Our June angels have names!

Your Name

i put your name in the sand.
but the waves washed it away.
i put your name on my hand.
but i washed it away the next day.
i put your name on paper.
but i accidentally threw it away.
i put your name in my heart and forever it will stay
~Shelby Ann Arthur

I mentioned the other day that I had thought about naming our June Angels. It has been 11 and 2 years since we lost them, but it's never too late, right?

I never had a feeling about their genders. Both pregnancies were over so quickly after finding out about them. When I told Eric that I wanted to name them, we decided to come up with unisex names.

Our June 2000 angel is Tristan Avery. I've always loved the name Tristan and wanted to use it for Christian, but Eric thought it was too girly. I've seen little boys and girls named Tristan, so it seemed perfect for our first angel.

Our June 2009 angel is Riley Addison. We both like Riley and I think at some point we even tossed it around for one of the other kids, same with Addison.

All of our kids, except Kelsey, now have middle names that start with vowels. I'm a theme person. I went back and forth about Kelsey not fitting the "theme," but her middle name was picked long before her first name--Grace. Because she is proof of God's Grace for us. After losing Sydney, I knew if we had another girl, her middle name would be Grace.

It feels so good to finally have named our other two angels. This past weekend, we included their names on our October 15 activities. I'll post more about that tomorrow!

A little brown bear

As Long As I Live You Will Live

As Long As I Live You Will Be Remembered

As Long As I Live You Will Be Loved

~Author unknown

For the first year after Sydney died, I slept with a little brown bear that some sweet nurse put in her hands on the last day we held her. When I gave her to the nurse before I was discharged, I held onto the bear. They brought back her clothes and blankets, and still, I held onto the bear. Other moms left with their new babies bundled up against the cold February wind, and I wrapped this little bear in Sydney's pink blanket that she was wrapped in on the day she was born.

Over the first few months, I gathered more items to try to comfort me. After my first support group meeting, when I realized I wasn't crazy because the other moms understood how I felt, I stopped at Target and bought a bigger bear. This one was about 18" inches long. I took the bear home, asked Eric to bring me the outfit that was supposed to be Sydney's coming home outfit, and lovingly dressed that bear in Sydney's sleeper with the pink ladybugs and wrapped her in the matching blanket. I then held that bear, with my husband watching without a clue why I was dressing a bear in our daughter's clothes, and I cried. I'm sure Eric thought I had lost it at that point.

A couple of months later, a third bear joined my collection. A friend I met at that first support group showed me the bear she had that matched the bear her son was buried with. I knew that Sydney had been buried with that same bear, so I was on a mission to find one of those bears. I searched online, ebay, all over, and finally, I broke down and called the funeral home. I'm sure they thought I was a nut. I asked them if they could order this bear for me and the funeral director promised to look into it. He called me back only moments later and said, yes, we can order the bear, but you'll have to pay for it. He could've told me it would cost $10,000 for that bear, and I would've said yes. Fortunately, it was a much more affordable $13. A few days later, he called again to tell me my bear was there and as soon as I left work, I rushed to the funeral home to pick up my bear. When I arrived, someone in the office told me that the owner had told them to give me the bear, no payment required. I started bawling like a baby right in the middle of the funeral home office (which I guess isn't really the worst place for that to happen). I took that little bear home and he joined the tiny bear and the clothed bear.

As time went on, I began to wonder when or if I could give up my bears. I had gone on several trips for work in that first year and each time, tiny bear traveled with me. Each morning, I would tuck tiny bear's pink blanket into the safe where we keep Sydney's things because when I took it out each night, it smelled like her. But tiny bear went with me. I would put him in my pocket or in my purse. Needless to say, I was pretty dependent on my bears.

When Sydney's first birthday came, I felt like that was a good time to finally put away my bears. I felt so guilty, like I was trying to forget her or that I was replacing her (as I'd just found out a few weeks before that I was pregnant again). But it was my first step toward taking control over my grief. For that first year, the grief controlled me. I realized that I couldn't begin to heal unless I tried to control the grief. I know that Sydney knows she's never far from my thoughts. There have been so many things that have shown me that she's still with us, but I'll save that for another post.

Sydney Alexis

(I'm so behind here, thanks to a complete cable/internet outage at home. I'm planning to catch up in the next couple of days.)

Post 3 of 31 for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month

How very softly

you tiptoed into my world.

Almost silently;

Only a moment you stayed.

But what an imprint

Your footprints have left

On our hearts.

--Author Unknown

We didn't plan on having another baby. My pregnancy with Hailey was awful, with so many complications--high blood pressure, pre-eclampsia, HELLP Syndrome, Gestational Diabetes, pre-term labor, and enough fear and worry to age me several years in the seven or so months I was pregnant with her. Hailey was delivered at 33 weeks on the dot, and about 8 hours after she was born and whisked away to the NICU, my perinatologist came into my room and told me I should consider permanent birth control because another pregnancy would likely have a tragic outcome. Of course, she was thinking of the pre-eclampsia and HELLP Syndrome, and neither of those things contributed to losing Sydney.

But she was coming and after some adjustment time, we were happy. My pregnancy was smooth, at least up until the day I ended up in the hospital. I never imagined that I'd ever hear those words--we have to induce, the baby isn't viable, there's nothing we can do for her, you'll die if you don't deliver soon. It was my worst nightmare. I didn't know how I'd survive losing one of my children. I didn't know how I'd ever forgive myself for signing the papers to allow the induction, essentially signing her life away before it even began.

My pregnancy with Sydney was different than the others. At about 12 weeks, if I laid in bed very still at night or in the morning, I could feel her fluttering around. Eric felt her kicking at about 19 weeks, long before he felt any of the other kids too. When I was in labor with her, she positioned herself very high up in my uterus, as if to say, I don't want to go and you can't make me.

February 10, 2009, at 4:30 am, that beautiful little girl came into this world far too soon. I was so scared to see her, to have this monumental responsibility of saying hello and goodbye and ensuring that whatever time she had on Earth was full of love. When I pushed and she was born, I was looking at Eric. His face was a mixture of disbelief, fear, but most of all, love. I asked him, Is she alive? and he nodded. I want to hold her, I want my baby, please, let me see my baby, I pleaded. The doctor cut her cord and she was placed on my chest.

I've never seen such a tiny baby. She was so completely perfect. She gasped for breath and Eric said she squeaked a couple of times, but I don't remember. I was crying so hard and telling her how much I loved her and that I was sorry. So very sorry that I hadn't been able to do better for her. Eric quickly held her for a moment, and then my mother in law held her for a moment. As she was passed back to me, I opened my gown and held her skin to skin on my chest. She settled in peacefully, as if she knew her place was right there in my arms. At one point, while I was caressing her and examining every inch of her, I rubbed her upper arm, near her shoulder. She snapped her little arm away from me, as if to say, stop it already, mommy. She would've been a stinker just like her sisters. She also grasped our fingers in her hands, moved her legs around quite a bit, and moved her arms around some more. It was amazing to see how developed and coordinated she was for being so early.

They told us Sydney likely wouldn't survive the delivery. If she did, we'd have only a few minutes with her. She lived for just over two hours. I thank God everyday that He gave us that gift. I am so grateful I was able to have those memories of her. I have no regrets for those two hours of her life. I tried my best to give her a lifetime of love in those two hours. And I did. I am confident in that. She knew my touch and my arms, she heard my heartbeat under her head just as she'd heard it inside of me for the previous 20 weeks. It comforts me to know that she went from my arms directly to Heaven.

On Sydney's first birthday, I resolved to make that day about her life. It wasn't about her death. Her birthday has been a hard day both years, but we celebrate the fact that, on that day, she lived. We want her to live on. Through us, she does and she will as long as we do.

Never forget

Tucked away in a box of old papers and pictures is an ultrasound picture from May 2000. It isn't a baby. At least it wasn't yet. It is an ultrasound picture of two follicles I grew that month, one of which fertilized and became our first baby. I found out I was pregnant on May 27, 2000, our second wedding anniversary. It wasn't meant to be, however, and just over a week later, I miscarried. I still think of that baby so often.

Once upon a time, I was infertile and thought I would never have a baby. It's hard to remember that some times, four babies--two planned and two unplanned--later. Getting pregnant was the hard part the first time. Staying pregnant--and healthy--became the challenges in subsequent pregnancies.

When I was 20 and Eric and I had only been married for a year, we decided we wanted to have a baby. Easy enough, right? Wrong! My periods were pretty well nonexistent at that point. My gynecologist at the time told me that I should go on the pill. Uh, I want to get pregnant, not prevent it. As is my nature, I began researching and began to suspect I had Polycystic Ovarian Syndrome. The more I read about it, the more I did NOT want to have it. My boss had just gotten pregnant and told me that I should see her OB/GYN because he was also a fertility specialist. I didn't realize then the impact my first appointment with him would be.

Within five minutes of meeting me, Dr. Simckes told me that I had PCOS. He hadn't done any tests or exams. He just listened. I told him about my history of long cycles which turned into no cycles, weight gain, and other symptoms. He told me what he would see on an ultrasound--ovaries covered in a "ring of pearls" or cysts. Sure enough, a little while later when he did an ultrasound, there was the ring of pearls. I cried. I was devastated. I always wanted to be a mom and suddenly, it seemed like it might never happen. Bloodwork confirmed what Dr. Simckes already knew and we decided to take a few months to think about a course of action.

A few months later, November 1999, Eric and I were in Dr. Simckes' office and I asked him for Clomid. He told me, you need Metformin. I said, no I just want to get pregnant, give me Clomid. Got the Clomid and nothing. I didn't even ovulate. Another month of Clomid left me with a large cyst on one of my ovaries and we had to wait for it to go away. I finally agreed to start Metformin while we waited. In March 2000, the cyst was gone and I started another month of Clomid. Imagine my surprise that month when I noticed my temperature chart actually show a spike instead of a flat line. I finally ovulated. Or, at least, we suspected I had because as Dr. Simckes would say, the only way to confirm ovulation is to get pregnant. I wasn't pregnant that month, or the next. But in May, as I said above, I finally saw that second magical line on the EPT.

Six months later, I was pregnant again. I hadn't even used Clomid. I ovulated on Metformin alone. Thirty six long weeks later (full of anxiety for both Dr. Simckes and me--I'm pretty sure I drove him nuts), my beautiful boy was born. I will never forget the moment Dr. Simckes held up my first born for me to see.

Here we are now, almost ten years later. That beautiful first born son of mine turns TEN on July 19. Three little sisters, a devastating loss, and hope--ten years of parenting wrapped up in four little faces, three I see every day and one I only see in my dreams, and two tiny angels that were barely a whisper before they were gone. I will never forget the journey that brought me to where I am now. How could I? For better or for worse, this is the life I was meant to live.

One year ago...

I was 15 weeks pregnant. At 13 weeks, a cervical ultrasound showed that my cervix was a little shorter than my OB, Dr. S, liked and with my history, he finally agreed to my desire for a cerclage. I'd hoped to have it placed by 14 weeks, but by the time I got on the schedule, I was 15 weeks and 2 days pregnant.

I had the surgery at the same hospital where I delivered Sydney. I hate that place. It ended up being the hospital where I delivered Kelsey and she spent 9 weeks in the NICU. I'd been feeling okay up to that point, none of the pressure or weird pain that I'd had with Sydney closer to when she was born. I was nervous though. The cerclage isn't without risk to the baby.

The surgery took maybe 20 minutes. I was given the lightest general anesthesia possible so I wasn't awake during the procedure. I was so grateful for that. I remember coming out of anesthesia as soon as they wheeled me out of the operating room. It wasn't like the other surgeries I had where it felt like I woke up as soon as I went to sleep. I could tell some time had passed so I don't know if I started to wake up or if it was just because the anesthesia was so light. When I woke up, Dr. S was gone and nobody told me anything about how it went.

After some delay and confusion, I was finally moved from recovery to my room. Dr. S had decided to keep me overnight and I was put in a room on the antenatal floor. The next day, I would have an ultrasound to check the cerclage placement and my cervical length. When I got to my room, Eric was there waiting for me.

When I was settled in, he told me what happened during the procedure. Immediately after, Dr. S came out to talk to him. Eric said the doctor looked really shaken and when they talked, Eric realized Dr. S was shaken. Dr. S told him that my cervix was very soft and had shortened significantly. He got the stitch placed as high as he could. He was very glad that he did the procedure because if he hadn't, we most likely would've lost the baby. Now we had to hope that my cervix would react favorable to the stitch and hopefully length and become stronger with the reinforcement.

Obviously, we know how the story ended. Our baby girl is here safe and sound. My cervix lengthened quickly. The day after surgery, it was about 3.0 cm. Two weeks later, it was about 4.0 cm and it continued to grow longer. The last check at 28 weeks showed that it was 4.5 cm. Typically, the cervix is around 4.0 cm during pregnancy.

I look back to that day and I thank God I listened to my gut. Once I did the research and realized Sydney's delivery was an exact description of incompetent cervix, I was determined to have a cerclage with my next pregnancy. The doctors weren't so sure I truly had an incompetent cervix because I'd delivered two babies in the third trimester and there was an infection found in the placenta. I know my body well and I was determined to have this done. I was prepared to find another doctor to do the surgery if necessary.

One little stitch, a lot of prayer, and God's grace saved my Kelsey's life. I cannot imagine my life without her and I wish that we'd known all of this so we could've saved her sister too.

Us

The easiest way to start out is with an introduction to us, I suppose. We are the Grangers, a mom and dad in our 30s who have been married forever and have a few kids. That's the quick version. But anybody who knows me, knows I'm never satisfied with the quick version. ;)

I'm Jaime, super mom extraordinaire. Or not. I'm a full-time student with a full-time job and I struggle to balance those two things with being a mom and a wife. I usually feel like there are not enough hours in the day to accomplish all that I want/need to. My kids are the most important people in my life and I am a fierce mama bear when it comes to all four of them. I learned a long time ago that I am their best/only advocate and I will fight for what is best for them. Yes, I am *that* mom. I am very passionate in my beliefs and I'm proud to call myself an extremely liberal feminist. I am pro-choice, support the rights of all people to choose their own lifestyles, extremely pro-breastfeeding, and pro-family. I'm also a Christian. I'm sure you'll hear more about all of that at some point. I had Lap Band surgery in February 2008, lost quite a bit of weight right off, but I've struggled since then. I'm currently trying to get myself back on track and lose the weight I've regained and the rest I need to lose.

Eric is my husband of 12 years. We got married when he was 20 and I was 19. Eric is a very hands-on dad and does everything I do. We're a parenting team, though he's usually the good guy and I have to be the bad guy. Daddy is just too much of a pushover for his cute kids. Eric works in retail and has the kind of schedule that allows him to see the kids off to school in the morning and get home in time to get them off the bus, do homework, cook dinner, and all that.

Christian is our first child and only son. We struggled for almost two years to conceive him and the day he was born changed my life forever. Christian is now 9. He has Asperger's Syndrome, but he is extremely high functioning and simply brilliant. His greatest aspiration is to be a paleontologist. Christian taught me how to fight for what my children need during the three years that it took for us to get a diagnosis for him. Intervention and therapy proved to be incredibly important to Christian, who went from barely saying a handful of words to talking incessantly in a matter of months when he was 3. We celebrate Christian's differences and to us, he is a quirky boy who just sees the world a little differently than most. The view from Christian's head is very colorful and refreshing.

Hailey is our first daughter and just 18 months younger than Christian. After struggling with infertility, Hailey was a surprise for us. My pregnancy with her was extremely difficult, ending with an emergency induction at 33 weeks due to severe pre-eclampsia and HELLP Syndrome. Hailey has been a fighter for her entire life, spending only 12 days in the NICU after her birth. The only lasting issue related to her prematurity has been a speech delay and mild asthma. After Hailey's pregnancy, we were advised to not have any more children, but someone else had other plans.

We found out we were very unexpectedly expecting Sydney in October 2008, the same month we finally scheduled a vasectomy for Eric. Since I was already pregnant, we decided to hold off on having that done when Eric had scheduling issues at work. I had a wonderful pregnancy right up until I ended up in the hospital with a slight bit of bleeding and found out that I was in preterm labor at only 20 weeks pregnant. Sadly, Sydney was born at 20 1/2 weeks, on February 10, 2009, and lived for two hours. Being Sydney's Mommy has changed me forever. I've struggled in every way imaginable with losing her. When I held her for the first time, I held a true piece of heaven and I knew then that she was too perfect and innocent for this world. Losing Sydney shook me to my core and caused me to question every belief I've ever held. I still struggle with guilt, anger, and unending sadness, but in the last 20 months, I've also learned how to celebrate her life and how to carry her memory with me. Sydney is as much a part of our family and a part of me as my living children.

After losing Sydney, I knew that I wanted to have another baby. I needed to fill my womb and my arms again. Nobody could ever replace Sydney, but after experiencing my pregnancy and loving her so much, I knew that I wanted to have another living child to love and raise. On August 1, 2010, at only 31 weeks gestation, our rainbow arrived. Kelsey Grace was born 9 weeks early due to severe pre-eclampsia. She spent a long 64 days in NICU and finally came home the day after her due date. Kelsey is a balm for my soul, a beautiful, perfect baby girl that I feel was handpicked by her sister to help ease our pain. I've come to realize that Sydney's and Kelsey's lives are completely intertwined. Many would say that Kelsey wouldn't be here if Sydney hadn't died, but I say Kelsey wouldn't be here if Sydney hadn't lived.

Finally, we can't forget the furry four legged member of the family, Tigger. Tigger is our 13 year old gray tabby cat. He's getting grumpy in his old age, but we all love him to pieces.