Sharing Ada's picture

On my birthday, my sister-in-law came over to see me along with my little niece and nephew. My niece, Julie, is two and a half, and I love her so much. Her little brother, Evan, is 6 months old and he's one of the happiest babies I've ever seen. Anyway, I showed Monica the box for Ada and the picture of her that's inside. It was the first time that I've shown anybody the original picture. Monica cried, but I think she was happy to see Ada. Julie came over, and Monica let her see the picture. Julie held it with both hands and stared at it very seriously for a long time. Monica and I were both wondering what she would say, and finally after she kept studying the picture she pointed to Ada's head to where it was a little bloody and said, "Ada died." She said that about 10 times, and Monica and I took turns talking to her about it. Then she said, "Ada is sad," and I told her that I am sad because Ada isn't with me anymore. Julie came to visit me in the hospital and several times since then she has said "You were sad in the hospital." So, Julie made the connection when she looked at the picture and said, "This was in the hospital." I thinks she understood as much as any two-year-old can. Later on, I took some pictures of her and Evan with my camera and I showed them to her, and she asked to see Ada's picture on my camera too. Sadly, I don't have any pictures of Ada on my camera.

I have been very touched by Julie's response to losing her baby cousin. She also has named one of her baby dolls Ada. When I was still pregnant, if I pointed to my stomach and asked what it was, she would say, "Beth is gonna have a baby" and she always called her Baby Ada. I'm glad to know that Julie hasn't forgotten.

Here are some pictures of my sweet little niece:

Here is Julie taking care of her baby Ada

Julie and Evan on my birthday

Frustration

At my two week checkup after Ada was born, our doctor told us that we could try again right away. This past month was really our first chance to try, and today I found out that I'm not pregnant. I'm just disappointed, because I really wanted this to happen quickly for us. Last time it took us about 4 months, which I know is better than average (6 months - 1 year), but it felt like forever. At least nobody at all knew that we were trying, so I never felt any pressure - this time I feel like the whole world knows (and I guess they do now that I'm writing this)! I was just really hoping that it would happen right away for us this time. Plus, my due date would have been about a week or two after school gets out, which would have been perfect. I guess, looking on the bright side, this is giving my body more time to heal and giving us a little more time to mourn Ada. But still, I really want to be pregnant by her due date (Nov. 5) or at least by Christmas, because I think it will make those days easier for me.

On a different note, today I started crying when I least expected it. I can talk about Ada and not cry, or show Ada's box to a friend and not cry, but today I was in Michael's when I saw some really cute pregnancy scrapbooking stickers and I immediately got tears in my eyes. The one that got to me said "Nine months." I had to turn around and pull myself together before I walked around like an idiot crying in Michael's. It's so weird, because earlier I had even been looking at some kind of display of crafts to make for new babies, and that didn't bother me. It just came out of the blue.

Happy birthday to me

Today is my birthday.
I would have hit 34 weeks today.
Ada was born 10 weeks ago from today.
I am now 27. I know that's not old, but it kind of feels like it. When my mom was my age she already had 2 kids (and a miscarriage). I'm glad Hunter and I waited, but I want to start a family too.

Packing Ada's things

I mentioned in a previous post that we have been repainting the nursery and I thought this would be a good time to pack up Ada's things. So, tonight I went out and got a box. I went to Linens N Things first because it's closing and I thought I might find something good, but there was nothing. I really didn't know what I was looking for, but it wasn't there. I started to drive over to a different store when I passed Ross and thought I really should check it out. I did a U-turn because I just just had this nagging feeling that I should go there. I found something at first that I thought I might get, but then I saw it...the perfect box. I'm not normally into the pink and flowery type of stuff, but for some reason it reminded me of Ada. I was afraid everything might not fit, but as you'll see in the pictures it was the perfect size. I know a box is kind of a weird thing to take pictures of, but this was an important moment for me because Ada's things will now be packed away and the room will go back to being a nursery, not Ada's room. I'm going to keep the box in my closet. If there is ever a fire, it is at the top of my list of things to grab.

Here is the box! The colors look kind of funny because I have a crappy camera.

I could not believe how the two biggest items fit in the box! It was so perfect! This is Ada's baby book and the box that the hospital gave us with her footprints and stuff in it. I had been writing in her baby book the night before we found out she was gone. The baby book also has a little box attached and that's where all of her ultrasound pictures and stuff are. The programs and a copy of the prayer from Ada's service are lying underneath everything.

Before I packed this away, I thought I should put a picture of it on here. This is the stocking that my mom made for Ada - obviously, it's not quite finished. A lot of work and love went into it.

Here is the box with everything in it. I treasure every one of those cards.
(Yes, the blanket has been washed since the hospital.)

And while I'm at it, here is a shot of the room with its new paint job:

Just say something

Tonight I was talking with my sister-in-law, Monica. She told me that she had been reading my blog and apologized in case she had ever said anything to offend me. I guess when I write about what people should know about pregnancy loss, it makes everybody on edge because they realize that they might say something I don't want to hear. Don't worry about that though! Nobody should feel like they need to apologize to me. Monica has been one of the main people I have been able to talk to over the past few months. When I think about her, I think about somebody who truly cares about how I feel and who will listen to me ramble on and on about what I have been going through. There is no reason she should ever apologize to me! :)

So, what is most important for others to know is not what "not to say", but rather...just say something. Like I told Monica tonight, not a single person has offended me. Yes, there have been a couple of comments that made me cringe, but you know what I remember? It's not their words, but rather the fact that the person cared enough to talk to me about Ada. So if you know anybody who is going through something like this, or really any hard times at all, don't fret over what to say or not to say. Just say something. And listen. Because that is what they will remember in the end.

Repainting Ada's Room

When Hunter and I bought our house last summer, we decided to go ahead and let one of the bedrooms be a nursery since we planned to start trying soon. I picked the room with chair railing because I thought it could look really nice when it's painted two colors. We painted it yellow below the railing and white above the railing, but we were never happy with the way it looked. Both of the shades we had chosen just were not right, and we had gotten quite a few gray splotches of primer on the trim. It didn't look too bad, but it just wasn't what we had in mind.

A couple of weeks ago we had to paint a spot on the outside of the house and we decided to go ahead and get paint to redo the nursery as well. Hunter knew that I really did not enjoy painting, so yesterday he surprised me. I was gone all day and when I got home, he had completely repainted the whole room! I had no idea he was going to do that. The yellow still needs another coat and we're going to redo the trim, but it already looks a whole lot better. It's a little lighter than what we wanted (the previous yellow was too bold, like a lemon), but it's not bad. It's about the same color as butter. The white looks a million times better because it's not as bright and shiny.

On the one hand I am glad that we decided to redo the room a little bit so it won't feel like the next baby (whenever there is one) is taking over Ada's room. On the other hand, I feel like the next baby is getting a better paint job than Ada would have gotten...so I like to think that we would have redone it anyway. At any rate, I am so thankful for Hunter's thoughtfulness. Maybe when we put all of the furniture and stuff back in the room it will be a good time for me to put all of Ada's stuff in a special storage box. I think this is going to help me move forward.

The previous post

I thought I should clarify a few things from my last post. Since I didn't write the letter about what to do when someone loses a pregnancy, not everything on that list applies to me. Let me just break it down...

What doesn't apply to me (or what I disagree with):

- I always wanted Ada. This was a planned pregnancy, so even though it mentions feelings of guilt about not being sure about the pregnancy, I never felt anything like that.
- I've mentioned this before, but I don't think it was God's Will. I disagree with the statement that "many terrible things are God's Will." You can read a previous post about that.
- I don't believe that Ada is an angel watching over me. I believe in heaven and I believe in angels, but I don't think that when people die they become angels...I remember reading about where angels come from one time but I can't remember where that is in the Bible. I guess I need to brush up on my angel theology and one of these days I'll look it up. But anyway, I never think of her as my guardian angel or call her my "angel baby"...that term actually makes me cringe every time I hear it.
- I actually really did needed to hear that this wasn't my fault. I went through a really hard phase about a week after Ada was born when I was convinced it was my fault. My mom and Hunter told me repeatedly that it wasn't, and finally after a long and weepy conversation with Hunter I realized that it wasn't. But still, I understand what the person who wrote that was saying...it just doesn't apply to me. And I do get mad at my body sometimes.

The parts that stood out to me:

- The part about moving on...it's been two months and I feel like everybody expects me to have moved on already. If your child died, would you be over it in two months?
- The part about loving your baby no matter how far along you are in your pregnancy
- The part about not changing the subject when I bring up Ada. I hate it that talking about my baby makes others uncomfortable. She was a huge part of my life and I can't pretend that it didn't happen. I've been reading The Prince of Tides and the mother is crazy and makes her kids crazy because she tries to pretend like all of the horrible things that happened to them didn't really happen. That's just not healthy. I need to talk about her.
- The part about "you can always have another one" - I sure hope we have more children, but Ada will always be our first. Hunter and I both are worried about treating our next child differently because of what we've been through. Hopefully we won't (at least not in a bad way), but no matter what we will never forget Ada and we will always love her.
- All of the things that it tells you to do, like say you're sorry or send a note or whatever. I still keep getting emails and cards, and they are all so touching. It really helps to know that others are thinking about us. I usually don't respond because it can be kind of overwhelming for me, but if you have sent a card or email know that Hunter and I both have read them all and that it has really helped us to know that we are not alone. Sometimes now I feel more alone or forgotten than I ever did in the hospital or in the week or two after Ada's delivery. All of the notes - cards, emails, comments, etc. - help me to know that others miss Ada, too.

Two months

Today marks two months since little Ada was born. We found out she was gone on the 14th, but I was in labor for quite a while so we didn't meet her until the 16th. I am glad that she wasn't born on the same day we found out - I now think of July 14, 2008 as the worst day of my life, but I think of July 16 as the day I got to meet Ada. I'm glad those two dates are not the same.

It's hard to believe that it's been two months. In some ways it feels like everything was yesterday - I can still remember the details quite vividly - but in other ways it feels like that was ages ago and have I really just been grieving for 2 months? I do think that I'm doing better every day, and there has definitely been an improvement over the last week or two.

Still, there are times when it's very hard. This is a post that I got from a friend's blog (one of the links on the right) and I thought I should share it on here.

What we wish you knew about pregnancy loss:

A letter from women to their friends and family by Elizabeth Soutter Schwarzer I assert no copyright for the material. Please use it as you see fit to help women who have endured this terrible grief. Thank you.

Date: Sat, 23 Mar 2002

When women experience the loss of a child, one of the first things they discover they have in common is a list of things they wish no one had ever said to them. The lists tend to be remarkably similar. The comments are rarely malicious - just misguided attempts to soothe. This list was compiled as a way of helping other people understand pregnancy loss. While generated by mothers for mothers, it may also apply similarly to the fathers who have endured this loss.

When trying to help a woman who has lost a baby, the best rule of thumb is a matter of manners: don't offer your personal opinion of her life, her choices, her prospects for children. No woman is looking to poll her acquaintances for their opinions on why it happened or how she should cope.

*Don't say, "It's God's Will." Even if we are members of the same congregation, unless you are a cleric and I am seeking your spiritual counseling, please don't presume to tell me what God wants for me. Besides, many terrible things are God's Will, that doesn't make them less terrible.

*Don't say, "It was for the best - there was probably something wrong with your baby." The fact that something was wrong with the baby is what is making me so sad. My poor baby never had a chance. Please don't try to comfort me by pointing that out. -Don't say, "You can always have another one." This baby was never disposable. If had been given the choice between loosing this child or stabbing my eye out with a fork, I would have said, "Where's the fork?" I would have died for this baby, just as you would die for your children.

*Don't say, "Be grateful for the children you have." If your mother died in a terrible wreck and you grieved, would that make you less grateful to have your father?

*Don't say, "Thank God you lost the baby before you really loved it." I loved my son or daughter. Whether I lost the baby after two weeks of pregnancy or just after birth, I loved him or her.

*Don't say, "Isn't it time you got over this and moved on?" It's not something I enjoy, being grief-stricken. I wish it had never happened. But it did and it's a part of me forever. The grief will ease on its own timeline, not mine - or yours.

*Don't say, "Now you have an angel watching over you." I didn't want her to be my angel. I wanted her to bury me in my old age.

*Don't say, "I understand how you feel." Unless you've lost a child, you really don't understand how I feel. And even if you have lost a child, everyone experiences grief differently.

*Don't tell me horror stories of your neighbor or cousin or mother who had it worse. The last thing I need to hear right now is that it is possible to have this happen six times, or that I could carry until two days before my due-date and labor 20 hours for a dead baby. These stories frighten and horrify me and leave me up at night weeping in despair. Even if they have a happy ending, do not share these stories with me.

*Don't pretend it didn't happen and don't change the subject when I bring it up. If I say, "Before the baby died..." or "when I was pregnant..." don't get scared. If I'm talking about it, it means I want to. Let me. Pretending it didn't happen will only make me feel utterly alone.

*Don't say, "It's not your fault." It may not have been my fault, but it was my responsibility and I failed. The fact that I never stood a chance of succeeding only makes me feel worse. This tiny little being depended upon me to bring him safely into the world and I couldn't do it. I was supposed to care for him for a lifetime, but I couldn't even give him a childhood. I am so angry at my body you just can't imagine.

*Don't say, "Well, you weren't too sure about this baby, anyway." I already feel so guilty about ever having complained about morning sickness, or a child I wasn't prepared for, or another mouth to feed that we couldn't afford. I already fear that this baby died because I didn't take the vitamins, or drank too much coffee, or had alcohol in the first few weeks when I didn't know I was pregnant. I hate myself for any minute that I had reservations about this baby. Being unsure of my pregnancy isn't the same as wanting my child to die - I never would have chosen for this to happen.

*Do say, "I am so sorry." That's enough. You don't need to be eloquent. Say it and mean it and it will matter.

*Do say, "You're going to be wonderful parents some day," or "You're wonderful parents and that baby was lucky to have you." We both need to hear that.

*Do say, "I have lighted a candle for your baby," or "I have said a prayer for your baby."

*Do send flowers or a kind note - every one I receive makes me feel as though my baby was loved. Don't resent it if I don't respond.

*Don't call more than once and don't be angry if the machine is on and I don't return your call. If we're close friends and I am not responding to your attempts to help me, please don't resent that, either. Help me by not needing anything from me for a while.

If you're my boss or my co-worker:

*Do recognize that I have suffered a death in my family - not a medical condition.

*Do recognize that in addition to the physical after effects I may experience, I'm going to be grieving for quite some time. Please treat me as you would any person who has endured the tragic death of a loved one - I need time and space.

*DO understand if I do not attend baby showers/christening/birthday parties etc. And DON'T ask why I can't come. Please don't bring your baby or toddler into the workplace. If your niece is pregnant, or your daughter just had a baby, please don't share that with me right now. It's not that I can't be happy for anyone else, it's that every smiling, cooing baby, every glowing new mother makes me ache so deep in my heart I can barely stand it. I may look okay to you, but there's a good chance that I'm still crying every day. It may be weeks before I can go a whole hour without thinking about it. You'll know when I'm ready - I'll be the one to say, "Did your daughter have her baby?" or, "How is that precious little boy of yours? I haven't seen him around the office in a while."

Above all, please remember that this is the worst thing that ever happened to me. The word "miscarriage" is small and easy. But my baby's death is monolithic and awful. It's going to take me a while to figure out how to live with it. Bear with me.

Some good news

During Ada's autopsy, they were not able to do any genetic tests because they weren't able to grow the cells. (I'm not entirely sure what that means, but I'm guessing it's because she died possibly a week before she was born and it had been too long.) We'll never know if Ada had any genetic problems, although we doubt she did, but Hunter and I did decide to both get our chromosomes tested. We finally got the results back on Friday, and we are both normal and aren't carriers of any conditions. This means that if Ada did have any kind of genetic condition, it was totally random and shouldn't affect any future children.

My other good news is that I seem to be doing a lot better lately. Over the past week I think I have had one bad day, and it wasn't even all that bad. This weekend was really good because we went up to Clemson to go to the football game (well, I went at least - somehow I married a man who doesn't like sports) and we visited with a lot of family and friends. The only sad part came on Saturday night. See, when Hunter and I spread Ada's ashes on the beach, we only did it with half of them. Hunter's dad is taking the other half to some family land in Arizona. Ada had actually even been there back in April on our trip out west when Hunter took me to show me the ranch. So, this weekend we took the other half of the ashes to Hunter's dad so he can spread them the next time he goes out there. After we spread Ada's ashes at the beach I tried to forget that we had the other half - in my mind, I had already told her goodbye. Still, in the back of my mind I knew that we still had a part of her. This weekend it was really hard for both of us to pass on that final piece of her to Hunter's dad. Really hard. But, I know he will take good care of her - he said that he will even carry the little jar in his pocket on the plane to make sure nothing happens.

Anyway, later that night we got together with some of our good friends, including new babies Eric and Hope that I mentioned in this post. A little part of me was sad thinking about Ada and how she will miss out on getting to be friends with them, but for the most part I just enjoyed being with our friends and getting to hold the babies. It was my first time to meet little Eric! Holding him didn't make me sad or mad or jealous or anything like that - I just enjoyed holding a sweet baby boy...that is, until his diaper leaked all over my jeans! Anyway, I took that as a sign that I must be doing better. Here is a picture of Hope and Eric - they were so cute together!

About blogging

I have had a lot of people thank me for keeping this blog, or tell me that they're surprised that I can write candidly about all that I have been going through. I appreciate that, but I think what everybody doesn't realize is that this is therapy for me! Putting all of my thoughts and feelings into words has just helped me so much.

I have loved reading the comments on Ada's picture, and they just keep coming. I guess this is how it is for a parent when they send out birth announcements or watch people's reactions to seeing the new baby for the first time. I feel pride when I look at little Ada's picture. I know it's not much (it's actually larger than real life!), but she was perfect. Sometimes it makes me sad to think that this is all I will get, but I try to just enjoy it for what it is. :) So, thank you, for letting me share my Ada with you.

Ada's Picture

I decided that I would like to share Ada's picture with anybody who wants to see it. I'm not posting it directly on the blog, but you can click here to see it. She pretty much just looks like a tiny sleeping baby. I doctored the photo a little bit, as you can tell. I gave her a little hat! It looks pretty silly, and definitely not professional, but the top of her head didn't look too great and I wanted everybody to notice her good features instead. You know how you have three sections of your fingers - well, her hands were so tiny that one of them fit on that tip of my index finger. Her face really did look better right after she was born, and this isn't a very good angle, but I hope you can see what a sweet little mouth and chin she had. That's the part of her that really looked like Hunter!

If you do choose to look at this picture, please leave a comment. I just want to know who saw our baby.

Blessings

One of my friends from college recently lost her baby at 27 days old. The other day she wrote a post on her blog about the blessings that she and her husband have seen in the loss of their daughter - you can read it here. Anyway, she has inspired me to do the same.

1. We got to hold Ada. I am so extremely thankful that I got to hold her and examine her tiny little features. This would be a million times harder for me if I hadn't gotten to see my baby. Some days I'm sad, and other days I am just extremely thankful that I got to meet her. She was one of God's most beautiful creations. I'm also thankful for the ultrasounds we had where we got to see her kicking and waving to us.

2. We were in such great hands at the hospital. I really had never realized how hard a nurse's job is. I am so thankful that they hugged me, made sure Hunter ate, explained everything that was happening to me, made sure I wasn't in much pain, helped me get around after the delivery, and a bunch of other things that I won't mention because they're kind of gross. :) Hunter and I have had many conversations about how wonderful those nurses are and how they helped us make it through those two days in the hospital. Even the lady from the lab that came to take blood after the delivery was wonderful - she told me how 3 of her own children (including a set of twins) were stillborn. I'll never forget her telling me to "Never give up" with tears in her eyes. She now has a grown daughter.

3. As far as we can tell, Ada never suffered. Since the oxygen was cut off slowly, she probably experienced something similar to what carbon monoxide poisoning feels like - meaning, she just fell asleep.

4. We lost Ada in the summer, giving me a month to recover physically and emotionally before returning to school. Emotionally I haven't completely recovered yet, of course, but I am doing much better now. I could not have functioned if I had gone straight back into teaching. Also, I'm glad it was during the summer because my mom was able to leave for Florida within a few minutes of us getting the news and she stayed here for a week. I don't know if she could have been with me for that long if school had been going on.

5. My body has recovered perfectly. There were absolutely no problems during delivery and my body has returned to normal. The doctor said losing Ada shouldn't interfere with future fertility in any way. And yes, we plan to try again.

6. We have had so much support from family and friends. I have a huge stack of cards in Ada's room that we received in the weeks following her death. Some of those cards are from people I haven't seen in at least 5 years. For about a week the highlight of my day was checking the mail. I would smile and cry at the same time when I saw who all had remembered us by sending a card. We also got lots of different plants/flower arrangements that brightened up our home. We're going to plant a few of them in one area of our yard. And also, several people made donations to Heifer International in Ada's name, giving hope to children who wouldn't have it otherwise. We also had several people send meals and a couple of people have even sent me books to comfort me. I am thankful for all of the wonderful people that God has brought into our lives.

7. Ada had a beautiful memorial service. My sister asked our former pastor and friend, Courtney Krueger, if he could help with the service somehow, and he pretty much insisted the he fly down here to be with us. When he did our pre-marital counseling and wedding I never imagined that he would ever do our baby's memorial service five years later, but I am so happy it worked out that way. His presence during those couple of days was so comforting. The service was in our living room and it was very informal - that was exactly what we needed.

8. God gave us a beautiful sunrise on the morning we sprinkled Ada's ashes.

9. I have become a much more sensitive person since Ada's loss. I have learned to realize that you never know what other people are going through. I am more sensitive to my students. In the last week I've sent three cards that I probably never would have sent if this hadn't happened, and I know they're the first of many. I've learned that when people are going through a rough time, the one thing you can do to help is to let them know that you are thinking about them - or at least, that's what has helped us.

10. I have learned what a miracle life is and I am much more appreciative of it now. From now on when I hear that a baby has been born and that "both mom and baby are healthy" I won't take that for granted.

11. My relationship with Hunter has reached a deeper level than it ever had before. We have always been extremely close and communicated well, but now I feel like we are even more open and honest. It's almost like we don't need words.

12. God has used this time to teach me a lot about his will. I will be honest and say that I am still troubled by some things, but I can tell that it is a part of the process and I can feel my faith being strengthened.

Do I look 7 months pregnant?

Today a student from last year saw me in the hall and asked when the baby is due. I was sort of shocked. I told my students I was pregnant around the middle of May when I was 3 months along, and now I would be 7 months pregnant. I know I'm not exactly skinny, but I do not look 7 months pregnant. This same student has one of my other friends for her math class- this teacher is due a week before I was and she is very obviously pregnant. I know this student is a kid, but come on. She is in 8th grade. Doesn't she realize I don't look like her math teacher? I guess kids just don't make the connections. She knows I was pregnant when school got out, so in her mind I must still be pregnant. But doesn't she realize how many months have passed? Doesn't she realize what I should look like by now?

And of course, all of this was a reminder that I should be 7 months pregnant. I should have that big belly and by now it would be obvious to the world that I'm pregnant. I only ever had one stranger notice that I was pregnant, and that was when I was on a walk and I intentionally wore one of my maternity shirts that made my stomach look really big. It was about a week before we found out Ada was gone. I thought it was really cool for a complete stranger to notice. I still see that lady out walking every morning now when I'm on my way to school and some weird part of me wants to stop and tell her about what her nice comment that day still means to me.

Anyway, I've been doing better for the most part and I'm not nearly as sad as I was earlier this week. Still, I just wish I didn't have to say, "Actually, I lost the baby" to that girl when she asked me about my due date today.

Could we start again please?

Last night Hunter and I talked about how sometimes all of the events from the past couple of months seem so unreal. Sometimes I just feel like it was all a nightmare and I'm going to wake up any minute now and still be pregnant. I remember feeling that way a lot when we first found out that we lost Ada, but I can't believe that I still feel that way now. I just want to go back in time. I know there's probably nothing that I could have done to prevent Ada's death, but I just feel like if I could go back and be extra careful, maybe I could somehow. I wonder if this would have happened if I had spent that week lying in bed, eating nothing but the healthiest food you can imagine, and not using things like bug spray or cleaning products. It's probably silly, I know, but I can't help it.

I've been feeling pretty sad today. Yesterday I watched a movie and there was a scene with a mother, father, and their new baby sleeping in the hospital side by side. The camera zoomed in on the baby and he moved a little. I just found myself wishing that it could have been us and I started to cry. I have nothing profound to say about it; I'm just sad.

I tried to find the song from JCS that this post is named after and have it playing because it seems more or less appropriate. The music player I use didn't have it though, but here's the video from YouTube. I'm not comparing my life to Mary Magdalene's or anything weird like that...I just really like the song and I think the sentiment is similar. You'll want to pause the music player on the right before you play the video.