Paizley Pain Subsides

"Humans are not meant to experience that kind of emotion. It was the greatest day of my life then it turned out to be the worst" ~Michael Waltrip

I heard this man on the radio today talking about the horrific day that Dale Earnhardt died. He won the Daytona 500 because of the help of Dale Earnhardt and Dale Earnhardt Jr. and while on the winning block, found out Dale had died in a wreck during the race. He talked about how the very greatest moment in his entire life, the most exciting moment, turned into a nightmare in an instant. Then he talked about how he learned to cope with it.

I feel for this guy. I know exactly what he means. He is right, humans are not meant to experience that kind of emotion... so very true. The day I went in to find out the sex of my little girl was the most exciting day of my life. I couldn't contain myself, I was so excited. Then, in an instant, it changed.

I think that I changed when that happened. I feel different, more humble, more grateful. For awhile there, my whole world was crashing down. Everything I had known for the past five months was gone. Everything I had dreamed of for my whole life was taken away... in an instant, it was all gone. She was still there, though, and I thank God that she was there to comfort me for a few days while I absorbed the shock. Unlike Michael Waltrip, who never got to say goodbye to his great friend, I was able to hold her within me and send her love.

I realized yesterday when reading a post on a pregnancy site that I have come a long way. There was a post by someone who had just found out that their baby was not as perfect as could be, that she would have to go through what I went through and I was able to feel for her but tell her it does get better. Although I still miss that little girl, I am not an emotional wreck anymore like I was for awhile. Although I still cry every time I think of her, the pain has subsided. When we lost the baby, I thought that if I wasn't pregnant again right away, I may explode or spontaneously combust or worse. I know now, that isn't true. It's been seven and a half months since we lost little Paizley and I'm still here. But I can't help but think that if we would have tried right away I'd be half-way there by now. Oh well. Life goes on. That's what I have found. Nomatter what happens in life, as long as my heart is still beating, life... goes... on.

Where Oh Where Can My Paizley Be?

Oh where, oh where can my baby be?
The Lord took her away from me
She's gone to heaven so I gotta be good
So I can see my baby when I leave this world

I heard that song driving around the other day and broke into tears... again. Although her passing has gotten easier as time has gone by, I still cry EVERY time I think about her. It's especially hard right now while I'm feeling distant from my husband. It's hard not to cling onto her when I'm sad. When I think of a brighter future and what I would want my life to be like, she's in it. And lately, I've wanted my life to take a different shape a whole lot.

Paizley Shaped Hole

Your laugh

It amazes me

The way your eyes flicker

Your mouth wide open

Head tilted back

And this silly, toothy giggle

The happiest girl in the world

Your kisses

Oooooo, they complete me

The way your mouth parts

No pucker

Just sloppy, wet sweetness

Planted with glee

All for me

And when you slumber

I watch and dream

About who you are

What you’ll become

Where life will journey

And I pray

I pray for your being

For your love through the thin

For sunny days

Starry nights

For your sweet laugh

Those sloppy, wet kisses

And to hold you in my arms

Mostly to hold you in my arms

Not around my neck

Not just in my dreams

Not just in my mind

That, my sweet angel baby

Would make me the happiest girl in the world

This heart, my love

Has a Paizley shaped hole

When you went away

My world changed

The sky turned black

The rain poured down

My solace is in the silver lining

That your toothy laughs

Your sloppy, wet kisses

May not be a dream one day

That this Paizley hole

May find its match

And the sun will shine again

Remembering Paizley Ann

"If you know someone who has lost a child, and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died--you're not reminding them. They didn't forget they died. What you're reminding them of is that you remembered that they lived, and that is a great gift."

~Elizabeth Edwards~

There comes a point after any tragic occurance where people tend to fade back into their own lives. People are passionate in their feelings for a moment, but if the experience doesn't directly pertain to them, their interest fades away and the only ones left with that tragedy are the people who it directly affected. That happens with the loss of a baby. The ones who haven't faded are the ones who know the struggle and feel the pain. And those that don't know, forget about that little girl when the next tragedy of interest rolls along leaving other poor victims in wreckage. This is life. I can't say I haven't been the one to fade away. It's natural, it's normal. I have absolutely faded.

An example of this is 9/11. The world was set on fire. We mourned the loss of thousands. Now, I'm pretty sure the only people who think about those victims every single day are the ones who lost their husband, father, mother, brother... the people most directly affected.

But just because I don't talk about her everyday doesn't mean I forgot. It doesn't mean that a single day goes by that I don't think about her. It's always nice when other people show they haven't forgotten as well.

What Would Paizley Do?

I was listening to the radio today and I heard Glen Beck talking about this woman named Lila Rose and how she is one of the bravest women he knows because she has stood up to places like Planned Parenthood and really exposed the dirty on abortions. She went undercover and caught Planned Parenthood telling a pimp how he can get around laws that prevent his hoes from coming in and having underage abortions. They told him to have them lie about their age and told him to sign as their guardian etc. Really, it made me sick. She also has exposed abortion for what it is by telling the stories of the unborn children and showing women other options.

What I saw when I went to her website, www.liveaction.org, made me really sick. I truly do not believe abortions should be legal. I think that a woman who would dispose of her perfectly viable fetus is wrong. I used to believe that all women should have a choice to their own body and that whatever decision they made for their own life was right, however, as abortion becomes more and more popular, it gets dirtier and dirtier. These clinics de-humanize babies in order to sway women to abort their children. It is sickening. The babies are not given a voice anymore. They do not even allow women to look at an ultrasound before the procedure because it allows them to see it for what it really is: the murder of their child and they are afraid they will back out.

As a woman who went through this disgusting procedure, I feel I have every right to be angry about it. Granted I had a “choice,” but really, I had NO choice. My child would have died at birth, or possibly been born stillborn. She would have gone thorough pain, only to pass away. I would have postponed the inevitable by continuing with my pregnancy. I would not have given her a life; I would have given her a more painful death. And I would have put myself in danger as well. I knew that my little girl would be appreciative of spending her final moments in a place where she felt safe and comfortable rather than making the painful journey through the birthing canal, being blinded by hospital lights, manhandled by a doctor, hooked up to tubes, gasping for a breath that won't come and then finally passing away in a rough-to-the-touch blanket while her mother's sobs carry her away. So, for that, I am glad that I was still given a choice.

Call me a hypocrite, but when these women go in and have abortions because they just don’t want their babies or don’t feel they are ready, I get angry. I sat in the waiting room of the clinic when I had my procedures and fumed because there were women in there just waiting to erase their pregnancies. I wanted to jump across the aisle and rip their faces off. It makes me especially angry because as a result of their actions, we have organizations such as Liveaction who are dedicating their resources to giving these children a voice that they do not have, which includes posting videos and pictures of abortions. The bloody truth. I think that they should, because I don’t want any viable baby to have to go through that but GODDAMN! It really hurts me to see those pictures... those tiny little limbs in pieces. And because of these women who casually kill their child, women like myself who are missing their angel babies are also demonized. I don’t want to be in the same category!

So, is it selfish to say that I am glad that “abortion” was an option for me, but I wish that it wasn’t an option for other women? I wish that any healthy baby would not have to go through that. I wish that women who just don’t want their babies would reconsider and give their babies up for adoption. I wish they didn’t have a choice. Now I know that I would catch a lot of shit for that if anyone read this. I know drug addicts have abortions because they don’t want their babies and maybe it’s better for the child… maybe. I know that taking away the option would create a ton of “unwanted” children. I know that we cannot financially support making abortion illegal. This is just my opinion in this very moment, without reasoning, without thinking into it. Because if abortion was only reserved to those babies who would not live, then maybe in a perfect world, this world would be a better place.

Millions of Babies but None are Paizleys

Part of losing a baby is coping with the fact that your baby wasn’t the first pregnancy and won’t be the last. Well, most people would say, “Duh” but unless you have experienced the pain of losing a child (or the pain of desperately wanting one, but not getting pregnant), you won’t know what that feeling is like. Every time I see a mother and her child, I want that. I think about how my baby girl would be xx old now (one month tomorrow, actually) and I wonder what that would be like. Every time I see a mother with her child, I want to cry and break down, I want to scream, I want to lock myself in a closet for awhile… pretty much every time. Every time I hear someone else is expecting, I go through a series of sadness, joy, jealously, wanting, anger, happiness… where is my Paizley girl?? Every time yet another person posts the pictures of them and their significant other in the delivery room taking their first look at their precious little bundle of joy, I cry. It’s not a “why me”, per se; it’s a “sad it’s not me.” I don’t want to speculate why this happened to me. It happened, that’s it. And it happened to me. But I’ll be damned if I don’t feel sadness thinking about the fact that she’s not here when she was supposed to be. It’s not that I don’t want others to have that joy, I just want it too.

You get to a certain age where it’s pretty much breeding season, kind of like hunting season, but one that lasts about 5-10 years. During this span from about age 25-35, you can pretty much bet that at least 6 people you know, at any given point in time, are expecting a child or just had their baby. Now, back to hunting… you’ve been waiting for this season to hit for a long, long time; you’re out with all your gear, in the rain/sleet/snow for weeks on end and you’re the one person who doesn’t come home with an elk. It’s a pretty sad story. You can’t wait to try your best friend’s elk burgers, of course, but it’s pretty bittersweet having that thought in the back of your head that you just wanted your elk. Well folks, it’s hunting season and I am the elk-less bitch here.

No Paizley, No Cry

You would be here today, little girl. That is, if you were as good to me still as you were then and you came on time. Today is being spent trying to stay positive and happy instead of sad and going through all the what-ifs. I will still think of you today, as everyday, I just cannot allow myself to wallow in the sorrow of not getting to go to the hospital today and meet my little girl. If I let myself go there, there will be no turning back. I am just going to focus on wishing you to have a little sister one day... one day soon, I hope.