I’ve been SO delayed in my posts letting everyone know that he was born by C-section 3 weeks early due to his risk of infection with his ureters, low amniotic fluid and the chance that he was going to be a big baby. He looked huge! and they thought he would have weighed more than he did at 7.7lbs. Gorgeous little mister and my life has been and is forever changed. I found a wonderful way to incorporate my sweet Deeton into brining his brother Dexton home. We chose Dexton because its in honor of his big brother with only one letter difference, but also sounds different too. Dexton will soon be 6 months old and the trouble has only begun….literally. We just found out that our perfectly healthy baby boy has Wiskott Aldridge syndrome. I’m not sure how much more bad I can handle in my life.
Today, I go to the doctor to start steroid injections. I’m terrified. Of Everything right now because its so different. I know that sounds crazy to some. To have your first pregnancy end in miscarriage at 7 weeks, then to get pregnant almost exactly a year later going 3 days past the due date to hear that your baby has died inside you and then to get pregnant again only a few short months later the first time you had sex with your husband since your son died….it’s almost too much. I know how to be pregnant, but only to lose a baby. I’m terrified of the steroids because its new and there’s a chance it could start labor. Labor scares me, because that’s when my son died-when my body started doing what it was supposed to for delivery of a baby. I’m afraid of bringing this baby home because I’m not sure how to deal with it. When Deeton was coming, I wasn’t scared of anything because I knew I could handle it. You’d think that with what we’ve gone through this last year, we could handle anything and nothing would scare me. Nothing should scare me really. But it does. I’m terrified. So, today, I’m trying to not be terrified, trying to get excited that this little one will actually make it because I’m so in love even though I’ve tried not to connect too much. I wake up yearning for this baby to make it, thanking he/she and God for kicking when I feel like I haven’t felt movement in awhile so it will ease my mind. Losing Deeton has changed my everything. Everything I once knew and was comfortable with is now so different. I just pray that this little one makes it until our early C-section at what is planned right now at around 37 weeks even though we haven’t set a ‘date’ because I fear it will make me be crazy! I know I’m already crazy enough without more worry, but those that have been in this situation, losing your baby changes your everything.
Today is hard. I mean, every single day is hard after losing your child, but today for some reason…it seems harder. Today, he would have been 11 months old and in one month, my baby would be a year old. I keep thinking about how I should be planning a birthday party, his first birthday party. Instead, the tombstone arrived yesterday and sometime when the ground isn’t frozen, we’ll be setting it into the ground. So, instead of cake, balloons, family and friends, we are left with a beautiful black stone engraved with his name and a picture of papa’s tractor on it reminding him and everyone else that he will always be Loved and Remembered Everyday. When I was just a baby, by grandpa sold a cow in my name to start a savings account. We sold a cow last week….to buy his tombstone with. It’s just SO hard knowing what should have been, what was planned for and now….
I miss my baby so much today. All I can see are dark eyes, and dark curls on his sweet little head. I imagine all these things and remind myself that he’s with Jesus and there’s no better place but yet, it doesn’t help this morning. I just wish my house was a mess from toys and things pulled off the tables from this little dark haired boy that I know is loved so much.
I’m trying to stay busy each day, but it wears me out. I’m a mess with tears each morning, pushing myself through the today to be the teacher my students need to be. And I am. I am there when they need me and I love all of them so much. It’s getting harder though as his first Halloween has passed, Thanksgiving and Christmas coming up. I had already dreamed of what these days would look like, the outfits he would wear and how much joy he would bring to our family. Life can be so hard sometimes.
If you pray, please pray that I keep what little faith I have left. I’ve had such a hard time praying and turning to God lately. I did it so much with him. I wasn’t worried, I knew things would work out just the way they were supposed to. I just think….this is how they were supposed to be…me broken forever. Feeling the same pain God did when his son died. Oh how strong our God is.
Momma loves you so much Deeton!
Today my husband came home from work stating that today makes 14 years that his father has been gone. His father died the year before we started dating and I never got to know him. I’ve heard many stories of this 6 feet 5 inch tall man, big dark beard and eyes that would slice you in two. Hearing Paul say that his dad had been gone for 14 years….. It sent me over the edge and I couldn’t handle it. All I could think about is that one day here very soon I will say that Deeton has been gone for a year. I can’t believe that the amount of time I knew I was pregnant with him is the amount of time that he has been gone. A lady at work asked me today if I was getting excited about this little one. “I’m trying now that I can feel him/her move around inside me”. Her response, “God always lets things happen for a reason and just pray”. As much as I love him, and believe in him, there are just times that I can’t help but still ask him why he took my baby and I just can’t pray. There just isn’t comfort in knowing that things happen for a reason when your child dies. People think times heals all wounds, it doesn’t….not really. You learn to live with the pain and put on a face when you go out in public because you can’t cry just because someone else has that healthy baby that you didn’t get, you can’t tell the lady who complains about her kids being on her last nerve that she’s so lucky to have her babies here with her, because you can’t stand to bring up that pain again today. I attached a photo of me tonight after I was able to finally move, to show people the pain 9 months later and the tears from missing this one’s big brother. My pants are stained with everything I have missed out in the 9 months he would have been alive, the deep pain I feel from missing out on so much. I just felt like the world needs to know…he will never be forgotten and the tears never stop-no matter how many children I have or how many years I’m still alive, tears will always be shed for my sweet baby boy that I only know through pictures and the love I felt for him while I carried him.
I drove by the cemetery tonight and looking at that little pinwheel lit up tonight, I broke down and have continued for an hour now. I’m still in disbelief and shock that I had a child, a beautiful baby boy over nine months ago and he never made it. That my baby is buried at the cemetery with his ‘night light’ on every night so he doesn’t get scared. I know how crazy that sounds, but I need that little light down there for him. It’s been a bit over 9 months now that he left, that I couldn’t keep him safe like I should have. I’m almost 5 months along with his sibling right now, and I’m even more of a mess. I don’t know how people do this more than once. I can’t lose this one, I can’t have two little babies buried together at the cemetery…just not fair. I pray that this one makes it and I get to enjoy a life with him/her. I miss my sweet little Deeton, his fat wrinkled hands, chubby little legs and dark head of hair. I miss that little chin that went in so far and reminded me so much of his daddy’s baby pictures. I break every time I think about him, knowing that he’s with Jesus makes me happy, but how I miss him so much here on Earth with me watching every milestone he would have been making. How I wish things had been different and how my heart is breaking tonight for my little man in heaven.
I know that’s how I should feel today because I’m pregnant. I know this is one hurdle some people can never accomplish; even with medical technology it never happens. But…I can’t feel excited because I know that no matter how long I’m pregnant, there’s no guarantee that he/she will make it here. There was no ‘hump’ for me to get over because I went 3 days past my due date with him. We are 4 months along and everything seems to be going smoothly. I catch myself getting a little excited when I’m almost positive I felt him/her move, but it quickly fades when I think that’s all I might get.
Paul found out the sex on Tuesday. I don’t want to know. I can’t know. I’m too afraid the more I know about this one, the more hurt I’ll be if something happens. I know how ridiculous that sounds and how you can’t help your feelings…but I’m trying because I’m scared. I’m scared that he/she won’t make it and I’ll be more broken than I’ve been in my life and won’t bounce back from it. I’m scared that he/she will make it and I won’t be able to get attached because I’ll be so scared that something will go wrong. I’m scared that breastfeeding will freak me out too much because its the emotional bond I never got with him. I’m waiting for constant movement so I’ll feel more at ease….at least I hope it will make me more at ease. Please continue to pray; for all those with pregnancy after loss so we don’t lose our minds.
Today I’ve sat here being a nervous wreck. I went into my classroom today to move a few things around. I thought this cabinet wasn’t heavy until it started falling and I immediately went to catch it. It strained me just a little. I kept on working because all was good. A few hours later when I went to the bathroom, there was pink on my toilet paper. So now, I sit here worried and crying because I’m scared. I knew I loved this baby, but was trying to put those thoughts out of my mind to protect myself. Now, all I can do is rub my belly and pray that he/she is okay. That God hears my cries this time and this 3rd pregnancy will result in a little healthy living baby. I saw my husband walk by mowing the yard and all I could think about is that this can’t end badly. The first pregnancy was a miscarriage at 7 weeks, we only knew for 10 days that we were going to be parents. The second pregnancy ended in Deeton making it 3 days past his due date, a son that the hospital would never let us meet. All I can see right now is that tiny little casket that sat over the hole of his grave. This time, I can’t lose this baby. I can’t be the woman that my husband gets pregnant three times and three times has let him down. How could a marriage survive that? How could a man want a son so bad and stay with the woman who hasn’t been able to give it to him 3 times now? I know he wouldn’t leave, we are in this marriage ’til death. We believe in our vows, but I can’t imagine a test any stronger than what we’ve already been through. I just ask for God to please watch over this little one, help him/her to grow and become a part of our lives in about 6 months so we can be parents to a living child. I ask for peace from God and strength to keep my faith because today, I feel so weak and the tears wont’ stop.
About 6 weeks after my son died, Humana (my insurance) called to ask me how I was enjoying being a first time mommy with my little one at home. I lost it with the lady. I yelled at her without really meaning to and now would apologize if given the chance. I complained about their lack of compassion and their lack of looking at my file on the screen because somewhere on that screen I KNOW it says my son didn’t make it! She apologized and said that it didn’t. I told her she was crazy, that my already processed bill showed that there was no prenatal care with a child. She proceeded to tell me that it wasn’t her fault and there was nothing on the screen that told her. I remember being very loud and responding in some way that she could call her manager and prevent this from happening to other people and I hung up. I just couldn’t someone making excuses about their computer system that my child died and they just didn’t know.
So, today I get a phone call from that same Humana company….congratulating me on my second pregnancy. I froze. I couldn’t speak for just a minute. Then, I realized I couldn’t handle anything this lady was going to say to me. I gave her a speech. My response was something like this:
I’m sorry, but I have no reason to speak to you at all. The last time I was pregnant, I was 7 months along before you all ever contacted me. Then, you didn’t contact again until after my son had died. Not that it would have mattered if you had said, Sorry for your loss. But your staff make excuses for their computer system not informing them that my son died. And the way you just spoke, nothing has been done since. I would like to talk to your manager. (I didn’t get to) I told this lady, 1 in 150 women lose a child and you all can’t come up with a button to show what happened. Her explanation was that it sometimes takes up to 6 weeks for that to come across their system. I said, NO…I don’t’ believe you because by 6 weeks I had already gotten a new bill from my hospital that you all had already paid your part. So, NO, I don’t believe your excuse. What I would like for you to do is speak to a supervisor, make a difference so this happens to nobody else. So that nobody else has to hear a cheerful voice on the other end about happy baby when your life is broken. By now my voice level was rising, the voice had become shaky so I told her I couldn’t refrain from being upset and asked her not to ever call me again because there was no guarantee this baby would make it.
After I told her that last part, my heart broke into a thousand pieces. This baby has to make it. I honestly don’t think my husband and I could make it if there’s not a different outcome this time. We’ve always had a strong relationship, but sometimes the stuff life throws at you just sucks any energy and effort you feel like you have left out of you and you just get tired of fighting for anything. It almost feels like nothing is worth fighting for. Right now, we’re okay. We’re nervous and have every right to be. I pray we make it, that this baby makes it, because I see myself sinking into a nothing if he or she doesn’t. I catch myself secretly getting excited sometimes, but it scares me SO much to think that I could get excited and the same outcome would happen. I don’t know how people survivor losing more than one child. Losing one was almost too much.
I guess the people who forget that you had a child are those people that aren’t that important in your life. My husband was at work the other day and his boss had been off for a month because they had a newborn baby. Congrats to him and the new life he now has! His boss came by to ask him how the job was going and then kind of starting fussing at Paul for the time it was taking to complete it. Paul brushed him off and told him that you can’t plan things and sometimes things take longer. Somehow, his boss ended up saying….”You know what its like when you’ve been gone for a month with a baby at home.” Needless to say, my redneck, broken husband, father without his son, lost it. And I don’t blame him! He said that he started yelling at his boss and asking him how he could —-forget that his son died, that he had no idea what it was like to be home for a month with a broken wife, a broken heart, nothing to hold onto, your life broken. Co-workers had to come between them because Paul just lost it. I’m so thankful that his co-workers blocked his truck and wouldn’t let him leave when he just wanted to escape the nightmare of that moment. If he had left, he might not have made it home safely that night. I need him home with me each night. I can’t see his boss being his friend, even though he considered them friends for so long. Does the world so quickly forget that you are broken, that the child you carried and loved for 9 months didn’t make it? That you didn’t still have to give birth, have a burial service or have your child cremated and that’s all the memories you are left with-the ones that stand out the most. That tiny little casket in the ground or the urn/necklace you wear with ashes. How the world so quickly forgets that you are broken. I can look at my husband and see that he is broken, how can others not see that? People have just recently started telling me that I look so much better. Did I look that bad? I think someone who lost their own life when their child died, should look broken. I have every right to look broken and not good. I feel even worse on the inside. I hurt for my husband today and the son we haven’t been able to celebrate all of these holidays with, we would have had his 1st Christmas, New Year’s, Mommy’s Birthday, Valentine’s Day, St. Patrick’s Day, Easter, Mother’s Day, Father’s Day, 4th of July….that’s right…every month has a holiday that should have been his first. And every holiday I have to think about what he would look like, what his development would be and how he would react to sounds, what his giggle would be like, how much hair he would have, would he at almost 7 months old doing that scoot crawl thing going backwards and smiling. It hurts so much to think about these things, yet they would have brought so much joy….now, its only tears. I pray the world never forgets about those we lost, because they have shaped the person we now are.
Today I think about how selfish I was when I wanted labor to happen on its own without medical intervention. I think about how if I had let them take him on the 13th, he would be 6 months old. I think my heart is breaking all over again today because the tears won’t stop falling. I’m so sorry to my husband, for not letting him have a Father’s Day with his son. He still can, but the cemetery isn’t what you want-the only place you get to be with your son. I miss him so much today. The tears won’t stop…a puddle is in the floor, my shirt is wet, the Kleenex are piling up….I miss him so much. My grandma told me that my papa wasn’t going to make it much longer. She said she couldn’t live without him and she wants to die too to be with him. I hate that at 33 years old, a first time mom, knows that no matter how much you think you can’t live without someone in your life, you learn to do so because you.don’t.have.a.choice! There is no other alternative I miss my son so much everyday, but today is so hard because I feel like I was selfish in wanted nature to take its course. If I hadn’t been, Deeton would be here smiling and playing in the floor, sitting up on his own, taking bites of everything I fix for supper. Life would be so different right now.