Healing...Freedom....Peace....Full Circle

I hate that I only get on here once a year...if that. I should be documenting Ava and Pippa's life too. But this IS a pretty sacred place...Rosie's place. SO I guess I will continue to come here and document on occasion. 

Today marked 12 yrs. 

12 yrs since the trajectory of my life took a sudden turn....my plans, my dreams, my goals were flipped upside down. 

If you are friends with me on FB, you would have seen that I posted a short blurb about today. It was because I had to sit with my feelings and figure out how to get them down on paper. FB did not seem like the place to write about those feelings. 

Leading up to today, I  thought I would be emotionally and physically ready for today. You see, I had to work today. Being a L&D nurse on the unit she was born, I am regularly around "her spaces". The triage room we found out she passed, the operating room she was delivered in, the room she was baptized in, the room I spent 4 days in AP holding her and spending time with her. BUT I had yet to work on her day. This year is the first time in 12 yrs I would have to work and not dedicate an entire day to my first born. I also had to work the night of the 19th. Which means my morning and afternoon would be spent sleeping on the 20th. I contacted all the family and told them the celebration would still happen at the cemetery, but it would be short and sweet since I had to leave for work. I ordered mini bunt cakes from Nothing Bundt Cakes, and even bought the bundtinis for the hospital staff for the night of the 20th. 

I was ready. Physically and emotionally to spend Rosie's birthday on the Labor and Delivery floor that she was born on.

What I was not prepared for emotionally.....was spending the night BEFORE her birthday on the floor. 

At midnight on the 20th I realized that at that moment 12 yrs ago I was walking myself from the triage room to the labor room. The walk I mention in some of my first blog posts. 

So I did something I didn't realize would bring me peace, sadness, overwhelming joy....every emotion under the sun!

I walked the events......

I went to the triage room we found out the news her heart had stopped. 

I walked down the long hall that made me feel like I was walking the death row walk 12 yrs ago....

I stood in the OR she was born silently.

I stood outside the room she was baptized in and sooo many family got to hold and meet her in (there was a patient in the room, so no pictures lol). 

Then I finished with a moment with the wreath of remembrance in our respite room where her ribbon hangs from. 

It was cathartic. It was freeing. It was peaceful.

The nurses let me talk about her last night. They asked questions and engaged and LISTENED.  I don't think people realize how IMPORTANT that is. Even 12 yrs later. To tell your story, to speak your name. It means the WORLD to me. 

Then of course today was BEAUTIFUL!!! The sun was shining and the temperature was perfect. We all gathered at Rosalynn's grave to celebrate. We sang happy birthday, let off balloons and I handed out the mini bundt cakes for everyone to enjoy tonight. It was quick but perfect. 

As I was headed to work, one of my friends/coworkers called to see what type of coffee I would like:-) Made my day! 

I chose a moment when a lot of people were in the nurse's station to hand out the mini cakes. I stressed to them the importance of their job when working with bereavement cases. That how their care can change someone's life.....for better OR worse....and in my case it brought me full circle 12 yrs later. 

Every year I ask for a little sign from Rosie that she is around. I feel her regularly, but it is nice to have a solid sign she is around. Today it was an interesting one. The night we found out she had passed, I had made David and I chicken parmesan. Needless to say, I have not eaten chicken parmesan in 12 yrs. Randomly today the hospital sent us a "thank you" dinner. Unexpected.....what do you think that dinner was? You guessed it. Chicken Parmesan! So today I ate chicken parm for the first time in 12 yrs.....

Healing.....freedom....peace.....full circle. 

 

Thank you baby girl for teaching me so many lessons. For helping me grow spiritually, emotionally, and mentally strong. Thank you for sending me down this path I would not have taken. I help other families like ours, and love on them and try to give them amazing memories of their babies. I cannot wait to one day hug you in heaven, but until then, I will continue to carry your memory with me through life. 

Roses From Rosalynn and Project Sweet Peas Fundraiser

For those of you who are friends with me on facebook will be driven nuts over the next few weeks by this announcement:-)

For those of you who are NOT friends with me on facebook, first; shame on you, and second; this is for you!

Roses from Rosalynn is the project I started in memory of my daughter. the non-profit project is a "daughter" project, or local project to Project Sweet Peas which is the international organization. A few times a year we have big group fundraisers. This time we chose to do a t-shirt sale.

This is where BOTH of my loves, Roses from Rosalynn  and my photography came together. They needed a picture to put on the front of the shirt. It needed to show the love that a parent has for a child without having a specific person on it. We wanted it to be personal. I submitted a photo I took during a newborn session with a friend of mine and her son who also spent 6 days in the NICU, like Ava. The picture was more than just a symbol of parental love, it was also personal because it was of a family that had suffered and persevered through the roller coaster that is the NICU.

Well, my photo was chosen, and God willing, will be worn all across the nation as a way of promoting awareness of stillbirth and NICU struggles.

We have shirts for both NICU and Angel parents. They are not that expensive, and even if you haven't lived through a loss or a stay in the NICU, you can still purchase a shirt that says "I Support Project Sweet Peas" and support this great organization. Also, to you NICU nurses, there are shirts that say "I am a NICU nurse" or "I Save Sweet Peas" that are PERFECT for you!!! There will be a spot on the form that asks what project you are supporting. If you don't mind, please specify Roses from Rosalynn, because I will get credit towards my project.

 http://projectsweetpeas.com/2012Tshirts.aspx

Thank you all in advance. please feel free to message me if you have any questions. Also, IF there is enough interest, we will be making child sized ones and onsies, so PLEASE let me know if you would be interested in buying one in those sizes, and I will get back to you if we have enough interest to produce them!

Our Growing Girl!

 My precious baby girl is growing strong. She lost 10% of her body weight already, and was 5lb5oz yesterday, but the way she is eating she will gain it back in NO time. Ava came off her tube the first night around 2AM, and went right onto room air! This only lasted for about 12 hours. She then had to go onto a nasal cannula at the lowest setting because she wasn't keeping her oxygen above 95%. She is eating like a champ! She eats fast, burps fast, and then falls right to sleep on either Foster or my chest.

It is amazing the little quirks she already has picked up. She snores like me (not really a snore, but a clicking in the back of her throat), she frowns like Foster and furrows her brow, and she doesn't really CRY, she whines, and squeaks.

I love her so much! I just am praying she gets to come home with us. It would be hard to walk out of the hospital AGAIN without a baby. However, I would feel better this time, especially knowing that she is with her Auntie Bug in the NICU.

The emotional aspect has taken its toll on me a bit. It was probably a combination of hormones, exhaustion, and memories, but I cried ALOT last night for my Rosalynn. I miss her. I am soooooo blessed and happy to be holding my beautiful rainbow baby, but the memories of our first born that will never be, makes me sad. We never got to do any of this with Rosalynn, and I will love EVERY moment with Avaleen and will never take a moment for granted.

Here are a few pictures:-)

Foster feeding his baby girl. I am sooo happy to see him as a father to an angel here on earth!!

burping Ava

Snuggling with Ava....then repeat 3 hours later:-)

Well, I am going to pump again, and then head down for feeding and kangaroo time! THank you all for the prayers and support! We all appreciate every one of them.

"Life's Not Fair"~ Foster

As you can imagine, or at least my BLM moms who have carried a rainbow can imagine, my anxiety is starting to creep up. I have moments where it consumes me.

This morning as I was driving home from work, I started crying. My car rides home from work are usually my time to reflect, and often cry. Tears were streaming down my eyes out of anger this time. I was angry at the fact that Foster and I even have to be in a situation of such anxiety and stress.

I am in a strange place in regards to the other pregnant women around me. I feel a complete disconnect from those that are naively awaiting their little ones, those that will never know the reality of a dead baby. I am jealous.

As my pregnant friends are trying to decide how many onsies and diapers and which things to put on their registries, I am keeping all my purchases in a corner with the receipts...."just in case". The only items I have washed and put away are the ones that are non-returnable or were previously washed or purchased before Rosie passed.

They are getting anxious about the new addition to their family. They are wondering how they will juggle this little bundle of joy along with work, their other kids, finances, and how they will deal with the lack of sleep. I am just praying every night that I get to bring this child home, that I will get the opportunity to experience the sleepless nights.

Their biggest concerns right now is what type of delivery they will have, if they will go natural or have the dreaded c-section. I am just praying we make it to my c-section date!

As they are stressing over decor for the nursery, I am TRYING to get my nursery together, but at the same time, have the plot at the cemetery picked out in the event Ava will be sleeping there instead. I am hoping that my aunt, uncle and mom would agree to let her lay with my grandfather next to my grandmother so that she is next to Rosalynn. I know...I KNOW....morbid. But these are the thoughts of a Babyloss mom.

So as I drove home listening to "She Just thinks We're Fishin", I started pleading with God that Foster gets the chance to do these sorts of things with Ava. He confided in me the other morning that he is "Already falling in love with her." I don't want to let him down! I don't want to disappoint him again.

I am aware that Rosie's passing was not my fault, but it was my responsibility to keep her safe, my body's JOB to nourish and protect her, and it failed....I failed.

Realistically and statistically, I KNOW the odds of this happening again are soooooo slim, but it can happen...it DOES happen. As I sit here, Avaleen is kicking away, as if to tell me that everything will be alright; truth be told, I, along with a lot of you, have a great feeling about this little one. (And now I want to erase that sentence for fear I just jinxed myself). However, it angers me about how unfair it is that these thoughts have to even run through my head, that I even have to stress over losing another child. But as Foster said before kissing me goodbye this morning, "Life isn't fair, honey."

First Trip For a Crazy Momma to L&D

First I will start this post by saying EVERYTHING IS GREAT...just so my Mom and MIL don't have a heart attack when they read this.

Saturday was a BUSY day. Foster and I finally got motivated to clean the house. We cleaned from top to bottom which had not been done in at least 3 weeks. You know when stuff builds up and builds up and then it leaves you so overwhelmed yo don't know where to start....so you just don't? That is how I had been feeling about the house lately, so it was getting neglected. Plus, with our trip and how busy we have been, there has been no time.

3 hours we cleaned. It was exhausting, but sooo fulfilling to walk through a CLEAN house for at least 24 hours.

After the cleaning binge, we attended our annual neighborhood block party. The temperature index was over 100 degrees, but we still had a lot of fun. There were water balloon tossing contests, face painting, food, and even the local fire department showed up to hang show off the engine to the kids.

I guess all three of us had too much fun. Foster and I woke up Sunday lethargic and sluggish. We got ready for church and headed out. I noticed about 5 minutes into mass that I had not felt Ava move since I woke up around 7am to pee and started to get a little nervous. I figured, no big deal, I would just pay close attention during mass, because she usually perked up and kicked while I was singing.

No such luck. She was quiet. My anxiety started to increase. Foster and I were going to head to our Sunday brunch spot, but he wanted to stop off at home to put some items in the garage since it looked like the sky was going to open up at any moment and dump rain on us. I decided to take the opportunity to use my Doppler to put my mind at ease. As soon as I placed the probe on my stomach, I heard her heartbeat good and strong at a 140 beats per minute. All of the sudden it dropped. It was still there, and distinctly hers, but it slowed down to a point that my doppler was reading 40-60. It was NOT mine, mine was in the 90-100s because I was so anxious. I waited for it to go back up, searched for a faster heart beat with no avail.

I called my doctor. I felt so bad calling on a Sunday. As soon as I explained the situation, he mentioned that the movement was more of a concern for him than the doppler, and the decrease in movement was enough for me to go in and get a Non Stress Test. He said not to worry, because it could be a small malfunctioning in the doppler, and not to panic, but to make my way into L&D.

Foster and I headed to the hospital.

As we were driving, I felt a SLIGHT flutter, so my mind was put slightly at ease knowing that at least if something was wrong, she was still alive, and they could do something about it. However, a feeling of deja vu started to play over in my head. The most ridiculous thought crossed my mind, "If the desk lady tries to hand me the pediatrician list, I may lose it." You see, when we went in for Rosalynn, the sign in lady asked us if we had picked a pediatrician. We said no, and she handed us the list. I have purposefully avoiding looking at that list again for fear of planning too much and jinxing us.

We signed in, and of course the lady asked the question, "Do you have a pediatrician?" and started handing me the list.

"NO...TAKE IT BACK!" I snapped at her, "I don't want to see that list!"

Foster calmly told the lady we would pick a pediatrician when we felt it was necessary. Poor woman looked so confused, and I was on the verge of tears. I truly felt bad for her, but sometimes the weirdest things trigger babyloss parents, and for some reason that list did it to me.

She walked us back to the room, and I had to ask Foster if it was "the room" before I entered. He shook his head and pointed two doors down. "Thank God," I muttered as I headed in.

It seemed to take FOREVER for the nurse to come in, and I was dreading the search for Ava's heartbeat. Luckily, she found it right away. It was her nice, usual, STRONG 140. I breathed a sigh and thanked her profusely.

Now, I have one question....WHY DO I HAVE TO REPEAT MY HISTORY EVERY TIME I GO TO THIS HOSPITAL?!?!? They enter all the information into the computer, you would THINK it would pop up when they pull up my info. BUT NOOOOOO...after finding Ava, we had to go through my entire history again. It is painstaking, and heartbreaking. I have gotten so used to talking about it, I almost feel like I sound cold and medical when I recount everything that happened. Almost as if I turn the medic mind on and the mommy mind off.

We sat and listened to our daughter's heartbeat for almost an hour. She was really still for the first 20-30 minutes, and then all of the sudden started dancing away. It was as if she just wanted to sleep in until 1:30 PM, and then she just woke up as if nothing was wrong. What a punk!

There were only a few normal decelerations in her heartbeat around 120, but that is still fine, and the doctor was pleased with everything. He also did a quick u/s to check my fluid levels, and they looked great too. The doctors and nurses were sooooo understanding. Not a single one made me feel crazy, and they even expressed to me that if I EVER had a concern to feel free to come in and see them or call them. They all said they would have done the same in my situation.

Foster was great. I felt guilty for unnecessarily worrying him. He never expressed his anxiety, but I knew it was there, because the second the heartbeat was on that monitor, he relaxed....and fell asleep to the thumping of his daughter's heartbeat. He woke up and said, "WOW! That was a great nap!".

I looked at the clock and laughed, "Honey, you were only asleep for 8 minutes!"

I guess the 8 minute nap is all he needed to feel refreshed. However, after all was cleared and we were waiting for discharge papers, time started to drag. He started to get antsy and agitated. He was hungry and tired. I just had to keep reminding him that although it was taking a while, at least we were not planning a surgery and 4 day stay because our daughter was gone.

Although it was scary, and triggered some STRONG memories and emotions, I am glad it happened now. Instead of all bad memories of that place, I am starting to build good memories. When I go in to deliver Ava, hopefully all the anxiety associated with L&D is gone, and we can just focus on the future without our last experience hanging over our head.

Personally, I think 29w3d is GREAT for my first freak out session....hopefully it will be the last, but I wouldn't be surprised if it is not;-)

1 year ago today......

Happy 1yr in heaven beautiful baby girl!!
"Those we held in our arms for a moment, we hold in our hearts for a lifetime"
Mommy and Daddy Love you! Hope you are having fun with all of your friends!!

Calling All Angel Mommies!!

As you all know, we will be celebrating Rosalynn's first heavenly birthday on Wednesday. I wanted to do something a little special for all of my baby loss parents. Please, if you haven't already done so on DS or on my facebook, please leave your angel's name on here if you would like me to sent their name up on a balloon with all the other names. It is the least I can do for all of the love and support you have shown me over the past year. Wow! A whole year......I can't believe it has been almost a whole year without my beautiful daughter.......

8w4d~ Guilt!

I have been feeling very strange lately. Not depressed, not anxious, not alone, not any of the feeling I had after the loss of my Rosalynn. I just feel different. I was trying to figure out why I have been avoiding my blog, my support group, and even calling my friends, but couldn't put a definite reason behind these actions. Then, I was standing in a cafe waiting to have breakfast with my mom, dad, and Foster and talking to my mom. She hit the nail right on the head. She said she was feeling guilty about getting excited about this pregnancy because she almost felt like she was cheating on Rosie. That is it!! I feel guilty!

Rosalynn's 1st heavenly birthday is approaching fast. In fact, it is a meer 9 days away. I am grieving the loss of my daughter more and more as the day creeps closer and closer. However, I am pregnant again, and should be happy. I should be reveling in the hope of this new life, but I feel guilty. I don't want to get too excited, because I don't want my Rosie to think I forgot about her! I don't want her to think for one instance that he mommy is replacing her with this new baby. I have been getting signs left and right from her lately.

Around Christmas this past year, the funeral home sent us a beautiful engraved dove with her name on it. When we put our tree up 3 weeks later, we couldn't find it. We looked EVERYWHERE! IN every drawer, in the baskets that hold our mail, in the ENVELOPES in the baskets that hold our mail, on Foster's desk, EVERYWHERE. This past Friday I was looking for my military ID so I could head to Drill. I picked up the basket our mail is in, and glanced down; there it was. The ornament I had misplaced over 5 months ago was sitting RIGHT ON TOP! I called Foster and asked him where he had found the beautiful gift. He claimed he hadn't seen it since the last time I saw it. He admits now, HE BELIEVES IN SIGNS! He honestly thought it was a sign from Rosie.

Then, this Sunday at mass, the reading was about the raising of Lazurus from the dead. This particular reading really helped me in my early grief, because I really felt abandoned by God. However, in this passage is states "Jesus wept" with Martha and Mary, showing that he mourns with us. He is just as upset when we lose a loved one as we are, but it is a part of life. I teared up, because this was a reminder that I am not alone as April 20th quickly approaches, and i am reliving all of the sorrow in my head. THEN to top it off, "I am the bread of life", one of Rosie's funeral songs, were sung during communion. I left mass a total blubbering mess. I felt her all over the place! I have been feeling her all over the place! I don't know if it is her way of supporting me and helping me through this, or if it is her way of making sure I don't forget her. But I promise on everything that is near and dear to my heart, that I will NEVER forget my beautiful baby girl!

There is also fear. I am finding out left and right that there are more and more pregnant women around me. I have recently found out there are 2 more women at my work pregnant. That makes four of us all together. Anne, a few cousins, and numerous online buddies are pregnant as well. Of course I am THRILLED that I have so many people to experience this journey with, however I am scared. 2 of the SAME women at work, a few friends, and at least 3 cousins were pregnant when I was last. The one difference between them and me is that they all got to bring home their babies, and I was left burying mine, and watching all of theirs grow up around me. Seeing them at stages the Rosalynn should be at. I DON"T WANT THIS TO HAPPEN AGAIN!!!!! I DON"T WANT TO BE LEFT BEHIND AGAIN!!! Every girl I find out is pregnant with me is, in my mind, a potential baby I will have to watch grow up without mine in my arms. I know this sounds irrational, I know it is borderline crazy, but it is a reality for me, because it has happened once before. There is NO guarantee it won't happen again. I am not promised this child, I am not guaranteed to bring this baby home with me.....I can only hope and pray at this point.

Please be patient with me as I work through all of these mixed emotions. As April 20th approaches, my emotions are increasing, and it definitely does not help that I have pregnancy hormones raging through my body as well!

For those of you who have been waiting for an update on Pumpkin:

I am 8w4d. I have been having all day "morning sickness" but no vomiting, just a constant nausea that is eased slightly by the Zofran, but not completely. I have also been battling migraines. I explain it to my husband that I feel like I am hung over every day; except without the fun of binge drinking the night before. I feel bad for him, because although i do not complain NEARLY as often as I feel bad, he still has to deal with me moping around the house, sleeping ALOT, and lots and lots of bodily gasses due to my upset stomach. I had to move my next appointment to April 28th because I have a test in my Photography class on the 21st and they had scheduled me 1.5 hours before my class was to start. I was nervous that since the last appt. lasted 4 hours, that I would miss my midterm. So, the 28th it is! It is a regular appt with no ultra sound, HOWEVER, we SHOULD be able to hear the heart beat on doppler since we will be 11 weeks by then!! I am very excited about this!

I am showing already too! Unbelievable at this point, but I am a little over 8 weeks and look like I did when I was 18 weeks pregnant with Rosie!! They say your second always shows faster but my LORD!! I will post pics soon!

Thanks for the continues prayers and thoughts.

A Secret Society

Ten months ago today I unknowingly joined a secret society, an elite group of strong, amazing people. They have the biggest hearts, the most caring natures, and they didn't know they were in the club until their fateful day. You don't need money to join the club. In fact, this club doesn't care if you are rich or poor. You don't need connections, to "know the right people". Honestly, the current members of the club hate it when a new member joins, not because we don't like them or think we are too good for new members, but because we know too well the pain the new member had to endure to join our group. The only criteria to enter is the loss of a child. Unfortunately, no matter how hard a non-member tries, they can never come close to imagining the pain that all of us have gone through.
When I joined the Baby Loss Club, I was so inspired by how these parents had survived, because I know at one point I felt that all I wanted to do was crawl into a hole and die. I wanted nothing more than to meet my baby girl, my beautiful Rosalynn, to hold her and kiss her and play with her, all the things that moms of living children get to do. However, my broken heart was slowly being pieced back together. Each one of the women I have met, each heart wrenching story I have listened to and shared, helped glue a piece of my heart back together. I am not alone in this. My heart will not ever completely heal and there will always be a piece waiting for me up in heaven, but my fellow baby loss mothers have helped guide me through this journey.
Please do not get me wrong, friends and family have been a HUGE part of my journey, an immense support system. However, there have been times that I have felt all alone in this journey. Not for lack of people reaching out to me, but because I could not imagine anyone knowing how I feel. This is where my BLMs have come in. Just like any journey one takes, wether it be the loss of a parent, infertility, adoption, cancer, you feel less alone when you find that secret club, that group of people that know exactly what you are feeling and thinking, because they are thinking and feeling the same thing. They are on the same journey as you are.
If I don't say it enough girls, I love you so much and thank you. Your spirits are so uplifting. You have helped me through some of the darkest times, and lifted me up when I have fallen. Some of you I am blessed to have met in person, some I have spoken to on the phone, but the majority of you I have only known through the internet, and yet you have all become some of my closest friends. I hate what we all had to go through this, but I love that we have all found each other. If I never get to meet some of you in person, I look forward to the day we will all get to meet in heaven (lets hope this is a LONG time from now) where all of our angels play together now.

Rosalynn,
Baby girl, your birthday is quickly approaching, and not a day goes by that mommy does not miss you. I hope you are having fun with all of you angel friends. I hope they throw a HUGE birthday party for you up there in heaven, because we will be throwing you one here on earth. You have changed me Rosie. you have transformed your mommy in ways I never thought possible. Thank you for being a part of my life, and allowing me to be your mom.
Butterfly kisses and hugs!
Mommy

Another Twist In The Road

I know the saying "everything happens for a resason" is so cliche, but I had something incredible happen this week that makes me stop and think if it holds some truth.

About five years ago I signed up to be a bone marrow donor. I donated a little bit of blood, and was placed in the registry. Up until this point I had yet to be called, however all that changed a few days ago. I noticed about four months ago that the registry still had my parent's address as my address, so I made sure to go in and update everything. Four months later, I am filling out an update on all my medical information because I may be a match for someone. One of the questions it asked was "Are you pregnant or could you become pregnant within the next six months?" Of course I answered yes, because lets face it, Foster and I have been trying VERY hard to get pregnant. However, I made sure to add in the notes that if they draw my blood for the more in depth testing, and find out that I am indeed a match, we will stop TTC immediately.
I would give up a few months of trying to start my family and giving Rosalynn a sibling in order to save some one's life. Can you imagine being responsible for saving some one's mother, father, sister, brother, daughter, or son? I help save lives in the ER every week, but this is a little different. I would have a single connection with one other person in this big world because MY marrow would be responsible for saving their life. If I can spare one family from the pain of losing a loved one, than I will gladly refrain from trying to get pregnant.

I will also endure the pain of a HUGE needle going into my hip, a few days of pain and recovery in order to save some one's life. It makes me wonder if maybe I was not meant to be pregnant yet because I was meant to help give a "new life" to a stranger. Makes you wonder doesn't it? Does everything happen for a reason?

I will keep you updated on the process. The next step is to stop by and give a little more blood for them to test it more closely, and then I should hear soon after that.

Here is a little treat. I have been practicing with photo shop and edited a few of the baby shoot pictures I took. I was playing around with the black and white with one singled out color effect. I think they came out pretty good for my first time!
Enjoy!

Before



After



Before



After




After (the before didn't want to download for some reason)

 I know they are not HUGE differences, but I like the effect, and can't wait to do more!!



Welcome...and Sad to See You Go

So I noticed I have picked up a few more followers, and also that I have lost some people. It is sad to see people drop from my friend list, but I understand that some people have to move on.  I lost a few after my last post about drill weeknds, and I hope I didn't offend anyone, especially my military spouses and members out there. I want to clarify something, I love my country and I love the Army. The problems I have are not with either one of these. Prior to losing Rosalynn I thought I was invincible. Nothing could hurt me, and I was willing to callenge life. My priorities were completely different. Since April, my life was turned upside down, and everything has changed. The other night when I was writing that post, I was crying as I told David how upset and angry I was how things have turned out. Not just with losing my child, but with how let down I have been by my unit. I feel like that kid who has been completely let down by their parents. Before I joined, and when I was in training, my perception of the military was they would protect their own. I was convinced that if I was ever in trouble, they would be like family.

I cried because I had felt abandoned by the family I thought I could rely on. This is enough to make anyone feel angry and bitter. Foster and I have mulled over different plans of action; discharge for depression, asking to be transfered to a different unit, etc., but I am going to stick it out. I am not a quitter. I mentioned we have a new First Sergeant and a new Comander. Although I have not yet talked one on one with the new commander, I have talked to the 1SG and I hope he is passing on information to my CO. From the looks of it, this new leadership seems to be more in tuned with my ideals of what the military should be, my second family. I feel like I have renewed hope. I am praying that this is not like the abandoned child who gets their hopes up when their deadbeat father comes back for a week or two, promises to stick around, buys the child gifts, and then ends up leaving again. I am optimistic that this is a situation where a new leadership means new priorities. So far it seems good, but I am not going to get my expectations up too high.

For those of you who just joined me, I promise I do not complain and whine in every post. I am actually a pretty upbeat person for everything life has thrown at me this past year. I have been married to the man of my dreams, my prince charming, for a little over a year now. We are a dual military status couple. He is active duty in the National Guard, and I am a traditional guardsman. I am a full time student 5 weeks away from graduating with my bachelors in Psychology, and I work full time in and emergency room, which I absolutely love.....most of the time. On April 20th, 2010 Foster and I lost our first and only child, Rosalynn @ 34weeks5days gestation, a mear 3 weeks from our scheduled c-section, to stillbirth. Three weeks after that, Mama Red, Foster's best friend's mom passed away the night before Mother's Day. She was like a second mother to him. Three weeks after that, MY best friend's mom passed away from pancreatic cancer. She was a light in my life for the past 29 years. She was one of the most selfless, caring, Christian women I have ever known, and when in six weeks three very important people in my life passed, I was rocked to the core. I have been tested in so many ways. My faith, my marriage, and my sanity have all been tested these past 10 months, and I feel like I have come out stronger. My marriage has flourished and somehow become stronger that thitanium, the devil has not won in his pursuit of tearing me away from God, and my sanity....well, the jury is still out on this:-)

I thank you for joining my journey as I find ways of coping with my grief through writing, photography and my new non-profit project "Roses from Rosalynn with Project Sweet Peas". I have met so many amazing people through this blog who have enriched my life more than I could ever have imagined. Please do not be a stranger. I love comments and try to respond to any of you who take the time to write me (as long as you have the setting that allows me to reply by email to your comment on.)

A "Breakthrough"?!?

I had my own little revelation today. I notice that right before drill every month I get anxious, and filled with dread. I never really could put my finger on why I feel this way. It's not like we do a whole lot that would cause stress on drill weekends; we take a PT test every month, and then maybe have a few classes or paint walls (we did a LOT of painting this weekend!!). You would think it was the easiest "job" in the world. As a junior enlisted, I have no responsibility other than to do what I am told, sit around chatting with other junior enlisted, and wait until the leaders decide to let us loose for the night.Yes, I get paid for this. Drill weekends should be almost a "vacation" from my normal, hectic life.

 First Sergeant called me in to his office this afternoon. He wanted to check on me. Let's just say I took an email very personally that was not his intention and he was a little worried about me. As soon as he asked "How are you doing?" and really meant it, the waterworks started. They always do when someone REALLY wants to know how I am doing. I had held it together all weekend. Sure, I had complained a little here and there about the endless painting we had to do, or rolled my eyes when we were told to move a set of filing cabinets for the fifth time BACK to the original spot they were in, but if I didn't complain, I wouldn't be the typical junior enlisted soldier now would I? However, once I looked into his eyes that were genuinely filled with concern, I lost it. The talk was good, and I was grateful that with as little time that he has in a weekend, especially with a deployment on the horizon, he took a few minutes to check on me.

As I jumped into my car to head home to enjoy some homemade chili and football with Foster, tears started streaming down my eyes. It occurred to me for the first time that it was a Sunday after drill, very similar to today, that my last full day with my Rosalynn was unknowingly coming to an end. I had been in civilian clothes because I was soooooo big, and the only thing my commander asked was "Finny, why are you in civilian clothes?" I guess he had forgotten about the 5 times I had requested the maternity ACUs but had yet to receive . As a health care provider (a nurse practitioner in his civilian life) you would think he might have been concerned about my overly swollen legs, the feet that were so swollen that only flip flops could fit on them. You would think at the very  least he would have asked how the pregnancy was going, or offer to finish the final signatures pertaining to my discharge that I was holding in my hands. However, "Why are you in civilian clothes?" and "I will sign those later," were the only things he said to me. I spent most of my time with my feet elevated in the office, and only got up to pee, heat up some food, and to let everyone feel my belly when Rosie got the hiccups for the first time ever. One of our radiology techs (who I currently also work at the hospital with) sat down concerned and told me he was worried about my swelling and the pregnancy because he had just recently been witness to an ultrasound where a 36 week pregnant woman was told the baby's heart had stopped. He told me to pay close attention to the kicks. I giggled uncomfortably and reassured him that I would be fine, and if I noticed a decrease in movement, I would be sure to call my OB. This conversation is one of the main  reasons I noticed she wasn't moving so early on.

As I was driving home from drill, I realized that I think I resent that place. Not the people, the PLACE. Every time I get in uniform and go to that armory, I am reminded of what I lost. Even if I went all month without crying or thinking badly about my loss; even if I went all month with positive, wonderful things happening, and no sad or angry moments; even if all month I was able to NOT think about the immense pain that sits in the middle of my chest (not likely, but we can always hope), I am ALWAYS reminded of those last days every time I put that uniform on and head into drill. The same uniform I used to love donning and was proud to zip up and walk out the door in, is now a uniform that is a constant reminder of my loss every time I put it on. It is not one of those good reminders, like seeing a rose in bloom or hearing a song that makes me smile in remembrance of my daughter. It is one of those painful reminders that makes me anxious, depressed, and even angry.

In therapy this may be considered a "breakthrough". I have realized one reason for my anxiety, now it is a matter of figuring out how to deal with all of this; but for now I breath a sigh of relief for yet another drill weekend passing, I look forward to the next few weeks of not thinking about going back, and in a few weeks I will start to mentally prepare myself again for yet another round. 

Christmas Just Isn't the Same Without My Rose

My Christmas Spirit is gone. I do hope it decides to return today or Sunday, but as of last night, it has left the building. I came into work exhausted with a major headache. I was spent already, and I had a whole 12 hour shift to get through.

Foster and I walked into a beautifully decorated church last evening. It was filled to the rims with people. Between the C and E Catholics (Christmas and Easter mass participants only) and everyone's families, there was not a seat left in the house. Foster and I were fortunate enough to stand by a family who squeezed together in order to make room for us. We did not ask them to, they just put kids on laps and invited us in. I was pleased to see we were situated on the outside perimeter of the church, and the front row, because I had a feeling this was going to be a difficult mass, and the less amount of people surrounding me, the better. I was doing pretty good for most of the mass. I cried a little during "Silent Night", but since the singer was unable to stay completely on key,  I would giggle from time to time, and it kept me from getting too into the music. But then communion came. I always get a little emotional during communion. This time the tears started flowing, and as soon as Foster started rubbing my back, I turned to him and tears were welling in his eyes, "This Christmas was supposed to be so different," I whispered to him.

"I know sweetheart."

I laid my head against his shoulder, and he rested his head on mine, and we cried through the rest of communion. I sobbed. The shoulder heaving, snotty nosed sobbing. The lady next to me handed me some tissues and leaned over, "It will get easier, it is always hard around the holidays," she said as I accepted this small act of kindness. She had no knowledge of our loss, but probably figured we had lost a close family member. As the mass came to an end, she turned to me an asked, "May I ask who you lost?"

"Our daughter," I said.

"Oh sweetheart," she said and she started to tear up, "I am so sorry."

The little boy down the pew kept looking at me and motioning for his mother to look at me, and it looked as if he was asking why I was crying. This poor little man probably thought I was crazy. He probably could not imagine someone being sad on Christmas Eve, because Santa would be coming this night, and everyone should be happy right? Well, not us baby loss moms. This is SUPPOSED to be a happy time, but for us this day, the birthday of our Lord Jesus, is a hard time for us no matter how far a long in our journey we are. If things had played out the way they were supposed to, we should be opening lots and lots of presents for our baby girl and watching her be more interested in the wrapping paper than the gifts that were concealing.

Instead, Foster and I are celebrating with my side of the family on the 26th and celebrated with his side this past week. There is a feeling of something missing, there probably will always be from here on out, but it is nice to spend time with family.

Tonight, however, I am done, emotionally spent, and just wish the 26th would come already. This is a point where I say "I want my mommy and daddy," yes folks, even a 29 year old woman wants nothing more than the warm embrace of her parents when she is hurting, that familiar place in my mom and dad's arms that makes everything better.

I did receive some good news today, a great little surprise for the 26th. My aunt and uncle from Georgia are heading in to celebrate. Aunt and Uncle Georgia Peach are some amazing people. Although they live so far away, they have always been such a huge support. Aunt Georgia Peach has been a spiritual support in the last 8 months, and then recently has helped with my ministry by agreeing to embroider the canvas bags for Roses from Rosalynn with the logo. She has a talent with the sewing machine and has produced some of the most beautiful quilts and hand made pieces I have ever seen. She didn't even hesitate when I asked this huge favor. I love her so much, and I actually get to hug and thank her in person. She is another one of my angels here on earth.

Now, Uncle Georgia Peach is hilarious! He can bring a smile and laughter to any situation. He possesses this wonderful gift, and God knows we will need it! I am soooooo thankful that they will be joining us this week!

I am praying for some peace in my heart and the hearts of my fellow baby loss parents. I am sure our little ones are looking down on us and smiling. Remember, they are celebrating Christmas in Heaven with Jesus.....what a great celebration that will be!!

My First Christmas In Heaven:

I see the countless Christmas trees around the world below
With tiny lights, like Heaven’s stars, reflecting on the snow
The sight is so spectacular, please wipe away the tear
For I am spending Christmas with Jesus Christ this year.
I hear the many Christmas songs that people hold so dear
But the sounds of music can’t compare
with the Christmas choir up here.

I have no words to tell you, the joy their voices bring,
For it is beyond description, to hear the angels sing.
I know how much you miss me, I see the pain inside your heart
But I am not so far away, we really aren’t apart.
So be happy for me, dear ones, you know I hold you dear.
And be glad I’m spending Christmas
with Jesus Christ this year.

I sent you each a special gift, from my heavenly home above.
I sent you each a memory of my undying love.
After all, love is a gift more precious than pure gold
It was always most important in the stories Jesus told.
Please love and keep each other, as my Father said to do
For I can’t count the blessing or love he has for each of you
So have a Merry Christmas and wipe away that tear
Remember, I am spending Christmas
with Jesus Christ this year.
( by Author Unknown)

Strike Four....Your OUT!!!!!

I have been having so many interesting things in my life happen, that I honestly don't know what to choose to post about today. I hope I have more time this week to catch you all up on everything!

Foster and I have been spending some much need time together this weekend. We have been in the same vicinity of each other for the last three days, and it has been great.

I started my weekend out with my very first counseling session. I THOUGHT it would be a good kickoff to the weekend, because I figured it would put me in a good mood and clear my head. Boy was I wrong!! I walked in to a 60+ year old woman. She seemed a little stern, and not very comforting like you would imagine a grandmother-aged woman to be. As I sat down, she started asking me the typical questions, "What brought you in? Why now 6 months later?, etc" It seemed a little strained. For one, I did not feel like we could really connect, because we were decades apart in age, and there was really nothing we would find in common. Also, she comes from a generation that treated baby loss a whole different way. Most of the 50+ women I know who have lost a child, never got to hold, see or even know what gender their baby was.

I mentioned to her that I was having anxieties and thoughts that I knew were not normal. I had very dark thoughts when the subject of my deployment came up, I can't sleep when my husband is gone, and I have feelings of urgency to get pregnant for multiple reasons. One of these reasons is my mom. I know she does not worry about her own health, but I constantly do. She has not seen a doctor since my sister was born 25 years ago! She smokes and is over weight. She knows this, is aware of it, but still does not want to go to a doctor for them to just tell her she needs to quit smoking and lose weight. Now, to give her credit, she is a very hard worker, and is always active. She works all over the farm without stopping. She constantly reminds Bug and I that she could probably out do us any day of the week. This is very true, but I still fear for her, and along with this fear is the want to give her another grandchild before something bad happens.

First strike against this counselor is in the first fifteen minutes of our meeting she suggested medication. I immediately told her NO. Not only do I NOT want to be a zombie, but I am also currently trying to get pregnant, and I do not want it to affect my fertility or the next baby. Most anti-anxiety medication are dangerous to a fetus. Plus, I am not disabled by my anxiety therefore no medications are required.

I gave her an example of what makes me nervous. I get a little social anxiety when I am in large groups of people who do not know what has happened. Inevitably, when you are 29 and married, one of the first questions is "Do you have any children?" Well, we all know the answer to this is, "Yes, but she lives in heaven." However, if I follow up the question with this answer to a complete stranger, there is the uncomfortable silence, the pity filled facial expression, and the "I am so sorry," that follows. I always feel as if I am the one consoling them by the end of the conversation. This was her response:

"Well, you should answer 'No', because you are not a mother."

EXCUSE ME?!!!???!! Even my husband said he knows better than to tell a baby loss mother that they are not a mother. "Yes, I am a mother. I birthed her, held her, and still love her with every being of my soul!" I exclaimed.

"Technically you are not though, because you do not parent her here on earth."

"Would you tell a mother who lost their only child at 5 years old that they are not a mother?" I asked.

"No, but she was a mother."

"So was I. I agree that I am not a parent, because being a parent would mean I would have to have a child to 'parent', but I am still a mother!" I could not believe what was coming out of her mouth. I wanted to smack her.

Obviously strike two was this lovely exchange of words.

Strike three was when she disregarded anything I had to say about my faith. I mentioned my thoughts on my "feelings" prior to the loss and how I thought it might have been God's way of emotionally preparing me. She brushed it off and said that she believed it was just woman's intuition. I tried to tell her multiple times that faith is what has kept me strong so far, and she brushed it off as if I was using faith as a crutch. I wanted to scratch her eyes out by this point.

Strike four is when she was putting words in my mouth. I expressed my anger towards the Nat. Guard for not filing my paper work when it should have been done.  If it had been taken care of, I would not be stressing over the upcoming deployment, because I would not be in the Army anymore, and would not be going on the deployment. She turned all of my words around and said that she felt that I was angry at the Nat. Guard because I blamed them for my loss. Is that what I said? I don't think so! Now I was envisioning beating her head in with a stick.

As if this was not enough, she asked, "Since you won't let me put you on drugs, how do you expect to deal with these problems?" This was the third suggestion at medication, and I was getting a little annoyed.

"Ummmm.....isn't that why I am coming to you? Aren't you supposed to help me talk through them, and come up with other ways to deal with my issues?"

"I guess," she replied, "But do you think talking to me is really going to help?"

Well, I guess not.

I came out of that appointment fuming. I called Foster and unleashed, and then immediately called Military Onesource and requested a change in provider. They listened to my complaints, and quickly got me an appointment with another psychologist. Unfortunately, this one lives 30 minutes away, but hopefully she will be a little more compassionate.

Needless to say, my first experience with counseling has not been a good one, but I still have hope.

For you BLMs, how many counselors did you have to go through until you found a right match?

Has anyone else had such a bad experience with counseling?

6 Long but Short Months....

< I awoke this morning overwhelmingly sad. I have been so busy with work and school, I have gotten very little sleep, and realized that I wouldn't get the chance to visit my daughter's grave on her 6 month angelversary. I was terrified that people would forget. I should have known better. I got a call from my sister today while I was at work that not only made me cry tears of sadness, but also of joy. She was the loving aunt, and went out to Rosalynn's grave site and spent some time with her and my Granny. My heart swelled, because I am so blessed to have such an amazing sister. Bug has the most gentle soul, and she truly loves her family, including Rosalynn. She took a beautiful red balloon out and released it so Rosie could catch it. She said the rosary with Granny and Rosie, and then read Rosie a beautiful book. As she put it "We had a little party in the cemetery." She did what I couldn't do for her niece today. div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">

I was so relieved. A comfort came over me upon getting the news that someone who loved her so deeply visited her today. Kate did mention that it was a little depressing, because her marker is not yet placed. There is only a small piece of wood where her headstone will soon be.

A friend of mine from Missing Olivia, a fellow BLM and Army wife, sent me some pictures from her cross country trip. These were taken at Lake Tahoe, and although she took them a few weeks ago, she sent them to me today, and I am thankful that she did. For one, they are beautiful. She has a camera similar to my new one, and now I NEED to learn how to use it, because I want to take pictures like this. Second, I needed them today. I know it was probably not intentional to send them today, the 20th, the six month marker, but sometimes God has funny ways of working, and her timing couldn't have been more prefect.

Six months, wow! At times it feels like a lifetime ago, but then again, it feel like it just happened yesterday. The pain is sometimes too raw, especially if I am tired or stressed. Time is flying by way too fast, and yet the world came to a screeching halt for me 6 months ago today. 

  
                               

Thank you all for your love and support. The messages on facebook, the calls and texts. I appreciate them more than you know. It made my fear from this morning dissipate. The people that matter have not forgotten, and hopefully never will.

I also have one problem I want a little advice on. Foster told me today that he told one of his guys that we would come over on Sunday and visit their new baby girl. Don't get me wrong, I am very happy for them, but I have a problem with this. First of all, it took me almost 2 months to visit my friend Mrs. Davey (from this post) and her new daughter. I have known her for close to six years, and love her to pieces. Also, the Eastwood's (also from the same post) baby I saw when they were still in the hospital because she knows the feeling of loss and had a very complicated pregnancy. I have known her since before high school, and was rooting her and Baby Eastwood along for 9 long months. There is a reason it was easy to visit them. Not only are they amazing friends, but they let me talk about Rosalynn, and ask questions like "How are you REALLY doing?" and REALLY want to know the answers. I am not close to this couple on Sunday. I don't want to see their baby, I don't want to hold their baby, I don't want to fake that everything is ok. I don't want to make them feel uncomfortable if we start talking about pregnancy pains and adventures like all ex-pregnant women do. I do not know how comfortable they will be with me in their homes. I just don't want to go. Foster insists that I do. He seems to think that it will be "good" for me, and does not see my side of the issue. I understand he wants to support one of his guys, and I will gladly cook some food for them, but please, please, please do not make me go with you. I partially wonder if he wants me to go because he wants my support as well. He may need me to be there for him so he will be strong. What do you think?

Prayers Needed Everywhere

I did it, I finally called a counselor. After my reaction to the upcoming deployment, and after I had a meltdown at 1AM on Monday night, I decided I needed to call a counselor. I HATE to admit it. I HATE to say that I can't handle this grief, however the counseling is on the Army's dime, so why they heck not take advantage of it. If it helps, great! If it doesn't, I didn't waste anything other than an hour of my time a week.

It's weird, I was explaining to Foster that I almost feel worse now than I did 3-4 months ago. I have been talking to a lot of my fellow BLMs, and the one who lost their angels around the same time I did are having the same feelings. When I discussed this during my initial phone consultation this afternoon, the comforting voice on the other end told me this was completely normal. So many people expect grief to be like a sloping line, gradually getting better with time. In actuality, it is more like a spiral that slowly gets bigger. You pass the start point from time to time and the grief pops up almost as hard as it did at the beginning, however, as the spiral gets further out, the moments get further and further apart, and less and less crippling when they do pop up. She also explained that the most common time for this phenomenon happening is approximately 5-6 months out from the loss. I am glad this is part of the normal grief process.

Back to Monday night. I was finishing up my homework and started watching TV just around midnight. I felt alone all of the sudden. Foster was gone on an training mission, and the house was quiet. That is when it hit me that it shouldn't be like this. I should have a little girl to keep me company. I lost it. I was sobbing and had no distractions other than two very concerned puppies. They both laid their chins on my leg and lovingly looked at me with concern in their eyes. I attempted to call my sister, but I was pretty sure she was working. I was right. I did the only thing I could figure to do, I put a message on facebook in hopes that someone would still be awake: "Having a bad night and can't sleep". I wanted a distraction. I wanted someone to talk to get my mind off things or let me just cry. I know there have been many people tell me I can call them at any time, but 1 AM is pushing it!

Lo and behold I received a message from an old friend. She used to work with me in the ER until her husband joined the military, and now they are in Kansas. She wasn't sleeping either. She was in a hospital room, alone, as if in a prison cell. She is currently in isolation from receiving an oral radiation treatment for treating thyroid cancer. She can't be around her kids or husband for 8 days because she will still be radioactive. She called me after a few messages on facebook, and we proceeded to have a pity party for ourselves. By the end we were laughing and we both felt better. It was a very healing conversation, and just what I needed to snap me out of my funk.
I went up to bed and quickly fell asleep.

Bright and early I got a call from my sister. She had seen the missed call and was concerned since it was such a late call. When I answered I was not going to tell her about my night, but she could tell there had been something wrong, so she pushed until I finally caved. "I had a bad night," I replied.

"I did too," Bug said.

"Why?" I asked.

"Do you remember the pregnant girl I work with I told you about?"

Of course I did. I remember every person who is pregnant, because there is that slight jealousy that comes with it. I want to be in their shoes, "Yes," I started to get a little nervous, because her voice sounded sad.

"She lost her baby girl. She was going to be induced on Monday, noticed there was a decrease in movement on Friday, went in to be checked and there was no heartbeat."

My heart stopped. I was heartbroken. Another angel taken too soon, and my poor sister was close to this woman too. Then I started getting more upset, because unfortunately the policy is not changed at our work yet, and will not be changed until July. This is another woman that will only get 2 weeks off to deal with her grief, and I felt like I failed, because the point of me changing the policy was to help women like her. I was hoping there would never be another in our system, but there is, and so soon after me. I hope that she has some sick leave and vacation saved up that she will be able to take a little extra time if she feels she needs it. I am devastated for her. She is in for a rough road and I wish there was a way I could take away her pain. Right now, however, I need to focus on my healing, and hope that my first session goes well next week. Wish me luck, please please pray for my friend that her cancer reacts to this treatment, and of course keep my sister's friend in your thoughts and prayers.

Roses From Rosalynn

I am following a blog entitled "The Lady's Blogger Society". Today they had a post about unrealistic goals to be the perfect blogger. One of them happens to be to post at least 3 times a week. WOW! I have failed miserably in the last few weeks at that one!! Trust me, it is not because I am short on things to write about, or that I have not had interesting things going on in my life; it is mostly because I have become so bogged down with homework, work, and projects, that I have not had the time recently. Also, because I have been sick, and unfortunately, when I am sick, I don't feel as creative. In fact, all I want to do is sleep! I slept 12 hours Friday night. I got up around half-time of the OSU game, and napped on and off on the couch until Foster came home from drinking beer @ the VFW with his buddies. I was SUPPOSED to work, but my inability to breath, mixed with the nastiness that was leaking out of every orifice of my body, caused me to call off. Would you feel comfortable as an ER patient coming in and seeing one of the staff members sick as a dog, plus the multiple trips to the bathroom every hour have been exhausting!!!

I decided that not only do I need to be the soldier from now on, but I need to be sick more often! Foster is a complete sweetheart when I am not feeling well. Once again, he had most of the laundry done and the kitchen clean two mornings in a row! I am putting him in for the "Housewife of the Year" award!

My Birthday is quickly approaching, along with our wedding anniversary, and Christmas. I have been dropping hints for months that I want a REAL camera. The type of camera I can add lenses to, take a class through OSU and capture beautiful pictures. Well, God love my hubby, he has purchased me one. I BELIEVE it is a Cannon. I have not received it yet, although, I think he is going to give it to me before my birthday because he knows how badly I want to capture the beautiful colors of the trees as they change colors this fall. He said that our wedding photographer (the one who took the AMAZING photo at the top of my blog page) would give me free lessons if Foster purchased a Cannon for me, so that is what makes me think it is a Cannon. Don't you worry, as soon as I get it, you will know, and I guarantee I will be speing hours the first day playing with it taking photos.
As if I don't have enough going on, I have decided to get in touch with "Project Sweet Pea". It is an organization that makes bags for NICU babies and their families and Baby Loss Families. Each bag will contain a combination the following determined by the situation:
~Blanket
~disposable camera
~hand and foot print molds
~journal and pen
~hat and booties
~outfit (a little more dressy for the Stillborn in case they want to bury them in it)
~small bottle of shampoo and lotion for the baby's first (and sometimes only) bath
~a pair of tiny scissors and a little bag for mom and dad to get a lock of hair
~a teddy bear for mom to cuddle with, and a small one for baby
~baby brush and comb
~tissues
~baby books for mom and dad to read to baby in the NICU
~gas card for mom and dad to get back and forth
~picture frames
~votive candle and holder
~holiday themed items to decorate isolettes in the NICU

I looked on their web page, and they do not have a chapter of Project Sweet Pea in Ohio as of yet, so I will be starting it up. It will be entitled "Roses from Rosalynn".

Roses have a very special meaning to me. They give me hope. I was given a rose bush by Foster's side of the family on the day of her funeral. Every time it blooms it puts a smile on my face and is almost like a promise for the future. I want to pass that same hope onto other families. I want them to know that no matter how grim the situation is, there is still hope, and never to give it up.

If anyone knows where I can get any of these items in bulk, let me know. I may be pleasantly surprised by some back pay from the Army, and I would like to invest it into my little project. I want to get some bags embroidered or screen printed with "Roses from Rosalynn" and a pretty pink Rose on them. As I get the project going, I will create a web page with all the info, and ways that people can get involved if they want. I am really excited. I have been chomping at the bit to get something going, and I feel like I have control over this project and can get it going pretty quickly! I am going to START the project in Central Ohio NICUs, however, would like to eventually expand it through all of Ohio.

Don't worry, I am still going to be part of BIHAA, but things seem to be moving too slow for me right now, and I need something extra since my momentum is still through the roof, and I don't like the feeling of sitting around WAITING for things to happen, so I make them happen myself.

No Truer Words Were Said

“Do not judge bereaved parents. They come in many forms. They are breathing, but they are dying. They may look young, but inside they have become ancient. They smile, but their hearts sob. They walk, they talk, they cook, they clean, they work, they ARE, but they ARE NOT all at once. They are here, but part of their heart is elsewhere for all eternity. “ -Unknown

I came across this quote, and could not have said it better myself.

No matter how much fun I am "having" I constantly feel an emptiness inside of me. Unless I am talking to or around other Baby loss moms or Foster, I never feel like the people I am with fully understand the pain I am CONSTANTLY feeling. A perfect example of this is in Chicago this past weekend. I was at a tailgate party in a bar for my favorite football team, OSU, with two of my favorite people on earth, Bug and JJ. Yet it was not the same. It was not the same as last year when I sat drinking water instead of beer because I was pregnant, enjoying the games with my friends. This time I felt a loneliness even though the entire bar was full of people. I felt self conscience, and even a little bit anxious when strangers got into my personal space. I smiled on the outside, but I was out of place and not happy, inside I was screaming.

I am coming up on my 29th birthday and our one year anniversary. However, I feel like I have lived a lifetime and should be celebrating my 80th. I feel like Foster and I have been married for ages and should be celebrating our 50th. We have gone through so much in our first year of marriage, and it has made us stronger, but it has aged us. You will no longer find us seeking out nights at the bars with friends, or crowded parties like other 29 and 30 year olds. Instead, we enjoy small groups and intimate nights with just the two of us.

I cook, I clean, but not with as much passion as before. I work, but as a shell of my former self. I walk, and everyone knows that I talk...ALOT....but most of the talking is out of anxiousness now a days. Before you could not get me to shut up because I loved talking about life in general. Now I talk to avoid the awkward silences and to make people think I am okay. Honestly, I also talk to keep off of the subject I want to talk about the most. I want to talk about my daughter. About how much I miss her, how beautiful she was/is, about how ticked off I am that it is getting closer to winter and her headstone is STILL not in. I want to talk about her so my biggest fear does not come true, that I will start to forget her. People don't always want to hear about this stuff. I feel so bad for my family and husband. They get an ear full because they are the only ones I feel comfortable talking about her to, and I feel that there are times they may not want to hear about her.

A part of my heart is gone. It resides up in heaven with my precious angel, and I will only get it back when I join her. Other children may come into my life, but I will always miss my first born. I will always be very aware of her absence no matter what the occasion.

Rosalynn....."until we meet again, may God hold you in the palm of his hands."

My Voyerism and Exhibitionism Finally Paid Off!!

I was planning on posting about my second day in Chicago today, but it will have to wait because I had a very pleasant surprise today. In blog land I follow a lot of different blogs. I follow Baby Loss Blogs, which have led me into finding some amazing blogs on adoption and infertility. I also follow a lot of military wives' (milies) blogs. A few of them actually overlap. I of course have my favorites, the ones I like to call my "blog crushes". As soon as I log on, I filter out those blogs and get updated on them before reading the other updates. Imagine my surprise when I received an email from one of my "crushes". I was ecstatic just to see her name pop up into my INBOX, but I was over the moon when I read why she was contacting me.

Her husband is an officer in the Army, just like Foster, and they are PCSing (moving in civilian terms) to a new base. They happened to be passing through my city in approximately three hours and wanted to know if we wanted to meet up. As I checked the time of the message, I noticed I still had about 2 hours, so I called Foster to see what he thought. I explained to him why this woman was so important to me. You see, not only is she a fellow Army wife, but she also lost her daughter Olivia around 36 weeks gestation about 9 months ago. She was one of the first blogs I started following. She seemed so strong and she inspired me, because I had Foster home to help be my rock, but 2 weeks after she lost Olivia, Priscilla's husband had to return to Afghanistan. I immediately had a huge amount of respect for them as a couple. PLUS this was not their first loss! Reading her story made me stronger.

To top it all off, it just so happens that Foster had today off of work because he had just returned from a grueling trip of white water rafting and needed a day to recover. It could not be anymore perfect! We could have a double lunch date! When Foster agreed, I called Priscilla and we made arrangements to meet.

About two hours later, we walked into Olive Garden and I recognized them right away. Once again, just as I was nervous about meeting Holly from Caring for Caleigh , I was just about as nervous to meet James and Priscilla. However, those nerves dissipated quickly as we all started talking. Of course our children came up, but we talked about so much more. We talked Army, moving, dogs, and more. Foster and James had a lot in common, and I found out that Priscilla and I have even more than I thought in common. As if being mommies to angels, dog lovers, blog writers and wives to officers wasn't enough, we both majored in Psychology. It also took her quite a while to finish school, so she completely understood why I was still not finished.

After numerous bowls of soup, bread sticks and salads, we headed out to the parking lot to meet one of my favorite characters on her blog, their basset hound Obadiah (Oba for short). He makes me laugh so hard when I read stories about him, and I was honored to finally meet the little man in person. He is just as cute in person as he is in pictures, and he just LOVED Foster!!

Although we will be living hundreds of miles away, I hope to continue a friendship with this family, and I pray that both our families will be blessed with a healthy, beautiful bundle of joy soon. I am so happy that we got the opportunity to enjoy a meal together and get to know each other, for it is such a blessing to have people like these in our lives.

Visit her beautiful blog, and get to know Priscilla, James and Oba, at Missing Olivia ~ missingolivia.blogspot.com, and I am sure you will understand why their story has been such a huge part of my healing.
Thank you Priscilla for the wonderful surprise!

Isn't it Ironic??

It would be fitting that today, September 20th, I would finally get an email with the finilization of Rosalynn's headstone. Now it will take 6-8 weeks to go in the ground. Great! it will not be in by my 6 month deadline! Do not think that just because I did not mention it in this morning's post, that I somehow forgot that today marks five months since my precious daughter grew angel wings. As I have mentioned numerous times, I think of her all the time. For instance, I was looking at my military ID on Sunday, and realized that the date that I swore in was April 20th 2008. Interesting how that had never crossed my mind since my daughter died. I was always proud of the day that I enlisted. April 20th had always been a day of pride. I also knew that it meant that 6 years from that day would be the day I could decide to re-enlist or get out.

It is interesting how my priorities have changed. What used to be the biggest accomplishment in my life so far, being a soldier, has taken a back seat to being a mother to an angel and the want to be a mother to a living child here on earth. Even the day I enlisted is now overshadowed by the death of my Rosie. When I realized this, I had to laugh at the irony.