Sometimes when I have a good day... When I laugh or smile or find myself feeling invincible I feel like I've cheated you. Pushed you out of my mind that day. I'm sorry, son.

Reflecting on the meltdown.

Saturday was Mac's 2nd birthday party and with it, all hell broke loose. The day started off terribly. Your father and I were both in disgusting moods and we had been bickering and raising our voices at each other all day over nothing. Presley came home from Nick's sick last week and she was really feeling it Saturday so of course she was whiny and cranky as well. We went to Michael's basketball game and Kim didn't speak to me the entire time, of course. And put out very minimal effort when I tried to make small conversation. The only thing she seemed to enjoy as far as I was concerned was when Mark told his folks the story of me punching myself in the face. Of course, that got a giggle. Then Mimi showed up late to our house so we could ride together, inevitably making us late to the party.

The party was where the chaos really began. I don't know what triggered it, but I was an absolute basket case during the whole party. When I wasn't crying or giggling, I was zoning out or sitting absolutely silently; hoping I could fade into the background. When everyone gathered outside to chit-chat and smoke cigarettes I sat in a chair and took pictures. Then finally my brain just didn't feel like it could do the happy family setting so I let my mind wander to a different planet.

I went into the toy room to be with Presley and to try and avoid the other mothers and their annoying, needy children. Yes, I know this sounds terrible since the majority of those mother/children duos are my family, but that's how I was feeling. We sat in silence for a while and I just enjoyed watching her play and function on her own. As I should have expected, the heard of mother cows came in to the toy room and of course, somehow the topic of pregnancy and babies was brought up immediately in their extremely shallow, forced conversation. One mother(not related to my self) talked about her one year old and having baby fever. Apparently, this woman wants to get pregnant again since her pregnancy was such a breeze last time. That was the last straw. I just rose to my feet and left the room without saying another word. I drifted down the hall and forced myself straight into the bathroom where I burst into tears. Panic attack number 1. I looked at myself in the mirror and all I could think was how pathetic I must look to the rest of the world. The women who have perfect pregnancies. The parents who have never lost a child. The mothers who become pregnant at the drop of a hat. The parents who choose to ignore what blessings they have in their children. Some time between trying to ponder what a hopeless wreck I am, and wanting to tell those women to fuck off, that they would never understand, I heard the cattle graze right passed the bathroom door and into the front of the house. After I felt I could regain my composure, I went straight into the living room and sat next to my sister in law on the couch.

My sister-in-law(who was once part of the herd) and myself sat in peace for a moment before my aunt just had to come and join us. This should have been a warning sign in the first place since she is someone I am trying so very hard to avoid. After all, her own name-stealing daughter is currently pregnant. After telling her I was having a rough day and saying that I just could not handle the mere thought of babies or the sounds of other women talking about them, I told her about our move. "Blah, blah stock family response". Not even five minutes later, my sister-in-law asks my aunt how my cousin's pregnancy is going. What the actual fuck?! And my aunt begins to tell a "heart warming" tale about how the doctors feared that her pregnancy would be extremely difficult and painful but so far there is nothing wrong and besides a little discomfort, that she is doing wonderfully. Panic attack number 2. So she can have a baby with a woman beating, drug abusing loser and a second wonderful pregnancy with a man who is in prison for lying to the Air Force but I can't have one with my music pastor husband? I call bullshit! And of course right after this was discussed they decided to open presents and I couldn't go lock myself in a closet somewhere because my dumb ass volunteered to take pictures.

After cake and ice cream, we all retreated back outside. I was sitting in a circle with my brother and my husband when my sister-in-law walked over. Maybe she should be the symbol for trouble in this story? My brother asked what was wrong because I was zoning out again and it all just poured from my mouth. The flood gates were opened and there was no way of closing them again. I told him about both instances and my SIL said that last conversation was probably her fault since she is the one who asked, thus opening the conversation. Tears began to fall and I told her not to worry about it or feel bad because I'm not one to create conflict or try to make my loved-ones feel bad. Enter Melinda.

Melinda is the cousin who, during my pregnancy with Eli, told me I was stupid to be so careful and superstitious. That she was a nurse and she constantly ate whatever she wanted, dyed her hair, etc while being pregnant and that I was basically being a scaredy cat. She is the cousin who couldn't stop posting complaints that she was nauseous or that her nose was runny and basically "poor, pitiful, pregnant me" bullshit while we were getting the news that our son was dying and had the 10% odds. When my aunt, same as mentioned above, told her that she should see these things in her pregnancy as a blessing because some of her own family members didn't have it that easy, she basically responded with "That has nothing to do with my pregnancy and I can say whatever I want. It doesn't mean my child isn't a blessing.". Which I viewed as 'who cares what my own family is going through'. Have I also mentioned she slapped one of her step-daughters and told them that she hated them and only tolerated them because she loves their dad? Not a big fan of this woman. Anyway, in she walks, two hours late for my nephew's birthday party with her infant daughter. The one who clung to life when her pretentious mother dyed her hair, ate bad food, and gave zero fucks about anyone but herself. I have nothing against the child. Quinn is her name. In fact, I see her as a blessing. Parents will never fully understand the importance of their children until one has passed on. Of course, everyone passed the baby around and couldn't stop talking about how beautiful she was and how we need more babies in this family. I was on the brink of throwing my body into the freezing cold pool with no intention of trying to swim, when she was handed to my mother. That felt like the ultimate betrayal. I'm sure to anyone who hasn't been in my situation, that wouldn't seem like a big deal. But here was my mother with this baby. Talking about how long it's been since she's held a baby, hearing her coo and make baby talk. That was a heartbreak I will never be able to explain. Panic attack number 3. And since my daughter is totally and completely obsessed with my mother, she had to go over to her and see what all of the fuss was about. She just stood there wide-eyed and marveled at that baby; like she should have done with Eli. And then she walked over to ask me why we didn't have a baby. That she wanted one. Literally one of the worst feelings I have ever felt. So I looked at Mark and asked him if he would please ask my mom if she was ready to go. That I couldn't take it. He just sat beside her for awhile while she held the baby and chatted about how wonderful it all really is. I'm sure I gave him the worst look after a few moments because all of a sudden, he punched it into high gear. I guess I expected him to know that this was a situation I could not emotionally handle. One of the few times he wasn't trying to protect me, I needed his protection the most. We said all of our goodbyes and all loaded into my mothers jeep to go home. There, in the front seat of my mother's car, beside my husband, came panic attack number four. I did not even try to hold it in. It overcame me like a flame to paper. I began crying in their driveway, all the way out of Edmond, past Frontier City, and almost to downtown OKC before I felt like I could stop and breathe again. My sweet daughter was offering hugs and held my hand, telling me she loved me and that she didn't want me to be sad.. Just being her all around wonderful self. My husband set his hand on my lap, leaving me the option of whether or not I would like to take it into my own: which of course, I did. And my mother kept telling me that I wasn't allowed to cancel our shopping trip to go home and lay in bed depressed all evening. They really came through for me in the in.

Moral of the story: always take your own vehicles to family parties. And maybe some prozac.

By the way, mommy loves her new toy! (If you can't tell)

I have news...

Ta-da!

We got the job son!!!! This weekend was more than amazing and I can't put in to words how happy I am that this will soon be our home. Thank you for looking out for us, honey. Mommy loves you!

Sometimes I really wish I would have gone on with you.

Your father was having a rough time this morning. We both knew today would come and we both knew it would be beyond difficult. It feels like there is a blanket of sadness atop our heads and hearts today. He sat on the big chair and held your sister until the very last second today. He even let her put a princess crown on his head and that is saying something! As soon as he put her down he had to leave for work and I could tell he was having an inner struggle with leaving me here alone. Your sister is leaving for her dad's house in a few hours. 

Presley and I have been coloring pictures for you all morning and I took some pictures of her with your bear. I'm hoping to track her growth as well as celebrate you at the same time. I hope that's okay. All morning I have been trying not to let many thoughts implant themselves into my mind because I have so much to do before our mini-vacation tomorrow. But I promise, as soon as I'm done cleaning and packing bags, you will probably have a novel's worth of thoughts to bore you to death. 

You are the reason I continue to live and breathe, my son. 
I want nothing more than to make you proud of your mother here on Earth.

Only the best for you!

I made a few signs to add to your photos to mark them and your sister just absolutely insisted on 'helping' me color them. She held your bear for awhile and became very upset when I told her it was time to give you back to me. She asked me if she could go up to heaven to play with you and I told her no but that someday the two of you would be together and could play for all eternity. Then she asked me if she could die so she could be with you. It certainly stung, but it is also warming to know how much she loves you and how impatiently she too is awaiting the day when she will be able to see you.

11/10/11

You would have been six months old today. I think about you SO much son. If you were here with me you would be sitting up and eating baby food and amazing us all at your growth. Today you will possess my heart like only you can do. I love you so much my beautiful child.

On my tumblr, I have been doing a 30 day grief survey. So far it seems to be helping a bit. It's making me dive a little more deeply into the things that I try to block from my mind. I figure when I finish it there, I will transfer it onto this site and elaborate quite a bit more.

Friday we leave for Nebraska. I really hope this trial run goes as smoothly as possible. There is nothing I wouldn't give to be able to move away and start over. I know if it is what is meant for our family, God will let us know. And I know you'll have something to do with that as well. I always feel like you are protecting us. Today just seems unbearable.

Missing you son.
-Mom

Wow..

Milwaukee Journal, October 6, 2011, Laura Schubert

Did you know that October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month? I'll bet not. Despite the infant mortality crisis that's been at the forefront of Milwaukee's public health news for months, the only people who have more than a cursory comprehension of what it means to lose a baby are those who've lived it.

Infant loss is nature's cruelest practical joke. It's investing all of the required time and effort into pregnancy, only to be robbed of the result. It's cradling a body that grew within your own and trying to reconcile the cold, lifeless form in your arms with your memory of the baby who turned double flips in your womb.

It's worrying that you'll forget what your child looked like and snapping an album's worth of photos that no one will ever ask to see. It's sobbing so hard you can't breathe and wondering if it's possible to cry yourself to death.

Infant loss is handing off a Moses basket to the nurse who's drawn the unfortunate duty of delivering your pride and joy to the morgue and walking out of a hospital with empty arms.

It's boxing up brand new baby clothes and buying a 24-inch casket. It's sifting through sympathy cards, willing your foolish body to stop lactating, clutching your baby's blanket to your chest in hopes of soothing the piercing ache in your heart.

It's resisting the urge to smack the clueless individuals who compare your situation to the death of their dog or who tell you you'll have another baby, as if children are somehow replaceable.

Infant loss is explaining to your 7-year-old that sometimes babies die and being stumped into silence when she asks you why. It's watching other families live out your happy ending and fighting a fresh round of grief with every milestone you miss.

It's being shut out of play groups for perpetuity. It's skipping social events with expectant and newly minted mothers because, as a walking worst-case scenario, you don't want to put a damper on the party.

It's listening to other women gripe about motherhood and realizing that you no longer relate to their petty parental complaints because, frankly, when you've buried a baby, a sleepless night with a vomiting toddler sounds something like a gift.

Infant loss is pruning from your life the friends and relatives who ignore or minimize your loss. It's recognizing that, while they may not mean to be hurtful, the fact that they don't know any better doesn't make their utter lack of empathy one whit easier to bear.

My baby girl would have been 5 years old this month. I don't know what she'd look like, what her favorite food would be. I've never had the privilege of tucking her into bed, taking her to the zoo or kissing her boo-boos. I will never watch her graduate or walk down the aisle.

Infant loss is more than an empty cradle. It's a life sentence.






I read this today and I was beyond moved. The woman who wrote this has this down to a science. I think these thoughts on a daily basis. I just want you to know that you're most certainly loved and missed and that you are always on my mind. 


All my love
-Mom

Two "letters" today, son.

Today I will be writing two "letters" to you. The second will actually be a story that I need to get out and the first is an actual letter.

Dad heard from Chris on Thursday night. We will be headed up to Nebraska the weekend of November 11th to determine whether or not we move. Dad is going to play worship on Sunday and practice with the band on Saturday and I am just crossing my fingers and praying to God that we like what we see and so do they. It will be wonderful to get away from here. I won't have to drive past the hospital where you were born every time I want to go to the movies, or Walmart, or out to eat sushi. Your sister won't have to put up with her father and all of the drama and frustration that would ensue if she had a life where she was constantly let down. I just really, really want this for our family. I'm praying my knees off, honey. Could you put in a good word for us with the big man?

I love you.
-Mom

We're waving

Your sister wanted to say hello to you. Love you, honey!

Hold on tight, honey!

So much has happened since my last letter. I'm going to try to stay as organized, and in sequential order as possible.

Roughly two weeks ago, your dad heard from a pastor in Nebraska. His name is Chris and he is Arjay's older brother. Apparently they are looking for a full time worship pastor. They have been talking back and forth to one another and on Sunday, your dad had me proof-read his "religious-views" questionnaire before he sent the email. Last night after your sister went to bed, Chris called and they stayed on the phone with each other for over an hour. Chris asked dad some questions and allowed dad to ask him some questions as well. It seems like your dad got the job. Chris is supposed to call us on Friday and set up a time for us to go up there to see if we like the town/church and after that there is really nothing standing in our way. Moving away from our families is going to be extremely difficult, but starting over would be so good for the two of us. No more fake friendships. No more ex-bf drama. It'll be nice to not be reminded of you in unpleasant ways. I won't have to drive past the hospital where you passed on the way to the movie theater. People who don't understand will stop asking what happened to my baby and telling me "sorry about your loss" or "I thought you were pregnant". As long as I have known your father, all he's talked about is being a full time worship pastor and he is so close to his dream! I am so inexpressibly proud of him. It would be an almost 10k raise per year and your dad said he would send me back to school if we move up there.This is all happening so fast but we are beyond excited! Of course, your trunk will be preserved and handled with supreme care if we do end up moving. I'll keep you filled in as this development progresses.

Your sister turned three on Saturday! We had her party the same day. It was crazy son. I feel like I just recovered from it yesterday. She had a Rapunzel themed party, of course. And she wore her Rapunzel shirt and a purple tutu. So Presley. We rented her a princess bouncy castle and that is what all of the kids wanted to do. They only left for cake and ice cream time and presents. When everyone got there we just had kind of a laid back time for adults while the kids bounced. After bouncing it was present opening time and then we had the cake. It was a pretty good turnout! The kids had a blast! Bobby broke the pinata open and of course he had to hulk hit it. It flew all over David and Presley... good lord. After the party Mark and I took Presley to Chick-fil-a and Meemaw, Pappaw, and Mimi met us up there. All in all, it was one exhausting day.

May 22, 2011

My journal's pages are literally beginning to fall down so I am copying this letter here so it is not lost forever.

My Dearest Eli,

There is not a day that goes by that I don't think of you. Sometimes I cry, sometimes I'm happy, sometimes I'm angry, but I always feel so cheated. I miss you, my son. Holding you for those few brief moments will last forever, and at the same moment, they weren't near long enough. I have never wanted anything as much as I wanted you. I held on to you for as long as I could. When the doctors gave me their diagnosis and asked if I wanted to terminate, I refused. I knew that every second spent with you would be completely worth it. And I was right. I can't help but feel so alone. I want to hold my son. To kiss you. To feel your warm skin in my hands. To watch you grow up. To see your smile and hear your laughter just one time. To see your eyes. To hear your voice. I feel so cheated to be robbed of so many things. You father has been nothing but sweet and supportive and still all I do is continue to feel alone. I cry alone. Crave being by myself. When you left, you left a huge hole inside of me. No mother should have to lose their child. For the rest of my long life, I will have an nonrefillable void. I don't want to try again becaise I don't want you or anyone else to think that I am trying to replace you. Presley doesn't understand pregnancy and she doesn't realize that you are gone, but the day will come when I have to explain that to her and I just have no idea what I will say.

The truth is, your passing has made me question everything in this life: my marriage to your father, my past and future, my faith, my ability to be a mother, my sanity, all of my relationships... every thing. I know it is ridiculous to write a letter that you will never read, but I have to feel like I still have you in some way: other than sitting in a trunk in my bedroom. No mother imagines bringing home her son in a manila envelope.
I've said all I can say for now, Eli. Any more digging and I think I might just lose my mind. I love you, always and forever. 
-Your mother

Hey babe

Today was the OU/TX game so of course we just had to watch that. It was, however, the first time that I saw a newborn without wanting to cry or punch something. I won't lie to you, I didn't hold her. Or go anywhere near her for that matter. But, it was one of the first times that being around a small baby didn't absolutely tear me apart. I'm celebrating every small victory that I can.

Love you, son.
-Mom

Just rambling today, honey.

This is the only photo in existence of the two of us together, son. Excuse your mommy's nappy hair, I had just given birth, after all. 

Today is a strange day for me. I've been thinking of you all day long. And I'm not even going to attempt to say that these thoughts flow in an order that would make sense to a normal person so I'm just going to itemize these thoughts instead.

• There will only ever be one picture of the two of us together. How am I supposed to walk around knowing that those moments in the hospital will be my only memories of you?
• Your dad and I went to Wholly Grounds last week (a coffee shop) and I ordered a small, frozen coffee. A small coffee is 12 oz. It was strange for me to think that the treat I was holding in my hand weighed more than you did when you were born. When I tossed it into the trash can I remember feeling like I had lost you once again. Hopefully my Molly Bear won't really take a year to get here. I think if it does, I will just make a bear of my own. 
• Sometimes(especially now that Jamie brought it up to me) I feel like writing a book about loss. I'm sure no one but my family and a few friends would ever see it. But then I start to think that no matter what I wrote or painted or sang or expressed in any way I could think of really; no one will ever truly understand this pain unless it is something they've been through. I don't want to take others to where I am. Don't get me wrong baby, most of the time I am doing very well.. But I will always grieve over you. There will always be dark moments and sad thoughts and I know that will never change because you will never be walking this earth with me.
• In one of my letters to you, I told you I'm too afraid to try to have another child. And that is extremely true. I'm still having nightmares. Another reason I don't want to keep trying; I could never replace you. I don't want anyone to even think that I'm trying. I know that if I ever were to have another child, people would refer to them as my 2nd. But they would really be my third. Technically, they would be my fifth but I was never able to hold your siblings in my hands like I did you. The pain with you is so much more real than with the others. I  held you. I carried you inside of me for months on end. I saw your beautiful face.
  
  
  
  With you, there were many hard decisions that had to be made.
• Do we 'terminate' this pregnancy? When we found out things would ultimately be devastating. This one obviously wasn't a hard decision. I'd take all of the pain all over again. Seeing you was worth the wait.
• Do I check myself into the hospital early and let them take you when I know your chances of survival are even less than the already doomed odds? Nope. I wanted to cherish every possible second that we had together.
• Do we hold you once you arrive? Do we let them bring you to our already haunted room?
  At first the answer to these questions were no. But after going through labor, I just knew I had to see you.
• Perhaps the hardest decision(in my mind, anyway) was whether or not to let the nurse take you from me.
  After I held you twice and your father held you once, I just knew in my mind that if I didn't let you go, it would be that much harder. In those mere moments that we had with you, I fell in love with you. It didn't take words. I didn't have to hear your cries or watch you breathe. You were so very perfect, my son. I knew that the longer I held you, the harder it would be for me to let you go.
  
  
• Sometimes when my arms feel empty, I hold your ashes. I will lay on the bed with that manila envelope  and feel the weightlessness of you on my chest. At night when I can't sleep I curl up in front of your chest with your teddy bear in my lap and I go through your photo album by cell phone light. Though I know you're not physically with me, I can always feel your presence there. I promise son, I will always find time to spend with you.
  
  And I will never cease to write you letters.
  -Mom.

Why mommy is breaking down today.

Hello Eli,


It seems as though mommy is having a breakdown quite often these days. Today I actually have a reason. Emily found out she is having a boy. Oh joy. And all that I can do is think about the fact that my son should be here with me. To make matters worse, his middle name will be Scott. Just like yours. I just don't understand why a member of my family would do that? When they know that I am still grieving so much over the loss of you. I've heard the "maybe it's to honor Eli"... Don't you think that if that were the case, she would have at least told me about it? I'm sure it's after Robert. But that just seems all the more disrespectful to me. That's why I named you Eli SCOTT. She might as well just say "Since your son died, I'll use MY living son's name to honor YOUR stepdad". I get it, he was your birth uncle.. But that name was already chosen. Robert was already honored. I just don't understand it at all. I ended up deleting my facebook and I'm really hoping that I keep it down. All it seems to do is start drama and hurt my feelings. People don't think before they speak. I am included in that as well.


There are moments when I need you, son. Moments when I feel your loss so much more than I did just one moment before. It is definitely one of those moments. Last week at your Uncle Josh's house there was a football game on. I'm not going to pretend that I remember or know the football teams that were playing. But I do know that Eli Manning was on one of them. Every time I heard the name Eli my heart just dropped. It was really the first time I had heard anyone other than family use that name. Much less a sportscaster on television. The family across the street was outside about a month ago and the father and son were playing catch and your dad pulled the car under the carport and just started crying. We just don't know how to handle a life without you yet. We miss you so much.


Love you, Eli Scott.
-Mom

I wonder what you are doing up in Heaven as I write you this letter. I think about this often. Are you with my dad? Have you met Tico yet? I wonder if you've ever met the big man himself... I wouldn't doubt it. You are one pretty impressive little fellow.


I've been having dreams lately about being pregnant. I shouldn't say dreams, they have been nightmares. I wake up in a cold sweat and I can never go back to sleep. I hyperventilate. I panic. I reach this whole other plateau of just bullshit. How do I tell your dad that I don't have the courage to ever try again? We are only 22 and I know he would not understand. I feel as if my body is a baby tomb. I don't want to lose anyone else. Not any of your future siblings, not your father, not your sister... not anyone. I feel so broken down inside, son. I feel like the ugliness and emptiness of my heart has slowly and surely begun to consume me. Inside and out. I am turning into the black abyss that swallows me whole most days.










I'm sorry that I am so random and scatterbrained tonight. I just want you to know everything that you're missing. I feel such a strong connection to you and writing to you really makes me feel like we have a relationship in some strange way.


I love you so much. You have changed my whole entire life, Eli. I remember seeing your beautiful face. Holding you in my hands. Knowing we would be together again someday. The nurse took you away from us too soon. God took you from us too soon. Life went on without you too soon. But I, my son, I will never forget you. I will never move on as if you had never existed.  The rest of my life time will march on and I will be stuck thinking about the time that you “were”. It is becoming extremely difficult for me to keep the balance of real life, mommy/wife time and still be able to grieve. How do I tell my almost 3 year old that I am crying again because I miss someone she never got to meet? How do I go through this process by myself because your father refuses to grieve, to talk, to even mention your beautiful name? I try to force myself to not get upset because I know that everyone handles these things in their own ways, I am just so tired of feeling so alone. These are the moments that I miss you more than ever. 


My daughter and I speak your name often. And with love. With admiration. With hope. With a sense of longing. I would trade anything in my life to be able to hold you again. See your one last time. You want my eyesight, God? It’s all yours. Eli, your name will never be whispered like a secret. It will always and forever roll off of my tongue like a song that only I know so well. I will never walk on eggshells around anyone and pretend that you have never existed just to make them more comfortable. You are, without a doubt, one of the most beautiful things to ever spend even the smallest moment on this earth and I will never take that for granted or swallow it inside of me to ease anyone else’s life.

There are several things I know for certain: I know you were here. I know I have loved you from the very first moment. I know you loved me. I know I held you in my hands. I know that most cans of soup weigh close to what you did at birth. I know you have changed my life; maybe even more. And I know you awaits us in heaven. 

I will go throughout the rest of my life telling your story, Eli Scott. To everyone who will listen and to those who won’t. To everyone who cares and to those who could care less.

Bottom line: You have died. I will never try to bury that deep down in myself. You are a part of who I am. You have made me who I am today. I will never be ashamed to talk to you or about you.

I love you, son. Your big sister sends her love, also. And I hope you can hear us every night when we talk to you at prayer-time. She always says hello and that she loves you. We are so very proud of you, my son, and we always will be.

My dearest Eli,

The last few days have certainly been rough. Your dad and I have been arguing like crazy. Presley woke us at 3:30 this morning throwing up on her self. Your dad changed the sheets. After I gave her a bath and put her pajamas on, I went back to bed. 8 o'clock came much too soon, son. I was definitely on auto pilot all morning. Zombie mom. Not long after I woke up I got a text from my mom that Tico had gotten out. She wasn't able to look because she had to leave for work. So I text our neighbors and had them searching for me all day because Tory was home and I didn't have a car. I put up two posts on Craigslist and even created a lost dog document with the OKC Animal Welfare Dept. Your dad knew how torn up I was about it all and left work long enough to drive around and look. He also spent his entire lunch break looking for Tico. Well, the neighbors found him on the side of the road. I'm waiting to hear back from my mom to know whether he was hit by a car or if he died from heat or some other cause. It is so extremely hard for me to not be angry with your Mimi right now. I just don't understand why she wouldn't have taken the time to look for a dog who has been in our family for 13 years. How can you just leave him roaming the streets and feel okay with it?! He has been through so much with this family. 2 marriages, one divore, god know how many separations. He was there during my pregnancy when I had virtually no friends. He slept on my bed with me. there were countless times that he could sense my emotions and he would just lay with me. Like he just knew I needed someone. I know that he was 16 years old and could have gone at any time; but that is just such a terrible way to go and Tico most certainly did not deserve that. He deserved the best death possible. Sorry I am rambling, son. I lost you in May, dad in June, and now my trusty dog of 13 years. I'm a bit of a basket case.

I love you, Eli. If you see Tico up there, give him a good old back scratch for me. He loves that. And tell Pops that I said I hope Tico is a lot more quiet in heaven or he has a better sound tolerance.

-Mom

Buried.

Days like today are the days that I wish I could see my son the most. Just hold him or tell him everything that is on my mind. I may not want people to hold me while I cry, but I would love to hold him and just let it all flow. Every time someone proves they are unreliable, every time I fight with my husband, every time I feel like I'm about to lose every little piece of my sanity... I just want my son. I feel like all of these problems would seem so minute and small if I could just have my son alive.

Any time I hear pregnant women complain about typical pregnancy symptoms or when I hear mothers gripe about things that their children do; I wish they would just feel one ounce of my pain and then they would all know how blessed they are. I would take a 24 hour long temper tantrum every day for the rest of my life if it meant that I could see my son open his eyes one time. See if they are cocoa brown like his dad's or caramel brown like mine. Hear his laugh. Even his cry.  If you are a mother... PLEASE, I BEG OF YOU: do not take the gift that you have for granted!

Thinking of you so much today, my son. Remembering the way you smelled. How light you were when I held you in my arms. How you have your daddy's nose. I would give anything to be able to hold you for 5 more minutes. I love you so very much! Give my dad a hug for me!

Mother of four; three children short.

I really do believe that the next person who tells me that they are sorry about my miscarriage or anything ignorant along the lines of “At least you didn’t know the baby” will feel my complete wrath. Yes, I had a miscarriage. I miscarried twins last summer. This summer, I delivered my stillborn son. Miscarriage and stillbirth are two completely separate things. Don’t get me wrong; both are extremely painful and I am not trying to invalidate anyone’s feelings or lessen anyone’s losses. All I am saying is, my son was not miscarried. He was delivered into this world at 26 weeks like any other child. I pushed him out of my body the same way that I pushed Presley out of my body. The only difference is that Presley was alive when she was welcomed into this world. 

When people discover that my son had Trisomy 18, that he wouldn’t have survived even if he had made it the full 40 weeks, the most common thing that I hear is “It was a blessing.” -or- “You are so lucky.” How anyone could really believe this, is beyond me. All I can think about is how it really doesn’t feel like a blessing. I lost my son the moment the doctor told me he no longer had a heartbeat, and once Eli was no longer inside of me, it felt like a new, second loss. As each month passes that I know he should be with me, when his due date rolled around, while watching friends and family members’ pregnancies progress: loss after loss. Time does not heal all wounds. Time won’t magically reunite me with my son, or erase all of the memories that I have or the feeling that he should be here with us.

There is nothing on this earth that I love more than my daughter. I watch her grow with pride each day and marvel at the little girl that she is turning in to. Sometimes when I am watching her do small things like pick up a ball, when I hear her laugh, when the sun reflects so beautifully on her long hair… I can’t help but think about her little brother and the twins that we lost so early on. What would they have been? Girls? Boys? What would my children have been like? I keep thinking of Eli, severely damaged by trisomy 18, and how I could have, would have, loved him anyway. The doctor gave us the option to abort. How could I have done that to my son? Once you start loving something, once you invest in it with personality and presence, how can you ever let it go? I think of my son every day. And I know I will until my very last breath. 

If I could tell those children on thing, it would be this: “You may be gone from my body, but you will never be forgotten. Your father and I both love you so very much and we cannot wait to be with all of you some day.”

Welcome

I have my own personal blog, but I wanted a blog dedicated solely to my son, Eli.


My dear son born deceased during my pregnancy at the very early age of 26 weeks. After months of grief, mourning, and waiting; the doctors called to let us know he had been diagnosed with trisomy 18. A condition with which he would not have been able to survive had he made it all the way into this world. I put this blog together to be able to have a place to grieve and mourn and to possibly help or connect with other mothers who have gone through such painful loss.

Over time, I will tell his complete story. I will also share his photos, my memories with him, and other snippits about child loss.