Dear Baby Bear- week 27

Dear Baby Bear,

This week has been an emotional one. It started out pretty good! I reread some of my old journal entries and blog posts from the months after your sister died. It's so incredible to see how far I've come in the almost fourteen months since her death. I have made so much progress, even though somedays I still have my moments (I'll always have those moments, I realize). I look back on those entries, and it's like I can feel the pain again- but it's not the same pain, it doesn't feel like my own anymore. It's just a memory of the pain. I was reading, and all I could think was "wow." I'm pretty proud of myself for how far I've come. And of course, I'm not doing this description any justice, I'm probably just really confusing you. Gosh darn me and my way with words! I really wish I were more eloquent.
So, that was the beginning of the week. Then about midweek I had a freak out. Other than your SUA, everything seems to be going perfectly fine. And that scares me! I had a perfectly normal pregnancy with Lilly, and look how that turned out! Based on my experience, normal pregnancy=death.
This whole past week (more like weeks) I have been finding it incredibly hard to connect with you. I can't imagine that there is a two pound baby rolling and kicking inside of me. I realize that there is, I just can't "see" it in my mind. My brain wants me to believe that it's just some sort of weird internal stomach twitching, that this is all just a dream, like I just ate something weird and my body is reacting a weird way. I can't imagine your surviving... I keep having dead baby dreams- dreams in which I am told you no longer have a heartbeat and I have to deliver your lifeless body. I've been having them almost every night. My subconscious self already has your headstone picked out and your funeral planned. To make this all worse, I'm now afraid that because I keep dreaming and believing that you're going to die, that you are actually going to. There's a word that I'm looking for, but I can't seem to remember what it is... When you believe in something so hard that it actually happens? Yeah, well, apparently it's a real thing.
And then, just this weekend, jealousy, anger, and self pity have all reared their ugly heads back into my life. Why make their appearance now?
Four brand new babies... Two on Friday, one on Saturday, and one on Sunday (two of which were firstborns, the other two were second).
I am so incredibly happy for these mothers- I really truly am. Yes, I am jealous of their seemingly perfect deliveries and babies. Seeing their flawless little children with eyes wide open breaks my heart, but it only breaks because I never had that chance with Lilly-bug. I am so incredibly grateful that they do not have to face the same pain that I have. And it is not them that I am angry with. I am angry because I don't understand why. Why did it have to be my child who passed away? Why am I the one who has been assigned this burden? For one of these mamas, I have no feelings but happiness for. Her first was stillborn just a month after Lilly, and my heart truly rejoices for her and her husband on the safe arrival of their second child. Two mothers I have mixed feelings for- I don't know too much of their personal histories, but my self pity tries it's hardest to reach in and steal the joy I have for them. And then the last one? I don't understand. It's one of those families that you would never wish a child to be knowingly brought into- and that's what makes me saddest. That's when the "why me"s pop in their hardest. Maybe when you're older, I'll explain it to you more in person. Maybe I'll just hand you my personal journal and let you read the entries for this past weekend...

27 weeks!

What's new this week? Well, I've taken off my wedding rings- they were a tight fit on Thursday morning, so I figured it was time to take them off before they got stuck on during my afternoon swelling. Also! You have learned that my cervix is incredibly entertaining to hit. Don't ask me why, because I don't know, but you enjoy it. And it's VERY uncomfortable! Pregnancy still sucks, I am still incredibly grateful for the opportunity to carry your life (even if I have trouble imagining you), and I am still incredibly in love with you and the idea of bringing you home. Oh! And we're officially in the third trimester! Which means only eleven more weeks!

Dear Baby Bear- week 26

Dear Baby Bear,

We are now entering week 26! Once again, an uneventful week. How boring! I want to start our weekly appointments already. With Lilly I started them at 28 weeks, but this doc wants to start them at 32. We shall see what happens! Since I don't have much to say, I figured I'd fill in one of those obnoxious-yet-satisfying pregnancy blog update post things.... So! Here we go-

How far along are you? 26 weeks! 12 more to go

How I’m feeling: I'm feeling pretty good! I still have incredible heartburn and I've started having some pain in the joints where the sacrum and iliac connect, but other then that I'm fine.

Total weight gain: No idea. I don't like to focus on my weight- it's not good for my OCD personality. I'm definitely getting bigger, that's for sure!

How big is baby? Assuming that you're a normal size, you're almost two pounds and just over 14 inches long. It's incredible to think that you're this large already! Most of the time, I'm still imagining you as apple sized. I've been googling pictures of 26 weeks gestation premie babies, and it's crazy to think that you're so big, and yet still so small!

Maternity clothes: Wait, I'm supposed to be wearing clothes??? Hahaha! Most of the time, I just walk around the house in one of your dads shirts and some underwear! When I do have to get dressed, I do wear my maternity pants and a maternity shirt (or one of your dads shirts again). I can still squeeze into my medium sized t-shirts still, but they're starting to recede a little too far on my belly now.

Sleep: I’m pretty lucky for a pregnant lady- I sleep through the night! I go to bed around 9 or ten, and then wake up to go to the bathroom once around 6, snooze till 7, and then I'm up for the day. Occasionally I'll take a nap during the afternoon, but only on super lazy days. I'm still kind of sleeping on my tummy, and laying on my back has become impossible.

Movement: I've been getting some pretty awesome kicks out of you lately! I tried uploading a video of my tummy moving and you going crazy, but it wouldn't work. Your father can just lean against my belly now and feel you moving around.

Food Cravings: Mimi's rolls, Chex mix, soda- oh my gosh, the soda! I'm constantly craving a Coke or a Dr Pepper. I'm a good pregnant mommy though, and I only drink one maybe once a week. Your father and I try not to keep soda in the house, because we end up drinking it way too fast.

Food aversions: Still, with the chicken.

Belly button in or out: Its in, but it's definitely getting flatter

What I Miss: Ease of movement! Getting off the couch is becoming quite difficult. As is getting in/out of the car.

What I’m looking forward to: My next doctors appointment. Hopefully I'll be able to scheduled our next ultrasound then.

Milestone: Uh. I don't know. You're still alive and kicking? Does that count as a milestone?

OH MY GOSH I ALMOST FORGOT! You scared the CRAP out of me the other day! I wake up at seven, like I normally do on the weekdays and I shower and eat breakfast, and I notice that during the almost two hours I had been up and awake, Eva hadn't left my side. She was always trying to touch me, to lean up against me, and was just super clingy. She isn't always like that, only when she's sick and she wasn't sick this time. And that, my dear Baby Bear, is when I realize I didn't wake up to you kicking me, and I hadn't felt you since being awake. Talk about freak out moment! So I grab the Doppler and start searching for your little heartbeat. It took me a few minutes, but I finally found you- thankfully! At this point, I'm calming down because your heart is still beating at 144 beats per minute, but I'm still worried because you're not wiggling around like you normally do. I had a pretty sugary breakfast, so the only thing left to do before driving to the doctors office was to drink cold water (or juice, but I didn't have any juice) and lay down. You're supposed to wait thirty minutes to an hour after doing everything you can to get baby moving before going in. IT TOOK YOU TWENTY FREAKING MINUETS YOU LITTLE STINKER!!!!! Gosh! Were you trying to give me a heart attack? Cuz if you do, we'll both be dead! I don't think your father would be too fond of the idea of a dead wife and two dead children. Everything has been fine since that one freak out moment, and it's like you know you worried me because you've been moving around more than before since that day. I'm hoping and praying that this is just you reassuring me, and not some warning sign of cord compression (excessive movement and reduced movement are both signs of cord compression. Oh, and excessive hiccuping).

Look at all the puppy cuddles you've been getting!

Dear Baby Bear- week 25

Dear Baby Bear,

24 week comparison with your sister! I feel as if I was the same weight, my belly would be about the same size

I know, I know. I skipped another week. There just wasn't anything to say! There isn't a whole lot for this week, either. I had my 24 week appointment this past Wednesday. Totally boring and uneventful. My doctor didn't know about your SUA yet, though, so I guess that could count as exciting. Apparently, UAMS (the place I went to for the level 2 ultrasound) sent over a report stating that everything was perfectly fine and there weren't any abnormalities. That is definitely NOT what they told me. So my doctor is supposed to be getting ahold of them and figuring everything out. I did my glucose testing and haven't heard anything back about that, so I'm guessing I passed- no news is good news!
I also "toured" the hospital in which I will be delivering you in. Turns out, I picked one of the most baby friendly hospitals ever, and I love that! They're crazy pro breastfeeding, kangaroo care, rooming in, etc. They don't even supply pacifiers- parents are encouraged NOT to use them (which I totally understand, but you're going to be a binky baby). They also really encourage birth plans, which I think is super stupid. I've never liked the idea of birth plans, and the lady showing me around was incredibly insistent that I have one. My birth plan? Get you out safely with as little physical harm to me as possible. I'll probably eventually write something up... I've already started on some rules regarding visitors for when you finally arrive. I know that sounds kind of silly, but you'd be surprised at how many ignorant people there are out there! That, and I'm super paranoid about you getting sick- one of your aunts was hospitalized with RSV when she was a baby, and your Great Aunt T (who Lilly is buried next too) passed away from RSV as well. I've already had one baby die, I don't want you to die too. I promise that someday I'll be less of a helicopter parent. But for now, and probably the first few years of your life, I will be there every step of the way ensuring your safety. I'll let you eat dirt when you're a bit older, and I won't care too much if Eva licks your face and eats Cheerios right out of your mouth. Heck, I might even start letting you play with knives and matches (in a safe controlled environment) when you're four! But there will be rules and you will be taught how to be safe, because I won't always be there to protect you. That makes me sad to vocalize (or, visualize, since I'm typing this). I will try my darn hardest to be there, though! For as long as I can.
As I'm writing this, you are happily (well, I'm assuming you're happy) rolling around in my stomach. I've felt a few punches today that were aimed at the placenta, hopefully this just means you're getting stronger. I am loving every single movement that you make, and I am enjoying every uncomfortable moment of this pregnancy with you. 

Have I talked about how you're already getting up into my ribs? You have been, for at least two weeks now. Oh, and the heartburn? Absolute hell. But I love it, and I love you.

25 weeks! Happy Easter!

Dear Baby Bear- week 23

Dear Baby Bear,

I love waking up to your movements, it's very reassuring! You're still hitting the placenta most of the time, but I can occasionally feel your little taps. I also feel like you're already trying to go up into my ribs! It should be too early for that!
You're 23 weeks today, and that means you have a very small chance of surviving outside of my womb with intensive medical help. The age of viability is 24 weeks, but some hospitals will try to save a baby at 23 weeks. Of course you would have several disabilities (mental and physical) but you'd be here, and hopefully alive. But I don't want you to come out just yet- you keep cooking till at least June 25.
I don't have an appointment for another week and a half, so you're gonna have to wait to hear about your size or how you're doing or anything like that. I'm going to try and see if they'll give me an ultrasound- just for reassurance that you're doing okay. I'll also hopefully be discussing more in depth about your condition and the results of your anatomy scan. I never got a call about coming in and talking with my OB, so no news is good news, right?
Baby Bear, there are now nine different friends who have publicly announced their pregnancies on Facebook- they're all due within a month of you. This worries me. Before, when I was expecting your sister, there were only four other women due around her due date- so five of us in total. Well, you know what? 1 in every 4 pregnancies ends in a miscarriage or stillbirth. Last time, I was the statistic. I was the mother who's pregnancy ended in a fatality, the 1 in 160 who's birth ended in a stillbirth. And now there are ten of us waiting for little babies? That's really pushing it! Statistically, at least one person is going to lose their baby. And it scares me, because I don't want to be that one again. And I don't want anyone else to feel the pain of child loss- it really, REALLY, sucks! I'm scared, Baby Bear. I just want everyone to be happy and healthy.

23 Weeks and wearing papa bear's shirts! 

 

Dear Baby Bear- week 22

Dear Baby Bear,

I'm a bit of a bad mom- sorry! I didn't write last weeks letter. There wasn't anything new to say. There still isn't, really. I've been sick all week, hopefully it doesn't hurt you. I'm currently sitting in a doctors office waiting for my flu/strep test results to get back so we can see how to get me feeling better. (They're back, I don't have flu or strep, I just feel terrible. Oh, and one of the only medications they can give me I happen to be allergic to- yay!)
You're still moving around :) and I love every moment of it! You're getting stronger and I've been able to feel you almost every day now. You're father has even felt you once. You were kicking around your placenta, and he got lucky and felt it.
I've stopped researching all the things that can go wrong with an SUA. I'm only looking into preterm labor and premie baby info now. The second to worst thing that I'm expecting to happen is that you'll be a tiny NICU baby. I can handle a tiny NICU baby. You'll be cute if you're tiny! Hopefully you'll be a healthy size, though.
I have started thinking though- I'm kind of sad that I'll never have a "normal" delivery. I'll never be able to experience labor naturally (unless it's preterm and unplanned!). I've always imagined myself like you see it in the movies- the mothers water breaks, and she yells for her husband to grab the bags and the car, saying that "it's time" and "the baby is coming." They're always super sweet moments. And I KNOW real labor isn't anything like that, but I've always wanted to experience that. And I can't. Not safely at least. We will forever and always induce early because of your sisters death. I won't know what a natural labor feels like, because I'll always have a drug induced one (they're supposed to be more intense and painful). And your delivery could very likely be a c-section. With your cord being all funky and me not liking low heart rates, I may demand a cesarean at the first sign of your distress. It's kind of disappointing- not being able to be "normal," always being the odd man out.
I've also been thinking about how I don't fit in with normal moms. I think that I've know since the beginning that I wouldn't fit in with normal moms, though. While pregnant with Lilly, I remember going over to a friends house. There were two mothers there, each with a child under the age of two, and I was the odd one out. I didn't feel comfortable with them, I didn't feel like I could chime in on the conversation since they were talking about their toddling babies. They talked about breastfeeding and baby wearing and what foods their children were eating. I couldn't contribute to the conversation because I had yet to experience those things. I was excited to, and I eagerly listened in to their comments, but I felt like the third wheel.
Just this week, I had a good friend invite me to this huge public prego lady baby shower thing that would be held by the hospital- there'd be raffle tickets, toddler fashion shows, seminars- it really sounds like fun! But then I started thinking- oh yeah, I would be surrounded by hundreds of happily pregnant or newly delivered mothers. All happily ignorant of the things that could go wrong. I would feel compelled to share Lilly's story, to let others know that I had a daughter, as well as a son on the way. But that's depressing, and no one ever knows what to say and they just end the conversation and walk away as fast as they can. *Sigh* Sometimes I really wish I could be normal...

 My 22 week baby belly right after a shower! I went back to bed after taking this- being sick while pregnant is hard work!

Dear Baby Bear- week 20

Dear Baby Bear,

So, this week, I have good news and not so great news. You'd think that since we've already had one baby die, that we would be blessed with a picture perfect pregnancy, but I guess that's just not the case.

Your father ended up being able to take the day off, so he did! And that was awesome! I had your 20 week appointment with my OB today- I still hadn't gotten a call about my ultrasound, so I just went to the appointment. I get there, and they ask when it is and I tell them that I still haven't scheduled it! So five minutes after I tell the nurse this, she comes in and tells me that it's at 2:30 later that afternoon- thank goodness I had that appointment at Parkhill (the office), or else I wouldn't have known!

Baby belly at 20 weeks!

The appointment went fine and your father took me out to lunch- we went to Kosmos! I love Kosmos- it's soooooo good. 

Lunch! I forgot to take a picture before I ate it all

We then took the dogs to the dog park to waste some time before your ultrasound. While there, I get a call from a nurse from the MFM office stating that they're running AHEAD of schedule! No one ever runs ahead of schedule! This meant that we could get in earlier than 2:30! 

At the dog park!

Thank goodness your dad had the day off, because this is when we received our "not so great" news. I get up on the table and the doctor puts tons of jelly on my belly (ha! I made that rhyme). He says that if he notices anything wrong, he'll let me know. Of course, my doctor doctor has the final say in diagnoses and what not, but he would give me a heads up. And then he was silent the entire time. I didn't know if I should take that as a good sign or not. The ultrasound ended up being about 45 minutes long, and at the end he says that everything looked just fine. He spent tons of time looking at your heart and somewhere in your abdomen (I'm assuming it was your kidneys he was looking at). I talked with the nurse practitioner who was viewing our ultrasound via telecom, and she said that you were a bit on the small side (greater than the 10th percentile, but less than the 30th) but everything looked fine. Your father and I then left to the waiting area to complete some paperwork when the genetics counselor called us back into the ultrasound room. Apparently, (and this is the not so great news) you have a two vessel cord- a single umbilical artery. Normally, an umbilical cord has three vessels- a single vein, and two arteries. But you only have one- you're already special! We're told that this could, and most likely is, the reason for your small size. We were also told that your heart and kidneys look perfectly fine, and that they weren't able to see any other signs of abnormalities. We will have an additional ultrasound sometime within the next ten weeks to check on your growth again and to double check for anything missed in this ultrasound.

From the small amount of research that I have done so far, I think you're going to be okay. SUA can be a sign of some pretty serious stuff. They didn't find anything else wrong, so there's a very small chance of you having any issues. Right now, I'm only allowing myself to worry about you having a low birthweight and/or being born preterm. If the doctors find more markers, then I will allow myself to worry more, but for now I'm only going to focus on what we know.

Happy Birthday Lilly-bug

A year ago today.
An entire year. Oh my goodness. It's gone by so incredibly fast, and yet so unbelievably slow.
A year ago today, I delivered a perfect little girl into this world. A little girl who would never take a breath outside of my womb. I carried her for 39 weeks and 5 days. Full term. And yet, she didn't survive. You think that once you get past the viability mark, you're baby will survive no matter what- at least, that's what we thought.

It's incredible how much I have changed in this past year. I am an entirely different person now because of my daughter. Before, I was happy, carefree, daring, invincible. Now, I know that I can be brought down and nearly destroyed. I now know what true happiness is, and I know the feeling of true heart break. I know that there will always be a reason to worry, that nothing is a given- that anything and everything can be taken from you in the blink of an eye. Nothing, and no one, is safe.

I used to be naive. Sometimes I wish I could have that back. But then I remember if I had that naivety back, I wouldn't have Lilly. And I don't want that. Despite the pain and hell I have gone through since her passing, I would never wish her away. I would relive this entire year if only I could hold her again. That's crazy, right? Wanting to deliver a dead baby again, recovering from that delivery, undergoing surgery to fix what went wrong on my end during delivery, the depression, the PTSD, the slight addiction to pain killers which I developed, the weekly therapy sessions, the months of infertility, the side effects from the infertility medications, the insensitive comments, the crying... So much ugly crying- the kind where you can't control yourself and every hole in your face leaks. But I would do it again. I would. Just to hold her. To see her face again. Just to feel her weight in my arms. To hold her hand, to look at her tiny toes, to search her face for likeness to my own.

You know what sucks the most? We wanted her. We wanted her from the beginning- before the beginning. Do you have any idea of all the testing and needles I endured just to get pregnant with her? The worry that something might have gone wrong because of a medication I took before we knew I had conceived? There are parents who have "whoops" babies all the freaking time. Drug addicts who become pregnant, mothers who leave their babies at the hospital- sometimes I like to think "why did mine die? Why not theirs? They don't even want their babies." It's frustrating. And I know we don't have it as bad as others- I've met mothers whose babies were conceived through IVF, and theirs were stillborn full term as well. It's their stories that hurt my heart even more. They wanted their child just as much as we wanted ours. They paid thousands of dollars just to conceive, and their child still wasn't safe. It's sad. This is an unfair world. An incredibly cruel, and unfair world.

And I hate that we can't watch her grow up. Instead, I watch other children who were born within a few weeks of her death and delivery. First birthday photos have started floating around Facebook. Chubby baby cheeks covered in frosting, adorable photo shoots... We don't get that... We didn't get to see her roll over for the first time, crawl for the first time, to take her first steps. I wasn’t even able to dress her-not even once. I'm not able to see what face she would have made if I were to give her a lemon slice. I haven't changed hundreds of diapers, cleaned spit up off my shirt, or cleaned poo from the bathtub. There have not been sleepless nights filly by a crying infant- instead, they were full of my own crying. I should have been planning her birthday party- I should have been decorating a cake in pink frosting. I may have even have waited to announce our current pregnancy till her birthday if she were still here. That would have been fun, wouldn’t it? Picture Lilly, with her big cheeks, a huge bow, her little toothy grin and waving with balloons around her and a shirt that says “Big Sister.”

This past year has been hard. Sooo incredibly hard. But you know what? It’s also been pretty great. Yeah, it’s been hell, but we have had so much love and support from all of our family and friends. And I have seen how God placed special people in my path this entire time. I didn’t know why I was so compelled to go to Madison Women’s Clinic when I knew I had fertility problems. At the time, I just felt like it was the right place to go. And now I know why- both of the OBs who practice there were so incredibly kind and caring after we learned of Lilly’s passing (they were cool before, but were so much cooler after). Turns out, both doctors had also experienced stillborn children. They knew the feelings and emotions and trials that my husband and I would go through. They had walked the path that we were now walking. And the nurses! I loved all of the nurses who ever took care of me. I got to know the receptionists over the two and a half years that I visited that office. When I returned for my six-week check up, they took me back and cried with me. They cried with me! I have been able to be there to support other mothers through similar circumstances because of what I have experienced. And because of our daughters passing, Mr. Barcenas and I have grown together like I never knew we could before. Our relationship has strengthened and solidified. Before, we had it good. Like any other couple, we would argue every now and then, and we loved each other. It really was a great relationship before. But now, we have a different kind of love. It’s deeper, and in my opinion, something that will be much harder to break or fade away. We’ve survived what I believe to be one of the most difficult trials that God could have thrown our way. And we are so much stronger because of this. I really think that’s been the best thing to come out of Lilly’s death- how my marriage is better.

I’m hoping that this next year continues to get easier, and that the pain will be easier to handle. I remember where I was at just nine months ago, and to compare that time with now is crazy- I’m in a much better place emotionally now, and I can handle my emotions better. Sure, I still cry, I still miss my daughter, and I still want her here, but my scars have thickened, and the same painful jabs don’t hurt as bad.