Breathing for you. 💕

I'm scared of ridiculous things. I have a horrible fear of spiders. Telling me scary movies or haunted houses aren't real doesn't help; haven't you seen the movies, the haunted house could be real! And I get anxiety over things like being confrontational. But I don't get test anxiety, I don't get scared driving in storms or of other people's driving (just really annoyed with slow driving), and basically my motto is whatever happens happens. The tattoo on my foot has a wave and says let it be. I would've gotten you can't stop the waves, so learn to surf but that's entirely too long. Pregnancy was the same way for me, one step at a time, don't worry too much.. Devin on the other hand worried if the cat walked on my stomach, and was worried before my 20 week ultrasound that she wouldn't have 2 legs and 2 arms. I found this all hilarious and adorable. 

The idea of labor was different though, I was terrified inside that it was going to be the worst thing possible. And it was not. And now I feel silly for worrying so much about it. I rode the waves and got through it. So I of course have went back to whatever happens, happens. And today I went back to work. 

I wasn't worried, I told myself after Thanksgiving I would go back, so I did. And I completely failed. I made it 2 hours before crying. I don't know if I wasn't busy enough so my mind was wandering or if it was just too much of a normal task, but I broke. And luckily I work with the most understanding people, but I just felt crazy. I didn't even have a reason to be crying I just couldn't stop. So 2.5 hours on the clock today, and maybe Wednesday it will be 3 hours. It's all just a lot harder than I want it to be. But our thank you cards are in the mail and arriving to people we love, and that's enough to put a smile on my face. 

So yes, Devin didn't go to class and I left work and we drove an hour back to his parents. One step at a time one of my friends said after telling her how bad my attempt at working went, and some days feel like one step at a time. Others feel like one day at a time. Today felt like one breath at a time. But I'm still breathing. 

Limbo

I tell myself 100 times a day it's going to be okay, you'll be fine, there's so much life ahead of you... I repeat it over and over while deep in the back of my mind I think about things like how I should be putting a crib together. That optimistic part of my brain counters the thought with you will put a crib together, just not today. And then I think about another baby, and of course I want more kids, but I want a baby now. It's a scary thought, to want a baby. Because I don't actually want a new baby, I want Sawyer.
I want to get pregnant again, but I want to be ready emotionally, financially, and in every way possible. Are we every really ready though? Of course not. I definitely wasn't ready to be pregnant with Sawyer, I was ridiculously scared. I picture getting pregnant again and I want to have a girl... in the winter... that looks like Sawyer... and I can't imagine liking another girl name. So of course after 3 weeks of grieving I'm not ready or even physically ready to be pregnant. But I'm scared I won't feel any different six months or a year or five years from now. I won't feel ready. I don't want to replace Sawyer in any way, I just want her here. And at the same time that I want time to stop so life doesn't leave her behind, I want to fast forward past finishing school and being in this limbo state. This place where I should be 36 weeks pregnant. This place where everyone should be excited for her to arrive, but instead they're moving past grieving.
I spent half of my day today wondering how big I would be right now.. How I put up all of my clothes I wouldn't be able to wear this winter because they'd fit weird with a round belly.. And about all of the Christmas pictures posted on facebook and the outfit I bought for Sawyer to go to family Christmases in. This limbo is where we sit at Devin's parents and work on homework, and I'm going back to work in 2 days, but Sawyer's room is sitting exactly how it was 3 weeks ago next door. The walls are brown. The light switches have map pattern covering them. There's a canvas with her name in wood on it and canvases with travel-theme quotes on them. Her sleepers and onesies are folded. Her outfits that are newborn and 0-3 month size are hanging up. The windows have plastic on them, preparing to keep the house warm for the winter. The house that was going to have people living in it, a newborn living in it. It's just sitting over there, and sometimes I still feel like in a couple weeks we will move into the house, but we aren't.
Grieving is a weird series of feelings. Sad, angry, numb. I just feel all the time. And spend money. I don't think they warn you about that part, where you don't want to think about everything you're supposed to be saving for so you just find things to spend your money on. I don't know if it happens to everyone but grief spending is real. Christmas presents don't help that part, but I open my computer and to avoid Pinterest (which has those suggestions now, so of course it's covered in New Mom this and New Mom that...) and to avoid looking for baby clothes, I just shop or write. So here I am, again today, writing.
I was so excited about that stupid crib. And the rocking chair my dad was refurbishing. The crib was ordered, and my dad was working on the chair. But the crib never came. And I can't ask about the chair. So there are even objects in limbo. Limbo is where we don't talk about baby products. Where my aunt forgot to give me the Bumbo pillow the last time I saw her before Sawyer died, and now I don't know if she still wants me to have it. And I'm the only one thinking about stuff like this, and I don't even know if I'm supposed to have thoughts like this. What am I supposed to feel? What am I supposed to write about?
Some friends and family that read my blog have told me I should write a book, which is crazy to me because I just write the thoughts that jump out of my head. But, even if I did think it was a good idea, I have no idea how someone grieving controls their thoughts enough to make sense or stay on a topic.

Does a grieving heart heal?

I'm trying to decide on books to buy. Books about stillbirth and grieving, but instead I purchased a book called Someone Came Before You. My daughter was born still 3 weeks ago, and when I saw the books that explain stillbirth to a younger sibling, I was drawn to it. My priority right now is to keep Sawyer as an active part of our family, and not just today or this year but forever. While I read the information on these books about grief I just keep trying to figure out what stage of grief I'm stuck in. Because I feel stuck. There is not a part of me wanting to well up and cry every minute of the day, or any minutes of some days. I know that Sawyer's gone, I love talking about her, and sometimes I can't handle facing any of the truths in her death but other times I feel content knowing she's in the most beautiful place.
One book, Healing Your Grieving Heart After Stillbirth, by Alan Wofelt, has practical ideas for parents and families. I'm debating if I actually want to purchase the book, but in the 'sample' version you can see the chapter names. There are 100 chapters, so I'm guessing each one is the title for whatever the practical ideas inside are. The chapters include six needs of mourning: Acknowledge the reality of death, embrace the pain of loss, remember the baby who died, develop a new self-identity, search for meaning, and receive ongoing support from others. I don't see a choice in these needs though.
Holding my lifeless daughter screamed the reality of death in my face. I embraced her, in turn embracing the pain of losing her when I handed her to the nurse and said my last goodbye. I remember her constantly, I look in the mirror and see her nose and I try to do homework but instead end up typing this post. A new self-identity was handed to me, mom of an angel; there's no avoiding this new identity and the new path that my life will take because of our loss. Searching for meaning comes in the forms of tears asking why, or when people ask what happened, because we have no answers and so searching for meaning will forever be a part of my new self-identity. And receiving ongoing support from others, well that's the one I can consider a need of mourning that isn't handed to you. I wouldn't be okay if I didn't have support from family and friends that ask how I am, how Devin is, and remind us that they love her.
This is what happens when I look through books, I see all of the things that have been handed to others, the same they were handed to me. And all I want is the answer, the key to feeling okay and remembering Sawyer every day. The secret code to how she gets to be a part of everything that every other baby I see all over my timeline born or expected to be. And there isn't one. There's not a book with the words I need to read, and I can't write them, because the words don't exist. There isn't a book with the words to heal my grieving heart after stillbirth. There's just prayer, and the monkey I sleep with that has her name embroidered on it, and people reading this blog. That's all I can do to heal my heart, remember Sawyer.

So much for my happy ending.

(Yes that's an Avril Lavigne reference.) So, you know when you read a book, and you're 100% invested? You feel like it's your life. You cry when the main character cries, laugh when they laugh. You feel every emotion and you feel like you know every detail of anything that happened in their life. I'm sure I'm not the only person that feels that way when I'm reading a book. 

You know the part of the book when it all comes crashing down? Sometimes it's the end of the book. A good example of this is The Fault in our Stars. I bawled my eyes out reading that book. It devastated me and broke my heart, I felt like Hazel's heart was my heart. After I read the book, I watched the movie. I already knew the story, I knew what happened because I lived it (or at least to me it felt like I lived it)... So I didn't cry. Sure I teared up at the end and it was sad, but my heart didn't break, I already knew the story and my heart was already broken from it. 

This is the only way I can figure out to explain how I feel. I feel like I read a book for 7.5 months. A really detailed book, and I lived every second of it. I felt the ups and downs of the main character (myself), and I remember all of it if I really want to remember it, but the book broke my heart. That's what I really remember of it. So I can think back, tell the stories, "watch the movie" but nothing will hurt like it did the first time. Nothing will compare to when my book broke my heart. So I just close the book, watch the movie (tell stories, replay it in my mind, etc.) a few times, but I don't re-read the book because all of the details and the happy parts of my story have no idea what they're leading up to. I can't really think about the Royals winning the World Series, the parade, the games we went to... I can't really think about my 23rd birthday or the trips to Boston and North Carolina this summer. They happened, and I know they were fun and amazing, but the details are what I can't handle. 

We bought her a onesie in Boston. The onesie said "Future Harvard Freshman"... Future... Nicholas Sparks couldn't have written the heartbreak better. That's what happens when I try to remember, my memories all feel like stories that skip right to the end and remind me that it doesn't have a happy ending. 

I'm just waiting on our happy ending.

The Good Dinosaur

Part of getting to a new normal: our first date night in a few weeks. After a successful night of Black Friday shopping last night (despite Dan's terribly slow driving) and purchasing gifts for babies without panicking, me and Devin decided tonight we would go see The Good Dinosaur. Absolutely adorable.. Seriously.

There were a ton of references to The Lion King which I greatly appreciated, and it had a great message about facing fears and having courage but not having to face fears alone. I won't give anything away, but it made me laugh and cry and overall I really needed that. During the movie I had a strong thought comparing the movies message to my life that even though it hurts and I'm sad, Sawyer is where she needs to be. And I'm not alone, I still have my friends and family and we're both okay. Happy even. Just not together. 

A lot of subtle things like this movie have been reassuring me that having more faith is the answer. I've never been a "Belieber" but never hated JB either, this new album though. Woah. Absolutely love it. And I hadn't seen the tabloids about his profession of faith and Christianity, but I picked up on it from his album and now have read more into it, it's really amazed me. If someone with all of the spot lights on them, that has been at an extreme low (haven't we all?) can stand up and say "look I realize I need to be more like Jesus" then any of us can. And we need to. 

Relative to this week, I'm just really thankful for the messages that I'm seeing all around me because it gives me faith that it's going to be okay. As long as I just keep putting it in Gods hands. It really is.

Oh The Places She Went...

A post I've been wanting to do actually revolves around the theme that was planned for Sawyer's nursery: travel. One of the things that comforted me a lot in the first week was thinking of all the life she did get to live.
7.5 months. 32.5.. That's how much time Sawyer was alive and on this Earth. During that time I did a lot, and guess who was right there doing all of it with me? She did more than some people do in a lifetime. So this post is all about the life that Sawyer lived and all of the things she experienced, could hear and feel, and got to do.. all while I held her inside of my belly.
In April, Sawyer got to go to a Jana Kramer concert before I even knew she existed! She also got to go to opening week of KC Royals baseball! Total, Sawyer went to 7 Royals baseball games this summer and attended the Royal's World Series parade in Kansas City. She also went to an Eric Church concert, for Devin's birthday his sister got us tickets to go with her and her boyfriend. In July, we went to Niagara Falls on our roadtrip to Boston to meet Devin's new niece Mia. First trimester exhaustion and a 21 hour drive straight through (okay, we stopped for a 2 hour nap...) was not the smartest choice, but I loved every second of our 5 day trip! We toured Boston on a duckboat, toured Fenway Park, and made our first purchase as parents: a "Future Harvard Freshman" onesie. Then a couple weeks later, right before finding out Sawyer was a girl and finally announcing her arrival, me and 2 of my best friends went on a roadtrip to camp on the beach in North Carolina. It was amazing.

Sawyer got to be in the ocean, and went to the beach both trips. That's more than some people go to the beach in their 90 year lives. The beach is my favorite place and my dream is to live in North Carolina someday, so having these memories during my time with Sawyer mean so much. Knowing what I know now I wouldn't take back a second I had with her, and that's what I'd tell anyone worrying during their pregnancy. I had no idea, and nothing I did would make a difference, so now I have memories with her I wouldn't have had if I laid in a bed worrying my entire pregnancy.
I've had a lot of amazing summers, and done some crazy things, but nothing will ever compare to the summer I spent with my daughter. No birthday will compare to waking up at my moms and turning 23, spending the day excited about her Peyton Manning jersey coming in the mail and going to eat with all of my close friends and eating enough for the both of us. I just keep thinking of the adventures we got to go on, and if her life had to be as short as it was, I'm glad we spent it together. I'm glad she experienced all she could and that I wasn't afraid to live life to the fullest for the both of us. I'm always going to remember the songs that were new on the radio, the cravings I had (eating a jar of mini dill pickles in the car and ice cream everywhere we went), and the craziest road trips I'll probably ever experience as the time I got to spend making memories with my daughter. I just wish I knew then that it was all we would get.

Thanksgiving

I am thankful that I live in this great country that celebrates a holiday about being thankful. I'm thankful for family, and food, and all of the exciting parts of Thanksgiving. This year we're spending Thanksgiving with Devin's family, a small comfortable gathering in the middle of what's expected to be a winter snow storm. Good food, great people, and crossing my fingers we can go enjoy good shopping. I've never had solid Thanksgiving plans, my family isn't big on the holiday and so I've always drifted around to wherever it's being celebrated. One thing I've always done: Black Friday. Me and my mom have always braved the madness together. This year the plan is for me and Devin to go shopping with Devin's mom and sister.
Change. Everything's changing, and I'm not really sad about it. I think that's part of the numbness. But I think about how I go shopping every year with my mom and all it really does is make me wish I had the opportunity to spend every year doing something anything and make traditions with Sawyer. Sure, we can make traditions in her honor.. but it's not the same.
Change.. We changed everything we were supposed to be doing right now, which is something I really try not to dwell on, but this is the first time it's really hitting me. This week off of school was supposed to be full of putting together Sawyer's crib and really getting her nursery and our lives ready for her. My Black Friday shopping excitement this year was centered around looking for the things we still needed after my baby showers and things for Sawyer's arrival and getting our house ready. So far our Thanksgiving Break has consisted of preparing Devin's room at his parents for us to both live in. We rearranged, went through his stuff and got rid of the ridiculous amount of unneeded clothes and STUFF in his room. We also hung Christmas lights in his room (our room now I guess?) and watched Christmas with the Kranks.
So it hasn't been the worst, but I can't help but just wish it wasn't this way. Sawyer's changing table is still sitting in the garage where I haven't finished painting it.. Her clothes are on shelves and hanging up next door in the house we're supposed to be moving into.. it's just all so different. At the same time that I'm sad and know how things should be, it also just makes me realize how honestly thankful I am part of a we and that Devin and I have gotten so much stronger together and closer through all of this, when getting torn apart from losing a child is a very real situation. I'm so thankful to love a man that loves me and confides in me while allowing me to confide in him. We have a family that's willing to let us move in, because honestly we just don't feel like anywhere is safe from hurt right now and the closest thing is being with our parents. We have stuff... so. much. stuff. We have baby necessities that we don't have to give away or get rid of, they can just sit still until we feel okay moving them into storage and then someday actually getting to use them. We have that very real possibility, and some people don't have that. We have the memories and keepsakes of our daughter. We have a daughter, and there's nothing I could be more thankful for.
So yes, there's a lot of change, and spending this week very different than planned hurts.. it hurts a lot. But we have a lot to be thankful for, and an angel watching over us tomorrow for her very first Thanksgiving.

Numb.

Numb is a weird word. It's a weird feeling. There are so many ways we hear it used. But it's how I feel. When I hear the word numb now, I instantly think of getting an epidural. I had an irrational fear of getting an epidural because I thought I would feel paralyzed and not feel my legs or know if I was pushing, the normal fears that are attached to the things we hear about epidurals. It wasn't that I couldn't feel, I could, but it wasn't painful. I was just numb, my waist and legs felt asleep. I could feel pressure, that things were happening, I knew when I was pushing and how hard, but I didn't feel pain. Not physical pain.
I've had so many thoughts that are weird to me lately, and I'm not sure how else to explain them. Numb. I mentioned that I watch Grey's Anatomy, well it makes me cry a lot normally. I watched, people died, it was sad. I could see that it was sad and I knew I would normally be crying but instead I could feel the pressure and no pain, not real sadness. I know it's a show, but then 2 girls ages 22 and 16 were killed in the town my mom lives in and I had the same thought I tried to silence they got to live a life, they got to make choices. I have this aching feeling I'll forever be numb to death, like now I just see life as an opportunity. We hear all the time to live every day to it's fullest, but we only remember to when we get a reminder. What about lives that don't even get to really start? That should be the biggest reminder, to live every day to it's fullest no matter what because we actually have the chance to.
It's the same feeling I get when I talk to pregnant people, or listen to pregnant people express their sympathy. Numb. I have this thought in the back of my head stop acting like this only happened to me and can't to you.. no I would never wish this on anyone, but acting like it could never happen to you, that's just as unsympathetic as saying nothing at all. I thought the same thing, it wouldn't happen. But I look at pregnant people I know in 2 ways now: ones that are affected and ones that aren't. I hate being the example that scares someone, worries them and makes them afraid. But I appreciate the fear and not taking pregnancy and an unborn baby for granted. I hear the words pregnant people say just like anyone else, I know their sympathy is sincere and I know they care, but a lot of times I just feel it on the outside, and not inside... I just feel my jealousy take over.
It's like I can't control my own thoughts anymore, and I think so differently than I'm used to. I'm a positive person, and for the most part I feel like I can see things in a positive light, but sometimes I just feel so dark and like I'm full of bad luck. Sometimes I just really feel numb.

You Don't Know.

"I know how you feel" ...the words that you think will help, but they don't. If I feel like you know, I'll probably say something like "I know you get it" or ask you how you cope, etc. But my first contribution to the What Not To Say To Bereaved Parents world would definitely be not to say "I know how you feel."
Everyone grieves different, everyone heals different, and no one hurt is greater than another. Miscarriage, stillbirth, infant loss, and infertility. These are all heartbreaking, these all require grieving, these all are tragic situations and life altering. Just because you're in a tragic life altering situation does not mean you understand someone else's situation. I can't count the number of messages I got from people telling me about their infertility, their miscarriage, or even their infant or late pregnancy loss. Just because someone experienced something similar or to help them relate did not help me feel close to them or comforted. I felt angry, I still feel angry, that so many people lose their babies. I also just felt selfish, and honestly kept telling myself okay, but there's NOTHING wrong with me or my daughter.. no reason why.. so you don't get it. And I know that isn't a nice thought, but it's true and it makes it hard to swallow other people's thoughts and losses, especially right after my loss. My pain is not equal to anyone else's pain, just as theirs is not equal to mine. We all feel different.
Selfish thoughts, I've never had so many selfish thoughts in my life. They're consuming me. I can't talk about anything else for too long without needing to make sure whoever I'm talking to remembers Sawyer. And I know they do, but it's like word vomit and I just can't stop myself from bringing her up. I think it's part of my way of reminding myself she's real, she's a person and she has a body that I held and birthed and all of it was real. My mind is in a constant battle of pushing thoughts of her away and wanting to talk about her 24/7. So I'm not even sure how I feel, and so I can be sure that you don't know. And I'm not angry that you don't know how I feel, I just don't want to feel like someone else might think they know what I'm feeling when I can't even know what I'm feeling... My body has already done enough without me knowing why and I don't want to be out of control anymore.

15 days.

It's been 15 days since I held my daughter. 16 days since I found out I wouldn't get to watch her grow up. 15 days ago I weighed 15 pounds more than I do today. A lot has changed in 15 days. It's gotten a lot colder, and snow has started showing up in the forecast. We've started planning a headstone for our daughter. We've made more decisions than we made in 7 months about moving and jobs and what we would and wouldn't keep the same.
Today marks day 1 of working on making up homework, and a step towards a new normal. A new normal with more change than we originally planned. We could stayed in our houses with our friends in our college town, I could keep my job and things could just keep going... But things aren't the same. So we'll move in with Devin's parents for next semester while we finish our degrees and heal our hearts and revise our future plans. I'll quit my job, because I was going to already, and I don't want to pretend nothing has changed. We'll find new jobs, figure out a new plan, a new normal.
Our new normal will include finding ways to include Sawyer in our every day life. We have new jewelry to wear every day, I got Dev a leather bracelet with Sawyer's initials and birthday engraved on the clasp and my aunt got me a ring with Sawyer's birthstone. We'll find comfort doing little things for her, like planning her headstone and decorating her grave. We'll hang pictures, and so will family members, of her precious face. Our new normal will include a focus on school and a new life plan, because so much revolved around our addition, and now she's with us no matter what but we aren't planning jobs around daycare or school around babysitters. We'll finish school and save money and in the mean time decide if we want to live on the coast this time next year, if we want to be married this time next year, if we want to be pregnant with Sawyer's sibling this time next year. The possibilities of our life have been picked up and thrown around like nothing we knew possible.
I watch a lot of soap operas, I've watched more One Tree Hill than can be healthy and love to hate every week of drama on Grey's Anatomy. I've always joked about how my life could be a soap opera, but the last 15 days have felt like I'm living in a TV, and I wish I was an actress and could step out of it. The things that happen on soap operas seem ridiculous, but I wouldn't be shocked at all if I found out I had a long lost twin or lost my leg in a plane crash next month. Normal doesn't seem constant anymore, and I don't know why we ever expect it to. 15 days ago I realized, a lot can change in just 1 day.

Things They Say...

They say things were painful, followed by "and I've had a baby"...
They say guys should feel what it's like to have a baby, they even have simulations of birth...
They say it's the worst pain possible...
They say induction is the worst kind of labor...
Birth was the easy part. I went to the hospital, checked in, my midwife started medicine to help my cervix soften at 1:00pm and they told us it would be morning before I would deliver. The plan was to get an epidural as soon as I started to feel uncomfortable, why be uncomfortable for hours when I was already emotionally drained? So around 5:30, my contractions were constant and I went ahead and got the epidural. The pain was equivalent to getting an IV, and I'm not bothered by needles. At 7:00pm we were going to check my dilation and put in another dose of the cervix softening medicine. By 7 my contractions were constant enough that I just got a very, very small dose of medicine to help contractions, and at 10:36pm Sawyer Lee Anderson was born. It was a short, easy, painless delivery. The worst pain was not hearing the cry of my baby, not feeling her squeeze my finger or getting to feed her. The worst pain possible was our parents walking in crying, sobbing, instead of grinning ear to ear, to meet their granddaughter. I wouldn't wish that pain on anyone, there's no simulation of how that feels. The worst kind of labor is the one followed by a silent room, no rolling bassinet with a newborn in it, and the worst pain after labor is walking out of the hospital with no car seat.

They say you don't get any sleep as a new parent...
I agree, as a new parent you get no sleep. Especially when your nights are lonely, no diapers to change or bottles to make, no baby to rock back to sleep. Just a dark space, wide eyed and not tired, alone. And I can't imagine a worse way to lose sleep. I can't imagine ever feeling tired from being up changing diapers or feeding a baby after this kind of lost sleep. I lay awake and talk to Sawyer without speaking a word, and she can hear me. That's the worst way to lose sleep.

They say to cherish your last moments as a couple, alone...
Did I worry about this? Of course. I thought a million times how me and Devin would never get time to ourselves after we get married eventually, and now I wish I never thought it once. I would trade ever getting a second alone. Sure, I'll still want time to go on dates when we have more children, but right now I can't imagine ever 'regretting' not having enough time alone. We have so much time alone. So much silent time alone, both thinking the same things and missing Sawyer. She still surrounds our every second together. We didn't have a 'deadline' to our last nights together, we thought we had 8 more weeks before our baby would arrive. So worry less about having your moments alone, and more about cherishing time as a family. Because even when you're pregnant, you're not alone. Those ears can hear, that heart loves, and your baby is with you every second.

They say a lot of things that sound scary, sound intimidating. I can promise you that no matter how much you prepare, no matter how many pinterest posts you read, you aren't "ready". But you'll figure it out. And nothing can be worse than losing your child, but even that is something that can be 'figured out' and your life, forever changed, will keep going when you become a parent. 

They say your life is forever changed, that you'll never love anything more...
They're right.

Her Place

The sun was shining like no November day I've ever seen, not a cloud in the sky. It had been a week and 2 days since I held my baby girl, Sawyer, and we were laying her to rest in her place. I know it's only her body, and that her spirit is with God, but it still felt equally sad and comforting... Sad to have this service in her honor and make her being gone real not only for us but all of our close family, we didn't want a crowd of people because it would be overwhelming.. and yet comforting knowing where she was laying and knowing that I'll always have a place to visit her, talk to her, bring her flowers.

We decided on yellow daisies, the flowers we would leave to lay over her plot, because it's a bright happy flower and reminds me of the sun. She deserves that, a happy flower. As much as you can be excited after losing your child, I feel happy when I think of doing things for her. And in a couple weeks my plan is to make a little Christmas tree, just for Sawyer. I'm excited about it.
She lays a few plots away from Devin's "Pa" and right behind his sister's best friend growing up, Brandon. I feel comfort knowing she's surrounded by people that would love her just as much as we do and can hold her for now, until we can again.
We went to her place for the first time since her service today, and it's such a small plot. It makes me glad, because I always feel so sad when plots sit with big piles of dirt over them for so long. She's got an angel solar light and a bundle of a few dozen yellow daisies over her. A small hard plastic square says "Loved and Cherished", her name, and the name of the funeral home. Tomorrow we'll go start planning her headstone, and again I'm awkwardly excited about it. I just like doing things for her. I keep trying to find projects to personalize in memory of her, and different ways to use her pictures. I just love her. And miss her. A lot. But I'm glad that now I have somewhere special for her to go visit, her place.

November 5th

November 5th is the date that will forever bring tears to my eyes and an ache in my chest. I'll start at the beginning... August 6, 2015 was the happiest day of my life. My "nugget" was a girl, a perfectly healthy growing baby girl, Sawyer Lee Anderson. What could be better? We were halfway through our pregnancy and so excited, so were our family and friends.

In the next three months, Devin went to Hawaii with his family, we both started our last year of college, we started planning and everyone stocked Sawyer's closet FULL of adorable clothes, I turned 23, and the Royals won the World Series for the first time in 30 years. November 3rd, we got up bright and early and drove to Kansas City for the parade! It was such an exciting atmosphere and we were less than 50 feet away from all of our favorite MLB players. Afterwards, we spent a few hours killing time before our first prenatal class! I was pretty excited for Devin to learn more about labor and all of the exciting, scary things ahead of us. I could feel Sawyers hiccups in my pelvis as we sat through the class, her foot in my rib as usual, and braxton hicks on and off which had been a common occurrence for about a month. After the 2 hour class we went home and went straight to sleep. I tossed and turned all night with aches in my legs from all the walking that day.
The next day should have been a normal day. November 4, 2015. I woke up and went to work. My legs were feeling better and I was in a good mood. I was only working half of the day because I had my 32 week appointment. After leaving work at noon I showered and even straightened my hair for once. I had on my new World Series Championship hoodie Devin got me the day before and my maternity leggings I was obsessed with. We headed to our appointment and I could feel some braxton hicks as usual, I was excited to share that with my midwife.
We checked in, like normal. Urine sample, like normal. Waiting room, like normal. Weight, I had lost a couple pounds, but I also walked about 4 miles the day before and fluctuated a lot, so everything seemed normal. Vitals, like normal. My midwife came in, asked how we were, commented on my hoodie,  everything was so normal. Measurement, 1 week off. That's not normal. Doppler, and all we could hear was my heartbeat, not the normal race horse sound of Sawyer's. It's all okay, it has to be okay, she's just in a weird position. "Sometimes babies get into a weird position, let's just go over and have you get an ultrasound to check on everything." Waiting room, it didn't feel normal anymore. I told myself and Devin it was okay, everything had to be fine. Right? I pushed on her and she wasn't moving. I told myself not to panic. The ultrasound verified our greatest fear, "I'm sorry Sam, there isn't a heartbeat." The words sounded muffled and like a dream. It couldn't be real, she was just okay, nothing was wrong, my whole pregnancy had been completely fine.
We tell ourselves it doesn't happen, not to us anyway. 1%. There's a 1% chance after 28 weeks. Most of that 1% are people who smoke, drink, are overweight... a reason. I had no reason. Less than 1% chance and my daughter was gone? I needed to leave. So I left, told my mom to come, and waited until the next day.
I went through everything any other mom goes through. Induced labor, they warn you it's worse than natural labor. Labor and having a baby is supposed to be the worst pain imaginable, but that was the easy part. Nothing I ever feel physically or emotionally will be harder than walking out of the hospital on November 6th without my daughter. But on the night of November 5th, at 10:36pm, after 9 hours of labor, my daughter was born. She was perfect, beautiful, 2 pounds 15 ounces, 17.5 inches long, and a head full of dark hair. She has my nose. We held her, got pictures, our parents and Devin's sister all got to see her and kiss her. But she was already an angel. She never felt the stress of birth, she didn't feel any pain or hurt, she never cried. She's perfect, and watching over us.
These were all of the things me and Devin talked about as we smiled and admired every inch of the perfect baby girl we had made, & in that brief moment, that moment we got to hold our daughter for the first and only time, that couple hours we didn't cry or feel sad, time stood completely still.