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.

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 - 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.