When Jarrett and I first learned we were expecting again, we wondered how to get through yet another stage of uncharted waters. The honest truth is, these last several months have been hard on our family. We grew together but also fell apart together and all of us are at different stages of grief.
Isabelle’s understanding of where Noah is, is at the level of a three-year-old. She still asks me regularly if we can go get Noah from the hospital, if he’s done yet, and why she can’t see him in Heaven when I respond that he’s with Jesus. Michael’s grief is exhibited in behaviors some vocal but mostly through actions of inattentiveness, distraction and anger. We are working through them and I think we are beginning (I hope) to see a tiny light at the end of this long difficult hard road. Gabriel’s response has been mostly quiet, keeping many thoughts I’m sure to himself, and carrying on as if life is okay. He’s much quieter than he’s ever been, maybe more reflective, maybe just not wanting to say anything that could bring back the sadness and tears always just below the surface.
And then there’s Jarrett, he has his moments and days when I can tell the grief hits him more than others, when the pressure of holding us all together is too much, he pauses with watery eyes to say, “I thought of Noah today.” And continues on to reminisce about a memory we have together. And me. I think I could give you a different explanation for how I am at each moment of each day. Honestly some days I’m okay with the reality that I will get to be reunited with my son someday in the future when my days here on earth are through, and other moments I struggle with wondering why he had to leave us, mad that this is the ache we’ve had and have to endure, and questioning what Noah would be doing if he was able to have come home with us. A week or so ago, with my mother in law’s help, we went through Noah’s things (it just happened to be on the 8thmonth of his passing) as I laid in bed (on bed rest). It was emotional but I did my best to hold myself together, trying so hard to focus on the good moments we shared, and the greatness he brought to this world.
I feel fortunate that so many people honor and remember him even still today. So many people have told me that they don’t look at rainbows the same way, that they associate kindness with him and that he still comes into their minds. As Noah’s mother I can only be proud of the goodness he brought to us and sparked in so many people. I feel so blessed to be his mom.
And as much as we miss him, we know he would want us to find a way to be happy, to try and rebuild a life of love, peace and kindness with one another. So we try. In seeing how each of the kids were and still struggle to get through this journey in their own way, Jarrett and I wanted to be as cautious and protective as possible about what this pregnancy could bring. Sadly we know too well the scary sides of pregnancy and we ourselves felt paralyzed with fear, we didn’t want the kids to endure the same. In consulting with the counselors we have grown to trust, we sought their advice. They suggested that instead of making a big deal of our news, instead of surprising the kids with gifts like last time to tell them, that we wait until they noticed something was happening, growing, changing and asked us.
When we heard the recommendation, we both felt like it was the right choice so we held our news quietly between Jarrett and myself. In a way I feel like it was a gift we both could share. It was the happy news we used to support one another through the hard times. First we wanted to get through the first weeks of pregnancy, then the horrible weeks of morning sickness (which I promised myself I wouldn’t complain about this time-and even though it was WAY worse than with Noah, I did my best to uphold that promise.), and then the end of the first trimester and into the second. As we approached the half way point, we felt confident that the kids HAD to notice. Instead we found out they didn’t think twice about the number of hours I lay on the couch, that I didn’t get up to make any meals and that I was constantly battling symptoms of the flu- that they never caught.
As the time went on, we came to joke about it- Dad and I. He’d make a comment about how sick I was and I’d look at him to give him the glare. The boys, who we suspect would be the first to catch on, never did. And to our surprise, the person who actually discovered the truth first was Isabelle. I had just gotten home from a doctors appointment and sat on the couch as she watched Daniel Tiger’s Neighborhood, one of her many shows. At once she paused from watching the show and said, “Mommy, what’s in your tummy?” I responded, “My stomach.” She wasn’t satisfied. “What else is in your tummy Mommy?” I thought for a moment and said, “Isabelle, what do you think is in my tummy?” She, plain-as-day, responded back “I think my baby sister is in your tummy.” I almost fell on the floor, thankfully my ever expanding hips were seated on the couch. My first thought was that someone must have told her. By this point we had shared the news with our parents and I thought someone must have filled her in. But after checking we learned, no secrets were spilled and she, had figured it out.
Even after she figured it out and would ask me about the baby in my tummy with the boys around, they didn’t seem to catch on. Jarrett and I secretly wondered if they knew but didn’t want to say anything. We also wrote it off to boys being boys, kids busy with their own lives, living in the moment. Either way we waited patiently... and they NEVER noticed.
Just over two weeks ago, I was scheduled for my weekly ultrasound where they check on the baby's fluid level and the length of my cervix (sorry tmi). We've learned they like to monitor the cervix very closely as if there are changes that can be a sign of preterm labor. I hadn't felt very good all week but thought it might have been caused from the cold Isabelle had shared with me. At the ultrasound though we learned some frightening news that they saw drastic changes in my cervical length. I was ordered to return home immediately and be on bed rest. While we waited for the report to be sent to my doctor, my anxiety and stress went through the roof, my confidence that we were okay and what happened with Noah wasn't going to happen again was shaken, and I decided I was going to be that totally annoying patient that insisted on getting attention. I called my OB and the Perinatologist's office and it just so happened both of my doctors were out of the office that day. I called back to my OB's office and talked to the receptionist. While very friendly she casually said, "Just leave a message on the nurses line and someone will call you back." It was in that moment I lost it. I started sobbing uncontrollably and went onto tell her I had lost a baby last year due that was born prematurely and that I couldn't handle going through a similar experience again. I begged her, "May I please talk to a doctor, anyone that has a moment to spare?" She must have understood I was have a true crisis (my words) and immediately transferred me through to Dr. A nurse. I tried to stop myself from the ugly snotty cry so that at least she could understand me. She was very supportive and said she wanted me to stay on bed rest, she was going to call and talk with Dr. A, even though it was his day off, and that she would call me back. At the same time a friend from Dr. E's office texted me to inquire what had happened as she had heard about my panicked call to their office. She was so supportive and told me she'd talk to Dr. E to see what he recommended.
To make a long, very stressful story short both doctors responded very quickly, gave me orders to stay in bed and go to the hospital if anything major changed and that they would see me the following morning. We reached out and asked for prayers. That afternoon, with fear raging through our hearts and minds, Jarrett and I made the decision, it was time to tell the boys.
That afternoon Jarrett picked up the boys from school and called them into our room, where I was tucked into bed. The boys stood at the foot of our bed and could tell immediately the seriousness of the conversation we were about to have. It reminded me so much of those talks we'd have when they'd ask about Noah's health and how he was doing. I hated that this was the way they were finding out. Jarrett started by asking the boys if they had noticed anything different about mom. They said they hadn't noticed anything. Dad continued by saying, "Maybe you've seen that mom hasn't been feeling that great or has laid on the couch a lot?" The boys looked puzzled and were keenly turning back and forth between dad and I to see what signs we were giving off. Dad then said, "Well Mom hasn't felt that great lately because she's pregnant again." Unlike the last time when the kids found out and there were shouts of joy and excitement, this time the announcement was met with uncertainty and obvious fear. Dad went onto explain that the doctors wanted me to stay in bed for a while to make sure the baby stayed inside and to grow bigger. That is when the questions started. Gabriel asked, "Is this baby healthy?" To which we said yes. Followed by the question, "Is this baby bigger than Noah?" To which we had to say "Not yet" since we were only 22.5 weeks along. The final question was about if we knew it was a boy or a girl, to which Jarrett said, "Its a girl." Michael then asked, "Is there any chance she could change to a boy?" To which we laughed, thank goodness as it broke the seriousness of the conversation and finally brought laughter into the news. We assured Michael she would be staying a girl. At that point the boys hugged me, told me they loved me and disappeared out of the room.
Jarrett told me later that night the boys had several more questions for him and that they were excited about the news. He said he just thought it was concerning for them to see me in bed and worried that what happened with Noah was happening again. While I hoped this wouldn't have been the way they would have found out, I am glad the news is out.
In the two weeks that the whole family has known, talking about the baby has been a great source of joy for all of us. The boys ask me everyday when they get home from school how the baby is, and if she's gotten any bigger. Isabelle is fascinated with the baby liking to pet my stomach and ask me if the baby can see in the dark inside my tummy. Just this past weekend the baby was moving all around and I asked the boys if they wanted to feel her. Michael went first and as he held his hand to my stomach the baby kicked. As he felt her his eye lit up and a smile from ear to ear appeared on his face. He said, "Wow, she's really strong." And then it was Gabriel's turn who had just come in from playing outside and didn't get to see Michael's experience. Michael said, "Gabriel do you want to feel the baby?" Gabriel said sure and put his hand on my stomach just as she moved her arm with a sudden burst toward the outside of my belly. It was strong enough that my entire stomach moved. Gabriel's first reaction was to yank his hand away. "Oh my gosh" he said, "I had no idea she could kick that hard." That afternoon the boy's friend Harlan came over to play and before he could even get in the door the boys had shared with him that they got to feel their baby sister kick. It was clear it was a memorable moment for them.
We pray for many more weeks/months that she will stay comfy inside and that we can continue to get to know her through her kicks and punches through my stomach. While its only been a short time that we've all known about her, the love, joy and happiness she has brought to our family has been so so great.
Here's a little video of baby girl sucking on her hand and fingers.
We are all in love with our little baby girl.
Until next time,
Angie
