Dear Mom.

Dear Mom. 

The day I lost my child, you lost your grandchild. 

When I look back at pictures from the funeral, there are pictures of me hugging everyone else, but you. 

And I’m so sorry. 

While I was grieving, and I was lost, in the sorrows of moving on with out my child, I forgot that you were grieving too. 

And I’m so sorry. 

While I was being hugged by people, some that I barely knew, you were working. You were setting things up, and tearing things down, and organizing flowers, and taking care of me, of my pregnant sister. You were passing out tissues and drying my tears. 

And I’m so sorry. 

I wouldn’t have survived my grief with out you. I wouldn’t have been able to pull myself out of some very dark spaces, with out you. 

Thank you. For reminding me to shower, for brushing my hair, and bringing me coffee. Thank you for letting me know, that a little deodorant, and basic hygiene would go a long way.  Thank you for the smiles and the laughs, that you forced onto your face to keep me moving in the right direction. I know that that couldn’t have always been easy; and I’m so sorry, that I never stopped to ask if you were okay.

 I know people will say that I was lost in my grief and that it was okay, to think of myself, and they are right. But it would have been okay for you to think of yourself too; but you didn’t. You thought of me.

You put your daughter before yourself, and you met my needs before you even evaluated your own. 

I’ve always been good with words. But I’m not sure I will ever be able to say how much I appreciate who you are. All that you’ve done. And all that you’ve taught me. I made decisions about my daughters life, death, and funeral, with her in mind. What was best for her? What would she have (hopefully) grown up to want? What choices might she had made if she were given the choice. And I made those choices because you taught me to put my child first, by always showing me that. 

You’ll never ever know, just how amazing of a mother you really are… and I’m so sorry that I don’t have the ability to make you see. 

I love you, to the moonshine and back, Momma. More than Iced Lattes. 

Ditching the guilt.

When you find people who love you unconditionally, with out reservations, with out fear; hold on to them. 

I’ve never had a hard time sharing images of our daughter, images of our grief, but there are some photos that I shy away from posting. Mostly fear of judgment, but also guilt. I feel so incredibly guilty that there are several images of me smiling after my daughter died, smiling at her funeral. When we were in the hospital, they give you a “pillow” which was actually a rolled towel in a pillow case, to press against your incision, when you need to sneeze laugh or cough, after a cesarian. After I had my daughter, my family labeled mine, my “Giggle Pillow”, and it drove me nuts, I felt guilty every time someone said it. 

So while I was going through the images of her funeral today, I stopped on this one. It wasn’t a moment of happiness, but a moment of love. Loving this man who had taken such good care of me unconditionally. Loving him so much, that I could look into his worried and stressed eyes, and know that somehow we would survive this. Our daughters casket is behind us, and our family is all around, but in that second we found a way to just be him and me. We found a way to communicate that we loved each other endlessly, and that we were gonna push through this together. 

And I thought “It was okay, for me to feel that. It was okay, for my grief to not overwhelm every single second of me.” And I thought about how this may be one of the most intimate photos of the two of us, ever taken. And that its okay, to share, and okay, that it happened on what was one of the worst days of our life. 

When you find the people who love you unconditionally, with out reservations, with out fear; hold on to them.  And if you’re grieving; ditch the guilt. Embrace every single second that the guilt isn’t drowning you. It’s okay, I promise.

So while I am at it, Here are a few more. 

Pretty sure Matthew wasn't impressed that I forced him to smile for the first one ( tickling never fails) but the second one was much more free. It was us releasing balloons in her honor, and It felt like a beautiful way to say "happy Birthday" to her. Even tho her Birth, day was shadowed by her death .

 

Finding my 2016 Planner.

My son is almost Eight months old, he is happy, and crazy and full of giggles. He is absolutely the love of my life, and my sun rises and sets with him. 

Two years ago, I wouldn’t have been able to even imagine this life. I’m sitting in our kitchen, writing; my husband just changed our sons diaper, in the same little nursery that was meant for his sister. They are “playing” on the couch, where Matthew desperately tries to teach him how to say “Dad-Da”, which Mitchell is having none of. Two years ago, I thought the pain would never end, and that I would never ever get to feel this calmness, and happiness that my life has become.  I was lost, and most days now; I’m not. 

Today, Mitchell had a doctors appointment. It was just a booster for a vaccine that he needed, these booster appointments literally take 2 minutes, so knowing that ahead of time; I decided to pack a “mini” diaper bag so that I didn’t have to bring my giant one in. I dug through our closet to find a medium sized bag that had enough space for his formula, diapers and wipes, and a change of clothes; just incase. So the nurse made me hold him down while she gave him his shot, and after a horrific scream, and a bottle in his mouth all was fine again. So we made our way home and after putting Mitchell down for his nap; I noticed the notebook on my counter… I had pulled it out of that purse, that had been sitting - apparently for   2 years-  in my closet. 

That notebook had  been used as my planner. Each new page would be my one week spread. I wrote down everything ;  I had notes from my old job, bills that were due, things that I had bought; appointments and sticky notes everywhere. This book was packed full of information; my whole life… and in the corner of each weeks spread, was a little note at the bottom, counting down the weeks until Leeona would arrive. My work was highlighted in a certain color, and my midwives appointments highlighted in another. There were notes next to every time I paid a bill, about when and where I was when I paid it so I could remember If I needed to look back. Details, details, details. And then there is the week Leeona was born. She was due the following week. She was born on a Thursday, on Wednesday I had an appointment, with my midwifes; Pink Highlighter, and an ultrasound, also pink highlighter. Breastfeeding class on Saturday, on the sticky note (Blue highlighter, baby related, but not doctor related) . A visit to daycare to get her officially signed up, and appointment with her insurance, (both blue highlighter)  Check marks on my bills to pay; my car insurance on my new soccer mom SUV, my rent; pay an amount on my Zi Photography bill; and a check mark on picking up Matthews birthday present. 

When you turn the page there are three events.

Her Due Date, Matthews Birthday, and another ultrasound that she never made it to. 

And then their is nothing. 

There is emptiness for the next several pages. There are no check marks, and there are no sticky notes.. Theres is just emptiness, where it looks like my life just stopped; like it ended with hers. And that stuck with me as I flipped through it. The blank pages were starring back at me begging for a story to be told. So I sat here, with Mitchell now asleep in his crib, the same crib that still has residue from the decal that once read “Leeona”. And I wonder what those pages would have looked like. 

When I flipped the back of the book closed, something caught my eye. There was writing in there, that wasn’t mine. There was a list, of money that people had left for us at the hospital. A list of nurses, and their names, and what they did for me while I was there, Deb and Connie checked me in, Jen was an ICU RN that took care of me, Nichole and Michelle took care of Leeona and gave her her first bath, which just dawned on me that it was probably her only bath. Katie shared stories of her dad, and how he was taking care of her in heaven. 

When Leeona died, I lost the need to plan out my schedule. I lost the want to stay organized and control things. She threw everything out of my control. Loosing her changed everything about my life, and my plans. I quit my job, I didn’t need daycare, I didn’t need my new SUV with the carseat already strapped into the back. The only schedule that became my life, was the strict rules my body made about when  I needed to empty my Breasts of the milk that she would never need. 

She made my life unpredictable, and uncontrollable; but it got me to right here, right where I am. She threw everything I though I knew my life would be; right out the window. 

So now, I am the mother of a boy. I never got to raise my daughter. But she shows up, she pops in and reminds me of all the things that I missed, I see her in a note book, or in a purse that I’ve pulled from my closet. The pain she left behind, hasn’t left me, I’ve just found a way to live beside it. I’ve found a way to hold space for that pain, yet push on for this baby that is before me. And forever be grateful to her, for bringing him here to me.. 

****As always, Photos by Zi Photography ***

MY birth. MY way.

     I am a Labor and Delivery Photographer. I eat, sleep and live for births. I will never ever get tired of witnessing those miracles, and seeing the strength these woman have. With my first pregnancy I never considered that my birth may turn into a C section. With my second, I knew I would have one. Of course I could have said no, and requested to have a VBAC (vaginal Birth After Cesarean) but because of factors in Leeonas Birth, this was recommended as the safest form of delivery. I was then diagnosed around 35 weeks with a serious liver condition called Cholestasis, which nailed it down that we would deliver this baby at 37 weeks to have the lowest risk of a repeat stillbirth.
     For me, giving up that dream of a VBAC was hard. If you've never been a part of a birth, or had a child yourself, you may not understand the need that some moms have to deliver naturally. However for me, it was a very real loss, and what felt like another thing taken from me. My daughter was taken, a part of how I see the world was taken, some faith, some trust, and a lot of the confidence I had in my body, and its ability to become a mother,  was taken.
     I set out on a path to find out how I could make my next Cesarean, as comfortable for me as possible, and for it to resemble my vision of MY birth. My instant train of thought, was photos. I do this for a living, how was I NOT going to have images?
Would they Let my photographer in the OR?

and the questions kept coming.

Would I be able to deliver in the same hospital?
Who would deliver him?
Would I be able to see my baby right away?
Would I be able to hold him right away?
Were they going to keep us together,  instead of separating me from him while I'm in recovery?
Would I be able to try and breast feed as soon as he was out?

The answer to most of these (all in thanks to MCMH Staff) was yes.

     I began communicating my wishes with the Maine Coast Women Care Staff often and early. I had found beautiful images online, by one of my favorite Birth Photographers, of a clear drape being used in an operating room. This way the Mom could SEE her baby be born. I couldn't thank them enough for going out of their way to, basically, MAKE me a clear drape, when they were unable to order one in time.

    Although I couldn't see my incision, or actual surgery, I could look through the clear surgical Drape, and I could see my baby almost the second he was out. I could see my amazing doctor, and communicate with her in an entirely different way than I imagine I would have been able to if I couldn't see her.

     The minute my son was born, I saw him. He didn't scream instantly, so those few seconds of knowing he was out, yet not making noise, -I imagine- would have been horrifying for me. Wondering if he was okay, But I could look through this clear Plastic drape and see him kicking, I could see his arms moving, I knew he was okay, and alive. Then I herd the most beautiful noise possible, a just bawled as his screams echoed in the operating room.

     I delivered Leeona in the same hospital, yet a different OR. I never for a minute wanted to deliver any where else. The staff was amazing, they treated me so well, and my daughters body with the utmost respect. I became close with them, they mourned with me. They felt our loss, and we could tell that they would have given nearly anything to change our experience. So having Dianne in the room with me was so important, having my Nurse Nichole was, as well. And wouldn't you know it, they both re arranged their schedules so that they could be there with me, and witness the Birth of our rainbow baby.

     Dianne held me up, when they put the spinal in my back, Nichole held my son on my chest when I was getting too week, to have people I knew surrounding me made a world of difference. They weren't just staff, they weren't just medical professionals, they were friends, they were family to my Daughter, and they were routing and advocating for us, every step of the way. The OR has this AWEFUL rule, of only allowing one person in the room with you. I know they have their reasons, but I did everything I could to change that in order to Allow Zelli (Our Photographer) and my Husband in there with me. Having those first moments with all of us together captured was vitally important for me... The OR refused to budge, and which left me extremely upset. It was a deep deep feeling of sadness, and defeat. Again, I know if you have never been in that situation, it may not upset you, but to me that was a staple, and the norm, to have these images to remember just how powerful those moments  and emotions were.
    So Dianne saved the day, another midwife was scheduled to help deliver my son, so Dianne took my camera into the OR, and after I set up the camera settings the best I could predict, her and Nichole tackled making sure I had what I wanted.

   All in all they respected my wishes, and did everything they could to uphold them. They took me down stairs in a chair instead of a bed, at my request, because the idea of watching the ceiling tiles and lights blow past me, took me back to those moments of running me down the halls to get Leeona out on time. They let me have my clear drape, they made sure I got photos. They (after warming, and delayed cord cutting) put him immediately on my chest, they had my favorite staff there with me, they helped me breast feed my routing baby right away. And most importantly They had an extra staff member on hand to keep him with me throughout my entire recovery. They made this birth MINE. And I will always be grateful for that.

My advice to you, if you're pregnant ( or really in any medical situation) is to find providers that support you, to find people who understand your wishes. You CAN fight for the birth you want, or at lest to have it as close to what you want as possible.

     Delivering my son is the biggest accomplishment I have ever completed. Seeing his beautiful face everyday, is something I never thought I would have. It has made me love deeper than I could ever know, and cherish my moments. It has made me selfless, and put him before myself everyday. I have this overwhelming place for him inside of me, in my heart, in my brain, in my bones. He is all of who I am, and in everything I am made of.  Losing his sister has shown me how precious moments are, and how fleeting time is, she has taught me to adore the way he smiles when he has a poop explosion, and embrace the way he pukes down my back.  To be thankful for the sleepless nights, and all the screams. I would do anything to see what they would look like together, but we will never know. If I can't do that, if I can't see their bond, and relationship grow the way it should, than I will at the very lest, remember all that she was, and all that she is, take that and make myself the best mom I can be. I will learn from all the lessons she left me. Everyday, I will Love the two of them, more than I could ever even love myself. Everyday I will live for him, and for her, and give to him all that I am, and all that I should have been able to be for Leeona.
    Motherhood after a loss is a world of its own, there is no manual for it, and it is a confusing road. I can't imagine my life without Mitchell, but I know I wouldn't have him, if I had not lost Leeona. He is here because she is not, and I'm still learning how I feel about that. I am still learning how to be this kind of mom. I am grateful for her to bringing him to me, but I wish there was a way to have them both.
    However we got here, and as much as it hurt to lose her, I think we have finally found some kind of new normal, and not that the pain from her loss is gone, but Mitchell has brought us a new sort of happiness that has changed the very concept of who we are.

The Shower Before the Rainbow!

     We are so so close to welcoming our Little Rainbow Baby! Only 4-6 Weeks (Depending on my exact C section date) and we will have a little oneeee! On Sunday we celebrated with a from friends and family....
    IT WAS ADORABLE, Thanks to my mom and Jody, we had the cutest shower around! Our nursery is mountain and adventure theme, so we stuck with that and added in some woodland characters , and picnic style food and called it an adventure! It was so much fun, we got tons and tons of goodies for our little guy, seriously almost everything we needed! Thank you so much to everyone who brought a gift. Jody has been telling me thru my whole pregnancy not to buy too much until after the shower, and she was right! There are now very few things we have left to buy. And I cannot say thank you enough to the very very special people, who took their time to hand make me a gift. We have always been a very hand made, and craft family, and I know how much time and love that takes! Little Mitchell is soooo Loved already!

 

 
 

 Hat, booties and a diaper cover hand made By his Mammie Jo <3 

Hand made blanket that Jody ordered representing our Rainbow baby <3 

Hand made hat by Ms Morgan <3 

Little Owls Hand stitched my Mammie Jo <3 

Knitted Blanket, homemade by Ms. Morgan <3 

Mountains for his crib Pillows by Mammie Jo <3 

This AMAZING "rag" quilt that My jody made, thank you so much <3 It's perfect. 

Matching Boppy Pillow cover <3 

We left the shower filled our cars with our Goodies and headed home to make the TINY Nursery home for this little guy!