Saturday, February 20, 2010

Long night

I had a long night of tears last night. It's been a while so I guess it was bound to happen again soon. Maybe it's good for me now and then, but I feel so drained this morning and just...well...sad. A friend of mine just had her baby and she said something on her facebook about how amazing it is that you go into a hospital one person and come out completely different. I remember so well the joy I felt leaving the hospital with Ethan, so I totally get what she means. But it got me thinking about how completely different I was when I left that hospital with empty arms, handing my lifeless child over to strangers.

I know, I know, you've heard it all before, but just let me have a moment.

I remember David calling Brad and Sandra to ask them to watch Ethan for a few minutes so we could go have a quick ultrasound and make sure Noah was ok since I wasn't feeling him move. When we walked to the door to drop off Ethan, Sandra and I exchanged a look and I don't know what Sandra was thinking in that moment, but I was thinking "I'm just being paranoid, we will be back here in a few minutes". It never occurred to me that my life was about to be flipped upside down and it would be days later before I would return home and that I would be empty.

It bothers me so much that I don't know exactly when Noah died. His grave marker says "July 7, 2009" but that was the day he was born, not the day he died. It's so strange that his death date is before his birth date. I have no idea how long I carried him while he was already gone. I wish I had paid more attention to his kicks. It's agony to sit here and wish I could go back and rush to the hospital the moment after I felt his last maybe save him.

I am leaving to go to Macon with David and Ethan. I'll hash out some more of these feelings later. And I'll go ahead and say thank you for the prayers. Especially from you baby loss moms who totally understand. I'm so thankful I found you ladies. It has helped me so much in this journey.


  1. It too amazes me how different of a person you become once becoming a mother to a living baby, and then becoming a mother to a baby that has passed away. It's not fair.

    I'm sorry you've had such a down past couple of days. Comments like that... the ones that catch you off guard... are the ones that seem to hit you in the gut the hardest. Hope you feel better soon. (((Hugs)))

  2. Definitely praying for you Lisa. I know exactly what you mean about how hard it is not to know exactly when your baby died. I just wrote a post mentioning the same thing about our Mary Grace just yesterday. Her grave marker is also the date she was delivered. Sending prayers your way. Also, I know we don't know each other but wanted to let you know I am visiting my parents this week and my mom happened to see your blog while I was reading your post and commented on how beautiful Noah was. Just wanted to let you know that his little picture touches lives. Many, many people are touched when a baby goes to ways we will never know. *hugs*

  3. Lisa, please don't ever think that we roll our eyes and think "there she goes again" when you open up your heart to us. One of God's gifts to me after losing Leila was finding other babyloss blogs. It was nice to see that my conflicting emotions were normal, and others were out there to support me through this. By sharing your emotions, you may be helping someone too shy to comment. Only God knows.

    ((hugs)) sister!

  4. It bothers me too that I dont know exactly the minute that we lost Bryston. Our best guess is 3 days before his birthday, thats when we found out that he was gone, not when or how long he'd been gone. I just keep asking myself how I didnt feel his soul leave my body? Praying for a better outcome for your friend. *HUGS*

  5. My heart just breaks for you everytime I hear your story. My love and prayers are with you.

  6. What your friend said on FB is true, whether you leave with a baby or with empty arms. I imagine it is hard not knowing when he passed. I don't know the exact time but I know it was some time between the hours of 2am and 3:49am. I last heard her heart beat around 2am.

  7. I am right with you on this post, Lisa. I too am unsure of when my daughter left this world, and wish I could have gone in sooner to possibly save her life. I had had one of those busy days when you're up and around so much you usually don't feel as much movement, and it wasn't until the next morning when I found out our bad news. All we can do is ponder and wonder, but sometimes it's really hard not knowing...