Wednesday, October 15, 2008

October 15th

Today is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Rememberance Day. I heard nothing on the television, the radio, no reminder e-mail from work - no one mentioned it. Do people forget, do they not care, or do they just want to avoid talking about it. What ever it may be - people should know that acknowledgment is so important to the mothers and fathers who have lost their babies.

You need only light a candle at 7 PM for one hour to show that you remember and acknowledge that the babies we lost were our children - an important part of our lives then and now. This day is just another day that we have to hold in our hearts and get through just like each month, each holiday and each time we see a child who reminds us of the baby we lost. Try to remember - if you know someone who has lost their baby - just take a moment to acknowledge their loss.

The mention of my child's name may bring tears to my eyes, but it never fails to bring music to my ears. If you are really my friend, let me hear the beautiful music of his name. It soothes my broken heart and sings to my soul.

Sunday, October 5, 2008

To Hear Him Cry

I never posted this initially because, for me, it is very personal. It is one moment in my life that I can't seem to dim the lights on. Just the thought of it brings me to tears and it is as vibrant in my mind today as it was that very moment. For any parent who knows the fear of not hearing your baby cry at birth - the worry and horror that crosses your mind; imagine giving birth and knowing that you'll never hear your baby cry.

My body knew exactly what to do with this baby. I had hoped that it would take care of everything for me – that I wouldn’t have to deal with the pain of giving birth to my lifeless child, but nothing in life comes easy. The doctor told me that I “just" needed to push. My husband held my hand and as I closed my eyes I pushed but I suppose my OB could tell that I wasn’t pushing with my heart. I remember her saying to me “you have to let this baby go” and I remember being so mad that she said that. Why would she say that? I wasn’t trying to hold on to my baby. I think back now and realize that I was doing exactly that. Giving birth meant letting go of my sweet little baby forever.

I had an epidural with my first son and I don’t think I felt anything at all – not a contraction, not an ounce of pain - not even my son being born. I was this big swollen mess who, in the end, quit and said "just take him out". Daniel's birth was so much different – I felt no pain but I felt every second of every moment. On my last push I could feel his little lifeless arms and legs pulled from me. I wish I could explain how heavy the silence weighed down on us at that moment. We knew that we would not hear him cry but to hear nothing - to feel the silence that comes along with death - was just so painful. This was the worst day of my life. It haunts me all the time. It has changed who I am both for the good and for the bad.

We miss our son every day. This pain will never go away and although we go about our days living life and being appreciative for what we have we will never be the same. You will never understand this pain unless you too have lost a child - even then there are differences but the root of the pain remains the same.