Parker's Story: Part 4 - The Birth

This is the 4th Part of the story...to start at Part 1, click HERE.

I was numb. The next few hours are kind of blurry 6 months later, but I remember heading back to Newberg Hospital to check-in...

Dr. Johnson had told me to come back when I was ready, and his colleague Dr. Emmons would induce. I remember Dr. Emmons from earlier in my pregnancy, I had seen her once for an OB visit, and she had less of a lovey-dovey and nurturing bedside manner. I wasn't sure what this experience would be like. John and I took our overnight bag up to the third floor of the office building, and walked through the same double doors that we had been visiting for the past 7 months. The same receptionist checked us in, and when she asked my name this time, I stumbled over the words and told her Dr. Emmons would be inducing us today. A smile spread over her face as she exclaimed, "Congratulations!"

I looked down and stepped back as John continued to check us in. The receptionist looked really confused as she tried to find my name in the schedule. She finally walked away and whispered to another employee and a few seconds later, a very quiet and somber employee named Marissa came out the side door and asked us to come back into one of their conference rooms.

"I'm so sorry for your loss." She said. She was the first of MANY people to say this to us over the next few hours, days, weeks and months. "Dr. Emmons would like you to check-in to the birthing unit. Do you know where that is?" I think she could tell by the look on my face that:

   A. I did not know where is was.
   B. Any directions she gave me would be completely forgotten in the fog that I was in.

"I will just take you there, okay?"

John and I were scheduled to tour the birthing unit on January 16th. It was on my calendar, and I was very excited. Here we are on December 9th though, and we were getting a VIP escort.

The walk from the OB office to the birthing unit was eerily quiet. I'm sure poor Marissa was racking her brain for small talk, but neither of us spoke a word. We got to the entrance to the birthing unit, and she instructed me to pick up the intercom phone, tell them who I was, and say that I was checking in. I wish she would have done it for me, but I reluctantly picked up the phone, waited for an answer, and said, "My name is Sarah Thomas and I'm checking in for an induction."

The woman on the other end said, "Okay, I'll buzz you in."

Marissa gave us a somber goodbye and good luck, and she walked back to her office. As the door clicked open, we walked in. It was so bright in the hallway, and I was even more dazed and aimless as I walked in to find the reception desk. The woman from the intercom phone was sitting behind the desk. I recognized her immediately as a neighbor who I had grown up with across the street. Cindy Burns. She recognized me immediately as well, got up from behind the desk, and yelled, "Sarah! I didn't know it was YOU!" She began crying and I realized that they were ready for me.

The nurses checked us in and led us to the very end of the hallway. We had a birthing room on the corner of the building, furthest away from the reception desk and all of the other rooms. I am so glad that they did that. I remember when we had Hudson, we heard other babies and families celebrating in neighboring rooms. I did not want to hear that this time. I wanted privacy and to just be alone. The next few minutes seemed like an ordinary birthing experience. The nurses explained what was going to happen, got me all prepped in my gown on the bed, and hooked me up to my IV and monitors. The fetal monitor was absent of course.

I remember asking the nurse when we finished getting all settled, "How long do you think all of this will take?"

"Hard to tell," she replied, "It could be a few hours or a few days." Then she smiled and walked out the door.

I turned to John, holding back my tears, and said, "God, I hope this doesn't take DAYS!"

Over the next hour or so, nurses and doctors, and even a social worker came in and out of our room talking to us, explaining things, asking if we had any questions. The mood was so somber and nobody would smile. It was starting to get to me. I felt like the lack of emotion and the "poor you" looks were making it worse. I mentioned to John that the staff needed to "lighten up" and he went right out and told them that. From then on, the nurses smiled at me, made light jokes, and made it feel a little less like my baby had just died. If we were going to have to stay for a while, at least make it less miserable, right?

As the afternoon progressed, the induction got underway. My birth with Hudson was a scheduled cesarean, so I was completely unaware about how all of this stuff worked. They explained that it would be a 3-step process of softening, ripening, and then delivering. Each step was unpredictable, and we would just have to wait and see how long each step took. They asked how I was feeling, and if I needed anything. I said that I was anxious (duh), and that I had heartburn (because, well, I'm still pregnant). The next words the nurse spoke were both crushing and relieving...

"Well Sarah, the bright side of this circumstance is that our entire pharmacy is at your disposal. We want you to be as comfortable as possible." She then fed my IV with some anti-anxiety meds and some acid reducer.

My whole experience was surreal. At times, I forgot why I was there, to deliver a stillborn baby, and at other times, the reality was just overwhelming. I went back and forth between crying uncontrollably, and masking my pain with laughter and jokes. The nurses said more than once that they were amazed by our strength. Together we coined the phrase, "Team Thomas" and it soon became a hashtag... #TeamThomas. Whenever we had to deal with a tough moment, John and I looked at each other and said, "Team Thomas" and that brought us back to a place of strength and determination.

The first stage of this induction was taking a lot longer than we thought. It was now Tuesday night, and nothing had progressed. I was determined to have a natural birth this time, because I remember how "out of it" I was after Hudson's cesarean, and I didn't want to miss out on any time with Parker. I knew that we wouldn't get to be with him long, and I wanted to be totally present in those limited moments. I spoke with Dr. Emmons about the induction, and she asked if I had any questions. There was one question that was weighing on my mind, but I hadn't asked yet..."Earlier in my pregnancy, Dr. Johnson told me that an induction could be dangerous when I have had a previous cesarean. Is that true?"

She shifted in her seat, looked around the room for a second, probably collecting her thoughts, and said, "Sarah, the reason that we don't like to induce after a cesarean is because if your uterus ruptured, it would be very dangerous for the baby. In this case, that is not a concern."

"Oh."

We spent Tuesday night in the hospital, still with no progression. Luckily John was off work with his injury, so he never left my side. My mind went to work many times throughout the ordeal. I know that my job should be the least of my concern at this point, but I couldn't help thinking about my students. I had spent part of the previous day e-mailing and texting my teaching partner and the substitute we had hired for my maternity leave. I kept telling them that as soon as I was "done" I would come in and make some sub plans. I kept thinking that this would be all over soon, and that things would just go back to normal. They kept telling me to take my time and they would take care of things at school. I just felt bad. I felt bad that they had to scramble around to cover my class. I felt bad that my sub, who was so excited to be hired for a 4-month maternity leave was now stuck with a much more temporary position. I felt bad that I wasn't at school to celebrate Christmas with my students. And I felt bad that very soon, in 26 different houses, a very sad and confusing discussion would be taking place between my students and their parents. I just wanted to be in my classroom right now, with my big belly, laughing and counting down the days during our Calendar Time to when Mrs. Thomas would have her baby.

Hudson hung out with his Grandma on Wednesday, and she brought him for a short visit that afternoon. We ordered him a PB&J from the cafeteria and he watched cartoons on the TV in my hospital room. I could tell that he was uncomfortable there, seeing mommy attached to so many wires and tubes, and I was not my usual happy self, even though I was trying really hard to act normal. I asked John's mom if she could take Hudson to his preschool the next day, so he could have some normalcy and see his friends. If my life was going to be destroyed and turned upside down by this, I wanted to keep Hudson's intact. I got to hold him for a moment before he left. He crawled up onto my bed and gave me the huge hug that I needed. At that moment, I realized how lucky I was to have a very healthy and happy young boy. I took for granted how easy his pregnancy and birth was, and how blessed I was to have him. When he left, all I wanted to do was go with him, and to be with that happy, carefree and naïve little boy.

My friends and my family stopped by that day too. My best friend, Mollie came many times to sit with me, keep me strong, and just let me vent and cry and complain to her. She was such a calming presence and just always knew what to say or do to help. She was also a great #TeamThomas advocate. She made sure the nurses were giving me everything I needed, explained all of the medications and procedures that go with an induction (sometimes multiple times because I would forget), and made sure that we had everything covered at home and in the community. She set up a GoFundMe account to raise money to help with house cleaning. My other friend, Lyndsey set up a Meal Train for us, and people all over the community were signing up to bring us meals and support us. Some families from my school were even on the list. It was crazy...even though I was going through the worst time in my life, I was so overwhelmed and humbled that so many people were surrounding our family with love and support. Texts and emails and visits streamed in throughout the day, and it was so nice to not feel alone.

The social worker came back that day. We needed to fill out more paperwork before Parker's birth. We needed to decide what to do with his body after he was born. First thing we needed to decide, was if we wanted an autopsy. The thought of ANYTHING being done to my little baby boy made me sick to my stomach. At the same time, I was desperate for answers as to why he died. If it was something preventable, I wanted to know. We talked through the options with the social worker, and decided that a partial autopsy would be best. Collect some tissue and leave the rest intact. We were also told that there would be no birth certificate. Or death certificate. According to the government, he never existed. No social security number. Nothing. That broke my heart, and made him less real. He had a name, he had a family, he was real! Another decision we had to make was whether we wanted to cremate him or bury him. Ugh...so many decisions that I am having to make in such a short period of time. Less than 24 hours ago, I was still happily unaware that he was gone. I was still pregnant, at work, daydreaming of the future. Now I'm looking at funeral homes, cemeteries, and grief resources. John did some research and found a local funeral home that had some plots in a "Children's Garden". We would bury Parker in Newberg, just a few minutes from our home, among other babies born before or shortly after birth. That brought me a little peace in a day of hard decisions. A little while later, the social worker came in to tell us that the pathologist decided that testing Parker's placenta would be sufficient, and that he did not need to do any tissue extraction from his body. That brought me even more peace.

Wednesday evening came, and still there was no change or progression with my induction. The doctors and nurses kept telling me to give it more time. The idea came up to try a cesarean if we couldn't get things moving, but I was determined to keep trying naturally. The "softening" stage is very painful. The misoprostol that they were applying every 4 hours was one of the most excruciatingly painful experiences of my life. We were entering the second full day of this, and I wanted some relief! Dr. Emmons, bless her heart, was the first to suggest a more aggressive approach to getting things done. I was ready, and I was now so thankful for her no-nonsense bedside manner! By midnight Wednesday night, we had moved on to stage 2 of my induction!

I now had an epidural in my back, and Pitocin flowing through my body. We started out pretty slow with the Pitocin, and the anesthesiologist showed me the button on my epidural drip that would deliver more medication if things got painful. Thursday morning came, and things were finally moving along! Hudson decided that he didn't want to come back and visit me (I don't blame him), but Mollie and my sister did. I was so thankful. Mollie told me about an organization called, Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep, where volunteer photographers came to the hospital to photograph stillborn babies. She had already set it up with the hospital for them to come when Parker was born. I was so nervous for all of this. I have never seen a dead body, and I wasn't sure I wanted to. I chose not to view my mom after she passed away, because I didn't want to remember her in that way. I felt firm in that decision, and I have never regretted it. This was different though, I have never seen Parker alive, and I didn't want to miss that one chance to hold him and see his face. I was pretty certain that I would hold him. I was in the middle of a conversation with my sister and Mollie, when I suddenly fell under intense and unfamiliar pain. I felt like my entire insides were crushing in on itself, and I had no idea what was happening. I was writhing in pain, and could barely even speak. I begged John to get the nurse, because I was sure that I was either dying or Parker was on his way...

My sister and Mollie left the room as the nurses came in. They quickly examined me and let me know that I was not dying and Parker was not coming either. I was having a contraction. Apparently, they had turned the Pitocin up to full strength, and somehow in my fogginess, I did not know that meant I would be getting very strong contractions. They reminded me of my pain button, and told me to use it every 20 minutes. Dr. Emmons came in a few minutes later, and let me know that Parker would probably be born soon. She let me know that because of the epidural and his small size, I might not feel much, and might not even be aware when he begins to come. She wanted to do an ultrasound to check his position. As she wheeled the machine into the room, I turned my head to the opposite side. I had already seen him silently still on the screen 2 days prior, and I did not want to witness it again. I just listened as she informed me that he was breech. "There is nothing we can do at this point." She said. "We will just deliver him breech."

The afternoon quickly moved on, as I happily pressed my epidural every 20 minutes as they suggested. My anxiety grew as the hours passed by, because I knew the moment was imminent. My sister and Mollie left, and I was glad to be alone. Since my pain was so unpredictable and I wasn't sure what to expect, I was happy to just deliver with my husband by my side. John and I were just relaxing in the room when I felt it. Something. I couldn't figure out what it was, but I just "knew".

"John, I think Parker is coming."

John buzzed the nurse, and she came in and checked once again. "Yes! I see his umbilical cord!' She said. Normally, birthing a baby umbilical cord first is not ideal, but as I was told many times, this circumstance was not the norm. "Don't push Sarah, Dr. Emmons is on call and is on her way."

The nurses pulled John aside, and even though I could hear them, tried to quietly prepare him for what to expect. Parker has been dead for probably 4 days. The birthing process will be rough on his body, and he might have some broken bones and bruises. His skin is thin and fragile, so it might be peeling in spots. In other words, it wont be pretty. In what felt like forever, but was probably only a minute or two, Dr. Emmons came in. The overhead spotlight came on, they got me into position, and we began.

After one push, at 8:00 pm on Thursday, December 11th 2014, Parker Joseph Thomas was born.

 

 

No cries, no rushing around, no excited exclamations. Just silence. They wrapped him up and handed him to John and I. He was beautiful. He had his brother's chin (a cleft chin that neither John or I possess), my nose and his daddy's lips. He looked just like his big brother. The nurses were right though, the skin on his hands and feet were peeling, and it looked as if his jaw was dislocated. Despite that, he was the most precious little boy I had ever laid my eyes on, just like his brother. I held him and examined him for as long as they let me. John held him, John's parents came and held him, Mollie came back to hold him and my sister held him too. It was a bittersweet moment for everyone, we were happy to meet him and happy for it all to be over, but devastated at the outcome.


Ron from Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep arrived soon after, and took photos of Parker until way past 10:00 at night. The time went by way too fast, and before I knew it, the nurses were asking us if we wanted to go home or stay the night. I was exhausted, and I wasn't ready to leave the hospital. I wanted to stay and be in Parker's presence for just a little while longer. "I think I want to stay the night." I replied. "Can I hold him again in the morning before I leave?"

The nurses just stood there, looking at each other not knowing what to say. I knew what they were thinking. He died Monday, tomorrow is Friday...and he will need to stay in the morgue all night. He wont be the warm and fleshy baby tomorrow that I was able to hold tonight. They eventually agreed, and I fell fast asleep, looking forward to another few minutes with Parker in the morning.

We woke up bright and early Friday, I took my first shower in 4 days, got dressed and filled out the discharge paperwork. All that was left was to hold my sweet baby one more time. I knew that Parker would not be in the same condition as he was last night, but I needed to say one final and lucid goodbye. John took all of our bags to the car while I got my shoes and coat on. I wanted to be all ready to go when they brought him to me, so that it would be the last thing I did before I left. When John arrived back in the room, we asked to see him.

The nurses carried in a small white box, about the size of a shoe box. Inside was my sweet baby Parker, all wrapped up in a blanket. The nurses told me to take my time, and let them know when I was ready. John and I just stood there, staring at him and bawling. I told Parker that I loved him about a thousand more times, and just stroked the blanket that he was wrapped in. I didn't want to leave, because I knew that I would never see or hold him ever again. This was it. I was no longer pregnant, I was no longer having a baby, I was going to go home empty handed and heavy hearted. John and I held each other and gave Parker one last look, before we left him peacefully sleeping on the bed, and went home.

Parker's Story: Part 3 - Preparing for the Inevitable

This is a multi-part story, if you haven't read the beginning, head to Part One or  Part Two.

"There is no heartbeat."

Those are the words that every mother fears she will hear. I knew going into the doctor that day, that there was a possibility I might hear those words, but I didn't actually think that I would.

For a second I thought that I had imagined it. He really didn't say that. I can see Parker on the screen, he looks just fine. The nurse JUST told me that they heard the heartbeat! He is fine! My mind started racing while my breathing stopped.

Dr. Johnson went on to do some more measurements of Parker. He explained to me that everything was looking normal, and he was measuring at about 27 weeks along, which is what he expected. I remember when he looked at me, he had this really sad and pitiful look on his face. I didn't know it at the time, but this would be the face that all of the medical staff would give me over the next few days. All I could muster to say was, in a shaky voice, "Are you sure?"

"I could get a second opinion if you like. I could have an ultrasound technician come in here."

I looked at my son lying totally still on the ultrasound screen. No hiccupping, no kicking or touching his face, no flickering in his chest.

"No. I know my son. If he was alive, he would be moving."

The rest of the visit in that exam room is really unclear. I remember the doctor giving me lots of information, asking me questions about what to do, and explaining to me what needed to happen next. All I remember clearly is the picture of a yellow flower that was hanging on the wall by the window. I kept staring at it while the doctor droned on in the background.

I was snapped out of my semi-unconscious state when the doctor asked, "When would you like to deliver him?"

I stuttered as I held back tears. "What do people usually do?"

"Well," he replied, "you could check in this afternoon and we can deliver him today. Or you can wait. I wouldn't wait more than two weeks though..." I can't remember the exact words that he used after that, but something about how his body would start going through the death process, and it could make me very sick if he stayed in there too long.

"Okay, I guess we will do it today? What do I do now? Where do I go?" I was really just in shock. I couldn't believe that just a few hours ago I was at work, teaching, pregnant, happy. Now I was about to deliver my baby 3 months early and then it would be all over.

"Is your husband here?" The doctor asked.

"No, he's at home with the relator. We are thinking of selling our house. I told him not to come."

"Would you like us to call him for you?" Dr. Johnson offered.

"No. I live just right down the road. I don't want him to hear this over the phone." CRAP! I told John that I would text him as soon as everything was alright. I'm sure he is going crazy right now. But I can't text him now. I will just have to wait.

At this point, I am dressed and upright. We decided that I will go straight home, gather my things, and check in when I was ready to be induced. Doctor Johnson opened the door of the exam room, and there was a nurse standing ready with a book titled, "When Hello Means Goodbye". A pamphlet for mothers about to give birth to a dead baby. As soon as I saw that, and the same sad pitiful look on her face, I burst into gigantic tears and gave this perfect stranger a hug. Right at that moment, the shock wore off and I realized that all of this was an awful reality that was actually happening. She held my sobbing body for a moment, and then escorted me out the backdoor of the office. None of the other blissfully pregnant women in the waiting room wanted to see a fellow mother sobbing uncontrollably. The nurse walked me down the hall, accompanied me in the elevator to the bottom floor, and silently escorted me outside.

"Are you sure you are okay?" She asked one more time.

"Yeah. I'm just right down the road." I said again. I walked through the parking lot to my car, the same car that we just got fixed after the accident that John was in on his way to our first ultrasound appointment. I drove the exact mile to our house, somehow staying composed enough to see through my tears, and onto our street. The relator's car was still parked in our driveway, so I parked on the curb across from our house. I imagined John inside, smiling and talking about what we might want in our new house. The house we would buy for our TWO kids. Our complete family. I couldn't just walk in, looking like I did and tell my husband the news. I sat in my car, staring at the house for a few minutes before I totally lost it again. I cried so hard that I thought I might pass out. I needed to DO something while I waited, so I dialed my mother in law's phone number. When she answered, I explained through my blubbering that I was sitting in my car, the relator was there, I needed to talk to John, I didn't know what to do...

"What Sarah? I don't understand what you are saying." She managed to get through my incoherent screaming.

I took a deep breath, and managed to get out, "Parker. We lost Parker."

"Oh, Sarah! I'll be right there!" She hung up and was on her way.

After what seemed like an eternity, our relator walked out to his car, got in, backed out, and was gone. I wiped the tears from my face, tried to prepare myself for what I was about to do, and got out of the car. John was waiting for me in the garage, and I don't know what he saw first...the tears that came streaming down my face again or me shaking my head side to side. He wrapped me in a hug and his tears wet my hair. "We have to go have him. Tonight." I told him. We spent a few more minutes in the garage together, while we tried to regain our composure for the completely innocent and unknowing 3-year-old who was sitting inside. I wanted to hold Hudson and hug him forever. I never before realized how lucky I was to have a completely ordinary and healthy little boy to snuggle and hold. Hudson was playing on his iPad as I asked him about his day and smiled at him though my tear stained eyes. I began texting my sister, trying to see if she was free to come over and sit with me. I didn't want to explain over text what was happening, but I needed her at my house right away. John started getting a few things together while I sat with Hudson. Not long after, Johns mom arrived, gave me several much needed hugs, and took my dear sweet boy home with her for an extended sleepover. Now it was just John and I, in an empty house, preparing to meet and say goodbye to our sweet baby. My sister came, and sat with me while I slowly built up my strength to head to the hospital.

As my sister was walking out the door to leave, asking me once more if I needed anything, I remembered that we have a dog that would need cared for as well. I quickly got a cage and some food together and once again, John and I were in an even emptier house. By this point, I had changed into some sweats and a maternity tee, and was ready to head to the hospital.

"Shouldn't you pack an overnight bag? Just in case we stay the night?" John asked.

"Oh yeah." I threw some deodorant, a toothbrush, some contact lenses and a change of clothes into a bag. "I sure hope this doesn't take that long." I said as we headed out the door to the hospital.

Parker's Story: Part 2 - Jujube

This is Part 2 of Parker's Story...if you haven't read Part One yet, click here!

On Tuesday, June 24th, in my master bathroom all alone, I found out that I was pregnant. I was shocked, elated, nervous, scared and everything in between. John had already left for work, and my mind immediately went to how I was going to spill the great news! When I found out that I was pregnant with Hudson, totally unexpectedly, I was so dumbfounded that I just ran into the office and waved the positive pee stick in his face. I wanted this to be a little more special. At first I considered waiting for the weekend, so that we could go out to celebrate and enjoy the news together. But alas, I am far too impatient to wait 4 days to tell him. While I thought about how to tell my husband...I told my two best friends. John, if you are reading this, I'm sorry but Mollie and Lyndsay knew before you. Lyndsay was also pregnant, and she was due about a month before me! I later found out that two more friends from my moms group, John's best friend, and Hudson's preschool teacher were also due within a month. This was going to be AWESOME!! I would have all of these women to go through my pregnancy with, and our baby would instantly have a ton of playmates! By that evening, I had decided how I would tell John, but it would have to wait until the next morning...

We both woke up just like any regular morning. Took showers, got dressed, ate a quick breakfast, and woke Hudson up for the day. I was on summer vacation, so it was a little more leisurely than normal. While John was busy getting ready for work, I slipped the positive pregnancy test out of its hiding spot and snuck into Hudson's empty room. I made the bed and laid out a pair of jeans and a t-shirt that had been hiding in the closet. The t-shirt said, "Super Awesome Brother" and I had bought it a few weeks before in preparation for this day. Then I carefully slid the pregnancy test into the right front pocket of the jeans and scurried out as if nothing had happened. Then ever so calmly, I asked John, "Hey, would you go get Hudson dressed?" Of course he had to be a little sarcastic and reply, "Are you sure you trust me to pick out his clothes?!" to which I replied, "They are lying on his bed, just put them on." Secretly I followed him into Hudson's room with my cellphone video recorder on. I watched him head over to Hudson's bed, call him into his room while he looked over the clothes, pulled the pregnancy test out of the pocket, examined it, and spun around yelling, "Really?!" It was so awesome! I couldn't have asked for a better moment! Of course, John still had to go to work, and Hudson still had to go to preschool so we didn't get to celebrate, but it was an amazing moment.

That weekend was Hudson's 3rd birthday party at Home Depot. Our secret was still ours, except for my two friends, and we were debating who and when we would tell next. Alas, once again, I have a really hard time keeping things to myself, so I told my step-father in front of my sister and my aunt, that he might have a "birthday buddy" coming in March! It took him a second to figure out what I was hinting at, but of course they were all so excited! At this point, I was barely even a few weeks along however, so it was all still so new and precarious. It felt weird to be telling people so soon, but I am an eternal optimist, so I didn't care.

I don't know when or how, but John and I nicknamed the baby, "Jujube". Since we didn't know if it was a boy or a girl, we just went with that cute moniker and it stuck. We lived in bliss for about a week, daydreaming about Jujube and beginning to plan every second of his/her future. On Wednesday, July 2nd I was woken up in the early morning hours by intense abdominal cramps. To anyone who is newly pregnant, and only about a month along, those can only signal one thing. I immediately rushed into the bathroom to check for bleeding, and found none. I tried so hard to fall back asleep, but the cramps continued. I think I got up about every five minutes for the rest of the morning to make sure everything was still okay. By the time John woke up a few hours later, I was in tears. I told him that I thought we were losing the baby, and there was no way that this was going to have a positive outcome. He tried to assure me to stay positive, but the painful cramps were a constant reminder that something bad was probably happening. Luckily Hudson had preschool again this day, so it gave me some time to be by myself and think. I texted my two best friends while I aimlessly wondered around Kohl's and told them the bad news. I questioned them both about what this could mean, and asked them if they thought everything would be okay. They told me to call my OB, and I did. They reassured me that cramping was normal, and as long as I wasn't bleeding, everything "should" be okay. I did not like the word, "should".

I decided to buy Jujube an outfit. It took me about an hour to pick it out, but I settled on a pale blue romper with a yellow bow on it. It was from the girl's section, but I had a sinking feeling Jujube was going to be a girl. I took the outfit home and hung it on the lamp in my room. It was my lucky-charm to keep Jujube safe. I also found an image of Jujubes on Google and made it the homescreen on my phone. I hoped that looking at it a million times a day would be good vibes too. To this day, I still have that as my homescreen. I prayed, I cried, and I called the OB again. They again, told me to just wait it out. They said that sometimes second pregnancies can be even more scary than the first, because you experience new and different symptoms, and assume they are not normal. So I waited, and prayed, and waited some more. That night I fell asleep with what was now on-and-off pain, and by morning, all evidence of the cramps were gone.

It was still too early in the pregnancy to officially declare everything was okay, but I did have a surplus of Dollar Tree pregnancy tests, so I took one every few days to make sure they remained strong. I went in for a 5-week appointment with my OB to check my blood and everything looked fine. They wanted to set me up with an 8-week ultrasound, and asked, "How does August 1st sound to you?" Well, that was my 30th Birthday! I mentioned this to them, and they asked me if I wanted a different day. "Nope, just make sure it's good news!" I said.

I made the appointment as early as I could on the 1st, because as you know by now, I am terrible at waiting. John already had the day off since it was my birthday, and my best friend Justine had flown in from Las Vegas to spend the weekend with us. John and I went to the ultrasound together that morning, while Justine looked after Hudson at home. I laid down on the table, nervous as can be, while she squirted that familiar warm gel on my belly. As soon as she placed the wand, we saw our little Jujube dancing around. It was a super brief appointment, and we got a few printed images at the end. All that was important was that he/she was healthy! The actual appointment with the doctor was going to be a little while longer, and this was the first time we were going to meet him, since Hudson's doctor had retired. John decided to run home and grab something to eat, and then meet me back at the hospital for the appointment. I waited forever, and finally got called back. I texted John with which room I was in, and he didn't respond. The doctor came in, and John still wasn't there. I was actually getting kind of upset, when I finally got a text. He had gotten into a car accident on the way back to meet me! Our brand new SUV was all smashed up about a half mile away. Ugh. It was my birthday, I just got the great news that my baby is doing well, but now my husband was in an accident in our brand new car. He was okay, and dealt with the police and insurance, and was able to meet me at the very end of the appointment. We wanted to focus on this amazing news, and deal with the car later.

When we got home, we were eager to make our healthy baby's announcement public. I took a picture of Hudson wearing his shirt, and cropped it in with a photo of the ultrasound and "Coming in March 2015" graphic. By that afternoon, our pregnancy was Facebook public! Hudson also wore the shirt at my birthday party the next day, and now everyone knew that baby #2 was on the way!

A few weeks later, at about 12 weeks along, we went in for our NT Scan. Its an optional blood test and ultrasound that checks for birth defects and abnormalities. Of course, these things are always nerve-wracking, but I hoped for the best and was looking forward to another opportunity to see my little Jujube on the screen. Everything checked out, and baby was given a clean bill of health...whew! First trimester over, and everything looks great! This is the point where most parents relax and enjoy what is going to be a perfectly healthy pregnancy.

In late August, I went back to work to teach a Kindergarten Readiness program to get our future Kindergarteners ready for the school year. Not only was I nervous to go back to work, but I was terrified to tell my boss that I was expecting. As you remember from my last post, I worked very hard to get to where I was at in my career, and I took pride in being the reliable and dependable employee I was known as. Of course, I knew that taking a maternity leave was well within my rights, I still struggled with the burden and inconvenience this would place on my school and the staff. The announcement went well, and of course everyone was excited for me, and now I just needed to worry about finding my replacement.

As the school year began, I kept my pregnancy from my students that their parents. I wanted my anxious little Kindergarteners to enjoy their first few weeks of school before I sprung the news on them that I would be leaving. By early October, at 4 months along, I couldn't hide it anymore and sent a letter home to parents. I would finish out the month of February and then take March-June off. Around this same time, I was also scheduling my 20-week anatomy ultrasound. This one is an important one, because I get to find out the GENDER!! I wasn't worried anymore about health issues, since we had the all-clear at the other two scans. When the receptionist at the front desk of my OB's office suggested October 21st, the date struck me as important, but it didn't dawn on me why while I was standing at the desk. Once I got home, however, I remembered why that date stuck out. It was the 3rd anniversary of my mother's sudden death. I considered rescheduling, but then I decided that what better way to honor my mom than to find out the gender of her newest grandbaby?

My sister was going to join us at the ultrasound (my mom went with us to Hudson's), and she would keep the gender a secret from us until later that day. We would all go up to my step-father's house that evening for dinner, and they would rig an explosive to shoot blue or pink chalk, depending on what was inside my sister's envelope. I was so excited to do this, and I thought finding out all together would be a lot of fun! John was unsure about whether he should take the whole day off, but I insisted that he did, in the rare chance that we get bad news at the scan. He agreed.

The morning of the appointment, my sister met us at the hospital and accompanied us into the ultrasound room. She sat watching the screen alongside us as the technician checked all of Jujube's organs. When she came to the baby's bottom half, she had John and I cover our eyes as she looked for the gender. Once she was done, she gave us the all-clear to open our eyes again. She spent a lot more time hovering over the baby's abdomen. She kept looking at the same spot, and was pressing really hard against my belly. I don't remember ever having a technician press that hard before, so I just knew something was not right. She had me turn, wiggle, empty my bladder, wiggle some more, but she couldn't get the image she was looking for. She then told us that she couldn't find the baby's right kidney. She called in the OB on duty, who was not our doctor, to take a look. At this point, I was shivering from nervousness. What do you mean you can't find the kidney?

The OB sat us down after the ultrasound and let us know that we needed to see a specialist the following week. There was a chance that our baby was missing a kidney, and they wanted to get a better ultrasound to make sure. She assured us that even if the baby only had one kidney, it would live a long and healthy life, and to not be worried. Of course I spent the rest of the day on Google trying to learn all that I could about living with one kidney. That night, we were trying to celebrate the baby, but all I could think about was the missing kidney. The big moment arrived where we were going to shoot the explosive to release the chalk, and I was still so consumed with sadness, that I hardly even remember seeing the blue rise in the air. For a second, I got even sadder. I was secretly hoping for a girl, and I was experiencing a little disappointment at the thought of another boy. That moment of disappointment still haunts me today. I should have just been over the moon to be having another baby. I shouldn't have been worrying about the possible lack of a kidney. I should have just been enjoying the moment and rejoicing in my happy little baby in my belly.

We were having another boy. We decided on the name Parker. We liked the name because it fit well with Hudson's. They are both easy to spell and pronounce, are common enough to be recognizable, but are not too popular. Now we just needed to decide on a middle name. While we tried to focus on the excitement of picking a name, we were also waiting to see the specialist about Parker's missing kidney. I barely held it together while we waited the week to find out. The perinatologist spent 90 minutes examining baby Parker, and while she was still not able to get a clear image of his right kidney, she did see clear blood flow to the area and what she was pretty confident was the kidney. We were out of the woods. Our baby boy was once again a completely healthy little guy, and we began to let our guard down once again.

I was now about 22 weeks along, and the next hurdle was the glucose test to rule out gestational

diabetes. I was having a pretty healthy pregnancy so far, had barely gained any weight, and was feeling great! I passed my glucose test with Hudson with flying colors, so I was not worried in the least about this one. I arrived at my blood draw exactly one hour after drinking that awful glucola, and sat down to get poked. I have notoriously tiny veins just like my mom, so blood tests are not fun. I closed my eyes as she dug around in my arm. "Well, I can't get anything from this arm, lets try the other one" the phlebotomist said. So while she tied off my other arm with the rubber tourniquet, I closed my eyes and braced for another poke. Once again, my veins failed to produce any blood. At this point, the window of time is ticking away for them to get an accurate blood sugar sample, so she raced out to get a more skilled nurse. The third poke was successful, and they sent me home with a "good luck" to pass. I did NOT want to "fail" and have to do the 3-hour test, where they poke you 4 times over a 3.5 hour span.

Lucky me, I failed. My blood sugar was too high, and I needed to return to the hospital for the longer test. So, two days before Thanksgiving, I sat in the hospital waiting room between 7am-11:15am getting poked and reading "Parenting With Love & Logic". I left the hospital hoping that after all of that torture, that I would pass and be free from worry. I passed.

Back at school, my belly was getting bigger, and my kids were getting excited. After interviewing a few candidates for my long-term sub, we chose a young teacher that would take over in March and finish out the year. The kids already knew her and loved her, and it would be an awesome transition. This took a lot of stress off of me, knowing that everything was falling into place, and now I just needed to make it to my due date.

Early December came and it was time for parent-teacher conferences. My long term sub volunteered her time to sit in on all of the conferences, and I was able to introduce her to all of the parents. It was a great opportunity for her to get acquainted with the class, and I even had some time to show her some of my routines. It was a long two days, but we made it! The next day, Saturday, John and I took Hudson on a Christmas train ride with his family. It was our second year taking the train, and it was so much fun being with all of the family and celebrating the season. I love Christmas, and everything holiday. Hudson got to go to Grandma's house the next day and make a gingerbread house. My belly was getting so big, I kept knocking into his chair. Parker was going crazy this day. I remember telling John that I had never felt him be so active. That evening, I laid on the couch, watching TV and feeling my little man doing somersaults in my belly. I was warm, and happy and in love.

The next day was Monday, December 8th. It was a normal day, I was busy at work, and came home to Hudson and John feeling absolutely ordinary. I can't remember exactly when, but at some point that afternoon I realized that Parker had not moved at all that day. I think I don't remember that moment very well because I didn't think anything of it. I had been so busy, and hadn't really paid much attention. Plus, I was 27 weeks now, almost to the 3rd trimester, and maybe little Parker was getting too big to move around now. I promised myself that when I sat down that evening, I would focus on trying to feel him move. It wasn't until Tuesday morning that I realized that he still hadn't moved.

I crept downstairs at 5:45 in the morning, and tried some of the things my doctor had said to try if you ever need to get the baby to move. I drank a glass of iced tea and sugary lemonade. I laid completely still in the dark living room and focused every cell in my body on my belly. I silently begged little Parker to move. After a few minutes, when I still hadn't felt anything, I went and got my cheap home Doppler. I squirted some lotion on my belly and listened. I heard nothing, but that wasn't unusual with that stupid thing. By now, I really needed to start getting ready for work, or I was going to be late. I convinced myself that I wouldn't worry about it, and I would just continue to try and feel him move while I was at work.

That was the longest workday of my life. When my students left at 10:45, I still hadn't felt him move. I decided that I would call my OB and ask to be seen. I was waiting on hold when my teaching partner walked in, and I didn't really feel like finishing the call in front of her. At this point, I had freaked out over so many stupid things, I didn't want anyone making fun of how nervous and obsessive I was. I made an excuse to leave early, and went to go pick up Hudson. I mentioned to his very pregnant teacher, that Parker hadn't been moving, and she wished me the best.

When I got home, I finished my call to the OB. I spoke with an advice nurse who told me, while 27 weeks was very early to be checking for movements, they would like to do a non-stress test and monitor his heartbeat for a while. She assured me that everything was going to be fine. John was at home, and was waiting on our relator to come over. We were considering putting our house up for sale, and wanted to find out what it was worth. John offered to reschedule the appointment and go with me, but I assured him that I would be fine, Parker was fine, and that I would text him as soon as I knew he was okay.

I arrived at the doctors office at about 12:30 in the afternoon. I was nervous and sweating, but I kept telling myself that everything was going to be fine. The nurse called me back, and she looked very familiar. It wasn't until we were in the exam room, and she was listening to my belly with the Doppler, that I realized we used to work together many years earlier. We reminisced over people who we both remembered, and I brought up one of our old coworkers who lost her twins late in her pregnancy. We both commented on how sad that was, and then focused on trying to find Parker's little heartbeat. The nurse had warned me that it might take a while to find the heartbeat, so I tried to be patient. She confirmed that she DID hear the heartbeat, but could not get the monitors to stay on it. After a while, another nurse came in and took over. She brought in a better Doppler, and once again, confirmed that there WAS a heartbeat, but she could not get the monitor to stay on it either. At this point, I felt so bad that I was wasting their time. Now I knew that there was a heartbeat, and that's all I needed to calm my nerves. She decided that she wanted the OB to come in with a portable ultrasound machine to see where the baby was positioned so that they could get a better heartbeat reading. While she was out, I went to go text John, but I realized that my phone was across the room. I would text him after we were done.

The doctor came in with the portable ultrasound, and the first thing I said was, "I'm so sorry for all of this trouble."  He put that same warm gel on my belly and began to look around. He spent a lot of time measuring Parker's head. He then asked, while still focusing on the screen, "Now when did you last feel baby move?" I replied, "Sunday." He got quiet, stoically looking at the silent screen. Then he looked at me, took a deep breath, and said,

"I don't see the heartbeat, Sarah."

Parkers Story: Part One - The Preface

I'm going to write Parker's story in three parts, because there is just so much to his story, and it's too much to write in just one day. I will begin with what I call "The Preface" because it is all about what led up to my pregnancy with Parker, and for just how long and how badly I wanted him.

Parker's story begins on July 6th, 2007. The day I met my husband, John. It was our first date and it was love at first sight. We were alike in so many ways, and complimentary to each other in the ways we were different. 9 months later in April of 2008, we were engaged, and in October of 2009 we were married.

One of the ways that John and I are so alike, is that we were both born to be parents. I have always had two dreams in life, to be a teacher and a mom. About the time we were married in the Fall of 2009, I graduated with my Masters Degree in Teaching and was so excited to start my career and my family. John and I enjoyed our first year of marriage together, I was actively pursuing a job teaching, and substitute teaching in the meantime. We made a goal to start our marriage debt free, so we both worked our tail feathers off to achieve that goal. As we approached our first anniversary together, we decided that we had sacrificed so much that year, including forgoing a honeymoon, that we would celebrate by going to Disneyland for our anniversary.

Starting our family was also on our minds, and we decided that since I hadn't found a long-term job yet, that we would just take advantage of my flexible subbing schedule and let God take control. We went to Disneyland and had a BLAST together! The whole time we were there we were talking and dreaming about our future family, and excited about our future. Little did we know, things were already in the works. The day after we returned from our vacation, on October 12th, 2010, I found out I was pregnant with Parker's older brother, Hudson.

I continued to substitute for the 2010-2011 school year while I was pregnant with Hudson. I became the regular substitute for a Kindergarten class in Sherwood, and I fell in love with that grade level. John and I moved from our apartment into a bigger rental house, and bought our first new reliable car for our upcoming arrival. On June 23rd, 2011, Hudson Robert Thomas was born. Being a parent was awesome, but also so much more challenging than I ever imagined. I loved being a mommy more than anything in the whole world. but teaching was also a big part of my life. I needed to learn how to balance the importance of being a mom, but also my passion to be a teacher.

My priorities got a little nudge on October 21st, 2011. When Hudson was barely 4 months old, I lost my mom suddenly and unexpectedly. Losing her was the biggest shock of my entire life, and really made me take a step back and cherish my family and those close to me. My beautiful little boy became my entire world, and I lived to be his mommy. Life is so precious, and I didn't want to miss a minute with him. I started wondering if I wanted to give up my dream of teaching for a while, and focus on my family. I continued to substitute teach during the 2011-2012 school year, but my desire to be at home, and the constant stress of juggling changing schedules on a daily basis, was really weighing me down.

 Over the summer of 2012, when Hudson turned one, John and I started talking about what our next step was going to be. Would I continue to substitute teach? I liked the flexibility, but I didn't like the inconsistent schedule and paychecks. Would I stay at home? I'm not sure we could afford it. Would I look for a career in a different field? That scared me to death, what else am I even good at? In the fall of 2012, when I hadn't secured a teaching job for that school year, John and I decided that I would start looking at careers in a different field. We wanted to have another child, but we didn't think we could afford it until I had a steady paycheck. I started putting in applications for college admissions representatives, online teachers and civil service careers. I continued to substitute while I explored my options.

Then, in December of 2012, when Hudson was about 18 months old, I learned about an opening teaching half-day Kindergarten with the teacher I had been subbing for over the last 2 years. This position was PERFECT, as it allowed me to teach while also giving me a great schedule for being at home with my family as well. I was thrilled when I was chosen for the position, and finished out the 2012-2013 school year as a temporary teacher.

When school got out in June, and Hudson turned 2, John and I revisited our desire to have another child. I was so torn though, because the school had just informed me that I would be returning in the fall for a permanent position. I wanted so badly to be a mom again, and Hudson was getting older, but I didn't want to jeopardize the career that was just beginning. I really wanted to wait until I had put in a little more time in my position before taking a maternity leave. I knew I would want to focus a lot of time and energy on a new baby, and I didn't want to have to feel conflicted between work and family.

All of the moms who were in my moms group, women who had babies the same age as Hudson, were all having their second and third children, and I couldn't wait for that to be me. As the 2013-2014 school year ended, and Hudson neared his 3rd birthday, John and I decided the time was right. We decided that we would try for a "Spring Baby" so that I could take the last term off of school in 2015, and then have my summer vacation as well. It would be an ideal time to take a maternity leave, and I would maximize my time at home with the new baby. Since Hudson's pregnancy happened so fast, we figured that getting pregnant again would be just as easy. I was so excited to officially start trying again, and started planning and dreaming for our newest addition.

In May of 2014, the day finally came for me to take my first pregnancy test, and I was SURE I was pregnant...We had been building up to this day for 3 years, and I was READY!! When the test came back negative, I began to cry. I know that no baby even existed, but I felt like I had just suffered a loss. Now I would have to wait another month, or longer, for my dream to be a reality.

The following June was Hudson's 3rd birthday. We scheduled a 3-day trip to the coast and had lots of exciting things planned for the weekend. My favorite surprise for Hudson was a train ride I had scheduled for us on an old steam engine along the coast. Our first day at the coast was perfect, we ate lunch, played on the beach, and walked around downtown. We snuggled up that night in front of Disney movies and fell asleep. The next morning, as we were getting ready for our train ride, Hudson got sick. I started panicking because I was so excited to take him on the train ride, and was hoping that he just ate something bad, and would feel better. But then he got sick again. And again. I was bawling as we packed up our things in a hurry, and started the long drive home with a vomiting little birthday boy in the backseat. Our weekend was ruined, my poor baby is sick, and he didn't get to go on the train ride I had planned for him. We got home a few hours later, and helped Hudson through a feverish and uncomfortable night. The following morning, June 23rd, was his actual birthday. He spent it at home in bed while I went to a funeral for my step-grandmother, who had recently passed away. It was another awful day, and a terrible start to our summer.

When I woke up Tuesday, I knew that it was time to take another pregnancy test, but my heart told me that it would be another negative. My luck seemed to be down lately, and I wasn't "feeling" pregnant, but I took the test anyway.

Imagine my shock when it came back positive...

A Pack of Lifesavers

I knew Kaylin from Grad School. We were part of a small "clique" that formed in our cohort of future teachers. We made a tradition of grabbing a cocktail and some appetizers before our 6:00 Monday night class at the local Christian University (ironic, I know). When graduation day came, and we all got our diplomas and were sent naively into the shark infested waters of the teaching profession hiring pool, we remained close. After 18 months passed, and no teaching job in sight, I did the natural thing that 20-something married women do...and got pregnant. When I happened to mention that I was thinking about getting a part time job at a baby boutique, she showed an unnatural interest in their hiring status. I knew immediately that she had the same "condition" that I did. When both of us showed up to our next happy hour meet-up, and neither of us drank, the third member of our party caught on and it became official...we were joining another club together...the MOMMY CLUB!

We had fun doing the pregnant thing simultaneously, both of us found out we were having boys! She delivered first, in April, and I followed about 8 weeks behind, in June. While I was going through the binder that my delivering hospital gave me, all about how to bathe baby, burp baby, and diaper baby, I came across an invitation to their "Baby and Me" group. I remember a vision of uptight, yoga pants-wearing, and baby-obsessed women sitting around and talking about REALLY boring and mundane stay-at-home mommy issues. I was not interested. I was cool. And hip. And I did not need a group of boring women to "bond" with...blech.

After about 3 weeks though, when my husband went back to work-and I was alone, and bored-Kaylin mentioned to me that she had been going to this very same mommy group, and it was kind of cool! What the heck, I have nothing better to do on Tuesday at 2:00, I'll go! (At least to see Kaylin, and let our adorable babies "play" together!) It actually was, more or less, what I expected...a group of women, sitting in a circle, wearing yoga pants and bonding. I was kind of shy, but the moment the facilitator asked me to share about my birth story, and the AMAZING little man I had brought into the world, I was hooked. Of course I love talking about Hudson. He's perfect, and amazing, and AWESOME!! What happened next surprised me. Moms were sharing how they were having difficulty nursing (like me), and sleeping (like me), and getting along with their husbands (like me)! I started feeling better about all of my own insecurities and struggles. I found a new group of ladies that were having exactly the same experiences as me! Over the next few weeks, I kept finding myself back there every Tuesday. Not only because it was an awesome opportunity to talk through the constantly changing issues that were facing me about motherhood, but also because it was a great excuse to shower, get dressed, and leave the house. It was always a safe environment where I could go and do whatever my newborn needed me to do, while making some new friends and venting my frustrations with being a new mom. I reconnected with another mom who I (and John) had befriended during our birthing class a few months back! She and I got to know each other even more, and became really close.

There was another mom, who 3 months after having her daughter, found out she was pregnant again...WHAT?!? (I still think she is the only person I know who could have pulled that off) Another mom who had a son a mere one day younger than Hudson, but as of today, dwarfs him by at least a foot! Another mom who had even more nursing issues than I did, and always had a boppy connected to her during group. And so many others with stories so different, yet so similar, to mine. To top it off, we gained a new and regular facilitator who started each gathering with 3 questions: What is one thing that is going well, what is one thing that is not, and then a question that was totally NOT related to motherhood, to make us feel human. It was so awesome getting to know everyone, getting help from other moms who had tried different things, and to just have a place where I belonged! These gals were a great addition to the support system I had at home.

Then, everything fell apart. One minute I was holding my precious 3-month-old baby in my arms, thinking about mundane things like sleep, feedings, and diapers, and the next minute I am finding out my biggest support, my mom, is gone. Suddenly. Unexpectedly. So totally unfair. With all of the changes, and uncertainties, and conflicting ideas and opinions that come with motherhood, she was my constant. My tie breaker. My sounding board and focus group. I couldn't think straight, or breathe, or even be remotely normal. The only thing keeping me grounded and moving forward was my son. He NEEDED me! I didn't want this poor little guy to know that his mommy was falling apart. Friday I dealt with the shock of my mom's passing, Saturday I went to the funeral home to make arrangements, Sunday I went to church...by Tuesday, I needed a break from the sadness. It was the Halloween Dress-Up Party at Baby and Me. A bunch of infants dressed up in costumes?? Yes PLEASE! I bought my sister, but didn't say a word to anyone. I know how awkward it is to tell someone that you are grieving...unless they knew the person that you lost, or have gone through it themselves, they really don't know what to say. So I just kept to myself, tried not to cry, and enjoyed the afternoon. The rest of the week was spent, again, dealing with the logistics of losing my mom, we had her funeral the following Saturday, and I was back at group the next week. This time we were upstairs, next to the cafeteria (I remember these details vividly) and I finally told my new group of friends. We were talking about what was challenging that week, and I told them. It's hard to deal with the mundane little trivial issues of motherhood when you are grieving so hard. They were so supportive, but I don't think that anyone understood how much I was hurting.

So many things were happening at once. I lost my mom, and was devastated. I was dealing with a lack of sleep, a screaming infant all day, my once perfect relationship with my husband was strained because of our new roles, we were struggling financially with my time off, I was dealing with the challenges of juggling an on-call job with daycare for an infant, my house was a disaster, I felt like crap all the time...the world felt like it was caving in on me. I could barely get through each day without just bawling and begging God to give me a BREAK!! My emotions and frustration were so palpable, I felt like I was going to explode all the time. At the height of my struggles, I burst into tears at group, told my friends that I was coming to terms with a life that would never be happy, and I was just feeling so defeated.

Then things started coming together. Day by day, I started trusting MYSELF. I was my new sounding board and tie breaker. Even though my friends weren't sharing ALL of my struggles, they were goin g through most of it with me. The mommyhood stuff. We started getting the babies together for playdates, Mom's Nights Out, and a message board for everything human. They partially filled a void left by my mother. I felt comfortable sharing with them all of the things I was going through.

As the next few years went by, every time I heard that a friend was pregnant for the first time, I was immediately excited for the journey they were about to embark on. As soon as the baby came, I would rally around them, telling them of course about the wonderful group I was a part of and inviting them to join...and then part of me was sad for them. The sight or thought of having a new baby put a nasty feeling in my stomach and reminded me of everything I went through those first few months. Each time however, I was surprised about how well my friends were doing, in comparison to how hard it was for me. I didn't understand why motherhood was so much harder on me.

I finally put the pieces together a few weeks ago. When I was seeing a counselor after my mom passed, she mentioned that I was moderately depressed. (I never did tell my pediatrician about what was going on). I didn't believe her, because I viewed depression as suicidal, and I viewed post-partum depression as wanting to harm your baby. Neither of those thoughts ever crossed my mind. But now I realize, I was depressed. Too many changes were happening at once, and I never admitted that it was more than I could handle. But what I do know, is that had it not been for that group of ladies, and their ADORABLE babies, and the friendship, and the camaraderie, and the support...things would have been MUCH worse. I don't know what I would have done to cope with everything that was happening and my search for a new identity.

Thank you to the ladies of BAM, and thank you to Elizabeth for bringing us together. I cannot express the priceless value I place on you guys and your support. And as each one of us faces our own challenges and hardships in years to come, I hope that we can all continue to support each other and provide one another with friendship and love :)

1 year later...

As I approach the 1-year mark of my mom's passing, a whole bunch of new emotions are flooding in. I vividly remember that day...and I haven't been able to shake those moments lately. It was Friday morning, October 21st, and I had just finished rocking my little 3-month-old son to sleep for the umteeth time. As I lay there awake in bed, staring at the ceiling in the early morning hours my phone rang. As I picked up the phone to answer it, I noticed that it was 4:10 am and wondered who was calling so early. The number on the caller ID said "Mom" so I knew it must be important. I was surprised to hear my step-dad's voice on the other end, but I can't even put on name on the feeling I had when I heard what he said, "Your mom passed away this morning." My brain just couldn't process it. I had just spoken to here right before bed the night before, just few hours ago! It was so silly too...just sent her a picture of Hudson's high chair and she told me that she couldn't wait for him to start eating solid foods! You would think your last conversation with someone would be more meaningful, but that was it. After I got off the phone, I just remember screaming, "What do I do!?" I really didn't know what people were supposed to do when they receive that kind of news. It was so early so I couldn't call anyone, and I wasn't sure if I just stay at home, was there a hospital I could go to? Should I go over to her house?! I mean, there has to be SOMETHING I can do to make this better! I just paced up and down the halls, nauseous and screaming and crying. The only thing that I could think of to do was go grab my sweet boy and rock him and hug him while I just cried.

The rest of the day was such a blur. People came over and everyone talked and cried and made phone calls. When Hudson was awake, I had to pretend to be happy and normal. I sang him his favorite song, "You are my Sunshine", but I couldn't get through it without bursting into tears. For months after, every time I got to the lines, "You'll never know dear, how much I love you, please don't take my sunshine away" I would tear up. But I had to stay strong for Hudson and the rest of my family. I became the positive one and tried to make everyone else feel better. It helped me too I suppose, pretending like everything was okay. Eventually I started believing it myself. Unfortunately, the worst thing about losing someone so unexpectedly, is the constant reminders of unfinished business.

I had made my mom a birthday card with a picture of Hudson saying, "Happy Birthday Nana!" It was saved on my phone and ready to send out in a few weeks. When her birthday approached, I had to cancel that card. At Christmas, she had bought him some early gifts which he got to open, but he has since grown out of those toys and clothes, with nothing to replace them with. Mother's Day came around, and for the first time in my life, I really could really appreciate her on that day, since I was now a mom myself, but it was a constant reminder all day that I couldn't call her and tell her, "thank you." Hudson celebrated his first birthday in June and it killed me that she wasn't there. My birthday came and went, and I really missed our tradition of shopping together and getting new "school" clothes. And now, here we are, ready to embark an yet another year of being without her. My last day with my mom was the best kind of day you could have with someone. We enjoyed hay rides, finding the perfect pumpkins, eating kettle corn, taking pictures, and talking about the future with little baby Hudson. I so badly wanted to recreate that day with my family this year, but the rain is really putting a damper on things, and that is making me very sad. I also am having a hard time saying goodbye to the house that she and I put so much work into to make it a home. She was so excited for us to move into that rental, and she was there every day helping us paint, scrub floors, plant flowers, clean, and set everything up. She is in that house still. She is still sitting in the corner by the fireplace snuggling Hudson while I take a much needed nap. She is still in the backyard pulling weeds and telling me what each perennial will look like in the spring. She is still sitting on the couch eating pizza and sending pictures to everyone of her dinner date with Hudson. I don't want to leave those memories behind. I don't want anyone to paint over those walls, or pull out those plants, or put in new furniture. And I don't know how to bring her into this new house, how to have memories of her here.

It's just been a rough year, and although I have so many things to be thankful and grateful for, I just am still so lost without her here. The more time that passes, and the more changes that happen in my life, the farther I feel from her. I just wish she were here to help me thorough the hard times and celebrate the good ones too!

Balance

I am a firm believer that the universe, and God, try to keep a balance with things. Kind of like in science class, where we learned that "for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction," in life to I believe there is some form of balance. I don't think that there is any one person on earth that has all bad luck, nor is there someone that leads a perfect life. Granted, there are individuals who are certainly handed a more difficult situation, it is more about what you make of it. I have met some pretty incredible people who have had to deal with some pretty lousy stuff, but they don't let it ruin them. I have also met some people that run into difficult circumstances and they become the most rotten and self depreciating versions of themselves. It baffles me how two people handle the same set back in two totally different ways...or even more surprising is when someone getting cut off in traffic can ruin someone's day, yet there is someone else out there with some really huge hurdles to face, but is keeping a great attitude.

I'm not sure if this last really crummy year will turn around for me soon, of if this is the universe's way of balancing out a pretty charmed life so far. Either way, I really enjoy keeping a positive outlook on the future and what great possibilities lie ahead. I really do enjoy the daily reminders that even though in my small little chunk of the world, things seem really insurmountable, that I really am quite lucky to have what I have. I see other moms dealing with babies with special needs, and I kiss my healthy little boy. I see women out there with what seems like the perfect life, yet is dealing with a troubled marriage. And then I see super successful career women, yet they never see their families. It puts everything in perspective. Makes me feel silly for focusing on such trivial things.

The doctors at OHSU said that according to my 14-page questionnaire, I am "moderately depressed." I think that they are terribly misinformed. Anyone who knows me would never put the two words "Sarah" and "depressed" in the same sentence. I can't stand being melancholy over something I can't control. What is the point of ruining today if you can't change yesterday and you have no idea what tomorrow will bring? I don't want to waste my time on being sad or sorry for myself! I have a great life and things will get better :)