Being the parent of a teenager is rough sometimes...

I am sitting in the cafeteria...it appears a lot of my thoughts come to me most when I am sitting at lunch...interestingly enough.

The more I blog, the better I feel...sometimes. I noticed that I am increasingly becoming stressed out the closer and closer we get to Christmas. I broke down last night again. I think it was because my 13 year old son has finally reached the age where his mom is no longer "cool." It depressed me...especially when I recalled how I felt earlier this year when this realization was just beginning to set in. Except back then, I was comforted knowing that although Tanner would no longer like his mom or want his mom involved, there would be a new baby that would need me...so it was all going to be okay. I would not hurt as bad...

Then I lost Dallas and I am still in the "not cool mom" category so I find myself up a creek without a paddle.
Bummer.

I need to find something that Tanner and I will be able to do...something in common...so that he will want to be around me again. It used to be just me and him. For years that is all that either of us knew. Now we have a family and Tanner is a teenager.

Who knew parenting could be this rough?

Tyler kindly pointed out to me last night that by the age of 13 he was really rude to his mom and treated her poorly but he still loved her. He reminded me of this because Tanner is NOT disrespectful, he is NOT mouthy, he is NOT tempermental, or dishonest. I am lucky. I am blessed. My teenager is one of a kind and truly is a rare gem...and for that I AM THANKFUL.

Thank you God for my teenager. Thank you God for all the wonderful years you have given to both of us, and hopefully many more. Thank you God for all of our blessings...we have so many.

A word from the wise many moons ago

It is officially four days until Christmas. Dallas' first Christmas. I wish my baby boy was here to celebrate it with me. I wish I was able to stuff his stocking full of goodies. Instead I have a tiny stocking for him hung up on the tree. It allows me to keep him involved without seeming too weird to my friends and family that come over. Which is basically no one because we have no visitors LOL. I know that Dallas is having a wonderful time in Heaven. He isn't missing out by any means...we are though. I try not to look at it that way...but sometimes it is hard. Especially when I hear news about other people having their babies or getting pregnant.

I wish things were effortless for me like they are for them.

Envy is a bad thing.

How do I teach myself to not be envious. These women all have something that I desperately want. The ability to carry, and give birth to a healthy and happy baby. I yearn for that. My heart breaks because I know that I am not going to be able to do this...not in this lifetime. I know that I need to give up, hand it over to God, and accept any and everything that he lays in my path.

I am trying. It is hard.

I am a work in progress.

A friend of mine sat down for lunch together a few weeks after I said good bye to Dallas. She is very spiritual and loves God with ALL of her mind, body, and spirit. She has a deeper rooted faith than I have seen in many people. I love her and cherish her friendship. She said to me that day... "God's got a plan for you girl. He is going to have you do BIG things."

Oddly enough, the BIG things statement has been what has helped to keep my head about the water. Whenever I think about how I am drowning in my own grief, I remember what Amy said to me that day and I am reminded that all of this that I am going through right now is only temporary. He is molding me and is laying the groundwork for things to come. I just need to have faith and believe that good things will come.

I was the lucky one...

Christmas is in less than a week. Earlier this year, I was for certain that by this time of year I would be holding my infant son, wiped out exhausted from the lack of sleep, and happy. Good thing I never became a fortune teller LOL. I would owe a lot of refunds hahaha.

I have been thinking a lot about my little Dallas. I hope that someday I can make him proud. Whatever the reason was that he was sent to me, I am honored to have been the one to have got to carry him for as long as I did...however...I feel like there was something more that I am missing.

I keep getting this nagging feeling that I should be pursuing adoption...however... until Tyler and I have become husband and wife, I feel we need to just wait. I want the Lord to bless us so we have also abstained from "relations" and will continue to abstain until we are married. Regardless if we are blessed with a child of our own, or not...if we adopt, or not...if we choose to find other options, or not...I want to be able to see it as a blessing. I want to be able to sit back, and truly thank God for all that He has done in our lives. I do thank Him, daily...but that is not exactly what I mean.

I want to be able to look back five year from now, read these blogs, and see what miraculous things God used me for now...to get me to where I will be then. I can't wait to reflect back on all of this, and thank Him for all of it. Even the bad. I know I am hurting right now, and healing...but there will come a day when I can talk about Dallas and not feel shattered. I know some day that I will be able to talk to a woman who will be walking in the shoes that I am in, I will be able to give her advice, and show her how to be strong. It is not easy and I by no means feel strong, but I feel like I am beginning to heal.

Only time will tell.
I still have his first birthday to go. I think I am going to have my friends and family get together to celebrate his first birthday. We will be buying age appropriate gifts and donating them to a child or organization in need. I think it is the best way I can honor my little boy. I loved him so much in such a short time...I sure hope he knows how lucky I felt just to be his momma.

The monkey stands alone

I have my ups...way more ups then before...and I have my downs. Most of today was good, but then it hit me. We had a stuffed monkey in place if our son in our family picture. :(. I know God needed him more...I just wish sometimes God would take negotiations... LOL Dallas was my baby... And my heart had been shattered ever since he was called home. Tyler has truly been amazing. So has tanner. They are both so patient with me while I go through my erratic mood swings, temperamental tantrums, and emotional roller coasters. If I were them, I would leave me! They stand by me...and love me...and nurture my heart. Thank you God for them!!!!!!

Officially moving on, I think...

It is Sunday. Sunday after thanksgiving. My new nephew Mason will be a week old tomorrow. I still haven't met him, but I will. I am just going out of my way to do so. My due date has come and gone. I haven't cried in a week. Explain that?! There is only one clear, concise explanation as to why I have been strong in my weakest hours. God. Many have prayed, including myself. The Lord has held me up in the times where I was unable to hold myself. I think now that I have made it past the due date I cab start moving on. I hope. I love my son Dallas but it is time I get myself together and move forward for my son Tanner. My boys mean the world to me and I am worthless if all I do is mope and cry. Time to start smiling again...

Getting closer and closer

The last several weeks have served to be rather trying to both my patience and my faith. I am pushing forward and hanging on for dear life. I know that if I just cling tighter, God will provide me with the strength that I need to carry on with life...after Dallas. In less than an hour it will be the day that Towera goes in for her induction. I wish I could say I am excited. Don't get me wrong, I love her and I am happy for her. My problem is not with her, my problem is with me. My reminders of what I have lost. I dont understand what is different between Dallas and my previous miscarriages, but by far there has been a drastic increase in the amount of pain that my broken heart has endured. I hate how I feel. I am clinging to life on a daily basis in an intense amount of grief. Every day I cry. I take that back--every day I do not cry, I weep. My son should have met me on Wednesday. Instead, my sweet baby will have to wait a very long time hopefully before he gets to meet me. I hope he knows how much I love him. Several members in my family have commented on "how I need counseling" to better "deal" with Dallas' death. On one hand, they are probably right. Losing my baby boy was the single most painful thing I have ever endured. To add insult to injury, people who I thought were my friends have been no where to be seen since I lost my baby. So basically I am dealing with my intense amount of grief alone. Well I am not REALLY alone. I DO have Tyler and my mom and grandma Dennis. I just wish instead of telling me that I need counseling, people would just let me talk about my son. I know that I don't have memories to share, but I did have an incredible love for him. That should count for something. I was so excited for him, and when I got the news that things were not right, my world was crushed. I have been doing a 30 days of gratitude count down, ending On my due date. Since dallas is dead, it seems silly To some people to fixate on the date he was supposed to be born. To me it makes perfect sense. I want to honor my baby. I want to show God most of all that i appreciate everything that i DO have. Four months have passed. Not a day goes my that I don't think about my son. My life will never be the same...

And the world continues on...without him

One of the girls that I was pregnant with is close with my brother. Since her baby's father isn't going to be around, my brother will me taking responsibility of her son. Here is the kicker, we were due within days of each other. I have always known that seeing her son was going to be hard, but now he is going to be my nephew. It's official. I struggle with this big time. I can not open my heart yet. No matter how hard I try, I just can't. My mom said to me tonight that I am going to need to... Yes, on one hand she is right. On the other hand, she has never felt the emptiness and complete darkness that consumes you after your dreams of having a baby are crushed. She had four perfectly healthy and normal babies. I had one, and NINE unhealthy pregnancies. I got to feel Dallas kick which was amazing in itself. He was strong and he held on as long as he could, but it wasn't long enough. Now I am left here to grieve and my life must go on without him. My friends are getting ready to be welcoming their bundles into this world as I am reminded of what I will not be getting. I really need to stop focusing on what I don't get and start focusing on some of the positives I have. For instance, although I have a gaping hole in my heart, I have Abrielle to fill it. It is unfair to my niece to "use" her as a bandaid but for me, that is what she is. My bandaid. I love her so much. :)

Answers please...

I am trying my best to contain my anger in check right now. Tonight I went to a class at the church. When I got home Tyler was slobbering drunk, on a Sunday night mind you!!! I ignored him, got him to go to bed... Then he wakes up stumbles to the bathroom, or so I thought. A few seconds later I hear my sob yelling. I get up to see what's going on to find drunken stupid Tyler peeing on my sons bedroom door. Hey dumbass! Does that look like a toilet to you? I have enough going on. I don't need his "extra" alcohol days bogging me down too. My dad says I should just pray about it. He is probably right. Heavenly Father you are awesome. You are mighty. You are God. I am a sinner who gets angry and yells at a sick man on a weekly basis. Thank you for blessing me with many good days with this man. Lord please lead him to You and show him Your glory. Let him see You and everything you have done to and for him so that he can change his ways and live a healthier, more productive lifestyle. Lord, he really is a good man with a bad problem. He just needs someone to help him, and after four years...I am beginning to think it's not me. Lord please direct me in the path you want me to follow. If a life with him is what you will, then please help heal his heart so that I can begin to feel the joy again.

The walk and thoughts of adoption...

Well we did the walk on Sunday. It was awesome how many people came out to honor our boys! A true blessing to have those people in our lives. They played the song "precious child" at the service. I played that song at dallas' service so it was somewhat bittersweet to hear it in that setting. I am including the best pictures taken during the walk.
Separate from the walk, I have also had international adoption brought into the light for me lately too. I have thought about it in the past but dismissed it shortly after. Today I feel like God was screaming at me that it is what he wants me to do. Scary! But if I am to trust that He really does know what He is doing, I have to follow his callings. Period. My intention is to go to an informational meeting on Saturday. Hopefully I get some good information :)
I told my mom about my possible venture and she somewhat discouraged me to pursue it. It shocked me that she would discourage it because a. She was adopted b. She knows how badly I have wanted a baby and c. She has a newfound Christianity and doing good for the sake of others is something that we as Christians should encourage. After she slightly gave me her negative outlook she apologized. And continued to do so throughout the night. I love my mom so much. Her intentions were good I am sure, she just struggles with the right things to say sometimes, but who doesn't ;)
As far as the adoption process goes, I am only in the very beginning stages of mulling it over. If it's meant to be, God will open doors for me and lead me in that direction. Only time will tell...

I remember you today Dallas...

Today we walk...

3 months:not a day goes by...

Three months have come, and gone. I have been hit with the harsh reality that any day, my fellow preggers friends are going to be not only having their baby showers but also delivering their babies. My arms will remain empty. My heart will remain wounded. And my soul feeling like it has a gaping hole. Losing my little boy has truly molded me into the short tempered and impatient neurotic lunatic that I am today. I cried every day this week for him. Perhaps because the walk is in two days? Admitting that I am walking for my son is basically admitting and accepting that he is GONE. I haven't completely accepted it. Little by little I grasp it a little more. I'm so tired. Btw the one liner in the title "not a day goes bye" it's awesome?! Definitely going to be the basis of my next tattoo :). It will be beautiful

Sun shining bright on me today

Got the shirts back for the walk, they look great. I am excited and nervous at the same time. I want to walk for my sweet little one, but I also am just starting to move forward with things. The daily crying has let up a bit. I am starting to cry less and less. Rather than becoming consumed with my emotions now, I am just getting choked up and fighting back tears...some say it's covering up my pain...I say it is progress. My dark and gloomy cloud, little by little is beginning to fade. A glimmer of sunshine is gleaming through. All because of God. Call me crazy, say what you will, but I am grateful for ALL that He has done for me. Even my trials. He is shaping me into who He made me to be. Someday all of this will make sense, but until then I remain strong in my belief that He has a plan for me. Here is the final version of the shirts

Brighter days ahead!

It's 1am, I'm still wide awake, obviously. I got the shirts ordered for the walk. I am going to post the draft, and hopefully later I remember to post the final product. Things are getting a little easier, day by day. I am realizing now more than ever just how much God loves me. The way He has comforted me in my grief, amazes me! He knows just what I need, when I need it. I am so thankful for everything. I am starting to come to terms with losing Dallas. I am sad, but I am finally accepting that this is how it is. He is gone, for now. I once wrote Dallas a letter...right before he died actually. In the letter I told him how much I loved him(or her) and how I could wait to meet them until they were healthy enough to live. I said that I wanted them to stay put... Hindsight is 20/20. It's ironic. I wanted him then, but wanted to wait to see him. I miss him now, and hope that it is a long time before I see him again. Hopefully I have a lot of time left on my clock. I am in no rush. He is with Jesus, safe, happy, and healthy! We will meet again, someday. I have also started to try to open up my heart to my pregnant friends again. It's taking time, and although it stings a little still, I can feel myself finding joy for them again. God bless them. I wish little Dallas could have been here, but since he isn't, it is time that this momma start to move on with life. Enough of this dark cloud of depression already! Time for life to perk up! Time for that beautiful sun to start showering me with rays of joy again! Thank you Lord for every blessing, and trial, you have given me. Without them, who knows where I would be.

Today is a rough one...

Sitting in the lunchroom, alone, should provide me with plenty of time to sit and think. My least favorite thing to do anymore. Three months ago, moments like this were welcomed. I would often find myself daydreaming of my baby. I was so excited to be pregnant, even though it was a rough road, I was grateful for it. Now as I sit, all I can think of is the bitterness that consumes me. I am bitter and angry because I missed my opportunity to have another baby. I am jealous of my friends who are carrying on, yet I am thankful that they get to. It's a strange place to be in, my shoes that is. I'm confused of how exactly I really feel...yet I know exactly how I feel! Moving forward, my car started to act up last weekend so I called my mom in a panic. She kindly mentioned to me that recently she was watching a Joyce Meyer sermon in the morning before work. The topic of the sermon: people who are put here to suffer to teach the rest of us lessons. My mom mentioned to me that maybe I am one of those people. I instantly broke down into a sobbing mess of destruction. If that is true, and I really am ONLY here to suffer, then what the heck is the point of being here? Surely He has better plans for me then that?! I am not perfect by any means but I strive to be the best I can, I am honest, and loyal, and true. I have always held on to my faith, especially in the hard and dark times in my life. Surely He did not put me here just so I can suffer for others sakes. I struggle with that concept quite a bit actually. Especially on days like today where the emotional suffer is to the max. I cry myself to work every day, if I am not on the phone after work I will cry myself home from work too. I hysterically cry myself to sleep at least once or twice a week. I choke up at the mere mention of my sweet Dallas or anything that could remind me of him. I am struggling daily just to wake up, paint on a happy face, move on with life, and be the mom that Tanner needs. Being consumed with losing Dallas has changed me, and definitely not for the better. Carrying him changed me for the better, losing him has broken my heart.

2 months and counting, the tears keep on coming...

It's been just over 2 months since I lost Dallas. Tomorrow will be 2 month since his funeral. They say time heals all wounds, I call their bluff. Perhaps my situation is rare, perhaps it is the norm. I cry daily, sometimes twice, sometimes all day. I think of my son and what he could have been and how he would have looked. How he and I would have had such a strong love and how well behaved he would have been. Smart too. I also think of God and how grateful I am for His love. I am comforted knowing that my son is with Him and I will get to see both of them someday. Honestly, I pray daily asking for guidance. Where does He want me to be? Am I to give up my hopes and dreams of having another baby? I think so. That is the one thing that has held me back from fully following Christ. Maybe this is the lesson. Who knows? If I quit yearning for a baby and trust that He really does have bigger plans for me than I do for myself, I wonder what it would be like. I had pretty much given up, and then along came Dallas. Carrying him renewed my hopes and dreams of having more children. Did I carry him for that reason? To renew my yearning? Lord I need your direction here more than ever. Do I continue trying for another child, or do I throw in the towel. Either way, I need to trust that you will lead me to where it is you want me to be. Lord please open my heart to hear your instructions for my life. Lead me where you want me, I will follow.

Lunch time full of thought

Some days I feel like giving up. Other days I feel like things are looking up. Either way, the days always end in the same direction. Leaning towards God. I do not always embrace His will the way that I should. It is hard at times to accept that MY will may not be His will. I know that he has been knitting my life together since long before I was born. I need to fully trust that He really does know what He is doing after all and that there are no mistakes. It just makes me wonder what exactly His plan is for me. I have never loved another person the way that I love Tanner. I have always believed my sole purpose in life was to be a mommy. I helped raise my siblings as a child, I took on many babysitting jobs, I love hanging out with my son, nieces, nephews, and children in general. In fact, the best job I ever had was in a daycare. Doesn't that mean that my purpose here is to serve children? I am passionate about children, about life, about giving them opportunity. Is this how He knit me? For children? Or have I completely misread all of it? My passion for children is guided partially due to my loss, but mostly because I selfishly use children to brighten my day. I don't care who you are, You could be having the worst day ever and a funny child walk in the room and your mood will instantly change. If not, you are not human! Part of me believes deep down that someday I will be adopting, the other part of me yearns for another baby of my own. Will it ever happen? I have no clue. All I know is the loss of little Dallas has shown me that I not only need to keep my faith with God but that Tyler really can be relied upon. He has held my heart together over the last several weeks. He knows when a meltdown is coming, I don't have to ask, and he is there. By my side. Incredible man I have <3

Challenges that are facing me, I will not fold.

I have spent my entire afternoon, evening, and night on the computer. I have searched endlessly for support groups to get into, and I may have found one. Not going to lie. I am scared. To take the initial step into a support group, you must first fully admit that there is a problem. I have to admit that things in my life are not going according to the way God has intended for me. I have to admit that I am lost. That I need help.

The fact of the matter is, I am lost. I do need help. A lot of it.

I have made it through the majority of today without breaking down and sobbing hysterically. Yesterday that was so not the case.

At 10am yesterday, exactly one hour after I had began my work day, I got a text message from Towera. Normally I enjoyed the text messages that she and I would pass back and forth. She was due five days after me. Our babies would have been growing up together.
She advises me that she is having a boy. Great! Are you kidding me? So not only do I get to watch your belly grow at the pace mine should have, but now I also get to watch her son grow at the same pace as my son would have. Seems like a cruel joke to me. I know on the same token that God is also mourning with me. He is not in heaven laughing hysterically at my grief. I have had my fair share.

I tried to talk to Kaylyn about it, but she took everything I said personal. She is also pregnant, but was two months behind me. Not quite as hard for me to deal with as Towera's is. Call me crazy but it is how it is. Well, after Kaylyn chose to take the hurtful path, I called Amie. I knew that I would be able to lean on her. She is so faithful and true to the Lord and I knew that she would give me the words that I needed to hear the most. Of course she did. She keeps reminding me that God has big plans for me. He is trying to prepare me for those plans and that I just need to trust in Him.

I try. It is hard sometimes. Especially on days like yesterday where everyone around me makes me feel like I am crazy for continuing to grieve.

Dallas was my son. Not only was he my son, but he gave me hope. I truly believed that everything was going to work out to MY plan. I have wanted to have another baby for so long. I am an incredible mommy, and I know that if Dallas would have been born on time, he would have been showered with love and affection for all of his days. That was not the case though, so it is time that I start accepting that he and I will never meet in this lifetime. I know that whenever I do go to heaven, he will be there...waiting to meet his mommy. Until then, I am going to work on my faith. I want to get closer to God. I have to.

My Dear Dallas, I loved you so much. I hope you know that.
I am going to post a picture that I love of Dallas.

And our hope for you is firm, because we know that just as you share in our sufferings, so also you share in our comfort. 2 Corinthians 1:7

Ten years of pain...and I still keep on truckin

I found a website today that I think would be beneficial for me. I was reading on the website that we can share “Our Story” there. This could be somewhat therapeutic so I have decided to take time, sit down, and write down my pregnancy journey over the last thirteen years.

In 1998, at the ripe old age of 16 I found that I was pregnant. Terrified and unsure of what the future held, I hung on to my pregnancy and was determined to be the best mother possible to that little child that I was carrying. My mother asked me if I wanted an abortion, I refused. Hindsight is always 20/20 and I thank God that my mother was not more persistent. Had she forced me into an abortion, I would have never been able to experience the joy that my son has been able to offer me. That pregnancy went perfectly. No complications at all. I did gain a ton of weight, but I suppose that is natural given the large amount of food I was consuming.

At the end of 2000, I found out that I was pregnant again. I assumed that everything would go according to plan since my previous pregnancy went off without a hitch. By the end of January 2001, I had started to spot. I really didn’t know what that meant. I was young and had never experienced a loss up to this point in my life. I spotted off and on for two days. After I started to cramp I went to the hospital. I was naïve and young. I still believed that there was something that the Dr.’s would be able to do if there was something wrong with my baby. Even though I was under 3 months pregnant, to me, it was still MY baby. While I was at the hospital, they did a vaginal ultrasound. There was a click, and out of nowhere I started hemorrhaging. I was then rushed into the operating room for an emergency D&C. I was crushed. The emotional pain begins…

Several years later in 2004 I found out that I was again pregnant. Apprehensive of accepting the pregnancy because of the emotional pain I endured years before with the miscarriage I immediately went to my OB in an attempt to make sure things were going how they should and that my baby was going to be ok. Although I had one loss under my belt, I still believed in my OB. My OB assured me that one in four women experience a miscarriage. I had absolutely nothing to worry about because the odds were that I would have a perfect pregnancy and would be holding my baby by the end of the year. Again, I started to spot. I rushed myself to the emergency room, scared and terrified but hoping for good news. I had an ultra sound after I got to the hospital. The tech said that she could see three sacs. I was having triplets?! This was incredible, yet saddening at the same time because she also said that it appeared that I was in the beginning stages of a miscarriage. The next several days I was in constant contact with my OB. I cramped and passed clots for days. My OB informed me that I could possibly miscarry one or two of them and still remain pregnant. Again, I am going to stick with the fact that I was young and naïve. I believed him and held on to that. Imagine my heartache after I passed the third and final embryo. I again, was under 2 months gestation.

Now that I had two miscarriages consecutively so he was willing to classify me as a “habitual spontaneous aborter.” Great tag to have huh? We decided to try again, third times a charm right? This time I was given Progesterone pills. Never tested to make sure my body didn’t produce enough of this hormone but the Dr thought for sure this would help. Along came Thanksgiving of 2004, I was about 8-9 weeks pregnant, and again, started to spot. Happy Holidays! I spent the day in the ER, then when I was released I was told to take it easy and remain on bed rest. They were unsure of what was happening and the only way to find out was to wait it out. So I did. Next day, I started to cramp. That was the end of that pregnancy. I was sad, but I was getting used to this situation now. I was becoming numb and learning how to quickly get over a loss.

We decided “one last time.” Getting pregnant was effortless. I was put on progesterone once again. At nearly 8 weeks I had an ultrasound, in March of 2005 and it was discovered that the baby could have turned into a mole. A molar pregnancy can be life threatening for the mother if it goes untreated. The fetal tissue can potential turn into cancer and cause the mother to need extensive chemotherapy. I had an emergency D&C. I was done. Three pregnancies in one year was enough. No more. Now that my life had been threated I was over the thought of carrying another child, or so I thought.

In 2008 I found that I was pregnant again. Naturally I was horrified, but willing to take on this new adventure because if it was meant to be it would. I once again took progesterone pills and this time made it to almost 12 weeks! This was the farthest I made since I was pregnant with my son so many years ago. By my birthday, in November, I was beginning to spot. The miscarriage had begun. The emotional pain of losing this pregnancy lasted only a couple of days. I had learned how to be numb and unaffected. I cried for a few days but soon was back to normal.

In March 2009 I found out I was pregnant again. I was scared to death because I had a feeling from the beginning that something was wrong. My Dr put me on progesterone pills and heparin shots this time. He said it was his form of “VooDoo” to potentially help me along. A few weeks later I started having some pain in my side. After an ultrasound it was found that I had an ectopic pregnancy. That means that the baby was lodged in my fallopian tube. I had to have the methotrexate shot in order to save my tube, and potentially my life. If the baby would have continued to grow, my tube could have burst, and my life would be in danger. I was sad, about not getting the chance to be pregnant any longer, but I was relieved that my life was no longer in jeopardy. It took me again only a few days to be back to normal and over the “sad era” following a loss. I had taught myself well on how to grieve the loss and by now I was pure numb. I was done. Finished. Beyond done. I wanted to live for my son so I had finally accepted that there would be no more. Just him. And I was okay with it.

February 21, 2010 my sister went into preterm labor and delivered her son Nathan at only 22 weeks gestation. He was too underdeveloped and was going to die immediately after birth. He lived for 29 minutes and passed away in his mommy’s arms. We were all devastated by his loss.

Early 2011 I tested positive one last time. I was angry, horrified, terrified, and scared among a mix of millions of other emotions. My son was going to be a teenager at the end of the year. How was I going to be able to bring a baby into our already complex lifestyle? I was immediately put on progesterone pills. Before, I had always put my faith and hope into my OB. I believed that he would be able to pull me through everything. Although, he is a professional, he is not God. I finally put my faith where it belonged. As soon as I found out I was pregnant, I prayed diligently and I put the pregnancy in God’s hands. His will would be done. (Deep down I hoped my will would be done.) At my ten week appointment, I got to hear my baby’s heart beat through the Doppler. This was the first time this had happened since I was pregnant with my son. I was overjoyed. For the first time ever, I had HOPE. Numerous times in the past, I miscarried right before I made it to my ultrasound appointment. This time, at my twelve week appointment, my little baby waved at me. I could see his beautiful hands and feet as he swam comfortable within my womb. My hope was reaffirmed as well as my faith in my pregnancy. I was confident in the success of this pregnancy, after all, I had given it to God. Week after week things went according to schedule. Everything was perfect for once. The morning sickness had me out of commission for a long time, but it was all worth it as long as I got to see my baby. At 17 weeks I had an ultrasound company scheduled to find out the sex. I was told by the tech that I was dehydrated and to come back in a week. All that my baby wanted to show off was the little beautiful toes. The next day, I had a severe gallbladder attack and ended up in the ER. The doctor ordered a couple of ultrasounds. I thought this was my chance to check out the sex since yesterday’s effort was pointless. The tech this time advised me that my baby had low fluid and that my baby was measuring 2 weeks behind schedule. She asked if I was leaking fluid. Not to my knowledge, I wasn’t. I was admitted, put on an IV to help hydrate me and potentially help with the fluid, then released. I was put on an all liquid diet both for my gallbladder attacks and to help my baby potentially make some fluid. I had an appointment scheduled one week from there to check the heart beat and two weeks from there to check on baby’s status through a second level ultrasound. The Perinatalogist that came to see me advised that there could be three potential reasons for my baby’s fluid to be low.

· Option one: I had developed the Parvovirus. 50/50 shot that the baby could survive IF that was the case.

· Option two: My baby’s lungs and kidneys were malfunctioning and he would likely not make any more fluid.

· Option three: I was not taking in enough fluid, increasing my fluid intake could potentially help my baby make more of it’s own.

At my one week check up, parvo virus was ruled out and I got to hear my baby’s heart beat. Things still looked promising. I still had HOPE. On my little sister’s 21^st birthday I had my appointment for the 2^nd level ultrasound. I was excited to finally find out if our baby was a boy or a girl. I had a dream the night before that it was a girl and that the fluid levels had increased and were back to normal. All was good, I was hopeful that my dream had been a forecast on good things to come. I was wrong. At 20 weeks, I nervously waited to get into the appointment for well over an hour. I had Tyler, my mom, and Tyler’s mom all in the room with me. We were all excited to see our little bundle and to find out what it was. The ultrasound lasted only a few seconds although it felt like an eternity. I could tell instantly that there was no fluid. I watched her make the measurements, there was still hope that I just wasn’t reading the screen right, after all, I am not a professional. The baby measured at 16 weeks. That means that my son quit growing a month ago. It means that he hasn’t grown at all in the last two weeks. This could not be happening. I had that dream, everything was ok. I prayed to God at the beginning and said this pregnancy was His. I had His protection, this wasn’t happening!!!! The tech rushed out of the room to get the perinatologist. They both came in accompanied by one extra person carrying a box of tissues. His words will forever ring in my head. “I’m afraid it is not good news. The baby is dead.” I blacked out after that and I don’t remember much else for the rest of the day. I had to wait for 10pm the next day before they could induce me. There is only one room that dead babies are born into, so I would have to wait for that room to open up. That room just so happened to be the room that my nephew was born in a little over a year before. Great. Room of doom, assigned to me. They had to insert a pill into the cervix every three hours. This was going to cause my cervix to open and it could take a couple of days to actually deliver. My entire family was with me, even though they knew it could potentially be a long road ahead, they were there. Throughout the night I contracted constantly but I had a morphine drip that helped with the pain. I was so afraid to see what my son was going to look like. I knew he would not look like my nephew although they were the same age practically, because my son quit growing a month ago. I tried to prepare for what I would see, and how I would respond. But nothing could. On July 7^th, 2011at 7:33 a.m. my son was born weighing only 3 ounces and being only 7 inches in length. He was still inside his sac which was a little frightening. The doctor removed him from the sac so that I could see him and hold him. He was definitely not what I had pictured or imagined visually. We named him Dallas. In his 20 weeks inside of my womb, he showed me more love, endurance, and how much of a true fighter he was. He wanted to meet his mommy. I wanted to meet him. We will, someday. Until then, I have to fight the good fight and remain strong in my faith. Tomorrow it will be one month since my little boy lost his battle. Not one single day has gone by that I have not thought about him. I grieve for his loss constantly. The wound is still fresh. I suppose as time goes on, this will get easier. It always does. But this time around, my loss is much more than it has ever been. My son had a funeral. I held him. I had hope and faith and belief that he would be able to come into my life and meet his mommy. Although my dreams are crushed, my faith is not. I still believe that God has big plans for me and he is trying to make sure that His great plans for my future will be fulfilled. Until then, I remain faithful. I just hope and pray that little Dallas knows how much I loved him and wanted him. I know he is in heaven playing with his cousin Nathan. Lucky little boys get to meet the most awesome Grandpa Dennis before the rest of the kids in the family. They are all three probably playing video games galore.

The darkness seeps in

I'm suffering. I'm in a Dark hole. I have lost both of my sons. One to death the other to teenage-hood. I have no one. No purpose. No reason to be here. I need more than ever Lord for you to wrap me in your arms and make everything okay. I have always been loyal and faithful to you oh Lord so please show me your mercy. Please heal my broken heart...and womb... So that someday I too can carry a child to term and deliver a happy healthy baby. My heart cries out for my sons. Lord please give me a reason for living again. I feel so empty.

Sad night for us...

I never knew Tyler was as sad about Dallas as I am. he would have been a good daddy. just doesnt seem fair. Life is not fair. We both spent the night crying. All day and all night. I sure hope Dallas knows how loved he is! ! ! !

My life is a big, giant, enormous ball of confusion now

It has almost been two official weeks since our little Dallas came to us too early. My heart is still broken, but little by little we are piecing our lives back together. It will never be complete without him, but we are going to learn how to manage our life with him only as a could have been...
I had my gallbladder removed on Monday. I am in a tremendous amount of pain. The pain prevents me from crying over Dallas. I cant cry because it hurts too much. Literally. Maybe that is a good thing?

I am more IN LOVE with Tyler than I have ever been. He is a remarkable man. An incredible man. He has stood by my side through everything over the last two weeks. He hasnt budged. I will NEVER find a more loyal, loving, and concerned partner as I have found in him. I must marry him. I know I have had problems with his drinking...but that is literally THE ONLY problem I have with him. Everything else about him is incredible.

That being said. I am going to start talking to Tyler about our options. We will have a child of our own someday...even if I will not be able to carry it. I am thinking about potentially looking into surrogacy. It would give us a chance to have a baby of our own, without having to put my body at risk. I know that nothing will ever replace Dallas... the thing is...carrying him, I was shown how badly we both want a child together. I love Tyler so much and I want to be able to give him a child. I will, whether it be from my womb or not. Naturally, I want it to be. But suffering the loss of our sweet little boy, I dont know if I can endure the pain of that again. Dallas gave me hope. Now I dont know what to do.

Other than pray.

Dear Dallas,

My Dear Son Dallas,
Words can not express my grief. You gave me hope. Losing you, I feel as though I have lost everything. In the coming days I will be getting your urn back and be holding a funeral for you, but, I am not ready to accept that you really are gone...forever.
I know you are with God...and that helps somewhat... I am selfish though and wish you could be here with me instead.
I just wanted to write and tell you how much u truly love and adore you baby boy!!!

Some Blogs I created at work, an ODE to my sweet little son.

June 10, 2011

I am officially 16 weeks and 2 days along in this pregnancy. The thought alone has not quite hit me…or maybe it has. I just never really imagined that the day would come that I would actually be THIS far along in the pregnancy. I have had numerous losses and I had finally accepted that I was not meant to bear anymore children.

Tanner was it for me. I had accepted it and I was happy with it. He is my life. I would do anything for my baby boy, even though he is not much of a baby anymore. In fact, he is growing into quite the remarkable young man. He makes me so proud on almost a daily basis. It is so hard to believe that my baby boy will be a teenager this November. It is incredible how time really does fly by. It seems like just yesterday I was walking him into his preschool classroom, he was excited and bouncing down the hall while I was wiping away tears because I was not quite ready for him to be old enough for school. And here we are years later, he is entering the 7^th grade, trying to date girls, playing explicit video games, and acting more and more like an adult with each passing day. And yet, this momma is proud. I know that the next year is going to be bringing some very big changes for the both of us, but I am confident that through everything he will still remain to be the same sweet, honest, and respectable young man that I have raised him to be.

After my son turns into a teenager, we will be welcoming a new baby into our family. Whether it is a boy or girl does not matter, all that matters is that it is healthy and happy. This will be an incredibly large transition for both of us. My only priority has been Tanner. He has been the sole reason for every breath that I take for the last 13 years. I am not quite sure how either of us will be responding or reacting to me having to share my attention, but I am sure that we will adjust accordingly. I foresee it being a little harder for him then for me, but I will do my best to make sure that he still understands and believes that he remains to be my pride and joy. The reason I lost so many babies in the past was because I wanted so desperately to give Tanner a brother or sister to grow up with. However, God clearly had other intentions. It makes perfect sense to me now, but when it happened it didn’t…obviously. Tanner’s dad gave him siblings since I couldn’t. This baby is not coming to us for Tanner, but rather, it is coming for me.

I love my son so much. God knows this. When my son leaves the nest I will likely have a mental breakdown and be locked up in a mental ward. I will have no purpose any longer…well that may be a little drastic, but all in all, somewhat close to my future reality. Either way, when college comes, this mommy bear is not going to do very well. Never fear! God has answered my prayers. I will have this new little bundle of joy to help distract me. This child will never take Tanner’s place, however it will be able to help me accept that my son is very quickly growing into a man and I am going to need to let go of the reins, a little bit, and soon. Besides, with my focus shifting a little bit from Tanner and on to this baby, hopefully I will be able to give Tanner a little bit more freedom and let up on the “strict-ness” that he so desires.

June 24, 2011

Well, as it stands today I am 18 weeks and 3 days. The last week has served as an extreme faith tester, but never fear! My faith and hope remain strong! Last Saturday (6/18/11) I had an appointment with an ultrasound company to find out if my little bundle was going to be a boy or a girl. Unfortunately, baby was shy and only wanted to show off the pretty little toes. The ultrasound tech advised me I was dehydrated and insisted that I start drinking a lot of fluid.

I was in pain all night due to the ultrasound. I think she pressed too hard.

The next day I was able to walk minimally, however for dinner I made the fatal error of eating my mom’s lasagna. Almost instantaneously my upper abdomen began to throb with a pain that was too intense for me to handle. My mom then forced me to go to the hospital. The admitting nurse knew immediately what was wrong and made the prediction that I was having a gallbladder attack. She did not even “waste” her time checking on the baby because she was for certain that it was not the baby, but was instead just my gallbladder. After I took some vicodin and the pain did not subside, they sent me to see another Dr who ordered both an abdomen and a uterine ultra sound.

The first ultra sound was very alarming. It showed that I was not dehydrated, but that the baby’s amniotic fluid was very low. I then got admitted for the night and hooked up to an IV to possibly help add some fluid into my system.

There are three possible scenarios as to why my little one has low fluid.

· Option One: Baby’s kidneys or lungs are not working/developing properly.

· Option Two: I have developed the parvovirus which can potentially negatively impact the baby. If I have- I will just need close monitoring to see how baby responds to the virus.

· Option Three: I have not been taking in enough fluids, which has caused low fluids for baby. Increasing my fluid intake- a fluid diet- should help increase baby amniotic fluid.

Either way, options one and two are not desirable. Well neither is three really, but out of the three options, number three is the most optimal.

June 24, 2011

A Letter To My Baby:

Dear Baby,

You are the apple in my eye. I can’t wait to meet you, hug you, snuggle you, kiss you, smell you, hear your cry, hear your coo, and watch you grow. I am only halfway to meeting you. Soon enough my dear, not too soon though okay? I want you to try your best to stay put until your body is ready for this world. In just a couple of days I will get to have my 2^nd level ultra sound and will hopefully get to find out if you are a boy or a girl. I will also hopefully find out that your amniotic fluid has increased. Your fluid was low about two weeks ago and mommy has been on an all fluid diet to try to help you. It has been rough but it is all worth it. Again, I just wanted to write to you and thank you for fighting so hard to live, also to tell you how much I am already in love with you. I can wait to meet you - - but just until your body is ready.

Love Mommy.

P.S. You will be so spoiled! Mommy, Daddy, and big brother Tanner will all make sure that you have the happiest life any child could ask for. You will be so luck and we will all be blessed to have you in our lives!

Names we are considering:

Boys: Dallas

Willie

Girls: Lillian Faith

Ava Grace

July 1st, 2011

I am nervous. I know I shouldn’t be but I am. My appointment that is going to let me know what the status of my pregnancy is coming up in just four days!

Today, I am 19 weeks…but by then, I will be 20. I can hardly believe it myself. Every time I think about it “Wow I am ___weeks along” I feel like it is a dream and I should pinch myself to wake up. I have really made it here. Yet I am not “out of the woods” quite yet.

The baby is not considered viable in the medical world until I am at minimum of 24 weeks. That is still a whole entire month to go. It is not that I fear going into preterm labor (even though I do slightly have that concern primarily because of what I saw Wookie go through) it is more that I fear that my child will not be able to develop at the speed and pace that it should because of the low fluids.

I am trying to help the little one the best I can. Drink, drink, drink! I even drink my dinner. It is a bit extreme but it is helping me believe that I really am making a difference for my child.

On Tuesday, July 5^th, I will learn of my child’s situation. Will he be a he, or will he be a she? Will the lungs and kidneys be functioning, will the fluid have increased enough to be considered “safe”…I have so many questions and so few answers. That will all change on Tuesday.

I am anxious. I am nervous. I am scared.

I am hopeful. I am excited. I am ready.

To know the truth.

May God grant me the serenity to accept the things I can not change.

The courage to change the things I can.

AND the wisdom to know the difference!