Craziness, counselling and control issues

I have quite a few drafts or ideas that I'd started writing, but I haven't really published anything for a while.
Well, let me update you on our grief journey and life in general. Babies are sooo busy and truly a great distraction. It was a huge adjustment having Madeline and the first few weeks were really difficult, but as she came to be a person in her own right to me and not just a baby that couldn't replace the child we lost, as I came to love her and opened my heart to her and her place in our family, that all stopped mattering. It was no longer about how she wasn't Max and I could let myself love her and not feel guilty because I learned that they were mutually exclusive people. I stopped feeling guilty about her having a place in our family and life got easier, for a while.
As things started to slow down and the business of babies and sleepless nights ebbed away, I often found myself really angry. I finally termed it 'hulk smash mad' (ya, I hang out with a 5 year old a lot). Even my husband was noticing and pointing this out, the littlest thing could set me off. Something so minute could go wrong and I would react like it was the end of the world. I started to realize that I was really mad, really reaLLY REALLY MAD that I had these two beautiful children to raise and not my third.... (or really, second child). How do 3 babies add up to 2 children? It's just not fair.
So ok, I'm mad and that seems pretty normal given the situation.
All of this is coming along as Oliver is starting to get very articulate about his thoughts too. Between Oliver's questions about death and my anger and this sense that 'this is our life now' and I didn't quite know where or how we were supposed to go on.... I realized I might need some help dealing with this.
I got myself in to see a counselor who I had seen many years before, I got her up to date on my history and explained that I thought we might need some help dealing with our grief. She was so wonderful to talk to and she reassured me that Oliver would be fine and that with my support and understanding he didn't need to see someone himself. She gave me ideas about how to talk to him and coax things out of him without leading him on or putting ideas in his head. Simply to keep doing what I was doing really, let him talk, if he brings something up ask him how he feels about that, if he's worrying about it and reassure him.
One of the most interesting things that came out of seeing her was that she thought I was doing ok with the grief, she was more worried about this sense of 'what now?' that I had. She started to talk to me about post traumatic stress disorder... I tried to laugh it off, I mean... I didn't go to war! But the more we talked about it the more I realized that she was right and I've since heard a number of friends who lost babies admit that they too were diagnosed with PTSD. Awareness is half the battle, learning to relax... there is no imminent danger to myself or my children, nothing outside of the norm right now. I guess it's about finding a new normal and learning to settle into it, easier said than done.
So after a few sessions talking about that I knew that I just needed to spend time thinking about it and finding ways to allow myself to relax and enjoy life. I was still struggling with the anger, but who or what was it directed at? This counselor was so patient and just let me talk it all out, she would pick up on the smallest thing I said and lead me down the right path. Maybe it's just easier to see when you aren't so close to the situation. Well, I had another big insight....the anger is at myself. I'm mad at myself for being frustrated at the kids, I'm mad at myself for not doing well enough as a mother. I'm mad at myself for not being able to grow and keep Max safe and healthy. I want to be able to make up for not being able to parent all three of my kids, therefor I should be giving %150 to each of the two that I have here. I'm not good enough, I'm not doing well enough.... I realize that that won't bring Max back, but maybe this was my way of punishing myself or trying to make myself live up to being their mother.
I have been trying to hold on to everything so tight, because I know that I can't control anything really, but maybe if I just do better, be more.......
Or maybe I just need to learn to let go, take a deep breath and enjoy the here and now. That's really all we have anyways.

Max's 3rd Birthday in heaven

We've just celebrated Max's 3rd birthday in heaven and I'm moving in my grief journey....moving on, moving forward, parallel... who knows, but I'm moving.
The last few months has been better in many ways, but also more difficult in others. As I find myself embracing the growth and progress of the other two, even being able to let go a bit, embrace that they do get to enjoy life and trying to let go enough to let them.... to not bubble wrap them... I also find myself seeing Max in other children. I knew so many babies born that same year, right around the time he was... I never used to let myself compare them, I was always reminding myself that he would have been very sick if he'd lived and couldn't have lived so there was no point in going there.... but I can't seem to stop myself now...
Maybe it's because when the grief was just too raw I couldn't even let myself think that, but now that it's mellowed, more bittersweet and not always so intense.... I see him in those kids and sometimes my heart lurches into my throat....and I let myself wonder, daydream really about how a sweet little boy like that might fit into the hole in our family....
Anyways, it's three years since I held him... Smelled his sweet head and kissed his soft cheeks.... and I still think of him everyday, always...I'm pretty sure I will still feel like this, even fifty years from now.
Happy Birthday my sweet boy!

Three little monkeys.... a post I was working on a while ago

It's been a long time since I've written anything. I've been really busy, but also changing...moving along in my grief journey. 
Some days I'm not sure how to live this life, this 'normal' life that I'm supposed to have. To most people it must look like a picture perfect, white picket fence kind of life. And I feel like I'm supposed to live up to that somehow, I'm supposed to be happy, satisfied....the picture of joy and wonder. Why wouldn't I be, after all, we have the perfect family...a boy and a girl. The list could go on about what is just right with my life, but if I wanted to list what isn't just right about my life I could make an equally long list. Mostly I try to focus on what I have to be happy about and mostly I am so very happy. Sometimes though, sometimes I can't help but think about what I'm missing, who I'm missing and how our family is missing him. I wonder how life would be with three kids, I wonder how they all would interact and play together. I want so badly to have that...to have three little monkeys giggling on the floor together.
My husband is always quick to remind me that we wouldn't have gone on to have Madeline if Maxwell would have lived and I know this, I know that we probably never would have had all three of them.... but I did, I did give birth to three beautiful babies and I did hold each of them. And I wanted to raise all three of them, I want to know what our life would have been like in this parallel universe. I want it all.

Maxwell's Birthday Fundraiser

What a blast we had planning and executing Max's birthday fundraiser and it was a huge success! It was truly a labor of love in his name and we really enjoyed having something that allowed us so much focus on him.








We chose to raise funds for the Kinsmen Foundation because we love their dedication to helping local families in need. They helped us travel to Toronto to see doctors when Max was diagnosed in utero with a congenital diaphragmatic hernia. They covered our travel and accommodation costs and were willing to continue to do so for as long as we needed to be there. They really do understand just how stressful it is for families in these situations and they did their best to make things as easy as possible for us.






So we wanted to help them to continue to help others in memory of our sweet little Max. We held our fundraiser at Schryer's Smoked BBQ house in Saskatoon on August 24th and almost one hundred people attended! There were silent auction items and door prizes and a 50/50 draw, it was fantastic and the food was great!

 Thanks to everyone who helped us celebrate Maxwell's second birthday in heaven and thanks for helping us raise funds for such a good cause!

Before and After

I think I will always think of my life as Before and After Max, especially the date of his diagnosis and the date of his birth and death. When I look back these are some of the most truly defining moments for us as a family. There is the general history of us, dating, our marriage, becoming parents, all normal and wonderful things and while I may have thought that these were life defining at the time....now they pale in comparison to the solid line drawn in my mind of Before and After.
Max's diagnosis and death forever changed my view of the world, in a way that I'm still learning about today. It's one thing to see terrible things happen in others' lives, to know that it's possible, but to still feel like those horrible things can't happen to us or any of my loved ones.
Slowly but surely life has settled into a new normal for us, but that defining line is drawn in my mind.... If someone talks about a past event or even if I look back a pictures of us, my immediate thought is that was either Before or After... The loss of our precious Max was truly the loss of innocence.

Happy 1st Birthday in heaven Baby Max!

 We had a beautiful celebration for Max's birthday at the baby memorial wall where we had his name added last spring. It's such a pretty place in the cemetery and we love to visit there often. We brought balloons to do a balloon release and everyone wrote a special message to send to him in heaven. The kids especially loved doing this and the party was truly started when some balloons got stuck in the trees. Oliver loved all the antics to get the balloons unstuck and then demanded that we get more stuck and do it again! We also brought cupcakes that my nieces helped to decorate for Max and they were a big hit too. Thanks to everyone who helped us celebrate!

This was really a day of mixed emotions for me. I didn't want the celebration to be sad and I'm so glad that it really was a joyful gathering of family and friends. However, the days leading up to it were difficult and so full of memories of labour starting, the waiting and worrying and the precious little time we had with him. It was so hard to believe it had been a year, somedays it still feels like yesterday...

 Instead of pictures of a one year old, I will share pictures of the celebration and some of the beautiful gifts we got as memorials. 

Happy Birthday little Max, hope our wishes found you in heaven.
Love always,
Mommy

Two boys and one girl

I thought I'd write about this as it has come up a few times recently for myself and a few others that I know.
I am and always will be a mother of two boys and one girl, that is how I think of myself. I have three children, one of them is no longer with me but I will always be his mother.
I know that most people just don't mention or don't want to bring Max up for fear of upsetting me. Don't worry, you won't. If I cry when you mention him, thank you for the opportunity to remember him. I won't ever forget that I have two sons, he is never far from my mind.
If you think I seem to be having a good day and you don't want to remind me...don't worry, it's not like I ever forget, even for a second, I'm just getting better at life again. And if I do cry, it wasn't you who made me, it was the loss of my child...and maybe I really needed to cry today.
I just want to clear this up, and I think I speak for many when I say that we appreciate remembrance of our children and will always think of ourselves as their mothers, whether they are here or not. Someone who has lost their only child is still a parent, likewise I will always think of myself as a mother of three.
I know that this is a touchy subject for many who have lost children, especially babies. When someone asks how many kids you have and how old they are....what do you say? Sometimes we go into detail (and people are sorry they asked), sometimes we don't, but we never forget. Sometimes filling out forms is awkward, there isn't always space or need for lengthy explanation....but we will never forget our child who is no longer with us.
Please don't feel like you shouldn't remember my child or mention him to me, he was and always will be a part of my life. His brief life meant as much to me as the lives of my other children, we just didn't have enough time together. It is what it is, denying that I ever had him will not change the fact that I lost my son. I choose to honour his memory instead.

Happy, healthy rainbow baby!

The D-day ultrasound went off without a hitch! Of course the technician couldn't tell us anything herself but by how quickly she was done scanning, I was pretty reassured that things were ok. The doctor and resident came in a little while later, went over everything again and explained that the baby looked perfect. She even rescanned the diaphragm to show us that everything was in place (I couldn't really make any if it out). Then she asked if we wanted to know the sex, which we did. We wanted to know absolutely everything, if they could tell me hair and eye colour too that would have been great! So she scanned a little more and settled on a picture, then pointed out that those were little girl parts! This picture was as clear as a bell to me. Such good and happy news about our rainbow baby, what a blessing! This mama's full of mixed emotions right now, very bittersweet.

Happy Canada Day!

July first, the eve of the big D-day ultrasound (as I've come to call it) and Happy Canada Day! As we enjoyed the beautiful weather today, hanging laundry on the line and lamenting that this is one of the last times for that with the move coming up, I was also remembering the day we moved in here. July first six years ago, we will move out after having lived here for six years and 15 days - give or take.
I can't help but to think how innocent and naive we were six years ago, those six years have been some of the best and worst of our lives. I think people often say that line, but most likely don't mean it as seriously as we do.
Anyways, we decided to stay close to home and pack and try to stay cool as our way of celebrating Canada Day. I've also been having a really tough time with the rapidly approaching ultrasound. It's been easy enough to put out of my mind, since there was nothing I could do about it, but now....it's driving me crazy. My nerves are very much on edge.
We went to an outdoor pool this evening for a quick dip and while I waited for Oliver and Andrew at the bottom of the water slide I had one of those moments where the grief hits you like a ton of bricks.  I thought, if things go badly tomorrow I know that the world will go on, but now I also know how empty things will feel.  This move to the new house, with the extra bedroom that I've started planning for the baby....it will all happen, but it will feel so...useless and empty. I know that feeling, I know about having to take those steps forward even when it feels like your world is crumbling around you....I know that I will get through it if I have to again, but I pray that God won't send us there again and that He won't put another baby through this.

Distractions

So we decided to list our house and look into moving. 'We're in no rush. Price it a little high' we told him... and it sold the very first day. Thankfully we found the house we wanted and managed to get it. We move in about a month! This all happened in the last two weeks, talk about a distraction.
So converging on us is July 10th: Oliver's birthday, moving day and 20 weeks pregnant (which means the ultrasound to rule out CDH). I should be fairly distracted in the coming weeks and have certainly had much less time to sit and worry about the odds, the chances and whatever else could go wrong. A blessing in disguise, I guess you could call it.
We are very much looking forward to the new house and Oliver's birthday. There is lots to plan and do, shopping for new appliances and window treatments and planning a birthday party. Oliver is excitedly awaiting his John Deere digger that he's picked out for his birthday, but we told him it will be there when we get to the new house. Tonight he decided he didn't want to sleep here anymore, he just wants to go to the new house and see his tractor! I think tomorrow we will have to make a count down calendar to help him understand the time frame...might help mommy too!
Busy, busy, busy....

Paddling up the river Denial...

I can't pretend anymore.... I've taken every kind of pregnancy test available and today the doctor confirmed it. For a little longer I think I'll live in denial, reality is too scary to ponder. To protect my heart (and sanity) I will continue as if nothing has changed. There may be a rainbow on the way, but I can't see it clearly yet.
Wow, I wrote that almost 3 months ago.... I'm pretty much over living in denial, my pants don't fit and the other day not only did I feel the baby move, I felt it from the outside. Ya, I guess I'm pregnant.
Some days it's still a little too fresh, too much of a reminder of Max, so denial is helpful...I may weave in and out of denial until the very end, who knows. The fact is it's a defense mechanism, it's too difficult to allow myself to be very hopeful. While I know that the odds are in our favor that everything will go well, to a parent who's lost an infant... giving them above 99% odds of a positive outcome seems like the reverse. That less than 1% chance is so gapingly huge, we know...we've been in it and now have so many friends who have too.
There are still a few weeks before they can rule out CDH and the waiting is torturous. I'm also all too aware of all the other things that can go wrong, having met so many people who've lost babies. It's no longer just our hurdle to get over, but also everyone else's as well.
Denial was helping me to protect myself from becoming attached to the idea that we might actually get to have a baby that we get to bring home and watch grow up.... and also from the guilt associated with wanting that, because it won't be Max. What a mixed bag of emotions!
I am finding that I'm more open to the idea, I wouldn't say excited, but certainly attached to the baby...with an awareness that nothing is forever, not our lives or our children's. Once again I leave myself and my child in HIS hands and pray that this child has a chance at life.

Well we're into May now... Sheesh time flies. We passed our first first...the anniversary of Max's diagnosis was April 26th. I'll never forget that day. I was scanning through Facebook posts of complaints about how ugly the weather was and thought about how nice it was the year before. What a beautiful sunny day it was, I went to my early morning appointment in sandals and capris and left my sweater at home. I was so excited to find out the baby's sex and had absolutely no idea that anything could be wrong. I'll never look at life through those rose coloured glasses again.
The other day I caught myself thinking it has been six months since Max was born, then I realized it's actually been almost nine. Almost nine months, he's been gone for almost as long as we had him. Wow!
I don't know when I stopped paying attention to the passage of time, I guess it got too painful to think about. I still don't like to think about it. It means it's been longer and longer since I've held him and it will still be such a long time until I can again. I will forever wait to see his face again.

We released balloons for him with the family on Mother's Day weekend. We really liked writing him notes and sending them to heaven. It's something we will do on his angelversary too, another first anniversary that's coming much too quickly.

Rantings.....

Today I am looking through the pictures from the day Max was born and as I'm sitting here crying all over the computer the phone rings, it's the genetic counselor wanting to book an appointment. I'm trying to compose myself and tell her that we'd like to meet with them and discuss their findings (even thought I'm sure there isn't any new news), but they'll give us an idea of chances of having another child with CDH. She starts telling me how sorry she is for my loss and asking me if I've been doing ok and saying how she knows that anniversaries of certain dates can be difficult and even just getting a phone call about this can be difficult. What are the chances that she calls and wants to talk about this just as I'm bawling all over the place? Seriously!
Anyways, I feel like we failed him as parents. That's what I was thinking, looking at the pictures. Why couldn't he have been healthy? I don't even ask what did I do that caused this because I know that I can't find an answer, but I'm his mom... I was supposed to be able to bring him into this world safely and I was supposed to be able to kiss all his boo boos and make everything ok. I couldn't fix him, nothing I could do could make him better. I'm so sorry baby Max, I'm so sorry mommy couldn't make you better. That is probably the worst feeling a parent could ever have.
Some days it makes me hate the world. Anyone watch Grey's Anatomy? Some days I think I would be like Meredtih Grey if I were to have another baby, absolutely no faith in my own ability to carry and grow a healthy child. I have a hostile uterus. 

All you can do is try

Wow, it's March already...time flies. I can't believe how quickly this winter is passing. I was so worried that these would be horribly dark days, I really thought that this would push me over the edge into postpartum depression. I suppose, given my circumstances, it wouldn't be a huge shock if it happened. I do feel depressed sometimes, but nothing like I felt after Oliver was born, thank goodness. I look back now and think it's almost comical that I was such a mess after he was born because I wanted to be happy and I was so immediately in love with him, I had every reason to not be depressed then and absolutely every reason to be depressed now.... Then again, I know that that was a true depression, nothing I did helped and there was no way out. I needed medication and I hated that.
I hate that people start to assume that if I talk about being upset or depressed now, that I might need medication.... I have bad days, it's normal. I'm grieving, that is healthy. I don't want to medicate myself so that I'm numb to the feelings. I do enough myself, just trying to stay so busy so that I don't have too much time to think.
I did decide to go back to school, just one class at a time. I'm going to work towards finishing my education degree. It may take me until I'm forty, but at least I'm doing something. I'm also really enjoying the class I'm taking right now.
I have Oliver in swimming lessons and I'm working two nights a week and Saturdays. I am busy enough that some days I feel like I can't see straight, that's how I like it. Hence the semi monthly entries, if I'm lucky....
Anyways, on top of everything it's time to think about trying again, if we are going to have another baby. While I sometimes feel like after everything we've been through, we could take on the world, then again...maybe not. Maybe I should be happy with what we have and not ask for anything more. Maybe I'm just a coward, maybe I can't do it all. Lord knows, I've been knocked down a few times..... Maybe I'll leave it in His hands.

My Funny Valentines

I hope everyone had a wonderful Valentine's Day! We had a very busy day of friends, playdates and coffee for Mama and we served heart-shaped cookies that Oliver helped decorate! Andrew stopped by on his lunch break to deliver me a beautiful bouquet of flowers (I'm surprised he braved the playdate hoopla).

I am working at being positive and feeling better, being more active and looking forward to spring. The sixth month mark is approaching and the discussion on trying again has begun.... I have really mixed feelings here.
I suppose I thought I would be more apprehensive or anxious, but I am just completely settled with the notion that I have no control....so what's the point? I am letting go of the wheel (as if I was ever truly steering). Que sera sera.

On another note, I feel very blessed to have my little Oliver in my life. While he sometimes (often) has me tearing my hair out, he is the sweetest little boy there ever was! Tonight we were snuggled on the couch, watching Madagascar and eating grapes and he jumped up and said, "Olvee so happy, wuv my Mama Dada!". Heart melting, Mama loves you too!

Mama be sad!

Life is getting very busy again, I guess that explains the random monthly posts we're getting down to. Sometimes I think that busy is great because it keeps me from being too mopey, I like to be too busy to feel sorry for myself. And sometimes it just catches up with me. You can't run away from the grief, it's there. I am finding that if I'm too busy to give myself time to be sad for a while, if I keep pushing it down....it comes up.
I'm in one of those phases, the last few days it has really been catching up with me. Oliver has been reminding me of Max a lot. Tonight he pointed to some pictures we have framed on the wall and said, "That's mama's baby, be sad" and we said yes, that it was baby Max and that he was sleeping. He said, "He'll wake up soon. Gotta find him mama, he's gone!" We explained that he was in Heaven and that we'd find him some day.
Yeah, two year olds don't really know what's going on, right? Well, he summed that up pretty quickly.
I guess I'm glad that he's getting an understanding of his brother, I don't want him to find out in some shocking way when he's twelve but it's difficult to know how to explain things to a toddler.
We had another experience in the fall at an immunization clinic where he wanted to see a couple's baby and we kept bringing him away (they didn't seem too warm to the idea of a sticky two year old near their new baby), finally he was yelling, "See baby Max!" Awkward.... We left soon after, trying to explain to him that that wasn't baby Max.
Maybe there is a book I can read to him....Lord knows I've found out lately that there are books about all sorts of things you wouldn't expect.

Merry Christmas Baby Max!

Happy four months in heaven Baby Max.
I can't believe it's been four months, feels like a lifetime and it also feels like just yesterday that I held you.
I really missed you over the holidays. Daddy and I made ice candles for you and we are still keeping them lit. I love every little reminder of you, even somthing as simple as a candle.
I kept telling myself that Christmas was just another day....but it was a special day and no matter how many times I tell myself that God had other plans for you, I had plans too...
You should have been with us, Oliver should have a little brother and daddy and I should be having sleepless nights with you. You should be here, smiling and rolling over and delighting us with your little personality and the wonder of who you'll be.
Instead I prayed that you had a good Christmas in heaven and that our loved ones that went before were holding you and loving you. I imagine you growing up in heaven instead of here and I hope that the Grandpas and Grandmas there are taking good care of you.
Merry Christmas
Love you lots,
Mommy

Retail Therapy

Retail therapy is a common theme in my life, even if it's just window shopping as the art of distraction. I love shopping! The hunt to find and gather all of the things you need and want, so satisfying. Lately I find myself feeling like I need to have things for Oliver or Andrew that I think they need, as if this will make everything better.... Oliver needs that toy, he wants it! I want Andrew to have new boots, a nice new shirt...I think he deserves to have whatever he may want. Feeds right into the season now too, buy, buy, buy. But somehow, all that I've gathered isn't enough, it isn't right....it isn't fixing anything.
I noticed us doing this over the summer as well, we justified buying a few new things and be damned the finances! An Ipad, a PS3 to play movies in...suddenly we NEEDED these things. But when I step back and recognize this behaviour I also recognize what we were trying to fix and what I've been doing all over again.
An Ipad is a great distraction, but it won't bring back my baby. A PS3 player makes it easier to play Oliver's movies, but it isn't like having a little brother to play with. Some new boots are useful for Andrew, but they don't take the pain of losing your son away. These are all just band aids that we are putting on a wound that is irreparable. 
Even if I have everyTHING that I need or want for my family, if I buy, buy, buy everything....it still isn't enough to fill this gaping hole in my heart and it never will be.

Ugly shoes

Someone told me about this poem recently, is it weird to say I like it? 

“A Pair of Shoes”

Author Unknown

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.

Tattoos

I had my memorial tattoo for Max done and I'm so happy with how it turned out!
At first I wasn't sure if I wanted to do anything more than just the butterfly, something little. I thought I didn't want something that said to everyone that I had 'lost a baby' (I hate that sentence, maybe more on that later). I was worried that it might become a conversation topic when I didn't want it to and that it might upset me. I finally realized that it upsets me, whether I have a tattoo or not and whether or not I see it all the time....it's always there.
I decided to have his footprint tattooed on my wrist, surrounded by stars and a butterfly to symbolize his spiritual transition. The butterfly is also designed to have the shape of an M in the wing.
I am so very glad that we took his footprints that day in the hospital. I thought they'd just be a keepsake in a book somewhere, I didn't have any idea at the time what they would mean to me.
I will always carry this mark on my heart, where a piece of it died with Max that day. Now I have his footprint seared on my wrist as indelibly as the print it left on my soul.

Little Footprints

by Dorothy Ferguson 

How very softly you tiptoed into my world.

Almost silently, only a moment you stayed. 

But what an imprint your footsteps have left upon my heart