Trying Again

2010 has taken an interesting turn. Sorry I haven't updated in awhile. The entire family was sick and we possibly had a strain of H1N1 invading our house! I'm finally starting to feel better, but Terrell and I still have a nasty cough and sore throat that has come and gone for almost 4 weeks now.

Beginning in February I will start training for my new position as a Merchandise Specialist in the Buying Office. Anyone who knows me, knows that this is a position I have had my eye on for some time now. I felt it was time to take a leap and I'm glad I did.

I had my appointment with my new Reproductive Endocrinologist on January 6th. Dr Hayes seems very down to earth and I feel like this may be a great relationship. After reviewing my chart, she has decided we can start trying to conceive as early as February. Dr Hayes is starting by having some bloodwork done and an ultrasound. I will go back on the 25th for the dreaded HSG. HSG or hysterosalpingogram is a test where dye is injected into the uterus and xrays are taken to make sure both fallopian tubes are clear. I've heard it can be very painful, but I'm hoping it's over quickly and both tubes are open! Beyond this I'm not sure what Dr Hayes' plan of action will be. Although I'm thinking Metformin + Clomid. We shall see. Now that we are trying to conceive again my days will be counted as DPOs (days past ovulation). TTC, OPK, BBT, TWW, HPT, BFP... here I come!

On that note, I'm missing Willow a lot lately. I feel sad as I get closer and closer to my EDD (estimated due date). I also feel like we are betraying her by trying to get pregnant again. We know we cannot replace Willow, but we are praying for another baby to fill our empty arms.

20 Wishes

1. I wish you wouldn't be afraid to mention my baby. Just telling me you don't know what to say is okay. Sometimes I just need someone to listen.

2. I wish that you wouldn't make it awkward for me to talk about my baby. Just because I cry doesn't mean I don't want to talk about her.

3. I wish you wouldn't forget my baby. It's okay to bring her up more than once. She's on my mind everyday.

4. I wish you wouldn't think of my baby as one bad memory. I have many good memories of all the days I was pregnant. All the love I feel for my baby could never be considered a bad memory.

5. I wish you wouldn't pretend my baby didn't really exist. She was very real.

6. I wish you wouldn't assume I should be over this. Grief is very personal and everybody handles it differently.

7. I wish you wouldn't think that just because I'm having a good day that I'm "over it". I may smile and laugh and get through the day, just to cry myself to sleep at night.

8. I wish you wouldn't avoid me. Isolation only makes things harder to deal with.

9. I wish you would be patient with me.

10. I wish you would call my baby by her name, Willow.

11. I wish you wouldn't put a time limit on my grief.

12. I wish you would understand that although you may not have had the chance to see my baby, she is very real. I felt her, I smelled her and I held her.

13. I wish you would remember important dates such as her birth date or my due date. I will be thinking of her a lot during these days and I would like to know you have not forgotten.

14. I wish you would understand that losing my baby has changed me. I will never be the exact same person I was before.

15. I wish you wouldn't "remind" me that I have two other children. I know I have two children that I have already been blessed with, but I want my third baby as well. My children are not interchangeable.

16. I wish you wouldn't tell me about your neighbor's sister's best friend who lost 20 babies before carrying one to term.

17. I wish you wouldn't think that giving me "space" is the answer. You may be my only support system.

18. I wish you would understand that being around pregnant women and newborns is uncomfortable to me. The truth is, I feel jealous.

19. I wish you wouldn't say "It was meant to be" or "She's better off now". I don't think of it that way. I think my baby would be better off with me. That's how things were meant to be!

20. I wish you would understand that just because we are trying again doesn't mean we are trying to replace our baby. There is no guarantee that we will get pregnant again. And if we do, we will be anxious as we approach every milestone... second trimester, the date we lost Willow, etc... We will remain hopeful, but we will still fear that something could go wrong again.

Goodbye '09

Well, we made it through another holiday. I'm glad it's over, but it was good to see how happy the kids were with their presents. Terrell was very pleased with his Envy Touch cell phone and Xbox and it looked like Disney threw up in our living room. Now Olivia will really think she is a princess. As 2010 approaches, I have been reflecting on 2009 and what I hope to accomplish in 2010. After changing my mind many times (sometimes almost daily) we have decided to try to conceive another baby. I'm looking forward to my consultation with a Reproductive Endocrinologist on January 6th. I'm hoping she can offer more support and her expertise on PCOS.

As we prepare ourselves to deal with the ups and downs of infertility I still can't stop thinking about Willow. There is no way I can replace our littlest girl! We were planning to get the girls' room ready after Christmas, but now we only have one little girl. It's also hard to be supportive of all my pregnant friends or those who have newborns. I feel guilty for feeling jealousy at times, but I should be preparing to deliver my baby girl in 12 weeks.

Life Goes On

Is it possible that everyone has moved on except for me? It's as if time has been standing still. There are still those subtle reminders. Things so minuscule, I shouldn't even pay attention to. But they are the elephant in the room for me. I want to move on... I'm ready, but I don't think my heart will allow me.

Yesterday I met with my Ob/Gyn for my follow up. She told me that Willow's genetic testing shows that she was "normal". How could my baby be normal if she is dead and gone? I made an appointment with a Reproductive Endocrinologist. I'm hoping she can give me some more insight. I don't know what would hurt more... Not knowing what went wrong or knowing there is something wrong with my body (besides the PCOS).

Recently a friend lost her husband of 44 years. She seemed so at peace knowing her husband was with God. I wish I had her strength and faith.

Hope

I carried you inside my womb until the 21st week
When I heard the news, I could not speak
Your tiny heart beat no more
When I heard those words, my heart tore
I blamed myself even though they told me no
It was my job to protect you so

Willow Rose, our beautiful baby
I dream of what you would have been lately
I counted your ten perfect fingers and toes
They dressed you in delicate, crocheted clothes
Your miniature body lay lifeless
They tell me, you have two children, you're already blessed

I yearn everyday for my little girl
The days since I lost you are still a blur
All that is tangible are your ashes in an urn
Dried up funeral flowers; carnations, roses and ferns
All I have are dreams of what you would have been
My hope is in heaven, I will hold you again

Don't Forget

Will and I seem to be living in this bubble. Yes, we lost our baby girl... yes, we will get through this one day... yes, we want to enjoy each other and our friends again. We plead with you, don't avoid us like the plague. It's okay if you don't know what to say... neither do we. It's okay to tell a joke... we want to laugh. It's okay to just be there and say nothing, say anything, hug us or distract us, but please oh please, don't ignore us.

We know better than anyone that losing a baby is hard. We are living it. We don't want to lose our friends. Don't expect us to get over it. Everyday we wake up and relive our loss like we just woke up from a nightmare. EPT commercials, baby departments and crying babies almost become unbearable.

The pain from birth is still fresh in my mind. I slowly recover only to find my milk has come in days after I left the hospital. As we walk the aisles at Target like two zombies, a baby cries and my breasts ache. It's almost too much to handle.

And in the midst of all our pain, some forget that Will has lost a child too. His pain is different from mine, but very much the same. He named our baby Willow, long before we knew she was a girl. He spoke to her and rubbed my belly at night and talked about all his dreams for Olivia and Willow and Terrell. Now he's an outsider looking in. Trying to be there for me, but not sure what he should do. He kisses me everyday, soft gentle kisses on the forehead as he tells me over and over, "I love you". And I know he does. I always have, but I've never felt his love like this before.

Sleeping on Tear-Soaked Pillows

Willow Rose Wardlow was stillborn on November 12th, 2009 @ 7:03pm. She was 7.87 inches and only a mere 4 ounces. She is in God's arms, but she will always be in our hearts.

The days since Tuesday, November 10th have been a blur. What was supposed to be a happy day turned tragic. Will met me at the Dr's office, CD-R in hand. We were ready to get pictures and video of our baby girl, but instead we heard the words... "Your baby's heart is no longer beating". I couldn't stop crying as Will tried to keep his strength and ask every question he could think of. We were told the baby had stopped growing around 17 weeks. We don't know for sure how long she had been dead. How could this happen?

We delivered her 3 days later at St. Joseph Hospital. I held her tiny fingers in my hand and cradled her miniature body as I tried to memorize every feature. All the dreams I had for my baby vanished. Everything seemed surreal, like a bad dream. Dear God, please let me wake up.

Days later, my milk came in. Another horrible reminder of our baby who was lost. We avoid saying the word "baby" so Olivia doesn't talk about being a big sister or the baby in mommy's tummy. We are just hoping she forgets. But we know we will never forget our baby girl, Willow.