The Most Un-Pregnant I've Ever Been Since Being Pregnant

Well guys, we've hit a milestone of sorts.

Today, my Anna-Boo is 8.7 months old. Which means that I've been "un-pregnant" for 8.7 months. Which also means that this is the longest period of time that has gone by since 2010 in which I am not with child.

I found out I was pregnant with Jack in May 2010. After losing him in September, I got pregnant with Emerson 7 months later. When Emerson was 8 months old, I got pregnant with Anna.

It's crazy to think how much of the last 4 years has been spent carrying a baby. It's also crazy for me to think about Sunday. Sunday is February 2nd. February 2nd will always be Jack's day but it's not Jack's day.

For those of you who came to this blog in more recent years, February 2nd was my due date. On February 2nd, 2011, I was supposed to welcome a bouncing baby boy into this world. But he and God had other plans. And now he has two beautiful sisters and two parents who think about him every day.

Still, it's hard to believe Jack would be 3 now. My best friend has a little boy who is almost 3, and sometimes I see little Connor and get sad, thinking about how they'd be best friends, and how I too should have this messy, adorable toddler boy in my house. Even as I type this, I have tears in my eyes. It's been over 3 years since we lost him, and I have two beautiful girls who I wouldn't trade for anything in the world, but the pain is real and will never go away. I will always have a lump in my throat when I think about him, and what he could have been for our family.

I have learned so many lessons about life and love since then, and I know without a doubt I am a better parent to my girls because of the loss we suffered. But February 2nd will always be a day of longing for me. Longing for something that will never come true, but accepting that life here wasn't in God's plan for us or for Jack.

And because I sign every message like this in the same way, just in case he's reading this somehow.... we miss you buddy. Every day.


 

Due Date

I wonder if one day, some day way down the road, that February 2nd will come along, and I won't have that stab of pain in my heart and say to myself "I should have a _ year old today."

Because this is not that year.

Jack would be turning 2 tomorrow. I can't believe I'd have a two year old. Would he have blond hair like Emerson? Would he be into sports? What would his favorite food be? Would he be going through the terrible twos right now? Would he be a happy little boy? What kind of cake would he eat on his birthday?

At least I'll always know that he's a happy little angel, who is hanging out with his best friends up there. I hope they serve birthday cake in Heaven.

Love you little guy.

October 15th

Today is October 15th.

October 15th is also known to 1 in 4 women as Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Day.

It's a topic that so many people are "afraid" to talk about, but it affects so many lives every single day. 

Take some time today to remember all those babies who were born asleep, or whom we carried but never met, or those we have held but could not take home, or the ones who made it home, but didn’t stay. 

In memory of our sweet boy Jack Benjamin, and all lost angels ♥

2 year angel-versary

My sweet angel Jack,

Tomorrow will be 2 years since we said goodbye to you. Two years since I last felt you kick me. Two years since my heart was ripped out of my chest, and I experienced a type of heartbreak that can never, ever be replicated. Two years since my big strong boy became the angel that you were always meant to be.

Since that day two years ago, so many good things have happened to our family. You have a baby sister, who I know would look just like you. We both have new jobs. Both of your aunts got married. We have fantastic friends, and a loving supportive family. Life for us is easy, happy, and fulfilling.

But you're not here, and there will always be a part of me that is missing.

"Jack" is a very common name out there, so every time I hear it, I get that familiar tug at my heartstrings. How badly I wish I could call out the name "Jack" and have my sweet baby boy toddle up to me, look at me with his big blue eyes, and call me Mama. Two years later and I am still wondering why I can't have that.

Tonight I am walking in the March of Dimes Night Moves event with your daddy, little sister, and some of our friends. We made a team in your memory, and I can't believe how coincidental it is that this event would take place this weekend. Last year at the walk, I was pregnant with Emerson, and still praying every day that I would get to take her home. This year for the first time, she will get to play a small but important role in preserving your memory. She's too little to understand, but make no mistake that she will know about her big brother, and how blessed we are to have had both of you in our lives.

Not a day goes by that I don't think of you. Every single day I try to be the person I know you would want me to be. I don't always succeed, but if being a good, kind person means that I could have the chance to see you again someday, I am willing to do anything.

I hope you are having fun up there with your friends - I know of a few angels that you are keeping good company with, and I know you are making them feel welcome. I want to tell you how much I wish you were here, but ultimately I know being an angel is a much more important job.

I cannot thank you enough for looking after our family. Losing you has made me a more cautious, more anxious person, but knowing you are watching out for us truly helps me sleep at night.

I miss you. I love you. I am so proud to be your mom.

Love,

Me

New look, same bad puns

Are your eyes playing tricks on you????

Do things look a little different from where you're sitting???

Don't worry friend, you're not alone...My blog got a fancy new makeover!!!

When I first started blogging, I used it as an outlet for my grief. It was a way to process how I was feeling after losing Jack, and it truly helped me along my journey toward healing.

Then when I became pregnant with Emerson, I used it as a diary to document all of the little things I wanted to remember about my pregnancy. I was so scared, but I didn't want to treat the experience like it wasn't special, just because I had already been pregnant the year before.

And now, I use it as a both an outlet AND a diary. An outlet to share my fears, hopes, and annoyances, but mostly a diary of my everyday life as a wife and mother.

A long time ago, someone told me that I should take all of the posts in my blog and turn them into a book. As a way to help other grieving mothers, as well as other moms who were pregnant with their rainbow babies. But what this blog has evolved into is a snapshot into my life and feelings at any given point.

What is most important to me, though, is that some day my darling girl can look back on all of these posts and learn a little bit more about her mom and who she was at this time in her life. As morbid as this sounds, if I got hit by a bus tomorrow, I'd want Emerson to have some insight into her mother's personality (as kooky as it might be).

So instead of a book, I decided to turn this blog into a digital scrapbook of sorts. A 21st century diary, complete with photos, ad libs, and puns. And since I won't be able to remember every single little detail of Emerson's childhood, I am committed to keeping it as up to date as possible.

Hope you like it! A big thanks to Jenn for helping me look fancy!!

Foolish?

It's probably foolish of me to think that every rainbow I see is a message directly from Jack. A special message from my boy to his mommy.

 But I don't care.

Angel

So we have this angel hanging in the window of Emerson's room.

And today, with the shades slightly open, the sun behind the angel cast this onto the floor under her bassinet:

A rainbow... Of course. How perfect. My angel baby and my rainbow baby, the best things in my life.

Alternate Reality

Today is February 2.

In another reality, Jack would have turned 1 today.

I would have had a one year old baby boy at home. We probably would have had a cute birthday party for him this weekend. Our friends and family would have been huddled in our house, watching him smash cake in his face. We would have had to open his presents for him, because his fine motor skills wouldn't have been up for the challenge quite yet. We would have gotten him some ridiculous gift like a Power Wheels car or a giant rocking horse.

But instead, today, my mom is coming down to visit. It's been so nice here this week, so we'll take Emerson to the outdoor mall and go shopping, grab lunch, and watch her giggle and squirm around.

Days like today make me miss that little guy so much. I love his baby sister, but we are not always granted the reality we desire most, which would be to have both of babies right here, right now.

Miss you angel baby.

"Is this your first??"

While shopping yesterday (yes, all me & Em do is shop... well window shop that is), I was stopped by no less than 5 people who wanted to take a peek at my beautiful new baby.

Of course I didn't mind... I love showing off my gorgeous daughter (but uh, please don't touch her or I will karate chop your @$$).

I was also asked no less than 5 times "Is this your first baby?"

Oy.

From the moment I started showing, I've been asked this question. It's a harmless question that people ask out of curiosity, but I absolutely HATE being asked.

No. Sweet baby E is not our first. Jack Benjamin is, was, and will always be our first baby.

But how do you possibly explain your entire story to a total stranger?? They can't possibly know the impact he made on our lives in a 2 minute conversation.

Jon and I discussed that, unless someone knew our history, we would respond with "Yes" when asked this question. It's just easier that way. No need to make people uncomfortable, and no need to explain our situation to total strangers. Still, part of me dies inside when I say "Yes." It's like I'm not acknowledging my son, and that makes me really sad.

The worst was when we were in the hospital delivering Emerson. Every nurse asked this question, and I wanted to tell them the truth. For me, we had come full circle... the last time we were in the hospital, we lost our baby. This time, we were going to get to take our baby home, and I wanted to celebrate that. I also wanted them to know why I was an absolute nervous wreck, panicked that something was going to go wrong. When you go through a loss, your anxiety levels multiply in a way others just can't understand.

But we ended up not saying anything, except to the one nurse who was with us the entire time. She was there during my entire labor, and I wanted to tell her about my little boy. Emerson has a brother, and I wanted to talk about him. She was very sympathetic and sweet, and I'm glad I said something.

In a way, Emerson is our first; She's our first take-home baby. And I guess it's okay to just say "Yes" most of the time for that reason alone. Even though the stranger in Macy's may not know about Jack, we do, our family & friends do, and Emerson will. And that matters more than anything.

Why do bad things happen to good people??

I just spent several hours with a good friend who, sadly, now knows the same kind of all-consuming sadness that I once experienced.

My sweet, beautiful friend and her husband said goodbye to their baby boy in December, halfway through her pregnancy.

When I heard the news, I couldn't help but cry. And cry. We were heartbroken.

I remember saying a prayer after we lost Jack that no one I knew would ever have to experience the kind of hell we had to go through. It's just not fair. Saying goodbye to your child is the absolute worst thing that anyone could ever do. You feel helpless, and nothing anyone can do or say will make you feel better.

And why them?? These two were so happy and thrilled to be parents, and their excitement was so wonderful to see. They deserved to have a happy, healthy baby more than anyone I know.

All I wanted to do today is tell her that everything was going to be okay, but that is exactly the kind of advice I hated hearing back then. I didn't feel "okay" and I truly felt like I would never feel "okay" again. How could I ever feel normal when every single thought I had involved Jack and the life he would never get to have?? It's a pain I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, let alone someone I love and care about.

However, holding our sweet, healthy baby girl reminds me that in time my friend will actually be "okay." The joy I feel today is joy that I never knew existed, never knew possible. I was in a dark place last year, and I know she'll be in a dark place for awhile too. I know all too well that time is the only thing that will heal them, just as it was the only thing that healed us. And I know they will be blessed with a beautiful rainbow baby when the time is right for them.

After she left, I was listening to iTunes, and this song came on. I haven't heard it in ages, but these lyrics seemed so fitting:

In my dreams I'll always see you soar above the sky

In my heart there'll always be a place for you, for all my life

I'll keep a part of you with me, and everywhere I am, there'll you be.



Rest in peace sweet baby Joey. I know you and Jack are already best friends up there.


<3 <3 <3

One year ago today

Dear Jack,

I just cannot believe it's been a year since we said goodbye.

I remember every single moment of our last day together. I truly believed that I would never be "okay" again. I could not see a future without you in it. I did not think I could survive with such a broken heart. I had never wanted anything more than to be your mommy. The pain was so intense, and I just could not see how I could ever be "me" again, because I was a happy person before and how could I ever be happy again without you here?

This has been the fastest year of my life. So much has happened in the last 365 days, but in many ways, I feel like we lost you just yesterday. I think because the memory of you is still so vivid. I will never forget the 21 weeks we had with you, and I will treasure the memories we made as a family, though there are not as many of them as I would have hoped.

It's hard for me to be too sad today, when your baby sister is kicking up a storm in my belly, making me smile with every move she makes. Since I know you played a part in sending her here, I wanted to say thank you... Thank you for allowing us to care for another baby as much as we care for you.

To my angel baby boy - thank you for making me a better person and a better mommy. We miss you buddy.

Love,

Me

I Just Haven't Met You Yet

I've heard this song by Michael Buble almost once per day over the last two weeks. It came out a long time ago, but I don't think it's a coincidence that it's been playing non-stop on my radio and on Pandora.......

After all, it was our song for Jack. And we're approaching the one-year mark since we lost him.When it comes to my son, I don't believe in coincidences... I believe in signs.

When we were pregnant last year, we thought the lyrics of this song were so fitting. Words like:

"I promise you kid, I'll give so much more than I get... I just haven't met you yet."

I'll never forget the first time I heard this song after we lost him. We were in Staples, buying ink cartridges. The familiar song starts... and I sobbed. And sobbed. In the middle of store. Jon hugged me and didn't let go until the tears dried up. It was like a dagger to the heart.

Even after we found out about baby girl, I would purposely skip over this song if it came on the radio, because it was still too painful to listen to. But now, I don't know... it's becoming somewhat happy again.

I still feel sad when I think about Jack, but I just know that he had a hand in sending his little sister here to be with us. And when I listen to the words now, they take on a whole new meaning:

"I might have to wait, I'll never give up. 
I guess it's half timing, and the other half's luck
Wherever you are, whenever it's right
You'll come out of nowhere and into my life"

We haven't met this little girl yet, but because of the joy she brings in our lives, and because of the memory of her brother, I couldn't imagine loving anyone more. Jack made us better parents in the short time he was with us. I am so ready to meet her, but I can wait a little longer until she's ready. I'm just happy that she's here.

What a difference a year makes

May 27, 2010.

Exactly one year ago today.... I found out I was going to be a mommy. I can't believe it's been an entire year. But at the same time, I feel like I've lived a lifetime since then.

On that beautiful sunny day, I had no way of knowing how things would turn out. I just remember feeling so happy, shocked, elated, nervous, and ready to bring the greatest blessing into our lives.

I thought my life was going one way, but God had different plans for me. So now we just get to see what happens with this new hand we've been dealt. However, I have no doubt that this path is the right one for me.

It's Memorial Day weekend, and with this holiday brings the promise of summer! I love the sun, sand, lemonade, swimming, beach balls, the smell of sunblock, and everything that goes along with the season. Instead of being sad and thinking about what might have been,  I am choosing to focus on the happy and exciting times that lie ahead of us, while always remembering the amazing gift we were given one year ago.

Happy Summer everybody!

Celebration and confusion

I have a pretty big week coming up....

Sunday, May 8: Mother's Day
Monday, May 9:  Our 2-year anniversary
Tuesday, May 10: My 27th birthday

I love to cram all major events together. It's easier that way :)

As you may have seen in some previous posts, I look forward to my birthday every year. This year is no exception. The day has been planned, and I must say, it's going to be one for the books.

Before my birthday, though, we have to get through Mother's Day. This is the day that confuses me. Am I allowed to celebrate it?? Jon says yes, of course, you are a mother. And I know that. We even have a sweet little piece of paper which says I am Jack's mother, and Jon is Jack's father. That should be proof enough right?

But on Sunday, I won't have a baby here in my arms. So am I technically allowed to celebrate this holiday? Part of me feels like I haven't fully earned my mommy medal yet. I have a lot of badges, but no medal.

I think celebrating Mother's Day for me this year will mean celebrating the time that I did get to spend with Jack, and not focusing on the time that I won't have. We have a fun and exciting week coming up, and I know he wants his "mommy" to be happy. Maybe that's why all of these happy days happen to collide.. as a way to soften the sadness that might come with these tough milestones.

Because for every Mother's Day that happens from here on out, I will always be sad when thinking about my first child who is not here with us. But then I'll have a wedding anniversary, which will remind me of my wonderful marriage to an amazing husband and father. And then I'll get to celebrate my birthday, and realize how lucky I am to still be alive and healthy.

Plus, there will be birthday cake. How can I not smile when there's birthday cake involved??

A March for Babies.... and a Little Bit of Rain

Yesterday we participated in the March of Dimes-March for Babies walk.

This is an amazing organization which raises money to supports programs to help moms have healthy, full-term pregnancies. They also fund research to find answers to the problems that threaten babies born too soon or who never get to come home. This was our first walk in honor of our son Jack, and I can say without a doubt that this will be a tradition I will continue every year.

Yesterday was such a mix of emotions. I was so touched, honored, and saddened to be there. Sad, of course, that Jack wasn't there with us, but happy knowing he was there in spirit. It was hard not to cry with every step I took, but I had some great people who helped me through it. It was also sad to see how many other lives have been affected by the loss of a baby. Seeing all of the memorial t-shirts, pictures, and signs reminded me that I am not the only person in this world who has lost a child, and sadly I won't be the last.

The forecast called for thunderstorms, so I was pretty sure we would get soaked. Thankfully, the weather held out, and it was actually perfect walking weather; warm, but not hot. Bright, but not ultra-bright.

And as we started the last mile, wouldn't you know it... a little bit of rain fell from the sky. Not too much, but just enough to remind me that the memory of my son is still very much alive, and I know he will never be forgotten. From the bottom of my heart, THANK YOU to everyone for their support, contributions, and thoughts yesterday.

<3 Audra

Chapters in our lives

"There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens"
~Ecclesiastes 3:1

I have completely given up on trying to understand life. Honestly. Sometimes it just doesn't make sense. But this Bible passage... for some reason it has really struck a nerve with me. I've been thinking this week about people, places, and things that were in my life at some point, but now are not.

For example, since losing Jack, I have completely stopped communicating with a few people that I once considered good friends. I have no idea why it happened, it just... did. I was in such a horrible place back in September, but there were some amazing people who helped me crawl out of my intense grief. And then there were others who tried once or twice to contact me, and when I didn't respond back quickly with my usual upbeat enthusiasm they just... abandoned me. I wasn't ready to speak right away, but I was ready eventually. I was waiting... and nothing. Instead, they gave up on trying to reach out to me or just ignored me altogether.

At that time, I was in a place where I couldn't be strong. I needed my friends to be strong for me - I couldn't make the first, second, or even third move toward normalcy... I needed them to do it. When they didn't, it made me feel as though I was only useful to those people before my world was shattered, and once it was, I no longer had a place in their happy and uncomplicated lives. It made me feel as though our friendship was superficial, when I had always thought it was real.

My wise friend Brendan told me he truly believes that at any given point, people are in your lives for a particular reason. Not every person you meet is supposed to be your best friend forever. Some people serve a purpose for a small portion of your life, and you'll never forget them. But they are only a portion of one or two chapters in the book of your life, and even if that character was really interesting and fun, they aren't as integral to the story as others. In my mind, what's done is done. That chapter is over.

The Audra that I see today is a completely different person than the Audra I was at this time last year. I am SO lucky to have people in my life today who have embraced both versions. I wish I could still be that naive girl from back then....  but I'm not. Way too much has changed, and it's impossible to go back. I will never be the same, and I know that. But I have a whole lot of people who love me anyway, and those characters are sticking around for a long, long time.

Smiling, but we're close to tears

6 months ago today.... I thought my life was over. That was the day we said goodbye to our son, Jack. I can still remember every single twinge of pain and sadness from that day. It was the worst day of my life.

Never before has my heart been broken in such a gut-wrenching way. It's a pain that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. And it's certainly not something I should be expected to just "get over."

I've been doing so good lately. I miss Jack every day, but there are alot of happy things in my life. And then last night this song came on the radio... and without warning, I burst into tears.



This song has absolutely nothing to do with losing a baby. That's the funny thing about grief. It comes and goes, and you never know when it will strike. The lyric that got to me was "Trying to make it work, but man these times are hard." Welcome to my life. I'm fine, I'm good, I'm great, I'm fantastic and then BOOM. I remember that my baby was taken away from me, and I just lose it.

Luckily, my amazing husband was home to intercept me and like always, he was able to soothe the pain. Still, I have long ago accepted that sometimes..... I just need to cry. I miss my little boy.

Oh, Brother

Sometimes it's hard to understand how the loss of your baby can and will affect other people. I assume that no one in the world could ever miss and love Jack as much as we do. We are his parents, and there is a small hole in our lives because Jack is not here with us. I don't expect anyone to feel even a thimble-sized amount of grief that compares to ours when they think about Jack, because they didn't know him like we knew him. I've assumed that our grief was ours to bear, and ours alone. After all, none of our friends or family got to meet him. I don't expect anyone to feel sorry for us, and I certainly don't expect anyone to miss Jack in the way we do.

I was wrong.

Today, I had lunch with my brother for the first time in awhile. We live in the same city, but he's always away on business and off being important somewhere. So I was excited that we finally found a time to get together. We met at our favorite restaurant, and I immediately launched into a story about whatever trivial things were bothering me today. About 10 minutes into our lunch, my brother asked if I'd like to see his new tattoo he'd just gotten. Sure, I said. This is what he showed me:

J.B. Jack Benjamin. My brother got a tattoo for his nephew Jack who was gone too soon. The look on his face was priceless, and I will never forget it. It was an expression that was mixed with pride, excitement, and hesitation. I could tell he was so happy that he did it, but also worried that I wouldn't like it or think it was an okay thing to do.

Tears are welling in my eyes as I type this, because I can't describe how touched I am by what he did. I guess I just didn't understand how Jack's death has affected my family, and I LOVE the way that my brother has chosen to honor him. In his own way, my brother has shown me the mark that my son has made on his life, and shows me that he won't be forgotten.

It's perfect.

30DBC: Day 30

Day 30: A picture

I've made it to the end of my 30 Day Blog Challenge. If you've made it this long, God bless you.

The last 30 days have been a roller coaster of emotions. I've faced my most difficult struggle this year: getting through Jack's due date. It was a hurdle that I wasn't sure I could overcome, but I did.

I would be lying if I said that I am finally "okay." I'm fine. I am  happy with almost every aspect of my life, and I know I am a very lucky girl. But I am still sad about what happened to Jack, and you know what?? I have finally accepted that it's okay to be sad. I'm allowed to cry when I need to cry.

But I have not let my grief consume me. The joy that I find in everyday life is what dries my tears and reminds me that the universe really isn't out to get me. A really, really sucky thing happened to our family, but there are many, many other good things that happen to us that do not happen to others.

That said, my picture today is a nod at what started this blog in the first place... rain.

I'm happy. The sun is still shining in my life. But the rain and the memories of Jack will always be there. I think the best way to sum me up right now can be best described by Mr. John Mayer:

"I'm in repair..... I'm not together but I'm getting there...."

30 Day Blog Challenge: Day 19

Day 17: Something you miss.

I think that one is obvious. I will never miss anything or anyone more than I miss Jack.

I guess I also miss the naivete of my youth. When you're little, life is so carefree. You don't have bills, career worries, or personal troubles. Your concerns are eating, sleeping, and trying to decide if you should play inside or outside today. I miss not knowing about all of the bad stuff that happens in the world. I miss not knowing that there are bad people who make bad decisions and who make other people sad. I miss not knowing what it's like to lose someone who means the world to you. And I miss the days when I could eat ice cream three times a day and it didn't matter.

 But although I miss these things, I wouldn't change what I've lived and learned because they are a part of who I am. Since I can't change the past, and I can't change other people, I have to embrace and accept change.

However, I still act like a kid sometimes, so that counts, right??