Guilt, stress and hurt

While the vacuum cleaner graced our front lawn, I cried on my bed.  I never know from one day to the next how I'm going to be feeling and today was not a good day.  I have been avoiding this blog for about a week now.  I feel like it should be about Nathan and nothing else.  But...this is my recovery...my personal story...my life.  And today, on my bed, the results of my neglect came out in full force.  My story is not like any other story.  Even someone who has lost a baby boy to stillbirth at 21 weeks due to unknown causes.  We all grieve differently and we all have different things to deal with while grieving.
We lost Nathan in August.  We got pregnant again in October.  I was publicly attacked in December.  We lost our church and friends in January.  My grandmother has been sick several times recently and is not expected to live much longer.  This is my reality.  This is my life.
I still have moments where I feel guilt for Nathan's death.  My tear-stained pillow is a testament to that today.  I know, deep down in my very soul that I did everything I could to ensure a healthy baby.  I took care of myself the best way I knew how.  But it wasn't good enough.  Not having a reason for his death is very hard.  I'd love to be able to point at something and say, "THAT is why he died.  We can prevent that from happening again."  It is not meant to be.  So I question everything I did.  I blame myself for my loss.  I cry out to God and ask him "Why?  Why did this happen to MY baby?  Did I cause this?  Was there something that could have been done differently to save him?"  I have no answers, only questions.
And in the midst of dealing with all of these questions and emotions I am forced to look for a new church and new friends.  I don't want to.  It's hard.  And with all that we have been through, Jim and I are having trouble trusting church people.  We keep waiting for the pastor at the church we are currently attending to change his mind and tell us not to come back like the last place.  We're not sure we want to get to know the people there.  What if they turn on us too?  What if all Christians act like the people at our former church?  What if I make a new best friend and she turns her back on me like the last one?  What if the deacon's wife de-friends me on facebook the second there's a hint of trouble yet still wants to publicly follow my life on my blog?  It's awkward and it hurts.  I sometimes think it would be better if I never saw any of them again.  I don't need to talk to them, hear about their lives, get e-mails from them, see them following my blog.  They abandoned me when I needed them most.  What right do they have to my life?  But, I'd like to think that if they are still wanting to see a little glimpse into my life, if they still want to talk with me, maybe, just maybe, someday they will see the wrongness of the situation.  I still hold out hope that this is true.
So today I cry in my pillow for the son I lost, the church I lost, and the friends I lost.  And tomorrow I go to my new church and hope and pray that things will be different, better, from here on out.

The Vacuum Cleaner Got What It Deserved

Today was not a good day.  I decided that since my back has finally started feeling better I would get some cleaning done.  I HATE having things stick to the bottom of my feet so...I decided to vacuum.  Everything was okay on the carpets.  This vacuum does a beautiful job on carpets.  Hard floors...not so much.  Anything bigger than a speck of dust gets spat back at my feet while I am trying to vacuum.  Eventually, after running over the same room 5-10 times, it gets clean.  Usually.  Today, this was not meant to be.  The vacuum cleaner was the victim of my hormones and stress.  After yelling at it, which, by the way, does not make it work right, I unplugged it, carried it out the front door and tossed it on the lawn.  It would still be there except for the fact that my husband decided to keep it in the attic where the only floor that needs to be vacuumed is carpeted.  The vacuum cleaner was rescued, grass was picked out of it, and it is now residing in the storage area of our attic.  And I think it got exactly what it deserved.

He doesn't need me.

After learning about a friend's recent loss I have been appreciating my children more.  Last night I wanted to do something for them.  Jack got a light bulb for his sea creature (I am still upset by the fact that he is now on a bunk bed and I can't kiss him or even really see him when I check on him at night.)  I tucked both of the girls in and kissed them while they slept.  I told Jim this when I got into bed and then said that I did nothing for Nathan.  He told me that Nathan really didn't need anything from us.  I started crying and I am tearing up typing this.  It's just wrong that a baby doesn't need his mother.  I should be feeding him, changing his diapers, comforting him when he cries.  He doesn't need me to do any of those things.  But I want to so badly.  I want to kiss his soft little fuzzy baby head and rock him to sleep but I will never get that chance.  I miss him so much.  And no, right now it doesn't help to know he is in Heaven and isn't suffering.  Why does God need him there?  Why couldn't we raise him and watch him start a life of his own?  What purpose does his death serve?  I still worship God and I still trust Him but I have more questions for Him now than I have ever had before.  And it stinks that I won't know the answers until I get to Heaven.  I guess that's what faith is about.  Trusting Him even when life makes no sense at all.

I'm torn.

If I could just get a handle on my emotions for one day that would be wonderful.  Henry made it past the 21 week mark and I am so happy that he is healthy and growing.  I have 16 weeks before he gets here and a lot to do.  The doubt starts creeping into my head, though, and I start to wonder, "why bother, you won't get to keep this one, either."  I have no reason to think anything will go wrong.  He seems fine, he moves a lot (so much that he is already waking me up in the middle of the night.)  I feel like everything will be okay.  But....we did lose Nathan and I know that nothing is guaranteed.  So I cried for a little bit over the loss of Nathan and then I got up, got online, and ordered some things for Henry.  He deserves for us to be ready for him with everything he is going to need.  It's not looking good for a baby shower and we got rid of almost everything after Katherine so we have a lot to get.  Then there is getting the house ready and having meals ready in the freezer.  And figuring out who will watch the kids and who we need to call about Henry's birth.  And planning the next year of homeschooling because there is no way I'll have time to plan that after Henry gets here.  There is so much to do.  And soon I'll be spending a lot of time in the doctor's office.  The endocrinologist wants to see me once a month from here on out.  The doctor will be seeing me every other week after the next appointment.  I will start coming in every other week and then every week for a non-stress test and a biophysical profile.  Home, I will miss you.  And, Henry, we will do everything we need to do to get ready for your much anticipated and much longed for arrival.  I can't wait to meet you.

If it's not one thing.....

We had our 21 week ultrasound on Monday morning.  Everything looks great!  I was nervous about being sent to the same room where we were told that Nathan died but they didn't even send me down the same hallway.  God is up there pulling some strings to make everything a little easier on us.  I feel like we have made it across a gigantic hurdle.  Henry already weighs a good bit more than Nathan did and he's looking strong and healthy.  We are praising God for the good report. 
Now....on to the trouble.  We received a bill from the hospital for Henry's birth.  That's right.  Henry's.  Apparently they have calculated that I will owe them $1414.07 in costs for the delivery.  They know my out-of-pocket maximum is $1000 and that I have already paid some of that but they still want $1414.07 before I even set foot in the hospital.  I don't really feel like loaning the hospital almost $1500.  I am waiting on a call back from the lady in charge of this.  I think it's ridiculous to charge for something that hasn't even happened yet.  They can't even be guaranteed that I will deliver there.  Any number of things could go differently than planned.  But, they want their money before they do anything.  Not if I can help it.

I'm sad today.

I am 21 weeks with Henry today.  By this time, on this day Nathan's pregnancy, we knew he was gone.  I miss him.  Even with Henry obediently punching, kicking and wiggling away.  I am torn.  I love both of them and I wouldn't have Henry if Nathan had made it.  So here I sit, missing one and longing for what might have been while celebrating that the baby I am carrying is alive and well.  This pregnancy is full of conflicting emotions.  I feel excited to meet Henry and then feel guilty because I don't think I'm honoring Nathan.  I look forward to Henry's birth and look back on Nathan's with a sadness and longing I have never experienced before.  I ache to hold both my sons in my arms and know that I will only ever get to hold Henry.  My time with Nathan is done until I see him again in Heaven and I long to be there with him but I have 3 kids here and one on the way and I am needed here.  What is seeing Henry going to be like?  I am I going to be able to focus on him being his own person or will I constantly be reminded of what might have been with Nathan?  Will every smile and sigh remind me of how Nathan will never be?  This is so hard.  I sit here crying for the child I miss while feeling the child I am carrying move inside me.
Lord, give me the strength to make it through the day.  I miss my little boy.  Help me to be content knowing he is with You and no harm will ever come to him.  Help me hold on until I can be with him in Heaven some day.  Wrap your arms around me and hold me up because I don't think I can hold myself up right now.  I feel so weak.  Help me to be strong.

Poor Henry

I am such a super-paranoid mommy right now.  Our 21 week ultrasound is on Monday and I can't help but worry.  The poor little baby keeps getting jiggled and poked.  I just need to know he's still okay in there.  If I haven't felt him move in, say, 30 minutes, I have to do something to make him move.  If that doesn't work, it's off to use the doppler.  My middle child pointed out the other day that there are 4 more months until Henry is born.  I hope I make it.  And I hope that I don't scar Henry for life with all of that poking and jiggling.