When the rainbow fades away

We were well on our way to our rainbow. We had seen its beautiful light. We had begun to prepare for our journey with our rainbow. We had planned, purchased, and prayed for a safe arrival at this most sacred destination.
Our sweet baby was conceived on Kayla's 7th birthday, following fertility treatments and 10 months of desperate longing for a chance to bring a baby home. We had beta levels drawn and things looked great. I wrote down everything about these appointments, numbers, feelings, times, everything, just in case we didn't get more than that. We took a picture of my 4 week belly and I was planning on asking Ryan to take a picture Sunday of my 10 week belly. I joined the rainbow group of mothers who are carrying or have had their rainbows for hope and support. We got the new house and I had picked out the nursery paint. My mother-in-law had the patterns out to begin the nursery bedding. We were on our journey and couldn't have been happier!
I went for an ultrasound early yesterday. This was an appointment to plan the screenings, set up high risk appointments, and just take a peek at our rainbow. I went alone knowing everything was fine. And after all the plans were set, she began the ultrasound. I saw our sweet baby but I said instantly "I don't see a heartbeat". I fell apart. She kept saying to wait a minute, but I knew. A mother always knows. So there I laid, alone and shattered.
Today we arrived early to have a "dilation and evacuation". What a horrible phrase! Our pastor sat with us as they explained that this was likely a repeat of McKenna's condition, likely we have a problem creating healthy children , likely that this is the end of a dream for us. They did the procedure and again I left a hospital with empty arms and a very shattered heart...
A week from today we will celebrate McKenna's first birthday in Heaven. Ryan and I have now lost two children in less than a year, but we've lost more, we've lost the hope and we've lost the dreams. Our children are hurting and we can't fix it. Life seems so very unfair sometimes. Our rainbow has faded away into a very cloudy rainy sky.

In the rain there are rays of sunshine

I've been told that my nephew said that when God takes one life another is created. This week we lost Ryan's grandmother. She loved little McKenna so much! In her very weak state she would still have Grandpa drive her to the cemetery to leave things at McKenna's stone. She had begged in her prayers for God to spare Kenna and to take her. She talked about how she has waited 10 months to hold her and that's the first thing she wanted to do when she got Home. I have no doubt that Jesus met her with McKenna in arms to get some long awaited loving from her great grandma. Today as we celebrate Kayla's birthday while mourning for a lost grandparent we are also hopeful. We have completed our first assisted cycle and the doctor is very very hopeful about its outcome. We're hoping those two angels (Grandma and Kenna) put their heads together and are sending us some blessings. We look forward to finding out :)

Dreams

I had so many dreams for this new baby girl we were bringing into the world. It was going to be the perfect birth, with the perfect partner by my side, a perfect baby shower with people I actually enjoyed spending time with, a perfect life following our coming home, she would dance with her sister, she would have beautiful things, and she would complete our broken, glued back together, make-shift collection of people we call family. (I say we are a collection because I realized not long ago that in addition to my collection of books, I collect people. They become a part of this family regardless of blood or not to the point that removing them is to remove a part of yourself.) Clearly, in April it was painfully obvious that those dreams would not becoming true and I needed to create some new ones. I am not a person who stays down for long. I am resilient and as cliche as it is, I am survivor. I take life's blows and come back with a not -so-lady-like response of a finger in the air, daring another attempt to derail me. I had decided long ago that I had spent a good deal of time in college and it only made sense to continue all the way. So, I took that dream and enrolled in my PhD program with the goal of being a professor of special education in the end. (Besides the fact that when Im not in school I have to pay back my loans so I may just take classes until I die. Learn Chinese? Why not. Law school? sure! You think Im kidding...)
I am extremely proud to say that in spite of the year from deep dark places, I am carrying a 4.0 and am advancing quickly and ahead of schedule. I have more plans than this and with each day that passes I see this brighter and brighter future. I do not forget McKenna, instead I live to the fullest to show her that her mama is proud and strong and can take on this world. So as we continue on our journey and our search for a rainbow I know that come what may, I can do this and that, is a very good feeling!

Searching for a Rainbow

A few months ago I would search for rainbows. Surely if I saw a rainbow it meant that my own rainbow was on it's way. Right? Wrong! As weeks turned into months I looked harder. The high beams on the speed limit sign. Does that count? The rain falling in the oil puddle in the parking lot. Does that count? The four year old handing me a prism in awe of the rainbow on the wall. Surely that counts? After six months of looking for rainbows in everything, I quit watching. I stopped searching and accepted that it would happen when it was meant to. No sign was going to shine in my path to tell me that my wait was over. We continue to wait for our rainbow. No longer searching the skies, no longer smiling when a rainbow crosses our path. Just waiting. And praying. And crying. Lots and lots of tears and prayers. So here's my hope: somewhere the prayer will mix with the tears and create a beautiful rainbow intended just for us!

Putting it behind us

As this year comes to a close I see people say they are putting the bad of the year behind them. I'd love to just pack up the bad, send it to the garage with the Christmas decorations, and leave it there. The bad of this year is not something I can walk away from. It's not something I can wrap in a package, label "2012", and store away as if it never existed. However, I can live with the bad, knowing I have learned some real tough but rewarding lessons, and I can use that to become a better person: A better wife, a better friend, a better mother. So, as I leave 2012, knowing I am leaving the only time my daughter existed on this Earth, I leave with strong friendships, stronger love, and a heart so full for those in it that is seeps out! I'm not a mushy person, a touchy person, or a sappy person, but as we begin 2013 I want each of you to know, I do love you and I am infinitely blessed by what 2012 has brought me in spite of what 2012 took from me. Thank you! Here's to 213 being filled with hope and rainbows!

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

As your seven month angelversary came and went and no one said a word to me I realized that the rest of the world is starting to forget. Not forget you, just forget the days that are difficult. The 25th of every month doesn't creep in on others and put that stinging behind their eyes that forces them to fight to breath so that tears don't spill down their cheeks. No, my girl, that only happens to your mama. That's ok though. I know you wouldn't want others to feel that way. I know you don't want me to feel that way, but I'm your mama.
Your sister and brothers and I hung the stockings and I found yours. The stocking I had picked out last year, because even at 8 weeks, I knew you were a girl. I tucked it away in hopes you'd have a little sister one day to use it. When I was hiding your sister and brothers' Christmas gifts I found the dog I had bought you in March to give to you this Christmas. Daddy bought an angel to put in the yard for you and we got a tiny purple tree, just for you. we made our annual photo book and it kills me that tour whole life fits on a two page spread. On Thanksgiving Day I found the bib that said "My 1st Thanksgiving" that each of my babies wore and you should have to. I accept these things with quiet frustration. The world is not a fair place, baby. I was supposed to have a happy near four month old right now. I miss you so much these days!

Recovery

Ryan and I have found that we have to rely on each other.  We must learn on each other, always, and above all else. Sometimes, it can be ugly and painful.  Other times, its exactly what we thought things would be like when we got married.  We never imagined our lives would go down this path and we most certainly didn't ask for it or plan for it.  However, we made a vow to love each other no matter what came our way.  So, that's what we do.  We are making it.  Minute by minute, hour by hour, day by day, and month by month.  I'd like to say that the worst is behind us.  I'd like to say it's all downhill from here.  I know that in April, a new wave of grief will come, as we celebrate her first birthday in Heaven, taking balloons to the cemetery, instead of watching her dive into a cake.  As we approach Christmas, I look at the gift we had already purchased for her, back in March.  As we wait and wait for news on a rainbow baby, each failed month a sting to our fragile hearts.  We will make it!  We will speak it into existence.  We will keep our family together, happy, and as whole as we can, sharing our love between children on Earth and a daughter in Heaven. We will bring a rainbow into our world.  We will lean on each other and uphold our sacred vows.  We will! <3