Happy 2nd Birthday

Happy Birthday, Huxley! Today I am… existing. It’s your birthday and I wonder, do you celebrate birthdays in Heaven? Is there a reason to…eternity and all? Would the celebrations be bigger for the day you enter Heaven over the day you are born to Earth, in that case yesterday or possibly even the day before for you? Is it an “all March celebrations we celebrate you all now” or is it individual, detailed, and intimate? I have so many new questions. Would we celebrate us in Heaven at all when we have Jesus to celebrate and worship every day for everything. What does this look like in Heaven?

Here, we celebrated, remembered, and mourned. We had some big plans actually. Our “plan A” was to take a military space available flight to Hawaii and celebrate among some of the most beautiful views of God’s creation. I was excited to feel close through being in the wilds and greenery that is Hawaii. However, grief, work, and life stresses became too overwhelming, and that plan was put to an end about a week before departure. Instead, one of my best friends suggested a simpler time like all other birthdays we celebrate. It seems like I am always trying to make up for him not being here that I let go of what our regular and true to us traditions are. Simple birthdays, sometimes guests sometimes not. Always adventure. Always cake. Always love. She suggested making it special by doing something outside even if it isn’t Hawaii, it is still His creation and then she said, “go camping even if it’s just in the backyard”. Billy and I decided that would be perfect for the amount of overwhelm we were experiencing and the amount of time from work we had available, as well as the funds would allow. The kids loved it. We woke up on his birthday outside with it raining on our tent. Rain wasn’t expected but it was a lovely gift…the next part of our plan was a nearby hike- while the rain was welcome for the wake up it did thwart our hike plans as it continued all day. Fitting. With some more readjusting we stayed in, played games together, ate finger foods we thought would be a 2-year-olds favorites. We decorated the dining room with our usual Happy Birthday sign, two balloons on a highchair set out for Huxley, and a big ole cake.

It’s been a weird day, a slow day. I simultaneously want the day to be over so I can just not feel the pressure of “did we celebrate well enough” but I would also love for it to last for many more hours so I can soak up all the emotions as they come instead of shrugging them off. Maybe it’s that I know tonight’s feelings are where it will hit the heaviest and I don’t really want to get there but I also want that wave to be over. I’m ready to be alone and cry. Be alone and feel. Not that I don’t feel comfortable to do those things in front of any number of people, especially my family, but I am easily distracted or thrown into thoughts of “others first” when they are around. Besides they have their own thoughts and emotions piling up too. Being respectful and available to each other is of higher importance right now. Sitting by myself and just talking to God, it’s what moves the emotions through, and I want to do that, and I want to avoid that. It doesn’t make sense unless you’ve been there, and I get that.

Today I mourn, remember, and celebrate.

I MOURN that Hux isn’t here with us. I get sad looking at an empty highchair where he belongs sitting next to his siblings, I mourn the ideas we have of him toddling around this house and backyard. I remember the impact his life has had these last 2 years and 9 months. I REMEMBER the connections made, kindness shared, and compassion built. I CELEBRATE his life. I would choose him every single time over even knowing how life would be. I celebrate the lives he’s changed for the better. I celebrate the way God has used his life to the goodness of His kingdom. I celebrate being his mom.

We have other amazing friends came over to watch our older two. Billy and I wanted time for reflection this year. Time for quiet. We struggled asking for this because all we truly want is to be with all of our children. It feels weird to leave them on a day when we miss one and desire togetherness. However, our emotions are high, our fuses short, and they are still young children. We wanted to allow them to behave as such, but we also know our limitations and the need for us to quiet our minds. Our dear friends came with dinner for the kids, they brought gifts for us as well. Sweet treats, a gift card for Billy and I to grab dinner while we were out. They even cleaned our house and played with our kids. Such kind, out of the way gestures, some grand and some simple but ALL that make this hard day a little more bearable. We are so grateful for them as well as my friend who helped me come up with a plan B that actually felt worthy, we are grateful to our friends who are far and sent messages or gifts remembering Huxley and us today. Grateful for family and friends who messaged or called to share their longing and love for him and us and their kindness to also allow us space to be together on our own. It feels like we’ve had people go above and beyond for us this year. This empty day was made a little fuller. Thank you.

Two years is still considered early grief. I can understand why. I try to be hopeful. I really do. If not for me then for everyone else. For this all to be palatable to read and watch. Honestly, though… well that makes it sound like I am just now about to be honest when in reality it’s all honest. The hopeful parts too. However, it would be deceiving to not add the despairing parts too. It’s hard going to sleep hugging a stuffed animal meant to “represent” your child. It’s hard remembering how he felt in your arms and knowing you can’t have that again. It’s hard looking at your two kids enjoying cake made for your third while his chair sits empty with balloons tied to it. It’s hard to have plans and have them pulled out from underneath you when all you want is to get away. It’s hard to lose a child. It’s hard to write and tell you that. It’s hard to watch your kids put on baby carriers and bring their brothers stuffies with them so he can “go on a walk with us”. It’s hard. I have this difficult opportunity to love and worship Christ in the hard. We will not always have it hard. There will come a day when we worship Him and there will be no tears, no sickness, no sadness, no betrayal, no fear and we will worship Him. But right now, I have this strange and seemingly foreign opportunity to worship Him in the hard. I will try. The hope is real. So is the hurt.

We remember Huxley everyday but today we celebrate him too. Happy Birthday little Hux. We love you. We love you. Thank you, Lord for his life and for your Glory in it.

The Sufferers Holiday

It feels like the holidays are just kicking me down at every turn this year. I expected that. But I didn’t expect the extent to which I felt it. There was a GriefShare seminar at my church recently and it gave some good pointers as for what to expect and how to take the punches. It was helpful but in all honesty, I didn’t think I needed a lot of it, until I did.
I got really sad at thanksgiving. Being around a big group of family and just feeling the sense that we were missing an extra little one taking the spotlight of the day. It was just heavy. That day, I left to a secluded room and laid down for a bit by myself, I also had a wonderful conversation with my grandmother about loss. I understand her in a way I never expected to. She was comforting and gave me a good little pep talk… which included tears and about 30 hugs and encouragement.
The next day is traditionally when we decorate. Samuel was very aware of this and wouldn’t let us get away with not starting immediately and I was excited to move into my favorite time of year too. Once we brought out the decorations though, I froze, and cried, and hated the idea of decorating. How was I going to add Huxleys presence and bring memories and tradition with him when he’d never been a part of the holidays with us. But I couldn’t leave them the same and pretend he isn’t a huge part of our lives or that because he never celebrated with us that we would just… leave him out. No, that wasn’t an option. All of a sudden everything was so overwhelming. We’re about 9 months into this and I keep thinking it’ll end soon, it won’t. It shouldn’t.
I’ve had stronger feelings as time has passed. It really doesn’t get easier and sometimes I still have the hardest day I’ve ever had even though I’m 9 months out from the actual worst day of my life. I never believed someone could actually die from heartbreak. I believe differently now. There have been many nights that I was scared to go to sleep thinking my heart would just stop beating from sadness. I told Billy this recently and he said he’d had the same thought.
Something that is harder than going through heartache like this is watching your partner go through heartache like this. He’s my best friend. Watching him hurt is so so hard and brings on its own feelings of grief and sadness that I can’t change. This season felt like I dropped all the pieces of me again. I had pulled them all together and put them safely in a bag and had even started putting me back together and this season shook me until every piece fell back to the ground.

BUT. But God. At that GriefShare program “surviving the holidays” seminar I heard some of the best little nuggets to carry with me and I’m so grateful. One being that while we all think of Christmas as this happy and jolly holiday when we think about it’s origin or why we celebrate its to celebrate the birth of Christ. Then when you think further why did Christ come? He came for us. For the broken. For the sinner. For the hurting. If there wasn’t sadness, death, and sin, there wouldn’t have been the need to be saved. There would be no reason for Jesus to be born. So this holiday is the sufferers holiday. This celebration is for those who are sad, hurt, and “too far gone” He came for us. To save us. To love us. They said something like it’s natural to want to run from this holiday but if you can pivot your perspective just a little it will make you want to run straight for this holiday! This holiday season is sad for many but be encouraged, this day of celebrating our Lord being born is one to celebrate big BECAUSE of our sadness/hardship/trauma/sin because He came to save you FROM it.

I share the first part of this message to be open that while I believe the second part of this post whole heartedly I still have the days that look like the first part and they are allowed to coexist for me and for you no matter what you’re dealing with.
Hard days don’t necessarily mean bad days. And good days aren’t always easy. Sometimes it’s easier to have a bad day actually. Sometimes even in the hard days, I feel good about my place with Christ and my thoughts on our family and Huxley. I’m not sure why I say that. I think it’s because I often say I have had a hard day but I don’t always mean I’ve had a miserable day or even bad. It’s just been hard to move through. Hard isn’t bad. It’s just hard. So if you hear me say that, I’m alright. I could maybe use a hug or prayer or a friend to chat with but you don’t have to assume that I hate life or anything. On the contrary, I’m very honored to be placed in my family where I am. I’m honored to be my kids, all three of them, mom. I’m honored to be where God has put me in whatever ways that looks. Even to be a mom who has had great loss and to be hopeful for what God will do on this journey for us, through us, and for others.

I write for me but I share for others

Gosh, I really never meant for this blog to become a journal of Huxley and our journey but I know that one day I’ll forget some of the details and one day when someone else is going through this I want to say YES, those feelings are valid and not just say it but 100% make them feel not alone and I want to remember the small strange things that were hard that I didn’t anticipate being hard. Often times it’s the small things you wouldn’t think of that are the hardest simply because you didn’t think of them. I want to remember those examples to hopefully help someone else before they get to those things and help prepare because there’s soooo many things you just can’t prepare for so a heads up in some of those areas would just be helpful. Also just to give insight to those who haven’t gone through this but may have a friend that has. My village or tribe or people (whatever you like to call the people you do life with) have been incredible more so than I would have known how to be in their position and I want to share some of things they taught me in how to respond. I also want you to have a glimpse of what life is looking like even when it looks okay (because it isn’t always), that’s the one thing I’ve heard a lot of, is appreciating the vulnerability to share that glimpse because not everyone will want to but it can help us all understand how to respond to those we love regardless of what they want or are able to share. Lastly, I hope this reaches some non believers and that God may use our story to speak to you. Of course, one day I anticipate writing about other things as well but for now… this is where I’m at.

Huxley part four: I am safe. L&D

One major fear I had after we lost Huxley that I hadn’t expressed yet was the thought of Billy walking out completely alone, without a child and without a wife. Now to fully explain this I need to go back to the night before. This is when everything was still okay for us. We didn’t know we’d lost Huxley at this point and I was going over my birthing affirmations. I didn’t do this with Samuel but I did with Molly and there was one affirmation that stuck out back then and I told Billy what it was and asked him to repeat it more often than the others. He did and it was great, calming and a good comfort during labor. So the night before I was going over my affirmations and I expected the same one to comfort me but instead it was a different one. One that made no sense to me either. It read “You are safe”. I found it weird because when I wrote it on a card… well I almost didn’t because it wasn’t like the others I lit I figured I might as well put all the ones I found. The others are phrases like “you are strong and every contraction brings you closer to your baby”. Some we’re scriptures that I found encouraging, etc so “you are safe” was a little out of place for me because it wasn’t really a major fear of mine at this point but God knew. I was reading these notecards with the affirmations on them and that one kept just relaxing me and bringing me comfort and peace. I told Billy and we chuckled as he asked “are you nervous or something” I said “actually, no but this is what’s comforting me so use it”! And we laughed some more.

Fast forward to after we lost Huxley and labor was getting stronger, everyone had left and it was just me, Billy, and Brooke. Billy stepped out to make a phone call or take a breather or maybe cry I’m not really sure but it was just me and Brooke in the room and she saw I looked either different or distressed or worried and asked what’s going on besides the obvious? I just told her I was nervous and mad and just wanting the rest of the day to “go my way” whatever that even means because I’d have taken anything not going my way to just have Huxley but anyways, she offered to pray with me and I don’t remember the whole prayer but she said “Lord, let Katina know she’s safe, she is safe with you…” after she finished I broke down and told her I was scared. Not really of losing my life but what it would mean if I did and that I didn’t want Billy walking out completely empty handed. Then I shared that the affirmation, that was so so comforting to me just the night before that I had completely forgotten about and even thought was silly at the time, she had just prayed for right then without even knowing it and a wave of peace surrounded me. I thought “Oh yeah, He sees me, He knows me and every fear and every moment of my life. He knew every moment of Huxleys life” and while I don’t believe losing Huxley was His will, I do believe that He is not surprised by that day or any day before it or any day since.
I asked if she’d spoken with Billy about that affirmation and she hadn’t. She had no idea that those words had a specific hold on me. I didn’t even know they had a hold on me. But God knew. He knew what I’d be going through and He knew what my fears would be and He prepared me to let me know He was there, He sees me and He loves me. I needed the reminder. I still struggle with the goodness of God some days. I know He is good. Sometimes I just have a little fight within and want to yell “but then why this”! Then I remember that’s not what faith looks like and he shows me day in and day out that He is indeed good.

Anyways, from there I felt safe to move forward. Labor felt like forever, I don’t think that’s specific to me though. All of my labors have felt like forever and anyone who has been pregnant probably feels the same. I worked really hard for a long time laboring in all the ways, Billy and Brooke doing all the things to help me. (Can I just say how amazing Billy is. He’s amazing always has been but especially during labor. I couldn’t ever have a better partner than the one I have in him. And Brooke was amazing too, I think very highly of her and will forever be bonded to her).

I wound up using some narcotics to help me space out some. I wouldn’t have used them if Huxley were alive and I don’t think my (also very amazing) doctor would have let me either but they were doing all things to help me get through this. At 9 cm I had been laboring for quite some time and got the epidural. This was a question in the room amongst staff as to why I wouldn’t get one sooner in a situation like this. The answer is simple: I have bad reactions to them and didn’t want it. But I was tired and had been at it for a long time, had pitocin which amped up the contractions, and was starting to fall apart at the idea of meeting my sweet baby boy. I got the epidural, I think I took a nap, at some point my cervix started swelling and was given Benadryl to help that but it in turn also made me sleepy. Finally I was complete and ready to push. I pushed for over 3 hours. I remember asking strange questions like peoples favorite states to visit, and I’m pretty sure I was passing out from exhaustion. Then the time came when he was getting close and he was crowning and this vbac was seemingly successful. I birthed his entire head and then he got stuck. I begged the doctor to just pull him out. I was done being pregnant. I was done pushing. I was done with this whole worst day ever. I hadn’t really grieved much yet and I was ready to start but I needed to be done and holding him now. I begged and she couldn’t. She did everything. My doctor was incredible and kind and compassionate the entire time and every day I’ve seen her since. She cried the entire time with each new thing that failed to get him all the way out. She tried hooking his shoulder to get him in a better position to finish his delivery. But it didn’t work. She looked at Brooke and said “he’s not coming out vaginally, I can’t get his shoulder. He’s stuck” over hearing her I said “what does that mean? His head is already out can’t you just pull him the rest of the way”? “no” and with tears streaming down her face she said “I have to push him back in”

Push him back in? I’m pretty sure I looked at every person in the room to see if this was some kind of joke because I didn’t know that was possible. No one was laughing. Everyone had the same look on their face as I did mine. Wide eyes, jaw dropped, and a confusion as to what this would actually look like. I stopped feeling all things in this moment and asked “what is that even going to feel like”? With the sound of heartbreak in her voice she said “just like it sounds” and she was right. That’s exactly how it felt. Horrible. Terrified, I screamed while she cried and Billy held onto me. They readied the operating room and then we had Huxley. I had a vaginal tear, abdominal surgery, a hematoma on my bladder, bruised ribs that I would feel later on, and a broken heart. I was asleep soon after or maybe even during. I woke up to the sobs of my sweet husband much later and fell back out of reality not ready to take on what being awake held. I wish I could have been there better for him in that moment. But I was safe and Huxley was next to me with Billy on my other side and he wouldn’t leave empty handed. We’d get through this together hand in hand someday.

The next week in the hospital would be full of high blood pressure and preeclampsia scare, grief, and lots of amazing friends and family coming to cry along side us.
It’s fair to say that it was the worst week of my life but even with that I have to mention how much I have been blessed with the most amazing community throughout all of this. I don’t write these blogs to have anyone feel sorry for me but to show the grace of God which I will be focusing more on as I get the story out. But to understand the depth of His grace I have to show the depth of this pain for us, all of this, all of our lives are what we use to glorify Him so I have to share the tragic times to show His grace and love and peace for me and I have to share Huxleys name and his life. He matters. His life matters no matter how short he does have purpose. God blessed us with the best team and me with the best partner in Billy and with the most amazing church who are the hands and feet of Christ and stopped their lives to grieve with us and to love on us and to help us in ALL of the ways. I’m so in awe when I think about my family and the church and our friends, that even though I am full of sorrow I am also filled with joy to be a part of what they are doing. Of who HE has called us to be and a part of His kingdom with them.

Huxley Part 3: Getting ready for labor and delivery

The next few hours were really long. Most of the nurses left to let us be for a while. We called our doula, Brooke, and she headed straight over. She cried with us and held space for us. Helped us understand what was most likely to come next and didn’t leave our side for the next 24+ hours. I’m so grateful for her support not only through labor and delivery but also through our loss and everyday since. After she got there the nurses came and asked questions and filled us in on the steps we were required to take before Huxley was born. She helped us get info for a funeral home, set up someone to come take pictures and then we had to make a bunch of decisions for Huxley that we weren’t prepared for. I just remember the list of questions being quite long but don’t remember the actual questions themselves. The nurses were amazing and said at any moment we could take a break and come back to the questions but it was almost easier to just plow through them. If I stopped and started too many times it would have just broken me down through my core and I still needed the strength and energy to birth Huxley. Not to mention some sort of mindset that said “I can do this” even though every fiber of me said I can’t.

With Brooke there and some time to comprehend what was happening we called our parents. Phone calls I will never forget. I didn’t want to tell them because I didn’t want to be the person to break their hearts. But it had to come from us. We didn’t want anyone else doing it. I remember every word and how each word sounded and felt coming out for each call. I covered my face as I told each of them as if I were ashamed to have lost my baby. I knew it wasn’t my fault and they weren’t going to blame me but still there was shame in having to admit our loss. Then we text or called a few close friends, our pastor, and Billy informed his boss what was happening.

Then we waited for my doctor to make it in after they informed her too. It took some time but when she walked in she immediately cried with us. She hugged us and then my doctor, our doula, and both Billy and I talked about what was next. I still had to birth him. My original plan was as natural as possible and since I needed to be induced we would try other options before pitocin and move from there. But after you lose your baby full term, the pull for going in for a cesarean is really strong. She assured me the choice was mine and she’d help me in any way I requested. So the four of us laid out the options and everyone was truthfully on my side and reminding me I could do this any which way and I would be strong enough to handle it and no way meant I was weak. So I went ahead with my normal plan. Natural birth as a vbac trial and the fewest interventions we could manage with the exception of going ahead with pitocin to move things along. I was torn between starting and waiting. At this point it had been a few hours, they were just waiting for me to say go. I wasn’t quite ready yet.

How is a mother suppose to labor and deliver her sleeping baby with strength, dignity, and courage when every affirmation I practiced told me I could do this because it would bring my baby into my arms. Every pain would bring him closer. I would soon meet him and hear him and get to take him home with me. I would get to start my life with him in it. The reality was, every pain took him further away from me. It was one pain closer to him being gone forever. It was a moment closer to accepting this new reality. I was in this difficult place of wanting to keep him in my womb and as close to me as possible. Not having to share him or leave him. I could keep him “safe” and away from this world or maybe it was to keep ME safe from the reality of this day. But the other part of me wanted to see him fully and wanted to give Billy the chance to hold his son and share all the moments we could together with Huxley and our older two as best we could. Then there was this third part of me that said I can’t hold this death in me any longer. It’s killing me. Spiritually and emotionally and mentally it was overwhelming me. Thankfully natural labor took progression and I didn’t have to make the decision of when. This allowed me to give the go everyone needed to start their part in delivering Huxley and we started the official induction without much other choice.

Before I labored too intensely my mom, step dad, and dad all came to see us, many nurses stopped by to give their condolences and gifts even, our pastor came to pray, and even my husbands boss and the base chaplain came to pray as well. A bereavement doula dropped off a gift and some extra information for us to help with everything we would encounter later as well. And honestly I’m not sure if others came by. I can’t remember everything in this period of time, I’ve ask for Billy and others to fill in gaps for my memory but I was quite occupied with many emotions and a lot of work ahead of me so just know if I didn’t mention you and you came- I appreciate it and if you came but weren’t allowed in to see us until later please know that I asked for some peace and it seemed as though I would need it with what was to come. They stopped allowing people in at my request and now just kept it at the intended limit of people in the room for delivery. At this point labor was strong and constant but I was doing well. Surprisingly, I was holding it together. Billy was holding it together. Brooke was there at our side praying and encouraging us and helping keep visitors updated and explaining some of the medical terminology to us all. My doctor was around more often than expected and working with us every step and keeping us informed with what the action steps could look like at every turn. There were many turns too. It felt like we were being thrown about back and forth in a terrible storm.

Huxley- Part Two: Finding out

We showed up to the hospital early and I had been a little worried because I hadn’t felt Huxley move in a little while but nothing that should actually be too concerning or that was out of the ordinary for him. He usually spent some time not moving much- he was big and really cozy and I knew he was getting cramped. But also I was heading into the hospital anyways so if something was wrong they would surely catch it since I was just getting to the point of worry.

They called us back and started to get us set up. We were placed in one of the newest rooms. You could even say it was one of the BEST rooms. It was large, clean, updated, and had an amazing spot for Billy to rest. After oohing and ahhing at the blessing that would be, I got changed, Billy settled in and we started to get monitors on. Since I’ve done this before, I knew to ask for the wireless monitors because the other ones usually drive me crazy! The nurse was nice and said she’d track them down for me. While we waited we laughed and talked about what games we’d play while I waited for labor to get intense. The nurse came back enthused that they weren’t already being used and was happy to make me happy. With that we got started and I was happy. I had accepted the fact of having an induction, God had been so good to help me through the entire pregnancy and give me an amazing care team to guide me through, I was happy and we were ready.

She prepped me for getting the monitors on and then tried to find a good reading on Huxley. She couldn’t but we weren’t worried. We thought his antics were silly and right on par for him. She assured us that those monitors can sometimes be difficult. She grabbed another nurse to help find his heartbeat. She couldn’t and assured us that as babies move lower it can be difficult to find the heartbeat and he was quite low. They grabbed another tool to search, then another nurse. Billy and I were starting to wonder as we sat there with so many nurses touching and moving me but still unable to secure that beautiful sound of a heartbeat. They were asking which way he was positioned at my last visit and when the last time I felt him move was and the last time I heard his heartbeat, which place on my stomach they usually found his heartbeat. Billy and I gave reassuring glances at one another as we answered the questions that everything WAS fine. But we began to pray, just in case.

Finally the nurses said they were going to get the doctor who was on call to do an ultrasound while we waited on an ultrasound tech because that would be best. The group of nurses stood staring as the doctor said with little to no emotion “your human isn’t moving. The only movement I see is when you breathe.” And she repeated it over and over again. It didn’t register to Billy or me that she was telling us Huxley had passed. We just thought she just wasn’t as skilled with ultrasounds and was telling us to wait patiently for the ultrasound technician to come. After all, the doctor was only saying “your human isn’t moving” not that he wasn’t breathing or his heart wasn’t beating. She was wrong. She had to be. He would move as soon as we got to the highest limit of our worry. Then all the nurses and the doctor stepped back and watched as the technician came in. She started to look and said “I’m so sorry but do you want to see his face. I got a picture of his face for you” to which Billy and I looked in disbelief at each other and back at her and I said “wait, so he has no heartbeat”? She said “no, he doesn’t. I’m so sorry” immediately Billy and I started crying he hugged me and quickly said “it’s not your fault. This is not your fault” he kept hugging me while we both sobbed and the tech got as many sonogram pictures as she could. Every person in the room that morning witnessed one of my worst moments up to that point in life (many more moments like it were to come in the next 24hours) and they were sobbing with us. Not a trickle of tears but full streams of tears from each of them as they watched us break.

Huxley-Part One: The background

It’s time again to put thoughts down on paper- figuratively, at least. I have to recount that day all of the events, the looks, the labor, the physical side of this story. It’s one of only one story that I have with Huxley and even though it’s traumatic… it’s tangible. And beautiful. And raw too. So I’m going to tell it.

For background, my pregnancies are generally quite fine but I have pretty hard labor and deliveries. With Samuel, I had an easy pregnancy but ended with gallstones and gallbladder attack in labor, postpartum preeclampsia, and a c section. With Molly I had an okay pregnancy with preeclampsia towards the end, high blood pressure before and after delivery, but a vbac after a failed/scary experience with an epidural. So because my blood pressure likes to be wonky and labor and delivery are generally quite hard and scary we decided to hire a doula as well as have our care team at the hospital. This was going to offer us the best scenario for birthing in the way we wanted and gave us many options and knowledge from our OB and doula for anything that might come up.

With all of that, my pregnancy with Huxley wasn’t easy. It was probably the hardest actually. In terms of pains and incidents at least. I got sick with a stomach bug and passed out and knocked my head on our tiled tub, had round ligament pains and heartburn that wouldn’t budge and not for lack of trying EVERYTHING. Even though it was my hardest, it was also my healthiest pregnancy in terms of controlling my blood pressure, taking good care of my diet and taking the right supplements and having enough nutrients for me and Huxley all the way through. It was also the best in terms of readying my body to birth. I had all the tools I needed. My doula made sure of it. And my doctor saw all the benefits.

On Tuesday I went for a normal check up I was 39 weeks and my blood pressure had just started to creep up. It wasn’t anything too bad but based on a prior ultrasound the week before saying baby was estimated about 9.6 lbs and my history of high blood pressure in pregnancy, and the fact that this was another attempt at a vbac, my doctor wanted to induce. Something I absolutely did not want but agreed to do Thursday to give myself a chance to go into spontaneous labor over the next 36 hours. She checked Huxley and his heart rate was strong and steady. The following day was normal. I tried all the exercises, drank all the tea, walked all the miles and also did normal life like take my big little guy to a morning class and I went to get adjusted with my chiropractor and drank my water and ate good and spicy foods. With no luck in starting labor… I rested. The next morning we headed to the hospital to be induced. We were sad about being induced but excited to know we were on our way to bringing our baby boy into our arms.

The next step

We’ve gone through many steps and I haven’t written about all of them. Some it’s too soon, some it was too early on for me to wrap my head around, others I’m just not ready to sit and process right now. But I know that writing has helped me, to at the very least, not replay all of the words over and over throughout the days and nights. So here goes another post. Thanks for being here.

Last week Billy went back to work. I was scared. We’d been living in this bubble and that bubble was about to burst and with it possibly my heart, again. We had prepared for months and months before Huxley was born to be taking care of a newborn with two other small children and I’d prepared my heart, my energy, my strategy for getting snacks and meals on the table, all revolving around a new normal with an infant. But instead we are faced with a completely different new normal that is quite similar to our old routine. Two small children while Billy works and I tend to all things on the home front. That made me so nervous and sad. Not only that though, I was worried for what Billy’s heart and mind would go through being at work, away from us, possibly in a quiet office, or dealing with high task and time consuming projects while his mind was wanting to be elsewhere. Thankfully he chose not to fly his first week back because I would have been an even bigger nervous wreck thinking about him operating a plane in that mental state. I worried about Billy being at work and people who hadn’t heard asking “how’s the newborn” and him having to answer with the dreaded “we lost him” forcing their well intended kind and celebratory questions into mourning and awkwardness and unease.

Fortunately, we were recently introduced to some new friends who have walked a similar path to ours who have been an amazing source of comfort and wisdom for us and they were able to give us a few warnings and pointers and while you can never really be prepared for these conversations, we were aware they’d likely happen. And they did. And they will continue and that’s okay. We’re glad that people want to celebrate what should have been and we aren’t shy to answer questions. I like to talk about Huxley and really anything pregnancy and birth related to me or otherwise. But I especially love to share and talk about Huxley even if the questions are hard or awkward or personal or even make us sad. I don’t mind, really. But I worried for Billy having to go through it still.
I worried a lot for that first week back but I didn’t account for the fact that I still couldn’t lift Molly or even a jug of milk then and my mom and women from my church would be coming over daily to help me with the kids and around the house. Meaning I didn’t need to worry because I wouldn’t really be alone yet. I’m so grateful for everything they’ve all done. I’m grateful they had to be there to help me because I didn’t really have a chance to get too into my feelings and it kind of lightened the blow of that first week back. Crisis averted. Or actually, postponed.
This last Monday I was released to drive and lift the kids and physically do most things. I was passed the worry of the week prior but now was when I would actually be alone and going through it (with the big kids but still alone as an adult in my house where I be lost in my own thoughts). I was finally going to see what this new normal/old routine would look like. It wasn’t too bad at first. I mean, I sleep a lot and am unmotivated to do very much so we sit outside in the sun and the kids watch tv while I rest and do nothing but watch them be. We eat snacks instead of meals most days but it wasn’t too terrible. Not like I thought it would be… until Wednesday. We got a package from some work people Billy met on his last trip out of state and they sent a beautiful frozen meal from a company and everything looked amazing. I called Billy to tell him how kind it was and that he should message them a thank you for the wonderful meal (meals are hard for us to make still. It takes a little more brain and energy than I have right now) and that we were thankful for their thoughtfulness. After I got off the call I sat down next to Samuel who was building a Lego at the table where the package was and the dry ice that was in the box had a very distinct smell, it smelled like Huxley (or maybe his care cottage, which is basically a very cold bassinet for a recently passed infant or stillborn so that parents can be near their baby for up to 5 days after they pass). I associated that smell with Huxley. With loss. With the worst days of my life. It wrecked me. Dry ice shook me so hard that it spun into anger. I was so mad at God. I know God didn’t cause this. I know he didn’t will this. I know he weeps with us and for us and stores up every tear I’ve cried. But in that moment the only question I could sob was “but why did you LET it happen” I was angry and knew I needed to tell someone so I asked a handful of friends to pray. Each one of them did something different and each thing so necessary that I immediately felt seen and known and loved. That’s how God works. Even when we’re mad at him and pounding on his chest and screaming “why” at him he says “come to me” and he hugs us and he uses people to show His love. By the way, if you’re reading this and wondering why I didn’t message you for prayer… it’s probably because I thought I was going to see or talk to you that day at some point. Not that I need to excuse myself for who I message at any moment but some of the people I didn’t message are some of my closest friends and family. Idk God knew what I needed and who I needed to message and it worked out….

One friend immediately answered “I’m praying for you now”- I needed that. I needed to know someone was available to pray right then. Another called me after I’d gathered myself and she cried with me over the phone- I had told her earlier this month that I felt so bad for making others cry because of what we were going through and she said the most powerful words “it’s an honor to cry with you for Huxley” I needed that. Another sent her prayer in text- I needed that. I always love to see words and I needed to SEE hers. She said “I pray you feel seen” and “he knows you katina he knows every hair on your head” and she said “yeah, this sucks” and she validated me and my hard day. Another texted words of encouragement and truth of who God is and His promises for me. That’s the power of God y’all! Only He can do that. Later that day I had Bible study and I chose not to go. I took the kids to their church classes and decided I’d walk the beach until Billy could meet me after work. But last minute instead of going to the beach I got a strong hankering for a pink drink from Starbucks so I said you know what I’ll go there, sit outside where I can still see the water and read. After I sat down and opened my book someone drove through the drive thru and stared me down to the point of unease and then she rolled down her window and said “is your name Katina” why yes, it is and then her voice clicked in my head and I saw a sweet friend I haven’t seen in over a decade! She said “Katina, I’ve been wanting to give you a hug all week” and all I could mutter was “I could really use one right now” and she CRAWLED OVER THE RAILING …BAREFOOT and gave me a wonderful hug. She left and I cried sitting there until Billy met me and when I tell you God sees us, I mean it. He sees us in every day, in every emotion, in every way he knows our heart and what we need before we say a word. I know anger is a normal step through grief but I’m thankful for a short burst this time. I’m thankful to a God who isn’t letting me sit there too long. I know I’ll have more waves of anger but I will continue to ask for prayer, and seek Him in the midst of trial, through every step and every day my prayer is to know Him more.

Happy Mother’s Day

Happy Mother’s Day. It truly is a happy Mother’s Day and I am so grateful to be a mom to three beautiful babies but I am struggling to find the right words to get through any kind of “happy Mother’s Day” post. Mostly because this is a hard day for me this year. I’m not sure it will always be this hard but this year it is. This is the first Mother’s Day I’m celebrating incomplete. I’m missing a key component to this day. My third child. It’s hard to believe that I will always be this incomplete. Today there were moments where it was hard to breathe but there were moments that were beautiful and filled with joy with my older two babies too.
Today Samuel was so excited to give me my present, socks with his and Mollys faces. They are perfect! Molly made me a necklace with her fingerprints and hand print flowers at church. It was a lovely day feeling all the beautiful things motherhood has blessed me with. But I’d be lying if I didn’t mention the sorrow I felt today for being a mom of a baby that isn’t here. Motherhood has changed and challenged me in so many ways. I’m a better person, I’m learning so much about Gods love through being a mom, I have grown less selfish and more compassionate to those around me. All in all I am so grateful to be a mom. I love my role as a mom. I will never, not ever, take for granted the beauty in motherhood. I am so incredibly thankful for the good, the bad, the hard, and the unbearably sorrowful parts of my journey that are all because of the immense and so fiercely intense love that I have for each of my children. I am thankful to be a mom and I will joyfully take on all that God has planned in motherhood for me. I will glorify Him in the purpose He has given me in being a mom. And I will rest assured of His love for me and my babies in this journey as a mama to a baby that He is holding close on this day.

Happy Mother’s Day to my mom whom I love so much and have learned strength and grace from. Happy Mother’s Day to the mamas who are like mamas to me in church and in life who encourage and grow my love for God each day. To my sister and sisters in laws who are incredible moms to their kids and wonderful aunts to my children. I have so many wonderful relationships and mom figures surrounding me as you can see. Even my closest friends are some of the best moms in the world. I am so grateful for each one of you for your example, guidance, love, and dedication to not only your own families but to my family and myself as well. You all being mothers around me, to me, and with me have changed my life for the better and make this motherhood journey even more filled with joy. Happy Mother’s Day to you all.

Shattered. Broken. Pieced back together.

I get asked often how I’m doing or what I’m thinking about (especially when I stare off into space) and I’m so grateful that people care and care enough to actually ask the hard and personal questions. Because I like to talk about things and I want to help anyone understand any of this better including myself. The truth is most days I don’t really know how I’m doing. It changes often and I don’t want to down play feelings or over exaggerate others or say I’m good and then it turns bad and my help for the day has walked away thinking I’m good because that’s what I said. It doesn’t feel honest to say I’m good or bad at any given moment. But I think the best way to describe my place right now is I don’t feel shattered today. Don’t get me wrong, I still feel like my heart is in a million pieces but somehow those pieces aren’t scattered across the floor. Like I’ve managed to pick them all up or like I’m holding all the pieces in my arms but not put back together yet. Maybe they won’t ever be, but the shards and pieces and fragments of me aren’t scattered across the floor just waiting to be trudged on today. I feel like I’m still broken but at least I have my pieces in one place again. I think that’s a pretty good place to be. Some day God will fit those pieces back together. It’ll be messy. It’ll be rough and jagged edges. There will be gaps and the pieces won’t fit perfectly because they once were whole and now they aren’t. But one day they will at least be held together. Today isn’t that day but I have hope for it because today I don’t feel shattered and that’s… good. Even brighter days will come in heaven when not only am I put back together but made whole and fresh and new and perfect. There will be no missing pieces on that day. No gaps to be filled. No breaks. Just one perfectly whole me. I wish I could draw on nights like this because the picture in my head is so cool and I would love to be able to share it. Alas, I cannot draw well at all! So hopefully the description is enough for you to imagine it too. Today I’d draw me picking up the pieces of my heart and just holding them. Gathering them in my arms and waiting for the day they will be put back together.