I got five comments on my last post! Incredible, I didn't know five people regularly read me! Sounds sad doesn't it, some people get thousands, i'm just happy for five!! Thanks for de-lurking all, its nice to know who's out there!
So we're at the last night of our holidays, this time tomorrow, or thereabouts, we'll be back home, in our own beds, in our own shower (hooray for water pressure!!), and back into our old routine, minus the hospital appointments.
Its been a month since Ariana graced us with her presence "on the outside".
Also, tragically, It's been a year since precious Sammy grew his wings and went to heaven. Since that time, his family have endured birthdays, Easter, Mothers & Fathers days, and of Course Sammy's own first birthday, all without their special baby boy. They have also had a precious new baby, a beautiful baby girl named Gracee, who is the spitting image of her big brother, a touching reminder of who they are missing at these special events.
I'm sure, the pain never quite goes away. Even after a year, I know they feel it real, and raw, regularly. Sammy will always be on their minds, as I know Ariana will always be on ours. And while no loss can be compared to anyone elses, I strongly believe that theirs is probably worse, than ours. Because Sammy just went to bed, as a normal, happy 4 month old baby. He went to sleep, and simply never woke up again. Devastating. And totally, one hundred percent unseen, and unexpected. I'm quite certain, THAT would have killed me.
So if you're thinking of, and praying for my family, please think of the Fraser family this weekend as well, as they face the anniversary of One year without one of their very loved, and desperately missed children.
In other news, my ability to avoid sunburn has apparently left me. I'm all lobster-like at the moment, despite slathering on the sunscreen. But I also achieved the unthinkable - what i thought was a tan, which was in fact a bazillion new freckles... (yup, me too Mel!!) What one uses to HIDE freckles i don't know.
We've had a pretty awesome holiday, we've spent a lot of time in the pool, went to the beach a couple of times (but sand is icky), and spent WAY more money than we can afford to, but you only spend it once as my dad keeps saying!! We needed, and deserved this break, and we've had a brilliant time. We've had family come up and spend some time with us, we've had our best friends up to stay the night and drink up with us, our other best friends and their kids just walked out the door, and what a ball we had with them, despite the fact that they bought the terrible weather up with them lol.
The new year started kind of rocky for us. But today, is the 30th January. Tomorrow, on the last day of the month, we'll head home and start new on Monday. The first month of the year might have sucked. But we're determined to make sure that the rest of it is better, starting on the 1st of Feb 2010, with new and old friends, and family.
Happy New Year everyone. I know I'm late (by your standards) but ours is just starting. xo
Saturday, January 30, 2010
Thursday, January 28, 2010
I can't believe
the things people will say and do.
A few months ago, when I first found out I was pregnant with Ariana, I joined a birth club on an online forum, for March 2010. The ladies on the board were amazing to me, right from when we found out Ariana was sick, they were supportive, loving, kind and just there when i needed to vent. It helped keep me sane, and I really, Really appreciated each and every single one of them. I'm still a member of the board, I like to check in and offer any advice I have to them, and keep up with how their pregnancies are progressing.
I also liked to "board hop", checking in on the boards immediately before and after mine, February, and April. The ladies on these boards have also been lovely to me, although a lot didn't know about the complications Ariana was facing.
Up until today, I have never heard a bad word from any of them. Until today.
Someone, I'm not sure who, posted on the February board, my birth story, of how Ariana was born early, and then passed away. The point she made at the end of the post was to cherish your time with your children, and to enjoy your pregnancy. Which was fine, I was surprised to see my story there, but honoured to see women saying how moved they were, and how they were all going to be more positive. I like that my story has touched them.
And then today, I saw this post on the Thread : "why would you post something like that onto the February notice board. I'm sure a lot of people are feeling very anxious about giving birth, and all the things that can possibly go wrong. Let's keep it to happy stories".
I saw red. I probably should have ignored the stupidity, but instead I fired back a response, something to the tune on "So sorry my dead baby upsets YOU", or something equally mature.
But seriously? She existed. She was born alive, my baby girl. And she went to heaven. I should ignore it, but honestly, it devastates me, that less than a month after she's gone, and already I'm faced with this attitude.
God I hope this will get easier, but if its already getting harder, how can it?
A few months ago, when I first found out I was pregnant with Ariana, I joined a birth club on an online forum, for March 2010. The ladies on the board were amazing to me, right from when we found out Ariana was sick, they were supportive, loving, kind and just there when i needed to vent. It helped keep me sane, and I really, Really appreciated each and every single one of them. I'm still a member of the board, I like to check in and offer any advice I have to them, and keep up with how their pregnancies are progressing.
I also liked to "board hop", checking in on the boards immediately before and after mine, February, and April. The ladies on these boards have also been lovely to me, although a lot didn't know about the complications Ariana was facing.
Up until today, I have never heard a bad word from any of them. Until today.
Someone, I'm not sure who, posted on the February board, my birth story, of how Ariana was born early, and then passed away. The point she made at the end of the post was to cherish your time with your children, and to enjoy your pregnancy. Which was fine, I was surprised to see my story there, but honoured to see women saying how moved they were, and how they were all going to be more positive. I like that my story has touched them.
And then today, I saw this post on the Thread : "why would you post something like that onto the February notice board. I'm sure a lot of people are feeling very anxious about giving birth, and all the things that can possibly go wrong. Let's keep it to happy stories".
I saw red. I probably should have ignored the stupidity, but instead I fired back a response, something to the tune on "So sorry my dead baby upsets YOU", or something equally mature.
But seriously? She existed. She was born alive, my baby girl. And she went to heaven. I should ignore it, but honestly, it devastates me, that less than a month after she's gone, and already I'm faced with this attitude.
God I hope this will get easier, but if its already getting harder, how can it?
Ariana,
My dear, sweet baby.
Last time I wrote to you, I was still calling you Bean. Last time I wrote to you, I was still thinking you were likely a boy baby, and I was thinking that maybe, just maybe you could fight whatever was making you so sick. We'd had so many scans of you, looked into your private world so many times, that I could see, usually before the sonographer if it was going to go well, or not. I could pick out the tiny hole in your heart, I could see if the fluid was worse or better and I could tell if your anemia was within normal limits just by looking at the pulse on the screen, without the numerical analysis even being applied.
Effectively, last time I wrote to you, I was praying and believing that you'd make it. That you'd come home with us, after some hospital time and complete our family. I was praying more for Matt and Lucy, I think, that this might be possible because I never in a million years, thought i could stand to see them so upset, and hurt if you didn't.
Ariana, It's amazing how things can change in an instant. I still am slightly shocked at how quickly you were born, at how a routine check to make sure you were moving and reacting properly caused a flurry of activity, phone calls, forms to sign and then ultimately, the moment of your birth, where you were taken from my body, leaving me empty, and terrified that I'd never see you again.
Deep down, we all knew you were one very sick, little princess. I was so excited when they told me you weighed in at 1.2 kilos. That seemed amazing to me! Our scans had you sitting at 850 grams just two days earlier, we were hoping to wait until you weighed over 1 kilo before we delivered you - to give you the best possible chance we could. But then they found the fluid, sweetheart it was everywhere, under your skin, in your tummy, around your head.. you were so swollen. We quickly realised you did only weigh around 850 grams, that the rest was the fluid you were retaining. We were stunned, never on a single scan did you show any signs of skin oedema. Ever. We'd seen you just two days earlier, your amniotic fluid levels were non existent, which was scary but you were looking strong and healthy! There was no sign of fluid in your tummy, and the anemia was stable. Everything looked great, except for the AFI.
If we had known then, that it was your kidney function that caused it, I would have begged for a C-section immediately.I would have tied myself to the bed in the operating room, I swear princess, I would have done anything and everything to get you out, to start treatment, to try and save you.
But we didn't know. The doctor didn't tell us. He said to wait and watch. And we trusted him, like always, we trusted what he was telling us was the truth, and that he knew. There were never any guarantees with you baby girl, every single day with you was a blessing, an answered prayer, but that he probably knew, and thought it not as important as it turned out to be - well mummy has trouble with that sometimes.
Your Daddy and I are trying Ariana, we're trying so hard to be happy, to keep life moving onwards, to stay open and honest with each other about how we're feeling, and if we're struggling. But sweetheart, having had you and then lost you, things just feel strange. We'll never forget you, but some days its almost like you were never here. It seems terrible to say, and I hate to admit it, but it happens. The three of us have been a three for so long, that not having a fourth member of our family some days just seems normal. It's never going to be normal that you died. And I'll always miss you, miss the opportunities, the hopes for the future. Other days, you're all I can think about. I spend hours looking at your photos, wishing that you were still here, even for just one more minute so I could hold you, and tell you that I love you so deeply that I don't know what to do with the emotions when you aren't here to feel them.
I feel like we, you and I, cheated Lucy. Princess, I could never blame you for being sick. And I could never blame you for being in heaven, where you so clearly are meant to be. But Lucy misses you so desperately. She wanted a baby for so long. For so many months we were trying to have a baby, then for so many more we were trying to keep you. To have shipped her off to various family members, extra days at childcare and hospital appointments, only to come home empty handed, without the baby that we all cherished and dreamed of, seems cruel. She knows your in heaven. But she's still so proud of you. She tells old ladies that she's a big sister. And of course she is, she always will be, but you, her little sister are in heaven. It feels empty to be a big sister without a little sister to cuddle, to love and guide.
Baby girl, your death certificate came last week. We didn't expect it to come so soon, especially since we don't even have a copy of your birth certificate yet. Its all backwards, and It's a little hard to handle. We thought that the autopsy results would have to be back, before we got the death certificate. Apparently, a death certificate just shows what the doctors decide is wrong with you. Yours says that you died of high potassium levels due to acute renal failure, resulting in Hydrops and a massive brain bleed. My hands were shaking as i opened the envelope - I wasn't expecting the death certificate to come, but somehow I knew what it was. And I was scared of what it might say.
It's no secret Ariana, that we let you go. That your Daddy and I asked them to turn off the ventilator, to let you relax and go peacefully to heaven. We honestly believe that we did the right thing by you, but just lately, I've been wondering.
Did we do the right thing by God? Maybe you can ask him for us, and maybe you can ask him to let us know. Because in the past month I've been re-hashing everything in my head over and over, looking at symptoms online, trying to figure out what happened, what went so wrong, and why you had to leave us. You mummy is the kind of person who has to have all the information, all the details. So this waiting, and not knowing is quite frustrating.
Your daddy and i both really want to know what happened to you. We want to know for selfish reasons, we want to know why our baby died, what the underlying cause was. But not just because we want to know why you left. But because, as soon as we know, we want to have another baby.
You can't, and you won't ever be replaced. Sweetheart, I did every single thing I could think of to help you. Tablets, resting, excessive amounts of water. I stopped working and stayed home, I avoided cleaning products, I rested on my left side. I ate excessively to try and help you get bigger. You name it, I tried it. But nothing worked. Nothing saved you. I couldn't save you. I have to come to terms with what happened to you, I have to come to terms with being a family of Four, and then a family of three again.
We want another baby. You'll always be our second child. But we need a baby in our arms. To help us heal, to grow our family. The thought of coming up to your birthday without a baby in my arms is devastating to me. As soon as we're able, we want to try again. We promised you, we would go on, we would live, laugh and be happy. And this is how we can do that. Know we love you, we always will. But even though we love you, we have to move forward and live again. It's not too soon. It's the right time for us. You can't be replaced, but we need to do this for us.
Rest easy sweet princess, and say Hi to your brothers and sister for us. We miss all of you terribly.
Love Mummy.
Last time I wrote to you, I was still calling you Bean. Last time I wrote to you, I was still thinking you were likely a boy baby, and I was thinking that maybe, just maybe you could fight whatever was making you so sick. We'd had so many scans of you, looked into your private world so many times, that I could see, usually before the sonographer if it was going to go well, or not. I could pick out the tiny hole in your heart, I could see if the fluid was worse or better and I could tell if your anemia was within normal limits just by looking at the pulse on the screen, without the numerical analysis even being applied.
Effectively, last time I wrote to you, I was praying and believing that you'd make it. That you'd come home with us, after some hospital time and complete our family. I was praying more for Matt and Lucy, I think, that this might be possible because I never in a million years, thought i could stand to see them so upset, and hurt if you didn't.
Ariana, It's amazing how things can change in an instant. I still am slightly shocked at how quickly you were born, at how a routine check to make sure you were moving and reacting properly caused a flurry of activity, phone calls, forms to sign and then ultimately, the moment of your birth, where you were taken from my body, leaving me empty, and terrified that I'd never see you again.
Deep down, we all knew you were one very sick, little princess. I was so excited when they told me you weighed in at 1.2 kilos. That seemed amazing to me! Our scans had you sitting at 850 grams just two days earlier, we were hoping to wait until you weighed over 1 kilo before we delivered you - to give you the best possible chance we could. But then they found the fluid, sweetheart it was everywhere, under your skin, in your tummy, around your head.. you were so swollen. We quickly realised you did only weigh around 850 grams, that the rest was the fluid you were retaining. We were stunned, never on a single scan did you show any signs of skin oedema. Ever. We'd seen you just two days earlier, your amniotic fluid levels were non existent, which was scary but you were looking strong and healthy! There was no sign of fluid in your tummy, and the anemia was stable. Everything looked great, except for the AFI.
If we had known then, that it was your kidney function that caused it, I would have begged for a C-section immediately.I would have tied myself to the bed in the operating room, I swear princess, I would have done anything and everything to get you out, to start treatment, to try and save you.
But we didn't know. The doctor didn't tell us. He said to wait and watch. And we trusted him, like always, we trusted what he was telling us was the truth, and that he knew. There were never any guarantees with you baby girl, every single day with you was a blessing, an answered prayer, but that he probably knew, and thought it not as important as it turned out to be - well mummy has trouble with that sometimes.
Your Daddy and I are trying Ariana, we're trying so hard to be happy, to keep life moving onwards, to stay open and honest with each other about how we're feeling, and if we're struggling. But sweetheart, having had you and then lost you, things just feel strange. We'll never forget you, but some days its almost like you were never here. It seems terrible to say, and I hate to admit it, but it happens. The three of us have been a three for so long, that not having a fourth member of our family some days just seems normal. It's never going to be normal that you died. And I'll always miss you, miss the opportunities, the hopes for the future. Other days, you're all I can think about. I spend hours looking at your photos, wishing that you were still here, even for just one more minute so I could hold you, and tell you that I love you so deeply that I don't know what to do with the emotions when you aren't here to feel them.
I feel like we, you and I, cheated Lucy. Princess, I could never blame you for being sick. And I could never blame you for being in heaven, where you so clearly are meant to be. But Lucy misses you so desperately. She wanted a baby for so long. For so many months we were trying to have a baby, then for so many more we were trying to keep you. To have shipped her off to various family members, extra days at childcare and hospital appointments, only to come home empty handed, without the baby that we all cherished and dreamed of, seems cruel. She knows your in heaven. But she's still so proud of you. She tells old ladies that she's a big sister. And of course she is, she always will be, but you, her little sister are in heaven. It feels empty to be a big sister without a little sister to cuddle, to love and guide.
Baby girl, your death certificate came last week. We didn't expect it to come so soon, especially since we don't even have a copy of your birth certificate yet. Its all backwards, and It's a little hard to handle. We thought that the autopsy results would have to be back, before we got the death certificate. Apparently, a death certificate just shows what the doctors decide is wrong with you. Yours says that you died of high potassium levels due to acute renal failure, resulting in Hydrops and a massive brain bleed. My hands were shaking as i opened the envelope - I wasn't expecting the death certificate to come, but somehow I knew what it was. And I was scared of what it might say.
It's no secret Ariana, that we let you go. That your Daddy and I asked them to turn off the ventilator, to let you relax and go peacefully to heaven. We honestly believe that we did the right thing by you, but just lately, I've been wondering.
Did we do the right thing by God? Maybe you can ask him for us, and maybe you can ask him to let us know. Because in the past month I've been re-hashing everything in my head over and over, looking at symptoms online, trying to figure out what happened, what went so wrong, and why you had to leave us. You mummy is the kind of person who has to have all the information, all the details. So this waiting, and not knowing is quite frustrating.
Your daddy and i both really want to know what happened to you. We want to know for selfish reasons, we want to know why our baby died, what the underlying cause was. But not just because we want to know why you left. But because, as soon as we know, we want to have another baby.
You can't, and you won't ever be replaced. Sweetheart, I did every single thing I could think of to help you. Tablets, resting, excessive amounts of water. I stopped working and stayed home, I avoided cleaning products, I rested on my left side. I ate excessively to try and help you get bigger. You name it, I tried it. But nothing worked. Nothing saved you. I couldn't save you. I have to come to terms with what happened to you, I have to come to terms with being a family of Four, and then a family of three again.
We want another baby. You'll always be our second child. But we need a baby in our arms. To help us heal, to grow our family. The thought of coming up to your birthday without a baby in my arms is devastating to me. As soon as we're able, we want to try again. We promised you, we would go on, we would live, laugh and be happy. And this is how we can do that. Know we love you, we always will. But even though we love you, we have to move forward and live again. It's not too soon. It's the right time for us. You can't be replaced, but we need to do this for us.
Rest easy sweet princess, and say Hi to your brothers and sister for us. We miss all of you terribly.
Love Mummy.
Monday, January 25, 2010
Dr Google
Last week, Dr Google taught me something. I'm not one to read up on symptoms on Google, I never have been. I always figure that if I'm sick I'll just, you know, go to the doctor. Dr Google is great I'm sure but its not like it can write me a prescription should I need one, and meantime, I'll start thinking I'm dying!
What doctor Google taught me however, was that Ariana's anemia, which could never be explained, was more than likely caused by her Acute Renal failure. Which means, for 11 weeks we were looking at the wrong part of our princess. It also explains why the figures varied so much week by week, why the anemia seemed to abate and the come back, and then go away again.
The last thing it told us though, is that despite everything the doctors did, despite everything we did, and tried to do, She never stood a chance on this earth. You can't live without Kidneys, It's true she was born with two, and they looked normal, but clearly, there was a problem. And not two hours after i learnt this from Doctor Google, Ariana's death Certificate arrived in the mail. The primary cause of death listed was Hyperkalemia secondary to acute renal failure, resulting in Hydrops Fetalis and a Grade Four Intercranial Hemorrhage.
The death certificate arriving shocked me. I had no idea it was coming, I thought we would have to wait for the autopsy results before it would be completed. I was wrong. But fortunately, I had just finished getting acquainted with Dr Google, and already knew what it would say.
And it turns out, I was right. Her Kidney's weren't working for months.
It might seem awful to say, but that's reassuring to me. After all, we chose to let her go, It helps to know, definitively, that it was the right decision.
What doctor Google taught me however, was that Ariana's anemia, which could never be explained, was more than likely caused by her Acute Renal failure. Which means, for 11 weeks we were looking at the wrong part of our princess. It also explains why the figures varied so much week by week, why the anemia seemed to abate and the come back, and then go away again.
The last thing it told us though, is that despite everything the doctors did, despite everything we did, and tried to do, She never stood a chance on this earth. You can't live without Kidneys, It's true she was born with two, and they looked normal, but clearly, there was a problem. And not two hours after i learnt this from Doctor Google, Ariana's death Certificate arrived in the mail. The primary cause of death listed was Hyperkalemia secondary to acute renal failure, resulting in Hydrops Fetalis and a Grade Four Intercranial Hemorrhage.
The death certificate arriving shocked me. I had no idea it was coming, I thought we would have to wait for the autopsy results before it would be completed. I was wrong. But fortunately, I had just finished getting acquainted with Dr Google, and already knew what it would say.
And it turns out, I was right. Her Kidney's weren't working for months.
It might seem awful to say, but that's reassuring to me. After all, we chose to let her go, It helps to know, definitively, that it was the right decision.
Sunday, January 24, 2010
Goodnight Precious Baby
Ariana's Memorial Service
14th January 2010
"11 Weeks too early, 4 blessed days of love, Eternity in heaven, Our gift from God above"
"Sometimes", Said Pooh, "The Smallest things take up the most room in your heart"
After 7 very long months
we're taking a long overdue, much needed holiday. We haven't gone far, only about 45 minutes away from home (seeing as technically I'm still on "do nothing you have had a C-section" type activities - better to stay close-ish to home in case things get dramatic), but wow, its making such a difference.
We got here on Friday at about lunch time. Unpacked everything, had some lunch, and hit the pool. Since then we've eaten a lot, slept a lot and spent a lot of time in the pool. Lucy is getting quite the tan despite me practically drowning her in sunscreen. I've managed to avoid sunburn which is a miracle, but we'll see how I'm looking on the 7th day.
My C-section scar is healing up nicely. All this relaxing is good for me apparently, its completely sealed over, the stitches have pretty much all dissolved and i have no pain whatsoever from it, unless i do something silly like reach too far for something, or if Lucy forgets and jumps on me. Which she's done the sum total of once so far.
Considering I'm only 3 weeks into my "healing" time, I feel pretty fantastic. My milk has finally dried up (thank god for that!), I'm pain free on all aspects (apart from an ingrown toenail but i doubt that could be considered a surgery related issue!), and have found spending time in the pool fantastic. I wasn't allowed to swim when i was pregnant, so it's been lovely to get into the pool and just relax. I'm being very careful, Matt has Lucy most of the time in the water, I'm worried about hurting myself, and possibly dropping her, and since she swims like a stone, its best for him to take her. Plus she likes jumping in and again, I'm not quite ready for the responsibility of catching her!
This few days away has been the best thing for us. We're missing friends and family, but we needed the break. Mum and Dad took us out to dinner last night which was nice, and we have friends coming up to stay the night tomorrow night, at which point i suspect we'll be having a "few" drinks while the kidlets sleep. Otherwise its just us, and whatever we feel like doing. Tomorrow, we might go bowling (well Matt & Lucy will, I'll be on the sidelines - balls too heavy to lift!), and probably hit the beach again, if its not too hot.
Meantime, I'm going to get another Rum, Sit out on the veranda and enjoy the cool night air with my sexy husband. I do love him to death, and I think I should go and remind him!
We got here on Friday at about lunch time. Unpacked everything, had some lunch, and hit the pool. Since then we've eaten a lot, slept a lot and spent a lot of time in the pool. Lucy is getting quite the tan despite me practically drowning her in sunscreen. I've managed to avoid sunburn which is a miracle, but we'll see how I'm looking on the 7th day.
My C-section scar is healing up nicely. All this relaxing is good for me apparently, its completely sealed over, the stitches have pretty much all dissolved and i have no pain whatsoever from it, unless i do something silly like reach too far for something, or if Lucy forgets and jumps on me. Which she's done the sum total of once so far.
Considering I'm only 3 weeks into my "healing" time, I feel pretty fantastic. My milk has finally dried up (thank god for that!), I'm pain free on all aspects (apart from an ingrown toenail but i doubt that could be considered a surgery related issue!), and have found spending time in the pool fantastic. I wasn't allowed to swim when i was pregnant, so it's been lovely to get into the pool and just relax. I'm being very careful, Matt has Lucy most of the time in the water, I'm worried about hurting myself, and possibly dropping her, and since she swims like a stone, its best for him to take her. Plus she likes jumping in and again, I'm not quite ready for the responsibility of catching her!
This few days away has been the best thing for us. We're missing friends and family, but we needed the break. Mum and Dad took us out to dinner last night which was nice, and we have friends coming up to stay the night tomorrow night, at which point i suspect we'll be having a "few" drinks while the kidlets sleep. Otherwise its just us, and whatever we feel like doing. Tomorrow, we might go bowling (well Matt & Lucy will, I'll be on the sidelines - balls too heavy to lift!), and probably hit the beach again, if its not too hot.
Meantime, I'm going to get another Rum, Sit out on the veranda and enjoy the cool night air with my sexy husband. I do love him to death, and I think I should go and remind him!
Monday, January 18, 2010
You never know what you have
until its gone.
Baby girl, God how I miss you today.
I really, really need a hug. x
Baby girl, God how I miss you today.
I really, really need a hug. x
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