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.

An emotional journey

Sometimes I forget.  I get so used to these kicks in my growing tummy and feeling them all throughout the day, every day, and I forget that I am the only one who has these constant reminders of this angel that is soon to be gracing our arms, our home, our hearts.  I spent the morning with Emma last Friday in the doctor's office waiting to have a terrible rash of hers  looked at, which turned out to be an allergy.  But I was grateful for the alone time we spent together.  We read, we talked, she watched some TV but mostly we talked.  She was very emotional and I thought this had maybe brought on or aggravated her rash, she was so emotional.  She wanted reassurance, or guarantee, that the baby was going to be fine.  And then she wanted just to talk about Chase.  She didn't want Chase to be forgotten when we brought this baby home.  Chase was/is her little brother.  He reminded us all of her and she was so proud of that.  This was very special to her and she didn't want that to ever go away....even though everything feels so distant the more time passes.   I tried to share with her my experience with this pregnancy....my reassurances, my signs from Chase, my peacefulness, the physical signs, the kicks, the messages that this baby was sending me.  These things I feel constantly.  I wish I could give her all those things that I have that help me feel peace, but I can't.  I put her hand on my tummy and she patiently waited and felt the baby kick and a glow instantly appeared on her face.  I told her that when this baby was born and when she held him in her arms the first time that her heart would heal in so many ways.  I promised her that Chase would be there with us to share that moment and to help her, too, feel that it was OK to love this new little baby like we so badly want to love him, Chase that is.  I want her to feel OK with these emotions like I do, but I forget what it's like to not have any thing to feel to remind me of Chase.  Because I feel him all the time around me with this new little one.  She asked me what if this baby looks a lot different from Chase, are we going to forget him?  I told her this baby needs his own identity.  But he is most certainly, in my opinion, a gift.  A gift that Chase has helped bring us.  And for this reason, Chase is always in our hearts and our minds when we prepare for and bring this baby home.  Which I am most positive that we will.  

But these are things we talk about.  I share my feelings with her in hopes that she, too, will feel some of the same things.  Because the pain is too close to think of this pregnancy any other way.  There are lots of things I am worried about and scared of but I strongly feel that we need to help ourselves get through this waiting part.  I can't even begin to explain how much I love feeling this baby kick me.  It is purely amazing when he is going crazy in there.  With the other 4 pregnancies, I never EVER thought of it the way I do now.  I never appreciated it or loved it or cherished all those movements and "totally bizarre" kicks.  They were just a part of being pregnant.  But now I absolutely adore them.  It is the coolest thing ever and I am so lucky to be carrying this little guy with me every day 24/7.  I can't imagine when he is born and I have to share him with Patric & the kids!  That's sometimes how I feel, honestly.  Not realistic, I know, but I love carrying him right now that much.  I love him that much.  And I can't wait until he is part of us....on the outside, too.  Thank you Chase.  You are my sweet angel, my sweet baby boy.  I love you so much.

It hurts to know so much

Last night I went to check on Karly and found her deep in thought about something while she was getting ready for bed.  I could tell she had something on her mind just by the way she was going about her business.  In fact, her mind was almost speaking out loud.  When I asked her what she was thinking about, she said, "Mom...(long pause) do you think the baby is going to be okay?"  I said, "Definitely, I do, honey."  And she started talking about her close friend at school whose mom just had a baby boy a couple weeks ago and how she wanted that so bad.  "Hope is just so lucky."

Yes, Hope is lucky.  But only you know how lucky she is, sweet girl.  Hope loves her new baby brother for sure, but she doesn't have the slightest idea how incredibly lucky she is.  And I wish you didn't know either, baby girl.  Karly said, "It's not fair, mom."  I know.  It most definitely is not fair, but you will get to hold this baby brother very soon.  "But mom I have to wait like 6 months or something and that is just so long."  Well, not quite that long but you get to feel him move in my tummy and talk to him and you'll get to hold him in your arms soon enough.  You just have to wait a little bit longer, honey.

This is the strangest thing about this pregnancy.  Not only for me, but for all of us, in some ways it seems like a continuation of Chase's pregnancy.  I don't know why it feels that way.  The time between Chase being born and getting pregnant again certainly was real.  It was painful.  And it was long (or so it seemed).  But now that I am pregnant and with big belly, it seems like I've been pregnant the whole time and we are still waiting for this baby to come out.  Why?  We all miss Chase and talk about him and ache for him daily.  It's not like he's still in my tummy at all.  I have heart-to-heart convos with Reese & Emma, too, about missing Chase and longing for this baby, but not wanting to forget Chase.  This feeling is odd and a struggle for us all.  But this is how we operate.  And, as tough as it is, we are making the most of it.  Loving our angel in heaven.....yet dreaming of holding our next one that is on his way to earth in due time.   

  

Real Life

I know how hard it is to parent a child in heaven.  But sometimes I forget how hard it is to be a sibling to one.  Last night the kids were at the table doing their homework and Emma brought in a package that had arrived from gramma.  She opened the box and gave everyone their little goodies that gramma had sent.  There was something for everyone....mom, dad, the three of them, and the new baby.  And she was not happy.  After a lot of prying and a couple threats (which I am not proud of), she spilled her feelings to me.  She was upset that gramma had not sent anything for Chase.  She was afraid that Chase was being forgotten and I could see it in her eyes as her tears began to flow, that this terrified her.  She was happy that everyone including the baby had a present in the box, but nothing in there for Chase meant he was forgotten, to her.  I explained to her that I didn't like the idea of buying things all the time for Chase as we have a big collection of memories and keepsakes for him and adding more things to that collection, is not something I wanted to deal with anyway.  She insisted that it didn't have to be a lot, maybe a photo of him or a letter or note to him.  She just wanted recognition of her little brother.  That's all.  Acknowledgement that he is part of our family and always will be even though he isn't here in our presence.  I grabbed her and hugged her and told her that we were not forgetting about him.  I told her we talk about him all the time and we will talk about him to his little brother every time we hold him and play with him and that this was her job, too. She knows that we do that....she told me that whenever her friends at school ask how many there are in her family, she tells them "7: me, Karly, Reese, Chase, the new baby, mom and dad."  She said she doesn't explain what happened to Chase unless they ask.  But she wants to say and hear his name to know that he is remembered by all and is a part of all our lives.  It hurts not to feel this confirmation.  

Since we were having this conversation and I was including the other two in it as well, Reese got a real sad look on his face and said to me, "I really hope we get to bring this baby home, mom."  I told him that we most definitely will and then he said to me with raised up sad eyebrows, "Mom, do you have a different doctor this time?"  I said, "Yes, baby, I do and you are gonna love her.  She is very nice and is taking very good care of me."  To that, he replied, "Good."

Woah.  I looked at each of the kids and my heart felt so incredibly heavy.  I could see and feel their pain, their worry, their fears and I wanted nothing more than to make it all go away.  But I know I can't.  I know that, like me and Patric, through all their excitement for their newest little brother and their anticipation for taking care of him and loving on him, they are scared to the very core that this, too, will be taken away.  It's like we are all standing here, tightening our guts, just waiting for someone to punch us there again.  Because they, too, really just want Chase back.  And it's this sadness and longing that makes the rainbow very hard to see, at times, through the dark and heavy clouds in our sky above us.

Let this be done...

I am ready for this trauma of Karly's accident to be over with. We went back to the dr. on Friday because I was worried about the oozing from her wound. The doc put Karly on some very high dose antibiotics and she has been so bravely drinking the worst smelling medicine I have ever seen. Sunday she was not feeling well and though I was pretty sure it was the antibiotics making her sick, I was paranoid about her wound not being well so after she registered a fever of 102+ at home, I decided we would go back to the ER to have it checked out.

The good news was they liked the wound and said it looked great so they took the stitches out. The bad news was Karly had what looked to be strep. For the love. What else does this kid need to damper her summer? We've been nursing that with double-dose ibu/pain reliever meds when she needs it. Ugh.

Then, like clockwork, Reese comes to me this morning with, "my throat hurts, I don't feel well. I'm going to lay down." Of course. Why would I think no one else would get this?

I'm tired of worrying. When Karly fell and had such a bad cut, I was scared. I felt my kids' mortality so acutely. Once again. Every time they get sick, I have "the worst" looming in the back of my mind because I know what it is like to lose a child. I wish I didn't, but I do, so those thoughts seem to surface whenever someone is ailing. But Karly fell and it happened so quick and it looked so awful and I couldn't believe we were dealing with what we had at hand. And I've been so worried about her arm and it healing that to have another, unrelated infection on top of it....I just don't need this! When Karly got sick I just didn't know what to do. And I was tired of not knowing what to do. I know what that feels like and then losing Chase--I didn't want to feel that way again. I finally broke down that morning with an overload of emotions feeling like a mother who can't take care of her own children. Like a failure. Of the worst kind. I was just tired, mostly, because of lack of sleep, but the burden of worry was making me more fatigued.

And now that Karly is almost halfway through her antibiotics, has her stitches out, and seemingly getting better, I feel another low blow knowing that Reese is coming down with her throat infection now and we are starting to battle this. Same bug, different kid.

I hate it when my kids are sick. Everybody does. Just those of us who know loss, seem to hate it a little bit more, almost on a level of paranoia.