One Year Ago This Game

College Football...in the midwest it's a sure sign of fall and a way of life all year long. I've been an Ohio State Buckeye fan since I was old enough to hold a pom-pom. There are pictures of me as a toddler walking around in a Buckeye's cheerleader uniform. Gamedays are a huge tradition with my family and friends.

When I was pregnant, one of the first things I bought was a bib that said "I Slobber Scarlet and Gray". Once we found out we were having a boy, Brandon and I bought Caleb every Buckeye outfit we could find. My original due date was scheduled the same day as the National Championship game that every Buckeye fan prays we will play in every year. I imagined laying in the hospital bed, nursing Caleb, and watching our Bucks bring home a National Title.

I had visions of Caleb playing football one day, taking him to games in the 'Shoe, and establishing that weekly autumn tradition with my little boy. My uncle (the man that raised me as his own daughter) made OSU games one of the most memorable parts of my childhood. I couldn't wait to pass that on to my little one.

Tonight, OSU is playing USC. It's a huge game. Two top ten teams going at it. Tickets were $4,000+ in some cases. The whole town of Columbus is basically tuned into this game. This is a make or break game for OSU and for all it's fans. All I can think about is last year, when OSU and USC met for a game on a night like this, at this same time. The weather here was almost the same. All my friends and family were talking about the game all week. I watched the game on the same TV, wearing this same shirt, with the same excitement. One thing was so different then though.

Last year, when I watched this game, I had Caleb with me. He was rooting the Buckeye's on with his mommy and daddy. We were counting down the days until he would join us and we could put all the adorable little scarlet and gray outfits on him. He was still here, very real to me- not just a memory. Not just a could have been or should have been. People were all too eager to talk about him. To share in my excitement about having my very own lil' Buckeye.

Not anymore.

My son is gone. My happiness, my excitement, my hopes are gone too. I miss him so much tonight. He should be here, cheering for our team with me. He should be wearing a little jersey. I should be plastering my Facebook with pictures of him. But he's just not.

The entire city is buzzing with excitement for this match-up that is about to start and all I can think about is how much better things were one year ago this game.

Something in the Air

Bittersweet October. The mellow, messy, leaf-kicking, perfect pause
between the opposing miseries of summer and winter. ~Carol Bishop Hipps

We've been having unseasonably cool weather the past couple of days. It feels and looks like early Fall. Nobody is at the pool, enjoying the last few days of summer break. Everyone grabs a sweater before heading outside. If I hid the calendar, I would swear that it was October and not August.

This mild weather has transported me back to last year. To the last time I felt weather like this. The temperature outside has that same crisp feeling that it did on October 2nd, 2008. The night that I left the Maternity Ward feeling very un-maternal.

The grass is getting darker- turning from it's usual bright summer green, to a more muted green that it turns every year just before dying. I look out my window and see the same color grass I did on October 4th, 2008. The day that was supposed to be my baby shower, but instead turned into a day of visitors dropping off flowers and food and making awkward conversation before quickly shuffling out the door.

There is even a smell in the air. I'm pretty sure it's a Midwest smell symbolizing the end of pool parties and cook-outs and the beginning of college football and leaf blowing. It's the same smell that was in the air on October 26th, 2008- the day we had Caleb's memorial service. I stood there, in front of family and friends, reading a letter I wrote to Caleb- feeling the crisp air, noticing the dying grass, and smelling that autumn smell.

I was closer to him then. His hospital gown still had the remnants of his smell. People around me still let me grieve openly and honestly. I could still remember the way his skin felt against my lips.

The weather is back, but my Caleb is gone forever.

Our Thing

Sorrow you can hold, however desolating, if nobody speaks to you. If they speak, you break down. ~Bede Jarrett

I've been M.I.A. lately. Writing about Caleb, whether other people read it or not, is helpful sometimes. Most of the time actually. But there are times, like these past few weeks when writing is just too much. It brings up too many emotions that are already making it hard just to live life each day.

Brandon tells me that Caleb is "our thing". I can't expect other people to remember him, to celebrate his life the way we do. He says that by expecting that from everyone I'm just causing myself more pain. I KNOW he is right. It makes sense. He's our son--we are the people responsible for his legacy. Still, sometimes is nice when people remember. It's nice when grandparents include him in their counts of grandchildren or when people bring him up in conversation. I know I can't expect this from everyone all the time, but occasionally it's nice to know that people still care and remember him and the life that was cut way too short.

Caleb is "our thing", probably more so "my thing". I was the first one to know he was growing inside me, to feel him move, to hold him, to kiss him. The moment I found out there was a baby on the way my life changed. I started making all these plans. I had him grown-up and married off before I was 15 weeks along. Now here I am with nothing but a memory and a broken heart.

Oh...and some flowers....

Happy Every After....

The Longest Day of My Life....

I took last Thursday off from writing about Caleb's story. Writing and sorting through the emotions that come with remembering these events in such detail is very hard for me. Last week was a bad week and I was in NO WAY prepared to write. I'm back now and ready to share more of Caleb's story...

Tuesday September 30th, 2008 was a beautiful autumn day. The sun was shining and the smell of fall was in the air. The leaves were starting to turn and people were beginning to put out Halloween decorations. College football was well under way. People on the TV were talking about OSU's big game against Wisconsin the following weekend. It was a typical fall day in Ohio.

I remember that day in such detail. I absorbed every single minute of it. I don't always do that in my daily life. I tend to zone out a lot and find hours of my life gone without really knowing where they went or what I did. I never remember my daily commute. I don't really remember the details of the first time I met Brandon. My wedding day is a blur. And my high school graduation might as well never have happened. But this day was different...I was so alert for every single minute. It is burnt into my memory forever.

I started calling my doctor at 8 a.m. that morning. I wanted to see my doctor- I wanted him to do a real ultrasound and to tell me this was all some big mistake. I knew we would all laugh about it later. The doctor in the hospital last night didn't even say Caleb was gone. She never said those words so it must not be true. Besides that ultrasound machine wasn't nearly as nice as MY doctor's machine. Surely he will be able to find a heartbeat. These are the things I thought in my head knowing all along that I was lying to myself.

Finally, I got a hold of my doctor's nurse. She told me I could see him at 1 o'clock and then we could discuss our options. Yeah, like there were any. Brandon was sleeping and I was going crazy in the hotel room. I called my boss and told her. I talked to my Grandma, my uncle, and Brandon's mom. I didn't really know what to say, but I felt like I had to be strong. I woke Brandon up and told him we had to leave that hotel room. I felt like a caged animal. The truth is I could have been anywhere and felt that way.

I knew I couldn't go home still. All the baby stuff would be too much. We drove around pretty aimlessly for a while. Finally, after what seemed like eons, it was time to head to the doctor's office. Since it was a Tuesday, my doctor was working in another office out in a rural part of the area. The office is kind a generic office for many different doctors. They all share it and provide medical services for the people in the area. Tuesday's happen to be Gyno days in the country.

Not only do the doctor's share an office, they also share a receptionist. And this is how I encountered Awkward Moment Number 1 (I'm sure any parent's who have lost a child can tell you about these moments. They also happen at places like the grocery store when you bump into an old friend and they ask about the baby or when someone asks you how many children you have). Had we gone to the regular office the entire staff would have known who I was and what was happening. I had called the office 20 times that morning and talked to everyone from the nurse to the cleaning lady. But it wasn't that office. Instead, we got to play 20 questions with this receptionist. Finally, my doctor's medical assistant arrived and saved the day.

She called us back into the room and told us how sorry she way. She was so sweet that it made me feel bad for making her a party to this horrible event. Finally, our doctor came in the room. He hugged me and told us how sorry he was. Again, he is such a nice guy and I felt so bad for bringing him this pile of crap which was my life at the moment.

He told us we could wait and see if labor began naturally or I could go to the hospital and be induced. He spoke with the hospital staff and they said I could come in at 8 p.m. that night. I knew I couldn't walk around waiting for labor to start. I couldn't knowingly carry by dead baby inside of me. I had to go and I had to go as soon as possible. He said he understood and told me he would be on call all night, though he doubted anything would happen until the next morning. I asked him if I had to see the baby. At that point, neither me or Brandon thought we wanted to. He told us that we didn't have to, but he recommended it. Looking back, I can't believe I even thought I wouldn't want to see Caleb.

We left the doctor's office and had no where else to go. I was forced to face the baby stuff. We went home and I started calling funeral homes. Brandon and I discussed a funeral, but we both knew we couldn't do that. We would have him cremated and bring him home to be with us forever.

I talked to several people that day, but the conversation I remember most was with one of my best friends, Mandi. Mandi's son James was stillborn in 2004. We talked on the phone for a long time. We talked about seeing the baby, what to bring to the hospital, pictures, and outfits. We talked about how this is the worst thing that could happen and how unfair it is to lose a baby you haven't even met. We said that Caleb and James were now buddies in Heaven. We talked about how the pain never goes away but that it will become easier to deal with after time. She told me to hold my baby and to do all the things I would have done if he had been born alive. She told me how sorry she was that I had to join her "club". I'm very fortunate that I have had Mandi on this journey. A lot of mom's in my shoes are very alone, but I am able to discuss this with someone who I have known for a long time and who knows me inside and out.

After I talked to Mandi, I decided to take a bath and try "enjoy" what could be my last few hours of being pregnant. I shaved my legs and scrubbed the dry skin off my feet. I wanted to at least feel presentable during what I knew would be an otherwise ugly time. Then I took a short nap and got ready to leave for the hospital.

As much as I didn't want to go, I had to get it over with. Holding on to what was would have been pointless....

The Jury is Out

"There is not remedy for love but to love more." ~ Henry David Thoreau

In law there is this Latin term, Stare decisis, which basically means "that which has been decided". It's used to explain the obligation of judges to follow precedent that has been established in previous decisions.

When you are trying to conceive a baby there is this constant cycle that you live through. First you bleed, then you countdown the days until you ovulate, then you try, try, try, try, and try some more to plant the seed. The final step (and the most exhausting believe it or not) is when you wait. Some women call it their 2WW, or 2 week wait. It's the period of time from ovulation, and hopefully conception, until you bleed again. This 2 week wait for me is stare decisis.

It's been decided.There is NOTHING else I can do. My body knows if I'm pregnant, but I don't. There is no going back or trying more. The only thing I can do it wait. IT'S ALREADY BEEN DECIDED. Nature has to apply the facts:

Did I ovulate this month?
Did we try on the right day?
Did fertilization occur?
Did implantation occur?

The only thing I can do, and believe me I DO, is pray. I don't always pray that I will become pregnant. Sometimes I pray that God will help me see the blessings I already have in life. I pray that He will help heal some of my pain with that 30th day comes and I do realize that I'm not pregnant. I pray for understanding, contentment, love, and continued faith. But usually I'm praying for a pregnancy.

I don't understand why it's so hard. At this point, I feel like I have a better chance of winning the lottery than seeing a positive pregnancy test. Isn't it amazing how quickly that happened?!

So today is Day 29 and it's been decided. The jury will announce their verdict tomorrow. And there is NO chance to appeal the ruling.

Finding Out

Finding Out: Where the Heartbeat Would Normally Be

Monday September 29th, 2008. Ain't it funny the difference a day makes. I run across this date sometimes, usually at work, and I ALWAYS stop dead in my tracks.

It was just another Monday. I felt a little funny but I was getting further along and it seemed like pregnancy was affecting my body more everyday. I wish I could say that I didn't feel Caleb move around as much or that something just felt wrong, but that's not true. So much for maternal instinct, huh?

The last "normal" thing that happened that day was the electric company calling me to tell me our electric was shut off temporarily because someone had stolen copper wire from a sub-station. I remember laughing and joking with the customer service rep about the sheer stupidity of someone risking their life to make some quick cash. What a stupid memory. This would be the last time I laughed in that care-free kind of way for a long time. I called my Grandma to tell her about the electric incident and just to chat on my commute home. I didn't feel sick, I felt fine- energetic even.

This all changed when I got home. My right side started hurting and nothing I could do would make the sharp pain go away. I called my doctor's answering service and asked him to call me. I called my Grandma again- this time in pain. She told me to try laying down and wait for the doctor to call back. My doctor's partner called me back and asked me some basic questions. He told me it sounded like nothing but to go get checked out at the maternity ward anyway. I KNEW something was wrong. Brandon almost didn't go to the hospital with me. He was working nights at the time and was trying to get some rest before he had to go in. I remember standing at the front door being so irritated at him looking for shoes to put on. Internally, I knew the baby was in trouble but no one else did. This sounds awful but for a few seconds I was so angry with my husband. I was angry with him for taking time trying to find shoes, I was angry him for not knowing what I knew. My whole body was shaking but nobody else knew what I did.

We got to the hospital and got registered. I can remember the woman in registration asking me about some bill that I had just paid. I wanted to scream at her. I was sitting there in a panic with my husband who was clueless and this woman that wanted to discuss an $80 bill I had paid earlier that day. How could the whole world be so blind to what was happening?

Finally, I went back to the exam room. I had to give a urine sample and then the nurse tried to find the heartbeat. She couldn't. Another nurse came in and tried. She told me that they can be hard to find this early. Early? I was 26 weeks. I had heard the heartbeat very clearly at 12 weeks. One of the nurses said she thought she could hear something in the background. I'm sure it was my heartbeat. I begged for an ultra-sound. They paged the doctor and told me she would be right up. It seemed like it took hours for the doctor to get there. I said probably 100 Hail Mary's- just over and over again:

Hail Mary, full of grace, the Lord is with thee; blessed art thou among women, and blessed is the fruit of thy womb, Jesus. Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners, now and at the hour of our death. Amen

Brandon held my hand and told me not to worry. I was crying and told him it was bad. The baby was gone. He told me that I didn't know that and the doctor would be there soon. But I did know that. I knew that while the nurse was checking for the heartbeat, I knew that when woman in registration questioned me about a bill, I knew it when Brandon was searching for shoes and socks.

The doctor came and started the ultra-sound. I asked where the heartbeat was and in a rather stern voice she told me she was looking. I said "He's gone, huh?". She pointed to the screen and said "Well, this is where the heartbeat would normally be." Not a very direct answer and certainly not the one I wanted to hear. I started screaming- real screams- blood curdling, heart wrenching screams. They wheeled me into a private room and sent a nurse and chaplain in to talk to us. Brandon called my Grandma. What a call that must have been. A few hours before I was laughing about people stealing copper. Now she was hearing that her great-grandson was dead.

Eventually, I calmed down. The nurse offered me sedatives but I refused. Brandon told me I should take them. I couldn't- what if they were wrong? What if the baby was still alive? What if this was all just a huge mistake. The reason I love my husband so much is because he is logical but he is also very patient when I am not so logical. He took my hand, looked me in the eye and just said "No. Baby, there's no mistake."

We stayed in the hospital for a while. Eventually, my mom, grandma, and sister came up. My husband's mom also came up. The nurse told me I could be admitted that night or I could wait and see my doctor the next day and come back. We selected the latter option. I needed out of that hospital- but I knew I couldn't go home. There was baby stuff EVERYWHERE. We decided to get a hotel room that night.

I will never forget that night as long as I live. Brandon and I laid awake all night talking about everything. We talked about our son, our future, religion, death and everything else. It was a talk that reminded me of our early days together when we would stay on the phone with each other all night discussing everything and nothing at all. Brandon was SO strong for me during this time. He just seemed to have this way of putting everything into perspective. I've heard losing a child can drive some couples apart but in our case I think it made us love and respect each other even more.

And that is our story. That is how we found out that our son, our baby boy, would be born but would never have life.