Happy New Year.....

Jer 29:11 (NIV) "For I know the plans I have for you," declares the Lord, "plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future."


This scripture brings me comfort and hope as we head into the New Year. I bring with me all these wonderful gifts my sweet Hannah has given me and look forward to what the Lord has in store for me in 2010. I pray also for the paths of all my new dear friends who share in this terrible heartache. Thank you all for your love and support, for sharing God's Word and Hope, for honoring my precious daughter and remembering her with me.
 
Happy New Year!

Nope. Still Raining.

You might as well rip my heart right out of my chest, God.

I thought I found a rainbow. Turns out it is just more rain.

I found out I was pregnant again on December 1. What a blessing. Truly, I was being blessed. Everything seemed wonderful until December 18. At my ultrasound the baby was measuring 10 days behind. I would have to wait until Christmas Eve morning to see if the baby had grown, or had stopped growing.

It was a difficult 6 days but I trusted it to God. I hoped for the best but prepared for the worst. And then, a Christmas miracle. The baby had grown right on schedule! Oh praise God for the wonderous things He does.....

Only to take this child away, too. I started bleeding on Sunday and miscarried Monday morning.

Now I am really struggling. Why? I was just beginning to truly feel and see the beauty and purpose in the loss of Hannah. I was grasping at that hope. I was pulling myself back up.

I'm slipping right back down this hole.

No rainbow. Just rain.

Merry Christmas.....

Tomorrow is a special day. The day Jesus was born. I know it is not going to be an easy day for many of us, but I wish you all peace and joy and pray for the comfort that only God can bring.

There are a couple of random things that I would just like to share as well. First, this amazing quote that I heard on an episode of Criminal Minds of all places, that really struck a chord with me. It's author is Washington Irving and I just think it is absolutely beautiful.

“There is a sacredness in tears. They are not the mark of weakness, but of power. They speak more eloquently than ten thousand tongues. They are messengers of overwhelming grief...and unspeakable love.”

Isn't that amazing? Our tears are strength. Our love is so incredibly deep.

Another thing I would like to share is this article on God during the loss of your child. It addresses so many of the feelings we go through and the place of God in each of them. I was very glad I stumbled across this and would just like to share if anyone was interested.

http://www.forgottengrief.com/Godbaby.html

Again I wish you all a Merry Christmas and many blessings. I feel truly blessed and thankful to have met so many wonderful women to share this difficult path with.

And the winners are.....

Oh, so I've decided EVERYONE is going to win something. I've read some incredible stories about all of you incredible women and your angels. So if everyone who commented could email me your full name and address along with the full name(s) of your angel(s) and dates as well as the color that most reminds you of them. My email is klarsen17@yahoo.com.

Now, onto the winners of the boxes and the runner-ups. These were all picked by my almost 2 year old son.....

A memory box goes to Karen, mommy of Rebekah.

A memory box goes to Nicole, mommy of Patrick

Runners up are (special surprise!).....
DQD, mommy of Isaac, Holly, mommy of Carleigh and kc, mommy of Nathan.

Please email me the same info from above plus what color fabric you would most like.

I look forward to hearing from you all and thank you for all of the comments. Wishing you the comfort and peace of God and a blessed Christmas!

Katy

25 Days of Giveaways.....3 Months in Heaven

Welcome to Day 25 of the 25 Days of Giveaways, the brilliant idea of Tina at Living Without Sophia & Ellie!

NOTE: These giveaways are open to all baby lost mamas. If you didn't sign up to host a giveaway we still want you to participate and try to win some of these GREAT items. We want to spread happiness to everyone, not just those who are hosting a day!

This day has come quickly upon me. Not only is it my day to host, but it is also the day my daughter left us 3 months ago. I was glad when I found out the 21st would be my day.

Since losing Hannah I have started making memory boxes for hospitals with my Delivering Hope project. We never received a memory box for her and I have so many things that remind me of her or that we have done, pictures, dried flowers, you name it, that the original one I began putting these mementos in is practically full! Well I just finished a new, bigger one for Hannah and for a friend of mine and thought wouldn't it be great to custom make one for another angel's mommy as my giveaway. So here it is. The pictures are of Hannah's box. I would burn your baby's name on the corner and pick an inside fabric based upon the colors/theme you choose. If you have more than one angel I will do a box for each of them. There will also be some prizes inside which I am not going to reveal! AND there will be a few "runner-ups" for another special item! After all, it IS Christmas and Christmas is all about giving!

Just leave me a comment with the name of your angel and the most special item you have that would go inside this box! I am looking forward to reading all of your stories. God Bless! Katy

This Christmas

"Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him." Job 13:15a

My thoughts exactly. He has brought me farther than my knees. He has thrown me on my back. I have nowhere else to look but up. And I trust.

I wrote out a Christmas card for my grandma the other day. "This Christmas is not going to be what I expected it to be, but life never is. I just have to keep my faith in the light of Jesus." I stared at what I wrote for a minute. Wow. Did I really just write that? My grandma is a very faithful woman. I have always admired that about her. I always wanted her to be proud of me. I would always write an awkward "God Bless" at the end of my letters to her. I always felt it seemed to not coincide with the rest of my letter. It lacked the meaning it was meant to portray. But this card, this message seemed to roll so smoothly off the pen and onto the paper. And it's meaning was so incredibly significant. Wow.

This Christmas will not be as I expected at all. I will not be big bellied and full of dreams. I am not that innocent anymore. But this Christmas has more meaning to me than any other ever has. I still do have dreams, just different ones. And I am full of hope and the love that only Jesus can give.

Not backwards.

I'm not taking a step backwards, I just want to take a step back. I am haunted by this thought and just need to put it out there and let go of it.

I read a story the other day of another woman's pregnancy. She developed an infection at 17 weeks causing her cervix to dialate. They put her on antibiotics and bedrest for the rest of her pregnancy. She has her daughter here with her.

My cervix dialated at 18 weeks. I had an infection. Why didn't my doctor put me on antibiotics??!!! This is just tearing me apart right now. I have to let go of it. It is not what happened. I can't go back now. Hannah is gone and trying to find cures to problems with a pregnancy that no longer exists is useless. It only hurts more. So I put this thought out there. I cannot hold onto it anymore. It will probably just drive me crazy.

I am learning that when I stop to look back and analyze things I reopen parts that were trying to heal. I need to just keep my focus on solely looking back to her. Looking back at the beautiful dance recitals she put on during ultrasounds. Look back to that last ultrasound where she waved to us. Waving goodbye.

Goodbye Mommy, Daddy, Bobby. Don't cry. Don't be sad. I am on my way to Heaven. I am going to a perfect place where I will never shed a tear or feel pain. I am going to the place where you will go also. When our time comes to be together. And I love you.

Hannah, Mommy loves you more than words can ever describe. I miss you. I ache for you and what should have been.

But isn't.

Many Blessings

I am truly blessed to be surrounded by so many wonderful and thoughtful women. Yesterday my husband and I had a wonderful couple over who we met at our bereavement group. We have quickly become great friends and I am very thankful for this friendship and this bond. In my heart I feel this friendship was made first in Heaven by our two little girls. They gave us this beautiful water globe. It is engraved saying, "Hannah Katherine Larsen, Born in Heaven, 9/21/2009". The pictures do it absolutely no justice. It even lights up and plays "The Lord is my Shepard". Thank you so much!

Then I get the mail today and am greeted with three wonderful surprises! Jeanette over at The Lazy Seamstress made me this beautiful heart! Since it has a string I have added it to my Christmas tree! Thank you so much, Jeanette!

I also received the ornament I won in 25 Days of Giveaways! It was handmade by Lea at Nicholas' Touch. Thank you so much, Lea! It is absolutely beautiful!

Last, but certainly not least, a sweet surprise from my new friend Andrea over at Life, Love & Persuit of our Fairytale... I have found great support and friendship in her and really appreciate the beautiful wings she made for my daughter. I have placed them on the Christmas tree as well. Thank you so much Andrea!

This has been the most difficult part of my life journey, losing Hannah. I am very thankful for the love and support of so many amazing women. The road is not as lonely traveling it together.

Praise You in This Storm by The Casting Crowns

I have listened to this song over and over during these past 2+ months. It is absolutely beautiful and inspiring.

Heaven is the Face by Steven Curtis Chapman

Silence

Have you ever sat in the silence, maybe you can hear the wind blow quietly in the background or a neighbor's dog looking to be let in, but it is a silence you can feel? Maybe because you strain for sound a hum fills your ears but you can still feel that silence? Wrapped in a quiet world of stillness with only background noises that are so monotonous they too become inaudible. The silence almost becomes a tangible thing you grasp for.

Rocking in Bobby's glider as he drifts off to sleep, I hear his breathing growing heavy, his CD player whispering lullabies, the clicking of the glider as I rock forward than back. It is a comfortable silence. One I feel peaceful being in.

I remember my anguish as I delivered our little girl. We knew that our cries, my husband's and mine, would be the only ones we would hear. Otherwise we would be left to sit in silence with our Hannah. I remember that silence well. I remember that feeling, that cold, tangible realization of our new reality. Our cries were the monotonous background noise in an endless silence that still envelopes me. Sometimes it still causes me to shutter and strain my ears- if only to just stir up that hum.

This is our new life. We have a daughter in Heaven. That is a very heavy statement. I praise God for my daughter every day. I would do it all again just for those few moments we spent together in that life changing silence.

This song was sung at the beautiful Christmas memorial we attended last week in honor of all the babies gone too soon and our angel, Hannah. I think it is absolutely beautiful and makes me cry, smile and sigh every time I hear it.

"To Where You Are"

Who can say for certain

Maybe you're still here

I feel you all around me

Your memory, so clear

Deep in the stillness

I can hear you speak

You're still an inspiration

Can it be

That you are mine

Forever love

And you are watching over me from up above

Fly me up to where you are

Beyond the distant star

I wish upon tonight

To see you smile

If only for awhile to know you're there

A breath away not far

To where you are

Are you gently sleeping

Here inside my dream

And isn't faith believing

All power can't be seen

As my heart holds you

Just one beat away

I cherish all you gave me everyday

'Cause you are my

Forever love

Watching me from up above

And I believe

That angels breathe

And that love will live on and never leave

Fly me up

To where you are

Beyond the distant star

I wish upon tonight

To see you smile

If only for awhile

To know you're there

A breath away not far

To where you are

I know you're there

A breath away not far

To where you are

Her Place.....

Last night in my grief Bible study group we were talking about the place our babies hold in our families. I have been thinking about this a lot since then.

Hannah's place will always be as my daughter. But if your daughter is not here, how do people know she is your daughter? I know she is my daughter. If she is not the first thought on my mind, she is the second. That is the farthest she travels. In my heart and soul I feel her all around me. Her presense, her spirit still lives in me. I know she is with me. You just can't see her. So how do you know about my daughter?

I want Hannah's tangible existence to be in the works I do. I want her soul to shine through the things I create in her honor. I want other people to feel her spirit, her presense which I pour out into my work. That is her place. Her place as my daughter. She has made me a much, much better person than I had ever dreamed. She has shown me a sorrowful, desperate, despaired side of life where I have met the most wonderful, faithful and compassionate people. And she has made me one of them.

Thank you, Hannah. Mommy loves you and misses you so very, very much.

With Warm Thoughts.....

I lit this candle today to honor Russell Elliot, son of Brandy at Forever Elliot's Mommy. Today is the day Elliot was supposed to be born. Hugs, Brandy. I am thinking of both of you.

Thinking of You.....

Tonight I lit this candle to honor Christian, son of Andrea at Life, Love & Persuit of our Fairytale.... Today is the day Christian was supposed to be born. Hugs, Andrea. I am thinking of both of you.

A Reminder of God's Presense

Last night we attended a beautiful memorial service to honor our Hannah and all of the other angels in Heaven. One mother read this beautiful poem that I wanted to share. It helped me to remember the heavenly life which she is living now and also to appreciate the many gifts she has and is continuing to give me- especially that of bringing Heaven closer to me.

The Tiny Rosebud

The Master Gardener from Heaven above

Planted a seed in the garden of love

And from it grew a rosebud small

That never had time to open at all

For God in His perfect and all wise way

Chose this rose for his heavenly bouquet

So think of your darling with the angels above

Secure and contented and surrounded by love

And remember that God blessed and enriched your lives too

For in dying, your darling brought Heaven closer to you.

~Author Unknown

25 Days of Giveaways!

Tina at Living without Sophia & Ellie came up with this wonderful idea of 25 Days of Giveaways. So 26 (we have an extra!) wonderful women are going to participate and try to spread a little Christmas cheer to those of us who could really use a little this year! Click the 25 Days of Giveaways button to find out which blog to enter at each day!

I am Day 25, which falls on December 21, the 3 month anniversary of my daughter's birth and death. I will be giving away one of her special memory boxes from Delivering Hope! Be sure to stop back here on this day to enter!

Good Luck to everyone! God Bless!

NOTE: These giveaways are open to all baby lost mamas. If you didn't sign up to host a giveaway we still want you to participate and try to win some of these GREAT items. We want to spread happiness to everyone, not just those who are hosting a day!

Numb?

I guess you could best describe my feelings as of recently kind of numb. The numbness does provide some relief from the stinging pain of my loss. But the numbness also disconnects me in a way at the same time. This is not something I have experienced before on this journey. I have to admit, I don't like feeling this way. It actually feels worse than that raw pain yet when I feel that pain coming on I have just been pushing it away. Quickly chasing the thoughts out of my mind. I know why but wonder why at the same time. Am I delaying some massive breakdown by avoiding it? Am I doing what is right and trying to move forward? I am really not sure. I feel a little caught in the middle. Does this at all make sense?

I do notice the absence of the hopelessness. That is incredibly comforting. I know that God is working in me. I have put my hope in Him and He has taken that silent despair right out of my heart. I know there is hope. I know God allows pain. I know it is ok for me to grieve and to hurt and to cry.

Am I trying too hard to push it away? I know it is all still there. I know it is just waiting for me to give it permission to come closer to the surface. I feel it in the background in every waking moment as I shuffle it around in my mind. As I play a game of cat and mouse in my head. As I physically shake it off hoping to avoid what.....the crux of this????? I don't want to go through this all, relive this all again. Is that selfish? I love Hannah. She is my daughter. I still want her with me.

I'm just working on accepting she is not. She never will be.

I wonder if I am just fooling myself.

Footprints.....

Perhaps my grief is leading me to a sort of spiritual awakening. I feel God's presense and the comfort that it brings. I think of those mother's who haven't found the refuge of His arms. I pray for them. He is all you need. He will sustain you.

I followed Hannah's footprints and they led me right to Him. This great and awesome God replaced His footprints with her's to show me the way.

Amen.

Two Months

Dear Hannah,

Tomorrow it will be two months since you left us. The two hardest months of my life.

I just want you to know how very, very much I love you and miss you. I miss all of the possibilities of you. I miss my big belly. I miss singing to you and dreaming of you. I know that is all gone now. I think I have finally accepted that. And I know that as long as I have breath in me we will be apart. But you are always on my mind and always in my heart.

I watch Bobby grow more and more each day. He makes me very proud. I often imagine how proud you would have made me only to realize how much you already have. Your life is changing the life of so many people and will continue to do so. You started by changing mine.

So I have two wonderful children who I couldn't be more proud of. One walks with me on earth. One waits for me in heaven. Someday.

I love you my sweet little angel.

Mommy loves you more than you know.

A little piece of Heaven

When God gave me Hannah, He gave me a little piece of Heaven. I am grateful for that. I am thankful I got to hold her. I am thankful I got to get to know her and bond with her while He was forming her. I am thankful she has peace and I have a piece of Heaven.

Everyday I feel I grow a little. I grow a little stronger through God's grace. I grow a little closer to my Creator. I learn to let a little more go. I learn to try to keep only the good and still praise Him for what I feel is bad. My daughter has given me a wonderful gift. I will forever be grateful.

I wonder.....

I wanted some input from other Baby Lost Mamas. I feel like everyone who loves and cares for me has put this incredible pressure on me to be well. Sometimes I wonder if I am crying in grief or frustration. Sometimes I wonder if I am hurting just from the loss of my daughter or also from the tension and separation I feel in relationships I had that were once close.

Most days I drift through every emotion on this ocean. I feel the usual melancholy that now surrounds my very being, but also satisfaction when I complete something for Hannah. Melancholy, but also frustration from my inability to explain myself. Melancholy, but joy when I watch Bobby accomplish some new task. Guilt for laughing or smiling. Guilt for just breathing sometimes. I wish I could trade with my daughter. Let her laugh, love, smile, breathe.

I wonder if anyone else feels this way. (Heavy Sigh.) It always feels good to sigh.

Thankful

Last night Bobby & I went to another bereavement meeting. Our leader asked us to try to write 3 things we are thankful for for 30 days. Wow.

I thought I would begin my first day by sharing what I am thankful for today.

1. My family
2. All of the wonderful and strong women I have met because of Hannah
3. A homemade dinner that was frozen so all I have to do is heat it up while snuggling my son!

I am still trying to find my way along this path but by the grace of God I am surviving. He has given me the strength I need to face each day without my daughter. He has laid it on my heart to educate and provide comfort. It is healing on so many levels. Three more memory boxes and binders went out today!

Undone.....

I have been an absolute mess these past few days. I feel like I have completely unraveled, come undone. I can't come any more apart than I already am. I need to try to reassemble myself. Regain my composure. Wipe away the tears from my flushed complexion. Get rid of the headache from my sorrow. Find some string and stitch my heart back together. This all requires much more strength than I feel I have.

I pray that God will just give me the strength. Work in me and through me. Propel me forward for Your own glory. I cannot do it without You.

The downward spiral.....

My mind is so incredibly bitter. My thoughts even taste bad in my own mouth. They would be incredibly hard for someone else to swallow or even comprehend. This road today is a dark one. Any light that was shining in is behind the clouds now. Where do I even start? I kind of feel like I'm going crazy.

I went to a bereavement meeting with my mom last night. They talked a lot about dread and anger. Dread. Want to know what I dread? I dread February 18. I dread the day my nephew is born. I dread the day all of my pregnant facebook friends start making announces and posting pictures. Maybe I will just disappear. I hate feeling this way. The other day I was at Gymboree with Bobby. Another mom said, "Do you have any other children?" Yes. My daughter passed. Awkward silence.

Another afternoon of sobbing in the basement.

I was thinking a lot about my mom. Losing Hannah has been hard on her too. She said to me one day something about having to watch me hurt on top of Hannah's death. I guess this is a love that only a mother knows. She loves me like I love Hannah. I was also thinking about her with Bobby. Bobby loves his Gamma (or Da as he has been calling her lately). She said it only took her a year and a half to bond with him. See I never wanted to let anyone else hold him when he was little. I had waited and prayed for him for so long and I was very selfish. And now what I wouldn't give for my mom to hold Hannah just once.

That's enough for today. I'm sorry if I've hurt or offended anyone.

The God of All Comfort

This morning as I quietly watched Bobby building some great tower with his blocks, a wave of grief just completely came over me. I should be having a hard time sitting on the basement floor. It would be entirely too uncomfortable for a woman 25 weeks pregnant. Yet there I was, not uncomfortable, not 25 weeks pregnant. How the realism of that can just smack you right in the face.

I felt all my thoughts, all my progress, just rewind. I felt like someone had just hit the rewind button on my grief and it was staring me directly in the face again. I began sobbing and Bobby stopped playing. Mom? I am so sorry, Ba. I am so sorry. But Dear God if you are listening, why did you allow this to happen? My soul exposed I cried out behind my tears.

Have to get out of here. I put on our shoes, our coats. Made a cup of coffee and refilled his juice. Out into the brisk autumn morning for a walk with Bobby in his wagon. I need to learn to separate my love and thoughts of Hannah from my grief. I don't want to break down everytime I actually allow myself to think of her.

After our walk and lunch I put Bobby down for his nap. That leads me to now, this moment. I am still shaken from this morning. I searched for some scripture on comfort and this is what He provided me with.

The God of All Comfort


3Praise be to the God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of compassion and the God of all comfort, 4who comforts us in all our troubles, so that we can comfort those in any trouble with the comfort we ourselves have received from God. 2 Corinthians 1:3-4 (NIV)

I suppose I am on the right path.

A letter from Daddy.....

My husband just shared this with me today. We sent balloons up to Hannah on October 21, a month after her passing. My husband and I both attached a letter to our balloon. Bobby painted his little sister a picture.

This is my husband's letter.

To My Sweet Hannah,

Daddy wants you to know, even though I know you already do, that I miss my little girl. I miss a lifetime of moments we won’t spend together. I don’t understand why, but I want you to know that it doesn’t matter why anymore. What matters is you, my memory of you, my love for you and the dreams I will have of you for as long as I live. I live your life for you every day, a piece at a time. Your funny baby sounds, your favorite toys, your sweet little outfits and run ins with your big brother. I feel as if I am there already at your first day of school, meeting your first boyfriend, seeing you all dressed up for a prom, becoming a beautiful woman like your mommy. I wish I could hold your hand, walk you down the aisle, hug you with all that I am, with all my love. These dreams will never stop sweet little girl. I will live your life as I live my own each day, holding you in a special place in my thoughts and in my heart.

There is no end baby. You are forever. Forever with me and Mommy and Bobby.

I Love You,
Daddy

One little girl making very BIG changes.....

My husband tallked to the hospital Vice President on Friday. He received ny package. And when I say he received my package, I mean he received it. He understands and is willing to change. Thank you God! Thank you for opening his mind! They are going to use Hannah's memory box to do just what it is named for, to Deliver Hope to another family. They are also going to educate themselves through the use of a Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Organization. What more could I ask for? I will never be able to change the experience I had under their care, but my daughter and I will change the experience that someone else has. So why stop here? There are 21 hospitals in the state of New Jersey who do not have Labor & Delivery - one down, twenty to go.

It's a boy.....

I haven't mentioned this before. My brother's wife and I were five days apart in our pregnancies. So now she is pregnant and I am not. I haven't seen her. I'm actually dreading it. But it's not her fault. It is nobody's fault what happened to Hannah. It just really hurts. But my point in mentioning this was actually to say they are having a boy. I am very thankful the baby is a boy. He will always be a reminder to me of what I am missing with Hannah, but if he were a girl I think it would be harder.

I don't understand why this happened. It seems like the past few days I have kind of coasted past my emotions, keeping myself and my mind busy with other things. But now I am wallowing in this sorrow, trying not to let it consume me. It always does.

It's out there.....

Today my package left for the hospital. I pray they receive this information with an open mind and a heart willing to change. What I did was put together a binder full of information on Pregnancy & Infant Loss. Everything from dealing with the grief to Parent & Child Rights. Our's and Hannah's were so devastatingly violated. I am thankful to the National Share Organization for sending me this material.

Then I made a memory box, dedicated to my daughter, filled with a candle, rose and some hopefully comforting words graced by a pair of angel wings.

How I miss my angel. It has been five weeks today. How I love that beautiful face. Sweet smile. Tiny hands and feet. One day I will hold her again.

God Doesn't Make Mistakes

This thought has been plaguing me. Why does the amount of time a child spends in the womb determine that child's worth in the eyes of so many people? There seems to be a great misconception of the allowable time a mother may grieve for her lost child and many seem to base this on the amount of time in utero....or the amount of time alive out of the womb. Just because my child only lived inside of me does not mean my child didn't live. But now that I have that off my chest.....


Tomorrow will be one month since Hannah was born into heaven. It doesn't hurt any less now than it did that day. I find I spend most of my time wishing I could just turn back time. Turn it back to when she was happily growing inside of me and I was happily living my life. But I can't. Now I live my life in pain and a kind of quiet desperation. How I hurt and long for my child.


I know God doesn't make mistakes. He wondrously created Her with love in my womb, each and every one of her tiny parts. I was a witness to how He miraculously knit her inside of me until it was His time for Bobby and I to meet her. How beautiful she was. How perfect. How peaceful. Why God chose to create our Hannah and allow us to hold this angel in our arms I may never know. But God doesn't make mistakes.


Since I began this blog I have received so many messages regarding my strength. How strong I am for telling Hannah's story and for telling it so soon after such a great loss. I don't think I am strong at all. If you saw my tear-streaked face and the sorrow that now seeps from my very soul you might change your mind. I tell Hannah's story out of this great love for my daughter. Nobody understood what happened or recognized my daughter. I wanted that for her. I gave birth to her. So many people were just ignoring my daughter's very life. Miscounting the very life of the beautiful child I held in my arms and now my heart. That is why I tell her story. That is why I expose my very heart to this world. I had a miscarriage before Bobby. I had my beautiful, sweet sleeping Hannah after Bobby. And I will never be the same. Another poem.....

Sleeping

sleeping
silent
Still.
hollow and echoing
through my mind
my body's betrayal
left a beautiful
soul to
Sleep.
now I have this void
empty
numb and
empty
looking for a purpose
a reason
an answer
as to why
Your silent birth
has left us aching
without you
is lonely
Why
why did you not get a chance
to live
to love
to be
to breathe
Your beautiful face
dainty yet strong
sleeping yet alive
Born
Still
but still born

Katy Larsen

reflections.....

I have been searching for some good in all of this. Some great purpose to be served.

Bobby and I went to our first bereavement group meeting on Tuesday. It was really good. It helps to know other people share this heavy heart though you do not want them to. Sort of a blessing and a curse all at the same time. But I feel enlightened. I truly do. There are thousands, maybe millions, of parents around the world asking God "why me?", "why my child?". It seems so unfair. Has He got some great purpose for us all, I wonder?

I've been looking back over my life. Looking at who I was say 5 years ago and who I am now. Part of me wished for my naivity back. I felt like buying a pack of cigarettes and not giving a crap about anyone. I know I can't do that though. That is not who I am. I am changed. I have people who need me. I have people I need.

So what becomes of my Hannah? How can she make a difference though she is in heaven? I've decided something.

I contacted SHARE, a support organization for pregnancy and infancy loss. I need your help. I need to educate this hospital. What should I do? How should I go about it? I am now armed with a thick packet of information and the drive of a heartbroken mother fighting for her child. Fighting for that mother and child that may end up where I was someday. I am reaching out. Pray that I connect.

I am writing a letter back to that hospital VP who had his secretary type up a stale apology to send after my husband met with him. Yes Bobby met with the hospital officials. They were very appologetic of our treatment and sorry for our loss. But they still are the same people. I am changed. Now I hope to change them. I hope Hannah can change them and her little life can have a big impact.

That is where I am going on this journey, my first stop. Who knows where else it will take me.

I feel blessed to have an Angel though it hurts so bad. I love my sweet girl up in Heaven. I wrote this poem for her yesterday. I hope you like it.

still life

to those Angels up in heaven
born without a breath
Mommy breathing for them
knowing they have left
footprints on the hearts of those
who felt them move inside
knowing they existed
felt them so alive
all the moments you beheld
safely in the womb
never to know the world around
the darkest sides, the gloom
just the joy of Mommy's love
still all around you now
knowing you are still a life
teaching them somehow
hopefully to recognize
the beauty you behold
even though you are not here
your story still is told

Katy Larsen

Hannah's Story

I had a little bleeding early on. Nothing to worry about they said. Just old blood, maybe from implantation.

Then at 17 weeks and 4 days it came back. The old blood. I called the doctor and made an appointment for later that day. I had a lot of pressure. Still I kept my Monday routine of bringing my 18 month old son Bobby to his playgroup and even made our way over to Carter's to get him some fall clothes. My husband picked us up later on and took us to the doctor.

I waited impatiently for a while before finally being seen. It was a busy afternoon and I should just be thankful they squeezed me in at all. The doctor said everything looked okay but was now going to squeeze me in for an ultrasound just to be sure. Good, I felt myself release the breath I had been holding all day. During the ultrasound my confidence began to build. The baby looked great. My cervix seemed to check out. I waited again for the doctor. He said he felt like something wasn't quite right. Would I mind going on over to Labor & Delivery just to make sure I wasn't having any contractions. Having contractions? Was he serious? Ok. We packed back into the car and headed over to the hospital.

I ended up staying in the hospital for 2 days. I was having contractions and now I was starting to feel them. I got to see Hannah many times during my stay. She was such an active little girl. Hearing her strong heartbeat and watching her move around gave me the only hope I had those days. When I went home Wednesday night the red blood started. It wasn't old anymore. This was what they told you you had to worry about. At the doctor on Thursday my cervix had drastically shortened. It had gone from 3.5 centimeters to 1.7 centimeters in a matter of days. Not good for someone who is 18 weeks pregnant. If you make it to your appointment Monday, maybe there will be something we can do. Those words echoed in my mind all weekend long as I lay in bed.

I did make it to that appointment Monday with the specialist. I got to spend some quality time with Hannah as they did her Level 2 Ultrasound and we found out she was definately a girl. She was spinning and twirling all around like a little ballerina. My cervix was even measuring the same. Just as I let out that breath that maybe we would get through this on bedrest....the internal exam showed I was about 1 centimeter dialated. My heart sunk. Stay in bed and keep your fingers crossed. What great medical advice. That was at around 10 am on Monday, September 21, 2009.

The contractions started really hurting around 3 that afternoon. It'll be okay, I kept telling myself. My husband was out on some errands with my son. Maybe if I roll over I will be more comfortable. I called my husband. I think I need to go to the hospital. I can't stand the pain much longer. I called my mom. Dont worry, I'll call you when I know something. I got up to go to the bathroom at around 3:30. Still hurting. Walked back over to my bed and sat down on the edge. And that's when I heard it, a gentle popping sound. It was followed by a gush of water. I collapsed to the floor and just sobbed with everything in me. This would be the end. I called Bobby back. He was stuck at the drawbridge. He started sobbing too. I called my mom back. Can you meet us at the hospital and get Bobby? My water broke. I made my way back to the bathroom, covered in water and blood. I changed my pants and began downstairs to wait for Bobby, leaving the pool of blood in the middle of the bathroom floor.

I can't take it any more. I am in hard labor, bleeding heavily and sitting in rush hour traffic on Route 9. It will be at least another 30-40 minutes before we get to the hospital. Little Bobby is screaming in the back seat. He is scared and so am I. I feel the baby coming out. I am in so much pain. My husband calls 911. An ambulance comes. They take me to the closest hospital.

The Emergency Room doctor greeted us with a warm why did you come here? Don't you know we don't have an OB department? I am in pain. I am losing my child. My life is shaken at it's very core and I just want someone to help me. I've been calling out to God for a week to please save this child. He said no. Accepting this is proving to be a very hard thing to do.

So I am in the Emergency Room of a hospital without a department for Labor and Delivery, no Maternity Ward, no Obstetrician and no heart. They put me into a storage room. The wall to my left was lined with an array of crutches in every size imaginable. The wall to my right held what looked like a giant medical vending machine full of splints and Ace Bandages and things of that nature. Had I sprained my ankle or jammed my finger I would have been in the right place. We want to transfer you. It is going to take a while. Again, why did you come here? Let's take a look. You are fully dialated. The baby is already on her way out. We will transfer you after delivery. He leaves the room. We ask the nurse what will happen with Hannah. She doesn't know. Doesn't know? She will find out. She will go to pathology. We want her body. I will put a note on her. Put a note on her? She leaves too. Leaving my husband and I and the unfriendly girl who quietly sat there taking my blood pressure every fifteen minutes. And leaving Hannah.

I will never know the exact moment her tiny heart stopped beating. I will never know when the peaceful smile heaven sent began to grace her beautiful face. I do know how very much I love her. I do know I will love and miss her as long as I live.

A new woman came in to relieve the unfriendly quiet girl. She shared her own stories of heartache for her lost grandchildren. She reassuringly offered her faith and belief that they were with God. I didn't want Hannah to be with God yet. I wanted her with me. I still want her with me. The doctor came back in the see if we were progressing. We were. The shifts were changing. It was twenty after seven in the evening. Another doctor would be in shortly.

Time was our enemy stretched out before us. We were left alone with our minds for the next three hours, save the occassional nurse shuffling in and out without apology to grab a supply. We asked for the doctor. What were we supposed to do? Try to push if you feel a contraction. The doctor will be in shortly. But I couldn't feel the contactions anymore. They had given me so much morphine. I am still bleeding heavily. I looked up at my husband. They want us to deliver on our own? I tried pushing a few times. Nothing happened.

At around 10:30 the doctor finally came in. The next eleven minutes were a blur. The exam, the pushing, the reality of what was happening echoing in my mind the entire time. It hurt. It hurt all over, inside and out. We sobbed for our daughter. The grief was overwhelming. It still is now. Hannah came into this world silently. It was 10:41 pm on September 21, 2009.

I want to hold her. Are you sure? Yes. I want to hold my daughter. Hannah Katherine. She was beautiful. All of her tiny parts were perfect, right down to her ten little fingers and ten little toes. She was so delicate. I was overwhelmed with love and grief all at the same time. We cried so hard for our little angel. Why our daughter? Why us? Just a little bit longer and she could have survived. All of the why's and what if's that plague me now began at that very moment. My life changed forever at that very moment. Bobby was shaking so hard he had to give her back to me. We said goodbye to our daughter. Rest in peace sweet girl. The unfriendly quiet girl returned. They placed our daughter's body inside a plastic tub right in front of us. I couldn't imagine there being a heart inside any one of these people. A few minutes after she left another woman popped in to see "where it was". My baby, I said. The door closed. Well it closed three quarters of the way onto the plastic garbage can they had propping it open.

Most hospitals will put a hat and blanket on your stillborn child and allow you to spend some time with them. They even take professional pictures and console you in your grief. I felt robbed of all that. Hannah was robbed of all that. She was robbed of so much. They could have at least given her some dignity and respect.

The doctor said my OB had ordered a couple of medications and said if the placenta and any other pregnancy tissue had been delivered it would then be okay to go home. The IV started up and we waited again.

We got home around 6 am Tuesday morning. We layed down until around 9:30. Who could sleep? I cleaned the blood off the bathroom floor. My husband called the funeral parlor. The hospital called. We need to do a fetal death certificate. You can pick her up on Thursday. We went over to the funeral home. My parents brought Bobby home later that afternoon. We tried to function. It was hard. I was still bleeding heavily. There were clots and leftover placenta. This doesn't seem right. I am still in pain.

I had a doctor's appointment on Wednesday. Looks okay, but come back tomorrow for an ultrasound. Being in that office was torture. Seeing all the pregnant women. Knowing I was not. Now I had to have an ultrasound and see nothing but an empty uterus.

I had the ultrasound on Thursday. Not good. Your uterus is infected. The hospital left placenta there. It should have been cleared. Go over to the hospital (the one I wished I would have made it to) as soon as possible. We need to do an emergency D&C. I had that done at 8 pm on Thursday night.

We tried calling the funeral home several times on Thursday. No one is calling us back. On Friday they call. The hospital couldn't find Hannah. He didn't want to call until he had it all figured out. Thank you God. They found her. Can you take a couple pictures for us? Sure. Being the father of two angels himself, he totally understood. Carmen had been a blessing in all of this.

I have four photos of Hannah. They are not clear but they are all I have. Every day is a struggle. It hasn't gotten any easier. They say it does. What do they know? Has it happened to them? Three weeks ago I was pregnant. Now I am empty. My heart is empty. I cry everyday. I feel hopeless. I know God has handed me this for a reason. I know some greater good will be served. I know my beautiful Hannah is happily playing in heaven. I know life goes on and I know this story is not yet finished. But it doesn't make it hurt any less. It doesn't help me sleep at night. It doesn't help me live without my daughter.

I wear her remains in a heart around my neck. I have her picture in a heart frame. I framed her last sonogram and hung it under Bobby's picture in the family room. She is still my daughter. I light a pink candle on the mantel for her every night. Nothing eases this pain. My father had brought a little butterfly lamp over the day after Hannah passed. I put a lightbulb in it, plugged it in and haven't turned it off since. It shines for her.

Turns out the old blood was from a placental abruption. Fact is I could have carried her full term on bed rest. The "end game" as the doctor called it was the infection that had gotten into the placenta and the cord. He couldn't answer me as to what could have caused this. My own goggling produced too many internal exams. Could it have been different? I don't know. Hannah was healthy. She was perfect.

So I will try to go on. I know no one knows what to say. I know no one understands. Maybe someone will now. Maybe you will honor Hannah with me.