Looking Forward

The future is scary. Tomorrow marks two weeks since my water broke and since my son died. It almost feels like it happened forever ago, but at the same time I still can't believe it ever happened. I feel like I'm at a point where I don't know how to feel. On one hand, I want to be happy and plan for the future and get a job. On the other, I still want to be sad and sit around and cry.

I should have been 20 weeks along today. I wonder if I'm going to think about that every Thursday. Maybe after his due date (February 26th) it will stop. Maybe I'll be pregnant again. It almost seems too strange to think about that.

His pictures still make me cry. I'm almost worried for the day that I look at them and I don't cry. I want to remember him. I don't ever want to forget.

I've started individual counseling and group counseling. I always feel more upbeat after these sessions (which are both, incidentally, on Thursdays) but almost hollow? Like I've just shared a bunch of information and it feels great to get the weight off of my chest, but it also left a hole in my chest. After my counseling appointment today I felt like I was in a fog. I couldn't think straight and I felt like I really needed to take a nap. Maybe it's just being emotionally exhausted.

I don't really have much else to say. I know I have more life to look forward to. I just wish this part wasn't so confusing and sad.

My Favorite Birthday

As most of you know, yesterday was my birthday. I've had 22 of them so far, and while I'm thankful for all the birthday wishes I received, yesterday was my least favorite. The only thing I truly wanted was my baby boy. But I wanted to write about my absolute favorite birthday. My 18th birthday.

Pretty much all of you know I was a huge band nerd, and very proud of it. It was seriously my favorite thing in the world. Some of us loved it so much that we ate lunch in the band room. Well, more specifically, Mr. Webb's office, because absolutely no food was allowed in the band room...Anyways, I remember I was walking to eat lunch in Mr. Webb's office when I was stopped by my good friend Alyson. She wouldn't let me in! She said that something wasn't ready yet. So I had to take a walk until she let me in.

When I came in, I saw that a bunch of people in the clarinet section had decorated my chair and almost everybody gave me a reed! I know that doesn't sound huge or anything, but I seriously never had extra reeds and I always went through them so quickly. I was always asking if someone had an extra. It was just really thoughtful. And they had decorated my chair with balloons and ribbon and confetti. I think that Mr. Webb's gift to me was letting me keep my chair decorated during band class that day, even when it got distracting...

And then after marching band practice that night, me and like 6 friends went to a VeggieTales Live concert. I still have the T-shirt.

I think what I loved most about that birthday was how thoughtful everyone was. I love getting gifts, but I can tell when someone wasn't really thinking about what I would specifically want or like. When someone takes time out of their day to plan something out or sees something and thinks "Wow, Sarah would love that", I just feel so loved. I think that's what birthdays are for. Celebrating ordinary people and showing them how much we love them.

So even though this past birthday wasn't very good, I will always remember my 18th birthday and smile and remember that I'm loved and cared about.

Depression vs. Grief

I was diagnosed with clinical depression when I was 13, though I remember feeling symptoms as early as age 10. I've mostly treated it with counselling and medication until I became pregnant. Then I weaned off my medication (even though it's considered safe for pregnancy) because I didn't want to cause my child more problems than they may already have.

So, for my entire pregnancy, I was very depressed. I know what those feelings are. Not wanting to get out of bed, not seeing the point of doing day-to-day activities, always having a heavy feeling in my heart. It's how it feels when you're wearing a heavy coat, but the weather is much too warm. A smothering feeling of sadness that comes and goes but never really leaves for good.

And then there's grief. Grief is a completely normal but painful process that pretty much everyone will experience at one time or another in their lives. It's missing who you've lost. Thinking about that person and wanting them back more than anything else in the world. Being angry and upset. Sometimes it's hard to see the difference between depression and grief.

Grief is when I look at the pictures of my son and weep. Depression is waking up every morning and wondering why I have to live another day without him.

Grief is looking at my belly and wishing that it had all been a bad dream. Depression is the little voice telling me "Why am I even eating? There's nothing in there to feed and take care of."

Grief is sleeping with my son's blanket and teddy bear at night. Depression is dreading going to bed every night knowing I have another day ahead of me that will be just as hard as the last.

This is just something that's been on my mind lately; I'm obviously not an expert. It just feels good to sort these things out in front of me.

The Hole in my Heart

It almost seems like things are back to "normal". The memorial service is over, parents are going back home, I even went to church today. I watched TV, ate dinner. Perfectly normal things to do. But when I look down at my belly, or look up at the shelf with all his pictures, I know I will never feel normal again. A week ago I was giving birth to my dead child. That's the farthest thing from "happy" or "normal" I can think of.

My heart feels so empty. I feel my grief come in waves during the day. Sometimes it almost feels like I'm happy again, but it doesn't last for long. Night time always brings everything back the pain.

This week was hard, but I almost think that this next week will be harder. I have an appointment with the midwife tomorrow to make sure there's no infection. My birthday is on Tuesday. People want to meet up and hang out. That's all great, but I guess that they're all unwanted signs that my life must go on without Matthew Paul. All I truly want is my baby back.

I know we want to try for another baby. And I honestly don't want to wait long to start trying. But I'm also terrified that I'll have to go through this all again. Not just miscarrying, but bleeding for weeks, never knowing if today is the day that I lose my baby. I just can't take it all again.

I can't say that I don't have a great support system, though. My mom and my husband have been so helpful, even when there's nothing they can really do. Mostly I just cry and they pat my head or hug me. But I guess that's all I need right now. Matt repeats 1 Thessalonians 4:13 to me constantly. " But we do not want you to be uninformed, brothers, about those who are asleep, that you may not grieve as others do who have no hope." 

That's all I can hold on to. 

In Memoriam

Today was Matthew Paul's memorial service. I want to thank everyone who came. It was very nice to see friends and family come to support us.

At the service, I read a letter I wrote to Matthew. I would like to share it with you all here.

"To my beautiful son-

   When we found out we were pregnant with you, I was so scared. Scared about how my life would change, but mostly scared about if I would be a good mother. These fears seem so far away now.

   

   Even though we could not keep you for long, we love you so much. We were so excited to raise you, see your first steps, read you bedtime stories, and so much more. We don't know why God decided it was time for you to go to Heaven, but I know that you are much happier there than you would be here. We take comfort in knowing that, no matter how much I want you in my arms, that you are far more loved and cared for in the arms of our Father.

   Please know that if I could have done anything to save you, I would have. I would have taken any medicine, had any surgery, or have done anything the doctor said if it meant I could hold you in my arms again. You are such a precious child and your Mommy and Daddy miss you and think of you every day. You will never be forgotten. 

   We thank God you were in our lives, even for such a short time. We would never trade that time for anything else in the world. We love you, Matthew Paul and our hearts ache for the day we will hold you in our arms again."

One Week

My son died a week ago today. Well, technically I'm a few minutes late, but it has been on my mind all day. I don't know the exact time he died, but by noon there was no heartbeat.

I have loved having visitors and I even went out and got a pedicure today (thanks to Amanda Minnie!). But at the end of each day I still have a Matthew-sized hole in my heart that will never be filled by anyone else. As I go through his pictures my heart still aches for my son. I clutch his blanket and teddy bear as tight as I can and weep. No matter how good the day is, the night always brings sadness and tears.

Tomorrow (October 4th) is my baby's memorial service. It will be at 5pm at Redeeming Grace Baptist Church. I would be honored to have any of you come.

Baby Pictures

The nurses and midwives at Virginia Baptist Hospital were so kind to me during this time. Some of them had also lost their babies. Their kind words and prayers were invaluable to me in the middle of my suffering.

The best gifts of all, though, were the beautiful pictures they took of my son. I want to share them with you all. Now, he hadn't developed all the layers of skin, so he is very red. Otherwise, he is a completely normal, beautiful baby. I don't want to upset anyone with these photos, because that's not what they're for. They're to remember a sweet baby boy whose life was much too short.

These are some of my favorites:

I hope that these are as beautiful to you as they are to me. He was my precious baby boy and I will never forget him.

Phantom Kicks

There are so many painful emotions raging inside me. Every time I wake up I remember. It wasn't just a bad dream. This is my life and it's honestly horrible right now.

I think about eating. When you're pregnant, everything you eat is so important. All those nutrients fuel the growth of your baby. Now I just feel like it's pointless. My husband reminds me to eat but in my head I'm thinking "For what? My baby is gone." I only feel like eating when I get so hungry I can't take it anymore.

I dread going to sleep. So many things I couldn't control happened in my sleep. When I would bleed, I would usually wake up covered in it. My water broke in my sleep. My precious son was born while I was sleeping. Sleep is terrifying.

My milk has started to come in. I'm doing everything I can to stop it but no matter how many cabbage leaves I put on myself, I'm stuck with the physical and emotional pain that comes with it. This was meant to feed my son. To help him grow.

I think the absolute worst thing is the phantom kicks. Or in my case, phantom flutters. I was never able to feel a strong kick. I wasn't far along enough. But I would feel these small flutters in my abdomen. I always got so excited and happy when they came. My husband would put his hand on my belly and try to feel them, though he was never able to. I wasn't far along enough yet. Now I get these flutters from time to time and my heart breaks every time. I read that a lot of women who lose their babies feel phantom kicks. I honestly don't know why they happen. It's cruel. It briefly sends me back to that hopeful time, only to remember immediately that there is no baby to cause the flutters.

I've loved seeing everyone who has visited me, though it's been getting exhausting. My husband has to go back to work on Thursday and I have no idea what I'm going to do. I'm very much in deep mourning and I'm scared.