So final

As I mentioned in my previous post, emptying what little existed of Avery's room in our moving process was a very difficult and emotional task for us. Even though it was over a week ago, I still wanted to share that day with anyone reading. It was such a huge piece of our journey through this. And maybe it can be a little window into loss for those reading, who aren't aware of the severity of losing a baby and how it continues to impact life...

Welcome to Avery's room. We found this sign a month or so after Avery was gone. It was probably not the smartest thing to do, marking a bedroom with her name after she was already gone, but to us, that was still her room. It barely got to be hers at all. So I guess we wanted to do a little more decorating for her... the decorating we didn't get a chance for.

This is really all that consisted of Avery's room. The little cart used to be out of the closet against the wall, but mine and Daniel's dads moved it into the closet a few days after Avery died so it wouldn't hurt to see it the next time we entered the room. It was a nice gesture, but there was nothing anyone could do to soften that blow. So here, in the closet, are all the things we had gotten for Avery in the 25 weeks she was with us.

The stack of books that used to sit on my night table. I loved flipping through these. I loved reading about names and reading about Avery's stages of growth and what she was doing each week. It was all so exciting.

Each week at the grocery store, I would pick up new items that I would need. I clipped coupons and loved stocking up and preparing for our baby.

This is the box that the fetal heart doppler came in. The one we ordered the night I believe Avery passed away. I ordered it on Amazon to ease my nerves. Note the date on the box. It's the day after we found out Avery was gone and the day before she was born.

And here it is. Never got to use it. I asked my doctor if I should sell it. She said I should keep it because I'll want to ease my worries in my next pregnancy. I liked that she was honest with me. I'm sure I'll be paranoid that another little heart will stop beating.

I really think she would have loved Mommy.

I adore these little shoes. I got them at Old Navy on sale. I could not wait to see a pretty little girl wearing these sweet little shoes on her chubby little feet. I pray I still get to someday.

We bought this dress to bring Avery home from the hospital in. It's newborn size but it still looked like it would be too big for her. Ha! It really was too big for her when she was born, huh? And she wouldn't be coming home from the hospital. She left there wrapped in a blanket. Not this pretty dress.

I LOVED this dress. I wish everyone could see how small those little bloomers are. When you see them, you laugh because they're so cute and little. I think this probably would've been my favorite outfit on Avery. It probably would have brought out her blue eyes.

Here's everything we had for Avery. It fits in one corner of the room. We didn't get a chance to do much for her. She was gone only a couple weeks after we found out she was a girl. And I didn't make it to my baby shower. I know it's better that way.

Daniel, sitting on the floor in Avery's room. He'd been avoiding packing up Avery's room all week. He wanted us to do it together so I waited until he was ready. Of course, I didn't want to do it either. But I knew it had to be done. And I kind of wanted to just get it over with since it would be hard to do.

I hate that what exists of our daughter is contained in boxes. This box is filled with things we have brought to her grave and have taken back home. It also has other things that remind us of her.

Here is everything, in two boxes. It took Daniel and I several minutes before we were ready to tape the boxes closed. I sat in front of the clothes box, tape in hand. That's when I finally broke down and cried. That's when I felt like this was all so final. We'd be moving out of the house she was alive in. The house where she had a bedroom. She would never again have a bedroom in our home. These boxes would be labeled 'Baby' instead of 'Avery's room.' I should have folded these clothes because I did laundry, not because I was finally packing them away, unworn, for a hopeful, eventual next sibling.

It was so weird to see the closet empty.

So empty. So final. We never even got to paint it for her.

And we made it through it.

I don't post all of these photos to make people sad or to make people feel sorry for me. I know my fellow babyloss moms out there can agree that emptying nurseries was a huge step in their grieving process. I happened to just wait forever to finally take this step. Daniel and I finally packing it all up was such a huge deal for us, I had to include it here on our journey.

I guess there's also another part of me that worries that non-babyloss moms/people don't know the severity of losing a baby. That they don't know the depths of loss's affect on us and what we have to deal with forever after. And they wouldn't know because they haven't been there. They shouldn't be expected to. How could they? But just to raise awareness of what goes on after losing a baby makes me feel better. 

So here's the extra bedroom at our new house (before we set it up, of course). It needs a paint job. I wish it was getting painted pink and that there was a crib in it. But I just have to hope for the future, when we can turn it into a baby's room. When it's more than just a closet half-full of clothes. When I have a baby in my arms that I can rock to sleep in this room. <3

“Do not let your hearts be troubled. You believe in God; believe also in me. My Father’s house has many rooms; if that were not so, would I have told you that I am going there to prepare a place for you? And if I go and prepare a place for you, I will come back and take you to be with me that you also may be where I am. You know the way to the place where I am going.” - John 14:1-4

Missing her

I'm not quite sure what it is, but lately, these past few days, I have missed Avery more than usual. I think it became my normal, not having her here. But right now, I feel like I hate it all over again. It feels harder not to have her with me, watching her grow, taking care of her. I think it all started when Daniel and I packed up her bedroom last week to get ready for our move to the new house. I planned to do a post about that, filled with photos of her things and her room, but I have been so busy and have no had internet access. Maybe I'll do it soon anyway... even if it is past due.

I also think it's hard to be without Avery because Christmas is coming. I was pregnant with her last Christmas, and it made the season so much more magical. When I think of Christmas last year, that's all I really remember. We first heard her heartbeat on December 8th. Our first ultrasound was December 11th. All these things colored last year so brightly. And this year, she's not even here.

I almost lost it in Wal-mart last night because I saw some really cute 'Baby's 1st Christmas' things. I picked one up and thought about how Avery would be spending Christmas in Heaven, not here with us. A part of me wanted to buy it, for sentimental purposes, I guess... Because it would have been her first Christmas... had she not died. I don't know what's appropriate or weird... I don't think there is any cookie cutter way to do anything. Because losing a baby is not natural. It's not supposed to happen. They don't sell 'Baby's 1st Christmas in Heaven' stuff. Maybe they should. Then maybe we wouldn't feel so left out. The wound wouldn't sting as much.

I saw my cousin's baby boy, Eli, yesterday. He was due three weeks before Avery was, so my cousin and I were pregnant together for a while. I always imagined that her baby and mine would be close since their ages would be so close. They live across the country so I hadn't seen Eli since he was a week or so old. All I could think about was that Avery should be here with us, getting her picture taken next to Eli and us comparing their sizes. Avery should be doing the same things that Eli can do. But she doesn't. She came and went before he was even born. They won't be little playmates. We won't see them grow up together. I did love holding him though. As much as it saddens me to be reminded of what I don't have, I cherish the chance to spend time with a baby. Someone's miracle. Someone's blessing. I love that there are babies that live. It astounds me. All I know of birth and pregnancy is death and dismay. I like surrounding myself with success stories. Even when it makes me feel left out or sad.

A friend of mine had her baby girl a couple days ago. I haven't seen her yet, but when I do, she'll be the first baby girl I will see since Avery. I wonder if that will be hard. I can't imagine what that's like... to bring your baby home and be so overwhelmed and overjoyed. I wonder what it's like to look into your baby's eyes and see her looking back at you. I'm so happy for my friend. She's going to be a great mother. I wish our little girls could be friends.

On a brighter note!! We moved on Saturday, November 13th. Avery's 8 month birthday. I am in love with our new home. It feels like a fresh start. And I like that. I have been toying around with the idea of starting another blog. One that's more general. I feel like this one is strictly Avery and our life without her. So my other blog, if I do it, will be more of life in general, day to day happenings, my marriage, that sort of thing. So be on the lookout!! ;)

Flashbacks

Today was strange. A dullness loomed over me for most of the afternoon...

We finally got a "cold front" here in Florida. It is no longer 80-something degrees... Well, for the time being anyway. Last night was in the 50s and today has been chilly as well. The weather has brought the temperature of my house to around 70 degrees, which doesn't sound too bad but for some reason, in my bedroom especially, it feels cold. So there I was, heading to my bedroom to get ready for the day, and as soon as I walked in, I was struck by a familiar feeling, a deja vu of sorts. The chill that hung in my room took me back to last winter, living in this same house, pregnant. And I was wearing an old long-sleeved shirt of my husband's and a pair of sweatpants, the same exact cozy outfit I frequented last winter... while I was pregnant. It was such an odd notion, almost like I was taken back to that time, not just remembering what it was like to be there. I walked to my night table, almost expecting to see "My Belly Book" journal and a copy of "What to Expect When You're Expecting."

I cannot explain the feelings I was getting, but it was unlike any flashbacks I have had recently. Being pregnant and thinking I was actually going to bring a living child into the world feels like such a distant dream, almost like it never happened. The further I get from the time I was pregnant, the more vague those memories get. Avery's death feels so much more real than anything else about my pregnancy. So today, between my cold room and my choice of loungewear, the memories returned. I really remembered what it felt like.

I walked into the bathroom, turning sideways and looking at myself in the mirror. I thought about how much I used to do that. How I'd faithfully take a photo of myself each Tuesday to document my growing baby bump. I forced myself to stop looking in the mirror, as if I were trying to sabotage myself into getting upset. I am still not pregnant with my rainbow, afterall. I got in the shower, reluctantly, since my bathroom was so frigid. Again, I felt like I was reliving last winter. Feeling freezing despite the hot water. It's silly how something so unimportant can revive thoughts and memories of the past. But it did. I remembered my showers from when I was pregnant. I would think a lot in the shower, especially about the baby. It was so weird how real it all felt. I even touched my stomach to see if I could pretend she was there and make myself believe it. But no. Not even a reverie could be strong enough to erase what my life has really come to. And I let all of that cast a shadow over the rest of my day. Feeling sorry for myself that my baby is gone. Lately, I have just let it become my way of life. It's what I'm used to. It's just the way it is. But today I let it make me sad again for a while.

I just sat here and looked up my old Xanga blog that I began in 2004 and stopped using in early 2006 (I am brave enough to share the link!). It was such a time warp to go back and read through. My life was world's different. I pined to find love, I longed to get married and have babies. I was so innocent and naive, having no idea that my life, 4-6 years later would be this. One of my entries was on March 13, 2005. I just happened to go to a baby shower that day. I talked about how it made me feel lonely because I could not wait to have a baby and share that gift with my husband, to devote my time and my love to my child... And I had no idea that exactly five years later, to the day, I would give birth to a dead baby. Wow... Sometimes I'm still in shock that this is my reality. If you told me, the 21 year old Xanga blogger, that my first baby would die... I don't know what I would have done... or said. I never dreamed that could be me. In all my posts about waiting for 'the one,' I romanticized everything (I was right about the marriage part though... That, for me, is perfect). Even down to having babies. All their names were picked out (Avery was on the list). How many of each gender (Three boys and one girl... A boy first)... To think you can have a say in what you get... I think it might be nice to be that naive again.

Real Fall

On Tuesday, I got back from visiting Levittown, Pennsylvania with my parents and two of my brothers (Shaun & Sam). We were there for six days. It was difficult for me to be away from Daniel, but I did manage to enjoy myself. It was hard not to, what with all the beauty of an actual Fall.

I was born and raised in Florida... Before this past week, I had never seen colored leaves. Well, television doesn't count. I was amazed by the shades of red, orange, and yellow. In Florida, our trees stay green sometimes as late as December. They go from green to dead and brown. Nothing pretty in between. It's really not fair.

The weather in PA was beautiful. I went from wearing shorts, sleeveless shirts, and flip-flops to jeans, cardigans, and actual shoes (which were all purchased before we left for the trip). And since I have returned home, I have been back in shorts and sleeveless shirts! (We are getting a cold front for tomorrow, though, so the 60-something degree weather will be nice.)

Being in PA, in another place that I haven't been to in five or six years really gave me a break from myself and my life. My life as the grieving mother, not the happy wife. I don't need a break from Daniel or our life together. But I didn't realize that I did need a break from who I am and how I feel about my life since Avery died. I didn't realize how much of my thoughts are consumed by her absence or how much I notice how everyone else has what I long for. While I was away, I didn't dwell on any of that. Sure, I had some thoughts that Avery should be there with me, all bundled up with a cold pink nose. I should have taken photos of her in the orange leaves. But I didn't dwell on that there. I guess being there was a bit of a time warp for me. I grew up visiting there frequently in the summers with my family. This was the first time I'd been there since I've even known Daniel. So maybe a part of me felt like I was still a kid, with my parents and my brothers... Not the mother who lost her baby. It was nice not to feel like such a freak, such a left out person. A childless mother. Never fitting in with all of the other moms. I didn't have to deal with that. I liked it.

I loved learning how to use my new Nikon D90 camera. I loved catching scenes I have never seen before, in all their glory. I felt proud of myself and excited that I was seeing my talent play out. I missed Daniel fiercely, wishing so badly he could share it all with me too, but I loved being away from this place.

I turned 27 on October 23rd. I don't mind getting older. I think it's a priviledge to grow old, especially alongside the love of your life. But what bothers me about my age is that I am not where I wanted to be by now. My birthday last year was perfect. I was pregnant and had nothing to wish for when I blew out my candles. This year I did. I wished for another baby. A healthy one I could keep this time. (I'm still not pregnant, by the way... We're now at 6 months and counting as far as trying goes.) I always wanted to have all of my children in my 20's... or most of them anyway. Will I be able to have any that stay in the next three years? Funny how we think we can plan our lives when we're kids... "I want to be married at 23 and have all of my kids before I'm 30," I would say. I got married five days before 25 and I'm 27 with no living kids to show for. We definitely don't get to choose... Well, it seems like mostly everyone else does get to choose, but for some reason, I have never been able to.

I guess I had a lot of time to step back and look at my life while I was away. I felt so removed from everything I have been going through. I guess it was easy to feel like I was in another world, another reality. I didn't feel defined by my loss. I didn't find myself in any settings where I was reminded my arms are empty. It was nice for once. It was like I could think on the sweet things of Avery instead of the sad ones.

Regardless of how much easier it was "to be me" while I was away, I could not wait to get home to Daniel, to be with him again. It was the longest we'd been apart since 2006. I didn't think it was possible, but we bonded and grew even closer through being apart for six days. I may be without my child, but I am definitely not without the love of an amazing man I am blessed to call my husband and my best friend.