New Addition

This week has been a whirlwind so far. But luckily in a positive and healing way!
We officially have all the items in the park paid-in-full! So, with the funds we have left and perhaps yet to receive/raise we will beautify and enhance the park for the little ones in Dundurn.
You might have thought by the title of the blog 'new addition' that we bought another fun item for the kids to play with in the park- but no! We actually welcomed 'our' new addition - Gabrielle Cassandra Ryde- to our family Monday November 17th, around supper time!
As we have been overwhelmed with calls, emails, Facebook messages etc etc asking 'how things went', I thought I'd write it once and save myself some energy.

Here's how it went:

'It' - the journey to having Gabrielle, as it were, began last week Sunday. When I went to the hospital with contractions (2nd day in a row). Was told they weren't 'doing' anything (physically) - just driving me crazy :) And to go home and wait some more.
THEN, this Sunday I went to be around 10 p.m. and shortly after those very same contractions came and went through the night, every 1/2 hour to every 15 minutes.
In the a.m. I counted them, coming closer together, with the same level of mild intensity, but not going away. Grant and I had an appointment at the Mall in the a.m. (9) so after taking Aiden to the sitter I headed to the city, and Grant was already in the city at school.
We joked about 'Murphy's Law' that morning, and I left my hospital bag AND camera at home, thinking we did want to have the baby but if we showed up 'prepared to stay' we'd be turned away.
...it worked!
After our appointment (and freaking out our banker! who was worried I might go into full on labour in her office! ha ha), we headed to the hospital.

With a mix of excitement, worry, happiness and great expectations we walked into emergency. While waiting to be 'processed' it hit me suddenly where we were, the last place I held my precious Reece. I looked around and behind me was the room, we were herded into upon our arrival the Emerg. when we followed the ambulance to the city that awful morning. I started to cry, but quickly looked to Grant, hoping that he too, wasn't in the same place emotionally and could be a distraction or source of strength. Luckily he was, he redirected my thoughts unto the task at hand and quickly we were through the processing and upstairs in the maternity ward hooked up to a fetal monitor (my favourite machine in the world) watching my contractions come and go.
I was 2 cm a resident told me, and so, the waiting game began. Drs were hoping the contractions would stop and we could get a few more days out of the pregnancy, as having a baby at 36 weeks, although considered full term, is not ideal.
So we waited a few more hours, and then a few more. Nothing changed other than the contractions became a bit more intense near the end.
We had a c-section around 6:30 or so.
We held our breath waiting to hear that first cry, and heard a few little noises but not any full-on screams.
Turned out that as a result of being a c-section baby and perhaps because she was a little early, she was very mucousy and needed a little extra oxygen as breathing on her own was not getting enough oxygen into her blood.
She would need to be watched and therefore would need to be in the NICU.

Here's where the drama begins...

The Saskatoon RUH NICU was full. No room at the Inn. NO VACANCY.
As were Regina and Edmonton.
We were told that she would need to be flown to Calgary with 2 nurses and MAYBE, if there was room in the plane, her Dad!
Obviously we were scared to death to say the least.
After about an hour, a miracle happened.
A NICU baby had graduated into the regular nursery! And there was room for our little one.
Ironicly enough, the very next day, when I went to see her for the first time in NICU we were told she was going to the regular nursery, and was just a little 'pukey' when she ate.

Within 24 hours she was just fine. Small, mind you, but fine.

That was Tuesday a.m.

Yesterday, after they ran standard tests and did a billirubin test to see how bad her jaundice was (it's minimal so far), we were given the go ahead to go home that evening!

And here we are.


Introducing:
Gabrielle Cassandra Ryde
Weight: 6lbs 10oz
Length: 52 cm (20.5 inches)

With Each Step Forward

I'm guessing that by now, people (in general) would be expecting that my grief would be somewhat lessened being that is has been almost 11 months since we lost Reece.

I sit watching the cursor blink, and I'm not entirely sure how to word my thoughts on this contemplation.

I know I had hoped that at sometime I would be blessed with some sort of enlightenment, a moment of bright light and a weight lifted from my heart. Perhaps a vision or dream, that would make me feel 'better', and maybe even convince me of an enchanted afterlife where our Reecey is playing and watching over us in a blissful happiness that could never have been attained here on earth.

But I can't lie. I've had none of this. In fact, for me I think everything is just as it was the morning I lost her.

Certainly, we, I, go about our days, weeks, months. Planning ahead. Trudging through. Towards what I don't know. The calendar keeps moving forward and yet part of us is still stuck in the past.

For some reason when Reece was here I had a fairly clear picture of where life would lead me, and us as a family. I had ideas of where I wanted to go for a career. What I had hoped to see our girls get involved in. What I hoped to see Grant aspire to in his career, and how we would all share in that as a family...

but now

everything went blank December 27th.

Maybe because this year didn't really happen for us. It's like 2008 did not exist. This year was dedicated to Reece and her memory, building a park, Grant busy with a new steady job, but still not 'permanent', Aiden dealing with her anxieties and adjusting to school, and me fumbling through work days, one just like the other, attempting to move us forward out of this rut with a pregnancy, which will soon be over....

then what?

Halloween came this year as always. I was less excited than usual perhaps because it took all the energy I had to try to be excited and not think about how I had looked so forward to last Halloween, when Reece was a lobster and Aiden was Snow White (for the 3rd year in a row!).

Last year, I had left my job with the City to, I suppose, force myself to make a career choice. To find something to pursue as a true 'career'. I was in the middle of an exciting journey. Our family was doing well. Reece hadn't had many ear infections, her health seemed to be turning around. She had less eczema outbreaks, and Aiden was coming into her own. We were in a new community, making friends and everything was full of promise. Grant was finding success and positive feedback from his temp work, which gave us much hope for the year.

We had so much to be thankful for.

This Halloween, we had decided to have a couple friends over, just as adults, dress up and have a few laughs. We didn't realize how hard this 'fun' time was going to be.

It was of course a Friday. Grant got home exhausted from a week of dealing with apathetic teens, running around, coaching etc etc I was wore out from yet another sleepless week, and a long day of being very uncomfortable.

We sat and cried together for a bit. The realization of how things looked before and how they were now, and perhaps scared and unsure of what the future holds hit us, I suppose.

Luckily it was too late to cancel the party. I told Grant it's not going to get easier for us, so we have to just keep going. I said it would be good 'practice' for Christmas. We just have to 'get through it'.

I know it was harder for him. I don't allow myself much time to think about our loss, because I'm pregnant, I can focus completely on this new person, and even if I tried not to, her pushes and kicks force my train of thought her way. Grant does not have that distraction.

We are in two different places right now in our grieving, that is for sure.

I suppose I should re-word that, to be truthful, he is grieving and I am doing everything I can not to.

We had 'family' pictures done a few weeks ago. I wanted this done for a few reasons, one to document the fact that I was pregnant (as not much evidence exists of the fact I had 2 other babies). Also, to get Aiden geared up and excited about her role as the big sister, and also, perhaps to show this baby that we were excited about her arrival before she got here.

I felt bad though, about doing the pictures. Our first ones without Reece. It seems unfair to call them 'family' pictures without her included.
I know it upset Grant as well.
He looks at the pictures and says he's happy with how they turned out... but there is such a pain in his eyes that it almost scares me.
I worry that he won't allow himself to completely open up his heart to this new baby. To maybe protect himself from getting hurt again, or to somehow 'honor' Reece... it's complicated and the mind works in different ways.

Probably a silly worry as anyone the knows him, knows he was meant to be a dad. It's a role that comes natural to him, whether he'd admit it or not. It was part of what drew me to him when we met. Babies (literally little babies) and kids of varying ages are drawn to him. I've witnessed a baby (Rach's daughter Emma) at about 8 mths old crying, not wanting to be comforted by her own grandparents, crawl over to Grant, without him saying a word, and at that time a complete stranger to her; put her arms up and cuddle on his shoulder. The look on her Grandparents faces was priceless.

But he is in a place right now that I wish I could help him out of. And I just hope he doesn't grow to resent me for trying for force us forward but adding this new baby into our family.
God knows that I could never replace or replicate Reece. She was my soulmate and idol. I don't expect to ever have that same connection again.
But we need to somehow keep putting one foot in front of the other, and hope that the pieces of our lives that have been jumbled up, will somehow reform and we'll have a picture of the future again.
A different picture, but at least something to look at.