Stillborn - 167 days, or 5 months and 14 days - I miss you as much as the first day.

I haven't written to you in a while, though I have thought about it daily. You know what it would have said? I MISS YOU.

I miss you so much that it takes over my thoughts and makes it so hard to live in this present moment.

I have never missed anyone or anything like I miss you, my baby.

The short time that I felt you, grew you, was the best time of my life. And I didn't know it.

Your short little life, and your death has taught me so much. I would never, ever, wish that you never happened to me. In truth I would choose to do it all over again, just to know you, to see you, even knowing the terrible outcome.

It makes me think of the movie, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind. Feeling this ache in my heart and the knowing that I have to live the rest of my life without you in it. To wake every morning knowing that you're not here, and that you will never be, makes me question if I would choose to have this pain wiped away with the memories of you. I would be taken back to late September 2015. Before I took the pregnancy test at 2:00AM, before it was a blazing positive. Before I cried and felt so, so afraid. Before I woke your daddy to tell him and ask if he was afraid, if he was mad.

I wouldn't do it. I WOULD NOT. I would not choose to forget you. You were the best part of me, and the best part of your daddy. You were perfect. You were beautiful. You were our star.

There you are. This was immediately after you were born. Before they wiped the vernix from your soft skin. This was the first time I held you. My Baby.
Your daddy and I went to Sanibel on August 31st, almost a month ago. We had just arrived and I got our camera out to take pictures of our room and porch and the view of the beach. I noticed that there were pictures on the SD card. I was standing alone, on the porch and decided to look and see what was on there. You. You were on there. I didn't know. I didn't remember our camera being brought to the hospital. I didn't know that pictures of you were taken on there.
I screamed. I think it was a low guttural yell. I almost threw up. I couldn't breathe. I remember looking around for your daddy. My vision was getting dim - a little black around the edges. I remember that. Your daddy came out on the porch and hugged me while I screamed that "I didn't know, I didn't know, I didn't know". I was not prepared to see you.
Today. Today these few pictures are my favorite. We had professional pictures done of you later that day. But these - these are early. These are raw. These are you immediately after birth. These are my favorite and they were such a surprise.

I love you Faeryn. More than you will ever, ever know. As fucked up as it sounds you really changed my life for the better. I know that, deep down in my soul. Even as I sit here crying for you. My heart and arms aching to hold you, feeling the worst pain anyone could ever feel. I know that you were worth it all. You changed me. You changed everything about me. I have now known true love, the minute you were birthed from me. And I knew the worst, most extreme pain and sadness having to leave the hospital without you.

How am I five months and 14 days after I met you? I'm broken. I'm broken and slowly putting the pieces back together. There will always be one piece missing. You.

Stillborn - 91 days later - 3 months (I cry at restaurants)

Today we decided to get out of the house. You know, like we used to do BEFORE. Back when we were just Sonya and Tim, a married couple with no children. Carefree and could just go and enjoy.

It's different now. Everything is different now. I'm different, our house is different, Tim is different. Places I visit are split into a strange automatic question - The question says: The last time you were here were you pregnant? Was it before you were pregnant? Was it AFTER Faeryn was born? I'm not sure why this happens, but it is a constant. It's something that happens as I pull into parking lots, as I walk through doors. There is always a Before Faeryn and an After Faeryn. The hurtles are the ones where the last time I was there, and everything was okay. Those are my toughest ones. And then they turn into, Last time I was here was after she died. And that's how it will always stay.

We went out to eat tonight. Dinner and a movie at Tim's suggestion. This is something he loves, and I just like to get the hell away from my depressing house, so I'm game for anything.

We went to Outback. We've never been to this one. We bought movie tickets online with reserved seating and knew we had to be done eating by 7:00.
We were seated in the children's section.
No. That doesn't really exist, but if it did, that's where we were sat. Surrounded by toddlers and their parents. The past few days haven't really been AWFUL for me. I have days that I spend all day attempting not to cry, so I know what awful is. The past few days have been mediocre. I have cried. Once a day. And at this current time - 3 months into After Faeryn. I think that's pretty darn good. And by pretty darn good, I mean I could almost say I've been happy.

So we are sat and I look over and diagonal to my line of sight is a little girl. I would guess she's about 2. She has blond hair and blue eyes. She is very inquisitive and is waving and blowing kisses to her grandmother sitting across from her. I look at her mom, and she is blond, average to pretty. I look at the little girls dad, he is average to handsome and wears glasses. The little girl is standing between them smiling. You could feel the love the parents have for their child. They were smiling and paying attention to her. Including her into their discussions.
There were other kids surrounding us. Little boys and other little girls, but THIS ONE kept drawing me back to her. I saw the life in her little face. The life in her blue eyes. The tiny chubby hand as she blew kisses to her grandma.
She reminded me of Faeryn. Or should I say what my mind would make Faeryn look like at 2 years old. It also reminded me that I will never actually know the light in my little girls eyes, the smile on her face, I will never see her tiny chubby hand wave.

Faeryn had the cutest little hands. Perfectly formed little rosebud nails. She had momma's hands. She was so cold though, and I never felt them move or hold on.
Maybe all of this is why tears started falling. It was one of those moments that you almost panic. I would have gotten up and went to the bathroom, but I didn't know where that was - and to find out I would have either had to wander around the restaurant in tears or ask a server, while crying, where the restroom was.
So I attempted to just make myself stop. Stop looking and STOP CRYING. It didn't work. It was one of those times when crying just has to happen. It was one of those times when, even as I sat there and asked Tim to talk to me about ANYTHING, the tears still fell. One after another, after another. I had to look to the wall on my left and try to get it together. Think about something else - stop thinking about the fantasy Faeryn, stop thinking about her being gone, dead. Forever.

I had ordered a glass of wine with dinner and prayed that it would soon make its way over to our table. I don't drink. But I was looking forward to escaping some of the thoughts that were way too loud in my head at dinner. I've been attempting to fill my void. I've been filling it with unhealthy foods mostly. I am completely aware of this. I am also completely aware that this will not help any of the goals I would like to achieve. One being losing the pregnancy weight so that I can fit back into my clothes again. Another would be to feel better about myself. But late at night. When I'm alone and Tim is sleeping, that void opens up and the sadness is sitting there threatening to overwhelm me. Chocolate or desserts help for the moment. They press the sadness back down for the night, but that's always followed by the self-loathing and feeling of loss of control the next morning.

So this is where I am in my journey 91 days into the death of my daughter. Overeating. Staring at live children, wondering if their parents KNOW the pain that some of us feel. Crying in restaurants. Hating the way I look in the mirror. Not fitting into my clothes. Missing my little girl. Touching her urn at night, feeling the cold marble. Wishing she was here.

There are also days that I have laughed, and laughed hard. There was also a day that I think I had a panic reaction out of no where at work. There are good days and bad days - they come as they want whether I'm ready for them or not.

91 days in - I never thought I would make it this far. I couldn't see that far into the future 91 days ago. Everything stable ended then. It was survival mode, and I couldn't see the point of planning for my future as my future was ripped from my grasp in an instant. So unexpected. So very fast.

I have planned an escape for Tim and I. So I think that is a step forward too. We are going to Sanibel Island in August. I am attempting to plan again. We shall see if we make it. I sure hope so. I miss being naive. I miss expecting things to work out. But this is the new me. This is my new normal. I learn more every day.

The Second Trimester

I need to write about the second trimester. That's when I first felt you move and you became more to me than a prison sentence for 18 years.
Early in the second trimester is when I remember feeling claustrophobic with you in my belly. Later in the second trimester is also when I started falling in love with you.
For some reason it was so easy to write about BEFORE I knew you.
It was also easier to talk about AFTER you were gone.
This part of the story is tough. It brings me back to a time when I didn't appreciate who you were and were going to be. It brings me back to the naivety believing everything was going to be okay.

The second trimester.

I remember the first time you moved. I was sitting on the couch in my spot, your Daddy was next to me. We had just finished dinner and were watching Netflix.
I felt you move. It was a tiny swish in the bottom right part of my belly. My breath caught and I gasped and jumped. Your Daddy looked over to see if everything was alright. I told him that I thought you moved. You didn't have a name at this point, but we knew, from testing, that you were a little girl. I then started second guessing the feeling. I looked it up on my phone - What does it feel like when baby moves... Some say little bubbles. Or fishes swimming. To me, you always felt like a muscle spasm, but deep in my belly. It was like a muscle spasm because it was uncontrollable and you always moved more than just once. No one described it as a muscle spasm, so I thought I had imagined it.
Looking back now. That WAS your first movement. I remember.

We had many tests and many ultrasounds during the second trimester and you and I always passed with flying colors.
No diabetes.
No genetic defects.
Strong heartbeats.
Strong movements.

I started having my panic attacks again in the second trimester too. Who knows why. Looking back, it was probably the incessant worry of if we could afford you. Where you would go to school. Who would watch you as an infant. What stranger would I trust with your life? I was living way in the future. Pretty ridiculous sitting here "in the future" now and looking back at the past. Who knew I wouldn't need to worry about any of these things?

When this picture was taken of you, I didn't know that I would never get to meet you and look into your eyes.

This is when I fell head over heels in love with you. I looked at your little nose, your big ol' belly, those beautiful little lips and just fell in love. 

I didn't fight the fear of loving you. I really believe now that IS what I was doing before seeing you in this sonogram. You weren't real to me. You weren't a little human in my belly. I couldn't see you as a person - you were just a little "thing". 

Not anymore. I loved you, and knew I had to protect you. I was still afraid of all the fears written above, but my maternal instinct was SLIGHTLY kicking in. Just slightly. I knew you were going to be beautiful. I knew you were going to be smart. I knew you were ALIVE. You were. You were alive. I was so worried about me back then. Worried that I wouldn't be able to live through my panic attacks. Worried that I wouldn't be able to drive to work. It was beginning. The agoraphobia. I fought hard to not get on medication. I finally gave in towards the 3rd trimester. I got on the lowest dose possible - I still feel guilty about that choice. If only I could have been stronger for you, would you have lived? 

The second trimester. 

This is when we named you. This is when Mommy FINALLY gave in and admitted to loving you (although I did all along). Did you know your Daddy loved you outright from the start? He was so excited from the first positive test. He would have been your favorite, baby girl. You were definitely his favorite. 

The second trimester was pretty uneventful. Everything was so normal. Everything was so taken for granted. Everything was pretty darn easy, looking back. 

Life was getting ready to get pretty fucking unfair in a few months after this sonogram. Cruel and unfair. I would also get to see the limits of my strength soon. I would also get to see you.

I will need to mentally prepare before hitting the next trimester. The third. When my world turned upside down. 

I miss you times a million

Momma is sitting here trying to think of anything else other than your beautiful face. I can see it so clearly and I don't know who you looked like more. You were only 34 weeks old but yet a person all your own.
I saw you in my mind. Flashes last night as I tried to go to sleep. I don't mean to block you out baby girl, but it just makes me so damn sad. I've never felt this sad in my entire life. I didn't know this sadness was something I could live through. Sometimes it doesn't feel like I can, but somehow I wake up the next day. Alive.
I'm here trying to concentrate on anything else. Facebook, reality shows, drawing, searching amazon. Nothing is keeping my attention. My mind keeps seeing you.  And I cry.
I've cried so much tonight I can't breathe.

I've made plans with your daddy to go to a movie tomorrow night. The last time we were there I was pregnant with you. I remember being afraid that the volume of the movie would scare you in my belly. I was having anxiety attacks pretty much daily at that point, but just trying to work through them. I hope none of that hurt you. Sometimes I wonder if I somehow killed you. Did you feel my stress and worry? We will never know why you left us. What made you die. I hope it wasn't me baby girl.

Everywhere we go now, I question if I would be doing this same thing if you were physically here with us. I know I wouldn't be going to a movie tomorrow. I know for a fact I would be spending every waking moment with you, staring at you, watching you breathe, and loving every moment.

I drew a picture for you my Faeryn Willow. One of many since you've been gone. You are my star. You are the most important thing in my universe. You are up there surrounded by others, yet the only one that matters to me.

I love you more than there are stars in the night sky my baby.

Momma

Stillborn - 57 days - One month, 3 weeks and 6 days (I can see her in my mind)

She had a little frog butt.

Tim has the cutest butt. I call it his little frog butt. I always pinch it and smack it when I walk by him. It's just that cute. My little girl had that same little butt. I can remember her little perfect body in every detail. I've been able to picture every little detail for 2 days now, and it won't stop. 

Perhaps some people would think that remembering every detail of your precious daughter is a great thing, maybe one day I will look back and wish I could remember every detail, but for this moment, right now, it hurts me. You know that weight that presses down on your chest? Right above your heart when you feel the heart break? That weight feels like it's around 35 pounds. It's hard for me to breathe.
We have a tropical storm (Colin) coming through Florida today, so we were sent home an hour and a half early. I used that time to do yoga to try to relieve the pressure and pain on my heart. To try to be IN THE MOMENT. To BE HERE NOW. Stop the visions of her perfect little chubby hands that were identical to mine. Stop the visions of her big feet, so much like her Daddy's. Stop seeing the little tummy that was so perfect in it's roundness. The little tummy and chest that never took a breath.  The shape of her tiny little newborn-sized back was so very perfect. Her little shoulder blades, the curve of her neck. I can see it all. And that perfect little frog butt.
I remember when I was pregnant I talked to Tim and told him that one thing I hoped for is that she would have a tiny little frog butt like him. Guess what? She had it.
I probably should have been hoping for a child that would live. Maybe that could have made a difference.

I'm so good I can almost fool myself

Ahh. My neighbors.
I live in town homes. We've lived here for 8 years now. We were the quiet couple with cats, that would say hello to our neighbors, but that never bothered anyone or got in anyone's business.
I remember the day that Tim told the young couple two doors down that we were expecting - I was three months along at that point. They were so excited, as the wife (who I will call T) was very pregnant at the time and due in January 2016 with their second child, a little girl. Every time we would see them outside we would wave, and we would ask each other how we were doing etc. Tim and T's husband (Who I will call J) now had something in common, more than just their unruly beards.

There is also a Mom and her daughter that live right next door to us. I caught the Mom staring at my belly one day, doing that sly little glance. I was imagining that she was wondering why I looked like I drank a 6 pack a day as that's what my pregnant belly looked like, a beer belly. I rubbed my belly and said that we were expecting. I was 6 months along at that point. The Mom and daughter were SO happy for us. They gave me a big hug. Every time I would see them out, they would say "Hi Momma! How are you??". We would talk for a few minutes, exchange pleasantries and we would all go in our homes.

This all went on for months - well, up until week 34.

As there was no notice of losing Faeryn... it all happened so fast and unexpected, we hadn't seen the neighbors from April 8th until I was released from the hospital on April 11th. An unfortunate part of being pregnant, delivering your child and not being able to bring her home with you, is you still LOOK pregnant and you have no baby.

So as we got out of our car, J was walking the dog past us. All excited (as per our normal conversations, and he wouldn't know to act otherwise) he asks "You have that baby yet? You guys getting excited?". I look over at Tim, he looks at me and I shake my head no. I told him that "we gave birth to Faeryn yesterday". I will never forget the look of horror on his face. He apologized profusely saying that he shouldn't have asked us, he's so sorry, he can't believe he said something, can't believe he asked. He starts stumbling over his words as he's reaching for his town home door to disappear as quickly as he can. I tell him he couldn't have known, please don't feel bad for asking, we are okay (though we aren't), just trying to relieve his mortification.
I don't want to be seen as "those people" either. The "people with the dead baby". The "people that cry all the time". The "haunted couple". The "pitiful people in Unit F". I could go on and on...

I had the misfortune of sitting out front, smoking a cigarette (yeah I started smoking again, full out chain smoking maniac, just to get through the first few months of this madness), and waiting on my therapist to come by for our appointment. T and J pull up in the truck. I haven't seen any of them since the day mentioned above. T has had her baby, and she's around 3 months old at this point. I start looking down, scanning the grass, look over at my car, and then I notice that maybe I'm being weird, so I look over at them, try to act "normal" and wave or something. J has the baby in a carseat and is now at the door to their home and I see T crawl out of the front seat (her back is facing me) and she stares over at her husband with a completely panicked face - Wide eyes, mouth set in a line. I can almost read her mind with her body language. It says Holy Shit - what do I do??? Do I get my 4 year old out of the car? I can't keep her in there, but SHE is outside. HER, the lady who's baby died. T goes to the backseat and gets the 4 year old out and walks her to the door. I'm now full on staring, as it's SUPER weird, but I want to show how "okay" I am. That I will still speak, I won't cry from seeing a child or baby. I'm not "THAT person" some weirdo that holds fake baby dolls and acts like they are really her baby. Or the lady you hear on the news that has stolen someone's baby/child because she wants a child so bad. I'm DEFINITELY not THAT lady. I would love to have Faeryn, but not some random child, no thanks.
So I speak to the side of T's head (as she is NOT going to look over) and I say "Hi" while waving to their little girl. T stares straight ahead towards their home and says "Oh, she just woke up, she's grouchy". I say "aww, that's okay". They go in.

A few days later I'm finishing up watering the plants and rolling my hose back up. I hear a noise and look to my right. It's J coming out of his house with the dog. I do that weird, smile/grin and look away. Fuck, lets not make everyone uncomfortable, so I stare down at the hose, like this is taking all my attention. He walks the dog behind me and asks quietly "So, how are you doing?". I was actually having a rare, okay day and I stop diddling with the hose, stand up and talk. I tell him that I'm doing okay. I also tell him, with a smile, "Look, I don't want to make you all feel uncomfortable. Like we are crazy people sitting in our house crying all the time. I'm not one of those people that wants to steal babies or anything like that". He has a surprised look on his face and laughs, like he can't believe I've said such a thing. He asks if we are going to try again, to have another baby. I tell him that it was really strange. The night that Faeryn was born, Tim and I discussed that. We knew as soon as she was born, that we were meant to be parents. That we KNEW instantly the amount of love we had to give a child, and that one day we would like to be given that chance. He said that he and T were talking about our situation. And that T stated that if this ever happened to her, that there is no way they would ever have another child. She wouldn't be able to handle it. I nodded in agreement and said I could definitely understand that feeling. As this is the craziest, most awful shit to go through ever. Ever. EVER.

I was hoping after this conversation that it would be better. Maybe we could all go back to normal. That it wouldn't have an awkward vibe if we were all outside at the same time. Unfortunately, T hasn't been the same. She has crab-walked from the car to her house. By that I mean walking sideways with her back facing me and the car seat in front of her. I was confused if she was shielding ME from the baby or shielding the baby from ME. Like I had the plague and if I coughed too close they might catch it. She hasn't spoke to me since I've been home.

This morning I was locking up the house and heard my immediate neighbors (the Mom and her daughter) coming out too. They haven't been AS weird to me as T has, but I can tell they don't really know how to act around me. So I turned around as they were staring down, trying to unlock their car, in a hurry. I said "Goooood Morning!" I shocked myself with the sound of my good morning. It sounded SO normal. SO okay. And you know what? I wasn't okay today. I was really, really sad. I have those days most days now. But I keep trucking. I keep going. I still get up and go to work, I cry in my car before work and some days at lunch. But you know what? I have gotten really, really good at faking it.

I'm so good I can almost fool myself.

*Photo courtesy of Algrim Whitefang

Time travel and Stillbirth - How I wish one existed and one didn't

I have some crazy thoughts that come into my head (pretty often now-a-days). Last night I was asking myself where I would go back to in time to feel what I felt at that moment. I wouldn't even want to change anything - I wouldn't ask for THAT much. Just go back to an exact moment, that's all I want.

I would go back to 4/06/16. Why, you ask? Why not earlier? Let me explain...
I had a Doctor's appointment with the specialist on 4/05/16. I heard Faeryn's strong heartbeat, had my (oh, so naive) questions answered. And had no idea that stillbirth was something that happened.
April 6th was such a normal day. So, so normal. I went to work, felt Faeryn kick all day. Talked to her. Sang to her in the shower. She was moving just like she always did right after dinner. Tim talked to her that night, kissed my tummy, told her he loved her. Everything was okay in my world that Wednesday. Everything was so normal. What I would give to be back in that moment and pause time. Just live there a little bit longer, feel what my life felt like right then... really live in that moment.

I then daydreamed about where I would take Tim to and freeze time. I know exactly where I would take him back to. It would be 4/08/16. His last day at his old job was 4/07/16, Thursday. All of his friends at work were throwing him a baby shower/goodbye party on 4/08, Friday. He went back at 4:30 for the baby shower. They decorated for him, bought a large sheet cake that said "Welcome Baby Faeryn" with bright pink icing and beautiful white decorations. They bought balloons saying Baby Girl and balloons in all colors. They shared in Tim's happiness, they showed him love, they welcomed his baby girl, his first child - my first child. He took pictures on our camera. Pictures showing everyone laughing, smiling. They "showered" Tim with gifts for Faeryn. His friends helped re-wrap everything so that when he came home with the gifts that Friday night he could watch me open them and see me surprised at everything that was given to us. Our living room was filled with gifts, and balloons. Unfortunately Tim never got to see me open anything, that moment was taken from us. So, I would take him back to BEFORE 5:30pm on 4/08 - definitely before then. Before his happiness was shattered. I would let him live in that moment, bask in the glory of being a dad-to-be. Let him stay in that safe, sweet, loving place just a little bit longer.

Here's the reality. Reality sucks, but here it is.

On Thursday, 4/07/16, sometime around 5:30pm I started questioning when the last time I felt Faeryn move. I hadn't really felt Faeryn move in a while. I couldn't really remember when she last moved - I know FOR SURE she was moving Wednesday after dinner. I thought she moved Thursday morning - it was almost becoming second nature feeling movements in my belly, so it wasn't something that I so much paid attention to. (That really hurt to type that truth, makes me feel so shitty).
I had mentioned to Tim that I hadn't felt her move; I shared this with him when we got into bed Thursday night. I made him try to listen to her heartbeat through my tummy with a toilet paper roll. This was our first attempt ever at him trying to listen to my belly, so we didn't know what he should be hearing or not hearing for that matter. I know that I had a bad gut-instinct that something just wasn't right. Now - let me go ahead and say that I do have panic disorder, so anxiety and getting into a tizzy is something that comes quite naturally to me - Tim is used to this and also used to talking me down. He talked me down that night. Said everything was fine.
Friday morning - 4/08/16. I got up, got dressed, woke Tim up with a kiss goodbye and went to work. Faeryn would sometimes get moving by around 7:30, but she would really move around 10:00am. It was 7:50 when I got into my office. I remember I was the only one in there. I got on all fours, like a cat pose. I shook my belly while in that stance. I talked to her. I said "Come on baby girl, move for mommy. Mommy is starting to panic. You need to move for me. Okay baby girl?"
I got back up sat in my chair, turned on my computer and felt a wave of panic. Placed my hands on my belly and willed her to move. I thought I felt a little twinge down by my cervix. Faeryn always loved to kick or dance on my cervix. It would almost take my breath away sometimes. This was just a tiny, tiny twinge. But to me it was hope. Was that her? I bet it was her.
About 8:30am I felt a roll (for lack of a better term at the time). It was a roll high up in my belly. I went and asked the girls up front if I felt the baby roll is that counted as a kick? They told me yes, and I said "Yea! I've been so nervous all morning. She hasn't really moved for me." I stopped in to my director's office and told her that I was panicking earlier about not feeling the baby move, but now she moved and I felt better. She had a baby 3 months before me, so she got quite nervous. She said that if I haven't felt the baby move I need to call in and talk to my doctor just to be safe.
So - to be safe, I called my Doctor's office. I felt like one of those overly-anxious mother's to be. I was put through to the triage nurse's voicemail. She called me back around 2 hours later. I talked to her and she said to go at lunch and get something warm to eat, a sugary drink, turn off all the lights, no TV, no radio and count 10 kicks in one hour. I didn't know that their office closed early on Fridays.
I went to lunch late, got a coke from McDonalds and drank it. Went and listened to the birds sing at the park and counted kicks. Nothing. No kicks. But I kept telling myself, it was okay. (Fuck, this is getting harder and harder to type). I got back to work, called the Doctor's office and they had closed. I left a voicemail on the triage nurses number. I told her that I hadn't felt any kicks, but that I hoped everything was okay. I left work at 4:30, my normal time. When I stepped outside a voicemail went through to my cell. It was the nurse. She had called and left a message. I wasn't getting it until now. She said she talked to my doctor and "she hoped everything was okay, but if I didn't feel the kicks, Dr. L says to go to triage". I drove home. I didn't know what triage was, and I didn't want to call Tim as he was in the middle of his baby shower. I went home to wait on Tim, I looked up "triage". I called "Baby Place". This was the hospital I was scheduled to deliver at on May 23rd. This was the hospital we were scheduled to tour on Saturday 4/09/16 at 11:00am. THE NEXT DAY.
They said to come in to their maternity triage since I am registered there. They would check me out and make sure everything was okay. I waited. I waited. I waited. I waited for Tim to get home, knowing something was off. Something was wrong. I didn't want to scare him, I didn't want to say the words to him. But I did.
He got home around 5:30pm. He was smiling. He brought all the gifts and the balloons in. Stacked them in the living room. Filled the living room. I said the words. "Hey, remember how I was worried last night about Faeryn? I called the doctor and she said to go to Baby Place if I didn't get Faeryn to move". His face fell. I watched it happen. I quickly added, "It's JUST so that we can be safe, rather than sorry - we will go, hear her heartbeat, and come home and open the gifts."

That never happened.

So there are two moments I would take us back to. One for me. One for Tim. I long to feel that normalcy before I knew that a healthy baby's heart could just stop beating. Before I knew that stillbirth still happened. I want to be naive again. Just for a moment.

Stillborn - 34 days later - One month and 3 days (Death Certificate)

Today I received her Death Certificate in the mail.
Just the thought of it makes a rock hard lump in my throat and my stomach twist into a knot. I have been working on "not feeling guilty" for the death of my child. That's a tough one to get through. I notice this guilt is always preceded by "should have".

I should have noticed she wasn't moving as much.

I should have went to the hospital sooner.

I should have known.

I received the autopsy results at my last OB appointment on 5/10/16. I asked the questions on my list to the doctor. She went over the fact that Faeryn DID have a normal 3 vessel cord. That the specialist was incorrect. It wasn't a two vessel cord (Single Umbilical Artery), as the specialist had stated on our appointment on 3/29/16. Oh, 3/29/16, that dreaded day when our world first tilted at a slant. Everything was so perfect until 32 weeks along.
I scanned through the autopsy report when I got home from my OB appointment. There was no cause of death stated. Just a bunch of measurements and descriptions on how much my little girls organs weighed, how her skin looked the day after her birth, you know, all the things that no parent "should" have to read about their child. I haven't looked at it since. I've thought about it, but what's it going to solve?
I received a letter addressed from the Funeral Home today. I wasn't sure what was in it. I was thinking maybe a letter or something. Who knew it would be the Death Certificate? Makes sense now, but I wasn't expecting it. To see the official State of Florida Bureau of Vital Statistics information when I opened the envelope, on my little girl, almost made me throw up. Instead of puking, I cried.

I've been trying to come up with what I'm thankful for each day. What I am grateful for. I was asked this from my therapist on our last visit. At that moment my answer was NOTHING. Yes, I was having a fit of pure grief. At the beginning of that therapy session on 5/11/16 I found out that my therapist has taken a wonderful position as a director for a rehabilitation center. A very prestigious job, and of course not one that she could pass up. I've been seeing her since my Mother's death in 2014. I was making such progress. I had not had a panic attack until I found out I was pregnant, she got me through that and then we were working on the death of my child, just over a month ago.

She asked me how the news of her new job, and our termination of therapy made me feel. I cried and said it's another loss. I was angry. I don't know at what exactly. I felt like I was being thrown for yet another loop. I need her.
I'm a overly independent person, I never ask for help. I would rather not impose myself on people. We've been working on that for 2 years, my fear of rejection when asking for help. She is someone that I've come to trust. She is someone that I respect and seek guidance from. She is someone that I need. She is soon to be gone as well.

I will continue to survive. I have never cried so many tears in my entire life. I've lived 37 years of my life without a child, but now I question how I will live the rest of my life without her, my Faeryn Willow. My heart is heavy tonight. It is an actual physical pain. There is a tightness in my chest, an ache. Heartache.

I'm setting up her room tonight. We had just put her crib together the weekend before we found out she died. I was clearing off the shelf and preparing to take that down to fit her crib on that wall. It was all left in disarray and hasn't been touched since she passed away in my belly. Tonight, I'm finishing clearing off the shelves; dusting them. I have cleared off everything that doesn't have meaning. This will be her shelf now. She received some stuffed animal gifts from family and friends before her death. Those are up there. I have a Dr. Seuss book that was mine as a child, it even has my name scrawled in it from my youth. I was going to read that to her. I remember finding that book during my pregnancy and thinking how fun that would be to share with her. Bed time stories with my girl. That book is on her shelf now. A special shelf for my special angel.

So, what am I thankful for tonight... I am thankful for the little girl I had to say goodbye to before I even said hello. She changed my life and my whole being. She changed ME. Completely. She showed me how much I LOVE her by how much I GRIEVE for her. I love her and grieve for her with every inch of my body and soul; every fiber of my being. She taught me true love. I have loved before, but not like this. I felt true love as soon as I birthed her. Instantly- right that moment. I loved her so much that I would do it all over again. Every. Single. Thing. Again. Her life, and her death; I would do it ALL over again, even knowing I couldn't change a thing.

I would live this pain again, just to know her as I know her.

That is true love.

Stillborn - 30 days later - 4 weeks and 1 day (She is everywhere)

She is everywhere.

Yesterday was Mother's Day. It was a pretty rough day to say the least.
Today was worse.
I woke up singing the song that Tim has stated he wants played at his funeral one day. Since Faeryn passed away, Tim now plays that song daily for himself. Every morning in the car on his way to work. The song is by Michael Jackson, "You Are Not Alone". He says he believes that is her song to him.
So that's what I woke up singing this morning. Needless to say it depresses me. Maybe he finds inspiration in it, but me, makes me cry. I get up, put on my robe, pick out clothes to wear to work, walk past the "Baby Girl" balloon from 4/08/16, the day of Faeryn's baby shower, the day we found out she had no heart beat.
The balloon is somehow still inflated. It's a little crinkly but it still floats near the fireplace mantle and moves around when we stir enough air as we walk past.

She is everywhere.

I get dressed, straighten my hair and put on the necklace I wear daily. There are 9 charms on it. It was given to me by someone I've never met in person, but someone that is dear to my heart now. Tim's best friend, Paul - his mother. She was at the baby shower that Tim's work threw for him. The one that the balloon came from. She made me this necklace. It has a picture of Faeryn that she encased in a heart. On that picture it says "Our Heart, Our Faeryn". There is a moon and star charm attached to an emerald, a topaz and a pearl; the birthday gemstones for Faeryn's due date, me and Tim. There is a "F" charm, and an "S" charm. A charm that represents the night sky- purple and diamonds. A sparkly purple charm (the color of the nursery). A diamond charm for Faeryn's actual day of her birth (April 10th), a heart that says "Love" and an angel's wing.

She is everywhere.
 
I go to work this morning and Johnny Cash's "Folsom Prison Blues" is on the radio. I'm instantly reminded of the day that Faeryn was in my tummy and I imagined she was dancing to this song a few months ago. I tried to record her moving. I still have the recording on my phone. All you can see is me breathing. But I know what was happening in that video. She was moving so much that morning. I laughed and thought, "this little girl loves her some Johnny Cash", and couldn't wait until the day she was born and I could play it for her, see her reaction. I remembered this like it was yesterday.

She is everywhere.

I get to work, go to put my purse away in my drawer and I see the Sriracha Peas that I would eat every day during my pregnancy. I loved them, craved them. We at work made jokes about me eating those peas every day. They are in little individual packets. I haven't ate them since we lost her.

She is everywhere.

A friend of mine Kathy, at work, came over to check on me today. See how I was doing. I was holding it together, but I knew since this morning that it would be a rough day. I expected to have to excuse myself at least once today. She mentioned that my boss Cheryl, who has a 5 month old and who has become an amazing ally and friend to me said that she wanted to text me on Mother's Day. Cheryl didn't know where I was at emotionally that day. So she didn't. Instead Cheryl, my friend, cried all morning for me on Mother's Day. Kathy said it was probably because Cheryl had her own hopes and dreams as our daughters would be 5 months apart when Faeryn was due, they would have been best friends we always said. Cheryl was mourning the loss too. For me.

She is everywhere.

I showed Kathy the picture I drew/painted of Faeryn. She hasn't seen any pictures of Faeryn. Any of our "Fetal Demise Photography". Our memories. I showed her my drawing and explained that its not "right". I have a picture in my head and I have the photographs but I can't get it right on paper. I then ask her if she wants to see a picture. A picture of my baby girl. I start to cry. She has a straight face and says yes. Through my tears I find the picture I have of her on my phone. A photograph. I show her and turn away. I don't watch her face, I let her zoom in and she now see's the little one that was growing in my tummy all 8 months. The one who's heartbeat she heard with me at my Doctor's appointment 3 days before she died. Such a strong heartbeat that day. I think it makes it so much more real when people see Faeryn. She no longer is a thought, or a thing that happened. She's real.

She is everywhere.

I turned back and Kathy was crying. Last time I saw her cry is when I came in to work and told her I was pregnant back in September. I heard her cry and yell and question WHY when I called her from Maternity Triage to tell her I lost Faeryn. But I saw her cry today. She also kissed Faeryn's picture on my phone. Just like I do. I touch the picture as if I'm touching Faeryn. As that's as close as I will ever get.

She is everywhere,
and yet
She is not here.
 
 

Stillborn - 20 days later - 2 weeks and 6 days (Baby Shower)

Today was the day of my baby shower. Or should I say IS the day of my baby shower. Although it was cancelled. Cancelled because I gave birth to my baby girl, born still, on April 10th at 1:26pm. I was 34 weeks along that Sunday when she was born.

My life right now: I'm so very sad. My heart is so heavy. It's the first "anniversary" I've come across since she was born. I try not to look to the future at the other "anniversaries" that are coming up. Though I think that I need to prepare for those dates.

How I view my grief:
It's like large waves. I see some of the swells coming, and some are like rogue waves that come up from behind and truly take me by surprise. I'm barely floating. My eyes, nose and mouth are the only thing above water at the moment. When these swells come I'm under water, I choke, can feel the water in my lungs and somehow I come back up, cough the water out and its the same - my eyes, nose and mouth are back floating right above the water line. Treading. 

I've been dreading this date since coming out of shock of losing my child. I would say I came out of that shock on April 23rd, 2016. Last Saturday. That was the day I remember feeling the overwhelming sadness of all that I had endured. That was the day that I remember saying to my husband that I feel okay with dying. I've always had a fascination with death, but a fear of death as well - fear of loved ones dying, fear of my own death and how I would go. That Saturday I felt okay with it. I still feel this today. I would not help this process along so I wouldn't categorize myself as suicidal. I'm spiritual, but don't have any religious beliefs that I can follow, such as knowing when I die that I'm going to see my beautiful girl again. I wish I had that belief. I wish I knew that with that gut instinct that others talk about, knowing there's a Heaven, knowing she's there and I will see her again, that I would see her take a breath, see her smile, hear her laugh or hear her voice. I've missed out on all those things that others take for granted. 
So today would have been such a happy day. There were friends and family coming down here to celebrate my Faeryn Willow, still in my Tummy. She would have been  3 weeks and 2 days from her official due date today. There would have been belly rubs and laughter and smiles. Gifts and such appreciation. Appreciation of the people in my life, the thoughtfulness of them just showing up for such a surprise milestone in my life. I would have had my husband and Dad help unload the gifts from the car when I got home. Her nursery would be full. I would definitely be nesting, getting everything just right. I would have started packing my hospital bag with the receiving blankets and at least one cute little newborn outfit. I would be searching online for what you "really need" in your hospital bag. My husband would rub my belly, talk to our girl and give my belly a kiss like he always did. I would rub my belly and tell her that I love her. 
Instead I type these words with a lump in my throat and pain in my heart, heaviness on my chest. I took so much for granted when I look back. I thought everything would be okay. I never expected to be feeling so alone with an aching emptiness in my arms for her, my baby. Only her. No one else can fill that void. I've tried. It's her I need in my arms. Right now. It hurts.

The First Trimester

The stress of telling friends, family and my workplace that I'm now pregnant. This is how I remember the first trimester.
My Mom passed away on April 23rd, 2014. She was sick for so long (7 years) with Frontotemporal Dementia, also known as FTD. She had the semantic variant with Primary Progressive Aphasia. So, I hadn't heard her voice or a sentence for years before she passed away. I really miss my Mom's voice.
Anyway, I remember thinking that SHE would be the one person that would be ecstatic to hear of my pregnancy. She loved babies.
My Mom and Dad's marriage was the romantic love story that you always hear about. They met, fell deeply in love, and he took care of her in their home until she could no longer swallow on her own and passed away.
I remember being so afraid to tell my Dad I was pregnant. I'm not sure why exactly. I mean, I was 37 years old and had been married for 8 years. I think it might be the fact that I'm a "planner". I like to plan all things in my life. He's the same way. The fact that this was unplanned was a bit of a shock. My husband and I weren't using protection for 8 years, but I figured that since it hadn't happened yet, that my eggs must be ancient, old and shriveled up so it just wasn't "meant to be". Oh... how I loved to use that phrase all the time back then.
My best friend was so excited, she was 38 and had just had a little boy. By the time I was due (May 23rd, 2016) they would be one year apart. I think she at that point was imagining our children either being best friends (if it was a boy) or married one day (if it was a girl). I asked her so many questions - she was definitely my go-to person on all pregnancy symptoms in the beginning.
I experienced night sickness. I HATE throwing up, puking, vomiting - whatever you would like to call it. I'm one of those people that would rather be nauseous then throw up and get it over with.
I never once puked. But every night I would feel right on the verge throughout the first trimester.
I bought the book "What to expect when your expecting", I bought ginger candies, I bought gummy prenatal vitamins. I quit taking my allergy nose spray and inspected my new pregnancy app for all medications to see how they were categorized. I felt like I was being pretty responsible. Trying to take this all in stride. I had an OB recommended to me through my General Practitioner, whom she went to. I made an appointment at 9 weeks and 1 day and we got to see what everything looked like in there, in my belly. Tim, my husband was so excited to go to the ultrasound appointment. I remember that clearly.
Here's what we saw:

This was when things changed for me.
Seeing that little tiny bean in there with that big old head and tiny little foot sticking out.
I remember thinking "Wow... there's a little alien being in there!"
Of course I couldn't feel any movements until the 2nd trimester, so I spent the first trimester feeling a little claustrophobic.
I remember one night I got freaked out that I'm having to change my WHOLE LIFE for this baby. You have no idea how this thought haunts me now. There were so many thoughts that now haunt me. I have a whole slew of "Should have's" that I now live with daily. If I could only go back in time... there's so much I would change. And it would all be with me, how I think, and I would have given more love to this little alien being in my belly. I would have cherished every moment.

How it all began

Before...
I asked my husband about 2 years ago - Are you happy with our life? Just us, our cats (we have 4) and no children? I was getting ready to turn 37 and he had just turned 42. He replied "yes". Seemed sincere. Made me feel okay. I wanted to make sure that he was as okay as I was with not having children. I've never been the maternal type. Ever. When we would go to restaurants and were sat next to a family with a child under 8 years old I would normally sigh internally and hope that they wouldn't be loud and obnoxious. If they were under 2 years old I would quickly judge how closely the parents were monitoring the child, as I would not want to attempt to eat dinner next to a family that lets their child scream without addressing the situation.
It's not that I HATED children. I had two nieces whom I adore. It's just that I never had that NEED for children. The biological clock that people mentioned never chimed for me.

Fast forward to 2015. 37 years old. I started a new job in April. I loved it. Everyone was great. I got my own office! I've never had one of those before in my life, and it's HUGE. Everything is pretty darn fantastic.
September 2015: Umm... My periods have been on schedule, 28 day cycles, exact for years. My boobs were sore and I had slight cramping. I remember thinking "just start already". Went to work out, couldn't even do some machines, as the slightest touch to my chest area was crazy pain.
7 days later: Called my best friend. Told her "it's weird, my boobs are really sore, BUT I'm having cramping, BUT I'm around 7 days late." Her immediate response was "Holy Shit, you're pregnant."
8 days later: Searched through the cabinet beneath my sink. I could remember there were ancient pregnancy tests in there. I'm talking SUPER EXPIRED. Surprised there weren't cobwebs on them.
It's 2:00AM, husband is asleep. I take the test out of its foil packaging. Pee on the stick. I can remember not breathing. I stared at the window INTENTLY. The instructions said 2 or 3 minutes and the test will be complete. I remember the second line forming as soon as the "test line" formed.
Holy Fuck. My world turned upside down. I felt nauseous. I was pregnant.
I woke him up, I was crying. He had those gigantic eyeballs that people get when you wake them from a deep sleep and they are pretending they are wide awake. I was crying now. "I'm scared you're going to be mad or freaked out." I say. Who knows what he was thinking was wrong at the time, but I could tell from his face that yes, that sentence had freaked him out. "I'm PREGNANT!". I didn't say this with the elation you may be imagining. Not the type of things you see around the web or on commercials. It was said with complete and utter fear. Fear of his response. Fear of what the fuck am I gonna do??
His response was "It's okay, everything will be okay." I asked "are you freaked out? Are you scared?" He said no. And he hugged me.
I don't know how I fell asleep that night, that part is fuzzy, but I do remember having a full blown, not being able to breathe, panic attack the next morning as I was having coffee. OMG should I be having coffee? I can't even take a Klonopin! Holy Shit. I'm trapped!
My husband grabbed my hand, said to make a doctor's appointment for a real test in case that ancient test upstairs was giving us a false positive.
Thursday my doctors office is open after work hours. I go, pee in a cup. I can feel the puke feeling rising. I try to breathe through it. Doctor comes in - "Yep, you're pregnant."
I think the room diminished to the size of a peep hole. Like I was looking through a periscope. Everything was black around me but there was this tunnel vision. I kept breathing. The room came back into view. I asked "what do I do now?" She said, "Listen, I just had my first child a year ago, and I thought I didn't want children, but they are great. Motherhood changes you, as soon as you have the child, it changes." Yeah, that's what they ALL say. She's one of THEM though. The people that have children and like them. The people who's children like them back. Will my child like me? Too many thoughts, I start to feel claustrophobic and need to find an Obstetrician. I'm considered "High Risk" my general practitioner says. Great. Why? "because you are of advanced maternal age." Jesus.
I'm geriatric and pregnant.