Empty Arms

 "I left the hospital with empty arms..."

...is a phrase I have seen a lot from moms who have given birth to a stillborn baby.

I remember leaving the hospital and my arms felt so heavy.  And I wondered how they could feel so heavy when they were empty.  I wasn't holding onto anything, but I felt like I could barely lift them.

As I've researched and read of others' experiences of leaving the hospital without their baby, I found that the feeling is called "Empty Arm Syndrome."

Many different websites describe it different ways.  After a woman has a miscarriage, gives birth to a stillborn baby, or their baby has passed away from SIDS, they may experience aching arms and feel a need to fill them somehow.  Some women need to sleep with a teddy bear, others want to hold other babies all the time, and others can't bear to look at a baby for a long time.  For me, it took awhile to even be able to look at a baby.  Also, for weeks I had to sleep with the baby blue blanket that the woman gave me in the hospital.

I still have that empty arm syndrome, especially lately.  Whenever I feel my baby kick or move, my arms ache.  I want to not just feel him inside of me, but I want to feel him outside of me.  I want to feel his weight in my arms and fill them up.  I want to give him endless kisses and hugs and never set him down.

I remember when the nurse set Alma in my arms.  It was almost surreal.  I couldn't believe that he had been inside of me only moments before and then there he was in my arms.  He was a baby.  And he wasn't just a baby, but he was my baby.  I had carried him for almost 9 months, and like a miracle, there he was.

I long for the weight of a baby in my arms again.  And not just the weight of any baby, because that's just too hard right now.  But I long for the weight of my baby again.

As I've thought about the empty arm syndrome and about Alma being in heaven with our Savior and Heavenly Father, I've thought about how Lehi described his feelings in The Book of Mormon:

• "But behold, the Lord hath redeemed my soul from hell; I have beheld his glory, and I am encircled about eternally in the arms of his love" (2 Nephi 1:15, emphasize added).

And also God's promise to Oliver Cowdery:

• "Behold, thou art Oliver, and I have spoken unto thee because of thy desires; therefore treasure up these words in thy heart. Be faithful and diligent in keeping the commandments of God, and I will encircle thee in the arms of my love" (D&C 6:20, emphasize added).

I'm so grateful that the Lord's arms are never empty - He is always encircling one of us in the arms of His love.

I pray that my arms will also never be empty, even now.  That I can hold my husband, that I can hold my children, that I can hold someone who is hurting, and that I can hold dear the things that are eternal.

And I'll forever be grateful for the knowledge that Alma is safe and happy and in our Savior's loving arms.

"Arms now empty will be filled, and hearts now hurting from broken dreams and yearning will be healed." 
(Boyd K. Packer, "The Witness," 2014)

 http://www.altusfineart.com/home/afa/smartlist_277/simon_dewey_in_his_constant_care.html

Good resource:
"Coping with the Heartache of Miscarriage"

25 Weeks: It Could Happen

There I was lying on my back...again...thinking of what brought me back here...again.

Fear, anxiety, what if's, knowing that it could happen...again...at any moment.

Just the day before, I was at work thinking of the projects in front of me. But always in the back of my mind I was thinking of the baby inside of me.

He wasn't moving...again.

I knew the tricks of the trade from my last pregnancy to get him moving again.  Poke my stomach, drink something cold, eat something sugary, turn on some music...

Seeing as I wanted to remain professional while on the clock, I refrained from turning on hard-rock music full blast and instead resorted to quietly guzzling cold water and eating Dove chocolate (a favorite of the office).

A small jab, a quick punch, then...nothing.

It seemed like I couldn't get the baby to wake up.  It was starting to worry me because he normally jumps around like crazy.

I fought down the panic that was attempting to surface and told myself that after work I would go home, lie on my left side, and drink more cold water.

Instead, I went home and made dinner - I didn't want to have to face going to the doctor for an unscheduled heartbeat check...again.  So, I did anything but try to feel the baby move.  I even did the dishes after dinner.

Jayze came home from work, and I tried to be positive and focus on what he was saying, but more and more thoughts of worry pushed themselves from the back of my mind to the forefront and I couldn't concentrate.

Was the baby okay?  Was he just resting?  WHY WASN'T HE KICKING???

I finally told Jayze what was on my mind and told him - more to reassure myself - that I hadn't felt the baby move very much that day, but everything was probably okay.  That because I had eaten so much sugar that day to try to wake him up, he was probably in a sugar coma.

Still, I laid down on the couch, drank some hot chocolate (yes, we still have cold days in June - it's Rexburg), and prayed to feel the baby move.

There!  Another jab, another half-hearted punch, then...nothing.  Again.

Why did there have to be nothing?  What had happened to my acrobatic little man?

"The first sign of something wrong is the heartbeat slowing down," the nurse's voice echoed in my head.  

 Jayze remained calm, while every part of me felt worried and tense.  He let me know later that he was scared too, but he felt like he needed to be there to reassure me.  

I went to bed that night with worry still weighing on my mind.  Every time I woke up, I craved to feel the baby move, but he didn't.  There was no movement, and I couldn't just let it go.  I kept thinking, "What if it happens again?  What if I go to the doctor tomorrow morning and there's no heartbeat?  I've been kidding myself...of course it could happen again."  I woke up in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom, and I just felt like something was wrong.  Before that night I had been able to feel the baby move every time I woke up, but this night was different.

The next morning, I went back and forth in my mind wondering if I should go to the doctor...again.  Wondering if I could face their questioning glances...again.  Wondering if they would roll their eyes and think, "Here comes that crazy, anxious lady...again."

But I needed the reassurance.  I needed to know if this baby was okay or not.  I had felt him move a few times, but I wondered if the cord was around his neck and that's why he wasn't moving as much.

"The first sign of something wrong is the heartbeat slowing down..."

I told Jayze, "I can't do this.  I can't do it if it happens again."  He held me and let me know he was there and he would go to the doctor's office with me.

We decided to go.  I called my supervisor at work and let her know I was going to be a little late because I had to get a heartbeat check.  I had to.

So there we were in the doctor's office...again.  Me lying on my back, anxiously waiting for the nurse to put the heart doppler on my belly so we could all be reassured that everything was okay.

She placed the heart doppler on my belly, I held my breath, and then...there it was...again.

My baby's heartbeat.

The nurse let us listen for awhile, and my baby's heartbeat was music to my ears.  My belly kept moving around, enough to where Jayze and the nurse could see it on the outside, and I said, "Of course he starts showing off when we come to the doctor's."

As we exited the office and Jayze opened the door for me to get in the car, I couldn't hold it in any longer.  I started to cry...again.  Jayze held my hand as I cried and asked me, "Are you glad we went?"

 I said, "Yes...and no.  I don't want to be that person who constantly worries all the time.  I don't want the nurses to be mad when I come in because I come in all the time."

Jayze responded, "Remember what your work told you?  'Don't be afraid of man - fear God more than man.'  Don't worry about what anyone else thinks.  We need to do what's best for us in our situation.  You're not crazy."
 
During the weeks that Jayze and I have known we are pregnant, a nagging, ugly thought has always been in the back of my mind, "It could happen again, y'know."  I hate that it can happen again.  I hate not knowing what went wrong last time because it seems like there is no way to make things right this time.  All I can do is do some things the same and change other things, hoping it will be enough and that this baby will be okay.

Knowing that it could happen again brought me to another thought.  One that the character, J.P., in one of my favorite movies, Angels in the Outfield, is constantly saying. 

He is always saying, "Hey, it could happen," in a positive light.  As if all of your dreams can come true.  As if no matter how weird, crazy, strange, or hard your dream may be, it can happen.  Here is this foster kid who, despite all odds, believes in miracles.  Despite how incredulous and hard it is for others to believe that his friend, Roger, sees angels in the outfield, J.P. believes without a doubt because in his mind, "...it could happen."

Turning "it could happen" from a negative to a positive light has suddenly made all the difference.  I can suddenly turn, "It could happen that this baby won't make it either," to "It could happen that I can take the baby home."

It could happen that I'll get to see the color of his eyes.  It could happen that I'll get to raise him here.  It could happen that I'll get to see him smile, laugh, walk, run, talk, be sassy, learn, drive, play sports, go on a date, graduate high school, go on a mission, get married, have children...

And even though bad things "could happen" to people or people could let bad things happen to them, it could also happen that those same people will

• become stronger because of their trials
• change a bad habit
• establish a good habit
• make good choices
• find a job
• heal from a broken heart
• win first place
• climb a mountain
• heal from the death of a loved one
• have the strength to support and serve a loved one with health issues
• run a marathon
• find peace in a scary world
• raise eight children
• say no to a temptation
• graduate college
• get married
• overcome addictions
• heal from a divorce
• forgive and forget
• live their dreams
• stand strong on their own two feet knowing they're on God's side and God is on their side.

Because "it could happen" really only matters if you're looking at it from the positive side.  Satan is wiley and crafty and mean and is a deceiver.  He wants you to only look at your insecurities and doubts and persuade you to look at "it could happen" in only a negative light.  He is powerful...but...so are you.  In fact, you are more powerful than anything evil or hard in this world, as long as you have God on your side.  But it's your choice. 

“Choose you this day whom ye will serve;" (Joshua 24:15)

Because despite all odds, even when you can't see it with your own eyes, angels will attend you.

15: And when the servant of the man of God was risen early, and gone forth, behold, an host compassed the city both with horses and chariots. And his servant said unto him, Alas, my master! how shall we do?

16: And he answered, Fear not: for they that be with us are more than they that be with them.
17: And Elisha prayed, and said, Lord, I pray thee, open his eyes, that he may see. And the Lord opened the eyes of the young man; and he saw: and, behold, the mountain was full of horses and chariots of fire round about Elisha.

(2 Kings 6:15-17)

We do not walk alone.  And one day, I will get to see my angel Alma again.  Maybe even in a few months my dream of holding his little brother in my arms - alive, well, and breathing - will come true.

Hey, it could happen. 

"In the course of life all of us spend time in “dark and dreary” places, wildernesses, circumstances of sorrow or fear or discouragement. Our present day is filled with global distress over financial crises, energy problems, terrorist attacks, and natural calamities...More serious than these—and sometimes related to them—are matters of ethical, moral, and spiritual decay seen in populations large and small, at home and abroad. But I testify that angels are still sent to help us, even as they were sent to help Adam and Eve, to help the prophets, and indeed to help the Savior of the world Himself" 

("The Ministry of Angels," October 2008).

~Jeffrey R. Holland~

Forcing Myself

I was looking on the school bulletin board the other day in the baby genre, and I saw that a girl was selling a big bag of baby boy clothes.  I thought to myself, "Well, I know we need some clothes, and it's a pretty good deal."

So, I emailed her.

I asked her if any of the items were long-sleeved and how many were in the bag, and she replied that most of the things in the bag were long-sleeved and there were about 50 clothing items.  Since I'm having a Fall/Winter baby and since we live in Rexburrrrrrrrrrg (negative degree weather), I thought, "Score!" and got the girl's address so I could go take a look at the clothes in person.

She texted me her address, and I hopped in the car after work and went looking for it.  I finally found it, parked my car, and found her outside sweeping her front steps with a little boy closely standing by.  I introduced myself again, and she led me to where the clothes were.

There inside was another little baby.  He was so cute and, come to find out later, was only about 3 months old.

I didn't realize how hard it would be to not stare at him.  Even though Alma would have been about 9 months old, the little jolts and punches I get in my stomach when I unexpectedly see a baby boy still surprise me.

The girl was super nice.  She went into a room and brought out the clothes.  As I grabbed the huge garbage bag and dumped out the clothes on her couch, I had to blink back some unexpected tears.  What was wrong with me?  I didn't want to cry in front of this stranger who probably thought I would be crazy just crying in front of some baby boy clothes instead of oooing and ahhhing.

I was able to gain control of myself and kept myself distracted by asking her some questions and trying not to focus on the baby clothes too much.

Then the question from her came.

"Is this your first pregnancy?"

I said, "No, this is my second."

"Oh, then you must have had a girl."

I shook my head and said, "No, we had a baby boy."  

I knew what was coming, but wasn't sure I wanted to spoil her happiness and cause an inevitable awkward silence, so I kept going through the clothes and avoided eye contact.

She went on, "Well, he must have been a summer baby."

There was no escape.  I braced myself and told her, "No, he was born in the winter.  But he was...he was stillborn."

Silence.

"Oh."

I kind of babbled on and said, "Yeah, so we didn't really have a chance to, you know, get clothes for him."

Which was kind of a lie because I was 37 weeks when Alma passed away and we had plenty of opportunities to get clothes for him.  I guess it was kind of a tender mercy we didn't buy very many things for Alma because we didn't spend tons of money and I only had a box full of baby things to pack away out of sight instead of a room full of baby things.

I announced that I would buy the clothes, gave her the money, said thank you, and walked out.  I was sad that yet again, I had to explain that this was my second baby but technically the first one I'm raising.  Lately, I just feel bad about making it awkward for other people.  I know that if I had Alma here and someone told me they had had a stillborn, I wouldn't know what to say either.  What can you say?  "I'm sorry" just doesn't seem to cut it.

But what was also going through my mind as I walked away with the bag of clothes in hand was that I wasn't happy about my purchase.  I came home, dumped the bag in the spare bedroom on the floor, and closed the door on my way out.  When I told Jayze what I had bought, I half-heartedly asked him, "Do you want to see what they look like?"

The excitement just wasn't there.  Whenever I start thinking about all the baby things we didn't buy for Alma that we will need for this baby, I wonder if there's even a point to buying it.  

I don't want to have to pack away a huge pack 'n play, a stroller, a high chair, a car seat, diapers, pacifiers, wipes...

I realized that I have been forcing myself to look at baby things on the bulletin board, forcing myself to walk through the baby section at Walmart, forcing myself to prepare for a baby that I might not have the chance to raise here in this life.  I think of the money I have that could be spent on the baby, but find myself wanting to spend it on Jayze and me instead.  

And maybe it will be okay in the end...but how do I know for sure?  I realize that I really don't know for sure.  No one knows for sure.  I wish my doctors knew.  I wish Jayze knew.  I wish I knew.  But we don't.  

Only Heavenly Father knows the outcome.  He is the one who knows whether I will get to bring this second baby home with me or not.  

Sometimes I wish He would just tell me.  Just give my hand a squeeze and let me know that everything is going to be okay.

But then I realize that He has already done that.  He has already let me know that no matter what happens with this next baby, everything is going to be okay.  Even if things turn out exactly the same as last time, it will somehow all be okay.  

It's going to be okay because I have Him on my side, and He knows what is best for this baby - not me.   

So right now, I'm just going to keep forcing myself.  I'm going to get the clothes, the diapers, the wipes, the pack 'n play, the stroller, the car seat, decorations for the baby's room.  I'm going to help Jayze put the crib together, clean it, and put crib bedding in it.  I'm going to keep having faith and hope that I'll get to raise this baby here right now.

Because when I finally get to hold this second baby boy in my arms, I will know that all the pain, all the worry, all the heartache, all the stress, all the tears, all the sleepless nights, all the "what if's," all the doctor's appointments, all the pleadings, all of it will be worth it. 

“It isn't as bad as you sometimes think it is. It all works out. Don't worry. I say that to myself every morning. It all works out in the end. Put your trust in God, and move forward with faith and confidence in the future. The Lord will not forsake us. He will not forsake us. If we will put our trust in Him, if we will pray to Him, if we will live worthy of His blessings, He will hear our prayers.” 

~Gordon B. Hinckley ~

22 Weeks: Update

-Baby Update-

Size: One pound.  The size of a spaghetti squash. 

Has: Eyelashes, eyebrows, and maybe some hair.

Can: Tell the difference between light and dark.  He can also hear. 

There are a lot of similarities and differences between this pregnancy and my pregnancy with Alma.

Like I've said in my previous posts, this second baby kicks quite a bit, and I love it!  Some days he kicks more than others, and I love the days when he kicks a lot.  I told Jayze that I don't care if this baby breaks one of my ribs just as long as he comes out alive!

Some other differences include:

• I've gone to the bathroom more during my 2nd trimester.  Last pregnancy, I went to the bathroom a lot during my first and third trimester - not so much my second.
• My hips hurt more.
• I'm gaining way more weight all over.
• I swell easier in my hands, ankles, and feet.
• I cry a LOT more easily as well as more, and I can't seem to stop when I start.  So most of church consists of biting the inside of my cheek or playing with my hands to distract myself so I don't turn into a water fountain for the next two hours.  
• I crave sweets way more, especially chocolate.  We may have a chocoholic on our hands.  I can't seem to get enough of chocolate shakes.  
• I'm showing a lot faster - about a month faster - than last time.  It's kind of nice though because I have somewhere to put my hands and I finally have a reason to be fat.
• I have had weird dreams a lot earlier and way more graphic during this pregnancy.  I didn't get weird dreams until my third trimester last time, and they were not nearly as graphic as my dreams this time.  
•  We have already named this little man.  We didn't name Alma until two days before he was born.  

Similarities include:

• I still get SUPER dry skin.  All over.
• I crave watermelon like no other.  I could seriously eat a whole, cut up watermelon in one day if it was just sitting in front of me.
• I still can't eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches because it reminds me of my morning sickness with Alma.  The weird thing though is I can eat peanut butter and jelly toast. 
• My hair and nails are growing really fast.
• I have lots of energy during this second trimester, which has been so nice.  

I love this little guy so much.  Hang in there buddy.