The Roller Coaster Ride

Losing our baby Thérèse changed me.  Some of the ways are obvious, and others sneak up on me and take my breath away.  Although it was the most painful experience I have ever gone through (and am still going through), I can't thank God enough for giving our family that precious, little, innocent saint.  I think about her a lot, and I pray to her throughout the day as I wash dishes, play with the kids, or do the countless mundane tasks that make up my days.  

Sometimes, I'll get a little reminder that if things had gone differently, she would still be with me.  In my tummy.  Kicking.  We would be anxiously awaiting her arrival on her due date, May 20, 2013.  For whatever reason, it wasn't part of the plan--His plan.  I still don't understand the plan or even pretend to wrap my mind around it.  Instead, I'm learning to stop planning, controlling, and allow God to take my roller coaster ride up and down and up and down.  For this Type A Martha girl, that is no easy task!  Good Father that He is, God knew I needed to learn to let Him take the reigns.

On November 2, All Souls Day, we learned on ultrasound that our precious baby was dead.  I started to miscarry at home the evening of November 4.  As things progressed and my blood loss became dangerous, I ended up having an emergency D&C in the wee hours of the morning on November 5.  The next weeks consisted of regaining my strength, getting a blood transfusion, squeezing the stuffing out of Jane and Walt, and busily preparing for hosting Thanksgiving.  I was grateful for the distraction of a major holiday!  

A week before Thanksgiving at my two-week follow-up appointment after my D&C, my OB said that my exam was normal and that I was healthy.  He gave us the all-clear to resume marital activities, but he recommended waiting three months before trying to conceive again.  The thought of waiting three months was agony, but wait we must.  He said to anticipate my cycle returning 4-6 weeks after my D&C.  We decided not to start charting again until that time came.  

A few nights after my follow-up OB appointment and before my cycle returned, Philip and I cried our eyes out after the kids went to bed.  We talked about missing Thérèse, how much we loved Jane and Walt, and how much we desperately wanted to have another baby.  We held each other and said we were ready for another baby whenever God would send us that blessing.  That night, we decided we to open ourselves to the possibility of a new baby, as unlikely as that would be.  After that night, we said we would follow my doctor's instructions to avoid a pregnancy for three months.  

Thanksgiving came and went.  We made plans to gather our family to pray the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary for Thérèse on December 9.  The week of the Rosary, something wasn't right.  I was moody and weepier than I had been, my breasts were leaking colostrum, and I had some abdominal cramping.  Noooooooooooo, I thought.  This must be from the miscarriage.  My body must be hanging on to the hormones, and it must take awhile for all of the pregnancy symptoms to subside.  Still...  

December 4, exactly one month to the day after I started to miscarry Thérèse, I told Philip that it was crazy, but that I thought I might be pregnant.  We decided to take a pregnancy test to confirm that we weren't.  Before I took it, we discussed the possibility that a positive did not necessarily indicate pregnancy, but that the residual hormones from my previous pregnancy with Thérèse could create a false positive.  With this in mind, I went to take the test.  Instantly, the test was positive.  I had to take a picture so that I would still believe the results long after the test faded. 

"Oh, God," I prayed, "Please guard my heart and give me the strength to accept whatever this means."  Just like any other time I took a pregnancy test, I brought it out to show Philip.  We cried our happy tears, and we instantly told each other not to get our hopes up.  It was well after office hours, so I waited to call my OB until the next morning. 

First thing in the morning, I called my OB's office, and I asked to speak with my OB's amazing nurse.  I'll never forget her for hugging me in the ultrasound room when we found out that Thérèse had died and for helping me through the whole process.  Let's call the sweet nurse Allison.     

"Allison," I said, "I took a pregnancy test, and it was positive."

In her usual calm manner, she said, "Oh...well...did you have unprotected sex?"

I felt like a promiscuous teenager answering that question.  "Yes...but only once!" I said.

"Well," she laughed, "that's all it takes!"

As I expected, she was careful with her words from there.  She instructed me to come in for a blood draw to check my HCG levels.  "Then, you'll come back 48 hours later.  If the levels have at least doubled, that indicates that you are pregnant.  If the levels don't increase that much, it indicates that you may have some retaining fetal tissue, or you may just have some residual hormones."  

I couldn't wait, so I went in to the lab that afternoon, December 5, before the kids' naptime to get a blood draw.  The results came back hours later, and I got a phone call from Allison.  "Your HCG level is ___."  I can't remember what the number was.  I said, "Ok, so translate for me.  What are we working with?"  In typical Allison fashion, she said, "Well, it's elevated.  So, it's hard to say for sure at this point.  We'll have to wait until your 48-hour blood draw to know for sure.  It's definitely in the range for a positive pregnancy test, but we won't know for sure until after your second blood draw."

So, I went in for my second blood draw on December 7.  It was a Friday, and I was so nervous that I wasn't going to get the results before the weekend!  Right before 5, Allison called.  

"Catherine?  It's Allison.  I have the results of your blood test.  Your HCG level is ____."  

The number was much, much higher than the first test.  It had more than tripled! 

"So, what does that mean?" I asked.  

"It means I think you're pregnant.  Congratulations!" 

"Really?!  Really?!  Oh my goodness.  I can't believe it!"  Of course, I was trying to keep myself composed over the phone, but I was sobbing at this point.  

Allison told me to make an appointment for an ultrasound at 5 weeks to confirm the pregnancy.  I thanked her, she congratulated me again, and I hung up the phone.  

Then, the weight of it all sunk in.  
I'm pregnant.  
I got pregnant two weeks after we lost Thérèse.  
We are having a Rosary for Thérèse in two days.  

It was a bizarre time emotionally.  We wrestled with sharing the news with our families at the Rosary, but we decided to wait until we could see a heartbeat on ultrasound and confirm that everything was okay.  So, we had a beautiful day celebrating our baby Thérèse in prayer.  The day was even sweeter knowing that I could ask for Thérèse's intercession for her baby brother or sister.  "Please," I prayed.  "Please, I don't know if I can take losing another baby right now.  Please let us keep this baby."  

The days c...r...a...w...l...e...d by until my ultrasound.  The day finally came, but I ended up having to reschedule because of a snowstorm.  By the time I had the ultrasound, I was nearly 6 weeks along according to our estimates.  

I confided in a friend what was going on, and she offered to watch the kids so that Philip and I could go to the appointment by ourselves.  We didn't think we could endure hearing that we had lost another baby with them in the room.

The same ultrasound tech that told us Thérèse had died was performing this ultrasound.  I told her I was nervous and that I wanted to know exactly what I should anticipate seeing on the screen before we began.  "We think you're only 5 weeks and 6 days, so it's probably too early to see a heartbeat, and the baby will be very, very tiny."  I prayed to the Blessed Mother to give me the strength I needed to endure whatever she told us.  Before scanning my uterus, she examined my ovaries and looked over everything else to make sure it was as it should be.  My right ovary showed signs that it had recently ovulated.  Good!  Oh, the waiting was agony.  When the image of my uterus came into view, we instantly saw a tiny, tiny baby.  Then, I noticed the fluttering.  "That's the baby's heartbeat," said the ultrasound tech.  

Philip squeezed my shoulders.
Tears streamed down my cheeks.  It was difficult to see the screen.
The baby's heartbeat!  
We had never even seen Thérèse's heartbeat!  
This baby has a heartbeat!  
The baby is okay!
I'm really pregnant!

The ultrasound tech took some measurements and took the baby's heart rate.  The baby measured just 3mm and had a heartbeat!  Amazing!  The baby measured right on target with the dates we provided my OB.  Without an LMP (last menstrual period) to date the pregnancy, my OB had to rely on the information that we were only together once two weeks after my D&C.  If I ovulated two weeks after my D&C, that would coincide with the date we gave him.  The ultrasound confirmed what we thought was impossible--we got pregnant with this baby two weeks after we lost Thérèse.  

After seeing the heartbeat on ultrasound, we decided we would announce the news to our families at Christmastime.  After the ultrasound, Philip and I went to get a bite to eat in the hospital cafeteria.  I'll never forget the date of the ultrasound (Friday, December 14) because I watched the news about the Newtown, Connecticut shooting come on the cafeteria tv as I waited for Philip to pick up our order.)  We were numb from the news.  We couldn't believe we were really pregnant, that we saw a heartbeat, and that all signs pointed to everything being okay.  

I popped into the restroom on our way to the car.  Then, the unthinkable happened.  There was blood.  I told Philip I thought it was probably from the ultrasound and that I'd call my OB if it got worse.  It got worse as the day went on, but it eventually went away.  A few days later, I had another bleeding episode.  This time, I thought for sure that the baby was gone.  I called my OB, and they had me come in on December 21 for another ultrasound to check on the baby.  Despite the bleeding, all was well.  The first bleeding episode was likely from the ultrasound and a little implantation bleeding.  We're still not sure what caused the second bleeding episode, but it was short-lived and considered normal first trimester bleeding.  Ugh!  I thought I was losing the baby every time I saw blood.  I thought I was re-living losing Thérèse.

With the good news that all was well with Baby, we told our families around Christmas that we were pregnant.  They were as surprised as we were, but they congratulated us and assured us of their prayers for this baby.  

I had another appointment January 10, and Baby looked great on ultrasound.  After that appointment, I started to absorb that I was really pregnant.  I was cautiously optimistic, but I wasn't ready to share the news with the world yet.  

I didn't have another appointment until January 31.  I was nearly at the 12-week mark, so it was supposed to be a quick appointment with a check of my vitals and a quick listen to Baby's heartbeat on the doppler.  

Days before that ultrasound, my good friend (the same friend who watched the kids for the first ultrasound) met me for dessert.  She asked me how I was doing and mentioned Thérèse.  Instantly, I burst into tears.  I realized I hadn't even asked myself how I was doing in a long time and that I was so preoccupied with this pregnancy that I hadn't allowed myself to grieve, process, or do much beyond get through the long days with "morning" sickness, Philip's rotten schedule that month, or worry about the unknowns with this pregnancy.

After I got home from my dessert date with my friend, Philip and I had a great talk on the couch and checked in with one another emotionally for the first time in probably a month.  That's how it is with good friends--they prompt you to make your marriage better.  Philip and I had been so consumed with the holidays and just being in survival mode that we had put the grieving process on hold.  Thank goodness for good friends that help put us back on track!  

Philip and I held hands on the couch and cried as we talked about missing Thérèse, worrying about this baby, and being tired of residency's crazy hours.  I confided in Philip that I was convinced there was something wrong with the baby and that I was ready for the worst at my ultrasound.  He said he understood why I was worried, but he reminded me of all of the positive signs we had from previous appointments that pointed to things being okay. 

When the ultrasound rolled around a few days later, Philip was able to come at the last minute because of some very sweet attending doctors on his rotation.  God bless them!  Thank goodness he came because it was a stressful appointment.  My vitals all looked good.  When it came time to listen to Baby's heartbeat on the doppler, the appointment got scary.  I prayed the entire time my OB scanned my belly with the doppler.  After searching for two minutes, my OB couldn't find a heartbeat.  Very calmly, he said, "Let's go across the hall and take a peek on the ultrasound."  Those were his exact words at my 12-week appointment with Thérèse before we saw that she had died.  I told myself that the baby was gone.  

We settled in to the ultrasound room, and the image on the screen came into view.  Instantly, we saw a perfectly formed little baby with a fluttering heart.  In fact, he or she kicked off of my uterine wall throughout the exam and made it very difficult for my OB to take any measurements.  Baby's heart rate was right on target (161), and Baby measured 11 weeks and 5 days--exactly how far along I was that day!  I told my OB how nervous he made me when he couldn't find the heart rate.  He assured me that my chances of miscarrying after that appointment were very, very low, and that Baby looked great.  He said to feel good about things, and I finally believed him.   

After receiving confirmation that Baby was okay and that everything looked great, we decided to share the news with the rest of our friends and extended family.  We posted this picture of Walt getting an "Eviction Notice" from the nursery on Facebook.  He was ready for his morning nap, and we took his pacifier away, so it was easy to capture a sad pout from him.

Since November, I've felt that my life has been in a holding pattern.  Not a day goes by that I don't fear losing Baby, but I'm finally allowing myself to make an emotional connection.  I'm finally finding myself thinking about Baby as a part of this family and imagining him or her with us in August.

12-week belly shot

God is teaching me each day to relinquish control, live in the present, and trust.  I'm learning to trust that He will guide the roller coaster ride I'm on through all of the scary twists and turns to a safe return home.  Some days, I'm white-knuckled and feel as though I'm going to be sick (some days literally!).  Other days, I allow myself to enjoy the rush as I anticipate the next curve.  Losing Thérèse taught me that our lives are completely out of my hands.  God will give.  God will take.  God will be there to love me through it all.  I need only entrust myself and our family to Him.  The trouble is, I forget this reality and fall into the trap of thinking our lives are in my control.  Usually, God swiftly returns me to my knees where I belong when that happens.

I am so grateful for the gift of my Catholic Faith throughout these last several months.  Without the belief that our baby Thérèse is a saint in heaven that can intercede on behalf of our family, enduring losing her and thinking that we were losing this baby would be unbearable.  I can't help but think that without Thérèse dying, we would never have the precious baby growing inside of me.  It is bittersweet to think that this baby is due three months after Thérèse would have been born.  My greatest hope as a parent is to get our family to heaven.  Thinking that we already have one member there is all the incentive we need to keep working toward that goal.  

I'm reading Kimberly Hahn's book Beloved and Blessed.  She recounts a conversation with her son, Joseph, when he realized his mom miscarried two babies before him.

"How soon did the baby die before you conceived me?"
"Joseph, I miscarried just weeks before we conceived you."
"So if that baby had not died, I wouldn't be here, would I?"
"No, Joseph."

Joseph thought for a moment, and he shared this profound thought:  "Mom, I'm sorry the other baby died, but this way you get to have us both!"

I love everything about that passage!  How lucky am I that I get to have BOTH my saint Thérèse in heaven AND this precious baby growing inside of me?!  Amazing!  

So, I'm getting on with the business of remembering that we are blessed and that God want us to be happy.  Sure, I'll continue to grieve and cry for the baby I never held, but I'm not a bad mother for being happy or even for forgetting about Thérèse from time to time.  After all, God's taking care of her.  She's in far better hands with Him anyway!  

Meanwhile, the precious babies we already have are helping me to remember just how blessed we are.  The day after my ultrasound, Jane was looking at my belly as I got dressed.  

Me:  Did we get to see Baby yesterday on the tv?

Jane:  Yes.

Me:  Wasn't the baby so cute?!

Jane:  No, Mama.  The baby isn't cute.

I was momentarily saddened by Janie's response.  Of course the baby was cute!  Perhaps this was just a little sibling jealousy coming out.

Jane:  Babies aren't cute; they're perfect.  Pets are cute, Mama.  Babies are perfect.

Out of the mouths of babes!  She's right, you know.  What a supreme blessing and honor that humans are made in the image and likeness of God.  Regardless of what lies ahead with this pregnancy (or any pregnancy), the babies are perfect because they are made exactly as God intended--with an immortal soul that He hopes will be returned to Him.  If we get to keep this baby, Thérèse taught me the time will only be "on loan," and that it is my job to return all of my babies to their Father.  I know she will help me to do just that.  

I hope I make you proud, Thérèse!  I miss you everyday.  Please pray for us.    

Family Prayer in the New Year

This last Advent, we decided to make our time around the Advent wreath a focal time of family prayer.  After dinner, Philip gave the kids baths and put them in their jammies while I did the dishes and cleaned the kitchen.  Afterward, we gathered around the dinner table.  With only the light from our Advent wreath candles, Philip led our family in prayer using Lisa Hendey's "O Radiant Dawn: 5-Minute Prayers Around the Advent Wreath."  (I highly recommend this booklet as a resource for your prayer time around the Advent Wreath.)

A few weeks into Advent, we realized how much we all looked forward to this time together.  We decided we wanted to continue that special, dedicated family prayer time in addition to our meal and bedtime prayer routine.  

Advent began nearly a month after we lost baby Thérèse.  During that first week of Advent, we prepared a family Rosary to commemorate Thérèse's life.  In preparation for the family Rosary, I put together a Family Prayer Binder.

Inside the binder, I included pocket dividers to hold laminated images of the different Mysteries of the Rosary.  (We purchased the images at our local Catholic bookstore, and I laminated them on my brand new laminator.  I love that thing!)

The images are beautiful and helpful for focusing on the Mysteries as we pray them.  

After we had the Rosary for Thérèse, we decided to start saying one decade of the Rosary during our prayer time around the Advent Wreath.  

Princess Janie loves this beautiful purple and pink Rosary given to me by my sister and brother-in-law on the occasion of their daughter's (my goddaughter's!) baptism. 

Walter can't be trusted with the nice Rosaries yet, so he gets this special, nearly indestructible one with plastic beads.  

After the Advent wreath went away, we realized we needed a new focal point in addition to the laminated images of the Mysteries of the Rosary.  Since the kids loved watching the flames of the Advent Wreath candles in the darkness, we decided to buy a beautiful gardenia-scented candle with a pretty cover.  When we burn that candle down to the bottom, we can use the cover on a new one.  

Weeks later, Janie still asks for "the purple Rosary."  She loves asking about the laminated images and is able to identify the various figures.  She told me today that "Jesus has long hair like Rapunzel."  Oh, the sweet innocence of children!  Janie loves getting to kiss Jesus' feet on the Crucifix of her Rosary at the end of our prayer and blow out the candle.

After Janie blows out the candle, Walt loves to wave the smoke around with his pudgy little hands.  

Sometimes he sticks his hand in a little too far!

We've been praying a decade each night for nearly a month, and the kids are really getting the swing of things.  Tonight, Philip said it was "time to pray the Rosary," and both kiddos came running to their chairs at the table.  Right on cue, Janie asked for her purple Rosary, and Walt told all of us "pray!" as he folded his hands.  


For now, one decade is the extent of our Rosary time around the dinner table.  At their ages (almost 3 and 19 months), we're happy to have them confined to their chairs and focused for five minutes.  We'll build from here!  I look forward to celebrating the different liturgical seasons and adding to our dedicated family prayer time.  

The Royal BABY

December 28th is the Feast of the Holy Innocents.  On this day, we celebrate the male babies murdered by King Herod in his paranoid attempt to preserve his throne and kill the newborn king, the Christ Child.  Today, we pray for those babies as well as all of the other Innocents that have died.  My niece, our baby Thérèse, other babies that died through miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant death, as well as the millions of babies that are victims of abortion come to mind.  Catholics entrust these Innocents' souls to our loving God's mercy, and the Church celebrates these babies as saints.  

On this Feast of the Holy Innocents, I came across Eric Metaxas' article "Gushing over the royal fetus: words matter" on Lifesitenews.com.    He made me consider all of the hoopla surrounding the royal baby in a new light.  Of course, like the rest of the world, I was thrilled for the couple when I heard the news, but I hadn't taken pause to consider what a wonderful blessing this royal baby is by his or her presence in the media spotlight.  

As a pro-life woman, I barely blinked at all of the reports about a "royal baby" and took that phrase for granted.  After all, when a woman is pregnant, she is having a baby, right?  I never considered what a wonderful, pro-life message the words "royal baby" send the world--especially early on in the pregnancy.  The news generally does semantic gymnastics when it refers to a pregnancy in the first trimester.  These babies are usually referred to as a "product of conception," "lump of tissue," or a "fetus." 

Yet, it seems when we're talking about royalty, there's no debate in the tabloids or news over the personhood of the royal offspring.  Since the news broke, we hear everywhere that Prince William and Duchess of Cambridge are having a baby--not a "product of conception," a "fetus," or a "lump of tissue."  In his article on Lifesitenews.com, Metaxas mentions a British blogger with the tongue-in-cheek pseudonym "Archbishop Cranmer," "referencing the 16th-century Protestant divine who was executed during the reign of Queen Mary on the charge of heresy."  I think Metaxas is onto something when he quotes the hypocrisy "Archbishop Cranmer" notes the media treatment of the "royal baby" compared to other first trimester babies: 

Noting the excitement in British society about the child who is “destined to ascend the throne,” the modern “Archbishop Cranmer” points out the slip of so many tongues. “Surely such ‘pro-choice’ newspapers and journals (and people) should be talking about a bunch of pluripotent stem cells, an embryo or a foetus?” he asks. “For reports suggest that the Duchess is still in her first trimester, so this is not yet a baby; and certainly nothing with any kind of destiny. At this stage, surely, it is a non-person, just like the other 201,931 non-persons who last year were evacuated from wombs in England, Scotland and Wales.”

"Archbishop Cranmer" is right to question why the world unwaveringly considers the royal baby (even in the first trimester) a baby while the country legally aborted hundreds of thousands of babies and refers to other first trimester babies as "a bunch of pluripotent stem cells, an embryo or a foetus."  

When the world watched the Olympics in London, we witnessed the deep respect and love the English people have for the royal family.  That deep respect seems to be transferring naturally to the royal couple's children.  In an unspoken agreement, the English people and the world dare not degrade the royal baby to the status of "potential person."  

Some might lament that the world is anticipating the royal baby's birth more than it anticipated the birth of the Christ Child at Christmas, but let's focus on the good.  It is good and beautiful to witness the world anxiously awaiting the birth of any baby.  

It's interesting to consider that the world won't question the personhood of the royal baby, yet it turns a blind eye to the millions of babies that are victims of abortion.  If we believe what St. Paul tells us, we need to remember that we are royalty, too.  (Remember, though, our King wore a crown of thorns instead of jewels.) 

But you are a chosen race, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God's own people, that you may declare the wonderful deeds of him who called you out of darkness into his marvelous light.  (1 Peter 2:9)

If God is King and we are His children, we are made in His image and likeness and make up His royal priesthood.  When I taught high school Spanish at an all-girls school, I routinely told my students (en español) that they were God's princesses and deserved only the best treatment from any young men that they dated.  Now that I have children of my own, I demand that the world treat them as the royal babies that they are--not because they can do no wrong (ohhhhhhhh, believe me, my precious little ones can make my blood boil on the right day), but the world should treat them as royal babies because they are on loan to me from their perfect Father.  Just as I expect the world to treat them as royal babies, I expect them to return the same treatment to everyone else on this planet because we're equally important in the eyes of God.  

So, Holy Innocents, please pray for us.  Pray that we see the inherent beauty and dignity in every human person--especially the unborn, disabled, and elderly.  Pray that we defend the Innocents among us.  Help us to anticipate the birth of every baby with hope and joy in the knowledge that the baby will be a member of a royal priesthood.    

Baby Jesus' Birthday Party

At the beginning of Advent, we started explaining to the children that we were preparing for Baby Jesus' birthday.  We had Christmas Eve all to ourselves this year, so we decided to throw Baby Jesus a birthday party.  When I took the kids to the grocery store last week, I asked Janie to pick out the kind of cake that Jesus likes best.  Naturally, His favorite ended up being chocolate fudge with chocolate fudge frosting!

Janie and her trusty sidekick, Walt, helped Philip make Baby Jesus' chocolate chocolate cake.

Adding the ingredients

Mixing it all up

Philip did the frosting and writing

Janie thought the cake needed a little something, so she added some red sprinkles...

Some silver balls...

Some blue sprinkles...

And some rainbow sprinkles.  Ta da!  We thought this was the finished product...

Thumbs up from the baker

Philip gave Walt a taste of the frosting, and he ended up with a little mustache

Checking out the action.  This is when Janie gave the cake a final flourish of blue sprinkles!

Walt's not so sure about the added blue sprinkles.

The finished product!

We went to our parish's Children's Mass on Christmas Eve and came home for our Baby Jesus Birthday Party.  To mix things up a bit, we had brunch for dinner.  We went with a Christmas tree motif.

We added green food coloring to the waffle batter for our "tree."  The "star" is chopped up peaches, the "ornaments" are raspberries and blueberries, and the "trunk" is a sausage link.  The kids loved their trees!  We also had some cheesy scrambled eggs.  Yum yum!  

After brunch for dinner, I brought the Fontanini and Little People Nativity Baby Jesus figurines out of hiding to join us at the dinner table.  We put a single candle on the birthday cake, turned out the lights, and sang "Happy Birthday" to Baby Jesus.  The cake was a big hit--especially with Walt!

The kids were SO EXCITED that Baby Jesus was finally in His manger in the nativity scenes!  Janie kept saying, "Aw, Baby Jesus is sooooooo cute!" giving him smooches, and laying Him back in His manger.  Walt walked around with the Little People Baby Jesus, saying, "Baby!  Baby!  Baby!"  It was a fun little celebration with our little family to celebrate the birth of the Christ Child.

My Thoughts on Sandy Hook

I sat down to write tonight, hoping to put something cohesive together about what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary last Friday.  I can't.  All that I can come up with is a bunch of thoughts simultaneously running through my mind.  Maybe that's what this post needs to be since my brain isn't capable of formulating well thought-out paragraphs.  Maybe I just need to get it all out.

I wrote about the usual tropes with mass shootings after the movie theater massacre in Aurora, Colorado.  That post highlighted the pandemic of instability our youngest members of society face in the United States.  Instability, I argued, is the greatest cause of problems among our country's youth.  

Does our country need tighter gun control laws?  No doubt about it.  Will tighter gun control laws save lives?  Logic tells me they will.  Yet, no matter how tight the laws are or how well they are enforced, I believe a mentally unstable person desperate to do others or themselves harm will find a way to find a lethal weapon.  So, the solution extends beyond the gun laws.

We can't jump to conclusions about any shooter from any of these cases, yet we can observe the parallels and hope to learn something from them.  When classmates, friends, family members, or other acquaintances describe the shooters, their adjectives include: adolescent, male, loner, awkward, isolated, computer geek, goth, average, depressed, quiet, smart, nice, divorced parents, suburban.  Lumped together, these adjectives often do not add up to what the education system considers an "at-risk" kid.  A non-minority child with good to average grades from a middle to middle-upperclass background simply won't get the attention and resources that the "squeakier wheels"(i.e. children with behavioral outbursts, socioeconomic concerns, learning disabilities) receive.  

I do not doubt our country is full of hardworking and sacrificial teachers that give nothing less than their best everyday to their students.  We cannot fault our educators or the education system for allowing these truly at-risk children to "slip through the cracks."  We need to see what brokenness these children are bringing with them to school that our education system cannot and must not be expected to repair.  

Many of these young men come from broken homes and many are raised by single moms.  There are plenty of single parents in this country (most are moms) who are doing a heck of a job raising their children on their own, but I imagine most would concede that it's not ideal.  Parenting is a tough gig, and there are all kinds of reasons that God designed it to be a tag team effort.  (While we're at it, parenting used to be an extended family and neighborhood team effort, but we're talking about moms and dads right now.)  Parenting is supposed to be a mom-dad tag team effort because, no matter how much protesting or hate mail this comment receives, mothers and fathers are not interchangeable, they do not perform the same functions in families, and they and their children need one another to bring their unique gifts to the family.  (In putting my thoughts together, I realized I actually have a lot of thoughts on this topic.  In the interest of staying on-topic, I bunched those thoughts all together into another blog post that I'll publish another time.) 

In the Sandy Hook case, we hear that the shooter's mother stayed at home with him, homeschooled him for some time after fighting with the school board, and received substantial financial support from the shooter's father.  The father seems largely forgotten in the scenario while the news and blog comment boxes are full of belligerent comments about the mother.  This is where we see that even a stay at home mother or financial stability is not enough.  We all know it is not always possible because of death, military service, or another reason, but whenever possible (and barring unique situations like abuse), the ideal scenario for a child is living with their mother and father.  

As a society, let's beef up the gun control laws and figure out what makes these shooters "at-risk."  Let's examine our mental health diagnostics, procedures, and protocol.  Let's get these troubled youth the help they need, but let's not depend on our education system to catch everyone.  Our educators are already overworked, underpaid, and generally expected to raise our country's children for us.  Let's look within our own families and ourselves as parents to determine what we can do to be our children's best advocates.  Let's create as much stability as possible for our children.  Let's remember that women and men are not interchangeable, that we need each other, and that we need to work together within the family context to help our children transition healthily into adulthood.  Let's remember that marriage is a lifelong commitment to one another and any children that we help to create.             

Sharing What I Learned

Losing our precious baby Thérèse taught me many things, introduced me to many resources, and showed me how many families are affected by miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant death.  Since sharing our story, nearly fifty women and their family members reached out to me to share their stories or ask for advice on how to navigate through this time that nobody seems to talk about.  

Rather than keep the advice and lessons learned to myself or within private messages, I want to share helpful lessons and resources with everyone interested in learning more.  Whether a person needs the advice now or faces the death of a baby down the road, hopefully this shared insight will help them to face that time with some gained perspective and the knowledge that there is a community of support ready and willing to help. 

Here is what Philip and I learned:

Hold The Baby and Bring Items for Them to Hold
If parents receive a terminal prenatal diagnosis for their baby, think he or she may die shortly after birth, or that the baby may not even survive the birthing process, consider a c-section.  A c-section may offer them the opportunity to hold their living baby. 

If other family members are present or will be shortly after death, invite them to hold the baby.  This will be their only chance to see and behold your precious baby, so offer them that option if you are comfortable with it or they request it.  I was able to hold my niece shortly after she died, and I am so grateful that my sister and brother-in-law gave me that tremendous blessing.  It was the only chance I had to hold her and see her with my own eyes as my precious, irrepeatable niece. 

Get the Right Doctor, Be Your Family's Best Advocate, and Trust Your Gut
If you feel that your doctor is not sensitive to your family's needs or wishes, switch doctors.  Some physicians may advocate termination when you desperately wish to move forward with a pregnancy despite a terminal diagnosis.  Find a doctor who will help your family to make decisions that uphold your family's beliefs.  

I highly recommend finding a pro-life doctor from OneMoreSoul.com.  This is how we found my amazing NFP-only OBGYN.  Without his pro-life convictions and support, I think losing our baby would have been a different experience.  Despite what the science was telling him, he trusted my gut feeling that something was wrong and told me to come on in for an ultrasound.  The ultrasound confirmed that Thérèse had died.  He always referred to Thérèse as our baby instead of "the fetus" or "the products of conception," affirmed that her death was a real loss, and encouraged us to take all the time we needed to grieve. 

Make Memories Just Like It Were a "Regular" Pregnancy or Delivery
During the pregnancy, do the things parents do during "regular" pregnancies to make memories.  Keep everything.  I asked to keep the ultrasound pictures of Thérèse because they were the only chance I had to see her.  Take belly pictures, write in a journal, or write letters to the baby.  Writing was very therapeutic for me after we found out we were miscarrying, and several women shared that putting their thoughts into writing during a pregnancy with a terminal diagnosis helped them as well.  Whether it's a personal journal, a private or public blog, or some other writing outlet, writing is a helpful way to put thoughts into words or remember the details as they happen when you don't have the energy to talk to another person.  The other reason I loved writing about things as I felt them was that I wanted to capture the details.  I wanted them on paper so that when I was ready to relive some moment or face something emotionally, the memory was all laid out for me to throw myself into.  Rereading about the day we found out Thérèse had died or the day I had my emergency D&C helps with the healing process on the days that I am able to relive the experience.  

Bring special items like a stuffed animal or a blanket to wrap the baby in at the hospital.  These items that your baby touched are treasures.  Some hospitals provide services to take clay imprints of the baby's footprints.  Consider creating a playlist of music to play during labor, delivery, and after the baby is born.  The music that you listened to as you met and held your baby might bring you comfort in the future.  

There is a fantastic resource called Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep Photography.  NILMDTS specializes in the photography of parents with their babies 25 weeks or older for a private session at the hospital immediately after their baby's death.  Over 5000 photographers are available throughout the country to offer this invaluable service to grieving parents searching for a way to capture their baby's memory.   You can find a photographer through the NILMDTS website here. 

Name the Baby
Choose a name for your baby.  This way, your precious, irrepeatable little baby will be more in conversation than "the baby we lost."  Other family members will have a name to refer to them by, and you have a name to call on in heaven when you ask for their intercession in prayer. 

You may not be far enough along in the pregnancy to know the sex of the baby, and that's okay.  You can either pick a name based on the inkling you had or choose a name that works for both genders.  

Baptize the Baby
If the baby survives delivery and is in danger of death, baptize the baby.  If possible, make arrangements ahead of time and ask your priest to be there in the delivery room.  If not, remember that anyone, including parents, can baptize case of danger of death.  All that is necessary is some water to pour over the baby's head as you say the words, "I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit."  Pour the water one time for each member of the Blessed Trinity, and add the baby's name before blessing if you chose a name.  For example, "Innocent, I baptize you in the name of (pour water) the Father, and of (pour water) the Son, and (pour water) of the Holy Spirit."  For further information, consult the Code of Canon Law and the Catechism of the Catholic Church.  Your parish priest will help you navigate these questions as well.      

Formally Commemorate Your Baby's Life and Death
I recommend having a formal memorial service of some kind.  Gather family and friends (whoever you'd like to be present) to celebrate a memorial Mass, a Rosary, or some other formal way to recognize that you were blessed with a precious baby that died and that you want to remember and pray for them together.   

Honor other family members by asking them to participate in your ceremony.  We asked our niece and nephews to each lead a decade of the Glorious Mysteries of the Rosary for Thérèse.

Many cemeteries and funeral homes work with families at little to no cost to provide them with caskets or burial plots for babies.  Many cemeteries have special areas set aside for babies that die through miscarriage, stillbirth, or as infants.  Our baby Thérèse died at 12 weeks gestation, so she will be buried in a special crypt with other miscarried babies in a Catholic cemetery.  We are comforted knowing that there will be a physical place that we can go to with a marker to visit our baby.  

If the baby has older siblings, some parents ask the children to bring a balloon to the burial to send up to heaven for the baby to "catch."  Having a physical place to visit on the anniversary of the baby's death, original due date, or other important family anniversaries can be very healing.  

Celebrate the Anniversaries
Find a ritual that works for your family to memorialize your baby.  Perhaps you'll visit your baby's gravesite, donate a blanket or monetary gift to the hospital NICU, donate to your parish school, or find another way to share the love of your child with your larger community.  My sister and brother-in-law decided they would commemorate each passing year by donating to an area women's religious order summer camp for vocations in honor of their daughter.  

Advocate for the Proper Handling of Your Baby's Remains
Unfortunately, not all hospitals or healthcare providers are as sensitive as they should be with the handling of your baby's remains.  In our case, I had to go to an area non-Catholic hospital emergency room for an emergency D&C after severe blood loss.  

I was asked to fill out a form to determine what we wanted to happen with Thérèse's remains as I was being prepped for an emergency D&C.  There were three options available on the form.  Option one was to allow the hospital to treat the remains according to hospital policy.  This basically amounted to treating our baby as medical waste.  The other options were to release Thérèse's remains to a funeral home or to say that we were unsure at the time.  

Philip had accepted a job after residency in another city, so we knew we wanted Thérèse's remains buried there.  We asked that Thérèse's remains be released to us so that we could deliver them to a Catholic hospital in that city to make arrangements for burial in that city's Catholic cemetery.  Unfortunately, it was against this hospital's policy to release the "products of conception" directly to parents.  They usually worked through funeral homes.  In our case, since we would have needed Thérèse's remains transferred to another city, it would have cost a pretty penny to have a funeral home deliver her remains to the hospital in the other city.  Had we miscarried at home, we would have avoided the legal hoops and could have delivered our baby's remains to the hospital for burial without incident.  

It took a very special pathologist from the hospital to advocate for us with the hospital's administration and legal team to get Thérèse's remains released to us.  Although he is our baby's father, Philip could not pick up Thérèse's remains since they were in my name as the hospital patient.  So, I packed up the kids, and we headed to the hospital to pick up Thérèse's remains.  The hospital had to draw up a release for me to sign, saying that I would deliver Thérèse's remains to the Catholic hospital for burial.  Also, I had to sign that I was aware that "coming into contact with the products of conception" could cause serious infection or even death.  The pathologist shook my hand and said that he was so sorry we had to go through all of the legal hoops.  He said he went to bed the night before feeling terrible about how things happened but that he was glad he could help a family bury their baby as they wished.  I think of that sweet pathologist often and am so grateful for how hard he worked to help us.  

If you feel that the way your doctor, a nurse, or other healthcare professional handled your situation was not helpful, let them know.  I am writing a respectful letter to the hospital where I had the D&C.  When I was bleeding uncontrollably, the emergency doctor started to remove Thérèse without telling me what he was doing.  Perhaps he was just focused on stopping the bleeding, but I had to ask Philip and the nurses to tell me what was happening.  I watched as he filled container after container, and I kept asking if he had found our baby.  It was a bizarre and helpless feeling.  We were also disappointed in the way the hospital would not release Thérèse's remains to us without a fight.  If I don't make the hospital aware of our story or our feelings, other families may experience the same kind of fear or frustration.  I hope my writing a letter to the hospital will help others.   

Although we had some negative experiences with some healthcare professionals, there are many well-trained and sensitive doctors or nurses trained to help families through and in preparation for the death of a baby.  If you receive a terminal diagnosis during pregnancy or your baby dies while in the hospital, find out if there are trained grief support professionals available to help you.  There are often registered nurses with additional training in bereavement services.  These special people can help facilitate the creation of mementos, referrals for community support, registration for grief support groups, or help your family to make various unexpected decisions.  They will help families to avoid unnecessary heartache by doing things (with your permission) such as: marking your door with a special sign to alert others that your baby died (this will prevent well-meaning nurses or others from asking hurtful questions about breastfeeding, newborn photos, etc.), or they may help you to be transferred away from the maternity wing if you wish, etc.     

Consider the Gift of Life
Some babies are eligible for organ donation.  Although it might be too difficult to consider beforehand or even in the moment, your precious baby can give other families the gift of life.  The donor recipients will be living memorials to your baby.  If you have ethical concerns about this practice, contact the National Catholic Bioethics Center in Philadelphia for a consultation.

Read or Listen When You Don't Feel Like Talking
There are some fantastic books and other resources available for parents or other family members searching for support when they don't feel like talking.  Reading was a great comfort to me during the quiet of night, when Philip had a long shift, or during the kids' naptime.  I read a few books that I highly recommend:

1. Naming the Child: Hope-filled Reflections on Miscarriage, Stillbirth, and Infant Death by Jenny Schroedel.
2. Empty Cradle, Broken Heart:  Surviving the Death of Your Baby by Deborah Davis.   I need to point out that this book shares stories of post-abortive women as well as families that lost babies through miscarriage, stillbirth, or infant death.  Feel free to skip through the stories that are not as helpful or pertinent to your situation.  Reading stories about women who chose to end their pregnancies when I so desperately wanted mine was difficult, so I chose to skip those.  Nonetheless, those women need to find healing, and this would be a tremendous book for post-abortive women trying to find support.
3. Catholic Answers Live podcast, After Miscarriage, with Karen Edmisten and Donna Murphy.  Donna Murphy has an apostolate called Heaven's Gain dedicated to casket making for babies.  Karen Edmisten wrote a book called After Miscarriage: A Catholic Woman's Companion to Healing and Hope that I read and found very uplifting.  
4. The Problem of Pain and A Grief Observed by C.S. Lewis.  Lewis tried to address the problem of evil as a Christian in The Problem of Pain.  It wasn't until the death of his wife that he felt he personally experienced profound pain and wrote about enduring it as a Christian in A Grief Observed.   

I know there are other wonderful books out there, but these were very helpful for me.  Each of the books has a rich bibliography full of additional resources. 

Forgive Others and Give Yourself a Break
When others say or do the wrong thing, stay away, or don't know what to do, forgive them.  When someone says the wrong thing, you can tell them, but remember that their risking saying the wrong thing is probably coming from a place of love.

When you're not ready to talk, you're struggling through your grief, or you need to ask for help to get through the day, forgive yourself.  My wonderful friends and family offered to take the kids so that I had time to be with my thoughts or cry.  This was a tremendous gift.  One of my favorite things to do was sit in silence in the adoration chapel, let the tears flow when they came, and listen to our Lord.  

Don't be afraid to ask for help, and don't be afraid to make the request specific.  As my friend told me, "People love you, Catherine.  They want to help you.  They need it, too.  Let them."      

If the grief becomes overwhelming, get the help you need to work through the healing process. 
   
Make Sure "Dad" Gets Support
Dads often get forgotten while Mom and Baby get all of the attention.  Make sure "Dad" is able to work through his feelings and get the support that he needs.  Philip and I made it our routine to check in with each other before bed each night.  A month later, we still check in.  "How are you doing today?"  

Since men tend to handle things differently, and each man will handle things differently than another, help your husband find a way to grieve and share in his own way.  Some men might enjoy talking with other dads or just having a little silence.  Since many men don't have a chance to decompress on the way home from work or have friends to talk to about their baby's death, give them an opportunity to have some silence before they get home.  My friends suggested that Philip pop into our parish adoration chapel for 10 minutes on his way home.  Also, remember that it is okay for your husband to grieve differently than you.

Don't Try to Compare Apples to Apples
No one may ever perfectly understand your story, and that's okay.  Nonetheless, it's human nature to compare stories.  When we hear about another family's tragic loss, sometimes we try to comfort them by saying something like, "Wow.  You had it so much worse than I did.  I only miscarried, and you had a full-term baby."  

Resist that temptation.  It's okay that our experiences are different because, well, they simply are.  There's not better or worse or easier or harder.  They are just ours.  

When my sister tried explaining this to me, she said a friend gave her some great advice.  "If we had all of our problems thrown into a pile, we'd still pick our exact same problem out of the pile again.  After awhile, you own it, and it becomes a part of you.  You wouldn't trade your problem for another person's problem because it's yours."   

So, whether you lost a baby days after a positive pregnancy test, in the delivery room, or just before their first birthday, you still lost your irrepeatable baby that you love.  Your baby deserves to be remembered, grieved, and prayed for.  Don't let your baby's age diminish your love affair or the depth of your grief.

What Did I Forget?
This is only a compilation of the things I learned, read, and experienced as we navigated losing Thérèse.  Everything I wrote won't be helpful for each person, and I'm only one person, so I undoubtedly didn't write everything on the topic.  Hopefully at least one thing I wrote will help you to help yourself or a loved one through the death of a beloved baby.  If you are a medical professional, hopefully this added insight will help you to be a better advocate for families and their babies.  If you have something to add, please share it below.  No family should have to experience the death of a baby and feel helpless as they navigate the process.  It is my prayer that sharing my story and the lessons we learned through the process prevents other families from experiencing further heartache and find peace as they grieve their baby.     

Additions Since Original Post:
A friend passed along information about the Missing Angels Bill.  If families have a baby that is stillborn, the Missing Angels Bill helps them to create a birth certificate for that baby.  The birth certificate is called a Certificate of Birth Resulting in Stillbirth.  Here is an article with more information. 

Another tremendous resource for families is the MISS Foundation.  According to their website, MISS is "an international 501(c)3, volunteer based organization providing C.A.R.E. [counseling, advocacy, research, and education] services to families experiencing the death of a child."  For more information or to find local MISS chapters, check out their website here.