Here Comes the Sun [Son]

I was humming this after my MFM appt today.

I mean, how can you look at this face and not hum a song like that?

And if any of you are wondering, little brother is not so much a show his face kind of guy. We've never seen him full on, as he tends to hide himself with his hands. But, wow, what a cutie. I love his "power to the people" fist, too. A little fighter, I love it!

Just wish they were both with me. 

Adios Sonoline B

The fetal doppler has peace'd out.

I can't say I'm surprised. I've been using that thing roughly 3-5 (10? I have had a couple of those days) times per day since December. Now when I put it on my belly, it emits a lovely whining noise and the screen tends to go blank.

Last night, I was checking little guy's heartbeat with it and it told me it was 112. Before I had a coronary and told my husband we needed to go to L&D, I decided to test it on my own heartbeat. So I put it up over my own heartbeat. 135.

Ok. Time to let this one go.

Sweet hubby has already ordered fetal doppler #2, to be shipped overnight to us. He had no choice, as I was starting to go into hyperventilation mode thinking of the next 6 weeks without my doppler.

Don't judge.

Keeping Watch

I am exhausted. Mentally, emotionally, spiritually, physically.

I've reached that oh so lovely point in pregnancy where I have started to feel like my body is literally creaking every time I want to change position. Baby boy is cramped too, I can tell. He likes to shove his back up against the right side of my belly, which is something his big sis loved to do too. My babies seem to love that side of my body.

I'm just tired of the vigilance this pregnancy after loss seems to require. Just. So. Tired. I'm tired of the sleepless nights, of the moment several times I day where I think "ok, he's gone," the restlessness, the irritability. Add on top of that my impending sense of doom and dread, and the sheer breathtaking grief that still hits me more often than I'd like, and I'm just tired.

I'm sick of the stupid comments. Yesterday at Easter brunch, someone asked me if I have "everything I need" for the baby. Uh...well, we have Georgie's stuff. I guess we need a co-sleeper, although I've thought to myself that maybe we could use our pack and play from last time. But I'm having a c-section (read: another complication with Georgie's birth that could have proved fatal if she hadn't already been gone, yeah, the universe really did mean to doom me on that one, one way or the other), I think I need a co-sleeper, like an Arm's Reach type of deal.

I haven't bought this yet. I can't bring myself to grace the doors of Babies R' Us. It was all I could do to read the "Happy First Birthday!" card I received a couple of weeks from them, or to even get coupons in the mail. I'm worried if I actually get in there, I'll just start hyperventilating.

I also need a carseat, because I just can't bring myself to use the green and pink one I had bought for my daughter. Of course I picked pink, thinking I would use it for her awhile, never thinking that reality would drive me to shove it in a closet and try my damnedest to get pregnant again after burying my daughter six months earlier. Never did I imagine I would need yet another carseat so quickly after my first child was born. Without pink, of course.

I had somehow thought I had a lot of white onesies with Georgie. No, not so much. I did, but they almost all have pink or purple detail. Sigh. So I need to buy some of those for little baby brother.

Back to the Easter conversation. After I sort of shrugged off the question, someone at brunch (not anyone related to me, though he knows what happened to us), says, "do you all have a monitor?" I tell him yes, although I'm thinking of upgrading. He then says, "well they have a great infrared monitor out there that actually checks if your baby's still alive or something crazy like that."

It was the way he said it. I don't even think I'm a good enough writer to explain it in this blog, but it just Pissed. Me. Off. I feel as if I can only explain this story with cuss words and wild hand gestures, but I could feel the heat rising in my face.

Then he proceeded to say, "Ah well, with your first you'll be totally freaked out. Then by your second, you'll start to relax and by the third you won't even care."

I don't know what to say other than that I wished I wasn't pregnant so I could reach across the table and punch this d-bag in the face. I couldn't even talk back. I was just stunned that this person knew what we had been through, and now somehow this little guy inside me is my first, rather than the universal truth that he is actually my second. And I will never be naive enough again to think that I'm going to somehow relax with subsequent children. Right, dude.

Yesterday was just more difficult and more sad than I thought it would be. Easter makes me think of little girls running through flowers, little girls with beautiful honey blond hair and beautiful easter dresses. I saw so many little girls wearing easter dresses yesterday at church, and it just made me so sad. I missed my girl so much. I hope and pray that next Easter I have a beautiful little boy in my arms who is struggling to get out so he can walk/crawl/toddle around, but it just doesn't take away the heartache of missing my girl at Easter.

We went out to the cemetery yesterday, and we arrived to discover that there is nothing but dirt and mud around her grave and about 6 other baby markers. I noticed this during her birthday week and had called them to see when they were going to sod. They assured me it would be "done by Easter."

It hasn't been.

I am also pretty pissed about this. Not even sure how to address it, but I'm pretty sure not-so-nice Katie is coming out and heads are going to roll. I'm not happy. How hard is it to maintain a cemetery? It's just like a big yard. Just keep the grass green, and you're doing pretty good. But I'm angry about it.

I'm obviously very on edge. When I explained to my OB today that I had a damn near panic attack on Friday during my NST because I was convinced my baby was going to die in the middle of the NST, he told me he wants me on an anti-anxiety med. I'm not sure about this, but I can recognize that at this point, I'm in some stage or another of panic attack all the time right now.

A really hard part of it is how torn I feel about everything. Excited. Terrified. Telling myself to be constantly vigilant to try and save this baby before he's born. Knowing that my daughter's death could not have been prevented, that she died likely within a matter of minutes and that there was really nothing we could have done to save her. Telling her little brother all the time "to hang on" until he's here with us, when obviously he has no control over whether he lives or dies at this point, and also knowing that just because my baby is with me doesn't mean he gets to stay. That crazy, random, shitty ass luck happens all the time to all kinds of people. Somehow thinking I have some control. Knowing I really don't. Begging and pleading with God to keep this little boy safe, and telling God candidly that I'm pissed He didn't save my first and that I don't understand the plan at all.

Tired. Glad to rant, though.
May 24 cannot get here soon enough.

Happy First Birthday in Heaven

Happy first birthday in heaven, my sweet and beautiful angel. Daddy and I miss you terribly, but talked about how wonderful it must be for you today. Something tells us God planned something special for you for your first heavenly party. We love you more than life itself, and wish that you were with us. Little brother danced all day; it's like he knew it was your special day and he was celebrating right along with us. Daddy and I blew out the candle and Mommy ate most of the cupcake. We decorated your marker with all the beautiful flowers from your birthday party and some pinwheels we bought just for you. It looks so pretty. It rained today. We kept you in our hearts and minds, like we always do, our sweet first baby. We wait and hope for the day we get to see you again. Always, Mama

A Beautiful Celebration

Yesterday we celebrated Georgie's first birthday in heaven.

I really wanted to do something special for her birthday, just as if she were here.  A lovely party.

At the beginning, I couldn't figure out what I wanted to do. I prayed about it. I thought long and hard. I waffled, not sure what to do.

So I decided on a theme--a garden. Since Georgiana's name means "seed sower" and she was born on the first day of spring, I knew it was perfect.

From there, I used a lot of the themes I used in her nursery--birds, owls, butterflies and flowers. I bought things that made me happy, and began to plan around that. I decided not to include things that made me sad. That included a birthday cake. It also included having to say happy birthday to her in public, or sing to her. I just couldn't do it.

Dave and I settled on a mass and brunch for close friends and family.

Why mass? The only mass I had connected to her was her funeral. That of course did not sit well with me. I wanted something where we were not so...ripped apart and broken. I wanted something that Dave and I could plan, think of, and use as a way to lift people's hearts to Jesus. I wanted my daughter to influence us in the way she can now, in a holy way, in a way that gives people grace, peace and hope.

And really, the funeral is never the end. We as families go on on this earth without our children, but we hold the love for them in our hearts, and the hope to see them again. So why not another mass to celebrate my daughter's short and sweet little life?

So we planned our mass around that idea, as a celebration, as an opportunity to praise God and be uplifted, as bringing beauty from the ashes, so to speak.

We chose three readings and a psalm.

Dave read the first reading, Isaiah 25:6, 7-9. It is a beautiful reading about God preparing a feast for his people, lifting the shroud that covers us, swallowing up death forever and wiping the tears from our faces. What a powerful image. I wait for the day.

The psalm was psalm 145, when David praises his King. In the Catholic church, we sing psalms, and this one has always been one of my favorites. We had a beautiful soprano sing for the entire mass, and it sounded like the voice of an angel.

The second reading is from 2 Corinthians 4:1-18. I read this one. If I had thought it through a little better, I probably would have had Dave read this one. This is one of my favorite passages of scripture, and really puts death and life, and faith in the proper context. However, about halfway through the reading, I began to choke up. I'm not even sure why, but I wasn't sure if I would finish. I did, and was able to go back to my seat to have a two-minute ugly cry.

The gospel was from Luke 1:39-45, what is commonly called the Visitation. I always loved this gospel story, long before I lost my little one or was ever pregnant. In this story, when Mary comes to visit Elizabeth, the baby (later the apostle) John leaps in Elizabeth's womb at the coming of His Lord. What an incredible insight into our babies in the womb, that they know God even then! I believe this, and am sure when Georgie saw her Savior, she already knew Him. It just warms my heart.

We chose the following songs:
I Want to Walk As a Child of the Light
Pie Jesu
Taste and See
Be Not Afraid

The songs were perfect. When we were singing the first song, all I could think of was my child surrounded in heavenly light. What a comfort to my heart and soul it was, as I look back on this dark and cold year and think how much Dave and I have suffered. This morning was a bright spot, and a beautiful way to celebrate our daughter, her importance, the gift she was to us.

The flowers were beautiful. My parents gave them to us for the service, pink and green like her nursery. They also ordered a beautiful little bouquet for her picture that I have sitting in water to take to her for her birthday on Wednesday.

Our priest, Father Rick, gave a beautiful homily about Georgiana celebrating her first year in heaven, with Jesus, with the saints, and celebrating St. Patrick's day with St. Patrick himself! It made me smile. He talked about how losing a child is the worst suffering we can endure, and that we don't understand God's plan, but that today we were celebrating our child as already in heaven, and that we will all see her, and God in all His glory, someday.

My youngest brother, Clay, served the mass. One of his best friends, Matt, and his older brother Cody, served with him. It was only fitting. Clay helped carry her casket nearly a year ago. Cody helped Father Rick graveside after her funeral. Things felt just...right....that morning, unlike the deep wrong of nearly a year ago.

Of course, all this is to say that it's not as if Dave and I don't hurt everyday for our baby, and often hurt so bad it feels like breathing is hard. I am sure I will feel that many times this week. I still don't know what to do on March 20. I certainly can't "celebrate" it, as it's the day my daughter died. I am still struggling with it, but I think the answer will come to me. If not, I'll just sob my way through it. I've done it for a year. I can do it another few days, or years, as it is.

I'll talk more about Part II later, the brunch we had at our house.

Suffice to say the mass really was lovely. I looked out over the small group assembled for her mass, and I saw people wearing green, pink, orange, and I thought, wow, very little black. It was lovely to see. Sad, but lovely. Not so...wrenching as a year ago. My mother even had on bright yellow heels. They were great. Spring-y, and happy. I smiled. I cried. But I smiled.

Here are a few pictures:

 My beautiful girl. I love this picture of her. It really makes me think of heaven. See the little bouquet? So pretty.

 The altar and Georgie girl.

  Georgie girl and her beautiful flowers from her grandparents.

My brother is on the right, though they really look they could all be brothers.

The beautiful program cover, kind of designed by me, really perfected by my friend Annie (same artistic angel who did her announcement, and her invitation up above).

Part II coming soon...

Tonight

Tonight I fed my unborn child McDonald's for dinner.

Yes, I am ashamed of this.

Earlier I was running errands for Georgiana's memorial service and brunch, which we're having Saturday morning.

I ran to drop off the programs at Kinko's. Here's how the conversation went.

Lady behind the register: "Ok, so you need 50 of these?"
Me: "Yes."
Lady: "Can you pick them up tomorrow?"
Me: "Sure."
Lady: (upon opening the file I brought on my zip disk) "Oh! What a cute baby shower invitation."
Me: "It's a...memorial service program."
Lady: "Oh...sorry."

(cue awkward silence)
(cue exasperated sigh as I walked to the car)

One hour later while still running errands, Kinko's lady calls me.

Lady: "Ma'am, I just wanted to let you know I found a typo on the program."
Me: "Oh, ok, what is it?"
Lady: "It says here 'Born March 21, Died March 20.' I think the dates are switched"
Me: "No, that's actually correct."
Lady: [cue awkward silence] "Oh."
Me: "Thanks for calling. I'll pick them up tomorrow."

[cue flinging phone across the room]

Ok I didn't actually throw the phone, but in my mind that's what happened. At that point, I decided to get McDonald's. And as I ate salty french fries and a Quarter Pounder, I felt a little better, if slightly ashamed.

And when I got in bed tonight, I felt a little more better as I cried over my second baby dancing around in my swollen belly.

Plans and Panic

Well, plans are underway for my daughter's "first birthday in heaven" party. I am trying to stay on a more positive note with this, as I want it to be uplifting and not overwhelmingly sad. So, anything that makes me sad is not making the cut. That includes a birthday cake, anything that says first birthday (other than the invitation) and anything that should have been used and now can't be used because my daughter's gone.

But, that leaves room for a whole lot of things that we can use that don't make me so sad. I bought a beautiful glittery little spring-y green tree, and it will have ribbons, owl ornaments, bird ornaments, butterflies and all kinds of other wonderful things that are just my version of what I think heaven must look like for my little girl.

This makes me happy.

I'm also making a menu of foods I craved when pregnant with her. Since I'm now pregnant with her little brother, I have enough experience to know that it's not just pregnancy that made me crave those things, it was pregnancy with her. And so--her. And the foods she liked. This menu includes:

-grilled peach salad (I ate peaches by the pound when pregnant with her)
-chinese chicken salad (also craved this)
-bruschetta (tomatoes and basil, couldn't get enough)
-fruit salad (I could have lived on fruit alone with her)

And what party is complete without cupcakes and cake pops? These are just cute and girly, and I know she would have been. Well, she was.

I look at pictures of her brother in the womb and I realize how much she looked like a girl, and how much he looks like a boy. It really is amazing, even from so early on.

We are also having a memorial mass said for her, with some beautiful readings and beautiful musical selections. I'll share all this later.

In between planning for the party, which is Saturday morning, although her actual birthday is March 21, I also have serious bouts of panic.

Cue to last Sunday. We were at mass, and I realized I had barely felt little guy move for the entire hour. A little more time passed, and we found ourselves at L&D triage. I was on the verge of a full blown panic attack.

We hooked me up to the monitor, and suddenly he was moving. A lot. It sounded like thunder on the monitor every time he moved, and I relaxed a little more.

All I could think going in was "It's March. It's Sunday. I'm screwed."

Now, I'm not a jinxy kind of person, but talk to any BLM and it's really hard not to be, especially during the awful and cursed month of your baby's death. Did I also mention before that my grandfather died in his early 50s on March 20 of a brain aneurysm?

March 20, and March, has started to feel like a totally jinxed and screwy month for my family.

I remember my girl in this month, and am grateful for that, but otherwise I just want to fast foward and wake up April 1.

After everything was good at the ER (with a wonderful nurse, by the way, who will probably be receiving flowers from me in the next week) and we left, I was exhausted. But I immediately shifted back into birthday plans for Georgie.

Anybody else out there just totally spent?