Progress

I love seeing my six represented together. This picture speaks my heart tonight. My kids are my love and my life. They take up most of my time each day as I serve them. My heart has two holes I'm learning to live with. But I'm not sad tonight, just living and breathing, and thinking about my children. There is not a moment Vick and Tess are not in my thoughts. And this week has been a week of healing. I've done things I can't believe I did. And I'm healing...on my terms. I wish people could understand that. They can't rush my healing. It has its own time frame and process that even I don't know. But each day my heart heals a tiny bit, and as long as I'm not feeling pressure to do something I'm not ready for, I gather enough strength to take the next step forward. It's a long journey, and I've got some raw spots I need to continue to protect. But its happening.  I'm putting away my desire for another baby, I am a student with a new beginning. I cannot change what has happened, and now I'm going to move forward and accomplish some other dreams I've had. I'm giving myself permission to do that. This wasn't the way I dreamed it would be. Now I'm going to move forward with my life as it is. It feels good to make that decision. Its been looming over me for months. I don't know if it's really my decision or not, but I'm attempting to take control of something that I can: my future. Here's to my six children and my dream of becoming a teacher. 

Hope

I love this picture. When I see it I feel that flutter of hope that takes me into the future to the day my hubby and I will raise our angel children. I can't even imagine how joyous that day will be when we can cuddle our babies in our arms and watch them grow. The day I hear Tesslee cry and see her beautiful eyes staring into mine will be one of the happiest day of my future. When I feel my Victor kicking in my womb there will be no words that describe my joy and my love. To experience pregnancy again only this time in a perfect world where there is no death and no fear of loss, only guarantees of raising my children I've waited for and loved so long will be ultimate happiness. I love all that this picture means to me.   

How I Am

It's been a while since I've checked in. Well, it's true about the second year being harder. The past few weeks have proven so. I wish they hadn't, I didn't need any proof. I didn't know there was pain like this. And speaking of it makes my heart wince and go numb. It needs a break. But one thing I've learned is even though I don't think I can take another breath, or live another minute in such a raw emotional state, I can. I prove that to myself every day, sometimes every minute. It's both deeply depressing and hopeful at the same time. Depressing that I have a long long long time to miss my babies, a life time to live without them. Yet also hopeful to feel that I have hurt this much and continue to live. It proves that I am getting stronger everyday, strong enough to bear this immense burden. Strong enough to fake it every day and carry on conversations with people when my head is not in it. Strong enough to raise my other children and begin to see that life has beautiful moments still. I hate that I get to bear this, but what choice do I have? I think of my angels, I would do anything for them, so yes, if it means be the one who goes through this, then I would do it for them.

Lately I have been lonely as ever. In many ways I've had to shut down. I left most of my support groups, I stopped visiting the graves, I stopped wearing my angels' birthstones, I guess I hoped that it would all go away if I ignored it. It hasn't. In some ways it feels refreshing, and in some ways it kills me. I am searching for ME. I miss the innocence and care free nature of the old me. And I'm still discovering who this new me is. I guess I'm mourning not only my children, but the loss of innocence. I continually remember thoughts and memories I had before I knew death. When I see that I lived 30 years and brought 4 live babies home without understanding life the way I now do, I really struggle being angry at myself. Sever resentment. I wouldn't give my new insight away for anything, but sometimes I'm so jealous when I see other people living in that blissful ignorance. I long to live life carefree and ignorant to the fact that babies- what are supposed to be the most joyous event of one's life, could be the most devastating. I wish I didn't have to check multiple times a night to see if my children are still alive. I wish I didn't constantly tell myself when I send my kids off somewhere that this might be the last time I ever see them. I hate living like I'm bracing myself for being blindsided.

God gave me the gift both times of knowing my babies were going (or already gone) before it was actually certain. I kept getting this recurring thought that Tesslee was dead, even though it wasn't something I would accept... That night laying in bed, knowing she was dead, but feeling her kick all night long, there is no describing that pain, wishing so desperately for your child to be alive that your body wills itself to create the sensation of the baby kicks you knew and loved... and missed so deeply. And even though I saw Vick on the screen and my Dr. told me everything looked fine, not to give up hope, I already knew somehow that he would slip away. I cannot even imagine getting that news without the spiritual prompting to prepare me for it. I hope that the burden of carrying babies you will not get to raise in this life is worthy of some unfathomable reward in the next life. I've kind of resorted to thinking anything that will make me feel better in the moment to relieve some of the pain. So far it works temporarily. I like the thought of having some amazing reward for enduring this. Then I think of the Millenium and that I will be able to finish carrying them and raise them perfectly in a perfect world, that is reward itself.

Sometimes I don't think I can go on. Some nights it is too much and I get down on my knees and sob and just feel the excruciating pain and let it all flow out through my tears. I wish it could be taken away. I've had plenty of people tell me that if I would only allow the Savior to carry the burden for me then it would be easier. But they don't know. They don't know that sometimes the trial is to feel the pain, to endure the pain, to know what it is like to suffer like this. That is how compassion and empathy are developed. My heart is ripped out at the indescribable pain of child loss in any of its forms. My heart hurts desperately for the parents who are not able to conceive, and the families who suffer through infertility and secondary infertility. And I ache so deeply for the single adults who long for the dream they have of getting married and having children of their own.   I'm working on finding a way to balance grief and life. The scale has been tipped, and is very wobbly right now. I hope that someday I will figure out how to successfully live the role of  mom of 6: 4 here and 2 in Heaven. It's so hard.
 

A Piece of Heaven

I've had some wonderful experiences while learning how to search records, find people and prepare their names for temple work. The veil has been so thin and I have felt guided and led to specific information that would lead me to more, and then more, as I piece together my family's history. Last night was one of those moments I will always hold so dear to my heart.

I had a special moment with Vick as I felt him clearly beside me, guiding my thought process and leading me to finding three babies, all of whom had passed away before they could ever be recorded in a census record. I sat at my computer and sobbed while feeling Vick's message of love for me, and feeling the overwhelming love a mother who had been separated from her children through death felt as her forgotten babies were entered into the temple system. I cannot describe how it felt to be giving these special ones in my family tree this gift. Although I don't know much about them, I have pieced enough together through their records that I feel as though I know them and their children personally. I've gotten so emotional as I've found the death records of some of their children that never made it to adulthood, particularly the infants. That's what keeps me glued to this, understanding the anguish it is, and understanding the need a mother has of seeing and being with her lost child again someday. I realized last night that as difficult as this is to bear, my experience is being used as a tool to search out and ease the burdens of others who have been waiting for hundreds years to have the saving ordinances performed so they can be with their families forever. And while I am serving them, I feel so close to my own children there. They are with me. They are guiding me. The heavy pain in my heart vanishes when they are with me. It's not babies I am missing. It's them, their spirits.

Last night when he was with me, I felt so peaceful and completely alright as I could feel first hand and be a part of what he is doing. He is my child with a different mission. It is such a strange feeling to feel proud of my child, and at the same time can sense that my "child" is far ahead of me on every level.

It was a very special moment while feeling Vick next to me and experiencing the warmth of his spirit, when Ellee came in to get a drink and have a kiss and a hug. She was standing next to where I felt Vick was and it was special to "see" my youngest living child, and also "feel" my youngest spirit child (who is not so young) at the same time -one of those moments I will cherish forever.

I'll do anything I can to feel close to my Heavenly children. I wish I could be in their presence continually. I feel very blessed to have the knowledge of the gospel and to have been able to share in the blessings of the temples while here on the earth. I want to do everything I can to help my ancestors receive the same opportunities, with the Heavenly help of my Vick and my Tesslee.

Baby's Resting Place

Look how beautiful my Vick Baby's grave is.

This is my Heaven spot.

 

♥ you forever Victor.

The Tabloids

I hate the tabloids!!! I've done my best to avoid them for over a year now. They are excruciating the way they depict and portray pregnancy and childbirth. Today I returned home from shopping, emotionally irritated and angry. Everywhere my eyes were I saw some kind of report on a celebrity giving birth. One of the accounts said "delivery room drama" and I just wanted to shake whoever wrote that and scream, "Drama? Is the baby living? Then where's the drama!!!?"

It was horrifying having to divide time in the delivery room between welcoming Tesslee into this world, taking all of her beauty and birth in and having to let go, say goodbye and make arrangements for her body, simultaneously. There are no words that begin to express how horrifying it was and continues to be.

I am releasing this bitterness into the universe. I am done with it and moving on with my evening.

Thoughts

It always feels like someone is missing. I feel like I live in a foggy version of reality. It hurts my heart that the people who know my family naturally see nothing different than what they have ever known. Four kids. And those that don't know our family see four kids, but they don't know our story. Every scenerio that plays out haunts me... When I'm sitting in church with four kids beside me, my family is much larger than represented. Sometimes I purposely leave extra spaces on our bench for Vick and Tess , just trying to visualize how it SHOULD look. When I set the table for dinner, I have to really think. All these different numbers are swimming around in my head. 4 kids here... 5 that I have pictures with... 6 that are mine forever, 5 plates to set out if Mike is working, 6 if he's home, and 8 if we were blessed enough to be all together. It's so confusing and heart-tugging. Tonight 2 things pricked me really hard and are eating away at me, though I didn't have the energy to mention it t the time. At our dinner gathering I was asked to gather my kids for prayer, and all I wanted to scream was IF ONLY I COULD!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! YOU DON"T KNOW HOW CRAPPY IT IS TO NOT BE ABLE TO GATHER MY KIDS!!!!!!!!

The other thing was a question to a quiz we played about our fathers for Father's Day. The question was, "What was the day and time you became a father?" And the correct answer was supposed to be the birthday and time of your oldest child. I had to bite my tongue, but I held it as I listened to excruciating statements contemplating this. I did hear someone mention conception, which I was happy was represented, but in the end the right answer was the child's birthday. I know with all my heart that I became a mother the moment my first child was conceived, the very moment my womb carried life. That made me a mother. Not when my healthy, full term child cried for the first time. I was never forced to think about that until Tesslee's heart was silenced. I realize that my family has never been forced to view life in this way,  but I was Tesslee's mother for every second she was alive. And I carried my precious Victor for the 6 weeks he was given here on earth. It was at his conception that I became a mother for the 6th time. Its weird to be blogging over this type of stuff at 1:00 am, but I feel caught in a strange world where I see everything differently, but must continue on in the old world with these trivial mundane things that torture my heart when I hear them. I cannot believe how much my losses have changed me, altered me to the core.  Its overwhelming for my emotions.

My mind often ponders on the nature of these two incredible spirits. They are celestial beings. I like to think that Victor is this incredible spirit who had some very important work to do, and that he could only be spared for a blink of time because of his greatness.. That's how I choose to consider miscarriage. One day I hope my children's short lives make perfect sense. Until then, I will think what I will to make the separation the least painful as possible.