ICAN Meeting

Even before we scheduled our c-section with Danielle, I had gone to the ICAN (International Cesarean Awareness Network) website. I wanted to be informed about how I could have a c-section and make my chances of having a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) the best they could be. I used information found at their website and other places I researched to write a birth plan and talk to my doctors. I knew they had meetings, but never even thought about going to one, until yesterday.

My doula that I had with Nora, Ashley, had posted on Facebook to see if anyone wanted to go to next month's meeting. It turned out to fall on Adam's birthday, so another friend of mine (who has also had a c-section and VBAC, and is expecting again in December, similar to us) and I decided to go to this month's meeting last night. While I fully support the efforts of ICAN in making mothers more aware of their choices in birth, and letting them know that a VBAC is, in most cases, an option, I, myself, will not be going to another meeting. I want you to know while reading this that I understand that going though a c-section can be a traumatic event, and some women do suffer from postpartum depression (and some, who go through traumatic births, apparently suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder). These are often chemical imbalances in your body, and you aren't really able to control them.

At the beginning of the meeting we went around and did brief introductions (Hi, I'm Sarah. My first was a c-section, my second was a VBAC, and I'm pregnant with number three, who will likely be another c-section.) Most of the women said something such as, "mine was your typical reasons for a c-section... not progressing in labor properly." I didn't even mention that mine was scheduled, mine was because my daughter had a severe heart defect, mine was much different from all of your stories.

While, everyone (sans me) was sharing different parts of their birth, their feelings during and after their c-section, what they wished the medical staff would have done, and such, I stayed quite. I don't usually mind talking about Danielle and her story, but I didn't feel comfortable doing it here. Just about every woman in the room said that the worst thing people had said to them in reaction to their traumatic birth was, "at least you and the baby are healthy," and every woman said how much she hated it when people said that, and how much it hurt them in different ways. The first time one of them said it I thought about chiming in, but soon they were all saying it or agreeing with the statement. That is the point at which I shut myself off at the meeting. I couldn't handle not saying, "Well, yeah, they're right." There were a few points where I felt as though I needed to get up and walk out (not leave, because I still needed to give my friend a ride home!), but I stayed, and in hopes of getting something out of the meeting.

After that, I listened to them share how they had problems bonding with their baby for months and months, breastfeeding issues (or successes and how it was healing), and other things. One women shared how she had preeclampsia and her baby was in the NICU. She said that she didn't get to hold her baby until hours later when they wheeled her recovery bed over to see her baby. I was at least able to tell her that she's lucky she got to hold her baby the day he/she was born, as they wouldn't let me hold my daughter while I was still on the bed, and I wasn't really able to get up until the next day. What I didn't say is how in the few hours that I held her or was with her, I didn't get much of a chance to bond with her. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her that I loved her so much my own heart could burst. But I never got to build that nursing relationship, since I only nursed her once for a few moments (even though the doctors didn't want me to, the nurse let me).

I really didn't get anything out of the meeting, and I would never go back, but it was a funny coincidence that three and a half years after our wedding, I ran into our wedding photographer, Danica, (who was there, I'm assuming to drum up business, as she doesn't have any children), at this meeting. Worth it? Maybe, maybe not. But making it through the meeting was an experience, and one I will choose to not have again.

Someone's Missing

When filling out paper work, it's sometimes difficult...

     How many people live in your household? _____
     How many children do you have? _____
     What is your marital status? single, married, divorced, widowed

While the answers are 3, 2, and married, respectively, the numbers just don't add up. How can you have a mom, dad, and 2 children living in a household, but have it only add up to 3? I often wonder if they think I (a math teacher) can't add, or I don't understand the questions, or maybe they just think it's a typo. I doubt that they ever stop and realize that someone's missing.

Adam and I were talking about planning Nora's first birthday party (rainbow themed, of course!), and he asked me, "What day should we have Danni's party?" I was confused for a minute, then asked if he meant Nora's. He did. And when I started talking about plans, I realized that in my mind, we had a 1-year-old running around, along with a 2 1/2-year-old. And all of a sudden it was like in cartoons when the thought bubble "poofs" away into thin air. We will only have one child at this party, only one little pair of legs to chase after. The feeling after came back to me. The one after Danni died, being home, but missing someone. That emptiness. It was almost like having empty arms again, but this time, it wasn't my arms, it was our home, one crib, one high chair, one baby to feed, change, chase around, hear giggle.

Baby Reese

My sister-in-law & her husband just had their second baby girl, Theresa. While they were in the hospital delivering baby Reese, we watched their older daughter, Addy, overnight. (I've posted about Addy before.) While Addy was here, she found the "Danni Book," as she calls it. And while I was nursing Nora, she sat down next to me and pointed out Baby Danni, Uncle Adam, Auntie Sarah, Auntie Neese, and Uncle Jon, and "read" the book to me, telling me how Baby Danni was crying and what-not.

Baby Reese was born overnight, and the next day her mom and dad had posted a photo of her on Facebook. We pulled it up and showed Addy. We told her it was her little sister, and that her name was Reese. Then a couple minutes later we asked her who the baby was in the picture. She said Danni Jo. When we took her to the hospital to meet and and see her mom and dad again, her dad introduced her to her baby sister, Reese. While I was holding Baby Reese, both Addy and Nora were hanging out by me, so I was asking Addy about her sister again. I asked her what her name was, and she again told me Baby Danni.

I love that she remembers Baby Danni (we just had her birthday part over the weekend, so I'm sure she's fresh in her mind), but I sure hope she figures out that her baby sister is Reese!

Big Sister Moments

We are watching my niece, Addy, tonight. We took her to church with us, and she was sitting in her car seat next to Nora in her car set. Since Addy is forward-facing, and Nora is rear-facing, they can see each other quite easily. Addy was smiling at Nora, and Nora smiled back, and Addy started giggling and told us that Nora likes her. Which got me thinking about the interactions that Danielle and Eleanor would have...

I often wonder what interactions Danielle and Eleanor would have had, how much Danni would smile & giggle with her little sister. Would she share her toys with Nora, or would she take toys away from her (like I did to my brother!)? Would she clamor for attention while I was trying to feed her sister? When Nora was a little older, would they sit together, tell silly stories, and giggle & laugh? Would she give her little sister kisses? Would she try to comfort her when she cried?

I guess I will never know...

Beautiful Eyes

We were at church on Saturday, and Adam was trying to get Nora packed up in her car seat, when the older couple in front of us turned around and commented on our daughter. They said she had beautiful eyes. I really wanted to say, "Just like her big sister," but didn't. I don't think they wanted to get into much of a conversation or know our story, but I wanted to tell it. When I turned around, another little old lady came over and made a comment about Nora as well. Of course, again, I wanted to say something about Danielle, but didn't. She said she'd been seeing us in church since we got pregnant with her and just wanted to come over and say hi.

On our way home I was talking to Adam about how, if we had stayed at Holy Trinity, the little old ladies and the people that sat around us would probably know our story. They saw me pregnant with Danielle, they may or may not have seen the funeral announcement in the bulletin and figured out it was our daughter, they would have seen us show up for mass week after week without a baby. Some would have asked, some wouldn't have. Then they would have seen me pregnant again, and us showing up with a baby. The people at St. Pat's don't know (sans the one couple that mom, Jeff, and I talked to at Sunday donuts when we first joined). I guess I just figured that everyone that would be in our lives for the rest of our lives would know about Danielle, but as we start meeting new people and going new places, they don't. I'm not sure how I feel about that yet.

Looks Like a Rainbow: Danni & Nora

When I was pregnant with Nora, I was concerned about what she would look like. When Danni was born, I thought she was the most beautiful baby girl. Well, now that I was pregnant with another girl, how could she be more beautiful? I guess she'd have to look like her sister. But if she looked like her sister, would I want to cry every time I looked at her? I certainly didn't want that!

When Nora was born, she always seemed to have a "mad face," but once she outgrew that I found that she was beautiful too. She looked a lot like her big sister, but not so much that she looked like she was her big sister; just enough to be called sisters.

Several times, when I am getting Nora dressed or I'm changing her or giving her a bath, I see a red line down the middle of her chest. I'm not sure what causes it, as there's nothing in her clothes that would make the line. It doesn't look like it's irritating her skin or anything. It just looks like a mark, or an old scar. Whenever I see it on her, I think immediately of Danni. If she were here with us, she would have a scar right there on her chest from her heart surgeries. I always smile a sad smile and think of my little 2-day-old baby and what she would be doing right now...

...taking a bath with her little sister, would she be splashing her and would Nora get mad, or maybe she'd splash her right back and they two of them would giggle and laugh...

...would she want to help change the baby's diaper or want to help get her dressed, or maybe she'd be upset that I wasn't paying attention to her at that moment...

...would she run up to her daddy when he gets home from school and cling to his leg, or maybe give him big kisses and hugs, or ask him to read her a book, or maybe she'd be like Nora and after being crabby all day, light up with smiles when he gets home...

All these things I guess we'll never know...

Josephine's Funeral & Danni's Song

One of the couples that we met at Faith's Lodge lost their first baby, James, because of preterm labor at 23 weeks gestation. They had struggled with infertility, but finally conceived him only to loose him. I found out about a two and a half weeks ago that they were 23 weeks pregnant, and was overjoyed for them! They'd lost James about 11 months ago, and were now expecting their Rainbow Baby. Only to find out a week and a half later that Josephine was born, lived a short three and a half days, then went to be with her big brother, and Danielle (and Ashton, David, Drew, & Sprout... the other babies that we met through their parents at Faith's Lodge).

I knew I had to go out and be there for both of them at her funeral, as soon as I found out. I got in touch with the other parents and we got them a rock to put in James's memorial garden for Josie. On Thursday, I made the drive out to Madison with Nora and stayed with one of my friend's from college. (I debated on whether or not to bring Nora, as I understood it would be hard on my friends, but logistically we couldn't make it work - Adam works at 3am, and it would be difficult to find someone to watch her, plus I am breastfeeding her.)

I left our house Thursday around noon, loaded Nora and our stuff in the car and said goodbye to Adam. I got in the car and started it, and the radio turned on. It was about halfway though the song, but I knew Danni was looking down on us as I listened to the rest of If I Die Young by The Band Perry. (Just a couple of weeks ago I went to work on Danni's scrapbook at mom and dad's house, which I hadn't worked on in months. I was downstairs by myself listening to the radio, and the song came on then too.) It is a song that always makes me think of her, and lately it's been coming on the radio at the most appropriate times, like it did just then.

Friday morning was Josie's funeral. Ashton's mom also made it to the funeral, and was kind enough to watch Nora for me while I talked to Josie's parents. They had an open tiny casket for her, with a blanket wrapped around her, and a few toys for her. She looked to tiny and frail, but I managed to hold it together, not for too long though. When I looked through all of her pictures, and saw her parents reading a story to her and showing her a picture of her tiny big brother, I started to get all teared up.

As I was flipping the pages, one of Josie's great aunts started looking as I flipped though. One of the photo pockets held her neonatal shades. She looked a little confused, and I explained that some of the lights they use to keep them warm and healthy is hard on their eyes, so they put on these shades. We struck up a small conversation and I explained that I met Josie's parents at Faith's Lodge and had lost a daughter myself, but I couldn't image the pain of losing two children.

Ashton's mom couldn't stay for the funeral service, as she had to pick up her daughters. I stayed, despite Nora's fussiness. But, once I put her in the Moby wrap, she was content and dozed in and out, so I was able to stay. After the luncheon, I said goodbye to James & Josie's parents and gave them both a big hug, from me, from Adam, and from David's parents (David's mom wanted to carpool out with me, but wasn't able to make it).

2-Month Check-Up

Nora had her 2-month check-up today... that means shots. I was curious to see if she'd be like her Daddy & big sister, Danni, and not care, or if she'd be a big baby about it, (yes, I'll admit it!) like her Momma. Turns out she's a big baby (more than me even!). Adam held her leg while the nurse gave her her shots. I tried to distract her, but it didn't work. Now, I can listen to her cry at home for no apparent reason, but it broke my heart to see her cry, or maybe I should say scream, when she got her shots. Maybe, because I feel her pain!

Another note about her doctor visit... she's at the 88th percentile for height, and the 40th percentile for weight for her age. Which for height versus weight, puts her at the 0.9th percentile. So she's tall like her Daddy, but skinny like her Momma!

After her appointment, Momma & Daddy got their turn with the needles... we got our flu shots!

Matching Band-Aides!

On a final note (a Momma's gotta brag!), Dr. Cady said she's one of the cutest babies she's seen (and she has her own kids)!

Eleanor's Baptism

I've been meaning to do this post for a while, but I wanted to wait until we got her pictures from my brother. I think they're on Adam's computer, but I haven't checked... anyway, I'm write the post with or without the photos!

After we lost Danni, I could hold it together in most public settings. There was one that I couldn't, and I lost it several times: Baptisms. I don't know why it was this event that always set me off, but it seemed that right after we lost her, we always ended up at the mass & church with one or more babies being Baptized. (We were trying to find a new church, so we kind of hopped from church to church each weekend.) Most of the time I could hold it together enough to sit in the pew and (somewhat) inconspicuously wipe my tears away. (Of course, Adam always noticed). But I remember once at St. John Neumann, Adam taking me out of church and sitting in the lobby on a couch crying for most of the rest of mass.

With Eleanor's Baptism approaching, I wasn't sure how I would handle it. We had been to a couple Baptisms (for family & for stangers), and I was just fine. But when it's your Rainbow Baby, it's a little different. I wasn't sure if I'd cry for the joy of being able to Baptize her normally, or sadness because we didn't get to have a normal Baptism for Danielle. Surprisingly, I didn't cry at all. I had a huge smile on my face and was so happy to be able to celebrate this sacrament with Eleanor, but no tears!

Dream of Loosing Danni

I had a dream this morning right before I woke up to go to work. The layout of where we were, I likened to my parent's house somehow. The room Danielle was in was where my parents room is, and Adam and I were hanging out in right across the hall, in what would be my brother's room. Adam was playing video or computer games, I don't really know which. I kept going across to check on Danni, and when I walked in she wasn't there. A woman, that I likened to my mom, but it wasn't, wouldn't let me see her. Then I went back into the room that Adam was in and fell to the floor crying, and Adam just kept playing his game. That's when I woke up wanting to cuddle with Adam, but he was at work.