I have no idea how to title this post, so it is going to go naked, just like little Logan. I would love to post the adorable pictures and video I have of Logan lounging in the nude, but that goes beyond what I deem appropriate for the internet. He has been rather feisty this week and all because of a sore throat. Poor guy. I am sure that his screaming from the pain only makes it worse. Anyway, our evenings have been spent with a happy little man crawling around in his birthday suit, happy as can be. He sat on the cold tile floor for what seemed like forever and when I picked him up, his little bottom and legs were chilly as well. I just love finding new ways to make him happy. If being naked makes him happy, then you best be prepared for that if you drop on by.
Anyway, this was not the purpose of the post. There has been something on my mind for over a week now. My dearest, close-as-a-sister of a cousin had a loss a few weeks ago. Her SIL lost a baby at 22 weeks and I think we have both been mourning that loss. I, of course, am doing it differently as I do not know her SIL. But I do know what it feels like to have a 22 week old little boy squirming around in my belly, hiccuping and flipping about. I know what it feels like to finally have a belly, to finally have others notice my protruding abdomen and touch it gently looking at me with approving, smiling eyes. I know all to well that feeling of, "less than halfway there!". The excitement, the joy, the anticipation and that constant, rolling reminder that yes, Sarah, there is a growing baby in your belly and you're going to be a mother happen to be some of my most fond memories of my pregnancy. This was all before Logan dropped and caused tremendous back, hip, and pelvic discomfort, early effacement, and a lack of exercise. So when H told me about her SILs loss, my heart broke for her and H. H is a momma to three beauties and has felt the same things I have. We experienced our last pregnancy together, 10 weeks apart and being that she is a total pregnancy veteran, you can bet your bottom that I was texting her at all hours of the day asking if "this is normal" or not.
We were able to talk about it earlier this week and my heart is still aching. Her SIL chose to have their baby girl buried in a cemetery. They had a funeral. Now, I have not had the god-awful experience of losing a pregnancy but as of right now, I know that this is something I would not have done. Being that the baby miscarried before 24 weeks, the week of viability (and even then, still a long road to survival), I had to disagree with her choice. When I think about why people make certain decisions, especially one like this, I try to put myself in her shoes. Why would she chose to do that? If this had been me, the last thing I would want is for everyone to have to come and put my baby in the ground with me. No mother wants to ever have to do this. Can you say: worst fear ever! I tried to think of reasons why she would want to have a funeral and I cannot understand it, so I will just do my best to be sensitive to the decision. Yet, doing that all this week, has made me still wonder what I would do. What we, B and I, would do if we lost a baby that early. I think we would just want to say goodbye in our own way at the hospital and move on from there. As H and I agreed, neither of us would want a physical place to have to go and visit our loss. Now, don't get me wrong here. This is a very touchy topic and I am sure there are a few of you twisting your eyebrows at me. That's fine. This is just how I feel about it. If I were to ever lose a child past 30 weeks where the survival rate is even greater, it may be a different story. You may be asking yourself why I am so wrapped up in this. I blame it on my incessant anxiety that causes me to think about worse case scenarios. It is a coping mechanism where I convince myself that if I already have a plan, then I won't have to ever use that plan. Silly, I know, but it's what I do. Anyway, this has just been on my mind this week and I needed to write down my feelings.
Anyway, this was not the purpose of the post. There has been something on my mind for over a week now. My dearest, close-as-a-sister of a cousin had a loss a few weeks ago. Her SIL lost a baby at 22 weeks and I think we have both been mourning that loss. I, of course, am doing it differently as I do not know her SIL. But I do know what it feels like to have a 22 week old little boy squirming around in my belly, hiccuping and flipping about. I know what it feels like to finally have a belly, to finally have others notice my protruding abdomen and touch it gently looking at me with approving, smiling eyes. I know all to well that feeling of, "less than halfway there!". The excitement, the joy, the anticipation and that constant, rolling reminder that yes, Sarah, there is a growing baby in your belly and you're going to be a mother happen to be some of my most fond memories of my pregnancy. This was all before Logan dropped and caused tremendous back, hip, and pelvic discomfort, early effacement, and a lack of exercise. So when H told me about her SILs loss, my heart broke for her and H. H is a momma to three beauties and has felt the same things I have. We experienced our last pregnancy together, 10 weeks apart and being that she is a total pregnancy veteran, you can bet your bottom that I was texting her at all hours of the day asking if "this is normal" or not.
We were able to talk about it earlier this week and my heart is still aching. Her SIL chose to have their baby girl buried in a cemetery. They had a funeral. Now, I have not had the god-awful experience of losing a pregnancy but as of right now, I know that this is something I would not have done. Being that the baby miscarried before 24 weeks, the week of viability (and even then, still a long road to survival), I had to disagree with her choice. When I think about why people make certain decisions, especially one like this, I try to put myself in her shoes. Why would she chose to do that? If this had been me, the last thing I would want is for everyone to have to come and put my baby in the ground with me. No mother wants to ever have to do this. Can you say: worst fear ever! I tried to think of reasons why she would want to have a funeral and I cannot understand it, so I will just do my best to be sensitive to the decision. Yet, doing that all this week, has made me still wonder what I would do. What we, B and I, would do if we lost a baby that early. I think we would just want to say goodbye in our own way at the hospital and move on from there. As H and I agreed, neither of us would want a physical place to have to go and visit our loss. Now, don't get me wrong here. This is a very touchy topic and I am sure there are a few of you twisting your eyebrows at me. That's fine. This is just how I feel about it. If I were to ever lose a child past 30 weeks where the survival rate is even greater, it may be a different story. You may be asking yourself why I am so wrapped up in this. I blame it on my incessant anxiety that causes me to think about worse case scenarios. It is a coping mechanism where I convince myself that if I already have a plan, then I won't have to ever use that plan. Silly, I know, but it's what I do. Anyway, this has just been on my mind this week and I needed to write down my feelings.
>It's hard to say what I would do in that situation... I guess, I'll have to wait for that situation to come to me. Let's just pray that you and I both never experience it!
ReplyDelete>This is a very thoughtful post. Aren't you so glad you have a place to work out your issues through writing? I am! I love you, dear.
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