Day by day

I have said before that during my pregnancy I had followed other blogs of BLMs who were also pregnant with rainbow babies or had just brought a rainbow baby home.  I was curious how to live with a rainbow.  I was curious what emotions to expect with a rainbow while also grieving a baby lost.  I wanted to know what to expect with the fears of bringing a baby home again and the if there would be sadness always prevailing, or if happiness would overrule.  I was so excited and happy to be pregnant again, but I really wanted my sweet baby Chase back and I was too scared to think about the what-ifs.  Because I knew this baby really would not even be growing inside me if Chase were here.  My/our life would be so completely different.  So completely normal.  Without so much pain....and knowing...

Now I can speak about these things, because now I am here on this journey.  And I can say that I am soo completely scared to death.  I am so scared that something is going to happen or that something isn't going to be right with Owen.  I have read about babies lost after a few weeks old.....I can't imagine.  Losing Owen at this point would devastate me.  Us.   Just like losing Chase.   And while my pregnancy was fairly stress-free and worry-free, I don't feel that way anymore.  That peace that was over me assuring me that everything would be fine, or that everything was fine right now, is no longer around me.  Having Owen in my arms is a constant reminder of Chase.  And this is good because I love reminders of him and always thinking about him.  But the fact that he isn't here makes these constant reminders haunting in some respects, too.  I look at Owen and love him to pieces, like I love Chase.  But part of me feels like I traded in one for the other.  I couldn't have both so I had to pick.  Like if you have ever had that terrible, terrible thought of what if you had to pick between one of your kids, which one would you choose?  Maybe I'm the only one who fears that or has thought about that, but it's a horrible feeling.  And sometimes I feel that way when I look at Owen.  Like he's here because Chase is not, therefore I picked him over Chase.  That tears me up inside and some days I'm not sure how to get past that.  They are tears just under the surface.  Thank God I'm home alone all day because those tears surface occasionally and I just cry.  I love Owen so much.  So.So.Much.  But I miss Chase Just.As.Much.  

I've read this on other blogs and know that I'm not alone.  The rainbow baby doesn't fix it.  We don't expect it to fix it.    There are no replacements.  But to the outside world, it does.  Or should.  And people don't understand why we could be sad with  such a beautiful, perfect little babe in our arms.  But then we don't care about being understood, right?  We are here and they are there.  There is no crossover.  (or very few who can crossover) Two different worlds.  And we rely on our new friends, other babyloss moms and dads, to help us through this.  

I was in the dr.s office this morning with Owen for a weight check and when the doctor came in to look at him, after she had seen his weight (no gain), I started crying.  I wondered if she was looking at me like a mother who was worried about her baby gaining weight, or a mother who had lost a child and was scared to death that her baby was not gaining weight.  I think the latter--this doctor is absolutely awesome.  She talked me through it and was not really concerned about Owen, but also wanted to see him again to check up on him and make sure we gained some weight next time.  But these are the fears that get magnified when you are on this journey.  And I wonder if I would have been like this if this was our first child, rather than our last child.  Would I want more children?  How would have this affected our lives if it would have happened years ago, when we were younger?  I am so thankful it didn't. But I am quickly reminded that this shouldn't have happened in the first place.  And I shouldn't be on this journey at all.  

Here's my rainbow.  He warms my heart,  keeps me smiling, and I can't wait to see him playing with his brother and sisters.  And neither can they!

So much love...

Here are a couple pictures I just had to post.  I know I'm biased but Owen is the most beautiful babe in the world (well, tied fifth, anyway--with his brothers & sisters!).  I am breathing him in with every kiss, every whisper, every smell of his sweet skin.  Loving him with my entire being.  And there is no way in the world to do this without, at the same time, thinking about Chase.  Sometimes these are happy thoughts, remembering his smell in the isolette, his soft skin, his feathery hair.  As I was taking this first picture, I was talking to Owen.  And when I talk to him, I'm usually right in his face, my mouth right next to his ear or at his cheek.  Talking, breathing, smelling him all at the same time.  And as I was leaning over the crib, bent down next to his face, I was taken back.  Back to those few days when Chase was the one I was bending over the crib talking to.  I remember talking to him just the same as I talk to Owen now, but he did not respond to me.  I begged, pleaded with him to fight for us because we wanted, needed him with us.  I remember leaning over to him talking to him thinking that I could actually fix him if he just heard my voice, felt my breath, smelled my skin.  That these things would wake him up and he would just all of a sudden open his eyes and look at me, smile at me, cry, something.  Anything.  All he needed was his momma, I thought.  I remembered this as I spoke to Owen and cried.  I asked Owen to tell his brother hi for me and to tell him to come visit me in my dreams soon.  The pain from missing Chase is just as strong now, maybe rekindled a little with Owen's arrival.  But mostly I am thankful.  Thankful to Chase that Owen is here.  And thankful to Owen that I can imagine some things more clearly now about Chase and think of things we missed out on and how wonderful they would have been.

Same....but different

Some days I still can't believe it.  I can't believe I'm not pregnant anymore....or that I may never be pregnant again--and I'm not sure after the c-section if I ever would go through that again!  Things are so fresh from the memories I have of Chase.  My house was cluttered with food, flowers, toiletries....just like it is now, but last time it was because we had lost our son.  People stopped by, brought dinners, just like last time, but it was because Chase died, this time it's the opposite.  The whole time we were in the hospital....it seemed like such a thin line between where we are currently traveling and where we had been just 22 months ago.  The only difference was that we had a bassinet in our room with a baby in it this time.  I had to pinch myself several times to realize what was happening before me....or to snap myself out of what had happened last time we went down this road.  This time it was just so happy.....last time it was so incredibly painful.   The difference between bringing a baby home and not bringing a baby home......and to know what both sides are like---it's almost surreal in itself.  You are constantly checking yourself, making sure it's not a dream....just like last time.....

I talk to Owen all the time about his brother.  I use him to talk to Chase....send messages to him for me....more directly than I could before Owen was here.  I use Owen to gauge Chase's growth that I couldn't before because I had no frame of reference.  Now, my little frame of reference is staring me right back in the face.  And I can't deny him.  Chase was here so much for me to get through the pregnancy with Owen.  Now Owen is here to help me on my grief cycles with Chase again.  Kinda weird how they "piggyback" on each other....guess that's what brothers do.  I picked up Chase's footprints and held them next to Owen's and guess what?  They were the exact.same.size.  I can't even begin to put into words how I miss my little boy.  Or how much I love my newest little boy.  These two are part of each other.  Just like we all are part of each other.  But these two are connected--extra special.  I can feel it.  I know Owen can feel it.  And I look forward to nurturing that bond as he grows.  It won't be obsessive, or in a negative way.  Just in a loving, guardian angel sort of way.  That we are all protected by Chase in all we do.  

We are so happy--I couldn't be more so about our family.  We are so very full of love.  We have a full house, a full car...I'm not sure what more we could ask for.  Though we miss our little boy more than anything, we are thankful for him.  For the gift he brought us.  For the gift he continues to bring us each and every day.  Welcome little Owen, to a family full of life and love and happiness.  May you share in these with us and continue to teach us more about your brother that we never got to know. 

Owen Chase Pearson

We welcomed our 5th born Friday morning, February 11th at 8:34 am.  More details to come but I just wanted to announce his long awaited arrival and thank everyone for their prayers and well wishes during this rainbow journey.  Each one of us exhaled, so to speak, with Owen's birth.  Here are some pictures.

This event was very emotional for all of us.  I can't begin to tell how excited we are to have Owen home with us and how blessed we feel.  Chase was part of this event in many ways; he protected us, he prepared us, he taught us how to love another one again.  There is sadness in our hearts that Chase could not be a part of this, but yet we know that Owen wouldn't be here if we had Chase.  Knowing this we love Owen with all our hearts.  He is part of our family, just as Chase is.  He will grown with us and he will share with us all the love in our hearts and then some.

Dates

When you have monumental moments in your life, you recognize dates.  Just the same as if these moments are tragedies.  And those dates are triggers.  When you see those dates, many thoughts come back.  For a long time after Chase died, every expiration date I read on groceries, medicine, frozen foods, mail packages....I referenced each of them to Chase.  Before or after.  Or on some occasions, the date was Chase's birthday, or his death date.  Or his due date.  For the last couple weeks, I have been seeing dates, thinking about those triggers.  Or hearing dates.  When I see or hear about something on or after February 11th, I think to myself, "is that going to be happy or sad for me?  Is that going to be before or after a tragedy?  How is our life going to be different at that time?"  I see that date a lot--it's on the milk cartons, the meat packages.  And I remember that feeling when Chase died.  I know I thought about it before he was born, too, and thought with excitement about how our life would be changed by that date and it would be so exciting.  I want to think the same now when I see February 11th, but those thoughts creep in and I wonder if my world will come crashing down by the time that milk is expired.  I don't make hair or dentist appointments, I don't sign up for baby emails, I don't do anything in advance of that date.  Because it is such a huge date for us that I need to let it get here.  If I anticipate it too much, I might be let down.  If I make plans afterward, I will remember that I set that appointment before......it happened.  

I know it sounds crazy.  As does much of what I blog about these last few weeks.  I guess it's just all those feelings and emotions that come along on this journey.  And most wouldn't understand.  But seeing these future dates have been bothering me for a while now....and there is nothing I can do about it.  Just get past it.  And of course I don't want to wish time away, because I have precious time on my hands right now.  Every day I am carrying this little boy is a gift.  I wouldn't give that up for the world.  But I know futures are uncertain.  And there is pain...just as there is happiness.  But I just don't know what is out there for us.  I know both sides....all too well.  And I don't want to see or hear another February 11th (or later) date, until I have mine.  And it is all good.