12.23.2021
I have PTSD. I knew this when I got a simple cold from my kids a couple weeks ago and was hit with emotions of grief like in the initial days of losing Alba. I chalk that up to my emotional and physical trauma syncing up and now working in unison. I feel one then the other is not far behind bringing on hard emotions. Today, Kyle and I woke up excited for the day. We were told the night prior in the nicu that our little man just needed to pass his car seat test and then would be discharged home. We spent the majority of the car ride up to flint talking about our hopes and dreams for this little boy. When we arrived to the hospital with smiles on our faces, we were immediately faced with a hard truth. Baby boy didn’t pass his car seat test. His heart rate had tanked when sitting in his car seat for the required hour long test before being allowed to leave the nicu. We were extremely bummed that the expectations of the day quickly changed from welcoming our little man home to now feeling stuck in the nicu just waiting for the 24 hour space between tests to pass by. As we snuggled baby boy and processed, we were hit with another hard truth. New blood work done when we had first arrived now reported that his hemoglobin was too low and he needed a transfusion. The word transfusion sounds scary and intimidating. Personally I picture someone losing so much blood that they need transfusions of blood to stop from dying on the table. Dramatic I know. But that’s not the case. Our guy’s little body just needs the extra help to get back to better levels. We were assured that he could very well still go home the next day…But that still wasn’t it. The neurologist came to see us after his MRI scan. They had seen a bright spot on his ultrasounds 2x in a row so they went ahead with a MRI to check it out. Anything with nuero and MRI’s have me uneasy after Alba. The doctor said that his MRI showed evidence of a stroke shortly after he was born, because somehow they knew it wasnt within the past 2 weeks. ugh….There was brain damage to his left temporal lobe and blood or nuero pathways (sorry I was blanking out here as well as not sure on lingo) were no longer going to that spotted area. Nuero surgery was alerted to see if they would want to do anything but he assured us that he really doubted it. All there was to do is basically wait and see. A good home environment can do wonders for babies and they are so resilient. If this were an adult we were talking about, it would tragic and irreparable. However with babies, they are so resilient and able to find new pathways to work in the brain. While this neurologist had zero people skills and was pretty abrasive to Kyle’s repeated questions as he struggled to process, I held back the huge urge to turn around and throw up. My knees and legs were getting weak and I wanted so badly to allow my body to bend in half and just sob. I think I only didn’t out of stubbornness and spite towards how inpatient the doctor was being. Of course he doesn’t know us. He doesn’t know our history or how only 4 months ago we heard horrible neurology news after a MRI that lead us to saying goodbye to our newborn daughter. I’d like to hope he would have been more gracious with us but the situation we faced instead had me holding every emotion back. We left shortly after to relieve babysitters and process. I felt like I was dreaming, that what I was experiencing wasn’t really happening. Very similar response to how I felt in September and that’s how I knew it was my PTSD making me delusional again. As I spoke harshly with God, about how he continues to think that my life is just some sick and twisted game to fuck with and watch me die slowly, the Holy Spirit quietly poured truth into my mind and heart. I was so quick to jump to crazy conclusions that I was going to reface another loss, that I was now never going to bring my baby boy home, that losing Alba is now going to happen again with another baby. But the Holy Spirit reeled me in. What is true? He asked me in the back of my mind. What’s true is that Zay is still healthy, beautiful, eating amazing. Zay is still planning to come home with us and possibly even tomorrow. I have taken in 2 kiddos who have been in just as bad of shape and by His stripes, Jesus healed them. God has been faithful every step of the way, don’t run from Him now. Zay is still coming home. You are still getting another baby. ←all these thoughts poured into me as I began to think more clearly and come back to a healthier reality. I still struggled the rest of the day with fighting the lies that I chose to so quickly believe earlier. I cried over everything. I cried because I wanted Zay to be perfect and healthy, for him but for me too. I deserve a healthy baby. I cried over whether I would bring Zay home soon or not when I have been mentally preparing for so long now. I cried over the fact that I do have PTSD and I’m not sure how to overcome that. I sat in despair and hope while asking God many many things about my life. We will see what tomorrow brings I guess.
12.24.2021
Zay passed his car seat test! We were welcomed into the NICU with the expectation to bring him home today. I was shocked. The only thing they were waiting for was for the nuero surgeons to clear him. Within 2 hours, we were packed up and escaping the NICU with a 4lb. 13oz. Baby boy. Kyle couldn’t even handle himself and booked it out the NICU and raced to get the car for us. I felt like I was stealing a baby too soon from the hospital but wasn’t going to say anything. I just wanted him home.
Our girls can barely handle the big emotions of welcoming their new baby brother. It is the cutest thing in the entire world as they try so hard to hold back their toddler energy and sweetly pet their brother. I spent the rest of the day adjusting to Zay being home and dealing with the surrealness that finally bringing him home felt. I have a baby. A new baby. This is nuts. This is sad. This is happy. This is weird. This is cheating.
I sat in the corner of my living room holding my new son, watching my other 3 daughters lay on the couch with a movie and relax before bed. My life is so good. But I’m sad, guilty and torn about how happy I am. I have cheated grief. Have I? I still feel my biggest loss of losing my daughter. I carry that loss now with the biggest gain I could have ever imagined in bringing home my son only 4 months later.
My life is weird and I don’t blame anyone who sits here and is like WTF??? Because I am sitting here with that same thought. What is my life? Thank you God for this bizarre supernatural life that you have placed me in.
My life as a mom of 4 begins today. What should have been 5, what I thought was going to be 3 from now, has now become 4….again.
12.26.2021
At church, the Holy Spirit whispered to me “your story is for the stage”. I find offense in that but glory for God all at the same time. I sit in refusal to put myself out there anymore by sharing this tragedy because I manipulate it in my mind that God allowed this to happen solely so that I could help other women in loss. I shouldn’t have had to lose my daughter for that. But I also sit here in God’s presence and I feel his glory resting on my life right now and I know what he has called me to do from here on out. As a reminder to Job in the bible, I may never know the reasons for why things happen in my life, but I will still serve my God and allow Him to use every part of me to do it.
12.31.2021
If you were to tell me on 1.1.21 that I would face the saddest and happiest year of my entire life, I’m not sure what I would have expected in my little pre-traumatized, pre-loss, pre-gain self. I found out I was pregnant in January of this year. I was supposed to have a baby girl and now I’m leaving 2021 without my baby that I grew this entire year but instead with a whole new baby that I didn’t even know about until November. It’s astonishingly sad and joyful. I’m not sure what to think.
I’m walking into 2022 as a close friend with both joy and grief. What you love about joy but also overwhelmed with, I carry that. What you fear in grief yet crave to just sit in at times, I carry those too. If grief and joy had a baby, it would be me in my ridiculous mental state of sad tears but a smiling face. I wish I could say, “I plan to walk into 2022 as…” because there is no control over what I’m going through. There is no planning to get past this grief and all I can do is ride the wave of it until the oceans of grief decide to calm down in this long night of sorrow I’m in. Joy doesn’t even combat my grief at this point but has instead just allowed me to live with it’s happy emotions alongside the devastating ones. If joy and grief were my parents, I would describe it as living in a toxic home with 2 narcissists who both crave to fully control me over the other. Grief convinces me that my joy isn’t real and only fleeting. Joy tries to persuade me that grief is gone for good when really it’s hiding until the sun sets. It’s malicious and confusing to live in my head right now and I’m sure I sound absolutely insane but like I’ve continued to say, grief is weird.
I can say that I hope to see growth in 2022. I hope to grow stronger in my grief and move forward with my life (it still pains me to think of moving forward without Alba, as if I owe her to sit with her in September 2021 for the rest of my life).I hope to grow my voice because from my voice, my testimony will be shared. I hope to help other grieving women in 2022. I hope to be a better mama in 2022. I hope for many many things but really I hope God continues with his heart surgery in me and brings me out brand new by the end of 2022.