"I know he's whole the way he is, but it still sucks" March 11, 2025

March 11, 2025

It's been about 2 weeks since finding out about Jensen's diagnosis. What a whirlwind. It's flown by honestly. We found out on Monday, Feb. 24th after my 20 week anatomy scan, got into maternal fetal medicine on Tuesday, Feb. 25th for my official anatomy scan to confirm his diagnosis, then Wednesday, Feb. 26th, I flew out to Idaho for a preplanned trip to visit my family. Me and the boys went for a week and kept busy with cousins and grandparents. It seemed to all workout as far as the timing as it was good for me to be in person having such deep conversations about Jensen's diagnosis with my family. But I won't lie, it made for an emotionally exhausting week. My body seemed to be grieving faster than I was processing as I would wake up around 5:30am with my heart racing, stomach ache brewing, and tears ready to be released. These symptoms slowly disappeared near the end of our time in Idaho. While it was hard to have these conversations, it's helped me cope a bit. I found the hardest thing about being in Idaho was the realization that the next time I would most likely see the people I love would be at my son's funeral...

Today, March 11th, a perinatal nurse and social worker from a hospital called me and talked through everything. It was a good hour and a half phone call, but I noticed mentally I was drained afterwards. We talked all things from how to chat with my 3 and 2 year old about their baby brother's death to Jensen's birth plan and how to help engorged breasts once my milk came in with no baby to relieve them... 

In the 2 weeks that we've had this diagnosis, I've found the most uncomfortable thing has been people looking at me like I'm a wounded puppy instead of just talking to me about Jensen. I understand these people are hurting for me and care and it's well intended, but being on this side of something this traumatic, I now understand that it doesn't help. I wish people would just talk to me about it. If I'm not in the mood, I'll say it. Losing my third son to Anencephaly is my new reality. Something I'm facing everyday. I'd much prefer we just talk about it instead of you just avoiding the elephant in the room. I can also recognize that I was probably that person that avoided the elephant in the room many a times. I was the person who looked sadly on another in their trauma instead of asking kind and caring questions and sitting in their hurt with them. Of course, my feelings towards their hurt were well intended and I'm sure I'll do it in the future, but I'm learning and hope to be better...

I've found that I'm getting triggered without even comprehending what's triggering. I hear the word "brain" and feel weird. I see pictures of cute babies and I notice how cute their round head is. I see influencers posting what they wore/ate in a day 15 weeks pregnant. I see a friend sharing pictures of their cute newborn and I just close out of social media. I don't feel anger or jealous. It's just hard. I'm not sure if this is normal, maybe the anger and jealousy will come, but for now, it's almost like subconsciously I'm not allowing myself to even go there. I know the thoughts it will cause, I know the feelings it will bring. I don't want to sit in a "poor me" place wishing for Jensen to be made whole. I know his diagnosis is not changing. I know he's whole the way he is, but it still sucks. I don't want to allow the anger or jealousy to creep in. So maybe if I just don't look at these things, it won't...

I've connected with a few people who have had children born with fatal diagnosis similar to Jensen's. Those conversations have been so nice as these people can understand almost exactly where I'm at and what I'm feeling. They've also been tender as I've started grasping that the hard conversations about Jensen's life will never go away. For some reason, I thought they would subside once I no longer had a huge belly and waddled everywhere. While people can easily look at me and assume I'm preparing to bring a beautiful new baby to our home, instead, I'm calling mortuaries and planning a funeral...

Life will never be the same... and today, while I've looked okay on the outside, I've felt completely numb on the inside. 

I'm aching to just bring my beautiful baby boy home. 

I'm aching to put up his bassinet beside my bed and get all his cute newborn clothes washed and ready for him. 

I'm aching as I'm teaching my 2 toddlers about their baby brother named Jensen in moms belly and hearing them say his name and talk about how they also have a baby Jensen in their bellies. 

How did this happen?