For Nathan

Please take a moment and watch this video, and if it touches your heart, share it with someone....anyone.  Then, if you have time, take a moment to visit the Rick & Jen's website in honor of their son, Nathan.  They are dear sweet people with huge hearts for the Kingdom and they long to offer hope to all.

**I have tried to load the video here, but I'm having computer troubles with our flash player, I will attempt again later today...for now, just click on the link above!  **  :0)

a rare treat...a post from the hubster

After experiencing the extreme angst, yet unfathomable anticipation, of having my two babies held for me in Eternity, I look at my wife differently since we’ve been able to raise our third child, Noah, here, on this side of Eternity. Not different in a bad way, but different in an awe-inspiring way. The same fear, sadness, drive, and commitment that Amanda had for our first two, she has turned into a different kind of drive and commitment for Noah. She IS that boy’s Momma, and she’ll do anything to keep him safe and joyful. It was yesterday, while driving with Amanda and Noah in the back seat, Noah finally asleep, I realized something: pProm and Baby Loss Moms are tough and unlike any other kind of woman on the planet.

I feel comfortable saying that BLM’s love their children more than the average woman. My thoughts are going back to that old cliché of, “You don’t know what you have, until it’s gone,” however, without the implied negative connotation. I think that without having lost a baby(ies), we would not have realized the deep capacity that we are able to love, even something so small. Some of you who have the fortune of being pregnant, or have children, know what I’m talking about. Even in the womb, you love your child and are anxious for their arrival, if for no other reason than to finally meet your love face-to-face. Your little one was, “knit together inside your womb” by Almighty God, Who even “formed their innermost parts” – Psalm 139:13

I watch Amanda knit. We even have a colorful throw blanket that she knitted, which resides on our loveseat. It’s amazing to see how much time is being put into such an intricate work of art. Each little part, seemingly insignificant to outsiders, crafted, woven, and stitched to another seemingly insignificant piece; one after the other, they’re interconnected to form, when the time is right, a masterpiece. My God not only formed my innermost parts, He developed the microscopic inner-workings of my boy. From even the smallest strand of DNA down to sub-nuclear levels, even in how air, containing Oxygen, Nitrogen, and a cocktail of other elements is introduced into the lungs and is used to sustain life for the better part of a century. BLM’s are keenly aware of this fact, as they take no part of their child(ren) for granted…no matter how small or insignificant it may appear to be from an outsider’s view, it’s perfect, wonderful, and integral to the BLM. It’s just one more thing they love about their child.

Another thing I realized is that BLM’s have so much love, they need an outlet. For Amanda, this blog is her outlet, as well as her participation is the March of Dimes. I urge you to get involved in someone’s life. Very few things in life are fair; if things were always fair, we’d have three sons, not just one. Nevertheless, my past will not deter me from loving to my utmost capacity in my present and future. Share your love with someone. You’ve been given so much love, it’s overflowing within you…so you have more than enough to give. Get involved in your church, in your community; mentor a child; heck, I urge you, if you’re on the fence, to take the plunge and adopt a child! What perfect symmetry to see a BLM who desires a child to love adopt a child who needs to be loved and return the love (s)he’s been given…in excess.

Lastly, never, ever stop believing that you are loved and watched over. Your needs are heard and will be realized in His perfect time. For those who are desperately in need of a child to love, your solution will come in His time…and it will be worth the wait! The God Who gives ravens food when they neither reap nor sow values you so much more. – Luke 12:24

Reading in Job chapters 38-40:

After all Job had been through, from seeing his entire family taken from him, boils cover his entire body, and every viable exit blocked, God reminds Job of how big He truly is:

Where were you when I established the earth? Tell [Me], if you have understanding. Who fixed its dimensions? Certainly you know! Who stretched a measuring line across it? What supports its foundations, or who laid its cornerstone while the morning stars sang together and all the sons of God shouted for joy?

Who enclosed the sea behind doors when it burst from the womb, when I made the clouds its garment and thick darkness its blanket, when I determined its boundaries and put [its] bars and doors in place, when I declared: "You may come this far, but no farther; your proud waves stop here"?

Have you ever in your life commanded the morning or assigned the dawn its place, so it may seize the edges of the earth and shake the wicked out of it? The earth is changed as clay is by a seal; [its hills] stand out like [the folds of] a garment. Light is withheld from the wicked, and the arm raised [in violence] is broken.

Have you traveled to the sources of the sea or walked in the depths of the oceans? Have the gates of death been revealed to you? Have you seen the gates of death's shadow? Have you comprehended the extent of the earth?

Tell [Me], if you know all this.

And through all that, Job realized, not necessarily how small he was, but how big God actually is…and he says, “I place my hand over my mouth.” The God of the universe loves you and will meet your needs in His time, for His glory, and your good. All you have to do is seek Him.

Amanda and I love all of you and pray for you fervently,

The Hubby

One Year - Levi Matthew

One year ago, on June 28, 2010, I went into labor with my second child.  Levi.

On June 14, 2010, I went in to see my OB to find out the sex of our precious baby.  It was a boy.  And, then, just like all my other appointments, I was having my cervix measured - only it was too short - far too short.  So, I was rushed to the hospital for an emergency cerclage to sew the cervix shut, and save my son.  But, alas, that was not the grand plan for this part of our journey, and after being put under anesthesia, my water broke at only 17 weeks pregnant.  I then put myself on bed rest for 2 weeks, and on June 28th around noon I began having strong contractions.  We went to the OB and I asked to be admitted to the hospital...she agreed and by 2 p.m. I was in the labor & delivery room where I would meet my son.

At 11:46 p.m. on June 28th Levi Matthew came silently (although quite alive) into our world.  He was breathtaking.  I could not stop staring at him, memorizing every inch of this amazing one, so precious, and so fresh. 

He grabbed my finger, I watched him try to breath, and then I watched in amazement as his little heart beat for over an hour.  AN HOUR.  He crossed into Heaven at 1:05 AM on June 29, 2010.  But, the doctor's said he wouldn't survive the birth - they were wrong - he was a hero.  A warrior boy.  We showered him in our love, and I gave him a million kisses.  He is my heart beat, my beautiful son.  My Levi. 

My heart is forever broken at the loss of him.  But, I look forward to seeing him again on that great day...I know he will be waiting for us inside the gates of Heaven, and I long for the chance to hold him.  My life has been forever altered by his tiny life, and I pray that I never forget what it felt like to have him and love him...if only ever so briefly.

Life is short, but it is wide...I know

Oh, my heart!  I am a huge fan of JJ Heller, and I recently discovered a heart-wrenching, but amazing song... 

The back story to the song, and the details of the little girl lost can be found here.  And you can hear the beautiful song here.






And, here are the lyrics:

Hearts broke
When your heart stopped beating
I don't
Know if mine will ever stop bleeding

Eleven minutes...
To breathe you in
I felt the darkness
When I knew I couldn't hold you again
When I knew I couldn't hold you again

Olivianna, you're in the arms of God
Just a moment there is better than here

Life is short but it is wide
I know it's true
You touched more souls
Than most people ever do

Olivianna, you're in the arms of God
Just a moment there is better than here

You could not stay with us (echoed)
We will come to you (echoed)
You could not stay with us (echoed)
Oh oh oh oh
You're going home love
Where you belong
Oh my baby, girl
I'll see you soon

Olivianna, you're in the arms of God
Just a moment there is better than here
Olivianna, you're in the arms of God
Just a moment there is better than here

International Babylost Mother's Day

Sunday May 1st 2011 marks International Babylost Mothers Day.  It is a day that we will celebrate all mothers who are missing their babies and children.

 

Please find a quiet moment to pray and lift up the momma's who are missing their sweet one's on this day.  Also, visit the Facebook Page and join in with the giving of Beautiful Mother Flowers. You can read more about the flowers on the website http://internationalbabylostmothersday.blogspot.com/2010/08/rainbow-flower-gallery.html

It is Better

Our Pastor said something in his message two Sundays ago that has been on my mind, so I decided to blog about it.  I often read back through old blogs and I am so glad that I keep this record of things going on in our life.  :0)

He was mentioning a Nicholas Sparks' book, and in the book a main character dies.  He said that what the story is trying to convey is that it is better to have experienced great love briefly, than to never experience any love.  The sentence caught me off guard.  My heart was tugged.  This is exactly how I feel about Rowan & Levi. While their deaths were tragic and so overwhelmingly awful, it is better to have been their momma and loved them so entirely - than to never have been pregnant and had them/lost them at all.

I read a lot of blogs, books, forums, etc, about/by/mentioning baby loss moms, and families.  I know more than anyone should ever have to know about the science of getting pregnant, staying pregnant, losing children, reading ultrasounds, deciphering measurements, etc, etc, etc....   I am always taken aback when I come across a woman's story if it leaves me feeling upset.  Before I go any further, let me say, I know that anger is a stage in the grief process - but it's just that - a stage.  And to truly heal (if that is your end goal) you must move on from that 'stage' lest it become a plateau and you remain trapped there forever.  Now, all that being said, this is not meant to be judgmental in tone, nor is it meant to cause pain/hurt, this is merely a path I have walked (more than once) and my opinion(s) based on where I am in the journey - and I'm no where near the finish line.

So, what I was saying...
Some of the stories I read are written in such anger, and disgust.  It breaks my heart.  I know where the anger comes from, I yelled, screamed & cried out to God in anger many times after Rowan died, and again when I was told there was no hope for my Levi.  However, I have come to learn that I was so privileged to be a momma, to be their momma.  I like to think that God knows what He is doing.  It is that belief that gets me out of bed, and helps me stand up and breath all day long.

I guess what I would hate to see is any woman give up on this hope.  Give up and stay put in the angry, dark, places of her grief.  Yes, I get it.  Our children died.  And, no, it most certainly isn't fair.  But, isn't it better to have been with them, to have known of their existence, and to have had them for such a small time...than to have never had them (or worse - never been able to have them)?  I understand that some people who read this may be very new to their loss, and I pray you forgive me if I seem matter-of-fact about things.  But, for me, it is matter-of-fact.  I'm not a cold-hearted woman who has overcome, or 'gotten past' the loss of her children.  I grieve for Rowan & Levi daily.

I have three children, two of them are dead and I'm praying this third one makes it here to stay.  It hurts every day, and I miss them and long to hold them so badly.  When I see other children around the ages they 'should' be I just stare in amazement, and feel a deep longing for my boys.  But, I find peace and mercy in knowing that they are mine (they were mind), and although I cannot be with them now - oh a day is coming...a magnificent day when I'll see them and we will know each other instantly.

I fully believe that God can more closely relate to me, a baby-loss momma, than other momma's.  He too lost a son, He too watched his beloved boy die...  It has brought me such peace to know that even when I feel He's so very far away - He knows and can share in the heartache that I am feeling.

1 Corinthians 14:1 - The Message
Go after a life of love as if your life depended on it—because it does. 

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...

widget quotes

I found a super site
You can get all sorts of quotes, graphics, etc for your blogs.  These two are my favorite quotes from their page.

graphics for moms



graphics for moms

Normal?!?!

I 'borrowed' this from someone's blog long ago,  and never posted it...but most of these are true statements that I have thought or felt in the last 14 months...

~MY NEW "NORMAL"~

*Author Unknown*

Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.

Normal for me is trying to decide what to take to the cemetery for Birthdays Christmas, Thanksgiving, New Years, Valentine's Day, July 4th and Easter.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind.

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.

Normal is staring at every baby who looks like they are my babies ages. And then thinking of the ages they would be now and not being able to imagine it. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.

Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".

Normal is each year coming up with the difficult task of how to honor your child's memory and their birthday and survive these days.

Normal is my heart warming and yet sinking at the sight of something special that my babies would have loved, but how they is not here to enjoy it.

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my babies.

Normal is making sure that others remember Rowan & Levi.

Normal is after the funerals are over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our losses forever.

Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you – it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having to bury your own child is unnatural.

Normal is trying not to cry all day, because I know my mental health depends on it. Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone, but someone stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.

Normal is wondering this time whether you are going to say you have two children or none, because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that your babies are in heaven. And yet when you say you have no children to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your children.

Normal is knowing I will never get over these losses, in a day or a million years. And last of all,

Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".

Tangled Up

“Although the world is full of suffering, it is also full of the overcoming of it.”  ~Helen Keller

All the feelings get all jumbled sometimes.  I feel happy today, but guilty for feeling good when I am so sad because both my babies are gone so far away.  Then I feel ridiculous for feeling guilty, because I am a bereaved mother and I am dealing with my grief as it comes (and it comes in waves).  Ugh.

I have gone from being a confident, naive, young woman to a wise(r)?! I hope, older woman, in the past year.  I know myself much more deeply, and am so sure of my convictions...  But I am completely unsure of my 'feelings.'  It's the confusing emotionality of grief that gets me twisted up.  Is this even making sense?

I am not afraid.  I know my hope is secure, I know where my children are, and I know where I'm headed.  I am not afraid.  There can be nothing so devastating, or painful, as losing a child (save for losing another - both of which I've already done....)  I am not afraid.  For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. (II Tim 1:7)


Why is it then that when the flood of emotion starts to rise up...I freeze.  I have no idea, literally, of what to do with the emotions.  Do I put on a smile, say I'm doing okay, and keep walking?  Do I wallow in the depths of the pain and anger?

I have no answers yet...but I'm not giving up!  I am victorious.  I am a warrior momma.

I miss my boys so terribly much.  This month will be 14 months since Rowan went to Heaven...he would be nearly 8 months old if he had made it to his due date...  8 months old!!  Wow.  And Levi will have been gone 4 months at the end of October.  I was 17 weeks when my water broke....  I hate getting to the point in this 'after-life' - you BLMs know what I mean...the place where they have been gone longer than they got to stay!?!  HATE it.  HATE. it.

but on the inside

On the outside I wear a smile, and put myself together.  But, on the inside I wear a broken heart and feel like I'm falling apart.   On the outside I laugh and joke, but on the inside I want to scream.  I want to  yell, jump, punch...but on the inside - well on the inside I feel the same on that one.

I hope that I'll have the faith to keep dragging my body from bed each day, and I pray that God will continue to uphold me.  I feel so week and helpless.  I feel confused and out of sorts...maybe even a little bit out of my mind. 

In other news, our counseling has been going really well.  I think it's been helping us with our communication.  We listen more to each other, and I think we have been more patient with each other.  I'm happy with it, and the hope it has given us!

I just read back through that post - yep...I'm a little bit out of my mind.  :o)

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. 

#100

Just a warning :this may be pretty random...

I've had a really rough few days. Sometimes the pain just sneaks up on you, and it's as if someone has slapped you in the face with a lead glove. The empty ache in the pit of my stomach, the deep despair in my heart, are all too familiar....but never seem easier to bear. Being a mom to two dead children sucks....majorly.

I watch the kids in my neighborhood running, laughing, living...and I'm crying again. I see the pregnant women at Publix or Target, and I'm crying...again. I can spot a preggo a good mile away, and change course pretty quickly these days - it's a skill you pick up being a BLM. I'm not proud of it, but it is what it is.

A list of things that make me want to slap a woman:
(1) complaints about being pregnant
(2) complaints about her kids
(3) complaints about stretch marks from being pregnant
(4) snatching a kid by the arm and speaking uber-harshly to them (you know what I'm talking about - there is usually a cigarette dangling from her lips - eerily close to the little kid's face)

I am going to start counseling. As you can tell from reading above, I clearly need to talk to someone. I probably need some type of medication as well. I feel totally out of control of my emotions most of the time, and big crowds of people make me nervous, oh and then there is the idea that I might see someone I know - so I drive to stores that aren't close to my house/work just to be safe. Yeah, I think I need to talk to someone. I am making light of this situation, but it is serious. I have been praying and just really hoping that I'd be able to get things under control on my own....yeah... So, I think it's going to be good. It's through my church, and it makes me excited that the counselor will share my beliefs.

Anyhow, happy 100th post to me. 100, and here I was thinking I didn't have anything to say.

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

myself

Why is everything so dang hard?

Today is my first day without Matt 24/7. I am a basket case. I went to my postpartum doctor's appointment by myself today. I made sure it was at 8 a.m., right when they opened so I'd have less chance of seeing preggos. Wrong. As I was leaving they were springing out at me from every corner. It was like that video game where you have to shoot those ducks that pop up out of the grass. Oy vey. Terrible. I practically ran to my car, slammed the doors and melted into the seats. Terrible. I was finally able to pull myself together long enough to drive home....where I collapsed into the sofa.

This is harder than it felt with Rowan. Yet I feel like I love them the same, but sometimes I feel awful for thinking I might love Levi more than Rowan... What kind of mother does that make me? I think it's just because for two out of the last three weeks, Levi and I spent EVERY second together, I would talk and sing and he would flutter around just being there...inside me...living. Now, it's been one week since I pushed him out into this cold world and he went away. So far away, to a place where I can never see him...never call out to him...not for a while anyway. Matt says it will seem like a short time to the boys (Rowan & Levi), but to me, it already feels like eternity.

I hate the emptiness I feel within myself. My body, served a great purpose, a life-giving purpose...and now it is just an empty shell. My heart was beating, sending blood and life to another, now just beats for me...

The results from the autopsy of my placenta showed nothing. NOTHING. Seriously, you mean my baby just died for no reason. No, not what they meant. My cervix is incompetent. Duh. That's what I told them after Rowan. Next time, the doctor says.... NEXT TIME - I want to scream. We are not guaranteed a 'next time...' I'm not ready to think about a 'next time.' I want this time. I want it all back.

Prescription for Ambien to help me sleep, prescription for Lexapro to help me function better in society. A list of counselors to help me deal with my feelings of loss. No thanks. I feel at one with my sadness, and I think I need to feel it rather than suppress it - for now. Feeling the heartache keeps me in touch with Levi somehow. Makes his premature departure feel close, and not like it's slipping away...like he's close and not so far.

Yesterday at lady at Wal-Mart asked how I was doing. If you have ever read my blog you know how much I detest that question. And, yesterday was no different. I just stared at her. How could she not know. My son died, less than a week ago...I'm doing just terribly. I want to scream at the world, how can they/it go on being 'normal'? How is it that the world doesn't stop to mourn for my Levi? What am I supposed to do now?

UPDATE
Later in the afternoon I get a phone call, I should just know not to answer my phone these days... yeah it was a nurse from SHH wanting to know if we were still coming to the prepared childbirth class (it was supposed to start tonight). I just started bawling, barely got out that my son passed away and hung up on her. Oh dear.

A fund for my son

For those wishing to contribute to the medical and funeral costs for sweet Levi Matthew McCleskey, please click here: Levi's Life Mattered.

We'll add your names to a separate email list so that you can follow along with exactly how your money will help pay for Amanda's hospital expenses, the birth and subsequent death of Levi, as well as his funeral and head stone. And, in the event that God blesses us with more than we can handle (as he tends to do) - you on the list will vote on which charity, memorial, etc...will claim the additional funds.

Be blessed, it is no small thing to help a friend in need.

June 28th, Levi's debut

my sweet angel, Levi Matthew McCleskey
born 06-28-10 @ 11:46 p.m.
8.5" long, weighing 9.2 oz.

He was perfect in every way. His heart was beating strong for a little over an hour. He gulped down 5 small breaths and put his tiny hand on mine right after he was born. And then, just as quietly as he came to us, he was gone. We love him so very much.