Small Acts of Kindness for Leo

I haven't posted in a long time, I know.  I have a lot to catch up on.  I wanted to start with where I'm at in the healing process.  I'm at a point where there are more good days than bad.  I still have hard days, I still miss Leo immensely (maybe even more each day) and think of him constantly.  I still am not ok with what happened.  That said, I think I've reached a place of acceptance that he's not coming back no matter how hard I wish we could and there is nothing I can do to change what happened.  This has been a long hard rode hard and I know it's not over.  There will be bumps in the road, there will be moments where I'm angry at the world or sobbing uncontrollably, there will be days when it's hard to get out of bed.  And you know what? That's ok.  Grief ebs and flows and it is something I have come to accept as part of my life.  I know that makes many uncomfortable and many want the grieving to end and everything to go back to normal, but that normal is gone.  This is the new normal.

Leo's birthday is coming up next month.  It's going to be hard. It's going to be intense.  It's going to hurt.  What I'm striving to do is recognize the pain, but focus on the joy he brought to our lives. We were so happy to be expecting our second child, Isabella was excited to become a big sister, I was thrilled to be pregnant again, and we were so looking forward to meeting the little guy.  Things didn't work out like we had planned, but were are still extremely grateful to have him as part of our family.

I would like to honor Leo as his birthday approaches, and I'm hoping you all will hope.  Now through September 10, 2013 we hope that you will participate in Small Acts of Kindness for Leo.  These small acts of kindness can be anything really, volunteer with the organization of your choice, help an elderly neighbor with household chores, or donate to charity in Leo's honor.  Anything really.  Then, let us know what you've done to honor Leo in whatever means you feel comfortable- comments, email, text, etc.  You can remain anonymous if you like.  Sometimes it just really helps to know that others remember Leo along with us.

Bereaved Mother's Day

Today, one week before Mother's Day, is International Bereaved Mother's Day.  This day's purpose is to acknowledge all the forgotten mothers; those of us who hold our children in our heart instead of our arms, and those yearn to have a child, but for reasons beyond their control have not yet experienced that joy.

Don't forget these mothers next week.  Mother's Day is a difficult day for many women; let them know they matter. If you know a woman who has lost a child as any age, or one who struggles with infertility reach out to her.  It can be as simple as a text, and email, or a phone call.  If their child had a name, use it.  Don't be afraid to talk about a lost child because it is often just what the mother needs.  I can't speak for everyone, but even though I miss Leo terribly, I find great joy in his memory and I am truly touched when someone acknowledges him in some way.  Many of us fear that our children will be forgotten.

I don't ask for myself.  Because of our beautiful little Isabella I know that I will always be recognized on Mother's Day, and I have some special people in my life who will always remember that I'm still Leo's mom too.  My heart goes out to all the women who struggle on Mother's Day.  Please remember that they are mothers too.

"Joy and life abound for millions of Mothers on Mother’s Day. It’s also a day of appreciation and respect. I can think of no Mothers who deserve it more than those who had to give a child back."
-Erma Bobeck  

 If you'd like to learn more about International Bereaved Mother's Day, parental bereavement, or are a bereaved parent yourself looking for support, consider visiting the links below.

Carly Marie Project Heal


STILL Project

Still Standing Magazine

Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope

February

Leo's due date is one month from today.  Several months ago I was really looking forward to the month of February, and now I'm absolutely dreading it.  I kind of wish I could crawl into bed and sleep until March 1.  Of course, these "milestones" will never end.  After this one passes we'll have the anniversary of when we found out I was pregnant, the first time we saw him on ultrasound, and of course his birthdate.  This one seems to cut particularly deep though, knowing that I should have a new baby within the month, but I won't. 

I will probably be a bit under the radar for the month of February.  I might still post here, but I'm going to avoid Facebook and the like for my own benefit.  If you need to reach me you can call, text, or email.  I know I'll be ok, but it will already be hard so I want to avoid anything that might add to that.

100 Days

100 days from now we will honor our baby boy's memory by participating in the annual March for Babies on April 27, 2013.  The money raised through this event will help fund research that could prevent other families from experiencing such a tremendous loss.  Please consider supporting the March of Dimes either by joining Team Leo David and walking with us, donating to our team's efforts, or through your own efforts.

You can find out more by visiting our team page below, or clicking the banner at the right.  We truly appreciate your time and support.

Team Leo David

March for Babies 2013

As some of you know, I have participated in the local March of Dimes chapter's March for Babies in the past. This year Clint and I decided to organize a team for Leo. If you are interested in donating or joining our team feel free to contact me or visit the link below for more information.

Team Leo David

The walk is still a few months away (April 27, 2013), but I am already so excited to do this for our baby boy.

Lessons from Leo: One

Sometimes you can't "move on."  Sometimes it is ok to simply move forward.

3 Months

Just Because
Just Because time has passed
doesn't mean that all is fine.
My sadness, and my grief
Hasn’t diminished with time.

Just Because I am smiling
doesn't mean that I'm not down.
I cry for my little baby
when no one is around.

You ask me how I'm feeling,
but do you really want to know?
The moment I try telling you
You say you have to go

How can I tell you,
what it's been like for me
I am haunted, I am broken
By things that you don't see

You ask me how I'm holding up,
but do you really care?
The second I try to speak my heart;
You start squirming in your chair.

Everyone avoids me now,
because they don't know what to say
They tell me I'll be there for you,
then turn and walk away.

Call me if you need me,
that's what everybody said,
But how can I call you and scream
into the phone,
My God, my child is dead?

No one will let me
say the words that I need to say
Why does a mother's grief
scare everyone away?

I am tired of pretending
as my heart pounds in my chest,
I say things to make you comfortable,
but my soul finds no rest.

How can I tell you things
that are too sad to be told,
of the helplessness of holding a child
who in your arms grows cold?

You cannot imagine
what it was like for me that day
to place a final kiss upon that cheek,
and have to turn and walk away.

If you really love me,
and I believe you do,
if you really want to help me,
here is what I need from you.

Sit down beside me,
reach out and take my hand,
Say "My friend, I've come to listen,
I want to understand."

Just hold my hand and listen
that's all you need to do,
And if by chance I shed a tear,
it's all right if you do to.

I swear that I'll remember
till the day I'm very old,
the friend who sat and held my hand
and let me bare my soul.

-unknown

Today marks 3 months since we said goodbye to our little Leo.  I found this poem soon after we lost him and it has always stuck out in my mind.  I am doing ok, and definitely much better than I was 3 month ago.  Just because I act "normal" it doesn't mean I've stopped missing him or that I don't still get down.  Grief is a life-long process. I will always miss him, I will always wish he were here with us. I miss him every second and I still tear up often, and that's ok. 

2 Months

Today marks two months since we lost lost our little Leo. I can't really find the words to describe the feelings behind the milestone, but I felt it was worth noting.  Life goes on, but it will never be the same.

Leo David

A lot has happened since my last post: another Mother's Day passed, Isabella ended her first year of preschool, Clint and I celebrated our fourth wedding anniversary, an eventful Father's Day came and went, Isabella turned three, Clint turned 29, Isabella started another school year, Heather turned 28, and Heather became a stay-at-home mom again. Then, there was the most significant event of all, within a few short months we said both hello and goodbye to our second child, our sweet little Leo David.

I've really struggled with finding a way to address this appropriately, or if I would even address it in such a public way.  Ultimately, the story is far too important not to share it. The experience has changed my life in a profound way; it is part of my story.  October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month, and today is a special day of remembrance.  Today seems like the right time to open up about loving and losing Leo. 

I've decided to share the most basic parts of Leo's story.  Maybe someday I will share a bit more, but for right now I'd like to keep those precious details to myself.  For now, here is the short version of Leo's brief, but treasured life:

We had talked previously about trying for a second child twice before, but ultimately put it off because the timing didn't feel right. This spring everything seemed to click and we got pregnant right away.  On Father's Day we found out that Isabella was going to be a big sister around February 28, 2013 and we were absolutely thrilled.  I was positive that we would have a little boy this time. 

From the the first positive pregnancy test something felt off to me.  I just couldn't seem to shake the feeling that something was going to wrong.  Six weeks in we had a bit of a scare and at 7 weeks I had my first ultrasound.  Everything looked good, the heartbeat was strong, and the baby measured a couple days ahead. 

My first prenatal appointment was in early August and once again everything checked out fine.  My doctor suggested I limit my activity because of some issues I was having. We ran a couple tests to check for complications and didn't see a cause for concern.  I basically laid on the couch and did nothing for the rest of my pregnancy because I still had the sinking feeling that something was wrong.

We had another scare at 13 weeks followed by another ultrasound.  The second ultrasound showed non-stop movement and a good, strong heartbeat.  The baby measured a full week ahead at this point. Soon after I started to feel movement and I saw my doctor for a regular appointment the next week. The little acrobat wouldn't stop moving long enough to find the heartbeat with a doppler so I had yet another ultrasound that showed a healthy baby with a strong heartbeat.

The following week I started to feel more and more like something wasn't right, but didn't really have the symptoms to back it up.  Thursday evening I thought I felt my water break so I headed to the ER.  Luckily, my OB was on-call and had me come up to labor and delivery where he confirmed that my water had broken.  We suspected that my water had broken due to some type of infection so I was admitted and started on antibiotics and fluids with the hope that I would be able to retain enough fluid to support the baby and that the leak would seal back up.

I was in the hospital for four days with regular ultrasounds and use of the doppler.  I continued to lose fluid until finally there was no longer enough fluid for our baby to develop.  I labored for several hours on Monday.  Leo David was born too soon on September 10, 2012 at 3:06pm.

By the time I delivered the placenta had started to break down.  Leo was delivered in perfect condition, looking just as a healthy baby of his stage should.  After the birth I had a D&C to remove the remaining tissue and prevent complications.  We held our son for one far too brief moment and were able to go home to Isabella later that evening.

The pathology reports confirmed an infection in the placenta, although I never had a fever or any other obvious symptoms of infection.  Tests confirmed that Leo was perfect and healthy. 

The days since have been tough.  I barely ate, drank, or slept at first and I felt like all I did was cry.  I honestly wondered if I would have even gotten out of bed if it hadn't been for Isabella.  I continue to get better emotionally, but I still have my bad days.  I don't expect those to ever really end, maybe just fewer and farther between.  I don't believe that one can ever fully recover from the loss of a child, no matter how old that child is when the loss occurs.  It will always hurt; I will always have the regrets, the doubts, and the what ifs.  Loss is part of my daily life now and I am learning to cope with it because I have to.  I am the mother of two children, one in my arms and one in my heart. 

It is particularly difficult to hear about or see pregnant women and babies right now.  It's not that they don't deserve their happiness, but it reminds me of what I've lost and the joy I should be experiencing right now.  I know several people due around the same time I was and that is hard, although it seems like everyone was thoughtful enough to have conceived a girl.   :)

I visit Leo often and make sure he has fresh flowers.  I'm reaching out for support when I need it and finding comfort in the kindness of friends.  I am finding ways to remember Leo and honor his memory.  I am doing what I can to keep busy and trying to be the best person I can be in all aspects of my life. 

Despite all the pain, I am lucky to be Leo's mom.  I am grateful for every single moment I had with him.  The day he was born was simultaneously the worst, and one of the best days of my life.  The memory of him brings a smile to my face, tears to my eyes, and an abundance of love fills my heart.