7.07.2014

but i will hold on hope

Before I became a mom, I was pretty naive as to how the whole thing worked. I thought that there were two steps to bringing home a baby: get pregnant, have baby. Both of these steps, of course, were easy. Isn't that what they teach you in high school? How easy it is to make a baby? It just takes one time? As a parent, I have seen the reality of it all unfold rather quickly. I struggle to think of one person I know who had things happen this easy or naturally. One person who didn't experience some kind of stress or trauma in getting pregnant, being pregnant or staying pregnant. Conceiving Ethan or Wylie was the easy part for us, though we have had many friends struggle month after month with it just not happening for them. My pregnancy with Ethan was physically hard and it was emotionally hard, too. I was supposed to be preparing for this new, exciting role as a mom but yet was on bedrest with preeclampsia, unable to do much but worry. Ethan had to be born at 36 weeks but, luckily, he was just fine. After losing Wylie so late in the pregnancy game, I started hearing from other people who have also experienced loss. It turns out there are many of them -- more than I imagined.

Whether it was trouble getting pregnant, a problematic pregnancy, a traumatic delivery, an early loss, a late term loss, several losses -- it seems like these things happen more frequently than I thought they did. I always thought I was the unnatural one for feeling that pregnancy was the most unnatural thing in the world, but now I see that it's not just me. Whereas I left Wylie's viewing feeling alone, I now see just a month and change later that I am surrounded by so many others who are the same. It's the reason that I write. It's the reason that I am hellbent on over-sharing every little detail, in the hopes maybe my words can make others feel less alone. In hopes that maybe by traveling with us on our journey, someone else will feel inspired to continue living theirs. I'm not a secretive person and I'm not someone who really cares much about privacy. I do better when I share, when I write, when I sort of let my life read a little more like an open book. It's like I told my doctor: if there is any silver lining to any of this, it's that I have the ability to help someone else. At this point, that's all I could possibly want.

I had an appointment with my perinatologist this afternoon. It was the one appointment so far that I was truly panicked about. It was the appointment I wanted, the one I begged my OB to help me set up, but the one I was so nervous to actually have. This was, of course, the building where I learned Wylie was sick. It's sort of hard to let any light in when your mind goes dark.

I brought my planner with the intent to jot down notes in case my mind was too fuzzy to truly comprehend the words that doctor was speaking, but I never actually used it. I just sort of started blurting out my fears and concerns and anticipating the worst. I've said it countless times but we hit the Doctor Jackpot and I don't know what I would do without the medical team we have on our side. I walked into my appointment all but shaking from anxiety and ready to break down at any moment, but within moments I realized that this appointment was a good thing. Our doctor had only good things to say. Hopeful things, happy things. Words of promise and a future for our family to expand the way I know it is meant to. Every bad feeling riding on my back sort of let go and jumped off and my entire being felt pounds lighter as I sat there and listened to our amazing doctor explain things in a brighter light than I anticipated. Our perinatologist estimated our risk to be lower than the 3% that I had previously quoted and it was as if every ball of anxiety in my veins just sort of dissipated in that moment. I've been trying so hard all of this time to cling to hope but never having a very good grasp. Today I perfected that. Today I sort of flung myself into the hope that I didn't know how to fully reach.

I go back and forth with being frustrated about there being no explanation why what happened to Wylie happened to Wylie. I'm supposed to accept that nature made some tragic, terrible, ugly mistake in the body of my beautiful, perfect daughter and figure out a way to move on, which is easier said than done. On the flipside, knowing that it isn't something genetic and knowing that the pain of this loss isn't something Ethan will one day have to go through with his own children, it's also a reassurance. Knowing that one day in our future when we decide the time is right, we can most likely bring a healthy baby home, it's a weight lifted off my own heart. It's hope. It's promise. It's some light to look forward to on the days that still feel a little dark. I don't think I will ever be satisfied with there being no explanation for why I lost my daughter, but right now, this hope is good enough to keep us pushing forward as a family. It has to be. And I know she's part of the light that guided us and kept us going.

Our perinatologist referred to Wylie as Ethan's sister today. She said it in passing and I know she didn't even think about it, but it meant more to me than I could ever begin to express to her. Wylie is Ethan's sister and she always will be, even if she isn't here anymore. It seems like a simple enough concept but so many other people are quick to act like she never existed, like she is somehow no longer a part of our family because the idea of her being so is supposed to be painful. At the end of the day, I am most grateful for the team of doctors we have. I know that I have the best people on the other end of the line when it comes time to say "let's do this." And because of their guidance, because of their hope and love, I know that time will come and that together we can bring a baby home awake one day.

7 comments:

  1. I'm so happy that you have so much support and love in your life and am thrilled to hear the wonderful news.

    ReplyDelete
  2. Ashley Ponder RichardsJuly 7, 2014 at 10:08 PM

    Thank you for continually sharing your story! I am thrilled that y'all received good news. I know I've said it before but I just love the name Wylie. I love that although I never knew her I know her through you. Her story through you gives me so much hope.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Lindsay @ youaretheroots.comJuly 8, 2014 at 8:20 AM

    Thank you <3


    I'm not at the point where I can even entertain the thought of another pregnancy yet, but I hope in time it becomes a little less sad a thought. I know we will be in the best hands. <3

    ReplyDelete
  4. Lindsay @ youaretheroots.comJuly 8, 2014 at 8:21 AM

    Thank you so much, Ashley! I love her name, too. It just fit her, if that makes any sense.


    I am glad that I can share her with others. She is a remarkable girl; a tiny one with such a big fight. <3

    ReplyDelete
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  6. Lindsay, I know I don't know you personally , and I don't know how many random clicked connections i made on Facebook before i stumbled across your pageI. I guess it started when I went onto my sons preschool's FB page which led me to a comment that someone made who surprisingly had a relative of mine tagged, which led me to kids lunches , the to the tantrum hair product ( I'm a salon and spa owner / hairstylist ). I Love what the product line represents. my salon carries all paraben free products and I plan to check out this line for my clients.... Blah blah blah,.... but then found your blog page about Wylie and........I'm still here..... Still weeping ....wanting to reach out and tell you although I don't know you , and have never had the good fortune of seeing your beautiful Wylie , that Wylie will forever stay in my heart. As a mom I feel very deeply , a tremendous pain for you and your family. we are all on a journey in this life but some things that people must bear just seem unbearable . It's with Gods grace only that we can endure our losses. I pray for gods grace to surround you and your beautiful family, and continue to lift up your hearts - as it has surrounded your beautiful daughter , and little sister to Ethan...WylieπŸ‘Ό.
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