The Hardest Decisions

{Posting this warning once again!}

 This will be an extremely difficult post to write, and I will be openly talking about what we went through, and what we did, that was right for us. 

In sharing this, I hope to help others in this position. 

This circumstance is rarely ever talked about, and trying to find answers of the "right thing to do" is extremely difficult. 

In the end, we did what seemed like the best decision for us. While it may not have been yours, it wasn't yours to make. If you've never been in this position, you'd never know what making these decisions feels like, and if you have had to make these decisions, then you know how extremely difficult it is to find the right ones. 

So, before I go on, I kindly ask that you keep any negative comments, or judgements to yourself, as they are not welcome here.

The day after we lost our baby, we knew we had to figure out what we wanted to do with the baby's remains. We had never been in this position with our previous miscarriages, so going over our options was extremely difficult. Deciding what was best for us was even more difficult.

Not knowing what to do, or what our options were, I turned to the only source I knew of that might provide answers - Google. I vividly remember my hands shaking as I typed in the words; What a gut wrenching feeling. 

I searched for what seemed like hours. I discovered that majority of hospitals offer a mass cremation for deceased babies, and either bury them, or spread their ashes throughout some sort of angel garden - I assume I wasn't given this option at our hospital because we were so firm with not wanting them to take our baby. I am still surprised that the doctor didn't even bring it up, though. 

Another option that I noticed a lot of couples opted for was burying their baby in their back yard, with a memorial stone, or garden. We didn't even explore this option; I'm not saying anything against it, it just wasn't for us. We are a military family, no place is really "home" for very long; I couldn't imagine starting a small memorial garden when we'll be moving in the months to come. I read on and discovered that some parents who wanted that option, but couldn't due to living in apartment buildings, decided to bury their baby in a potted plant. Again, this wasn't for us. 

Deep down I knew that I had wanted our baby to be cremated, however I was in fear that if I called around, I would be laughed at, or it just wouldn't be possible, so I continued to search on..

I was extremely sad to see that so many women in my position had been left with no answers. Like me, they were offered the option to "dispose" of the baby, and while not knowing they had other options, said yes. Or, in many cases, women aren't given the decision at all.. Other's also not knowing, simply flushed their babies - again, no judgement, in these situations you're usually in complete shock, if this is something you're going through alone, and have no access to answers, what else could you do? Seriously think about that..

After long hours of searching, and going over options with my husband, he suggested burying the baby at  place that we hold dear in our hearts. While we did explore this option, it just didn't sit well with me. Finally, I decided to call around to funeral homes; surely they have dealt with these situations before.

Some turned me away immediately, saying that there would be nothing left, and that it was impossible. It was so heartbreaking to hear those words. I didn't give up though. I kept calling around to out of town locations, and finally spoke with a wonderful man, who said they not only offered the service, but that they offered it for free. Later I ended up finding a funeral home locally that was associated with the one I had been happy with, and went through them. You can read about that, here, and here.

My husband and I knew right away that we wanted to spread the ashes. Deciding on the location was one of our easier decisions. "Lake on the Mountain Provincial Park" has always held a spot on our hearts. It's simply breath taking. When I was pregnant with Little Miss, that was the place where we took our first maternity photo's, and when she was 17 months old, we went back, and without even realizing it, replicated the photo's. It was our full intention to once again take maternity photo's and watch our family grow through these photo's. 

Sometime this summer when we venture out that way, we'll be going to spread the ashes. I had also decided that we would release 5 white balloons while we were there, but now there will be 4 white, and one pink!

The Morning of March 8th, 2012

Warning; this post is extremely graphic, and will contain triggers.

 This will be an extremely difficult post to write, and I will be openly talking about what we went through, and what we did, that was right for us. 

In sharing this, I hope to help others in this position. 

This circumstance is rarely ever talked about, and trying to find answers of the "right thing to do" is extremely difficult. 

In the end, we did what seemed like the best decision for us. While it may not have been yours, it wasn't yours to make. If you've never been in this position, you'd never know what making these decisions feels like, and if you have had to make these decisions, then you know how extremely difficult it is to find the right ones. 

So, before I go on, I kindly ask that you keep any negative comments, or judgements to yourself, as they are not welcome here.

On Wednesday March 7th, around noon, while having lunch with my family, I suddenly felt intense cramping throughout my belly, and lower back, that literally had me in tears. I was already experiencing intense cramping which had forced me to the hospital a few times already, so I wasn't too concerned. 

Later that evening, DH and I cuddled on the couch to watch a movie together, the cramping continued, but something didn't seem right. Around 10pm I went upstairs to use the bathroom, and noticed that I was bleeding a bit. Panic and worry immediately rushed over me. DH asked if I wanted to go to the hospital, but I assured myself that spotting was common during early pregnancy. I told myself that it was most likely nothing, but prayed nonetheless. Shortly after, we went to bed. 

Morning came, and Little Miss came running down the hall at 6am looking for some morning snuggles. As soon as my eyes opened I knew something was terribly wrong. I rushed to the bathroom & noticed quite a bit of blood on my liner, and began to tremble. Within seconds the amount of blood I was loosing became evident. I tried to call for DH, but through my tears, it barely was barely a whisper. He heard my sobs and came to me. Showing him the mess of blood was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do. 

I cleaned up what I could, still shaking, and sobbing, then sat on the bathroom floor in complete shock.

Around 20 minutes later, I felt another gush, and saw my baby. It was more than I could handle. I started screaming for DH and he was holding me within seconds. It was over. This little life was no more. Pure devastation kicked in. Why wasn't my baby inside me anymore? I tried telling myself that what I was seeing wasn't real, but I knew better than that. Little Miss had followed DH up the stairs, and into the bathroom; I immediately tried to hide the mess, but I wasn't fast enough. Poor DH was in complete shock that he didn't either. When she saw the mess, she started saying "Yuck!" and "kean up!". He then grabbed her a left the room as quickly as he could.

I cleaned myself up, and what I could in the bathroom, any got back in bed. 

An hour later, I decided to get DH to bring me to the hospital. Never before I had I gone to the hospital with my previous miscarriages - My body has always delivered them naturally, and at home, for which I am actually very thankful for. Going in proved to be a waste of time, and just caused more heartache than anything. When I called my doctor before going in, I was told to bring the baby in with me so that they could confirm that I had passed everything. I remember actually saying "Are you serious?!". When I told my husband this, I saw a tinge of fear in his eyes. He took my hand and firmly said "Do not let them take the baby..". We've heard too many stories of babies being discarded as "medical waste" without the parents permission, and we certainly did not what that to happen to us. The doctor told me to place the baby in a baggy of "some sort" and to try to contain "as much of the pregnancy as possible". Hearing these words felt like a knife in my heart. After hanging up, I went to the kitchen, and rummaged through my cabinets, looking for small glass jar. I was not about to put my baby in a baggy. Though, I know some of you may have gasped when I mentioned the jar. What would you have done?

My husband has a medical kit, so with gloves on, I gently placed the baby, with placenta still attached, into the jar. You think reading that is hard? Try doing it.

I put the jar into a brown paper bag, and we were on our way.

I will never forget the feeling of sitting in the car on the way to the hospital. Sitting in my lap was that little brown paper bag, and I couldn't help but thinking about how wrong the situation was. My baby should be in my belly; warm, safe, and alive. Not in a jar. Not in my lap. I should have be driving to the hospital, months from then, with contractions ready to give birth to a beautiful baby. Instead, I was on my way to the hospital with contractions because my baby had died inside me. 

When I got to the hospital, I had to wait for my turn to see the triage nurse. I'm sure I looked pretty horrible. I know my eyes were black and swollen from crying so much. I was in a considerable amount of pain, so I wasn't walking properly either. Everyone that saw me either quickly looked the other way, or just stared. I felt like a freak.

I finally got called in to see the nurse. It was the most awkward feeling ever. She asked why I was there, and I said that I had just miscarried my baby. She then said "How do you know?" I must have given her one heck of a look, because she immediately shut up and starting writing. She then took my blood pressure, and checked my temperature. I wanted to say something along the lines of "I'm not sick, stupid! My baby died!" but I kept my mouth shut, and bit my tongue. I couldn't help but feel so bitter and angry. She then told me to have a seat in the waiting room. I could have hit her. Really? I have to wait? 

Just my luck, while I was waiting a very pregnant lady came in with obvious contractions. I wanted to scream. I couldn't help but think that coming was a horrible idea and wanted to go home. After 30 minutes of waiting, I was finally called in to see a doctor. He asked my medical history, so I told him about the multiple miscarriages. He then proceeded to say that I was a "habitual aborter". Thanks, that's exactly what a woman wants to hear in that position. After a quick examination he asked to see the "pregnancy remains" to which I said "Do you mean my baby?", he nodded awkwardly. After opening the jar, and taking a look, he asked he we would like him to "dispose of the waste". Imagine that. I said "No, we'd like to take our baby home and go from there." He seems surprised, but didn't question my decision. He asked if we would like the baby sent for testing, and we declined. Knowing why our baby died wouldn't change anything at that point, we knew that.

I had to wait another 2 hours while they waited for blood test results, that confirmed that I had miscarried - because apparently my word for it wasn't good enough..

Making the decision to go to the hospital is a complete regret of mine. It was horrible experience, and both DH and I wish we had decided otherwise at the time. What's done is done though..

I keep replaying that morning in my head, wondering why this happened. Anger takes over & I want so badly to scream. As of tomorrow, I would have been halfway through my pregnancy. I so vividly remember the halfway mark with Little Miss; what a joyous time this could have been..

“Rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn.” 

-Romans 12:15

Lyrics | Jo Dee Messina lyrics - Bring On The Rain lyrics

Victoria

Over the years I've heard a few stories where people have claimed to have dreamt of their angel babies. I don't know why, but I've always doubted these stories meant anything; after all a dream is just your imagination, right? I'm ashamed to admit it, but I thought they were barely even believable..

Today was just a normal Sunday in our home. As we prepared for DH {dear husband} to head back to base hours away, I debated as to whether or not I should put DD {darling daughter} down for a nap. I'm always so torn; a few hours of rest, or a few extra hours with daddy? Turns out, our bodies decided for us, and both DD & I were struck with exhaustion at the same time. I decided to get in bed next to her, and told DH to wake me up after 20 minutes if I wasn't up yet.

Within minutes I was slowly falling asleep. While I wasn't quite completely asleep, I began what I assume was dreaming. It was strange, and I'm not sure I can give it justice through my words, but I'll try...

The dream consisted of almost nothing, and lasted no time at all. I saw five children sitting side by side on a white bench; everything around them was white. I say "everything" but I really mean nothing; there was nothing around them. On the far left sat who I assume was the oldest, and judging by the height, they went down in age to the youngest on the right. Though I couldn't see their faces, because they had their backs to me, I knew they weren't far apart in age - the youngest looking about 8 years old.

Everything about them was completely and utterly angelic - simply no doubt about it.

Their hair was a beautiful blond, that shone hints of red in the light that came from above. I couldn't tell whether they were boys or girls, but in the dream I didn't question that. They sat there wearing long white gowns, with no shoes. While they sat, I could see that they were having fun playing simple hand games with each other. The one furthest on the right, the youngest, then turned around and looked at me. She was perfect in every way imaginable. The most beautiful striking blue eyes, and a face sculpted to perfection. In that instant, I knew her name. It didn't just come to me, I just knew it as though I'd always known. Her name was Victoria. She smiled at me, and in that instant, I couldn't help but feel so entirely loved. 


I woke up with tears in my eyes. Did that really just happen? I can't explain what I felt at that moment. Whether it was an image sent from God himself, or something my mind fabricated I'll never know, but I do know the comfort it brought me. While I couldn't see the children, I knew they were mine. They were happy, safe, and together. I quickly tried to close my eyes again, praying to go back. Tears streaming down my face I went downstairs to find my husband and just clung to him. I finally stopped crying long enough to tell him about it. We sat in silence, and just held each other.

What really gets me, is that this morning while showering I had a small break down. My fourth miscarriage had never been confirmed (a long story). During my break down, of tears and shaking my fist towards the heavens, I prayed for my babies, I asked God if I would ever know exactly how many babies were waiting for me. I felt so sad for never really knowing the truth - The pain was there, I felt the loss, it just couldn't be confirmed.

I now know that the answer is five. We have five sweet angels waiting in heaven for us. The youngest, a beautiful blue eyes girl, named Victoria..

Yesterday I came across a short prayer, that really stuck with me; It was the prayer I said in the shower earlier this morning:

Dear Lord,

I would have loved to hold my babies on my lap and tell them about you, but since I didn't get the chance, would you please hold them in your lap and tell them about me?

In what seemed like 5 short seconds, I feel as though so many of our prayers had been answered. I feel so much comfort, and even joy from this dream. I feel as though when she looked at me and smiled, she knew me completely.
Again, whether this dream was a fabrication of my mind, or straight from God himself, I'll never know; either way it's helped me greatly, and at the end of the day, I will be continuing to thank God for all he does.

I would like to point out that never had DH and I ever considered, nor discussed Victoria as a name for any of our children. I've always thought of it as a beautiful name, but it was never on our list. We had also never intended to name any of our angel babies; it was something we decided on, together; after all it isn't very easy to name a child when you don't know their gender, let alone have had the chance to see their faces. We said we'd wait until we could meet them, just as if they were born alive to us. However, whether it has been by us, or by the grace of God, our precious baby number five, has been named Victoria.

Todays verse of the day

“However, I consider my life worth nothing to me; my only aim is to finish the race and complete the task the Lord Jesus has given me—the task of testifying to the good news of God’s grace.” Acts 20:24 

The Next Step..

On Monday morning, I started the next step in this journey of ours. At 10am I had an appointment in Ottawa at the Ottawa Fertility Center.

I'm not sure I can tell you exactly how I'm felt about this. A huge part of me was feeling happy, and singing praise; after 5 years we may finally get some answers. We had been praying for that day for so long. Another part of me was extremely nervous, anxious, and scared. What if the answers are worse than we expect? What if there are no answers? I'm not sure how we would handle that..

With my stomach in knots, I walked into the building not knowing what to expect. I didn't wait long before I was called in by who I thought was a nurse - My heart filled with sheer joy when she introduced herself as my doctor! These past weeks I just expected that my doctor would be a male, never did it even cross my mind to expect a female. I am so extremely pleased with her! She was wonderful, caring, and very thorough.

After answering an hours worth of questions, I was taken in for an examination, which included various uncomfortable procedures - I won't bother with the TMI on those! I will however tell you that one was so painful, that it literally left me sick to my stomach, and almost threw up on the spot. During my examination, Dr. K determined what I had already expected, and noticed an ovarian cyst on my right ovary. This will be verified & discussed at my next appointment when I have an ultrasound.

After my examination, I was sent to her assistant to go over the next steps. I can only think of one word to describe it; Overwhelming.

Over the next couple months, I have several tests that I need to complete. Some of them can be done whenever, and others need to be on specific days according my cycle. For instance, on the first day of my cycle, I have to call my doctors office, let them know, and schedule 2 ultrasounds. One is just a basic ultrasound, and the other won't be quite as simple. I'm actually dreading the second one entirely. I'm required to take antibiotics before hand, and was forewarned to take Advil beforehand to help with the pain involved.. On the 3rd day, I have to go in for blood work, and then back for more on the 21st day. Amidst all this, I have several other blood tests that also need to be taken care of, they just aren't cycle sensitive. There are a few other things I know I need to do, I just can't think of what they are, off the top of my head. Oye.

If anything, from all of this, I would at least like to know why my body hasn't been able to carry my precious angels. Only God knows whether or not we'll have another child. We don't plan on undergoing any extensive fertility treatments in order to become pregnant again, so I can tell you that we're praying hard for a simple fix (if there is such a thing..). Ah, here's to hoping!

Balancing Life & Loss

Oh, where to begin.. I can't tell you how hard it's been these past two months, to try to balance everything amidst this grief.

With my husband away, it's been my duty to maintain this household, care for and overactive toddler, run a business, deal with cremation arrangements {completely alone}, and attempt to care of myself in between all of that. I somehow managed; The "how" is beyond me.

I'll be honest though; there have been several days where I've found myself in my pyjama's all day, and only leaving the couch to tend to Little Miss. Feeding myself on most days hasn't even been a priority.
For the first month, I slacked so much in the business department. Any idea how hard it is to make jewelry for new mothers, after losing your own child? It was depressing and the thought alone was exhausting. Much to my sadness I did have a 2 customers lash out at me for my slowness. Dealing with it professionally wasn't the easiest thing to do, but I managed. Luckily the rest of my customers were extremely understanding & compassionate. I even received emails of condolence from many of my repeat customers, and a few from people who were just simply "fans" on Facebook. I'm happy to say though, that I am back on track, and up to date with everything (phew!).

Housework is a completely different story though. I've managed to keep the main area's up to par, but I'd die if anyone had a peak into my laundry corner in the basement, or if anyone stepped into my studio. Yikes! Now that I'm starting to feel like myself again, the thought of those area's makes me want to scream - What I'd give for a few quiet hours to take care of that..

All that being said, I'm surprised that I've been able to maintain life as well as I have, despite the breakdowns, and hard days. They say you never know how strong you are, until strong is the only choice you have; I can't tell you how right that is. Without my faith in God over these past months, I don't know where I'd be. The strength I've been able to find in myself is quite remarkable. I know that everything that happens in my life, happens for a reason. For months I've prayed for strength, and independence to deal with my husbands absence; While this isn't the way I had wanted to gain those qualities, I have been able to stand on my feet and handle what life has given me, in a way that I never would have suspected that I could..

Amazingly enough, here is today's scripture:

“Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; 

for this is God’s will for you in Christ Jesus.” 

-1 Thessalonians 5:16-18

Be Still My Soul..

I may not have had the chance to hold my baby the way I wanted to, here on earth, but I cannot tell you how grateful I am to have held my baby at all. For a very brief moment in my life, I had the chance to love someone, beyond compare without ever seeing their face, or knowing their name. I have had the chance to experience an unconditional love so powerful, that words can't even describe it.
While my heart does still ache for my babies, I know that they are in the arms of God; what better place to be?

This past Friday, I made my final trip to the funeral home. Filled with absolute dread, I didn't sleep the night before. I was incredibly antsy, and very emotional. I've never had to do this before; I didn't know what to expect, or how I would react emotionally at the time. I did prepare myself though, I knew this would be one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

I woke up Friday morning, showered, put my face on, and did my hair. For some reason, and I certainly can't tell you why, I felt the need to look my best. Don't ask, because I honestly don't have an answer for you.. Put Little Miss in a pretty dress, and we were on our way. No turning back now, right?

Pulling into the long driveway of the funeral home, I felt anxious, and nervous. Much to even my surprise, I held my own. I had to catch my breath when I was handed the tiny urn though; I hadn't remembered just how tiny it really was. When you think about new babies, you think about tiny clothes, and tiny shoes; not tiny urns. It's a devastating thing to even think about. I was then handed a cremation certificate, which I was not expecting at all. Did I really need one more thing saying "Baby McNair"? I quickly put it into the velvet bag, I was given, without even looking at it.

When I got back to the car, my hands were shaking. I felt the need to open the envelope and look at the certificate. It wasn't an easy thing to read. I then took a peak at the urn sitting in the velvet bag, with "March 8, 2012 - Tiny footprints on our hearts" engraved on it, and at that very moment I felt at ease. I can't explain it, nor will I try. I suddenly felt calm & together. I took one last look at the beautiful Victorian funeral home, and felt relief. It was over.

When we arrived home, I did let out a few tears when things finally sunk in, but I wasn't in pain anymore. This summer we intend to release the ashes at a place that we hold dear to us; Our baby is in heaven, there is no need for us to hold on to ashes.

Of course, my heart will always ache for my babies in heaven, but knowing they are with the Lord, eases that pain greatly. One day, I'll have the chance to meet them, give them names, and hold their hands. I can live with that..