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I remember what it was like to hate this time of year. From Halloween to New Years, I was angry and sad and tired. Facebook is rough for the “fertility-challenged.”
Now that I have Zoey, I am guilty of posting every single minute of her wonderfulness (if you are Facebook friends with me, you know this is no exaggeration). Part of this is because I have several friends and famly members who cannot, for the life of them, download a picture or video. If it’s not done for them, they are confused…there are phone calls that make me want to pull my hair out (“the screen has a funny icon on it…” sigh….) Facebook is an easy medium to share pics.
That being said, I’m sorry that this causes pain. I know what that is like. I’ve tried to be more sensitive to this and will do better.
I’m still a lostbabymama too…
That phrase could apply to about 10 times in my life…since I showered alone (without a little human chatting outside the curtain), since I had a hair cut (OMG, it’s long and scraggly), since I went on a date with Hubby (bad, bad parents), since I could friviliously blow money on something…anything…a new sweater…makeup…(finances are still not recovered)…well you get the point but mainly I wanted to say that it’s been a while since I posted…I’ve been working on Exhale Magazine. If you don’t know it, read here.
I wouldn’t trade this for anything. Not one thing. I didn’t sleep well last night because Zoey didn’t sleep well. I did get frustrated with her and have spent most of this morning beating myself up over it. Would I trade my life with her and Hubby for all the sleep in the world? Absolutely not.
Zoey’s 1st birthday is in 16 days. I can’t believe it. Oh My Dog, do I love that little tiny girl…
On a more personal note, my milk supply is decreasing. I noticed about a week ago that I wasn’t able to pump as much during the day. I’ve been worried that Zoey has not been satisfied with feedings and it seems prehaps I was right. When she woke up last night, she seemed really fussy but more like hungry fussy. It was definitely a hunger cry. Hubby gave her 3 ounces of formula and she was sound asleep. I guess I need to pump more and supplement. Could this be the end of the boob? Sigh. I love nursing her to sleep….
So I went to the new Guy-nee…unbeknownst to me, she recently left UNC Hospitals to move to this practice closer to her home. She asked about which practice I was with there. When I told her Maternal Fetal Medicine, she seemed shocked that I would need the high risk group. Then the nurse did a history. Of course she asked all of the questions that I dreaded and of course, I didn’t fit into any of the usual boxes. I tried to keep it light. Finally, she said, “I don’t know how to put that information into the computer so I will ask the doctor and come back.”
Yeah, well, I’m still trying to figure out how to put that information in my head so when you figure it out…let me know. Words like “stillbirth,” “miscarriage,” “I’m sorry, I’m not finding a heartbeat…” they don’t compute easily, even after nearly 4 years.
Other than that, it went fine. The doctor asked if I was on birth control…I laughed for a good minute or so and said, “no…” She said, “oh, you figure if it happens, it happens?”
Ah, no. I figure if it happens AND sticks it will be a Christmas/Hannukah/New Years/Valentine’s Day/etc. miracle (seeing as how we finally have a living child, we only seem to “do it” on holidays….)
I think my 3 children are enough….
I got my first Halloween with my baby girl. I remember thinking about this day after the boys died and how much I wanted to see my child dressed up for Halloween. We didn’t take her out because it was wet and cold but she was dressed up all day for school and she loved seeing the kids dressed up when they came to the door. She’s 10 months old. I can’t believe it. She’s 10 months old.
It seems like I just had her. I waited so long for her and the time is just moving so quickly – too quickly. I want time to stop so I can just look at her. I try not to look forward or backward but try to live in the moment now. Previously, when I would look at her, a tiny voice would creep in and ask, “is that what the boys would have looked like at 6, 9, 10 months…” I try not to get caught up in the day-to-day grind. It’s so easy to come home and deal with the “have-tos…” You know what, the schmidt will get done when it gets done. I just try and live for today. Oherwise, I get so incredibly sad to think about her brothers who aren’t here. I’m still struck by how painful the loss pulls at me 3 years later. In contrast, I’m so happy, grateful, blessed, ecstatic to be Zoey’s Mommy.
Here’s my little giraffe:
We’ve been battling illness in our house…poor Zoey was sick with the yuck for a couple of days and now it’s developed into her first full blown ear infection. Awesome.
I knew something was wrong on Sunday night when she would wake up screaming. Not crying. Screaming. In pain. It was awful and I was terrified. No amount of cuddling, nursing, rocking, singing, holding or soothing would help. This is not normal for my little girl.
What if she has an intestinal blockage? What if it’s pneumonia? What if it’s cancer? What if? What if? Immediately my mind went to The Fear.
What if she dies?
Yup. I know it’s an ear infection and I know no one dies from an ear infection but at 3 am on Monday morning, I didn’t know that it was an ear infection. I was ten seconds from packed her up and taking her to the ER. I was deep in the throes of The Fear. I took a deep breath, she settled down and fell asleep on my chest in the rocker.
I sat there and watched her breathe until my alarm went off at 6am.
That’s the lost baby mama fear people.
Last night I did something I swore I would never do….I got frustrated with Zoey. She’s been sick with a cold (or she’s teething) and the combination of trying to crawl/cruise/walk has made my normal sleep-through-the-night baby wake up at 2:30 and 4 every morning for the last 3 nights. Last night, she refused to go to sleep at her normal bedtime of 8pm. Finally, at 9pm, after nursing her, reading to her, rocking her, singing to her, and then lather, rinse, repeat! I snatched her up, cradled her in my arms and snapped, “GO. TO. SLEEP” and proceeded to to the bounce and walk from many months earlier…finally she settled down to go to sleep only to pop back up at 2:30, wide awake and ready to play…sigh…
I was so upset with myself that I snapped at her…I cherish every second I have with her because 3 days a week she’s with daycare and 2 days a week she’s with Hubby…I get her after work and on the weekends and I hate to think that time is spent growling at her because she’s tired…she can’t help it, she’s a baby!
And she’s my only living child. I know my experience as a baby lost mama makes me have a heightened sense of consciousness when it comes to spending time with her and trying to do right by her…I feel like I have more than my fair share of “the feeling guilties…” I remember before Zoey was born but after the boys died, I would watch people with their kids. I would see some dad scream at his child and think, “do you not understand how lucky you are? Why would you scream at that child? He’s alive and living and you are so fucking lucky you don’t even know!!!” I think I even wrote about it on Surviving Baby…
I know, I know, get over it…it won’t be the last time I snap but by dog, I hated myself more when I dropped her at school this morning…
I need a glass of wine…
A Watched Belly Never Grows 