Madelyn's 3rd Birthday

This was our first year being alone on Madelyn's birthday. It has always worked out that we were with family. I definitely think I needed family those first couple years, but this year I felt ready for it to just be us.

The hardest day for me was not actually her birthday, but the day before, the 12th. The day I was in labor with her. I don't know if it was just suddenly hitting me that her birthday was coming or what, but I woke up just feeling raw. And I definitely cried. A lot. Haha. After a morning of being way too emotional, I decided to load Sadie into the car and drive up into the canyon to just get out and enjoy the sunshine and Sadie. She's a really good distraction.

It was just what we needed. During Sadie's nap I went through our box of Madelyn stuff and had another good cry. It was a therapeutic day.

The next day I was definitely still emotional, but not as weepy. Sadie and I got out to the park, then decided to get donuts. I craved donuts like nothing else when pregnant with Madelyn. So I felt like it was perfect. We brought some to Nathan too.

The day went on and the wind picked up and the clouds moved in and I suddenly knew we would not be having the calm, relaxing night in the park that I had hoped for, haha. I accepted it, but was still a little sad. Still, I got Sadie all dressed up in her sister outfit.

Her outfit KILLS me. Kelsey convinced me to buy it for Maddie's birthday last summer, and I am so glad I did. Nathan got home and we headed right out to try and beat the rain the best we could. We did beat most of the rain, but it was definitely windy and cold. We did the best we could, haha. Sadie loved having the balloons, and was a little confused about why we let them go, but she was still so cute. She kept saying, "bye boon" basically the entire night. I loved having us 3 together, wishing Maddie a happy birthday, and sending our balloons to heaven.

After the release, the rain REALLY started coming down, and we headed to dinner at Zupas. Another Madelyn pregnancy craving. We ended the night with frozen yogurt, and relaxing at home as a family. It was a perfect birthday. Kelsey took her kiddies for a balloon release, and so did Amanda. It always means so much when our sweet family participates in her birthday celebrations. Katie sent us some beautiful flowers, and Amanda and Brad gave us this beautiful, hand-painted picture! It makes me want to cry when I look at it. We have the best people in our lives. And we love our sweet little Maddie.

Dear Madelyn

Dear Madelyn,

I haven't written you a letter since your last birthday. I remember when I couldn't go a day without writing you. Three years is a long time. A lot has changed. But it also seems like it's been no time at all.

I feel like that quote I shared describes you perfectly. You were so small. So tiny. But you changed my entire life. You changed everything. You touched so many others during your short time here on earth. Your time here was short, but you left an impression that will never leave.

I remember how confused I was at the time you were taken away. We had felt SO strongly that it was time to start a family. I woke up in the middle of the night in July knowing that it was time to start. We had agreed we would wait until the fall, but I felt it so strong that I woke you up to tell your dad. After some prayers and thinking for a couple days, we started to try for a family. And what do you know? We were pregnant almost immediately. I felt that we were being blessed for the sacrifices we had made while your daddy had served the Lord. We were finally getting to have the baby we had talked about for years.

Then you were gone. And I had too many questions. Questions that hurt my heart. Questions that no one could answer.

Why had I felt so strongly that it was not only the time to start trying, but that we should start trying 3 months earlier than planned? Why had your dad felt the same way? Why had everything worked out so well and why did we get pregnant so quickly? Why did I have to carry the pregnancy for so long only to lose it? More importantly, why did I have to lose you at all?

Time goes on and it really does seem to heal things. I don't have all the answers, but the questions don't sting the way they used to. What does still sting is the what-ifs and the time lost. I had a much harder time on your birthday than I thought I would. Every time the emotions would consume me, it was when I would think about who you'd be today. You'd be 3. You'd be running and talking and learning so much. I wonder about who you would be quite often. What you would look like. What your personality would be like. I still think about all the time.

I also think about who I might be had I not gone through losing you. I would be less paranoid. Probably a little more optimistic. I would probably have a few less stress wrinkles. I wouldn't have a small piece of my heart missing. I might even be one of those people who doesn't assume the worst about every twinge and pain in pregnancy. But I also might not have the testimony I have today. I wouldn't have the deep rooted love for the plan of salvation and eternal families that I do. I wouldn't have the beautiful pain tying me to my savior and his sacrifice for me. I wouldn't have the deep connection I have with your daddy; a connection that can only come after you've been through hell together. I wouldn't have the appreciation I do for pregnancy and life and sweet little babies. I wouldn't have some of the friendships I have. The friendships that were forged through common pain. I wouldn't have the empathy I do for those suffering through similar things, and that empathy has brought me friendships and love and so many opportunities to serve.

I don't get to know who you'd be today. I don't get to see those tiny feet that changed my world grow bigger. But I get to carry the love I have for you forever. I get to continually learn more and more from your brief time here with us. And I get to become someone I wouldn't be had I not known you, loved you, and lost you. Things don't always make sense, but I believe we can always make sense of things.

Thank you for coming into my world 3 years ago, and changing me in ways I never knew I could change. Thank you for continually teaching me. I love you. I am so blessed to be your mother.

I love you. I miss you. I'll see you soon.

Love always,
 
          mommy

real talk

This pregnancy has been so incredibly different than my pregnancy with Sadie. Not just because this dude kept me sick for 23 weeks, made it hard to breathe by 20 weeks, and is now giving me the worst heartburn I've ever had. Aside from me feeling slightly like death many days, this has been such a smooth and calm pregnancy. 

When I first found out I was pregnant with Sadie, I checked for blood several times a day, almost expecting to miscarry. Then I got horrible pains in my side that took a couple ultrasounds to diagnose. (Turned out to be cysts). I emotionally distanced myself from the pregnancy until around 20ish weeks. I had a lot of guilt when I finally did connect with her. I cried a lot. I stressed a lot. I woke up in the middle of the night several times to sneak into the living room and check for her heartbeat on my doppler. I panicked anytime I didn't feel her every hour. We had a scare in her 28 week ultrasound when she seemed to have too much fluid on her brain. We went through several blood tests to find answers. She was flipped the wrong way. She had too much fluid. When we hit 33 weeks, I was pretty much in panic mode every day doing multiple kick counts and praying endlessly that this pregnancy wouldn't have the same outcome. Though it was physically an easy pregnancy, it was emotionally draining. 

This time around, I don't stress often. I have a doppler, but only used it a few times in the beginning. I haven't cried once about the fear of losing this baby. I don't feel guilt over being excited about him. I had one slight worry over not feeling enough movement, but it ended quickly. All his ultrasounds have shown everything looking perfect. He's flipped the right way. He has a normal amount of fluid. I don't panic over every little pain. I thought the other day, "Wow this pregnancy has been really calm and smooth. Nothing like Sadie's. Way more like.. Madelyn's.."

Then cue the panic that's been absent the past 7 months.

Suddenly I realized that I worried about losing Sadie the whole pregnancy, and I kept her. I didn't worry about losing Madelyn, and I did lose her. And now here I was, not worrying about losing the baby again. I'm stupid and a little superstitious, and suddenly I could see all these similarities between the two pregnancies. Then the worry came in. Madelyn was due about 2 weeks before this guy. All the dates and milestones have lined up with what I had before. It didn't help that this weekend was conference weekend. It was during the Saturday morning session of general conference 3 years ago that I can remember feeling the last really big movement from Madelyn. It's hard, but I always associate spring conference with that. I laid on the couch during the morning session yesterday doing kick counts and trying not to overthink. He moved more than plenty all day yesterday, but I still had that pit in my stomach. 

Nathan let me sleep in this morning. I woke up around 9, rolled over and was scrolling through my phone when I realized I hadn't felt the baby move yet. He usually wakes up right as I do, and that familiar feeling of panic and fear swept over me. I lay there for a second before whispering to Heavenly Father that I was scared, and I didn't want to be. I didn't want this peaceful pregnancy to turn into what I had before. I felt as if I might cry, when I suddenly got a big kick to my side. I couldn't help but smile. I felt my heavenly father's love for me, and I felt the sweet spirits of both Madelyn and this new guy coming to us. I felt peace that everything would be okay. 

I went onto spend the day listening to words of comfort and peace from the leaders of my church. They filled me with more comfort, and I knew, no matter what, I'd be okay. As I type this, my new little boyfriend is kicking away and I can't help but feel that I am going to get to know those little feet very well over the next few years.

The summer I never got

On Wednesday, I started getting a familiar feeling. A feeling that has visited me quite a few times over the past two years. A feeling that comes and goes; changing shape, but never really leaving: grief. Grief that stupid, unwanted visitor.

Sometimes I struggle with the fact that I still grieve over Madelyn. I feel like I am not supposed to. It's like since she never took a breath in this world, because she died before I really knew her, I should be over it by now. So when I get into these funks, my first thought isn't Madelyn. I always try to explain it away with something else. On Wednesday, all I wanted to do was be down town. In fact, I wanted to live down there again. It was so strange. I feel depressed that I lived in my awesome apartment in the cutest suburb you ever saw. I just wanted to live down town and I felt homesick for it. I loaded Sadie into the car and went down town. We found ourselves at Liberty park, and as I walked around and tried sorting through my feelings, I realized it wasn't necessarily down town I was missing.

It's what I was supposed to have there two summers ago.

The summer of 2013. The lost summer. The stolen summer. Is it possible to feel homesick for something you never got to experience? Because that's how I feel. I ache for the summer I never got. I would be a little embarrassed to admit how often I still think about it.

Summer has always been my favorite season. Growing up in Southern California, my summers were filled with perfect 80 degree weather, beaches, pools, sunsets, bike rides, friends, family, and non-stop sunshine. They were magical. Even though Salt Lake lacks the beach and it's much hotter here, I still love summer. Nathan and I pack our summers full of road trips and hikes and picnics. When we first found out we were pregnant, I was so excited to realize our baby would be there at the very start of summer. She wouldn't be able to do much, but I would spend my favorite season with my baby, and we would have a new adventure partner. I planned than summer out in my mind over and over. I fell asleep at night thinking about those first few months of her life. I bought her tiny rompers and sundresses. I found her a tiny bathing suit and googled tips for camping with babies. I dreamed about walking from our down town apartment, to have lunch with Nathan. We had baby sunscreen and a little hat to keep the summer sun off her face. We had her blessing date set. We were so ready for that summer. I knew it would be the best one of my life.

The hardest part of losing Madelyn, was losing what may have been. We hadn't lived life with her yet. We didn't have memories to look back on; we had the pain of memories-that-never-were. We didn't have to change the way we lived our daily lives, we had to adjust to the fact that our lives wouldn't be changing at all. I cried when I thought about the summer. I had obviously thought about her life beyond summertime, but I hadn't mapped it out. I didn't have specific events planned. I didn't have specific outfits ready for her to wear. The loss of that summer, the loss of what may have been, is something I can't really explain. Still, to this day, it makes my heart ache. I feel hollow and angry some days. I feel robbed. I think I always will. My aunt lost her baby at just a few days old almost 20 years ago. She recently told me it never goes away. It's both a sad and comforting thought. I don't want to forget Madelyn. But it's hard to wrestle with the emotions on the days they hit hard.

We left down town because the pain of the broken dreams we had built there, specifically in that apartment, were too much. I miss down town. Sometimes I get mad that her death ruined our perfect apartment and our city life. It was stolen from me, just like the summer. So something as easy as the thought of missing down town, can trigger a whole mess of emotions.

I have an amazing life right now. I really do love where we live. I love the people and things happening in my life right now. I love my husband. He was there with me when we lost our dream summer, and tried to have a happy one anyway. He held me when I cried on the days when our efforts failed. He is the best decision I ever made. I love our ward. I love our stupid cat. And I love my sweet Sadie.

It's no secret that she has healed me and filled every inch of my heart. I have no doubt that Madelyn hand-picked Sadie, and gave her specific instructions on what to do when she got down here to Earth. She is so mellow, so well-behaved, the best sleeper, always happy, and probably the cutest thing that has ever existed. We have been doubly blessed by having her. We lost one daughter, but we were blessed with one that's as close to perfect as I can imagine.

On the mornings I wake up with grief sitting on my chest, and thoughts of my stolen summer occupying my mind, I get to take my sweet Sadie, and live out the stolen adventures with her. I know how happy that makes Madelyn. I am more grateful than words can express that I now can have Sadie with me on those days when the "what ifs" are consuming.

They say time heals all wounds, but I don't think that's true. Time lessens the sting, but it doesn't heal. At least not completely. But I have the promise of the Gospel. I will get to see Madelyn again and be with her. And all the pain I felt will be healed.

Until then, I will take her little sister with me, and shower her with the love that broke my heart on April 13, 2013. And together we will live out all the "may have beens" until Madelyn can join us.

"The Lord compensates the faithful for every loss. That which is taken away from those who love the Lord will be added unto them in His own way. While it may not come at the time we desire, the faithful will know that every tear today will eventually be returned a hundredfold with tears of rejoicing and gratitude."

April

I was in a funk most of this month. April is a hard month.

I wrote earlier about how Madelyn's birthday snuck up on me. I loved being with my family, but it didn't really allow me time to prepare and grieve a little. Last year, it was the week leading up to her birthday that was hard for me. This year, it's been the weeks after.

We moved Sadie into her own room last week, and I cried the first two nights. I think that was sign enough that something was definitely up. Nathan kept reminding me that she was just across the apartment, but it wasn't that. "I didn't wait so long for a baby just to put her in the other room all night!" I cried like a dramatic baby. My first baby was taken away from me. Because of that, Sadie has almost never left my side. I realize I need to come to terms with that.

I have learned these past couple weeks that the best way to help me get over this April rut, is to think about, write about, and talk about Madelyn. That might seem strange and counter-productive, but it helps me so much. When I bury it down, I just end up sad and cranky. When I think about her, even the really hard parts, I feel at peace.

I am at a place now where the memories of Madelyn don't hurt like they did. Sometimes they make me feel a little sad, but most of the time it feels good to remember her, especially how much I loved her. I used to think about her every day, but life is so busy now, I don't miss her like I did. When I am allowed to miss her every once in a while, I feel better. I don't have it bottled up. It's not hidden away, causing me to cry when my baby is in a different room.
So today I am going to write down memories I have of her, and what happened, and the aftermath. Just little stories. They aren't really going to be super uplifting, but I want to get down the raw emotions of that time before they leave my memory completely. When I wrote Madelyn's story, it was still too hard to re-live many details. I want to have these details written. Even when they hurt, I want to remember them.
This is really a post for me, my healing, and my own history keeping, but read on if you'd like! Warning, it's going to be insanely long.

I remember the first time I heard about a stillborn. (Isn't that kind of a weird memory to have? As I look back, I really feel like I was being prepared for this my entire life). I was walking to a friend's house with a different friend. I was 8 years old. She told me that a few years back, the mom of the friend whose house we were walking to had a stillborn. She didn't use that word, but she said she gave birth to the baby when it was dead. I remember thinking how awful that was and it made me a little sick. As I got older I learned the term "stillborn," and new a few people who had them. It still seemed like the worst thing to me.
Some of the first people I told I was pregnant were my two work best friends, Brady and Kimese. They took me to lunch to celebrate. On our way back to the school, Kimese was telling her labor stories. Then Brady told us about his sister-in-law who had a stillborn. He told the whole story and then said, "I have no idea why I told you that story. That's an awful story to tell, I'm sorry." I laughed and told him it was fine. I didn't tell him that having a stillborn was already something I had thought about several times.
During Christmas, about 4 months before Madelyn was born, I was messaging with a friend who told me how happy she was that I was pregnant. I told her, "I just hope it all turns out okay." She thought it was so weird that I said that since I was past the "scary" stage for miscarriage. I told her about stillborns and she didn't even know that was a thing. She told me there's no way that would ever happen and it had to be super rare if she hadn't even heard of it.
Conference weekend (a few days before she was born) was really the last time I remember feeling BIG movements. There may have been more after, but I didn't pay much attention to them. It was the Saturday morning session, and Nathan and I were watching it in bed. She did a huge roll, then it felt like she kicked about 4-5 times in a row, really fast. I'd never felt her move like that before. I laughed and said, "Well Madelyn is enjoying conference!" I like to think it was at this point that she knew she was leaving soon, and she way saying goodbye.
Over the next day or two, I could tell something was different. She had lost all her energy. Just small movements here and there. Everyone said it was normal; that babies movements slow down at the end of a pregnancy. I don't blame any of these people who told me it wasn't a big deal. I could have gone in. I chose not to. Not blaming myself has been the biggest challenge to overcome. Although I know now, nothing could have saved her. My doctor believes she went quickly, and was gone before I even realized something was wrong.
The day I knew she was gone, I was supposed to go to my night class, and was in the parking lot waiting for my carpool. I called Nathan and told him movement had gone down even more. He told me to call the nurse and I did. She told me to head to the hospital. She told me, just like everyone else did, that things were probably fine. But I knew. I got out of the car and immediately started crying as I told the women in my carpool what was happening. They told me everything was fine. But I knew. That 30 minute drive to the hospital was excruciating.
I picked up Nathan, and I could tell he knew too. The nurse who started looking for the heartbeat thought everything was fine too. She was even a little rude to us at first. "People come in ALLLLL the time saying they don't feel movement in the last few weeks." But we knew. When she couldn't find the heartbeat, she suddenly softened a bit.
"Maybe you have an anterior placenta."
I knew I didn't have an anterior placenta. She went to go get an ultrasound machine.
She looked around at our baby for a little bit, but neither of us asked questions, because we knew. I didn't know it at the time, but Nathan said he could see the screen, and saw her heart. Her very still heart. She left to go get a doctor and I finally found my voice again, "Is something wrong?" I asked, hoping she'd tell me my gut was wrong.
"Maybe," she said. And she left.
The doctor came in and, again, we asked no questions. It was only a few seconds before she said the words still seared into my brain,
"It looks like, for some reason, this baby didn't make it."
I knew that's what had happened, but it didn't make the words any easier to hear. I stayed calm, asked a few questions about delivering. They told me we could start right then, or we could go home. We decided to go home and collect ourselves before beginning this. I am so glad we did that.
The second they left and shut the door, I cried like I have never cried before. It was loud, it was ugly, it was gut wrenching. I felt like someone was squeezing my heart. Nathan held me and cried the same type of a cry. I can't explain the pain I felt in those moments. I had never heard my husband cry before.
Our baby. Our little girl. Our Maddie. The baby I had wanted since I was a child. The baby we prayed for. The baby we already loved with all our hearts. The baby who had a room in our home filled with toys and clothes and an already set-up crib. She was gone. She was dead. She would never sleep in that crib. She would never take a breath.
I got back into my clothes from the cold hospital gown I was given, and I texted my mom. "We lost the baby." I couldn't bring myself to call her because I didn't think I could talk. "Are you joking?" She replied. Before I even had a second to respond she was calling me, and I knew I had to answer.
I told her everything, and I cried so hard. She asked if I wanted her to tell my sisters, but I said I would. A couple minutes later I texted back and told her to call them for me. I had lost my voice again. She said she was on the next flight out.
We headed home in near complete silence. I told Nathan I wanted a giant dirty diet coke from Sonic. Drinking caffeine didn't matter now. On our drive, Nathan called his mom, and she did her job to spread the words to his family. We got our drinks and drove home. Then we sat in our parking garage.
"I don't want to go inside. I don't want to see the nursery yet."
"I don't either."
"Let's go buy something."
It may seem silly, but it was the only thing that could distract me. It was around 7pm at this point, and we went to Walmart and decided we were going to buy a new TV. Our phones were blowing up, but I couldn't check them. Every text made me cry. It was almost funny to think about the news spreading around to all our loved ones, how everyone's hearts were breaking for us how they were all reaching out; and we were sitting in a Walmart contemplating buying a new TV. People walked all around us, just having another normal day. I was experiencing the least normal day of my entire life. Strangely, it felt good to be be surrounded by people who didn't know how our lives were being ripped apart, and ignoring the calls and texts from the people who knew. Almost like it wasn't real. We lived in a different world in that little TV section.
We stared at new TV's forever, but left the store empty handed. The TV section of the down-town Walmart still makes me a little queasy.
We got Del Taco and took it home.; finally having the courage to go inside. Neither of us ate our tacos.
Nathan walked over to our white board calendar and erased the big words on the side that said, "MADELYN COMES NEXT MONTH!!!" He also crossed off "prenatals" on our shopping list.
"We still need those," I said. "We will get pregnant again soon."
Nathan didn't say anything.
I told Nathan I didn't want to hold her after she was born. In fact, I didn't even want to see her. I basically said I wanted to pretend it never happened. We would get pregnant again, I told myself, and we would name her Madelyn. We would start over and we didn't have to even think about what was happening. I was in complete denial. I wanted to pretend she had never existed.
We stood in her nursery and cried that night, holding onto the one thing we had left: each other.
I took a shower and took a sleeping pill. I wanted nothing more than to black out into dreamland and not notice my giant baby bump that wasn't moving at all.
We woke up early the next morning and packed a hospital bag. We ate a huge breakfast at Kneaders and I tried not to cry in public. I was doing better than I thought I would.
We went up to the front desk and everyone already knew who we were. The way they said, "Hiiii," in that sympathetic, drawn-out way, made me start crying immediately.

We got things started and my little sister showed up with bright red, puffy eyes. I cannot tell you how much it meant to have her there. She stayed the entire day. My mom joined a little later. Having them there was a good distraction. We even laughed. I was still in denial a bit, still telling myself I didn't want to see her.
The nurse asked when I wanted my epidural. I asked if I had to wait until a certain point.
"You can get it right now if you want. You don't have to be brave today, sweetie."
I appreciated her kindness, but I thought it was ironic. I was about to give birth to my dead baby. I had no other choice but to be brave.
That night, I got a new nurse. She'd had a stillborn a few years back. She was so sweet. I felt like if she could have a stillborn, and still work as a delivery nurse, I could make it through.
The night came, and I hardly slept. The morning came, and so did Madelyn. I felt a little rushed since she came just minutes after I woke up, but honestly, nothing can prepare you for giving birth in a silent room. Nothing can prepare you for your doctor laying your lifeless infant on your stomach. Nothing.
 I had changed my mind about holding her, and I am so glad I did. She was beautiful. She had my nose. She had lots of hair. And I loved her so much. Everyone in the room got to hold her, and then Nathan and I spent some time alone with her. Nathan said a sweet prayer and gave Madelyn's body a blessing. Giving her back to the nurse and watching her be wheeled away was the hardest moment of my life. There was no life in Madelyn, but her body was the only thing I had left. And then it was gone.
We had to make a lot of big choices that day, choices I wasn't ready to make. We chose not to bury her body and have a funeral. We chose cremation instead. This was a really hard choice, and still hurts my heart a bit today, but I know it was right. We prayed about it, and really came to terms with it. We knew we couldn't drag out the goodbye any longer.
Another decision was made that I really do regret, and it still makes me cry to this day. A photographer takes free pictures of stillborn babies. I said no. They asked a couple times, and I declined. I was still in denial at that point, thinking the pictures would make it harder. We have a few iPhone pictures of her, and that's it. My heart aches for more pieces of her. I don't think I will ever not regret that decision.
Nathan and I laid together in the small bed in the recovery room and I prayed and prayed that they would let me leave. After a couple hours, they finally did. I tore a little, but it wasn't bad. On the way home we picked up more diet coke. Then we went home, and we started the new, baby-less life we never planned on.

I used to wonder how people wake up in the morning after losing someone you love. But you do wake up, because you don't have a choice. You wake up every single day and just hope it was a really bad dream.
Everyone told us how strong we were, and I hated it.
I wasn't strong. I cried everyday. When I said my prayers, I told God how mad at him I was. I never left the house. I became a shell of my former self. Food didn't taste good. I couldn't listen to music. I wasn't strong. I was barely surviving.
They also told me, "I could never do it."
But guess what, if it happens to you, you don't have a choice. You have to do it. It made me feel so stupid, as if I wanted this challenge because I knew I could do it. I can tell you, most of the time, I didn't think I could do it.
That Spring was hard. Flowers and gifts rolled in that made us smile for a minute. We have about 30 vases from all the flower arrangements we received. It's a beautiful and sad collection. We ate out a lot. It was like dinner was the only thing I had any control over. We didn't go out much besides to get food. I went back to work, and my kids helped give me purpose and joy again, though my heart still ached. We got a cat who hugged me and I held her in Madelyn's nursery and cried. Mother's Day rolled around a few weeks later, and I couldn't bring myself to go to church. My birthday was 2 weeks later, and Nathan asked me what I wanted. "A baby," I said, and I started to cry. Her due date was a few days later. It felt like the painful dates would never end. Spring is supposed to represent new life. Mine was painted with death.
Summer came, and I put on a good face. I cried a lot, but I had hope in the future. We tried for another baby as soon as we could, and it wasn't happening. I have shared that story before. It was hard. Really, really hard. The strength and hope I felt over the Summer crashed hard in the Fall. I was depressed and defeated. I can see now, I wasn't ready for a baby. Sadie was anxiously waiting until I healed before she came. And she came the minute I did.
On Thanksgiving, we went on a walk around the Merkley's property in Idaho. I walked up a hill by myself to look at the sunset. I thought aloud, "Why can't I get pregnant." I instantly had the words pop into my head, "Because you have to let me go first." I knew what I needed to do. And I did it.
In the next few weeks I also worked on letting go of the obsession to get pregnant. I stopped going in for the ovulation blood tests. I stopped trying to time everything perfectly. I told Heavenly Father I was okay with whenever he wanted. Winter came. And so did Sadie.
I had lived all 4 seasons without Madelyn. I had survived.
Spring came again, and I felt the first kicks of Madelyn's little sister as she grew inside me.
That Spring was painted with with rebirth. With new beginnings. With life.
And I was healed.

two little girls

I am sitting here crying over the news that someone I don't even know has lost their baby at 24 weeks. She has battled infertility and had several miscarriages, and I can't help but think about the unfairness of it all. I know it will all make sense one day, but I am surrounded by too many amazing women who deserve babies and can't have them. While simultaneously having to see some people pop out babies like it's no big deal. It weighs on my heart. It' been nearly 2 years since we lost Madelyn. People just assume it's part of my past. "You have a new baby now, why be sad?!" But I feel like I will always identify with the bereaved mother.

But I also go around with some strange form of survivors guilt. Why do I get to have a baby? I am so happy and feel so blessed, but I can't help but remember how it felt all those months while I watched other people enjoy what I had lost. I hated those months. It was so hard to try and feel happy for people, but really just be sad and angry. Then you get to feel guilty for feeling sad and angry. Now I am feeling guilty that I no longer have to feel sad and angry. It's so hard. I want to give everyone a baby. I honestly pray that everyone trying to have a baby will get pregnant. It may sound kinda silly, but after what we went through, it's an honest and pure desire of mine. It's strange that my life has very much moved on, and it hasn't at the same time. I'm not in a dark place anymore. I am the happiest I have ever been. But it's a different kind of happy.

I told Nathan the other day that the last couple months before we lost Madelyn were the most care-free of my life. I don't mean that I am not insanely happy right now, because I am. I am the happiest. But I will never be so naive and care-free. Life will never be that simple and easy. That makes me sad. I feel like once your heart has seen a certain amount of darkness, it can't go back. I lost the thing that meant most to me in the world. I gave birth to and held my dead daughter. I was trapped in a never ending pit of depression. I didn't go a day without gut-wrenching crying for nearly 9 months. You can't 100% come back from that. You can't go around thinking life will always be sunshiney, because it won't. I have lived my days without the sun, and I know they will come again in different forms. Maybe that's an awful attitude to live with, but it's what I've got.

I carry it all with me now; with Sadie. I am constantly paranoid about losing her. I always thought that once she was out, I would feel more calm. I definitely do to an extent, I can see her and know she's alive, but it's still hard. She wears a little sensor to bed that goes off if she stops breathing, and even with that on, I still check to to make sure she's breathing every time I wake up. It's annoying to worry so much, yet nothing hurts me more than someone who accuses me of being crazy or overly paranoid. Or laughs at my worries and fears. I always bite my tongue, but all I really want to say is that they can have an opinion once they have given birth in a silent room and cried tears over an empty body that will never take a breath. It's not something you can even begin to understand until it's happened to you. I guess I should honestly be grateful that paranoia is the worst thing that I still carry with me. Sadie has healed a lot of the wounds, but the scars aren't going anywhere. For some reason, some people think I should have forgotten it all now that Sadie is here. It's like they don't remember crying with me. It's like they think it was some bad dream to be forgotten.

Then there's the pregnancy fear. Honestly, if Nathan would allow me haha, I would have another baby yesterday. I know my body needs a break, but gosh I just want another baby. But when I actually think about being pregnant, I feel sick to my stomach. If my second pregnancy had gone smoothly, I think I wouldn't be so scared, but it didn't go smoothly. There was the problem with her brain ventricles, then the down syndrome scare, then she had too much fluid, then the awful day at 38 weeks when she stopped moving, then her heart rate was plummeting every few minutes, then she presented the wrong way and I ended up with a c-section. My nurse told me that she thinks we would have lost Sadie had I not gone in that day. I know she meant that as comforting, but all I thought was, "Why do my babies keep trying to die?" There's no explanation for Madelyn's death, and there was no explanation for why Sadie's heart was failing. It's a monster with no name or face. I have no idea why my pregnancies end so scary. It could be just a fluke, or it could be that every pregnancy will end this way. There's no way of knowing. That's terrifying.

But I have Sadie. She's here. She's safe. She's everything. And she makes my heart lighter every day. She helps me see that it will all be okay. (Even if I do have to endure another 9 months of paranoia). I don't really know what this post was about. Mostly it's that my heart is full of so much love, while simultaneously filled with worry and missing Madelyn, and that can be confusing. Sometimes I have to type it out before I even realize it was bothering me. It's hard to have two little girls in your heart, and only have one here with you. But I am also so thankful for those two little girls. They've stretched my heart quite big.

Liberty Park

Before I start this blog post I want to make a disclaimer. I get emotionally attached to things, places, and ideas. So this emotional blog post about a park may seem funny to some people. But that's just the who I am! I am way too sentimental about pretty much everything. Just accept it.

ANYWAY.

My favorite park in the entire world is Liberty Park in down-town Salt Lake City. The park is massive. It covers several blocks. It has a giant lake on one end, filled with ducks and geese and a little island in the middle. It has carnival rides. It has a giant gazebo. It has an aviary. It has a splash park. It has a few playgrounds. It has volleyball courts. It has a pool. It has tennis courts and basketball courts. It has a greenhouse.  It has running and biking trails. It has tons of picnic tables. It has immense amounts of open grass area. There could be a million people at the park, and you'd never feel crowded. There is always an area for you to be alone.

Nathan and I have spent more time at this park than I could possibly try to figure out. From the moment we started dating, it's been our park. We've had birthdays there. We've had countless picnics. We've played soccer there. We've walked around and talked for hours. We've gone to sit. We have even had some good cries there. Okay, I've had some good cries there while Nathan comforts me, haha. 

This is how much we love this park. This was taken the week before Nathan left on his mission. We wanted to have 1 last picnic there. It was DECEMBER. We froze our freaking butts off.

When he came home, we still spent just as much time there.

Then I got pregnant with Madelyn, and the park became something more. I walked around it most of my pregnancy, except when it was too freaking cold, and I dreamed about my baby. I saw all the moms and dads pushing strollers around. I saw the kids playing on the playgrounds. I was so excited! Nathan and I had wanted to start a family for so long, and it was finally happening. Those last few weeks before she was born, I walked around the park every day and got more and more excited for our future.

When Madelyn died, I had trouble going to the park for a while. It represented everything I had lost. There were too many happy families playing there. There were too many babies being pushed around the paths that I had longed to push my baby around. It wasn't fair. We went to the park only once the entire summer, and that was because it was Pioneer Day and there were a bunch of food trucks there. We didn't walk around the park and I kept my eyes away from any of those stupid, happy families trying to ruin my day. (jk guys, jk)

It was almost a full year of me not visiting the park when we started going back in March. I was pregnant again, but it was still hard. We first just would eat at the picnic tables and then leave. Then one time, we walked around. And everything was fine! I felt happy and excited again. Everything was going to be okay! In fact, as if it were a good omen, my best friend was sitting by the lake and I ran and snuck up on her. 

 Since then we've been regulars back at Liberty Park. And just this past weekend, thanks to some gorgeous January weather, I got to walk my little baby around the park, hand-in-hand with my sweet husband. I was finally the mom getting to push the stroller. We even got her out to play for a tiny bit. My heart was full. It still is.

It's been a long road to get here. And it's really not about the park. It's not about grass and the long pathway that leads all around it. It's about what the park represented to me. Like it was a rite of passage into motherhood that I longed for for years. I am so thankful I get to push my stroller around that park. I am so thankful for the human inside that stroller and the man walking beside me.

raising a baby after stillbirth

Last week Madelyn would have been 18-months-old.

It's weird to me to think that I should have an almost-toddler running around this house.

There's times when I still really miss her, but then I feel guilty because if she was here, Sadie wouldn't be here yet. And then I feel guilty. I've heard of "mom guilt" before, but this is a weird kind.

It's been easier than I thought to have a baby after losing Madelyn. In other ways it has been harder. Sadie looked so much like Madelyn did when she was born. I wasn't expecting that. I am thankful that Sadie's face has filled out and begun to change, because I would have weird flashbacks looking at her. Especially while she slept. Both Nathan and I would get a heavy feeling in the pit of our stomachs sometimes. Sadie sleeping, looked much too much like Madelyn did as she laid lifeless in our arms. It's a horrible thought, but we both voiced that thought several times.

"She looks so still when she sleeps. It bothers me sometimes," Nathan said one night and tears sprang to my eyes. We've had enough still babies for one lifetime. Your sleeping baby is supposed to look peaceful. To us, the sight of our sleeping baby was scary.

As she's grown, it is now very easy to identify Sadie as 100% her own person. She isn't Madelyn. She is very much alive. She is beautiful and angelic and perfect. Watching her sleep doesn't bother me anymore, and I am so glad. Because she's so freaking cute when she sleeps.

We still miss Madelyn. More, we miss what could have been with Madelyn. But we are so thankful Sadie is here and despite all the heartache, I know this is how things are supposed to be. I wouldn't change anything.

I have always wondered how or if we would incorporate Madelyn into our children's lives. I have always wanted to, but I know some people think it's strange. Some people see Madelyn as a body lost, but I know she had a spirit. I have also had experiences that tell me that Sadie and Madelyn are two different spirits. That's enough to make me feel strongly that we should remember Madelyn in our family in whatever way we can.

My sister-in-law, Amanda, sent us this precious onesie shortly after Sadie was born. The words still bring tears to my eyes. 

"Handpicked by my sister in Heaven."

I love it so much! I really do think Madelyn and Sadie were up there together. I can remember one night last January when I was feeling incredibly low, and I was pouring out my heart to God. I felt like Madelyn was there or at least listening in some way. I felt comforted, like she was asking me to hold on for a little bit longer. It was the most at peace at had ever felt since losing Madelyn. So i followed that feeling and told myself to just hang on a little longer. Three weeks later I found out I was pregnant. I think that night Madelyn finally decided to send us her little sister. We finally got Sadie, and my heart finally healed.

For the pictures I decided to get out Madelyn's hospital blanket and taken them on that. I am glad I did. Afterwards, I went through some of the things in Madelyn's box and talked to Sadie about her. I felt a little crazy, but it felt good at the same time. It's crazy to be on the other side of all this. Last winter was the hardest of my life, and now I am enjoying one of the best. It's crazy the difference a year can make.

I am so thankful for this beautiful baby of mine. Sometimes I can't believe she's here. She is everything I could have ever hoped for. She has healed my heart and filled it more than I thought possible. I am also thankful for her older sister and the short time I got to spend with her. And thankful she finally decided to send down a sibling. She really did pick a pretty dang cute one.

pregnancy after stillbirth pt. 5

BOOM. Just like that, the pregnancy is almost over. I can't believe it's almost time to meet this little girl. I can't believe it's been 9 months. I can't believe how crazy it's all been. I am going to try to get all my thoughts out in a manner that flows and makes sense. But keep in mind, I have pregnancy brain. And a lot of emotions.

It was hard surviving the "scary weeks" but I felt so relieved afterwards. It's like that's when I was finally able to really connect with this baby. I started to get so excited! We finally named her. I felt like she had a distinct personality different from Madelyn's. I let go of a lot of fear. But that also meant letting go of a lot of Madelyn.

I have been paranoid and worried this pregnancy. At times, it kept me from fully enjoying it. It didn't help that weird and random things kept happening.
Really bad pain in my ovaries: Just some little cysts. 

Too much fluid in the brain: After thousands of dollars in testing, it turned out to be nothing.

Strange heart accelerations: After hours of being hooked up to a machine, it turned out to be nothing.

Too much amniotic fluid: After a thorough ultrasound, it turned out to be nothing.

Not to mention or continually flipping from breech to transverse to head down and back again.

Seriously?

As if this pregnancy wasn't stressful enough.

It always makes me laugh because I have very easy pregnancies physically. I am still in very little to no pain at almost 38 weeks. I sleep fine. (when I don't get insomnia) We still go on several mile long walks. I don't get heartburn. I don't throw up- not even in the first trimester. My bump grows right on schedule. My weight gain is always right on schedule. I don't get swollen. I have felt only 3 Braxton hicks contractions ever. Never had any nerve pain. I don't get the classic pregnancy symptoms. But all the weird, random things happen to me! Come on babies! Give me a break.

But after we had a good ultrasound and we got our induction date, all the ups-and-downs of this pregnancy faded and I just felt excited. All the fear during the beginning of this pregnancy kept my mind on Madelyn. I was too scared to get too attached to this new baby. But now, I am more attached than I could ever imagine. And I've been missing Maddie less and less.

When I realized this, my heart broke. It should be a good thing! Moving forward; letting go of fear. But it terrified me to forget her or lose her in any way. I felt her slipping away from me and I hated it, but I didn't want to go back to the sad and paranoid Kaitlin. It's a double-edged sword. And it sucks.

But a few experiences this week have taught me that while it is time to move on and let go, I don't have to lose Madelyn. And I never will! I am going to get a little personal in sharing this experience, but I feel like I should. So here it is!

We have temples in my religion, and every time a new one is opened, we have a special church meeting where it is dedicated and some of our church leaders speak to us. This past weekend, the temple in Ogden was dedicated. I am so glad we went to the 1 PM session, because I heard exactly what I needed to hear. Dear, sweet President Eyring spoke about the blessings of temples and eternal families. This is obviously a doctrine very near and dear to my heart, and I was already feeling the spirit and feeling closer to Madelyn. Then I watched as he got very choked up; more emotional than I have ever really seen an apostle. I started to wonder what he was going to say that had him so emotional. He then shared that in the Ogden graveyard, is the grave for a sweet granddaughter he has that he never got to hold in this lifetime. The tears immediately spilled from my eyes and I felt as if Maddie was right there with me. It's the closest I have felt her in months. He shared how happy he was to know that he would one day get to hold her and know her and love her. I knew right then that Madelyn is my daughter, and nothing is going to change that. No matter how much time passes or how many kids I have or even if I go a little while without thinking about her. She is mine and I am hers and we will be together forever. I got the sense that she was very busy with work of her own, and that she was happy that I was moving on and bringing her little sister in the world. I am so thankful for eternal families!

I looked at my pictures of Madelyn that night for the first time in a while and just smiled. She looks a lot like the 3D ultrasound pictures we have of this second one. I realized I loved baby #2 just as much as I love Madelyn, and that's okay.

I'm still that annoying person who reminds people that this is my second child. I still discuss my pregnancy and labor of Madelyn like it was normal and didn't end horribly and I can tell some people think it's weird. (Hey, I already pushed one human out of my vagina. That's a big accomplishment. I'm not gonna act like it didn't happen!) We have pictures of her in our house. I thank Heavenly Father for her in my prayers. I may be overjoyed for the impending birth of #2, but #1 still has a huge place in my heart. I think that's what I needed these 9 months for- figuring out how to fit them both in there. How to honor one, while welcoming the other. How to love them both equally without feeling guilt. I am sure it will be an up-and-down battle through the years, but I think I am getting it figured out pretty well right now.

I am just so thankful for both these little girls.

I'm a lucky mama. My heart is full of love.

Madelyn at 6 months. New baby at 9 months.

Both at 34 weeks. Madelyn on left.

Both at 15 weeks. Madelyn on left.

surviving the scary weeks

My whole pregnancy, I thought the 34th week would be the scariest.

It was at 34 weeks that we found out that Madelyn had died and then delivered her.

But the past couple months, as I have met with high risk specialists and other doctors, I have learned a bit about my first pregnancy that I didn't know before. (I never had an official consultation after her death since they couldn't find a reason for her passing).

Madelyn was small for 34 weeks. Very small. In fact, they think she stopped growing the 32nd week, and died toward the end of the 33rd week. I hit 34 weeks the day before we found out she had died. So I just always tied 34 weeks to her death, but it turns out the problems that caused that 34 week delivery actually happened before that.

So weeks 32 and 33 then became my scary weeks.

I had an ultrasound and a non-stress test during the 32nd week. Could not have been better timing! The doctor told me she was perfectly healthy and even measuring ahead. She passed her non stress test with flying colors and I scheduled one to come back every single week until I deliver.

I hit 33 weeks and had a regular doctor appointment and another non-stress test that week. Both went perfectly.

And today I hit 34 weeks, 4 days. I survived the scary weeks. 34 weeks still puts a little fear in my heart just because it's the number I always associate with Maddie's death, but I had a non stress test today, and have a doctor appointment on Thursday. So I should be sufficiently reassured :)

I am so thankful for the extra monitoring I have gotten this pregnancy. It has put my mind at ease so much and brought so much peace. I work with the best doctors and nurses. I really think every pregnant woman should get this much monitoring to be honest. It's the best.

I delivered Maddie on 34 weeks, 3 days. So I am officially past the date, and the most pregnant I have ever been. It's crazy. It's a relief, but still scary. Nathan and I always used to talk about how it sucked that we had to do the whole pregnancy thing over again. We just wanted to jump to 34 weeks. And now we're here!

A little update on this lady:
+ I say it over and over, but she moves like a maniac. She is way bigger than Madelyn ever was, so it's crazy to experience for the first time. She goes for long periods of time too. There was one night where she going so crazy that Nathan could feel her movements just from laying on the same bed as me. She went on for so long I had to get up and jog around the apartment because the jogging puts her to sleep. She's a little nut job. And I love it.
+ What I do not love is that she is freaking BREECH. Even better? She flipped head-down on Friday. I had feet in my ribs. It was awesome. But don't worry. She flipped back to breech on Monday. Stubborn lady. My doctor gave me all kinds of exercises to do to get her to flip. I have been doing them religiously. A c-section scares me. I know that no matter how she comes into the world, as long as she's safe I don't care. But guys, I am a pain WUSS. And I need to pack, clean, and move in the weeks after this girl is born. Not gonna be possible after major surgery! So pray that all these awesome exercises work.

I cannot tell you how uncomfortable this is.

Lady thought I was weird. 

I am supposed to do this for 30 seconds, 3 times a day. I can only last 10 seconds. Being upside down and pregnant is awful.

Here my hips are elevated on a bunch of pillows, I have ice on the top of my uterus, heat and light at the bottom. We also play music at the bottom. This exercise always makes her go transverse. If only she would turn a little more!!!!!

I also go swimming a lot, which is funny. I am supposed to do handstands and squat at the bottom of the pool and blast off to the surface. It's embarrassing. But I will do anything to get this baby to flip. I also crawl around on all fours and do some interesting hip moves. But you don't get to see pictures of that.
+ She's measuring just a little ahead which we love. They will induce me (or schedule my c-section, ek!) at 39 weeks, so I want her to be a bit ahead. 

+ Like I said, I've been having weekly non-stress tests. I like these. They are so quick; only 20 minutes as long as she's active which we know isn't a problem. I like the nurses who work with me. I LOVE just sitting and listening to her heart beat for 20 straight minutes. I also reaaaaally love that they do a quick ultrasound every time. They measure her fluid and make sure everything is okay. And they always show me cute angles of her. It's awesome.

My view. The chair is so comfy. Just relaxing and listening to my lady's heart.

This little screen measures contractions and heart rate. Heart rate is red, contractions are blue. I was hooked up to this while in labor with Madelyn and I remember how depressing it was to see no red line. That top part was just blank as my contractions got bigger and bigger. I remember wishing the computer would just suddenly pick up a heart beat. It's pretty wonderful to see that red line so steady and strong now. (Ps. It looks like I had a big contraction at the beginning of the test, don't worry, that was mistake haha).

+ Morning sickness kinda came back for a while. It's mostly gone now, but in its place is just a weird appetite. I am still always hungry, but NOTHING ever sounds good! Not even my usual things like cereal and grapes. Everything just sounds gross. (Except peanut butter. I think I have eaten 12 jars of peanut butter this pregnancy). It makes for interesting meals. I will cook my husband a nice dinner, and then I'll eat things like this:

+ One day a week ago I had reaaaallly bad morning sickness. Like barf and stuff. I was in bed all day. Nathan asked what he could bring me that would make me feel better and instantly I knew what I wanted. And it made me feel better!

Caffeine free diet coke and a chocolate milkshake. IT SERIOUSLY WORKED.

+ I am still pretty comfortable and thanking my lucky starts for that. The most I can complain of is how it gets hard to breathe when I sit for too long. I have mild hip soreness, but I stretch twice a day and it's really not bad at all! It kept me up at night with Madelyn. I don't notice it now.
+ No swelling besides my hands when it gets hot. I am really glad my feet and ankles don't swell much. I might be taking these words back later, but there hasn't been even a little bit of swelling the entire pregnancy. No stretch marks either. Knock on wood.
+ Despite no stretch marks, I have definitely gained weight, haha. I won't even tell you how much, just know I am within the "normal" limits, but definitely toward the high-normal than the low-normal. Oh the joys of being fat!
+ We got to see the progress on our awesome basement apartment. It's going up fast and we are excited! We took a picture of the little lady and I in her new room.

+ She still gets hiccups all the time. Now that she's so big, sometimes they shake my entire stomach.

+ She still doesn't have a name, haha. And people just need to stop asking!

+ The closer we get, the more we have started to "train" Lady. Basically, we stopped spoiling her so much. That sounds mean, but you probably don't know my cat. She wants to be held all the time. Picked up, and held. And she will yell at you until you do it. She wakes us up a lot at night. She demands treats and demands to eat everything we eat. She lays down and stretches out and meows and meows until you rub her belly. She needed some training. She is adjusting to some things, but does NOT like the not picking her up thing. She climbs up me and everything. It's awesome.

+That was a Lady update, not a baby update. I think that means I have updated all I can!

34 weeks, 4 days!