Showing posts with label anencephaly. Show all posts
Showing posts with label anencephaly. Show all posts

Sunday, January 29, 2012

Disappear

About a year and a half ago, I noticed my wedding photo was missing from my bedroom. I couldn't figure out where it went. A few days later, I noticed Spencer had it in his room on top of his bookcase. When I asked him why he took it, he simply said he loved us and wanted our picture in his room so that he could look at it whenever he wanted. So this summer it didn't surprise me when he asked for  two things: a photo of his brother to sit next to ours in his room and another photo to keep in the car by his car-seat. 

Today, I heard a little voice in the back seat ask me if he could roll up the picture of his brother and hide it. Through silent tears, I asked him why he wanted to do this. His response: "Mom I don't want anyone to know I had a brother. I don't want them to know his head didn't grow right. What if they find out and tease me?"

I can't tell you how much my heart hurt to hear these words.
 



I thought back to this photo. A four year old  little boy who was so excited and proud to finally hold his little brother. Two parents who tried to shield their son from the defect beneath a hat...only to have the hat fall off...and then to hear that little boy exclaim how beautiful his brother was after seeing him as God created.

Today my heart hurt over the fact that a five year old has to worry about being judged by his peers. Kids can and will be cruel. He has already had a taste of this cruelness over insignificant objects... insignificant to an adult but very meaningful to a child. I could only imagine the hurt he would feel if something was said about his brother. Until today, I never really thought through how Spencer's view of the world would change after experiencing death.

As much as we want to, we can't shelter and protect our children from the hurt and pain of life. However, we can teach them as much as possible before sending them out into the real world. Some of the best teaching measures are set by example.....Showing them unconditional love and cultivating that love to grow and flourish is one of the best examples around. It is my job as a mom to make sure the little boy in the picture does not disappear.




Thursday, January 19, 2012

D-Day: 1.21.11

He answered at the end of the third ring with an out-of-breath hello. Calving season.

Hey there. Just wanted to call you quick. I am sitting outside of Priddle's office and the girls are going to work me in for a sono. Long story short, I started spotting at lunch, couldn't get the on-call nurse to call me back so I called the tech, who talked to another nurse who got her doc to authorize a sono before the weekend.  Yes this is different from a few months ago. More blood.  But I felt movement before it happened so I am sure everything will be fine. Well the last appointment is at 4:00 and it is 3:30 right now, so no, I guess you won't have time to drive the hour and a half  to be here. I am sure they will just do a quick check for heartbeat and nothing more. I promise I won't sneak a look for boy or girl parts *giggle* and I will check to see if we can still keep our regular sono on Monday so we can find out together. That one is right away in the morning so we can bring Spencer and you can drop him off at daycare on the way back home. I know he is so excited to see his brother or sister. Are you sure? But I know how much you wanted to be there when we found out. Alright we will play it by ear. I will call you as soon as I know something.

Well little kiddo is active. Let me turn this on so you can listen. See, nice strong heartbeat. You had that bleed back around week 8 didn't you? I am not seeing anything abnormal, especially in the area where it was before. Kiddo is head down so lets see if the placenta is over the cervix. That may be what caused the bleeding. Hmmm. Not cooperating are you. Alright little stinker! I can't see if you keep kicking at me. Hold still. There you go. Oh Jenny. I have to be honest with what I am seeing. I can't keep this from you. Kiddo's skull is not round. See right here. There is a flat appearance at the top. Your baby has anencephaly. I am 100% certain but I will get Jen in here to confirm with me. We will call Priddle. It is his day off but I am sure he is in town somewhere. Don't worry. We will get a hold of him to come in, look at the sono and talk to you. Oh Jenny. I am so sorry.

The following ten minutes were the longest of my life. I sat there in shock. Numb. Unable to move. Too confused to really cry. My mind was buzzing. Medical terminology class was filed way back in my memory banks. Anen = missing or without. Cephalic = head end of the body. Without his head? How could that be. I could feel him kick and squirm even then. The dreams came flooding back. Hydrocephaly. The recurring dream of a child born with hydrocephaly. That wasn't right. Hydrocephaly had to do with fluid on the brain. Maybe I totally misunderstood what she said. Was it hydrocephaly or anencephaly. My head hurt. I am sure the confused look on my face gave me away. The tech explained that her previous job was at the University of Iowa. It was there that she personally had scanned around 20 babies who were diagnosed with anencephaly. If the doctor suspected it in his office, they were sent to her to do a higher level scan. I didn't doubt her. I never questioned if she made a mistake. Small talk followed. She told me I would be given the options to end the pregnancy or carry it out to term with the 'popular' option being termination. Quietly she offered up the option of organ donation, explaining that if she were in my shoes, she would carry it out and donate organs. I was asked again if I wanted to find out if my child was a boy or a girl. I couldn't. I thought about Scott. He wanted to know so bad. I couldn't take that experience away from him. I thought of Spencer. I could handle getting this news by myself if it meant he was not here to see me like this. He knew mommy had a baby in her belly. How were we going to explain death to a four year old? Our moms. They just had birthdays. How could we tell them that their grandchild was going to die? I was supposed to get good news today. This baby was supposed to breathe new life into a month associated with loss and pain of our previous miscarriage.

The door quietly opened as my doctor walked in. The buzzing in my head stopped. Jenny. I am so sorry. I looked at the film. The diagnosis is correct. Your baby has anencephaly.

Tuesday, November 29, 2011

That Mom

At this time six months ago we were welcoming family and friends to our home in the anticipation of Palmer's birth. It was a happy time mixed with the fear of the unknown.

Since Palmer's birth, society has painted me into 'that mom'.

That mom whose baby died. Oh yes. Don't you remember me telling you about her. She is the one who had that baby that died. No. Babies don't just die. She must have had a miscarriage. Yeah. A miscarriage. That sounds better. If we call it a miscarriage it is easier forgotten. Besides no one actually knows their baby will die before it is born. So yeah. It must have been a miscarriage. There is no way she willingly carried him to term knowing he would die.

Oh no. Here comes that mom. Don't make eye contact. She might start talking about her baby that died. We can't let her bring it up or mention it at all. Quick. Turn the corner. Oh I hope she didn't see us.

That mom is crazy! Who thinks rain can make you feel closer to your dead child. I hope she feels comfort in all that delusion she is living in.

Oh. Its that mom. Oh poor thing. Well lets make sure we are super supportive but please, at all cost, we need to avoid mentioning her babies name. Christmas is coming and we just can't say his name out loud. We don't want her having a break down at the mention of his name.

That mom. *sigh*

I really hate to burst some bubbles out there but I am not that mom. Who I am, is that mom who delivered a full-term infant who was born with a beating heart. I am that mom who loved her son unconditionally, and yes, chose to continue a pregnancy knowing the end result would be death either during birth or shortly after. I am that mom who mourns her son in her own way and on her own time and will not be told that she is doing it wrong.  I am that mom who continues to embrace the plan God has for her son and who rejoices in the fact that she has an angel looking down on her from Heaven.

I am that mom who wants to talk about her son ~ especially during the holiday seasons and those special anniversary dates. The moment we stop talking about those we lost, is the moment we forget about them. I am not going to crack or crumble at the mention of his name, but I will if he is forgotten. I am my own person and will never let society paint me into 'that mom'. I am Palmer's mom.




Thursday, November 10, 2011

What is Normal?

The last month has been a whirl wind in the Lees household... school, homework, class parties, doctor  appointments, work, work and more work it seems... but finally we find life starting to slow down a bit.

Three weeks ago we took Spencer to Children's Mercy in Kansas City for his testing. We anticipated the echo under sedation followed by a heart cath to fix a defect. Overjoyed is what we felt when his cardiologist explained in the post-surgery consult room that the area he was concerned about was normal and a heart cath was not necessary. This 'area' had a very obvious difference in thickness from the rest of the ovale... it trailed off to a very thin membrane. There is no danger with it being thin, all the area needs to do is stop the blood flow between the chambers in the heart. Scott asked him directly if it closed off on its own over the last three months. We were answered with a smile and misty eyes and told we could take him home as soon as recovery released him.

This was a huge weight off our shoulders. For the first time this year, we felt like we could finally relax. I didn't realize how stressed I was until about a week before his procedure. I couldn't focus on the simplest of tasks. I even left my car keys laying on a shelf in the mall... so out of character for me. The evening we brought Spencer home from the hospital was the first night I actually had continuous and rested sleep since January.

Three weeks ago also marked the end of Scott's travel time for the season. He is home now until May with his suitcase unpacked instead of waiting by the door. Our routine has started to fall back into place as we try to figure out our 'new norm' as a family. Most days I question what 'normal' our life is supposed to hold. Our normal consists of a five year old proudly proclaiming he is looking for the 'perfect shade of pink and purple' flowers to take to his brother. Or asking to buy 'awesome' toys in duplicate to leave at the cemetery so that his brother can fly down from Heaven to get them. Almost daily I get asked when I will grow another baby in my belly... a baby that won't go to Heaven right away. Try answering that one without crying... and then try to explain why you are crying.... then wake up the next morning and go about your day while you listen to parents complain about the 'trials' of pregnancy or how hard life is with a newborn. Normal is looking through Spencer's school work and finding the 'family' picture he drew. A picture that includes Scott, myself, Spencer and Palmer. On the outside looking in, we may appear normal... but our normal always takes on a different twist.

Our new life does not always seem to fit the typical family mold... in some ways... but we are doing our best to grow into it each day. The part of our 'normal' that will never change is love. The questions may be tough and we may not have all the answers, but our love will never falter. As Spencer said last night, 'Mommy. I love you all the way to where my brother lives and back again.' I guess that is even better than the moon....

Saturday, October 15, 2011

His Willful Heart

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day.

I have been going through mementos, photographs and keepsakes over the last few days. This was an impromptu recording taken on Palmer's birthday with my Blackberry. Palmer was very active and did not cooperate with the fetal monitors that day. Timing was of essence and critical for him to be considered for tissue donation. We ended up agreeing to check his heartbeat every hour during labor to document if his heartbeat was still going strong.  Each passing hour was emotional for everyone in the room... family, friends and staff. There was always a collective sigh of relief when the rhythmic pace was heard. Reality may have been waiting around the corner, but those moments belonged to us.

I will always cherish this sound. So in honor of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day, and remembrance of my son, I will share this memory with you. On the right hand side at the top there is an audio player entitled "His Willful Heart"... before you press play, please mute the audio player at the bottom of the blog. The recording is quiet, so you may need to turn your computer volume up.

Thank you for allowing me to share my son with you.



Wednesday, September 28, 2011

A little George Straight 1982

Gotta get out of here, get it all off my mind...and like a memory from your grandpa's attic...a song comes slippin' through the radio static...changing my mood...get lost and get right with my soul.... 

Have you ever listened to a song and found yourself completely lost in the lyrics... transporting yourself to a different place in time.... Have you listened to a song and thought the words fit your life nearly perfect? I spend a lot of time listening to music...when it comes down to it,  more than I realized.... ten hours a week for my work commute, eight hours in the background at work each day, approximately four hours a week on the lawn mower, and then I always have something playing on the weekends while I am doing chores. This weekend while I was logging my lawn mower hours, I started to analyze my iPod play lists. Lets just say it is eclectic mix... But the one thing each song has in common, is how they fit into my life. Snippets of songs have told my story.. conveyed my feelings....marked my emotions...provided an escape....brought a smile to my lips... When I struggle with words to express my feelings or struggle to make sense of my life, I let the lyrics in my play list do the work....

 the hurt... the pain...
life ain't always what you think it ought to be.... ain't even gray but she buries her baby... the sharp knife of a short life.... I've had just enough time...
 Lying in my bed I hear the clock tick and think of you... Caught up up in circles...confusion is nothing new... After my picture fades and darkness has turned to gray....watching through windows you're wondering if I'm OK.....
Every time I think of you. I always catch my breath... And I'm still standing here...And you're miles away... And I am wondering why you left.... And there's a storm that's raging through my frozen heart tonight. ....
 the hidden reality....


she never slows down...she doesn't know why... but she knows that when shes all alone  feels like it it's all coming down... she won't turn around... the shadows are long and she fears  if she cries that first tear... the tears will not stop raining down... so stand in the rain.. stand your ground... stand up when it's all crashing down.. you stand through the pain... you won't drown...and one day what's lost will be found....you stand in the rain... she won't make a sound...alone in this fight with herself and the fears whispering if she stands she''ll fall down... she wants to be found... the only way out is through everything she's running from... wants to give up and lie down...so stand in the rain... stand your ground... stand up when it's all crashing down... 
People say that I am brave but I'm  not... truth is I'm barely hanging on.... 

anger... frustration....

what do you want... what do you want from me.... are you trying to bring back the tears or just a memory... you keep taking me back to where I have already been....what do you want from me... I get so tired of living like this...  to find the things to keep my mind off of you... what do you want me to say..
to find a release from reality... a release from the pain.... or to transport me to a time when I was carefree...
 progress.....

It's been a long road and a million tears. I'm moving slow but I'm moving on.... The sweetest memories still remain... time and fate can't be controlled... you play the hand that you're dealt and the dice that you rolled... and  who am I to question God anyway...well these days when I look back,  I know I am blessed to have been loved like that... I still miss him every day....with no regrets... and peace of mind... lived so much in so little time...I'm so glad, when he was here, he was mine....from the day we met... to the night he left... I loved him... with no regrets....
  hope...
send me away with the words of a love song....lord make me a rainbow I'll shine down on    my mother... she'll know I'm safe with you when she stands under my colors...
it's like a storm... that cuts a path... it breaks your will... it feels like that... you think you are lost... but you are not lost on your own... you're not alone... I will hold you tight and I won't let go... it hurts my heart to see you cry... i know its dark, this part of life... oh it finds us all...  we are too small to stop the rain, oh but when it rains.. I will stand by you, I will help you through when you have done all you can do and you can't cope... don't be afraid to fall... it won't get you down... you are gonna make it... I know you are gonna make it....
life ain't always beautiful... but it's a beautiful ride.... 
a bigger picture .....
but there's a greater story... written long before me... because he loves you like this... i will carry you while your heart beats here... long beyond the empty cradle through the coming years....i will carry you.... all my life... I will praise the One whose chosen me to carry you... such a short time, such a long road... all this madness but I know.. that the silence has brought me to his voice..

an escape....
memory lane up in the headlights... has got me reminiscing all the good times...
          listening to old Alabama... driving through Tennessee... 

Turn the quiet up... turn the noise down... let this old world just spin around... i wanna feel it swing... i wanna feel it sway... put some feel good in my soul.... act like tomorrow is ten years away... kick back and let the feelings flow... 

My emotional play list will be an evolving process...  some days will be stuck on repeat... some days will rewind... and others will fast forward... but at the end of the day it will be an acoustic version of  me finding my balance and getting right with my soul....

Thursday, September 15, 2011

How far will your ripple go?

Last week, we were invited by Midwest Transplant Network to participate in their yearly calendar. Each year they select 12 individuals from a pool of deceased donors, living donors, recipients and those on an organ waiting list. We were honored to be asked if Palmer could be featured. This involved going to Kansas City as a family for a photo session and filmed interview in a professional studio. I can not begin to describe the intimidation from the studio and the pure, raw nerves involved. Well you know me. If I am going to do something, I want to do it right. I left there feeling like I let Palmer down by doing a poor job sharing his story and how we came to our decision to donate. For as hard as it was emotionally, I wished I could have a do-over. For someone who has blogged her journey to anyone who would read it, I really came short with words. All I can say is that it was not eloquent and I am afraid I didn't make much sense. Combine the bright lights, camera, nerves and all the thoughts running through my head and I am afraid it equaled a mess. I know it was hard for Scott too. You have heard me talk about couples having to grieve separately and together. Well take two people who have not grieved together since their son's funeral, have a complete stranger ask some very personal questions and then record their every word and movement... I think you get my drift. Even though it was hard, I have no regrets. Even if our footage ends up on the cutting room floor, we made progress as a couple. So based on some questions they asked, I thought I would try a  'do-over'.....

My name is Jenny and this is my husband Scott. We are your average farm family living in north east Kansas.

We came in contact with Midwest Transplant Network while I was pregnant with our son, Palmer. At twenty weeks into the pregnancy, through a routine ultrasound, he was diagnosed with anencephaly. Anencephaly is a neural tube defect that is 'incompatible with life'. There was no guarantee how long he would survive... a few minutes, hours or days at most. After receiving his diagnosis we researched the possibility of  tissue donation. His organs were too delicate for harvest, but his heart valves were a possibility if he met certain criteria. Our experience with Midwest Transplant Network was absolutely wonderful. They fully explained the donation process and offered wonderful support. A caring and compassionate nature was our first and lasting impression.


In hindsight, our decision to donate was easy. I say this simply because it was always the right thing to do.  We are both registered donors. So really, why would we choose anything different for our children. But after you are given the news that your child will die, your thinking is not clear. The cliche 'our world came crashing down' becomes your reality. Simple tasks became unbearably hard. Our life seemed to come to a screeching halt. You question your strength and ability to continue a pregnancy that will ultimately end in death. But as you question your strength, you realize that you love this little being with all your heart and soul. Then you start to think about the other families who have been told that their child will die unless they receive valves. Each day, they watch their child slip away, fighting to live. This was our opportunity to turn our loss into someone else's hope. The days I wanted to lay in bed and ignore the world, I thought of these families and what donation would mean to them. Donation became my ray of light. It was my reason to get out of bed, put myself together and live my life for my child and the recipient family. Through donation I learned a new appreciation for celebrating the life of my child.

Each criteria milestone we met was a reason to celebrate. On the day of his delivery, the wild card was his weight. After he was born, the nurse reported his weight at 4 lbs 13 oz. I knew this would not make the cut and our nurse confirmed the news that he was rejected for donation. I was devastated. I remember looking up at Scott, watching him unwrap Palmer and listening to him say there had to be a mistake. He said he knew he weighed more based on his chest size and he demanded a reweigh. Scott was right. His weight was off by 3 ounces. Two families were gifted heart valves because of my husband. He often will say that I did all the hard work during the pregnancy. But I think those two families would agree, that his role that day was just as important as what I did the previous 9 months. That night, we were allowed 12 hours with Palmer before we had to give him up. We chose to give him to the harvest team a little over 4 hours after his heart stopped beating. We knew the sooner his valves were retrieved, the sooner a family would receive 'the call'.... the call that valves were available for their child.

Regardless of your situation or circumstances, consider donation. Talk about it with your loved ones and make your decision known. We all leave a ripple in life, reaching out and touching lives. Donation is a gift that leaves a ripple and touches more people than we really will ever know. Do your part and keep your ripple going.