2011 WTR

This year the weather was cold and rainy for Walk To Remember. Many people decided not to attend or to leave early. As Dustin put it, "We weren't given a choice of losing our daughter. We are given a choice to honor and remember her". I couldn't have said it better. We battled the elements, bundling up in layers, jackets, hats, gloves, and ponchos. Thank you, Grandma Sue and Aunt Suzy for toughing it out along side us.

It was, as expected, an emotional and beautiful event. Listening to others stories brought up many old feelings: blissful ignorance (how I miss you!), happiness, anticipation, confusion, brokenheartedness, devastation, defeat, sadness, anger, frustration, detachment, hopelessness, loneliness.

After the walk Brooklyn's M.C. Pizza offered 50% of sales to benefit WTR. A local (not a chain) dive restaurant, good food, not having to cook, and benefiting WTR I couldn't resist. We filled our bellies with cheesy garlic bread and calzones. For dinner we took home eat eggplant pizza and cannoli. All of the food was delicious. Tatum thought the sauce was so good she drank it.

Dustin and I are careful what we say in Tatum's presence so we were surprised on the way home when she told us "We lost Payton. She has wings in Heaven. Everyone has wings in Heaven. They can fly all around". Dustin asked how she knew Payton had wings. She answered, "She told me".

Cold, wet, and emotionally drained we spent the rest of the day snugging in bed watching movies. As is every day, Payton was in our thoughts.

Stuff

As a therapist I often receive fliers announcing upcoming training opportunities. Recently (and for the first time ever) I received a flyer for a pregnancy and infant loss conference. There are many co-workers and associates I feel need to be aware of the conference and a few I feel need to attend. Therefore I forwarded the flyer on. I'm not surprised but disappointed by the lack of response. The person who should absolutely attend replied she would pass along the flyer. Don't get me wrong that is great. The more people who know about the conference the better, but she dismissed herself attending even thought she works with pregnant women and wasn't the most compassionate after I lost Payton. Again I'm not surprised but disappointed.

On a side note. My old perinatologist is speaking at the conference on physician and relationship based care. I find this ironic as he was the one who didn't notice signs of concern during my pregnancy with Payton (i.e: first child was low birth weight, my low weight gain, and Payton's small size). He was also the one more concerned about covering his own bum than giving us answers after her death. Not exactly what I would consider relationship based care.

Today I registered for Walk to Remember. Sadly look forward to remembering our babies with other bereaved parents. Yet, I'm a little hesitant. I understand people cope in the best way they are able. Still, I have a hard time being around smug pregnant women or smug new parents. I don't know how to describe the difference between smug vs. happy, but there is a difference! Maybe I'm overly sensitive but WTR is not the time to show off your pregnant belly or infant. It is a time to remember and honor the baby you didn't get to keep. There are a few people I'm dreading seeing.

Change Of Plans

After the last post, life threw me a curve ball. The evening of the 19th I was in a car accident. I was hysterical, to put it mildly, and taken to the ER. The paramedics attempted not to take me to the hospital where I delivered Payton. Yet, due to the location of the accident and traffic that is where I found myself. I was only in the ER (not the maternity unit) but forced to return 'to the scene'. As I lay in the exam room my mind was flooded with memories of delivering Payton and of holding her in my arms. In a weird way I guess it was okay- I survived.

I'm thankful to the people who helped. I'm still angry at the adults in the other car. As a parent who lost a baby, I'm angry two adults put six children in a car without seatbelts. I try not to be bitter that people who make irresponsible decisions as to the safety of their children are able to have children; while so many BLM's are living without babies. BTW, I am fine and believe all the other parties are fine too, thank you Lord.

The ironic part is before I left work I was reading an article which stated some unfortunate events in our lives are God’s way of waking us up (I'm simplifying). Later that night I wondered what God wanted me to pay attention to? I still don't know. I only hope the other people pay more attention to the care and safety of their children.

Needless to say, in the end we didn’t go to the Sand Dunes. On the 21st we went to Payton's gravesite. We survived 18 months. Yet, I still cannot stop thinking how different our lives should be, what Payton would be like, what would she look like, or a million other questions. I wonder do we ever stop thinking of the should be's or the what if's?

A Mess, A Complete Mess

With the 20th & 21st fast approaching I have been a complete mess. 18 months is turning me into an emotional wreck- again. And the external reminders don't help. Last week I wept in the bank (luckily I rarely go to the bank) when I read the male teller's name tag- Payton. I'm sure all the tellers and customers were wondering about my emotional stability, or should I say instability. Saturday we took our British house guest to a local water park. In the children's area was a toddler, she looked to be about 18 or so months, playing in the water with her parents. The little girl's name was Payton. I stood staring at her, crying and thinking I wonder if my Payton would have enjoyed the water. I thought about all the things their Payton would experience that my Payton wouldn't. Ahh! Why do situations like this happen? It's like a knife to the heart. Actually, a knife to the heart would hurt less. Twice in one week I saw/heard the name Payton. It's not an unusually name but definitely not extremely common.

For the most part I've been trying to stay busy; entertaining our guest, planning a weekend trip, and a party. Not sure if it is healthy or not? At times it seems as if I'm just avoiding feeling anything, which only leads to meltdowns at banks or water parks. Either way, Thursday we are taking a trip to the Sand Dunes. I'm not sure if it's a good idea or a really bad one? I know where ever I am, home or in southern CO, I'll be missing Payton and thinking how I wish she was with us. I also know in my real world no one (other than my husband and Tatum) will give Payton a moments thought, which makes me sadder and angry.

MIA

It's been over three months since I last wrote. Cannot believe so much time has past! Life has been busy. I haven't had time to write. Okay, that is a half truth. Yes, life has been busy but I haven't allowed myself time to process. Here's an update...

Holidays came and went. Father's Day was particularly hard for me. Every year we go camping. This would have been Payton's second time, but her first enjoying it. There is something so sweet about watching a father excitedly teach his daughter. (Probably the same about a father and his son. I just don't have a son). My heart hurts knowing I will never see Dustin teach Payton to fish. I don't even like fishing or camping.

Although Dustin and I were never going to be emotionally ready, we took down Payton's room for Tatum's sake. Tatum began making statements like; "Baby Payton come have a sleepover", "Sometimes Baby Payton can sleep in her crib", and "I share my bathroom with Baby Payton". We knew she was trying to make sense of life/death and we weren't helping. One day, Dustin and I went through and packed Payton's things while Tatum was at daycare. When Tatum came home we all took apart Payton's crib, painted her room, and moved the computer in. Taking down Payton's room was the most painful step to date. Her delivery, funeral, and due date occurred during the shock phrase- thankfully. Even picking out her grave marker wasn't as hard. Dismantling her bedroom made her life seem more like a dream. And while organizing the 'office' Tatum and I came across a picture of Payton's feet. Tatum said, "Picture of Baby Payton's feet. Where picture of her face? I didn't get hold Baby Payton". Tears! All we have is a picture of her feet. No memories of Payton's childhood. No memories of sisterly giggles or hugs.

Since my husband lost his job I've been doing contract work. While I am thankful for the opportunity I don't know how people work full time (or how I use to). I come home physically and emotionally exhausted. During many contract intakes I listen and document information about a child's birth. Many include stories of complicated births or are similar to Payton's, the cord was wrapped around her. The only difference is these children lived but Payton died. It is painful knowing God allows children from abusive or substance abusing families to live but not my child. I don't understand and I know I will never understand. Yet, it isn't easier.

My husband received a job offer from a local school district. The job starts in August. Yay, health insurance for he and Tatum once again!

I participated and completed Anchored By Hope's on-line Bible study. Sad, emotional, yet helpful. Very helpful! To share face-to-face (sorta) thoughts, feelings, and scripture with amazing women each week was therapeutic. Honestly, it was more helpful than meeting with a therapist.

Half way through the study, after an emotional yet uplifting meeting, I walked downstairs to find Tatum carrying the whiteboard. She saw me and yelled, "Look Mommy, look I write Baby Payton's letter. I write P for Baby Payton". She was so proud she wrote her sister's letter. I still have no idea how she taught herself to write 'p'. It was so bittersweet.

 

We had family photos taken, minus Payton. It was something I felt we Needed to do, not something I Wanted to do. When it comes to family matters I do what I need rather than what I want (Payton's bedroom and camping). Life without my child is suppose to get easier. I keep waiting. I'm beginning to believe life doesn't get easier, instead life gets too busy to process each event. I am proud of myself for holding it together during the shoot, if only because of mascara. But as soon as the car door closed I wept. Our family will always be missing Payton. Every family photo will always be missing Payton. I am glad we included the sheep. The sheep was a gift for Payton. We gave it to Tatum to help when missing her sister. Tatum takes the sheep everywhere. The photographer is amazing. The pictures are awesome. Yet, the photos make me sad.

We planted and tended to Payton's flower garden and our vegetable garden. Seeing Payton's flower's, especially the Forget-Me-Nots warms my soul.

In April a friend's son asked if he could come live with us. We agreed and prepared for life with a teen-aged boy. However, his move was postponed for a month, than another, and now? Possibly August? It's disappointing. 

This week we prepare to host a British soccer coach for a week. Also, I'm planning a surprise party for my mom.

I believe that is it.

Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope

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Faithful Friday

At times it feels like I'm just waiting for the next shoe to drop. Yet, I'm always looking for a sign, no matter how small, to have faith and be patient. Patience is not a strength I possess.

Friday afternoon I past a familiar digital billboard at a church near work.

A sign! I'm not necessarily taking the sign to mean what it does to the baby loss community- another child. Rather, life will be okay, have faith, be patient. I felt peace upon seeing.