Sometimes I feel like life is running away without me. I can't fully describe the feeling but it's almost like my life has ground to a halt whilst the rest of the world carries on on around me. I have lost count of the number of people I know who have had babies, announced pregnancies or both, since Emilie died and whilst I'm happy for them it highlights my pain more profoundly. Because I have Sam, I spend alot of time around babies and young children that I don't know at groups and children's play centres and because I love my friends I spend time with their babies and children and enjoy doing this. It's the babies I don't know that I struggle with-the ones that I have no relationship with yet find myself staring at when I see them. I find myself desperate to tell their parents that I have 2 children. That my daughter would be their daughter's age. It's almost as if I feel the need to validate her existence - to prove that she was here.
The need to validate Emilie's existence is a very real one and is something that other people who have lost children have told me is normal and healthy. I think there is sometimes a lack of understanding, when families lose a child, that the loss isn't just of a baby or child but of everything that that child would do/achieve over the years. It's a loss of every photographic memory, every grazed knee, every school play and every birthday. We have some friends for whom this is too painful an experience and they don't know what to say/do so they have backed away from us. My understanding is this this is completely normal when someone has lost a child. People get so overwhelmed by the feelings and are so unsure how to approach the person that has suffered the loss that they find it easier to keep their distance. I can see how isolating this could make people feel - especially if they have no living children and find themselves suddenly detached from a group of friends with children. Our lives have changed completely and there are some days that the loneliness I feel from going through this isolating situation completely overwhelms me. We are very lucky though, to have other friends who have carried us through this time. They have been happy to listen to us, cry with us and reminisce with us. If our situation has upset them they haven't let on and I don't know how we would be surviving without such wonderful friends.
The sense of isolation we feel is lessened, not only by our wonderful friends but also by having Sam. He gives us a reason to get out of bed each morning and we can structure our day around him. I sometimes wonder what I would feel like if I didn't have Sam. A lady I have met since Emilie's death had suffered from infertility for 10 years. She then became pregnant with twins. She lost one twin in the second trimester and the other twin died at 36 weeks. My heart breaks for her. Sam has pulled us through this experience so much and I can't comprehend what it would feel like to not have him. I can't imagine losing your first child in this way but he is his own person-he is not Emilie and in the same way no baby we ever have will replace her. She would be 7 months old now and would have her own personality, likes, dislikes, skills and behavioural traits.
I find myself torn between wanting this roller coaster to slow down so that I can get off and reorientate myself and wanting this painful time to be over and done with as quickly as possible. I don't want to spend my time focussing on fertility treatment and grief to such an extent that I miss out on moments with Sam. Every time someone announces a pregnancy I genuinely do feel happy for them but have a silent thought of 'I hope the next person is me'. And then it's someone else's turn... I hope and pray every day that sometime soon we'll have our good news and can join in with the life that carries on around us.
Showing posts with label Stillbirth. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Stillbirth. Show all posts
Monday, 30 April 2012
Friday, 20 April 2012
Distractions.....
I've found quite a helpful distraction in the form of making 'cake pops'. Obsessed much.....?
We've also had a bit of a shift around in the playroom this week. When I was pregnant with Emilie we bought a sofa to go in there so that I could sit in there with Emilie and Sam comfortably. The sofa has become a kind of symbol of what we don't have. It took up valuable floor/toy space for Sam and we didn't really need it at present. So this week we moved it upstairs to Emilie's room to act as a bed settee. This also meant that we had to shift Emilie's room around a bit to accommodate it. It doesn't look quite as much like her room anymore which makes inevitably having to go in there somewhat easier. I definitely think this was the right decision and a positive step forward.....
We've also had a bit of a shift around in the playroom this week. When I was pregnant with Emilie we bought a sofa to go in there so that I could sit in there with Emilie and Sam comfortably. The sofa has become a kind of symbol of what we don't have. It took up valuable floor/toy space for Sam and we didn't really need it at present. So this week we moved it upstairs to Emilie's room to act as a bed settee. This also meant that we had to shift Emilie's room around a bit to accommodate it. It doesn't look quite as much like her room anymore which makes inevitably having to go in there somewhat easier. I definitely think this was the right decision and a positive step forward.....
Friday, 13 April 2012
Happy Days...
We attended the fertility clinic this morning. Sam had to come with us and it was the first time he had been to the hospital since the day Emilie died. I forgot about the significance of this as I've been goodness only knows how many times since her death. I briefed him before we left and he seemed ok about it until a few minutes before hand when he pointed at a photo of Emilie and asked 'are we going to give that photo to Emilie today?'. Following discussion it became apparent that he thought we were going to the hospital to see her. What a confusing time for a 3 year old-I sometimes under estimate the extent of his grief and the effect that all of this is having on him. He was very clingy at the hospital and very quiet on the way home. I wondered what must be going through his mind...?
We followed the appointment up with a visit to see a friend who moved away last year. She has also suffered a number of pregnancy losses and seeing her children playing with Sam made me see what wonderful siblings they will make when they get the chance and how much Sam longs to have siblings to play with. They spent ages rolling down hills, playing in the park and playing hide and seek. How wonderfully uncomplicated the lives of children are!
It is days like today that I am reminded of how lucky I am and how thankful I am for what I have got. It's days like today when I can see that glimmer of sun through the grey clouds.
We followed the appointment up with a visit to see a friend who moved away last year. She has also suffered a number of pregnancy losses and seeing her children playing with Sam made me see what wonderful siblings they will make when they get the chance and how much Sam longs to have siblings to play with. They spent ages rolling down hills, playing in the park and playing hide and seek. How wonderfully uncomplicated the lives of children are!
It is days like today that I am reminded of how lucky I am and how thankful I am for what I have got. It's days like today when I can see that glimmer of sun through the grey clouds.
Monday, 9 April 2012
Longing
For 32 weeks he waited patiently to meet his baby sister,
He knew her by name,
He cuddled her tiny bump and gave it kisses,
Saying 'goodnight' to her each night.
He carefully chose out toys for her to play with and put them to one side,
For the time when she would be here for him to share them with her.
He ran around her room each night at bedtime,
Basking in his own excitement.
He saw her everywhere,
She was constantly at the forefront on his mind,
On billboard images of newborns and on TV ultrasound images,
Certain that HIS baby sister was special enough to be shown publicly.
Proud before he'd even met her.
And then came the news that his baby sister had died,
He was there to witness it,
Too young to understand what was going on around him,
But old enough to know that something was wrong.
A fuss was made of him,
He got biscuits and juice,
Coo'd over by the midwives and doctors,
Whilst his parents endured unspeakable pain.
Days of confusion followed as he was passed from friend to friend,
He looked through photographs of her and asked questions that only a 2 1/2 year old could ask,
'Why did we leave her at hospital?'
'Did she have a poorly tummy or a poorly head?'
'What does died mean?'
'Where is heaven?'
'Will she come back next week?'
'Maybe we can get another one?'
We swallowed our pain to answer his questions as well as we could.
Then the eating stopped and his behaviour changed,
We watched as he lost weight,
And became a more withdrawn, more sensitive version of his former self.
He saw babies everywhere,
And withdraw from them,
He asked where his baby sister was,
And why he doesn't have a sibling.
The confusion carries on.
He misses and mentions her daily,
He asks if he can have a baby in his tummy,
To solve all our problems.
He prays for a baby,
And asks what they will be called,
He has a simplistic understanding of hope,
And truly believes that he'll get what he asks for.
We strive to have that childlike faith,
But our experiences cloud our vision,
I long to give him that sibling -
To watch him play with and care for them.
What a great big brother he'll make....
One day.
He knew her by name,
He cuddled her tiny bump and gave it kisses,
Saying 'goodnight' to her each night.
He carefully chose out toys for her to play with and put them to one side,
For the time when she would be here for him to share them with her.
He ran around her room each night at bedtime,
Basking in his own excitement.
He saw her everywhere,
She was constantly at the forefront on his mind,
On billboard images of newborns and on TV ultrasound images,
Certain that HIS baby sister was special enough to be shown publicly.
Proud before he'd even met her.
And then came the news that his baby sister had died,
He was there to witness it,
Too young to understand what was going on around him,
But old enough to know that something was wrong.
A fuss was made of him,
He got biscuits and juice,
Coo'd over by the midwives and doctors,
Whilst his parents endured unspeakable pain.
Days of confusion followed as he was passed from friend to friend,
He looked through photographs of her and asked questions that only a 2 1/2 year old could ask,
'Why did we leave her at hospital?'
'Did she have a poorly tummy or a poorly head?'
'What does died mean?'
'Where is heaven?'
'Will she come back next week?'
'Maybe we can get another one?'
We swallowed our pain to answer his questions as well as we could.
Then the eating stopped and his behaviour changed,
We watched as he lost weight,
And became a more withdrawn, more sensitive version of his former self.
He saw babies everywhere,
And withdraw from them,
He asked where his baby sister was,
And why he doesn't have a sibling.
The confusion carries on.
He misses and mentions her daily,
He asks if he can have a baby in his tummy,
To solve all our problems.
He prays for a baby,
And asks what they will be called,
He has a simplistic understanding of hope,
And truly believes that he'll get what he asks for.
We strive to have that childlike faith,
But our experiences cloud our vision,
I long to give him that sibling -
To watch him play with and care for them.
What a great big brother he'll make....
One day.
Friday, 6 April 2012
A great resource!
This is an excerpt from a great link that I had to share! I really hope that this can give some insight into how to support couples who are going through similar experiences to us.
(from Hannah's Prayer charity website:http://sites.radiantwebtools.com/?i=5455&mid=7)
HOW TO ENCOURAGE YOUR INFERTILE OR BEREAVED FRIENDS
September 5, 2010
"An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up." ~ Proverbs 12:25 (NIV)
When someone is going through the challenges of infertility, and pregnancy eludes them month by month, or when they are blessed with the joyous news of a coming child, only to have that baby slip too quickly from this life to the next, they turn to family and friends in hopes of support and comfort. Usually those people want to help but simply don't know how. They often hurt the grieving couple unintentionally by either saying the wrong things or saying nothing at all and expecting them to "get on with their lives" as if their hearts weren't broken. Below are some resources for friends and family members of these hurting couples.
Simply being aware of your loved one's pain and recognizing their grief is an important step!
"Helping a Loved One with Infertility"
Suggestions:
Unless you are a very close friend, don’t ask specifics such as, “What day do you have the pregnancy test?,” or “What day will you do the artificial insemination?” Simply saying, “I’m praying for you,” “We’re thinking of you,” or “Please let us know if there’s anything we can do,” are all appropriate ways to show your interest without putting her on the spot.
If possible, do not surprise her by making a big announcement that you’re pregnant. While it is appropriate for you to be excited and want to share your news in a big way, consider telling her privately first and letting her know when you plan to share your news.
Do not ask her any questions about infertility around other people.
The childless couple may feel “out of place” at child-centered family events like family vacations, Easter egg hunts, children’s birthday parties, etc. Absolutely invite them, but don’t make them explain why they declined the invitation.
Offering to ride with her or drive her to appointments would be appreciated. People often have to drive over an hour to the nearest infertility clinic.
If you say something to her and think later that maybe you shouldn’t have said it, call her and apologize. It will mean al lot to her.
Definitely invite her to baby showers and let her know when a baby has been born, but don’t expect her to attend those events. Besides feeling very uncomfortable herself, she may feel that her presence will make others uncomfortable.
Sometimes a woman going through infertility will not want to talk about it. But she still needs to know people care. Calling and leaving a message saying, “I hope you’re doing OK. We love you and are praying for you. Call if you want to talk,” is very considerate because there’s no pressure for her to call back yet she knows she hasn’t been forgotten.
Sending “Thinking of You” cards are nice. Here is an example of a note: “I just wanted to let you know that I am thinking about you and praying today and especially over the next three weeks. As I was thinking of you this verse kept coming to my mind and I think it is meant for you. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope an a future!” Jeremiah 29:11. God’s plan is to give you hope and not harm. Know that you are loved and cared for deeply!
Acknowledging that Christmas and Mother’s Day are difficult days is appreciated - but this is a tricky one. An example follows: at a family Christmas, my sister-in-law privately walked over to me and handed me a gift bag. It contained a children’s book with a written note on the inside cover: “This is a bedtime favorite of our girls. We hope it will be for your little one very soon! We love you and keep your baby-to-be in our prayers!” It meant so much that she took such a bold step to acknowledge our pain, but did it very privately so we were not put on the spot. She realized that while everyone else was happy and excited, we were struggling.
There are lots of books on infertility and miscarriage that can be helpful. Buying one and mailing it, along with a simple note, to someone you love who is experiencing infertility would be a very nice gesture.
If you know she has just had a negative pregnancy test or is having an especially difficult time, sending flowers with a note saying, “We love you, “or “We’re thinking of you,” is always a good idea.
Things to Avoid Saying:
“Just don’t think about it so much and it’ll happen.”
“You’re lucky. We would love to have some time without our kids!”
“If you wouldn’t get so stressed out about it, maybe...”
“I know exactly how you feel, it took us two months to conceive.”
“You can have a couple of my kids!”
“I’m having another boy. I was hoping for a girl.”
“This was an accident. I didn’t want to be pregnant in the summertime.”
“I can just lay in the same bed with my husband and get pregnant!”
“Maybe God doesn’t want you to have children for some reason.”
“Do you just not want kids?”
“Have you tried....”
“You’re Lucky, you don’t have to take the pill.”
“How much does it cost to do......(in vitro, artificial insemination, etc.)”
http://sites.radiantwebtools.com/?i=5455&mid=7
(from Hannah's Prayer charity website:http://sites.radiantwebtools.com/?i=5455&mid=7)
HOW TO ENCOURAGE YOUR INFERTILE OR BEREAVED FRIENDS
September 5, 2010
"An anxious heart weighs a man down, but a kind word cheers him up." ~ Proverbs 12:25 (NIV)
When someone is going through the challenges of infertility, and pregnancy eludes them month by month, or when they are blessed with the joyous news of a coming child, only to have that baby slip too quickly from this life to the next, they turn to family and friends in hopes of support and comfort. Usually those people want to help but simply don't know how. They often hurt the grieving couple unintentionally by either saying the wrong things or saying nothing at all and expecting them to "get on with their lives" as if their hearts weren't broken. Below are some resources for friends and family members of these hurting couples.
Simply being aware of your loved one's pain and recognizing their grief is an important step!
"Helping a Loved One with Infertility"
Suggestions:
Unless you are a very close friend, don’t ask specifics such as, “What day do you have the pregnancy test?,” or “What day will you do the artificial insemination?” Simply saying, “I’m praying for you,” “We’re thinking of you,” or “Please let us know if there’s anything we can do,” are all appropriate ways to show your interest without putting her on the spot.
If possible, do not surprise her by making a big announcement that you’re pregnant. While it is appropriate for you to be excited and want to share your news in a big way, consider telling her privately first and letting her know when you plan to share your news.
Do not ask her any questions about infertility around other people.
The childless couple may feel “out of place” at child-centered family events like family vacations, Easter egg hunts, children’s birthday parties, etc. Absolutely invite them, but don’t make them explain why they declined the invitation.
Offering to ride with her or drive her to appointments would be appreciated. People often have to drive over an hour to the nearest infertility clinic.
If you say something to her and think later that maybe you shouldn’t have said it, call her and apologize. It will mean al lot to her.
Definitely invite her to baby showers and let her know when a baby has been born, but don’t expect her to attend those events. Besides feeling very uncomfortable herself, she may feel that her presence will make others uncomfortable.
Sometimes a woman going through infertility will not want to talk about it. But she still needs to know people care. Calling and leaving a message saying, “I hope you’re doing OK. We love you and are praying for you. Call if you want to talk,” is very considerate because there’s no pressure for her to call back yet she knows she hasn’t been forgotten.
Sending “Thinking of You” cards are nice. Here is an example of a note: “I just wanted to let you know that I am thinking about you and praying today and especially over the next three weeks. As I was thinking of you this verse kept coming to my mind and I think it is meant for you. “For I know the plans I have for you,” declares the Lord, “plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you a hope an a future!” Jeremiah 29:11. God’s plan is to give you hope and not harm. Know that you are loved and cared for deeply!
Acknowledging that Christmas and Mother’s Day are difficult days is appreciated - but this is a tricky one. An example follows: at a family Christmas, my sister-in-law privately walked over to me and handed me a gift bag. It contained a children’s book with a written note on the inside cover: “This is a bedtime favorite of our girls. We hope it will be for your little one very soon! We love you and keep your baby-to-be in our prayers!” It meant so much that she took such a bold step to acknowledge our pain, but did it very privately so we were not put on the spot. She realized that while everyone else was happy and excited, we were struggling.
There are lots of books on infertility and miscarriage that can be helpful. Buying one and mailing it, along with a simple note, to someone you love who is experiencing infertility would be a very nice gesture.
If you know she has just had a negative pregnancy test or is having an especially difficult time, sending flowers with a note saying, “We love you, “or “We’re thinking of you,” is always a good idea.
Things to Avoid Saying:
“Just don’t think about it so much and it’ll happen.”
“You’re lucky. We would love to have some time without our kids!”
“If you wouldn’t get so stressed out about it, maybe...”
“I know exactly how you feel, it took us two months to conceive.”
“You can have a couple of my kids!”
“I’m having another boy. I was hoping for a girl.”
“This was an accident. I didn’t want to be pregnant in the summertime.”
“I can just lay in the same bed with my husband and get pregnant!”
“Maybe God doesn’t want you to have children for some reason.”
“Do you just not want kids?”
“Have you tried....”
“You’re Lucky, you don’t have to take the pill.”
“How much does it cost to do......(in vitro, artificial insemination, etc.)”
http://sites.radiantwebtools.com/?i=5455&mid=7
Monday, 2 April 2012
Is where I am exactly where I'm meant to be?
I've been trying to get on with lifea bit more over the past couple of weeks. I've tried to 'enjoy' where Iam at the moment believing that this is where I'm meant to be right now andhave been trying to work out what that looks like. The truth is that thisisn't where I want to be and sometimes it becomes incredibly difficult to seeany good in what's going on at the moment. I often find myself saying'there's good days and bad days' and truthfully the good days are getting morebut there have been an awful lot of bad days recently too. Emilie hasleft such a gap in our lives and it's really difficult to work out how thingslook now. Sometimes I feel like the world is carrying on around me andI'm stuck in a state of limbo watching it all go on but being unable to moveforward myself. I'm still clinging onto the hope that the seasons willchange soon and things will begin to look up for us but in all honesty, witheach day that goes by, my hope seems to diminish and I feel lower than the daybefore.
I guess I'm wondering if this is where I'm meant to be at themoment how can I make the best of it? How can I prove that I'm notdefeated and I'm keeping going? How can I use what's happened to me forgood? How can I trust that God knows what he's doing and has a plan forme when everyone else around me seem to be getting their rewards and I'm stillstuck in the place I was 2 years ago having taken 2 steps forward and 100 back? I really believe that God has a plan for me but the length of time I amwaiting for it to come to fruition is intimidating me and I know thatI'm becoming disillusioned.
I have been listening to this song alot recently. It is froman album called 'Beauty Will Rise' that a friend recommended to me. Ilove the lyrics and it is becoming my prayer.
We planted the seed while the tears of our grief soaked theground
The sky lost its’ sun and the world lost its’green to lifeless brown
Now the chill in the wind has turned the Earthhard as stone
And silent the seed lies beneath ice and snow
And my heart’s heavy now, but I’m not letting go
Of this hope I have that tells me
(Chorus)
Spring is coming, Spring is coming
And all we’ve been hoping and longing for
Soon will appear
Spring is coming, Spring is coming
It won’t be long now
It’s just about here
Hear the birds start to sing
Feel the life in the breeze
Watch the ice melt away
The kids are coming out to play
Feel the sun on your skin
Growing strong and warm again
Watch the ground
There’s something moving
Something is breaking through
New life is breaking through
Repeat Chorus
Spring is coming (Out of these ashes beauty willrise)
Spring is coming (Sorrow will be turned to joy)
All we’ve been hoping and longing for (All we’vehoped for)
Soon will appear (soon will appear)
Spring is coming (Out of the darkness beautywill shine)
Spring is coming (All Earth and Heaven rejoice)
It won’t be long now (Spring is coming soon)
It’s just about here (Spring is coming soon)
The sky lost its’ sun and the world lost its’green to lifeless brown
Now the chill in the wind has turned the Earthhard as stone
And silent the seed lies beneath ice and snow
And my heart’s heavy now, but I’m not letting go
Of this hope I have that tells me
(Chorus)
Spring is coming, Spring is coming
And all we’ve been hoping and longing for
Soon will appear
Spring is coming, Spring is coming
It won’t be long now
It’s just about here
Hear the birds start to sing
Feel the life in the breeze
Watch the ice melt away
The kids are coming out to play
Feel the sun on your skin
Growing strong and warm again
Watch the ground
There’s something moving
Something is breaking through
New life is breaking through
Repeat Chorus
Spring is coming (Out of these ashes beauty willrise)
Spring is coming (Sorrow will be turned to joy)
All we’ve been hoping and longing for (All we’vehoped for)
Soon will appear (soon will appear)
Spring is coming (Out of the darkness beautywill shine)
Spring is coming (All Earth and Heaven rejoice)
It won’t be long now (Spring is coming soon)
It’s just about here (Spring is coming soon)
A friend told me that she can't wait until we are able tosit, as a group of friends, and pass my baby around - for me to show him/heroff. I can't wait until this time either but at the moment it seems asfar from reach as it is possible for something to be. I can't wait forthis season to change and for new life to break through in our pain. Ican't wait until I can look back and say 'it was all worth it, I have noregrets and this is the perfect timing for this to happen in our lives'. I just hope that God's perfect timing isn't too far away.....
Saturday, 10 March 2012
What is Grief?
This is a post I wrote a week or so ago. I have umm'd and ahh'd over whether to post it or not but after a couple of particularly hard days I decided to go ahead. Sometimes I struggle to put things into words when speaking with friends and find it easier to do in this format. So, here goes...
A few months ago I had no idea what grief was. I have experienced people dying, both young and old, before and have been very affected by this. I've had relationships break down in the past and have dealt with close friends moving away. But nothing could have prepared me for the sense of grief that I have felt over the past few months. It's so hard to put it into words when people ask what it feels like or how we're doing but I found this poem that does it perfectly. It was read out at a cathedral service we went to which was held for parents who had lost children:
"An Ugly Pair of Shoes"
I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
Author Unknown
I often get people saying to me 'I just don't/didn't know what to say to you or do for the best. I think until you are in the situation, and I truly wouldn't wish it on anyone, there is no way of knowing what the best thing to do is. I've found a few things to be really helpful and if you're reading this having had a friend/family member go through losing a child maybe this could help?
Remember to think before you act. Grief can make people incredibly vulnerable and sensitive. Insensitive actions/comments can feel infinitely worse than you might think and can bring grieving parents back down to 'rock bottom'.
Being avoided by people can be really hurtful. I feel it's important to acknowledge the child that's died rather than avoid the subject. Emilie meant the world to us.
Even if someone looks ok, it doesn't mean that they are! Make up and nice clothes can cover up a multitude of sins ;-)
It's been nearly 6 months for us now. The grief is just as strong as ever, we've just learned to manage it a but more. That doesn't mean we're ok or it's time to move on, it just means out capacity to cope is improving.
People have made such a fuss of Sam and this is possibly one of the things we are most grateful for. He has experienced loss too and desperately misses his baby sister. Knowing people love him and enjoy being around him really gives him a boost . We have a few friends who he adores; one couple in particular who don't have children yet; and seeing him with them, being made a fuss of and being his happy little self is incredibly special!
I guess what I'm trying to say in all this is there's no 'right' way to respond to us. Nothing is going to bring Emilie back or lessen our pain but knowing that people love and support us and are willing to share our pain means more than you could know.
So... I hope you'll forgive this self indulgent post. The poem spoke to me so much and in such a way that I felt compelled to share it. I hope it can put into words what I can't.
A few months ago I had no idea what grief was. I have experienced people dying, both young and old, before and have been very affected by this. I've had relationships break down in the past and have dealt with close friends moving away. But nothing could have prepared me for the sense of grief that I have felt over the past few months. It's so hard to put it into words when people ask what it feels like or how we're doing but I found this poem that does it perfectly. It was read out at a cathedral service we went to which was held for parents who had lost children:
"An Ugly Pair of Shoes"
I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in this world.
Some woman are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.
Author Unknown
I often get people saying to me 'I just don't/didn't know what to say to you or do for the best. I think until you are in the situation, and I truly wouldn't wish it on anyone, there is no way of knowing what the best thing to do is. I've found a few things to be really helpful and if you're reading this having had a friend/family member go through losing a child maybe this could help?
Remember to think before you act. Grief can make people incredibly vulnerable and sensitive. Insensitive actions/comments can feel infinitely worse than you might think and can bring grieving parents back down to 'rock bottom'.
Being avoided by people can be really hurtful. I feel it's important to acknowledge the child that's died rather than avoid the subject. Emilie meant the world to us.
Even if someone looks ok, it doesn't mean that they are! Make up and nice clothes can cover up a multitude of sins ;-)
It's been nearly 6 months for us now. The grief is just as strong as ever, we've just learned to manage it a but more. That doesn't mean we're ok or it's time to move on, it just means out capacity to cope is improving.
People have made such a fuss of Sam and this is possibly one of the things we are most grateful for. He has experienced loss too and desperately misses his baby sister. Knowing people love him and enjoy being around him really gives him a boost . We have a few friends who he adores; one couple in particular who don't have children yet; and seeing him with them, being made a fuss of and being his happy little self is incredibly special!
I guess what I'm trying to say in all this is there's no 'right' way to respond to us. Nothing is going to bring Emilie back or lessen our pain but knowing that people love and support us and are willing to share our pain means more than you could know.
So... I hope you'll forgive this self indulgent post. The poem spoke to me so much and in such a way that I felt compelled to share it. I hope it can put into words what I can't.
Wednesday, 7 March 2012
Hope in the Waiting
'Hope' and 'Waiting' are two things I've been thinking about alot the past week. I've spoken alot about the Biblical definition of hope and what it means to me at the moment but the thing I really struggle with is the waiting. I'm trying to be patient and I'm trying look to God when I'm struggling but it's hard. Last week, with some support, I decided to take a break from doing the ovulation tests. I was becoming completely obsessed and thoughts of testing were filling my every waking moment. I even know that, as I have PCOS, the results of the tests can be adversely affected but all I could see was the negative results and that was it. All of a sudden, each morning, every ounce of hope was taken from me as the kits read negative and I wasn't able to see past this - I had no idea how I would possibly get pregnant.
I have found stopping taking the tests incredibly hard. The first couple of days if I was sat down doing nothing I would would struggle with not being able to go and take a test and I would find myself trawling the internet searching for other people for whom tests had consistently read negative. On Monday I had a moment of realistion - looking at pregnancy forums, speaking with other women with PCOS and comparing my cycle to theirs was not going to make any difference. I was diagnosed with PCOS nearly 7 years ago - I know that I have very long, irregular and often anovulatory cycles; this isn't something new so I should have realized that no amount of obsession was going to make any difference. As a result I've decided to try and look at positives in this situation: I know that I have got pregnant 3 times. It possibly hasn't been in our timing but it has happened. I know that I have a happy and healthy 3 year old. My pregnancy with him was far from normal and very stressful but he is here and is fine! I know that, apart from the miscarriage, I have been ok in 1st and 2nd trimester and have only had real problems in 3rd trimester so if I can get pregnant and get to 28 weeks I'll be doing well and the baby will stand a very good chance by then. It's just the getting pregnant stage that I need to get through....
...And this brings me back to the waiting. Until I'm pregnant there is nothing I can do. We feel like we are in a constant state of limbo - a constant state of waiting and hoping, hoping and waiting. That's when I came across this blog: http://www.hopeinthewaiting.com/. It is written by a lady who, after 3 years of infertility, suffered a still birth, late miscarriage and 2 early miscarriages. Yet she is still able to say "My story has been filled with unbelievable heartache, but I choose to trust and believe in a God that knows how the story ultimately ends. I have the amazing privilege to be a mom of 4 children. 2 in heaven and 2 on earth. I wouldn't trade that for the world." God know's how our story ends and I need to trust that His timing is perfect, even if it's different to my timing. I just hope He doesn't make us wait much longer - He's really making my work on my patience and address my OCD ! ;)
Tuesday, 28 February 2012
Hoping for Spring
Even though there are little signs of spring everywhere, I still feel like we're in the middle of winter. Everything you read on miscarriage says that you're more fertile straight afterwards. It sounds like it kicks your body into action. Only with me that doesn't seem to be happening. I actually dread to think how much money we've spent on ovulation kits and fertility monitor sticks over the past 18 months or so and every day the reading is 'low fertility'. It's like a kick in the stomach every single day and I keep wondering how long we can keep going with it.
I have recently got a tattoo on my back with the word 'tikvah'. It's the Hebrew word for 'hope' the meaning of which originates from the idea of things being bound together by a cord or rope which endures when being stretched or teseted. The concept of this sort of hope is trust being placed in an unbreakable promise. The idea of hope in the Bible is to wait expectantly, with confidence and this is what we're trying hard to do. I have to be honest through, and this is getting harder and harder for us. We truly believe we will have a baby but we've been waiting for a very long time now and I can see the age gap between Sam and another baby getting bigger and bigger. Our original plan was to have our children very close together - this isn't going to happen now and we can see that Sam is desperate for a sibling as we are.
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As spring is approaching, though, I am seeing little signs of new life everywhere and my garden is starting to come back to life. These signs are giving me tiny streaks of hope. I desperately hope that we will get our sign of new life very soon...
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I have recently got a tattoo on my back with the word 'tikvah'. It's the Hebrew word for 'hope' the meaning of which originates from the idea of things being bound together by a cord or rope which endures when being stretched or teseted. The concept of this sort of hope is trust being placed in an unbreakable promise. The idea of hope in the Bible is to wait expectantly, with confidence and this is what we're trying hard to do. I have to be honest through, and this is getting harder and harder for us. We truly believe we will have a baby but we've been waiting for a very long time now and I can see the age gap between Sam and another baby getting bigger and bigger. Our original plan was to have our children very close together - this isn't going to happen now and we can see that Sam is desperate for a sibling as we are.
.JPG)
As spring is approaching, though, I am seeing little signs of new life everywhere and my garden is starting to come back to life. These signs are giving me tiny streaks of hope. I desperately hope that we will get our sign of new life very soon...
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Saturday, 25 February 2012
Not the end of the story...
Not one of my posts but just had to share this!
http://www.ucb.co.uk/index.cfm?itemid=88 (UCB word for today 27/2/12)
'Satan's plan was to infect Adam with the virus of sin before his first son was born; that way he could get all the rest of us. And it almost worked. Cain, Adam's first son, murdered his brother Abel. But God wasn't finished. 'Adam knew his wife again, and she bore a son and named him Seth, "For God has appointed another seed for me instead of Abel.' 'For everything you've loved or lost, God has something else. For everything that's been stolen from you, God has something else. Your 'seed' is your future, and God has another one in mind for you. The situation you are in right now is not the end of the story; God wants to write a new chapter. The devil knew God had a plan for you; that's why he tried so hard to wipe you out. He doesn't want you to live long enough to fulfil it. But the fact that you're still here and able to read this says he failed, and that God's not through with you! Notice the word 'appointed.' There's an appointment on God's calendar with your name on it. 'God has appointed another [future] for me.' There's something good just over the horizon - something for your life, your marriage, your family, your career, your ministry. God has an appointed task for you to accomplish, and appointed blessings for you to enjoy. He has called you with an 'eternal purpose' and He will bring it to pass.'
What a great thought!.....
http://www.ucb.co.uk/index.cfm?itemid=88 (UCB word for today 27/2/12)
'Satan's plan was to infect Adam with the virus of sin before his first son was born; that way he could get all the rest of us. And it almost worked. Cain, Adam's first son, murdered his brother Abel. But God wasn't finished. 'Adam knew his wife again, and she bore a son and named him Seth, "For God has appointed another seed for me instead of Abel.' 'For everything you've loved or lost, God has something else. For everything that's been stolen from you, God has something else. Your 'seed' is your future, and God has another one in mind for you. The situation you are in right now is not the end of the story; God wants to write a new chapter. The devil knew God had a plan for you; that's why he tried so hard to wipe you out. He doesn't want you to live long enough to fulfil it. But the fact that you're still here and able to read this says he failed, and that God's not through with you! Notice the word 'appointed.' There's an appointment on God's calendar with your name on it. 'God has appointed another [future] for me.' There's something good just over the horizon - something for your life, your marriage, your family, your career, your ministry. God has an appointed task for you to accomplish, and appointed blessings for you to enjoy. He has called you with an 'eternal purpose' and He will bring it to pass.'
What a great thought!.....
Saturday, 18 February 2012
Choose Joy
I stumbled across an amazing blog this week. The link is here: http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/define-joy.html
It was actually by pure accident I stumbled across the blog. I followed a link from another stillbirth blog where the writer was questioning God's will in allowing such things to happen - she was searching for answers and she'd linked to the above blog. The author is a lady called Sara. She had an autoimmune disease called Ankylosing Spondylitis and she died the day before Emilie did as a result of the disease. In her 'about me' section of her blog she says: "My life is a difficult balancing act, but I am not being flippant when I tell you that I have a good life. I have a home, friends, love and support. I have that cute dog I've talked about at length and I have the time to really be there for people when they need me. This is not the life I imagined for myself, but it's the life I've been blessed with and I won't take a moment of it for granted." What an amazingly brave thing to say! There is too much on her blog for me to talk about but I have been really touched by it and am so sad that I can't let her know what an impact her words have had on me this week. She talks alot on her blog about the issue of 'free will' and inspite of her excruciatingly painful illness her faith doesn't seem to waver at all. She says "I think free will allowed two people to fall in love and have a child, and their genetics combined to create me. And in those genetics was a disease called Ankylosing Spondylitis. Just like others may have heart disease or diabetes or a myriad of other illnesses... it's just luck of the draw. But I think God, after allowing that free will, then helps us to see that we can make beautiful choices out of difficult situations. He may lead me to the best ways to cope, He may lead me to comfort, He may lead me to serve by helping others... but choosing to follow His lead is my choice through free will as well".
This is something that I have been thinking about alot at the moment. I am reading a book called 'God on Mute' by Peter Grieg which talks about the issue of unanswered prayer. I thought the book might make me angry, but it doesn't. I'm finding it really comforting and faith building. When Emilie first died, I couldn't see how anything good could come out of the situation. I was hurt and angry - infact that doesn't come close - I don't think there are words to describe how I felt. Even now, I feel pain each morning when I wake up and each night when I go to sleep. It's unimaginable. But 5 months on I can see God working through the situation. I might not always be able to hear him or feel his presence but somehow I know he's there. Although some friendships have struggled since Emilie died with people not knowing what to say or do, most friendships have been cemented and I feel a real sense of belonging and community which I have never felt this strongly. I have been forced to work out what is important in my life and, although my life is unrecognisable from before Emilie died, I wouldn't change it. I like the way my life is panning out (taking the dead babies issues out of the equation, of course!) and I honestly don't think I'd go back to how my life was before she died. I can't wait to meet her and tell her that she truly changed our lives for the better. Last week a lady spoke to me telling me that when she'd had a miscarriage she found it really hard to verbalise her feelings and that my blog is helping her to do that. I've had many friends suffer miscarriage in the past and one friend who went through a neonatal death and then a stillbirth but I've never known what to say or what to do. Now I can see ways to support people and want to be able to do so. I can think of ways that I can use this experience to help other women......
So I guess what I'm saying is that 5 months on, I can see good things coming out of the situation but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt.
I realise now as well that joy is a very different thing to happiness. You can be joy filled without feeling happy or elated. I am not happy that Emilie or my other baby died. I am not happy that I've been forced to restructure my life and put career choices, hopes and dreams on hold and I'm not happy that Sam tells me every day that he misses Emilie and wants to know, rather forlornly, why he doesn't have a baby brother or sister. BUT I am filled with joy when I think of meeting Emilie again; I am filled with joy at the thought of having another baby and finally being able to give Sam that sibling; I'm filled with joy at the thought of being able to help and support other women when the time's right. I'm trying hard not to focus on how bad things seem but instead want to think of ways to turn things around so that I can say 'this is what you threw at me - and look what I've done with it!!' On a bad day I might feel less able to do this but thankfully the really bad days are getting less and I'm able to look forward a bit more.
I wanted to finish with something else from Sara's blog, and with one of her illustrations. What an amazing women she was!
"Joy: the unwavering trust that God knows what He’s doing and has blessed me with the opportunity to be a part of it… not despite what’s happening in my life but because of it. When everything earthly feels heavy He gives me an internal lightness that can’t be touched." http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/define-joy.html
It was actually by pure accident I stumbled across the blog. I followed a link from another stillbirth blog where the writer was questioning God's will in allowing such things to happen - she was searching for answers and she'd linked to the above blog. The author is a lady called Sara. She had an autoimmune disease called Ankylosing Spondylitis and she died the day before Emilie did as a result of the disease. In her 'about me' section of her blog she says: "My life is a difficult balancing act, but I am not being flippant when I tell you that I have a good life. I have a home, friends, love and support. I have that cute dog I've talked about at length and I have the time to really be there for people when they need me. This is not the life I imagined for myself, but it's the life I've been blessed with and I won't take a moment of it for granted." What an amazingly brave thing to say! There is too much on her blog for me to talk about but I have been really touched by it and am so sad that I can't let her know what an impact her words have had on me this week. She talks alot on her blog about the issue of 'free will' and inspite of her excruciatingly painful illness her faith doesn't seem to waver at all. She says "I think free will allowed two people to fall in love and have a child, and their genetics combined to create me. And in those genetics was a disease called Ankylosing Spondylitis. Just like others may have heart disease or diabetes or a myriad of other illnesses... it's just luck of the draw. But I think God, after allowing that free will, then helps us to see that we can make beautiful choices out of difficult situations. He may lead me to the best ways to cope, He may lead me to comfort, He may lead me to serve by helping others... but choosing to follow His lead is my choice through free will as well".
This is something that I have been thinking about alot at the moment. I am reading a book called 'God on Mute' by Peter Grieg which talks about the issue of unanswered prayer. I thought the book might make me angry, but it doesn't. I'm finding it really comforting and faith building. When Emilie first died, I couldn't see how anything good could come out of the situation. I was hurt and angry - infact that doesn't come close - I don't think there are words to describe how I felt. Even now, I feel pain each morning when I wake up and each night when I go to sleep. It's unimaginable. But 5 months on I can see God working through the situation. I might not always be able to hear him or feel his presence but somehow I know he's there. Although some friendships have struggled since Emilie died with people not knowing what to say or do, most friendships have been cemented and I feel a real sense of belonging and community which I have never felt this strongly. I have been forced to work out what is important in my life and, although my life is unrecognisable from before Emilie died, I wouldn't change it. I like the way my life is panning out (taking the dead babies issues out of the equation, of course!) and I honestly don't think I'd go back to how my life was before she died. I can't wait to meet her and tell her that she truly changed our lives for the better. Last week a lady spoke to me telling me that when she'd had a miscarriage she found it really hard to verbalise her feelings and that my blog is helping her to do that. I've had many friends suffer miscarriage in the past and one friend who went through a neonatal death and then a stillbirth but I've never known what to say or what to do. Now I can see ways to support people and want to be able to do so. I can think of ways that I can use this experience to help other women......
So I guess what I'm saying is that 5 months on, I can see good things coming out of the situation but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt.
I realise now as well that joy is a very different thing to happiness. You can be joy filled without feeling happy or elated. I am not happy that Emilie or my other baby died. I am not happy that I've been forced to restructure my life and put career choices, hopes and dreams on hold and I'm not happy that Sam tells me every day that he misses Emilie and wants to know, rather forlornly, why he doesn't have a baby brother or sister. BUT I am filled with joy when I think of meeting Emilie again; I am filled with joy at the thought of having another baby and finally being able to give Sam that sibling; I'm filled with joy at the thought of being able to help and support other women when the time's right. I'm trying hard not to focus on how bad things seem but instead want to think of ways to turn things around so that I can say 'this is what you threw at me - and look what I've done with it!!' On a bad day I might feel less able to do this but thankfully the really bad days are getting less and I'm able to look forward a bit more.
I wanted to finish with something else from Sara's blog, and with one of her illustrations. What an amazing women she was!
"Joy: the unwavering trust that God knows what He’s doing and has blessed me with the opportunity to be a part of it… not despite what’s happening in my life but because of it. When everything earthly feels heavy He gives me an internal lightness that can’t be touched." http://gitzengirl.blogspot.com/2008/11/define-joy.html
Monday, 13 February 2012
Meant to Be?
I'm feeling pretty fed up. And impatient! Is it really possible to run out of patience? I categorically think the answer is 'yes'. I've said before, but so much of the past two years I've been waiting and I have no waiting left in me. Why do these things take such time? I've stopped bleeding and am starting to feel a bit more human but pregnancy tests are still reading positive. Surely that must be one of the cruelest parts of the whole ordeal? You spend months on end wanting for a positive test and now I just want it to read negative so that I can move on. I know my levels are coming down dramatically but until they're gone my body can't move on. I just struggle to comprehend what an unbelievably cruel situation this is.
I bumped into an old colleague this morning. I hadn't seen her for a while and last time she'd seen me I was heavily pregnant so naturally the questions started rolling. I told her what had happened and I could tell by her response that she was horrified. She then asked if I'd try again at which point I explained that 'actually I had a miscarriage last week'. Her immediate response, without batting an eyelid was 'oh, well it's obviously not meant to be, is it?'. What a thing to say!! Anyone who knows me will know the response didn't go down well and I retorted with a snappy 'I certainly hope it is meant to be' and explained that we want a baby more than she could imagine. It got me thinking, though... One of the things I'm struggling with at the moment is how many unplanned and unwanted pregnancies there are that don't end in miscarriage or stillbirth and here we are, desperate for another baby, and it's seemingly impossible for us to have one. Do those parents deserve their babies any less than we do? Or are their babies meant to be and mine aren't? I just don't know anymore. There's a part of me that feels having a baby is like a lottery system, there's no certain outcomes and no sure chance of having a baby at the end of it. But then there's a bigger part of me that is clinging to the fact that Emilie and our other baby WERE meant to be, they both had purposes and their lives weren't in vain, no matter how short they were. There is a part of me that hopes some of their purpose was to make me a stronger person, to make me reassess what is important & prioritise my life differently and to increase my capacity for hope. There is a part of me that is desperately hoping there is a little person waiting for us who exceeds every expectation we could have ever imagined. I just hope we don't have to wait much longer for them-this month would be nice ;) .
I bumped into an old colleague this morning. I hadn't seen her for a while and last time she'd seen me I was heavily pregnant so naturally the questions started rolling. I told her what had happened and I could tell by her response that she was horrified. She then asked if I'd try again at which point I explained that 'actually I had a miscarriage last week'. Her immediate response, without batting an eyelid was 'oh, well it's obviously not meant to be, is it?'. What a thing to say!! Anyone who knows me will know the response didn't go down well and I retorted with a snappy 'I certainly hope it is meant to be' and explained that we want a baby more than she could imagine. It got me thinking, though... One of the things I'm struggling with at the moment is how many unplanned and unwanted pregnancies there are that don't end in miscarriage or stillbirth and here we are, desperate for another baby, and it's seemingly impossible for us to have one. Do those parents deserve their babies any less than we do? Or are their babies meant to be and mine aren't? I just don't know anymore. There's a part of me that feels having a baby is like a lottery system, there's no certain outcomes and no sure chance of having a baby at the end of it. But then there's a bigger part of me that is clinging to the fact that Emilie and our other baby WERE meant to be, they both had purposes and their lives weren't in vain, no matter how short they were. There is a part of me that hopes some of their purpose was to make me a stronger person, to make me reassess what is important & prioritise my life differently and to increase my capacity for hope. There is a part of me that is desperately hoping there is a little person waiting for us who exceeds every expectation we could have ever imagined. I just hope we don't have to wait much longer for them-this month would be nice ;) .
Friday, 10 February 2012
They Think It's All Over
It's over. The bleeding and cramping have stopped and I'm left feeling pretty empty. I'm getting confused and keep finding myself talking about the baby I've just lost as Emilie. When I found out I was pregnant I knew it was a different baby. I accepted that and was even happy with the fact that I felt it was a little boy. But now my head is all over the place & I'm struggling to differentiate between the two. I guess losing 2 babies in 4 1/2 months isn't a usual situation - especially when one was virtually full term.
Inspite of all this, though, I'm determined not to be defeated. I don't want to be defined by this - I don't want it to be what people think of when they hear my name, or if they do think of it I want it to be because of how I've dealt with it. I feel emotionally and physically exhausted but I want to come through this fighting and to have an amazing story to tell at the end of it-I'm not willing to let this be the end.
Today I helped organise a bake sale in aid of special care baby charity Bliss. I've spent the past week baking like mad-move over Mary Berry-and last night we had a constant stream of friends dropping off donated baked goods! People always ask what they can do & I love being able to say 'here's something'! I have to admit, that inspite of Sam's prematurity, I possibly wouldn't have had the get up & go to do something like this but what happened with Emilie has spurred me into action. It's also given me a focus over the past few weeks & I've thoroughly enjoyed preparing for it! We raised £750-amazing! Already that's something good to come out of this situation,
right?!
Inspite of all this, though, I'm determined not to be defeated. I don't want to be defined by this - I don't want it to be what people think of when they hear my name, or if they do think of it I want it to be because of how I've dealt with it. I feel emotionally and physically exhausted but I want to come through this fighting and to have an amazing story to tell at the end of it-I'm not willing to let this be the end.
Today I helped organise a bake sale in aid of special care baby charity Bliss. I've spent the past week baking like mad-move over Mary Berry-and last night we had a constant stream of friends dropping off donated baked goods! People always ask what they can do & I love being able to say 'here's something'! I have to admit, that inspite of Sam's prematurity, I possibly wouldn't have had the get up & go to do something like this but what happened with Emilie has spurred me into action. It's also given me a focus over the past few weeks & I've thoroughly enjoyed preparing for it! We raised £750-amazing! Already that's something good to come out of this situation, right?!
Wednesday, 8 February 2012
Comfort...
I woke up during the night with an overwhelming sense of despondency and disorientation. I say 'woke up' but I think I have to be sleeping before I can wake up, and I know I haven't really slept properly in 4 1/2 months - let alone in the past week. When I woke up, I couldn't work out what day it was, what was happening in my life or how long it had been since anything had happened. It all feels like someone else's nightmare that I've inadvertently found myself being a part of.
I'm trying to draw comfort from the fact that everyone says I'll be more fertile after having had a miscarriage but I feel like I'm back in a state of limbo waiting to get pregnant and until I am my life is on hold. I had a plan and this really wasn't a part of it. There's a sense of not knowing who I am anymore, the carpet has been pulled from under my feet and I need to try & work out what my life looks like now but it bears no resemblance to how I'd planned it. I only took 3 months off after having Sam before embarking on business planning, meetings and training to start my own childcare business and 7 months after he was born I opened my business. I'd worked solidly since then up until I was 23 weeks pregnant with Emilie and needed to finish to rest. That's who I am and what I want to do and now I feel like everything is on hold while I wait for a baby. I'm not used to having this level of uncertainty or being as out of control as this.
I really don't understand why things like this happen and at the moment I'm struggling to see how any good can come out of this situation. I am clinging to the fact that when I finally have my baby I can look back on this stage in my life as being a journey of growth-a season where we could do nothing but hope and trust but just a season none the less. Some of the best support I've had since Emilie died is from women who've also lost children; who've been through stillbirth, neonatal death, infant death and even the death of an adult child. There is real comfort in knowing we are not the first (or last) people to experience this and I really appreciate women, for whom I know things are still very painful, using what has happened to them to help me. I really hope that when all of this is over I can use what has happened for good and to give support to other women who have experienced the loss of a child.
2 Corinthians 1:4 (NLT)
4He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.
I'm trying to draw comfort from the fact that everyone says I'll be more fertile after having had a miscarriage but I feel like I'm back in a state of limbo waiting to get pregnant and until I am my life is on hold. I had a plan and this really wasn't a part of it. There's a sense of not knowing who I am anymore, the carpet has been pulled from under my feet and I need to try & work out what my life looks like now but it bears no resemblance to how I'd planned it. I only took 3 months off after having Sam before embarking on business planning, meetings and training to start my own childcare business and 7 months after he was born I opened my business. I'd worked solidly since then up until I was 23 weeks pregnant with Emilie and needed to finish to rest. That's who I am and what I want to do and now I feel like everything is on hold while I wait for a baby. I'm not used to having this level of uncertainty or being as out of control as this.
I really don't understand why things like this happen and at the moment I'm struggling to see how any good can come out of this situation. I am clinging to the fact that when I finally have my baby I can look back on this stage in my life as being a journey of growth-a season where we could do nothing but hope and trust but just a season none the less. Some of the best support I've had since Emilie died is from women who've also lost children; who've been through stillbirth, neonatal death, infant death and even the death of an adult child. There is real comfort in knowing we are not the first (or last) people to experience this and I really appreciate women, for whom I know things are still very painful, using what has happened to them to help me. I really hope that when all of this is over I can use what has happened for good and to give support to other women who have experienced the loss of a child.
2 Corinthians 1:4 (NLT)
4He comforts us in all our troubles so that we can comfort others. When they are troubled, we will be able to give them the same comfort God has given us.
Monday, 6 February 2012
Time to Move on?
Well it's official-I've had a miscarriage. My scan confirmed that my uterus is empty-my baby is gone. The only thing left behind is a large area of clotting which carries a risk of infection so I've been put on a course of anti biotics. I feel completely deflated. Even though I knew my baby had gone, hearing those words were still painful. I truly believed Dr B when she told me 'sorry'-I know she is desperate for us too.
From here we need to wait until I've finished these anti biotics and passed the blood clot. I'll need a D & C if I can't pass it myself and I don't think I can bear that-I just want this whole ordeal over and done with, I want to move forwards. We've been told we can start trying again as soon as I've finished the antibiotics. From a dating point of view there's no point in waiting and, as you're more fertile after having a miscarriage, there's every chance we could conceive naturally. This is what we desperately want but if it doesn't happen I am going to see my fertility consultant in 2 months time to be prescribed progesterone and start my clomid. There's a big risk of twin pregnancies with clomid and due to my clotting problems this could be really dangerous for me and for our babies so we really want (need) to conceive naturally. The only shred of hope I have left is that we'll conceive this cycle without intervention. I have an amazing medical team around me but they can't do anything until I am pregnant - I'm not on their radar until then - and for some reason this really hurts me.
I saw a blog site yesterday called 'knocked up, knocked down' and this is totally how I feel. What must it be like to get pregnant & have no doubt that you'll have a baby at the end of it?
I have no idea why my prayers haven't been answered but I do trust that this will happen for us. It's just a case of when....
From here we need to wait until I've finished these anti biotics and passed the blood clot. I'll need a D & C if I can't pass it myself and I don't think I can bear that-I just want this whole ordeal over and done with, I want to move forwards. We've been told we can start trying again as soon as I've finished the antibiotics. From a dating point of view there's no point in waiting and, as you're more fertile after having a miscarriage, there's every chance we could conceive naturally. This is what we desperately want but if it doesn't happen I am going to see my fertility consultant in 2 months time to be prescribed progesterone and start my clomid. There's a big risk of twin pregnancies with clomid and due to my clotting problems this could be really dangerous for me and for our babies so we really want (need) to conceive naturally. The only shred of hope I have left is that we'll conceive this cycle without intervention. I have an amazing medical team around me but they can't do anything until I am pregnant - I'm not on their radar until then - and for some reason this really hurts me.
I saw a blog site yesterday called 'knocked up, knocked down' and this is totally how I feel. What must it be like to get pregnant & have no doubt that you'll have a baby at the end of it?
I have no idea why my prayers haven't been answered but I do trust that this will happen for us. It's just a case of when....
Sunday, 5 February 2012
Feeling It
I'm really feeling the effects of what's happened now. I'm so tired, so drained and so low. I'm wondering how it's possible to lose 2 babies in the space of 4 months-especially when one of them should have survived and should be here now, a happy and healthy 4 month old.
Everything hurts; I feel like I've been mugged and all I can do is lie down and feel it. I'm wondering though if this is something I need to do? After Emilie died I didn't rest. We went
out and did something together, or with Sam, nearly every day. Anything to mask the pain. Now I'm too tired. In the past I've suffered from CFS(ME) and every time I get ill a wave of fear washes over me that it'll return. I'm determined not to let that happen and am trying to make the most of being forced to rest and letting people do things for me-something I'm not very good at!
I'm trying to see this whole situation as a blip and move forwards. I have my appointment with Dr B tomorrow to see if everything has cleared from my uterus. I think it has. I feel that this in itself is God looking after me. I don't think I could lie there again and be told that my baby is dead inside me but I'm certain I passed him myself. I'm actually feeling ok about tomorrow and am quite hope filled for Dr B giving us the go ahead to try again. I know that she is also desperate for us to have a healthy baby. She used the word 'blip' herself on Tuesday and it's a word that keeps popping into my mind. Please God, let this just be a blip so that we're not held back too much on moving forward...
Everything hurts; I feel like I've been mugged and all I can do is lie down and feel it. I'm wondering though if this is something I need to do? After Emilie died I didn't rest. We went
out and did something together, or with Sam, nearly every day. Anything to mask the pain. Now I'm too tired. In the past I've suffered from CFS(ME) and every time I get ill a wave of fear washes over me that it'll return. I'm determined not to let that happen and am trying to make the most of being forced to rest and letting people do things for me-something I'm not very good at!
I'm trying to see this whole situation as a blip and move forwards. I have my appointment with Dr B tomorrow to see if everything has cleared from my uterus. I think it has. I feel that this in itself is God looking after me. I don't think I could lie there again and be told that my baby is dead inside me but I'm certain I passed him myself. I'm actually feeling ok about tomorrow and am quite hope filled for Dr B giving us the go ahead to try again. I know that she is also desperate for us to have a healthy baby. She used the word 'blip' herself on Tuesday and it's a word that keeps popping into my mind. Please God, let this just be a blip so that we're not held back too much on moving forward...
Thursday, 2 February 2012
Platitudes and Happy Endings?
Why do people think that the fact that we got pregnant quickly is a comfort? This is the one thing that most people are saying. As my husband said, 'it's still another 2 months and another dead baby'.
I sometimes think that people genuinely don't know what to say and as a result end up saying things that aren't of any comfort or support at all or can actually be quite insulting.
I'm trying to cling onto any hope I have left-and there isn't much. Alot of people are talking to us about this being a story and that this isn't the end of our story. I'm focusing on the future and thinking about what an amazing end our story will have-what an amazing testimony this will be when we finally have our baby - and finally complete our family - and what a potential comfort our story will be to people who are going through similar things. But at the moment we're in the middle of our story and it's an incredibly painful place to be. Every minute of every day hurts. I'm watching my dreams being flushed away again and I don't know how much more I can take.
A friend emailed me and spoke about the story of Job. He's a 'good man' in the Bible and the story goes that Satan approaches God and asks for permission to test Job thinking that the only reason he serves God is because his life is near perfect. God agrees to this (I still don't know why-but then why has God agreed to let this happen to us?) and Job loses everything; his home, his business, his family. As if this isn't enough he is then covered in painful sores. But he never turns his back on God, even though his wife tells him to. He carries on serving and worshipping him even though he's in terrible pain. And the story goes on... At the end of the book (chapter 42) Job is fully restored. God gives him 3 more daughters and 7 more sons, sheep, camels, oxen, donkeys-more than he had ever had in his early life. The story ends 'Job lived on another hundred and forty years, living to see his children and grandchildren--four generations of them! Then he died--an old man, a full life.' (MSG-Job 42:16-17)
Please God, give us our happy ending - give us out chapter 42.
I sometimes think that people genuinely don't know what to say and as a result end up saying things that aren't of any comfort or support at all or can actually be quite insulting.
I'm trying to cling onto any hope I have left-and there isn't much. Alot of people are talking to us about this being a story and that this isn't the end of our story. I'm focusing on the future and thinking about what an amazing end our story will have-what an amazing testimony this will be when we finally have our baby - and finally complete our family - and what a potential comfort our story will be to people who are going through similar things. But at the moment we're in the middle of our story and it's an incredibly painful place to be. Every minute of every day hurts. I'm watching my dreams being flushed away again and I don't know how much more I can take.
A friend emailed me and spoke about the story of Job. He's a 'good man' in the Bible and the story goes that Satan approaches God and asks for permission to test Job thinking that the only reason he serves God is because his life is near perfect. God agrees to this (I still don't know why-but then why has God agreed to let this happen to us?) and Job loses everything; his home, his business, his family. As if this isn't enough he is then covered in painful sores. But he never turns his back on God, even though his wife tells him to. He carries on serving and worshipping him even though he's in terrible pain. And the story goes on... At the end of the book (chapter 42) Job is fully restored. God gives him 3 more daughters and 7 more sons, sheep, camels, oxen, donkeys-more than he had ever had in his early life. The story ends 'Job lived on another hundred and forty years, living to see his children and grandchildren--four generations of them! Then he died--an old man, a full life.' (MSG-Job 42:16-17)
Please God, give us our happy ending - give us out chapter 42.
Wednesday, 1 February 2012
The (Not Very) Calm Before the Storm
So I'm waiting. I've been waiting for 2 years now; waiting for test results, waiting for appointments, waiting for ovulation, waiting for my (ridiculously long & irregular 50 + days) cycle to move on, waiting for blue lines, pink lines & digital 'pregnant' signs, waiting for scans, waiting for babies. And now I'm waiting for the inevitable. My baby is under the recommended size for intervention. This recommendation is in place to ensure that potentially viable pregnancies aren't unnecessarily terminated. I hate that word - termination. It implies a choice, but there's no choice here. In my case, although my baby is tiny, I know that a heart beat was there and then it wasn't. I know my baby is dead. I also understand that this procedure is in place for my own well being. I don't want to be questioning what may or may not have happened if I'd have waited. I have my scan on Monday. They will either tell me a miracle has taken place, tell me I need surgery to remove my baby, or tell me that my body has cleared it.
I am still not having cramps and bleeding is still sporadic. I know that this is the calm before the storm but the waiting is wearing me down. I know that God has come through for me before but I have nothing left. If you pray then please pray for a miracle. Or pray that my body will have cleared it. I can't face surgery and I certainly can't face any more waiting...
I am still not having cramps and bleeding is still sporadic. I know that this is the calm before the storm but the waiting is wearing me down. I know that God has come through for me before but I have nothing left. If you pray then please pray for a miracle. Or pray that my body will have cleared it. I can't face surgery and I certainly can't face any more waiting...
Tuesday, 31 January 2012
A Blip...
The bleeding started last night and had got heavier by this morning. I had another scan this morning which confirmed my baby has died. It has been 2 years now filled with discussions, consultant appointments, medication and trying for babies. I'm just wondering when I'll get my chance?
Monday, 30 January 2012
4.9 mm of Hope...
I went back to the hospital for my repeat scan today. I was terrified and struggled with the whole 'full bladder' thing as I was so nervous I had to go to the loo 4 times before my scan!! Dr B scanned me and straight away told me that there'd been progress since my last scan. She kept telling me that she could see the embryo but it was very tiny. She then asked if I'd had any bleeding and my heart just sank....
Minutes later she said 'there's the heart beat. I'm very, very happy-it's a viable pregnancy'. I can't believe it! I feel like I can finally say 'I'm pregnant' and took great joy in calling my wonderful friend to tell her straight away. We have been through 2 premature births, a still birth and 3 miscarriages between us and she understands better than anyone what I'm experiencing. What a joy to be able to finally tell her!
I'm still feeling pretty scared if I'm honest but it says in black and white in my notes 'crown to rump length 4.9 mm' 'fetal heart action seen'. It IS real and it IS happening to me.
I've started my fragmin injections tonight-ouch! I'm making a point of taking joy in each sharp scratch of the needle-it's one day closer to meeting my baby!!
Minutes later she said 'there's the heart beat. I'm very, very happy-it's a viable pregnancy'. I can't believe it! I feel like I can finally say 'I'm pregnant' and took great joy in calling my wonderful friend to tell her straight away. We have been through 2 premature births, a still birth and 3 miscarriages between us and she understands better than anyone what I'm experiencing. What a joy to be able to finally tell her!
I'm still feeling pretty scared if I'm honest but it says in black and white in my notes 'crown to rump length 4.9 mm' 'fetal heart action seen'. It IS real and it IS happening to me.
I've started my fragmin injections tonight-ouch! I'm making a point of taking joy in each sharp scratch of the needle-it's one day closer to meeting my baby!!
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