Perhaps, instead, our penalty for outliving our children is the task of seeking happiness in the midst of an imperfect world, reinventing ourselves in the midst of our child's ghost, rebirthing in the midst of suffering, or finding a way to love despite the pain. Love, Livingstone says, is the ultimate risk. When we cannot change the parts we wish were different, the unfairness and cruelty of life, we've only one choice. To live or die. Yet, to surrender our existence would be to abandon all that is beautiful about our children who died. Indeed, he says, living after a child's death is both an act of will and an act of surrender. He speaks from very personal experience.

Livingstone is a bereaved parent twice. His eldest son succeeded at suicide, and his youngest, only 13, died of leukemia. How does one exist in a world where children die? I think, perhaps, through that for which we are willing to risk everything- love.

Dr. Joanne Cacciatore

Answers

Before you even read any further - no there are no answers - or at least not yet. I went to the doctor on Thursday hoping to have the results back from the gazillion tests done to find out why Daniel died, but of course not everything was complete. My doctor did tell me that I am completely healthy - there is nothing wrong with me. Approximately 50% of the time parents will not find out the reason for the stillbirth of their child. I know our chances aren't that good right now.

The visit to the doctor's office brought back that wave of grief that has been coming in and out of our lives lately. I should still be pregnant - the visit to the doctor's office should have been in anticipation of my son's birth - not to discuss his death. Instead I was the patient with "post fetal death" annotated next to her name on the patient list sitting on my doctor's desk (HIPAA violation I might add).

I am so tired of feeling sad - I don't want it to take away from the time we have with Sean. They grow up fast. Parents spend their lives just getting through each day only to wake up the next day and do the same thing. It is so important to try to enjoy every moment you have with your child because you'll never get that back and should something happen the memories are all you will have. I don't have an answer as to what is right, but I do know that life can pass you by instantaneously and then one day you find yourself looking back saying - what happened - where did it all go?

Stones

I write less but I also cry less. My heart still has that crushing feeling that makes it hard to breath at times - I suppose its a broken heart. I haven't visited Daniel in almost 2 weeks, but today I decided to drive by after I picked Sean up from school. I stopped going because I really couldn't stand visiting an empty patch of grass surrounded by the graves of other babies sent to heaven. Today was different though - I decided at the last minute to turn into the cemetery with the hope that Daniel's marker would be there. Well the marker was there - they must have just put it in today because all the dirt around it was still loose. Sean was with me so I had to be strong. I thought it would be very emotional and in some ways it was, but it also made me feel good. Almost like it was proof to the world of Daniel's existence.

Even more difficult than seeing the marker was explaining to Sean where we were. I told him that the cemetery is where we can go to talk to Daniel. I tried to explain to Sean that sometimes God takes some babies to heaven - a fact that is made apparent by the grave stones of babies decorated with angels and teddy bears that surrounded us.

I want to be honest with Sean and talk openly about things. He is grieving too. Tonight after I put him to bed I heard him crying, but he didn't call for me. I went into his room and asked him what was wrong. He said "Mommy I don't feel good". I asked him what was bothering him and he said "I miss my Daniel". On top of feeling like I disappointed my husband who I only want to make happy, I feel like such a crappy mother for talking about the baby to Sean for 8 months only to disappoint him.

Daniel has his stone now - he is surrounded by other babies. One thing I notice is that the stones that have been there longer aren't kept up as well. Does this mean that the parents of these babies have forgotten? Does it symbolize the fact that over time you forget? It truly hurts me to visit my baby in the cemetery - I never was one for visiting graves. There are so many other things I would rather do to remember Daniel than visit his grave - but I will because I love him and I always will. He will always be my second born son.