I miss you

Before you read this, please understand that this isn’t going to be like any of my other posts.  Its not something I write with a light heart.  Its something I need to get off my chest.

Today marks a day that will forever be burned into my brain.  2 years ago I gave birth to an amazing little boy.  From the amnio that we’d had done, we know he was perfect.  From every ultrasound we’d had, he kicked and squirmed like he was determined to be a soccer player or something.  He was, by all accounts, going to be perfect- a handful, no doubt (hey, he had 2 older brothers to imitate)- but absolutely perfect.

On July 8th, 2009, I went in for my check up.  I was 19 weeks along.  I had my boys with me.  At first he couldn’t find the heartbeat with the doppler.  He didn’t act worried- he went and got the ultrasound machine, claiming that our baby was probably just lying in a weird way.  My doctor asked my boys if they wanted to see their little brother.

I knew something was wrong.  My little squirmer wasn’t moving. 

My doctor still tried to assure me that things might be ok.  He sent me down for a better ultrasound.  I knew my boy was gone.  They told me that, from the looks of it, he stopped growing at 15 weeks along, so that’s when he most likely passed.  It will always be a question in my mind if the amnio I’d opted for had been the cause- the 2 instances coincided so closely together.

After a lot of issues with insurance and what not, we ended up having to deliver my baby instead of getting the “easier” D&E.  Christopher Scott was born at 12:10 a.m. on July 10th. 

In a way, it was a good thing we had to deliver him.  I ended up getting an infection that they had to treat with antibiotics.  If we’d gone to PP to get the other procedure done, who knows what could have happened to me.  It was too hard to want to hold him after he was born- I couldn’t even look- but they gave me a box with some things in it, including a picture.  I’ve yet to look at it, but its there.

Now that its been a couple of years, I’m doing better.  Its still hard- like when I look at Nicholas and wonder what Christopher would have been like- but I’m not a mess.

There are some things I learned after losing him that you don’t fully grasp unless you’re in that situation- things like, don’t call someone who has just lost someone they love unless you can keep it together.  The last thing they should have to do during that time is help YOU with YOUR grief.

Also, I will NEVER say “I understand” or “Everything happens for a reason”.  You never actually CAN understand since every situation is different and -even if you can give the exact reason why God allowed it to happen- no one cares when they’re going through that.  I’ve learned that the best thing a person can say is “I’m here”- and then hold on for the ride, because its an emotional roller coaster.

I asked a friend the other day (who had gone through a similar situation) when I would ever feel completely normal, and she made a good point- this IS now my “normal”.  Some days I’ll feel great.  Some days I won’t.  Some days I won’t think about him at all- and that’s ok.  Some days I’ll remember that I haven’t thought about him and I’ll feel guilty- and that’s ok, too.

I also realized that there is NO timeline for grief.  Everyone says that, but what people say and what they expect are 2 different things.  Its one thing to say you feel down or upset about losing him a month or 2 after it happens, but after a while, most people patiently (and some not so patiently) listen to you, all the while wearing a “you’re not over it yet?” look on their faces and once you’re finished, they ask if you’ve talked to someone yet.

Well, duh- YOU are someone.

Not once did I say I’m DEPRESSED or SUICIDAL.  I just said I’m feeling “DOWN” or “OFF”.  I didn’t ask for answers or for you to even open your mouth.  I needed to talk.  To open up.  If people need someone to vent to about their crappy bosses and horrible traffic they encountered on the way home, shouldn’t I get to vent about losing my baby?  Not once would I ever listen to someone say,”Argh!  My husband is SO annoying!  He pissed me off SO bad!  He REALLY hurt my feelings!” and then come back at them with,”Have you talked to someone about how you feel?”  Tomorrow, your boss might give you a deserved raise; traffic will clear up, and your husband might apologize.  I won’t see my baby until I get to Heaven.

I understand there’s a reason for everything, or, more accurately,”Romans 8:28 (King James Version)
“And we know that all things work together for good to them that love God, and are the called according to his purpose.”  I look at Nicholas everyday and think about the fact that -if we’d had Christopher- Nicholas wouldn’t be here.  And then the guilt comes.  I think about what the world lost when Christopher died and what the world gained when Nicholas was born.  I know God has a plan for all that has happened, and its not my job to “figure it out” but to watch it unfold.  Its not always easy to remember that- and its NOT something I wanted to hear right after we lost him- but I get that.

In the mean time, today marks a sad and special day.  It was the day I officially said,”See you later” to my baby and the day that my baby got to get his first hug from God.  Sometimes I remind myself when Camo doesn’t check in on time or when Jacob rides his scooter too far out of my line of sight, I ALWAYS know where my Christopher is- he’s in the safest arms of anyone I’ve ever known.

And I’m sure he’s running around, causing everyone in Heaven to laugh, and talking their ear off.  He IS, after all, my son.


7 thoughts on “I miss you”

  1. Beautiful post. I am so deeply sorry you had to got through this. Our fist angel died at 11 weeks and I was devasted. 14 years later I still get a little sad when November rolls around. People don't know what to say, I know I did not until it happend to me and even then I don't know what to say. I will be thinking of you and all your babies today and sending you all lots of love! Take care friend.

  2. It's always comforting to know that his last day on earth was his first in Heaven…I hope and pray that no matter what you go through you will always feel the peace and love of God in your life.

  3. Wow. It still amazes and saddens me how common this is. We lost our 4th in my 2nd trimester. Like you, one day he was fine, the next week the heartbeat was off. I had 3 ultra-sounds in 5 days & I was forced to see that little heart beat dwindle down to nothing. We opted to let nature take it's course and two weeks later at work I stood up and lost the baby. Thank God it was a holiday & I was doing overtime. There was almost no one there to see.For me, and me only, the way I survived the loss was to convince myself that something happened to my baby and God was going calling him home. The doctors advised me not to try to get pregnant for 6 months. I was pregnant less than 5 months later. What do they know anyway? Our 4th son now is a blessing. He has aspergers and without him, I wouldn't know such a love and such a bright mind. Without having lost a baby, I wouldn't have my Jimmy.Every October 11th is hard for me. That's the day I lost him at work, not the day he passed away. I don't get it, I really don't. But I don't question God either. It is what it is and someday I will be with all 7 of my children. Bless you and your boySharon

  4. I'm so sorry. I had no idea you'd gone through this, and I can't even imagine how hard it must be. Your last sentence made me smile…can you imagine the roughhousing that will occur when all of them are together again one day? Is that what causes thunder? Thinking of you…

  5. {{{hugs}}} We find a way to get through it, but we never get "over" it. I don't think that we should…they are our babies and they have our hearts. My Dorian was stillborn at 20 weeks on 15 July 1993. I didn't "get over it" fast enough and a doctor even had the nerve to say I was nuts for grieving for my baby. That was the last time that I went to that doctor. In my estimation, he was the one that was nuts, not me.Within 6 weeks of losing Dorian, my little man was on the way. If I hadn't lost her, I wouldn't have him, but oh how I would love to have them both. Here. With me now. But, I have to wait until Heaven to be with my Dorian and my other three little ones that went to Heaven at much younger ages than my Dorian – Gracie, Bobby, and Heather. My little man is my miracle. Heavenly Father heard the cries of my grief and brought me comfort in the form of a beautiful little brown-eyed boy. I didn't know eyes could go from blue to brown so fast. There's so much more that I could say here, but I've gone on way too long already. I want to thank you for sharing your blog with me. I am a new follower. Thank you for your sweet note in response to my blog post "Heaven's Playground". May Our Father continue to bless you and your family. Your sis in Christ,Suz

    1. Thank you. It IS lifelong, but I know where he is, and I’ll see him again someday. I’m looking forward to that day, but until then, you’re right- I have an amazing supportive family.

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