A Day of Play During Pregnancy After Loss with Pictures

Nick and I have been very hesitant about really diving into joy with baby No. 2 as most of you know if you keep up with the weekly Knocked Up Blogger Posts I write over at Pregnancy and Newborn Magazine.  But today we took a few more steps into momentary happiness this week by having fun with our camera and continuing to bond with baby. 

We are keeping up with Nick's idea to take a monthly seasonal picture of the belly bump and today I can honestly say we had some winter fun doing so, but I do have to admit that even sharing pictures like this makes me nervous. But, like I said in last weeks Knocked Up Blogger Post, "I would be even more disappointed in myself if I didn’t at least try to enjoy every moment I have with her because really all we get are moments." 

Here's to the moments of today.  Check out our pictures below.

(P.S. You can't see it, but we are under the tree that Nora's bird house is in.  She is always there. Aren't you little girl!)

Week 26: Bonding with baby - Knocked Up Blogger Post

It's been challenging bonding with baby No. 2 out of fear that she might not come home too.  So Nick and I have been intentional about doing activities to connect with this baby. You can read about it here.

“Around other pregnant people I felt, ‘Well I’m not really pregnant the way you are.  I’m sort of pregnant. I might be having a baby.’ ” Is a quote I read by a fellow loss mom reflecting on her past journey of pregnancy after loss.  I laughed out loud at how absurd the comment sounded, a full belly laugh, while my brain screamed, “THAT’S IT!” That’s what if feels like this pregnancy, like I might be having a baby or that I’m only a little pregnant. This whole time while pregnant with baby No. 2, I have felt distant from the child growing inside me, almost in denial that I am actually pregnant.  This denial stemming from fear that this baby, too, might not come home. The quote I found put my denial into words perfectly.  I felt so validated reading those words.

Then last week, I went to my scheduled therapy appointment with my oh-so, wonderful therapist who  has kept me sane during this last year as I walked the dark road of grief and now anxiety with expecting again.  I told her about the quote I found and how I felt it was so true and went on and on, thinking she was also going to validate my emotions. But, then she did something I wasn’t expecting, but in hindsight I realized I much needed, she became very quiet and in a soft voice she simply said, “Lindsey, you only get to be pregnant once, with this baby.”

I paused, staring at her in surprise by her response.  Moving my gaze from her to my lap, looking down almost in shame, I said, “I know,” under my breath.  In that moment I had an epiphany, (one I saw coming but still it was a turning point either way) in which I decided that I needed to really try to make a connection with this baby.  If I’m honest, at times I still feel like I’m preparing to give birth to baby No. 1 and this kind of thinking, along with all the other events of the last week, and probably the last year have helped me realize that Nick and I need to start being intentional about bonding with this baby, baby No. 2.

So, in efforts to connect, Nick and I have been taking a leap of faith and are facing the fear of losing by being intentional about loving and preparing for baby No. 2.  Some things we have been doing more of include:

• Talking to Baby happens most nights for about 10 minutes before Nick and I go to bed.  Nick will rub cocoa butter on my belly and talk to baby with his face pressed up against my naval.  It’s really quite sweet.  I talk to baby too.  Usually, in the mornings in the shower or when she kicks me really hard.  Nick was out of town this past week and when he came home first thing he did was kiss me and then kiss baby in the belly.  It was heartwarming.
• Kick Counting I have read that it’s recommend to expecting moms to start kick counting around 28 weeks so mom can get in touch with baby’s daily routine and patterns.  I have started a little early, but already baby No. 2 seems to have a schedule of her own that is nice to tune into.
• Guided Meditations to get in tune with baby. I found a great free 20 minute guided meditation online that I have started doing this week.  I really love it.  I get to spend that time saying affirmations and sending intentions to my baby while focusing on her kicks and squirms which has really helped me connect with her as an individual.
• Purchasing Items that are just for her.  Baby No. 2 will be getting a lot of hand me downs from her big sister and having an item or two that was bought with the intention of being for her helps me realize that this is a different baby this time around.
• Using Her Name. Yes we know her name and are using it between the three of us (Nick, me, and baby No. 2) we just aren’t sharing it.  Using her name really helps connect with her because it helps us distinguish this pregnancy between her and her older sister.  It makes her seem more real.

I have to admit, it is really scary to bond with this baby.  There is still a part of me that wants to disconnect out of fear we won’t be able to keep her.  But then I think about my therapist’s words and also think about how I would feel if we lost this baby too.  I would be devastated, but I would be even more disappointed in myself if I didn’t at least try to enjoy every moment I have with her because really all we get are moments.

Knocked Up Blogger Post Week 25: Trust

I have a hard time trusting my body during this pregnancy because of how the last pregnancy ended.  I wrote about how I'm learning to trust my body again after pregnancy loss in this week's Pregnancy and Newborn Magazine Knocked Up Blogger post.  Read about it here.

It took me 30 years to come to terms with my body.  To accept all of her beautiful flaws and revel in her extraordinary womanly wonders, such as being able to create, support, and maintain life, not just my own but that of another.  It was during my first pregnancy when I really saw the exquisiteness that is the feminine being in which my essence resides. However ever since my body betrayed me on the day it decided to no longer keep my growing daughter safe, I have been thrown back into the place I was for the past 30 years, trying to learn how to re-accept, re-love, and re-trust this vessel I walk my days in.

In the early days after my womb failed to protect my daughter from death, I resented my body.  I was angry at her, feeling betrayed by her in every way a woman can be.  It was like being betrayed by a lover, one you gave yourself to, your trust to completely only to have it snatched away in a blink of an eye. But this infidelity is harder to live with, 10 times worse than a lover leaving, because when I wake up each morning I see the woman who betrayed me in the mirror, I see the body that failed me and my baby.

In between pregnancies I somehow came to a place of forgiveness with my body.  My spirit and physical being seemed to make amends with one another.  It’s almost like they had to, like two divorced parents, learning how to coexist and live together in order to be able to raise their child, but in my situation, it was in efforts to conceive another one. This reconciliation seemed to work for conceiving, but that thin treaty of trust forged between body and soul was breached the day the pregnancy test came back positive.

Now that I am pregnant again, trusting my body to be faithful to the feeble promise of growing new life and producing a healthy, ALIVE baby has been challenging to say the least. I struggle with comments I hear from other mothers with living babies and health care providers who say, “Your body knows best.” You see my previous story line is different.  My body last time didn’t do certain things it was supposed to do to help protect me and baby.  I have a deep fear that the lady caring for my baby—my body—no longer has my baby or my best interest at heart.

With all this anger, second-guessing, and betrayal living inside of me, I still ache to trust my body again, to believe she wants the same outcome as my soul—to give birth and life to a healthy, living child.  I’m struggling with trying, every day, to trust her again, as I really have no other choice, but like a watchful mom leaving her kids with a babysitter for the first time, I’m always checking up on her.  I have one eye on my daily tasks and one eye on my body, double-checking every ache, baby movement, and bodily fluid that she produces.  It’s a daunting task, hovering over her in this way. So sometimes, when I can no longer take the daily questioning of my body’s loyalties, I give in and accept a strange notion that crosses my mind from time to time, that her failure in the past might not be a betrayal at all, but a war on her that she just could not win, no matter how talented of a solider my body might be and no matter how hard she fought, maybe my body was let down too.

Knowing this and learning to accept it has helped me in starting to practice trusting her again.  I write my body letters about how I feel as a way of communicating my conflicting emotions to her in a journal.  I started repeating a mantra daily that goes like this, “I trust the infinite wisdom of my body to protect this baby and produce life.” Even though it’s hard for me to really believe at times.  I’ve also spent more time in silence, with my body and baby, getting to know my growing belly, feeling the normal belly aches and baby kicks and monitoring my weekly bodily changes.  All the while holding a conversation in my mind, pleading with my body each day to please try again, one more time, to keep this baby safe and produce life. Maybe then I can love her again.

8 Questions to Reflect on After a Year of Grief

Today I'm over at Still Standing Magazine today reflecting on a year of grieving my daughter.  Check it out by clicking here and let me know what questions you still reflect on after a year has passed. 

Knocked Up Blogger Post Week 24: Holding Space for Grief & Joy

"Sometimes I fear that others will overlook my grief now that I am pregnant again. That the birth of a new child will somehow make people forget about my first daughter.  I worry that sometimes, I do this too."

This week in my pregnancy after loss post I talk about the difficulty of holding space for a deceased child and an unborn child at the same time, holding space for grief and joy simultaneously. To view this week's Knocked Up Blogger post click here.

Sometimes I fear that others will overlook my grief now that I am pregnant again. That the birth of a new child will somehow make people forget about my first daughter.  I worry that sometimes, I do this too.  I admit it’s hard not to get lost in the excitement of expecting again, and at times I do not want to go back and visit the darker moments of my painful past. But my sorrow over the death of my first daughter is always with me, and I want others to know that it’s OKAY to acknowledge my grief over the loss of one of my children while holding onto hope and excitement in planning for another.

I bring this up, because as I write this, I am one day shy of the one-year anniversary of my daughter’s stillbirth.  A year ago from tomorrow my daughter was brought into this world, perfect at full-term, but lifeless due to a fluke infection.  As I reflect back on the events of last year and also look ahead to the plans for the future, I sit in this uncomfortable spot where I struggle to find a space for both my grief and joy. It’s as if I’m parenting two children, one in memory, and one in dreams to be, but not a single one in the physical realm of reality. It’s a tough job, parenting this way, and finding room for my conflicting emotions about both is almost tougher. But somehow, some way, I have been able to find space in my soul for both of these children, and both the feelings of grief and happiness I am experiencing all at once because of them.

A wise woman once told me that this phenomenon, this ability to hold space for a dreadful emotion and a joyful one at the same time, is part of the beauty of being human. We CAN and are ABLE to hold space for both grief and joy, pain and pleasure; after all these emotions I’m experiencing were all born out of the same place, they were all born out of the love I hold for my children. So, why wouldn’t I be able to find a place to carry both in my heart simultaneously?

My only hope, as I approach the year anniversary of my first daughter’s death, is that others will be able to do the same and will be able to hold a space for acknowledging my grief over the loss of baby No. 1 along with my happiness for baby No. 2. Which means that people will be able to see that a new baby, a new child, a living child does not replace the one that came before, the one that breathes only in my heart, the one that is deceased. It’s just the same as if my first child had lived, the love I hold for my first child is not replaced by my second living one. If anything, love just grows, only in my story love grows alongside of grief, intertwined like the thorns and leaves of a rose, budding with beauty, as the love I embrace for both.