The next week was the first week for Alex and I to be alone, and we did things to try to be "normal". We went and looked at a new tree for the backyard (which that decision still hasn't been made), we went to see a movie, we went grocery shopping... Just trying to restore the daily routine back in little chunks.
If you've ever gone and shopped for a tree, you'll know that they have all different varieties and stages of growth plopped out in the middle of nowhere (usually) in buckets for your to pick out what radius of trunk you want. It was during this trip that we got the inevitable first question of "Do you have kids?" Here I was, sitting in the front of a 4-wheeler with Alex behind me in the seat and my c-section scar giving me pains because we had been bumping along the dirt paths to look at trees, and I was shocked how easily the "Not yet" response rolled off my tongue. I was use to giving that response a year ago when I was working and we hadn't gotten pregnant yet, but now? After everything we had been through? I was a little disgusted with my answer. But at the same time, I didn't really want to go into our story with Lloyd the tree guy who was only asking to help us figure out if we needed a good climbing tree or not. I felt like I had betrayed Kaitlyn by brushing her off so easily.
When we got in the car to leave, I confessed to Alex how much I really didn't like my answer. He just held my hand and told me that it was okay to answer like that with people we didn't want to talk to about it. I thought that afternoon about what my response should be from here on out, and I kind of like "Just one in Heaven," but Alex said that would pretty much damper the mood in any room because it lends to the follow up question "What happened?" and off we go into the story telling. I don't know how to respond to the question. I spend 9 months of my life caring for a child that would never take her first breath. I know what it means to put a child's life above your own, but at the same time I hesitate to call myself a "mother." I never scolded my child for getting into the kitchen pantry or even changed a diaper. But I felt that sweet girl kick and squirm and rub her incredibly stubborn noggin on my rib cage. I sang to her in the car, I talked to her about getting her danged head out of my lung, and I knew in my heart that she would come out with a full head of hair (which she did). So how do you take all those experiences and wrap them in a short answer to the question, "Do you have kids?" I don't know. I just don't know.
Kaitlyn
Monday, September 30, 2013
Sunday, September 29, 2013
Never once...
Sunday morning we got up to go to church again, and this time I didn't have any resistance. I was ready to go even though I just shuffled all the way to the car and then to the door of service.
That Sunday, worship included a song that our church has probably been singing for the last 6 months or so by Matt Redman called "Never Once":
That Sunday, worship included a song that our church has probably been singing for the last 6 months or so by Matt Redman called "Never Once":
Standing on this mountaintop
Looking just how far weve come
Knowing that for every step
You were with us
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much Youve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Kneeling on this battle ground
Seeing just how much Youve done
Knowing every victory
Was Your power in us
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Yes, our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Scars and struggles on the way
But with joy our hearts can say
Never once did we ever walk alone
Carried by Your constant grace
Held within Your perfect peace
Never once, no, we never walk alone
Never once did we ever walk alone
Never once did You leave us on our own
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
Every step we are breathing in Your grace
Evermore we'll be breathing out Your praise
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
You are faithful, God, You are faithful
The italic fonts are to highlight the words that really spoke to me as I cried that morning. I pretty much always cry when I go to church because I am surrounded by believers and can physically feel the presence of our God around me. Its an amazing, amazing thing and it brings me so much comfort.
This song particularly spoke to me because it repeats the phrase over and over, "You are faithful." I have been so incredibly blessed to be surrounded by family and friends who have lifted Alex and I up in prayer over, and over, and over, and over again. I can tell you without a doubt that this is the only reason that we have been able to cope in the way that we have. I know that I will cling to the promise of God's faithfulness, and I know that one day we will have our family here on Earth and eventually we will be restored with Kaitlyn in heaven.
Saturday, September 28, 2013
Stella's Story
Over 4th of July weekend I was invited over to our friends Charlie and Becky's house for a bar-b-que since Alex was overseas. I got to meet some of the people in their lifegroup (or small group Bible study) through our church, and then their daughter and I went to watch a soccer game in Frisco.
One of the ladies I met that name is named Stella. I didn't get to talk to her a whole lot, but I just remember that I liked her spunk and thougth she was a really neat lady. The Saturday that the tree fell, Stella had volunteered to bring us dinner. She came over, and we sat on the couch and talked for a little bit.
Stella had been married and had lost her husband to a suicide. She raised her son from that marriage until he went off to college in Austin, and at the age of 24 he had also committed suicide. I can not imagine the amount of pain that it would be to raise a child only to lose them at such a young age, and her eyes still welled with tears when she told me her story. Stella wore a really pretty cross on a necklace, and when I commented on it she told me the secret: it was actually an urn and it had some of her son's ashes in it so that she kept him with her always. Looking at her necklace, you would have just thought it was from Brighton or James Avery, but it was really much more than that. I told her how much I loved that idea, and I shared with her that we were having a really hard time deciding what to put on Kaitlyn's urn.
We have already picked out the urn that we would like for Kaitlyn to be permanently sealed in, but we are just having a really hard time deciding what the front of it should say. The examples in the urn book (yes, you shop for urns like you do housewares, there's a cataloge) were things like their name and date of birth and death; or "Forever in our hearts" which I vetoed because I felt like it was super cheesy. I don't know what it should say, but I don't want it to be something sad. Stella told me that we should be sure and take our time deciding, because after her son was sealed she decided she didn't really care for what she put on the front at the time of his passing. She also told us that no matter what we decided, it will still make us sad to see her urn on our nightstand. I guess she's right, Kaitlyn's urn will always remind me of the loss of our sweet baby girl, but I guess I would like it to also remind us of God's promise of hope. Stella was so sweet, she humored me and came and held Kaitlyn's temporary urn and loved on her. She told me that her son had a much bigger urn since he had been over 6 feet tall. My heart absolutely breaks for her loss, but she is such a strong and courageous lady for sharing her story with us.
If a tree falls in the backyard...
Alex's brother and sister-in-law came over on Saturday. Chris and Audra have been great friends to us since we've been married, and we try to meet up with them about once a month to catch up and talk about life. They were both there the morning that Kaitlyn was born, and had been around as much as their jobs allowed the rest of the week.
We had this really gorgeous Bradford Pear tree in our back yard that was planted the same time the house was built about 15 years ago. When Alex went off to Flight Medic school two years ago, the tree decided that was the perfect time to splinter off about a third of its trunk and I had the priviledge of chopping up all that wood with a handsaw because I was too chicken to use the chainsaw by myself. We debated then about taking down the tree, but we decided to see if it would last a little longer since it was kind of the main attraction in the back yard and the leaves changed color really nicely in the fall. Well the Bradford Pear decided that it had stood as 2/3 of a tree for long enough, and another third fell down the Saturday that Chris and Audra were there. Of course, the boys decided to take the chainsaw out and get it all cut up, and that left Audra and I alone to have some quality sister time.
When we first got pregnant with Kaitlyn, we knew we wanted to tell Chris and Audra face to face because they had shared with us that they had been trying to get pregnant for a while and we not successful. I told Alex we needed to be very considerate of their feelings, because I didn't want to rub it in that we were able to get what they had been trying for. When we told them, they were both excited for us and told us they couldn't wait to meet their new niece or nephew. I appreciated their reaction, but still felt a little sad because I wanted them to be able to have a successful pregnancy, too. They have since told us that they are looking into adoption, and we are excited to support them no matter which way their family grows.
While the boys were out chopping the tree down, I started talking to Audra about Alex's sister who has two little girls of her own. For those of you who don't know us personally, my husband has kids from a previous marriage that ended in a nasty divorce and unfortunately we are not allowed to see his kids or have a relationship with them because of their mom. I told Audra that I really had to stop myself from comparing my stillbirth with his ex's successful pregnancies, and how bitterness had been trying to creep in on me all week. We have a picture of his kids on our fridge from the last time we saw them, and earlier that week I had looked at that picture and just broke down. Audra shared with me that she had battled the same demon when it came to Alex and Chris' sister. She told me that when she and Chris were trying to get pregnant, his sister had come up pregnant with her second little girl that was not planned in any way. Audra told me that she had cried a lot of "bitter tears" over that fact, and that she had to really work to keep herself from giving in to bitterness and jealousy.
Audra confided in me a lot that day, and it was encouraging to me to hear how she had overcome her bouts of bitterness to be a great aunt to those two little girls. I look to her as a great example of who I'd like to be until we are able to start our family successfully. And who knows, maybe God will bless us with coinciding pregnancies...
Friday, September 27, 2013
Kaitlyn's Bracelet
When we called my parents to come back to the house for a bit, my mom let me know that a person from James Avery had called and let her know that the bracelets Jan had given us were ready for pickup. Mom and Dad went over to get those for us and then headed back to the house.
I've worn this bracelet every day since I got it, and I love it. I have to tell a story about the lady that helped us with the engraving, though. First off, when we got to Kaitlyn's weight she asked if I wanted the "lbs" or if I wanted "#" to represent pounds. "#"? Really? Let's try to keep it classy. I'm sure she was trying to save us a little money because its a little expensive to engrave somebody's entire name on a bracelet, let alone their entire life in one little area. But I absolutely love the way it turned out, and I wear it on my left hand with my watch so that it clinks together every now and then. Its really pretty.
I've worn this bracelet every day since I got it, and I love it. I have to tell a story about the lady that helped us with the engraving, though. First off, when we got to Kaitlyn's weight she asked if I wanted the "lbs" or if I wanted "#" to represent pounds. "#"? Really? Let's try to keep it classy. I'm sure she was trying to save us a little money because its a little expensive to engrave somebody's entire name on a bracelet, let alone their entire life in one little area. But I absolutely love the way it turned out, and I wear it on my left hand with my watch so that it clinks together every now and then. Its really pretty.
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Thursday and Friday
Thursday was kind of a blur to me, and I'll attribute that to it being one of those "bad days" that accompanied a good day on Wednesday. My dad flew in on Thursday night, and it was good to see him since he had needed to go to work the previous Monday and only my mom had stayed with us that week.
On Thursday, Alex had set up an appointment with Kenney for us to go pick up Kaitlyn at 4 pm on Friday. All day on Friday I tried really hard not to think about it. I tried to keep busy with my parents in town and tried to ignore the pit in my stomach that had formed when Alex told me that we had a definite appointment.
Its not that I didn't want to have her with us, it was more that getting her from Kenney made everything more real. I know, its like holding her and having a memorial service didn't do that for m already?? Its a different kind of sadness when you think about your loved one being cremated and going to pick them up versus when you bury them. When you put someone in the ground, its usually done the same day as the services, and Kenney had offered to try to do that for us but I couldn't bear for Kaitlyn to leave the hospital before we did. So instead we needed to go pick her up from Kenney's office.
After Alex, Mom, Dad, and I went to lunch, pretty much everyone told me I needed to go home and take a nap. I went and laid down on our bed, but I didn't sleep. I just laid there and cried for about 30 minutes before Alex came in to get me. I told him I needed to change clothes since I had worn sweat pants that day (and pretty much every day except for the day of the service). I decided that I at least needed to wear a skirt and a pretty top.
My Mom and Dad had talked to us all week about what we wanted them to do while we got Kaitlyn. Did we want them to go with us? Did we want them to leave? Did we want them to stay through the weekend? We didn't have any answers for most of these, but I knew that just Alex and I should go pick her up. We are her parents, after all, and this was just a moment where I felt like it needed to be the three of us. Alex didn't disagree with me, and I think he appreciated that I saw it that way. As far as them leaving, I didn't know. My Mom had asked me a couple of times to let her know how I felt and that it wouldn't hurt her feelings if we wanted them to go, but I just couldn't answer her. I didn't know how I would feel or what I should expect to feel, so I couldn't tell her one way or the other what I thought we would want when we got done. Mom decided that the best option was for them to act like they were leaving but not actually leave Dallas, and that way if we needed them they were close. I liked that idea a lot.
So Alex and I began our trek down to Kenney's office. It only took us about 20 minutes to get there, and I am 100% sure I cried the entire way. I kept telling Alex how badly I did NOT want to have to do this, to go pick up our daughter from being cremated. I was scared of what she was going to look like, and I was miserable thinking that this is the way we had to bring her home. I didn't want to bring her home in a box, but my sweet husband kept reminding me that "this was the best we can do in this situation." And of course, he was right.
We arrived at the Distinctive Life office a few minutes early, and I sat in the car for a minute or two before I steadied myself enough to go in. When we walked in, the lobby was decorated in a really nice contemporary way and I told Alex that this was a nice place to have to deal with what they deal with. Kenney came out from her office and I immediately started crying again as soon as I saw her. She hugged on me and rubbed my back and told me it was ok, and I just kept thanking her for everything. Sweet Kenney just told me, "Oh Honey, I didn't do anything." I had to laugh at her and I said, "Are you kidding me?? You took care of our baby." To which she responded with a giggle and said, "Yeah I did do that." She asked if we were ready to see her and we both said yes, and Kenney went back to her office and brought out Kaitlyn's little temporary urn. Alex and I hadn't even made a decision about what we wanted her final urn to look like, so Kenney had put her in a temporary urn which is just a rectangular box about 2 inches by 2 inches by 4 inches. I took that box and held it against my chest and just cried. She was so tiny! The little box was heavy, and I asked if I could look in it and Kenney told me sure. I pried the lid off a little and inside there is a beautiful red velvet bag that holds her ashes. I didn't go any farther than that, I just wanted to see what was inside the box. There is also a little metal tag that I suppose it to keep everybody organized out there at the cremation site.
After I held Kaitlyn for a little while, I asked Alex if he wanted to hold her and of course he did. He held her close to his chest as we chit chatted with Kenney. She told us the story of her son, who is a Marine, and she and her husband were headed to visit him that weekend. She made us laugh a little about "Jon-Jon" and how badly she had embarrassed him when he had finished basic training. She showed us a picture of her beautiful granddaughter who had crowned her with the name, "Nanana", which is what she will always be to us.
When we left Kenney's office, she was sure to tell us that we should stop by and see her whenever we were in the area and we felt like it. I can tell you that when Alex has to stay in El Paso and I am in Dallas by myself I will definitely go see her and get hugs from her. She was by far a blessing in the worst situation.
We drove slowly home and I called Mom and Dad and told them to come wait out traffic at our house since it was a Friday afternoon in Dallas. When we got to the house, I took Kaitlyn inside and put her next to her white Jenny bunny on my nightstand, right next to the memory box from the hospital, and next to a beautiful arrangement of flowers.
Wednesday, September 25, 2013
Waiting and conversating
On Wednesday, we were suppose to be able to go pick up Kaitlyn from the funeral home. I was dreading that day since the memorial service, but circumstances changed and Kenney hadn't been able to get all the paperwork (death certificate) finished by Wednesday. She told us that Kaitlyn would tentatively be ready on Friday.
So on Wednesday, we waited. Our good friend Chad had the day off, and since Chad and Jenny were on the schedule for dinner that night, Chad took off that day and basically came and hung out with us the whole day. Alex and I were both glad for the distraction, because Chad and Jenny are always good for laughs.
Chad and Alex decided they wanted to go hit balls at Top Golf, a driving range down the street from us. I wanted to get out of the house and be outside, so naturally I loaded up my computer and went with them. It was really nice to be able to sit outside, and I just started writing about everything that had happened the past week. It amazed me how much it felt like everything had just happened, and yet we were a week out from holding Kaitlyn.
Jenny and Chad had come to our house nearly every day since Kaitlyn had passed. Jenny had held my hand when I cried, and sweet Chad was there for Alex in the way that guys are. I told Jenny once that I really appreciated her and Chad being there and talking with us, and Jenny just responded that a lot of the time she doesn't know what to say. I told her it doesn't matter what she says, but just being there helps a lot. I like talking about nothing because it reminds me that the world is still moving, even though sometimes it still feels like I am stuck in a time warp and I keep reliving the 18th. Being reminded of the nothings helps us get back to our new normal, and helps use from getting stuck.
I had a few friends that had reached out to me about their losses with pregnancy, and I have to confess that sometimes it really upset me. I would hear about people losing their babies at 8 weeks, 10 weeks, 12 weeks, and I really had to guard myself about not getting angry. Most of the time I would just start crying and of course Alex would come and hug on me and tell me that people were only trying to help me feel not alone. But honestly, I wasn't just finding out I was pregnant. I wasn't about to have a baby shower. I had felt Kaitlyn move, have the hiccups, rub her head under my ribcage, and all the things that moms do when they still have their baby inside. I had already been through the morning sickness, exhaustion, hormone swings, everything. We were driving to the hospital to come home with our child in the carseat in the back. That's been the phrase that I use to talk about it, "we had the carseat in the back." Our full expectation that morning was to hear our girl cry, get to change diapers (yes, I said GET to, not have to), start feeding, and be able to see her cute little face finally.
A year ago, I was really involved with a Bible study at my church and I met a girl named Kristen. Kristen had a friend named Allison who had lost her baby boy at 37 weeks old, and Allison had emailed me the week after we lost Kaitlyn. Allison said it best in that "a loss is HUGE, but I felt alone in finding someone who was closer to my [our] situation." Allison also completely read my mind in saying this:
Praying for the little things for you right now...like the awkwardness of when people ask you how many kids you have. Or that your body quickly recuperates so it can get ready to try again, when your soul is ready! Praying that people are not insensitive or make insensitive remarks ( well, at least she is in a better place-ugh, that one always ticked me off) and if they do you are able to handle with grace...or how you just randomly might have a break down and know that is OK. These next few weeks/months will be a real roller coaster. You will think you are handling it very well and then you get the air knocked out of you. So, you pick yourself up, dust off, and keep fighting.
Let's all just take a minute and realize that this is a complete stranger writing this to me. This is a lady who I have never met, and all we have in common is a faith in Christ and one single person that I met a year before this happened. She was the first person to contact me having gone through my situation, but we would soon find ourselves surrounded by others who would share their stories and comfort us in some ways that others can't.
So on Wednesday, we waited. Our good friend Chad had the day off, and since Chad and Jenny were on the schedule for dinner that night, Chad took off that day and basically came and hung out with us the whole day. Alex and I were both glad for the distraction, because Chad and Jenny are always good for laughs.
Chad and Alex decided they wanted to go hit balls at Top Golf, a driving range down the street from us. I wanted to get out of the house and be outside, so naturally I loaded up my computer and went with them. It was really nice to be able to sit outside, and I just started writing about everything that had happened the past week. It amazed me how much it felt like everything had just happened, and yet we were a week out from holding Kaitlyn.
Jenny and Chad had come to our house nearly every day since Kaitlyn had passed. Jenny had held my hand when I cried, and sweet Chad was there for Alex in the way that guys are. I told Jenny once that I really appreciated her and Chad being there and talking with us, and Jenny just responded that a lot of the time she doesn't know what to say. I told her it doesn't matter what she says, but just being there helps a lot. I like talking about nothing because it reminds me that the world is still moving, even though sometimes it still feels like I am stuck in a time warp and I keep reliving the 18th. Being reminded of the nothings helps us get back to our new normal, and helps use from getting stuck.
I had a few friends that had reached out to me about their losses with pregnancy, and I have to confess that sometimes it really upset me. I would hear about people losing their babies at 8 weeks, 10 weeks, 12 weeks, and I really had to guard myself about not getting angry. Most of the time I would just start crying and of course Alex would come and hug on me and tell me that people were only trying to help me feel not alone. But honestly, I wasn't just finding out I was pregnant. I wasn't about to have a baby shower. I had felt Kaitlyn move, have the hiccups, rub her head under my ribcage, and all the things that moms do when they still have their baby inside. I had already been through the morning sickness, exhaustion, hormone swings, everything. We were driving to the hospital to come home with our child in the carseat in the back. That's been the phrase that I use to talk about it, "we had the carseat in the back." Our full expectation that morning was to hear our girl cry, get to change diapers (yes, I said GET to, not have to), start feeding, and be able to see her cute little face finally.
A year ago, I was really involved with a Bible study at my church and I met a girl named Kristen. Kristen had a friend named Allison who had lost her baby boy at 37 weeks old, and Allison had emailed me the week after we lost Kaitlyn. Allison said it best in that "a loss is HUGE, but I felt alone in finding someone who was closer to my [our] situation." Allison also completely read my mind in saying this:
Praying for the little things for you right now...like the awkwardness of when people ask you how many kids you have. Or that your body quickly recuperates so it can get ready to try again, when your soul is ready! Praying that people are not insensitive or make insensitive remarks ( well, at least she is in a better place-ugh, that one always ticked me off) and if they do you are able to handle with grace...or how you just randomly might have a break down and know that is OK. These next few weeks/months will be a real roller coaster. You will think you are handling it very well and then you get the air knocked out of you. So, you pick yourself up, dust off, and keep fighting.
Let's all just take a minute and realize that this is a complete stranger writing this to me. This is a lady who I have never met, and all we have in common is a faith in Christ and one single person that I met a year before this happened. She was the first person to contact me having gone through my situation, but we would soon find ourselves surrounded by others who would share their stories and comfort us in some ways that others can't.
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
The bad days and body betrayal
I feel like I would be doing everyone a disservice if I didn't also write about the bad days. For every good day in that first week, there was at least one bad day to go along with it.
Tuesday was a bad day. It usually starts with nothing... Just being quiet for long enough to start reliving our loss. The most vivid images come back into my head at a moment's notice, and the worst was thinking about the nose bleeds. Kaitlyn's little body was breaking down while we were able to hold her, and her sweet little nose kept bleeding. Nurses, visitors, whoever, kept handing me kleenexes to wipe away the blood, but her sweet nose just kept bleeding. This image kept coming to me one day while I was in the shower and I just lost it. I. lost. it. Alex came and found me in the shower and asked "what's wrong, what is it?" and I cried to him about how I was her Mom and I was suppose to protect her and I didn't do that. I didn't protect my baby girl from this happening to her. I couldn't stop her nose from bleeding, I couldn't stop time so that they would never take her away. I just couldn't protect her from this. Alex would usually just wrap his arms around me and let me cry, and tell me it was ok. He never tried to comfort me too much (that is a thing), but mostly he just knew I needed to be held.
Another hard thing was thinking about holding Kaitlyn and feeling all of her weight on my chest. I missed holding her, just holding her. All 7 pounds and 9 ounces. I missed being able to stroke her hair and tell her how much I loved her. I miss those ridiculously long eyelashes that she clearly got from Alex. I miss that sweet face and being able to rub on her cheeks. I know, of course, that none of my memories are really of my daughter. She wasn't there when we were holding her, she was already gone. I just have the shell of her, and my perceptions of her spirited personality that I had when she was moving around inside me.
The "should haves" crept (and creep) in quite often. I should have a healthy baby. I should have my daughter with me. I should have a happy family. Should have... Should have... Should have.
While I was trying desperately to deal with all of my disappointment of not having our child in the house, my body was doing an awesome denial dance of its own. It's a hefty amount of salt put into your wound when your body doesn't realize that there is no reason for it to try to feed anybody, because there's no baby waiting to be fed. What they tell you in the hospital is to wrap your chest to signal to your body that everything needs to deflate, but they don't tell you how incredibly painful and uncomfortable that is. Their answer to that is adding more meds, of course. So here I am, waddling around the house with an ice pack strapped across my belly and an ace bandage wrapped so tight around my chest that I can hardly breathe. Not in the least bit comfortable, and of course none of my clothes fit so I'm rockin' the stretchy pants and oversized t-shirts the majority of the time. Luckily, I was raised right and managed to at least put mascara on quite a few days.
When I was in the throes of a bad day, I tried to remind myself of the things I had learned in a Bible study last fall. One of the big lessons was about pride. At some point during the study, the leader talked about how we think that we shouldn't have to do things like wait in line at a red light or be patient in the line at the grocery store. It may seem silly, but it really resonated with me because she kept saying that sometimes we get in the mindset of "why me?" when our mindset should really be, "why not me?". What have we done that exempts us from hardships? Whenever the "should haves" hit, I am still working on changing my "why me?" to "why not me?", but its getting easier with each day.
Tuesday was a bad day. It usually starts with nothing... Just being quiet for long enough to start reliving our loss. The most vivid images come back into my head at a moment's notice, and the worst was thinking about the nose bleeds. Kaitlyn's little body was breaking down while we were able to hold her, and her sweet little nose kept bleeding. Nurses, visitors, whoever, kept handing me kleenexes to wipe away the blood, but her sweet nose just kept bleeding. This image kept coming to me one day while I was in the shower and I just lost it. I. lost. it. Alex came and found me in the shower and asked "what's wrong, what is it?" and I cried to him about how I was her Mom and I was suppose to protect her and I didn't do that. I didn't protect my baby girl from this happening to her. I couldn't stop her nose from bleeding, I couldn't stop time so that they would never take her away. I just couldn't protect her from this. Alex would usually just wrap his arms around me and let me cry, and tell me it was ok. He never tried to comfort me too much (that is a thing), but mostly he just knew I needed to be held.
Another hard thing was thinking about holding Kaitlyn and feeling all of her weight on my chest. I missed holding her, just holding her. All 7 pounds and 9 ounces. I missed being able to stroke her hair and tell her how much I loved her. I miss those ridiculously long eyelashes that she clearly got from Alex. I miss that sweet face and being able to rub on her cheeks. I know, of course, that none of my memories are really of my daughter. She wasn't there when we were holding her, she was already gone. I just have the shell of her, and my perceptions of her spirited personality that I had when she was moving around inside me.
The "should haves" crept (and creep) in quite often. I should have a healthy baby. I should have my daughter with me. I should have a happy family. Should have... Should have... Should have.
While I was trying desperately to deal with all of my disappointment of not having our child in the house, my body was doing an awesome denial dance of its own. It's a hefty amount of salt put into your wound when your body doesn't realize that there is no reason for it to try to feed anybody, because there's no baby waiting to be fed. What they tell you in the hospital is to wrap your chest to signal to your body that everything needs to deflate, but they don't tell you how incredibly painful and uncomfortable that is. Their answer to that is adding more meds, of course. So here I am, waddling around the house with an ice pack strapped across my belly and an ace bandage wrapped so tight around my chest that I can hardly breathe. Not in the least bit comfortable, and of course none of my clothes fit so I'm rockin' the stretchy pants and oversized t-shirts the majority of the time. Luckily, I was raised right and managed to at least put mascara on quite a few days.
When I was in the throes of a bad day, I tried to remind myself of the things I had learned in a Bible study last fall. One of the big lessons was about pride. At some point during the study, the leader talked about how we think that we shouldn't have to do things like wait in line at a red light or be patient in the line at the grocery store. It may seem silly, but it really resonated with me because she kept saying that sometimes we get in the mindset of "why me?" when our mindset should really be, "why not me?". What have we done that exempts us from hardships? Whenever the "should haves" hit, I am still working on changing my "why me?" to "why not me?", but its getting easier with each day.
Monday, September 23, 2013
Group Counseling
When we got home from our errands Monday afternoon, I took a nap and woke up to find out that my Mom had been doing some research. The hospital that we chose to deliver at had offered quite a few classes for new parents, and I went to every single one of them except the couples pain management class. I didn't like the idea of being the only one there without their husband, and as much as my wing-woman Jenny had been gracious in sitting through the birthing classes with me, I was not about to subject her to that.
My mom had somehow discovered that there was a grief class for parents that had been through miscarriages, stillbirths, and the loss of on an infant. She found out that the class was that night, and they only met once a month for sessions. She'd even gone as far as to call the hospital and make sure the group would be meeting last night, and to let the leaders of the group know that Alex and I may be coming and that we had just suffered a stillbirth the previous Wednesday. The leader of the session encouraged my mom to encourage us to go, even if all we did was sit there and cry. This week was going to be a "share" session, where everyone was just there to share their story. Mom first brought up the group to me, and I really didn't feel like going. Everything was still so fresh, and I felt like going was just going to make me sad. I wanted to give Alex the option of going, though, so I brought it up to him when he got home from running an errand to Trader Joe's. Alex really acted like he wanted to go, but he didn't want to push me too much. Since the group only meets on Monday nights, I knew that this week was the only opportunity Alex would have to come for a few months. I decided to suck it up and go.
First off, we got pretty lost looking for this class. I'm pretty sure I walked way further than I probably should have, but we finally made it to the classroom and there were only two people there, including the group leader. The leader was a nurse named Deb, and she recognized me from the first birthing class I had attended at the hospital. I had talked to her after the class since Jenny had been my wing-woman that day and Deb kept correcting herself from saying "husbands" to saying "husbands and partners", which really just cracked Jenny and I up. Deb hugged on me and said how sorry she was that we were there, but that she was glad we decided to come to the group that night.
The other lady that was in the room was a mom who had lost her baby boy at 6 months old. Her stillbirth happened 5 years ago. She told us the story of how she had some issues with spotting and called her OB on a Saturday only to be told to go in to the ER and have an ultrasound done. She was devastated when she learned that her little boy no longer had a heartbeat, and she decided to be induced that weekend to have him. She had also decided to bury him out in a cemetery in north Dallas, and she told me that she went to see her little boy every day that first year.
Then we were asked to share our story... I asked Alex to tell it and I would interrupt when I wanted to, because I had pretty much sat there and cried the whole time while I was listening to the story of the 6 month old. Alex started out, but it wasn't very long before I interrupted and started talking. I needed to make sure that my side of the story was told, and how I had been silly enough to tell him not to worry when the first four nurses couldn't find Kaitlyn's heart beat. Our story didn't take very long to tell, and when I looked up Deb was just nodding her head and saying how sorry she was that we were here. I asked her how often things like this happen- and her only response was, "Way too often."
When Alex and I walked back out to the car (he walked, I shuffled), I started talking to him about the other mom. She had told us that she had a little celebration every year on her boy's birthday and that every year until this year her family would meet her at his graveside to remember him. This year, her family forgot. They didn't call or text her, and they didn't show up at his graveside. I told Alex that I really don't want to be there in five years. This mom had another child, a successful pregnancy, after her stillbirth, and her little boy knew the name of their stillbirth child and even asked to go sit and think about his brother. I told Alex I know people grieve differently, but I really don't want to be there in five years. I know that this is a defining moment in our lives, but I don't want it to define who we are. I love our daughter, but she wouldn't want us to be sad about her being gone. I know where our baby is.
My mom had somehow discovered that there was a grief class for parents that had been through miscarriages, stillbirths, and the loss of on an infant. She found out that the class was that night, and they only met once a month for sessions. She'd even gone as far as to call the hospital and make sure the group would be meeting last night, and to let the leaders of the group know that Alex and I may be coming and that we had just suffered a stillbirth the previous Wednesday. The leader of the session encouraged my mom to encourage us to go, even if all we did was sit there and cry. This week was going to be a "share" session, where everyone was just there to share their story. Mom first brought up the group to me, and I really didn't feel like going. Everything was still so fresh, and I felt like going was just going to make me sad. I wanted to give Alex the option of going, though, so I brought it up to him when he got home from running an errand to Trader Joe's. Alex really acted like he wanted to go, but he didn't want to push me too much. Since the group only meets on Monday nights, I knew that this week was the only opportunity Alex would have to come for a few months. I decided to suck it up and go.
First off, we got pretty lost looking for this class. I'm pretty sure I walked way further than I probably should have, but we finally made it to the classroom and there were only two people there, including the group leader. The leader was a nurse named Deb, and she recognized me from the first birthing class I had attended at the hospital. I had talked to her after the class since Jenny had been my wing-woman that day and Deb kept correcting herself from saying "husbands" to saying "husbands and partners", which really just cracked Jenny and I up. Deb hugged on me and said how sorry she was that we were there, but that she was glad we decided to come to the group that night.
The other lady that was in the room was a mom who had lost her baby boy at 6 months old. Her stillbirth happened 5 years ago. She told us the story of how she had some issues with spotting and called her OB on a Saturday only to be told to go in to the ER and have an ultrasound done. She was devastated when she learned that her little boy no longer had a heartbeat, and she decided to be induced that weekend to have him. She had also decided to bury him out in a cemetery in north Dallas, and she told me that she went to see her little boy every day that first year.
Then we were asked to share our story... I asked Alex to tell it and I would interrupt when I wanted to, because I had pretty much sat there and cried the whole time while I was listening to the story of the 6 month old. Alex started out, but it wasn't very long before I interrupted and started talking. I needed to make sure that my side of the story was told, and how I had been silly enough to tell him not to worry when the first four nurses couldn't find Kaitlyn's heart beat. Our story didn't take very long to tell, and when I looked up Deb was just nodding her head and saying how sorry she was that we were here. I asked her how often things like this happen- and her only response was, "Way too often."
When Alex and I walked back out to the car (he walked, I shuffled), I started talking to him about the other mom. She had told us that she had a little celebration every year on her boy's birthday and that every year until this year her family would meet her at his graveside to remember him. This year, her family forgot. They didn't call or text her, and they didn't show up at his graveside. I told Alex that I really don't want to be there in five years. This mom had another child, a successful pregnancy, after her stillbirth, and her little boy knew the name of their stillbirth child and even asked to go sit and think about his brother. I told Alex I know people grieve differently, but I really don't want to be there in five years. I know that this is a defining moment in our lives, but I don't want it to define who we are. I love our daughter, but she wouldn't want us to be sad about her being gone. I know where our baby is.
Sunday, September 22, 2013
Hot pink roses
Sunday afternoon, my family that had come in from Houston headed back to their homes. Sweet Presley had colored quite a few drawings for me, and that little determined girl made sure they made it on our fridge before she was ushered to the car (for movies and most likely a nap). The colored sheets of princesses have stayed on my fridge since they left, and I've enjoyed them every day since.
My family had loaded up all the flowers from the service in the backs of their cars and toted them in to the front room of our house. When I got up from a nap on Saturday, Alex and I both commented on how the front room smelled like a flower shop and we loved it. We received 5 green plants that I will attempt to keep alive, but I knew the rest of the flowers would fade quickly and I hated that reality. Quite a few of the arrangements had hot pink roses in them, and I absolutely loved those flowers. I thought Kaitlyn would have grown up to love those flowers, they seemed to fit her little personality so well for some reason.
My cousin, Holly, had just gotten married in April and her parents had her bouquet freeze dried and framed for her to hang on her wall. I had seen this for the first time when my aunt had thrown me a baby shower in Houston in early August, and I really liked the way the flowers still had their color. I wish I had known about this fancy preserving technique when we got married, I would have liked to do it with my own bouquet.
Sunday afternoon, I started searching for a way to get a selection of the flowers from the service arrangements freeze dried. Unfortunately, there wasn't a single company in Dallas that was still in business for this service (which I was really surprised by), but there was a company in Houston that made the wall hangings and they have a drop-off location in Richardson. Bingo! I went through probably 10 different arrangements and picked out my favorite flowers, some that had bloomed and some that were still closed. I called the company, arranged the drop off, and talked my sweet husband into playing chauffeur since I wasn't cleared to drive yet.
Here's the arrangement I put together:
I wish I had taken a few more pictures of it, but this is the only one I have. I picked out quite a few of the star burst lilies, a white lily, a white hydrangea, and several hot pink roses, daisies, and carnations. I also included a gold glittery butterfly from one of the plants. I was really proud of the way that it turned out, and I can't wait to see how it looks once its dried and we can put it on our wall. The process takes 6-8 weeks for the flowers to be dried out, and then we will have to make a final decision about which way we want them preserved (in an oval or round frame? what wood for the frame?).
My family had loaded up all the flowers from the service in the backs of their cars and toted them in to the front room of our house. When I got up from a nap on Saturday, Alex and I both commented on how the front room smelled like a flower shop and we loved it. We received 5 green plants that I will attempt to keep alive, but I knew the rest of the flowers would fade quickly and I hated that reality. Quite a few of the arrangements had hot pink roses in them, and I absolutely loved those flowers. I thought Kaitlyn would have grown up to love those flowers, they seemed to fit her little personality so well for some reason.
My cousin, Holly, had just gotten married in April and her parents had her bouquet freeze dried and framed for her to hang on her wall. I had seen this for the first time when my aunt had thrown me a baby shower in Houston in early August, and I really liked the way the flowers still had their color. I wish I had known about this fancy preserving technique when we got married, I would have liked to do it with my own bouquet.
Sunday afternoon, I started searching for a way to get a selection of the flowers from the service arrangements freeze dried. Unfortunately, there wasn't a single company in Dallas that was still in business for this service (which I was really surprised by), but there was a company in Houston that made the wall hangings and they have a drop-off location in Richardson. Bingo! I went through probably 10 different arrangements and picked out my favorite flowers, some that had bloomed and some that were still closed. I called the company, arranged the drop off, and talked my sweet husband into playing chauffeur since I wasn't cleared to drive yet.
Here's the arrangement I put together:
Lead where you are
9.22.13
I had fully anticipated that Sunday was going to be a "stay at home and barely get out of bed in your pajamas" day, but Alex had other ideas.
I woke up about 7:30, and had felt like I slept pretty decently with the help of my drugs and ice pack strapped to my belly. Alex was up around 4 am since he was still adjusting to the time change between Afghanistan and Dallas.
Around 8 AM is when it started- Alex started asking me if we were going to church. What? Didn't we just go to church yesterday? Didn't we just barely make it out of a harrowing trauma that we deserved a day to stay home and be lazy? Seriously. But Alex reminded me of what John had said the day before, that we didn't need to push away from God but draw near to him.
Here's my honesty: I really didn't want to go, but I didn't want to cause a fight or get a guilt-trip lecture about not going. So I threw on a dress and got ready to go to church. My parents were still staying with us, and our movement towards the door made them get ready and join us as well.
Two desperately important things happened at church that day: the first involves a song written by the amazingly talented writers at our church, and the second involves a guest speaker.
First, the song that was sung that morning in church: (download it here)
I had fully anticipated that Sunday was going to be a "stay at home and barely get out of bed in your pajamas" day, but Alex had other ideas.
I woke up about 7:30, and had felt like I slept pretty decently with the help of my drugs and ice pack strapped to my belly. Alex was up around 4 am since he was still adjusting to the time change between Afghanistan and Dallas.
Around 8 AM is when it started- Alex started asking me if we were going to church. What? Didn't we just go to church yesterday? Didn't we just barely make it out of a harrowing trauma that we deserved a day to stay home and be lazy? Seriously. But Alex reminded me of what John had said the day before, that we didn't need to push away from God but draw near to him.
Here's my honesty: I really didn't want to go, but I didn't want to cause a fight or get a guilt-trip lecture about not going. So I threw on a dress and got ready to go to church. My parents were still staying with us, and our movement towards the door made them get ready and join us as well.
Two desperately important things happened at church that day: the first involves a song written by the amazingly talented writers at our church, and the second involves a guest speaker.
First, the song that was sung that morning in church: (download it here)
Making Me Holy- Hope Fellowship Original
What can separate
Me from you
You’re my covering
I Cant be moved
No height no depth can Come between
And death has no hold on me
I stand redeemed
Your love is uncontainable
Your grace is unstoppable
And it’s making me whole
It’s making me holy
Your word is all-powerful
Breathing life into dust
And it’s making me whole
It’s making me holy
Whoa whoa its making me holy
Whoa whoa its making me holy
Take my weakness
Reveal your might
And do the impossible
With my life
To show your mercy
To be you’re light
I give my life away
Cause I cant deny
Your love is uncontainable
Your grace is unstoppable
And it’s making me whole
It’s making me holy
Your word is all-powerful
Breathing life into dust
And it’s making me whole
It’s making me holy
Don’t stop don’t stop
Making me holy
I have always loved the way that worship songs are able to express so simply what I feel inside, and this song definitely spoke to me that Sunday morning.
There was a guest speaker that Sunday, and I have to admit my initial reaction was disappointment that John wasn't going to be teaching. However, the service was about Jeremiah 29:11 which says, "'For I know the plans I have for you,' declares the Lord. 'Plans to prosper and not to harm you, to give you hope and a future.'" First off, this verse in and of itself was applicable to where I was that Sunday after everything we had been through. But then, the speaker decides to back up to read Jeremiah 29:4-10, and he talked about the context that this popular verse is found in. There's no way that I can reiterate the message in a compact way, so instead I'll do a link:
I encourage each of you to take a few minutes out of your day and listen to this message. He talks about not getting caught up in your situation so much that you forget your purpose and who put you there. He also said, "Even if your situation is somewhere you never thought you'd be..." Yes, that would be me, 100%. I never thought I would be here. I never thought I would have to deal with what we've been dealing with. But it comforted me so much to hear God's word speak so clearly through our church, and it reminded me again that I serve a living God, not just an idea from 2,000 years ago.
Saturday, September 21, 2013
...Shark Attack
I would be lying if I didn't say that there were times when I laughed so hard it literally felt like I was going to bust a stitch. This is one of those stories.
Chad and Jenny came over to our house ever night that my family came over, and they stayed until everyone left to be the last ones to hug us before we went to bed. I love both of them so much, and I doubt we will ever be able to repay them for the unconditional love and friendship they showed us that week.
My Aunt Mary is my mom's sister, and she has been a below-the-knee amputee since she was 3 years old. She lost her leg to cancer, and at the time I'm sure my grandparents worried very much about her quality of life as an amputee. She has been happily married now for more than 30 years, has two beautiful daughters who are both married, and has never once allowed her missing limb to define her or to inhibit her from leading an extremely normal life.
Anyways, I was out on the back porch when this story happened, but hearing it retold literally had me on the floor alternating between laughing and holding my incision. Apparently, Chad hadn't noticed that my aunt is an amputee, and he started questioning her about what happened to her knee before he realized that there was a significant skin color change between her thigh and her shin. My cousin's husband, Brett, quickly seized the opportunity to play a prank on poor Chad and started sayind, "DUDE You're not suppose to ask that! We don't talk about it!" and I'm sure Chad started backtracking as fast as he can. That's when my Aunt chimes in to say, "It was taken in a shark attack..."
And that's my family.
Chad and Jenny came over to our house ever night that my family came over, and they stayed until everyone left to be the last ones to hug us before we went to bed. I love both of them so much, and I doubt we will ever be able to repay them for the unconditional love and friendship they showed us that week.
My Aunt Mary is my mom's sister, and she has been a below-the-knee amputee since she was 3 years old. She lost her leg to cancer, and at the time I'm sure my grandparents worried very much about her quality of life as an amputee. She has been happily married now for more than 30 years, has two beautiful daughters who are both married, and has never once allowed her missing limb to define her or to inhibit her from leading an extremely normal life.
Anyways, I was out on the back porch when this story happened, but hearing it retold literally had me on the floor alternating between laughing and holding my incision. Apparently, Chad hadn't noticed that my aunt is an amputee, and he started questioning her about what happened to her knee before he realized that there was a significant skin color change between her thigh and her shin. My cousin's husband, Brett, quickly seized the opportunity to play a prank on poor Chad and started sayind, "DUDE You're not suppose to ask that! We don't talk about it!" and I'm sure Chad started backtracking as fast as he can. That's when my Aunt chimes in to say, "It was taken in a shark attack..."
And that's my family.
Hugs, lunch, and leaving
After the service was over, we walked out into the lobby and I saw a friend of mine from Midland across the way with her little boy, Parker. Carly was the daughter of my mom's best friend in Midland, and she graduated a few years ahead of me from high school. Her mom was a constant in my life growing up, she was always around or I was always hearing stories of "CJ" from my mom. CJ went to be with Jesus two years ago, just about a month before Alex and I got married. One of the last things she said to my mom on her final admission to the hospital was, "I don't have time to get sick again, I'm getting ready for Amy's wedding." Anyways, I walked over to Carly (who is about 6 months pregnant with their second little boy) and hugged her tightly, and told her that I know her mom is taking care of Kaitlyn. She hugged back and assured me that her mom was spoiling her rotten in Heaven, and being sure she is meeting the rest of our loved ones who are there.
Alex and I stood outside the main doors to the auditorium and hugged nearly (if not every) single person who came to support us that day. I think there were probably about 100 people there, and it surprised me how many people took time out of their day to come to the service for us. One of the amazing things about the service is that I have heard of quite a few people that loved the church and what John had said, and they are looking in to attending our church or just deepening or developing a relationship with Christ. I love hearing these stories and being apart of these conversations, it reminds me of a greater purpose.
After the majority of people left, Alex and our family went back to the kids' area of the church where they had arranged a lunch for us. We sat and chatted with some of our close friends, and Alex and I sat at a table with two of his good friends who had driven all the way from El Paso the day before to be with us. When it got to be about 1 pm, I started getting really uncomfortable and that's when I realized I was an hour overdue on both of my pain meds. I started giving Alex the "Holy cow this is not going to get better without hauling it home and getting those pills in my body" look, and we quickly excused ourselves to make our way back to the car.
As we were pulling out of the parking lot, Alex said to me, "Dang girl! You've got a lot of friends!!" which of course made me giggle. Then he said to me, "I feel like that was really good. Was that ok? Is it ok that we did that? Are you mad we did that?" in rapid fire before I could even answer any of his questions. I told him of course it was ok, and that I thought the service was perfect.
We got home, and Alex's two friends from El Paso came over for a little while before they needed to head back. One of the guys is named Rob, and he holds a special place in my heart for being there so much for Alex and I. He's the one that called the local chaplain and told her in no uncertain terms to high tail it to the hospital to be with us. I was laying down on the bed waiting for my pain meds to kick in when Rob came busting in our room and starts with his sarcastic, "What is this laziness? Not even going to make me a sandwich when I come to your house or what?" which even now makes me start laughing. Rob went and shared some man time with Alex and their other friend, Jeremy, before I fell asleep on the bed for a few hours that afternoon.
Alex and I stood outside the main doors to the auditorium and hugged nearly (if not every) single person who came to support us that day. I think there were probably about 100 people there, and it surprised me how many people took time out of their day to come to the service for us. One of the amazing things about the service is that I have heard of quite a few people that loved the church and what John had said, and they are looking in to attending our church or just deepening or developing a relationship with Christ. I love hearing these stories and being apart of these conversations, it reminds me of a greater purpose.
After the majority of people left, Alex and our family went back to the kids' area of the church where they had arranged a lunch for us. We sat and chatted with some of our close friends, and Alex and I sat at a table with two of his good friends who had driven all the way from El Paso the day before to be with us. When it got to be about 1 pm, I started getting really uncomfortable and that's when I realized I was an hour overdue on both of my pain meds. I started giving Alex the "Holy cow this is not going to get better without hauling it home and getting those pills in my body" look, and we quickly excused ourselves to make our way back to the car.
As we were pulling out of the parking lot, Alex said to me, "Dang girl! You've got a lot of friends!!" which of course made me giggle. Then he said to me, "I feel like that was really good. Was that ok? Is it ok that we did that? Are you mad we did that?" in rapid fire before I could even answer any of his questions. I told him of course it was ok, and that I thought the service was perfect.
We got home, and Alex's two friends from El Paso came over for a little while before they needed to head back. One of the guys is named Rob, and he holds a special place in my heart for being there so much for Alex and I. He's the one that called the local chaplain and told her in no uncertain terms to high tail it to the hospital to be with us. I was laying down on the bed waiting for my pain meds to kick in when Rob came busting in our room and starts with his sarcastic, "What is this laziness? Not even going to make me a sandwich when I come to your house or what?" which even now makes me start laughing. Rob went and shared some man time with Alex and their other friend, Jeremy, before I fell asleep on the bed for a few hours that afternoon.
The Memorial Service
9.21.13
We had decided to have a memorial service for Kaitlyn at our church, Hope Fellowship in Frisco, on Saturday at 1030. My parents stayed the night at the house with us on Friday, and when they got up in the morning they volunteered to go up to the church a little early to make sure everything was taken care of.
Alex and I were alone in the house for the first time since we came home from the hospital. The house was really quiet, and I immediately turned on the TV for some white noise. I asked Alex to move one of our bar stools into the bathroom for me so I could do my hair and makeup while sitting down so I didn't aggravate my c-section incision.
When I first realized I was pregnant, I shared it with one of our neighbor friends who lives two houses down named Kim. Kim and her sister (I don't even know her name, how bad is that?!) had given me all of their maternity clothes, plus some really great baby things that are still in the nursery waiting. Anyways, I had this nice black maternity dress that I had from them, and that's what I picked out to wear for the service. My dad had taken Alex to get some dress pants and a shirt on Friday since he had lost quite a bit of weight while he was away in Afghanistan.
We got ready, and we got in the car to head to the church. I think I cried the entire way there and I kept saying, "I really don't want to do this. I don't want to say good-bye to our daughter. I don't want to do this." But of course, my husband was the rock that he is and just held my hand and told me that everything was going to be ok.
We got to the church, and I just sat there. I looked at the place I had called my church home for the last five years, and really had to get up my courage to go inside. Alex came around and helped me out of the car, and I saw some work colleagues go by to go into the building.
One of my good friends from my previous job, Andy, got out of his car and headed towards us. Andy is a strong Christian, and was one of my favorite people to work with because of his sarcastic personality and his "big brother" treatment of me (which could be said of all the guys I worked with). Andy came up to me and gave me a big hug, and I immediately start crying again. Andy and his wife, Kim, had taken the time to make us a little book of their favorite verses from the Bible, and he gave it to us to put in the car before we went in the building.
There were a lot of people that showed up for us that day. As we entered the lobby of the church, there were probably somewhere between 30 and 40 people milling around the lobby talking to each other and waiting for us. Alex's Aunt Lucy and Uncle Paul came and hugged on us, and we found out later that they had actually had a similar situation with twins a long time ago. After we hugged on them, I just kept telling Alex that I needed to go hide, I wanted to get out of there at that moment. We were escorted back to the "green room", which is a little side room off the main auditorium where our worship band usually hangs out and waits to play between and during services. Pastor John's daughter, Macy, was back there waiting to sing at the beginning of the service, and we sat down as John came in to sit with us. My parents had followed us back, along with Alex's brother and sister-in-law and his mother.
Our angel, Kenney, came back to the green room to talk to us. I immediately start crying (again) when I see her, and she just comes and hugs on me and sits on the arm of the chair I was in. Kenney hugged on me and I asked to see one of the programs that she had made for us. It was absolutely beautiful, and it had a picture of Kaitlyn's footprints and hair on the front. I asked Kenney if she took care of my baby when she took her from the hospital, and my sweet angel told me that of course Nanana had taken care of baby Kaitlyn. Kenney had sung to her all the way out to the cremation site (mickey mouse), and she told me she loved on her the whole way there. I will forever, forever love this woman for caring so much for us when we were hurting so badly.
The service opened with Dana and Macy singing "God I look to you". They did an absolutely phenomenal job, and I have no idea how they had the strength to do it. Dana played the piano and Macy sung and played her guitar. I quietly sung along and cried as Alex and I held hands on the front row.
My Uncle Charley got up and said the opening prayer for the service. Uncle Charley and his wife, Sondra, had buried their baby girl Sheila when I was 8. Sheila had died of a brain tumor, and she was only two years old. My Aunt has been such a comfort to me in the days since Kaitlyn passed, even though I know our loss has only reminded them of the pain that they had more than 20 years ago.
Pastor John got up and gave maybe a 15 minute talk about the loss of a child, and things we can learn and appreciate from Kaitlyn's early passing. To be honest, I don't remember a lot of what he said, but I do remember him looking directly at Alex and I as he talked with compassion about everything that had happened.
The stage was completely filled with flowers, and I kept looking at the centerpiece we had picked out that was sitting at the front of the stage. It had Jenny's bunny, our "fraud" urn (a small purple one that was empty), and three candles that Kenney had put out for us. The two representing Alex and I are purple, and the one representing Kaitlyn is pink. The arrangement has plenty of green leaves, several hot pink roses, and pink and purple carnations. It was absolutely beautiful and fitting for our baby girl. When John was done talking, "Awakening" by Chris Tomlin started playing. I hadn't heard that song in a very long time (Alex had only played the intro for me when we were talking about having it played, which was more than fine with me), but I remembered the lyrics quickly and started singing along with them again as tears started rolling down my face. Then we got to the break in the music where the band starts playing pretty loudly, and I giggled to myself that we are probably the only parents on the planet that would request a song with such a ruckus in the middle played at our daughter's funeral. My grandparents were at the service, and they still go to a church with an organ as the main instrument, so I'd be shocked if they weren't somewhat surprised or offended by the choice of music that we had.
The service was absolutely perfect. It was our family, it represented who we were as Christians, and who we had dreamed that Kaitlyn would be as she walked through life. At the end, Alex and I went up to the centerpiece and I loved on the bunny that guarded the fraud urn. I actually knocked that urn over and muttered to Alex that I was really glad she wasn't in there otherwise I would have lost it completely (those of you who know me personally will think that's hilarious because I'm such a klutz sometimes). The two of us bent over and blew out the pink candle, representing our sweet Kaitlyn's life, and made our exit to the back of the church.
We had decided to have a memorial service for Kaitlyn at our church, Hope Fellowship in Frisco, on Saturday at 1030. My parents stayed the night at the house with us on Friday, and when they got up in the morning they volunteered to go up to the church a little early to make sure everything was taken care of.
Alex and I were alone in the house for the first time since we came home from the hospital. The house was really quiet, and I immediately turned on the TV for some white noise. I asked Alex to move one of our bar stools into the bathroom for me so I could do my hair and makeup while sitting down so I didn't aggravate my c-section incision.
When I first realized I was pregnant, I shared it with one of our neighbor friends who lives two houses down named Kim. Kim and her sister (I don't even know her name, how bad is that?!) had given me all of their maternity clothes, plus some really great baby things that are still in the nursery waiting. Anyways, I had this nice black maternity dress that I had from them, and that's what I picked out to wear for the service. My dad had taken Alex to get some dress pants and a shirt on Friday since he had lost quite a bit of weight while he was away in Afghanistan.
We got ready, and we got in the car to head to the church. I think I cried the entire way there and I kept saying, "I really don't want to do this. I don't want to say good-bye to our daughter. I don't want to do this." But of course, my husband was the rock that he is and just held my hand and told me that everything was going to be ok.
We got to the church, and I just sat there. I looked at the place I had called my church home for the last five years, and really had to get up my courage to go inside. Alex came around and helped me out of the car, and I saw some work colleagues go by to go into the building.
One of my good friends from my previous job, Andy, got out of his car and headed towards us. Andy is a strong Christian, and was one of my favorite people to work with because of his sarcastic personality and his "big brother" treatment of me (which could be said of all the guys I worked with). Andy came up to me and gave me a big hug, and I immediately start crying again. Andy and his wife, Kim, had taken the time to make us a little book of their favorite verses from the Bible, and he gave it to us to put in the car before we went in the building.
There were a lot of people that showed up for us that day. As we entered the lobby of the church, there were probably somewhere between 30 and 40 people milling around the lobby talking to each other and waiting for us. Alex's Aunt Lucy and Uncle Paul came and hugged on us, and we found out later that they had actually had a similar situation with twins a long time ago. After we hugged on them, I just kept telling Alex that I needed to go hide, I wanted to get out of there at that moment. We were escorted back to the "green room", which is a little side room off the main auditorium where our worship band usually hangs out and waits to play between and during services. Pastor John's daughter, Macy, was back there waiting to sing at the beginning of the service, and we sat down as John came in to sit with us. My parents had followed us back, along with Alex's brother and sister-in-law and his mother.
Our angel, Kenney, came back to the green room to talk to us. I immediately start crying (again) when I see her, and she just comes and hugs on me and sits on the arm of the chair I was in. Kenney hugged on me and I asked to see one of the programs that she had made for us. It was absolutely beautiful, and it had a picture of Kaitlyn's footprints and hair on the front. I asked Kenney if she took care of my baby when she took her from the hospital, and my sweet angel told me that of course Nanana had taken care of baby Kaitlyn. Kenney had sung to her all the way out to the cremation site (mickey mouse), and she told me she loved on her the whole way there. I will forever, forever love this woman for caring so much for us when we were hurting so badly.
The service opened with Dana and Macy singing "God I look to you". They did an absolutely phenomenal job, and I have no idea how they had the strength to do it. Dana played the piano and Macy sung and played her guitar. I quietly sung along and cried as Alex and I held hands on the front row.
My Uncle Charley got up and said the opening prayer for the service. Uncle Charley and his wife, Sondra, had buried their baby girl Sheila when I was 8. Sheila had died of a brain tumor, and she was only two years old. My Aunt has been such a comfort to me in the days since Kaitlyn passed, even though I know our loss has only reminded them of the pain that they had more than 20 years ago.
Pastor John got up and gave maybe a 15 minute talk about the loss of a child, and things we can learn and appreciate from Kaitlyn's early passing. To be honest, I don't remember a lot of what he said, but I do remember him looking directly at Alex and I as he talked with compassion about everything that had happened.
The stage was completely filled with flowers, and I kept looking at the centerpiece we had picked out that was sitting at the front of the stage. It had Jenny's bunny, our "fraud" urn (a small purple one that was empty), and three candles that Kenney had put out for us. The two representing Alex and I are purple, and the one representing Kaitlyn is pink. The arrangement has plenty of green leaves, several hot pink roses, and pink and purple carnations. It was absolutely beautiful and fitting for our baby girl. When John was done talking, "Awakening" by Chris Tomlin started playing. I hadn't heard that song in a very long time (Alex had only played the intro for me when we were talking about having it played, which was more than fine with me), but I remembered the lyrics quickly and started singing along with them again as tears started rolling down my face. Then we got to the break in the music where the band starts playing pretty loudly, and I giggled to myself that we are probably the only parents on the planet that would request a song with such a ruckus in the middle played at our daughter's funeral. My grandparents were at the service, and they still go to a church with an organ as the main instrument, so I'd be shocked if they weren't somewhat surprised or offended by the choice of music that we had.
The service was absolutely perfect. It was our family, it represented who we were as Christians, and who we had dreamed that Kaitlyn would be as she walked through life. At the end, Alex and I went up to the centerpiece and I loved on the bunny that guarded the fraud urn. I actually knocked that urn over and muttered to Alex that I was really glad she wasn't in there otherwise I would have lost it completely (those of you who know me personally will think that's hilarious because I'm such a klutz sometimes). The two of us bent over and blew out the pink candle, representing our sweet Kaitlyn's life, and made our exit to the back of the church.
Friday, September 20, 2013
What now?
9.20.13
As we pulled out of the hospital parking lot, Alex looked at me and said, "What now?" Should we go straight home... Was I ready for that?
I had my discharge prescriptions in hand and we decided to take those to Walgreens before going to the house. We drove around for probably an hour before finally making it back to the house, and it was really hard for me to come in the door. I sat in the car for a few minutes, and finally walked in through the garage like I had anticipated doing with Kaitlyn for the past 8 months.
That afternoon was a flurry of family and naps. I laid down on the our bed with an ice pack across my incision, and my cousins, best friend, and sister-in-law joined me in the bedroom between naps. My sweet family surrounded me and asked if there was anything they could do, which of course there wasn't.
Alex and I had one more conversation with our pastor about what was coming the next day, and as the sun began to set everyone started to leave for the evening. I'm not really sure how I did it, but I managed to sleep somewhat decently that night. I know I cried myself to sleep, but at least I was finally at home with my husband next to me and my dog on the other side. I dreaded what was coming the next day, but I tried to push it out of my mind as I fell asleep.
As we pulled out of the hospital parking lot, Alex looked at me and said, "What now?" Should we go straight home... Was I ready for that?
I had my discharge prescriptions in hand and we decided to take those to Walgreens before going to the house. We drove around for probably an hour before finally making it back to the house, and it was really hard for me to come in the door. I sat in the car for a few minutes, and finally walked in through the garage like I had anticipated doing with Kaitlyn for the past 8 months.
That afternoon was a flurry of family and naps. I laid down on the our bed with an ice pack across my incision, and my cousins, best friend, and sister-in-law joined me in the bedroom between naps. My sweet family surrounded me and asked if there was anything they could do, which of course there wasn't.
Alex and I had one more conversation with our pastor about what was coming the next day, and as the sun began to set everyone started to leave for the evening. I'm not really sure how I did it, but I managed to sleep somewhat decently that night. I know I cried myself to sleep, but at least I was finally at home with my husband next to me and my dog on the other side. I dreaded what was coming the next day, but I tried to push it out of my mind as I fell asleep.
Friday morning and going home
9.20.13
Friday morning was only for family. Everyone from work had stopped by the day before, and now it was somewhat quiet around our room at the hospital.
I have two cousins who are nurses in Houston: one that was a Labor and Delivery nurse before she started her own family, Ash, and one who is a Neonatal ICU nurse, Sam. Sam is currently pregnant with her first kiddo who is a little boy and he is due to arrive in mid-November. My third cousin, Holly, who lives in Oklahoma, had driven down on Wednesday to be here for the "big day", and she had been staying at our house the past few nights so that she was in the area. My two cousins from Houston arrived late Thursday night, but they didn't come up to the hospital until Friday morning.
My mom had told me that Sam was really nervous about seeing me because she didn't want to upset me. This just broke my heart because there is no way that I would have been upset at Sam for being pregnant- its not like she wished this on us or had anything to do with our loss. I was really happy to see her and her cute baby bump, and I told her little boy he'd better behave and get here safely.
Ash has a little girl named Presley who is 3 and a half, and she just had her second daughter, Brenna, in February. As soon as Ash saw me, she immediately burst into tears and hugged me so tight it hurt a little bit. She said how sorry she was that this had happened, and that they hadn't gotten there sooner. She came in and sat on the couch with me for a few minutes before I asked where Pres and Brenna were, and she said, "I didn't know if you would feel up to seeing them, so Rooster (her dad's grandpa name) has them in the hallway." I told her of course I wanted to see them, but I probably didn't really realize what I was signing us up for, and I wasn't really thinking and didn't ask Alex if it was ok for them to come in, but he didn't really seem to mind.
Sweet Presley came over and hugged us, and she is just a monster ball of energy. She was coloring and being little miss personality while we all sat around and talked. I was really ok until that little voice in my head started up with the, "I want this. I had this for a moment and then she was gone, I want to have a family. I want to have kids." I had a couple of little break downs, but over all I was ok, I think... Might be a different story if you asked everyone else who was in the room. The hardest thing for me was being around Brenna. Brenna is the spitting image of her dad, and she is only 7 months old at this point. She has the sweetest little feet, and that's what hurt me the most is that those little feet reminded me of Kaitlyn a lot. I held Kaitlyn's feet and counted her 10 perfect toes, and her 10 perfect fingers, and Brenna's socked feet didn't hide her sweet little toes enough. I couldn't be around her, and I couldn't hold her. Luckily, I have a family that was neither judgmental or questioning about me periodically leaving the room when I felt like I was going to start crying.
Dr. L had come in to see me in the early morning and talked to me about getting discharged Friday afternoon. She let me know that she'd like to keep the staples that were keeping my incision together in as long as possible, so my nurse Amy would be taking them out for me after lunch. When it was about 1, I decided it was time to get the heck out of there and I called Amy in to see if we could get the staples out to go home. My silly nurse cousins asked if they could come watch her take my staples out, and honestly I didn't really care that much. Both Ash and Sam said how good my incision looked (a nice small c-section scar), and Sam leaned over and started counting out how many staples there were (16). Then here came Amy with the tweezers to pull them out. She told me I could ask for a break if the pain got too much, but I didn't really feel anything and I was too entertained watching Ash and Sam's face as the staples came out. The staples were replaced with steri-strips, and we were cleared to get on the road.
My best friend, Jenny, had come up to the hospital that day. She had told us earlier in the week that she had picked out something special for Kaitlyn and she would still like to give it to us. Sweet Jenny brought up the most precious thing that I still have to hold on to: a white bunny rabbit that has very long floppy ears and the softest fur ever. At first, I thought that I liked the idea of the rabbit being cremated with Kaitlyn, but then I thought that I really didn't like the idea of anything else being with her but her outfit. Instead, we decided that this sweet bunny should be the focal point of the flowers that were going to be the centerpiece at the memorial service. Kenney had already come and gone, so Jenny took it over to Kenney Friday afternoon to be put in the floral arrangement.
The family helped take down all the flowers and presents that people had brought by the past two days. We had a lot of cards, and of course our luggage that we had happily packed three days before. This is about the time I started getting sick to my stomach thinking about rolling down the hallway and either seeing or hearing the newborns on the floor. I really didn't want to do it... Can't I just shimmie down the construction lattice outside?? Amy came in with my wheelchair, and my brilliant husband got out his noise-cancelling headphones and put them on me as I sat down. I almost cried at his thoughtfulness. Yes, I rolled down the hallway with my head down and noise-cancelling headphones on. I didn't see or hear anything, and managed to get on the elevator without having a complete melt-down. It did feel like it took three hours for the elevator to get on our floor, but once I was on it I felt my chest relax and my stomach unclench. It was raining that morning, so had gone to get the car and pull it under the car port before I started making my way down in the wheelchair. I was so relieved to see our familiar car, and as soon as we were outside I got up and hugged on my sweet nurse (who had tears in her eyes as we left) and I told her thank you about 5 times. I climbed up in the Tahoe and shut the door, and immediately started crying as we pulled away from the hospital.
Friday morning was only for family. Everyone from work had stopped by the day before, and now it was somewhat quiet around our room at the hospital.
I have two cousins who are nurses in Houston: one that was a Labor and Delivery nurse before she started her own family, Ash, and one who is a Neonatal ICU nurse, Sam. Sam is currently pregnant with her first kiddo who is a little boy and he is due to arrive in mid-November. My third cousin, Holly, who lives in Oklahoma, had driven down on Wednesday to be here for the "big day", and she had been staying at our house the past few nights so that she was in the area. My two cousins from Houston arrived late Thursday night, but they didn't come up to the hospital until Friday morning.
My mom had told me that Sam was really nervous about seeing me because she didn't want to upset me. This just broke my heart because there is no way that I would have been upset at Sam for being pregnant- its not like she wished this on us or had anything to do with our loss. I was really happy to see her and her cute baby bump, and I told her little boy he'd better behave and get here safely.
Ash has a little girl named Presley who is 3 and a half, and she just had her second daughter, Brenna, in February. As soon as Ash saw me, she immediately burst into tears and hugged me so tight it hurt a little bit. She said how sorry she was that this had happened, and that they hadn't gotten there sooner. She came in and sat on the couch with me for a few minutes before I asked where Pres and Brenna were, and she said, "I didn't know if you would feel up to seeing them, so Rooster (her dad's grandpa name) has them in the hallway." I told her of course I wanted to see them, but I probably didn't really realize what I was signing us up for, and I wasn't really thinking and didn't ask Alex if it was ok for them to come in, but he didn't really seem to mind.
Sweet Presley came over and hugged us, and she is just a monster ball of energy. She was coloring and being little miss personality while we all sat around and talked. I was really ok until that little voice in my head started up with the, "I want this. I had this for a moment and then she was gone, I want to have a family. I want to have kids." I had a couple of little break downs, but over all I was ok, I think... Might be a different story if you asked everyone else who was in the room. The hardest thing for me was being around Brenna. Brenna is the spitting image of her dad, and she is only 7 months old at this point. She has the sweetest little feet, and that's what hurt me the most is that those little feet reminded me of Kaitlyn a lot. I held Kaitlyn's feet and counted her 10 perfect toes, and her 10 perfect fingers, and Brenna's socked feet didn't hide her sweet little toes enough. I couldn't be around her, and I couldn't hold her. Luckily, I have a family that was neither judgmental or questioning about me periodically leaving the room when I felt like I was going to start crying.
Dr. L had come in to see me in the early morning and talked to me about getting discharged Friday afternoon. She let me know that she'd like to keep the staples that were keeping my incision together in as long as possible, so my nurse Amy would be taking them out for me after lunch. When it was about 1, I decided it was time to get the heck out of there and I called Amy in to see if we could get the staples out to go home. My silly nurse cousins asked if they could come watch her take my staples out, and honestly I didn't really care that much. Both Ash and Sam said how good my incision looked (a nice small c-section scar), and Sam leaned over and started counting out how many staples there were (16). Then here came Amy with the tweezers to pull them out. She told me I could ask for a break if the pain got too much, but I didn't really feel anything and I was too entertained watching Ash and Sam's face as the staples came out. The staples were replaced with steri-strips, and we were cleared to get on the road.
My best friend, Jenny, had come up to the hospital that day. She had told us earlier in the week that she had picked out something special for Kaitlyn and she would still like to give it to us. Sweet Jenny brought up the most precious thing that I still have to hold on to: a white bunny rabbit that has very long floppy ears and the softest fur ever. At first, I thought that I liked the idea of the rabbit being cremated with Kaitlyn, but then I thought that I really didn't like the idea of anything else being with her but her outfit. Instead, we decided that this sweet bunny should be the focal point of the flowers that were going to be the centerpiece at the memorial service. Kenney had already come and gone, so Jenny took it over to Kenney Friday afternoon to be put in the floral arrangement.
The family helped take down all the flowers and presents that people had brought by the past two days. We had a lot of cards, and of course our luggage that we had happily packed three days before. This is about the time I started getting sick to my stomach thinking about rolling down the hallway and either seeing or hearing the newborns on the floor. I really didn't want to do it... Can't I just shimmie down the construction lattice outside?? Amy came in with my wheelchair, and my brilliant husband got out his noise-cancelling headphones and put them on me as I sat down. I almost cried at his thoughtfulness. Yes, I rolled down the hallway with my head down and noise-cancelling headphones on. I didn't see or hear anything, and managed to get on the elevator without having a complete melt-down. It did feel like it took three hours for the elevator to get on our floor, but once I was on it I felt my chest relax and my stomach unclench. It was raining that morning, so had gone to get the car and pull it under the car port before I started making my way down in the wheelchair. I was so relieved to see our familiar car, and as soon as we were outside I got up and hugged on my sweet nurse (who had tears in her eyes as we left) and I told her thank you about 5 times. I climbed up in the Tahoe and shut the door, and immediately started crying as we pulled away from the hospital.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Thursday night
After everyone left on Thursday night, the room was really quiet. Alex helped me get showered and into my pajamas that I had packed happily the week before so that I didn't have to sleep in the hospital robes all week.
Like I had described before, the layout of the room we were in had my hospital bed on the opposite end of the room from a second queen size bed. Alex was sweet enough to stay with me in the hospital bed room on his army cot the first night, but the second night I wanted to get as far away from that thing as I possibly could without leaving the building.
I let my night nurse, Terri, know where I was just in case she came in looking for me, and she was super sweet and let me know she was a master at navigating the room and it wouldn't be a problem for me to sleep down there.
We laid down, and since I had taken my pain meds, I obviously passed out pretty quickly. The problem came in the morning at about 1 AM. I woke up, and I just couldn't stop crying. I was really uncomfortable, and I was completely broken. I didn't want to wake up Alex enough to talk to me, I felt like I was being selfish in asking him to not sleep well for the second night in a row. I let him know I was going back to the other end of the room, and he grunted his acknowledgement.
Throughout the day on Thursday, I had received a LOT of Facebook notifications on my phone that people were commenting on my status and sending me messages. I had been so busy with people in and out all day, that I hadn't had a chance to read or respond to any of them. This is what 1 AM in a hospital room is made for! Plus, I knew I had another round of pain meds coming at 2 AM and I only had an hour to waste before that blessing would come from Terri. I turned on TBS, which was showing re-runs of Friends, and started reading. I read, cried, and responded during those early morning hours, and I spent some time digesting everything that had happened in the last 48 hours. Terri came in and found me at 2 AM with my iPad in my lap and tears running down my face.
Terri had been my night nurse the previous night, and at 6 AM when she had taken out my epidural on Thursday, I had asked her to be sure that she would be returning to my room the following night. She seemed a little embarrassed that I specifically wanted her to return, and that I only wanted the now familiar faces of Amy and Terri to be taking care of me. I had requested on Wednesday that there be a sign put on the door that it be kept closed at all times, because at one point a food deliverer came into the room and left the door open and I heard a baby crying in the hallway and I had a complete come-apart panic attack and crying fit. Terri and Amy both had been phenomenal nurses and very attentive to my special situation.
Anyways, at 2 AM when Terri found me, she asked if she could sit on the bed for a minute and talk with me and I nodded. She told me she has a daughter my age, and she didn't have a clue what she would have said to her daughter if this had happened to her. But she gave me a big hug, and said how sorry she was that this had happened to us, and that compassion was very comforting to me. She gave me my meds, and within the next 30 minutes I was back in the big bed with Alex next to me.
Planning the service
9.19.13
Between visitors, naps, and eating, Alex and I sat down and started planning the memorial service for our daughter.
I had never been so stuck in deciding what I wanted. I wasn't prepared in any way to plan a memorial service; I never thought I would be here. The one thing that I knew is that I wanted one song in particular sung at the service, and I would like it done live. Our pastor's daughter is one of the lead singers in the band at our church, and she agreed to come sing at the service (bless her, bless her, bless her). I have never met her in person or talked to her, but her gracious spirit lead her to do this for us. Charlie and Becky's daughter, Dana, who I fondly call my "little sister", also agreed to come and play the piano for the song. I'm amazed at her strength to do this, because she knows Alex and I so well and I imagine it was all she could do to not cry as she played on Saturday.
Here are the lyrics from the song that opened the service, and this is the song that I sang when Alex was first deployed so I know it was one of Kaitlyn's favorites. At the beginning of my pregnancy, I was facing the decision to start a new job (and leave behind some of my favorite people), a 9 month deployment of my husband, and a pregnancy that I had no idea what to expect with.
I will love you, Lord my strength
I will love you, Lord my shield
I will love you, Lord my rock
Forever all my days, I will love you, God.
Hallelujah, our God reigns
Hallelujah, our God reigns
Hallelujah, our God reigns
Forever all our my days, Hallelujah
In our hearts, Lord, in this nation
Awakening
Holy spirit, we desire
Awakening
For You and You alone
Awake my soul, awake my soul, and sing
For the world you love
Your will be done, let Your will be done in me
In Your presence, in Your power
Awakening
For this moment, for this hour
Awakening
For You and You alone
Awake my soul, awake my soul, and sing
For the world you love
Your will be done, let Your will be done in me
Like the rising sun that shines
From the darkness comes a light
I hear Your voice and this is my
Awakening
Like the rising sun that shines
From the darkness comes a light
I hear Your voice and this is my
Awakening
Like the rising sun that shines
Awake my soul, awake my soul and sing
From the darkness comes a light
Awake my soul, awake my soul and sing
Like the rising sun that shines
Awake my soul, Awake my soul and sing
From the darkness comes a light
Awake my soul, awake my soul and sing
Between visitors, naps, and eating, Alex and I sat down and started planning the memorial service for our daughter.
I had never been so stuck in deciding what I wanted. I wasn't prepared in any way to plan a memorial service; I never thought I would be here. The one thing that I knew is that I wanted one song in particular sung at the service, and I would like it done live. Our pastor's daughter is one of the lead singers in the band at our church, and she agreed to come sing at the service (bless her, bless her, bless her). I have never met her in person or talked to her, but her gracious spirit lead her to do this for us. Charlie and Becky's daughter, Dana, who I fondly call my "little sister", also agreed to come and play the piano for the song. I'm amazed at her strength to do this, because she knows Alex and I so well and I imagine it was all she could do to not cry as she played on Saturday.
Here are the lyrics from the song that opened the service, and this is the song that I sang when Alex was first deployed so I know it was one of Kaitlyn's favorites. At the beginning of my pregnancy, I was facing the decision to start a new job (and leave behind some of my favorite people), a 9 month deployment of my husband, and a pregnancy that I had no idea what to expect with.
"God I look to you" by Jenn Johnson
God I look to you
I won't be overwhelmed
Give me vision
To see things like you do
God I look to you
You're where my help comes from
Give me wisdom
You know just what to do
I will love you, Lord my strength
I will love you, Lord my shield
I will love you, Lord my rock
Forever all my days, I will love you, God.
Hallelujah, our God reigns
Hallelujah, our God reigns
Hallelujah, our God reigns
Forever all our my days, Hallelujah
I put in bold the phrases that really stand out to me, and now mean more to me than ever.
Alex wanted the song "Awakening" by Chris Tomlin. Here are the lyrics to that song:
Awakening
Holy spirit, we desire
Awakening
For You and You alone
Awake my soul, awake my soul, and sing
For the world you love
Your will be done, let Your will be done in me
In Your presence, in Your power
Awakening
For this moment, for this hour
Awakening
For You and You alone
Awake my soul, awake my soul, and sing
For the world you love
Your will be done, let Your will be done in me
Like the rising sun that shines
From the darkness comes a light
I hear Your voice and this is my
Awakening
Like the rising sun that shines
From the darkness comes a light
I hear Your voice and this is my
Awakening
Like the rising sun that shines
Awake my soul, awake my soul and sing
From the darkness comes a light
Awake my soul, awake my soul and sing
Like the rising sun that shines
Awake my soul, Awake my soul and sing
From the darkness comes a light
Awake my soul, awake my soul and sing
Just typing out the lyrics to the Chris Tomlin song made me start crying. I absolutely love that song and I hope the angels were singing it when my baby girl entered into Heaven to meet her maker.
Kaitlyn's Nanana
9.19.13
I slept pretty well the night of the 18th, but I attribute that to drug therapy. I still had my epidural in, and every time I woke up you better believe I hit that button like nobody's business. Just let me sleep until I wake up from this nightmare.
The room we were in had a queen sized bed at the opposite end of the room from my hospital bed (think about 15 yards away from me), and my husband had asked my mom to bring his army cot from the house so that he could sleep in the same room as me. We fell asleep holding hands that night, and I think he was more uncomfortable than he'll ever tell me, but I was thankful to have him so close to me.
The next morning the nurse came in and took out my epidural so that I could start to get moving, which I was grateful for since I felt like everyone was in the main living room of the suite and I was stuck in bed. That annoyed me more than anything. The downside to getting my epidural out is that now I was on to the hard oral narcotics that me drowsy as hell. I mean, I would be mid conversation with someone and REALLY wanting to pay attention to what they were saying, and I would just nod off. I felt so rude!
Around 9:30, Kenney showed up. My parents were in the room with Alex and I while we talked to her. I am not kidding you when I say she was a God-sent. Kenney had buried two grandchildren of her own, and her compassion towards us was unfathomable. She talked to us about what had happened, and she encouraged us to make the right decision for our family and not worry about anything else. Kenney had a nickname for herself, and that was "Nanana", like Nana with an extra Na. Kenney asked if she could be allowed to be Kaitlyn's "Nanana" and take her to her final resting place. I will forever love this woman because she took such good care of both Alex and I and our baby. We decided to have Kaitlyn cremated because we aren't really sure if Dallas will be our permanent home, and neither of us liked the idea of burying our daughter and then leaving her here if we moved. So cremation seemed like the best answer for us. Kenney was ready to take Kaitlyn that day to be prepared, but I immediately started crying when she said that and she quickly said "I don't have to take her today, I don't have to take her now." I couldn't handle the thought of Kaitlyn being taken away from us, even though she wasn't physically with us at this point and hadn't been in a good 24 hours. I appreciated Kenney's flexibility to my irrationality and not wanting my daughter to be taken away permanently so quickly.
The pastor from our church had come by on Wednesday night, and we had set up a memorial service with him for Saturday. Kenney prepared the little pamphlets that would be handed out on Saturday, and she took a picture of Kaitlyn's sweet footprints for the front cover of the handouts. She really did a lot more for us than she was suppose to, and I doubt I will ever be able to repay her for her generosity and caring spirit. Seriously, an angel from God in our time of need.
I slept pretty well the night of the 18th, but I attribute that to drug therapy. I still had my epidural in, and every time I woke up you better believe I hit that button like nobody's business. Just let me sleep until I wake up from this nightmare.
The room we were in had a queen sized bed at the opposite end of the room from my hospital bed (think about 15 yards away from me), and my husband had asked my mom to bring his army cot from the house so that he could sleep in the same room as me. We fell asleep holding hands that night, and I think he was more uncomfortable than he'll ever tell me, but I was thankful to have him so close to me.
The next morning the nurse came in and took out my epidural so that I could start to get moving, which I was grateful for since I felt like everyone was in the main living room of the suite and I was stuck in bed. That annoyed me more than anything. The downside to getting my epidural out is that now I was on to the hard oral narcotics that me drowsy as hell. I mean, I would be mid conversation with someone and REALLY wanting to pay attention to what they were saying, and I would just nod off. I felt so rude!
Around 9:30, Kenney showed up. My parents were in the room with Alex and I while we talked to her. I am not kidding you when I say she was a God-sent. Kenney had buried two grandchildren of her own, and her compassion towards us was unfathomable. She talked to us about what had happened, and she encouraged us to make the right decision for our family and not worry about anything else. Kenney had a nickname for herself, and that was "Nanana", like Nana with an extra Na. Kenney asked if she could be allowed to be Kaitlyn's "Nanana" and take her to her final resting place. I will forever love this woman because she took such good care of both Alex and I and our baby. We decided to have Kaitlyn cremated because we aren't really sure if Dallas will be our permanent home, and neither of us liked the idea of burying our daughter and then leaving her here if we moved. So cremation seemed like the best answer for us. Kenney was ready to take Kaitlyn that day to be prepared, but I immediately started crying when she said that and she quickly said "I don't have to take her today, I don't have to take her now." I couldn't handle the thought of Kaitlyn being taken away from us, even though she wasn't physically with us at this point and hadn't been in a good 24 hours. I appreciated Kenney's flexibility to my irrationality and not wanting my daughter to be taken away permanently so quickly.
The pastor from our church had come by on Wednesday night, and we had set up a memorial service with him for Saturday. Kenney prepared the little pamphlets that would be handed out on Saturday, and she took a picture of Kaitlyn's sweet footprints for the front cover of the handouts. She really did a lot more for us than she was suppose to, and I doubt I will ever be able to repay her for her generosity and caring spirit. Seriously, an angel from God in our time of need.
The parade of visitors
9.19.13
Thursday is a blur of visitors coming and going to me. Here is my facebook post from that day:
Hello Facebook family,
Thank you all for all the prayers yesterday and today. Alex and I are absolutely devastated by the loss of our beautiful daughter, Kaitlyn Sophia Munoz.
When we arrived at the hospital yesterday morning, we were in pre-op getting all hooked up with IV's and monitors when the nursing staff had a hard time locating Kaitlyn's heart beat. Those of you that have been around me during the pregnancy know that I have always joked about Kaitlyn being stubborn and I was joking with the nurses and with Alex about her being stubborn about not coming out and trying to hide from us. After about four different nurses came in, they decided to call my OB and have her come in to do a sono to locate the heart rate. When Dr. Bellanger got there, she was doing the scan and did a quick run over the chest cavity. I saw it then, and I knew in my gut something was wrong, but I kept myself calm by thinking, "she's still looking, she's still looking." I think she was trying to gather herself to tell me what I already knew. One more pass over the chest to double check, and she finally turned to me and said, "There's no heart beat." Our sweet baby Kaitlyn had already gone to be with Jesus.
After the c section, we got to spend a couple of hours with baby girl before they needed to take her away. We got to put her in her bedazzled "going home" outfit before they took her. We still can't believe this has happened, and the only thing that comforts us is knowing without a doubt that our baby is in Heaven with all of the friends and family that have gone before us.
I wanted to say thank you to those of you who came to be with us yesterday. You will never know how much your physical presence is a comfort to us, and we appreciate you taking the time to stop by. We welcome any of you who may want to stop by today or tomorrow, sometimes just a big hug can really remind us that we are not alone in this, and there are no words to express our gratitude.
We will be having a memorial service on Saturday at 10:30 at Hope Fellowship in Frisco as long as I am discharged tomorrow. — with Jenny Williamson and 9 others.
I still can't express in words how much the physical hugs meant to me. To see people that have been my family in Dallas for the last five years take time out of their schedules to come and see us still makes me get a little teary eyed.
David started making a habit of stopping by every day, helping himself to a cup of coffee, and turning on Sports Center. This just cracked me up for some reason, and my parents really loved it that he continued to make himself at home with our family. Alex was helping me get moving out of the bed, and I was FINALLY allowed to take a shower. I was so happy to be able to wash off and put some makeup on, as silly as that sounds.
The rest of the day was filled with people coming and going. I would love to sit and tell you every conversation that I had with each person that stopped by, but I doubt that anyone would take the time to read them. Instead I'll just tell you some of the most vivid memories I have, and know that if you stopped by and I didn't write about you, I still love you very much and appreciate your presence.
Jan:
Jan is a lady I have never met before in my life, but she knew my parents from Midland and her husband had worked with my Dad before on some community projects. Jan will always be incredibly special to me, because she came in and spoke to my heart in a way that very few people were able to do. Jan had buried her son, Chris, when he was about 8 or 9, and their family had built a park in Midland that I use to play on when I was little. The park was designed for handicapped kids, and I loved going there growing up. Jan was able to sit and speak with me as a mother who had said good-bye to her child way too early, and that conversation is one that I will hold dear to my heart forever. Jan also brought a gift that touched me deeply, it is a silver bracelet from James Avery that says, "I can do all things in Him who strengthens me." She gave my mom the same bracelet, and told us to get them engraved with Kaitlyn's name or whatever we wanted to. This bracelet will always be special to me because of what it represents, but also because of who gave it to me.
Courtney:
Courtney is one of the nurses that I work with, and she has always stood out to me because of her compassion and her West Texas swag. She gives some of the best hugs, and I love that we bonded over being from the West, and I even grew up going to church with her cousin. Small world. Courtney brought me a pink heart pillow that is probably about 10 inches by 10 inches. Its super soft, and it reminds me of one of the changing pad covers that I bought to go in Kaitlyn's room. On the front of the heart, it has a tag that says, "Faith, Love, Peace, Hope", and it came with a cute charm that just says, "hope". This pillow has been a big comfort to me, and its sitting in my lap even as I write this. I held the heart over my C-section incision when I coughed to keep it from hurting, and now when I sleep I hold it over my incision so that when I turn over it the pressure from it keeps my incision from hurting. Kaitlyn would have loved this pillow.
Elizabeth:
Elizabeth is another girl I work with, and we've gone to the same church for a few years and shared our faith and struggles with each other. First off, "E", as I call her, has a 7 week old baby boy at home at this point. For her to take the time to get away from her newborn as well as her toddler to come see me is such an amazing thing to me.
E didn't bring anything, but her words to me were so comforting that I had to write about her. E is another momma who spoke to my heart and soul, and she reminded me that God has a plan, and that I need to trust him. She also said (I think a few times, or it just echoes in my mind), that I did nothing wrong, and that anything in my head that is telling me different is from evil. She told me to NOT listen to that voice in my head saying "If only... If only..." because that is Satan trying to use this to break me (which at this point, was totally possible with just a little shove). I had, and have, been struggling with the "What ifs", because as I said in a previous post, my baby girl was fine 8 days before we came in. If only... I had let the surgery be scheduled on the previous Wednesday. If only... I had listened to my inner instinct when I felt Kaitlyn's movements slow down and gone to the doctor. If only... I had had a normal birth and was holding my baby girl now.
Everyone wants to say that I am "so strong" and that they are impressed with my strength. Let me let you in on a little secret: I am a complete wreck. I have break downs, I cry at the dumbest things, and I am NOT strong. I am completely weak.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
2 Corinthians 12:9
Thursday is a blur of visitors coming and going to me. Here is my facebook post from that day:
Hello Facebook family,
Thank you all for all the prayers yesterday and today. Alex and I are absolutely devastated by the loss of our beautiful daughter, Kaitlyn Sophia Munoz.
When we arrived at the hospital yesterday morning, we were in pre-op getting all hooked up with IV's and monitors when the nursing staff had a hard time locating Kaitlyn's heart beat. Those of you that have been around me during the pregnancy know that I have always joked about Kaitlyn being stubborn and I was joking with the nurses and with Alex about her being stubborn about not coming out and trying to hide from us. After about four different nurses came in, they decided to call my OB and have her come in to do a sono to locate the heart rate. When Dr. Bellanger got there, she was doing the scan and did a quick run over the chest cavity. I saw it then, and I knew in my gut something was wrong, but I kept myself calm by thinking, "she's still looking, she's still looking." I think she was trying to gather herself to tell me what I already knew. One more pass over the chest to double check, and she finally turned to me and said, "There's no heart beat." Our sweet baby Kaitlyn had already gone to be with Jesus.
After the c section, we got to spend a couple of hours with baby girl before they needed to take her away. We got to put her in her bedazzled "going home" outfit before they took her. We still can't believe this has happened, and the only thing that comforts us is knowing without a doubt that our baby is in Heaven with all of the friends and family that have gone before us.
I wanted to say thank you to those of you who came to be with us yesterday. You will never know how much your physical presence is a comfort to us, and we appreciate you taking the time to stop by. We welcome any of you who may want to stop by today or tomorrow, sometimes just a big hug can really remind us that we are not alone in this, and there are no words to express our gratitude.
We will be having a memorial service on Saturday at 10:30 at Hope Fellowship in Frisco as long as I am discharged tomorrow. — with Jenny Williamson and 9 others.
I still can't express in words how much the physical hugs meant to me. To see people that have been my family in Dallas for the last five years take time out of their schedules to come and see us still makes me get a little teary eyed.
David started making a habit of stopping by every day, helping himself to a cup of coffee, and turning on Sports Center. This just cracked me up for some reason, and my parents really loved it that he continued to make himself at home with our family. Alex was helping me get moving out of the bed, and I was FINALLY allowed to take a shower. I was so happy to be able to wash off and put some makeup on, as silly as that sounds.
The rest of the day was filled with people coming and going. I would love to sit and tell you every conversation that I had with each person that stopped by, but I doubt that anyone would take the time to read them. Instead I'll just tell you some of the most vivid memories I have, and know that if you stopped by and I didn't write about you, I still love you very much and appreciate your presence.
Jan:
Jan is a lady I have never met before in my life, but she knew my parents from Midland and her husband had worked with my Dad before on some community projects. Jan will always be incredibly special to me, because she came in and spoke to my heart in a way that very few people were able to do. Jan had buried her son, Chris, when he was about 8 or 9, and their family had built a park in Midland that I use to play on when I was little. The park was designed for handicapped kids, and I loved going there growing up. Jan was able to sit and speak with me as a mother who had said good-bye to her child way too early, and that conversation is one that I will hold dear to my heart forever. Jan also brought a gift that touched me deeply, it is a silver bracelet from James Avery that says, "I can do all things in Him who strengthens me." She gave my mom the same bracelet, and told us to get them engraved with Kaitlyn's name or whatever we wanted to. This bracelet will always be special to me because of what it represents, but also because of who gave it to me.
Courtney:
Courtney is one of the nurses that I work with, and she has always stood out to me because of her compassion and her West Texas swag. She gives some of the best hugs, and I love that we bonded over being from the West, and I even grew up going to church with her cousin. Small world. Courtney brought me a pink heart pillow that is probably about 10 inches by 10 inches. Its super soft, and it reminds me of one of the changing pad covers that I bought to go in Kaitlyn's room. On the front of the heart, it has a tag that says, "Faith, Love, Peace, Hope", and it came with a cute charm that just says, "hope". This pillow has been a big comfort to me, and its sitting in my lap even as I write this. I held the heart over my C-section incision when I coughed to keep it from hurting, and now when I sleep I hold it over my incision so that when I turn over it the pressure from it keeps my incision from hurting. Kaitlyn would have loved this pillow.
Elizabeth:
Elizabeth is another girl I work with, and we've gone to the same church for a few years and shared our faith and struggles with each other. First off, "E", as I call her, has a 7 week old baby boy at home at this point. For her to take the time to get away from her newborn as well as her toddler to come see me is such an amazing thing to me.
E didn't bring anything, but her words to me were so comforting that I had to write about her. E is another momma who spoke to my heart and soul, and she reminded me that God has a plan, and that I need to trust him. She also said (I think a few times, or it just echoes in my mind), that I did nothing wrong, and that anything in my head that is telling me different is from evil. She told me to NOT listen to that voice in my head saying "If only... If only..." because that is Satan trying to use this to break me (which at this point, was totally possible with just a little shove). I had, and have, been struggling with the "What ifs", because as I said in a previous post, my baby girl was fine 8 days before we came in. If only... I had let the surgery be scheduled on the previous Wednesday. If only... I had listened to my inner instinct when I felt Kaitlyn's movements slow down and gone to the doctor. If only... I had had a normal birth and was holding my baby girl now.
Everyone wants to say that I am "so strong" and that they are impressed with my strength. Let me let you in on a little secret: I am a complete wreck. I have break downs, I cry at the dumbest things, and I am NOT strong. I am completely weak.
But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.”Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me.
2 Corinthians 12:9
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
The Nitty Gritty of Funerals and visitors
9.18.13 (I don't even remember what part this is because its getting ridiculous)
The afternoon of the 18th is pretty much a drug haze to me. I had a button to push for my epidural whenever I had pain, and I can remember snippets of people coming in to talk to us.
There was a chaplain that was attached to a unit in Fort Worth, and Alex's good friend Rob who is his superior in El Paso had made several calls to this female chaplain basically telling her to get her rear over to the hospital to see us. It kind of made me smile to think of Rob busting somebody's butt over the phone and telling her to get there NOW. She was sweet, and she helped Alex do a lot of the nitty-gritty that I was just too drugged up to think about let alone help with. Not to mention that I slept a lot that afternoon.
The nurses had given us a list of the funeral homes in the area and had circled ones that were close in Plano. Of course, we had absolutely no clue who to pick because we aren't originally from the area and had never buried anyone here (and had never planned to). Alex came into my part of the massive suite we were in in the late afternoon and told me he liked the Distinctive Life Funeral Home because the lady who had picked up the phone had actually talked to him like a human instead of just diving into the business aspects of burying our daughter. This blows me away that Alex could call a funeral home and say, "My daughter passed away and I need to know about funeral arrangements" and people could be so cold as to just dive in to the business side of it. The lady at Distintive Life is named Kenney, and she was an absolute God sent to us. Alex arranged for her to come see us the morning of the 19th, and we'll get to that in a minute.
On the night of the 18th, my parents went back to our house to let my cousin in (who had arrived that morning after Kaitlyn had been taken away), and to meet my Aunt Mary and Uncle Kenney who were driving in from Houston to be with us. My friend Kristin came to see us that night, and she brought Tiffs Treats, which were a total bummer because I was stuck on a liquid diet still at this point or I would have gone face-down in those suckers and not come up for air.
One of my favorite doctors came by to see us that evening, as well. He said that he had just finished up a case, otherwise he would have come earlier. He has six kids of his own, and he has been a big influence on my professional career. It meant a lot to me that he came by the day that Kaitlyn passed and held our hands and said that he was praying for us. Later, some of his office staff told me that he was proud that he was able to visit without having a break down, but that as soon as he got outside our door he started crying for us. Just knowing people care is seriously one of the best comforts we could ask for, and we were blessed to be surrounded by people who took the time to come show us how much we mean to them.
The afternoon of the 18th is pretty much a drug haze to me. I had a button to push for my epidural whenever I had pain, and I can remember snippets of people coming in to talk to us.
There was a chaplain that was attached to a unit in Fort Worth, and Alex's good friend Rob who is his superior in El Paso had made several calls to this female chaplain basically telling her to get her rear over to the hospital to see us. It kind of made me smile to think of Rob busting somebody's butt over the phone and telling her to get there NOW. She was sweet, and she helped Alex do a lot of the nitty-gritty that I was just too drugged up to think about let alone help with. Not to mention that I slept a lot that afternoon.
The nurses had given us a list of the funeral homes in the area and had circled ones that were close in Plano. Of course, we had absolutely no clue who to pick because we aren't originally from the area and had never buried anyone here (and had never planned to). Alex came into my part of the massive suite we were in in the late afternoon and told me he liked the Distinctive Life Funeral Home because the lady who had picked up the phone had actually talked to him like a human instead of just diving into the business aspects of burying our daughter. This blows me away that Alex could call a funeral home and say, "My daughter passed away and I need to know about funeral arrangements" and people could be so cold as to just dive in to the business side of it. The lady at Distintive Life is named Kenney, and she was an absolute God sent to us. Alex arranged for her to come see us the morning of the 19th, and we'll get to that in a minute.
On the night of the 18th, my parents went back to our house to let my cousin in (who had arrived that morning after Kaitlyn had been taken away), and to meet my Aunt Mary and Uncle Kenney who were driving in from Houston to be with us. My friend Kristin came to see us that night, and she brought Tiffs Treats, which were a total bummer because I was stuck on a liquid diet still at this point or I would have gone face-down in those suckers and not come up for air.
One of my favorite doctors came by to see us that evening, as well. He said that he had just finished up a case, otherwise he would have come earlier. He has six kids of his own, and he has been a big influence on my professional career. It meant a lot to me that he came by the day that Kaitlyn passed and held our hands and said that he was praying for us. Later, some of his office staff told me that he was proud that he was able to visit without having a break down, but that as soon as he got outside our door he started crying for us. Just knowing people care is seriously one of the best comforts we could ask for, and we were blessed to be surrounded by people who took the time to come show us how much we mean to them.
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