Capture Your Grief : Day 26 // Her age

 

 

I began my 25th week of my pregnancy on Tuesday, March 9, 2010. Every Tuesday, I took a new belly photo, waiting to get bigger and bigger. I never knew this would be the last time I would photograph myself pregnant with Avery. Two days later, on March 11th, we found out she was gone.

Avery was 25 weeks gestation. One week past viability. Micropreemie status. Only 15 weeks left to go. Just three months and three weeks until she was supposed to be here. My Summer baby. But instead, she was my Winter baby. Oddly fitting with the chill in the air.

I used to wish that I was much further along if I had to lose Avery at all. I thought maybe she would be considered more legitimately my child had she been bigger and older. That she would count without question.

But she was 25 weeks old. She was perfect. And she is ours always.

Capture Your Grief : Day 25 // Baby shower

I never got to have a baby shower for Avery. I was 25 weeks pregnant when she was born still. There were no shower plans in the making, no guest list being worked on... But we had registered at both Target and Babies R Us. We couldn't wait to do that. We loved it.

We had many things for Avery, waiting for her in her room. Anytime my mom and I would go out on a shopping date, she would buy a few things for her. Each week, Daniel and I would pick up another outfit, and we'd even purchased Avery's coming home outfit -- a cute little brown and pink dress with flowers on it.

All of these things remained in her closet, in her room until we were moving and had no choice but to pack up her things. Even now, they're still in the same box, up in a closet. I still dream of another little girl to come home in that little brown and pink dress.

Avery was here

We never got a birth certificate or a death certificate when we lost Avery. I knew she didn't qualify for a birth certificate since she was not born alive, but a long while back, I did some research about death certificates. Surely, there had to be some documentation of a baby born still.

I found out that you can obtain a 'Birth resulting in stillbirth' certificate if you have a certified death certificate on file. Not all states follow this, unfortunately, but Florida does. I always hated that the only official proof Avery was here is her grave stone. So, a few months ago, I finally contacted the funeral home that took care of her to see what they could do for me.

I was very confused and dismayed to find that Avery doesn't qualify for a certified death certificate because she wasn't "old enough" when she died. She was past the point of viability if born early and she was also "old enough" to be considered a stillbirth instead of a miscarriage. She was delivered just like a living baby. Stupidly, and I guess as a defense mechanism, I didn't ask further questions. I gratefully accepted the favor of an uncertified death certificate for Avery. It came in the mail yesterday, two years and three months after we lost her. While it is horrifying to receive a death certificate with your child's name on it, it brings so much closure and peace somehow.

This probably doesn't help my case that Avery counts, but I don't need anyone to tell me she does. I carried life inside of me for 25 weeks. I gave birth to a very wanted, very loved baby girl with perfect hands and feet, a sweet little nose and precious lips, who looked just like her Daddy.

I don't care that this document isn't certified. It states that my daughter was born and that she died. It is in writing. Avery was here.

Glucose test

On Friday, June 24th (25w5d), I took the glucose test to check for gestational diabetes. I got the lab order for it from my doctor at my appointment last week. That's as far as I got with Avery. I got the lab order and she was gone before I even had a chance to think about going in for the test. I remember how much I dreaded the idea of having to take the test, out of fear of having gestational diabetes.

This time I felt grateful to make it to the test, though I still felt the same way about possibly having diabetes. But even if it turns out that I do, that will definitely not be the worst thing that's ever happened, especially where pregnancy is concerned. In so many ways, I really don't care what I have to through, as long as Jude is safe and healthy. My concern for my comfort and ease of time definitely take a backseat.

On Friday, my appointment for the two hour test was at 9:15. For some reason, I barely slept the night before. I don't know if I was nervous about the test or what. Daniel came with me, of course. I love how he's a part of everything, even the tedious things. I first had four vials of blood taken and then had five minutes to drink the 10 oz of orange glucose. It wasn't very pleasant, but I guess it wasn't as bad as I was expecting. They let us sit in our own little private room with two recliners. I was pleasantly surprised! I was assuming we'd have to sit in the waiting room the whole time.

After one hour, I had to get another vial of blood drawn for my sugar levels. Then back to the little room to wait again. I was glad that the glucose didn't make me sick. Apparently some people throw up or get dizzy from it! The second hour passed rather quickly and another vial of blood was taken and we were free to go. I didn't know I wouldn't be getting any results while I was there. I guess I'll have to wait until my OB appointment on the 30th to find out.

I do feel a bit nervous. I really don't want to hear that I didn't pass the test. I know most people go for a one hour first, but mine was two. I don't know what kind of difference that makes. Maybe that just gives me more time for my body to process the sugar, eliminating a false positive and an unnecessary three hour test. I'm not sure. But I really do pray that I don't have diabetes. I know it's manageable and worse things could happen. But I feel like I have enough to deal with just keeping Jude alive. Almost like it would be unfair to have that on top of everything. I already have Lovenox shots each day. I can't imagine if I had to worry about insulin if it can't be corrected with crazy dieting where even many fruits are forbidden. I just want to be able to focus on Jude and not myself. I don't want to have to worry about me beyond what I already do. Worrying about my baby's health takes enough of me. But, of course, as always, I'll do whatever it takes for Jude. Discomfort is a very small price to pay.

25 weeks

I'm finally here. I made it to my milestone week. I feel much better reaching this week than I did about approaching it in the past couple. As I enter this week and Jude is still kicking away like his big sister never did, I feel so encouraged. He is doing so well.

After tomorrow (6.20) passes, I will be more pregnant than I have ever been before. I think that's monumental. There is so much that I missed with Avery. It will be so beautiful to experience them with Jude. For him to come the right away at the right time. To come with joy instead of tears. To hear "congratulations" instead of "I'm sorry." I can't imagine anything more wonderful. 14 more weeks until our boy is here!

6 more days

I am 24 weeks and 1 day pregnant with Jude. That means that in 6 more days, I will hit 25 weeks. I was 25 weeks pregnant when Avery died in my womb. I was 25 weeks and 1 day when I think she died. At 25 weeks and 2 days, we found out she was gone. She was born at 25 weeks and 4 days. All that to say that week 25 in my last pregnancy was nothing short of devastation. And in just a matter of days, I will reach that milestone once again with another baby.

I am not superstitious. I know full well hitting week 25 won't make something happen to Jude. Even if something were going to happen to him before birth, it wouldn't happen during the same exact week. But even so, it still fills me with an uneasy feeling and I can't help but worry about him more lately. He's doing exceptionally well and noticeably better than Avery ever did, so worrying about him seems so silly sometimes. But I can't beat myself up. Loss and heartache is all I know of pregnancy. It's next to impossible not to let fear creep in once in a while.

I turn 25 weeks on Fathers Day of all days. Two emotional aspects in one day. And then the 22nd, just three days later, is the one year anniversary of Avery's due date. So her actual birthday, had she lived, would've been some time around then. Wow, what a crazy week to get through!

I cannot wait to stand in front of my bathroom mirror in two Sundays and take my belly photo for week 26. I never got that far before. I know that week will come. And it'll feel great to pass this dreaded upcoming milestone and be more pregnant than I have ever been, with our healthy baby boy.