Quietly...

How quietly he
tiptoed into our world.
Softly, only a moment
he stayed
but what an imprint
his footprints have left
upon our hearts.
~Unknown

Remembering our precious son, ~Seth Allan~, who was born sleeping nine years ago today. You are always remembered and forever missed.

~Love your mommy

~Seth~

In memory of our baby boy, Seth Allan, who received his angel wings seven years ago. Not with us, but with us. We'll always love you.

A Mother to her Child

You dwelt beneath my longing heart,
cherished and soft and warm.
And though you won't go home with me
Where you are, there'll be no harm.
For such a very little while
was my poor heart your home,
and then you left me, precious one,
in Heaven's fields to roam.
No tears shall ever dim you eyes,
no heartache pain you sore,
no sin will stain your lovely soul,
spotless forevermore.
So, Sweet, I will not grieve too much;
not hopeless are my tears.
You there, I here, both loved by God,
both safe through flying years.
And He who carries tenderly
the wee lambs on His breast
Will one day give you back to me,
rapture undreamed, unguessed.

*Martha Snell Nicholson, c 1951

Remembering my sweet baby boy...

…an angel, a dream lost, a precious gift. Although gone too soon, he taught me so many things about myself, my husband, my friends, about love and loss, about caring and compassion…about life.

Seth Allan, born still, January 20, 2002, at 5:35 p.m. He weighed 8 oz. and was 9 inches long. He was a beautiful baby. I could see our features in him. He had my nose and Brian’s mouth. I couldn't believe this was happening to us. Not now. Not after all these years of waiting and wanting. Years of infertility treatments. A miscarriage. Weeks and weeks of bedrest and bleeding. No, this couldn't be happening now. But it did...and very dark days followed. But eventually, the days got a little lighter and my crying happened less and less. You are tucked away in my heart, a very special place that only you hold.

He’s celebrating his fifth birthday in Heaven today. I can’t help but imagine how different my life would be if he were here. At one time I had a very hard time thinking along those lines, because if he was here, in my mind, that meant that Lindsey and Sydney would not be. I couldn’t go there. So I kept my thoughts and feelings of Seth close to my heart. I still do, but I’ve worked through that now. He can hold a very special piece of my heart and I can think of him, remember him, celebrate my time with him (even the roller coaster pregnancy), and feel good. Maybe it just takes five years to do that.

I’ve been looking at the mementos I have of Seth, reading poems that spoke to me and ones that I had written; thoughts of me on a page. I’d like to share a couple.

Written by me, 1-22-2002

Our Precious Little Son, Seth Allan

You were our hope of a beautiful future
One filled with little boy things-
Watching you grow to become a man.

We waited so long for you,
But it was not to be
For on that day in January
You, our precious, perfect son
Came into the world and left again.

You had your mommy’s nose
And your daddy’s mouth-
And all the other qualities
We will never know.

But those few timeless hours with you
Were the happiest and saddest moments in my life.
Your daddy and I held you and kissed you,
Prayed for you and sang to you.

We miss you so much, dear little Seth.
We will meet you again one day-
And have eternity to spend together.

Love always, Mommy and Daddy

Written 1-22-2002

My dear baby boy, Seth.

Mommy woke up this morning, crying for you. I felt lost without you and the thought that I’ll never see you grow to be a fine man tears at my heart. But I heard you today. You spoke to mommy and said, “Be strong, mommy” “I am here.” I could feel you right here with me, but only for a moment.

I know you are in a happy place – and our heavenly Father is taking care of you and that brings me some comfort. I will always miss you- dear little boy.

I love you.

Mommy

I will light your candle today, remembering you and always...always loving and missing you.

It's not always "the most wonderful time of the year".

My mind cannot focus these past few days. I’ve opened Word on several occasions wanting to make an entry to my blog, but no words came, or they were a jumble of words that didn’t make sense.

You see, a dear friend of mine is suffering a lost so great right now. M is 25 weeks pregnant. Very soon, she will be delivering her precious daughter whose heart beats no more. It has been consuming almost all of my waking thoughts and even some of my sleeping ones. It is so tragic and senseless and I, like many others, will never understand why this happens. I do, have a faith in God, though, and I trust that His wisdom is infinite and that there are things that our human and finite minds just can’t understand. I don’t believe God causes these things to happen and I believe that he suffers along with us. We are His children, how could He not?

The thing is, I have been where M is. Soon, January 20th will be upon us, the day I gave birth to my angel son, Seth Allan. He was all of my hopes and dreams; after all those years of infertility, treatments, tests, and a miscarriage. Shattered. Sorrow. Darkness. Pain. Hurt that cuts like a knife and sometimes you can’t even breathe. Sleep that you desperately want, but somehow can’t get, because the tears come even when you sleep. Days go by and you wonder how you will make it through a day without crying or how you wonder if there will ever be a moment where your thought isn’t of him. No smiling, no laughter, no joy.

But then you turn toward others who have been where you’ve been. You cling to your spouse, who is suffering too, but is your ROCK. You find comfort in your family, friends, God, and people you don’t even know. You try to do some normal things. You seek out poems that make you feel better and you write poems to make you feel better. And one day, you laugh. And you feel bad because you shouldn’t be laughing, you shouldn’t be happy. But you work through those feelings and you know what? It IS okay to be happy. It’s okay to go on. You are still here with a life ahead of you, people who count on you, love to give, and gifts of yourself that you need to share.

When I lost Seth, there were many angels that appeared to me. My sister-in-law had told her church about us and they were all praying for us. One angel asked my sister-in-law for my address because she wanted to send me something. Shortly thereafter, I received a book that made a great difference in my healing and gave me comfort. She sent me a note, telling me her story of loss. She said that it was okay to lean on God and be angry with God, that he could take it. She said He will bring healing. And she had enclosed some laminated cards in her handwriting that I still carry around, now, five years later. I’d like to share these words with you.

“The Lord is close to the brokenhearted and saves those who are crushed in spirit.” Psalm 34:18

“Though you have made me see troubles many and bitter, You will restore my life again. From the depths of the earth You will again bring me up. You will increase my honor and comfort me once again.” Psalm 71: 20-21

“And the God of all grace…after you have suffered a little while will Himself restore you and make you strong, firm and steadfast.” 1 Peter 5:10

I never met this woman. I only know her as Carla. I did send her a thank you, but I hope she REALLY knows what a difference she made in my life at a time when I really needed it.

So, today, the day of baby “Rs” birth, please say a prayer for M, G and their two little girls. Say a prayer for all the mothers of angels in Heaven; the fathers too. They sometimes get forgotten.

We are with you in spirit, M & G.

Prematurity Awareness Month

Yesterday was Prematurity Awareness Day.

It's a chance to reflect on my journey; our previous life in the NICU. Some days it seems like so long ago, barely four years, and at other times, it seems like yesterday.

Yesterday...

when I was on bedrest at home due to an incompetent cervix and having a cerclage placed. Through all my infertile life, I remember thinking "if I could just get pregnant, then everything would be okay". Once I got pregnant for the first time and had a miscarriage, I remember thinking "if I could just make it to 12 weeks, then everything would be okay". So, after my fourth IUI/INJ cycle, I got pregnant again and at 19 weeks, my world fell apart when I lost our son, Seth Allan, to what we now know was an incompetent cervix. I'll never view 12 weeks as safe or even 20 weeks or even 30.

Honestly, it's never safe. Yes, the statistics get better as time goes on, but one never knows. I'm forever changed because no matter how far along someone is, the thought always crosses my mind that something could happen. I'll never feel that blissful naivete that many do as they go through a pregnancy. Not that I'm planning on getting pregnant, but I will never feel that about anyone else either. NOTHING, in regards to my reproductive organs or life, has, or ever will be, normal. I've been angry about it. I've mourned. I've accepted it.

My third pregnancy (after two more IUI/INJ cycles) was, well, really quite rocky the entire time. I did have a few weeks in the middle (which for me was around week 14-17), where I actually felt pretty good. No bedrest, no bleeding. At 22 weeks, it changed again when my blood pressure at home on bedrest was elevating and I went in to have it checked. My doctor proceeded to immediately admit me and I went into a dark room and on that awful stuff called Magnesium Sulfate. I guess lucky for me, I was quite oblivious to what this all meant. I was able to get two courses of steroid shots to help mature the girls lungs. The problem was that I ended up not tolerating the Mag and developed pulmonary edema. I was on oxygen and gaining 2-5 lbs.of fluid a day. They stopped the Mag.

The next few days passed by and I had no idea of the severity of my condition: Preeclampsia. Nine days after being admitted to the hospital, the doctor rounding, whirled into my room and told me that we couldn't wait any longer. You're having a C-section at 4 p.m. I called my husband and told him to come to the hospital. I was sobbing. When he got there, I was telling him that I didn't know WHY they were doing this. I was FINE! I could make it longer. I could make it to 28 weeks. I called the doctor back in. I needed him to explain to me why they were doing this. 24 weeks was too early! Needless to say, he went through the list of the reasons: my blood pressure, the protein in my urine, my weight gain, my kidney function. He said they had limits to each of these and he'd already let me go past them to get me to 24 weeks. It was time.

And with that, I was propelled into another new experience: life in the NICU and the rollercoaster ride that comes along with it. Times two. My time in the NICU really deserves it's own post. It was a long 114 days. I journaled every day. It was very therapeutic for me. You can read my journals at L & S's Caring Bridge page. Just click on Read Journal History.

I'm sharing some of my story today, like many others have. Premature birth is a serious, common and costly problem. It can happen to any pregnant woman, and no one really knows why. 1 in 8 babies are born too soon. 1 in 8! Many do not survive. We were one of the lucky ones. I will never forget where my girls started, how hard they have fought or how very far they have come. In an instant, things could have turned out so differently. I have been blessed.

THEN


NOW

Happy 4th Birthday baby girls!

Here I am…reflecting on another year gone by. I can’t believe that my precious miracles are four years old today. FOUR! How does the time pass so quickly?

Seems like just a few months ago that I was sitting in the hospital waiting to have a C-section, scared beyond belief, but yet calm, feeling confident that everything was going to work out exactly how it was supposed to. Where does that confident feeling come from? Well, for me, I know it comes from my faith. I’ve been through many trials over the years…divorce, infertility, miscarriage, and losing a baby. Through it all, I’ve learned many things about myself, my strength and about the support of my friends and family. I think that each heartache, in a way, prepared me for the next, almost like another coat of armor, so to speak. Not that that armor protects you from future events, but each situation, each tribulation, has shaped me into the person that I am today.

Four years ago, I remember thinking why? Why couldn’t I get pregnant on my own? Why did I have a miscarriage? Why did I lose our son, Seth? Why couldn’t I just have a normal pregnancy, not one with all the shots, the blood draws, the monitoring, the cerclage, the bedrest, the pre-eclampsia? I thought for sure that after 15 years of dealing with infertility, I'd be able to have a baby. And now THIS? Now I have to go through possibly losing two more babies, two precious girls who barely weigh a pound? But yet, I still felt certain that everything would be okay, even at my lowest moments, when Lindsey was fighting for her life on the oscillator or seeing one of my babies being bagged time and time again. It was a quiet assuredness that I felt, but really can’t explain. I knew that nothing was in my control or even the doctor’s control. We would all do the best we could with what we had, but in the end, how they fared wasn’t up to us.

I thank God every day for having this time with my daughters. I look at them even now, and say to myself…I can’t believe there are TWO! I can’t believe they are mine! I can’t believe these girls weighed only a pound. A pound! They bring me such joy and happiness (frustration too, but I’ll take that). I am so proud, so honored and so grateful to be their mother.

They are so alike, and yet so different. Lindsey, I've always called my girls of extremes. She is either one way or another, really sweet and loving or the opposite! LOL! Sydney is more even keeled, straight and steady. It's funny how this is exactly how they were pegged in the hospital too, and it's carried forward.

So, I leave you with a few pictures…documenting the past four years. Thank you all for sharing these years with me. I truly believe that we meet each other for a reason. We learn so much from each other. We take and we give. If you are interested in reading about Lindsey & Sydney's first days and months, it's all documented at their Caring Bridge page. Click on previous journals.

21 weeks - the only pregnancy picture I have
I delivered three short weeks later


Lindsey Faith - about 10 days old


Sydney Paige - about 10 days old


Kangaroo Care


Six months old


One Year Old


Sydney - Two Years old


Lindsey - Two Years old


Lindsey & Sydney - We're THREE now!


Stay tuned for our birthday pics! We're having a family party today and it's going to be a great day! I love you baby girls!