has been really hard on me. I think and I am reminded of all the things I did leading up to Sam's birth. I did a ton of stuff for Sam. Every time I was out and about I was searching for cute little boy things, whether it was clothes or baby accessories. With this baby, I have steered clear of the baby section and try hard not to look at all of the newborn stuff. Maybe it is out of instinctive protection of my heart or maybe it is out of frugalness to not load up on things  that may go to waste. In my leap of faith to "prepare" I have done things for her knowing it may be the only thing I buy/make for her. 

A few weeks ago Michalina and I spent a while in Sam's bedroom just reading books, talking and playing. I don't know why, but it was something we did and enjoyed. I sat in the glider, in his room, for quite a while. I sat there and rocked staring at the crib filled with his clothes that were never put away, never worn. As I rocked it was apparent how comforting it was to be in his room, with his things, his stagnant dream. I was surround by Sam in a room he never was in. I knew then that I needed a room for this baby. Just in case she didn't come home, I would have a place, besides the mausoleum, to visit and be comforted by her. 

So, it began.

I told my husband about my thoughts when he got home. Although it took some time we have been slowly moving things into and out of the rooms. We are keeping Sam's room and turning the office in to the new baby's room. Of course, we will be moving the crib, bookcase, and dresser into the baby's room. But nonetheless, Sam's room will remain the same. We are too attached to his room to paint over or wipe it clean. I remember spending hours painting his room and making sure it was just right of our first little boy that to remove that would be too much. We have been moving very slow at this. We have not yet put his clothes away and have not moved the crib. When we started moving things I took pictures and cried like a baby. It was hard to do. I felt like I was disappointing him, like I was forgetting him and moving on. Of course, none of that is true. I will never forget my first born son, I have not moved on. Sam is forever a part of my heart and my life, I am living not moving on. 

Besides preparing a room for the new baby I have made some things for her. I had searched here and there for a cute outfit to put her in at the hospital and never had any luck. There was one that I liked I just couldn't bring myself to actually buy it. So....I have made two outfits so far. I will have to post the pictures when the second is completed-I have one thing left to do. I made these outfits knowing she may wear them once or multiple times. I have prepared myself for that mentally. I am content with that. 

However, other than two outfits and a room transition started, I have nothing ready for her homecoming. I hope that I am frantic when we get home trying to figure out what to dress her in. I hope that all of Sam's diaper's and wipes will be used for her. I hope I will be able to set up the bassinet beside my bed. 

But I know...

I have no control over her fate and the plan that waits. 

Tuesday, June 19, 2012

Memories and Moments

I relived some memories today. Memories I didn't expect to effect me like they did. The last time I was in the birthing unit at the hospital I delivered both my children at, I was given the news that would change my life forever. I was nervous going there and the days leading up to my appointment there but I didn't think i would step off the elevator and feel my heart thumping all the way down in my feet.

We had a scheduled BPP today. Not because there is anything wrong but because I'm trying to do everything in my power to monitor this baby.

We entered room 312 for our NST and a brief conversation with a nurse that was as sweet as pie. She could see our pain and sorrow. She made a note on our file to keep us out of room
310, the room we spent 24 hours with the news that our precious boy was not coming home with us. She held my hand as I sat there and cried. She hugged me when I needed it and reassured me she would do what she needed to to make us comfortable.

I laid there hooked up to the monitors and watched as the baby accelerated and decelerated as I calmed down. When I first arrived, the baby illustrated my stress and anxiety with high peaks and no relaxation. I was able to calm down enough to get a fantastic NST reading and an 8 out of 8 on the BPP.

Being back in those rooms felt like I was drowning in a sea of grief and pain. I stared at myself in the mirror in the bathroom glaring at the gown. That gown took me right back to the moments of excitement before i delivered Sam.

Moments before my world came crumbling down around me.

Crying knowing I was going to be strapped on the bed for monitoring just the same as I did, again moments, before my world was shattered.

Moments.

These moments that meant nothing to me a year ago are not marked by the death of my son.

Moments of excitement quickly, I mean quickly, followed by gut wrenching news.

All in all I'm glad I was able to enter the birthing unit and the rooms that gave me such agony before I deliver this baby. It gave me a test run I never could imagine. I felt comfortable, uneasy, and anxious all at the same time today.

Moments I anticipate.
Moments I will never forget.

Wednesday, June 6, 2012

What do you say...Michalina-ism

What do you say to your four year old who mentions this out of the blue...

"Mom, when I go to heaven can my body go in Sam's wall with him?"
Yes, baby you can.
"Daddy and the workers are going to have to smash the square with Sam's name on it so it says Michalina and Sam"
Yes, honey they will change it for you. 
"Mom, I don't want to be in a box. Don't put me in a box, Okay? So, I can play with my Jesse doll."
 Why
"Well, I can't play with my Jesse doll if I'm in a box. So don't put me in one, okay"
Okay
"But you have to dress me. Dress me real pretty."
As tears roll down my face at the thought of this process...
Can we not talk about this anymore?
"Okay Mommy."

How does a four year old have such an old soul? Why does she have to experience and think about these possibilities? Four year old shouldn't have to think or request where they want their bodies to be buried when they die.

But that's my four year old's reality. God, it kills a little piece of me every time she talks like this.

This is my normal.
This is her normal.

This is our reality.

How do you find a path through that?
It's a long journey....