Not Just A Mother to Sons...

(note: the post says this was posted on the 16th but really its the 17th. )

Its that time of year again, when I celebrate and remember my little daughter who left our lives way too fast. Today marks 8 years that our Sierra Mae was born still and silent and very, very tiny. Eight years! When I think eight years, I think of how Sierra should be getting baptized in May. (She was suppose to be born around May 1st 2003.)  So much has changed since our first baby came to us for such a short time....

Throughout our lives, we must deal with change. Some changes are welcome; some are not. There are changes in our lives which are sudden, such as the unexpected passing of a loved one, an unforeseen illness, the loss of a possession we treasure. But most of the changes take place subtly and slowly.

Day by day, minute by minute, second by second we went from where we were to where we are now. The lives of all of us, of course, go through similar alterations and changes. The difference between the changes in my life and the changes in yours is only in the details. Time never stands still; it must steadily march on, and with the marching come the changes.  President Monson

Back then... I was taking my last college class to finish my associates degree. It was statistics and I had a super nice (and cute!) math teacher. The final exam got snowed out and was rescheduled for the day we were going back to the specialist to check on Sierra and attempt another amnio on me. I asked Professor Lukie if I could take the test in the testing center the day before. So on Dec 15th I took the final. On Dec 16 I found out my baby had died. I was a graduate. I never did walk down the aisle because I was in grief but I do regret that now since I have never went to any graduation.

Back then.... I was working at the mall at the San Francisco Music Box Company. My boss and I were pregnant at the same time. She was a bit further along then me. Before I got pregnant I was always so busy with going to school full time, working part time, and having internships. But at the time I was pregnant with Sierra I was preparing to be a stay-at-home mom. I only had 1 school class and was just working part time until I would stop at some point during my pregnancy. I remember feeling bad that I couldn't work during the busy Christmas season because of my grief. And I remember how it was hard to go back to work, especially seeing so many pregnant women in the mall. And knowing your co-workers just don't know what to say or do around you.  

Back then... I was serving in the Young Women program in my ward as a Mia Maid advisor and also the camp director. I remember wondering out loud to my good friend Amber, who was in the presidency, if I could possibly do camp the following year with a young baby. (Shudder- now I would never even consider such a thing!) When Sierra died, I think it was a new experience for the YW leaders that I served with and they didn't know what to tell the girls. So they told them nothing. Finally it was pointed out that the YW needed to know before I came back to church and she told them. I remember a short time later baring my testimony to the YW, with lots of tears on my part. 

Back then... my dad was getting really sick. The day I gave birth to Sierra he had surgery. He was in Delaware. I was in Baltimore. Then a few months later, on what should have been Sierra's due date, I was at Brian's grandfather's funeral in Alabama. I gave my in-laws Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness pins to wear that day. When I got home I received a phone call that my dad was really sick and needed my help. It was a lot of trauma for a long time helping him. He was dying of liver failure due to Hepatitis C. It was rough. What a rough period of my life. But that is another story for another day. (He ended up not dying and getting a liver transplant while I was pregnant with Garrett.)

Back then... we decided to move to a new county. We wanted to get away from the city and we wanted to buy a house we could afford. We also wanted to be closer to Brian's family, especially considering we though we might have a child with special needs. We put our depoist down while I was pregnant with Sierra. We ended up moving into our new rental townhome in Bel Air about 3 months after Sierra's death. I remember helping unload the moving truck and seeing the expressions on the face of church members who were helping us when they pulled out a box that said Crib on it. They were concerned that I must be pregnant and I was helping to move heavy boxed. But I wasn't pregnant, not any more. Moving to a new place during this time was a bit hard. I was all alone. No school, no job, no baby. A soon to be sick father. And no one knew about my baby and how fragile I was right then. What was I and what role did I have to identify myself as? I spent a lot of time crying. Brian went to work. I was home alone. I spent a lot of time on the computer. It was  rough. And I felt so awkward. A married person. A mother but not a mother. Its hard to make friends and feel connected to anyone in a state like that.

Now it is 8 years later. Things are so different. I am in the thick of parenting. On any given month my days are spent homeschooling, cub scouting, helping breastfeeding moms, attending birth circles or potlucks for homebirthers, taking Garrett to speech, occupational therapy, playdates, co-op, field trips, serving in the church, vacuuming crumbs off the floor for the 10th time in a week, washing cloth diapers and too much laundry, soothing a teething baby, laughing at my cute little toddler saying "hi" to people in Target. I have two boys. I love my boys. I love being a mom to boys. My days are filled with being mom. Almost all my hobbies, passions, and interests are directly related to being a mom. And frankly, I have to thank my Father in Heaven for giving me Sierra to teach me, to help form me into who I am today. I know I am a better mom. A more conscious mom. Better educated (because I learned to ask questions and research) and I am more aware of what type of mom I want to be. I am so thankful for wonderful, low risk pregnancies. For healthy babies, with the correct amount of chromosomes! I am more compassionate to others. And hopefully my testimony is stronger for it all too. I learned a bit of the way God works. Of how He can put things and people in your path to help you along the way. Like a young woman's leader who I adored as a teen who shared with our little class way back when how her little twins died. She gave birth to them and held them in the palm of her hands. And how that YW leader, although now across the country, was still there to support me when I went through it...... I can thank the Lord that good things came out of sad things.   

So here I am. A mom to boys.

But I am a mom to a girl too. Its just different. This year is I find myself wondering, what would a baby girl B. look like? How would it be like to raise a girl? Now that I see how different Tristan and Garrett are in personality, I really wonder what would Sierra have been like? So what would motherhood look like with a little girl in my house?  I am sad because I think I will never have another girl (because supposedly we aren't having more babies.) I'll have to depend on daughter-in-laws to take that roll (I better start praying for awesome daughter-in-laws who love me and don't think of me in a dreadful way.)  

One of my saddest regrets (that I had no control over) is that I didn't get more time with Sierra. I would have loved to have carried her full term even though we knew she would die. I just wanted more time. And I would love to have been able to see what she really looked like, to see her hair, to be able to say "she looks like....", to be able to have at least 1 photo I felt comfortable sharing with others. To have been able to hold her in my arms and not just my hands. I still am sad that the Lord took her away so quickly. But it was His will and I can see too that my dad needed me when Sierra should have been born. And if Sierra was born in May, like my due date indicated, things would have been a lot different and rougher for my dad and me.

So I think this is the end of my post. Except I have decided to share a few things from the past. One is a poem I wrote called My Motherhood. I'm not a poet, so don't expect greatness, but it depicts what my Motherhood was like-a stark contrast to the realities of my current state of motherhood. (Sadly I don't have the exact date I wrote it. The computer says it was last modified Jan 2004 but that doesn't mean much to me.)

I'm also going to share some pictures. I don't have many pictures and many are poor quality- this was before we had a digital camera. I do  hesitate to share these because they are sad. I used to look at them all the time and not feel weird for sharing them. But they are incredibly sad looking to me now.  But I think its time to share them again. (And as a side note, I have never in 8 years watched the video we made when I was in the hospital giving birth to Sierra. But last week I took my videos to the camera shop to get them converted to DVDs. When I get them back I think I'm finally going to watch the video. )   Now for the poem and pictures...

My Motherhood.

I am a mother who… 

Loved and cherished you, my sweet child, no matter what disability of the body you had. I was willing to do anything to give you the best chance at life.

(I dreamed of helping you reach your fullest potential, no matter what that potential was)

I am a mother who…

Prayed to the Lord pleading to please let my child live. To grow up with me and Daddy. But then humbly prayed only for the Lord’s will and not mine to be done.

(Knowing that He has all power and knows so much more then my small mortal perspective can see or comprehend)

I am a mother who…

Had faith that the Lord really was in control and you are one of His special spirit children.

(For the Lord told me so. How then should I doubt?)

I am a mother who…

Had hope even when there appeared to be none.

(At times it was hard to find hope. But faith is dead without hope.)

I am a mother who…

Ensured that your small body was respected and cared for.

(For it was the temple of your spirit, if only for a short time. And will one day be made

 perfect and resurrected.)

I am a mother who…

Willingly shared you with your grandparents and aunt despite that our time was       so short together.

(For I could have never let you out of my arms, knowing that mommy and daughter time was already limited.)

And I’m a mother who…

thinks you are the cutest six inch baby to have ever been born. And perfect in every way.

(Despite what the doctors say.)

  

I am a mother who…

Chose to love even though it surely meant certain heartache.

(For what they say, “Better to love and have lost then to never loved at all,” is true.)

 And now that you are gone…

I am a mother who preserves your memory.

(I will never forget you Sierra Mae.)

And now that you are gone…

I ask Heavenly Father to bless you with strength and energy to fulfill your  heavenly mission.

(For I know your task must be hard.)

And in my prayers I remind you to “be good and remember I love you,” even though I know you already know!

 I love despite the pain. I miss you with all my heart .

(Only a mother can say that)

I am a mother.

I pray that we will be sustained until we meet again.     

These pictures are from our first ultrasound, where it was very obvious that she had a chromosomal problem.  The pictures of her hand and feet are special to me because these pictures were not originally given to me. When she was born the nurses tried to get a foot print for me but they were unable to. So I went back to the specialist and asked for the picture of her foot. The Dr. was so sweet and gave me a bunch more pictures to keep, these two included. If you notice in the first picture that outline around her head and body, that is bad stuff. Its fluid build up. 

 

This is me three weeks later waiting for the next ultrasound. This is when we found out she died. I sort of had suspicions. Yes, I am smiling. When bad things are happening I can't always be serious. That is my mother-in-law, Clara as well.

A few minutes later from the last picture. All curled up, already at peace

 (ok, do you see why ultrasounds are a bit anxiety producing for me? These were my first and only experiences with ultrasounds during pregnancy. And this is also why its a pet peeve of mine when people say "we are going to see the sex of our baby today!" Because really, you are going to see if your baby looks normal and healthy or abnormal and unhealthy.)  

 The night I was being induced. Below: My mom, mom-in-law, and sister-in-law. They eventually all went back to my house late at night. Sierra was born early on the 17th while Brian and I slept. My water broke and she was delivered right then. I was really drugged and had a hard time keeping my eyes open. I had to send her away until I could sleep off the medication.

Holding Sierra Mae

Holding Sierra Mae

Grandmas holding her. I don't know why this picture came out so terrible.

If you read this terribly long post... thank you for letting me share. When I share I feel I am keeping some of her memory alive.

Celebrating Womenhood!?

Well, Tristan is just 2 days shy of 13 months and a much watched for and anticipated milestone is upon me. I've suspected to reach this milestone "any day now" for a month. My anticipation started the week of Tristan's first birthday, as I thought, "surely it will happen soon." But no, it alluded itself for one more month. Then for the past week I started having very strong suspicions that it surely was upon me. And now tonight, yup, it has arrived.

My menstrual cycle is back. Is this perhaps the final stage of the life cycle of my pregnancy? Well, no, I think weaning would be the final stage.) But it is certainly monumental.

With my very first pregnancy with Sierra Mae, which ended with a loss at 20 weeks, my period returned so quickly it felt so wrong! How could I go from being pregnant, to not being pregnant, to having my milk come in, to having my period so fast??! I suppose from a biological stand point, when breastfeeding didn't happen my body got the message that there was no baby, and well, if there is no baby, lets work on making another one! With my second pregnancy with Garrett, my post-labor bleeding lasted a full 6 weeks. I was going up and down the steps and lifting stuff way too much. Lesson learned. But once that was finally over, my period didn't return until the week Garrett turned a year old. I was pretty happy with that even though I knew many breastfeeding moms who enjoyed an even long hiatus then a year. I was a bit envious. I would even occasionally run into mothers at our local La Leche League meetings whose fertility had not returned who were wanting to get pregnant. I did however, have one unfortunate friend whose period returned within a few months of her baby's birth despite exclusive and very frequent breastfeeding. At least that wasn't me! Poor girl. With my 3rd baby, Tristan, my post pardum bleeding went away a lot easier and went away quicker this time thanks to not lifting anything or doing steps for 2 weeks and fully relishing the "baby moon." But I unexpectedly started bleeding, slightly, again somewhere around 6-8 weeks PP. I called my midwife.  Is my period returning already?? Am I the unfortunate one this time? Or am I doing too much and my body is still not all back together? She told me she had recently had a string of moms whose period returned early despite exclusive breastfeeding. I finally went in for my last check up and I was spotting. But my uterus was back to normal and the midwife said everything looked great- and I was feeling great (except for some PP.)  But then just like that it was gone. I had a total of two very light spouts of period-like bleedings for 5 days and then it went away.

And now it has returned. Probably for good now. Am I really happy about it? Well, no. No I am not. Having your period isn't something the modern day young lady is ever taught to appreciate. But I told myself months and months ago that when my cycle returned I would try to embrace it and celebrate it. If not for the actual event, then at least for what it means. I want to (try) to extend my new found respect and revere that I have discovered for my body, myself, and for the process of giving life which my natural, conscious pregnancy and homebirth with Tristan has taught me.

So here it is: Having my menses return reminds me that I have a life giving, functioning womb. My menses is one vital part necessary for me to bring my precious babies into the world. This signifies that I (most likely) can surely get pregnant again at this point, if I so desired. What joy that really is! The gift of fertility. Of every month my body preparing a safe, nutritious place for my new baby to grow if I did happen to conceive a new life. And when it doesn't happen, it cleans up and starts all over again! Even though I don't want to get pregnant right now (and maybe never will have the chance again?!) I am grateful and honored to have the blessing of fertility. Having my menses return gives me reason to ponder, once again, how amazing my body is. What amazing bodies Heavenly Father has created for us. The more I learn about fertility, conception, pregnancy, labor, birth, and lactation the more amazed I am at these tabernacles of clay. And to think that there is still so much to be discovered about how our bodies help us rise to the challenge of being mothers. And how our bodies help us to be mothers in complete love, adoration, and attachment with our babies, in ways we don't fully understand yet..

Here is to the ability to get pregnant and to bring other sweet babies into the world....even if I don't ever get another chance.

Now, if anyone has any ideas how I can celebrate this milestone in a meaningful way, in a way that embraces womanhood, let me know! I think I will add a quilt square to my Blessingway art mural.

Birth Choices. Time For A Change

"I want to thank you for seeing me during my pregnancy as a back-up OB for my planned homebirth with a midwife. Even though I only went to your office twice, it was very comforting having a place to go for an ultrasound and to have your services available just in case a complication would arise during my pregnancy. I realize that in the current political climate surrounding homebirth and health care it can be risky professionally for an OB to provide services to women like me who seek out alternative care during our pregnancies. So it is with great appreciation that I thank you for doing the uncommon thing of providing medical back-up! It truely was comforting knowing that I would have a point of entrance into the medical system if the need were to arise."

It felt rediculiously great to finally get this thank you note, along with a gift card to Starbucks, and a picture of my cute little boy into the mail to the Dr who provided me with back-up OB care for my homebirth. I hope that expressing my gratitude to his male OB does at least a little in way of making midwifery and homebirth a bit more accessible to women every where.

I dream of the day when women can truely be given free choice to seek the type of medical care they desire for their pregnancies and birth. A day when all midwives can work legally with-in the law, a law that recognizes the validity of midwives. A day when women living in New York, Maryland, New Mexico, and all states will have the same rights and privileges to seek the services of a midwife. A day when that midwife can have full access to medical resources so they can provide the mother with the best care they deserve. So that when babies do come too early or when a complication does arises a women can go to the hospital and her midwife can accompany that mother with out fear.  

Its time women have a choice and a voice. Its time we take back our pregnancy and birth experiences. Whether that birth is in the hospital or at home or in a birthing center. With a midwife or an OB. Whether that pregnancy ends in the saddest or scariest day of our life when we have a miscarriage or stillbirth or give birth to a sick baby who may or may not live or be handicapped. Or whether that pregnancy ends up being one of our happiest days ever when we give birth to a healthy, fat baby.

Its time for politics to stop dictating our births. Hospitals need to stop banning thing like VBACs. Its time for hospitals to stop insisting women receive certain mandatory interventions and instead reserve those intervention for when they are truely needed.  Its time for OBs to take a step back and allow midwives their rightful place once again in the world of "catching babies." (And not just pseudo midwifery care provided in the hospital- where hospital policies tend to force midwives to provide "watered down" midwifery care.) And most of all, its time women are given the chance to make truely informed choices and then get full support from our laws and the health care system in that decision. It is time!

And lastly, it is time we women learn that we are powerful, strong, birthing machines. That our bodies are amazingly designed to give birth. That pregnancy and birth are normal, natural processes. That "babies come out!" Yes, things can and do go wrong in the process and at these times it is a great blessing to have all manner of medical intervention. But let us remember (or realize perhaps for the first time) that the process matters. A healthy baby and mama are most supreme but the process matters. Pregnancy and birth can be one of the most empowering experiences a women will ever go through. 

I hope to do a part in bringing this vision to fruition. Even if my part is tiny and perhaps insignificant in the scheme of things.  

"As women, we are inherently both power-filled and power-full. Each one of us knows on some level that we do have awesome strength at our core." --from the book Mother Rising

   

7 Years Ago Today....(post 1 of 2)

Today marks 7 years since my little girl, Sierra Mae, was born silently into this world. Each year I'm amazed that it was so long ago that I was pregnant with her. Today I find myself wondering what it will be like to one day say "its been 15 yrs...20 yrs..."

As always, I have found the days and weeks leading up to this anniversary date more emotional then the actual day. It always seems to happen to me this way. This does leave her birthday a pretty peace day (except this is always a hectic time of year and I'm always feeling like I don't have enough time to truely stop and to honor her memory.) This year I've really felt the need to revisit and remember the events around her life more then I have the past few years. I think this is due to the fact that I had another pregnancy, another birth, and a new child enter into my life this year. I also have many friends who have lost babies at various stages of pregnancy this year. My heartaches for them and when I hear of their loss I am always reminded of my Sierra, my loss and my own heartache. I think this re-visitation of my own experiences and my own grief must be another step in the healing process. Its a moment to take stock of what I've gone through and to further assimilate the experience into my life...to understand who I am and how I came to be.

My Sierra was my first child. I had wanted her so badly. We were so excited to be parents and Brian just knew we were having a girl. My pregnancy, although too short, was wonderful. I really had such a good pregnancy...except the actual outcome! She had a chromosomal problem called Trisomy 18 that effected her body so badly that she wasn't growing properly at all, possibly had major defects in her heart, and her body was unable to handle normal fluids which caused edema, especially around her head\neck and around her heart. It was the fluid build up that caused her actual death.

We learned at 17 weeks that she was "sick" with a chromosomal problem but at that time the doctors were not sure which one. Their educated guess was Turners Syndrome or Trisomy 18. Three short weeks later she died. I was very fortunate to have those three weeks, although they were weeks full of anxiety, uncertainty, feeling hopeful and then feeling realistic, then to feel guilty for not having hope... (and on and on). Those 3 weeks gave me time to connect with my child and very importantly, I was able to research and talk to other mothers who had gone through high risk pregnancies. I learned that if my baby died anytime soon I could give birth to her. This knowledge ended up being such a blessing because my OB was not very sensitive to us or our feelings and tried to strong arm me into going to a different hospital to have a Dilation and Evacuation performed. But instead, I stuck to my guns (with the help of a wonderful specialist who supported us) and I was able to give birth to my little daughter.

She was tiny for her gestational age- only 6 inches long- and it was evident that her body was effected greatly by that extra chromosome. But at the same time, she was perfect. Tiny but perfect arms, legs, 10 tiny toes and 10 fingers. Tiny eyes and mouth. I"m so thankful for the chance I had to hold her and I know one day her body will be healed and will grow and she will be beautiful.

I had so wanted to carry her to term even though I knew she would die no matter what. (Trisomy 18 is considered "incompatible with life." Many babies with T18 are miscarried or stillborn.but some babies do bless us for a time with their presence on earth for a time. Sadly though, of those babies who are born alive, only about 10% live to see their 1st birthday. ) To this day I still would have chosen to carry her to term even if she would never have taken a breath. I wanted as much time with her as possible. I'd give so much to have felt her kick and move, to be able to talk to her through out my pregnancy, and then to have held her being much bigger and to really know what she looked like, to have pictures I could share with others and display in my home, and to have a proper place to go visit her. Alas, I'm thankful for the time I did have and I"m thankful I did get to hold her and take pictures of her. Instead of having her pictures displayed in our home we have a quilt made with love and tears by her maternal grandmother. I have other trinkets around our house that remind me of Sierra. Instead of having a grave to visit we have a memorial garden to visit created by loving and sensitive employees of Harbor Hospital.

Sierra Mae was- and still is- very real to me. I have felt her spirit and know she is a very sweet little girl. One day we will have her present with us again.

Please visit www.trisomy18.org to learn more about Trisomy 18 (the second most common chromosomal defect), and to read of about some amazing little children. Also, visit www.missfoundation.org for general info and support on pregnancy and infant loss.

(pictures in this post are taken at Harbor Hospital's memory angle garden. I'm very thankful for the hospital creating this garden and for the memorial services they have for their angle babies born at the hospital. I don't visit often but am so happy to have some place to go in her memory. Today I tied ribbons on the tree in memory of Sierra and all of the children my friend's have lost this year. I was going to do ornaments but didn't have time to make them so decided ribbons would look lovely too.) 

Birth Conversation with Garrett

Garrett was in the bathtub and I was trying to wash his hair. He told me to close my eyes and he was going to surprise me by putting his head under the water. He was just trying to trick me though. He has never put his head under the water that I know of. The conversation that followed went something like this.

(Picture of Garrett right after birth.)

Me: Are you trying to work up the courage to put your head under the water?
Garrett: I'm scared too.
Me: You have never tried it.
Garrett: Once I did, when I came out of your uturus* I was born into the water.
Me: No you were not Garrett. You were born in a bed in the hospital.
Garrett: No I wasn't, I was born in the water.
Me: No you were not. You were born in the hospital on a bed, not at home.
Garrett: Why
Me: Because I didn't know I could have you at home. Then I learned I could give birth at home so I had Tristan at home.
Garrett: Oh. So when you brought me home daddy saw me and wanted to name me Garrett?
Me: Actually, dad was there with me when you were born. And we named you Garrett before you were born. We had an ultrasound and knew you were a boy and named you Garrett.
Garrett: Oh.

(Garrett the day we brought him home from the hospital.)

(Background for those who don't know. Garrett's little brother was born almost 2 mo ago at home in a birthing tub. We didn't know he was a boy until he was born (well actually daddy knew but no one else did) and we did not decide on his name until at least an hour after his birth.)

* We do our best to use proper names when talking to Garrett about body parts (athough he is also familiar with common slang names for body parts.) In the months leading up to Tristan's birth we talked bout the birthing process, watched some videos, read books, and Garrett went to every prenatal visit with me. He was also there at Tristan's birth (holding the phone with the midwife on speaker phone) and he also cut Tristan's cord.