21.

Twenty one days have now come and gone since we met our mighty Isaac. Today was a bit touch and go, but we got through it. And not only got through it, but I was productive today. The house is clean. We went to the grocery store as a family tonight. We ate homemade food, the washing is swishing away - I even gardened a little bit today. Not too bad for a bad day - - agree??

Back to my Isaac's birth story. I've have scheduled c-sections with my babies after I gave birth to my oldest child vaginally, and she got stuck on the way out. Not pretty. Not nice. Not pleasant. VERY painful. My c-section was scheduled with Isaac at 34.5 weeks because of the high amniotic levels I was carrying around. I was informed a normal water level is up to 25. 25-35 was high, and at 33 weeks I was toting around a level of 44 and gaining. And boy could I tell. During delivery the water was very apparent. Apparent spilling over onto the floor, apparent spurting out in a spray, and apparent when we ran out of suction cups. I filled over 3 containers - usually a woman needs one per surgery. My Doc said I set the record - - 12 liters., 25 pounds or so of JUST water. Nice.

I suppose the only other mishaps of the day was my IV and my spinal block. Friends, I was poofy head to toe with water. They could not find a vein to poke to save their lives. OUCH. And my spinal block - - my spinal block took FOUR attempts. Not fun. NOT comfortable. Not to mention it HURTS. Bee sting poke, my BUTT! I would have to say that was the closest I came to blowing a fuse, hunched over my WAY too big belly, try not to tip off the table, and trying hard to not be smothered by Andrew, who was trying to make sure I was staying put. Whatever.

Next time. Now, next time we'll talk about the birth of an angel, my angel. We'll talk about it when I am a little more with it, and a little more strong.

Till then, Ladies. I love you. Each and every one of you.

It's time.

Me and my greatest friend and husband, Andrew.

Me and one of my dearest friends/sister/neighbor/girlfriend, Lisa.

My sweet, sweet baby boy, Isaac.


It's time friends. It's time to start writing the story about how we came to meet this sweet and perfect soul. The last of my family has left my home, and today was my first day home, all alone. I'll be honest and admit, it was hard. Not as hard as I had expected, but it was hard for me. I've been distracted the last week having my grandparents here making plans with me each day.... today there were no plans. Just me, home with the kids, and my grief, which is still very much there. The grief, although I feel it at some level all of the time, is not what one would imagine. I still feel joy and peace and comfort. I still feel happy and blessed and content. I feel all of those things mixed in with the dull heart ache of losing my child. It's manageable. Do-able. Bearable. None of which I would wish on my worst enemy, but we're making it - - one step at a time.

April 8th was the day our sweet Isaac was born into the world, living. I stayed up the entire night before.... cleaning the house, folding clothes, pacing back and forth. I fixed my hair, did my nails..... packed and re-packed my bags. 5am finally arrived, and Andrew and I picked up Lisa, and we headed to the hospital. Our check in was un-eventful, although the nurse was a bit of a dumb ass and had not been informed about our situation. She went on and on about the nursery safety guidelines until I finally spoke up and told her that my baby was going to die that day. She looked at me with a blank stare, and went on with what she was doing.

Once we got to our room I put on my lovely gown, and was of course bare-assed. I joked with Lisa that she was going to see a "new side of me", as I scooted over to my bed. The nurses came in and did all those things that nurses do.... and would you believe me if I told you the nurse assigned to me that morning was PREGNANT?? She sure was, and obviously so..............




I'm going to continue Isaac's birth story over the next several posts, complete with pictures. I also wanted to very much thank those of you whom have visited here with me and have left behind your love and support. I'm not in good form these days, but I plan to visit each of your blogs, that you call home, but I wanted to say thank you, in the mean time. I have been so touched (and surprised) by the great numbers of visitors and commentors. We're breaking records around here.... all made possible by one sweet little baby boy, with a very mighty soul. I'll be in touch.

Dear Anonymous.

I found this comment on my blog this morning:

"Holy f$&k you're retarded and deluded- I suppose it's not surprising from one so religious as yourself. The thing that came out was not a person: it was a meatdoll, devoid of consciousness- it was less a being than a lizard or dog. The best thing to do would have been to abort it. Quick tip for you: there is no god. "

To which I would like to reply:

Dear Anonymous,

As we each have our opinions, I would like to thank you for sharing your own. As a brother or sister through our Father in Heaven, I would like to say that I love you. For every miracle in life, there is equal adversity. My heart is sad for you because of the anger you carry in your heart. I've been there, I know what that feels like. Some thing in your life has caused you to feel that way, which is unfair, and I am sorry for your hurt. For my precious and perfect son - with out a perfect body, he still lives on with a perfect and whole spirit. We cannot always touch and see the things we believe in the most. I wish you happiness, peace, and harmony in your life.

Your Friend,
Misty

Tinkering...

It's quiet in my home, and I'm up late tonight trying to re-design my own blog to incorporate my sweet little Isaac. Stay tuned for the end result.... which could take a little time.

It still feels like a dream, friends. I sit here sometimes and I think to myself that no one knows. No one knows I carried a baby nearly full term, and that he died in my arms 70 minutes later. I look at people I don't know, and I know they have no idea I am bleeding for a child whom I wasn't able to raise, that my milk is in my breast needlessly, that my c-section aches, but that there is no baby to care for. I have FOUR children, although strangers only see three. I want to scream to a passer-by that I just had a baby, and handed him back to GOD.... and now I want him back, for keeps.

I want to claim to the world that I am surviving this nightmare. That I feel alone. And lost. That my whole being aches for my child, whom thrives in the afterlife. But some how I still have faith in our Maker, our Savior. I still have hope for healthy little ones to fill my womb in the future, that I still believe God will make this right and help my heart and family to heal.

Some how it'll happen, too. This I know. For sure. With out a doubt. Some how........

Helping your children heal.

As the days pass, losing the baby gets harder. Normal life is settling in, and the loss is more apparent. Nothing seems natural. I hurt, my kids hurt, my husband hurts. I'm moody, I don't feel well, my hernia hurts, I'm still water logged, and I just feed plain old mean. I've had a migraine for three days and I'm not sleeping well.

I was sorting through the baby's things this morning. Getting his memory box together. I came across a book the hospital sent home with us.... concerning all things grief and your children.

We are going to work on this today:

Make a notebook for your child to write or draw about how he or she is feeling. When your family talks about the person who died, get it out and make lists. These might be titled:

1. What I'd like to say to the person who died

2. Thing that make me sad/angry/scared/confused

3. People I can talk to about my grief

4. Questions I have about how the person died

5. Where I go to feel safe

6. Things I worry about

7. What I do to have fun

It has been a struggle for me to un-hook from my own feelings, and concentrate on the children. I'm here, but not really, if that makes any sense. I've been able to check in with the kids a few times a day to see where they are at with their feelings, and they come to me when they want to cry or share how they feel. It's a good start, but I need to do more.

So. Today. It's going to more about them, less about me. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'll be checking back in.....

Feeling it.

This picture was hard to get. Olivia had had it by this point Wednesday evening, but I REALLY wanted a picture with ALL of my babies together. My husband did his best, and after a final edit from my girlfriend, this is what we have: A not so perfect picture, that is PERFECT to me.

Oh how I miss this little one. We're all struggling. This is a heartache that I have not felt before. I think of the years of abuse and abandonment we suffered as children. That heartache I felt for years compares nothing to how my heart ache now. I cannot even begin to explain the grief my body hurts with, and how I ache to be raising this child, loving him, and holding him. I fall asleep in tears, wake in tears. Yet some how, though this, I know we will come out better and more strong. I know the sacrifice I made for my God was complete and whole, and will not be forgotten.

There is so much to share. The funeral was lovely yesterday. There is a slide show I am working on. My childhood best friend is working on editing my favorites for me..... I have so much I want to write about. But, there isn't a lot of time right now. The children are home for the entire week... it's spring break now. My focus is on them, and helping their sweet little broken hearts heal. Oh the pain I feel watching my sweet children long for this child....

I'll be in touch as I can, and soon enough I'll be posting much, much more. I have a feeling writing may be one of the only ways for me to begin the healing process.

Thank you for listening, sweet friends. How I love you, and appreciate you. And to all that have written and commented... some time soon I'd be stopping by your blogs and getting to know you, too. Thank you for reaching out.

Isaac Brigham Nielson

Isaac Brigham Nielson. Perfect in every way....

Mommy, Daddy, and Isaac.

Perfect feet...

Loving my boy....

Holding Isaac after my surgery. Enjoying more minutes with my perfect boy....

Daddy holding Isaac. Ian meeting his brother for the first time, having to grow up too quickly.

Meet my perfect boy. Words cannot express how much we love and, and how our hearts now ache for him. I am exhausted from my surgery, but am thrilled to be home. We have so much to share with you, and plan too... a little bit at a time, as I have energy.... Starting with: Isaac lived for 70 minutes, a perfect gift from our Father above.