I had my first panic attack yesterday. I was sitting in CPR training at work. no big deal, right? They show a video during this training. In one of the vignettes, they showed a woman going to her child's crib. The child isn't breathing. TRIGGER. It was a serious trigger for me. Let me try to describe what happened to me. I saw the blue baby on tv and it was like I was instantly transported back to the night Kailee was born. I saw flashes of that night. I was holding her. Looking at her blue head, her blue fingers. her blue toes. As this was happening, my breathing must have changed because I couldn't get my breath. I tried to close my eyes and calm myself down in that moment, but I couldn't. At this point, the CPR instructor wanted us to begin CPR chest compressions on our "fake" babies. As I watched others in the room doing their "rescue breathing", the room started to close in on me. It was like the room was actually getting smaller and smaller. I felt completely out of control and I had started to cry. I left the room as quickly as I could and found a bathroom.

It took me over an hour to calm down. Thankfully, a friend (and fellow counselor) talked with me until I was finally able to feel like I had some sort of control.

I've never had anything like that happen to me before. I now know that it's a trigger for me and I will avoid videos with fake dead babies in them.

I've been back to work for over a week now. It's not been too bad. I love being surrounded by people who know about Kailee.

I was putting my office together and decided to bring in a picture of Colson for my desk. But what about Kailee? She's mine too. What would people think of the counselor who has a picture of a dead baby on her desk? All these thoughts run through my mind about the simple concept of a picture on my desk. It shouldn't be this difficult!

Another aspect of having her picture on my desk is that people will ask about my kids.... you know, the usual. How old?... blah, blah, blah..... So that opens the door of "Yeah, that's a picture of my dead baby. Feel sorry for me for a minute and then feel mortified because you don't know what the heck to say. Let me end this by taking care of you and telling you it's okay that my baby died." I can see this happening over and over through the day and it's not really something that I want to go through. It's nobody's fault that the conversation goes like that.... It is what it is. Bringing up dead babies is like going to church naked. It's just plain uncomfortable for everyone involved.

So back to my conundrum..... I essentially made the decision to just put Cole's picture on my desk. So why the long post? Because I. FEEL. GUILTY. I feel like I'm saying Kailee isn't important enough to have earned the beloved spot on my desk where I can see her beautiful face every day. Only Colson looks back at me. I see his smiling face and every time I look at that sweet little face, it reminds me of the other little face that SHOULD be right beside Cole's smiling back at me.

As long as I'm in this crappy, feel sorry for me mood, I might as well talk about Fall. I love autumn. It's my favorite time of the year. I love the colors. I love pumpkins and bonfires and the crisp, coolness in the air. I look forward to fall every year. I got married in the fall because it is my favorite time of year. I still love fall, but there's a feeling in my stomach now when I think about it. I re-live the events  of Fall 2009. A lady at work is due with her baby on September 15th. It BLOWS. MY. MIND. that someone has been looking forward to that day for 40 weeks. If I had a say in the matter we would have September 13, September 14th and then September 16th. Get rid of that dreaded day! It's the day we found out Kailee was going to die. The closer we get to the day, the more I feel sad. It's crazy that something I love so much is such a trigger for me. I'm not sure how to deal with that.

We had a training at work yesterday. We were supposed to bring in "things that inspire us" so we could make a big, fancy art project. I brought in a picture of Brent and Colson together. I also brought a picture of Kailee. No one asked about her or commented on it. It didn't make me sad. I've decided that I am going to just reduce my general expectations when it comes to pregnancy loss. I wonder, sometimes, if I've put myself into this little box of being a "grieving mother." It used to be how I defined myself. That has since turned into "grieving mother and mother to Colson." They are both equally important, but I have to say that grieving is harder for me than being Colson's mother.

There are days when I am just plain exhausted and at the end of my rope. Then Cole laughs and it makes everything better. I love laughing with my son. Sometimes I feel like I'm making up for 18 months of not laughing. His laugh is infectious. We must have done something right, because he is such a happy baby. I must say that I'm happy God chose me to be his momma.