Still?

Isaac died April 8th. The morning of April 9th Andrew and I made the decision that by 8am, we would call the mortician to come for the baby. I remember feeling very angry when I spoke to the nurse about hospital protocol. She told me that Andrew and I would have to call the mortician to take IT away, that we would have to decide what time was best. I remember clutching Isaac to my chest and thinking how dare she call my baby an IT. She wouldn't be calling a LIVE baby an IT. What a bitch. I hurt too badly to do anything about it.

I had spent the night before beating myself up for being so tired. I was so frustrated with myself because I wanted to spend every second with Isaac that I could. I counted the hours down. I kept telling myself... I can hold him 8 more hours... then 5 more hours.... then two, then one. Then the moment came when Isaac was taken from my arms. Nothing has ever hurt me more. How could this be? How could this be that my baby was dead? That I was in these shoes? Not me. This was not for me. The craziness, where my mind went, the rocking back and forth until I fell against my pillow not being able to fight anymore. That. Was. Not. Me. Yet it was.

I asked the doctor to let me leave. I was able to the next morning. Lisa spent the night with me, Andrew was with the kids. All I could think about was how I was going to get the hell out of the hospital. Being stuck in that room. Listening to other new born babies cry. My baby was lieing dead and cold on some metal slab. I was stuck on the Mother Baby floor of the hospital like some sick joke.

Andrew came to take me home. I walked in like a zombie. Home. Not pregnant. No baby. Easter was a few days away. I phoned the funeral home, they could squeeze us in to dress the baby for burial. We had a 2 hour slot. I remember how fortunate I felt that we had 2 WHOLE hours. That seemed worth it's weight in gold. So off we went - Andrew, the children, and I. We walked in the small little room, and there Isaac lay, and he looked so perfect. He's beautiful, I told the mortician. The man that had cared for Isaac had done such a lovely job. He looked perfect. We took the children out, so that I could change Isaac's hat. We didn't want the children to see Isaac's missing head, and I was touched to see that the mortician had constructed the missing part of Isaac's head out of some sturdy material, so that his hat would fit nicely. We hadn't even asked for that. I was very touched by that gesture. Hannah and Ian wanted to help dress him, so I allowed that. We sat and held the baby, and Andrew took the children back to the car so that I could have a minute alone.

I laid Isaac on the table and fiddled with his blanket. He looked perfect to me. And yet there he was, lieing next to his casket. I picked him back up and held him close to my face and whispered to him how much I loved him. The man slipped back into the room, and asked if I wanted pictures with the baby. He took a couple. Sweet man.

I walked out of the room, in pain from my surgery, and stumbled to the car. Headed back home. Still no baby. Still empty arms. Still broken-hearted.

I relive that day still. Sometimes every day. It's still not me. How can this broken-hearted mother still be me?

Thy Will be Done.

I came across this last night:

All of the earth's Mothers were gathered at God's garden of flowers;

Those beautiful budding spirits

Who could someday come to earth

Were nurtured and tended in the Holy garden.

A Loving Father spoke to the Mothers of earth.

"See the works of my hands,

Someday you will be the mother's of these radiant spirits."

The Garden of God glowed with a mixture of all of the colors.

"Choose ye", He said.

Now in the East corner of the garden

Pure white roses stood as sentinels.

They were not so colorful as the rest,

But glowed with a kind of purity

Which set them apart.

One by One the Mothers stepped forward;

"I want the blue eyes one, the curly haired one,

Who will grow to maturity and be a mother in Zion."

Yet another chose a brown eyed brown haired boy,

Full of life and love

That would someday be a prince in a grand country.

The Garden buzzed with excitement as the others with their own special spirits

Those they would soon welcome into the warmth

And love of an earthy home.

Once again, Heavenly Father spoke;

"But who will take the White Roses,

The ones in the east corner of my garden?

These will return to me in purity and goodness.

They will not stay long in your home

For I must bring them back to my garden

For they belong to me

But they will gain bodies as planned

You will miss them

And Long for them

But I will personally care for them"

"NO!,NOT I" many of the earthly Mothers said in unison.

"I couldn’t bear to give one back so soon"

"Nor I" said other mothers.

We will take those who will remain and grow to maturity

and live long lives.

The Heavenly Father looked out across the multitude of Mothers

With longing in his eyes for someone to step forward

SILENCE!

Then Heavenly Father said;

"See the most pure white and perfect of all the white ones?

I chose him.

He will go down and be a sacrifice for all mankind.

He will be scorned, mocked and crucified.

He is my OWN,

Will not anyone choose like unto Him?"

A few mothers stepped forward

Yes Lord I will

Then another as well

And then some in unison said YES we will

Soon all the pure white roses were taken

And they rejoiced in the choice in their mothers.

Heavenly Father spoke again

"Oh blessed are you who chose the white roses.

Your pain will be a Heavy Cross to bear

But your joy will be exceeding

Beyond anything you can understand at this time."

The white one embraced their mothers

And so full was their purity and love

That it filled their souls with such excitement.

Each mother knew they could endure the tasks.

The GREATEST of all the white roses gathered them

As a hen gathers her chicks

And the out pouring of love surrounded each mother and child,

Consuming all the white ones and their mothers

As he prepared them for their task.

Each mother who bore the weight of the white rose

Felt the overwhelming Love of God

As they all shouted

"Thy Will be Done"

"Parents who have surrendered the sweetest and smallest flowers from the family's garden need to remember our Heavenly Father. He has promised a special reward to those who now suffer in silence, who spend long days and longer nights through their trying times of bereavement. Our Creator has promised glory. He said, 'For after much tribulation come the blessings. Wherefore the day cometh that ye shall be crowned with much glory; the hour is not yet, but nigh at hand.' (D&C 58:4) That promised glory includes the blessing of reunion with each child who has left the family circle to help surviving members of the family to draw nearer to God. Those children still live and are a heritage to the Lord." Russell M. Nelson

How do your shoes fit?

I am wearing a pair of shoes. They are ugly shoes. Uncomfortable shoes. I hate my shoes. Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair. Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step. Yet, I continue to wear them. I get funny looks wearing these shoes. They are looks of sympathy. I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs. They never talk about my shoes. To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable. To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them. But, once you put them on, you can never take them off. I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes. There are many pairs in this world. Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them. Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much. Some have worn the shoes so long that days will go by before they think about how much they hurt. No woman deserves to wear these shoes. Yet, because of these shoes I am a stronger woman. These shoes have given me the strength to face anything. They have made me who I am. I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.



-Author unknown

Hiding out.

I’ve been struggling with the right words to write – the right topics to share – the right depth of honesty to bring to the table.

I’ll admit I’ve been frustrated. I’ve been frustrated with the lack of understanding from person to person. The struggle to get pregnant is a very personal one. For someone to tell me to “be positive” about it is offensive. They don’t know my inner struggle with intimacy. They don’t know how desperate I feel about having another child. Trying to get pregnant after losing a child is different than plain old trying to get pregnant. Trying to get pregnant WITH fertility issues is different than trying to get pregnant without. Having gotten pregnant easily, right after your baby died, is different than waiting now 7 months to become pregnant after your baby died. Trying for 18 months, is different than trying for 7. It’s a touchy subject for me. I don’t necessarily want someone else’s opinion. You read that right - - I DON’T.

I don’t like to be asked if I’m pregnant yet. I don’t like someone to ask where I am in my cycle or treatment process. Looking back over the last couple months has made me evaluate how much I want to share – what is too much, and what is too little. I think it all really boils down to how I feel about it - - if I want someone to know about it, I’ll share. Otherwise, don’t bother bringing it up. Like it isn’t a smack in the face?? Like it’s your business??

I’m starting to feel more excited for the holidays. My heartache is so heavy and constant over Isaac being dead, but we’re finding ways to include him. He’s mine. He’s unique, he’s real. I would have done for him had he lived, why should I lose out on that now??

Below are the kids for Halloween. They are darling. They give me so much joy. I’ll admit I think about the blessing of being able to “start over” with a new baby ALL of the time, but it has not taken away how much I LOVE my older babies now. I cherish and enjoy each and every day with them - - because really, who is to say that this isn’t it for me, too?? Love who you have. All the time.

Love, Misty

In order:
Isaac's pumpkin.
Olivia as a clown.
Ian as a ninja.
Hannah as a butterfly.

No dice.

Well, friends. Nothing happy to report here. My period started today. I'm feeling empty and sad tonight. But. Any child I have dreamed of before in the past, has been worth the effort and heartache it's taken to conceive him or her.

There is a lack of understanding when it comes to trying to conceive after you've had a child die. I'd had a lot of reactions. Most reactions could have been remedied with my middle finger, but I chose the higher ground. To ignore. To bite my tongue. Some people just don't get it.

They don't get what this next baby means to me. This next baby means that I am NOT done bearing children. This next baby means hope. Means new life. Means another chance. Another dream. This child means a dream come true. There is NOTHING more important to me, besides my faith, my husband, that compares to how I feel about motherhood. It IS my calling in life.

This next child does not mean I am replacing my dead child. Isaac's place in our family is secure and forever. The desire to raise another child did not die along with Isaac. The desire grew.

When Isaac died, my security did. The security I placed in knowing my dreams would come true died with him. People say to me "at least you KNOW you can get pregnant again". People say "at least you KNOW you can have healthy children".

Do I KNOW that? No. No, I do not. I "KNEW" Isaac would be born and that he was mine to raise. I took my pregnancy for granted. What I did not "know", was what was ahead. I did not KNOW he would die. I did not KNOW he would be diagnosed with a fatal birth defect, that he would die in my arms.

I do now KNOW if I can get pregnant again. I do not KNOW if I will have a healthy baby. My fate isn't my own choice. All I KNOW is that I want another baby. All I KNOW is that I am going to try. I don't KNOW if I have faith. I don't KNOW if God hears me.

All I have is my dream. And what is most important to me. For now anyway.

I know I am broken. That I am tired. That all I have right now is what I can claim for myself that is tangible. All I have is my dreams, what ever is left of them. That's what I KNOW. Anything beyond that? Some one else has those answers.

Uncle.

I've found myself anxious over getting pregnant again. Mainly because I REALLY want to be pregnant but I am PRETTY sure I am not. And, I'll be honest. I'm a little angry - well, maybe A LOT angry about it. Isaac already died. I carried that baby for God. The least He could do would to let me get pregnant right away, right?? I'm fully aware that's not how it works. I've gotten the short end of the stick for much of my life.... abandoned by both biological parents and adoptive parents. Molested. Beaten. Abused. Neglected. That was enough right?? Not so. I had to have the death of my youngest child thrown in there to. What's next? Job loss?? The death of my spouse? Something worse? Trust me, I don't rule it out. But. I will tell you this. I. Am. Broken. In pieces. I cry UNCLE. I cried it months ago.

I stumbled across this website this morning: www.recover-from-grief.com. I pulled off the information below:

7 Stages of Grief...

1. SHOCK & DENIAL-
You will probably react to learning of the loss with numbed disbelief. You may deny the reality of the loss at some level, in order to avoid the pain. Shock provides emotional protection from being overwhelmed all at once. This may last for weeks.

2. PAIN & GUILT-
As the shock wears off, it is replaced with the suffering of unbelievable pain. Although excruciating and almost unbearable, it is important that you experience the pain fully, and not hide it, avoid it or escape from it with alcohol or drugs.

You may have guilty feelings or remorse over things you did or didn't do with your loved one. Life feels chaotic and scary during this phase.

3. ANGER & BARGAINING-
Frustration gives way to anger, and you may lash out and lay unwarranted blame for the death on someone else. Please try to control this, as permanent damage to your relationships may result. This is a time for the release of bottled up emotion.

You may rail against fate, questioning "Why me?" You may also try to bargain in vain with the powers that be for a way out of your despair ("I will never drink again if you just bring him back")

4. "DEPRESSION", REFLECTION, LONELINESS-
Just when your friends may think you should be getting on with your life, a long period of sad reflection will likely overtake you. This is a normal stage of grief, so do not be "talked out of it" by well-meaning outsiders. Encouragement from others is not helpful to you during this stage of grieving.

During this time, you finally realize the true magnitude of your loss, and it depresses you. You may isolate yourself on purpose, reflect on things you did with your lost one, and focus on memories of the past. You may sense feelings of emptiness or despair.

5. THE UPWARD TURN-
As you start to adjust to life without your dear one, your life becomes a little calmer and more organized. Your physical symptoms lessen, and your "depression" begins to lift slightly.

6. RECONSTRUCTION & WORKING THROUGH-
As you become more functional, your mind starts working again, and you will find yourself seeking realistic solutions to problems posed by life without your loved one. You will start to work on practical and financial problems and reconstructing yourself and your life without him or her.

7. ACCEPTANCE & HOPE-
During this, the last of the seven stages in this grief model, you learn to accept and deal with the reality of your situation. Acceptance does not necessarily mean instant happiness. Given the pain and turmoil you have experienced, you can never return to the carefree, untroubled YOU that existed before this tragedy. But you will find a way forward.

You will start to look forward and actually plan things for the future. Eventually, you will be able to think about your lost loved one without pain; sadness, yes, but the wrenching pain will be gone. You will once again anticipate some good times to come, and yes, even find joy again in the experience of living.

Pee already.

Alright ladies.

I am sitting here tonight. It's 11:33pm. I have the STRONGEST compulsion to get a pregnancy test. Actually I have three shoved in the hall closet, but I REALLY want to take one and I REALLY want to see a positive. Trouble is, I REALLY should not be testing until the end of the month. Testing you ask?? YES. Testing. This is the first month Andrew and I allowed for a pregnancy to occur. I was able to start one of my fertility treatments, which showed success, so could this be the month??? Ya think??? Maybe???

Now.

What happens if it is not??

I think I might be a little heartbroken. Maybe even a lot. But. I have a plan B. I can go into my OBGYN and get my hands on the other 2 meds I've needed in the past to produce ovulation. So if not this month. Maybe one soon.

But.

I REALLY want it to be this month. Don't you REALLY want it to be this month for me too??