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!

Right Where I Am: 2 years, 3 months, 27 days

It has been 2 years, 3 months, and 27 days since February 10, 2009. Such a short time, yet such a very, very long time.

When I think about where I am in my grief, this quote stands out to me:
"Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle
Everything I do is stitched with its color."
~W.S. Merwin

Today, I am still missing Sydney. I will always miss her. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think of her every moment. She is a part of my life every moment of everyday. She has taught me to be a better mother and wife, to be more compassionate, and to appreciate the little things more.

There are so many times when it still hits me like a ton of bricks. She's gone. Dead. Forever. I won't see her sweet little face, kiss her cheeks, or smell her skin this side of Heaven. I never got to see her open her eyes. The weight of my grief can still bring me to my knees. The physical pain of Sydney's absence isn't as strong anymore, since her sister is here and fills my arms. There are still moments that I crave her and would give anything just to see her.

She would be 2 years, 3 months, and 27 days old. I'm a mother to older children, so I know what she would be doing right now. Toddling around and getting into everything. I wish I knew what she looked like right now. A few days ago, I was going through her pictures and noticed that Kelsey resembles Sydney a lot. I wish I knew what color her eyes would've been and if her hair would've been straight or curly. I saw a picture in a book that made me think of her. I think it is similar to what she would've looked like as a young child.

My sweet Kelsey has eased my grief in many ways. She's an amazing baby. She can never replace Sydney--nor would I want her to--but her birth gave me hope and a certain healing that I couldn't have achieved otherwise. I've said it before, I truly believe that my girls' lives are completely intertwined. I know that Sydney comes to play with Kelsey. When Kelsey was in the NICU, I felt Sydney's presence so strongly when I was at the hospital.

Two years, three months, and 27 days ago, I didn't think I could live through the pain of losing Sydney. It was debilitating. Every moment of the day, my heart cried out for her. I don't think it gets better. I think you just learn to cope with it. You learn how to live with a broken heart. And for me, I've made it a large part of my life to honor her life. I want people to remember that she LIVED. She made an impact on this world. Her life was so much greater than the 2 hours her heart beat on Earth. I can look back now and see the blessings that we were given with Sydney. I am so lucky that I had 2 amazing precious hours with Sydney. She knew only love for her entire life. At 20 weeks, they told us she most likely wouldn't live through labor and delivery. And if she did, we'd only have a few minutes before she passed away. We got TWO HOURS. I wish it had been so many more, but if she had to die, I have no regrets about how she did. She knew she was loved. She knew our touch, our voices, and the warmth of my chest. After having a preemie before, I knew the importance of skin to skin contact and that's where she stayed--on my bare chest, hearing my heartbeat just as she had for the 20 weeks she was inside of me.

I can talk about Sydney now without crying. Not all the time, but most of the time. I want to help others. I want her life to continue to have meaning and impact others. I want her to continue to live on--through her brother and sisters, through her daddy, and through me.

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.

Going back

Before I got pregnant with Kelsey, I was regularly attending support groups at the hospital where I delivered Sydney and the National Share Office. When I got pregnant, I chose to stop attending because I didn't want to upset anybody. Since Kelsey's birth, it has been a busy time and I haven't been back. But I've decided, this month, I'm going to attend one of the groups.

I know I don't have to tell my fellow BLMs that rainbows don't fix things. I never thought Kelsey would fix things or lessen my grief. Sometimes I think having Kelsey makes me miss Sydney even more. I should have two little girls 18 months apart. Christian and Hailey are 18 months apart, but with a boy and a girl, it's different. When I shop for Kelsey, I imagine dressing my little girls identically. I think of all the things I didn't get to do with Sydney.

Don't get me wrong--I adore Kelsey. She has soothed my soul in a way that nobody else could. I truly believe that my girls have a deep connection and so many things I see in Kelsey and feel around Kelsey only confirm that for me. Their lives are connected and I think Sydney paved the way for Kelsey to be here.

But I miss her. With every fiber of my being, I miss Sydney. I want to know what two year old Sydney would look like, what she would like, who she would become. That is the cloud that continues to hang over me. I ache for the child that isn't here. She's as much a piece of me as the three that are here. I'm not one of those people who can say things like, I'm so happy my child is in Heaven. Maybe my faith isn't strong enough. Maybe I'm just selfish. But if I could choose between Sydney being in Heaven or with me, I would choose for her to be with me, no doubt.

I live in fear everyday. Every fucking day. I'm terrified of something happening to Kelsey. We just got her a crib and I'm scared to put her in it. I worry about my big kids all the time. If I call or text Eric during the day and he doesn't answer, my mind jumps straight to the worst.

So, I'm going back. I need the support. I know they can't fix or even help with everything I'm feeling, but I feel very alone right now. I felt better when I was surrounded by others who understood.

Competition

It has been a while since I've blogged. I have so many thoughts in my head, I really need to get back to it.

As you can tell from this page, I am a mom. I am a mom of living children, 3 beautiful healthy living children. I am also a mom of one perfect beautiful little baby girl who left me far too soon. If you ask me, I will tell you that I have 4 children, 1 boy and 3 girls. If I'm out with three, most people will sort of understand, but occasionally someone will ask where the other child is. She's waiting for us in Heaven. Or, if I'm in a mood, I'll tell them frankly, she's dead.

Unfortunately, as much as it hurts, that's a fact. Sydney is dead. She can't come back to me. Sometimes just thinking those three words is enough to drive me into a rage of anger or a depression so deep I don't know if I can ever find myself again. I'm powerless against this fact of my life. What choice do I have but to accept this? Still, I fight acceptance daily. Twenty-two months later, and I still grieve as deeply as I did immediately after her death. I like to think I know how to manage it better.

My sweet little rainbow girl is here and she has not healed me, as some had hoped would be the case. It's like putting a bandaid on a surgical incision. It simply won't heal that way. If you put a big enough bandaid on there, it might hold it, but it really won't heal. I love and adore this amazing miracle I've been given and I thank God for her daily. But I still miss her big sister more than words can describe. I didn't have her to replace Sydney or to make myself feel better. I had her because I wanted to raise another child. One doesn't replace the next. Nor do my older living children make up for their missing sibling.

It seems that there is this competition in the babylost world. The competition between parents with living children and parents with only dead children. Somehow the grief is worse for the parents without living children. In some ways, I can see that. There were days that the only reason I got out of bed was for my children. My rainbow has given me hope for the future, that our family will have a future that isn't one of complete grief and loss. But, on the other hand, as a mother of living children, I have had to watch--and help--my children grieve. I've had to hold myself together when all I really want to do is fall apart because they need me. Do you know how hard it is to have your children ask you, "Why did Sydney die?" How do you answer those questions when you are asking them yourself? I have had to guide my children (ages 7 and 6 at the time of Sydney's birth/death and 9 and 7 now) through their grief during the darkest moments of my life. I had to watch them cry and mourn knowing I could do nothing to ease their pain--and many days feeling like I was the cause of it.

There is another competition too, between those with one loss and those with multiple losses. A loss is a loss. Period. I miss my one child as much as someone else misses their two or three children. Yet, I can't imagine losing another child and how that would devastate me. I can see both sides of this again.

There are many times when I don't feel comfortable in this babylost world. I have living children, I've only had one loss (I've also had two other very early m/c, but for me I don't consider those the same as losing Sydney), and I have a rainbow. Where do I fit in? I still grieve for my lost baby. I still need support. But sometimes I feel guilty for looking or asking for that support. I know I've been blessed. I know how incredibly lucky I am to have my arms full. But someone is missing and my arms and heart still ache for her. I could have ten more children and still feel that emptiness.

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.