Short Story

I finally ventured to some websites I found on the Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope website. I stopped over at a Glow in the Woods' site. I just read the most powerful thing I've read, probably in my whole life. It took me about an hour to read it and the posts below it, through my tears. I must say though, it got me thinking and before I even realized it... I had hit the submit button to post a reply. I think it's the most honest I've been since Nathan died. It kinda scares me... but it also feels good.

I've tried so hard to be considerate of everyone around me. I don't want to make anyone uncomfortable. I don't like people to see me cry or be upset. I didn't realize what a good actress I was. I smile and tell everyone "I'm okay" when they ask. I think part of me actually believes it. But then the other part of me, is mad and angry... yelling, "How can you be so 'blah' about this?" I wonder some days why I'm taking this "so well". People have said they can't believe how strong I am... especially for wanting to start Nathan's project so soon after his death. I don't really have an answer. I just know that NOBODY should ever have the regrets I have. No mother should have to write the reply I wrote to the short story...

Here's the link to read the story...
http://www.glowinthewoods.com/home/2011/8/25/short-story.html

and here's my reply...

I've been reading the posts above through my tears. I think this is the most powerful thing I've read since I lost my baby.

What wouldn't my future self say? I have so many regrets. I would record the 12-week ultrasound so that I would have video of my baby alive and moving. I would hit the send button to call my husband when I learned they couldn't find a heartbeat at the 4 month appointment, instead of hanging up during the first ring and driving my 3 year old and I home. I would ask more questions to understand and know what was going to happen during and after delivery. I would buy an outfit and blanket... even if it was for a doll out of the toy department. Something... anything... to lessen the shock of having him handed to me in a standard newborn hospital blanket. To have something he touched, to take home and hold when I miss him and want to cry. I would insist that my husband stay with me at the hospital and be with me as I brought our second son into the world after 12 hours of labor. I wouldn't care about being embarrassed or about anyone else's comfort level as I held my dead child in my arms. I would take pictures... tons of pictures. Yes, a baby who is 16 weeks, 5 day gestation is tiny... beyond tiny. No, they don't look like a chubby, bundle of joy. But take the damn pictures anyway; they are the only mementoes you will ever have! When you lay awake at 2am, begging your brain to let you remember the tiny details of him... you will want those pictures. It will be comforting to see that, yes, he had your nose and his daddy's forehead and long legs. Just shy of 17 weeks, you will look at the pictures and marvel at how God could create such an amazing, tiny person; every tiny detail, already formed and in place. I would insist on having the same things as a mom delivering a live baby. I would demand to have length and weight measurements, instead of measuring him with my hand and never knowing how much he weighed. I would tell the nurse to try again, when she tells me they couldn't get footprints. I would tell her that I don't care if all she gets is a foot smudge. I don't need a picture perfect set of footprints... I just want something, anything to remind me that was my son real. Screw the nurse about to take my blood pressure. I would hold him instead of telling them I was ready for them to take him after only 30 minutes. I would cry when I felt like it, instead of holding it all in. I would care less about making sure everyone around me is comfortable. I would not try so hard to act okay, while crumbling on the inside. I would care less about what other people think. I would feel less ashamed of grieving and tell myself it's okay to feel however I want to feel. 

I would gladly relive the pain and heartbreak all over again for just one more chance to hold him... even knowing the outcome would be the same.

Back to Work

Well, I survived my first day back to work. It went okay, I guess... pretty much how I thought it would go. I had several people tell they were glad I was back and that they missed me. A couple people told me that they were sorry to hear about what happened. Most people just ignored me. Only one person actually mentioned my son... one person. It hurt but I expected it.

I never realized what a "taboo" subject it was until now. People are just not comfortable talking about the loss of a baby... especially during pregnancy. I can't imagine the heartache women must have suffered all these years. My grandma lost a daughter, who she named Lenny. Lenny lived for 16 days and my grandpa never allowed grandma to see or hold her. Mama said that grandma hated him until the day she died because of it. Back then, the hospital took care of the babies remains and women were sent home. Those lost babies were never added to the family tree or talked about again. All these years later, I don't even know what was wrong with Lenny or why she died.

As much as I hate myself for giving Nathan up so quickly... I try to remind myself that I'm lucky. (As much as one can be in this situation.) I got to see, hold and name him. There are so many women out there who never got that kind of closure. They'll always wonder what gender their baby was, wonder what he/she looked like, etc. I got all that... and I thank God for allowing me that privilege. As much as it hurt, I'm blessed that I got to have that time with my son. On the bad days, I just have to remind myself of that.

I wrote the following on August 9th on my Late Pregnancy Loss support board. One of the moms was beating herself up for some feelings she was having. I remembered it tonight and I think I need to read my own writing...


I think we all struggle in our own ways. To each of us... our loss is worse... because WE are experiencing it. It's not that you're being mean... you're hurting and you can't understand how anyone else thinks that they could possibly hurt as much as you do. And honestly, they don't. Even though we're all greiving our losses... they are just that, OUR losses. We can say "I understand what you're going through". We can't say "I know how you feel" because we don't.

I'm sure the 1st trimester moms, are jealous of us. Perhaps, they wish they'd been able to deliver, hold and see their baby and know the gender. I think it would have been harder, for me, to have closure if I hadn't been able to see him and name him.

I find myself sometimes jealous of women who carried their baby longer. They got more time, more kicks and a bigger baby to hold. They had time to develop more memories with their baby... even if it was while they were inside them. They didn't have to worry that they would bruise their baby just by holding them. (I don't think.) Their baby was bigger and more developed... and, I imagine, a tad less shocking than your baby and mine. Nathan was only 6 1/2" long (about the same as yours) and even though he was developed and looked exactly like a tiny baby... it was a shocking experience. I didn't get the tiny, white baby that I imagined in my mind... I had a purplish baby that fit in one hand. Whether the staff tries to prepare you or not, no parent expects or imagines their baby like that. Later gestation families get footprints and (most) get a baby outfit or blanket to wrap their child in. They had moments and memotoes of their baby that most earlier loss women will never have. Part of me, is jealous of you... because you DID get those things and our babies were close in age. I wish I had footprints and a blanket to hold when I want to cry and feel closer to my baby.  I think it's only natural for all of us to wish we'd had more than what we had. 

Then again, I don't know how much harder it would have been had I carried Nathan longer. To have more time bonding, to go through a more difficult, painful labor and still have the same end result. To already have his nursery complete and have to come home empty-handed and take it all apart... that would have been torture. (We only had his room painted, the crib and glider bought... which has been bad enough.) My heart broke into a million pieces when my friend told me about having to return everything after her loss... having to explain the reason for the returns was because her baby had died at 30 weeks gestation.

I think also the thing that moms, who miscarry vs. stillbirth, struggle with is public perception. Not only are we trying to greive, we feel that we have to justify our grief. When a woman has a stillbirth, the baby is recognized more as a baby. Most of the time, sympathy and support is given to the familiy, without question... as they lost a child. When a woman miscarrys, she is looked at as "oh, it was just a miscarriage". They don't look at the fact that we ALL lost a baby. We were ALL emotionally invested in our pregnancies. Or at least that's how I feel.

The friend I mentioned earlier, who's baby died at 30 weeks... she received money, cards, flowers, food... as if a family member had died. (I don't mean that as a family member didn't die... I just didn't know how else to word it.) They had a funeral and family and friends were able to see their baby and grieve with them. We had Nathan creamated and my mom and I are the only people who saw him. We are the only people that know/saw he even existed. My husband didn't even see him. I can count on one hand the number of people who have said my son's name or mentioned him. I haven't received anything except a couple get well cards. While those are MASSIVELY appreciated... I wasn't sick. I lost a child. I was induced, I went through labor, I held my son, I had a baby. They don't see that, though.

The end result in every situation is the same... we are ALL parents who've lost a child/children. We are all traveling this path together and, point blank... it sucks.

I got two cards and some money tonight at work. I waited until I got home to open the card because I knew it would make me cry. The lady who gave it to me lost her young adult son to a car accident almost a year ago. I wasn't expecting the money... so it was a nice surprise. Amazingly enough, the card and money were from people on 3rd shift... people I don't even normally work with! How generous and thoughtful is that!?!? I got a card and money last week from the warehouse department (yet another group of people I don't normally work with). I wrote a thank you note and placed it on the message board at work tonight. I wrote it for warehouse department because it was before I realized 3rd was giving me a card/money. I told them thank you and that every dime given is going into Nathan's project.

I got an email back from the publishing company and they are going to let us purchase the support books at 51% off and charge 1/2 the cost of shipping!!!!! I'm so excited about that! Beth, at Compassionate Passages, had given me the contact information to get in touch with the publisher. They offer the same book through their program and have offered to donate 5 books for our cause! That is FIVE families who will have a book to help them understand their feelings while they grieve for their baby. How awesome is that?!?!

My niece, Kasey, is letting us borrow her sewing machine until I can save up for one. I'm so excited... I think I'm going to get some cheap fabric this weekend so I can start learning to sew and get some practice on it. Things are slowly falling into place for Nathan's project and I'm excited to see where it's all going. Excited is a nice feeling... a feeling I haven't had in a while.

Back to Reality

Its back to reality tomorrow... well, my "new" reality I guess I should say. Tomorrow will be my first day back to work since Nathan died. The sun comes up and life goes on...

Part of me is nervous and scared... part of me is ready. I know that I need to get back and on my feet. We've got bills coming in that need to be paid and short-term disability only pays so much. I'm just nervous about people's reaction. How crazy is that?!?! I feel like I'm in high school all over again. I know... I really need to worry less about what other people think. It's easier said than done.

I know one of three things is going to happen:

1. People are going to come up to me and tell me how sorry they are; which is going to make me cry; which is going to make them feel bad; which is going to make me feel bad for making them feel bad
2. People are going to ignore me like the plague and pretend nothing ever happened; which is going to make me feel sad. It'll be like Nathan never existed and was never important.
3. There is someone, I'm sure, who won't have heard what happened and, at some point, they will ask how the baby is doing or if I know what I'm having yet. Then once I tell them... it'll be a repeat of scenario #1.

Aghhhhhh... why did this happen?

< 10 minute gap >

Cameron just woke up and couldn't find his paci. I went in to help him find it and tuck him back in. I laid there beside his bed, rubbing his back, looking at his face against the light shining from his closet. (He's afraid of the dark so he has to have the closet light on and the door cracked.) I can't help but wonder what Nathan would look like. I saw what he looked like at almost 17 weeks gestation... but at birth, at one year, at three years... what would he have looked like? I just can't help but wonder what God's plan is... why us, why MY baby? What possible purpose involves taking a baby 4 months into a pregnancy? I just don't understand... and I don't think I ever will.

Random Thoughts

I started seeing a therapist last week. She suggested that I journal as an outlet for my feelings. I'm not a very good writer anymore. (My years of high school journalism are long gone!) I guess I'll give it a try and see how I feel. I'm still not sure whether I want to make this public or not. I've found great healing in reading other stories and knowing that I'm not alone. Who knows, maybe my story will help someone else feel that way.

I got an amazing donation in the mail yesterday for Nathan's project. I literally stopped breathing for a few seconds and then the tears started. An amazing woman (who, might I add, I've never met in person) made a generous donation to Nathan's project in memory of her late husband and son. I'm trying to figure out the best way to spend it. I want to get as much as I can with it. I contacted some publishing companies today. I'm hoping I can find a way to order the support books at a discount, if we order in bulk. At $10-12 a book, it adds up fast.

It's driving me crazy wanting a sewing machine so bad! Mommy & Me donated some of the prettiest minky fabric the other day. I can't wait to see how many blankets we can make with all of it. I want to get started!! Of course, I have to learn HOW to sew first. I had three people email me about making some of the pouches. I can't wait to see what they come up with. I'm just so thankful for the love and generosity of everyone who has been so supportive of this project. I know, that realistically, the support will probably lessen over time but I'm thankful for what they've given so far.

I've only got a couple more days until the waiting list opens for Small Bird Studios. I've been looking at several different scrapbooking kits... trying to figure out what kind of theme to go with. I feel like this project is a reflection of my love for Nathan and I want it to be perfect and beautiful. It's the only thing I can do for him now. I posted on the Birth Club and Facebook, asking for opinions, but nobody seems interested so I guess I'll have to decide for myself.

I think part of me feels like once we get these first boxes complete and delivered to the hospital... maybe I'll feel like I'm getting a second chance with Nathan. I know, in my mind, that's not true. Nothing will ever bring him back and I have to live with the choices that were made. I know, deep in my heart, that this is a wonderful thing to do... so I just have to prepare myself. I know I'm going to be disappointed once I get through the first donation and realize that nothing has changed for me and my family. But like a friend told me, if it (the project) gets to be too much... I can always step away from it.

My mind has been very confused the last couple days... well, weeks really. I have several friends who are pregnant. I'm genuinely happy for them but I can't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when I read their Facebook updates. I can't help but think of what updates I'd be posting if I were still pregnant. I'd be 21 weeks right now. I know it's only been a month since we lost him... but I'm trying to decide what my feelings are about trying again. It took us so long to get pregnant with Nathan. I think part of me is scared I won't be able to and that we'll never have another baby. Then part of me feels bad for even considering it so soon... like I'm trying to replace him or something. I know, in my heart, that isn't true... nobody will EVER replace him. I can't help my emotions though and how I feel. I want something to be happy and excited about. Part of me thinks a new baby will bring that happiness. Now, I know why they call them Rainbow Babies... the babies born after a loss. Of course, then I worry about the pregnancy. Pregnancy will never be joyous or happy for me... I'll be scared the whole time. I alway thought that once you got past the first trimester, you were home free. Now I know, that isn't always true. I don't even think I'd be able to relax after 17 weeks. I've read so many stories of women who have endured losses throughout the entire pregnancy, some during delivery.

I can't believe this is my life. It sucks so bad some times. I miss Nathan so much. I feel so bad for all the times I complained about pregnancy... about all the times I worried about money and bringing another baby into our lives. I would be happy broke and pregnant for 18 months, if it meant I could have him back. You hear people ask, if you could change one thing in your life what would it be. If you could go back and do something over again, what would it be. Up until Nathan, I've never had anything I'd want to change. I figure it all lead me to where I am now and made me who I am. Nathan's birth, however... is a whole different story. I'd give just about anything to do it over... even knowing the outcome would be the same. Even if I still lost him, I go through the pain and heartache all over again... just to have one more chance to hold him again.

Then reality snaps me back and I remember that there are no do-overs in life. I have to suck it up and deal with it. I have to remind myself that I have Allen and Cameron... and as short as the time was, I had Nathan. As much as it hurts, I'll take the pain, heartache and 4 months. I'd rather have those precious few moments with him, than to have never had him at all. I'm a different person because of him. I love him and I thank him every day for allowing ME to be his mommy for those 4 precious months.

1 Month

This is a repost of my Facebook page last night...

Happy One Month Heavenly Birthday
Thursday, August 18, 2011 at 1:43am

An hour from now, 4 weeks ago, I was preparing to hold my son for the first and last time. I can't believe it's been a month since he left for Heaven.

Nathan,

I think about you all the time. You're the first thought in my mind when I wake up and you're the last thought when I go to sleep. I check on your brother and then I touch your urn on the way to bed. Do you feel the kiss I blow you? Do you hear me tell you goodnight? I hope so. I took Cameron to the playground the other day. While he was swinging, he started blowing kisses every time he would swing forward, towards the sky. I asked him what he was doing and he said,"Blowing my brother kisses. You said he was in the sky, right? Can he catch my kisses?" I thought it was so sweet.

We all love you so much and it hurts that you're not here. Right now, I should be 21 weeks pregnant and excited about making it past the halfway point. I should be buying cute little outfits and decorating your room. Instead, I'm excited about all the donations and resources that are being used for your project. I'm scouting out sales to buy things for other moms, who sadly, will be where I am; and who's babies will be where you are. I hope that you're happy with the way I'm choosing to honor your memory. I will make sure that I'm not the only person who knows how special and wonderful you are.

Happy one month Heavenly birthday, my sweet angel!

Love, Mommy


Now it’s a month since your visit
and your memory lingers on,
Somehow feels like you’re around,
even though I know you’re gone,
and in these times when you feel so low
Ain’t nothing you can do.
But we’re still thankful for your visit
Cause we changed cause of you,
Yeah we changed cause of you.
— John Butler Trio, Spring