Beautiful Angel
I can no longer hold
You're as close to my heart as ever.
Not a day will go by
That I don't miss you
Long for you
Or wish things had been
Different.
But you are in a better place
Where no harm can ever
Touch you.
No one will ever make you cry
Or break your tiny heart.
My precious little one,
I love you.

I'll Be There

This has got to be the single most important poem I've ever come across. It was my mantra after losing Alexa, and I'm glad I had it tucked away in an email to her father. I can't seem to find it anymore in the search engines. I'm not really a believer in the Christian faith, as I was raised in it, but this one still tugs at my heartstrings.

Daddy, please don't look so sad,
Mama please don't cry
Cause I am in the arms of Jesus
And He sings me lullabies.
Please, try not to question God,
Don't think He is unkind
Don't think He sent me to you,
And then He changed His mind.
You see, I am a special child,
And I'm needed up above
I'm the special gift you gave Him,
The product of your love.
I'll always be there with you
And watch the sky at night,
Find the brightest star that's gleaming,
That's my halo's brilliant light.
You'll see me in the morning frost,
That mists your windowpane,
That's me in the summer showers,
I'll be dancing in the rain.
When you feel a little breeze,
From a gentle wind that blows
That's me, I'll be there,
Planting a kiss on your nose.
When you see a child playing,
And your heart feels a tug,
That's me, I'll be there,
Giving your heart a hug.
So Daddy, please don't look so sad,
Mama don't you cry.
I'm in the arms of Jesus and He sings me lullabies.

Today is today, but yesterday is still here

Everyone's miscarriage experience is different. We all find out, and experience it different.
Some get to feel their baby kick, some get to see one good sonogram before they get the bad news, some get to carry them for several months. None of these scenarios is easy. They all end in pain.
For me, with my first, I suspected I was pregnant. I didn't know for sure. When I finally got to take an EPT, it came out negative. Three negative tests later, I was convinced I was losing my mind. Finally, I was forced to go to the doctor for a blood test. The blood test was negative. So, I took that to be the end of the speculation. Every article online that I read, said the blood test was fool-proof. If I was pregnant, it would for sure come out positive. That was the end of February 2008.
By the first of April, I had been bleeding for days, and bleeding really heavy. Almost hemorraging, it felt like. I couldn't barely get out of bed the pain in my abdomen was so bad.
I went to the ER one state away so that my family wouldn't find out. When I could finally be seen, the doctor suggested a D&C. I was shocked. I thought that I wasn't pregnant. Dr. Knight informed me that I had developed an infection from the fetus that wouldn't pass from my body on its own.
They deduced my baby had "expired" a week before, and my body hadn't wanted to let go. That makes sense. The next several hours went by in a blur. I laid there, with no drugs, listening as they surgically removed my baby from me. That sound stays with me to this day.
With my second, here just recently, I suspected I was miscarrying. The bleeding lasted for almost a month, and the pain was unbearable. But with everything that was going on, I put off seeing a doctor. I was hoping I was wrong. The first week of October, I finally went to the doctor, one I trusted very much, to give me the answer I needed. I had a sonogram. There was something there, but no movement. No heartbeat. They took the bloodwork, and promised to get back to me the next week.
I tried to deaden myself to the possibility that I had been pregnant, and once again, my body had rebeled. I couldn't take another miscarriage. But a month later, when I had heard nothing from Dr. Jacobs, I called the office to inquire of my results. The pregnancy test had been positive. My HcG levels had been declining, as they had with Alexa, and eventhough there had been no heartbeat with the first sonogram, I was advised to get another blood test done.
That test came out negative. My two doctors conversed over my records, and it was concluded that I had miscarried and successfully passed the baby this time. I was devastated. My life was falling apart.
Now, a month after the news, I am trying my hardest to use my grief in a positive sense. I want to help other women. I don't want to be that zombie I was after my first. I want to honor my Angels by helping others cope with their loss and remembrance.

Miscarriage: Women Sharing From the Heart

After miscarrying Alexa in March of 2008, I withdrew into myself. I didn't talk to anyone, and when I did, I was so angry that eventually no one wanted to be around me. Not that I blame them, even now. Thankfully, I had a few good friends who stuck by me, and did what they could to just be there even when I didn't want them to be.
Of course, not even all their love was able to keep me out of that deep dark hole I'd begun to fall into. I had started cutting, and drinking heavily on a regular basis. This was not long after I moved to Alabama from Louisiana. I was on my own for the first time.
The point to this post is this, I wish I would have had someone who truly understood my pain from the start.
I found this book on Amazon, and tracked it down at BAM! It's written by two professional women, who not only have medical degrees to help people, they both have experienced miscarriages. They know from a personal level the pain women in this situation go through. Marie Allen & Shelly Marks interviewed over 100 women, and even some men, to get the different feelings or takes on their journeys through this pain.
Miscarriage: Women Sharing From the Heart was the turning point for me. I started to feel understood. Even today, I still reread through it. It has helped me get prospective after losing Clay in October. I know that my babies are in a better place, and in better situations than they ever would've been here. But missing them will never be a thing of the past.

That Was A River

It used to make me a little sad
When someone's child died
Usually because they were a friend
Or a relative
Usually an older child that had lived a little
Miscarriage wasn't talked about
It wasn't a subject discussed
No one talked about babies dying
Before they were born.
Little has changed over the years
It's still frowned upon to discuss
But why not acknowledge the life lost?
Why not mourn for that child?
Why must we as mothers be silent?
Even if I could,
I don't think I would go back.
My daughter taught me so much,
And so my son continues.
Losing them has opened my eyes
Yes, to a deep abiding pain
Yet, they have given me
A love I never knew was possible
I may not hold my children
I may never completely understand
But I will always be their mother.

The Cord

We are connected,
My child and I,
By an invisible cord,
Not seen by the eye.
It's not like the cord
That connects us till birth
This cord can't be seen
By any on Earth.
This cord does its work
Right from the start
It binds us together
Attached to my heart.
I know that it's there
Though no one can see
This invisible cord
From my child to me.
The strength of this chord
Man couldn't create
It withstands the test
Can hold any weight.
And though you are gone,
Though you're not here with me.
The cord is still there
But no one can see
It pulls at my heart.
I am bruised...I am sore,
But this cord is my lifeline
As never before.
I am thankful that God
Connects us this way
A mother and child
Death can't take away.

Baby Clay

Dear sweet boy I never knew,
I am at a loss for you...
With you, there was no warning
Until it was too late...
I mourn for you, I long for you...
Mommy wants nothing else
Than to be able to cradle you
Feel you kick, hear your heartbeat...
I just remember looking at
That sonogram screen...
My eyes were glued to it...
There was no movement,
No heartbeat...
Precious little one...
My heart aches...

My Alexa

Sweet baby girl, mig engel pige,
I am at a loss, Still
Here, three years without you
The pain is still here
My empty arms, My empty womb
If only...If only...

I can see those bouncy blonde curls
And hear those tiny feet on the floor
If I am quiet, If I am still...
I can hear it...
I used to run from it, Now I am still

Mama loves you angel,
Always my beautiful daughter.

Children's Footprints

Some children come into our lives and go quickly,
Some children come into our lives and stay awhile.
All our children come into our lives and leave footprints --
Some oh so small;
Some a little larger;
Some, larger still,
But all have left their footprints on our lives; in our hearts,
And we will never, never be the same.
~Doreen Sexton

An Angel Never Dies

Don't let them say I never lived,

Though something stopped my heart,

I felt the tenderness you gave,

I loved you from the start.

Although my body you can't hold,

It doesn't mean I'm gone,

This world was worthy, not, of me,

Fate chose that I move on.

I know the pain that drowns your soul

What you are forced to face,

You have my word, I'll fill your arms,

Someday we will embrace.

You'll hear that it was "meant to be",

But that won't soften your worst blow,

Or make your heart not ache.

I'm watching over all you do,

Believe me when I say to you,

That I am always there.

There'll come a time, I promise you,

When you will hold my hand,

Stroke my hands and kiss my lips,

And then you'll understand.

Although I never breathed your air,

Or gazed into your eyes,

That doesn't mean I never "was"
An angel never dies...

-Unknown Author

(Poem was edited)

Hello :)

I'm starting this blog for myself, as an outlet for the pain that is still so fresh, but I also know how hard it is to find quotes, poems, and other things that help you identify with your baby. After my first miscarriage, I scoured the internet for any shred of comfort I could find. It was never a very fruitful search. Although, the one's I did find were usually very inspiring.
I hope the posts that follow, that culminate to make this blog useful, are of some comfort and help to anyone who has lost a child. Whether you be a father, mother, sister, brother, grandparent, etc. Everyone in the family suffers when a child dies.
Everyone.