Parents of lost babies and potential of all kinds: come here to share the technicolour, the vividness, the despair, the heart-broken-open, the compassion we learn for others, having been through this mess — and see it reflected back at you, acknowledged and understood.
Thanks to photographer Xin Li and to artist Stephanie Sicore for their respective illustrations and photos.
We found out Sidney's heart had stopped 3.5 weeks ago, when I went to the hospital in full labor. Even writing these sentences again causes a tightness in my chest and I can't breathe, fighting to accept this reality. Today would have been his due date. My husband took our other son to music class this morning, and I am sitting in the quiet of our house. But I hate the quiet. Two months ago, we would have argued over who got to have the time to relax at home, and who went to music class. All we wanted was time. And now, I hate time. It is my enemy. Not sure how to fill it. Angry that I have free time. I stare at Sidney's picture, wanting to drink him in. Wanting to try to get pregnant again but plagued by anxiety about it, and angry that i should even have to think about it. I am in a career where everything is planned, where I am supposed to be writing, researching, traveling, teaching, but I am not sure how to do all of that. I just sit, watching the leaves blow in the trees, crying, panic attacks, as my mind fights with itself, trying to convince me nothing has happened, and this is just a bad dream. I want to be more functional for my living son, but also feel like I am betraying Sidney if I do appear at all functional or feel a moment's distraction. I want a physical marker or indication that I am grieving and devastated. A big sign that says 'my son is dead' so that everyone knows. I am angry that my body has healed, that my breast milk has mostly dried up, that my body could work and forget so quickly when my heart is broken. How do you deal with these contradictions? Wanting the grief to become bearable but also thinking that it shouldn't be bearable, because my son is dead? Wanting to be physically healthy and functional, but feeling betrayed by a working body? Knowing on some level I will need to learn to live with Sidney's death but if I learn that, that means I have accepted that he is in fact dead? The line from the song, I can't live, if living is without you, keeps running through my head, and I wonder what 'living' means and will look like without Sidney. What does living with these contradictions mean for you all?
All we can do is live. Just focus on the next breath. Let yourself smile if something makes you smile. It's hard I know it's hard but just keep breathing. We are here for you.
I am so sorry for the loss of your sweet Sidney. It is so terrible - it feels like being gutted is how I describe it. Yet the world keeps going on while you are walking around with your intestines hanging out. The shock of those first months leaves me with few clear memories of what my thought processes were. But I do remember thinking - I should have a shirt announcing my baby died so you won't ask " how are you today ". I wanted to scream at the world (and I did sometimes driving in my car at night). How could time be moving on? Losing your baby hurts so badly you think you'll die - but you keep waking up every day. One morning I woke the pain was just slightly better than before. Somewhere around nine months I truly believed it wouldn't always be so bad. Now, 11 months out, I am suffering deep sadness again with approaching her birthdate and first death date anniversary.
For me what helped the most was my support group to confirm everything I was experiencing was normal. Don't judge yourself for contradictory thoughts. Whatever you are feeling is normal. I wish you some rest. I am so sorry you have to be here. Kim
Oh I am so sorry for your loss of Sidney, it's also so very soon after and I know that these days and weeks are just so terribly difficult, although I wonder if it ever does get any less difficult. I still have some pretty crap days. It's been three years since my daughter died and I am still a big mess at times. I still hate the quiet too, especially if my son and husband are out, I never know what to do with myself, write in my livings son journal or write a blog post for dead Zia, what to do? what to do? I should be taking care of a toddler while my boys go out and do whatever it it that boys do. I guess I just want to say that you're not alone and I have been there too. Much light.
I'm sorry for your loss of Sidney. You are right that the quiet and the time seems to stretch endlessly and it's nothing that you want anymore. I am four months out from that terrible moment of seeing a still heart - I think that's one of the worst things you can see as a mother, your child's heart so still - and I still have no solutions. For me, as cliche as that is, the phrase "tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow creeps in this petty pace from day to day" is what life feels like right now. So many hugs and tears for your precious Sidney.
I'm so sorry for your loss of Sidney. I'm about a month out from losing my daughter (earlier on in the pregnancy however) and I still feel like I'm in a haze of grief. I wish we both weren't mourning our losses and my heart goes out to you.
Silence is hard for me even 9 years later
For me what helped the most was my support group to confirm everything I was experiencing was normal. Don't judge yourself for contradictory thoughts. Whatever you are feeling is normal. I wish you some rest. I am so sorry you have to be here. Kim