my journey through the loss of my first son and the life of my second

Friday, December 31, 2010

trent's story

I wrote the story of his short life just a few days after he was born...

I re-wrote it around the six month mark...

Today I will repost it ...

One year ago today I was admitted to the hospital and told we would wait on the end...
I have been married to the man of my dreams since December 10, 2005. We met on a blind date and had a whirl wind romance. We married six months after that fist date. I was diagnosed with PCOS when I was 18. I told Ken before we got married that we may never have kids of our own. But, we started trying to conceive right away. After four years of fertility meds and nothing we opted for adoption. We were working our way through all the courses and paperwork when in September of 2009 I took a pregnancy test that would forever change our lives. I was so excited to be pregnant. I never thought I would ever carry my own. Ken was overjoyed. We called all our family right away. I had an early ultrasound done because I could not remember when my last period was. I was 7 weeks and 5 days pregnant. And, the journey began.

The pregnancy was good, healthy, uneventful. All of my tests and blood work had come back normal the entire time. The ultrasounds had all looked perfect. We found out on December 21st we were having a little boy. We would name him, Trenton James. He would be our everything.

In December 2009 Ken and I flew to Florida to visit my family for Christmas. I was so excited for them to see my pregnant belly and see my sister, Cassie, all big and pregnant. We were pregnant together. She was a few months ahead of me. We would talk almost daily about pregnancy stuff...how tired we were, how smells made us sick, how to cope with morning sickness, and more than anything how amazing it would be to watch our kids grow up together in this world.

On our flight to Orlando the seat belt would not fit around my pregnant belly. I had to ask for an extender...which is embarrassing but, really I was proud of that pregnant belly. I was proud that I was growing our future. I was so excited that my belly would continue to grow. I was excited our miracle was just under my skin.

When we arrived in Orlando my sisters and Mom all greeted us.

We celebrated Christmas.

My mom drove us back to the airport on December 29th. I had booked the room for us (Ken ALWAYS makes our travel arrangements) When we got to the front desk to check in the guy looked at me like I was crazy. Our reservations were for the next night. I was a little confused and we got to the airport a day early. So, we just stayed at the hotel for two nights...enjoying the peace and quiet...

On the morning of the 30th we got up and had breakfast. I was feeling awful that day. I just thought it was normal pregnancy stuff. I was 21 weeks and 2 days pregnant. All throughout the day I was having heavy discharge. I thought it was normal. I would soon find out it was my cervix dialating. The morning of our flight we were up at 3:45 to catch our early flight. I could barely walk I was so dizzy. I lost my mucus plug in the room (although I had NO idea that was what it was...but, boy was it nasty) We checked out of the hotel and headed to the gate to check our bags. I couldn't even see straight I was feeling so bad. I thought maybe I just needed to eat. I had a banana left from the day before and ate that while I sat on the floor in line for our bags to get checked in. As we headed to the security line I felt like the airport was 110 degrees. I was sweating and swaying. The line was so very long. I thought I was going to collapase at any minute. Once we finally made it through security Ken could see that i was looking worse and worse. He left me on a bench to get me a drink and bagel. I ate it and felt just as bad. We were sitting at the gate. The called for boarding...I of course ran to the bathroom (hello, I was pregnant) As I pulled down my pants that early New Year's Eve morning...my whole life changed...

I couldn't even go...I pulled my pants up and ran out to Ken. I was crying. I knew something had to be very wrong. I was covered in blood. I called my mom. It was 4:45 am at this point. She said call my OB. I did. He told me to get to the ER and not get on the plane. I really didn't want to do that. I debated with myself for a few minutes. Because we had gotten to the airport two days early we had upgraded to first class. My husband adores flying in first class. I didn't want to disappoint him. But, I knew, for Trent, I had to go to the hospital. The gate agent called 911...the ambulance came for me on the tarmac...they strapped me to the bed and whisked me to a private elevator and back onto the tarmac. Ken was right beside me. I was so scared. I had no idea what was going on. Our bags flew back to Dallas without us. Our first class seats sat empty. Our lives were falling apart. I told Ken to call our parents. He did. We arrived at Winnie Palmer Hospital in Orlando. We were placed in the triage room.

I was first examined by a nurse. As she my checked me...she stopped before she even really started. She said, "Umh, I have to get a doctor in here." Oh my heart was beating so fast, tears had not stopped flowing. I couldn't even imagine what was coming next. The doctor came in shortly after and checked me. She said I had bulging membranes. I had no idea what that was (although I would soon be an expert in a matter of days). The whole time I kept saying "I can't lose him, I can't lose him, I can't lose him." And her answer was, "well, sometimes it happens this way." WHAT WAY??? WHAT DID SHE MEAN?? WAS HE NOT COMING HOME? WAS HE NOT GOING TO MAKE IT? She didn't tell me anything about it just said they had to get me to the perinatoligist right away. They placed my IV, undressed me the rest of the way, and started wheeling me down the hall. Ken called our parents back and let them know it was not looking good. My parents started the two hour ride over to the hospital and Ken's parents booked tickets from Missouri to Orlando.

We were both so scared. The nurses rolled us into an ultrasound room. The perinatologist came in to do our ultrasound. Trent was perfect. He was swimming around, having the time of his life. He was just as happy as could be, I could feel him kicking me. (In the months after we lost him Ken has told me the hardest part for him was this last ultrasound. There was our son on the screen...perfect, happy, safe. He didn't know what was coming. He didn't know it was all going to be over so fast.) His heart rate was good. He was fine...but, my body was not. The doctor pulled the wand away from my belly and did one more internal exam. They would not let me sit up or stand up. She told us my prognsis. She said I was dilated to a 6, which for a baby the size of Trent, was fully dilated. She said my cervix had fallen apart. She called it an incompetent cervix (a term I had never heard). She told me we didn't have much time or many options. She said that had I gotten here sooner they could have placed an emergant cerclage that could have held him in. Because my cervix was so far gone there was no hope. She said my only option is to do an amnioscentisis and drain all fluid from around him. She said this may retract my bag enough to place a cerclage. She told me that on the ultrasound she could see his little foot in the birth canal. She said she had never seen a woman with membranes hanging this far out and still be pregnant 24 hours later. I was sobbing, I was in shock, I could not believe this was happening to me. I asked what next? Ken was holding my hand through the whole thing. She told me I was going to be admitted to the hospital. She told me I was going to be on the highrisk floor. She told me I would deliver this baby in the next 24 hours. I just could not believe it. The staff rolled me into the elevator and took me to my room. The IV was hooked up to a pump for pain meds. The nurses were taking all my stats. They called my OB to get my medical records. Our families were in route. When my parents arrived one of the "head" doctors came to see us. He explained my diagnosis. He told us why my membranes were bulging. He told us that I would have my son within 24 hours and his chance of survival at this stage were zero. I was 21weeks and 3 days. I cried and cried. I was shaking. I couldn't even understand the words he had just told me. My parents were already in the room with us. My mom was sobbing so very hard. Our lives were never going to be the same. My dad asked what the likely hood would be that I would not deliver, the doctor told us 1%. I was devastated. Ken called everyone we knew and my mom called every one else. We were added to hundreds of people's prayer lists. I was so scared.

24 hours later I was still there, still pregnant, and starting to be filled with hope. I was placed on retraction medications, something to keep labor at bay, and told I could not get out of my bed. My in-laws had arrived. My parents were still there...but, we had made it bast the 24 hour mark. As the days continued I prayed that God would let me take this baby boy home. I prayed that I would lay in this hospital bed for weeks and weeks. I prayed for any sign of hope. The doctors checked on me daily. After I passed the 72 hour mark they started to treat Trent like a patient too. They told me I had to make it to 24 weeks to be viable. My biggest risk at this point was infection. Because my bag was hanging so very low in my birth canal it was being exposed to all kinds of things.

As the days past my family visited, Ken's mom didn't leave my side, and hundreds of emails and messages on Facebook were rolling in. People all over the place were praying for my little family. People were hoping for the same miracle I was hoping for. I felt like the world was on my side. But, in the very back of my mind I knew I would let them all down. I knew I was not bringing him home. I tried to stay positive. I tried to smile. But, I was so scared. My IV kept falling out or leaking so they kept replacing it. They had to bring in an ultrasound machine to find my veins. Each person that came in my room would cry with me, or pray with me, or just sit and listen. The staff was amazing.

After a few days of being in ICU the nurses told me the doctors were moving me to the 5th floor. The 5th floor were for women on bedrest. It was for women who were waiting out the weeks. It was for women like me...who had beat the odds. With this news it was decided Ken would fly home and go back to work. He would fly in every weekend to see me. His mom stayed with me. My sisters kept visiting. My mom would come and cry with me. Ken flew out early the morning they were moving me to the 5th floor. Little did I know I was already having contractions when he left. I thought it was Trent kicking. Around noon that day I had a pretty big contraction. Ken's mom wrote down the time. The nurses added some new meds to my IV. The contractions continued throughout the afternoon. I was on the 5th floor...a floor with hope. They continued the meds all afternoon. My mom and youngest sister came to join me for dinner. I could not sit up for anything, not even to eat. As we ate dinner my contractions grew stronger and stronger and closer and closer. I didn't want to tell anyone. I didn't want to believe it was true. But, finally they were so bad I was yelling in pain. My mom called a nurse in. She checked me and I was immediately moved to L&D. I was screaming all down the hall, "No, not yet! He isn't supposed to come yet!" I was 22 weeks and 1 day pregnant. Ken's mom came back, Ken booked a flight back to Florida. I was in full, active labor. They moved me to L&D at 6pm. My contractions continued for hours without any help from the doctors. Because I was so early in the pregnancy they would give me no drugs to help with pain. As the night progressed the room was more and more filled with an awful odor. I was so embarrassed. I had been in the hospital for 5 or 6 days with no bath. When a doctor came in to check me around 2am he moved the sheet back and kind of just stopped. He ordered blood taken. He gave me an internal. The blood work came back an hour later. He was back in my room. The contractions had not stopped but he finally gave me some morphine (which made me throw up). He told me to get my husband on the phone. Ken's mom dialed him so he could hear what the doctor was saying. The doctor explained that I was very sick. I had contracted an infection in my uterus. This is what brought on labor. He told us that Trent would have 0% chance of survival because of the infection. He would be too sick to make it. He told me that if I didn't let them assist with my labor I would be septic within 6 hours and there would be nothing they could do for me either. He basically was telling us that we had to pick me, Trent, or both of us to die. He told me because I was so early I would have to sign paper work that I was aborting my child. I refused. I would not let them help me if I had to sign those papers. The doctor left the room...the moms were crying, Ken's mom was trying to explain it to him. I was crying and still in labor although the morphine had slowed down the contractions. Ken said not to sign it. I said no. But, both of my moms were telling me I had to. The nurses explained that I would die too if I didn't sign the paper. I said I didn't care. I didn't want to live without him. I was not going to sign anything that said I was aborting him. The infection was growing worse and worse. My temperature was rising. The smell was almost unbearable. My mom kept trying to convince me it was the only way. Ken's mom was on the phone with him trying to make him understand he was going to lose us both, and soon, if I didn't sign. My mom finally said to me, "Honey, you can have another baby, but, we can never have another you." I cried and cried. I WANTED THIS BABY. I was so sick, I was in so much pain. I finally let them assist me in my labor. As soon as I said yes the room was alive with activity. I told them that the only way I would let them do this was if the NICU staff was there to try. I knew there was not much hope. But, I was fighting for his life up until the second it was gone. I would not let them do this if they didn't even try to save him. I would live my whole life in regret if I didn't make them come in. They agreed. My epidural was put in, drugs were hung to speed up contractions, and the end was coming. I asked if I could hear his heartbeat one more time. I asked if they would please hook me up to the monitors. His heartbeat was fast and strong. He was still perfect. He was still fighting. But, mommy had given up. I had surrendered to this awful infection.

As Ken boarded a plane in Texas to come back to Florida I tried to get a little sleep. I couldn't feel anything anymore...anywhere. I knew it was over. They had told me the NICU would try to save him. But, most likely the tubes would not even fit in him. They told me that once they knew that they could not save him they would hand him back to me...I would hold him until he died.

My heart was broken, it was all a nightmare. We waited. My mom's both slept. My little sister slept. I had ask her to take pictures in case Ken didn't make it back in time. She took over 200 and they are one of the best gifts she could ever give us.

At seven in the morning there was a shift change. The nurses came in to tell me about the new staff. They told me that they would take care of us. They assured me the NICU would come after he was born. At around 8: I felt like I needed to push. I knew something was happening. I called the nurse and asked for the doctor. At 8:09 we all heard a pop and my water broke. At 8:10 Trenton James slid into this world with no doctors and no nurses there to catch him. My mom was at the end of the table, I asked, "Is he alive??" She said, "He is moving honey." The NICU nurse was in just seconds later. They picked up my beautiful son and moved him to the crib. They tried but nothing fit. I was yelling at them to try harder. I was crying so hard. The doctors were helping me deliever the placenta. When I saw the head nurse shaking her head I knew it was going to be over so soon. I screamed for them to hand him back to me. I wanted to touch him alive. My mom placed him in my arms. I cried and cried. He held my finger. He opened and closed his mouth. I ripped off my hospital gown so I could feel his skin against mine. Bridget kept snapping pictures, Ken was still in an airplane, and the nurse kept taking his heart beat...both his grandmas held him, Bridget held him, and as they placed him back into my arms the nurse took his heartbeat one last time and told me he had gone home. It was 8:32 am. I told him he didn't have to stay for me. I told him he could go onto heaven. I told him I would be okay. I told him how much daddy loved him. I told him how sorry I was my body had failed him. I kissed him. I loved him. I was broken. Ken arrived shortly after Trent passed. He held his dead son. He cried harder than I have ever seen him cry. They brought me all kinds of papers. I had to sign for an autopsy, for pictures to be taken, for 100 other things I can't remember. They drew more blood. I was very very sick at this point. They hung some powerful antibiotics and said I would be moved back to the ICU for 48 hours to monitor the infection.

They wheeled us all back upstairs. We kept Trent's little body with us all day. I couldn't say goodbye yet. I couldn't let it be over. I took pictures of his daddy holding him. All his aunts and uncles came over from Daytona. My dad and mom were there. Ken's mom had been there the whole night and his dad had booked a flight back in. The entire family was there to meet their nephew, grandson, child...and he was already gone.

The days following were filled with blood tests to see if I was getting better, making funeral arrangements for our son, deciding to bury him or cremate him, picking out his urn, signing for his birth certificate first, and then his death certificate. It was awful. It was something no one should ever live through.

We had his memorial service at the hospital in the chapel. It was beautiful. It was perfect. I had no clothes (as our luggage had flown home without us) I wore PJ's to my son's memorial service. I had no shoes...I wore hospital issued socks to his memorial service. Ken held me and he and I sobbed and sobbed as the scriptures were read, the songs were song, and people hugged us and grieved with us.

It couldn't be true, it couldn't be over. I was discharged after a few more days in ICU. I went home with a memory box full of his clothes and hospital armbands...but, not with him. We stayed at my sisters house for a few days. I didn't know what to do. Finally Ken's mom booked us tickets home.

And, back to the airport we went with...
an empty womb,
empty arms,
and an empty heart.

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

the end is near

One year ago today my mom drove Ken and I to the airport to board a plane back to Texas. Our flight was early in the morning so we were going to spend the night at the Hyatt at the airport. Our flight was Dec 30, 2009...or so I thought. When we got to the hotel to check in the front desk clerk said our reservation was for the night of the 30th not the 29th. Whoops. I got us to the airport a whole day early. Our flight was actually scheduled for Dec 31st. My mom was already home by the time we figured out the mistake. So, we opted to just spend an extra day relaxing at the hotel.

It was the last time the three of us were together with no idea of the pain that was ahead.

Trent was safe, happy, and healthy.

I had no idea it would be his last days alive.

Dec 30th is when I started to dilate...although I had no idea that is what was happening.

These next few days will be hard milestones to cross. The emotions of those days still so raw.

When I think about it all it feels like a lifetime ago and then other moments I feel like I am back there living it all over again.

I miss him.

<3 Trent <3

Tuesday, December 28, 2010

Ian James

That is right...I am pregnant with my second SON!!

Ian means God is gracious. I think it is such a perfect name for a baby that is born after a loss...our Gracious God providing us another miracle.

James is his big brother's middle name. We had thought of a few other names but, at the last minute thought it would be nice to honor Trent in this way.

So...my first born Trenton James will have a little brother Ian James.

I am excited at the oppurtunity to raise a son. My heart is full of love for this little wiggle worm! (He doesn't stop moving very often!! And, today at the ultrasound the tech had a hard time getting good pictures because he just kept wiggling!)

Healing is a funny thing...grief is even stranger.

There are some who feel like I should be "better" now. I am pregnant again...I guess that means I am cured of the grief. Wrong. I will never be "healed" of the pain of watching my first born die in my arms. The sorrow of that truth will never go away. Time does NOT heal all wounds. Some never go away. But, the joy of this second miracle is good for the healing.

I was laying in bed tonight (trying to sleep but this crazy rash that is covering my body is keeping me awake) thinking about what most moms pregnant with their second worry about. I was thinking about how nice it would be if my fears were how will I handle two little boys at once? How will I potty train one and keep up with diapers on the other? How will I make sure they both have everything they need? The "normal" thoughts while pregnant with your second. I started thinking how fun it would be to watch Trent be a big brother. I would love to see him kiss Ian's little face, love on him, tell him the "meaning of life." I thought of what it would be like to have Trent convince Ian that monsters really do live in the closet and then daddy having to go in to the rescue. I thought of the times the three of them would wrestle. I thought of the family pictures with my three boys and mommy. I thought of Ian wanting to be just like his big brother. But, I will never see those things.

As a mommy to one son in heaven and on on the way my worries are much different. I worry about how to make Ian's life about Ian and not about trying to fill Trent's empty shoes. I worry about making Ian special for being Ian...not for being the baby that "replaced" Trent. I worry about explaining to him what it means to have a brother in heaven. I worry about the tears I will shed when he comes home because I will always be missing one of my boys.

I worry about making it to a stage in pregnancy where this little sweetie can make it outside of my womb. Here are the dates we are going to pray Ian too....okay??

Saturday February 4th - 22weeks1day pregnant - this will be the most pregnant I will have ever been as I gave birth to Trent at 22 weeks. I need to get here next. I think I will breath a little easier knowing my cerclage is working!

Friday February 18th - 24 weeks - viability! - I really really do not want Ian born at 24 weeks...but, this "magic" week means he is viable outside of the womb (with only a 30% chance of survival)

Friday April 1st - 30 weeks - he may spend some time in the NICU but the chance of him coming home is HUGE!! I think when I make 30 weeks I will start to believe that this little guy is going to come home with me one day!

Friday May 20th - 36 weeks - if we go this far my cerclage will be removed and I will have a baby SOON!!

So, let's start praying for Feb 4th! I need to make it past the point that Trent died for my own sanity!!

Saturday, December 25, 2010

survival

I think I have learned to survive. Most days. There are still moments when it would be easier to give up. There are moments when I can't figure out why I even try to survive. And, then this second miracle inside me kicks, squirms, or I get to hear the heart beat. I am blessed.

I survived my 1st Christmas without my son. It was actually a beautiful day spent with my darling husband. We woke up, opened presents, ate a big breakfast, and just enjoyed each others company all day. I was reminded how lucky I am to call him my husband. I thought many times of how much more fun it would have been to have Trent with us. But, today was for us. We didn't go to any family members house, we didn't travel on a fancy vacation, we stayed in our pj's all day...and I loved it.

This week marks a year from when the beginning of the end started to unfold.

We flew to Florida a year ago yesterday...

I was admitted to the hospital while on that trip...

We meet and said goodbye to our son during that "vacation"...

These next few weeks will be hard.

One year ago today I was blissfully unaware that babies die.

I hope and pray that a year from today I will be aware that babies live too.

Friday, December 24, 2010

merry christmas

Merry Christmas in Heaven my sweet boy...

I am not sure how much I can "celebrate" this year without you...

To all Angel Mommies...

written by a boy who died of a brian tumor

My First Christmas in Heaven

I see the countless
Christmas trees
around the world below
With tiny lights, like Heaven's stars,
reflecting on the snow

The sight is so spectacular,
please wipe away the tear
For I am spending Christmas with
Jesus Christ this year.

I hear the many Christmas songs
that people hold so dear
But the sounds of music can't compare
with the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you,
the joy their voices bring,
For it is beyond description,
to hear the angels sing.

I know how much you miss me,
I see the pain inside your heart.
But I am not so far away,
We really aren't apart.

So be happy for me, dear ones,
You know I hold you dear.
And be glad I'm spending Christmas
with Jesus Christ this year.

I sent you each a special gift,
from my heavenly home above.
I sent you each a memory
of my undying love.

After all, love is a gift more precious
than pure gold.
was always most important
the stories Jesus told.

Please love and keep each other,
my Father said to do.
I can't count the blessing or love
has for each of you.

So have a Merry Christmas and
Wipe away that tear
Remember, I am spending Christmas with
Jesus Christ this year

Thursday, December 23, 2010

christmas eve eve

I didn't know life could/would be this hard. I didn't know it would hurt this much. I didn't know my heart could love and hurt so much all at the same time.

I have watched the Lifetime movies and cried as I watch other peoples horrors unfold on the screen. I have cried as I read novels about peoples heart ache and loss. But, to live it...to actually know the pain. It is not something that could be understood.

When I was little I watched the show "Party of Five." I cried at the end of every single episode. It is a story of five kids who are raising them selves. Their parents were killed in a car accident. I am one of six but, while this show was on the air there were only five of us. The thought of losing my parents scared me. The idea that I would never ever see them again. It seemed like the most painful thing I could imagine...I had no idea that losing a child was even possible. The parents are supposed to go first...right??

There was a family that lived up the street from us. They adopted special needs kids. I started college with the idea that I would be a special education teacher. These children amazed me. Their handicaps were hard...but they kept on going. I remember thinking how lucky our family was...six kids and all healthy. Not a birth defect or handicap in the bunch. I didn't know that I was the one. I was the one born with a life-ending defect. I was the one who would later carry the burden of losing a child. I was the one born with a birth defect that would change my heart and soul. There was no way to know it was there. No way to test for it. No way to know...until he died.

My high risk OB has questioned me over and over trying to figure out why I have an incompetent cervix. He told me most of the women he sees with IC have a history of LEEP surgery, D&C's, cone biopsy...some kind of trauma to their cervix. IC is rare....but, from what he tells me...especially rare in a woman who was literally just "born this way."

My heart is beyond broken this Christmas season. I long to hold my son. I want to experience this first Christmas with him...here.

I miss him more than words can explain.

Monday, December 20, 2010

alter universe

In my alter universe I am so very excited for our first Christmas as a family of three!! I have the stockings hung and full! I have bought my son way WAY too many Christmas outfits. I had our family pictures made in October with our sweet boy wearing a "My 1st Christmas" outfit. I have taken him to see Santa and cried while he cried. I have driven him around town night after night looking at all the Christmas lights. In my alter universe I am so anxious that I let him open a gift or two. He is crawling around the tree and Ken and I are constantly changing his course so he doesn't pull it over on himself. In my alter universe I am creating Christmas traditions that will hopefully stay with him until he is an adult.

But, in real life...

I have cried for all I am missing. I have mourned for the 1st Christmas we should be sharing. I have hung ornaments on the tree with his name on them. I have skipped Christmas cards, parties, and even the lights. I have tried to avoid all the holiday cheer I can. I have wrapped no presents with his name on them. I have nothing under the tree for an almost one year old. I ordered no cute clothes for Christmas pictures. I have no idea what the line to see Santa is like at the mall.

It breaks my heart.

And, it is just so very unfair.

Friday, December 17, 2010

a little mixed up

I wish I could explain the feelings I have now. Finally, FINALLY I feel excited about this little life growing inside of me. Yes, I still am guarded. Yes, I still know that history could repeat itself. But, I am finally stitched closed. The thing that lost our precious first born is "fixed." Let's hope and pray that is the only thing it takes to keep this little one with us.

The hospital was filled with many many triggers for me. I tried to hold it together...and, I did pretty good. But, there were a few moments when I felt like the world was crashing down on me again. My pre-op nurse was such a sweet lady! I have awful veins for IV's. I learned this with Trent. I had a new IV placed daily, sometimes more than once a day, because my veins roll and don't "valve" (I think that is the word they used) I warned the nurse that it is pretty tricky to place an IV in me. (I think they all think I am being dramatic) But, three pricks later and two large bruises on my hands she agreed and got the anestisoligist. He tried twice in my arm and finally got it (I told them so). But, the memories of so MANY people poking me trying to get IV's with Trent was too much to handle before surgery. I was shaking pretty bad on the inside...but, still holding it together. The same nurse came in with a fetal doppler to find Sprinkle's heart beat. She couldn't. I didn't worry right away. I know at 14w5d it is still hard to find. Ken and I rented a doppler to use at home and had just heard the heartbeat the night before. Another nurse came in and still no heartbeat. They went ahead and wheeled me to the OR. Three more nurses tried...no heart beat. I was crying and shaking so hard. I finally said, "I want a cerclage today, not a D&C" I was trying so hard. One of the techs just came and held my hand and wiped my tears for me. They finally called a L&D nurse in...the batteries on the doppler were DEAD!!! My OB walked in...new doppler batteries in hand...and found the little stinker right away. Praise God!! But, oh I was so scared. Next came my spinal...40 + pricks later into my spine, with landicane, they finally figured out I have scholosis. 45+ minutes of poking and burning my spinal was in place and they started surgery...with me wide awake. The rest of the day was fine. Cerclage was placed. My blood pressure dropped a few times in recovery. But, we were home by noon.

When they wheeled me out of the hospital I kept thinking, "I am leaving with empty arms again." I was more than upset. When I left after giving birth to Trent all I had was a box that held his clothes and a gaping wound that would never heal all the way. This time...my baby was still safe and sound.

I just feel a little crazy at times...my emotions are so mixed up. I am happy and sad at the same time. I am looking to the future and desperatly holding onto the past. I want this new life to make it more than anything...but, I would give my legs if I could have Trent here too.

It is so very hard. But, I am beyond blessed to be carrying another baby.

I pray daily for this little one.

22 more weeks and I will be full term...37 weeks. They will take the cerclage back out then. I am believing, in Jesus' name, we will make it that far!

Thursday, December 16, 2010

:)

Cerclage is in place!!!! At home resting!!!!

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

cerclage

My sweet Trent was born at 22 weeks due to my incompetent cervix. By the time we reached the hospital at 21 weeks 2 days, my cervix was fully dialated. It was the hope that laying on hospital bed rest we could keep him in long enough that he could live outside the womb. But, I contracted a deadly infection that lead to inducing him to save my life. A cerclage could have saved his life.

Tomorrow is the day for this baby. Tomorrow I check into the hospital at 6:30am to have a cerclage placed. The cerclage will stitch my cervix shut in hopes that this baby can stay put until at least 36 weeks.

Please pray for my team of doctors, that the baby does great during surgery, and that I come out infection free.

I am scared beyond scared...but, without this surgery history will surely repeat itself.

Sunday, December 12, 2010

when I grow up...

We all had those dreams right? Not just the dreams of what we would be ... but, the dreams of the things you would do different than your parents did.

I grew up in a vegetarian household. I was not vegetarian - nor were my 5 other brothers or sisters - or my mom...but, my dad was. And, that ruled all. My mom did make us turkey hotdogs, turkey burgers, and fish sticks when we were little. But, I didn't have my first steak until I was 18. I didn't have crab legs until I was 15. I didn't have fish (not in stick form) until I was 26. I did eat A LOT of tofu burgers, tofu bacon, vegi crumbles (a tofu mixture that was made to look like ground beef), vegi chicken patties, vegi hotdogs...really I am getting sick to my stomach just thinking of it all! But, I remember being about 15 and fed up with all the vegi crap! I could not WAIT to get my drivers licensce so that I could drive myself to McDonald's and get a hamburger...or two or three or four :) And, I did. I ate fast food on my way home so I could skip what ever vegi item was being made at home.

Why does it matter? Because it is one of the things I have always said I will change when I have kids. I will never "force" them to eat things that they hate. I know I know...sometimes you have to make them try things they will not like at first. But, I spent 10 years of my life telling my dad how much I hated the vegi food.

I have a lot of those plans. But, not just things I want to change. I plan to be the kind of mom my mom was/is. The kind of mom who believes in her kids no matter what. The mom who is there to cry with her kids. The kind of mom who thinks her kids are the most amazing ones around. The kind of mom who shows up at the football games to watch her daughter march...even though there are 5 other kids at home that need her attention.

I want to make memories of family vacations that will last a lifetime. We traveled a lot when I was a kid. I have some amazing vacation memories. I want that for my kids.

So, can I dream??? Can I believe that one day I will get to be a mom here on earth? Will I get the chance to make my kids dinners they will hate and blog about 20 years from now?

I don't know...and it scares me to think that maybe ... just maybe one day I will...

When I grow up...

I want to be a mommy...

to a living child too

Saturday, December 11, 2010

wallowing

Some days I think life would be easier if I just wallowed.

Wouldn't it be nice to just wallow in grief for a few minutes, hours, days, months, years???

Sometimes I just think it would be easier to stop trying to "live" and just wallow in my grief.

But, I don't. I just keep moving forward. When I really let myself stop and think about this last year ... it would be easier to just give up and wallow. I mean think about all I have missed. My first born son is in heaven. Who wrote this script? I don't like it anymore. I want my alternate story. I missed all his firsts. I missed a year that should have been filled with laughter. I lived that year with tears. I love my son...more than I new was possible.

I can't wallow. I can't just lay here and feel bad for myself. I have to keep moving on. I have to be excited for this little one God is knitting together in my womb. I feel blessed that He gave me Trent and even more blessed that He feels like I can do this again.

Yes, it would be easier to wallow. But, I must keep going on.

Friday, December 10, 2010

5 years

Today Ken and I celebrate 5 years of marriage.

What a ride it has been!

I really could not have even imagined how true our vows would become over the years.

I feel pretty lucky Ken picked me. He could have picked anyone in the world...but, he picked me. I think about all the issues my dumb body has...it just doesn't seem fair to him! But, he loves me no matter what. When he married me he thought I would never have kids and now 5 years later we know I can have kids...and even more important we know my body gives out and can't carry a baby without help.

In 5 years we have laughed more times than I can count...
we created a life...
we lost that life...
we planned a funeral for our first born...
we have cried together for our son...
he has held me while I laid broken...
we have been rich and poor...
we have loved and lost...
we have traveled...
we have made a home together...
we have moved across the country and started again...
we have made mistakes together...
we have gotten lost together and found our way hand in hand...
we have become "us"...
we have loved each other beyond what words can say...
we have created life...again.

I am beyond blessed to be married to this man.

Thursday, December 2, 2010

13 weeks

So fitting

The Other Child

a friend emailed me a link to this site...


What a very fitting way to explain this new pregnancy...


My sweet Trent will always be missing...

But, I am beyond grateful for this little miracle being knit together in my womb...

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

my sweet boy

I have heard some of the craziest things in the last 11 months. I have heard mean things, rude things, strange things, and of course many many sweet things. When people think of my son or tell me how he has changed their life or heart....those things warm my heart.

About a week ago I was talking with my niece, Lily. She is 7. She is one of my favorite people in the world. She always cracks me up. And, just like her mom, she tries never to offend people so is careful with her choice of words. In the week after Trent died Ken and I stayed in Lily's room. She and Ella (my 4 year old niece) ((Ella and Trent share a birthday)) asked me lots of questions about Trent. Their mom had showed them pictures of him and of course they wanted to hold him and meet him. We did not have them come to the hospital. Ella wanted to know why she could not hold him. Lily wanted to know why he had to go to heaven. I digress...back to last week...Lily asked if I was coming to their house for Christmas this year. I told her I couldn't. (I didn't explain how heart wrenching it would be to be back in the place it all happened so close to the day we lost him) I did tell her I had to have surgery to keep this little baby safe and the doctors would not let me travel. She thought for a few minutes and said, "If this baby lives can you come next year?" Oh...that sweet girl. I hate that she knows that babies die. I hate that she has had to see the pain Ken and I have lived through. She and Ella both miss their cousin. And, I so wish he were here.

I am feeling better these past few days. Thanksgiving was rough. I know Christmas and his birthday will be even worse. But, for now I am trying to find joy in this little miracle growing inside.
 
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