44

Today marks the 44th birthday of my still born brother. When my mom was still alive my sister and I would have made sure to send a bouquet of white flowers to my parents (if we weren't with them at the time). We didn't have many other rituals to mark the day - when we were little my sister and I knew about the brother we never had, my mom sometimes  told us little snippets, but that was about it.

Only later did I understand why she reacted to things the way she did. She thought it was ridiculous when in films / TV shows women in labor would be screaming (my dad had asked her not to scream when she went in to the L&D room to deliver her son while he had to wait in the hallway - she didn't scream when she had me or my sister either and delivered all three children without epidural or other pain medication. I had M. Gourmand without epidural too and I think my screams were heard on the entire L&D floor and I don't know how I would have managed without...); when she hurt herself she would say "I've faced  bigger fires before" and wouldn't complain about it;  she would tell us to 'enjoy life' before getting pregnant - feeling she and my dad had been too young (they were in their early twenties) and to 'green' to face those doctors with their horrible bedside manners that first time around (and probably even a feeling of mother's guilt that she might have been able to change the outcome had she been more assertive).

Since she died, don't really know how to celebrate this day with my dad. Anything that refers to the time with my mom expressed in the presence of his new wife still seems to make him nervous, as if she wouldn't be able to deal with his past (or he just doesn't know yet how to fit everything into his head and heart yet). I just sent him a text message to let him know I haven't forgotten. I thought that would be it, but now that I'm writing this I've decided to ask my sister (who is with them in their house in the South of France this week) to buy a small white bouquet (or gather some white wildflowers if that's easier) for my dad to remember his son.

The bracelet - three firstborns

As a follow-up of this post, I had planned to post this in July, but then so many things got in the way that it was never finished and kept in my drafts folder way too long.

July used to be a sad month for my mother, as it holds the day she gave birth to her firstborn, a stillborn son.

But then, 33 years later, my sister made it a bit brighter month, by giving birth to her firstborn, a healthy boy, on July 5th. My parents had planned to arrive in time for the birth (my sister lives in California, my parents in Holland), but as the boy decided to come earlier than the due date, they were too late. At the time I was still living in the US, so I flew to California to help out the first few days, until my parents arrived. We then spent some time all together (my husband also came over in the weekend), which was pretty special (and perhaps a bit overwhelming for my sister as well). My parents were as proud and happy as grandparents can be.

My nephew turned 10 this summer. We took him rock climbing as a birthday present when the whole family came to France in August.

Another seven years later (thank you IF...) another firstborn was expected. Mine. It would be my parents' third grandchild. My mother, always anxious the last few weeks before a due date, wanted to be around again, even though I thought we had agreed they would not come before the baby's arrival as per our wishes... But her restlessness was too strong, so they came on the due date itself, only the baby decided it would stay put for another 10 days... It caused a lot of stress, even anger on DH's part, that took a long time to settle. I wrote a little bit about it here. But there was a lot of joy too. His coin on the bracelet is bigger than that of the other grandchildren, because they jeweler didn't have the smaller size in stock at the time, but my mom told me he also deserved it, the much wanted child... This miracle boy turned three on July 6th, yes just one day after his cousin (and if you would keep the Pacific time zone, they were born on the same day). We celebrated it at the beach in Holland.

Before she died, my mom told me July had now turned from a dark to a happy month for her, celebrating the birthdays of her two grandsons.

The heart on the bracelet belongs to her own firstborn, my brother, born still on July 23rd. I wrote about it here. I wish I could have talked more about it with my mom, especially after I'd become a mother myself. After she died, my dad decided he wanted their son's name engraved on her tombstone as well - he was torn that he hadn't thought of it before she died, and he hadn't been able to share it with her. I don't think it matters, I think somehow she knows it anyway, and it feels good to see those two names together, engraved in the glass, especially now that my dad has a new partner and will most likely not be buried next to my mom when his time comes. It somehow feels she's less alone.

Pieces of the puzzle...

Two recent "Thoughtful Thursday" questions made me think and gave me reason for not just commenting on the posts but writing a bit more here on my own blog.

The first one is related to the TT from May 21, 2010 - which made me wonder if my infertility is a stand-alone thing or if there is a genetic link somewhere. There are two instances of known infertility in my family - my aunt didn't have any children because her husband had a fertility problem (and their marriage wasn't strong enough to endure the treatments) - but there is no blood connection between him and me, so that doesn't count. Then my maternal uncle and his wife were never able to conceive, but they never went to the doctor to find out why, so I don't know where the problem was for them. My dad and his siblings are all five years apart, which could be an indication of fertility problems, but I've never asked my paternal grandmother and don't think I will (as it's pretty impossible to talk about anything except the weather with her).

I know that I have some similarities in the woman's department with my maternal grandmother: we both experience(d) very painful menstruation cramps and carry our babies (well, I've only had one, so no idea if it would be the same for a second one) well past term, almost to 10 months. However, she had four children in a row (between 14 and 28 months apart), so she didn't seem to have any fertility problems. My parents' first child was stillborn and my mom had a miscarriage after that (probably because she got pregnant too soon after the first one - the only thing the stupid OBGYN had said to her was "I hope you'll get pregnant again very soon". So she did, and when she miscarried he scolded her for getting pregnant so soon...). My sister was TTCing for about two years before getting pregnant, which ended in a missed miscarriage. She then got pregnant about six months later and now has two beautiful children.

So... no definite clues for infertility problems, but there is a history of problems later in life with the reproductive organs on my mom's side of the family. Both her sisters had their uterus removed around the time of menopause (I don't know the exact reasons, but I think it was a bit of a 'better safe than sorry approach'). I think my grandma had something similar. My mom had polyps removed about 10 years ago and oh, I wish they had removed her uterus as well back then, because she has recently been diagnosed with endometrial cancer, which has spread to the cervix and the surrounding lymph nodes. She is currently recovering from surgery where they removed everything and will have radiation therapy in a couple of weeks. We don't know what the future will bring.

When I consulted Dr Google just after her diagnosis, I found a list of 'possible causes' for this cancer. One of them is infertility... Which leads me to the other TT from April 29, 2010 that deals with possible future problems related to infertility (treatment). This made me wonder if every women on my mom's side of our family has to deal with some problems related to our reproductive organs at one point in life, and mine happens to be infertility, or if I should expect to be a future endometrial cancer candidate because of my infertility history. Of course I don't have the answer to this question, but it seems like some pieces of the puzzle are coming together, no idea what the final shape will be though. Time will probably tell.

Eulogy for my stillborn brother

I have a brother. He would have celebrated his 40th birthday today, but he was stillborn, so we never got to know him. My mother had him with her for almost nine months, felt his kicks, his hiccups, until one day those were gone. She called the doctor, a young and inexperienced replacement, who came and told her she shouldn't worry, he thought he still heard a heartbeat. About 10 days later she gave birth to a lifeless son - the medical personnel treated her like she was a stupid, ignorant woman. My dad was not allowed to be in the delivery room with her, they were not allowed to see the baby, to see if he resembled mommy or daddy, nobody had ever thought about memory boxes with foot or hand prints in those days... They were led to believe it was for the best they never saw him - that he had 'blown up' because he had taken in all the amniotic fluid.

My dad and granddad buried him while my mom was still in the hospital. She wanted to visit the grave later, but she was afraid to ask, they weren't supposed to talk about it anymore, so she never went. She didn't get to say goodbye...

They were supposed to forget - just get pregnant again and have another baby. Don't think about this one. But of course they didn't forget, they couldn't, the pain remained, even after my sister and I were born. They didn't talk much about it, I always used to forget the date, until I noticed one of them shed a tear or they gave each other an emotional hug and then I remembered...

Now that I have been pregnant myself and am blessed with a healthy baby boy, I will never ever forget my brother's birthday anymore. I cannot imagine what it must have been like for my mom, those 10 days without feeling any life, knowing something was so wrong, but the doctors not listening to you. My parents are going to the cemetery today, for the first time after 40 years, even though the grave is no longer there. And I'm so happy Carly honored my Names in the Sand request, it is good to see his name spelled out.