The hole in my heart.

It was 2 years ago today that our darling little Grace was stillborn.

I don't know what to say.
It's 2 years of my life that have been filled with so much sadness, and heartbreak and grief. So much longing and so much pain.

She was such a beautiful little baby and I wish more than anything in the world that we got to see her grow up.

Perfect.

The strangest thing just happened to me.
I was lying in bed (of course!) and looking up pregnancy books on my iPad (iBooks).
I came across a book called 'High risk pregnancy - Why Me?' It was written by a woman in the US who had a little boy that was stillborn at 22 weeks, and later she went on to have 2 successful full-term pregnancies.

Her book is half emotional support for people dealing with cervical stitches, best rest and the worry that comes after having a premature stillborn baby and half a medical reference guide, as she has spent the last 4 years researching everything to do with premature labour, incompetent cervix, the benefits of bed rest etc.

This is the blurb from the back of the book:

'You're tired, stressed and frustrated. Bed rest seems like a life sentence, and worry drowns out the voice of hope. However, through her own emotional story, Author Kelly Whitehead will help you understand that it's possible to manage during a high-risk pregnancy.
'High-Risk Pregnancy - Why Me?' gives you the emotional reassurance and medical guidance necessary to face - and even enjoy - a high risk pregnancy.
Designed as the comprehensive guide for possible preterm mothers, their families and doctors, 'Why Me?' lays out the relevant medical information in an easy-to-understand format because it's written for you - a mother at risk of an early delivery.'

Could there be a book that is more perfect for me? I feel like it was written for me personally!
Crazy.

If you know anyone who is going through a high risk pregnancy (or planning to) please forward this post or send them the link to the website, as I know I would be so grateful if someone had sent it to me.

Random photo of some flowers that Sophie picked for me on her way home from school one day.

Now and then

I have been thinking a lot about pregnancy lately (fancy that?) I have been thinking about how incredibly different it was being pregnant with Sophie. A pregnancy free from worry, a pregnancy that was full of joy and wonder.. and no stress.

I fell pregnant with Sophie a few weeks months after I met Tom. It was a very big surprise (as you can imagine, but one that just felt right). I had the easiest pregnancy (other than a bit of morning sickness in the first few months) and spent the entire pregnancy dreaming about the little baby I would meet at the end. Because being pregnant means that you get a baby at the end, of course.

I was super healthy (other than the strange cheeseburger cravings at 2am), I went to pre-natal yoga twice a week, I walked down to Bondi Beach and went swimming almost every day during summer, I drank fresh juice every morning, I crapped on about how my kids will never have plastic toys or watch tv (so, so ignorant) and I don't think I saw a single doctor during the entire pregnancy.

I gave birth at the local birth centre with a midwife and after a natural 4 hour labour (I mean 4 hours from being fast asleep thinking I had 10 days or so left.. to holding a little baby in my arms. It was so quick!) I went home the same day.

Tom and I thought that this whole baby making thing was pretty damn easy.

And then life had other plans.

The last 3 years or so have been filled with loss and longing. I have spent every single day during that time desperately trying to fall pregnant or desperately trying to stay pregnant. There has not been a single day when I have had relief from those thoughts.

So now I am pregnant for the 5th time. I have seen more doctors than I can count, I have been hospitalised, went through surgery, had more hormones/ pain killers/ antibiotics etc. pumped into my body than I have had in my whole life, had more blood tests, ultrasounds (10 at last count), tests, tubes, monitors.. you name it.

But, the biggest difference? The fear. The fear that haunts you every day. The worry. The Anxiety. The what ifs? The unknown.

The hope. The hope that things will work out this time.


/Photo of me 35 weeks pregnant with Sophie/

"I know how you feel, my dog died" and other things not to say to someone who gave birth to a dead baby.

I am not sure if I should publish this post.

I actually wrote it more than 6 months ago, but I thought it sounded a bit mean and insensitive so I never posted it, but Ill try and write without sounding too ungrateful.

There are a few things that people say to me when they find out about Grace that really annoy me. Like, annoy me to the point where sometimes I think I might slap the next person that says it to me. I always smile and say thanks, but I think to myself "Who the hell says that? I just told you my baby died and you said THAT" !!??!

Tom always reminds me that I can not get upset because no one means to upset me, they are trying to empathise with me and make me feel better. And Tom and I have always said that if it had happened to someone else, we would have no idea what to say, I mean what do you say? There are often no words.

But still there are a few things that people say to me all the time that annoy me.
The thing I get most often is "Oh well, at least you are still young". Now, if I am talking about infertility, then sure, I'm very lucky I'm still young but in response to learning that my daughter died!? When people say this they are reassuring me that I have plenty of time to have more children, but they are missing the point completely. It does not matter how many more children I have there will always be a great big Grace shaped hole in my life. Full stop.

The other thing that people say is "I'm very sorry, I understand how you feel.. my dad died last year". I know this sounds insensitive but parents are supposed to die before you.. Your children are NOT. There is something fundamentally wrong with the world when you bury your own child. I know this sounds cruel, I'm sure losing a parent is awful (My dad got given 2 months to live almost two years ago and I have watched him get worse day by day) but I just can not imagine that it is anything like losing a child.

Alot of people like to tell me that "everything happens for a reason". This is fine to say to someone if they have lost their car keys or missed their bus on the way to work, but really? The whole medical profession can not find a reason my baby died, but you think there is? Oh good for you. I think the only people who believe this are people who have never suffered any real tragedy in their lives.

And lastly (and this one might make me very unpopular), is that people say "I'm so sorry, I know how you feel.. I had a miscarriage last year". Now, the ONLY reason I can write this is because I had two miscarriages before Grace died and I can tell you that having a miscarriage is nothing like having a stillborn baby. NOTHING.
I know this sounds so awful to say and I am really not trying to take anything away from people who have suffered a miscarriage. I know that when I had mine they were devastating, heartbreaking beyond belief. At the time I thought it was the worst kind of pain. But then I went through hours of excruciating labour and gave birth to a dead little girl who I got to hold in my arms and that was a pain unlike anything else. The kind of heartbreak that makes you wonder if you can go on living. If you can go on breathing. If you will ever survive.

__________________________

So there. I said it.
I really hope that I don't sound like I am dismissing other people's loss as nothing. I don't mean to take anything away from people who have experienced a loss and I know that it is soo hard to know what to say. But people, things like "My dog died last week" or "Oh, you mean you had a stillborn, that's okay.. I actually thought you had lost a living child" or (when I returned all the baby clothes I had bought) "Well, at least you get some nice new clothes for yourself" are not cool things to say. Not cool.

This is a photo of Grace's coffin. It was taken exactly one year ago on this day. Sitting in the funeral parlour choosing a baby sized coffin while stuffing tissues down my bra to try and control the milk leaking from my boobs (the milk that was supposed to be nourishing my little baby) was the lowest moment of my life.

365 days

It was exactly one year ago today that our darling little girl was born sleeping.
Much too early. Much too small, but still so perfect.

I miss you everyday.

I hate this picture, but I love it too.

In a couple of days it will be my birthday. This is a photo of me on my birthday last year.
I was 21 weeks pregnant with Grace.
So happy. So blissfully unaware of what was about to happen.

I wonder if my birthday will always be a sad day for me from now on. Will it be my happy birthday or will it be 10 days before Grace died? I guess that is a choice I have to make.

28 sucked big time. But 29 is going to be the best year of my life.
(PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE).

two thousand and twelve

Firstly, I'm really sorry for my last post. I hope that I did not scare anyone off! I really wanted to write that post before the new year so that I could start fresh in 2012. Tom was really upset to read my last post and (being the eternal optimist that he is) said "What happened was tragic. It was completely heartbreaking and always will be, but you have two choices.. You can let the grief overwhelm you and give up OR you can realise that we are so lucky in so many ways and charge ahead knowing that life is going to be great. And actually, you don't have the option of giving up because we have Sophie and she still needs her mum and dad to be full of life." (or something along those lines).

And I agree with him 100%. Now, that does not mean in anyway that I am not allowed to be sad, to feel pain, to have days when things feel hopeless.. but, it means that I need to stop living in my little bubble of 'life is really cruel to me' and start appreciating what I do have. Tom's dad actually said something to me the other day that really stuck.. he said "every single day you get closer to the day that you will be pregnant".. and that's so true! I never looked at it like that before.. but today I am closer to being pregnant than yesterday and that is great.

(I think that it's been so hard for me because when I fell pregnant with Grace I had already been trying for years to fall pregnant again and had already had two miscarriages. I thought it could not get any worse.. and that was 2 years ago! The next time I fall pregnant will be my 5th pregnancy. I will have to spend the entire pregnancy on full bed rest and have a stitch put in my cervix that has a high risk of causing a miscarriage at 11 weeks. It's actually funny that I am so obsessed with falling pregnant when that is only the very first step in a very long journey!)

So anyway, I still would like to write about Grace and infertility and all those things, but I really don't want this to be a 'dead baby blog' and I just wanted you to know that.


Secondly, These tomatoes came from Tom's mum's garden yesterday, there are hundreds of them (or at least it feels that way).. Pretty awesome hey! (Tom gives me a hard time for having a blog called Grow. Cook. Sew. when we don't actually grow anything at the moment.. so this is for him). If I was allowed to use emoticons I would insert a face with a poking out tongue here.

The year that was.

Thank god the year is almost at an end! It has been the worst year of my life, I mean, how could it not be? I began the year by giving birth to a dead baby.

I am so sick of the pain that surrounds my life every single day. I would do anything in the world to have someone erase the memory of Grace from my mind. I know (hope) that one day her memory will bring me comfort that at least I got to carry her for those precious 6 months and at lease I got to hold her after she was born and tell her how much she was loved. But, at the moment (still only 11 months since her death) her memory haunts me every single day of my life.

I can't go anywhere without imaganing myself with 2 little girls. I imagine how old Grace would be and what she would be doing. At Christmas, I imagined the joy that she would have brought the whole family, some meeting Grace for the first time.
At the park, I'll see a mum with 2 little girls.. one Sophie's age and one a few months old and I think 'that should be me'. But it's not because my little baby is dead.

I get asked almost every day "Is Sophie your only child" and I hate the answer, whatever way I choose to respond (The truthful way or the socially polite way). All the mothers in my mothers group or playgroup with kids that are the same age as Sophie have all had baby number two and most have even had baby number three. It kills me. It kills me every day.

I still wonder why this had to happen to us. I sometimes imagine the alternative universe where Grace is alive and how happy I am. And then I sometimes wonder if I will ever be truly happy again. Grief is like a blanket that has been pulled over the entire world.. There are lots of wonderful things but they are all a little less bright than before.

On top of the unbearable pain of grief, the anger, frustration and sheer heartbreak that I feel after almost a year of negative pregnancy tests is really starting to get me down. I know that another baby will never replace Grace, but really, the only thing I want in the world is to have another baby. I have watched almost every single friend I have either fall pregnant or give birth this year. Of course, I am happy for them but it hurts soo much. I just think "why not me?" And I am soo sick of Tom telling me that it will be my turn soon.

I did a pregnancy test this morning. I had a really good feeling about it. I thought it would be so nice to end the year with the best news ever, but it was negative (again) and now I just want to go to bed and hope that this year ends.. quickly.

_________________________________________________

It's funny though, because it's also been a good year (if you take away the grief and frustration). Moving to Perth has been wonderful for us and I am really glad we decided to make the move. I have made soo many wonderful friends in Perth who have all put up with my whinging about not falling pregnant (even when most of them are pregnant themselves), I have loved being close to Tom's family who are all so wonderful and supportive and I really feel at home here.

Sophie has made so many lovely friends, we found an excellent montessori school where she has just thrived and she just loves being close to all her grand-parents and aunties. Tom loves his new job here and has remained the eternal optimist throughout everything.

I guess that I do still have quite a bit to be grateful for. So, after that little rant.. I hope that you all have a wonderful 2012. Thanks for all your support over the last year, especially all your kind words and encouragement. I am really, really looking forward to a new year..

Night everyone x



P.s Tea definitely tastes better in a Kate Spade tea cup

The F word.

I am so friggin sick of seeing this stupid friggin single pink line.
For F sake, what the hell is going on?!

Month after month of disappointment.
It's killing me.

All I want is to be pregnant again.
Having to deal with infertility on top of the pain of losing Grace is unbearable.

Completely unbearable.
(Insert F word here).

Pregnancy loss

This is by far the best book I have read on pregnancy loss.

And believe me, after two miscarriages and a stillbirth.. I have read a lot of books on the subject.
Pregnancy loss is a book that I keep coming back to over and over again. I highly recommend it for anyone who has experienced the tragic loss of a baby.


Grace should be almost 4 months old now. Instead I am staring at her ashes.