Tuesday, April 22, 2014

Nothing but a memory

Giff needed me to go to New Mexico to HAVE A GREAT TIME BONDING.  I wish I knew how long he was going to live there because then I would know if it was worth it to learn how to spell Al-bu-ker-key correctly.  But I can't afford to waste any space in my brain so I usually just write New Mexico.  Millie started planning the trip and asked me if I could come with her and Denny to help Giff move and stuff.  I was like, "sure" but secretly thought it would never happen because there were too many things to work out.  Of course the biggest thing was seeing if Diana could watch Kendall and Maci because even though I do have a friend, maybe two that would probably do it for me I would have never felt comfy leaving them with anyone but Diana (for a whole day) and she agreed right off the bat and I couldn't believe it was happening.  I kept waiting for it to get cancelled.  Even my dad was coming and I knew it would be the experience of a lifetime:) 
 
Millie warned me from the get go that Denny wanted to take a small detour to Montrose, CO where he was born.  We were like no way will that happen.  Sure a two hour detour seems small but once were on the road for a ten hour drive he'll change his mind. 
 
Even my dad, the king of road trips, was hesitant when Denny brought up the idea.  And yet.  As Denny persisted with the idea my dad got more and more excited about it.  Well, I don't need to waste anytime typing about how very flexible I am, so I was "totally fine either way.  EITHER WAY.  Like, even if we decide to drive straight to New Mexico and only have seven hours left of our trip instead of nine I will not complain."
 
But as soon as we stopped I was glad we made the detour.  It was so fun and exciting to drive around the streets where my parents had spent so much time and where I had heard so many stories.  We drove straight to the hospital (if only all our stops had a big blue H pointing us in the right direction.)  Everywhere we stopped my dad said, "hmm, I think it's been remodeled/repainted/changed a little bit".  But this was the place where Denny came into this beautiful world and I loved picturing my mom excitedly entering the hospital FINALLY getting to meet her baby boy who had alluded her for so long. 
 
 The picture below is where I had a mid life crisis for some reason.  It's the elementary school where Millie started kindergarten.  And the sign out front said "kindergarten registration" then I felt like I was suffocating.  I once again pictured my mom bringing her little girls on the first day of school, with two small ones in tow and another in the belly.  She would have been slightly older than I am now--at the same stage in life as me.  She was so happy and positive, so full of life and friends and family to everyone she met.  It was hard for me to picture her there, a living, breathing being.  And now having been gone from my life for so long.  And to not have been there when I sent my second baby to school and when I had my four ducks in a row and my baby growing in my belly.  Or when he wasn't anymore.  And I hoped that I would be able to be with my kids during all those times in their life.  It was heavy and it made me super sad and homesick not only for my kids, but my future kids and my past mom and my present mom and everything.  My dad drove us past our old apartments and his old work and our old church. 

I asked, "Dad, how much money were you making?"  He responded, "About a hundred dollars a week."  I said, "Um.  Was that...like...good money for back then."  Because by my calculations it was not.  "No."  He quickly and firmly responded.  "We were very poor."  But he loved the job and it led to bigger and better things and how amazing that he and my mom were brave enough to set off on this road that led to so many wonderful blessings. 

He told us a lot about his job and the schools he worked with.  He wasn't as successful monetarily at his small town jobs, but he definitely had more fame.  Before we moved to Kaysville, I knew my dad was famous because everywhere we went people came up to him.  Even perfect strangers who recognized his picture in the paper.  When we moved to Kaysville he was famous because he was "Greg Hill" he already had his roots and didn't have to be a big time news editor to prove it. 

On the drive to Montrose he asked if we wanted to stop and eat at an "upscale" place called Mary's.  He said once he took my mom to Mary's.  He wooed her all day and took her to this nice dinner and gave her a gift.  She finally said, "do you think it's our anniversary?"  At which point he realized it was NOT their anniversary.  He said, "uh, no of course not I just wanted to treat you special."  And he never confessed his mistake!

 

Wednesday, April 9, 2014

My Baby

This a very personal post.  One I've written several times and not posted several times.  The main reason I decided to post it is because I need a reminder for myself.  One minute we can be surrounded by heavenly angels and be so close to heaven we have no doubts that all will be well.  And the very next we can be on our knees begging for relief from the darkness.  I need to record the times where there's light, so when the darkness comes, I can look back and be grateful.  I don't know how much I will write, I know this post is really long, but there's much, much more.
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Just like before, I knew I was pregnant even before a test confirmed it.  The day I thought the test would be positive it wasn't.  I was surprised, but thought maybe my timing was off.  The next day when Dave and I were out for dinner that familiar wave of nausea swept over me and I knew I had tested too soon. 

I took another test the next morning and it immediately turned positive.  I was too excited to do something clever to tell Dave and I just ran out to him with the test. 

From the beginning, I was a little hesitant.  I thought my previous miscarriage was causing me to feel unsure. 

I always feel a little uneasy about that first appointment, and this time was no exception.  My terrible morning sickness made me think maybe this was real and the ultrasound came and there he was.  Right away we saw our bouncing little gummy bear.  We were so happy and came home and hung the picture on the fridge. 

I continued to blame my feelings of uneasiness on the miscarriage, and things continued to go smoothly. 

One night I was around 15 weeks and I noticed I was bleeding.  Only a little bit, but I had never so much as bled one drop during a healthy pregnancy and I was terrified.  I knew Dave was on the train.  He would be home in less than a half hour but it felt like forever.  I couldn't hold back the tears and I told my very concerned kids I was worried about our baby.

As soon as Dave got home I had him call the doctor.  The doctor said he was not concerned because of the amount but if we'd feel better, we could go to labor and delivery.  I didn't want to go to labor and delivery so I decided to call in the morning for an appointment.

I barely slept that night and called the doctor first thing in the morning. I embellished every detail so they would get me in right away.  Of course it was my regular OB's day off but I didn't care.  I had the appointment and that was what mattered.

Dave drove half way to the train station that morning before he was prompted to turn around and be with me.  I dropped the kids off to Kelly and with a very heavy heart drove to the doctor.  Dave was optimistic and had given me a blessing beforehand that all would be well.  His happiness was a great distraction for the sinking feeling I was experiencing.  He kept making comments about when the baby was born and I asked myself why he was doing this.  Didn't he know this was very likely all over?

The first thing Dr. Davis did was an ultrasound. Again, we saw a healthy 15 week baby on the screen. Again, I couldn't believe it. Dave asked me if I was feeling so much better and I told him not really, not yet. I thought maybe I was still too shaken. The doctor found that my placenta had slightly seperated from my uterus and that's what was causing the bleeding. He told me to take it easy for a few days, but after that the bleeding should stop and I could continue life as usual. He told me to come in every two weeks so they could keep an eye on the tear and make sure it closes, or at least doesn't get bigger.

A week later (there was no way I could wait two) I went to my regular OB. I remember he said, "that's one healthy kid". He also said the baby looks to be 16 or 17 weeks, which was closer to what I thought my due date was so I was excited. He made a comment that when the placenta is separated from the uterus that early, it was likely a problem at conception rather than traumatic force-which is usually how it's caused.

Everything looked good but I couldn't shake what he'd said about a problem at conception. If the placenta didn't attach to the uterus, could other things have gone wrong?

For the next few weeks, I took it very easy. I still excercised, but barely anything more intense than a walk. I thought to myself that one day, when this baby is older, and realizes how much I love to work out and that I quit doing it just for him, he will know how much I loved him from the start.

Every mom who has been pregnant knows the baby growing inside takes over-every thought, every move, every morsel of food that goes in your mouth-nothing happens without giving thought to that baby. Well, with this baby I felt like that times 10. I wasn't only obsessed with being careful, but I was a worried mess. I thought of losing this baby and what I would do instead of being pregnant. I thought of how I would tell people.

I was consumed with everything that could go wrong.

So one night I prayed. And prayed. And prayed. I told Heavenly Father that I didn't know what was going to happen with this baby, but that I needed some peace in my life.

Almost immediately, things changed. I began to enjoy the pregnancy. The next day after my prayer I was cleaning the kitchen and I told my baby, "I want to keep you forever. I hope you're the last person who kisses me on the cheek before I die on my 100th birthday but if not I'm going to enjoy every minute I have with you."

Before my 19 week check up, my friend sent me a text. "How are you feeling? Anymore bleeding?" She had a placental abruption with two of her pregnancies and delivered them perfectly healthy, so she had been a great support to me. I responded to her: "No more bleeding! I'm actually feeling really good about things. Feeling excited for my appointment tomorrow rather than sick with nerves like the last few times."

Dave and I excitedly text back and forth the next day in anticipation of our appointment. I was going to ask my friend to watch Kendall and Maci but decided last minute to ask Kelly. Detmer was at a friends house and Allie was at dance.

At the appointment, my blood pressure was higher than it's ever been in my life. Just one more thing to make me think this is not going to be a smooth pregnancy.

 As soon as my baby popped up on the screen, I knew something was wrong.  I prayed hard for a last minute miracle.  Maybe I was having a nightmare.  But unfortunately this was real.  I knew my baby should not be laying so still. 

Dave took longer to realize it.  When the doctor said, "I'm not finding a heartbeat" Dave thought, "well then, look harder." 

For me the realization came quick.  Before I even had a chance to hold that baby in my arms, he was gone.
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