<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442</id><updated>2011-11-28T11:11:17.842+10:30</updated><category term='stillbirth'/><category term='trisomy 18'/><category term='answers'/><category term='egg donation'/><category term='generosity'/><category term='peace'/><category term='ivf'/><category term='books'/><category term='the story'/><category term='tired'/><category term='memorial'/><category term='loss'/><category term='melancholy'/><category term='guilt'/><category term='infertility'/><category term='ambivalence'/><category term='grief'/><category term='depression'/><category term='children and death'/><category term='foster care'/><category term='envy'/><category term='despair'/><category term='multiple sclerosis'/><category term='fundraising'/><category term='awareness'/><category term='thank you'/><category term='autopsy'/><category term='kindness'/><category term='cemetary'/><category term='knowledge is power'/><category term='pain'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='random thoughts'/><category term='WTF'/><category term='love'/><category term='progress'/><category term='big brother'/><category term='funeral'/><title type='text'>Life Without Caden</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>98</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7370028205753959246</id><published>2010-02-16T15:03:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2010-02-16T15:14:08.241+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Creme de la Creme/New Space</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Hello again my dear friends and readers. I signed in to this account today to submit my &lt;a href="http://www.stirrup-queens.com/2010/01/creme-de-la-creme-of-2009/"&gt;creme de la creme 2009&lt;/a&gt; entry...and in looking at it...I only wrote &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fourteen&lt;/span&gt; entries in the&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt; entire &lt;/span&gt;year last year. Two of which were responses to anonymous comments! There is nothing I can choose from this year that I am particularly proud of, or that were particularly deep. It's quite peculiar looking at it - that an entire year passed me by in the blink of an eye, and without much musing on my little lost one.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How very odd. And a little disappointing.&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;p.s. I know many of you have found me  already in my new space, but if you would like to follow me and haven't  yet rediscovered me, shoot me an email at silly little giraffe at gmail  dot com (no spaces) and I will send you in the right direction :)&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7370028205753959246?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7370028205753959246/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7370028205753959246&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7370028205753959246'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7370028205753959246'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2010/02/creme-de-la-cremenew-space.html' title='Creme de la Creme/New Space'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6311646751215327540</id><published>2010-01-05T22:06:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2010-01-06T12:14:31.162+10:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>For all of you who supported me over the past nearly two years (two years?? its so fucking wierd to think it has been two years...) thankyou.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankyou to those of you who came over from BBC to read my story. For telling me how i opened your eyes to the world of stillbirth.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankyou to those of you who are part of the beloved DBM (deadbabymafia) who came to support me and validate me - that I am not insane...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thankyou to those who came back time after time and mourned Caden's loss with me, raged against the vandals at the cemetary and rejoiced when LB joined us (he's doing well btw)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;I'm not leaving this blog...but I am moving on.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The loss of Caden does not occupy my mind the way it once did. I feel like I have said all the things I need to say, I feel like it is time to move on. When my grief was so raw, the pain so intense, this was a lifeline. I came here to pour my soul onto the screen and work through my grief the only way I knew how...through my words. And through your words I got what I needed. I got a friendly ear listening to my rambling. I got words of love and of support, where I received none IRL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I say a huge thankyou, and assure you that I will be back with updates intermittently. But I am moving onto a new blog - that will encompass every area of my life - where this one has always been, and will always be my special little place for Caden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I would love to list individually all the people who I have met on this special journey and who touched me. But to be honest I went from one blog to another to another and there were so many...so many people who touched my heart. You will always be special to me and I will always remember you all, and your precious little babies gone too soon.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;xxx&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6311646751215327540?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6311646751215327540/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6311646751215327540&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6311646751215327540'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6311646751215327540'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2010/01/for-all-of-you-who-supported-me-over.html' title=''/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7520816459358383424</id><published>2009-10-16T10:58:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2009-10-24T07:24:36.450+10:30</updated><title type='text'>absent but still...</title><content type='html'>Its so hard to know what to write about in here most days. That's why my entries tend to be few and far between. What do you write?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Monday - I miss Caden&lt;br /&gt;Tuesday - I miss Caden&lt;br /&gt;Wednesday - Went out today. Missed Caden.&lt;br /&gt;Thursday - Cried today. I miss Caden.&lt;br /&gt;Friday - Fuck this sucks, why isnt he here with me?&lt;br /&gt;Saturday - Thought about Caden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean really, I dont spend my days in tears. But I do think of him. I don't wallow anymore the way I used to, but I do think of him a lot. More and more as we approach the 2 year mark (still months from now) as i have heard so many people say, year 2 is harder than year 1 and it's true.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This blog was created about him. My other children don't feature here, because this is his place. So it makes sense that I do not write here every day, as I do not have anything new to say about him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He's beautiful, he is missed, and he is a star now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7520816459358383424?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7520816459358383424/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7520816459358383424&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7520816459358383424'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7520816459358383424'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/10/absent-but-still.html' title='absent but still...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3192134986605693624</id><published>2009-10-16T10:46:00.005+10:30</published><updated>2009-10-16T11:02:10.438+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Wave of Light</title><content type='html'>Last night (my time) was Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness/Rememberance Day. We did the Wave of Light at 7pm lighting two candles and leaving them to burn all night. One for our Caden, the other for all of the lost babies  all over the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On FB I posted about it and was overwhelmed by the number of people in my life who were lighting candles for my boy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Much of the time it feels as though we are alone in this journey. That no-one but us is remembering our dear lost ones. And then a few times a year, we see that they are not forgotten, that people remember them with love and affection, even though they do not speak of it on any other day of the year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So thank you to my friends who are burning candles for my boy, may his light never go out.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3192134986605693624?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3192134986605693624/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3192134986605693624&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3192134986605693624'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3192134986605693624'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/10/wave-of-light.html' title='Wave of Light'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2095316116273715542</id><published>2009-09-16T16:39:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2009-09-16T16:43:09.817+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Dear Anonymous (dont you love these entries??)</title><content type='html'>Dear Anonymous (dont you love these entries??)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You said "&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;You cant be serious? Bringing fetal remains into your house.. You must be very upset of course, but that would be prohibited by law i believe.. My science teacher friend lost her baby @ 14 weeks and she had it bottled in formalehyde. At least he was safe there in the house. Yeah, its messed up how ppl do evil things..&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let me stop laughing before I continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ahem. First off - you are a fucking idiot.&lt;br /&gt;Thats mostly all I need to say...but I'll continue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not plan on digging him up and bringing his remains home. Ever heard of cremation? Its this newfangled thing they've been doing for centuries. We will be having him exhumed and cremated.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In case you are too stupid to understand, this is somewhat different to "bottling up" a baby in formaldehyde.&lt;br /&gt;PS are you freaking serious?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't come back now.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2095316116273715542?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2095316116273715542/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2095316116273715542&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2095316116273715542'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2095316116273715542'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/09/dear-anonymous-dont-you-love-these.html' title='Dear Anonymous (dont you love these entries??)'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4924398492745827952</id><published>2009-09-09T14:41:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2009-09-09T14:45:52.788+09:30</updated><title type='text'>ATTENTION: WELL MEANING FRIENDS</title><content type='html'>Thanks for your comments on my last entry.&lt;br /&gt;For the record, it is &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;NOT&lt;/span&gt; the cemetary removing things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is their policy NEVER to remove ANYTHING from the children's garden. They confirmed to me on Monday that nothing had ever been removed by their staff and that it is vandals and disgusting criminals stealing from babies' graves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know you meant well but I hate hearing over and over "oh it was probably the cemetary staff". It makes it feel like people are minimising how &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;disturbing&lt;/span&gt;, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;distressing&lt;/span&gt; &lt;/span&gt;and &lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;disgusting&lt;/span&gt; the whole thing is. It is GRAVEROBBING, people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have a plan, and Caden will not be in that awful place much longer, the place that was supposed to be his peaceful eternal resting place but has become a fearful, scary place. &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are bringing him home.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4924398492745827952?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4924398492745827952/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4924398492745827952&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4924398492745827952'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4924398492745827952'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/09/attention-well-meaning-friends.html' title='ATTENTION: WELL MEANING FRIENDS'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7953004138012464582</id><published>2009-09-07T12:58:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2009-09-07T13:13:08.732+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cemetary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funeral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>What was I thinking?</title><content type='html'>It is midnight and I am in a panic.&lt;br /&gt;I am thinking about everything being taken from Caden's grave yet again. I am thinking about what kind of people would do this. Bad people. Scum. Then I think about how he is out there. With those people doing god knows what in the cemetary. Clearly they aren't there for a good reason. Just to cause pain. And I think about him out there, all alone with them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He isn't safe!&lt;br /&gt;He is my baby and I have left him out there all alone with criminals and disgusting people desecrating his grave!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He isn't safe!&lt;br /&gt;Would I leave my living children in a place with criminals? With bad people?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He isn't SAFE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I think of him lying in his casket, crying out for me. Crying, the way LB does. Wanting me to come and save him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know it is just the shell of him. That his spirit is gone. We felt that the day of the funeral. But I feel him linked to that shell as we all are in some way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I can see him crying for me, scared. So scared. All alone. Wanting to know why I am not there with him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why isn't he home with us?&lt;br /&gt;Why didn't I bring him home?&lt;br /&gt;I have to go and get him.&lt;br /&gt;Bring him home where I can protect him.&lt;br /&gt;What was I thinking putting him in the ground so far away from us? With strangers, with bad people walking over the top of him?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What was I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;thinking&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7953004138012464582?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7953004138012464582/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7953004138012464582&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7953004138012464582'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7953004138012464582'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/09/what-was-i-thinking.html' title='What was I thinking?'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4886703534027306579</id><published>2009-09-06T20:31:00.001+09:30</published><updated>2009-09-06T20:33:32.399+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Heartbreak again</title><content type='html'>We went out to visit Caden today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once again his grave has been stripped bare.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don't know how long I can continue like this, having him there, being violated over, and over again. I can't handle it. Why do people desecrate graves? Why do people steal from dead babies? What on earth would posess you to do that? The toys were weathered. They were verging on ratty due to all the bad weather. Nothing you would want to steal for yourself. Why do it? Why break my heart again?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4886703534027306579?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4886703534027306579/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4886703534027306579&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4886703534027306579'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4886703534027306579'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/09/heartbreak-again.html' title='Heartbreak again'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7409219421798898718</id><published>2009-09-05T21:06:00.001+09:30</published><updated>2009-09-05T21:08:01.180+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Songs for the brother he will never know...</title><content type='html'>Little Bear and I sing softly...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Twinkle twinkle little star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How I wonder what you are&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Up above the world so high&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Just like Caden in the sky&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Twinkle twinkle little star&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;How I wonder where you are.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7409219421798898718?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7409219421798898718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7409219421798898718&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7409219421798898718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7409219421798898718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/09/songs-for-brother-he-will-never-know.html' title='Songs for the brother he will never know...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2600401140156779175</id><published>2009-07-02T16:08:00.007+09:30</published><updated>2009-07-02T16:15:34.429+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Please Vote</title><content type='html'>&lt;p style="font-family: georgia;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt;In memory of Caden, please go to &lt;/b&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.canon.com.au/creativeforacause/Photo/Gallery.aspx?photo=3D3A69845A91DF06" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;" title="http://www1.canon.com.au/creativeforacause/Photo/Gallery.aspx?photo=3D3A69845A91DF06" target="_blank"&gt;http://www1.canon.com.au/creativeforacause/Photo/Gallery.aspx?photo=3D3A69845A91DF06&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:100%;"&gt;&lt;b&gt; and vote to help the Stillbirth Foundation. It takes about 10 seconds to do, but if they win, the Stillbirth Foundation will be able to fund more valuable and desperately needed research into why so many babies continue to be stillborn each year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="font-family: georgia;font-family:Garamond;font-size:100%;"  &gt;Please forward this to anyone you can...it's free, it takes less than a minute, and you could be helping save hundreds of babies like Caden in the future.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Garamond;"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;span style=";font-family:'Times New Roman';font-size:12;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span lang="EN-US"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;Dear Stillbirth Foundation Australia supporters,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt; Canon have created a website entitled “&lt;b&gt;Creative for a Cause&lt;/b&gt;” on which photographers can load photographs that depict a cause Australians are passionate about. The general public is then able to vote for their favourite photograph, and the one with the highest number of votes is the winner. Canon will then donate $60,000 to the charity nominated by the winning photographer. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt; The wonderful &lt;b&gt;Belinda Pratten&lt;/b&gt; of Freeswimmers has entered a beautiful photograph entitled “&lt;b&gt;Humpback Frolic&lt;/b&gt;” and very kindly nominated the &lt;b&gt;Stillbirth Foundation Australia&lt;/b&gt; as the charity should her photograph win. Belinda has creatively and cleverly highlighted two very important causes through this photograph, that of whales and stillborn babies, the first recognised and the latter less so. The Stillbirth Foundation Australia would like to ask you to please do two things which will only take &lt;b&gt;a couple of minutes&lt;/b&gt; of your time: &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt; 1.         &lt;b&gt;Follow the below link to the photograph&lt;/b&gt; (there may be a small delay as the photograph loads) and select “&lt;b&gt;VOTE&lt;/b&gt;” on the bottom right of the screen. You will be asked to verify some letters and for your email address. Please know that Canon use this email address only to ensure that one vote is placed per email address, not for marketing purposes. So, if you have more than one email address, please nominate our photo with each address!&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="text-indent: 36pt;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);font-size:11;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.canon.com.au/creativeforacause/Photo/Gallery.aspx?photo=3D3A69845A91DF06"&gt;&lt;span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://www1.canon.com.au/creativeforacause/Photo/Gallery.aspx?photo=3D3A69845A91DF06" style="color: rgb(102, 51, 255); font-weight: bold;" title="http://www1.canon.com.au/creativeforacause/Photo/Gallery.aspx?photo=3D3A69845A91DF06" target="_blank"&gt;http://www1.canon.com.au/creativeforacause/Photo/Gallery.aspx?photo=3D3A69845A91DF06&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p style="margin-left: 36pt; text-indent: -36pt;"&gt;&lt;span&gt;2.         Then, please &lt;b&gt;forward this email to as many friends and family and associates&lt;/b&gt; as you can. We need as many votes as we can get, and we would love you to use this fabulous electronic web of communication to spread our cause and our need for votes as far as possible. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt; Remember, if “Humpback Frolic” is the most popular photograph, the &lt;b&gt;Stillbirth Foundation Australia wins $60,000&lt;/b&gt;! This amount of money can make a significant difference to reducing the numbers of babies delivered stillborn in Australia through either funding two years of a PhD project or an entire research project – thus providing us with valuable information and the ability to ultimately save babies’ lives. And, all it takes from you is a couple of clicks and a few moments of your time. Please help! &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt; Thank you for your continued support.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt; Kind Regards,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span&gt;Melinda&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);font-size:11;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);font-size:11;" &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(146, 109, 249);font-size:11;" &gt;Melinda Hickin&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(146, 109, 249);font-size:10;" &gt;Office Manager&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(146, 109, 249);font-size:10;" &gt;Stillbirth Foundation Australia&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt; &lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(31, 73, 125);font-size:11;" &gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2600401140156779175?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2600401140156779175/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2600401140156779175&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2600401140156779175'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2600401140156779175'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/07/please-vote.html' title='Please Vote'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-5377540116534513316</id><published>2009-06-16T14:38:00.005+09:30</published><updated>2009-09-07T13:14:14.806+09:30</updated><title type='text'>give me time</title><content type='html'>I love my blog. I do.&lt;br /&gt;I love the people I have met here. I do.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I just can't find the time to get on here at the moment!&lt;br /&gt;Bear with me, hopefully as Little Bear grows and I spend less time trying to settle him I will have the time to come back to full time blogging.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-5377540116534513316?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/5377540116534513316/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=5377540116534513316&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5377540116534513316'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5377540116534513316'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/06/give-me-time.html' title='give me time'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1893371690283572518</id><published>2009-05-29T20:38:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2009-09-07T13:13:51.835+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Our Three Boys</title><content type='html'>Well it has been an awfully long time.&lt;br /&gt;There is, however, a very good reason for my absence.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Little Bear arrived on the 7th March after what felt like a very long, and painful pregnancy. I was fortunate to have a great OB who agreed to induce at 36 weeks and our little man arrived weighing 8lbs 3oz.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He is an absolute joy, but has been occupying most of my time lately! Especially as he has had trouble gaining weight - he has just reached 10lb at 11 weeks old.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But he is a happy baby, smiling and laughing at us (when he feels like it).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can hear you asking "since when was she pregnant??" lol. Well, to be honest we told so few people that some people IRL didnt even know that I was expecting. We only told family and close friends at 26 weeks, and others after he was born! We just didnt want to talk about it at all, it was all just so hard after losing Caden, we talked about it, about him, non stop while I was pregnant, but if anyone asked me anything I gave a short answer and walked away. Pregnancy was just such a shit time for us, always waiting for the other shoe to drop.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But it is all over now and we have a joyful, tiny bear with us now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Plus, this space was always for Caden, and Caden alone. It didnt feel right to talk about my pregnancy here. But I have met so many wonderful people through my blog and I wanted to share this with you.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still think of Caden, but not with the frequency I once did. I still miss him, but have stopped going to the cemetary every week. I have been once since Little Bear was born. I bought him some Easter decorations but never made it out to the cemetary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;LB doesnt take Caden's place, but the hurt has eased a little, I wont lie.&lt;br /&gt;It feels like this is the way it was always supposed to be. Our three boys. Just one of them only had a short time on earth with us, and now he flies with the stars.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1893371690283572518?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1893371690283572518/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1893371690283572518&amp;isPopup=true' title='20 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1893371690283572518'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1893371690283572518'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/05/our-three-boys.html' title='Our Three Boys'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>20</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6158008537368760690</id><published>2009-03-23T14:29:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2009-03-23T14:37:40.671+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Comments on my last post.</title><content type='html'>&lt;em&gt;"whatever. what quality of life do you think that your son would have had if he lived? You have every right to grieve and tell people to kiss your ass. Get pissed at the cemetary and every person whom you feel is not doing enough to hold your hand. Not everyone is wrong and not everyone is his mother. You can't be pissed at the world because it didn't stop the day you buried your son. Only YOUR world did. And those closest to you. The rest of our city...the sun continues to rise. I hope you are finding peace these days. I know you probably don't care what anyone else cares. That's okay. I'm not losing any sleep."&lt;/em&gt;  - Anonymous&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No really. What?&lt;br /&gt;First off what did I do to deserve this?&lt;br /&gt;Secondly, who the hell are you and do I know you?&lt;br /&gt;Thirdly, have the BALLS to leave your name next time.&lt;br /&gt;Lastly, Honestly, your rant made no sense. Please explain it to me??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm at a loss how to feel about this. My first reaction was pure nausea. Just made me feel ill to see someone spew forth such vindictive drivel.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My second reaction, I'm ashamed to say, was to think of a person I know who may have said this. Honestly, I would have thought no-one I know could be so cruel, but I've been surprised before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know most people have had an "Anonymous" experience on these sites...but I've been lucky so far to avoid it. Until now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Honestly...what the hell???&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6158008537368760690?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6158008537368760690/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6158008537368760690&amp;isPopup=true' title='25 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6158008537368760690'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6158008537368760690'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/03/comments-on-my-last-post.html' title='Comments on my last post.'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>25</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1864336672704565530</id><published>2009-03-03T13:22:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2009-03-03T13:25:18.274+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Nothing</title><content type='html'>The day came and went without being anything other than just another day.&lt;br /&gt;Some flowers arrived from K's parents and her sister.&lt;br /&gt;A package arrived from Jamie &amp;amp; Luisa (loved it btw)&lt;br /&gt;One text message from my very best friend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did not make it out to the cemetary at all.&lt;br /&gt;We chose not to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Apparently this does not sit well with certain people who can kiss my ass.&lt;br /&gt;No I did not make it out there.&lt;br /&gt;No we did not take him cake and balloons.&lt;br /&gt;Yes we do feel mildly guilty.&lt;br /&gt;Is it any of your business? NO.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will head out there in a week or so. I just couldn't bring myself to face it last week so I chose not to. That is my perogative. Get off my ass.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1864336672704565530?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1864336672704565530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1864336672704565530&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1864336672704565530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1864336672704565530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/03/nothing.html' title='Nothing'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8756278864333767773</id><published>2009-02-26T10:28:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2009-02-26T10:33:32.534+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Death day</title><content type='html'>Well it has been quite awhile.&lt;br /&gt;Not for any particularly good reason...life has just taken over as it is known to do. We bought a new house and have been frantically trying to renovate it (partly at least) before tenants move into our current house.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Coming up to Caden's birthday tomorrow has been...interesting. I have almost purposely pushed it out of my head despite being reminded by people around me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what we will do to mark the day - probably a cake and some balloons, I know K wants to have dinner at the cemetary, R wants to take pancakes to school to celebrate Caden's birthday (don't ask, I don't understand his logic either!)...but what do I want?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I always assumed that his first birthday would be a big deal. That I would want all our family around to celebrate his little short life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But I find that I just want to be alone and the though of anyone sharing it with us is just not what I want AT ALL.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today is my mum's birthday and also the day that we were told Caden had died, and I was induced. Not too sure how I feel about it, mum wanted me to take the day off work, but for what? To sit around at home alone remembering what I was doing every second of the day this time last year? No thanks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. I should go and do some work though, considering I am here and all...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8756278864333767773?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8756278864333767773/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8756278864333767773&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8756278864333767773'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8756278864333767773'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/02/death-day.html' title='Death day'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6282558847454362578</id><published>2009-01-09T11:50:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2009-01-09T13:00:49.428+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Christmas</title><content type='html'>It has been awhile.&lt;br /&gt;The fact is, like I said, I feel like I have run out of things to say. I've had a few nights of random tears but other than that...life has marched on.&lt;br /&gt;Christmas wasn't as hard as i thought. There were moments where I thought about where we were a year ago and how certain we were that the next year there would be a baby around. There were moments where I really felt him missing...but I was kept so busy with organising Christmas Lunch at our house and renovating the kitchen in time for it - well I just didn't really have any space left in my thoughts for dwelling on what might have been.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went out to see Caden on Christmas Eve with my mum and took him some little gifts. A white reindeer with red and white striped ribbon (our theme this year was red/white candy stripes) - identical reindeer sat on the lunch table the next day. Kim bought him a little red snowglobe, and I got him a little white wooden train. My mum bought the two garden stakes in the second photo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 327px; HEIGHT: 206px" height="543" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/caden/xmas019-1.jpg" width="877" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="WIDTH: 231px; HEIGHT: 373px" height="625" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/caden/xmas009-1.jpg" width="231" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There was only one moment where he was brought up on Christmas, when Kims little cousin was reading her Christmas card (we sign off with all our names) and says "who's &lt;em&gt;Caden&lt;/em&gt;?"&lt;br /&gt;*cue dead silence* and me pretending I didnt hear her because while it didnt bother me in the slightest (we dont see her often and she wasnt at the funeral or anything) I knew that her mother (who was at the funeral) would be mortified and terrified that she had upset me!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No-one gave him any presents - which I kind of expected - like I've said before, I'm fairly sure everyone thinks we are "over it" because we aren't falling in a big messy heap - and it's one of those things people are eager to "put behind them" and never talk about again....&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6282558847454362578?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6282558847454362578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6282558847454362578&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6282558847454362578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6282558847454362578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2009/01/christmas.html' title='Christmas'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/caden/th_xmas019-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1933602131743557961</id><published>2008-12-20T22:39:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2008-12-20T22:47:46.680+10:30</updated><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>I want to write more often but I have hit a wall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The past week has been particularly hard - crying myself to sleep again.  I'm not too stupid to realise that a lot of it probably has to do with facing the holidays without Caden. I have been putting off going out to the cemetary though. We have a little Caden corner in our lounge room that I add things too - but Im too scared to leave stuff at the cemetary again. I do have a few things I need to take out though - but I dont want to go out on Xmas day because I know the cemetary will be packed with people and I'm not down with grief in public.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been considering my options lately though...and i think I want to have him cremated. I know it sounds wierd to exhume him and cremate him now - but I just do not feel that he is safe out there, all alone, with creepy people stealing his toys. It makes me sick. So that is what I will be investigating in the new year. Sorry if that creeps you out. Not my intention.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1933602131743557961?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1933602131743557961/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1933602131743557961&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1933602131743557961'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1933602131743557961'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/12/i-want-to-write-more-often-but-i-have.html' title=''/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4079029457026562543</id><published>2008-12-16T12:01:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-12-16T12:04:27.215+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Full of The Angry</title><content type='html'>The past week or so I was pulled into a depressive state...feeling useless and unnecessary and generally not wanted by anyone for anything. Absolutely anything could send me into tears.&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I felt one of those giant sobs of Caden well up in my chest and I cried for the first time in awhile. Then pushed it away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today I find myself full of The Angry.&lt;br /&gt;I am raging at everything and anything.&lt;br /&gt;Lord help you if you get in my way today.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I could calm myself but I can feel the rage fermenting away inside of me like so many grapes in the hot summer sun. I feel for the person who will cop my rage as it spews out of me at some point this afternoon. I pray it's not my boss...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4079029457026562543?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4079029457026562543/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4079029457026562543&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4079029457026562543'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4079029457026562543'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/12/full-of-angry.html' title='Full of The Angry'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3356598530888609721</id><published>2008-12-07T18:46:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-12-07T19:00:15.617+10:30</updated><title type='text'>hospital</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-family:Arial;"&gt;So I ended up in the hospital on thursday and they decided to keep me in (much to my dismay)&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;. I was born with a soft heart murmur and have had episodes of SVT (supravetricular tachycardia) my whole life, but only once or twice a year. When I'm pregnant I have them more often but still only once a month or every two months.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The other day I had three in one day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I figured someone should look at it, as I never had a Dr look at it before (despite having it my whole life it never really affects me too much so I didn't bother)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The physician said exactly what I already knew - which was that as they are short episodes, always the same, etc etc, they are not a real issue.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He told me that if they keep happening all the time they can give me medication to slow my heart, and will put me on a 48 hr ECG but unless that happens its not necessary. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But man I don't like hospitals anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to, I really did. &lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;Having them bring you food, lie around watching tv...it's totally cool by me!&lt;br /&gt;But this time round I got the one bed without a tv (some crappy sign on the wall said it had been removed for unforeseen circumstances) even though there were plenty of empty rooms they could have put me in, they threw me in the one with no tv and an annoying roommate.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;First off, when I first went in they took me into the room where we were the week before Caden died and the Dr who ended up seeing me told me she was at Caden's birth (I have no recollection) so it was a pretty big kick in the guts for me - plus I was alone because I went straight after work without K...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:black;"&gt;Plus, I dont sleep well away from K.&lt;br /&gt;She left at about 11pm and I sat in the sitting room watching tv for awhile. It was okay, made myself cups of milo intermittently and just watched NCIS and SVU.&lt;br /&gt;Eventually I thought I was tired enough to go to bed, and I think I did fall asleep briefly, but woke up around 1:50am.&lt;br /&gt;After lying there for ages, I got up and got myself something to eat and another cup of milo.&lt;br /&gt;Went back to bed.&lt;br /&gt;Fell asleep briefly.&lt;br /&gt;Woke up again at 3:45am.&lt;br /&gt;Cursed the world.&lt;br /&gt;Fell asleep again.&lt;br /&gt;Got woken up at 6am by the annoying roommate asking for "white bread and a facial towel"&lt;br /&gt;say it with me... "WTF!?!"&lt;br /&gt;Then...Then..at 6 am, she pulls out her cell phone and starts CHATTING in Vietnamese for AGES. DUDE. HAVE SOME RESPECT. WHen K came in to visit, we went down to the sitting room so we didnt disturb her and it was only 10pm. I was so freaking mad.&lt;br /&gt;I was so tired I dozed off again briefly.&lt;br /&gt;Until her husband came in, and they sat there chatting and SLURPING NOODLES at freaking 7am.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;Plus, on top of all that, I could see the room I delivered Caden in from my window (diff floor and wing of the hospital) and there was a light on in the middle of the night - seeing as it was a slow night in the hospital it means more than likely it was another stillbirth (special room) which breaks my heart&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3356598530888609721?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3356598530888609721/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3356598530888609721&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3356598530888609721'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3356598530888609721'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/12/hospital.html' title='hospital'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-539924153387478958</id><published>2008-11-28T12:50:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-11-28T12:54:19.373+10:30</updated><title type='text'>all clear</title><content type='html'>For those of you who remember, my Mother in Law has been battling cancer this year. For those of you who said a prayer for her, who thought of her at any point, who sent positive, healing energy...I thank you from the bottom of my heart.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because 2 days ago we were told by the doctors that she is essentially &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;CURED&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is no trace of the lymphoma and all of her CAT scans and whatnot are pure and clear. She is well again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am thrilled to have some good news at the end of a truly, truly&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; shitty&lt;/span&gt; year.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-539924153387478958?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/539924153387478958/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=539924153387478958&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/539924153387478958'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/539924153387478958'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/11/all-clear.html' title='all clear'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3944150368146428764</id><published>2008-11-20T12:04:00.001+10:30</published><updated>2008-11-20T12:07:56.606+10:30</updated><title type='text'>sick</title><content type='html'>Forgive the radio silence but I have been deathly ill for about a week and a half now. It's supposedly "just a cold" but man, I have never been hit like this by a cold before.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I swear, it's not a cold, it's the PLAGUE!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In amongst all this we are renovating the house which is a HUGE nightmare and my computer/phone/everything has been pulled out of the wall...so no internets for me at home anymore.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I haven't been out to visit Caden since we went out for his 8 month birthday and found it bare. I feel terrible for this because I normally go out quite often. I just can't bring myself to go out there, maybe I'm scared of what I will find this time? I think I'm still mad that other babies toys weren't stolen, and seeing all their treasures still there while mine were taken...well it makes me feel sick to my stomach thinking about it. I can't believe I feel sick when I think about visiting my son...i think this is the worst part about what happened, it has tainted my view of that place, that place that was peaceful and pure to me up until a month ago...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3944150368146428764?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3944150368146428764/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3944150368146428764&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3944150368146428764'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3944150368146428764'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/11/sick.html' title='sick'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1544106570783810417</id><published>2008-11-12T21:44:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-11-12T21:54:50.822+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Dear Anonymous</title><content type='html'>Anonymous. You said to me, on the post about my son's grave being robbed:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;that's poopy.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;however, in all honesty, &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;i don't think it really matters&lt;/span&gt;.  Caden had your love, that's all he ever needed.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;your youngest son is playing in the heavens.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;a) I don't give a fuck what you think.&lt;br /&gt;b) How dare you come to the blog of a grieving mother and tell her that it doesnt matter that her beloved child's grave was ROBBED&lt;br /&gt;c) Ohh so he's in heaven and that makes it all okay?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am so angry right now I could spit. That someone would come here and tell me that I should basically NOT CARE that some fucking asshole STOLE all my baby's wordly goods from his &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;fucking grave&lt;/span&gt;. Lets see her (I assume) bury a child, tend to their grave and then have it &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;raped&lt;/span&gt; in that way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm sorry to be so abrupt. I'm sure it was well intentioned, but seriously. If you have never grieved...dont come here and tell me how to grieve. In fact...even if you have grieved, don't tell anyone else how to grieve, period.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hearing that someone had gone grave robbing that day sent me into a fit of screaming and crying the likes of which had not occured since the day after I gave birth to my tiny dead son. Don't you take that away from me. Don't you tell me that my heart was not legitimately broken that day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Read my blog from the start. Go and read my friends in the stirrup queens blog list.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Educate yourself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1544106570783810417?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1544106570783810417/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1544106570783810417&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1544106570783810417'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1544106570783810417'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/11/dear-anonymous.html' title='Dear Anonymous'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2377598574220119458</id><published>2008-11-11T12:46:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2008-11-11T17:42:30.686+10:30</updated><title type='text'>good then bad</title><content type='html'>Well I had a great weekend...followed by getting sick on Monday :(&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Weekend was a deaf camp weekend which was so much fun, my whole face hurt by the end of it from laughing so much. I met so many new people it was wonderful. I have a whole new group of friends. Everyone signed which was great...no voice allowed for three days, even the hearing people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of the things I love about the deaf community is that there is no pity. Not in a bad way...but...ah, I'll give you an example. Kids are always a hot topic - when you meet someone a usual question is 'you have children?' followed by 'how old' and 'are any of them deaf'?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So the weekend was spent telling a lot of people that I have two children - one is 6yrs old and the other died in February. They almost always just made a bit of a face, the sorry face, but there is no pity, no "oh I'm so &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;sorry&lt;/span&gt;" that I hate so much. Just accepted as FACT. Ahh I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;like&lt;/span&gt; that. I got to talk about him with a lot of people who weren't put off by hearing about him. Didn't feel uncomfortable at the mere mention of a dead child.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Add to that a weekend of a lot of good food, drama performances filled with hilarious men in drag putting makeup on each other, people being monkeys and orangutans...oh my...of course there were a lot of late nights, sitting outside in the freezing cold...could be why I ended up sick on MOnday...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh I woke up on Monday and my throat was killing me. And I had to use my voice because I was at work, but I so wished I was still on camp so that I could just sign instead of having to strain my voice. It hurt so much by the end of the day. I took today off work today and have been lazy all day...ahhh I love it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2377598574220119458?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2377598574220119458/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2377598574220119458&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2377598574220119458'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2377598574220119458'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/11/good-then-bad.html' title='good then bad'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2498833792480009969</id><published>2008-11-06T10:10:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-11-06T10:23:19.830+10:30</updated><title type='text'>into my arms</title><content type='html'>&lt;div align="left"&gt;Not one to post lyrics. But I really have nothing valid to write about and this morning there was a stunning rendition of this on the radio, sung unaccompanied by a Darwin artist and I cried all the way to work. It speaks to me of Caden...&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="left"&gt; &lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;I don't believe in an interventionist God&lt;br /&gt;But I know, darling, that you do&lt;br /&gt;But if I did I would kneel down and ask Him&lt;br /&gt;Not to intervene when it came to you&lt;br /&gt;Not to touch a hair on your head&lt;br /&gt;To leave you as you are&lt;br /&gt;And if He felt He had to direct you&lt;br /&gt;Then direct you into my arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I don't believe in the existence of angels&lt;br /&gt;But looking at you I wonder if that's true&lt;br /&gt;But if I did I would summon them together&lt;br /&gt;And ask them to watch over you&lt;br /&gt;To each burn a candle for you&lt;br /&gt;To make bright and clear your path&lt;br /&gt;And to walk, like Christ, in grace and love&lt;br /&gt;And guide you into my arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I believe in Love&lt;br /&gt;And I know that you do too&lt;br /&gt;And I believe in some kind of path&lt;br /&gt;That we can walk down, me and you&lt;br /&gt;So keep your candle burning&lt;br /&gt;And make her journey bright and pure&lt;br /&gt;That she will keep returning&lt;br /&gt;Always and evermore&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms, O Lord&lt;br /&gt;Into my arms&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div align="center"&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;embed src="http://www.youtube.com/v/8owifmb8n2s&amp;amp;hl=" width="425" height="349" type="application/x-shockwave-flash" fs="1&amp;amp;rel=" color1="0xe1600f&amp;amp;color2=" border="1" allowscriptaccess="always" allowfullscreen="true"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2498833792480009969?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2498833792480009969/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2498833792480009969&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2498833792480009969'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2498833792480009969'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/11/into-my-arms.html' title='into my arms'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-5582687284235213777</id><published>2008-10-31T19:30:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-10-31T19:46:39.484+10:30</updated><title type='text'>dia de los angelitos</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;It has been a very trying day. On top of Rory getting in MORE trouble at school, I spent all day trying to track down orange marigolds for my &lt;em&gt;ofrenda&lt;/em&gt; and the bakery I was getting my sugar skulls from sold out because I am &lt;strong&gt;stupid&lt;/strong&gt; and didn't reserve them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;However, I have a princess in shining work boots who went into the city on her way home and got me an alternative :o)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Of course there is a pez dispenser (K collects them) with candy, the angels from Aunty Chrissy and Nanny Coral, the charm from Michelley, the gown he wore when he was born, cranes made the day of his funeral and his name blocks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After what happened at the cemetary last week, I dont feel comfortable leaving offerings there so I will light incense at his grave tonight, and burn the same incense at home to guide his spirit back to us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Next to my little ofrenda is a shelf with my scrapbook and many tiny glass angels to represent all of the tiny lost babies I have come to know this year. If you are in my deadbabymafia...your baby is there in tiny glass angel form.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does anyone else celebrate &lt;a href="http://www.ddfolkart.com/articles/thedayofthedead.htm"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dia de los Muertos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt; and &lt;a href="http://vivasancarlos.com/angelitos.html"&gt;&lt;em&gt;Dia de los Angelitos&lt;/em&gt;&lt;/a&gt;??&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="width: 480px; text-align: center;"&gt;&lt;embed type="application/x-shockwave-flash" wmode="transparent" src="http://w342.photobucket.com/pbwidget.swf?pbwurl=http://w342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/46b525cd.pbw" width="480" height="360"&gt;&lt;/embed&gt;&lt;a href="http://photobucket.com/slideshows" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;a href="http://s342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/?action=view&amp;amp;current=46b525cd.pbw" target="_blank"&gt;&lt;img src="http://pic.photobucket.com/slideshows/btn_viewallimages.gif" style="border-width: 0pt; float: left;" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-5582687284235213777?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/5582687284235213777/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=5582687284235213777&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5582687284235213777'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5582687284235213777'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/10/dia-de-los-angelitos.html' title='dia de los angelitos'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-533684344499230722</id><published>2008-10-30T20:31:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-10-30T20:43:07.091+10:30</updated><title type='text'>no-one cares</title><content type='html'>I have come to realise that no-one really cares about Caden but us.&lt;br /&gt;No-one has ever commented on his anniversary days (not including my amazing online friends who remember him and us every single month).&lt;br /&gt;I commented to my mother just the other day that the 27th is a hard day for me. Her response?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"What...every month?!?"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Err, yes every month. It's only been 8 months, not 50 years. And besides, I'm fairly sure I will still think of him on the 27th of every month 50 years from now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You know how I said my SIL would go nuts? She didn't. No-one seems to understand the magnitude of what happened the other day. Of someone raping his grave in that way. I feel violated. I feel like he isn't safe there anymore. I wanted to run out there the other day, dig him up and take him home with me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The explosion of emotion I felt at hearing those words over the phone, the way I simply broke down, shocked me. I fully did NOT expect to react that way, it caught me by such surprise.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-533684344499230722?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/533684344499230722/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=533684344499230722&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/533684344499230722'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/533684344499230722'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/10/no-one-cares.html' title='no-one cares'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8945111107148524960</id><published>2008-10-28T10:39:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-10-28T11:09:02.132+10:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WTF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cemetary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>gone **update**</title><content type='html'>So it was not the cemetary that removed Caden's belongings. I expected that they had taken them while doing maintenance, but I know they are quite respectful so I assumed they would be in the front office, hopefully kept in a bag together. I was upset at seeing it bare on his 8 month birthday, but figured when I rang in the morning we ould sort it out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a few other, more strange ideas of what happened - that perhaps the cemetary took it in an attempt to get us to finally pay for a plaque for the site. I planned on calling every newspaper in town and telling them how the cemetary were discriminating against us. I was going to create a blog dedicated to badmouthing the cemetary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I thought - perhaps someone will try to ransom us. It's fairly easy to track down the family of the babies. Ring us and say "we have all his belongings. How much will you give us".&lt;br /&gt;My general thought on how I would respond to this would involve "I'll give you an arrest warrant and a very pissed off Auntie with a gun who is legally allowed to shoot you in the nuts if she deems it necessary. She will deem it necessary."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So with all these wild thoughts in my head, I ring the cemetary.&lt;br /&gt;"Hi I am wondering why my son's grave has been stripped bare"&lt;br /&gt;He says "I've already had 4 other families ring in and I can tell you it was not the cemetary..."&lt;br /&gt;Cue me screaming and sobbing and throwing myself on the floor.&lt;br /&gt;In the middle of my office.&lt;br /&gt;Which is not an office but a cubicle on a floor with 20 other people.&lt;br /&gt;Possibly on phone calls to clients.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got my mother to ring them back and ask WTF.&lt;br /&gt;Apparently the cemetary was 'vandalised' on the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;The perinatal section was targeted.&lt;br /&gt;Who the fuck does that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I get stealing the pretty toys, the new things, people are sick.&lt;br /&gt;But WHY take the broken windmills?&lt;br /&gt;WHY take the broken glass ornaments?&lt;br /&gt;(broken in the LAST vandalism attack)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I mean come on. What is the purpose of that?&lt;br /&gt;Apparently one other father rang up and said "Why the FUCK would someone steal a &lt;em&gt;half burnt candle!?!"&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will never know. But I can tell you this. My SIL will have a fit. She will go &lt;strong&gt;insane. &lt;/strong&gt;She also has a gun (cop). All our friends are police too. I foresee some kind of operation going on (I'd love to say I'm kidding, but I'm just not).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is the world coming to?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8945111107148524960?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8945111107148524960/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8945111107148524960&amp;isPopup=true' title='18 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8945111107148524960'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8945111107148524960'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/10/gone-update.html' title='gone **update**'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>18</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8813358231147899415</id><published>2008-10-27T19:00:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-10-27T19:03:41.024+10:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='WTF'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cemetary'/><title type='text'>gone</title><content type='html'>I have just been out to visit Caden's grave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is stripped bare. There is nothing left.&lt;br /&gt;All of his toys, windmills and gifts are gone.&lt;br /&gt;The gifts my SIL brought back from London.&lt;br /&gt;The gift I bought him for his 6 month birthday.&lt;br /&gt;The windmill we bought on Mothers Day.&lt;br /&gt;The teddy his brother picked out for him.&lt;br /&gt;I feel sick to my stomach and I don't understand.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Happy 8 month birthday Caden.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything you own is gone.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8813358231147899415?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8813358231147899415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8813358231147899415&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8813358231147899415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8813358231147899415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/10/gone.html' title='gone'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6924259740416898544</id><published>2008-10-24T15:28:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-10-24T15:46:11.030+10:30</updated><title type='text'>unbelonging</title><content type='html'>I have had a rough week or so, hence my absence. Well it's been a few weeks now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I don't fit in somehow in this, my beloved deadbabymafia. I am not like so many of the deadbabymoms I love so much. I do not pine for Caden. I do not think of him and cry every day. I do not write him letters, I do not speak to him. Sometimes I do go and lay on his grave and stroke the grass but that's about as close as it gets.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have often wondered whether I am in some form of long term delayed denial. It did not take me long to reach full acceptance of his death. I did not react in the way that I assumed I would, should a tragedy such as this strike my family. I assumed I would be a bawling mess and that I would never get over it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As we sat in that hospital room, less than an hour after being told he was dead, I looked at my partner in horror and said "How will we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;ever&lt;/span&gt; get over this?"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The answer is - we will. And it won't take long.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh I had a good month or so where I would break into this raw grief, this primal, guttural roar of sobs would break free without warning or any kind of control. It would exit my body and I would feel lighter afterwards. Each time lasted a little less.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has been over 6 months since I cried with such ferocity.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now the tears fall silently as I watch videos of other babies gone too soon. The tears fall as I think of him. They fall quietly, and they are gone as quickly as they arrived.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fully accept that our boy was never meant for this earth.&lt;br /&gt;I fully accept and understand that he was never going to grow with us.&lt;br /&gt;I fully accept that he achieved all he needed to achieve in those 37 weeks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I do not grieve for him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I wish I had another day with him? Of course.&lt;br /&gt;Do I love him? Unconditionally.&lt;br /&gt;Do I ache for him? I don't think so.&lt;br /&gt;Do I scream and cry at how unfair life is? No.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Does this make me feel like a freak? You betcha.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6924259740416898544?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6924259740416898544/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6924259740416898544&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6924259740416898544'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6924259740416898544'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/10/unbelonging.html' title='unbelonging'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-407422970194947039</id><published>2008-10-10T14:27:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2008-10-10T14:35:55.139+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Another photo blog</title><content type='html'>I'm stuck for things to say today...and lately. I feel like I &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;should&lt;/span&gt; write, which is making me stubbornly not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to write.&lt;br /&gt;Just got back from a short holiday...good times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 374px; height: 251px;" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/yorkes087.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 375px; height: 248px;" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/yorkes085.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No Squid :(&lt;br /&gt;But plenty of blue crab&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 384px; height: 256px;" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/yorkes096.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And Starfish :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 384px; height: 255px;" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/yorkes077.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just realised our finds are blue and orange...Caden's colours. How glorious.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-407422970194947039?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/407422970194947039/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=407422970194947039&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/407422970194947039'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/407422970194947039'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/10/another-photo-blog.html' title='Another photo blog'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3826334870463654646</id><published>2008-10-08T00:19:00.000+10:30</published><updated>2008-10-08T00:20:59.625+10:30</updated><title type='text'>Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day: Take Action</title><content type='html'>October 15th is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day in the United States. More than 25,000 children are stillborn in the United States every year leaving mothers, entire families and communities devastated. Estimates of the rate of occurrence of stillbirth make it at least as common as autism.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Stillbirth is not an intractable problem. Greater research would likely significantly reduce its incidence, but good research requires good data. H.R. 5979: Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act is under consideration by Congress. This proposed bill would standardize stillbirth investigation and diagnosis, thus providing more data for the needed research. Better research means fewer children born still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On October 15th, remember the thousands of unfinished children lost and the families who remain to grieve them. Honor them by taking action. Let's help pass H.R. 5979.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Action Steps:&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 1. Use Your Blog to Enlist Others&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Copy the contents of this entire post and publish it on your blog immediately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GOAL:&lt;/strong&gt; Enlist 10 of your readers to spread the word&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 2. Use Your E-mail to Enlist Others&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-E-mail 5 bloggers and ask them (nicely and in an unspammy way) to publish these action steps on their blog. Consider contacting celebrity bloggers, political bloggers, medical bloggers, or bloggers who are not part of your reading community.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GOAL&lt;/strong&gt;: Enlist 3 bloggers outside of your normal blog sphere to spread the word in other online communities.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;Step 3. Help Pass the Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-By October 15th, publish a post on your blog supporting H.R. 5979 Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act. For maximum impact, title your post: "Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;strong&gt;GOAL:&lt;/strong&gt; &lt;strong&gt;1,000,000&lt;/strong&gt; Google results on October 15th when that term is searched for. Currently, Google only returns 20,400 pages - most of which have nothing to do with the bill.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3826334870463654646?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3826334870463654646/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3826334870463654646&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3826334870463654646'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3826334870463654646'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/10/pregnancy-and-infant-loss-remembrance.html' title='Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day: Take Action'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6671350232706947510</id><published>2008-09-23T15:15:00.001+09:30</published><updated>2008-09-23T15:20:51.474+09:30</updated><title type='text'>A day in photos - Caden's 6 months</title><content type='html'>&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos177.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos179.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos189.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="320" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos191.jpg" width="240" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos194.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos199.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos200.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos208.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos223.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img height="240" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/photos231.jpg" width="320" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6671350232706947510?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6671350232706947510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6671350232706947510&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6671350232706947510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6671350232706947510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/09/day-in-photos-cadens-6-months_23.html' title='A day in photos - Caden&apos;s 6 months'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7456121799457673752</id><published>2008-09-19T14:12:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-09-19T16:14:34.564+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Best excuse for not blogging...</title><content type='html'>Hello all :)&lt;br /&gt;Well its been a hell of a week out here...I wasnt able to get the photos up because on Monday one of my remaining wisdom teeth started to hurt.&lt;br /&gt;By Tuesday it was infected.&lt;br /&gt;By Wednesday I was screaming in pain.&lt;br /&gt;By early Thursday morning I was in the ER because the swelling spread to my throat!&lt;br /&gt;So I had oral surgery yesterday - and I tell you what - I feel so much better today. Im still in a lot of pain but nothing compared to Wednesday. I tell you, Ive given birth twice - and this was WORSE.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I still didnt sleep much last night but compared to the 40 minutes I got on Wednesday - well, I feel almost human again. This afternoon I was able to start talking again, but I still can only open my mouth 1cm so gettting food in is an issue - havent really eaten since Tuesday!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I did have a good excuse :)&lt;br /&gt;Photos to come...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7456121799457673752?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7456121799457673752/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7456121799457673752&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7456121799457673752'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7456121799457673752'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/09/best-excuse-for-not-blogging.html' title='Best excuse for not blogging...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-244026588747893</id><published>2008-09-15T10:05:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-09-15T10:18:54.309+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cemetary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><title type='text'>6 months + 19 days</title><content type='html'>So I've been a bad blogger.&lt;br /&gt;I haven't actually been online at all in weeks.&lt;br /&gt;Aside from checking my emails, I've just taken somewhat of a hiatus. Not one I'm entirely happy with, I desperately miss my online community of support, but there are some things going on in my life right now that I'm not entirely comfortable discussing in 'public arenas' such as my blog, or message boards, so I've just been keeping quiet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I did end up going out to visit Caden on his 6 months.&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to be there for 14:41 - the time he was born, but at that exact moment I was driving there and actually, swearing at a car for cutting me off!&lt;br /&gt;I got 6 balloons in his colours (orange and blue) and wrote some messages for him. I think I wrote a little too much on one of them as it exploded in my hands...I lay with him for awhile, then sent up his balloons.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the strangest thing, as I walked into the Children's Garden I got this strong smell, and it was JUST like he smelled on the second day after he was born (I think it was the laundry detergent they used to wash his gown and blanket overnight)&lt;br /&gt;As I was walking out I had the same smell.&lt;br /&gt;So I climbed into the garden and sniffed the blossom trees at the entrance. It was like smelling Caden. I still can't get over just how much it smelled like him. I did a naughty thing and broke off a small branch to take home for Kim (and to sniff on the way home)&lt;br /&gt;Makes me sound a little insane doesn't it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have photos at home, will post them tonight.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-244026588747893?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/244026588747893/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=244026588747893&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/244026588747893'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/244026588747893'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/09/6-months-19-days.html' title='6 months + 19 days'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-5575802349355965400</id><published>2008-08-27T12:00:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-08-27T12:09:45.055+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>feels like forever, feels like yesterday</title><content type='html'>At this time, 6 months ago, I was in labour with Caden.&lt;br /&gt;I was sitting in that hospital bed, talking to Kim, wishing and pretending that what was happening, wasn't happening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In less than three hours it will mark 6 months since I gave birth to my tiny, dead, son.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I should be making a big deal of this day. That it is some "milestone".&lt;br /&gt;Maybe if he had been born alive.&lt;br /&gt;But without him, well it's just another day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-5575802349355965400?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/5575802349355965400/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=5575802349355965400&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5575802349355965400'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5575802349355965400'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/08/feels-like-forever-feels-like-yesterday.html' title='feels like forever, feels like yesterday'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8780906088271921608</id><published>2008-08-19T13:13:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-08-19T13:16:00.209+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='progress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>the scent of grief</title><content type='html'>I have a candle that an online friend sent me after Caden died.&lt;br /&gt;It sits on our Caden Cabinet in our family room.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It had such a strong scent in the room for months. Every day I would get a strong smell of it and smile and think of Caden. Recently though, I haven't smelt it at all, until out of the blue three times in the past week. Incidentally, I have had a few rough "caden moments" in the past week as well, where I broke down and cried for the first time in quite a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The candle, and its scent, is a lot like my grief.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It comes and goes in short waves, it was stronger in the first few months, and now it is always there, I just can't always smell it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8780906088271921608?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8780906088271921608/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8780906088271921608&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8780906088271921608'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8780906088271921608'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/08/scent-of-grief.html' title='the scent of grief'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6469413174602448775</id><published>2008-08-15T10:21:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-08-15T10:29:46.710+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Why I Hate the Term "Stillborn"</title><content type='html'>Some things really bother me. One of them is the use of the term "stillborn".&lt;br /&gt;I HATE when people say "Oh the woman who had &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;a stillborn&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;For me it is completely different to saying "Oh the woman whose baby was stillborn"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Calling them "stillborns" PISSES ME OFF.&lt;br /&gt;They are not a different breed.&lt;br /&gt;They are not a different species.&lt;br /&gt;They are BABIES.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, babies who were not born alive but I hate the way people refer to them as if they are so fundamentally different.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yes, I also hate when people refer to "the gays", "the aborigines" etc.&lt;br /&gt;They are gay PEOPLE. Aboriginal PEOPLE. STILLBORN &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;BABIES&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Not just "stillborns"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To me it puts them in another category, a lesser category than all the other babies.&lt;br /&gt;I was just reading an online forum about stillbirth and miscarriage where a woman said "I have just stumbled across a post by a woman who &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;had a stillborn&lt;/span&gt; at 38 weeks" - and I wanted to strangle that woman. She did not &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;have a stillborn&lt;/span&gt;. She had a &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;baby&lt;/span&gt;. She did experience a stillbirth, but she didnt have a stillborn. Don't ask me why it's different, but to me it is, and to me that is so freaking offensive.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm aware I make no sense.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6469413174602448775?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6469413174602448775/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6469413174602448775&amp;isPopup=true' title='17 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6469413174602448775'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6469413174602448775'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/08/why-i-hate-term-stillborn.html' title='Why I Hate the Term &quot;Stillborn&quot;'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>17</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-5272601728750698688</id><published>2008-08-13T09:08:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-08-13T10:08:05.305+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cemetary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children and death'/><title type='text'>'seeing' caden</title><content type='html'>R has been asking about heaven again. I know he thinks about Caden but sometimes I would love to know what really goes on in his head, how he is working through it. He generally just comes out with comments about heaven randomly out of nowhere.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One thing that made me lol the other day - we were driving past a cemetary (not caden's) and R asked whether God had the biggest 'heaven stick'. I was so confused.&lt;br /&gt;"Heaven stick?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yeah, heaven stick."&lt;br /&gt;I must speak 6-yr-old because I figured it out pretty fast - he was talking about the gravestones at the cemetary!&lt;br /&gt;Then I had to explain why God wasn't buried in a cemetary...why do kids ask the hard questions?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to see Caden last week. It was the first time I've been out there in awhile. The last time I went was with Kim and we noticed that the grass was overgrown around his marker, I'm guessing because the caretakers didn't want to move his toys to mow. I was happy about that, but then I kept meaning to go out with a pair of scissors and tidy it up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I went out last week it was all clipped and there was a new car there for Caden...looks like my SIL made her way out there :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="width: 394px; height: 515px;" src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/caden/photos017-1.jpg" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Had a long chat with him for probably the first time in over 4 months...I'm not the type that sits and 'talks' to him the way I know some people do. I guess I feel a bit foolish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While I was out visiting Caden there they were digging another baby sized grave...why does it never end?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-5272601728750698688?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/5272601728750698688/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=5272601728750698688&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5272601728750698688'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5272601728750698688'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/08/seeing-caden.html' title='&apos;seeing&apos; caden'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/caden/th_photos017-1.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1419184180904590976</id><published>2008-08-01T14:35:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-08-01T14:53:53.846+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trisomy 18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Storylines</title><content type='html'>I know it has been a long time.&lt;br /&gt;I just don't know what to write anymore.&lt;br /&gt;Life seems to have just taken over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Watching ER for the first time in ages.&lt;br /&gt;What are the chances of a Trisomy 18 storyline?&lt;br /&gt;Well, look at that.&lt;br /&gt;6yr old with T18.&lt;br /&gt;"Historic case".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What would have happened if Caden lived?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Would it have been better?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Or worse?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1419184180904590976?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1419184180904590976/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1419184180904590976&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1419184180904590976'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1419184180904590976'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/08/storylines.html' title='Storylines'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-912052962090246459</id><published>2008-07-21T13:39:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-07-21T14:01:00.734+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trisomy 18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>Time Traveller</title><content type='html'>I so wish that I could go back in time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Strangely, not back to when I was pregnant, as so many, I'm sure would. But there is no way to change the outcome, our dear baby was never meant for this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;No, what I want to do is go back to the days and weeks following his death. I know I was in a sort of shock, but I was &lt;em&gt;okay&lt;/em&gt; to be there. Sleeping together in the family room. Never really leaving that mattress on the floor for a full two weeks. Just lying, in each others arms, watching tv and tuning the rest of the world out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If I wanted to cry, I cried.&lt;br /&gt;If I wanted to scream, I screamed.&lt;br /&gt;If something was funny, I laughed.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have to worry about being judged, because no-one was there (no-one but my SIL who silently left the room if I started to sob, leaving me in peace to grieve as loudly as I wanted).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I didn't need to hide my broken heart so that people would stop asking if I was ok.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just us, no responsibilities, no contact with the outside world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is possibly the freest I have ever felt in my life. I was given permission - nay I was &lt;em&gt;expected&lt;/em&gt; to grieve. I was expected to fall apart and be a big mess.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now - not so much.&lt;br /&gt;I think people expect me to be over it.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-912052962090246459?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/912052962090246459/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=912052962090246459&amp;isPopup=true' title='22 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/912052962090246459'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/912052962090246459'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/07/time-traveller.html' title='Time Traveller'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>22</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3627110935707443736</id><published>2008-07-15T23:27:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-07-15T23:42:07.926+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children and death'/><title type='text'>Angry at the world, Angry at nothing...</title><content type='html'>I'm so angry. At times I am literally shaking from rage.&lt;br /&gt;It's not directly anger at the deadbaby situation, but I'd have to be incredibly naive to say it's not indirectly related. Just everything is pissing me off at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;In particular, 3 things.&lt;br /&gt;I'm not going to go into it because that just increases the anger and doesn't get my anywhere - just gets me all worked up again!!!&lt;br /&gt;*sigh* it's quite ridiculous really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a sort of fight with Kim the other day.&lt;br /&gt;Slept on the couch.&lt;br /&gt;We're over it now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But the other anger issues - still festering away. I don't know how to deal with it.&lt;br /&gt;I think I need therapy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;"Holding onto anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burnt" - Buddhist quote&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;div style="text-align: center;"&gt;*********************&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just so y'all don't get all worried about me...I'm not all doom and gloom.&lt;br /&gt;Something cute from the other day.&lt;br /&gt;Out of nowhere - R comes out with "Do you think God is letting Caden have rides on Danny?"&lt;br /&gt;"Yes, I think so."&lt;br /&gt;(Danny is our family dog who died of old age last year)&lt;br /&gt;He can be so sweet when he isnt throwing a tantrum over eating his peas...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;Wait a minute.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Isn't it funny how you lose perspective?&lt;br /&gt;I decide to write something cute and not as depressing as I thought I was coming across (people have expressed concern) - and what do I come up with? My son asking whether his dead baby brother is getting to ride our dear old dog.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You never really are the same after your child dies are you??&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3627110935707443736?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3627110935707443736/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3627110935707443736&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3627110935707443736'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3627110935707443736'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/07/angry-at-world-angry-at-nothing.html' title='Angry at the world, Angry at nothing...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3646959565465087387</id><published>2008-07-14T10:17:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-07-14T10:22:05.156+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='melancholy'/><title type='text'>Never will be</title><content type='html'>Hey there - still here, still repressing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Every night I feel the same sensation of tears pricking at my eyes and every night I swallow that lump that rises in my throat and change the subject in my own head. Every night it flashes into my mind. The minute when the doctor said those disgusting words. "I'm sorry (are you, are you really? or is it just your job to say that), your baby's heart does appear to have stopped" (no it hasn't. Check again. CHECK AGAIN).&lt;br /&gt;The panic. God, the panic. My heart stops each time and I have to think of something else quick smart. I am just so fucking sick of crying. Is there no end to the tears we can shed. There should be. If I stop drinking water all together, will that help?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything I think of at the moment has an age attached to it. I think of anything we might do, any events coming up. Caden would have been 5 months old. Caden should have been 8 months old...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Should have been...&lt;br /&gt;Would have been...&lt;br /&gt;Isn't...&lt;br /&gt;Can't be...&lt;br /&gt;Never will be...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3646959565465087387?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3646959565465087387/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3646959565465087387&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3646959565465087387'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3646959565465087387'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/07/never-will-be.html' title='Never will be'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6014667502247088984</id><published>2008-07-09T20:15:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-07-09T22:22:39.721+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trisomy 18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambivalence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>falling apart (literally)</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;my hair is falling out.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;it's incredibly frustrating, and embarrassing actually. I literally leave a trail behind me. ugh. It's not the first time, my hair has done this more than once in my lifetime, I think in times of stress. I'm feeling the stress at the moment. Not stress over Caden though. I feel further away from him than I ever have before. I feel quite "normal". It's strange and I'm not sure how I feel about it yet.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/hair.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;randomness:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Somthing I meant to write ages ago : We saw a friend who lives interstate. She wanted to come out for Caden's memorial but wasn't able to. We saw her for the first time recently. She wanted to see Caden's photos, so I pulled them out. I commented on the fact that I wish they had had a little hat for him to wear, because of the fact that his fontanelle (his soft spot) was big (happens in Trisomy 18 babies) and had sunk in a little. It really bothers me sometimes.&lt;br /&gt;Kate's comment?&lt;br /&gt;"Oh but it's okay, it's not bad...it's &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;him&lt;/span&gt;"&lt;br /&gt;She's right. I loved her in that moment. There is nothing wrong with it. It's how he looked, so why cover it up? It's part of who he is.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I've started going to my acupuncturist again. I cried when I told her about Caden. I had another session today. It was nice. I just love the feeling I get from it. C. is magic.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;quiet times&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been overly quiet online for weeks now. I often WANT to write posts, but I am working a lot lately and have had a LOT of work stress (&lt;a href="http://makeustronger.blogspot.com/"&gt;G&lt;/a&gt;, I totally sympathise with your work issues as I am going through something similar) I used to write entries at work, but I cant do that anymore, and when I get home from work I am just exhausted.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"&gt;I swear I am falling apart.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Physically I mean.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Between my teeth, and my hair falling out, and my eyes...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What, I didn't tell you about my eyes?&lt;br /&gt;About how I am pretty much slowly going blind?&lt;br /&gt;About how I've now been told that I may be too far gone for any kind of laser surgery?&lt;br /&gt;*sigh*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to sit, and think for a few hours. And try to process some of the things I am feeling. I believe I am repressing. Could blow up if left unattended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/Stress-ZebraStripes.png" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6014667502247088984?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6014667502247088984/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6014667502247088984&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6014667502247088984'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6014667502247088984'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/07/falling-apart-literally.html' title='falling apart (literally)'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4136045368146671790</id><published>2008-07-03T14:04:00.006+09:30</published><updated>2008-07-03T14:17:51.936+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ambivalence'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>Turmoil and Ambivalence</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Okay, well I didn't realise I had been gone for so long, but &lt;a href="http://lifewithoutbrenna.blogspot.com/"&gt;Holli&lt;/a&gt; has called me out so here I am!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Nothing dramatic has occured, but my life has become infinitely more complicated with dramas and whatnot, and I have simply not felt that I had anything to say here.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;My life is in turmoil. My job is in turmoil. My family is in turmoil. My heart is in turmoil.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I feel that I am not enough of a mother because I no longer cry every day&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am not a good enough bereaved mother because I do not think of Caden all the time, every day.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am not doing this right. &lt;em&gt;Because I feel okay&lt;/em&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;I have found peace with Caden's passing.&lt;br /&gt;I have found peace with having to wait to ttc.&lt;br /&gt;I have found peace with a lot of things.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;There are, however, the emails about births of friends' babies that pinch. They used to stab me right through the heart, and now that has dulled to a quick pain, followed by ambivalence. I am not thrilled for them, but neither am I angry at them.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;It was my birthday yesterday. I threw a tantrum about having to go out. I am in a "boo hoo I hate my body, I hate all my clothes they make me look FAT" stage again. If I could have gone out in sweatpants I would have. I cried when i got in the car because I just did. not. want. to. go. To my own birthday dinner. I fear I am becoming somewhat antisocial.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;So here I sit, fairly ambivalent about most things in life, with no real emotions one way or another (aside from the infantile tantrums). I promise I will be back very soon, and hopefully with something slightly more insightful to say.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4136045368146671790?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4136045368146671790/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4136045368146671790&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4136045368146671790'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4136045368146671790'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/07/okay-well-i-didnt-realise-i-had-been.html' title='Turmoil and Ambivalence'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8724327673058794229</id><published>2008-06-23T18:20:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-23T18:40:07.593+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>Adaptation</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy? Caught in a landslide. No escape from reality&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Is this really me?&lt;br /&gt;Is this really my life now?&lt;br /&gt;Did my child really die?&lt;br /&gt;At times I find myself going about my daily business and I stop....as the thought hits me that "holy shit. My baby died."&lt;br /&gt;Having been one of those overly dramatic girls who in the past caused many a scene in a high  school drama queen fashion, it feels at times as though this is some story I have concocted. As though it couldn't possibly have happened to me because things like this DO. NOT. REALLY. HAPPEN. And I always considered that if anyone in my close family died, I would just not be able to cope. I would just fall apart and cry all day every day and just be entirely unable to function.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But look at me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My baby is dead. The child I planned, desperately wanted, wished and prayed for, carried for nine loving months, dreamed of, and loved...well he died. Inside me. And I gave birth to him. Dead (that word still brings automatic tears). And yet my life goes on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to visit my child at his &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;grave&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine that?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Can you imagine going along and taking toys, rearranging windmills and flowers at your child's &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;grave&lt;/span&gt;?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How horrific. Who could ever imagine such a thing?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And yet...a quote I heard on tv the other day stands out to me. To paraphrase Nigella Lawson...&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;the human ability to normalise the abnormal, the tragic, is astounding&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has become quite normal to me to visit my son's grave. To take him little token gifts. To water the flowers other parents leave their babies who are also buried there. To read stories of other deadbabymamas. To look lovingly at &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;momento mori&lt;/span&gt; photos of the loved little precious babies who were born too early, born still.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hmm. Isn't is strange how we are able to adapt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8724327673058794229?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8724327673058794229/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8724327673058794229&amp;isPopup=true' title='10 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8724327673058794229'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8724327673058794229'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/adaptation.html' title='Adaptation'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>10</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2333984463610973618</id><published>2008-06-23T12:35:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-23T12:53:53.570+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>where to start...what to do</title><content type='html'>I have let my griefwork go.&lt;br /&gt;I have been ignoring my writing, I have been wrapping myself up in daily life because I felt it was necessary. I have been obsessing. Again.&lt;br /&gt;My eating got out of control. I was eating a few bites of something once a day. I have not eaten more than once a day in months. I started eating again, bits and pieces, and every time I ate, I was in massive amounts of pain. I was sick. Eating actually made me sick. I am working on it. No eating disorder here btw. I want to eat, I just have NO appetite. It is my usual reaction to life events.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I dont know where to start with my writing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I write about going in for an ultrasound - fertility investigation.&lt;br /&gt;About how it felt being in that room, having that u/s, where my last experience involved being told my baby was, in fact, dead.&lt;br /&gt;About how they sent me back out to the waiting room to drink more.&lt;br /&gt;About how there was a mother in there cooing and babbling to her three month old baby...the same age as Caden.&lt;br /&gt;About how she was incessant...about how much pain I was in...about how I wanted to scream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I write about thinking we were going to ttc again...but now we aren't?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I write about crying again?&lt;br /&gt;Do I write about how for some reason I have stopped caring so much?&lt;br /&gt;Do I write about how many things I want to do, and how I have no drive to do them?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Do I write about how last night we found out we are going to face a serious, serious financial problem in the next year?&lt;br /&gt;About how I have no idea how we will manage?&lt;br /&gt;About how I feel like I have no options?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I guess I just did...&lt;br /&gt;I feel useless. I feel...I don't even know how I feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2333984463610973618?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2333984463610973618/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2333984463610973618&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2333984463610973618'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2333984463610973618'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/where-to-startwhat-to-do.html' title='where to start...what to do'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4091625317915219371</id><published>2008-06-19T15:25:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-19T16:03:48.832+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ivf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='foster care'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Okay here it is.</title><content type='html'>I am facing a sort of writers block, in the sense that I just dont know how to get my thoughts onto the screen. There is so much racing around in my head...most of it bad. Most of it I wil not type out here for fear that someone I know will read it. Most of it makes me feel quite guilty.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But here's the long and short of it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm angry.&lt;br /&gt;I'm bitter.&lt;br /&gt;I'm resentful.&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really. Fucking. Tired.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think I need about a week to sleep and think. I have found over the years that I need time to myself to work through my thoughts (I have a lot of them).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But what I can get out basically goes like this, I apologise if it makes no sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am still angry that we cannot do the IVF right now. I feel like everything we have been through, we deserve it. Also, I recently realised what may seem blatantly obvious to everyone but us....it may not work. IVF is not a magic bullet, and there are no guarantees. While on an intellectual level I realise this, I think that emotionally I just think we'll do it and get pregnant straight away. I would like to hope that I would handle a disappointment on our first cycle, or our second cycle, etc. but I'm just not sure, after the way I handled (or didnt handle) the IVF appointments over the weekend.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. I think I am coming to terms with the wait. Up until the trip, I was just hating the idea of waiting for 6 months more than anything I have ever experienced. On the trip I sulked my way through 4 days of appointments. Walking through the clinic doors pretty much put me in a sour mood automatically. I am ashamed to say I acted like a petulant child the entire time. I had no idea that it was going to affect me so greatly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been avoiding most thoughts of Caden lately.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We have talked about wanting to do permanent foster care for awhile now. Living in Australia, we can't adopt a child, but I have worked with kids in foster care before, and permanent care is about as close as we can get to adoption. Last night I was reading a newsletter from another state that listed the special needs babies and kids who are looking for families. Two of them jumped out at me. I so wish that we lived in that state. These two babies, aged 3 and 4 months, with medical conditions, may never get a permanent home. I haven't been able to get them out of my head since then. I just can't stop thinking about them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel angry at someone I was close to. Well thats not right. I am angry at things that have happened, not at the person per se. But I am saddened at this, another loss in my life.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ugh. I can't focus on one thought for long enough to even make sense.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sorry.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4091625317915219371?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4091625317915219371/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4091625317915219371&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4091625317915219371'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4091625317915219371'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/okay-here-it-is.html' title='Okay here it is.'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3008277513734196000</id><published>2008-06-17T19:23:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-17T19:25:35.225+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Four days that felt like a lifetime...</title><content type='html'>I am back from our four day trek to New South and back again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am physically and emotionally EXHAUSTED.&lt;br /&gt;It was a lot harder than I expected.&lt;br /&gt;More dreams shattered, I have very little left.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Will write more tomorrow, I need sleep now...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3008277513734196000?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3008277513734196000/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3008277513734196000&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3008277513734196000'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3008277513734196000'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/four-days-that-felt-like-lifetime.html' title='Four days that felt like a lifetime...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8123467314986469510</id><published>2008-06-13T00:32:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-19T13:27:06.856+09:30</updated><title type='text'>avoidance tactics</title><content type='html'>I have realised I have written very little about my emotional state lately. On purpose. Im a big mess. No one really cares anymore. I am expected to be "over this" now.&lt;br /&gt;And I am bitter, and angry, and feel very abandoned.&lt;br /&gt;There are a few things I need to get out on 'paper' and need to write a long, real entry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But not tonight.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was tagged by &lt;a href="http://thisisnotwhatihadplanned.blogspot.com/"&gt;K@laky&lt;/a&gt;, giving me the perfect excuse to avoid facing my emotions yet again :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;1. What were you doing 10 years ago?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was 14, grade 9, hating life, thinking it couldn't get any worse (ha!). Decided to move to Italy. No really, I did.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;2. What 5 things are on your to do list today? &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;as its after midnight I guess it qualifies - 1) ring up all the companies I owe money to and tell them my details have changed AGAIN because I lost my credit card AGAIN&lt;br /&gt;2) get through the day at work without bursting into tears at my desk AGAIN&lt;br /&gt;3) eat. habit of not eating is impacting negatively on my health (who would have thought?)&lt;br /&gt;4) actually do some work at work&lt;br /&gt;5) pack for the trip to Sydney that I should be excited about but i am the opposite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;3.List snacks you enjoy. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Nothing at the present time. But I used to like food. I vaguely remember it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;4. What would you do with a billion dollars?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Buy my family members decent homes.&lt;br /&gt;Use my wealth to shoot me to the top of adoption lists a.la M.ad.onna/A.ngl.ina J.ol.ie&lt;br /&gt;Fund massive amounts of Stillbirth research&lt;br /&gt;oh so many things but I get depressed thinking about money because we are so. broke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;5. List places you have lived.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Treviso, Italy&lt;br /&gt;Modena, Italy&lt;br /&gt;Granada, Spain&lt;br /&gt;South Australia&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;6. List jobs you have had. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Legal secretary, waitress, international spy, bestselling author, childcare worker.&lt;br /&gt;(okay only 3 of those are true. You work out which ones ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;7. List names of people you want to know more about.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm fairly sure everyone has done this already...but if you havent... tag! you're it...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8123467314986469510?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8123467314986469510/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8123467314986469510&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8123467314986469510'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8123467314986469510'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/avoidance-tactics.html' title='avoidance tactics'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2223769014658440071</id><published>2008-06-12T13:12:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-22T01:52:29.102+09:30</updated><title type='text'>MS</title><content type='html'>Since I posted about R's fundraising efforts, so many people have stepped up to tell me about their experiences with MS. It is much like after Caden's death, where people came forward about their own losses.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So this is for Pam's best friend.&lt;br /&gt;This is for Tracie's mum, aunt and uncle who all have MS.&lt;br /&gt;This is for Sean's Grandmother.&lt;br /&gt;This is for Laura's friend's son.&lt;br /&gt;This is for SBB's partner.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Makes me more determined than ever to raise as much money as we can for this good cause.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2223769014658440071?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2223769014658440071/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2223769014658440071&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2223769014658440071'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2223769014658440071'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/ms.html' title='MS'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-584103204639187986</id><published>2008-06-10T16:55:00.008+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-22T01:53:30.532+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='multiple sclerosis'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fundraising'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awareness'/><title type='text'>Multiple Sclerosis</title><content type='html'>&lt;p&gt;Every year R enters a fundraising event we have here in Australia called the MS Readathon. It is to raise money to support people living in our community with Multiple Sclerosis. It is a cause close to our hearts as through my life I have had more than one friend lose their mother to MS. Recently another friend lost her mother to MS as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;strong&gt;What is it?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/strong&gt;MS stands for Multiple Sclerosis an unpredictable and mysterious disease of the central nervous system (the brain and spinal cord). Our central nervous system contains nerve fibres that help send information to and from different parts of our body. A substance called myelin coats the nerve fibres, like insulation around an electric cable.&lt;br /&gt;The healthy body's immune system normally defends the body from attack by viruses or bacteria. However, in the case of MS, the body's immune system attacks its own myelin, causing disruption to messages being sent to and from the brain.&lt;br /&gt;The myelin becomes scarred and the damaged areas are called "sclerosis". As they appear in "multiple" places within the central nervous system, the disease is called Multiple Sclerosis.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt;&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Some facts about MS:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/em&gt;- It affects over 16,000 Australians and more than 2,500,000 people around the world.&lt;br /&gt;- Most common in young adults.&lt;br /&gt;- Usually diagnosed between 20 and 50 years of age.&lt;br /&gt;- Almost three times as many women as men have MS.&lt;br /&gt;- It is more common in cooler climates.&lt;br /&gt;- MS is not contagious.&lt;br /&gt;- Symptoms can be mild or severe and come and go unpredictably.&lt;br /&gt;- It affects each person differently.&lt;br /&gt;- The cause and cure of MS is unknown. &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;If it is at all possible, please consider sponsoring R in his efforts to raise money. Every single dollar counts towards helping people with MS live their lives with the support they need.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p&gt;Click on his banner to go to his homepage to sponsor him or to read more about what it is, any donation over $2 is tax deductible. Please feel free to pass on the link to anyone you think might like to help out.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;Thankyou&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p align="center"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-584103204639187986?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/584103204639187986/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=584103204639187986&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/584103204639187986'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/584103204639187986'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/multiple-sclerosis.html' title='Multiple Sclerosis'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-22709043100736785</id><published>2008-06-04T22:41:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-05T01:49:28.347+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>thoughts as i think them...</title><content type='html'>I was driving home last night and caught sight of something that made me smile.&lt;br /&gt;A teenage kid, waiting at a bus stop, dancing.&lt;br /&gt;Like no-one was watching, to music only he could hear.&lt;br /&gt;On the side of a main road - 6 lanes of traffic, without a trace of self-consciousness.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was just one of those moments where you realise that life can be beautiful. I don't know why it touched me so deeply...but it did. I wanted to yell out the window "You are Awesome!" but I was driving too fast.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life did not end for me when it ended for Caden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A dear friend once said that her son "is not his death"&lt;br /&gt;And it's true. Caden is not his death.&lt;br /&gt;And I am not just the mother of the dead baby.&lt;br /&gt;I am the mother of the crazy 6 yr old.&lt;br /&gt;I am the partner of the loving, positive, often clumsy lover of mine.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In hiding from my grief I am not helping myself.&lt;br /&gt;In wallowing in my grief I am not helping myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It is all about finding that happy medium.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And dancing as though no-ones watching...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-22709043100736785?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/22709043100736785/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=22709043100736785&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/22709043100736785'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/22709043100736785'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/thoughts-as-i-think-them.html' title='thoughts as i think them...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6613225879085500676</id><published>2008-06-04T16:57:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-04T17:33:08.758+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Happiness is your dentist telling you it won't hurt and then having him catch his hand in the drill  -Johnny Carson</title><content type='html'>So aside from stupid grief and whatnot, the other main issue I'm dealing with is my teeth. And the issue is a doozy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Went to Dentist #1 about a month ago. We'll call him Little-Money-Grubbing-Asshole shall we? He takes 3 x-rays and tells me that I need 5 fillings. I think "dammit" now I have to come up with hundreds of dollars. I think this is terrible. Cut to a week ago where I go in for the first 2 fillings. I tell LMGA that one of my other teeth hurts a little, and has started wobbling. I am worried. He takes another x-ray (on the same spot he took one 3 weeks ago) and tells me "You have a big periodontal abscess. You need a root canal or extraction. That will cost $700-$800."&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am p.i.s.s.e.d off. I think "Holy crap this is awful". Then I think "Wait a second...how did you NOT pick this up 3 weeks ago?" I decide to go through public health and get an emergency appointment. They give me a referral to go to another private dentist for treatment. Yay for a second opinion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to Dentist #2 on friday - aka Geez-How-Old-Are-You-Nineteen?&lt;br /&gt;GHOAY19 is lovely. I feel very at ease with her. She takes another x-ray. Does a cold test. Tells me that my nerve is fine, no need for a root canal. (at this point I'm thinking of how much I would like to punch LMGA - imagine a root canal on a healthy nerve...not pretty)&lt;br /&gt;She tells me that I have a large abscess which is actually a gum problem not a tooth problem. She says when it advances more it may kill the nerve and I'll need a root canal, but for now I am ok. GHOAY19 is going to write a referral to the public dental hospital for me to get specialist treatment on the gum. She explains the procedure, that they will make little incisions in the gum, clean out the crap, and put in some kind of aritifical bone thingy. I blank out a little. I understand little of what shes babbling about. She tells me to ring the Dental Hospital to ask what the waiting list is like.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Monday I ring the Dental Hospital and talk to Miss SB (snobby bitch) she is rude and persistently tells me that they don't accept referrals from private dentsts, and that I need to go on the waiting list at my local clinic for general check and THEN I can be referred. It doesnt matter how many times I tell her that I was at the private dentist on an emergency form, she repeats - you need to be on the waiting list. I tell SB that she is making NO SENSE and hang up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I call the clinic. I speak to Miss Annoyed. MA repeats what SB said. I say to her "so what exactly is the point of an emergency appointment? Im still in pain, the tooth is still moving." Miss Annoyed sighs and tells me that I have to go on their waiting list which is currently 18 months long. I exclaim "So I'm supposed to just wait for all my teeth to fall out!?!"&lt;br /&gt;Miss Annoyed sighs again and says sarcastically "I think thats a bit dramatic"&lt;br /&gt;I say "damn right its dramatic - so is losing your freaking TEETH. It is already loose and it WILL FALL OUT"&lt;br /&gt;I think I piss her off so much that she gives me an appointment with their dentist for the very next day for an assessment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cut to today.&lt;br /&gt;I pick up the x-ray and referral letter from GHOAY19 and head to Dentist #3 - Government-Budget-Cuts-Mean-No-Care-For-You. She is nice too, but I dont care for what she has to say. She says my teeth are all in bad shape (no shit) due to poor dental care as a teenager (guilty as charged). There are a few problems that will need to be fixed (fillings) Again, no surprise there.&lt;br /&gt;GBCMNCFY looks at the damn wobbly tooth. Tells me it is rubbing on the top tooth. Files it down so it no longer does. Says this is probably what made it wobbly and because of the plaque on my teeth it caused the periopocket. Says the govt will not fund any kind of gum surgery and it wont help anyway. There is no way to regenerate the lost bone in the tooth (duh). Apparently people pay thousands of dollars for surgery that wont really help. Tells me to take better care of my teeth. (Im trying!!! Really I am) Tells me Listerine is the devil. Uh ok, thought I was doing the right thing there.&lt;br /&gt;She tells me that the tooth will always be wobbly. Bloody hell. Avoid crusty breads etc. Geez thanks. Nothing I can do about it but keep it clean. And when it gets infected, go on antibiotics (yup, well I'm allergic to ALL antibiotics bar one...makes it hard) Says the tooth won't fall out. Hmm&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So. We have 3 dentists, and 3 completely different diagnoses.&lt;br /&gt;#1 - LMGA who just wants the quick bucks from a root canal.&lt;br /&gt;#2 - GHOAY19 who despite looking like she's just graduated high school, seemed to know what she was talking about; and&lt;br /&gt;#3 - GBCMNCFY who can't refer me to a specialist because their funding doesn't cover it so is possibly telling me there is nothing that can be done just to make me go away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ah what to do...it's all nonsense really.&lt;br /&gt;Makes me want to keep going to different dentists and see how many different diagnoses they can come up with...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6613225879085500676?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6613225879085500676/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6613225879085500676&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6613225879085500676'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6613225879085500676'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/happiness-is-your-dentist-telling-you.html' title='Happiness is your dentist telling you it won&apos;t hurt and then having him catch his hand in the drill  -Johnny Carson'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-834269301533364973</id><published>2008-06-03T11:16:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-03T11:20:18.424+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='despair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>OVERWHELMED</title><content type='html'>Life is just too hard at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;I don't like feeling this way, I hate crying every night - even without being 'sad'.&lt;br /&gt;Some nights I cry without even knowing why. I'm not consciously feeling 'sad', I'm not thinking consciously about Caden, but my subconscious clearly is and the tears fall without me even meaning them too.&lt;br /&gt;Everything is just a struggle.&lt;br /&gt;I wish people understood that getting out of bed is a struggle for me, let alone all the crap they keep heaping on top of me. I can't handle having to co-ordinate builders, and deal with flight itineraries, and doctors, and work, and everything.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On the overwhelmed note, Kim's mum is sick. She's coming down for a few months for chemo. While I am glad we will all get to spend time together (they live on the other side of the country and we normally see them once a year) I hate that they are coming down for this reason. I am scared, Kim is scared.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Is 2008 over yet?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-834269301533364973?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/834269301533364973/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=834269301533364973&amp;isPopup=true' title='11 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/834269301533364973'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/834269301533364973'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/overwhelmed.html' title='OVERWHELMED'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>11</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-165192802758782530</id><published>2008-06-02T18:11:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-02T18:28:37.898+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='melancholy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>not enough hours in the day</title><content type='html'>I find myself with no time to myself at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;Highly amusing given I only "work" 3 days a week.&lt;br /&gt;Honestly between Rory's soccer practice, the phone calls to and from work on my days off with people frantically searching for files that I have never actually been in charge of...wait I digress...yes. Doctors appointments (mine and R's), dentist appointments (mine and R's), shopping, arguing with banks and electricity/gas/phone/internet suppliers, cleaning, cooking, running errands for Kim, proof-reading tenders (again - on my day off!)...well I'm left with no time to just be me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent the first few months after Caden's death online. Reading blogs, finding new communities. I miss that. I found such lovely people in my travels and I miss them. I miss knowing that I am not the only one feeling this way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;As for feelings, well I have a lot of them. Want to borrow some?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have found that "f--- you" is my most common thought. I think it every 5 minutes or so at the moment.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I walk into the pharmacy. Am assaulted by walls of H.uggies, bottles and smiling babies.&lt;br /&gt;"F--- You" I think&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I pick R up from school and the mothers next to me start. "Oh, did you hear? Ethan's mum had her baby!!! A little girl!!! Oh we all knew it was a girl!!! Yes she brought her in this morning!!!"&lt;br /&gt;"F--- You" I think, and I glare at them with menace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I go to the dentist. Have a cute toddler thrust in my face. Mother is yelling at baby. Seriously? The kid's like a year old. Stop shoving it and telling it to hurry up.&lt;br /&gt;"F--- You" I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I drive down the street. Babies in strollers. Babies in slings. Babies. Babies. Babies.&lt;br /&gt;"F--- You", "F--- You", "F--- You" I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I log on to (masochistically) read the bulletin boards I used to post on. New babies.&lt;br /&gt;"F--- You" I think (for the first time I feel guilty...I genuinely love these women)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I turn on the TV. Babies. Pregnant Women. "I'm having a baby!!!"&lt;br /&gt;"F--- You" I think. "that's what you think. Just getting pregnant does not mean you will have a baby".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I read that another good friend has lost another baby.&lt;br /&gt;"F--- You Universe"&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-165192802758782530?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/165192802758782530/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=165192802758782530&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/165192802758782530'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/165192802758782530'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/06/not-enough-hours-in-day.html' title='not enough hours in the day'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2230078862041702208</id><published>2008-05-29T22:40:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-29T22:46:55.908+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>catching up</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;SATURDAY - Autopsy is a four letter word.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had a challenging weekend. On Saturday L and C both separately asked Kim whether we had the autopsy reports. Hearing anyone use the word autopsy in relation to my son (except me, and my deadbabymamafriends) makes me ill...and angry. I simultaneously wanted to punch them in the face, throw up, scream at them and run away. Instead, I sat perfectly still and pretended I couldn’t hear them.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;   &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;b style=""&gt;SUNDAY - Shadow baby. &lt;/b&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On Sunday all the kids from the street were playing together in the street. We pulled the basketball hoop out to the footpath and they played for hours. The neighbour with a baby came out and introduced herself. Her baby is 6 months old.&lt;br /&gt;“I so hope there is this kind of community for Joel when he is older.”&lt;br /&gt;I wanted to throw up. I wanted to tell her my baby would have played with hers if he didn’t die. She left, then came back with her baby. I saw her coming. I went into the house and hid. Apparently she introduced the baby to Kim. Kim wanted to tell her about Caden but didn’t know how. I want her to know. To know why we aren’t being nice and friendly with her and her baby. To know that we had a baby, almost the same age, who would have grown up with her Joel and played with him. I need her to know. &lt;/p&gt; &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;WEDNESDAY - I Cried&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Today I cried. I cried as I lay on the couch talking to Kim. I cried when I hung up. I cried when I got up to switch on the light, and sunk to the floor wailing at how unfair it is. I cried as I walked to the kitchen, I cried as I opened the cupboards, and couldn’t see a thing for my tears. I cried as I opened the freezer, and sat in front of the open doors sobbing. I cried as I looked for lunch, I cried as I made my lunch. I cried as I ate it. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I’m so fucking SICK of crying. I’m sick of this life of shitty things happening.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2230078862041702208?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2230078862041702208/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2230078862041702208&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2230078862041702208'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2230078862041702208'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/catching-up.html' title='catching up'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6929161241300941359</id><published>2008-05-28T09:48:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-28T09:56:50.885+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cemetary'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>3 Month Membership</title><content type='html'>I belong to a club where I have a lifetime membership. I never wanted to be a part of it. I barely knew it existed. It's a club that I hate being a member of. And yesterday marked three months of membership.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To mark the occasion, I got some orange oriental lilies, wrapped them in blue cellophane and took them out to my son's grave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have no words for how this makes me feel.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6929161241300941359?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6929161241300941359/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6929161241300941359&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6929161241300941359'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6929161241300941359'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/3-month-membership.html' title='3 Month Membership'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2540251498099316577</id><published>2008-05-23T08:18:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-22T01:56:14.166+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='awareness'/><title type='text'>Stillbirth Awareness Bill</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;Dear Friends,&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;We have exciting news! &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt; Representative Peter King from New York has introduced a bill to raise awareness about stillbirth that seeks to standardize the definition of stillbirth, and the method in which stillbirth data is collected, so there can be a national repository for stillbirth data with which to conduct comprehensive research efforts. The bill also authorizes a campaign to increase public awareness of good prenatal care practices that may decrease the risk of stillbirth, including monitoring movements during the last trimester. To view the actual bill and supporting documents, please visit the First Candle website. &lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;Now we need your help! We are asking that you write a letter to your Representative asking them to&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;co-sponsor this bill. The more co-sponsors the bill has, the more likely it is to pass. Please note, this is for the House of Representatives only. Do not contact your Senators at this time.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;If you could do this within the next couple days to one week, we will be able to maximize the momentum Representative King has initiated!&lt;/p&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;Members of Congress receive hundreds of messages from their constituents every day. This communication is important to them because it helps them better understand what issues are important to those they serve. Through your requests, congressional leaders will support legislation, add their names as co-sponsors or even introduce legislation to assist constituents in their districts. &lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;The compelling testimony provided by parents at First Candle’s 2007 Advocacy Day-on-the Hill is what prompted Representative King to introduce this important bill! &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt; &lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;·&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;The first step is to identify the Representative for the District you live in. If you already know that, or have had direct contact with him/her, you are one step ahead of the game!  &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;·&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;If you do not know who your Representative is, or if you do not have contact information, you can find that information at &lt;a href="https://forms.house.gov/" target="_blank"&gt;https://forms.house.gov&lt;/a&gt; by putting in your 9-digit zip code (if you do not know your 4 digit extension, you can get it at &lt;a href="http://zip4.usps.com/zip4/welcome.jsp" target="_blank"&gt;http://zip4.usps.com/zip4/welcome.jsp&lt;/a&gt;.) You will then be able link directly to your Representative’s website. There you will find all the information you need, as well as the ability to email directly to their office.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;·&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Once you have the contact information, write your letter. We have provided a sample letter below, but encourage you to add your personal story where indicated. Personal stories always have a greater impact and are taken more seriously than form letters! Of course, you can write your own letter if you have the time or desire. Just remember to keep the statistics and information about the bill consistent with that of the sample letter.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;·&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;Sending a hard copy or email letter are both equally effective. If you are mailing a hard copy, feel free to send along the documents attached to this email. It is not a good idea to attach documents to email letters, as they will most likely be rejected. Do not let this discourage you from using email though, as the vast majority of constituent letters do not include supporting documentation. Your email letters can be sent directly through your Representative’s website.&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;·&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;First Candle would very much appreciate knowing who you have sent a letter to. This way we can conduct follow-up if and when that becomes necessary. Simply send an email to &lt;a href="mailto:jennifer.johnson@firstcandle.org"&gt;jennifer.johnson@firstcandle.org&lt;/a&gt; with your name and the name of the representative or staffer you sent the letter to. Hard or email copies of your letters are also welcome!&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;·&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;  &lt;/span&gt;And finally . . . please share this email with anyone that you think would be interested in supporting this effort, including family, friends, your favorite support organizations, groups, websites, etc. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;·&lt;span style=""&gt;     &lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;   &lt;/span&gt;If you have any questions regarding the bill or this process, feel free to contact Marianne Adezio at 703-741-7053 or &lt;a href="mailto:madezio@golinharris.org"&gt;madezio@golinharris.org&lt;/a&gt;.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt; &lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;We thank you in advance for your prompt attention to this important matter! By working together, we stand to gain the most in our quest to spare families the devastation of stillbirth . . . in the belief that every baby should live.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt; &lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;Sincerely,&lt;br /&gt;The Board and Staff of First Candle&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;" class="MsoPlainText"&gt;Sample Letter&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;Dear Representative ________________:&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt; I am writing to ask you to co-sponsor legislation that would help the CDC and researchers better determine the risk factors associated with stillbirth and convey those risk factors to expectant parents. &lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;House of Representative Bill 5979, the Stillbirth Awareness and Research Act of 2008, was introduced by Representative Peter King of New York in an effort to address the lack of standardized data collection nationally with regard to stillbirth. &lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;Each year more than 25,000 babies in the United States are stillborn. More than 50 percent of these deaths occur in the last trimester of pregnancy and 15 percent occur during labor and delivery. Due to a lack of autopsy/investigation and inconsistencies in diagnosing these, more than 50 percent of all stillbirths remain unexplained.&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt; With standardized investigation and reporting of these deaths, researchers would be better able to determine the risk factors. H.R. 5979 would both standardize the definition of stillbirth and the method in which data is collected, in order to create a national repository of stillbirth data to assist researchers in conducting comprehensive studies in to the causes of, and possible preventive strategies for, stillbirth. The bill also authorizes a public awareness campaign promoting good prenatal practices, including monitoring movements during the last trimester of pregnancy, to reduce the risk of stillbirth. &lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;This legislation is important to me because (insert your personal story here)&lt;/p&gt;        &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;Thank you so much for your consideration of my request.&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoPlainText"&gt;&lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;!--&lt;/o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;(insert name and contact information here)&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;!--&lt;o:p&gt;--&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2540251498099316577?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2540251498099316577/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2540251498099316577&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2540251498099316577'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2540251498099316577'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/stillbirth-awareness-bill.html' title='Stillbirth Awareness Bill'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2152444343689301934</id><published>2008-05-19T15:41:00.005+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-19T18:03:14.083+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children and death'/><title type='text'>Children...</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Little-Friend-at-School looks at R, then at me and says&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;“Is that your mother?”&lt;br /&gt;R looks around, sees me - "uh-huh, yep".&lt;br /&gt;She turns and says to me “Did your baby die?”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes he did.”&lt;br /&gt;“Oh. That’s bad.”&lt;br /&gt;“Yes its very sad.”&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;pause&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;“Did you &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;know&lt;/span&gt; his heart just stopped?”&lt;br /&gt;“No, I went into the hospital and they told me his heart had stopped”&lt;br /&gt;“Just after he was born?”&lt;br /&gt;“No, just before he was born”&lt;br /&gt;“And then did he just go back into…(she curls her hands up)” She seemed lost and insinuating that she thought he just 'evaporated' in a sense, or turned back into a 'seed'...&lt;br /&gt;I interrupted her to say&lt;br /&gt;“No he was born, and then we buried him in the cemetery.”&lt;br /&gt;Little-Next-Door-Neighbour (also in R's class) says “So if your baby didn’t die, R would have had a little brother!”&lt;br /&gt;I say “yes, he has a little brother”&lt;br /&gt;Little-Friend-at-School corrects her “no he'd have a big brother”&lt;br /&gt;I laugh “no, R would be the big brother!”&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt; And that was that.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;They said goodbye cheerily to each other and skipped off home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;I love how kids just take it all in their stride.&lt;br /&gt;They aren't afraid to ask about death.&lt;br /&gt;They aren't afraid to upset you.&lt;br /&gt;They are just curious little creatures.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Personally, I love to chat with R's little inquisitive girlfriends.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2152444343689301934?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2152444343689301934/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2152444343689301934&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2152444343689301934'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2152444343689301934'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/children-and-their-pure-curiosity.html' title='Children...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-5842472317500997383</id><published>2008-05-18T23:50:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-18T23:54:57.942+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='egg donation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ivf'/><title type='text'></title><content type='html'>This morning was our phone consult with our new Dr in Sydney. It went pretty well, I suppose. Nothing I wasn't expecting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was very lovely&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;very understanding of our situation&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and very sorry to force a 6 month wait on us.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-5842472317500997383?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/5842472317500997383/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=5842472317500997383&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5842472317500997383'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5842472317500997383'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/this-morning-was-our-phone-consult-with.html' title=''/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6669686426959477015</id><published>2008-05-15T14:59:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-16T20:24:50.396+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Bad Things Happen to Good People</title><content type='html'>Immediately after Caden died I found myself thinking that I must have done something to deserve this. That I must have deserved punishment and I was being punished for something. I ran through all the different reasons in my own head of why I might be chosen to be punished and tortured like this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And then at some point it came to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;I wasn’t being punished.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How could being the mother of such a beautiful tiny child be considered a punishment? And as I look around me (figuratively speaking) I see so many other women, good women, compassionate women, loving women, going through the same torture. It can’t possibly be a punishment for wrongdoing. And I have come to believe that we &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt; chosen, to be the mothers of these babies that were not destined to live on this earth with us, because we are strong. We are loving. And we will love these little lost children for the rest of our lives, and honour them in every way we can.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So yes, we &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;were&lt;/span&gt; chosen. But not because we were bad people.&lt;br /&gt;Rather, because we are &lt;em&gt;good &lt;/em&gt;people.&lt;br /&gt;Because we have it in us to honour these little people in the best way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It takes an incredible woman to lose their child, and still love and honour them every single day.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6669686426959477015?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6669686426959477015/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6669686426959477015&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6669686426959477015'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6669686426959477015'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/bad-things-happen-to-good-people.html' title='Bad Things Happen to Good People'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2503075679876108743</id><published>2008-05-14T10:48:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-14T10:51:35.822+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Every now and then...</title><content type='html'>Every now and then I get a flash of how our life should be and it takes my breath away. Just a glimpse, into that alternate reality where our baby didn't die, where he was healthy and safe in our arms.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2503075679876108743?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2503075679876108743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2503075679876108743&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2503075679876108743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2503075679876108743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/every-now-and-then.html' title='Every now and then...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-632272714316831049</id><published>2008-05-12T16:51:00.005+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-30T23:56:50.962+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Mothers Day</title><content type='html'>I don't have the emotional energy to write an entry today.&lt;br /&gt;I feel both &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;blessed&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;cursed&lt;/span&gt; at the same time.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt;Blessed&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(51, 102, 255);"&gt; &lt;/span&gt;because of our amazing little boy Rory&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic; color: rgb(255, 153, 0);"&gt;Cursed&lt;/span&gt; because of my inability to have more children.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look at what our clever boy made at school. The first two pages are about me, the second two are about Kim.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-632272714316831049?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/632272714316831049/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=632272714316831049&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/632272714316831049'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/632272714316831049'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/mothers-day.html' title='Mothers Day'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4823255986526890816</id><published>2008-05-10T15:42:00.010+09:30</published><updated>2008-07-08T13:21:34.871+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='generosity'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kindness'/><title type='text'>the kindness of strangers</title><content type='html'>In times when you feel like giving up on the world, it is amazing the things you can encounter. When I have been feeling my lowest, I have been shown the kindness of strangers. People who I have met online, but never in person, people who have helped me through my darkest times.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Thank you Michelley&lt;/span&gt; for making me a gorgeous bracelet in Caden's colours. Thankyou also for making a charm for Caden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Thank you Donna&lt;/span&gt;, who I have hardly even spoken to, who sent us handmade beeswax candles, a dragonfly for Caden and a crystal suncatcher that sends rainbows all over the walls.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Thank you Luisa&lt;/span&gt;, who sent me a magazine she found in the newsagent because it had an article on children's grief that she thought I might find helpful.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You girls are the light in my life, and I cry at the thought of how beautiful each of you are.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And a special thankyou to my very beautiful friend &lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; FONT-STYLE: italic"&gt;Angie&lt;/span&gt;. For offering the biggest thing anyone has ever offered me, to carry a child for me if I am unable to.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="FONT-WEIGHT: bold; COLOR: rgb(255,102,0)"&gt;I am &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;humbled&lt;/span&gt; by your &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;generosity&lt;/span&gt; and &lt;span style="COLOR: rgb(51,102,255)"&gt;love.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;img src="http://i342.photobucket.com/albums/o407/cadenblog/charms022.jpg" /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4823255986526890816?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4823255986526890816/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4823255986526890816&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4823255986526890816'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4823255986526890816'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/kindness-of-strangers.html' title='the kindness of strangers'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4292149487323944147</id><published>2008-05-08T12:46:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-08T13:29:14.311+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='progress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='peace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>Changes</title><content type='html'>I have returned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my very short break from the internet (during which I continued to visit certain sites daily - just lurked rather than commented - yes my addiction to the internet is that severe!!) I reached a few conclusions about certain things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;First. My perspective has changed somewhat on the IVF issue. I discovered that I could handle the idea of the 8 month wait fairly well (because really, time flies) until I start thinking about how &lt;em&gt;other &lt;/em&gt;people are getting pregnant and having babies now. I discovered that it was not so much that I couldn't get pregnant now, as it was an issue of jealousy that they were doing it now, and a need to 'keep up' as it were.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Really, how ridiculous. &lt;strong&gt;I can no longer set our timelines by other people.&lt;/strong&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Also I decided to shift my focus somewhat and by giving myself certain projects, I feel that I can better pass the time. Of course tied up in all of this was the receiving of a letter from the head of obstetrics at my hospital - telling me that the odds of me having another terminal baby are very high. Higher than we originally thought, and too high for me to even consider trying to have another child without IVF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In response to the 'bad' news about IVF (in that it will take much, much longer than I was originally told - and the letter mentioned above) I responded in the only way I know how. I stopped eating, stopped sleeping, and generally was incredibly negative about everything and anything. I behaved as though it were the end of the world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On my fifth day of said process (possibly in a state of delirium induced by not having eaten and barely sleeping), I decided enough was enough. I was done wallowing because it solved nothing. I was done being this shell of a person because I know that in part I do it so that everyone around me knows - &lt;em&gt;I am not better. I am not over my son dying.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In some ways, I felt that I was appearing too 'good' to the outside world and I wanted them to know that I was still hurting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;em&gt;problem is - no-one ever notices.&lt;/em&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So it's rather pointless really.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday I spent the day redesigning my blog. I needed something brighter, something happier. Because while my beloved son dying shook me to the core of my very being, it did not kill me. And I need to brighten up my life and my outlook before I should even consider having another child. That and my surviving son needs me too much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is not to say that in a few days I will not fall in a messy heap again - but for now...I think I'm okay. And this morning, in the post, I received an amazing gift. A beautiful bracelet from one of my new friends - the ones who understand me, who will never judge me, and who love Caden.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thank you Michelle.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Life can be good - it just takes a lot to be able to see it when something as precious as your child is taken from you.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4292149487323944147?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4292149487323944147/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4292149487323944147&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4292149487323944147'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4292149487323944147'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/changes.html' title='Changes'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6869545558150779578</id><published>2008-05-07T15:58:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-07T16:43:33.057+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='progress'/><title type='text'>I am grateful</title><content type='html'>&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to have the most incredible partner I could ask for&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to have my crazy, mischievous, often naughty 6 year old&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to have my sister in law who makes me smile and loves us unconditionally&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to live in a country with free healthcare&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to be able to access IVF even though we have to wait&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to live in an amazing area near the beach, in a street filled with children&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to have had the opportunity to hold and love my Caden&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span&gt;I am grateful to be alive&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6869545558150779578?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6869545558150779578/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6869545558150779578&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6869545558150779578'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6869545558150779578'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/i-am-grateful.html' title='I am grateful'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4576835370664865791</id><published>2008-05-02T01:46:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-05-02T01:50:42.671+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='melancholy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>time off</title><content type='html'>I might be offline for awhile.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my heart is breaking and I need to take time to curl into a ball and pretend the world isnt turning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My online friends who read this blog - thank you for your continued love and support.&lt;br /&gt;I know me, I love the net way too much, I'll be back soon.&lt;br /&gt;But for now, everywhere I turn there are babies and pregnancies.&lt;br /&gt;For those of us who have lost a baby and are now ttc or pregnant - I am thrilled for you and your rainbow babies :0) But at the same time, it is reminding me of what I cannot have, and breaks my heart all over again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'll be back when I'm a little stronger, to cheer you on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Love&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4576835370664865791?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4576835370664865791/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4576835370664865791&amp;isPopup=true' title='15 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4576835370664865791'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4576835370664865791'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/05/time-off.html' title='time off'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>15</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1036855829377923756</id><published>2008-04-30T21:26:00.005+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-30T21:58:13.537+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='depression'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='despair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>The world owes me a cookie today</title><content type='html'>This morning I got some happy IVF news.&lt;br /&gt;I was so excited, truly happy for the first time in months.&lt;br /&gt;Late this afternoon I get another call. Oops we got it wrong.&lt;br /&gt;You can't have that dream.&lt;br /&gt;I went from our best case scenario to our absolute worst case scenario.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like my world has come crashing down again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ive spent hours in tears. I now know that I will cry for the next 7-8 months.&lt;br /&gt;Until I might finally be able to try to have another baby.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I should give up. Like I should stop hoping, stop dreaming, stop wanting more.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I am just inviting more heartache.&lt;br /&gt;I am just in so much pain. It hurts. It really, really hurts.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everytime I get a glimpse of good, something snatches it away again.&lt;br /&gt;When does this ever stop?&lt;br /&gt;Why can't anything good happen to me?&lt;br /&gt;I feel like I'll never be happy again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wasnt my baby dying bad enough?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When is enough, enough?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1036855829377923756?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1036855829377923756/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1036855829377923756&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1036855829377923756'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1036855829377923756'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/world-owes-me-cookie-today.html' title='The world owes me a cookie today'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2113939397446824616</id><published>2008-04-27T19:47:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-06-30T23:59:50.913+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><title type='text'>2 months without Caden</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2113939397446824616?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2113939397446824616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2113939397446824616&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2113939397446824616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2113939397446824616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/2-months-without-caden.html' title='2 months without Caden'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-5366022004143231117</id><published>2008-04-24T09:38:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-24T09:45:23.874+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='melancholy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>ho hum</title><content type='html'>Despite the overwhelming negativity of the past two entries, I'm doing ok.&lt;br /&gt;I hit a rough patch at work yesterday (which I'm sure I will write about another day).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Despite running on three hours sleep and a ton of coffee (and not much else) I feel okay today.&lt;br /&gt;I did have a moment this morning when I was dropping off Rory at his Vacation Care while I'm at work, there was a cheeky little boy saying goodbye to his big brother and for the first time I had a glimpse of what we will miss with Caden. I could see him for the first time as a child rather than the baby I always see him as. It's making me tear up a little to write, but I was surprised at how the thought didn't upset me like I thought it would.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm keeping myself really busy, editing a newspaper, getting ready for the long weekend where I get to meet my SIL's new partner (v. exciting) and going to work. All I want to do though is go home and lay on the couch with a box of chocolates.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I guess I've settled into a sort of melancholy rather than the deep grief I was feeling a few days ago. Hmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't know which I prefer to tell you the truth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-5366022004143231117?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/5366022004143231117/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=5366022004143231117&amp;isPopup=true' title='7 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5366022004143231117'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5366022004143231117'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/ho-hum.html' title='ho hum'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>7</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4132293312698531310</id><published>2008-04-21T14:32:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-21T14:39:00.577+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><title type='text'>hate this. want it to go away.</title><content type='html'>I feel so sad today.&lt;br /&gt;So fucking sad.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last night I cried again. And when I say cried, I dont mean quiet tears, I have them every day. I mean gut wrenching, clutching my chest, screaming tears.&lt;br /&gt;It always hits me at about 1:30am-2am. And because Kim has to be up at 5:30am to go to work, I was trying so hard to be quiet. I even went out to the lounge room to avoid waking her up. I gave myself one hell of a headache holding in my really loud sobs. All I wanted to do was wail.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had it out of my system, so I went back to bed. Kept sobbing quietly. Eventually Kim woke up and grabbed me into a hug as she does. And it broke out of me. I wailed so hard and so loud, I nearly threw up. I sobbed and wailed for a little bit and then was so close to being physically ill that I forced myself to calm down. It felt fucking good to make so much noise though.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And today I'm off work, eating pizza for lunch, lying on the couch with a killer headache watching tv and drinking bourbon. And feeling utterly sorry for myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I fucking hate this.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I &lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;FUCKING HATE THIS&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I was doing well seeing babies around and stuff, but I have found my biggst trigger. Seeing families like ours. Two mums and a baby just does.me.in.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt; FUCKING HATE THIS.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4132293312698531310?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4132293312698531310/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4132293312698531310&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4132293312698531310'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4132293312698531310'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/hate-this-want-it-to-go-away.html' title='hate this. want it to go away.'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1145906507714625743</id><published>2008-04-20T22:34:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-20T22:38:17.561+09:30</updated><title type='text'>issues</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;please excuse the language, it's how I feel right now - if you're offended by the 'f' word, skip this entry. Seriously.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So I'm having such body issues right now. I hate myself.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It doesnt matter how many times Kim says she loves me and all of me, it doesn't make me feel any better.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I never felt so beautiful as I did when I was pregnant. I felt good about me. I joked about being the size of a rhinoceros but the truth is I admired myself and my stomach every time I was near a mirror.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew that once I had the baby I would be fat again, but who would care? When I had a beautiful baby to show for it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thats what fucking sucks about being a deadbabymama. When people look at me they don't know that i had a baby. They just see me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel fatter now than I did a month ago. My stomach is flabby and squishy and my thighs are fucking massive. I can't wear my old clothes and be damned if I'm wearing maternity clothes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm angry, and frustrated, and just...angry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Fuck.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I feel fucking disgusting.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1145906507714625743?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1145906507714625743/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1145906507714625743&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1145906507714625743'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1145906507714625743'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/issues.html' title='issues'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4842342546975582509</id><published>2008-04-18T16:56:00.002+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-18T17:15:54.228+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ivf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>scattered</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;a href="http://pub49.bravenet.com/guestbook/4204021320/"&gt;&lt;img alt="Sign my Guestbook from Bravenet.com" src="http://assets.bravenet.com/cp/guestbook.gif" title="Sign my Guestbook from Bravenet.com" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- End Bravenet.com Service Code --&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;I feel so scattered at the moment. Randomly during the day I come up with something I feel is &lt;i&gt;important &lt;/i&gt;and should of course be chronicled in this here blog...and then I sit down at the computer and promptly forget it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My mind is heavy with three things right now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dead babies and all things deadbaby related.&lt;br /&gt;The Next Baby – also known as the IVF nightmare&lt;br /&gt;The massive, expensive, major, impending renovations/extension to our house&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;*sigh*&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Because nothing in my life could be simple.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I have thousands of things I &lt;i style=""&gt;want &lt;/i&gt;to do. And yet, on my days off, I sit here at the computer and read blogs all freaking day. And achieve &lt;b style=""&gt;nothing.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I feel so overwhelmed by the above 3 Big Things. I am determined that Caden’s death will not be in vain. I have pretty much made it my life’s mission to make sure that something good comes from his passing. To start with, I never would have met some women who truly amaze me. But I also need a &lt;i style=""&gt;cause.&lt;/i&gt; There is nothing that could have been done to save my beloved. But there &lt;b style=""&gt;are&lt;/b&gt; illnesses and diseases that can be treated in utero. No baby should die from a preventable cause. I have a few things in the works that, if I can ever get them out of my head and into reality, will be great. But unfortunately I am one of those people with a million dollar idea who never turn it into anything concrete. Must work on that.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I am also clearly obsessed with the world of stillbirth and neonatal death. I had truly &lt;b style=""&gt;&lt;i style=""&gt;no idea &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/b&gt;that this tragedy was so freaking common. It breaks my heart that at least once a week, I meet a new friend who has lost their beloved baby. As I said to Abby today, the universe owes us a freaking cookie. A box of cookies even.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;Every other waking second is filled with thoughts on IVF. Like making the decision to go that far wasn’t enough. Now we are looking down the barrel of a 6 month wait. 6 months doesn’t seem like a long time, but when you should have been holding your 2 month old son, and instead your arms are empty, it’s a fucking eternity. Being the anal retentive planner I am, I have started making spreadsheets of pros and cons of each clinic, each route, even creating a points system to see which one comes out on top. *sigh* Not that I overthink things at all.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;And when I’m not thinking about babies, I’m thinking of the other major event in our lives. The renovations. The planned extension to the house that was first proposed over a year ago. *sigh* I really want it done. And yesterday. Unfortunately these things take a lot of time, and a buttload of cash. Cash we don’t necessarily have. Plus I have to do 100% of the work and organizing as I am project managing. Why cant I just come home one day and go “hey! We have a new kitchen/bathroom/4&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; bedroom/dining room extension! Yay for us!?!”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;I guess my brain is just full up and it’s &lt;i style=""&gt;tired. &lt;/i&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal" style=""&gt;This wasn’t actually the entry I planned to write. Dammit. Oh well. I’ll try again tomorrow.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4842342546975582509?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4842342546975582509/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4842342546975582509&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4842342546975582509'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4842342546975582509'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/scattered.html' title='scattered'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1863814599701426537</id><published>2008-04-15T13:52:00.005+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-15T15:28:59.542+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='thank you'/><title type='text'>thank you</title><content type='html'>I'm not in a great place right now. I've been crying myself to sleep every night again.&lt;br /&gt;I also feel like my mind is gone. Honestly, I can barely get these words written out. I can't concentrate long enough on ANYTHING. I have at least 5 projects that are on a deadline and no hope of getting any of them done any time soon.&lt;br /&gt;I am used to being a person with a hundred things going on at once. At the moment I'm lucky to get one thing done a day, and I'm not getting anywhere near enough done each day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;But for now I wanted to send out a thankyou to those of you who have left comments for me.&lt;br /&gt;I am somewhat surprised that so many people are visiting my blog, over 2600 hits in only 2 weeks!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm really interested in who is reading. Can you leave us a message in our guestbook to let me know you're here...I dont expect comments on entries, but I'd love to get to know all of you who are reading about us :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- Start Bravenet.com Service Code --&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a href="http://pub49.bravenet.com/guestbook/4204021320/"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img alt="Sign my Guestbook from Bravenet.com" src="http://assets.bravenet.com/cp/guestbook.gif" title="Sign my Guestbook from Bravenet.com" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!-- End Bravenet.com Service Code --&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1863814599701426537?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1863814599701426537/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1863814599701426537&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1863814599701426537'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1863814599701426537'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/thank-you.html' title='thank you'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-4221963837321956380</id><published>2008-04-14T09:46:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-14T09:59:50.355+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trisomy 18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='egg donation'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ivf'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='infertility'/><title type='text'>so where do we go from here?</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;So what does this mean for me now?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Dr P told me of another patient who had a recurring disjunction problem. She had a trisomy 18 baby, a trisomy 13 baby, a trisomy 21 baby and two miscarriages.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I simply cannot face something like that. Because of my own personal belief that all life is sacred, I could never terminate a pregnancy. Not only that, but I personally am friends with 3 adults whose parents would have been offered a medical termination. I personally cannot imagine the world without them. I also am friends with someone whose baby faced a 0.01% chance of survival – she chose to continue the pregnancy and her child is still here (&lt;i style=""&gt;please do note that I am not against abortion. I am pro-choice. But my own personal belief is that it’s not an option for me&lt;/i&gt;). &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;So I have decided that Caden will be the last of my biological children.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In one sense I am lucky, in that biology has never meant a great deal to me. My mother's biological family disowned us when she divorced my father (still the best move she ever made) and she created her own family. Her best friend became like her sister, her best friends mother is the only grandma I have ever known and I love her dearly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;I can but assume most of my astute readers have picked up on the fact that I am also a lesbian, and my partner had no biological link to Caden. She unequivocably is his mother. She said the second she saw him any worries she had over whether he would feel like hers disappeared. The second she saw him, she knew he was hers, no questions asked.&lt;br /&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So knowing that I will not give birth to another biological child, while there is some feeling of loss, does not leave us without options. Dr P suggested PGD - which is a technique used during IVF, where they allow an embryo to grow to blastocyst stage and then extract a few cells to test for chromosomal abnormalities. However, it is only 80-90% effective, and they still recommend all the screening tests to be sure. Add to that the fact that it is a new technology, and there are no long term studies on how it might affect the child’s development. Plus hey, we have another option.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The final option, the one that makes the most sense to both of us, is to do IVF with Kim as my egg donor. The act of carrying the baby and giving birth to it will give me a connection just as great as a biological link. Kim will also have that link through biology. We have spoken to both our families, who were not 100% receptive to the idea of us haing children in the first place, and they are all on board with this plan. My mother (herself an IVF veteran) said to me “look at it this way. If you were in a heterosexual relationship, and there was male factor infertility and you had to use a sperm donor, only one of you would have a biological link. Or if there was this problem with you, and you needed an egg donor, only one of you would have a link. This is no different!”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Uhh, I didn’t actually need reassurance, I love the idea of carrying my partner’s child, but thanks!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So now we start with the probably very long process of counseling, medical tests and eventually IVF. So there is at least a light at the end of this very, very long tunnel.&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-4221963837321956380?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/4221963837321956380/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=4221963837321956380&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4221963837321956380'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/4221963837321956380'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/so-what-does-this-mean-for-me-now-he.html' title='so where do we go from here?'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8112375459600302224</id><published>2008-04-13T23:26:00.004+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-13T23:35:08.023+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trisomy 18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autopsy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='answers'/><title type='text'>not exactly what we were hoping for</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;***warning - this is long***&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; abbreviated version = &lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Caden was confirmed to have Trisomy 18&lt;br /&gt;His chromosomes actually were 48 xxy meaning a double aneuploidy&lt;br /&gt;I most likely will not have any more biological children&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt; long version =&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The day I had been waiting impatiently for over the past month finally arrived and I was so incredibly nervous the entire day. I had been counting down literally the hours and minutes until I could get some answers. But I felt ill with anticipation. On one hand I was desperate to know the answers and at the same time I was dreading what I would hear. I had many thoughts during the morning and I wish I had thought to write them down because I remember &lt;i&gt;nothing &lt;/i&gt;of that morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arrived at the hospital just in time for our appointment and Dr P was waiting for us (The head of obstetrics at the major hospital in our city). We waited a few minutes while he paged Dr JT (the doctor who informed me of Caden's death and performed the ultrasounds that day).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dr P started off by saying "There are four things we look at in this appointment."&lt;br /&gt;(1) What happened to the baby&lt;br /&gt;(2) Was it preventable&lt;br /&gt;(3) What are the implications for the future&lt;br /&gt;(4) How will we manage the next pregnancy&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He started by looking at the pathology reports and saying "the baby was very small (duh) and so was the placenta." He started talking about nutritional issues (as in the placenta was too small and therefore the baby was IUGR)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I don’t remember all that much of this part of the appointment as I started getting really agitated and had a mild anxiety attack, feeling like I was going to throw up. JT left to get me a glass of water. I started freaking out internally, thinking he was trying to tell me that Caden had died because of IUGR. If this had been the case I would have been virtually homocidal as I had tried to get the attention of all of my caregivers to pay more attention to the risk of IUGR and they did nothing. I really don't remember all that much and I wish I had the forethought to take my digital recorder to record the conversation. It felt like he was talking for at least half an hour, but looking back it may have only been 5 or so minutes. Kim has no real recollection of this time either.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually JT mentioned something about markers and I started to feel a little relief. Dr P pulled up the chromosome reports and said "&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Oh it does look like your baby never had a chance, he had a chromosome problem&lt;/span&gt;" and I said "Trisomy 18".&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He looked a little taken aback, and I for the first time felt true relief and smiled. I said "I knew it, in the back of my mind, since his 20 week scan."&lt;br /&gt;"Why was that?"&lt;br /&gt;"First because of the choroid plexus cyst in his brain, also I saw his size, and the fact that he had clenched fists - which he was also born with"&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I brought up the fact that I had a 'negative' result for T18 on the nuchal translucency and blood tests, and he commented that actually, my HCG levels were actually quite low (indicating a problem) and that my risk of T18 at &lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;1:1655 was not really a negative result as normally at my age they would expect over 1:30,000. This was a huge eye opener as I kept being told my risk was low, which is what had made me doubt my own self diagnosis of T18.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;He then gave a quick run down of how the Trisomy occurred – all of which I knew. He asked what I was studying at university, thinking I was doing medicine or nursing. I laughed and said “actually I’m studying architecture and digital media.” I totally respected him for not dumbing down his answers to me. &lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;As he was running through the brief introduction of the meiosis process (which I am well familiar with, having tutored high school biology for a few years) he looked at the report on the computer and seemed surprised. He informed me that Caden’s chromosomes actually measured 48xxy, meaning a double aneuploidy.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;A ‘normal’ person has 46 chromosomes. A person with a Trisomy has 47 chromosomes. Where you normally have 2 of each chromosome, a Trisomy baby has 3 of one chromosome. Caden therefore had TWO anomalies, both Trisomy 18 and the sex chromosomes. From what I can gather from articles in medical journals, this is a very rare occurrence. So the final dignosis is Trisomy 18 and Klinefelter syndrome.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Answer to number (2) is that no, it wasn’t preventable. Dear Caden never stood a chance. However. Dr P did go on to say a few times that it is absolutely appalling that a 1500g baby made it to 37 weeks with no care provider picking it up, and he apologized for this. I told him about the awful ‘care’ I got from the doctor I was seeing at the other hospital. He knew her name, and I’m hoping that she will get some kind of reprimand for her behaviour (but somehow I doubt it). &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;(3) the implications for the future are kind of unclear. If Caden was a ‘simple’ trisomy, my risk would have increased to about 1%. Still sounds ok, right? Well if you consider the ‘normal’ risk is about 0.000003% it looks a little different doesn’t it.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Of course, this is not the only problem. The fact that he had a double aneuploidy signifies a more significant segregation defect in the meiosis process. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;The problem is a maternal issue. This issue lies in my eggs. There is no way to test whether this will reoccur, as they would have to test every egg which is, of course, impossible, especially as we know, because there is no telling which egg will be released when I ovulate.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Dr P says the only thing to do is try again, and basically hope for the best.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;(4) they will manage me very differently next time. I will be classified as high risk. They will do the same screening tests as they did this time, but will pay far closer attention to the results. I will be offered invasive tests, but Dr P does not suggest the amnio/CVS if I would not terminate, as they carry a risk of miscarriage. He would do them though, if I wanted.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I will see them more frequently, and their main aim will apparently be reassurance. Basically, if it makes me feel better they will do an ultrasound every two weeks at each appointment to make sure everything is okay. They also prefer to induce labour as early as possible. I will probably be induced around 38 weeks.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;stay tuned: tomorrow = so where do we go from here?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8112375459600302224?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8112375459600302224/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8112375459600302224&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8112375459600302224'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8112375459600302224'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/not-exactly-what-we-were-hoping-for.html' title='not exactly what we were hoping for'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7550731633345294488</id><published>2008-04-10T19:02:00.001+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-10T19:04:04.553+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trisomy 18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='autopsy'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='answers'/><title type='text'>mother's instinct...trust it</title><content type='html'>Big news...I was right.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Got all of the results of Caden's autopsy this afternoon, and to cut a long story short, he did have Trisomy 18, a lethal chromosome defect. It is amazing he lived as long as he did and he passed in the most peaceful way possible. I feel such relief it is hard to put it into words.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I will write a full entry with all the details tomorrow, tonight I am emotionally exhausted.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7550731633345294488?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7550731633345294488/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7550731633345294488&amp;isPopup=true' title='13 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7550731633345294488'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7550731633345294488'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/mothers-instincttrust-it.html' title='mother&apos;s instinct...trust it'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>13</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1057048241540505042</id><published>2008-04-09T22:45:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-09T22:54:54.637+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='guilt'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pain'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='envy'/><title type='text'>new guilt</title><content type='html'>I feel a new guilt.&lt;br /&gt;I'm back at work.&lt;br /&gt;And I don't think about Caden all day. I have huge photos of him plastered all over the walls of my desk area and I stare at him all day. But I don't really think about him.&lt;br /&gt;I havent cried in days.&lt;br /&gt;I read the heart wrenching blog entries of the other women living without their babies and I'm &lt;i&gt;jealous&lt;/i&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I wish I felt their pain. I wish I could do nothing but cry all day.&lt;br /&gt;Then I would feel like I was doing him justice. As it is, I feel like I'm failing him more every day that passes. That I'm not enough of a mother to love him so much that I cant live without him.&lt;br /&gt;I wish so much that I didnt have to live without him. I wish he were HERE where he belongs...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;and now I'm crying. It seems that all I needed to do was write about him&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;Baby boy I miss you. I wish you were here with your mamas where you belong. I wish I had more than a blanket and your name on my foot. I wish I had you...&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1057048241540505042?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1057048241540505042/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1057048241540505042&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1057048241540505042'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1057048241540505042'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/i-feel-new-guilt.html' title='new guilt'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-9069617456778854082</id><published>2008-04-07T14:23:00.003+09:30</published><updated>2008-04-07T14:30:08.319+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tired'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='loss'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>tired</title><content type='html'>I want to sit down and write a thought-provoking, heartfelt entry about how I am these days. how much this life sucks. How I feel like I am barely existing rather than living. &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;But I am tired&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of emotion.&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of writing.&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of coming up with new awful scenarios in my mind.&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of waiting.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am tired of pushing thoughts of Caden out of my mind because I know that when I let them in it's bad, awful, hurtful, horrific.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know that pushing these thoughts out of my mind is unhealthy. That I'm not 'letting myself grieve'. I dont &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;want&lt;/span&gt; to grieve. Grieving &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;fucking sucks&lt;/span&gt;. I want to feel better. I want to be better. I want to enjoy life again. I want to feel hope again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I want to be 'over this' even though I know, fifty years from now I will think of him and cry like it happened yesterday. I can't get over this. I'll never be 'over this'. I just want to sleep. I just want it all to go away and have some peace.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-9069617456778854082?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/9069617456778854082/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=9069617456778854082&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/9069617456778854082'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/9069617456778854082'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/tired.html' title='tired'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3392337098421117023</id><published>2008-04-05T01:23:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:47:24.601+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='books'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='knowledge is power'/><title type='text'>Books on Stillbirth</title><content type='html'>I have always been an avid reader. I have well over a thousand books in my personal library at home and I visit my local library at least once a week. It has never let me down until now. Where are the books that will talk to me about stillbirth? Where are the good books on grief?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I believe that knowledge is power. I am looking for reassurance, I am looking for answers. I know I wont find answers to why my son died in books. But I am hoping to find some sort of reassurance, some form of coping mechanisms.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So my friends who have asked me repeatedly to tell them what they can do to help me at this time, find me books. Once I have got what I can from them I plan to pass them on to someone else who can use them. Second hand books are great. If you come across any, please, please pick them up for me. I know I have been terrible at replying to your phone calls and emails. I will get there, I assure you. Your continued love means the world to me, and I cant wait to see you all again. I went back to work for my first day today...baby steps right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Online friends - can you refer me to any books you have found that helped you out?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3392337098421117023?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3392337098421117023/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3392337098421117023&amp;isPopup=true' title='9 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3392337098421117023'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3392337098421117023'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/books-on-stillbirth.html' title='Books on Stillbirth'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>9</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1079499943379292055</id><published>2008-04-02T23:47:00.006+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:46:57.155+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the story'/><title type='text'>Caden's Story part two</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE HOSPITAL&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got into the hospital and went straight to womens assessment. I think I was supposed to be there at 5, or 5:30, whatever time it was we got there just after. There was a heavily pregnant bogan looking woman there in the waiting room and I looked at her jealous and all. The girl on the desk was on the phone and we stood there for ages. I wanted to tell her why we were there, make her feel bad. When she finally got off the phone I told her my name and she said to take a seat and someone would be with me soon. We sat down and everything seemed normal. I felt this need for everyone to know why we were there. Because I knew I looked like every other pregnant woman. Kim said to me “is it sadistic of me to want to tell her? To make her feel bad?” haha we think exactly the same way.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Another woman called us and put a hospital bracelet on me. The hospital bracelet I am still wearing. We walked up to labour and delivery. It was surreal.&lt;br /&gt;They put us in room 1. The midwife came in, Olivia, and introduced herself, said they put the stillbirths in this room so we are away from most of the babies but unfortunately it is the nature of the place that we may hear babies crying. She apologized. I said it was fine. I chose not to put on the hospital gowns laid out on the bed. We sat and ate our Subway together. Olivia offered us dinners but we chose to eat our Subways instead.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Everything from here out blurs a little but I will try and write as much as I remember. Olivia told us that we could get the TV on if we wanted but we had to go downstairs to pay for it. Because we would have to wait for the drs to come in, we decided to go together. It was strange walking through the hospital like that. I commented how our prenatal class was going on at that very moment in the same hospital one floor away. Kim said she hoped we didn’t run into any of them. I wanted to in a sadistic way. I wanted them all to know this tragedy we were in the middle of. I still don’t know why. We paid to get the tv on in any case, and went back up.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were waiting around for ages. Another doctor came in and said they wouldnt do an amnio on me (which the first doctor had suggested) because if the baby has been passed for a few days it wont reveal much, and they could get adequate samples from the baby after the birth, as we had agreed to an autopsy. He was really emotional. More than we were in fact. He went through what we would do, and that was about it. Well, thats all I remember.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Eventually the midwives came back in, they had to do an internal on me, so off came the pants and I lay there while they checked me and inserted the first lot of gels to dilate my cervix.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My pants never went back on. When I had to, I went to the bathroom with no pants on. Then there was the drama with the IV. I have delicate veins at the best of times. Two nurses tried in my right hand. It hurt so much – it was just the worst pain. Before they tried a second time they thankfully gave me a shot of local anesthetic. Because they didn’t get it that time either. Then they tried on the left side. No luck. They were about to go into the cubital fossa (not good) when the anesthetist arrived and took over. She said she didn’t want the cubital fossa as I wouldn’t be able to sleep properly. It took her a few goes as well but she finally got it in my left wrist. Later on in the morning it was hurting and the nurse flushed it out and holy shit that hurt. Apparently there was a clot. Ouch.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Olivia brought in some booklets about stillbirth etc. I got one sentence into the teddy love club brochure and read&lt;br /&gt;“An angel in the book of life wrote down your baby's birth.&lt;br /&gt;Then whispered as she closed the book&lt;br /&gt;"too beautiful for earth”&lt;br /&gt;and started bawling my eyes out. We cried some, then stopped. Never cried in front of Olivia much, she kept saying we were so brave.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyway. We watched some tv and Olivia made up a bed for Kim to sleep on. She said we could snuggle in together but the bed is a pretty tight fit. We snuggled for ages but eventually Kim went over to the bed. She gave us both sleeping tablets. Kim slept. I didn’t really. I kept waking up. I had a read of some of the literature that Olivia had left for us. Cried a bit off and on.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In the morning I was awake before Kim. We got our breakfast and I got another dose of gels. They didn’t really do an internal or anything. At some point Kim was looking out the window and saw Kate running with Jess lagging behind on her bike. Kim commented on how her friends are always close by, even when we dont know it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was feeling contractions about every three minutes but they weren’t too bad. They gave me the option of having an epidural, pethidene shots, or a PCA – patient controlled anesthesia. I wanted the pethidene and an epi, but they said the PCA would be good, it’s connected into my IV and I push a button every 3 minutes to release 1mg of fentonyl. I used it through the morning. We mostly watched TV and let time go by. I think I had a third dose of gels. Olivia originally said they would break my waters and start the drip to “blast the baby out”. But that day she told us we would just have the gels, and they wouldn’t break the waters because they had more effect on dilating me to get the baby out, because he was so small.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-weight: bold;"&gt;THE BIRTH&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Mum rang at 2pm just after Days of our lives started. I was feeling the contractions more at this point but nothing like when I was in labour with Rory. I hung up because the midwife had come in to speak to me. I called her back in and she asked if they were stronger yet. I said they were. She asked if I wanted the epi yet or a bolus of fentonyl (basically one big shot). I said the fentonyl, didn’t think I was ready for the epi yet. She walked out and I had a huge strong contraction. They were about 1 ½ minutes apart and I called her back and said I changed my mind I want the epidural now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;From there it all went like lightning. I was in so much pain. I was begging for something but there was no time for an epidural. They called someone in to get me the bolus of fentonyl. I started saying I needed to pee. It felt strong, but not like I needed to push. They were trying to unhook the IV so I could go to the bathroom. Then all of a sudden it changed and I needed to push. So I did. Not long after I felt like he was out. I asked if it was him and they said no, it’s the waters (okay that confused me…but anyway. I don’t remember my waters breaking at all but I know after it all I was saturated by so much water). I kept pushing. The nurses were almost yelling at the anesthetist to get the fentonyl into me. About a minute after they finally got the fentonyl in he was born at 2:41pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All in all my labour was &lt;span style="font-weight: bold; font-style: italic;"&gt;eleven minutes &lt;/span&gt;from when I asked for the epidural to his birth.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1079499943379292055?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1079499943379292055/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1079499943379292055&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1079499943379292055'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1079499943379292055'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/cadens-story-part-two.html' title='Caden&apos;s Story part two'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-5789578082246148899</id><published>2008-04-01T21:16:00.005+10:30</published><updated>2008-06-30T23:48:44.600+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><title type='text'>balloons for caden</title><content type='html'>We went down to the beach tonight and released the balloons that Lynn sent us on the day of Cadens memorial. It was really peaceful and lovely. Rory wanted Caden to fly down and get them but we explained the balloons would have to fly up to him.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i293.photobucket.com/albums/mm64/littlecadenjames/Picture167.jpg" height="526" width="350" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i293.photobucket.com/albums/mm64/littlecadenjames/Picture166.jpg" height="526" width="350" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img src="http://i293.photobucket.com/albums/mm64/littlecadenjames/balloons2.jpg" height="595" width="351" /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-5789578082246148899?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/5789578082246148899/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=5789578082246148899&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5789578082246148899'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/5789578082246148899'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/04/balloons-for-caden.html' title='balloons for caden'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2034035497142338570</id><published>2008-03-31T14:31:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:46:11.070+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>The most awful kind of torture</title><content type='html'>Waiting for SIX WEEKS for the results of your son's autopsy is the worst kind of drawn out torture. I have now come across another serious possibility of what was wrong with Caden. It fits far too well with the little that we know about Cadens problems. It fits better than Trisomy 18.&lt;br /&gt;I had found peace thinking if it was T18 he had no chance. That he went peacefully.&lt;br /&gt;But this new option means that an ultrasound and a blood transfusion would have saved him.&lt;br /&gt;I feel like Im going to throw up.&lt;br /&gt;And I still have nearly 2 weeks to wait to find out what it was.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This is killing me.&lt;br /&gt;The fact it could have been prevented.&lt;br /&gt;The not knowing what it was&lt;br /&gt;The not having closure&lt;br /&gt;The not KNOWING&lt;br /&gt;Oh god, if it could have been prevented.&lt;br /&gt;I dont know what I will do...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2034035497142338570?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2034035497142338570/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2034035497142338570&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2034035497142338570'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2034035497142338570'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/most-awful-kind-of-torture.html' title='The most awful kind of torture'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7436201173822758680</id><published>2008-03-30T22:43:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:45:53.231+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>My speech from Caden's memorial today</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Thank you so much for joining us today to celebrate the very short life of our son Caden. I suppose that normally at a memorial we would talk about all the wonderful things a person did in their life. Unfortunately we never got the chance to really know Caden. We never imagined we would have to say goodbye before we said hello.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I wanted to have this opportunity for all of us to acknowledge Caden, your love and support contributed to his existence and I’m sure he knows how much he was and is loved. Thankyou to everyone who has been thinking of us and Caden over the past few weeks, and for the flowers and cards. They do mean a lot and it does make a difference knowing there are so many people thinking of him and grieving with us.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He had a short life but he was loved so immensely in that time. Although we never got to hear his sweet little voice, you can be assured he knew the voice of every person here who used to talk to my belly before they would talk to me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p&gt;I didn't have to look into your eyes&lt;br /&gt;to fall in love with you.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't have to hear your cry&lt;br /&gt;to know you loved me too.&lt;br /&gt;I didn't need to hold your hand&lt;br /&gt;to cherish you always.&lt;br /&gt;Within my womb, we shared our hearts.&lt;br /&gt;You touched my soul.&lt;br /&gt;You sweetened my spirit.&lt;br /&gt;You gave me memories I'll always hold dear.&lt;br /&gt;Yes, my heart aches since you departed too soon.&lt;br /&gt;But A MOTHER'S LOVE does not end with death.&lt;br /&gt;For you are my child&lt;br /&gt;Forever my love is yours.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We still have no answers for what caused his death and we may never know. We were told that he passed away on the Tuesday and he was born at 2:41pm on the Wednesday the 27&lt;sup&gt;th&lt;/sup&gt; February. We got to spend many precious hours with him to make memories. He has dark, dark little eyes, and light eyebrows. His hair is fluffy and longer and darker on the sides. It’s almost strawberry blonde on top and dark brown on the sides. He has the brightest red lips and tiny ears, practically paper thin. He has Rory’s nose with tiny milk spots. His tiny hands still point with his index finger like in the ultrasound and he has such long feet! His big toes are shorter than his second toes!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;All that we have left now are our memories. We know that you all have memories, hopes and dreams, thoughts of the future that involved Caden. We are putting together a memory book and have paper on the table that we would love each of you to write something to be included. Whatever you feel is good, be it a message to Caden, to us, about the hopes and dreams you had for him or anything you feel.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Please don’t ever be afraid to mention Caden’s name. We love him and love to talk about him. We may cry a bit but don’t be afraid. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The mention of my child's name&lt;br /&gt;May bring tears to my eyes,&lt;br /&gt;But it never fails to bring music to my ears.&lt;br /&gt;If you are really my friend,&lt;br /&gt;Let me hear the beautiful music of their name.&lt;br /&gt;It soothes my broken heart, and sings to my soul.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We will always celebrate Caden’s birthday, and would always welcome you to celebrate it with us. Although our baby is not with us, he is our son and we love him. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Little one, little one&lt;br /&gt;Where have you gone?&lt;br /&gt;Your going has darkened&lt;br /&gt;The brightest dawn&lt;br /&gt;Why did you leave us&lt;br /&gt;So soon, so soon?&lt;br /&gt;Where can we look for you?&lt;br /&gt;Over the moon?&lt;br /&gt;On butterflies' wings&lt;br /&gt;In the heart of a rose?&lt;br /&gt;Who knows,&lt;br /&gt;who knows&lt;br /&gt;Where a little one goes?&lt;br /&gt;Where I have gone,&lt;br /&gt;I am not so small&lt;br /&gt;My soul is as wide&lt;br /&gt;As the world is tall.&lt;br /&gt;Wherever you look,&lt;br /&gt;You will find me there~&lt;br /&gt;In the heart of a rose,&lt;br /&gt;In the heart of a prayer.&lt;br /&gt;On butterflies' wings,&lt;br /&gt;On wings of my own,&lt;br /&gt;To you, I'm gone,&lt;br /&gt;But I'm never alone~&lt;br /&gt;I'm over the moon.&lt;br /&gt;I am home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7436201173822758680?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7436201173822758680/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7436201173822758680&amp;isPopup=true' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7436201173822758680'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7436201173822758680'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/my-speech-from-cadens-memorial-today.html' title='My speech from Caden&apos;s memorial today'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8147950691931680143</id><published>2008-03-29T00:51:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:44:54.819+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='progress'/><title type='text'>neither here nor there</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;On Tuesday I had a breakthrough! I realized that I have been shutting my senses off by driving everywhere – by walking around the corner to the shop to buy an iced coffee I felt like I was reconnecting. I found the positive. The sky is blue. There is a strong breeze. I liked feeling the cold concrete on my bare feet. I liked the sounds of my neighbourhood. Life is okay. Life is good. Life will be good again. I’ve missed my neighbourhood. We live in the nicest place on earth. We can walk to a beautiful beach any time we like. We live in a quiet, nice neighbourhood. I love the little Malaysian man that runs the shop around the corner. I’ve missed him. He is so cheerful, the way he greets every person like a long lost friend, even if he is in the middle of serving a customer - it is catching.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Haven’t got much to say these days. Im feeling just fine at the moment and not really thinking about Caden much. I feel awful for that though. I'm sick. Got a cold from Rory I think. I have so much to organize for Caden’s memorial party though. And still no motivation to do it&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:Wingdings;"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;. &lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Kim said last night that she gets angry and jealous when she looks at babies that are healthy when Caden isn’t. She then agrees with me and says that she’s glad they are healthy because no one deserves this.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;My mind is completely gone. I have NO memory whatsoever. I realized tonight, at about 7pm, that I had not gone in to pay for the hall for the memorial on Sunday - or picked up the keys. Cue frantic mess of trying to find a phone number to contact Nathan to try and get the keys so we can at least get into the hall. Kim drove out to see whether there was an after hours number on the door, and I called the council to see if they could contact someone. About an hour later, I got a phone call from Nathan himself telling me that he will come to let me in on Sunday personally. Oh bless him.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  Things are starting to come together - we are going to buy some balloons and stuff tomorrow. Ooh and we have appointments for a full body massage tomorrow morning. Bless Amy for getting us those!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8147950691931680143?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8147950691931680143/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8147950691931680143&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8147950691931680143'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8147950691931680143'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/on-tuesday-i-had-breakthrough-i.html' title='neither here nor there'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3430064524571147007</id><published>2008-03-25T17:33:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:44:34.429+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><title type='text'>three and seven</title><content type='html'>I realized the other day that Caden was born at 37 weeks weighing 3lb7oz and was 37cm long&lt;br /&gt;I was returning the books to the library on Sunday and read in the astrological baby name book that the numbers associated with Pisces babies are 3 and 7.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I was booking the hall for his memorial service. I was going to have it on the Saturday but then thought Sunday would be okay too. Turns out that Amy can make it the sun and not sat. Good. So I ring up and book. Was going to say 2pm like the baby shower was supposed to be, but changed my mind last second and said 3pm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Then I worked out that that means the memorial is on the 30th of the 3rd month at 3pm. Freaky huh?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to start planning it too. Write what I want to say. I think Kim won’t say anything, but Amy likely will. I want to have a memorial book there for people to write in, and candles for Caden – a table of candles for people to light and talk to him. I can’t think of what else I want to do. I need to get helium balloons for a balloon release and some other decorations. I want it to be like a party. I also need to do up his birth announcements and have them laminated to give out on the day as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need to get a move on to get all this done...&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3430064524571147007?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3430064524571147007/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3430064524571147007&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3430064524571147007'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3430064524571147007'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/three-and-seven.html' title='three and seven'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7239411938681155617</id><published>2008-03-24T16:26:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:44:14.550+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='progress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>Easter Sunday</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; SUNDAY&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Yesterday sucked. I spent most of the day upset. We went down to Marion Bay to see the Goldings&lt;st1:city st="on"&gt;&lt;st1:place st="on"&gt;&lt;/st1:place&gt;&lt;/st1:city&gt;. Everyone acted completely normally. I was very quiet. K asked what was wrong. I said “Everything” and he hugged me. But other than that everyone acted like nothing happened.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;When we got home I cried on the bed a little and just lay there. I think Kim and I had a few little talks. About how I know that life has to go on but I hated that everyone acted like nothing happened. She had come in and asked “what’s wrong” my answer was “my baby’s dead”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I feel like I just need that acknowledged.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;It was my first outing to people outside of immediate family. And I guess this is how it will be. Kim says we can’t force people to talk about it or expect them too. And I know that, but it still sucked.&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;Kim and I stayed up and watched a movie. I was happy, laughing, smiling, talking, I love that movie. Then it ended and I went into the bathroom and it just hit me. My baby is dead. That awful reality had an impact for the first time. I went from being ok to that sinking bad feeling, knowing this is my reality now.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;      &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I felt really disconnected again though. The same feeling I have had off and on since I was about 5 or 6 years old. Feeling like “what is the point to all of this?” and “why are we really here” and feeling really outside of myself. I feel like that a lot at the moment.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;This morning was hard. I didn’t put out Rory’s presents last night – left that to Kim. I kept thinking about how we should have been doing that for two boys not one. This morning sucked equally. I got up, reluctantly, but I didn’t take any photos. Just couldn’t bring myself to. I’m glad there are people here to get Rory in that happy mood because god knows I couldn’t. I received my gifts with barely a smile and didn’t really talk. I was sorry to be in a mood but I feel they should all understand and make allowances for me. I want some special treatment I guess. I should be allowed to be in a shit mood. Ended up sleeping until after lunch. I eventually got up and ate some lunch, now Kim has gone for a nap and I sit here trying to write all the thoughts I have had over the past few days.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt;I can’t even remember all of them.&lt;o:p&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7239411938681155617?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7239411938681155617/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7239411938681155617&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7239411938681155617'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7239411938681155617'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/easter-sunday.html' title='Easter Sunday'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-913484510984455527</id><published>2008-03-19T21:17:00.007+10:30</published><updated>2008-07-01T00:02:33.850+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cemetary'/><title type='text'>Easter for Caden</title><content type='html'>Today was Caden's due date, and it wasnt as hard as I thought it might be.&lt;br /&gt;We went to the memorial park to ‘see’ Caden and pick up the papers for his plaque. I wasn’t sad at all being there. There is a new child buried next to Caden now. And I think there are two more that have just been buried (no marker yet). Caden has a little white nametag thing now – but they misspelt Richards! I want to make another tag to stick over the top to look nicer. It’ll take up to another 6 weeks to get the plaque and before they even order it I have to do the order, they do up a proof, I have to approve the proof and then they send it off and from then it takes 4-6weeks to get the plaque.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I arranged his little pastel chickens around his marker, and sat his little bunny up against it. I was only doing it to take photos because it’s going to rain tomorrow, and I wanted to put the bunny in his memory box. But after I’d taken the photos I just couldn’t picture taking it away from him!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So when we left we went to 4 different stores trying to track down another one to make sure I have one for his memory box. We couldn’t find either the pastel chicks or the bunnies anywhere! I believe he sent them to me on purpose. It was the only bunny there when I bought it in a pile of big ducks. So we couldn’t find any but Im hoping it will still be okay when I go to get it, when I replace it with something else. I also put a butterfly sticker on his marker to pretty it up a little (lucky we had bought that pony today and it had stickers in it!). Kim put a yellow chick in the tree as well - a daredevil chicky out on a branch!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I attached some photos of the children’s garden where he is buried. It’s the prettiest place in the whole cemetery. The memorial park (cemetery) is a lawn cemetery. It was the first of its kind in Australia. Its so peaceful, just like a park. There are plaques set into the ground on each site but when you look across the rolling hills all you see is grass, trees, and flowers. No headstones etc. The children’s garden is enclosed in a circle of plum trees and has a rose garden in the middle. Its all protected and lovely. We can put any toys or windchimes, windmills etc in the trees and gardens. I love it. He couldn’t be in a better place.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-913484510984455527?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/913484510984455527/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=913484510984455527&amp;isPopup=true' title='8 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/913484510984455527'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/913484510984455527'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/easter-for-caden.html' title='Easter for Caden'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>8</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6060825070423700689</id><published>2008-03-14T22:14:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:43:05.661+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='trisomy 18'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><title type='text'>an epiphany</title><content type='html'>I THINK I KNOW WHAT WAS WRONG WITH CADEN!!!!!!&lt;br /&gt;It was my first thought. Trisomy 18. It all fits. Clenched fists with a characteristic 'point' of the index fingers, tiny size (3 pounds at 37 weeks), too much amniotic fluid, under developed fingernails, kidney problems, strawberry shaped head, wide fontanel, low malformed ears, fluid on his kidney and in his lungs, and the choroid plexus cyst that isn’t a problem on its own, but in combination with everything else is a marker. I knew it! I first researched it after our 20 week ultrasound showed the cyst in his brain. I disregarded it because he had no heart problems...but something made it stick in my mind. I knew it! (we dont get the results from the autopsy and tests until 10th april, this is just my own research and opinion)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Since I worked this out yesterday I have felt a new peace. I read a few stories of parents who had Trisomy 18 babies. It sounds like me. One was saying how she didn’t feel hiccups and kicks like with her other pregnancies. How the baby’s movements were slight and faint. Something like 95% are miscarried and of the ones who survive, less than 10% of those make it to one year. Very, very few survive their childhood and if they do they have severe mental and physical problems. It is called “incompatible with life”.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Once I worked it out I felt such peace. I got up, actually put in my contact lenses for the first time in a week and a half, had a shower and got dressed. I’ve worn the same thing every day (when I’ve actually got out of my pyjamas) but I wore something different. I tidied up a little and actually put away the single bed I’ve been laying around on in the lounge room. Then I went and got Rory from After School Care. When I picked Kim up from the train station I excitedly told her about the Trisomy 18.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Sounds stupid to be excited but we both are. It means that with proper genetic tests we can prevent this ever happening again. It is rarely genetic, usually a fluke. Even if it is hereditary there is only a 25% chance of having a Trisomy baby again…meaning 75% of any of our embryos will be acceptable and pass the pre-implantation genetic testing.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When we got home I showed Kim the webpages I had found. Reading more and more of the ‘symptoms’ of Trisomy 18 it all makes sense to us. I actually think I will be disappointed if its NOT the answer we get.&lt;br /&gt;If it was Trisomy 18 he never would have lived. And we had the best possible outcome. Had we been told at 18 weeks I would have had to choose to either terminate and deliver the baby, or carry him to term, knowing he would die shortly before or after birth. I would not have enjoyed the months of pregnancy. And I would not have terminated on the slight chance he might be okay. So in the end, he passed peacefully in the safest warmest place, we never had to make a choice and we got to enjoy every minute we had with him.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6060825070423700689?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6060825070423700689/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6060825070423700689&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6060825070423700689'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6060825070423700689'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/epiphany.html' title='an epiphany'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-2188132673883973324</id><published>2008-03-12T22:39:00.006+10:30</published><updated>2008-07-08T13:22:32.460+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>20,639 minutes</title><content type='html'>Two weeks today since I gave birth. 343 hours 59 minutes. 20,639 minutes. One week since we laid him to rest. I slept through the actual anniversary time I think (2:41pm). Maybe I was awake. I think actually I had just woken up. I think.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Today was a bad day. I cried in the middle of the day for the first time in awhile. I slept most of the day except when I had to deal with the swarm of police that turned up to deal with the psycho domestic disturbance next door.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went out to get iced coffee tonight at 7:15pm and cried on the way home. I just feel so melancholy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It has become really hard to read the updates on the 3rd trimester GLBT board. I was fine with it until just today or yesterday. I just read up on it and saw Marnie’s update. She was only one week behind me. To read about how the baby is sitting low, I don’t know it took my breath. Caden should still be where her baby is. No, actually, he would have been born by now. We should be in the hospital, or just got home. Not right. None of this is right. I feel like it will take us forever to have a baby. It will be a 2 year journey from the first pregnancy test to when we might have a baby. And that’s assuming that I get pregnant in the next few months. I’m starting to doubt even that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I picked up the photos I had printed at Kmart. I am so sad that so many of them are blurry. I hate that my camera didn’t turn up in time. If they had sent me the payment slip when I asked for it, it would have arrived in time and we would have better photos of caden. We can never take any more. That’s what kills me. All the things we can’t go back and redo.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kim just told me that I had night terrors again. Apparently I sat bolt upright screaming at 4:30am this morning. I have NO recollection of it. I didn’t go to bed until 3am. I know that much. But I thought I slept soundly. I wonder what I was dreaming about.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Im still getting the pregnancy weekly updates in my email. I delete them as I get them but it is so weird to still see “week 39” written there. Are you serious? I still wouldn’t be full full term yet? It feels like I gave birth months ago. I cant believe it has been only two weeks.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-2188132673883973324?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/2188132673883973324/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=2188132673883973324&amp;isPopup=true' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2188132673883973324'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/2188132673883973324'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/20639-minutes.html' title='20,639 minutes'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-931753903883428718</id><published>2008-03-11T09:39:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:42:09.887+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><title type='text'>Ask my Mum how she is...</title><content type='html'>&lt;b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;/b&gt;&lt;span style=";font-family:&amp;quot;;font-size:10;"  &gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; My Mum, she tells a lot of lies,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She never did before&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; But from now until she dies,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She'll tell a whole lot more.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Ask my Mum how she is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; And because she can't explain,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She will tell a little lie&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; because she can't describe the pain.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Ask my Mum how she is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She'll say"I'm alright."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; If that's the truth, then tell me,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; why does she cry each night ?&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Ask my Mum how she is&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She seems to cope so well,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She didn't have a choice you see,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Nor the strength to yell.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Ask my Mum how she is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; "I'm fine, I'm well, I'm coping."&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; For God's sake Mum, just tell the truth,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Just say your heart is broken&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She'll love me all her life&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I loved her all of mine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; But if you ask her how she is,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; She'll lie and say she's fine.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I am here in Heaven&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I cannot hug from here.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; If she lies to you don't listen&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; Hug her and hold her near.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; On the day we meet again,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; We'll smile and I'll be bold.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; I'll say,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; "You're lucky to get in here, Mum,&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="font-family:arial;"&gt; With all the lies you told!"&lt;/span&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[if !supportLineBreakNewLine]--&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;!--[endif]--&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-931753903883428718?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/931753903883428718/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=931753903883428718&amp;isPopup=true' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/931753903883428718'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/931753903883428718'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/ask-my-mum-how-she-is.html' title='Ask my Mum how she is...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7522076079692372616</id><published>2008-03-08T20:00:00.005+10:30</published><updated>2008-06-30T23:38:15.000+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='big brother'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='progress'/><title type='text'>The Big Brother</title><content type='html'>Rory is in a right state. He has been staying with mum. We took him to Kmart on Tuesday to buy Caden a present to go in his casket. The whole time all he could say was "I want I want" and sulking when he didn’t get his way. I think he isn’t dealing well but doesnt know how to cope with what he is feeling.  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I asked him “would you like to get your baby brother a toy to take to heaven with him?” He wanted to know how it would get to heaven. I told him straight that Caden would be put in a box and buried in the ground in a special place. We could put the toy in with him to play with in heaven. He wanted to know how it would get to heaven. He wanted to see Caden. I explained that he was already in heaven.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;His first response to my question of what kind of toy he might like to put in was “not a car because he might chew on it” I nearly burst right into tears. We walked around a bit looking at things. Asked whether he might like to get him a My Little Pony. Rory loves My Little Ponies. We looked at them but he wanted to keep looking. “Oh! Here’s the baby toys!” he said. I explained we couldn’t get anything big. It’s a little box. He eventually got to the soft toy aisle. “Maybe a teddy to cuddle when he goes to sleep” he said. I agreed that was a good idea. We found pastel coloured toys in just the right size. We picked a blue giraffe. It suits so well. Caden had lots of giraffes and a romper that says “silly little giraffe”. It’s perfect. We bought one for Rory to have as well.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;    &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When we got home he wrote on the card on the toy – it had a To: and From: and he wrote Caden and Rory on it. Then he wanted to write something else. He ended up writing I Love You on it too. He said "when I put the toy in"…&lt;br /&gt;I said “mummy and Kim will put the toy in”&lt;br /&gt;but Rory was firm, he wanted to see Caden. I told him it’s just his body; he has died and will be dead in the box. He still wanted to see him. He wanted to see him now. I explained we couldn’t see him now – I couldn’t see him today either, just tomorrow (the day of the burial).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I said “don’t you think you might be scared, or sad?” he didn’t know, but he was adamant that he wanted to see him. Who am I to deny him his little brother?&lt;/p&gt;&lt;center&gt;&lt;/center&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  I finally felt up to him coming home yesterday. Kim and I picked him up from school. It was the longest we have ever been apart, the 9 nights we were apart. He is being a little challenging but mostly just really over-affectionate, hugging and kissing a lot.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yesterday was actually a pretty good day. I got out of thehouse for a few hours, went shopping, and even managed to eat a meal for the first time in 3 days.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Let's call that progress shall we?&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7522076079692372616?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7522076079692372616/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7522076079692372616&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7522076079692372616'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7522076079692372616'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/big-brother.html' title='The Big Brother'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-8890032591763892304</id><published>2008-03-06T11:19:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:41:02.743+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='funeral'/><title type='text'>Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep</title><content type='html'>I didn’t say anything at the burial. I planned on writing something to say but I didn’t. And when I got there there wasn’t anything I could think to say. I didn’t cry much. Kim did. I felt so calm and together. Even the music didn’t make me lose it like I thought I would – like I did when I downloaded it.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We went to see him at the funeral home before the burial. In a strange twist of fate, the camera I was waiting for turned up in the morning. I took it with me and took a hundred photos of Caden in his casket. Rory ended up coming to see him, wanted to touch him, know what he felt like. So he did. Then he turned around and said "Can I go back to school now?". I'll write more about Rory later.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;One of Cadens feet was covered in ink from his footprints - Kim looked at it and said "We all have inky feet!" We both had his name tattooed on the side of our right foot on tuesday night - so that he will always walk with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We wrote messages for him on the back of photos of each of us holding him and lined the sides with photos of us. My mum put in a little hat with a St Christopher medal stitched on, kims parents wanted a little guardian angel pin which i put on his gown (they live on an island and can only fly out once a year so they couldnt be there). Rory picked out a little blue giraffe to put in with him too (we thought it was tiny but it was half his size! I forgot how tiny he was) and Kim and I made origami cranes which we put in with his blocks that spell CADEN. There was just no room for his blanket. And the newborn socks were 50 times too big. We taped a photo of Kim, Caden and I on the inside of the lid so he can see us right there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;He was smaller than I remembered. His hands and feet werent in great shape. I wish I hadnt pulled his little hands out to look at them. There was a reason they were hidden under his gown. I wish I hadnt looked, I wish I had kept the only memory of them in the hospital, soft and almost chubby - if a 3lb baby can be chubby at all. He was really gone this time. There was no trace of him there. I wished that Amy and Mum and Rory could have seen him like he was in the hospital. He wasnt the same yesterday. I cant bring myself to look at the photos. They arent as nice. I am glad I took them, and that I got to kiss his tiny head again, but I dont think I will look at them again, at least not for awhile. I thought I would want to be there for hours, but I was ready to go pretty fast. I couldnt hold him, he was really gone, and I was ready for it all to be over.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We left and went to sit in a park. It was pretty hot. 40C (104F).&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We got to the memorial park at 2:13pm.&lt;br /&gt;Caden's burial was quiet and short, when we got there i had nothing to say, as someone said - i think it was kim - all our words are in there with him.&lt;br /&gt;Chrissy was very upset so was Nanny Coral. I just sat there holding Kim, then we lowered him into the ground and placed two of our origami cranes on the casket. They had a blue ribbon wrapped around it to hold and lower him in with. The others threw some rose petals in.&lt;br /&gt;We only had my mum, kims sister, her aunt and her grandmother at the burial. Friends wanted to be there but we kept it private. It was so peaceful and I was strangely calm. I thought I would lose it but I really didnt. We just sat in silence and listened to his songs - Over the rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole; Per Te by Jovanotti; and You are so Beautiful by Joe Cocker. Kim was more upset than me. she cried more than she has thus far. I just held her and then hugged everyone in turn. Kim whispered "he will never be forgotten". Nanny Coral said that our love for each other will get us through.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We both feel quite calm and at peace knowing that Caden is where we wanted. I am so grateful that ive been so calm and collected (if in denial) so that I could take care of all these things.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-8890032591763892304?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/8890032591763892304/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=8890032591763892304&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8890032591763892304'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/8890032591763892304'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/now-i-lay-me-down-to-sleep.html' title='Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7578266367416987157</id><published>2008-03-04T18:59:00.004+10:30</published><updated>2008-06-22T01:51:38.323+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='memorial'/><title type='text'>Having to say goodbye...</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style=""&gt;Cadens burial is tomorrow. I am excited to see him again, but scared of how it will be to have that closure and have him in the ground. We went out to the memorial park yesterday, I felt I couldnt turn up for the burial and have that the first time I saw where he would be. It was truly a blessing that I did because I went into the office to see where exactly in the babies area he would be. I was told he wouldnt be in the perinatal section because it was full. He would be just adjacent to it. I broke down and firmly told them no, he would not be there. He had to be in the perinatal section. I was freaking out thinking I would have to find another place...They got someone to come out and talk to me, and he told me that there were a couple of places in the perinatal area and they would put him there if its what I wanted.We feel so lucky that we went out there - it would have been awful to turn up on the day and be faced with that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Kims great grandparents and her grandfather are buried in the same park - it is a massive place, but we found that her great-grandparents are buried so close to the childrens garden and they overlook it, straight into it. Her Paha (grandfather) is up at the gates so we feel he is guarding the entrance. Nanny C (still living) who we are very close to, will be buried with Paha, so Loves entire family will be there with Caden. I feel more at peace with it now, even though stepping foot in that childrens garden felt so very very wrong.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We arent having a funeral, just my mum, Amy, Nanny C and Aunty C will be there. We are doing our own committal. We are playing 3 songs - Over the rainbow by Israel Kamakawiwo'ole; Per Te by Jovanotti; and You are so Beautiful by Joe Cocker.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We will have oriental white lilies for him. He will be buried in his orange and blue blanket, with bonds socks on his tiny kangaroo feet, his Caden name blocks, a teddy from R and origami cranes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We are going in tonight to have his name tattooed on our feet. So he will always walk with us.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/span&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7578266367416987157?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7578266367416987157/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7578266367416987157&amp;isPopup=true' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7578266367416987157'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7578266367416987157'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/having-to-say-goodbye.html' title='Having to say goodbye...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-3494664617459271232</id><published>2008-03-02T12:14:00.003+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:39:33.969+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='the story'/><title type='text'>How it all happened...part 1</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I was up really late on Monday night (like usual). I was on the computer signing up and emailing companies to receive free samples in the mail.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I went to bed at around 2am and something felt wrong all of a sudden. I realized I hadn’t felt Caden in possibly days. I hardly felt him move at all the entire pregnancy. I thought it was because my placenta was anterior – we know now that it was because I had an abnormally huge amount of amniotic fluid and a tiny tiny baby just floating around in there – he barely touched the sides. Anyway I was lying there begging him to move for me so I knew he was ok. I was poking and prodding. I could feel his back and was pushing down on him and I could push him around in there. I felt sick. I knew something was wrong. I thought “what if he has died in there?” I wanted to wake Kim up and go to the hospital but it was the middle of the night and I really didn’t want to drag us all in there, taking Rory in again, just for them to put the monitor on and have him wake up. That’s what happened the first time we went in. I hadn’t felt him in days and then when they put the monitor on he was rolling around and kicking like crazy.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;So I didn’t go in. I lay there for awhile trying to feel him and feeling worse by the second. Somehow I fell asleep.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;In the morning I tried to make an appt with my GP just to have her check the heartbeat. She wasn’t working and the first appt with any other available Dr wasn’t until 10:40am. I couldn’t wait that long so I rang the shared care midwife at the hospital. All I said was that I hadn’t felt him in a few days possibly. She said “come in straight away”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I took Rory to school and drove straight into the hospital. I figured they would take me in straight away so I parked in a 2hr park thinking “I hope they’re done in 2 hours” but I figured they would be. All they were doing was sticking the CTG monitor on me right?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Like I thought, as soon as I said my name, they whisked me back into a room and set up the CTG machine. A young midwife called Bec came in and started trying to get the heartbeat. I was getting more worried by the second when after 5 minutes she couldn’t find it. They never had to look that long before. She called in a more senior midwife, but told me that she had seen a heartbeat briefly that should be the baby’s – it was in the 170’s so highly unlikely to be mine. The senior midwife came in and started looking. She found a heartbeat so fast that as soon as I heard it I just knew it was the baby’s and the baby was fine. She felt my pulse and looked worried, said “I’m going to get a scan on you, I can’t be sure that the heartbeat I’m picking up isn’t yours.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I couldn’t believe it – it was just too damn fast – how could it be mine?&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They wheeled in the ultrasound machine. Bec was holding my hand. The Dr Joseph came in and started. I was just trying to breathe. He said “There is baby’s head, okay…there’s a lot of fluid in there…” I figured it was okay and he was getting to the heart because why would he talk about his head if he was gone? Then he says “It does appear that for some reason your baby’s heart has stopped.”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I think my heart stopped too. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I screamed. I started having what felt like a seizure. I was screaming no. I couldn’t lie down, kept sitting up then lying down, just sobbing, hyperventilating. The midwives told me to listen to the doctor. What the fuck for? They couldn’t save him, what did I care what he had to say? He said he wanted to take me upstairs for a more detailed ultrasound. I was shaking and just asking Bec “how did this happen? How does a heart just STOP?” I got up and said “I need to call my partner. I need to call Kim” I pulled out my phone but there was no reception. I was shaking so hard. They took me into an office to a phone. I rang the factory. Kaeli answered. “I need to talk to Kim right now”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Kim got on the phone. I told her I was at the hospital. They couldn’t find a heartbeat. I was sobbing and she says that she couldn’t even understand what I was saying. She kept asking where I was and I said women’s assessment.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They took me up to the ultrasound. Asked if I wanted to see. I didn’t. I held my arm over my eyes and Bec had her hand on my arm holding it there for me. It took forever. He took so many measurements.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As we walked out Kim was arriving. I walked up crying and shook my head. Hugged her. “He’s gone”.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t remember walking back down except that I held Kim’s hand and Bec’s hand. They put us back in the room at women’s assessment. We sat in the chairs in shock. “I’m so sorry baby. I’m so sorry. How does this happen? How does it happen? I can’t comprehend this. I can’t even understand this. Why is this happening?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I really cried for the first time. I wailed. She held me and just had quiet tears.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Joseph came back in.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Told us that the baby was very small. He thought 2kg (he was really only 1.5kg). There was a lot of fluid on his lungs and I think his kidneys. He said “you would think that he would have showed up small on the ultrasounds”. Kim and I both said at the same time “HE DID”. Joseph looked concerned. My ultrasound reports weren’t even in the files. He looked at my first trimester screening and said there were levels of concern. He was concerned that the baby was 5 days small at 12 weeks, 10 days small by 18 weeks – he said the ultrasound reports weren’t done properly. If we had had them done at the hospital I would have been rescanned. They would have monitored me more closely. We have since come to the conclusion that there was a reason it was never picked up. We never would have terminated anyway.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He said we would know more if we agreed to an autopsy. We agreed without even needing to think about it. He said we need to know answers so that next time they can monitor me and might be able to give me medications to stop anything bad happening.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;span style=""&gt; &lt;/span&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Then he had to talk about me delivering Caden. My knee-jerk reaction was to say “I don’t want to deliver him. I want a c-section.” Joseph was adamant that they would NEVER suggest that. He said “This is NOT your last baby.” We liked that. We like that he made it okay for us to have another baby. But his point was that c-sections are a major surgery, your physical recovery is far longer and the emotional recovery was going to be bad enough. He said there are more complications. There is damage to your uterus and any subsequent pregnancies would be worse. Plus the baby was small. It would be easy to deliver. He said he understood why I wanted the c-section but they would never advocate that. We had the choice to be admitted then and there, or come back in a day or so to be induced. I chose to go home and have a few hours, then come back that night.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We walked out in shock. Went and sat in the park across the road. It was my mother’s birthday. I was supposed to meet her in an hour for lunch. Kim needed to call Amy. So we walked to the car, Kim crying, and drove home.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I rang mum when we got home and told her that I couldn’t meet her for lunch. She asked why. I told her because the baby died and we needed to go into hospital. I was crying of course and I think she was too. She wanted to come right over but I didn’t want that. I told her I needed her to be with Rory. I said I would call her later. Kim rang her parents and Amy. Amy just heard “the baby died” and said “I’m on my way” and hung up.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Kim and I lay on the bed in shock. Crying, I wailed a little, sobbed, and asked a lot of ‘whys’. We were relieved by the fact that there were so many problems with Caden. They think there may have been a chromosomal problem there from the very start. He may never have lived. We decided that there was a reason no one ever picked anything up. The choice was taken from us. The control was taken out of our hands and we never had to make any hard decisions. We didn’t have to live for months knowing he was sick and might not make it. We didn’t have to switch off life support machines or watch him go through surgery after surgery. We didn’t have to watch him be born, be whisked off to the NICU and die alone. He was never alone.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We were highly rational and calm in between the tears. Amy arrived and we were calm. I started to cry at one point, Amy left the room quietly and I wailed a bit. She came back when I was calm again. We got up and packed our things for the hospital. I kept looking at my belly in the mirror hardly understanding that he was gone. We asked Amy to pack up Caden’s things from his room and pick up the layby from the store. She took it all to her house until we are ready to have it back.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt; &lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We stopped at Subway on the way into the hospital to get something to eat when we got there because I didn’t know if we would get any food in there. I was okay but dreading someone asking when I was due or how far along I was. People always ask that. As we were leaving the girl said “Have a good night”. That seemed so ironic.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We got in there and went up to the room. They put us in room 1 – as far from any other rooms as possible so I didn’t have to be near any small babies. I was numb.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-3494664617459271232?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/3494664617459271232/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=3494664617459271232&amp;isPopup=true' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3494664617459271232'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/3494664617459271232'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/how-it-all-happenedpart-1.html' title='How it all happened...part 1'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-6788005702668044595</id><published>2008-03-02T07:42:00.001+10:30</published><updated>2008-04-06T14:39:07.050+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='grief'/><title type='text'>More thoughts</title><content type='html'>FRIDAY&lt;br /&gt;I cried yesterday because my belly button has sunk right back in. How stupid right? I sobbed over how it used to stick right out when I laughed.  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I regret not taking photos of me and Kim with my belly.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel like I'm still waiting for Caden to arrive. The real Caden. Like the one on my computer screen isn’t the real Caden. Because the real Caden wasn’t supposed to even be born yet. The real Caden was supposed to get dressed up in cute little blue clothes. And grow into his volleys and his everlast shoes. The real Caden was supposed to go to Gaelic games with me and be fat and big and cute.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The real Caden isn’t supposed to be tiny and precious and beautiful and dead.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-6788005702668044595?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/6788005702668044595/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=6788005702668044595&amp;isPopup=true' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6788005702668044595'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/6788005702668044595'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/03/more-thoughts.html' title='More thoughts'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-7524104844126195210</id><published>2008-03-01T09:51:00.002+10:30</published><updated>2008-06-22T01:42:51.276+09:30</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stillbirth'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='random thoughts'/><title type='text'>Random thoughts from the first days at home...</title><content type='html'>THURSDAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We are sleeping on the single mattress on the floor of the lounge room&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I had to write to my online people and I cried every time someone wrote a message saying they were crying for him, or that he is beautiful.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;We came home to a tidied house and a full fridge and freezer. Amy had even gone out to KFC and bought our favourite foods.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I cant stop smelling the gown, its how he smelled today.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Our house is already filled with flowers.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel numb. I cry every now and then but I can’t comprehend it all too well at the moment. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I love looking at his photos. They make me smile. I felt best when I had him in my arms looking at him. Olivia (our midwife) said “you two are different people when this little boy is in the room” with a smile.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It’s hard to remember I just gave birth yesterday&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I’m already back down 6kg. Minus 1.5kg baby, 400g placenta, virtually no blood loss – I therefore had somewhere in the vicinity of 4kg of amniotic fluid. That’s not right.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He has dark, dark little eyes, and light eyebrows. His hair is fluffy and longer and darker on the sides. It’s almost strawberry blonde on top and dark brown on the sides. He has the brightest red lips and tiny flaps for ears, practically paper thin. He has Rory’s nose with tiny milk spots. His tiny hands still point with his index finger like in the ultrasound and he has such long feet! His big toes are shorter than his second toes!&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Amy is the best. She even went through our mail while we were in hospital and took out anything baby related. I had spent the whole night he passed on the internet signing up for free stuff and samples – what shitty timing. So for the next few months there will be constant reminders coming.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;o:p&gt;FRIDAY&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/o:p&gt;&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I haven’t taken my hospital band off yet. Can’t bring myself to.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I don’t know what to feel. The tears burst out every now and then but that’s it.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I came home from telling R to find a package from Avent in the mail with samples. I was totally okay with it and put it aside for the next baby.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Everything along the way I have thought would be harder than it was. Telling R was hard but there were minimal tears from me and none from him. We think he understood but wasn’t as sad because he never met his baby brother. We know he will have a lot of questions though. The main one he kept asking was why did his heart stop? I cried a bit but just said to him “you know how we were going to have a baby? Well I had the baby the other day but he died. His little heart stopped beating and he died. So he will never be coming home with us. Do you want to see his pictures?”&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I showed his photos, and rory just wanted to know why his heart stopped. I said he was very very tiny and his heart just stopped. And he died. We told him that we will be very sad for awhile and will probably cry a lot. And that we would like lots of hugs and kisses from him all the time to make us feel better because he is our only baby now.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;He went in and told mum, and said "his head was tiny tiny like this" and cupped his hands together. Then he went and played with his cars in his room. It was better than I thought. Love said she was very proud of me and I explained it really well.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Talking to mum after a while I started having some anxiety and wanted to tell her to shut the hell up. Love sensed something was wrong with me and came inside (she was outside playing golf with R) I just couldn’t stand the sound of her voice any longer. I had anxiety all the way down the freeway then on South Terrace I asked Love whether she thought R understood and then it exploded out of me. It was a very brief sob and I felt so much better after. The knot in my chest and the anxiety was gone.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;When we got home I spent lots of time looking at his photos. He is so beautiful and looking at the photos doesn’t make me sad at all.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-7524104844126195210?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/7524104844126195210/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=7524104844126195210&amp;isPopup=true' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7524104844126195210'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/7524104844126195210'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/02/random-thoughts-from-first-days-at-home.html' title='Random thoughts from the first days at home...'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-610357774752962442.post-1495662686019734959</id><published>2008-02-29T21:00:00.001+10:30</published><updated>2008-07-08T13:23:05.138+09:30</updated><title type='text'>Caden James</title><content type='html'>&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/610357774752962442-1495662686019734959?l=lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/feeds/1495662686019734959/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=610357774752962442&amp;postID=1495662686019734959&amp;isPopup=true' title='12 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1495662686019734959'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/610357774752962442/posts/default/1495662686019734959'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://lifewithoutcaden.blogspot.com/2008/02/caden-james.html' title='Caden James'/><author><name>Little Miss Hopeful</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08709032854431313032</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='22' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_5XO9yO5h8FU/SF0mHVxHtOI/AAAAAAAAACU/69ANYItimSM/S220/art_sids_ribbon.png'/></author><thr:total>12</thr:total></entry></feed>
