4 Weeks

4 weeks...4 weeks ago my baby girl was born silently in to this world.  It feels as if months have past, while simultaneously it feels like I just held her yesterday.

I miss her so very much. I miss her smell, I miss her tiny perfect little fingers and perfect little toes.  I miss feeling her little hand wrapped around my finger, even though she never grasped back on to mine. I miss her precious little nose that looked so much like her daddy's.

I miss how we were supposed to be together right now.  I miss her kicks, her twists and turns reminding me that she was still there, that she was still fighting.

I miss what she would have become, I miss that I don't get to spend weeks with her on maternity leave. I miss that we will never go out grandmother, mom and baby with my mom. I miss that I will never see her become a daddy's girl, because I know he would have been wrapped around her little finger.

I even miss the nights we would have not slept due to bad sleeping patterns, or sickness. I miss when she would have had tantrums, or the terrible twos or ferocious fours.

I miss her and all she was and all she would have become. I miss my baby girl.

Signs of Baby Beluga

I have become more appreciative every day that we gave Elisa a nickname, and had something to call her throughout the pregnancy, even before we knew she was a she.  I feel like I see our little Baby Beluga everywhere and although it makes me sad she isn't here, I am so glad I have little reminders of her in unlikely places.

Like today, I went to Target to get some thank you notes for all of the wonderful things people have sent us.  And look what was in the stationary section....right at eye level

Of course I picked up a package to use for thank you notes, but then an extra package to keep just to have around the house.

A Child of Mine

A child of mine. I found this poem in a book I just started reading "Sunshine After the Storm, a Survival Guide For the Grieving Mother". This poem gave me a different perspective on the loss of my babies.  I am overcome with grief because they are gone, but that is only because I loved them so much.

"A CHILD OF MINE"

Author: Edgar Guest

I will lend you, for a little time,

A child of mine, He said.

For you to love the while she lives,

And mourn for when she's dead.

It may be six or seven years,

Or twenty-two or three.

But will you, till I call her back,

Take care of her for Me?

She'll bring her charms to gladden you,

And should her stay be brief.

You'll have her lovely memories,

As solace for your grief.

I cannot promise she will stay,

Since all from earth return.

But there are lessons taught down there,

I want this child to learn.

I've looked the wide world over,

In search for teachers true.

And from the throngs that crowd life's lanes,

I have selected you.

Now will you give her all your love,

Nor think the labour vain.

Nor hate me when I come

To take her home again?

I fancied that I heard them say,

'Dear Lord, Thy will be done!'

For all the joys Thy child shall bring,

The risk of grief we'll run.

We'll shelter her with tenderness,

We'll love her while we may,

And for the happiness we've known,

Forever grateful stay.

But should the angels call for her,

Much sooner than we've planned.

We'll brave the bitter grief that comes,

And try to understand.

Not a Crib but a Casket

I know they always say having a funeral and burial is helpful in the grieving process, but I didn't realize it would be this helpful.

Almost every day this week I couldn't pull myself out of bed. Tuesday because it was the day we had to drop her casket (or as we have been calling it, her "bed") off at the funeral home, and Wednesday because it was her funeral.  I just kept getting a pit in my stomach, and a little voice in the back of my head kept saying "maybe if I don't go, it won't happen...maybe if I don't go, none of this actually happened"  But eventually I did get out of bed, and although the days were hard, preparing her "bed", going to her funeral and to her burial, they really did help in my healing.

Tuesday I completed her "bed". My uncle made the actual casket, it was beautiful and it was so wonderful to know so much love went in to making it. The first half of the day  I felt like I didn't have anything personal to give my baby girl.  We had a lot of things planned to go in her casket but nothing hand made/personal. I had planned on making her a hat, but ran out of time while she was still alive, and honestly I did not have the strength to do it in the last week.

So, Tuesday morning laying in bed I finally decided what I wanted to do for her.  I decorated the inside lid of her "bed".  It included a picture of Mark and I holding her at the hospital, her name and birth date and a painted whale and message of love for our "Baby Beluga".

Once that was done, I felt a lot better, like I had made something special for my daughter.  It gave me the energy to put the rest of the things together to go in her bed, and get it ready to go to the funeral home.

In her bed we included: A little mattress and pillow that my aunt made, including the whale baby beluga theme. We also included rosary from my mom, one of  Mark's father's handkerchiefs, an itty bitty teddy bear, and small pink whale stuffed animal.  We also provided the funeral home a dress and hat to dress her in and a blanket to wrap her in.  No socks, since I am notorious for NEVER wearing socks :).  Her dress and blanket are duplicates of what she wore at the hospital, but I kept the ones she wore then.

In this way I am grateful for the fact that we had some time to prepare for the fact that she might be leaving us early.  Having her diagnosis in November, we kept hope and faith that she could hang on, but it also gave us time to prepare for the worst.

I decided to get two of everything we bought for her for the hospital (blanket, dress, hat etc.) just in case , so I could have an identical set with me (and if she made it, it wasn't like it would be a bad thing to have two of the same blankets!).  Being a planner, it helped to have something to prepare before her birth, but I didn't realize how truly helpful this would be until I started to put her "bed" together. And, now, after she has been laid to rest, I cherish that everything she has with her, I also have here with me.

I would highly encourage any other parents in this position to do the same.  As hard as it was to think about I am so glad I have a blanket to cuddle with that is exactly the same as the one keeping my baby girl warm right now.

Elisa Josephine

Elisa Josephine Vega was born sleeping this morning, Tuesday, January 20th at 11:05am. She was 9.7 oz and 9 inches long. She had Mark's nose and my lips, she was beautiful.

We spent the whole afternoon and evening holding her and letting her know how much we love her. We just got home from the hospital and are taking in the whole day.

One More Angel In Heaven

Today is the day we have been dreading for weeks. At the doctor's office today Baby Vega no longer had a heart beat. We felt her move a little bit yesterday, so we think she left us within the last 24 hours. We had a wonderful 28 weeks with her and we are so grateful for the time we had, but we are so so sad she is gone.

The next few days are going to be very hard. We are being admitted to the hospital tonight to be induced, but they don't know how long it will be until she is born

When Are You Due?

When are you due?

It should be a simple question, but what I have realized recently is it is anything but. 

It goes hand in hand with the other unknowingly complicated question, "is this your first?".  Both are questions I have asked nonchalantly to people before.  But now I know first hand the answers to these questions can be anything but simple. They are both questions that most people ask because they want to show they care, that they are interested.  So in no way do I ever blame anyone for asking, it just amazes me how those words now stop me in my tracks.

When are you due?

Four simple words leave my mind racing.  I am filled with so many emotions.  Happiness, and joy that someone is acknowledging my pregnancy, and the beautiful baby I am carrying.  Sadness and anger that I know she will likely not reach her due date, that we have been robbed of the blissful ignorance so many people have, and finally, fear and confusion on how I should answer.

Do I pretend everything is OK and just answer like anyone else would? Some days I do.  Either because I am just too exhausted to explain the situation, or sometimes I just want to enjoy the excitement. To somehow pretend just for a minute that everything is OK.  Sometimes those conversations leave me feeling better, like I have highlighted my baby girl and showed that I honor her life, and sometimes I am left feeling more alone in my situation.

Or there is the other option.  Do read the person, and tell them the true story? Burst their bubble with "she is due in April, but she isn't expected to make it to term".  Sometimes I do this, and I somehow feel bad for them, like they have unknowingly walked into what they saw as a field of roses, but is actually a field of landmines.  Or worse, I feel that by saying it out loud that I am giving up hope, that I don't believe in my baby girl. But most times I tell them anyway, I say "screw it!" I am done pretending for other peoples comfort, and if I want to tell the truth I tell the truth.

Throughout this journey, losing Luca, and then now with this high risk pregnancy, I have learned a couple of things.

First and foremost, is I need to do what I need to do for myself.  Protect my heart.  If that means pretending everything is OK in a conversation, I do it, if that means spilling my soul to a complete stranger, I do it. But I also have to gauge that other person, so I don't open myself up to hurtful words.

Second, is the majority of the time people don't really realize the actual situation.  Sometimes in sharing my story I end up connecting with someone who has been through a similar situation, and I am so glad we are able to open up together.  However, most other times, people just don't really get it.  They do their best to say something supportive. Sometimes it is, sometimes it isn't.  And yes, it might make them sad, or think about things differently, but in reality, the next day or a few days later, they are back to their normal life, and don't think much about my situation.  Again, I don't blame them, these are my baby girls and I think about them every movement of every day, those people have their own lives that they are thinking about.

So I don't need to worry about what other's think. Yes, I need to protect myself in who I tell, just to avoid hurtful comments, but if I feel like talking about it, I have the right to talk about it.  It is my life story, and my baby girl.

I read somewhere a great example of this from another baby loss mom.  She said, the story of her pregnancy with her son, and his birth, is the only story she has about him.  Other moms get years of stories to re-tell about their children.  Their first words, their first steps, their baseball games or the time they had a solo in the school concert.  My Journey in pregnancy with my babies may be the only time I have with them but I am a mother, and I am proud of my babies, and honored to be their mom. So, I will tell their stories.  For myself, to honor them, and to break the silence on pregnancy and infant loss.