May 18, 2012

It is nearly 2am as I type this blog and the day has been emotionally draining to say the least, yet I am still awake with my thoughts.  It was 3 years ago today that I last held my baby, her lifeless body dressed in a cute overall outfit and my hands holding that small white bow on her head.  She was beautiful and perfect and appeared to be asleep, only she wasn't.  She was gone.

My heart breaks and tears fill my eyes when I think back to the details of those two days and every single detail of what happened.  For some people, they remember being in a fog, which I think sometimes might have been easier.

As a family, we met out at the cemetery at Savannah's grave site.  We tied 3 big cheery birthday balloons and brought her some beautiful flowers. 

We set off 3 Chinese lanterns, each one carrying one year's worth of pain, sadness, grief, anger, love, hope, and peace up to Savannah in Heaven.

We each enjoyed a bite of Savannah's chocolate cake that her big brother picked out at the same time as watching the lobsters in the tank across the aisle in the grocery store.  It's hard for him because he doesn't remember her and he doesn't have any questions.  He tells me "Mommy, don't be sad. Be happy!"  I tell him that it's OK to be sad that Savannah doesn't live here on Earth, but somehow, it seems above the head of a 4-year old.

Afterwards, we went to the Olive Garden for dinner.  We all ordered food, but really none of us ate it.  We just weren't in the mood, although some Italian comfort food seemed like a good idea at the time.  The waiter was especially nice to us even though we were having a rough time.  With the check, he included a hand-written card that said "May the four of you have a blessed evening."  But there aren't four of us.  We are a family of five.

And we came home and put the kids to bed, prepped for the next day, and went to sleep.  At least Eric went to sleep.  I couldn't sleep.

I was angry and hurt that no one had called or emailed or sent a card to acknowledge that today was Savannah's 3rd Birthday in Heaven.  I was disappointed in my family, in my parents, in my sisters.  I was disappointed in my husband's family, in my friends, in our friends.  I felt like my biggest fear was coming true ~ people were forgetting Savannah ever existed.

I get that people don't know the right thing to say.  I can understand how some people might feel like bringing it up might make me sad.  The truth is, I will forever be sad, especially on these two days, and ignoring it makes it worse.  I WANT to talk about it and I want you to listen.  I NEED to talk about it.  I am on a journey ~ one similar to motherhood.  Once it begins, it never ends.  Jeremy and Irelynn will never know their sister, not in their lifetime.  It's not about me (Shannon) looking for attention.  It's about someone who was part of our family, someone very much loved and wanted, is gone and is never coming back.

Yes, I have another child and I am so grateful.  But I will NEVER stop missing or loving or yearning for my daughter, Savannah.  If I have 10 more daughters, the dates of May 17-18 will always be emotionally draining and sad for me.

What can you do?  Put special dates and anniversaries on your calendar for someone you know who has lost a baby and make the effort to reach out to them and let them know you are thinking of them, that you care, and that you haven't forgotten their child.  And don't be alarmed if tears arise.  Tears are signs of healing, just as loving supportive words and sentiments.  In fact, they help people heal more than you can imagine.

Sometimes, it's better not to ask...

Someone asked me today about the sign on my truck.  I tried to be brief and not give a lot of detail, which, unknowingly, always leads to more questions.  I never mind talking about Savannah at all.  In fact, most of the time, I am happy to do so.  Sharing her life is another way of sharing her with the world.  After all, what good does it do anyone to just go on with my life and pretend that she never existed?  What kind of mother would that make me?

Anyway, as the questions got more invasive and I explained more about what happend, I felt all the anger coming back.  I have worked so hard to get to where I am today, accepting Savannah for who she is.  I often hear the comment, "I just can't even imagine."

Well, allow me to explain it to you.  Pretend that you are in a wonderful marriage and have a beautiful little boy and now you are expecting a little girl, which is secretly what you always hoped for.  You go shopping and pick out the most amazing outfits and dresses from Strasburg and all sorts of online boutiques.  You decorate the nursery exactly the way you had been envisioning in your mind since you were a little girl.  Everything is going fine until you hear the words Down Syndrome.  But, you know that you will love your little girl unconditionally and will do your best to be her Advocate for life.  You know that the career of being a ballerina will not be possible but you focus on the postives and continue to anxiously await the arrival of your precious miracle.  The nursery is ready, just as you pictured.  The crib is ready.  The carseat is in the backseat, approved installation by the local fire department.  You have your bags packed with the most adorable outfits for the hospital possible with at least 40 bows packed and at least 3 pairs of shoes for each day spent there.  She is your child, after all.  There is a sign that you ordered to hang outside your front door that says "We welcome with joy and love Savannah Grace Renfro" and cannot wait to display it so that all of your neighbors who have been watching you waddle back and forth each day to the mailbox can stop asking you when the baby is coming.  You have the Baptism scheduled for 3 weeks later and a Baptismal Gown that you yourself wore already pressed and waiting.

You think to yourself that even if your daughter has Down Syndrome, your biggest concern is how the older people at Church will look at her and wonder if she will be judged as she grows.  Seriously, that is your biggest concern.

And then something happens.  You go to the hospital and deliver a baby that is not alive.  Something much bigger than your biggest nightmare has just happened.  There are no answers, no explanations.  You watch babies come out of the OR just having been delivered via C-section and you hear the woman in the next room laboring and the horse-thumping sound of her baby's heartbeat, who is still very much alive.  And you have nothing.

You go home and look in the backseat of your car as your husband drives.  You see the empty carseat, the handmade blankets you had to cover that newborn baby still folded up, unused.  You return home to a nursery that is beautifully decorated but no baby to enjoy it.  You look at the closet full of clothes, all still with tags on it that extend from Newborn sizes to 4T, because you learned with your son that no child stays in Newborn sizes for long.  You were smarter and bought ahead so the seasons would match up.  You notice the 3 long strands of ribbon that neatly hold each and every bow that you found to be just perfect for your daughter and the shoe rack that holds more shoes than any girl would ever possibly need.  You see that sign that you were waiting to put up, layed out neatly on the bed that was decorated to match the nursery bedding so you could stay up late at night to nurse your daughter.

The nursery is too much to take, so you walk into the kitchen and see all of the Dr. Browns bottles neatly lined up from smallest to tallest.  Maybe the kitchen wasn't such a good place to go.  The garage has to be safer.  There you find the cases and cases of diapers that you stocked up on because you knew exactly how long she would be in each size.  It's all staring you in the face, but you have nothing.

That's how it felt.  I still go back to that time and re-live every single moment of the devastation and sadness and anger.  You can't imagine what it's like?  There you go. Try to imagine it. It's the worst possible nightmare that can happen.  And sadly, it can happen to anyone when they least expect it.

Eric and I are older, but not too old.  We are both college educated and smart people.  We are not low-income or low intelligence or low socio-economic class.  We are Republicans after all!  This isn't supposed to happen to people like us.  But it did.  It happens more often than you think.  It happens to good people.  Sometimes, life just isn't fair and there is nothing you can do about it.  I'm not sharing this to scare anyone, but rather to help people understand what it's like. 

Maybe one day, this won't be such a taboo topic. Maybe someday, this won't happen anymore.

All I know is that it did happen, and it happened to me.  If this happens to someone that you know, perhaps you can be a better friend to them instead of saying "I just can't imagine."

Growth and Grief

This week has continued to be full of blessings, joys, and challenges.

On Monday, we spent the day in Richmond. We visited with our good friends and then headed over to the Children’s Museum. It was our first visit and was so much fun! We stayed until nearly closing time. Both children were able to explore and learn in such a fun and unique environment.

On Tuesday, our foster daughter had an appointment to check her hearing. I thought this test would be a piece of cake compared to the testing she had last week. However, she wanted nothing to do with the room or the sounds. In fact, I started to think it was because of me because she tends to have a stronger bond with Eric. We were able to get her in for a few hours later with Eric to try again. Unfortunately, it was not me because she flipped out the same way for Eric. The next step is to sedate her, which does not make me happy, but it’s the only way to know what type of hearing loss she has and what we can do about it.

Wednesday, I took her to see the allergy doctor. While in the waiting room, she walked about 10 steps all by herself unassisted. When she got to the counter, she reached for the keyboard and began to push the buttons. I was elated and so proud of her. Each and every day, she is making progress and strengthening those little legs.  She did not care for the allergy doctor either, but this was not to be overshadowed by her walking!

Thursday, she had her first developmental therapy appointment. She did very well but she prefers to snuggle with me, which doesn’t bother me one bit! She plays very well with Jeremy, who is still learning to share his toys. He helps pick up her bottle when she drops it and will occasionally hand her toys. It is so heart-warming to watch them interact. I know that once she starts walking and eating, it will be hard for her not to want to be just like Jeremy and do all the things that he does. She can climb a whole flight of stairs and has learned from Jeremy how to throw toys down a flight of stairs, but it’s hard to discipline her when her face lights up and she laughs the most adorable laugh I have ever heard!

I was asked to speak at the Eastern Virginia Perinatal Council Thursday afternoon and share Savannah’s story. I was honored to do it and was hopeful that Hurricane Earl would not interfere. I was able to talk about Savannah and share her life and her treasures with a room full of people and I am sure that no one in that room will ever be the same after hearing her story. I know that Savannah changed their lives because she speaks through me. I am simply the messenger. As a gift, they gave me a beautiful butterfly wind chime which will look awesome on Savannah’s Tree ~ the Weeping Cherry Tree that we planted in her memory this past Easter, the same weekend we moved into our new house.  It's not exactly weeping with the large growths at the top, but it looks so pretty with pink flowers in the springtime.

The speech and reliving what happened brought up many feelings that I was surprised I still felt. If there was anything I could change about what happened with everything, I would have changed the things that I held back from saying at the Patient Care Conference with the doctors at Langley. If I could go back, I would look that doctor in the eye and say:

How dare you sit here, not look me in the eye, and let all of these other knucklehead doctors speak for you and ramble on about nothing that had to do with my questions. All I needed to hear you say is that you were sorry, you made a mistake in judgment, and you will never do it again. How can you tell me that you would perform an elective c-section for a woman who simply did not want to deal with incontinence issues but it would be a bad decision medically to induce me with all of my legitimate medical concerns and history at 39 weeks? Why did you make the additional risk for C-section be such a huge deal when it meant that my baby would have been born alive? I really hope that you enjoyed your time with your husband that night when I called 30 times in panic and terror when I knew that something was wrong with my baby and that stupid midwife wouldn’t call you at home. I hope she feels very powerful as the gatekeeper of the labor and delivery department instead of asking me to come in and get checked. And for you to say that you supported her decision? I really hope that that dinner at Outback or the Olive Garden that night was really worth it because it came at the price of my daughter’s life. I know you said that you did nothing wrong but I hope that when you are in the privacy of your own home, you think about Savannah and about how I will forever visit my daughter in a cemetery. I hope each time you look at your twins that you think of me, my empty arms, and my daughter in Heaven. All I ever needed to hear was that you would never make that kind of mistake again and when a mom is in panic, you take her seriously. That’s it. That’s all I got!

It has been a long time since I have been so angry, probably months! I went to sleep last night listening to my Anger & Forgiveness Meditation and it calmed me to sleep. I have had many good days lately ~ weeks of them. But for some reason as I was trying to fall asleep in bed, I began re-living those days. I thought about everything I said and how I tried to be polite and respectful to the doctors and hospital administrators. That was my one opportunity when I could have changed the lives of each of those doctors in that room and I blew it. I let them talk over me and ramble on and on about nothing, trying to confuse me. Nothing got accomplished at that meeting and I understand that they were limited legally on what they could say. I hope that somewhere, somehow, in some little tiny way, each of them will be a little bit different in how they practice medicine. I realize that is a long shot, but I can hope. I have often thought about having another Patient Care Conference, but I just don’t think it would do any good. After getting letters from my attorney, I don’t think I would ever hear any of the things from anyone at that hospital I am looking for. I just hope and pray that no one will ever have to go through what we went through, not at that hospital or any hospital.

Friday, we waited out the Hurricane, which luckily turned east shortly before coming anywhere close to landfall, so all we received was some rain and a little wind. Saturday, we visited Water Country again. We wanted to squeeze in one last visit before it closes for the summer. The kids had fun and were worn out and ready for baths and bed by the time we got home.

Today’s reading at Church provided much opportunity for reflection. The second reading, particularly, was about a man named Paul who had a slave named Onesimus. He was freed and sent back to Paul, but instead of continuing to treat him as a slave, he welcomed him back as a brother. Then, the Gospel of Luke was very influential as well. “"If anyone comes to me without hating his father and mother, wife and children, brothers and sisters, and even his own life, he cannot be my disciple.” I am not one to quote Bible verses and pretend to know what I am talking about or spread some crazy message, but the homily that followed made these readings very thought-provoking to me, which is rather unusual.  Faith is something that is private that my family and I share, but we never push it on anyone else.

We have been blessed with so much family and many dear friends in our lives. In fact, we were in shock of how many people rallied around us with love, support, and prayer after we lost our daughter, Savannah. But, we are not without our share of disappointment and drama, for lack of better terms. Family and friends are such a blessing, but unfortunately, there are times when they become the object of much pain and sorrow. This is such the case with some family of my husband’s. It got to the point where we, as a family, made the decision to love unconditionally from afar, but not speak or communicate at all with them. It became a very toxic situation and my husband and I had to make a decision to protect our children. It is sad that our children will never know that side of the family, but I trust that our daughter, Savannah, is watching over them and praying for them, as she is us. It has become evident to me that these certain family members have discovered this blog. The purpose of this blog is to help others and to deal with my own grief and pain. I have been very open in sharing my feelings and some of the happenings in our family. However, having a relationship with us and with our family is a privilege and not a right.

While none of us has hate in our heart, we do still have anger and hurt. For this reason, we only surround ourselves with good people who wish us well, not harm. We continue to raise our children and love each other and our families and friends as we have been taught to love and we try every day to work on not being judgmental. We are not perfect and have never claimed to be. But we work hard every day to do the right thing for God, for our family and friends, to lead by example to our children, and to give back to the community to which we belong. We try to be forgiving and we are, but we will never forget and therefore some people will always remain part of our past and not our future.

We look forward to the weeks ahead ~ apple picking, hayrides and pumpkin patches, cornfield mazes, Halloween, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year’s, and a very special Birthday Party. We are planning some trips in the coming months. I am very excited to meet Danny Gokey. Some of you many remember him from Season 8 of American Idol, but sadly, that was around the end of my pregnancy with Savannah and I didn’t watch it at all. He lost his wife in surgery after a life-long battle with a heart condition. To honor her and fulfill his promise to her, he tried out for American Idol just weeks after her death. I found him on CMT. He has a song that really has affected me. The lyrics are on the right hand side of the blog, but the video is so powerful. It is a tear-jerker for sure, but it came on the TV randomly one day when I had CMT on for background noise. It came at a time when I really needed to cry and cry long and hard. I do not for one second believe that it was a coincidence. We have been emailing back and forth about how his music has touched my heart and my life. I encourage you to watch the video and you will see what I mean.

Danny Gokey ~ I Will Not Say Goodbye

Our foster daughter LOVES music and loves to dance!  I would love to get her into some type of music therapy one day.  For now, we just enjoy her each and every day and look forward to the day when she officially becomes part of our family, although she became family the day she came through our front door.

Until next time, may you enjoy your blessings and open your heart for whatever God has in store!