More loss in the family

I don't even know where to start tonight.  I really can't believe that we have experienced another loss in the V family.  I haven't written much about it on here, because it doesn't have to do with baby loss, but a few weeks back Mr V's older brother had a stroke.  He seemed to be on the mend and was recovering very well but Monday he had a second stroke and rapidly declined.  He passed away Monday evening at only 41 years old

So now we have flown to be with Mr V's family and are facing another devastating loss.

My heart is just broken. Broken for my own pain, broken for Mr V's pain and broken for his mother's pain.

On this upcoming Monday, three days after our 5th wedding anniversary and exactly 6 months after Mr V and I held our daughter for the first and last time, we will be burring his brother.

Mr V has lost so much, I feel like everyone he loves is slowly being taken from him. His father, his daughters and now his brother.  When will the sorrow end?

And then there is my mother-in-law, I cannot even find the words to describe her pain.  I know all too well a mother's sorrow, but I do not know the sorrow of losing a child after 41 years of life. I do not know the compounded grief she has after having lost someone from every generation around her, her own mother, her husband, two siblings, two granddaughters, and now a son.  She has been so strong through all of her losses, faithful that God is looking out for her, but yet again tragedy has struck.

For now we are out of town with Mr V's family, and I know we will get through these next few days of funeral arrangements and logistics, but I just am so worn down from hit after hit, sorrow after sorrow and once again having to return to the real world with another new normal.

Meeting My New Niece

Last week I met my new niece C for the first time.  There were so many emotions involved in this meeting, I was nervous, I was scared, I was happy for my brother, I was sad for myself, I was angry.


Sad and angry that my daughter is not here, that I am childless yet again and others seem to breeze through pregnancy without even a hiccup.  Sad that C and Elisa will never meet, sad that I miss my daughter and will miss her growing up with her cousin.


I really didn't know what to expect when I walked in my parents house to meet her.  We chose my parents house, so that we could stop by and make an easy exit if we wanted to, without being to rude, but being at my parents house was also hard.  Like Elisa should be a granddaughter there too.


My arms were empty walking in to their house, and my heart was heavy.  I so very much want to be, and am happy for my brother, but I am so sad for Mr V and I.


Although it was so very hard to be there, I am glad we went.  I was surprised by my reaction in many ways.  First holding C actually felt good, felt healing.  Holding her made me realize how much I do want to have children here on earth.  Now that we have been medically cleared to try again, I have been terrified at the idea of trying.  Terrified that we will try and we will fail, that we won't be able to get pregnant.  Terrified that we will try and fail, and loose another baby.


But holding C reminded me of why I want to be a mom, and that it is in my bones, in my soul to want to be a mother to a child on this earth, to give Luca and Elisa a baby sibling.


On the opposite side, holding C was hard, feeling good holding her made me feel guilty, like I was betraying my baby girls by enjoying the warm feeling of another baby.  I know my girls know I love them, but I couldn't help it.  I spent the time we were there swinging between wanting to hold her longer, to hold on to that feeling of hope of children on earth, and wanting someone to take her away so that I wouldn't feel so guilty.


What I was even more surprised about was that holding her was not the hardest, it was seeing other people hold her.  I felt like it should be my Ellie that they should be holding and gawking over, but instead they are memorized with this other child, as if the hurt and devastation to Elisa never happened.


It is so strange to be in this place of paradox.  Being full of love and happiness for my brother, sister in law and baby C, but being just as full of sadness and hurt. 

This is just so hard

It's been a long week, and it's only Tuesday.

Saturday was 5 months since we lost Elisa

Father's day was extremely hard

Work yesterday was hard both mentally and emotionally for many reasons

And this morning I got the text from my brother that my sister-in-law was in labor. 

I tried all day to not think about it.  I was really hoping that she could hold out a little longer, and maybe be born tomorrow.  Today's is Mr V's father's birthday, and it just seemed cruel that their baby would be born on this day, when Mr V doesn't have his father here, or his daughters.

I got the text announcing her birth, after I got home from work today.  Ironically, I received the text as I was making the last round of edits on the letter I plan to send to the hospital where Elisa was born, outlining the many ways we felt disrespected when she was born.

It all just seems so unfair.  My husband missing his father today, and me, proofreading a letter talking about our daughter's stillbirth, and then 15 minutes away in the same hospital we lost Elisa, my brother and sister-in-law are welcoming their healthy baby girl.

With as hard as this week has already been, I really don't know what I am going to do when I go to meet the baby.  I want so much to be happy for them, and I truly am. But I am also sad for myself.

A son without a father and a father without his children

Today was really really hard.  Perhaps harder than Mother's Day.  I can handle my own pain and sorrow, that is my burden, but it pains me so much to see the ones I love hurting.

For the second year in a row Mr V spent Father's Day as a son without a father, and as a father without his children. The only difference this year is he has two daughters in heaven, not just one.
I can't even put in to words how incredibly unfair that is. 

He is a wonderful, loving, amazing man and the ones he loves keep getting taken from him.   He has handled the day very well considering, but I know how much he is hurting. And worst of all I can't fix it, I can't change it, I can't make any of it better.

My heart just hurts.

I wish you would ask me their names

Today we had a team lunch at work because we have a new team member (she will actually be my boss).   While my coworker friend and I waited with the new woman for the two other team members to show up she started talking about her two year old daughter.  I was actually loving hearing the stories about her, but then she asked the seaming simple, but oh so difficult question: "Do you have any kids?"

My friend coworker answered "no" to the question, and then casually managed to change the subject before I had a chance to answer (this coworker knows about Luca and Elisa and she is constantly looking out for me and my fragile heart)

I plan to tell my new boss everything that has happened, I just didn't want to do it in a public setting.  I need her to know on many reasons 1) so she knows why I have all of these doctors appointments, 2) because losing my girls is fully a part of who I am, and I really feel she wouldn't know me if she didn't know about what we have been through and 3) because if we do get pregnant again, I will need her to understand that it isn't all flowers and meadows for me, that I am going to be scared...really really scared next time.

But I didn't feel like a first meet and greet was the best time to load that all on her, so I was glad the conversation changed.

Unfortunately however, throughout the whole lunch it kept swinging back that way. When our other team members showed up one of them  (who knows about my losses) talked about how he and his wife plan to get pregnant soon, after they get back from their Italy vacation at the end of this month.

He also talked about how he and his wife are both very independent, career oriented people, so their plan is to have two kids, back to back, a year a part, so that "they can kind of raise each other, and entertain themselves". 

I long so much to be in every moment of my daughters lives, lives that they will never have here, and he is already talking about how to avoid any extra work in parenting....it just hurt.

I was happy that he ended his comment saying, "well that's the plan, but it might not work out that way" so at least he somewhat acknowledges that things don't always go as planned.

Then the next topic of conversation was "why would anyone have more than one or two kids...they are just so much work"

So basically I spent the whole lunch hurting inside, but doing my best to put on a face so I didn't breakdown right in front of my new boss.

To make matters worse, I just hate that I feel I can't talk about my girls sometimes.  Part of me just wanted to answer the "do you have any kids?" question with "yes, I have two daughters, but they are in heaven"

Sometimes I do, and honestly, I think I would have, had it been a complete stranger.  But given that this was supposed to be a welcome, celebratory lunch for a new employee, I felt like talking about them would 'bring everybody down'

I just wish our culture wasn't so uncomfortable with the topic of death. I wish I could just say I have two daughters who are in heaven, and have someone say sorry, without the awkward silence that follows, better yet, they would even ask my what their names were, wouldn't that be wonderful!

I Need This

It's been a while since I have written.  With being on vacation and then getting back in to the swing of things, blogging fell of the Radar. 

I have thought about picking up the computer and blogging quite a few times over the last few weeks, but I kept making excuses: it's too nice outside, I spend so much time in front of the computer at work, that I shouldn't waste my precious home time back in front of the screen again etc.

But what I realized, is I need this.

I need to get my feelings out on paper (well on screen) or else they fester inside and become overwhelming.

As I am typing right now I can physically feel the weight in my chest being lifted...and I haven't even started writing anything important yet.  The catharsis of the written word...

The last few weeks have been filled with ups and downs.

Our vacation was wonderful on many levels. I was surprised how getting away really helped.  Spending time with Mr V away from the hub bub of every day life, and getting away from the superficial interactions of work and common interactions was a refreshing change of scene.

On the other hand it was hard.  The constant reminder that we shouldn't be on the trip because we should be at home with a one and a half year hold and a newborn.  I tried to enjoy every day the best I could, and did fairly well most of the time, but I did have one really bad day on the trip on Elisa's 4 month, where I sat on the floor of our Ireland B&B and bawled my eyes out until there were no more tears.

Now that the trip is over, I am struggling to find something else to look forward to.  Things are still off with my cycle, and so our Creighton Doctor recommended us waiting a while longer to try (and honestly I don't think I am emotionally ready to try).  Although I am concerned that we have some things to work through health wise (possible low progesterone and a recently discovered hypothyroidism) I am so grateful for our Creighton doc, as none of this would have been discovered had we not started seeing her.

But now that we are back from our trip and can't start trying, and knowing that my Sister-In-Law is ready to deliver her baby girl any day now, has put me in a really hard place.  I know only have one choice, to just keep going one day at a time but right now it seems like I am wading though thick mud.

Angles Plot

Today we visited Glasnevin Cemetery in Ireland. 

This was one of the first Catholic Cemeteries to allow miscarried, stillborn and infant babies (non baptized)  to be buried on consecrated ground. There are over 50,000 babies buried in what is called "Angles Plot". Going here felt like a little pilgrimage on behalf of both of Luca and Elisa.

The plot is full of unmarked graves, but along side are the names and birth and death dates of each child burried there, and some with memorial messages from family members. 

Information from the Cemetery's website "Up to 20 years ago, Mothers who delivered their stillborn babies in the Dublin Maternity Hospitals or Dublin Nursing Homes never saw their baby at birth. It was considered to be ‘better’ for them not to. Dads were totally excluded from the experience of childbirth anyway. The Hospital involved would see that the baby was buried in the Old Angels Plot in Glasnevin and for many parents the ‘bill’ for this is the only recognition they had for their baby
I wanted to share with you the lovely inscription that is on the memorial in the Angels Plot."

Because of babies being taken away after birth and buried without the parent present, some went unknown until years later.  We even saw some memorial stones with messages such as "we are so glad we found you, love your brother and sister", likely given by siblings who found out about their unborn brother or sister years and years later.

It was so moving to be there.  Although I did not meet any other parents while there, it is the knowledge that I have the unseen bond with them, the bond of knowing child loss. Mr V and I said a prayer while there for all of the children buried there, and all of their family members.

One of the most moving moments of this was the inscription on the memorial

angels surrounding the memorial

Someone had left a stuffed dog in the arms of the angel monument at the Angel Plot.  We also took a picture with Beluga Whale and Luca star, in memory of Elisa and Luca