What I've learned

Yesterday was the five month Angelversary of my beautiful daughter Stella. Somewhere around 7:00pm on February 5, 2011 Stella's Doctor, Dr. Cohan, looked up at me - looked right into my eyes and said "Shanna she is not going to survive this." That event was preceded by about an hour of chaos... beeping machines, doctors and nurses running in and out of her room, etc. When all is quiet and dark in the middle of the night my brain goes back to that exact moment... "Shanna she is not going to survive this...Shanna she is not going to survive this... Shanna she is not going to survive this." plays over and over in my head like a broken record. Right now if I close my eyes, I can still see Dr. Cohen clear as day: he is in jeans and an old sweatshirt (because he was called in when her stats began to fall), with a little scruff like he hadn't shaved since yesterday, but with his honest and kind eyes looking right into mine. At the same time as he was saying those words to me I was remembering the night I checked into the hospital almost three weeks before. He looked at me then with those same honest and kind eyes when he promised that he would do everything he could to save Stella. He also promised that he would always tell me the truth about her condition and if/when all hope was lost he would tell me straight out and allow me the honor of holding her as she passed.

What I Want

God never asked me what I wanted. If he had, I would have told Him to fix her, to make her all better so that I can bring her home and love her more than anything in this world. God never asks us what we want. We learn that the world just doesn't work that way, that He just doesn't work that way. I know there is a plan... I know that God doesn't "do" things to us - He does them for us. And when the things that are done hurt us, He is there to cry with us. This doesn't stop me from thinking about all the things that I want.

I have never been the kind of person who could ask for things. I am the one to meet others' needs and if mine get met in the mean time - great, if not - I muddle through. Lately I have been really struggling. (I laugh as I type that) That phrase is about the best way that I can express myself to anyone. My way of reaching out is to say "I have been struggling lately." Not a very direct way of reaching out, huh? Maybe it is because I'm not used to reaching out. Maybe it is because I don't want to be a bother. I think that part of the reason that I don't want to reach out is because I am afraid that I will be rejected. Not asking hurts much less than asking and being rejected. I guess writing my feelings in this blog and then hoping that people read it is about as indirect as saying "I have been struggling lately." (I laugh again at myself) Although I know that I'm being very indirect, that writing in Stella's blog is not the same as actually calling someone and telling them what I need - I feel that this will get a lot of things off my mind. I haven't written in a long time. I've let Mother's Day come and go, Stella's Due Date come and go, and all of the very bad and very good moments in between come and go without writing. I hope to write a special post for the love of my life on Father's Day, but today's post is just about me. My needs... what I want!

I want my daughter back! I want to hold Stella. I want to sing to Stella. I want to read to Stella. I want to give Stella a bath and dress her in a pretty dress. I want to wake up at 3am because Stella is screaming and hungry. I want to sit in Stella's room and feed her until she falls asleep. I want my daughter back. I want her to go to preschool and kindergarten. I want her to make her First Holy Communion. I want Stella to go to school and I want to help her with her homework. I want to watch my daughter grow up. I want Stella to graduate from High School and go off to college. I want her to come home on the weekends and ask me to do her laundry. I want to watch Stella fall in love, succeed at her career, and start a family. I want Stella to be a mother. I just want Stella back in this world!

I want my pregnancy back! I want to travel back in time, back to December 21, 2010 8:00am - the exact time that we were first told that something was wrong with our baby girl. I want to go back to that day in the ultrasound room. I want Stella to be the exact size that she was supposed to be. I want to finish out the next 20 weeks of my pregnancy without complications. I want to have a baby shower, to paint her room, to wash her clothes, to put her crib together. I never had a baby shower - instead I had a memorial service and a lunch at the restaurant where my shower was booked. We didn't get a chance to paint her room - we wanted to wait until after Christmas. I never had a chance to wash her clothes - I took all the tags off and put them in a laundry basket, but I didn't have any baby laundry detergent yet. Her clothes are still in the laundry basket waiting to be washed. We never had a chance to put her crib together - John was going to do that the week before he went back from Christmas break. We were in Louisville already during that week. He crib now sits in the box, in her closet. I want to have heartburn, swollen feet, and no energy again. I want to sing in the car at the top of my lungs and feel Stella kicking me again.

I want to feel something other than deep, painful sadness. Even when I'm smiling I can still feel such horrible pain. I want someone to come sit with me when I'm sad and crying. I want someone to hold my hand. I want someone to reach out to John and help him through this difficult time so that he doesn't have to be so strong for me. I want people to understand that I'm not "over it", I'm not "better now", and I never will be. I want people to understand that four months is NOT a very long time. I often wake up and think that it has only been a few days since I lost Stella.

I want people to know what this is like without actually having to lose a child. I have nightmares every single night. Every night! I haven't been able to actually fall asleep on my own (without medication) since I went into the hospital in January. I have to have at least one TV on, sometimes two, at all times. If the room gets silent I start to hear my screams from the night that she passed away. I replay the last few hours of Stella's death in my head at random times - while I'm watching tv, driving in the car, or even when I'm grocery shopping. I have to remember exactly what nurses where in the room, who was doing what, and what they said to me. If I can't remember I start to panic. "Grief comes in waves" - that's the quote that everyone uses to describe grief. My waves knock me over, punch me in the eye, and leave me for dead... if it wasn't for my wonderful husband, I may just lie there and let those waves kill me. I ask God to take me at least once a day. I try to bargain with Him - He can take me if He gives John Stella, or sometimes I just ask if He can take me so that I can be with Stella up there. I often just yell out "I don't want to be alive" or "I can't live without her" I feel that these statements are true. Please note: I do not have any plans on killing myself. I just do not feel like I can live without Stella. I do not have the ability to deal with anything emotional. I can't process and reason. Things get jumbled up in my brain and I can't get them sorted out. I can barely talk on the phone, I can't read books, I spend most of my time playing Farmville on FB because it distracts me, I watch the same cop shows over and over again and sometimes they are the only things that keep me calm. I want everyone to know that I am not nor will I ever be the same person.

I want people to know that I need help! NOT medical or mental help... I'm going to counseling, I've talked with my priest, and I'm pretty open about my feelings with John. But I need help! I need someone to help me take care of things. I need someone to just sit with me. I need someone to help me get back to working out. I need someone to tell me that sleeping till 3pm and then watching tv the rest of the day is okay and normal. I just need help!

I wrote at the beginning of this post that I am not able to reach out. My counselor suggested to me this week that I begin to reach out to "safe" people. I find writing a blog to be safe. This is about as much reaching out as I can do...

Without Stella...

Two months and three days ago I walked out of the new NICU Pod J without Stella, I walked off the Labor & Delivery Floor without Stella, I walked out of Norton Hospital without Stella. Two days later I went to a funeral home and signed papers allowing them to take Stella. I was walking around the world without Stella. Two days after that I went to the doctor's office to get my staples out without Stella. Other women were in there for checkups with their babies. John and I sat in the waiting room without Stella. That evening after my appointment we left Louisville without Stella. I had come there three weeks before with her and I left without her.

I walked into my house in Murray, KY without Stella. John carried in her things - stuffed animals, clothes, blankets, cards, flowers, and much more. But we never carried Stella into the house. I didn't leave the bedroom for days. John brought me coffee and cereal in the morning and dinner at night. I mostly slept through lunch with help from the pain pill I was given for my C-Section. When I finally walked out of the bedroom a few days later I walked into a house that Stella did not live in. The days came and went without Stella. I started taking showers and brushing my teeth. I started riding in the car with John to go places. I didn't get out of the car at first, but at least I left the house.

I started going to lunch with friends. A mere three weeks earlier I had given birth, but I went to lunch without Stella. I started to function without Stella. The thought of functioning without her sometimes put me back into bed for a few days. But with the strength that she gave me I got back out of bed and faced the world without her.

I have done so much in the two months that I have been without Stella. I often wonder how...
How do I get out of bed without Stella?
How do I go back to work without Stella?
How do I laugh without Stella?

The first few days after she passed, while we were still staying at the hotel, while I was showering I would sometimes feel this overwhelming calm. For 30 seconds or so I could breathe, my eyes would dry up, and I felt like someone was hugging me. I told John about this after the second time it happened. I told him that it had to be God telling me that I was going to be okay. Those 30 seconds have turned into hours. The only way I can function is when I am feeling that "hug." When I'm not (which still happens several times a day) I feel like I can't breathe, I can't stop crying, I have this aching pain in my chest and upper arms. I'm not sure that I ever want that feeling to completely go away. That is my reminder that I am living my life without Stella. It's not enough for me to look into the mirror after taking a shower and see the scar where she came out of me. It's not enough that I do not have a car seat in my car, or to walk past her room and know that her crib is stuffed in the closet. It's not enough that the only toys laying around my house are dog toys or that the only two things that wake me up are my alarm or the dogs. The physical pain of losing her is something that I never want to go away. I never want to feel like I can completely function without Stella.

I wonder if God thought that I wouldn't be a good mom - so he took Stella from me. I wonder what horrible thing I could have possibly done to deserve years of infertility, years of aching to be a mom, to hold my baby and to look into her eyes and know that I created such a perfect thing. How could it be that I deserve to have all that taken away from me? Really what did I do? I don't just think, I know that I will be a good mother! There is no doubt in my mind. Maybe God doesn't think so and I guess that's all that matters.

I HATE that people that I don't know look at me and have no idea that I created a perfect angel. I hate that the checkout lady in Walmart doesn't know that I have tears in my eyes because my daughter died. But then at the same time I hate that I am now the person who "lost" her daughter. Like I misplaced her... Is she in the bottom of my purse, or maybe I left her on the kitchen counter? Nope, not there. But you don't want to say that I am the person with a dead daughter. That's not very sensitive, is it? So what do you say? How do you act around me? Do you pretend like everything is normal and the last 8 1/2 months didn't really happen? Or do you nervously ask me how I'm doing and tell me how strong I am for even being able to leave the house?

You think that you don't know how to act. Holy shit, I don't know how to act! I think... will it be weird if I just interject and start talking about Stella because that's all I really want to do? Well, what if I just want a break from talking and I want someone else to do the talking, how do I tell you that? Is it okay to talk about "when I was pregnant" like it was a normal pregnancy and I am a mom with a baby? What about when I just really can't take it, I have to go home, I just want to cry - how are you going to react? That's what I spend my time thinking about. I wonder, does everyone who knows about Stella look at me, cock their head to the side and think "aww, that's Shanna. Her daughter died."?? Or have you forgotten already and think "Oh yes, Shanna did go through something awful, but she is dressed, has makeup on, and is even smiling so everything should be okay by now. We can all move on and the sadness is now over." ?? Well, let me be the one to tell you that it just doesn't work that way. I will always be Shanna, the friend, the daughter, the niece, the wife of John who lost the most precious, most important thing in her life - her five day old baby girl Stella.