No Wind in My Sail

Today I saw an orthopedic surgeon about my thumb. The x-ray tec asked if I was pregnant. I wasn’t prepared for the question. Don’t know why not. I’ve always been asked before x-rays are taken. Nevertheless, I wasn’t prepared. Maybe because the tec should’ve read my chart. Nonetheless, it completely took the wind out of my sails and set the stage for the rest of the day. I was still holding back tears when the surgeon said I needed surgery to repair nerve and tendon damage. I couldn’t hold back any longer when she said she only performs surgery at Good Samaritan Hospital. With tears stemming down my face I told her “NO thank you. I will not have surgery”. I explained two months ago I lost my baby at that hospital and cannot go back. The doctor understood and offered a transfer to another surgeon.

Back at work, a co-worker (she works at a different office) asked if the little boy I was helping was my son. I said no. She then asked “you have two children right?”. I opened by mouth but no words came. My manager (who was standing next to her), responded “no she only has one”. NO, I have two children but sadly both are not in this world. I helped the boy and walked away.

Emotionally the day wasn’t going well. I dreaded policy council. I wondered, would people ask about my baby or did they know? At first, no one said anything to me. Avoided me like the plague. Toward the end, separately two staff offered their condolences. In this type of situation I’m not sure if it is better to ignore or not. It probably depended on how the rest of the day had gone. If I didn't have the previous situations this one might not have been so unpleasant. However, at that point in the day I already felt sad, the wind was already let out of my sail.

A Sign From Payton?

An emotional day, tonight is the last support group. I don’t know what to do after tonight. Who will understand what I’m going through? Who will I share Payton with? No one seems to remember we lost her two months ago. No one seems to care about her. People either don’t care or don’t say anything for fear I will cry. So what if I cry? Crying is what I do these days. Only group members understand. Only group members are normal. What am I going to do after tonight?

On the way to group I saw this pure white cloud in the sky among the colorful setting sun. The cloud resembled the profile of a baby sleeping on her back. The forehead, eyes, nose, mouth, chin, neck, stomach, and legs were outlined. The cloud lasted only seconds before disintegrating in the sky. Nevertheless, in those few seconds with tears streaming down my face, I felt peace. It was as if Payton was telling me “mommy don’t worry I’m fine and you will be too”.

Little Ray of Hope

The past couple of days have been extremely painful. Dustin’s grandfather’s funeral service was this week. While the death of his grandfather was sad, it felt fair. He lived a long life. He knew love, married, had children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. None of which Payton will ever know.

Friday we visited his grandmother. Tatum kept asking “where great-grandpa go?”. I couldn’t answer her. Daily (often multiple times a day), she asks “where baby go?”, “where mommy baby go?”, “where sister go?”, or “where Baby Pay go?”. The question comes at any moment during the day; playing, running outside, driving, eating dinner, taking a bath, any time. The timing is so random I have a hard time remaining on guard for the inevitable question. The answer is always the same; “Baby Payton is in Heaven with Jesus”. Tatum then asks “where Jes?”. She repeats, in her own words, “Baby Pay Jes house” and searches for her children’s Bible. Friday I couldn’t bring myself to tell her great-grandpa is also in Heaven with Jesus. The next day Dustin’s grandmother died. Again, it is sad to lose anyone (especially so soon after losing his grandfather), but it felt fair. She also lived a long life. She knew love, married, had children, grandchildren, and great-grandchild. All I can focus on is two months ago I lost my beautiful daughter, which is not fair. All I can feel is the pain of losing my child.

The little ray of hope was a neighbor found and returned the cat, which was missing for 6 weeks. The cat, despite being severely dehydrated and malnutritioned, will be fine. I am so grateful and relieved I don’t have to tell Tatum her cat has gone to Heaven to be with Jesus. It’s so important the cat (a cat I’m not particularly fond of) lives. It’s as if the cat represents all the loss our family has suffered. All the loss Tatum has suffered (even the loss she isn’t aware of). All the loss her two-year-old brain is trying to understand. Only, this time I have a chance to save her from the loss. I never had a chance to save Payton. But I have a chance to save the cat. To save Tatum from losing her dearly loved cat. Logically I know I cannot really save the cat. But emotionally I have to. I have to do anything and everything to save the cat’s life. I cannot bare it if the cat doesn’t live. Honestly, if the cat died it might be the final thing to send me over the edge.

"Doctor Fix"

My office had a snow day. No work, wahoo! I kept Tatum home with me. We had a wonderful day playing inside and out in the snow. Late in the afternoon, I took a few minutes to unload the dishwasher. I wasn’t paying attention; it’s the dishes a mindless task, right? I grabbed two glasses and turned to put them in the cabinet. I felt a pinch. I looked down to see blood covered the counter. I snatched a paper towel, wrapped it around my thumb, and waited for the bleeding to stop. After a few minutes, I looked at my thumb and instantly knew it wasn’t good. I grabbed Tatum, her diaper bag, her shoes, and my bag. Immediately after buckling Tatum into her seat I hear, “mommy me poopoo”. Great! I told her I’d change her after we saw the doctor. For the rest of the drive she repeatedly said, “doctor first then change poopo”, "doctor first then eat fries”, and “doctor first then eat cake”.

When I realized we weren’t going to be home in time for dinner I called Dustin. It was a difficult call for me to make. It was a difficult call for Dustin to receive. The last time I called Dustin from a doctors’ office was the day we learned Payton was no longer alive, exactly nine weeks ago today. Dustin came right over and took Tatum out of the room while I got stitches. We were both thinking of that day on the drive home. Thankfully, Tatum was there to distract. The entire way home she repeated, “mommy ouie, doctor fix”. I wish doctors could have fixed Payton. I wish doctors could fix our broken hearts.

Angry

I am SO ANGRY! Angry at Dustin, at my family's curse, even at God. How can He take babies from loving parents? Why do babies in my family die? My younger sister, Jody Lee died of SID. My nephew, Jaden died of a heart defect. Now my daughter has died due to a cord accident. Tomorrow Payton should be six-weeks-old. What I’d give to hold her, watch her sleep, listen to her breathing, feel her heart beating, and to see her smile. All I wanted is to hold both my girls.

Two Months Later

Two months ago, I learned Payton was no loner alive inside me. Today and tomorrow are extremely painful days. Selfishly I wish the learning and delivery fell on the same day. Many times, I’ve thought of my pregnancy and that day, the day our lives changed forever. I’ve thought of it but haven’t been able to put it on paper. One day, hopefully, before I forget the details I will get there. This morning Dustin’s grandfather died. Very sad. This afternoon, Dustin saw Angie’s baby, despite a day ago saying he didn’t know when or if he could. Today he did. I am so furious with him. Logically I know I’m being ridiculous. Still, I cannot help feeling angry with him. It feels like a complete betrayal of our daughter. I feel like he cares more about gaining his family’s approval than his own daughter. Not today. Any day but today, or tomorrow, or the eighth, or the 26th.

"I Will Carry You"

As I was leaving my client’s home her mother handed me a burned copy of "I Will Carry You". I listened on my way home. I cried through the entire song. Heart-wrenching but I felt like Payton wanted me to know she is ok.

"I Will Carry You"
by Selah

There were photographs I wanted to take
Things I wanted to show you
Sing sweet lullabies, wipe your teary eyes
Who could love you like this? People say that I am brave but I’m not
Truth is I’m barely hanging on
But there’s a greater story
Written long before me
Because He loves you like this

So I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All my life
And I will praise the One Who’s chosen me
To carry you

Such a short time
Such a long road
All this madness
But I know
That the silence
Has brought me to His voice
And He says…

I’ve shown her photographs of time beginning
Walked her through the parted seas
Angel lullabies, no more teary eyes
Who could love her like this?

I will carry you
While your heart beats here
Long beyond the empty cradle
Through the coming years
I will carry you
All your life
And I will praise the One Who’s chosen Me
To carry you

Children’s Innocence

Few people can empathize with losing a child. Some may sympathize but not empathize. I believe it’s because the mere thought of losing a child is too terrifying that most people cannot allow their self to think of it. I’m realizing how empathic and innocent children are in dealing with the grief of others. It amazes me children can empathize when most adults cannot. Today an eight-year-old client said, “Elainna I’m sorry about your baby. I’m sorry that the cord that gives her food, blood, and oxygen got tied up and she died. I’m sorry”, (obviously her mother explained what happened), followed by a big hug. Her younger sister asked, “did your baby have a name?”. Yes, her name is Payton Alexa. Both girls said, “that’s a pretty name”. It is a beautiful name. My client then said, “I have an Alexa in my class. She’s my friend”. It was simple, she told me the story I already knew but in her innocent childish words. I was extremely touched.

I’m also touched when Tatum will say, “momma cry”. Yes, sometimes mommies cry. “Momma sad”. Yes, sometimes mommies are sad. She always follows with a big hug.

Children don’t say “you’re young, you’ll have more”, “God needed an angle”, “everything happens for a reason”, “it will get easier”, or my least favorite, “be glad you still have a daughter at home” (yes someone actually said that to me). I appreciate when people simply say, “I’m so sorry” or “I know there is nothing I can say, just know I’m here”.

Something to smile about. Tonight after we prayed, Dustin asked Tater if she wanted to say anything else to Jesus. She responded, “yes. Eat, eat, eat peease. I like fries”; my hungry, hungry hippo. So cute. So innocent.

Surrounded

Babies surround me. Everywhere I go; work, church, post office, grocery store, department store (even in cold wet weather). I want to hibernate. Babies are everywhere. I cannot even get away from them in my own home.

Tuesday a high school friend called to ask how I’m holding up. She knew we lost Payton. She sent a condolence card. Anyway, she proceeded to tell me she might be pregnant but wasn’t sure what to do about “it”. “It” is a baby, a tiny person growing inside of her. How could she tell me that knowing I recently lost my child? A coworker/friend is also pregnant. She is (was) ten weeks behind me. We use to share pregnancy stories. Wednesday morning I received an invitation to her baby shower and an email explaining she understood if I couldn’t attend but didn’t want to exclude me. How thoughtful. I’m happy for her but don’t know if I can go.

On top of it all, I had to listen to Dustin after Angie called to complain how hard life was with a newborn; the lack of sleep and having to care for the baby while her husband was out of town. Really? We would love to have a newborn, our daughter keeping us up at night. I also listened to Dustin talk about how Angie is worried about the effects of her baby on their relationship. Really? Now she is worried? In the five years Dustin and I have been together, Angie hasn’t been involved in his or Tatum's life much, except for the occasional holiday. So really? How can their relationship suffer too much? I’m done hearing about Angie.

Funny thing, today I cried through the entire church service. As we were leaving a woman walked up to me and said, “I don’t know what is going on but can I pray for you?”. I smiled and answered yes. If strangers are asking to pray for me I must look more of a mess than I realized.

Goals

First day back to work. I cried the whole drive. I kept thinking why am I returning today? Exactly one month from the day Payton should have been born. My brain kept screaming she should be one month today. I should be exhausted from nighttime feedings. I should smell like baby spit up. I almost turned around. I just wanted to go home and stay in bed. In the end, I made it through the day. It was hard to see everyone, with their sympathetic half smiles. Hearing “glad to see you” or asking “how are you”. Honestly, I’m not glad to see any of them. I should be on maternity leave. How am I? My heart is broken. I am completely devastated that is how I am. Knowing that wasn’t what people want to hear, I answered, “ok” or “doing as good as I can”, whatever that means.

I spent most of the day locked in my office thinking of the group homework. In addition to journaling and reading articles, we had to identify goals. Goals? When I think of goals I think something one aims or desires to achieve. My only desire is to hold Payton in my arms. That not happening, I don’t have goals. How can I? Having goals involves looking toward the future. I cannot think of the future right now. My future included my daughter Payton. I’m struggling to make it through each day.

Numb

It’s been six weeks since we lost Payton. I feel numb. I cannot seem to produce a single tear. What does this mean? Did I wasted nine months being sick, in pain, irritable, and a horrible mother and wife? Shouldn’t I move on? Return to being happy. Enjoy not being pregnant or nursing (first time in nearly three years). Be a better mother. This is exactly what everyone thinks I should do. But how? How do I just forget my child? I cannot! It seems everyone else has forgotten her. No one called or stopped by to see how we’re doing just six weeks after losing our beloved daughter. It seems everyone believes since the funeral is over so is our grieving. Everyone acts as if the allotted grieving time is based on the number of years a child has lived. Everyone that is, except those who lost a child during pregnancy. They understand that Payton was already alive, already my child. Payton only lived in my womb but she was already apart of our family and our life.

Bad Mother

I’m a bad mother. I’m a bad wife. Dustin and Tatum would be better off without me (no I am not suicidal). They both need and deserve a happy, kind, caring, and loving woman. A woman able to meet their needs. A woman who, if she knows she isn’t a good mother or wife, is at least able to improve. That woman isn’t me. It would be best if Dustin and I divorced. It would be best if Dustin remarried a good wife and stepmother. A woman without my medical history. A woman who didn’t have small placentas. A woman who didn’t give birth to low weight, low glucose level Tatum. A woman who didn’t deliver dead Payton. A woman whose body didn’t harm or kill her babies. A woman who had healthy babies (boys) for Dustin and siblings for Tatum. This is the woman Dustin should marry. This is the woman who should be Tatum’s stepmother.

This is brought on by feeling suspicious of Dustin. I don’t believe he is being completely honest with me about the cause of Payton’s death. Cord accident he said. I think he wants me to feel better. He doesn’t want me to feel responsible for her death. But I AM responsible. I wasn’t a good mother to her. All I had to do was keep her safe, eat/ drink right, take the medications, talk to her, and love her. I failed her. I occasionally drank Pepsi; I knew I shouldn’t but I did. Once I forgot to take the shot. I didn’t talk to her as much as when Tatum was in my womb. I didn’t keep her safe. Her death is my fault. I killed my baby, not intentionally. I would never intentionally harm her but the outcome is the same. I am responsible for Payton’s death. My body killed her. I killed her. I just hope she knew I loved her. Knows I love her. Knows I will always love her.

Rant

As I’m new to this journaling, I’m not sure how to begin but journaling is part of the group homework. I don’t claim to be the best student but do want to get the most out of this group, even if that means homework. We were also given articles to read, so why not start there. This might turn out to read more like a collection of article reviews than a journal, oh well it’s a start. As I read “Father’s Entries Range from Scientific to Poignant”, I felt sad to think of all the things Payton would never do. I felt guilty because if not for the group I wouldn’t be writing, even if she were alive. I also felt guilty for not writing about Tatum’s first two years. Ironically, now I will write about the most heart-wrenching pain ever felt, with the loss of my beautiful daughter, Payton and the joys and challenges of life with my spirited/ feisty beautiful two-year-old daughter, Tatum.

I’ll write of Tatum telling me “shut up” (which she did recently). Hello, whom did she learn that from? Or when not satisfied with her cereal choice, told me “hurry up mommy” because the toast was taking to long (again this was recent). I wasn’t surprised she was impatient or demanding but surprised because I’d never heard her utter those words and in the correct context. Or tonight during bath, out of nowhere she made a simple request, “next time buy cake peease”. Bath and cake? I don’t see the correlation.

Later I sat questioning, how did this happen? Why did this happen? I don’t understand how/why we lost our baby. I’m not even certain the correct question to ask; how or why. Why the parents in our group? Why not other parents? Why does Britney and Angie get to hold their baby?

I’m struggling not to hate Angie. I’m so angry with how insensitive Angie, Dustin’s sister and unfortunately therefore my sister-in-law has been. There are too many situations following Payton’s death, which I cannot forget, possibly not forgive. Beginning when she brought Tatum home. Tatum stayed at Angie’s house while Dustin and I were at the hospital delivering Payton. Angie said her sons, Clayton and Jack loved having Tatum over and asked if they could keep her Until Their Baby Was Born. Might be cute for kids to say but not for a pregnant woman to repeat to a woman who just lost her baby. I didn’t need a reminder that her baby was still alive inside of her. Nor did I need to hear that my living child was only good as a substitute until their better baby was born. Then the night at dinner when she went on and on about how active her baby was in-utero, this a week after I lost mine. I’m also angry for the things she has done and said to Dustin. She sent Dustin a text the day her baby was born (exactly one month after we buried our daughter) stating how easy the labor was. Then she called Dustin, after her baby had to be resuscitated, saying she understood what we were going through. Really? How could she understand when she cannot even be sympathetic? Not to mention her baby is still alive, we lost our daughter forever! We will never see Payton’s face, never see her smile, never hear her laughter, never hold her; at least not on this earth. Angie also sent Dustin a text asking for her baby pictures to compare herself as a baby to that of her new baby. Why ask for the pictures now, after we recently lost our daughter and their grandparents are in the hospital? The pictures have been in our house for three years. How can she be so clueless, so thoughtless, so selfish, so self-centered? I don’t know if I can ever forgive her. Angie and I were never close. Probably never would have been. Certainly, will never be now.

Solace Group

Tonight was the first session of a five-week Solace Support Group. The group is for parents who lost a child during pregnancy or delivery. All day I dreaded attending the group. Dreaded sharing our story. Sure enough, Dustin and I, separately had to tell "your story". My short, condensed version: Dustin and I were expecting our second daughter. I went to a regularly scheduled 36-week prenatal appointment. My doctor was unable to find a heartbeat on the Doppler. She wheeled in the sonogram cart. Still no heartbeat, my daughter was dead. I called Dustin at work. He came right over. My doctor gave us the option of delivering that night or waiting until the next morning. We agreed prolonging would only hurt more; it wouldn’t bring our daughter back. We arrived at the hospital at 6:30 pm. I was given an epidural and labor was induced. At 2:24 am on January 21, 2010, our lovely Payton Alexa was born silent.

Each couple told their story. Initially, I felt comforted we were not alone and heartbroken others also suffered the tragic loss of their baby. However, I’m not sure if this group will be helpful or not. When we left I felt angry with other women already talking about having another child. What? Are they trying to replace their child? A child cannot be replaced like an old toothbrush. As the night went on (early morning- just another sleepless night), I realized everyone has different reactions to grief. Some people might be quick to have another child. Mine- I don’t know if I will ever have another child. I also realized each couple lost their child at different times. Dustin and I lost Payton the most recent, five-and-half-weeks ago. Maybe it's also different because we have an older child. Good lesson in not being quick to judge or react!