I have been a terrible mother...I haven't been to the cemetery to visit in, well, a couple of months maybe? I have had intentions, as I drive by the cemetery every time I go to my parents house, but I usually end up staying past dark when I go...not that I haven't spent after dark hours in the cemetery, but not with our daughter. The past month has been so chaotic with the holidays and doctor visits and the hustle and bustle of life that my dear sweet momma actually placed his Christmas tree at his graveside this year. Today, I finally stopped to pay a visit and this is what I found...
I cannot fully express just how unbelievably heart warming it is to visit my sons grave and find gifts left by others... I LOVE that someone else in the world thinks of him too.
Thank you momma. I love you.
And as usual....the moon was brightly shining above...my sweet boys way of saying hello.
See you on the moon
Wednesday, December 28, 2011
Sunday, December 11, 2011
Hello there:)
Yet again...I have let nearly a month slip by with no words from the soul. I am still alive, and well.
I am trying incredibly hard to be in the spirit of Christmas this season, even put my tree up BEFORE December, which is a first for me. There is still sorrow in the air as we approach what should have been. If Sebastion had lived, he would be turning ONE year old at some point soon...his due date was 12/21. Oh how different life would be. I have been feeling guilty, as I haven't been to the cemetery in a couple of months. I have every intention of getting out there to put up Sebastion's tree, but the past few weeks have been a monsoon of rain and it has been too muddy. Now it is cold, and hopefully one day this week I will make it happen, and get some quality time and photos.
Hope you all (if anyone still reads this) are well. And if you haven't been to my other blog... check it out...will be updating with happier posts over there:)
http://asunamoonandarainbow.blogspot.com/
I am trying incredibly hard to be in the spirit of Christmas this season, even put my tree up BEFORE December, which is a first for me. There is still sorrow in the air as we approach what should have been. If Sebastion had lived, he would be turning ONE year old at some point soon...his due date was 12/21. Oh how different life would be. I have been feeling guilty, as I haven't been to the cemetery in a couple of months. I have every intention of getting out there to put up Sebastion's tree, but the past few weeks have been a monsoon of rain and it has been too muddy. Now it is cold, and hopefully one day this week I will make it happen, and get some quality time and photos.
Hope you all (if anyone still reads this) are well. And if you haven't been to my other blog... check it out...will be updating with happier posts over there:)
http://asunamoonandarainbow.blogspot.com/
Wednesday, November 16, 2011
So, it seems I have become incredibly bad at the whole blog thing. I haven't even been keeping up with fellow bloggers posts, and it would seem that I have missed out on a lot. I hope you are all well, and that the upcoming holidays are gentle on you.
As far as my little world... At times I feel like it is crumbling down. I feel as though anyone outside of the baby loss community has completely forgotten about Sebastion, and if they haven't forgotten, they just plain do not care anymore. His father included. And as I struggle with emotions and fears during the pregnancy of our rainbow, he and I continue to grow farther and farther apart. It terrifies me.
Nearly a week ago a fellow co-worker and friend received a VOICEMAIL stating that the results of her amnio had come back, and that her baby girl did in fact test positive for down syndrome. Not only that, but a week or so prior, she also found out that her baby's heart only has 3 chambers, instead of 4. My heart aches for this poor girl, and I hope and pray that god performs a miracle and heals her child in the womb. Upon discussing the situation with another friend and co-worker in my home, D chimes in and tells me, and I quote "I'm sorry, but if you found out that our child had down syndrome, and YOU didn't get rid of IT, I would leave you." Seriously. Word for word. My heart is still crushed, and we really haven't spoken since, other than when I confronted him about it days later he stated that he may have been a 'little' harsh, but after how I was with losing Sebastion, he couldn't even imagine how bad I would be in that situation. And that I didn't have to LIVE WITH MYSELF after he died. Again. Dumbfounded. I have to live with myself each and every miserable moment of my life since that fateful day. And will continue to have to do so for the rest of my life. Apparently, according to his perspective, I am just supposed to be able to sweep the fact that I gave birth to our DEAD son under the rug. Forget about it, life goes on. At least for the rest of us. I wish I knew how that was possible. I had actually started feeling like I was in a good place, and then the big bad proverbial wolf came and blew my house down. I miss Sebastion deeply, I always will. And I am terrified of what will happen to my mind IF our rainbow should befall the same fate... but I am so full of hope that THAT will not be the case. I am doing everything I can to keep myself, and him, healthy and to stay optimistic... But. I am starting to feel as though D could care less. I chose not to have an amnio, because for me, the results wouldn't matter. I will love my child regardless, and the less stress, the better. But now I have to worry about whether or not we will be alone.
When I was pregnant with our first child, he would come to every prenatal appointment with me. I think he may have missed one. But he was great! With Sebastion, he worked at a different job than with our first, and he missed a few appointments, but still came when ever he was able to. And now, when I need support more than ever... and I have more appointments than ever before... he has made it to one appointment, and one ultrasound. I understand, life is busy. I do. But... fuck.
As far as my little world... At times I feel like it is crumbling down. I feel as though anyone outside of the baby loss community has completely forgotten about Sebastion, and if they haven't forgotten, they just plain do not care anymore. His father included. And as I struggle with emotions and fears during the pregnancy of our rainbow, he and I continue to grow farther and farther apart. It terrifies me.
Nearly a week ago a fellow co-worker and friend received a VOICEMAIL stating that the results of her amnio had come back, and that her baby girl did in fact test positive for down syndrome. Not only that, but a week or so prior, she also found out that her baby's heart only has 3 chambers, instead of 4. My heart aches for this poor girl, and I hope and pray that god performs a miracle and heals her child in the womb. Upon discussing the situation with another friend and co-worker in my home, D chimes in and tells me, and I quote "I'm sorry, but if you found out that our child had down syndrome, and YOU didn't get rid of IT, I would leave you." Seriously. Word for word. My heart is still crushed, and we really haven't spoken since, other than when I confronted him about it days later he stated that he may have been a 'little' harsh, but after how I was with losing Sebastion, he couldn't even imagine how bad I would be in that situation. And that I didn't have to LIVE WITH MYSELF after he died. Again. Dumbfounded. I have to live with myself each and every miserable moment of my life since that fateful day. And will continue to have to do so for the rest of my life. Apparently, according to his perspective, I am just supposed to be able to sweep the fact that I gave birth to our DEAD son under the rug. Forget about it, life goes on. At least for the rest of us. I wish I knew how that was possible. I had actually started feeling like I was in a good place, and then the big bad proverbial wolf came and blew my house down. I miss Sebastion deeply, I always will. And I am terrified of what will happen to my mind IF our rainbow should befall the same fate... but I am so full of hope that THAT will not be the case. I am doing everything I can to keep myself, and him, healthy and to stay optimistic... But. I am starting to feel as though D could care less. I chose not to have an amnio, because for me, the results wouldn't matter. I will love my child regardless, and the less stress, the better. But now I have to worry about whether or not we will be alone.
When I was pregnant with our first child, he would come to every prenatal appointment with me. I think he may have missed one. But he was great! With Sebastion, he worked at a different job than with our first, and he missed a few appointments, but still came when ever he was able to. And now, when I need support more than ever... and I have more appointments than ever before... he has made it to one appointment, and one ultrasound. I understand, life is busy. I do. But... fuck.
Monday, October 17, 2011
Remembering all our babies...
October 15th. This year, to me, seemed so much easier than last. Perhaps it was because my heart has a more time to mend...or because I didn't attend any functions on the actual...or because I have a new hope in the rainbow within... it is hard to tell the actual reason(s). But for me, the day was rather peaceful.
No. That does not mean that I am no longer sad over the loss of our sweet son...only that the hard days of breakdown and uncontrollable sobbing are fewer and farther between. I hope this some what sense of peace can stick around for awhile. I need all the strength I can get with this little miracle on the way.
No. That does not mean that I am no longer sad over the loss of our sweet son...only that the hard days of breakdown and uncontrollable sobbing are fewer and farther between. I hope this some what sense of peace can stick around for awhile. I need all the strength I can get with this little miracle on the way.
Wave of Light
I wanted to make something special this year for the wave of light, so I made the candle above. The front, of course is in honor of our sweet baby boy, and on the back I tried to include all the names of Sebastion's friends in heaven. I let it burn for nearly 5 hours, but I think that I may continue to light it from time to time when I am feeling blue. Most likely, I will end up making a new one for next year, but as of right now, I could pack it away and still have all the names for next October. Sadly though, there will likely be more names to add to it by then.
I miss my baby. I wish he were here with me. If he had been born near his due date, he would be 10 months old right now. Oh how different life would be. Sigh.
Wednesday, October 12, 2011
Feeling a little teased...
So I recently had an OB check up and finally got up enough courage to ask my Dr about the possibility of obtaining copies of the images taken at Sebastion's final ultrasound, whether or not they would even still be on file. He instantly responded with a yes and made a quick phone call to radiology. They told him that they could have the photos to me by the following morning. Just a couple of hours went by and I received a phone call from the docs office stating that my photos were there and could be picked up at any time. I raced over with excitement! New photos of our baby... photos I had never seen. YES, they were photos of him taken after his heart had stopped beating, but non the less... they were still photos of my precious baby. Sigh... The receptionist hands me the photos, I politely say thank you and begin to look at them as I walk away.... The images look all too familiar. Then I look to the top... 13 W 5 D... (9/14/11). My heart sank. (don't get me wrong, I love to look at photos of our rainbow too) I immediately returned to the window and handed the photos back to the receptionist. I told her I was sorry, but these photos are images that I already have...from THIS pregnancy. She just looked at me dumb founded. I went on to explain that the photos I had requested were from my previous pregnancy, the one that ended in stillbirth. She just gave me this look like 'why on earth would you want pictures of your dead baby?!' And then asked if I knew what date they would have been taken on. August 10, 2010..without hesitation. She wrote down the date and said she would see what she could do....
Two days have passed since then and I have not heard a word. I feel let down:( I will call tomorrow to check, but still... why tease a broken heart?
**update**
I spoke with the receptionist today and she informed me that my doctor actually had a sit down meeting with radiology over the issue. The have the photos on record, but they are on microfilm, so it will take some time to look through all the film and find them. They will contact me when they know anything further.
Two days have passed since then and I have not heard a word. I feel let down:( I will call tomorrow to check, but still... why tease a broken heart?
**update**
I spoke with the receptionist today and she informed me that my doctor actually had a sit down meeting with radiology over the issue. The have the photos on record, but they are on microfilm, so it will take some time to look through all the film and find them. They will contact me when they know anything further.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Sebastion's 1st Birthday in heaven
I've been meaning to update for a couple of weeks now, but I just haven't been able to bring myself to do it. I wanted to make this post 'perfect'... a beautiful tribute to a beautiful boy with truly inspirational and heartfelt wisdom on how passing the one year mark brought some sort of relief to my grief... but... I just can't do it. That would be a lie. So instead.... here are some photos.
His Stillbirth Certificate arrived on the anniversary of the day he died. Unfortunately, the state of Ohio did not pay much attention when filling out the information, hence August is misspelled, as is Derek's name. :( Think I can write to complain and get a new copy, typo free?
I started my day off with a haircut. A major one at that. I donated 15 inches of hair to 'locks of love' in honor of my sweet son Sebastion. :)
After the hair cut, my momma took Liliana, my niece Megan and I out to lunch....
In the evening, we headed to the cemetery. A sweet friend of mine had been there earlier in the day to visit and left him the giraffe above, as well as 2 balloons that said Happy Birthday:) We brought the giraffe home in fear that it would get broken, as we discovered a few minutes later that one of his Angels had busted:(
First birthday cupcake... We left it there... I wonder what lucky animal got to eat it?
We sang happy birthday... the tears started flowing.
Blowing out baby brother's candle.
We sent balloons with messages to heaven... and watched them until we couldn't see them anymore.
And, of course.... the night ended with a full moon:) That right there, couldn't have been anymore perfect.
I started my day off with a haircut. A major one at that. I donated 15 inches of hair to 'locks of love' in honor of my sweet son Sebastion. :)
The hair that was shipped off :) |
The final result. |
After the hair cut, my momma took Liliana, my niece Megan and I out to lunch....
Pickles and Ice Cream? You would think with that appetite someone would be pregnant...haha. |
In the evening, we headed to the cemetery. A sweet friend of mine had been there earlier in the day to visit and left him the giraffe above, as well as 2 balloons that said Happy Birthday:) We brought the giraffe home in fear that it would get broken, as we discovered a few minutes later that one of his Angels had busted:(
First birthday cupcake... We left it there... I wonder what lucky animal got to eat it?
We sang happy birthday... the tears started flowing.
Blowing out baby brother's candle.
We sent balloons with messages to heaven... and watched them until we couldn't see them anymore.
Sebastion's birthday cards :) |
Liliana wasn't feeling very well:(
And, of course.... the night ended with a full moon:) That right there, couldn't have been anymore perfect.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
A year ago... (part 2)
Once the doctor had left it did not take long for me to decide that it was best to start the induction the next day... there was no way possible that I could walk around for weeks KNOWING that my son had already died. My mom drove me in my car to my house, my dad followed in their car, and Derek left to go pick up Liliana from his grandmother's house. Upon arriving at home, I sat on my my daughters playset in the back yard, crying, until she arrived. I do not remember much of the events of that evening...mostly just that I felt numb and did not move much. At some point I managed to climb in bed and try to get some sleep.
I awoke the next morning wishing that it had all been a nightmare. Somehow I had actually slept lying on my belly, which had not happened in several months. I remember thinking how odd that was. Taking our little girl back to her great grandmothers house on the way back to the hospital was a bit torturous. I did not want to let her go. I had no idea how long it would be until I would see her again, and she knew mommy was upset, but did not quite understand what was happening (she was only 2 at the time).
We arrived at the maternity ward just before 11 am... again, ringing the buzzer at the locked doors. This time my response to the electronic voice was simply..."It's Bethany, I'm here to be induced." BUZZZ. As soon as I walked through the doors we were greeted by Brandy, the same nurse who delivered our precious daughter. She gave me a gigantic hug and started crying right along with me. We stood there in the hallway for a minute or so, then gathered ourselves, and she led us to our room. Room 501. The corner suite. The very same room that Liliana was born in. Eerie.
She began explaining the way the induction would work... they would hook me up to an IV to keep me hydrated and to push pitocin, and they would insert little pills into my cervix every four hours that would help with the softening and allowing me to dilate. It could be a very long process, I was warned. During said time, I would not be allowed to eat solid food. Only ice chips, popcicles, broth, tea, etc. Bleh. I wasn't hungry anyway. I hadn't eaten much of anything since I had left work the day before. How was one supposed to think about food when their child was dead?
Derek and I settled in to our room for the long haul. My mom joined us after a couple of hours and she stayed until the following evening. She is an amazing woman, with a heart bigger than I can describe. Most of the day was spent in silence. Many people contacted my mom to see if they could come visit, but I did not want to see anyone. I did not care to have visitors.
Brandy came in several times to talk to us about bereavement and funeral plans. I remember her giving me a Purple folder full of different pamphlets on how to cope with the loss of a child...but I could not bring myself to read them. I looked at them, but I could not see words. Nor did I want to.
Every couple of hours a nurse would come in to check my cervix and/or give me more pills.
I think around 9 pm Derek left to go get a sub from subway and brought one back for me, just in case. It smelled delicious! As he was eating, nurses kept coming into my room and he would sneak me bites in between their visits. Food was needed by that point, and much appreciated, even though I was not technically supposed to eat it.
Around 11pm the contractions started to pick up to the point where I could REALLY feel them. I refused to have an epidural because I did not want to feel any more numb than I already did. I wanted to feel every bit of pain because it would be the last I would feel my sweet boy inside my womb...moving or not.
I tried sleeping on and off throughout the night, but did not have much luck. Around 4:30 am the pain was so bad I was too the point of clutching to the side rails. I remember the nurse coming in to check on me and saying it won't be much longer. At around 4:45 my water broke, and I began to feel immense pressure. Our sweet little boy was born silent at 4:50 am with no one in the room but myself, Derek, and my mom. I have no clue where the nurse was...she came running in just after he was born, cut the cord, wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to me.
The pain in my body instantly stopped. For a moment, it was calm and quiet. I kissed our sweet son on the forehead and stared into his face for a several minutes. I could not get over just how beautiful he was. His body was still warm, soft, and smooth. His lips were perfect. He had one eye open and it was staring right at me. Finally, I asked Derek if he would like to hold him. As soon he exchanged from my arms to his, I looked at Derek, sobbing, and said "Sebastion?" He instantly agreed with a nod and tear stained cheeks. We had not chosen a name... we had several written down, but we both agree that we can not actually name a child until we have met them face to face. Liliana was 36 hours old before we decided on her name.
The nurse had given us about 15 minutes to spend with our son, and then returned to check on me, as I had not yet delivered the placenta. Another nurse came and took Sebastion to the nursery to clean him up. After several minutes of pushing, I felt a tug on the umbilical cord, the nurse had yanked on it to speed the process along, which in turn made the placenta come out in pieces.
About an hour later, an ultrasound tech showed up to do an internal scan to check and see if there were still fragments of the placenta left inside my uterus. How pleasant that was after just giving birth. Indeed, there was... so I would have to have a DnC the following morning. Yet another day confined behind hospital walls....
I awoke the next morning wishing that it had all been a nightmare. Somehow I had actually slept lying on my belly, which had not happened in several months. I remember thinking how odd that was. Taking our little girl back to her great grandmothers house on the way back to the hospital was a bit torturous. I did not want to let her go. I had no idea how long it would be until I would see her again, and she knew mommy was upset, but did not quite understand what was happening (she was only 2 at the time).
We arrived at the maternity ward just before 11 am... again, ringing the buzzer at the locked doors. This time my response to the electronic voice was simply..."It's Bethany, I'm here to be induced." BUZZZ. As soon as I walked through the doors we were greeted by Brandy, the same nurse who delivered our precious daughter. She gave me a gigantic hug and started crying right along with me. We stood there in the hallway for a minute or so, then gathered ourselves, and she led us to our room. Room 501. The corner suite. The very same room that Liliana was born in. Eerie.
She began explaining the way the induction would work... they would hook me up to an IV to keep me hydrated and to push pitocin, and they would insert little pills into my cervix every four hours that would help with the softening and allowing me to dilate. It could be a very long process, I was warned. During said time, I would not be allowed to eat solid food. Only ice chips, popcicles, broth, tea, etc. Bleh. I wasn't hungry anyway. I hadn't eaten much of anything since I had left work the day before. How was one supposed to think about food when their child was dead?
Derek and I settled in to our room for the long haul. My mom joined us after a couple of hours and she stayed until the following evening. She is an amazing woman, with a heart bigger than I can describe. Most of the day was spent in silence. Many people contacted my mom to see if they could come visit, but I did not want to see anyone. I did not care to have visitors.
Brandy came in several times to talk to us about bereavement and funeral plans. I remember her giving me a Purple folder full of different pamphlets on how to cope with the loss of a child...but I could not bring myself to read them. I looked at them, but I could not see words. Nor did I want to.
Every couple of hours a nurse would come in to check my cervix and/or give me more pills.
I think around 9 pm Derek left to go get a sub from subway and brought one back for me, just in case. It smelled delicious! As he was eating, nurses kept coming into my room and he would sneak me bites in between their visits. Food was needed by that point, and much appreciated, even though I was not technically supposed to eat it.
Around 11pm the contractions started to pick up to the point where I could REALLY feel them. I refused to have an epidural because I did not want to feel any more numb than I already did. I wanted to feel every bit of pain because it would be the last I would feel my sweet boy inside my womb...moving or not.
I tried sleeping on and off throughout the night, but did not have much luck. Around 4:30 am the pain was so bad I was too the point of clutching to the side rails. I remember the nurse coming in to check on me and saying it won't be much longer. At around 4:45 my water broke, and I began to feel immense pressure. Our sweet little boy was born silent at 4:50 am with no one in the room but myself, Derek, and my mom. I have no clue where the nurse was...she came running in just after he was born, cut the cord, wrapped him in a blanket and handed him to me.
The pain in my body instantly stopped. For a moment, it was calm and quiet. I kissed our sweet son on the forehead and stared into his face for a several minutes. I could not get over just how beautiful he was. His body was still warm, soft, and smooth. His lips were perfect. He had one eye open and it was staring right at me. Finally, I asked Derek if he would like to hold him. As soon he exchanged from my arms to his, I looked at Derek, sobbing, and said "Sebastion?" He instantly agreed with a nod and tear stained cheeks. We had not chosen a name... we had several written down, but we both agree that we can not actually name a child until we have met them face to face. Liliana was 36 hours old before we decided on her name.
The nurse had given us about 15 minutes to spend with our son, and then returned to check on me, as I had not yet delivered the placenta. Another nurse came and took Sebastion to the nursery to clean him up. After several minutes of pushing, I felt a tug on the umbilical cord, the nurse had yanked on it to speed the process along, which in turn made the placenta come out in pieces.
About an hour later, an ultrasound tech showed up to do an internal scan to check and see if there were still fragments of the placenta left inside my uterus. How pleasant that was after just giving birth. Indeed, there was... so I would have to have a DnC the following morning. Yet another day confined behind hospital walls....
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