Thursday, August 8, 2013
Just another afternoon
So....you're almost 35 weeks pregnant and have a "bad back." Every step is a struggle and just plain hurts. You finally manage to get your protesting toddler into his car seat to go pick up your kiddos from school. Then he falls asleep for 5 minutes on the way to school, since he doesn't nap any longer. You get there and must then carry in 29 lbs. of dead weight across the parking lot to the doors since your child's school has no parent pick up line and the close spaces have been taken up by those who don't have young children to bring with them. You get inside and your toddler wakes up crying, in a horrible mood, and then tries to run off down the hallway into the school bldg. You manage to snag the back of his shirt (a small miracle since you certainly cannot chase him!) and then get his arm when he decides to drop to the floor in a full-blown 2-year-old tantrum. Since people need to walk through the hallway, you force your very pregnant belly and bad back to bend over and lift your 29 lb., screaming, flailing child out of the floor. You take several hard kicks to the stomach and then hold back the tears from the pain as you carry your wild child back to the designated waiting area in the cafeteria. As soon as you attempt to sit down, he tries to run again. So you pick him up and try your best to distract and calm him. After a few rounds of this, one of your children FINALLY shows up. You then go outside to wait for your other child to get off the bus from the other school. Your escape-crazed toddler decides to run as fast as he can toward the bus loop because he wants to get on one of the busses. He loves anything with wheels! You are very thankful for your 8-year-old daughter since she tries to retrieve your toddler and help her mother who is hobbling along behind her. She manages to slow him down but is no match for his screaming and protesting. You catch up to them both and pick up your once-again flailing toddler. FINALLY your other child appears and you can leave! But it's a long walk to your vehicle with a toddler in tantrum mode. You can't set him down because there are cars coming and going and you know he will run. By the time you reach your vehicle, you are sweating like a mouse at a cat convention and are in too much pain to care about the stares you're getting from everyone passing by. You perform a WWF wrestling move to get your toddler into his car seat because that it THE LAST place he wants to be. You drag yourself into the driver's seat and leave school, breathing like you just climbed Mt. Everest. Your older children start to argue and you tell them if they ever want to watch another minute of TV in their lives, they better not say another word. You get 5 minutes down the road and then realize....your gas tank is on empty. You pull off, turn your vehicle around, and pray that God helps you make it back to the gas station. Amazingly, you make it to the gas station, send up a word of thanks, and turn to tell your two older children.....tomorrow...you're riding the BUS!
Tuesday, March 26, 2013
Meet Gizmo!
If you are interested in giving little Gizmo a loving, forever home, let me know. This little guy has been through a lot. He is a fighter and a survivor. He deserves a wonderful home!
Monday, November 12, 2012
I am a mother of FOUR!
As any grieving mother knows, there is one question that never fails to create a stir of emotion. "How many children do you have?" The dreaded question! I know my answer may surprise a few, but at this point in my life...the answer is FOUR. No, I am not so out of touch with reality that I have some weird assumption that my deceased daughter is still here with me, physically. Trust me; I am VERY aware of her absence. But she is still my daughter. I am still her mother. We are separated, only temporarily. I have carried FOUR children to term (or nearly to term). I have given birth (one way or another) FOUR times. I have nursed (both literally and figuratively) FOUR children. I have FOUR baby books...FOUR keepsake boxes....and FOUR sets of memories of going to the hospital and meeting my newest child. I remember FOUR first smiles...first giggles...first time sleeping through the night, etc. I celebrate FOUR children's birthdays and FOUR children are always on my mind and in my heart. I AM A MOTHER OF FOUR! When older children go away to college or elsewhere, a mother does not stop including those children in her count when she answers the "how many children do you have" question. So why should I? I am not delusional. I am not crazy. I am just a blessed mother of FOUR and unless God chooses to somehow add to that number, that is what I will forever be!
Friday, June 8, 2012
DETERMINATION
Wow, has it really been nearly 9 months since I posted here? Life has sure been busy, but what a blessing! So many people have asked me about my weight loss and how I’ve managed to lose 43 lbs. I decided to write about it with the hope that it might help at least one person to begin to make the changes that will lead to a healthier life.
WHAT WENT WRONG
I was a slender child and teen and always active. My wedding
dress (married at age 20) was a size 3. Then in my early 20s, I started having
some health issues. My weight started going up, as my confidence went down. I
married a man who could eat ANYTHING and not gain a pound. Infertility didn’t
help. The meds helped me put on even more weight. Then, after 3 years of
trying, I became pregnant with McKenna. About 20 weeks into the pregnancy, I
started having horrible back pain. I knew pregnancy was supposed to come with
back pain, but this was really, really bad. After delivery, it improved some
but still caused problems from time to time. During my 2nd pregnancy,
it was worse. I was trying to care for a toddler and sometimes unable to walk.
I remember crawling around the house some days to take care of McKenna because
I just couldn’t get around any other way. I started using a cane on really bad
days, and lifting McKenna was often enough to bring tears to my eyes. I tried
physical therapy, but it didn’t do much. Doctors kept telling me it was just
typical pelvic separation pain from pregnancy. I know now that it was much more
than that. During my pregnancy with Gabby, it was worse. And when I was
pregnant with Lincoln, I ended up in a wheelchair and using a walker sometimes.
It wasn’t until after he was born that I found out about the L5 fracture, disc
slippage, and other issues. I had 3 epidural steroid injections with the hope
of avoiding or at least delaying spinal fusion surgery (and that is still
uncertain). Exercising had been painful for years, so I certainly didn’t do
much of it. Added to the mix was joint/muscle problems and the mental stress
that comes with losing a child. After years of being unable to do so, I finally
had a sleep study and discovered moderate-severe sleep apnea and periodic limb
movement disorder. I had to start using a CPAP machine because my brain was
being deprived of oxygen during sleep. No wonder I was always sooooooo tired!
For two years, I struggled with gallbladder issues. I had daily pain and
attacks (some near as painful as childbirth or maybe worse), and never could
get a doctor to look at my gallbladder because the lab results did not point to
an issue. FINALLY, I got the right doc and an ultrasound showed a ton of
gallstones and an enlarged spleen (still have to have my spleen checked).
Surgery was scheduled, and I FINALLY got rid of that darn gallbladder three
weeks ago. No more daily abdominal pain! Dealing with that pain in addition to
everything else had really started to take a toll on me.
There have been many times when I thought about having
weight loss surgery. But I knew that the surgery would do nothing for me if I did
not first conquer the obstacles in my mind. I don’t believe in quick fixes, at
least for myself. I knew that weight loss surgery should be a LAST RESORT, and
I knew I hadn’t really put everything
I had into trying to get healthier. Sure, I’d “tried” a few times. Sure, I
could have told the doctors that nothing would work for me, but I knew that
would be cheating myself. I do believe there are situations where people really
do need weight loss surgery. Some people simply cannot lose weight by eating
smarter and exercising more. And some people are not physically able to
exercise. Some people do not have the mental ability to eat smarter. There’s
nothing wrong with that, and in those situations, surgery is a very valid
option. But for me, surgery just wasn’t needed.
It seems that everywhere we look, there are diet pills, plans, and magic potions up for grabs for just the right price. Most of the time, those things are just a bunch of hogwash. There are some very helpful programs like Weight Watchers, for example. But even those things are not usually necessary. It all comes down to hard work and determination.
It seems that everywhere we look, there are diet pills, plans, and magic potions up for grabs for just the right price. Most of the time, those things are just a bunch of hogwash. There are some very helpful programs like Weight Watchers, for example. But even those things are not usually necessary. It all comes down to hard work and determination.
A DOSE OF REALITY AND
INSPIRATION
After being prescribed the CPAP machine, I started to really
think about my health. I was heavier than ever and had somehow put on about 20
lbs. after each baby. One day I was thinking about Gabby and what a fighter she
was. Then it occurred to me that I was a fighter too. I’d been told that the
child I was carrying had major complex heart defects and Down syndrome. I’d
cared for her while she was medically fragile and fought like crazy to make
sure she was getting the care she needed through early intervention. I’d handed
her over to surgeons to let them cut her open and stop her heart. I’d held her
in my arms as she died. I’d made her funeral arrangements and stood by her tiny
lifeless body at the services. I'd gone home to her empty room, all her things, and so many memories. I’d watched her big sisters cry for her and
endure the nightmares and fears that go along with losing a sibling and
realizing CHILDREN CAN DIE TOO. After all I’d been through, I was still
standing. I had not turned to drugs or alcohol. I had not given up on life.
I was still fighting every day to get up out of the bed, put on a smile, and
take care of my 3 living children and all their unique needs. I realized what a
huge accomplishment that was and that I was stronger than I’d ever known.
That’s when it hit me; I CAN get myself
in better shape. If I can watch my daughter DIE and still have enough of my
mind left to raise 3 other children, I can do just about anything. I knew God
would be there every step of the way, and I prayed for His help. I knew He’d
been there to hold me up through everything I’d endured so far. I knew Gabby
would want me to feel better and enjoy raising her siblings. I HAD to do this.
I HAD to get healthier…for me…for Gabby…and for my family.
THE FIRST STEPS
So, I started small. First, I decided to eliminate all soda
and juice. I’d never been much of a soda drinker before, but Jason buys it from
time to time. I’d have a glass of Pepsi occasionally and I probably drank juice
once or twice a day. I knew that was a lot of calories that I didn’t need. So
for one week, I drank no soda and no juice. Interestingly, a week later I’d
lost a couple of pounds and gained a whole lot of confidence. The next week, I
decided to cut out chips. I had become very fond of sitting down with a bag of
chips and a jar of dip and eating until I just couldn’t eat any more. I knew
that was so unhealthy, so I stopped. A week later, I added yet another “rule.”
I would ONLY eat salads at fast food restaurants. No burgers and fries. At some
point, I also stopped eating anything after dinner. I’d been in the habit of
snacking until bedtime, and I was adding so many calories that way. It had to
stop. After 35.5 years of not drinking coffee, I started drinking it (decaf of
course). Rather than eating after dinner, I’d drink coffee or green tea and
sweeten it with zero-calorie Splenda. With each new “rule”, I became more and
more confident. I began to realize that I COULD change things. I began to
believe in myself. I began to see junk food as toxic and something that was standing
in the way of me taking care of my family. I started to crave GOOD foods.
CRITICAL POINT
Before I knew it, I’d dropped 10 lbs. Then I hit a bit of a
plateau and thought I’d never get past it. I know now that I was at a critical
point. In the past, that’s when I would have given up and grabbed a bag of
chips to eat away my disappointment. But this time…I just didn’t. I kept on
going. In fact, I started adding some exercise. I did some of my physical
therapy exercises and gradually increased the intensity. Then I registered with
a free website called everydayhealth dot com. I was able to track every
calorie, and I quickly learned that it was crucial to getting healthier. I
tracked EVERY SINGLE THING I ate. I started out at 1800 calories per day. I have
adjusted that since then, as a lighter body needs less calories. I am now
limiting myself to 1500 calories per day. I won’t lie. Sometimes I’d give my
pinky toe to have a McDonald’s cheeseburger and fries. The cravings are intense
sometimes, as my body is still trying to adjust to the changes. But every time
I get discouraged or feel weak, I remind myself of Gabby and how I am one very
strong woman to be able to put one foot in front of the other after all I’ve
been through. Everyone has something that can inspire them. Maybe you’ve
survived cancer. Maybe you’ve made it through a very low point in life. Maybe
you’ve raised a family and watched them blossom as adults. Maybe you’ve kicked
a drug habit or helped someone else when they were in a very tough situation.
Whatever you’ve accomplished in life…let THAT inspire you. If you could do
those things, you can do THIS! God can and will help too!
GET MOVING
After a month or so, I decided I HAD to add some kind of
cardio workout. We don’t have the money (or the time) for me to join a gym. We
have no space or funds for exercise equipment. So, I just put on my tennis
shoes and hit the road. Jason mowed me a path through the field behind our
house. It leads to a dead-end road where only one family lives. I can walk the
roads near my house and sometimes never even meet a vehicle. Gotta love rural!
At first, I was afraid of what the walking would do to my back. And yes, there
are times when it just plain hurts. BUT…the fresh air and the exercise are
doing wonders for me. Part of my walk is uphill, and I love the strain it puts
on my legs because I know it is making me a healthier person. When I get to the
top of the hill, there are some pretty amazing views. That makes it worth the
walk, and I love seeing rabbits and other little critters out and about. I am a
country girl, through and through, and being able to see the beautiful,
peaceful farmland is such a blessing. At first, I started walking for only 5
minutes. I’m serious. Just 5 minutes! Now, I am up to a 20 minute walk. And I’m
talking serious walking the entire time…not stopping to rest here and
there. Four months ago, a walk like that
would have probably left me unable to move for about a week. Now, it seems like
a minimal challenge, and I know I will continue to increase my walking distance
every time. I try to walk 4-5 times per week, and I LOVE to walk at dusk when
it is cooler and Lincoln is already in bed for the night. Sometimes the girls
go with me. It’s great for them, and I enjoy their company. Other times, I just
HAVE to get away by myself. I’ve come to actually ENJOY this exercise, and it
does not feel like a chore at all. It’s a real treat! And I am so thankful that
I am ABLE to walk even if it does come with some pain. I’ve been pretty
immobile and the ability to walk is something I will never again take for
granted.
Cardio is so, so important. If you are able to join a gym
and have the time to go, you are truly blessed. Take advantage of it. If you
live in an area where it is not safe to walk the roads, walk inside your house.
Make laps around the living room. Climb the stairs over and over if you have
stairs. Just get moving! Having a toddler to chase really helps too. :-) I
often tell Jason that Lincoln is part of my exercise routine because I know I burn
a good deal of calories while keeping up with him and keeping him out of
things.
QUALITY, NOT JUST
QUANTITY
While it is extremely important to count calories, all
calories are not the same. I could get my 1500 calories per day in ice cream,
but that wouldn’t do much for my body. Whole grains, fruits, vegetables, and
HEALTHY fats are so important. I don’t eat bread much at all now, but if I do,
it is the 100% whole grain, sugar-free type. For “dessert”, I usually try to
have a fresh fruit or low-calorie “treat” of some kind. Fudgsicles are great!
The “no sugar added” kind have only 40 calories. When I eat one, I feel like
I’ve had my chocolate but I’m not loading up on calories. Still, a better
choice for dessert is fresh fruit, natural applesauce, low-fat light yogurt, or
maybe 2-3 small pieces of DARK chocolate (I like Dove). My former self
considered cakes, cookies, and pies to be desserts. And I think it is FINE to
occasionally indulge (within reason). It just can’t be a daily thing. I allow
myself one meal per week in which I do not count calories. It would be quite
easy for me to just go wild with that meal and end up eating 1000 calories
before I even realized, but I’ve discovered that all the work I’ve put into my
new, healthier self causes me to think twice before I stuff that 4th
piece of pizza in my mouth. Even when I “indulge”, I make good choices and
don’t go too far off course. And I try not to stress out over it. If it causes
me to gain a pound, it’s not the end of the world. Again, cutting soda and juice can make so much
difference and really help with the ability to be able to “indulge” from time
to time. Other than 8 oz. of 1% milk per day, I drink NOTHING other than
calorie-free drinks (water, drinks sweetened with Splenda).
Fats are important too! But fats need to come from sources
such as olive oil, fish, and nuts. I LOVE baked or grilled tilapia fillets with
fresh dill from the garden! YUM! I try to eat some type of fish at least 3
times per week. But it needs to be baked or grilled - not fried and breaded. Nuts
are such a great source of protein and healthy fats. I LOVE natural almonds as
a snack.
As we all know, salads are wonderful! But if we’re not
careful, we’ll pack on hundreds of calories with toppings. Stick to lots of
greens and other fresh veggies, about 1-2 T of a LIGHT, FAT-FREE dressing (I
like Kraft’s raspberry vinaigrette), and
a bit of protein from either a low-fat cheese or natural nuts. If you get a
salad from a fast food restaurant, find out how many calories it has. Remember
to add the calories for the dressing. While the salads are definitely better
choices than burgers, they can have more calories than you expect. Just KNOW
what you are eating, so you can keep an eye on your daily intake.
THE NUMBERS
There are still times when the numbers on the scale just
won’t budge. It is very frustrating, but it happens. I’ve found that it can
sometimes take a week or more to get past a “plateau.” In fact, recently, I
gained 2 lbs. and those stubborn 2 lbs. just wouldn’t go away! Finally, the
numbers started dropping again and then they kept on going down. Plateaus cause
me to question my ability. I start to panic a bit and think, “Oh no! I’m going
to gain all the weight back!” But I have learned to ignore them. Be bigger than the plateau! Don’t let it
intimidate you. Just keep going. Stay focused, and remind yourself that the
numbers are NOT what matters. It’s all about how you feel and those little
things you start to notice, like being able to cross your legs without pain for
the first time in years or climbing a flight of stairs without gasping for
breath.
STILL GOING
I know I have already climbed quite a mountain by losing 43
lbs in 4 months. But I do not feel like my weight loss has ended. My new
healthy habits are permanent changes, so I try not to fixate on what the scale
shows. My body will eventually reach a comfortable weight and remain there as
long as I stick with my new lifestyle and remain fairly healthy. I don’t know
what that ultimate number will be. Let’s face it. I’m nearly 36 years old and
I’ve carried FOUR babies and have had 2 c-sections and a gallbladder removal in
the past 3 years. The word “flat” is never going to apply to my tummy without
the help of plastic surgery. I certainly don’t have the money for that, and I
don’t know that I’d do it even if I did. So, I will just have to love all the
stretch marks and “baby fat” and try not to worry about the visible results of
my new habits. If I feel healthier and am
healthier, that’s all that matters. My children don’t need me to be a size
3. They just need me to be able to play
with them and have the energy to raise them in the best way possible and be
there for them when they have their own families someday. I intend to be that
grandma that stays and helps until they run me off! I know my habits could
still use improvement. I know there are more things I could do to be even
healthier, and I am learning every day. I think Gabby would be proud of her
momma, and that means so much to me. The real tragedy in losing Gabby would be
to let it destroy me. I won’t. I refuse. Instead, I choose to let her inspire
me. We all have choices to make every day, and we must take responsibility for
those choices. I choose to show the world that out of great loss can come
inspiration and hope. I choose to fight rather than give up and give in to
things that just aren’t healthy or right. That’s what I want to teach my
children, after all, so it is up to me to keep going and show them that even
the most horrible grief isn’t a reason to stop fighting for what is right.
To be fair, I should mention that I was 6 months pregnant with Lincoln in the "Before" pic, but within 6 months of delivery, I'd gained back almost all the weight I'd lost since having him.
**In loving memory of Gabrielle Rae “Gabby” Merrick (July 11th,
2009 to November 20th, 2009).**
Friday, September 23, 2011
Well, that explains it!
My little ones have been keeping me very busy, so I haven't had much time to blog lately. I just wanted to post an update.
Jason is working hard, as always. As soon as he finishes a side job, he hopes to finish up the last three parts of his professional exam. Wow! I never imagined it would take this long. He was eligible to take all the tests about eight years ago, after finishing his three year internship. But so much has happened, and the parts of the exam are not free. Studying takes time too. Yes, Jason is a huge procrastinator (and he will be the first to admit it). That hasn't helped, but it certainly isn't the only reason he has not finished his exams.
McKenna is doing well in 4th grade. She tried out for the academic team and was selected. She's so excited, and I think it will be a great experience for her. She'd love to take gymnastics, but that just isn't an option right now. McKenna will be 9 next week!
Olivia is doing well in school, but she doesn't want to go most days. It's a regular struggle, but we're dealing with it.
Lincoln is eight months old now! He's growing so fast! He's a happy little guy, and we're all enjoying him so much. He's crawling everywhere, pulling up, and starting to cruise just a bit. He weighs around 20 lbs.
Me...well...I decided to go to the orthopedic doctor in Lex. about a month ago, as the Danville doc's diagnosis just didn't seem to explain the pain. I figured it couldn't hurt to get a 2nd opinion. I guess I was right. The doc in Danville missed something. I have a spinal fracture of the L5 vertebra. For 10 years, I have struggled with back pain and difficulty walking at times. My pregnancies have been sooooo difficult due to this issue. Caring for my children has been difficult because of my back problems. It affects EVERYTHING, and for all these years, I had no idea my back was broken. The OBs kept telling me that it was "typical" back pain that every pregnant woman has. Then they finally said it must be my pelvis, but they still brushed it off as "typical." But needing a wheelchair while pregnant isn't "typical!"
My official diagnosis is "spondylolysis" or "pars defect." The doc says I was apparently born with a congenital defect that used to be a weakened area or hairline crack. Sometime during my first pregnancy, it became an actual fracture. Since it has gone untreated, I also apparently have some slippage of the vertebra. Usually, spondylolysis is treated with strict rest and possibly a brace or body cast. But that is when it is discovered days or weeks after the symptoms begin. Mine has been untreated for 10 years, so the chances of "recovery" are very slim. I also have SI joint dysfunction and arthritis throughout my back. As if this wasn't enough, I was also informed that I have a congenital abnormality of the tailbone. Mine does not curve at all, as it should. It just goes straight down. So every time I sit down, it presses into nerve-filled tissues. Not fun! That also explains why I was able to break it so easily just by scooting forward in the bathtub when I was 36 weeks preg. with Lincoln.
The doc ordered physical therapy twice a week and also injections for the pain (one type with x-ray guidance). He said he would usually tell someone with these diagnoses to completely rest his/her spine for weeks, but he realizes that is not possible when trying to care for 3 little ones and a home. Spinal fusion surgery is the closest to a "cure" I'll ever get, but the doc said he did not want to go that route because having spinal surgery doesn't go well with being a full-time mommy and homemaker. He said we would "try therapy and injections" before making any more decisions. Because of the numbness I've been having in my hands, arms, and feet for years, the doc referred me to a hand specialist and foot specialist. I am supposed to have nerve conduction testing to see if I have "nerve entrapment" and to determine how the spinal issues have affected my extremities.
I'm still trying to process all this info. It's pretty depressing to realize how bad things could get if I am not able to get the treatment I need. But Jason certainly can't take off work for me to rest my spine or to help with Lincoln every day. So...I'm just doing what I have to do to take care of my children and keep the household going. If nothing else, I am glad to finally know why I have had so much trouble with my back. I just wish it could be fixed.
Jason is working hard, as always. As soon as he finishes a side job, he hopes to finish up the last three parts of his professional exam. Wow! I never imagined it would take this long. He was eligible to take all the tests about eight years ago, after finishing his three year internship. But so much has happened, and the parts of the exam are not free. Studying takes time too. Yes, Jason is a huge procrastinator (and he will be the first to admit it). That hasn't helped, but it certainly isn't the only reason he has not finished his exams.
McKenna is doing well in 4th grade. She tried out for the academic team and was selected. She's so excited, and I think it will be a great experience for her. She'd love to take gymnastics, but that just isn't an option right now. McKenna will be 9 next week!
Olivia is doing well in school, but she doesn't want to go most days. It's a regular struggle, but we're dealing with it.
Lincoln is eight months old now! He's growing so fast! He's a happy little guy, and we're all enjoying him so much. He's crawling everywhere, pulling up, and starting to cruise just a bit. He weighs around 20 lbs.
Me...well...I decided to go to the orthopedic doctor in Lex. about a month ago, as the Danville doc's diagnosis just didn't seem to explain the pain. I figured it couldn't hurt to get a 2nd opinion. I guess I was right. The doc in Danville missed something. I have a spinal fracture of the L5 vertebra. For 10 years, I have struggled with back pain and difficulty walking at times. My pregnancies have been sooooo difficult due to this issue. Caring for my children has been difficult because of my back problems. It affects EVERYTHING, and for all these years, I had no idea my back was broken. The OBs kept telling me that it was "typical" back pain that every pregnant woman has. Then they finally said it must be my pelvis, but they still brushed it off as "typical." But needing a wheelchair while pregnant isn't "typical!"
My official diagnosis is "spondylolysis" or "pars defect." The doc says I was apparently born with a congenital defect that used to be a weakened area or hairline crack. Sometime during my first pregnancy, it became an actual fracture. Since it has gone untreated, I also apparently have some slippage of the vertebra. Usually, spondylolysis is treated with strict rest and possibly a brace or body cast. But that is when it is discovered days or weeks after the symptoms begin. Mine has been untreated for 10 years, so the chances of "recovery" are very slim. I also have SI joint dysfunction and arthritis throughout my back. As if this wasn't enough, I was also informed that I have a congenital abnormality of the tailbone. Mine does not curve at all, as it should. It just goes straight down. So every time I sit down, it presses into nerve-filled tissues. Not fun! That also explains why I was able to break it so easily just by scooting forward in the bathtub when I was 36 weeks preg. with Lincoln.
The doc ordered physical therapy twice a week and also injections for the pain (one type with x-ray guidance). He said he would usually tell someone with these diagnoses to completely rest his/her spine for weeks, but he realizes that is not possible when trying to care for 3 little ones and a home. Spinal fusion surgery is the closest to a "cure" I'll ever get, but the doc said he did not want to go that route because having spinal surgery doesn't go well with being a full-time mommy and homemaker. He said we would "try therapy and injections" before making any more decisions. Because of the numbness I've been having in my hands, arms, and feet for years, the doc referred me to a hand specialist and foot specialist. I am supposed to have nerve conduction testing to see if I have "nerve entrapment" and to determine how the spinal issues have affected my extremities.
I'm still trying to process all this info. It's pretty depressing to realize how bad things could get if I am not able to get the treatment I need. But Jason certainly can't take off work for me to rest my spine or to help with Lincoln every day. So...I'm just doing what I have to do to take care of my children and keep the household going. If nothing else, I am glad to finally know why I have had so much trouble with my back. I just wish it could be fixed.
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
22 things
Here are 22 things you may not know - 22 things this grieving mother needs to share today:
1) It does not matter how much time has passed since Gabby died. The moments surrounding her death are as fresh in my mind as they were on Nov. 20th, 2009. The nightmares still come. I can close my eyes and recall how she felt in my arms. So swollen. So heavy. Not my dainty little sweetheart that I could carry with one arm while unloading dishes or vacuuming. I can remember the smell of the blood. The drainage tubing. The bodily fluids. Hospital hand sanitizer. I can recall the darkness of her arms and legs. So dark purple. They were already dead. She could not feel me holding her hand as I had so many times before. I remember the way my stomach felt. I was nauseated and felt as though I was being crushed by something so heavy. I felt guilty for breathing. I did not want to breathe if it meant my daughter could live. I remember the people outside the PICU room...the nurses..the doctors...family members. I just wanted everyone to leave. I wanted to be alone with Jason and Gabby...in the middle of 1000 acres of nothing. I wanted no distractions because nothing else mattered. But the distractions were there. Questions from staff that seemed so meaningless and horribly out of place. "Mrs. Merrick, we would really like to perform an autopsy on your daughter. We don't know what went wrong. We could learn from this and help others in the future." What? Why are you asking me this? My baby girl is right here...she's still ALIVE! I wanted to shout, "GET OUT!" But something held me back and reminded me that nobody else had any idea how I was feeling.
2) When we came home from the hospital without Gabby, there was her crib. Just like it had been when she'd slept in it 3 days earlier. And the day before that. And the day before. For over 4 months. Her little stuffed doll was still there - the one that always made her smile. She liked to feel of its softness. There was her swing and the little fish she used to gaze at while falling asleep. I wanted to turn it on just to hear that familiar, soothing, tick-tock sound of it swaying from side to side. But I knew it would cause me more pain when I looked and only saw her rattle in the seat. I could not do it. In here room, there was the diaper pail. We'd changed her a few times since emptying it. I wanted to get the diapers out and hold them close, and that thought did not seem anything but beautiful to me. There was her laundry hamper. In it were a few little outfits she'd worn in the few days before her surgery. There was the little sleeper with the rabbit...pink...with the sleeves rolled up because they were too long. It still smelled like spit-up around the collar. I grabbed a couple of spit-up soaked bibs and frantically stuffed them into a baggie. I did not want that scent to escape - ever. I still have them in that baggie. I leaned over Gabby's crib and put my face down into the mattress and I could still smell her. I started sobbing and my knees gave out. Jason was there to keep me up but I really just wanted to be alone. I looked over on the changing table and there was her diaper ointment. I had just used it on her a few days ago. There was the rattle she loved to hold while I changed her diaper. I remember McKenna and Olivia being so excited when they taught her how to hold it. I closed my eyes and I could remember the four of us gathered round that changing table...so many giggles...so many smiles....so much love. I wanted to go back. I just wanted to erase the 3 previous days and go back to when my baby girl was there with us...surrounded by so much love and joy. But I couldn't. Then I began to think of how I was going to pick up the pieces of my girls' broken hearts. I knew I couldn't fix my own. How would I ease their pain and help them to have any faith in anything anymore? They were angry and sad and confused. They had become so attached to their sister. How was I going to get myself through this while also seeing their pain and figure out a way to help them? They were so young. They should not have to go through such pain. One more reason for me to be angry and crushed. I had lost one daughter, and my other two had lost so much of their innocence.
3) Gabby lived for less than 5 minutes after she was taken off the ventilator. Jason and I talked to her in the most gentle and loving way we could. We told her it was okay for her to go on and be with Jesus. We told her she had been a very brave and strong little girl and had brought so much to our family and community. I believe I managed to cry out a verse of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star - the lullaby I sang most often to her. Her last few breaths were soft gasps. I hate the image of the gasping that I have in my mind, but I would not have missed it for anything. I remember the doctor kneeling beside me and putting on his stethoscope to confirm that she had passed. I remember wanting to tell him to leave, though I knew his job was very important and necessary. I knew she was gone. I didn't want to hear him tell me. Those words were so heavy. But he had to say them. I remember holding her for just a while. The nurses wanted to bathe her and asked me if I wanted to help. Of course I did. The nurse filled the little pink hospital basin with baby wash. But it wasn't the lavender kind - the kind we always used. I was upset because Gabby needed her lavender wash! But then I remembered it didn't matter. I wanted them to remove all the fluid-filled tubes coming out of her...and the wires. But they could not. We had to work around them, as they needed to remain in place for the autopsy. The doctors had mentioned wanting to check every detail. I just wanted to hold my daughter with nothing sticking out of her body. But I couldn't. Now...I wish I'd stayed with Gabby longer. I wish I'd taken pictures. I wish I'd known there were organizations that would have done professional pics for us. I just kept thinking, "Gabby is not here now." And I wanted to leave that room, feeling strangely like I would find her somewhere else. I should have stayed. While I know she was not there, the body that I had known as my daughter was still warm. I wish I had held her until they MADE me leave.
4) NEVER ever tell a grieving mother you know how she feels. Unless you have lost a child - you don't. Sure, there are other kinds of loss. And we can all relate to one another through those types of loss. But losing a child is different. Parents are not supposed to bury their children. The loss comes with an extreme sense of failure. I was unable to protect my daughter and keep her alive. As her mother, that was my main purpose. I failed. No matter how silly that may seem to those of you reading this, it is VERY real to me and any other mother who has lost her child...of any age. We carry a certain sense of guilt that we may or may not ever be able to overcome in this lifetime. It is the worst kind of guilt.
5) If I seem distant, it is because my mind is often rewinding to my time with Gabby. Her death. My feelings relating to all of it. Yes I have 3 other wonderful, amazing children that I adore. But they do not replace Gabby. They will never fill the hole that Gabby left in our family. I could have a hundred more children and Gabby would always be missing.
6) If I manage to go through a day without having an emotional breakdown, it's a good day. If I manage to smile or laugh, it's quite an accomplishment. I don't know how long it will be that way.
7) Gabby's grave is a 30 minute drive from my home and in another county. I wish I could go there more than I do, but with 3 other little ones (especially one that has an anxiety disorder that can be triggered by traveling), it just doesn't happen often. There are days when I really wish I could just go sit there for hours. I can remember what her little white casket looked like and what she looked like lying in it in her little pink gown. I have pictures. I remember seeing it lowered 3 feet below the soil. Sometimes I just want to dig through that soil. I recall a story about Abraham Lincoln in which he was said to have dug up his young son...just to hold him one last time. He knew this pain, and perhaps that is one reason why I like our Lincoln's name so much.
8) I am NOT superwoman! It is all I can do to function many days, but I have 3 children and a household to which I need to tend. I love my 3 living children. Two of them have some minor special needs. I do not want to let them down. But just because I am going...going...going all day, every day...doesn't mean I am fine and I am "over" losing my daughter. I am just really good at sucking it up and trying to focus on my blessings - pushing with all my strength to keep the pain and sorrow from overtaking me. I never knew I could be this strong.. God gets ALL the credit for it. If I let myself do what I really feel like doing, there is no telling where I'd be now. Drugs? Alcohol? Worse? I don't know. What I do know is that all those things are the "easy" way out of this pain. I make a choice every day to fight the pain....with prayer and a lot of hard work. I have a family counting on me. I cannot afford to be selfish.
9) In a bag in my house, I have the pink sleeper that I dressed Gabby in after she died. It was the same one she wore the morning of her surgery and so many times before. It has tiny flowers on it. She always looked so beautiful in it. After she died, my hands failed me as I snapped up the snaps. Each one was more difficult than the next. The sound of that final snap echoed through my mind and through the PICU room. I knew I would never again dress my daughter. I recalled all the times she'd pulled her legs up as I tried to get them into a sleeper. She was quite squirmy. But now...no wiggling. No squirming. Only total stillness. I wanted her to MOVE! I could have sworn she opened her eyes, but it was so hard to see through the tears. After Gabby was prepared for her funeral, we were given a bag containing that sleeper...along with a cream colored hospital blanket that her body was wrapped in for transport to autopsy. There are stickers on the sleeper and the bag...with Gabby's name and date of death. Sad reminders of how she was "just another body" to the pathology lab and the morgue. The blanket and the sleeper still smelled like Gabby the last time I sniffed them....many, many months ago. But the scent wasn't the Gabby I remember. It was a little of that mixed with the scents I remember from the moments just before she died. I don't know whether I should be happy to have these items or disgusted by them. I also have a tiny lock of Gabby's hair that Jason and I cut from her head just before her casket was sealed. Oh how I wish I'd cut off more! It's such a tiny amount. Her hair was so soft. So fuzzy. It was something I loved about her. I used to put her head under my chin and then kiss that little fuzzy head....so many times.
10) McKenna and Olivia talk about Gabby very often. They have many memories of her, and sometimes they seem a little sad when they talk about her. McKenna remembers details of the funeral. Olivia often says, "I miss Gabby"...out of the blue.
11) I want to get a very big tattoo that reads, "I HAVE FOUR CHILDREN!" I want it across my forehead. Ok...not really. But you get the idea. It hurts so much for the 5 of us to go somewhere and hear someone say, "Wow...3 little ones! You have your hands full." I want to say, "No I don't. Because I have FOUR children. One is just not here with me, but I wish with every fiber of my being that she was." For someone not to see that I have FOUR children makes me feel as though Gabby didn't count. And that hurts so badly. When children grow up and move away from home, their parents do not stop counting them when asked, "How many children do you have?"...right? Gabby still counts. Just because she's living in Heaven now does not mean she is not a part of my family. We are separated only temporarily.
12) Would Lincoln be here if Gabby had not died? I don't know. I don't think he would, but I just cannot answer that. I always thought we'd only have 2 children even though I wanted more than that. It was the number upon which Jason and I agreed. But then we had 2 girls and we went through 4 years of infertility (and so much heartache month after month after month). We had a new appreciation for children...and for life in general. And we had at least a little desire to have a boy, so we thought we'd give it one more shot. Then we tacked on 26 more months of infertility...another surgery...more tests...more disappointment. And then we were so excited to find out we were pregnant with #3! We were done. Then....Gabby died. And I knew VERY quickly, I was NOT done. We were so fortunate that it only took 5 months...a little more testing...and 3 rounds of fertility meds (which didn't work, by the way). I truly think God knew we could not handle a lengthy 4th round of infertility only a month after our daughter died.
13) Feeling as though Gabby has been forgotten by the rest of the world is so difficult. I LOVE to hear others talk about her. It helps me realize she DID make a difference.
14) In Lincoln's room, there is a small square on the wall where lavender paint remains...surrounded by a sea of baby blue. That room still belongs to Gabby too, and that square reminds us of that.
15) I kept all of Gabby's clothes, and I do not plan to part with them.
16) The day Gabby died, I was changed forever.
17) I still have a daily struggle with feeling as though we should have taken Gabby to a different doc and a different hospital. Unfortunately, there was no money to go out of state for surgery.
18) Lincoln shares many of Gabby's features. Jason and I can see her in him quite often.
19) A grieving mother is dealing with an tremendous amount of pain and because of that, she often has little patience or may seem more tired than she should.
20) Having a critically ill child and then losing her really teaches a mother to appreciate those in her life that stepped up to help out or share a kind word....or those that were there at the hospital...the funeral home...etc. A grieving mother is FOREVER grateful for those gestures and those people. At the same time, it is very difficult for her not to consider those that were not there. While she tries very hard not to think such thoughts, she's only human. It teaches her to do everything she can to help others in similar situations.
21) I wish so much I had held Gabby's body at the funeral home. I did not even think to ask. I later learned that the undertaker was concerned about me possibly wanting to hold her because she'd had a full autopsy. I guess he did not think I could handle what I might see. I could have. I knew why there was a purple crease across Gabby's forehead - that little forehead that used to wrinkle up so sweetly when she yawned. I didn't WANT to know why the crease was there. But I knew, and I hated that such things were going through my mind as I stood by her casket. Her little hands were so cold. Not the warm little hands I'd held so many times. Her face was still so swollen...and cold. I inspected her feet and legs. They had been covered in so much make-up because they'd been so dark purplish black. They were not as stiff as I'd thought they might be, and somehow that comforted me. I remember thinking how much I hated to think about all those things. But there was no escaping such thoughts. I remember seeing my other daughters standing by their sister's casket. They reached in to touch her and hold her hands. It was an image I will never get out of my mind - an image of sweet innocence mixed with terrible tragedy. My girls used to kiss Gabby's hands and play with her little fingers. The sight of them holding her cold, dead fingers was so very different. I know they must have been thinking of all the times they held and kissed her little hands.
22) Gabby was amazing. She was so special. I miss her smile. I miss her laugh. I miss her adorable toes and fingers. I miss her soft cheeks. So....so....so...many things. She touched the lives of her therapists, her doctors, family, friends, and more. Those who knew her were truly blessed.
1) It does not matter how much time has passed since Gabby died. The moments surrounding her death are as fresh in my mind as they were on Nov. 20th, 2009. The nightmares still come. I can close my eyes and recall how she felt in my arms. So swollen. So heavy. Not my dainty little sweetheart that I could carry with one arm while unloading dishes or vacuuming. I can remember the smell of the blood. The drainage tubing. The bodily fluids. Hospital hand sanitizer. I can recall the darkness of her arms and legs. So dark purple. They were already dead. She could not feel me holding her hand as I had so many times before. I remember the way my stomach felt. I was nauseated and felt as though I was being crushed by something so heavy. I felt guilty for breathing. I did not want to breathe if it meant my daughter could live. I remember the people outside the PICU room...the nurses..the doctors...family members. I just wanted everyone to leave. I wanted to be alone with Jason and Gabby...in the middle of 1000 acres of nothing. I wanted no distractions because nothing else mattered. But the distractions were there. Questions from staff that seemed so meaningless and horribly out of place. "Mrs. Merrick, we would really like to perform an autopsy on your daughter. We don't know what went wrong. We could learn from this and help others in the future." What? Why are you asking me this? My baby girl is right here...she's still ALIVE! I wanted to shout, "GET OUT!" But something held me back and reminded me that nobody else had any idea how I was feeling.
2) When we came home from the hospital without Gabby, there was her crib. Just like it had been when she'd slept in it 3 days earlier. And the day before that. And the day before. For over 4 months. Her little stuffed doll was still there - the one that always made her smile. She liked to feel of its softness. There was her swing and the little fish she used to gaze at while falling asleep. I wanted to turn it on just to hear that familiar, soothing, tick-tock sound of it swaying from side to side. But I knew it would cause me more pain when I looked and only saw her rattle in the seat. I could not do it. In here room, there was the diaper pail. We'd changed her a few times since emptying it. I wanted to get the diapers out and hold them close, and that thought did not seem anything but beautiful to me. There was her laundry hamper. In it were a few little outfits she'd worn in the few days before her surgery. There was the little sleeper with the rabbit...pink...with the sleeves rolled up because they were too long. It still smelled like spit-up around the collar. I grabbed a couple of spit-up soaked bibs and frantically stuffed them into a baggie. I did not want that scent to escape - ever. I still have them in that baggie. I leaned over Gabby's crib and put my face down into the mattress and I could still smell her. I started sobbing and my knees gave out. Jason was there to keep me up but I really just wanted to be alone. I looked over on the changing table and there was her diaper ointment. I had just used it on her a few days ago. There was the rattle she loved to hold while I changed her diaper. I remember McKenna and Olivia being so excited when they taught her how to hold it. I closed my eyes and I could remember the four of us gathered round that changing table...so many giggles...so many smiles....so much love. I wanted to go back. I just wanted to erase the 3 previous days and go back to when my baby girl was there with us...surrounded by so much love and joy. But I couldn't. Then I began to think of how I was going to pick up the pieces of my girls' broken hearts. I knew I couldn't fix my own. How would I ease their pain and help them to have any faith in anything anymore? They were angry and sad and confused. They had become so attached to their sister. How was I going to get myself through this while also seeing their pain and figure out a way to help them? They were so young. They should not have to go through such pain. One more reason for me to be angry and crushed. I had lost one daughter, and my other two had lost so much of their innocence.
3) Gabby lived for less than 5 minutes after she was taken off the ventilator. Jason and I talked to her in the most gentle and loving way we could. We told her it was okay for her to go on and be with Jesus. We told her she had been a very brave and strong little girl and had brought so much to our family and community. I believe I managed to cry out a verse of Twinkle Twinkle Little Star - the lullaby I sang most often to her. Her last few breaths were soft gasps. I hate the image of the gasping that I have in my mind, but I would not have missed it for anything. I remember the doctor kneeling beside me and putting on his stethoscope to confirm that she had passed. I remember wanting to tell him to leave, though I knew his job was very important and necessary. I knew she was gone. I didn't want to hear him tell me. Those words were so heavy. But he had to say them. I remember holding her for just a while. The nurses wanted to bathe her and asked me if I wanted to help. Of course I did. The nurse filled the little pink hospital basin with baby wash. But it wasn't the lavender kind - the kind we always used. I was upset because Gabby needed her lavender wash! But then I remembered it didn't matter. I wanted them to remove all the fluid-filled tubes coming out of her...and the wires. But they could not. We had to work around them, as they needed to remain in place for the autopsy. The doctors had mentioned wanting to check every detail. I just wanted to hold my daughter with nothing sticking out of her body. But I couldn't. Now...I wish I'd stayed with Gabby longer. I wish I'd taken pictures. I wish I'd known there were organizations that would have done professional pics for us. I just kept thinking, "Gabby is not here now." And I wanted to leave that room, feeling strangely like I would find her somewhere else. I should have stayed. While I know she was not there, the body that I had known as my daughter was still warm. I wish I had held her until they MADE me leave.
4) NEVER ever tell a grieving mother you know how she feels. Unless you have lost a child - you don't. Sure, there are other kinds of loss. And we can all relate to one another through those types of loss. But losing a child is different. Parents are not supposed to bury their children. The loss comes with an extreme sense of failure. I was unable to protect my daughter and keep her alive. As her mother, that was my main purpose. I failed. No matter how silly that may seem to those of you reading this, it is VERY real to me and any other mother who has lost her child...of any age. We carry a certain sense of guilt that we may or may not ever be able to overcome in this lifetime. It is the worst kind of guilt.
5) If I seem distant, it is because my mind is often rewinding to my time with Gabby. Her death. My feelings relating to all of it. Yes I have 3 other wonderful, amazing children that I adore. But they do not replace Gabby. They will never fill the hole that Gabby left in our family. I could have a hundred more children and Gabby would always be missing.
6) If I manage to go through a day without having an emotional breakdown, it's a good day. If I manage to smile or laugh, it's quite an accomplishment. I don't know how long it will be that way.
7) Gabby's grave is a 30 minute drive from my home and in another county. I wish I could go there more than I do, but with 3 other little ones (especially one that has an anxiety disorder that can be triggered by traveling), it just doesn't happen often. There are days when I really wish I could just go sit there for hours. I can remember what her little white casket looked like and what she looked like lying in it in her little pink gown. I have pictures. I remember seeing it lowered 3 feet below the soil. Sometimes I just want to dig through that soil. I recall a story about Abraham Lincoln in which he was said to have dug up his young son...just to hold him one last time. He knew this pain, and perhaps that is one reason why I like our Lincoln's name so much.
8) I am NOT superwoman! It is all I can do to function many days, but I have 3 children and a household to which I need to tend. I love my 3 living children. Two of them have some minor special needs. I do not want to let them down. But just because I am going...going...going all day, every day...doesn't mean I am fine and I am "over" losing my daughter. I am just really good at sucking it up and trying to focus on my blessings - pushing with all my strength to keep the pain and sorrow from overtaking me. I never knew I could be this strong.. God gets ALL the credit for it. If I let myself do what I really feel like doing, there is no telling where I'd be now. Drugs? Alcohol? Worse? I don't know. What I do know is that all those things are the "easy" way out of this pain. I make a choice every day to fight the pain....with prayer and a lot of hard work. I have a family counting on me. I cannot afford to be selfish.
9) In a bag in my house, I have the pink sleeper that I dressed Gabby in after she died. It was the same one she wore the morning of her surgery and so many times before. It has tiny flowers on it. She always looked so beautiful in it. After she died, my hands failed me as I snapped up the snaps. Each one was more difficult than the next. The sound of that final snap echoed through my mind and through the PICU room. I knew I would never again dress my daughter. I recalled all the times she'd pulled her legs up as I tried to get them into a sleeper. She was quite squirmy. But now...no wiggling. No squirming. Only total stillness. I wanted her to MOVE! I could have sworn she opened her eyes, but it was so hard to see through the tears. After Gabby was prepared for her funeral, we were given a bag containing that sleeper...along with a cream colored hospital blanket that her body was wrapped in for transport to autopsy. There are stickers on the sleeper and the bag...with Gabby's name and date of death. Sad reminders of how she was "just another body" to the pathology lab and the morgue. The blanket and the sleeper still smelled like Gabby the last time I sniffed them....many, many months ago. But the scent wasn't the Gabby I remember. It was a little of that mixed with the scents I remember from the moments just before she died. I don't know whether I should be happy to have these items or disgusted by them. I also have a tiny lock of Gabby's hair that Jason and I cut from her head just before her casket was sealed. Oh how I wish I'd cut off more! It's such a tiny amount. Her hair was so soft. So fuzzy. It was something I loved about her. I used to put her head under my chin and then kiss that little fuzzy head....so many times.
10) McKenna and Olivia talk about Gabby very often. They have many memories of her, and sometimes they seem a little sad when they talk about her. McKenna remembers details of the funeral. Olivia often says, "I miss Gabby"...out of the blue.
11) I want to get a very big tattoo that reads, "I HAVE FOUR CHILDREN!" I want it across my forehead. Ok...not really. But you get the idea. It hurts so much for the 5 of us to go somewhere and hear someone say, "Wow...3 little ones! You have your hands full." I want to say, "No I don't. Because I have FOUR children. One is just not here with me, but I wish with every fiber of my being that she was." For someone not to see that I have FOUR children makes me feel as though Gabby didn't count. And that hurts so badly. When children grow up and move away from home, their parents do not stop counting them when asked, "How many children do you have?"...right? Gabby still counts. Just because she's living in Heaven now does not mean she is not a part of my family. We are separated only temporarily.
12) Would Lincoln be here if Gabby had not died? I don't know. I don't think he would, but I just cannot answer that. I always thought we'd only have 2 children even though I wanted more than that. It was the number upon which Jason and I agreed. But then we had 2 girls and we went through 4 years of infertility (and so much heartache month after month after month). We had a new appreciation for children...and for life in general. And we had at least a little desire to have a boy, so we thought we'd give it one more shot. Then we tacked on 26 more months of infertility...another surgery...more tests...more disappointment. And then we were so excited to find out we were pregnant with #3! We were done. Then....Gabby died. And I knew VERY quickly, I was NOT done. We were so fortunate that it only took 5 months...a little more testing...and 3 rounds of fertility meds (which didn't work, by the way). I truly think God knew we could not handle a lengthy 4th round of infertility only a month after our daughter died.
13) Feeling as though Gabby has been forgotten by the rest of the world is so difficult. I LOVE to hear others talk about her. It helps me realize she DID make a difference.
14) In Lincoln's room, there is a small square on the wall where lavender paint remains...surrounded by a sea of baby blue. That room still belongs to Gabby too, and that square reminds us of that.
15) I kept all of Gabby's clothes, and I do not plan to part with them.
16) The day Gabby died, I was changed forever.
17) I still have a daily struggle with feeling as though we should have taken Gabby to a different doc and a different hospital. Unfortunately, there was no money to go out of state for surgery.
18) Lincoln shares many of Gabby's features. Jason and I can see her in him quite often.
19) A grieving mother is dealing with an tremendous amount of pain and because of that, she often has little patience or may seem more tired than she should.
20) Having a critically ill child and then losing her really teaches a mother to appreciate those in her life that stepped up to help out or share a kind word....or those that were there at the hospital...the funeral home...etc. A grieving mother is FOREVER grateful for those gestures and those people. At the same time, it is very difficult for her not to consider those that were not there. While she tries very hard not to think such thoughts, she's only human. It teaches her to do everything she can to help others in similar situations.
21) I wish so much I had held Gabby's body at the funeral home. I did not even think to ask. I later learned that the undertaker was concerned about me possibly wanting to hold her because she'd had a full autopsy. I guess he did not think I could handle what I might see. I could have. I knew why there was a purple crease across Gabby's forehead - that little forehead that used to wrinkle up so sweetly when she yawned. I didn't WANT to know why the crease was there. But I knew, and I hated that such things were going through my mind as I stood by her casket. Her little hands were so cold. Not the warm little hands I'd held so many times. Her face was still so swollen...and cold. I inspected her feet and legs. They had been covered in so much make-up because they'd been so dark purplish black. They were not as stiff as I'd thought they might be, and somehow that comforted me. I remember thinking how much I hated to think about all those things. But there was no escaping such thoughts. I remember seeing my other daughters standing by their sister's casket. They reached in to touch her and hold her hands. It was an image I will never get out of my mind - an image of sweet innocence mixed with terrible tragedy. My girls used to kiss Gabby's hands and play with her little fingers. The sight of them holding her cold, dead fingers was so very different. I know they must have been thinking of all the times they held and kissed her little hands.
22) Gabby was amazing. She was so special. I miss her smile. I miss her laugh. I miss her adorable toes and fingers. I miss her soft cheeks. So....so....so...many things. She touched the lives of her therapists, her doctors, family, friends, and more. Those who knew her were truly blessed.
Tuesday, June 28, 2011
Imagine...
Imagine someone tells you they are going to kill a child and YOU are the only human being that can prevent it from happening.
Now, imagine you have struggled with years of infertility treatments, surgeries, etc. You KNOW what a miracle every child is.
Imagine you held one of your own children as she died and were willing to take her place without question.
Now add to this the fact that the child that is going to be killed has some very major things in common with the child you lost.
Given this scenario, how do you feel? Confused? Overwhelmed? Sad? Hopeful? Terrified?
Well I certainly felt all of these things and more recently. In the advocacy work that I do, I encountered a woman who is pregnant with a baby boy. The baby has just been diagnosed with the same heart defect Gabby had and Down syndrome. The woman lives in another state, far from KY. When I first talked with her, she was planning on terminating/aborting. I gave her some info about Down syndrome and heart defects. I shared Gabby's story. I told her Gabby's case was rare and that most babies with DS and heart issues do just fine after surgery (very true). The woman and I sent each other a multitude of messages, discussing some very emotional and in-depth stuff. I had (and still have) great compassion for her and her situation. While I truly adored Gabby and always will, I do remember how difficult it was when we found out about her heart and her Down syndrome. It was a very frightening and confusing time. At the time, it was probably the hardest time of my life.
After many discussions with this woman, she told me she wanted ME to adopt her child. She said she would not choose the adoption route unless Jason and I would agree to adopt her baby boy. I gave her all the info about the Down syndrome adoption program in the United States. But she was not interested. She said she would abort her child unless Jason and I would agree to take him. She said she could tell that I obviously loved Gabby deeply and would be an excellent mother to her child because I would love him like nobody else. Though terrified of adding another child while Lincoln is so young and with all we face with the girls, I began to make plans. I started to do my adoption research once again. Jason and I have considered adoption for many years - starting around 2000, when we'd been struggling with infertility for quite some time. In fact, this is where McKenna's name came from. It was the name of a child I saw on an adoption website. Over the years, we've checked into adoption several times. After Gabby died, I felt a calling to adopt a baby with Down syndrome. I had a telephone conference with the woman in charge of the Down syndrome adoption program. We got the paperwork and I started on it - with lots of prayers that God would help us get some of the grants available to those adopting a child with Down syndrome. Then...much to our surprise...we found out we were expecting Lincoln. I put the papers aside and stopped doing my research on adoption.
Recently, when I thought we'd finally be adopting, I started to let my heart get attached to this little unborn baby on the other side of the country. So much went through my mind. Where will he sleep since we have a 3 BR house and already have 5 people here? Will he be so close in age with Lincoln that it will be overwhelming because of his special needs? Will I be able to hand over another child for open-heart surgery after what I've been through? How will this affect the girls, especially if I lose another child? How will I handle grieving over Gabby and welcoming a child with so many issues like Gabby had? Do I have all the clothes and things this baby will need? How will I handle this with the health issues I have? Basically some of the same questions I asked myself when we got Gabby's diagnoses were popping up all over again. But once again, I knew God would take care of us as He always has. I knew I did not encounter this woman by chance. I knew I was doing the right thing even if it was something others might just view as a "mess" that I should totally avoid. I just kept picturing this little baby and thinking of how he needed me. And I kept thinking of how much I wanted him. I realized that there are few people that would want this baby the way I want him.
After a lot of discussions with this woman, she wanted to know more about my religious beliefs. The discussion turned to abortion. I shared my very pro-life views and also my faith in God. The woman became angered even though I presented my beliefs in a very non-threatening way. Out of the blue, the woman used some profanity and told me to go away. I have not heard from her since. Her abortion is scheduled for July 1st. She will be around 20 weeks along. She feels that death is better for her baby than living with Down syndrome. As horrible as that seems to me, it is not surprising since nearly 94% of women with a prenatal Down syndrome diagnosis choose to end their pregnancies. The world views certain babies as disposable, and that sickens me. I am no Biblical scholar, but I am fairly certain God did not say only "typical" babies were created in His image. We are ALL created in His image, and we ALL have value to God. This little unborn baby is just as important as any of my children...any of YOUR children...any of us.
I have been sad about this for obvious reasons. McKenna picked up on this and asked me what was wrong. Though I did not tell her anything about abortion, I told her there was a woman pregnant with a little baby that has Down syndrome and heart defects like Gabby had and that the woman doesn't want her baby. McKenna looked angry and said, "Mommy, every baby is special. Even if it is born with no foot or 3 arms or whatever....they are ALL special. Why wouldn't someone want a sweet little baby? That's not very nice, Mommy." I am so proud of McKenna. My response was, "I don't know honey. It's just not right. We need to pray for the baby and for the woman."
I am left heartbroken over this but know I did all I could do. I ask that you pray for this woman and this precious little baby who may never have his chance at life.
Now, imagine you have struggled with years of infertility treatments, surgeries, etc. You KNOW what a miracle every child is.
Imagine you held one of your own children as she died and were willing to take her place without question.
Now add to this the fact that the child that is going to be killed has some very major things in common with the child you lost.
Given this scenario, how do you feel? Confused? Overwhelmed? Sad? Hopeful? Terrified?
Well I certainly felt all of these things and more recently. In the advocacy work that I do, I encountered a woman who is pregnant with a baby boy. The baby has just been diagnosed with the same heart defect Gabby had and Down syndrome. The woman lives in another state, far from KY. When I first talked with her, she was planning on terminating/aborting. I gave her some info about Down syndrome and heart defects. I shared Gabby's story. I told her Gabby's case was rare and that most babies with DS and heart issues do just fine after surgery (very true). The woman and I sent each other a multitude of messages, discussing some very emotional and in-depth stuff. I had (and still have) great compassion for her and her situation. While I truly adored Gabby and always will, I do remember how difficult it was when we found out about her heart and her Down syndrome. It was a very frightening and confusing time. At the time, it was probably the hardest time of my life.
After many discussions with this woman, she told me she wanted ME to adopt her child. She said she would not choose the adoption route unless Jason and I would agree to adopt her baby boy. I gave her all the info about the Down syndrome adoption program in the United States. But she was not interested. She said she would abort her child unless Jason and I would agree to take him. She said she could tell that I obviously loved Gabby deeply and would be an excellent mother to her child because I would love him like nobody else. Though terrified of adding another child while Lincoln is so young and with all we face with the girls, I began to make plans. I started to do my adoption research once again. Jason and I have considered adoption for many years - starting around 2000, when we'd been struggling with infertility for quite some time. In fact, this is where McKenna's name came from. It was the name of a child I saw on an adoption website. Over the years, we've checked into adoption several times. After Gabby died, I felt a calling to adopt a baby with Down syndrome. I had a telephone conference with the woman in charge of the Down syndrome adoption program. We got the paperwork and I started on it - with lots of prayers that God would help us get some of the grants available to those adopting a child with Down syndrome. Then...much to our surprise...we found out we were expecting Lincoln. I put the papers aside and stopped doing my research on adoption.
Recently, when I thought we'd finally be adopting, I started to let my heart get attached to this little unborn baby on the other side of the country. So much went through my mind. Where will he sleep since we have a 3 BR house and already have 5 people here? Will he be so close in age with Lincoln that it will be overwhelming because of his special needs? Will I be able to hand over another child for open-heart surgery after what I've been through? How will this affect the girls, especially if I lose another child? How will I handle grieving over Gabby and welcoming a child with so many issues like Gabby had? Do I have all the clothes and things this baby will need? How will I handle this with the health issues I have? Basically some of the same questions I asked myself when we got Gabby's diagnoses were popping up all over again. But once again, I knew God would take care of us as He always has. I knew I did not encounter this woman by chance. I knew I was doing the right thing even if it was something others might just view as a "mess" that I should totally avoid. I just kept picturing this little baby and thinking of how he needed me. And I kept thinking of how much I wanted him. I realized that there are few people that would want this baby the way I want him.
After a lot of discussions with this woman, she wanted to know more about my religious beliefs. The discussion turned to abortion. I shared my very pro-life views and also my faith in God. The woman became angered even though I presented my beliefs in a very non-threatening way. Out of the blue, the woman used some profanity and told me to go away. I have not heard from her since. Her abortion is scheduled for July 1st. She will be around 20 weeks along. She feels that death is better for her baby than living with Down syndrome. As horrible as that seems to me, it is not surprising since nearly 94% of women with a prenatal Down syndrome diagnosis choose to end their pregnancies. The world views certain babies as disposable, and that sickens me. I am no Biblical scholar, but I am fairly certain God did not say only "typical" babies were created in His image. We are ALL created in His image, and we ALL have value to God. This little unborn baby is just as important as any of my children...any of YOUR children...any of us.
I have been sad about this for obvious reasons. McKenna picked up on this and asked me what was wrong. Though I did not tell her anything about abortion, I told her there was a woman pregnant with a little baby that has Down syndrome and heart defects like Gabby had and that the woman doesn't want her baby. McKenna looked angry and said, "Mommy, every baby is special. Even if it is born with no foot or 3 arms or whatever....they are ALL special. Why wouldn't someone want a sweet little baby? That's not very nice, Mommy." I am so proud of McKenna. My response was, "I don't know honey. It's just not right. We need to pray for the baby and for the woman."
I am left heartbroken over this but know I did all I could do. I ask that you pray for this woman and this precious little baby who may never have his chance at life.
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