tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76825814032353667022024-03-19T09:08:06.104-04:00Twisted Journey... Traveling with GraceShelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.comBlogger15125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-52833158357446642052013-03-05T13:36:00.001-05:002013-03-05T13:40:31.492-05:00Reaching Personal Goals...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">I'm not one
to pat myself on the back, or really even be proud of myself. It's just
not my nature. But here I am, ready to toot my own horn! I'm just
so pleased with my accomplishment that I actually want to ingrain it my memory
and the best way for me to be able to do this is by saying it out loud ~
I've successfully breastfed my rainbow for her first 10 months!!</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9fdb3HffwDEIKb4hUY5ZCRwXlr6AlOeI9rhMq9AReMjWHLyjUhKw0z2kkBxQMcvCWA887bWNigvWYTrlWZ3M_bIBT15r03qKb6byco1f_may3zAZJ-ptw8gU-mRzOCBhNpAU0xQa_lkk/s1600/7+months+full+of+breastmilk+goodness+-+adjusted.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh9fdb3HffwDEIKb4hUY5ZCRwXlr6AlOeI9rhMq9AReMjWHLyjUhKw0z2kkBxQMcvCWA887bWNigvWYTrlWZ3M_bIBT15r03qKb6byco1f_may3zAZJ-ptw8gU-mRzOCBhNpAU0xQa_lkk/s320/7+months+full+of+breastmilk+goodness+-+adjusted.jpg" width="277" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">7 months full of breast milk goodness!! <br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">(* Rainbow diaper from <a href="http://www.greengenesdiapers.com/">http://www.greengenesdiapers.com</a>)</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">You see, even
before conceiving Stella I knew I wanted to breastfeed my children and offer
them the very best possible nutrition for as long as possible. But
knowing myself and how life always seems to throw me obstacles I worried I
wouldn't be able to properly feed my baby(ies), so I immediately broke it all
down in to smaller, hopefully more manageable, time frames that I could still
feel good about. For some reason 15 months popped in my head and seemed
like my ultimate goal, so I worked back from there: </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">12 months = Great
Goal</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">9 months = Ideal</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">6 months = My
Basic </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">3 months = A Must
for Me Personally</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Of course all
these ideals were developed before I actually got a chance to breastfeed a
baby, since Stella's life was tragically cut so short. Once I
finally was blessed with a healthy baby I quickly learned no one had prepared
me for all the challenges of breastfeeding! There were several
breastfeeding bumps in the road in the beginning, but none were as
significant as the horrible <a href="http://twistedjourneytravelingwithgrace.blogspot.com/2012/07/udder-complications.html" target="_blank">ordeal</a> we endured when Iza was just 2 months old.
During those weeks I cried for so many different reasons … Iza's lack of
nutrition, </span><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">pain, </span>missing my daughters, feelings of inadequacy as a mother, but also
because I couldn't imagine how I would ever reach these important goals I had
set for myself. Most importantly, for my daughter's well-being and
healthy foundation.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Thankfully Iza and I
had some wonderful people come to our rescue and helped us over the hump!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">I've since read a
mother describe breastfeeding like a dance. The mother and child are
partners who must get to know each other and the choreography of each dance.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>This takes a lot of patience, time and
practice. Iza and I have tangoed our way through my 9 month goal and we
are smoothly waltzing our way to 12 months. Over coming these trials has
only made my success that much sweeter! So yeah, I'm pretty damn
proud of my resolve! Chalk one up for being stubborn! :)</span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikPC7jnQNcvnKVmpIlpYl5_O8Xq56HmAW8ChnbZfNoy-EaC4ntlFtDq5dKJ77i2CZ8ppVfy1OVDI9-u8HDox_kwEyiWyfnS2S9bO_hNemm6lMUvEf545wBnsamZbFBbdqE9WnnZAdzY0/s1600/Breastmilk+at+6+months+-+cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="268" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiikPC7jnQNcvnKVmpIlpYl5_O8Xq56HmAW8ChnbZfNoy-EaC4ntlFtDq5dKJ77i2CZ8ppVfy1OVDI9-u8HDox_kwEyiWyfnS2S9bO_hNemm6lMUvEf545wBnsamZbFBbdqE9WnnZAdzY0/s320/Breastmilk+at+6+months+-+cropped.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Supplemental breast milk donated by a generous soul (on the left) and my reward from pumping every 4 hours to increase supply after my ordeal </td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td 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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">*** Now I'm
crossing my fingers and hoping all this boasting hasn't jinxed me!!! ***</span></div>
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Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-66577810246438420122013-01-25T16:19:00.001-05:002013-01-25T16:19:16.584-05:002nd Birthday Filled with Hurt…<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKoGh0JyI0qlr0Kww_Gxc-JNhxv1d0wwswZtIZBUuP1hNkqsRE-BsJF49eiV1lOpaPhFpi4ZK0waQRlowT_oXuqYleMDpBohEiz5nPQxV_uPnFo1cLFLIU_Zt4Cg0gV_DkElh9s1yAl4/s1600/Stella's+Name+Written+in+St.+Pete+Sand.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjLKoGh0JyI0qlr0Kww_Gxc-JNhxv1d0wwswZtIZBUuP1hNkqsRE-BsJF49eiV1lOpaPhFpi4ZK0waQRlowT_oXuqYleMDpBohEiz5nPQxV_uPnFo1cLFLIU_Zt4Cg0gV_DkElh9s1yAl4/s320/Stella's+Name+Written+in+St.+Pete+Sand.jpg" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">December 23<sup>rd</sup>.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The date that strikes like a bolt of
lightening cutting through my heart and leaving nothing but a puddle of<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>tears and frazzled nerves behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>December 23, 2012 was Stella’s 2<sup>nd</sup>
birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The date also marks two years
since I last held her in my arms praying to some Higher Power to give her the
strength to prove everyone wrong.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She
had inherited my stubborn streak and I wanted so badly for that quality to be
her saving grace.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Stella did all her
tiny, broken hearted body would allow, but after one hour and forty-seven
minutes her body couldn’t keep up.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>One
hour and forty-seven minutes to be loved, held, caressed, kissed and beg for
her future!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">It’s been nearly a
month since then, but even though I knew I wanted to write about Stella’s Day
my heart was filled with too much hurt, disappointment and anger to
articulately express my feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You
see, Stella’s 2<sup>nd</sup> Birthday wasn’t as I had hoped. Instead of feeling
the support and love of my family and friends, my family closest to me acted as
if it was any other day of the week!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
real kicker was I had more of my family with me for Stella’s 2<sup>nd</sup>
birthday than at her birth or 1<sup>st</sup> birthday, but not a single one
ever bothered to even acknowledge Stella on her day!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No comments what-so-ever!!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>They acted like this was just another typical
holiday gathering of family rather than the special day I had planned in
celebration of Stella’s short life and honor her memory.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Sadly, I, along with a community of <span class="textexposedshow">Baby Loss Mommas whom I've never even met, were the only
ones honoring my first born daughter by keeping Stella in their heart!</span></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">Like last year, we
planned a silly Christmas comedy bus tour for the celebratory nature.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all, if Stella were still with us we
would be having fun, smiling, laughing and celebrating.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The plan was to then drive up to the Parkway
at dusk and honor our daughter by releasing a sky lantern over the French Broad River and then all share a birthday
dinner with our loved ones.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>My first
disappointment came weeks before while we were still in the planning
stages.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Someone I love very much was
coming to town for the holidays, but had no interest in joining us for Stella’s
birthday.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess celebrating a family member’s
birthday wasn’t their idea of fun and the concept of supporting someone you
love never crossed their mind?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Though I
can’t say I was surprised by this, it upset me greatly!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I debated changing our plans and trying to
find some activity that was more likely to suit their ideals, but deep down I
knew I could change everything and them still choose to abstain from Stella’s
day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I decide to focus only on what
mattered most to me … Stella and our immediate family honoring and showering
her with our love.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">On December 23<sup>rd</sup>,
along with a few close family members, we set our plans in motion only for me
to quickly realize no one wanted to be there.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The sting of loneliness within the presence of others set in as I
thought about everyone’s behavior.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Again, I tried to chug along and focus on my sweet Stella and the day’s
activities.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>As we moved closer to dusk
the complaints started rolling in.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Once
again I was put in a position to “fix” everything for others, rather then
anyone thinking about my daughter or I on this difficult day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>We drove to our spot to prepare for our
lantern release where we met up with a couple of other family members who were
unable to join us for most of the day.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>The sky lantern release was a complete failure!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The temperatures were dropping, the wind was
shifting and Trey and I were emotional, so we misjudged when to light and
release the lantern causing it to never gain the loft needed to soar through
the sky and we watched it slowly drop down in to the water.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It felt like another sign ~ even the Universe
didn’t care about honoring Stella!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Feeling
extremely defeated and sad, we left the release spot to meet up with our dinner
companions only to realize they had already decided the day had been too long,
so they were on their way back home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>The
special birthday dinner to honor my precious daughter wasn’t important enough
for them to stick around for? The hurt and sadness quickly made way to
anger!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>How can someone who loves you
have so little respect for your feelings?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>My appetite had left, so the birthday dinner plans crumbled away with my
emotions and we went home.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No cake.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No candle.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Just more tears!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">While still trying
to wrap my head around exactly what took place and what didn’t, I received a
phone call from the bailers.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I made my
feelings fairly clear, though for the life of me I can’t remember exactly what
I said. (This is always an indication that my stress level is through the roof
and my nerves are shot!)<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>With their poor
attempt at an apology came a comment I will never forget ~ “It’s morbid to put
Iza through this sadness year after year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>She’s too young now, but you can’t keep doing this to her!”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So not only does my family not grasp how
important it is to me to acknowledge and honor Stella, it’s morbid and wrong
for me to expose my Rainbow Baby to her big sister’s memory???</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">It’s safe to say
at that point I no longer wanted anything to do with any of them any more!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>If they couldn’t acknowledge my first born
daughter, why should I allow them to be involved with my second born?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Instead we should just plan on spending each
and every one of Stella’s birthdays and Christmas seasons with just the 3 of us
somewhere far away from their interference and negativity!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve cast my votes for Maui
from December 20 – January 2<sup>nd</sup> each year!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But now I’m stuck with the guilt of having a
daughter here on Earth who wouldn’t get to spend her holidays with her extended
family.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Is that fair to her?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No, but it’s not fair to Stella to be
forgotten either!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";">So for the next 11
months I’ll be hashing this over non-stop trying to figure out what is right
for us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>For Stella!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why does this have to be so difficult?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why can’t we celebrate her like we would any
other child?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Why can’t my family and
friends support me and help make an already painful situation better?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Will this ever get any easier?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Obviously I don’t have the answers, though I
sure wish I did!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS";"><span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: left; margin-right: 1em; text-align: left;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GP4iJ_6lfncIkLyq9YmqoSYAMch0bUze2nPJ4LemeYESz0gp5f5QBCPnU6QR2AxmnEuN2XKw7GRSrqzOJK1rALcDvLGf-NIiIkJGOx5SIaaxoVzlx4f84oaeymOtyW62Lbz8xTAsql0/s1600/Stella's+Balloon+1-1-13+-+cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="234" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1GP4iJ_6lfncIkLyq9YmqoSYAMch0bUze2nPJ4LemeYESz0gp5f5QBCPnU6QR2AxmnEuN2XKw7GRSrqzOJK1rALcDvLGf-NIiIkJGOx5SIaaxoVzlx4f84oaeymOtyW62Lbz8xTAsql0/s320/Stella's+Balloon+1-1-13+-+cropped.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stella's Dragonfly Balloon </td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<br />
<table cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="float: right; margin-left: 1em; text-align: right;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQ4m35s2XE3c8rigr89v3f-2l6vxPCoI-5snCHBgzIWKeVTs2hWo3w-VnPT1_pGZCwOJo9YxBK-3ZTO8kgHD5zVYpci_f7TJQ4okVQU9hlvXhdVvpKGCPauHKo29cZf99bVb0jykrc-0/s1600/Stella's+Balloon+Release+1-1-13+-+cropped.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhgQ4m35s2XE3c8rigr89v3f-2l6vxPCoI-5snCHBgzIWKeVTs2hWo3w-VnPT1_pGZCwOJo9YxBK-3ZTO8kgHD5zVYpci_f7TJQ4okVQU9hlvXhdVvpKGCPauHKo29cZf99bVb0jykrc-0/s320/Stella's+Balloon+Release+1-1-13+-+cropped.jpg" width="220" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Releasing Stella's Balloon ~ New Years Day 2013</td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><br /></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-39651428408281742212012-10-18T22:51:00.000-04:002012-10-21T22:14:07.424-04:00The Greatest Gift...<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma;">Some how life always has a way of slowing you down, but never has this
been more true than this last year. Here
I am 6 months later with the long overdue introduction of our gorgeous rainbow!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dHF12GT4euq_j4PTj6Yx3brosKFzZ3Gzl_Wgnrkpczu6NmWWnxoXkLOHzz8Wdad7u5j1cOv71RL6eVB-ZE0pUVQ5axP28U-mxdYmSg8PD8LqaWU5EVvUsHruKmNyF9tHC5osb46a3V8/s1600/4x5.5h_Izabella_Front2s.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj2dHF12GT4euq_j4PTj6Yx3brosKFzZ3Gzl_Wgnrkpczu6NmWWnxoXkLOHzz8Wdad7u5j1cOv71RL6eVB-ZE0pUVQ5axP28U-mxdYmSg8PD8LqaWU5EVvUsHruKmNyF9tHC5osb46a3V8/s1600/4x5.5h_Izabella_Front2s.jpeg" /></a></div>
<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAOn8NT5YdhALMD_Dq3xZTUiBhKX4Ppj_2C8VmqGEN4W7_UekV8l64QcY-4hKy9796QxhyDgxRoZtJBfYI3QPFw2bbNmqcd_0l8GL8-uRdFEb0-lXys-lCrNnLqxMF8IdMOqeMjpsEl0/s1600/4x5.5h_Izabella_Back3s.jpeg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhfAOn8NT5YdhALMD_Dq3xZTUiBhKX4Ppj_2C8VmqGEN4W7_UekV8l64QcY-4hKy9796QxhyDgxRoZtJBfYI3QPFw2bbNmqcd_0l8GL8-uRdFEb0-lXys-lCrNnLqxMF8IdMOqeMjpsEl0/s1600/4x5.5h_Izabella_Back3s.jpeg" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma;"><br /></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;">Our precious Izabella Luna was born on April 18th at 1:26 am! My induction began on April 16th at 8am and
moved very, very slowly since I was trying to do as little Pitocin as
possible. I talked my </span><st1:place style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';" w:st="on">OB</st1:place><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;">
in to allowing me to be induced with only the folly bulb and no additional
medication because I didn’t want to be tied to an IV pole or relive the
memories that came along with the device.
It became evident that wasn't going to work by late Monday night, but
they gave me until morning to continue to try other methods to dilate my
cervix. So my husband and I walked the
halls <b>ALL NIGHT LONG</b>! I tried
homeopathies, foot massages, squats and dancing, but I just didn't have the
energy to keep it up for very long.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma;">The progress I had made with the folly bulb never progressed further,
so they ended up having to break my waters Tuesday afternoon and begin the
Pitocin drip. Unfortunately once my
waters were broken she began dropping quickly, but as Sprout dropped she
rotated her head so she was facing my left thigh, and the further she dropped
the more significant the pain became. By
late Tuesday evening the pain was so bad that I couldn't lay on my side with
out excruciating sharp pains. After a
few hours of trying everything under the sun to manage the pain without any
relief, the urge to push became incredibly strong. I had been laboring for nearly 36 hours, but
my cervix was stagnating around 6 - 7cm, so my <st1:place w:st="on">OB</st1:place>,
Doula, and nurse were all telling me not to push. Sprout, on the other hand, had other ideas
and the more I tried not to push the worse the pain became! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;">At this point the </span><st1:place style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';" w:st="on">OB</st1:place><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"> began making
noises about me possibly needing a c-section due to Sprout's head presentation,
my exhaustion and the lack of progression - I was terribly upset!! I really wanted to have Sprout as naturally
as possible with a vaginal birth, but my body didn't seem to want to
cooperate. The urge to push had become
completely uncontrollable and my emotions erupted! I knew I wasn't dialed enough (according to
my </span><st1:place style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';" w:st="on">OB</st1:place><span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;"> and nurse), but my body and Sprout were
saying, “<i><b>PUSH</b></i>!” Each time I pushed a little
I mentally broke down more and more because I started feeling like I was, once
again, failing my babies! My body wasn't cooperating properly and I was risking my second daughter by allowing my body
to push when I knew I shouldn't!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma;">Luckily we had an incredible birth team by our side! Sprout’s team consisted of two Baby Loss
Mommas; our awesome Doula and a wonderful supporter who leads our Prenatal Loss
Support Group with a background as a Labor & Delivery nurse for 25+ years,
as well as a great nurse who also took care of me the night before and after
Stella's birth. These women helped me
through my entire labor, comforting, listening, supporting, encouraging me and
helping me ask the important questions so I could feel in control and know
everything that could be done was being done.
With out them during those extremely difficult hours with the OB talking
about c-sections, the physical and emotional pain overwhelming me and the lack
of progress I think I would have regretfully thrown in the towel and allowed
the OB to do what ever she felt best. We
feel truly blessed to have had such a fantastic team help safely bring Izabella
in to the World! <o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma;">With all the information available to us we finally decided to go with
an epidural (<i>something I thought I would never do!</i>) around 10:30 pm on April 17<sup>th</sup>,
which was Stella’s original due date back in 2010. It brought immediate relief and the plan was
for me to relax and rest for about an hour and see what kind of changes had
been made before continuing laboring. I
wasn't looking for a way out of the pain, just needed a break, both emotionally
and physically. As soon as the epidural
was on board my <st1:place w:st="on">OB</st1:place> checked me and suddenly I
had dilated all the way to a 10 and was ready to begin pushing! She asked if I wanted to go a head and rest like
previously planned and I responded, "<i><b>No way! I'd like for this baby to be born
today!</b></i>" The <st1:place w:st="on">OB</st1:place>
left the room to get ready and said she would be back in 15 minutes so we could
begin, but while she was gone my BP dropped dangerously and that along with the
contractions was making Sprout's heart rate jump. I'm still kind of unclear, and so is my
husband, exactly what all took place during this time, but he told me
afterwards he seriously thought I might die and was worried about our little
girl, too! The Anesthesiologist came
back and began rapidly working with my nurse.
We later learned she gave me a dose of epinephrine to increasing my BP
and heart rate, but that also negatively affected Sprout so there was some
tension going on and a lot of intense monitoring. My <st1:place w:st="on">OB</st1:place> came
back in to learn of this situation and expressed her desire to go ahead and
deliver as quickly as possible and then address my BP issues once my baby was
safe, but the Anesthesiologist wasn't willing to risk my condition by
postponing my treatment. We spent
another 45 minutes with them tracking my BP and Izabella's heart rate before
they felt I was in the clear and we could begin pushing. Once I finally was cleared to begin pushing
it really didn't seem like it took too terribly long for Izabella to be
delivered and her placed directly on my chest for the much anticipated kangaroo
time! After her nuzzling around my
chest, being wiped down and her cord stopped pulsing Trey got to cut the cord
and she began nursing like a little champ!
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "Comic Sans MS"; mso-bidi-font-family: Tahoma;">We came home from the hospital on a Friday evening and began to learn
more about each other and get on a schedule.
Luckily my Mom spent the weekend at our house and took care of laundry,
making us food and allowed us to nap in between feedings. After a few sleepless nights Izabella started
adjusting and we learned a few tricks to help her sleep better. Thankfully this pattern has continued and wasn't
just some fluke - Momma loves her sleep!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;">The love, joy and happiness Izabella has brought back to our lives is
greater than words could possibly describe!
After loosing Stella I never thought I would be able to laugh or smile
again with out it being faked, but Iza keeps me smiling and laughing like I couldn't have imagined. While Stella
will <i><b>always</b></i> be our first born and will be loved and missed forever, her baby
sister has patched and stitched my shattered heart. Izabella is a true blessing in our lives and
a gift from the brightest stars above!<o:p></o:p></span><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: Comic Sans MS;">"'Rainbow Babies' is the understanding that the beauty of a rainbow does not negate the ravages of the storm. When a rainbow appears, it doesn’t mean the storm never happened or that the family is not still dealing with its aftermath. What it means is that something beautiful and full of light has appeared in the midst of the darkness and clouds. Storm clouds may still hover but the rainbow provides a counterbalance of color, energy and hope." ~ </span><span style="font-family: 'Comic Sans MS';">Anonymous</span></blockquote>
<br />
</div>
Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-44407507379704450762012-07-15T19:30:00.000-04:002012-07-15T19:30:54.905-04:00Udder Complications...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Just when I thought Iza and I were getting the hang of
breastfeeding along comes a set back.<span>
</span>And, in my typical fashion, it couldn’t just be a small bump in the
road!<span> </span>No, we are talking about a massive
sinkhole we’re still trying to climb our way out of!</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">After Iza had her two month vaccines she became incredibly
sleepy, so she wasn’t eating very well.<span>
</span>Each time she would wake up she was cranky, so I would try to feed her
only to have her fall in to a deep sleep on the breast within the first
minutes.<span> </span>I continued trying to get her
to eat each time she would wake, but wasn’t having much luck and as a result I
realized later that evening I was developing a clogged milk duct.<span> </span>I began pumping as soon as I realized the
problem and was working to prevent it from moving forward to mastitis as best
as I could, but the clog became worse with in the next 12 hours.<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">My right breast slowly turned hard as a rock in one large
area and became red.<span> </span>The telltale signs
of the beast called mastitis.<span> </span>But I
didn’t have a fever and still felt fairly well considering the pain in my
breast that felt like it weighed 20 pounds.<span>
</span>After a couple of days trying to work the clog out with warm compresses,
massaging, acupuncture, pumping and frequent feedings (as in every 2 hours whenever
possible) it still hadn’t bugged, so I went to see my OB.<span> </span>She took one look at it, felt the warmth
radiating out from the lump and told me that it was bound to turn in to
mastitis soon and once I got a fever I would feel like I had been run over by a
truck, so she prescribed me a round of strong antibiotics to go ahead and start
now so I could avoid that awful feeling and to continue all the things I had
been doing to work the dried milk clog out.<span>
</span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Well the idea of taking antibiotics proactively before a
fever set in just didn’t seem jive with me.<span>
</span>Especially when I considered how poorly my body reacts to them and the
concerns I had over possibly developing yeast and giving Iza thrush and how her
little belly would fair with the drugs.<span>
</span>So we filled the script to have them on hand, but still felt that with
persistence I might be able to work the clog out before my breast became
infected.<span> </span>WRONG!!<span> </span>After a week and a half since all the trouble
began I spiked a fever of 100.4*, suffered cold chills, my head began feeling
cloudy and I couldn’t think straight, so I began taking the pills as quickly as
I could fill my glass of water.<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Unfortunately over the course of the following week on
antibiotics, along with all the other measures I was taking to move the milk
out of my system, nothing improved.<span> </span>In
fact at times my breast seemed harder, tenderer and I could see visible
bruising.<span> </span><span> </span>My breast had gotten so firm that the shape
became distorted and nearly two weeks in to the ordeal Iza decided the breast
wasn’t fit to nurse off of any more.<span> </span>I
just wanted to cry!<span> </span>Scratch that, I
*DID* cry!!<span> </span>I desperately reached out to
the Lactation Consultants for help.<span> </span>We
did a feeding and weight to see how much milk Iza was able to consume from each
breast during a typical feeding.<span> </span>It
turned out there was so much internal swelling the milk wasn’t able to escape
and poor little Iza wasn’t able to get the food she needed.<span> </span>Our baby girl had lost almost a pound in the
two weeks I was battling against this massive clog!<span> </span>We had to begin supplementing each feeding
with an additional 2 oz of previously pumped breast milk.<span> </span>They assured me I was doing all the right
things to resolve the clog and mastitis, but also encouraged me to contact my OB for a follow up since after nearly a week of
antibiotics I hadn’t improved and I might have an abscess.<span> </span>I quickly became depressed feeling like I had
once again failed my daughters and my body was failing me when all I wanted to
do was provide Iza with the proper nutrition she needed.<span> </span>A feeling all too familiar as a Baby Loss
Momma and one I hoped to never experience again once my Rainbow was born
safely.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">A couple of days later I spoke with my OB’s nurse and
explained all of my concerns and that I felt like after nearly three weeks of
treatment the lump should have resolved. She called back after she spoke with
my OB and had scheduled me for an ultrasound
the following morning.<span> </span>Low and behold I
had an abscess the size of a large grapefruit!<span>
</span>After having the ultrasound I had to wait for the Dr. to review the
images before I could leave.<span> </span>She came in
after the procedure and asked me a couple of questions while having the tech
check a couple of additional things to get a better idea of the size and then
went to call my OB while I waited.<span> </span>The Dr. came back with instructions from my OB to come to her office immediately for us to discuss a
plan. Since we had Iza with us we needed to change and feed her before heading
to the office, but as we were unloading my OB's
nurse met us out at the car and told us we were to go to the surgical center
down the street. She didn't know what the plan was, but knew they were waiting
for me.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">I arrived (while Trey stayed outside trying to soothe a
restless Iza) only to discover I'm in the wrong place and should be at the
other surgical center next door (!!??). I filled out tons of paperwork and was then
told that the Dr. I was going to see is finishing up for the day, so I would
now be seeing a different Dr., but she was still tied up in surgery at the hospital
and wasn't expected back until 1:45 - did I want to wait, leave and come back
or reschedule? I asked the receptionist if she knew what was going to happen
today and I was assured it was most likely going to be a consult only and if
any procedure was to be done it would be scheduled for a later date. We went to
lunch and called Trey's parents to see if they were back home and available to
watch Iza while we went back to my appointment. Thank God they were able to
take care of her for a few hours and thankfully I had been prepared with
bottles of pumped breast milk to leave with them! Once we got back we had to
wait an hour to see the Dr. <span> </span>The nurse
took us to an exam room and had me change in to one of those glamorous paper
shirts while we waited for the Dr. to come in, but the nurse quickly reappeared
and moved us to the procedure room.<span> </span>At
this point panic and anxiety began to set in my bones!<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">The Dr. didn't even look at the files the imaging place sent
with us, but had me hop on the table and she began slicing, dicing and draining
me! It honestly felt like she was working on me for at least an hour.<span> </span>She said she was cutting close to the areola
and was trying to minimize scarring, so I told her I wasn’t as concerned about
scarring as I was about my ability to continue breastfeeding, or at least
pumping.<span> </span>The pocket of infection was so
large she had to expand the cut, widen the incision and go deeper to allow it
all to drain out. By the time she was finished cutting my wound ended up being
about two inches long and nearly three inches deep!<span> </span>The gunk coming out of me was so nasty Trey
started to get sick to his stomach and weak in the knees!<span> </span>The incision is left open to drain and heal
from the inside out, which will take about 2 - 3 weeks.<span> </span>He's been cleaning and packing my wound with
gauze several times a day and should taper down as the infection shrinks and it
begins to heal. She changed my antibiotic to augmentin, put me on oxycodone and
told me there is the chance it might reoccur.<span>
</span>If that happens I'm to call her immediately and she'll admit me to the
hospital for IV antibiotics and take me to the operating room for a more
extensive draining.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">The abscess was very large, deep and very nasty pocket of
infection!!<span> </span>We've changed the wound
dressing several times now and have spend last weekend desperately trying to
figure out how to pump the breast, so I can keep my milk supply and empty the breast
so the mastitis doesn't spread and cause more problems and pain.<span> </span>The wound is so close to the areola that I
can't get a tight seal with the breast pump and if I try to hand express it
feels like I'm pushing stuff out of the wound.<span>
</span>Not pleasant!<span> </span>This has caused me
a TON of anxiety, stress, depression and many, many tears of worry and
failure.<span> </span>Luckily Trey has been great
about pressing the Lactation Consultants to help come up with a solution and
they were able to find a smaller sized pump flange that seems to be
helping.<span> </span>The only problem now is that
each time I pump the wound is also being compressed causing it to open and
close and all the fluid is leaking out of the wound and all over me.<span> </span>Gross!<span>
</span>Trust me, I know!<span> </span>The wound
continues to fill up with milk and make an awful mess as I soak through one
bandage after another, but hopefully we've been able to catch it in time so my
breast won't dry up!<span> </span>It’s been a horrible
freakin' ordeal!!!<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">We’ve since gone to one of my follow ups with the surgeon to
check on my healing and learned that while the wound looked good there was an
additional complication and appeared to be another lump down low.<span> </span>I had thought it was in a place she had
previously checked with a needle aspiration and decided it was a small abscess
that would dry up with the antibiotic, so I hadn’t been overly worried.<span> </span>However once she began looking at it she said
the area she had been inspecting previously was more to the side of my breast
and this was something different, so she wanted to take three biopsy samples to
be safe.<span> </span>I couldn’t help but feel like
life was kicking me in the face!<span> </span>Or, in
this case, kicking me in the breast!<span> </span>Even
though she numbed the area it hurt like a bitch all the way across the back of
my breast and to the wound on the other side.<span>
</span>I even experienced nerve tingling in my nipple an hour later and that
really had me freaked out!<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">So in the time we’ve waited for the biopsy results to come
back we’ve continued to care for the wound and sought more help from the
Lactation Consultants (we’ve become regulars at the WNC Breastfeeding
Center).<span> </span>For now they have me working on building up
my milk supply in the left breast by feeding and pumping as much as possible
during the day and maintaining a supply on the right by pumping a few times
daily.<span> </span>We can’t do much else at this
point because it would be disastrous to increase the supply to both breasts
since my right one will continue to be very limited in its use until it’s
healed completely.<span> </span>Once it’s healed and
Iza is able to return to the breast I’ll go back to have them help me build up
my supply on the right as much as possible.<span>
</span>Unfortunately, as much as it pains me, I now realize this may never have
the flow it had before and after all this pain and anguish I may still be
limited to feeding solely off the left.<span> </span>At
the rate we are supplementing each feeding we are quickly running out of our
stock piled milk supply and it’s breaking my heart! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Yesterday I finally received the biopsy results and learned
the smaller lump is a benign Lactating Adenoma (<a href="http://www.breast-cancer.ca/type/lactating-adenoma.htm">http://www.breast-cancer.ca/type/lactating-adenoma.htm</a>).<span> </span>Over time it should shrink up or at
the very least not increase in size and I was told that it doesn’t increase my
chances of developing breast cancer.<span>
</span>That is a huge relief!<span> </span>I guess you
could say it’s the silver lining in an otherwise cloudy situation.<span> </span>I’ll continue my weekly check ups with the
surgeon until the abscess wound is healed completely and I will continue doing
everything with in my power to continue breastfeeding my sweet little Rainbow
for as long as humanly possible.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Thankfully my husband has been a wonderful supporter during
this entire fiasco!<span> </span>With out his help,
both with keeping my wound properly dressed and figuring out how to adapt the
breast pump to work around my wound, I would have never lasted this long and
still be stuck at the bottom of the sinkhole.<span>
</span>Trey also lent his artistic abilities and sketched my boobie, so I could
share the extent of the damage and how traumatic this ordeal has been.<span> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6YmWploFOJPhD8vu4W6XRlb-bByIgfMLPry6D2P2x_-tQ5jYroJHXci43HEo8Qi4rNOdfNZ6KEL5lsOuUahpAPptIc3-qe_oydjlUFxHaAx6zQG5CC-vy97ifnz-q14xqncazeu9P_4/s1600/breast+red.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEio6YmWploFOJPhD8vu4W6XRlb-bByIgfMLPry6D2P2x_-tQ5jYroJHXci43HEo8Qi4rNOdfNZ6KEL5lsOuUahpAPptIc3-qe_oydjlUFxHaAx6zQG5CC-vy97ifnz-q14xqncazeu9P_4/s320/breast+red.jpg" width="305" /></a></span></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;">Abscess incision and small biopsy entry point</span></td></tr>
</tbody></table>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-size: small;">
</span><div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: small;">Please send us tons of milky wishes for the coming
week!<span> </span>And if you’ve happened to suffer a
breast abscess in the past I would be very interested in hearing how you were
able to manage breast feeding and finally resolving the abscess, so please feel
free to speak up. </span></div>
Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-8941144338812675162012-07-09T23:35:00.001-04:002012-07-09T23:35:41.842-04:00Woeful Negligence...I admit it! I've been extremely negligent in keeping this blog updated on all the happenings. I'm not proud of this, but I do feel as though I've had some pretty good excuses. Life with our precious Rainbow has been so fulfilling, exhausting, challenging and sweet that I never seem to be able to find the time to hear myself think any more, let alone write those thoughts down. I keep saying, "We'll get in to a smooth routine and I'll be able to pick my blog back up", but those days haven't arrived yet. In fact, I seem to be finding myself with new challenges each week, but they're all worth it when I see my girls sweet smile. <br />
<br />
So I ask a favor of all of those who may actually read the words I write ~ Please bear with me! My goal is to pick back up with my writings, both current as well as fill in some of the blanks over the last few months. Lots of wonderful things have happened and I'd love to share them with you all! <br />
<br />
Until next time,<br />
<i>Shelby</i>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-71380581869314533452012-05-15T13:19:00.001-04:002012-05-15T13:19:50.230-04:00Mother’s Day Flop…<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<br />
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;"></span> <div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Another Mother’s Day has
passed leaving nothing but tears, pain, bitterness and disappointment
behind.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I, like many others, would have
thought this Mother’s Day would have been extra special and full of new
memories shared with my darling daughter, Izabella, but sadly that isn’t what
happened.</span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Last year was my first
Mother’s Day, though my first born daughter, Stella, was no longer with
us.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>It was an extremely painful day, not
only because she wasn’t in my arms, but because no one recognized me as a
Mother or tried to make the day special in any way.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After I had a complete melt down and spent
most of the afternoon crying in bed my husband decided maybe he should do
something for me after all, so the next day he wrote me several Mother’s Day
notes and bought me a beautiful pair of dragonfly earnings from our daughter,
Stella.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>While it was nice to receive
some recognition he missed the whole point and that everything losses some of
the meaning when I have to explain and beg for the right to be called and
celebrated as a Mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Well even though I’m truly
blessed to be holding my precious Izabella in my arms this year, things weren’t
any different.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>No Mother’s Day plans, no
gift, no recognition!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Let me say that
it’s NOT about the gifts, it’s about being seen and treated as a Mother!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I would have loved to receive a gift straight
from the heart, something to memorialize this extra special moment in time with
Izabella, a special photo or her footprints with a loving message and
date.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But no, I’ve got nothing to look
back at fondly and smile when I think of my first Mother’s Day with
Izabella.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">In fact, this year the only
message my husband took the time to write was posted to my Facebook wall.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Nothing long lasting and memorable there!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Of course he only wrote that after I told him
how hurt one of my Baby Loss Momma friends who also recently had her Rainbow
was to be receiving messages from family and friends wishing them a “Happy <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">First</i><i> </i>Mother’s Day”.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Totally dismissing that she was already a
Mother!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I, like most Baby Loss Mommas,
completely understood this kind of hurt because it’s something we’re faced with
all the time.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>So I mentioned this to my
husband because it’s a pain I share and I guess he then felt a little
motivation to write me a public Happy Mother’s Day wish.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But really I didn’t need his words, I needed
and was longing for his action!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>To
recognize me as a Mother!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>By not doing
so the message I’ve received is that, once again, he doesn’t view me as a
Mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>He doesn’t see me as the Mother
to Stella, and even now that we are both caring for Izabella day in and day
out, he doesn’t consider me to be her Mother.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>I guess that means I’m doing a pretty shitty job at this Motherhood
gig?<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Needless to say it leaves me full
of hurt and pain!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">*** Disclaimer ~ Yes, I know
I should just count my blessings to have Izabella in my arms rather than being
faced with another child held only in my heart.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>And trust me, I feel <i style="mso-bidi-font-style: normal;">very blessed</i>!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I know there are so many women, Mother’s in their
own rights, who have not had the same good fortune as we have to welcome a
Rainbow Baby in to their lives and so many who continue to struggle with
infertility issues.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I don’t wish to
cause any of them pain by appearing ungrateful for the greatest gift I have
ever received, Izabella!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I just wish to
make long lasting memories with my daughter since I know first hand how
precious her life is and that documenting these memories is the only way to
hold on to them forever.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Oh, and I should also share that
my husband decided to make me a batch of gluten free cherry chocolate chip
cookies as a belated Mother’s Day gift!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;">
</span>Not exactly what I had in mind, but I’ll take it! </span></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzSHkJexSJX8oavXP-x-I8LtjlWMgnQsBZWP5Jw9xmEJHr-reDvy3gj8OQDE7_a2hR_4QxjIbQKI7OeItF24Lo9voEBhUlYzEBW4m15XFv03SQaF3F-bWyqPYht6L-ICcVneKZfjVFKY/s1600/Izabella+stopping+to+smell+the+irises.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDzSHkJexSJX8oavXP-x-I8LtjlWMgnQsBZWP5Jw9xmEJHr-reDvy3gj8OQDE7_a2hR_4QxjIbQKI7OeItF24Lo9voEBhUlYzEBW4m15XFv03SQaF3F-bWyqPYht6L-ICcVneKZfjVFKY/s320/Izabella+stopping+to+smell+the+irises.JPG" width="320" /></a></div>
<div class="MsoNormal">
<br /></div>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-12215124821469574582012-03-29T12:45:00.000-04:002012-03-29T12:45:48.546-04:00Remembering the best damn puppy mill survivor ever...Sadly a month has passed since we had to say good-bye to our beloved furry man. As anyone who has lost a beloved, whether it be their baby or their special pet, knows it's a very difficult, painful and lonely road to travel. For me it has once again brought forward all the feelings of grief experienced with the loss of Stella, so instead of grieving the loss of Smeags, who I know in the end was very fortunate, I'm stuck experiencing the emotions of loosing my daughter as well. I suspect this is how my emotional heart will respond to all future losses, so I better figure out a way to navigate this new treacherous path!<br />
<br />
I would like to share my loving tribute to the one, and the only, Smeagol with you all... <br />
<br />
<table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZH2so6fRpzv299PB5mGNEOusMKmu2ZLlwkud7TzOjocOcYfdLf8uSsGUGCTPNap9KCiha8Lo7QW219hANRq4RGMt3kbQGeTHjpUFmSnbc6u7hV6wKzFOpQxQyPP_XVxVeKa9O7yn_PA/s1600/October+%2705intake+-+FBRN+Saved.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="247" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjoZH2so6fRpzv299PB5mGNEOusMKmu2ZLlwkud7TzOjocOcYfdLf8uSsGUGCTPNap9KCiha8Lo7QW219hANRq4RGMt3kbQGeTHjpUFmSnbc6u7hV6wKzFOpQxQyPP_XVxVeKa9O7yn_PA/s320/October+%2705intake+-+FBRN+Saved.jpg" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Smeags rescued September 2005</td></tr>
</tbody></table><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
Who could have ever imagined the impact one French Bulldog, rescued from a nasty rabbit hutch in the far back of a North Carolina puppy mill, could have on our lives? Not I! Smeagol came in to our lives silently, sick, weak and reclusive. He was mostly bald with elephant skin sagging from his legs from his chronic demodectic mange, his eyes goopy and scared from years of untreated corneal ulcers, broken and worn stubs in place of teeth, toenails growing in to his chubby little paw pads, a bad case of heart worms, collapsed wrists and a very painful looking swayback. He looked so horribly disfigured and frightening his original foster Mom named him Smeagol, since he looked like Gollum from the Lord of the Rings. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDtf9tOhiwtdTpzJVOMKnrPmgR0SP8xpn5MeJ-4duB3GY8pHr_pCLjaPx8ytYcXLuHgG3LhSsyK1A1VI530KYp9znl-HpkbOWkigzdRZCwWKsakUkooEQV1SIk0Phmf5W2rITYwlzeRCE/s1600/King+of+the+World.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhDtf9tOhiwtdTpzJVOMKnrPmgR0SP8xpn5MeJ-4duB3GY8pHr_pCLjaPx8ytYcXLuHgG3LhSsyK1A1VI530KYp9znl-HpkbOWkigzdRZCwWKsakUkooEQV1SIk0Phmf5W2rITYwlzeRCE/s320/King+of+the+World.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="MsoNormal">We nursed Smeags back to health, and as he recovered more and more of his unique and charming personality began to reveal itself. Smeags found his voice and wasn’t about to be silenced ever again in his life! Once he began to bond with us, he realized he no longer liked to be left alone, and would caterwaul if he couldn’t find one of us. If we didn’t come back quickly enough, he would stomp his little legs and release a protest pee in the floor somewhere (his unique form of pay back). He learned the joys of wallering on his back, whether it be in a dog bed, human bed or in the grass.<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fdyVT5zUhVnERmbxJHECYfJsHYPLD2ByqJs31nWu_OJDVUb1PU88sd-F5GsktCGekO73jQsQJB2NfczlzWDvUMusWOSUuMb6U8OXCrbAZvMl2JQpFpHPvo1YjFpGtFXeYyh_FBC6EDI/s1600/Grassisgood.4.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg3fdyVT5zUhVnERmbxJHECYfJsHYPLD2ByqJs31nWu_OJDVUb1PU88sd-F5GsktCGekO73jQsQJB2NfczlzWDvUMusWOSUuMb6U8OXCrbAZvMl2JQpFpHPvo1YjFpGtFXeYyh_FBC6EDI/s1600/Grassisgood.4.jpg" /></a></div><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9RL5qGbV81wZQvbM9JGeDCm1PUroOxvIi6J1Ke6m5NVMA-M46TpL3OudVX0jao4UgRrqqjJZyNtLU6qMkHb1aNQ-BoEYoUJo0myIUgLvxOBPuwXvXCqUjHj8dgbFsr3YvcqUf-w3qGA/s1600/HappySmeagol.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="200" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjC9RL5qGbV81wZQvbM9JGeDCm1PUroOxvIi6J1Ke6m5NVMA-M46TpL3OudVX0jao4UgRrqqjJZyNtLU6qMkHb1aNQ-BoEYoUJo0myIUgLvxOBPuwXvXCqUjHj8dgbFsr3YvcqUf-w3qGA/s200/HappySmeagol.jpg" width="150" /></a>He never met a sunbeam that didn’t have his name written all over it and was well versed at seeking them out through out the day. He always enjoyed sleeping in a comfy bed, but none compared to the luxurious and peaceful sleep he had while riding in the snoozy seat. Smeags was the most laid back and easy going dog you could imagine (until it was meal time). He kept us on our toes, made us smile daily and had us all wrapped around his fat little paws.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvzKFCIuvdB5dfbifNUH0_qwbH2bgmR2MLSwXKP63yGVprvN4u3bhozjfTDNQHz-Bu5seuKDrFYVO4FrsDCEJM_mNKOK5Hm-TgSvpaCDLWE4iY3O8kAvJ07Po8S8XVCvkx-iPMAf5xHw/s1600/Smeags+Bonapart+-+no+hat.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="180" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKvzKFCIuvdB5dfbifNUH0_qwbH2bgmR2MLSwXKP63yGVprvN4u3bhozjfTDNQHz-Bu5seuKDrFYVO4FrsDCEJM_mNKOK5Hm-TgSvpaCDLWE4iY3O8kAvJ07Po8S8XVCvkx-iPMAf5xHw/s320/Smeags+Bonapart+-+no+hat.JPG" width="320" /></a>Smeagol was diagnosed with a brain tumor in November of 2010, but luckily his medication allowed him to hold steady. During that time he became mostly deaf and nearly blind, but he was still quite a character. He gave us a few scares where his back legs would go weak and he would suddenly develop a green snotty nose, but with a little medication and a couple of days, he would bounce back like we had imagined the whole episode. He still enjoyed all the important activities in life: special laser treatments, his favorite foods, car rides, wallering and belly rubs. </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0UiliMX4oPqVu8CLt-QGSl7qc7HOo2x-KbTCvL0eh3Im9RYFyCklUaUM430CcWIl0XTCZmvOnJcrW3WOpA_-5Q5gO_diaz6Dv9Abyi3EUGWpqZ1JXhx5ZPTh7QsuCT70jM4c2LYm2bc/s1600/SmeagsJoyRide-cropped.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhr0UiliMX4oPqVu8CLt-QGSl7qc7HOo2x-KbTCvL0eh3Im9RYFyCklUaUM430CcWIl0XTCZmvOnJcrW3WOpA_-5Q5gO_diaz6Dv9Abyi3EUGWpqZ1JXhx5ZPTh7QsuCT70jM4c2LYm2bc/s320/SmeagsJoyRide-cropped.JPG" width="265" /></a></div>On Tuesday, February 28th, our precious Smeagol took a drastic turn for the worse. His body just seemed to give out on him from the night before. He could no longer stand, much less walk. He had no desire to eat (not even cheese or banana) or drink and only wanted to sleep. We took him to the vet’s office, where he was loved by everyone, and Dr. Shearer felt his nervous system was shutting down and he was giving us a clear indication that it was his time to go. We held and hugged him tightly while we cried. He wasn’t in any pain, and loved the attention, but he just wanted to sleep forever. So we kissed Smeags good-bye and sent him on his peaceful journey to the Rainbow Bridge. <a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSlT0qFx7RHZOk4Hfj7Gvt8dPCcSzUXBH0pUy2FHCCHuAAmZ-P5Z3UN_N7w3uQfgo-PFaj1lZzl4vsnkkJJAsEnx26AddyXriyStWcS15QzuvD3rrgyZtJLXFaPT5zgJ8MwE-OWLVHno/s1600/Smeagie+Weegie+Woo+2010.JPG" style="clear: right; float: right; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjhSlT0qFx7RHZOk4Hfj7Gvt8dPCcSzUXBH0pUy2FHCCHuAAmZ-P5Z3UN_N7w3uQfgo-PFaj1lZzl4vsnkkJJAsEnx26AddyXriyStWcS15QzuvD3rrgyZtJLXFaPT5zgJ8MwE-OWLVHno/s320/Smeagie+Weegie+Woo+2010.JPG" width="320" /></a></div><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSPDkX22widYhmSxJRmZfwshMMBLAWLUQ94TqOwCxXehrHT3R_CDPv2IGV_pjEpwH01utsUjCoenT8EcEpaaJlVBRFWgDMxo93vzQYrQ7KF_1evrbPVzh5CaktYQavvzAZ5Sc4xUcULY/s1600/Smeags+Happy+New+Year+2008.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"></a></div><div class="MsoNormal"><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: left;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSPDkX22widYhmSxJRmZfwshMMBLAWLUQ94TqOwCxXehrHT3R_CDPv2IGV_pjEpwH01utsUjCoenT8EcEpaaJlVBRFWgDMxo93vzQYrQ7KF_1evrbPVzh5CaktYQavvzAZ5Sc4xUcULY/s1600/Smeags+Happy+New+Year+2008.JPG" style="clear: left; float: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="240" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjYSPDkX22widYhmSxJRmZfwshMMBLAWLUQ94TqOwCxXehrHT3R_CDPv2IGV_pjEpwH01utsUjCoenT8EcEpaaJlVBRFWgDMxo93vzQYrQ7KF_1evrbPVzh5CaktYQavvzAZ5Sc4xUcULY/s320/Smeags+Happy+New+Year+2008.JPG" width="320" /></a>Smeagol’s story has touched the hearts of many from around the World. He was often considered an unofficial mascot of the fight against puppy mills in the French Bulldog community as well as for the French Bulldog Rescue Network. Though he will never be forgotten, and will always be loved, his larger than life presence will be sorely missed by everyone who knew him!<br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Rest in peace, SmeagUms!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You were truly one of a kind! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">Love always,</div><div class="MsoNormal">Maw, Paw, Starr, Willow and QBert</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-69766978048308778982012-03-09T00:40:00.000-05:002012-03-09T00:40:52.032-05:00The loss of a family member<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<h3><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Once again our family has been touched by death.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I guess I should feel relieved and be grateful that we’ve been able to keep all our family members for the last 13+ months.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>After all I know some people who are faced with tragedy after tragedy and feel as though their lives are damned.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></h3><h3><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-weight: normal;"><span> </span></span></h3><h3><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">My husband’s Grandmother passed away on February 21<sup>st</sup> after a sudden series of events leading to her falling and breaking her hip.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Her body needed to be stabilized before they could safely perform surgery to repair the break, but he body was never fully able to recover from the surgery.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>She previously had always enjoyed good health and her independence, but that changed shortly after her 92<sup>nd</sup> birthday<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Still, Louise, managed to pack a whole lot of life in and continued to do fairly well with her condition until the last year.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span></span></h3><h3><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-weight: normal;"><span> </span></span></h3><h3><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Louise’s death caught me off guard.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Not so much because she passed away, but more by how it affected me personally.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve known Louise since sometime around 1991, but got to know her better during 1992 when my then boyfriend, his family and I traveled together that Summer.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Louise and I were roommates on two trips that year, so we quickly got to know each other.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Being faced with Louise’s death brought forward all the painful feelings I had experienced deep in my soul when we lost our daughter, Stella.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Yes, I’ve dealt with Stella’s death and continue to work through this life changing tragedy, but once the raw emotions hit I felt like I was being flooded by a tidal wave of feelings.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>Suddenly it was like I wasn’t just being faced with one death, but a life time of deaths and loss all compounded together!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ve done enough grief work to know that this isn’t an uncommon feeling, or I might have gotten so depressed that I would have felt myself going crazy.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>But understanding why I was having these feelings didn’t really help me cope.</span></h3><h3><span style="font-size: 14pt; font-weight: normal;"> </span></h3><h3><span style="font-size: 14.0pt; font-weight: normal; mso-bidi-font-weight: bold;">Trey spoke during his Grandmother’s service, and if I hadn’t already been feeling the weight of Stella’s passing on my heart, his words brought pain deep in to my soul.<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>I’ll share an excerpt of Trey’s writings below:</span></h3><blockquote class="tr_bq"><h3><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Grandmother’s Eulogy </span></h3><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14.0pt;">Death is a mysterious gift. It brings loved ones together, by separating them from the ones they love. We’ve all been brought together today because of our love for my Grandmother, and all those whose lives she’s touched. Her passing is a gift. Just as her life was a gift. No one wants to think about their own mortality, but we all know we’re not getting out of this thing alive. A death in the family is just another wake up call, reminding us that we only have a short while on this Earth. The amount of time we have here can never be known, and death is nature’s way of reminding us not to squander the time that we have.<br />
<br />
My Grandmother was fortunate. She spent 94 years here, most of which were spent in good health. My wife and I had a daughter, Stella Grace, who was not so fortunate. She was born on my Grandmother’s 92nd birthday, and only lived for an hour and 47 minutes. It’s amazing how many lives were touched by our little girl, despite her short life. One can only wonder how many lives my Grandmother touched in her 94 years. And I can assure you that both will continue to touch lives long after they’re gone. I know that every December 23rd our family will be celebrating the lives of two very special women.<br />
<br />
So, if you’re sad, be sad. But don’t forget to be grateful. Be grateful for this gift of Life we’ve all been given. It’s so precious. I owe my life, at least in part, to my Grandmother. Had it not been for the birth of my Grandmother, my Mother would not be here today. Had it not been for my Mother, I would not be here today. And if I were not here today, my wife would not be carrying, what promises to be the most precious child to ever walk this Earth. Though I may be a bit biased.</span></div></blockquote><table align="center" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tr-caption-container" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto; text-align: center;"><tbody>
<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeScr0DUJWRmaH_EclcXM7m_jorVgsFU2uIJjZIvO5jfgpXOlO8LHanOAmyKXDVsYo7nRX76cZ4iDgeqK7PpEJUhm0xy38KZBzrVvYU0fW8rAyzC6V3_BM8q7Nb8um2CwdcQP0eb6W9Gg/s1600/Carland+Family+Las+Vegas+10-09.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="426" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgeScr0DUJWRmaH_EclcXM7m_jorVgsFU2uIJjZIvO5jfgpXOlO8LHanOAmyKXDVsYo7nRX76cZ4iDgeqK7PpEJUhm0xy38KZBzrVvYU0fW8rAyzC6V3_BM8q7Nb8um2CwdcQP0eb6W9Gg/s640/Carland+Family+Las+Vegas+10-09.JPG" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Las Vegas conference trip with Louise ~ 2009</td></tr>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Rest in peace, Louise!<span style="mso-spacerun: yes;"> </span>You’ve touched the lives of many people! Hope you're winning big at the slot machines in the sky!</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;"><br />
</span></div>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-83896156602623245432012-03-06T00:43:00.001-05:002012-03-06T00:48:14.292-05:00I Survived the Holiday Season!***<i>This entry was written back in January, but due to the chaos of constant pregnancy monitoring and daily life got in the way of posting this blog previously*** </i><br />
<span style="font-size: 14pt;"></span><br />
<div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Since mid November of 2010 I’ve been dreading this holiday season. That’s a whole lotta time to anticipate and fear the worst! Since we learned about Stella’s declining health just before Thanksgiving in 2010 the holiday season started off on a very sad and depressing note and as we progressed closer to Christmas we were faced with nothing but bad news. There was no holiday spirit in our house, no joy, no looking forward to future holidays with our little girl. I was surrounded by a cold, bleak sadness deep to my core. I tried to focus on the positive, that Stella was still with me, and have hope for my daughter’s future. I tired to pretend to be in to Christmas by putting up our tree, but the darkness was too much for me to overcome and the fake holiday spirit weighed down on me even more. My husband finally took over and placed lights on the tree while I sat on the couch watching and choking back tears. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Then, out of no where, I got sick a week before Christmas. Stella’s life was no longer in theoretical danger, it was about to come crashing to an end! I was hospitalized the Monday before Christmas with HELLP syndrome and told Stella was too young and too small to survive and my health was in imminent danger with out her delivery. If you’ve never found yourself in this situation it’s hard to imagine the willingness to die for your child’s survival, but I was assured her chances of her surviving with my rapidly declining health were slim to none and we would likely both be lost. From that moment on there was no Christmas! I spent the week in the hospital desperately praying for a miracle and both proud and tortured by Stella’s will to hold on to my womb with her tiny little being. She held on for nearly 50 hours while the Doctors did everything they could think of to induce her birth. She didn’t want to come out in to the World. She knew it was too early to be born and wanted to stay safely inside my womb, but my body failed her. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">I was released from the hospital on Christmas Day in the middle of a huge snow storm. The roads were in horrible conditions making the half hour drive a very tense and tedious hour and a half. Once finally safe back home all I wanted to do was camp out on the couch in front of the fireplace with a cup of hot chocolate and cry, but the half decorated Christmas tree was staring back at me as a reminder of the day and we had all been robbed on any sense of normalcy, happiness or joy. After my break down Trey stepped in again and threw a few decorations on the tree, hung our empty stockings from the mantle and moved the boxes of Christmas decorations that had been stacked in the living room laying in waiting. He made a Christmas dinner with the groceries he ran out to get on Christmas Eve when we learned of the impending snow and we tried to take back a little piece of the Christmas we had lost along with Stella. </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">We spent the rest of the week dealing with the funeral home, writing an obituary for our baby, cancelling OB appointments and planned a small memorial service for Stella on New Years Day. All the while I was left wondering how I would ever survive the year, 2011, that lay before me? More importantly, did I even want to? </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Now that we have finally kissed 2011 good-bye and welcomed 2012 I guess it’s safe to say I survived! It was tough in so many ways. Some I hadn’t even anticipated being so difficult. For the most part I think I survived mostly by allowing the currents to take me where ever they chose. I didn’t fight the drowning sensations of having no control, but I also tried not to imagine where the flow was going to take me. Maybe I just didn’t care where I ended up, so I had no vested interest one way or the other? Of course it really wasn’t that simple. We had become involved in twice monthly Perinatal Loss Support Groups as well as deeply involved in our volunteer work with the March of Dimes, so those both gave me a little direction to help steer my course.</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">My blasé attitude was forced to take the back burner in August once we learned I was carrying Stella’s tiny sibling. No longer caring where I may end up or what may happen in my future was no longer an option. After all now I had to consider the future of this growing being inside of me and could no longer just throw in the towel if I didn’t feel like being part of society on any given day. But, you may be surprised to learn just how difficult it is to carry a baby after having to say a final good-bye to a previous baby. Some people seem to think getting pregnant after a loss is such a wonderful blessing that the Mother should be floating around on cloud 9 with a perm grin tattooed to her face. Oh, how I wish it was that simple! </span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">In many ways experiencing a subsequent pregnancy after a loss is like placing yourself in front of a firing squad every day and giving them the power to determine your faith with a coin toss. Will today be the end of this baby’s future? You begin to live every day faced with fear. You can no longer hold that blind optimism that YOUR baby will grow to be perfectly healthy and get to enjoy the future you had planned. Once you’ve had it ripped out from under you once you can never gain it back! Had I fully understood this I may have planned the timing of this pregnancy out a little differently, but then maybe it’s one of those situations where you think you have a firm grasp on how difficult the situation will be only to discovers it’s far more traumatizing than you could have ever imagined?</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: 14pt;">Regardless, being pregnant with Sprout along almost the exact time schedule as with her big sister Stella really made our first holiday season a unique challenge! We grieved for what we had lost. I ached to have Stella with me for her 1<sup>st</sup> Christmas. I wanted to erase the painful memories of the Christmas and New Years Day from the year before. But at the same time I was torn by knowing Sprout was with me and if we got incredibly lucky she would be with us for the next holiday season as we celebrate Stella’s 2<sup>nd</sup> Angelversary. It was a big if and it felt like a shot in the dark, but it was the only joy I could find to hold on to. We’ve been blessed to be able to hold on to Sprout thus far and she’s helped guide me through so that I can say, “I survived the holiday season!”</span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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</div>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-79894597421764269112011-12-27T01:11:00.001-05:002011-12-27T11:15:15.651-05:00Stella’s 1st Birthday & Angelversary…<div class="MsoNormal">Ever notice how some days are harder than others? Yeah, I’ve had that day! In fact, I’ve been feeling that way this entire weekend! Really I guess I should scratch that and say I’ve been having a hard holiday season, since every emotion imaginable has struck since just before Thanksgiving and who knows how long this crazy roller coaster of a ride is gonna last? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">I knew December 23rd was going to be an emotional challenge like few I’ve ever seen being it was Stella’s 1<sup>st</sup> Birthday and Angelversary, but I didn’t accurately anticipate the long lasting affects I would continue to experience through out the Christmas holiday. I was hopeful that by today, Christmas, I wouldn’t feel the struggle so much, but it’s still riding my coat tails trying to bring me down!</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">The whole week began with me feeling shaken and off after a very poor night of sleep. I had fallen right asleep, but woke suddenly just a short while later with the feeling of extreme panic. When I saw 1:30am on my clock I just wanted to sink deeper in to the bed and be swallowed alive! Last year on the Monday evening before Christmas I was admitted to the hospital due to HELLP syndrome while pregnant with Stella. I spent a couple of hours in the labor and delivery triage area while they tried to figure out exactly what was going on, but once they identified the problem they began working on getting me a quiet room, inform the nurses of my case and get me moved upstairs so they could begin my IV with Magnesium Sulfate and then my OB came up to begin the induction process (and trust me, it was a process!). So, by the time my medications were on board and my OB had started the Cytotec it was almost 1:30am, so when I awoke in a panic last Monday night and saw the time I literally found myself flashing back to the hospital room, attached to the IV and terrified about what was laying a head of me and my daughter’s future. Sure, I knew I wasn’t in the hospital, but instead in my own bed, but I saw everything so vividly in front of me like I was living through it all over again! I laid in bed crying and holding my belly until I finally drifted back to sleep. Needless to say I woke up in a foul, sad mood like my precious Stella had just been ripped away from me all over again! <br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sweet Stella Grace December 23, 2010</td></tr>
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The pressure of Stella’s birthday and Angelversary, along with the Christmas holiday, surely didn’t help any as the week progressed. My stress levels and bitchiness felt like they were at an all time high! Although, maybe it was good that I was so busy and preoccupied because it kept me from having a full out melt down, even though I felt it building up inside me? I was angry I was busy with holiday things because all I really wanted to do was plan a meaningful way to honor Stella’s short life and her importance to me! With everyone’s various holiday and work schedules we weren’t able to have many family and friends join us in celebrating Stella, and that alone left me feeling even more sad and depressed. I understand everyone has their own family and schedule to work around, but I couldn’t help feeling that if Stella was still alive and with us for her 1<sup>st</sup> birthday all of these significant people in my life would have made arrangements to celebrate with us. Leaving me, once again, feeling cheated and robbed of an experience that was very important to me! </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal">We went ahead and commemorated Stella’s special day anyway. It was difficult to figure out the best way to celebrate her spirit with out her being with us because nothing seemed appropriate. At the same time I knew I needed it to be a joyous and fun occasion because additional sadness was the last thing I needed and I really don’t feel like Stella wants us to live in sadness. So we decided to do the zany <a href="http://www.lazoomtours.com/">Happy Jollidays LaZoom Tour</a> around Asheville to brighten our spirits and bring a little laughter to the day and prepare us for the Christmas holiday. My brother and a couple we’ve been friends with for many, many years joined my husband and I for the fun outing. It worked, we did smile and laugh, but it still felt like we were missing an important part of any celebration … the guest of honor herself.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XDBxEFKMuiY/TvlXzsLo6RI/AAAAAAAABaU/ugdS37LnfZA/s1600/Trey+%2526+Norn+holding+Sprout+.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="240" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-XDBxEFKMuiY/TvlXzsLo6RI/AAAAAAAABaU/ugdS37LnfZA/s320/Trey+%2526+Norn+holding+Sprout+.JPG" width="320" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Trey and my brother holding Sprout</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sarah and Jason giving Sprout some love</td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal">Our friends had to get back to their family holiday obligations, so we met Trey’s parents out that evening for a late night dinner at Ruth’s Chris. We had an absolutely fantastic meal, which was a real treat, and Trey toasted to our little Stella. But over all I was left feeling a little let down and like I had done a poor job of honoring our girl on her special day. We had gotten a cupcake for Stella, did something fun for her birthday and celebrated with a delicious meal, but the day didn’t truly feel like it was about HER, which was the most important aspect of the day to me personally. Our friends brought 2 stuffed animals over, one for Stella and one for Sprout, but other than that her name wasn’t ever mentioned again unless it was by me or my husband at dinner. They made more of a fuss over Sprout then Stella and that left my heart hurting. I know they all mean well, but December 23<sup>rd</sup> was supposed to be all about Stella, how she touched our lives and will always be loved and cherished.</div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wDOO82FZg0w/TvlaaqNilyI/AAAAAAAABas/IyRkDW4aqnY/s1600/Stella%2527s+Tree+%2526+Cupcake+-+2011.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="clear: left; margin-bottom: 1em; margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="320" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-wDOO82FZg0w/TvlaaqNilyI/AAAAAAAABas/IyRkDW4aqnY/s320/Stella%2527s+Tree+%2526+Cupcake+-+2011.jpg" width="236" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stella's Christmas tree, 1st birthday cupcake and gifts </td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Stuffed animals and a thoughtful card from another Baby Loss Momma friend </td></tr>
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</div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal"></div><div class="MsoNormal">Realistically, I guess nothing would have been perfect unless I could have had sweet Stella on my hip, dressed in a special outfit with a birthday hat, balloons all around and watching her smiling, laughing face as she dug in to a big cupcake with her name written on top! Anything else will always pale in comparison! So the question becomes ~ How will we be able to manage all the birthdays/Angelversaries for the years to come? I’d love to hear from other Baby Loss Mommas and how you’ve coped with these painful milestones? </div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-66049485508616832842011-12-25T14:45:00.000-05:002011-12-25T14:45:49.157-05:00The difference a year makes...<!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:WordDocument> <w:View>Normal</w:View> <w:Zoom>0</w:Zoom> <w:PunctuationKerning/> <w:ValidateAgainstSchemas/> <w:SaveIfXMLInvalid>false</w:SaveIfXMLInvalid> <w:IgnoreMixedContent>false</w:IgnoreMixedContent> <w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText>false</w:AlwaysShowPlaceholderText> <w:Compatibility> <w:BreakWrappedTables/> <w:SnapToGridInCell/> <w:WrapTextWithPunct/> <w:UseAsianBreakRules/> <w:DontGrowAutofit/> </w:Compatibility> <w:BrowserLevel>MicrosoftInternetExplorer4</w:BrowserLevel> </w:WordDocument> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml> <w:LatentStyles DefLockedState="false" LatentStyleCount="156"> </w:LatentStyles> </xml><![endif]--><!--[if gte mso 10]> <style>
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<div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>I mentioned in a previous post how crazy busy we’ve been around here and I’m sure everyone who hears that just rolls their eyes and thinks, “Yeah, like you’re the only one!” Of course I don’t think I’m the only one who has ever found themselves running around frantically trying to catch up at every turn, but I do feel I’ve been given an extra challenge lately that is leaving me a bit stretched to capacity.<span> </span>That’s ok though, I really wouldn’t want it any other way!<span> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>Not only have the days, weeks and months been passing us by, but with each week we’ve come closer to the season I’ve dreaded so much - HOLIDAYS!<span> </span>Our World changed for us last holiday season just before Thanksgiving and I’m still in the process of learning how to cope with this new journey in a very different World.<span> </span>And if that wasn’t physically and emotionally time consuming enough we’ve been keeping a secret and that can be hard work in itself!<span> </span>Sure a few people we are close to knew, but for the most part we had kept everything very quite and were just moving along until the time felt right to share with our extended family, friends, and now anyone who might be reading this blog.<span> </span>I’ll skip to the chase and share the personal message we shared a little over a month ago… </span></span></div><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>On this day, November 18th, of last <span class="il">year</span> we learned the devastating news about Stella's health and her struggle to survive and make it out in to this World. A <span class="il">year</span> has passed and Stella's 1st birthday is now only 5 weeks away on December 23rd. It's been an extremely difficult <span class="il">year</span> full of challenges learning how to navigate the World without my daughter, and as we move closer to this holiday season the anniversary of Stella's birth, day to day life will be very painful.<br />
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Last <span class="il">year</span> we suddenly cancelled our Thanksgiving plans after receiving the news of Stella condition, however this <span class="il">year</span> we have renewed hope and much to be thankful for. For one thing, I didn't pass away with Stella and that is something to be extremely grateful for every day! It has allowed us to continue on and honor Stella's short life and big spirit in any way possible. Now Stella is a big sister in the making! Yes, you read correctly! Trey and I are expecting and have been growing a little "Sprout" for 18 weeks, so we hope to meet our baby around April 20, 2012. Yesterday we had our big targeted ultrasound and learned that Sprout's heart appears healthy and is growing ahead of schedule. Two very different findings from what we learned about Stella just a <span class="il">year</span> ago! Not only did yesterday's ultrasound go very well, but we received results a couple of weeks ago from our Genetic Counselor that Sprout's risk of a chromosomal defect is very, very slim; 1:10,000! And, for all of you who are dying to know ... Sprout is a GIRL!!! </span></span></div></blockquote><br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><span style="font-size: small;"><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-leSY20SONXM/Tvd5oM43qbI/AAAAAAAABaI/iXXwVTtgCh0/s1600/Sprout+Profile+-+11-17-11+-+Picnik.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="247" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-leSY20SONXM/Tvd5oM43qbI/AAAAAAAABaI/iXXwVTtgCh0/s320/Sprout+Profile+-+11-17-11+-+Picnik.jpg" width="320" /></a></span></div><br />
<blockquote class="tr_bq"><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal" style="text-align: justify;"><span style="font-size: small;"><span> We are extremely happy, but I am also very scared of what may be waiting for me down the path. With all this good news at this point we are just trying our best to enjoy and think about a happy and healthy future. This will undoubtedly become more difficult as we move closer to the holidays and we miss sharing what should be Stella's 1st Thanksgiving, birthday party and Christmas. <br />
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I want to be clear with everyone that even though we have a new child growing Stella will always be our first baby and hold a significant place in our hearts! Sprout will not replace the pain we have endured, nor take Stella's place in any way, so please don't assume our hearts are healed or forget her importance in our lives. <br />
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We wish you all a Happy Holiday Season full of love and peace!!<br />
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With love,<br />
Shelby & Trey</span></span></div></blockquote><span style="font-size: small;"> </span><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>You may be wondering why we’ve kept this wonderful news so hush, hush until now?<span> </span>Well, I can tell you there are a number of reasons I could list, but I’ll just be as honest and blunt as possible … I’ve been too scared!<span> </span>I’ve been terrified something awful would happen to this baby, Sprout, as soon as I opened my mouth to share the news.<span> </span>I’ve also been scared I would loose some of the connections I’ve developed over the last year with so many strong, caring Baby Loss Mommas.<span> </span>I’ve worried they would turn their backs on me and kick me out of the one club no one ever wanted to be part of in the first place, yet now I find myself desperately wanting and needing to know that I am still an accepted member.<span> </span>It may sound crazy, but these fellow Mommas have become an important part of my life and I value their opinions, suggestions and the strength needed to get through each day.<span> </span>Hopefully this news won’t turn off any potential readers because, I gotta tell ya, being pregnant again after a loss is probably just as hard as going through the loss in the first place!<span> </span>Sure, it’s a totally different experience, but the emotional roller coaster is practically the same!<span> </span></span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br />
</div><div class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-size: small;"><span>I hope you all can wish Sprout and I well, but as a Baby Loss Momma I can also understand the pain of knowing some one else is pregnant while we will never be able to hold our precious babies we’ve lost ever again.<span> </span>And there in lies the never ending conflict of emotions of a pregnancy after a loss! </span><span> </span></span></div><div class="MsoNormal"><br clear="all" style="mso-special-character: line-break;" /> </div>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-55951008054523973612011-12-21T13:13:00.000-05:002011-12-21T13:13:59.982-05:00Giving BackIn my last blog I mentioned my husband and I helped with and attended the March of Dimes Signature Chefs Gala and Auction at the end of September. Trey and I first got involved with the March of Dimes back in April and set up a last minute team for Stella Grace in the March for Babies. In one weeks time we raised a great deal of money to help prevent premature births, birth defects and infant mortality. Our local walk took place just a few days after Stella’s due date, so it was a very emotional time, but we felt great knowing we were helping to make a difference in some baby’s life and for their parents who would be able to hold and love them for years to come. <br />
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After our success with the March for Babies we decided one of the best ways we could honor Stella’s short life was to become more involved with the March of Dimes, so we reached out to our local division and offered ourselves as volunteers. Shortly after we were approached and asked if we would like to join the local Pisgah Division Board of Directors. Of course we said, “Yes!” and have increased our involvement with the March of Dimes since this past summer. Besides the March for Babies our other big annual fundraiser is the March of Dimes Signature Chefs Auction, which was held this year on September 30th. Since this was the first fundraising event since becoming Board Members we worked to help out in any way we could be contacting restaurants and businesses to donate their goods for our auctions. This was also our first “Gala”, so we were both excited to see how it all came together and be part of something so amazing. The Gala featured 12 local Chefs serving small plates of fantastic foods, three tables of wonderful silent auction baskets, a very moving presentation about the Mach of Dimes mission and one local family’s personal story, an action packed live auction and a closing performance by the Asheville Aerial Arts. I couldn’t hold back my tears during the presentation and my mind stayed on Stella the entire evening. I know she was really there with us for the event! <br />
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The evening was a huge success and I’m so proud to say we were able to be part of it all! Soon the preparations for the 2012 Gala will begin and I hope Trey and I are able to help out even more with this important event. For now, though, our attention is beginning to focus on the 2012 March for Babies and all the awareness and funds we hope to raise again for Team Stella Grace. If you would like to get involved in the <a href="http://www.marchforbabies.org">March for Babies</a> in your area you can look up the event for your area and get started forming a team in honor of your preemie, family member or in memory of a special baby who was lost to prematurity. It’s a wonderful way to give back and fight against prematurity!Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-76582914473306948792011-12-16T15:02:00.000-05:002011-12-16T15:02:23.286-05:00My, how time flies...Geez, I knew I had been slacking on updating my blog but I didn’t realize it’s been nearly 2 ½ months since I wrote last! Of course I knew the end of September was crazy busy and I had been working hard to get through a quick trip to Atlanta for the French Bulldog National Specialty and then back home in time for the March of Dimes Signature Chefs Gala and Auction. Both of these things are very important to me since I volunteer with a French Bulldog rescue, <a href="http://frenchbulldogrescue.org">French Bulldog Rescue Network</a>, and am a Board Member with our local Pisgah Division of the March of Dimes. <br />
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The French Bulldog Rescue Network (FBRN) always set up a fundraising table at this yearly event, have several volunteers travel from far and wide to attend, and there is always a Rescue Parade. We’ve fostered a few dogs with FBRN and we’ve adopted three Frenchies, but I also used to do some major volunteer work with them and came in to contact with a great number of people who will bend over backwards to help get a French Bulldog in to a safe and loving environment, so it’s always nice to see some of the volunteers I’ve met before and meet some news ones face to face who are able to attend. This year was particularly important to me because of our eldest Frenchie, Smeagol, health problems. You see, Smeags is a very special soul who spent most of his life living in a rabbit hutch in a North Carolina puppymill, with scummy water, rarely feed and never received any positive attention or medical treatment. We’ve been blessed to have him in our lives since October 29, 2005 and though it took a little while for him to trust us, he’s learned a very different lifestyle and shows us every day that he is a unique character. <br />
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While I was pregnant with Stella last Fall Smeags health had been concerning us. He had a few spells that made his odd body wobbly, but he always seemed to recovery quickly and look at us like we were crazy for doting on him (just another of Smeags charming attributes). In early November of last year I went o bed nervous about the lab work for the Quad Screening I was scheduled to do in the morning and it took me a while to settle down enough for me to fall a sleep. It didn’t seem like I had been a sleep very long when I suddenly woke to a thrashing noise and hopped out of bed to find Smeags having a Grand Mal seizure. It took a while for the seizure activity to pass and I spent the next five minutes clearing away foam from his mouth to prevent him from choking and then sat trying to calm his confusion. We spent the next hour sitting with him, talking and comforting him until he slowly seemed to come back around to “himself” and the fear in his eyes lessened and we all decided to try to get a couple of hours of sleep before the alarm clock beeped. We took Smeags with us for my lab work and drove him to our vets to be checked out afterwards. My horrible suspicions were confirmed by our vet and Smeags most likely was suffering from a brain tumor. <br />
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Well, that was (now) over a year ago and knowing how limited his time is with the diagnosis of a brain tumor I knew I had to get him to the French Bulldog Nationals so he could make one last Rescue Parade and see all the FBRN volunteers who love him. We first booked our hotel room last October and I thought how fun it was going to be to take Stella and Smeags. I had even come up with a plan for them to both ride in a red wagon together, so they could enjoy all the dogs, people and activity, but things have changed. However, Smeags still enjoyed himself and all the attention he received and everyone seemed very happy to see the old man doing his thing!<br />
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I wondered on our drive down to Atlanta if any of my rescue volunteer friends would say anything about Stella, since most of them had read or heard about our experience, and I wondered how I would handle that. Deep down I knew I would rather them mention Stella rather than dodge the huge whole left in our hearts, but for the most part everyone remained silent. One volunteer friend during a quiet moment took me by the arms and spoke to me about the loss of my precious daughter. I can’t even remember exactly what she said because I was so surprised and then overcome with appreciation and tears, but she said commented along the lines that she was proud of me for talking about our loss and all the information I share with others and that she holds us in her heart. Besides seeing how much love Smeags received at Nationals, hearing someone have the courage and respect to speak to me about Stella made the whole trip worthwhile! My heart was very happy as we drove back home. <br />
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Wow, I guess I’ll have to catch you all up on the March of Dimes Gala next time! Don’t worry, I plan on posting it this weekend and hope not to allow so much time to pass between posts.Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-31255264154245670852011-09-24T12:37:00.000-04:002011-09-24T12:37:44.986-04:00The Loss Never Goes Away…Months have passed, oceans of tears of have been spilled, hugs exchanged, compassionate people have listened and stories have been shared, but there is still an ache left behind that will never go away. When you loss a baby, like I’ve lost my sweet Stella, not only have you lost a part of you, but you’ve lost all the dreams, hopes and future, too. It’s impossible for anyone who hasn’t experienced such a loss to fully understand.<br />
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It’s not the same as loosing Grandpa at 65 years old to a heart attack. Of course loosing anyone you love is painful and difficult, but people will still talk about Grandpa, his memory, his life and all the family and friends he’s left behind. They have photos to flip through to sweeten their memories and good times together to cherish. When someone looses a baby, no matter whether through miscarriage, stillbirth or infant loss those memories are very few and far between. No one wants to talk about the babies who have been lost, but it's sweet music to their Moms ears when someone is willing to remember them by speaking aloud. We have to focus on the time we had them in our lives the longest ~ while they were growing in our bellies! How we shared our pregnancy together, the special songs we made up to sing to them, our conversations together as we fell asleep, our dreams and hopes for their future that we shared with our bellies, the milestones we experienced, the first kicks and their reactions to certain foods. These aren’t memories that our families and friends can share with us. We are completely alone with our special memories to cherish! <br />
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Not only have we lost the chance to hold our babies, but we’ve been robbed the opportunity to create new memories. I’ll never know the color of Stella’s eyes or what makes them sparkle with happiness, what her smile looks like, the sound of her giggle, her favorite color, or if she would have been a Daddy’s girl? I’ll never know if she enjoyed going on walks in the woods, either in a carrier or as a toddler or child? Would she have smiled at the sight of a deer in the woods like I do? I'll never have the joy of baking and decorating a birthday cake for my sweet girl and throwing her a party. I wonder would she have preferred vanilla (like her Dad) or chocolate (like me)? Maybe Stella would have shown us her independent streak and chosen strawberry instead? Would she enjoy family drives on the Parkway to take in the beauty and enjoy a picnic together? I wish I knew the answers, but I’ll never know! The curiosity and wonder will always haunt me! I wish I had the chance to discover each of these things about Stella because they would all fill me with precious, cherished memories of time we had together! Instead I have a few photos, her stamped footprints, her ashes and a broken heart!<br />
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<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkC8khdUoZNdPYBduM1CT_Jb9L5Umg9HHviQ2hLM8zcc66j84Y732ZSjeR7hih563-hOVUgTrFEjpd49S19UecUvbW_32YnuqOXxQ0KuGDOS7MbyewNL41s_uGeIe2J3EQwFcioYoGTE/s1600/Stella%2527s+Altar+-+Framed.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left:1em; margin-right:1em"><img border="0" height="249" width="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhzkC8khdUoZNdPYBduM1CT_Jb9L5Umg9HHviQ2hLM8zcc66j84Y732ZSjeR7hih563-hOVUgTrFEjpd49S19UecUvbW_32YnuqOXxQ0KuGDOS7MbyewNL41s_uGeIe2J3EQwFcioYoGTE/s320/Stella%2527s+Altar+-+Framed.jpg" /></a></div>Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7682581403235366702.post-29845729063401431292011-09-13T16:26:00.000-04:002011-09-13T16:26:22.522-04:00Exposing MyselfIt's a subject many people would rather avoid and if brought up the general population just doesn't know how to respond. I guess that is why I feel the need to talk about it, even if it's here where no one is actually reading. I want people to know ~ I am a Baby Loss Momma! What exactly is a Baby Loss Momma? Well, sadly it's a Mother who had many hopes and dreams for a baby they carried, but were unable to bring home in their arms and fulfill those wishes. You can learn more about my experience by reading Stella's story on <a href="http://facesofloss.com/2011/09/2907.html">Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope</a>.<br />
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I'm very lucky to have found Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope as a resource and confirmation that I am not alone in my grief and suffering! Tragically there are way to many women and families who have been directly touched by the loss of baby or infant! Thanks to Faces, other online groups and perinatal loss support groups I have found myself surrounded by a community of Baby Loss Families. We are given a chance to remember our babies, what it felt like to carry them, our deepest desires for their lives, talk about our experiences with complicated pregnancies or births and share our children with each other. Some of us aren't even able to do this with our families or friends because they truly don't understand, but we are able to find comfort in those who had been strangers until we all found ourselves in the same situations. It's a horrible place to be, but I am very thankful I am not here alone!Shelby ... Stella's Mommahttp://www.blogger.com/profile/00057704319751626484noreply@blogger.com1