Friday, March 5, 2010

Stop this ride, I wanna get off!

So last week I blogged just about every day. This week...not so much. This is due, in large part, to the incredible roller coaster that this week has been, full of extreme highs and lows.

Here is a recap of some of its ups and downs.

On Monday we got a call that an opening for NEXT WEEK came up in the injections class. The woman told me if we couldn't make that one, we would have quite a wait ahead of us. I guess someone either dropped out, or got pregnant on their own. Needless to say, we jumped right on it. We go on Thursday, and if all goes well and my meds arrive on time (our insurance requires that we use a mail order service) than we might cycle as early as next month.-That was an UP!

As some of you know, there is a journalist, Joel Meares, who has been interviewing me on and off for the last six or so months for a story he is writing for Columbia University about online grieving. That story hasn't actually come out yet, but he wrote an opinion piece for the Australian website "The Punch" this week, in which he defended online memorial sites (there has been some controversy over them in Australia, and rightfully so) and mentioned my blog. Being the nothing special girl that I am, I found it to be pretty darn exciting, even though it didn't seem to sway many minds on the topic. You can read that here if you'd like. -Another UP!

This week, like every week, I am missing Peyton. Waves of grief, like those from her early days Why me? Why her? Why us? Why is cancer our cross to bear? Why can't I be normal and make healthy babies? etc. etc. come crashing down sporadically and with little warning. I usually visit Peyton's grave for comfort when those questions come calling, and this week, doing so did not bring healing. It brought the discovery that someone had allowed their dogs, again, to desecrate her grave. This was pretty hard to take. - This was a Down!

That being said, I met with Officer B yesterday and she promised to take more runs through that area in the hopes of catching whoever is doing this, whether it be the same man, or someone else. Officer B also lost her only daughter, so she understands how hard seeing Peyton's grave disrespected is for me. She understands that it is just another example of my inability to protect my child.

During our meeting over coffee yesterday morning, Officer B also mentioned a grieving mothers group that she was going to, and invited me to come. I did, and in the process met some wonderful women. Our situations were different, it was not a baby loss group, but I made some great connections nonetheless. -Up!

Just when I finally felt the earth moving again, and started feeling hopeful about trying for a rainbow baby, I was met with some devastating news that left me rocked to the core. This news left me questioning everything.

I came across the story of a woman who lost not one, but two of her precious babies to the same type of extremely rare Leukemia that Peyton had. She is the only known case of having more than one child be diagnosed, without the siblings being identical twins, and I know that I should find some comfort in that, but she doesn't know how or why her two babies developed this Leukemia, so there is no reassurance in having heard her story.

Seeing how she, like me, lost her first child to this devastating disease, was hard enough. Hearing her tell how she spent a year of healing before building up the the nerve to try again, only to have Leukemia steal another child from her, well, it was too much to take. The tears and deep sense of fear were unstoppable.

Here hubs and I were celebrating our good fortune in having the chance to try IVF, and then, out of left field, this story came along leaving us to question everything.

Should we try? 
Do we have the right to try? 
Is it selfish to try when this risk may still be out there?

This story spit in the face of my sense of hope. I felt myself spinning, lost, unable to navigate back to a place where my confidence in my right to, belief in, or ability that I can have healthy children would return. The burden of having lost my child inexplicably to cancer buys me membership to a club that I want no part of, a club that forces me to worry that other kids could be affected too.  This was a Down! Down! Down!

I know life is unfair, but why? Why does it have to be? Why can't I scream "Hey universe, I have already had my share of shitty days, its my turn to shine. Back off!"

These questions were weighing really heavily on my mind, and then I heard this. It is something from my meeting last night that I'd like to share with you all.

A woman, ten years out from the death of her son, said she hated when people told her "Time heals." She said, "Time doesn't heal, it reveals."

I meditated on this quite a bit, and it brought me back to a post that I read some months ago by Carly.  In it, Carly shared a present day picture of herself with her children. In the post, Carly said that she wished the old her, the grief stricken mother dealing with the death of her child, could have seen the picture of her future, back then. She said that if she had, if she had known that such blessings still awaited her, she would have felt more hope through her suffering.

That, I guess, is what the woman at the meeting meant by "Time Reveals." 

I hope to one day be so fortunate as to have healing reveal itself to me with time. I pray for the day when I hold my rainbow baby(s) in a picture representing my new norm. A norm full of promise. I pray that I can discover who I am in this baby lost world. Who the "new me," is. The one who can never go back to who she was before, but can still feel that her life has been truly blessed despite all of the pain of losing Peyton.

Until then, until I see that snapshot of a better life, a life that came through this storm changed but okay, I will just have to wait. Wait and pray that time for me, too, will reveal healing.


  1. That article was very imformative. I think it's wonderful that you're helping other people with your blog. I've never lost a child so I can't begin to understand what you're going through. Losing my Mom was devistating for me, so I do understand grief. I hope that your healing will be revealed!!

  2. Me too, I hope that time reveals for all of us. I have to constanly remind myself that just becuse this happened to friend A or even if it happened to me twice that that in no way means that its predestined to happen a third time. But that's easier said than done, I still battle these fears daily. I'm so glad that you went to that grief meeting! It sounds like it might be a good place to release all these feelings IRL with other people who've been there. *HUGS*

  3. Kristin - I think this may be what you're looking for. Beautiful post. It was indeed Carly:

  4. I had NO idea that some of that stuff happened on websites/memorial sites!! What a really interesting article and kudos to you for such positive things you are doing with your grief.

    Excited for you getting into the class next week! Definitely an UP!

    I keep meaning to tell you that the little picture of Peyton that is right under your email address just touches me so much every time I look at it. She truly was beautiful.

  5. ((hugs)) hope there are more ups than downs this week. Can't wait to hear about your 1st class.

  6. I love that "time reveals".. I have never heard that..
    I too hope you have more ups to come!! Good luck with your first class, can't wait to read about it!~((hugs))

  7. You write to beautifully Kristin!!!
    It sucks that you such a crappy week. I really pray everyday that you will soon be blessed with your little rainbow(s). I am happy to hear you met and talked to other women, I hope that will help you out in some way.
    Hearing other people's stories is sometimes difficult because it just makes you so aware that none of us are safe from pain and suffering. I was always so naive to think that something so tragic as this could never happen to me. It is hard to not think about it happening again in a future pregnancy. I can relate to that. Unfortunately once you lose a child you can't help it! It is sad that we are no exception to the rule, it is just so cruel.

    I wish I lived closer to you so we can meet up and have dinner or something. I really wish there was something I could do to ease your pain. You are always in my thoughts and prayers my friend. Wishing for better days!

  8. Well said, Kristin. I have never looked at it that way, but time does reveal not heal. I am glad you met up with officer B, she seems to be such an angel. I am sorry for your share of downs, it seems like it rains when it pours. I know hearing that story has caused you to question and doubt everything, but just know I'm thinking of you and praying that everything goes well. Little consolation, but I have to believe it will be okay this time for you. xoxo

  9. Wow - I love that - "time reveals" instead of "time heals". I wish I could answer the whys, and just organize everything into something that made sense for you, and for all of us.
    thinking of you...

  10. Keep hoping, healing. We're here with you!

  11. I am so so sorry you are dealing with the dog poop issue. I agree with you that it appears this person must be malicious considering the poop is plentiful only in Peyton's spot. I'm praying this is resolved very fast for your family. You and Hub are in our prayers.

  12. Kristen I can understand how confused you must feel knowing this other woman's story. I lived in fear of having another baby with a severe disability. They could not rule it out and since they had no definate cause, it was a risk... though a slim one. I'm sure the doctors will tell you the same as they told me... that is is highly unlikely but not impossible. I'm so sorry. I know this caused me many months of angst and fear during my pregnancy.

    I don't think your having IVF is selfish.

    I agree, time reveals, thats interesting. I've not heard that before either. Maybe its right, too. I do feel like my eyes have been peeled....


  13. Thinking of you and hoping this week is easier than last week.

  14. Thanks for a wonderful post. I really like the quote time reveals. I will now look forward with hope to the blessings that await me.

  15. I like what you shared about time revealing...that is very true. I believe there is healing on the journey, too...not that time is the one doing the healing, of course. The missing is never gone...but healing comes.

    That's wonderful that you are being interviewed. I look forward to reading the story.

    I understand what you are feeling about being able to protect your child. And, I'm so sorry that someone would do something so heartless and horrible.

    Praying for you still...

  16. Oh hon... I am happy for the ups and broken with you for the downs... Thinking of you and sending loving thoughts.

  17. So sorry about that idiot and his dog. UGH!!!

    That's a really interesting perspective... if we just knew what the future holds we'd have more hope. I am not sure that is true for me. Maybe on some days it is, but on others .. hmmm how do I explain this? Maybe seeing a future me with a big happy family would make me feel guilty about not grieving, whereas if, as in real life, I make it to that place step by step, bit by bit, I will embrace it when I get there.
    Anyway, I am sure that sounds crazy, but perhaps I am clinging tightly to my grief. Mother's guilt!?
    But in a similar way people will often say to me (almost knowingly altho they haven't been there) "your head must be swimming with the whys, but you have to let them go".
    The truth for me is that I hardly ever ask the whys. The reason is that I know that a million good reasons would never be enough for me and so I don't think I would have the grace to cope with the answers until I'm reunited with my little girl one day in heaven.

    ITO your hearing about the lady who lost two babies to this cancer... I had a similar experience maybe a month after sophia's death... I was reading blogs and came accross the story of a women who lost two babies in succession to placental abruption and it shook me to the core. I wailed that night. For her. For her babies. For me. For my babies. And yet somewhere along the line hope springs eternal and the potential joy outweighs the potential risk.

    Just hoping and praying that twice in a row is not for me and not for you. I wish it never happened to anyone.