Another week

Today I am 22 weeks pregnant. I was 21 weeks and 6 days with Harper. So certainly this is a milestone. A huge accomplishment. As each week progresses and then passes, I reward myself with looking at online pregnancy site. What can the fetus do at 16, 18, 20 weeks etc.? At 22 weeks, my boys are roughly weighing in at a pound. They are about 11 inches long. They have cycles now of wake and sleep. They can suck their thumb. They can are developing taste buds. They have started to grow hair, both on their bodies and on their heads. They have developed the sense of touch. All these amazing things, yet one pivotal thing remains missing. They still cannot live outside the womb. People ask me all the time if I'm excited. Have we named them? Have we bought anything blue? And each time I respond with the same answer. I will get excited when I reach viability. I know certainly that this is not the healthiest most optimistic attitude, but it is simply vital to my well being. For in my own mind, I think that if I don't name them, don't get excited, then if tragedy strikes yet again.....it won't hurt as badly. There are times in my more lucid and logical moments that I wonder if my remoteness affects these boys. If I send out negativity thus making my body some kind of hostile environment. And certainly everybody has an opinion. Telling me to relax. Enjoy. Revel in the miracle of pregnancy. Ha. I did that last time. And the only thing I was reveling in was my own grief. For my arms were empty and my heart broken. Call me a doubting Thomas, call me what you will. But don't judge me. Truth be told, I would sell my soul to see my boys take their first breath. But for now, I wait. And when I feel one of them kicking me defiantly, stating their presence, I simply put my hand over that spot and lift up every prayer I've ever known.

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.

Blue

It's official, in a family surrounded by women and beautiful little girls, I am having two boys! To say that I was shocked was a gross understatement. Two boys. What in the world are we going to do with two little boys? What about pink hairbows and tutus? Barbies and dolls? I know nothing about dump trucks and matchbox cars. Does this mean that I will have to become acquainted with all the football teams and their corresponding statistics? Who will go shopping with me? And get pedicures with me? Yet even as the ultrasound tech told us the news, I was overwhelmed with awe. With gratitude. With a future that is going to loud and rowdy. Ultimately I didn't care what we were having, I simply wanted my arms and heart to be full. And I am excited, I am grateful for these gifts. I close my eyes and can see my family. All four of us....and I know that we are blessed. So here it goes, blue X 2!
Again....please keep us all in your prayers. And have a blessed week.

Suprise

A little announcement.....well, two little announcements. This March we will be adding two little people to our family. We are expecting twins! The elation that we feel is tempered only by the fear that we hold in our hearts. We have been down this road before....and it didn't end the way we had hoped for. We found ourselves adrift in a black hole of despair. It was a road that I never wanted to travel down again. Yet in the back of our minds, in the recesses of our hearts, we still hoped for a family. When we found out that we were pregnant with twins, I immediately began crying. Doubts began to overwhelm me. What if? I couldn't lose another baby. Emotionally, I could not overcome the sadness that almost swallowed me whole. I looked up at Chris, barely able to catch my breath and saw his bright shining eyes. Never wavering from mine, so full of pride and love. And then I felt the doctor's hand cover mine. And he simply said, "Sometimes, God gives them back."

As we begin this journey, and it will be a rough one, please keep us in your prayers. All 4 of us.