Thank you for your visits and for leaving such caring messages, I hope that you know how much they mean to me.
Have a peaceful week friends.
September 26, 2011
yesterday.
Yesterday we went for a walk and soaked up any remaining bits of summer. We also ran into some feathered friends. There are good days and bad days, and yesterday was good.
Thank you for your visits and for leaving such caring messages, I hope that you know how much they mean to me.
Have a peaceful week friends.
Thank you for your visits and for leaving such caring messages, I hope that you know how much they mean to me.
Have a peaceful week friends.
September 1, 2011
hope.
Thank you to those who left us such thoughtful comments, Justin and I are feeling everyone's support during this difficult time and it means a lot.
It's incredibly touching to know that i'm being thought of by such kind people across the miles, most of whom i've never even met but who care enough to send comforting emails and the most genuine and loving telephone message. Ladies whom i've connected and created beautiful bonds with through our blogs and whom i'm sincerely grateful to have in my life.
I started this blog a year ago for an escape and for fun, a place where I could share my husband's beautiful photos, my own photos and where I could write about things that make me happy. It didn't take very long for my blog to get personal. Very personal. That wasn't what my blog was about in the beginning but things change, life changes, and I have to say that spilling my guts here feels good.
This past year and a half, J and I have been dealt a certain infertility card, which until recently our baby boy proved the doctors wrong. I had 6 of the absolute happiest months of my entire life carrying Liam inside of me and I shared every moment of it here on my blog. Now, i'm faced with the most painful thing in the world and i'm sharing the loss of our child. I've read all about the stages of dealing with the loss of a baby. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Acceptance. Right now i'm feeling the deepest sadness that i've ever known, i'm feeling guilty, angry and i'm trying to understand my incompetent cervix. But while i'm feeling all of these things, I haven't lost hope. Hope is my light, it keeps me going and keeps me dreaming that I will one day carry a baby again and bring him or her into this world safely. The doctors are giving me hope too, they say that we could do things differently next time and that we'd have a better chance of getting me further along in my pregnancy now that we know everything there is to know... that has been really hard to hear, losing our Liam in order to bring another child into the world is cruel and unfair.
My time in the hospital wasn't easy, everyday had it's ups and downs, but so many people filled up my heart with hope and support. My parents visited me every day, twice a day, and they were like rays of sunshine every time they stepped through my door. My mom helped me wash myself every morning and helped me keep a fresh mind for the day ahead with her pep talks and readings of inspirational passages from her books. My dad gave me wonderful leg and foot massages and just having him sit next to me reading the newspaper made my hospital room feel a little more like home. Justin was with me every night, traveling from his work downtown to the hospital to comfort me while I know that he needed comforting himself. My girlfriends visited and called me every day, and every time we said our goodbye's or hung up the phone, I felt as though a weight was lifted. I know that my pain is shared by many, there are so many people who were hoping and praying for Liam. Just knowing that I have all these supportive and amazing people in my life, who are there no matter what, to talk or to listen, day or night, is a huge comfort to me. I'm finding comfort in writing too, my girlfriend brought me a journal while I was in the hospital and writing has helped me release some of the pain. And I cry a lot, the tears just come but I let them out no matter where I am and nobody makes me feel embarrassed about it.
Baby loss and infertility are a part of my life now. These are my truths, and using this place to let go of some of the weight feels good. Thank you for reading, sharing your own experiences with me and for caring.
It's incredibly touching to know that i'm being thought of by such kind people across the miles, most of whom i've never even met but who care enough to send comforting emails and the most genuine and loving telephone message. Ladies whom i've connected and created beautiful bonds with through our blogs and whom i'm sincerely grateful to have in my life.
I started this blog a year ago for an escape and for fun, a place where I could share my husband's beautiful photos, my own photos and where I could write about things that make me happy. It didn't take very long for my blog to get personal. Very personal. That wasn't what my blog was about in the beginning but things change, life changes, and I have to say that spilling my guts here feels good.
This past year and a half, J and I have been dealt a certain infertility card, which until recently our baby boy proved the doctors wrong. I had 6 of the absolute happiest months of my entire life carrying Liam inside of me and I shared every moment of it here on my blog. Now, i'm faced with the most painful thing in the world and i'm sharing the loss of our child. I've read all about the stages of dealing with the loss of a baby. Sadness. Anger. Guilt. Acceptance. Right now i'm feeling the deepest sadness that i've ever known, i'm feeling guilty, angry and i'm trying to understand my incompetent cervix. But while i'm feeling all of these things, I haven't lost hope. Hope is my light, it keeps me going and keeps me dreaming that I will one day carry a baby again and bring him or her into this world safely. The doctors are giving me hope too, they say that we could do things differently next time and that we'd have a better chance of getting me further along in my pregnancy now that we know everything there is to know... that has been really hard to hear, losing our Liam in order to bring another child into the world is cruel and unfair.
My time in the hospital wasn't easy, everyday had it's ups and downs, but so many people filled up my heart with hope and support. My parents visited me every day, twice a day, and they were like rays of sunshine every time they stepped through my door. My mom helped me wash myself every morning and helped me keep a fresh mind for the day ahead with her pep talks and readings of inspirational passages from her books. My dad gave me wonderful leg and foot massages and just having him sit next to me reading the newspaper made my hospital room feel a little more like home. Justin was with me every night, traveling from his work downtown to the hospital to comfort me while I know that he needed comforting himself. My girlfriends visited and called me every day, and every time we said our goodbye's or hung up the phone, I felt as though a weight was lifted. I know that my pain is shared by many, there are so many people who were hoping and praying for Liam. Just knowing that I have all these supportive and amazing people in my life, who are there no matter what, to talk or to listen, day or night, is a huge comfort to me. I'm finding comfort in writing too, my girlfriend brought me a journal while I was in the hospital and writing has helped me release some of the pain. And I cry a lot, the tears just come but I let them out no matter where I am and nobody makes me feel embarrassed about it.
Baby loss and infertility are a part of my life now. These are my truths, and using this place to let go of some of the weight feels good. Thank you for reading, sharing your own experiences with me and for caring.