Last Friday, Lincoln and I had a really great day together, just the two of us. We played people and read stories and ate breakfast across from one another. We went outside in the cold and blew bubbles and buried plastic animals in the sand. I was sore but not terribly so, and I have had lots of help the last weeks.
I have such a beautiful life. I love my children so much I could explode. I was looking at their profiles tonight before bed and their little faces still look like their baby faces. I am so lucky to be their mom and to share my days with them. And guys, I could not do this without my other half. He has done everything in his power to help me and support me and make this easier. There is no other person in the world that understands how I feel better than he does, because he has experienced it all by my side. Sunday at church, the closing song was “count your blessings” and I could NOT get through it without tears. I have SO MUCH to be thankful for!
But I do cry a lot. I cry sometimes in the shower when I’m truly alone. Sometimes I cry when I’m driving, just a little bit so the kids don’t see. I cry when my friends ask how I am doing, or when flowers show up at my door. I cry when Isabelle asks me why our babies have to stay in heaven, and when she asks me if we will ever get to keep a baby. I just can’t believe we have to start over, that we are back where we were nearly nine months ago. And endure another first trimester, no one likes that part. We felt so safe, so in the clear. Between this experience and our experience with Max, there will never be a time that we feel “in the clear” again.
I am REALLY trying to be positive about the situation. REALLY. I do not understand, I don’t know why this is the plan for us. Wednesday after my surgery, we were home. At dinnertime, Jazz went over to my parents’ to get the kids and bring them home. There was a knock at the door- a friend from church…someone who has had more than her fair share of trials. She stood there with her kids, arms full of real homemade food and fresh flowers and buckets of hand me down toys. And I just couldn’t keep it together. People are SO GOOD. We have had so many messages and cards and gifts, I know that everyone is mourning and hurting with us. We feel all of those well wishes and prayers and it is so helpful to know we aren’t alone.
There were some bumps to this pregnancy that we didn’t discuss. One day in December I was in the ER for a few hours because my heart rate was 170 and I was randomly in atrial fibrillation. Have you heard of this? A fib? It means that your heart is not beating in a regular rhythmic pattern. It is not generally for people that are 30 years old. I did a whole cardio workup, ekg, echocardigram, halter monitor for 24 hours, all fine. It was really weird and we checked all my blood work and one of my thyroid chemicals was very very off. We’re keeping an eye on all that to make sure they return to normal. I’m still not considered “high risk”- as far as we know there was nothing abnormal with the pregnancy and it was just one of those things that happens. Total sucky answer but, that’s all I got.
Now what.
We start over. We count the months. Wait out the days. Try not to be too sad. We were 6 months from a fresh baby and now best case scenario, it’s twice that. Maxwell’s birthday is getting nearer I thought for sure I would be nice and pregnant by the time we celebrated his day.
If you have any ideas or if there is something that helped you with grief, please pass it on. This week is much better than last week, and it has been really nice to have the distraction of planning Lincoln’s birthday party. Staying busy helps. I feel more hope this week than last week, and for that I am thankful.
I wish I could speed up the hard parts for you, Mic. No one deserves this much hurt.
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