Tag: infant loss

What used to be my favourite month and time of the year

May.

It used to be my favourite month of the year. Not just because it is my birthday month, but also because it is spring and everything is new and fresh and it just brings forth a positive vibe. The grass is growing, the flowers are blooming, and the weather is warmer.

Now I dread spring, and I dread May.

It is the time of the year that is now full of sadness and tramatic memories. Memories that I both cherish and dispise.

Two years ago, I knew that Hunter was not doing that well, but I didn’t know that less than a week later I would have to say goodbye. We had a few close calls, but he always came around.

This time we were not so lucky. This time we had to say goodbye. This time my heart broke. Now this time of year is no longer my favourite. I am miserable and angry at everything.

I wish that for the month of May I could disappear and not have to face the world.

Happy Birthday to my Angel

This post is a day late, but I just wasn’t up to it yesterday. 

Two years old is how old you should be. Instead of celebrating with you we celebrated without you. This will never be good enough and never be easy. 

Xander and I spent the morning baking birthday cookies. Last year we made cupcakes. Then we all went to visit your ashes, sing happy birthday and eat your cookies. 

It is not how we wish we were spending your birthday. We wish we were watching you open presents and run around all excited like a regular two year old. 

Last year I wrote a little poem for you and thought that I would carry on tradition and write another verse. 

2015-1st Birthday 

Today we should be celebrating and watching you smash cake,

Instead we visit your grave and think of your unfair fate. 

What we would give to see you just one more time,

To hold your tiny hand and look into your bright eyes. 

Our lives are now incomplete,

Until that day where we will meet. 

Rest in peace sweet baby boy,

Today we will try and celebrate your joy. 

  
2016-2nd Birthday 

Happy Birthday to you,

Today you should be two. 

Running around,

Enjoying playgrounds.

How we wish you were here,

Instead we face our worst fear. 

So today we celebrate you,

All the while trying not to be blue. 

Happy Birthday to you,

Happy Birthday to you. 

  

Happy Birthday Hunter. Our precious little acorn who we love and miss you oh so much. 

Twelve Weeks

The time in a pregnancy you normally feel safe to start telling your friends and family that your family will be expanding. That was when we told with our first pregnancy. We didn’t think otherwise. We were excited. With our second we had a scare and were dealing with some tests so we didn’t share with everyone. We didn’t tell most until we really had no choice because it was quite obvious I was pregnant. I was over four months (16 weeks) by that point. It should have been a safe time to tell. Two and a half weeks later my water broke.

There really is no safe time. So when I got pregnant for the third time I had it in my mind that I would tell people as I saw fit. I didn’t go yelling be it from the roof top or tell everyone I knew that’s just not how I am, but I had told a few people. We were excited and scared.

Actually scared is an understatement. I was TERRIFIED. What if what happened with Hunter happened again?! I don’t think I could survive that type of loss again. Losing one child was hard enough on us, I couldn’t imagine losing a second.

At first everything seemed to be going fine. Blood work as good, I was feeling good, though a little tired and my cultures came back normal. But until I saw it on the ultrasound I knew I wouldn’t calm down.

Due to my now high risk I was required to have bloodwork, cultures and an ultrasound every four weeks. Four weeks ago today I went for my first ultrasound. I was just over eight weeks. There wasn’t much to see but the technician confirmed looks like only one baby and everything looks great. I saw and heard baby’s heartbeat. I started to relax a little. It finally sunk in. I’m pregnant again. Our rainbow baby. Xander will get to be a big brother again. I even let myself get a little excited.

And just like that everything changed. Just over twenty-four hours after my ultrasound I started to feel awful. I just knew something wasn’t right. I was keeled over in pain and then the bleeding started. It was the beginning of the end or our rainbow.

It was just Xander and I home. My poor Xander. It’s no wonder he seems older than his age. He has been through and seen so much. I tried to hide him from my pain but he knew something wasn’t right. I decided in that moment that I would break the stigma about not talking about miscarriage. I explained it to him the best I could. He was so amazing. Asking how he could help. Getting himself ready for bed and looking after the dogs. All five of them. He wouldn’t leave my side until Ian got home.

One in four pregnancies end in miscarriage that is unexplainable or just happens for some reason unknown to those involved. It is something that doctors are trained to say to you. “We don’t know why, but it happens often. It’s normal.” The way they say it just makes you feel like you should just accept it and move on. It happens to lots of people, you can try again. Well when you have been working on having a family for seven years and it’s still not completed the way your heart anticipated, hearing those words is like a slap in the face.

It hurts. Having experienced the loss of an infant and miscarriage I can testify that both are painful and emotionally challenging. Was loosing Hunter harder. Most definitely. Maybe if my miscarriage had been before my loss of Hunter it wouldn’t have felt as hard or hurt so much. That I can’t say for sure. What I can say is that it does hurt. This baby was hopes and dreams, and represented a light at the end of the tunnel. It put a little happiness back into our lives. A hope that is now gone.

It was here one day and gone the next.

Endure

For the month of July my calendar at work is entitled “Endure”, everyday it is a reminder to me to keep going.

One definition I found of Endure is; “to continue to exist.”

Which I am sure is how many people who have suffered a loss or traumatic event feel. At least that is how I often feel. That I am continuing to exist, but that is all.

You continue to push through and do what you need to do to survive.

I look back through our time in the NICU with Hunter, and I’m not really sure how I existed or how I even made it home some days. It was a long trek back and forth from home to Mt. Sinai, minimum an hour each way, when there wasn’t some sort of traffic. The offer of staying in the Ronald MacDonald house was given to us, but having Xander and especially the dogs made this not really an option. So back and forth commuting was what I had to do.

Commuting is not new to me, I do it everyday for work, but commuting and paying for gas and parking in downtown Toronto, on an EI income is slightly challenging to say the least. I often had to limit my visits because I didn’t have the funds to pay for gas or parking. I wanted so badly to be there all day everyday with Hunter, but at $20 a day for parking, plus $15 in gas a day x 7 days a week, that would have taken more than half of my EI cheque each week. And even though I had taken critical illness insurance out for my children, because Hunter’s illness was not one of the ten specified illnesses the insurance company deemed critical, we did not qualify for insurance money to help with the costs.

I wanted so badly to be part of the Parent Care program that Mt. Sinai offered, but you had to be able to commit to being there everyday for 8 hours at a time. Something that I was not able to do. One because of the cost of commuting and two because I also had Xander to think of. I am his mother too and therefore the guilt I had and still have bears heavy on my heart. The guilt of leaving Xander to be with Hunter and the guilt of not being with Hunter more.

I am digressing slightly, but this is what lead me to my evening and overnight visits with Hunter. Why I am surprised I was still able to drive and function when I look back on my schedule during that time. I would spend most days with Xander, unless we needed to meet with doctors specifically during the day, and nights were Hunter’s. I would aim to be downtown for 5pm, when I could enter the parking garage and only have to pay $5 to park. There were many nights when I would arrive home and wonder how I got there, want to just crawl under the covers, but then realize it was now time to pump. When I look back at my schedule I realize I was lucky to have 3 hours of sleep each night. Which was usually between 2am – 5am. Then it was time to get up and pump again, and when that was done and the pump was all cleaned up, milk stored and labelled in the freezer, it was time for Xander to wake up and have breakfast.

But as a mother we do what we have to do for our children, we endure. I would do it all over again to have more time with Hunter and would have continued to do it if it meant that he would have been with us longer.

If you’re going through hell, keep going.

~ Winston Churchill

Keep going because there is an end, whether it be a happy ending or a sad one. Endure because that is all that we can do in order to survive.

Bring me back to life

How can you see into my eyes, like open doors
Leading you down into my core
Where I’ve become so numb, without a soul
My spirit’s sleeping somewhere cold
Until you find it there and lead it back home

Wake me up, wake me up inside I can’t wake up,
Wake me up inside, save me,
Call my name and save me from the dark, wake me up
Bid my blood to run, I can’t wake up
Before I come undone, save me
Save me from the nothing I’ve become

Now that I know what I’m without
You can’t just leave me
Breathe into me and make me real, bring me to life

Wake me up, wake me up inside I can’t wake up,
Wake me up inside, save me,
Call my name and save me from the dark, wake me up
Bid my blood to run, I can’t wake up
Before I come undone, save me
Save me from the nothing I’ve become

Bring me to life, I’ve been living a lie
There’s nothing inside, bring me to life

Frozen inside without your touch
Without your love, darling
Only you are the life among the dead

All this time, I can’t believe I couldn’t see
Kept in the dark, but you were there in front of me

I’ve been sleeping a thousand years it seems
I’ve got to open my eyes to everything

Without a thought, without a voice, without a soul

Don’t let me die here
There must be something wrong, bring me to life

Wake me up, wake me up inside I can’t wake up,
Wake me up inside, save me,
Call my name and save me from the dark, wake me up
Bid my blood to run, I can’t wake up
Before I come undone, save me
Save me from the nothing I’ve become

Bring me to life, I’ve been living a lie, there’s nothing inside
Bring me to life

~Evanescence

One of my favourite songs came on the radio this morning as I was driving to the train. It about sums up how I feel. Like I’m stuck in a dark nightmare and I can’t wake up. I just feel numb. I wish and need to find my way out, find a way to breath, how to bring me back to life.

I want to just feel happy and get back the positiveness that I used to be able to find, but I’m just stuck. Stuck trying to breath. Struggling to get through a day, pretending that I am happy to be wherever I am.

I just want to scream and yell……

…….every time I hear a woman complain about being pregnant, about how uncomfortable they are. Like seriously shut your face before I punch you in the gut and you’re no longer pregnant. Well I wouldn’t actually do that ever, but like come on. Shut your mouth and think about what you are saying. Or the complaints about lack of sleep because of a newborn, or the attitude that their 3 and 5 year olds are giving them.

Stop and think about what you are saying and who might be hearing it.

You are complaining about something that is a complete miracle. Something that you should be oh so grateful to have. Something that so many people cannot have and want so badly. It is like taking a piece of meat and dangling it outside of the tiger cage. You are teasing the poor animal that just wants the meat. Do you think that is fair and considerate of you? Well it isn’t.

This post may be a little harsh and angry, but this is how I feel when I hear the complaints. Do you know what I would give to be 36 – 40 weeks pregnant, with swollen ankles and dying from the heat? I would give a lot; and I know a few other women in the same boat.

Of course these complaints are done in the innocence of the moment and lack of knowledge to what they mean to someone else, but it doesn’t make them hurt any less.

I also want to rant and complain about the days when Xander is being a stubborn know it all 5 year old, but then I stop and think, I am oh so lucky to have him as a stubborn know it all 5 year old. And so I don’t. Because I know I have several friends who don’t have a stubborn know it all 5 year old, and that those comments and complaints would hurt them.

I know, because I wish I had two stubborn know it all children………

July 3rd, 2014

What should have been Hunter’s due date.

From the moment that I got pregnant with Hunter I assumed that he wouldn’t be born on his due date. The chances of me carrying a baby to term is unknown. Xander was born at 34 weeks, so I was not expecting to make it to 40 with Hunter, but I definitely wasn’t expecting for my water to break at 18 weeks and him to be born at 24. My water never broke at all with Xander and the two premature births had no relation to each other.

After Xander was born I had made sure that the doctors felt it safe for me to have more children, I never wanted only one child, but after two and a half years I thought I should try and get used to the idea, though I didn’t want to. Then I found out I was pregnant and that sometime before July 3rd, 2014 that would change.

Although July 3rd wasn’t when I expected to meet Hunter, it was still the date that was always discussed at all appointments or whenever anyone asked when I was due. So today I am not having the greatest of days.

Today should be a day where I am watching Hunter getting ready to start walking, it should be the day that I am dreading going back to work. It should not be a day that I am sitting staring at my computer, trying to write my performance evaluation and development plan for work. Two items that I dread doing on a good day, never mind on a day when I feel like this.

I am finding it very hard to write about where I want to be or be doing in one or five years from now. To be honest, I don’t care. My career drive is gone and I am finding it very difficult to get it back. To me getting up most days is tough. Finding energy to make it through the day, to not burst into tears, or yell at someone because I am just angry. That is enough of a challenge. Putting on a nice fake smile to just get through the day is exhausting.

Hopefully one day July 3rd will just be another day, not a day that reminds me of what I want and can’t have. What I almost had and was taken away from me.

Lucky to be Canadian……..

IMG_5851_2lowresHappy Birthday Canada!

Yesterday was Canada Day, our country turned 148. Xander spent the day with my parents since he is there all week, as my mom is off work and school is out. The house was so quiet. I didn’t even get out of PJs until after noon. Which for anyone who knows me, is not like me at all. Even everyday that I was on mat leave with Xander, the first thing I did in the morning was shower and get dressed, that was unless Xander woke to eat first. But then it was the first thing I did after. I just can’t start a day without doing that. It was weird but nice to be a little lazy. I knit and caught up on season 4 of Homeland. I took some time for me.

Throughout my lazy morning I did some thinking about how lucky we are to live in Canada. How lucky I was that during my time with Hunter that I was able to be off work and spend as much time with him as I could. Many countries don’t have the options we have for work leaves and many parents are faced with the costs of being off work with no income, never mind the additional costs that they also face from the stay at the hospital and NICU.

We were also lucky that in Canada our health care is pretty advanced. If it wasn’t and I hadn’t had the option to deliver at Mt. Sinai than we probably wouldn’t have had the time with Hunter that we had. He required breathing support from the moment he was born, since his lungs were so far underdeveloped from the lack of amniotic fluid. If the medical technology that we have here in Canada was not available to us than Hunter would not have survived more than a few moments. We would have had to say hello and goodbye within an instant of each other. Although our time together was too short, I would not trade that time we had, I only want more.

I was not lucky that my water broke at 18 weeks 4 days.

I was not lucky Hunter was born at 24 weeks 5 days.

I was not lucky that Hunter died at 8 weeks old.

I am lucky to be Canadian and live in Canada.

Taking Time for Me

So it has been a little while, okay too long since my last post. I have had so many topics I have wanted to write about, but with the start of summer, life has just taken a turn for the busy and I have not had the time to write. Okay, I have not taken the time to write.

Over the last month or so, I have had a real wake up call for the need to take some time for me. Since Hunter passed I have just tried to keep as busy as I can be; at every moment of everyday. To distract myself from the pain and devastation that is inside. But I have come to the realization that I need to start thinking about myself. Something that I have never been the best at doing. A quality I get from my mother.

My mom is the type of person who puts everyone else before herself, for everything. Yes most mother’s put their children and family before themselves, but anyone who has met my mom knows that it’s not just her family, it’s everyone.

She is the person who because her customers are elderly and there is no one to bring them to sign their papers, will go to them. Not on her work hours either, on her own time. And not so that she makes some sales commission, it’s so that they will be able to get a payment so as not to lose their house. Or goes out of her way to drive those that can’t to and from church. She has been known to go grocery shopping for those who cannot and I cannot tell you the amount of times she has given up time she should be at home doing her own housework to go and do it for others instead. I could really go on and on about what she does for others. To get my mom to do something for herself almost has to be forced.

The part that is the kicker is that I feel guilty about taking time for myself. I don’t want to be one of those selfish people who are so into themselves and over dramatize everything as if the world is ending. I just feel the need to take a step back and away and concentrate on my family. I’m not really sure how this is going to go, but I think it is something I need to do.

Two weekends ago I blocked out most communication with people other than posting a pic or two of our adventures and spent two full days just playing with Xander. It felt so nice. Like a weight lifted off my shoulders. We put up a tent and hung out in that, went to the park and just did nothing but play. We had nothing scheduled. It was a little weird at first, but it was so nice.

That weekend made me realize that maybe this is the right thing to do. That maybe taking time for me is what I need. Grief is so overwhelming and if you just bottle it in, trying to block it out; one day it is just going to explode. And trust me, I wouldn’t want to be around me when that happened. It could get messy.

So if you’re grieving, take that time for you. Don’t let others make you feel guilty for not wanting to be somewhere or do something.

It’s my birthday and I will cry if I want to

Celebrating events or special days can be a little bit of an emotional challenge at times. You want to be happy and celebrate, but every so often this little pang will pop into your mind and you are reminded of what is missing.

A few weeks ago my mom was asking me what I wanted for my birthday, my husband did the same. Honestly there is only one thing I want, and that one thing I can’t have, so it makes everything else seem trivial.

I was already missing Hunter and wishing he was here with us to celebrate and then I went to the mailbox and what was in the box, but a formula sample. Happy Birthday, here is a package for your dead son. No matter how many times I have unsubscribed or emailed to tell them my son is no longer with us, they just keep sending them. On a good day this upsets me, but on my birthday, it was a little worse. It was another reminder that he should be here and he isn’t.

I did have a wonderful day, I got to spend some nice quality time with my family and friends, and received so many wonderful warm wishes and messages. But even through out all of the fun and laughter, I missed the little person that should have been here with me.

Maybe one day celebrations will become easier, part of me doesn’t want them to be, I want to remember that Hunter should be here celebrating with us. I don’t ever want to forget him or not be reminded of him. His time here was so short that I worry that one day things won’t remind me of him. For this reason I would prefer to take moments and be sad, sometimes we just need to do that. Even if it feels as if the whole world just keeps spinning around you when you do.

If you have been through something traumatic or lost someone you love, you probably can relate to that emptiness that you feel during celebrations. If you know of someone who has been through a loss whether it was recent or even years past, remember that if they seem a little off at what should be a celebration, that they are probably remembering and just need a moment to themselves. Give them that moment to themselves, or better yet give them a hug and say something about the person you know that they are missing. Join them in a memory so that the person they are missing becomes a part of the celebration too.

It is okay to just cry if you want to.