A Tragedy...

I wrote this wile I was sitting in a L&D room waiting to “pass” the rest of the tissue from our baby. 

Today I lost my Rainbow.

Caught you in my hand.

The second most horrible day of my life. 

Sometime between 12 and 1215am My baby was born in my bathroom. In my hand. No cried were heard, again. 

I love you, always. Give Dakota a hug for us. Tell her we love her, too.

All I wanted was you here, but when you were supposed to be.

I was 15 weeks and 2 days.

Amazing how you know how these things will go after you’ve lost once before. 

I knew to have pictures taken. It was a disposable camera but better than nothing at all. 

This is not something you just know. 

Thanks a lot, God. 

I was starting to heal. Dealing with the aftermath of Dakota. 

You gave me a Rainbow, then caused a fucking Hurricane. 

Thanks. 

Is Dace going to be our only child, here on Earth? 

I shouldn’t have one, let alone 2 babies with wings. 

It’s just not fair. When I was told life wasn’t fair as a teenager and a kid I never imagined this. Nothing at all like this. This is cruel. Inhumane. 

So here I go back to the mad destructive Amber. The complete “Fuck you, Fuck everyone” Amber. 

I hate you, right now. 

I think you owe me a way bigger apology than I owe you. 

HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME AGAIN!?!?!?!?!?!

Why? Why? Why?

As if my family and I don’t have enough on us. Haven’t we sacrificed enough? You only had to do it once, why should anyone have to do it twice?

Obviously, not. 

Why not lost at 6 weeks? I barely knew I was pregnant at 6 weeks.  Why not 11? Why 15 and cause labor and have me catch the baby in my hand? 

My baby fit in my hand. Perfect little arms, perfect little legs. Feet and hands so time you couldn’t see them. 

I loved you from the moment I learned of you. I tried to distance myself. I just couldn’t, especially after I saw you. Tiny little alien baby on the screen of the ultrasound machine. 

I never knew a miscarriage could affect me so much. I believe it is because I caught you. 

Mommy loves you both, Daddy does, too. 

All we wanted was to get you here. Both of you. When you were supposed to.

I don’t believe I will be trying again for a long time. For fear of having my heart ripped out of my chest, again. I now have 2 holes in my heart that will never ever be filled. 

It took a lot of thinking, waiting, and decision making to get you here. Only to have you taken away. 

I have been waiting hours just yo get out of here. 

To Pass the rest.

The meds I was given for doing it naturally are taking forever. Another hour and a half to wait. Then it is on to have a D&C (which never happened). I just want it over and to go home. 6 blown veins, 1 baby dead, and 10 hours later: waiting.  I am always waiting. Trend, this is with Womack. My nurses and anesthesiologists are nice. Awkward, but nice. But then again what an awkward situation to walk in on. A woman who loses 2 babies in 10 months is sitting in a L&D room waiting to “pass” the rest of her baby. No one wants to walk in on that. I believe they are worried about my mental state, like Dustin. I am fine. I am processing losing you too. I am dealing in my way. You are easier to process, having had a stillbirth back in May. But, just as devastating, you were my rainbow after the storm. Now my life is a hurricane.  

I just want to go home and sleep. 

I hope they are gentle with you. I need answers. I need a reason. I never got one with your sister. Not a concrete one. Because they fucked that up. 

Am I meant to have only one living child? 

Was it the moving? The stress? The UTI? A combination? I need to know. It won’t bring you back but I need to know. 

Did this happen because I can’t feel true sorrow for someone whose lost prior to 6 weeks? I know it sounds horrible but I lost a FULLTERM baby and I just couldn’t call it the same. And it made me so angry when someone would try to compare. Even this loss 15 weeks caught in my hand; not the same. I can’t compare the two at all. 

Was it because I don’t think miscarriage compares to stillbirth? 

I believe what I went through today is similar partially. Not the same. There was clearly a baby, the size of my hand. Beautiful and perfect. I will probably never share you with anyone. Because unless you have been there you can’t see the beauty in a 15 week (gestated) baby. I see the beauty in you. Your little bitty nose, the size of a ball on a push pin. Your forming eyes and features. I just wish I knew what you were. 

Why me, AGAIN?!?!

Why us? Have our hearts not suffered enough? 

I have to tell people. I’ll wait until evening. Hopefully I’ll be home. I don’t want to make this call AGAIN. The first time sucked enough. 

How can I be 100% happy for the people around me having babies now aside from rainbow pregnancies? I will be but it is going to hurt. Like hell. I haven’t heard an infant’s cries since my niece was born. And I have had 2 babies since then. Both slipped silently into the world. I hope my friends can bear with me and the pain of seeing their joy that I was denied twice. I will be happy it will just be so hard for me to show it. But the world don’t stop having babies and getting pregnant because my babies died. 

How did I become the 1 in 4 TWICE? 

Why don’t I deserve a baby? I think of all people we DESERVE it. 

If you are trying to make me have faith, God, this is NOT the way. 

They took pictures of you. 2 little hats with the most beautiful blood stains I have ever seen. They lost Dakota’s clothes she had on I have one hat. One. 

What happened? Where did I go wrong? This really can’t be punishment, can it? We’re good people. We help our friends and neighbors. Give when we can. So what we don’t go to church. One don’t have to be christian to be a good person. We respect our elders. We are trying to raise our son the right way; to have manners, be respectful, forgiving, understanding, to know his siblings. Are you punishing him? He deserves a living sibling. He has done NOTHING wrong. 

I hit a HUGE, GINORMOUS milestone in my grief yesterday. 

I HELD A BABY! 

That is right. I went and met a girl I have known “through facebook” for going on 3 years now. Her and her family were passing through on their way to Orlando from Philly. We had lunch with about 10 total kids. Not the madness you’d imagine. It was actually healing and fun. 

I was going to wait and save myself for my next baby. Then a good friend of ours got pregnant. then we moved in with her. I was going to be thrown into a living with a baby before I, still think, I am ready. I was afraid of ending up in a situation that I was the only one around and the baby needed something, right then. So I knew I had to do it and do it soon. What a perfect baby to hold Max was. She is 6 months old. A baby I looked forward to arriving, even after I lost Dakota. 

I had thought about it the whole time I was there. I didn’t know how i would react. I didn’t know if I was going to cry. 

I didn’t cry. It was bittersweet. So, bittersweet. As I held her I thought about how I missed Dakota, and how I knew she was helping me through this. I think she wanted it to be Max. I really do. 

Knowing that I can hold a little girl so close in age to Dakota is amazing. 

I think I need a coin, or something. 

So thank you again, Amanda, for being my guinea pig. Even though I honestly believe it was truly meant to be this way. <3 

Most of the people I know, through this path that was chosen for our family, either lost their first child or their first child was old enough to remember the baby that died. Dace had literally just turned 2. Just 13 days before his sister was stillborn. We tell him that Dakota is the baby in the picture and that she is his sister in heaven. Terms a child his age can comprehend without being scared, aside from Heaven. He don’t understand that yet. My thing is, though, that I have never been so afraid that he will not remember his sister or care to know about her when he is old enough to understand. I have known people to have had parents or siblings die when they were way to young to really remember the person and they have no, absolutely no attachment. While it would be hard to have a child asking questions, losing their innocence, I would rather deal with that than not knowing. I am afraid of having 2 children that will not have an attachment to Dakota. Despite our efforts. The thought breaks my heart. Terrifies me. But I know how to word things so that they will understand when they ask who the baby in the picture is or why we take family photos with a bear. I just want them to know her. That she was here, she was real, she existed. While, no, they would never see her or touch her she is indeed real. And we love her very much. 

We will never forget our daughter. Her memory is forever ingrained in us. Her sweet, pure, beautiful soul that left entirely too soon will forever be in out hearts and always in the backs of our minds. We miss her. We love her. This baby will never replace her. 

I sat almost dumbfounded at a comment someone said to my husband on facebook, it was in good humor, he probably didn’t know what happened. It was to the effect of If you keep popping out kids the world is gonna be in trouble. My heart sank on my third pregnancy and I only have one kid to show for it. While, yes, you are correct I have photos of Dakota but she is not here. What people can not see they do not know exists. Some days are just too painful to admit to having 2 children. I feel ashamed when I say I only have one. Disappointed in myself. For, what kind of mother denies one of her own children. I do it to protect others. I’m tired of the awkward looks and endings to friendly conversations.

That is neither here nor there. Upon a normal conversation with a BLM friend whom I have grown very close to the topic of “would you trade one pregnancy for another” came up. Be both agreed that we would love to have our children that died here with us. I thought about this or a few days now. I have only just begun to feel this baby move occasionally, so I have not started to bond with baby as much as I should have because of the fear of the unknown. While, yes I love my baby already but I am afraid. Cautiously in love with baby. I am afraid that if I get too attached then I will lose this baby as well.  Something my heart can not handle again. But I believe that my response would be the same. I would give all of my senses to have Dakota here, right now, lying in my bed beside her brother sleeping, or slapping him to wake him up to play. But I would also give it all again for this baby to arrive with the loudest of screams. I would become a complete invalid to have ALL of my children here. Sure having 3 kids under 4 would be hard, but to a parent who has lost so much, a small task to conquer. Because like the song says “It won’t be like this for long” Naturally it only applies to the happy ending pregnancies. (SN: Still can’t listen to that song) 

There is unbelievable reassurance when I feel the baby move that everything will be ok. Then there is the dread of my reality. No more blissful ignorance. No more thinking that babies don’t die before they are born. There is no “safe zone” while I feel I have crossed one pregnancy hurdle I know that I am coming upon another. I am scared. I am happy. I am cautious. 

I patiently await my next appointment. I will be almost 17 weeks. Then I will finally get to talk to someone about being seen by high risk doctors.

Every moment of being pregnant is a reminder. A reminder that I can have a healthy baby. A reminder that I can also have a dead one. Realities that no one should ever have to know.

So get a 3D ultrasound, spend the money on it. Get the maternity photos done, you won’t regret it if you did. You’ll only regret not doing it if the worst happens and all you have are a few ultrasound pictures and some pictures from someone with a huge heart. Record babys heart beat in one of those things from Build-A-Bear. You’ll only regret it if the worst happens. Take it from someone who knows. I didn’t do any of these things because I assumed everything was going to be alright.  

The good news is….

We are pregnant with our Rainbow baby :) 

About 12 weeks and Baby is due September 5th.

The rant…

Why do people tell you to “Put it in God’s hands”? God isn’t going to find you a job, get off crack, make you less of an alcoholic, etc. I had put MY baby in God’s hands. What did he do? Took her from me. SO why would I want to do that again. I spent hours waiting for a miracle that never came. Yet those who don’t deserve it get them all the time.  

But back to put it in God’s Hands… You go out and find a job. You make the effort to sober up. God don’t do those things for you. If you are having to find a new job you can’t just leave it it to God…

That statement just bothers me along with all the  other crap that religious people say to you. You can have faith, but you can’t rely on someone else to do things for you. 

As I sit and I think I realize that I am fooling myself. I am not healing, I am hiding. Hiding; even though I face the reality that my daughter is not here with me.

I am missing out on an important part of the grieving process. Visiting the grave. I have been a hand full of times since June. Kills me. Though I know she is not there, only her vessel, I long to go and read her books. Clean her marker diligently, meticulously. Make sure that the fire ant piles are taken care of. Put fresh flowers on her marker monthly. That is our job as her parents. I miss my little girl more than I could have ever imagined possible to miss someone. 

I need this time. When will I get it?

When Dustin is done with the Army there is a possibility of moving further north, Illinois. Then I won’t be able to travel home on her birthday to put new and pretty flowers on her grave.

I saw a post today on fb that said the person wasn’t going to be selfish. I commend her for that. For praying for her friends that need it. But I can’t bring myself to pray, well send good vibes anyway, for many. Not today. There are a select few: Baby Smith, A few special friends with secrets, the Rexrode family. I am wallowing in my own pain today. Missing what should rightfully have been ours.  

Why are my feelings hurt when someone removes me because they are pregnant and can’t handle knowing someone who has lost a child? 

Stillbirth is not contagious. You can’t catch it like the flu. 

That being said I am glad that you removed yourself from my life. I don’t need people like you anyway. Reality is harsh. Get over it. I am glad that y’all had babies and that they were born alive. But of you are going to remove someone because you can’t handle what they are going through maybe you should tell them. It is sad when those people “prayed” for you and then remove you. 

I don’t need your pity prayers. 

This really shouldn’t bother me.  Shouldn’t bother me at all. But reality is; it does.

But even had this not happened the fact it that stillbirth is NOT CONTAGIOUS. It just happens, like a car crash. Most don’t even know it is coming.  

So I have a confession. One I am not proud of. Concerning the day I buried my daughter. Something I need to get off my chest. You may not find it as horrible as I do but it hurts me; still. 

On the day of June 2, 2011 one of the toughest days of our lives we buried our beautiful baby girl. She was in her gown, white with pink roses. A little white hat and one of the bows her Aunt Jenny bought for her. It was early, hot already. Sometimes, I believe that the Lord hates the South; Especially on the day of a funeral. I think I’d much rather it had been raining. 

It was early morning; 9ish. Family was starting to arrive. And I, the woman whom had given birth to a dead baby, was hyper. Bouncing off the walls. Full of energy. Not a tear was shed. There was some anger and the direct smoking party with my sisters and step-mom. I was pissed. I felt that if Dustin and I weren’t showing emotion then no one else should. But only one person showed emotions as the visitation. BTW The casket was closed. 

1130 am.

We loaded up the cars and flowers. Dustin slid our baby into the back of the hearse. We made the short trip to the cemetery. About half a mile. Cars stopped, pulled off to the side, and turned on their four-way blinkers. My heart began to sink. 

1140 am. 

We arrive at the cemetery. Everyone slowly gets out of their cars. Dreading the inevitable. Dustin gets her tiny casket out of the back of the car. And starts to carry it to the grave side. I find it hard to walk. I choke back tears at the sight of my husband carrying his daughter on her final journey. I walk forward. I am asked if I am ok. “Yes.” I reply. I walk some more. I get to my chair; I sit. I shed tears during the extremely emotional service. Not a dry eye in the crowd. Not even my tough ass Asian. Afterwards, I am fine. Right back to the smiling, hyper mess I was before we arrived at the grave side.  

1215 pm

I thank everyone for coming. Long for a cigarette and a hard drink. Shoot the shit with Dustin’s uncle and his wife. Happy, smiling. Like I hadn’t just buried a baby that will never grow up. 

It has been eating at me for some time now that I behaved that way. I should have been more reserved. More calm. More sad. I am ashamed. 

You may tell me that I shouldn’t feel bad about it. I shouldn’t feel this way. I wish I didn’t but I do and I did. I have shared this with only a few people. But if figure it was time to let this go. 

Let’s hop back to the present. 

I just realized that I missed my daughter’s 8 months anniversary. Makes me feel horrible. Is the failure of not recognizing anniversaries healing? I hope so. I feel so terrible. 

And one last

HAPPY 11 MONTHS HONOUR!  

Anonymous asked: yes actually I have. everything is relative. you do not have strong testimony of God yet but when you do you will realise that Dakota has a greater purpose. far greater than our mortal minds can comprehend.

You have? What type of loss was it? Early Miscarriage? Full term Stillbirth? 

Well I haven’t been here in a while. We have reached a milestone…6 months

Thanksgiving day was so so incredibly hard on me. Dakota had been gone for 6 months on that day.

I was hurt.

I felt nothing could go right.

I argued with Dustin, for no apparent reason.

Our turkey, however, turned out great!

I found out the day before that Dakota’s marker was in and that it would be placed the following week.

1,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000,000 pounds was lifted off my shoulders.

I wept.

The following week we went to her grave. Placed flowers in her vase.

They were beautiful.

However I didn’t get to show my true emotions that day the 2nd time I have visited my daughters grave since we had buried her. We had Dustin’s grandmother with us. So no weakness. No weeping. Though I had an uncontrollable urge to.

I held it in.

I recently found out that a friend from my home town had gotten an infection. The infection had passed to her son, Bryson. She was 14.5 weeks pregnant. She had to have her son. She never even go to see him. My heart breaks for her. All the memories come flooding back. My experience my loss all over again. But this time it’s not about me. It’s about her. Her son, Bryson. A beautiful, perfect little boy that she will never get to know. I know her pain. I just hope she realizes that she is not alone in this. It has happened to many. So, so many.

This club. No one wants to be a member.

It has a lifetime membership.

The fee: The ultimate price: Your child’s life.

We don’t willingly pay that fee. God does. He, after all, gets to choose who lives and who doesn’t.

Then you are left with “Why?” and ugly, uncomfortable shoes.

You don’t want these shoes.

I don’t want these shoes.

But I will have to wear them for the rest of my days. Forever.

So don’t tell me I should be “over it” or that I should “move on”. Because I will not get over it and I will not move on. I will continue to grieve my daughter for the Rest. Of. My. Life.

Milestones will be painful.

Monthly anniversaries.

Yearly Anniversaries.

They will all be hard. Pain lessening with time. But hard none the less.

A daughter that will never grow up.
A son that will never play ball.
A daughter that will never have a broken heart.
A son who will never find love.
A daughter who will never be walked down the isle.
A son who will never get to wait on his blushing bride.
A daughter who will never go to prom.
A son who will never go on a date.
A daughter who will never have a family of her own.
A son who will never have a family of his own.
An entire future lost.

I know Dakota and her friends welcomed Baby Bryson with open arms. And I know that She has him by her side and that they are giving the Angel’s a run for their money.

I know I will get to hold you again. I just have to wait. But the wait is the hard part.

Dakota’s marker finally came in.

I feel…

Sick

Happy

Sad

Nauseated  

It has been 6 long months. I can’t believe how fast time has actually passed not that I look back. Thanksgiving day was Dakota’s half birthday in Heaven. I miss her. I need her. Knowing that her marker will be placed in the next few days brings me peace, joy, pain, sickness, sadness. It all seems so final. I have been to her grave 3 times. I wish like hell I could go every single day. But I can not. And that is hard. I know she isn’t there. That it is just her body. That her soul has left. But it would help me tremendously if I could go there every day. Or when I needed. 

I hope people go to see her. It would, honestly, piss me off if they didn’t. I believe I would be disowning some people if I found out otherwise. I know you’re here Dakota. With me. But I NEED you here, really here. Physically. All the pain is coming back with it being 6 months. Christmas Eve/Day is going to be so hard. I have a stocking up for you. Your special ornaments on the tree. But there is a void in our lives that will never be filled. Not ever. Please make sure that all of Mommy’s pregnant friends get to keep their babies. Your Aunt Nichole, Beth, Nicole, April, Ashley, Rene. All of them Please make sure their babies stay. 

They need not know your daddy and I’s pain. Though some of them do with miscarriages and Ashley with Thomas. You two keep an eye on little Noah. You and Cameron need to comfort Cameron’s mommy, she needs it right now.