|A double rainbow with my rainbow baby beneath. I'm choosing to see this as a good sign.|
We have a lot going on over the past two weeks, much of it wonderful. We celebrated Christmas (it's difficult to believe that was just two weeks ago), B's birthday, and the New Year, we packed up our house and moved out, moved our cat to my parent's, and left the mainland for Hawaii. In the midst of all of the good, there is the anxiety that comes with early pregnancy and all of the thoughts that are always in the back of my mind but are front of mind this time of year on the anniversary of Q's death and the day I gave birth to her (Was she "born"? What is the the right word?). I thought constantly about Q over the past few weeks and reflected a lot on everything that has happened since December 2013. We didn't have the opportunity to do anything in particular to memorialize the day other than to light a candle and talk about her and what happened (and to think about how lucky we are to have B), but I feel the heaviness of the season even here in Hawaii.
"The Japanese Art of Grieving a Miscarriage" appeared in the NY Times this week and I love that the culture embraces and encourages publicly honoring babies who are never born. I'm going to keep my eyes open for a Jizo when we are in Japan and try to bring one home to honor both Q and the little baby we lost this spring. There is something so comforting about an object -- when Q died, the hospital gave us a box and inside was a tiny bear. It isn't anything special, but I have slept with it every night since we left the hospital.
I've been particularly upset this week about some favorite bloggers (who I do not know personally) who just lost their son who was born prematurely. Their grief and sadness and loss is so palpable in the photos and how courageous of them to share something so personal. For whatever reason -- this time of year, being pregnant and emotional, or just the fact that their situation is heartbreaking -- I find what they are going through so upsetting and I wish I could reach out to them. I have no idea what I'd say, but I just want them to know they aren't alone.
All of this just serves to remind me that, three years out from losing Q, I still acutely feel her absence and it is front of mind, more so in December and January than is typical. And even in the midst of an exciting adventure and the possibility of another life, I'm grieving. Still.
I did find an OB in Kauai and have an appointment at the end of the month. They have no perinatologist or MFM on the island and they don't do "level 2" ultrasounds as they called it (e.g., the 12-week anatomy scan) so I'm going around 10 weeks for another ultrasound and the Progenity chromosomal test. If I need additional monitoring or testing, we'll spend a night on Oahu before we head to Sydney. At this stage with Baby B, I had weekly ultrasounds (for my peace of mind). I'm trying my best to be Zen about this -- what will be, will be.