This Christmas

Christmas came just as fast as it went. The weeks leading up to Christmas were full of emotion. Some days I felt like I had things under control, that I was in a good place; Then, suddenly I wasn't. I knew visiting family would be difficult as I hadn't seen anyone in the months since we lost Sawyer. I knew waking up on Christmas morning would be sad as it would not be the Christmas I had envisioned since last January. I knew I had to be strong for my daughter. I knew I had to make Christmas as Christmasy as I could, for her. So, I pulled myself together. I shopped, I wrapped, I baked, I wrote cards. In the few months since our lives were torn a part I have noticed a pattern on specific dates. The anticipation of the date, in my experience has usually been worse than the actual date. The seventeenth of each month, Sawyer's due date (Thanksgiving Day), Halloween, they were all o.k days, aside from anticipating them. So once again, I thought Christmas would be the same.

And then this happened.*If anyone reads this and is offended, I apologize for the profanity.

We had been at my grandmothers for not even five minutes. We were all gathered around the living room enjoying each others company. My aunt asked our daughter what she wanted Santa to bring her and she replied, "A candy cane", my aunt then said, "Come on, really? Don't you want a baby?". My heart sunk. I wanted to scream, YES she wants a fucking baby, she wants her brother here and alive! How dare you use the word baby around me. Don't you know how I feel inside? But of course I didn't. I just sat there looking around in amazement as no one seemed to think that was odd to say in front of someone whose baby just died. Immediately after my uncle looked around the room while announcing, "I'm not sure who to look at, but we need more babies in this family". Um, what? Are you fucking kidding me? Is this actually happening right now?  I just had a baby, your niece. Do you remember? Do you not know the baby died and that saying such a thing is beyond inconsiderate? I looked at my husband across the room and he could tell that I had broke. I got up and left the room. There I was on Christmas Eve, curled up in my grandmother's bed, bawling. How could this be? My family is supposed to be my safe place. Didn't they share with each other before they came that this would be a tough Christmas for us? Don't they know how to act around someone who is so broken? Why don't they know? This was the beginning of my Christmas.

Christmas day wasn't as brutal. We had Christmas morning at my in laws and our daughter was so incredibly happy with all of the busyness, candy, chocolate and presents. We had brunch at my dads followed by Christmas dinner at my in laws. Nothing incredibly stupid was said and the day was over before we knew it.

One thing that continues to crush me is that Sawyer wasn't included in our Christmas with either side of our family. Nothing done in his memory. Nothing done for him or us, or our daughter. His name wasn't written on our cards or spoken. This saddens me to the core. Sawyer is our son. He is a much loved brother. He is a nephew and grandchild just like the other children in our family. I will never understand how the people around us don't think of these things. One tiny little gesture to let us know that you care, to acknowledge his existence, would have made our first Christmas without him a little more bearable. I guess I shouldn't say nothing was done, there were two special things done for Sawyer in the weeks before Christmas. My best friend gave me a willow tree figurine a week before Christmas. She said it was for Sawyer's first Christmas and hoped that it would bring me some comfort. This meant the world to me. I can't tell you how touched I was for her to think of this Christmas as Sawyer's first Christmas. Also, a few weeks before Christmas my mother and father in law bought an angel ornament for our daughter with the saying 'an angel is watching over you'. I love that this was done for her because she will always know when and why that ornament was given to her. I know I sound bratty expecting these things, but part of me, a big part of me, wanted to be overwhelmed with kindness this Christmas. Sawyer would have been spoiled and loved on so much if he were here. He may not be physically here, but trust me when I say he is here in my heart. He is just as much a part of my husband and I as our daughter is. Please don't forget about him as a part of our family. If someone would have bought a gift and donated it to a little boy or hospital in honour of Sawyer, I absolutely would have melted. I know I shouldn't expect these things and that I sound selfish for thinking this way, but I can't hide the truth. It's been eating away inside me. I think I feel this way because this is his 'first Christmas' and it is one that we have been anticipating for a long time. I am sure people are trying to 'protect' our feelings by not bringing him up. What they don't understand is that I am thinking of Sawyer and what happened 24/7. Talking about him and engaging my emotions is not going to crush me. It's going to lift me up knowing that he is cared about. I want him to be loved and thought of as much as our daughter.

This year I realized that Christmas isn't always a happy time of year. Prior to our loss I would decorate the house before December arrived. On December 1st we would get our tree. I would have my cards filled out and sent early. I would proudly say Merry Christmas to those around me. I never understood how people could say they didn't like Christmas. Now, unfortunately, I get it. I will no longer pass judgment on how people view certain holidays. The holidays can be a painful time of year. It can be a reminder of what we don't have. And for some, it can be a reminder of who we will never have. What I have tried to remember this Christmas is all that I DO have. I am thankful for many things this Christmas, including the son that I long to hold and squeeze tight.

Something happened a few nights before Christmas that made the upcoming days a little lighter. I was tucking our daughter into bed when she told me that baby Sawyer laid on her pillow and kissed her cheek. It put the biggest smile on my face and warmed my heart. To hear our daughter talk about her brother is so incredibly calming for me. I really hope her words are true. It made me feel that Sawyer was o.k. and that our daughter was o.k. too. Both my children were happy and o.k at the same time.

Thank you for that small sign Sawyer and A. That was my best present of all. Merry Christmas.

Dear Sawyer

Dear Sawyer,

I miss you. I miss you every second of every day. Your sister talks about you a lot. Like Mommy and Daddy, she doesn't understand what happened to you. She knows that you are up in Heaven and smiles when she talks about you. You are a part of our conversations every day. 

Christmas is in three days and we are very sad that we won't be able to hug you. It's one of the things I miss the most about you being gone. Being able to squish your newborn body with the biggest of hugs and smell your baby smell every day. I am sure you see me with your sister - I am a very hands on touchy feely loves to cuddle smothery type of Mommy. Some might call me obsessive. With your sister I pretty much cuddled her every second of every day, and still do! Our guests would politely remind me that I could have her once they leave and it was their turn! I think about us all of the time and know that you would have been my new little cuddly buddy. The love and bond that we would have shared makes me happy and sad all at once. We have a new Mommy son relationship now. I still love you just the same. Perhaps one day in a daydream I will be cuddling with you and your sister at the same time. That is what I would like for Christmas. 

This is the ornament that we received for you from our remembering together swap. We hung it on our tree while thinking of you. Your sister knew how special this was to us. She touched your ornament and paused so patiently for a picture. You are so lucky to have her for a sister! She loves you very much. She knows which ornaments are for you on the tree and it is really special to hear her speak your name.
 

  

We love you, Sawyer. Merry First Christmas in Heaven.

Love, 

Mommy, Daddy, Ava and Bosco

xo xo xo xo

A Punch In The Gut

Recently I was out for coffee with two friends. One friend asked what was new with me. I was kind of annoyed as obviously the only thing new with me is tragedy. So I answered honestly and said, "Well my baby died". The look on both their faces was pure shock. It may sound morbid to just blatantly say it, but it is true. To me, it is normal to say and it is normal to hear. After all that is the only thing new in my life. It consumes me. "Whoa, punch me in the gut why don't ya!" was her response. Then it hit me - that is how I feel every single time I think about our loss. Every reminder I feel like I have been punched in the gut.

When I see a baby
When I see a little boy
When I see baby clothes
When I see boy things
When I see or hear about a pregnancy
When I hear the word brother, baby, angel, heaven, died, death, killed
Every.Single.Time.I.Log.Onto.Facebook

It all does it. It must be grief. Damn grief punches me in the stomach all day long. How am I to leave the house? How am I to watch t.v? How can I do anything with my two year old daughter that doesn't remind me of my loss?

He died. It is not a secret. It happened. I have to become comfortable saying it, and you my friends, need to become comfortable hearing it. It is not going away. Now, 10, 30 years from now I will still have a son that died. So please, become comfortable with it. If you talk to me about it - about him, you will see that it will become o.k. for you to talk about. Talking about things is how we become comfortable with a topic. Our society isn't comfortable with the topic of death - especially the death of a baby or child. It's not natural for our littles to die and so we turn our heads to the topic because we don't know how to handle such sad conversations. Unfortunately, many families have to deal with this incredibly painful loss.  Please don't turn your back on infant and child loss. Become comfortable with expressing your thoughts and feelings in a respectful manner when you are in the company of those suffering.

That one minute of uncomfortableness for you, is a lifetime of uncomfortableness for me.

Pregnant Chicken On Stillbirth

Finally, a factual and informative post about stillbirth. Stillbirth is something I knew NOTHING about until it happened to me. The word stillbirth to me was a word associated with something terrible that happened to your baby in the 1800's. It's 2014...and it happened to me!

http://www.pregnantchicken.com/pregnant-chicken-blog/2014/4/5/scary-shit-series-stillbirth

Toddler Conversations

Tonights bedtime conversation with my two year old:

A - "Mommy, where baby Sawyer go?"

Me -"Baby Sawyer is up in heaven honey."

A - "Miss him."

Me - "You miss Sawyer, babe?"

A- "Yeah. Mommy miss?"

Me - "Yes honey, mommy misses Sawyer very much".

A - "Daddy too?"

Me - "Yes, babe. Daddy too".

A- "Mommy read book!"

She is so sweet an innocent. I love that little girl more than I could ever put into words! This is the most she has ever talked about Sawyer. It was our first real conversation about him. What a sweet heart <3 ! She has been such a doll with me. I try to hide my sadness but sometimes it is so overwhelming it just comes without warning. She brings me tissues and gives me hugs and kisses. She says, "Mommy sad" and gives me the best cuddles. I will have to work really hard to make sure my poor girl has more memories of me happy than sad.

Love her!

An Open Letter

An open letter to my friends:

Dear friends,

I am writing you this letter to let you know what I need from you. I am not brave enough to tell you in person. There are many many things that you are doing that are very hurtful. I know you aren't trying to hurt me. I know you love me. You simply just don't know how to act around me. I get it - sort of. I'd like to think that I would just know these things, but maybe I wouldn't. Perhaps you will never read these words and know my feelings, but this is what I am feeling today and I need to share. I need to write.

First, I am sorry that you have lost your friend. You have lost your friendship with me - your bubbly, happy, sarcastic and witty friend. I am the same person, but my mind works a little different now. I am still all of those things - but now I am also so much more. I am still picking up the pieces of my old self and trying merge my new self into one. Just as my life is evolving - our friendship is too.

Please be gentle with me. Please be aware with every fiber of your being of just how fragile I am.

I know on the outside I may appear together - I am not. I can smile. I can laugh. I can joke. I can act. I still need you more than ever to be there for me. I need you to check in with me and simply ask if  I am o.k. Please tell me that you are thinking about me and how you wish things were different. Tell me it's normal to feel the way that I feel and tell me how strong I am. Please tell me that this isn't my fault. Although each day is no longer quite so numb, I still need that reassurance. I need to know you are there for me. Today, and always. If you tell me many years from now that you are thinking about what we went through with Sawyer, I won't be sad. Please talk to me about him. I love him. It shows me that his life had purpose - it shows me you care.

When we are together, please don't talk about other people being pregnant. It hurts. I don't need the reminder that everyone around me gets their happy ending. I know.

If I am at your house and you have ultrasounds and birth announcements laying around - please take them down. If you have a birth announcement up of a baby named Sawyer, that is not my Sawyer - please, take it down.

Please don't mention the word 'baby', unless you are talking about mine. It's a painful reminder that my baby is not with me, and he should be.

I don't want to hear about you loaning out your baby items out to your friends because they aren't being used at your house right now. I don't need to know that you lent them out but will need them back. I don't need the reminder that you will go on to have more children like it's just nothing but an easy thing in life. You will get pregnant and feel joyful and have your child - alive. Mine died.

When you talk about the relationship between your TWO children, it hurts. It reminds me that my two children will never have that relationship.

Please don't talk to me about how difficult it is organizing life with multiple children. Your organizational nightmare is my dream life. 

Please don't talk about little boys and boy things. I may never get the chance to raise a boy - and I should have. I don't need this reminder.

Please don't talk about your 'first family picture' with the four of you. Our family of four looks like a family of three. It hurts when I see your perfect family. Please don't verbally remind me. I know you are happy for your family, and I am happy for you, but I can't share your happiness right now with you.

Please think before you speak. I am still broken. A casual conversation about life can be debilitating to me. I know we talked about these things before. I know your life is the same. But mine is different. VERY different. So please be gentle with me while I work on my new self.

Be gentle. Be considerate. Be very aware of the words coming out of your mouth.

Lastly, please don't be me mad at me if you are reading this. If you are thinking 'oh my god, that one was me!', it's o.k. I forgive you - you just simply don't get it, and I get that. I know that you love me and that you are not intentionally trying to hurt me.

Love,

T

What I Need

My friends - I need you. My family - I need you. I need you more than ever. Please come back. Please don't forget about me. Please don't forget about Sawyer.

It has been 11 weeks since we lost Sawyer. 11 weeks of unbearable pain, heartache and sadness. 11 weeks of a crushed future.

At this time, I have never felt so alone. In the beginning I pushed everyone away. I couldn't bear the thought of seeing anyone. The grief was so raw, it consumed me. I was sad, embarrassed, destroyed. I was lost and I did not want anyone to find me. 

Please find me. I am ready, and now your gone. The rawness has eased and I am able to carry on a conversation without breaking down - but everyone has disappeared. The calls have stopped, the cards have stopped, the text messages have stopped.

It has only been 11 weeks since our lives were forever changed. 11 weeks after 30 whole years of happiness. Surly you understand that I am not better after only 11 weeks.

I am incredibly saddened by the friend and family freeze. Where did you all go? I know before all of this life was busy and we were all consumed with our children, but can you please stop and think of us every now and again and let me know by some form of communication? I know this probably sounds selfish - but is what I need. A week to you may fly by, but to me it feels like a month. Every day I wake, wishing it were bedtime. Please check on me. I know it sounds childish, but again, it's what I need.

Not hearing from you makes me feel even more isolated than I already feel after losing Sawyer.

Please find me. It's what I need.

The Move

Aside from the loss of Sawyer, our family is going through another trying time. We are homeless! We have been living with my in-laws for some time now. You can imagine how hard it is to grieve such a loss while not in the comfort of your own home.

We sold our house at the end of June and have been unable to find a house to purchase that we like. We thought for sure the 60 day close would be enough time. We were wrong! We moved because we were in a townhouse and we wanted more space for our TWO children to play. My husbands wonderful parents welcomed us into their home, with the assumption by all parties that we would be here for a few weeks. We had planned to purchase and move in slowly after Sawyer arrived. Their help with a baby and a toddler would be wonderful, we would paint and do some improvements before we moved in. We felt lucky that we wouldn't be rushed. Now we are still here, but with no baby and no move out date.

We know we are being picky, but the house has to be just right. I moved more than a dozen times as a child and I want one home to raise my family in. A home that feels right, and that we love. We didn't realize it would be so hard to find. We came from a brand new townhouse, one where we built and choose all of our upgrades. Now that we are looking for a single detached house, we can't have all of the upgrades and a great location because simply, we aren't millionaires. We are also looking to buy in one of two desirable towns. We could purchase a home where our townhouse was, but we don't want to be so far away from friends and family. Our home search is even more difficult now, as we will be moving in with the 3 of us, and not 4. Our home especially has to feel right now. I hope Sawyer gives us some sort of sign when the right one comes up.

Moving is also my biggest regret. I will forever feel that Sawyer died because we moved. I know babies don't die because people move, but I need an answer, and to me at this moment that sounds logical. Anyone who has moved knows that moving is stressful. I can't help but blame the move on Sawyer's passing. Everything has fallen out of place because of our move. We don't have a home, and most importantly, we have lost our son, our daughters little brother. I was so selfish to want a bigger home. I feel like I sacrificed my baby's life for my happiness - a new home. Except I don't have a home. And I am not happy. If I had a new home, I still would not be happy. I would be happy living in a cardboard box with the four of us. I truly would. My baby died, and it's my fault. How do you live with yourself after that? Truthfully, I am surprised the guilt has not killed me. Why did we choose to move while I was pregnant? Pregnancy is such a special experience, and I took it for granted the second time around. I toted him around in my belly while I chased my two year old and packed boxes all summer. I should have slowed down. I should have listened and watched for signs. I naively assumed that he would arrive happy and healthy just like my daughter. Each doctors appointment he was measuring to size and he had a healthy heartbeat. I felt him move around in my belly often, I talked to him each time he jabbed my ribs and pushed on my belly. But, I didn't count his kicks, and I should have. Maybe I would have noticed that he was slowing down. I will never know, and I have to live with that.

My midwife and high risk obstetrician have assured me that his passing had nothing to do with my stress, but I need an answer and to me that seems possible. We moved, and so our baby died. I know that many people move while pregnant and their babies live, but still, I blame the move. Another part of me feels that perhaps moving was a blessing in disguise. Maybe Sawyer would have passed anyway and somehow god (or whomever I believe in) new that we would need to be surrounded by our family in one home. I am not sure what I believe anymore. I just know that Sawyer is not here, and he should be. We don't have a home for our family, and we should.

We were moved and settled in here 4 weeks before Sawyer died and arrived. My in-laws were in Italy for the first two weeks which gave us time to settle ourselves in. Sawyer came just over a week after they returned home. I am so thankful they were home and with us. The week before Sawyer passed was so relaxing. I had finished work (I worked for 4 days after having the summer off), the move was done, and now I had time to relax with my sweet baby and daughter before his arrival. But, he came too soon and the circumstances were horrific.

A positive - my in laws are fantastic! If I had to be anywhere other than my own home, it would be here. They are so incredibly generous to let us stay here with our wild toddler, and our equally wild boxer dog. They have a beautiful large home with a beautiful property that is so comforting and relaxing. We have our own space and our daughter absolutely loves it here. I don't know who will be more sad when we move out, our daughter or my father in law. My daughter and him have quite the relationship. It's beautiful to see each day. Although they are fantastic, it is hard knowing that we have completely intruded their space. Their once happy and clean home is now stained with the sadness of death. Our big crazy dog is a lot to clean up after - he is drooly and sheddy and gross, but we love him dearly. Our toddler has stuff everywhere. Clothes, toys, art supplies - you name it. Each level of their home is burdened with our family's mess. The literal mess and the sadness mess. It must be difficult to share your home with someone grieving such a loss. I will forever be thankful to them.

Although I am obviously so so sad that Sawyer will not be joining our family physically in our move, I look forward to the day where we finally find a house that feels like a home. I look forward to creating memories in our new home with our daughter, and including memories of Sawyer throughout our home - reminders that he did exist and that we love him dearly.

Fa La La La La

I am a little Christmas OBSESSED. I always have been. I was worried that this year would be terribly sad as our Christmas would not be as I envisioned for our family. Surprisingly, I am beginning to get excited for the holiday season! Instead of having the holidays bring me down, I am choosing them to lift me up and get me through the sadness that is now our life. What better therapy than Christmas music, baking, crafts, snow, buying for others, and toddler smiles? I think I will always feel a little pull on my heart knowing that Sawyer will never spend my favourite holiday with our family here on earth; but, I know that he is with us and that he will be enjoying his first Christmas in heaven. If we get so much excitement out of the holidays here on earth, can you imagine the Christmas celebrations they must have in heaven? These are the thoughts that I have to have and believe for our Sawyer. It brings me peace thinking that heaven is real and that Sawyer is always around us. I need to be the best mommy to our daughter so that Sawyer can look down on us and see that his family is strong, and most importantly, loving. We love each other with everything we have and we will continue to do so until the day we are all together.

Sawyer is not here on earth. He never will be. All we have is beautiful memories and pictures of our very handsome and incredibly adorable baby boy. The only choice we have is to incorporate him into our lives in the best way that we can through holidays and every day life. I suppose you could say that this is one of the only things a bereaved parent can look forward to. With the holidays approaching, I have been thinking of how we will make Sawyer a part of our family traditions.

Recently, I came across a holiday ornament swap called the 'Remembering Together Swap' . Each year you are given a family who has lost a baby - they provide you with the name , date, etc. You make an ornament for their child who has passed and send it to them. In return, someone will make one for us. For Sawyer. I thought this would be nice to do with A each year. Something for her to look forward to in memory of her brother. I have signed up, so we will see how it goes. I also want to do something in Sawyer's name as well. I'd like to do something good with this tragedy. Maybe we will donate something to the hospital, or purchase toys for a family in need. I would also like to have a stocking for Sawyer. Though he isn't with us here on earth, he is still very much a part of our family. I am not sure what to put in it though. What does Santa bring for a child who is not with us? Something to teach our daugther about giving back...but I am not sure what yet!

I sure wish you were here, Sawyer. The holidays will not be the same without you. As you watch over us this holiday season, please know this: Every song we sing with your sister, every silly dance move we make, every family activity we do and book we read, every cuddle, every hug, and every kiss we give, we are doing it with you, for you, because of you. We LOVE you Sawyer, xo. 

Just The Three Of You?

Last night I did something brave. To most, this is a regular thing, but to me, it was brave and a pretty big deal. I went out for dinner...at a local restaurant. You have to understand the mind of a bereaved parent before you judge. Going out in public places is a really big deal. For those first few tender weeks I couldn't stomach going anywhere. My nerves and anxiety were through the roof. The thought of seeing the public was terrifying - even if they were strangers. The few times that we did go out during the few weeks following, I would insist that it was a few towns away. I felt like every single person knew everything about me. Like I was wearing a sign that said ' my baby died inside me'. Part of me wanted to wear a sign that said that, noting the reason for my disheveled looks and awkward personality. Like it was some sort of guarantee that no one would talk to me. I do still have these feelings in the public, but not as severe as the first few weeks.

Anyway, last night I was feeling brave and we decided to go out for dinner. We had a pretty good day and we were on our way back from a holiday event at a local garden center. As soon as we walked in I was reminded of our sadness. 'Just the three of you?', the hostess asked. I felt like saying, 'No, there are for of us, but only three of us will be dining physically tonight'. Ugh. Our family of four is only seen as a family of three. A loved one recently reminded me of this too, when I commented on a house being too small for us (while searching for a new home). "It's only the three of you". Oh, thanks. I know. Thanks for reminding me.

Sawyer, we will never think of us as a family of three. We are a family of four. One day, maybe we will be a family of five, or more. You will always be a part of our family.

xo

Check Up

This afternoon I had my 8 week check up with the OB that was with us when Sawyer was born. This is potentially the OB we will use in the future if we decide to have another as she is a high risk OB. I have been anticipating this day for many weeks. Though Sawyer cannot be brought back to us, we were hoping for something positive - answers. Why in the world did this happen to us? Two healthy people, with healthy families.

During my pregnancy with Sawyer, we had a midwife. I was quickly reminded why I went with a midwife when we visited the OB's office today. It was a very similar atmosphere to the OB we used for our daughter. LONG waits. LOTS of people. As soon as I walked through the doors, I noticed a very pregnant, very young, and very unhealthy looking mom to be waiting with her own mom. Her bedazzled shirt said, "Mom in Training". I thought to myself, "She will have a healthy baby". Now please don't think I would wish a harm like stillbirth this on another mother. I would never. But, I have to say it is frustrating knowing that I am ready for another baby, and healthier than this young lady ( I presume), and my baby died!

Our appointment was for 3:00 and we weren't seen until 4:10. During this time in the waiting room, I watched a mother walk in with her husband. I overheard him tell the receptionist that this morning her contractions were 3 mins apart. They were asked to have a seat. I was thinking "NO! Three minutes apart! Go to the hospital before your baby dies!" I suppose that was the Stillbirth mom in me talking. I envied her big round belly. Her exhaustion. I would give anything to have that back.

When we were finally called into a room, the nurse met with us. She did my weight and told us that the Dr. had a few results back from the hospital. She then asked if we had any questions for the doctor. Ummm, yeah. A few. A few hundred! We waited. Again. This by far was the worst part. I was taken right back to that day in the hospital. I felt sick and wished our wait could be over. The walls were so thin. I could hear the doctor in with the patient beside us. It was the young girl from the waiting room. And then I heard it, loud and clear for what felt like an eternity. Her babies heartbeat.  My eyes instantly welled, my throat swelled, and in an instant, I was a blubbery mess. I curled into my husbands arms while covering my ears, wishing for the sound to stop. That beautiful sound that I was hoping to hear that awful morning at the hospital.

When we finally saw the doctor, we were able to ask all of our questions. Unfortunately, the results she had from the hospital were the same results that our midwife went over with us. Everything was normal on him and I. Finally, almost two and a half hours later, we left. Once again, we are overcome with the wonder of why.

A Good Day

Yesterday was the first day that I felt something other than sadness. I had many moments of happiness and joy! It felt good to smile and actually mean it. Sure, there is sadness still but I think I am beginning to see the light. I have been trying to be more positive lately, mainly for my daughter. I don't want her growing up in a home of pure sadness. I need to be the same happy mom that I was to her just 7 short weeks ago.

It was just a regular day at home. Maybe it was the excitement of Halloween the night before, or the happiness of our daughter after her sugar rush. Maybe it was because it was November 1st and part of me wanted out of the sadness of October. Something inside me felt lighter and I became happy for our future. I actually became excited for the holidays. I was glued to the ipad and was inspired through pinterest. I became excited for baking, crafts and holiday diy. I thought of all of the fun things that we would do with our daughter and how excited she would be. As I was pinning away, it started to SNOW! Huge, fluffy flakes floated from the sky to the ground. I excitedly screeched and rushed my daughter outside. There were were, standing out front in our pj's watching the pure white flakes fall and hit our warm skin. This is when I felt happy. Peaceful. There is something about nature that makes me feel so connected to Sawyer.  

                                                   

I hope I experience more of these magical moments with my kids. Where I can connect with them both at the same time. My daughter in my arms, and Sawyer in my heart <3 .

Your Worst Nightmare

You know when you have one of those horrible dreams? The ones where you wake up in a state of panic with your face wrinkled, body clenched and your stomach in knots? The kind where the dream is so real that you are sure it has happened? I have these dreams every night. The kicker is that I don't have that moment where I think, 'Thank GOD this is just a dream'. It is real. Very real. Your worst nightmare, is my reality. I will never awake from this dream.

Since the early days of losing Sawyer, sleep has been one of those things that I wish so badly I could have. A good sleep. My family gave (and continues) me all the time I needed to rest. I would sleep in every morning and nap when I needed. But, I mostly just lay in bed and think. Sleep is hard work for me lately. I can't seem to get my brain to shut down. I feel like my mind is having a million conversations in a million different languages. All I think about is the loss of Sawyer. When I am awake, when I am sleeping.  I do have moments where there are happy thoughts, but most are sad. I still feel so guilty, and that is what keeps me up at night. I try to divert my thoughts to the happy times with him in my belly, and it makes me smile when I think of ways that our family will remember him. Pictures and sayings that will eventually be a part of our home. Ways our daughter will remember him by. I really like the picture posted here. It is myself walking very pregnant with Sawyer in my belly and my daughter walking along beside us. It makes me smile, and I think it is a nice picture for my daughter to have in her room to remind her that she is a big sister.

I plan on framing this for her and putting a caption saying something like 'beside me always'. I hope she likes it. These are the memories that I have to cherish and talk about. This picture was taken the day before Sawyer passed away. We were at the local fair. We had such a great time there, the four of us. We walked through the buildings and looked at the animals. Our daughter loved the bunnies! She rode a pony and played a fish game. We shared an elephant ear and lots of smiles! I now refer to this day as our last fully and completely happy day as a family. We didn't know the sadness of losing a child and we were so very innocent. I loved this day, and my 30 years before this happened. I can only hope I can truly come to peace with this and live yet again, happy.

Maybe tonight I will dream of a day where we are all together again, and I will awake with a smile:)

My Fortune

Last night we had Chinese food. This was my fortune:

A recent misfortune is just the beginning of your lucky streak. 

13    23    29    30    39   47 

Lord, I hope it's right!

Dear Sawyer

This post will be about you and your sister. I can't write it now, but soon! I am not strong enough today:)

Sawyer's Announcement

Sawyer Daniel Last Name - Sept. 17th, 2014

At the request of Giancarlo and Trish Last Name, it is with a heavy heart that I must share the news of the sudden passing of their precious baby son - Sawyer. Surrounded by the warmth of his mother's love, and comforted by the sound of her loving heart, he passed away during the early morning hours on Tuesday in his 36th gestational week. Delivered into this world a perfect angel on September 17th, to be held and loved in the arms of his Mommy and Daddy for a whisper of a moment, but eternally in our hearts and dreams. Forever and always he will be loved and missed by his big sister Ava, his puppy Bosco, his Grandma, his Nonna & Nonno, his Papa & Nanny, his great grandparents, his many Aunts, Uncles and cousins, and most of all by his Mommy & Daddy. Cremation will take place, and a private family gathering to celebrate Sawyer's precious love will be arranged for a later date. In honour of his tiny life, hugs and kisses can be given to those you love, and acts of kindness shared with family, friends and neighbours.

Re-Evaluating What A Real Problem Is

Ok, this is more of a vent. I am five and a half weeks into this journey, and I am finding myself overwhelmed with anger. Specifically, toward other people and their 'problems'. I was told by my doctors about the stages of grief and how I would probably feel angry towards other mothers and babies. I am not angry towards those having healthy babies, or becoming pregnant. Sure, at times I feel it is unfair and that upsets me, but other peoples happiness is not what makes me angry. The anger I am talking about is a deeper anger toward others and their view of what makes them angry. Am I making any sense? I am angry with those who complain over petty problems. Just STOP IT!

I want to scream: You want to know a real problem?

Finding out your babies heart stopped beating in the home stretch of your pregnancy.

Preparing yourself to give birth to death.

Saying goodbye to your child, mere hours after you met.

Having to explain to your 2 year old why her baby brother isn't coming home.

Having your milk come in with no baby to feed.

Crying so hard that your eyes are nearly swollen shut, then realizing your emotions have made your boobs leak.

These problems are real. They cannot ever be fixed. EVER. Nothing in the whole world can bring back my baby. So when you tell me you are pissed because of the way your sons hockey league is organized, I DON'T CARE (voice your opinion to the league). If you are arguing with your boyfriend because he cancelled your plans, I DON'T CARE (you can make plans for any other day). If you are upset because it's 5am, you've been up with the baby all night, your four year old is up because he has had a bad dream and your toddler is in the kitchen eating a dozen cookies, you guessed it, I DON'T CARE (you are blessed with 3 beautiful children, get up and enjoy them!). I hate being so angry, but it is how I feel at this time.

I am also angry towards those in my past who have drained my energy over and over by supporting them thorough their minor life bumps. I keep thinking of certain people and how I have supported them through what at the time to them seemed like the end of the world. In reality their problems were small. They didn't involve death or sickness. I think back on these times, and feel angry. I am angry with myself too as I used to be one of these people who thought the world was ending over every small issue. Loss really puts things in perspective. Now that I have lost my sweet baby, my son, I can only now see the beauty in embracing every moment with your loved ones. Once it's over, it's really over. Forever. I am so saddened that for me and my son, it is too late. I wish I had some time to prepare for this tragedy. My husband and I would have taken Sawyer to all of the places that a little boy should visit with his family. We would have talked to him about life and our love for him and embraced every movement and tummy kick. Oh how I wish I could have those precious 36 weeks back with him. If you are reading this and you have children, PLEASE see this as a reminder that life is short. Don't get hung up on the small things that are really not important. Enjoy every moment with your loved ones because in the end, the moments and memories are all that matter.

My Life Sentence

They day we found out that our sweet baby died, a part of me died too. I can remember laying in the hospital bed and thinking that life will never be the same. Ever. I will forever be sad and nothing in life will bring me complete joy. How can I continue on knowing that I will always be sad? I really hope that this thought is temporary.

I feel like I have been robbed of life. I am 30, and I was only given 30 years to live a happy life. I now have to continue the remainder of my life with an overwhelming feeling of emptiness and a constant reminder of my sadness. My life sentence. I had a pretty great life before all of this happened. I was in control. I controlled how I wanted my life to be, and it worked! I worked hard on my education to become a teacher. I worked hard on my relationship to marry my husband. I planned my daughters birth perfectly, 2 years after we were married. I planned my second to be born just after my daughter turned 2. I was robbed of my plan, my control. I now will not have my sweet baby 2 years after our first. I lost the control to make my daughter a big sister (the kind of big sister that can physically connect with her sibling).

My daughter is what has been keeping me going through these past few weeks (along with my wonderful husband). The love that we share is so powerful, but I can't help but feel like I have been robbed of being a wonderful mother too. Now, when I look at my daughter, I don't only see joy, but rather sadness. Sadness that I will not get to connect with Sawyer in the same way. Sadness about all of the cute things she does, because I can only wonder if he would do them too. Our daughter is so incredibly awesome. She is such a kind, loving and funny girl! Why was I robbed of the chance to raise another awesome little human? I would (and my husband too!) have raised Sawyer to be so kind and loving. The kind of boy that does good in the world. I am so saddened that I won't get that chance. I can only hope that in the future I can look at my daughter with pure joy again.

I think what scares me the most is that I will lose myself. I will lose control of the person I was before this happened. I hope that I can muster the strength to move forward, without moving away from the person that I was before.

Life isn't fair. Bad things happen to good people, and I unfortunately am one of them. Before all of this, I believed in karma. If karma existed, I would be given the chance to have control over my life. I realize that one cannot control every aspect of their life, but family you should be able to control...especially when you are so close to having your dreams come true. I will continue to do good to others, but as far as karma goes, I am no longer a believer.

The Blame Game

I really hope that one day, I will have some peace with what happened. Right now, my mind is such a mess. I can't stop thinking about what went wrong. How does a textbook pregnancy turn into such a nightmare just like that? I have been racking my brain trying to remember the days and weeks leading up to his passing. Did he have decreased movements and I didn't notice? Did I sleep on my back that night and cut off his oxygen? I started taking extra vitamins to boost my immune for delivery 2 weeks before this happened, maybe that is why? Maybe I was too stressed? We moved and I began a new job, was that too much for me to handle while pregnant? I really feel that this is somehow my fault. I did this to my baby. I am the only one that could have! His home was my belly, and somehow I failed him. I am not sure how I will ever move passed the guilt. I have been told by many doctors that this isn't my fault. Somethings things like this happen to good people. The worst part is the not knowing. I wish I had a reason. We won't have the full pm results back for six months, but our midwife and the ob's from the hospital suspect they will come back as 'no known cause'. There IS a cause. Babies just don't die, as adults just don't die. Something happened, we just don't know what. I feel that I will blame myself, unless something conclusive can tell me otherwise. My sweet Sawyer, please know that mommy did not mean to do this to you. I want nothing more than to hold you in my arms and bring you home to your family where you belong.

October 15th - Infant Loss Remembrance Day

Today, October 15th, is Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Until recently, I was unaware of this day. A day to remember our children taken far to soon. I probably saw the posts floating around the internet world last year about this day and thought something like, 'oh, how sad for those people', and continued on without another thought. Boy how a year can change things. I am now a part of this awful group of women that none of us want to be a part of. So tonight, for our little Sawyer, we light a candle and know that he will remain a light inside each of our hearts forever.

We love you Sawyer, and not a day will go by where we don't think about you.

Dear Sawyer

Mommy misses you more than words can say. Yesterday was your due date. Monday, October 13th, 2014...Thanksgiving day. I really wish you were here with us. We tried to make the best of what the weekend was, but we are really missing having you here with us. We thought we would be thankful for different reasons this year, but we are still thankful. I am thankful for the love we shared for 36 weeks and 1 day. I am thankful for the lifetime of love that I will dedicate to you. I am thankful that one day, I will be with you.

Love, Mommy xo

The Morning Life Stopped

Tuesday, September 16th, 2014. A morning I will never forget. This is the morning that I realized my sweet baby was no longer moving. I didn't want to believe it, but I knew in my heart it was real.

I woke up in the morning to my daughter hopping into bed with us as usual. My husband went and got her a bottle and we had our morning snuggle. I got up to go to the bathroom and when I got back into bed, it hit me that I hadn't felt the baby move yet. He is usually very active. I didn't think much of it. I told my self that he was probably sleepy like his mama. I was still quite tired so my husband offered to take my daughter down and feed her breakfast. Ahhh, a sleep in! I lazed around in bed and dozed off for a short while. When I got up, I told my husband about the baby's movement and he too thought it was nothing. We are 36 weeks, there is no way something could go wrong! After eating breakfast, drinking a glass of oj and eating a piece of dark chocolate, I knew. He was so still. I poked and poked and could only feel something so still. We got in the car and headed to the hospital where are worst fears were confirmed. 

I will never forget those moments in that room. The nurse hooked up the monitor and placed it on my belly, then re-placed it, and re-placed it. I knew. She then found a heartbeat (my own), and was very hopeful. I will never forget the look on my husbands face. He was so hopeful and all I could say was 'honey, he's gone, he's gone'! The tech brought in the ultrasound machine for further confirmation. That was by far the absolute worst moment. I have the image of my sweet baby boy laying so still in my belly, scarred into my mind. What once was a beautiful image of a healthy heart beat, and tiny limbs swimming, was now still. Devastation, heart break, sadness, there are really no words. Not one I can think of that describes the feeling of that moment. 

I was so strong in that moment. You could probably chalk my strength up to shock. My husband on the other hand was a mess. I have never seen a man cry quite the same. My heart was breaking into a million little pieces. For my baby, my husband, my daughter, our future. Life has stopped, and it will never ever be the same.

My midwife arrived at the hospital and I was taken into a labour and delivery room. This moment was supposed to be so different. So so different. I remember so vividly the birth of our daughter and I longed for that excitement. I kept telling myself that we still get to meet our son, but just very differently than how we met our daughter. We were asked how we wanted to proceed with labour. Did we want to go home and let it happen naturally? Or stay and be induced? I knew in my heart that  I could not leave the hospital knowing that my sweet baby was in my tummy, still. I wanted so badly to have a c-section, but knew it wasn't in my best interest. The thought of having the strength and energy to push him out knowing the end result made me sick to my stomach. How on earth would I be able to do that? I am not strong enough for this! My loving husband had so much faith in me. We will do this together, he said. Together? I thought about that for a moment. Although we wouldn't be doing the physical part of it together, the emotional part of it will be the very same. Though a different connection (nothing ever can compare to a mother's connection with her child in the womb), he was just as much in love with this baby as I was. We WILL do this together. 

The thoughts, emotions and physical heartache of this experience are simply hard to put into words. My husband, my baby, and myself spent many moments in that L&D room together privately, embracing what moments we had left with each other. From the moment of induction we were faced with so many decisions. Decisions that I wasn't ready to face. Funeral arrangements - I am not supposed to be planning my son's funeral. I am supposed to be planning his future! Do you want to hold the baby? - Of course I want to hold my baby! How much time would you like to spend with your baby? - Ummm, how about forever. Is that an option? 

I don't have any recollection of the timing between things. I think I was induced around 11am. The waiting was a process that I wouldn't wish on anyone. It was a weird feeling. I really wanted him out. It was like I was waiting an wishing upon the worst moment of my life. At this point I was still in shock and I hadn't cried a real tear. There were a few things I knew: I knew that the worst was yet to come. I am hooked up to this IV that is going to cause me great physical pain (along with delivery) and I also have to endure the most unfortunate and intense emotional pain that I have ever experienced. I knew that he would be so cute and perfect. I knew that I would fall in love with him all over again. I knew my husband would do the same. Most of all, I knew that in the end we would have to say goodbye.

Sometime in the middle of the night, my midwife broke my waters. Right before, it hit me. This is real, this is happening. I finally broke down. I thought back to the birth of our daughter. I thought it was hilarious when my waters broke. I wasn't prepared for how much fluid actually came out. With her we were waiting for my labour to pick up at my mother and father in laws. I soaked through all of my hospital clothes and we had to do a load of laundry before heading to the hospital. I swear each time it happened I could fill a liter jug, and it happened about 5 times! This time, it wasn't funny. My son was delivered at 7:37 am on Wednesday, September 17th. He was perfect. 6lbs 8oz and 20 and a  half inches of cuteness. He looked just like my husband.

The next few hours we spent together. We tried to smile, but mostly cried. He was so perfect. We were so close to bringing him home. Just 6 more days and he would have been full term. The hospital staff was fantastic. The doctors and nurses were incredible to us. My midwife stayed with me the entire time and she was wonderful! It was hard to feel thankful, but we certainly were. There is a volunteer organization called Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, who takes pictures of families in unfortunate situations like ours. Our photographer came in and she was wonderful too. As wonderful as you can be in these kind of moments. Though not the newborn photo's I had envisioned, I am so grateful that we have beautiful pictures of our perfect angel to cherish forever. I remember seeing something about this company on facebook after my daughter was born. I remember clicking on the link, seeing photo's of a baby that was still, and bawling. I went to my husband and told him what I had seen and I remember giving our daughter a big hug. Little did I know, two short years later I would be using that company and grateful for them. I have definitely learned that nothing in life is forever, and the unexpected can actually happen to you. Yes, YOU. It is not just something you see in movies or hear about through friends of friends of friends. Embrace each second and be thankful for the life you have, because life could stop at any moment.