It's been four months and four days since we held our precious Isaac and said good-bye. Four months and four days since the doctor told us that they could keep re-intubating, but it wouldn't work. Four months and four days since we made the decision told them to stop, to just let us hold him. Four months and four days from the worst and most painful day of my life...and every single day since I remember. My arms ache with emptiness, longing to feel the weight of my sweet baby boy. My heart is broken, shattered, and while at times it seems like the pieces are slowly coming back together, it's fragile and so easily falls to pieces again.
Most days I can get by, I hurt, but I can keep going. There are some days though when I feel completely raw, like today. It's like the band-aid that has been holding my heart together has been ripped off and I've scraped it against something, pulling off the scab and leaving the wound open and bleeding again.
I miss him. I miss him with all of my heart. I miss the way his tiny little fingers would grip onto mine, so small they couldn't even wrap around my finger. I miss the way he would try to suck his thumb, even though the breathing tube and feeding tube were in the way. I miss the way his ears would get folded over from how he was laying, and how resistant they were, folding back over as soon as I tried to fix them. His hands were always up by his face, and he had one finger that he loved to have sticking up and pressing against his cheek (we joked that he was going to give himself a dimple). He was feisty- you couldn't change his diaper without having to fight to keep his kicking feet out of the dirty one. Adam likes to remind me how often Isaac would wait for me to put a clean diaper under him and then start pooping again...sometimes multiple times in one changing. I miss the crazy amount of curly dark hair that he had, despite being born so early, and the way it would stick up funny in places, especially when I tried to smooth it down. I miss seeing his tiny little eyes open and look around, always closing quickly when he realized my camera was out. I miss his little personality and how you could tell so easily by his facial expressions when he was upset. He had daddy days, where only daddy could touch him and talk to him, and if mom tried, he would get upset, and he had mommy days too, when I was the only one who could touch him. I miss how, sometimes, if he was upset in the morning before we would get to the hospital, he would calm down a little once we started talking to him. I miss reading to him and telling him all about our lives. Most of all though, I miss just sitting beside him, watching him and loving him, planning for his future, and knowing that he is my son.
My heart aches for the days that I will never get to have. I only got to hold him once other than the day that he died, and it was only for a couple minutes. I long to hold him, to feed him and change his diapers. I want to be that exhausted and weary momma who finds joy in her baby, despite the to do list that never gets done and the lack of sleep from being up with him through out the night. I want to watch as he learns to hold his head up and roll over, as he tries to crawl, and eventually starts taking his first steps. I want to see him learn to play and be friends with his cousin, Everett. I want to hold his hand and walk him to his classroom on his first day of school, making sure that he knows I love him and will be right there waiting for him when the day is over. I want to see him develop interest- sports, music, reading, drama, art...anything he wants! I want to struggle to figure out his math homework so that I can help him (who am I kidding...math is Adam's job, my help would probably do more harm than good). I want to watch him grow from a little boy into a teenager and then into a loving man of God, like his daddy. I want to see him graduate from high school and help him move into his college dorm room. I want to watch my son grow up, but I don't get to do that.
I hurt so much, and I while a part of me want to rely on God, wants to trust and hope in Him, a part of me is still frustrated and angry with Him too. I don't understand why He took Isaac away, and a part of me never wants to because I feel like if I do understand why, if I do see good come from losing him, it will seem as if it's okay that he's gone, and to me, it will never be okay. No reason will ever be good enough for losing him. At times I wonder if God took Isaac because He knew that my love for my son is greater than my love for Him. I find myself doubting His goodness and wondering if He'll keep me from ever having kids because He knows how important it is to me to have a family and He wants me to love Him more than I would them. I don't want to think that way because then my view of God is so wrong, it makes Him seem cruel, vengeful, and selfish, not like the God who has pulled me out of some really rough spots and completely turned my life around. I know that He is jealous for me, for my heart, but not in a way that He would take away my son because of it. I find myself constantly hitting this wall- I want to serve the Lord, I want to run to Him with my heartache, but I can't because I'm angry and bitter, and I feel betrayed by Him, and I don't know how to change that. I find that my constant prayer is, "Father, You know my heart. You know that I want to turn to You, but that at the same time, I don't want to. You know that I'm afraid running to You would make it feel like losing Isaac is okay. You know that I'm bitter and angry towards You. You know that I'm afraid to change my heart, and that I'm not sure I even know how. If my heart is going to change, if the bitterness is going to stop, I need You to change it for me because I'm scared to, and because I'm selfish and want to harbor my anger against You in retaliation. I'm afraid to change because I'm afraid You'll let me be hurt again."
I feel empty, and I know that only God can heal my brokenness, but it is so hard to let Him in right now.
Thursday, October 10, 2013
Friday, August 30, 2013
Let the Healing Begin
The day that Isaac was born, people were expecting a phone call saying that there was a new baby in the family...they just didn't expect it to be Isaac. Adam's sister, Jenn, was also pregnant with her first baby and was due in early June. I think all of us were expecting Jenn to go into labor a bit early, so, when phone calls were made on the evening of May 18th, things seemed a bit mixed up. Knowing that I was going to have a little nephew at pretty much anytime, I got nervous. I love my son with all my heart, and it hurt so much to not be able to hold him, or help him in anyway. I was excited for baby Everett to make his entrance into the world, but I was worried that knowing that he was healthy and that Jenn and Dylan could hold him and take him home would be really hard for me and would make me jealous. Thankfully, my sister-in-law and brother-in-law are awesome and when I sent Jenn a message (I would have preferred to call her, but that would have meant having to leave the NICU), they were very understanding and we were able to have some really encouraging conversation about where my heart was. I'm glad I sent that message when I did because the next day, sweet Everett was born; healthy and happy. It was hard on me. While I was happy for Jenn and Dylan, I resented that they could hold and take care of and play with Everett, and that they didn't have the concern and worry that were a constant for Adam and I as we spent our days by Isaac's side. I spent a few days not wanting to hear any updates about how they were doing, and when pictures would pop up on my facebook, I quickly removed them from my newsfeed. I felt awful for having that reaction, but it hurt too much knowing that other people had healthy, closer to term babies than our sweet son, who was fighting for his life on a regular basis. It didn't seem fair to me, and I held on to a lot of frustration and anger that we were in such a difficult and emotionally challenging situation. I wouldn't trade a single second of the time that I had with my precious son, and I love him more than I ever realized was possible, but I so desperately wanted him to still be growing inside of me. I wanted to wake up and realize that it had all been a dream, that I was still pregnant and looking forward to Isaac's due date of September 8th.
Then June 6th happened. Our sweet Isaac couldn't fight the infection anymore and he passed away. There are no words to describe the pain and heartache that go with losing your child. To be honest, I didn't want life to go on. I wanted everything to end, like my son's time with us had. However, life does keep going, but with the loss and brokenness always on your mind and in your heart. It didn't take much to bring the pain to the surface (sometimes it still doesn't), and unfortunately, babies and young children were a huge reminder of the precious little boy that we lost. For weeks, I avoided being around kids. Anytime friends posted pictures of their kids on facebook, I took them off my newsfeed. It was just too hard to see a child and wonder what our son would look like at that age, and what he would enjoy doing...and it broke my heart a little more every time.
My avoidance of children also included our nephew. Actually, it especially included Everett. They were so close in age, and I had envisioned two little cousins growing up together. They would have started kindergarten at the same time, become teenagers just ten days apart, graduated high school the same year... At that time, in my mind, Everett represented all the days that I would never have with Isaac, and all the memories that I would never get to make. I was terrified of meeting Everett, afraid that I wouldn't like him because he was alive and Isaac wasn't. I hated feeling that way! This was my precious baby nephew, whom I had been so excited to meet and love, and I wanted nothing to do with him. I was angry at myself for feeling that way, but I didn't know how to change it and continued to do everything I could to not be around him. I was successful in that until Adam's parents asked us to have a family dinner with them, Jenn, Dylan, and Everett before Adam and I left for vacation. I didn't want to. To be honest, I still was having a hard time being around anyone, so family dinner just sounded like a really bad idea to me, especially since Everett would be there. I didn't want to have family dinner, but I also felt like I didn't have a choice. We had turned down multiple invitations from Adam's parents and I felt like saying 'no' to dinner would make it seem like we were avoiding them. So, though Adam and I both were nervous and kind of even dreading going to dinner, we said that we would. I called Jenn a few days beforehand and told her how nervous I was about the dinner, and it was another really great and encouraging conversation. She told me that while Everett would be there, they would make sure that no one talked about him unless Adam or I asked.
When the night of the dinner came around, I again did not want to go. I did not want to meet Everett (he was over a month old and we still hadn't even met him!), and I was worried that just knowing he was there was going to be really hard. Initially, things started out a little tense (for me anyway, I don't know about anyone else). Over time though, I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. I slowly let myself wonder about Everett and would even look at him on occasion. The kid is cute, and so sweet! Before the night was over, Adam and I had both even held him for a little while. I fell in love with my adorable nephew that night and stopped trying to actively avoid being around kids all the time. Granted, there were still some days that I knew I was struggling and that I couldn't handle being around children, so on those days, I tried to stay away; it wasn't a constant though. I stopped hiding the pictures that would show up on facebook, and even started enjoying seeing some of them (my friends and family have cute kids!).
Due to a couple different family events and the fact that Adam and I go to the same church as Jenn and Dylan, I've seen Everett quite a bit the past couple weeks, and every time, I've wanted to hold him and play with him (the fact that he seems to get cuter every day may be a part of that too). At church on Sunday, I was holding him while we were singing and I didn't want to give him back to Jenn before the sermon started. As I held him and watched him sleep in my arms, I realized that while being around Everett does make me think of Isaac even more (that seems impossible because I never stop thinking about him), I no longer see him as everything I won't have with my son. I see him as my precious nephew, and I love him so much. In a way, he's a comfort to me now. It's hard to explain, but when I'm holding him, I see how innocent he is and it reminds me that there is still beauty and hope and good in my life. Everett is helping me to heal, and he doesn't even know it. No, I won't get to watch Isaac grow up, and I will always miss him and be sad that he isn't here with us, but I do get to watch sweet Everett grow up, and I want him to grow up knowing that I love him.
Then June 6th happened. Our sweet Isaac couldn't fight the infection anymore and he passed away. There are no words to describe the pain and heartache that go with losing your child. To be honest, I didn't want life to go on. I wanted everything to end, like my son's time with us had. However, life does keep going, but with the loss and brokenness always on your mind and in your heart. It didn't take much to bring the pain to the surface (sometimes it still doesn't), and unfortunately, babies and young children were a huge reminder of the precious little boy that we lost. For weeks, I avoided being around kids. Anytime friends posted pictures of their kids on facebook, I took them off my newsfeed. It was just too hard to see a child and wonder what our son would look like at that age, and what he would enjoy doing...and it broke my heart a little more every time.
My avoidance of children also included our nephew. Actually, it especially included Everett. They were so close in age, and I had envisioned two little cousins growing up together. They would have started kindergarten at the same time, become teenagers just ten days apart, graduated high school the same year... At that time, in my mind, Everett represented all the days that I would never have with Isaac, and all the memories that I would never get to make. I was terrified of meeting Everett, afraid that I wouldn't like him because he was alive and Isaac wasn't. I hated feeling that way! This was my precious baby nephew, whom I had been so excited to meet and love, and I wanted nothing to do with him. I was angry at myself for feeling that way, but I didn't know how to change it and continued to do everything I could to not be around him. I was successful in that until Adam's parents asked us to have a family dinner with them, Jenn, Dylan, and Everett before Adam and I left for vacation. I didn't want to. To be honest, I still was having a hard time being around anyone, so family dinner just sounded like a really bad idea to me, especially since Everett would be there. I didn't want to have family dinner, but I also felt like I didn't have a choice. We had turned down multiple invitations from Adam's parents and I felt like saying 'no' to dinner would make it seem like we were avoiding them. So, though Adam and I both were nervous and kind of even dreading going to dinner, we said that we would. I called Jenn a few days beforehand and told her how nervous I was about the dinner, and it was another really great and encouraging conversation. She told me that while Everett would be there, they would make sure that no one talked about him unless Adam or I asked.
When the night of the dinner came around, I again did not want to go. I did not want to meet Everett (he was over a month old and we still hadn't even met him!), and I was worried that just knowing he was there was going to be really hard. Initially, things started out a little tense (for me anyway, I don't know about anyone else). Over time though, I started to realize that maybe, just maybe, everything would be okay. I slowly let myself wonder about Everett and would even look at him on occasion. The kid is cute, and so sweet! Before the night was over, Adam and I had both even held him for a little while. I fell in love with my adorable nephew that night and stopped trying to actively avoid being around kids all the time. Granted, there were still some days that I knew I was struggling and that I couldn't handle being around children, so on those days, I tried to stay away; it wasn't a constant though. I stopped hiding the pictures that would show up on facebook, and even started enjoying seeing some of them (my friends and family have cute kids!).
Due to a couple different family events and the fact that Adam and I go to the same church as Jenn and Dylan, I've seen Everett quite a bit the past couple weeks, and every time, I've wanted to hold him and play with him (the fact that he seems to get cuter every day may be a part of that too). At church on Sunday, I was holding him while we were singing and I didn't want to give him back to Jenn before the sermon started. As I held him and watched him sleep in my arms, I realized that while being around Everett does make me think of Isaac even more (that seems impossible because I never stop thinking about him), I no longer see him as everything I won't have with my son. I see him as my precious nephew, and I love him so much. In a way, he's a comfort to me now. It's hard to explain, but when I'm holding him, I see how innocent he is and it reminds me that there is still beauty and hope and good in my life. Everett is helping me to heal, and he doesn't even know it. No, I won't get to watch Isaac grow up, and I will always miss him and be sad that he isn't here with us, but I do get to watch sweet Everett grow up, and I want him to grow up knowing that I love him.
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| My sweet nephew, Everett. Jenn and Dylan found this onesie shortly before our "Adam Beat Cancer" party and decided that Everett needed it :-) |
Monday, August 19, 2013
Blogging
There are good days, there are bad days, and there are days
that have a little bit of both.
Yesterday would have been Isaac’s three month birthday, and it went a
LOT better than I expected it to. It
actually was a really good day, good enough that I was even able to enjoy
holding and cuddling our sweet nephew. I
did break down and shed a few tears last night, but over all, I handled the day
so much better than I thought I would, and I am thankful for that.
Today has been a good day, but tonight, sitting at home by
myself while Adam is in Cincinnati for an intro to the online class he’s taking
this semester, I’m starting to struggle.
I’ve always been someone who needs some time to myself, but since Adam
was diagnosed with lymphoma back in January, I haven’t really had much time to
be on my own, and since losing Isaac, I’ve found that it’s the moments I’m
completely alone that I feel the pain the most.
It’s weird how the time that I used to look forward to so much is now
the time that I dread. When I’m by
myself, I have time to really think, and while that isn’t necessarily a bad
thing, it can be really hard.
All that being said, as I’m on my own for a few hours
tonight, I’m thinking about Isaac and how much I miss him, but I’m also
thinking about the time I got to spend with a dear friend earlier today and a
few different parts of our conversation that have stuck in my mind all
afternoon. First of all, Jenni knows
that writing has always been a very important part of how I process and deal
with things, and she is encouraging me to start writing again. She’s right.
I need to write, but as I haven’t really felt like doing so, I’ve
decided that the best way to hold myself accountable to that is by
blogging. I’m also choosing to blog for
another reason. I talked to Jenni about
how I had no problem posting what I wrote about Isaac and where my heart is on
the Hope Mommies blog, but it took me a while to willingly post it on facebook
where people that I actually know would see it.
When she asked why that was difficult for me, I had to acknowledge that
I didn’t like the idea of people I have contact with seeing that I’m struggling
and knowing where my heart is. I need to
be open about it though. The last reason
that I’ve decided to blog is that I have had people comment about how strong I
am and how encouraging my faith has been through everything, and I need those
people to know that I am not someone to admire in that because in no way am I
strong and my faith is so very weak.
There are so many other things I took away from the time I
had with Jenni today, and I want to write about quite a few of those, but Adam
is home now, it’s getting late, and I have to be up at 4:45am for work
tomorrow. I’ll write more soon, and if I
don’t, please call me out on it.
Friday, August 16, 2013
Our Little Family
Well, it has been a very long time since I've posted anything on my blog, and so much has changed since I last wrote. First of all, Adam and I were married on July 7th, 2012. It was the hottest day of the summer, but the wedding was absolutely perfect, and I love being married to my best friend. The first few months of our marriage were pretty uneventful, just figuring out what it looked like to be married, and we enjoyed it.
In January, our world changed. We found out in early January that I was pregnant. We were nervous, but so excited! Immediately, I started planning and browsing pinterest for nursery themes, the best baby products, and anything else baby related. Adam's sister was pregnant and due in June...I was excited that the cousins would only be a few months apart.
A couple days later Adam texted me from work saying that he wasn't feeling well. He told me that his throat hurt and his chest was feeling weird. I insisted that he make a doctor's appointment, so he went in that afternoon. The doctor could tell there was some swelling in his throat and figured it was a virus, so, she gave him a Z-pack and told him to come back at the end of the week if it didn't help. He still wasn't feeling well when he finished the medication so he went back. The swelling was still there and worsening, so our doctor sent him to the hospital to have some scans done and we were told to call on Monday (it was Friday) for the results. That night Adam couldn't sleep. He was in pain and parts of his neck and shoulder were numb. We called the on-call number for our doctor and were told to go to the ER. The did a quick exam and then sent Adam for a CT scan. The scan showed that there was a large (approximately 10cm) mass in his throat that was beginning to expand into his chest. That was when we first heard that cancer was a possibility and we were taken via ambulance to an ER with an on-call ENT (Ear, nose, and throat specialist). The ENT decided that they needed to do a biopsy as soon as possible and scheduled one for Monday morning. We planned to meet with the ENT a few days after to biopsy to get the results and come up with a plan. We never had that meeting. Wednesday night we got a phone call that would forever change our lives. The results were back and the mass was cancer. The next morning we made the hour long trip to Cincinnati and met with the oncologist Adam was being referred to. The cancer was an aggressive form of lymphoma and he needed to start treatment right away. Adam was admitted to the hospital that afternoon and chemotherapy started the next morning. The next few months were hard. Treatments were a combination of 24 hour infusions and smaller doses, so we were in the hospital for a week straight at times, and when we weren't, we were there almost every day for infusions. Chemo was hard on Adam and it made him pretty sick on a regular basis. Not only did he physically feel awful, he was frustrated because morning sickness was destroying me, but instead of him being able to take care of me, I was having to fight through it and take care of him. Despite severe morning sickness that had me losing weight rather than gaining it, I was enjoying pregnancy and looking forward to meeting our baby was giving Adam and I both a lot of hope for the future, when chemo would be over and we would be finishing the nursery and getting ready for our first child.
We found out at the end of April that we were going to have a little boy, Isaac Eugene, and at the beginning of May, Adam finished his chemotherapy. The planning and preparations were taken to a whole new level. We decided on a dinosaur themed nursery and had a great time registering for baby gifts, a very large majority of which were dino related. With chemo done and Adam starting to regain some of his strength and energy, life was looking good.
Saturday, May 18th started out like a normal Saturday for us. Adam and I spent the day relaxing and watching the Cincinnati Red's game. Throughout my pregnancy, our sweet boy was always the most active when I was watching baseball. Our Isaac was a huge Red's fan, even in the womb! As we watched the game that afternoon, Isaac was loving it. He was the most active I had ever felt him be, and Adam was loving how much he was getting to feel our little man kick. We didn't realize that he was trying to tell us something. That night we were going to dinner in Cincinnati with a group of about 15 friends to celebrate birthdays, Adam's and another close friend's. About an hour before we needed to leave, I started to have severe cramps. I was concerned, but, about a week and a half before I had gone to the ER for the exact same pains and without even having an exam done was told that there was a stomach bug going around and I would be fine. So, I kept getting ready for dinner and did my best to ignore the severe pains that kept shooting through my back and stomach. As we were driving to dinner the pain got worse, but we had a couple friends in the car and I didn't want to sound like I was complaining, so I didn't say anything. When we got to the restaurant and I stood up to get out of the car, I instantly knew something was wrong. I went straight to the restroom and was terrified by the amount of blood that I saw. I panicked. It was prom night and I was in a bathroom stall, blood everywhere, with high school girls standing right outside the door talking about how their make up was perfect and how much they loved their dresses. I remember thinking that I wanted to scream, I wanted to burst into tears, but I wouldn't let myself because I didn't want to freak out the high schoolers. When I got back to Adam, I pulled him away from our friends and told him what was going on and we called my doctor. He told us that I needed to get to an emergency room immediately. Being 45 minutes away from home, we didn't know where to go, so he suggested a hospital in the area with a national recognized NICU and maternity ward. The ten minute drive to the hospital seemed like it took forever. I spent the whole drive crying, afraid that we were going to lose our son right then and there.
We got to the hospital at 7:30pm and were sent straight to the labor and delivery floor. They started asking me all the insurance questions but quickly realized that Adam could take care of that while they found out what was going on with me and our baby. As soon as I was in an exam room, they hooked up a fetal heart monitor. Thankfully, they were able to find Isaac's strong heartbeat right away. It didn't last long though. Another round of pain, apparently those cramps were contractions, seized me and Isaac's heartbeat dropped drastically. The doctor did an exam and found that despite being 23 weeks and 6 days pregnant, I was fully dilated and that the umbilical cord was on the opposite side of the placenta, so every time I had a contraction, pressure was being put on the cord and Isaac wasn't getting the blood and oxygen that he needed. By this time, Adam was done with the paperwork and was with me. The doctor told us that our baby was going to be born very soon and that we could choose whether to have a natural birth or an emergency c-section. With a natural birth, there was little to no chance of Isaac surviving, and the odds were only slightly better with the c-section. While our plan had always been to have as natural of a birth as possible, we decided to go with the c-section and told the doctor to do whatever was necessary to save our son. Because of how quickly everything needed to happen, I was rushed to the operating room and completely put under, and Adam wasn't allowed to be in the surgery with me.
Isaac Eugene Crosby was born at 8:08pm, 1lb 2oz, 11 3/4inches long. From the very beginning, he was a little fighter. If he hadn't attempted to breath on his own, they wouldn't have tried to do anything to save him, but he did gasp for air, and so our little man was quickly examined and hooked up to a ventilator to help him breath. Since I was still in surgery and would need some time to come around after the anesthesia, Adam was able to spend the first hour of Isaac's life with our sweet baby. Had we been at home and gone to the hospital where we originally planned to have Isaac, our hospital would not have been able to taking care of such a premature baby. Once I woke up, Adam came to be with me and showed me a picture of our precious little boy. When I was able to move from recovery to a room, the nurse wheeled my bed through the NICU so that I could meet my son for the first time. He was so tiny, but so beautiful and so perfect. From the moment we found out that I was pregnant, I had loved him, but seeing him for the first time, he completely stole my heart. I could have just sat there staring at him and talking to him for hours, but instead I had to be taken to my room and was told to get some sleep. The next day I wasn't allowed to go see Isaac until I was able to get out of bed and into a wheel chair (not such an easy task after a c-section...the pain was awful!), and my nurse wouldn't let me do that until fairly late into the afternoon. It drove me crazy! I just wanted to be with my baby. When he had been born, Adam was told that there was only a 20% chance of our baby living, so once I was allowed to be out of bed, Adam and I spent every moment we possibly could at Isaac's bedside. The first couple days seemed to go okay. Isaac's skin was initially a very thin, waxy texture, prone to tearing and very sensitive, so we had to be very careful touching him. Over time, his skin became stronger and we were allowed to change our babies diapers every few hours. I loved that! Because he was born so early, most of his organs needed some help learning how to work, especially his lungs, so he was on an oscillating ventilator. Because of how the ventilator worked, we weren't able to hold Isaac. It is so hard to watch your child fighting for life and not only being helpless to do anything to make it easier, but not even being able to hold him. When he was three days old, Isaac's blood tests came back showing such low levels that the doctor's believed the only explanation was that his brain was bleeding. They were going to do an ultrasound on his head the next morning and if there was a bleed in his brain, we would have to say good-bye because there wouldn't be anything that could be done to fix it. That was a very tearful night. We, as well as our family and friends, spent hours in prayer for our tiny baby boy. To the surprise of the doctor's and nurses, the ultrasound showed that his brain was completely fine! At that moment, I believed that our baby was going to survive. God had worked it out that we were near an amazing hospital, one capable of dealing with our situation, when I went into labor, and He had proved Himself again when Isaac's ultrasound came back clean when there was no other explanation for his low levels of blood. I was still scared, still very nervous, but I trusted the Lord to take care of my son and to help him grow healthy and strong. Isaac was fed breast milk very early on and handled it well. He was gaining weight (very slowly...but with being so small, any weight gain was a big deal), his skin was healing, and he was a very spirited and willful little boy. Being in the NICU was hard, and there were some terrifying moments, but I trusted that the Lord was going to take care of everything and that at the beginning of September, when Isaac was initially due, we would be taking him home, happy and healthy.
At 11 days old, Isaac's blood work showed signs of infection and his breathing, which had been steadily getting better and almost to the point that his ventilator could be switched to one that would allow us to hold him, began to be a difficulty again. After many, many tests, we still had no answers as to what type of infection it was or where in his body it was, so a week long anti-biotic treatment began. After a couple days, it seemed to be working and our little man looked and acted like he was feeling better. Because of the breathing tube, we never got to hear him cry, but Isaac was very good at letting us know how he was feeling. For one, he had a wide range of facial expressions, but he also had the tendency to drop his breathing and heart rates when something was wrong or he was unhappy and then would fairly quickly fix them again when he got his way (yeah, my son was the kid that would hold his breathe until he got what he wanted). It seemed like the infection was subsiding and Isaac was going to be okay...but the day that the anti-biotics stopped, the his blood levels showed that the infection was getting worse again and that his tiny body wasn't able to keep fighting it. Throughout our whole time in the NICU, the story of Abraham and Isaac came to mind over and over again. The Lord had tested Abraham, and when he showed his willingness to give up his only son, the Lord rewarded him and providing a ram for the sacrifice instead of using his Isaac. I told the Lord that I believed He would heal my son, but that I also knew Isaac belonged to Him. I tried to be okay with the fact that God could take Isaac away from me, and I told Him that I was okay with it, but I wasn't. I put on a strong front, and when friends asked, I told them that Isaac belonged to the Lord more than he did to me...every time I said it, every time I prayed and acknowledge to the Lord that my son was His, a little more of me would fall apart.
When Isaac was 19 days old, Adam and I got the phone call that we needed to get the hospital right away (we had left less than an hour beforehand to take a quick shower before heading right back to the hospital). Isaac wasn't doing well and things weren't looking good. They had run more tests and and were able to find out that the infection was NEC (necrotizing enterocolitis). NEC is an infection that causes tissue in the intestines to die. In some cases, surgery can be done to repair the intestines, but Isaac was so little and his body was already so overwhelmed that surgery wasn't an option. All we could do was wait and pray, hoping that the anti-biotics would be enough to get rid of the infection. I believed that it would be. When we got to the hospital, Isaac kept crashing. His heart rate and ability to breath would drop and they were constantly having to re-intubate because the infection was affecting his lungs so much that the breathing tube would get clogged within moments of being put in. Eventually the doctor told us that they could keep trying to re-intubate every few minutes, but it wouldn't change anything and it would only hurt Isaac more. He said that it would probably be best if we told them to stop trying and just held Isaac, letting him spend his last few moments in the arms of his parents, who loved him. That was the hardest decision of my life. Up until that point, the only time that I had gotten to hold Isaac was when his isolette broke and they had me hold him for the brief two minutes that it took to switch everything over to a new isolette, and Adam had never gotten to hold him. We held him, and we said good-bye to the tiniest, most precious thing either of us had ever had. Isaac passed away on June 6th, 2013 at 12:30pm.
I had 19 amazing days with my son, 19 days that I wouldn't trade for anything. We have beautiful memories of our little boy opening his eyes when he was 15 days old, of Adam laughing because Isaac loved to wait until I had put a new diaper under him to start pooping again, of sitting by his side reading to him and telling him about our lives. I treasure that time and will forever be thankful for it, and yet, there are moments when I almost feel like it would be less painful if the Lord had taken Isaac sooner. If I'm going to be brutally honest, I am furious with God right now. I don't understand why He took my sweet son away. I don't understand why He would work everything out so perfectly that we were near the best possible hospital we could be for Isaac to be born and that He would keep Isaac from having a brain bleed when there seemed like there was no other possibility, and then take him away from us. I know that God has a plan and that He works everything out for our good, but I don't know that I believe that right now. No plan is ever a good enough reason to have lost my little boy. Nothing that could come of losing him will ever make it okay. I don't care what God's plan is and I see absolutely no way that He can turn the loss of my precious baby into something that is for my good. I constantly question God's power because I know that He could have healed the infection and made Isaac better, but He didn't. I feel hurt and betrayed by the Lord. Wasn't it enough that we had to struggle through Adam's cancer (as of a couple weeks ago, he is cancer free!)? Why make life even more difficult by taking away our son? It doesn't seem fair! There are parents who don't care about their children at all, there were multiple stories on the news last night about mothers neglecting and abusing their kids...how is it fair that we loved and wanted Isaac, and we lost him, while those mothers don't care and harm their kids but still have them?
It has been a little over two months since we lost Isaac, and every day is a struggle. Some days I feel like I'm getting by alright, and some days I just break down and cry. We have a nephew who was born ten days after Isaac. I love him dearly and he is such a sweet little baby, but sometimes it is so hard to see him and be around him because he is a reminder to me of the little boy that I don't have anymore. I should still be pregnant. I should have less than a month before Isaac is born. I should be finishing up the nursery, putting a hospital bag together, and making sure that the car seat is in the car and ready to go...instead I'm writing this, crying, missing my son and longing for some way to ease the emptiness I feel in my heart and in my arms where my baby boy should be.
In January, our world changed. We found out in early January that I was pregnant. We were nervous, but so excited! Immediately, I started planning and browsing pinterest for nursery themes, the best baby products, and anything else baby related. Adam's sister was pregnant and due in June...I was excited that the cousins would only be a few months apart.
A couple days later Adam texted me from work saying that he wasn't feeling well. He told me that his throat hurt and his chest was feeling weird. I insisted that he make a doctor's appointment, so he went in that afternoon. The doctor could tell there was some swelling in his throat and figured it was a virus, so, she gave him a Z-pack and told him to come back at the end of the week if it didn't help. He still wasn't feeling well when he finished the medication so he went back. The swelling was still there and worsening, so our doctor sent him to the hospital to have some scans done and we were told to call on Monday (it was Friday) for the results. That night Adam couldn't sleep. He was in pain and parts of his neck and shoulder were numb. We called the on-call number for our doctor and were told to go to the ER. The did a quick exam and then sent Adam for a CT scan. The scan showed that there was a large (approximately 10cm) mass in his throat that was beginning to expand into his chest. That was when we first heard that cancer was a possibility and we were taken via ambulance to an ER with an on-call ENT (Ear, nose, and throat specialist). The ENT decided that they needed to do a biopsy as soon as possible and scheduled one for Monday morning. We planned to meet with the ENT a few days after to biopsy to get the results and come up with a plan. We never had that meeting. Wednesday night we got a phone call that would forever change our lives. The results were back and the mass was cancer. The next morning we made the hour long trip to Cincinnati and met with the oncologist Adam was being referred to. The cancer was an aggressive form of lymphoma and he needed to start treatment right away. Adam was admitted to the hospital that afternoon and chemotherapy started the next morning. The next few months were hard. Treatments were a combination of 24 hour infusions and smaller doses, so we were in the hospital for a week straight at times, and when we weren't, we were there almost every day for infusions. Chemo was hard on Adam and it made him pretty sick on a regular basis. Not only did he physically feel awful, he was frustrated because morning sickness was destroying me, but instead of him being able to take care of me, I was having to fight through it and take care of him. Despite severe morning sickness that had me losing weight rather than gaining it, I was enjoying pregnancy and looking forward to meeting our baby was giving Adam and I both a lot of hope for the future, when chemo would be over and we would be finishing the nursery and getting ready for our first child.
We found out at the end of April that we were going to have a little boy, Isaac Eugene, and at the beginning of May, Adam finished his chemotherapy. The planning and preparations were taken to a whole new level. We decided on a dinosaur themed nursery and had a great time registering for baby gifts, a very large majority of which were dino related. With chemo done and Adam starting to regain some of his strength and energy, life was looking good.
Saturday, May 18th started out like a normal Saturday for us. Adam and I spent the day relaxing and watching the Cincinnati Red's game. Throughout my pregnancy, our sweet boy was always the most active when I was watching baseball. Our Isaac was a huge Red's fan, even in the womb! As we watched the game that afternoon, Isaac was loving it. He was the most active I had ever felt him be, and Adam was loving how much he was getting to feel our little man kick. We didn't realize that he was trying to tell us something. That night we were going to dinner in Cincinnati with a group of about 15 friends to celebrate birthdays, Adam's and another close friend's. About an hour before we needed to leave, I started to have severe cramps. I was concerned, but, about a week and a half before I had gone to the ER for the exact same pains and without even having an exam done was told that there was a stomach bug going around and I would be fine. So, I kept getting ready for dinner and did my best to ignore the severe pains that kept shooting through my back and stomach. As we were driving to dinner the pain got worse, but we had a couple friends in the car and I didn't want to sound like I was complaining, so I didn't say anything. When we got to the restaurant and I stood up to get out of the car, I instantly knew something was wrong. I went straight to the restroom and was terrified by the amount of blood that I saw. I panicked. It was prom night and I was in a bathroom stall, blood everywhere, with high school girls standing right outside the door talking about how their make up was perfect and how much they loved their dresses. I remember thinking that I wanted to scream, I wanted to burst into tears, but I wouldn't let myself because I didn't want to freak out the high schoolers. When I got back to Adam, I pulled him away from our friends and told him what was going on and we called my doctor. He told us that I needed to get to an emergency room immediately. Being 45 minutes away from home, we didn't know where to go, so he suggested a hospital in the area with a national recognized NICU and maternity ward. The ten minute drive to the hospital seemed like it took forever. I spent the whole drive crying, afraid that we were going to lose our son right then and there.
We got to the hospital at 7:30pm and were sent straight to the labor and delivery floor. They started asking me all the insurance questions but quickly realized that Adam could take care of that while they found out what was going on with me and our baby. As soon as I was in an exam room, they hooked up a fetal heart monitor. Thankfully, they were able to find Isaac's strong heartbeat right away. It didn't last long though. Another round of pain, apparently those cramps were contractions, seized me and Isaac's heartbeat dropped drastically. The doctor did an exam and found that despite being 23 weeks and 6 days pregnant, I was fully dilated and that the umbilical cord was on the opposite side of the placenta, so every time I had a contraction, pressure was being put on the cord and Isaac wasn't getting the blood and oxygen that he needed. By this time, Adam was done with the paperwork and was with me. The doctor told us that our baby was going to be born very soon and that we could choose whether to have a natural birth or an emergency c-section. With a natural birth, there was little to no chance of Isaac surviving, and the odds were only slightly better with the c-section. While our plan had always been to have as natural of a birth as possible, we decided to go with the c-section and told the doctor to do whatever was necessary to save our son. Because of how quickly everything needed to happen, I was rushed to the operating room and completely put under, and Adam wasn't allowed to be in the surgery with me.
Isaac Eugene Crosby was born at 8:08pm, 1lb 2oz, 11 3/4inches long. From the very beginning, he was a little fighter. If he hadn't attempted to breath on his own, they wouldn't have tried to do anything to save him, but he did gasp for air, and so our little man was quickly examined and hooked up to a ventilator to help him breath. Since I was still in surgery and would need some time to come around after the anesthesia, Adam was able to spend the first hour of Isaac's life with our sweet baby. Had we been at home and gone to the hospital where we originally planned to have Isaac, our hospital would not have been able to taking care of such a premature baby. Once I woke up, Adam came to be with me and showed me a picture of our precious little boy. When I was able to move from recovery to a room, the nurse wheeled my bed through the NICU so that I could meet my son for the first time. He was so tiny, but so beautiful and so perfect. From the moment we found out that I was pregnant, I had loved him, but seeing him for the first time, he completely stole my heart. I could have just sat there staring at him and talking to him for hours, but instead I had to be taken to my room and was told to get some sleep. The next day I wasn't allowed to go see Isaac until I was able to get out of bed and into a wheel chair (not such an easy task after a c-section...the pain was awful!), and my nurse wouldn't let me do that until fairly late into the afternoon. It drove me crazy! I just wanted to be with my baby. When he had been born, Adam was told that there was only a 20% chance of our baby living, so once I was allowed to be out of bed, Adam and I spent every moment we possibly could at Isaac's bedside. The first couple days seemed to go okay. Isaac's skin was initially a very thin, waxy texture, prone to tearing and very sensitive, so we had to be very careful touching him. Over time, his skin became stronger and we were allowed to change our babies diapers every few hours. I loved that! Because he was born so early, most of his organs needed some help learning how to work, especially his lungs, so he was on an oscillating ventilator. Because of how the ventilator worked, we weren't able to hold Isaac. It is so hard to watch your child fighting for life and not only being helpless to do anything to make it easier, but not even being able to hold him. When he was three days old, Isaac's blood tests came back showing such low levels that the doctor's believed the only explanation was that his brain was bleeding. They were going to do an ultrasound on his head the next morning and if there was a bleed in his brain, we would have to say good-bye because there wouldn't be anything that could be done to fix it. That was a very tearful night. We, as well as our family and friends, spent hours in prayer for our tiny baby boy. To the surprise of the doctor's and nurses, the ultrasound showed that his brain was completely fine! At that moment, I believed that our baby was going to survive. God had worked it out that we were near an amazing hospital, one capable of dealing with our situation, when I went into labor, and He had proved Himself again when Isaac's ultrasound came back clean when there was no other explanation for his low levels of blood. I was still scared, still very nervous, but I trusted the Lord to take care of my son and to help him grow healthy and strong. Isaac was fed breast milk very early on and handled it well. He was gaining weight (very slowly...but with being so small, any weight gain was a big deal), his skin was healing, and he was a very spirited and willful little boy. Being in the NICU was hard, and there were some terrifying moments, but I trusted that the Lord was going to take care of everything and that at the beginning of September, when Isaac was initially due, we would be taking him home, happy and healthy.
At 11 days old, Isaac's blood work showed signs of infection and his breathing, which had been steadily getting better and almost to the point that his ventilator could be switched to one that would allow us to hold him, began to be a difficulty again. After many, many tests, we still had no answers as to what type of infection it was or where in his body it was, so a week long anti-biotic treatment began. After a couple days, it seemed to be working and our little man looked and acted like he was feeling better. Because of the breathing tube, we never got to hear him cry, but Isaac was very good at letting us know how he was feeling. For one, he had a wide range of facial expressions, but he also had the tendency to drop his breathing and heart rates when something was wrong or he was unhappy and then would fairly quickly fix them again when he got his way (yeah, my son was the kid that would hold his breathe until he got what he wanted). It seemed like the infection was subsiding and Isaac was going to be okay...but the day that the anti-biotics stopped, the his blood levels showed that the infection was getting worse again and that his tiny body wasn't able to keep fighting it. Throughout our whole time in the NICU, the story of Abraham and Isaac came to mind over and over again. The Lord had tested Abraham, and when he showed his willingness to give up his only son, the Lord rewarded him and providing a ram for the sacrifice instead of using his Isaac. I told the Lord that I believed He would heal my son, but that I also knew Isaac belonged to Him. I tried to be okay with the fact that God could take Isaac away from me, and I told Him that I was okay with it, but I wasn't. I put on a strong front, and when friends asked, I told them that Isaac belonged to the Lord more than he did to me...every time I said it, every time I prayed and acknowledge to the Lord that my son was His, a little more of me would fall apart.
When Isaac was 19 days old, Adam and I got the phone call that we needed to get the hospital right away (we had left less than an hour beforehand to take a quick shower before heading right back to the hospital). Isaac wasn't doing well and things weren't looking good. They had run more tests and and were able to find out that the infection was NEC (necrotizing enterocolitis). NEC is an infection that causes tissue in the intestines to die. In some cases, surgery can be done to repair the intestines, but Isaac was so little and his body was already so overwhelmed that surgery wasn't an option. All we could do was wait and pray, hoping that the anti-biotics would be enough to get rid of the infection. I believed that it would be. When we got to the hospital, Isaac kept crashing. His heart rate and ability to breath would drop and they were constantly having to re-intubate because the infection was affecting his lungs so much that the breathing tube would get clogged within moments of being put in. Eventually the doctor told us that they could keep trying to re-intubate every few minutes, but it wouldn't change anything and it would only hurt Isaac more. He said that it would probably be best if we told them to stop trying and just held Isaac, letting him spend his last few moments in the arms of his parents, who loved him. That was the hardest decision of my life. Up until that point, the only time that I had gotten to hold Isaac was when his isolette broke and they had me hold him for the brief two minutes that it took to switch everything over to a new isolette, and Adam had never gotten to hold him. We held him, and we said good-bye to the tiniest, most precious thing either of us had ever had. Isaac passed away on June 6th, 2013 at 12:30pm.
I had 19 amazing days with my son, 19 days that I wouldn't trade for anything. We have beautiful memories of our little boy opening his eyes when he was 15 days old, of Adam laughing because Isaac loved to wait until I had put a new diaper under him to start pooping again, of sitting by his side reading to him and telling him about our lives. I treasure that time and will forever be thankful for it, and yet, there are moments when I almost feel like it would be less painful if the Lord had taken Isaac sooner. If I'm going to be brutally honest, I am furious with God right now. I don't understand why He took my sweet son away. I don't understand why He would work everything out so perfectly that we were near the best possible hospital we could be for Isaac to be born and that He would keep Isaac from having a brain bleed when there seemed like there was no other possibility, and then take him away from us. I know that God has a plan and that He works everything out for our good, but I don't know that I believe that right now. No plan is ever a good enough reason to have lost my little boy. Nothing that could come of losing him will ever make it okay. I don't care what God's plan is and I see absolutely no way that He can turn the loss of my precious baby into something that is for my good. I constantly question God's power because I know that He could have healed the infection and made Isaac better, but He didn't. I feel hurt and betrayed by the Lord. Wasn't it enough that we had to struggle through Adam's cancer (as of a couple weeks ago, he is cancer free!)? Why make life even more difficult by taking away our son? It doesn't seem fair! There are parents who don't care about their children at all, there were multiple stories on the news last night about mothers neglecting and abusing their kids...how is it fair that we loved and wanted Isaac, and we lost him, while those mothers don't care and harm their kids but still have them?
It has been a little over two months since we lost Isaac, and every day is a struggle. Some days I feel like I'm getting by alright, and some days I just break down and cry. We have a nephew who was born ten days after Isaac. I love him dearly and he is such a sweet little baby, but sometimes it is so hard to see him and be around him because he is a reminder to me of the little boy that I don't have anymore. I should still be pregnant. I should have less than a month before Isaac is born. I should be finishing up the nursery, putting a hospital bag together, and making sure that the car seat is in the car and ready to go...instead I'm writing this, crying, missing my son and longing for some way to ease the emptiness I feel in my heart and in my arms where my baby boy should be.
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Cherry Blossoms and a Sneak Peek at Our Wedding Location
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| So beautiful! I am so blessed to have a friend whose family owns this amazing place and is willing to let Adam and I get married there! |
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| Gorgeous! |
Monday, March 19, 2012
Summer in March?
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| Enjoying the sunshine! |
Friday, March 2, 2012
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