Confused Grief?

I read an article today, another blog post written for Still Standing Magazine, called the "The Secret Competition in the Baby Loss Club." It helped me understand a bit more what's going on with my own grief and in my own heart currently.

I feel as though my miscarriage (my Anna) and my stillbirth (my Alfy) need to be compared to each other, like a competition. Which one was worse.  Is one more deserving of my grief than the other? Why am I physically and emotionally unable to grieve the same way for both? 

It's infuriating because I don't have an answer, at least not one my heart has been able to accept. I know, logically, that it is okay to grieve however is needed for both. But my heart is confused because it feels less this time. 

I HATE THAT.

I heard Anna's heartbeat, but I never held her, she wasn't birthed from my body in the same way as Alfy. I've just not felt the same connection in my grief. 

AND I HATE THAT.

I feel that I'm not giving as much of me to Anna as I did Alfy, as if somewhere in my twisted logic she isn't deserving of it. But she is. I just don't know how to express it this time around. It's just not the same.

HATE THAT.

Honestly, I almost would have preferred that Anna survived longer and resulted in another stillbirth versus a miscarriage. I would have had more time to connect and I know how to do stillbirth grief already. I'm not sure that it would have been easier, but it would have been familiar.

I HATE THAT TOO.

Who wishes for another stillbirth? I mean really? No one. 

Grief is so confusing at the moment, as if it's not there at times. I hope it is, just hidden under the surface waiting for the right moment to appear. 

That is what Anna deserves from her mother.

Extraordinary Connections of My Children

**Written on Monday, June 18**

Yesterday on the way home from church, we passed a cemetery. Vinny saw it and said, "There's Alfy." It wasn't actually Alfy's cemetery which I sort of explained to him but it didn't really matter. He will forever associate cemeteries with his brother, Alfy (and our cat Piper, who he also mentioned:). 

He then proceeded to ask about Baby Vinny, who is Baby V, who is now Anna June. We told Vinny that Baby Vinny was a girl and that she is Heaven too. He insists on calling her Baby Vinny, which is fine. But, what really opened my heart was his words after we tried to explain her name.

"Baby Vinny (Anna June), she loves me." 

Pointing at me with a huge smile on his face, "She loves you too!"

Do children have a connection to our dead loved ones that we do not? I've read about it, (like the book 'Heaven is for Real') and have even thought Vinny might dream of Alfy at times when he wakes up talking about him, but had not experienced it in such a profound way before. It's as if Vinny has already talked to her in his dreams or in some world that I, as an adult, cannot let go enough to enter. 

I hope he is connected that way. I hope he knows his siblings at a level that is beyond me. 

Our Newest Family Member - Anna June

**Written last Friday, July 15 - Apparently I have commitment fears/issues with publishing info about right away these days.**

I spoke with my doctor yesterday. She had gotten the results back from the genetic testing. 

I was very surprised to find out that they were able to determine the gender of the baby. The doctors found two X chromosomes, we were going to have a girl, we had a baby girl. 

It's been so hard to figure out grief and the celebration of life this time around (as if it weren't the last time). I feel most of society doesn't even consider the collections of cells that are my baby at 8 weeks, an actual baby, just a pregnancy. Some abstract term that makes it easier to bare if it dies. I think I even fall into those traps at times. 

But no, I had a baby, even if only for a mere 8 weeks past conception.

Her name is Anna June.

For me, for Tony, Vinny and Alfy, there is another baby. Alfy now has a sister in Heaven and Vinny has two siblings in Heaven, a brother, Alfy, and a sister, Anna.

I am at odds on how to begin to incorporate her into our world. I'm not even sure if there is enough of her to cremate after sending her off to figure out who she is. And if there is, Tony is insistent on finding a final resting place for her. I understand the desire, but if we bury her at Alfy's plot, there is nothing to signify that she is there too, other than some disturbed grass. At least in an urn, it's a physical piece that says she was and is here, part of our family. Either way, I'm sure we will find something that works, but it looks so very different.

I didn't give birth this time around either, which makes me question if June 27 can even be considered a birthday. I could have waited, and had a miscarriage at home, which is the equivalent of giving birth, just very early in pregnancy. But had I done that, I would not know Anna was a she, just a collection of cells that formed the early beginnings of our baby.

Instead, I opted for a D&E, I suppose the equivalent of an early c-section? I don't know. It's all different.

With Alfy, I consider April 6 his birthday and that is when I celebrate his birth. But with Anna, she would have been due the beginning of February and that is when I feel I will celebrate her, but how to do you incorporate that onto a marker in the cemetery? I have no idea. I don't know anyone who has done it.

There is just so much, new uncharted territory. I hate that we are experiencing this again and that it's so different. I never want my children to die, but I understand stillbirth more than I do miscarriage at this point. I suppose that is changing. 

I am open to ideas and suggestions from those that have been here as well.

Happy Birthday Alfy

Alfy's 4th birthday was last week and this post is coming a little late. I realize I've wrote less in the past year than I ever have since having him. I'm not taking the time and there seems to be so little of it.

Last week was much different than previous years. There was not much anxiety leading up to his birthday and I took the day off, as I always will if I'm able. I was almost feeling guilt for thinking I didn't feel sad enough. I didn't cry much and just hung out at home. Maybe I was distracting myself with the mundane? Not sure.

Either way, I can't believe it's been 4 years. It just does not seem possible that it's been 4 years since he entered the world already gone. I think of all the things that have happened in the past 4 years and am somewhat amazed I have survived it. But here I am.

I did a baby fair a little over a week ago for Count the Kicks. I suppose that was my way of celebrating Alfy's birthday without him, try to save a few more babies and mothers, fathers and families from heartache. I recently got some good news about CTK, the Nebraska Perinatal Quality Improvement Collaborative is looking to introduce CTK to all the providers they work and provide the materials to the providers free of charge. I suppose that is a big step considering almost all birthing hospitals in the state work with NPQIC.

Vinny after haircut #2, can't really tell! Alfy's grave at Easter.

Vinny is thriving and doing amazing. He is such a fun kiddo to be a parent to. He inquisitive and silly and loving. At night he tells you, "Sweep Dreams, Mommy" and when you tell him don't let the bed bugs bite, he says, "Okay!" 

We have some moments, going to school lately has been a bit challenging and he has a few fits here and there, but they don't last long and are usually not too dramatic. 

And, he finally seems to have stopped eating things like dog food and cat food. Whew! Overall, he's a joy to parent. My biggest concern at the moment is that I'm able to help him understand who Alfy is, his big brother who died, but also not let Alfy overshadow Vinny and let him be his own little being. I don't want know what's it like to balance the needs and personalities of two living children, but it sure is tough to do with one dead and one living child.

As always, here's to hoping I find more time to write this year about all the things I love and maybe some of things I don't love so much.

Letters to Alfy, 3rd Birthday

Dear Alfy,

Happy 3rd birthday in Heaven, by dear, sweet son. I am missing you so terribly today. I miss you everyday, but today, it touches a place that I cannot describe. My arms ache to hold you. My ears are deaf with silence instead of filled with your laughter. I miss you so much.

Dad and I think of you often. Your toybox sits on the living room, filled with the things we have for you. I will add your 3rd birthday card to it today. Don't be upset, I don't ever write in them, I'm not sure why, but it just feels better to leave them as they are for you. 

We are trying to teach your brother about you. I want to know his older brother is watching over him. I think you two would have been very different. I think you would have been much like Dad, dark olive skin, dark, dark brown hair and a smile that would light up the room. I think you would have been a bit more outgoing and a charmer, up for anything and a fantastic story teller. Your brother, well, he got my hair and light skin and is so much like me at times it's scary, shy and slow to warm up, stubborn, picky when it comes to food, but also full of love for those he cares about (as I'm sure you would be too). I wish you were both here to fill our home with your laughter and shouts and occasional fights. But, because you are not here to do those things, we will do our best to fill our home with you in other ways.

I'm going to try to start on some new adventures this year, adventures inspired by you and for you. I'll keep you posted on them, although I suspect you always know what's happening.

I hope all of our family is taking good care of you and really have no doubt they are. 

I love you, soooo much.

Mom