So, big changes are in store over in our little household. We are currently in the process of turning our lives upside down. What's going on, you ask? Well, let me tell you...
1. We are selling our business. We have owned our own business for the last 5 years but have now decided to sell it. The sale is almost finalized (phawoo!).
2. Our house is up for sale. Wish us luck that we are able to sell it in the time frame we need and for a price that isn't too depressing.
3. We are up and moving from British Columbia to Ontario. We used to live in Ontario but moved out west 6 years ago. We love it here but it just makes sense to move back to Ontario. Both sides of our family live there, houses are cheaper, cost of living is cheaper, etc. We'll miss our wonderful friends here and the gorgeous surroundings and climate, but we've got to do what is 'best' for our little family. (Trust me, this took some getting used to the idea!).
So what does all this mean for me in respect to Benjamin? Well, it's weird. I didn't think it would be all that hard. It's not like we buried him here or spread any ashes or anything. His ashes are still in a little box by our bed (apart from what is in my necklace). There is no specific place that I go to to think about him. No place in town that I overly associate with him. So, yeah, I thought it wouldn't be all that hard. I was wrong.
I was driving home from work one night shortly after we made all these decisions and just started bawling. Why is it that the tears come so freely when you are driving alone in the car? I started thinking about how excited we were when we started this business, how we had all these dreams and expectations of how the business would grow. And now it was ending (for us anyways). It was like a death of a child in a sense. We started this business roughly at the same time that I got pregnant with Jackson (okay, not 'roughly', it was basically the same month) so this business was like our first child. Sounds corny, yes, but on that night it just felt like I was going through another death of a loved one. And all it made me do was think about Benjamin.
That brought up all the issues that the move will create with Benjamin and his what I have done in his memory. The support group, the Benjamin Boxes, the friends here that have helped me through the dark days and helped me celebrate the good days. How can I just stop all of that? But how can I continue it in a province that he wasn't even born in? It just doesn't seem right. I've had a few weeks to figure some things out and here's what I've come up with.
The Support group - I have talked to the regular members and they have agreed to keep the group going. Currently it is held in the conference room at my business so they'll have to find a new location. But they are definitely continuing it so that makes me feel better.
Benjamin Boxes - I have made a few more and dropped them off. I will be putting together as many as I can before I move (oh yeah, this move will most likely be in September/October, lol!). My hope is that I can supply them with enough boxes to last at least the rest of the year (hopefully more). I have also talked to a few of the members of my support group and one of them may be willing to take over the boxes for me. When I get to Ontario I may look into offering them at the local hospital there but it depends on what services they already offer to bereaved families. I will still stay involved in Benjamin Boxes, but someone else will become the contact for them.
I have received many generous donations for Benjamin Boxes. The contents of the boxes are mainly donated so I have more money than I need for boxes at the moment. I wanted to donate something else to the room, besides just the boxes. I spoke with the social workers at the hospital and we came up with a donation that I am very pleased with. I will be donating a digital camera, printer, ink, photo paper, and SD cards. The idea is that the social workers will take photos of the babies and then print out one photo for the families to have immediately and be given an SD card with the rest of the images so that they can print off more photos if they wish. The social workers will also be able to allow the families to use the camera while they are there to capture any images they want. Currently the babies are photographed by Media Services and the families are given one photo. The families also have the option of having Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep (volunteer organization that takes beautiful professional photos, like all the photos I have on this site). But by giving the families a camera they are free to take any photos they wish. For instance, I wish I had full body shots of Benjamin undressed. I hate that I can't remember every inch of his body. I can't remember what his thighs looked like, what his belly looked like, his little baby bum, etc. I want other families to have the option to 'remember' every spot on their little ones. I have already purchased the printer and we have lots of paper from our business. Now I have to decide on a camera.
As for my friends that have helped me through this? I will keep this site going (ha, not hard at the rate I've been posting!) and every year I will continue to do a Random Act of Kindness Day in Benjamin's memory. I may be thousands of kilometers away, but what's a couple kilometers among friends when you've got access to the internet?
One thing I have a bit of a hard time about is that this house, this town, this city are where I was pregnant with Benjamin. Where all of our dreams for him were born. Where we looked with excitement and joy on his upcoming birth. It's also where we found out he had died and had to come to terms with that. But it's also where he was born. Where we first got to see him, hold him, kiss him. When we move I won't have any physical reminders of him. I won't pass by the field that was ablaze with daisies when I was pregnant with him. I won't see my friend whose daughter is almost the exact age as Benjamin should be. I won't go to the hospital where he was born. I won't see people who knew him, who held him and touched him and know how beautiful and perfect he was. When I move any friends I make will only know of him as a distant memory. Something that happened to me long before they knew me. He'll just be an idea. Here they saw him growing in my belly, saw my ultrasound photos, held my hand and comforted me when he was born, marveled at how perfect he was in his photos, and they were there to cry with me over the unfairness of his death. They knew him. And even though he wasn't born alive he lives on in each of them. It'll be impossible to get that with a new group of friends. People who haven't lost a baby just don't understand. They usually think that it is something that time heals. I had a baby but he died before birth, three years ago. Three years is a long time. And I've had another child since. Therefore I must be okay. It must not hurt my heart still. After all, I have the millionaires family. I have my boy and girl. Why would my heart hurt?
So that's what's new with me...
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thursday, March 10, 2011
Autopsy report
I requested all my hospital records for all three births. I also requested all the records for all three babies. Including the autopsy report for Benjamin. I just wanted some answers I had surrounding all three labour, deliveries, and hospital stays. I got them last week.
So now I have all the answers I will ever have regarding Benjamin's birth and death. I have the clinical reason for his death. I have details on his body. I have everything. And yet I have less. I now know his eyes were brown (he was born with them closed). I now know he died from "fetal thrombotic vasculopathy, the thrombus in the umbilical vein, and the pulmonary thromboembolic infarction of the right lower lobe of the lung". (yes, I have googled those).
BUT the report could not figure out how 'old' he was! Going by my original due date (the one I always believed to be true) he was born at 36 weeks, 6 days. Going by my adjusted due date from an ultrasound at 10 weeks he was born at 34 weeks, 6 days. Okay. So he was either almost 35 weeks or almost 37 weeks. I can live with that discrepancy. Then when he was born based on his weight and length they concluded that the original due date was correct and he was 36w6d.
Okay, a firm answer... Not so much. Based on findings from the autopsy report his weight was consistent with 38-39 weeks. His lengths (bone lengths, crown to heel and crown to rump lengths) he was consistent with 38-40 weeks. Based on his head circumference he was 40 weeks (but my kids have big noggins, so I'm not putting much weight in that one). But then his foot length indicated 36 weeks. Okay. So going by his body sizes he was anywhere from 36-40 weeks. Okay, those can't be all that accurate, so we'll stick with the 36w6d gestational age and just assume he was going to be a big baby.
BUT then the 'placental weight' indicated 33-34 weeks gestation. WTH?? How can the placental 'age' be 33-34 weeks, but the baby be 36-40 weeks? How can they not know how old he was? And not just by a few days, or even a few weeks, but by five to seven weeks?? That's almost two months!
The report actually states "In addition, there is a discrepancy between body measurements which correspond to a later gestation of 38-39 weeks gestation, and the placental weight, which corresponds to 33-34 weeks gestation." So they state this, but give no indication if this means anything. Does this have anything to do with his death? Can the fact that he was 'older' than the placenta mean that something was wrong and his body was working too hard? Could that have somehow caused the blood clots? If I had gone for more monitoring would they have seen this 'discrepancy' and been able to do something? If they'd seen that he was measuring 5-6 weeks bigger than they believed him to be would they have intervened somehow? Could he have been saved?
See, I have less. Now I am just confused. And, I'll be honest, a tad angry. Not at anyone in particular; no one could have known that he was going to die. No one could have known that he was growing so big. Just angry though. Angry that my baby had to have an autopsy. Angry that someone else knows his body better than me. Angry that he was taken apart and put back together again. Angry that there is that small smidgen of possibility that all of this could have been avoided. Just angry.
So now I have all the answers I will ever have regarding Benjamin's birth and death. I have the clinical reason for his death. I have details on his body. I have everything. And yet I have less. I now know his eyes were brown (he was born with them closed). I now know he died from "fetal thrombotic vasculopathy, the thrombus in the umbilical vein, and the pulmonary thromboembolic infarction of the right lower lobe of the lung". (yes, I have googled those).
BUT the report could not figure out how 'old' he was! Going by my original due date (the one I always believed to be true) he was born at 36 weeks, 6 days. Going by my adjusted due date from an ultrasound at 10 weeks he was born at 34 weeks, 6 days. Okay. So he was either almost 35 weeks or almost 37 weeks. I can live with that discrepancy. Then when he was born based on his weight and length they concluded that the original due date was correct and he was 36w6d.
Okay, a firm answer... Not so much. Based on findings from the autopsy report his weight was consistent with 38-39 weeks. His lengths (bone lengths, crown to heel and crown to rump lengths) he was consistent with 38-40 weeks. Based on his head circumference he was 40 weeks (but my kids have big noggins, so I'm not putting much weight in that one). But then his foot length indicated 36 weeks. Okay. So going by his body sizes he was anywhere from 36-40 weeks. Okay, those can't be all that accurate, so we'll stick with the 36w6d gestational age and just assume he was going to be a big baby.
BUT then the 'placental weight' indicated 33-34 weeks gestation. WTH?? How can the placental 'age' be 33-34 weeks, but the baby be 36-40 weeks? How can they not know how old he was? And not just by a few days, or even a few weeks, but by five to seven weeks?? That's almost two months!
The report actually states "In addition, there is a discrepancy between body measurements which correspond to a later gestation of 38-39 weeks gestation, and the placental weight, which corresponds to 33-34 weeks gestation." So they state this, but give no indication if this means anything. Does this have anything to do with his death? Can the fact that he was 'older' than the placenta mean that something was wrong and his body was working too hard? Could that have somehow caused the blood clots? If I had gone for more monitoring would they have seen this 'discrepancy' and been able to do something? If they'd seen that he was measuring 5-6 weeks bigger than they believed him to be would they have intervened somehow? Could he have been saved?
See, I have less. Now I am just confused. And, I'll be honest, a tad angry. Not at anyone in particular; no one could have known that he was going to die. No one could have known that he was growing so big. Just angry though. Angry that my baby had to have an autopsy. Angry that someone else knows his body better than me. Angry that he was taken apart and put back together again. Angry that there is that small smidgen of possibility that all of this could have been avoided. Just angry.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
Daisy
I was at a discussion group the other day where about a dozen parents were sitting around waiting for a guest speaker to start. We had just done introductions and one lady introduced herself and told us that she was 36 weeks pregnant. I asked her if she knew whether she was having a boy or a girl. She answered that she did not and hadn't known with her first child either, but she had just known that the baby was a girl. I asked if she had any feelings about this baby. She replied that she did not, but that her daughter was absolutely convinced it was going to be a girl. She even had decided on a name. I asked what the name was. She replied "Daisy".
She must now think I'm a moron. I had been just chatting away with her all friendly and intersted in her life but as soon as she said this I immediately looked away and avoided eye contact with her for the next 15 minutes for fear of bursting into tears. A little hard to avoid eye contact since she was the guest speaker.
She must now think I'm a moron. I had been just chatting away with her all friendly and intersted in her life but as soon as she said this I immediately looked away and avoided eye contact with her for the next 15 minutes for fear of bursting into tears. A little hard to avoid eye contact since she was the guest speaker.
Saturday, November 20, 2010
For Jen and Catrina
This is the infamous painting I was talking about.
There is this painting in Room 7 of the hospital. Room 7 is the room that all families who have had, or are having, stillbirth babies are put. This painting is many things. Confusing is the main one. There were many times during my hospital stay that I would talk with whoever was with me and we would try to figure out what the hell the painting meant. I never did figure it out.
So enjoy!
In case you can't read the title, it is "Flower of Tulips". What the hell does 'flower of tulips even mean??? That was our main dilemma, I mean the picture itself is okay, in a flea market art kind of way. And really, what kind of picture is appropriate for a room where all your dreams have just shattered? But 'flower of tulips'? Really? Any ideas on this?
There is this painting in Room 7 of the hospital. Room 7 is the room that all families who have had, or are having, stillbirth babies are put. This painting is many things. Confusing is the main one. There were many times during my hospital stay that I would talk with whoever was with me and we would try to figure out what the hell the painting meant. I never did figure it out.
So enjoy!
In case you can't read the title, it is "Flower of Tulips". What the hell does 'flower of tulips even mean??? That was our main dilemma, I mean the picture itself is okay, in a flea market art kind of way. And really, what kind of picture is appropriate for a room where all your dreams have just shattered? But 'flower of tulips'? Really? Any ideas on this?
Thursday, November 11, 2010
Happy Birthday sweet baby boy
Dear Benjamin,
We love you and miss you today, as always, Benjamin. The years may pass but the love we feel for you never lessens.
I try to imagine you as a two year old. You should be running around by now, talking, yelling, being a rambunctious two year old. I wonder what you would look like. When I am able to imagine an image of you it is always the same. You have dark curly hair. You have beautiful full lips. You are a tall solid kid, full of energy. Your voice is soft and sweet. I can almost imagine hearing you call me mommy. But it's hard. I have to really force myself to imagine you at two. When I think of you, all I can picture is a perfect little newborn. With dark curly hair, dark full lips, and a solid weight in my arms. Oh how I wish I could feel you in my arms again. To feel your little body filling my arms, to kiss your forehead, touch your hair.
I miss you in a way I wish I didn't know. I wish I didn't know the pain of having a hole in my heart. The pain I still feel when someone asks me how many children I have. The pain when someone comments on how perfect my family is, what with a boy and a girl. The sadness I feel when I see another two year old and realize they are almost the exact same age as you should be. The sadness I feel when I know Jackson and Lexi will never know you. They will know of you, but it's not the same. You will just be a person from the past to them, the brother they never really had. That hurts. So much. I so desperately want you to grow up with them. To learn things from Jackson, to teach things to Lexi. That is just unfair. Why did it have to be you, little man? Why did you have to die? Why you??
That's all for now. I refuse to let your birthday be one of sadness. Two years ago today you were born. I got to embrace you in my arms. Your daddy, gramma, papa and nana got to hold you. Two years ago you were a real baby, for the whole world to see, not just my own special baby for me to feel and know.
Your short life has changed the world, Benjamin. People all over Canada and the States are doing nice things today in your memory. People are smiling today because of you.
And I am smiling today because of you. I smile every day because of you. Yes, I cry still too, but mostly I smile. I smile because I cannot help smiling, the love just gets the best of me. Even though I truly do wish you were here today with us, I know that even in death you are always with us. So tonight when we are blowing out your candles and eating your birthday cake I would like to believe that you are smiling too.
I love you so much sweet boy. I always will.
Love,
Mommy
We love you and miss you today, as always, Benjamin. The years may pass but the love we feel for you never lessens.
I try to imagine you as a two year old. You should be running around by now, talking, yelling, being a rambunctious two year old. I wonder what you would look like. When I am able to imagine an image of you it is always the same. You have dark curly hair. You have beautiful full lips. You are a tall solid kid, full of energy. Your voice is soft and sweet. I can almost imagine hearing you call me mommy. But it's hard. I have to really force myself to imagine you at two. When I think of you, all I can picture is a perfect little newborn. With dark curly hair, dark full lips, and a solid weight in my arms. Oh how I wish I could feel you in my arms again. To feel your little body filling my arms, to kiss your forehead, touch your hair.
I miss you in a way I wish I didn't know. I wish I didn't know the pain of having a hole in my heart. The pain I still feel when someone asks me how many children I have. The pain when someone comments on how perfect my family is, what with a boy and a girl. The sadness I feel when I see another two year old and realize they are almost the exact same age as you should be. The sadness I feel when I know Jackson and Lexi will never know you. They will know of you, but it's not the same. You will just be a person from the past to them, the brother they never really had. That hurts. So much. I so desperately want you to grow up with them. To learn things from Jackson, to teach things to Lexi. That is just unfair. Why did it have to be you, little man? Why did you have to die? Why you??
That's all for now. I refuse to let your birthday be one of sadness. Two years ago today you were born. I got to embrace you in my arms. Your daddy, gramma, papa and nana got to hold you. Two years ago you were a real baby, for the whole world to see, not just my own special baby for me to feel and know.
Your short life has changed the world, Benjamin. People all over Canada and the States are doing nice things today in your memory. People are smiling today because of you.
And I am smiling today because of you. I smile every day because of you. Yes, I cry still too, but mostly I smile. I smile because I cannot help smiling, the love just gets the best of me. Even though I truly do wish you were here today with us, I know that even in death you are always with us. So tonight when we are blowing out your candles and eating your birthday cake I would like to believe that you are smiling too.
I love you so much sweet boy. I always will.
Love,
Mommy
Monday, November 8, 2010
Benjamin's Second Birthday
This Thursday, November 11th, should be Benjamin's 2nd birthday. Last year I asked everyone to do a Random Act of Kindness in his memory and then to let me know what you had done. The response I got was incredible.
November 11th is a bittersweet day for our family. We finally got to hold our sweet baby in our arms, but it was also the day that any hope we had that the doctors were wrong was gone. To know that people all over the country (both Canada and the US) were doing nice things in his memory helped to make the day a happier one. We were able to focus more on the influence that Benjamin's short life had, and continues to have, on the world. This year is a little different as Jackson is now old enough to understand who Benjamin was and what he means to us. I have talked to Jackson about Benjamin and that sometimes babies die. It has been rough talking about it, but also very sweet to hear a 3 year olds take on the subject. This year we are baking cookies to hand out to people in the next few days explaining who Benjamin was and asking them to do a Random Act of Kindness too. Jackson will be helping me to ice the cookies and will help me hand them out. I want him to know that even though he never had the chance to meet his brother, he still has a brother, if only in the hearts of all those who love him.
So, I am again asking everyone to do something to make the world a little happier on Benjamin's birthday. It doesn't have to be big. It doesn't have to cost money. As long as you make someone else smile that is all I ask. I can't see my sweet two year old's face light up in smile, so just to know that other people are smiling on his birthday, becasue of him, then I'd like to think that his life made a happy impact on the world. And that has to be enough for me. Please post in the comments section to let me know what you have done. Last year I saved the list of acts that were done. I hope to do this for many many years and one day I will be able to share with Benjamin's siblings how their brother's life changed the world.
Last year some things that were done were (among many more):
- Washed a neighbours windows
- Baked cookies and muffins for a co-worker
- Brought neighours, co-workers, or kids timbits and coffee
- Donated baby items to the food bank
- Made family a priority
Thank you in advance. If you can't do anything then just knowing that he is being thought of that day is still very meaningful.
November 11th is a bittersweet day for our family. We finally got to hold our sweet baby in our arms, but it was also the day that any hope we had that the doctors were wrong was gone. To know that people all over the country (both Canada and the US) were doing nice things in his memory helped to make the day a happier one. We were able to focus more on the influence that Benjamin's short life had, and continues to have, on the world. This year is a little different as Jackson is now old enough to understand who Benjamin was and what he means to us. I have talked to Jackson about Benjamin and that sometimes babies die. It has been rough talking about it, but also very sweet to hear a 3 year olds take on the subject. This year we are baking cookies to hand out to people in the next few days explaining who Benjamin was and asking them to do a Random Act of Kindness too. Jackson will be helping me to ice the cookies and will help me hand them out. I want him to know that even though he never had the chance to meet his brother, he still has a brother, if only in the hearts of all those who love him.
So, I am again asking everyone to do something to make the world a little happier on Benjamin's birthday. It doesn't have to be big. It doesn't have to cost money. As long as you make someone else smile that is all I ask. I can't see my sweet two year old's face light up in smile, so just to know that other people are smiling on his birthday, becasue of him, then I'd like to think that his life made a happy impact on the world. And that has to be enough for me. Please post in the comments section to let me know what you have done. Last year I saved the list of acts that were done. I hope to do this for many many years and one day I will be able to share with Benjamin's siblings how their brother's life changed the world.
Last year some things that were done were (among many more):
- Washed a neighbours windows
- Baked cookies and muffins for a co-worker
- Brought neighours, co-workers, or kids timbits and coffee
- Donated baby items to the food bank
- Made family a priority
Thank you in advance. If you can't do anything then just knowing that he is being thought of that day is still very meaningful.
Friday, October 15, 2010
Infant Loss Remembrance Day
No time for a long post today (or any day for that matter lately!).
Today is Infant Loss Remembrance Day. A day to think about all the babies who were taken too soon. A day to remember them and realize how much they touched our lives in their short time with us. A day to think about those mothers and fathers who have missed out on so much with their little ones. A day for those of us that have lost our sweet babies to spend some time openly loving them and missing them. A day for those of you who know us to grieve with us and let us know that even though our little ones are not with us you still think about them.
As my life gets more hectic with a preschooler and toddler I find that I do not have as much free time to devote to this blog, the support boxes, or just thinking about Benjamin. But when I do sit down and think about him it still tears my heart apart. I think about what I don't get to do with him. I think about all the lost memories with him. I think about what he would be like now as his 2nd birthday approaches. I think about how I don't remember him as well as I used to. I think about how active he used to be in my belly, especially when I was sewing for him. I think about how perfect his feet were. I think about how much I love him, even without watching him breathing and living. I think about him as only a mother can.
I love you Benjamin. I miss you.
Today is Infant Loss Remembrance Day. A day to think about all the babies who were taken too soon. A day to remember them and realize how much they touched our lives in their short time with us. A day to think about those mothers and fathers who have missed out on so much with their little ones. A day for those of us that have lost our sweet babies to spend some time openly loving them and missing them. A day for those of you who know us to grieve with us and let us know that even though our little ones are not with us you still think about them.
As my life gets more hectic with a preschooler and toddler I find that I do not have as much free time to devote to this blog, the support boxes, or just thinking about Benjamin. But when I do sit down and think about him it still tears my heart apart. I think about what I don't get to do with him. I think about all the lost memories with him. I think about what he would be like now as his 2nd birthday approaches. I think about how I don't remember him as well as I used to. I think about how active he used to be in my belly, especially when I was sewing for him. I think about how perfect his feet were. I think about how much I love him, even without watching him breathing and living. I think about him as only a mother can.
I love you Benjamin. I miss you.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)