My Birthday

It was my birthday and we decided to go to Disneyland for the day since it is most likely going to be a good day if you are at the happiest place on earth right?  It started out pretty good.  Kind of felt like life before disaster struck for a few hours at least.  Not that I didn’t think about Logan every minute of those few hours.  He never leaves my mind.  My mind is always on double task because I am living my life and every interaction, conversation, etc with people he is always right there.  I see his face, smell the hospital, see his little hand, everything.

I was standing by a fountain waiting for my husband and a family was taking pictures of their three kids in front of it.  I heard them say, “Logan, move over a little to the right”.  And it begins…..I knew it would happen but a little surprised that it was so soon.  Then more and more Logan connections happened throughout the day.  I was wondering, “Ok, is this because his name is so popular?  Or is it because he is really around and it’s a sign?  It doesn’t even matter why but it immediately put me in the sad place. I have learned that when that happens I have to feel it out until is passes.  That’s the only way for me to get through it.  No fighting it.  It doesn’t help when people tell me not to be sad.  It won’t work, sorry if you wanted it to.  I just felt like he should be with us today and chillin in his stroller smiling at the people walking by with his cute little baby eyes looking around.

Everyone says to have a happy birthday.  But I have to say it is really strange, confusing, and uncomfortable to be celebrating my birthday and trying to be happy when my son is dead and didn’t even get to celebrate his.  I feel a little guilty.  I am just to the point now, sometimes I just tell people what they want to hear.  It was a good day and leave it at that.  But, honestly it was very disturbing and unsettling.  Hopefully next year it will be better but I am not counting on it.  I don’t want to have expectations and be let down.  I wish people would understand that the sadness and grief doesn’t go away.  It will soften, but it never goes away so please don’t expect it to.  

I am really glad the day is over actually.  It's like a build up of exhausting emotions.  I have his first birthday coming up soon so all of this stuff is on my mind ten fold.  I just want to get through it............

My Story

Today has been nine months since my son died.  I realized I hadn't shared my story yet so here it is......

I was admitted to hospital at 24 weeks from Pregnancy Induced Hypertension (PIH) and Intrauterine Growth Restriction (IUGR) straight from a doctor’s appointment to monitor my blood pressure.  There weren’t any rooms for me so I waited in this tiny little room with a tiny little TV watching the cooking channel.  I thought I was going to explode from anxiety.  The nurses are the only positive part of this disaster.  The ones there that night were SO sweet and made me feel a little less scared.  Once they found a room for me they placed me with another girl who spoke not an ounce of English.  Poor girl had to basically hear me cry ALL night long.  I thought I was going to be sent home but we found out through blood tests that my liver enzymes were elevated.  I was told at that point that I was being admitted and wasn’t going anywhere.  They put me on bed rest and told me if the liver keeps going that way, they will have to take my baby and he won’t make it.  The next day they moved me to my own room since I was going to be an extended stay, I’m sure my neighbor was happy because she wouldn’t have to hear “crying lady next door” anymore. As the days went on, my liver improved and stabilized, however my blood pressure took a bit longer.   I was on several medications to help with the blood flow to the baby as I was told it was the last resort to get the nutrients through to him as he kept falling further and further behind the growing scale. I tried to eat lots of protein, I drank protein shakes at night after dinner to try to help my little guy.  I felt him moving a lot (or what I thought was a lot) so it seemed like he was getting something otherwise he wouldn’t be moving much at all right?  The nurses would even kind of giggle at how much he didn’t like the Doppler and would move lots to try to avoid it.  He had a strong heartbeat and seemed to be doing great, it was just a waiting game.  They started me on a couple rounds of steroid shots for Logan’s lungs knowing that he would be a preemie, his lungs would need that boost in hopes they would be working when he got out.

After about three weeks his heart rate kept taking random dips on the monitor.  Of course that freaked everyone out.  I would try to move to get him back and they gave me lots of oxygen to help.  It worked the first few days, then more dips started to happen.

I ended up having an emergency C Section at 27 weeks and 4 days after finding reverse flow in his brain by an ultrasound, doctors thought he would have a better chance on the outside at that point.  Two hours after my ultrasound finding this, I was in surgery having my son.  He was born at 1 pound and 1 ounce 10 ½ inches long.  I have never seen a baby that small in my life so I really wasn’t prepared for what was to come.  I knew was I wanted him to have a chance at life and I did not want him to die inside of me, but at the same time I know that every day he is inside of me matters.

He did really well on his first day of life, breathing was good (they were actually amazed how good it was for such a little guy) so they took the breathing tube out.  We went and saw him, couldn’t hold him but watched him moving about and even making a fist like he was fighting.  I heard his soft little cry.  Saw his fingers and toes, looked just like his daddies.  He had my nose and ears.  Even though he was jaundiced, discolored, and very bruised he looked perfect.  They mentioned blood transfusions and a bone marrow transplant were in the future so I was signing papers saying go for it.  I knew that it could be a honeymoon phase but they were all so excited I thought maybe he will be that miracle that survives this.  They day after he was born, we had family visiting in our room and a nurse called us into the NICU.   My husband wheeled me in, there were tons of nurses around him and tons of alarms going off.  I knew something was not good.  The doctor came over and told us he was having a brain hemorrhage and coding so it was time.  Before we knew it we were holding our son without any tubes on him basically waiting for him to die peacefully in our arms as we talked to him and kissed his face.  My son even responded to my husband talking to him by blinking his eyes and staring at him while he was talking.  So emotional!  The doctor kept checking his heartbeat periodically and told us she would let us know once he was gone.  It was absolutely the worst nightmare but it was our reality.  We called family and went back to my room where we told everyone that he just passed away.  The shock set in and my world completely changed that day.  

Irritating Comments

So this weekend we got to get away and spend some time with family.  It felt nice and a little bit normal.  Most of these people I haven’t seen since Logan’s funeral.  So, at first there is the awkward initial greeting.  Then it just gets into a regular bbq, lots of good food, drinks, music, etc.  I did good and didn’t break down which was awesome for once!  I was happy  that a few people brought him up and mentioned his name because that happens so rarely.  I am thankful for that.  Here is the part that irritated me ………

I was talking to another  family member who also lost a baby many years ago to SIDS and was inquiring about her struggles and how she handled the situation.  She mentioned she had anger and got into some troubled times shortly thereafter.  I went into some feelings of anger that I have recently felt and shared that with them (which is totally normal when grieving mind you)  and another family member proceeded to tell me how I should feel lucky that God picked me and I am a chosen one and a bunch of other stuff after that, but I stopped listening.  I kept thinking how can I stop this conversation that is starting to irritate me?  I am talking about feelings of anger I have been having because my son died way to soon, and you are now telling me that I am lucky?  That just doesn’t sit well with me.  I always want to turn it around and say, would you feel lucky if your child died?  How lucky would you be if you got to experience this whole traumatic disaster?  I bet you would feel just awesome and grreeeeeeaaat!  I don’t feel lucky, it doesn’t feel good, and it doesn’t make it feel any better not even one bit if you tell me that I am lucky, thanks for trying.  Of course I didn’t say any of that, I just spaced out for awhile and started thinking about something else because I didn’t even want to go there or start crying.   I just don’t want to hear comments like that.  Everyone has their own belief and I get that it’s totally fine.  But step away for a minute and think if it was you.  The word “lucky” shouldn’t even be used in the same sentence as the death of my son.  Period.

Losing a Child

I read this article on one of my fellow bereaved mom pages and thought I would share.  It helps people understand what we go through, highlights the uncomfortable parts of our grieving process,  and makes me feel like I am not alone.


http://missinglarry.com/2012/05/30/for-those-of-you-who-believe-you-could-lose-your-child-tomorrow-and-still-be-who-you-are-today-2/

Heavy Heart

It's Friday night. While most people are out having fun, I am at home looking at creamation jewelry websites, reading bereaved mom blogs, rubbing my still sore stomach from the surgery and just plain being irritated and mad. To catch up, I got through Mother's Day (it was awful-but not sure how it was supposed to be good?). Today Logan would have been seven months old and tomorrow is seven months since he died. I just feel sad. I picture a seven month old baby and think how big he would be and who he would look like now. Every month at this time my heart feels heavy, my body aches, and sadness overwhelms me. No one in my family was able to meet him so it even feels more unreal. Sometimes I have to remind myself that his life was real and I didn't make it up, he was really here and he was alive. I'm so tired of the grief work and just irritated that it is for a lifetime! Just when I feel like I am starting to feel better a huge wave comes at me again and I go straight through it like always. I know I have to let it flow, accept my mood swings and try to stay away from everyone so they don't have to be caught in the wave too. It's not something that I can put on hold for a better day, it just happens and it's sucks! I had a prescription transferred to a different pharmacy and I seriously went to three different pharmacies thinking it was the one the medication was transferred to. Not until the third store did I even get the right name of the store! Am I really that stupid or just spaced out? I really hope my brain comes back. I had a counseling appointment and she missed the appointment thinking it was another time, could have used it today but it's all good ( I had too irritating of a day to even talk). I dodged a couple car accidents, then dropped my new phone and scratched it but thankfully didn't crack it because I just got rid of the insurance on it, locked myself out of the house, and the air conditioning broke in the car and it was really hot so rolling down the windows it is! I am going to call it a day, try to sleep, and hope that tomorrow goes by fast.

Six months out

Well, I got through Logan's six month anniversary of his death date and I actually did pretty well on that day(a couple days after was a completely different story). I did wake up at 3AM and had a really sad moment.  My friend's daughter died exactly one year ago on Logan's six month death date which I find interesting. So she came to my mind also.  I just got really sad thinking about the babies and what they were doing at that moment.  I luckily had my grief support group later that morning.  I met one of my best girlfriends for lunch and then went to an allergy appointment that lasted almost three hours of poking needles in my back and arms.  But, seriously what is physical pain?  Even if they stuck me with 100 needles it's nothing compared to watching my son die.  I don't understand why on the dates that I expect to be a mess I'm not and regular days with no significant meaning, I am a complete mess.  I really want to figure this out.  It doesn't make sense to me but the more I learn about grief I understand that it comes in waves and those waves come at random times.  I think sometimes it is the anxiety buildup of the significant date.  The worries and the pressure from myself about what to do on that date and the emotional crash, it's exhausting.  I need you all to realize one thing about grief, it does not go away, and we don't forget about it.  Just because I am not a crying mess everyday doesn't mean that I don't need you to check up on me.  I am human and I hurt everyday for my loss.  I'm humbled enough to know that Logan had a bigger purpose in life and death, but that still doesn't take away from the sharp pains I feel in my heart.  I am grieving healthy and progressively healing, but I ask that you not forget about me or Logan, this is a tough road to drive.

When the Storm Hits

Called "When the Storm Hits" by Joanne Cacciatore, Founder of MISS Foundation: 

The death of a child is a tragedy that seems largely unexpected in Western civilization.  It brings an unspoken disquietude and life is forever, changed.  How can a person-a mother, father, grandparent or sibling-possible prepare for a tragedy of this magnitude?  The storm of grief looks much like Mother Nature's wrath.  The death of a child wreaks havoc on a family, both individually and collectively.  It ruthlessly tears apart our ideals, values, beliefs, innocence, and immunity.  It awakens unanswered, and unthinkable, questions of faith.  It requires a person to summon every morsel of strength to survive just one more day in the child's absence.  It can savagely destroy our old identity, making us face a new and frightening reality.  It is the unthinkable.

It is likely that grief has left parents feeling as if their 'town' has been destroyed, their constitution dismantled.  The feel 'rebuilt' (reborn) as a new 'home' (person).  The new place is unfamiliar to them.  It will take tears, time, work, and patience to reacquaint with the new "home" in which they live.

Eventually, the city's renovation is complete.  An occasional moment of joy may be reborn within the lives, homes, and buildings of the new community.  Like the bereaved family, communities will never forget the thunderous demon that changed their lives so dramatically.

Eventually, with the love and support of others, tranquility and security are recaptured.  Hope is discovered.  But life will never, ever be the same again.



"In order to experience the rainbow, we must first survive the storm."