Just a vent and some news

So news first.

I got a hold of my doctor to go over my test results in detail. Turns out the nurse practitioner was a big fat liar. The tests on my placenta came back as normal: no infections, no abnormalities. The postpartum/genetic/problem screening came back mostly normal but with clotting issues. So I'm being referred to a perinatologist, or high-risk OB, who will recommend baby aspirin until another pregnancy and then may recommend continuing that regimen or daily lovenox injections. Good thing I'm a nurse, eh? Not that we are trying for a baby, because the one we want desperately is in heaven, but we do want a healthy baby who cries and is nice and pink and chunky. So we are leaving it in God's hands, like we did with Matthew.

So now for the vents.

Vent #1: Not getting my photos.
It's been 2.5 months since we had Matthew. The day we had him, we had a photographer from "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep" come and take professional photos of him and us. I found the paperwork and my husband's writing is so shaky (who can blame that?) that I wouldn't know what our address was. So we still haven't received the photos that were supposed to only take 2-4 weeks. I've tried calling and emailing the photographer and can't get a hold of anyone. So I turned to the corporate office and we will see what they can do. Normally, I would not be so frustrated since this was a free service but when you don't have many photos of your son and you can't recreate anything, it's imperative that you have the few moments memorialized.

Vent #2: Stupid comments.
I started a bible study last week. You would think that the women would be caring and supportive, especially the ones involved in the "care ministry" where they go to hospitals and homes and support those who are ill. Yeah. Right. I word vomited all over the place about losing three pregnancies in 2 years and one was stillborn and it's terrible and I am angry with God and not grateful for His goodness and I actually do wake up sometimes with terrible anguish (read on for more about that one) and my question was "am I a 'fool' for this?" Open mouth. Insert foot. Then comes the comments
"All things in God's time"
"God is a good, loving God"
"Just adopt! My friend adopted after multiple losses and then had a miracle baby"
"God's plan"
"You're young, you can have another"
blah blah blah. I stopped listening and started shutting down. My responses would be
"If it wasn't God's time, why did I get pregnant?"
"How is He good to me in this??"
"WHY???!!!! Do you know how much money is involved that I don't have and how low the chances are?"
"How is God's plan for my innocent son to die? What's wrong with you?"
"I've had THREE losses! That might be borderline okay to say after one loss, but I'm seeing a trend in my fertility. And you aren't a fortune teller. And I don't want another one because I want HIM"
Okay now that I got that out of the way, on to the next one.

Vent #3: Dreams.
I've been having vivid dreams. Dreams where I get to hold him and he's crying and breathing and MINE but he still dies. Dreams where I go through the whole thing all over again but instead of being perfect he's horribly disfigured. We are talking about arms coming out of the top of his head or an upside down face or eyes on the sides of his head. But the ones where he is alive and seemingly healthy but still dies in my arms fill my heart with an anguish so deep that I can't cry. There's no release. And then I hold on to that dream and obsess over it with the what-ifs. What if he was born crying and I got to hold him as he took his last breath? What if this reality was all a dream and I'm just taking one big sleep? Nope, not going there.

Vent #4: Hallucinations.
No, I'm not crazy. Apparently this is completely normal stuff for bereaved parents. For example, I was driving along one day and looked over my shoulder because I thought I saw something in my backseat through the rear view mirror. I thought I saw a chunky little baby that looks like how I thought Matthew would turn out. Same face but dark curly hair and blue eyes. I've also been experiencing phantom baby kicks. Again, totally normal. Even my best friend who had two healthy babies and no losses, feels baby kicks time to time. No, she's not pregnant. But this is nature's cruel joke. To feel the same kicks in the same spots as where Matthew kicked me all the way up to my labor. Not fair. Cruel.

So I don't feel better but I hope that I got some educational points out there. If not, here goes:
1. Don't say anything stupid. Just say "I'm so sorry" and hug me.
2. If I do get pregnant, I'm not replacing Matthew and I will resent and cut anyone who says otherwise.
3. If you wouldn't say it to someone who lost an adult child, elementary school aged child, or any other child, don't say it to me.
4. Even if I'm not crying, it doesn't mean I'm not deeply sad at that moment, so hug me.
5. If you see me rubbing my belly, know that I am feeling something that I wish was still really happening, then hug me.
6. Just hug me. I like hugs. You don't have to say anything about him either when you do so. You can just hug me hello and hug me goodbye. I like it. It makes me feel cared for.

Test Results

I got my test results back from blood work done a couple weeks ago. 13 vials of blood. 10 different tests. Everything came back normal. Normal?!? If everything is normal, then why the HELL do I have three babies in heaven. Three babies that I never got to hear cry. And yet, even with this news, my OB will not monitor my cervix next time around. I'm sorry? You want me to have ANOTHER loss before you take my concerns seriously? I already had to wait for three losses to do the blood work, why would I need a fourth loss. I'm beyond upset. 

I'm upset because nothing is wrong with me. 

I'm upset because the only thing I can blame for my son's death is my body. My body that betrays.

I'm upset because the only other explanation is not getting any support from those who could help.

I'm upset because this does not make me want to try for another baby.

I'm upset because I'm just upset. 

And I'm scared. I'm scared that the same thing will happen again, and again, and again, and again... When do I say enough is enough? How much heartache am I supposed to take? I'm scared because there is nothing I can do to prevent this from happening again. If it was a clotting issue, I would end up on baby aspirin and lovenox. If it was a thyroid issue then I would take medication or have surgery to correct that. If it's a diabetic thing (I'm not diabetic) then I can take insulin. The fact is that there is no answer. We don't know if it was a cervix issue or not. That would have to be diagnosed during pregnancy. I guess my goal is to find a doctor who will take me seriously and not have me chance another loss before being proactive. 

Church during grief

We've been going to church, even though it's painful to go. We sing songs about how much God loves us, we praise him for making all things good, we smile and shake hands with other people. The whole time we either stand in silence wondering how God could love us. Seriously. I have dark, bitter, angry thoughts. Sometimes I even wish that everyone had to experience a sliver of this pain. How could God love someone who looks at other pregnant women and wants to shake them and wants to scream at them to not take their baby and pregnancy for granted? How could God love that? How could the death of Matthew be "good"? How can God possibly make good come out of this intense heartache? Sometimes I question God. I question His goodness. I question His mercy. I question His love. Most of all, I question my faith. Do I trust God? I don't know. I don't even know how to pray anymore. I know that I will continue to go to church. At least it's a place where I can cry freely. Like today, I cried straight through worship. I will keep going to find my trust in God again. Without that, I will never see my son again.

What does help make me want to keep going to church is that so many people know about us. They may not know who we are or what we look like, but they know that there is a young couple who gave birth to their still born baby. The details may be a little fuzzy for most (we didn't go to the hospital expecting to give birth) but people there are praying for us.

I am having some good days. I still cry nearly every day but it's not always the violent type of crying.

Prayer requests for this week:
1. That God will show me how much He loves us just once
2. That I receive a "sign" from Matthew - I know he can't send signs but someway that reminds me that he is living
3. That I have at least one good day.

Where is God?

Forgive me as my thoughts and emotions are just needing to be tumbled out all over this post, so it will seem scattered but that's because I am scattered.

I've been having a tough time reconciling my faith to the unfairness of life. Where is God in the death of Matthew? Why does God let innocent babies die as their mother pleads for their life for her own? Why does God allow a 9-year-old girl to battle brain cancer for a third time? Where is He??

I used to have faith that could move mountains. After both of my first trimester miscarriages I felt close to Him. I knew He was there. I felt His arms around me, encouraging me. Now? Now I look forward to death every day, not because I want to be in heaven to be with Him, but because I want to hold my son. I don't know if I still have faith. I go through the motions but I don't feel Him. I don't see Him.

I know I'm battling major demons. I know that people just want to fix me. I know that therapy can help me. I know all that. I don't need to be told again. I know that I'm different and sad and mopey and I cry a lot and talk about how angry and bitter my heart is. I know that I get shut down quickly. Please don't do that to me anymore. The worst thing I can do is pretend that I'm happy when I'm not. I need to feel each emotion, I tried hiding it and pretending and it made me feel more disconnected from those around me.

I just ask that you pray for me. Pray that God reveals Himself to this aching, broken shell of a woman. Pray that God shows me where He is for the suffering and scared and where He was when I plead for a miracle for my miracle baby. That's what Matthew was. He was my miracle. My happy spot. My light. My future. When he died, so did my happiness and my future.