From the Mommy Files…

Archive for the ‘complete molar pregancy’ Category

So where did we leave off before I got consumed by moving?

That’s a whole other story.

Oh yes.

STROKE ALERT!

A quick trip to the CT room and back, revealed there was no stroke.

Thank God.

But…

Yes, there was a “but.”

Something on the scan didn’t look right, so the doctor ordered a series of MRIs and MRAs.

The doctor gave no clue as to what he was looking for nor did he share any of his suspicions.

I didn’t even know how many tests I was about to receive until later.

Meanwhile, the vertigo was still an issue, especially with all the tests.

Another doctor came in and told me in order for him to figure out what this vertigo was, he had to do a test that would probably make it worse.

He raised me up quickly and turned my head really fast.

Holy cow!

Talk about speeding up the spin!

“A typical case of Benign Paroxysmal Positional Vertigo.”

Say that 10 times fast.

“Or BPPV for short.”

Apparently, we have crystals in our ears that regulate our balance.

When one comes out of place, it creates the vertigo.

The doctor explained that this was treatable.

He said there was a therapy I could do to gently move the crystals back into place, and then it should go away.

OK! So set me up!

Not so fast.

“We have to get the results from your other tests first.”

Meanwhile, Peter left to be at home when the girls woke up.

It would be several hours before I got any answers—or any relief for that matter.

I was given a pill and an injection to help stop the vertigo.

They helped, but didn’t relieve it 100%.

The ER began to fill up – there was a flu epidemic and people were flocking to the emergency rooms.

Eventually, this ER would be shut down.

I had been in the ER for more than 12 hours before I received more information.

Vertebral Artery Dissection.

What’s a vertebral artery?

The explanation I recall from the ER is not 100% correct, so I’m not sure if I didn’t hear it right or it wasn’t explained well.

We have two vertebral arteries—one on the left side of the neck, the other on the right. They are major arteries of the neck.

The one on my left side was torn.

Wait—there’s more.

I was told there was an aneurysm blocking the entry point.

VAD happens typically when there is an injury, or in many cases, a chiropractic adjustment gone bad.

I had neither.

The doctor asked me think back to what has been going on in my life.

We discussed the molar pregnancy, the chemo, the neurological issues I have had since.

It could all be related. They just weren’t sure yet.

This is a rare malady.

And for now, they would pronounce the cause as “spontaneous,” though we would revisit this again later.

So tell me, how did I get two “rare maladies” in a little more than two years?

Lightning struck me twice!

Then came more news.

I was going to stay in the hospital.

And my children?

The nurse said, “Let your husband take care of it. You can’t stress yourself out.”

Well, stress is part of this game we call Motherhood, no?

NOW WHAT?!

A chest x-ray, a discussion about therapies, and a four-hour wait in the hallway for a room.

Yes, you read correctly.

The ER was so jammed, I was moved from my room and had to wait in the hallway of the ER until I could get the x-ray and a room became available.

I was offered the choice of several drug therapies—all involving blood thinners with varying side effects, as well as follow up methods.

I chose Xarelto, which was a relatively new blood thinner, since I wouldn’t need weekly blood work, and my diet would not be restricted.

Then came the rules for this game.

“There are several things you will no longer be able to do, and some for now, let’s put on hold,” the neurologist explained.

“You have to take it easy, and no stress. You need to heal.”

I told him I was a mother, and that was an impossible task.

“Well, you have to try,” he insisted.

Then came the litany of activity restrictions:

No running, no jumping.

No prolonged movements of the neck.

“You know when you go to the hair salon and they put your head in the shampoo bowl?” the doctor asked.

“Don’t do that. It can give you a stroke.”

WHAT?!!!

“No quick movements of the head either. Use extra care when you drive.”

There was more.

“No neck massages, no yoga.”

How was I supposed to relax?

“No aerobic activity. Walk on the treadmill, but at a slow pace and only for a short time. Listen to your body. If you get dizzy doing anything, stop.”

“Take your meds once a day with dinner. Do not forget or you will be an increased risk of stroke.”

I asked how likely it was that I could have a stroke.

The doctor said it was VERY likely if I didn’t follow the rules, and somewhat likely even if I did.

He told me that I was lucky.

Lucky? How do you think this is lucky?

It seems that most people do not know they have VAD until they have a stroke.

If you hear of people under 50 having a stroke—this is most likely why.

So I was a walking time bomb.

“Oh yes,” the doctor said. “You might want to not play with the kids. No horsing around whatsoever. Do not lift them. Do not lift anything heavier than 10 lbs.”

“Are you kidding me?” I asked.

“I wish I were,” he replied.

17 hours after I arrived at the ER, I was finally on my way to a room.

Somebody wake me up from this nightmare.

This cannot be happening!

————————————————————————————————————————

Check back soon to learn what happened next.

 

 

 

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It was shaping up to be the worst Christmas ever.

Three days prior, we were just about to sign on a new house,

When we received notice that the deal to buy our house had fallen apart.

My mom wasn’t feeling well, and all holiday plans were up in the air.

A dear friend who is undergoing radiation right now, helped provide some needed perspective:

“At least we aren’t going through chemo right now!”

She was so right.

Christmas 2010, I was still undergoing chemo for complications from my complete molar pregnancy.

I’d caught a nasty cold/cough that no doctor would treat.

I coughed so hard that Christmas Eve, I thought I was going to cough up a lung.

I ended up fracturing 2 ribs, which are still not healed…

But I digress…

So yes, thank God we weren’t going through that.

We made the rounds on Christmas Eve and ended the evening at my parents’ home.

My mom was listless. She was weak, slumped over. She looked so old.

Just a shadow of herself, she barely spoke, wouldn’t eat.

We asked if she’d taken her meds; she said she didn’t know.

Normally, she kept her pill box beside her at a nearby table.

It was nowhere to be found.

I searched for the missing pills and discovered them hidden away.

She hadn’t taken her meds in more than a week.

No wonder she felt—and looked—so awful.

We gave her the evening meds, put a cold washcloth on her head.

She said she wanted to go to bed, but couldn’t get up.

Mom lay back on the couch for awhile, then finally got up and went to bed.

When we arrived at home, the call came.

Mom began vomiting and wheezing.

Paramedics gave her a breathing treatment, and took her to the ER.

Now it was 1-1/2 hour drive for me, so my sister, brother and aunt rushed to the hospital.

I participated by phone, providing medical history and other info.

They couldn’t find any issue.

Other than refusing to eat or take meds.

She spent the night and went home the next day.

Many revelations came out on Christmas Eve night, startling changes in Mom.

I wondered, would it be her last Christmas?

I was sad, remembering that we’d lost another of her brothers, just one year ago on Christmas Eve.

Was it her time?

Now, I didn’t tell you that on Christmas Eve morning, I woke up to find that my computer had crashed.

When it rains it pours, eh?

Amazing how much we rely on these things…I was seemingly incapacitated, cut off.

A writer without a computer is like a singer with laryngitis, no?

My smartphone wasn’t being so smart either.

So I woke up on Christmas morning feeling pretty glum.

I didn’t know what the day would bring, what more bad news we’d receive.

The girls were very excited.

They went downstairs to discover that Santa had eaten the cookies and milk they left.

He’d left a note for each girl.

Our lovely Miss Boo on Christmas morning

Our lovely Miss Boo on Christmas morning

There were many presents under the tree.

The girls sprang back upstairs, shouting with glee.

“Santa was here! Get up! Santa was here!”

We went downstairs, and barely got the coffee made when they began to rip open their gifts.

We sat near the tree, listening to Christmas carols, as the girls opened their presents.

Boo looked outside, and announced with pure, unadulterated happiness,

“It’s snowing!”

It was our first real snow of the season.

It was really snowing!

The snowflakes glistened as they fell through the air, accumulating on the ground.

We probably got 2-3 inches, just enough to cover the ground and make things very festive.

It was a white Christmas!

We all went to the window to watch the wondrous display.

It was absolutely magical.

Leave it to Boo, to bring some needed perspective, to point out the simple joys.

She declared, “Happy Birthday, Jesus! It’s a perfect day for you! Thank you for the snow and for everything! I love you!”

Yes, the simple joys. A little snow on Christmas morning; smiling, giggling children; reminders of the reason for the season; and all the blessings we truly have.

All those troubles were left behind for the day.

Bebs sends a hearty Ho! Ho! Ho!

Bebs sends a hearty Ho! Ho! Ho!

We’d rediscovered the real reason for the season. 

Despite everything going on, we found Christmas Joy.

Thanks to two absolutely lovable and adorable little girls.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a goodnight! 

I’m honored to be part of The Next Big Thing Blog Hop, which not only makes me feel like a true member of the author community, but also motivates me to finish rewrites and get my book published!

Nai’lah Carter tagged me for The Next Big Thing Blog Hop. Her book, You Have What it Takes has come to me at just the right moment, as I have experienced that doubt that we all feel, just as we are getting close to the finish line. The purpose of this promo is to be able to discover new authors you may never heard of, and learn about their work. In this week 21 of the blog tour, you’ll read about my “Next Big Thing.” At the end, I’ve tagged 5 other authors, who will do the same thing next Wednesday.

So, without further ado, here we go!

What is the working title of your book?  Positive About Negative: Adventures in Molar Pregnancy.

Where did the idea come from for the book? In September 2010 I experienced a molar pregnancy. This is a rare type of miscarriage that can become cancer. I endured many complications, and ultimately, 14 weeks of chemotherapy. Each year, about 200,000 molar pregnancies are diagnosed, worldwide; 6500 of those are in the US. There are precious few resources out there for women who have a molar pregnancy. I really felt like I was alone at sea. I don’t want any other woman to feel like that.

What genre does your book fall under? Women’s health.

Which actors would you choose to play your characters in a movie rendition?  Don’t know that this would ever happen! I never even thought about this before. My husband said maybe Sandra Bullock could play me… I could see Alec Baldwin as one of my doctors… 😉 LOL

This book will be a tremendous resource for women; their partners, family members and friends; and even for doctors, who wouldn’t normally have that intimate a look into a patient’s journey.

What is the one-sentence synopsis of your book? This book is for women who have endured a molar pregnancy – from diagnosis, to treatment, healing and beyond.

Will your book be self-published or represented by an agency?  Not sure yet.

How long did it take you to write the first draft of your manuscript? More than one year. I have two small children, and I was on my own healing journey. There were times when I couldn’t go near it, because the grief would rear its ugly head, or some milestone date was approaching and I was trying to busy myself with other things. I’ve consulted experts as well as women who have also experienced molar pregnancy. Their feedback was extremely positive. I’m currently working on rewrites.

What other books would you compare this story to within your genre? I haven’t found any. There is a book that shares stories of several women who have endured molar pregnancy, but there are none like this. My book not only reveals my journey, but also examines what a woman can expect on her own journey, and more. I share research I have compiled, plus, there are topics such as grieving (so important and often overlooked); advocacy; (critical!); advice for partners, family and friends; controversy within the field, etc. Also examined is the rare nature of the disease, and why there is a lack of a protocol for treatment. Currently, there are no institutional or national guidelines for the treatment of molar pregnancy.

Who or What inspired you to write this book?  As I embarked on this roller coaster of a journey, I couldn’t find any resources. I felt very lost. I was fortunate to connect with women around the world via an online support group. We shared research, offered support, cheered on everyone’s progress, listened while we vented or lamented. I floated the idea about writing a book, and my fellow survivors applauded and encouraged me to do it. I learned so much on this journey. You may not be religious, but my faith was a driving force in getting me through this, and also provided inspiration. I believe that God chose me to go on this journey, because I am a writer and I would not be afraid to share my story. I don’t want anyone else to feel as alone as I did.

What else about your book might pique the reader’s interest? Molar pregnancy is rare. A woman goes from the anticipation of a new life and feeling full of love and hope, to learning that the pregnancy is lost. Not only is a woman grieving her lost child, but she faces a health crisis: she’s received this diagnosis of Gestational Trophoblastic Disease (doesn’t that get stuck in your mouth?), and the knowledge that this could become cancer—who knew that what started as the promise of a new life could lead one to the chemo lab?

Just when does it become cancer? Ask many doctors and you’ll get many answers. How did this happen? Could this have been prevented? Will the disease come back? Will it happen again? Do I really need to grieve? Do I need chemo? Can I have more children? What’s next? These questions and more are all discussed in this important book.

The foreword has been written by a physician who is widely considered as the top specialist for the treatment of molar pregnancy in the US.

Thanks for reading about my forthcoming book…

And now…

As you know, I am always promoting my heritage, so I thought I’d present to you five Greek authors (OK, one isn’t Greek, but his latest book is set on a Greek island!) Check out these wonderful authors and find out what they’re up to!

Kelly Andria

Patty Apostolides

C. Dionysios Dionou

Bryan Mooney

Stephanie Nikolopoulos

I’d be remiss if I didn’t give a shout out to my dear friend and fellow writer, Patricia V. Davis, who I “met” when I interviewed her a few years ago for The Greek Star.  Three hours later (yes, we spoke for that many hours on the phone!) we were friends. That day, she encouraged me to do more with my writing. She gave me the little push I needed to get out there and expand my horizons. She’s a dynamic and inspiring woman. Check out her site, and see all the things that she’s up to!

This October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.

This is a day for people to commemorate their lost little ones.

I lost mine in the early part of my pregnancy, but it hurts tremendously, nonetheless.

A loss at any stage of the game is life-altering.

I cannot fathom the grief experienced by women who have progressed far into their pregnancies.

Or the incredible sense of loss felt by women who’s babies were born sleeping.

Or who those who had a a child who lived for only a short while, and left this world way too soon.

And let’s not forget the dads–and other family members. They grieve too.

They feel the loss in different ways, but are still affected.

But it must be acknowledged and worked through.

My heart breaks thinking about this.

It’s an earth-shattering experience.

And one often suffered in silence.

Why don’t people discuss pregnancy and infant loss?

Why do we grieve undercover?

According to iamtheface.org, 1 in 4 women will experience the loss of a baby at sometime in their lives. 

That’s a staggering statistic.

So why are we still not talking about this?

Many people you know have experienced a miscarriage.

When I began speaking about my experience, I received notes from people telling me they too, have had a miscarriage–or two or three.

Why did I not know?

Do we feel ashamed?

We should not.

We’ve all heard people say, Just get over it.”

The truth is, you can’t.

You must grieve your loss.

Mothers fall in love with their babies from the very beginning.

Sometimes even before the pregnancy is confirmed.

The very thought of this new life growing inside us inspires great love, dreams of little tiny feet.

When that’s ripped away, it’s something that rocks you to the core.

We often blame ourselves when there is no blame to be given.

Many women do not properly grieve their loss.

And it haunts them throughout their lives.

We must grieve this loss.

We must get in a good place with it, so we can truly move on.

This is one of those things that is gone, but not forgotten.

You learn to live with it, and you find a way to move forward.

You may commemorate your little angel on your due date, the date of loss, even their birthday.

This October 15 at 7:00 pm, join women and their loved ones around the world, who will light candles in honor of their lost little ones.

Participate in this Wave of Light.

Light a candle.

Cry if you need to.

Say a prayer.

Imagine your little angel in Heaven.

Sing.

Meditate.

Do whatever works for you.

If you know someone who has been through this, give them a giant hug.

Acknowledge their grief.

Moms are incredible beings.

Moms who have endured this life-altering loss, I salute you.

You are stronger than you even know.

Sending big hugs your way.

Now, imagine our little angels playing together in Heaven.

Now that’s a beautiful image.

RIP DPK. 

Many of you know that I experienced a molar pregnancy in September 2010.

It was with great anticipation that I looked forward to the birth of my 3rd child, only to have my world decimated by the revelation of the molar pregnancy, and of course its aftermath, wrought with complications.

And then there was chemo.

As I struggled to deal with it all, I proclaimed that I was now the mother of 2 daughters and 1 angel baby.

Since the day of that earth-shattering diagnosis, I have prayed for that little angel baby.

He’s visited me in dreams.

Ok, you’re saying, “Stop the truck! HE?”

He’s come to me several times in dreams and pronounced that he was a boy.

So I finally got my boy, but he’s an angel in Heaven.

Many times I have contemplated how and when I would tell the girls about their baby brother.

There was never an “if”. I would share it with them someday, somehow.

That day came much sooner than I expected.

A few months ago, the girls were arguing about who was the big sister.

Bebs was not satisfied to be just the “little sister.”

I tried to explain to her that I was a little sister, too.

“But you’re a big sister too!” she retorted, with all her 3 year-old wisdom.

I am.

And she kept repeating, “But I am a big sister! I am a big sister! Mom, will you tell her?”

I paused for a moment to ponder what she meant by that. How could she possibly know?

I recall talking to her about the baby when I first found out I was pregnant.

She was 18 months old. I figured she wouldn’t tell anyone.

I never told Boo. For some reason I thought she’d run to school and tell everyone.

This was strange, because I hadn’t kept any of my pregnancies a secret.

 Foreboding?

A subconscious safety mechanism for what was to come?

Who knows?

Then I wondered, could Bebs actually remember that, on some level?

I thought the best thing to do was to go with it. After all, she really was a big sister.

I sat the girls down.

Mommy: Yes, Bebs is a Big Sister.

Boo: And who is this other person?

Mommy: It’s an angel baby. He lives in Heaven with Jesus.

Funny, there were no other questions.

Good thing, cause I wasn’t sure where to go from there.

From time to time, the girls mention their little brother—but only as Bebs refers to him—as the BABY ANGEL.

Last night, after one of Bebs’ monster tantrums (it’s tough to be 3, after all!), she started talking about the baby angel.

Bebs: I’m sorry, Mommy. The Baby Angel said I am a good girl, and I should be one.

Mommy: Did you talk to the Baby Angel?

Bebs: Oh yes, Mommy!

Mommy: What did he say?

Bebs: He said not to have tantrums. That I’m a sweet girl.

Mommy: Yes, you are a sweet girl. Can we see more of this sweet girl?

Bebs: OK.

Mommy: Do you see the Baby Angel a lot?

Bebs: Yes, Mommy.

Mommy: Does he look like you?

Bebs: No.

Mommy: Does he look like Boo?

Bebs: No.

Mommy: Does he look like me or Daddy?

Bebs: I’m not supposed to tell you.

Mommy: Why not? I’d really like to know. (I’m curious, after all!)

She paused for a moment.

Bebs: Well, he looks like Jesus!

Mommy: Really? Does he have dark hair?

Bebs: Mommy! OK, well, he has white hair…

Mommy: Really?

Bebs: I can’t tell you that. It’s a secret.

Mommy: What else does the Baby Angel tell you?

Bebs: It’s a secret between a Big Sister and her Baby Angel.

Wow. I guess she’s right. I’m really not supposed to know.

Not to be outdone, Boo chimed in.

Boo: I know what the Baby Angel looks like!

Mommy: Tell me.

Then she presented me with a small painting her godmother gave her, of an angel watching a baby in its cradle.

She pointed to the baby.

Mommy: This is the Baby Angel?

Boo: No, Mommy. We are the baby, and the Angel is our Baby Angel, watching over us.

 5 year-old wisdom.

As a tear came to my eye, I thought this would make me sad.

But somehow it did not.

It’s actually comforting to know he’s here with us.

Knowing the girls acknowledge him too, and he’s part of regular discussion.

This morning, Bebs was acting up again.

Mommy: What would the Baby Angel say?

Bebs: Oh, I don’t think he would like it.

Mommy: Then you should be a good girl, a good big sister.

Bebs: You’re right, Mommy. I’ll be better, for the Baby Angel. I have to teach him things. That’s what big sisters do.

Yes they do.

And if he can help with behavioral issues too, A-W-E-S-O-M-E!

I knew losing a child could change a parent forever.

Who knew the influence that angel child would have on his siblings.

Last year, I wrote a piece that appeared on Harlots Sauce Radio, called “You Did Not Just Say That!” about what not to say to someone who recently experienced a miscarriage.

Since then, I have been bombarded with questions – and from people who know better – asking when #3 is coming.

When I tell them that I’m not so young anymore – I’m 42…

Then they respond with examples of 57 women who had kids at the age of 46.

Then I remind them that I lost #3 – it turned out to be a molar pregnancy, with many complications, and required chemotherapy – they still insist that I must have a 3rd child.

These people are really at the height of insensitivity.

Sad thing is that most don’t even realize it.

If you didn’t know me well, and you asked, it wouldn’t be so bad.

If you took my response and left it at that, it would be OK.

But some people just feel like they have to win, and will not give up until you say, “OK! I’m going to go for it! Thanks for showing me the light!”

I’m not a violent person, but sometimes I swear I’d like to give these people a punch too.

I’m hearing from women all over the country who are dealing with this incredible insensitivity as well.

We are not being selfish, vain or even frugal.

All I can say is, DO NOT ASK US WHEN WE WILL HAVE A(NOTHER) BABY!

First of all, it’s none of your business.

Second of all, you have no idea what that person has been through, and what kind of hurt you cause.

You might say, “Well, I didn’t know.” Or “I was just making conversation, etc.”

But seriously, this isn’t good conversation.

I’m 42.

I’d love to have another child.

I’d love to have a boy.

Don’t ask me if I want that, because I do. It’s just not in the cards.

And I have been asked more times than I can tell you.

Are my two girls not good enough? I have to have a boy to be legit?

When the molar pregnancy happened, I felt like God said, “No more kids!”

In my heart, I knew I wanted another, and as soon as it was over, I insisted I was going to try for another.

Complications set in, and it was evident that that wasn’t going to happen.

When I learned I needed chemo, I felt like God tapped me on the shoulder and said,” Excuse me. Did you not get my message? I said, no more kids!”

Well, I got the message. Loud and clear.

It’s taken me a long time to make peace with that.

Actually, I do have a 3rd child – and he IS a boy. He is an Angel Baby in Heaven. So leave me alone!

And stop with the questions!

Really, you don’t know what people have gone through.

I’ve heard from many women going through this. Let me share with you.

What about the woman who, after her molar pregnancy, her husband refused to discuss another child, and then went and got a vasectomy against her wishes?

How about the woman who has had 3 miscarriages in a row, and would give her right hand to have a healthy pregnancy?

It took a good friend of mine 4 years to get pregnant. She wanted kids more than anything, but I guess the timing wasn’t right.

Then there’s the friend who went through 4 failed attempts at Artificial Insemination, then 6 failed attempts at IVF before giving up. Do you think she doesn’t want a baby?

How about the woman whose husband is on extended deployment, or was injured in the line of duty and there is now an issue?

And the young woman who was diagnosed with cancer in her late 20s, who would love to be a mom more than life itself, but is on meds for the next couple of years?

I could keep going.

So…

DO NOT ASK A WOMAN WHY SHE DOESN’T HAVE KIDS OR DOES NOT WANT THEM.

You don’t know what’s been going on in her life.

If you want to think it fine, just don’t say it. You inflict pain on people and cause tremendous upset.

And I know that’s not your intent.

Forget the “Think before you speak.”

Just do not ask.

You might get yourself into serious trouble.

It’s not my fault if you get slugged.

Don’t say I didn’t warn you.

Yesterday was D-Day –

As in DUE DAY.

Yes, yesterday was my due date for the child that I lost.

I had been thinking about this for weeks.

Both of my girls were born a little early.

The first one at 37 weeks, 2 days; the second at 36 weeks, 4 days.

Most likely the baby would have been born already.

But yesterday was the day.

I joked with myself, reminding myself that May 4 is the birthday of an old boyfriend, and I didn’t want my child to be associated with that day.

Ha!

Fat chance.

It already is.

So how does one commemorate a lost little one?

I didn’t know what the day would bring.

I planned to be busy.

I wanted to be strong, in his honor.

I did say “his.”

Back in December, when I was going through the worst side effects of the chemo, I had a dream.

A beautiful cherub with gossamer wings appeared in front of me.

Hi Mommy,” he said.

“Don’t cry. Don’t be sad. I’m here in Heaven with Jesus. I’m OK and you are going to be OK too.”

I was stunned, as this amazing creature fluttered before me.

I didn’t get to say anything.

In an instant, he was gone.

As I tried to compose myself in the dream, he re-appeared.

“By the way, I’m a boy. Don’t cry! Everything’s going to be OK.”

And he was gone. I woke up.

While driving home from chemo that day, I felt awful and was frustrated that this wasn’t ending fast enough.

I swear I saw something shimmering and white fly past me.

It was the baby angel.

I was reminded of the dream, and instantly felt better.

I’d felt in my heart that the baby was a boy and this dream confirmed it for me.

Before you call me a whacko, you should know I’ve had prophetic dreams before.

Since then, when I’ve had difficult days, I have imagined him in the arms of Jesus, smiling and waving at me.

But I digress.

I didn’t know what the day would have in store.

The night before I’d spent an hour on the phone chatting with Boo’s pregnant Godmother.

She’s due in about 4 weeks.

She’s been gracious enough to “share” her pregnancy with me.

From seeing the awesome ultrasound pictures, to hearing about kicks, doctor appointments and planning the baby’s room, I feel like I’ve been part of the whole process.

Which has meant a lot to me.

We excitedly spoke about the new arrival.

She asked some questions, and I relived the anticipation of my girls’ arrivals.

I didn’t get sad.

It was fun to talk about all that again.

And fun to talk about her impending bundle of joy.

She’s going to be an incredible mom.

I’m so happy for her and can’t wait to meet her little one.

I went to sleep just feeling good for the great conversation with my dear friend.

That morning I woke up and instantly thought of my little angel in Heaven.

I came downstairs, and lit a candle for him, and said a prayer for him by name.

Yes, his name.

I’ve officially given him a name – the name he was supposed to have.

Somehow it made me feel more connected.

It made him seem real.

Staring at the flame, I thought of my precious cherub.

To my surprise, there were no tears.

Only smiles.

My heart just felt so full.

I went about my morning routine, and then the girls woke up.

They greeted me with what seemed to be even bigger smiles, and even greater enthusiasm.

There was so much love in that room.

It was a trouble-free morning – a gift from my girls – though they have no idea.

We took Boo to school, and Bebs and I went to meet a woman from my support group.

Her due day would have been today, however she’s already expecting again.

We had a good chat.

Just like old friends.

She’s 18 weeks along, and I can’t wait to see her with a big belly.

What an exciting time!

We’re also waiting on the birth of another baby – Boo’s friend from school is going to be a big sister anytime now.

So we’re on the baby watch, and I’m finding it positively delightful.

Boo and I have been cheering on her friend, that she’s going to be a great big sister.

Also, Boo wants to have her over for a sleepover so she can teach her all about being a big sister.

That will be a hoot!

As I sat down to write, I poured a glass of wine, and toasted my angel.

He’s here –  in my heart.

This weekend we are going to begin planting our garden.

I’ve decided that I’d like to honor our little one with a tree, or some sort of perennial, that I can nurture and watch grow.

When I’m having a bad day – which I do have every once and a while– I can go out there and talk to it and just look at it.

This plant – a beautiful living, breathing creation of God – will be a live memorial.

A tribute.

This is how I will commemorate my little angel.

And…

Be the best mom that I can be to his sisters and the best wife I can be to his daddy.

Be the best person I can be.

Help others who’ve experienced this type of loss.

And most importantly…

To love.

To live.


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BooBoo BeDoux

Bebs LaRoux

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