Five years ago today, I woke up at 4 am. I sat straight up in bed as my heart sunk and my stomach turned to knots. I felt her go.

I just stayed in bed until Mike was ready to leave for work. I was practically in tears at that time, telling him something was wrong. I was worried about the baby. He assured me everything was fine, gave me a kiss and left.

I got up and took a shower. No movement.

I drank a glass of ice water. No movement.

At 10:00, I called my doctor asking if I could come in. They tried to calm my nerves by telling me babies just have sleepy days, don’t worry about it. The triage nurse told me to take a bag of frozen veggies from the freezer and lay it on my belly to get her to move. She said to rub my belly a lot and try to stimulate her.

I massaged my belly. No movement.

I tried frozen peas on my belly for half an hour. Still nothing.

An hour later I called them back and said I still felt nothing. They told me to come in at 1:00. I called Mike at work and asked him to come home to take me to the doctor. He was irritated and said he would see what he could do. I called my Dad to see if he could take me, but he couldn’t. I called Tyrus, and he said he would try to make it.

I waited.

12:45 showed and neither Mike or Tyrus had arrived. I grabbed my bag and locked the house. As I started to walk the 15 or so blocks to the doctor’s office, finally Mike pulled up, with Tyrus behind him. We told Tyrus he could go home and off we went.

We waited.

We were a write-in, so I waited in the waiting room for an hour before I could see my doctor. I finally got in. Hopped up on the exam table and waited to hear that sound coming from the doppler.

Static.

Wait, there’s a heartbeat! My doctor grabbed my wrist, and it matched my pulse. It was just my heartbeat. After a few minutes, nothing but static and my own heartbeat. He made a call to the hospital in Carbondale to get me in for an emergency ultrasound. We left, knowing our hopes and dreams had died.

We got to the hospital, checked in and got back to Imaging. Ultrasound Room #2. This room would bring me bad news later on as well. The ultrasound technician moved the screen so that I could not see it. Everything happened so fast. She took a few pictures and said she would be right back. I sat up, and saw the screen. It had all my information on it, but it was black. It was ominous, foreboding.

She brought a portable phone back into the room and told me that my doctor would call, to answer it when it rings. I did, and at that moment, it was final.

I talked to my doctor, he gave us the news that our baby had died. He told me that I had two options, to be induced that day or wait to go into labor on my own. I had no idea what to do, so I asked him what would be better. He said that it would be easier on my body to wait to go into labor on my own, so I decided on that.

The technician came back into the room, she put her hand on my back as we left the room and told me she was sorry. She pointed us to an exit where we wouldn’t have to go back through the hospital.

We got into our car and just sat there, stunned. How could this have happened? This was the worst news we could ever hear. It was a long, solemn drive home.

We got home and called immediate family members to tell them the news. I didn’t want to talk to anyone. I don’t really remember anything past that, we were both in shock.

Five years ago today, I woke up like any other morning. Happily pregnant, ready to start the day. I was actually feeling pretty good. My hyperemesis was finally going away.

I did my morning routine, grabbed some DVD’s and started to head out the door. I remember that day so well. I was wearing my One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish short overalls & a maroon tank top. I walked down the street and passed our church. When I got to the corner, I was waiting on traffic to clear so I could cross the street. My pastor pulled up beside me. I gave him a smile and went on my way.

I walked up a few more blocks and dropped the DVD’s in the return slot at Blockbuster, turned around and started to head back home. On my way back I stopped at a convenience store and bought a 32 ounce Dr Pepper. All that walking made me thirsty. I stood at the counter, rubbing my belly while waiting in line.

I walked back home and the rest of the day was like usual. I chatted online, made dinner for DH when he got home. My baby moved a little but by the end of the day she was very quiet. I got a little worried but figured everything was fine. I went to bed that night, not knowing how different my life would be the next day.

First of all, I finally got my lab results!! Everything looked fine except I have a Vitamin D deficiency. So, I got a prescription for a supplement and we’ll see how that goes. Hopefully it’ll fix things, but I’m not holding my breath. We’ll see. I’m going to weigh in the morning. Also, AF finally arrived, and she’s just about gone. Am I being spared the month long torture I’ve been going through?

So, I’ve been doing a lot of thinking lately. Mariam’s birthday is coming up, in one month exactly. You might think that it’s just the one day that I might be down, but it’s not. It’s like a two week event that happens each year… or longer. I start to feel sad in August (yes, that’s now) and don’t feel better until late September.

I don’t just feel sad on her birthday. I wish I did.

I felt her move for the last time on September 2. She died on September 3. I was induced on September 8. She was stillborn on September 10. Finally, she was buried on September 15. That’s two full weeks of hell. It’ll never be just one day. Every year, I relive that two week period. I think about what happened on each day, what I did each day. Picking out a name, writing an obituary, things no parent should ever have to do.

I wish it were just one day, but it’s not.

I have called the health center every day since last Tuesday and I stil have no results. I was actually there today because I had to take the boys for their physicals and I requested copies of the results, and they still would not give them to me. I had to sign a release form and they said to try back tomorrow. Ugh. I’m so frustrated right now. It’s never this hard. Anytime one of us has bloodwork or whatever, I just call and get the results. This time, they won’t give them to me, they say the doctor hasn’t released it. What’s the hold up? Oh, in case you were wondering, the boys’ physicals were uneventful. They are doing great.

On to other news, September is approaching fast. This is not good. I feel a little more anxious each day, and have started Wellbutrin again. If I know myself, here in about 3 weeks, I’ll probably start to go downhill emotionally and this really does help. I haven’t been to the cemetery since last September, for her birthday. Not Christmas, or even Memorial Day. I just haven’t went. Life has gotten very busy and it’s hard for me to make it over there. I will make time soon. Probably in September. We’ll take her daisies and balloons, as usual. I can’t believe she would have been five this year. How does time slip away like that?

Mom & I painted Annabelle’s new room. It’s pink and purplish-blue. It’s really cute. After it’s done, I’ll post pics. For now it’s a work in progress.

The boys’ birthday party was fun. They had a Buzz Lightyear Pizza Party. I can’t believe they are 4. Seems like yesterday we were fighting to keep them from being born too early.

We’re having a yard sale this weekend to raise money for The MOM Project. We have a ton of stuff… hopefully that will bring in some money! I’m pricing everything super cheap so it moves fast!

We took the kids with us to the cemetery today for the first time. Mariam's birthday is tomorrow, she would have been 4 years old. We've never taken the kids with us, but we both agreed that it was time. I want them to know that they had a sister, it would be an awful shock if they found out years down the road, I would think. Growing up, I always knew that not only did my mom lose a baby, but my aunt lost 3. I think it was easier to know all along that they had died. I knew my cousin had a twin, and that was that, it had always been so.

I didn't know how to tell them, and I don't know that they'd understand anyway. Mike just told them that we were taking the flowers and balloons to their sister, and they seemed to be fine with that, they even enjoyed it.

The daisies have a special meaning. The day of Mariam's funeral, my brother brought me a bouquet of "Crazy Daisies." It's basically daisies that have been dyed brilliant colors. After two weeks, the daisies were still alive, so I figured they needed to go to Mariam, and I took them to the cemetery for her, where they lived at least another week or two. Since then, daisies have had a special meaning for me, and they are even the symbol for The MOM Project.

Here are some pics from today: