Plans and Comforts and Fears and Worries and... Random Thoughts

Can I just complain for a moment...?

Making funeral arrangements for your still-living child really sucks. I'm sitting here writing emails and making phone calls while she occasionally flutters around in my belly to remind me that she's still here. Maybe she's just offering a little "pat on the shoulder" from the inside... a little "it's okay, Mommy". I like to think so.

*SIGH*

It's a one step forward, two steps back kind of process. I try to work on these things when I'm in the right frame of mind (ie. NOT already sad and crying), but ultimately, the process of "working on these things" almost invariably puts me into a more somber frame of mind. How could it not? It has been much easier - almost... therapeutic? - to work on the remembrance stuff. Things I want to have for her, memories I'd like to capture, little gifts to bury her with. The funeral and burial stuff, though... not so much. I've been avoiding it like the plague. It has only been two weeks since this bomb was dropped on us, so I know that it's not all that bad that I'm just now gathering the strength to deal with it. At the same time, though, the reality is that we're fortunate that the worst hasn't happened yet and caught us off-guard. We really need to put these plans into place.

I had no idea where to start, of course. For one thing, you can't take out a life insurance policy on an unborn child, so where does the money come from? I had heard from other families that have dealt with infant loss and stillbirth that there are many funeral homes that offer their services at dramatically reduced costs in this kind of situation, but how does one find these places? Fortunately I was able to get in touch with the wonderful Maternal-Child Health Social Worker at the hospital where we'll be delivering (who also lost a baby to triploidy... can you believe it?!!!), who gave me a list of funeral homes that they've worked with in the past. I've gotten in contact with 5 of them so far, and the one that has provided me with pricing was quite generous, so I'm hopeful that this won't be quite as bad as we were anticipating.

Then there's the question of where. Being a young family and not exactly committed to the exact area in which we're currently living, I hesitate to bury her out here close to our current home. I also don't want to have to go too far to visit her. My family has several plots at a cemetery near where my parents live, about 45 minutes from us, which might be an option as well. I'm told that you can purchase space on top of an existing plot (of a family member) for a dramatically reduced cost, so we'll consider that as well. My grandmother lost her 9-month-old baby who is buried there, so it might be nice for Gracie to join her.

GAH... this is so bizarre to talk about, isn't it?!!!! I'm becoming somewhat desensitized to it all, but every now and then it hits me just how flippin' WEIRD it is to talk like this.

Anyway, then there's the question of what type of service to have. We're thinking of just doing something graveside. I like the idea of being outside, as opposed to being in a funeral home (with that funeral home smell and funeral home lighting and funeral home... atmosphere). We don't plan on having a viewing. I just don't want to make people feel obligated to face the raw reality of it all. We will invite our families to come and meet her in the hospital if they feel compelled, and we will certainly share photos with anyone who is interested, but I think that will be the extent of it. I also don't want to leave the hospital and spend the next few days knowing that I'll have to see her again (but this time all "done up" in post-mortem fashion). I just want to spend our time with her, say our goodbyes, and remember her in her natural state as she came to us. I need to start Googling around for music and readings and things we'd like to include as well, but I know for darn sure that that's going to be an emotional process, so I'm tabling it for the moment.

There's also the added complication that I'm about to begin a surgical rotation on Monday, meaning that my hours are about to get very long, my mornings very early, and my free time very sparse. Not great timing. And I can't take time off in small chunks - it's one month at a time from this point on - and I only have a maximum of 3 months to take if I want to graduate on time (and I desperately do!), so I'm trying to save that time for after the birth, and for residency interviews (late fall). The scheduling inflexibility is only one of a zillion reasons why medical school is frickin' hard, especially when you have children. But I digress.

Today we received a kit from a wonderful foundation called String of Pearls, which I've mentioned before. Free of charge, they provide this amazing memory kit to families facing the loss of a baby with a terminal diagnosis before or soon after birth.

It includes two books, a candle, a crocheted blanket, air-dry clay for making hand- and footprint impressions, a casting kit for making 3D plaster casts of hands or feet, a ceramic ornament with paint for making a hand- and/or footprint keepsake ornament, a creme for breast engorgement, and herbal tea for mom. It's so perfect for this kind of situation, and I never would have thought of all of these things on my own but am so glad that I'll have them on hand to make memories and keepsakes with her.

We also ordered a custom handstamped silver necklace for her on Etsy. I couldn't find anything that was exactly what we wanted, so I found a shop that had all of the elements we wanted (just in different necklaces) and asked them to piece it together into one necklace for us. The shop owner was incredibly sweet and accommodating and is expediting production so that we can have it ASAP.

I'm beginning to feel like we have our bases covered, and that we have all we'll need to take with us when the time comes. The funeral stuff is still in the works, but at least we're ready to head to the hospital with all of the things we wanted to have to help us savor and capture every memory we can make with our little girl. That in itself is a huge stress-reliever. I've been on-edge about it up until now, knowing that there were still pieces of this puzzle that we were working on, and that if we didn't get it all pieced together in time there would be missed opportunities. I'm feeling more at peace about the idea that we are going to have as positive an experience as possible, and are doing all we can to remember and celebrate our Gracie.

In obstetrical news, I had an appointment with my OB on Thursday which went just about as well as I could have hoped. My blood pressure was normal, and there was no protein in my urine! She did make it relatively clear to me that she does not intend - if I do develop preeclampsia - to wait around for it to "get bad" before intervening. I know that she's right... if I develop preeclampsia, I'm only going to get sicker and sicker. None of us want to end up in an emergency situation, and even worse, I don't want to end up getting so sick that I miss out on time with her. As many of you know our first birth was a rather horrific experience, and we certainly don't need a repeat, especially when our time with her after the birth will be limited.

While "intervening" is a very tricky subject for us, we have at least decided that we're not going to do anything risky with my health. Defining "risky" and drawing the line somewhere is also tricky, and as a "medical person" I probably have more confidence in my own opinions than I should, but I'm trying to remember that God put this OB in my life for a reason, that she knows exceedingly more than I do about these things, and that I need to trust her judgement (as I pray for God to guide her, and to guide us as well) if we are forced to make "the decision" at some point. My prayer is that Gracie will pass peacefully on her own and that the decision will never be in my hands. As much as I wish that we could hang onto her forever, I know that if she passes on her own, sooner rather than later, I will have the best chance at both remaining healthy AND not having to live with having made the decision to deliver her while her heart is still beating. While I hope that I won't carry too much guilt about that if it comes down to it, I fear that I will. I know that at the very least, it will add another layer to the complexity of our grief as we mourn this loss. There are also further risks associated with her reaching later gestational ages (mainly that I would require a C-section - having delivered my son via C-section - and that nontraditional techniques may be required that would put future healthy pregnancies at risk). My heart wants to hang onto her, to hope that she makes it close enough to term that she could survive outside the womb for a time so that we can share a few moments or hours with her, but my logical mind knows that that may not be what's best. Good thing I'm not the one who has to make that call... it's all up to Him.

Part of me also fears that she is suffering in there. I'd like to believe that my womb is a safe, warm place that is sustaining her life and providing comfort, but I have no way of knowing whether that's true. I know that she has nerves and pain receptors that are only growing more mature and sensitive every day. I know that she has several debilitating physical defects that we can see, and countless more functional defects that we cannot see. All I can do is trust God with her tiny body and pray that he spares her any undue suffering, but part of the way I'm dealing with the prospect of losing her soon is by reminding myself that while my heart is clinging to her, I can't bear the thought of her suffering in there for 4+ more months just so that I can have the comfort of meeting her while her heart is still beating.

It's a very complex situation with so many competing risks, facts, emotions and fears. I know I'm doing a terrible job of boiling it down for you - this post is such a hodgepodge of topics - but I think it's a fairly honest reflection of what it's like inside my brain these days... A jumble of thoughts and plans and fears and worries, and even some comforts and joys, but mostly just chaos if we're being honest!