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Riftsong
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Name: Kalah
Location: Ithaca, New York, United States
Gender: Female
Interests: Ecclectic, but here are a few: Babies, Reiki, fuzz, gardening, ladybugs, cooking, exploring, rocks, rambling, left socks, nursing, odd stuffed animals, and things like that.
Expertise: Healing. Emotional, physical and spiritual. Everyone has to be good at something. I nurture the lives around me.
Occupation: Medical
Message: message me
AIM:  Riftsong
Member Since:
3/29/2006
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| I took the girls to church this morning. First time since I lost the baby because of travel and illness. Being there somehow made everything worse. I cried through the whole service and left as soon as it was over.
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| It's been almost a month. I want to write out everything that happened. It feels right to do a birth story for this baby even though it wasn't a full term pregnancy. I got to see and hold the baby, and took pictures. He's buried in my wildflower garden. That's the best I can do for now. I'll try to write the story again later.
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| This week I am saying goodbye to my 3rd baby. The ultrasound on Wednesday told us that he had died around 7-8 weeks. What I never realized before is that when you lose a baby, even very early, it's not the little body you're losing. It's everything he was going to be. I'm saying goodbye to all the times he would have nudged me for inside my womb. I'm saying good bye to all the days we would have spent together, completely inseparable. To the day of his birth when we would have looked into each other's eyes for the first time. To seeing the look in my husbands eyes when they met. To the blissful hours we would have spent curled up together nursing. To the little sibling who would have grown up with my girls. To the minivan with the third carseat. To the first birthday with the cake wiped all over everything. And all the rest that would have followed.
This loss is so immense and crushing right now I don't even know how to address it. For now I still have him with me. Even though I know he's dead I can still feel that presence. A day is coming soon when he will leave my body and it will become real. I don't know how I'm going to get through that day.
I found this website http://www.jillstanek.com/2007/03/bethanys-baby/ and I'm finding it kind of comforting to hear another mother write about her baby. I think I want some pictures too when the time comes. Even so tiny and immature, I want to remember my third child.
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| Every day brings a few more seizures, a little less movement. Her little body is failing and there's nothing I can do to help. Her parents are faltering. Some days it's all she can do to drink enough pediasure to survive till the next day. The most anxious part of my day now is entering their home, because I know that their sweet little sprite is going to be a little closer to death. She's fading so fast.
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| There aren't any right answers anymore. I don't know how much more pain I can watch. There's nothing I can do to help. No advice. No comfort. Just endurance. And it goes on. Days. Weeks. Months. No breaks, no relief. Just keep moving and the end will come. Will that be better? Prayer is a mixture of temporary balm and utter despair. Whether or not it is apparent to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Those words have always helped before. I can't see it anymore.
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