It's a hard week.

WARNING: This post is probably utterly depressing and has details that may not be advisable for someone not wanting to hear about the loss of a child. Please don't read this if you feel you can't handle reading material that includes my thoughts and feelings during and after my child's birth and death. Thank you.


This week is a horrible week for me, while for others it signifies a time to be thankful, I find myself feeling empty and unsatisfied. Why you may ask? Well as previously posted my grampie passed away right before Thanksgiving in 2004, and two years ago tomorrow I gave birth to and lost my son, Conner. While I am thankful for things and people in my life, I still have the sadness that comes with their absence. I can't believe that Conner would have been two years old tomorrow. I feel myself thinking he should be walking around here getting into everything, starting the terrible twos. How do you get over the fact that you have out lived your child? That your child never got the chance to experience life? I can tell you, you don't get over it. You learn to deal with it, to go on with your life because you know that they would want you to. You try to look forward to the things going on with your other children, but your family never seems whole again. There's always an empty spot at the table, an empty stocking, a picture frame that never gets renewed. But I do thank God for the pictures. That is what I am thankful for today for pictures. That is really all I have left of my baby and a small lock of his beautiful hair. It is comforting because if I ever feel I am losing what he looked like I can pull out his picture and remember. I do remember other things because I remind myself often, with fear of forgetting. How soft his cheek felt, his little wavy sideburns, and the kicks I felt when I was pregnant.

Two years ago today I was in labor, both scared and hopeful. I knew that with him being 6 weeks early his life expectancy was even less than it would have been had he been full term, but a part of me still hoped I would hear that cry. After I gave birth to him and they took him to another room, time stopped. I kept thinking, cry baby cry. But it was silent. I think I knew what had happened but for some reason I thought I can't do this, I can't lose it. I have a husband that's going to need me. I do remember crying but it wasn't like I had imagined myself before it happened. I thought I would get hysterical, go crazy. I instead was rather calm. They handed him to me after he was already gone. I just looked at him and thought he looked like Nick. I noticed Nick was watching me wanting to hold his son so I gave him to him. I laid there and watched them together and thought it was the most beautiful scene I had ever seen. A father with his son. I don't remember much after that, well I do somethings but out of respect for my husband I will leave them out. After we had our time we allowed all of our family members to come in one by one to see him. My aunt said I look like any other proud mother wanting to show off her baby. All I could think was how sorry I was to having to share the terrible news with everyone. I was worried about all of them. I didn't want to worry about myself. Worrying about myself was too scary, it meant it had all happened to me and I wasn't ready to accept that. A while after everyone came in we decided to go down stairs to my room. I knew if I didn't leave right then, then I would never be able to. Although now looking back, I regret leaving my baby with those strangers. I don't know what they did with him. For all I know they put him in a box. I can't thing on that too long. That night passed very slow, I didn't sleep at all. I laid there and watched Nick sleep for hours. I felt so responsible for every one's sadness. I mean I was the one who had carried him for 7 1/2 months, I felt responsible for what happened. I know it was just something that happened. Something I had no control over, but a part of me will always wonder what I could have done to make it better. I know in my heart that Conner is better off in heaven. He never had to deal with the evil in this world, but it doesn't mean I don't miss him. The selfish part of me wishes he was here. I know I will never get over that feeling. Leaving the hospital without my baby was one of the hardest things I have ever done in my life. It didn't feel right. As sad as I feel and as horrible as it was I would do it all over again. Just to hold him and see his beautiful face was worth all the pain. Tomorrow we will be doing our regular tradition of making him a cake and sending him letters with balloons. I will try to remember to take pictures and post them. Sorry if I seem scattered right now, I just can't explain the feelings cursing through my body. Be thankful for your children they are each and everyone precious.