Guess what!  My boy is pretty much potty trained!  He turned 3 on June 1st, and was nowhere near being called trained, it's now July 18th, and he has one accident a day,  at his nap time.  He's so funny.  He gets SO excited.  I've said, "Aidan! I'm so proud of you!" so many times, that now all I have to say is, "Mommy's so...." and he'll yell "pwowyeeeeeeeeeeew!"  So cute!  I am so in love with that kid, with all of them! And I'm so, so grateful to have each of them. 

He can also swim.  I'm not real sure what he'd do without his arm floaties, but with them on, he'll put his face down in the water and kick and paddle all the way across the pool.  We "race" a lot.  I let him win a lot, but occasionally I have him lose.  I can't raise a kid who thinks he's too good to lose occasionally.  But, even when he "loses", I brag on him and tell him how great he's doing.  He has absolutely no fear of the water, which creates a million and one fears in mommy.  I'm constantly worried about him finding a way out back without us and getting in. I am so vigilant.  We have had approximately 2,293 talks about how we only go in the pool when Mommy or Daddy, or Mammy can get in, too. 

The child is all boy.  Rough and tumble is a good phrase to describe him.  He loves dirt, bugs, watering the flowers, playing ball, playing trucks, and just RUNNING.  Man, he's cute. 

The potty training has been an ongoing process since about this time last summer.  For the last year, he has successfully stayed dry any time we went out in public.  Restaurants, stores, you name it, he would stay dry and ask for the potty.  But, at home, he had absolutely no interest in it.  Harrumph. So one day I decided to put underwear on him and make a HUGE deal about big boys and underwear.  It only took a couple days of consistent underwear use, and he hsn't had an awake accident in weeks.  This was the summer I had intended to potty train both him and his brother.  Back when I was pregnant with Landon, and getting all the negative comments about having 2 so close together, 2 in diapers, 2 babies, blah blah blah. Back before my world crashed.

In my mind, I had decided that I'd leave Aidan alone until the summer he turned 3 and Landon turned 2.  I'd just do it together, make it a contest, make it fun, and get it all overwith at once.  My plan halfway worked.  OH, how I wish I had 2 sticker charts on my wall, and 2 sets of Buzz Lightyear underwear, and 2 little boys yelling those words that parents both love and dread to hear  "I'm Dooooooooone!"   But, rather than drown in what I've lost, I want to rejoice in being able to have all that with Aidan. 

I have decided something.  I'm going to live.  I am going to celebrate the weeks I had Landon, celebrate the love I feel for him, but not drown in that sadness.  I don't think that's what my boy, my family, or God wants for me.  I think I'm meant to go on, and try to be an inspiration, no matter how small, to others who have experienced the nightmare of losing a child.  I want to help others. I want to use my loss, and all I learned from it, to comfort and encourage other women.  I pray that I am always able to find, if not the perfect, then good, words to offer bereaved mommies. 

Online, it's so easy to offer encouragement.  In person, sometimes it's harder.  I pray that I can get past that. 

God has been so good to me.  I have given birth to four of the most beautiful children ever.  I still have 3 of them.  The missing one, is perfect and whole in ways he never would have been here. 

My girls are so amazing.  So beautiful.  So sweet.  And they've been so healing for me.  They don't take Landon's place, nor make up for losing him, but they heal my heart every day.  I love them just as much as I love Landon, it's just in a different way. I love them as much as I love Aidan, but again, in a different way.  I love newborns, love that stage, but I have a confession.  This 3 month old stage, where they're smiling and giggling and cooing, and discovering hands, and interacting with me... I'm falling in love with both of them all over again, every single day.

I enjoyed all of this with Aidan, but I sort of took it for granted. Birth accidents, babies dying.. that only happens to "other people."  Well, I'm now that "other people."  And I know first hand how fast life can change, and I take nothing for granted any more, and I'm sure to be thankful for what I've got, and to show my thankfulness in any way I can.

I'm going to give a preview of what's going around in my head for a couple different entries.  The first one I have on my mind and in my heart will be a "just because" entry.  As in, "Just because my baby's dead...."  "Just because I've had more babies, ....."  "Just because it has been two years..."   and the other one is from the perspective of a parent of twins.  That one should be pretty entertaining.  We are sideshow freaks right now.  You'll see, I'll be as bluntly honest as I can be, describing our outings.  We laugh so hard sometimes, from the things that people say to us.

Wanna see some newer pics of the kids?  I'm always up for sharing.  I'm so proud of my babies, and I love them more than I love myself.


Rebekah on the left, Gracie on the right.  Rebekah has a lock of hair on each side of her head that sticks straight out, regardless of what I do to it. I've even rubbed a bit of baby lotion on it, and it won't lay down.  Thank God their Mammy (My mom) is a beautician!!



She wore a dress with cherries on it....


Gracie

Bekah

Mr. Cool

I Survived it, Again.

My bad weeks of the year are over.  From Landon's birthday of June 22, through the 4th of July, to July 6th, the day he died, til the 9th, the day we buried him, are the worst 17 days of the year.  I miss Landon every day,  but those anniversaries just bring it home to me.

Last year really sucked.  Not like the year before, when it was happening, but it still sucked.  I was so sad to not be having a big first birthday party for him.  What would I have bought him?  What theme would we have had?  Handy Manny? Pooh?  I'll never know.  Aidan got a swingset and a Mickey Mouse party for his first birthday.  Three weeks later he got a brother. Who he never met.

I still go around and around with myself, did I do the right things?  We didn't let Aidan go to the hospital and meet his brother.  He was not even 13 months old yet when Landon was born, there's no way he'd remember it. But I would. I could have had a picture of my 2 boys together.  But I don't.

Aidan asks about the pictures I have on my walls of his brother, and I just say, "That's your brother Landon, in Heaven."  I know as my kids grow up, I will have to give more detail.  But for now, that simple answer suffices.  When Landon died, I swore to myself and to my son that he'd not be the kid that grows up and tells people "Mommy cries a lot."  I swore that I wouldn't get so hung up on what I've lost, that I lose site of what I still have. 

I can love and enjoy, and be happy with Aidan and the girls, and still mourn my Landon. 

So, as I was saying, I survived those bad few weeks.  I want to talk about the word survive for a minute.

From Webster's Dictionary online:

sur·vive

verb \sər-ˈvīv\

sur·vivedsur·viv·ing

Definition of SURVIVE

intransitive verb

1

: to remain alive or in existence : live on

2

: to continue to function or prosper

Look at the first part of each definition.  For 1, it's to remain alive or in existence.  So, in the onbituaries, Larry and I were listed as survivors.    For definition 2, to continueto function.  We functioned, but barely.  We remained alive, but we didn't truly LIVE for quite a while.  We just survived.  The only joy we found was in Aidan.  Before Landon, we found joy in everything. 

But, time is a great healer, and God is the great physician.  My faith that I will see Landon again has helped me a lot. 

I would feel guilty if I found myself enjoying anything at all.  I couldn't do things we did before.  I hadn't missed a Monday night softball game (church league)  but there was some woman there who would ask every week, "you've not had that baby yet?" and I couldn't face her.  I avoided a certain cashier at the grocery, because I was afraid she'd ask where Aidan's brother was. 

I don't remember when things started to get better, but they did.  It was so gradual.  It was in no way an overnight thing.  We went to Tennessee three times last year, once before the bad weeks and twice after.  Being away, getting away from everything except for our little family, helped so much.  After the third trip was when I ended up pregnant with the twins.

Now, this year, the bad weeks were a lot easier for me to survive, but that isn't saying that I didn't mourn.  I want to think that Landon would be proud of me.  So many other mommies who have lost their little babies tell me that I give them hope and that they admire my strength.  I feel that everything happens for a reason, and I think it's a good thing to try to help others who are going through their own version of my hell. 

Rest in Peace, Mommy's littlest son

Landon James Fletcher 6/22/09-7/6/09

God, I miss you

From the Perspective of a Mom who did NOT kill my child...

I didn't start this blog as a means to spout my political views nor my opinions on current events.  However, today I feel led to write about the Casey Anthony verdict.  I am angry.  Very angry.  I absolutely do not believe that she didn't kill that baby.

Here's my opinion, and it is just that, my opinion.  Nobody has to agree with me, but as a grieving mom, there are a few things I want to say.

First off.  The month she waited to report Caylee missing? Wow.  A month.  If Aidan is too quiet for more than a few minutes, I'm frantically searching my house for him.  I need to know where he is at every given minute. Even when I leave him with my mom or grandmother, I am calling every half hour or hour to make sure he's ok.  The girls aren't big enough yet to wonder off on their own, so that's actually one worry about them that hasn't hit me yet.

Now, there's testimony about the stench of death in her car, testimony about the duct tape, trash bag, all that stuff.  I could go on and on.  But that's not my mission here. My mission is about my gut reaction.  Mainly to the condition of the body and the way she was disposed of.

My child died. I had to bury him. That was the last thing I would ever get to do for him.  I had the need in my heart to do it perfectly.  I put so much thought, time and love into every detail of his burial.  He was buried in the outfit that he was supposed to wear home from the hospital.  I had picked it out months earlier, with so much love.  When we knew he was going to die, I wouldn't consider any other outfit.  He's buried with a tan thermal blanket I had bought to swaddle him in, it was one of the few things that I had bought just for him, not a hand-me-down from Aidan. 

We picked out a pretty little white casket.  He's buried on top of my grandfather, whom I loved so, so much.  I wanted him there, rather than all alone on the other side of the cemetery.  I put a great deal of thought and tears into chosing funeral flowers for him.

Caylee was found with duct tape and a sticker over her mouth.  In target clothes, in a trash bag.  How much thought went into that?  That tells me she was ditched in a hurry.  She was cast aside like last weekend's garbage.  No mother would do that to her child's body, if the child had truly died in an accident.  I'm sorry, but they just wouldn't.  That baby was part of her.  She nurtured her in her own body all those months.  There's no way she would have gotten rid of her like that unless she needed to hide what she had done.
There, that's my piece. 

4th of July

Happy Independence Day! It has been 3 years since I have actually had a happy one.  Three years ago, Aidan was about 5 weeks old.  We went to a big family gathering, and since he was the newest baby, he was the center of attention.  (he's still very much the center of attention. He makes sure of it!)  We were all playing with him, and put him on the floor for tummy time, and he rolled over for the first time.  And second. And third.  I lost count of how many times he did that.  Every time we put him on his belly from that point on, he would roll back over!  I was so proud, I was quite certain that he was going to be the next Einstein or something. 

Fourth of July two years ago.  Oh, my.  Landon was 12 days old.  We had made the decision with his doctors on the second, to remove all life support, but had all agreed to wait until Monday, the 6th, to do it. Mainly because of the Holiday weekend.  I will copy and paste a journal I wrote last year on the 4th, telling about Landon's holiday. 

Last year I had Landon in my arms on the 4th. This year I don't. I got to be with him morning and evening, with a family get-together in between. I didn't want to go to that, but I did, for Aidan. I spent hours and hours at that hospital holding my littlest son. I would give anything in the world to hold him again. But, I can't, and that's the facts. He's gone. Someday, I will see him again, in Heaven. I"m grateful for the 2 weeks that I did have him, I'm grateful for the pregnancy, I'm grateful for my fertility, but, man, I miss my baby. I'm so so grateful that I have Aidan. He's my bestest friend. I would lay down and die without him.


After the family to-do last year, just my Mom and I went back up to the hospital. It was so much more peaceful than any other visit we made. All the other hours I spent there were filled with family and friends wanting to come see him. No one could see him without Larry or me in the room. That night, though, mom and I didn't tell anyone we were going. So, we were uninterrupted. I just got to hold, and enjoy (as much as I could) my 12 day old baby. It was bittersweet. I knew I only had 2 more days with him, because we had already decided to remove life support on the 6th. That decision was the hardest I've ever made. We decided for that particular day, to give us a holiday with him, and because we didn't want a funeral on the holiday.


Man, I miss my baby.


Landon James, Mommy loves you just as much today as I did a year ago. You were so beautiful, and you were so wanted and loved. I know you're perfectly healthy and whole now, in ways you never would have been here. I hope when you look down on me, you're proud of what you see. I'm so very proud of you. You were a fighter from the get-go. Happy 4th of July, baby. I wish so much that I was dressing you and Aidan in matching Red, White and Blue t-shirts for this cookout tonight...

Now it is two years since Landon's holiday.  That 4th of July will always be his holiday to me.  It was the only holiday I got to spend with my littlest son, and it was overshadowed by the knowledge that he would most likely be dead in two days.  Even then, I was holding out hope and faith that a miracle would happen.  I prayed so hard for a miracle.    God answers all prayers.  It's either "yes", "no", or "not yet."   I didn't know it at the time, but his answer to my pleas for a miracle was "not yet." 

Had someone told me at that time that twin girls were in my future, I would have never believed them.  I couldn't see past the moment back then, in fact it was many months before I could think ahead of the very minute in which I was living.  I truly thought that my life was over.  My heart hurt like I was dying.  How could I live with that pain?  Every waking minute was spent with a pain in my gut, like someone had punched me. 

I couldn't function like a normal person.  Grocery shopping, clothes shopping, eating in restaurants, anything requiring me to be in public,  that was all HUGE ordeals for me through Landon's life and in the months immediately following his death.   I remember the first time I saw a woman with a newborn in WalMart.  I nearly dropped to my knees.  The pain was so real, so physical.  It was so hard for me to breath.    I don't remember exactly when that stopped for me, but it did.  I eventually got back to being the one who loves to see, hold, love little babies.  But for a period of time, I felt like every new mother's whole goal in life was to cause me pain.

The truth of the matter is, nobody can look at someone and know that they have lost their child. Those women, who had never met me, had no clue that just the sight of their baby caused me physical pain.  It wasn't their fault my baby was dead.  Once I realized that, things got better.

So, back to the subject at hand.  The 4th of July has rolled around again.  Three years ago, I had one baby.  Two years ago, I had 2 babies.  Last year, I was back to one baby.  Today I have 3 babies.  I like three babies. My ideal life would be 4 babies, but Lanon's gone and no amount of longing or fantasizing about "what if" is going to bring him back.

My girls are so perfect. They're so pretty, if I do say so myself.  Both are over 10 pounds now, and Gracie is pushing 11.  She finally has little rolls on her legs.  Rebekah's little legs are still so skinny, but she's growing well,  I think she's going to be tall and skinny.  That makes me happy since I'm short and fat. 

Aidan is getting to be such a big boy.  We're potty training. He does great with peeing.  Pooping is a struggle.  He would rather stand with his butt clenched, arguing with me about it, than to just go poop in the potty!  If it were anyone else's kid, I'd be laughing myself silly over it... so go ahead. Laugh. 

He calls both babies "we-BetTy"  and if he's talking to Gracie, I'll correct him, "Aidan, that's not Rebekah,  who is she?"  And he'll grin real cute and say, "dat Greasy!"  So funny!!

He's pretty afraid of fireworks.  He told my mom tonight, "care me a deaf!!!"  and ran to his bed and covered his head up.  I wish he liked them, that'd be a great thing for us to do as a family tomorrow night. The funny thing is, he's not a bit afraid of thunder.  Go figure!

I want to share a few pictures, and then I'm going to bed!!  I will try my best to get back here tomorrow and post pics of my girls on their first 4th of July, and Aidan, too. 



Landon on his 4th of July



My nephew Gavin on the left, Aidan on the right, on the 4th of July when Landon was in the hospital



This was yesterday. I captioned it "The two newest Duggars, JeRebekah and JoGracie"

I love the Duggars, by the way, and was in no way making fun of them.  I just call those big bows Duggar bows.    
That's Rebekah on the Left, Gracie on the Right.



Bubby chasing Ducks at the park.

The "Hippest" Mommy in Town

My babies are 7 weeks old now.  I can't believe how time flies!  They are both over 8-1/2 pounds, and healthy and growing like little piggies.  Aidan is in love with them, calls both of them "We-bett-ee".  If I say, "that's not Rebekah!"  He'll say, "Gracie!!!"  only it sounds like "Ricie!!"   He wants to kiss and love on them all the time.  All.  The.  Time.  I prayed that he would love them, and that them being in his life would be a good, positive thing, and so far, it seems as if that prayer has been answered.  He doesn't quite "get it" yet, that we let sleeping babies sleep... but, I would rather him love them too much, than to resent them.

My little boy will be 3 years old in five days.  It doesn't even seem possible, he should still be tiny like the girls!!  He's so into firetrucks right now.  EVERYTHING that is either red or a big truck, is a firetruck to him.  I want to try to find a Wilton's firetruck cake pan, for his birthday cake.  Either that, or I'll freehand one on a sheet cake.  Ack!  The thought of all that red icing! My hands will stay red for a year!

From Aidan's birthday until July 6th, will be a sad time for me.  Starting the day after Aidan's birthday, I'll be in the time period where, two years ago, I still thought all was perfect in my world.  Exactly 3 weeks after Aidan turned 1, my whole world turned upside down.  Landon was born, and it was bad.  That's not the way a baby's birth day should be.  That was almost a mantra I repeated over and over through that time, "It's not supposed to be like this.  Being a Mommy of 2 isn't supposed to be like this."  But, it was like that.  That was my reality.  My baby was born dying.  I got to be the mommy of 2 for exactly 2 weeks.  I was still a mommy of 2, after Landon died, but, how do you mother a dead baby?  I can't take care of him.  I can't buy him toys.  I can't do things for him.  In fact, the only thing I can do is remember him, and live my life so that I will see him again.  I thank God for that.  Part of wanting to write this blog, was my desire to keep him from being forgotten. 

Now on to the hips.  Rebekah was breech throughout the entire pregnancy.  My pediatrician ordered an ultrasound of her hips to be done at 6 weeks of age.  I took her last Friday (a week ago).  I hadn't even been home a full hour when the ped's office was calling.  The nurse I talked to said that the scan showed issues with both hips that needed immediate treatment.  She had already made Bekah an appointment with the orthpedic specialist on Monday.  I freaked out. She wouldn't answer any questions, just kept saying, "you'll have to wait til Monday."  I love my pediatrician, but his support staff sucks.  No compassion.

Monday came and we took my tiny little baby. The office was at Miami Valley South.  Thank God there's the south campus, I really don't think I could have taken another of my babies to Miami Valley main campus.  So, I was so nervous I was shaking.  My knees didn't want to work, to get me onto the elevator. I was picturing casts, surgery, wheelchairs....  Here's the reality of it:



She has a mild case of dysplasia.  Her hips are NOT dislocated.  Her socket is just a bit shallow, and this harness will help deepen it, and get the ball joint back where it needs to be.  She has to wear that thing 24 hours a day, only off for diaper changes, dressing, bathing, and "OCCASIONALLY" washing it.  He stressed occasionally, because the more time she spends in it, the sooner her hip will be better, and she won't have to wear it any more.   I take her back for an ultrasound in 2 weeks.  If it has resolved, then she'll only wear it at night, and that will last 6 weeks, then she'll be done.  If it isn't resolved, then we'll repeat again in 2 more weeks, and so on. 

The PA who treated her, asked why Gracie wasn't scanned.  I said because she wasn't breech?  He told us that was only one risk factor, and she meets all the same ones as Bekah, except for being breech. So, I take Gracie this afternoon for her scan. I pray her hips are normal.  This harness is breaking my heart.   Nobody wants to be told there's something wrong with their kids, but after you've lost one, then everything seems much worse.  On the other hand, after what I saw Landon live through, I keep telling myself, "at least it's just a hip.  It could be her brain. Or lungs.  Or heart.  Or brain."  (it was Landon's brain, you see.)

Losing my little boy has definitely tinted how I view the world.  I'm so appreciative of every minute I have here with my babies.  I am so tolerant of their cries, they don't bother me a bit.  I see mom's on a baby board I belong to, griping about their babies crying.  It hurts, because I had one that couldn't cry.  I'm so thankful that they CAN cry, and I wish everyone could be grateful when they hear their babies cry, that's a sign that the baby is most likely fine.


Rebekah

Gracie

A double *Rainbow*

My life is good. 

Time Flies!

My babies are amazing.  They turned a month old on the sixth.   I'm sorry I've not updated, but, well, I've been a little busy!!

The night before my c-section, we went to eat my "Last Supper."  My mom, brother, sister-in-law, their 2 kids, Larry, me and Aidan all went to Lone Star.  I was WADDLING!  I'm glad I ate so well, because I didn't get any more solid food til Thursday Afternoon (that was Tuesday night!)

We came back home, my Mom spent the night with us, to be here with Aidan the next morning while we were getting ready.  It was our last night as a family of three.  Even saying that sounds wrong,  we should have been a family of four, soon to be six.  Landon, and what happened to him, was heavy on my mind and in my heart as I drifted off to sleep.  There were many prayers, not just that night, but the entire time I was pregnant.  Believe it or not, I slept really well that night.  I figured I would be up all night, worrying, but I did great.  

I got up the next morning, got ready, even put on make up!!  We had to be there at 10:15, surgery at 12:15.  I was ok til I got there.  Then the nerves kicked in. 

If you have read previous entries, do you remember where I mentioned Jenny, the nurse who delivered Aidan?  I forgot to mention in Landon's story, she was also with me for his delivery, and came to his funeral.  How amazing, and fitting, is it, that she was with me for this delivery?  She was also with my sister-in-law for my niece's birth!  She has been a part of so many happy and sad times, and I thank God for putting her in our path.  Anyway, with her being my nurse, that helped my nerves somewhat, she KNEW what I had been through, and knew I would be terrified.

At around 12:20, I was pushed into the OR and given a spinal.  I didn't like it too much at first.  But, I knew it was that, or be asleep when my babies were born.  The doctor had already made the incision when Larry was brought in.  It was the same room where Landon was born.  I was asleep for that, but Larry had to be brought in there, to see our baby being given CPR.  I  know that it was very hard on him to be back in that room again.  It was hard for me, too, although the only memory of that room I have is of praying with Dr. Patel before I was put to sleep.

So, if you're still with me, I know you're wanting to know the details of my babies!  Rebekah was born first, and she cried immediately, which was the best thing in the world, but her little cry was so very weak.  My doctor held her up for just an instant for me to see and then passed her off.  I remember him saying, "I don't think she realizes she's been born yet."  Then Gracie came into my world, screaming her head off.  Her scream was as different from her sisters as apples and oranges. 

While the doctor worked on putting me back together, Larry went over to where the babies were being checked out.  Rebekah was in bad shape, not breathing right.  Thank GOD I didn't realize it at the time.  That would have been the end of me, I'm sure.  Larry did come over and tell me that the babies might have to go to special care nursery for a bit, because of Bekah's breathing.   The next thing I heard was the neonatologist saying that all was fine, and if their sugars were fine, they could stay with me.  After it was all said and done, I found out that Bekah had fluid in her lungs, but once she was suctioned, she was fine.  Gracie was fine from the get-go.  Bekah weighed 4lbs, 13oz, and Gracie was 5lb10oz.  Much bigger difference in their weight than we had anticipated.

Both little girls are beautiful, heads full of black hair, big blue eyes.  That's where their similarities stop, though.  Bekah is the very image of Larry and Aidan.  She looks so much like my boy as a newborn!!  Gracie favors me, but looks SO much like Landon.  So much so, it takes my breath. 

My little Gracie

Landon

The girls are over a month old now, and both are about 7 and 1/2 lbs or so.  They've done great.  Neither needed any special nursery time, and both got to come home with me!!!  Thank you, God!

Having my girls has been fantastic, wonderful, amazing, and healing.  However, it has also awaken my grief to a degree.  Not anything terrible or anything, but all these little Mommy things I have the priviledge of doing with my girls, I never got to, or if I did, I never will again get to, do them with Landon.  I am so very thankful that I get this chance with Bekah and Gracie, I just wish I had Landon here with us.

If Landon had lived, I would have 4 kiddoes under the age of three!!  Wow! 

Aidan is crazy over the babies.  He loves them so much.  Sometimes I'm afraid it's too much.  If I had a dime for every time I say, "EASY!"  I would be a wealthy woman. 

I'm a happy woman.  I'll always miss my littlest boy, but I think he'd be OK with me being happy.  I love him so much, and I love Aidan, Bekah and Gracie so much, and I'm so in love with Larry.  It's a good life.  I am blessed.


Bekah

Gracie




My double Rainbow



My whole World

Almost Time!

In just 4 days, I will have my baby girls in my arms, Lord willing.  They're measuring over 6lbs each by ultrasound, and I've been showing signs of labor, so the doctor went ahead and scheduled me in for Wednesday, April 6th for my repeat c-section.  I'm excited. I'm scared.  I'm ready.  I'm not ready.  Oh, the thoughts whirling around in my head!!

I can't share my excitement about my upcoming birth, without telling the agony and sadness of my last birth. 

My pregnancy with Landon was almost as textbook perfect as it was with Aidan.  Almost.  I had some bleeding between 9-10 weeks, that showed up as being a bleed behind the placenta on ultrasound. I was scared out of my mind.  I was told it would either resolve itself or I'd miscarry.  There was a perfect little heartbeat.  He already LOOKED like a baby on that screen.  I surely didn't want to miscarry.  I prayed day and night to continue the pregnancy.  I WANTED this baby.  Yes, my first baby was still awfully young, but I was so excited to have them so close in age.  I had a follow-up ultrasound at around 15 weeks, and everything looked perfect, and I was having another little boy!!!  Nothing could have knocked the smile off of my face as I left the office that day.  Just like with Aidan, we had him named before we even got home.  Landon James Fletcher.  My little Landon.  What would he look like? Would he be as sweet as his brother?  Would he be as attatched to Mommy as Aidan was (and still is)?  Would he look like Larry and Aidan, or was I going to have a baby that looked like me?  We threw ourselves into getting ready to be parents to two little boys.  I was due July 1.  By the end of February, we were ready to have a baby.  The second nursery was complete, all the way from brand new furniture to millions of clothes, washed, folded, hung up and put away. We stocked up on pampers swaddlers.  Cases and cases of tiny diapers.  All I had left to do was wait.

At my 20 week anatomy scan, Landon was still very much a boy, and it was discovered that I had an extremely low-lying placenta.  It was within a millimeter of being diagnosed as previa.  I was scheduled for one final scan at 34 weeks, to determine if it had moved up, or if I'd need a c-section.  At that scan, everything was absolutely perfect.  Placental placement was beautiful, baby measured over 5lbs, blood flow in and out of baby was spot-on.  Cant' ask for anything more!!!

I was, by this time, in the window of weekly ob visits.  Every week, everything was right on track.  I wasn't gaining any weight, but I have a lot of extra anyway.  My belly and uterus were growing right on target.  At my 38 week appointment, on a Wednesday in June, we scheduled an induction for the next Friday, as I'd be 39 weeks exactly.  Saturday, June 20th, I cooked supper for my brother and sil, they both have June birthdays.  We had tacos and home made salsa.  I didn't feel Landon moving, but I had been very busy all day, cleaning and cooking.  My mom gave Aidan a bath for me that night, and when I sat in  my recliner, I felt him give a big kick. 

To the best of my memory, that was the last time I ever felt him.  Sunday, the 21, my brother's actual birthday,  I was worried, but remembered the previous day, and how at night I finally felt him.  So, I put it off.  Monday morning I was FREAKED.  Everyone was telling me,"Babies slow way down right before they're born".   I finally called the doctor and was sent straight to Labor and Delivery.  Landon had a heartbeat, but it was half what it should have been. 

I was rushed into emergency surgery. I woke up screaming and begging for my baby, and no one would tell me anything.  Nothing at all. 

Finally some neonatologist came and told me my baby was brain dead.  There was really nothing that could be done, but there was one new treatment that had been shown to help.  He'd still be severely retarded.  He recommended I let him die naturally.  Heck no.  I wanted to give my littlest son every chance. 

He only weighed 6lbs, should have been over 8 judging by that last ultrasound.  Something bad had gone wrong at the end of my pregnancy, something invisible, that we didnt' detect. 

Landon lived on life support for 14 days.  The doctors and nurses finally convinced me that he was going to die anyway, and I was only prolonging his suffering by keeping him on the machines.  He was so pretty, he looked so perfect.  I finally gave my consent to let him go to Jesus. 

My baby was born at 1:53 p.m. on June 22.  He went to heaven at11:52 on July 6th.  I had him for 14 days and ten hours.   I held him a lot of that time.  I was holding him when he grew wings.  He still lives in my heart.

We buried him on top of my beloved grandfather. 

There were a ton of people at the funeral.  Everyone came to show us love and support. 

The day after he died, I had to go to my OB office to pick up some medicine samples.  My doctor was there.  I hadn't seen him at all since everything happened,  he wasn't on call when Landon was born.  He sat me down, told me how sorry he was, he had been over and over my chart, and there were no warning signs.  I knew that.  I have never blamed him. 

He said that pathology on my placenta showed a lot of dead tissue (infarctions) that led to decreased blood flow to the baby.  He wasn't getting enough oxygen to keep his organs healthy, wasn't getting enough nutrients to grow.  Doc said that by comparing his birth weight to the estimated weight from that last ultrasound, things had been going bad for about 2 weeks.

They didn't expect for that to be an issue in any future pregnancies, but I needed to wait 6 months to try again, because of the c-section. 

I miss my littlest son.  I can't tell you how perfectly beautiful he was.  He did look like me.  He opened his eyes.  He moved his arms and legs.  But, none of it was voluntary or controlled.  Just spasms. 

I wish that no one ever had to know how it feels to watch their child die.   There's nothing worse in all the world. 

So, as I sit here with 4 days left in my last pregnancy ever, my mind keeps going back to that time.  I just pray for a happier outcome.

I have to say, though. I'm feeling some guilt towards Landon.  My body has managed to get TWO babies to over 6 lbs in 36 weeks... and he had almost 3 weeks longer and only got to 6 on his own.  I love him so much, and always will,  and I'm having a hard time accepting how much I love these little girls.  It just seems unfair to him.  But, I know he's up there, looking down on us, and cheering me on, wanting me to give these girls enough love for him too.

And on one last note, it hasn't escaped my attention that if he had lived, in four days I would be the mommy to four kids under 3 years old.