Friday, October 7, 2011

Misery Needs Company

I don't think anyone could ever possibly understand the excruciating pain of losing a child unless you have gone through it. It's completely indescribable but when you meet someone who has gone through it, they know EXACTLY what you are feeling. That pain is completely universal in this new world that I am grudgingly a part of. Right now, I am sitting here in the lovely home office that Dan put together for me during my eighth month of pregnancy and trying to get some work done. I'm listening to Pandora (which I do constantly) and the song Tears in Heaven by Eric Clapton just came on. I have long known that the song is about his son's tragic death but today, I felt it. I heard his lyrics for the first time. I felt his emotions and could completely, 100% relate. And it's exactly what I am going through. My baby's gone and I am, at least physically, still here trying to figure out what the hell to do with myself.

Please don't take it as I am suicidal or anything. I'm not. I'm sad but I wouldn't even say I'm clinically depressed. I am just trying to survive with a huge part of me missing. And it hurts. It hurts to see life going on around me, just as it was before. It hurts to see other's people babies or pregnant women and thinking why isn't that me? What did I do to deserve this? Why does everyone else have their babies and I lost mine. Am I being punished for my behavior? Am I being punished for not having faith? If I decide to have another baby, is this all going to happen again because it's what I deserve? It sucks really badly because I have a 4 week old niece that I can't bear to meet yet. It hurts way too bad and I feel so guilty about it. But I can't control it right now. It's funny. Sometimes, I tell myself that I'm not really going through this. This was all something that happened to someone else and I'm going to get my normal life back tomorrow. But then I wake up and everything is still the same. It sucks.

Today, I met with another woman in my area that is a friend of a friend who also recently lost her baby. It was both and wonderful and terrible to talk to her. Wonderful because she was great. We talked, we laughed, we cried. We got each other. Terrible because I had to meet an amazing person such as herself because we have both lost babies. That's how this whole thing has been. I've met an incredible amount of amazing people and made some amazing friends but all because I lost my daughter. It's so fucked up.

I also got the comment today that I have been dreading the most and that has caused me to become a bit agoraphobic. The coffee shop that we met at today was one that I would go to quite frequently while I was pregnant. I didn't even consider that and walked in and ordered my drink. (I would like to say that it was tea or even coffee but I ordered a beer.) The girl said, "Oh my gosh, the last time I saw you, you were so pregnant. How's the baby?" I just paused, dumbfounded. I mean, what do I say? She wasn't trying to be mean. She honestly had no idea and I had no idea how to answer without a) bursting into tears or b) sounding like a bitch.  I just said I had a little girl and we spent 7 weeks with her in the NICU but she ended up passing away 3 weeks ago. And then I apologized to her because the look on her face was so sad and surprised. And then I burst into tears and walked away. I am just terrified at how many times I am going to have to repeat this scenario.


  1. I am so sorry you are going thru this! I am still here, still reading, still mourning a baby I never knew. You are amazing and strong! How is your son doing? Marianne, July Birth Board

  2. That part, as much as you can't see it now, will start to get a bit easier. When someone asks how the baby is in the beginning and then later when they ask how many children you have. My husband now will talk about his son when people ask how many children he has. He has 2...his son and our daughter. He simply says his son passed when he was 2 months old due to a heart defect. When people say "Oh! I didn't know, I am SO sorry." He now tells them, "Don't apologize. I don't mind talking about him. It's a way to continue to keep his memory alive."

    It wasn't always like that. Especially in the beginning. Unfortunately it will continue for you but the only thing I can say...I know you already know (because you're one hell of a smart cookie)...the pain will ease. It will never go away, you will always feel that emptiness but it will ease and you will heal. Slowly but surely, you will heal. Why?

    Because like Naya, you are one hell of a strong human being. She got her strength from you, Jamie.

    Take one day at a time. Continue to talk to those who have gone through this because you're right, speaking to someone who has never had to experience this tragedy just won't understand on a level that you need to express.

    Writing this blog is helping you, rather you see it or not. Know that you have so many pulling for you, sending positive thoughts your way. We're here for you!

  3. I'm not sure how to start, but I have been reading your posts (on babycenter) since you first had your Naya. When I saw the picture of her all I could think about was how she looks just like my first daughter, who we almost lost in labor. Maybe that is why I kept following the story, maybe it is because you seem like such a normal person and that this could have happened to any of us. Maybe it is because I lost a baby in the 2nd trimester and it was really hard, yet making it to the finish line and losing her would have been even harder.
    I just want you to know that you and Naya have touched my life. I think about both of you often and I wish over and over again that there would have been a different outcome.
    Stay strong and know that it will get better, slowly. But Naya will always be with you because your memories will keep her with you. I feel like life is all about making an impact on other people, and both of you have made an impact in my life.


  4. Naya has changed my life and I never met her. It's something that people go through a lifetime without achieving. She is an angel. She taught me not to take things for granted and be thankful for every single thing, no matter how small. I almost lost my niece when she was 2 months old due to leukemia. She lived in the hospital for almost a year and a half, but thankfully the chemotherapy, radiation and bone marrow worked out but we were always prepared for the worst. I only have a minor glimpse into your pain and it's almost unbearable. Somehow we manage to be strong and keep on going.
    I love little Naya and check every day for updates on you, your husband and your son. Stay strong <3

  5. Jamie, I just found your blog here after following your link from babycenter. I don't know what to say - I am sitting at work crying my eyes out for you. I have a 2.5 year old, 18 month old, and a 6 month old. You have heard this a million times I'm sure... but I have no idea how you are being so strong. I think I would hole up in a corner and never come out. You probably don't feel like it, but just in reading your entries here, you seem amazing. Naya would be proud of you, I'm sure of it.

    I am also not religious, never have been. And I also have my own specific reasons for this, like you. I lost both my parents in 2003... since then I realized, my only faith is myself. My job now is to make them proud of me.

    Naya was lucky to have you as her mommy, even for that short period of time she was physically with you.

    Some words that I hope comfort you a little, or at least put a smile on your face......

    An Angel in the book of life wrote down my baby's birth. And whispered as she closed the book "too beautiful for earth"

    Mommy, if I go while you’re still here, know that I do live on, vibrating to a different measure behind a thin veil you cannot see through. You will not see me, but please believe in me. I wait the time when we can soar again, both aware of each other. Until then, live your life to its fullest, and when you need me, just whisper my name, and I will be there.

  6. I have been following your blog since you started it and today my heart just aches as its been a month since your sweet Naya grew her wings. I have sat a cried a few times today. I hope you and your family are doing well today.

    As I sat here and write this, I noticed a sweet hummingbird is sitting on my balcony rail. I thought instantly of Naya. She is making her rounds to those who are remembering her today.

    Thank you for sharing your sweet hummingbird with us.

    ~Heather, a July BBC member