...

I still don't know what to say.
that's why i haven't written.

my heart still aches for my son.
the tears still trickle.
my chest still tightens.
i cry in the shower.
i cry before i go to sleep.
i sit and stare at his picture.
i hold a doll like it is my son
... but i hug it tighter than i could if it were him.
i still blame myself.
i still wish.
memories still snap into my consciousness.
my heart breaks over and over.
i move forward in time
dealing with all this and trying to harmonize my son's death into my life.
it never really works.
i "pinterest" and look at all the positive quotes I have collected
all the beauty and inspiration i have collected.
i see my psychiatrist.
i go to a support group.
i don't watch the news or read newspapers.
i do card exchanges, gift exchanges, get togethers.
i attend candle lightings, butterfly releases, birthdays for children that are not here.
i talk to my son.
i cry to him.
i wish i could dream of him.

The old water pump at Chase Farm. It used to be right beside the barn.

the holidays are the days before we learned our healthy baby's heart stopped. the days when we were anticipating our second child who was supposed to arrive towards the end of January. On this day I was hoping that maybe he would be born early because I knew that now his lungs and heart were mature enough for him to be healthy and survive. My then seven year old daughter was even able to hear her brothers heartbeat and make him kick at my appointment two days earlier! we were unaware that we would not get our baby boy and brother. Yes, he would be born early but he would never get a birth certificate. we would never hear him cry, see his eyes look into ours, see his toes and fingers wiggle... we would never get to take him home to love and nurture. He was healthy and strong until his heart stopped beating the day before he was stillborn at 38 weeks. Born early like I had wanted... but maybe I hadn't specified that he was supposed to be alive as well? i thought that it was a given that I would want my son to be alive...guess not. my mistake? he was perfect in every way except he had no heartbeat and no breath, which in reality is far from perfect. he was perfect even with this lack of perfection. He seemed to be sleeping too peacefully. i wanted him to wake up. i wanted his bright red lips to turn pink. his bluish skin to turn pink...like his sister's was when she was born only without the "cottage cheese-y" stuff she had all over her from being an emergency c-section. i didn't want to be afraid of him... but i was. i'm sorry sweetpea.

memories make us who we are. it's too bad that some of them hurt so much but memories are all I have of Kai. i would not get rid of the memories of my time with him for anything. I will deal with the pain and heartbreak as long as I can have the memories of my son.

Race Point Life Saving Stn. Cape Cod. Breeches Buoy apparatus.

Depression comes very quickly, easily and frequently. I wish contentment came just as easily, quickly and frequently. Then... maybe... life would be a bit more bearable.

Provincetown

Kai, your sister was thinking of you on our first day in Provincetown.
She wrote your name on the beach while we were walking. It's low tide so no waves for her to battle!
We all miss you.

Oct. 15th

Today, Oct. 15th, is International Infant Loss Day. Light a candle in your window at 7 pm until 8 pm in remembrance of all the babies that left their families much too soon. We were going to go down to the beach to light our candle but it is supposed to rain all day. Instead we will join a group remembrance at a hospital in Mississauga.
I love/hate these gatherings.
I hate going because it makes me so sad to see so many people whose lives have been affected by infant loss. I hate going because I don't want to be an Infant Loss parent!
I love going because it gives me a chance to really cry without feeling self conscious or silly. I love going because it gives me a chance to talk to others who have been there and understand that I am not constantly going crazy!
I posted the information as my status on facebook yesterday. Several of my friends wrote back that they will light a candle for Kai. Thank you! It warms my heart to know that some of my friends are caring enough to reply and light a candle. It helps to know that they aren't afraid to mention him, remember him, or do something for him. They are SO wonderful and I am thankful for them.

Why is it like this?

It's SO difficult sometimes!

I go out. I do things. I see people. I still feel bad. I see new mommies everywhere. I see new babies everywhere. I see older new mommies everywhere. I feel like I am being stabbed in the stomach. I feel like I'm being punished for something but I don't know what. I know that I can get through it. But sometimes, like today, I wonder if it I am supposed to. My psych says that I'm thinking this way because I'm getting depressed... uh-huh... I know. I tell myself... I'm amazing... I have two beautiful children (unfortunately the youngest one died before he had a chance to be born!)... I have a caring loving husband... I have a healthy, smart, beautiful daughter... I'm talented... I'm strong... I'm smart.......... and I feel like I'm trying to brainwash myself. Why can't I just be happy with what I have? What is wrong with me?!?!

Stillbirth

...Stillbirth is an "Equal Opportunity Destroyer of Dreams". It cuts across age lines, color lines, race lines, class lines, and all lines. Norman Rockwell type mothers can have stillbirths and "drug addicted mothers" can have live births. At present there's no way to predict who will be next. Though stillbirth is as random as lightening strikes in a thunderstorm it is rarely caused by anything the mother did or didn't do during her pregnancy. 

 It is the last unknown mystery of obstetrics....

2 years 8 months and still...

A photo that I took last fall. I think I'll do another this fall on a different kind of leaf.

I spent today looking at the facebook infant loss groups I belong to. Finding comfort in all the posts. A terrible kind of comfort. In my everyday world of being I feel very alone. I can't casually talk about how I am really feeling. I can't say to the guy at the cafe, "Thanks for the tea. Have a good day. Mine will suck because I lost my son before he was born and no one knows why. My daughter is lonely and really, really wanted a sibling and I disappointed her.  We have been trying to get pregnant naturally for more than a year and a half and all I do is miscarry but there is nothing wrong with me or my husband aside from our age.". But that is what I want to talk about!

I was crushed last weekend when my daughter called from her friend's house asking if she could stay until after dinner because someone was going to be visiting and bringing their baby. I felt like... a failure. And I was jealous of this woman with a baby who could so easily catch my daughter's attention before they had even met! I want the new mommies exercise group that meets in the park across from my house to go away... or at least let me look after their babies while they exercise. I hate feeling this way. I don't like having negative feelings for people I don't know. I don't like feeling jealous because someone has a baby to coo over, love and hold and mine never made it home. I don't like feeling like I can't rely on my own body or my own mind. I know it takes time and that even with time the emptiness will still be there but it will become more a part of me. I will adapt and learn to live with that emptiness and it will become my new normal. But I have never had an old normal! Actually, my old normal was being chronically depressed for the last thirty years. I'm unsure of how to incorporate the new emptiness and sadness with the old emptiness and sadness... this is so hard... I've begun collecting words of wisdom, quotes, and inspiration on Pinterest. I read them over and over to myself. Some express how I feel (and I didn't even write them so that means someone else out there feels the same way!), some are ways in which to think, some are reminders and some just feel right. My therapist told me I should pin them up on the walls so I have begun making little quote scrapbook pages in Scrapblog. I'll get them printed as photos and put them up beside my dresser. I hope it works... if I ever finish making them.

Misery loves company.
It's true. It is no good to feel this kind of misery and have no one to talk about it with - no one to share it with who can understand and who isn't afraid to let you know or see that they understand. Yes, I have my husband and he is wonderful but he's not very good at being emotional support in terms of talking and expressing. He listens. But a lot of the time I feel like I'm talking to a mannequin. He tries... but I don't think he gets that I need more than someone who will listen and look after making sure I have tea to drink or that I've taken my meds.

Would it be incorrect or macabre to have an infant loss social club where we could get together face to face to talk and give each other hugs and tissues over wine and cheese?  I really need talking about Kai, the emotions tied to losing him, the memories to be part of my everyday world. Not just the world In my head or in my house.

One of my favourites from a photographer on DeviantArt,  ~engravedwithMusic. She's even from Canada!