Re-post from Small Bird Studios - When you lose a baby

Wonderful piece by Fran over at small bird studios.  If you have not read this, please do.  It is amazing!

When you lose a baby...

You don’t know what to expect.

People surround you. For a couple of weeks. Making sure you are not going to kill yourself, refuse to get out of bed, or start rocking a baby doll like the crazy lady they heard about from a friend.

You get lots of sympathy cards, clearly written and designed to be sent to console a daughter losing her father. Not the other way around.

You get free baby formula in the mail. For months and months and months.

And free baby magazines. And free baby coupons.

You secretly envy every pregnant woman. But not without a tinge of guilt, because you know all too well that she might be one in four- expecting her rainbow child.

It seems like the whole world is expecting a baby.

You have baby stuff around your home. Because you never imagined you wouldn’t need it.

You feel jarred. In the grocery store. At a birthday party. At the dinner table. At Christmas. Driving.

The baby you never knew, but lost changes every part of your life. Every. single. part.

Forever.

You see baby clothes and it brings tears to your eyes.

You get sick and tired of crying. You never knew it was possible to cry this much.

You find yourself angry at God. Angry at yourself. Just angry.

You sware you can feel them kick but they’re gone. They call them phantom kicks. I call them painful, all kinds of painful. But sweet too.

You know, or you have a strong feeling of knowing what your child would have looked like, and been like. You see a child in the store, or on the street. Their hair color, dimples, smile, their personality and suddenly you are reminded of your child. You miss your child even more, if that’s even possible.

Your Babies R’ Us Registry is still active. There is no delete button on their site. The babies r’ us people don’t make a dime on people like us. Why bother right? You have to call them, plead with them to remove your freaking’ registry, because there will be no baby shower. There is an awkward silence. There is sadness. There will be no baby.

You get hospital bills about 3-4 months after you buried your child. You have to pay for the baby you delivered but didn’t bring home.

You find that moment of happiness in life for the first time, but the guilt swallows it up almost immediately.

You remember the size of the casket. The size of the plot. The face of the funeral director. The expression of those that attended the funeral. The feeling of raw pain, like your chest has literally been ripped open.

Somehow you convince yourself that you deserve happiness. Because you really do. But in the happiest, purest moment, there is still that hole that only they were meant to fill.

People compare your pain to their own pain. The loss of their grandmother, husband, their failed marriage, rebellious teenagers. Somehow this comparing leaves you stranded. If they can compare their pain of a situation to the loss of your BABY, they will likely never get it. Babies are not supposed to die. End of story.

You lost a dream. And it almost feels like you imagined their entire existence up. Their name becomes a distant memory on the lips of others.

There is awkwardness when you talk about your child in a crowd. No one knows whether to cry, walk away or pretend you never brought him or her up.

You lose friends. You find new ones.

You can’t believe that women have actually survived this and you never knew about it. Not really, anyway.

You would do anything for another minute with your child.

You cry when others bring up your child, not so much because it hurts but more so because it such a precious and rare gift.

You long for the rewind button, even after many many instances of acceptance.

You want to know what went wrong, and why…

You find a new appreciation for moments in life that make you laugh… you laugh harder and love stronger.

You know that you can die bitter, or die thankful. There is no in between.

You never ever, EVER get over your child. The one you hoped for, prayed for, carried and loved for the weeks and months they were with you.

You learn to live with the pain.

21 months

The other day at work, Ted was listening to music and the Irie version of Tears in Heaven (he calls it Jacob's song) came on. He thought he would be ok listening to it, but tears filled his eyes quickly. He told me about it that night and we talked about how it just never goes away. We can go along through the days feeling ok. Thinking about him and missing him, but doing ok. Then something like a song or a smell or just seeing something in a certain way brings us back and the pain is fresh again.

21 months is such a long time and it's still hard to believe that it's been so long since we held our baby boy.

I've been by the garden three times in the past week. I talk to him and sometimes I just sit there and listen to the sounds of the birds and the people and the traffic and the wind and think that this is what his body is surrounded by all the time. I know that he isn't really there, but it's the last place that we held him, even if it was his ashes.

I had a hard time sleeping a few nights ago and moved to the couch so I wouldn't keep Ted awake. I ended up crying over something silly and it quickly turned to crying for Jacob, missing him and thinking of what life would be like if he had lived. It brought me back to the days and nights of crying in the early days, of feeling just horrible emotionally all the time.

Today,, 21 months after Jacob was born, we went to my OB's office for our second appointment with her for this pregnancy. As we sat waiting to see her, I thought of what was happening 21 months ago at the same time. Jacob has just been born and we were holding him, loving him and memorizing him because we knew we wouldn't get to keep him for very long. She stood at the counter for awhile writing a note and I stared at her face, thinking back. Tonight we stopped by the garden and stood silently for a few minutes, both of us talking to Jacob in our heads. Ted said how it is just so sad.

We miss him.

This and that

Last week Laurie called me because she wanted to tell me what Ben did. They were playing a game where Ben would "write" down messages on a piece of paper and show them to Laurie. Laurie asked who they were to/from and he would say "Mom, Dad and Danny" most of the time. Then they went through the routine again and she asked him the same question and he said "Mom, Dad, Danny and Jacob". Oh, it made me smile. She said that she hasn't talked about Jacob in awhile to Ben, or near Ben and asked if I did. I haven't spoken about Jacob to Ben in a few months. Neither has Ben. And yet Jacob popped into Ben's thoughts. I'm getting emotional just writing this out. Ben was almost 2 when Jacob was born and he never saw him, other than a few of Jacob's pictures (and I think he has only seen his ultrasound pictures), yet Ben somehow understands that Jacob is someone close to him. I've told him Jacob is his cousin, but Ben, who is 3.5 now, was 2 when we talked about Jacob and his relationship to Ben the most. I love it.

Ted and I went to a Raptor's game on Sunday and we had a good time. And I didn't fake having a good time, which is such a nice feeling. I look back to where I was a year ago and can't believe the difference in me. It definitely helps that I'm pregnant with Boh, but still.

At the game, we saw lots of families. A few rows behind us, there was a white Mom, a black Dad and 2 little boys, about 2 and 4 years old. I looked at those boys from time to time and thought of Jacob. He would be 16 months old right now. If he had lived, and assuming that Boh lives,Ted and I could have had 2 kids we would have taken to a game in a few years, like them.

During some downtime in the game, a bunch of approximately 10 year olds came on the court and danced. There was a boy, probably with one white and one black parent, who was really good. Ted and I watched him in particular and Ted said "There's Jacob". He does that sometimes when we see boys that Jacob might have looked like. I like it when he does it. This time my eyes filled with tears, which I managed to hide from Ted because I don't want him to stop doing it.

We will never stop wondering what could have been.

20 months

I saw this poem on a friends blog today and it describes how I feel really well. 20 months without him, only 4 months short of 2 whole years. It's still hard to believe sometimes. I think about him every day. Every day I see or hear something that reminds me of him.

I heard your voice in the wind today

and I turned to see your face;

The warmth of the wind caressed me

as I stood silently in place.

I felt your touch in the sun today

as its warmth filled the sky;

I closed my eyes for your embrace

and my spirit soared high.

I saw your eyes in the window pane

as I watched the falling rain;

It seemed as each raindrop fell

it quietly said your name.

I held you close in my heart today

it made me feel complete;

You may have died…but you are not gone

you will always be a part of me.

As long as the sun shines…

the wind blows…

the rain falls…

You will live on inside of me forever

for that is all my heart knows.

(unknown)

I love you baby boy. I'm always missing you. 

19 months

Well, it has now been 19 months since we held Jacob in our arms. It's still hard to understand/believe that it has been so long, but the pain isn't as overwhelming and consuming. He is still missing from our everyday lives and family get togethers, but I know that my family remembers him too and that means a lot.

Last night was New Year's Eve. It wasn't nearly as hard as it was last year, when we were leaving the year that Jacob was conceived and born, his year. But we are getting closer and closer to his second birthday and that is scary.

I re-read my post from January 1, 2010. I knew that New Year's Eve 2010 was really painful, but I forgot just how bad it was and how much I cried. That I carried his bear around and cried over and over again. It was only 7 months since Jacob was born too, so that made it a lot harder. I'm so glad that I started this blog and can look back and see how far I have come.

I got an email from a Grandmother of twin boys that were born in November 2011. She said that she found my blog on Christmas day and that it helped her. And her telling me that helped me. It's so touching that she misses her grandbabies so much. Hard for her, I know, but at least her daughter knows that someone else realizes just how big of a loss they are and how important they are.

I also received a really nice gift from Jennifer, Kai's Mom. Last year, she sent me an ornament for the babies I lost in 2010 - Jacob, August and Cub. This year she sent this year is a similar ornament for Madeline and Emma, the babies I lost in 2011.

She sent the rose for Mother's Day 2011, as a symbol of hope.
The back of Madeline and Emma's ornament has "Loved and Missed Forever
08/30/11" written on each heart. Thank you Jennifer. These items will
always have a special place in my house. 

Elaine also sent me an ornaments for my babies. The creativity of these women is inspiring and their caring touches me more than I can say.

Jacob - we love and miss you always. The passing of time takes you farther away from when we were last able to touch you, but it also brings us closer to you. And there are times when I feel you near. Like when I had to light the candle last night several times before it finally stayed lit. I still talk to you, although not as much as I used to. But you are always on my mind, your ultrasound picture is still up on my desk and you are a constant presence in our lives. You would be 14.5 months old. Imagine that.

Christmas 2011

This was our second Christmas without Jacob, August and Cub and our first without Madeline and Emma. I should have been 28 weeks pregnant on Christmas Day this year.

This Christmas was easier than last Christmas, although we didn't put up any decorations in our house this year and I didn't listen to any Christmas music (except in the malls when I didn't have a choice). We did receive some cards from friends and babyloss Mom's, which we put up. I have to make a special mention of a card from my sister Jessie since she addressed it to Dana, Ted and Jacob.

We just had trouble finding any joy last year, except for when Jacob was mentioned. This year we still missed him and our other babies and we weren't really excited for Christmas, but we weren't dreading it as much. Every minute of it wasn't extremely painful this year. And a few really nice things happened that made Christmas a lot better.

We still thought of and remembered them all the time. When my 2 nephews were playing on the floor, I thought of the other babies that should be down there too. When my sister was opening the gifts for Danny, I imagined the sort of gifts we would have been receiving if any one of our lost babies was alive...clothes and toys and cute things for them.

At Christmas last year, we felt sure that by next Christmas, we would either have a baby in our arms or I would be due very soon with a baby. In the days leading up to this Christmas, we decided that we won't talk like that anymore.

We went to Laurie's on Christmas Eve for dinner. We brought all our gifts and stocking stuffers over since we would be back there the next morning to open gifts. Soon after eating, everyone left for church. We didn't want to go as they were all going to the family service and we didn't need to see all the babies and toddlers there. The assistant minister is also pregnant and my Mom says that she talks about her pregnancy a lot when giving a sermon. We went home and I made a pie and knit for awhile. When everyone got back to Laurie's, we went back too. Lindsay sat on the floor with Ben putting things in the stockings (Ben doesn't realize that that is Santa's job yet). There was a stocking for each person there, but there should have been another stocking getting filled up. Laurie mentioned fixing some of them up, then looked at me and said that she would make a new one for next year too. Hopefully we will have a baby in our arms (so much for not thinking that way anymore) to use it.

A few pictures of Christmas Eve:

So hard to get a good picture of them together. 

Couldn't resist getting a picture of this when Danny grabbed
the bag and started playing with it. Laurie knew right
away why I wanted this picture. 

After that was done, someone put on the movie Up. Within seconds I started remembering the first time we watched that movie. I was almost 3 months pregnant with Jacob. Lindsay had come over for a movie night. I had been really nauseous, but that night was the first time in months that I had been able to sit on the couch instead of having to lie down on it all evening. It was a huge step and I started feeling better from that day on. About 10-15 minutes into the movie, the main character is married and they are getting a nursery ready. But then things go wrong. They don't specify whether they lost a baby or whether they can't get pregnant, but there is a scene with the husband and wife in the doctor's office crying and then a scene of the wife sitting in the backyard, staring off into the distance. I don't know why they would have been painted and furnishing a nursery if she hadn't been pregnant, but she didn't look it. I just assume that she lost a baby. I hadn't really remembered that scene and Ted and I just looked at each other and decided that we would leave soon. I just didn't want to watch the whole movie. I was talking to my Mom today and she told me that when that scene came on, she was worried about us and that my brother-in-law Brian later told her that he couldn't even look at us during and immediately after watching that scene. I love that they both felt that way.

We came home and Jessie and Dave came over a bit later, as they were sleeping over. Ted and Dave sat up playing video games while Jessie and I talked in the kitchen. Eventually we moved to the living room too, where I fell asleep.

I cried twice that night. Once, when the pie was baking and I listened to Sarah McLachlan's Song for  Winter's Night and looked at Jacob's pictures. The second was after we got back from Laurie's for the night. Ted was in the shower. I sat at the kitchen table in the dark and just cried.

Christmas morning we went over to Laurie and Andy's before Ben woke up. While things were quiet, I looks some pictures of Jacob's bears and the tree.

Jacob's bears. I knit a new sweater for the bear that Ted
and I bought last year.

Also had to get a picture of Jacob's stocking with the others.
There was nothing in it, but I liked to see it there.

We opened our stockings, made breakfast, then started opening gifts. Mom wasn't feeling well and needed to go home and rest, so we did our family picture before she left.

With the bears for Jacob, of course. 

Laurie had made a gift for everyone, but the store she ordered it from didn't have them ready in time. She made us each a book of photos with us and her kids. It was a lot of work and she was so disappointed and they weren't ready in time. Before Ted and I left for the garden around 1pm, she showed Ted and I what our book looked like online. The pictures were great and we love it. But then we got to the last 2 pages. There was a picture of Jacob's name from last winter, written on the hat of a snowman. On the next page was a note. It basically said that we all wish that Jacob was included in these pictures and that he was here with us this Christmas. That he will always be missing and we will always miss him. Of course I started crying right away and gave her a huge hug and told her how much that meant to me. She said that of course she had to include him somehow.

We went home and got the rose that I bought the day before. We parked in front of the garden and I noticed that there were already 2 bouquet's of flowers there. One of them wasn't very close to where Jacob is buried, but one of them was and I said to Ted that I wondered it could be for him. That maybe my family put it there the night before when the went to church, or maybe my friend Jackie brought them. But it is about a 45 minute round trip to the garden from Jackie's house.

So we walked up and I saw that the flowers were daisies (the flower for Jackie's son Oscar). We pulled them out and saw this on them.

Tears came to my eyes and I was just so grateful. We love it. Then we put our rose in the garden, talked to Jacob and hugged each other for a long time, wondering how it's possible that this is where we visit our son on Christmas Day.

We went back to Laurie's and told everyone about the flowers that were left there for Jacob. It just made us so happy.

After another hour or so, Lindsay, Brian, Ted and I went to our house to get dinner ready. Ted did most of the work. Lindsay's friend Sana came over, as she has for the last few Christmases. Dad came over before dinner, but Mom didn't feel well enough to eat so she stayed home.  It was a nice time. I was very aware of the high chair that was missing, it wasn't totally overwhelming.

After dinner, we watched a few episodes of Modern Family, a show that we all love. It was around 9:30 when everyone left.

It was a good Christmas, but people were missing. They will always be missing. We can still enjoy ourselves sometimes, but they will always be missing and we will always be aware of that.

Just a few more pictures from this Christmas. Jennifer, Angel's Mom, took two pictures of Jacob's name in Jamaica, one on Christmas Eve and one on Christmas Day. Thank you Jennifer. I love them.

I also received two very nice gifts from Allison. 

One for each baby

It won't be Jacob

Last night, shortly after we got home from work, Ted told me that he has been doing a lot of thinking about having another baby. My heart started pounding a little because I didn't know what he was going to say. He said that he really wants another one, but in a way (just a small way) he doesn't....because the baby won't be Jacob and he wants Jacob. I want him too. When I was pregnant after losing him, I was happy for that baby, but I ached for Jacob even more.

But we can never have him in this lifetime.