Wave of Light 2017

I give myself the day. Today I'm allowed to feel sad. To do nothing. To hurt and stop normal life for a moment. To remember. To imagine. To accept that I am forever changed. Because of my experiences, my heart is that much fuller, and that much more broken.

​It’s October 15th- Wave of Light. It’s the 5th year I’ve participated and I’ve always found it to be very healing to reflect, mourn, and also give thanks for miracles.

This year has been amazing and my heart has been healed in more ways than I can explain. At some point you have to let go of your loss more than you had allowed yourself in years past. To get through the day to day. But it doesn't just go away. It never goes away.

I look forward to this day of memorial because it's the one day a year I give myself permission to feel completely devastated. And say “This is really unfair. It’s so unfair that this happened.” It’s still shocking to me when someone is 6 weeks pregnant and buying baby items, making plans- like, they are just confident their baby will live. Kevin and I have discussed how stunned that makes us feel- ignorance is bliss. Our reality still hurts. Many times I block out memories of particular days because the pain is still so rich and deep.

Some treat miscarriage as the loss of a potential person instead of the loss of an individual person. But I saw Aidia when she was just a "fetal pole" with the tiniest heartbeat. All of us start out the same way, in that fragile category. “Normal fetal pole with a heart rate of 129 beats per minute,” the radiologist recorded, “Crown-rump length: 6 mm.” She could have so easily turned into "loss number 7." After all, when I saw her it was Mother’s Day, and I was in the hospital, bleeding. With my history, being diagnosed with a “threatened miscarriage” didn’t provide much hope. But because she miraculously pulled through, I was blessed to know her. Just as I wish I could have known the others who didn't make it.

I just use this to illustrate the point of what is truly lost when our little ones perish so early on in their existence. So why does society tell us to hide our devastation?  It's true at times I've told myself my losses would have been more real if they happened at 8 or 9 weeks instead of 5 or 6.  I've been embarrassed of how traumatic they were for me.

I read an article recently that spoke of early losses and the way they are discussed in the healthcare setting. He said:

"This language change seems to be out of an effort to decrease a patient's feeling of loss, leading the woman to believe that this pregnancy was somehow “less” of a pregnancy... But to me it sounds like the old line about being just “a little pregnant,” as though it were possible. Sadly, this is no joke, and the language change doesn't stop many women from experiencing the loss just as real as any other miscarriage or lost child."

It's tempting to be frustrated that Aidia cries crocodile tears and produces piercing screams when I try to set her down.  It can be exhausting to have a baby in tow 24/7. And then I think- if she wasn't so clingy she never would have made it here. I needed a clingy baby. My rainbow after 6 consecutive losses. She held on tight to me and hasn't stopped.

She is everything I dreamed of. I love her more than I could put into words and I'm glad she loves me as fiercely. We both had to work and fight together to bring her into this world. That kind of bond is distinct and beautiful. And it gives me life and sunshine every day.

Lingering Effects

Aidia 6 months

I've been procrastinating this post for a while.  It's kind of embarrassing and it's hard to write about this stuff- but I told myself when I started this blog that I would always do my best to be honest so others going through similar experiences would feel validated and have some support.

So here's a shout out- to anyone in similar circumstances.
To you, who never wants to feel anything but happy because by some miracle, your baby made it to you alive.  Your joy is so full and overwhelming.  It's such a relief to be engulfed by such happiness and to be content for the first time in a long time.  But all those big and devastating emotions you felt repeatedly through the years don't just disappear instantly.  They have to go somewhere.

Sometimes it's hard to know how to process those "left over" feelings in this new season of bliss.
You still mourn your little lost ones.
You still have trigger moments.

A little over a month ago, we moved Aidia into her own room and I realized just how much postpartum anxiety I really have.  I knew in my mind it was the best thing for her because she is such a light sleeper.  She was constantly being awakened by us tiptoeing around our room.  We would even brush our teeth in the closet and still she would toss and turn.  I did want her to sleep better for all of our sakes.  I have a video monitor that responds to sound and/or movement.  I have her on an oxygen and heart rate monitor all night that I can check from my phone or its base station.  So WHY did the idea of being more than an arm's length away from my baby send me into such a spiral?

But with the help of my supportive husband- we gave it a try.  Instead of sleeping better, I had three panic attacks in three nights.  I would lay down, check on her with my multiple monitors, but the second I touched my head to the pillow, my thoughts raced unceasingly.

"What if there's a fire and I can't get to her because I'm trapped on one side of it and she's on the other."

"Her window is locked but we forgot to reinforce it with wood today so someone could get in." (Everything has since been reinforced to ease my mind- thank you hubby.)

And so on and so forth.  I would have horrible graphic nightmares.  The kind that are burned into your memory.  And it's hard to explain, but in that moment all these bizarre scenarios feel SO REAL and I was overcome with guilt if I were to TRY to sleep.  So I forced myself to stay awake.  When I started feeling sleep overtaking me, the panic attack would start.

The third night, and the third time it happened, was the most severe episode I've ever experienced.  Kevin thought for a moment that I was having a seizure.  I couldn't feel my hands or feet.  I couldn't see. I had so much chest pain and I just felt myself flop over and start twitching around.  I was really out of it- kind of like I was watching it happen from outside my body.  Kevin pulled me up and propped me up on a pillow and immediately went into the baby's room.  He set up the Pack n Play right next to our bed, and moved Aidia into it to sleep by us for the night.  Immediately I was calm and slept all night.  It's like ACTUAL separation anxiety.

But guess what- it's been getting better.  After that episode I decided to go get some help.  Which is SO HARD.  I am a huge fan of counseling, but it's not always possible right in the moment that you need to start seeing a counselor again.  My former grief counselor told me I was showing signs of PTSD after all my losses but before I was pregnant with Aidia.  It makes sense that some of those problems would linger.  I had medication that really helped me before, but I can't take it while I'm nursing.  And "safe while nursing" meds have not always been a good match for me.

So I went and had a really uncomfortable conversation with my doctor.  But I'm glad I did.  I feel like just doing something and admitting the problem helped start the healing process.  I now have some new medication.  I can't usually take it during the day because it makes me tired and kind of nauseous, but it does help me on the bad nights that I feel panic coming on.  I've taken medicine on the nights when I feel that build up, and I haven't had a full panic attack in a month!

I also reached out to my support group (and can I just say I belong to the most wonderful online support group in the world) and I found many women struggling with similar things after their losses.  We discussed all those feelings that you just can't "quite put your finger on" but they make you do weird things.  Like many of us don't buy clearance clothes that are several sizes too big because it's like... you wonder if your child will still be around.  Probably comes from never buying baby clothes too early in a pregnancy.  Some women confessed to never taking tags off of new clothes until dressing the baby in them- just in case.  Some mothers have talked to me about how they can't sleep if their baby isn't in their arms, or if their baby isn't in the room- even older babies past a year old.  One particular story resonated with me.  The mother told me she had been awake all night going over this scenario in her mind.  If her van went into a lake, which one of her kids would she need to get to first in order to save them both?  She agonized over this decision and was discussing which carseat would be harder to get to, or if the baby vs. the older child would need assistance first.  An impossible choice in a fake situation that's highly unlikely to happen. And yet it keeps her awake at night.  We know it sounds crazy- but talking about the crazy helps everyone.  Just because it seems ridiculous doesn't mean it doesn't plague your life.

I'm working on leaving Aidia with Kevin for a couple hours at a time, and I've left her with her grandma a few times for short periods.  It's still hard but it's getting better.  I'm really working at it!  I may still have to take a few deep breaths before I let someone else hold her.  But progress is progress.  I try to be logical about it- I really do.  But logic can't make the sick feeling in the pit of your stomach go away.  I'm a believer that you can't live your life waiting in fear and that's why I'm working to manage my anxiety.

Fellow mamas- postpartum anxiety is SO COMMON especially if you've had other issues to complicate your concern for your baby.  Some research suggests it is even more common than postpartum depression (or goes right along with it.)

It is okay to feel like this! You are validated! I feel so embarrassed after an episode but my husband is very loving and reassures me. So if you are going through this before or after your miracle, I'm here to reassure you and encourage you to find help and support.

What if we treated physical issues like we did mental issues?  Scary to think about. Why are we SO hard on ourselves? Maybe that's why our body ends up "acting out" in such physical ways.  It's saying, "Hey! I need some help!"  I've struggled with really severe headaches since Aidia was born.  But I find that when my emotional health is better- my headaches get better for the most part.

I loved this article if you want to read more about parenting after miscarriage or loss:

http://beckythompson.com/2017/06/12/parenting-after-miscarriage-exposing-the-underlying-fear/


Anxiety can sneak up on you.  You could be having a totally normal day, and then feel like you can't go anywhere because you just KNOW you're going to get into a car accident with your babies in the car.  But when you push through it as much as you're able, and practice good self-care, it gets better.
It's a haunting realization to think... If I had given up after 5 losses or even after 6, I wouldn't have Aidia. I can't give up the fight now to enjoy her and not live life in fear!

I also worry about ripple effects from being too anxious at home.  Jack is getting a little old for me to be sharing his feelings on the internet, but this experience really spoke to me and motivated me to work harder on my problems.  He has this recurring nightmare about his baby sister dying- often by very violent means  (and no, I don't let him watch anything more violent than power rangers.)  I woke up to his sobs about a week after we moved Aidia into her own room.  He came into my room and he was sobbing her name.  It was the same bad dream.  I showed him all my monitors and told him that sometimes I also get scared that Aidia is ok at night, but looking at these help me feel better.  That calmed him down and he was able to go back to sleep after checking on her.  He was so worried through the whole pregnancy right along with me.  He's experienced these traumas and losses right alongside me as he's grown up.  Now he's nearly 6 and responds well to logic.  It helps ME to explain things to him and comfort him.  It's the reminder that I need.  But I certainly empathize with his worries!  He's doing better, and has this nightmare less often than he used to.

People seem to justify challenges with logistical reasons- for example, "you lost all those babies because you weren't supposed to have another kid before Kevin finished his doctorate, it would have been too hard."  I refuse to see life that way.  To see God that way.  Like do people think it was easier going through school having losses?!  People have kids when they're poor and overworked all the time.  However, I do believe that God guides us through challenges to change us into better versions of ourselves.  I am a changed person.  I can see the changes in myself just by looking back through the years of blog posts I've shared.

Her special "Omera" quilt!

We are so happy with our beautiful miracle.  Gifts and well wishes are still coming in from around the world.  They continue to remind me of the wonder of this miracle!   We felt that Aidia's middle name, Omera, fit her perfectly because it means "inspiring"  Aidia's namesake is my friend Marie who I adore. We helped each other survive being music majors in college. When I found out Marie's first name was Omera I just fell in love with it.  Marie's mama (a perfect stranger to me!) sent us this gorgeous quilt.  She hid her own name in the stitching, as her middle name is also Omera.  I hope Aidia will treasure the quilt and love the history it contains.

I love how sing-songy Aidia is.  Her little voice lifts my spirits.  I love watching the love Jack has for her too.  Baby girl has Daddy wrapped around her little finger.  She was worth the journey!  And to anyone struggling with anxiety of any kind- you are not alone!  Help is available.  Getting help provides the tools needed for you to live a happy life.  I'm living proof!

A Witness of His Miracles

Every time I look at Aidia...it's confirmation that God heard every one of my prayers.  He never abandoned me in my grief and I'm glad I understood just enough of that to keep going.

There are rare times in life where you become thankful for how impossibly difficult your trials were.  The joy truly matches the struggle and pain- and far surpasses it.

After writing so much over the years about our dreams of having another child, it would seem ungrateful to not follow up and speak of how wonderful it is!  Aidia is a little over 11 weeks old now!  She is healthy and thriving and the most gorgeous little person I have ever seen.  Even now, writing this, I still cannot believe that my blog now joins the league of the blogs that offer hope after recording the struggle.  It seemed so impossible.  And yet, here we are!  It truly speaks to the love our Heavenly Father has for us.  It is now my testimony that MIRACLES HAPPEN!  I want to go back in time and hug my past self for never giving up that last tiny bit of hope.  I would tell myself that dreams come true and to keep fighting for it.

I started writing this blog after my third miscarriage.  That was nearly 4 years ago.  I couldn't have imagined that I would go on to lose 3 more before meeting my daughter.  Those of you who have been reading since then know what a hard and painful road we have traveled.  The grief and sorrow nearly overtook my entire life.  Now I feel a responsibility to testify of God's love and miracles.  If anyone had reason to doubt, it was me.  I miscarried six babies in a row- how on earth did my pregnancy that followed all those losses bring me a perfect little girl?

Sometimes God really does give us the desires of our hearts after we've done literally everything we can.  I was preparing myself to find the faith "not to be healed."  I was trying to square away how I would live my life and keep my faith if I never had another baby born alive.  And yet, when I was finally able to surrender that will (and I was pretty stubborn about it), that bitter cup was taken from us, and a little angel came into our home.  She heals my heart each day.  Every single day feels like a gift- in a way I would not have understood had it not been for the loss I experienced first.  Some nights when I rock her to sleep I feel literally overwhelmed with gratitude- like please don't let this be a dream.  I love her so much it hurts!!

So many little moments have been cause for celebration!  I nearly cried when I got that beautiful piece of paper in the mail that read "Certificate of Live Birth."  Live birth.  With my name as the mother.  My heart overflows.

Life still has its moments.  We had a sudden move when Aidia wasn't even a month old yet and our whole world got flipped upside down.  I kind of felt like I was plucked right out of my support system immediately after having a baby.  My five year old can no longer attend school all day, we had to give away our doggie, and start all over with meeting people.  Kevin just officially started his career and there is plenty of stress for him (despite loving his job) with long and busy hours.  Then he gets to come home to two screaming children and a frazzled wife after work.  He's my hero.

I've struggled quite a bit with postpartum depression and anxiety- it makes me feel so guilty to struggle because I love my baby more than anything.  Luckily I've had no trouble connecting and bonding with her despite feeling depressed.  But I struggled before I was pregnant so I knew I was at risk postpartum.  I've also learned that those who have had extreme anxiety during pregnancy (...like me trying to be brave while pregnant after recurrent loss...) are very likely to have that anxiety linger on after birth.  I'm praying a lot to get me through it because I simply don't feel comfortable with going back on medication while exclusively breastfeeding.  Baby girl eats so often, and won't suck on a bottle (even though we continue to try.)  So even if I decided to bottle feed...it wouldn't really be an option.  However, breastfeeding is very important to me so it is worth suffering through being med-free to enjoy these moments with my baby (and I think breastfeeding helps with feeling happy.)

I lost about 22 pounds by the time Aidia was 2 weeks old, and that's where my weight has stayed.  I do want to start exercising soon, but Kevin says I need physical therapy first so I don't injure my back further.  He's probably right....  I should involve Jack with my exercising because he has been such a handful since moving- almost impossible some days.  But I know his whole world was just changed all at once too- so we're taking it a day at a time the best we can.

When I was in grief counseling, I talked a lot about my triggers for panic attacks.  One of the best things I've experienced since Aidia's birth is that the triggers have lessened immensely.  I can go to church without running out in tears.  I can grocery shop without a brick in my stomach and tears behind my eyes.  I even went to a diaper shower today and enjoyed it- I was genuinely happy to celebrate new babies coming into the world.  Having Aidia doesn't automatically take away my sorrow for my six lost ones- but I feel healed in a new way.  There's a little guilt for feeling better about my losses- but I'm sure that is normal.  I've put on my ring with my lost babies' "birthstones" in it (the months that I lost them in).  All six are different and it makes the ring look like a rainbow- it's so fitting now that I hold my rainbow baby in my arms.

 

When things are painful now, it's easier to run away from them.  I don't need to have the baby-hungry hurt anymore, because I have a baby at home.  There is still fear of losing more pregnancies in the future, and still hurt from the past- but I'm taking this season to rest from the pain and worries and just enjoy this most beautiful gift from my Heavenly Father.