Thinking of you - 6/24

I went golfing today for the first time in 2 years. I was worried about how to be social and how to play because golf is so mentally exhausting. I also really wanted to see what this HaydensHero's charity was all about.

Waking up early I told you goodbye like I do every morning. IT was 540am, so I was a bit out if it but thought about you on my way to golf. The one thing I've been thinking about for past 2 weeks is that "I will never see you smile". I don't know where I heard it but it has resignation with me recently for some odd reason. I can't quit thinking about that bold truth.

Today I knew, I knew , I knew someone would ask me if I had kids the more I opened up. I held myself back for 4 hours today before it happen. Just randomly and so much of a bullshit smalltalk question one of the 2 men I was golfing with just asked me out of the blue. . . "So , Thomas, You have any children? "

I didn't hesitate and said "um Yes, I do. A daughter. She would be 5 1/2 months old today. She was born still." The reaction was fine. "Oh, I'm so sorry" . But that was it. 3 2 more hours with this guy and not another word. Did he not think that now all I can think about was you?  Did he not think it was hard for me to be out in the world? Did he not even have a follow up question? Was he even sorry? 

The answer to all this was No. This has happened before and will continue to happen. It drives me fucking crazy. I can't believe that someone would not have a response but now I do. The world is full of just bullshit. People doing, acting, working, eating shitty food, being ignorant, being rude, it's the world. 

But it's the world I wish everyday you were breathing inot your pretty little body. I miss you so much Evangeline. My strength grows but also weakens. I don't know what else to do but yell you that I love you. I'm so sorry. Not these random people that say their sorry. I'm sorry. They don't know shit. 

I love you Evangeline.

RUE DE LA COURSE-5months

I'm sitting a top of the RUE in the city I love thinking of the past 5 months with an iced coffee. It's a 90 degree muggy June day in New Orleans and 7 months since we last visited. The last time we were here we had Evangeline with us although no one knew it. We saw our good friends and we're not comfortable telling the world about Evangeline yet. We didn't even call her a baby or a real name. Her name was Devonta then and we had such different plans for our baby.

I should be sitting here right now with a little 5month old daughter wearing the onesie  I bought you on our last visit. It was a onesie with a street car and the only real gift I let myself buy Evangeline. There was other things like a car seat or nuna crib on black Friday but nothing that I felt that I wanted my baby to have such like a onside from New Orleans. 

I tried numerous other times to buy more but never pulled the trigger. I put wvu, super hero, saints, and wrestling onsies in carts online on a weekly basis at work for those last couple months anticipating our babies arrival. Now I think about it all. I don't know how I got to this point. I don't know how Caitlin got to this point. 5 months since Evangeline died.

I walked to to RUE today from our Green street home and just gazed at the houses and the life of this city. As I caught myself dreaming of a big house on south Carrollton full of kids a woman pulled up to the stop sign next to me with some reggae-ish music blarring. Then she looked at me and smiled and turned it up louder and began dancing in her drivers seat. I looked away because I am used to people in D.C. not caring about the world around them and being so self occupied. Then I realized I wasn't in Northern Virginia. As I looked back she pointed at me as if knew I waneed to join her but she didn't she was just enjoying some WWOZ on a Friday! I broke a smile and realized life is happier in this city. 

After crossing street and got in RUE I almost began to cry thinking of the past 5 months of anger, sadness, depression, and grief. Again wondering how did we make it this far. 5 Months!  Almost half a year.  

Thinking about what I couldn't do 3 months ago I feel horrible as a 31 year old man. What would life have been like if we never left New Orleans and Tulane? Would I be there still? Maybe. Would we have our own rental place, yes. Should I have taken that damn job as merchandise man at saints. Yes! Then no ticketmaster, not northern Virginia, no remote wedding, no bullshit traffic, no learning software, none of it. Would we still have 4 pregnancies end in a loss ? ? I don't know. Maybe so, but I don't believe in hope or fate any more because all of that has been shattered for me over past 3 years.

What I do know is that we just bought a house in Fairlington for $500,000. This seems so Ludacris but we did it. I know we are now tied to this area for at least 2 years. We have two more frozen embryos in Arlington and need them to work. Damnit there I go hoping again...nothing has really worked why would these two? Why plan our life around hope? I can't stop thinking about 5 months ago today I was dumb and weak and let this tragedy happen to Evangeline that night. Why the fuck did I act like it was a false alarm. Why the hell did I read that stupid rush course pregnancy manual again again and not go to the hospital sooner. I don't care what doctors say but in my mind if we were there sooner there would be a better chance to save her life. 

I can't quite tell how Caitlin is feeling these days. I know she is thinking same about 5months ago but I also know she needs a baby. I need to get back to me 1 year ago. Strong, decisive,  confident and make this happen. I have my own time to grieve for everyday for the rest of my life. But to support Caitlin I need to be the man that I know I can be for her. If that is with pregnancy again or with adoption or with life. We need to be here in New Orleans again one day and that needs to be in our plan.

5 months. 

4 months

My sweet little boo.

You are 4 months old today. It feels like I have lived a thousand lifetimes.  Aching to see and hold and feel you just one more time. Wishing I could see your beautiful eyes light up, and hear you make precious little noises.

It is my job to share the story of your brief little life for the rest of mine. I will do that with every breath I ever take.  My heart skips every other beat, as I am filled with the pain of not having you in my arms.

I celebrate you today my love.  Your sweet friends Adam and Becca brought me Rice Krispy Treats on Mother's Day... what a way to celebrate me, with one of your favorite foods. I wasn't able to eat them on Sunday because I was too wrecked with sadness, but I ate two today... one for each of us, and I thought of you with every bite. They don't taste as good as when I ate them with you.  I remember those nights that I would put a few marshmallows in a bowl with butter and microwave it, and then add a pour of Rice Krispies and mix it all up and eat it. You made me! A simple thing, but one of the thousands that will make me think of you forever and ever.

I love you.

Stupid Mothers Day

It sucks. I've been sick all week about Mothers Day. I can't escape it. Even the Voice, my only baby free tv show, had a segment of the contestants with their moms. I cannot escape it.

I know that I did nothing wrong, but I also feel incredibly guilty every single minute that I didn't bring a live baby into the world. How is it possible that everyone else can have a baby and I can't? It would make everything so much easier. Instead of being heartbroken and in such pain, I'd be the happiest mom around.  But no, now our grief is making a mess of our lives and our role in our families. 

We are drowning and lonely and forever changed. Forever we will have a dead baby.

Why should people celebrate me, when I can't bear to celebrate myself?  I'm devastated. I don't deserve any love on Mothers Day. I couldn't protect Evangeline and feel incredibly guilty for that.  The constant reminders and blame make it really hard to stomach. I should be reminded of what a wonderful mother I am, but why and how and I don't understand make it really hard to feel supported and believed and validated.

I don't get it. I don't want anything for me. I want Evangeline to be loved and remembered.  As our daughter, a friend, a niece, a granddaughter and a sweet gorgeous baby. Just because she is dead doesn't mean she doesn't deserve pretty things or thoughts or love. But people don't get that. They make assumptions every day and we are left to fend for ourselves. It's awful.

What do you do for a dead baby aka Holidays are rough.

16 weeks and 4 days of straight hell.

This past Sunday was Thomas' Easter. We sent Easter baskets to our niece and nephew and got back very nice and thankful responses and told how thoughtful we are as an Aunt and Uncle.  And I was filled with rage. Where are Evangeline's aunts and uncles. Not one of them acknowledged her on Easter. She was supposed to have an Easter basket too. A sweet little dress that worked well with her ginger curls. No curls at birth but I know they would be getting curly just about now.  

I'm miserable about this. Just because she's dead doesn't mean she doesn't deserve a gift.  Rationally, I understand why a dead baby doesn't get a gift, but don't we need them more than live babies do?  Not an anonymous blanket or dress, but having something thoughtful for her would be so helpful.  It would secure her place in our life... in our family.  We are so afraid that her life will not be remembered, because where we are right now, it doesn't feel like she is remembered.  What does the long term look like?

She never got any parties or pretties or rites of passage because we were so afraid something would happen.  I know that Evangeline needed sane and calm parents to keep her alive those 9 months, but I do wish that we had been able to celebrate her outwardly.

Suggestions could be dedicating a tree or a bench, planting a garden, adopting an animal at the zoo, giving a donation in her name, paying for trees to be donated to a National Forest in her name, donating books to a library in her name, so many thoughtful things that exist.  The key is... doing something in Evangeline's name.  Celebrating her. Allowing one more person to know that she existed.

We adopted a flamingo at the National Zoo for her for Orthodox Easter.  I ache to see my Evangeline's name in print.  The first time we saw it was on her cremation certificate. The first time I wrote it was on the cremation paperwork. I need to change this story for us and for her.

My advice... take 30 seconds out of your day to reach out to us. You have no idea how special that would be for us.  Then go back to avoiding how uncomfortable this all is. We get to face it head on all day every day.  So sorry this is too much for you to handle. This wasn't our plan either.

Thoughts

I have been back to work now for 51 full working days. That is approximately 8 hours a day. It has been 97 days since Evangeline died. Over that time I wish I would have written more of what I was thinking on days. I wish I would have captured the depths of grief and the emptiness of sadness that I felt each day. I wanted to write things but just didn't pull myself up to this screen and type. I did take some notes in Evernote and on my notebook. I carry the same blue knockoff Moleskin that Ticketmaster gave me to every meeting. I have some sketches in it, I have stupid meeting notes. But today during a meeting I was bored in I browsed through some pages and found some things that I jotted down that must have been on my mind.

"Did the universe really hand pick us to not have a baby ?" 

"Why give the universe that much credit?"

"Adoption: we knew when we saw her she was us, do we just want a kid to hold, to crawl up in our arms? Will it work?"

"Underwood, told him a week before Evangeline about not waiting to get married and pressure of having kids for woman, what is he doing now? Should I tell him to get married, should I tell other's to get married and not wait, this doesn't get any easier?"

"How do I help Cait? How do I help me? "

"People don't know what I'm doing? What am I doing? Why?"

Some of these random thoughts I jotted down for some particular reason at that day/time. Some I may have just forgot what I was thinking and wanted to note it. I know at times in meetings my brain wanders and I almost cry. I have cried a few times in meetings and normally pull my hat down or turn towards window and just stare out in a daze. I don't know if anyone notices, I assume not since no one has said anything to me. Well not like it would matter. No one has really said shit to me anyway at work. 

The first week or two back at the office some people said the "I'm so sorry" or asked how I was doing (different blog post) or asked how Cait is doing. For the first 30 days or so back at work I felt bad pretty much 100% of the time and knew that I had work to just focus on and get things done. Everyday to or from work I would cry for a little bit. I would listen to a wrestling podcast to keep my mind from wondering to Evangeline, to Caitlin, or to me. It was inevitable. It has been 51 days back at work but still every day I walk outside on way to my car and just hang my head. I let the weight of the world just crush me down. I don't want it. I don't care. I want to feel it. I sit in my car for a few minutes and look at the damn GPS. Then want to scream, or cry or just not move. I pull my shit together and drive. I find myself wanting to call people at times but a majority of the time I don't. I want to just get home to Caitlin. 

I hate it. I hate coming to work for the past 51 days and leaving her at home. I hate that I can't help. I hate that family and friends don't help. Every fucking day we are living this, other people can't take an hour of their damn days and talk to us? Talk to Cait? Let her be mad, let her be sad and not offer their fucking opinions or not talk about their problems or how sad they are? This is such bullshit. I sit here all day and look at introverted people do boring work that they don't know what it does to or for the consumer. I have given up really caring about trying to get other's in the office to understand that. I have bigger issues. I am waiting for the day that someone asks me in a meeting "what's wrong?" when I am being angry or loud about some stupid code or some stupid process. 

It happened once. I was getting coffee in the middle of 5 people and I had my head down, hat backwards and really didn't give a shit. I walked in got my coffee and while I was waiting Steve asked, how's things going? I responded "not well". His response was fine but I came back with "Life Sucks" and the room went silent. I walked out like a dropping the pipe bomb. It felt good to say how I actually felt. I rarely get the opportunity or rarely feel anyone cares. Except for David.

I know he wants to say something. I want to say something to him at times. He has but I don't know if he is just being cautious or just can't handle it. Everyday he is first person I see. He always asks how's it going or something along those lines. I am usually pretty honest with him because I just spent 50 minutes to an hour in the car and don't fall into a canned work friendly response. Yesterday he asked how my weekend was....I replied with "eh, not so good" He said he was sorry to hear that and asked if did anything. I paused for a minute and said "yes, we went to a beer festival, it was nice, I drank too much and got very upset and sad. Then Sunday we spent a couple hours planting things in pots on our patio and then watched some crappy movies, so no. I didn't really do anything". His response was "i'm sorry to hear that" I could tell he wanted to ask more. He didn't I let it go. I then made a coffee and came back to his desk and asked how his weekend was and what he had planned this week. I listened to him talk about his family and just how nice it sounds. I just want that so bad for Caitlin and I. I want to be the good dad that does stupid stuff for their kids that just helps them with homework and coaching and driving them around. Unfortunately for some reason the fucking Universe, the fucking world, doesn't want that for us. 

Outside of work, family and friends ask if there is anything they can do for me or for Caitlin. Every single one of them that has asked me that in past 3 weeks I have asked to reach out to Caitlin and let her know they are thinking about her, me and Evangeline. That's it. Don't offer advice. Don't offer opinion. But it keeps backfiring. I don't know if it makes things worse for us to hear from someone for the first time in 2 -3 weeks or if it makes it easier. But I know people are listening some. It really makes me think about the documentary for "Don't talk about the baby". People don't want to talk about this. Either they can't or they just don't know what to say. I felt this before we went and shot our part of the interview. Maybe this is what I need to do? Maybe I need to be the one to change the culture. This documentary has the right idea but do they really have what it takes to get it done? Are they even helping out the men trying to help their wives? Should I talk to other guys? Maybe I should reach out to some of these husbands that wives are talking to Cait about loss. Maybe they feel the same? Or maybe they can't handle it either and go back to work and sit and just daze and keep their mind busy? I don't have any answers for this. I know we need support. I know that support really sucks right now. I know we may never get the support we need or want or expect. I just have to keep trying. 

Sunday - Am I doing this right?

I woke up at 9am on Sunday January 10^th. The only thing I had on my mind was my recently departed Grandmother, Siti Lila. This Sunday was her 40 day memorial in my church back in Charleston, West Virginia. I debated traveling home for just the day all week but knew I could not because Caitlin was very close to delivering our baby. So close that on Saturday night of the 9^th we packed a bag to get ready to have it on standby. I didn’t have much in the bag. I went through a check list from the Express Birthing Class we took in a 6 hour jam session. The main things off the list and in my mind I had covered: Change of clothes for both of us, deodorant, tooth paste, tooth brush, some snack bars, chargers for phones, recently purchased Ipad for this occasion, and a bag of $10 in quarters. Every guy I talked to said they just brought a ton of change for vending machines. I didn’t really understand why since we live in 2016 and machines take Credit Cards, but maybe not in everyone’s hospital. The last item I packed in the bag was Caitlin’s DSLR Camera. I charged the battery regularly all week to be sure it was charged and ready. I found a memory card with tons of space. I had the camera in the top of the bag and ready to go. This Sunday Morning I checked the bag first thing and then went to make a french press pot of coffee. I messed around in kitchen doing odd things for an hour or so then fired up my computer to live-stream the St. George church service to see Siti’s 40 day memorial service.

It was around 10:30 am and couldn’t get the feed to load properly. I repeated several times, tried different browsers, different devices, everything I knew and determined it wasn’t turned on yet. Okay, so I waited until 11am. Nothing yet. I texted people I knew were at church, my sister and brother. My sister responded said she wasn’t sure what was wrong with it. I texted my cousin Kristin to see if she happen to be watching. She said she wasn’t but tried and got same message. So I knew something was wrong on the churches end and not with my computer or device. I sat for about 20 minutes chatting with Kristin via text. She asked how Caitlin was doing, how I was doing, if we were excited? I explained how we have been waiting to tell anyone for so long that now it is almost here and just starting to get more and more excited. I also told her I thought we were ready. At this point of 30 minutes of no feed from St. George I gave up. I felt so sad I couldn't be there for my Siti but knew she would understand why. About this time is also when I remembered talking to co-worker earlier in the week.

My office had not known about our pregnancy and they through a surprise shower just a week prior with cake and gift cards. After the little shower my co-work stopped me in the kitchen and asked if I was ready. Same question I was getting more often now people knew how far along we were. I said same I had just told Krisitin except she recommended downloading a contraction timer. I hadn’t done it yet so while I was sitting starring at the broken feed from church, I searched for the app. The one thing my co-worker told me is they are all the same but one of them tells you when it is important to go to the hospital when contractions within the 5 -1- 1  range. Less than 5 minutes apart , lasting one minute in length and  same repetition for 1 hour. I didn’t find that app.  I just grabbed the first one I saw , “Contraction Timer”. I opened it , looked pretty straight forward. Ok cool, I’m set. 

Another 30 minutes went by and Caitlin woke up with a craving for pancakes. She had these cravings every weekend and made some pretty decadent pancakes. More butter than the normal human, but they are just pancakes, they needed butter. So as she was preparing I complained about how the feed was not working. I tried so hard to will it to work and everything I could for my Siti but no avail. I was pretty bummed that I couldn’t get it to work. I thought about Siti all morning.  Caitlin told me while we were eating she thought some liquid was coming out. We were always cautious with this entire pregnancy so she called the on-call OB. They suggested to come in for a visit. I believe it was Dr. Prather whom Caitlin talked to on phone. We weren't certain on Caitlin's water be broken and she wasn't in too much discomfort with no signs of contractions. So we took our time. Put away dishes from breakfast and then grabbed the bag. I made sure we had everything. I was a bit anxious as I thought this was it, the time we are going to hospital. Caitlin told me once or twice to chill out or relax, this is just to check. I kept my emotions in and got to business.

I knew my route to the hospital. I studied it, I practiced it. I knew there was exactly 4 stop signs then 9 stop lights. Last time I practiced it I could do it in less than 15minutes. I thought this would be a good chance to practice. I joked with Caitlin in the car about how to breath and to stay calm. I made it to the hospital in 14 minutes at roughly 2:30pm. This was wild card Sunday so I knew the playoffs were on and Redskins game specifically, so traffic should’ve been tamed with people watching the game. Once we got to the hospital we only knew from hearsay where and what to do. So we pulled up and I drove around the entrance twice trying to figure out where to park. I grabbed a spot reserved for Clergy. It was Sunday, I figured we’d be okay for a little while there. I left the bag in the car and we walked inside. Security man at counter said to go to Delivery Floor. We went up an elevator and walked down the hall to a locked door. Nurses had to look at the monitor or window and buzz you in. We then walked down to check in.

They strapped Caitlin up to heart monitor’s for herself and her stomach. Caitlin’s blood pressure was very high. I wasn’t worried but just figured she was and that’s why it was high. So I stayed calm. I sat down in a chair and found the football game on a crappy 18” hospital tv. A nurse named ____ was with us most of the day monitoring Caitlin. We ended up staying in the hospital for 3 hours before we both were starving again.Caitlin's high blood pressure lasted for about 2 hours before it started going down. The nurse instructed her to lay on her side and it may help.It did and she was starting to go back down to normal rate.  It was around 5pm and hadn’t ate since the pancakes in the morning. They ran some more tests on Caitlin and then kept monitoring her blood pressure. It seemed to drop back to normal and had a sign of a contraction but nothing major. The woman who examined Caitlin said she was at 1cm dialated and +4 so the baby had a long way to go. At that time I thought to myself..." oh good now we can plan a little bit. Can get Kim here, Caitlin’s mom, can get food tonight and can see where we are in the morning."  Our car had been in the Clergy parking spot for about 3 hours so I left Caitlin and walked down the hall and towards the locked door the nurses buzzed me in earlier. I found a window and looked outside.I didn't have to fool with going out and in the locked door. I saw the car. All Good. I went back to Caitlin and didn’t have to deal with nurses or the door again …until later.

After another hour or so we asked if was okay to leave. Then about 30 minutes later they said was okay to leave. We both were starving so made a pretty quick exit from the hospital. We went to Taylor Gourmet to get some Sandwiches. At this point the Seahawks had already beat the Vikings and the Redskins were on already. I thought that this was good timing for football traffic after the game and getting food.  We went to Taylor Gourmet and they were out of bread and chicken, the main reason we went!  So we were upset and went home. We heated up some leftovers and Cait said she wasn’t feeling too good so went to lay down. It was around 8:30pm when I said I would go over to the store to get some essentials so we could make some nachos. Nachos had been our other go to item for the past 9 months. I went to Safeway. Bought some cheese and onions and few other things. I looked for some beer, thought I didn’t need it, walked around shopping for about 40minutes. I returned home and Caitlin was getting in the tub and saying she really wasn’t feeling good and thought contractions were starting. I maintained my emotions, just like earlier and thought to my self this is it! Caitlin called her mom and told her to come, she found a flight and was on first flight out of Florida at 5am. The next 2 hours are very blurry. I made nachos, Cait was in the shower. I pulled Nachos out, no Cait. I went upstairs and she was in pain and laying in tub. She had started a contraction timer. They were intense. She had downloaded the same contraction timer I had. I grabbed her phone and helped time the contractions. I looked. Oh Shit! 5-1-1, this is telling us we need to go. They have been going on for about an hour and lasting for around 40 seconds to a minute plus and less than 4 minutes apart. Okay, I thought. Stay calm. We are going to do some birthing at home. We don’t want to go sit at hospital for 13hours. The baby was so high earlier and no way this was time to go.

I got Cait out of the tub and downstairs. I tried to eat some nachos and help her. The pain got worse. It was about 11:00 when we decided to call the OB again. Dr. Prather answered. Cait explained the contractions, the pain, and Dr. Prather said if she was able to talk and have a conversation then we are okay and to wait and come in. Okay I thought, we are doing this right. Following the birth at home strategy. I then found the Express class pamphlet/guide we got at the 6hour crash course. I re-read every page to refresh my memory. Tried to get Caitlin to do some breathing and positions. The pain was too much. Back to the tub we went. I brought some nachos upstairs in hopes she would eat and feel better and if we got these contractions under control. I then had my phone at this time. I opened the same Contraction Timer app from earlier in the day.  I started watching the contractions on my phone at January 10 at 11:13 pm. Cait was in the tub screaming and grabbing my hand. For the next 50 minutes I watched my phone so hard. Okay 40 seconds, 2:49 apart, next one 45 seconds, 4 mins apart, next one 1 minute, 2 minutes apart. This maintained the same for 50 minutes. (Below are the times for the record. In case one day they help this day events unfold)

START	DURATION	INTERVAL
11:13:44	:55
11:17:06	1:00	3:21
11:19:55	:39	2:49
11:22:06	:39	2:11
11:26:12	1:09	4:05
11:28:16	:43	2:03
11:30:43	:46	2:27
11:33:14	:41	2:30
11:35:58	:52	2:43
11:38:31	1:07	2:33
11:42:17	:46	3:45
11:46:21	:47	4:04
11:48:49	:59	2:28
11:51:26	:39	2:37

I was worried we were doing this all wrong. I didn’t know what to do. I grabbed that damn manual from the express class again. 5-1-1 I read it again. The entire section. I read it again. I flipped the pages vigorously looking for a damn answer what to do. Nothing. I thought to myself   Okay, we are way less than 5 -1-1 and not quite at 1 minute long, we have to go. But wait, we were just at hospital 4 hours ago and had such a long way to go in this delivery. Okay let me check next chapter in this damn book. Oh yes, here it is , birth at home can last for hours. Ok let’s concentrate on doing some of these things. I got Cait out of the tub around midnight. We went downstairs and stopped every 2 -3 minutes for the contractions. We tried laying. We tried pillows. We tried stretches. We tried hot towels. We tried cold towels. We tried the floor. We tried the steps. Nothing was making this feel any better for her. Caitlin was cursing me and saying crazy things. This was it. It was time. She called her mom again in pain. Her mom laughed a bit and said she knew and that this was what it is like. Okay I thought. We got to stick this out. We knew Dr. Prather was off at 2 am or 3 am so we said let’s try the tub again and see if we need to call before she goes home. Same process. It took 30 minutes to get into tub and then I started my app again.

It was 1:16 am. Contractions were 40 seonds, 2 mins apart, then 30 seconds and 4 mins apart, then back to 49 seconds and 3mins apart. I watched my phone telling Cait it was okay, we could do this, we were doing it. I panicked a bit after another 40minutes of same contractions I saw earler.

1:16:59	:47	1:25:32 (last time I used my phone)
1:18:21	:39	1:22
1:20:26	:38	2:05
1:22:23	:31	1:56
1:24:47	:50	2:23
1:26:42	:46	1:54
1:28:24	1:01	1:42
1:31:42	1:01	3:18
1:33:56	:52	2:14

Okay this is it what are we doing. This is fucking dumb. We are sitting here in our bathtub in pain. I’m not a doctor. What am I thinking. We need to go to hospital now. At 1:40am or so I believe, Cait called Dr. Prather again. We are going to come in. She said come in and we will monitor you and get you going. Okay. Now it's time after all day of false alarm and thinking I was right, thinking I was wrong, this is it for sure! I was excited. Time to meet the little one that's been causing pain for months and all evening. It was such a long process but it was finally time. Okay time to be the man Thomas, let's go!

It took an hour to get Cait out of the tub, pants, clothes, down the steps. The pain was so intense. She was trying so hard to move in between the contractions. It took another 30 minutes or so to get to the car. I then put her in and ran back inside and got the bag, our phones, and another bag Cait had prepared. I ran to car. Cait was screaming. She said get pillow and blanket. I ran back in house got it. Oh shit did I ever turn off oven from nachos. I ran to kitchen, still on. Got it. Okay back to car. It was now about 3:40 am. This is it Thomas, I thought, hit your route, no one on road. GO!

I held Cait's hand at times and let her squeeze the life out of it as I raced through Fairlington. Got to get through these stops signs first. I barely stopped at each one of them, it was sometime after 2:30am. I got to the bottom of the hill and the first stop light, green. Next Stop light Green. Up Walter Reed Rd to top of hill. Next Stop light Red. Screw it. Checked my left right and blew right through the Red light. Made it to the next stop light at Columbia Pike. They had Cameras here, but I could see the red light and only a few seconds on the crosswalk. I stopped. Looked at Cait, she was in such pain. Told her we are on way. Stay calm. Keep breathing. Okay next few stop lights I don't know what happen, the car ride was intense, I was floating through Arlignton pushing our Rav4 to the max. I blew through the last two red lights within the block the hospital was on and came to a screeching stop at the front door. I don't know how long it actually took to get to the hospital but after re-thinking about this night I knew it was no more than 10 minutes. A security guard came out the door and barely spoke english and asked if we need a wheel chair, I said YES! PLEASE!. I proceeded to help Cait out of the car. it took a few minutes to get her in the door and she had to stop at the front counter in pain. The security guard had a shit -grin on his face and said "no wheelchair" go on upstairs. Thanks jerk. 

I helped Cait on to the elevator and up to the delivery floor. We got to the locked door and Cait was breathing so hard, a nurse buzzed us and instantly looked for a wheel chair. Cait got one and they helped wheel me to the check-in. The nurse at the check-in stopped us and I didn't have shit on me, no bag, no wallet, no id, nothing. Neither did Cait. I had the pillow. That's it. I told the nurse we were here at 4pm earlier today and left at 8, can you look us up. At same time the nurse pushing Cait said we don't have time for this and pushed her to delivery room. We arrived into a delivery room at around 3:30am. A nurse stopped the three of us as we were getting out of the wheel chair and asked if we mind moving rooms because she had one on the otherside of the floor ready to go. Cait said what ever, I said nothing, the other nurse just gave this nurse a death stare, like "ARE YOU KIDDING".  We stayed in this room. I went with Cait in the bathroom and go her un-dressed and helped her back to the bed. There was a team of about 4 nurses in the room at this time getting everything ready. 

I thought to myself as we got Caitlin in the bed...We have been waiting for this night for 3 years. 3 other pregancies that never got this far. 3 other times I thought I'd be doing this, coaching Caitlin, telling her to just breathe, to squeeze, to yell, to do it all. This was the time for it. We got Caitlin up in the bed and for first few minutes I just told her to be calm and followed the nurses lead. The next 12 hours I will never forget, I can't, I don't want to. But to think back at how I started this day worried about my Siti and now the only thing I can think about Sunday January 10th is did I do this right? 

Another baby another disapointment

Monday morning I decided to call my brother Doug after a week of him trying to contact me. The previous week I hadn't heard from him at all. The week before that was last time I spoke to him on phone. So it had been a solid 15 days since we last talked. Oh, he did send me 1 text after/during Wrestlemania about a wrestler that I don't like. I responded and said that. Not sure how he knew about Wrestlemania but that was last time I heard from him before a week of silence. Then last week he sent a big text message to me about being busy with a home show and wanted to talk. I didn't reply. My brother sends these 400 word text messages that I assume take him 30 minutes to construct and edit. Mindful that the edits he make do not correct spelling, but I've seen him construct these texts. He spends 10 mins looking at his phone and trying to craft this perfect message. Unfortunately I am so over these 400 word texts that I see one come in on my phone I look and then don't bother reading it until the next day. I am one for communication in our world and using social media, email, whatever....but he has kind of ruined text messages for me. So I got a long text on Monday a week ago. I didn't read.

Later that day when I got home from work I found out that Caitlin had talked to Marisa and expressed some of our sadness, loneliness, and anger that we have felt over the past 3 months and how none of my family has reached out. Ah, that makes sense, now I have a 400 word text message to because she said something to him about her and Cait's conversation. So I read the message. Blah Blah blah.......
Point of all this is that I recieved mutliple calls and messages over the couse of 4 days last week and never really gave my brother the time of day. I told him "thanks for checking, life sucks, how's things coming with your pregnancy?" just general.

So Monday this week I thought something is up he's been trying for days to get a hold of me and it's definitely not to help us out since he continuously asks "how we are doing!?!?!?" Our baby died 3 months ago, how the FUCK do you think we are doing?

Monday's phone call was exactly what I expected, news about them and not good news. He was hesitant and talked about some employee of his stealing from him that he had to fire and asked for my advice, I made up some stuff I learned at a leadership training and passed that on. Then I tried to explain how hard Saturday was for us and drinking all day and going to a soccer game and it ended horribly then explained that Sunday we just sat and did nothing. He didn't have much of a response but that he knew we were doing something and hoped it was fun. Then it came the part that I knew why he had been asking to talk to me so much in past week after 2 weeks of radio silence. His pregnancy was being moved up to this week. 3 weeks ahead of time and needed to tell me. The reason for the move was "Her fluid levels have dropped each week in the check ups and want to be safe to do it now and that the Doctor is on Vacation next week". I took a deep breath and did best I could to not let on actual feelings. I am writing about it now to try and capture these feelings. I explained to him on the phone that we knew this day was coming and I asked if he was ready. He told me friends came over to setup crib or something and do other shit, I was really paying attention at this point I was just thinking about how everyone would treat us now. I then asked how Marissa was doing if she was ready. I told him good luck and thanks for calling. He cried a bit and said he knew last week (thus the reason for reaching out all week) and was trying to find a good time to tell me and how to tell me. I think telling me was not an issue. I handled the news fine. Doug was very hesitant at first but just said that he had no other way to say it so just going to say it. I liked that approach and wish more people were that with us and with talking about Evangeline. Unfortunately my family and friends can't do that. No on seems to do that. People don't know what is okay to say or what isn't and they don't say anything and let me and Cait do this on our own. Fuck now I was upset again. I had already got off the phone and was driving home. I debated calling Caitlin right away. I paused. I pulled off the road and sat for a minute in a random neighborhood to think. All Doug kept saying were her fluids were low. Does he even know what Amniotic Fluids do? Fuck why does this have to be so hard. I texted Doug and told him to not send cait any messages I will tell her later tonight. Not like he would anyway but just in case Cait had already contacted him or Marissa just randomly. I wanted to be one to tell her.

I drove home and talked to Cait about Will being in town then let her know I talked to Doug. I don't know how she was exactly feeling at this moment but I know I was felt so depressed. Whatever I said and did with Cait we both came to the agreement that we want to be good aunts and uncles and now no one will remember Evangeline and no one will honor what we are going through. This fear was coming and I ignored it to not get too down on myself. I don't know why I was so tired but I just fell asleep on the couch after a 20mins of the Voice.

Tuesday morning I woke up , did my normal routine, went to work , went for a run, got shit done at work, Left work a little early to get home early, hit traffic and decided to get Pita bread and Middle Eastern treats, came home to no Cait, then just kind  of watched tv and ate dinner til fell asleep again. Tuesday was a bit of a daze. I didn't feel upset, I didn't feel sad. Just numb.

Wednesday I woke up, did my normal routine, went to work, had an appointment to sign some docs for buying a house, then when I was done I saw a text from Teresa. It said "Hi Meat, Mom just called me, Marisa is being admitted today. Haven't heard from Dougie though. Just thought I'd let yo know" I replied because on Monday Doug had told me that he already told everyone else and didn't know how to tell me so I asked "didn't you already know? Dougie told me Monday morning about it" At this point I was driving down Fairfax Country parkway towards Whole Foods, I was going to pick up a salad. I was laughing because I realized that Doug had lied to me and didn't tell Teresa the plan yet to go in on Wednesday and stay for the delivery on Thursday. Teresa then replied " I knew it they were suppose to go Thursday But she went to doc this morning for checkup and he took her today" I replied "what's the reason? Like is she delivering today or tomorrow still? At this point I had pulled into parking lot at Dick's next to Wholefoods and waited for a response.

"Amniotic fluids are real low..Delivering today trying to see what time they can fit them in for surgery...." I didn't know what to say in response. I got out of the car and walked around Dick's aimlessly. I read the message again. I thought about it and just said " I hope nothing bad happens. " I walked outside and when the air hit my face I began to cry. I couldn't control it. It just came all at once. There was a group of workers from some near by office building I assumed walking toward Whole Foods. They all had red shirts on for Caps Game 4 tonight. Must have been dress casual day or something for Caps. I blew right through the middle of their informal walking line and to my car. I sat and just smashed my head into the steering wheel. I looked out my window to the right and a tall black man was smoking a cigarette with a shit ass grin on his face. He was just chilling on his lunch break from doing some type of laborious work and looking at my direction. I turned my head back down and started the car. I then sent a text to Teresa "What am I supposed to do? "

I didn't know the answer to the question, I don't even know why I would ask her that but I did. She replied with "what do you mean? What would you like to do?" I waited a few minutes contemplating what I wanted to do. I wanted to just fuck something up. I thought about going into Dick's and buying a bat and breaking something. I thought about going straight to the driving range and hitting the shit out of golf balls. I wanted to so bad to just RAGE! Then I looked in mirror and saw I was just sitting in my car crying. I responded with some of the built up rage  "with any of it. I can't tell doug to not tell me things he probably won't cause he's afraid to talk to me or cait. Just like everyone else. No one talks to us now, now with this happening it's just going to be worse. Or he will not consider us and just do what he wants and still make this harder. I don't know how I'm supposed to handle any of this!"

At that point that was 100% shoot. I use that term because it is a wreslting term for "real life" or "not fake". Wrestlers refer to their real name as "Shoot" or when they have a real injury/surgery that is the "shoot". They use the term in talking because their characters and personas on TV and in the ring are just an extension of themselves and they can't turn it off at times. So in conversation they say 100% Shoot instead of using the term "honest to god" or "that's the truth". I find it so fitting for my world right now because every day like Tuesday when I go through my work and don't remember anything significant has been a hazy dream. Almost not real. I feel that I put on a fake smile, a fake laugh, a fake persona and just act like everything is going great and who you see is who I am. So at this moment I was 100% shoot with my sister. I didn't hold back I didn't sugar coat it. I literally said what I was thinking. It made me feel better. I stopped crying and just drove to work.

Fuck me. I pulled up at the exact time John was walking outside to go to lunch. He wanted to go with me to do 1 on 1. I knew he wanted to cause he has been all bitch mode recently. I reluctantly said okay and went to Janes Deli. I know we talked at lunch about work a lot. I didn't let him talk or ask about me or Cait. I didn't want his opinion. I caught my mind wandering about Doug's news. Came back from lunch and Doug had sent me a text. Told me they were going in for surgery/delivery wanted to let me know. I appreciated that.

For about an hour I sat at my desk wondering what the fuck to do with myself. I walked outside and debated going for a run. I didn't. I sat outside for a minute and cried some. I came back in and had a meeting. During the meeting Teresa kept texting me and asking /telling me about things. I was being honest and telling her what I was thinking how I was feeling and then I had to leave the meeting because I couldn't control my emotions. I was bursting to cry, to yell, to do something than sit and listen to people talk about code.  At about 2:40 my brother called.

I don't recall exact words but I know it was hard for him to talk and to make sense of it all. It was awkward and sad. I didn't want to let Doug know how I really felt. I didn't want to scream at him, I didn't want to be upset on the phone. It was exciting and great news for him to share and wanting to share with me. So I didn't want him to feel more a need to share, rather than just normal. About midway through the conversation I felt him straying away and trying to pry at how I was doing or find out what was going on. I stopped him and said, "Dude, your had a boy! That's awesome! What's his name?". Then he told me "Andrew Douglas" and why they choose Andrew and not Doug the III. I asked if it was a family name. He explained a little about Marisa and his choice. I then asked how Mom and Dad were. I really wanted to know if they were excited. I didn't get that. I got some general comments about them being there or what not. I told him I had a meeting at 3pm and I had to go get read. I told him that I was so happy for them and to enjoy every minute of it and to call me later tonight, I want to hear more. He was crying a bit and sad. I felt a pulling feeling in me that I had to ignore and be strong. I said I really appreciated the call and so happy that everyone is feeling okay. I'm glad Marissa is recovering and I'm glad you have a healthy little boy. He told me he loved me and I got off the phone.

At the end of the call I had been pacing between a column of bricks and a wall outside of my office. About 10 feet across between the two but I was just walking back and forth. When I hung up I looked up facing the brick column. I took my hand and just pressed so hard. I made a fist and cocked my arm back and punched. It was a light punch but it felt good. I paced to the wall behind me and gave it an open palm smack harder than the punch I just gave the column. I turned back and walked to the column I wanted it to come down. I balled my fist and looked at it. I felt the same feeling earlier in the day. I wanted to RAGE! I thought for what felt like 10 minutes but was actually seconds. I contemplated punching this column until my hand broke. I then thought that was stupid but I just wanted to. I pulled my arm back and punched hard. Just before contact I rolled my hand missed the column square. Oh! A little scratch. That felt good. I want some blood. I don't know why I wanted to feel some pain. I turned and walked back to the wall. Open hand palm smack as hard as could. Got some scratch, got some redness. That felt good. I turned back to the column and just before I rared back to punch again one of the smokers in the office came outstide. She looked at me and I just burred my head down and went inside.

I sat at my desk for 3 minutes. I had 5 minutes til my 3pm meeting. Just then my director John came in and asked if I could run the meeting he had to leave to go to some golf thing with his kids he told me all about at lunch. I burried my eyes below the brim of my hat and tried to hide my face and just said "Sure no problem". I starred at my screen and had something to do I left open. I started working on it. My mind went away from Doug and the new baby Andrew. My mind could only see Evangeline. I starred at my screen for those 3 minutes, the clock hit 3:00pm. Someone came in my office to talk to me. I was answering their question when Feisal came by and asked if having our meeting. I said yes be there in a few minutes. I grabbed my water bottle and went and filled up and then went and ran the meeting. Discussed everything I had for the group. It lasted about 45minutes. I know at points in the meeting I didn't make sense. I tried to keep it together the entire time.

After the meeting I returned to my desk and answered a few other questions from random people. I then made my way outside again and just took in the air. I calmed my nerves. My feelings of rage. I was sad. I was so sad. I didn't know what to do. I thought about calling Cait. I thought about calling my dad or mom. I thought about calling Doug back. I didn't do anything. I just stood and starred at the parking lot. I went back inside and found some project to do that I knew would take me over an hour to do to get to 5pm. It came and went that last hour of the day. People left as they usually do and I remained sititng in my office working. Shauna sent me a message that she was so upset at the negative attitude of people in the office. I tried 10 times to type a response that didn't say "I Can't help my attitude, my daughter Evangeline died 3 months ago and my brother just had a baby " I never sent it. I deleted and retyped it at least 10 times. Each time I just felt like not dumping it on her. I went over to tell her in person. She was gone. It was 5:45pm. Shit where did the time go? What was I just doing?

CPR

My CPR certification expired last night.  I had been putting it off since Evangeline died, but finally had to do it.

The joys of being a nurse.  I had to do half of it online, and when I got to the infant CPR section, I felt like I was going to throw up, but kept watching the videos and scenarios.  And then I had to do a skills verification portion to complete the certification.

As I looked for the classroom, I realized that it wasn't in the hospital, it was in the education building down the street.  The same education building where Thomas and I took a childbirth education class.  Seriously? I do not need to go back there.

But I did.  And of course, there was a childbirth class starting at the same time as I was walking in... Lots of pregnant and happy couples walked in to the building as the blood drained from my being.

I was crying by the time I got to the classroom.  I asked the teacher if there was any way I could just verbalize CPR for the infant and really didn't want to touch the infant manikin.  I explained to her that my daughter died 11 weeks and 4 days ago and we watched and listened to them perform CPR on her and it was a really difficult thing for me to do at this point.  She was a troll, and said absolutely not, and that I needed to do CPR skills on all manikins to receive my certification.  I was really crying at this point.  

This bitch had not an ounce of empathy.  I get it.  I am a nurse, and need to be able to do CPR in order to work.  And I would.  I have been certified for over 15 years and if ANYONE, adult, child or infant, dropped dead in front of me I know I would leap into action and do what needed to be done.  But right now, I want to puke.  I left sobbing and un-certified.  Part of it was the building and the physical space, but the other part of it is that I truly don't want to do CPR on an infant.  I just can't stop thinking about Evangeline.

I miss my little love so very much.  I am so very sad and have no idea how I will live this life forever.  

One step forward and ten steps back.  Every. Single. Day.

It is awful.  I want her to be alive.  And I want her death to not trigger pain in every single arena of my life.  Work. Relationships. Family.  Everything is affected by Evangeline's death.  

My little girl, I wish you were here with me.

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.

Happy Anniversary

Happy 3rd anniversary my love. It means so much more than this but all I can think of now is that it has been three years of trying to have a family. The last time that I had a truly fantastic day full of joy and light was our wedding day. 3 years and 4 losses. The dreams of my 4 babies. The first three were terrible enough; though they were all first trimester, the trauma was so very real. And then there is my Evangeline... Seeing you as a Daddy was one of the best things I have ever seen. I hope desperately that I will see you as a Daddy to a living baby. The way you held our daughter, so gently and with such confidence... pure instinct. I know you were so nervous that you wouldn't know what to do, but you were flawless. I only wish you had been able to hold her longer. I held her and knew that joy for her entire life, and I am so very grateful that you were able to know that joy too. I only wish we had more time with her. I can't imagine traversing this path with anyone else. I hate that I have to be on it anyways, but am so very thankful to have you by my side. I imagine that not every couple is able to survive this much pain... lucky us, huh? You are my best friend, my rock, and the Daddy to my babies. They are so very lucky to have you. I am too.

One Month - Living For Evangeline

These days it feels much more like living without Evangeline than it does living for her. But the title is a goal I guess. A hope that at some point my little girl's spirit and purpose will shine through us. I can only dream about that day, because my days now are just horrid and filled with such severe sadness... Today Evangeline would be one month old. I see so any babies who have those little month stickers or personalized onesies proudly exclaiming their age to the world. And I hate them. I don't get to do that. I should be able to do that. I can close my eyes and see her after one month of life. She'd be at least 10 pounds by now... I know she'd eat like a little piggy and then be the best little sleeper. I just want to pinch her pudgy little arms and legs. Her hair would be starting to curl. Those eyes that I never even got to would be able to focus on my face and we would just stare at each other for hours. She would be cooing and making sweet little noises. But let's face it I would give anything just for her to be screaming and crying. Starting to smile at us making silly faces at her. Beginning to hold her head up and rocking tummy time. Unfortunately I know entirely too much about developmental milestones in infancy and childhood so I can just picture what will never happen. She will never come back to us. My arms are empty, my heart throbs and I just want a do over. I want to scream.

Daily Musings

we didn't speak of her for her first 5 months of life. She was in there, growing and swimming around, but we ignored her. My head knows that we were doing what we had to do to survive, but I struggle with that now. As we both began feeling her move and getting to know her, it started to get more real... but we still called her a parasite. We couldn't attach enough to say the word baby. Every day was a victory. We were one day closer to having a real-life baby. Weeks passed. Milestones passed. Our nervousness eased. Our fear lessened. We still weren't excited, but we had hope. At 36 weeks, she was 7.5 pounds and all of the sudden we were finally excited. Truly excited. We had the first happy Christmas as a married couple. We still didn't own anything for her, or have a thing in her room, but we were excited. We were still declining all gifts and well wishes. Saying we needed to wait until she was alive. We would tell people that Amazon Prime would be able to get us everything we needed overnight. It would be fine. We had two weeks of more excitement than fear. And then the world stopped. Our hearts tore in pieces, but somehow they still beat. The silence in our home is deafening, which means the heartbeats sound even louder. If only I could have a do over. If I could go back in time and demand a c-section when she was still alive. If anyone had known they would have done that. If there was any inkling of distress we could have done that. But there was none of that. I had a picture perfect pregnancy... minus the daily fear. So many what ifs. It is a cruel and evil game. If I had known she was a girl I could have bought her so many lovely things. Instead I bought her nothing. She had nothing in her room except a shelf of hand-me downs they were never really hers. I will never buy Evangeline tutus and glittery shoes and clothes for the first day of school. I will never hear her sweet giggle or cuddle with her on the couch. But more than that, I wish that I could go back to that day and demand that we bring you into the world. I know, I know. That isn't what I wanted. Clinically I did everything I could do to have a natural and intervention-free birth. And we had no indications that anything was ever wrong. But I let you down my lovie, I wish I had known. I wish I hadn't let you die.