Four

Today I write to honor the life of my smallest son, my Rowan.  My FIRST son.  My heart was stolen on the day that pregnancy test was positive.  I fell to my knees in tears & humble thanks.  For years we waited, we cried, we screamed, we hurt, we laughed, we loved, we wanted, and we worked hard to make a baby.  And then, I peed on a stick & 3minutes later our lives were forever changed. 

I will NEVER forget the feeling of sweet relief and overwhelming joy at seeing the smallest flicker of life on that black and white ultrasound machine.  The immense, deep, never ceasing LOVE of Jesus flooded me so quickly in that moment & spilled over from Him to me and from me to the little spark within me.

 

And, then, my God, my God...5 weeks later and a heartbeat was heard.  A heartbeat that stopped all of time for a moment.  I didn't want them to take the wand away from my belly.  I wanted the sound to go on forever.  And the person growing within me, on the screen, small and perfectly at peace.  Only knowing love.

 

But, not all stories of becoming a momma & daddy end with a cooing, squirmy, love bug.  Some end with a worn out momma sitting down to use the bathroom and catching her 13 week old baby in her hands.  Some end with daddy's dropping to their knees and praying for a twin to be inside that no one noticed before.  Some end with momma's not having any contractions, without any bleeding and without any warning.  And some of the stories end before they even really begin.  But, I say it again (and I will continue to shout from the roof tops) you are (we are) all mommas & daddys.

Rowan came to us quickly, quietly and without pain.  I like to believe that is how he left too, how he experienced it I mean.  No pain, only love.  No pressure or harshness, only mercy and grace from Abba Father.  

Psalm 139:13-16  " For you created my inmost being; you knit me together in my mother's womb.  I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well.  My frame was not hidden from you when I was made in the secret place. When I was woven together in the depths of the earth,  your eyes saw my unformed body. All the days ordained for me were written in your book before one of them came to be."

 

If I allow myself to sit & think about all I felt and struggled to grasp onto as my life was spinning so fast in those moments after Rowan came to us...  I can feel the tiny weight of him against my hand.  I can remember the warmth.  I can recall staring at him, taking all of him in...fingers with nails, toes, a face that looked exactly like my husband, the cutest little teeny tiny booty.  All the things a momma would notice.  I would want Rowan to know that I noticed.  I know that he was 9 oz in weight.  I know those things because I am his momma.  He mattered, his life MATTERED, it matters still.  

My heart aches for Heaven to be with my boys, Rowan and Levi.  But, my heart also rejoices here to be with Matt and our little Noah.  The Lord is good and He will fulfill ALL of his promises.  What we think we know and understand of God's character is only a whisper of His glory and grandness.  And our small journey here is only a tiny speck in the grand scheme of eternity...but it matters. To us and to Him.  

Winner, Winner, Chicken Dinner

On Facebook Thursday night (04-28-11) the girls from Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope had a little give-away, and encouraged us all to leave comments telling them about our favorite quotes, etc...  The prize??  Here is their Facebook site, and I LOVE all of their items.

Here is the sign that started the give-away idea.  I super LOVE the quote. 

The quote reads: "Perhaps they are not the stars, but rather openings in Heaven where the love of our lost ones shines down to let us know they are with us."  Too sweet right?

You can read my story on the Faces website, here.  And, if you haven't shared  your story in writing, I highly encourage you to do so.  And, the Faces site is a nice, safe, environment to do so.  There is a strong, large, community of women living the same type of grief as you. 

Thank you Faces Ladies!  I appreciate your generosity and the hope that your website has given to my family.

Faces of Loss Monthly Topic: November, Blessings

I know, I'm a bit late on the draw...  


November’s topic: It’s easy to focus on all the negative things that come from losing a baby, but have you discovered any ‘blessings in disguise’ throughout your journey? What can you find to be thankful for related to your loss?


It is so much easier to focus on the negatives.  Thinking about blessings makes me feel guilty.  And, yes, I know it's all in my head -- but that's all I've got!


But seriously, I think that I've been most blessed to have been pregnant with my boys at all.  Since their deaths I've read loads of blogs from wanna-be mommas.  It makes my heart ache for them.  Although completely different, I know that pain of wanting a child so badly...  


I cannot think of 'blessings in disguise' as all of our blessings seem to be so blatant.  I think that the biggest thing we have 'gained' since losing the babies is the support of a huge online community of other grieving parents....and although I hate so much that we all need each other...I am so glad this community exists.

Faces of Loss Monthly Topic: October, Masks

I am pleased to be part of a large community of babyloss moms (on the internet).  You can read about other mom's triumphs and tragedies at my favorite BLM site, Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope.  (and you can read my story here).  Although I wish none of us had to be in this club, here we are - and together we are stronger.

Anyhow, each month the Faces of Loss team puts out a topic of conversation.  And here is the one for October:  As Halloween approaches and you start thinking about costumes, are there (figurative) "masks" you sometimes put on?

 Oh good golly!  This hit me like a swift kick in the butt.  I like to think I don't pretend for anyone, and I don't just say 'I'm fine' when on the inside I'm a mess.  But, alas...  I do.  I very much do.  I try very hard not to let other people's comfort level dictate whether or not I'll talk about Rowan and/or Levi...but it often does.  Many people cannot deal with the fact that babies die.  Many people (some who are very close to me) still refer to me as 'having no children.'  So, yes, I wear masks.  I put on the mask of the happy-go-lucky girl I've always been known to be...and I go out and about.  I plaster on a smile when I see you coming with your pregnant belly, or your tiny baby.  I save my tears and frowns for a more private time.  I put on the mask of 'friendly concern/care' for you as you tell me how 'the baby won't sleep more than 2 hours,' or 'my clothes don't fit anymore - HAHAHA - LOL'.  I save the raw emotions for a later time...

I'm not sure why I do this.  I think even people who haven't lost babies put on masks all the time.  There are many reasons to pretend to be something other than what you are truly.  But, I hate it.  It only makes me feel bad, because I seem to be the only one who knows.

Sigh.  So, yes, I put on masks.  But I'm learning about taking them off and stomping them to dust so they can never be put back on...

Faces of Loss Monthly Topic: September, Changes

I have been mingling with the BLMs from Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope for a few months.  I love the support system we are all helping to build.  It is my hope and dream that no woman who loses a child will ever feel alone.  I believe it is the duty of those of us who have been on this road for any length of time to reach out and say, "you are not alone, and you are not crazy for any of your feelings."

So, in an effort to be a light in the darkness for just one BLM, I write here.  I pour out my soul to help myself heal, but also to offer hope to those who are just starting out on this painful path that no one would ever choose on their own...  Okay, so this is exciting, the gals at Faces have come up with a new way for the BLM community to interact.  Each month they will post a blogging topic and we can all link up and read each others and become more connected.  You can get the specifics here, and link up your blog also.

September’s topic: 

How has the changing of seasons (from summer to fall) impacted you in your grief journey?

 

  Summer, a time of fun, sun, family gatherings...  A time of happiness, vacations and sun!  Summer, a hot, sticky, humid Florida summer.  What could be better.  We don't really have much of a fall here in Florida.  We mostly have two seasons, hot and cold.  And the hot far outlasts the cold.  I guess because there isn't much noticeable change outside I don't think too much about the fall, or changing seasons.  

  I have to say that I never thought of the changing seasons impacting me at all in my journey.  But, after reading the question and pondering for a while I have decided that I will welcome the change as a new phase in my grief.  Both of my boys died in the summer.  Rowan went to Heaven on August 17, 2009.  Levi Matthew was born on June 28th and died on June 29, 2010.  

Both boys were conceived in the spring, and both due in the winter months.  Maybe fall can be considered a reprieve for me, emotionally.  Not to much is tied to the fall, no dates to obsess over and get anxious about.   I think I'll be more heavily burdened by the change from fall to full-blown winter.  My Levi was due on November 25th and Rowan was due on February 25th.  The cold, harsh, winter may prove more difficult for me.

  Tomorrow, the 17th, will mark 13 months that Rowan has been gone, and at the end of this month my Levi will have been gone for 3 months.  It feels like yesterday that I was holding his tiny hands.  I somehow feel that the changing seasons will force us to look at ourselves again, and reassess where we are and make some choices about where we would like to go.  Everything I do is for, and because of, my children...no matter the day, no matter the season.  

face in a crowd

Check it out, over at faces of loss.  A new way to reach out and offer hope to those in your community who have loved and lost their babies. 

faces of loss

I was surfing today, and found an incredible place, filled with incredible women. Women like me, unfortunately, who have loved and lost...women with the happiest stories that end in the saddest ways. Women with whom I feel a soul connection. Women who can no longer remain silent.

Here is my submission, and you can read others here.


Amanda, Mom to Rowan McCleskey (miscarried at 13 weeks, 2 days on August 17th, 2009); and Levi Matthew McCleskey (June 28th, 2010-June 29th, 2010, 19 weeks)

How did we end up here?

I most likely cannot do my children any justice with mere words, but I can try to keep their little spirits alive in me by telling and re-telling these stories. I'm a mother, but probably not in the way that you would expect. Our children do not live among us, for they were too precious for this place. The hurried on to Heaven and I can hardly wait to meet them there.

Rowan's Story

Matt and I had been married for a little over 2 years, and had been trying to conceive for much of that time. See, we were nearly 30 and ready to begin our family building. After a few rounds of Clomid, and a much needed get-away I found out I was pregnant on June 24, 2009. To express my jubilation at the news would take far too much space...and Matt...oh if I was excited then I don't even think there is a word to adequately describe his elation. We could not wait to be parents. We began telling everyone at once. I was about 6 weeks along, and we didn't think 34 weeks was enough time to tell all of our friends/family. We started buying baby goods, and had the nursery ready for our little peanut at 12 weeks. Everything was perfect, all my appointments were great and the baby was growing big and steady. We had seen Peanut at 9 weeks, and had listened to the super-fast, strong, heart beat then as well.

On August 17, 2009, our lives were forever altered. I woke up at 6:45, as usual, to get ready for work. I used the bathroom, and felt something like a 'slipping'. There really isn't any way to describe it. I reached down to see if it was blood, and I caught Rowan in my hands. He was perfect. Ten fingers, toes, all with nails, a face identical to his daddy....just far too small to ever stay here. We called my doctor and went to the ER. I had a D&C and developed an infection (as I had to wait nearly 18 hours w/o food or water for the surgery). It was a nightmare. The hospital had let Matt take the baby home, since we wanted a funeral and he was to be issued no birth certificate because it was a miscarriage, a 'spontaneous abortion' - ugh! that phrase makes me furious still to this day. I was in the hospital for 3 days and finally was able to go home. I held Rowan for hours. I memorized every inch of him, our friend Donna came and took pictures, I didn't want to ever forget a moment with Rowan, or any special feature of what he looked like. He was perfect. My angel love.

We had a funeral for Rowan, and many people came. It was amazing how many people loved our little angel. He would have been so adored here!!

Levi's Journey

It has been a long road. We thought we might be ready to try again after the beginning of 2010. I prayed and cried out to God to let us have a baby before I turned 30. My 30th birthday is this November 27th. So, on March 21, 2010, when I found out I was pregnant again....I was thrilled....scared to death..but thrilled.

I was much more anxious during this pregnancy, and I didn't want to tell anyone until I was 20 weeks along. Matt, however, couldn't contain it for even one day! He carried the 'pee stick' to work and showed it off. He works at our church, so it was kind of funny. He began telling everyone he knew, and everyone he saw. Once again, his excitement was incredible to watch. I love him so much. He has been such a hero to me. I held off on telling my friends until about 6-8 weeks, and didn't tell any of my family until 12 weeks. Mother's day. Again, all my appointments were perfect. My cervix was holding tightly, and things were looking like they might work out. But still, I held back my excitement. I had read so many books after Rowan left us, and discovered that I probably had an incompetent cervix, so I insisted on more testing and more exams, and my doctor was gracious and gave me what I wanted. I was seen every two weeks for measurements, etc. Thank God.

At week 17, June 14th, we went in to find out the sex of this baby. It was a boy. Hallelujah. We were ecstatic. I cried and held Matt's hand. Then, it was time for the cervical exam. No big deal, hadn't it been perfect just a few weeks ago, yes...more than enough length. Yet the u/s tech's face dropped and she rushed me into my doctor's office. I was told the length was at 2.5cm, and anything under 3cm is bad news bears. No worries I thought 2.5cm is not to far from 3cm. We were rushed to a MFM specialist only 3-4 minutes away, and by the time they examined me (less than 20 min. later), baby's head was down and my cervix was measuring at 0cm, and they could see the water sac. What?!?!!? How?!?!

I was admitted to the hospital for an emergency cerclage...the next day at noon. So, for 18 hours I was put in bed, at a 45 degree angle (feet above head) in hopes that the membranes and baby would slip back inside where they belonged and the surgery could be performed. I have never been so scared. My little one, in whom I'd been so hopeful...and now I was failing him too....failing my husband again. But, Matt was so incredible. My sweet love. He talked to me about baby names, and about what we would tell the baby. About how strong I was, and what a great momma I'd be. We hadn't discussed this baby before, a name for him, what he would do when he grew up. I think it was our way of not counting the chickens before they hatched....without ever saying anything to each other. We decided on the name Levi, which I have always loved, and Matthew after my husband. So, this baby, still alive in me would be called Levi Matthew. In the bible Levi's name was changed to Matthew after he met Jesus, so it was a sweet name, and an honor for my husband.

Well, noon came and I was put under for surgery. I am told that I was asleep for 5-10 minutes, because as soon as I went under my water broke. 17 weeks and my water broke. I learned later (on my own) it's called PPROM. Preterm Premature Rupture of Membranes. We were told there is no hope, and no baby can survive PPROM at this early in a pregnancy. They were wrong. Many babies have and do, once again information I discovered on my own. However, with spontaneous rupture there is no 'cure' because the rupture is too all encompassing, it is too big of a wound. So, I put myself on bed rest and a strict diet of prayer. For 2 weeks I laid in bed and prayed and spent time with my Levi. My husband laid around with me, and my friend Donna as well. It was awful, but kind of a sweet time to have with Levi, a time that I did not have with Rowan. Donna even took us out one day shortly before Levi was born and did some maternity shots....I'm so so glad to have them.

On the morning of June 28th I woke up feeling 'not quite right.' My appointment that day was at one, so I waited for Matt to get in from work to take me to the doctor. Around noon I started having mild contractions, and I went to the bathroom. I felt around and could feel something solid at the opening of my cervix. At the doctor's office I was told it was Levi's bottom. Again I cried. There would be no stopping his arrival. He would come, and it would be soon. I was told to go home and wait, but I begged to be admitted to labor & delivery, I wouldn't be able to do this at home. The doctor agreed, and by 2 p.m. I was in my bed in L&D. I had contractions off and on all day and by 7 or 8 that night they were massive, and bad and about every 5 minutes. Matt had fallen asleep and I rose to use the bathroom, it was 11:45-ish. Levi was coming and I couldn't stop him. I began to yell for Matt and he ran to get a nurse. I delivered Levi at 11:46, once again, over a toilet I brought a child into this world....only this time...he reached out and grabbed my hand. I watched with love as a tiny heart beat out a rhythm against the flesh of his tiny chest, and I saw him greedily gulp down 5-6 small breaths of hospital air. Then I just held him. There was, sadly, no saving my boy. My strong, lion-hearted Levi. He fought so hard, and was super-strong. A little hero, like his daddy. An identical, albeit, tiny exact replica of his daddy.

We buried Levi on July 2, 2010, next to his big brother Rowan. They are forever together running the streets of gold, and loving Jesus.

You can read more about our family on my blog, and you can see pictures of my beautiful ones there too. My heart is forever broken, and I am forever changed. I do not yet know how to walk with this limp...

Amanda blogs at www.thisgirl-amanda.blogspot.com
You can contact her at amanda.mccleskey@gmail.com