Ice Cream

For the last 6 weeks I've been on this diet regimen that I have refused to break. It all started when I went for my 6 week checkup after Nolan was born. I had decided that once I was cleared medically to return to all activities, I was going to hit the gym running. Well, not exactly running... more like dancing. Since I took to Zumba so well, I was determined that I was going to dance my way fit again. I had set a goal for myself that before Marshall and I got pregnant again I wanted to be back down to my pre-pregnancy weight.

Over the weekend, Marshall and I decided to start trying to get pregnant again. Now I'm not quite back down to my target weight, but I'm certainly on the right track. I've lost 20 of the  nearly 30 pounds I gained with Nolan and I feel the best I've felt in a long time. I also plan to continue the exercise regimen whether I become pregnant or not, but the dieting will have to cease. At least by then hopefully I will be in the mindset to eat healthier since I have gotten out of the habit of sodas, processed foods and snacks. It's as though the death of my infant son really made me evaluate my own health. Now I'm not an unhealthy person by any means and I'm of normal weight for my size, but I could stand to be more fit and a little bit more conscious about what goes into my body. But after weeks of no candy, no snacks, no sodas, no anything the slightest bit unhealthy, I decided to splurge a little. After all, if you don't allow yourself to have it every once in awhile you are more likely to go off the diet and stay off it. So today when our director got an ice cream truck for the crew, I indulge. No cone though, just the one scoop of ice cream but it was enough. In fact, I couldn't even finish it all. I figured it was my treat for feeling like I'm far enough along in my healing that I'm able to consider having another baby. Who knows when we might actually become pregnant, but at least we've taken a huge leap in the right direction. We are willing and able to try it again, knowing we will be scared beyond belief for the entire 9 months. Most people expect some reprieve after the first trimester, but after having a stillborn baby late in the third trimester I think it's safe to say we will receive no reprieve from our angst the next go round. But for now I'm not going to worry about it. I'm going to eat my ice cream and remind myself that with each new hurdle we face and conquer there will be other rewards ahead for us. Hopefully, one day we will receive the biggest reward imaginable - another baby that we are able to take home, love, and watch grow up.

Showers

I had been dreading today for weeks. My husband told me not to do it. My nurse friend Tifni told me to not push myself and just do what feels right. My friend Jessica said the strength of my friendship with Tina will help me through it. Today was the day of the baby shower - Tina's baby shower. Just 10 weeks ago I was at Tina's house as she, Susan and Stacey hosted my baby shower. That was one week before I found out my baby had passed away and gave birth to my stillborn baby boy. I had been dreading having to go to a baby shower and feign happiness and excitement. But, she was one of my dearest friends. Any other "just friend" and I would most certainly have not even entertained going. Tifni warned me that sometimes the anticipation was worse than the actual event. But at the first baby shower Tifni went to after her son Brody was born stillborn she had severe anxiety and only stayed long enough to drink some punch. Oh great! If Tifni, a labor and deliver nurse, can't make it through a baby shower 6 months after her son was stillborn how am I going to do it less than 3 months after Nolan was stillborn?

Yesterday after returning home from Zumba class in the morning, I stepped into a hot shower and was so completely overcome with grieve and anxiety I thought surely I will not be able to do it. I sat down in the shower and let the hot water rain overtop me as I sobbed. It wasn't the pretty sort of cry either. It's that kind you do only in the shower where nobody can see or hear you. Where your tears mix so quickly with the shower water streaming down you that you don't know which is producing more water - you or the shower head. I stayed there in the shower sobbing away my fears until the warm water ran out and I was forced to suck it up and get out. After a shower like that, I feel drained - emotionally and physically. I think I cried so much I had made myself dehydrated.

Still, I agreed to go to the shower with my mom this morning only if she was willing to leave whenever I wanted to. We pulled up to the huge brick house in Landfall early, turned around and parked out on the street plotting our easy getaway.  When we walked through the large glass door we were greeted by Tina, her mother-in-law Sherry and Jo, the hostess. They all knew what it took for me to step through that door and hugged me and said they understood if I couldn't make it through. I almost cried when Tina hugged me and told me she knew how hard it was for me to be there. Oh Tina, you have no idea and I pray you never do! Jo immediately handed me an alcohol concoction to drink and it could have been anything at that point, I would have drank it. If I had been smart I probably would have had a glass of wine at home by myself first. Instead, I would proceed to drink not one, but three glasses of Prosecco and blood orange soda. Early on I almost had to excuse myself when I saw a woman walk in with her baby boy. Really? REALLY? This was a luncheon baby shower. A fancy luncheon in Landfall. Not the kind of baby shower you bring your baby to and some woman had to bring her baby?! I about lost it. Especially when she came up to me to introduce herself and her baby boy. Seriously woman you have no idea who you are talking to right now. If you did, you would not dare come anywhere near me. I smiled politely and downed my glass right in front of her. I think she got the hint that I had no desire to make small talk with her. Anyone else sure, but not her. Not this mother happily bouncing her baby boy on her hip and showing him off to all that was there. No, this is just too much. I thought I might just vomit on her if she continued to talk to me. Fortunately for her, she walked away at the right time.

From that point on, every time the door opened and another guest arrived, I cringed at the thought of more babies showing up. If this was about to turn in to romper room, I was so out of here. Thankfully, no more babies came. I made it through the beautiful luncheon just fine. After one drink, I knew that if I wanted to continue to drink I would have to eat something or become that drunk woman at a baby shower. So I sat out on the back porch overlooking the patio and ate my little cucumber sandwiches and drank my Prosecco & orange soda. I chose not to sit at the table with Tina, but instead sat with her MIL Sherry, my mom, Susan and Stacey. I figured any talk at Tina's table was surely to be baby talk and so it was probably best to just steer clear of that.

No sooner had I finished my second drink and it was time to open up presents. Okay good. Maybe she would open my gift and I could leave. I pulled out my camera since Tina failed to bring one of her own and started to snap away. I've found that by viewing things through a camera lens we are removed from the situation a bit. The camera gives you a different perspective on things. I compare it to standing in a rain shower and looking out. The water gathers on your lashes and skews your view of the world around you. That is what a camera lens does to me. The way you view the world with your eye and the way a camera sees it are totally different. In a way the photography taking gave me something to focus on instead of focusing on Tina's baby shower and her joy and excitement. I also noticed at this point that the baby boy was missing. Apparently, the woman wised up and had someone come get him. Thank God! Maybe I would make it through this. And it was a good thing because wouldn't you know it, my present was the 2nd to last one Tina opened. It was hard to hear all the mothers in the room give Tina advice - "Oh, that thing was a lifesaver with my son" or "Harper is going to love that!" If life hadn't been so cruel to me I would have been one of those mothers telling her what I had learned since Nolan's birth.

I exhaled a big sigh of relief when the present opening was finally over. I had come, stayed and I was done. I picked up my purse, hugged Tina bye and was out the door. You would have thought I was running back to the car and probably would have if my mother could have kept up with me. I shut the door to the car and breathed normally for the first time all morning. I felt my heartbeat slowly return to normal as Mom cranked up the car. She looked over at me, patted me on the knee and said, "Well, we survived it." Just then I realized how hard it was for my mother too. I hadn't been the only one dreading the baby shower, she had too. She told me as we drove back to my house that there were a few times she started to get choked at the shower.

I sometimes forget that Marshall and I are not the only ones still grieving the loss of our little boy. Our parents are all still very much grieving him. So are our families and our close friends. We weren't the only ones that had gotten their hopes up and made plans for a future that included Nolan. Everyone's plans had been destroyed in one second that day in March.

After such an exhausted morning mentally, I probably would have spent the rest of my day sleeping and most likely crying some. However, I had to drive with my Mom to Goldsboro for my cousin Sandra's 50th birthday party. I was excited to go see some of my family, even though I hadn't seen Sandra since I was in the hospital having Nolan. I knew when she showed up at the hospital that even though it had been 19 years since her son passed away, being there for me took a lot of bravery on her part. The death of your child is something you never get over and I'm sure my whole life there will be new obstacles for me to overcome. The first time you do anything after your child passes away is an obstacle. The first time you come home without him. The first time you tell someone he's passed. The first time you look at his pictures. The first time you go to a baby shower that isn't for him. The first time you hold another baby. The first time you are there with someone else who also has lost a child. Even though our losses are so completely different, they are the same. We both lost our sons. It was great to see my cousins and my Aunt Jo and of course to see Sandra's surprised face when she realized the party was for her. As I hugged her to leave she pulled me close and whispered in my ear, "you will have another baby." I nodded. She should know. She had another son.

You know that saying, "when it rains, it pours." Usually, I use it in reference to work, but today it seemed to be the sentiment of the day. My day was full of emotions, firsts, hard hugs and fighting back tears. I felt exhausted by the time the second party was over and was completely done trying to hold back tears. If one more person hugged me I would probably break down sobbing. Before leaving Goldsboro I decided to meet some friends for coffee at Starbucks. Jeff and Tori had gone to high school with me and had been very supportive when Nolan passed away. They even drove down to Wilmington for his memorial service. Jeff, the joker, I knew would make me laugh and probably do me some good after the exhausting emotional day I'd had. Sally also turned out to meet us and we had a good time catching up and laughing. To add to our amusement in walked four people wearing hotdog and hamburger shirts and a mime! We had a good time musing in our heads the story behind it all and finally got the guts to not only ask them, but ask if we could take our picture with them. The hotdog and hamburger people all worked for the Air Force and had just found the shirts at Walmart and decided it would be funny to wear them. The mime was a girl that had just had a dance recital that day. I left my friends feeling like a weight had been lifted off me. The laughing had done me some good after such a heavy day. Hopefully after a day of showers, I will have a dry and sunny day tomorrow.

For More Information on STILLBIRTH

Stitches

During my pregnancy with Nolan I decided I wanted to learn to knit so I bought one of those "how to knit" kits and started to try to teach myself. After several nights spent trying to learn with my friend Susan, I could barely do much more than cast on (and that we only learned how to do after watching a YouTube video). So, I solicited the help of my Aunt Jo who willingly came down to Wilmington, kitting bag in tow. After a few hours with her I could not only cast on, I could knit and purl. Triumph! I immediately bought some blue baby yarn and started to work on a baby blanket for Nolan. Back and forth in a straight line, no pattern - surely I could handle that. A blanket proved to be much more time consuming than I had originally thought so I put it down for a bit and tried my hand at some baby toboggans. After a few tries I did manage to make 2 small yellow toboggans for Nolan - one of which I put on him for his pictures when the Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep photographer came. Since Nolan's passing I had not knitted a stitch or even picked up my knitting bag.

Today I decided to break it out again, after all I wanted to eventually finish the baby blanket. I started to continue knitting the blanket, but quickly put it down. Instead I took out the loom and tried another toboggan - this time a pink one. I decided that since I knew my friend Tina didn't knit, I would make her soon to be baby girl a toboggan like I had made Nolan. I even stitched a blue bow onto it for good measure. I thought it might be more difficult to pick up knitting again and I'm sure I'm still some time away from finishing the blanket I once started for Nolan, but I found that knitting stitches to make something else entirely different was actually pleasurable. With every stitch I knitted, I felt just a tiny bit more pulled together. It was almost as if the stitches were keeping me from unravelling. Each day continues to bring new obstacles to overcome. It seems as though everything reminds me of Nolan, but there are some things that are more closely tied to him than others. Knitting was one of those things. I had wanted to learn to knit so I could be one of those mothers that actually made things for their child. Sure my limits would have probably been hats, scarfs, blankets and maybe mittens, but it was something. I was afraid if I went any longer without attempting to stitch another purl stitch I would completely forget how to and Aunt Jo's tutorial session would have been all in vain. At least now I know when I'm ready to pick up the stitches of the blanket where I left off, I can.

For More Information on STILLBIRTH

Sunny Days

After a few days of gloom and a day of constant rain, I was so thankful to see the sun again today. I am one of those people who's mood is directly affected by the weather - or at least weather that lingers for more than a day. For this reason, I would never be able to live in Seattle, WA. Now while I'm sure it is beautiful there and I would love to visit I simply could not live somewhere where it rains 150 days out of the year, is cloudy 201 days out of the year and partly cloudy an additional 93 days. Okay, so no, Seattle is not actually the wettest city in the US but one could argue that it certainly is the most gloomy. I personally would be beyond depressed if I lived somewhere where the sunny days were few and far between. My body requires the natural Vitamin D the sun gives me and no amount of supplement will make up for the loss of natural sunlight. Yesterday I did what most people wish they could do on rainy days - I lounged on the couch and watched TV all day. I did finally manage at 4pm to get dressed and go to Zumba and then over to a friend's for dinner, but otherwise my day was just like the weather outside - a complete wash! Needless to say, today when I awoke and it was sunny I felt reenergized and couldn't wait to get outside. The added boost got me to not one, but two Zumba classes. While invigorating, they were inside so I still had to find some things to do to enjoy the sunny day. I was so hard up for things to do that not only did I wash and flush the boat but I washed the dog! Fortunately, Sally and Stacey saved me from finding any more outrageous chores and came over for some Hula Hooping.

I won't say I feel as though I get a good workout from Hula Hooping, but I most certainly get a good laugh. Now that I have finally mastered keeping the Hula Hoop up, I have moved on to trying a trick or two. Mostly just trying to move the Hula Hoop from above my head to down onto my waist. More times than naught I simply end up throwing the Hula Hoop across the yard in the direction of Stacey. She claims she is going to start wearing a helmet when hooping with me. While we Hula Hoop, I usually bring out our wireless outdoor speaker so we can have some inspiring tunes to hoop too. Tonight I piped in the Pandora "Club/Dance" station from the computer for our listening pleasure. It seemed as though every song that came on was from the playlist of my various Zumba instructors and it made me want to start Zumba in the front yard instead of hooping. I truly hope Zumba sticks around for awhile because I am certainly enjoying it.

All in all today was a really great day. Staying physically busy keeps my mind busy too and doesn't allow for much wallowing in my sorrows. Today the show I work on started filming. I felt a little as though I should have been there, but I also realized I was definitely not prepared to be on a film set yet. My mind still wanders easily, especially when given some down time and we all know there can be plenty of that on a film set!

Still, I felt a bit lost today as I felt a bit like life was continuing on without me. That probably doesn't make much sense but up until now I've been off work, but would have been off regardless. I had always planned on not working between seasons on Homeland and only took the job on The Occult because it was filming at home. Now Homeland is back up and filming without me and I feel a bit as if I'm standing still while the world is continuing to orbit around me. It was very perceptive of Marshall to ask me when I mentioned to him that Homeland started filming today if I felt like I should be there. In a way I guess I do, but at the same time I know I'm not ready to be there. I'm anxious to see everyone but I'm not ready to leave the comfort of my home and my friends. Although I don't go in there everyday, it's comforting knowing I can go into the nursery whenever I want and allow myself to grieve Nolan in there. In the nursery is where I keep my journal to Nolan and it is where I write my letters to him. When I leave to work on Homeland I will no longer have that comfort. It will be a hard transition for me, but also one I know I have to make. Homeland starting to film has been a wake up call for me in a way. It is now time for me to start to mentally prepare myself to go back to work. I've been receiving emails and text messages from Homeland for some time now, but the start of filming makes the looming date of me returning back to work more real. I would like to stay forever in my la la land of limbo where I can walk around in a haze and it be okay that I'm broken. Going back to work means I have to put on a facade that I'm healed and everything is okay - when, in fact, everything is never going to be okay again. There will surely be many sunny days ahead in my life, but underneath the surface of all of them will be a storm brewing. Hopefully, most days the rain won't come and the thunder will be kept inside so that nobody else is even aware of the turmoil inside me.

Baby Mine

I think most all women have that one movie that they watch whenever they want a good cry. Well, mine is Beaches. To me, it is the saddest movie ever made yet I continue to watch it over and over again. I don't know whether it is the story or the music that gets to me the most but no matter how many times I see it, I cry. For me, the songs that make up the soundtrack of Beaches have even a deeper meaning than the movie itself.

When I was 12 years old, my Nana passed away (my mother's mother). She died in the hospital from colon cancer. My mom and her sister sat by her side the whole time. My uncles and grandfather could not stand to be there and watch her die and eventually left the room. My mom sang "Wind Beneath My Wings" to Nana while she held her hand. Nana loved to hear my mom sing and I'm sure it was comfort to her at the time. It was also the last song she would ever hear my Mom sing. But, I also know my mother would never be able to hear that song again and not think of Nana. Songs are funny like that. Truly powerful songs have a way of bringing you back to a time and a place just as they can also help you to heal. The same year that my Nana passed away, I danced in my school talent show to "Wind Beneath My Wings." My mom said she cried the whole performance. Without a doubt, I know it was the song that brought tears to my mother's eyes, not my dance.

Today while doing some work in the office, I had iTunes on randomly playing songs of its own choosing. JoJo was keeping me company by napping in the middle of the office floor. After a few hours of me working and JoJo napping, iTunes picked a Bette Midler song to play - "Baby Mine." As I listened to the words, thinking of Nolan something amazing happened. JoJo got up and left the room, walking towards the nursery. I waited a few minutes and then followed her. And there she was, laying at the threshold to the nursery. She normally lays in thresholds only when there are multiple people in the house. I think it is her way of being able to keep tabs on everyone in the house. When Marshall is home and in the living room and I'm in the office, JoJo lays in the threshold to the office. When I'm home alone and in the office she lays in the middle of the floor or under my desk. If one of us is in the bedroom and the other in the living room, she lays in the threshold to the bedroom. I found it truly amazing that during a song that brought Nolan to my mind, it also brought him to hers. Maybe his spirit lingers in the nursery and maybe dogs really do have a deeper, more spiritual understanding of things than we could have ever imagined. I don't know the answer, but what I do know is that I was not the only one to think of him at that moment. I also know that Nolan wasn't just mine and Marshall's baby. JoJo also thought he belonged to her and had he lived she would have been so protective over him. She probably would have spent more nights sleeping in the nursery with him than in our room with us. "Baby Mine" is just as much a lullaby from me to Nolan as it is from JoJo to Nolan. Marshall and I often imagined how she would be with him. He probably would have rolled his cars all over her and she would have loved it. She would have been like the tree in Shel Silverstein's book "The Giving Tree." JoJo would have given everything she had for Nolan, even when she had nothing left to give.

For More Information on STILLBIRTH

String Test

My family are believers in all things supernatural and other worldly - God, angels, spirits, ghosts. When I was a child my father worked in an office that was over 100 years old and once was a Pre Civil War farm house in Chantily, VA. Often my Dad would go in being the last to leave the night before and the first to arrive in the morning and the furniture would have been rearranged into a semi circle. Sometimes doors that were closed would be open the next morning, or vise versa. The attic was on the same floor with some of the offices and you could hear rattling in the attic but walk in there and nothing was there. My Dad said he could be sitting at his desk and feel his presence. After my Dad had been working there for some time, the spirit would move things on my Dad's desk and when my Dad asked him to move them back the spirit would respond. My Dad finally decided the spirit was that of a confederate soldier, which would explain the rattling sound when he moved - his equipment moving around on his body. He was a friendly enough spirit and not one that did any harm. He seemed more playful than anything. I was in elementary school when my Dad worked there and every time I came to his office I hoped that I would see or hear the spirit. Regretfully, I never did.

When I was 12 and my Nana passed away, I remember looking up to the sky on the day of her funeral and seeing in the clouds a stairway up into the Heavens. I stared at it for some time fascinated and finally determined it was a stairway for my Nana so that she could make her way to Heaven. Then I turned 14 and my 5 year old cousin Christopher passed away. On the day of his funeral I felt foolish looking up to the Heaven expecting to see a stairway, but alas there it was. Amazed that this happened twice I stared at it making sure I wasn't seeing something that wasn't there. But, indeed clear as day was a staircase in the clouds so that Christopher could make his way up there. It became a ritual for me whenever anyone close to me passed away and every time I saw it. The next staircase was for my Grandfather and the one after that my Aunt Fran. I was somewhat disappointed when at Nolan's memorial service there was no staircase. I thought, well how is he supposed to get to Heaven then? But then I remembered something - Nolan was only a baby, he couldn't walk. A staircase would be of no use to him. On the contrary, that day the clouds were like a thick blanket, one that could easily wrap Nolan in to carry him up to Heaven.

As a believer in angels, ghosts and spirits, I have always tried to be open to feeling their presence in my life. I can say with absolute conviction that I have indeed felt the presence of a spiritual being only once in my life thus far and it was that of my Aunt Fran. It had been weeks after her passing and I was walking from my bedroom to my bathroom when I felt it. Right in the middle of the door jam as though I had just passed through it. It was the most bizarre feeling and it stopped me dead in my tracks. Out of the corner of my I caught a glimpse of an orb. I blinked as it was hazy looking - the hazy clouds you can sometimes see if your eyes are dry or overly wet. I blinked again to clear my eyes, but it was still there. Then in a split second it disappeared. It was the most amazing yet bizarre experience that I had ever had. I never told anyone about it. At the time I felt like if I told someone it would taint the experience or make it seem less real. So I kept the experience to myself.

My strong belief in the supernatural and other worldly is not limited to ghost, spirits and angels. In fact, I am one of those people that believes there is some merit in some, but not all, wives tales. I'm a skeptic at first, like most, but after I see them work over and over again I quickly become a believer. One such wives tale is the string test. I was first introduced to the string test when I was a young girl as my family loved to perform it on any pregnant woman in the family - and it was always right! When I was 12, I had my first string test done on me. By then my family had realized that it worked even if you weren't pregnant. It would show you one by one all the children you were to have. On my mother it showed only one - a girl. On my aunt, three boys. Ever since I was 12 it has always showed the same thing - 2 kids; a boy and then a girl. Just to be safe when I was pregnant with Nolan my mom did the string test once again with the same result - a boy then a girl. Of course, it did indeed appear to be correct as Nolan was a boy. After the string test proved to be right on me, Marshall too became a believer in what my Mom likes to call our hoodoo.

Ever since Nolan's passing I have been wishing that I didn't believe so much in silly things like old wives tales and in particular the string test. I hate the idea that we might never have another son, that Nolan was Marshall's only chance at a little mini me he could dress like him and take surfing and that Nolan was my only chance at having a momma's boy. For once in my life I tried to not believe in the supernatural because the string test simply could not be correct. I need to have another son. So today against my best judgement I decided to do the string test again on myself. I wanted to do it alone so I could be disappointed in the results without anyone around to judge me. So I got out my needle and my string and my pencil (even though my Mom claims you don't need the pencil). It took me some time to steady my hand before I could hold it in the air. I watched with bated breath as the pencil began to swing up and down the length of my arm. Yep, a boy. Nolan. I held my breath as the pencil came to a stop. I knew what it would do next. The same thing it has done for 20 years. Swing back and forth across my arm signifying a girl. Slowly the pencil began to move again and to my surprise it was repeating its previous swing - up and down my arm. Another boy!? That can't be right. I hopefully watched it as it swung strong and true and then stopped. It only swung one more time. Back and forth across my arm. There's my girl. I was truly shocked by the results. That can't be. How is it that now it is going to change it's plan for me. I waited some time and I performed the string test again. This time I used the other arm for added insurance. Sure enough it showed 3 children now where there was previously 2 - boy, boy, girl. What is perhaps even more bizarre is that now the first boy is a very small swing whereas the second one swings fierce and true as does the girl swing.

Call me crazy. Call it hoodoo or voodoo or just plain ludicrous. Call it what you will, but for a mother who has just lost her son it gives me hope. Hope that not only will we be blessed with another chance at having children, but hope that we might one day have another son. Personally, I would love a boy or a girl as long as the baby was healthy and we were blessed with the opportunity to raise him or her. But having the hope that Nolan wasn't our only chance at having a son to raise and watch grow into a man is necessary to help us push through the pain of losing him. Maybe the string test will prove to be wrong, maybe not. It doesn't matter though. For the time being it gives us both the hope we need to move forward and try again.

For More Information on STILLBIRTH

Bloody Mary

It's always a bittersweet end to any long weekend - the thought of going back to work. It is especially difficult when that work takes you away from your home and the ones you love. Such is the case with Marshall right now. Today he had to leave to go back to Charleston, SC to work on Army Wives. In order to not spend the afternoon alone, I headed over to Susan and Stacey's pool to hang out with them and Shea. Sometimes you just need your girl friends and today was one of those days. Thankfully for me, I have amazing girl friends that are always there no matter what. I even had the opportunity to see Shea's mom, sister and nephews for a bit. As with most community pools, there were tons of kids and I worried at first if it was going to bother me. But, a very strong Bloody Mary later and that worry was long gone. Note to self, Stacey makes very strong Bloody Mary's so don't drink them if you are planning on driving anywhere any time soon. Fortunately for me, I was not.










I have never been much of a drinker, mostly because I had very little tolerance for alcohol. A couple of strong drinks in college and I was DRUNK. I do enjoy the occasional buzz but have learned that one glass of wine or one strong Bloody Mary is about my limit. Alcohol can often be a source of solace for people in situations like mine. While my husband doesn't drink at all and I drink very little, it obviously has not been an avenue that either of us have considered. Although, I must admit I have found myself drinking on more occasions than I probably would otherwise even if my drinking is limited to one drink. Alcohol is also something I did not partake in at all while pregnant. I know some people do and some think a glass of wine is okay but I am not one of those people. I believe that if a glass of wine can give me a good buzz, what in the world will it do to my 5lb baby? Since I'm sure Marshall and I will try to have another baby soon, I kind of feel like taking more opportunities to partake in drinking a glass of wine now since I might have to soon give it up again for another 9 months. It's like caffeine in that regard. I have been drinking way more coffee than I ever normally would. I'm a one cup of coffee type of girl, but when I was pregnant I also gave up all caffeine. I occasionally drank a decaf cup of coffee but it just wasn't the same so I eventually said why bother. And so today I not only indulged in a full afternoon of fun, sun, bloody marys and girl time, I capped it off with a cup of coffee. Perhaps that's why I can't seem to go to sleep before 3 am?

For More Information on STILLBIRTH

Building Bridges

Memorial Day weekend for most means cookouts, beer, the beach and friends, but for those with family or friends in the military it means much more. It means remember those that have sacrificed their lives for our country and those that have and are continuing to put their lives at risk for their country. While I myself don't believe in the war and think our troops are better served at home helping the citizens of our own country, I having a father that served in the Vietnam War recognize the service these men and women are doing for our country. It shames me that these people put their lives on the line everyday and are so poorly repaid for their service. So many of these people come out of the service with very little to call their own and our country fails to look after these people. Our government does only slightly better for soldiers today than it did back when my Dad served. It is no wonder so many Vietnam Vets are homeless or sick the way the government and the US citizens failed to take care of them and support them when they returned home. No matter what your beliefs on the military and war are you still should appreciate what these people are doing. If a war did come to the US these would be the people fighting on our behalf and saving our lives. They would risk their lives to save those of people they don't even know. That is something I don't think I could ever do. Sure I would risk my life for my loved ones, but for a total stranger? Probably not.

As I sat on the Intercoastal and had lunch with my husband I watched the Wrightsville Beach bridge go up allowing passage of a big boat. It got me thinking about bridges -  ones that we build, ones that we cross, and ones that are impassable. In war, bridges are highly coveted objects. The side that holds control over a bridge is often at an advantage. However, in life bridges can be the obstacle that holds people together or keeps them apart. Building bridges is often a way to forge friendships with people and move forward in a career. Burning bridges, on the contrary, is a way of dissolving those friendships and work relations. Now I don't know the exact origins of these phrases but it seems to me they could directly be derived from wartime. In order to make allies in war one could have literally helped the other side to build a bridge or conquer a bridge in order to take the advantage in the fight. Conversely, in war if one wanted to keep the other side from passing or wanted to diminish the advantage one simply had to set burn a bridge, thus destroying it and any advantage that came with it.

In dreams bridges symbolise decisions we are finding hard to make. Maybe we are too emotionally involved to decide or we could be coming to an emotional junction and must decide which path to take. I find the bridge today symbolic in my life as it is opening up and allowing others to pass through, I too find myself opening up more and more emotionally and allowing others in to help. Up until recently, I have mostly submerged myself in my writing and refusing to really talk about Nolan. 

But with time more and more people have been reaching out and asking how I'm doing and I've been forced to talk more openly about it. I can't just say "fine" or "I'm okay" because everyone knows this isn't the truth. Now my response is usually, "I'm doing better" or "I'm getting through it." These responses seem more accurate. I'm still here, I'm alive, I wake up every day and I get out of bed, therefore I am getting through it. Bridges are also symbols of compromise, showing that you may be trying to heal some differences. Emotionally I am doing just that - trying to heal and compromise my inner feelings of turmoil with thoughts of healing and moving forward. I feel as though internally I am building lots of tiny bridges to help me move forward in my healing process. Every time I come to an impasse that seems impossible to overcome, I slowly build an emotional bridge that allows me to eventually move forward and continue putting one foot in front of the other. 

I know people that have never experienced a loss as great as losing one's child have no grasp on the healing process and the fact that you don't just get better after a few weeks, months or even years. It is something that you will continue to struggle with the rest of your life. I will never not struggle to get out of bed, to put one foot in front of the other and to continue on living - the struggle will simply get easier with time. There will be days that are more of a struggle than others and I will still be building internal bridges for the rest of my life in order to continue moving forward.

For More Information on STILLBIRTH

Tree of Life

I'm sure everyone knows about the tree of life, but do you know what it really represents? Sure those who know the Bible know that it is the Tree in the Garden of Eden whose fruits impart eternal life, but what about the other meaning? Did you know that it also represents the evolutionary divergence of all living creatures? Then there is also the Celtic meaning of the Tree of Life. The Celts believed the trees of life had many special powers. The Celtic Tree of Life depicts different forces of nature that converge together to create harmony. Celtic people attributed many qualities like wisdom, strength and longevity to the Tree of Life.

Another meaning associated with the Celtic Tree of Life is rebirth. It was believed that the Tree of Life connected the upper and lower words - its roots penetrating into the depths and connecting with the lower world, its branches growing and stretching to the heaven and the trunk remaining in the plane of earth. It was thought that gods in the heaven used the trees to communicate with humans and some of the trees were even capable of carrying messages to the "Otherworld." I found this belief the most interesting today. I'm not sure why exactly, but last week while in Charleston I got it into my head that I wanted a Tree of Life ring. Not being able to find one there, Marshall and I stumbled into T.S. Brown Jewelry Store today in downtown Wilmington. I wasn't in the store two minutes and I had found a Tree of Life ring and purchased it. When I got home I was intrigued to know more about the Tree of Life and its meaning. I wasn't sure exactly why I had been drawn to have one but in reading more I found out why.

The Tree of Life could symbolize a rebirth in me and my way of living after Nolan. Certainly I have forever been changed by his presence in my life and how his death affected me. I don't know that anyone could endure the death of a child and not be profoundly affected by it. As people struggled to help us find a reason for Nolan's death that medicine and science couldn't provide, it was mentioned to me that Nolan was nearly a full term baby at only 34 weeks. Had he lived the extra 6 weeks in utero that most babies live, he would have probably been a very large baby. Being a petite woman it was speculate by some that perhaps Nolan died when he did because if he didn't he would have killed me. It is strange to think that in this day and age women still die by childbirth. It is estimated that about 13 out of 100,000 women die in childbirth. That may seem miniscule compared to the estimated infant mortality of 679 out of 100,000 live births and the estimated 1 in 160 births ending in stillbirth! Nonetheless, I personally know of someone who's wife died during childbirth within the last few years. Maybe my friends' speculation was correct. Maybe had Nolan lived, I would have died. We will never know the answer to that but if that is true than indeed I have been reborn. Nolan gave me life by sacrificing his own.


I do like to also think of the Tree of Life as a way to communicate with the Heavens. By wearing a Tree of Life it allows me the comfort of knowing that Nolan can still be in communication with me and I with him. Marshall long ago got a Tree of Life tattoo on his arm. He got it for its Celtic meaning of harmony and balance in the universe, but I have to wonder if he too has thought that it now has more meaning than he ever anticipated. It is ironic that now three of his tattoos that had perhaps one dimensional meanings for him have now taken on such strong meanings. His Tree of Life that once just represented his Irish background and Buddhist beliefs in being one with nature now can mean his rebirth and his ability to communicate with the Heavens and Nolan. His praying hands that once was also just a Celtic emblem now can represent his angel in Heaven. "Until We Meet Again" are the words Marshall chose to tattoo to remind him of his personal struggle, his time in AA and an Irish Blessing he loves. It is also the line in the blessing we chose to read at Nolan's memorial service and have engraved on Nolan's plaque. For both of us, the Tree of Life has given us a life beyond Nolan's death, a life in which we exist and our little boy doesn't.

To find out more about Stillbirth: March Of Dimes

Due Date

May 12, 2012

"The death of a baby is like a stone cast into the stillness of a quiet pool; the concentric ripples of despair sweep out in all directions, affecting many, many people." - De Frain

I had always imagined this would be one of the happiest day of my life - the day my first child was due to enter this world. Unfortunately, instead it was a day filled with sadness and reminders of what might could have been. Since this day had been so significant in my pregnancy with Nolan, Marshall and I decided that it was a perfect day to remember him by. So, we had planned today as the day we would hold Nolan's memorial service on the beach.

I awoke fairly early today and went about making preparations for Nolan's memorial service by cleaning the house. It was when I took some trash out to the can that I first noticed it. There on our sickly gardenia bush which had yet to flower all year was one single white bud just beginning to flower. I couldn't believe it. Today of all days our gardenia had decided to bloom just one single flower. Some may say it was a sign from God. Perhaps it was. It most certainly was a reminder to me of Nolan. While Nolan wasn't able to be born on this day, that beautiful and sweet smelling gardenia flower was able to bud and flower today. The beautiful white flower reminded me of the innocence of my baby boy and his now angelic being. I smiled and paused long enough to smell the sweet flower and snap a picture or two of it.

It amazed me at the love and support we continue to receive throughout this whole thing. I imagined that after a few weeks people would go on with their lives and forget about us and our pain, but six weeks later that has yet to happen. Our friends and family continue to gather around us and throw their love at us.  We had many friends and family that travelled an hour and a half or two hours just to be with us today for Nolan's memorial service, most of whom never even had the privilege of meeting our precious baby boy. Marshall and I both were so grateful that all of these people cared about us and Nolan so much that they would take the time out of their day to travel down to Wilmington just to honor our son.

While I was pregnant, Marshall often sang to the baby and played his guitar for him. He often sang a lullaby with the verse "Daddy's little man, sweetest in the land." But there was one song which he often sang and which he always thought of when he thought of Nolan and that was "Beautiful Boy" by John Lennon.  At Nolan's memorial service, Marshall read the lyrics to John Lennon's "Beautiful Boy" and then read an old Irish Blessing which goes:

May the road rise up to meet you,
May the wind be always at your back.
May the sun shine warm upon your face,
The rains fall soft upon  your fields,
And until we meet again,
May God hold you in the palm of his hand.

The significance of this blessing is that Marshall has part of this blessing tattooed on himself. The words "until we meet again" wrap around Marshall's bicep, ending the sleeve of tattoos he has. Since Marshall's background is Irish and we picked and Irish name for Nolan, we thought that reading this Irish Blessing was very meaningful. It was the last two verses that both Marshall and I chose to use in having a remembrance piece made for each of us to wear. Marshall chose dog tags with these verses on them and Nolan's name and birthdate, while I chose a bracelet. 

Marshall also chose to share with everyone a letter he had written earlier in the day to Nolan. He told me when he wrote it and tried to read it to me that writing down what he was feeling was much different than talking about it his feelings. As he wrote he began to cry and realized that writing reaches down to a place that verbal communication can't. 

Marshall found what I had long realized - writing is therapeutic. While it is often difficult and brings out a lot of emotions that you may be suppressing, afterwards you feel cleansed. It is as if the writing has detoxed your body of those painful feelings and you leave feeling renewed and ready to take on the world. That's not to be said that those feelings don't return, but for a moment you feel better.




I imagined most people expected that I would read something I had written too, being the writer that I am. While I did think about it, I also knew that anyone reading my Facebook page or my Blog would already have heard anything that I was willing to share. My deepest and most painful emotional writing is found only in my personal letters to Nolan, of which nobody has read. So, instead I searched high and low for someone else's writing that would say in more succinct words what I was truly feeling. Perhaps I would find a poem, since poetry never was my thing anyway. Indeed, I found just what I was looking for. When I showed it to Marshall a couple of days ago, he immediately wanted to read it at Nolan's memorial service but then realized that I was probably showing it to him because I wanted to read it. He was right. It said everything I was thinking in just a few short words. With just a few words to read, I also thought I could possibly make it through reading them without crying. The poem I found that I read at Nolan's memorial service sums up what I'm feeling today and everyday better than any words I could possibly write.

Tears

If tears could build a stairway,

and memories a lane,

I'd walk right up to Heaven

and bring you home again.

No farewell words were spoken

no time to say goodbye

you were gone before I knew it,

and only God knows why.

My heart still aches in sadness

and secret tears still flow,

what it meant to lose you,

no one will ever 
know.

My Mom (Nolan's YaYa) had always found it interesting that there appeared to be the number 3 surrounding Nolan. Nolan was born on the 30th day of the 3rd month (March) at 1:03am. He weighed 5lbs 3oz and was 21" long (a multiple of 3). For that reason, YaYa decided to get 3 blue heart shaped balloons to send up to the heavens to Nolan. YaYa, Marshall and myself all attached a note to one of the balloons with a personalized message to Nolan. We are a religious family that has always believed in the holy trinity of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. As my mom read a prayer she then said that the 3 balloons also represented the holy trinity.

Through all this hardship our friends and our family have been there with words of encouragement and support. Perhaps one of the most poetic has been our friend Shea. Shea and I went to high school together and played soccer together. Needless to say, we have known each other longer than we haven't at this point. She has posted some of the most beautiful words on her Facebook during all of this about her own experiences and feelings and about us. So much of what she has written has helped me to better deal with the sorrow. On the day Nolan was born Shea's status update said this, "Most people only dream of angels, today I held one." When we planned Nolan's memorial service I was hoping that Shea would once again decide to share her thoughts about Nolan. I didn't want to ask her as I most certainly did not want to make her feel obligated, but I was happy when I saw her at my house furiously writing something early today. I knew she must be writing something about Nolan.

Fortunately, she not only wrote a beautiful poem about Nolan, but she also decided to share it with everyone there. Marshall and I were hoping other people would decide to share their thoughts with everyone and we are glad that Shea, my Mom and my Dad all decided to do so. No matter how brief or how poetic their words were, they all mattered to us. As parents it was warming to hear other people speak about the profound affect our son's life and death had been on their own lives. I always knew my child would drastically change my life forever, but I never knew he would impact so many others too.

For one of Nolan's baby showers, our friend Stacey had taken some seashells and attached a pearl inside of each one and written different words inside of them like "love," "kindness," "honesty." They were meant to be wishes for Nolan that everyone would take and then toss into the ocean and say a little prayer for him. 

Unfortunately, at the baby shower Stacey forgot to tell everyone about them so only a few were actually taken. We decided we didn't want the wishes to go unwished, so we passed them out to everyone so they could take one and toss it into the ocean and say a little prayer to Nolan. As we did so, Marshall pointed out that yet 

again another set of threes was coming into play surrounding Nolan. This time it was the trilogy of the mother nature - land, water, sky. We let balloons go into the sky to reach Nolan in the Heavens and we tossed seashells into the ocean with wishes on them. We also had a dozen white roses that we also floated out to sea in honor of Nolan. I'm not much into numerology or what it all means, but one thing is for sure - threes are very special and rare.