"The Happiest Story With The Saddest Ending"

I stole this phrase from Elizabeth McCraken's story, "An Exact Replica of A Figment of My Imagination." I couldn't have said it better.

My pregnancy and loss is "the happiest story with the saddest ending."

I found out I was expecting on my husband's 30th Birthday, Novemeber 3, 2008. I had a negative PT earlier that week and for some reason decided to take one again. My husband and I have been together since I was in tenth grade. We've been together for almost 14 years and have been married over five years. We wanted this baby. We tried for this baby. It was the greatest news.

Pregnancy suited me. I was told that I had that "glow." I was elated, giddy, gushing with excitement... For the most part, I felt pretty good. I never experienced morning sickness. Though I was more tired than usual and seemed to catch every bug that was going around school. I had developed a strong affinity for Starbursts and Sour Patch Kids (my tongue was raw at times:)). My belly started to swell at about 14weeks and by then I had revealed to just about everybody that I was expecting (we told our families we were expecting on Thanksgiving Day). I spent most of my days dreaming about getting huge, buying maternity clothes, the baby shower, the birth, and of course, all of the things we'd do with our child.

We had our first big ultrasound just before Christmas. It was the first time my husband had come with me to an apointment. This is the day it felt real- there she was- a real live baby- her heart beating away. I got to show off my ultrasound pics to our families on Christmas Day. We got a couple of gifts for the baby that day. I folded up the items, but left them out because I liked to look at them each day and dream about what my baby would like wearing them, where she'd wear them to... It was a joyful event in the midst of all of the sorrow I'd experienced in
the last year. It was my first Christmas without my father- he passed away March 18, 2008. I missed my dad so much during the holidays, but the idea that our little baby was on its way made the day bearable.

Our next big ultrasound took place just two days after my birthday (February 26, 2009). I remember being irritated with my husband because he was running late and I was so worried that I'd be late for my appointment. I wasn't going to miss learning whether the little one was a boy
or a girl. But, we made it just in time. I swore I was having a boy, so when the technician said "It's a girl," I was truly suprised. We
immediately started rattling off names while we waited to see the doctor. My husband had this thing where he liked to suggest the most
horrific of names just to get me to laugh. Afterwards, we called our parents and told them the news. My mom screamed she was so excited. That evening we went shopping and picked out a couple of outfits for the baby. I hung them in closet. It was the happiest day- the best birthday present I'd ever been given.

Just a couple of days later, we moved into our new home. We had our families over to show off our new place. Since we had just learned that we were expecting a girl, we were showered with gifts- pretty pink dresses, summer onsies, hair ribbons. I had fun putting it all away
and thinking about where I'd put all the other baby stuff. This was my last happy day. That night I went to the hospital.

Do Something

I have been feeling so lonely and isolated lately. I'm sure part of this is my fault. I am not ready to do or say certain things to the people who love me. I also feel that some people just don't know what to say or do to help. I'm wondering why I haven't invited certain friends and family to view my blog. I kind of like having this blog be an outlet where I can post anything without worrying that I'm offending anyone. But, I think in doing so I'm also shutting people out. So, needless to say I'm strongly thinking about inviting some of the people closest to me to view my blog. However, I must say I get so happy when I see that other moms have visited my blog. Thanks to everyone for stopping by. :)

I've been thinking a lot this week about what I'm going to do to help others who are in this situation. I so desperately want to DO SOMETHING. I strongly believe Ella came into our lives for a reason and I feel the responsibilty to do work in her honor. I'm not super artistic- I can't sew, but I do know the basics of knitting. And, I do enjoy making things and being creative. I would love to make something that can be given to comfort families during this difficult time. Is there anyone out there who can share projects they have done in honor of their little babies?

On a totally different note, this week I read the book "An Exact Replica of a Figment of My Imagination," by Katherine McCracken. A very special friend sent this book to me. I read the whole story in one afternoon. The author does such a beautiful job describing the experience of giving birth to a baby who has died and the emotional aftermath. It was sad to read, but I highly recommend the book.

Smile

I haven't done a blog entry this week because I have been unsure about what I wanted to say. I thought I'd start with posting a few pictures of things that make me SMILE.

My mother in law painted this cupcake for Ella. She gave it to me shortly after we told her we were expecting a little girl. My MIL knows that I LOVE to eat cupcakes. Now, I keep the picture in my bedroom and it just makes me smile and think of two things I love.

The second painting (done by my MIL too) was done in honor of Ella. If you can't see it, it says "Ella in our Hearts Forever." It is such a perfect painting. My MIL knows I also love hearts. The little urn we have Ella's ashes in is a heart.

I Rant

My mood these past few days has shifted from heartbroken, to lonely, to just plain ANGRY. I have always been a pretty level person. I don't think I've ever known the feeling of anger quite like this. I lost my father last year to cancer. Until now, that was the hardest time of my life. I still don't recall feeling so damn angry.
Bringing home Ella's pictures on Tuesday really hit me hard. It kills me that I didn't get to bring home a perfect little baby. It kills me that I feel that I can't share her pictures with friends and family because she doesn't look like a "normal" baby and people will find it too sad.
Another thing that just made me plain angry this week is my co-workers sent a card out to me that had gotten misplaced and was supposed to be sent about seven weeks ago (when I was still pregnant and had just gone on bedrest). The card was signed by several people and included comments like "rest up, keep that baby safe." At the time, the card was perfectly appropriate. But, I find it just so insensitive for them to still send it off after all that has happened. Yeah, thanks for the reminder that I didn't keep my baby safe.
I'm angry that my body failed me and didn't keep my baby safe.
I'm angry that my friends and family aren't calling or emailing more. I know I don't always pick up the phone or respond to an email, but it is just nice to know that someone is thinking of you at this time. It feels like everyone is going on with their lives when mine has just shattered.
I'm angry that my first baby shower was supposed to be held next weekend.
I'm angry at myself because as I'm sitting here feeling sorry for myself, writing this blog, my doctor (who is amazing) has just emailed me to let me know that she just lost her 95 year old grandmother. A woman she describes as being the wisest, smartest woman she'd known. I feel just awful that someone who has been so supportive of me is hurting.

Another Day

The Universe doesn't want me to blog today. It took me several minutes to get online. And, I really want to post some pictures from our visit to the Butterfly Jungle, but my computer is being stubborn today.

Speaking of the Butterfly Jungle... Our day at the park was amazing. Butterflies of every color flutterred all around us. A beautiful blue one landed on my stomach. It was so cool. My husband was able to get a video of it.

Speaking of my husband...Here is why I love him. # 1. Last night he revealed to me that he has been carrying my hospital bracelets around in his jacket pocket. He said he keeps them in there to remind him of everything we went through. That was a reminder to me that this happened to him too. It is so easy to be selfish and feel sorry for myself and forget that he lost a daughter and a dream too. #2. There is this commercial (though, there are several right now) that I really cannot watch. It is one that really reminds me of being pregnant and is just a heartbreaker. I always turn it off when it comes on. Last night I was laying in bed watching TV and the commercial came on. My husband came sprinting in from the other room and turned the TV off.

Today we're going to go and visit the nurses at the hospital that cared for me during Ella's birth. I know it is going to be hard to return to the hospital, but I just feel so fortunate that I was cared for in such a gentle and kind way. Shortly after I arrived at the the hospital that night, I learned that I would be giving birth and that we would be losing our daughter because it was just too early for her to survive on her own. The nurses walked us through the whole process and really encouraged us to see and hold our daughter (at first, we didn't want to- we were afraid it would be too hard). They really helped us to create the beautiful memories that we have of our baby today. How do you ever "repay" someone for giving you something so priceless?

I'd like some advice from anyone that is willing to share. We didn't have a memorial for Ella. When she first died, we just thought is would be too painful. We have done little things to memorialize her, of course. I had her footprints engraved on a necklace. I set up a little space where I put things like her ashes and the little mold of her feet. My mother in law did a painting in tribute to Ella and it is hanging in our house. But something has just been bugging me lately. I'm wondering if I will look back at this whole experience and feel sad that I didn't have a memorial for her. I do want people to know that she was a person who we loved and lost. But, I also know that some people may think that I'm crazy to hold a memorial for a baby that never even lived. I'm curious to know what others did for their babies.

Why Butterflies?

My husband and I found out that we were expecting a baby girl on February 26th. Afterwards, we went shopping to buy our first outfit for Ella. My husband picked out a precious cream and peach onsie with a butterfly on it. A few weeks later we had a family event at our new home. Several of our family members brought gifts for Ella. All but two of the outfits we were given had butterflies on them. After giving birth to Ella, I noticed that there was a butterfly sculpture outside my window at the hospital. Come to find out that butterflies are the symbol for a lost child. Isn't it weird how the universe sends us signs? I was just telling my husband that I love butterflies because they remind me of my baby, but at the same time I think I hate them because I feel like the universe was trying to send me signs that I was going to lose my baby. Or, did I jinx my situation because I purchased items with butterflies on them. Today, because it is the one month anniversary of Ella's passing and Easter Sunday, we are going to visit the Butterfly Jungle at the San Diego Wild Animal Park. I hope I can feel Ella's presence today.

One Month Ago Today

Our Baby Butterfly, Ella was born one month ago today. Ella wasn't due until July 10th, so delivering at 23 weeks wasn't expected. The reason Ella came is still pretty much unknown. My doctor thinks it could be due to an incompetent cervix, but isn't 100% sure. This last month has been pretty tough. I have spent a lot of time reading the blogs of others like me. This inspired me to create my own. Today I remember holding Ella in my arms after she was born. She was so tiny, so perfect. I remember holding her little hands and touching her soft lips. She had pudgy feet which I'm sure she got from me. I wish I would have held on to her longer. I would go through the experience all over again just to have her with me one more time. Now I am mourning the loss of my little daughter and the loss of the idea of being a mom.