Hi Little Bean: March 8, 2017

The day we found out I was pregnant, I started keeping a little journal where I could document the pregnancy before we shared the news publicly. The only documenting of Carter's pregnancy that I did was through the blog, and I wish I had done more, so I really went all out with journaling for this one. I planned to share these posts after we announced her (which was supposed to be Friday), and have decided to share them anyway. Today I would have been sixteen weeks pregnant, but instead I'm sharing a picture of the first set of flowers we left at the cemetery for our little bean. Life is a strange, strange thing. 

This first post is from that special day we found out about our bean.

March 8, 2017

I have to keep a separate journal for these, because if I write them in the blog I know I will accidentally post them.

For the past few weeks, I have been an absolute crazy person. I have been angry, sad, happy, depressed...just all over the board. I’ve been craving Zupas and hamburgers like nobody’s business. I started my thyroid medication on the 24th, and had some light bleeding, so I just assumed it was my period, which I was thrilled about because it meant my body was actually working. But also in these past few weeks, I have gained like a pound a week and it has been the worst. Yesterday morning I woke up feeling super nauseous, but I just thought it was because I had caught whatever illness Alycia had in Vegas. This morning I decided to take a pregnancy test, just to see. I drank a whole 32 ounces of water, and planned to take the test right before I left for work, but when Brandon said he was going to go iron his shirt, I took advantage of the opportunity. I was all geared up to pee on the stick for five seconds, and only had enough liquid in me for about two seconds. I was sad, because if the test was negative (when the test was negative, I told myself), I was afraid I would want to take another one later when I had more water in me.

I took the test, played some Disney emoji while I waited, then looked at the test. Two lines. TWO. FREAKING. LINES. I scrambled to grab the test and run out of the bathroom, simultaneously yelling Brandon’s name and trying to unlock the bathroom door. Struggles. I opened the door and found Brandon freaking out trying to get to me, and I just yelled “I’m pregnant” and shoved the test in his face. He hugged me so fiercely I wanted to cry, but I was already crying because I was so excited about being pregnant. We hugged for a long time, and I just kept telling him how much I love him. We sat on the floor for a while just so excited, smiling and talking about how great of a day it was going to be. Then I had to finish getting ready, but I was too distracted with the good news. I laid on the bed and Brandon talked to the baby, and I just kept holding my stomach, so excited for our little bean.

I can’t believe that a year and one day after we found out we were pregnant with Carter, we found out we are pregnant again. I’m hoping to go get blood work done today to confirm it, but I am over the moon right now. I’m hoping I don’t miscarry or anything due to thyroid issues, but I feel like if I carried Carter full term, this baby is going to make it too.

We love you already, little bean. Thanks for making our day.

 

How far along? : Five weeks, maybe?
Baby is the size of: an Appleseed!
Total weight gain/loss: 2ish pounds
Sleep: Not terrible, other than the minor puking in my sleep last night haha
Best moment this week: Finding out we are pregnant!
Movement: None
Symptoms: Nausea, so much nausea
Food cravings: cheeseburgers and zupas!
Food aversions: none so far.
What I miss: Not feeling fat and pukey, but it’s so worth it for the babe
What I am looking forward to: having a first appointment!

Losing Little Bean.

A year and a day after we found out we were pregnant with Carter, we found out we were pregnant again. March 8th. I had known for a while, but we didn't get a positive pregnancy test until that day. It was the best day we'd had in a long time. And we were finally getting another chance to bring home a baby.

Everything was really good for a long time. We had an ultrasound at six weeks, then another at seven weeks, and another at eight weeks, not because anything was wrong, but because we wanted one early, and then our doctor was so nice and did one each time we saw him. We got to watch our bean grow from a tiny little dot on the ultrasound until she looked like an actual baby, and it was wonderful. I don't know how many doctors allow their patients to have eight ultrasounds by the time they are 14 weeks, but if yours does, I highly recommend it.

The first trimester was, like Carter's, a dream. I was more nauseous than I was with Carter, and food didn't seem to help, but I still never threw up! Sleep was hard to come by, but I wasn't as tired as I was with Carter, so it seemed like a fair trade. We were in Amsterdam right during the thick of my sickness, so that was a fun thing to deal with. But it didn't really matter, because I was so happy just to be pregnant again. And with this pregnancy, unlike Carter's, I craved sweets all the time. Fruits and vegetables made me want to throw up, so I just ate a lot of breads and chocolates and cookies, and already little bean and I were the best of friends.

Two Tuesdays ago, May 9th, I woke up and thought I had leaked fluid. We hurried to the ER (where they, of course, didn't hurry) and waited to have an ultrasound. When we finally got in there, the tech told us that the baby's fluid looked like, so Brandon and I relaxed, and enjoyed being able to see our wiggly little babe. She was so wiggly, just like Carter. We went back to our room and waited for the doctor to discharge us. He came back in with the nurses and sat down, and told us that the fluid levels looked fine (I just peed my pants, no big deal), but that there was something else we needed to talk about. He told us that the baby had what is called a Cystic Hygroma. He told us it was abnormal growth on the brain, and that we were going to lose the baby. We were devastated, and kind of blindsided. Everything had been fine, and we'd just had an ultrasound six days before and our doctor didn't see anything, so we had no idea where this was coming from. We went in to see our OB the next day, and he was just as frustrated as we were. He said the radiologist didn't tell him where the growth was, or how big it is, and furthermore, the ER doctor hadn't exactly given us accurate information. A Cystic Hygroma is abnormal swelling of the lymphatic system, and while it can be fatal, it can sometimes go away too. He did an ultrasound that day and said that he could maybe see what they had been looking at, but that he couldn't confirm it. We had gotten my blood drawn the week before to do DNA testing on the baby, so he said we would need to wait for that to come back before we drew any conclusions or made any plans.

That same night, he called us and said he had our results, and that he wanted to see us first thing the next day. All night we worried and talked about worst case scenarios. We sat around the house for too long, then finally left and drove around for about three hours before coming home and crashing on the couch. When Thursday morning finally came, we went to his office and waited. Our results showed that the baby had Trisomy 13, meaning she had an extra 13th chromosome, and essentially confirmed what the radiologist had seen on Tuesday. Trisomy 13 babies often have the abnormal swelling, and generally have failure of all internal organs. The hygroma would not go away, and neither would the chromosomal abnormality. Babies with Trisomy 13 can sometimes live to birth, or even one year, but the majority don't make it a full 40 weeks, and if they do, they don't usually live more than a few hours. We found out then that she was a girl, just like we knew she was. Our doctor sat with us for a long time and answered all of our questions. He told us he'd had his nurse send a referral over to a Maternal Fetal Medicine Specialist, and that we would probably hear from them by the end of the day. We left the appointment shocked and sad. We were going to lose another baby.

We drove to Logan that day to spend time with Carter. We visited with Brandon's parents while we were there and delivered the bad news, then called my parents that night to tell them. We felt so bad telling everyone, because nobody really knew what to say. We didn't even know what to say. It just seemed so unfair. But spending time with Carter that day helped. I've had a lot of spiritual experiences since we lost him that I won't go into detail about, but I know our other children have been with us through all of this, and that they were preparing for their sister to return to them.

We had Friday off too, and went to see the specialist that day. They did another ultrasound and talked us through everything they were seeing. We saw the swelling then, and it made us so sad. The baby was probably about ten centimeters long, and the swelling was 1.5 centimeters on either side of her neck. It spread down a little over her chest too. The specialist said it had grown significantly since the ultrasound on Tuesday. They told us that we would probably lose her, because the hygroma would grow and her heart would get weaker, but they couldn't give us a time frame. We could have lost her that day, or I could have carried her through to delivery. They talked about us making the decision to end her life, not that we had to, but that it was an option if we didn't feel like we wanted to carry another baby full term just to lose them. I didn't even want to think about having to consider a decision like that. No parent should have to think about that.

We were supposed to go to Boise that weekend. After the appointment, we went home to grab our bags, got an hour away from home, and I decided that I just wanted to stay home. I wanted time alone with our little family, and I felt like I needed a few days to let everything sink in before I went back to work. Little Bean was super active all weekend, and Brandon and I both got to feel her move a little. We spent Mother's Day as a little family of four, soaking up all the time we had before anything happened, and not thinking about what the future could bring.

Monday morning I woke up at 4:30 to our little bean kicking, but when I got up an hour later to shower, I felt different. I didn't say anything to Brandon, because I didn't want to believe it, but all day I think I knew. I went to Costa for lunch with Alycia and had a Diet Coke to see if the baby would move, but I didn't feel anything. I called Brandon and told him I wanted to go in and listen to the baby's heart, even though we were supposed to have an appointment on Wednesday. We showed up at the office, and even though we weren't on the schedule, our doctor made room for us right away. I felt so bad for the nurse, because it wasn't the usual nurse we see, and we had to explain why we were there. I wanted to tell her not to listen, and that the doctor should be the one to do it, but I didn't want to seem high maintenance, so I let her do it, and in turn, broke her heart. She finally gave up and went to get the doctor, who fought it for a long time too. Finally he took us into the ultrasound room, looked at her fluids, and essentially everything but her heart, until it was the last thing left to look at . There was no little flutter, no heartbeat. I had asked Brandon the day before to download the recording app so we could record the sound of her heartbeat, and we didn't get to do it. That was what made me the most sad. I knew she was gone before we went to the doctor, but I'm glad I listened to my instinct and asked to go in.

Losing our little bean wasn't as much of a shock as losing Carter was. We had known it was probably going to happen for about a week, and were honestly glad that it happened on its own, rather than us having to have considered ending her life. Her pain didn't go on for longer than necessary, and we had her with us for Mother's Day. Really, the timing was okay. We hadn't planned to do the blood draw for the genetic testing until this last Wednesday, but I got antsy and did it two weeks early. Had we not done it then, we would have had to wait on an autopsy from her to find out why we had lost her. Had we miscarried in the first trimester, we would never have known why, and would have wondered if it would be safe to keep trying. We had a karyotype done in November to check mine and Brandon't chromosomes, and both are completely normal. This was, once again, a rare stroke of bad luck. 

The chances of having a stillborn are 1 in 23,000. The chances of losing a baby to Trisomy 13 are 1 in 20,000. The chances of both happening to us are 1 in 460 million. And this is why we don't gamble.

The doctor got me on his schedule for a D&C the next day. I could have been induced and tried to deliver her naturally, but more than likely I would have needed a D&C anyway, so we decided to make the process as stress and pain free as possible. We went in Tuesday, and had our little girl.

Our doctor was so sweet, and treated everything as much like a normal birth as he could. He took the giraffe receiving blanket we had for her and told us he would get it to her. He told us she was born at 2:45, and he told us she was pretty.

And just like that, we became a little family of four.

There are bright spots among all the clouds of our situation. We know we can have healthy babies, it just hasn't happened for us yet. But it will. We are as optimistic as we can be right now, even though the days are painted with occasional meltdowns and fits about how life is really unfair. I miss being pregnant, and I miss having a reason to get out of bed smiling every morning, but it will happen again.

We love our little bean, and are so happy to have had her for the time we did.

 

**We took the picture in the hospital for the sake of remembering. We wanted the "delivery" to be as typical as possible, even though it most definitely is not, and wanted to remember May 16th as the day our little girl was born.

Brandon's birthday week!

Brandon turned the big 2-9 on Thursday last week!! Sometimes it's weird to think about the fact that he was 23 when we got married, and is 29 now, because in my head I think he'll always be right around 26. But I guess we all have to get older sometime, right? We went and saw The Circle on Tuesday last week, which was pretty good. I liked it as much as I liked the book anyway. Wednesday, we went and got ice cream. Random question. Has anyone else ever had the banana ice cream from Coldstone? Not every location sells it anymore and it makes me so sad!! It's so good!! Anyway. Thursday, Brandon's actual birthday, he went out to lunch with a friend, and we saw Guardians of the Galaxy that night. Brandon loves popcorn, so getting to refill our giant bucket twice in one week was honestly probably the best birthday present I could give him haha. But I did give him a real present! He gets to drive a super fast car around an autocross track. It's not happening until July but he had so much fun driving in Amsterdam that I thought this would be even more fun for him!

Friday night we actually decided to be social and went to a new friends house for tacos! We met lots of new people, played games, and ate really good food. I was really happy we decided to not be homebodies for a night; it was nice to get out and do something different! We stayed until about ten, even though we probably could have stayed longer, because we wanted to make sure we got up early the next morning to head to Logan. 

We got to Logan around noon on Saturday (so no, our getting up early plan did not work), but it was such a nice day that we were able to sit with Carter for a long time and just chat with him and each other. Brandon picked out eclairs for his birthday treat, so we took those to the cemetery and shared them with our boy as much as we could. After our time with Carter, we went to Brandon's parents house for a family barbecue. We ate kabobs, had cake, and watched Brandon open his presents. It was nice to have some time with his family! We tried to leave before the rain came, but it was raining pretty hard when we stopped on our cemetery on our way out of town. Right as Brandon put the car in park, the rain lightened a little, so we were able to get out and say goodbye to Carter without getting soaked. 

Sunday was uneventful besides our nice little bike ride down by the river. We've been in Logan for out of town for so much of the weekends since we lost Carter that it's always nice to be home and have quality time with Brandon. And I'm stoked that it's finally staying warm enough that we can go play outside! In summary, I'm pretty sure Brandon had a good birthday week. He's most important, obviously, but even if he didn't have fun, I sure enjoyed all the time I got to spend with him!

 
 
 
 
 
 

Six months.

Brandon and I have talked a lot about how the 26th of every month is quite a bit harder than the 27th. This month, the 26th and 27th fall on a Wednesday and Thursday, today and tomorrow. And while tomorrow will be hard, thinking back on what happened six months ago from today is a lot harder.

It's weird to explain, but Carter's birthday is a beautiful day for me, despite the sadness that tinged everything. We finally got to meet our sweet boy, see his face, hold him, kiss his little chubby cheeks. We became a family of three that day.

Thinking about our appointment the afternoon before though, that's a different story. I don't know how much detail I went into when I posted his story; those first few weeks were all a blur. The day of our 39 week appointment, I left work and called Brandon to see how close he was, then told him to just go home and that I would pick him up on my way to the appointment. I can't stress enough how important this was on that day. We had never ridden together to an appointment. Ever. But for some reason, it worked out that day that we could, and I'm so grateful we did. We got there, the nurse took my vitals, and then the doctor came in. He asked if I had felt the baby move, and my gut told me to say no. It was mostly true, I thought I had maybe felt some movement, but I kept telling him no. He tried to find a heartbeat, but couldn't, then left for what felt like a million years to wait for the ultrasound to open.

I'll never forget the look on his face. He looked and looked and looked, and waited for there to be something, anything, but his face just dropped and I knew. 

I felt like I had cried everything out earlier, when he couldn't find the heartbeat, but somehow my body still had enough fluids to keep crying. I will never forget the feeling of Brandon dropping my hand and holding me, but I remember feeling like he needed me to be the one to hold him. I kept saying "this is not real life, this can't be happening." I kept waiting to wake up, but it was real, and it wasn't going away. We left the office in shock, and called our parents with the most disappointing news I have ever had to share. My mom's reaction is one I won't forget either. I can't think about it without crying. We went home, put away the pack n play, cleaned a few things out of our hospital bag, and headed to the hospital all too calmly. 

But from there, our experience turned into something special. Sure, we knew we were about to deliver our son that wouldn't be coming home with us, but we were so well taken care of. The first nurse was strong and sad at the same time, and made sure we were comfortable. We were visited by family, and got to laugh and smile and be hugged. All through the night, I got to experience labor pains. The second nurse and Brandon dealt with angry Caitlin, when the pain got so intense that I could barely take it, and I got to see just how much my husband loves me. Not every man would want to wipe away his wife's sweat with a cold cloth as she's yelling at him. And then, I got to sleep. I got to rest for a bit before doing the hardest thing I will ever have to do in my entire life. And then, I got to deliver him. Now, I'm sure that childbirth is not pretty (I don't know, I didn't watch), but it is the most beautiful thing I have done and will ever do. I pushed for seriously, all of about two minutes, and then they laid our beautiful sleeping boy on my chest. Few things rival the beauty of that moment. In fact, at least in my life, nothing will ever compare to that. And so we spent time with him, and we shared him with our parents. And we were taken care of and protected by a wonderful nurse who has become a dear friend. We had to say goodbye to him, but at least in order to say goodbye, we got to say hello. I wouldn't trade those hours or months with him to not feel this pain. I would take all the pain in the world to have as much of him as I can.

So today, six months after we got the worst news, I will be sad. Today I will cry and remember the things we felt as we sat in the doctor's office that afternoon. But tomorrow will be different. Tomorrow I will cry as I look through pictures of our beautiful boy, and I will remember what a special day October 27th is. And as the 27th of each month passes, I will remember our boy with light, happiness, and just a touch of sadness. 

Fear of forgetting.

Half of this was written on the bathroom floor, and I couldn't bring myself to read through and edit it, so sorry in advance if there are any typos/grammatical errors.

I was going to post another day of Amsterdam, but I wanted to talk about Carter today. It's going to get real, and if I say anything that makes you feel like you should apologize to me, please don't. That's not what I'm getting at, I just wanted to write about how I feel.

I wrote about this two weeks ago, but it has still been looming over me. Honestly, I don't know that it will ever go away, but I wish my anxiety about it would just simmer down. I'm afraid of a lot of things in life, spiders, snakes, death, heights, the dark, but I've never been so afraid of anything as much as I fear people forgetting about Carter. It's a very strange feeling, to have carried a baby for nine months, have the ultrasounds hanging on your fridge, all the clothes washed and in his dresser, have the crib and bassinet set up, ready for a little body, and then never get to bring him home. I've said it before, but I'm the kind of person that over-prepares for everything. It feels like that's what I've done. Like, in preparation to maybe have a baby someday, I bought all this stuff, and even went so far as to have other people buy it for me, and I washed everything and I hung pictures on the wall and I straightened the sheet in his crib, just in case I one day was lucky enough to get pregnant and bring a baby home. And then I think about being in the hospital, and sitting at the cemetery, and I look at pictures of him, and sometimes I just wonder, whose life is this? Whose life am I witnessing because it surely isn't mine. It's not solid or tangible enough to be mine. I can't grasp onto any fleeting memory strong enough or long enough to recognize it as my own. It all went too fast.

But I, as his mother, am the only person that knows how it felt to carry him, to feel his little kicks, to feel the contractions and to go through the process of delivering him and know the pain of recovering emotionally as well as physically. I am the only person that knows what it's like to watch my husband hold his son and gently kiss him on the forehead as he cries. 

Other people know our pain. They read our stories and they see Carter's pictures and I know they know him and love him. For now. But what happens in one or five or ten years when everyone's lives get busier and our pain lessens, and not every single thing I post is tinged with a hint (or a heap) of sadness? How is everyone else supposed to remember when some days I feel like none of it was real? 

It means so much to have people write or say his name. It means the world to me when other people validate that he was real because sometimes it feels like he wasn't. There are days that I can't validate it myself, and other people, unknowingly, do it for me. But what about when no one does that anymore? What about when other people have babies born on October 27, and no one remembers the little boy born that didn't get to live with his parents?

I don't feel like a real mom, because my son is not here. What if, down the road, people will forget about the son I had in 2016? What if they look at our family, me and Brandon and whatever kids we have at home, and they forge about the one that isn't there? What if we move away and no one goes to see him? What if our future kids get made fun of because they talk about a brother that lives in heaven? 

What if what if what if.

What if Brandon and I are the only two people that ever remember him? Realistically, that's all that really matters. But what about when people forget that I have a giant, permanent hole in my heart? What about when someone wants me to do something on October 27 and I don't want to? Will they remember why I spend the whole day crying, or will they just tell me I'm too sensitive and need to get over it? How long is it okay to not be okay? Because right now, it feels like it will be forever.

On coming home.

We always take a sad picture on our last day of vacation. I don't really know why, but this one is from San Diego a few years ago.

We come home from our trip tomorrow, and I'm already sad about it. I should clarify. I'm sitting at my desk typing this two days before we even leave for our trip, and I'm already sad about coming home. Vacations always go way too fast, don't they? You don't want the vacation to be over, and then you get home and you feel like you need a vacation from your vacation. You just can't win. The only good solution, I think, is just for all of us to quit our jobs and travel the world for the rest of our lives. Who's with me?

Also, in the spirit (my own personal spirit, anyway) of coming home from a vacation, I'd like to hear where we should travel to next. When we get home from a vacation, I need about three days to recover, and then I'm back on Expedia pricing out trips. So if anyone would like to offer up suggestions as to where we should go, I'm all ears!

Hope you've all had a great week, and have a happy Easter!

Ten things about me.

Sometimes I really dislike feeling so connected to my phone all the time, but social media has done some pretty neat things for us since we lost Carter. I have been able to connect with a lot of other angel moms, and have felt so much love and support from friends and strangers near and far.

That being said, I've had quite a few new people visit the blog. I feel like probably the only things they know about me are that I have the best husband, lost my son, and love Disney. While all three are true (and honestly probably the most important pieces of my life) I thought I'd share a little bit more about myself! So here we go!

  1. I really am married to the greatest man. He is the best husband, son, and dad I could ever ask to have in my life, and I'm constantly trying to figure out ways to repay him for all the kindness and love he's given me in the past six years.
  2. We have one perfect little angel baby, Carter Mckay, that we love very much, even though our time on earth with him was way, way too short.
  3. We are parents to two fur babies, Sophie and Milo (and honestly I would totally take them to work with me if I could, that's how much I love them).
  4. Traveling is our favorite past time. A lot of our trips involve Disney (land or world, and even Disneyland Paris one time!), but we love to get outside of our normal day to day routine and see different sides of each other.
  5. Second to traveling is eating. Pizza, ice cream, and Costa Vida are our favorites.
  6. I love to read and write! Young Adult novels are my favorite to read (and consequently, write), and I am working on my second novel. 
  7. I hate surprises. Or least, I hate knowing about them. When Brandon tells me that he has bought me something, but I have to wait for it, I'm the worst. I'll pester him endlessly until he either gives in and tells me, or the thing finally shows up. I guess mostly I hate patience. I don't have any, and I don't like trying to.
  8. For some random reason, Brandon and I both have a soft spot in our heart for North Carolina. I loved it just from reading Nicholas Sparks books, but when we went for vacation one summer, we fell in love. 
  9. I enjoy trivia and trivia game shows. I'm awful at it, but I think it's so fun.
  10. Maybe I just like puzzles in general? In college, I used to do the Sudoku in the school paper every Monday/Wednesday/Friday. One time, some kid tapped me on the shoulder and told me that he and his friends had been racing against me and trying to beat me for weeks, and asked how I was so fast! Haha. It is probably one of my very favorite stories I have, and I always forget about it.

Maybe that was some fun insight for some people? I feel kind of dumb doing it, like I'm a big deal or something, but I genuinely appreciate everyone that reads the blog, and just want to connect with you more! Happy Wednesday!

 

**shout out to Sugar Rush Photography for the great pics of us at someone else's wedding!

Airplanes on airplanes.

Before we went to Disneyland in January, I knew that certain aspects of the trip were going to be a little difficult/sad. We announced our pregnancy to my family at Disneyland last year in March, and the one thing I remember most prominently is standing teary eyed on a corner near city hall as we shared our wonderful news. That corner was the one thing I knew I really wanted to avoid. 

In the days leading up to our trip, Brandon told me that he bought me a gift, and that it should be at our house before we left. We checked the mail right before we left, and it wasn't there. He was so sad, because he had double checked with the seller that it would be here on time, and it still wasn't. He ended up telling me what it was, and even though I didn't have it, I still thought about it all weekend, and it was just as special. 

The gift wasn't just for Disneyland, even though it is Disney themed. We have taken it with us when we've driven somewhere for a weekend, and it's with us now (yes, as you are reading this) as we sit on the airplane heading somewhere exciting.

This little pin is one of the many ways we get to take Carter with us on trips, even though he isn't here. It's perfect, since we go to Disney for vacation so often, but I love that we have it to take with us everywhere else. We didn't know that an airplane themed nursery would be so perfect, but I love knowing that wherever we go, he's up there in his little plane, following us around the world.

 
 

Being remembered.

I know I mentioned it a little in Friday's post, but lately I've been afraid people are starting to forget about what happened. Not meaning that they don't remember Carter or that we lost him, but that they don't remember the aftermath of everything we've been through, and the grief we are still dealing with. Most days, it's really easy to put on a big smile and fake it, and some days, we're actually okay. But I worry that the good days will outshine the bad, and people will forget that the hard days still exist. 

I almost hate to say this, because I feel like it makes me sound greedy, but the day the mass influx of sympathy cards stopped coming, I cried so much. Every time I checked the mailbox and there was nothing but junk mail or bills, my heart broke a little more. I don't know why, but  for those of us who have experienced a loss, I think we almost need someone else to validate it. We need someone to let us know that the person we lost was real, not just in our heads. The days there were no cards, I felt like I had made all of it up. Like I made up this little baby, somehow made my belly bigger, bought all the nursery things for no reason, and then was drowning in my own imaginary physical and emotional pain. It was hard. It's hard to explain, but the outside validation meant a lot.

Over time, it's gotten better. I kept all of the cards we were sent, so sometimes I reread them. On March 27th, five months after we lost him, I went up to a quiet room we have at work and read back through the comments from everyone when I posted that we lost him, and I read through the comments on my blog post about our boy and his pictures. Hearing his name from other people, and knowing that we're not alone, has helped so much.

Material things have gotten me through this. It doesn't make sense, because nothing will ever be able to replace Carter, but with every necklace, airplane item, or whatever else I buy, the giant hole in my heart is filled just a little. 

Last week was complete crap. I felt like no one remembered him, like no one cared. I felt like people were afraid to talk to us about him and about anything for fear of saying the wrong thing. But we have been given some very strong reminders in the past few days that have helped my heart to not feel so much anxiety about people remembering our little family. And with each gift, I have cried so much, not because I miss Carter (even though I do, every single day), but because people remember him. People remember this perfect little boy that I grew inside me and brought into the world. People remember that even though we don't have our son with us at home, we are still parents, strong parents that do a different kind of hard work than typical parents. People remember that our house, our lives, his nursery, our arms, are all a little emptier than they should be.

I'm not telling you this so you'll send me things, please believe me when I say that. Just knowing you think of him whenever you see an airplane is enough. Mostly I wanted to write this post to say thank you again. The cards, gifts, and Facebook posts right after we lost him meant and still mean so much to us. They let us know we aren't alone. And to those people who have given us gifts this past week, there's no way you knew exactly how awful I've been feeling, but thank you for just knowing, somehow, and doing something so kind to brighten my week.

Thank you for remembering our boy, and for every ounce of love you've shown the three of us.

 

**title picture is one of the recent gifts from my dear friend and sorority sister from Cardall & Co.  on Etsy. I cried for fifteen minutes when I opened it.