Well, this is the last month of the first year. It’s so hard for me to comprehend. It’s still hard to believe we gave birth to and lost a baby girl, and even more so that it’s been nearly a year.
If she were here, we’d probably be planning a big birthday bash for her. I’d be deciding who to invite, where to have the celebration, and I’d be looking forward to taking pictures of her with cake all over her face. But I can’t even picture that little girl in my head. I can picture the event, but when I think of her all I can see is the newly born baby girl I held in my arms. I can still see those eyes fluttering open for the briefest of moments, and so easily remember the weight of her in my arms. I remember being on a bit of a high after giving birth – I don’t think I truly realized the finality of losing her until we went home without her.
For the longest time I couldn’t imagine a day when the pain wouldn’t be physically unbearable, piercing through my body at all times. And at first, I never wanted that pain to stop. Now I can look at her pictures and talk about her without tears forming in my eyes. Sometimes they still come, but most of the time they don’t. I still miss her so very terribly, but it’s different now. I guess I’ve found my new normal – the one everyone promised would come. But my normal really isn’t normal at all. Even in the happiest of moments, the little voice in my head is there to remind me that I am mother to a baby who lives only in heaven. And it’s exhausting.
Today I had my first annual skin cancer check at the dermatologist’s office (I don’t have it, by the way), and the nurse practitioner who checked me noticed I am pregnant and wanted to know if this was my first. As usual, I said no, and I hoped we could leave it at that. I didn’t feel like getting into the discussion of how I had a baby last year that didn’t make it. Well she wanted to know how far apart they would be, so I said just a bit over a year, still hoping I wouldn’t need to elaborate. Her response was “Wow – oops!”, and then she proceeded to tell me about her friend who had a baby and found out she was pregnant again a few months later because she thought nursing was sufficient birth control. I wish that was our story. That Madelyn and Liam would grow up together, making my life a little crazy for being so close in age, but in such a beautiful way. I could have been completely straightforward with her, but I just didn’t feel like having the conversation, especially not while dressed in nothing but a paper gown as she was examining every inch of my skin, and I mean that very literally. It was awkward enough without introducing death to the conversation.
But that is my normal: having to explain to people that Liam isn’t our first, but that we also have a daughter who is no longer with us. Madelyn will always be our baby, worthy of inclusion in our growing family. I just wish the “but she’s no longer with us” part didn’t exist.
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On another, much lighter, note, Stephanie from Beyond Words Designs is offering a special promotion for everyone who is expecting after loss. She hand paints beautiful canvases that are perfect for any nursery! Her promotion ends August 7, so be sure to stop by and check out her work!
Just stopping by to give you a huge hug and lots of love! xoxo
I get knots in my stomach when I think about the next month and hitting the “1 year” mark.
It is always so hard when people ask that question and have some “Oops” comment. What business is it of theirs how or is someones pregnancies were planned or not? Ugh.
My thoughts are with you today. I know the feeling when someone asks if it is your first. This baby is my third and I know that but than you don’t want all the questions. Its a tough road we’ve been given. Thinking of you.
Reading this gives me a glimpse into my future (hopefully- I am TTC now). I wonder when the stabbing pain will stop, when I will get through a day without feeling totally devastated at least once. I had Jacob almost 2 months ago, so I guess it is still to early for that.
Your post has given me some hope. I know that you are still in pain, but it does get easier to bear for the most part.
I’ve always wanted to name a daughter Madelyn, but I can’t get DH to agree. I love that name and have since I was 9!
I don’t think I hate anything much more than the question, “Is this your first?” It’s so painful and awkward. I’m sending you hugs as you near Madelyn’s birthday!
You know I’m sending you lots of love.
I was just talking about this today…there’s always some nth of truth to every cliche or it wouldn’t really become a cliche…so the old “Time heals” isn’t exactly true, but has an element of reality to it. Time doesn’t heal, but it does remove us from the initial shock and horror…the days that we exist only in breathing alone. Time gives us the ability to look back and see that we have survived and still do, whereas in the beginning, we can’t even imagine how we’ll keep breathing, much less live an hour or day or God forbid, months and years.
Time gives us a perspective that we can’t even fathom when we first lose our children and though it doesn’t heal, it certainly gives us some space from that raw intensity (for the most part) and allows us the ability to cope and acclimate.
Sending you and Liam lots of love!
You know… I think with my loss, the hardest thing is feeling like I can’t talk about it. I lost my baby really early (two years ago today) and I feel like I can’t even say “I have three children” instead of two because of the looks people give me and the things they say behind my back.
Congrats Sweets On Your Precious Baby Boy!! I think of You often and Hope for All the Best for you!!
I will be thinking of you on the 28th on Your Sweet Madelyn’s 1st Angel Birthday and my Anna’s 11.
((Huge Hugs))
Please E-mail me!!
i wanted to say that i’ll be praying for you. it is the 12th month for me since losing my first son (on 08-17-09) and the end of the month will be the 2nd month since my son Levi died (08-28-10).
your blog is very nice. please keep writing your story. people need to know that babyloss momma’s are out there, and we are not scary, contagious, women.
I had a similar thing today. A patient asked me when I was due and when I answered her she asked how many I had. I told her 3 and then she asked their ages. She’s like ‘wow!’ when I told her 2 1/2 and 1. If only….