It’s been awhile since I’ve written. I’m not the best “blogger”, I base my posts off of inspiring triggers and they seem to be few and far between right now.
Right now, in this moment, I’m OK. I’m not great, I’m not terrible, I’m just OK. And I’m totally OK being just OK. The grief waves have seemed to lessen in frequency and intensity, but they still hurt when they crash down. Things haven’t gotten “better” per se, I think I’m starting to enter that point when grieving becomes “different.”
I still miss my little Logan like crazy. What I wouldn’t give to hold him and kiss those sweet, angel cheeks just one more time. But he’s with me every day. I think about him a lot, especially now, with all of these life changes we’re going through.
Since seeing the recurrent pregnancy loss specialist on January 23rd, I’ve developed a new sense of hope and purpose. We had a totally unexpected conversation with the specialist regarding Logan, something we never thought possible. The doctor wants to send the pathology report of Logan’s placenta and a tissue sample of the placenta to a doctor at Yale for a second opinion and analysis, plus genetics testing if possible. She wants to figure out what went wrong. Logan’s death certificate says cause of death: “natural causes”. There is nothing natural about losing a seemingly healthy baby boy at 35 weeks after a healthy pregnancy. I use to joke that my pregnancies were “normal and boring.” Yeah, I wish I could have that back. That sweet innocence and bliss.
If we do get an answer or answers, it could open so many doors. Even if this second opinion yields no answers, I’m still grateful. Grateful that the specialist is pursuing this further when we never knew it was even possible. This second opinion is the driving force behind the doctor’s plan for me as well. These results will guide the doctor in what labs should be ran on me. I don’t want anything to be wrong, but at the same time, it would be an explanation and there could be different options for a future pregnancy. Trying something different feels better than doing more of the same, putting your heart on the line, and just hoping for the best. I feel like we can’t do that anymore, we have to try something different.
Regardless of what answers we may or may not receive, the specialist is willing to see our next pregnancy through the first trimester. I’m sure it will be helpful upping our game with prenatal visits, exams, labs, and ultrasounds, it will bring some reassurance. But there is still fear and anxiety that will come with every visit. I’ll hold my breath until I see or hear the little heartbeat every time. I don’t know that we can ever be 100% positive about trying again coming off back-to-back losses. But having the specialist in our corner, is the right first step to hopefully achieving a more desirable outcome.
Another big change right now is me starting a new job next week. I’m a registered nurse and starting on the peds floor. The kicker here is that it’s at the same hospital where I delivered Logan. It brings up a lot of emotions from the day we lost him, but at the same time, I feel like I’m giving back. I will be working mostly pediatrics (kids are so amazing and resilliant, fun to work with), but I will have opportunities to work with other moms who experience a loss when the time comes. I’m excited and nervous.
I’ve tried playing out that first talk I’ll ever have with a mom who just got the world’s worst news in my head. I’ve tried planning out what I’m going to say. I know when the time comes, I’ll probably be at a loss for words. I’ll have to let Logan guide me. I’m sure I’ll cry the first time I have to have this talk. But I truly feel that this will be very healing for other moms, other couples, other families, and myself. I hope that me having experienced what these moms are going through will help them to feel less alone, that life is possible after death, even though it’s a tough road to travel.
In all of this, I am grateful that we have Makenzee and Connor. We had Makenzee when we were both 20 years old, I was going through nursing school and there were people who were so against our decision to get pregnant again after our first pregnancy ended in miscarriage. Looking back now, I’m so glad we didn’t listen to other people and followed our own hearts. We followed them again 2 years later when Connor was born. I can’t help but think what if there’s always been some underlying condition with me that is hindering carrying a baby to term now, but didn’t affect anything back then? What if we had waited until now to start trying to have babies and ended up with none?
I can’t imagine a life where these two never existed. I can’t imagine a life where Logan never existed. To the outside world, it’s like he was never here because they never saw him, never felt him. But he is very real and I truly believe he’s guiding me on this journey. I don’t really believe that “everything happens for a reason” anymore, but Logan is making it possible for me to do something bigger than myself. I just wish he could be here to witness it in person.
“To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping.”