"An Ugly Pair of Shoes"

"An Ugly Pair of Shoes"

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable Shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step. Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes. They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes. To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them. But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the only one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in the world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don’t hurt quite as much.
Some have wear the shoes so long that days will go by
before they think of how much they hurt. No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of the shoes I am a stronger women. These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am. I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

Author Unknown

"Normal"

I found this post in my stillbirth support. It is so true.

"Normal"


Normal is having tears waiting behind every smile when you realize someone important is missing from all the important events in your family's life.

Normal is feeling like you can't sit another minute without getting up and screaming, because you just don't like to sit through anything.

Normal is not sleeping very well because a thousand what if's & why didn't I's go through your head constantly.

Normal is reliving that day continuously through your eyes and mind, holding your head to make it go away.

Normal is staring at every pregnant woman wondering how far along she is, then thinking how far along I should be and imagining I am still pregnant as I should be. Then wondering why it is even important to imagine it, because it will never happen.

Normal is every happy event in my life always being backed up with sadness lurking close behind, because of the hole in my heart.

Normal is no matter how many or by what means we have children, there will always be one missing.

Normal is telling the story of your child's death as if it were an everyday, commonplace activity, and then seeing the horror in someone's eyes at how awful it sounds. And yet realizing it has become a part of my "normal".

Normal is having some people afraid to mention my baby.

Normal is making sure that others remember my baby.

Normal is I will celebrate my childs birth and mourn the death all on the same day.

Normal is after delivery is over everyone else goes on with their lives, but we continue to grieve our loss forever.

Normal is weeks, months, and years after the initial shock, the grieving gets worse sometimes, not better.

Normal is not listening to people compare anything in their life to this loss, unless they too have lost a child. NOTHING. Even if your child is in the remotest part of the earth away from you - it doesn't compare. Losing a parent is horrible, but having your child die is unnatural.

Normal is realizing I do cry everyday.

Normal is being impatient with everything and everyone because you are stricken with grief over the loss of your child.

Normal is feeling a common bond with friends on the computer in England, Australia, Canada, the Netherlands and all over the USA, but yet never having met any of them face to face.

Normal is a new friendship with another grieving mother, talking and crying together over our children and our new lives.

Normal is not listening to people make excuses for God. "God may have done this because..." I love God, I know that my baby is in heaven, but hearing people trying to think up excuses as to why babies were taken from this earth is not appreciated and makes absolutely no sense to this grieving mother.

Normal is some days being too tired to care if you paid the bills, cleaned the house, did laundry or if there is any food.

Normal is wondering this time what to say when the inevitable question of how many children is asked because you will never see this person again and it is not worth explaining that one baby is in heaven. And yet when you say you one child to avoid that problem, you feel horrible as if you have betrayed your baby.

Normal is avoiding friends who have been friends for years because the site of them and their children tears my heart in two and reminds me again of what I lost.

Normal is asking God why he took your child's life instead of yours and asking if there even is a God.

Normal is finding excuses not to go to baby showers and birthday parties because you don't want your loss and sadness to overshadow anyone’s special day.

Normal is having to bite your tongue when people say stupid things because you know they mean no harm, they are just ignorant.

Normal is being avoided by people who know because they are uncomfortable talking about it.

Normal is I NEED to talk about it.

Normal is everyday finding the strength to get out of bed and go on living even though there are days you feel like you can't.

Normal is when you do get out of bed you realize that today is one day closer to seeing my baby again.

Normal is knowing that 80% of relationships will not survive the loss of a child and wondering if you will beat the odds.

Normal is blaming yourself and wondering if others blame you too.

Normal is knowing that I will never be able to enjoy a pregnancy because it will be plagued with fear and remembrance of how this one ended.

Normal is I wouldn't give back my 27 weeks I shared with my child because sometimes love is so great that saying hello and goodbye in the same moment is worth it.

Normal is knowing I will never get over this loss, in a day or a million years.

And last of all, Normal is hiding all the things that have become "normal" for you to feel, so that everyone around you will think that you are "normal".

Up's and Down's

Ok so I have not written in a week but to be honest not much has changed. I have ups and downs in every day. When I am having ups I feel good but when I am having downs I feel bad for feeling good. Some one told me last week that they can not believe that I am being so strong. I am not really being strong I just try to not think about it. How do I do this? Not by being strong in any way. I sleep or watch TV. I know that I need to get up and start doing things but it has only been two weeks. Maybe next week I can begin to go through Reagan's stuff and put it away. I have decided to just box it up just incase we are able to use it again.

I just want to thank Herschel Jones Middle School for making a service for Reagan possible. This was not something that Brian even really considered or thought we wanted. We were just going to cremate her and bring our baby girl home. But in hindsight I am glad that we had a service. Even thought she was born still she was a baby. I got to hold her and cuddle her and so I think that she really deserved to have the recognition that a service brought her. Reagan’s service was beautiful. Her Grandma and Grandpa gave her seven pink roses to signify her seven months. I am going to take one and dry it out. She received some other really pretty flowers as well. The pastor gave a beautiful service and spoke to Brian and me most of the time which I thought was nice. After the service we brought Reagan home with us and she is sitting where I can see her every day. I will post pictures as soon as I get them onto my computer.

Yesterday was a pretty bad day for me. This is what I wrote in my journal yesterday:

I miss my little girl so much. My heart is breaking for the loss of my daughter. How will go on? I know that I have to but it is so hard. If I could stay in bed for ever I would be OK. Although I know that this is obviously not healthy it is all I want to do. Sleep, Sleep, Sleep. I am going to try and keep Alec home with me once a week for my sanity. Not sure how that will actually help my sanity but it will keep me busy and not thinking about Reagan so much.

I did get to go to the DR and get my staples out so that was a good point in my day. I spent a while talking to the DR. She is very nice and we sort of formed a bond when we both miscarried. Me in December and her in the spring. She came in crying and hugged me and told me she was glad I was her last appt of the day because she did not think she could see any patients after me. I thought this was very sweet. The Dr who performed the delivery (another woman in the practice) called her the next day to tell her about it and how it was such a bad day for her. She said she was a little sad but when she saw who it was she just broke down and cried. We then talked about the normal things and when I could get back to doing “stuff”. We also talked about what might have gone wrong even though she did not tell me anything new really. With the amniotic fluid being low they will really monitor this next time as well as the growth in the baby. She was pretty small for 27 weeks. They will be sending me to a perinatologist right away and will I will probably have bi-weekly or monthly ultrasounds. I think Brian is going through an angry phase. I do not really know because he is the quite type and does not really talk about his emotions until it all builds up and eventually boils over. But, when I spoke to him about all the monitoring they would be doing next time he said “I thought they would be doing this that this time. That is what they said that they would be keeping a close eye on you because of what happened with Alec.” But, I was not having any of the same issues that I did with Alec so I can kind of understand the lack of monitoring and the PIH did not begin until 28 or 29 weeks. You know hindsight is 20-20. If we go back things would be so much different.

Here is the poem that was in Reagan's memorial pamphlet.

Precious Little one

I`m just a precious little one who didn`t make it there.
I went straight to be with Jesus,
but I`m waiting for you here.
Many dwelling here where I live,
waited years to enter in.
Struggled through a world of sorow,
a world marred with pain and sin.
Thank you for the life you gave me,
it was brief but don`t complain.
I have all Heaven`s Glory,
suffered none of earth`s great pain.
Thank you for the name you gave me.
I`d have loved to bring it fame.
But if I`d lingered in earth`s shadows,
I would have suffered just the same.
So sweet family-don`t you sorrow.
Wipe those tears and chase the gloom.
I went straight to Jesus` arms
from my loving Mother`s womb.
~Author Unknown

Letting Reagan Go

Letting go of Reagan was the hardest thing I have ever done in my life. When the nurse brought her in for the last time I just held her and cried. I cried for this baby I never got a chance to know, I cried for myself, and I cried because I just did not understand why she had to be taken from me so soon. When Brian called the nurse to come get her I just could not let her go. I think she asked me several times if I wanted her to come back. Every time I would reach out to give Reagan to her I just pulled her back because I could not bear giving her up for the very last time. But, I knew it would not get any easier if I even if I had her for hours. So finally around 10:30 on Thursday, October 29, 2009, I gave my baby up for the very last time.

A few months ago I stumbled upon a baby page a fellow member of babyfit.com who is due again in December of this year after loosing her little girl at 38 weeks due to a cord injury. I could not imagine this mother’s pain. I never thought that I would now be feeling that same pain. Reality is starting to sink in and the feeling of loss is tremendous. Although, I know the pain will ease as time goes on, right now I cannot see how that can happen. How long does it take this emptiness to fade? All I want is to hold my little girl.

Going Home

Today I have to leave my baby. I never imagined that this would be this hard. I am ready to go home and get out of the hospital but it has been comforting knowing Reagan is right next door. I can only cry as I think the funeral home taking away my little girl. Last week at this time we were planning a baby shower. Now I have to plan a funeral. All our joy has turned to sorrow. All I can think of is how unfair life is right not. I thought that having the miscarriage last December was one of the hardest things I had to go through. It is nothing compared to this. Reagan was a baby. She could have survived outside of the womb. I think that I will be asking why for a very long time.

It is amazing the love you can have for a child you never knew. I thought it would be hard to love another child as much as I love my son but it is not. My heat is bursting with love for my beautiful little girl. She will forever be my beautiful angel.

We have received so many thoughtful words and prayers. It is amazing how much people care. We were planning on having our little girl cremated and taking her home with us. We really did not feel the need for a service at first. But then my school stepped in and said they wanted to take care of the services for us. Wow was all I could say. Now I realize that although I did not want to share my daughter with anyone it is the right thing to do. By having a memorial service, I am allowing others to grieve with me and to share in my loss. It has shown me that I am not alone. We are still going to take our little girl home with us. A mausoleum was offered but I want Reagan with me at home. I do not want to forget her. People have told me that this would not happen but I have to do what is in my heart. Maybe sometime in the future it may be something to consider but not right now.