I was introduced to Kelle's blog by several friends. And I quickly fell in love with it. Kelle unexpectedly gave birth to a baby girl with Down syndrome 2.5 years ago. Her experience was very similar to mine, and her writing is incredible. Needless to say, I was anxiously awaiting Bloom's arrival. I pre-ordered the book, which meant it arrived on the release date AND I received a signed book plate signed by Kelle Hampton herself. {I felt a little like a celebrity crazed teenager when the plate arrived and I attached it proudly to the inside cover of my book.}
I was pretty excited to open my package from Amazon back on April 3rd. I was delighted to discover the book was full of pictures. Kelle is a talented photographer and her little Nella is adorable. I can't hardly stand it sometimes, I mean, c'mon!
Reading this book was like therapy for me. I usually read it while I pumped. And lots of the time, I cried while I read it. So many of the stories Kelle told were familiar and personal to me. Sometimes I'd look up from reading, tears stains on my cheeks and my nose running, and say to Troy, "That stupid book." It brought my feelings to the surface, and sometimes that needs to happen.
I loved how much she talked about the friends who helped her through the hard times. She called them "the village," because they formed an entire net that carried her and kept her strong.
"I don't think my friends really know what a force of love and strength they were for me that year--how they put the pieces of me back together. Women are amazing that way. I think we are good at seeing others in pain and internalizing it-- recognizing what it would take for us to move on, what we would need to be healed, what we would hope someone would do to comfort us in that scenario--and then we do it for that person." p. 34
I had my own village which kept me going and in many instances kept me sane. I'll be forever grateful for those people who never failed to check in on me. Who called, emailed, commented on my blog, and watched Jackson while I went to a million doctor's appointments. Seriously, I swear Jackson lived at the Wahlstroms and the Petersons for the first 6 months of Clara's life. I've always felt like I've had certain people placed in my life to teach, influence, and bless me. But my experiences after Clara was born have brought a whole new meaning to that thought. I can't imagine going through all of that without my village.
There is a chance Clara will need glasses later this year. When I first learned that I was really upset. But the moment I saw this picture of little Nella in Kelle's book, I instantly switched. Clara probably does need glasses. In fact, maybe she needs a pair exactly like these. Way too cute right?
I also appreciate the fact Kelle is willing to share her very personal feelings surrounding this trial in her life. The ups and downs, the ins and outs. A lot of days I would read and then breathe a sigh of relief knowing I wasn't the only one who had felt like that. She was able to articulate things I had felt but had no idea how to explain, or rather didn't dare to.
One of those moments was her relation of the night after her baby was born. She talks about being in such intense emotional pain that the pain was physical. She sobbed for seven hours straight. I can relate. The night after Clara was born. I never slept and instead I was haunted by the "night demons" as Kelle calls them. In the dark of my hospital room, the despair of my situation suffocated me and I felt like I was sinking, like I'd never be able to find my way out of this hole. I also felt like this couldn't possibly be real. Several times, I'd be just about to fall asleep and I'd feel this huge relief like, "Oh good. This was just a horrible dream. I'm so glad the nightmare is over. I'm still pregnant." And then my eyes would fly open, my hand would move to my abdomen and only find a searing incision. It was real. I hadn't dreamed it. And it wasn't going away.
And that is when I had feelings and thoughts that I'm not proud of. I was ridden with horrible guilt because of those thoughts and feelings. I thought I was a horrible person. Because no normal person would think and feel that way just hours after having a new baby. When I read Kelle's blog several weeks later, I sobbed. Because right there, in her post about Nella's birth, was proof she'd felt the same way too.
I really wanted to run away. I remember thinking if I could just get out of this hospital, I could get away from this. It would go away. But then I realized I couldn't leave. I was hooked up to machines and IVs and had a huge throbbing abdominal would. I could barely stand. I was trapped. This was me, and this was my life. I had to face it, but I just couldn't. Not in the dark in my hospital room, and not with no sleep, and no hope.
I thought of how I felt just minutes before Clara was born. How Troy and I looked at each other so excited to meet our girl. How he has the camera ready and how we laughed that no matter what we did we couldn't manage to have a scheduled c-section. Our babies always decided to come before their scheduled date. That first night after Clara was born, I thought about those things and how happy and care-free I felt, and I felt completely flat. In nursing school, we called it 'flat affect.' I was totally maxed out emotionally and when I thought about how I had felt so happy just a few hours before I scoffed. I couldn't imagine being happy again. I know deep down I knew I would make it through this and I would of course be happy again. But at the time I literally felt like everything had changed and it would never ever be the same.
Sometime in the dead of night I prayed it would go away. I promised God I would be good, but I just couldn't face this trial. "Please," I begged, "Please just make it go away." I remember feeling like I should offer to trade, to bargain for something else. When I think about that now, I'm ashamed. Those emotions and thoughts were real, but I feel so completely different now. When I think about how Clara has blessed our little family, I feel there is no question about it, we won the lottery with her. She is the sweetest, happiest, most loving baby in all the world, and I would not trade her for anything. I'm so grateful Heavenly Father, in His wisdom, didn't answer my prayer for deliverance. I need Clara as much as she needs me. We are in this together, she and I. And everyday, I find myself looking into her beautiful almond eyes and wondering how I got so lucky.
Kelle summed it up so well with a quote at the end of her book. It's my most favorite quote:
“Once, a long time ago, I had a white picket fence, but it fell down. And while I didn’t choose the crazy-colored one that was erected in its place, I had grown to love it. I wouldn’t change it for anything in the world, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s that you can never ever go wrong with vibrant color.” Bloom: Finding the Beauty in the Unexpected, Chapter 14
I love the way she put it. To me, the picket fence is the "ideal" life you've pictured. Inevitably, things happen in life that threaten to change your ideal, or even, knock it down. I've grown to love my picket fence too. And I wouldn't change it for anything.
