Happy 1st Birthday!

Nathan,

Happy 1st Birthday, my sweet angel! I wonder what kind of party that Jesus will be throwing you today. I'm sure it will be spectacular and more amazing than anything I could imagine.

I can't help it... I still feel like your place should be here, with me. Your brother woke up a little after 2am and I've been in trying to get him back to sleep. I was rubbing his back, looking at his face and wondering how much of him would've been in you. I wonder if you would have looked like him and your daddy or if I would've finally gotten a child that looked like me. I have to say, looking at your tiny features that night... I think I would've been 0-2 on it, with Daddy being the winner, yet again. LOL

I had planned on staying up until your birth time anyway. I've had your candle burning since about 7pm. I just blew it out, as I wished you a happy birthday, before I starting writing this. I'm going to pick up your birthday cake in the morning. Well, today... I guess. It is technically after midnight. I'm excited to see it. I got Carrie to make you a Hungry Caterpillar cake. I also got a sky lantern... the first one I've ever bought. I hoping that it doesn't rain tonight so we can release it.

I don't really know what to say because I know that nothing I say or do will change anything. My heart continues to miss you, as much as it did a year ago. I find myself reliving that night and trying so hard to will the tiny, details back into my mind and my memory. Those are the only things I have left to remember you... that tie me to you. I find myself angry and reliving the feelings of failure and disappointment (in myself) for the choices made that night. I'm trying not to dwell and let myself "go there" again because I know that it does nothing for either of us.

With everything in me, I will try to put on a smile and brave face today. I will celebrate the day and rejoice in the fact that I had you at all. Even though you were already gone by the time I birthed you, you were always my little miracle! Against all odds, you came into my life when nobody thought it was possible. Just as you were, your timing was also perfect. Had you not come, perhaps I would have had that hysterectomy. Had you not come, I would've never known this heartache. However, I don't regret it. You were, and continue to be, worth every single tear. They are tears of love... because I love and miss you. I don't know what our future looks like but I can't help but wonder what it would've been like with you here.

I hope you know that you will always be a missing part of our family... a missing part of me. I love you forever and ever....

Mommy

~ Your First Birthday In Heaven ~

 It’s your first birthday in Heaven
And I know you’re happy there.
I want you to know I miss you
And your absence is hard to bear.
They say time will heal the hurting
And I’m trusting that it will,
But if I live a hundred years
I know I’ll miss you still.
Enjoy your self in Heaven
With Jesus and friends so dear.
I’m looking forward to joining you there
When my life is through down here.

©Bob Hefner 7-28-01

As I'm writing you this message,
You won't believe all the things I see.
Heaven is so beautiful,
And it's now where you can find me.
The angels are all so wonderful,
And God is indeed my guiding light.
He opened up His arms to me,
When I arrived my first night.
He said "My child don't you worry,
You have truly come home.
And now that you're here,
You will never be alone."
To make it even more special,
You'll never guess what they've done.
They arranged my first birthday celebration,
Right here in Heaven!
Everything seems so perfect,
But something's still not quite right.
It's all of you I'm missing,
To help make my birthday bright.
It would be so amazing,
If you could be with me.
Helping me celebrate my birthday,
With my new Heavenly family.
I know the day will come,
When we will be together again,
But until that time comes,
I love you all...

The Week

Since it's after midnight... here it is. "The" week. The week I've been dreading since that horrible day I heard myself ask, "You can't find a heartbeat can you?" The tears are forming as I type this. Thinking about it is one thing. Typing it, speaking it... makes it real. I knew this week would come but now that it's here... I just don't know... the words are lost on me. I've been unsure of how I'm going to feel and muddle through it. Even now, I don't know how I'm going to manage the week. I guess just one minute at a time, one day at a time.

I've been "counting" down to this week and now that it's here and I know I won't be bringing a baby home... I don't know what to do with the feelings surrounding the "anticipation" of the week. Even after losing him, I didn't know what to do with the "countdown". Its like New Year's Eve. You know that nothing is really going to change when the clocks strikes midnight... but you count down anyway. I've known since July that nothing was going to change but I still countdown. I still look at the calendar every Friday and know that I should be "X" weeks pregnant. I suppose, come January, I will begin the "birthday count"... my son should be "X" days/weeks/months/years old now. For the rest of my life, I will have a child missing. For the rest of my life, I will be counting for a little boy who never will.

This week should have been the week my son was born. This is my pregnancy ticker today. It's not public and hasn't been since I lost Nathan. I did keep it active though, on the Liliypie website.

Friday should've been my last day of work. That detail hit me as I caught a glimpse of the calendar on my locker at work, as I was leaving. It was a little bit emotional pulling out of the parking lot Friday night, thinking about it. Even though Nathan's official due date was December 30th... I think I'll always consider December 21st his due date. I should be preparing for my scheduled c-section this coming Wednesday. My son should've been entering the world on Wednesday, December 21, 2011. My OB and I discussed the options and were going to finalize the "plan" as I got closer to my due date. He said they don't normally induce or schedule c-sections before 39 weeks. However, with the Christmas holiday... he said they'd be able to "play" with the dates. I told him I wanted December 21st for a few reasons. Allen was born on August 21 and Cameron was born on February 21. I like that all "my guys" are 21sters. (Little did I know, Nathan would still end up a 21ster... just not December.)

I figured if I had him on the 21st... we'd be out of the hospital and home in time for Christmas. What would be better than waking up Christmas morning with an almost 4 year old and 4 day old in my arms? Oh, what I wouldn't give to have that be a reality. Instead, I'll plaster on a smile and try to make happy memories with my older son on Christmas morning. I will swallow the pain and heartache of missing Nathan. I will put my feelings aside for my surviving child. I will swallow the lump in my throat, hold back the tears... and smile as I "ohhh" and "ahhh" over my precious Cameron. When I think of all I've lost this year... I can't help but think of all he's lost. My heart breaks almost as much for him as for myself. He has had a really tough year, since July. A three year shouldn't have to go through as much as he has. He's lost his little brother, a part of his mommy and his PawPaw... all within the last 4 months or so.

We've had to say goodbye to 2 people this year. Having to say goodbye to my son in July, and then again, to my father-in-law (who I've known since I was 14) in December... really makes me question life. The older I get, I find myself aware of the fact that I've turned into my mom and that she has turned into my grandmother. Before long, I'll turn around and find myself in the grandmother position... closer to death. It really makes me question what my purpose is here... while I'm alive and on this Earth. I used to be terrified of death. While, I'm not in a hurry to expire... I don't fear it like I used to. It brings me a sense of comfort to know that my son is waiting for me, when it's my time to join him. (I am going to send an angel in front of you, to guard you on the way and to bring you to the place that I have prepared. - Exodus 23:20) Part of me doesn't really care about my purpose because, really... I have no control over it anyway. THAT is the part I struggle with. I used to have this fabulous illusion that life was what I made it. How naive was I? I see other people, living their lives, blissfully unaware how just how quick it can all go wrong. I'm jealous of them. I've been where they are and I miss it. Sadly, my experience will never allow me that blindness again. I am forever changed.

I will forever be the mom of two boys. It's sad to think of how different the future will be for them. THIS is what I don't think people understand. When you lose a baby, it's not just for that moment or that year. It's forever. You lose all of the "what if's" and all the dreams for the future with that child.

I will watch one son grow up. I held him in my arms the day he was born and promised to love him until the day I die. I saw his first smile, first steps and first birthday. I'll see him off on his first day of Kindergarten. I'll cringe and worry when he gets his first set of car keys. I'll watch with tears and pride as he graduates high school and, hopefully, college. I will cut the strings and try to bravely let go as he ventures out into the world. Perhaps, he'll marry and have children someday. These are all things I look forward to when I think of Cameron.

When I think of Nathan, I think of all of those exact same things. The difference is in the wording. There is only one sentence, in bold, that is the same as Cameron's.

I will never watch one son grow up. I held him in my arms the day he was born and promised to love him until the day I die. I'll never see his first smile, first steps and first birthday. I'll never see him off on his first day of Kindergarten. I'll never cringe and worry when he gets his first set of car keys. I'll never watch with tears and pride as he graduates high school and, hopefully, college. I will never be able to cut the strings and try to bravely let go as he ventures out into the world. He'll never marry and have children someday.

I can't believe it's been almost 5 months since I held him. God, how I miss him. I wish so badly I could go back to that night. I would take the pain and heartache all over again, just to hold him and tell him I love him. I dread this milestone but I pray that getting past it will be one step closer to healing. I know that this hole in my heart will never be completely gone but slowly, Lord... I hope and pray... slowly it will get smaller.

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... :-(