Olivia's birthday

It's hard to find the words for yesterday. I started a few different blog posts and erased them, so maybe we'll try pictures instead.

It was a beautiful day. Just like last year. I bought the same happy birthday butterfly balloon and the same heart balloon as last year (but this year decided to write on it), and this year added a pink flower balloon. One for each of us.

 And Lucas was dressed for the occasion but totally uncooperative for pictures, he was fascinated by grass.

Actually, Lucas is a mellow happy baby most of the time overall but yesterday he was especially cooperative (with the exception of pictures and then at bedtime he'd fall asleep for 5 minutes, wake up when I put him in bed, and then was wide awake chattering away like it was the middle of the day. Finally I put him on the floor to play and let him wear himself out.) I was concerned about trying not to cry in front of him much since he's not quite as oblivious now, that was a failure, but luckily he didn't seem concerned about it.

 

 We left flowers, and broke the rules again this year and left a little doll and winnie the pooh figurine (last year they let the stuff we left stay for almost a year- technically since its a national cemetery "stuff" is against the rules but they tend to let it slide if it is subtle and plus Olivia's grave faces away from the street).

Then we released the balloons (Lucas participated)

I had my eye out for butterflies, but there weren't any. No animals or insects of any kind, but strangely enough, right after the balloons were out of sight, a big orange butterfly flew quickly across the street, past us, and was gone...too quick for me to get a picture and even Joe nearly missed it because it came and went so quickly. If I hadn't been looking around, I would have missed it too.

Then we stopped by the angel/park on the way home (this is where we will be back next week for Lucas's early 6 month pictures- fingers crossed the weather cooperates)

 The angel always accumulates lots of stuff.

We added a baby doll and teddy bear and another winnie the pooh figure to the collection.

And a flower to Olivia's brick,

More uncooperative baby pictures (but at least he's smiling).

I had to go to the bathroom and when I walked back up to Joe and Lucas, this butterfly practically flew into me. (It looks a lot like the same butterfly at the cemetery but I'm sure it isn't since they are 20ish miles apart.)

Then we came home and ate cupcakes. They had sprinkles and tinkerbell on them.  Joe and I went through her memory box and cried a lot more while Lucas played and laughed at us.

It was a nice day, for what it was. We received so many nice messages and texts and emails, and even an incredibly nice and unexpected card. That definitely made the hard day a little easier. But it was definitely still sad and hard and draining. It also definitely helped to have Lucas to squeeze a little extra tightly, poor kid. Although I think being pregnant with him for Olivia's first birthday forced me to keep it together a bit more and this year I tried but really couldn't.

Happy birthday, baby girl.

September 28, 2011

Two years ago today about this time I was getting an ultrasound on my lungs and liver and probably other stuff in the hospital. The tech kept looking at something in particular and then even went and got another tech to help her. I was almost relieved that it seemed like they had found something wrong to explain my pain. When we were brought back to the hospital room, I naively said to Joe, "I'm just afraid that they aren't going to find anything wrong and send me home like I'm imagining this..." (I always morbidly wonder what exactly would have happened if they had sent me home. My OB said I would have likely started seizing by the next day and gone into liver failure within a day or so as well. Olivia was already in distress with low fluid levels by around 4 pm that day, so I don't think she would have lived much longer inside me. They didn't think she'd survive long enough for an induction.)

A nurse came in and asked if I wanted pain meds and I said no. Soon after that, my OB's (now ex) partner came in and checked me over, asked about where it hurt and that dumb rating scale they use. The nurse told her how I had turned down pain meds, the tone in her voice suggesting that "she can't be in that much pain if she doesn't want drugs"...that was when I spoke up that the reason I didn't want pain meds was that I would rather tough it out until I passed out from it than take something that might effect the baby. I think Joe must have been on his way home to let out the dogs by then because he probably would have been even more irritated about that than I was. Someone came in and did more bloodwork and they were waiting for the radiologist's report. I begged for food and they finally agreed to give me freaking broth, which was disgusting, but I was starving. They didn't want to let me eat anything real until they knew what was wrong in case I needed surgery. We'd been there since 3 am or so and it was now about noon.

The Really Bad News came from a phone call around 2:30ish. I was watching General Hospital (It just so happens that Olivia and Lucas/Lucky are both characters there. We didn't do it intentionally really, and if we have another girl someday, the names that I really like aren't any characters yet.) And texting my friend on my cell phone about how they were trying to starve me and asking her to google pain meds and pregnancy because by that point I was pretty stinking miserable between my hunger and the pain and also sleep deprivation and not to mention I had no idea that I was never going back to Hell City again so I was still stressed out about what the little darlings were doing to my sub and the lesson plan for the next day. I think I called them sometime that afternoon before I found out the bad news and told them that I'd been admitted and still was there and probably wouldn't be in to work Tuesday either and just have them do whatever.

Anyway, my OB was on the phone (note: when my OB calls me herself, it's almost ALWAYS bad news. The only time she called me herself my entire pregnancy with Lucas was to tell me the amnio came back mature which I already knew from my nurse at the perinatal center, and after I had called her when my water broke. She called me twice in my brief pregnancy with Olivia- when my quad screen test results came back bad, and that day in the hospital.) She said my lab work came back really bad, that she wanted me to be transferred to another hospital and stay on bedrest there as long as we could, but we'd probably be delivering in a week or so. And there was a high risk doctor coming to see me and talk to me more. He came and suddenly waiting a week to deliver was no longer an option. (I found out later my OB called around a few more MFM's to get other opinions and try to find something, anything, to buy us a little more time. But they all agreed and said there was nothing.)

Everything was a whirlwind from there although not really. The last ultrasound. Going back to my hospital room after the ultrasound. The nurse asking what happened and crying with us. The ambulance to the next hospital. Talking to my OB at the new hospital. Getting prepped. And then surgery. Then she was born. And died. 2 miserable days in recovery on mag sulfate with our dead baby in the room because Joe wouldn't let them take her away and wouldn't let anyone set her in the little basket/cradle they brought her in. (That's still heartbreaking even in retrospect.) Finally, thank god for Heartprints Maggie who coaxed Joe into letting them take the baby for a little while with the promise they'd bring her back whenever we wanted. We were in bad shape. Finally the mag was stopped and I was brought to a new room away from L&D (but ironically ended up there with Lucas-thankfully not in the same room- b/c the hospital was so overfull with mom's and babies that they had to use 2 floors.) A few days later it was suddenly October, and we left without our baby, with a bag full of Olivia's "stuff", a scrapbook, some little books and stuff.

And here we are now, two years later.  Still missing her as much as ever. I made the mistake this year of trying to think of this day as little as possible. It's been quite a long while since I had a good hard cry. Heartprints Maggie says grief is like a cup that builds up overtime until you empty it or it overflows...and it is overflowing for me today. I don't remember last year being this hard, not that it was easy. This may be a multiple post day.

Oh Olivia, I wish you could have stayed.

September

This year will be the first September in two years I won't be pregnant (uh, pretty sure.)  Last year, September was my first month pregnant with Lucas, and the year before, it was the last month of my pregnancy with Olivia. Even though we were elated to be pregnant after trying for so long, my first month pregnant with Lucas was pretty rough emotionally. It didn't help that it is Olivia's birthday month. I was petrified that I was going to lose another baby in September, so I mostly held my breath and expected a miscarriage every other second or so. And the year before, everything went wrong in September. The entire month was one problem after another, first the quad screen, then her growth, then the pain, and then it all blew up and was over.

I'm still not much of a fan of September. We have to decide what to do, or not do, for Olivia's birthday.

I know a lot of babyloss moms like the term "angelversary", so I occassionally use it if I'm talking to another babyloss mom who I think prefers the term, (and I'm not offended or annoyed when someone else says it), but I honestly really hate that term. It just seems like a much too cutesy/happy/nice way to describe something that still really sucks. Like, oh, it's okay that she died because now she's an angel. Screw that. It's not okay that she died. It will never ever be okay.

This month is just rough, emotionally. I've spent the last few months dreading it. But here it is. In most ways, it's so much better than last year,  as I'm holding this 4.5 month old blondish brownish haired blue eyed baby boy peaking up at me from his nap and probably wondering what the heck is wrong with mommy. He gives me a big sleepy smile and drifts back off to sleep. He is big (95%ile for height at 27" and 92%ile for weight at 17 lbs 10 oz) and healthy and perfect and the light of our lives. But it's complicated this year, I almost feel guilty for being sad and still grieving, though I know it's normal. We are so lucky to have him, but damnit, on the other side of the coin, it still freaking sucks that Olivia is not here. I tend to dwell mostly on the "we are so lucky" side, because its easier, but sometimes it's impossible not to still be sad, too.

9-28-2010

We were determined to celebrate Olivia's 1st birthday this year. She may not have been here for very long, but her life still counts and we will always celebrate her birthday.

First, there were cupcakes:

  

And then, there were balloons:

Which we released into the sky, at Olivia's grave:

 

And then we went by the Angel of Hope in St.Charles:

 

All in all, it was a nice day. Not the way we ever would have imagined spending our first child's first birthday. Happy birthday, butterfly baby, we love you.