Milestone Birthday

5 years ago today we said a very brief hello and goodbye. The 22 weeks we spent with Max can never make up for the lifetime we feel like we missed out on. 

This year especially, is a milestone birthday. 5 is a big number! I find myself seeing ads for Secret Life of Pets 2 and wonder if that might be a movie he begged me to go see--considering he shares a name with the main pup!

I watch the little soccer and Tball games and wonder what sports he would have loved. Sometimes the hardest is to wonder where he would fit into the boysquad. 

Would he have been loud and boisterous like Teddy? Flying down the neighborhood with his bike and spending hours outside

Would he played quietly for hours like Parker building legos, coloring and creating with an amazing imagination?

Would he be sensitive and silly like Jack?

I'll be honest, milestone birthday's suck more than others. I can almost feel and see what he would be doing but yet I can't.

I ordered a birthday cake for him, like I do every year, and was asked what I wanted for flavor and design. Internally put off, I thought to myself, "How would I know!? My 5 year old could've told me by now." We reached an age this year of not just guessing interests and favorites but an age of understanding them and cultivating them. Max could tell me this year the type of cake he wanted, who he was going to invite and what he wanted to do.

The sting of parenting a child who isn't here is the wonder and frustration that everything you think "might've been" is just a guess. The disappointment of never hearing his voice, never seeing what eye color he had, or hearing his first word is hard, but it grows too. It becomes bigger. Not only did I not know these things when he was born, the whole future ahead is just a guess too. 

I want to say that my heart doesn't ache as much or my grief isn't as heavily triggered anymore, but that's really not true. This year, I envision a squirrely 5 year old more than ever. I'm more mad this year than just sad. My daily life has returned to normal, but the hard thing about grief as time goes on is the willingness and opportunity to talk about it diminishes little by little for me. Yet the weight of our experience remains the same.

However, God has worked through others in amazing ways to show us love. Some lovely people in our lives check on us each and every year, some people do acts of kindness on behalf of their love for our family and Max, and most of all this day brings our family quite close. We get a small cake, sing Happy Birthday and blow out some candles for such a special little boy.

So, here we are, 5 years later. Somethings better, most things just the same. I'm glad I'm still writing on this page, I'm glad I have taken time every year to reflect on my journey with Max. It's not easy to talk about it, but I always feel better once I do.

To my little boy who made me the mom of 3, I miss you so terribly, I wish you were here everyday. 

Hard

Pregnancy after loss is really hard. Harder in certain ways a second time, and more emotional than I expected. I thought I'd be more confident, positive and not so scared. Reality took longer to set in this time. I felt more dettached in the beginning, not even really deciding if I would even say anything about it over social media until baby arrived.

I found myself feeling way more protective and introverted about my feelings about this pregnancy. I felt comfort in hiding behind my jackets and zip ups. I really loved my secret. I didn't like worrying the boys would bring up Max to strangers that made feel way too vulnerable again.

In a way I felt like I was letting myself down a bit. I wanted to so badly enjoy every moment and instead I found ways to avoid the conversation and really anything that came with it.

There was always an ongoing wrestling match in my brain when appointments were coming closer. My calm logical side told me to relax, things were out of my hands, and enjoy. My fearful and protective side reminded me of how things went the one time I felt like everything was okay and it wasn't. Either way, I always had a plan. Where I would go, what I would do, who would I tell if devastation struck us again.

I still continue to feel the worry of "jinxing" myself, becoming too attached again, and all the what ifs. But in this journey I continue to think of my sisters in loss, the mothers I have relied on to get me through bad days, agonizing appointments, and understand my illogical thinking. I am humbled when I remember the moms who reached out to me in their own losses and leaned on me the same way. It all reminds me that grief and loss won't get any easier for anyone--ever, but talking about it helps. It helps to know there are others out there willing to lend an ear and I hope know I am always here as well.

So, I'm writing to say that even after the storms clear and you're back to life as a new normal it's still hard. And even after the successful pregnancy and birth of another healthy baby brings back some of the joy lost to your grief before, it's still hard. And when you decide to have one more little one to complete your family, and you try to do everything right, and baby is looking healthy and well, it's still hard. But I had a break through this weekend.I had a couple days alone with Andrew last week and felt like we lived so freely. We bought a car-seat (yikes!!) and a cute onsie (bigger yikes!) but it was liberating. I still put everything away and came back into my shell of protection, but we lived a bit and enjoyed ourselves and it was really good.

So I want to live a bit more again, feel the excitement of this experience because that's what Max would've wanted. Life after loss is hard, living with grief is hard, talking about the baby you didn't bring home will always be difficult but we are so overjoyed and grateful to announce that Baby Scott #5 is on their way!

Finding Confidence; Staying Positive

As I wait for baby Scott #4 to make his appearance next month I find myself anxious and more worried than usual lately. It is hard to juggle all the mental and emotional things that come along with expecting after loss. After I lost Max, it truly made me feel that nothing is impossible. Unfortunately, very bad things can happen sometimes. I am thankful for the friends I can reach out to, the supportive husband I have, and the prayers and support I have received from friends and family for this entire pregnancy.

A few weeks ago I was struggling in the morning. I found myself crying over missing Max and worried that what if I can’t bring this baby home too. Andrew got me to shake my anxiety by taking me to the store to buy a going home outfit for our baby boy. Also walking around a baby store and laughing as an “experienced couple” about all the crap that baby stores make first time parents feel like they NEED to have to survive! Doing things like that certainly helps. Intentionally preparing and planning for baby Scott #4 after getting waves of anxiety and grief help me find comfort and confidence. We recently painted a nursery, got the crib set up, I even pulled out the newborn clothing from Jack and Parker. We even toured and chose our hospital for delivery (that was a whole other day of emotion!).

Our entire “birth prep work” feels so magical and scary this time. I just assumed it was something that would eventually come along with Max and then did not. So hiring our doula, starting Hypnobabies homestudy, creating my birth plan, figuring out a hospital for delivery have all been things that I assumed would have happened last year and this year am very thankful that I get to do. I find myself feeling like I’ve won the lottery when I started bi-weekly appointments or when I got the ability to say my baby is due to arrive NEXT MONTH! The scary part is just being worried about it all crashing down.

If you asked me what my biggest fear is I would say not being able to bring this baby home. However, my second biggest fear would be telling my boys, especially Jack that it didn’t work out. I try not to think about it but I just know how excited he is for a new baby brother. I think the disappointment and confusion on his face would certainly crush me. Again, I try to stay positive and intentional in front of them that baby brother is doing well and there is no reason to think he would not come home, but loss makes you very aware of the sad potentials sometimes.

So please, if you will, keep our family in your thoughts in this next month. That we and especially me, can find peace and times to celebrate and relax that all is well. That I enjoy watching Jack start school and embrace the one on one time with Parker. Also, that we enjoy lots of time together as a family before welcoming our newest member.

The Day Before

Many moms know the anticipation and excitement that comes the days leading up to big ultrasounds during their pregnancies. With Max, on the day of our anatomy scan we decided to send our boys up north to parents cabin so we could go to our Friday afternoon ultrasound on May 23^rd, 2014 and then to a nice dinner to celebrate finding out the gender of Baby Scott #3.

Well things didn't end up going to plan at all.

You can read in more detail about the first ultrasound with Max-HERE.

We left our doctor’s office in bewilderment, confusion, and concern. What was supposed to be a nice night to relax and connect as a couple turned out to be a disaster. I was so sick with worry I didn’t want to eat. We went to a movie to take our mind off of things. I kept pulling out Max’s ultrasound pictures and cry with worry. On Saturday we decided to head up to the cabin to join our boys and ease our minds. After all, we had no indication that Max’s condition was lethal—yet.

Since that horrible day and the weeks that followed things got worse. After Max’s diagnosis, I couldn’t eat, sleep, do laundry, or even feel capable to take care of my children. I felt that I was so unprepared to deal with the devastation (let’s be honest, who is ever prepared for grief and loss?!) that I wouldn’t let it happen again.

Next time I would be prepared.

When we got pregnant with Baby Scott #4, the anticipation, worry and some excitement on the day’s leading up to ultrasounds has put me into hyperactive cleaning, cooking, doing laundry mode.

A kind of nesting of sorts, but not the kind that you do before you expect to bring a baby home. It’s the kind that I like call the “I don’t know if I’m going to get devastating news again today so I need to be prepared to go home and not have to do a thing” kind of prep.

Tomorrow is another scan, more detailed than the last but hopefully one of the last ones if baby is growing well and looking good.

Yesterday, on my day off, I vacuumed my entire house, cooked extras of dinner, washed all the laundry in my house, swept the floor, mopped the floor, cleaned the bathrooms, and prepped myself for that just in case situation and headed to Zumba to dance my (larger) a$$ off and forget about everything for an hour (<----definitely the highlight of my day!)

It’s a ritual now.

It’s therapeutic to clean, fold, dance and get my mind off of the next few days, feel prepared for bad news and heck, who doesn’t LOVE a spotless house and a great cardio session!!?!?

I don’t do it in anticipation that tomorrow 6/7/15 will be a bad day, I am doing my best to stay positive that it will be a good day but the worry that consumes me will not allow me to just not do it. Kind of like I’m damned if I do—because I spend my entire day cleaning and focusing on quite not important things but I’m damned if I don’t—because if tomorrow brings not so great news I don’t want to have to worry about anything. So silly, I know.

So tomorrow is a big day, met with great anticipation, excitement, and anxiety. As I sit here writing these words my foot is tapping, legs are wiggling, hands are sweating, Baby S is kicking and my logical self sits here saying, “You know everyone is going to KNOW you’re crazy now.”

Yes, I am crazy, slightly neurotic I would argue. I will cry from the moment I walk in those office doors until long after I am gone regardless of great news (tears of relief and elation) or bad news (tears of disappointment and despair). Last time the specialist gave me a big box of Kleenex and said I could take it home if I wanted. 

So again, I ask for your thoughts and prayers. And again that no matter what news we are given that God keeps us close to Him. 

The Coexistence of Happiness and Grief

It’s been a while since I wrote on my blog. I always have good intentions about writing more but life, fear, and sometimes a feeling of “I just don’t want to go there today” get in the way.

I looked back recently on Facebook to realize that on 4/9/2014 we excitedly announced our pregnancy with Max with no idea of the circumstances in which we would meet him less than 2 months later.

 When we announced our pregnancy with Max, we were around 14 weeks. I was supposed to be “in the clear”.

Max was moving; we had a heartbeat, what was left? Had I worried or assumed something was terribly wrong I think everyone would've agreed I was overreacting. There was just no reason to assume we weren't going to take Max home.

Fast forward to 4/8/2015 and things are quite different and yet eerily the same.

We are pregnant again. 

We are elated, and terrified.

We have a big ultrasound tomorrow (4/9/2015) with a specialist who has been following us closely. So far everything has been well this pregnancy. We have had great ultrasounds so far. Baby’s has had a strong heartbeat and again we have no reason to assume that we won’t take this baby home.

Yet, it is very hard to live with the coexistence of happiness and grief. I have cried both tears of joy and grief, a lot. Easter was no exception. After our boys awoke to see the Easter bunny had visited I cried hard as I muttered to Andrew that there should be 3 baskets there, while still whispering to my sweet baby with me now, “I love you, and can’t wait to meet you”.

It is hard, very hard to grieve a baby who isn’t here and be joyous for another opportunity for our family to grow again. I am confident in saying that I am not replacing Max, there is just no way that I could ever replace my sweet little boy who I only got to be with for such a short time.  I am sure however, he played a significant part in sending another sweet baby to join our family and help soothe his mama’s aching heart.

This journey has been long so far. Some days just waaay too long, but I am working on finding that happy medium of grieving my lost son, and celebrating the opportunity to meet our newest.

So, I have somewhat forced myself to break down the things that I worry will “jinx” me. I told my family and Andrew’s family very early this time. I told my boys almost immediately as well. I have bought some more maternity clothes and last week even got a car seat from a friend. I want this baby to feel loved and celebrated, just like all my other babies are and were.

I feel free when I do things like that, and so far, so good.

 It’s not easy though to dive back into the idea of actually bringing this baby home. I quickly cleaned the carseat up that I got from my friend when I got home and put it down in storage. I can feel myself let go and enjoy a bit and then a little later feel a nagging tug to “not get too excited again!”

One of the biggest worries I have had is about announcing our new pregnancy publicly. It’s just not as easy as it was before and there is a lot of hope and fear that play out in my mind daily.

But since life has just not at all turned out to what I originally planned, I’m trying to go with the flow now.

So without further adieu:

Baby Scott #4 is due to join our family this fall 2015.

(Phew! That is a an intense sentence to write)

May I ask that if could please keep our family in your thoughts and prayers? 

Especially this sweet little baby that we are so hoping to take home this fall.  

Please pray that our ultrasounds go well and above all that no matter what happens that God keeps us close to him. 

As for today, we are celebrating that we are on our journey to meet Baby Scott #4!

Incomplete Holidays

Christmas has always been a favorite holiday for our family. Stringing up Christmas lights, putting ornaments on a tree, hanging stockings, it has always been such a happy time of the year for us.

The year that Nash died we put up our Christmas tree that very next week. It brought cheer and happiness back into our home again.

This Christmas feels different.

It is the first Christmas where my bright holiday cheer is clouded with feelings of sadness and loss. No matter how many smiles I have while hanging stockings, or setting out my Christmas décor—there is a hangover of grief that follows. It makes those cheerful feelings uneasy and jumbled. It makes me wonder and question what Christmas “should have been” for our family. It is the first year where we should have a brand new baby, with a brand new stocking, not just an ornament in remembrance. Something constantly feels like its missing.

This year our Christmas card looks much different than what we originally expected. We have a stuffed bear with recording of Max’s heartbeat instead of a newborn. Our family is well dressed and put together; we are exhausted but not newborn exhausted—grief exhausted. We are a family who looks complete on the outside but feels very incomplete.

How do I even begin to positively incorporate Max into a cheerful and joyous holiday when I am filled with such despair that he isn't here to celebrate?

To that I am sure we will find a way but it doesn’t make me okay with it. We have figured it out for the last 5 months and I know we will figure it out this month too but it is a hard time of the year to “wing it”. One year ago I would have never thought we would find ourselves here, trying to figure out how to make it through our first Christmas without our 3rd baby boy.

Bricks and Mortar

Andrew and I love road trips. We love road trips because some of our best memories together and best conversations have happened during road trips. I don’t quite know what it is but we always know a car ride is a great time for us to connect. I’ll never forget our first road trip to Andrew’s home, 5 ½ hours north, a little over a month after we met right after fall semester finals were finished. Or the time we were on a road trip through Texas and had to drive up the coast from Corpus Christi to Galveston and never even turned the radio on.

Nowadays, a road trip or just going for a drive allows a little bit of peace and quiet while our boy’s nap or watch a movie and usually involves a stop at Dunn Bros.

The road trip to and from my parents a few weeks ago was another great conversation.

Andrew and I got on the subject again about the loss of Max. In a more matter-of-fact manner we discussed how upon receiving Max’s fatal diagnosis we were extremely concerned about the future of us. Remembering how PPD and PTSD almost tore our family apart after the birth of Jack, we both agreed we had no idea how we would weather this storm at first. Besides the fear of grief and loss was a fear of loss on an even deeper level—our family.

We began to just reflect a bit on how we got here, almost 5 months later, still standing and still standing strong. He began to paint such a great picture in my head about our family and what that looks like I thought it was an awesome analogy to tell you about.

Andrew explained that families in general all start with a foundation. It can be built on many different things-- good or bad. A foundation is a foundation. Foundations that are well built with love, compassion, and receive ongoing care are strong. We know that and fight to keep our marriage and foundation strong every day.

After a foundation is laid comes the bricks. The bricks are all the tangible things in our lives that build a solid shelter around us. Things like our family, our jobs, our home, are all part of the bricks we use to feel safe, strong and construct more on top of our foundation.

 The mortar is literally what keeps the bricks together and sturdy from crumbling on top of us. The mortar of our shelter is the intangible things in our lives. It is the friendships we have, the faith we rely on, date nights, family memories, and everything that makes us realize how beautiful life here is.

So why was this so enlightening and helpful?

Andrew and I agreed that the earthquake of Max’s diagnosis hit our shelter hard. It shook our foundation to the core; it cracked a few bricks, and broke up some of that mortar that we had. We still feel the aftershocks and ripple effects. There is still the apprehension and worry to go out into the world again, wondering if another earthquake with hit us hard enough to really make us crumble.

 Even though we live with the concern that our shelter cannot take much more, we have chosen to rebuild and repair the damage and that has helped us the most. Just simply making the choice to wake up each day and get out of bed we are continuing to rebuild and repair. We have continued to create family memories, went on a date night or two, and honored our son, Max who we cannot take care of here. We created even more mortar in our lives, to pack into more bricks,that will allow us to build higher on an even stronger foundation than before.

The cracks in our bricks will never be forgotten though, no matter how much mortar we pack into them. There is still evidence that something indeed tragic happened. But we wouldn't want it all to look neat and pretty anymore because that wouldn't be a true reflection of our lives at any point. Our patch work tells a much more humble and thankful story now.