With Shecklet #2’s right arm in a cast, he has needed a scribe for some of his homework. Tonight I helped him with science and geometry. I’ve enjoyed helping with both. It’s been fun to see how much I remember from taking those classes many moons ago.
We ordered Astrid’s grave marker today. My list of things I never thought I’d have to do keeps growing.
The granite we selected comes from South Dakota. I have extended family who live there and were a great support to me during my pregnancy and after Astrid’s death. Jake and I like the extra special connection that Astrid’s marker will have because of where the granite is from.
Buckle fracture in Shecklet #2’s wrist was confirmed by the orthopedic doctor this morning. It’s the first broken bone any of the kids have had. 14 years is a pretty good run, I’d say!
The doctor gave #2 the option of a removable wrist brace or a cast. #2 chose a green cast. (I think that was a smart decision being that he’s such an active kid.) The cast matches the shirt he chose to wear today 😂
We took the Shecklets mountain biking at a state park near Crosby. We met Jake’s uncle there and split into two groups. Jake and his uncle rode with the three older Shecklets and I rode with Shecklet #4. After about two hours or riding, we headed to the skills park. They had a mini course for younger or newer riders and a more advanced one with different levels of skills, similar to what you’d find when you go skiing.
A short time later, our fun came to a stop and we had to detour to the ER. Shecklet #2 attempted a drop off, and he’ll tell you he “landed wrong.” Thankfully, Jake was with him and helped him get down off the course to where Helena and I were at. It didn’t take long to realize an emergency room visit was necessary – #2 couldn’t move his wrist, it was swelling, and he had a substantial gash on his elbow.
After cleaning out his wound (the area was numbed and he was given IV pain meds) they put his arm in a splint – including his elbow. We were told to have the wound looked at on Monday (Labor Day) and re-splinted until we could see an orthopedic doctor later in the week
My aunt and uncle sent us an electronic DQ gift card while were in the ER, which was a sweet surprise and delicious treat after such an eventful day.
When I told a friend we were heading into the unknown today (back to school) she replied with the song from Frozen 2 ❄️.
I took the Shecklets to the back to school supply pick up this afternoon. It was strange to be welcomed by teachers in masks and face shields but good to see familiar faces (at least part of their faces 😷.)
This year is going to be one like no other. We’re all going to need a lot of patience and grace. Hopefully that combination along with some determination and flexibility, (and a lot of prayer!) we’ll make it through.
Our back to school pictures were very unique this year. It’s also the final year of all four Shecklets attending the same school. It’s hard to believe it is Shecklet #1’s last first day at DVA! 🧨
I had my first session with a therapist who specializes in pregnancy loss/stillbirth as well as ART therapy (Accelerated Resolution Therapy.) I sat in my car afterwards and made some notes about how I thought the session went, what I thought and felt, and what I want to bring up next time. I plan to try the ART therapy in hopes of it helping me heal from the trauma I’ve experienced.
It’s difficult for me to call my experiences “traumatic,” but I guess when you talk about an emergency ambulance birth (2013,) brain tumor diagnosis (2017,) brain surgery and recovery (2018,) and a stillbirth (2020,) I think the argument can definitely be made for calling those events traumatic. Being that I’m the one who went through those things and I don’t know any different, I think I have coped by telling myself just that – I don’t know life to be any other way than what I experienced, so I just have to keep pressing on. But pressing on after the death of your child is different than pressing on after major surgery. Yes, surgery changed me in many ways, but the things I lost, (hearing, sense of taste, energy level) are things my body has adapted to. The death of my daughter is completely different. She was alive and now she’s not. Yes, my body has physically recovered (mostly) from carrying her for 25 weeks, but my heart is broken. I know I will never be the same person I was prior to my pregnancy. I’ve changed with each one of my kids’ births. But to not have the reason that I am different with me here on earth is hard. It’s not how it “should” be.
I should be pregnant right now.
Astrid was so wanted.
My heart aches knowing that I was only able to hold her body. I never got to hear her cry, see the color of her eyes, or find out if she would have wavy or straight hair. I won’t be part of all of her “first year” experiences. Chances are we won’t have another baby. It’s is difficult knowing that this is how my child-bearing years have ended.
A few years ago we felt as though we were in a good place, meaning we didn’t feel God putting the desire in our hearts to have another baby. When we got pregnant last December, it was a shock and also hard. Starting over at the baby stage sounded overwhelming – especially since we had recently been looking at high school options for Shecklet #1. I questioned how we would balance teenagers and a baby. But as He can always do, God worked on my heart and it didn’t take very long for me to soften up to the idea of starting over. I knew I would have plenty of “help” this time, which would be nice. Those feelings of peace were short-lived. The majority of my pregnancy was spent just focusing on each day – which I suppose is actually a good way to live, but it was also extremely stressful in that I never knew when Astrid’s last day alive within me would be.
She has been gone for 2 months. (Hearing the words, “no heartbeat,” took place two months ago today.) I know for her, that’s not even a blink of an eye, but as her mom, it’s the beginning of a journey I would rather not be on.
I never would have anticipated the Shecklets finishing out the school year at home, but that’s exactly what happened.
I think they grew a little since the first day of school.
What follows was written during our hospital stay. I fluctuate between past and present tense and have chosen to leave it as such since it gives a more realistic feel for how I was feeling when I was writing.
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My in-laws arrived just before 7AM to stay with the kids while Jake and I went to the hospital for my induction. We checked in to Mercy Hospital around 7:30AM. Nurse Ka got us situated, I changed into my gown and blue grippy socks and then answered a bunch of admitting questions. I met Dr. Ayika, who explained the induction process (which was new to me) and said that a “normal” delivery should still be ok even though the baby is breech.
We ordered breakfast, and after eating, my induction was started.
9:50AM. I expect a long, slow ramp-up over the next 24 hours. I plan to request an epidural once the pain is gets too intense. This whole experience is emotionally painful enough. I’m glad there is the option to ease some of the physical pain. Jake is resting, which is much deserved. He has been “on call” for me and the kids for almost this entire pregnancy in a more intense way. I am glad he has an opportunity to sleep if he needs to or be alone with his thoughts. His presence beside me is comforting. I know he wants to “do” something, but him being here is doing just that for me.
Our friends, Melissa & Tom, brought us some lighter conversation via our texting group thread. They are two of several people who have continued to check in with us, pray for us, and offer support as we’ve needed it. They plan to be at the cemetery on Thursday along with Michelle and Rita (who may just “happen to be at the cemetery” visiting her dad <3. )
We had lunch around 2PM (Jake said he likes the hospital food) and then closer to 3:30, Ka came in to introduce my next nurse, Amber. She’ll be on until 11:30PM. I was given another dose (increased) of the induction med and they monitored me for a while to make sure contractions were progressing.
*side note – Amber’s BIL had an AN. It always surprises me when I meet someone who knows about the tumor I had.
4:45PM. We’re resting again and I plan to order dinner around 5PM. Contractions are still manageable , so I don’t feel the need to request the epidural yet. Going to pray a Chaplet of Divine Mercy in thanksgiving for the overall peace that I feel right now in this moment. I know emotions will change – likely rollercoaster, but right now I’m so grateful for peace.
Dinner came, we ate and then rested again. While I was laying down, I started feeling nauseous. I ended up getting sick – felt somewhat better afterwards. Amber, my nurse, gave me a med to help with the other stomach issue I was having and got my IV started in advance of my epidural. (Prior to that, Dr. Ayika checked and I was dilated to 1cm.)
Between when I was checked and when the anesthesiologist started to prep for my epidural, my contractions really started to ramp up – in intensity and frequency. Jake sat in front of me as I bent forward so the epidural could be placed. I breathed through numerous contractions (while wearing a cloth mask!) Once it was finally in, it took a long time for it to take effect. (Longer than any epidurals I’ve had in the past.) The contractions were strong and painful and numerous – nothing like I remember feeling with my other labors. I laid on my side, breathing and begging for the meds to kick in. They gave me a dose of fentanyl to try to ease things a little – they did, slightly, in addition to making me tired and spacey. During one of the strong contractions, my water broke. Thanks to the meds, I may or may not have said, “Oh shit, my water just broke!” and then apologized for swearing. It was a relief at first, but then the contractions intensified again. I told Amber that I felt ready to push, so she checked me and said she was going to call Dr. Ayika so I could deliver.
Dr. Ayika and Amber got me situated and within 6 or so pushes I delivered (breech) our sweet little girl at 9:21PM. We named her Astrid Philomena Sheck. She was 12 incues long and 3lbs. 7oz. They laid her on my chest as Dr. Ayika delivered the placenta. (Every time I lost fluid, I thought that had to be it…but then there was more. I am amazed at how much I had retained. It explains why I was measuring four weeks ahead at my last appointment with my midwife a little over a week ago.)
After Jake and I held Astrid, Amber and Laurenda (my overnight nurse) took her to take some pictures in another room. We obviously have the ones from immediately after birth, but the nurses took such sweet care to put her in a party dress, hat, diaper, and blanket. She looked like she was sleeping peacefully in the bassinette. They gave us an SD card with the photos that we will look at at home.
We spent the next several hours with Astrid’s body – blessed her, said bedtime prayers with her, and told her how we look forward to seeing her again one day in heaven. That hope – eternal life in heaven – is what we can cling to.
We said goodbye to her body at 2:08AM.
Sunday morning 5/17. Both of us slept hard. We’re exhausted – emotionally and physically. The texts and emails we have received since announcing Astrid’s delivery have been full of love, prayers, and support.
I cannot believe what we have just experienced. It feels like a dream. And yet, when I look down at my belly, I know it wasn’t. I am so sad. I miss my little girl.
I stopped at Caribou after having my COVID test this morning. The person in front of my paid for my drink. I had to pull into a parking space because I was so overwhelmed by emotion and shocked that of all the days that this could happen, today is when it did. (It’s never happened to me before.) I wish I could have told the person who treated me how much their kind gesture meant to me.
The OB I saw yesterday contacted the hospital medical director and strongly suggested there be an exception for me should my COVID test result not be back by Saturday morning. He called this afternoon and assured me that I would be admitted regardless of whether the result has been returned. I’m grateful for his persistence. I now have one less thing to be anxious about.
We survived our first week of e-learning. The Shecklets eased in to things – technology, managing time to complete choice board assignments, corresponding with teachers via video chat, email, and messaging – and seemed to enjoy what they were doing. I think they all agree they miss “real” school, but they are doing their best to make the most of a unique situation.
I’m really proud of how they have handled the last three weeks at home. They have hardly left the house but have taken advantage of the few nice days we’ve had to bike, rollerblade, scooter, and use the driveway as their canvas for chalk drawings. (Last night’s downpours cleared things off, so they’ll have clean concrete once the temps warm up again.
This introvert is starting to feel the effects of being “forced” to stay at home. It’s one thing to choose to stay home but know that you could go out, see people, run errands, etc. if you wanted to. It’s an entirely different feeling to know you should not do those things and therefore are staying home. I’m not sure it’s something I will get used to.