Nathan's Stocking

Well, I survived Thanksgiving. It was difficult... mentally. I know that I have SO very much to be thankful for but it's hard not to feel cheated by not having Nathan here. This was my Facebook post on Thanksgiving afternoon:

"Thank you for the texts, posts and messages today. The prayers were very much appreciated. Today turned out to be a good day. I'm so thankful for our son Cameron. He is the light of my life and I am grateful to be his mommy. Even though he isn't here with us, I'm thankful for our son Nathan. I wouldn't trade the 16 weeks and 5 days, that I carried him, for anything in the world. I'll take the pain and heartache and learn to live with it because the love I have for him... out shadows it all. I'm soooo thankful for my husband, Allen Stephens. After 17 years together and 11 years of marriage, I love him more than ever. I hope that you all had a blessed Thanksgiving."

Now, comes the hard milestones... Nathan's scheduled c-section due date (21st), Christmas (25th) and his original due date (30th). I know they are going to be the hardest ones. I should be waking up Christmas morning with a 3-year old and a 4-day old. I'm so excited for Cameron but I know Nathan's missing presence will be felt. This will be our first Christmas without Nathan. It will be bittersweet I'm sure. Cameron is at such a fun age and is SO excited about Christmas. We went today and put most everything on layaway for him. I can't wait to see his face when he sees the Toy Story Landfill that he's been asking for. Every time he sees the commercial, he says, "There it is! That's what I want Santa to bring me!"

I've been looking for a way to include Nathan. It's important for me to not leave him out. However, I don't want to make a big fuss that will make most people uncomfortable. I wish there was a way to talk about him or include him in my conversations, without people feeling uncomfortable or sorry for me. I don't want pity... I simply want to be able to talk about BOTH of my boys. For me, it's turned into normal conversation. I've been accepted and allowed to talk about him in my baby loss support groups. It catches me off guard, when I see the look others have, when I talk about him. I realize, too late, that I'm back in the "real world" where talking about "what might have been" seems morbid and obsessive to the non-baby loss person. To me, it seems like part of letting go. I have to picture these things, get used to the loss of them... and gradually let go of the "what might have been's" and accept the "what is".

I came across the idea of the Stocking/Random Acts of Kindness on Melissa's blog, Chasing our Rainbow. I love it! It's a perfect idea, I think. It's subtle yet offers such an impact. It is a perfect way to begin a new Christmas tradition that includes Nathan. I love that it isn't just about Nathan and our family... but also impacts the lives of others. In the words of my husband, "Helping people is always a good thing." I hope that you will take a moment to include our little boy, Nathan in your holiday celebrations this month... either by participating in Nathan's Stocking or simply saying a prayer for us as we try to celebrate the Christmas season without him.

Dear Family & Friends,

First, let me thank you all for your love, support and prayers over the last four months. Thank you for sharing in the excitement of our second pregnancy and in the sorrow of our loss.

As the holidays are approaching, we are excited to spend time with family and friends. Cameron is at such a fun age and we are excited for him. However, we still feel the need to remember our son, Nathan, this Christmas. Nathan was due in December so Christmas will be a bittersweet day for us. It is one of our favorite times of year and we have been searching for a way to keep it that way, even in the midst of our pain. I found this wonderful idea from another mom, whose daughter and son are in Heaven, and was really inspired to do the same thing she did the first Christmas after the loss of her daughter.

We're having a stocking made, with Nathan's name on it, to place beside the rest of our family stockings, but really don't want to see it hang empty, so we have decided to enlist all of you to help us. All that we ask is that sometime between now and Christmas, do something nice for someone, no matter how small or large. It doesn't have to involve money - just commit a random act of kindness. When you do it, think of Nathan and dedicate that act him. You can even leave a note saying, “This random act of kindness was done in memory of Nathan" but you don’t have to. (I made a card if you want to print it to use. It was created as a 3x5 card. Just click to open it and then right-click to save.)

Please write down your act of kindness and send it to us and put “Nathan’s Stocking” in the subject line or slip a note into your Christmas cards to us. I won't read it. I will print out the emails and put them in his stocking. Then, on Christmas morning, we will open up all the notes and read them.

Feel free to share this request with your other friends and family... share it on your Facebook page. Even if only a few of you do this, we will have a really beautiful thing to share on Christmas in our sweet baby's memory and someone else (the recipient of your kindness) will benefit by a true example of the spirit of Christmas. I will pray that all of us will be struck by inspiration, that something will come to each of us, some kindness that we can share of ourselves, in Nathan’s name and in his memory, to benefit someone else. For idea’s and inspiration for random acts of kindness, visit one of the following websites...

http://blessedbycreativejoy.blogspot.com/2010/01/reading-shyla.html

http://amazingmikaylagrace.blogspot.com/2010/12/mikaylas-stocking.html

http://www.missfoundation.org/kindness/ideas.html

http://ticklestogiggles.blogspot.com/2010/05/my-birthday-was-awesome.html

http://tsjphotography.com/blog/random-acts-of-christmas-kindness-summary/

Thank you so much for your participation and your continued love and support,

The Stephens Family

4 Months

At 2:32am, four months ago... my son was born. I can't believe it's been four months. Some days it feels like an eternity already. How am I supposed to live the rest of my life without him here?

I keep thinking about how I should have less than 4 weeks left to prepare for his birth. I should have a fully decorated nursery, filled with baby clothes. I pulled out all of Cameron's "keepsake outfits" last month. I kept every outfit from each "holiday/event" for his first year of life. I held them and soaked in the memories of him wearing them. I hate that his brother will never have memories in those outfits. Instead, those outfits are packed away... yet again. I'm not sure if they'll ever be worn again. The nursery is practically empty. His crib has been packed away in our storage building. It like to broke my heart when I saw my husband carrying it across the yard. His glider is still in there, along with other items that have made their way in. It's become a "catch-all" room, of sorts. Allen spends more time in there than I do. He has gotten into leather making and has taken over the room with his stuff. I don't say anything. It's probably just because it's an empty room... but I like to think that it's his way of being close to Nathan. Occasionally, I'll walk to the door. The glider is on the other side of the room, near the window. He'll be sitting in the glider and braiding or detailing leather... but all I want to picture is my husband rocking our child to sleep. I see the green and blue walls and picture the nursery... complete and beautiful. We chose blue for the top, to resemble the sky and green for the bottom, to resemble the grass. We figured it would work for a boy or girl, by adding appropriate wall pieces. I came across a beautiful owl set online. Of course, it was pink and girly... so I set out to find a similar set for a boy. This was the set I had chosen for a boy. This are the things that should be in Nathan's room...

I think part of my "letting go" is going ahead and picturing these things so that I can find the closure in them. I have to have an end. Everything was ripped, so fast, from me and I'm still trying to process it all. I think another baby loss mom said it best when she told me this:

"It's lot like the world and life around you are moving ahead so fast that you're flailing and grasping at life's shirt tails, trying to grab and hold on for dear life because that's all you can do." (Thank you, Nika!)

I'm still holding on for dear life and I don't know how to let go. I'm terrified to let go. Holding on to these tiny moments and "what-if memories" is all I have. I don't have pictures or tangible items... my memories are it. I know that my brain is going to one day fade and I won't have those; at least not as clear as they are now. That scares me. It makes me sad.

Today, is going to be so hard. I was supposed to have the day off work but I'm going to have to go in. I hope I can find a quiet office, where I can close the door while I work... because I know he's going to be on my mind all day.

I had planned to take every 21st of the month off work for the first year of Nathan's birth/death. I have made that a "Reason to Smile" day. I take my older son and we do something fun together... just spend the day with him. Last month, I started my period on the 21st. A period I shouldn't even have had. It was just another reminder, that no... I'm not pregnant. I just couldn't muster the strength or motivation to do anything.

I work for a medical company and I found out, the other night, that the FDA has shut down one of our drug vendors so they are cutting our Thanksgiving work week short because we can't run our orders until we find a backup vendor to order from. So now, we either have to use PTO (personal time off) or not get paid. I can't afford to go without pay, especially since we don't know what's going to happen after Thanksgiving (if we'll have another vendor by then). Since it's almost the end of the year, I only have 1 day left... which is what I was going to take it this coming Monday. I had planned to take an occurrence on December 21st, which is the day I was supposed to have Nathan, via a c-section. (I've never had an occurrence. You can have 3 of those per year before getting a verbal warning.) Now that I'm having to use my PTO for Wednesday, I guess I'm going to have to go in tomorrow. I don't really don't want to take 2 occurrences. I'm so bummed because now that day is just like any other day... it will just blend in with all the other days this month. I feel like nobody, but me, will know what that day really means. It's the 4 month mark since I last held my son.

I dread next month. It's the milestone I've dreaded the most... Nathan's due date. I've had so much emotion building up to it, I'm not sure what to expect. Half of me expects to just stop breathing on that day... to just not be able to go past that date. Of course, I know that isn't logical. I'll survive and wake up the next day and the next. I'm sure before I know it, I'll wake up and it will be a year gone by.

I have so many dates that are attached to Nathan. Dates that I hate now... when I know I should love them because they are his. I can't help it though. Those dates will never be happy days for me, ever again. I can't picture a day when I'll be able to wake up Easter Sunday without remembering that that was the day I found out I was pregnant. I'll never be able to get through July 19th without remembering sitting on that table at the OB's office, looking at my baby on the screen. Seeing him curled up, lifeless in my body with no heartbeat. I'll never forget that July 20th was the day I was induced. The day I went through 12 hours of pain, knowing the child I was birthing was already gone. I'll never forget that July 21st is my son's birthday... regardless of whether he was alive or not when I birthed him. I'll never look at December 21st the same. I will always remember that THAT should be my son's birthday. It is the day I was supposed to have a scheduled c-section and have my one remaining tube tied. It's the day we were supposed to complete our family. At Christmas, there will always be one child missing. One child that should be opening presents with his big brother. If for some reason, we changed our mind during the pregnancy and chose to let nature take its course or try for a VBAC... December 30th was Nathan's estimated due date.

How did it all go wrong? How the hell did I get here... to this place? Why isn't my baby here with me instead of sitting in an urn in my bedroom? I'm so mad... I so angry that he isn't here. IT ISN'T FAIR!!!!! He is MY son. I don't want or need a frickin' angel. I didn't ask for an angel. I don't care that he's in a better place. My arms are the best place for him... here, with me! I'M HIS MOTHER! I hate this so much. I keep waiting to "feel better" or to be able to "get over it". Part of me wants to... wishes that it were that easy. I know it would feel better. Anything has to feel better than this gapping hole in my heart.

Thinking

I'm thinking of Nathan tonight. Well, all day really. Today, he's been on my mind more than usual. I kept having to stop at work and try to get focused. I do paperwork for a medical company, dealing with the FDA... so our paperwork has to be perfect. I can't afford to be distracted while at work. Normally, I can find a way to tuck Nathan into my heart and throw myself into my work for the time I'm there. Nathan, of course, had other plans tonight because I just couldn't get him off my mind. I had a meeting this morning with a local support organization to talk about our donation organization, etc. It's really the first time I've talked about him, face to face, with anyone other than my therapist. I was actually surprised that I did so well, without turning into mush. I teared up a few times and had to stop and compose myself. When I got in the car, I turned on the radio and KLove was playing "I Will Praise You in This Storm" and I just lost it. I cried the whole way home. I can't believe Monday will be four months. Some days, it feels like it was just yesterday and then other days, it feels like it's been an eternity already. Will there ever come a time when I won't dread the 21st of the month. I know it won't change anything but I can't wait until January 1st. I just want, so badly, to get past December 30th (his due date). Tonight just feels like a "Why me? Why my baby? I feel like having a pity party." kinda night... :-(

Bloglovin'

I just have to say... I love Bloglovin'. I was introduced to this great site via a post on Small Bird Studios blog back in September. I've come across so many blogs, since I started blogging, and this website has been such a great tool to help me stay updated on new posts. One of the best parts is, it doesn't matter whether they are hosted on Blogger or Wordpress. It sends me a weekly email with all the latest posts, for each blog that I've added to my subscription list. It has such an easy to use layout... very simple and easy on the eyes.

All you have to do is click on the 'add blog' button and type in the blog address. Once it is found, just click the 'follow' button. Boom! Magically, you'll receive an email (based on the settings you program) letting you know when new posts are added. They also have a cool feature that tells you about blogs that are similar to ones that you subscribe to. If you don't know many people with the type of blog you're interested in... no problem. They have a search feature that lets you find blogs that you might find interesting.

Click here to follow my blog with Bloglovin'!

He's Not Perfect but He's Mine

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My husband and I finally talked today. Hospice was called in today because his dad is dying and I think that helped start the conversation. It's the most he has talked about our son since we left the hospital, almost 4 months ago. My heart hurts a little less right now because I know that even though he never saw our son, he won't forget him and I know how he feels about him. I don't know that I want to share our conversation on here. As private of a person as my husband is, I think I'd feel like I was betraying his trust and confidence, in a way... even though he'll probably never read this.

I love my husband so much but tonight especially, this "quote" just really spoke to me. He has a way of giving me a sense of peace, calm and understanding... just when I need it. He lets me ramble and not make sense and feel better in the end. I love him for loving me. He's not perfect but he's mine and I thank God for him. ♥

Heartbroken

I'll be so glad when this year is over because quite frankly... the last almost four months have sucked. Allen's dad's health has deteriorated a lot over the last few months. They took him to the doctor earlier this week and ran a bunch of tests and then admitted him to the hospital for more tests. They had a "family meeting" this afternoon. Apparently, his kidneys are shutting down. Allen said they said they were at about 19% right now. They are giving him 3-6 months to live.

My heart is so broken for him right now. I mean I know his dad isn't young (74) and he's lived a long life... but still, I don't think you can ever be really ready to say goodbye to someone you love. Allen loves his dad so much and they are such a close knit family. I mean, heck... the entire family lives on the same road and we can see each others houses from our driveways. Allen's parents just celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary in June. I can't begin to imagine having to say goodbye to a person that you've loved for that long. I've known my father-in-law since I was 14 years old. My heart is breaking at the thought of having to say goodbye.

Allen said that he won't talk and is ignoring the doctors. He said the doctors were in shock that he was talking last night to Cameron. He carried on a whole conversation with Cameron on the phone. I was okay until Allen told me that. All of a sudden it hit me, that not only are Allen and I going to have to say goodbye... Cameron is losing his PawPaw. My son has lost so much over the last few months and it kills me to think of having to explain this to him. With Nathan, Cameron never saw him and I don't think really got what I was telling him (about Nathan dying and going to Heaven). How do you explain death to a 3 year old? This will be the first "real" loss that Cameron has experienced. He was still so little when my brother, Dustyn died back in 2009... plus, he didn't know Dustyn. (They live 12+ hours away.) How am I supposed to prepare him to say goodbye to his PawPaw?

Please keep Allen's family in your prayers, as they try make final memories and prepare to say goodbye.

Give the Gift of Life

I noticed a sign at work last week that mentioned we were having a blood donation drive and I thought about Josh's post. I went to HR and signed up. It's the first time I've ever donated blood. I was SO nervous but I knew it was a good thing to do. Here is the picture I took and what I shared on my Facebook.

Since I was trying to text/post my picture, from the blood drive, with one hand... I didn't get a chance to tell you the "story" behind my decision to donate. I'd never really thought about donating until I came across a blog last month, in which a family lost their daughter Margot. She was stillborn on March 24, 2011. Her mother almost died during that time but was saved by blood and platelet transfusions. So, in memory of a precious little angel (who I'm sure was there to welcome my Nathan into Heaven)... today I donated blood for the very first time in my life. Josh, please know that you are NOT the only person who thought of your little girl today. She was with me as I watched my blood leave my body and flow into the bag. I pray that it will help save a life. I pray that it will save someone's family from having to say goodbye. I hope they don't have to feel the pain that we've felt... a pain that comes with leaving a hospital with empty arms and a broken heart. Friends and family: I encourage you to find a local blood donation center or blood drive and consider donating blood in memory of little Margot. http://www.redcrossblood.org

Perspective

It's amazing how the smallest things can change your perspective on a situation.

It has finally turned into Fall-like weather. Today was rainy and cold... a perfect day to just stay home, hide under the covers and feel sorry for myself. However, I went on to work and was determined to finish the work week with a halfway decent attitude. The beginning of the week started out kinda shaky with the return of a co-worker on maternity leave and the announcement of my other co-worker's baby's birth. On November 1st, they had a baby boy. His birth was a physical reminder, that I should've been next. I was due 7 weeks after her. :-(

Anyway... I went in tonight and the majority of the afternoon went smoothly. Then right before first break, a co-worker walked past me. He used to work in my department on another shift. Now, he works in another department but I see him on occasion in the hallways. He walked past and said, "Hey. How are you?" to which I replied, "Okay. How are you?" It made me think for a moment about a post I read the other day by Josh at Jack at Random. A couple seconds later, I heard him call my name. I turned around and he was standing a little ways away from me. He looked nervous, hesitant almost. He said, "I was just wondering... is everything okay? You seem different. I didn't know if the job was getting to you or what... I just... I just noticed a change in you." Still thinking about Josh's post, I hesitated... stumbling over my words. I'm still trying to figure out how to answer those seemingly innocent questions. How are you? Is everything okay?

I finally just kinda blurted out the first thing that came to mind. "I'm okay. Just trying to figure out how to... uh... ya, know... get past everything. (To which I got a confused look.) You're not in our department anymore so you may not have heard but we lost a baby in July." The instant I said those words, I saw such a change in him. Not a nervous "oh, crap... I just stuck my foot in my mouth" look but a genuine, sincere look of sympathy. He said, "I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I'm so sorry to hear that."

We talked for a few more seconds and then parted ways... me back to my paperwork, and he, back to his department. A few minutes passed and I just couldn't get my mind off the conversation. I felt bad. I hate making people feel bad and that's what I felt... like I'd made him feel bad. He couldn't have known the answer to such a simple question would be so loaded. On my way to break, I stopped by to talk to him. I told him that I wanted to let him know that I sincerely appreciated him taking the time to stop and ask about me. Very few people have asked how I'm doing and truly stopped to hear the answer. (Hence the reason, that most of the time, it's a quick generic "Okay. How are you?") He seemed to honestly be okay with everything so I told him a brief version of the story, expecting to hear another "I'm so sorry."

Instead, he told me that he and his wife had also experienced the loss of a child during the 2nd trimester. He said that they had a small, family funeral and had buried their son on family property. He said that he was glad that we had had the conversation because he was going to talk to his wife, once he got home. He said that, as a man, he just wanted his wife to move on and get over it. He couldn't fix the situation and he felt helpless. They went on to have another son and really never talked about their lost child. He said that seeing the change in me, made him realize just how hard it must've been for his wife to not have him support her more, to let her talk about their baby and the experience. Later on, in the night, another co-worker mentioned her experience with an early miscarriage... in which she miscarried, in the car, on the way to the hospital. I don't even remember how the conversation came up, I just remember thinking, "Wow, two co-workers that have lost a child. I would have never known."

It's amazing how the universe works. We all live on this planet, yet we all have different lives but somehow each life affects another, and then another and yet another. My perspective on life has changed so much with Nathan's birth. I don't claim to know all the answers but I do know that there was a reason for Nathan's short life. Nothing in my life or with my situation changed tonight. It does, however, make my grief a tad bit easier to bear... knowing that because of my conversation about my son... a woman that I've never met is going to have a more understanding, loving, caring husband tonight. Call it coincidence, call it fate, call it luck. I call it a plan... God's plan. In a tiny way, MY Nathan... had a hand in reconnecting that marriage just a little bit. That changes my perspective of my loss. I didn't lose anything... he's still with me and always will be. In fact, I gained quite a bit. I can't begin to explain everything he's given me. I miss him... that doesn't change and never will. However, on days like today... I can actually SMILE when I think of my baby boy. I can almost picture him sitting on a cloud, holding a little cupid bow and smiling. And for today, right at this very moment, it's okay with me.

Gray Area

I'm a little (okay... a lot) freaked out that I have actually published this. I've only shared this blog once, during Small Bird Studios blog hop last month. Now knowing that people can actually SEE me, not just read my words... okay... where's the delete button? I'm freaking myself out even more. The more I share this page... the scarier it is. I have a fear that someone I actually know will stumble across it. For some reason, I feel more comfortable with a perfect stranger knowing these emotional, intimate details of my life vs. my own family and friends. This has been my safe spot... to vent, share and not care what anyone thinks. (This post was written on October 30th and the video was recorded on November 2, 2011. It's being published/uploaded late due to technical issues.)

The following post was written two days ago and was saved as a draft... where it was going to stay. However, I watched Jess' video blog last night and she gave me the courage to publish this and add my video to round-up. It was more emotional, reading it, than I thought it would be. I recorded it sitting in the glider, in what should've been a fully decorated nursery, by now. However, I didn't have the energy or courage to read it again. So here goes... jumbled words, tears and all.



Over the last week or so, I've been following the Spoken Word Blog Round Up, which was created by Angie over at Still Life with Circles. It has been a healing and eye-opening experience for me. It has allowed me to look at my own experience and really dive into my feelings... something I'm not very good at. It has helped give me the words that I want to say... and just never knew how. So for that, Angie... I thank you and this community.

This has been such an emotional two weeks. Perhaps it's the stories I've heard, perhaps it's the fact that I just passed the 3 month mark of Nathan's birth/death, perhaps it's the Facebook pregnancy and birth announcements I've read (5 so far this month), perhaps it's the realization that I should be less than 8 weeks from my due date. I don't know whether I'm coming or going. I just know that this sucks. It hurts and I don't want it anymore: this "new normal". What is that anyway? I mean... there is nothing "normal" about grieving for a child you never got to know.

When I originally started watching the round up, I wasn't going to participate. I just felt like most everyone else seemed to have such a history with their child and with their grief. They recalled painful but cherished moments before, during and after the delivery. What could I possibly add to that? I had none of those moments with my son. Then I thought... surely there must someone on this Earth who has been where I am. Someone must know what I'm going through. Please, I'm begging... someone, anyone... I don't want to be alone in this. Perhaps, this is my chance to connect and feel less alone.

I'm a new blogger... if that's even what you want to call it. My writing isn't "elegant" or beautiful. There is nothing poetic or brave about what I write. In all honestly, I tend to scatter my thoughts and repeat myself. ;-) I looked back over my posts and I just didn't see anything that stood out. (Hence the reason that I'm reading this.) My story is the same as everyone's, yet so very different. I had my bi-weekly session with my therapist yesterday and talked with her about the round up and my feelings... and this is the conclusion that I've come to. I'm in a gray area. I'm in a weird spot. When a person loses a child before or during birth, there are two names for it: miscarriage or stillbirth. I somehow managed to get stuck in the very middle of those two terms. I am the mother to a child who was lost during the second trimester of pregnancy. Legally, I had a miscarriage. In my heart, I had a stillbirth.

Below is a chart that I found, on Wikipedia, that describes the terminology and timeframes of pregnancy outcomes. The only thing I see when I look at the chart, are the different ways that the public perceives how a person ends up with empty arms.

In this gray area, I sometimes don't feel worthy of this grief. At what gestation are we allowed to properly and publicly mourn for our child? At what point is it okay to mourn without someone telling us "it wasn't really a baby" or "Be glad you lost it when you did. Can you imagine if you'd had to carry it longer and go through that"?

In this gray area... I no longer fit in with the "non-baby loss" group. Yet, at times, I don't feel like I fit into the "baby loss" group either. I feel confused and lost. I feel angry and hurt. I feel lonely and excluded. I feel so many things. I wonder, sometimes, why I feel the way that I feel. How is it possible to love and miss someone so much, that you never had a chance to know? Why do I have such a fierce, protective love for this tiny 6 1/2" long baby boy who flutter out of my world faster than he flutter in? Why do I feel so much like I'm the only person who misses him... like I'm the only one who's life has changed?

Nathan's story isn't filled with family and cherished memories and that makes me sad. I hate that he wasn't given the same things that my first son received. He wasn't welcomed into the world surrounded by his family. There was nobody at the hospital when he was born, except my mom. (She came, so that I wouldn't be alone.) I am the only person who held him, other than the nurse who delivered him and the funeral home staff. My husband made the decision, for himself, that he didn't want to see him... even if he were at the hospital when I delivered. A decision that I'm trying so hard to respect and not be angry about. A little after 3am, after 12 hours of labor, on July 21, 2011, (after they had taken Nathan away) I called him at home. As he laid in our bed, snuggled next to our first born child, Cameron... I told him, "It's a boy. We have another son. I think he would've looked so much like Cameron. He has my nose, your long legs and Chris' square-shaped chin. (Chris is my brother.) His cord was wrapped twice around his neck." That is about the extent of what my husband knows about his second child. Nathan has become an elephant (yet another aspect of my gray area). He is in the room with us always but rarely talked about or mentioned. It seems to make my husband uncomfortable so I don't talk about him very often.

I struggle with my anger and regrets because it's unfair that Nathan got gipped out of so many things. Looking back, I realize that, as his mother, I should have done more... because nobody else was going to. I hate that my mind and body were in shock and that I didn't have more time and forethought to process what was happening. I go to sleep every night and in my dreams, I pray that I will see my son, so that I can tell him how very sorry I am that I didn't fight harder to make his birth more important.

When I look at my older son, it hurts to think of all that he will miss out on by not having his brother here. Even if we have more children in the future, his first little brother will always be missing from that picture. It's so unfair. I don't know why I think I'm special enough to think that I should've somehow been spared this heartache. We all should've been spared. No parent should have to hold their dead child in their arms and say goodbye. No parent should have to leave a hospital with empty arms. To go home with nothing to say their child was real... and not just a figment of their imagination.

Unfortunately, this is now my life. My life is no longer colorful and vibrant. Yet it isn't black and white... it's simply gray.

(Here is the link, if you are interested in linking up with the Spoken Word Blog Round-Up.)