The Knitting Tree

The Knitting Tree is a beautiful way of remembering a lovely little girl named Marlo, and other babies who died too soon. If creative expressions of textile goodness are your thing, consider making something to celebrate my little love. It is incredibly beautiful and thoughtful and I can't wait to see it finished!

A Gift for My Girl

My little girl, the love of my life, was born still 76 days ago. She was 39 weeks and 2 days, and a gorgeous 8 pounds, 9 ounces. I cannot believe I have lived 76 days without her. Life has been full of challenges these past 11 weeks. It seems like with every step I take forward, I take 10 back and go home to lick my wounds and cry. The love that I have for my child is fierce and passionate and I would do anything to have her with me again. I still cannot believe it.

As it happens, I have a niece or nephew due to be born (alive, presumably, because I'm sure we took the tragic luck away from everyone in our path) in a few weeks, and a niece expected to enter the world in 4 months. Of course. And I'm supposed to be happy for them. I am. I'm just incredibly sad/jealous/miserable/depressed that my daughter didn't live a longer life. And of course this poses issues for my husband and me as we sit in the depths of grief. Nothing distracts me, so I think about every situation, and run every possible scenario for each situation (dinner out, weddings, birthday parties, family gatherings, work, etc). I am exhausted. Grief is exhausting. One such scenario is my internal debate of if I will or won't be invited to the baby showers of my sisters-in-law. With no sisters of my own, I don't have an ally in these situations.  It's just me, trying to not be an asshole.

So this week, my mental obsession is trying to come up with the perfect gift for these babies. A gift fun and creative enough that says I care. And nice enough that will hopefully give us a longer grace period for not being physically present in the lives of my niece(s)/nephew for awhile. These children are always going to be a few months younger than my little love, and I can't fathom how this is going to play out. For the rest of our lives. The good thing is they won't know that we will be an absent aunt and uncle for the beginning of their life. But with that, I feel guilt. I have enough damn guilt. Guilt for not being able to bring my baby into this world ALIVE (who knew you needed that codicil at the end of a sentence?), guilt for not giving my husband a breathing child... guilt never stops. But now, I have guilt for not being whole-heartedly happy for these unborn children because my sadness is so suffocating. So back to the gifts. These thoughts have been pounding through my head for weeks. I would love to craft something person, but the thought of knitting a baby gift for a baby other than my baby is paralyzing. And something off the registry just seems a little too impersonal for an aunt and uncle. Dammit.

I finally decided that part of the gift would be an engraved pewter cup. And all I can think of is that I want to see my child's name in something permanent. We didn't know if she would be a boy or a girl, and we weren't fully set on a name until we met her. The downside of this (this is an understatement) is that we never actually wrote her name anywhere, and the first time we did, it was on her cremation paperwork. The thought of having something with my baby's name on it is beautiful to me. But wait, why the hell am I worried about these other little babies when no one bought my baby anything? Seriously? I mean, I get it, who buys gifts for a dead baby, but I want a fucking engraved baby cup too. I want to see her name on something personalized. And why the hell am I worried about getting gifts for my niece(s)/nephew when my baby's aunts and uncles never bought her anything? Not even a damn card. How is that possible that I feel guilty over a gift for a child who is't in this world yet, when my little love got nothing? Her aunts and uncles can't seem to handle this, so they have chosen to be absent. Guess what, I can't handle this either. I am forced to.

Now, I understand why she got nothing. I understand that she is not alive, thus gets no gifts. But honestly, it isn't about a gift. I would give every material thing for the rest of my life for a living, breathing, cooing baby girl. But since she isn't, I don't want people to forget that she was real. I want her to be acknowledged as part of our family, not just my family. That she belongs to her aunts and uncles and grandparents and cousins also. At some point, I'd like to come up with a way for people to gift books to a homeless shelter, or equipment to a NICU, in my daughter's name. But right now, this is all too raw and painful, and all I want is her to get a present.

This was our fourth pregnancy, and we have no living children, so the anxiety that led up to her birth was immense, and led us to not buy anything or celebrate with friends and family. We did it to keep us as mentally stable as possible during pregnancy, but now, it just adds a layer of guilt to our experience. I think people just assume that gifts or things wouldn't be welcome. I think that they think that by not talking about our daughter, or acknowledging her presence, it makes it hurt less for us. I wouldn't know.

People seem to be avoiding us like the plague. Like childless lepers. Or even worse, a couple who can't bring a living child into the world.  I know it's because my world stopped and everyone else's keeps on turning, but damn it sucks.

I want my sisters-in-law to celebrate. To have parties and laugh and buy sweet things for their babies. And I want these babies to be showered with love and adoration. I can't wait to be happy enough to celebrate them. I just want mine to be celebrated also. Please don't assume that we don't want to talk about our babies, or look at their name, or get little reminders of them in the mail. We do. More than anything. And by showing a little bit of kindness, you will make me the happiest mommy that ever lived.

2 months- How am I alive?

2 months ago, January 11, 2016, the most beautiful baby in the whole universe was born to us. Wirh no heartbeat. The baby I have dreamed of for years.  The only baby I have ever wanted.  Even knowing how it turned out, I would do it all over just to spend another 9 months with you my sweet girl.

Evangeline, I have no idea how I have survived these past two months. It's March already? How is that possible? February was a blur. It seems like every day is a blur. I have nothing to look forward to except being able to cross off a day on the calendar. Hoping tomorrow will hurt less. That hasn't happened yet. I've been in a vortex of emotions and yet I seem to not be able to even remember anything in particular. This week was a hard one. We went out of town in hopes that a visit to a safe place would be filled with love and acceptance. And it wasn't. But I think of you every minute of every day. We got these beautiful bracelets made, and your Daddy and I have matching ones with a piece of your hair in them. So they are always with us and we feel you with us. I know you are always with us, but this is tangible.

Certainly I would prefer if you were giggling and cooing in my arms, but I can't have that, so I've got a bracelet. I feel very alone. I feel like people have forgotten about you, and forgotten how supremely sad and empty I am. I just want to talk about you and imagine all the things you would be doing... but instead I think about them. Not knowing who to talk to about you. I feel like everyone is busy with their own life and my sadness is just too unbearable for people. So we are sitting here in silence, missing you with our shattered hearts, watching crap on TV to pass the time. Nothing makes is better though little one, I think of you all the time.

I've heard a few stories recently from Mommies like me... Mommies that don't get to bring home their babies. But some of the Mommies don't even have the memories that I have with you. I have all these memories of what you looked like and your toes and your chubby little arms and your belly and your sweet chin. I inspected every inch of your body and laid you on my chest and imagined you breathing. I don't even remember Ebony and Benta taking pictures, but I am so very thankful to have them. I just stare at them sometimes, and it seems like every week I have a new favorite picture, which is really special. I don't get to take unlimited photos every day of you growing and changing. I have the photos that I have, and I will never have any more. But at least I have them. I just wish I could feel you again. Hold you and kiss you. Give you a snuggle. It is so hard, sweet girl. So hard to imagine continuing to live without you. Love you.

The delivery of Evangeline

Caitlin was in her bed in the delivery room. A team of nurses were hooking her up to the heart rate monitors. Caitlin's blood pressure was through the roof. The nurse instructed her to calm down and breathe. I followed her lead and kept having Cait breathe and tell her we could do this and how great she was doing. Another nurse checked to see how dilated Caitlin was. "Fully dilated" she said to another nurse. Dr. Prather is on the way another one said. Two nurses were putting on heart rate monitors to try and find the babies heart rate. No one mentioned to us what was going on at this time. I was instructing Cait to breathe, I held one hand. A nurse on the other side. We had just indicated to a nurse Cait was GBS positive so needed fluid. They got an IV going. At around 4am or Dr. Prather arrived. She came in an was calm and comforting. Cait cried in pain and told her something was wrong. Dr. Prather told her we would do everything we could and she was here for her. An older woman nurse indicated to Dr. Prather that Caitlin was fully dilated.  Dr. Prather then checked, said "no more like 10inches" then both her and the nurse checked the monitors. 

Prather then indicated she was going to use the probe to detect the babies heart rate. Cait was in such pain at this point. I watched as Dr. Prather calmly pulled out the probe I had only seen previously in our express birthing class. She put the probe in and went to check the monitor. It wasn't within about 10 seconds where everything in this room just went to the extreme. It all feels like a dream I can't remember it all but I do when I concentrate and close my eyes. I see Dr. Prather putting on her gown and instructing a nurse to get Cait some pain medicine for the push. I see a team of other nurses prepping a station across the room for the baby. I see the other nurse holding Cait's hand and telling her to be calm and it's time to start pushing. Then I see Caitlin starring at me with such pain and such tears in her eyes. I had feelings of nervousness, excitement, and worry. I wasn't ready for this, I told Cait to keep breathing, concentrate on my voice. I continued to watch the delivery room transform into a room full of about a dozen nurses and doctors. 

Once Dr. Prather was suited up she told Caitlin that not time to push yet but to wait. Prather then hopped down between Caitlin's leg like a ninja. She popped the sack of waters and water and meconium flew everywhere. I remember seeing some liquid hit the wall about 6 feet away. I saw meconium on the floor by my shoe and all over the bed. I began to worry. This didn't seem right. I looked back at the nurse holding Cait's other arm and she was frantically using her other arm to check heart rate. At this point I had to move out of the way for another nurse to hook up some pain medicine to Caitlin's iV. The nurse said "step aside for a moment dad". Then when done shortly after said "okay dad move back"

Prather told Caitlin it was time to push. I grasped her hand and told her she could do this. Caitlin was breathing hard and fast. I tried to instruct her but just found myself following her lead. I tried to keep calm. This was all within a minute of the water being broken. I then heard Dr. Prather say she had to start pushing. Then I saw Prather go for the clamps/tongs to help assist (a tool I saw only in our birthing class before). After 1 attempt or no attempt Prather then reached for the suction tool. Another tool I had only seen in class. I didn't know at this time what this all meant. That fucking class spent 5 minutes on these tools and passed them around the class. I completely blew them off at the time but I recognize them all now. Prather began to suction the babies head. Once in place I saw her begin to ump. She then instructed cait to push. 

I was holding Caitlin so tight. She squeezed my arms and hands with every push. The other nurse helped tremendously and trying to calm us both, I told Cait she was doing good and to keep breathing. I followed Prather and the nurses leads. Push! One by one! Come on Cait you can do this. push! breathe, take some deep breathes ....cait your doing it! Cait was pushing with all her heart, her face purple from pushing so hard. I watched both Prather and cait. I saw the head emerge. Then a shoulder. I said to myself this is it, man up, this our baby, help Cait, it's coming! Then another couple minutes of intense pushing and breathing and pushing and screaming. The other shoulder came out. Then Dr. Prather asked for one more big push! Cait grasped my hand so tight and I told her One  More! Then it happen, the baby was completely out and covered in merconium, some blood, other liquids, and in one fluid motion the baby in Dr. prather's hand turned and was flopped on Caitlin. I watched and saw the look on everyone's face all at the same time as the baby didn't move and was a dark purple color. Then there was no noise. No baby crying no one talking, just the sound of the heart rate monitor going crazy from Caitlin's pushing. This wasn't right. And then just as fast as the baby was laid on Cait, it was gone. Prather picked it back up and took it over to another station across the room that had a doctor and three other nurses around. I don't recall how much Caitlin got to hold the baby. But it was no longer than 30seconds. 

I looked back at Cait in such joy that she had done it! It was 4:14am just minutes after the water being broke and just minutes after getting to the hospital. I couldn't believe how great Caitlin did. I told her I was so proud. I am so amazed at how strong she was and how much of n amazing woman she is. Prather was telling Cait to remain calm and she had to clean and sew her up. The next few minutes were it for the feelings of joy I had just experienced. Everything I just witnessed was not joyous any more but very unrealistic. I thought it was a dream. I looked at Caitlin she kept saying "Dr Prather, Dr Prather, Dr Prather" .... I looked at the Doctor across the room working on our baby. I looked at Prather and she continuously worked on Cait while looking over to the other team across the room. This continued for minutes which felt like hours. Cait asked a nurse what it was , she didn't know. She then asked Prather and said it was a little girl. At this moment I heard both the announcement of a little girl and the other Doctor asking for 6cc's of something. I looked at Cait and grasped her head. We had a little girl. It's Evangeline.

We both knew it right away. That was her. Cait was crying and kept saying No Thomas.This isn't happening. No Thomas. I then heard the nurse doing CPR across the room. I watched. I prayed. I said "Come on Evangeline. Come on Evangeline. Please Lord." The room spun. It was still unrealistic. Prather hadn't said much in past couple mins as she repaired Caitlin. She did say they are working on her and that's about all I can remember.

I heard it again ... 6ccs of something. A nurse went t the cart behind and brought back a sureng to Evangeline. Caitlin was in disbelief and just kept saying my name "Thomas, Thomas,Thomas" I continued to watch everything all at once. I continued to pray. I began to cry a little when I heard them doing CPR again, I watched as it was performed and could see one of the nurses face over top of Evanageline. It was an expression of sadness. I saw the same look in Prather's face. And another nurse closest to me. I looked back at Cait we held each other's head so close. Saying come on Evangeline, come on Evangeline.

 I heard it again. CPR. Then another 6ccs of something. CPR. Prather was just sitting at the base of the bed watching now. Caitlin was asking me, everyone, what was going on. I just kept saying they working on her. They working on her. They....then all at once they all looked at the doctor. She turned and came over to the bed. I don't remember what the first words she said were but I remember what followed....

" your baby's heart was not beating and we have tried to revive her. We have been trying for 28 minutes and we have not been able to recicitate her. At this point I cannot continue...."

I wanted to scream at her! I wanted to yell No! keep trying! I looked at her in the eyes as she finished speaking and then looked at Cait. I couldn't believe this. I won't believe this. This isn't real. The doctor turned back and they began to pack up. I thought to myself ....28 minutes....that's it?! NO. Yell at them Thomas, this isn't right..... I saw the sadness in everyone's face. I watched in slow motion as Each one of the nurses slowly began to exit the room, hanging their heads and not saying a fucking word. No one did. It was just Cait saying No, and asking me if this happen. Cait kept asking Dr. Prather. Cait saying my name. I said her name , WHY Evangeline !  Why us! 

I prayed one last time and asked for this nightmare to end and let me wake up 18 hrs earlier on Sunday. It didn't work. It was real. It happened. Why!!!!!

So sorry for your loss

I already know that no one knows what to say or how to talk to us. I have learned that over the past few years. But damn. It is really unfortunate how people speak of life and death and everything in between. "So very sorry for your loss." I wish people would just stop at the "So very sorry" part and end with "We love you." Evangeline is not lost. She is not gone. She may be an angel but that doesn't really help right now. She is dead. She is not alive. Say it. Breathe it. But the word loss just completely undervalues these emotions I am feeling right now.  It also reinforces the overwhelming guilt I feel about pretty much everything. You may as well say that I killed her, because the fact that I "lost her" feels just as bad.  I feel guilt to the depth of my being that my body failed to protect my baby.  I don't need you to rub it in saying that I lost her.  It's like the word miscarriage. It implies blame on the person carrying.  I digress....

Own it. Speak it. Evangeline died.  We did not lose her.