The Rabbit Hole

Yesterday, I let myself go down the rabbit hole a little further than I would like.  You see... I worry all of the time.  I worry that Aden will die from some random freak disorder or accident or something.  But... I don't actually think about what I will do if he dies.  It may seem insane-  how can I worry about something and not think about what I would do if that thing happens?  I don't know, but I just don't.  Until yesterday.

When I was pregnant with Owen... I lived in this space where I thought of what I would do if he died every day.  I did not have the luxury of thinking or saying "oh my gosh, I don't know what I would do if something happened to him".  I had to know.  I had to have a realistic, real-life plan about what we were specifically going to do if he died.  I knew where we would have the funeral service, where he would be buried, and had the phone numbers ready of Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (the photography service that takes family photos of lost infants).  I lived in this space every day, and it was a deep dark hole.  Most people don't understand that I was grieving for him before I lost him.  I'm not saying I was ready to lose him... I always had a small piece of hope... but I have been grieving for what feels like a very long time. 

I have not lived in this place during my pregnancy with Aden.  A worried place?  Yes.  Even a crazy place?  Absolutely.  But I have not let myself make real life plans for what I will do if he dies.  I cannot do that.  Because I know that it would crush every part of me that I have left.  I know that it's possible he won't come home.  There is no karma plan for people who have lost children... that they are somehow owed a healthy child afterwards.  Life isn't fair, and it doesn't work that way.  No one is "safe" from tragedy.  Terrible things happen to great people all of the time.  But I have been able to shut off the plan-making part of my mind to that terrible possibility for this pregnancy. 

Yesterday, Aden just wasn't moving enough for me.  To be fair, I don't know that he could ever move enough to satisfy my worrying.  But in any case, I was deciding whether or not to go to the hospital to be put on the monitors, when my mind went to that place.  In a mixture of flashbacks and new images, I let myself see my life if he dies.  Having two baby headstones at the cemetery and no baby to hold.  Re-living the impossible-ness of surviving this past year and a half.  And so I cried.  and cried.  and cried.  And I couldn't stop because I just can't make those plans.  I love Aden as much as I love Owen.  And I just can't do it.  So thankfully I had to pull myself together and go into work.  I got to pull myself out of that hole before it overtook me completely.  I don't want to go there again.  I want to be a mommy to my rainbow baby and my angel baby, not a mommy to two angel babies.  There is nothing I can do to change the outcome of this pregnancy, and I know that.  If only all it took to get a healthy baby was to take your vitamins and cut out certain foods/drinks, I would be SET.  But that is not the case.  I have 3 months to go... and it feels like the longest three months.  Please keep my rainbow in your thoughts... and maybe my sanity too.

Here's hoping for a healthy rainbow, and staying out of the rabbit hole in the meantime.  <3 to my boys.  

Day of Hope

Yesterday, August 19th, is called the Day of Hope for babylost parents.  Last year, it was not a day of hope for me, because I couldn't see that yet.  Yesterday felt much different than a year ago, though the missing is still the same.  I cried on my way home from work, and seriously considered curling up in a ball and continuing when I got home.  I miss Owen so much it still takes my breath away sometimes when I think about the reality of what has happened in the past two years.  Not just to Lucas and me, but to our entire family.  Saying that it hasn't been particularly great would be a gross understatement.  We have lost too much, and it seems that curve balls just keep coming. 


But yesterday, I tried to think about Aden, and what life might be like if he gets to come home.  This is where my hope comes from right now.  The thought of getting to put my baby in a carseat to come home from the hospital makes me cry every time.  Small things.  Things that most people get to assume will happen when they get pregnant.  Those are my utopia.  Seeing him breathe,  hearing him cry,  and holding him and getting to be happy, instead of mourning the end of his life.  I hope for these things so hard it hurts. 

I wish more than anything that I could have both of my sons here with me... but that's not what yesterday was for.  It was about looking forward and seeing a life that I can find some happiness in.  Raising Aden here on Earth, and being a parent to Owen's memory everyday.  That is the best case scenario for me right now, so I will hope for that. 

For Real?

Sometimes this pregnancy still doesn't seem real.  Yes, I get happy when Aden is moving... I worry... I go to my doctor appointments... worry some more.  But sometimes, when I'm laying in bed... it just seems like something I dreamed.  I still don't know that I believe we'll take home a baby this time.  Like he's just this wonderful thing I am allowed to imagine, but maybe not to have.  I want it so badly, and I'm so afraid we won't be able to have it again.  I push myself to do what I'm afraid of... I have been buying baby things, decorating, and dreaming.  All of the things that scare me, but I don't care.  I want to make happy memories during this pregnancy... I can't let the whole thing be fear.  I want to "fake it till I make it"  and if I keep acting like I know he's going to come home, then maybe he will. 

I keep staring at Owen's pictures... wondering if Aden will look like him.  He was a beautiful baby and I'm sure he's a beautiful growing boy where he is.  <3 to both of my boys.