Grey’s Anatomy

Wow. This season has been a roller coaster. I have missed quite a bit of it due to work. I knew that watching it would be had due to April’s pregnancy complications and the fact that Arizona is now a fellow for someone who operates on babies still in the womb. It’s tough as a loss mama.

However, I am more able to handle this now than I was a 2 years ago or even a year ago. I am not healed. I will never stop missing our babies. I just handle it better.

My job helps in some ways. I have my dream job, maybe not at my dream location, but I am doing something I truly love. It has its rough moments. I get sad by my job and have even had a panic attack. Thankfully, even though my coworkers don’t know me very well, there is one who has at least been helpful.

How do you cope? Complete avoidance? That never worked for me.

Remember 2013

**just a warning, read this alone, there is some touchy stuff in here**

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Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Day. The truth is, people don’t talk about loss. A lot of times, it is dismissed and made to feel insignificant. For me, it isn’t.

I have mentioned a couple of times that I have miscarried twice. I think of my babies often and will never forget them. I know they are in heaven with their Grandma Jean and our puppy that died, Midnight. I know that even though they couldn’t be here with us, they are with us always.

I don’t go into too much detail of our losses often anymore, it is still painful and I choose to greive quietly. Not today.

Both of our losses happened in our first year of marriage. The first, we found out we were expecting 2 weeks after our wedding. We were elated. It was to be my first pregnancy with my husband by my side and his first born. We told his family, not even thinking of the horror that was coming. From the first time I saw that second line, it was a baby, no matter what was going on inside my womb. I came out of the bathroom and told Brian that I thought we needed more groceries because I was going to be hungry.

Less than a month later, it was the hottest day of the year and our aur conditioning was broken. I called to try and get someone to fix it. No dice. Brian had to call a friend to get him to come fix it. By that time, I was dehydrated despite trying to drink water. We headed to the ER. That is where we found out that dehydration might not be my only problem.

It was a series of ultrasounds and blood work. Blighted ovum was the diagnosis. I miscarried a little over a week after being treated for dehydration. I stayed home and had a natural miscarriage. It was the most painful thing, both physically and emotionally. Brian stayed by my side the entire day, thankfully, it was his day off.

I know that a blighted ovum there was no baby, but for us, there was, to us. It was a baby as soon as the test was positive. We had a feeling it would’ve have been a girl, we named her Angelique Marie.

Months later, we found out again we were expecting. This time, we made it to an ultrasound. There was a baby in there! It was spring and we always referred to the growing being as “Sprout”. We heard the heartbeat and we were on cloud 9 showing off our pictures of our little Sprout.

Less than a week later, I started spotting. We were devastated, but hopeful. We went to the ER, they claimed to see the heartbeat on their antique ultrasound machine. We were, ok. But I had a feeling of something being off.

A few days later, I went back to my doctor for a follow up. I had a friend with me and the tech was quiet. I looked at her screen intently, looking for the heartbeat that I knew deep down wasn’t there. My intuition was correct. I could barely call Brian at work to tell him the news. I was numb with tears just flowing. My sobs wracking my body. I don’t remember the ride home.

I was scheduled for a D&C later that day. Brian met us at home and my friend stayed with us and him while I had my surgery. I stayed numb for days.

I took 6 weeks off from work, the maximum I was allowed. I wasn’t sleeping. I couldn’t function as a wife or parent to Charity. The months that followed losing Sprout were some of my darkest. I was finally treated for PPD. How could I have that when my baby died? It wasn’t fair. During my 6 weeks off, I found a new job. I had worked at the same job for over a year and had both of my losses while working there. I had lost my passion for baking completely with my losses. Also, our car was stolen. Way to kick me when I am down, eh?

My losses were 9 months and 1 day apart. We kept Sprout’s name and gave him a middle name, Ryker. His name and Angelique’s were part of a memorial service a few months later that the hospital put on for all of the lost babies. I couldn’t bring myself to go to it, it was too painful.

I am the face of loss. I am 1 in 4, twice. I will be lighting candles for my babies tonight and saying a prayer for all the angel babies, the ones talked about and the ones kept quiet. Will you join me?

Holidays…

Holidays for us here are different. It usually depends on what kind of job B has during that time.
Easter, mothers day, father’s day, memorial day, labor day, new years eve, and valentine’s day you can almost always count on a chef working. Especially mine. The other major holidays, they vary.

Currently B works at a place that will give him most holidays off. This Sunday may be the exception due to the opening of a new restaurant. He may have to work easter, my other favorite holiday (thanksgiving being my number 1).

B had missed many of the mentioned holidays since we have been together. Sometimes, I could go eat at the restaurant. Alone at the empty cocktail area, of course.

B did take a little of a year off. He worked his tail of to become an estimator at a lumberyard. He made decent money and it was honest work. A much needed break for him. A break that caused me to quit school and work full time as an assistant manager at a gas station. It nearly ruined our marriage. It was nice to have a semi normal family life, except we had to work around my sleep schedule.

Holidays aren’t the only thing B has had to miss out on. He wasn’t there after I found out we lost the first baby. He stayed with me after I lost the second but was drowning himself in his work the next day, unable to sit idle while I slowly crept into a deep depression, something I struggle with to this day, almost two years later.

I know he does what he can and he was there for me when I got my severe concussion and when C and I were in a car accident. He was able to wait in the waiting room while I went to surgery for the second loss.

No matter the day or the occasion, I know that B loves me and C and honestly that’s all that matters. We try to make the most of our time together when we have it. We know that we are loved by the other and we aren’t afraid to show it.

Just remind me of this past come Sunday when my husband is at work and there isn’t a jello egg in sight and I am cussing because my husband is at work. lol