HAPPY HALLOWEEN

One Year Ago

One year ago today, my daughter died. Sometimes it seems to me as if it has been ten years and not just one. For how is it that life simply goes on? How can I continue to not only function, but enjoy the life I have? Does that make me a bad person? Does that nullify her short existence? Does that make the imprint on my heart any less? Does that make me less of a mother? There are moments in my day where I forget about what happened, where the joy overcomes me with anticipation of these two boys. And then I remember. Almost an electric shock running through my body, whispering her name. Harper. And I feel guilt and joy all in that one second. This past year has been a struggle. It has been an uphill climb through rough and unforgiving terrain. I have lost my way, fallen down, become bruised and battered. I crawled into a dark hole where the only guest invited was my constant companion of regret. Of things gone by. and then one day, I woke up. I moved on. Life is for the living. It is rich in both its sadness and its triumph. Reach out and grab hold. I don't for a minute wish the pain and sorrow that I experienced this past year on anyone, yet I am changed because of it. My priorities have shifted, my gratitude has deepened, my marriage has blossomed, and I have endured. And so maybe that is my daughter's legacy. She left me certainly, but she gave me more than I ever could have imagined. She may have died, but her memory survives.
This post is dedicated to my daughter, Harper. And to all those women out there who are mothers, even though their arms remain empty. You women claim that my writing has helped you heal through your grief.....if you only knew, it was you all that healed me.

Unexpected

I had a doctor's appointment on Wednesday. Just a checkup to look at the babies. Check my cervix. Nothing big, nothing dramatic. Just routine. So I invited my mom.....and my 85 year old grandmother to come. I thought they might enjoy it. So there we are in the sonogram room, me spread eagle on the table, my guests mesmerized by the pictures of the babies. Then the sonographer says to me, your cervix is measuring at 2.25mm. Really? Well, two weeks ago it measured 4.7mm. Should I be worried. She says she doesn't' think so. Then she leaves the room. A minute later, Dr. P walk in. He wants to examine me. He does. Then he frowns. Then I start crying. Then he grabs my hands and tells me that I need to have surgery tomorrow. I need a cervical cerclage placed. It's a small stitch or stitches that loop around the cervix to keep it closed, to keep it from shortening. I ask him, "Well what about work?" He says I'm done. With everything. Bedrest from here on out. There is nothing I can do. I sat there crying, in front of my mom and my grandmother. Terrified of the surgery, yet grateful that there is a procedure to keep the boys in. We hope. And we of course ask for continued prayers. And visitors, and books, and games, and anything else to keep my sanity these next few months.

Against Doctors Orders

About a month ago, I went on eBay and bought a fetal dopplar. Knowing that I was going completely against the orders of my OB and the wishes of my husband. I was cautioned that the dopplars available online are not as accurate as those found in a doctor's office. I was told that it would drive to the brink of insanity because I might not be able to find their heartbeats. Or I might only find one heartbeat. Or at times their heart rate might drop, (which is normal....it's called variability). I didn't listen. I couldn't take it. I was convinced that since I couldn't feel them yet, that they had died. I need confirmation of life. So.....on Wednesday, I put the dopplar on my belly....and I didn't hear a thing. Except for the raucous beating of my own heart. I panicked. I became hysterical. I called Chris at work. I threw up. I just knew that the boys were gone. So I took a Tylenol PM and went to bed. It was 5pm. I didn't sleep. On Thursday morning we had a scheduled doctor's appointment. I didn't want to go. I was convinced that they were going to tell me bad news. I wouldn't look at the screen. Until the tech told me....there they are. I opened my eyes and looked at the screen. There in black and white were our boys. Swimming in their cocoon of amniotic fluid, oblivious to their mother's tears. As soon as I got home.....I threw the dopplar away. Lesson learned.