Madison

I have been waiting to share this story on a day when I needed it most. 

Like many moms I joined a babycenter birth board when I found out we would be expecting in June. I was mostly silent, this was my third baby and things progressed how I expected them to. I read it a few times here and there but didn't make my presence known. 

On May 20 I got my daily email at 8pm about all the topics being talked about. The birth announcement thread was beginning to take off as babies don't stick to time lines. You are allowed to post birth announcements there, even in stillbirth. I posted a photo of the daughter I loved so much, she had just left my arms for the last time. I wanted the world to know she was here. She was just here, and now she was gone. 

"We lost our sweet baby girl Anna today. I hadn't felt movement and drove myself to the ER. By the time I got there, I passed out in L&D, and almost died by minutes of making it there. Im currently stable but high risk. And poor Anna didn't make it. Im trying to wrap my head around how this happened. We just celebrated her baby shower yesterday. I think Im still in shock. She was so loved. And we never got to say hello."

I don't remember writing these words. Much like when I go back to re-read telling close friends and family. My mind has placed scars over some experiences, and though you can feel them, you don't remember them. These words I wrote, I can see the pain in writing them. So in shock and somehow needing the world to know them. I felt compelled that night to write just a piece of Anna in that place. A tribute and a warning in one. 

On June 11 I received a message on instagram, from a stranger, on baby center. 

"Dearest Alissa
I came from the June board on babycenter. I just want to express my deepest sympathy. I struggle to find the words to express something that is too horrible for words. Im so sorry, I'm just so so sorry for your immeasurable loss. I have been thinking of you every day since I saw your birth announcement on May 21"

I replied, "Don't take  a single moment for granted. I wish so much I could be up all night with her crying. Treasure it all." Those were the darkest days for me. The shock wearing off. And seeing everyone around me continue to be blessed with healthy arrivals. I was not bitter or angry about it, I had twice been that person who is blissfully unaware of the heartache of child birth. Not knowing that for ever 99 babies who comes home, there is one family that leaves the hospital with empty arms and an even emptier heart. 

I did not expect a reply, my response had been so bleak and cold. Whispers of regret filled what I thought was a message of knowing child loss and realizing how precious those first hard days are. Instead another message came up. 

"I promise you that not a moment goes by where I am anything other than grateful. I saw your comment on the birth announcement thread and a few hours later, noticed that my own sweet girl was not moving. I hesitated for a moment about going in, wondering if I was overthinking, but I thought back to seeing your post that morning while in the bath -(This is the same thing that made me notice Anna not moving) And decided to go in. Your comment on that thread likely saved my baby's life. Madison came quietly into the world on May 21, not breathing, with a true cord wrapped tightly around her tiny little body. I lay in the OR praying and praying while they worked on her. The silence was deafening. She was in the NICU for 10 days due to complications. As a result of her dramatic entrance into the world. But she is home with us now. I have thought of you and Anna consistently and shed tears for you. Thank you for sharing your story on baby center. And continuing to share it here. I will pray for strength for you as you attempt to heal from this unfair blow, while still being a mother to both your boys, and a wife to Brandon."

I was sent back to moments of shock. Here was this baby thousands of miles away, I will never meet. And my story, Anna's story, saved her life. The blood drive is honoring the idea of saving lives, but here is an actual account of one child's loss being another child's first breath. I can't explain the comfort I find in that. But it is immense. I was brought to tears. Both happy and sad. That I have to live this life, and feel her absence every minute of every day, but also for happiness that in such a short amount of time, Anna's life, or lack there of, has changed SO many people's lives. There has been so many stories shared with us over the last month. Each one touching a unique space in my heart. A single stitch as it tries to mend itself. 

On dark days, like this weekend, as we continue to creep forward to a date I once loved, and now dread. I like to remind myself of these stories. Of all the people Anna is saving. She is a genuine guardian angel. Seeking to repair the world. Ours is shattered as we miss her beyond words. But around us, people hear her name, filled with so much love, that it is actually changing the world for the better. 

Madison will follow the exact life milestones that I would have had with Anna, born hours apart. Never to meet in this lifetime. A reminder of what could have been. That seems like something that should hurt my broken heart. But instead, I know, she is here living those milestones, because Anna could not. Instead of two mothers bonding over the same loss, there is one that is spared that grief. I have one guardian angel watching over me. And I have one life here on earth to count as hers. 

Thank you Dana for not remaining silent. Telling me you didn't have the words to take away my pain. But giving me a gift in sharing your own daughters life. And letting me share this story when I need it most, to forever remind me that even in my worst days, there was still overwhelming goodness in the world. Because of Anna. 

with love, lissa

GIVE LOVE FOR ANNA

We were still sitting in shock in the hospital. It was the first 24 hours. Nothing made sense, it still doesn't. We were asked to make the choices that no parent wants to make. Cremation or burial. Which funeral home. When would you like to see her, and when can we take her away. For the last time. There is literally not words to describe that experience. It is otherworldly. Like you are out of your body watching your worst nightmare unfold. And that doesn't even come close to it. 

She didn't even have a name when she was born. I was told I had time still. I had 4 weeks, lots of time to decide. Until I had minutes to decide what to write on a death certificate. Naming a baby is one of the best parts of finding out you are pregnant. And here we were only choosing her name, to lose it immediately. 

As we sat in that roomI became more and more unsure of life. What it was suddenly didn't, and will never make sense. I am living the unimaginable. Someone asked us about a memorial service, and I knew I didn't want to do that. To bring people together in sadness, for this life that never got to live. No one but us got to hold and see her precious face. See how much she reminded us of her siblings. the memories are both razor sharp and already fading at the same time. It's not fair, I cling to the memories of my worst day. 

I knew immediately that the only service I wanted to hold in her honor was a blood drive. They were still giving me transfusions at that time. My body trying to recover as much as my mind. I had lost a life that day, I had almost lost mine as well. In a time and age where we take childbirth for granted, a staggering amount of babies and mothers still die. I am half that statistic, I could have easily been both. A 120 second difference would have made me both. I would have died without blood donations already at the hospital waiting. I needed 8 transfusions, plasma, and platelets. I couldn't stop bleeding and entered DIC, a rare and often fatal blood clotting condition, as I arrived at L&D. Had I had to wait for an elevator, I could have died inside it. I had so many needles and transfusions in me within a min of falling to the ground. What happened to save my life is nothing short of miracles, and AMAZING nurses & doctors. Blood donors are a part of that. 

Just a week before this happened I posted about blood donation and thanking the miracles of medicine in discovering the RH- shot in someone's unique blood. I wrote the words "You never know when someone you love, will need it." That someone was me. 

Much like the outpouring of love we have felt after this loss, overwhelmingly, people have already joined our cause. We picked a hashtag to use on social media so we could see the stories and the reach of Anna's support & love. I posted about it on June 1 and people began donating the next day. The more it was talked about, the more it spread. I didn't think we would have enough pledges to fill the blood drive bus, but instead we have had to turn people away. A friend pleaded our case on a base in Germany, and 33 people joined her at the Armed Services Blood Bank. I get almost daily pictures of donations, stretching around the world. So far 4 countries, countless states and provinces. The world is small in comparison to love.  Each donation with a story about how much Anna has touched their life, each one a way that Anna brings more love into the world. 

As of today, plus the pledges for the bus, we have 88 donors. Each donation saves 3 lives. That adds up to 264 people that won't have to live the pain we are in. That don't get told the worst words anyone will ever hear, "Im sorry, we couldn't save them." I cannot donate myself for the next 12 months, having had a transfusion makes you ineligible, your body still needs to recover for that long. So I could not do this without YOU.

264 lives, and counting. Tuesday will be my personal hell. Living out the day I should have been handed my baby, instead we are having her memorial. Her Birthday celebrates her Death day. But we planned this blood drive on purpose. Bringing healing to our hearts, and healing literally to the world. I know so many people are committing to walking us through that day. In donation, in support, in love. 

Thank you for making it more than I thought possible. Thank you for continuing to support us in this journey in every way. Reading these words, providing us meals, dropping by for visits, sending thoughtful gifts, reaching out to say you care, and by making a blood donation in Anna's name. 

There will never be full healing. But this is a good place to start. 

With love, lissa