Adelle - Our Angel Baby

The inevitable is inevitable. 

I've been thinking of ways to skip this week, maybe find a cave to hide in until next Monday.  Unfortunately, as it has always done, the world keeps spinning and like it or not we're all on for the ride, including me.  This week marks Adelle's 6-month Angelversary (I take a big pause and a deep breath before replacing the word birthday with Angelversary again) and if the timing wasn't cruel enough... Mother's Day.

The thing about loosing your baby is:

1) every day you wonder what you'd be doing if she was here and what she would look like
2) your body doesn't care whether or not your baby is here, it wakes up like clock work at night (every 2     hours at first and subsequently less but then it's the nightmares and reality that do it) 
3) you look for signs that your baby is with you everywhere and want to believe in them
4) you get bitter when people minimize your loss or don't want to understand the magnitude of the event
5) your relationship with people changes
6) you hate that you can't go to baby showers for people who have always been there for you
7) everything seems trivial and you hate that you don't care as much as you used to
9) nothing makes sense and the world seems really unfair

And finally:
     10) you loose a big part of yourself too

I can probably fill that list with 1000 more things, but these are just some of the things I've been dealing with lately.

I should mention that, when you loose your baby you find out who your real friends are and learn to be grateful for these people.  My little Angel Adelle has brought me to some great people and tomorrow I am excited that I will meet (in person) an Angel Mommy of 12 years who's been a great support for me lately on my hardest days.

According to Elizabeth Kubler-Ross, the expert on death and grieving, one of the steps to grief is a little something called "anger".  Let me tell you about this fun tid-bit, because it seems you can apply the Kubler-Ross stages to any loss including loss of a job or news of infertility...

I used to be a very-patient-for-most-things individual (but very intolerant of anything that hurt anyone else).  Now it seems every single little thing makes me angry...  Recently I've heard people complain because of illegible handwriting...and get this... a client complained because he has to PAY for something or other for his grown-up kid.  (Hello buddy!  I wish!!!)  Among those trivial comments are more significant instigators,  like a letter from Mount Sinai Hospital asking for donations (it's funny because just before going for the MRI, I told M that after Adelle was born we were going to start donating to Mount Sinai to help them continue to save babies. I know they still do, they are great and I appreciate every expert who helped us... but still MY baby wasn't saved and now I get this letter with good news stories and a request for money. Ouch!)

The kicker is, I HATE feeling this way!  My brain says "stop!" but my heart doesn't know how or vis versa.  I don't recognize myself anymore...  I'm tired of feeling angry, negative and bitter over such trivial and non-trivial things.  I'm tired of reading into people's words and adding my own spice (my thoughts are usually peppered with jealousy and you guessed it anger)... 

I hope this will pass... because of the whole grieving process.... this is by far the worst.  I don't want Adelle's memory to be associated with bitterness.  I love her so much, that's the emotion I want to feel.

I must say that as far as Angelversaries go, this was a good one (Of course, what do I know?  This is one of the first of many, many Angelversaries).  Sara and I distributed flyers for Angel Mommies Support Group.  We're convinced that someone (or maybe two someones) were looking out for us...  As we entered the Obstetricians' offices, NICU and funerals homes it was sometimes hard to hold it together but we found strenght to do what we felt was right.  Luckily we were greeted, for the most part, by people who were open and gave us positive feedback. 

Today I feel that I was exactly where I was meant to be... however distraught this made me feel.  (If you ask me tomorrow, I might tell you something different).  This doesn't take away the pain, it doesn't make me accept the situation, it just means that I feel that I was doing something positive and that Adelle's short life might give a purpose to mine afterall, even if she grew her wings too soon.

So, I will put on my mascara again tomorrow morning, hope it doesn't smear (again) on the drive to work and face the day head on...  We'll see what it throws back at me.

What can I say?  It's just (another) bad day...
I looked at Adelle's picture for the first time since November.  I probably shouldn't have done that before going to work....  It brought me right back to November 6th.  The wound reopened and is bleeding freely again.

So, I finally had a meltdown and came home.  Fortunately, I was sent a special Angel Mommy, she called me and talked to me for over an hour.  It was so nice in my time of deepest sorrow (of today anyways) to be able to talk freely about Adelle to someone who understood completely (her story is so similar to mine).  And now I look forward to meeting later with Sara and to sharing with her too. 

After all, we are moms, as I was reminded today, and moms love to talk about their kids...

When I was little, I remember hearing: "Stop the World I want to get off!"  I used to think it was quite funny... Imagine!  Why would anyone want to stop the World AND get off of it?  Sadly, I am in total agreement now. 

You'll have to excuse me now as I go Google the way to stop this huge marble...

I've been wanting to write for the last few days but everytime I start a post nothing seems to make sense.  It seems whenever I find something positive to focus on, it doesn't take very long for something negative to poke it's head through.  It's hard to put into words any of the things I am feeling because none of it makes sense.

On the one hand, I am trying to have faith in a "spirit world", more specifically in angels.  I somehow found myself at a conference last weekend on the subject and became a Certified Angel Practionier.  I have a talent that enables me to receive messages from the angels.  I also got readings from perfect strangers, other students, who didn't know me from a hole in the ground who got messages from Adelle for me.  She is apparently a very playful little angel.  During a meditation, I swear I could feel her little arms wrap around me and give me a hug.  Ah, but faith is a brittle thing.  After doing an angel reading for an acquaintance yesterday, it seems the message the angels had for her, brought back a lot of old "issues".  I couldn't help but feel responsible for her sadness.  Then of course, I starting doubting the whole thing, not just if it's real but whether or not I should "go" there.  It's white, it's black but it's never gray.  So, some moments I believe and others I don't.  And when I do, I feel that people look at me funny or with the look that says "she just needs this to deal... she'll soon realize it isn't real..." 

Then of course there is work.  It seems the business world and "real" life are like oil and water.  They don't mix no matter how hard you shake the container and try to blend them.  I was asked four times yesterday by clients who saw me pregnant whether I gave birth to a boy or a girl.  Work should be a good outlet to keep my mind busy, but this only happens when people aren't asking questions like this.... because of course, I have to tell these people that "it's ok, you didn't know".  Why can't I just wear that billboard?  And why can't I just go hide somewhere when my heart breaks?

And then there are the conversations I have with family sometimes...  Whenever I mention something in front of some members it's like I can feel them getting so uncomfortable, hoping I will change the subject soon.  If I want to talk about Adelle and my pregnancy, why can't I?  I shouldn't have to worry about how it makes other people feel...

So, this just feels like a post that is going round and round in circles...  There is no point to it, other than to make me think that I will be confused for a long time.  I guess that's why they call it the healing "journey"...  sometimes you forget your toothbrush, sometimes you get lost, but sometimes you find an hidden jewel off the beaten path. 

I realized something going back to work yesterday...  I will never be the same.  I suppose I have known this all along, but today I admitted it.  There is what I've deemed the "Pre-Adelle" and the "Post-Adelle" Mireille. 

I haven't quite figured out the details of who I've become yet.  All I know is that the Mireille I am now cries a lot and has an ache in her heart that just doesn't seem to go away.  Going back to work has brought back all kinds of feelings I had burried deep within myself a few weeks ago.  I suppose it's because I have to be "on" at work.  The lady I spoke to at PBSO explained it in these words:  "Hollywood could call on us anytime".  Parents who have lost their baby really are the best actors.  We put on our makeup and voilà... instant "normal" human being ready for a "normal" day at work.

I wish that I could just wear a sign that says "My baby girl passed away".  Maybe then it would avoid awkward situations (like the lady who caused me to breakdown yesterday when she asked me how my baby was). 

I suppose sometimes you have to face things head on and suffer through them so that, in turn, they become less intense.  I had promissed myself I would get Adelle a little "Gund" blanky.  So today, although it will not make sense to anyone else, I purchased the white lamb blanky.  I had never bought her anything and though it brought tears (again), it's something I felt compelled to do...  Something that didn't require me to wear a mask or pretend.  Instead, I could just be the Mireille who still missed her precious child every single day...

I've been keeping busy this week trying to get myself and the house organized before returning to work on Monday.  Have I mentionned how much this stresses me out?  True, true... I have also mentionned that I work with a dynamic group of ladies who "have my back" as they put it.  And they are certainly not the reason I am afraid to return. 

I am stressed because a) now it's officially been 17 weeks since we lost our little angel and it feels like so much more time has passed... b) just visiting the office a couple of weeks ago, when I saw what my replacement did to my desk - gasp! - nothing seemed the same [I know, you can't expect someone to work for months and not change things to be more productive... and "your" desk at work isn't really "yours" is it?] and c) what do I say when the clients ask: so how's your baby?  or (for new clients) how many children do you have? and as a result d) having breakdowns at the office... I don't like when people, especially strangers, see me cry.

I know I can make it through this.  It's another step I have to take and as much as I know deep down in my heart that it's time...  I also know it will be difficult.  And as someone in a Facebook group that I joined to commorate lost babies put it, I am emotionally drained already.  I mean, just vacuuming yesterday was quite the feat... I am not really sure how clean the floors are because my tears were blurring my vision.  What will I do when things get crazy at work?

As luck or fate would have it, I met with three friends yesterday...  Kind of like spirits of life past, present and future, though I am not sure which is which.  I was able to just let loose with the first who helped me smile after a morning full of sobs, then got great advice for my return to work from Sara who has had to do that recently (best advice that I feel she needs credit for:  when going back to work, take it one hour at a time instead of one day at a time - it will seem more manageable), then some energy healing from Melodie. 

It is with nervous anticipation that I prepare myself for this new step and I know it will be ok. As the Beatles said it "Oh I'll get by with a little help from my friends..."

Earlier this week I met with Sara (I have changed her name for her privacy), who is an Angel's mommy too.  We talked about so many things that I had not thought about for a long time.  It was nice, but at the same time was very difficult.  It brought back a flood of emotions and that night I cried myself to sleep for the first time in a while.  I realized how much I miss my little baby and how much I keep myself from feeling...

Sara lent me a great book (that she has read three times already... and I understand why).  It is called Beyond Tears - Living After Losing a Child written by parents who have lost a child.  I was flipping through the pages yesterday and fell upon a passage that spoke so strongly to me.

Since November so many people have told me things like: "You're so strong..."  or "I don't know what I would have done if this happened to me..."  Every time words like these were uttered it felt like I was being stabbed in the heart.  I couldn't quite comprehend why and I couldn't put the words together to formulate a thought that made sense.  Then, highlighted by Sara (so I know she has felt the exact same thing), the author wrote:
While those in the "civilian world" may think we are consoled when they tell us they could not survive losing their child, some of us dissect such words and unfortunately attach a very different meaning to them. [...] It's almost as if they are saying that we are able to survive because we didn't love our child as much as they obviously love theirs.

I can't express the relief I felt when reading that.  It's been something that has been weighing on me for a while.  As I read a few more passages, I understood myself more.  I am not living every day... rather I am surviving every day.  There's a big difference.  Sara and I were told by different people that the pain never goes away, it just gets less intense as time goes on.  I am happy to have met Sara and that we can journey together and when it feels like the pain will never get "less intense" we can turn to each other for empathy.

Most nights I wake up in panic.  I have had so many strange dreams and nightmares... too many to recount.  This might be the reason I am so tired during the day.

Last night falling back asleep after such an episode, I had a dream that I was pregnant again.  The sensations of the baby moving and turning around in my belly felt so real.  I wished for the dream not to end, though I knew it was not real because because the details were inaccurate (I had just found out I was pregnant and had the belly of a 5-month pregnant lady), but it did. 

I have had dreams that run through my mind like a movie reel, showing the same pictures and events over and over again since November.  But this was different.  It was a nice dream, although I've been somewhat melancholic today because of it.  Trying to remember the same sensations which just aren't the same while awake (because reality is harsh during the daytime).

I am not going to analyze this dream or try to give it deeper meaning. Instead, I've accepted this as a sort of gift... A relief that maybe even in the future, dreams will be a reminder of the physical memory... 

Something great happened yesterday.  Something worth mentionning...

I had been trying to get in touch with the Perinatal Bereavement Services of Ontario (PBSO) for a couple of weeks.  It seemed that whenever the contact person tried to reach me, I had not been home.  Then last night, at roughly 9 pm, the phone rang and it was her.  Last night!  That was Saturday!  At 9 pm!  She spoke with me for 44 minutes.

I just had to write my post about that today because that showed service that is usually unheard of.  I don't care if you say it was part of her job or if she's getting paid over time (of either I have no proof).  The fact remains that she did not rest until she got in touch with me. 

She gave me some good advice and already has made me feel like I am moving forward.  It was nice to speak to someone so understanding...  someone who has not only gone through something similar but has also helped so many before me.  She has assured me that she will find a support parent for me and that I will be able to get 1:1 help shortly.

I also want to mention that I completed my Reiki Level 1 yesterday.  More on that later...

Something else worth mentionning...  I was asked my the Founder of SavvyAuntie.com to write an article on my experience a couple of weeks ago.  It is to be published on the website today.  If you're interested, please read the article by clicking here.

I was introduced to Reiki a couple of years ago by a close friend.  Since November, I have had the blessing of receiving several Reiki treatments by the warming hands of Mel. 

Essentially, Reiki is a Japanese technique for stress reduction and relaxation that also promotes healing. It is administered by "laying on hands" and is based on the idea that an unseen "life force energy" flows through us and is what causes us to be alive. If one's "life force energy" is low, then we are more likely to get sick or feel stress, and if it is high, we are more capable of being happy and healthy. The word Reiki is made of two Japanese words - Rei which means "God's Wisdom or the Higher Power" and Ki which is "life force energy". So Reiki is actually "spiritually guided life force energy." (www.reiki.org)


 You may or may not believe in the healing powers of Reiki, but I am living proof that it is a wonderful way to help heal the body and heart, especially while greiving.  I think that gifts like Reiki (and people) come around when you need them most. When going through a traumatic experience it's ok, and probably essential, to learn from it and take from it what you can.  For me, Reiki among others, has played an important role.
 
I registered for Reiki training a couple of months ago (after seeing the positive effect it had on me).  Starting tomorrow, I will know a lot more about Reiki and also be able to give Reiki treatments, all taught by a woman who has been doing Reiki for over 40 years.  I hope to be able to share Reiki with others, just as Mel has shared with me.

Hopefully my contact from the perinatal bereavement organization will be able to help me with making sense of all this... 

In life, when going through a particularly difficult time, I find it helps to look at the future in terms of steps.  This way, things don't feel too overwhelming.  Today I took such a step. 

As I drove to the office to meet with my boss, I felt nervous.  Realistically, we spend just as much (if not more) time with our co-workers than we do with family.  I like to concider these ladies (henceforth called the "JC girls".  And IT guy, if you're reading this, this includes you) my extended family.  So, I didn't have time to get teary-eyed as a walked through the doors, because I was welcomed with smiles and hugs.  I had a short meeting with my boss to discuss details of my return to work in -yikes!- less than three weeks.  I think it will be ok.  It is to be expected that I will have good days and bad days (see previous posts).  For the most part, these ladies understand and have all, including my boss, assured me that they will support me in any way they can. 

I have been thinking about work frequently recently.  I took this job roughly three years ago in hopes of moving up in the company.  But when I found out I was expecting, this job was perfect for a mom: nine to five and no work to bring home.  I admit, guilty, that because I am going to be working just to work now (and not to provide for a family), I thought that this job wasn't the best fit for me.  But sometimes, who you work with is more important that what you do.  It's a lesson I am reminded of every time I am surrounded by these quirky people...

We visited my sister this weekend.  It was the first time we took the highway that brings us to Toronto since our last follow-up appointment at Mount Sinai Hospital when we found out our baby was already gone.  I thought the drive was going to be the difficult part - sort of a retracing of the last steps we took before our whole world fell apart - but surprisingly it wasn't.  The hard part was taking out the suitcase, packing and ultimately unpacking it.  The suitcase reminded me of the little pijamas and diapers I had packed and had imagined that I would do again and again when travelling with our new baby.  Life's funny (not funny ha ha, but funny strange) that way.  You sometimes can't even predict your own reaction to things.  This worries me. 

I am meeting with my boss tomorrow to discuss my return to work.  This is suppose to happen in a little less than three weeks.  I am anxious.  I haven't walked through that door since November 5th.  I was supposed to return to work the following Monday but never did.  This is the reason I requested tomorrow's meeting.  I want to go for a "visit" before having to return permanently.  Hopefully this will ease the "blow" of facing yet another reality.  The one where I am working just to work and not to provide for my child (now that makes any job fulfilling!)

So lies ahead quite the day tomorrow.  I wonder what my reaction will be...

So, I just thought I would let you know... Seeing and holding Baby C has been effortless.  He is still the sweet and wonderful Godchild he was the last time I saw him.  Of course I wish he was here to meet his little cousin Adelle...  I have a feeling he has a very special guardian angel watching over him...

As for me, I have been in contact with the Perinatal Bereavement organization (PBSO).  I think this will be a very good thing.  Also, I have met another woman who has lost a baby and we have decided to meet... This is very important to me as I am, finally, facing my fears head-on.

Ever feel like you've been hit by a truck?  Then you look back to see what kind of truck it was but it drove away so fast you couldn't see anything except for the blurr?  I feel that this morning!  I've been crying so much, my head hurts and I feel nauseous.  I'm not sure what truck hit me...  might be that sleep is hard to get by or that some people have surprised me with their lack of sensitivity, or that the viel I've been hiding behind is slowly coming up and revealing what I've been avoiding at all cost to see or... or... or...  

Mostly, I think it's just that it's another day without my precious Adelle.  I think reality is setting in hard now.  It's not that I didn't realize she was gone or that I haven't been missing her.  It's more like the more days go by, the further she seems to be.  Lately, my dreams have not been of butterflies, but instead of a baby's distressed voice calling "Mommy!" over and over again and I know I can't get to her to help.

I am not giving up though.  I think it's time I try getting help from professionals.  So tomorrow I will call the Perinatal Bereavement (PBSO) and see if I can talk to a counsellor.  I've been avoiding this... thinking I could do this by myself.  I am not embarassed to admit that I am not. 

I am nervous and excited, my best friend is coming for a visit this week.  She is bringing Baby C, my Godchild (I haven't seen him since my baby shower.)  So, you may not see me for a few days but I will keep you posted as soon as I can. 

You would think things would get easier with time.  Just about everybody has promised me that.  I supposed that 2 days before the 3-month anniversary of your baby's passing, isn't really enough time.  I am relieved somewhat by this fact as today I try to remember her little kicks, then holding her little body in my arms.  Some of the details grow more fuzzy every day... that's why I wish time could just stand still for a moment.

Today I miss Adelle a lot...

I have very vivid dreams under regular circumstances... add a traumatic experience and voilà: the recipe for many more dreams (some good and some not so good).  I am one of the lucky who remembers their dreams after they wake.  Last night's dream, I feel, is like a metaphore for a part of my life.

In this particular dream, the Titanic made an appearance (you know it's gonna be bad when...).  The majestic vessel was well... majestic.  M & I stepped inside and set off on a voyage.  Inside the boat was old and rusty.  I don't think I am ruining any ending by saying that the boat started to fall apart all around us.  But M & I held on to each other and there was a feeling of safety and mostly of love.  This is when I woke.... 

I think I like this as a metaphor for our relationship.  Loosing Adelle might have made us feel like our lives were falling apart but we love each other and we will be ok.  I was afraid at first... sometimes events this big drive a couple apart but for us, I feel, it brought us closer.  I hope Adelle knows that she has made a big impact in our lives...  she saved the Titanic from sinking. 

One of the things that has bothered me since loosing Adelle, is the fact that I am now/once again/maybe forever (it's still too soon to decide to "try again")...childless.  My whole life women who are childless have been described as being selfish and have been accused of not understanding anything about family (or life in general).  I have heard the expression "she's not a mother so how would she know [about being tired]..." countless times from some women who are very close to me.  I wonder now, if I will ever be able to prove that I know, probably more than they think, about life and about raising a family.  It's not something that comes with an owners' manual and I know that M & I would have been great parents - the instinct and the love was (and still is) there. 

I bring this up, because I read a very inspiring article this morning.  The founder of the SavvyAuntie website interviewed Elizabeth Gilbert, author of Eat, Pray, Love, and she talks specifically about the selflessness of childless women.  I welcome you all to read this inspiring article:  http://bit.ly/boF8F1.

I attended yoga this morning...  again it made me cry. 

Determined to know why, I went to see the instructor, Lana, after class.  She is so great!  She listened to me, through the blubbering and tears, as I repeated "I don't know what's wrong with me!"  I mean really, two yoga practices and, twice, tears during and after...  I needed an explanation.

In a soothing voice she reassured me that it's because I am doing it right.  I am, through yoga, getting to the trauma and with the tears letting some of the hurt go (she explained this in a much nicer way but I think I got the gist of it). 

I pondered this all day.  I admitted to myself that I have been suppressing a lot.  In a way, I am afraid that if I let go of the trauma, of the hurt and of the sadness... it's like Adelle and the memory of her will go too.  But today, after speaking with Lana, I got a little glimpse of what could be - of being able to untangle the pain from the memory.  I think that eventually I will be able to just remember her and think of her with love and happiness, as I already do but, minus the negative aspects (like the self-blame, etc.).  Granted, I still have a long way to go! But I will continue with  my yoga practice and hope that it will keep helping me heal: to face my fears head on and then to let go.

Oh, and just an aside... I succeed with the "downward dog" position this week.  :)

My mood matches the weather today... gloomy.


I feel frustrated and angry at myself and at just about everything. I didn't want to mention what I am about to write because I know the person from who it came didn't mean for her question to cause so much grief. However, I know it's something that others think purposefully and that I will have to deal with from now on.

If you loose a baby, it seems, people don't think it's such a "big deal". Or so I am made to feel sometimes.  Well it is! Adelle was alive for thirty-four weeks, her tiny heart beat 140 bpm or more, her little legs kicked, she yawned and had hiccups... She was loved by her parents, grand-parents, aunts and uncles (and still is!).  There was a place for her in our home (her nursery is still here).  My body went through everything... every single step... that every mother went through for pregnancy, labour and delivery.  And even if I didn't... those moms & dads that loose a baby to miscarriage, neonatal death or born still deserve the same respect that any parent would get if they lost a child of 6 months, one year or older.  A baby, a child, a person can not be replaced. 

I am angry at myself for letting a simple innocent question get to me this way.  I feel frustrated because I am afraid to seem ungrateful and because nothing I do can change anything that has happened. I wish I was caring for a baby instead of writing about her death...

If I seem well adjusted on the outside, never mistake that inside, my heart is shattered in a million pieces - slowly it will be mended, but there will always be a hole there - the part that I gave to Adelle to bring with her to Heaven.

Technology has proven itself to me today to be quite positive by bringing me closer to women around the World who are moms to Angel Babies.  I joined the Facebook group "Little Angel Wings".  Following the path that was set before me, I gave a little blurb about who I am and how I came to be there.

I have always been a little upset that I could not remember how much Adelle weighed... was it 3.5 or 3.6 lbs?  I used to think that I was an awful mom for not remembering that. 

I was induced at 9:50 a.m. on the morning of November 6th, 2009 and gave birth to Adelle at 3:53 p.m.  Eventhough I knew she had already passed away, I remember as I pushed, thinking that it was such a miracle.  I could feel the head, the feet. I was wishing so hard then that it was mistake, that the baby was still alive...

M and I had thought that morning that we would not want to see or hold the baby for fear it would be too difficult.  But thanks to advice from Roxanne (see previous post), the urge was so strong to do just the opposite.  She brought her to us in a warm white blanket.  I had her in my arms for what seemed like five minutes but must have been closer to thirty.  In those short minutes, I had to remember her tiny nose, her beautiful lips, her dark curly hair, the feel of her weight in my arms.  Most parents have an entire lifetime to remember the characteristics of their babies.  I only had a short time...  So, I have forgiven myself for not remembering the .1 lbs difference. 

I will never know the colour of her eyes or the sound of her laughter...  But I see her beauty in the blooming flowers, her light in the sun, the sound of her voice in birds' songs and feel her love through your prayers, friendship and care.  She was beautiful on Earth but she is more beautiful now with her little angel wings, of that I am sure.

The Angel took the book of life
And wrote down Adelle's name
Then whispered...
"Too beautiful for Earth"

Let this be said of all Angel Babies.

I used to believe in coincidences... those events that happen by "accident".  I have recently stopped believing in coincidences.  I think it is more plausible that we are given the information we need when we need it and more importantly we meet the people we need at just the right place and time.

You have most likely heard the saying: "It takes a minute to find a special person, an hour to appreciate them, a day to love them, but then an entire life to forget them." 

Today, I received a phone call from Claire.  I met Claire at Mount Sinai Hospital in Toronto briefly as she is a staff member of the Fetal Alert Network.  She said she had been wondering about me recently.  Seeing as she had a few minutes today she called me.  I am not sure if this is part of her job...  I got the impression it was more than that.  I thanked her for her help (she really was a great resource for me) and asked if she could pass on the message to Dr. Greg Ryan as well.  Eventhough things didn't turn out the way we anticipated, I have so much respect for the staff at Mount Sinai.  They are knowledgeable but most importantly they show empathy, respect and understanding to parents going through a very difficult time.

While in labour at St. Joseph's Hospital in Sudbury, I was blessed with a nurse who went above and beyond her call of duty.  Her name was Roxanne and I don't think I could have made it without her.  She will never know that the first night at home, while weeping, the first soothing thought that came to me were her respect for little Adelle's body and her kind words.  It takes a very special person to do what she did.

These three very wonderful people are just some of so many who have come into my life... for a moment... and I shall never forget their kindness. 

I don't usually write on "bad" days as I have recently been made aware that loved ones (God bless them!) read this blog to see how I am doing.  Bad days are always triggered when I least expect it and often I don't know what will set them off.  It was a promissing morning, I was looking forward to my first yoga class of the year.  However on the way there, the song The Climb by Miley Cirus came on the radio and set the mood.  I had selected this song as Adelle & mine's "theme song" because I heard it for the first time shortly after I learned I was pregnant and thought that it was fitting.  I never imagined that the climb (which I now understand to be my pregnancy) would actually be more important than what was waiting on the other side.   I never imagined that we would quite litterally not be together on the other side.

Then, as if on cue, during yoga, while holding a pose that reached waaaay deep inside, I had a vision of holding little Adelle at the hospital.  The teacher instructed us to not worry if we were visuallizing past traumas, to not ask why but rather to just accept them and looked upon them with curiosity.  "Hey lady!  No problem!" I wanted to yell "I really DON'T know why this happened to me!"  The further we pushed into the practice the more inadequate and angry I felt.  I mean, what a stupid body I have that couldn't protect my precious daughter.  I hate everything about it: the flat feet, the skinny-ness (I mean, c'mon... give me some boobs and a butt!), the dark circle under my eyes...  To top it off, I can't even do the "downward dog" properly!  I know I have to learn to love myself again and to not blame myself (that's what people tell me), but it's going to take time... a lot of time. 

In the midst of all this, I received a comment on yesterday's post by my mom-in-law, Jeannine.  (She's made it to two blog posts today with her inspiring words!)  I don't think she knows just how nice her words were to read.  It's exactly what I needed to keep going and to continue on my healing journey... flat feet and all.

Click to hear The Climb by Miley Cirus

Somewhere in between not sleeping and reoccuring nightmares, I had a wonderful dream...

A beautiful orange butterfly, more beautiful than a Monarch, fluttered around me.  It came closer to me, and put it's little feet on my neck - it felt a lot like a baby's hand.  I was afraid then and started swatting it away.  I remember thinking I should stop doing that. just before I came to full consciousness, I looked back and saw the buttefly hiding (but not completely) behind a thin white post. I know it was Adelle giving me a sign... telling me that she is still near. 

You can choose to believe this or not.  I didn't realize the significance of the dream until I started telling some friends about it.  When I looked up, one of them was teary-eyed.  She said that a friend of her's had a similar dream about a butterfly shortly after the death of his daughter a few years ago.  Also, in reading "Angel Babies" by Patricia Seaver McGivern (a book that I highly recommend for anyone who has lost a baby), a father tells of a dream that he had of a butterfly and knowing that is was his baby. 

There are some people who will argue that dreams are a part of our sub-conscience and that this dream was nothing more.  But I felt such peace and love upon seeing that butterfly and hope that no one will take away that moment and that feeling from a greiving mother...

There are quite a few things I want to mention today but I think I might need to save some for another day.  I celebrated my birthday over the weekend and received two particularly wonderful "gifts".  I am sure you have heard the saying "ask and ye shall receive"... apparently this works even if you don't speak your desire out loud. 

It's funny how one thing leads to another.  More specifically how one person leads to another.  I met someone very special - through Facebook intervention - over the weekend.  I do not know her and have never met her in person but I feel grateful to have her in my life.  She lost her baby girl a year ago and was kind enough to share her story with me and open her heart to my questions and thoughts.  It brought back many emotions (for both of us) and spending a Saturday night crying might not seem like a good way to spend a Saturday at all... but it was important to pave the road to a place of healing.  I must remind you that I am very very grateful for the support of my family and friends.  However, it is so nice to speak with someone who has been through the same ordeal and who understands (what might seem like) crazy thoughts I have or had.  She is also bringing me towards other moms who have lived through this traumatic experience and I have learned recently that you can never have too many friends.

On the same wavelength it has become particularly important to me that this blog reaches more moms and dads who have lost a baby.  As if my wishes were delivered to sister-in-law Sylvie by a wispering Angel, she sent me a message yesterday with ideas on how to market my blog to others.  This may not seem like a big deal to anyone but after my "ah ha" moment this weekend, this is another very important stepping stone to keeping Adelle's life and presence a very positive one.  She changed our lives and our world and I want to help other parents who's babies have done the same.

I can't help but smile.  One of my Facebook friends started something today.... To copy and paste the following message and put it as your status: " IN MEMORY of all babies born sleeping or whom we have carried but never met or held in our arms. Make this your profile status if You or someone you know has suffered the loss of a baby. ♥ The majority won't do it, because unlike cancer, baby loss is still a taboo subject ♥ Break the silence, In Memory of all Angel Babies gone too soon but never forgotten♥"  Such a small gesture, but of course, I oblidged! 

When I returned a few hours later so many friends and family members had followed my lead.  (Thank you!)  Particularly, I paused when I read the message on LC's and AJ's profile.  I had a vision of our babies - little Angels - together.  I know in my heart that Adelle is safe and loved.  Tonight I was reminded she has wonderful friends to keep her company... just as I have wonderful friends here with me.

So many moms have shared their experiences with me recently... stories that resemble mine and help me know I am not alone.  Our stories are not identical but the pain we share is.  Most importantly, the hope we have that we will some day be reunited with our precious Angels is overwhelmingly shared as well.  I have a feeling all of us can't be wrong.   

My cousin shared this poem with me yesterday and I think it is fitting for tonight's post:

I thought of you and closed my eyes, and prayed to God today.
I asked what makes a Mother, and I know I heard him say:
A mother has a baby, this we know is true.
But, God, can you be a mother, when your baby's not with you?
Yes, you can he replied, with confidence in his voice.
I give many women babies, when they leave is not their choice.
Some I send for a lifetime, and others for a day.
And some I send to feel your womb, but theres no need to stay.
I just don't understand this God, I want my baby here.
He took a breath and cleared his throat, and then I saw a tear.
I wish that I could show you, what your child is doing today,
If you could see your child smile, with other children who say:
We go to earth and learn our lessons, of love and life and fear.
My mommy loved me oh so much, I got to come straight here.
I feel so lucky to have a mom, who had so much love for me.
I learned my lessons very quickly, my mommy set me free.
I miss my mommy oh so much, but I visit her each day.
When she goes to sleep, on her pillow's where I lay.
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek, and whisper in her ear.
"Mommy don't be sad today, I'm your baby and I'm here."
So you see my dear sweet one, your child is ok.
Your baby is here in My home, she'll be at heavens gate for you.
So now you see what makes a mother.
It's the feeling in your heart.
It's the love you had so much of, right from the very start.
Though some on earth may not realize you are a mother, until their time is done.
They'll be up here with Me one day, and you'll know that you're the best one!
-Author Unknown

Ironically, I received messages from many friends with positive thoughts, prayers and gestures (see above)... unbeknownst to each of them that they were all doing so on the same day.  Please know how thankful I am and find some peace in knowing that you helped me smile today.

I've been tip-toeing around a subject because I feared that you, dear reader, or anyone else for that matter might judge me to be crazy.  I have read recently that some life events occur that open your heart like a flower.  Once the petals are open, the flower is ready to receive, in this case, faith or belief.  I am not sure why we have to explain ourselves when it come to this....  Tonight, after having dinner and a nice conversation with some dear friends (the JC ladies will know who they are), I have been supported and encouraged to share my thoughts.  You see...  I believe in angels.  I always have, but now even more than before. 

Sometimes, although very rarely, I feel closer to Adelle now than when I was carrying her.  It's difficult to explain and the feeling is so fragile.  One wrong thought and the sentiment floats away like the parachute-like seeds of a dandelion.  To believe is a lot harder than not believing.  The latter takes no effort at all.  But you see, I have to hold on to something and that something is invisible.  I can't see her, hear her or touch her... but when I let her, she lets me know she's here - I can feel her presence. 

Like I said, it's difficult to explain because in the same breath I would give everything to gently squeeze her toes, tickle her tiny belly and kiss her forehead.  I walk by an empty nursery countless times a day and try to picture her sleeping in the bed that was chosen just for her in a room that her daddy worked so hard on perfecting.  So eventhough she is close, she is still so far away.

You may not believe in angels and that's ok.  As for me I do not doubt that Adelle is an angel.  Throughout this difficult time, I have learned to believe in other "angels"... people like you who have supported us, shared experiences and have prayed for us. 
“For those who believe, no proof is necessary. For those who don't believe, no proof is possible.” - Stuart Chase

I braved the cold winter winds this morning to be one with nature.  The pros say that 15 minutes in the sun can help with emotional well-being.  It's another one of those ying and yang things for me.  The benefits of the sun were outweighted by a feeling of sadness.  A few months ago when I walked the same path, I wasn't alone.  I had this little being inside of me and I was amazed with life's miracle.  I had a whole future ahead of me complete with Adelle & hubby.  Nothing else in the world mattered.  I was happy.

Like a naive child, deep down I hoped that if I showed God how much I loved Adelle by how much pain her passing caused me, I would be rewarded with her return.  Of course I know this is insane!  I am reminded of the finality every day.  Our lives meshed together for a short while but we had to go our seperate ways.  For what reason I'm not sure...  I'm still searching and I may search for a very long time.

I'm not sure where I am going with this.  I feel lost (where is my life taking me?) and just needed to write things down.  No comments required today...  I know you're reading and wish you could help but there is nothing to say.  This is my path to follow and healing takes time - one step forward and two steps back.  Luckily, tomorrow is another day.

Yesterday I held a friend's baby.  This might not seem like a big deal as I have held many babies, many times before.  But yesterday was different... it was the first time I held a baby since loosing my own. 

I have explained before that I keep seeing babies everywhere, but it's different when you see them from a distance.  When Alexy's mom asked me if I wanted to hold her, I had been holding my breath and telling myself I was doing really well just being in the same room as the little one.  I did not cry!  Alexy kept looking at me, as if to say "it's ok".  Funny how children have this uncanny way of seeing into your soul. 

So, I picked her up.  In that moment I thought to myself...  all these babies are not going to go anywhere.  I never wanted them to either.  They are all unique, and after all a person is a person no matter how small.  (Isn't that another Dr. Seuss quote?)

It wasn't a perfect moment.  I still felt a jolt of sadness when hubby held her because I wasn't able to give him his little girl.  But last night when hubby asked me how it was to hold Alexy, I wasn't not lying when I said "it was ok". 

When I found out months ago that Disney was to release an old-fashioned-type fairy tale on December 11th (the day before my expected due date), I promised Adelle we would watch The Princess and the Frog together.  It was the small goal I set for myself after our first trip to Mount Sinai Hospital in Toronto. 
I never stopped wanting to see the movie, after all I'm still a sucker for happy endings.  Yesterday I sat in the movie theater, popcorn in hand, and was entranced by the movie.  As I watched, I felt that Adelle was somewhere near watching it with us.  The funny thing was, it didn't feel so much like I reached a finish line but rather that I was starting a new adventure.  So as not to spoil the ending for anyone, I will simply say that Adelle is my Evangeline.  Once you've watched the movie come back to this post and you will understand.  We have to live without Adelle physically but she is with us spiritually.

A happy ending sometimes doesn't resemble the one we imagined but it doesn't take away the magic of the story.  We have to look at the bigger picture to realize that some things happen for the best.

As if I didn't know that before... now it's really clear!  I am NOT perfect.  Then again, who is?

When I was a little girl, I always pictured myself married, with a child or two, living in a cute house.  Then for 8 months, my dream life was tantalizingly close. I could picture it all, everything from the sleepless nights and diaper changes to the first day of school and walking our daughter down the isle.  Give or take a few details. 

The great part was that I knew exactly 13 women - in my social circle - who were either pregnant or had their baby within the last few months.  I pictured play dates and discussions on what remedies work for teething and what doesn't (among many others).  And, as any normal mother, pictured my little one being the cutest of the bunch. 

Well, it seems I am the only one who will not be included in these play dates.  I know that as a nice person, what I am about to say is taboo.  I mean nobody is supposed to admit this but like I said, I am not in any way perfect.  So here goes: I am jealous.  There!  I said it!  I am not an evil person.  I don't wish for anybody to go through what I am going through and deep down I am happy for all of my friends but still... I just wish it was me. 

This is reality and it sucks.