Weekend in Pictures...

We spent some time outside.
The weather is finally nice.
Dave cleaned up some stuff in the yard, watered the grass, fixed a door.  It had blown off of our house and was laying in the yard (right next to the car up on blocks and the couch on the porch). And you thought Kansas was just windy in The Wizard of Oz? 
I sat on the patio and talked on the phone. Talking on the phone has not been my most favorite thing to do lately.  Once I'm on the phone I'm fine.  I just feel like I have to pump myself up for conversation.

We visited Maggie's grave after church.
The trees around it were started to bud. I'd like to think that her magic had started to fill that pasture with life.  Just like she had done to me--made it all nice and bright and happy and full of hope and new life.
But, her actual grave was heartbreaking.  I should have brought more flowers to make it look nicer.  All the flowers from last week were dead and nasty looking. 
I talked to her; I asked her what she had been doing. I told her how much we missed her and how I hope she was doing okay and wasn't too lonely.  Is that weird and crazy?  I even said it aloud just in case she could still hear me and so she wouldn't forget the sound of my voice.

I checked the mail, several times, hoping for Maggie's hospital pictures.  Instead, I got bills- bills from doctor's appointments from the last few months, 2 bills from our hospital stay, and another bill for my epidural.
Sigh and ugh.
Dave said that the bills wouldn't be so horrible if we had a living daughter to come home to.  I wouldn't mind paying $170 for 3 IV bags of sugar water if I could come home and cuddle with her.
The hospital should give discounts for this, don't you think?
You get a 25% (or more) discount from the Maternity Ward if you go home empty-handed.
You get another 25% off if you go home broken-hearted.
We are both empty-handed and broken hearted.
We could have maybe saved 50% off these crazy bills.

Please do not try to add up these numbers.  I am going to have my paycheck direct deposited to the hospital.

Dave and Kitty took naps.
I watched videos of Bill Nye on the internet (science state assessments in a week).

How does he know that I change the channel even when he's sleeping? Also, in real life his bicep is not larger than his head. He would probably tell you otherwise.  But, he is a Harder.  They are famous for their large noggins.

And yes, we know she's fatty.  She's also worthless.  And a big jerk. I have scars to prove it.

 That's our weekend, along with some paint shopping, prescription-filling, grocery shopping fun.

Oh, I used the google to look up "27 weeks pregnant."
That's what I would have been tomorrow. 
I should not have done that.  

According to the internet  if I could have gotten her to this point, she would have an 85% chance of surviving with medical help.
Remind me not to google things like this anymore.

Q & A

Some answers to questions that I have been asked frequently lately:

Are you feeling okay physically?
I have felt really good for the last couple of weeks.  The delivery wasn't difficult because Maggie was so small. So, my recovery was relatively quick.  My biggest struggle is that I am dealing with the same physical changes that happen when any woman delivers a child.  I sometimes don't know if the sadness I feel is grief or postpartum.

My biggest challenge right now is sleeping.  My doctor prescribed me some sleeping pills, which I have been taking pretty religiously since I was in the hospital.  The other night I tried to fall asleep without taking one but it was a miserable night. I woke up with the sweats and had horrible dreams about unborn babies.  I will spare you the details but I decided I was going to try 1/2 pill for awhile before I stop cold turkey. 

Did you get Maggie's autopsy results back? Do you know what happened?
Her general autopsy results came back about a week after her delivery.  The general tests (if she had any viruses, infections, etc.) came back negative, which is good news.  We are still waiting for the genetic test results to come back.

Dr. Eck was not exactly sure why Maggie had died.  Because of her small size and low weight, it was obvious that she hadn't been growing for awhile before she died. The only area that looked somewhat abnormal was the placenta (sorry if this is gross for some of you).  Some of the tissues did not look healthy and she thinks that the placenta could have separated from the uterus so that Maggie wasn't getting oxygen.  There is really no way of knowing this is happening and no way to really stop it.  So I know, cognitively, that I couldn't have done anything differently.  However, in my heart, I still wonder if there was something I could have done differently.  My mind sometimes goes crazy if I think about it too much...
I shouldn't have had that Coke that one time...
I shouldn't have tried to get that box down off my classroom shelf...
I should have drank more water....
I know that there was nothing I could have done to change things.  However, I can't help but stop wondering.


How is work going? 
The first day back at work was hard.  When the kids arrived they didn't know what to say or do (much like adults don't know what to say or do).  Many of them would not even look at me at first and, instead, just looked down at my belly (I didn't disappoint- I kept my muffin top there for them to look at.).  P.S.- One girl even poked it. That's right.  I was her Pillsbury Dough Boy for a split-second. She's lucky she still has all of her fingers.

Thankfully, my sister had her spring break so she spent the day with me at school grading papers and trying to help lessen the load of kids' questions and she also helped me talk with the kids about Maggie.

Like I said earlier, I am not going to be winning any awards for "Most Effective Teacher" (apologies to parents of students or my administrators) but we are hanging in there.  I have talked to my class about Maggie and what happened and they know that I will be sad for awhile.  They know that I think it is important for them to ask me questions and talk about things.  They have asked a few questions, but not a lot.  I'm sure it's nearly impossible to get your 10-year-old brain wrapped around the idea of death, especially the death of a baby.  I mean, we as adults have a hard enough time with it.

But, my coworkers have been super-super supportive and have been very patient as I try to get back to normal, whatever that may be. I couldn't ask for better people to work with. I have gotten gifts, gift cards, and meals.  But, I think more than any of those, their prayers, kind words, hugs, and shared tears have helped me more than anything.  So thank you to my HES peeps.

Are you going to have more kids?
This is a difficult question.  I wish I could say, "Yes, we are going to have kids as soon as possible."  I wish I could say for sure that we will. I pray and hope that we will have more kids.  However, many of you know that this pregnancy did not just come the moment we hoped to have children.  It took us several years to conceive, even with the help of specialists.  So...

Yes, I hope we can have more children.  I would love to go through the whole pregnancy/birthing experience the way it should be.  I want to have a happy ending.  We will try again at some point when we get the okay from our doctors.  And, if necessary, we will use specialists to help us (as much as I completely dread that right now).

This has been one of my biggest struggles with this entire situation.  Maggie's death seemed completely unfair. It didn't seem right that my daughter died.  However, it didn't seem right especially because Maggie was so, so wanted and prayed for. She wasn't a "We'll see what happens" baby.  She was completely planned.  She had been an answer to several years of doctor visits, inconvenient trips to Wichita, lots of doctor's bills, pills, and shots at midnight.  She made all of those inconveniences worth it.  Life finally seemed fair and right when she came along.  And then, life seemed completely, completely unfair. It has felt like we can't catch a break- How can others can just think about having kids and they are pregnant while we have to rearrange our lives and budgets every month just to have another  let down?

So,
I worry that this was my one and only chance.
I worry about having to go through all of this again just for another heartbreak.
I worry that the doctors won't be able to help us.
I worry that even if they can I will have to grieve the loss of another child.
I worry that there could be 2 graves out in that pasture instead of just one.
But, I worry even more that I will never see those 2 pink lines again.

Better than a double chin...

A past coworker brought me a gift after school yesterday. So beautiful and so thoughtful.  She thought I needed something with her name on it.  I agree.

Finally, a successful self-portrait after 4 attempts.  The previous 3 attempts got better pictures of my giant double chin than of the cute necklace.

Betrothed

Meet Cooper.

Warning: Do not stare directly at the picture.  The cuteness of the baby and the bling of the ginormous diamond may burn your retinas.  And melt your heart.  And make you miss your baby.  And make you want a new diamond. My birthday is in May.

Cooper was born on April 5.  He weighed 9 pounds 2 ounces. Nine pounds of solid adorable-ness.  He was supposed to fall in love with Maggie in a few years.  I was never concerned about him not being able to love her. It's easy to love Maggie.  I've done it everyday since October.  Actually, even before October. 

I went and visited him today in the hospital.  I'll admit it, I was a bit scared.  I did not know how I would react and what it would be like to see him and hold him.  But, in the scheme of things, I knew that I wanted to see him.  Under any other circumstances I would have visited him.  And, at some point, I decided, I was going to have to see babies and hold them.  So, I decided that if I was going to hold a baby and cry, I would want to do it with Cooper.  I've cried in front of Cooper's mom quite a few times.  If I was going to cry in front of anyone while holding their child, I knew that Cooper's parents would be understanding and patient and supportive. They wouldn't think I was a crazy-hormone-grief-stricken-baby-snatching-woman. In fact, I knew that his mommy would cry with me.  You see, I know Cooper's mom's heart is filled with joy and happiness and love and peace and thankfulness. But, I also know that she feels sorrow and sadness about Maggie and the loss that Dave and I have experienced.

So, I went.  I got to meet Cooper and hug his beautiful mama.  And, Cooper was perfect. I think he must have known that he was meeting his what-could-have-been-his-future-mother-in-law because he was so well-mannered. Plus,  he was chubby, had cute little fingers, and made cute little squeaky sounds.  And, when I left, I smelled like baby.  Even as I am typing this, I get little whiffs of good-smelling baby.

That's what I wanted from visiting him.  I wanted to see chubby cheeks and curled-up legs and hear little squeaks.  I wanted to be reassured that this miracle, this unbelievably perfect baby can happen, and hopefully will happen.  It is possible to have a perfect child of God laying on your lap.   Alive.  And breathing.  And squeaking. And stretching.   It doesn't always happen the way it happened to Dave and me.  It isn't always sorrow and fear and questions. This is the way it is supposed to be. Visiting Cooper gave me some hope.

Don't get me wrong- seeing Cooper didn't help me "get over" Maggie.  It didn't help me forget her or whatever I'm supposed to do with time.  It probably made me miss her even more.  And remember every inch of her.  And be reminded that I will never hear her squeaks or touch her soft earlobes or see her prune-like little toes.  I definitely keep asking God why this happened to us and why we couldn't be as lucky. But, seeing Cooper did help me be reminded of why I started this adventure in the first place and that I can get through this if it means that, in the end, it means having a Cooper of my own.    

By the way, it probably would have never worked out between Cooper and Mag-dawg anyways.  They would have looked ridiculous together, I mean with his 9 pounds of solid boy and her dainty little, petite figure.  But, I would we could have at least tried it out and given them a shot.  The option would have been nice.

Lurking on Other Blogs

I found this on a blog I was reading tonight.

Go to http://liferearranged.com/blog for some amazing posts.  This is way cheaper than therapy.

She says exactly what I am thinking.  If you wonder how I could ever miss someone who I never "met," someone who was never "born," maybe this will help.  I had a place for Maggie in my life even before she had a heartbeat.

the grief and mourning i am feeling is so deep.
i am shocked by my inability to hold it together.
i am surprised by how truly difficult this is.
i want nothing more than to stay in bed all day....
the ugly cry has made several appearances.
accompanied by silent tears throughout the day.
and night.
because the truth is that once you see that second pink line…
you set a place at the table for your baby.
vacations and trips are planned and unplanned.
bedroom assignments are discussed.
visions of laughing, playing and fighting.
no matter how small and how new, that baby has a place deeply entrenched in your family.
and i miss my baby.
deeply.

things that made me feel good (and bad) today

The good: 

• I got an email back from an etsy lady I contacted yesterday.  I've been looking into getting a ring with the march birthstone for Maggie.  The two rings on the top and bottom would symbolize Dave and I.  This is the ring. What do you think?
   

• Anyways, I had emailed the lady and told her my situation and asked her a few questions.  She wrote back and said she wasn't sure how to respond, as she had lost her son a year ago, two days before his due date.  Now, don't get me wrong, that didn't make me happy.  However, it is so strange how God works.  And, it did make me smile knowing that God has my back.  It was like a little sign that I wasn't alone in all of this (I am secretly hoping she and I start a penpal-type relationship and I can go visit her in Whidbey Island--don't feel bad if you have to Google where that is--I did).
• A coworker gave me a beautiful necklace today. So meaningful and beautiful. It is a heart that opens and inside she printed out a picture of Maggie's footprint and put it in there.  I tried to find a picture of it, but alas, no luck.  Come visit and you can see it in person.  Then you can see Mag's real footprint.  Have I told you it's adorable?
• My mom bought Dave a bag of "Kettle Cooked Salt and Vinegar Chips."  I know they were meant for Dave, but it was a long drive home.  And those chips are my fave.  That brand has so many of the folded chips, which are definitely the best ones.
• I was reading the blog that a friend of mine recommended.  Long story short, that blog took me to the site of another lady who, every Monday, is having a woman write about her experiences with miscarriage and/or infant loss.  So great to hear other experiences, even if I wish this on no family.  Ever.
• I didn't blow away.  Seriously, Kansas.
• I only cried 3 times today. Or 4. Or 5 times.  I can't remember.  But, it at least wasn't the ugly-and-you-can't-catch-your-breath-and-you-can't-breathe kind of cry.  And, it wasn't in front of my students this time, either. 
• Coca-Cola

The bad:

• I drove by the road where I could turn to go visit Maggie.  I hate thinking about her out there, all alone.  I hate that I'm not out there with her, taking care of her like a mother should.  I hate that I left her out there. I hate that she's out there by herself.  I hate that she's dead.
• My goal was to make it through the day without crying.  I actually put mascara on.  Unfortunately, I think it was smeared off by 8:15 am.  
• I struggle to pray anymore.  Do you ever get so exhausted that you can't think anymore?  Yeah, well, I'm waiting for that feeling to go away.  When I try to pray, I forget what I'm saying.  I don't know what to say. I'm a big jumbled mess.  The only thing that I can think to ask Him is, "When are you going to bring Maggie back to me?"  It sometimes seems pointless to pray when the thing I want the most, I know will not be given to me.  So, keep your prayers coming.  Lord knows I need them. 

What now?

I feel a bit lost.  Yes, for the obvious reasons.  But for other reasons too.

This writing has been a release for me, a place to share about my precious Maggie.  Now she is buried and I have been feeling, at times,  as though I now have nothing else to share about her. She's done. She's gone.

Now I know, as her mother, that I could always find things to share about her - the absolute and unending joy that I had when I found out I was pregnant; the control it took me not to talk about our baby from the second I knew she existed (and probably even before I was for sure she existed); how my heart melted every time I felt her twitch inside of me; how I envisioned her working with Dave- chasing cattle and toddling around in the pasture (yes, this city girl envisioned this for her kids-at this point, you can shake your head in disbelief--again).  She would have looked so cute in these:

As her mother, I could write and read posts like that over and over again and never get enough.  However, I'm not sure how much others are interested.  How many posts do I write about what could have been?

So, my struggle is: what do I post about now?  I have no more pictures and no more stories.  I wish I had pictures of her swaddled in a hospital blanket or her first bath or her fat rolls or her eyes that look like her dad's.  I wish I could write about her first giggle and have a video link below.

I have none of that.  I have no more memories to share.  And, that is the hardest.  I wish I had 5 minutes to hold her while she was alive.  That way, I would have more to write about.  I would have something else to share with you. 

Instead, all I have is my dreams of what she could have been.  What I would have been with her.  What our family would have been.  I wish I had more than that right now.