StillBorn and Still Loved

Ken and I went to visit Clara's grave on Saturday. I hadn't seen her headstone yet and I wanted to see it in person. It is BEAUTIFUL! Bigger than it looked in the pictures that Ken sent me! The red stone is just perfect for her. Red means a lot. For one, it's the color of garnet, which is her birthstone, for two, it's one of my favorite colors, and for three, it's such a brilliant and burning color, just beautiful!



Her last name is on her headstone but I erased it from the picture for privacy reasons. I put my hand on it to help show the size of the headstone. You can see the Hummingbird, Dragon, and Butterfly. Her 3 symbols.



Here is a picture of the headstone without my hand. You can see her Easter basket next to it too. They layed sod down on the indent after they placed her headstone to make the ground even.



We are very happy with her headstone. Ken didn't tell me until a couple of days ago, but the funeral director emailed Ken the Monday after Ken and the kids saw the headstone to let us know that her headstone was in, and that they put her Easter basket back on her grave after the headstone was placed. That was nice of them to let us know!

After Ken and I spent some time with Clara, we wandered again through the Baby Land section. On one of the headstones of a baby girl, the parents had put the saying, "Stillborn and Still Loved". I LOVED it!! Even though Clara died before she was born, she was still born and still loved. One thing that I have found common with mothers that have had their children die before they were born is the fear that their child does not matter to others or won't be loved by others because they never took a breath. Just because our babies never breathed, doesn't mean they weren't so very wanted and cherished and deserving of love and remembrance. They are our children just as much as our breathing children and we will always love them. They were still born and still very much loved.

Our Life (Added an Edit!)

Clara. We miss her like crazy. Overall, I think we are all doing ok, but I still worry about Nathan and Isabel. They are old enough to understand she died and to feel her loss. They will remember her forever and it has changed their lives. But, they are young enough to not understand everything, even their own feelings about it. At their ages, Nathan on the higher end of it, they are very egocentric. Something THEY did caused Clara to die. Some sort of magical means caused Clara to die. Something that could possibly grad hold of them or someone else that they care about and have them die too. They have learned a very hard lesson in life. That people that they love can die. That babies can die. That their sister can die. I know that sometimes it's very confusing for them and very sad. Sometimes they don't want to talk about her and other times, they do. Their feelings can be so conflicted at times. They both said that they DO like to talk about Clara. They like to remember her and think about her. Sometimes it feels good to talk about her and other times it makes them sad. When they are wanting to talk about her, I let them. They have to know that Clara is a safe topic and that their feelings are valid and that it's ok to talk about her even if they or others get sad. I've found the best way to judge how they are feeling at a particular moment is to just ask them. They are both pretty good at expressing their feelings and are quite good at letting us know when something is not ok.

One day, Nathan started talking about Clara. He had tears in his eyes and he said that he was so mad that he wanted to punch something. He asked why Clara couldn't have had the chance to live outside of me? Why didn't the doctors take her out the week before? Why did she die? He said he hated her cord for killing her. It's so hard watching your child grieving and knowing there's really not much you can do. I told him I didn't really have answers to his questions. Sometimes bad things just happen and that we made the best choice for her with what we knew at the time and that was to give her a chance to grow. With her cord, when the kids have been so angry at it, I told them that although it killed her, it also gave her life. I hope that helps them. Nathan does seem to be doing quite well however. He speaks so eloquently for his age. A couple of days ago he said, "fortune smiled upon me yesterday". It was so cute! I think his understanding of Clara's death and his acceptance of death is also advanced for his age.

Bella says that she wants a sissy that's alive. She says that she does have a sister and loves her, but she also wants one that's alive. I don't blame her! She was really looking forward to having a sister. Awhile ago she also said, "I guess that Clara won't be using the things we picked out for her". No sweet girl, she won't. She's also gotten angry and has asked why the doctors couldn't save Clara. It's so hard. Bella keeps any stuffed animal that represents Clara. Nathan and Belle both have their Clara lambs, but Bella confiscated a couple of others. One is a little pink monkey that Sarah got us when Clara was born. That is in her bed. The other is a duplicate of the chick that we got Clara for Easter. That is also in her bed. Along with Clara Lamb, Pony, George, and a stuffed cat she got for Christmas. Those 6 spend their days on her pillow and their nights wrapped in Belle's arms. I haven't actually given her the Clara animals, but they quickly disappeared from their spots and ended up in her bed. Hey, she obviously needs them with her! A month after Clara died, Bella's friends mom died. It was very sudden. Bella didn't tell me at first but I could tell that something was wrong, but she didn't want to talk about it. Finally, in passing, she just said that that the little girl's mom died. Oh dear. It was a hard hit for her.

The kids found a fire bug when they were playing outside. Apparently, Nathan saw that it's wings were broken so he decided to put it out of its misery. He picked up a big rock and smashed it. Then he and Isabel buried it, or at least pieces of it, and held a little funeral for it. They named the bug Twitchy. Hmmm, I wonder if it was twitching before they buried it. Bella made a picture of it and hung it on her wall. The next day Bella came home with a dead potato bug that she had named Whirly. She had it in a little Polly Pocket trunk. She opened up the trunk and showed me and sure enough, it was dead. She knew it. She wanted to keep it so I told her she could. She held onto that bug for days. Sometimes she would shake the trunk to hear the click of the dead bug against it. She would get sad off and on about Whirly and one day, Nathan told her, "Bella, everything dies. Someday you, me, mom, and dad will die. You can't keep that dead bug forever, it will eventually deteriorate". Sigh.

We have had some difficulties with the kids. Nathan has been angrier at times and seems less able to or wanting to deal with day to day stressors. He's quick to recover however and does seem ok overall. Bella has been lying about the dumbest things, to us and her teachers, calling me to tell me she's sick at least once a week when the teacher or secretary finally relents and lets her call me, acting and talking like a baby. She's much more emotional about things. It's hard to watch them struggle and I don't know how to help them. There is a grief support group for children close to our house that looks promising. They seem excited about it so we are going to check it out. Nathan and Isabel lost someone that they loved and cared about. They were so excited for Clara from the beginning. They had made so many plans of what they would do with her. Their want to see her was what made us officially decide to let them even see Clara. They WANTED to and both expressed that they wanted to see her. I think that was one of the best decisions we made throughout all of this. They understand each other so well and do really well together. As long as they have each other, I KNOW they will be alright. Nathan reads to Bella with voice changes and excitement and all, and Bella plays Nathan's games with him. They are an awesome pair! When we were at the hospital, the nurses told us that Nathan and Isabel were the best kids they had ever seen. You go guys!

Ken and I are also doing ok. We are working through it and the counseling is helping a ton. When we first found out that Clara died, I told Ken that the divorce rate is huge when your child dies. My doctor told us that, the nurses, more doctors, I felt that everyone was warning us. At first, it seemed unfounded. Clara's death brought us closer. We needed each other so much. As time went on, our grief became different from each others. Not more or less than the other, just different. We weren't understanding each other and little things because huge things and impossible to deal with. Day to day irritants couldn't be ignored. We were both hurting so much and not listening to or understanding the other person's needs. We fought so much and the kids noticed. That was the hardest part for me. It became a you hurt my feelings or you said this. Neither one of us had any patience for the other and the anger and resentment was building. I fully understand why couples break up after the loss of their child. It's not the actual death of the child, it's all the feelings that come after, how you change, what you are capable of dealing with, what you are wanting to deal with. You have your great grief and you have everyday life. It has nothing to do with how much you love your partner. Throughout 12 years together, I have never felt that Ken and I might not be able to work it out until now and that scares me. I have felt so alone so many times since losing Clara. I think that there is a part of grief that has to be handled alone. Sometimes that's all that there is. I know that Ken has tried his best to not make me feel that way, and I have done my best for him. Sometimes though, the pain makes the judgments. I also believe that we are fully committed to making this work and I have great hope that we will be able to do that.

** I am editing this post to also add that Ken and I ARE doing fine. We are definitely working through our issues and finding out new things about each other which seems a little weird after being together for so long! But it's also good as well. We are starting to spend more time with just each other and we are both doing our best to be understanding to the other ones needs and wants. It's a whole journey in and off itself!

Dreams and Awakening

Last night I dreamt about Clara. It wasn't a sad dream, or necessarily a good dream, but as my friend put it, it was a touching dream. Ken had written Clara a letter that he put in her casket with her. We didn't make a copy so those words are forever Clara's. In my dream, I wanted a copy, so we went to the cemetery and told them that we wanted that letter. They brought her casket in the room and left. Her casket was perfectly white and her flowers were still on top of it. We opened up her casket and she was as perfect as she was when we buried her. The letter was under her, so we lifted her out and layed her on the table so we could get the letter. Ken carefully got the letter out from under her and left the room with Nathan to make a copy of it. Bella and I stayed in the room with Clara. I looked at Clara and was so sad she was dead. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw her little hand start moving. Just slowly moving back and forth. I stared at her hand. I figured it was just electric signals still being sent. Then, she started to breathe. Very slowly at first, but then her breathing picked up and got to a normal rhythm. She pinked up and her body transformed into that of about a 3 month old, which is how old she would be now. She opened her eyes and started to softly cry. Not too loud. I knew she wasn't scared or hurt, but that she was hungry. I picked up Clara and held her, patted her back, and whispered comfort into her ear. I yelled for Ken to come back into the room. He came in and asked what I needed. I told him to look at Clara. He looked at the table where she had been laying and looked back at me confused. I shook my head at him and pointed to Clara in my arms. I woke up after that, but I didn't feel sad or wanting to go back to sleep to keep dreaming of her. I looked at the clock and it was about 1:30 in the morning. I felt satisfied. I remembered the feeling of holding my daughter living in my arms and comforting her as she cried. I got to be her mama and take care of her needs. I can still feel how she felt in my arms as I was doing that and it's a wonderful feeling. It's so hard being the parent of a dead child. You can't DO anything for them but you ache to do anything for them.

A bit ago, I asked Sarah when I would finally awaken. Finally feel as if my head had cleared and I would feel more normal. When would I feel alive again and not just trying to make it through each day. She told me that I would when I was ready. Now, I feel as if I have finally awoken. Myself, my soul, is finally stronger than my pain. Oh how I miss my baby and desperately want to be her mama, but I cannot do that and I am willing now to accept that. Clara will always be in my heart and I will always carry her there, but I accept that it wasn't my job to guide her through life, to kiss her owies away, to sing her bedtime songs. It was my job to give her life and then let her go. I accept it but that doesn't mean I like it or that I am happy about it. I will continue on with my life though and know that I did everything that I could for my daughter. I do see now though, that I have to give my attention to my children that still need me. Clara doesn't need me even though we might need her.

There were so many days that I didn't think I was going to make it, days that I didn't WANT to make it. Sometimes I would jump up and frantically look around for something....I had so many emotions rolling through my head. I would walk around lost, wandering, nothing made sense. There was no where to go. The pain was almost unbearable inside. I wanted to leave myself because it hurt so much to BE myself, but there was no where to run. I would go for drives when I would get too upset or when I felt completely overwhelmed with my emotions. I would drive as fast as I could to help take that feeling away. Most of the time, I would end up at Clara's grave, or if the cemetery was closed, find myself driving by it. I wanted my baby. I wanted to be close to her. That's what calmed me down. Now, I feel calmer inside. More in control. Stronger.

I have awakened. My senses are clearing and in a way, it's almost like my own rebirth. I am coming out a little different, a little sadder, but I am coming out. I finally have my head above water and can breath a little easier. The pain is still there, but it no longer controls me all of the time. I no longer fear feeling good because I am feeling good for longer periods of time when it used to be so fleeting and I would feel worse because I had felt good when that great pain came back. Sometimes, I still curl up a bit because it hurts and I have to do my deep breaths, but I know I will get through it. I still love her, miss her, think of her. But, most of the time now, I feel more at peace when I think of her and don't get as angry. I think I'm coming to terms with her death. There is the saying that what doesn't kill you makes you stronger, but I saw another saying that I thought was also true. It said, "I don't know if it's killing me or making me stronger". I feel that almost everyday. Am I getting better? Worse? Will this kill me? Or make me stronger than I've ever been? Grief is such an interesting process.

I get a lot of anxiety when getting something for or about Clara. Getting her death certificate I was jittery and anxious. When I found out her headstone was in, the same thing. Even the day we buried her I was super anxious. I've realized that it was because I know there are no do overs when it comes to Clara. We have to get it perfect the first time. The small amount that we were given is all that we will ever get of her. I hold onto everything of her so tightly. I want every second to be a lifetime. Every picture to become 1000. But, I also try to remember that Clara DID live a lifetime. As short as it was, she lived her entire lifetime.

Friday the 13th

Three months ago today, on January 13th, also Friday the 13th, our sweet little girl was born. Today, on April 13th, also Friday the 13th, we were able to pick up her death certificate. I am not superstitous when it comes to Friday the 13th, so it didn't bother me at all to have her born on that date. It actually made that date even more beautiful in my mind. Then to get her death certificate on Friday the 13th too. It felt right. When the lady at vital records told me they had her death certificate there, I was excited but got teary eyed too. Grief is so weird. I'm excited to have her death certificate. But, I'm excited because it's just one more thing that I can have of her. I cherish it all. Her first and middle names weren't on the original because the hospital hadn't filled in that information, so we had them do an amended death certificate. Her last name was on it, but we wanted her full name recorded. While waiting for her death certificate to be prepared, there were people coming in with their newborns. Babies who would be the same age as Clara. It was really hard to hear their little cries and to look at them. I remembered how it felt to hold a newborn and how sweet and perfect they were. I wanted to hold my Clara so bad. I tried to ignore the babies, but one was right next to Ken and I. I'm getting really good at NOT staring at pregnant women and babies. It hurts too much, so I just ignore them. That seems to help at least!

Her death certificate looks just like a birth certificate. It says her name, gender, where she was born, time she was born, lists her parents and our info. The only difference is that it says Birth resulting in Stillbirth. It's not a birth certificate, it is a death certificate. While all those mom's were picking up their babies birth certificates, we picked up our baby's death certificate. Very very weird. But it was so good to have her counted as a person. Her name and birthdate will be forever recorded. She was here. She existed. She meant something.

Easter (Picture Overload)

It is here. The day our precious child was due. It's been quite the road so far. It has been 2 months, 3 weeks, and 5 days since she was born. It's amazing that it's been so long! Our journey is far from over, but I am hoping that now that this day has come, it will really start to get easier. Time does help for sure. We love her and miss her, but I am starting to feel a small amount of peace when I think about her. It is a beautiful day. The sun is out, it is warm, and there is a slight breeze, it's hard not to feel good on a day like today! 

When we found out that she was due on Easter, I felt a certain rightness about that date. I got pregnant with her right after my due date from the baby that I miscarried. I thought the sentiment was just perfect. Since I couldn't have that baby, I would have Clara, and what greater significance than to have her due on Easter. Easter means rebirth and life. Then we lost Clara. She died and Easter became a mockery. I knew there would be no life or rebirth for her, so her due date was just a cruel joke. There is a song that I remember from when I was a little girl. In the last few days, it has been playing over and over in my head, today it is an almost constant buzz in my thoughts. It's called Love Crucified Arose. It's about Jesus being crucified and then coming back to life. The line that keeps playing in my head is, "and the grave became a place of hope", and I do have hope that Clara is not really gone, not fully. Now, I feel that Easter is the perfect day for her to have been due. Although she did not spend much time with us, she has changed us so much. Easter is now the hope that life continues and can still be beautiful, and my perfect baby girl is always with us. Through Clara's death, I can see the beauty of life, and how very fragile and temporary it is. So now the question is what we will do with our lives.

I took these pictures today while the kids were looking for their Easter eggs. I love how the sun is shining so brilliantly and brightly. It looks like the sky is on fire. Like Heaven itself is opening up to us.



We went to the cemetery today to visit with Clara. Ken had wanted to make her an Easter basket, he wanted to make sure she got one just as if she had been alive today. I had wanted to do this also, so we put together her Easter basket last night as we put together Nathan and Isabel's. It was very bittersweet. How do you pick things for a baby that will never see them? And then putting her basket together was also emotional. It was also nice to know that she will not be forgotten and will always be so very much loved and cherished. Her color is purple, like the Sugar Plum Fairy she was named after, so the paper grass in her basket was purple, Belle's was pink, and Nathan's was green. It felt right for us to be putting together 3 baskets.

The cemetery had more people than usual today because of the Holiday. In the Baby Land section, other mommy's and daddy's had left Easter baskets and flowers for their little ones too. I wonder if I will ever meet any of these parents. It might be nice to meet the parents of the babies that are sleeping near Clara. We walked around the Baby Land section a bit and looked at the other babies' graves. In a way, it's like getting to know your child's classmates, except these are Clara's angel mates. We put a pink Easter egg and a flower on Lydia's grave too. I really am glad that Clara has her aunt so near to her. Clara's grave is still a little indented and her head stone is not there yet. Soon it should be, probably within the next couple of weeks. I can't wait to see it in person!

We got Clara a little stuffed chick, flowers, a pinwheel, a cute bunny basket, a pink star sucker, Easter stickers, a chocolate bunny, and various candies.

We also did a balloon launch again. Bella wrote Clara a letter and we got some balloons before we headed off to the cemetery. We even walked to a really open area. Unfortunately, the balloons got caught in the breeze, and floated right into the climbing tree........this is becoming a tradition for us! Maybe next time we will pay more attention to the wind!



Dear Clara, I miss you so please make me a sentence. I love you and if you would be here with me in April 8 in Easter I would give you every egg I see and Happy Easter.

Then she drew a picture of her, Nathan, an Easter Egg, Daddy, Me, and Clara in my arms.

Ready to release balloons

Hmmmm.....Balloons stuck in a tree.....again....

Leaving Clara today was harder than it has been on the other times that I have visited her. The time I can compare it to is when we actually buried her. That day, walking away from her grave site was sooo hard. I looked back at her grave as I walked to the car. I didn't want to leave her but my feet kept moving me away. Today was similar. Not as hard, but it was hard to leave her again. The only difference is that we left things for her and have been thinking about her a lot today.

We could see Clara's things at her grave from our car. Hers is the one in the middle of the picture.

Overall, today has been a good day. I hope that they continue to come. I think Ken is having a harder time today than I am. It's hard for him to think of her and her frailty after she was born. It's hard when we are both having hard days the same day. I always feel good when I go to her grave, or when I share pictures of her or things to do with her. It's a bit of a natural high in a way. I hope that Ken can find a way to think about her and not get so sad someday.

We love you so much Clara! We miss you like crazy and remember you every day!

Clear and Bright

When someone you love dies, I think it's pretty normal to think about what happens after you die. Where are they? Are they happy? Safe? Loved? Nothing? It's a hard thing to think about, but then, so are a lot of things. The transference of energy from one thing to another, or from one entity to something else entirely. So, Clara's energy, soul, what not. What happened to it? Did her energy just stop because her body did? From as far as we know, that's impossible. Energy never dies, just changes. Then did her energy go into me? Or the air? Universe? Does her energy know that she was once a beloved child? Or, did she become nothing? Did everything physical and not physical end when her heart stopped beating? And then, what is nothing? I can imagine her essence just stopping when her body shut down. Her becoming nothing but our love for her and our pain for her. Her entire being stopped and although her life was unbelievably short, it was just what it was. That was what happened to her. Everything she was supposed to be or could have been stopped when she died. I can imagine and believe that the only thing left of her is her little body in her grave. I can believe she is not in Heaven because there is no Heaven. And, I am ok with that. I don't need the fairy tale that she is now happy and free to make myself feel better. I am truly ok with her being nothing anymore. I thought a lot about that before we ever thought that she could die. For years I have thought of it. And because of that, I can freely believe that she IS happy and free in Heaven. It is way to involved to go into the details as to why I believe that, but it's enough that I do. I love my daughter and I miss her every single moment and will for the rest of my life, but when my life is over, I very much look forward to seeing her and holding her and talking to her. Getting to know her. And if I am wrong, then I become nothing right along with her and it no longer matters.

The pain of losing her has been horrible. After the shock of learning that she had died was over, and time went on, the horror and the trauma of the situation came out more. Oh my God. My baby died. Not only that, she strangled on her cord. All of the fear of delivering her, and the imaginings of what she would look like, how we would feel to see and hold our dead baby in our arms. The trauma right after her birth. The pain and loss of leaving our own child behind. Talking about and planning our baby's funeral. Seeing our little girl in a casket. Babies aren't supposed to die. The feelings that she was ripped away from us. We had no choice. We would have held onto her forever if we could have. Knowing there was nothing, absolutely nothing, we could do to breathe life back into her. How out of control everything became. Everything we had believed in our lives became irrelevant or altered. It's amazing that people survive this and more amazing, that you can survive it with your sanity intact. I think Ken, Nathan, Isabel, and I will always be different from going through this. Some part of all 4 of us has shifted and changed. For the kids, I hope it's a small part for the negative effects, but hopefully will show them that love endures no matter what and will show them what really is important in their lives.

My children have been so strong and brave throughout all of this. I am so very proud of them to see how they have handled themselves during this hard time. I know I have not been there for them as I should be since Clara died, and I feel bad for that, but they have been so unbelievably mature and understanding. We've spent a lot of time talking to them about why things are the way they are, and that it will get better. They each have their own little photo albums of Clara and keep them next to or under their pillows. They know that I will probably cry when we talk about Clara, but I told them that it's ok! They get sad about her and we tell them that it's because we all love her so much and miss her desperately so. It means she matters to us. I was going through my emails and putting ones about Clara in a separate folder when I found the video I had made announcing our pregnancy with her. I put it on and watched it. Bella came downstairs and heard the song and started crying. She knew which video I was watching. She wanted to watch it with me, so I let her. When we announced Clara's existence, I had written, "Someday two will become.......three". She said that line out loud and has kept to that. She knows we have 3 children, even though one of them is in Heaven. For the first little bit, Nathan had been really closed off to talking about Clara or even wanting to look at her pictures. We were fine with that. No way were we going to force him in this area. Grief is definitely its own journey. One day, Nathan watched the video I had made of Clara after she was born. When he was watching it, he broke down and cried for a long time. I comforted him for a bit, but he wanted to be left alone so I respected his wishes. Since that day, he seems so much happier and at peace. He finally came to terms with what had happened to Clara. He now looks at her pictures when he wants to and seems lighter, like a great weight has been lifted off of him. I hope Ken and I are doing the right things in helping the kids along. We are doing our best and I think are doing quite well with it! We are all healing and it is getting easier.

Clara's name means Clear, Bright, and Shining. When she first died, I couldn't see anything clear, bright, or shining about her or her life. Only recently, I realized that that little baby was definitely clear, bright, and shining. It was the perfect name for her. Her essence and memory radiate out and just burn with light. We look up at the sky and look at the stars and know that our Clara is smiling down at us from that night sky. Burning brightly and calming our thoughts. She is our Clear and Bright Star, shining down on us from Heaven.

Easter is Coming

My due date is Easter. I've been both dreading that day and just wanting it to hurry up and get here so we can get it over with. Had everything gone as it should have, Clara would have joined our family on April 4th, 2012, 2 days ago. We would be coming home from the hospital today, happily blissful to have our long awaited little girl finally coming home. Instead, she went to go play with the angels without us. It's been a really hard week because it is now April and that was when Clara was supposed to join us. So much of the time, she seems like a dream to me. I feel like I'm grasping and trying to hold onto her, but she's just out of my reach. Ken remembers her clearly and nothing about her seems like a dream to him. He really got to bond with his baby girl, and in a way, it seems she is more his than she is mine. He vividly remembers his time with her. He got to dress her, hold her, help the nurses and photographer with her. He was responsible for her and had alone time with her when I was in surgery. He remembers the time that she was with us, in our arms, not just in our hearts. I do remember a few things about her, but not a lot. When we got the pictures from NILMDTS back, I was hoping that I would remember more when I looked at the pictures. I didn't. It didn't help me to remember at all. But, it did show me how much I got to hold her, how heartbroken I was to lose her, how very much we loved her. All of that can be seen in the pictures. I will never ever be able to thank Jen enough for what she did for us and gave to us by taking those pictures of Clara. It's got to be one of the hardest jobs in the world, but she does it and puts so much of her love into it, she is just an amazing woman.

Things I think about that I really shouldn't, but that still come. The constant wondering what happened and why, as her momma, I didn't know she was struggling. But I did know something was wrong, I just didn't know it was that wrong. Her movements had slowed down starting around 23 weeks. I wasn't too worried at first, babies that young and small are not consistent in their movements. Something I should have thought about was that for HER, that was not normal. I had felt her consistently move since 17 weeks. At my 24 week appointment, I was a bit nervous but didn't tell the Dr. that her movements slowed. My Dr. measured the fundal height, which came back perfect, and listened to Clara's heartbeat. It was strong and steady. That was enough information for me to put my worries in the back of my head. Christmas Eve, I was worried again. But, it was the holiday and I really didn't feel like worrying the kids for nothing, or ruin Christmas because of my fear. Christmas Day, I turned 25 weeks. She moved more consistently. I relaxed a little, but I still had this nagging feeling in the back of my head. The New Year came and still she wasn't moving like I thought she should. Now, I was 26 weeks and the last 3 weeks I had had to spend more time and fight to make her move. Something screamed inside me that something was very wrong, but I could not believe that MY baby could really die. No one believes it can really happen to them and I was the same. MY baby could not die. I was worried and talked to Ken about it and he said to make the appointment for the follow-up ultrasound for that week instead of 2 weeks later like we were going to do. I made the appointment, and felt a bit better. Thursday, almost 27 weeks now, the day of the appointment came and I was so nervous for that ultrasound. When we got there, the tech went to Clara's brain right away and saw that the cyst was gone and her brain looked perfect! She showed us the "butterfly" in her brain that meant the structures were formed perfectly. Then she measured her head and right away, something was very wrong. She was way too small, the size of a 23 week baby. Low amniotic fluid. An irregular heartbeat. Bad bad bad. She was in distress and struggling. I feared that we were about to watch her die right there on the screen.

We got sent to the perinatologist immediately. While waiting for that ultrasound, I held my stomach and sat in the waiting room with Ken and my grandma. All I could think about was that we cannot lose her. We would not survive it. The kids cannot go through something like this. Not my babies. Not any of my babies. I just held my stomach and was in fear of what we would find. When we finally got into the ultrasound, she looked better. They watched her heart beat for a long time and it was strong and steady. She was measuring very small though, and the amniotic fluid was low, but not as low as the previous ultrasound. The perinatologist and my Dr. felt that she would be ok for at least the next couple of weeks. They didn't think I needed the steroid shots yet to develop her lungs faster. They were going to watch her very close and make sure she was ok. I would see one of them every single week and then more often as time went on. I was to meet with my Dr. the following Thursday, almost 28 weeks, but if I was at all worried, I could come back in at any time. But, when I went in for my appointment that following Thursday, she was already gone. I KNEW it. I knew it in my heart that she was gone that whole day, but I could not believe it until that ultrasound showed my still baby. My world shattered. My whole life lost its meaning. MY child died. I didn't do enough to protect her or to keep her safe. I was so scared of something happening to her and I didn't make sure that it didn't. Maybe if I had disclosed all of my fears to the Dr.'s, they would have realized that Clara was not doing well and she needed to come out NOW! Nothing can change the decisions we made. The Dr.'s felt that she was better off in me. Ken and I thought the same thing. She needed to grow. She was so small. We won't ever know the full extent of what happened to her. She died because her cord got around her neck, but she was struggling too. Who knows if the placenta wasn't working correctly. The tests said it was fine, but it was shredded by the time pathology got it. Her cord could have failed her in more ways than one, but it was also in pieces by the time they examined it. The possible evidence got destroyed along with everything else.

I think of tiny baby sized tables in the morgue. I don't think they really have those, but sometimes I think about her in the morgue just so I can visualize everything about her presence on Earth. I think about the nurse taking her there after we said good-bye, them moving her to the fridges to preserve her little body. Her waiting there until the mortuary came and picked her up the next day. Her ride to the mortuary. How they transported her there, I don't know. Her waiting at the mortuary until her funeral on Monday. Them putting her in her casket and preparing her for us to see her one last time. The viewing room was small, but perfect. She looked beautiful in her little white casket. She looked like she was sleeping and looked comfy. The kids had no fear. When we entered the room, they ran right up to her casket and looked in at her with smiles. We touched her and admired her. We showed her off to our family that came to say their good-byes. We were proud of her. It all seems so wrong and so twisted in a way, but it also seems so right. The whole experience was so far from being ok and normal. We just did the best we could given the situation. When it was time, Ken carried her to her grave, with Nathan as an honorary pallbearer by his side. We had the most beautiful service. It was perfect for her. It was heart wrenching and incredibly hard too. The kids cried, Ken cried. I didn't. I don't know why, but I didn't cry at her funeral. I had already cried so much, and I didn't want to cry then. Still, I have cried for her every day since she died. I never knew I could miss someone so much or long for them with every bit of my soul.

I try not to spend too much time thinking like this. It will only drive me crazy and it hurts way too much. The what if's and the what might have been's. It won't change anything and she can't come back. I try to think of her as happy and having fun. I don't want to think about how hard she fought the last few weeks of her life. Her silent battle that we had no idea she was fighting. I know she is at peace now and not in pain or scared or lonely.

Sometimes, I get frustrated that we didn't keep her longer. Why? There was no hurry. Everything felt so rushed with her, but in reality, we had as much time as we wanted. Who cares if we were tired, we would never have another chance to have those moments. I really wish that the kids got to hold her. They had wanted to and if I had been clearer in my head, I would have made sure that they did. We only had such a short time with her. So so short. No time would ever be enough, I know that. But what I would give to hold her just one more time.