As you all know, Tuesdays are the roughest days for me. I woke up in disbelief that today marks Jensen’s seventeenth week in heaven. The past few days, I’ve been preparing myself for Friday, the four-month mark. For some reason I just didn’t mentally prepare like I usually do. I’ve felt dizzy all day and am just trying not to break down in tears every second. It’s so much harder to fight grief and emotions off when you’re physically and mentally tired, it just floods your system.
Last night I dreamt of Jensen as an angel. He was constantly around me, but I could never reach out and grab him. I could just see him smiling at me and guiding me on. In my dreams, Jensen grows to what I would imagine his age now. His cheeks were still big, he had a big Buddha belly, and chunky legs. He looked happy to be watching over me, but I thought he was upset that I couldn’t hold him. All I could tell him was that I loved him and I’m trying my very hardest to be the best mommy I could. Oh how I wish I would have just been able to grab him and wake up with him in my arms. Instead, I woke up crying. My face was wet and everything hit all over again.
On top of everything, I pushed myself into doing something I didn’t know I had the strength to do. A few weeks ago, I started contacting the hospital about getting Jensen’s ultrasound pictures. Our first ultrasound there was in November and I saw them twice a week until he was born. That’s a lot of pictures and moments I just needed to have. Thankfully during that time, the techs printed out a lot of his pictures. Of course I didn’t get all of them at that time and if he was still here I probably would have been fine with just that. Since he’s not, I knew I needed to have them in my possession.
Well, if you’ve ever dealt with medical records, you would know it’s a long process to actually get anything done. Fetal and Maternal medicine helped get the ball rolling by doing the behind the scenes work. I didn’t have to explain Jensen and I’s story over and over again. She would call me back every other week to keep me updated with what was going on. I let her know I was terrified to actually go to the hospital to pick them up. From all the happy ultrasound moments to giving birth, I didn’t know what would happen when I actually went back there. I could tell she really wanted to be able to help me out and was trying her hardest to convince medical records to let my mom go and pick them up.
Yesterday I got another call from her:
“Jensen’s ultrasound picture CD is all ready to be picked up this week.”
“Amazing news! I’ll let my mom know they’re ready and she’ll go pick them up this week!.”
“Well. The thing is, medical records cannot release information to her. You have to be the one to go pick them up or you’ll have to go get paperwork and sign off that she has access to your records. Either way, you’ll have to come to the hospital. I’m so sorry.”
“Okay thank you. I’ll be up tomorrow to pick them up. I appreciate your help. Bye.”
Hang up to breakdown.
She was so nice and caring and then I pretty much hung up on her. I instantly was dreading walking into the hospital, but the hospital held so much of Jensen. The past few weeks, I’ve waited to get these pictures to have forever. What better day to get more of Jensen than on his day…
It was the longest car ride to the hospital and I felt dizzy when we were walking through the parking garage. My had kept going over my belly, where Jensen would be laying. Every thing was the same from how the elevators smelled to the lady working at the radiology desk. I knew nothing would be drastically different, but it was. Jensen wasn’t there with me and I felt so empty inside. I felt like I was in a trigger I couldn’t escape. When I was in the hospital, I didn’t breakdown. Leaving the hospital, I tried my best not to breakdown until I saw a little boy talking about wanting a motorcycle toy. He had a little lisp and was super cute. His hair was blond but turning brown, exactly how I imagined Jensen’s hair turning. Then I started crying.
The process of actually getting the disk and his pictures on it was easy though. I had to sign a release and they let me know if I ever wanted a second disc it would be ten dollars. They were really nice about everything and didn’t pry too much. Somehow there were no pregnant women in there. Now getting his pictures off the disc is proving to be a challenge. Turns out medical records doesn’t use Apple products. So I don’t know how I’m going to upload all of his ultrasound pictures. I’ll figure it out eventually, but I can’t wait to have all of them and see each one again.
As the triggers of the day wind down and signs of sleep creep up, I’m still in shock that it’s really been seventeen weeks. I’ve been through the darkest of days and have seen the light Jensen sends from above. I’ve felt pain and heartache, but a smile forms when I see his face. I’m living in a song of loss and love, both wrapping around me as I continue on. In the moments where I think it’s impossible to move forward or it hurts so much to even take a breath, Jensen sends me a sign. His love my continuous raft in the ocean of grief.