Pictures

I woke up this morning to myself planning a picture I've been meaning and dreaming of taking for months now. -Back up 8 months ago- After we found out Tesslee was gone I had a day to wait before delivering her. What an absolutely horrible day being pregnant with a baby no longer living. The thought popped into my mind a few times that I should take a belly shot of Tesslee before she was born since I hadn't gotten around to taking any. I dismissed that thought as quickly as it came, knowing I never wanted to see a belly shot of us together ever- it would be much too painful. So I never did.

About four months ago it hit me hard. I was desperate to see a picture of me pregnant with her. And there were none. I had been sick and didn't want any pictures taken of me. I looked everywhere trying to hunt down a picture -even if I was just the background. I had to have one picture of me with my sweet Tesslee alive. I called my sister-in-law to have her check her baby shower pictures to see if there were any with me in the background. Nothing. It is one of my life regrets. I decided the only thing I can ever do to make it up to myself is to take a picture of my future rainbow at 21 weeks holding a sign that says '21 weeks - For Tesslee.' And that has been my plan for months now. I've dreamed of that picture. It's helped me through some of the guilt. It means so much to me.

I was soooo excited to get to 21 weeks with Baby Vic's pregnancy so I could take that picture. I woke up this morning feeling hope for that moment... Oh wait... I'm not pregnant anymore. I forgot that I lost Baby Vic a couple weeks ago. Okay. Close that door. Lets try to reroute that thought. It is such an emotional task to 'undo' a pregnancy in my mind! And those stupid phantom kicks have shocked my heart a couple times yesterday and today. I am let down not only that our rainbow is not a rainbow after all, but also that picture will probably never come to be.
                                                                            
                                                                            *****
I am also very angry at myself for not having the Dr. print off the picture of the only ultrasound I had of Vic. How could I forget that? How could I walk out of that room without that picture, knowing what I feared would happen? I feel like history just repeated itself and it was totally in my hands! I feel like I let myself down again!

So in my attempt to be kind to myself  today, I am pretending that I am 21 weeks along in this picture that I was 24 weeks with Ellee. I hope this makes me feel better.

Surprise Package



 

I was sooo excited to get a package in the mail this week from Jordan Valley Hospital. I couldn't even imagine what it was. I totally ripped it open, hoping it wasn't some kind of extra thick hospital bill packaged in bubble wrap. Inside there was a beautiful glass ornament for the Christmas tree in Tesslee's memory. It came with a Christmas card letting us know they are thinking about us and our angel this holiday season. It also included an invitation to attend their annual memorial service in December for all the patients who passed away this year. What a thoughtful way to mourn and comfort those who are grieving. This is such a beautiful gift and completely brightened my day! I am very excited to attend the memorial service. It feels really good to feel excitement for a change.  

 

 

Thirteen Days

Thirteen Days

For thirteen days you were on my mind.

I dreamed of your cry. I pictured your eyes staring back at me.

I was cauteous with my heart and tried not to let you,

but you preoccupied me.

For thirteen days I spoke to you.

You had a place in our family. We gave you a name.

I began to see the light of a rainbow emerging from the darkness.

You were our little secret. You brought hope to July.

I saw you on the screen.

You were there. You lived.
I could tell when you left.

With my heart breaking, I held you in my hands on the thirteenth day.

I did not give you up easily.

Thirteen days seemed like a lifetime to me.

It was. It was your life time.

  I am grateful to God for allowing me to spend every single moment

of your life, my precious child, with you.

I love you, Baby Vic. Your life was so brief.
Your memory will live in my heart much longer.

In memory of our Victor Port Millward 
miscarried at 6 weeks November 13, 2012

 

Life

I refuse to minimize the miracle of life at its earliest stages. I felt it drawing on me. I felt when it left me. I cannot deny it. Tesslee's experience made me very aware, maybe uncommonly aware of the life growing inside me. I am offended when people try to minimize our loss by expressing, "6 weeks... Well, most people don't even know they are pregnant at that stage." Is that even relevant? I did. We did. We live in a culture that downplays God's intricate handiwork. And I will not. I loved it, I saw it, I held it, it was our baby and I cry over it. I am forever changed.

Mike

I am beyond grateful for my husband, Mike. While sharing the experiences of our angels, grieving for them and helping each other through this, I continue to love him more and more. I used to find the differences in the way husbands and wives think very frustrating. You know... Mars and Venus. I've secretly thought before that our marriage would be a lot happier if he only thought the way I did. Men compartmentalize things, women have everything connected together and it has been very annoying and difficult at times.

The other day, though, something clicked as I witnessed the expertise and blessing of men being able to think in different terms than women. I was having a rough time. Mike was getting ready for work. We talked about what I was feeling and Mike tried to comfort me as best as he could. He expressed that he was hurting, in disbelief, and devastated over the losses of our angels, as well. The heartache was more than I could handle, so I curled up in bed, too overwhelmed to do anything else. Mike turned the light off, shut the door quietly, and told the kids goodbye and to take care of their mom while he went to work. I laid there in bed as I listened to him walk across the porch and out to the car. How was he able to handle these strong emotions of losing our babies, and the next minute be walking out the door to a long and possibly stressful shift at work? What a blessing it has been for me and our family that Mike has been able to continue to provide for our family, and not skip a beat with his responsibilities, although he is crushed inside, too. I'm so grateful for the strength and love he shows.

I love him so much. I love that he is here for me and that he allows me to cry horrid, slobbery cries in his arms. I wish he didn't have to see me at my worst, but am so grateful he is still right here by my side through all of this. He is my soul mate. His hugs are what ease my heartache. Thank you, God, for giving me Mike.

Thanksgiving 2012

Thanksgiving was hard to get through. It seemed to start the night before. I realized I didn't have the cream of mushroom soup I thought I did in the pantry, so I took a last minute trip to the store to pick some up. On the way home my heart was so heavy. I couldn't help but remember back to last year when we so happily announced Tesslee over Thanksgiving dinner. Fast forward to this year and I am grieving not only Tesslee, but the loss of our rainbow baby. How did life take such a turn? As I drove home at dusk, I was facing a sky on fire with color. Instantly, I became so angry, which shocked me because sunsets have always made me feel peace. In college I was given a blessing that stated that every time I see a sunset, it's a sign to me from Heavenly Father that He loves me. I surprised myself by snapping, "Don't even think its ok to take two babies from me this year and then paint me a sunset!" I parked the car and cried as the sun went down.

I am grateful to know, as I read a fellow angel mom's blog, that the same sunset offered a lot of comfort to her as she prepared for the Thanksgiving holiday, as well. So in retrospect, I am grateful that God painted it for her and that it offered her some peace at this difficult time of year.

I am really battling getting out of bed each morning. It just seems like so much nicer to stay in bed and hide from the heartache. Surprisingly, cooking a turkey was a huge motivation and I was excited to spend all day with just my family. We had no stress this year to get done at a certain time or be anywhere, which I loved!!! We just took our time preparing dinner and ate when the table was finally set and all the food was out of the oven. It was around 2:30 pm. We lit Tesslee's candle, which is doubling for Baby Vic's candle too until we get another. It was our table centerpiece this year. It felt so good having a place for both our angels at the table with us. We want to include them every year at our Thanksgiving dinner, as anything less wouldn't feel right.

I have a lot of bitterness inside right now. I hope that Heavenly Father will be patient with me while I work through this anger. I will say how lovely it was to spend the whole day lazing around with Mike and the kids. I feel stable and safe with them. They bring me so much happiness. I especially love to sit and watch them interact. Their little comments and teasings are so funny. I am tremendously thankful for them!

... I hope my angels enjoyed their Thanksgiving Day, and that they had a lot of happiness in whatever kept them busy. I'm happy they have each other, and am grateful for the hope that we can be with them again someday.

Church

It's really hard to get myself to church each week. I felt like after miscarrying I had a good excuse to stay home and "miss out" on all the sights and sounds of church. I am aware, that the reason I should be going to church is to partake of the sacrament, I just haven't mastered the art of controlling my emotions that come with all of this yet. I didn't feel stable in the least bit. I checked on my kids one last time before heading to bed and noticed my oldest two had laid out their Sunday clothes without me even mentioning to them it was church in the morning. I specifically hadn't said anything to them about church with the hope that it would slip silently by without one of them asking, "Why aren't we going to church today?" After seeing their clothes laid out, I couldn't disappoint them. So we went to church.

After dropping the kids off to their classes, I was walking down the hall when I noticed a pregnant woman ahead of me. I took a deep breath and continued on my way. As I passed, another woman came up to her and said, "How are you feeling?" "Ughhhh, I can't wait for this to be over!" she said loudly. I could not even believe what I had just heard. My ears started ringing. My heart felt stabbed to the core. I was livid! I just breathed in deeply and continued passing, trying to keep my focus.

Really?! Do you really mean you can't wait for it to be over?!!! Because it can be over in an instant!  Do you not have any idea what a miracle it is to be pregnant and have your baby alive and growing inside? I would give anything to have another day pregnant with my babies!

Buried

I am in disbelief that we buried our second baby this year. What an emotional experience to have to repeat. It was different with Tesslee, though. In the cemetery where the dead are gathered together, I know whats left of her body is safe, and in a respected, reverent place. It was heart wrenching and horrible to determine, with Mike, a resting place for another one of our children. Another one who we created, but never got the chance to know. This was a piece of both of us we were burying, one we thought would bring us so much healing and happiness.

The ground was cold and snow-covered. We decided on a spot that would be beautiful in the coming months. Mike pushed the shovel into the ground. Each time he brought up earth I felt my heart growing heavier. I hate the conversation we had of determining if the hole was deep enough. Parents should never have to have that conversation. It was cold. I was shaky. We said our little goodbyes, and Mike laid the tiny box in the hole. He solemnly covered our baby and our hopes and dreams with earth. We both shed sacred, quiet tears. He filled in the hole, packed the dirt down, and held me. I noticed an orange sunset in the distance. In that moment, I couldn't help but feel we were experiencing (in a very small way) some of the same emotions the pioneers surely felt, as they buried their babies on the prairie. I know they experienced much worse, but I felt a connection. Burying your child yourself in an unmarked grave, hoping it will be deep enough to withstand anything that might dig it up is something no parent should ever experience.

I will leave this post at that since I am realizing there are no words that touch how I feel inside. As we held each other and walked away, Mike said to me, "Just understand if I never bring this up again. It's only because its too painful." I am fine with that. I hope we are never called to repeat this experience again.  

Rhogam Shot

I walked into the room, about to get the shot I am routinely given within 48 hours of delivering a baby. I've had it many times. The nurse briefed me on it, not realizing I was fully aware of the way the thick syrup feels upon entering my upper buttock. She asked, "So do you know what you're having yet?" The question pricked my heart, but it was only a prick. My heart seemed numb and I was grateful. Her large pregnant belly seemed to mock me. I tried to ignore it. I answered her with, "No, I miscarried it yesterday." I waited for any sort of condolence, but there was none given. It hurt, but I could handle it. I was far, far away in my mind recalling the last time, 8 months ago, I was given this shot.

...Mike held me tight as we walked down the hall passing the framed mother & baby pictures that decorated the walls of the labor and delivery floor. I held Tesslee Bear even tighter, that's what she was given to me for, to fill my empty arms. She was a sorry excuse for a baby, but a treasure at the same time. She was doing her job very well. I squeezed her harder. We were almost to the elevator, when our nurse came running and calling us from behind. "Wait! Millwards, don't leave yet! We forgot to give you your Rhogam shot! I'm glad we caught you!" She pulled me into the closest room, had me bare my buttock, and injected the thick medicine into me. This was it. The cherry on top of this absolutely horrifying nightmare. A shot to whisk me on my way. We exited the hospital numbly...

The cold alcohol pad on my skin brought me back to the present. In a second it was done. I find it interesting that I felt nothing this time. There was nothing more to be felt. My heart had reached its capacity of pain for the day, and I am grateful for that. I wonder if I will ever again have that shot after delivering a living baby. But then again, that's what the Rhogam shot is for, to give me the opportunity to have a pregnancy again.

How I Feel

I can't ignore the dark bruises from the bloodwork, I feel them everytime I bend my arms. They are the only things I have left from this baby's first and only doctor appointment. My hip is tender from the rhogam shot. The cramping and bleeding...my deminishing physical remains of this pregnancy. Its hard to deal with. I'm having a hard time accepting that this pregnancy and this baby's life are over. Over before most knew it even existed. But we did. These physical reminders are nothing compared to the way I feel emotionally. I wonder what those wounds would look like if they were visible.

Miscarriage

A few weeks ago I wrote this on one of my support blogs for angel moms:

"I'm glad that I have this place to let some stuff out. I have to admit, I can feel the bitterness creeping in again. Its crazy and I don't understand it. I don't know who I'm mad at, I don't think its God, but I guess I'm not for sure. I'm just mad at the whole situation. I've been really hurt lately that I haven't been able to get pregnant. Although the thought of that terrifies me. I don't even know if I would be a good mom anymore to a newborn. I avoid all things baby like the plague just to stay emotionally stable. Its so hard because Tesslee was decidedly our last baby and I gave away all our boy stuff once we found out Tesslee was a girl, and now that her chapter is over and we are empty-handed, I go back and forth all the time on if I want another baby or not. I think the main reason I do is because I've heard that rainbows heal a lot of that brokenness, and I will do anything to heal my heart. But every time it doesn't happen it just adds to the bitterness. Today I found myself thinking "Well I didn't want a baby anyway." ??????? I think my heart is just so broken. Do you guys battle with bitterness? I just feel so lonely, sad, misunderstood by my family and friends and completely messed up inside."

... I found out I was pregnant later on that night, and discovered my conception and due date months were identical to Tesslee's. I cried and cried nightly for so many reasons I cannot begin to explain. I knew going through this pregnancy would be extremely difficult, reliving the milestones of Tesslee's pregnancy each month. I also knew this was a means of healing and although very difficult, bringing home a baby in July would redeem July for me.

I didn't allow myself to assume I was bringing this baby home. And sometimes at night I told this baby that I was sorry for all the strong emotions it was surely feeling. I tried desperately to relax and take control of my emotions. Although I wouldn't admit it, it really did feel good to feel life living inside me once again: my swollen, tender breasts, the need to eat every couple hours, the intense fatigue, ... I felt this baby drawing on my body and growing. I was growing our family's rainbow baby! It felt so good to have this secret. And then, I noticed something stopped.

Saturday night I felt something was wrong. I could tell my breasts were not tender anymore. I went all night without needing to snack every couple hours. I was immediately alarmed. I felt like its was slipping from me. I had a feeling that this baby would be miscarried. Of course I was only allowing the horrors of a bereaved mom take control of me. Surely God would not allow me to miscarry my rainbow. We had been trying to become pregnant and begin to heal for months now. I never miscarry. I'm healthy. I told Mike what I had noticed about my body. He gave me lots of support and told me to keep my mind in a positive place for this little one.

** I continue to post, with gratitude to the many others who have posted their very personal miscarriage stories for the the public to read. At this point I felt scared and desperate. I googled "miscarriages" and was grateful I was able to gather an idea of what to expect in the following few hours. I hope that sharing these private details of my experience will help another at some point. If you are bothered by my openness, please don't read on.**

Sunday I began to spot. Monday I was spotting heavier and beginning to cramp. I called the doctor's office. They had me come in immediately for my first appointment. My doctor did an ultrasound. I saw our little one with my eyes for the first time. Our beautiful, tiny miracle. The baby was in the right place, and my doctor said everything looked just fine and to not give up hope. He had me do routine blood work and wanted me to return in 48 hours to repeat the blood work to compare it. Seeing my baby calmed me some, but I still could not shake what I felt inside.

Monday night my bleeding increased, severe cramping set in and I went to bed early, knowing deep down what the outcome would be. I was up for hours breathing through burning, intense back cramps and labor-like pains. I don't remember falling to sleep, but I woke up at five in the morning in no pain at all. The cramping had stopped instantly. I was terrified, but rolled out of bed and went into the bathroom. I sat down on the toilet and felt clots pouring out. I grabbed the plastic cup I had on the counter and looked into the toilet, not wanting to lose my baby in all of it. I couldn't see a sac, just lots of blood and tissue. I wiped, felt a little bewildered, wondered what would be next, and continued to wait.

A couple minutes later I felt something large slide out and plop in the water. I knew exactly what it was. I immediately scooped it out. The entire grayish, whitish sac with my precious little baby was in the cup in my hands. I was shaking, yet felt an intense peace and reverence as I held our little miracle and examined it. I could see the eyes in the head, and an under-developed little body. There was such a reverence. I sat there and talked to it for a long time. I told it how much it was loved, and that I was heartbroken that it was not our rainbow, after all. I cannot put to words the intense feelings and emotions I felt that early morning hour there in the bathroom with my baby. 

After reflecting on experiences of others in my support groups, Mike and I decided we needed to bury our sixth little one. While I slept, he took the kids to the store to pick out a beautiful box to lay the baby to rest in. On the way, he explained to them what had happened. We had not told them I was even pregnant, but after having one angel they know and love, we could not keep the knowledge of this one from them.

Right now, my mind feels numb. Experiencing this has resurfaced a lot of the same emotions I dealt with earlier this year with Tesslee. I am feeling shock and disbelief that I was physically pregnant yesterday, and now I'm just not... again. It is a difficult thing to make my mind believe. I don't believe this has happened again. I am in utter disbelief that I could have 4 perfectly healthy pregnancies without any complications, and then experience a stillbirth and a miscarriage in the same lifetime, in the same year. I find myself battling feelings of anger and deep hurt. I trusted my Heavenly Father with my emotional health in trying for another child, hoping to heal from the last one. I did not feel strong enough to go through another loss right now. I feel let down and abandoned, although I know that could not be possible. I'm hurt beyond words. My Heavenly Father knows how I feel. I have told Him everything. I know He has a plan for me and that He is reshaping me into something better than I was. I hope it makes sense to me sooner than later. I miss this baby of mine with all of my broken heart.

Rainbow Baby

What is a Rainbow Baby?

     "A Rainbow Baby is a baby that is born following a miscarriage or still birth.
In the real world, a beautiful and bright rainbow follows a storm and gives hope of      things getting better. The rainbow is more appreciated having just experienced the storm in comparison. The storm (pregnancy loss) has already happened and nothing can change that experience. Storm-clouds might still be overhead as the family continue to cope with the loss, but something colourful and bright has emerged from the darkness and misery."                                                                     -www.urbandictionary.com
 
     "Rainbow Babies" is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn't mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope.
                                                                      ~Courtney,"  -www.babycenter.com