Party hardy

It's Canada Day weekend again folks. 

If you remember last year, I was in the hospital for Canada Day and started having bright red bleeding for the first time in my pregnancy with Kaia at 30 1/2 ish weeks. (Red for Canada Day!!!  My uterus decided to colour coordinate with the holiday.  How festive!). *Eye roll*

It sucked monkey balls.

This year I am cleaning the house, which also sucks, but in a much more mundane too-bad-I'm-not-at-the-cottage-rather-than-buried-under-a-pile-of-winter-jackets-and-elbow-deep-in-a-bucket-of-Mr.-Clean kind of way.

We are cleaning the house this weekend instead of doing anything fun, because next weekend we have big plans....

FIRST BIRTHDAY PARTY PLANS!!!  

On July 9th Kaia will be one whole year old!!! (Or 10 months corrected...I kind of like this number better since it means she's still my little baby for awhile longer, but really I know, I know...she's one!).

The guests have all confirmed (family and close friends, which still adds up to like 25 people).  The paper plates, cups and cutlery have been bought.  Decorations have been decided upon and hey, did you know there is a world wide shortage of helium???  I didn't think that could even happen since it's an element on the periodic table for goodness sakes, but apparently it can.  I have done a cupcake batch of 12 as a trial run for the cake I am making and all 12 were super delicious if I do say so myself.  I had 6 and Brian got 6.  Kaia got none. Sugar's bad for babies.  I'm pretty sure I read that somewhere, right? 

Yet, sometimes I still think back to last year and how we weren't even sure we were going to have a living baby at this point.  We were much more hopeful than we had been any earlier in the pregnancy, but still, pretty damn freaked out...still talking in 'ifs' and 'maybes' and 'I hope so's'.

And now we're planning a party like it ain't no thang' cuz (holy smokes!) she's one.  (!!!)

Sitting up. Clapping. Laughing at things she finds funny. Eating finger food on her own (quite dexterously I might add) . Pooping and peeing in the potty. Hip fixed. Saying Mama, Dada and Lynx (our cat's name, which is a REALLY hard word, but comes out of her mouth the same way every time when she sees the cat and although it sounds like "lthsshx" we are sure this is what she means). 

It's awesome.

I want to reach back in time and tell my June 2011 self to just RELAX...it's gonna be fine.  

So, I'm feeling very lucky this weekend.  Even while cleaning out the basement.

Lately, with photos!

I realized I haven't updated about Kaia in few weeks, which I like to do if only to have a record of what she's doing these days.  I'm sure I'll fondly look back at these posts and it's fun to include the details that I know I will forget.

In short, she's doing really well!

She has 4 teeth now (two top, two bottom) and is transitioning to table foods and cutting back in the milk department.  From the fruit and vegetable section she's had: bananas, raspberries, strawberries, blueberries, apple, kiwi, watermelon, nectarine, cantaloupe, peas, carrots, potato, beans, broccoli, bell peppers, tomato and asparagus and tonight after dinner she tried "dragon fruit".  She likes Graduate 'Puffs', bread (especially when I rip it up and put it on her tray), cheese and enjoys throwing around those baby 'mum-mum' crackers.  She also LOVES being spoon fed yogurt and can't seem to get enough of that nasty looking baby cereal . The other day we gave her some plain cooked spaghetti to try. She spent the whole meal picking it up, waving it around, and then looked confused when it stuck to her arms.  I think she thought we'd given her a strange new toy. It's so much fun watching Kaia try new foods.  She sits with us at dinner and she's like a little baby bird when she's hungry...she sticks her head WAY forward with her mouth open, eyes looking up at us, just hoping we are going to offer her something tasty!

Kaia is starting to use many more consonants including 'ma-ma' and 'da-da' and sort of a 'thhhh' sound which is generally followed by tons of spittle. Sometimes it's so clear when she says Ma-ma or Da-da you swear she's actually talking to you.  I still don't feel she's really connected the sounds (ma-ma) to the meaning yet (ME! Yes I'm your Ma-ma!), so I say she hasn't actually said her first word.  I think the day will come soon though where she'll turn to me and say "Ma-ma", and then follow it up with "Could you be ever so kind as to please go and get me a bottle of warm milk?"...ha, one can only dream.

Kaia still gets 4-5 bottles of milk per day, probably around 600 mls, but has little interest in sippy cups beyond tossing them off her tray.  She understands that the little nub at the top goes in her mouth, and that water will come out of it, but she tends to bite on it rather than suck and she wants ME to hold it while she does this.  She better get out of this habit soon, because I don't think daycare is going to be impressed with having to hold her bottles or sippy cups for her all the time.

In terms of pumping, I'm still easily keeping up with her demands even though I'm now down to 3 pumps per day, making about 900 mls. This is a good thing, because my huge storage of frozen milk (40 litres or 1500 oz) had a bit of an "accident" when Brian disconnected the power to our deep freezer by mistake. Despite the thought of all that hard work (hours and hours of pumping down the drain...literally!!!) I wasn't too upset about this because most of that milk was pumped last August when Kaia was still in the NICU.  Since it was getting close to it's one year expiry date, I figured we'd probably end up tossing it anyway.  I liked having all that milk stored over the winter as my 'insurance policy' in case for some reason my milk started to dry up I knew I had at least a month's worth of food left for her. I knew I would never be able to donate it either because there are no milk banks in this province.

Probably the area that Kaia is slowest in developing is her gross motor skills.  She's been out of the cast since April 3rd and it wasn't until mid to late May that she could confidently sit up on her own (although I was told this was pretty fast at her NICU follow up appointment where they said kids in spicas can take a long time to sit).  She can stand for short periods of time, if supported by a chair or table...but she makes no real efforts to go from one position on her own to another.  These are called 'transition' movements (ie: sitting to lying down, or sitting to pulling up) So if Kaia's sitting...she's sitting unless she falls over backwards.  If she's standing, she's standing in one position (with me closely behind her as she's not very steady) and won't try to take any steps on her own.  If she's on her tummy, she CAN roll over, but seems very stiff and awkward doing it and generally doesn't seem to 'get' that she can change positions to lying on her back if she wants to. It's a little frustrating to watch her struggle, but I know it's temporary and eventually she'll learn how to do these things.  To help her, Kaia is being seen by a nurse from the infant development program about once every two weeks.  The nurse gives me a few tips each time she comes to our house on how to help Kaia with her motor skills, and an OT from the same agency came once to really assess her development.  This was at the end of May so Kaia was just over 8 1/2 months corrected and was falling into the 6-7 month category on some skills and 8-9 on others.  So really not TOO far behind, and pretty damn good for spending 1/4 of her first year in a cast, and 1/6 in the NICU.

This might sound terrible, but I'm actually not sad that she's not getting around anywhere on her own yet.  I'm sure it will be thrilling when she begins to crawl or takes her first steps, but it certainly makes life a lot easier not having to chase after her yet.  A friend of mine came over one time with her 10 month old who was able to cruise and crawl. It was exhausting chasing after this kid.  You had to keep one eye on her at all times. She was also quite destructive, not because she was a 'bad' kid, but because she was young and curious and at 10 months old, didn't really get being 'careful' or 'gentle' yet.  Another friend of mine had a daughter who didn't walk until she was 20 months.  Although she started to get a bit worried about her daughter's development by that point, it definitely made for an 'easier' baby to look after.  By the time her daughter was solidly walking, she could understand if you told her 'no' or asked her to 'be careful'.  This friend never even did any baby proofing because there wasn't a need.  So if your baby does happen to develop later, don't fret moms, it does have some advantages.

My feeling is that as long as Kaia can walk her butt into her Kindergarten class, I'm happy.

I don't want to jinx anything, but all of a sudden Kaia has decided to start sleeping through the night the past couple of weeks.  She'll do AT LEAST 8 hours at a time, and the other night she slept for 12 hours straight!  It was wonderful.  However, there seems to be a bit of a trade off (there always is, isn't there?).  While she is sleeping better, she is taking a LONG time to fall asleep initially at night, or she'll fall asleep okay and then wake up 30 minutes later as if she's refreshed and ready for more play time.  I don't really want to get into the 'cry it out' stuff, because a) we've never done that and I'm afraid if we start it will mess with the sleeping through the night part and b) she is VERY resistant to 'cry it out'.  Kaia's stubborn and will cry, and cry, and CRY, and whine, and fuss, and then be very quiet for awhile and you THINK she's gone to sleep...but no, she's just rallying for the next round of crying and fussing.  Usually if she hasn't started to settle within 10-20 minutes, she's not going to and it's going to take some parental help to get her back to sleep.  While it makes for some crummy evenings since a lot of it is spent trying to get her to go to sleep, I'll take that over multiple night wakings, especially since I'm headed back to work in a month and a half.

Which of course is the other big deal around here.  I'm still looking for a job to go back to in August, other than having to go back to the NICU full time. I've got a lead on a few (including one back at the unit where I was on contract before), but nothing is guaranteed yet. It's a job looking for a job, which is why I haven't been able to blog as much lately.  I spend all of Kaia's nap time looking at job boards and writing cover letters.  I just want to get my back to work place settled so that I can enjoy the rest of my maternity leave.

So that's what's doing in a nutshell.

Oh, and photos of course!

Don't let the lion eat me, okay Mommy?

Loves the swings!

Had some pro photos taken and this one's my favourite!

Lessons from Aidan: Marriage

Aidan's short life and death taught me a lot. 

This wasn't his job of course. He was not created or born and did not die in order to teach me anything. He was so much more, so much better than just a lesson or a 'sad event' to 'overcome' in my life and it probably goes without saying that I would give up everything he taught me to have him back.  But, I can't deny that I feel I am a better person for both the having of him, and the losing of him. 

Grief and loss teaches you things about yourself, about others, and about life in a way that getting exactly what you want or feel you 'deserve' cannot. The lessons you learn from loss are harsh. They are abrasive and messy and gnaw away at the deepest parts of you.  While I would not say that I am a completely different person after losing Aidan, I feel I have grown in ways that I wouldn't have if he was alive today.

One of the 'gains' (can I use that word? It's not exactly what I mean, but it will have to do) I feel I got from Aidan's death was the absolute certainty I married the right man.

During the years that we dated, I always joked with Brian that he must have been made of stone, since I never saw him cry. It seems silly now, but I thought it was kind of strange that he never cried, not even at our wedding. He never seemed to get very sad or truly emotional. I had a small worry that maybe he didn't really feel things as deeply as I did, if he didn't ever feel the need to cry.

That all changed the day I began bleeding only a week after finding out I was pregnant with Aidan. When I told Brian I feared I would miscarry...he sobbed. Here we were, only a week into a pregnancy that was visually only two lines on a stick and already Brian loved this little person, felt attached to him, and was deeply upset thinking he might be lost. It was both heartbreaking and wonderful to see how much he cared. I wish this had been the first and only time I had seen Brian cry over Aidan. Unfortunately it wasn't.  Not by a long shot.

The knowledge that your partner shares the same depth of feeling that you do and understands you and meets you on the same level about the big things in life is a great gift. It is something to fall back on when the little things in a marriage begin to grate. Through our struggles both before and after Aidan died, I had to lean on Brian a lot, and he on me. We supported each others need to hope, to grieve, to memorialize, and to begin to laugh again. Our grief wasn't and still isn't always experienced on the same time table, nor do we necessarily express ourselves in the same way, but knowing that we both carry the same love for Aidan, think about him often, and miss him dearly, is a great source of comfort between us.

Our relationship has been on my mind a lot this week because Thursday was our 4th wedding anniversary. While four years is not a long time in the grand scheme of things, those years have been tumultuous ones for us. I realized, and am proud to say, that not once over the course of it all did I ever truly feel my relationship with Brian was in jeopardy. I know I am lucky to say this. Not every couple escapes their child's death so unscathed.

Sometimes it takes a crisis to really make you aware and acknowledge the quality of the partner you have chosen. One hopes that out of this comes appreciation and love for all this person adds to your life, even in the wake of so much disappointment and loss. I can only imagine the difficulties a person might face if they woke up after their baby died and realized their partner was not someone they were going to be able to get through this with. Talk about a rude awakening.

It reminds me of something my Mom told me about my own birth years ago. She said that when I was born and she and my Dad learned about my heart defect they were both overwhelmed and devastated. I was sick and would need multiple surgeries. There were no guarantees. How were they going to handle it all?  But, my mom told me she remembers saying to my Dad at the time "thank goodness it's you that I'm in this with".  30 years later, I think they would both still agree.

So, if we have to be 'in it' at all, I'm glad it's Brian who's here with me.

Who are you 'in it' with?  Are you glad it's him or her?  How has your child's death affected your relationship with your partner?  Did you ever question if you were going to 'make it through'?

Right Where I Am: Two Years, One Month, One Week, One Day Later

Where am I?  

I'm still here.  

Further along the path, but still travelling.  

I guess I thought somehow I would have arrived by now. To where? I'm not sure. But still, there is no end in sight. Perhaps that's the point. When your baby dies, you're never done, never finished. Never done grieving. Never done remembering. Never finished wishing for the things that might have, almost, could have, would have, should have been.  

Things change over time, of course.  They always do.  

Except the fact that he's dead.  That never changes.

***

I'm in a much better place this year than when I wrote my post for Angie's project last year.  Having Kaia is a big part of that. Kissing a chubby baby tummy, holding a soft dimpled hand, feeding a tiny greedy mouth and waking up to a light-up-my-life smile is beyond wonderful. Kaia is all that and more, wrapped up in daughter-y goodness. 

But it's not just her presence that has pulled me out of the darkness.

A year ago, I feared she would die. I was afraid that I would have to burn another child. 

A year ago, I feared she would live, but with crippling health problems. It would be a miracle...but with so many strings attached.

That she is who she is, and does what she does, seems like so much more than I could have ever asked for. That she defied the odds and lives to tell the tale is the greatest gift I have ever received.  On days that are hard, where I'm tired or she's out of sorts, or life isn't as simple as it could be, all it takes is a reminder, and I'm grateful again. I know it could always be worse. Much worse.

The fact that she is miraculously alive, against all the odds, continues to astound and amaze me. That this time I got what I wanted, that she wasn't taken away, has healed a part of me that was so damaged when Aidan died. Having her alive and well has restored my faith in life's goodness.

So maybe it's no wonder that sometimes I feel I no longer deserve to be sad over Aidan's death.  He died, true...  But she lived! 

You got what you wanted. How much more can you ask for? You know that life isn't fair. Can't always get what you want. Be grateful. 

And I am.

But...(a small voice says). 

Other people have no dead children. 

No pregnancies that cripple them and place them on life's sidelines for months. 

No post-traumatic stress triggers (NICU, sick, possibly dying babies, sad, sad parents) that await them upon return to work after maternity leave. 

No reason to think that a next pregnancy would be anything but joyful anticipation.  

No reason not to have another, very much wanted (alive), sibling for their child.

I am so lucky...and not, all at the same time.

***

It's still all so complicated.  So awash in love and fear and longing.  

But now? That is utterly normal. 

Just life.  

It is what it is.

And I'm still here.

Vacation

On vacation at the cottage this week! 

Kaia and I came up on Saturday with my parents and Brian stayed home for a few days to put in hardwood floor in our living and dining room. (Yeah for a carpenter husband!!) He finished Monday and drove up Tuesday to spend the rest of the week with Kaia and I, while my parents left to go back to the city. I was really excited to come to the cottage since we missed out on the entire 2011 season due to pregnancy and NICU time. I think I started last summer the same shade of pale I finished it, so I'm really pleased to get some nice weather while we're up here.

I am also really excited to share the cottage with Kaia. My grandparents bought this place when I was a year old, so many of my best childhood memories contain the cottage. It's really special to be able to share it with my daughter and see my parents take on the role that my own grandparents enjoyed so much. Kaia is having a good time and is finally starting to get good at sitting up on her own as well as adding a few more constants into her vocabulary. I've heard 'ba' and 'da' since we arrived here on Saturday.  I'm hoping 'ma' is next! 

Kaia continues to try new foods, including small bits of meat.  She had butter chicken at home last week and LOVED it. She's also had a bit of (soft) steak, but wasn't too keen on salmon. She will eat most fruit, so I thought she would love watermelon since it's so soft and juicy, but it was a no go.  Maybe it was too cold?  I'll have to try that one again some time.

Sleep is still a bit of an issue.  For most of Kaia's life we have held her after feeding while she falls asleep. This is somewhat of a time consuming and unsustainable bad habit, so I figured the change of scenery at the cottage might be a good chance to make a change. Since we arrived on Saturday, at every nap and bed time once Kaia's bottle is finished, she goes into her bed whether she is asleep or not. The cottage is very open and thus she can hear us walking around and talking even if she can't see us, and I was afraid this might hinder the process. So far, she hasn't seemed to mind too much, and I'm thinking it might even help for her to hear us nearby. It's taken as little as 5 minutes to as much as an hour and a half for her to fall asleep after being put to bed, but instead of crying she babbles to herself. I'm hoping we can keep this up at home. It would be a major improvement and definitely free up some of our evenings.  I might even get to work out once in awhile!

However, Kaia is still waking up at night usually twice, for a bottle. She eats before she goes to sleep at 7pm, then wakes around midnight for a bottle and then again around 5am, finally getting up around 8am. She seems to need these bottles as she does eat quite a bit (100-150 mls). Usually she goes back to sleep during the night fairly quickly...but on the nights she doesn't it's like torture. Kaia!!!! Pipe down...some of us are TRYING to sleep!  I'm really hoping the elusive 'sleeping through the night' is just around the corner, but who knows at this point.

I also have come to appreciate more of what it means to be a 'mom on vacation' when I arrived at the cottage and figured out 'wait a sec...I still have all the work that I do at home!" It's true that moms don't really get vacations. I still pump 4x a day. I still wash bottles every day. I still have dirty clothes and diapers to change, night time feedings, and an 18 pound kid to haul around and keep entertained. It's fun and I wouldn't trade it for anything...but not exactly what one generally pictures as 'relaxing'.  Different scenery, same chores.

It's nice to be away from the computer for a few days, but I hope to start my "What Aidan taught me" series when I get home. 

Hope all you Americans have a good Memorial Day weekend and hope all of you Canadians enjoyed May 24 long weekend as much as I did.

I'll end with a picture of Kaia, lounging at the cottage in her new kid-sized Muskoka chair.

Mommy's Day

Feeling grateful this year.

Mother's Day 2010: Aidan had just died a few weeks before.  I was still bleeding out all that should be inside, nourishing him, keeping him healthy and safe. Instead I felt broken. Inside and out. I had failed him in the most basic way possible. 

It was a hard day.  

We had brunch at my mother's house to 'celebrate'.  We gave a framed photo of Aidan to my Mom as a present.  We didn't have energy to be creative. His photo was the most meaningful thing I had to share. She cried.  They weren't happy tears.  

It was a hard day.

Mother's Day 2011: Pregnant but with pPROM. Again. In hospital after 6 weeks of bed rest at home. Still not at 'viability'.  Coming up on the gestational age we lost Aidan.  Hope as low as the Mariana Trench.

It was a hard day.

Heard another patient in the hall saying her scheduled C-section had been pushed back to Tuesday.  "Guess this little one wasn't quite ready to make this my first Mother's Day!".  Jealous. Angry. Hurt.  If she's 2 days away from having her full term baby by C-section and she's not a mom...what does that make me?  Feel like a failure. Again.

It was a hard day.

Mother's Day 2012: Woke up to "waaaaa" and Brian saying Kaia was requesting my presence down in the kitchen.  Pancakes.  Eggs.  Toast.  "Happy Mother's Day". Gooey baby mush all over my floor.  Kaia's cranky from being up since 5 am.  Brian got up with her...after I was up with her at 1am.  Needs a nap already. I could use one too.

It was a great day.

My mom and me.  Out in the backyard.  Gardening.  Gabbing...between my Mom blowing her nose.  She has a cold.  I'm sure we'll all have it by week's end.  Got flowers planted this spring.  Last two years were write offs.  My backyard looks...happy. I am happy.

It was a great day.

Gave my mom and my mother-in-law framed photos of us as a family.

Minus one. 

Always minus one.

I am your mommy too Aidan.  I never forget it.  I never forget you.

Love you, now and always.

To all you mommies out there, whether your baby is near or as far as can be, or maybe only exists in your dreams...I wish you a happy, peaceful, hopeful day.

Hole to Whole

This is a hole.

It was made by an erupting volcano. The earth exploded and crumbled. Dust and debris flew into the atmosphere, choking the life out of anything that dared to breathe. Boiling lava spewed out and obliterated whatever surrounded it. A total waste land.

This is an apt visual representation of what my life looked like after Aidan died. 

Life was empty. I was empty. I didn't know how I was going to pick up the pieces and carry on. A part of me didn't want to.  I didn't know how I was going to survive his loss.  I remember sitting on my dining room floor a few days after he died, sobbing. Hugging my arms to my sides in effort to hold myself together, rocking back and forth. Yelling at Brian, "I want him back!!". In that moment nothing less than my Aidan would do.

In the weeks and months and now years that have past I have spent a lot of time peering into the hole that his loss left in my life. I needed to do that. I needed to cry about it, rage about it, think about it, talk about it, and write about his loss from every angle.  I needed to hurt, hurt, hurt...until a time came where I could begin to let the hurt go.

I read this article recently and it has inspired me. I like how the author describes healing from grief.  That it takes hard work. It is fallacy that time heals all wounds. Time isn't the balm. Time is just space away from the event. Hard work and the decision to learn from, grow from and move past the pain is what heals. Hard work takes time and since mental, physical and emotional wellness is something worth having, it does not come overnight.

I feel to a large extent I have done this work and healed from Aidan's death. I don't know if I will ever be 'finished' healing per say, as there may come situations in the future that will bring the pain of losing Aidan back to the surface (such as my upcoming return to work in the NICU. *Gulp!*). But, by and large, I feel I have learned and grown a lot in the last two years.  I'd like to share what I have learned in a small series of posts, the first of which I'm working on now.

I don't share my insight smugly, "look at me, I'm so great, I've healed!"  We all have our own journey to navigate back from the darkest of dark places and it's not my intent to compare, to shame or hurt any reader who feels they haven't come close to arriving at a place that resembles acceptance. Acceptance might not even be something you WANT to get to, and who am I to argue with that? I share on here with the understanding that some people's grief journeys are longer, with more twists and turns, more roadblocks or dead ends, but sometimes it helps to see what has guided others along the way. It's also important to note that we all start out along this path with different strengths and weaknesses that can help or hinder us in times of great sorrow.  I would love to hear your responses, and the things you have learned...because maybe there are things I have missed.

I feel incredibly blessed to say that two years later, life now looks like this. 

Some of you may recognize it.  It's Crater Lake in Oregon.  Made by a volcano erupting. Lava spewing. Ash and dust settling over the land for miles around. When this volcano erupted, it looked like the first picture above. Now with time, the energy of the sun, the power of the wind and the rain there are flowers. There are trees. Birds are singing. Bees are buzzing. This is a place worth living.

What can't be denied is that there is still a hole.

It's just now called a lake.

What's amazing, considering its beginning, is that this hole no longer detracts.  Rather it adds to the beauty of what surrounds it. The landscape is enhanced, made better, more abundant and full because of the hole, not in spite of it.

Aidan and the impact he left on my life I consider my very own crater.  No question, I would trade all I have learned to have him back, filling the Aidan shaped hole in my life that his absence leaves behind.  But that is not possible. So I choose to find beauty and goodness in what his life and death taught me. His short presence, and subsequent absence have forced me to dig deeper, expand my horizons, examine my beliefs, question what is possible and love more completely. Right after he died, I felt I had nothing. All I could see was the hole. But two years later, while he still has irrevocably altered the landscape of my life, I have come to appreciate how more MORE he has added to it, even in death.

It has taken two years and a lot of hard work but my life and its landscape has gone from hole....to whole.

Where are you? Hole? Or Whole?