Right Where I Am: Three Years, Three Months

This post is in response to Angie's project, Right Where I Am. I apologise for the rambled stream of consciousness that follows...the truth is I dont really know how I feel 3 years out from the best and worst period of my life.


Sometimes it seems like a lifetime ago. Most of the time it feels like it happened to someone else. All of the time I feel like I am a different person to before.

My life now is divided into two parts. Before and After. The truth is, I can barely remember what life was like before. What was it like to live life in ignorant bliss? What was it like to not know how it felt to bury your child?

And recently all I have been thinking is: if Star had never died, Manny would never have lived. My baby's death is so closely linked with my other baby's life, the two can never be separated. This thought has been going around in my head for over a week now. The greatest joy in my life, could not have existed without the greatest sadness in my life. It hurts my brain just to think about it.

I do remember the early days. I have written about them before. About how liberating it was, the freedom to grieve openly. The freedom to hole myself up in my home and ignore the world. The freedom to lie on the floor and scream and sob at the top of my lungs regardless of who might hear me. I miss being able to be so raw - so openly bereaved.

As time marched on, and particularly after Manny's birth, the expectation was that everything was "better" now. I remember 8 months out, on the 27th of the month, my mother asked me what was wrong. I told her the 27th is a hard day for me. Her response was "what, every month!?!" I was dumbfounded. My own mother expected I should be "over it" after only 8 months.

Now, over three years out, I cry less. I think of him frequently, but I do not cry. I talk about him all the time, but I do not cry. I pull out his photos and stare at him, but I do not cry.

Some nights, late at night when everyone else is in bed, I think of him and cry. But the tears are no longer racking my body with sobs. They are silent tears that simply fall from my eyes of their own accord and soak my pillow.

Three years out, my eldest has weaved his baby brother into the fabric of his life. Every now and then he mentions his name in passing...and it reminds me. He was here. He left his footprint on this earth. He wasn't just a part of me, he is a part of our family.

We do not cry for him anymore. But we love him with every beat of our hearts.

Easter Therapy

Yesterday I went shopping, and ended up having an impromptu therapy session.

I was going to a department store to look for long sleeves for Manny as the weather is starting to get colder. I wandered into the Easter section to grab a couple of chocolates for Rocket. I figured that like usual I would just grab a chocolate egg and a small toy. Easter hasn't been fun for me for awhile now. As I am the one in the house who arranges all the parties, holidays, gifts etc, if I'm not into it, it doesn't happen.

Last year I tried. I did the Easter hunt thing, which took no effort really, but I really used to enjoy all the Easter palaver.

But then yesterday I stood there in the Easter section and looked around. And found something cute. A ceramic egg decorating kit for small kids. "My Rocket loves craft" I thought, so I picked it up. Then I spotted the coloured rabbit ears. Since he was wee, we've always called Manny 'Bunny' (yes he is the baby of a thousand names). "How cute would Bunny look in these ears?" I thought, so I picked them up.

Before I knew it I had filled a basket. Lovely baskets ready for the boys to decorate, and some pretty chocolate lollipops, little wooden baby chicks to paint, easter paper chains to make, soft bendable bunny ears to wear, little fluffy chicks in nests.

And then I was off to another craft store.

To look for Easter decorations.

I think this year might be different.

I think tomorrow I might even bake some hot cross buns.

The Thirds

It has started.

All the third not-birthdays are rolling around. Which means it is only a matter of months before it is my Starbaby's third not-birthday.

To all the members of my DBMafia - whether you are here reading this or not - your babies live on in my heart. They all made a mark on me in such a profound way and they will always be loved. Those of you missing your little ones all about to "turn" three - I was there with you in the beginning, you saved me, you saved my sanity and my life - to know that I wasn't alone - to know that what I felt was ok - I cannot imagine how I would have passed those first months without you.

To my DBMafia...I remember. I love them too. Happy Third Birthdays, I wish we could see you all blowing out your candles and opening your gifts. I hope you are all partying together somewhere in the stars.

Wave of Light

My candles lit for the Wave of Light across the world for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. One for my miscarried babies, one for my Starbaby, and a multi petalled one to represent all the very loved and wanted babies of friends, my baby's special playmates in the stars.

We remember them every day, and love them every minute.

ICLW rolls around again

Well well it's ICLW again already!

For the first time in awhile I am not mid-IVF this ICLW. I should be, but my clinic are a bunch of raving incompetents.....I digress.

A brief rundown of who I am as a blogger would say:
My name is Suzy.
I have three babies - two boys on earth, one boy in the stars. He was stillborn at term in February 2008 and my heart aches for him every day.
I am now TTC again via IVF/ICSI and have had two consecutive miscarriages at 7 weeks.
I am starting to think that it will never happen for us and that we are just going through the motions.
I watch too much TV.
I recently had a major health scare as my specialists believed I had large brain tumours.
Turns out I don't. Thanks for scaring 10 years off my life though.
I love all three of my children fiercely.
I'm a wannabe perfect housewife who has an aversion to cleaning.
I love my camera and wish I had more time to perfect my art.


That's me. In a nutshell. Welcome. Kick off your shoes in the hallway (everyone else here does) and make yourself at home.

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.

Heartwarming/Heartbreaking

My Sweet Boy
Manny's latest obsession is finding Starbaby's photo album, and flicking through it. He exclaims every time he sees his face, and then kisses it loudly. We are teaching him to say Star's name and he has shortened it to the cutest nickname and he just says his name over and over and kisses his face in the photos. It warms my heart so much but breaks it at the same time.


I often have tears rolling down my face as he caresses the photos and kisses them. I never thought I could feel such deep emotions from a simple act of a 1 year old, but there you go. He never ceases to amaze me.

awkward silences

It's been over two years now since my son's heart stopped beating and my world was torn open. It has become such a part of my every day life that I barely recognise how horrific an occurence stillbirth is, and that not everyone has come to the acceptance of it that I have.

At playgroup the other day someone asked quite innocently of another mum who her OB was, we started discussing it. I mentioned that we went through a different hospital than them because we wanted a specific OB - the head of obstetrics at the major public hospital in our city. I rambled on abut how great he was, how he was the one who delivered the autopsy results to us and he gave us scans at every appt with Monster because of my anxiety.

**crickets**

The room was silent. AWKWARD. Then I realised what I had said. No one commented on it, as they all know my story by now (well, except for one new mum who I am sure was sitting there thinking "WTF is this woman talking about???") and it dawned on me that while I feel completely comfortable discussing his death, to them it is a scary unknown. I can imagine how I would have reacted had I been sitting in their position only 3 years ago.

I remember when I was pregnant with our Starbaby we watched a tv show that followed a bunch of couples through pregnancy and birth. One of these couples were pregnant after a stillbirth. We were horrified. Both that "that" really happens, and by the fact that she was pregnant so soon afterwards. "How would you live with that!?!" we asked "I cannot even begin to imagine that!" we said.

Only a few months later we were in the hospital delivery our little man, and a few months later we were back there, pregnant with Monster.

These things just keep happening, me rambling on and then looking up to see the horrified expressions on people faces...I refuse to censor myself, but I am frequently surprised when I catch myself mentioning it so casually. People must think I am so callous, but the fact is, I have made my peace with it. I don't believe it ever could have happened any other way, and this was always meant to happen.

But I had a dream the other morning that they discovered his trisomy earlier and we managed to get him out alive. That he lived for a few months. I dreamt of a party we threw him, how beautiful it was to have all our friends and family there to meet him, to see how amazing he was. I woke up smiling. I wish every day that we had managed to have just a few days with him. It's my only regret about the entire story...

Because I can...but I don't want to.

I dyed my hair purple the other day...because I can. I've drunk more red wine in the past few weeks than I have in the past few years...because I can. I had a migraine this morning so I took the strongest painkillers I could find...because I can.

I don't want to be able to do these things!

Roller derby and red wine and purple hair and painkillers...all things I have great affection for and enjoy wholeheartedly but I wish I couldn't be doing any of them right now. I'm still just feeling bitter and hate thinking the "I should be almost 9 weeks pregnant right now" thoughts. They just make me more bitter and twisted than I already am.

I'm out of thoughts. The same things are on a carousel in my mind and I'm just sick of it!

I need to pull myself back on track. Stay tuned for better entries...hopefully with a more interesting topic than my broken record of wah wah woe is me...

{ETA}

Extended Leave of Absence

If it's true what they say...that absence makes the heart grow fonder...then y'all should be pretty darn fond of me by now!

In all seriousness...it's been a rough few weeks. I am trying to break myself out of the funk I find myself in...but it's not proving as easy as it once was. I am dwelling on things that cannot be changed and just generally feeling sorry for myself. Pity Party for One, right here.

But I can't carry on like this much longer! I have written and discarded dozens of entries over the past few weeks because they were all the same whiny bollocks that no-one wants to read (I didn't even want to write them and often stopped halfway through and walked away)

I am working on finding my Happy again. I miss my Happy.

I can't change the fact that I have to work at the moment. So I should just deal with it and try to find better ways of coping with life while working. Easier said than done...

But onwards and upwards, as they say! Let's be honest, it's all up from where I am right now.

Stay tuned for a non whiny/boo hoo/woe is me post soon...

Stillbirth - the gift that keeps on giving...

I can't rid myself of these tears.

I have cried so many times over the past two years you would think that there wouldn't be any left. And yet, we cry.

I read a blog entry by a dear DBM friend today, writing about the bitterness she feels every time a new pregnancy is announced. About how she doesn't understand why, she has gone on to have a beautiful living baby, but the bitterness and the pain is still there.

I feel her pain, I really do. There is a pregnancy in our family at the moment. And I find myself feeling the most intense and awful feelings towards both the expectant mother and even, the baby. I do not wish ill on them by any means. But the jealousy and the bitterness are at times overwhelming. I thought that it would lessen once I had my own 'rainbow' baby. That the bitterness would lessen because I too had experienced a pregnancy that ended well. But being on the other side has not lessened the angst I feel when I hear a pregnancy announcement. I want to scowl and spit and throw things. I don't, I do have some self control you know, but I want to.

I want to scream at this BIPP (blissfully ignorant pregnant person) in my family "I hate you! For no other reason than the fact that my baby died and yours probably will not" I want people to remember my starbaby because I think part of it feels like the more babies that come into this world, and into our lives, the less important his tiny, short, brief little life was. The less people will remember him.

Fuck. I'm becoming a person I dont even recognise.

I bought the BIPP a baby gift today. She is over 30 weeks now and I have not said a word to her since she announced it. Not a word. I planned on hating her forever and never holding her baby. Never commenting on it. Pretending it doesnt exist.

Who is this person? This is not me! I love babies!

I can't do it anymore. I feel like I am drowing in my own negativity, in my own hatred and anger. Enough is enough. I have flipped the switch and I will no longer indulge myself and allow myself to feel this way. I will embrace this new child and try to begin the journey towards getting to know the BIPP and hopefully I will feel a little lighter, a little less villain-esque and I can stop invoking years of bad karma.

So I bought her a gift. Then I decided maybe I will keep it for myself.

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

DBM Support - FAIL

There is another DBM (deadbabymom) at my work.

We didnt used to work on the same floor and I had minimal interaction with her. When she got pregnant, I had just lost my Starbaby. When she got pre-eclampsia and was rushed to hospital, I was pregnant with Monster baby.

When her baby had to be induced at 25 weeks because if he wasn't, they would both die, I was at home.

When he died in the NICU after fighting for two months, I was on leave.

When she and I were both back at work, I had a newborn and she didn't. I avoided her. When he first died, I wanted to be there for her, but I didnt really even know her. I should have reached out and I didnt.

We now work on the same floor. I went into her office to get something that was stored in there and saw a bag full of tiny tiny knitted hats. I stopped dead in my tracks. I knew what they were for. I wanted to ask her "do you knit these?" I wanted to say "its wonderful" I wanted to say "I wish we'd had a tiny hat for Starbaby's head" I wanted to say "I think about J--- sometimes too" I wanted to say "you are not alone, you are not the only one".

Instead I grabbed what I needed and fled back to my desk with tears in my eyes.

FAIL Suzy. FAIL.

Never what you had planned...

I had planned on a more lighthearted entry today, until I got a phone call from my mother. First off, an entire department at our office (we work together) was made redundant yesterday. People who had worked there for 25 years. They have always valued loyalty above all. It would appear that is no longer the case. While I want to be a full time mother and housewife, the unfortunate truth of the world is that we cannot afford that and I have to work part time. If they can wipe out an entire department, where does that leave me? I am scared for my job security for the first time ever.

She also told me her close friend passed away last night after a battle with cancer (melanoma). I just dissolved into tears. I wasnt close to her but with my starbaby's birth/deathday tomorrow, and the job thing...well it all seems too much.

Oh and it's my mothers birthday today.

Happy Birthday Mama.

Some days are diamonds...some are just lumps of coal

Rough night last night.

Cried for the first time in awhile - the ugly kind of crying, complete with sobbing, snotty nose, face smeared with tears, clutching at your heart like if you could just take it out you might feel a moment of peace...that type of crying. Ugh it is tiresome.

And here I am another day where he is all I can think of to write about. I go to all the effort of moving blogs but I guess it's like life. You can't run away from the things that are hard or hurtful in your life, they will follow you. I wanted this to be a fresh start, light hearted, not polluted with all the grief I carried for so long.

I thought I was past this! For so long I didn't even write on my blog because there was nothing babylost related to report. The rest of my life was ticking along nicely. Hence the move, hence the new blog. But then here we are edging closer. and closer. and closer. to two years (T minus 4 days and counting) and I feel myself falling further and further back into the old pattern of reading a deadbabyblog, crying for the baby, then crying for my baby, sobbing on the floor and eventually crying myself to sleep.

Rinse. Lather. Repeat.

And it is tiring. It is exhausting. And it all started because I was trying to pick a photo to put in my sidebar of my Little Man.

I am filled with such strong emotions at the moment. There is so much love, but then there is also a scary amount of hatred. A disturbing amount of jealousy and envy. A general spitefulness that never existed prior to my loss. I think of all the women who pledge to do great things after their babies die. Women who say the loss has made them better people. I do not believe mine has. Or perhaps, that ever looming anniversary is just overwhelming literally everything in my life.

So I am left here today, utterly exhausted, barely able to keep my eyes open, and utterly unable to think of anything else.

Grave Imagery

I went out to the cemetary today.

We are creeping ever closer to my little guy's second anniversary of his birth and death, and it's affecting me a lot more than his first. It could be because I was still pregnant with the Monster Baby on his first birthday/deathday so I didn't allow myself to think about it too much.

This year I was planning big things. But a few hurdles along the way and I threw in my plans. Too stressful. I want to just focus on him this year. Privately grieve on my own and get through it. Maybe next year we can do something big in his honour.

But anyway...the cemetary.
We are finally arranging his plaque/gravestone for his second birthday. It has been so hard because what do you say? What do you write on the stone? How do you sum up the hopes and dreams of a full life? How do you put into words the utter desolation of losing a baby before you know them?

We still dont have the words yet but it needs to be done. His temporary marker has finally been removed so he has nothing there now. I went into the office to pick out the image for the stone. Looking through the book for something appropriate.

We aren't Christian so 99% of the religious symbology isn't appropriate.

We never knew him so we don't know if he liked trains, or boats, or dogs, or cats.

We don't know if he would have liked fishing or surfing like his dad.

We don't know if he would have been sporty (like his mum) or academic (like his mama).

It didn't leave much.

But as in all things, humour. Would you believe that one of the options is a marijuana leaf? No seriously! Who looks through that book and says "Well he did like the weed, let's put that on his gravestone" Or perhaps "well he was high when he crashed into that tree...seems appropriate". I mean really...It did give me a much needed giggle though...

Letting Go

It's interesting, a large part of the reason I started this new blog was to create a space for my whole family, for myself, for my own evolution. Like my dearest Aunt Becky I was making 2010 the Suzy-Year where I would come into my own and finally achieve some of the things I have wanted to do for years but put off.

I wanted to move forwards. I spent so much time in my grief-fog that I wanted to come out of it and move on. Part of that was letting go of my babyloss blog.

And yet...

In creating my new list of blogs to follow - my fellow DBM's blogs make up 90% of it.

Every second post I want to compose is about him.

Am I not ready to let go yet?
Or has his death started to define me, the way I swore it never would?
Or is it all just because we are edging closer, and closer, and closer towards his 2nd birthday, and the 2nd anniversary of his death?