Thursday, May 27, 2010

We finally got Nevan's autopsy report after an extra week delay. And just like we were warned they didn't tell us anything. She died of 'hypoxic ischemic encephalopathy' (lack of oxygen to the brain) and she had also inhaled meconium in the womb. I was just feeling numb about it all yesterday, but it really has made all the guilt come rushing back again today. The OB was amazing, said we can't carry all this guilt around, and there were really no signs. But still....
All in all, I'm glad the day is over. This was the last appt. dealing with Nevan's death. Maybe we can move forward now?

Saturday, May 15, 2010

3 months

This week was alright for me. I started sewing again, and it felt really good. It sounds crazy, but I made baby quilts for the cousin having twins, whose shower is on Sunday. I took Angus on lots of big walks, so I felt healthy and energetic. It's the first time in a long time I kind of felt good or positive or even happy. It felt good to hold on to that feeling for a bit because I knew the sadness would come back, and it did. It all hit me last night after a dinner with my old co-workers. The dinner was great, and it was good to see them again. I found out the woman who I'd been pregnant with at work had her baby (which I knew would be soon). On the way home, I just started crying in the middle of the street. This morning I felt ok, but I had to get a card to go with the shower gift (Chris was dropping the gift off - there's no way I'm ready for baby showers yet and it's going to be a big one, his family is huge). Anyways, I couldn't bring myself to buy a baby card. They were all so happy, and in my head I was thinking "but what if both babies don't come home?" I ended up buying a blank card with a flower on the front, and Chris signed it for us. I feel like a crazy person sometimes.


Nevan,

It's been 3 months since your birth. It kind of hit me by surprise today since I was focused on tomorrow which is 3 months since your death. When I was walking Angus yesterday, I noticed a butterfly seemed to be following us. When we got home, Daddy called me into the bedroom to see the same butterfly resting on the windowsill. It stayed for a few minutes and flew away. I always think of you when I see butterflies. The week after you died, Daddy and I took Angus down to the beach. It was unseasonably warm for February but there was still snow on the ground. I looked up and saw a monarch butterfly. I don't know how that was possible, but I thought of you.

Your auntie K gave me a beautiful memory box for all of your things. It's filled and on my dresser. I'm so glad we have your hand and footprints, locks of your hair, crib cards, and most of all your gown, blanket and little hat. In the first weeks after you left us they still smelled like you, which was so comforting to me. Now your smell has gone, and all I have are all of these mementos. I'm glad I have them but all I want is you.

I love you and miss you, mommy.

Monday, May 10, 2010

May

I've been dreading May since we lost Nevan. 3 dates rolled into one month. First Mother's Day, which actually wasn't as bad as I was expecting. Then the 3 month anniversary, which is on the same day as Chris's cousin's baby shower (which I'm not going to). And the worst one for me, and the one I can't wait to get over with: the autopsy report. I have to call tomorrow to make sure it will actually be in, but whenever I think of our appointment date May 19th, I'm filled with dread. We've been warned more than once that the report probably won't tell us anything we don't already know, but of course, there are all the 'what-if's' in my mind. This date seemed so far away back in February, but now it's here and the time has kind of flown by. On the other hand it seems like 3 years has passed, and I'm here but the world is whizzing by. I don't know how to explain it. Most of the time I've felt like a zombie living on autopilot, and I look back and wonder what I've done for the last few months?

In the past week or two, I've felt a bit more hopeful or a bit more like myself??? Starting around Christmas time, most of the couples we know were starting to try to get pregnant. So it's now a season later, and we're beginning to hear pregnancy announcements. Which is great for them, but knocks the wind outta me at first. All these happy newly pregnant friends with no cares in the world as to how it will all turn out. And for all of them I'm sure, they will get a healthy screaming baby at the end of their pregnancies. And although I would never wish my fate on anyone, it's just so wrong and unfair that our lives took this horrible turn.

I want to have hope for the future, and long to be pregnant again sometime soon. Right now at almost 3 months out, it all seems too soon. I'm terrified of never being able to get pregnant again. I'm terrified of having a miscarriage or any of the other things that I now know can go wrong. I'm terrified that the doctors damaged my uterus while performing the c-section. I want all this fear to just go away, and I also want my body to heal a bit more; it was a tough recovery for me.

So I guess whatever the results of the autopsy turn out to be, I hope to have hope again. Hope to begin moving forward. To try to ignore my fears. To one day give Nevan a wee brother or sister. Hope is the only thing that will get me through this.