So many mothers have little things they remember about their children. I am no different, but my "little things" are different. I got to see my Jacob once a week from 14 weeks pregnant until he was born. I got to see him kick, and move his arms. I go to see him make amazing strides by opening his mouth and swallowing. I got to see hiccups and his little body move up and down as he was practicing breathing.
One of my favorite things was hearing his heartbeat. It didn't take long for me to know who was who. Juliet was always a little faster and never the same. Her heart would be anywhere from 170-180, but never the same as it was the week before. Jacob's was steady. Every week, his little heart rate was 162 beats per minute. No matter what we did, it was always 162. I quickly learned the sound of it, and it is one sound that I can still hear in my head. I feel like it's my equivalent to my child's voice. I never got to hear Jacob cry, or talk. God gave me this instead. God gave me his heartbeat to carry with me throughout my life as a reminder of him and a memory to hold onto. I often find myself tapping my feet to the beat of my son's heart.
The other "reminder" of him, was feeling him move. Every morning at about 6:45am, Jacob would wake me up by poking me on my left lower side. It was as if he was there to say, "Hey Mommy, I'm still here and growing." Every day from the first day I felt him, he never failed to wake me up. I still get "ghoast kicks" every once in a while. I know it's not him, but I love them all the same.
I don't get a lot of memories of Jacob, so I cling so tightly to the ones I do have. I didn't get his laughter, or his "mommy I love you". I didn't get his smiles or his hugs. But I got things all the same. I got to know my son as he was. I got to know Jacob the way God wanted me to know him. God pointed out things that I would never remember otherwise. He showed me things that I would need later on, to point me in the direction God was taking me. And all of those things were before Jacob was born. The Jacob I knew was not the one outside my womb; it was the Jacob that I carried for 179 days inside me.
Tuesday, February 25, 2014
Sunday, February 23, 2014
Your Child is NOT an Angel!
I get it, everyone loves to call that sweet precious baby and "angel", especially if they are a well-behaved child. But the reality is, your child is not an angel. And you should be thankful they are not an angel. I never realized how much a term can mean until my son died. I never thought for a second about a child being an "angel". It just didn't matter to me, because I was blissful ignorant to the fact that there are some mothers whose children are actually angels, or at least with them. I get it, people love calling babies angels. There is an innocents about babies that people cannot help but link to the Holy Hosts. But I just ask that before you talk about your "angel" think of what it could do to a mother who has a true angel.
I was talking with another mother who I didn't know very well. She was going on and on about her "angel". The way she spoke, I honestly thought her child had passed away. And boy was she appalled when I said it was so nice to hear another grieving parent talk about her child so much. She actually got offended that I would consider even saying something like that. How dare I think such a horrid and disgusting thought! Needless to say, I never informed her that I actually had an angel watching me from Heaven. I came home and cried for a few hours straight.
I don't blame her for what she calls her child, but I am upset that so many people are uninformed about common sayings and names given to children who have passed away. This is not something new. Children have been dying every day since the beginning of creation! How can we, as a nation, be so shut off from something that happens all around us every day?! Sure, people think it won't happen to them, but that doesn't mean its not happening all around them every day in their community. In the 119 days we spent in the NICU with my daughter, there were 38 children, not including Jacob, that came into the NICU and never went home. (And those are just ones that I saw. I can almost guarantee there where more.) There were another 2 that passed away after going home, and numerous others that never made it to the NICU at all. And this was just one hospital. One hospital in one town, in one state, in one nation. And the US is not the only one that gets hit by this. In fact, we have one of lowest number of infant deaths in the world.
So why do we shy away from these topics. Why was what I said such an insult? Why is talking about children that have passed a "gross", "hideous", "inappropriate" thing? I have never shared a picture of my son. I only have one while he was alive. The rest were taken after he was removed from life support and was dying in my arms. I've been asked many times why I never shared these pictures. I have seen women share their own pictures on social media, and been told to remove it due to it being "grotesque" and "inappropriate". There is NOTHING about my son that is grotesque or inappropriate. He was a living, breathing human being that I loved as much as every other child I have ever carried. I will not share a picture of him, just to be told to remove it because someone cannot handle it. Cannot handle it?! I had to sit and watch him die in my arms, you can "handle" looking at a single picture of him.
I get it. No one fights for a cause until it affects them. But that is too late. If I could have fought for this cause long before I lost my son, I would be in a different place. In fact, I may have never lost Jacob at all. But I never knew it was an issue. I never knew my water could break at just 12 weeks pregnant. And it is now my goal to change that. If I can help just one mother keep her baby alive by sharing my story until I am blue in the face then I have made a difference. Maybe not for everyone, but for one mother to not have to say goodbye to her child and sign that death certificate: It will be worth it.
I was talking with another mother who I didn't know very well. She was going on and on about her "angel". The way she spoke, I honestly thought her child had passed away. And boy was she appalled when I said it was so nice to hear another grieving parent talk about her child so much. She actually got offended that I would consider even saying something like that. How dare I think such a horrid and disgusting thought! Needless to say, I never informed her that I actually had an angel watching me from Heaven. I came home and cried for a few hours straight.
I don't blame her for what she calls her child, but I am upset that so many people are uninformed about common sayings and names given to children who have passed away. This is not something new. Children have been dying every day since the beginning of creation! How can we, as a nation, be so shut off from something that happens all around us every day?! Sure, people think it won't happen to them, but that doesn't mean its not happening all around them every day in their community. In the 119 days we spent in the NICU with my daughter, there were 38 children, not including Jacob, that came into the NICU and never went home. (And those are just ones that I saw. I can almost guarantee there where more.) There were another 2 that passed away after going home, and numerous others that never made it to the NICU at all. And this was just one hospital. One hospital in one town, in one state, in one nation. And the US is not the only one that gets hit by this. In fact, we have one of lowest number of infant deaths in the world.
So why do we shy away from these topics. Why was what I said such an insult? Why is talking about children that have passed a "gross", "hideous", "inappropriate" thing? I have never shared a picture of my son. I only have one while he was alive. The rest were taken after he was removed from life support and was dying in my arms. I've been asked many times why I never shared these pictures. I have seen women share their own pictures on social media, and been told to remove it due to it being "grotesque" and "inappropriate". There is NOTHING about my son that is grotesque or inappropriate. He was a living, breathing human being that I loved as much as every other child I have ever carried. I will not share a picture of him, just to be told to remove it because someone cannot handle it. Cannot handle it?! I had to sit and watch him die in my arms, you can "handle" looking at a single picture of him.
I get it. No one fights for a cause until it affects them. But that is too late. If I could have fought for this cause long before I lost my son, I would be in a different place. In fact, I may have never lost Jacob at all. But I never knew it was an issue. I never knew my water could break at just 12 weeks pregnant. And it is now my goal to change that. If I can help just one mother keep her baby alive by sharing my story until I am blue in the face then I have made a difference. Maybe not for everyone, but for one mother to not have to say goodbye to her child and sign that death certificate: It will be worth it.
Thursday, February 20, 2014
The "Not so Dark" Side
I will never say there is a good/bright/happy side to losing a child. It is just a fact that being an angel mommy is incredibly painful. But, if we chose to only focus on the bad, we will never improve ourselves or those around us. I have to, for my own sanity and for the health of my family, look at the "bright" side of things every once in a while.
We are in the process of building a house on 7 acres of land up the road from where we live now. We spend most of this past weekend outside playing and relaxing the the glory of God's creations.
My oldest son is 7 years old, and he is well aware of Jacob. He also knows that butterflies make me happy and remind me him. While "exploring", we came across a butterfly resting on a tree. Luke pointed it out and said it reminded him of Jacob. We spent the rest of our "exploration" talking about how much Jacob would have liked the land and the trees. I think sometime we expect things like this to go right over the heads of children, but they understand and grasp so much of what is going on around them.
Luke asked me if I thought God would ever give Jacob back to us. I told him I didn't know, but I would love to have Jacob be given to me again. Luke told me something that I will never forget, because he had said it to me once before.
When my water broke and we told Luke that his baby brother would probably die, he told me to "Just Believe Mom, that what the Bible says to do, and if we really believe, and if it is something we ask God for, He will give it to us because He loves us."
He said this to me again, after I told him I "hope" God would do that. He then went to tell me we don't need to "hope" we just need to trust. From the mouth of a 7 year old. Wow. I love this kid! His insight is so wonderful and so trusting.
One of my biggest fears of Jacob dying was how it would affect my son and his faith. He saw us pray, and beg God to let us keep Jacob. And he saw God not answer those prayers with a Yes. I didn't want God's answer of no to keep my son from trusting Him. But it didn't. It made Luke's faith so much stronger and one that I pray nothing will be able to shake. Watching Luke grow in what he believes is incredible and very humbling. I hope I can one say trust God like Luke does. Without question, without hesitation, but with pure trust.
And that's a "not so dark" side I can smile about.
We are in the process of building a house on 7 acres of land up the road from where we live now. We spend most of this past weekend outside playing and relaxing the the glory of God's creations.
My oldest son is 7 years old, and he is well aware of Jacob. He also knows that butterflies make me happy and remind me him. While "exploring", we came across a butterfly resting on a tree. Luke pointed it out and said it reminded him of Jacob. We spent the rest of our "exploration" talking about how much Jacob would have liked the land and the trees. I think sometime we expect things like this to go right over the heads of children, but they understand and grasp so much of what is going on around them.
Luke asked me if I thought God would ever give Jacob back to us. I told him I didn't know, but I would love to have Jacob be given to me again. Luke told me something that I will never forget, because he had said it to me once before.
When my water broke and we told Luke that his baby brother would probably die, he told me to "Just Believe Mom, that what the Bible says to do, and if we really believe, and if it is something we ask God for, He will give it to us because He loves us."
He said this to me again, after I told him I "hope" God would do that. He then went to tell me we don't need to "hope" we just need to trust. From the mouth of a 7 year old. Wow. I love this kid! His insight is so wonderful and so trusting.
One of my biggest fears of Jacob dying was how it would affect my son and his faith. He saw us pray, and beg God to let us keep Jacob. And he saw God not answer those prayers with a Yes. I didn't want God's answer of no to keep my son from trusting Him. But it didn't. It made Luke's faith so much stronger and one that I pray nothing will be able to shake. Watching Luke grow in what he believes is incredible and very humbling. I hope I can one say trust God like Luke does. Without question, without hesitation, but with pure trust.
And that's a "not so dark" side I can smile about.
Friday, February 14, 2014
Valentines Day
Today sucks. Everyone is off doing sweet things with their babies. Not only can I NOT spend the day with my son, this is also the day he was suppose to be born. February 14th, 2013 was my due date. I know I probably wouldn't have given birth on this day, but that is what is suppose to be. Instead, it is the day I base Juliet's development on, and the day that could have held so many different "what ifs". Its the day that SHOULD HAVE BEEN their birthday. Instead, its a day that I watch every other parent spend with their "little Valentine" making sweet snacks, crafts and the like, knowing I will never get to do that with my son. And yes I have other living children, and yes I love them and their little crafts and snacks, but I am still missing one. And that sucks. Trust me, there is something worse than not having a "Valentine"; its having a Valentine you cannot be with on Valentine's Day. So I'll send up a Valentine Balloon later today, and hope Jacob gets it. Jacob, you will always be "my little Valentine".
Wednesday, February 5, 2014
My pain will ALWAYS be the Worst
I was talking with a good friend a few months ago when the subject went to something that actually shocked me. She asked me why I was not open to going to a support group of other mothers who lost children.
My answer: Because no one has it as bad as me.
Now I know some of you might get offended by this, and frankly I was shocked by it as well. I know that losing a child is unbearably painful. I have lost 5 children to miscarriages, and every one of those hurt. But for my pain right now, nothing compares. No miscarriage could be as bad. No child loss could be as bad because MY situation was the worst one there was. At this point, my friend mentioned a mutual friend we knew who lost her young child to cancer a few years ago. And another whose son passed away at 19 years old. And I had no doubt in my head, that MY situation was worse than those. Now please realize, I don't say this to be cold hearted, but that is how I felt afterward. Here I was, in a situation where the only people who understand it, are those who have walked through it, and I was unable to see that others pain could be as bad as mine.
So after this, the conversation kept going through my mind over and over again. I needed to figure out why I felt this way and what has made me such a cold, bitter person.
Laying in bed a few nights later I had a dream. In my dream, I was running past children dying all over the place. These were kids I knew, some of them have passed away, and some of them haven't. But all I was worried about was my son. I could see him, away from me, and my only goal was to reach him and save HIM. It wasn't about the other children. It was about my son, because as a mother, it is my job to protect my children first. Don't get me wrong, there were tears running down my face as I passed these kids I knew, but my only focus was on my son.
I woke from this dream screaming, with tears all over my face, and sweat all over me. But it made it clear to me as to why I felt the way I did.
It was MY pain I felt.
I can look at another mother, and see the pain is there, but I don't have the pain she has from her child passing away. I can only see the pain from an outside perspective. I can see what it is from someone how knew that child as a friend, not as my own. And even though I know the pain of it being my child. I cannot connect that pain to another child. I think that is a way for me to protect myself. If I could put the pain I felt when Jacob died, into every situation of a child dying, I would no longer be alive. I could not function in that amount of intense grief.
Part of me is ashamed of the way I feel, but another part of me is proud of it. My son meant so much to me, there is nothing that will be as painful as that. Now maybe someone might argue with me on this. I'm am sure there are situations where there is more pain than just the death of a child at play. But for me, the worst pain I will feel, is the one that I actually feel first hand. When Jacob died, he took a part of my heart with him, and it will never come back. I will always miss a part of my life because he is gone. And that is a pain that no one will understand. They might understand the pain of THEIR child, but there are only two of us who understand the pain of MY child. And that's ok with me. Its a bittersweet reality. It is something that my husband and I share together, that no one will understand. And I am ok with that..
My answer: Because no one has it as bad as me.
Now I know some of you might get offended by this, and frankly I was shocked by it as well. I know that losing a child is unbearably painful. I have lost 5 children to miscarriages, and every one of those hurt. But for my pain right now, nothing compares. No miscarriage could be as bad. No child loss could be as bad because MY situation was the worst one there was. At this point, my friend mentioned a mutual friend we knew who lost her young child to cancer a few years ago. And another whose son passed away at 19 years old. And I had no doubt in my head, that MY situation was worse than those. Now please realize, I don't say this to be cold hearted, but that is how I felt afterward. Here I was, in a situation where the only people who understand it, are those who have walked through it, and I was unable to see that others pain could be as bad as mine.
So after this, the conversation kept going through my mind over and over again. I needed to figure out why I felt this way and what has made me such a cold, bitter person.
Laying in bed a few nights later I had a dream. In my dream, I was running past children dying all over the place. These were kids I knew, some of them have passed away, and some of them haven't. But all I was worried about was my son. I could see him, away from me, and my only goal was to reach him and save HIM. It wasn't about the other children. It was about my son, because as a mother, it is my job to protect my children first. Don't get me wrong, there were tears running down my face as I passed these kids I knew, but my only focus was on my son.
I woke from this dream screaming, with tears all over my face, and sweat all over me. But it made it clear to me as to why I felt the way I did.
It was MY pain I felt.
I can look at another mother, and see the pain is there, but I don't have the pain she has from her child passing away. I can only see the pain from an outside perspective. I can see what it is from someone how knew that child as a friend, not as my own. And even though I know the pain of it being my child. I cannot connect that pain to another child. I think that is a way for me to protect myself. If I could put the pain I felt when Jacob died, into every situation of a child dying, I would no longer be alive. I could not function in that amount of intense grief.
Part of me is ashamed of the way I feel, but another part of me is proud of it. My son meant so much to me, there is nothing that will be as painful as that. Now maybe someone might argue with me on this. I'm am sure there are situations where there is more pain than just the death of a child at play. But for me, the worst pain I will feel, is the one that I actually feel first hand. When Jacob died, he took a part of my heart with him, and it will never come back. I will always miss a part of my life because he is gone. And that is a pain that no one will understand. They might understand the pain of THEIR child, but there are only two of us who understand the pain of MY child. And that's ok with me. Its a bittersweet reality. It is something that my husband and I share together, that no one will understand. And I am ok with that..
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