To plan or not to plan (possible trigger).

I am so thankful that our little baby within is a mover and a shaker. Right when I start to worry a little s/he wriggles or jiggles and lets me know that s/he's okay and alive in there.

I have nothing ready for this baby except a bin of unwashed baby girl stuff and a bin of unwashed baby boy stuff. The crib that all our children (except little J, who came with her own) have used has not ever been taken apart and put away since our oldest son, Samuel, was in it.

When Eva died we could not bear to take her bed apart and put her stuff away. Gradually the crib moved from her room that she shared with little J to our bedroom where we displayed photos and kept some of her stuff. When that woman came over from our church to tell me about how her brother kept her nephew's ashes on the mantle and the family talked about him too much and how I was prickly and unpleasant and how my grieving heart gave me no call to be that way...she was sitting right next to Eva's ashes that are on our bookshelf. But I did have a little thought to myself that it sure was a good thing she never came into our bedroom, and saw Eva's crib with all her stuff in it. Probably would have thought we had a shrine to our daughter...I digress.

Anyway, the crib has never been taken apart and just moved from baby to baby. We could not bear to take it apart when Eva died and then when we were hoping for another baby it became a symbol of hope to us. That another baby would one day use that crib again...and then when we were feeling so hopeless and just about ready to take it down we got a positive test that showed we did have hope.  And so we left it up. But it's still full of Eva's things.

I need to go through her stuff and put it in mouse-proof bins (I wish I had a beautiful cedar chest). But the weeks drag on and so do I. I sometimes wonder if this baby will come and there will be nothing ready. No crib, no diapers, no clean outfits, no shelf in our closet emptied off for tiny baby clothes, no birth plan (although, barring an emergency, I know what I want and, more importantly, what I don't want). The time is trucking along and I do nothing to prepare for baby. I don't know if it's a blockage or if I'm just lazy but I just can't seem to get myself together to get ready.

I hope more than anything this baby is just born alive and, really, who cares if we're ready or not but I have always liked to have things ready for a new baby and this is just not like the me I used to be. Always having everything planned...but there are so many parts of me that are not like the me I used to be...should I really be surprised?

Hope within the suffering.

Yesterday we had an appointment for another fetal echocardiogram. Everything is structurally fine. The pediatric cardiologist said that a rhythm problem could show up at anytime but that VT (ventricular tachycardia) is very, very rare and it is very unlikely that our little hope baby will ever develop this problem. However...however... probability and statistics mean nothing to me now.

I wish so often that things were different in our family. I know that these are wishes and that wishes are just that, wishes. But I just can't stop wishing for my daughter in my arms.  We brought some blankets from our neighbour to the NICU at the Stollery yesterday too. The NICU is right across the hall from the PICU. I walked through the hospital with my Samuel. We walked the same halls and staircases that I had walked so many, many times when Eva was admitted. Samuel reminded me to sanitize my hands when we walked in...he remembers how much I tried to protect Eva from anything and how careful I was (still am) about hospital germs.  We walked down to the NICU and dropped off the blankets. I looked through the window at all those little babies and their worried mamas. I thought about how hard it is to be there and just watch your baby lying there. Hoping and hoping that she will improve. I didn't want to do that. But as a mama, you do what you have to do.

Then I stopped in at the PICU social worker's office. She gave me a hug and I was happy to see that there was still a photo of Eva on her wall. I gave her the phonecards that we always bring to the Stollery PICU when we're in town. Long distance phone cards that you can buy right across the street at the Mac's but that Mac's could have been in another country, as far as I was concerned, when we were in PICU.  I put labels on the cards that they are donated in memory of our Eva, and her dates, and Lord, haste the day. Because I.just.can't.wair for the day when all will be made clear. The day that Jesus comes.

And then last night we were at the hotel and around 8:30 pm I started having contractions. They were about 10-15 minutes apart but got closer together and at about 10:15 pm they started coming every 3 minutes and were intense. So intense that I couldn't walk or talk through them. I'll admit  I was scared.

Eva's birth was 4 hours from the first twinge to holding my girl. And right now I'm only 32 weeks. I know the survival rate is good for a pre-term delivery at 32 weeks but I also know so so many people who have lost babies and children.  Those mamas and babies were in my mind when I decided to call a taxi and head to ER at the Royal Alex (we had just been there in the morning for the echo).

I got there and the contractions subsided. I felt much better and almost silly for being there but I also knew that I would not have slept with wondering if those contractions had caused some dilation. And had there been something wrong I was much safer in Edmonton at the Royal Alex than at home with our mediocre medical facility.

I was laying there alone in that hospital bed, hooked up to monitors, and listening to the comforting thumpety thump of our little one's heart beat. The contractions subsided and I was comfortable, even sleepy. But I also thought, wow, 8 weeks isn't that long to go when there is stuff to do, kids to school, supper to make, dishes to wash, laundry to fold, foreheads to kiss, bums to wipe, floors to clean, boys to separate, TV's to turn off, dogs to feed, wood to bring in, a husband to love and so many other daily blessings...but lying here would be long, long, long. And then I didn't need to but it all went through my mind anyway...

We're fine now, and home.

And I have all my stuff to do and I feel so blessed to have that stuff to do.  I miss my girl so much but am blessed to have this little hope in my belly. This New Life. This Gift from God and from my girl. This Life that wouldn't have been without my little Eva. My little Breath of Life. This hope within me, this hope within my suffering.

I've just finished reading an amazing book, Holding onto Hope, by Nancy Guthrie. I would recommend this book to anyone who is suffering. Nancy lost 2 children to a rare genetic condition but her book resonates with all suffering. It's a small pocketbook, maybe only 120 pages or so but I found it to be so amazing that I was only able to process about 2 chapters a week, at most.

Please read it if you are suffering. Whether from an illness or a broken relationship or the illness of a loved one or as a bereaved mom or dad or as a victim of a crime or as a guilty perpetrator of a crime...it is about all suffering and gives hope. To all. It is one of the best reads I have found as a bereaved mom, and I read alot. I want to buy 10 copies of it just to have it on hand to give to someone who is suffering like me or differently. Because in this life we will have trouble but, take heart, he has overcome the world.

And my grief over Eva knows no bounds but there is hope amidst the suffering. Hope within the suffering.

Crying in the hamburger.

Sometimes I can appear to have it all together and be doing okay when I'm cooking supper and suddenly the grief overtakes me and I find myself crying and silently wailing into the hamburger.

Like when I think about how much Eva loved me so much and always wanted to be with just me and then she suddenly was gone and could never be with me again. Was my baby girl scared and wanting mama and I couldn't comfort her...or are the arms of Jesus all-encompassing and all-loving for my little girl?

Does she ever miss me?

The first dress.

Little J has been with us for almost 2 years, barring the time she was not while Eva was very sick and shortly after her death. In all this time I have not bought her a new dress.

At the beginning Little J wore clothes that I had bought ahead for Eva but were still too big for her.

Clothes Eva never got to wear.

After Eva died there was a good second hand store that I could provide easily for Little J without too much tearing on my heart.

Thank you Hand me Down Depot.

At Christmas I eyed the racks of Christmas dresses but, again, did not purchase any. I could not buy two so I bought none at all. Opting, instead, to borrow a gently used one from a friend for the couple of times a Christmas dress was called for.

Next week is Little J's third birthday. The racks are, again, full of dresses. This time flowery and springy. I knew Little J would be excited to receive one of those dresses.

I know that I won`t be able to buy Little J a dress at Easter because it will be too painful. Because the one single Easter that Eva spent with us I forgot to put Easter dresses on the girls.  And I never got to have another Easter with Eva. Again, I cannot buy two...

But the 28th is Little J`s birthday. A day just for her. I can buy a dress for her, on her birthday. I wouldn`t have bought two on her birthday. I would only have bought one.

Today I bought Little J her very own new dress.

It was the cutest one on the rack and yet I avoided it...looking at all the other dresses, hoping one would attract me. But, ultimately, I ended up with the one I was avoiding. A white dress with multicoloured butterflies all over it. A dress that has Eva flying all over it.

I like butterflies on Little J but they are so Eva to me that I try to avoid them too. It`s like a dance I dance with only myself...the balance of the butterflies.

To everyone in the store I looked like a mom having difficulty deciding which dress to buy for her little girl...hmm...so many choices. To me it was a different kind of difficulty. It was not just buying a dress. It was choosing to buy a dress for Little J, only for Little J, and simply because of the joy in Little J`s eyes when she opens her present on her birthday morning.

And then I shared the dress with the boys and they covered Little J`s eyes when we paid for it. And Samuel put it under his coat for the ride home and they are thrilled to be giving her a dress she will like so much.

And I am happy they are happy. Because I am discovering that so much of their joy depends on mine right now. Their attitude and love for Little J is a reflection of mine. And my attitude and love is a choice.  A hard choice, granted, but a choice nonetheless.

And my children are watching me.

Refreshing

Something unusual happened today.

I saw someone I know but rarely see. I hadn't seen this person since before Eva died. Maybe even before she was born. That's how infrequently we cross paths.

But this person said hello and then looked me in the eye and said she had seen Mike but hadn't seen me since our daughter died. She said she was sorry and that it was very sad. She didn't beat around the bush. She didn't avoid me. She didn't pretend nothing had happened. She admired a photo of Eva and told me how beautiful she was.  I thanked her for not beating around the bush and for mentioning Eva.

Yes, it brought a few tears to my eyes but it was good.

Better than wondering if she knew our daughter had died.
Better than wondering if she even knew we had a daughter.

Refreshing.

The 15th again.

As another 15th ebbs to a close and another month without you goes by I miss the naughty little girl you might have been. The sweet little girl you surely would have been and the cute little girl I know you would have been.

I don't miss the potty training but would have loved to been given the gift of doing that with you too.

I indulged my thoughts today with you. I had a nap and thought of you. I taught the kids french and you were by my side. We had an extra muffin at breakfast and Vincent insisted on putting out your pink plate with the muffin on it for you. A matching cup was filled with water and you even got a bowl for the fruit salad you will never eat. I don't prompt him to do these sweet things but it warms my heart when he does, of his own accord, remember you. When I mentioned how nice it was he said he 'always' thinks of you.  I was glad for that pink plate on the table and the extra muffin. And for Vincent and his tender heart. And for you too, my daughter always.

Little J wanted help to put her socks on today. Theodore told her that Eva would have to help. She tearfully replied that 'Eva's not down here'. We wish you were so much my dear but you are always with us in our hearts and one day we will really be together in heaven. Just. can't. wait.

Miss you my darling. Always and forever my sweetheart.

Mama.

The 'family' calendar and Mexico.

It's been a couple of weeks since I posted. I've thought alot about writing but some things happened that kept me from it. Not all bad. We spent 1 week in Mexico! Lovely! And no email, facebook, internet at all for the whole time. The day we came home I got sick and have been sick as a dog ever since. The kids are also sick which makes for fun times! Not!

On December 28th we went to my in-laws for dinner. There is a tradition in my husband's family of creating a photo calendar of all the kids and grandkids as a gift to his parents, grandma, and aunt. It's a lovely tradition. Or it would have been except when I perused the calendar the single photo of Eva I had sent to be included in the calendar was not included. I had a complete breakdown in the guest room at my in-laws.  I haven't cried like that in months!

I was later informed by the creator of the calendar this year that there was some 'rule' that the photos needed to be from the previous year and that there were no photos of Eva taken in 2012. Therefore she was not included. This is arbitrary bureaucracy bullshit because in the past Mike's brother has not submitted photos of himself and ones from previous years were used. What hurts so much isn't that Eva was not included but that the single photo I sent was not used (except in a crappy cropped thumbnail on the front of the calendar) and that no one thought we would care. Well, obviously there are no photos of her in 2012 so Mike and Em won't even care or be hurt.  Like we are not painfully aware, every single day, that there are no photos of Eva in 2012. Like we do not see her out of the corner of our eyes every time we see our children all together. Like we do not wonder what she would do if given the chance to play with them. Like we do not wonder what dress we would pick out for her for Christmas. I wonder how Mike's sister would feel if her child was purposefully left out of the 'family' calendar.

Anyway, that whole thing sent me for a loop to the nth degree, and, by the time I was recovered enough to write we were on holiday-which was a great reprieve from real life!  I'm in a much better state of mind now than I was that week but it never ceases to amaze me how the people we care for and who we think should care for us turn out to be such absolutely hurtful creatures it's best to not speak to them in order to protect our hearts and our sanity.

I've just been trying, unsuccessfully, to upload a few pictures from our Mexico trip. Guess those will have to wait as I want to post this now and not keep waiting...