MoreCheese

In Memoriam: The MaryMadeline Project

Those of you who followed BabyQuest know that I have depended heavily in the last several years on an online community of women undergoing infertility treatments.  Now I'm part of a parallel online community of the women who have gone on to become mothers, whether through successful infertility treatment, adoption, or spontaneous good luck.  Most of us will never meet, and yet there is a strong bond that I feel with these women.  We've supported each other through years of hope and disappointment, during fights with insurance companies and jargon-laden consultations with doctors.  We've celebrated each other's pregnancies, and every baby born to a woman in that community has about 100 online aunties waiting to see their next photograph and hear about their next milestone.  Those women are my sisters-in-arms.

Today, my heart is heavy, because one of our members is burying her child.  Baby June was born three weeks ago with a rare genetic disorder.  Her parents were told from June's first day on earth that she would not be with them for long.  The strength and love that they have demonstrated in the face of this tragedy are truly inspirational.  They relied on their faith and some unfathomable innate strength, and they rejoiced at June's birth each day of her short life, using every moment with her as a chance to show her their love.  Today, as they bury her, they celebrate her life, short as it was.

Molly, June's mother, keeps a blog.  On it, Molly wrote that a friend had found an organization that creates and donates burial gowns for infants.  Molly wrote about the happiness she felt in having a beautiful gown for her daughter, and the relief of not having to go out and find a gown on her own.  She asked for support for this group, so that other families experiencing such loss could receive the same comfort she did.

The nonprofit group that created Baby June's gown is called The Mary Madeline Project.  They use donated wedding gowns. 

My own wedding gown has been preserved in my attic for almost 10 years now.  I never knew what to do with it.  Now I know.  If you still have your dress and are so inclined, please go to www.marymadelineproject.org and donate yours as well.  Or mention it the next time someone you know asks what to do with their gown.  It may feel a little strange to suggest, but just think of the comfort you can bring to some parents' life.

And please say a special prayer today for Baby June and her amazing family.

I am so lucky (Love Thursday)

I am so humbled by and grateful for the amazing friends and family in my life.  The amount of love and support that's been pouring in over the last 24 hours, by phone, by email, on the internet and in person, has been amazing.  I'm overwhelmed with how loving you all are, and I'm taking all that love in and healing with it.

Thank you so much.

 

For more (happier) images and stories about love, as always, go here.

Some sad news

We found out this week that we lost one of the twins.  I wasn't feeling well, so out of an abundance of caution, I called the nurse at my OB's office just to check in.  She said that what I was feeling sounded like normal pregnancy aches and pains, but they wanted me to come in for a sonogram, again, out of an abundance of caution. 

So I went to a radiology lab near my office, excited to see the babies again (I hadn't had an ultrasound or sonogram in a month.)  As soon as the screen came on, I knew something was seriously wrong.  Baby A was actually moving around quite a bit, jumping and punching with its arms.  Baby B was not moving at all, and was about half the size of Baby A.  The tech called in a doctor, who performed a more detailed ultrasound, which confirmed that Baby B did not have a heartbeat. 

I think I was in shock.  I knew that this could happen.  Vanishing Twin syndrome, they call it.  Its very common.  But I had read that once you see a heartbeat, your chances of miscarriage go way, way down.  So after we saw Baby B's heart beating at 8 weeks, I assumed the worst was over and most of the danger had passed.  And then sometime between then and now, we lost it.  In retrospect, it seems like little Baby B had been struggling from the beginning.  Its growth was always behind Baby A, and seemed to occur in lulls and spurts. 

The doctors would say that there was something encoded in its DNA, there from the moment of conception, that caused the fetus to stop growing.  Others believe God has a plan, or that things are predetermined by destiny.  Me, I can accept that Baby B just wasn't meant to stay here with us, and I'm glad s/he didn't struggle for too long. 

I'm sad, of course.  I fell in love instantly with this little possibility of a person, and I'm grieving that loss.  But we are also grateful.  Baby A is strong and healthy.  His/her heartbeat sounds like a tiny herd of horses galloping at full speed.  During the sono, that cheeky baby actually turned over and showed the nurse and I its backside.  I can't feel any of those movements yet, but I keep replaying the image in my mind, and it makes me smile everytime.

I think I'll always feel the loss of Baby B, and I know I'll always have a place for that baby in my heart.  But there is so much to be thankful for, and to be happy about, and that's what I'm going to focus on. 

This journey to parenthood never ceases to amaze me.