27 Weeks...

I often sit and wonder how things would be if Harbor was still alive.

I know. I know.

Why torture myself? But I do frequently.

Today. Today would have marked his 27th week of being alive! But unfortunately it's been 12 weeks since he's been gone. I hate that it's been nearly as long since he died, as he was alive.

Today is the 1st time I have looked at my What to Expect When You're Expecting book since Harbor died. I actually threw the stupid book away and never wanted to see that reminder again. But today, I was curious as to what he might have been like had he had more time with me. Crazy? Quite possibly. But I can't stop thinking about him. This loss's impact has been far more difficult then when I lost our 1st baby @ 12 weeks. Because with our 1st loss, the baby had been absorbed. So the reality of my loss actually being a real life baby, wasn't as prominent as when Harbor died. Don't get me wrong. I mourned the 1st loss badly. I stayed in bed and sobbed for days. My in-laws came over 1 day and helped where they could with my oldest son 'T', who was only 15 months old at the time. The grieving process was completely different.

But today...he would have been 27 weeks old! We would be feeling and seeing him move in my tummy. We would be getting ready to welcome home my youngest sister from her 18 month long mission for our church! This was one of my highlighted milestones during Harbor's pregnancy. I was looking forward to this day since the beginning.

This week (according to What to Expect When You're Expecting book) this week Harbor would have graduated into a new growth chart. No longer being measured from crown to rump, but now being measured from head to toe. And he would have been close to 15 inches long. He would have been about 2 pounds.

That's all a far cry from the measurements that he actually was when he was born. If you don't remember, he was 5 1/2 inches long and a measly, 2.12 ounces. Not even a pound. He was so tiny. But completely perfect!

This week: his taste buds would have increased. Which means he would be able to taste the difference in the amniotic fluid when I would have eaten and he would have reacted to spicy foods. Or get hiccups. Oh how I wish I could have felt those pesky hiccups. I remember laughing at times with my older children when they would get hiccups. My tummy would rhythmically bounce and jump!

Why do I do this to myself? Ugh...why to I sit and ponder on the what if's?

This week would have been the closing of my 6th month being pregnant and the start of my 7th month. I can't help but think about everything that I would be doing to get ready to meet Harbor in person. Had we just made it a few more weeks...I can't help but wonder if he might have had a chance to survive. But then reality sets in again. This isn't a possible outcome. Stop dwelling on the: should haves, could haves, would haves. But it's extremely hard not too.

So now I've have looked in the index of this well known book to search for the information they have shared about Late Miscarriages. To my surprise they only have a very small 4-5 paragraphs on this subject. No wonder I felt unprepared for such a horrific possibility. (One of the questions it answers is) HOW COMMON IS IT? Late miscarriages occur in about 1 in 1,000 pregnancies.

What? 1 in a 1,000! Wow! No wonder I naively went along in my pregnancies all these times and never once even thought it could possibly happen to me. This book makes it seem like it almost never happens. And definitely NOT to people like me. People whom: don't smoke, don't drink, don't do drugs, eats healthy, makes good choices...I mean, it couldn't possibly happen to that kind of person. WRONG. So very misleading. I feel sucker punched in the gut. Well, if a well known pregnancy book barely says anything about Late Miscarriages, then it most certainly couldn't happen to THAT many people.

But reality sets in again...information had been misinterpreted and it most certainly can happen to even the best of the best. The most careful of careful people. It happens. A lot more then the What to Expect When You're Expecting book leads on. It's not the Holy Grail of Pregnancy books. I'm sorry to have to be the one to tell you that.

All I have ever wanted to be was a Mother. I have wanted LOTS of kids since I was 7 or 8 years old. Thankfully I have living children to love, hold, kiss and remind me how grateful I am. But my heart aches for the children I won't get to do those things with also. Especially with the thought of Mother's Day quickly approaching. I don't want to have anything to do with Mother's Day. Not this year at least.

But I will save that for another day.

Because today. Today...I am mourning 27 weeks and all the good things that were attached to Harbor's growth. Today I am mourning that I won't ever get these weeks back. All the possibilities, the hopes & the dreams that were attached to this week and the weeks to come.

A Dose of Reality

Apparently I'm jealous, sad & angry.

My sister-in-law just had her baby yesterday & upon seeing pictures of her new baby boy, I got really upset.

Don't get me wrong. Please.

I am thrilled that her son is born. Alive. I am excited to meet him someday. I even made him a blanket. It's primary colored squares. It's really cute.

But.

I am ever so jealous, sad & angry. (I find myself feeling the need to explain myself...A lot more then usual nowadays. So here is where I explain myself. Bare with me.)

Looking at photos of family members...oooooing & aaaaaawwwwwwing over my new nephew makes my heart ache. Knowing that NO ONE showed that much love & joy over Harbor when he we born. No one proudly showed off photography's of him to their friends. No one even came to the hospital to be with us. So yeah. Jealous much? I am.
Angry? Yep. Sure seems like it.
Sad? My tearful demeanor the past 24 hours could indicate rightfully so.

My thoughts keep bouncing back to a comment my mother-in-law made Christmas Day. (We announced we were expecting Harbor on Christmas Eve.) It was when she looked around at all 8 grand kids that were opening gifts. She then realized that 2 more grand babies were going to be present the following Christmas.

 "Where are we going to put everyone next Christmas? We will have 2 more grand kids. We need a bigger house! Or we need to convince someone else to hold Christmas at their house."

This thought hurts my aching heart so badly. The reality that there isn't another DO-OVER. Things aren't going to change. This coming Christmas there will ONLY be the 1 happy baby. And it's NOT OURS.

No fun, happy, smiling Christmas Cards from us should be expected this year. At Christmas, Our 5 month old won't be present. On Thanksgiving Day he would have been 4 months old and we will be missing him in his little onesie I had already carefully bought to fit him. It has the cutest little turkey on it & says "My 1st Thanksgiving" on it. On Halloween his Superman footy jumper will remain empty as well. And in July, instead of busily getting ready to meet our little boy. We will probably be still mourning the...could of...should of...would of's. And our reality of his life cut way to short.

So please forgive me while I am ever so jealous, sad & angry right now. My reality of never getting to hold him again is ever so present as I see my nephew. I'm not sure how I'm going to feel holding him. As happy as I am, it hurts too. Not many people realize how hard it is to move forward, when to me...so much was ripped away. He wasn't just a fetus. He wasn't just a clump of cells. He was a baby! My baby! I had planned & envisioned my life with him in it since the moment I knew he was alive. He was and still is...Oh. So. Very. Real.

My life has been derailed. My plans have had to be thrown out like yesterday's garbage. All these little outfits will remain unworn. Tucked away with the rest of his belongings.

But to some of you...I'm just suppose to move on. "Get over it." "Be grateful I have 4 living children."

My response:
"Let me cut off your thumbs & you'll get over it. I mean, you have 4 others. Be grateful for them."

Or

"You'll have more children." "Good thing it happened early on. Something might have been wrong with him." "God needed him more." "It was Gods will."

My response:

"It does matter if I have more children. Having another child isn't going to replace Harbor." "Something WAS wrong with him. But just like (M, my 7yr old) we would have gratefully welcomed, loved, cherished & taken care of him." "I beg to differ, if you think any one including God, needed Harbor more, hands down. I'd win." "I don't believe in a God whom would knowingly & willingly take children from their mothers. I believe in letting my God tell me HIS WILL. Not you."

So please have a heart & bare with me while I still mourn the way I need to mourn. While I cry over little things & holidays. Bare with me while I grieve over NOT ever getting to hold him again or while I grieve over the endless reminders that the things in my life I had planned to do so with him in it, aren't going to ever happen.

Feel free to put your arm around me & just give me a hug. Call, text or write to me...just to say "hi! I was thinking about you!" "Is there a time I can swing by?" "Can I help with your kids?" "Do you need a break?" "Just was thinking about you today & wanted to drop dinner off." Anything. Just letting me know that I am thought of or offering to help, but really offering. Would be greatly appreciated during this time.

Unfortunately, I don't have a time stamp for how long am I going to grieve for. No, I am not just going to get over my son dying. No, I'm not holding it together as well as I would like to be. Yes, I have accepted that I need a therapist & have begun seeing one. I also have been going to support group meetings of parents that have lost babies. While they are helpful, I still need people I know & trust to be there for me!

One step at a time.

I met with a pregnancy therapist through Kaiser today. It was nice. I wasn't sure what to expect going in for this visit. But was pleasantly surprised with myself as I poured out my heart, feelings & uncertainties to a complete stranger. I guess, sometimes it's easier to do so. Then talking to friends or family members.

I told her about my history with suicidal tendencies & cutting. I told her that I have learned to watch myself & recognize warning signs. I have learned in the past that bottling up my emotions is destructive and that I needed to choose a healthier way to cope this time around. I told her I decided to start a blog (this blog) to work through my emotions & thoughts. That I didn't want to go to that Dark place where I was so many years ago.

14 years ago, cutting was my form of therapy. I felt so empty & removed from my thoughts & emotions. Cutting was my way of feeling alive & reconnected with reality. It was a way for me to feel my inward emotions, in an outward experience. As stupid as that may sound (even to me) that was me, trying it cope. Not good. Not good at all.

This blog allows me the freedom to openly express how I feel, in a healthy way & not have to worry about my feelings being trampled on, by friends & family members that might say hurtful things. Intentional or unintentionally.

I did go on to talking about how Harbor's death has effected my children. How I feel so helpless & confused as how to help myself, let alone my grieving children. She suggested quite a few helpful suggestions:

*Since we home school, have my children journal. Allow them to write or draw anything they want to regarding how they are feeling about the loss of Harbor. They can write to him. Telling him how much they miss him. Or how angry they are that he isn't here. Or how Sad they are feeling, that they didn't get to do something with him or say to him. Or how happy they are that they got to do something. I told my kids that I don't have to ever see any of it. They are free to vent however they choose. If they are feeling extra angry we could even burn, rip or shred the negative journaling papers...TOGETHER. Safely.

*Hold a Memorial type Service. It doesn't have to include any body else but the 6 of us (myself, my husband & the 4 kids). We can pick a day to spend together, get some balloons & write letters to Harbor. And release them to him!

*During the holidays, especially at Christmas time, we can get him a stocking. But fill it with notes to him or notes of what Good things we can do to honor him during the coming year!

*Make something to honor Harbor. This can be a painting or a drawing. Photographs. A scrapbook. Jewelry. A poem. (Something tangible to have to just remember him!)

*Add hints or reminders to family photos to represent Harbor. She told me of a family she is helping that lost a baby too. They use a star in every family picture they take with their other living children. Just something to represent he is apart of our family. No one needs to know what we use. Just honor him in a way that helps us cope. (I personally want to use a blue balloon to honor him.)

After she suggested making jewelry, with his name on it or something like it. She then noticed the necklace I was wearing. I said my friend made it for me. She didn't know what else to do for me while I'm grieving. So she made me this with his name & birth date on it and the therapist was pleasantly excited that I already had a necklace! She then asked if she could take a look at it & she loved that my friend included his birth stone & an angel wing charm on it!

I told her that I had another friend text me one day. Saying she had made something for me. To my surprise it was a painting of a light house & how she had added all of the little details about his birthday, weight & size to the picture. And my favorite part of it being the definition of a "Safe Harbor" written in the waves!

After I told her what some of you have done for me in the last 6 weeks. The therapist was surprised & commented on "How thoughtful & wonderful" my friends are! She informed me that a lot of the women she works with come to her crying all the time because of the lack of compassion & understanding from their friends & family. But that I am lucky to have such wonderful people in my life!

I fully agree!

And I am sorry I haven't Thank'ed each and everyone one of you personally. But I am grateful. More then you might ever realize. I'm grateful for each & every heartfelt note, letter, meal, flower, text, FB message, phone call, prayer, thought, love & light....EVERYTHING! Thank you!

One of these days I will be able to move forward. With your help, love & support! And Right now, I'm taking it...one step at a time. One day at a time. One moment at a time.

Aunt Flo

{WARNING: This post is all about PERIODS & not the ones at the end of your sentences.}


Aunt Flo has decided to show up. Unannounced & Unwanted.

She doesn't care that I personally can't stand her presence, ever. She could care less about my feelings or emotional state. She tags along everyday, all day. No matter where I go or what I'm doing. She likes to remind me, yet again, as if I didn't already know, that I am no longer pregnant. What an insensitive jerk!

Yesterday marked 6 weeks since I gave birth to Harbor. It has been a roller coaster of a time. I think I was secretly praying I wouldn't have a period. EVER. That somehow I could forget that bodies ever have them.

I have been a tad more irritated the past few days. I couldn't place my finger on why. But a trip to the restroom & I immediately knew why.

Well, I could look at it in a more positive light...I have officially had a period (which is how long we were told to wait, before even considering on trying to conceive again.)   Because we will now have an actual date to go off, for figuring out due dates, if I ever get pregnant again.

I can't even wrap my mind around any of that either right now.

Mostly out of worry & fear, of possibly loosing another baby during pregnancy. It's unfortunately our reality we will have to journey through when the time comes. And we will most likely not breath, cope or sleep well, the entire 9 months either.

But today. Is not that day.

Aunt Flo, I find your crappy timing, impeccable. Please back your bags & keep on trekking elsewhere. You are not welcome here. With all I have going on I my life right now, I definitely don't need you in it.

Sincerely, an over annoyed, grieving woman.

A Ticking Time Bomb...

I feel like I'm a ticking time bomb.

My emotions are all over the place. Happy one second, bawling the next, angry in a matter of an unwanted look, stare or comment.

It is so difficult to be happy around pregnant ladies. I have to avoid eye contact, conversations or looks of pitty. I am truly happy for them, but I have lost my innocence & know that tragic endings happen. (No amount of weeks or months can protect you, you are never truly in a "safe-zone.")

So while I am happy for them, I am also praying and almost holding my breath that they don't have a miscarriage-late term miscarriage-stillbirth-infant loss. This broken silent road, echoes the heart wrenching wails of mothers & fathers grieving so heavily, for their lost child(ren) that even demons would be terrified to travel this road.

As I sat this afternoon with a pregnant family member, it was hard. As I listen to complaints of: being Huge, can't move, I want this baby out, dr says he's gunna be big, clothes we got at the baby shower aren't going to fit him at the right season of the year-do you want them?....I had to try and kindly ignore everything going on around me. Not a good way to cope, but how does one react to a situation like that?

My thoughts turned to a little bit of bitterness & jealously.

"I would love nothing more then my son to be kicking the crap out of my bladder."

"This coming Christmas was suppose to have 2 new little baby boys, but now we will only have 1."

"I want my belly to be big and round like hers."

"I miss Harbor."

It just seemed to continue on. I just wanted out of the house & that situation. I kept trying to gesture to my husband that I was ready to go. But I don't think he got the hint, until I was about to burst out, "Quit complaining about your petty, stupid issues. Get over it. Things could be so much worse."

When he was ready I was up & out the door as fast as I could. No good-byes from me. I hurried as fast as I could for the car with children being rounded up as I went.

My mood has been really down since this afternoons visit. On my drive home I started thinking about how I would feel or possibly act when my family member gives birth this week to her son.

I might possibly hold him & just bawl with joy & sorrow and not want to give him back. I might be just fine. I might just be a ticking time bomb of emotions. I hope my family members will be ready & Okay with however the whole ordeal goes down.

Because if NOT....Bbbbbboooooooooommmmmm!

I. Might. Just. Detonate.

Inducted into a Secret Club

I have been debating on getting a memorial tattoo.

I know. I know. I know.
I know what your thinking.
Has SHE gone off the deep end?

It has been weighing heavy on my mind lately. I know in our church it's something that seems to be frowned up. We are advised NOT to get them. But I keep feeling like its something I need to do.

I can explain my "needs/wants" for doing so.

I don't have any real tangible thing to cling too. I don't have very many mementos. I can't just show off Harbor's "baby" photos to my friends & family members. Not many people care to see them. I can't just joyously post pictures of him on FB or Instagram. I mean, I would be de-friended in a heart beat. His pictures would probably be banned on FB because they might "offend" someone. I can't just openly talk about him. I mean, which friends do I talk to about him? My pregnant friends or my friends whom just had a healthy baby?

Let's just face it, people don't want to see or hear bad news. They only want to see you when you're at your best. No one wants to see my failures, my faults, my trials, my sorrow. No one wants to see or hear from ME, while I'm un-happy. I know. I have been personally told so.

I have been surprisingly overwhelmed (and not in a good way) with how many people have felt the need to share their pregnancy loss' with me. I am honored they feel comfortable & safe in talking & telling me their stories. Really I am. But it's hard to hear it all the same. So much heart ache. So much sadness. I told my husband tonight, it sort of feels as though I have been inducted into a secret club. A dead baby society or something. (Like Stepford Wives, a cult or something.)

I never asked to be invited in or to join.

I just was.

So back to my needs/wants for a tattoo.

I want Harbor in my arms forever. Since I won't have that in this life. I am trying the best I can to move forward, positively. I want a tattoo of Harbor on my forearm.

Why on the forearm? I have been asked multiple times. Why not on my foot, my shoulder, my back, somewhere it can be hidden?

Well, I will tell you...

Quite frankly, it's because I have to hide everything about Harbor already. Everything that is or was his, is in a tiny box. I don't get to tell people he existed. I don't get to proudly show off my sweet, perfectly formed little boys' baby pictures.

In another month or so (if not, already) people will forget him. People will move on.

And. That. Is. Life.

I want him safely nestled on (in) my arms the rest of my life. I want to find comfort in knowing he will always be with me & I won't ever be able to forget him! I will be able to share with those that ask about my tattoo, that I had another SON!

He lived! But not as long as we had hoped for. His name is Harbor & he was loved! Oh, so very, very LOVED!

Stop and take it all in.

I had to stop myself the other night, while at Target. I was out shopping with 3 of my kids, when right by the milk refrigerator, a pregnant lady (she had to be about 6-7 months pregnant) stops. She turns to her husband & kind of half joking/annoyed says "what are you doing?" He was obviously taking in her beauty! He was snapping a picture of her adorable pregnant belly! They were purchasing a car seat/stroller combo. It was the only thing in their cart. The husband was grinning ear to ear. He had Such love! Such amazement, bursting from within him! It was apparent he was thrilled! But the poor woman wasn't amused. For a split moment, I paused. I debated on running over to her & saying what was truly in my heart.

"Hey pretty momma. Just pause for a moment. Bask in this glory. Truly take it all in. Truly thank god for this sweet baby you have inside of you, that is probably kicking your bladder like a punching bag. Smile. Give in to your husbands excitement & just let him take your picture! You will be so thankful you did when this is all over. You will be thankful that you have that precious memory on file to look back on. Don't take single second for granite. That baby just might not make it 'til it's birthday, breathing. Your life can be altered. Derailed. In a matter of a split second. Take it all in. Let that baby know & feel just how much you & your husband LOVE him or her! Slow down. Time will surely fly by."

I literally wanted to run up to the lady & just make her realize (if she didn't already) that what she's carrying is truly a miracle!

But after my long pause to watch these two interact, I felt a bit jealous & had to leave before I ruined their moment together. As I hurried away I could feel the tears swelling in my eyes. My pain & heart ache came rushing back to me as fresh as the day when I found out Harbor's heart was no longer beating.

Since that night, I have been in a bad mood. Unable to pinpoint, until this evening, why.  I hate feeling like a nut case. I am so thankful for friends, family members & other people that are pregnant, really I am. I just wish that I was still pregnant too. I wish things hadn't gone the way they did. I wish that I never had to know such sorrow.

Return to Zero

How can a whole entire MONTH go by? How can it be an entire month since Harbor was born? It doesn't seem very long but in other ways it feels like an eternity.

On March 12, my little Sister, my neighbor friend and I drove 2 1/2 hours to San Jose to see the movie Premiere of Return to Zero. It's a movie about a couple whom experience a stillbirth of their son. The couple grief in their own separate ways (much like my husband & I have been.) This movie was pretty spot on for emotional truth. I wish there was a little bit more of the woman being upset and the ONLY dislike was a sex scene in Vegas because you see the husbands bum, full on naked. Personally, Totally un-needed.

But it was a well written story. I know it was based on a true story & they definitely did a wonderful job portraying everything. You laughed. You cried. You wanted to slap a few of the characters at different points in the movie! Lol! It was really good!

After the movie was over. The 2 people I had taken with me, asked me if I had needed a tissue at all during the movie. My response was...No. "Why not?" They questioned, as they both keep needing them through out the movie....because I am living it. I have cried nearly everyday for the past month. I could relate with the Main character played by Minnie Driver. I cried during the movie but not to the extent of my sister & friend. I didn't need too. I have been enduring it for a month now.

My brain is rambling, again. Make it stop.

(I'm gunna keep it real. I have debated about writing something's I may regret later. But who am I. If I don't keep it real? I can't be happy all the time. That wouldn't be right of me. So here it is....ME....in real time. Being human & utterly, real.)

I'm really feeling depressed tonight. Completely overwhelmed & stressed beyond my limits. Rowdy, crazy, loud children...fighting, arguing & crying. All. Day. Long. A tuned out husband, oblivious to anything going on around him. I'm not sure if it's his way of coping today. All I know is it isn't helpful for me. I took 3 of the kids to church by myself while he stayed home "sick." I don't actually believe he had a Headache. I think he stayed up way to late & early morning church just wasn't what he wanted to do...again.

I hate that I have harbored bad feelings from when "M" was a sick baby & I was caring for him in the hospital by myself. All comes to the surface when ever I feel as though I am alone. My husbands way of dealing with our sons illnesses was to mope around the house doing nothing & too worried to care for our 2 older kids. So I would have to arrange childcare for them whenever "M" was hospitalized. He wouldn't even go to work.

I know my husband has come along way since then, but whenever I feel alone &
Like I have to man up and be both parents my hurt feelings from before come out.

I don't mean to be mean, but I am. Regardless of if my husband is truly sick & needs to stay home. I guess it's an issue I need to work through.

But today. I am depressed. I am overwhelmed. I am in need of someone to take care if me. Today has been the 1st time since Harbor's death, that I have even been so overwhelmed that I have had a thought of suicide. It lasted only a couple of minutes but I was aware & snapped out of it quickly. Thank goodness for perspectives.

I, of course, won't openly admit that statement above out loud. But today has been hard for me. Just when I think I have my act together & feel like I can breath & possibly start living again...wham....something creeps in & tears me down. I feel like the worlds worst mother right now. I don't want to interact with my children. I don't want to do anything. Not cooking. Not cleaning. Not getting out of bed. Not get dressed or showered. I don't even want to eat most days. My appetite is not there anymore. I do eat. But not like I did before.

Aaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhh..........yes, that was me screaming out of frustration.

This is such a lonely path through life. All those people whom you thought were your friends, they have stopped calling, texting, messaging & talking to you. Even your own family members will find it difficult to talk to you, message you, call you, even look you in the face. It sucks. Losing a baby sucks to its fullest. You tend to lose more then your baby.

You. Lose. Yourself.

Little Reminders

Today at church, there were little reminders everywhere.

Reminders of Harbor, in the baby boy I held with "A" during sacrament. How much "A's" love for little babies just astounds me. He begged to hold the baby boy in front of us. The way his little face lit up as we held him. Snuggling & rocking him in his arms. I imagine that that is how it would have been like if Harbor was here! I got choked up just thinking about it.

Reminders of Harbor, in a tiny baby doll that was on the ground in Nursery class. This baby doll was eerily similar to the exact size of Harbor. The Length & head size,  down to its feet & hands. I actually picked it up & held it in my hands just to compare it to what it was like when I held Harbor. It was so close. I mean, even it's weight was so close.

Reminders of Harbor, in the smell of a sweet loving sister that asked me how I was doing. She saw me sitting in Nursery class when she peeked in on her own daughter. She mouthed to me "How are you doing?" To which I answered back to her. She must have felt my heartache because she came in & sat down beside me. She apologized for our loss & informed me that she had lost 5 babies. So she could relate to me to some degree. But what caught my attention, it was her breath. No. It didn't stink. She actually was chewing gum. The same smell that was on Harbors blanket. The same smell that I think of every time I think of Harbor and open his memory box. Harbor's memory box has this same smell that seeped from its contents, onto everything it contains!

I have been having a hard time lately & I just needed/wanted some sort of sign that Harbor is near me. That He is some how aware that I miss him. That I am NOT alone. Today. All these reminders, were just what I needed, to reassure me that I am NOT alone. That The Lord knows my heartache and that He is aware of me during this difficult time.

It's the little reminders that I think are going to help me the most!

Breaking Point

There's a reason why I don't openly share my feelings on Facebook. I posted something venting how upset I was from my experience at the hospital this afternoon. Only to receive what felt like a bashing from a "friend" stating the following and (some other things as well): "I do have to say this is going too far. Crap happens in this world to everyone and it sucks."

Basically telling me I need to stop posting stuff that brings everyone down. Um, I'm sorry. If you don't like what I have to say then delete me as a Friend. It's that simple. Or don't look at my posts. Whatever. I don't care. Life isn't all rainbows, butterflies & candy.

I know eventually I will move forward. But this private message was totally out of line. I think 1 or 2 venting posts on Facebook since Harbor was born, isn't going to kill you. But to say it as though every time I'm on the computer, I'm bashing pregnant people or something.

I am thrilled for everyone that is expecting a baby. I have family members whom are expecting. I actually pray that they never have to struggle like I am with the loss of a child. But to be an insensitive jerk like the rest of them, after loosing a baby of your own, I will never understand. Yeah I had a bad day. Yeah I vented publicly. No I don't expect everyone to go out of their way to accommodate me & my grieving heart. No I don't break down every time I see someone pregnant or holding a baby. But today was a lot harder then most days.

Returning to the same place where I was informed Harbor had died, triggered my scabbed over feelings that came pouring out in tears. Your right, crap happens & it sucks. Also, I have every right to openly express how I feel.

Did you know at a point in my life Suicide was all I could think of? Did you know cutting myself was a form of therapy to work through my emotions? I have many scars to prove it. Did you know that I struggling with depression and today's events magnified them? Do you know how hard it is for me to say how I feel let alone share my feelings with ANYONE? Do you know I don't have 1 single friend that I can run too, to truly cry on their shoulder or vent too or just talk/Cry too, like you have. I don't even have siblings that I can talk too. I have 8 siblings & not 1 single one of them have called, wrote or asked me how I was doing? Not even my own mom. Do you know how hard that is?

No. No you didn't. Why? Because you were too busy judging me & telling me that basically that I have no right to say how I feel. I need to suck it up & be grateful for the children I do have. I am grateful for each & every one of my children. But I am also mourning the loss of Harbor & you know what? That's normal & perfectly OK to do so.

So sorry if this reply comes off as hurtful, but your message to me was. Regardless of if you didn't mean too. I have sat here bawling from your hurtful comments.

I am grateful for the Plan of Salvation & I am fully aware of each & every blessing in my life!

Look at the positive you say...positive? That I am here to walk without this 1 child in my life. There is no positive about that at all.

Help others you say...that is all I ever do. I am the 1st person to take a meal or babysit a kid. I visit others all the time. I make things, cook things, give things, give my time. I find joy in help others. But right now, I am alone. I don't have anyone doing, saying or helping me.

Thank you for all the wonderful reminders that I am a horrible person for having a bad day & venting. Sorry if I "took it too far."

SALT

I can NOT be the 1st person to lose a baby while pregnant with them. In fact I KNOW I'm not. I can NOT be the 1st person to have to go to the OB's office after a loss either.

I am really upset with how things were handled. I am saddened, hurt & angry at the lack of sensitivity towards women whom have just lost their babies.

Let me help you understand: my heart is aching so very badly because I will never get to hold, cuddle or look at my son ever again. You see, he died when I was 16 weeks pregnant with him.

Now if you can imagine my pain & sorrow. Truly imagine it. Now imagine 4 weeks after loosing your son, you have to go to the waiting room office of FULL of pregnant happy women. You go to check in while trying to hold back tears. The receptionist is pregnant. She informs you that because YOU are NO longer pregnant you have a $45 co-pay for your office visit. You are also going to be seen by some random Dr because yours is out sick...again. But no one informed you ahead of time so that you could have made the decision before hand to be seen by a stranger or wait until your Dr is back. You are then told to go sit & wait in that same waiting room with ALL those pregnant women. You sit & try not to bawl your eyes out while waiting to be called back to be seen.

Now I want to know, if 1 in 4 pregnancies end in a miscarriage or a loss, then why the heck isn't there more sensitivity towards those women? Why isn't there a special office or waiting room we could be sent too so we aren't faced with the reality once again that our babies are no longer with us. Instead we are forced to sit with other pregnant women. Now, Let's just POUR SALT into their open wounds. Let's just make matters worse for that mom whom might be contemplating suicide so the heartache will just end. Let's just allow her to suffer in silence.

I don't want to feel alone any more. I don't want to be mistreated by insensitive personnel any more. I don't feel it's right. Women need to be informed that there is a high chance that their baby might not make it to full term or even if it does, that it doesn't guarantee a happy, healthy baby in the end.

I left my appointment this morning, MORE depressed. MORE hurt. MORE angry. MORE disappointed. Moms shouldn't have to leave their appointments feeling this way. The medical field is lacking in empathy. It's lacking in the ability to truly help their patients when they need it the most. I hope my words will be taken into account. Things need to be changed. Especially in regards to women after a loss.

Why does it have to be so Taboo?

There is nothing you can say or do to comfort me. There are no words that can right this wrong.

I started this blog to help myself cope with the loss of my son Harbor. I am the kind of person that internalizes everything. I am a thinker. A ponderer. I over worry about most everything. I hate being blind sided. I don't care much for surprises.

Don't get me wrong, I am a go with the flow kind of person. But when bad things happen or difficult situations arise, I like to feel as though I have some sort of control over what's going on or at least feel, like I have control over how I react to what's going on.

Let me elaborate on what I mean to say: when my now 7 yr old was born ("M") he had many medical/health problems. I would research possible diagnosis' and grieve over the devastatingly bad news of possible out comes for our son. I would spend hours, days & weeks toiling over what his life & our lives would be like with "M" in it or not in it.

Once I grieved over the possibilities. It was easier to move on & once an actual diagnosis arose, it was easier for me to handle. Kind of like I was able to prepare myself for what was to come. I once told my husband that the reason I seemed so strong during grueling hospital stays & endless trips to the ER or Dr visits with "M" was because I grieved & then moved on to the...OK, now we know what's going on phase. I could pull up my big girl panties & move onto: How are we going to manage his care & what do I need to do to get us through this with the best possibly out come.

Kind of like, I knew what was happening. So I wasn't stuck in the "What if's?" & "Why me, why us & why our son?" Questions. I was a take charge person & I was NOT a heap of bawling, blubbering mommy emotions. I knew what would be happening & how it would happen. I wasn't scared. I wasn't an emotional wreck. I would say I handled a lot of my sons appointments, surgeries & diagnosis' with peace, comfort & poise. I had my moments of crying, yelling at God & Indifference's with many Drs. But for the most part, I held myself together quite well.

I was informed. Not taken by surprise. I felt prepared for what was to come.

But in the case with a late term miscarriage or loss of a baby...I wasn't prepared. I was completely, 100% taken by surprise. Unaware of the events to follow. Unaware of the pain stakingly hard decisions I would have to make.

Naive, I suppose. Lacking in this information of probable loss. No books I've read had prepared me. No friends had truly warned me that it was a high possibility. I knew it happened but I mean, I've probably heard a handful of people's stories told through random second party retold stories. Nothing 1st hand from someone whom experienced it. I totally bought into the whole, once you've reached that 12week "safety-zone" your out of the woods & it's a for sure thing. I thought once I had past the 1st trimester that I was pretty much guaranteed a happy, healthy baby at the end of my long journey to 37-41 weeks.

Boy was I wrong to believe such ideas. It bothers me that I took for granite the ability to carry & birth a live baby in the end. I hate that miscarriages, late term miscarriages & still births are so Taboo. It needs to be known. Moms need to know that even though they are pregnant now, that there is a good probability that your baby might not make here on Earth, alive. They need to be informed so that they can be prepared. So that when or if, it happens to them, they can know that others walked this horrible road before them & that they are NOT alone.

Since I have been honest with my friends & family about our loss, of our son Harbor, out loud. I have been shocked & flooded with stories of others whom have lost a baby at some point during their pregnancies. I can't count on my fingers & toes because there have been too many to keep count of. What ticks me off is...why the hell am I just learning of these loss' now? How come nobody has spoken up before & shared their bitterness, their heartache and their journey through grief? Why bottle it up & hide it like its a dirty little secret?

It's NO secret.

MY. SON. DIED.

Am I sad? Yes! Am I angry? Yes! Am I heart broken? Most definitely! Am I trying to pick up the pieces? Of course! Do I have to walk this road alone? I most certainly, hope not.

I hope more people step up and have the courage & can be brave enough to share their stories with the world. My son meant the world to me! I want everyone to get to know him! I want his life (even though it ended in utero) to be known! He lived! For 16 glorious weeks, he lived! He lived inside of me! And that's the hardest part of sharing my story. I am the ONLY person who knew him while he was alive.

Processing. Please wait....

After last nights parent support group meeting, my brain has so much to download & process.

There was an Art therapist that came & walked us through some of our emotions we are dealing with as grieving parents. To be quite honest, my brain kept shutting off & wondering to somewhere else in time. I found it extremely hard to listen & understand the words coming from her mouth. I would catch myself drifting somewhere & then snap back out of it & be present once again.

I remember her talking about something to do with when you're emotionally traumatized in a sense, your brain throws the events in a space in the brain & we find it hard to process those feelings into words. So through the art process, drawing, scribbling, doodling, etc....we can try to help that part of our brain turn those feelings into something tangible. Something easier for our brains to handle.

We soften the blow of the horrible events that we have had to go through & we can alter the events into something more happy so that we can cope better.

Again...in & out of being in the moment for me...the therapist is now ready to start. We are asked to draw a picture of how we feel about our babies and our connection with them.

I drew a picture of an empty pregnant body. I had to use a navy blue color but I wanted to use black. But couldn't find it in an oil pastel. I then find & grab a black sharpie marker and draw a black baby figure drifting upwards holding onto a blue balloon. The baby figure is reaching out to the pregnant belly. As if it didn't want to go, but HAD too. I couldn't help but cry as I drew the entire time. I just kept thinking of Harbor & how much I just wanted MORE time with him. But that I felt HE was ripped away, all too soon.

That was the end of our 1st step. Which we didn't know was the 1st step.

The therapist then asked us to add something to our pictures that would help make the pictures safer. Draw something that would help make your previous drawing easier to cope with looking at.

Hhhuuuummmmm......now what can I add? I think to myself. This is so hard to draw how I feel. My mind racing through a bunch of different things I could draw. But then it hits me...a light house on the base of the ocean. With a light beacon shinning from within. And I drew a source of light radiating from the Heavens above.  I added a dark shaded heart from the womb & a red little heart in the baby's body. To show love for each other.

Now, I'm NO artist. But in this case we didn't need to be. It's about each of our individual experiences & the best way to help ourselves cope.

The therapist then had us stop. She asks us to share with everyone what our drawings say to us.

For me...it's finding refuge in a situation that makes me feel so terribly stuck in a whirlpool. There is nothing I can do to change the outcome. All I can do is fight to stay alive. All I can do is pray to a loving Heavenly Father, whom I know loves me & truly loves Harbor as well. All I can do is try to survive the raging storm & hope that when the rage ends, I will some how be able to pick up the pieces & moving forward to rebuild my life, gracefully.

So I will continue to process the bits & pieces from last nights meeting and try to make sense of this whole ordeal.

ANTICIPATION

The anticipation is killing me. Today is the 1st time my husband & I get to go to our support group meeting for parents of babies whom have passed.

I suppose I am nervous about what is going to happen. How I am going to feel? How is my husband going to feel? Is it going to be helpful for the BOTH of us? Is this meeting going to stir up feelings I have been trying to push aside & not deal with? Am I going to be a big blubbering idiot that whole time?

All I know is that feeling depressed isn't how I want to keep living. I can't keep doing/acting the way I have been. My lack of interest in anything & everything isn't okay. I have 4 other kids to: teach, love, take care of, nurture, inspire, etc. I can't just give up.

Oh how easy it would be to just give up. I have struggled with depression almost all my life. As a teenager I actually attempted suicide on numerous occasions. At 1 point I was in a mental hospital for a month due to repeated, unsuccessful, suicidal attempts. I was really depressed then, a lot like I am now. But thankfully I have learned the coping skills I need to make sure that I don't get to that point again. It is a daily choice I have to make & Some days are definitely harder then others.

Harbor's death has been challenging to not repeat my past behaviors. I want to be happy, healthy and productive in my life! I do. I really do. But it is hard to continue on in life, when you feel as though part of you died, the same time your baby did. It's a constant battle between Heaven & Earth. I would miss out on everything my 4 older child do, say or go through, here on Earth. But I am also missing out on so much as well without Harbor here too.

The anticipation is killing. The anticipation of waiting to leave this Earthly world so I can snuggle my little boy. To see him happy, healthy & smiling! To have him cuddle my neck with his little arms! To hear him say "Momma!" Or anything thing for that matter! To see what color is hair would be or his eyes! Would he have his Momma's eyes, bright & blue as the oceans water? Or would he be our 1st baby to have his Daddy's deep Honey brown eyes, that I love so very much?

Today....the anticipation of everything, is eating at my very existence.

To close to home.....

A friend of mine sent me a link on Facebook today, with this article (below) that a father wrote after he & his wife lost their son. After reading this article, I truly felt like it could have very well been written by my very own husband about our experience when we had Harbor. And because it was so beautifully written, I have copied & pasted it here on my blog for you all to read. ~R

THE BLOG

Dear Son, It Was An Honor To Hold You

Tom Riles03/07/14 12:21 PM ET

Dear Son,

I held you on Friday night for the first and last time ever. It was one of the saddest, proudest, most heartbreaking, and beautiful moments of my life. It was an honor to hold you.

I'm proud of you, son. Even though you only made it halfway through the pregnancy, you have left a mark on our family that will last forever. Because of you, I love my wife more than ever. Because of you, I feel a stronger connection with my kids then ever. When I hug them, I feel your presence.

Sadly, I'll always remember the phone call last week from your mom when she told me that we lost you. I was home with your brother and sister, and I was in shock. Your pregnancy seemed to be the smoothest and most healthy one that your mom had ever had. I did my best to comfort her on the phone, and then we grieved together when you both got home. Our kids didn't let us cry too much, though, because they kept requesting snacks, more snacks, and more snacks after that.

Usually Friday is a day that I look forward to, but not last Friday. I never shave on Fridays, but this time I did. This was the only day that I would ever hold you... I had to look my best. When we checked into the hospital at 8 a.m., it was a dark, dreary, and rainy day, just like the feeling in our hearts.

Your mom took medication to start the labor process, and over the next 10 hours, she showed her love and devotion to you as we neared your birth. By the way, your mom is the most incredible and beautiful person I have ever met. I'm so lucky to be with her and call her my wife.

At 8:35 p.m. on Friday, February 28th, you were born. Even though there was no life in your beautiful body, you were full of love, heart, and courage.

Your mom held you, and then it was my turn. I felt both happy and devastated to be holding my second son in the palm of my hands. We cried. We told you about your brother and sister. We visualized you running through open fields somewhere, free, happy, and full of life. We sang to you. After singing the final line of "Silent Night" to you... "Sleep in heavenly peace..." we knew that it was time to say goodbye.

You were with us for way too short of a time, but you will be remembered forever. We named you Scotland Bansley Riles, and your mom and I will bring your ashes with us someday when we travel to Scotland. Usually we don't travel with our kids (they're a little too crazy), but we want to show you the world.

Our precious Scotty... I miss you more than I've ever missed anything. We love you. We will honor you. We will be better parents and people because of you. Thank you.

Love, Dad

For anybody that is going through a situation like this, know that you are not alone.

Scotty, that is your older brother, Tommy, blowing out a candle celebrating your life.

This piece was originally posted on Life of Dad.

Crying. Lots and lots of crying.

3 weeks. How has 3 weeks flown by so quickly? Or hasn't it? Have I just been stuck in that day. The day Harbor was born.

In 4 days my husband & I will attend our 1st ever support group for grieving parents. At 1st I thought this would be really great for my husband but as the day gets nearer, I know that to be utterly wrong. I am the one whom needs it most.

I am completely depressed. I don't sit & cry all day long. (Usually only at night when I'm by myself and everyone is asleep.) But all day long I feel such a heaviness upon me. A dark cloud just looming over head. I just feel like I'm 1 incident away from bawling my eyes out. I feel so lost. I feel so useless. I am so consumed with grief that I just don't know how to move on. Maybe out of fear. Fear of forgetting. Fear of remembering. Fear of hurting forever. I don't know. Maybe all of the above.

Last night "A" was screaming & crying inconsolably. I was literally up almost all night long. Every time I went to sit down while holding him because he had fallen asleep, he could somehow tell & wake screaming once again.

At one point during one of his screaming fits I started to sing to him, to try & comfort him. The song that came to mind was a hymn "Families can be together forever." While singing him this song, I lost it bawling. I couldn't even finish humming the song. One of the lines that stung most was "I have a family here on earth. They are so good to me. I want to share my life with them for all eternity."

I do have most of my family here on earth! Yes they are good to me! And I most definitely want to spend all of eternity with each any everyone of them! But what hurt the most was the realization that Harbor isn't here on earth any more. I sobbed as I held "A" & then the most amazing thing happened.

During the wee hours of the morning while sobbing and trying to console a really unhappy 18 month old...."A" stopped crying & he wrapped his little arms around my neck & hugged me tight. It was like we connected. It was like, Heaven sending me a hug from Harbor through his big brother. A hug so powerful, that it calmed my aching heart. I truly felt as though "A" was trying to tell me that everything is going to be alright. And he didn't even have to say a thing. It was just the most incredible confirmation that I am NOT alone during this grieving process.

It. Kills. Me.

No one ever prepares you for the roller coaster of emotions grief releases on you after a loss of a child. 

I have lost friends, family members, pets...but nothing can prepare you for this. 

Yes, I have 4 living kids. I'm grateful beyond words! Believe me. But what kills me day in & day out is...all the dreams I had for Harbor as apart of MY everyday life. All the empty clothing, that I had bought in anticipation of his arrival. 

1 outfit I bought was a "My 1st Thanksgiving" onesies. So carefully picked out to be about the right size to fit him at that time frame. 

You want to know what kills me the most? What kills me is that everything of Harbor's fits into a very small wooden box. That's it. Everything of my sons, fits into a small box. I can't fit everything of my older children's in to just 1 small tiny box. 

It. Kills. Me.

"Re-capping"

So bare with me a few minutes as I recap on some events that happened shortly after Harbor was born. 

~February 18, 2014~

Just days after Harbor was born, WIC contacted me to let me know that I had missed my appointment. (My appointment was on February 13.) Like I didn't already know that I had missed it. -Insert sarcasm here- I was still in the hospital having just had Harbor. So on the 18th I decided to call & figure something out. While on the phone waiting to have a WIC worker answer my call they play a message. This message goes on telling thus said listener that WIC is wonderful. (Well it has been helpful.) but the message went on. Pregnancy this & pregnancy that. WIC has now made it easier for you to enroll your new baby once it's born. 

I can see where this information can be helpful, but can I remind you that I had just experienced a late term miscarriage just days before. I tried everything in my powers to hold back tears while listening to this God awful, pregnancy/ baby filled message that KEPT REPEATING ITSELF. Are you freaking kidding me? 10 minutes on hold waiting through this painful reminder that I am not joyously expecting a baby anymore. 

Finally a WIC rep answered the phone. I informed her that I had missed my appointment because I was in the hospital having my son & that he died. She apologized and then informed me that I would have to come in to the office to pick up my vouchers. WHAT THE......???????? Did she not hear me right? So I repeat to her that my son had died. She says "I am so sorry but because you haven't turned in your paper work for your blood work we can't mail you your vouchers. You have to come in." Are you kidding me? 

About this same time I received a picture text message. (I will later fill you in on my reason for adding this in the mix and it will make sense. I promise.) 

I am still trying to figure out how I can get around coming into their office. The rep keeps telling me that I have to come in. Argh. I just wish I could have reached through the phone at that point & literally strangled the person on the other end. Whatever. Frustrated. I end our call. Apparently I'm not getting anywhere with this lady. 

I get off the phone with the WIC rep & go on to check my text messages to see who sent me a message. It was from an unknown number. The number looked familiar but I couldn't place my finger on where I knew it from. So I opened it. 

Worst. Mistake. Ever.

The picture loads & it is a newborn baby on a weight station table. And the message reads....

Introducing the newest love of my life my grandson Carter Benjamin --------!!!!!!! Can you hear my heart singing!!!!!!!!

I lost it bawling so hard. Really? Are you freaking kidding? Who the freak is sending me a text like this so soon after my loss? 

Once I read the last name of the baby it all made sense on who sent it. It was a midwife that we had enquired with just weeks before. But we had decided to not go with her because we loved the 1st one we met with. 

So I kindly sent a text back....."Congratulations! But I just lost my son at 16 weeks pregnant. I can't take anyone's good news right now. Please take my number off your call list." 

I ran to my bedroom & just hysterically cried for a good hour. During that time I texted my husband at work & informed him of what had just happened. He tried to console me from afar. But it didn't help. 

The midwife lady then sends me another text...."I am soooooooo sorry.....my sisters name is Robin and I sent the text in error......I am soooooo sorry!!!

I didn't care. I felt it was a cruel, cruel joke. Sort of, some sick prank. But unfortunately I wasn't laughing. I was truly at my lowest low. That was the straw that broke my camels back. 

I was hurt. I was angry. I was depressed. I was crushed. I was really, really pissed off. 

Not only because of this "wonderful" text of someone's good news. But because WIC was insisting that I come into their office in person. If you have never been inside of a WIC office, let me enlighten you a second....the name of the place is WIC. It stands for: Women, infant & Children. Yep! The place is infested with them. My pulse rate was sky rocket high just thinking about what I was going to have to face when I went into their office. Pregnant women just sitting there in those chairs. Or those who had just had their babies, sitting there with their car seats, strollers, and arms full with live, living, breathing babies. How in the world do they seriously expect me to come in? 

After a few hours, I called the WIC office back. Had to sit through another long repeated message, the same as before just to take to a rep. The same freaking lady answered the phone. Are you kidding me? I told her through my sobs that there was no way I was going to come in today. I didn't think it was fair that I would have to come in & sit with pregnant, happy moms and newborn babies just to get my vouchers. Can't they mail them to me? We can she says, but because you haven't turned in your blood work, paper work we can't mail them to you. We need that paper work. I said "Is the paper work for me or my son?" She said its for your son. I said "well I turned it in last month & I have it in my clear file with my folder." She then says oh I see that you turned his in last month. Oh it's for you. "Oh really? You need blood work for a pregnancy that is NO longer a pregnancy? Please tell me how this makes sense?" The state needs it otherwise we can't give you your vouchers. "Well then, I don't want my vouchers. I am not coming in to your office filled with pregnant ladies. I think its wrong & very mean of you guys to do this to people who've just been through a lot as it is." She then informs me that she can mail me my sons vouchers but vouchers for me won't be allowed to be sent to me because the lack of this 1 paper. I told her I don't care. I'm not pregnant anymore so it doesn't matter. 

Really? Was all of this madness necessary? It was my 1st major, horrible, terrible bad day after Harbor was born. 

"Tut-tut it looks like rain!"

Today is such a beautiful day. The rain has finally let up, after days of doom & gloom, Dark clouds & coldness. The Sun is shining! The birds are singing & all in life seems to be wonderful.

Except.....ME!

I have a heaviness that looms about me. That feeling that the other ball is going to drop & everything will be sent back into chaos. My heart is aching bad today. Oh how I just miss my dear Harbor boy.

I was holding & rocking "A" (my 18 month old.) He has a cold. Runny nose & cough & he just feels miserable. All he wants is his momma. So as I was holding him, trying to get him to fall asleep. My mind started wandering. Thoughts like: Oh how I wish this was Harbor's little body, oh how Harbor looked so much like "A" & his profile.

Does this madness ever subside? I'm starting to think it doesn't. I have many Facebook friends whom have posted things this week about "How time doesn't ever take away the pain." 1 particular friend, said that she felt like it was yesterday. Even though it was over 10 yrs ago that she lost her son. Ugh. I don't feel like I will ever shake out of this dark pit of sadness.

I know my husband is still struggling hard. I keep trying to get him to talk to me. I want to know where he's at. I'm starting to feel like we have a wedge between us at the moment. Not that we are fighting & arguing. But just an avoidance of each other, so we won't have to discuss how we are truly feeling or try & have a conversation that is forced because all we can think about is Harbor & talking about anything else takes too much thought & energy.

Neither of us can barely sleep. It's effecting my ability to be a good Home Schooling momma to my 4 older children. My husbands lack of sleep is effecting his ability to perform up to par at work. He is super tired all the time. Falling asleep in his chair shortly after getting home, some days. It's frustrating, because I would like to just go nap. But like I said before, we have 4 older kids to tend too. I don't want to be angry or jealous. I know he works hard for us, so that I can stay at home with our children. But lately I find myself a tad more irritated.

Irritated with my husband, my children, myself & my lack of interest in doing anything. I feel consumed with grief & rightfully so. After all I did give birth to my son & he is no longer here on earth for me to have & hold.

Honestly, I would really love to just not get out of bed in the mornings. I would much rather stay in bed & feel sorry for myself all day. But I have 4 older kids that need mom to: make breakfast, change their diapers, get them their medicine, insist that they get dressed (all the while, I'm still in my PJs until afternoon time), make sure they accomplish some sort of academics for the day, run them to their activities, make them food and break up fights between them.

You wouldn't ever think I would have time during my day to think about Harbor, but it's just the opposite. Every time I do something for or with my older children, Harbor is ALL I can think about. Would I be sitting at the table nursing him while doing school work with my older kids? Would he be a super good sleeper? Would I be holding him all day? What types of food would he like or hate? What would be his favorite toy? What would be his favorite song? Would he enjoy playing the piano like the older boys? How would he fit into our family dynamics? Would "A" smoother him in kisses & ask to hold Harbor all day long? Would the older 4 argue over who gets to hold him?

I swear my brain never stops and I feel totally consumed in the "what ifs?" and other questions.

While the world continues to buzz around me, I feel trapped in a looking glass. Where I can see & hear everyone & everything, but the interaction just isn't there.

Nearly 3 whole weeks since Harbor was born and it truly does feel like yesterday. I hope that I don't feel like this forever. But part of me wants too. So that I don't ever forget him.