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Taking the Leap of Faith; Cutting Off Baby Clothes Tags! (PAL Diary Entry: 28 Weeks)

7/20/17

So today I decided to take all the tags off your new clothes to wash them next week when my mom is here. She’s going to bring some hand me downs from your cousin Leandro so I’ll wash everything all at once. I filled a whole basket with your new clothes. I was surprised how much you have. A lot of it I bought early on when I was excited about being pregnant but worried because it was too soon to feel movements. So I shopped whenever I was starting to worry to try to bond with you and collected a lot of cute onesies I found on sale. It felt like a big step to cut the tags. But I feel it’s the right time and I want to get prepared for when you are here. I have anxiety that it could be sooner than full term because we lost your brother at 32 weeks. But today we did another NST and you were very active and your heartbeat was strong and normal so we only had to stay 30 minutes. The nurse said you were doing everything she wants a baby to do. So I do feel a little more reassured tonight as you wiggle in my tummy before bed. Love you so much, even when you’re making it hard to sleep. Your family is so excited to meet you. Naomi can’t wait to hold you and help me push you along in the stroller! She’s going to be a great big sister!

Unless you’re a loss parent, you may not be able to understand the significance of this moment. It means finally letting your guard down a little and allowing yourself to believe your baby may actually make it home to be able to wear these new clothes one day. You’re basically taking a risk cutting those tags and telling yourself you won’t have to return them.
Naomi having snacks while she waits for mommy’s NST to be over. She went to most of our appointments and was such a good, patient girl, as long as she had something to eat! Though NST’s made me nervous, they also gave us some reassurance that for at least that moment our son was still ok.
This was the most heightened time for our anxiety as we approached 32 weeks (the gestation we lost our son Owen)

7/21/17

Took a trip to Target to get Jackson’s rainbow shirt and a few other missing baby essentials. Glad they have electric carts here, so I wasn’t breaking my bedrest too much. Exciting to feel a little more prepared for my boy to hopefully come home this time.

If you were PAL in 2017, you most likely ran to Target to get this rainbow onesie! It was the most shared find on IG, we all had to have it! Even though I was on bedrest, I had permission to take short trips when necessary & this for me was a must for my boy.
My sweet girl in her big sister shirt proudly holding her second little brother’s matching outfit.
Some of the items I bought at Target for our rainbow. This was so different than Owen’s pregnancy when I didn’t buy him much because I felt he could just use Naomi’s gender neutral hand me downs. I wanted it to feel real that Jax would get to come home, even if it was a risk to buy him more clothes of his own.
This is bedrest at home. Tray full of snacks, so I could watch a movie with my girl and not get up at all. Not the way most imagine spending their pregnancy, but the 17 weeks of bedrest, though quite trying, were worth our little boy’s safe arrival.

7/23/17

Just lounging in my bathing suit to cool off after working in the garage this morning to sort out the baby things we had from when Naomi was a baby. It was so hot, my face was red so I’m drinking water and relaxing on the couch for a bit while daddy finishes up organizing the bins in the garage. We have so much baby stuff! Now we have to wash everything when my mom gets here and figure out where to put everything inside. Feeling good about getting ready for you baby. You just kicked as I took this pic! Love you Jax!

The most action my bathing suit got all summer, since I couldn’t swim!
Felt stretched to my limit, but there’s still some growing for us to do. Amazing what our bodies are capable of!
Found one of the few onesies that we had bought for Owen (he is buried in the other onesie from this set in fact.) Will be an extremely emotional day when we see Jax in it.

Getting To The Gestational Age That We Lost Our Son Owen (PAL Diary Entry: 32 weeks)

8/8/17

Ultrasounds give me the worst anxiety, but the greatest relief when they’re done. I can then say to myself, “all is well today”.

As we get closer to passing 32 weeks and hopefully meeting our son Jax I think my grief for Owen has gotten stronger, mainly because I feel sad that he’s not here too but also because I am worried that people will act like this baby fixes everything and that’s not right. Jax is going to add joy and make us happy in his own way but it’s impossible for anyone to erase the grief we have over Owen and I worry if they know we had another boy they’ll just think everything is fine now. Strange thoughts maybe but I just don’t want Owen to be forgotten and I don’t want that burden on Jax of making everyone happy. I’m just sure I’ll get defensive when anyone makes any comments about me having one daughter and one son or anything that suggests he’s better or stronger, etc. People say things trying to be nice and cheerful but those type of comments hurt me greatly. So on top of worrying about having him be born healthy I have that added layer of worry over what’s going to be said to us after he’s here. I’ll def make sure to announce and post about him while mentioning that he’s not going to replace our other son and that we are still grieving Owen so that hopefully people will realize that they have to be careful with saying anything hurtful but I can imagine someone will not know how I feel and say the wrong thing without meaning to upset me.

Like a family member on the phone yesterday said something about how this boy is going to be big (her usual choice of word that bothers me) and healthy, so I decided to tell her that while I hope that’s true and we will be happy to have him that I hope she realizes we are still going to be sad about Owen and I don’t want anyone thinking that Jax is going to replace him. She said oh no, we still miss Owen and think of him. I’m glad I said that to her because she has the habit of focusing on this baby and to me it has felt like she thinks this is going to make us a perfect little family with a boy and girl. But hopefully now she’ll be more sensitive.

Anyway, that’s my thing for this week as I get to the point where we were when we lost Owen. Just feeling melancholy and missing him, plus a little scared, but also thankful we are getting further along.

Little brother Jax still growing in my womb,

Somewhere Over the Rainbow a Dream Finally Came True (My Rainbow Pregnancy Journey: Part 1)

The birth of our third child, our much prayed for second son, is almost surely the most cathartic and fulfilling moment of my adult life to date. While having our first born daughter safely delivered in our arms was beautiful, miraculous and awe-inspiring as well, the birth of a child after multiple losses brings with it so many emotions that are far more intense than one could imagine you could feel before loss. Having a baby is the closest we’ll ever be to experiencing the power of God. Seeing how from an egg and sperm that joined together our bodies can grow a perfect little human that magically is brought to life from our womb is just mind blowing to me. Every time I’ve held our newborn babies I immediately fell in love and thought to myself, “Wow we made you? You were in there all this time?” Meeting our littlest son after the devastation of having miscarried, then lost his brother Owen at close to 32 weeks of pregnancy, then miscarried again, was a moment I long dreamt of, but never truly believe would happen for us until that moment he was in our arms.

The vision board I created for my pregnancy with my rainbow baby. So many hopes & dreams right here that I prayed over non-stop! (And yes, he was due on his brother Owen’s birthdate by chance/divine plan)

To recap the pregnancy was far from perfect or easy. We had the anxiety to be expected of a PAL (Pregnancy After Loss) couple; Fearful every moment would be our last. Nights of insomnia filled with worry that I would miss a moment when my son stopped moving and it would be too late when I woke up to save him. Flashbacks of our loss. And from the beginning I had a nagging worry that for some reason I would have a premature delivery and my baby wouldn’t survive. I don’t know where that fear came from, probably because my brother’s girlfriend tragically lost a baby after us from her water breaking suddenly and then my sister sadly lost twins from terrible, unexpected complications in the second trimester. But based on my own history, I had no reason to assume my water would break early. I still decided to take it super easy during my pregnancy, not even going for walks though I know being fit is good for most pregnancies. I just couldn’t shake the feeling that if I did too much, I could lose this baby too. Sure enough at our 20 week appointment, after having the anatomy fully scanned and things seemingly going well, my doctor called in his nurse to deliver some terrifying news. My heart sank and my eyes began to flood as I feared the worse. Thankfully it was something we could act on. The doctor informed us that my cervix had begun shortening. We had the option of a cerclage which wasn’t a guarantee (“In lesser skilled hands”) but our amazing doctor had been successful with this method in many, many pregnancies before ours. We trusted our doctor (Dr. Tabsh) and his team fully, so we booked the surgery for that weekend and I put myself on at home bedrest until that morning. Good thing that I did, by the time of the surgery I had begun to dilate 1 cm as well. I was a complete wreck going into the surgery but had reached out to a support group online that sent me a prayer over our son that I read that morning which gave me a sense of peace. As I lay in the OR, my doctor and nurses cheerfully chatted and joked with each other which put me at ease since they apparently felt things were going smoothly. The entire time I just prayed for the doctor’s hands to act as God’s hands, so that he would skillful and be able to help keep my baby safe inside of me. After recovery we were sent home and that very moment I walked back in the house through the garage door I exhaled for the first time in days thanking God for letting me walk back in with my baby still in my womb. Tears of joy and gratitude rushed out of my eyes. We still had our baby boy with us.

Fast forward past 17 weeks of bedrest at home where I spent the majority of my time laying on the coach watching Netflix, crocheting and reading with the occasional visitor or trip to the doctor’s office and permission to attend a couple special events for our daughter (I will share more about this challenging experience in a later post). We were now at 31 weeks and 2 days having been admitted to the hospital after our last appointment due to low fluid levels. In reality the level wasn’t so drastically low, but low enough that our doctor didn’t want to take chances with us because of our history and we were too afraid to have me leave without our son being born after that so we begged to be kept there on the monitor and IV fluids until they could let us schedule our c section. This was another turning point for our bumpy pregnancy journey, but though I wished to be home with our daughter and my husband, I was so thankful to have been able to stay at the hospital under their watchful care because of our raging panic that if I went home something terrible would go wrong again and we would be too late getting back to the hospital. We could thank PTSD for that trauma since we lost our first son at almost 32 weeks of pregnancy after a “textbook” perfect pregnancy without any complications and no warning.

All I want to say to end this post is please always trust your gut instincts/mother intuition. If you feel like something can be wrong, be your own advocate and refuse to go home without all the possible screenings and tests done to assure you that everything is in fact ok. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve gone back to that awful day when we lost our son Owen to think what I could’ve and should’ve done differently to save him. Yes, I went in to the ER to check on him when I felt something was wrong, but maybe I shouldn’t have listened to the person who answered my call and waited to eat to try to get him to move more and then go in if he didn’t start reacting. I would definitely have run in now if I could do that all over again, but I was naive and unaware that I could lose my son in that moment (I had never even heard of stillbirth back then or kick counting, which I did but since Owen was such an active baby I really took closely tracking his movements for granted). So, while this story of my rainbow pregnancy will thankfully have a happy ending, my first son did not get to come home with us and I wanted to take this time to remind you that you have to trust yourself and speak up for you and your baby. I’ll finish sharing our happy rainbow baby pregnancy and delivery journey in a future post, but for now, let me also assure anyone who is struggling through PAL that although it can be a very scary and difficult journey, I am here for you (just as many others in our “club” of loss families are) to help you get through each of the days ahead, so please feel free to leave me a comment or find me on Facebook (www.facebook.com/stillmysonOwen) if you need support.

As always, your sweet babies will live on in my heart along with our son Owen. 

Grief (Uncensored)

Here she is again; That viscous, heartless bitch, grief. She has no care for what day it is. She storms in, flinging the door wide open whenever she damn well pleases and ruins everything; Holidays, anniversaries, special occasions are all fair game. Four years after loss, her arrival has gotten a bit more predictable. We don’t feel the weight of her constant, daily presence like we did the first couple years. She’s more like the annoying uncle everyone puts up with at Thanksgiving and tries not to engage in conversation to avoid his off-color jokes. But that doesn’t mean she can’t show up without a moment’s notice and turn your whole world upside down again. People say grief comes in waves. In my experience she’s more of a tsunami attack. You can’t just wade in the shallow side of grief, she’ll drag you into the deep end and dunk you under as you gasp for air, crying out in vein for someone to save you. All it takes is a small trigger or a bad day for her to see her way in. Kick you while you’re down, that’s her style. A real bitch I tell you. But you know the weirdest part of this toxic relationship? Sometimes I see her coming and I invite her in. I welcome her like a long lost friend. Ah (sigh of relief), there she is, just when I was afraid I had “moved on”. That the pain of loss had decided to let go of my heart and somehow that means I miss him less. After a long spell of her silence, of being able to go through my daily routine without a tear, I feel somehow thankful when she returns and she reminds me of how much I lost, how badly I still long for my baby boy. She’s the only one who knows how truly broken I still am. She heard my guttural screams when I was told the news, “I’m sorry, we couldn’t save him. Your son died”, or some similar matter of fact statement that I couldn’t believe I was hearing as I was coming out of the black fog of anesthesia. My husband held my hand, tears flowing. Cries followed that sounded so foreign, but somehow were coming from deep within me; uncontrollable and piercing wails like a wounded animal. Only she knows how we sat together in the darkness every hour of every day after for months on end. I couldn’t imagine life without our son. The only moments I could see the light were when my sunshine came to my bedside to sit with me. My four year old girl, sitting sweetly in my rocking chair smiling at me and instinctively coming to my bedside to hold my face within her tiny hands making mommy smile back at her when I was at my worst. She kept me from being swallowed whole by grief in those early days. My husband too, with his rock solid strength, pushing forward, going back to work to keep us afloat and putting on a brave face though he was also fighting off grief and severe PTSD. God was there too, silent but steady, understanding all to well the pain of losing a child. He never left my side and kept promising me beauty for ashes, asking me to trust Him. Then inexplicably, somehow life continues moving on. We learn to cope, figure out ways to honor our lost loved one and by some miracle we can experience joy and hope again too. Grief takes a break, maybe she finds some other poor unsuspecting soul to ambush. Yet she won’t let you forget her, she comes back unannounced and as much as I dread that day, I can’t help but smile because I know she’s going to bring me right back to that place. That moment I held him in my arms for the first time, smelled his fresh baby skin, took in his perfection, every inch from his soft blonde hair, handsome cleft chin, long, thin body, down to his slightly crooked toes (just like daddy’s). He’s gone now, but he was here. He died in delivery, but he lived in me, and that’s where he continues to live today. Always in my heart, my son, Owen Nathaniel Vick. Grief lasts forever just like our love, they coexist hand-in-hand, and I’ve learned to accept the crashing waves that allow me to feel the depth of that endless love.

A Life is a Life from the Start

When does life begin? I know many have debated this issue and I won’t be the one to settle it here. Yet I feel inclined in my late night insomnia induced pondering to share my two cents.

Conception. No doubt about it. That moment when a very persistent sperm meets the specific egg that was dropped at that exact time of the month is the instant life begins. Yup, as soon as I read the plus sign on my pregnancy test I knew I was a mom. Ask any woman when she finds out she is pregnant and I think she will tell you the same thing. Of course it takes many more months to form a healthy, viable baby, but from the very start we already assume full responsibility for the care and growth of that baby in our womb.

Physically, some women go through many difficult challenges in their pregnancy journey (infertility, IVF, cerclage, bedrest, progesterone shots, c sections, and so many other serious medical issues) while others have less complicated pregnancies yet still also experience many of the same changes having to adjust their eating and drinking habits, take prenatals, go to countless doctors appointments and deliver (no small feats). Of course every mother equally sacrifices their bodies as they grow a tiny human inside their womb. Pretty sure we all in the final uncomfortable months wonder how we can possibly expand any further as our skin is stretched to the limit and we can’t even fathom there is any more room left inside for the baby to grow more. Yet somehow we do, and somehow that baby continues to grow and form until it’s time for that precious child to meet the world.

Emotionally, from the moment they conceive, hopeful parents prepare for their baby’s arrival and envision who that baby will become. A mother and father’s bond and love for that baby often grows exponentially along with every cell of its body. From the week to week updates on the apps or websites we check and the doctor visits where we can physically see the baby on ultrasounds, we know those little growing cells are alive and creating a being from day 1. But more importantly in our hearts that child has already taken his or her position in our family as our child and that will never change no matter what happens on the long road ahead.

I know there are those who will still debate this issue scientifically or rationally noting that at that first moment we can’t claim there is a living baby inside of a mother yet. I imagine these people have never been pregnant before themselves. I find myself hard pressed to believe that anyone who has carried a child and/or witnessed the miracle of creation for themselves as a father would be of the opinion that the mother wasn’t carrying a life, granted in its beginning stages, when they first got pregnant. While I don’t advise anyone to get pregnant just to see what I mean, I feel I can safely wager that if they did they would have to agree. You can’t experience the process of reproduction and watch your baby grow, develop likes and dislikes, flutter, kick, and turn in habitual and distinctive ways, without realizing that this very tiny being is becoming a unique person with each passing day and soon, if you’re lucky enough to get to participate in the miracle of birth, your awe will overtake any doubt as you behold that tiny, perfect little person and ask, “Wow, you were in there all along”? Yet somehow you have an instinctive sense of knowing that very child was in fact in there, growing inside of you, becoming who this child was made to be, and bonding with you from that very first second. If, I pray, when, your little one looks back up at you with their eyes full of wonder and you have the great fortune of seeing them continue to form and evolve as they get older, I am certain you’ll have no way of disagreeing that from the very start your child was alive and every moment of that life is a true blessing.

This isn’t a political debate, there is no hidden agenda or religious belief being pushed on anyone. Just the truth in my heart that I wanted to share with the universe tonight as a mother of five: one in heaven, two in my arms, and two more in the stars (though they only formed in my womb for less than two months each they are also a part of our forever family).

Owen, Jordan and Avery, I love you all just as much as your siblings on Earth. ????

Edit: This is my spiritual/personal belief about life, but I strongly support a woman’s choice and I know sadly many need to make a very difficult decision because of their baby’s condition or threat to their own life, etc. It is a very complex matter and my point was just to highlight how I have thought of all my babies as mine from day one and I especially feel protective over anyone who will question that my son was born, although he was born still. He was still born from my womb and will always be my son.

Indifference or Apathy Towards Loss; It’s Time to Talk

Lately my expression of grief has been lingering in the anger phase more than usual. Probably because all my emotions of frustration and anger regarding the loss resurface every time we celebrate our son’s “birth” day (October 3rd). I inadvertently return to that earlier stage of trying to make sense of why we lost him and who was at fault. It’s an extremely lonely and depressing place to be, but I can’t escape it, it keeps me up at night and tortures my mind endlessly. Couple that with the perceived indifference or apathy that I feel others have toward our loss, especially now three years later, it’s a dark and alienating feeling I wouldn’t wish on anyone.

Clearly no one would dare say anything suggesting we move on or that they don’t see why I’m still grieving, but it’s what they don’t say. The difficult moments when I or my husband decide to tell someone we lost a son don’t happen as often as before. But when we do, especially when he shares our loss story (because he doesn’t express his grief as much as I do so when he opens up about our son I know it took a lot), I would expect that the person listening could offer their condolences. It doesn’t have to be a lengthy conversation, but a simple “I’m sorry for your loss” would be much less cruel than silence and a change of topic. Why is it that people skirt passed uncomfortable conversations about grief? I guess maybe they think if they talk about the loss then we’ll be reminded and somehow hurt more? I know it’s hard to go there and feel empathy for someone when they’ve experienced the unspeakable and some people are surprised by the shocking, sudden knowledge that we lost a baby so they just don’t know what to say. But coming from a loss mom, if you don’t know how to react just say whatever you can come up with: “I’m sorry”, “That must be so hard”, “I am here for you”, “Can you tell me about him?”, anything, just don’t stay quiet please. It breaks our hearts our child is no longer here and your avoidance of talking about him doesn’t help. If anything it dishonors his memory and makes us feel even more alone.

And since social media is where many interactions take place these days, if you see a post about a person’s loss, please don’t “Like” it or nod and keep on scrolling. And if you planned on just tapping the sad faced emoji (????), reconsider and kindly take a moment to write out a sentence. Again it can be brief, but it means so much if you acknowledge our pain with a few words. I hope my advice doesn’t come off preachy, but I’ve experienced this enough times in three years and I know people mean well, so I’ve decided to share my feelings to tell others who want to be there for us and anyone else who lost a child that it’s okay to talk about our babies. We crave hearing their name and knowing you still care.

If you’re a loss parent reading this and you feel alone, you aren’t. I’m sorry we are here in this unfortunate club together, but I am glad that we can offer each other support knowing exactly what one another is going through. I will always be honored to hear about your child and grieve them with you. Please tell me about them. Comment with your baby’s name and story below, share my post, and let’s keep talking and honoring their little lives. I miss my son, Owen, just as much yesterday, today and always. It is still so hard, but on the good days something or someone reminds me of him and I can smile because he is mine and I am his forever. ????

A Sweet Rainbow Baby Sprinkle For My High Risk Pregnancy After Loss

Our sprinkle last weekend was everything I dreamt of and more! So many of our close family and friends were able to make it and all the meaningful little details I wanted to include came out perfectly. I made a lot of the signage and crocheted decor pieces (including the favor candles) in my spare time while on bedrest. The day of I had so much help from my sisters (who also did all the shopping), hubby (who not only was my set up Superman and a wonderful party host but also customized an antique door for me for decor), Mom and MIL (both also took turns staying with us for weeks to take care of us during my bedrest), Dad, brother, SIL, and friends who all worked together on the food and setup, so I actually didn’t feel like I was too overwhelmed. Special shout out and thank you to my super detailed friend Mayla who always makes me feel so at ease at my events because I know she’ll get everything done with style and who loaned us her custom-made donut wall, cocktail tables, chairs and platters plus made the delicious Wisconsin cheese platter! And thank you to Kathrin for all her items she offered to let us borrow to make our party pretty and for those yummy rainbow pretzel sticks her sister made! Of course I’m so thankful to have my sisters who helped and encouraged me throughout the planning to have this sprinkle and came a long way (from Florida and San Jose) to help make my dream party come true. I’m so glad I didn’t let the fear of another loss keep me from enjoying this moment in our rainbow pregnancy. 

My heart is overjoyed knowing how much Jax is loved already. We requested diapers only since we have many of our daughter’s baby items saved but still got a lot of cute and useful gifts on top of plenty of diapers to start us off! Seeing all of Jackson’s gifts also really helped me visualize our son coming home. Now that we are 26 weeks I feel better knowing Jax is viable and each day that passes, as we continue to fight IC, we are getting closer to delivering a healthy baby. I am beyond thankful to God for this new life that I’m carrying and feel blessed to be this far along, experiencing Jackson’s strong kicks and summersaults, and being able to let myself dream about his arrival.

Beside documenting this special day, I wanted to share my experience on my blog in case any other PAL moms and dads are trying to decide if you want to have a shower. I think it’s a beautiful occasion and every baby deserves to be celebrated, but I understand the anxiety too. My husband wasn’t as sure about doing it because he’s concerned still with our experience of a 32 week loss, but was supportive of my desire to have the sprinkle despite his valid fears. We didn’t have a shower for our angel thinking we had enough hand-me-downs and we’d do something to celebrate him after he was born, but we didn’t get to, so I felt it was important to have one for our next, and possibly last, baby. After enduring 5 pregnancies in 6 years and three losses, I truly think we deserve to be celebrated too and for at least one day allow ourselves to be excited for this miracle we are still getting to see grow and will hopefully get to raise. Who else had a shower for their rainbows? Were you happy that you did it? Let me know how you celebrated! ????????

​We are so thankful for all the thoughtful gifts we received for Jax, but this one was beyond special so I just have to point it out. I cried when I first saw it. My sister had made a blanket for our angel Owen with the other piece of the same fabric and we laid him to rest wrapped in it. So my heart is just so overwhelmed with emotions knowing our rainbow was gifted this blanket from my sister and mom (who sewed this one). ???? Our son Jackson is due on his big brother’s birthday so we always felt that he was handpicked for Earth by Owen for us. We couldn’t be more excited to meet him!

Another Rollercoaster Appointment for our Rainbow Baby: 24 Week Scan, 4 weeks Post Cerclage

6/14/17

We had our 24 week appointment today. That’s right, we made it to the first viability milestone! Baby Jax is doing well, praise the Lord! He’s measuring on track, 1.7 lbs. My cervix is holding up and a little longer now too (3.3 cm), so bedrest is working. That was such a stressful ultrasound though! My High Risk OB was measuring Jax’s brain area so many times (turns out whatever it was is still within normal limits) and was just super quiet the entire scan (as is his usual professional style). I was having a panic attack waiting for him to finish the ultrasound. I could literally feel my heart beating out of my chest as I gripped my husband’s arm! I was definitely worried and scared that we were planning for our Sprinkle this month and buying stuff for Jax, and something could be wrong. Of course more than all that, we would be devastated if anything happened to him because we love him so much already. But thank God he’s keeping our little boy healthy and growing well.

I was a mess after, asking my OB if Jax was ok and if everything looked fine (tears and all). Luckily he has compassion for me and when I asked if we can start doing NST’s (Non Stress Tests to monitor baby’s heartbeat at the hospital) early he said he would do that for me if it’ll help me feel better. He asked “how early, 30 weeks”, and I requested “how about 28, because we lost our son at 32 and I want to know if they see any changes in Jax’s patterns”. So he said ok. He also noted that right now my anxiety is at an orange level and by that time it’ll be more like red level, but he assured me that everything is ok. I was so emotional because we still don’t know what caused the loss of our other son in the last trimester, but my OB said most likely it was a cord accident, a 1/9,000 thing and it just happened to us. To which I replied that that’s why I’m still scared because I know Jax is fine now, but anything can happen. So hopefully by having the NST’s done earlier I can get a little reassurance though I know I’ll be a wreck during and after them until Jax is born! I just kept praying during the ultrasound asking God to please make Jax perfect and to help rid me of my fears. This pregnancy is just so tough but I’m trying my best to be all in and not be afraid of another loss. Despite the heartache and stress, I am so thankful to be at this stage carrying a healthy baby boy and I am doing everything I can to be in the moment, bond with Jax and enjoy feeling his kicks.

Lesson learned this week, always ask for what you need. I’m still coming down from my emotional rollercoaster, but feeling more at ease now that my OB agreed to earlier NST’s. Hopefully the next appointment in little over two weeks will be another good one, but as always we just have to take this pregnancy one moment at a time.

A Little Easier, But Just as Heartbreaking

April 1, 2017

Had a hard night. Just looking through old photos on my phone to try to delete some and make some memory space. I was looking at the days before losing our son. How naively happy we all were. Then all of a sudden, complete and utter heartbreak and unimaginable sadness. I didn’t know this could happen during a perfectly normal pregnancy. I wish I could go back and tell myself that day we lost our son to take a trip to the hospital earlier just to check on him, but I had no warning signs until that night when Owen stopped moving. Why did we have to go through this? Why did we lose our strong, sweet boy?? Being pregnant with another rainbow still doesn’t make me feel any better. If anything I am more saddened that we lost a perfect baby and we have no promises that this time will be different. All this aside, I am very thankful that I’m alive and have a chance to be a mother again to a son who I know I will love as much as Owen. Just wish things would’ve been different and he could be here too. 

June 14, 2017

My new purpose since our loss is to spread awareness about kick counting and trusting your intuition in your pregnancy. Don’t take no for an answer if you feel that something is wrong. Be the annoying patient that calls or goes in whenever you feel something’s off. Always push for the extra tests and scans you need to feel at ease. Worst case scenario they find something wrong and you can try to save your baby or yourself. But hopefully everything is fine and you can go back to being blissful and excited about the miracle growing inside of you. All I want is for you to be able to bring home a healthy baby, so I don’t recommend putting blind faith in your medical team. They can be busy, overwhelmed with clients and confined to what they can offer through routine healthcare based on the rates insurance companies pay them, so it’s up to you to be your own advocate and more importantly to be your unborn baby’s voice. I don’t know if any of what I’m saying would have saved my baby boy, but I feel in my heart that it could help you. Please try not to stress, but be an active participant in your prenatal care. I pray that you will have no complications and enjoy every second of this miraculous process. And please, if you have a healthy baby at the end, know how blessed you truly are and treasure that little life!

Praying for all of you and cheering on every mom out there fighting for their baby’s survival through a high risk pregnancy. You are my sisters and my heroes.

-Ana

Missing You Still

Sometimes others have better ways of communicating how we feel. The documentary “Jacob” by Shawn Lovering did just that for me today. Watching the imagery of a mother walking aimlessly, searching for her son who also wanders alone through golden fields captures my heart’s constant search for my little boy as the days go by. Nothing about time helps to end our grief. Where there was love there will always be a feeling of loss and an aching urge to see them again. Especially with it being a year after our son’s original due date, I can tell you that some days it may get easier to live with the weight of that sorrow but it never truly goes away. Thinking of my sweet boy Owen, today, and always. ???? 

You can watch Shawn Lovering’s short but meaningful documentary here: Jacob

And while you’re here, could you please help us with these issues that are so important to grieving parents by signing this petition created by another angel mom? It takes only a second & means so much to us. Thank you! Click, sign & share: Petition to protect viable fetus rights