Nora's Story
I started writing down Nora's story as a type of therapy. I also wanted it down on paper so anyone could come across it in the future and see that she was here, she is loved and she is important. I never really wanted to share it because I tend to keep things private and it felt too personal and delicate to put out there. I am very protective of Nora and her memory and would hate to hear/read any comment that belittles her existence. However, this is my daughter and I want the world to know her. I also don't want others who are going through the loss of a baby to feel alone or that they can't talk about their precious baby. So I will nervously put myself out there for them and for my daughter.
Our beautiful baby girl, Nora NovaLee, was born April 2nd, 2016... exactly 21 weeks too early. At first glance, this story seems like a tragedy, which it is; however, Nora's story is much more about Love which is why I wanted to share it. To see it for what it really is, with all of the hurt, tears and love, I must go back to the beginning...
The Best Time
It was four days before Christmas Day and I had not been feeling well. I was tired, nauseous and having unbelievable heartburn. As my husband, Ernie and our three sons (Mason-9, Maverick-4 and Denver-2) were running around the house like crazy, trying to find shoes and coats (as young families do whenever we go anywhere), I snuck off to the bathroom to take a pregnancy test. As I watched the test with hyperactive butterflies in my stomach, I saw the second line show up right away...we were pregnant!! As I tried to quietly celebrate and wrap my head around the reality, I wrapped up the test and tried to walk out just as normal and chill as possible. I must have been glowing because Ernie just looked at me and curiously said, "What?" The kids were running around so I just blew it off and we went off to have a family dinner at Pizza Hut. After we got home and finally got the kids to bed, I found a little Christmas gift bag and tissue paper and wrapped the test. I came out into the dimly lit family room, magically lit by the Christmas tree lights and gave Ernie his early Christmas present. As I tried not to jump up and down, he opened it and I watched as the reality slowly set in for him as well as a huge smile lit his face and he jumped up and we hugged and laughed in the middle of the room for who knows how long. We would let go, look at each other, laugh and hug again. As with the other pregnancies, we wondered about who this little baby would be and how they would complete our family. Only knowing boys, neither of us could really imagine it being a girl and just figured it would be a boy. We were in Love.
Nerves
That first doctor appointment always makes me a little nervous. When our oldest son, Mason was about 2 1/2, we got pregnant after trying for about a year. When I was 11 weeks, I had an appointment. Mason and I excitedly went in, ready to hear the heartbeat and see the baby. That was when we learned that the baby had not made it. We were devastated, thrown into a whirlwind of emotions of loss and grief. That is something that sticks with you forever. So here we were again, 11 weeks along and about to see our baby for the first time. Excitement and nervousness built up as I sat there on the table waiting. Only Ernie came with me this time. As my amazing doctor came in, someone who I thank God for, she asked me what I was most nervous about for this pregnancy and I said, "This moment actually." I lied down and stared at the screen waiting to see who has been making me feel so sick. As soon as the baby comes on the screen I see life! I hear the most beautiful sound of that quick little heart beat and watch in amazement as our baby, at such a young age, kicks and squirms and constantly moves all over! My doctor says, "Looks like you're gonna have a crazy one!" I thought, "they'll fit right in to our family!" I could have lied there for days and watched that precious baby. We left there with a sigh of relief and I felt lighter than air with the love bug floating me through the rest of the day! All is well.
The Flutters and Sharing the Joy
At just 12 weeks, I felt the first flutters of this active little baby's kicks. This was much earlier than with my boys and I was so happy! At least now I could feel something to take my mind off how sick I felt. Man was I sick! I am so grateful that I never puked (other than when I had a stomach bug), but I felt like I was going to every day. That gets tiring and I felt like this baby was constantly reminding me why I felt like this and that it was all worth it. Those flutters were worth it.
On February 4th, our 10th wedding anniversary, we decided to tell our little guys the big news! We recorded their reactions, knowing how much Mason wanted a little sister and had been asking for a baby. So we got a cake that said "We are having a baby!" I'm so glad we recorded this because it shows just how much Nora was loved by her big brothers already! They were so excited as I showed them the pictures and told them that the baby would be here around August 26th and how we have to be patient to find out if it was a boy or a girl. So much Love.
Worst Fears
Nora continued to always make her presence known. I never had to stop and be still to try and feel her. She was getting stronger and every once in a while she would kick and I would tell Ernie, "baby's awake!" I was about 18 weeks along when I was laying in bed and I just realized, I don't think I've felt those kicks in the last couple of days. As a little bit of motherly panic set in, I lied in bed poking around my belly trying to get baby to kick back at me. Ernie asked me what I was doing and I told him I needed to feel the baby. As nothing kicked back to my gentle nudges, fear set in and I started to cry as my mind raced. Ernie took me in his arms and tried to soothe me, saying its still early and maybe the baby was just moving when I was up and about. I really tried to believe that and decided to just stay calm and wait a couple days for my appointment. We had a normal check up on Wednesday and then the big ultrasound was scheduled for that Friday! The next few days were mentally tough as I was overly aware of baby and desperately wanting to feel those kicks to ease my mind. I just continued to talk myself into the fact that baby was moving while I was moving. The day of the appointment came...Mason was at school so it was me and my two younger boys, Maverick and Denver. We went in like normal and I lied back, ready to hear that heartbeat that will let me breathe a sigh of relief and let me laugh at my overly emotional self. She moved it around...nothing. Tried a little longer, moving along my abdomen wondering where baby is hiding...nothing. My heart was tight and I tried to stay calm as my fears were slowly choking me. We decided to move over to the ultra sound room to get a better look. I walked across the hall in a daze, knowing what was coming, but in the fog of denial. I calmly ushered my oblivious little boys in the other room and lied on the table again. Staring at the screen, praying for a miracle, the picture comes up of my perfect little baby, I search and search for that flickering heart beat, but it's not there. I shakily asked, "There's no heart beat is there?" She looks at me with heartfelt compassion and apology and shakes her head no. I can't imagine what it's like to deliver that kind of news to expecting mothers, but I'm so thankful I had her with me. She had the boys go out to the desk and get suckers. Luckily, my sister-in-law, Michelle, worked in the office and kept them busy. She also called Ernie for me and told him that I was going to need him. As my doctor calmly explained the next steps, I was spiraling. I was in shock, disbelief and desperately trying to put my feet down in this crashing reality. I felt as though I was in a dream...a very painful, heart wrenching dream that I couldn't wake up from. Michelle came in and hugged me, told me she was so sorry and I could have the room as long as I liked. I'm so grateful she was there as well. But I had to get out of there. I felt like my emotions were going to burst and I couldn't bare to be around people when that happened. I went out to the desk and got the boys. Ernie was already on his way so I decided to wait in the parking lot with the boys until he got there. I was trying to stay calm and talk to them like normal. I was trying to have them watch out the window for Daddy, but tears kept spilling. The reality was trying to settle in and it was crushing. Ernie arrived and his mom, Liz was with him. She assumed I would need him and offered to drive him so that she could take the boys and Ernie could drive me home...because that's the kind of woman she is. We don't even have to ask; she is always there for us no matter what. She is just a kind hearted, loving mother and I am so very grateful that I have her in my life. I jumbled through the little bit of information that we knew at the time and now I had to watch as reality set in again across Ernie's face...only this time it was torture. As He drove me home, we spoke very little, finding it hard to put a sentence together. I was clutching by belly, willing the love that I had for this baby to create a miracle...praying with only feelings and silent cries because I didn't have the words. I texted my parents and sisters because I couldn't say the words out loud. My throat was being squeezed by my unwillingness to believe what had happened. When we got home, we just hugged. We would just look at each other and shake our heads in disbelief. Eight weeks earlier we were watching this little baby so full of life. Four weeks earlier I listened in awe to this baby's musical heartbeat. I was standing there with my round belly and just couldn't imagine what had happened. We talked a little about what we wanted to do. We now had to decide what we would do after delivery as far as, if we wanted to bring her home and do a funeral and bury her or have her cremated. My first reaction was that I couldn't leave my baby at the hospital. That seemed impossible. But then I would think about what we would do when we got home. Burying her and the thought of a funeral gave me no peace at all. I would never tell someone else what to do or what not to do. We had to do what felt right for us and we decided to have her cremated and then have a service/life celebration later, when we were ready. They moved up my ultrasound so the next day we were to go by the hospital to be certain of what we already knew and see if we could find any answers to what had happened. I told Ernie that he could just go back to work and finish up what he needed. I just wanted to curl up in bed and I couldn't take the silence of nothing to say. I needed to think by myself so I could stop spinning. We hugged hard and he kissed me and said he would be back soon. I numbly walked to our bedroom and lied down. I never knew that numbness was so painful. I curled up on my side, cradling my baby that I wanted to soothe and protect with every part of my being and I sobbed. Loss and pain crashing down on me while my sense of control and hope for this baby was ripped away from me. I tossed and turned but couldn't lay there in the deafening quiet. Our house is rarely quiet and it was unsettling. So I got up and I cleaned. Stopping every once in a while to hold my belly and say "I love you so much." Ernie came home with the boys later and I couldn't say anything at first. I needed some time to figure out how to gracefully tell our boys that this baby who we all love so much, is no longer with us. I knew Maverick and Denver wouldn't fully understand, but telling Mason...that was going to be hard. While the other boys were playing, we called Mason into the family room. I stuttered a little and as I sat in the recliner and he stood next to me, I held his hand and told him that the baby didn't make it. This was the hardest moment of my life. In disbelief he cried out, "the baby died?!" As my tear streaked face shook my head yes, he yelled, "Mom, no!" And the sound that came out of him is something I will never forget. He fell onto me and loudly sobbed. My super sweet, sensitive, caring boy's heart was breaking right in front of me and there was nothing I could do to fix it, but try to physically hold him together. So that's what I did for who knows how long. Ernie picked him up and placed him on me better, as he was half hanging off the side of the chair, and we held each other and cried. He loved this baby so much and was excited for our future with him/her just like the rest of us. He was feeling his first loss, his first heartbreak and that broke me all over again. I knew this was a learning moment for all of us, but especially Mason. I wanted to teach him to pray fiercely for the first time, to really lean on God like he had never had to before. I wanted him to search out any light that he could find in this seemingly black hole and hold on to it. In wanting this so badly for him, it helped me as well. I had to lean on God, I had to find the light. If not for me, for my three beautiful blessings that still need me, now more than ever. I couldn't control this situation, but I could control how I dealt with it so that's what I did. I cried out to God, I showed him my excruciating pain, laid it all out. I'm so thankful I have a God where I can do this with no guilt or shame. I knew that He knew I was not okay with this. He gave me this precious life knowing how much I would love it, long for it. And He hurts with us. He does not get joy from the brokenness of this world. He is there waiting for us to lean on Him so he can begin to heal us.
Breaking More Hearts
As the word spread through our families, the shock and loss hit hard. Love and support poured in. My parents came by that same day and prayed with us. They are a never-failing, loving, spiritual guidance who I am so grateful for. I know they wanted to take this all away for me and felt like they couldn't do anything to help. I shared with them later that they had already done the most important thing to help, long before this happened. They showed me Jesus and encouraged me to have a relationship with Him. I couldn't have survived with out Him. After we prayed and before they left, my mom knelt down and kissed my belly. I remember thinking that this baby is so loved. Later, my sister, Emily, showed up at our door. She had seen my message and came right over. Again, not only for the love she has for us, but because she already loved this baby. I know this because I love all of my nieces and nephews as soon as I learn of their existence as well. I opened the door and we were both sobbing...hugging each other, trying to ground ourselves in this reality. Ernie took Maverick, who looked very concerned, yet uncomfortable, to another room to play video games. He gladly took this opportunity to get out of there and left us to talk. I again went through what little we knew and we mourned the life of this little baby, still warm and cradled in my belly. With out saying it, I knew that she would be there for me however I needed her to be. My two other sisters were in Florida and I hated knowing how much they would want to be here and feeling helpless so far away. Kimberly was even trying to get flights home even though she had just gotten there.
I feel as though this whole process has so many emotions...a lot of times conflicting emotions which is even more unsettling. Part of me wanted to go deliver right away because I longed to have this baby in my arms so I could cradle and kiss and love it. I wanted to kiss this baby all better and love it like only a mother could. But then the other part of me wanted to keep this baby in my belly because I knew once he/she came out, that was it. I would have to say goodbye in the same moments of meeting and I wasn't ready to do that. I never would be.
Sharing My Faith With My Boys
That night consisted of many talks with Mason. He is a bit of an over-thinker as well as all of his other sweet traits so I spent the night reassuring him that she was happy and whole in heaven. She will never know pain or sadness. He was struggling with the fact that she wouldn't know who he was which brought us back to the book "Heaven is For Real," the one for children. In that book, a little boy visits heaven and is greeted and hugged by a sister he never knew he had. This made Mason smile. He also started asking a little scarier questions like, "Do you think when the baby was kicking, they were dying?" His poor little heart. I assured him that this baby was growing and kicking as it should have been because they were strong and happy. I really let Mason in on my pain as well because I wanted him to see that his feelings and questions were valid. We were going to get through this together, with God. I told him that we were going through a dark time, but there is a light at the end of the tunnel and God wants to help us get to that light. He wants us to lean on Him when we are weak so we can continue in the right direction. I told him that it is possible to get stuck in the dark, but we have to move forward and God wants that for us.
Maverick doesn't fully understand. He doesn't understand that death is a permanent thing. He would ask once in a while if the baby was still dead. He does sense our sadness and I can tell it makes him uncomfortable. At one point, during those first few hours he flat out said, "Mom, stop crying." He just wanted it to go away...didn't we all. But he would randomly come up to me and say "I love you, Mama." That was the best gift that kid could have given me. Denver, who was two at the time, didn't have a clue. I was so jealous of his carefree play and laughter. At one point during that first day, Mason was getting frustrated that his brothers weren't getting it; that they weren't upset. I explained to him that them not understanding is a gift to us. I told him about how I had been crying so much and I was so sad, but Maverick and Denver were playing in front of me and Maverick got him laughing so hard that I laughed too. It almost surprised me. A small glimpse of light in the darkness. I felt that every moment was a teachable one in that space, which was good, yet exhausting. I wanted to curl up in my room, check out and I would have if it wasn't for my boys. They needed me and I needed them.
Decisions
The next day we got ready to go to the ultrasound. The dreamlike state in full affect as we prepared for something that we had been looking forward to, now scared and numb. While at the ultrasound, I asked if we could please have some pictures and thankfully we could. Again, I watched this perfect looking baby as she took measurements of everything. I was desperately searching for that heartbeat again. We still couldn't see any answers to what had happened and with how the baby was laying, we couldn't tell if it was a boy or girl either. I called the office and talked to someone, who luckily I have known for years through out all of my other pregnancies, to discuss the plan and my options. I was to be induced on the normal OB floor of the hospital. I was told that it would be the same as a full term labor and the epidural would be available. I could go in right in the morning the next day or I could take the weekend if I needed more time. I chose to do it as soon as I could. I desperately wanted to hold my baby, but also knew that I would just be stuck in this in-between land until I delivered. There would be no healing or dealing with it at all until I saw my baby.
Preparing For The Worst
Preparing for the next morning was one of those surreal moments. I felt like I was nesting as I was picking up the house and packing bags for the kids to go to Grandma Blough's and mine to go to the hospital. I kept forgetting what I was about to do. I grabbed my video camera at one point and realized that I'm not about to have those normal moments with my new baby. I didn't have any pregnancy pictures with this baby yet so I had my husband come out to the front yard with me and take a couple. I needed something I could hold on to forever the way I wish I could hold this baby forever. I didn't have it in me to get all dolled up so I threw my hair in a bun and threw a dress on. I just needed a picture with my baby...one that showed my love for this precious life.
I couldn't read, watch tv or listen to music. Everything gave me this strange anxiety and dread. Like the world was still moving and I was watching it while locked in my glass box of pain and longing. I am not typically an easily stressed person and I can usually get myself to a good place no matter the situation, but this was bigger than me. There was no way around this...only through. There was no quick thought process that could make this ok. There was just dealing with it and that was frustrating.
As I sat at my computer, editing the pictures that Ernie had taken, I was overcome. I had been "keeping it together," but felt it bubbling right there at the surface. It was coming and I think it needed to. I needed to succumb to it before it tore me apart. Mason kept coming back to my room to talk to me and could tell I was struggling. I told him to go watch the movie with his brothers and bless his sweet little soul, he kept repeating the same words of encouragement to me that I had said to him. He really is a gem in situations like this. As he walked out I told Ernie to try and keep him in the family room for a while because even though he had definitely seen me cry, it was not like what was coming. There is a time to be strong and a time to let go of the "control" and stop holding it down and just feel it. I needed this moment...the last night with my little baby. There's no way for a mother to prepare for this. I needed to sort out my worries and fears, throw them out to God. I'm just someone who prefers to have these moments alone so I can fully let go. I thought about how the next day might go. I had been doing the weekly updates on what your baby looks like at that stage, but I didn't really know...especially since at this point he/she had been gone a few days and I didn't know what that would do to the baby either. I'm not one to google things, but I felt like I needed to be prepared for what my baby was going to look like...so I did it. All of the pictures that I came across were ones that had been taken hours after delivery, which is not a good thing and taken with regular flash cameras, making those precious babies look a little scary. So it didn't really ease my nerves on that. I knew I would be bringing my camera and I asked Emily to take some pictures for me so I could spend every second soaking in my little baby with out looking at him/her through a lens. Of course, she was more than willing even though she had her own fears and worries about what it was going to be like and her strength to get through this traumatic day. After that, I prayed and I prayed hard. More desperately than I ever had before. I begged Him for the strength to get through this in one piece. I didn't want to lose myself when I lost my baby. I prayed that Ernie and I would continue to lean on each other and also give each other grace to deal with this as each of us needs too. I knew we wouldn't always be on the same page and we wouldn't need the same things all the time so I prayed for continued understanding and grace. I begged Him for everyone else that was going to be in the room to have peace because I am not the only one losing him/her. Another conflicting emotion is that I hated how sad all of my family and friends were because I couldn't do anything to fix it and yet I'm so overly grateful that so many people love this baby enough to mourn. I think any Mom that loses a baby just wants her baby to be acknowledged and loved. I was blessed enough to have this. Most of all, I prayed for the moment after my baby was delivered. I prayed that I had clear eyes to really soak in the few fading moments I was going to have with my baby. I didn't want to be a crying mess the whole time. I wanted to take it all in and study their features and pour all my love for this baby into those moments.
It's Time
Friday, April 1st, we arrived at the OB. This was the date I had previously been looking forward to because it was the original date of our big ultra sound. We got everyone around and took them over to grandma and grandpa Blough's. This is something I can't thank them for enough. I was able to go to the hospital and focus on my smallest baby with out one worry about how my boys were doing. I knew they were being loved and in a happy environment. This was the best gift they could have given us.
We arrived at the hospital and I wanted to run. I didn't want to go in there. As I walked in to the OB section of the hospital, again in disbelief, I was greeted by a nurse who was ready for me with gentle kindness and compassion. This is something else I am so grateful for. I was so well taken care of in this impossible situation. I'm sure I didn't show enough gratitude in those moments. As I walked down the hallway, I kept seeing the pictures of newborns on the wall and I physically had to close my eyes to protect me from the heavy pain that I felt when seeing them. I went into the bathroom with tears in my eyes and put on the gown...the same ones I wore during the excitement of waiting to meet my other babies. I came out and lied in the bed, just trying to breath. The simplest act of breathing was excruciating. Ernie was there for me in every way I needed him. He silently held me and let me cry or he distracted me when I just couldn't cry anymore...I realized just how skilled he was at funny little distractions throughout this. One thing I remember clearly is him saying, "I need you to lean on me." I'm a little bit of a loner when it comes to dealing with things. Not necessarily in a bad way...I'm not holding in all my feelings. I just handle things by processing it all in my head before talking about it. I like to have a clear idea of how I think about things rather than go off of pure emotion. But Ernie saying that to me meant a lot. It was an eye opener. He was telling me what he needed to get through this because he was also losing a child. It wasn't just me...is it different for me? Yes. But he loves this baby too and he felt helpless just like I did. He wanted me to let him care for me and I did. Because again, this was bigger than all of us. We needed to go through this together. We needed to lean on each other so that we didn't find ourselves on opposites sides, months down the road. We had to hold each other and be understanding...the artful dance of dealing with grief together, while allowing grace as we heal differently and at different paces. The fact was we were both losing a child we loved. We were both hurting and scared and dealing with something outside of our control. So we stayed steady and grounded in our love for each other, our family and our blessings.
It was time to get started after signing a bunch of necessary but exhaustingly hard papers. It was early in the morning and typically the induction process takes 6-12 hours. Naively we thought, well we can probably go home tonight then. I was a little nervous because we were using cytotec which I had never had a good experience with, but that was the only option where I could have a clear head and a full baby so that's what I was going to do. They put in the first dose and we waited...
While we waited, we talked about names. We had not definitely picked one out and we needed to have two ready. Shortly before all of this happened I was reading an article and came across the name Nora. It just hit me with how beautiful it was so I did a screen shot. I hadn't told anyone about it so I tentatively told Ernie and he loved it. Through out the last few days, I thought about my grandma a lot and how she must have greeted this baby with her warm smile and loving embrace. My grandpa had actually said, "I bet she knew right who this baby was when they got to heaven." With that in mind, we chose NovaLee for her middle name after my amazing grandma, Nova Lee Blankenship.
My parents came to sit with us. And a little later my sister Emily arrived too. I'm so grateful for their presence. They were loving and thoughtful, but it also brought in some normalcy in those dark moments. We would talk about normal things and it would ease the tension for a bit. We even laughed once in a while which you would think would be impossible, but that was their gift. It was a surreal moment for all of us. I remember going into the bathroom and shutting the door and the sobs just came. The reality crushed me with no warning. I would find that this would happen to me a lot for months to come and now, even years later . Anytime I would get alone, it was like a wave that I didn't even know I was holding back would crash into me. How was I going to do this? Ernie heard me and came in and just held me. And then I don't even remember what his comment was, but it made me laugh and I pulled myself together and returned to the bed.
The contractions continued to intensify which again, made it surreal. I kept thinking, this is good; it's getting closer; I'm about to meet my baby! Only to remember that while I was going to see my baby, they were already gone. We talked about an epidural, but I just kept thinking, well, if it's going to go fast I don't think I need one. I would rather not risk it just for a little bit of time. However, it got very intense and with more and more meds, the contractions were right on top of each other and strong! I had to really breath through them and close my eyes and I just didn't have it in me to do hours of that. So I decided to get the epidural so I could continue to talk calmly with people and keep preparing myself for the moments to come. So I got it and it worked...on one side. The pain felt so intensified with one side numb. They came in and adjusted it, but it just wasn't taking. As the hours went by, I had no relief, making it a long night. I kept clicking that button which was making one side completely numb and the other side was constant hard contractions. They offered to take it out and do it again, which I should have taken them up on, but I just kept thinking, "if it's about to happen anyway, I'll just ride it through." I get a little nervous with the whole epidural in the spine thing and didn't want to cause any unnecessary risk by doing it again. So I was up pretty much all night, uncomfortable and in pain, body and heart. They offered me ambien many times, but I wasn't going to risk feeling groggy when I met my baby. Hour after hour came and went and it wasn't happening. I had so many meds in me and just the stress my body was going through, I got the shakes, which I am sure many others have gotten during labor. I did with my boys, but his was multiplied by a lot. My body was aching from the non stop shaking. The only thing that would stop it for a second was if Ernie would lay across me and put weight on me. The pain was constant enough where I finally gave in and decided to try another epidural. I should have done that way earlier, but it is what it is.
I was finally not in pain anymore so it was a little less traumatic...I could think clearly again with out the frustration of pain. Twenty four hours had passed and I still hadn't delivered. My body was not letting this baby go and I couldn't blame it. This was all wrong. So I just continued to pray hard for clear eyes and the ability to soak in my baby. The hospital provided us with a little gown and hat and blanket which I appreciate so much. However, we just didn't feel like the gown was what we wanted. Emily ran to the store and bought a tiny baby doll so we could use that hat and outfit and also some burpee blankets...pink and blue. We also had some extra paper so we could get more feet prints than just the one on the birth certificate. We seemed to be all "ready" though you are never really ready to say goodbye to your child.
It had been 30 hours of labor when it was finally time. I can't describe what that moment felt like...getting ready to push. I couldn't wait to see my baby and hold them and kiss them. I was also scared of what they would look like, of saying goodbye, of my reaction. There was also that misleading feeling of excitement because it was all just too surreal, too close to a normal delivery and for moments it felt like everything was fine...like I was full term and about to have a healthy baby. As my head spun, I pushed...
Meeting Our Beautiful Daughter
And there she was...Nora NovaLee. I actually thought she was a boy at first...or maybe that's just what I assumed because that's all I know. But there she was, my beautiful daughter and I was falling in love all over again with this little girl that I already felt I knew. Ernie cut the cord and I took my baby in my longing hands. She was curled up on her side and she was precious...nothing like those scary pictures I had seen. Besides her coloring, she was perfect. Her tiny little muscular legs and little round belly. Her cute little elbows and most precious feet I'd ever seen. Her hands were like a dream, so perfect and tiny with a tiny little finger nail on each perfect little finger. She looked just like our middle son, Maverick, the way her little top lip stuck out further than the bottom one and she had a pointy little chin like him too. I just kept coming back to her hands though...so beautiful and just so perfect. I didn't think about it until later, but God had given me what I had been desperately begging for. I was looking at her in awe and with pure love, with out the dread and tears and aching...although that was coming. But I had that time with her. Emily took some pictures of her in my hands and I would move her a little and say "oh wait, can you get another one like this? She looks so cute like this." I still remember her little hands squishing against her adorable little cheek...making it look like she was smiling. We put the hat on her and wrapped her in the blankets and just stared at her in wonder. This is who I've been loving. This is who was making me sick for months, making me gain a lot of squishy weight. This is who had been kicking me and been so full of energy. This is who my sons have been loving and were so excited for. This is whose kicks my husband was waiting to feel. This is my daughter. She is so loved. When Ernie was ready, he held onto his daughter and it was a sight that deeply moved me and broke me at the same time.
Man, I wanted this to all be different. I wanted her to be wiggling and trying to see her new surroundings. I wanted her to hear me when I told her how much I loved her and how pretty she was. I even wanted to hear her crying. But this is what we had. This moment. This heartbreaking, short and sweet, fading moment. My parents and Emily all took a turn passing this beautiful little girl around. Meeting who they had been praying for and who they also loved. I turned to Ernie and said, "Your mom would love to meet her. You should call her and give her the option if it's not too hard for her."
Unfortunately, my placenta did not all come out so I had to go have a d&c. I was feeling nauseous from not eating or sleeping for who knows how long and just from everything my body had just gone through. As they got me ready to go to the OR, Nora was getting measured and weighed which I wanted done, however, I hated seeing her laying on the scale with no blanket and no one holding her. I hated leaving her. I wanted her to be held the whole time. That image of her laying there "alone" haunted me as I was put to sleep. I guess I talked a lot when I was coming to after the procedure, which I don't remember, but I'm told it was hard to listen to. If it was anything like what I was feeling when I was put out, I'm sure I was worried about Nora. While I was out, they did her hand and foot prints. They were having trouble getting the ink to stick to her skin so they found my make-up and put some of my powder on her feet in hopes that would help. My mother-in-law, Liz was there when I woke up and she was able to see Nora and hold her, which I am so glad. I wanted the world to meet this precious gift. When I got her back, she was already changing. They had taken a little chunk of her heal to do a biopsy which was needed, but I hated it. She was getting darker and her skin was changing, making her precious face change as well.
Emily gave us this beautiful gift of a little willow girl with a gold heart that I look at every day. Liz gave me a beautiful necklace with an angel with a little heart in it...again, she is so loved and has touched so many hearts.
The Impossible Goodbye
Everyone said their goodbyes and left us to have some time with her. I was going to have her stay in our room overnight, however, she was changing too fast...starting to resemble those scary images I had seen online. I wanted to remember her in all her perfections. I didn't want to see her any different. I stared at her a bit longer and willed all my love to her. I placed her in her bed and Ernie and I talked. We talked about how this was the right time and we both wanted to make sure it was ending on our terms (as much as it could be) and with no regrets. We hugged for a long time and decided this was the right time. We called the nurse and my eyes didn't leave her bed the whole time as I waited for that door to open. As I said we were ready, my insides were screaming, panicking, and everything in me wanted to say never mind, we're not ready! But the truth was, I was never going to be ready. And it was only going to get harder to look at her and I couldn't face that. I needed to preserve her in my mind. And so...she was gone. Another moment with no words to describe. Loss, sorrow, agony, disbelief, a crushing weight.
Ernie's brother, Chris and his wife Michelle came to show us their support. I was sad that they had just missed seeing Nora, but relieved at the same time since she didn't look good anymore. I didn't want them to see her like that. As tired as I was, I was so grateful for more family who loved us and Nora.
I passed out after that, completely exhausted, emotionally and physically. When I woke up, Ernie had a suspicious grin. I asked him what he was up to. He showed me that he had taken a picture of me sleeping. Normally I would be irritated because no one wants a picture of themselves sleeping, but it has become such a gift of love. He told me that he couldn't explain the feeling that he had while sitting there watching me sleep. He said he was in awe of how strong I was and how proud he was of me for how I got through everything that had just happened. I felt so loved.
I kept getting a high fever so I had to stay another night. I honestly didn't even notice it with everything going on in my mind and heart. I was numb except for the excruciating pain of longing for Nora.
The next day it was time to leave. My wonderful doctor came into our room and told us all of the things she medically needed to...and then she was just a compassionate person, caring for us with her gracious words of understanding and wisdom and love. She was also very sneaky because we didn't even see her leave a card. As I read it with tears in my eyes, I realized that not only do I just love that she is my doctor, but God put her in this with us for a reason. I can't say enough about how very grateful I am for her. I'll cherish her and her card forever.
We packed up and called the nurse. It was time. How do I leave with out her? I sat in a wheel chair feeling all wrong. I can't leave her! I wanted her in my arms, in my belly...my body was screaming for her as I sat there quietly while she wheeled me outside. The war between my aching heart and my mind trying to be rational was raging on. I got in the car, defeated.
After picking up a prescription, it was time to get our boys. I missed them. I missed normal life even though nothing was normal right now. We got there and of course Liz understood just how hard it was for me to leave her. She was just finishing up cleaning up after Mason who had just puked. The fear of a sickness going through my house was too much. I could not handle the flu. Life really doesn't just stop when something like this happens. Then Mason started telling me what he had eaten that day and clearly he was living it up at grandma and grandpa's house with the junk food and I figured we were all safe.
Before we left, Ernie's dad, Marv came over and gave me a big hug and told us how sorry he was. With tears in his eyes, I saw another heart that Nora had touched. Her love has no bounds; it transcends all even after she was gone; even though most never got to officially meet her.
Then we went home, me in my ridiculous hospital underwear/Mommy diaper and no baby. I felt so lost with out her. So empty. As we continued to try to wrap our heads and hearts around it, Mason gave me a little book that he had made. I immediately started crying, which I think scared him a bit so I quickly told him that they were grateful tears. He is such a sweet, kind hearted kid. It melted my broken heart.
A Few weeks later, I had a follow up appointment to discuss the results from Nora's labs and testing. When she was born, other than the fact that her cord was very twisted, there were no other signs to explain what had happened. Part of me wanted to know and the other part just didn't care. If we found out that she had a genetic disorder, it wouldn't have made it any easier...there would be no relief to it. I would still want her back just the same. I felt so protective and defensive of her and I didn't want one person to even think that maybe it was for the best. Like it would be easier if something was wrong with her. I love her fiercely no matter what the test results say. I still want her back more than anything, no matter what.
Her test results showed that she was absolutely perfect. There wasn't a thing wrong with her. Her cord only had two vessels instead of 3 and she just twisted it shut, cutting off her nutrients and oxygen. I already knew she was perfect so that was no surprise, but I just felt so bad for her. It seemed so senseless. As a mother, who just wants to protect her children, this was hard to process. I know that there was nothing I could have done about it, but it just seemed like such a simple thing...I wished so badly that I could have fixed it, that I could have helped her. Just another feeling of helplessness. My baby girl wasn't getting what she needed and I couldn't do a thing about it. There is no guilt with this, just helplessness.
Seeing God Through His People
So many people brought us dinner, wrote us letters or reached out by messages. It was truly humbling. You never know how often people face these tragedies until it happens to you. I had so many women reach out to me with similar stories. It's a double edged sword because part of me was relieved to have others who understood and the other part of me was heartbroken for them and wishing they never had to feel this way. I have prayed a lot for these women and total strangers who have gone or will go through this. I prayed that they all had a support system like we do. God really showed Himself to us through all of His people.
My sister, Kimberly brought over a beautiful wind chime with Nora's name on it and beautiful messages. It hangs out on our front porch as a symbol that she is a part of us, a clear presence in our family.
Many people also offered songs to listen to. They were all beautiful, however I was not able to listen to them for months. I just couldn't. I still couldn't listen to music or watch movies or shows...it just made me anxious and I couldn't stand it. I couldn't stand all of these normal things when I felt so crazy off balanced inside. At one point I was driving somewhere where I happened to be all by myself which is very rare. Whenever I'm by myself, I cry...I don't plan on it, it just happens. So as I drove and cried, I just started singing with out even thinking, "He loves us, oh how He loves us, oh how He loves us, oh how He loves." Now, I know that not everyone reading this may believe in God or they may think it's strange when people say God spoke to them. I know how this may all sound, but this is my truth. I had obviously heard this song before, but i didn't know it at all. I couldn't tell you when I had heard it and I couldn't have told you another word of that song. I wasn't thinking about it, I hadn't heard it in forever and yet it just came out through my sobs. I was kind of shocked by it, but I knew it was God telling me just what I needed to hear. He wasn't saying, "trust Me," or "be strong," or 'this is My plan." He was simply saying, "I love you." I had never experienced Him in that way or felt Him so close. This really hit me hard because I couldn't stand to listen to other beautiful songs like "It is Well With My Soul" because it wasn't. I would get to that eventually, but I couldn't let her go. It wasn't just ok with me because it was part of a bigger plan. I wanted nothing more than to have her back. In that moment, I didn't really care about a bigger plan. I wanted my daughter. God knew this and that's why I believe he didn't push me to simply trust Him or be strong. He just wanted me to know He was there and He loved me and I did. I love my God because I never had any guilt about my feelings. I knew that God gave me this beautiful little girl knowing how much I would love her. He understood my pain and felt it with me. I kept going back to a verse in the bible, John 11:35, "Jesus wept." He doesn't want us to be perfect before we come to Him. He wants all of us, even when we don't agree with His plans. Just take it to Him. There were a couple people who had made statements like "I just don't know why God would do this." I never really felt like that...I never saw Him as this guy up on a throne messing with people's lives for the heck of it. I think we live in a broken world. I believe he feels our pain and wants us to be happy. He didn't do this to me, but He will do this with me. If nothing else can come from this, I pray that me and my family feel a stronger connection to God and have a better understanding of Jesus' love. Hopefully we can all love others like Jesus...a love that doesn't have to be earned and is never withheld. It's always there for every human being on earth, no matter what.
Another group of ladies showed Jesus' love by getting together and giving us such a generous gift just to help out and maybe not let us stress about getting groceries that week or whatever. Along with that came two framed sayings that touched my heart. Sometimes it can be hard to accept gifts, not because you're not grateful, but you just think "we don't need this, they shouldn't spend any money or time on us." But I remembered a sermon that our pastor did where he said to let people help you out. To not take that away from them. This is one of those times where people feel really helpless. They want to help in some way, but in reality, they know they can't stop this pain. So they show their love with dinner or gifts in hopes that we don't feel alone in it. We have been so very blessed with this sentiment. I am so grateful for our friends and family.
One friend, who lost her 16 year old daughter 11 years before, was selflessly gracious with her time, words and gifts. I'm sure it hurt her to listen and talk about my loss, bringing her's to the surface (although I know it's never far away), but she did. I will never be able to fully comprehend her loss and what she's been through, but I know a mother's heart and I pray for her's regularly. She also hand-made me a beautiful solar light that shines for Nora every night. So much love.
One of the greatest gifts that anyone gave us or could ever give us was to talk about her. I love that people talk about her and say her name. The sound of her name is music to my ears and it warms my heart. It shows me that her story didn't end, that she was here and she touched so many. She is always on my mind and in my heart and I never want her to be forgotten.
In saying that, I feel like it's also necessary to say that I was never once offended or hurt if someone didn't talk about her. One of the hardest things after we lost her was just going out to normal things and seeing people. I always did it because I didn't want to get comfortable hibernating because I knew I was capable of that. I was never going to heal if I did that. But I hated making people feel uncomfortable. I almost wanted to post on fb, which I really should have, that if you run into me and don't know what to say so you don't say anything, that's fine. Please don't feel bad about it or worry about my feelings that you didn't say anything. I have never taken that as a sign that someone doesn't care or is being insensitive. There are no "right" words for something like this. On the other hand, if you want to say something, that's fine too. Don't be afraid that you'll make me sad or remind me of her. I'm always thinking about her anyway and I love talking about her. I have also never been offended by something anyone said...not because everyone had the perfect words, but because I know that even if what they said isn't helpful, it came from a good place of caring. I often felt bad for the people who were experiencing great joy around me at that time because I hated that they felt like they couldn't share it with me or wanted to tone it down. I can't say I ever had immense feelings of "Why them and not me?" I know some women experience this so I'm not saying that it's bad or that I don't understand, but that wasn't something that I experienced. I genuinely felt happy for people when they got pregnant or delivered their babies or any other joyful occasion! I know that life doesn't stop outside my front door just because we are having a hard time. Shortly after I lost Nora, my sister-in-law found out that she was going to have a baby girl! She graciously called me to let me know and I so much appreciate her thoughtfulness and compassion, but I felt so bad that she was feeling guilty about this beautiful gift she had been given. I understand why she was feeling this way. I knew it was out of love, but it just made me feel bad for them that they felt they couldn't fully celebrate. I wanted them to! No one knows what a blessing a healthy baby is like a grieving mother. I was genuinely happy for them and I couldn't wait to meet my niece. This doesn't mean that it didn't sting. It did and I know that's what she was worried about. I sat down after our phone call and I cried. Not because I was sad that she was having a girl, but because I wanted mine. That feeling doesn't take away any of the excitement or love that I had for them and their baby girl.
Going out into the world also made me feel uncomfortable because I just felt like no one understood what I was feeling and I always wondered, if I seem really sad that day, are people going to worry about me and think I can't handle this? And if I seem fine, are they going to think I'm over it and not know how much I love her? It seems like a silly thought, but it added to my anxiety. I have never dealt with anxiety before. I've always been able to get my head around the situation and go with it. I have never been overly emotional and stayed pretty grounded through things. Now, I'm suddenly thrown into something where I feel anxious all of the time and I can't get a handle on my emotions and it's just unsettling. I hate this feeling. I think on the outside I seem ok because I'm still living life, I have to. I'm a mom and I need and want to be there for my boys, even if it's just being normal. I need to show them how to handle life with grace. They are such a blessing because they kept me grounded when I began to spiral. They forced me out of bed in the morning and pushed me to keep going. I was able to have real joy and real laughs through such a dark time of pain and tears. I'm so grateful for that. On the other end of that, I also felt like I had to hold back a lot of emotions when I needed to let go and that is exhausting. I am NEVER alone so even when I needed to let the emotion out, I couldn't. I would run to Meijer and it would hit me while grocery shopping...always right there at the surface, ready to burst. I would rush through the aisles feeling breathless and my gut twisted. I would have to physically hold my stomach and it took everything in me not to grimace in pain. I would get in my car and just cry the whole way home. As awful as that felt, it was healthy to get it out. Then I could go inside when I got home, after a deep breath and hug my boys and be so grateful for them. It's amazing how you can feel grief and longing and also feel so blessed at the same time.
Silly, unexpected things would trigger the emotions. Any time I write a birthday card or anything to someone where I am signing my family's names for instance. It still hurts me deeply to not write her name on them. Of course she is part of our family, but that always reminds me of what we've lost. The absence of her name there stares back at me and screams for my attention. I think it will always be something that hits me. I still to this day, almost 3 years later, can not walk by the girl department of the store with out wincing. I still sometimes have to close my eyes and look the other way to catch my breath. It's just something that hits me. The longing of wanting to care for her here. I had a pair of little girl socks for a while (something that was accidentally left out of a gift that I was giving someone and I thought I would just keep them in case I ever had a girl) and couldn't really bare to have them in my house anymore so I gave them to my sister for her daughter. I had seen her wearing them before and she looked so cute and it didn't really bother me. One time we were at my parents for a family gathering and she had worn those socks and taken them off like most toddlers do and I came in the family room and saw one them laying on the floor. It seems silly, but seeing it there, in a normal, every day setting, worn and played in really hit me. I thought about it for days. That image of that sock still pops into my head some times. Another time I went to the bathroom at another sisters house and one of her daughter's dresses was just hanging in the laundry room. It was probably just washed from her wearing it and waiting to be worn again. Waiting to be twirled around in. I had to really gather myself before leaving that bathroom. There is a need within my whole being that isn't going anywhere.
I have an amazing church that we are blessed to be a part of. My dad actually works there as well. While Nora was still in my belly, he told some people at church about what was going on and they were so caring that they offered to pay for some sessions with an incredible grief counselor. My Dad gave me her information and encouraged me to call her and talk with her as she specializes with women/families who have lost a child. I wasn't so sure about it. It made me uncomfortable as I said before, I'm kind of a think-it-through-on-my-own type. I couldn't bear to call before I delivered so I held onto the information, thinking it sounded too far out of my comfort zone. I could tell people thought I should go and talk to her, which gave me the initial thought of, "great, they don't think I can handle this." But I quickly realized they just wanted to help. We were all crossing unknown, treacherous territory and no one knew exactly what to do. This was my parents way of helping. A few days after I had Nora, I snuck away to the laundry room, shut the door, sat on the bench and stared at the number written on a crumpled piece of paper. I took a deep breath and called, getting her voice mail. I left a quick message telling her a little about what happened. I missed her call back so she left a message. In it she said "I am so sorry for the death of your baby." For whatever reason, that stopped me cold. I guess it had just never been said out loud like that. I shuttered, cried and tried to steady my breath. It took me many days to call back.
Finally realizing that this was bigger than me and desperately wanting to heal and feel better, I called back and set something up. I figured, it can't hurt. I really am glad that I went. It was just nice to talk about her and not feel bad or wonder if I was hurting someone or making them uncomfortable. I was able to really talk about my pain and anxiety with out feeling judged...actually, most of the time she would say, "of course you feel that way. You are longing to mother your child." She understood and that alone was healing and validating. I talked about things with others, but I was a bit ashamed I guess to talk too much about my anxiety and pains in my stomach when I thought about her, felt my empty belly, or even just passed a store that I was gonna buy something for her at. I didn't want people to worry too much and I didn't want to seem weak. My grief counselor asked to see pictures of her to get to know her more and always called her by her name. She had been a nurse before she became a counselor so she was so knowledgeable and caring. She was a another gift, another light in the darkness and I'm so thankful for her. One of the things that she told me that stays with me to this day is that while we are pregnant with our babies, their cells are in our bodies and they stay there forever. This amazed me. A part of her is literally and physically a part of me forever. I just love that. Even my boys will be with me forever.
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Time To Celebrate Nora!
Soon it was time to plan Nora's service. We wanted to really celebrate her life. Yes, we mourn for her, but we also love her and wanted celebrate that she was here. Planning this was something that I could still do for her and even though I wished it was for her birthday party or something, I was happy to do this in her honor. We called a pastor we knew from our church and he was so kind and compassionate and so willing to help us. He didn't hesitate to commit to leading her service and we set up a meeting with him. While we talked to him about our experience and talked about how God has gotten us through and showed Himself to us in so many ways...through the support of family and friends and in the quiet calming moments that can only be given by God in a time like this. Our pastor has had his own loss and was so compassionate towards us, he even wept with us. I think once you've experienced any kind of loss, your heart just goes out to others more. One thing that I remember him saying which stuck with me was actually advice for others and what to say to people going through a loss. He said the worst thing people can say is that they understand or try to give you advice on how to handle it because they don't understand. The best thing to say is just, 'I can't imagine what you're going through, but I'm here for you.' That's so true. I can't ever thank him enough for the love he put into our daughter's service. One of the first e-mails he sent me was just asking for some details. I started typing her birthdate and measurements and just kind of went into her story. He actually read that response at her service which turned out to be perfect.
What I was really excited for was all of the details in making it a beautiful tribute to Nora. I imagined it all in my head. So beautiful just like her. First, I wanted to start her garden and I wanted it to have a gate with a wood door. Ernie did the gate and I planted the flowers and a tree for her...with a little help from our boys. We keep adding a little more to it and it now has a little bench. It has become a place where I can sit and breathe and think about her. We wanted the celebration at our house with our immediate families (which ended up being just over 50 people!) and I wanted tall tree trunks coming out of the yard with light pink and white tooling draped around creating a sheer tent with white linen tables and white chairs...and my awesome husband made that happen! He cut small trees from our woods, got a post hole digger and got them up! Big bulbed lights hung everywhere with flowers on every table with a rustic touch of different vases on each table that I had decorated with twine, lace, ribbon or paint. We had a beautiful cake on a rustic table top on whiskey barrels with pretty pink lace. The cake was made by a friend I went to high school with and it was the prettiest cake I had ever seen. My sister, Kimberly actually cried when we had to cut it. It was beautiful.
I made a burlap banner with the letters of her name in a beautiful pink. I wanted something behind it and compiled ideas from Pinterest. We built a ladder archway of sorts out of branches and used twine to hang small vases with baby's breath in them. I hung a picture of me with Nora still in my belly, with the quote, "A mother's responsibility is to handle the possible and trust God with the impossible," in a pink frame with a touch of lace. I made an album of the pictures we took in the hospital. I had that laying near the cake and had the pastor announce that they were there for whoever wanted to look at them, but if someone didn't want to, that was perfectly fine too. I know not everyone wants to see her and that it wouldn't be healthy for everyone so I would never be offended if someone didn't look. We had her last ultrasound picture out as well where she looks just as cute as a button. As awful as it is to plan a memorial service for your child, I really enjoyed it. It was healing in a way. I loved being able to buy things just for her. I could go to hobby lobby and pick out things with her in mind. I was still actively being her mother. There was one thing at Hobby Lobby that I had seen while I was pregnant and I said, if this baby is a girl, I am buying that for her room. As I prepared for her service, I thought about that circle mirror plate and accessory. I went into Hobby Lobby, hardly breathing as I prepared myself, and looked to see if it was still there. I walked around and saw it. It stopped me in my tracks and took my breath away. I held it in my hands and sobbed, right there in the aisle. I loved that I could buy it for her, but it hurt so much that she would never see it or play with it. I couldn't let it go though so now it sits in the girliest room in my house, my purple laundry room. My little reminder of my little girl in the midst of all those dirty boy clothes.
I couldn't wait to celebrate her with everyone and yet I was dreading when it would be over. I knew that once it was over, there was nothing else I could do for her, nothing else I needed to buy for her or plan for. All that would be left was dealing with the loss. But I tried to just enjoy making the banner and decorating the vases and drawing out plans and making it come to life with my amazing husband who helped me make it happen. It made me feel proud to be her mother.
It was a beautiful day. Warm and sunny. We rushed around making it look perfect. It was a little windy, which was messing up my tooling and not letting it sway gently in the breeze like it did in my mind, but I tried not to let that bother me. It was beautiful. My brother and brother in-law came over and helped set up tables and hang the lights. I rushed Maverick to his T-ball game which is so fun to watch. He's so into it and of course looks adorable in his little baseball pants! Then it was back at it! Cleaning and decorating and fighting with the wind! I had picked out a bunch of flowers the day before and my sister in law brought some peonies to add to it and helped arrange all the flowers in all the vases and buckets. I made a pretty pink punch and chicken Alfredo. My mom brought a big pan of Mac n cheese and my mother-in-law brought a big pan of baked ziti. Then others brought fruit and garlic bread, cupcakes and more! We had so much delicious food! Of course we were running behind so everyone chipped in and helped as they arrived.
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My sister-in-law had such a thoughtful and beautiful idea that she shared with all of the women on both sides of the family. She gave me a necklace that says Nora NovaLee on one side and Mommy's Lovey on the other because I always call my kids Lovey. If that wasn't beautiful enough, she also got one for herself and shared the idea with all of the women in Nora's family so they all had on a necklace with her name on it at her service. I can't tell you what that did to my heart, but wow. There is so much love for this little girl! Just amazing! Later I would find that one of my friends also bought one and she was wearing it when I saw her. The love and support that we have from family and friends is incredible. Nora has touched so many. The service was beautiful and then we all shared a meal together. We also had a pink balloon for everyone to release in honor of Nora. The balloons, which we had just gotten filled hours before had already started losing helium which was soo frustrating, but we had some that still worked and the kids played with the others so it worked out I guess. One of those things where you just have to take a deep breath and realize what's important. It was such a warm night so a lot of us just sat under the lights in the "tent" and talked and laughed and ate more food. We are so blessed with our families.
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We took most of it down the next day, needing to get the tables and chairs back. However we left the "tent" up for a little bit. At first it was just kind of a lot to do and we didn't really feel like it. But I was dreading it too. It was really over. I wanted to do it all over again. We went out and took down the lights and tooling. As Ernie started taking the posts out, it just hit me. I got all teary eyed and just said, "I knew this was going to be hard." It doesn't make much sense, but the strangest things can set something off. Ernie came and gave me a hug and told me to just go inside and he would take care of it. I didn't have to explain it. He knows me well enough and cares enough for me to give me this and let me escape it. We kept a whiskey barrel and the ladder archway in her garden. A great reminder of the celebration we had of her life.
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Life After Nora
Life just kept on going. There were games and practices to get to, weddings to shoot, camping trips to go on and memories to make with our boys. As I was fully engaged in my family, my heart still ached for Nora. I had told my grief counselor that I felt as if there was a hole in my heart for her that threatened to drain it, but my boys kept filling it up. As there was a constant leak, there was a constant pouring keeping it going, but the ache is still there. And yet sometimes, even with the hole, it would overflow. Those were moments where I would just quietly thank God. Along with missing her, I have to say, a hard part of it all was missing myself. I felt like something had shifted. I felt more fragile now in a way. It took less to rattle my emotions and make me feel tired. There was one particular night, after everyone else was asleep where my eyes happened to fall on our big family portrait. It stopped me cold and caught my breath because as I looked at myself in that picture, I felt like a ghost of her. I was looking at the before and stuck here in the after. I hated that feeling. I tried to still act like I knew I should, like I would before, but it's exhausting. I felt drained a lot and never really knew why until certain moments would happen. I find it happens when I'm with a lot of people doing normal things like the 4th of July celebrations. The strange thing is I'm usually having fun, laughing and playing games. Then I would run into the camper to get something and a weight falls on me...like I was holding it up and didn't even know it and it falls unexpectedly. I would take a minute, maybe let a few tears fall, catch my breath, grab the sunscreen and return to life. It would happen after meetings with clients as well. I would feel fine during the meeting, discussing the wedding day and then I would walk to my car, heart feeling restricted more with every step. It was like I got a break from the weight during interactions, and then it instantly returns, never too far away. I would just say, "Man I want you back, Nora." Then just pray for Gods mercy and grace and He provided. I've never felt more loved by God than in those weak moments where I felt blindsided and exhausted. Matthew 11:28, "Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened, and I will give you rest."
I still have my moments, but it did slowly get better. It wasn't a constant punch in the gut. It wasn't every time I went grocery shopping. I had fewer times where I had to catch my breath and had more carefree laughter.
People would ask if/when we would try again for another baby. For me, I just had to wait until after Nora's due date to even think about trying. That wasn't because I felt guilty for her or like I would be replacing her, but because I wanted to be as healthy as possible for my next baby. I wanted them to be completely different pregnancies. I didn't want my next baby to be a band aid to fix us from losing Nora, just something to make me feel better. I wanted to already be better. I wanted to finish Nora's pregnancy and be at a really good place and fully ready for that baby. I knew that regardless of when I got pregnant, I would love that baby, but I wanted to go through the process and do what's right for our family. Besides, getting pregnant couldn't fix anything anyway, because I wasn't longing for the pregnancy; I'm longing for Nora. I needed to have time to heal and be a healthy mom for a future baby. Mason had opened up to me again as we were sitting at the table and he said, "Whenever I can't sleep, I always think of Nora and it makes me sad because I miss her." This poor little soul has a lot to deal with. I told him that I miss her all of the time and that's ok. We know that we do not have to be sad for her because she is happy and whole, but of course we still really want her here with us. I asked him what he thinks about during these times though because I don't want him to think about all sad things. He said that one night he closed his eyes and then he just pictured her holding someone's hand and walking down by a river and that she looks so happy. I said, "well that sounds nice!" There's no doubt in my mind that God gave him that image and that she was holding Jesus' hand. I reminded him that she is happy and that we'll see her again. I asked him what he would think if we had another baby and he got quiet. Tears filled his eyes and he just said through a tightening throat, "I can't really talk right now because I'll cry." I said that it's ok to cry and he can tell me what he's thinking. He said he didn't want to make Nora feel bad, like we were replacing her. His sweet little heart. I told him that she could never be replaced. Just like having Maverick didn't replace him, a baby wouldn't replace Nora. She is a part of our family forever and if we have another baby, we will just be adding to our family. He agreed and said "That's true, she'll never be replaced."
As life would continue to show us, it relentlessly moves on. I had felt a lump in my breast before I got pregnant with Nora and had it checked out. It was about a cm and appeared to be a benign cyst. I noticed it getting larger, but wasn't sure since I was pregnant and getting bigger. After I delivered her, it rapidly grew and it was time to get it checked again. I felt like it was bigger every day and during the ultrasound I was proven right. It was now 6cm! I know most people probably think, why did you wait so long?! But as mothers tend to do, I put myself last. Also, I just couldn't deal with anything besides normal life. As I drove to the hospital to get the ultrasound done, I felt that pain in my stomach and tears in my eyes. I didn't even realize what was going on at first and then quickly realized I hadn't been back to the hospital since losing Nora. My body realized it before my head did. They walked me back into the same ultra sound room that we got our last pictures of Nora to confirm that she was no longer with us. The ultra sound began and I tried so hard, but couldn't hold it back. Tears fell through the whole thing. I told the ultrasound technician to not worry, I wasn't freaking out about the lump, just that the last time I was in the room was really hard. She was very kind and understanding. They said it appeared to be a benign mass, but couldn't be sure until they got it out and really looked around in there. So it was time for surgery. Part of the reason I'm adding this to the story is because this was another instance since I lost Nora where I just felt weak. I was just too drained to handle life's hurdles because it took all of my energy trying to adjust to life with out Nora. It's like every new challenge dives into the pool of me missing Nora. It's always been in my nature to not worry too much about anything until we get all the facts. I never see the reason to stress about things before it's necessary. So I had my familiar thoughts saying, "It is what it is. Let's just get this surgery done and move on, no big deal." And then my new drained heart that whined that I was too tired and questioned "what if it is cancer, what about my boys and oh yeah, let's think more about how much you miss Nora." Ugh, like I said, I miss my old calm, level-headed self! Luckily part of me is still there, she just has to work harder now. Surgery went well and it was benign!
We did end up getting pregnant again and were thrilled to add another little human to our family! With all of the joy and excitement did come fear. It was a hard pregnancy because everything seemed so fragile now. There was of course a lot of talk about wether this baby would be a girl or boy and to be honest, I didn't really care either way at the time. I was kind of defensive of my little baby and of Nora. I felt like people thought that if this was a girl, it would heal me, make me feel better about it. That's not how I felt. And then I felt like people were going to be disappointed if it was a boy, as if I was having another baby to replace Nora. I didn't know what this baby's purpose was going to be, but I knew that it wasn't to heal us or to make us feel better. They were their own person with their own purpose that I didn't want to be tied to their big sister. We were able to get the screening done early so we were able to find out the sex of the baby really early. I got the call that we were expecting another beautiful baby boy! In that moment, after I hung up the phone, I cried, hard. I'm not even exactly sure why. And right then, baby boy did his biggest kick yet! I put my hand on my belly and laughed and said, it's ok, buddy! Like he was saying, excuse me, I'm right here, haha. Just like when I found out about my other boys, I fell even deeper in love with this baby in my belly! I wasn't sad that he was a boy. I think it was just the end of the possibility of raising a girl. I was always very proud to be a "boy mom." And I still am, but it's different now because I'm playing the role of an "all boy mom," but I have a daughter and my heart doesn't forget that. She's a part of me now. Don't get me wrong, I love being a mom to my boys and I am not offended when people send me 'boy mom' things because I am one! But it has changed. My baby being a girl would not have healed me or replaced Nora, but it would have eased the punch in the gut whenever I pass the girl section at the store or see a girly movie come out and think "I would have taken Nora to that" or every time I see other moms with their girls. Being able to buy those girl outfits maybe would have brought some peace to that aspect of it all.
However, we were gifted with this amazing, happy, sweet little boy named Vance! He has been the most amazing blessing to our family! I don't think it's possible for a little boy to be any more loved than he is! Our boys adore him and it's a beautiful sight. All of my boys were over due, but Vance decided to come early and it just so happened to be on Nora's due date. What are the chances of that, honestly? It wasn't a planned delivery or anything. I think God knew that we would need some joy on that day and what a joy he is! While it is a date that I will always think about Nora and what life would be like with her here, it will always be Vance's day. A day to celebrate everything Vance and the blessing that he is to our lives! Just like I talked with Mason about, he didn't replace our Nora. He simply added more joy to our lives. I still miss her fiercely and that doesn't take away an ounce of the love that I have for my boys. Shortly after we had Vance we were going over to my sister's to get a quick family picture taken. The whole day I was having anxiety and I couldn't really pin point why. I ran around throwing clothes at kids and finally got around to getting in the shower and out of no where I just broke down. I had to sit in the shower and hold myself together from the pain. I sobbed and realized that this was the first family picture that we had taken since we lost Nora. I knew that it was irrational to never take a family picture again because she wasn't going to be in it, but I really struggled with it. Before we left, I ran over to her garden gate and took the angel wings off and had those in the picture with us. That might seem silly to some. I realize that having those wings in it didn't change anything, but I just couldn't leave her out of it. She is too much a part of our family and as her mother, I had to represent her.
Having Vance has brought so much joy and laughter and love! That is not to say that it was easy. Pregnancy after a loss is extremely difficult. It definitely is not all happiness and rainbows. To be honest, it is stressful. Everything seems fragile, upcoming appointments hang over your head and you want it to just be over so you can hold your healthy baby and kiss their cheeks and nuzzle their necks. I always loved pregnancy so this was difficult. I'm not saying I wasn't excited for my baby, I couldn't wait to meet him, but I just wanted to skip the pregnancy part and just have him. I didn't like feeling that way, but that was the reality. Your heart doesn't forget the aching loss and the fear of going through that again is too much to handle. If you know a mama who is carrying a baby after losing one, pray for her and her baby. Be understanding of her fears and just be there for her. A mama's love and worry for her baby is so strong it can break her. Holding Vance and caring for him was one of the best feelings in the whole world. It was joyful and blissful and the love for him grew and grew and my gratefulness for a healthy baby was immeasurable. The weight of him on my chest is a heart healer for sure. There has also been a few times where the weight of him sleeping on me is almost too much to bare. The tears flow with an unstoppable force. As his weight replaces the phantom weight of her that I have so desperately longed for, it is both healing and a reminder of what I lost with her. Sometimes he will be giggling and I can't help but wonder, what would Nora have sounded like? What would her little quirks be? Would she be tough and join all of the wrestling matches or would she sit with me and wonder what in the world is wrong with these boys, haha. Would she be loud and rambunctious or quiet and thoughtful? Would she touch my cheek while falling asleep and snuggle in or prefer to fall asleep on her own? I struggle sharing things like this with the fear that people might misunderstand what I am saying or feeling. If you haven't been through it, there is no way for you to fully understand, which I am so happy that you don't, but sometimes I think this causes some misunderstandings. Joy and pain can coexist completely; not one overpowering the other. I can love my family whole heartedly and more completely than ever before and still long for Nora and ache for what we have lost all at the same time.
I could tell from pretty early on that healing would come in stages. At the beginning, I just longed for her in my belly. I wanted her to be safe and kicking and growing. When I got a handle on that, my due date passed and I mourned the baby stage. I had to deal with the fact that I couldn't kiss her cheeks, nurse her or dress her in pink. People couldn't meet her and fall in love with her like I had. It keeps changing as time goes on, but I really do deal with it one stage at a time. I haven't been able to deal with all that is lost all at once. That seems impossible so I don't even try. Once in a while something will happen where I will think about the future and what is lost there as well. Ed Sheeren had a song come out called Perfect and the first time I heard it, I cried unexpectedly. I listened to the song through her perspective with no knowledge that I was even doing that. I realized in that moment what she would never have. She would never be the young woman falling in love and I wanted to see that. I had never even thought of her as a young adult, but as the song played, I pictured her dancing. Another time was when Beauty and the Beast was coming to theaters and I saw so many moms taking their little girls to that and it hurt my heart that I will never have those moments with my daughter. I feel the need to say that I don't get stuck in these moments of grief. I am living my life and loving my boys. I gladly go on dates with my boys and excitedly watch every Avengers and super hero movie. I love it! But the fact is, grief is here and it changes and it comes unexpectedly so I take it as it comes. I don't feel guilty for these days. A part of my heart is missing, of course I am going to feel that pain. I love Nora and I miss her and I won't apologize for that. She was here. She matters. And she is loved.
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Life has gotten back in routine. Sports, homework, family and just the every day grind. I am so blessed to be living this life, with these people, in this place. We continue to make our dream home in the woods where our beautiful boys are healthy and run around. I have a rock of a partner in my husband Ernie, an amazing family and great friends. I will always be grateful that I get to be Nora's Mommy. I got to love her and talk to her and feel her kicks. I will miss her and love her for my whole life. Even though it was much too short, I will always cherish her life and we are so grateful that she is a part of our family.
Nora, you are so loved. Just as Mason dreams of you, I know you are happy and smiling, holding Jesus' hand while you walk by the river.
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