Pushing to end preventable stillbirth in memory of Owen Nathaniel Vick
A tiny butterfly flutters down from above
As I tend to your garden expressing my love
Near in spirit or alive in momma’s heart
No distance nor passage of time can keep us apart
Little darling, I see every sign
Sweet baby, you will always be mine
3/14/17
Feeling little flutters of movement since week 8 or 9 when I’m laying down, meditating or resting. Could it be our little sweet pea?? It’s a bit earlier than most people feel the movements, but it’s my 5th pregnancy and I feel very connected to this little one. So in love with our baby and hopeful that all will be well.
3/19/17
Had what felt like round ligament pain (in groin area; tmi but I keep specific notes for my doctors) while standing waiting for the elevator after having dinner and watching a movie. Not too severe and was ok in car. Went away after we got out of the shower and laid down for bed. (Of course I was taking notes of every random occurrence because you never know what it may mean.)
9/8/17
My fluid level was 6.5 today at my apt. (low but not critical), so I have been admitted for monitoring and to have fluids by IV. Feeling relieved to be staying to be monitored though getting that news was extremely unnerving. If fluids increase Dr. Tabsh will send me home, but if not they have doctors here that can deliver Jax at anytime, so I was glad to be able to stay under their watchful care.
I was crying a lot in my appointment. I was so scared because Doctor T. was quiet for a while and then called the nurse in, which usually means he’s going to deliver bad news. So I almost had a heart-attack and asked him if there’s something wrong. He said “oh no, no, I wouldn’t call them in if there was something wrong”. (And he chuckled, not knowing I was petrified.) I think he thought I was saying he needed help to do a simple ultrasound, but I was remembering how he called a second person in the room when something was wrong in the past (and we were having a missed miscarriage), so that’s why I freaked out thinking once again we were going to be told there was a problem with our baby.
After I calmed down, Josh took Naomi and Aunt Donna home. I’m in a shared room (with a newborn baby crying) until I finish eating and then they’ll hopefully have a private room available for me. Those newborn whimpers are sweet, but making me a little anxious. I pray Jax is born healthy and strong so I can hear his cries too!
9/7/17
This week I dreamt about being pregnant for the first time. I was at the hospital and a doctor came in to see me, but couldn’t find my chart. I told her I wasn’t in my room. It seemed I had been there for a while and was just wandering around passing the time. Suddenly I felt like my water had broken and I told her to look at my stomach because you could see Jax’s little fist pushing out in my stomach and I said he must be ready to come out. He apparently had kicked so hard her broke my water. Next thing you know I was with my family lighting candles for the baby and they looked like day of the dead sugar skulls. The big one was for Owen and it was burning like a sparkler. I wanted to take a picture, but everyone kept blowing theirs out before I could. I kept relighting them and asked Karen to pray for the baby. She was complaining that she doesn’t usually pray aloud. I then tried to get us all together for a picture (it seemed like we were all sitting in a long van). Aunt Donna was in the back with Naomi and I asked her to sit on the side because she was holding a big bouquet of balloons that were blocking Naomi. Finally Josh came in but was in front of everyone and I was getting flustered and said ok sit down lower let’s get this picture so I can go have this baby now. Then I woke up!
I’ve been having anxiety over my water breaking and having to rush to the hospital to deliver before my c section so I imagine that’s what this dream was about. My night sleep has been very disrupted and difficult as I worry most at nights and wake up freaking out to check that Jax is still ok. I wake him up often to make sure. It’s so hard but I’m trying to trust and have faith that everything’s going to be ok. I’m keeping myself busy with any last minute errands I can do. Just praying the next 16 days fly by and we can hold our healthy little baby soon!
9/6/17
Just woke up feeling like I was about to lose my plug or water was breaking. I was so freaked out. I hurried to the bathroom, but there was nothing coming out at all. I peed then laid down only to feel my stress level rising wondering if Jax was okay and trying to wake him up by gently squeezing my belly until he moved. Poor baby, he was surely asleep, but like a good boy woke up and gave me a few reassuring movements. I’m up like this every night, almost every hour or two. It’s horrible because I can’t handle the fear at night. During the day I can keep track of his movements and thus do not worry as much, but at night the minute I realize I’m asleep and I wake back up the dread strikes me again until I feel him move. I wish my doctor would deliver Jax now. I know he’s healthy and strong and I feel he’ll do just fine if he is delivered early, but I can’t say I feel confident he’ll be okay if we keep waiting for the c section date they gave us (9/23). Either I want him delivered ASAP or to be kept at the hospital to be monitored until they do. I just can’t keep carrying all this responsibility on my shoulders myself. It’s so scary because Owen was fine one moment and then he wasn’t, so I get so worried I may miss the moment when Jax may need to come out like his brother. I would hate to be kept in the hospital for a long time because then Naomi will miss me, but her dad and Aunt Donna are able to take care of her and I think we need this for my sanity and to keep Jax safe. I’m going to call tomorrow to try to see what the doctor will do for us. It’s just too much for me now and I’m sure it’s not healthy for Jax either to be constantly feeling my stress and be woken up all night. Praying he will be okay until we can deliver him. All I want is my healthy baby boy in my arms, alive and well.
8/8/17
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.
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. ????
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
Red, bright red
Goodbye rings in my head
Red, white & blue
Happy 4th to you
Pain, real & deep
A life I couldn’t keep
Freedom from fear
Hope & love live here
For our sweet Avery. You had only 6 short weeks of life in my womb yet we love you as much as the stars love the night sky. This pregnancy after losing Owen (& Jordan before him) was so bright & full of hope; I am thankful for every second that I got to carry you. Goodbye is just so long for now; I know we’ll be reunited in Heaven one day.
Missing You & Loving You Always, Your Mommy
“If there ever comes a day when we can’t be together, keep me in your heart, I’ll stay there forever” – Winnie the Pooh
It’s midnight, July 4th. Somehow I knew today could be the day I started cramping. My babies like to choose special days for their big moments.
Naomi, after 18 months without one prior attempt to walk chose to start on New Years Eve. Unfortunately I was working and missed her first steps, but we all thought she surely chose the day to make it extra special. Whenever we countdown to the start of another year, I still reminisce about that day and what a blessing it is to see how much she has grown since then. Raising you, our sweet girl, is our greatest privelage and watching you reach new milestones keeps us amazed at how perfectly God made you. You give us so much happiness and we are so proud to be your parents.
We sadly miscarried our next baby, Jordan, the week of my best friend Toni’s birthday. Though the pregnancy didn’t last long, we had so much joy in those few weeks with Jordan, so it seems fitting that our beloved baby’s Angelversary week is shared with my most effervescent and impassioned friend. Knowing Toni, her birthday week will always be an exciting and fun-filled time. I’ll always picture Jordan dancing in the clouds amongst the twinkling lights of the night sky when Tia Toni is out partying on her birthday. Jordan, you were our very much wanted second child and we wish you could’ve stayed with us. But keep dancing my baby, we will join you one day.
Then, attempting to save him, at almost 32 weeks gestation we had to deliver our son Owen via a crash/emergency C-section on one of his Grandpa’s birthdays. We would never forget the day he was born and went to Heaven, but sharing Grandpa Vick’s birthday makes this day even more special. My birthday is the day after my dad’s and we always loved celebrating it together, so it makes me happy to know that when we celebrate Grandpa Vick, we are also celebrating our sweet angel Owen. We miss you dearly baby boy and when Grandpa blows out his candles, we’ll remember the light you brought to our lives; Much too brief but still so incredibly bright and beautiful.
And now we’ve been waiting for two agonizing weeks since we found out our baby Avery had stopped growing at our first ultrasound. We were shocked and heartbroken to be told that we were having a missed miscarriage, but I was determined to avoid a D&C or medication to end the pregnancy. I hadn’t had any cramping or bleeding though, so I was getting anxious it might never happen naturally. But of course Avery waited for the 4th of July to start letting go of mommy. Sitting on the toilet waiting to pass clots with extreme cramps and a heat pad on my abdomen isn’t really my idea of July 4th fun. But then again, this wouldn’t be my baby if it was an ordinary day.
You think it’s because my babies know I have the worst memory ever? No, I would never forget your special days my precious children. But it makes me smile to think that they know their momma and are just trying to help me remember. Each of their days carries so much emotion and I know that though others are celebrating and thinking about the typical meaning behind these days, I’m focused on my babies and what it means to us.
The Fourth of July is a day I’ll always love and cherish; Not just because it commemorates our freedom, but now also because it marks the day Avery finally decided it was ok to physically leave his Earthly home and continue to rest in peace in Heaven. I cherish the memories we made with you: Surprising Daddy with a “bun in the oven” and seeing his thrilled reaction, taking bump pictures in a new dress I bought for that purpose, watching Naomi and Daddy joyfully give you sweet kisses and talk to you through my belly though you were probably still too small to hear them, and even writing about you in a cute pregnancy journal, trying not to let my anxiety overshadow my excitement. We’ll see you one day our little firecracker and will remember you always, especially at the explosion of every firework. Just like them, your stay was short but oh so brilliant and marvelous.
Until we see you in Heaven, Avery, keep shining bright with your siblings, Owen and Jordan. We love you all as much as we love your sister Naomi who brightens up our darkest days and brings light to every moment of our lives.