staying positive (or at least trying to)

Trying to stay positive is a full-time job when dealing with grief. It's tough to not think that you have the worst luck in the world and that bad things will just continue to happen. It's hard not to be cynical. We've just been through a devastating loss and you want me to look at the glass half full? C'mon. 

I do try though. I really do. I recognize that I have learned a lot about myself, family, friends, pregnancy, stillbirth, grief, and death. I have also noticed myself worrying less about the little things that use to send me into a tizzy. Even before my loss, this was one of my favorite quotes and I still try to live by it.

There are two awesome blogs I came across recently that I check weekly to help me not spiral into a Negative Nancy. 

1. Positively Present

This blog rocks. I found it because I was obsessed with the quotes and style she would post on Instagram (happilyeverafternow) and then I noticed she had a blog in her profile. Clicking it was the best idea ever! She posts the best advice whether you are grieving or you are just trying to stay positive in general. She has an adorable pup and an amazing outlook on life. 

2. The Positivity Blog

Henrik Edberg writes very practical articles on simplifying life and improving your happiness. Very short, sweet, and to the point posts about relaxation, self-esteem, and overall positivity!

yay new jersey!

My Nana sent me an article she read in a local South Jersey newspaper. Yes, she physically cut out the article in a NEWSPAPER and MAILED it to me. When she said she was going to I was like, "People still do that? Cute." Anyways, the first line of the article read, "There are no platitudes, no gestures and certainly no laws that will eliminate the suffering of families that have experienced a stillbirth..." Ain't that truth!

The article goes on to explain that New Jersey, my home state, is expected to pass a bill to ease the burden a bit. The Autumn Joy Stillbirth Research and Dignity Act will ensure that families experiencing a stillbirth receive the psychological and emotional support they need. Under this bill, autopsy and laboratory data related to stillbirths would be consistently collected so researchers could then better understand the risks and causes. That information could then be used to advise pregnant women on how to prevent a stillbirth.

"The death of a child is a violation of expectations. But with this bill, families can expect to be treated with sensitivity and dignity." Debbie Haine is the mother behind The Autumn Joy Stillbirth Research and Dignity Act. This is so great that she is fighting for this bill. It is crucial. Unfortunately, Debbie dealt with insensitive treatment in the hospital. She was upset by the lack of compassionate and professional stillbirth standards of care for hospital personnel working with grief stricken families.

I was fortunate enough to deliver in a state where these policies and procedures are already put in place. Evelyn was born in Philadelphia at Pennsylvania Hospital. I could not speak more highly of the people who surrounded me. At first I thought it was a little weird to be in Labor & Delivery but when I think back on my time in the hospital, they treated Evelyn as if she was just like the other babies on that floor.

They insisted on me delivering her, even though I asked for a C-section and to just get it all over with immediately. They didn't take her away right after I had her. They cleaned her off, dressed her up, and kept her in my room until I was ready to see her. At first, I wasn't sure I even wanted to look at her. I didn't know if I could handle it. I am so glad I did though. She looked like a normal sleeping baby.

The nurses made sure I was fed, medicated, and had unlimited visiting hours. They rubbed my back when I cried and held my hand during delivery. I later found out that these nurses volunteer to handle these situations. The hospital recognizes that not every nurse is able to handle the death of a baby. They also recognize there needs be a certain level of sensitivity and respect for the parents as they most likely never saw this coming. Instead of a chaotic, loud delivery room with a baby screaming its lungs out - there is silence and tears of sorrow afterwards. You have to be incredibly strong to stand there and witness that voluntarily.

I also appreciate the fact that further research will be done after a stillbirth. 26,000 babies are stillborn a year and most of the time causes are never known. ANY information I could get my hands on would give me the tiniest bit of relief for my next pregnancy. I am scared to death to go through it again without receiving any answers on Evie's death. I would take even an educated guess from a doctor at this point. How can my perfectly healthy baby girl just...die? No signs of struggle, no signs of infection, no genetic issues as far as they can see. The Autumn Joy Stillbirth Research and Dignity Act will hopefully help prevent stillbirth by requiring research.

Yay Debbie Haine for breaking the silence in NJ!!

.am I a mom?

Handling people who don't know Evelyn's story is difficult. A fellow loss mom, Sarah Muthler, put it best, "Telling strangers about my stillborn daughter often leaves me feeling like I’ve punched them. They cry. They try to shuffle away from me. I end up apologizing." I feel the same way about telling my story.

I work a second job at Anthropologie a few nights a week. It's a great little job - a few extra bucks and an incredible discount. I stopped working there a few weeks before Evelyn was born because I couldn't bend over and be on my feet that long. I recently decided to go back and I end up working with a lot of new faces. None of them know about Evelyn. I am not sure they ever will.

When we are closing the store down there is typical girl chatter - guys, traveling, weight loss, other jobs, etc. Sometimes I just want to be able to chime in with a "oh my gosh I know, I just had a baby and I'm trying to lose 15lbs" or  a simple "when I was pregnant..." story. But I know there will be follow-up questions. "How many kids do you have? how old is she? can I see a picture?" It's not easy handling people's reactions to a dying baby.

It is also difficult to share stories with people who aren't my best friends or family, but who do know about Evelyn. I can't talk about my pregnancy without also talking about death so I don't talk about it at all. There are several newly pregnant women in my office along with a few women who are about to pop any day now! When someone is sharing their story about their experiences - I want to chime in. I know how it feels to be 8 months pregnant. I also know how it feels to give birth to a 6lb baby. I wish we could commiserate together on how annoying heartburn is or how weird it is to feel your baby moving around inside of you. I wish I could tell them how I loved being pregnant and how lucky they are. It just doesn't seem appropriate coming from me though.

I can't contribute the same way other moms can without feeling like I would make others uncomfortable. Because of this, I don't always feel like I am a mom. 

I know in my heart I am a mom. It's hard to say it out loud though. And I typically don't. I fear that if I do refer to myself as one, strangers might ask more about it. I also fear that people who do know my story will look at me like I have two heads because they know my baby died inside of me. 

Webster Dictionary defines a parent as the following:

a : one that begets or brings forth offspring

b : a person who brings up and cares for another

I did beget (procreate) but wasn't able to bring her forth.

I certainly cared for Evelyn, more than anything else in the world, but I didn't get a chance to "bring her up".

So by definition, I am...sort of a mom. 
Do other people define me as that as well? 

I had every intention of bringing her up and bringing her forth. I wanted to give her every ounce of my love and I was going to put every last penny towards making sure she was going to be happy and healthy. 
Doesn't that count?

I sure hope so. I may not be your typical parent but I know I am Evelyn's mom.

....

 I'm frustrated that people forget, I'm frustrated it still feels like yesterday, I'm frustrated that I'm frustrated.

some days are better than others.

I wanted to blog last night but this is how I felt.

it happens. 

today is a new day.