One month seems like forever

Tomorrow is the 1 month anniversary of our baby girl's entrance into heaven. A month that seems like an eternity to me. (No pun intended.) Sometimes I wonder if it has truly hit me that our baby died. I mean, I think I get it, but it is such a horrific reality that I wonder if maybe my heart just hasn't grasped it yet.

The ultrasound still haunts me, the memories of labor and delivery still wake me up at night. But now that we are several weeks past my scheduled C-section (Nov 1), I am starting to think more about what might have been. I can idealize...I can imagine her here at home, soundly sleeping in my arms. But the reality is that she would've been in a hospital crib, hooked up to a respirator while she recovered from surgery. She would've been eating through a feeding tube, not from my breast. I would be spending hours watching her breathe, hours spent away from Jack and John Mark. It wouldn't have been a vacation by any means. That of course isn't to say that I wouldn't give anything to have her with us right now. But something that John Mark brought up with me yesterday is that this whole grieving process started 6 months ago. It's a pretty big wakeup call to find out that your child is sick. Really sick. That her condition is so rare and complicated that our best option is to pack up and move 700 miles away to get her treated. Every time we drove to Birmingham for an ultrasound, we were in for even more hard news. We gradually discovered that our lives would be changed forever. But the problem was that we never had a chance to grieve that reality. We were too busy preparing for her arrival. So, when she passed away, it was like we had climbed to the highest point of Mount Everest only to get buried in an avalanche. All the pain from that climb was still present within ourselves, even if it seemed insignificant compared to the pain of her passing.

The uniqueness of our experience is important when comparing myself to others who have lost loved ones. In other words, it's pointless. No one has the same story. Even if you just look at those who experience death of an unborn baby. One mother loses her child at 7 weeks, another learns at 20 weeks that her baby has anacephaly and won't live for more than a few moments after birth. Another mother is busy decorating her daughter's nursery...she is 39 weeks pregnant and her healthy baby is about to arrive at anytime. She has no doubts or fears in her mind besides the usual anxiety and anticipation of labor. Then, when she arrives at her OB's office for a routine non-stress test, they can't find the heartbeat.

All of these situations are different...these moms have all lost their children, they all grieve and mourn. They cry, they ask "why me?", they are scared that they will never find joy again. But the grieving process is going to be different for each of them. Not because one scenario is worse than the others - they all are terrible and tragic - but because the experiences up to that point are different. So, I can't compare myself to other moms. I have yet to meet someone who has gone through what we've gone through...not many people are faced with the decisions that we had to make. Also, we all have different levels of support. The parents who miscarried may not have told anyone that they were pregnant, so they may not even have anyone to pray for them. Many moms don't have strong faiths that keep them going. Others may have other issues like infertility that make them wonder if they will ever be able to have a child. For some, their stillborn baby was their first, and they have to deal with going back to work.

So, I can compare myself to other grieving moms and say "I have it so much worse because we moved to Baltimore for her only to come home with empty arms. I have it worse because I went full-term and had to deliver a dead baby after spending 9 months bonding with her." But it's not worse. I am blessed with an amazing network of friends and family who have completely overwhelmed us with love, prayers, and support. I am blessed with fertility, so God-willing, we will hopefully be able to give Bernadette more brothers and sisters. I am blessed with an amazing son who is like this beacon of light in my life. I am blessed with a strong and devoted husband who has a faith that can move mountains. So, like I said, what's the point? We all have our stories, we all have our own ways of dealing with our pain and sorrow. We all have incredibly heavy crosses to bear. I can certainly learn from moms who have "been there done that", but there's no reason to worry that my path to healing isn't just like theirs.

24 weeks and counting...

I just wanted to give a synopsis on my family before I started posting updates on our current situation. My husband, John Mark, and I have been married for a little over 2 years, and we have a beautiful little son, Jack, who is 13 months old. We are devout Roman Catholics and hope that we can raise our children to be holy and devout disciples of Christ. John Mark is an electrical engineer and is studying for his master's degree in network security. The ultimate computer nerd! :) I am a stay-at-home mom, and I love every minute of it (well, most of the time). We are both graduates of Franciscan University of Steubenville. I went to graduate school at Emory University to study molecular pharmacology, until I felt called to move to my hubby's town a few hours away to get married and raise a family.

Jack is the most wonderful little guy! As a baby, he was incredibly laid back and independent. At this point, he looks, walks, and acts like he's 2, so I constantly have to remind myself that he's barely a year old! He really is the most amazing blessing in our lives...I had no clue how fulfilling it would be to be a mother until he landed in my arms. I often find myself staring at him in wonder and awe while he plays, flips through his books, dances to music, or chases the cat while laughing hysterically. I'm sure most parents know what that's like.

When Jack was about 8 mos old, we found out we were expecting again! Our little girl, Bernadette, is due on November 7, 2007. We are currently 24 weeks pregnant. At around 18 weeks, I had a standard ultrasound (u/s) scheduled. My OB noticed a slight arrhythmia in her heart rate, which is actually relatively common, so I only freaked out a little bit. He scheduled me for another u/s 3 weeks later and had planned on referring me to a perinatologist to study the heart for any defects or malformations. I went to my next appointment a little nervous, but hopeful that her heart was strong and healthy. And I was right! However, my OB then noticed that she had a protrusion around her umbilical cord that he believed to be an omphalocele. I was pretty shaken up by this information, not really knowing anything about what this meant for our daughter. We ended up seeing the perinatologist in Birmingham to confirm the diagnosis. And we got even more hard news. Oftentimes, a baby with an omphalocele is found to have other birth defects. Thankfully, her heart, lungs, and brain appeared normal, so the chance of it being chromosomal was slim. But he discovered that her sacrum, or tail bone, was small and poorly formed. He also noticed that she had clubfeet. The omphalocele appeared to be moderate in size and included her intestines, part of her liver, and possibly her bladder. I guess only time will tell how severe her condition is and what can be done about it. We don't know if she will ever be able to walk...if there is nerve damage at the base of her spine, which is likely since she also developed clubfeet (her feet are controlled by sacral nerves), she may be paralyzed and/or have bowel and bladder issues. Needless to say, the wait is excruciating. Simply waiting until the next ultrasound feels like an eternity.

We are incredibly blessed to have so many faithful people praying for Bernadette. And we have undoubtedly received so much grace from those prayers. This is certainly the most difficult thing we have ever gone through...I have felt so many mixed feelings - from anger, to sadness, to fear, to joy that she has made it this far, to more fear...

So, keep praying! We will keep you posted on the upcoming ultrasounds, consults with surgeons, and any other news that we hear.

God Bless,
Michele, John Mark, Jack, and Bernadette