Liam's first birthday

I know that everyday since loosing Liam is hard, whether it be in a big or small way on any particular day. I think about Liam everyday, and sometimes I can think about him fondly with a smile as I look at his picture, see another small boy running around, hit new milestones with this current pregnancy, or whatever the case may be. Other times, those things invoke the emotions of sadness and despair when I think about Liam. I am always aware of the milestones we would have reached in this, the first year of Liam's life. Each month that passes or each time I see someone else's kiddo has started eating baby food, said their first word, or took their first step. I am constantly thinking about "what would Liam be doing today." "He would probably be standing up or walking by now" I think about the foods I would be making for him and everything. 

I think about those things on a daily basis and so some milestones come and go and aren't any easier or harder than the other 364 days a year I think about my son. I would say the two hardest days so far (aside from the first month after loosing him) have been Mother's Day, and today. Liam's first birthday. A lot of people have been asking me in the week leading up to today how I felt about his first birthday. I didn't really know what to say as this is another first for us in the grieving process. I anticipated today being like Mother's Day where I knew I wouldn't want to go anywhere or do anything. Just give myself the day to sit at home and feel whatever it is that I feel. That like other days it would be sad but I would look back at Liam's memory fondly and take time to look at his pictures, scrapbook, and all the cards that we received etc. 

However, I underestimated just how hard this day would be. Last night I was laying in bed as Brad was getting ready for bed and I just couldn't hold back the tears. I went into Liam's room and Brad came in and asked if I was looking at his pictures and the floodgates opened. I couldn't stop crying. I have been in his room and looked at his pictures 500 times, yet this time, it hit me like a ton of bricks. Not only was this milestone invoking that sadness of missing Liam and the fact that I should have a cake ready for him to dive into and have his one year pictures printed and framed. But this one year anniversary of his birth and death brought flooding back the memories and emotions of that whole day and the days right after. 

Not just missing Liam but remembering going to to the hospital with excited nerves and awe filled anticipation of having our first baby. The hope we still had before it was quickly snatched away. I was reliving it all again, in my memory of course, but the pain and emotions I still feel are real from that day and they still physically hurt like they did that day. 

Reliving the reality of how close we came to everything being alright. How close we came to bringing a baby home. How close we came to Liam. I got to touch him this day one year ago, look at him, hold him, caress his feet etc. Looking at his pictures last night felt like he was on one side of a glass wall holding his hand up to it and I was on the other side, pressing my hand up against his. I felt that closeness again, and at the same time the heartbreak of being so far away. That is what Sept. 9th one year ago felt like. I couldn't believe I was actually holding him and seeing what he looked like, yet I couldn't believe he was dead. 

All those "what if's" came flooding back. "What if the doctors had done one more ultra sound, what if we had gotten to the hospital a little sooner, what if I could have sensed that something was wrong, what if I had spoken up at our last doctors app...." Those haunting thoughts that I have been able to keep at bay bombarded me as I sat in his nursery with Brad. 

Yes, today is proving harder than I thought. I am not going to try or force myself to smile as I look at Liam's pictures today. Today my emotions come and go as they come and go. Today I allow myself to cry as much as I need/want to. To think about this day for what it really is, not just all that it could or should have been. It's gut wrenchingly sad, heartbreaking, miserable, painful, life altering, frustrating....

Today I feel like the women from the movies dressed in all black from head to toe with a black vale over her face. Today the road seems dark and gloomy and I find myself walking alone. Instead of just powering through, or pushing to the next slightly higher road or spot where the clouds part (if only for a moment) I am going to stay where I am today. Walk this part of the journey as slow as I need too. None of this journey is fun or easy, and this is a particularly hard portion. But, it's still part of the journey, and one that I hope is and will lead me somewhere someday. I am not sure where, but time keeps pushing me down the road. 

But for today, for Liam's first birthday the clouds around me are thick and heavy and that's just how it is. Missing, loving, and wishing my son was here is all I can think about.

"If love could have saved you, you would have lived forever"

July 7th - 10 weeks

I am now 10 weeks along and started getting giddy excited about the thought and dream of having another baby. There are moments that terrify me, but then, I have moments like I did today where I dream of that precious time of taking the baby home from the hospital and being so excited to get home so I can take him or her our of the car seat and hold them as long as I want to. 
I started to think a couple weeks ago about photo ideas for V-day etc, then in a instant, I stop myself. Am I getting ahead of myself, counting my eggs before they are hatched? I told myself I wasn't going to let myself day dream of those things and hopefully the pain wouldn't be so great if we lost another baby. But, it's impossible to not get attached right away and start having all those day dreams, those hopes coming alive in your head. I also think that loosing another baby would be extremely difficult no matter what I do or think about. 
Brad is getting very excited about baby as well. We are both cautiously optimistic. Things really started sinking in for Brad after that first ultra sound when we heard a heart beat, knew it was a viable pregnancy, and got to see baby for the first time. I think that is the first sigh of relief and moment when you can start letting your mind look to the future. 
Things start changing for me much quicker than they do for Brad but he loves rubbing my belly and is just as excited for this new baby as he was for Liam and I am sure he will be for our future babies to come.
 
We were at the beach with friends today talking about Baby Felty #2 and my friend said something about exciting it will be to bring baby to the beach. I told them about a big tent/umbrella that Brad wants to get, which would be perfect for baby to play in the shade. I even made the comment "our baby will be a beach bum." Then I thought to myself, "That is exactly what we thought about Liam." Being 10 months old now we would have had him out in the water playing around. 
Then, those nerves set in. "What if all the hopes and dreams I have for this baby never come true"? My mom reminded me about something last week. "Do not worry about tomorrow, for today has enough cares of it's own." How true is that. All I can do is take it one day at a time. Asking God for peace, patience, grace, health, and a living baby.

First Ultra sound

Our first ultra sound was on June 18th. We had been looking forward to this first US and getting to see baby and hear a heartbeat for the first time. I laid down and the tech rubbed the jelly on my belly and got started. Several minutes went by I could tell she was getting nervous. She kept scanning over baby but wasn't showing us a heart beat. She asked me a lot of questions about my fibroid tumor etc. and I could tell she was buying time. She finally said "It's probably too early for a regular US so we will have to change for a vaginal one. While waiting for the tech to come back I told Brad "This doesn't look good, I am nervous." He said the same thing and I started praying "God I give this to you and place it in your hands" They brought a doctor in with them (which is never a good sign) who started talking to us while the tech started the vaginal US. "There are 3 things we look for at your first US. 1- Are you pregnant? The answer is, yes, you are pregnant. 2- Is it an ectopic pregnancy? The answer is no, it isn't. 3- Is there a heart beat........" 
Then there was silence. The tech was still searching with the probe. My heart began to sink into the pit of my stomach and I started crying. I began to re-live a nightmare and had flashbacks to when we were sitting in the hospital finding out that Liam was gone. 
Then with much enthusiasm, the tech said, "There it is!!! There's the heart beat"
Sure enough we saw baby and the heart beating away. I began asking questions "Is it beating fast enough, does everything look right'? They measured baby and printed off pictures for us. 
When the doc and tech left the room Brad and I embraced, cried, and let out a huge sigh of relief. That was too close for comfort and we both started praising God that our baby was alive! 

God has brought us through so much already in this pregnancy. From getting pregnant right away to that first ultra sound, through loosing 9 pounds in 3 weeks from vomiting and not being able to eat, to being in the hospital for 2 days due to dehydration, to ER visit for extreme constipation, to thrush, a rash on my legs that lasted 4 weeks, to a different infection. 
If he can bring and baby safely through all that how much more can he bring us through. He can bring me from the valley to the mountain top. I know he is in the business of blessing his children. I know he has called me to be a mother, and I know that I am a mother to Liam and will be a good mother to baby Felty #2 and all my future children. 
I trust in the one that formed Liam, my perfect baby boy, and the God that is forming this baby even now. 
I can't wait to see his miracles unfold!

June 4th - Holding on too tightly

I haven't even had my first doctors appointment since I found out I was pregnant again. We want to wait until we hear the heartbeat and see the baby before we tell family.
I remember a friend who had a miscarriage and when she called to tell me she was pregnant again, she said she was 16 weeks and could finally let herself get excited. I am not sure how to do that. I don't know how to put my guard up in that sense and not get excited and attached already. I think it's impossible to not get attached. 
I have already started thinking about what the holidays will be like this year cause I wont be able to travel by then. Thinking about how long we wait to start pulling baby stuff out again etc. My mind goes to those things instantly. I dream already of the new born, v-day,  and St. Patties Day pictures I will take of my little one. That St. Patties Day is probably when we will fly back to Iowa for the first time to introduce baby Felty #2 to everyone. But, that is how I felt with Liam. I envisioned everything with him from holidays, to the pictures I would take when he was born, to a million different things I was let done and those dreams were shattered. It's hard not to let myself believe that I am just setting myself up for failure again. 
I can tell that Brad is more reserved this time. Not only it is our second pregnancy so everything isn't quit as new and exciting as the first time, but also a little reserved in the "what if's" Brad is better at being realistic, and I am more of a romantic and a dreamer. 
It's those emotions that I knew were going to be there, where everything is peppered with sadness, excitement, and a little bit of fear. So it's not the same as when I was pregnant with Liam and it was crazy joy all the time. We told family right away because the thought of something happening never even crossed our minds. But, things change, life changes. 
It's like I was to curl up in a ball for 9 months with my arms over my belly protecting my baby. But God says "Don't hold on too tightly." This baby is a gift and really isn't mind to begin with, but God's. Does giving my baby over to God's hands mean it's going to die, NO! It means I have to take a massive leap of faith and trust my baby into God's care. Not that I didn't before, but I still held onto Liam. 
I am afraid sometimes that if God is teaching me this lesson that means he is preparing me for another huge heartache. I have to choose on a daily basis to not believe that in my life, for me or my baby. 

We're Pregnant!!!!

We had used an ovulation test this time cause my periods started being off by about 4 days the last couple months. Sure enough, the test proved I would be ovulating 4-5 days after I thought I would based on my p-tracker app. I had already had a physical scheduled with the doctor for the week after so while I was there I asked her if she could do blood work while I was there. She said yes even though this was about 5 days after we figured the blood test might pick up something an at home pregnancy test couldn't detect this early. I went ahead and took a pee test the next day (Thursday May 23rd) at home cause I couldn't wait. It was negative. I got a call from the doctors office the next day (Friday) saying the blood work was negative as well. I went back to the pee test from the day before to see if I squinted me eyes, maybe a faint second line would appear on the stick. No such luck.
I waited until that Saturday when we were having a BBQ at our house and took another test before I had a couple of adult beverages. It was very quickly negative.
At this point I was sure I was not pregnant and can't lie, I was very disappointed. I was suppose to start my period that Monday, but knew based on the ovulation test that it would be about 4 days late. Friday rolled around and I was feeling moody, crampy, and bloated. Brad and I went for a run and I told him I was going to start my period soon. But when it didn't start by mid day on Saturday, I started to wonder again. The night before (Friday night) I was reading all this stuff about when implantation happens and when your hormone levels spike enough to be detected. So I knew the blood work was probably too early. I didn't want to get my hopes up but started to think that there was a chance that I could still be pregnant and not know it yet. I put my hand on my belly and prayed to God that there would be a baby in there.
The next day on the way to friends BBQ I told Brad I needed to stop at the store quick for beverages and tampons. When I got in there I grabbed a water, sprite, and a pregnancy test. I took it quick in the bathroom and within 30 seconds it clearly showed two lines! I started crying and while in shock and shaking I went to the parking lot to meet Brad. We were already running late and as he started to drive away I asked him to pull over quick. He responded very frustrated with "why, we are already late" I convinced him to pull over and pulled out the pregnancy test while still shaking from shock myself said "We're pregnant!!!!" Brad said "We can be 5 hours late" We hugged and took a moment to take it all in. I really couldn't believe it. I was relieved and happy to be making forward progress towards our dream. All the while thinking about Liam!

May 31st - Hiding

In the first months after Liam's death I feel like everyone was really sensitive to our heartache and loss. Don't get me wrong, people will always say stupid stuff, but in general, people were very sweet. As time goes on however, I find myself more worried about how others feel to a point where I feel I can't talk about or share Liam with people. 
I find myself wondering about being "debbie downer", or dropping this bomb on people when I meet them of "oh yes, I had a son, but he died". I know that makes people feel awkward and uncomfortable and I find myself holding back because of that. Or I am so sensitive to the "what if they are struggling to get pregnant, or just miscarried and no one knows." Then here I am taking about my dead baby. 
I find myself almost hiding behind Liam's death.
It also frustrates the hell out of me when there are people who know about our loss, yet continue to talk about babies and pregnancies every time I see them. I know that it's going to come up naturally in conversation. I am at that age where people I meet, friends etc are having babies so there is always going to be someone pregnant, trying, struggling etc. I can genuinely be happy for them and supportive, to a point. But rubbing it in (as it seems to me) that your trying, going to start trying in six months, think your pregnant but your not even sure yet and feel the need to tell everyone...give me an f-ing break. 
Especially since we started trying again and it hasn't happened yet. (granite it's only been one month) it's disappointing to find out you're not. Sad when all I have wanted since I started trying with Liam was a baby. Sad cause in the back of my mind, with all the complications I still have, I have this deep seeded fear that I for some unknown reason wont be able to get pregnant again. That Liam was my only experience I will ever have with pregnancy. 

When I tell people about Liam:
~I don't want to be "Debbie Downer"
~What if they are trying right now
~What if they can't get pregnant
~I just met these people, is this really something I should bring up now? Something so deep
~I don't want to make everyone feel awkward and uncomfortable

But, he is MY SON. This is MY LIFE right now. I am in the trenches of grief. I should not just be worried about how others will feel. I am tired of people being insensitive, making stupid comments, and going on and on. 

It's hard when my support group are people scattered all over the country. People I can call, email, and fbook with but no one here who really gets it (besides my counselor) I really need someone who understands here that I can physically get together with when I need to vent, cry, and talk about it. Someone who I know will back me up, validate me, and be sensitive to Liam. 

May 25th - Negative

I had a yearly physical on Wednesday and so I had the doc do blood work while I was there. I got a call yesterday that it was negative. Not going to lie, I was really bummed. We used an ovulation test and everything this time and after how quickly we got pregnant with Liam, I really had my heart set on how fast it would happen this time. 
Then last night I was reading a bunch of stuff on how the hormone levels don't really go up until after implantation. Which I thought may have happened on Wednesday cause I had a little bit of spotting (could be just from the pap) So then I thought maybe we did the blood test too early. So I waited until this AM to take another pregnancy test, and it's negative. I kinda got my hopes up again thinking there was still a chance. But not this month. 

I know where to put my trust, and I know everyone tells you it will happen when it's suppose to happen, and God's timing is perfect. I believe that to a point. With Liam, Brad and I decided we were ready and started trying. Not going to lie, we didn't go into deep prayer about when to try and when we could get pregnant. I know that part is out of our hands. 

With this next pregnancy, I keep praying about God's timing. About when we will get pregnant and that God knows the desires of my heart to have a baby. Truthfully, after what happened to Liam, I feel like I need to make sure I am in the will of God. That his covering, blessings, and perfect timing are on this pregnancy so we don't loose another baby. But I know that is not how it works or how God wants me to feel. I believe we should always be walking in the will of God and I have to trust that if we are under his umbrella, his protections and provisions are always surrounding us. People, Christians get pregnant all the time without deep fasting and prayer. I need to shake off the thought that there are hoops we have to jump through this time with God or something bad will happen to our next baby. 

So I trust that if not this month, then God has a plan for when it will happen. But, what if, what if God's plan is that we don't get pregnant for another six months, or a year? What if that is His perfect timing? That is the part that quit frankly sucks about trusting and leaving things out of your control. The best for me may not be close to what I think is best. 
Then with the health issues I had after delivery (that are still lingering around) I really started to panic the other night. I thought "what if something more went wrong with my body that we don't know about yet and we can never get pregnant ever again"? Sigh, it's something I can't let my brain dwell on for very long, but something that pops into my head every now and again and scares me. I pray that isn't the case!!!!

April 2013 - Trying Again

Trying Again-
Brad and I began trying again for another baby. It's interesting how emotions and perspectives change over the course of time. Right after Liam was born all I wanted to do was try asap for another baby. I was so saddened by his loss and not having him in my arms that that it's all I could think about. 
We consulted several doctors to see when it would be physically safe for me to start trying again. I was consumed by it. 
Then we got to a point where the doctors told us it was "ok", and then I wasn't sure if I was ready. I was back to the same questions in my mind as I had had when we stared trying with Liam. "Are we really ready for our lives to change"? Selfishly, "am I ready to be restricted in some ways with pregnancy again this soon"? Then even past all that, there is the huge emotional toll and all the nerves that go along side thinking about having another baby and being worried about "what if the same thing happens to the next one"?
But we got to a point where we were both ready. I even thought to myself, "If we try for a couple months and it doesn't work, we wave off until this fall. If it happens great, if not, then it will later."
We figured it was going to be nerve racking and sad now, a year from now, two years from etc. So why wait?
Now however, I am counting down the days until I can take a test. I even looked back at my "P-tracker" from when I was pregnant with Liam to see how soon symptoms like breast tenderness started. I am so excited, anxious, and nervous. I know that I will be disappointed if I am not pregnant. Ugh, so many emotional factors. 

May 12th 2013 - My first Mother's Day

Today has been sad so far, like I anticipated. Many tears already and I feel at a moments notice they could start again.
I have done well to stay off facebook for the most part today, but can't help but think about all those mothers doing I should be doing today. It breaks my heart to not have Liam here right now. 

When I woke up in Liam's room today (after a migraine and needing quit) I pictured the day starting out like this:
Brad would have gotten Liam up and fed while letting me sleep in for a bit. He would have brought my little into the bedroom and set him on my belly to wake me up. I imagine Liam would have been smiling, laughing, and drooling all over me. Brad would make breakfast and we would eat together. Then Brad would have gotten Liam dressed and the diaper bag ready to give me some extra time before church.
We would have gone to church together, then picked a place outside for family pictures. We would have all color coordinated I am sure, and after Brad got some good pics of Liam and I, I would have gotten some good family ones. I imagine by then I would have gotten pretty good at using a tripod and remote to take pictures we could all be in at the same time.
Then we may have sat outside to eat somewhere or had lunch at home. Liam would have laid down for a nap and we may have dozed too. Then I am sure when Liam woke up we would have skyped with family to hello and send mother's day wishes around the country.
Then perhaps a walk on the beach and play time together before dinner. Brad would have given Liam a bath and gotten him ready for bed and we would have all read stories before tucking him in.
The hand and footprint card that Brad would have made from Liam for me would be hanging on the fridge, soon to be framed. The cards and flowers wishing me a happy mothers day would be sitting on the kitchen table and I would laying in bed reflecting on the perfect first mother's day with my 8 month old baby boy Liam.
AAAHHHH, sigh. What a glorious day that would have been. 

May 11th 2013 - Mother's Day

I have been thinking about Sunday, and in a lot of ways, dreading the day for quit sometime now. Although no one is forcing me to write about the day, I know it's good for me to sit and allow myself to think about it. I have still been, however, avoiding it thus far. 

It took a long time for me to acknowledge that I am truly a mother. This Sunday I will grieve the motherhood that I never got a chance to experience with Liam beyond the pregnancy. 
I know I am a mother, a mother who lost her baby. Everyone tells me what a great mother I was to Liam and how lucky he was to have me. But I don't feel like it. I go back and forth about feeling guilty for what happened to Liam. That there was something I have done to prevent it or change the outcome. Untimely however, I know that what happened to Liam was out of my control. But it's still hard to think that I was the best mother I could have been too and for Liam when it wasn't enough to save him. I wish I could have done more. In some ways I feel like I failed him. No one is putting that on me, but me. It's just that when I feel like I am the one carrying him and untimely responsible for him then it all falls on me.
Bottom line, when I stare at his picture and think about him so helpless, it breaks my heart that I couldn't have helped him. That he didn't do anything to deserve or warrant this. It breaks my heart for him. 

A year ago at this time Brad was on his first civilian deployment, but third overall deployment overseas. I was home in Iowa staying with my parents and Brad sent me a flowers and a mother's day card. I also received one from my parents. It was surreal to read them and think that I was actually going to be a mother. At that time I envisioned my first mother's day as something totally different than how it will really be tomorrow. 
I had thought perhaps Brad would have used Liam's little hands and feet to make me a mother's day card that I would stick on the fridge for awhile and then display in a scarp book. That we would dress up and go to church together as a family, get some pictures, and cook out at home or go out to brunch. then spend the day playing and enjoying one another. 
That I would be wearing the badge of motherhood proudly. The snot on my shoulder, food in my hair, bags under my eyes. Unfortunately, the only badge of motherhood I wear now are a few unwelcome reminders of delivery, empty arms, and a broken heart.

This Sunday I will be celebrating the amazing mothers in my life, but am so saddened that I do not have my son here to celebrate his mother. It's one of those weird "how did come to this" moments. One of those moments when I really stop to think about how deeply I miss Liam and it washes over me so intensely that suddenly I feel like I am drowning in despair.

This Sunday I plan on staying home with Brad, perhaps never getting out of my pj's and just "being". I don't want to go to church and torture myself with the mother's day sermon. It was hard enough seeing all the families in their cute outfits at Easter. I know it's just a day to focus on mothers and in all other ways it's just another day. So part of me wonders if my dreading the day and how I will feel is all brought on myself. But none the less, it's a day I would be participating in, had Liam been here. But, he is not, and it f****** sucks. So I am going to allow myself a day to just sit and be in the suck. To feel it and try to happy myself up. 

Momma loves and misses you dearly Liam!

May 9th - 8 months old

It's been 8 months since Liam died. The reality of him being gone has been my reality now for almost as long as the reality of him being alive and preparing for life with him.

It's weird to think that he has been gone now for almost as long as he was with us (me being pregnant with him). Soon he will have been gone longer than the time that he was here and that breaks my heart.

When I think about Liam now, I picture Brad sitting on the hospital bed next to me and holding Liam. My mom and brother were standing at my bedside and we were all looking at Liam for the first time. Examining every part of his body and commenting on what he looked like. That is what I think of right now when I think of Liam. I don't think about my pregnancy, or what he looked like on the ultrasound, or feeling him move inside me. That to me isn't reality, because he was alive then and he isn't anymore. Reality to me is seeing him in his perfection, yet lifeless.

Talking about Liam in past tense has been my reality for almost as long as talking about him in present and future tense was. In some ways I have gotten use to this new reality and accept it to be the new norm for me. The new norm in the sense that this is what, and how, it is and always will be for me. I have gotten to the point where I don't close my eyes and imagine that I am still pregnant and ready for him to be born any day. Or think I will wake up and it will have all been a bad dream. I am not in denial about it even though there are days I still can't believe it all went the way it did.

I don't have as many "I can't believe he is really gone" moments, mostly because I have lived through 8 months of him being gone. Time has a way of showing us reality, and squashing all our hopes of how things could have, should have, and maybe will turn out different. I know this, because for the past 8 months I have woken up to the same reality, my son is dead.

This has been my reality for the past 8 months, and always will be my reality for days, years, and a lifetime to come. It will change slightly as time goes on, but yet, will stay the same. Even when I become pregnant and have another baby, Liam will still be gone. Nothing is ever going to change the fact that Liam is dead, and I am never going to hold him or see him again here on this earth. I will go through more pregnancies excited yet petrified, happy yet sad. I will (God willing) one day celebrate the birth of another baby and live out all the joys that that precious life will bring. But that doesn't change the fact that every time I think about Liam, and picture him in my mind, the reality will stay the same. I will see Liam's beautiful characteristics of both Brad and I, my precious baby boy. I will see him in all his perfection, yet lifeless.

April 8th 2013 - Anchor

As I am reading this morning from the book "Empty cradle broken heart" and "Holding onto Hope" I am reflecting on my own emotions, grief, Liam, and God.

I read a quote in "holding onto hope" that says, "Hope is symbolized in Christian iconography by an anchor. And what does an anchor do? It keeps the ship on course when the winds and waves rage against it. But the anchor of hope is sunk in heaven, not on earth."

Gregory Floyd-A grief unveiled

This is an affirmation of sorts for me. I am reminded about a verse that someone emailed me or put in a card after Liam died. "For I know the plans I have for you declares the Lord, plans to prosper you and not to harm you, but plans to give you hope and future."

It's a verse I know all to well and have clung to many times in my life.

However, at a time when I am confused, frustrated, and even angry at God, this verse just doesn't sit well with me.

I think to myself, "Liam never had hope of a future. He never had the opportunity to live out those plans that God had for him. Does that mean God never had plans for Liam? Liam never had a future on this earth, he never had a chance. I really struggle with that, especially knowing God's promises are true, and that his word will never return void. So I asked my high school youth pastor about it.

He brought up a very good point and shed some light onto this verse for me. This verse isn't specifically talking about life on earth. It's referring to heaven. The hope and a future God is talking about is eternal life. In that sense Liam does have hope and a future, he is living that out right now with the father in heaven.

It's easy for me (and for a lot of people) to only see the here and now and be fixated on this earthly life. Sometimes it's hard for me to see what eternity looks like with Liam when I am so sad and disheartened about him not sharing this lifetime with me. I could only see that verse for what I thought it had to say about living here on earth, not in heaven.

It makes me realize that so much of my vision, thoughts, and attention are truly on the here and now. But God wants us to be fixated on heaven and eternity. He has put eternity in the hearts of men. We are never fully satisfied here because we are not at home here. This is but a brief moment in the grand scheme of things. My hope isn't just in having another baby (a living baby) and having that dream fulfilled in my life. It's not just about having a family, my hope is about heaven, the long term.

My focus should be on advancing the kingdom of God. Should be in wanting a deeper relationship with God and not just because I want the blessings that God has for me on this earth, but because of what is to come. I need to expand my view and see the big picture, look beyond a few years down the road and see eternity in everything I do. In the people I meet. See eternity in Liam.

I will always grieve a life never lived on this earth, but I can celebrate a life that will be spent together for longer than this one.

I need to place my anchor in heaven and not on things of this world. there is where my heart and life are!

April 3rd 2013 - I AM

I AM....

I am a mother, I am the mother of a still born baby. I am Liam Michael Felty's mother. I am the mother of a perfectly healthy baby boy. I am the mother of a full term baby bot. I am the mother of a baby that died. I am a mother with empty arms. I am a grieving mother. I am a hurting mother.

My faith has gotten me through this tragedy thus far. My husband, friends, and family that have supported, encouraged, prayed for, cried with, and been there for me have helped me to walk through the grief of losing Liam. My faith and strong support system have helped to get me through, but that doesn't mean it doesn't still hurt, that it isn't still hard, or that there aren't days that nearly knock me out. Having a strong faith in God keeps me going, but it doesn't make it easier. It doesn't automatically take the pain away.

Does the fact that I can still have a good day, still laugh with friends and family, still enjoy moments, or continue to make memories, does that make me strong. I don't know. Does that make it seem like I have all it together, maybe. But it doesn't mean I do. Does it mean I am over loosing Liam, hell no! Does it mean that I don't still think about him, or that I am not still saddened by his loss, NO. Does it mean that time really does heal all things and the further we get away from September 9th, 2012 the easier it gets, definitely not!

I will grieve looking Liam until the day that I die. I will think about my son everyday for the rest of my life. Even after I have more children, I will still look at kids, boys, men that are Liam's age and wonder and be saddened by all that could have and should have been. Although the sun does still shine through the clouds in my life, the storms still roll in. Perhaps I am truly learning to dance in the rain, as they say. But you can't always avoid the lightening strike.

The fog of Liam's death always surrounds me and always will. It's like Pastor Rick said "It will always be there, for the rest of your life. But sometimes it will be thicker than others." Sometimes that fog is so thick I can't see my own feet in front of me. Other times I can carry on down the road.

As I lay here now in our pseudo nursery, crib taken down and put in the closet, air mattress back out. Liam's clothes, blankets, and stuffed animals packed away in boxes. Diapers tucked away in the drawer, books closed on the shelf. Stroller and car seat wrapped up and put in the attic. Swing folded away. Bouncy seat, high chair, and baby both never been opened or used. The wooden letters "L I A M" and empty picture frames set aside. All I can do is lay here and cry. There isn't a damn thing I can do to change my circumstances. Liam is gone and he is never coming back, and it breaks my heart and hits me to my very core. It angers me, saddens me, and frustrates me.

I miss Liam so deeply, I ache to hold and kiss him.

I would give anything to have his here with me. Part of my heart will always be missing.

I have been robbed of the joys that being a mother entails.

Yet, I am still a mother. I am the mother of still born, I am Liam Michael Felty's mother.

March 31st 2013 - Easter

Each holiday has taken on a new meaning and perspective since we lost Liam, and Easter is no exception.

Today as my mother and sister go to put flowers on Liam's grave, I am reminded of the hope and assurance we have through Christ of one day seeing Liam again.

Death here on earth is very painful (to say the least) for those left behind. But where oh death is your victory, your sting? It is lost in eternity. Today even more than my own salvation, I am thankful for the cross that affords me hope and assurance of spending eternity with my son.

I mourn and weep over Liam's grave, at a life never lived on this year, hopes and dreams vanished, and a piece of my heart ripped away from me. But my friend there is a grave, that today lay empty. And just as sure as He will turn our mourning into dancing, today we rejoice and celebrate a risen savior. One who has concurred over death for you, for me, for Liam, and all our loved ones gone.

He has set eternity in the hears of his people. Today and always, a piece of my heart awaits me in heaven. I know the deep pain and despair of loosing a child. How much more the father in heaven knows the pain of giving up his one and only son to die so that we might live again.

I didn't have a choice in loosing Liam. It's a heartache I wouldn't wish on my worse enemy, but it's something Christ chose and endured for us. It's beyond my comprehension and something I am eternally grateful for.

Today, celebrate life. Life lost to be found again, celebrate life resurrected, eternal life. All because Jesus came, died, and rose again.

March 12th 2013 - A year of firsts

This is and is going to continue to be a year of firsts. All the firsts that should have been this year with Liam, and all the first that are, without him.

This year isn't unlike any other in the sense that I have spent Christmas, New Years, Valentines Day, and coming up on St. Patrick's Day without children. It's not like we had a child for those holidays last year and now we don't. In that sense they are no different. But, it's what was suppose to be that changes everything. Not only because we got pregnant and knew a baby was on the way, but because we actually held a full term baby in our arms. I gave birth to a baby at 37 weeks and 1 day. Lot's of babies survive at shorter gestational ages than that.

I saw Liam in his perfection, all his features, his complete and whole body. So those "firsts" that should have been seems all the more real because I was so close to it. I was so close to that dream becoming a reality, so close to getting to see Liam's personality come alive and watch him grow and change. Yet, instead of a year of first hugs, smiles, kisses, waves, rolling over, trying food, going to the beach, crawling, cooing, bathing, going to Iowa, walking, new years, v-day, laughing, talking...instead of experiencing all that with Liam for the first time, it's, the first car ride with an empty car seat, the first baby dedication at church that our family should have been a part of, the first thanksgiving he was suppose to be at, the first Christmas of his life, the first trip to Iowa we took that he was suppose to be with us, him wearing his hawkeye gear and watching the football games. The milestones, like what should have been him turning 6 months old, him being in his first ever Glynn family St. Patties Day parade. The list goes on and on. I will experience the year of firsts both living in the present and everyday thinking about the firsts that should be happening and everyday thinking about the first s that should be happening.

This time of year the milestones are getting harder to pass. The time in Jan when I had gotten pregnant and were telling immediate family came and went and I thought about it but it wasn't an overwhelmingly sad day. This time last year however, I was home in Iowa. I was 12 weeks along so Brad and I felt comfortable sharing our exciting news with extended family. I told lots' of family at the hooley and several cousins and I were talking at the parade about how next year (meaning now) I would have a kiddo in the parade. It was something that was so hard to fathom, yet at the same time I could picture every detail about it and it was beyond exciting.

So this coming weekend when we are out here on the east coast and Liam isn't here to celebrate us, it's seems really hard.

Liam would have turned 6 months old last Thursday. That is a big milestone I feel like. Hard to believe in some ways he would have been that old already. Yet on the other hand it feels like so long ago sine I held him and rubbed his feel, and traced his face with my finger that it almost seems like a dream.

Aaron was in CR on Friday and stopped by Liam's grave. He text us to let us know he was there. It was so sweet of him to stop and meant a lot to us.

Brad and I were talking about it at dinner that night and we both started crying. I told Brad that seeing Aaron type that he was at Liam's grave just hit me like a ton a bricks. I mean I know Liam is gone, I was at his burial, I helped design his marker. I have been there to see it, yet, for some reason seeing the words "Liam's grave" just seemed so final, sad, and gut retching. And yet at this same time of year when Easter is around the corner. I am reminded again of God's overcoming death. After loosing Liam I am even more thankful for God overcoming death.  Liam's death makes what Jesus did seem more real to me. I have always known I would die someday (it's not something I think about often) and that I would go to heaven. I always knew that Jesus made that possible for me, but since I think of Liam so often and know he is in heaven, I think about heaven more often and I am more excited tat I get to go there and see him. I am aware more often and Jesus death, his resurrection, heaven, and being there one day. Easter this year like Christmas has taken on a whole new meaning for me.

Part of my heart, part of me is up there. I understand how Jesus all the more yearns to be with us for eternity cause part of his heart is down here on earth. And as painful as it was for me to hold and see my son dead in my arms and have to send him away and bury him. How much more painful was it for the father in heaven to send his one and only son to die on the cross. It's like Cory said "few people in the world will ever know love and loss like this." We have caught but a glimpse as to what the father in heaven when through. All the more that God knows exactly what I am going through and how I feel because he himself lost his son. But his son was raised from the dead, just as I will one day be reunited with Liam And oh, what a glorious day that will be. I am reminded of an old song....

"When we all get to heaven, what a day of rejoicing that will be. When we all, we all see Jesus, we'll sing and should the victory."

February 2013

                     "We can't let the devil validate our fear, give them any credit, or let us think they are warranted."

Thinking that maybe I just wasn't ready to be a mother.  I didn't have that motherly instinct to know that something was wrong or that motherly intuition about Liam.

I am mad the doctors didn't see the red flag, but then again, neither did I.

Everyone telling me my whole experience at the hospital isn't normal and is awful care. Great, why did it happen to me. I feel like I picked the wrong doctors and got the ghetto care, ugh!

I feel like I am nervous about something going wrong with the next pregnancy and yet I am scared everything will go right. What if....what if I actually take home a baby next time. It's scary to think of the responsibility I will have of carrying a baby for 9 months, but also scary to think of taking care of an infant and knowing how to raise and protect them. What if our pediatrician sucks? 

I look at so many friends that are mothers. That were born mothers and have multiple kids with no problems. They know what to do and everything seems to come naturally to them. Not me.

I also feel like after Liam was born you feel very vulnerable and like everyone is in the know about your deepest feelings cause your living out your deepest fears. I felt transparent and not afraid to share. I craved deeper relationships and meaning to life.

Now I feel like that is wearing off. People say, and don't say the stupidest things and I am back to my shy, don't say anything to make waves self. I just not my head and smile, while I am bubbling up on the inside.

It's hard when people don't talk about or bring Liam up. Just an acknowledgment would be good.

February 2013 - My worst fear

My worse fear in life is something happening to my loved ones. After Liam's death that naive haven was broken and I fear someone else close to me dying.
It's like knowing that someone could break into your home, but never really thinking about it or thinking it could happen to you, until it does. After our home was broken into my freshman year of college, that safe haven for me was gone. That ignorance really is bliss was out the window. Now I hate being home alone at night.

Seeing other people and their "miracle" babies is hard for me. For the first time in my life I feel like I am being punished for something. Why did the blessings of God stop in my life? I have always felt blessed. I have always been provided for, have an amazing husband, friends, and family that you don't see everyday. I have often looked at other couples and families and thought, "we have something special, how did I get so lucky"?
Blessed to get pregnant after only two months and blessed with a good pregnancy. Then all of the sudden....BAM!!!! What was it? What did I do? I feel like it's something I did and if I don't figure it out and change it then something bad will keep happening to us.

How can I trust again? How can I trust God again with another baby when I prayed and trusted him for Liam and he took him away. What if I pray for the next baby and the same thing happens?
I am pissed that the joy is taken out of everything. That everything now is bitter sweet and peppered with sadness. 
I am sad for Liam's grandparents, aunts and uncles who were so excited for him. Seeing their pain hurts as well. It just sucks all around.

I am trying to learn to pray "God what do you want to show me and teach me through this"? Instead of praying the same prayer about God comforting me. The damage is already done, I may as well learn something from it and have some good come from it.

Suddenly I see all the greys and blues in the world and the sadness. Instead of seeing the yellows and pinks and the happiness.

February 2013

In the mist of my pain, anger, and frustration about Liam's death, everyone keeps telling me "you can be honest with God, he is big enough to handle your honesty and emotions." I totally agree, and feel comfortable voicing my opinion to God. That is not what I am struggling with, I am struggling with the all important question of "why" and "who" is ultimately responsible for my son's death. As humans I think it's natural to need to find someone to blame. We can't believe that everything "just happens". Something is making world go round, whether you believe in fate, karma, chance, coincidence, choice etc. 
I am reading the sequel to 'Heaven is for real', a book called 'Heaven changes everything'. In it, Todd Burpo (the author and pastor) explains a time when his son was on his death bed. Todd cried out in anger and desperation to God to save his son's life. 
Here are his thoughts:


So are we to assume that satan is behind everything 'bad' that happens in life? I know God will not give us more than we can handle. I know satan is always at work, just as God is. But ultimately God has the power to stop it, right? God had the power to save Liam. So why didn't he? Just like any business or organization, there is always a person who is the bottom line, the top of the heap, the ultimate say so. In life, and death, I believe that person is God. Is it wrong of me, or against everything I was taught as a child to look to God as the reason my son died and not satan? I don't think satan has that kind of power or authority to give and take life. So once again, how do you not play the blame game with God? I struggle with that, and how I am questioning the very foundational things that I have known to be absolutes in my life since I was a child.
I know God is always battling satan, but God always wins. People say "what the devil planned for evil, God can use for good", so did God allow satan to do this? The devil obviously planned this evil and God can turn it around for good, but come on. 
Everyone says that I will come out of this a stronger women, nothing I face in life will compare. I will learn so much from it. Well let me tell you, nothing that I could learn from this, or how this molds or shapes my life will ever warrant Liam dying for. Nothing in this life will ever justify his death. If God needed to teach or show me something why the hell didn't he just do it? He is God after all.

Mid February 2013

Grief

My grieving Liam is so different than any other person that I have lost in my lifetime. It's so different that I am not sure, nor are a lot of my friends and family sure, how exactly you deal, cope, and process this type of loss.

When I said good-bye to grandparents, classmates, my great great aunt, and friends family members etc. You are celebrating a life lived. You may grieve a life cut short or a person gone to soon, but you have memories that you will carry with you forever.

I remember after my great grandma Elsie's funeral, we sat around with my dad's family and everyone went around the room and shared a story about grandma. We laughed and cried and those are the things that help you grieve. You can look back fondly on memories, you remember things they taught you, showed you, and shared with you throughout your life. Those are the things you carry with you. Those are the parts of them that live on forever in the hearts and memories of the loved ones they leave behind.

I don't have any memories of Liam alive. I never got to know his personality or what kind of kiddo he would be. If he would have been more involved with sports or more musically inclined. If he would have been really outgoing and active, or more reserved and intellectual. Would he have pushed the boundaries, or been more of a ruler follower? I will never know. I don't have any of the "remember when Liam...." or "He always use to say...." In that sense I feel like I have nothing to hold onto. Even the 9 months I was blessed to have him in my life, watching him move on the monitor, or feel him kick and poke inside my stomach. Hearing his heartbeat, it seems like a flash in the pan in the grand scheme of life. Just a short time of moments and memories is not much to hold onto until eternity.

I sat in his nursery for months envisioning and thinking about "what will it be like when we actually bring him, a human being home and put him in this bed, when I rock him to sleep at night, I feel him and change him..." Now I will never know.

Instead of the "what WILL it be like" I am faced with the "what WOULD it HAVE been like" Those aren't memories for me, they were merely dreams, and now they allude me. It's that feeling of trying desperately to run in a dream while you're being chased but feel like your moving through thick glue and can't get anywhere although your running as fast as you can. Or wen your right in the middle of the season changing game and it's all tied up, and then your TV goes out and you have no idea what's happening. Or when you're falling in dream and in a panic try to yell for help until you're jolted awake to realize it was only a dream. It's that question that never gets answered, that dream that never becomes a reality, the pain that never goes away, the game you never see the end of, your still running in slow motion.

So how do you grieve the death of a dream?

How do you mourn someone you never got to really meat?

How do you keep someone's memory alive who you never got to know?

How do you bring up and talk about your dead child when it makes everyone so uncomfortable?

How do you articulate how you feel when you know now one really understands?

I am not sad because of the memories and times spent with Liam that I will never have again. I am sad because of moments, memories, and times I never got to experience at all.

February 11th 2013

Surgery~

Tomorrow I am finally having surgery to fix some issues I have had since Liam was born.

The physical aftermath I have endured is like a constant reminder that I really gave birth to a child that is no longer here. It's like a cruel joke that I am still dealing with my body trying to heal 5 months later without any of the benefits of having my child with me today. As if my broken heart and my whole world being turned upside down isn't enough, my body still has to be broken as well.

It's like being kicked while your down.

I want to remember my pregnancy fondly, after all, it's the only real memories I have of Liam alive. Those happy times of feeling him move, hearing his heartbeat, and getting to see him on the monitors.

I want to remember Liam fondly, his soft skin, big feet, cute nose, long hair....

I don't want to remember that hospital stay and all the painful and dark moments it held for me. Each time I see a doctor in regards to the complications I am dealing with, it brings those dark memories flooding back.

It's a constant reminder that our experience wasn't the norm. Liam died from placental insufficiency that caused IUGR. We were told that happens in 1% of babies. The horrible patient care we received at the hospital the day Liam was born isn't, or at least shouldn't be the norm. Then the two doctors I saw a week after Liam was born said in their combined nearly 50 years of practice they had never seen the problem that I had after giving birth.

It's like winning the worlds worst lottery several times in one week. I guess I am just that lucky.

I am nervous for being put under tomorrow and the procedure itself, healing etc. I am also nervous for the flashbacks I feel like it will be me coming home from the hospital that Tuesday without Liam. The stitches, the butt pillow, all of it. I am ready to be 100% done and get this physical part behind me, so in that sense I can start to move forward.