Thanksgiving: If not thankful, grateful

This Thanksgiving...is going to be weird. What was supposed to be our first holiday with our son turned out to be our first without him.

Last Thanksgiving, we'd really just started talking seriously about when to have kids. We'd decided that 2012 would be it. It's crazy to look back at how different our lives are now. I never would have guessed that we'd get pregnant so fast. And I never would have guessed that we'd have a son...and then lose him, in the very same year.

So much has changed.

It's hard for me to talk about being thankful right now. I'm so bitter. I'm still hurt, and I don't know how to make this go away. In all honesty, it won't. Luke will never come back. But I have my better days. And I'm thankful that the really terrible days seem to be making fewer appearances.

There's Jeff. My rock. I'm not convinced I would have survived labor if Jeff wasn't there with me through every terrible step that we took that day we lost Luke. I literally told myself I had to make it through this...for him. If for no other reason than I couldn't possibly leave him alone. In some ways, I feel like losing Luke has brought us closer together, and I hate that that's what it took.

I say that a lot. There's so many things I've learned since losing Luke. I had no idea just how many people cared about us before this. I had a charmed life before. We have friends and family who we obviously know cared about us. But the depth?

There's our immediate family and closest friends--Who walked every terrible step of this journey side-by-side with us, and shared so much of our grief in those hours and days immediately after everything happened. Luke's death...hurt them as much as it did us. All those expectations of life in the future...were nearly as shattered for them as they were for us.

I know I still haven't answered many of those messages and emails and text messages that I've gotten from many of you in the past couple of months. Just know that they haven't gone unnoticed. Every single one came through. And I'm so grateful to all of you that have reached out to us. Who brought us dinner. Sent us cards.

I feel so lucky to be able to call Gallup my other family. And the same goes for Jeff and his coworkers. Things could have been so much more difficult for us had we not had such an amazing support system of friends where we work.

Then there's everyone who donated and walked for Luke's team for the OC Walk to Remember. I still can't comprehend how much support there was. For walking with us. And for all of your donations made in Luke's name. The day Ali set up that page for us, and we saw everything rolling in, even from some of YOUR friends that we didn't even know? It was a ray of light in our terrible journey. It restored my faith in humanity, honestly. The outpouring of love and support from so many people touched us so deeply.

Through this blog, I've read about so many other families that have gone through the same things we have. Every story is sort of different, but it breaks my heart that this happens to other people too. But I find strength in reading your stories. We're all in different places in our journeys through grief, but I'm so glad we have each other to relate to. No one should know this pain, but I'm so thankful that I'm not the only one carrying it and sharing it.

This is our first holiday without our son, and I'm still trying to figure out how to navigate my way through this phase of my life that I never saw coming--Never made plans for.

I feel cheated and sad and angry that Luke was stolen from us. But if there's anything I can ask of all of you who love us and Luke...it's to remember him. Remember his birthday each year. And all that could have been for him. I wish every day that this could all be different, but I know that none of us can ever change it. We'll forever have an empty seat at our Thanksgiving table without him. And that hurts my heart.

Back to the Grind

I went back to work Monday.

It's a strange feeling, going back to something that's completely the same and yet totally different at the same time. Another one of those situations I've often found myself in lately that's a complete mindfuck.

I'll admit that it was easier than I expected it to be. That's probably due to the fact that I work with an amazing group of people, many of whom I consider my best friends. In many ways, my work is my home, and I guess I'm lucky to have a place that I can call work AND home. Knowing that...made it easier.

Everyone was amazing. It was really great to see everybody in person, and thankfully, there wasn't much awkwardness.

The work part, though...That part was harder to get back into the swing of things. My brain definitely has a much harder time focusing on things now...Every once in awhile, I just stop. There's a part of me that feels like work is just...stupid. Caring about deadlines and graphs and data...Why? None of it seems as important as you were to us. It isn't.

It's like you've left a permanent imprint on my brain, Luke. You're there, at the forefront of my mind even when I'm not actively thinking about you. I hope that never goes away.

2 Months Without You

Today is your 2-month birthday, Luke.

I can't believe it's been 2-months since we lost you.

Things seem less debilitating today than they did a month ago. I miss you so much, though. I wish I could be posting a picture of you in a cute onesie with a big "2 Months" on it today. It would be big, too, cause you'd definitely be a big guy by now.

Today I'm finding that the tears come a little bit slower than they did just a month ago. But they don't hurt me inside any less. Trying to get used to the idea that I'm still your Mom, just without you? That's still the hardest part to comprehend. Sometimes I still feel like we're just waiting for you to make your appearance. That you'll show up soon. But then reality comes back around, and I go into your empty room and see everything that's still waiting for you. That's our reality. We'll always be waiting for you.

That hole in my heart will always be there for you.

But the one thing I'm thankful for most right now, is that somehow, I feel you're sending me strength to get through this. I've somehow avoided crumbling into pieces after losing you (at least so far). Part of me feels guilty that I'm not.

But then another part of me is proud that you gave that to me--You gave me that strength. And that makes you the best son in the world right now.

Last few days of #captureyourgrief

The last week of October turned out to be kinda rough for me.  I really wasn't in the mood to finish doing this, but I wanted to finish the challenge eventually, so here we go...

Day 26: Their Age

I took this picture of my cankles the day before we went to the hospital.  Luke was born and died at exactly 39 weeks gestation on September 10, 2012.  It seemed impossible--if we made it that far, that we could have lost him. 

Day 27: Artwork


Pretty early after we found out we were having a boy, Jeff and I agreed to do Luke's room in a Star Wars theme. One of the first few things we bought was a Wampa rug off of ThinkGeek.com, and just a week before we lost him, we'd finally gotten these prints hung up that we had found on Etsy. I'm in love with them, and I wish he could see them.

Day 28: A Memory

There are so many memories I have, this being my first pregnancy. I can almost replay the entire thing back in my head--nearly week by week. I hope I never forget these memories, because playing them back in my head is all I have of Luke.

At about 18 weeks, we found out we were having a boy on a Wednesday, and then the next day, we went to Coachella, AND celebrated Jeff's birthday that weekend. There was so much to be excited about then. Jeff was so excited we were having a boy, and we talked about the possibility of someday bringing him to his first Coachella with us. We got him his first concert tee that weekend, too. So much to look forward to.

Day 29: Music


Pearl Jam's Light Years pretty much sums up the way I feel about losing Luke. I can't even think of one that's by any other artist that hits it on the head as well, and...well, it's fitting. We had they lyrics printed in the program for Luke's service, and to this day, I still haven't found a more personally-fitting song that we could have used.

Day 30: Your Grief – Tell The World

I don't want to be here feeling this. It's the last thing that was supposed to happen to me in MY LIFE. Nothing can prepare you for these feelings, but the one thing that we have going for us is knowing that so many of you care...and were/are there for us when we need/ed you. I know I'm a strong person, but this has shaken me to my core, and without your love and support...I don't know what this would be like. And I don't want to.

Day 31: Sunset

I kind of cheated and didn't take a picture on October 31...It was a bad week for me, and I was actually at my acupuncturist's office as the sun went down anyway...So I took this picture earlier this month--when we headed to Solvang/Santa Barbara to get away from everything. I've neglected my photography skills for a year or so now, and I decided to try to get some sunset pics on a sunset sailing cruise we took through the Santa Barbara harbor. It was a gorgeous sunset, and I could feel Luke shining down on us the whole time...I somehow managed to perfectly catch the sun setting inbetween the sails on this sail boat. I love this picture. It's beautiful and peaceful. Now if only I could find that within myself.

Mondays

Mondays seem to be the worst days for me, Luke.

Today I decided that I needed to scan everything we have that's a memory of you--Mostly pictures from the hospital.  It's not much, but the thought of losing any of that, to a fire or a burglar, or whatever...makes me want to throw up. 

Plus, I'm going back to work next week.  I feel like I need something, anything, on my phone to remind me that you were real.  So often lately, you don't feel like you were real. 

I find that when I'm distracted, it gets easy to feel that way.  And I hate that.  I hate that the only time you seem real to me is when I'm looking back at your things and reminiscing about everything I thought was going to be for us.  I should just be able to come home and see you.  But all I have right now is one folder on my computer--that holds all of the pictures from your entire life.  And a bassinet that holds a teddy bear , your memory box, and all of the sympathy cards we've received since you left.

Everyone keeps saying that things have to get better.  I have a really hard time thinking that.  But I do know that there's no way things could possibly get any worse.  I'm having a bad case of the "Why me?"s today.  These past few years have been...a struggle for us.  The struggle with this house alone has been enough of a headache to cause most people to go crazy.  But I was strong.  I got through it.  Daddy was done with school this year. I'm not gonna lie.  When I found out we were gonna have you, I FINALLY felt like things were finally going to fall into place with us.  That things were going to STOP being completely shitty, at least for a little while.  Because we'd have our own family.  And yes, crappy things come up when you have kids, but at least you have each other.

And we don't even have that right now.  I have your Daddy.  And our families.  But you're missing, and you complete our little family.  The weight of thinking about how you're never going to physically be in our family makes my brain ache.  I am going to struggle with missing you for my entire life.  And the farther away from September 10, 2012 that we get, the farther from real you become.

So going back to work next week is going to be the next step that I'm forcing myself to take to being farther away from you.  I hate that this is what I'm forced to be doing.  I hate that it's not that I'm forced to be going back to work so that I can afford to take care of you.  I hate that I'm taking this step because it's helping me move forward with my life.

And those are all things I'm going to have to get good at living with, I suppose.

Now you know how you really feel about it

I've watched my fair share of Friends reruns in the past 6 weeks.  It was always one of my favorite shows, and something about it makes me feel...comfortable.  Maybe it's comfort in my past?  I don't know.

For obvious reasons, I find myself turning the channel whenever the show I'm watching deals with someone having a baby.  Or tons of parents and babies (thanks a lot, Project Runway--for making an episode that dealt entirely with making BABY CLOTHES for the first time EVER this season).  It's painful for me to watch.  Knowing that was me--Not that long ago.  I identify with those feelings, but then I have a whole load of other feelings that came from everything that happened after losing Luke.  And now I'm different.

So on at least two occasions these past few weeks, I've seen The One After "I Do."   That episode--I can't not watch it.  It's the one where Rachel found out she's pregnant, but didn't tell anyone, as it was right before Chandler and Monica's wedding, and she wasn't sure what she was going to do.  The episode ends with Monica finding out about it, and Rachel takes another pregnancy test just to be sure.  Phoebe lies and tells her that the new test was negative.  And Rachel comes to realize that she's upset it's NOT positive this time..."How can I be upset over something I never had?"

And Phoebe says "I'm just kidding, it's positive. Now you know how you really feel about it!"

I can't even say how hard that part hits me.

It took me a long time to understand that I wanted to have kids.  I'm 33.  Most people just fall into parenthood way sooner.  I'm...a control freak, and I went through most of my 20s knowing that I wasn't ready to become a parent.  It wasn't that I didn't trust my relationship with Jeff.  Or that I thought I couldn't do it.  It was more that I liked my life how it was, and I wanted  to continue on that path.  And also that  I wanted to be in the best  possible place to have a kid.  But we both knew that we wanted to have a family together...someday.  That was always in our plans.

I'll admit that even when we started trying to get pregnant last December, I'm not sure I completely knew how I felt about becoming a parent.  And it happened so fast.  But when I figured out that it was time to take a test, deep down inside, I knew we were ready for it.  If that test had come back as negative, I surely would have said the same exact thing--"How can I be upset over something I never had?"

I found myself saying the same thing when I found out that we were having a boy.  I'd always wanted a girl, and it was sort of a blow to me at first when we found out.  I got over that, though.  I really did.

It's horrible how this is all turned around on me now.

Now I know how I really feel about it.  I wanted to be Luke's Mom.  And now here I am, crushed about the life I'm never going to have with him.  I would do anything to change the way it is.  Anything.  But there's nothing that can change this.  

It's like a cruel joke that life is playing on me--"Now you know how you really feel about it."

I do.  And I hate that there's nothing I can do to change it.

#captureyourgrief--Day 22

Place of Birth

Luke was born at 5:23am on September 10, 2012 at St. Jude Medical Center in Fullerton, California.  When we went in that Sunday afternoon, we got nothing but amazing care from the staff at the medical center.  We had quite possibly the best nurse in the world...Sheri, if you're reading this, we couldn't have gotten through that day without you. 

Inevitable.

Today, I had to call 6pm to return some shoes that I'd ordered online.  Of course, I had to call them because when I tried to file the return on their website, for some reason, my account was down.  The woman on the phone today had never seen this "in her entire career" there, so of course, there was that.

So I'm reading off my order information to her.  First I give her my email address.  Fakeplasticlove at gmail dot com.  She tells me she loves it.  That it's totally one-of-a-kind.  I agree with her and say thanks.  Then she asks what nationality my last name is.  I tell her that my husband is half Japanese, but I'm actually mostly German. 

And then there it was.  "Do you guys have kids!? Mixed ethnicity kids are so gorgeous!"

I had actually thought about how I'd answer that question before.  It was maybe sometime last week.  And I'd told myself that I wanted to answer YES to that question...because we DID have a child.  Luke was real.

But I...lost my strength to care and go through making the conversation awkward.  And I told her "No, we don't."

She then apologized because I probably sounded like I got hit by a truck when I answered.  She said she was sorry if that was too much questioning.

The truth is, Luke was beautiful.  She was right.  I just wish we got to see his beauty grow up. 

I'm not angry like I was the other day.  Today, that mostly just made me really sad.

#captureyourgrief Day 19 & 20

I've been behind on a couple of the posts this week...some of them, I feel like I couldn't really post anything about yet at this point...But here's to catching up a little bit?

Day 19--A Project
Mom and I have been talking about doing something to remember Luke with...We're just not sure where to start.  It'll probably be a bit artsy, but we haven't really nailed anything down yet.  In the meantime though, THIS is my project.  For me.  I've been a blogger for a long time now...I don't put it out there for the world to see anymore.  But for this blog, I feel like putting it out there for anyone else that's going through this pain could only help someone.  I know that I've found comfort in reading other baby-loss moms' blogs--Knowing that they're farther along in the grief process--but they're still going.  They have families.  They still remember their babies, but they've found a way to do that and continue on living.

It's also kind of serving as a way for  me to...think right now.  I used to mess around with coding a long time ago, so it's sort of fun and a challenge for me to customize, etc, right now.  Maybe that's getting me ready to go back to work in some way?

But if I can help someone else feel better, that makes me feel better.

Day 20--A Charity/Organization

I've said it many times, but I'm so thankful for the OC Walk to Remember.  The day everything happened...we found out about them at the hospital.  They fund training for nurses at hospitals in the area who are taking care of patients like us at the hospital.  They provide things for you at the hospital that  you probably weren't expecting to need.  They fund support groups to help the grief process in this situation, and they host an annual 5K in Tustin.  This year we raised over $5000 for them, and I can't be more proud.  This is not a club or organization you want to join, necessarily, but when you find yourself in it...you'll be glad they exist. 

5.5 Week Checkup

Today was my first checkup at my OB without you, Luke.

Not gonna lie.  It was rough walking into my doctor's building without you in your car seat.  My heart pounded in my chest as I walked down the hallway toward her office.  I'd been in that office so many times this year.  So many times--with no fear or question in my heart about how things were going.  Not once did I feel scared that anything could happen to us or you.

This time was so different. And all the damage was already done.

Thank goodness the waiting room wasn't terribly full when I got there.  Daddy met me there from work, and I was so happy when he showed up.  It was wrong with it still being just the two of us sitting in the office together, but I was proud of myself for not crying in the waiting room.

That changed once we got inside the exam room.  Seeing my doc again was hard.  I like her a lot, and I'd never not trusted her or her decisions about our care.  She told me that we'd changed her.  That she really rethought what she tells her patients about doing kick-counts.  That she's going to recommend it to all of her patients now, because while it's not something all doctors tell you how to do, it's important to TRY to know when something's going wrong.  She's not sure we could have changed anything, though.  It was such a short amount of time between that Friday--when you were seemingly fine at my doctor's appointment, and Sunday morning, when you were already gone.  She said she's never seen anything like it--that babies are born with nuchal cords and knots in their cord all the time--and they're fine.  But for some reason, you weren't.  Maybe it was because you were so big and healthy.  I wasn't measuring as big as you turned out to be, and she said that definitely caught her off guard.  She had no idea you'd be almost 10 pounds, considering you were a little less than 7 pounds at the ultrasound just three weeks before.  With me being so tall, it wasn't easily seen in my body just what a big guy you were.  She told us that it was really hard on them too...That this doesn't happen very often.  Sometimes they go a year or so without seeing this.  And then this happened.  And apparently this happened to another patient in their practice a week after us.  She said this hurt them too...

She went on to try to assure me that this was SUCH an uncommon accident.  She'd never seen it before.  And that next time around, she will do everything in her power to reassure me that your brother or sister will be ok.  We'll get a Perinatologist and NSTs at least twice a week.  More ultrasounds to check the cord more often.  She told me that she for sure would deliver at about 39 weeks, maybe sooner, and if the measurements are similar to yours, we'd do a c-section.  She told us that if you had been alive when she delivered you, she feared she would've broken your clavicle trying to get you out--they would have had to be much more aggressive because we couldn't have taken our time.  That's how big you were.  She told us that it would've been a scary delivery regardless, and she wished she would've been more prepared for that. 

They didn't find anything in any of the tests to tell us what happened, Luke.  We're both happy and sad about this.  Happy, because it means that there's really no reason this could happen to us again.  But we're sad--because it means we'll never understand why or how we lost you.  She ordered more blood tests for me today--to rule out everything possible.  I gave a total of 18 vials of blood today, Luke.  There were only supposed to be 9, but the lab worker said he used a needle that was too fat the first time, and he punctured my vein too much and messed up the samples.  Great.

So we discussed the future.  My doc said that as soon as I get my next cycle, we could start trying again if we wanted to.  Obviously, we need to do what's best for us, but just thinking about this right now hurts me, Luke.  I'm so torn on everything.  I don't want to replace you.  I don't want to start trying again right away just to fill the hole that's been left in our lives.  But at the same time, I do.  This wasn't how it was supposed to be, and I wish this wasn't a decision that we have to make.  Daddy and I aren't exactly young.  We can't wait years to work on fixing ourselves after losing you...

But then there's the thought of going through being pregnant again, only with all of this on my mind.  The entire time.  I'm going to be a wreck.  Going through this again--Even if everything is FINE the entire time, I don't know if there's anything anyone will be able to do to reassure me that it will all turn out ok.  Nothing will be ok until we hold your brother or sister in our arms.  And I won't believe anything anyone tells me until that happens.    


I don't know what to do.

Everyone keeps saying to take our time and figure out what's best for us, but I feel like time isn't on our side.
I need to call back a therapist that Angela found for me.  This therapist has gone through a stillbirth herself, and I'm hoping she can give me some advice here, because I honestly don't know what to do.  I feel like right now, all I can do is miss you.  

All I know is...it still  hurts.  A lot.  I know I'm strong, but this is just hard.