Wednesday, October 12, 2016
We should be in the single digits. 9 days until her due date. I should be nesting or resting or doing whatever moms do before birthing their first born. But I'm not because October, which was supposed to be our month to meet, came too soon. July was my Ocotber and while I never question God's whys I do ache for the what might have beens. I'm home sick today, woke up with a headache that felt like I got hit by a Mac truck and a bad cough and my chest hurts. Hoping my over the counter meds that are more expensive than even going to the doctor work. I always feel like the worse teacher when I take off, usually I try to push through, but here lately I just don't feel like my body is up to being pushed to the limit. Sometimes in my mind everything that happened is like a blue that never occurred, like my mind tries to block the loss, but can't. I have no choice but to try to be cheerful and to try to be me, but it's odd because I am not me that I once was at all. I am now Christina, the girl who lost her baby. It's my own fault that I'm known for it, I talk about her all the time. I guess that's the mom in me always wanting to share about her kids too much, but I'm the girl when I speak of my child who gets sympathetic looks. Then I feel guilty for even mentioning it. I don't want attention or sympathy off of my child, but I also can't shut up about it. She became a huge part of who I am, and subconsciously I guess I share for that reason. I never told her birth story, and probably won't share much, but I will share that within a few minutes of her coming out of the womb we learned she would die. It was no surprise, we knew what we were facing. After the NICU team giving a viliant effort our child was placed on my chest where she opened her eyes and looked at me. She wrapped her hands around mine and Trav's hands and I prayed over her loudly giving thanks To God for our creation. I told her how much I loved her and how much we prayed for her and I told her I was so sorry my body had failed her. I said everything I needed to say, and kept it together. I wanted to be brave so she didn't sense our sadness, but I cried, who wouldn't. We don't know the exact time she passed even though they officially announced it a few hours later. She drifted to meet the Lord on my chest. I remember it really hit me coming home from the hospital. The lady pushing my wheel chair said, "Didn't you just have a baby? Where is your baby?" I dropped my head and shared that she was with God. That was the first time I got a sympathetic look from a stranger about my child. I felt terrible for the girl. I still feel terrible when I share my loss to someone, like I just kind of blurt it out, then feel terrible. Getting back on track, the night we came home we slept in the living room. I had to sleep in the recliner due to pain from the csection. We watched Netflix, "Walt before Mickey". I can remember not being able to sleep despite the ambien I was given, and Trav falling asleep. It was in that moment that I felt the tremendous loss. I cried out in anger and recall Trav waking up to comfort me. I woke up several times that night having panick attacks and screaming out in pure turmoil. She was everything I ever wanted from the moment I was a child and she was gone. The next days were even harder, getting texts from Travis who bravely planned her service, I remember when the casket was shared with me nearly losing it. I mean hoenstly I should have been sending him pics of the overly priced high chair I wanted, but here I was getting a little white casket in my messages. It was by far the most challenging week of my life. Fast forwarding to now, I'm mentally stronger every day. But I am anxious, I am anxious as to when we can try again, I am anxious about how my body will hold up after a classical (not typical) csection, I am anxious to lose another one of God's creations in me. I smile all of the time and it's genuine. My class this year will never know how much they are loved by me and how much they are getting me through. I am very capable of real smiles and times that I even feel like the old me. But on days like today, where I stayed home sick (and I legitimately have a cold or bug Bc it's going around my classroom), all I have time to do is think. And I miss our child. I miss Ryleigh. I know I couldn't control a complication at conception, but I do hold the guilt and regret. I pray God gives me a shot to be an earthly mom and give her siblings, but to say I am terrified of the journey would be pure honesty. I trust in God's plans, but know His plan is not always ours. But fear is not trust, so I am trying hard to overcome that.