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.

About Mental Health and Wholeness...

One person I am grateful to know in 2021 is my mental health therapist.

I recently read an article during which the author mentions her therapist and follows that up with "Yes, I see a therapist, and you should, too!" I laughed and thought, "You go, girl!"

While I understand that seeing a therapist is not for everyone, I do believe it is worth every person at least considering.

Could you benefit from seeing a therapist? If you answer yes to any number of these questions, perhaps it is worth considering in 2021:

• Are you a human being?
• Do you have family members who are human beings?
• Do you interact with human beings on a regular basis?
• Are you raising tiny human beings?
• Have you been living through 2020 and now the first 10 days of 2021?
• Do you push emotions down deep into your toes?
• Do you have a history of trauma or abuse?
• Have you ever lost someone you loved?
  
• Do you feel overwhelmed by your to-do list at home or at work?
• Do you have problems with boundaries?
• Are you not sure that you know what boundaries are?
• Would you like help in learning to live the whole breadth of emotions and life?

One of the main things (of thousands, of course!) that first drew me to my sweet husband was his emotional intelligence. Seriously. If you know my goofy and light-hearted Kurt, you may laugh at this. But truly!  He is (mostly!) a wise man. I credit some of this to his decision, in his late twenties, to seek out a therapist for himself. He didn't totally connect to his first or even second therapist, but he kept persevering and did find a great match. I am so proud of young Kurt for doing this. Good job, Past Kurt!

[If you're still reading this and are looking for a funny story about a therapist: The first time Kurt went out to dinner with me and my parents, he secretly pointed to a table next to us and whispered to me: "This is a little awkward, but that's the lady I used to see." I looked over and saw a woman, probably in her mid-sizties, who was beautiful and graceful. I was pretty confused throughout our meal, as I admittedly didn't know everything about Kurt at this point but was surprised he hadn't told me about a much older girlfriend. It turns out 'the lady he used to see' was his therapist. We have come to affectionally call her 'the cougar.']

It doesn't have to be about mental illness, friends. It very well could simply be about mental health and wholeness. 

Not an ad for therapists, just a PSA from your self-care-loving friend!

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!

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!

Froth and Bubble

“Life is mostly froth and bubble,
Two things stand like stone.
Kindness in another's trouble,
Courage in your own.”

Adam Lindsay Gordon—19^th century Australian poet and politician

At the Old St. Pat’s (Chicago) livestream mass last weekend, Monsignour Kenneth Velo shared this above quote from 19^th century Australian poet, Adam Lindsay Gordon. 

I have thought about it nearly continuously since Sunday.

Two things in our lives are most important: kindness towards “the other” and courage in yourself. I just love it. 

And how perfectly applicable to these times.

Every single one of us is needing to be extra courageous these days. There are humans suffering and dying alone in hospital beds.  There are nurses, doctors, and other hospital staff importantly doing their work amidst all this chaos. There are parents at home with their infant child—not able to allow anyone else nearby for support. There are adults and children with disabilities, trying to access the services that they have always needed—and quite possibly with less assistance than usual and necessary. There are elderly men and women—isolated in their small nursing home rooms, craving much-needed interaction. There are deployed military personnel, unable to return home to their families due to flying restrictions. There are moms and dads juggling "home-schooling" their children while also trying to manage their professional lives. There are high school and college seniors, missing out on days, weeks, and months that they have dreamt about for years. There are families scraping to get by-- families who were already living in poverty and now have these additional challenges. There are parents and young persons losing their jobs. There is so much uncertainty. There is so much fear.

Yet, at this time, we are called—more than ever—to be kind to one another… to be light for one another… to be Christ for one another. St. Teresa of Avila shared this amazing prayer that has always touched my heart and fueled me to be better:

“Christ has no body now but yours.  No hands, no feet but yours. Yours are the eyes through which he looks with compassion on the world. Yours are the feet with which he walks to do good; yours are the hands through which he blesses all the world.”

In this tragic, ever-changing time, we are being called to be kind to one another. I know we’ve all seen and heard of kind acts in our communities.  Baked goods and donated food items for hospital personnel working the front lines. Makers sewing masks around the clock to keep one another safe and protected. Grandparents walking miles to their children’s homes, just to look in the window at their new grandbaby. Young folks grabbing groceries for elderly neighbors. An Italian priest selflessly giving up his ventilator for a younger person. Children making cards to share with those who are lonely. Grandchildren, sons, and daughters hurriedly teaching their elderly loved ones to use Zoom, Facetime, and other means of virtual connection.  Strangers waving and making small-talk on the streets—from six feet away, of course!

With the “Shelter in Place” and “Safer at Home” mandates, we are being challenged to be super creative in how we are able to tangibly share love for our brothers and sisters. I have faith in us, though.  Faith in the world. Faith that we will band together and emerge stronger as a people.

While I feel disheartened and worried about many aspects of our current crisis, I also feel grateful to be so intimately connected to fellow humans across the globe at this time.

 Tell me: how will YOU and your family choose to spread kindness today? How will you demonstrate your courage and love for yourself and others?

[Sidenote: I am currently sitting in a hospital bed. I am not sick—I am merely bringing a life into the world!  This little piece of writing is helping me shift my focus off of my regular contractions. What a time to welcome a new child, right?!  While it is far from ideal, I am choosing to find the positives and am hopeful that this little cherub will make his or her way into a world that is kinder, more connected, and more compassionate than ever. Also, we are graciously accepting all prayers for a healthy babe and a safe and smooth delivery!]

Be well, my loves!  And please—take care of one another!

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!]
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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!