Losing Our Angel Baby

Trigger Warning: Infant Loss

[I originally posted this on social media on 8/23/21. Just adding to my blog today.]

Hello, Loves.  

I am tearful as I type this. Sixteen-month-old Naomi is napping on my chest. I know it's very soon to be sharing with the world, but I am finding this is what this heart needs today. At all times, I need my people, and today is no exception.

Kurt and I are very sorry to share the devastating news with you that we lost our Angel Baby this week at 13.5 weeks of gestation. We were due in February. I ended up having scary medical complications the following night, landing me a 36-hour inpatient stay. It was painful and draining for me, and you can imagine that it was quite terrifying and overwhelming for Kurt to watch.

From the moment that we learned that our baby no longer had a heartbeat, we have been tremendously supported by our doctors, nurses, families, coworkers, and friends. Fellow school mom, Katie, was over with homemade muffins, a card, and a hug 30 minutes after I told her our news. Our sweet neighbor, Amy, was over in 90 seconds when Kurt called her at 10 pm on Wednesday night. Brother-in-law, Dave, then stayed overnight with the girls. Our sweet 15-year-old sitter, Lulu, skipped tennis practice in the morning to be with the girls. Super nanny, Hannah, watched the girls in the afternoon, bathed them, and helped them make a cheer-up poster for Mom and Dad. Sister, Molly, and cousin Will watched the babes on Thursday evening until my parents got into town. Sister, Ali, knows all too well some of the emotions we are starting to go through, and she has been a tremendous help. The Bayside and New Berlin Conraths were already on their way to Beaver Island, as we were all planning to vacation together for a week. They turned around and have been doling out love and support, as well. Our house is already filled with delicious, gifted meals, beautiful floral arrangements, and the most delicately-worded cards.

Our loving neighbor, Joyce, wrote to us in a note: "A heartbeat, no matter how small, lives inside you forever."

The girls have been absolutely incredible since we shared with them about the loss of our baby. June actually knew before we told her: "What's wrong, Mom? MOM. What's wrong? Do we not have the new baby any more?" When Rose learned the news, she continuously got in my face and did a very animated peek-a-boo to cheer me up, asking "Does that make you happy?"

Junie said a prayer with Kurt Wednesday night:

"Dear God,

I love you. I love my family.

Our new baby died, 

so could you please bring him back to us someday?"

Team Conrath is grateful for your ongoing love. I will be away from work the next couple of weeks to grieve, rest, recover, and be with family. 

Here are some pictures we have taken in the last 24 hours since I was discharged home from the hospital. We have laughed (mainly about Kurt accidentally spilling my own vomit on me in the ED), and we have cried. To say we are swimming in love is no exaggeration. Little Photographer June took many of these photos:

                         

                                 

Sending love to you all! And especially to all mothers and fathers who have lost babies and who have had difficulty conceiving. Those babies are all dancing together in Heaven and welcoming our Angel Baby with open arms.

A Letter to My Mum

 

[Article written by yours truly :) --  originally written for and published by THAT MAMA CLUB . Reposted on my own blog with permission!]

To my dearest mother:

I am sorry that I did not understand.

When I was younger, I did not fully understand the impact of pregnancy on one’s body. I was

not aware of the ways in which your body and mind had to stretch and grow in order to

accommodate the growing child (me!) within you.

I did not understand the fatigue you felt as you recovered from your deliveries and then

comforted and fed babies all day and then overnight. I didn’t know the effort that went into

bringing me into the world and the length of time required to fully recover from that

momentous event.

I did not understand the psychological, emotional, and physical exertion involved with feeding

your littlest loves. I wasn’t aware that women struggled so much with the decision (or lack of

decision) to breastfeed or not to breastfeed. I didn’t know about the heightened sense of

responsibility you felt as you were the primary nourishment for your child.

I did not understand the tremendous amounts of energy that you poured into your daughters

every day. I didn’t realize how much effort it took to make sure your young children were well-

fed, had diapers changed, went potty, went down for naps, and stayed safe from all hazards.

I did not understand the worries you felt. You worried about whether we were happy, healthy,

eating enough, kind to other children, and grateful. Most of all, you just wanted us to know

how absolutely loved we were (and are!).

I did not understand how you could feel isolated and lonely while home with your three tiny

beings. It would not have made sense to me then; there were people around you, only these

people required your time and attention. We couldn’t give back to you as much as you were

giving to us.

I did not understand why you awakened at 5 am each day to squeeze in your prayer time and

coffee in the silence. It sounded strange to me to set an alarm so early just to have those

precious moments to yourself.

I did not understand the sacrifices you made in your own career and personal life so that you

would be as available to us as possible. I didn’t think about how, in becoming a mother, you had

to give up some components of your life before children.

I did not understand how your heart hurt when one of us was sick. I could not yet know how

one person’s body and being could be so intertwined with another’s.

I did not understand the cognitive effort that went into planning every meal, carpool, vacation,

holiday, playdate—and the list goes on and on. I saw you working, but I just didn’t comprehend

the vastness of the to-do list.

I did not understand the communication and attentiveness it required to stay on top of the

school, work, and activity schedules of our family of five. We were absolutely busy, and in my

eyes, it was easy to have it all fall right into place. It felt seamless.

I did not understand your frustration when you had to remind us over and over again to do our

chores and to participate in the family responsibilities. It didn’t seem to be a big deal to me

then.

I did not understand how hard you and dad worked to ensure your marriage remained strong

and everlasting. I didn’t know that it took a conscious effort to be sure you were not drifting

apart amid the chaos of everyday young family life.

I did not understand, but still, I was grateful. I was thankful to have you as my mom and to have

dad as my dad.

And now I am a grown woman and wife, and I have three young, vibrant daughters, myself.

And I know.

I do now understand more of how you may have been feeling.

I wish I would have been able to know it then, but that, of course, is not how life works.

So, please know how utterly grateful I am to you for the decades of your life that you’ve poured

into nourishing and loving me and my sisters.

And of course, amidst all the craziness of having little children, I do now also know the absolute,

unconditional love that I feel toward my own children. And I know, without a doubt, that you

cherished (and cherish!) that love, too. I know what an incredible impact each of my children

has had in my life and how each child allows me to love greater and greater. I know the

precious feel of their snuggles and the delicate sound of their voices. I know so intimately how

these little people are helping to fulfill my life’s mission and to make my life more full and

complete—in such a beautiful way. And I know that you know all of that, too.

I love you so much.

Aren’t we the luckiest?

My Breastfeeding Journey

This is my breastfeeding journey:    

June was my first baby to nurse. When she was born, we danced the breastfeeding dance so gracefully. Everything was lovely. Breastfeeding, to me, was motherhood—and motherhood was breastfeeding.

As my exhaustion caught up with me around June’s eighth week, though, my postpartum depression and anxiety began rearing its ugly head, and breastfeeding was no longer graceful, no longer lovely. I stressed about every little piece of nursing. I worried about how I would find time to pump between patients. My supply had been strong, yet I now worried about how and where I would store my frozen milk. I researched every little detail to any unhealthy degree and set standards far too high. I found—and created—any reason to worry.

When a lovely friend, colleague, and fellow mama reminded me that giving formula was a perfectly viable option, I cried my eyes out. It was true. With much deliberation and support from my husband and family, I opted to allow my supply to dry up while we transitioned to giving bottles. It was a horribly scary time. I was angry, and I was so sad. While I knew something had to give to help me become whole again after the crippling weeks of anxiety, I still felt so defeated. I feared I was no longer the mother I dreamt I would be.

And then I gave the bottles.

And my beautiful daughter ate.

And she grew.

And she was happy.

And I grew.

And I was happy.

And I could relax.

And now Baby June is three. And she’s a big sister twice-over. And I have nursed two more babies. And I have fed bottles to these babies. And we are happy. And we have learned to be flexible. And we have learned to dance our own dance.

Mama & big girl, June

Nursing June in the hospital!

Nursing-- & hiking!-- Rose

Post-nurse Naomi

And we are so, so proud of who we are, where we’ve been, and where we’re going.

Own your story, give yourself (a whole HEAP of!) grace, and know that what is right for you is right for your child.

Also, June told me last night that I make her heart happy. If 8-week-old June could’ve spoken, I know she would have expressed similar sentiments. Her mama was working so hard and truly doing her best. Aren’t we all? ☺️ Keep on keepin’ on, friend. You make our hearts happy!

Infant Equipment

Our rockstar Godmama to our little Mamie is pregnant with her first precious bundle and just reached out for clarification on my thoughts on infant equipment. Infant equipment would include any type of "container" (a harsh word, but pretty accurate!) in which you can place your babe to rest, including swings, bouncy seats, car seats, etc. I sent her a response and thought it might be helpful to share with other new mama friends, too. 

Hey, pandemic! This COVID baby has a message for you.

Let me start by saying that: 

• My girls do spend (or have spent) some time in baby "containers."
• I will occasionally let the girls take (supervised!) naps in the containers when they fall asleep. 
• The containers do help a mama's sanity, which is not to be disregarded.
• As new parents in this age, we are inundated with baby equipment options that are (sometimes!) somewhat affordable and are advertised as necessary for a happy baby and/or good sleeper.
• You are very much still a wonderful parent if you use baby equipment often.

Mamie love kicking back in her bouncer

Having said that, I will also say that I am not a big fan of leaving baby in the car seat or bouncer/swing for too long-- and especially not during naps. Why?

1. Increased risk of torticollis, which is a condition in which baby has asymmetrical neck muscle tightness. When a baby is super young (typically under 2-3 months), they can't hold their head up in the straight, or midline, position on that reclined surface. Instead, their head will tilt (ear to shoulder) to the side. This is especially true when the baby is sleeping-- and then, really at any age that they would be in the baby equipment.  If the baby has an asymmetry to begin with, it will be accentuated if they spend more time in the car seat, swing, bouncy seat, etc, as the head tilting will further cause tightness in the neck muscles on that side. I often treat babies with torticollis, and a big piece of my treatment is education in transitioning the babies out of these types of baby equipment.

2. Increased risk of-- and/or worsening of-- flatness on the head. If baby has a neck turning preference at all, and if they fall asleep in a container, they inevitable start to form a flat spot on the back of their head. Staying in that equpiment makes it worse, as it's harder to inadvertently roll off of the flat spot.

 

3. Limited spontaneous movement. This is sort of a hard one to describe. Basically, though, in a container, babies are not able to move much. On a flat surface and even in some carrying positions, babies have many more opportunities for movement-- and even at a very young age. For example, parents often note that their tiny baby (2-3 months old) will wiggle all over the crib at night! In my opinion, it's good to let the baby have their freedom to move, even if it awakens them in the beginning.

4. Keeping a babe in a container reduces the chance for Tummy Time, and Tummy Time is THE BEST THING. I have heard that an expert pediatric practitioner calls Tummy Time the academics of infancy, and I agree!  I know, I know, I know. Let me guess? Your baby hates Tummy Time. At a young age, every baby hates it after a few minutes. It is a fact that babies often are not fans for long periods of time, but if you start from day one (or start today! It's not too late!!), it is much more palatable for the babe. There are also many strategies for improving even the youngest baby's Tummy Time tolerance. [Stay tuned for a separate blog post!]

Tummy Time help from the biggest babe!
(Supervised, of course!)

In an ideal world, your babe would tolerate 60-90 minutes (or more!) of Tummy Time per day by 4 months of age. I do not mean all at one time, and Tummy Time does not only have to happen down on the floor. Your baby can also do Tummy Time on your chest, across your lap, in your arms, over a ball, face-to-face, etc-- stay tuned for another post). Also in an ideal world, your babe would spend only 20-30 minutes, 3-4 times per day in any type of baby equipment. This is just an ideal world, though, and the ideal is certainly not always met in my house! 

*I should add that a baby wrap/carrier IS great for your baby, as long as the baby has good alignment while inside the carrier. With a baby carrier, you want to be so certain that the baby is always positioned to allow proper breathing, leg alignment, and, of course, safety as you move about. If you need to bend down while wearing your babe, 100% bend with your legs! And if your baby has any neck tightness/asymmetry, try to sometimes position them with their head sometimes turned to the right and sometimes turned to the left.*  

Other alternatives to having your babe spend lots of time in equipment is placing the babe on a blanket on the floor, or if you’re worried about a dog or sibling running too close to resting babe, in a pack n play or a similar playpen. 

Again, just my two cents, but I am confident that this opinion is shared by many in my field. And I DO put my babes in bouncy seats and other equipment every once in a while. We also take long (6-8 hour) car trips to Ohio and Michigan often, so the teeny babes sleep for prolonged periods in their car seats then. Feel free to take or leave this advice on baby equipment. You are a rockstar mama.

Do your best, get your rest, and enjoy those baby snuggles!

Fall, 2018 apple orchard trip with the Junie and Rose.

And, Not But

A wise friend of mine once shared with me the importance of using the word "and" rather than using the word "but." It is important to recognize that I (we! you!) can feel more than one emotion at once. And all of those emotions are valid.

So, here goes:

I am in love with my baby girls, and I need a break from them.

Yes, I need a break from them.

I am in my home today, and Baby Naomi and her sisters are not here.

I am sitting at my kitchen table, and there is no baby attached to my body.

I am eating a dirt cake cup (YUM) that my sweet neighbor just dropped off, and no one is trying to 'flit' (split) it with me.

I am using my computer, and no sticky fingers are crawling all over the keys and the screen.

I am collecting my thoughts, and I don't hear any tiny little voice asking, "Mom? Mom? Mom?"

I am alone in my home, and I LOVE IT. 

If you know me, you know that I am obsessed with these baby girls (and husband!) of mine. I am so grateful to be the mother of this strong girl tribe; Kurt and I are certainly blessed beyond measure!

Also, between the pandemic, my maternity leave, and a host of other factors, catching more than a moment of solo me-time has been quite the challenge recently. In fact, it has been over 14 weeks that I have been alone in my home for more than 30 minutes.  And this quiet, this calm... it is so reparative.  It is not an indictment on my littlest loves; it is simply a truth.

After I had Junie, my first babe, I would have felt ashamed and embarrassed to share these feelings. Shouldn't I always want to be near my little ones? Shouldn't I always love to hear the sound of their excited squeals-- of them calling out to me?  The answer, I have learned, is an unequivocal no. 

Through my work, I am fortunate to see a little slice-- a cross-section, if you will-- of all different types of mothers.  Two of the themes of parenthood that I hear far too frequently in the work with my clients and their families are guilt and shame. I hear it from fathers, too, but mainly from mothers. Wonderful, attentive parents subtly (or not so subtly) express that they don't know if they're doing enough, they don't know if they are BEING enough for their babes.  This self-doubt and self-deprecation has GOT to stop, friends.

Mama, you ARE good enough. In fact, you are better than 'good enough.' You are strong. You are a force. You were meant to be the mother of your child, and no one can do a better job than you can. You are a phenomenal gift to your child. 

Am I grateful for this time? Absolutely.

Do I know that I'll miss this chaos like CRAZY in upcoming years? Absolutely.

And am I exhausted? Absolutely.

Peace out! ✌Time for a quick bowl of cookie dough ice cream and a nap!

Grateful for my OWN SELF!

[Note: I first wrote this as part of a "Monday Morning Meditation" to be shared with my colleagues at Children's Wisconsin. It was originally shared in September of 2019. Enjoy!]
___________________________________________

As part of our bedtime routine, my young daughter, June, and I have started praying an adapted toddler version of the Examen. The Examen is a lovely Jesuit prayer technique that involves these 5 steps:

1.     Become aware of God’s presence.

2.     Review the day with gratitude.

3.     Pay attention to your emotions.

4.     Choose one feature from the day and pray on it .

5.     Look toward tomorrow. (https://jesuitprayer.org/examen/ )

Specifically, my daughter and I tend to focus our prayer around gratitude. As we lay in bed, I ask her, “Junie, what are you grateful for today?” When she was a few months over two and just starting to actually string together words as sentences, she once answered me, “I’m grateful for my OWN SELF!” I laughed so hard, gave her a kiss, and told her she should always be grateful for her own darling self. I will never forget that little voice proclaiming her love for herself.

As adults, we are often prone to self-doubt. Earlier this morning, a mother of one of my infant patients just exclaimed that she is always her worst critic. How common is this? How often do you find yourself second-guessing your recommendations or focusing on your “areas of growth” rather than on your strengths? We constantly feel pressure to be better, to be smarter, to do more—as providers, as employees, as parents, as friends, as daughters and sons.

When you were a child, whether or not you voiced it, you likely felt proud of and grateful for yourself. Do you still feel that way?  [Hint: YOU TOTALLY SHOULD. You are amazing.] Please allow this Monday Morning Meditation to be your reminder to be good to yourself today and to appreciate all of your quirkiness and uniqueness!

“You yourself, as much as anybody in the entire universe, deserve your love and affection”

 – Buddha

Be well, dear ones!

#strongasawoman

A running (no pun intended) joke in my family, my cousin’s young son once asked me, “How did your legs get so big?”

While some ladies may take this as an insult, I found sweet Kaleb’s innocent question to be a compliment.  How did my legs get to be so big, little guy?  I’ll tell you.

My legs have gotten to be so big from playing roughly 7,000 hours of soccer, 4,000 hours of basketball, and 3,000 hours of softball over the past 27 years. Running four half marathons and one full marathon over a total of 680 minutes hasn’t hurt either.   My body is strong so that I can hold Plank, Tree, and Chair poses as long as I’d like.  I can throw a good upper cut at my boxing coach, Matt Morin, can propel my body (somewhat) swiftly through a lake or pool, and can bike uphill faster than 200-pound men, too. Yesterday, my strong body helped me complete my first sprint triathlon. And might I add that my trusty body has been doing all of this with my new ACL, which I acquired in 2006.  Nice job on my surgery, Dr. Fenton!

Woodnote Photography

At work, my strong body helps me serve as a physical therapist for hundreds of infants, toddlers, children, and teenagers annually. I hop, skip, climb stairs, lift, balance, and run continuously for several hours every day, and I get paid to do so.  Fun, right?!  At home, I mow my grass, take my dog for walks, bear-hug my husband, and carry loads of clean laundry up and down the stairs with my big, strong body.  And yes, I AM all about that bass (shout out to my girl, Meghan Trainor!)

I am so strong that I swept my husband off his feet when I first met him at a pick-up soccer game, at which, I was one of two women playing in a sea of twenty grown men. (Yeah, Elizabeth Crane!)  I proceeded to lift my husband up on our wedding day, and when we just moved into our new home, I thought it’d be better if I carried HIM through the doorway, rather than have him carry me through.  (No offense, Kurt… I love you like crazy, and I think YOU are so strong, too!)

My legs aren’t my only big feature, sweet Kaleb. If you’re wondering, I have a pretty big heart and a pretty big brain, too.  My strong heart allows me to comfort parents who have lost their children, to encourage young kiddos who are struggling with cancer and other illnesses, and to build up my husband, parents, and sisters when they’ve had hard days. My strong brain has helped me through twenty years of somewhat strenuous academics, and it helped me earn a doctorate at the age of 23. I am strong enough to know when I need help, and when I need to slow myself down.

One day, I pray that my strong body allows me to bring new lives into this beautiful world.  I pray that I can provide sustenance to my babies, and I pray that I will have the strength to carry on day after day while my infant and toddlers transform me into one tired mama.  I will use my strength to lift my babies off the changing table, to throw my kids into the pool, and to finally send them off to college, where they will be able to further grow and develop into strong individuals, too.

So, you wonder, am I as strong as a man?  No, I am as strong as a woman, and that is pretty damn strong.

Thank you, Mom and Dad, for helping me grow into a strong, confident woman.  Girls, young and old, celebrate your beautiful bodies, and be PROUD of who you are!

God bless you, Serena.  Thank you for being #strongasawoman.