one year

I am amazed that it has been a year already. One whole year without Aidan. It has been a rough, rocky year, full of ups and downs, but I'm glad I've reached this mark and am feeling as well as I do.

Today was good and relaxing. It went by quickly and I didn't break down. Keith and I played some computer games, we saw Ghost Rider (which sucked, but I bet Aidan would have liked it), ate some dinner, drank some good wine, and I made a layer cake!

Here are some pictures from today...

a toast to Aidan

I've managed to keep this guy alive for almost a year now (my cats like eating the leaves, hence the broken ones)

My parents got us an orchid plant in honor of Aidan (sorry for the crappy lighting)

It came with a cute little bear

This has been here for a while now, but this is Aidan's box, always surrounded by family

The layer cake!  this is not the finished product...it's red velvet strawberry shortcake

Iced with cool whip. I've never made a cake like this before.

Topped with strawberries

Yum!

I want to give a huge THANK YOU to everyone who has thought of, prayed for, sent things, and did things in honor of Aidan today. I am overwhelmed by all of your support!  I hope my little boy can see how much we all love him and how much he was wanted. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 

To Aidan, I will always miss you, baby boy, but I will love you forever. Here's to you, on your one year angelversary. 

getting better

I've been thinking a lot about last year and those last days before Aidan's death. What gets me is how sudden all of it was.  One moment I was happy and eating chocolate cake, the next I was freaking out in our bathroom while my heart was racing and I thought I was going to die.

Reliving those days is more like it. Every moment, every phone call, every conversation with every doctor. Those were terrible, terrible days. Those stupid antibiotics that made me vomit uncontrollably. My son suffocated to death inside me. With no amniotic fluid he had nothing to breathe. His heart was racing too, dangerously higher than mine, and he died.

I wanted to die too.

I would lie in bed at night after his death, reliving those days as I do now, consumed by sadness and depression. My heart medicine was only a few steps away in our bathroom.. Just a few extra pills would slow my heart down enough and release me from all of this pain. And then I could see my son again.

That would have been a selfish thing to do, though, and I reminded myself of that every time those thoughts came to my mind. Losing a child is hard enough and I did not want Keith to lose his wife too. Nor my family their daughter/niece/granddaughter/cousin/friend.

I got though that dark stage of my life. I'm crying as I write this but I swear I am so much better than I was before. There is still grief and sadness, but is not nearly as intense as it used to be. With time comes healing, but there will always be a scar to remind you of your pain.

I think I will be ok tomorrow, the anniversary of Aidan's death. We are going to see a movie and I am going to bake a cake. We will open some fancy wine from our trip to Napa, and we will celebrate our son's short life. Oh, I am sure I will cry, but I will get through this. I have to.

it stings

I became aware of some new pregnancies over these past few weeks.   Hearing about them still stings.  Being told about them in person is a lot better than seeing a post on facebook. When I see an ultrasound picture or an announcement on facebook, I feel like they're shouting this news at me. HA! LOOK WHAT I DID! I GOT PREGNANT AND I AM SO CONFIDENT ABOUT THIS PREGNANCY THAT I AM GOING TO ANNOUNCE IT TO THE WORLD AND FILL UP YOUR NEWSFEED WITH PICTURES SO YOU WON'T MISS IT! AND THEN EVERYONE WILL COMMENT ON MY AMAZING PICTURES AND THOSE COMMENTS WILL SHOW UP IN YOUR NEWSFEED TOO! MWAHAHAHAHA!

Obviously that is not true (I hope?), but that's how it feels, and it makes me want to run away and hide. Or say fuck you.  Losing a child is not fun. TTC and failing every single month is not fun. It just seems so foreign and shocking to hear about another pregnancy and to see such confidence these women have that they're willing to share this information with the world.  Just because you're past 12 weeks doesn't mean you're safe.  Not to instill worry into anyone who is pregnant, but being pregnant doesn't always equal a live baby in the end.

I just wonder when it will stop hurting. When hearing about someone's pregnancy will make me smile instead of cringe.

v day

One year ago today, on February 14, 2011, I felt Aidan kick for the first time.  I was suspicious of that little nudge at first, thinking it was just gas bubbles, but then it happened again, and I just knew it wasn't another gas bubble. And at least once a day until his death I felt that tiny little kick. I'd lay in bed, trying to feel for his kick. I knew it was very early to feel anything at all, but I tried, and loved it when I felt it (though I never felt it with my hand).  I still get gas bubbles (funny.. I never noticed them before I was pregnant) and each one reminds me of him. Oh to feel his kick again..

Keith bought me flowers last year, as he does every year, and had them delivered to my office.  This bouquet came with a bright red plastic heart necklace draped around the vase. I thought at the time how the necklace complemented the vase well (which was also a bright red) but what the heck was I going to do with a plastic heart necklace?  I'm not a hoarder, but I have this thing with hanging on to special objects, and even though it was something I'd never use or wear, I knew I would keep it for at least a few years until I'd had enough of it. All because it was from Keith.  Anyway... that plan changed and now I will keep that heart forever.  Shortly after Aidan's death I bought a shadowbox for some of his mementos, like his "birth certificate" and hospital wristband that he never wore.  The heart hangs within the shadow box, above his things, protecting them.

Funny how this little piece of plastic and a few gas bubbles are such strong reminders of my son.

february

February is here. I know that's quite the obvious statement, but I've been dreading its arrival. Aidan was born in February, and in less than 20 days it will be his birthday.

February is my least favorite month of the year, and it has been since even before Aidan died. February is the month of gloom and depression. Winter has usually kicked in full force by now, several inches of snow blanket the ground, and you're not sure if you'll ever see a sunny day again. February is when seasonal affective disorder kicks in for me, when my saddest thoughts occupy my mind and make me just want to give up on everything. Aidan's death made February even worse.

Surprisingly we have had a very mild winter this year (so far). We've had some snow accumulate on the ground, but within the next day or so the sun comes out and melts it all away.  I was actually smiling on my drive home from work Monday night because the night hadn't come yet, the sun was setting behind me, and the entire sky was painted in these glorious faded shades of a rainbow. It was so beautiful.

But it is still February and I am waiting for the winter to come and the depression to kick in. I have been thinking a lot about Aidan's birth/death/angel-day and what we should do. That day is already special in my mind, but I don't want to treat it as an ordinary day. I don't want to sit at home and do laundry and play computer games all day. I want to DO something. But... not with other people. Just me and Keith. I don't think I could show up to an event, hang out with friends or go to a party that day. Not yet, at least.  A few months ago my coworker revealed that he, too, had lost a child. The day he told me this was the day of his son's angelversary. It seemed so strange that he was even there, at work, acting as if it were a normal day. Aidan's birthday is on a Sunday this year, which I am thankful for (no work, no commitments), but I would probably take the day off if it were on a workday. I then found out that my coworker's child died several years ago from a degenerative medical condition. He was 8 years old. So he's had a few years of angelversary practice. I was surprised to hear that he had lost a son too, but saddened as the list of friends and family who have lost a child (children) is ever-growing.  We had a beer at the end of the day to celebrate his son's short life. I wonder if he did anything else to celebrate.. or mourn.. that day. I never asked. But I hope that someday I can make it through Aidan's birthday with the calm and ease that my coworker presented.

So what will we do?  I want to do something that we can do every year. Turn it into a tradition. That no matter where we are or what our life has become, we can celebrate/mourn Aidan's life and death the same way each year.  One thing I would really like to do is bake a cake. I've seen other babylost parents do this, and I think it's a fantastic idea. I love to bake and who doesn't have cake on their birthday?  I think I've figured out what kind of cake to bake as well, but I'll leave that as a surprise in case I change my mind.  I would like to go somewhere that day too.. even if it's just to a movie or out to dinner. Something we would have done as a family if he were still alive.  Lastly, I would love it if *you* did something special on his birthday. Something in honor of Aidan.  Light a candle, donate clothes or blankets or hats to a hospital, release a balloon, gaze at the sunrise or sunset, or just say a little prayer for him. Take a picture of it or tell me about what you did.  Just knowing that someone else is out there thinking of him on his birthday means so much to me.  My e-mail address is godess (at) comcast.net. (Yes, one d. It's lame, I know, but I've had it since middle school.) Aidan was born on February 26, 2011 at 7:09pm.  Thank you to all who would like to celebrate his short life with me. I truly appreciate it.

11 months

I'm feeling much better this month compared to the last ten. I'm still not pregnant (that I know of, at least) but.. I feel like I have hope again. Real hope. I don't know if it's just the start of a new year or what.

2011 was the worst year of my life, and it seems like such a blur now. The year started off so wonderfully, then Aidan died, and then... it's like I was in one of those movies or commercials where I'm standing still, but the world is whizzing by me in colorful streaks.  And now we're here, almost to February, the month of Aidan's death.  I don't know how I made it this long.

Over the weekend I put together a 2012 photo calendar, using a template from younghouselove.com. The idea is you are supposed to include one picture from each month of the previous year in your calendar. So the January 2012 page has a picture from January 2011, and so on.  It's a cute idea and I had fun working on it. What amazes me is how much I did last year. In almost every month I had more than one event to choose pictures from, and when I finally narrowed it down to one event I still had soooo many to decide upon.  February was the only month that I did  not attend a single event, at least not one where I took pictures or have pictures. So.. I used Aidan's ultrasound picture. That's his month, anyway. And he's my son, part of our family, and deserves to be in my calendar. Our kitties didn't make it in.. surprisingly I did not take many pictures of them last year.I haven't printed the calendar yet, so maybe I'll go back and work them in somehow. Anyway, in case you're curious, here are some of the pages:

Since my photo collection from last year is so surprisingly large, I made a list of every major thing I did (and by I, I mean Keith too as he took part in practically all of these events as well)...

Traveled to New York City for work five times
Traveled to Los Angeles for work once
Traveled to Amsterdam for work/vacation
Traveled to Frankenmuth, Kansas City, Lewiston, San Francisco, Napa Valley, and Mackinac Island for vacation
Attended four weddings
Took a driving tour of Michigan to visit nine breweries
Keith got tattoo #2 (don't believe I ever posted a picture of this.. soon, soon.)
Rode in a hot air balloon for the first time
Learned how to crochet and made 7 blankets and 4 stuffed animals, among other things
Grew pumpkins in our back yard for the first time
Met my best friend's daughter and attended her baptism
Met my son and held his ashes

Only three of the above events occurred before Aidan died, and they were all work related. That's quite the accomplishment, isn't it? For someone who's just lost their child?

I also hung out with my friends, a lot. More so at the end of the year, but I still went. I cried, I laughed, I smiled. I found out how amazing and supportive they truly are. And my husband, who put up with my last minute event cancellations when I just could not compose myself, my endless crying, all of the depressed and angry days. He might not always get it, but he is truly my rock.

I wasn't planning on writing this much, but I guess I had to make up for several weeks of nothing. 2011 sucked, but just look at that list. I am amazed at myself.. I survived the year of hell.  Next comes February, which I am a little apprehensive of, but I know it's coming whether I like it or not. I will save the rest for another post.



As always, my sweet Aidan, I love you so much. I wish I had memories of you sleeping, breathing, talking, playing, walking. All I can do is imagine. Oh if only I could live in my dreams.

a new year

Hello, 2012.  So far you are not as fantastic as how 2011 started, but you are definitely better than how it ended. I can count on one hand the number of times I've cried this year. Go me!  Oh.. wait, it's only January 9.  That's not much of an accomplishment, is it?

I don't really have any resolutions. I never make any, though. I figure that I shouldn't need a new year to start bettering myself.. I should do that on my own.  Or perhaps I'm just lazy. Yeah, that's probably it.

Over the holidays a lot of my family got together - which we haven't done in ages - so I of course took a bunch of pictures and posted them on facebook. A cousin who didn't attend this gathering commented on the album, saying he wished he could have been there. I'm sure he could have made it, but that's not the point. In another comment he randomly said, Oh, by the way, I'm engaged and I have a son named Aidan now.  "Beautiful baby boy" were his exact words. I kind of figured he had a son since I tend to stalk people on facebook and I saw a bunch of pictures of him with a little boy, so it wasn't much of a shock to hear the news, but why did he post it as a comment on one of my albums?  Does he not know about my Aidan?  Perhaps he doesn't.  I don't plaster facebook with my grief.. The people who know about my Aidan are the ones who were told by my family and friends. Or the ones who saw my.. what.. 2 statuses? Anyway....  I kind of want to comment back on my album and say "Hey, guess what, I had a son too. His name is also Aidan. But he died."   Would that be inappropriate? 

Sometimes I still want to shout to the world and proclaim that he died. To let everyone know that it still sucks, life is not perfect, I'm still grieving, and then command them to treasure every single happy moment they have because you never know when life will turn to shit. But don't throw your happiness in my face because I can't handle that.  I still enjoy hiding and protecting myself from the things that hurt me. The people that hurt me. The comments and the lack of comments.  I know you don't know what to say to me, and you're afraid that you'll hurt me or make me cry, but if you're thinking it then SAY IT.  Who cares if I cry? It's not like I haven't cried in public before. My biggest issue with crying in public is that I can't talk.. because I can't get the words out and because I sound stupid (cracking, high-pitched, wailing voice.. yeah not so good). So I just sit there and nod my head with my mouth shut and tears streaming down my face. Anyway, the point is...

I'm rambling. That's what the point is. Just getting these thoughts out there. Perhaps I should be more vocal in person.. not online.. about my thoughts and feelings. That could be a resolution for me. Nah, screw resolutions. Let's just make it a step towards bettering myself. 2012: The year of betterment.