The Road to Recovery

It’s often thought that after a traumatic pregnancy and delivery, if the baby is born healthy, it’s a happy ending and everything is fine. It’s assumed that we just go back to our normal life. Numerous times, I’ve heard the line, “As long as the you and the baby are alright.” I’ve said it myself 999,000 times. Ultimately it is true. That IS all that ever mattered to me. Fortunately, I got my wish. After a LONG 7 months, me and the baby are alright, mostly.

But, recovery isn’t happening overnight. NOTHING was normal once we walked out of the hospital doors.

It’s those nights when I’m standing next to the bed, and I pause for a moment and close my eyes, **I’m back to that night and all I see is the blood pouring out into a puddle on the ground, sure the baby was gone, and wondering if I would be too. How would I survive another miscarriage? How would my children would survive without me. How would Kari feel when I wasn’t there on her first day of school? How would John care for them and work? How would their lives be so disrupted at such a young age? How would John take it? My parents? What if I didn’t make it. What if I die now?** Then I’m back to reality, climbing in bed only to lay awake and wonder “What if I die now?” “What if I crash tomorrow and I don’t make it” “I should really make a plan.” “Maybe I should write a letter for future special dates that I might miss.” “They’re only kids, this can’t happen!” but the reality is, it does everyday…….no sleep tonight…

It’s those days when I’m walking past the kitchen door, and stop to look for a moment. and my thoughts carry me away, **standing there, acting as normal and as calm as could be, hugging the girls goodbye before school, telling them I loved them an extra time or 2. Feeling the gushes of blood. Watching them walk to the car and get in, knowing full well, it could be the last time I ever see them. What if I bleed to death? What if the baby doesn’t make it? She’s not moving! The contractions are awful! I need to hurry and get Haylie ready before something bad happens and no one even knows to come and get her…. to the hospital we go…** Back to reality…. Life is fragile, we never know when we say goodbye in the morning if we’ll ever see one another again. What if we never see each other again?…. day is ruined thinking of scenarios that might take us apart.

Its the times I look at my children and barely recognize them, I’ve missed nearly a year of their life with bedrest and hospital stays. I’ll never get that time back. Staring into their eyes takes me back **I’m sitting in the hospital bed, waiting for a picture of their Christmas concert. Waiting to hear how it went. It’s the first thing I’ve ever missed. How do they feel about me not being there? *tears* How do they feel about me not being home to greet them after school? Haylie’s growing so fast, she says words she didn’t say when I first came into the hospital. I’m missing everything.”** Snapping out of it, I think to myself, “What if I die, how will they feel, I’ll miss everything forever. Life is fragile. I better check to make sure the kids are still breathing”

It’s the days when John walks out the door and as I watch him leave I’m gone..**hugging him in the doorway of my hospital room, crying because we’ve never been apart longer than a few days. Being so desperate for him to just hold me because I’m scared and I’m alone, knowing he has to go. Telling him I can’t do this and I just want it to stop. I want it to be over. Clinging to his every word as he told me If anyone could do it I could, that I would get my baby, we where safe. Just x amount of weeks and x amount of days left.** Back to reality. “what if John leaves someday and something bad happens… what if he doesn’t come back. I can’t”

It’s those days when I’m sitting on the couch watching TV and I drift off, back to those days, **laying in a hospital bed, wondering how I would ever be able to hold my dead baby. imagining her cold blue body wrapped up in a blanket laying on my chest. How could I put her in the ground? She’s so tiny and perfect. Why do they even need to make a casket so small?! This is terrible! How would I explain this to her sisters? Who would I invite to the services? anyone? What would a baby wear? Why do I have to say goodbye so soon?”** I thought these literal thoughts every single day of my pregnancy. Then I’m back to reality, thinking back to the time when I held Elizabeth’s blue lifeless body after she drown… and helicopters, hospitals…. “I better check to make sure my kids are breathing”….

It’s those nights when I see a picture of an old couple in love and I go back **I’m standing in the elevator, walking across the cafeteria, an elderly man and women clearly madly in love. The elderly man is sick, terribly sick, all he wants to do is pay for his wife’s food. It’s such a chore for him You could feel the pain in her eyes. My heart is completely broken for her. I’m sick, I don’t want lunch anymore. I’m walking back to my hospital room, through the pediatric floor…..** back to now, thinking to myself, What if John and I spend the next 50 years together and then I loose him… what if we are the elderly couple…. I wont sleep tonight..

I’m rocking Meredith to sleep at night, and I go back…** She’s finally here, I can’t believe it, She’s alive! 24 hours later, I have a living breathing baby, I will never let her go. I’m scheduled for surgery in the morning, but I can’t put her down. It’s the last time I’ll ever feel the happiness of a brand new baby. I need this moment!** and then **I’m being woken by the nurse to prepare for surgery. I’m so tired, I’m in so much pain. I’ve been awake all night, I just want to sleep. I don’t want to do this. I don’t want to leave my baby. I have too. I have to do this. I promised my mom I would. I have too. I’m just sooo tired. and then we’re walking back to surgery. I’m on a freezing cold table. wide awake, dead from the waste down, while they cut up my chances of ever having another baby.** back to reality. I’m sad, I’ll never snuggle a little baby again. Or smell their sweet hair. I’ll never see another toothless smile….. It’s all over… My kids are growing so fast. Soon they will all be gone and my life will be empty… I can’t……and I put Meredith down. Each milestone she reaches, I want to be happy, but its always overtaken with sadness. I’m missing everything…..

 

In a way I am thankful for this time. It allowed me to find myself and see so many things. It made me more compassionate and loving towards people in general, you never know what they are facing. It made me count my blessings over and over again. It made me thankful. It made me patient. It made me appreciate everything on a higher level. It made me realize how the small things just don’t matter (which is also a curse). However, it also showed me how delicate life truly is, and how quickly it can be taken away. It made me realize I could loose any person I love in an instant, and the thought of death is constantly looming over me, along with grief and regret. The flashbacks are so real, and now the feelings are able to be processed without the adrenaline I had when I was actually going through them. It made things that I used to find enjoyable seem silly and pointless. It disconnected many of my relationships because people just don’t understand. The anxiety drags me down, but I am confident, that I will get through this. I will have my life back. I will watch my kids grow up and be happily. I know we’ll get there, but it’s going to be a long hard road and for now, I’m just in survival mode.

 

These are the best days of my life…

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At any given moment, I’m drowning in laundry. Truck loads that need to be washed, equal amounts that need folded and put away. There is never a time when the dishes are all clean. Usually, there is a mountain of them stacked in the sink despite the fact that I just washed them. I could pick up toys all day long and still have more to trip over (or step on and kill my foot! Ouch!) I shut the refrigerator door and clean up “trash” off of my floor more times in a day than I can count. I don’t even bother putting my broom and mop away anymore.

I have what seems like 2 billion appointments to attend, which requires an hour of dressing, changing, packing, and lugging children out the door to strap them all into a car seat. (that alone is a good 15 minutes) Then I get to drive my super duper cool mini van that I traded my awesome sporty car for and finally upon arrival, I get to wrestle children until it’s time to pack them back into the car and go home.

I never have a second alone. Someone always needs something. It’s been years since I went to the bathroom to pee by myself. I haven’t slept alone in just as long. I have learned that cold food isn’t as gross as you would think. Some days going to the grocery store is equivalent to a Hawaiian vacation.

The amount of noise around here is crazy it could be used as torture treatments. Hours and hours of bickering and arguing between children, people competing to see who can turn their electronic device up the loudest, and a baby who cries inconsolably hours sometimes. Some days I feel like I won’t survive another minute. Then the word Mom….. Mom… Mom… Mommy! Motherrrrr! Mommmmy! Momma! Broken records I tell you! (I thought about changing my title)

My nice teenage body is longgg gone. I have more flab than I can even express. I’ve gained a good 40lbs and also lots and lots of stretch marks. (I have to admit, I love the stretch marks! I earned every single one) I haven’t had time for hair in makeup in half a decade and my wardrobe is best described as frumpy?

Some of my children wake up at 5:30 in the morning, some at 7, and the last at 9am just in time for the early riser to take a nap. Between the 4 of them, I haven’t had a full nights sleep in 7 years. I never in my life imagined I could survive on 5 hours of sleep a night.

All that said, it’s not a wonder that the people who spot me in the wild are inspired to tell me “It goes by so fast.” “I feel for you, at least you can smile through it” “Hang in there! It won’t last forever”. I know they mean well, but I hate those lines.

The truth is, that I already know. I already know time is the enemy. I know I’m going to blink and my kids won’t need me anymore. The laundry will be done and so will the dishes. I’ll remember what sleep and hot meals are. It’s possible I might also be able to ditch the “mommy mobile” I hate it! I don’t even want to think of those days. These years of motherhood have been the best of my life. Everyday is a new adventure, a new project, something else to conquer. I have a purpose. My life is meaningful and progressive. Magical and amazing.

I love watching my belly grow with a life I made. I love the baby snuggles. I love watching them grow into their personalities and become productive members of society. I love all the good, all the bad, and all the ugly.

Everyone has dreams, to be a nurse, to be a rockstar, a lawyer.. anything! This is my dream. I worked so hard to get here. It’s almost surreal that I’m living it. every. single. day. I never want to wake up.

unfortunately…..

The clock is ticking….

And it will all be gone far. too. soon.

 

Miracle. There is hope.

 

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When I was pregnant with Meredith I was told I had an Extra large Subcorionic hemorrhage and the outcome would likely be very bad. I was told she had a slim chance of even surviving and if she did she would be born early and have *insert huge list of problems*. I came home and searched the Internet for positive outcomes. Surely someone somewhere had a happy ending! If I was going to find a glimmer of hope anywhere it would be the Internet. So I searched and searched and searched. Not 1 happy ending. Not one. So I want to share mine. I want my story to be someone’s glimmer of hope.

A Subcorionic hemorrhage is a collection of blood near the placenta in the outer fetal membrane, or between the uterus and placenta itself. It is the most common abnormality found with ultrasound in the early weeks. Chances of the baby surviving depends on the size of the clot, and the age of the baby. The bigger the clot the less chance of survival. The smaller the baby the less chance of survival. My clot was 8cmx8cm extremely large and my baby was 8 weeks. Extremely small.

It started when I was was 8 weeks pregnant. I had not yet been to a doctor and I didn’t even know how far along I was, I thought I was closer to 6 weeks. (Later found out I was right and the doctor was wrong) The scariest thing a pregnant women can see is blood. It literally makes your heart sink. So, when I stood up from the couch and felt like my period had started, I instantly freaked out. I went to the bathroom to of course find blood. A lot of blood. My heart sank and I felt a million different emotions especially having just lost a baby. I got dressed and went to the hospital. After what seemed like an eternity they did an ultrasound and found a heartbeat. I really couldn’t understand how it was possible with so much blood but it was! I was relieved. They told me I had a Subcorionic Hemorrhage and to see my doctor in a week. The bleeding had slowed down and I went home.

Hours after being home I stood up from bed to pee and again I started bleeding. This time so much that you could hear the blood hitting the floor. I was scared and tired. Against my better judgement I laid down in bed and just thought to myself, “I don’t want to die, what about my kids, they can’t grow up without me. I can’t survive another miscarriage. How am I going to do this.” I was freezing cold and covered up with 3 blankets and a hoodie. I drifted off to sleep and woke 3 more times covered in blood. Luckily, the bleeding had slowed down by morning and I KNEW I lost the baby. I was so work out I just wanted it over. I called the doctor to tell her about the bleeding and she was very concerned about the blood loss and was also convinced I miscarried. She made me an emergency appointment an hour later and I went in. She did another ultrasound to see what was going on. She prepared me by telling me it was probable that the baby was gone, it was nothing I did etc. I prepared myself mentally to hear that there was no heartbeat again. Instead, there was the little bean and a nice strong heartbeat. I’m not sure who was more shocked, me, or her. She told me it was a good sign but not to get my hopes up. My SCH was huge and my baby was small. The odds definitely where not in my favor. She sent me home and told me to return in a week.

Through the following week I continued to bleed just like I had my period. Every day I was haunted with the fact that I would probably loose my baby. A week went by and we saw her heartbeat again. The bleeding continued… Week after week I bled. Week after week she lived.

By 14 weeks my doctor decided to give her a chance, she scheduled me an appointment with Maternal fetal medicine specialist and started treating me like a normal OB patient. I went to my MFM appointment to have another ultrasound and be faced with another odd against us. The clot was smack dab in the middle of her placenta. It was likely that it would cut off her nutrition and she would basically die from being deprived of nutrition. If by chance she didn’t die, she faced an early birth and lots of problems. I hated my body. I feared I would loose her every day, and now I feared it wouldn’t even be short and sweet for her.

I continued bleeding, as viability got closer I got more scared. I felt like there was no way I could hold my dead baby. I had researched how they would deliver her if she didn’t make it. I reserched what to expect. Time went by. I was hospitalized twice more with serious major bleeds. Like the kind where the bathroom looked like a slaughterhouse. Each time I was told there wasn’t anything they could do (because as long as the baby had a heartbeat I wasn’t letting them have her!!!) They warned me that the bigger she got, I was putting my own life on the line too. I was at risk for placental abruption. Placental abruption is when the placenta pulls away from the uterus. It could ultimately result in the baby suffocating and me bleeding to death. Living 30 minutes from any hospital that could perform immediate surgery meant that it was likely both of us would die in the event of a full abruption. I chose to take my chances. They gave me a few warning signs that would hopefully appear first and sent me on my way.

I hit “viability” and was immediately given beta methadone shots to help the babies lungs and prepare for early delivery. Again and again I was warned that we could both die in the event of an abruption. I was warned that the baby was likely not to make it anyway because she would likely be born way too soon. Everyday I was convinced I was going to loose her. I tried to make peace with loosing her, I planned how her funeral would be, I planned that I would take a million pictures to remember her by and cut a lock of her hair. I thought of how I would tell her sisters and how I would let them meet her. I reserched how they would deliver her if she passed and tried to imagine how I could deal with holding her cold lifeless body. I began grieving her death before she was even born. I tried to plan what would happen if I died with her. It was so much for me to wrap my head around, too much really. Every single day until she was born.

I bled every single day but at 26 weeks on the dot, the bleeding got bad. The contractions started. I made the call to have my husband rush me the closest hospital that was capable of taking care of us. I prayed the entire way. When I arrived they hooked me up and confirmed that the baby was ok, that I was contracting, and I was also abrupting. Luckily they didn’t jump the gun. They decided to stabilize me and ship me out to a hospital with a NICU ASAP. They sent the head nurse with me for the ride.

When I arrived there, they checked me over and put me on bedrest. They got the bleeding and contractions under control and admitted me until farther notice. My placenta had not fully abrupted so the baby could stay in longer. Over the weeks I stayed there I had blood drawn every 3 days to be cross and matched so they would have blood on hand for me. I was given iron transfusions in preperation for the blood loss at delivery. The pediatricians came in to explain what problems she could face if she where to be born. I signed the concent for my emergency c section when the time came. I laid there and I waited. I was able to tour the NICU. Such a sad place. My room was right over top of the entrance to the children’s hospital, where day after day half full stretchers of sick kids where brought in. Day after day I would hear on the speakers the call for rapid response team on peds floor. I was able to hear the chatter in the hall on the maternity floor, fetal demise in the room down the hall. 24 weeker born too soon. Moms leaving without their babies. When I was allowed to walk, I went to the cafeteria, it was on the cancer unit. Another sad place to be. I missed my kids. I missed my husband. I felt like my heart was ripped out every 5 minutes. A hospital is so emotionally draining. Day after day.

They decided I was stable enough to go home for Christmas. That was even more worry. Again too far from a hospital. Again scared to death for my babies life and my own. I counted down the days and prayed for her to hang on just a little longer. I had my last round of betamethazone and finally at 32 weeks started to believe I might get a baby. MIGHT.

They set my induction for 37 weeks. All of them in shock that I even made it that far. All that bedrest I was dilated to zero. They did my cross and match. They had the blood bank prepare my blood. They placed me in the delivery room straight across from the OR and we got started. Cirvidil for 12 hours. Then my water broke. The blood gushed with every contraction. I had my epidural and pitocin in hopes we could get this over with soon. We didn’t tolerate the pitocin and I started to pass out. The baby’s heart rate started to bottom out so a team of nurses and doctors rushed in. They flushed my system and put oxygen on me. They started amnio ifusions (pumping water in to cushion the baby). My epidural stopped working and the pain was insane. The bleeding was insane. Hours of doctors standing over me. Finally it was time to push. One push and she was out. No crying. They quickly cut her cord and started to work on her. She had swallowed a lot of blood. They suctioned her and suctioned her until she finally started crying. I was so weak I shook for hours. I was in denial and I couldn’t believe she was finally here. She was alive. She proved everyone wrong. She was a happy ending. There are happy endings It was long and it was hard but it was worth it. My Miracle. I hope  our story offers some hope. Sometimes the doctors leave us with very little, but God can pull us through.

 

 

 

A year ago, today… I remember… 

 

1 year ago today, I laid down on a freezing cold ultrasound table with my puffy belly exposed, and I looked at a silent and still baby. No words needed to be said, because I knew, but I heard the worst, most painful words I’ve ever heard. “There is no heartbeat”.

Today I can still remember that moment like it was 15 seconds ago, and I can still feel the raw pain my heart felt. I remember the text to my husband and the look on his face when I made it to his loving arms. I remember him standing by my side as I laid in the hospital for the entire night. I can still picture the way the room looked and how his hand felt holding mine. I remember the hour before my surgery, knowing our baby was gone but laying my hand on my belly to appreciate the last moments I’d hold her. I remember the tears as my husband and I kissed goodbye before I was wheeled to surgery. Most of all, I remember waking up after our baby was pulled from my body and feeling so empty. The empty feeling was the worst. I remember the days following, answering the million questions my older children asked me. I remember them telling everyone we met, that our baby didn’t make it. A year later and they won’t hesitate to tell you We have 5 children. I was never prepared for how much it would hurt them too. I remember my husbands warm embrace being the only thing that held me together in the weeks and months that followed.
This year has been truely defining. It is amazing how much a person so small can change our lives so much. I’ve learned just how fragile a life can be (and also through the birth of Meredith, just how resilient it can be also.) I learned how much control I don’t have. I learned who my friends are. I learned just how much one heart can break.

This year has been a journey. A very long hard one. From loosing our sweet baby to our very complicated pregnancy after loss. Our Storm was followed by a rainbow, but there will always be scars. We will always hurt for the baby we can only hold in our hearts. Grief is unending. It doesn’t get better, we just learn to live with it.

and what got me through was to know our beautiful baby knew nothing but love. I held her every second of her life and “to think, when her little eyes opened, the first thing she saw was the face of Jesus” 

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The last picture we have of our baby living.

 

A gestational doll that is the size and weight of our baby. 14 weeks.

 

 

 

Rambley, Updateish, I can’t sleep, doesn’t make sense post! 

Since all of my blog followers do not read my Facebook, I occasionally give a life update and what not. Especially times like now when you haven’t heard from me in a  really long time!!

First of all, Hi new followers!  *waves* Glad to have you!

Second, Hello Facebook friends who have made your way here because my blog posts now post directly to Facebook automatically as soon as they’re published! 🙂

Now, update!

It is unfortunate that I started this blog last year after I had a miscarriage. I wanted to share my story and hear the stories of others. I have met sooooo many wonderful people over this past year and I’ve gained many new followers. I’ve also expanded my blog to more than just miscarriage awareness.

That being said, one of the new things I’ve been doing here on my blog is item reviews. I’m kind of curious to know how my followers are feeling about them? I have recently been in a really indifferent mood and haven’t applied for many new things to review so those will be tapering off some for now.

Another new thing some of you might have noticed was my post about depression and the new “section” for Anxiety/Depression/PPD. I intend to keep adding to that. Most people never knew those things where an issue for me, but I think it’s very important to raise some awareness there. It happens to be one of the loneliest feelings and It helps to know you’re not alone. It’s also very easy to write about at the moment because it’s the roller coaster I’m currently riding.

Im feeling like I want to push myself to also add something inspirational to my blog weekly as well. Sometimes I’m not feeling very inspirational, but it’s always good to look at things from the more positive prospective and to share with others!

As for myself, we are exactly 1 week away from the 1 year anniversary of when we lost our sweet baby. This has hands down been the hardest year of my life. From loosing the baby, to pregnancy after loss, to the million complications during that pregnancy, tubal ligation, beating myself to death with regret and the extra kick of major PPD. I’ve been crazy overwhelmed and super antisocial.

On a more positive note! I recently found a company called Lularoe! They make some super comfy clothing from sizes xxs to 3xl and they’re all about body love! This was actually the perfect time for me to find them because I just had a baby and I’m not feeling too cute! These clothes have made a difference, so much that I intend to write an entire post about them as soon as I get some good pictures! 😊

I guess I never actually posted on my blog that I had bought a house! So here is my great announcement! I’m a homeowner now! Only took me 7 years to take the leap! Ha! :p  It was literally right before I was admitted to the hospital for my long stay. I haven’t had a chance to get things put in their places yet! This has also been driving me crazy!!! So I’m looking forward to some major spring cleaning and a yard sale in the near Future!

So anyway! It’s late, I’m tired, but my brain isn’t having this sleep thing, so I’m rambling! If you’ve made it this far, you’re awesome! Thanks for listening/reading/whatever. I will think of some fresh goodness to liven things up around here very soon! (Feel free to leave ideas) I’m off too bed to catch some Zzz’s I hope!
PS! I have lived in sweats and Tees for the past 7 years! Someone tell me how to wear leggings! Do’s and Donts etc! 

Because, Tonight I Miss You… 


Today I was looking at our beautiful brand new family picture hanging on the wall. It was just so incomplete because you where not there. Our picture looks happy, but my heart was broke. It hurt that someone was missing. You, where missing.
At this time last year your little heart was beating and you where growing like a weed. We saw your cute chubby legs at our ultrasound, and got tons of pictures. Sadly it was the last time we got to see you alive.

I still remember every detail of the day God took you home. I remember the picture on the screen, of our perfect little baby curled up and still. I remember the moment I lost my breathe because I knew. I remember the ultrasound techs voice and her words “I can’t find a heartbeat”. I remember the doctors shocked look. I remember telling your daddy that this time, it wasn’t going to be okay. I remember the long drive to the hospital where you would be born. and I remember most, the empty painful feeling when I woke up after surgery.

Your big sisters miss you too. They take every opportunity to talk about you and remind everyone that you are a part of us. When people mention our family of 4 kids, your big sisters quickly remind them we have 5. You might have only been here for a short time, but you’ve changed all of our lives.

Your baby sister made her way into our lives just 7 short weeks ago. I often wonder if you’ve met her before she came earth side. She smiles so much in her sleep. (She even laughed out loud while sleeping one day!) I like to think her dreams are of playing with you.

People tell me that all of this was meant to be, that there was a purpose and a reason. I get so angry. I haven’t been able to make sense of it yet. I probably never will.

We should be celebrating your first Easter, your new tooth coming in, your beautiful little smile, and the cutest little baby laugh. However instead, we’re just 3 short weeks away from marking 1 year since you’ve been gone.

It has been a very long year, and a very long journey. Our family picture will never be complete, but that’s alright because until I can hold you in my arms again, I’ll hold you in my heart. You’ll never be far.

It’s a lot of rambling. I know, but I’m writing because, tonight I miss you way too much….
I love you so very much sweet baby.

❤ Momma

Foot File Review

  

This is a very nice foot file. It actually works on my feet which is a miracle. I Wear flip flops all summer long, and part of the winter too. My feet are awful.
It includes, an additional file, batteries, and a brush for cleaning. It also comes with a cap on top.
I was able to tell a huge difference in my feet in just a moment or 2. This works quickly and takes very little effort.
The only thing I wish I could change is that this isn’t rechargeable. But it’s the only foot file I’ve found that actually works, so I can deal with that.
I included before and after photos to show just how well this works!
I recieved this product at a deep discount in exchange for my honest review. All opinions are 100% my own.

Find it here: http://www.amazon.com/dp/B01C7P3EHQ