PTSD

Clara is the same size now as Lily when Lily passed away. (Actually Clara's a little bigger.) It's odd for me to think that Clara is only 4 weeks old and already surpassing her littler (in growth) sister.

Most people comment on how large their kids are when a new baby comes. Instead, Clara is huge comparatively.

Last night was new baby difficult. Staying up until 3am, needing cuddles. I finally fell asleep next to Clara. She wears an Owlet to bed, the Owlet is the only reason I can sleep at all. (Owlet is a heart rate/oxygen monitoring device.)

I awoke with my alarm and turned to see Clara asleep. She looked in sleep like Lily dead. I freaked out. Despite the Owlet's green light gently telling me that everything is okay... I immediately woke my daughter, checked her breathing myself. She giggled softly and went right back to sleep.

Baby Clara

For the past 2.5 weeks I've been getting contractions. But every time they started becoming regular anxiety would start and the contractions would quit! On July 29th (Mine and Andrew's 12th anniversary) my contractions were 5 minutes apart for 2 hours. We got ready for the hospital...then they quit again!

Fast Forward to August 3rd.

Andrew's mom came over to watch the kids. Andrew and I had woken up around 6:15am. Everything we needed was in the car, we drove to the hospital, checked in about 7am and walked up the stairs to labor and delivery. The nurses took me to room 238. A lovely room with a beautiful view of the mountains. My nurse called my OBGYN as I was scheduled for induction.

A few minutes later she came back to inform me that no one from my OBGYN office was scheduled to be at Mountain Point Medical (the hospital) that morning. An oversight on the OBGYN office...aka...oops! Also, the only doctor on call at the other hospital was in the middle of a c-section and wouldn't be able to come for several hours, also, she couldn't start the pitocin because I had a prior c-section. I responded, "Oh, okay we can go out for breakfast then!" The nurse replied, "Yeah, you could go to Kneaders."

I pulled out the camera, asked Andrew to take one last picture of pregnant me. The camera flashed "No room on memory card." For the record, we had transferred everything from the memory card to our computer several days ago and thought that we had wiped the memory card but since after seeing the no room on memory card, we both questioned if we had transferred everything correctly, plus all the pictures on the camera were of Lily.

We left the hospital, my right wrist carrying my hospital bracelets, and drove to Target where we purchased a new memory card for the camera, a few treats (baby meat sticks--weird but I like them.), and baby bottles with a bottle brush.

Then we drove to Kneaders, I requested a breakfast croissant (sausage, egg, cheese), Andrew bought french toast (strawberries, cream) and we also bought 4 fruit tarts.

We drove back to the hospital, much to the relief of our nurse who was worried we wouldn't be back in time. I left 3 of the tarts with the nurses and we went back to our room.

We ate breakfast, enjoyed the sunrise.

A nurse came in to start my IV and blew out my vein on my left hand. The epidural tech came in and started an IV on my right hand. Dr. Bean came in and apologized for the oversight of hospital staff. He said, "It actually would have been better for us to have you come tomorrow." I replied, "We can come tomorrow." (I really wouldn't have minded.) Dr. Bean replied, "No, you already have an IV, and I'm here until you deliver. Everyone at AF hospital has to wait to be induced until your baby is here."

Pitocin started. The nurse suddenly realized that I was strep B  positive, she left to get antibiotics (which you're supposed to have 4 hours before delivery). I was already in transitional labor. The contractions were hard and fast. I grabbed Andrew's hand. The nurse turned down the pitocin but my body was ready to go. The contractions were 2 minutes apart. I asked for an epidural. The contractions were 1 minute apart. The epidural dude arrived and had the epidural in quick. The nurse checked me, I was dialated to 8.5."I think were going to have a baby soon." My nurse said and then quickly ran off and brought back all the doctors tools. As she laid them out on the table the epidural dude shot my line with a concentrated dose as the minor dose hadn't started yet. Dr. Bean dressed in a delivery gown over by the door. "Do you feel the need to push?" he asked. I replied, "No, the epidural is too strong, you'll have to tell me when to push." "Okay. Next contraction then."

I was actually surprised, had I realized that I was that close, I probably would've gone without an epidural...maybe.

Four rounds of pushing, "I see dark hair." - Dr. Bean, and a hardy cry filled the room. I had had the epidural less than 10 minutes. The antibiotic had been in me for 20 minutes. Andrew tells me that the umbilical cord was wrapped loosely around our baby's arm or leg, but he doesn't remember which.

I didn't tear. There were no complications. Dr. Bean said, "No tearing, nothing, why am I here!"

Clara was placed on my chest, she immediately started rooting. I let her nurse for an hour. Another nurse asked if I was okay giving a bottle. "My milk's not in yet! Of course she can have a bottle." ("I like that," the nurse replied, "You're realistic.") Andrew fed Clara a bottle, she downed 35ml and at less than 2 hours old. They hooked her up to a pulse ox, she was slightly purple, but her numbers checked out perfectly. It took awhile to rub all the vernix from her body, she had some leftover in her hair that was washed out the following day.

Clara River Rosenvall
12:40pm (From start of IV to birth was 1 hour 40 minutes)
8 lbs 14 ounces
19 3/4 inches long

This is different...

I have always delivered early. In fact, this new one (spoiler alert... I'm pregnant) threatened to arrive 7 weeks early. Now, I find myself having had contractions for 2 weeks, dialated at 4, 100% effaced...and still pregnant?

I imagine she's talking with Lily.  They are taking their time.

The Dreamers and You

Reading facebook posts of parents happily delighting their children with St. Patrick's Day merriment, chocolate coins, and rainbows is....

I can tell that I'm seeing other peoples worlds through rose colored glasses.

I too am guilty of the ever present "Prozac posts".

I like real life posts too, but most people won't post:

"I hate you mom."

"Nothing will ever EVER make it better!"

"They did it and its not my fault that I left it out! I was going to pick it up later!"

I suppose some experienced parents say that those statements mean I'm doing something right? They just remind me how awful I am...depression is real people.

This past week we received an unusual request-a purchase of our home despite it not being for sale. The offer, though good, is enough to let us entertain the actual idea of moving. (But we haven't signed anything, so neighbors rein in your horses, you haven't gotten rid of us yet.)

It has unfortunately added unexpected stress to my family.

The stress of looking for a potential new house, possibly packing all we own and moving, grief from losing Lily is still raw, the new tiny coming in July/August (shocker!... whatever, I know I can't hide it anymore.).

Andrew donated blood today for a friend of ours. (It's a blood-donation fundraiser for their daughter who made it through chemo successfully.)  Andrew was happy to donate. In the midst of it, a pulse oximeter alarm blared. PTSD raised my husbands heart rate and he filled his donation bag in less than 5 minutes.

S & M like the idea of moving. J wants a bedroom without the twins in it. (I don't blame him... We have 4 boys in one room, and the room is small... Yes, we know we need to move.) D is dealing with his own aggression. P has been retracting with pottytraining. (He's been fully trained for over 6 months!)

I attended a temple session today. (I wanted to invite someone to go with me, but depression retched into my thoughts and I went alone. I should've invited someone...) The temple makes me happy. I feel closer to God and Lily when I'm there. I'm reminded of Eternal purposes and my life feels better on track.

Today (while in the temple) I felt that we're trying too hard to find a new house. That things will fall into place. That somewhere, someone has the key to where we go next and that I need to continue doing stress-free activities with my family, keep my house in order, my children safe, and to continue using happy funds.

Happy funds- our way of bringing a little bit of joy to a family who lost a precious tiny. Tonight we bought doughnuts, played at the park, and didn't give any thought of worry to our futures.

I'm going to eat my cream filled Bismarck.

Happy Thanksgiving

Yesterday (Thanksgiving) was the 5 month anniversary of Lily's passing. I doubt anyone knew, but every 24th of the month rests heavy on my heart. As December approaches I find myself apprehensive. Stores are becoming more delightfully decorated with Christmas. Twinkly lights, trees, carols in the radio, all lovely things that remind us of our Savior's birth, and remind me of my Lily's life.

I am not looking forward to this next month, and I know that my blog is a mixture of depression and hope at the moment. I won't apologize for it. I'm grieving. Grief has lows and highs.

Next month there will be several days that I probably will struggle with...

On Dec 19th Lily will have been gone the same number of days as she was alive.
Dec 24th (yeah...Christmas Eve), will be the 6th month anniversary of her passing.
Dec 25th (Christmas), Lily's Due Date last year.
Dec 30th, Lily's 1st Birthday.

Doomsayers will probably tell me "You're only causing your own problems by telling yourself those days will be hard, thus, if those days are hard it's your own fault."

To them I say... "You don't understand grief." (I could say more, but I was raised to be polite.)

If I happen to look depressed. In fact if anyone around you recently lost a loved one... and they look depressed, or sad, or unhappy, or tired.

Do. Not. Say. : "You look tired." "Why aren't you smiling." "You look sad." "Ugly, ugly face." "What's a matter, grumpy?" "You look grim."

I understand these comments are made because well intentioned people want to help...but if you do this you are only adding to the depression.

Instead please.... Ask them to play a game, or do a task and DON'T comment on their depressed state.

If I want to talk, I'll bring it up.

....Otherwise remember what your mother should have taught you....

"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

Christmas Decorations

I pulled out my box of Halloween decorations. Vampire teddy bears, bats and a fuzzy spider were delightfully placed on the piano... until my twins excitedly found them. I hung up my Halloween wreath, put the mini tombstones back in the box, to macabre for me. Then I pulled out my favorite purple and orange twinkly lights. I happily strung them over my front door, plugged them in and electrically shocked myself...(apparently saying that I 'electrocuted myself' means that I died, thankfully I'm alive.) they were immediately removed and tossed in the trash. I really liked those lights, but they were old, my fault that I shocked myself.

Then today, as I was walking through Home Depot I decided to see if they had any orange and purple Halloween lights to replace my beloved ones that nearly killed me. Apparently all the Halloween lights this year have been replaced with strings of 'ultra light wire'. It's a string of lights with a barely visible wire. I want more distance between the live wire and my fingers, thank you.

Which is why I found myself in the Christmas aisle. Brightly colored decorations, hanging ornaments, twinkly lights, Christmas trees with tinsel, Santa Claus, Nativity Scenes.

Lily was due on Christmas Day.

Hope

My brother's son passed away last week. It was unexpected and sudden. For Andrew & I it brought back memories of Lily in full force.

Despite knowing that Lily was going to pass away, that her little digestive system had shut down, that she couldn't have heart surgery (pulmonary hypertension sucks) and was receiving all the medical care we could provide without success. Even hearing her monitors blaring from her failing oxygen, even though it was maxed out too... We had hope.

Hope that she would be with us another day, another hour, another second.

Hope that she would live. That we would be greeted by her smiles even if that was all she ever did. We had hope.

I could hear that same hope as my mom related to me the information from my brother regarding his son. I could hear the hope. One more day. One more hour. One more second.

The hope of a loved one remains after death, however the hope changes. As we, Earthly beings are left behind hope remains with us as a steadfast reminder of Eternity. The hope that we will see our loved one again. That we will be reunited with them. To greet them whole and perfect and to be able to raise those young children whom we lost too soon.

Tonight I read to the kids from Mosiah chapter 13. Specifially these chapters regard Abinadi.

"8 Yea, and my words fill you with wonder and amazement, and with anger.
9 But I finish my message; and then it matters not whither I go, if it so be that I am saved."

Abinadi is referring to court and people of the wicked King Noah, who on hearing Abinadi was there to preach the gospel to his people, ordered Abinadi to be slain. Yet, Abinadi warns the people that he cannot be touched or harmed until he delivers the message God commanded him to deliver. He recognizes that the people may be "filled with wonder, amazement" or even "anger".

It is the same with grief.

Grief fills you with wonder about Heaven, is it real? Can I go there? Will my loved ones be there?

Amazement. There is a joyous side to grief which is hard to explain. It is the amazement of feeling Gods love and support for us during this difficult time. It is also the joy emanating from our loves one whom we lost reasurring us that Heaven is real, that God does command Heaven, that his plan is perfect. If we could only step into the next room we would be able to behold out dear ones fulfilling God's work for the completion of His plan of happiness.

Lastly, anger. Anger can be righteous. When Jesus Christ the Lord threw the people out of the temple who were using it incorrectly, he was exercising righteous anger. If we use our anger from grief as a reminder to keep ourselves worthy for temple and heavenly blessings, then I can understand its worth. But if we use anger to be hardened towards God then it is incorrect.

I know that the verses in Mosiah weren't talking of grief. Yet, that is the lesson I needed to hear tonight. It's my own interpretation. Don't read into it as truth. The Lord speaks to our hearts individually for what we need to hear.

As Abinadi spoke to the people of Noah, the Lord did protect him so that His message could be delivered.

Lily before she passed away brought a spirit of great peace to all who met her. Days before her passing each of my children unprompted sang to her primary songs. Lily helped them know and feel the spirit. She taught them what it means to have guidance from the holy ghost.

Days before my nephew passed away, he too in his own way shared the gospel with those whom he came in contact.

What an amazing mission these sweet souls completed here on Earth. I look forward to hearing about their Spirit realm missions.

May God be with you, till we meet again.