A memorial day BBQ

I went to a BBQ this weekend at a friend’s. It was great- I needed some friend time, since Chris was away visiting his brother for the weekend and had lots of unused burgers and sausages that needed to be eaten. I debated bringing Muppet with me- I had asked my friend if I could, because it was an outdoor affair and I felt like I hadn’t spent enough time with her that day. But she can be a handful and I wasn’t sure I wanted the responsibility of watching her every move or causing trouble at someone else’s house (she is still a puppy and gets into all sorts of puppy mischief). In the end, I’m glad I did.

The BBQ was small- a couple generations- friends and some of their parents. I liked the mix of it. Muppet was a hit among the parents, which made me feel good. I needed the down time sitting in a chair with friends. Food was delish- extra so, because someone else cooked it! And a couple hours into the party, some friends came with their five week old newborn. I knew they were coming- the host had given me a heads up (which I so very appreciated) and so I tried to mentally prepare. I’ve been trying to face some situations more head on, less avoidance, though my feelings are still the same in these scenarios as they were a year ago- I can just control my emotions more. And I recognize I can’t avoid forever. I still think my feelings are valid, but now that it’s been over a year, I know that others might not understand why it hurts to see newbors or kids Mabel’s age.

It’s harder with friends and family, actually. Stranger babies are easier to see and forget, but I care about my friends and family- I care about their babies. So seeing them is actually harder, balancing my care and my sorrow.

IT was how I expected- there was no dangling the baby in front of my face, pretending that I had never buried my own baby. They were subtle, but they were also new parents, proud of the baby they had made. The older generation was smitten, practically arguing over whose turn it was to hold the baby. They asked questions to the new mom about sleeping and when she was returning to work.

I sat politely through it, my heart aching because I couldn’t help but think about how I didn’t get that with Mabel. How badly I wanted that simple interaction, those simple questions. How maddeningly unfair it was that I had a baby but didn’t get todo any of the normal baby/new mommy stuff. It felt like it never happened, which hurts even more! I wasn’t angry at the new family, I was simply jealous and reminded of the hurt. It really hurt. I felt so so cheated.

I think one friend might have recognized this a little- she pulled me into conversation when everyone else’s talk started to focus on the baby. I was so grateful for that, whether she did so knowingly or not. So we talked about non-baby things, while I reached down and petted my puppy, happy she was there with me.

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I stayed for more than enough time after, but was the first to leave, tired from a busy day and too much emotion.

Have you felt cheated lately?

Not faking it

At the dog park, a tall man stood next to me dressed in fatigues.  Because the dog park is such a friendly place, we chatted and I learned about his dog- name, breed, age, rescue.  He told me how he was a supply officer for the army- things like that come up when dogs are prancing on you with muddy paws and we talk about what we wear to the dog park.  We exchanged tricks we were working on with our pooches.
He was laughing a bit one time when I scolded my pup “Muppet, off!” I shouted as she jumped excitedly on a new human arrival to the park.
“I love that name Muppet! it suits her.” he chuckled.
“Sure does, ” I replied.
“I have a 17 month old at home and she just is getting into the Muppets.  WE put them on the tv and her face just lights up.”  He laughs at the image in his head and tries to imitate her expression.
I gave a weak smile.  I’m not proud of not really faking it then, but I just wasn’t in the mood.  Being at the dog park, I feel a little like a parent.  THat’s how we refer to each other- Muppet’s mom, Rosie’s dad, etc.  We don’t actually learn each others names.  We talk in ways I imagine parents of living children talking.   So we he brought a real live child into the conversation, reminding me that my bay was a furbaby, not the toddler kind she would have been, I kind of shut down. I hope I didn’t seem rude
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I was at the lunch table at work, happily chatting away with my staff.  I don’t always get a lunch break- let alone a lunch break that I can enjoy with my coworkers.  I’m often sitting at my desk eating as I chart or grabbing bites between patients and phone calls if it was a really busy day.  As I ate we small talked, I heard a secretary give a little squeal outside the lunch room.
“Look who I found in the lobby!” she sang.
Behind her was a man holding a 8 month old baby.  The son and husband of a coworker who was pregnant when I was and had her baby a few months after me.  She got to bring her baby home.
She has been very tactful around me- as most of my staff has.  I’m very grateful for that.  They also didn’t come into the lunchroom.  Those who wanted to see the baby got up and went out.  I sat and finished my lunch and scrolled through facebook.
Again, not proud of not faking it.
I know in both these circumstances I didn’t do or say anything especially rude, but it was my lack of response that was a response in itself.  I hope I didn’t seem rude.
Have you had any situations like this, where you felt your inaction made a statement?

March of Dimes

I was a bit nervous as I approached the park. Chris was called into work last minute on a Sunday, so it was just me and Muppet. I had never done the March of Dimes before. Strange, I suppose, when you think of my line of work. One would think that I might be a yearly walker, especially because the labor and birth unit at my hospital puts together a team annually. Honestly I probably wouldn’t have gone this year either, with my walk attention and fundraising efforts elsewhere, but the L&B team decided to walk this year in memory of Mabel. I was so touched. They had shirts made- orange for my karate carrot- with her name and a little carrot on the back.

Even though it was an honor to have my daughter the focus of their team efforts, I was still nervous because it was the March of Dimes. My first thought is of all the preemies who make it out of the NICU- the success stories.   The “sung” heroes- the poster children for why giving to the March of Dimes matters. See what your money can do, it saved this baby’s life. My baby was one of the unsung heroes- one who never saw outside the wires and beeping of a NICU room. But she was her own success. We knew she might not (likely not) graduate from the NICU, but we got what we had hoped for. When we were told our baby had a likely life limiting diagnosis, my hopes for her changed. Once hoping she would simply be a high functioning child with Down Syndrome who needed no surgery, the preterm oligohydramnios diagnosis changed my hopes- I hoped that she would survive pregnancy so I could meet her in person; I hoped she wouldn’t suffer; I hoped her case would be clear, so we wouldn’t have to make any extremely difficult decisions; I hoped she wouldn’t die alone. My hopes were met- she lived, which was her own making! Mabel’s NICU team helped with the other hopes- giving her pain medication so she wouldn’t suffer and keeping us informed about her prognosis so we could make those “simple” difficult decisions. The NICU couldn’t save her- her body wasn’t meant for this world with its current technology- but it gave us control, comfort and memories. Though Mabel didn’t survive, she is still a poster child for the NICU- exactly why people should donate to the March of Dimes, so that some day, a baby like Mabel would have a chance.

Did any of you participate in the March of Dimes? Or other walks/fundraisers/awareness events?

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Thank you nurses and midwives

This week is a big week in my healthcare world.  It is Nurses’ Appreciation Week and tuesday was International Day of the Midwife.  In honor of both celebrations, I wanted to thank my beloved nurses and midwives.

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Dear Nurses,

thank you for bringing some laughter into my triage room as we waited for the maternal fetal medicine doctor to come and give me terrible news.

Thank you for being the protector of my privacy- making sure I was ready for visitors in the midst of emotional turmoil.

Thank you for telling me about the “secret menu” the hospital offers where I can order quesadillas and pork bacon.

Thank you for sitting and chit chatting during my two week stay, keeping me sane and reminding me that things were happening beyond the fetal monitor I was trying not to watch.

Thank you for watching that fetal heart rate monitor so I could have the freedom just to be pregnant, knowing my baby was safe.

Thank you not commenting on how ridiculous i must have looked in in my sleeping outfit- it was just too hot to wear pants even though I knew you’d be coming in to readjust the monitor.

Thank you cheering me along in my in hospital exercise regimen.

Thank you agreeing to be my labor nurse, knowing my case would be emotionally hard and would likely sit in your memory for a long long time.

Thank you for taking photos of Mabel’s birth- not in your job description, but so meaningful to me.

Thank you for watching my baby in my stead, while she was whisked away to the NICU and I got my stitches.

Thank you for repeating everything the neonatologist said, right after he left because I could barely process it all.

Thank you for getting Mabel skin to skin with me for as long as humanely possible.

Thank you for the footprints, in ink and in clay, that turned out amazing, all done while she was on my chest.

Thank you for making sure she wasn’t in pain.

Thank you for taking out her breathing tube, gently, allowing me a first good glimpse of my daughter’s face free from medical equipment.

Thank you for taking photos, during her life and her death and in the after.

Thank you for feeding me, which I needed direly, but was unable to recognize myself.

Thank you for being present but unobtrusive.

Thank you taking her gently when I gave her up that very last time.

Thank you for giving me peace and solitude to sleep and to grieve in the hours after I gave her up.

Thank you for coming to her wake, taking me for walks, bringing me food in the aftermath.

Thank you for being part of it all and keeping her safe, in pregnancy, in labor and in the NICU.

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Dear midwives,

Thank you for all the extra care

Thank you each for calling and checking in when we got the news about Mabel’s Down Syndrome.

Thank you for letting me make tons of extra visits to help keep me sane.

Thank you for letting me use my appointments as mini therapy sessions

Thank you listening for a heartbeat first thing, so I knew she was still alive, before doing the rest of the visit

Thank you for having the hard conversations with me- the ones that were hard for me and hard for you.

Thank you for being honest, saying “I don’t know,” when I asked how I was supposed to return to midwifery if my baby died.

Thank you for giving me the few things I had hoped for- skin to skin, Chris cutting the cord and announcing gender (if he could figure it out!).

Thank you coming to meet her in the few hours she lived- so that you are part of the proof that she actually existed.

Thank you for her dress, an outfit given with love and purpose, the only outfit she worse outside her grave.

Thank you for eating wings with me, bringing me cabbage leaves for engorgement and looking at photos in the aftermath, reminding me that you are not only my midwives, but my friends.

Thank you for the donations you made in Mabel’s memory

Thank you for the lilac bush that you gave me because you know purple is my favorite.  It’s beginning to bloom right now.

Thank you for remembering dates- due dates and anniversaries.

Thank you for saying her name, easily and freely, just like she was any old living child.

Thank you for keeping her safe in my womb and alive in memory.

 

 

 

 

 

In other news…

*sensitive*

I have other news. Based on my sensitivity warning, I’m sure some of you may have guessed it.

I’m expecting.

In a way I feel I’ve been living a lie not going public on the blog until now. But I have been hesitant for two reasons:

  1. I want this blog to be about Mabel. I’m learning that this pregnancy is about Mabel too, so much about Mabel, so the two overlap and it’s hard to keep them separate.
  2. I know there are many other babyloss moms who read and follow, who may want another child, who may be trying and not pregnant yet, who may not be able to for medical or emotional reasons, who are looking for a pregnancy-free and baby-free place to connect about their own losses. While I was trying to conceive, I saw other babyloss blogs morph into pregnancy after loss blogs and I couldn’t follow anymore. It was too painful (I know for some it may be inspiring- but for me it was hard). I would hate to cause anyone else pain. So I’ve hidden.

But I need to come out- it’ll help me return to blogging (I hope! So much more limited time with the new job and all). I can be more honest in my writing and not protective of my words. And importantly, I’m still working on bonding with this baby, recognizing that this pregnancy is real and different, that I might actually get a take home baby. Announcing it in some way is a step in that process.

At this point I don’t intend on making this a pregnancy after loss blog. Right now all my remarkable moments involve Mabel and I want to continue to write about her, for her. I may mention this pregnancy but right now only in relation to how it keeps Mabel into my life. I realize this may change over time too- and I will give warning if I need to write more about this one. For the meantime, here are some stats some of you may want to know:

 

Due date: mid July

Currently: 30 weeks.

Testing: we chose non invasive genetic testing which was “normal”

Gender: another surprise

Baby nickname: the pea

How do I feel: grateful and fortunate. Physically, tired and some pelvic pain, like with Mabel, but nothing I can’t handle. In fact, I love all the symptoms because they make it real.

So please bear with me as I navigate this blogging world, trying to be sensitive but also real.

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Work update!

I have a new job!

I still have my old job too.

Since I returned to work I’ve been seeing patients in the office 4 days a week, the fifth day is a day of appointments- therapist, chiropractor, acupuncture and general mental well being. I took a significant pay cut to work this schedule, one that kept me out of the hospital, and I am thankful that my practice was able and willing to accommodate me. But the “(when) will I go back to births” question always hung over my head. When I first asked to be an office-only midwife, I left the door open to return to birth, but with no time line. I still like having that option, but my practice needed something a little more definite. I honestly thought I’d be back by the holidays (Thanksgiving and Christmas) so I could repay my co-midwives for unexpected holiday time they put in for me last year. But I soon realized that goal was unrealistic. It caused me a lot of stress to even hear my co-midwives even talk about holidays and schedule, knowing they had more to do because of my absence from the hospital. When the topic came up at our winter midwife meeting, I conveniently had to use the bathroom at that moment. In addition, my practice wanted to know whether they should hire another midwife to replace me or if I’d be back soon. Well I finally was able to give them an answer.

As of April first I took on a part time position as Program Director for Hope After Loss, my local non profit helping those who have experienced pregnancy and infant loss. The organization runs peer-led pregnancy and infant loss support groups in four towns, does outreach and education to hospitals, medical providers and anyone who asks, and provides burial or cremation financial assistance to those who cannot afford it for their babies.

Taking on this new position means I plan to remain in the same capacity at my other midwife job- no call. I gave them the go-ahead. Hire another midwife! Takes a huge burden of guilt off my shoulders. I know my colleagues are sad to hear I’m not doing birth in the near future and I’m sad too- there are some things I miss about it, certainly the hospital staff I almost never see anymore! But I know I’m not ready. Some may call it avoidance, but I call it self-preservation. I need to still work on enjoying midwifery in the office and finding fulfillment there before I can return to joyful birth in a place that holds so many memories for me.

This wonderful new part time position has kept me a busy bee these past few weeks, hence my absence from the blogosphere.  But my dear friends, I have missed you!  And I”m trying to be back.  I have much to tell.

Hi from the silence

Hi, I say meekly.

I’ve fallen off the map.  Everyday I want to write, I want to connect with the community that has held my hand through the past year and a half, I want to tell you all what’s in my head.

I’m ok.  I just wanted you to know that.

I”m just swamped!  I’ve taken on a second job, which I”ll write more about as soon as I can rightfully.  I feel like I have so little time- most of it I try to stay on top of reading other’s blogs so I feel more connected.  But the longer I stay away from writing, the harder it seems to restart.

So for now, I’ll write just a snippet.

Today I was at the dog park and there was a woman there with a teenage girl with Down Syndrome.  She had dark hair and glasses, very high functioning with good conversation skills from what i could overhear.  I so so badly wanted to tell both her and her mother about Mabel.  I wanted to talk to the girl- get to know her.  We exchanged a few words- about our dogs and about a lady who was holding her tiny dog in the pouch pocket of her sweatshirt.  I hung out close to them, trying to figure out how to start more conversation, but then it was time for them to go.  That sweet little interaction made my day.