A Community Of Good

Last November I was in a pretty low place. We had just made it through the first anniversary of Peyton's birth and death, and were facing another tough round of Holidays before us. Hubs and I had been trying without success for months to conceive, and my doctor was still giving me the "you are grieving too hard to get pregnant" runaround. 


Being surrounded by so much loss had left me at a loss.


I was desperate for something good to come out of this. 
Out of any of it.
Something good to come out of all Peyton had suffered through and endured.
Something good to come out of all that we had lost as a family.


It is from that desperation that Doing Good In Her Name was born with these words:

"I feel such a strong desire to honor her, to have her name be synonymous with something other than the sadness and the grief.  This idea, well,  I like to think of it is her way of asking us to help out the little friends she has here... the ones who are still fighting the good fight."

This past weekend marked one year since we set Doing Good In Her Name into motion. At the time, we never could have foreseen all that it would become. We had created a basic website (thank goodness Franchesca has since come through to beautify it for us) purchased a few rubbermaid tubs to house any goodies that might come in, and waited - not really sure what, if anything, would arrive. I remember telling hubs that if we could just fill those bins once, I would feel like we had made some sort of a difference. 


What followed has been nothing short of a miracle - an outpouring of generosity, primarily from this community, like I never could have imagined. Fellow bloggers and readers began sending package after package to our P.O. Box to help us help families with critically ill infants being treated at the hospital where our Peyton spent her entire life. Those tubs, that we had once hoped to fill, have been filled and filled and filled several times over.


Peyton, in her own special little way, had given us this idea, and in spreading the goodwill and donations around to other families with children in the NICU, it was like spreading a bit of her love, and the love of this community, and there are no words for what that has meant to me. 


I rarely, if ever, post about it DGIHN here because this is my outlet, the place for my grief. This is where I come, to cry and to celebrate, to share and be heard, to grieve and to honor. That being said, your outpouring of love has been so immense that I feel it deserves recognition, so that's why I am writing this post, to honor you, the members of this community, who have come through in helping this initiative grow.


So many of the amazing readers of this blog have come through with donations over the course of the year. I don't feel comfortable in listing those names here individually because I have not gained permission, and I know that some of you who read here are on your own loss or infertility journeys and do so in confidence and might not want your name connected with this site. I also assumed that anyone who wrote that they know me from this blog, but didn't include their own blog site in their cards, might want their privacy protected. That being said, every donor's name is listed on the front page of the Doing Good In Her Name website, and should be celebrated.


And then there are my fellow ALI bloggers who have sent so many beautiful and caring gifts to assist other families with critically ill babies. Since you share openly in this community, I feel comfortable posting your links. Thank you so much ladies (and gentlemen) your generosity amazes me!


Catherine W
Salma
Margaret
Angie
Jenni
Jeannette
Bobbie
Holly
Paige
Lisette
Susan and Jeff
Sally
Malory
Sarita
Jill
Jane
Marissa Finn


And this is what that generosity has turned into - so much support for NICU families over the course of this past year... AMAZING!


Cash: $1890 -Gift Cards: 12- Infant Clothing: 555-Infant Shoes/Socks/Accessories:146 Bibs: 50 - Hats: 124 - Bottles: 102 - Bottle Accessories: 368 - Cans of Formula -15 Pacifiers: 89 - Pacifier Clips: 3  Infant Rattles/Teethers: 51 - Books: 116 - CD's:41 - DVD's: 7 - Posters: 1 - Toys: 32 Mobiles/Crib Toys: 6 - Blankets: 61 - Hooded Towels: 4- Baby Washcloths: 16 - Crib Sheets: 7 Tummy Time Mats: 1 - Diapers: 240 - Diaper Baggies/Accessories: 101 - Other Room Items: 6 - Digital Photo Keychains: 2 - Prayer Squares/Items of Encouragement for Families: 40 - Rubber Interlocking Foam Tiles: 1


So, from the bottom of my heart, to all those who have helped us honor Peyton's memory through supporting  Doing Good In Her Name, whether it be through donations, prayers, or just helping to spread the word - THANK YOU!


**If you have donated and don't see your link listed above, or you don't have a link but donated and would like your name listed here, PLEASE let me know so I can fix it :) 


Also, anyone who wishes to follow DGIHN's blog, please do so by clicking the DGIHN blog here. When we updated the site, our google followers were attached to the homepage and for some reason got lost.

Walking The Line

Thank you so much to all who reached out with support on the 2nd as we dealt with the anniversary of Peyton's passing. The weekend was a hard one for me, mostly because I couldn't get out to the cemetery and be with her, and thinking of my little baby laying neglected up on that hill since her birthday a month ago just breaks my heart. I learned earlier this week though of a visit some friends had made, unbeknownst to me, to leave fresh flowers on her stone, and thinking of them taking the time to honor her that way really did my heart some good.

The weekend itself was full of ups and downs. There were moments where I felt fine, laughing and getting along, and then others where grief hit me like a ton of bricks and the loss of her felt so new, and raw, and permanent, that I struggled for my breath the way I did last year, and the year before. I am coming to terms with the fact that the Fall will always feel this way for me.

At one point on Sunday I went back to the blog that my sister had authored to keep friends and family informed during Peyton's life (and at the news of her death), and re-read the comments that had been left there for us. They were desperate and encouraging, hopeful and then grief stricken. After that I went to the funeral home's site and re-read the messages from there as well. I don't know why I did that to myself, it was torture reading words left for a poor couple upon hearing the news that they had lost their baby, and knowing that poor couple was us made it even harder to take. I can't explain why I put myself through that, I just felt compelled to do it, and as I read the sympathies expressed there by family, friends, and strangers alike, I couldn't help but to feel sorry for her, and for us, and to just feel so robbed, robbed, robbed. 


I guess there is a reason I have let those messages go unopened for the better part of two years. 

Sitting in bed, reading and crying (hubs was out back doing some construction) I started feeling guilty for my grief, that in some way it was doing a disservice to the joy I feel over my little snowflakes. It's a complicated feeling, and hard to explain, but I find myself struggling for footing in this balancing act between expectant mother and grieving mother. 

I am hopeful - I am heartbroken.

I am overjoyed- I am full of sorrow.

I am planning for a future of what ifs - I am mourning for a life that never can be.

I rubbed my belly, and apologized to the snowflakes for whatever they might be feeling of my tears, and told them about Peyton, their big sister who they will never meet in this life. I explained that though she is not here, and they are,  I still love her as I do them, and that sometimes, even as we  celebrate in joy the blessings of our lives, there will come the time to shed tears for the little girl, our first little girl, who was taken too quickly and too permanently from all of our lives. It might sound crazy (as I often do here) but for some reason I got the feeling that they understood, and once that feeling had washed over me - my tears halted and I was at peace. 

This past Tuesday I went in for a higher level ultrasound of the snowflakes. I was under the impression that it was to be my first anatomy scan, but I was wrong, that comes a few weeks down the road. At this ultrasound they did measurements to make sure the snowflakes are growing appropriately, and got some good looks and pictures of my SCH (uterine blood clot). This exam brought with it lots of good news, and some not so great news. 

The good news is that both of my little snowflakes are growing and growing and growing! The average baby at 17 weeks is 5 oz, and despite the fact that I have struggled to gain weight in this pregnancy because of unrelenting morning sickness, pregnancy nose, and nauseating food aversions, I am happy to report that baby A is weighing in at a whopping 9 oz! while baby B is just about where (she) should be at 7 oz. 

All of the measurements the ultrasound tech and Perinatologist took, showed these babies to be right in the appropriate ranges, though it has become fairly clear on ultrasound that Baby A is our future NBA star, with long legs and big old feet like his daddy.

Always one for keeping up the mystery, Baby B decided to hang out in the shadows of my belly button a bit longer, keeping (her) parts hidden from clear view. The docs have told me that they really think A is a boy, and B is a girl, but like any modest little girl should, when they went to get a good look, B covered up with her hands (what a little lady haha) so a definitive determination of B's gender has not been made. The Peri assured us that at the anatomy scan, we will definitely find out for sure. 

The news about my SCH was pretty good. I had a few more brown bleeds since the last time I blogged about it, and the SCH that they have been watching seems to be down to about 6.5cm which is great news (it was 12.5cm at its largest.)

The not so wonderful news is that they think I may have developed a second SCH measuring 4cmx4cm, and this one was not as far from the babies as the first so that made us sort of say ugh. The tech told us they weren't absolutely sure that it was another SCH they were seeing, explaining that it could possibly be a blood vessel, so only time will tell.

My placenta previa also seems to be doing "okay." When I am having a contraction, I have full placenta previa, but when I am not contracting, Baby A moves up a little bit and makes some room for the cervix. I asked the Peri if she thought it would correct itself, and she said that while there is still a chance that it might, at this point I am pretty far along for that to happen, so that, too, may be something they have to watch for the remainder.

Overall I have to say that I am feeling pretty good, though I am officially the size of a house, okay maybe not a whole house, but a condo at least. I am still throwing up just about daily,  but not nearly as much - and though I hear talk about some mysterious energy boost that is supposed to be here in the second tri, the rain we have been having here in the northeast these last few weeks has kept that from happening. 

I guess that if there is one good thing to be said as I approach my now 6th week of bed rest (I can't believe it, I mean I can because it is boring and redundant and I have lived it every day, but I can't believe it still) is that there is a lot of free time to partake in some good naps.

I was going to share some ultrasound pics with you today, but hubs still needs to get them scanned for me, and we are overdue for a belly shot, so that will come soon too. 

Instead I thought I would share these lovely goodies that I have been so lucky to receive over these last few weeks, for which I am truly, TRULY, grateful.

This lovely painting actually came more than a few weeks ago, isn't it beautiful? It is a watercolored butterfly sent to me from my beautiful friend Jill at Footprints on Our Hearts!

Jill was also kind enough to send me this care package to get me through bed rest, as well as some twin books which unfortunately I don't have a pic of ...

And for Peyton's birthday, a lovely blog reader named Denise H. sent me the most perfect butterfly chimes... aren't they amazing?  They hang at our front porch now, and make the most beautiful wind-song when a soft breeze blows.

Well I guess that's all I have to report... please continue to keep my sweet little snowflakes in your prayers, that they continue to grow, and thrive, and come into this world healthy and strong. 

My little snowflakes...

are in!

Now, we rest, and we wait.

Due to a very tipped uterus, and an apparently "twisted cervix" (I have never heard of such a thing) the catheterization process was a little more uncomfortable than we anticipated (thank goodness for that half a valium they had me take before hand) but the transfer itself went smooth, smooth, smooth.

Thank you again for all your prayers, well wishes, and positive vibes through the ups and downs of these last few days.

UPDATE...

First and foremost, thank you for all the prayers and kind messages of support. They have meant so much to me, and better still, they seem to be working!
(I put "seem to be" because Lord knows I have gotten burned on assumptions in the past.)

Thanks, too, for the remedy recommendations. I have given some of them a try, and am happy to report that I am feeling pretty good. My UTI seems to be clear (I am symptom free in that department) but I think the stress mixed with battling an infection, and all the IVF injections and medications, have just left me feeling a bit run down. On a positive note, I must be drinking A TON, because I lost three pounds of medication bloat overnight!

My doc is on vacation this week, but the RE who is performing the transfer has said that as long as I continue to feel well, we will go ahead as scheduled for tomorrow afternoon.

As many of you know, it takes two weeks from the time of transfer to get pregnancy results. Last time I felt so sure I was pregnant, that this time I just don't even know what to expect.

I am hoping (what an understatement that word is) to have good news to post in the weeks ahead, and really want you all to know how extremely grateful I feel for the positive vibes and prayers you have been sending our way.

Here's to two sticky embies!

International Babylost Mother's Day 2010

How did you spend Sunday May 2nd?

This year, women who have lost their children came together in their own special ways to celebrate International Babylost Mother's Day, a day created by Carly Dudley to honor the never-ending bond between a babylost mother and her child.

IBMD was an incredible experience for me, and I was fortunate to spend it with two amazing fellow babylost blog mommas.

With me were Malory, mother to Janessa Marie, who writes the blogs  Every Life Has A Story and Mommy of An Angel

And Stephanie, mother to Amelia Rose, who writes the blogs Carried Through Grief  and Beyond Words Designs.

(Stephanie, Me, Malory)          

Our day started over brunch, where we met and exchanged Mother's Day gifts. The irony was that this wasn't discussed ahead of time, and yet we each felt compelled to bring something to the celebration that would honor our roles as babylost mommas, as well as to brighten each other's day.

Stephanie brought gift cards with personalized tags, and a beautiful mix CD of songs that were helping her through her grief. Malory honored each little girl with an angel bearing their birthstone. She also created the "beautiful mother" cards that you see on the table. I brought a candle with each girls' initials on them, to illuminate their pictures as we talked.

These beautiful little girls are Janessa to the left, Peyton in the center, and Amelia to the right. They remained the central focus of our table,  and our day, and  it was truly beautiful to see them there together.

After lunch, we headed to a secluded reservoir for our balloon release. We brought 5 balloons and 1 butterfly balloon for the release. The 5 balloons were sent to heaven, 1 for each of our daughters, 1 for all the other babies lost who had touched our hearts, and 1 sent to heaven in prayer to watch over all the other babylost mommas. Here are some pictures from our balloon release.

(Malory and Stephanie pick out their balloons.)

(Me working on the Momma's Balloon)

 

(Malory writing a balloon message to all of the babies that have touched our hearts.)

We walked down to the edge of the water and said a few words to honor the significance of the day.

The skies were clear and blue, and the sun was shining as we prepared to let the balloons go.

 

And when the moment felt right, we watched them float above us.

 

The balloons lingered for a while, dancing above us in a pack, before beginning their graceful journey into the heavens and out of sight. 

After our balloon release, we stayed together the remainder of the day, walking along the nearby river. We talked about our lives, our children, and our grief. We may have just met that day, but our connection was like that of three girls who had known each other their whole lives. We had so much fun in fact, that it wasn't until after 8PM that we finally said our goodbyes!


Child loss can feel so isolating at times, but yesterday there was none of that. There was no feeling left out or alone. Yesterday we were three mommas, in love with our daughters, celebrating International Babylost Mother's Day together. It was a day filled with laughter and tears and understanding.

Yesterday was beautiful.

On Karma...

"Lots of people want to ride the limo with you, but a true friend will take the bus with you when the limo breaks down."-Oprah

"My Karma ran over your Dogma."-Unknown

***

*A little disclaimer

This post talks about Karma and self blame. Please don't think, in reading this, that I think any of you are to blame for your losses, or that Karma played a role, I am just trying to be truthful here about what has been going through my own mind.

***

Up until September 4, 2008, my life had been a fairly typical one, a mix of good times, and not so good times, that always seemed to find a way to continue on in an upward trend.

Here is my life... in a nutshell.

I was a very happy little kid, and a pretty happy teenager. I was captain of cheerleading, nine times out of ten my grades landed me on the honor roll, and teachers usually commented that I was "very bright, but far too social" in my classes. When I went to college, I went through a really bad breakup with a person who was NOT good for me, and while at the time I thought it was the end of the world, later I realized that freedom from that type of a relationship would be one of the greatest gifts I have ever been given. My freshman year of college I got really sick with a throat infection that landed me in the hospital, and had me sidelined for the better part of my first semester, and when I came through that I went through this completely obnoxious phase of feeling invincible, and responded with a little period of rebellion that to this day makes me do a mental head slap, but for the most part wasn't outside the norm of what most kids do at one point or another. A year later I found a sense of direction, and went on to meet my husband, enjoy the start of a very successful career, and make plans to start a family... you know the rest.

I always felt peace with every part of my life (even my mistakes because I had learned from them) and if I had to do all over again, I always said I wouldn't change a thing, because it had been this succession of actions (both the right ones and the wrong ones) which led me to the exact moment of meeting my husband nearly nine years ago, and in the end, finding this amazing person to spend my life with was all that mattered. 

There is a saying about looking at life through rose colored glasses, and I think that is what I used to do, but my ability for that seems to be another victim of this loss, and when I look back now, everything seems tainted by self blame. 

Lately I can't focus on anything that represents my having any good qualities, like moments where I made someone feel loved, or proved myself to be a good friend. When I flip through scenes in my life, all I can see are moments that I might feel regret or shame over, moments where my morals and priorities were misguided, or I had been difficult or a disappointment to those who loved me, and I play through these moments wondering which one of them exactly it was that landed Karma's foot up my ass. There are idiotic moments that I used to joke about looking back on later in life, moments of being carefree and stupid that I thought would bring laughter when my life got too over-scheduled and boring. Now when I think about them I just feel dread and worry that maybe it was one of these moments that has come back to haunt me.

I am a woman.

I should have made a healthy baby.

I should be able to get pregnant.

I have failed in all these things.

Clearly I am to blame. 

When in this rut, nothing is off the table for scrutiny. Not even my accomplishments. 

I was always successful at work... is this a penance for being too cocky? 

I wanted a nice house in a nice neighborhood, one that I could be proud of... am I paying for misguided priorities?

I like to think I have always treated people with respect... is there someone from my past who feels wronged by me? 

I think you can see where this is going...

I can be very hard on myself. Brutally so. Since losing Peyton, I see myself only in the harshest light. It is a trait that my husband blames on my "Catholic guilt." I feel like maybe I have no right to happiness. Maybe Karma has deemed me not good enough. 

Yesterday I got to going down the self blame road, when something suddenly called me in a different direction. It was a conversation with a friend, an amazing loving friend, where we didn't talk about anything in particular, and yet I couldn't help feeling an appreciation for all I do have.

I have kind hearted, loving, and supportive people in my life. Some of them I have known since I was a little kid, others I met when I was in college, or during work, or fall into this newer category of people that I have connected or reconnected with because of this loss. Their commitment to me has been unyielding, and it got me to thinking... would these people who I love and admire really put in the effort to stick around me if I were really such a terrible person? 

Probably not.

The idea of Karma can be a really slippery slope. It can lead us to the darkest recesses of our minds, and make a journey that is already painfully self doubting, even worse. If Karma really existed, there wouldn't be a saying like "nice guys finish last." The truth of the matter is that some of the meanest and most judgmental people out there are also those who have never had to be tested, and some of the least deserving people, find success with the most ease. Clearly, there is no Karma in that.

Don't get me wrong, I totally believe in the golden rule of doing unto others as you would have them do unto you, but I also think that maybe I need to work on accepting the possibility that this hasn't been "done unto me" as a result of anything I have done. Maybe it has just been a run of really shitty luck that happened to someone who, like everyone else, has made some mistakes or had moments that she isn't particularly proud of, but in general, tries to be a good person.

Maybe it's time I give this person-myself, a break.

Focusing on the task at hand...

Thank you all for your kind messages of support these last few days. Being a loss blogger, I have come across several posts from other BLM's about mean "anonymous" comments that people have sent them, and grieving in such an open forum I half expected at some point to receive words like this from a stranger, but never, ever, from family. Both hubs and I appreciated your messages and the validation they gave to how we were feeling about this particular couple's actions.

More than forty five of you commented on my last post, and one theme seemed to be unanimous in all that you wrote - further contact with this couple will only cause more stress/pain.

Are we hurt like hell that something (someone) that was so important in our life meant nothing in theirs? Of course. That being said, hubs and I have decided that any relative who chose not to be there with us in sorrow, is not someone we want to have beside us in joy anyway (even though we are fairly certain that their response to our joy would have been equally selfish.)

I know that Jesus said to "turn the other cheek," but after the insults to my child, my husband, and myself, I am out of cheeks left to slap, so its time to turn away from these people and their hurtful words and actions altogether, and focus our full energies instead on the task at hand... making our rainbow baby(ies).

So now... onto more fun stuff.

We started Follistim injections Tuesday evening. These injections, for those of you who don't know, are subcutaneous and can be inserted into an area of the thigh, or the abdomen. We chose to do them via the abdomen because, for some reason, the idea of shooting myself in the thigh gives me the willies.

Hubs played doctor the first night, performing the injection as I laid out on the couch (like a total weenie) shielding my eyes with my hands. His reaction was something along the lines of, "wow that was harder to insert than I thought," to which I responded, "that was it?" Really, for anyone out there facing this particular injection (I can't speak for the others yet) the pain falls under the NBD class, for No Big Deal.

A few minutes after the injection, the area below my skin started to sort of burn and ache. This lasted maybe five to ten minutes, then subsided. I think that sensation must have been from the drug spreading out but am not sure.

I must have handled the whole thing pretty well, because last night hubs got invited to a Rangers hockey game, and tried to coax me to join him and do my injection in the middle of Madison Square Garden. I told him that wasn't really an idea that appealed to me, so the topic turned to whether or not I felt up to the challenge of self injection. Until I actually did it, I wasn't sure how I would handle it, but that too fell under NBD status. There was a little prick with very little pain or blood, followed a few minutes later by a burning ache.

Tuesday I had an ultrasound, and was given some good news, and some "I don't know what to do with that" news. The good news is that I have 20 follicles in one ovary, and 15 in the other, so, as the nurse explained, I am "very fertile for being so infertile." Comments like this make me mentally wave my fist at the air and yell "damn you c-section!"

The "I don't know what to do with that" news, was that my uterus, which has always been a little tipped, is now tipped and twisted. I don't really know what that means. Have any of you dealt with a twisted uterus, and if so, did it pose any issues?

Between the progesterone to start my cycle, and these injections, I have had a few side effects, mostly leg cramps and bloating, but today when I woke up, I was extremely nauseous, dizzy, and just feeling blah. The IVF nurse assured me that this is probably a bug from the constant change in weather we have been experiencing, and not something having to do with the meds. If she is right, I am hoping to feel better in the next few days.

So there you have it. More forward momentum. Sometime next week I will go in for the retrieval, and then 3 or 5 days later, return for implantation. As most of you know, getting royally kicked in the gut by the universe a few times in a row, the way we have, will leave a person lacking optimism. That being said, for some unknown reason, I feel really confident about this cycle. I am just sort of expecting that it will work. Someone told me not to get my hopes up too high, but honestly, my hopes have nowhere to go but up.


**I wanted to mention, too, how incredibly behind I am on my reading. I had some Google reader issues that seem to have remedied themselves, but now there are hundreds of posts in there. I have been going through them, just reading some, reading and commenting on others, and want you all to know that just because you may not have heard from me in a few days, does not mean you are not in my thoughts.

On Being "Grateful"

I hate The Beatles.

I know, I know, how could anyone hate The Beatles, right? But I do. 

Now before you get ready to hurl rocks at me, maybe I should give you a little more insight as to where this anger toward The Fab Five stems from.

For the last two, possibly three years, my husband has had our morning alarm set to "The Beatles Greatest Hits," and I challenge anyone, even the most die hard fan, to wake up day in and day out to the sound of Paul McCartney's voice, and not develop a sour taste in your mouth at just the thought of him.

Well this morning, as the CD started spinning, I realized something was amiss. Instead of hearing "Bang bang Maxwell's silver hammer came down on her head... do dee do dee do..." I heard what I thought was the start of the DMB song "Crash." Too tired to make sense of it, I rolled over, hit the snooze button, and went back to sleep.

Ten minutes later I was scrunched in a ball at the foot of the bed when the alarm came back on. Out of reach of the button, I buried my head below the pillow hoping for silence, and heard these words...

"You got your wall You got your train"
"Crash into me, baby, and I cut into you"
"In the void stream"
"Touch your leaves just so I know"
"I'm verve own and crazy"

Huh? What the?

"Hike up your skirt a little more, and shove your war to me."

Putting the pieces together, I opened my eyes, looked at the picture on my wall of hubs and I on our wedding day, and started to laugh.

So now that I am sure you are all thoroughly confused...the backstory.

Hubs and I spent our honeymoon in Mexico at a resort called Secrets in Playa del Carmen. On one of the nights, the hotel brought in a band, I think they were called "Two Guys Play Acoustic Music" to play covers of popular American songs beach side. 

There is something to be said about the affect that ambiance can have on an experience, because on that beach, with the wind blowing, the waves crashing, and my newly married finger bling blinging in the moon light, "Two Guys Play Acoustic Music" sounded great... well good... well...

When the concert was over, my husband rushed to the table where "Two Guys Play Acoustic Music" were selling CD's, and pulled out his wallet to purchase his own copy.

"These guys are GREAT!" He beamed, grinning ear to ear.

Remember what I told you about ambience?

When our plane arrived home from Mexico, hubs excitedly retrieved the CD from his suitcase, and popped it into the car's player to play on the drive home.

You know how you can go through life incorrectly singing the lyrics of songs, like "pour some sugar on me," becomes "pour some sugar ramen"? Well this CD was like 120 minutes of that. 

Disappointed for not having just discovered "the next big thing", hubs tossed "Two Guys Play Acoustic Music" into a drawer, never to be played again. That is, of course, until this morning. 

My therapist told me yesterday that she found me to be "more depressed than usual," words that, coming from her, are probably not a good sign since she gets paid to hear me cry, bitch, whine and complain on a regular basis. Hubs, I am assuming by this gesture, sensed that too.

Waking up this morning, I expected my outlook on life to be just more of the same.

 "Wah! My kid's dead. Wah! Im am infertile. Wah! Wah! Bah Humbug! Wah!"

This song reminding me of happier times, made me laugh at my husband's sense of humor, and sort of set a different, happier tone for the rest of the day.

Even when I had a bit of a mishap this morning, with my dog eating an entire box of Chocolate Chip Cookies, and me having to give her hydrogen peroxide to make her throw up, my good mood couldn't be broken.

The reminders of all I do have continued.

After fixing up the dog (yes she is okay) I logged in to read some lovely and supportive comments left for me here after my post yesterday, and went on to receive a beautiful gift in my inbox from my dear BLM friend Carly.

I am loved. Waking up to this song, today I was reminded of that.  

By my husband. By my family. By my friends both in real life and in the amazing community that I have met through this loss, I am loved. 

As I wrote yesterday, I will never be grateful for Peyton's loss. But starting my day this way, listening to a song strategically placed by my hubs to put a smile on my face, I was reminded that I still have a lot to be grateful for.



****
Please also hop over and give Sami's momma Lisette some love today as she mourns the passing of her sister in law unexpectedly of a brain aneurism.

Thank You Lisa!

Another beautiful gift to help brighten what has become a hard week for me.

Thank you so much to Lisa at Waterfall Angels, for creating these amazing images of Peyton's name.

Lisa lost her son Jasper Thomas in March of 2009. Due to HELLP syndrome, a condition that threatened Lisa's life, Jasper was born at 6 1/2 months and fought for life for 36 hours.

Lisa took these stunning pictures of Peyton's name that she had written on a river rock and photographed at Rainbow Springs State Park in Florida.

Regarding name requests Lisa writes:  I will be taking request as soon as I'm done writing the angels of the blogs that I follow. Thank you for your patience. 


Please be sure to head over and show Lisa your love, and Lisa, thank you so much for this beautiful gift. 

"Look for the signs. They are everywhere!"

Today I went for a visit to Peyton's grave. It was about 2PM and my buddy Guerwyn (the 83 year old who I see up at the cemetery) brought some very sad news. Our other cemetery friend, a guy named Mike who was wheelchair bound after a construction accident, had aspirated when he got sick in his sleep and couldn't sit up. He passed away. This news came as a real shock. Mike, was barely forty.

A voice in my mind: "You need to find a way to start living."


After talking with Guerwyn, and discussing the news in disbelief, I made my way to visit Peyton's grave. It was bitter cold today, and I knew our visit would be cut short by the weather. I apologized for not coming by as often as usual, and explained how hard this last week has been for me. Saying my prayers, I went to leave, when two things caught my eye. The first was a large set of dog prints around my daughter's grave, and that of her neighbors. The second was that a vase at the grave beside hers was filled to the brim with yellow snow. The jerk I wrote about here and here had returned to let his dogs violate the graves on Peyton's Hill. Last week there was substantial damage to Peyton's grave blanket, and I thought maybe he was responsible. This evidence was irrefutable. He had promised not to return. He had said he understood. I was beside myself.

Walking back to the car, Guerwyn sensed that I was upset, and asked what was wrong.

"I wish I knew that guy's name so that I could look up his grave when he passes, and have my dogs piss on it."

"Your a  meany!" Guerwyn teased with the joking smile of a kid, but his humor was lost on me. I was furious.

Taring out of the cemetery, I knew what I had to do, and headed directly to the Police Department. I was a woman on a mission. A protective mother who couldn't bear any longer to see the spot where her daughter laid being disrespected. I stomped the snow off my boots, and headed for the front door and straight up to the desk.

"Can I help you?" The dispatcher asked.

"I need to file a complaint."

"Regarding?"

"Regarding a man who lets his dogs defecate on my child's grave."

"Oh..." she offered, "just a moment."

I gave the woman raw details, and my contact information, and she promised an animal control officer would call me within the hour. I headed home, fed Charlotte (my black lab) and waited by the phone.

I should mention here that I have been on some crazy antibiotics the last week to fight any possible infection that might have been brought on by the HSG. The pills are huge, and have to be taken 2 hours after AND 2 hours before you eat, so that your stomach is very, very empty. They make me nauseous as all get out, and admittedly a little cranky, so when the phone rang and the woman, we will call her "Officer B", asked me what had happened, I spilled every gory detail of what this man had let his dogs do, and why it hurt me so badly. I then went on, in the uncensored manner that has become commonplace, to also spill all the gory details about my misfortune, all the way down to my two bum tubes.

"It's all a little overwhelming." I admitted. "You know, she's still my daughter. It might sound silly, because she is dead, but, she is still my daughter. I just want to protect her."

"I understand," Officer B. consoled. "I lost my daughter too. She was 24. To suicide."

Isn't it funny the way you feel an instant connection with someone? Just as I have with so many of you, because of our shared loss, I knew that Officer B really got where I was coming from, and in turn, having lost my own child, and a close friend as a teen to suicide, I understood where she was coming from. Our situations were totally different, but the bond was there. The connection was instant. In that moment I knew she, too, was determined to stop this asshat from letting his dogs violate Peyton's hill.

Officer B went straight to the cemetery and checked it out.

"I see footprints and urine everywhere," she acknowledged. "Now, here's the bad news. There are no leash laws in this town, so unless he is caught in the act, it's going to make it hard."

I told her I understood. And she promised to patrol the area at the time of day when I usually found him. We made more small talk, and promising to let her know if I saw him again, and she to let me know if anything came of the report, we ended the call.

Charlotte had a vet appointment today at 5 to get her second Lyme vaccination, and by 5:15 we were on our way back home. Walking in the door, I heard the phone ring.

"Kristin?"

"Yes."

"This is Officer B. You will never believe this."

"What?"

"Right after I hung up with you, this little black dog came running up to me unleashed. Two more followed behind him. And finally, our guy."

"No! What happened?" I asked eagerly.

She told me about their exchange. How initially he provided false information and so she called for backup, who came in for the assist. I couldn't believe it. In less than two hours time, this wonderful woman had taken care of something that had caused me much grief.

"Your not the only one to complain." She told me. "There have been others from the church too."

She told me that she politely let him know that to walk his dogs there, they would have to be leashed and kept away from the stones, and if there were further complaints, he would be fined.

"I'm not gonna leash them," he told her. "My dogs like to chase squirrels, that's why I let them come here to roam around."

"Listen," she said, "I lost my child. I understand where these complaints are coming from. These people come here to grieve. That is what this place is for. Your dog's defecating adds to their grief. You cannot bring them here if you won't follow the rules."

Disgruntled, he said he would just find another place to bring them then.

"Good," I told her. "Go somewhere else."

"There's more..." she went on.

After looking up his real name she found that none of his dogs were registered, and he was met with a hefty fine on that one today too.

"Some happy new year!" was all he could say.

I couldn't believe her story, and it got me to thinking... maybe my doctor was wrong... maybe there IS justice in this world.

"I can't tell you how grateful I am for what you did today," I told her.

"I understand where you are coming from. I understand that pain. " She said.

We talked a bit more, about life, about our dogs, and then in saying goodbye, she added "look for the signs."

"Signs," I asked, "like from my daughter?"

"Yes, look for the signs, they are everywhere."

"Maybe this was a sign." I said. "Maybe our daughter's found eachother up there and brought you to me, and me to  you, so that you could help me with this guy, and we could talk about our girls and our grief and come together. Maybe this was a sign."

"Maybe so," she agreed.

Maybe so, indeed.

THANK YOU OFFICER B!

Thank you ANGIE at Still Life with Circles

Just a quick note here. I wanted to send out a huge Thank You to Angie for the beautiful donations she sent to Doing Good In Her Name. Check them out here. Angie, your generosity humbles me, and has touched my heart. I am so grateful. Thank you!

Christmas Comes Early This Year

Hi All!

I just learned about a 5 year old boy named Noah Biorkman who is in the last stages of a 2 year battle with Neuroblastoma Cancer. His family is celebrating Christmas next week and Noahs request is to get lots of Christmas cards.

Please let's make this little warrior's wish come true.

Send cards to:

Noah Biorkman

1141 Fountain View Circle

South Lyon, Mi 48178

Lets see how many cards
we can get together for this brave little boy.

Thank You and God Bless.

Please also consider posting this very urgent message to your blogs.

A Beautiful Gift. Mel's 77th Show & Tell

I have been in a sort of weird place these last few days, doing most of my writing in poetry form on various scraps of paper and in my journals, so I haven't been blogging as much as usual. I know I am a little late on posting, but I wanted to still participate in Show and Tell this week.

I was torn between two things that I wanted to share, and have opted to save the second for next week, so today I am going to talk about the beautiful gift that I received in the mail on Monday from Carleigh's Momma, Holly. Holly offered really beautiful giveaways last month in honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. My gift, and many of the others, were created by My Forever Child. I felt such joy when I received this gift in the mail, and of course, had to go up to the grave to share it with Peyton. While I was there I took these pictures.

Isn't it beautiful? This lovely necklace boasts a pink and blue (the picture just doesn't do it justice) Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Ribbon.

I have been wearing it with my little bootie charm that I was given by my mother in law at Peyton's funeral. This charm has her name engraved on the back.

To see what the rest of the class is sharing, visit here.

Compassion. Mel's 76th Show & Tell

I am fortunate. Even through this loss, I have reminded myself of this each day.

I have a husband, family, and a group of close friends who don't always "get" what I am going through, but love me regardless. I have an excellent therapist that specializes in this kind of loss, great medical care to help us through whatever this SIF is throwing at us, and we live without having to worry about our next meal, or whether or not we can pay the heating bill. These are just a few of the things I try to remind myself of in my darkest hours.

There are many mothers in this world who lose their children everyday without the comfort of a family, a roof over their head, a safe society to live in, access to medical care etc. It could be worse. There are so many in this world, even those that have never lost a child, that have it worse. Poverty, war, famine, the list goes on an on.

There is no shortage of grief in this world, and no shortage of people that could use our help, in some capacity or another.


When we were marking Peyton's first birthday, I really wanted to find something positive to do in her name. I have all these grand plans in mind about a Peyton Foundation I hope to one day set up to support NICU families. Even then, during the nightmare of worry that was Peyton's life, I realized how lucky were were to be together, in a hospital that specialized in children, and on the receiving end of many random acts of kindness. I have often thought how much harder it would have been to be there as a single parent, or to find ourselves instead in some huge city hospital where we could have gotten lost in the shuffle. I felt frustrated as Peyton's birthday approached to not yet be in a place where I could carry something like this out, but I do believe that in time, my energy will return, my emotions will be lifted, and this idea will get off the ground.

So, that left me in a bit of a pickle as Peyton's birthday approached. I was a mess. I wanted to do some good to mark her day, but also knew it needed to be something that wouldn't be affected by whether or not I was having a good or a bad day.

I sent checks out to our usual charities, but still felt like something was missing. I wanted something new. Something unique for her special day. I was reading around on the internet, trying to get ideas when I came across (Carleigh's Momma) Holly's family blog and the story of Shalini, a little girl from India that Carly sponsors through Compassion International. I knew once I saw the picture (and checked out Compassion International on Charity Navigator) that this was what I wanted to do as Peyton's Birthday gift. So today, for show and tell, I am sharing with you, our little sponsor child Lizeth. She is from Bolivia, 5 years old, and just adorable. Sponsorship covers food, education, bible studies, medical and dental expenses, job training for her parents.... and... birthday parties! How fun is that? I don't know why I loved that my sponsorship would get her a birthday party, but it brought a smile to my face and welcoming this little child into our heart at a point when we were so missing Peyton, well it just felt right. I searched many children's profiles, but I knew once I saw Lizeth, that she was the one...Anyone that matches a fancy party dress with boots and a turtle neck is my kinda kid!

We just received our first picture of her, sorry the picture quality here is so bad, I don't have a scanner so I took a picture of her picture. Last week we responded with our own picture and a letter back to her: How do you like school? What do you do for fun? Etc. Etc. I am really looking forward to learning all about her and her family.

To see what others are showing and telling, click Here. 


*************
Please also send Lisette some love today. Her little baby girl, Lauren Samantha, was born into her arms this Monday, and into Heaven shortly after.

Wings

I search for beauty among these terrible things

today I find it picturing my child in her angel wings

imagining her sweet giggle as she flies above

watching over us, spreading her love

Though my faith has been tested by her death

sometimes it helps me to catch my next breath

imagining her dancing around pain free up there

among the rainbows, the clouds, the sun, the air

I hope she knows we feel each sweet gesture

and believe they are blessings sent down by her

helping us survive even the most terrible day

by sending others to hold our hand along the way

So fitting that this image be

and one bringing such happy solace to me

for on the very day she was deceased

we Catholics mark The Guardian Angels Feast

So fly sweet little girl of mine

and down from Heaven let your spirit shine

through happy moments that help us find our smile

and the kindness of others along this grieving mile

~Kristin Binder

A huge Thank You to Lea at the Angel Wings Memorial Boutique

for surprising me with these beautiful wings

created out of love in Peyton's honor.

Kindness Grows Here & In Rory's Garden - Mel's 75th Show & Tell

How far that little candle throws his beams!

So shines a good deed in a naughty world.

~William Shakespeare, Merchant of Venice

I have received so many amazing messages of support through this community since my craptastic visit to the Doctor on Monday, and I have to say, they have really been helping. There are no words appropriate to describe how much your  kindness has meant through this latest blow.


I don't know if you all realize just how deeply your comments resonate with me, how much comfort I find in them, or how much it means to know that there are others who understand what the news of SIF after losing your only baby can do to a person. So many of you know me only through this blog, and still, you reach out to hold my hand, cry, and pray with me. These actions mean so, so much.

This morning I woke to find a beautiful note in my inbox. It read:

Dear Kristin

I know you are having a heartbreakingly awful time at the moment. I am so deeply sorry. Whilst I’ll continue to keep you in my thoughts and prayers I am also sending this as a gift of love from Rory’s Garden.
Sarah xxxxx

I felt such joy in receiving this gift, this random act of kindness. As Peyton's mother, seeing her little life honored in such a breathtaking and selfless way, knowing that someone who had never met us created this tribute with such care, it moved me to tears. Thank you so much Sarah.

I am sharing this with you all today because it is a beautiful, beautiful photograph, and it is my hope that in doing so, I can help to spread the word about the amazing Say It With Flowers project. 

Your messages of support, and this amazing gift, each act as a reminder to us all that we can, in our own special ways, shine beams of light onto the others in this community who are struggling  to find direction in the darkness.

Thank you for helping to light my path.


To see what others are showing visit here.