Blurring the personal line

Some of these questions were kind of hard. Hard to know what to say, hard to answer. My answers aren't perfect - and I'm sure aren't 100% correct (because the answers often depend on my surroundings) but here you go:

1. What were the things people said to you that were the most comforting and helpful?
   Sometimes having someone just say that they were sorry and giving you a hug was all that was needed. Or for many of our friends that weren't in the area - a text with words saying that you were thinking about us, praying for us, and loved us was the perfect thing to say. Just knowing we weren't alone - and we were loved was a huge spirit booster.
2. What is comforting to say to someone who is going through such a traumatic and heart breaking event?
   There isn't a standard answer for this. The best thing is to listen to your gut. For me, I couldn't talk on the phone. I read each text I received but I hardly wrote back. So if you reach out to someone going through a heartbreaking event - just be there for them when they need you - without smothering or butting in. Don't say things like "everything happens for a reason", "at least he's in a better place", or "you'll have more babies". Because while those things are true - they are the last things you want to hear. Because yes, there is a plan. And you will survive. But  it doesn't mean it's easy to accept.. and Heaven is a better place - but in your arms is a good place too.  and Yes, hopefully there will be more babies - but I want MY baby. 
3. What is helpful to have others do for you?
   When all was said and done and we had about a week of just "us" before graduation and burying Freddie. the thing that made that really helped were meals. I was soo against having meals brought in because we were okay. I could cook. But really - I couldn't. The thought of going to the grocery store made me break down and cry. We were so grateful for the meals brought in - it was so simple yet made life a tiny bit easier. Also having great friends who would just stop by to say hi and end up staying to chat or bring me a sonic drink - those things really helped too. 
4. What is the hardest thing to hear from others when you know they don't mean it to be harmful or insensitive but to you it is?
   The hardest question for me is "so...how are you doing" with the sympathetic eyes and hand on my arm. Without fail that will make me cry so please don't ask. Because asking "how are you?" is so standard -ask how I am in a cheerful way so I immediately answer in a cheerful way. We know I'm not okay - but unless I bring it up please don't.
   Also, sometimes it's hard to hear the "miracle" stories of people that have been in the same situation. At first we wanted to hear about thriving babies just like Freddie but once we learned of his condition - I didn't care about any of those stories and I didn't want to hear them. Be sensitive when trying to shed a little hope on the situation because you may not not the whole story and someone else's miracle may cause more heartache.
5. Have you been given any answers (medically) as to why you just went into labor on your own so early?
   My doctor in Arizona simply stated it was an infection in my placenta. With no cause, no prevention, and no warning signs. She breezed over it very nonchalantly as though I had a stubbed my toe NOT lost my baby. However, my new doctor in Utah doesn't think it was an infection entirely. I am undergoing tests to see if there is anything else that could have caused it. At this point - things are indicating a complete fluke.
6. Do you think you'll ever try to have a baby again?
   The first time I was asked this question - i almost laughed. then cried. Having a baby was obviously something we wanted and want very much. I have a baby. I am a mother. But we want more than anything to bring a healthy baby home. Sure the thought of being pregnant is terrifying but I have faith that we will have babies. 
7. How long do you think you'll wait to have a baby?
   My Arizona and Utah doctors agreed that it is smartest to undergo a number of tests and procedures before getting pregnant again. Both doctors think it was a complete fluke but we aren't about to chance it. Hopefully I'll be done with the tests soon and we'll if anything needs to happen medically before trying to have a baby again.
8. Did they try to give you anything to stop your labor?
   No. When I arrived at the hospital I was already dilated to a 10 and my water was on the verge of breaking. Unfortunately there was nothing they could do but prep for a 23-week old baby to be delivered. Though in the delivery room - I might have referenced Grey's Anatomy telling them how to stop my labor.
9. Do you think you'll ever get over this?
   No. Absolutely not. I hope to eventually get to the point where I don't cry every day and that I can speak to people about our experience without choking up but I will never get over losing my baby.
10. Could this happen again?
    Possibly. Until we know if there are other causes - we don't know what our risks are.
11. How is Fred?
    Fred is strong. He's had a really hard time, but silently. Recently, we bought him a dirt bike - and though some don't approve of such a large purchase at a time when we're in the unknown - its made a world of difference. Getting on a dirt bike and escaping is a way for him to cope and feel happiness. The smile its put back on his face is worth every. single. dime.
12. What are you doing to cope?
    I'm staying busy. When I'm busy I don't have time to dwell on the fact that I should be as big as a house right now. I should be whining about my swollen ankles, inability to sleep, or the fact that my feet have disappeared. Busy is good.

Hopefully I covered all the questions - at least the most commonly asked ones.

Thank you for reading, for caring, for commenting, and for helping me heal through this here blog. Hopefully our experiences have or will help you or someone you know

A Blur

Tuesday
When we got to St. Joseph's, we found our little boy and didn't leave his side. The mood around Freddie was extremely positive. We kept hearing things like "it'll be a long, tough road but he'll make it - and so will you" and "Take pictures every day because when you take him home you'll be amazed at where this little man started".

We were overwhelmed and worried but felt nothing but optimism.

Freddie was extremely active when we were with him. He was punching and kicking non-stop - movements I recognized. Movements that I should have been feeling...not seeing. He had these huge feet and extra long skinny fingers.

The nurses were incredibly supportive. The staff took us into a parent room and told us it was ours for the night. We sat in there trying to gain some footing as to what the next four months of our lives would be like.

We sat on the bed in complete and utter exhaustion. We had someone from the March of Dimes come talk to us and left us with even more hope about how great our little man was and how we would fight this battle until we took home our baby boy.

At around 11pm, my parents walked through the door. We took them back to meet little Freddie, at about 1am it was decided that there was no way I was going to get any sleep in that room and it was best just to drive the 40 minutes home.

Wednesday
The next morning, we woke up tried to take care of a little business like making sure my work projects were handed off, that little Freddie was listed on our insurance, and that Fred was covered with school and work. Fred's mom called to say they were leaving soon and would be there the following afternoon.

We packed up some snacks, clothes, and journals to head right back out to the hospital.

Freddie had had a rough night but we still felt like there was nothing to be worried about. He was critical but stable. He needed help to breathe but didn't need much oxygen. His blood pressure was really low so every time they took blood for tests they had to give him a transfusion (approx. 6 cc's) and he needed the assistance of 3 different blood pressure meds. He was being pumped with all sorts of medications that he looked pink, healthy, and plump.

Because of his traumatic birth experience, he was extremely bruised and battered so he was under the billirubin lights to decrease his bruising.

We took all of this in stride because again, there was this optimism surrounding him from us, his doctors, and his nurses.

We met with a social worker as well. We were told that we may qualify for the Ronald McDonald House and be able to spend some time there instead of commuting the 40 minutes each way - every day. Our social worker was nice, but cold. She was very matter-of-fact, to the point, and lacked any degree of compassion. When we first met her, she approached us in a way that was like "well? what do you need me for?" to which our answer would have been "um. we have no idea. We've never done this before - what do we need to be doing?"

Her gold star moment was that she was able to get us a room at the extended stay hotel (directly behind the hospital) for a week from a private donor. After the week expired, she would see about renewing it or look into the Ronald McDonald House. We would have to spend the night at home again but then we would have the room starting the next day. This was a huge relief as driving back and forth to our house was going to get expensive and time consuming. Not to mention that if something went wrong during a time we weren't there, it would take us at least 40 minutes to get to the hospital.

We sat next to him pretty much the rest of the day - taking turns only to rotate the 2 allowed back there. We left the hospital only to eat dinner and then to finally head home at the end of the night.