Intimacies with Death

I am neither defined by my pain

nor chained by my pain;

But I am buffed

and Shine

after the intensity, the brutality of my pain.

Dreams Invaded

        Last night I experienced a dream where I had just delivered a teeny, healthy baby girl. She nursed with ease and I felt joy in nourishing her. This of course contrasts my last nursing reality, where my baby daughter preferred a bottle to my warmth because the stress I was under stole my milk away. In my bright dream my body was strong and healthy. I was up moving; going places the first day after delivery which, while in the dream gave me happy satisfaction, upon waking left me utterly empty. Because I wake up to a body with three c-sections, all products of the tragedy of my conceptions. Even if I had the miracle of carrying a baby girl healthily to term, I would never again give birth naturally: certainly wouldn't be springing about hours afterward.

        All dreams string along some bit of the bizarre and this dream's oddity was that I nursed my sweet baby for twelve perfect minutes, then laid her to sleep while I left the hospital and visited my sister and brother in law. I shared my triumphant delivery news only after chit-chatting for some length. How had I forgotten such a monumental life event? They looked from my flat stomach to my empty arms and their eyes asked the question their decency did not allow voice; why had I abandoned my baby?
        After that scene the dream’s warm, joyful feelings were drowned out by several sudden fits of panic as I dashed from place to place, ecstatic for the physical ease of vaginal delivery then suddenly seized with fear that I had forgotten to go back and nurse my baby! I was a busy mother of four kids already and I couldn't remember to feed my new girl baby every three hours. What kind of mother was I? How could I take my miracle so lightly? Why didn't the joy I felt lead me to hold and cherish my baby? Was she okay, left alone with nurses and sterile rooms, possibly crying for food? What was wrong with me?!

         I awoke with the wanting of a baby coursing through my body, and the shame of failure bubbling up from my gut. I did love my first two children and their natural deliveries. How could I have known how special those seasons were and what grief I would later carry when I could no longer experience such birthing joys?  Dreaming for a child is simple, pure, filled with love. It is both noble to pursue and magical to experience. I have been given so many gifts in my children, more than many, both in the children living and the dead. As the door for healthy, natural delivery of a Haught child closed, my heart began slowly, ever so quietly to grieve.
        Now, almost two years after my last girl was miraculously born via a reckless C-section – the stubborn fighter I was told was miscarrying – this grief has spilled over. I wade daily through the loss. Last night it poured over into my dreams, though babies were not on my mind the day before. I feel gratitude for what I have been given and sadness that I can not control my family and reproduction like many other Americans. My sadness surprises me! It shocks me. Sometimes it shames me. So here is my confession - a voiced fear. Here's to living with peace, contentment, gratitude, even while dreams are stripped away.

SIDS

Reading about seratonin, that lovely "happy chemical" which I appear genetically low in, I came across this -

In humans, defective signaling of serotonin in the brain may be the root cause of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS). Scientists from the European Molecular Biology Laboratory in Monterotondo, Italy^[77] genetically modified lab mice to produce low levels of the neurotransmitter serotonin. The results showed the mice suffered drops in heart rate and other symptoms of SIDS, and many of the animals died at an early age. Researchers now believe low levels of serotonin in the animals' brainstems, which control heartbeat and breathing, may have caused sudden death.^[57] If neurons that make serotonin — serotonergic neurons — are abnormal in infants, there is a risk of sudden infant death syndrome (SIDS).^[78]
(Wikipedia article explaining seratonin)

Happy to hear a possible, likely scientific link that can be measured and even altered. Irritated that I have never had a hormone panel done in pregnancy and neither have my little babies. Knowing people who have lost an infant to SIDS, who also have depression in their family, I wonder, could a lack of seratonin have been culprit? Could a life saving solution be so simple? Once again, the gross under-researched mental health part of humanity leaves a chasm of pain that will no doubt one day be filled in with hard-packed grains of awareness and simple cures.

Pre-birthday jitters

My still born's birth day is in 2 days. I think about it a lot;or more to the point, the fact pops into my head a lot. Then it gets quickly rerouted under a pile of other avoided thoughts in my mind. Certainly this sorting isn't conscious, but it's real. My infant death daughter, Claire, with her shimmery copper hair, had her own birth day just two months ago and I did the same thing leading up to it. I have been doing the same procrastinating and avoiding each and every passing birthday - combined now there have been 9 (well, will be in two days). So I think 9 times over this behavior can be considered a pattern!
My heart feels the reality and the love and the loss but my mind doesn't want to linger there for long. No answers yet, just an observation.
One day, hopefully soon, I will write about Claire's special 4th birthday. It was a powerful one that I am still recovering from. This birthday particularly struck my daughter this year. And for Jackson's 5th year birth day service? I've decided to veer from our "normal" service and do something less monetary but nonetheless vital: write. I've decided that I will write a piece about his life/birth/impact/etc. I AVOID it like I do the planning of these babies birthdays, even while it hurts me to do so. I never feel completely at peace if I'm not writing about it in some fashion.
While I still don't understand the losses or my life in any sense, really, one tiny solid gem I do have is this: that the stories must be written. Jackson told me there was a mission for me and my husband in his death. So here's to discovering it, to living it. This year I am giving service to myself. (Sad that I really do need it this year. But that's okay, right? We all need some servicing now and then.) I am going to sit with that side of me that avoids the pain and the plans and the memories and I am going to allow her to come to the top of the pile. Then I am going to write about it. Somehow I know that this would greatly please my son.

Cradles at the Graves

     I'm going to AZ soon. One must do on the trip is a visit to the graveyard. Urgency compels me to check in and make sure it's safe and intact (it's a private graveyard in the high desert). But I dread the visit secretly. I haven't told even my husband (have I? hmmm...can't recall) how going there makes me feel helpless. And I HATE feeling helpless in regards to my babies! As other parents know, not getting to save your child's life is undermining enough. I hate going to the grave and wanting to make it better while physically unable to do much. I want a tree, or two or three growing there. Mesquites grow naturally. We might prune a few into trees and with just the magic of the sheers and time receive a beautiful shade source. But the Haught family has some powerful aversion to mesquites and my husband forbids it. My mom and step dad planted a Palo Verde once, to commemorate a birthday. It was gone when I came back a few months later. Apparently the Haught aversion extends to Palo Verdes as well. Desert Landscaping doesn't translate well into Peaceful Haloed Gravesides. So I feel helpless and maybe just a tad resentful of this hand tying!
     Nature itself seems to push down my high imaginations for my family's gravesides.
One thing thrives in the graveyard - red ants! They love Jackson's grave. Each visit we faithfully eradicate the ant hills and each time in between the visits the bustling ants build another home.
Still, I would not trade my helpless frustrations for a public graveyard. In AZ so many cemeteries require only silk flowers - NOT my ideal gift of love to my babies. In Coupeville, Washington, where I currently live, the town cemetery forbids silk flowers! I just discovered that gem this weekend while on a rambling drive by the seaside cemetery. That's one thing about the small town I really love! Maybe I aught to empowering myself with my graveyard and only allow real flowers to be placed there!

A gift I recently was regifted... Just found this!

Kelly,
Christmas is around corner and I just wanted to let you know that you and your family are in my thoughts.
I am being a secret santa to one of my best friend who became a single mother of 2 young girls last year.

Instead of buying gifts to each other or to our family, we decided to send cash to her in memories of Jackson and Clair.

She won't know who it came from, but she'll know that she's rememberd and loved, and that someone wanted to be extra nice to her because of 2 angels I know.

I think of you and your babies a lot, and i hope you and your family will feel their presense close always, especially this Christmas season.

Love,
XXXX

Christmas Remembrances & New Years Reflections

 

     An abrupt, tender surprise during our Christmas tree decorating: Ornaments with Claire and Jackson's photos, made as gifts in past years to help us get through the holiday without them. A sweet, sad surprise. What a great gift! Highly recommend them.

     Trey holding the ornament depicting his older brother, without whose death Trey would not have been born, brought happy feelings. Trey has been my light, my joy, the energy pushing my life forward. If I didn't have him to hang the ornament, it may look more dismal and less glittery. I'm so blessed that I have been able to bear children after losing them. It's not a gift that I ever take for granted. Just yesterday I was out running up a windy path overlooking the ocean and I had to pause in gratitude. I was thankful - I am thankful I'm alive and happy enough to take in such scenes:

 

I think of my body growing 6 intricate little beings, conceiving 8, being cut open 3 different times to deliver them; it's amazing that I can run! It's a testament to the power of the human body to heal and regenerate, and to the human spirit to heal and deepen. My life is deeper in love because of my babies dying. I hold parenting in highest respect - even here in Washington where many people look down at stay at home moms. (Yes, I am in Washington now! That's another post in itself.)  I admire families that have buried little ones. I feel so much love for them! I feel like you are my own family. Your kids are with my kids. Your trials take similar outlines as mine.

Now I'm rambling. So here is a very late Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you all! I love the baby loss community. I don't blog often, but there isn't a day that I don't think of the kids - both my own and others'.

Claire's birthday gift to others

Remember how we made Remembrance Boxes for Claire's second birthday back in July of 2011? Well, my husband's good grandmother wanted to help make pretty blankets for the boxes. That took longer than either of us anticipated! Then my printer broke and I was planning to use it to make "In loving memory of..." labels on the bottom of each box. I also needed to print short explanations for the tiny plastic bag in each box (think jewelry baggy). Those were added for saving a lock of hair from the cherished baby. My CD burner broke too, which shut down my idea of giving a CD with songs specially mentioning baby loss. And, to top it off, it just sunk me into a funk to think of families shocked and devasted, opening this meager gift that can't replace their child.  So, with all these hickups, the boxes quickly became part of my craft room decor.
Always on my mind, never at the top of my to-do list. But then one day shortly after my last little miracle was born (I got a healthy girl!) my ARTISTIC friend came to visit. She was not as afraid of those boxes as I was. Most of the blankets were done but I was afraid they wouldn't fit in the boxes. She quickly rolled them up and tied them with a pretty ribbon! Problem solved. I showed her the teeny lock-of-hair baggys. She cut cardstock small enough to fit into the baggy and drew a teeny lock of hair with a short explanation on it. Problem solved! I broke down and handwrote the labels of the bottom of each box. I let the CD become a nice dream. And within an hour 5 boxes were ready to go to my husband's hospital, who desperately needed them!
It felt soooo good! It was exciting! It felt a little like Claire was there too. I am happy to do something I never would have even considered doing if Claire hadn't entered my life.
I've only got a few days until her 3rd birthday comes up! I am determined to get the others done before then! No more procrastinating! Sometimes I think it takes someone who's not emotional about it to help kick it in gear. Pain can paralize you. Pushing through it is so energizing though!

A visit with Anne Shirley

Last night I was woken from a bad dream by my precious little newborn (6wks now). After feeding her I still had that icky feeling that often lingers after even the most abstract bad dreams. So I decided to read a few pages from my Anne of Green Gables series to lighten my mind before I fell back asleep. The books are always light, always positive. I'm on the 5th novel of the rediculously light series (Anne's House of Dreams).
 But last night- when I most needed it, what's my luck? I literally started reading about Anne delivering her first child, a pale, precious little girl. Her ecstacy is quickly squelched when the baby dies. The author then describes her anguish and sorrow - a first for the serially happy Anne. She can not feel any joy in life anymore.
Wow. So instead of being upset by the weird hormone dream, I got to be upset by stirred up memories of my own real nightmares!
I actually really appreciate the author's description of her experience. It was authentic, raw. In some, possibly perverse way, it comforts me to know that women of past generations shared my trials. My pain is not new, uncommon or even unique. Throughout time, it's just that bad. No way around it.
I used to identify with Anne through her imagination and abhorrance of a plain name. Now we are 'kindred spirits' in motherhood.

Dragonfly Lives

It's almost been three years since little Claire was born, lived a brief 4 hours, then passed into a better world while in my arms. How the dragonfly emerged as a visual sign that she visits us I don't exactly know. But, WOW, are the dragonflys present in our family now!
A few weeks ago my husband learned something about these delicate insects. The lifespan of adult dragonflys - those we actually recognize, is actually really short. They spend more time in their developing, 'infant' state than mature. What a fitting symbol for my child, who lived much longer in embryo than out of the womb. The two are kindred beings in a sense.

Painfully Recalling

There are poignant experiences I will never forget. One such was the moment my third child was born. It was a brief but challenging exercise to get him out (he was my biggest baby). Then all at once I felt a flow; suddenly I was empty inside and this beautiful little bundle was quietly lifted above me, swept off to my right. It was as though the air in the room was purified, the lights crispened, something holy entered. Even amid the weight of my grief and disbelief, my whole body surged for him as I reached out for him and exhaled in awe. He was so perfect. I felt such pride for him. All at once I was the richest and poorest mother in the world.

I'm Still Alive!!!

me now, 34 weeks

Baby "Harlee" 26wks

Not sure why I have avoided the blog for soooo long. But, today I decided it is enough!
Obviously, I am pregnant yet again. My husband and I feel this will be our last roll of the dice. We prayed about it the whole first year of our miracle baby's life and a surprising answer was get pregnant (it was either that or adopt).
I felt a lot of peace that everything would be fine.
At a mere 7wks I started bleeding! Was told I had a subchorrioonic bleed - which can happen to anyone, anytime, and likely was miscarrying due to its size. I went home and put myself on bedrest. Confused that my peaceful feelings led me swiftly here! WHY do I seem to get all the random baby problems out there!!!???
Long story short, i am off bed rest now and the bleed has completely healed on its own.
I see amazing high risk docs at Phoenix Perinatal Associates in Mesa, twice a week now. And all is well.
I'm thrilled to be 34 weeks - a week PAST where I delivered my little preemie Trey with the cord 6x around his neck and 2x around his body. No sign of the cord anywhere it shouldn't be with this baby. As of today, no troubles here.

I just want to express to all baby widowed moms possibly trying again, for me the hardest part has been the complete lack of control. None of us have it in reality, but most moms get to ignorantly feel like they are controlling their babie's destiny with a few glasses of water and some prenatals. We know we have no control over this most sacred, special time. It's hard to live with that daily, knowing the heartache that could await.
I went through a little depression with this pregnancy for sure. The lack of feeling in control of my deepest hopes was challenging. But the peaceful feeling won out (I highly recommend prayer before and during pregnancy) and i am ok! Also, my Dr advised me to drink a TON of water and get outside EVERYDAY. Seems silly, but it works! Water boosted my energy, and energy zapped the bluesy fatigue, as did getting moving and getting busy.
Lastly, guess what I have seen at EVERY Dr appt? Every one? A butterfly. It's as if my still born son is cheering me on and trying to let me know it's going to be okay (because I have had many "scary" Dr. visits where it looks like it may be headed south - never does though). From the pattern on the nurses scrubs to a sheet of paper handed to me embossed with it, the butterfly keeps popping up. What a special thing for me to have this connection with the other side! How neat to have family silently helping lift burdens. Special ones, these angel babies.

Got a Visit Today

This morning as I drove to work out a dragonfly very distinctly flew in front of my car. I had a thought that Claire was here. It was a bigger than normal idea that felt right. I wondered why today.
I work out in a church gym a few times a week. My 14 month old wanders around the whole time. He plays with balls and generally tries not to get clobbered by bigger kids. The cool down song is always "If I Die Young" by the Band Perry. Each time I lay there stretching to lyrics about a rainbow helping a mother know her baby is ok, I feel not just sweaty, but naked! "Not even gray but she buries her baby." I think, "Here I am. Not a stitch of gray. I recall the graveyard, the headstones. Just a cool song to so many, but powerful memories inside me.
My usual naked feeling today crossed over to sadness. Tears welled up and I felt so sad. I thought of Claire and missed her so. I felt the bitterness of having to let her go so soon after I had her. I stared at the floor and tried to stay stoic.
The next thing I know Trey is between my legs, clutching me in a bear hug. Then he lays his head down on my shoulder and pats my arm - PATS my arm like he's comforting me! And what a comfort a warm baby is when grieving the loss of your baby. I had a humbled feeling of gratitude for his little miraculous life. I thought that Claire was right there with me. She somehow communicated to Trey to love on me with those warm physical arms that she doesn't have right now. It was so sweet and tender, lasting several moments.  Around me were happy, light conversations. But in my tiny space was ministering by an angel, my angel. I felt grateful she was there for me in that moment.
When I told my husband, he said yesterday while watering the yard he saw both a butterfly and a dragonfly in quick succession. He never sees them in our (dead) yard.
A few hours later I had something pretty serious rock my world. Without going into detail, I needed some bolstering. I got a blessing and part of it said that there are angels right now around me, participating in our situation. Instantly I thought of my daughter letting me know she was here today. There were reasons she was here, some I may never know fully. I felt so lucky. Most of the time it's a quick passing, a brush with something magical. But rarely is it enough to stick with me in a way that I KNOW I had contact with the other side. Life's just not like that. So I will hold tightly to today, and feel most honored to be a part of my family, both here and on the other side.

Claire's 2nd birthday

We were in Colorado on Claire's second birthday. I was overwhelmed that it's been two years. I can't belive it. If time did not confirm this, I wouldn't believe it. Time in my life has stood still. I remember carrying her, feeling grateful each day as she moved, then worried sick when she stopped. I remember the progression leading to her delivery in the hospital all too well. The time with her, alive and dead, is too overwhelming at times to recall, though it is priceless for me.
When it comes down to it, I miss her. I had a relationship, subtle an unspoken, with her, and it's sad to go on without her here. I miss her little personality.
Luckily, we drove right by the graveyard on our way to Colorado. It felt really good to stop there. I certainly felt sadder this year than last.
I hoped to see a dragonfly on Claire's birthday, but didn't expect it. I guessed that being on vacation there would be a lot of distractions. Well, this is why we need our friends! My friend - who also lost a little girl, called me into the front room. She spotted the biggest dragon fly I have ever seen sitting right outside the front door! It stayed there for a while, when flew right at me before it fluttered around the yard for the next several minutes. It was really encouraging. Of course, I didn't get my camera in time! But, I cherish the memory, and it means even more that a dear friend looked for me. We all need each other!

Amaris gets a visit from her brother

My daughter starts third grade tomorrow. She's been pretty nervous about it all summer. She moved to a new school half way through the year and had a hard time making friends, as well as a less than sweet teacher. She just found out that her new teacher is the "mean" teacher in the school! I'm HOPING that rumor is nothing more than that. But still, she was scared as we went to meet her today. Guess who sits next to my Ami? A boy named Porter. And behind her? A boy named Jackson. Her brother in heaven is named Porter Jackson. I smiled, feeling like he was letting her know he'll be watching out for her this year, maybe hanging with her when she's lonely. Ami feels much better about starting school tomorrow now! She's convinced her teacher is 99% nice and she's got her backpack ready and her clothes laid out!

Mourning Mama Gorilla

Blue found this most amazing story from National Geographic. A first time mother lost her two-week old baby.She wouldn't leave his little body. The photos caught were amazing. They show her grief, which I immediately connected with. But then there are photos of her community coming and sitting around her - at a slight distance, just watching, sitting. They are mourning with her! Wow, what a visual of "mourn with those that mourn." They are beautiful, though sad photos. I hope you get to see these pics before they are gone - they are so amazing.http://news.nationalgeographic.com/news/2011/05/pictures/110526-gorilla-mother-mourns-dead-baby-science-mourning-feel-emotions-animals/

Early Birthday Gift For Jackson

     Hooray! Two days ago we paid off our car! We bought the car the day Porter Jackson was born - just hours before we went to the hospital to deliver. We'd sold our Sonata and felt such a rush to get another vehicle for this exciting third baby. It felt so odd, so cruelly ironic, to be escorted out to that shiny new vehicle when I left the hospital without Jackson. Here we were with a bigger car and a car payment, which we hadn't had in years, but no baby to justify it.
     My mom tried to be positive and say we would need that bigger vehicle soon enough - we would have other babies. Certainly no one expected the road getting there to be much more complicated.
     I've always wished to pay off the car. I thought earlier in the year, wouldn't it be cool to pay it off in September, a way of honoring Jackson's - can you believe it - 3rd birthday? But it just seemed like too much of a stretch financially to get it done. But, Blue got on board with me and his support and fresh ideas led to much faster progress than I expected. And two days ago, with the help of a small but unexpected bonus, we paid off the car! I know it's me projecting my own ideas about money, but I feel like Jackson would be happy for us not to be in debt due to him. I'm so giddy - like a kid at Christmas - to tell him that we are not! Medical bills are gone and so is the car payment. Now if only he could step in and make gas for the car less expensive!

Something to Think About

“Should all prayers be immediately answered … there would be little or no suffering, sorrow, disappointment, or even death, and if these were not, there would also be no joy, success, resurrection, nor eternal life ...”

-Spencer W. Kimball, Faith Precedes the Miracle

Trey at 10 Months

10 months




newborn










5 months

 

10 months

I'm so happy Trey turned 10 months! You know how sometimes we have strange thoughts that we know aren't logical, yet we give credence to them nonetheless? For me it has been getting Trey safely past 9 months. I think because I know two wonderful people who both lost boys to suffocation in their cribs at 9 months. I think of them so often. If it could happen to them it could happen to me. While there is not a whole lot of logic to this, I am nevertheless slightly less worried for my boy than I was even 2 weeks ago. And when he makes his first birthday, I will be ecstatic at hitting this other paranoid milestone!
It's been different, certainly, raising a preemie. A big struggle is his slow weight gain. He's pushing 16 lbs now, which is not on the charts for a 10 month old and about 5th percentile for his adjusted age of 8 1/2 months. Underweight babies don't sleep as long a chunky babies, so I'm pretty ineffective at doing more than the basics!
I think it is mainly to do with him getting RSV around 6 months. That's when he stopped eating as well. Of course, all his energy went to fighting off disease. From then on it's been a fight to keep him healthy. But, I bow to the shrine of probiotics, which I have been giving him for the last month. He has not gotten sick since on them (he was getting ear and sinus infections).  I am hopeful that he will catch up soon enough and that it's nothing more serious. My doctor is ordering some tests just to be sure.
My family is having a ball with this child! We love on him constantly. I'm continuously surprised at the kids' patience when he's crying or needing something at the same time as they are needing something. I'm slightly surprised even at my own better attitude! I promised not to call him names when he was born - sound ridiculous? What parent would call their kid names? I know, I'm the devil, because I have! I remember when my others were little and keeping me up at night, or screaming in my ear, or making me late for some event, etc... I occasionally would let out a frustrated rant to them, knowing they couldn't understand. Or, I'd complain coarsely about them to my mom or some other trusted friend. But no way would I do that now. For one, I am more grown up! For another, I don't dare slap God in the face for my gift. Trey is a special gift, my life-saving gift, and I will NOT complain about the privilege of raising him (well, as best as I can!). This early resolution has affected the mood of our entire home. We are all more loving and happy. I'm so thankful for this experience of raising a baby again.
Where are Jackson and Claire in this mix? I think of them both every single day. There's not a day that goes by that I don't think of them. There are many thoughts I can joggle that don't cut me, and I have learned which memories are still too traumatic to toy with in a normal day. So most days, I have happy thoughts of them. I am glad to be their mother, I am glad to know them, and hopeful to get to know them better in the future. I'm curious about them. I'm slightly obsessed wondering what went wrong in my or my husband and I's genetics... why do some cords not develop right? What can be done to correct this? How can I help expectant mothers and doctors be more aware and careful so less babies die in the future? I really want to get some kind of fundraiser for research going in the near future. And I want to write a book about it too. But, all this has to wait til I am not so tired that getting housework done doesn't take all my concentration (has anyone seen my keys, btw? Or my phone????!!!!).
Several of my friends are due at the end of this month. Most of them have lost babies previous to this pregnancy. I am anxious for them and excited with them. Good luck! I can't wait to see these teeny miracles!!!

Happy Mother's Day!

Happy Mother's Day to you all! There are, to me, no better mothers than those who have given their children back to their Father in Heaven. What a great sacrifice, what a hard road to go down.  I love all the mothers who did it before me, even thousands of years ago, leaving an example for me to try to live up to. I look up to each and every one of you. Thank you for finding a way to go on and be happy, and for sharing your stories that help others, like me. Happy Mother's Day!