Our Elena Bear

Yesterday I received a much anticipated package in the mail from Molly Bears.  I have been anxiously waiting for our Elena Bear to arrive.  I carefully opened the box and found our Elena Bear inside.  I picked her up and cradled her, in a bit of awe over the weight.  Just shy of a pound, a substantial weight for such a small teddy bear, yet so light.  The same weight as Elena, and very similar in length as well.  She has a white bow on her head.  It actually reminds me a little of the white bonnet Elena wore in the hospital.  It felt nice to cradle the bear in my arms and to remember cradling my sweet Elena for that brief time.  How I miss holding her! 

 

I am so grateful to have a special bear from Molly Bears.  A small comfort to feel the same weight as my sweet daughter in my arms again, a reminder of her, it somehow seems a nice way to honor her memory.  I think it will also be another concrete way to help our son talk about his little sister and to teach our rainbow, when he arrives, about his big sister in heaven.  Thank you, Molly Bears, for this personal gift.

 

 

Reassurance

After keeping a panic attack at bay for months, I finally succumbed to it this morning.  My nurse called with my glucose test results (I passed the three hour test - yea!), and I dumped on her my probably normal symptoms and my anxiety.  Yes, I had a sonogram just last week; yes, I see the high risk specialist later this week; and yes, I do want to come in TODAY to be seen.  I finally had my "anxiety appointment."

I am more than 8 weeks farther in my pregnancy than the point at which Elena was born.  I am just a few weeks away from the point at which my son entered the world (my healthy, meeting-his-milestones preschooler who does not appear any worse for the wear after his preterm birth).  I thought I would be calm after I reached viability, and I did feel a bit more relaxed for a while.  The anxiety has been creeping up on me again over the last week or so.  I finally decided that I don't care if I get the reputation of crazy, paranoid pregnant lady who is overreacting because her last baby died.  I just had the awful sense that something was not right, and I would rather be proven wrong today than to wait to see my MFM later in the week and to be told, "I am so sorry, but I can't find the heartbeat" and then live with the regret of not taking action.

I dreamed last night (when I was able to sleep - insomnia has been hanging out with me again) that I was trying to decide if I should go to the hospital to get checked since I was just feeling uneasy.  That had been the reality of my weekend - debating if I should go get a peace of mind doppler on my belly or if I just needed to relax.  In my dream I went to the bathroom and found that I was bleeding heavily.  I knew I had to go in at that point, that something was indeed wrong.  I woke up to find that I was okay, but I thought, "This is ridiculous.  I do not need to be this stressed out over the situation.  I need to go ahead and see the doctor, even if there is no logical reason, even if it is just so that I can sleep again."  Even my very logical, level-headed husband, who does not overreact in emotional situations, had no objection to me asking to be seen and agreed to meet me at the doctor to entertain our preschooler during the appointment.  I am so grateful for how supportive he is!  So I rambled every concern running through my mind to the nurse, and she invited me to come in right away.

My doctor was wonderful.  He actually told me that he was surprised I had not called earlier this pregnancy asking to be seen because I was worried.  He said there was nothing pathological in my anxiety, especially given my "horrible obstetric history."  It was nice to be reassured and not to be criticized in the least, not to be made to feel one bit bad about an extra visit (and though I was prepared for an eye roll or a lecture, neither came).  On top of that, he went above and beyond medically to make sure we had covered every base and that nothing concerning was happening.  Everything looks fine.  Apparently my vague feelings of "something just isn't right" was not "mother's intuition" but just plain fear and anxiety.  Huge sigh of relief!

I am so thankful and so blessed to still be pregnant.  I know that every day.  I am also blessed with outstanding prenatal care, and I am so grateful to have the medical team supporting me that I do.  But wow, pregnancy after loss is hard - not that I would wish it away, mind you!  It is just a huge rollercoaster.  I am praying that I can keep my emotions in check for the next couple of months, to trust that things are going fine and that I can have a "normal" pregnancy with a good outcome, that today will be my one and only "anxiety appointment."  And I am so thankful for reassurance.

The Journey in September

I am linking up again this month with The Journey at Still Standing. 

September.  (sigh)

My birthday is almost here again.  Elena's due date is in a month.  She "should" be almost one year old (and yet we celebrated her first birthday a few months ago).  I suspected she would come before her due date.  I had hoped she would be my birthday present, perhaps make the day a little happier again. 

My birthday had become bittersweet.  My Nana died on my birthday 4 years ago.  She never got to hear the news that she would be a great-grandmother.  We found out we were expecting a baby just two months later.  I wish I had told her that we were trying.  She died suddenly, unexpectedly, and I miss her so much!  I was heartbroken that she was not here to meet our son.  I wondered if she knew in heaven that we now had a child. 

When we learned that our next child was due a couple of weeks following my birthday, the anniversary of Nana's death, I wished that we could make it to that day.  It would be a special day, and it was close enough to the due date that the baby would be considered term.  When we learned the baby was a girl, I was ecstatic and knew that we would name her after Nana.  How cool would it be to share my birthday with my daughter, who was named for my Nana, who died on our birthday?  I didn't dream that Nana would be the one holding her namesake each day instead of me.  I don't wonder anymore if Nana knows that we have children.

Now my birthday is even more bitter and less sweet.  Not only do I miss my Nana, but I miss my daughter.  My birthday is a reminder of lost dreams and broken hearts, of unfulfilled wishes and unspoken pain.  And then Elena's due date, beginning of October, the same day as my brother's birthday.  Another sweet day soured by death.  Oh how the numbers on the calendar sting my heart!

Elena, Sweet Princess, I love you dearly and miss you daily.  Hug Nana for me. 

Nana, I love you and so wish you hadn't left so soon.  Please take care of my baby girl until I join you both.