Thursday, November 15, 2012

Hell

My midwife posted an article, "The Imagined Child: Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month," less than a week before we lost Sarah.  I remember seeing the headline pop up in my Facebook news feed and clicking through before my brain registered the title.  And I immediately regretted it.  

You see, reading about loss right before you're about to deliver - and really, just while pregnant and hormonal - is enough to set the most balanced person off.  But once the post was on my iPod, I was compelled to read it.  And I did. 

I don't think I made it more than a few sentences in before tears were running down my face.  It never occurred to me, on October 26th, that Sarah was ever at risk for dying. My experience had always been early miscarriages.  And by this point I was already a few days past my due date. But my heart sobbed for the 'almost' babies I lost so many years ago.  And for the women mentioned in the story who, in my mind, had been dealt a horrible blow.  One that I could never imagine living through.

Except that here I am, two weeks later.  Living in what I thought would be hell. 

..but it's not.

I think hell might be watching my beautiful Sarah suffer. Actually seeing her die.  Or holding her in my arms, seeing her take her last breath and having no way of helping her. 

And oddly, there is comfort in knowing that she never left the warm, safe place where she grew for 9 months. I like to think that her death was painless and quick.  That she was never poked, prodded, or shocked. 

Most of all, I like to think that knew she was loved for every moment of her short, sweet life.


5 comments:

  1. And now I am crying.
    -Michelle, your midwife

    ReplyDelete
  2. Crying here too. We share a midwife, and my heart aches for you. I too have experienced the early losses, and I cried over that article too.

    I'm so sorry for your loss.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Thank you for sharing all these beautiful thoughts. I commented a week or so ago and have just read through your recent posts. My sweet girl would have turned 7 this coming sunday. I can't imagine how 7 years have gone by. Reading your posts transports me right back to those first weeks and the anguish and sadness and wonder at the process. If it is any comfort, after all this time i remember her and smile. It is a bittersweet love. my sweet tiny bird who kicked every time her brother laughed and who rolled all over keeping me up at night. Those precious moments give me peace and although it seems you never get "over" this experience, you do get "through" it and by finding ways to see past the grief and find the beauty--i believe we all help each other to heal.
    We have a memory book for her that was so hard to make, but so necessary. I am grateful for it every time i need to really sit down and connect with my girl or on her "birthday" when we look at it as a family and talk about missing her and losing her and how it would have been to have another sibling around.......The kids are completely aware that they had a sister and although she is not here with us now, she is very much a part of our family and our hearts.
    I fully support all that you are doing for yourself and your kids and I do believe that things happen the way they need to. It is a blessing that even in the pain of this loss, you can find a way to say, "we are grateful for the not knowing". I too, did not know and have always said I would never have wanted it any other way. 9 months of pure love and joy and bonding. At least we had those 9 months. Sending much love and hugs -Erin

    ReplyDelete
  4. I just read through your entire blog and am in awe of your strength and courage ... Michelle is amazing, and I'm glad she was a part of Sarah's life... every baby deserves to be born into loving hands...
    <3 Chrissie

    ReplyDelete
  5. I just read your entire blog as well. Our children are 20 and 25 . Between them we lost four babies. Because I lost them early in the pregnancies I never knew their genders. I am sitting here crying as I think about the babies I never got to hold. I am crying because I hear your pain and my heart aches for you and your family. Your writing is an amazing thing. I wish I would have done something like this because I believe it would have helped me. Your thoughts and feelings are helping you but they are also touching the lives of thousands. Sarah is touching the lives of others. Sarah will never be forgotten. She has left a permament mark on the face of this earth.

    ReplyDelete