Vulnerability

Man I’m about to open up some pretty raw shit so hold on tight. I shared this on my own locked down personal fb page a while ago, but I’m on another mental health break from all that so I thought I’d share it here because it highlights why sharing and being so open and vulnerable is so important to me. I’m super private usually, even though it may not seem like it to my carefully picked Facebook friends. I share Shaylyn and my thoughts on my page so openly because when Shaylyn died I had a fight with her father about a month later, maybe two, about my writing and my sharing and it changed everything. Time is weird af in tragedy, I’m not solid on the timeline of all these things. When I was still in the hospital being induced I fully deleted my Facebook because while i was in the room I got one fb message from a super nice girl from work. I was out medically with my pregnancy before Shay died. She just sent me a nice little message. I’m thinking of you and the baby. Hope you guys are ok. I was literally searching stillbirth on Facebook hours into this nightmare life because you just need someone that understands, or info, or stats, or something. Idk. But I saw that message. And I deleted Facebook. Immediately. Shock and grief and horror and real life outside, because somehow hell on earth had become this supportive bubble for me in that hospital room. Who knows. But there was a time I felt compelled to come back. I had been ignoring my phone for weeks, maybe months. But something said look at it and honestly this is where Shaylyn started showing me about love and the universe, but also about grieving out loud and unapologetically and about connections and support and people “getting it”. One of the first things I saw was a friend from high school whose daughter had just died as well. He and his wife had twins, a boy and a girl. Junior lived. And Journye died. And what they had written in her obituary, spoke to me. I messaged him. And that started my idk, not to be like such a cliche asshole, for real, but his Journye lit the path for my journey. So I wrote out Shaylyn’s story. Brutal as fuck but beautiful to me, and full of this ridiculous amount of love. And I posted it on fb. People outside my inner circle still thought I was either still pregnant or had had Shaylyn by then. The outpouring of love and private messages with stories and people in my life that had lost children, or whose parents or aunts or friends had lost children, it didn’t make me feel “better”, it made me feel one iota less alone. Someone not just saying “ you’ll be ok, Katie”. “It wasn’t meant to be”. Any fucking thing about god. I felt strong, I shared her picture for the first time, I felt vulnerable, I’m sharing my heart. And then I got in trouble. Big time. Maybe an hour later, prob not even, I was being berated by Shay’s father for my words. I had sent what I wrote to him before I posted it (for approval probably), but one person texted him and so I wasn’t allowed to speak about “his” daughter anymore. Weird because Shaylyn was always some dirty secret to her father, even though we were together for five years, owned a house, and planned for a kid for years. He straight up told people she wasn’t his. He said to my own face she wasn’t. Not a good person. But that was just another in a long line. But this time was different. Because at first, I did what he demanded of me. I deleted the post. I deleted my heartfelt words to my daughter because he scared me. And then I felt the most incredible weight of guilt and shame. Like I was deleting Shaylyn. And I said fuck you bro. You will never control how I love or grieve my daughter, again. I wrote an entire new thing and I went in my friends list and I ruthlessly deleted people off my Facebook. Friends I’d had since kindergarten. Gone. Anyone I thought might share my words with him, gone. Any single person that I alone decided was not entitled to my fucking heart. To my Shaylyn. See ya the fuck later. Some good people got caught up in what I called deletegate. But I still don’t regret it. If you did and I love you, it was not personal. It was something I needed to do for myself. And this is why I will never stifle a fucking thing about myself, my Shaylyn, my love, or my grief ever again. And this is why I’m putting it out now, three years later, even wider and even more vulnerable-ly, because this site is public. I have rid my life of every legal and financial manipulative tie that Shay’s father used to control me earlier this year. And now I am free. Because I was not making Shaylyn’s Grace with his negativity on my heart. It’s why I share what got me here. So people can know you can be kicked a million times when you are already so far down, but that love is strength. My love for Shaylyn is what pushes me to get up. Every fucking time. Because if one person can find and read my words and mine and Shaylyn’s story and feel one iota less alone from me sharing the most ugly while simultaneously most beautiful parts of my journey with babies and death and love, then I’m going to do that. It’s my way of saying all these thank yous I owe so many wonderful people 💜🦋💜.

Here is the second post, the one I wrote after I deleted my first one, which I still think is beautiful, and which gave her father much more credit than he deserved because I had just given birth to our perfect child, who was dead, and I was still being emotionally manipulated at the time, but this is where I took my first step, given the courage to do so by my old friend and his baby girl.

I’ve been struggling with posting on Facebook for over a month just because the death of a baby is such a painful and still taboo subject in our supposedly evolved society. Jay and I had a rough go of pregnancy from the very beginning. We found out about Shaylyn about three weeks before my dad died. Thankfully we did get to tell him about her even though it was a tough decision. It was so early and we had already suffered a miscarriage in 2015. I didn’t want to make him feel worse knowing he would never meet her and I struggled with the decision to tell him. Ultimately I decided he would want to know and luckily he was still with it enough to understand. I will always cherish that moment and that memory with my dad and Shaylyn both still alive. My first ultrasound was the Wednesday after his funeral and that was the first bittersweet moment of so many over my 34 weeks of pregnancy. We found out at week 10ish that she had Turner syndrome, which is a chromosomal disorder that can affect any and/or all of the bodily systems. The sad statistic is that only 1% of Turners babies make it to full term, and are born alive. You are never out of the woods or in a safe zone. We found ourselves on a path of never ending appointments, blood tests, ultrasounds and fetal cardiac echocardiograms. Everything seemed to be going ok with her growth, her heart, kidneys and other major organs that they watch closely in these cases. I was hopeful but I always so terrified at the same time. I ended up being diagnosed with gestational diabetes and high blood pressure on the verge of preeclampsia and was taken out of work and put on bedrest around 30 weeks. I was admitted to labor and delivery twice for my blood pressure within the next week and monitored for hours before being discharged. We had our final fetal echo on July 19th and the cardiologist was positive about the results. Our weekly ultrasounds looked great. Shaylyn was over 4 lbs at our 32 week appt and everything seemed on track. We finally let our guard down. She was big enough to be ok if we had to deliver. At 33 weeks she was doing her practice breathing at the ultrasound and the tech was so happy to see that. It was our first semi normal and non stressful appt. The next week on August 2nd we went in as usual. The tech put the wand on my belly and almost instantly pulled it away. We had been through so many ultrasounds I saw it (Shaylyn’s heart not beating) immediately but my brain could not process what I saw yet. She asked me to go to the bathroom which has never happened and as soon as I closed the door I heard her leave the room. I felt every ounce of blood drain from my body when I heard that door slam shut, which was confirmed when I came out and saw Jay’s face when he saw me. He said I was as white as a ghost. I lost my shit in that moment. When the tech came back with the Dr, I could not control my fear and tears. She said those words that no one ever prepares you for. “I’m sorry, it’s true, there’s no heartbeat”. My entire world collapsed. Sounds came from my body that I have only heard on the other end of 911 calls that I’ve answered. Here is this strong ass baby who has beaten every odd against her, could survive outside my body at this point, and the only thing between us is skin, but she is no longer alive. This cannot be happening. I don’t have words to convey the utter devastation I felt in that moment.  I was induced that night around midnight and my mom, Jay’s mom, and Shaylyn’s aunts and uncles were with us through it all. I am so thankful for my people everyday. After an induction filled with complications, including almost losing my own life, we welcomed our perfect girl into the world on August 4th at 3:46 am. She was 4lbs, 10.8 oz and 18 inches long. Jay and I spent some alone time with her and then her two grandmothers and her auntie Lisa got to see her and cuddle her. Jay’s dad and stepmom came in the morning to do the same along with the rest of her aunties and uncles. She was surrounded by nothing but love. One of my other sister in laws, Alisha, took the most amazing pictures of Shaylyn that I and the rest of my family will cherish forever. 

I like to think she was born straight into my dad’s arms. She never knew pain, cold, hunger, nothing but love and comfort from her mama, and the beat of my heart. That gives me some sense of peace. 

Nothing can ever prepare you for the loss of your baby and the hell on earth that comes along with that everyday for the rest of your life. But I will say that this little girl has taught me and my family more about ourselves and love and life in her short time on this earth than anything else ever could. And although she never got to take a breath, she lives on in all of us. She has changed us all forever. 

I know this is hard to read and hard to comprehend. It is every parent’s worst nightmare. But I want to talk about my daughter. You will not break my heart by mentioning her, even if I cry when you do, my heart is already permanently broken. You can’t make it worse by acknowledging that she existed. I love to hear her name, even though it kills me. I know people feel uncomfortable because they don’t know what to do or say. I understand. I don’t know what to do or say myself. So if you see me somewhere please don’t shrink away from me. I don’t have a disease. I won’t pass it on to you, I’m not contagious. Just give me a hug and your love. Ask me about her. I got to know her in the womb. Just acknowledge Shaylyn. I didn’t just lose a pregnancy. Everything doesn’t happen for a reason. God didn’t need another angel. We had a daughter and she died. It’s the worst thing we will ever go through. And the most beautiful. 

I still love what I wrote and I’m glad I finally got the courage through my love for Shaylyn to stand up to her father in so many ways throughout my pregnancy. I did everything in my power to keep Shay safe and alive. I left my abusive home 6.5 months pregnant with a high risk pregnancy, I birthed my daughter in a room of love full of my own people who helped me, while his family continuously made the worst possible scenario for me worse and worse, but yet I still wrote lovingly about them, even in my second version, after being verbally berated and threatened, because they were Shaylyn’s family. But zero of them came to her baby shower four days before her death, and the day she had no heart beat, not one hour prior, her father was arguing with me over putting his name on her birth certificate (of course once she was dead, he was all for his name being everywhere), then his entire family fought over her funeral, and I haven’t heard a word from any of her grandparents or aunt or uncle on that side since, so I don’t feel bad being brutally honest about my journey with these people now. It took me a long ass time to get there, but I did these hard ass healing things myself, with the help of my Shay Pod and I’m not ashamed of the ways in which I have been able to bandage even a tiny fraction of my heart. So just know that if you are in a depths of hell situation yourself right now, no matter how weak and broken and fearful you feel, you have it within yourself to rise out of the ashes. It’s fucking brutal, but you can make it. Trust yourself and your heart and your love. I am sharing all of this because vulnerability heals. This one has me wide open for extra abuse, but I am strong enough now to handle whatever any person thinks they can do to me. I have lived for three years without the hugest piece of my heart, there is nothing her father or his family can hurt me with, and every word I write is the truth. I will say though, sometimes my kindness crusade feels a bit like balancing out the bad karma her father spreads to the universe, because Shaylyn’s legacy will be positive, I don’t care how much I have to offset the negative with love, I do it for her, as I do everything in my life, and I will die trying.