MARCH OF DIMES | MARCH FOR BABIES | NACERSANO

Somewhere Over the Rainbow

IT HURTS SO BAD

As I sit here in the midst of a major melt-down, the only thing I can think of to do to help me feel better is to write about it. I've had many melt-downs of various degrees over the last 8 weeks since we found out that there was a problem with Marco. Believe it or not though, I barely cried on the day that Marco was born and passed. It didn't really hit me until the next day. I think my "protective" mode was up and I was just doing what I needed to do to get through the most difficult day of my life. I've been home now for 1 week. The visits have been nice as well as the flowers and the food, but the emptiness is there and ever so present right now. I sit here with his "memory box" given to us by the hospital. It is filled with things that he wore (a little blue hat with "baby boy" written on it and a little gown that we put him in for a brief time after the bath we gave him) and some that he didn't wear, but would have if he would have lived longer (an extra hat and blanket). Then there are his perfect, tiny footprints set in some sort of clay- measuring all of maybe 1 1/4 inches long. His baptismal certificate is also in there along with his and my hospital bracelets. We plan on getting a bigger box with him name engraved on it that we can put the rest of his things in with the memory box such as all the cards we've received and all of the sonogram pictures. Which leads me to the actual pictures that we have of him during his short time here that the people in the NICU took. There are pictures of us with him while he was alive on the CPAP as well as some very sweet pictures taken after he passed. He looks like a little angel. I just put all of those in a small "Baby's R Us" picture album given to us as a free gift for registering there. These are certainly not the pictures that I ever thought would be placed in this album, but it was given to us for him and therefore his pictures should go in there - whatever the pictures may be. It's only been 1 1/2 weeks since that day, and everything is still raw. It hurts every time I see a pregnant woman or a little baby whether if it's in person or on TV. I know it will get better - but right now it doesn't feel like it will. It hurts so bad. I don't know how people who have lost a baby after more than 1 day of living (whether it's one week or 2 months) deal with it - as it hurts so bad after only knowing Marco for a few hours. This is a beautiful poem by Mary Frye that a friend of mine put in the sympathy card she gave me: Do not stand at my grave and weep. I am not there. I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am the diamond glintz on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle automn rain. When you awake in the morning's hush, I am the soft, uplifting rush Of quiet birds in cirling flight. I am the soft star that shines at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die. -Mary Frye

  • I am so sorry that you are now a member of this club that none of asked to be a part of.  I know the pain you are feeling all too well.  Unfortunately many of us do.  I wish I had the magic words to make it all better.  I wish I could write different endings to this chapter(s) of our stories, but I cannot.  What I can tell you a year later is you somehow will start to learn to live with pain.  It never fully goes away, its always there. I call it my lightbulb.  Sometime its dim, still there but far away....those are my good days.  Then there are days when the light is so bright it commands my full attention...and those would be my bad days.  But no matter the day good or bad, the lightbulb is always on.

    I am sending you peace underneath all of your grief.

    Take good care,

    yolonda

  • Oh, I'm so sorry....I am just catching up with your blog to find out about your loss.  I know the heartache and wish that I had to words to make it all better.  The aches, pains, and emptiness are very real and are so hard to deal with.  Just remember that no matter how overwelmed you feel, you're only required to take one breath at a time.

    Tracy

  • Strength in pain

    Libby and Bruno,  

    We can not imagine the pain of loosing your little prince. No hugs, no words, no act can ever be enough to take that hurt away. The only thing that will help is time and the assurance that there are so many people in this world that are here for you and love you. Find strength in your pain through prayer and with the thought that Marquito did not have a life full of pain and suffering.  

    We love you both and are here for you.  

    Love Jason and Caro

  • Im soo sorry for your pain.  Losing a child is the worst pain you can feel as a mother.  I lost my daughter after she was born 15 weeks premature.  I know right now you feel lost.  Know you are not alone!  Know that you can come to SHARE on your Good days and bad and find comfort here!  SHARE was my life line when my daughter passed!  Im always here is you need to chat

    -Samantha

  • I just got caught up on your blog. I am so sorry for what you have been through. No one should have to go through that. I am glad you found Share and I hope you find it as helpful as I have.

    Best Wishes,

    Kristina

  • Libby, I know it's hard, but please remember, your Marco is in the best place possible, the hallow of God's hand.  I had alot of the same feelings as you during this time.  I was angry, I couldn't look at pregnant women without jealousy and anger.  Just about everthing you typed in your blog was what happened with my son.  Know I will be praying for you and your husband to get through this the best you can.  

    Love and light-  Liz

  • You knew Marco for so much longer than those few hours.  I think that it what makes the ache so excruciating.  From the time we see those little pink lines we know our little ones.  We create dreams and plans of our lives together.  To have it taken away truly takes a lifetime to grieve.

    I remember having no idea of how I would get up each morning.. sometimes I still find it difficult like putting one foot out of the bed is running a marathon.  On those days I try to think what I want my daughter's legacy to be.  Surely she wasn't put in my life to ruin it.  She was put in my life to bring me joy, just as if she had survived.  So I find when I smile, she smiles and I feel close to her.

    Thank you for sharing such a beautiful poem.

    Lauren

  • Im sorry...i know your pain too well and your feelings of anger and jealousy..its not fair..no mum should have to live without their child...i lost my boy january 2oth 2oo9 at 32 weeks...i long for my boy and our future that should have been...you are not alone... my thoughts are with you and your lil angel...hugs..chantelle..

  • Thank you for sharing the poem, it's beautiful and it's Marco telling you he's ok and happy. You are so early in your journey, the pain is till so raw. Marco was with you for all those months, not only the hours you spent with him out of your body.

    I'm glad you managed to get some pictures and momentos of Marco, I know you will treasure them as I treasure the posessions of my baby Ayden.  

    Wishing you peace and comfort,

    Hugs.

    Jo

  • There were days when the knowledge the pain would lessen was the only thing that got me through.  Hold on to that lifeline.  

    I wish there was so much more I could do.  For now, know that you do not walk this path alone.  We are here to lift you up on your bad days and smile with you on your good days.

    Hugs,

    Mary

  • I know it's been almost a month since your last post but I'm still thinking about you!  I hope things have gotten even just a tiney bit easier on you and your family.  

    Lots and lots of hugs,

    Lauren

  • It took a while for it to finally hit me as well.  And I'm so thankful for the things the hospital gave me.  I wasn't at first, but I am now.