Mailing Lists

We all get them - random postcards, catalogs or coupons in the mail when we know we haven't signed up for any such list. Most of the time you glance at them, if it's interesting you may read them or keep the coupon, but they really don't have any affect on your life. Hell, they may even come in handy. (Gotta love those big blue Bed, Bath & Beyond postcards for 20% off! I have like 5 of them sitting on the desk in my office at home right now, just waiting to get spent.

When you have a baby, you get added to a bunch of additional mailing lists. You starts seeing coupons for Huggies and Pampers and samples of Similac and Infamil. Babys R Us sends you their little "catalog" and books of coupons. You get offers for life insurance policies from Gerber and information about college savings plans. Many of these come in handy right after you have the baby - those coupons sure don't got to waste. But when your baby dies, these coupons and samples are a giant slap in the face every time you open the mailbox. Something I bet none of these companies ever think about while they are sending them out.

So what do you do then? Up until recently (more on that in a moment), I've just ignored them all and thrown them directly from the mailbox into the recycling bin. Some people I know have tried to call the various companies and gotten their names taken off the mailing lists. From what I've heard, that is a painful experience because they always want to know why. It's a lot of fun telling customer service workers that you don't want to get their Huggies coupons anymore because your baby is dead. Another bonus of being a BLM (baby loss mom).

So far, because of my technique above, the mailing haven't really done much damage to my psyche. That has changed in the last couple of weeks. Why, you might ask? Because now the mailings are focusing on someone's upcoming birthday and it really, really hurts.

Naya would be 1 next month. Yes, I know that. And apparently, so do the various direct mail campaigns that companies launch. Last week, I received this postcard from our local grocery store.

Yes, it's a nice offer. Hell, if circumstances were different, I might actually take them up on it. But in reality, all this did was send me into a crying fit that led to a depression. Thank you so much for the reminder that my daughter should be celebrating a birthday next month but she's not because she is dead. Awesome. How the hell Vons got my information (I am assuming from the hospital birth records) is beyond me but they did.

Whatever. As a BLM, you are used to having your cry and then putting your mask right back on to face another day until you get ripped down again. And that happened today, when the mail decided to rape me again. Here's what we got today.

Wow. Thanks Toys R Us! Way to rip me down. Again. So I called them. That was fun. Here's a little "transcript" of the convo:

Me - I would like to be removed from all of your mailing lists. (Give info....blah, blah, blah)

Them - Which ones are you on.

Me - I don't freaking know but I don't want to be on any.

Them - Well I need to know so I can get you off them

Me - I never signed up for any. Can't you just get rid of them all on my account?

Them - No.

Me - great. Well, I had a registry with Babys R Us. Maybe from there?

Them - What was your registry number?

Me - I have no idea.

Them - Well, I guess I could find it some other way.

Me - Great.

Them - okay I found it. Do you really want me to delete all of the lists. You can get some great deals and even have help planning birthday parties.

Me - Yes.

Them - But you are going to stop receiving coupons. Why would you want to miss out on that?

Me - Because my baby died and I am sick of seeing this shit.

Them - Oh.

And that is my life my friends. Yes, I am a freak of nature and the unthinkable happened to me. I'm just so sick of life always having to shove it in my face.

A Different World

I really should start writing when I have better days because it feels like the only times I update is when I've had a bad day. Perhaps it's because on the bad days, I feel the need to sit and sort my feelings out.

I had a bad day. I was able to keep myself together and keep the "I'm normal" mask on all day but whenever I stole a moment alone, I cried. There's really no reason why it should have been a bad day - it wasn't a trigger day or anything - but I felt like shit.

I think a lot of it has to do with the weekend. For Dan's birthday, I got him tickets to go see the Giants/Cubs play up in San Francisco. We took Ty up there and had a wonderful time. It was great to see my husband so happy and actually enjoying life. But that's kind of where our trouble started (he's feeling like shit too). While we were at the game, we noticed people with their kids (specifically toddlers and babies) everywhere. They all looked so happy - many probably sharing their first ball game with their kids. This may sound completely innocuous to anyone who hasn't lost a child but if you have, you probably get where I'm going with this. It sucks to see other people with their children when your child is dead. All it does is show you what you are missing out on and what you don't have and never will again. Because yes, we will have more children (if we are lucky enough to do so) but we will NEVER get HER back. She will always be dead and there will always be a huge chunk missing from my heart.

And then we come home. It sucks coming home. It's really hard to ignore what has happened in our lives when we come home - after all, you walk into our house and the first thing in your line of sight is the closed door to the room that used to be hers but is now the room where all the baby stuff sits until I am ready to deal with it.

Sometimes I feel like we live in a different world than everyone else. While everyone else is going about their normal lives, doing everyday things like taking their kids to ball games, we are just sitting there looking in with jealousy and sadness. Whether we like it or not, we are forever changed - we just don't see the world in the same way as everyone else anymore. We know that no matter what we do, tragedy can happen. We realize that we are helpless and don't have as much control over ourselves and our lives as we thought we did. We know that we can wake up one day and our lives can change forever. We realize the meaning of mortality and have lost our innocence forever. We are different and we aren't going to change back, no matter how much other people wish we could. We are not going to ever be considered "normal" again.

I read an article today that a woman in one of my online grief groups posted that I wanted to share about this very subject. I think it's very well written and completely describes what I am feeling. Hopefully, it can help others either understand our grief as a bereaved parent or help the bereaved parents realize that we are not alone. http://missinglarry.com/2012/05/30/for-those-of-you-who-believe-you-could-lose-your-child-tomorrow-and-still-be-who-you-are-today-2/

I'm not a superhuman after all

I had a hard realization today. Let me start from the beginning though in order to explain the background. After work, I picked Ty up and we went to a fundraiser a friend was holding to raise money for a scholarship program in the name of her daughter who passed away around the same time as Naya (yes, I have made a lot of friends who are also bereaved parents). Ty and I enjoyed a little date night and got home around 8:00. (Dan was still at work.) I opened my car door and our dog Feo was right there in our driveway. This is were the weirdness happened.

At first I was super confused. How the hell did Feo get out?! He is confined to the backyard while we are gone during the day. The gate was latched, he didn't dig a hole and all the doors were locked. We called a friend over and he checked the house to make sure no intruders had gotten in. Everything was there and safe. I am still not quite sure how exactly he got out although I think Ty may have accidentally left the gate open this morning and the wind blew it shut sometime today. Either that, or someone came into our backyard and he got out. All I know is that we were very lucky that our dog is such a wimp that instead of running away, he stayed on our porch waiting for us all day. I don't know what I would have done if something happened to him. Can't go there.

Anyway, Ty was pretty shaken up after this. He was scared that someone had gotten into the house and was waiting here to rob or hurt us. He wouldn't even let me leave the room for a moment while he was doing his homework because he was so scared. He was also afraid to go to bed because he was afraid that someone was going to break in and hurt him during the night. I told him that if I didn't think it was safe for him to be in the house or go to bed, we wouldn't be here because I would never let anything bad happen to him. He told me that I can't always control that and that bad things do happen.

This comment really made me sad. I think every kid realizes someday that their parents can't always save them but it usually happens when they are older. Shit, I am 31 years old and still believe, to a certain extent, that my parents can help "save" me. But he's 10 and because of everything that happened, he already knows how little control I have. I can't tell him that I am going to protect him no matter what - he knows better. After all, I couldn't protect his sister and keep her from dying so how could I protect him? I know that he doesn't blame me or anything like that but it just made me realize how much innocence he lost from everything that happened. His reality is so much different from other kids his age because he realizes that his parents aren't superhuman and can't always be there to save the day. He realizes that his parents are merely humans and not always in complete control and the world is a much scarier place because of this. It sucks and is just another consequence of Naya's death that I have to consider and deal with.

Alone Time

This weekend was a perfect definition of my life - all over the place emotionally. Let me preface with saying that both Dan and Ty were gone this weekend and I was on my own for longer than I have been since Naya died. I used to love my alone weekends in my former life. I could sit around, watch bad girlie movies, clean and do whatever I wanted with out worrying about anyone else. It used to be awesome. Not so much anymore. I was able to do all of those things but what unfortunately comes with this freedom is plenty of opportunities to sit and think. And my thoughts aren't pretty anymore. They are morbid and depressing. Dan left Saturday morning and, luckily, I had a spa day already planned with a friend. It was much needed and I believe we may be going back soon - it was a good time. I was exhausted when I got home (still battling the bronchitis and sinus infection), so I took some tylenol PM and went to bed. Sunday was a different story. I didn't have plans until later on in the day, so I spent my morning cleaning. And thinking. And crying. For some reason, I fixated on her hands. They were so beautiful. She was born with the most beautiful set of nails. Even while she was in the hospital and dying, they stayed beautiful. Everyone complimented them. I realized that I never took a picture of them. And now I can't. They are gone. Forever. I will never have the opportunity to go back and see or touch those hands again. They are gone forever and I didn't take a fucking picture. I could punch myself for not doing that. I know it may sound morbid but when this baby is born, I'm going to take pictures of all it's little parts, take video of it crying, etc., just in case. I regret so much not doing that with her. I thought I had plenty of time to do so - the rest of our lives - and I don't. She's gone and I will never see those beautiful little hands again. I wonder how long it's going to take before I can't picture them in my mind. I dread that day and I am not taking any chances with documenting this one. Life is so fleeting and you just never know.

I'm Back

Back home, safe and sound from Sacramento. The drive up wasn't too bad - only took me about 5 1/2 hours or so. The strangest part is that I don't think I've been by myself for that long without distractions since Naya died. I was surprised that I didn't break down crying at all, especially since I tend to that anytime I'm driving by myself. I was surprisingly stoic the whole time. Shocked myself, actually.

Anyway, I got to Sacramento at about 8pm, checked into my hotel and went to the restaurant next door for something to eat. The place was pretty empty with only a bartender working, so I sat at the bar to make her job a bit easier. Probably a mistake - when you sit at a bar, it's almost an open invitation for people to talk to you, which I did NOT feel like doing. This old man was sitting next to me who was pretty drunk and a mumbler. One of my pet peeves are mumblers. Non-eventful conversation until the mumbler turned racist on me. It was actually entertaining - he told me congrats on the pregnancy and that he was glad I was contributing to the white population of the state. I was a little taken aback but just said, "sorry to disappoint but my husband is Filipino, so this baby is one of those damn mixed breeds" and left. It was quite humorous.

But, back to the real reason I was there - to lobby for AB 1731. I have never done this before, so this was quite the experience for me. We spent the morning listening to speeches and preparing for our congressional visits. For those of you unfamiliar, this is how it works. AB1731 was brought up in the Health Committee and approved. Because there is a cost associated with the bill, it was put into a suspense file that the Assembly Appropriations Committee is voting on tomorrow. If they vote to remove it from the suspense file, then the Assembly will vote on it and send it to the senate for a vote. If they approve it, it will go to the Governor. So basically, we are still early on in the process but at a critical juncture. If it doesn't move out of appropriations tomorrow, the bill dies. And that's why we were there.

In the afternoon, we split into teams and went and visited various Assemblypeople and senators. My team consisted of three of us and we visited 4 officials, one of which I knew who was very receptive. I was basically the person who had the "real life" perspective and told Naya's story to all 4 of them. It was hard but I'm glad I did it. I love talking about her. It makes me feel better. All-in-all, it was a very successful time for us and we got 4 yeses, which was great! It was a wonderful experience and I would definitely do it again.

So cross your fingers that the vote goes okay tomorrow. I think either way, I am going to be lobbying my local hospitals to implement pulse ox screens (as well as following the AAP recommendations for release of a Newborn) with or without the law but it will definitely help make this next project easier. I am still working on my game plan but I will write more about it soon.

Lobbying

What a week. Who am I kidding? What a month. I am officially exhausted. You would think I wouldn't forget how tough it is on the body to be pregnant, considering I've been pregnant for two freaking years now, but damn. I am tired.

This is my first weekend without something going on in months. No work (yea! 10th Anniversary is over and it kicked my butt!), no weddings, no fundraisers, NOTHING. Except for the bronchitis I've got going on right now, it was great. Now it's back to reality again.

I've got another busy week in store. I not only have a whole bunch of work deadlines. (I need to find sponsors and finish writing our Season Brochure) but I also have committed to lobby for a bill in Sacramento on Tuesday. I will be leaving straight from work tomorrow to make the 5-6 hour drive up there, stay the night, lobby for 6 hours and drive home. Oh yeah, I am also 6 months pregnant and have bronchitis. (Don't worry, this trip is okayed by my doctor although I'm pretty sure Dan is not very excited about me leaving by myself.) Yes, I am insane.

This is really important to me though. The bill (AB1731) that we are lobbying for is sponsored by the March of Dimes and requires that all newborns in CA receive a pulse oximetry screen before being released from the hospital after birth. Pulse ox screens are non-invasive and painless tests that measures the oxygen saturation in the blood that takes one to five minutes and is administered in the using standard hospital equipment. Research has shown that a pulse ox screen can be used to detect undiagnosed heart and lung problems and newborns (including sepsis!) and could potentially save lives. The Children's National Medical Center has a pretty good FAQ on this, if you are interested in reading more. http://www.childrensnational.org/PulseOx/FAQ.aspx. Although Naya did not have a CCHD, the possibility that the sepsis could have been detected by earlier intervention and potentially saved her life is very real and something I can't ignore. As much as misery loves company, I do not want anyone else to have to live in the hell of my reality if it can be prevented. The 6 hour drive to share my story and maybe influence some politicians is worth it.

Speaking of the March of Dimes, we are still fundraising until June 30th, just in case you were interested.

Wish me luck!

Mother's Day

Yeah! My busy work season is over. We've been celebrating our 10th Anniversary at work and had public events held everyday for the last two weeks that culminated on Sunday with a black tie benefit. It was fun but my almost 6 months pregnant ass is exhausted. Mothers Day was my first day off for weeks, so I spent the day catching up on all of the chores I have been neglecting for the past month. Mothers Day went better than I thought. I was NOT looking forward to it. Yes, I'm a mother and I appreciate my mother but let's face it, the day really sucks for those grieving - especially for those of us who have lost mothers or our children. Mothers Day is a time to celebrate our mothers and/or spend time with our children. When your child has died, it's another day when it's glaringly obvious that a huge piece of your life is missing. Just another painful reminder that "normal" people don't even think about. It wasn't a "happy" day for me. I didn't get to hold all of my children tight. I got to visit a cemetery where my dead child is under some dirt. That is my reality. And it sucks. There was a bright spot that occured over the weekend. One of my closet friends gave birth to her rainbow over the weekend. (she lost her daughter after a long NICU battle last year).  I was able to go visit her and I actually held her new, beautiful daughter.  I was in tears then and am now just thinking about it. I'm not going to lie, it was difficult. This is the first baby I've been around and it hurts. I can't really describe it to people who haven't lost a child but it's a physically pain that we experience. A heaviness in our arms and our chests that won't let it up. It feels like we are struggling for breathe, like a heavy weight is constantly pushing down on our chests.   Holding this baby just made me ache for my own - both Naya and the nugget. These next 15 weeks are going to just drag by.