Saturday, January 10, 2009

I've been buttering you all up...

did you notice?

See, I've posted funny things this week because I knew what this weekend was going to bring. I am trying to stay positive and be happy, but it isn't working as well as I had hoped.

Today is the last day that I will be able to say "A year ago I was pregnant with Blue." Really, I can't even say that. Yesterday was the last day that I was really pregnant with Blue. Today, a year ago, the doctors told us that his heart had stopped beating. And ours did too.

I hold a lot of anger towards the whole thing. I wish they had explained things better. I wish they had let me make a more informed choice. What would I have done different? I'm not 100% sure. Jenn and I would have had a longer conversation about how Blue would have come into the world. I am 100% sure I would have had him cremated. I could have him here with us.

Saved in my files on my work computer is an 18 page letter that I have written to the hospital. 18 pages of how they should handle things in the future. 18 pages of anger, tears, and lessons on how to better communicate. Not only did we lose our son that day, we lost our chance to keep him forever. I had no idea what I was signing up for in "choosing" the D&E. We will never know what his precious face looks like. We will never be able to say we held his hand. Kissed our sons toes. I feel very cheated, not only by his death, but the way it all was handled. I don't ever want to see Dr. A again.

The fact that five days later Jenn had surgery in the same hospital and was treated with more care and sympathy than I was also royally pisses me off. I wasn't even sent home with painkillers. No one warned me about the contractions. No one warned me that my breasts would leak milk. Milk that our son would ever be able to taste. Milk that had no chance of sustaining Blue.

There isn't a hour that goes by that I don't relive the entire thing, more the sounds, the voices. Hearing my doctor not say the words. Hearing myself scream. Scream so loud it still echos through my head. Calling my parents and hearing my dad's pain. Hearing Elissa not believe me. Hearing Lyz talk with a voice that told me she knew before I got to tell her. Hearing Jenn cry next to me in bed, holding my belly and sobbing.

It really is the sounds that haunt me. The nightmares have gone away for the most part. But I don't believe the haunting sounds will ever leave.

Tomorrow we will have a cake. Actually we will have two. One to celebrate Blue's first birthday. One to celebrate our 6th anniversary. Six years ago as I walked down the aisle to meet Jenn, the mother of our future children, I had no idea that five years later we would be mourning the death of our child.

We hurt so much. The letter will probably never be sent. I've never even let Jenn read the contents. I think I've written it more for me. I think that at some point I will print it out and burn it.

Maybe I'll save those ashes. At least we will always have Blue in our hearts.

14 comments:

jenn said...

baby, I love you so much!!!! I will always be here for you!!! We have been through a year of crap. I truly believe that this year will be better and that we will be able to hold our next child in our arms and watch he/she grow up to be one awesome person that will make such a difference in the world.

Rachel said...

Your post could have been written for me. It's been almost 4 years since I lost Christian, 5 since I lost Gabriel, and 9 since I lost the little one I didn't even know I was pregnant with yet. I still can smell the exhaust fumes from the ambulance. I still see Christian's perfect liitle face, his 10 fingers & toes.
Like you, I didn't get to see my other babies. I always wonder about the people they would have been.
I am so sorry for your loss, and just wanted to know that you're not alone, I understand the anger, sadness and everything else that goes along with it.

Jen said...

There really isn't much to say that is completely appropriate in this case...but I can not imagine the pain you feel every day from this. I am truely sorry for your loss, your pain, your heartache.

Anonymous said...

I will never forget the moment when I knew... I remember just staring at my cell phone and seeing the missed call and it was the hospital's extension. I wanted so badly to talk to you yet in another sense wished I didn't have to. I didn't want to hear the words. I was crying and begging Chris to let it be something else, a club foot, cleft lip anything else. As I sat there holding my phone waiting for the return call those 5 minutes were the longest and shortest of my life. Chris kept on saying I am sure Blue is fine but I knew... And of all days to be so far away from you, my heart ached like never before to be there next to you. Blue turns 1 tomorrow. What an amazing little boy he is, to have influenced and affected so many people in such a short time.
Lyz

Teaberry said...

Thinking of you both....

2009 will be a very good year.

Mrs. Spit said...

You don't have to feel good for us. That's not what we are about. We're here to listen. Well cheer 6 years of marriage, and we'll grieve with you and Jenn for Blue. We'll wish there was a baby with you.

We'll sit under the table with you and drink too much and eat cake.

And when you sing to blue tomorrow, our voices will be with yours.

Mr. and Mrs. Spit.

Aunt Becky said...

I'm here from L and F to give you a big, fat, wet hug. I'm so sorry for the loss of your sweet babies, and I'm so sorry that the hospital messed up so royally.

*hugs*

Anonymous said...

congrats on the happy anniversary.

and big, big, big hugs to you the tragic anniversary. your post brought tears to my eyes. i am so sorry you are having to recall these awful memories, instead of happily holding your little boy.

i will be remembering blue with you tomorrow.

sending love,
s

Anonymous said...

I don;t have much to say other than that Blue was, and is very lucky to have you and Jenn as his mommies. You are incredibly strong... I hope that in 2009 your second child will join your family. I am thinking of you guys...

IrishNYC said...

I don't even know what to say Heidi. I hope this year is nothing but joyous for you.

Anonymous said...

I'm so sorry. Especially that the treatment you suffered at the hands of the hospital have made such an unspeakably awful thing so much worse. Much love and light to you and Jenn, missing your little boy Blue.

tbean said...

I am so sorry for all that you went through. You are strong and brave and I admire that so much. hugs.

Anonymous said...

I heart you, Heidi.

I wish you had never been through any of this. IT's just not fair.

xxxoo
kirsten

Jamie said...

My heart aches for you . . .

You are in my thoughts and prayers