Reading "Pregnancy after a Loss" Ch. 1

No, I am not pregnant, but there is still a possibility that maybe someday.  Plus this book has a lot of good stuff to work out just in case.
The first chapter is called the search for answers.  There are so many things that went unanswered about our premature labor and birth and about the death of our baby.
I always assume that the reason I went into labor is because I was having twins.  I was measuring full term and PTL is more common with twins.  The book talks about the postpartum visit and how that can be very healing because it can answer some of the what ifs.  Her doctor actually told her "There was absolutely nothing you did to cause your baby's death".  What I would have given to hear that from my OB or from my baby's neonatologist.
Or even that there was nothing I did to cause myself to go into preterm labor.  I guess there really isn't any way to know, but it would have been comforting to hear.  Let me tell you about my post-partum visit.  Keep in mind this was before Samantha passed away but after she had been transferred to St. David's main.  I was recovering from a C/S, going between hospitals to see my babies, pumping every 3 hours for about 30 minutes at a time and somehow trying see my husband and 2 yo daughter in between.
This is a doctor whom I chose because the practice had been recommended (I couldn't get into the practice of the doctor who she actually recommended) and I had heard that he was a really great surgeon.  After all that I went through to find a doctor in College Station, when we moved to Austin I was done "doctor shopping".  It was way too stressful and I was already 26 weeks with twins and a previous C/S so I was thinking I wouldn't have a lot of options.  Well he was an older man, not really friendly or chatty but I did find out that his daughter knew a brother of mine.
And it was always quick.  I was in and out and that was fine.  All the aches and pains I complained about he said were normal.  He measured me and said I was great.  I had no complications through my first pregnancy (except for my baby being breech) and there were no red flags here.
So after the babies were born when I was in the hospital, Im not sure if he ever came to check on me.  He didn't actually deliver the babies as he was  not on call at the time.  I don't even know the name of the doctor who actually did it.  I once passed him in the hall of the hospital as I was going as fast as I could from my PP room to the NICU to see my babies.  He said "Wow, you are getting around well."  I nearly hit him.
And when I went in for my postpartum I was in a total fog of stress, trauma and sleep depravation.  As I was waiting in the exam room, a nurse came and said, "Where are they?".  What?  She was looking for my twin babies.  I explained, holding back tears, that they were in the hospital.
Then when the doctor came in I really thought it was my chance to talk.  He thought it would be the same in and out we always had.  I knew he wasn't into "people with birth plans" and "with all their lists".  (I didn't tell him that was me.)  I tried to ask him why it happened and all I could get was that they could never know.  The more questions I asked about exercise, diet, medicine, activity, the more he blew me off, as if it was silly to even ask.
Eventually he did talk about the tests that were done on the placentas, but I couldn't understand what he was saying about them.  Follow up questions got me handed a copy of the tests.  Of course I couldn't read them but at least I could look up the words later.
Then he asked me about birth control.  I told him we use NFP so we would continue to use that.  He said they love for people to have more babies.
Maybe I don't even need to say it.  I never want to see that man again.  Their office never acknowledged my trauma of PTL or acted like they cared about all the horror I was going through.  I don't even know if they know that Samantha passed away.  I don't think any of them cared.
I was already in such a haze that I could barely function, then on top of it I felt so unimportant and stupid.  I wish there had been some comfort there.
I will never again have a doctor who I am not convinced cares about me and my baby.  I spent many months following wondering, if I had a doctor who paid more attention to me, who cared about me and my babies, would he or she have noticed something that he missed?  Would someone have paid attention to all the pain I was having and maybe actually checked to see if I was dilating?
I know it doesn't matter now, except that I will not settle next time.  I want someone I feel comfortable calling in the middle of the night if I have ANY INKLING that something is wrong.  I want someone who I know will comfort me if my babies are in trouble and that will cry with me if my baby dies.
Although this book is bringing up a lot of painful memories and it is hard to thinka bout, I think it's good to write out what happened and learn from my mistakes.  Even if I can't know why I went into PTL or why Samantha contracted NEC, at least I know next time I will have a doctor who treats me with compassion.

Open the Box

Samantha's name doesn't come up very often now a days.  It's harder to find an excuse to bring her up than ever before.  It's been nice that Alexandra still brings her up- she told a lady at the library yesterday about her.  She usually calls her Mommy's baby and not her sister, but I can understand that.
I am still going to my support group in Austin.  Boy that is a place a feel so at home.  I tried many different groups and communities and this is my home.  I may have nothing else in common with the people there other than the fact that we have children that have died.  But that connects us and the environment there does just what it promises.  Healing.  Just a shoulder to cry on, open arms, a place to "be".
The last few times I went I wasn't sure why I was going.  In the past I either couldn't wait to go because I needed it so bad or I had a list of little occurrences I wanted to share because they are the only ones who would want to hear about it.  But lately, I just go.
It's as if - in my everyday life - it never happened.  No one knew her, there are no empty spaces to remind me she is missing.  I looked at Hannah's scrapbook and it didn't hurt.  I pretty much never used to look at Hannah's scrapbook, only Samantha's.  But I wanted to look at Hannah's babyhood, which she has left behind completely.  The pangs I expected never came. 
Somehow the lack of pain was nice, but a little strange.  I didn't want to think about this thing that happened.  But it wasnt a peace- it felt like a numbness.
At My Healing Place (or as Alexandra calls it "Your healing place"), as I listened to my comrades speak about thier losses and experiences, I realized I had closed the box and put it on a high shelf.  The one with the memories of Samantha and her death.  Slowly as I put more and more things on my shelf it got shoved further to the back so that I didn't have to see it every time I opened that cabinet.  Then I kind of forgot it was there.
You might think, well if it's not hurting, don't go!  Leave that box closed!  But like I said it wasn't peace, as if I had closed it and said to myself "I don't need to look in there right now" and put it in the vault.  It was more of a gradual neglect.  I do need that box still.  I need to know that I'm not crazy.  I had another daughter!  Samantha was here!  And I miss her.  Not in the same way I did, but in a new and different way that is real.
Thank you my friends at MHP for helping me reconnect with my daughter, Samantha.

Hannah's First Recital (without Samantha)

I know this will happen less as the girls get older, but every first, is a missed first for  me.  I know it was compounded by the fact that is was Mother's Day and all I wanted was to go to the cemetery (and hating that feeling that I want to go to the cemetery because I wish I didn't need to go to the cemetery).
Hannah is so tiny and she was so adorable and beautiful.  Everyone thought she was so cute, and I certainly agreed.  However I couldn't help imagining Samantha there.  And that feeling I used to get of everything in the world being as it should be.  I can't help wondering if I will ever feel that way again.  Whenever I get close there is an "except".
I wanted so much to hear her name with her sisters'.  I wanted to much to scream that there is someone missing here.  It's such a weird feeling to need to cry but not be able to.  My eyes tear up and it feels like there is a flood behind the dam but I can't open it even once I'm finally alone.  Mother's day is so different for people who have children who are not on earth.
I read an article about woman whose son recently died in a car accident.  I couldn't help thinking that poor woman has joined this horrific club of which I am a member.  It's different in so many ways since he was 21, but in so many ways it's the same too.  It brought back many memories for me of those early days of grief.  The feelings of shock.
I have been, as always, going through my scrapbook when I get a chance.  I want to sit down and write out some of the thoughts and memories that come to me when I do, however I am just trying to jot this down quickly before the oven starts beeping.
There it is.
I think the word that sums up how I feel right now its "ow".

Still Grieving

I posted on my online grief group about what really happened at field of flowers day.  It's always nice to have their understanding.  I try to act like I am a confident griever.  I tell others there is no wrong way to grieve, there is no time line, be gentle with yourself.  But taking that advice is so different.
At my in person grief group, we watched a video of a book called Tear Soup.  It was so good.  It reminded me of so many things I experienced especially the first year.  And made me realize that it's ok if I'm still making tear soup because I will always have some occasionally.
http://losjuanhijos.blogspot.com/2012/04/field-of-flowers-day-2012.html
It was a beautiful day.  I had been looking forward to it and there was this wonderful photographer who took these lovely photos.  Then it happened.
Facebook:

 Small vent... Saturday we went to the field of flowers day at the cemetery which we have attended every year. It was a beautiful day and the girls looked so sweet. Turn around and there they were... a man and a woman with a tiny baby in a bjorn on each of their chests. It was like sledge hammer. I tried to just keep going but I broke and just started balling. I'm two years out and it's been a long time since I cried like that. I just kept thinking, I had two little babies just like that- I wish I wasn't here! I bet they were visiting a grandparent (they weren't in the baby section). I just hate it when my "safe place" gets invaded. In a way it felt good to cry like that, but it hurt so much to be reminded of what I had and lost. SUCKS!!!

It still hurts so much.  I miss her everyday but now in the day in and day out it feels a little more distant and unreal.  I feel like my heart is protecting itself by creating a reality where she never existed.  Because when I realize that this thing really happened to me, it can be paralyzing.  It is amazing to me also how interconnected my grief is with my desire for another baby.  

I know I can never replace her, but the thought of having another baby is so joyous and comforting.  I am filled with hope and happiness just thinking about it.  But for several reasons this is not the time.  And suddenly that becomes a part of my loss.  Just another reminder that this horrible thing happened to me.  Not only will I never get to hold Samantha again but I may never have another baby.  And if I do it will likely be a traumatic experience for my whole family.

I will look at my scrapbook and give Hannah double kisses today.

The Way of the Cross Without Samantha

This is an article I wrote a year ago which I shared on a blog I contribute to.  It is mostly for Catholics and people who want to learn about the Catholic faith and lifestyle but I tend to end up writing many time about my loss.  I feel that is a unique perspective I have and at the same time something many people have experienced.  I hope you will enjoy taking this little lenten journey with me.
http://www.catholicsistas.com/2012/04/04/walking-the-way-of-the-cross-without-samantha/

Field of Flowers Day 2012

Field of Flowers Day

For our Family this is a special event.  We get to take a photo where our whole family is there. It is always beautiful and peaceful.  I am looking forward to it.

Two Years Ago

We had a wonderful weekend acknowledging our sweet baby girl.
My lovely family was so supportive as always.  My sister and husband and daughter came in from out of town and my mom offered to make dinner for everyone.
I told my sister I would like to do something in Samantha's honor and she was thoughtful enough to call the NICU where Samantha and Hannah were born and ask them if there was something we could get for them.
So yesterday we went to Target and bought swing for the babies in the NICU. I used my label maker to create a label that said "In Loving Memory of Samantha Lily Johnson 1/31/10 - 3/12/10".  I was so glad to be able to do that.  Knowing that there is something there to honor her which they babies can use is a huge comfort to me.
Going to the hospital for me is like a trip back in time.  The smells and the sights take me back to a time when I had two babies.  A time when I was terrified and exhausted.  I was running on fumes but so motivated by my sweet little babies.  When I go the hospital a particularly familiar smell is the soap.  Before entering the NICU there is a ritual of hand washing which is important because of the babies' vulnerability to germs.  That smell brings back the excitement that soon I will be holding my babies.  I was so close and yet so far.  I would cry while I washed my hands because I missed them so much.
That place is a little bit like proof for my heart that she was real and the place where she lived is still there just as it was.  There were two nurses there one whom had a familiar face and the other that I felt like I knew well.  She was there when we came back to the hospital after Samantha died to talk to the doctor who was on call at the time she got sick and ask some questions to try to understand what happened as much as we could.  That nurse was so sweet and compassionate.  I will never forget how she cried with us.  Many of them grieved with us at the funeral.  They were the only ones who really knew her like we did.  It was a huge comfort to see them there and to keep in touch with them on facebook.
It was cold and rainy yesterday just like the day we buried Samantha, several days after she died.  Today parents and sister's family and my brother and his girlfriend joined my family at mass and came over for lunch.  Then we all went to the cemetery together.  It was a beautiful sunny afternoon, although muddy.  The flowers are blooming, bluebonnets, and little yellow flowers all over.  It's green and breezy and sunny sitting there gazing at my baby's headstone.
I got to share some memories with my family.  And thank my brother in law for taking the trouble and pain to write down his memories of Samantha which he did a year ago.  I feel so blessed.
Tomorrow my new blog layout will show up.  I am looking forward to marking the second anniversary of her death with a beautiful tribute to a beautiful girl.