Thursday, June 21, 2012

A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes . . .

I know some people will most likely think I'm crazy, but I truly believe that our loved ones who've passed on come to visit us, sometimes through our dreams. I had just such a dream the other night. My mother came to me and she told me that she missed me and she loved me. I then saw my daughter Madelynn. Although she was only three months old (thirty eight weeks gestation adjusted) when she passed away, in the dream she appeared to be a bit older. If she were still with us, she would be almost five and a half. She didn't look anywhere near that though; she was maybe six months old. I imagine she appeared to me in that form because that's how I remember her, although, in my dream she was happy and healthy and chubby like a baby should be. She was absolutely beautiful. In addition to Madelynn; however, I also saw two other baby girls. They were both very tiny. I can't say for certain, but I'm pretty sure my mother was holding one of the baby girls. The other was being held by my friend Wendy. I had known her since Kindergarten. She died much too young during my freshman year of college. If her sisters are anything like Madelynn, then my mother most definitely has her hands full with her grand daughters and she needs all the help she can get!!

This dream was very significant for me because now I know without a doubt that my baby girls are safe and sound with my mother. I've always known that Maddie was with my mom, but seeing my other two daughters with her also was very comforting. My husband and I didn't know the gender of the two embryos that were thawed for our FET cycle. On the day of the transfer, we made the very difficult decision to transfer only one embryo because the other was badly damaged in the thawing process. We wanted to give the healthier embryo the best chance possible at implantation. We were given a picture of the embryo that was transferred and right next to it was a pink "cloud." My husband noticed it immediately and pointed it out to me. After seeing that, we were both convinced that it was a girl. We never did see the other embryo and we didn't have testing done on either to determine gender.

In my dream, all three girls had dark hair. They resembled each other quite a bit as well, just as most siblings do. My husband swears that Madelynn would have been a redhead like me, but the locks of hair that we have from the NICU are distinctly dark. We were affectionately calling the baby that I miscarried Little Bean since that's what the embryo looked like in the picture we were given. Both Little Bean and her sister were absolutely beautiful, just like Madelynn. When I awoke from the dream, I felt at peace for the first time in weeks. Unfortunately, that feeling was short-lived.

I naively thought that I had accepted my miscarriage and the fact that I will never again be pregnant or be able to carry a baby to term. There I go thinking again. I am no where near acceptance. I had such high expectations for the pregnancy. I truly believed that my husband and I would be able to bond over the baby the way most couples are able to do. We weren't able to do so with Madelynn and Mason due to the fact that my husband was deployed to Iraq when I was only seven weeks pregnant. He was then rushed home a month before his deployment was scheduled to end because I was on the verge of a late-term miscarriage. We were able to see numerous ultrasounds, and hear the babies heartbeats during the five weeks that I was in the hospital on bed rest before their delivery; however, it was an extremely stressful time. I wouldn't exactly say that we bonded over our babies. I also had high hopes that with careful monitoring and progesterone supplementation, I would be able to deliver a healthy, full-term baby and that it would somehow help me heal emotionally from the trauma of delivering the twins at only twenty-four weeks gestation and watching them fight for their lives day by day, hour by hour, minute by minute. Once again, I was mistaken. If anything, the loss of Little Bean and her sister has only caused the pain to be magnified.

I wish with my whole heart that I could find a way to go back in time and prevent Madelynn and Mason from being born so early. I would give anything to have them both here, happy and healthy and thriving. I also wish both embryos had successfully survived the thaw and that we had been able to transfer both and welcome both baby girls into our family. Not a day goes by that I don't think about Madelynn, Little Bean or their sister and wonder how much richer our lives would be with them all here with us. I know in my heart that one day our family will be reunited in Heaven. Until then, I can only hope that I am granted the privilege of seeing them in my dreams as often as possible.

Thursday, June 7, 2012

A Different Path

I recently posted something on Facebook that caused quite a stir. The Your eCard pics have been showing up all over Facebook and Pinterest. I think the majority of them are quite hysterical; however, there was one I saw recently on Pinterest that said, "I hear you. Raising kids & running a house keep me busy too. I also have this little gig on the side called a full time job." I realize that humor is subjective, but I found this quite offensive. I felt that it was derogatory and belittling to stay at home moms. A friend mentioned a bumper sticker that she saw which said, "You've never worked unless you've been a stay at home mom." To me this is just as derogatory and belittling to working mothers. Making someone feel like less of a mother or less of a woman based on working status is just simply wrong. Many women, if given the choice, would gladly trade places. I have several family members and friends who would give anything to be able to stay at home with their children, but circumstances simply don't allow for it. Unfortunately, I think some women are bitter and resentful towards those who are afforded that opportunity. The same holds true for some stay at home moms, though. Not every stay at home mom wishes to stay home. They too are sometimes forced to do so by circumstances beyond their control. I've met a few woman who were forced to give up their careers. Ironically, some of these women are also bitter and resentful towards women who are able to work outside the home.

I've never understood why women feel the need to prove they are better than one another. It happens all too often though, especially when it comes to bearing and raising children. For example, there are some women who believe they are better than others simply because they were able to deliver their children via natural childbirth instead of a Cesarean section. Once again, I'm sure given half the chance, many women would gladly trade places with each other if circumstances allowed it. The whole point of my original post on Facebook was that women need to stop trying to prove that they are better than one another and simply support each other. Motherhood is one of the hardest jobs and therefore we each need ALL the support we can get.

Through the course of the "debate" that resulted from my original post, a comment was made that I seem to think that I have it harder than others. At first I was extremely offended by this, but after some careful reflection, I can see how it might sometimes come across that I feel that way. I assure you, I do not. I simply face different challenges than the average parent given the fact that I do have a special needs child. While most parents are busy chauffeuring their children to a multitude of extra curricular activities, I instead am chauffeuring my son to a multitude of doctors appointments and therapy sessions. It's not necessarily harder, just different. Also, while the average parent is busy helping their children with homework, instead my husband and I are busy trying to help our son learn how to simply communicate. Again, not necessarily harder, just different.

Parenting a special needs child has it's own unique challenges. Milestones are different. Dreams for your child's future need to be altered. Sometimes, extreme lifestyle changes need to be made. Each of us has our own journey to make in this lifetime and as a result, we often take different paths. The reality is that for some that path is, in fact, harder in some ways than others. It doesn't make that person any better than anyone else, just different. That being said, truth be told, my path has been a bit harder than some.

My road to motherhood was a lot bumpier than that of most of my friends and family. In all honestly; however, I am extremely grateful that very few of my friends and family share in my experiences. Infertility sucks. Threatened miscarriage is not pleasant in the least. Delivering a baby that is just barely viable is extremely terrifying. The NICU can be a complete nightmare. Losing a child, in my opinion, is one of the worst things that can ever happen to a parent. It leaves your heart and soul scarred for life. (Unfortunately, I've experienced that loss from another perspective given the fact that I've also lost my parents.) Miscarriage, no matter how far into the pregnancy, is heartbreaking. Raising a child who is on the Autism Spectrum can be very daunting. I realize the fact that I don't hide any of these things can sometimes come across as me drawing attention to myself and alluding to my life being harder; however, I don't share all of my experiences to garner pity. I do so in an attempt to reach out to others and hopefully help them to realize that they are not alone.

Infertility, miscarriage, and infant loss are all taboo topics. People are uncomfortable talking about them and as a result too many people suffer in silence. I myself am not even able to talk to my closest family members about my daughter or my miscarriage because they just don't know how to cope with either subject. In addition, there are still a multitude of misconceptions surrounding Autism and as a result parents often don't know where to turn to for support. I know I am only one person but it is my hope that by being vocal about all of these topics, I will be able to help in some small way. If I'm only able to reach one person and help them to feel less alone in this world, then my mission is complete. I am not any better or worse than anyone else. I simply have a different path to follow and I am trying to do so with as much dignity and grace as I can, unfortunately as my mother would often remind me, Grace is not my middle name. Sometimes I unintentionally say or do things that hurt or offend others. I apologize. I am simply trying to be the best woman, wife, mother, sister, cousin, and friend that I can be. I had the absolute best role model in the whole wide world and I can only hope that as she watches over me from Heaven, she is proud of the woman and mother I have become.

Friday, June 1, 2012

Baby Bump Envy

It's been five weeks today since we did the embryo transfer. By my calculations, I would've been 8 weeks pregnant tomorrow. I'm sure over the next year I'm going to constantly be thinking about our little bean and wondering how far along in my pregnancy I would've been for various ocassions and holidays. It's hard not to think about things like that, especially considering the fact that everywhere I go, I'm bombared by the sight of pregnant bellies. Church, the grocery store, taking my little man to therapy, the mall, the park, etc. It's kind of like when you're considering buying a new car. Suddenly, everywhere you look, it seems like everyone is driving the car you want. I'd be lying if I said I wasn't envious of all those baby bumps.

I've had several family members and friends tell me that maybe we weren't meant to have any more children; that maybe our son was meant to be an only child. It may sound extreme, but the only thing I can compare this to would be telling someone who's lost a limb that maybe they weren't meant to have all four limbs; that they shouldn't bother getting a prosthetic limb. I'm sure am amputee wouldn't appreciate hearing that sentiment anymore than a couple who wishes to have another child wants to hear that they should simply be content with one. I realize that many people simply don't know what to say when they encounter a couple who is dealing with infertility or has suffered a miscarriage; however, sometimes it's best to simply say, "I'm sorry." My husband and I want more than anything to give our son a sibling. I don't think that makes us selfish. Many people have more than one child and no one frowns upon their desire to expand their families. Why should couples who face infertility be treated any differently?

We've spent the last few weeks researching adoption laws here in our state, as well as reading various books written by adoption industry professionals who have adopted children themselves. The books have been particularly helpful because they've helped us consider things that we hadn't before, for example, do we want to specify gender, are we willing to adopt a baby that was exposed to drugs in utero, etc. We still have a few questions that we haven't come to a consensus on, but I know we will as we go through the adoption process. I initiated that process today by emailing the agency that we have chosen to work with. Now the waiting begins. I should get an email back in about a week or so and then we have to attend an information meeting which is actually more of a question and answer session. We'll find out more about adoption in general, as well as the specifics of adopting through that agency. Once we complete that we will need to fill out an application and wait to see if the agency feels we are a good fit.

We're about to embark on a journey into the great unknown but I know in my heart that we are on the right path. While I know I will still occasionally be envious of all of those pregnant bellies that I seem to be surrounded by wherever I go, it no longer matters that I won't be the one with the baby bump. In fact, lately, when I encounter a baby bump, I've begun to wonder if maybe that woman is the birth mother of our future son or daughter. All that matters now is finding the little one out there somewhere who is waiting to be welcomed into our family.