GRIEVING OUR BABY
I never met her, but I love her unconditionally. The amount of love that I feel is so overwhelming that sometimes I can't believe it. How is it that a mother can fall in love with her child so completely without even meeting him or her? I probably won't ever know the answer to that question. That's alright.
We've had to say goodbye to Kailee a number of different times. We had to say goodbye the instant she was born, we had to say goodbye the morning we left her at the hospital, we had to say goodbye at the funeral, we had to say goodbye to our hopes that we would get to meet out daughter, we had to say goodbye to our dreams for our daughter.
I was released from the hospital the next morning at 8:30am. I will tell you right now--- the hardest thing I have ever done in my life is leaving my child at the hospital while I went home. It brings tears to my eyes just to think about how horrible that was. I left the labor and delivery unit fully dressed like nothing had happened at all. We got in the car and went home. The house was so quiet and everything felt so empty.
I can't speak for other mothers, but I know that one of my biggest fears (besides this happening again) is that people will forget about Kailee Rose. There isn't a moment during the day where she isn't on my mind and on my heart. I can be doing something as simple as paying bills and, even then, I am thinking about her.
The day of Kailee's funeral, my milk came in. I remember being so mad. Why didn't my body know that Kailee had died? It was just another reminder that she wasn't here. At the same time, I didn't want it to stop because it was the last piece of pregnancy I had to hold onto. I'm not sure if that makes sense..... come to think of it, this whole situation doesn't make sense, so that shouldn't be anything new.
Grieving my daughter is a full time job. When I close my eyes, I see snapshots from the day in the hospital when we were with her. I have this need to make her "real." I want things around the house that remind me of her--- not that I need reminding. We went to the jewelry store 2 days after Kailee was born, and I got a ring with her birthstone on it. I wear that ring all the time as a reminder. We have done many, many other things to remind us of our daughter:
1. We asked people not to send flowers to the funeral. We asked that they, instead, send children's books. We are using the books to build a library for our future children.
2. We have pictures of Kailee up in every room of the house. I'm never far away from a picture of our daughter.
3. We have made her her very own Christmas tree. It is filled up with ornaments-- some we bought and some that others have gotten for us.
4. We are still decorating Kailee's room-- there's something therapeutic about going into her little room with pink walls. We ordered furniture yesterday for her room.
5. We have monkey's all over the house. We chose a monkey theme because it took so long for us to determine the gender and we think monkeys are cute.
6. Someone made hand and foot molds of Kailee. They are in a box on our dresser. Each night I take them out and kiss each one.
7. The ultrasound pictures still hang on our refrigerator. I look very fondly at the one which pronounces her heartbeat as 152 beats per minute.
These are only some of the things I have around me to remember our daughter. Grief affects everyone so differently. I can speak for how it's affected me. I've not wanted to talk with anyone for fear of crying. I don't like to be in large groups of people who know me, because i'm afraid people will see me cry. I can be fine one minute and then break down the next. Grief affects me physically, emotionally and spiritually. I know 100% that my child is in heaven. That's the goal of parents, right? To guide your children on the path that leads them to heaven? We succeeded. She's there. That doesn't make this any easier, though.
Hearing people say "she's in a better place" or "it was God's plan" has not helped me, and I cringe when people say it. I can cognitively understand that God has a plan for me, but that doesn't mean it hurts less that she's not here. Just because I know my baby is in heaven doesn't take away the pain of losing her.
Added to all of this is the fact that I am not the only person who has lost their baby. Thinking that other families have been through this just sucks. I have been privileged to get to know other mommies who have gone through this. It helps so much to be able to talk with someone who has been there-- someone who carried their babies, knew they were going to die and went through the whole process anyway. That is a level of friendship and understanding that just can't be reproduced. I'm not negating anyone who has offered comfort-- that is not my intention at all. There's just something about talking with people who have been in your shoes--- it normalizes very intense feelings and makes me feel not so crazy. Another mommy sent me a baby blanket after Kailee died. It's beautifully done in pink and white with little angels. I can't tell you how comforting it is to receive gifts for Kailee--- even if she can' t use them. Again, it makes her feel more "real."
Another part of the grief is that we have no memories of Kailee being alive. We had such hope for bringing her home to show her her room. We had such hope for being able to see her squirm or make noises. That didn't happen. We got absolutely no time. I get angry about this a lot. Every other mother that I've talked to did get at least some time with their babies. Being stillborn means that Kailee didn't get a birth certificate OR a death certificate. How can this be? I KNOW I gave birth to her, I was there!!!! She was born, so why no birth certificate? Because it's called a "certificate of live birth" and she wasn't born ALIVE. Since she wasn't alive, there's also no death certificate. As far as the government in concerned, Kailee never even existed. See why I am so adament about people remembering her?
We've had to say goodbye to Kailee a number of different times. We had to say goodbye the instant she was born, we had to say goodbye the morning we left her at the hospital, we had to say goodbye at the funeral, we had to say goodbye to our hopes that we would get to meet out daughter, we had to say goodbye to our dreams for our daughter.
I was released from the hospital the next morning at 8:30am. I will tell you right now--- the hardest thing I have ever done in my life is leaving my child at the hospital while I went home. It brings tears to my eyes just to think about how horrible that was. I left the labor and delivery unit fully dressed like nothing had happened at all. We got in the car and went home. The house was so quiet and everything felt so empty.
I can't speak for other mothers, but I know that one of my biggest fears (besides this happening again) is that people will forget about Kailee Rose. There isn't a moment during the day where she isn't on my mind and on my heart. I can be doing something as simple as paying bills and, even then, I am thinking about her.
The day of Kailee's funeral, my milk came in. I remember being so mad. Why didn't my body know that Kailee had died? It was just another reminder that she wasn't here. At the same time, I didn't want it to stop because it was the last piece of pregnancy I had to hold onto. I'm not sure if that makes sense..... come to think of it, this whole situation doesn't make sense, so that shouldn't be anything new.
Grieving my daughter is a full time job. When I close my eyes, I see snapshots from the day in the hospital when we were with her. I have this need to make her "real." I want things around the house that remind me of her--- not that I need reminding. We went to the jewelry store 2 days after Kailee was born, and I got a ring with her birthstone on it. I wear that ring all the time as a reminder. We have done many, many other things to remind us of our daughter:
1. We asked people not to send flowers to the funeral. We asked that they, instead, send children's books. We are using the books to build a library for our future children.
2. We have pictures of Kailee up in every room of the house. I'm never far away from a picture of our daughter.
3. We have made her her very own Christmas tree. It is filled up with ornaments-- some we bought and some that others have gotten for us.
4. We are still decorating Kailee's room-- there's something therapeutic about going into her little room with pink walls. We ordered furniture yesterday for her room.
5. We have monkey's all over the house. We chose a monkey theme because it took so long for us to determine the gender and we think monkeys are cute.
6. Someone made hand and foot molds of Kailee. They are in a box on our dresser. Each night I take them out and kiss each one.
7. The ultrasound pictures still hang on our refrigerator. I look very fondly at the one which pronounces her heartbeat as 152 beats per minute.
These are only some of the things I have around me to remember our daughter. Grief affects everyone so differently. I can speak for how it's affected me. I've not wanted to talk with anyone for fear of crying. I don't like to be in large groups of people who know me, because i'm afraid people will see me cry. I can be fine one minute and then break down the next. Grief affects me physically, emotionally and spiritually. I know 100% that my child is in heaven. That's the goal of parents, right? To guide your children on the path that leads them to heaven? We succeeded. She's there. That doesn't make this any easier, though.
Hearing people say "she's in a better place" or "it was God's plan" has not helped me, and I cringe when people say it. I can cognitively understand that God has a plan for me, but that doesn't mean it hurts less that she's not here. Just because I know my baby is in heaven doesn't take away the pain of losing her.
Added to all of this is the fact that I am not the only person who has lost their baby. Thinking that other families have been through this just sucks. I have been privileged to get to know other mommies who have gone through this. It helps so much to be able to talk with someone who has been there-- someone who carried their babies, knew they were going to die and went through the whole process anyway. That is a level of friendship and understanding that just can't be reproduced. I'm not negating anyone who has offered comfort-- that is not my intention at all. There's just something about talking with people who have been in your shoes--- it normalizes very intense feelings and makes me feel not so crazy. Another mommy sent me a baby blanket after Kailee died. It's beautifully done in pink and white with little angels. I can't tell you how comforting it is to receive gifts for Kailee--- even if she can' t use them. Again, it makes her feel more "real."
Another part of the grief is that we have no memories of Kailee being alive. We had such hope for bringing her home to show her her room. We had such hope for being able to see her squirm or make noises. That didn't happen. We got absolutely no time. I get angry about this a lot. Every other mother that I've talked to did get at least some time with their babies. Being stillborn means that Kailee didn't get a birth certificate OR a death certificate. How can this be? I KNOW I gave birth to her, I was there!!!! She was born, so why no birth certificate? Because it's called a "certificate of live birth" and she wasn't born ALIVE. Since she wasn't alive, there's also no death certificate. As far as the government in concerned, Kailee never even existed. See why I am so adament about people remembering her?