It's Been a Long Time

Wow. It's been a long time since I have sat down to write. So much has been going on, but at the same time I haven't really felt up to writing. So here is a rundown on the past few months:

1. We are closing on our first home in less than a month. It's exciting, scary, and bittersweet for me. Exciting because it's a home of our own. We can paint, change the carpet, hang curtains or even color on the walls if we want to. Scary because it's such a commitment and I'm a constant worrier. Bittersweet because the last time we were preparing to move it was because of Caleb. We needed a bigger apartment. Then he died and the day after I got home from the hospital we had to move into our bigger apartment. I never thought we would live here for 2 years and not have a new baby for the nursery.

2. I have started attending a new church. It's in the same network of churches as the old one I was going to, but much closer to where we live. The congregation is also much smaller, but I love the family feel. From the moment I stepped in the door on my first Sunday, I felt God in my heart telling me this is where I am supposed to be. I'm going to working as an assistant in the pre-school room one Sunday per month starting in September. I'm so excited to get to share Jesus Christ with the little ones. My church attendance was sporadic when I was young and I'm not sure I REALLY knew Christ or what He did for me until, honestly, I was around 19 years old. I wish I knew more before then. I believe it would have saved me a lot of pain. At the same time I struggle with the wondering if He allowed me to go through that pain so that I could see how much I really need Him in my life. Anyway, I look forward to sharing His word with all of the little ones.

3. Infertility stinks. Secondary infertility really stinks. It's so painful to continuously see friends and family conceive with no problems and to feel like such a failure. I know, I know. I'm NOT a failure. Conceiving has little to do with me and more to do with God's plan for me. Knowing this doesn't alleviate all of the pain, however. We have met with a new infertility specialist. He was nice and optimistic (they usually are at first). He wants us to undergo some further testing, including another semen analysis for Brandon and another HSG-like test for me. He also wants me to have some additional blood work, which seems standard but was never ordered by our old RE. As evidence of my lack of excitement to go through this gamete of tests, I failed to schedule any of the appointment during my last cycle. I'm debating on doing it this month or waiting a while.

Our new house has 3 bedrooms, one of which would make the most perfect nursery. I mentioned to Brandon yesterday that maybe we should just make it a guest room. It seems silly to waste space on a nursery for a baby that may or may not ever join our family. He was adamant that we set up the crib and create a space for the baby he is much more confident we will have. It was sweet to hear that from him.

4. Caleb's 2nd birthday is coming up in October. If he was born when we expected he would be nearly 20 months old. I try to imagine what he would look like, what he would sound like, and how our lives would be different with a little toddler running the show. I know he's in a better place with someone who loves him even more than I do. Still I can't help but wonder "what if?"

And now, because I can't show you what he would look like, I will leave you with a picture of his mommy and daddy. This is from my college graduation ceremony in May. If you look closely you can see the cross necklace I'm wearing. There is a very special story that goes with that necklace, which I will share soon.

Constant

In my soul there is a hole that can never be filled, but in my heart there is hope that you are with me still. ~ Precious Child

Change. I've never been a fan. I excel when I know what to expect. Still, there is a part of me that always wants more. I'm a dreamer, imagining a better life for myself and my family. I'm quite the walking contradiction.

I started a new job today. It seems alright so far. The people aren't mean and the work seems challenging without being overwhelming. It's an excellent opportunity with great benefits and room to advance. Still I dread going back to the point that I'm in tears. I don't dread the job or the people...I dread what starting this new job means.

I quit a job last Thursday. A job I had for a long time. A long time when you consider that I'm barely 25. I started that job as a naive 21 year old, living with my boyfriend, going to school part-time, not having any real sense of what I wanted out of life, and NEVER expecting to get pregnant or have a baby.

I grew up there. Brandon and I split up. I ventured out into the world on my own. I transformed--physically and mentally. Brandon and I got back together. I got engaged. I got pregnant. I got married. I lost friends and gained friends. I lost pets and got new ones. I watched my family move out of my childhood home. I started seriously working towards my bachelors degree. I learned about law, about business, and about being let down. I moved twice and got in several car accidents. I grieved the death of my baby with people who were as excited as me for him to be born. I made friends, real friends not just the happy hour co-worker-type.

Leaving there is like leaving a piece of myself. That place was the constant in my life when so many things were changing. No matter what was going on with my relationship, my pregnancy, my physical appearance, my grieving...I ALWAYS had that place. I always had those people.

A lot of people don't get it. They see me graduating and starting this new job as such positive things. They wonder how I can be so sad. Maybe they think I'm ungrateful or crazy or just negative. And maybe I am. Maybe I shouldn't get so attached to people or places the way that I do.

I guess the only way I can explain it is by saying this:

When you lose something that you love SO much and nothing in the world will bring it back again... when there is a hole in your heart and sometimes you don't know how you can make it day to day, having constants are important.

Early

It's hours before I need to be up, but I'm wide awake. I keep picturing you. I wonder what you would look like? Who would you be?


We're doing family photos tomorrow. At the park where I know you would have loved to play. Only they won't really be family photos because the entire family is not there. You're not there.

Daddy and I will hold a bear in place of you. We will smile and laugh, but inside our hearts will be heavy. It's odd to miss someone so much you only knew for a short time, but we do. We miss you so much that sometimes we cry. Sometimes we argue because we can't express how we are feeling in a better way. Sometimes we push the feelings down so we can go on with our day without the constant, gut-wrenching pain that will be with us forever.

I hope you know how important and how loved you are. Everything we do, we do for you. I'm finishing school next month and that's all because of you. I started when I knew you were coming, I persevered when you left and I will finish because that's what you would want and I want to make you proud.

I miss you so much, Caleb. I'm so sorry I failed you and I'm so sorry you're not here today. If I could trade my life for yours, I would in a second. I wish you could be here for family photos. I wish you could be a big cousin to Xander. I wish you could be there when I earn that degree that was inspired by you! I wish I could hold you, see you, kiss you, and hear you call me "mommy.”

Instead, I will hold a bear that doesn’t compare. I will look at the few pictures I have that will never be enough. I will kiss the little jar of ashes holding what's left. And I will lay awake at night and imagine what you would have become.

Bad Blogger

I'm such a bad blogger. I started this blog way back when to remember Caleb and to document our journey of love, loss, and trying to start a family. I thought writing about all of these things would give me an outlet to express my feelings instead of my typical SOP, which involves keeping everything inside and then eating an entire carton of ice cream. Hey, don't knock it til you try it.

But days and weeks pass without me posting. I have things I want to share. Doctor’s appointments, failed attempts, births, deaths, nightmares...but I don't. I need to though. I can feel the weight of so many things resting on my shoulders and I need to write about it.

I have this weird habit. I make lists. When things are bothering me I make a list of what they are and then I start with the first item and try to figure out a way to fix it. You'll find these little pieces of paper strewn about my house with things like weight, job, and haircut written on them. I guess all that to say I like to keep track of my feelings otherwise I feel like they will overtake me. Emotions are crazy and unpredictable (2 things I don't really care much for) and making those little lists and keeping this blog are the only things helping me to understand mine.

So I'll start here...
My sister had her baby.

I was in the delivery room when he was born. It was probably one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed. I don't like the expression that people use to describe this situation "I was there when his life began", because that's not true. A child's life begins at conception. Caleb was alive inside of me and just because he wasn't born alive, doesn't mean that his life never started.

Anyway, the birth was amazing and holding my nephew for the first time was unbelievable. My sister was in labor for a little over 12 hours before she started pushing. During that time, she had three different nurses check on her. The first 2 asked me if I had any children, so I told them about Caleb. I felt bad each time I brought him up, as if I was casting a gray cloud over my sister's exciting day. I decided after the second time to stop mentioning him.

When the third nurse asked me if I had any children I simply replied "no.” My sister, 10 cm dilated stopped the nurse and said, "That's not true. She has a son and his name is Caleb, but he passed away." I still get choked up thinking about that. I don't think my sister understood how much that meant to me. On the brink of giving birth to her baby, she stopped and remembered the one I'm missing so much. No gray clouds, just love.

Having a baby around (I have visited with him 10 out of his 12 days) has been an eye opening experience. It has definitely confirmed what Brandon and I already knew about our desire to have children. Before he was born, I thought my nephew would make me sad. I thought he would remind me of what I don't have. I was so wrong. Having him around reminds me of what I'm working for. The struggles that I face now are so insignificant compared to the joy that a baby will bring to our lives.

My wonderful husband, who usually doesn't have too much to say, summed it up best: "Nothing else will matter once we have our baby."

The Hospital

Continuing the story of Caleb


I was admitted to the hospital on Tuesday September 30th, 2008. We got there shortly before 8 p.m. We sat in the same registration room we had the night before when I was the only one that knew something was wrong. We walked down the same hallway. The nurse led us into a private room, away from all the happy mommies and babies. There was a card with a single yellow rose taped to the plaque on the wall with my room number. I didn’t have to ask. I knew.

I had just enough time to change into that terrible hospital gown before visitors started appearing. Brandon’s mom, my mom, and my grandma. Followed by Brandon’s aunt and uncle and finally my best friend Britney. Brandon’s Aunt Deena gave us a beautiful wall hanging with little children playing. An angel watched over the children.

The nurse came to get the IV started and go over my medical history. She asked if I took any medications. I told her pre-natal vitamins, only not every day because they make me throw up. Then I quickly asked her if she thought that’s why this happened. She reassured me that had nothing to do with it and suggested I take Flintstones vitamins next time.

They couldn’t get the IV in. My veins are not cooperative. I was jabbed 7 or 8 times by 2 different nurses. The visitors were distracting themselves by watching Dancing with the Stars, but Brandon was right there by my side. He looked at me with this look of sadness in his eyes. Like he wanted to just take me and run away. Away from this crazy situation that we were in. How did we ever end up here? So many years of thinking we couldn’t. Then we do. Only to not.

The nurses, still poking, suggested I look away. Singing has always comforted me so I started singing the first thing that popped in my head. “Five. Five dollar. Five dollar footlong.” Everyone laughed. Brandon’s look of helplessness faded into a smile. I had never loved him as much as I did right then.

Finally, after a few more jabs and jokes about using all my veins during my former life as a drug addict, the nurses were able to get the IV in and going. The nurse gave me my first pill to start the induction. An oral tablet, Cytotec, which I can still taste to this day. Battery acid choked down with a little bit of water. The tiny little pill kept getting stuck in the back of my throat and would dissolve before I could get it down. Every 4 hours the nurse would come in with one of those tiny packets containing that pill that tasted like battery acid and was supposed to make my body deliver my dead baby. I would have drunk real battery acid if it meant giving him life.

After a few hours, the visitors left. Just me and Brandon alone in the room. The first time we had really been alone in months. Just me and him. Him and me. I drifted off to sleep for a while.

The next day, Wednesday October 1st, revealed that my body wasn’t progressing. I wasn’t dilating and felt no contractions. They offered my pain medicine, though. I refused. What if they were wrong about him? There was still hope. How silly.

I had a few more visitors that day. My friend Mandi came up for a little while. It was hard for her. I could see it in her eyes. She knew and she remembered being where I was. For two girls who don’t usually shut-up, there wasn’t much to say.

Later that afternoon, I asked my nurse, Fran, how long my doctor would let me stay like this. I wasn’t progressing and they had started the induction nearly 20 hours ago. He was supposed to be here by now. She told me that there wasn’t much they could do since I wanted to see the baby. It wasn’t like they could “...go in and do a D&E”. Her words echoed in my head. Was I not supposed to want to see my baby? My doctor never offered an alternative to delivery. My heart hurt. I wanted out.

That night brought more visitors and  the doctor on duty. She did an exam and an ultrasound. Different this time because they didn’t bother turning the screen towards me. The doctor decided it was time to insert a balloon catheter. Before they did that, however, they would give me an epidural.

The epidural was done. As were both catheters. I fell asleep. A few hours later I woke up screaming. I couldn’t move and I was freezing. I started crying. “Why me? Why us? I just bought a stroller. God tricked me. Why? How could this happen?” The nurse looked scared. Brandon looked scared. But I couldn’t stop. I begged for them to let me move. “Take the epidural out. Please take it out. Give me blankets. Please, it’s so cold.” I had a fever and an infection. They called my doctor, who ordered antibiotics. I fell asleep.

I woke up early Thursday October 2nd. The nurse came in and told me that I couldn’t have any more water or popsicles. My doctor was doing a caesarean section later that afternoon. She started removing the balloon catheter that hadn’t worked. Or had it? As she pulled it out she realized it was time. She paged the doctor on duty and they came running. “Push. Just one good push.” I screamed again. “I don’t want to see him. Please don’t make me look.” And then it was over. Quiet. Painless. Sad. Nothing like I imagined.

They wrapped him up and let Brandon take a peek. They took him to a different room until my doctor could arrive. After what seemed like hours, my doctor finally came in and told me he didn’t see anything wrong with him. Nothing definite that would point to an obvious cause or reason. I asked if I could see him. He told me the nurse would bring him in shortly. I felt so horrible for ruining his morning. He looked like a shell of the usually upbeat person I would see during my check-ups. What had I done to create this huge mess?

Amazing

Help one another, is part of the religion of sisterhood. ~Louisa May Alcott

I don’t talk a lot about my faith to those who don’t know me. I feel that there is a certain type of people in this world who, as soon as you identify yourself as a Christian, immediately try to discredit you and your beliefs. By nature, I’m a pretty non-confrontational type person and I’m not good at quoting Scripture in response to Biblical questions people have. There are amazing, gifted people all over the world who are much better suited for ministry. That is not a gift God gave me.

I don’t deny Christ, however. When asked, I answer honestly and proudly. I try to lead a life that exemplifies the lessons Christ taught us. And I hold to those truths when faced with adversity or obstacles. But I feel the best way I can demonstrate God's amazing powers, is by sharing examples of the grace and love He has shown in my life.

For example, my younger sister is pregnant. 39 weeks today to be exact and my future nephew is ready to be born at any moment. And I am overjoyed to be an aunt. I threw my sister's baby shower, I went for the 3D/4D ultrasound, and I will be there every step of the way in the delivery room.

To fully understand how amazing this is, you have to first understand how hard it is for me to be around anything relating to babies, especially baby boys. Just the sight of baby shampoo can send me over the edge some days. Babies obviously remind me of the one that I lost, but they also remind me of the one that I am struggling to conceive. The fact that I can even acknowledge my sister is pregnant is, well, amazing to me!

But don't get me wrong. I don't do these amazing things on my own. I don't have that much strength. In fact, if it were left to me alone, I would still probably be sitting in that restaurant, as I was five minutes after she told me, crying my eyes out. Thankfully, I don't bare this burden alone. God has been with me every step of the way, giving me strength, hope, and courage. I feel like I yet again see another reason God gave me Caleb. Caleb helped prepare me to help prepare my sister for this baby. If that makes sense?

We don't always get to see the reasons why God does things. We aren't always given the peace of mind to understand the 'big picture'. But in this case, I can't help but stand back and be in awe of His work.

Valetine Schmalentine

Man does not control his own fate. The women in his life do that for him. ~ Groucho Marx

Brandon and I first "met" around Valentine's Day. We "met" online, which I know is so shocking to people for some reason, but when you consider the millions of other things people do online, I don't know why meeting a future boyfriend/girlfriend is such a faux pas.

Anyway, it was back in the days of AOL. Ya know, when you logged in it would say "You've Got Mail". Well for those of you that remember, there were also local chat rooms. You could find all kinds of different ones. I think it was kind of like an early Facebook or Myspace. It brought people together who shared a common interest or lived in the same area, etc.

So one night, I was logged on and in a local chat, but not really paying attention to the conversation. I want to say I was downloading songs from iTunes. All of a sudden an IM (remember those?) popped up and it said, "Lynyrd Skynyrd, huh?". The person IM'ing me was referencing the section on my profile which listed all of my musical likes. I was 18 at the time so there were A LOT!

I wrote back and said "Yea, I like them." The mystery person went on to tell me how when he was younger their dad took them to a Lynyrd Skynyrd concert and all he can remember is the heavy smell of incense in the air, which of course later in life he learned wasn't really incense at all!

We started chatting a little more and I discovered that the mystery person was really Brandon. He was 19 at the time and lived about 30 miles away, but actually grew up really close to where I did. We talked about music, movies, work, school...pretty much everything. We exchanged phone numbers, but I was too scared to call. Eventually he called me and we chatted a few times on the phone.

Fast forward a few weeks later, my friend Britney and I were out shopping and I decided it would be funny to go spy on Brandon at his job. Britney was always down for a covert mission so off we went. We spotted him in the nursery section of a local general store. Apparently, at that point in time I was fearless because I marched right up to him and said hi. I told him who I was and that my plan was just to spy on him, but then I decided that was kind of weird. He said he would be off in a few hours and asked if I wanted to hang out. When he got off work, we met up for dinner and basically have been inseparable ever since. In fact, since that day, I think the longest we have ever gone without talking was maybe 2 days.

This is the story of how I met my Valentine. I'n sure it's not the most storybook meeting that has ever taken place, but it's ours and I love it. Oh yea, and I love him.