Friday, September 10, 2010

The Aftermath - part three

For part one of Starbaby's lifestory click here

This has taken awhile to publish, and there is so much I have left out. I often wish I could go back to those first few weeks. I was allowed to be a complete mess and think of nothing outside of myself and my grief. It was horrific and glorious at the same time, and I felt the closest to him that I ever have.

The week after leaving the hospital was a blur. We slept and lived curled up together on a single mattress on our living room floor. Aside from going to the funeral home to make arrangements, we didn’t leave the house. We watched a lot of trashy tv. If something was funny, I laughed. When I was sad, I cried. The nights were the worst. I would howl and cry for hours until I passed out. I started blogging again the day I got home from the hospital and I spent many, many hours devouring other DBM stories and blogs.

He was buried on a very hot day. The night before we went and had Laurie do matching tattoos of his name on our feet. I was excited to see him again the day of the burial. I couldn’t wait to hold him again. But when I saw him, I knew I couldn’t. He had been gone too long and he was too fragile. He was smaller than I remembered. We buried him silently with his music playing. I thought I would say something, but I couldn’t find the words. We only had our immediate family there. Once again, I found myself oddly calm and in control of myself. I barely cried.

We held his memorial a few weeks later. I didn’t think many people would come. But it was standing room only. We had a little party for him, and handed out his birth announcements. I made a speech. I can barely read it even now. There were many tears shed that day.

We “celebrated” every month for nearly a year. My blog and my friends on forums kept me going. I had no idea that stillbirth were so common.

We received the autopsy reports six weeks later. All my fears, all my late night terrors were laid to rest that day. I was overwhelmed by the thought that there may have been something we could do to save him. But the results were what I had always expected, and what I had found myself hoping for. Our baby boy had full trisomy 18 with a double aneuploidy. He never would have survived. I felt immense relief knowing that his fate was decided at his very conception. There was never anything we could do to change the outcome. The only thing I wish I could change is that I wish I had known some things that I know now. I wish I had known I could call a photographer in to get lovely photos of him. We have so few, and they are not great. I wish I had thought to bring in his blanket, his things into the hospital.

My greatest regret is not something that I ever could have changed though. I wish that we had known. At the time, we were so relieved that we didn’t know that there was something wrong. But now I wish we had known. I wish we could have induced while he was alive. I wish I could have seen his little eyes open. I wish my family and friends could have met him, even once. That’s the only thing I really wish I could change.

Losing my boy is quite obviously the most traumatic thing that I have endured. But it is not a horrible thing to me. Do not feel sorry for me that it happened. He is still my child and this is his story. It is who he is and I wouldn’t change it.

Little one, little one
Where have you gone?
Your going has darkened
The brightest dawn
Why did you leave us
So soon, so soon?
Where can we look for you?
Over the moon?
On butterflies' wings
In the heart of a rose?
Who knows,
who knows
Where a little one goes?
Where I have gone,
I am not so small
My soul is as wide
As the world is tall.
Wherever you look,
You will find me there~
In the heart of a rose,
In the heart of a prayer.
On butterflies' wings,
On wings of my own,
To you, I'm gone,
But I'm never alone~
I'm over the moon.
I am home.



5 comments:

  1. Such a beautiful poem about your precious baby boy. All my love.

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  2. Here I am. Back a third time, hoping I can figure out what to say.

    I hate it when people look at me with horror in their eyes when I tell them I delivered her after she left us. They don't know what it meant to me to be able to meet her.

    I am sorry you struggle with regret. I have a truckload of my own. I am always here rooting for you Suzy Q.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Love to you, to your family, to your starbaby. I hope our boys have met by now.

    ReplyDelete
  4. I am sure all our angels in heaven know they are missed and loved.
    I struggle with the regret of so few photos too and too little time.
    Thank you again for sharing your story, it helps to know we are not alone in our grief.

    ReplyDelete
  5. This is such a touching and beautiful story. Thank you for sharing it.

    ReplyDelete

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