Changing the nursery

It's been a rough week. We decided to redo your nursery, baby Stella, to get ready for your baby sister. Even as I type it…it sounds silly. Get ready for your baby sister? Aren't we already ready? Didn't we just do this? For you? The answer is yes, we did just get ready for you and we're still ready. We literally have everything a newborn baby could possibly need. We're just missing the baby. So how are we supposed to "get ready" and prepare for your baby sister, when nothing needs done? It's just another challenge on my heart.

The decision to redo your nursery didn't come lightly. Why take apart a perfectly beautiful nursery, decorated and put together with so much love, so many dreams, so many hopes? A nursery that has never been used. But it was made for YOU, baby Stella, and you aren't coming home to use it. Doesn't your baby sister deserve her own perfectly beautiful nursery, designed just for her? We decided yes, she does. And with your help and guidance, we moved everything out and got it ready to paint. It was difficult and bittersweet, but we felt we were doing the right thing. Then, the last thing your daddy did was take your name off the wall. And it hit me like a ton of bricks. It's over. It's really over. You're gone, you're never coming back. The nursery is no longer yours. I obviously know you've been gone, but taking your name off the wall just seemed so final. So, "time to move on," just like that. But you'll always be our first baby girl. It was always your nursery first. Thanks for letting us share it with your sister.

Then today we decided to go to Buy Buy Baby. I used to LOVE going to there while pregnant with you. We had some coupons, and I thought let's just go find some stuff to buy for your baby sister. Again, we need nothing, but I guess I was trying to satisfy my "need" to prepare and get ready for baby girl. It turned into an uncomfortable trip. We wandered around trying to force ourselves to buy things we don't really need, while trying to avoid the sales people asking us about our registry (which we obviously don't have, because we don't NEED ANYTHING). By the time we left, with nothing, I was in tears. What's the point? We don't need anything. And if we do, we don't know what, because we've never had a living baby before. And then my mind goes to the darkest place of all…we shouldn't buy anything more, because what if this baby dies too.

29 weeks pregnant. 8 weeks left. 59 days to go. We pray for peace, courage, and strength to make it that far.

Stella's perfect nursery

Baby girl's nursery-on it's way to perfect

10 months

As I laid in bed this morning, wondering how the last 10 months have happened the way they have, baby girl was rolling and jumping all about. As if to say, "I know what day it is mommy, and I know you're sad, but I'm here and I'm alive and well." And hopefully in just 80 short days, our lives won't feel like they are constantly on the verge of falling apart, again. Maybe in 80 days, the hole in our hearts won't be quite so deep. Maybe.

I have such a hard time believing our life is what it is. In the last 10 months, we have been forced to learn how to live without our first baby girl. We are still learning how to live without her. I feel like we will spend the rest of our lives learning how to keep going, how to keep surviving with this hole in our hearts and this void in our lives.  I feel like I'm always on the verge of a meltdown, on the verge of losing it, just trying to keep it together. Like any little thing might send me back into the deep dark hole. And a lot of the time, I just feel like I'm faking it. Faking that I'm ok, that life is ok. It's a wear out, a wear out I've lived with for 10 months, that I'll just have to keep living with. Our lives are so different. So different from what they used to be, from what I imagined they would be. And so very different from our close friends and family.  It hurts hearts my heart to realize this, but it's just another thing we can't change, that we just have to keep learning to live with.

One thing I do know, I would not have survived the last 10 months of this heartbreaking journey without my husband, without Stella's daddy. It's difficult to feel blessed when your world has turned upside down with tragedy, but I am blessed. Blessed beyond belief for having the husband I do. Many marriages don't survive the loss of a child. I think the divorce rate is close to 80% for couples who have lost a child. But I can honestly say, our marriage has never been better and our love has never been stronger.

Help us to continue on this journey without you, baby Stella. Help us to work on making a difference in the lives of others this happens to. Help us make you proud, while we hold your memory close to our hearts, and plan your memorial golf tournament. And especially help us bring your baby sister into this world alive. We want to know what a 10 month old baby girl is like. We need to know what it's like to be parents to a living baby girl, too.

Were you helping your baby sister say hello with a rainbow? Rainbow from our viewing deck. We love both of you baby girls.

My least favorite question-6 months pregnant

"Is it your first?" Makes me want to scream at the top of my lungs, "NO, my first should be almost 10 months old, but she died 11 days before her due date. They don't know why. She was absolutely perfect. Her poor precious little heart just stopped beating for no reason! So, this is my SECOND. My second baby. My second daughter." But, somehow I don't feel like the waitress at the restaurant or the teller at the bank really need to know or hear this entire story that is my life. But, on the other hand, saying, "yes, this is our first" is a blatant lie and one I just can't stand to tell. I imagined this would be a difficult spot in this pregnancy, and it most certainly is. I don't feel the need to tell my story to every single person I meet, yet I feel like I'm betraying Stella if I don't tell the story. Needless to say, I'll be glad when I don't have to answer that question anymore. Of course, then I'm sure there will be something else. Something else that makes me uncomfortable. Like people assuming I've only got the one child, the one baby. When really, our life will never look complete again. We will always and forever be missing one. Our first one.

I'm 24 weeks pregnant today. 6 months exactly. And there are exactly 3 months left until we get to meet this new bundle of joy. Our rainbow baby. She, yes that's correct, SHE is officially scheduled to arrive Tuesday, November 25th at 7:30 A.M. I am anxiously expecting that Tuesday to be the best day of my life. High expectations, I know. November 25th, 2014 is exactly one year from the day we buried baby Stella. November 25th, 2013 was the second worst day of our lives as we laid our first baby girl to rest. November 25th, 2014 will be drastically different, as we welcome our anxiously awaited for, second baby girl. Pretty bittersweet birthday for this little girl. Thank you baby Stella for sending her to us. Thank you for making a day that we will always hold dear to our hearts even sweeter.

92 days left until the best day of my life, God willing. But who's counting?

9 months

39 Wednesdays ago our perfect world was still in tact. 39 Wednesdays ago our perfect world turned upside down before our very eyes. 39 weeks. Baby Stella, you have officially been gone from our lives longer than you were here in our lives. That seems impossible. But, even though you are physically "gone" from our lives, you are still very much with us all day, everyday. We are who we are because of you. I know I've said this a million times before and I'll probably say it for the rest of my life…but, not a single day goes by that we don't think about you, that we don't talk about you, that we don't talk to you, and that we don't miss you with all our hearts and beyond our human understanding. You are still our daughter. Our first baby girl. Our everything.

There have been over 6,000 views to this blog since I started it back in December 2013. I know a great deal of family and friends read the blog, and thank you so very much for those of you reading. I've been told it's the best way for those that truly care about us to know how we're truly doing, how our hearts are truly holding up. I couldn't agree more. We have definitely learned who our true friends and closest family are through this tragedy. As I know there are many that don't read the blog, they think it's  just too sad, too depressing. Well, that's an understatement. It's our sad, depressing life. But we wouldn't be where we are in our healing without those of you willing to read, willing to care. So, once again, thank you. Also 6,000 views seems like a lot to just be family and friends. So if there are any other mothers or families out there suffering through this same lifelong, unbearable pain, I hope this blog has helped you, as reading others blogs in the early days helped me. I hope it has helped you to at least know you are not alone on this heartbreaking journey.

Always waiting...

... For the other shoe to drop. This baby might be the only one we get, if we're actually lucky enough to get it here alive. The anxiety that comes along with this pregnancy thing, after having your perfectly healthy baby die for no reason, is almost too much for me. Too much for your daddy. Just too damn much. Things can be going along just fine. No pain, no problems, no issues. Then it's time for another routine doctors appointment and the anxiety slowly starts setting in.

First, it's excitement that we get to go back to the doctor, check on the baby, see it, and make sure all is well. Then the night before the appointment, there isn't much sleep. Then the morning of, you can't get to the doctors office early enough, fast enough. And then the worst part, the waiting room. Hurry up and wait. Let the anxiety build. Then you're expecting an ultrasound and almost fly through the roof when they tell you they don't think you have one scheduled today. I'm sorry, what?! I'm not leaving here without SEEING my baby and it's heart beating. So, into the ultrasound room you go, and we thought the waiting room was bad...the ultrasound room is like a torture chamber. This is the dark, quiet room, where you are sure your world is going to come crashing down... again. But thankfully, you see baby, you see baby's heart beating away. And almost all is right with the world once again. Almost. Until the next thing to worry about pops up or just the next routine doctors appointment.

I wish with all my heart, that I could be a normal pregnant person. I wish we could be normal, excited parents-to-be. I wish our first baby girl wasn't dead. I wish we weren't always waiting for the other shoe to drop. I could spend the rest of my life wishing we were normal, but that simply cannot be. Our lives are not normal. Normal parents aren't always missing their first born baby. We will miss her until the day we die. Normal parents don't fear being pregnant and getting to bring life into this world. We will forever fear pregnancy, this one and any other one we are blessed with, until the end of time.

Although we're exhausted from the anxiety, and ever present grief, it was a great doctors appointment and baby is doing wonderful. In even better news, they let us schedule our c-section for 37 weeks exactly. Hey, the earlier we can safely get this rainbow baby in our arms, the better! Making Monday, November 24th the official birthdate. I don't have to say "is it December yet?!" But instead, is it November yet?! Baby can share a birthday month with big sister. You don't mind do you, baby Stella? 

And best of all, I lost another Monday. Only 16 left now!

18 more Mondays

As of today, I'm officially halfway through this pregnancy. Our rainbow baby has been baking for 19 weeks, and since I'll deliver at 38 weeks at the very latest, we literally only have 19 weeks left.... At the very most. It's hard to believe we're half way through, but it's even harder to believe I still have 19 long weeks left. How am I ever going to make it that much longer?! Because even though we are halfway through, we didn't even know we were pregnant those first 4 weeks, so we've only known I was pregnant for 15 weeks, meaning I literally have more time left in this pregnancy than we've gone through thus far!! That's so much time. So instead of thinking of it like that, I'm going to try to get my crazy, anxious mind to think a little differently. Since I'm apparently into counting weeks, to say I only have 18 Mondays left, at the most, sounds more like something I can handle. Only 18 more Mondays until it's Monday, December 1st. That glorious Monday, that we are so anxiously awaiting. Can we make it 18 more Mondays? As if we have a choice. Baby has been moving a lot lately and we've been able to feel her daily since about 17 weeks, even daddy. It's the best feeling in the world, feeling the life growing inside of you. And very reassuring too. We get to say, "well, we know baby's still alive, at least right now." Keep it up baby.

You've been making yourself present a lot lately, baby Stella, and we much appreciate it. The other day when I tried to wear a different necklace besides yours to work, you certainly let me know how you felt about that. It took about all I had to even put on another necklace and it almost made me sick. Everything just felt off. Shortly after I put the other necklace on, I almost fell down putting my wedges on, almost put the garage door down on my car while driving out of the garage, and ran a red light on my way to work. Thankfully, I was rattled enough before leaving the house, I had gone back inside and grabbed your necklace, which I immediately put back on when I barely arrived safely at work. Yes, I'm aware it's just a necklace, but it somehow makes me feel closer to you and like I'm always carrying a part of you with me. After telling your daddy about my morning, he said, "all of this happened while you were not wearing Stella's necklace? Then, put the necklace back on!!" Love him. We've seen the date November 6th a few times on a few different things. I see 9:41 and 11:06 on the clock every single day. At least one of them, at least once a day, if not both times, both day and night.

Gosh, we love you baby girl. It's such an amazing feeling of peace to know you're near, watching over us and your baby sibling. Baby Stella, help us survive 18 more Mondays, until we meet our rainbow.

8 months

8 months ago today, a wall of darkness fell on our family, like nothing we've ever experienced. The aching grief that followed in the days and weeks that passed, was relentless on everyone. How we are all still standing is amazing to me. It's amazing to me to have watched our family come together in the most heart wrenching and challenging times. To love one another, to appreciate one another, and to be thankful for all that we still have. 5 months after losing you, baby girl, the darkest of clouds finally started to lift. The day we learned we were pregnant with your baby sibling. The day an ounce of hope returned to our lives. A ray of light finally broke through the darkness. Thank you for blessing us with this truly special gift, getting to carry and grow your baby sibling. With a great deal of faith and a lot of hope in our hearts, we so anxiously await their arrival. 

It's hard to believe you have been gone almost as long as you were here alive with us. How could that be? These milestones of what "should be" don't get any easier. The pain is still very present each and everyday, but it's especially raw on the 6th of each month. I know you would be a beautiful 8 month old baby. Probably laughing, trying to talk, and crawl. My heart cannot explain how much we miss you and how much we miss all the things we should be teaching you and watching you do. As you know, we pray every night that we get to have all the experiences with your sibling that we were cheated out of having with you.

I can say that losing you, baby Stella, has given us a much greater appreciation of this life than we ever could have imagined. Our family has never been closer. Our relationships with one another have never been stronger. Our love has never been so unconditional. It's weird and bittersweet, but your daddy and I are better together, than we could have ever been without losing you. We will be better, more patient, more understanding, more appreciative parents someday (God willing), thanks to you. Life is precious, life is fragile, and life is not to be taken for granted. You have taught us that, and for that, we are very thankful.

We love you, Stella St. Clair. More and more every single day. Though you cannot be here on earth with us, you are still with us. And you play such an important role in our lives. Thank you.