Dear Baby Who Should Be In My Arms Today

Dear Nugget,

Today should be filled with booties, camera flashes, oohs and aahs, and more importantly you should be in our arms.  Instead it's filled with tears and hurt, as it's now another date that reminds us that we'll never hold our sweet babies until heaven. 

You were in and out of our lives very quickly, but in those few weeks, I was your Mommy.  I started loving you and building hopes and dreams for you.  My precious baby, it breaks my heart that you're not here with us. 

As we've worked to accept our childless life on this side of heaven, there are days when the sadness is overwhelming.  Slowly though, we're healing. 

You're getting a cousin this year.  I will always wish that you and Doodle were here to be big cousins to Logan.  Seeing him grow through ultrasounds and hear his heartbeat at appointments is the most amazing thing; how I long that your stories had been ones of such happiness and joy.

As you spend your due date in heaven, I pray your Grandma is holding you tight.  I love you my sweet second baby.  I'll hold you in my heart always.

Love
Mommy

That Post I've Written 100 Times In My Head

In the past, I've vaguely mentioned a gift that was offered to us.  I've never really elaborated, but to put it quite simply, someone offered us one of the selfless gifts I could imagine.  Someone offered to carry our baby/babies for us. 

In the days before the IVF discussion that brought our dreams crashing down, this one person offered us more hope than we've felt in years. 

This post is for her.

Dear Friend,

How do I ever find the words to acknowledge the gift you offered us?  How do I ever express just how much you touched my heart?

The conversation we had was so much like others we have had in the past.   We joked.  You blushed.  We ate.  We vented.  Then you offered to babysit for us for 9 months.  I don't think it sunk in immediately.  Sometimes, I still don't think it has.  But in that conversation, you offered something that only the kindest hearted person could ever offer. 

The fact that you had done so much homework and research floored me.  The fact that you had considered how each person in your family would be affected is so "you." 

That night, I made a secret Surrogate  board on Pinterest.   I did so much reading.  I sat astounded at the "hugeness" of it all.

The truth is, I can't imagine a bigger honor than having my child grow near a heart as big as yours. If the baby could inherit one ounce of your character, it would be an amazing gain. 

As I sit and write (and cry, of course) I still sit dumbfounded.  What did I ever do to deserve such a gift? 

So even though, we'll likely never be able to explore this path, please don't think I'll ever forget the day you offered to carry my dreams.  Please never doubt that you helped heal my heart and that in the end you really did give me a gift I'll never forget.

As I end this, the words still don't seem to be right, or enough.  This post has sat unpublished for so long, for this reason alone.  I'll likely never find a way to repay you, even the slightest bit, but thank you.   I love you and your family and I'm blessed to call you my friend and my "almost could have been baby mama!"

Love, 
Me

My Least Favorite Day of the Year

When your Mom and Baby are in heaven, Mother's Day isn't exactly a day that you're super excited for.   I've done my best to keep busy and celebrate the wonderful women I do have in my life, but then I made the mistake of checking the mail. 

Don't get me wrong, the thought behind this is wonderful and thoughtful, but delivering the invitation on Mother's Day weekend was more than I was prepared for.   We'll be at the beach for the event; otherwise, we might consider going. 

As usual, there's no real point of this post.   Just a feelings dump more than anything else.   Maybe Mother's Day next year will be a little happier. 

Earth Has No Sorrow That Heaven Can't Heal

Come out of sadness
From wherever you’ve been
Come broken hearted
Let rescue begin
Come find your mercy
Oh sinner come kneel
Earth has no sorrow
That heaven can’t heal
Earth has no sorrow
That heaven can’t heal
-Crowder

I've been singing/humming this song all day.  I need reminded that one day all the tears and pain will be gone.  My Mom and our Doodle are in heaven; one day I'll see them again.

Today has been bittersweet.  The people who mean the world to me, put me together a book of letters.  Each one reflected so much about them individually and each one helped heal my heart.  How blessed am I to have these people in my life. 

March 29th will always be a day that's etched in my mind and heart.  Happy Due Date Doodle.  Mommy will always love you. 

Happy Mail

So excited to receive the beautiful bracelet I won in a giveaway on Dreaming of Dimples' blog.  Thank you for cohosting this thoughtful giveaway with Fertile Gems.  I'll definitely be ordering more items :)

I love my bracelet and can't wait to wear it during upcoming appointments.  This is also my first gift of baby dust so that was a nice surprise!  Xoxo

(My camera phone doesn't do the bracelet justice.)

Worry

I'm a worrier.  The Bible is full of verses telling us not to worry.  The internet is full of quotes giving us advice on not worrying.  Yet, I worry. 

I truly believe in my heart that everything is in God's hands, but I just can't turn off the worrying.  Huge hypocrite, maybe, but I'm working on it.

What if this is another failed cycle?   What if the new meds make me sick/mean/crazy?   What if I'm pregnant and it ends in another miscarriage?  What if I make it past miscarriage and my Unicornuate Uterus leads to premature labor/still birth? 

The innocence is gone.  I know too much.  I'm worried.   But, buried deep, I know that the answer to all the "What ifs" is we'll make it through.  We'll be devastated and cry.  A. LOT.  I'm worried about feeling that sad again.  I'm worried because I know there is a lower low than we've already been. 

I've got to find some optimism.  I've got to cling to my faith and have hope.  It's so hard. 

When Your Mom Goes to Heaven

My friend's Mom died yesterday.  Just typing those words makes me tear up.   I know the heart ache and I know the pain.  Sometimes I wish someone had warned me what to expect and told me how to make it through.   Sometimes I'm thankful they didn't.  

If I could tell her anything, it might go something like this.

Dear friend,

Welcome to the club that you never wanted to join.  The club that you don't truly understand until you're one of us and the club you wouldn't invite even your worst enemy to join.

Here we know a pain so deep it squeezes your heart and takes your breath.  You will question multiple times if it might kill you, it won't.   You will cry and wonder if there is ever going to be an end to the tears, there will.

Here we feel like we're on the world's fastest and longest roller coaster of emotions that will never end, but it does slow down.   You'll want to scream at the top of your lungs, "Don't you know my Mom is dead?" and hate everyone for living in normalcy, so scream if you want.

You'll pick up the phone to call her.  You'll listen to her voicemail message.  You'll cry because you don't know her meatloaf recipe.  You'll develop a deep hate for Mother's Day commercials.   You'll miss the things she did that drove you nuts, more than anything else.  

You will hear people say some of the dumbest things, but remember they're just trying to help (trust me, this is so hard.)  You will also see the good in people as they love and support you, let them help.

I know you're in a complete fog right now and it feels like it will never end.   As time passes, you'll realize that God and love are the only things that kept you upright during these days.  I won't tell you time heals all wounds, because it doesn't.  You'll cry less with time, but there will always be a hole in your heart.   It does get easier to breathe, and I promise that you will learn to smile at the memories that now only bring you tears.

You will make it through this hell.  I remember people telling me that and I thought, "Well obviously they didn't love and need their Mom as much as I do," but they did love them, they were just farther along in healing.   Speaking of healing, don't even read the stages of grief, you'll heal how you are meant to heal and if that involves meds, counselors or whatever else you need, do it.  

I promise I'm here to help you in any way possible.  I'll tell you every crazy meltdown I had (Walmart Spice aisle was a favorite), I'll teach you how to "therapy cook" for a small army, and most importantly I'll sit and cry with you, because you need to get it out.  

I'm sorry your world is shattered right now.  I'm sorry you won't see your Mom again until Heaven.  I'm sorry there aren't better words than, "I'm sorry."  But know you're loved and we'll get you through this. 

I know you can't see it now, but one day you will be able to help someone else through a time like this.  One day you'll realize you survived and that your Mom would want you to smile again.  It's all part of being in the club....

With love,
Misses My Mommy Too

Small Victories

Today I'm celebrating small victories.

  I woke up this morning and "read the news" aka scanned Facebook.  A guy I've known since kindergarten posted the announcement about his girlfriend expecting their son.  My first response was, "Crap, another assault before I've even had my coffee." But today, instead of crying, I tried some advice I was recently given.  I told myself their pregnancy is not about me.   I kept forcing myself to be rational instead of irrational and finally brought myself to tell them Congratulations.  And honestly, I am happy for them.  They deserve happiness, and on this journey, I've selfishly lost sight of that.  I still feel every announcement will hurt, but I'm trying....As the wise Dory says,  "Just keep swimming, just keep swimming!"

Later in the day, I was minding my own business in Target when I ran into a girl I used to babysit and her mom.  Her newborn daughter was in the cart and they stopped to chat.  Not even 60 seconds in and the mother asks, "No little ones on the way for you yet?  What are you waiting for?"  And again, I bit my lip and changed the subject.  I refused to cry or assault her!

I also told another friend about my miscarriage.  And contacted another cousin who I recently learned has been going through unexplained infertility and IVF.  

Tomorrow, something could knock me off my feet and have me sobbing, but for today, I'm patting myself on the back.