A year ago...

 Listening to 'Mad World'... this song always gets me.



On this day, one year ago, I walked into our local hospital and proceeded straight up to the maternity ward as I had already spoken with the nurses at my doctors office, he was out of town.  I had spoken with the charge nurse on duty as well... they were expecting me.
I buzzed at the locked door..."May I help you?" asked the electronic voice... " I am here to have my babies heart beat checked" ... "Yes, come right in."
Inside I was greeted by a face I will never forget, Shylah.  Miss Shylah is the head of the grieving department for our local hospital, who just so happened to be on duty that fateful day, August 10, 2010.  I did not learn this information about her until after the fact.
She took me into a room and began asking all sorts of questions about my son, kick counts, when the last I had felt him move, and family medical history.  She then asked me to change into a hospital gown and hooked me up to a fetal monitor.  After several minutes of only detecting my heart beat she proceeded to try to find the babies heart beat using a dopler.  After nearly 10 minutes of being unsuccessful, she called in another nurse to try as well... reassuring me that the baby was probably just lying behind the placenta.  At one point, she was nearly positive that she had felt the baby kick against the dopler probe, but I told her I hadn't felt anything.
The second nurse had no luck either, so they called for an ultrasound tech.  At this point I had already been in the hospital, alone, for nearly an hour.  Derek had just started a new job and I did not want to worry him if it was unnecessary.  A few minutes later, a very familiar face walked through the door pushing a mobile ultrasound machine.  She is the daughter of  a family friend... the same girl who had just weeks before confirmed for a second time that we were having a boy, and performed all of the ultrasound scans that we received with Liliana.  She looks at me worried..."What's going on miss Bethany?"...  deep breath..."I haven't felt him move in far too long, and now the nurses can not find a heart beat".  She takes a deep breath..." I am going to take some photos. You will not be able to see the monitor screen, and I will NOT be able to tell you anything."  Gasp.  "Will you at least tell me if he is moving?!" "No, sweetie, I am sorry, I can not tell you anything, you have to wait for the doctor."
I stare up at the ceiling, fighting back the tears, as I listen to the woosh sound of each photo she takes.  It did not take her long.  She was silent, and would not look at me.  When she finished, she gathered up all of her things and headed towards the door.  "Have a good day" I said to her as she left.  She did not respond. Did not even look back.  If she had, I would have seen the tears in her eyes.  The door closed and I was left ALONE once again.  At this point, I began texting my mom, trying to make small talk to pass the time while I waited.  and waited.  and waited.
At 4:20 (ish), nearly 2 hours after arriving at the hospital, the door opened and Shylah walked in.  She sat down on the bed beside me and put her arm around my shoulder. " Did your friend say anything to you?" she asked. " NO! She said she was not allowed to discuss anything with me."  She took a deep breath and said "I'm sorry Bethany, but your baby has died."
The words echoed in my head over and over again as tears streamed down my face.  She asked if I had anyone I could call to come and be with me, and said she would give me a few minutes to myself.  I collapsed in the bed, curled up in a fetal position and the river gates opened.  I have never cried so hard in my entire life.  Ever.   After a few minutes, I dialed my moms phone...she answered  "Hello?" She had just started relaxing on the back patio with a nice glass of lemonade on a hot summer day.  "Mommmmm.... I neeeeeed you."  I could hear the panic in her voice.  "OK.  Where are you? What happened?!"  Between sobbs I managed... "hospital.  the baby is dead."
My parents walked through the door 10 minutes later.  They live 15- 20 minutes away.  The loving embrace I received from them both, is another moment I will never forget.
I could not gather the courage to call Derek and tell him over the phone that his son had died.  I just couldn't do it.  My parents both offered, and I decided that I would rather someone go to him and tell him in person.  I called his best friend, who was also a co-worker who had the day off.  I pleaded to him to travel the 40 minutes to their place of business to tell him with a loving hug.   He said he would take care of it.  40 mintues later, Derek walked through the door, head down.  He took one look at me and tears started flowing through out the room.  His friend had not respected my wishes and instead, called him and told him over the phone.  (I still have not forgiven him for that, but that is another story for another day.)    The doctor FINALLY arrived.
He reaffirmed that our son had died and proceeded to tell us about our 'options'.  He stated that we could wait until my body decided to reject the fetus and go into labor on its own, which could take weeks, or we could choose to induce labor.  Yes, he was that harsh and matter of fact about it.  When my mom spoke up and asked "Why can't you just do surgery?!  You mean to tell me that after all that she has already been through, she still has to give birth?!"  He explained that, yes, it was better that way.  A c-section would be unnecessary and more of a risk than needed.   He left us to make a decision.   Which I quickly decided that I needed to be with my daughter.  I wanted to go home.  We would return the next morning to start inductions.

***The words have flown through my tears this evening. *** To be continued....

12 days...

At this point, one year ago, I was still full of bliss with visions of the perfect family in my mind. A beautiful little girl and a baby brother on the way... what more could you ask for, right?  Oh, how I miss the old carefree ME. 
Today, I struggle with the fact that HIS birthday is 12 days away.  I struggle with the fact that my sweet little boy will spend his 1st birthday in the arms of Jesus, while my arms are still aching for him to be in them.  I thank god for holding my child, and for blessing me with a little rainbow bean whose heart is beating inside of me, BUT I can't help but think of how different things should be.  I KNOW that if Sebastion WERE here with us that the likelihood of this new baby existing would be slim, but NOT impossible.  But at the same time, this precious little miracle would not have a guardian angel for a big brother.  It's all part of God's plan, right?  But it really doesn't make it hurt any less.

I miss my boy, my son, my Sebastion.

And this morning I awoke from nightmares.  Horrible, horrible nightmares of losing yet another child.  My biggest fear.  A fear that I am sure will not subside until the day this child is born.  I pray daily for the strength to continue, and for the health of my baby.  As much as I pray, the fear remains.  Especially in my dreams.

New Blog...

With new life changes, comes new life ramblings...

I have started a new blog (not that very many people actually read this one)...

For those of you who are interested, please, check it out, as I will likely be posting there more often than here... but if you are a facebook friend, please refrain from mentioning anything you may see on either of my blogs there, as I try to keep the two worlds seperate and haven't made the 'announcement' to many friends or family. 

Thanks!!http://asunamoonandarainbow.blogspot.com/

Missing him.

It is now only a matter of weeks until Sebastion's first birthday in heaven.  It all just seems so UNREAL.  Today, we are supposed to be attending a family reunion for Derek's side of the family. The same family reunion that we attended last year while I was still pregnant... still oblivious to the life that was set out before me.  It was a nice time spent with his family, and D's cousin who was due with her first child 2 days after me.  She had just found out she was having a girl, and we had known for awhile that we were expecting a boy.  We talked of how great it would be that our kids could grow up together.  Oh.  I f only that were true.  I do not know if I can go today.  Surely, the beautiful little 7 month baby girl will be there in all her drooly, teething, growing, meeting milestone glory.  Every time I look at her, it is kind of like a kick in the face.  Harsh? Perhaps.  But it does hurt.  I miss him so.

I am still trying to decide what to do for Sebastion's birthday.  I DO know that I would like to release balloons at the cemetery along with a graveside family picnic.  I have been planning to donate my hair in his honor for about six months now, and I think I will actually make my appointment for the day before... some special little child will be receiving a LOT of hair:)  I also had planned on getting his memorial tattoo for his birthday, but circumstances have changed, and the tattoo will have to wait!  I would also like to donate at least one memory box to the hospital where he was born, but I have yet to start on putting it together... guess I should shopping huh?

I hope that what my friends and fellow baby loss momma's say is true, the anticipation is worse than the actual day.  I had hoped to have his headstone before his birthday, but seeing how D and I have not found a day when we can go pick one out TOGETHER that will not happen... I do still hope that we will at least get it ordered before his special day arrives.  Headstones.  One thing a parent should never have to purchase for their child.  

Rest in Peace Great Great Grandma

Liliana's great- great grandmother has gone to be with the lord.
For 3 years, 3 months, and 8 days there were 5 living generations on Derek's side of the family.  Beulah lived a good life of 92 years, and she will be deeply missed.

Saying good bye is never easy:( 
But I know in my heart of hearts that she is in heaven, bouncing Sebastion on her knee, with the biggest smile on her face that you could imagine.

time...it's a funny thing.

Yesterday marked 11 months since the day I was told my child no longer had a heartbeat.  Tomorrow shall mark 11 months since he was birthed into this world and I held him in my arms.  I am having a difficult time accepting that this next month will be the count down to an ENTIRE year since our sweet Sebastion left our lives so quickly.

As bitter sweet as it may be, I do thank God for giving me the gift of Sebastion.  As painful as it has been (and always) will be to lose him... I have become a different me.  A better me, I'd like to think.   My heart has been opened and my soul has reached magnitudes that I did not know where possible.  I have been blessed with so much love, and have felt a love that fails in comparison to anything from my past.  As weak as I feel at times, I know in my heart of hearts, that I have become that much stronger.  Losing my son, has taught me how to give.  To give to others who feel the same, wretched, pain.  I can only hope that the spirit of giving, never goes away.

A few weeks ago, I finally mustered up the courage to go to the health department to pick up Sebastion's death certificate.  The day that we buried his ashes, my cousin had given me a silver scroll that was engraved with his full name, and intended to hold a birth certificate.

It has sat on our mantel, empty, for nearly 11 months now.  Knowing that I will never have a birth certificate for it to hold, I thought, at least it could hold his death certificate... some official document to prove that he existed.... So, I was greeted by the man in the records department, with "May I help you?"   I took a deep breath and stated  "I would like to get a copy of my son's death certificate"  and out of desperation "and birth certificate, if you actually have one"   He pulled out some books, and asked for his name and dates.  After searching through the first book, he bluntly told me... "Nope, no record of a birth certificate, was he born in Knox County?"  My answer..." yes sir, he was still born at KCH."  He gives a simple "sorry", and opens the next book.  "What was the name again?  I'm not seeing it here either."  He looks for a few minutes and tells me that there is no record of a birth certificate, or a death certificate for Sebastion.  I fight back the tears and say..." Well sir, I gave birth to him, and then I buried him.  I had to fill out information for his death certificate before the funeral home could have him cremated, so I suggest you check again."  He gets his manager.  With in 5 minutes, she finds his records in another book.  She informs me that she has to make a phone call before his records can be released, so I wait, a long and torturous 5 minutes.  Once she is off of the phone, she comes to me and hands me an orange post it.  (A fucking post it!  How does that compare what I was in search of??!!)  She tells me that she can NOT give me any records... it is POLICY that 'those' records have to be issued from the STATE, and not the county.  WHAT THE FUCK?!   So, on said post it is a phone number that I may call to make a request... and an address if I should wish to write a letter.  Sigh.  I am about to make that call, as I haven't found the courage to be nice enough to write a letter.

*Update*  I called the number I was given... and reached the DMV.  Thanks lady.  You fucking moron.

 **Update 2**  After some online research I have completed a form to mail in for a stillbirth certificate...hopefully this works.

Dandelion love

 My view of the world before Sebastion was a part of it...

And my view after...

Thank you baby, for helping me to see the beauty in all things, big and small.

I can not wish for the one thing my heart desires most... but I can wish to always feel your spirit when the wind blows, when the moon glows, and on the wings of dragonflies, butterflies, and the twinkle in my eye.