24. Artwork: Have you created a piece of artwork in the wake of your baby’s death? Or maybe someone has given you some artwork to honour your baby? Please feel welcome to share links to your own website or to other artists.
Like I mentioned in my last post, Cliff and I visited Faith's Lodge a few months after Patricia's death. One of the traditions there is the creation of a heartstone. These stones are placed on the property in remembrance of our precious babies. I have never been a very artistic person, but I love the stone I made for Patricia.
We would love to visit again someday and find her stone.
28. Special Place: This could be your baby’s place of rest. If they do not have a grave, maybe you have a special place that you associate with your baby. A place you go to, to remember them. Where is it? Why did you choose that particular place?
Patricia's special place is wherever our family is. We chose cremation rather than burial because we don't know where our future will take us and I couldn't bear the thought of leaving her behind. Wherever we end up, her special place will be with us.
About 14 weeks into my pregnancy with Patricia
30. Growth: Do you believe you have grown or are growing as a person since the loss of your precious baby? How? How do you see other people now? How do you see the world? Do you believe you have a higher purpose? Do you believe your baby had a higher purpose?
Despite my occasional low days when I just feel like giving up, I do have hope for the future. Whether it is true or not, loss moms tend to believe we cherish and appreciate our living children more than parents who have not lost a child. Our perspectives are forever changed. I believe my experience as Patricia's mother helps me every day as Anna's mother. Our daughter's death did not have a purpose, but her life had a purpose. As I described earlier in the month, our family is Patricia's legacy and we are forever changed and made stronger by the love we have for her.
19. Support: Share about what has been the best support for you since the loss of your baby. Maybe it is a special friend or family member? A pet? An organization? What have they done for you? Where would you be without them?
When Patricia died, I immediately reached out online. Sometimes I would just search Google for "stillbirth" or "stillbirth support" and click link after link after link. Some loss mamas on one forum I joined told me about a place called Faith's Lodge. Faith's Lodge is a place in Wisconsin where parents and families experiencing the serious illness or loss of a child can gather together in strength and remembrance. There are weeks dedicated to stillbirth and infant loss and we visited in June 2012. We had an incredible experience! It was so nice to spend time with people who truly understood what we were going through. We could openly talk about Patricia and hear others' stories without fear of making people uncomfortable or getting potentially hurtful responses. Most of all, it was an absolute blast. We laughed more that weekend than we had in weeks. We all needed it, and we needed to do it around other people with common experiences because no one felt guilty or like we loved our children any less. It was especially good for my husband because he needed to connect with other dads. These women and I remain connected and many of us have supported each other through subsequent pregnancies.
23. Tattoos/Jewelry: Do you have a piece of jewelry in memory of your baby? Or maybe a tattoo. Please feel welcome to share links too. I decided to get a piece of jewelry with Patricia's birthstone, an aquamarine, to wear at all times. Two days after she was born, we went out looking. We went to several department stores before heading over to the jewelry store where we purchased our wedding rings. There it was, waiting for us. A white gold ring with a heart surrounding an aquamarine and small hearts on each side with tiny diamonds and delicate scrolling. It is beautiful and dainty, just like she was. Her initials and birth date are inscribed inside. My mom had a remembrance ring made with a tiny pink diamond. Her ring also has Patricia's initials inscribed.
15. Wave Of Light: Today is October 15th Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. Light a candle at 7pm to help create a continuous wave of light around the world for 24 hours. Photograph your light!
Last year, we decided to start a new tradition for this day. Each year we will light the candle Cliff and I lit at our wedding. It symbolizes our family, which Patricia will always be a part of.
16. Seasons: Share what certain seasons or holidays mean to you now. What season did your baby die in? What season were they conceived/born in? Etc. Do you dread those seasons now? Are they more meaningful to you because of your baby?
This is appropriate because we are entering the Fall season during which, for the last two years, I have been pregnant. It began with Patricia. At Halloween we told our close friends about my pregnancy and at Thanksgiving we told extended family. When I think of Fall events and foods: pumpkin, hot chocolate, and holiday treats, I think of my pregnancies. My pregnancy with Patricia was the happiest time in my life. I was so full of love, joy, and excitement.
She died in the Spring, just after spring break. This year we were in the NICU with Patricia so we were distracted, but next year may be more difficult. She died on a Monday. The weekend before, we had taken a short road trip together, a babymoon in San Antonio to celebrate the new adventure we were embarking upon and enjoy the newly warm weather.
March 24, 2012 -three days before our world came to a stop
10. Beliefs: Do you have a certain belief about what happens to us after we die?
I initially skipped writing about this yesterday because my first instinct when I saw the prompt was "I am so not ready to deal with this yet." However, as I drove home from work yesterday my mind wandered as usual and I realized that in the end, my belief system is quite simple. I believe in a God. I believe he created our world and the living creatures in it. I also believe the only way he actively works in our world is through people who call upon him for wisdom, guidance, and strength. He does not direct life or death or control any other events. He did not direct Patricia's death (or Anna's premature birth), nor could he have prevented either. The world he created progresses and evolves naturally.
I hope there is spiritual world, a Heaven, where Patricia is loved and nurtured, perhaps by her relatives who have left this world. I hope we may one day be joined together again, mother and child. I do not talk to her but to say I love and miss her and wish she were here in the flesh so I could cuddle and kiss her as I do her little sister. Occasionally I see her in my dreams, and she is beautiful.
Me around age 2 - how I often picture Patricia in my dreams
11. Emotional Triggers: What triggers emotions associated with grief for you? Is it the weather? A scent? Photos? Places? Holidays? Words? Certain people?
I have many triggers. A song or TV show on Netflix Cliff and I watched the entirety of during my pregnancy, a Fall Festival we attended when I was pregnant, any mention of death or loss, the sight of a pregnant woman or newborn baby, a wonderful moment with Anna. All of these things bring out my own grief. I don't believe I will ever stop grieving Patricia. I will always have deep love for her in my heart, and grief is the manifestation of that love.
A TV series on Netflix we watched during my pregnancy that will always remind me of Patricia.
9. Music: This might be hard to capture in a photograph so why not post a youtube clip of a piece of music that reminds your of your baby/ies/child/ren. Why this piece of music?
Last month, I wrote about some of the songs that remind me of Patricia and have helped me in my grieving process. The post can be found here.
5. Memory: What memory do you have of your child that stands out for you the most. It may be a positive or negative memory. When you think of your child what is the first memory that comes to your mind?
When I think of Patricia, I like to think of how amazing it was to carry her for the seven and a half months that I did. My pregnancy was wonderful. I felt great and never even had a hint of nausea. My husband and I joked that I was the perfect pregnant lady. I never felt more strong, beautiful, or confident. Feeling her kicking was incredible. We loved to put on music and feel her dancing. She loved the Glee soundtrack. When I think of Patricia, I try to think of how happy she made me feel.
Being silly on our babymoon a few days before she died
6. Ritual: Do you have any rituals to help get you through the day? Maybe it is a daily affirmation or prayer. It could be that you light a candle or recite a mantra etc. Do you do anything meaningful on special dates for your baby? We have Patricia's photos all around our house. On her memory box in the living room, on the refrigerator in the kitchen, and a large collage in the hallway just outside our bedroom. Often I will blow her a kiss as I go in and out of the bedroom. I also like to stop there with Anna and show her Patricia's photos.
On Anna's due date last year, my husband and I went on a short getaway to Hot Springs, Arkansas. I have always felt more at peace when in nature and we stayed at a wonderful B&B on a lake. It was a healing trip and it was then that we started feeling ready to give Patricia a sibling. On her birthday this year, Anna was still in the NICU so we didn't do anything particularly special. We may do something different every year, depending on what feels right.
On Patricia's due date in May 2012
7. You Now: Where are you in your grief right now? How are you feeling? How far have you come? Are you wrestling with anything? Is your heart heavier or lighter now? My grief ebbs and flows. Some days, I can remember Patricia and smile. Some days, the memory of her death is like a knife to my heart and I just can't believe how cruel and unfair the world can be. I often have to push aside my grief to get through what I need to with Anna. Our journey with Anna has been very difficult and often my grief over Patricia compounds the pain. In order to be present and engaged with Anna, I have to focus on her future. I don't feel guilty about this because I know if Patricia is a spirit capable of thought and emotion, she does not want me to stop living, and she wants me to be there for her little sister. I mention Patricia often and tell Anna about her big sister, but I cannot let myself feel the magnitude of pain because it tends to overwhelm me.
4. Legacy: Do you believe your child left a legacy behind? It could be something very simple but meaningful. I'll admit it. I had to look up the definition of legacy. I mean, I knew what it means and could have used it in a sentence, but I have a hard time thinking of Patricia as having a legacy. Yes, she changed me and our family, but a legacy? I guess I've never really focused on HOW she changed me. I just know I am not the person I was before her death. The dictionary said a legacy is: something that is received from someone who has died. So what have we received? It's hard to put into words, but it all begins with love. From the moment we dreamed of her, Cliff and I loved her. From the moment we saw those two pink lines, we were a family. In planning for her arrival, we pulled on our strengths. I spent hours researching the things we would buy for her, dreaming of the life we would create together. Her daddy (the family chef) checked out stacks of pregnancy cookbooks along with books about baby's first year. Our love for each other grew as the months flew by and the excitement (and my stomach) swelled!
Visiting family in SF during 2nd trimester - so much joy!
Then, we endured what many long-married couples have confirmed to be the most difficult experience for a marriage: the death of a child. We went through a cycle which I now know is common for parents who have lost a baby. We initially clung to each other and never felt stronger. I wanted to spend every moment together because I knew he was the only one who understood what I was feeling. He was the only one who also lost a piece of his self. As the months passed and we began grieving in different ways, it got harder. Struggling with the array of feelings that come naturally with grieving, we had a hard time loving ourselves through the pain and guilt. Why did this happen to us? Did I do something to deserve this? Still, we both loved our family. The pure strength of love we held for our family and its future helped us to begin dreaming again. The changes that followed, including the desire to give Patricia siblings and a career change for Cliff, stem from this love. Ultimately, there is no reason or meaning in her death. There is reason in her life, short though it was. Our family is Patricia's legacy.
I missed taking a picture of the sunrise for Day 1. Lately, I find myself running out the door to work late because I have such a hard time pulling myself away from Anna. No matter how late I am, there is always time for a little more milk and a snuggle! Day 2. Identity: What is your child’s name? Why did you chose that name? What is the meaning of their name? If they were born, what were their birth details. What were their features? Who are they?
We named Patricia after she died. This is because we were "team green" and did not find out whether she was a boy or a girl during my pregnancy. We were considering several names, but chose together to name her in honor of two beloved women. My Grandma is the first Patricia. My husband's grandmother, or Farmor, is the first Kirsten. Patricia Kirsten is named for her wonderful great-grandmothers! My middle name is also Patricia so she has a bit of me as well.
Patricia was born at 31 weeks gestation. She was big for her age and weighed in at 4 lbs, 2 oz. She was 16.5 inches long. She had lots of dark hair like her mother and her father's wide eyes, light eyebrows, and button nose. Her fingers and toes were the most precious I'd seen and are only matched by her little sister's!
Patricia is our firstborn, our beloved daughter, and Anna's big sister. She will always be loved and remembered by her family.
Last fall, after we found out we were having a girl, we went to my parents' house for dinner and afterwards my mom said she had something for Anna and brought out a big box. I opened it up and inside was at least a dozen outfits from my infanthood! I had never really thought about her keeping them, and they were so well preserved. Mostly it was just my frilly little dresses, not everyday stuff, but she'd cleaned and pressed them all and they are beautiful. Even my coming home outfit was there! About halfway through opening them I just burst into tears. This was something completely unexpected, but since we were team green before Patricia was born I didn't dream of her wearing my clothes nor had I mourned that. I am happy Anna has the chance to wear them but it hurts so much that Patricia cannot.That moment showed me how many difficult things are ahead. So many moments that will be so happy but also so painful. I meant to post this yesterday because of the #throwbackthursday trend, but I forgot. Last week my mom and grandma did a photo shoot with Anna and put her in some of the clothes I wore as a baby. The photos are adorable but they also make my heart ache for Patricia. So, we are missing Anna's big sister but I am sure she would wear this dress better than me just as Anna does!
This is the second part of the story of Patricia's birth, written in May of 2012. We were scheduled early in the morning on Thursday, March 29th, 2012. When we arrived, the nurse took us right back to ground zero. Again, she put gel on my belly and started up the machine. I held Cliff’s hand as she confirmed that our first child was no longer living. Before coming in that morning, we had decided to try to find out whether we were having a boy or a girl. But baby’s legs were crossed tightly and we couldn’t see. We were meant to be surprised upon delivery, just like we had planned. My Dr. checked me and said that my body hadn’t made any progress on its own. This was not surprising, but could make the induction harder. She said she had alerted labor and delivery that I would arrive at 3pm that afternoon to begin the induction. She again warned me that the process could take many hours, especially since I was a first time mom and it was just too soon. Although she wouldn’t be in labor and delivery that day, she was scheduled to be on call on Friday so she would be with me all day and all night. When we left the hospital, Cliff and I tried to think of ways to pass the time. We stopped by a bookstore to get some reading material for the hospital. A few doors down from there was the AAA travel agency. We decided to stop in for a bit and do some vacation planning. At the time, we just wanted to get away. We talked with the agent about Mexico and the Caribbean, and got some magazines to take with us. As we were leaving, she asked when I was due. I broke down and we ran out and drove home. My parents picked us up around 2:30pm and we headed to the hospital. We brought our hospital bag with pajamas, snacks, water, books, and computers. I was scared, but calm. We took the elevator up to the second floor, just like we had been told to at the birthing seminar Cliff and I attend a couple of weeks prior. When we got to the maternity floor, we forgot our way and walked into the postpartum side. We asked where to check in and the nurse said cheerfully “oops, back to the other side! You’ll be back here later!” We wouldn’t. At that point I started crying and followed as we were guided to the labor and delivery side. The nurse behind the desk first motioned to the sign in sheets but upon realizing who we were, she quietly led us to our room. It was isolated, away from the others, and the staff had placed a white flower on the door to signify the purpose of our visit. We had some time to get acquainted with our room before our first nurse came to introduce herself. She brought me all of the forms to fill out and helped me get into the hospital gown and figure out how to use the adjustable bed. Then the waiting began. They had to receive instructions from the Dr. on call regarding my first dosage. In the meantime, the nurse placed a hep lock on my left wrist and told me a little about pain management. Then, more waiting. At 5pm, she came back in and administered my first dose of Cytotec. According to the Dr., I was to receive additional doses every four hours. Therefore, the waiting continued. I sat in the bed and Cliff and my parents were scattered around the room. We read through the folder of information the hospital gave us about stillbirth and talked about the vacation we were thinking of taking. A few visitors from church stopped by to talk to Mom, but I wasn’t up for seeing anyone. Eventually, Mom and Dad decided to go get some dinner. My Dr. said I could eat or drink whatever I wanted, so they were going to meet my brother for dinner and bring back some for Cliff and me. While they were gone, Cliff and I tried to give each other support and distract ourselves by reading, getting on the computer, and watching tv. At some point, the night nurse came in to check on us and introduce herself. Her name was Janet. Mom and my brother arrived back at the hospital first. They had stopped by Buy Buy Baby to pick up something for our baby to wear, a blue outfit and a pink outfit. Dad had to wait for our food to be cooked before returning. When he arrived, we ate our burgers and French fries. Then, the five of us sat in my hospital room and talked about random things. We even laughed a few times. Looking back, I think we were all in such a state of shock that we weren’t allowing ourselves to feel the weight of all the sadness surrounding the event. We were looking forward to meeting the newest member of our family. By 9pm, I was starting to feel some small contractions and it was time for my second dose of Cytotec. This time, the dosage was doubled. Not too long after that, my family left to go home. We all wanted to try to get as much sleep as possible because we expected Friday to be a long, rough day. After they left, Cliff and I again tried to distract ourselves. We discovered that reading was tough, since we would read and re-read the same sentence over and over and still not comprehend its meaning. We browsed the internet, and watched Netflix on my ipad. A couple of weeks before, we had started watching the tv show Monk from the beginning, so we saw a couple of episodes of that. My contractions started picking up, and I had a monitor on my belly so we could see them on the screen. When Janet came back for my third dose at 1am, they were getting pretty uncomfortable. I knew I did not want to “be a martyr” as the first Dr. put it, meaning natural childbirth was no longer my plan. However, I also did not want to receive demerol through an IV because I wanted to be in a conscious state of mind when my child was born. Although I knew I would likely choose to get an epidural, I did not want to get one this early because I was afraid it would slow down my labor. At this point, I was only 1cm dilated. (This is where I should have asked more questions. Little did I know, nothing could stop or slow down contractions induced with Cytotec!) I agreed to take a couple of sleeping pills. We hoped it would help me relax and possibly sleep for a few hours despite the contractions. Our plan did not work. By 2am, my contractions were very strong and painful. Cliff was lying behind me in the hospital bed trying to rub my back and comfort me as I cried out, but there was little he could do to lessen the pain. We called for Janet and requested an epidural. I did not realize how long it would take the anesthesiologist to get to us. That hour of waiting was the most difficult hour of my life. I was hooked up to the IV machine in order to receive fluids. My contractions were coming one right after the other with no break in between and they were very powerful. I was trying to remember everything we had learned in birthing class and I was yelling at Cliff “I’m breathing, I’m breathing.” I got up and walked around, I leaned over the bed with Cliff rubbing my lower back, I held on to Cliff as tight as I could, but nothing helped. The emotional pain we were both feeling magnified the physical pain I felt from the contractions. It seemed so unfair. Finally, at 3am, the anesthesiologist was ready. I signed the paperwork mid-contraction and sat facing sideways on the bed. I was told to lean over and arch my back and remain still, which is quite hard when you are in active labor! The pain of the needle shocked me and Cliff says he will never forget the face I made as it went in. Then I could feel the cold anesthetic flowing and I willed it to take effect quickly. The Dr. said it could take up to 45 minutes to be in full effect. As the minutes passed, I could feel the pain of the contractions lightening. However, there was a “hot spot” running right down my belly that was still feeling a lot of pain and the Dr. had to put more anesthetic in and have me lie on my side so it would be sure to get to that area. By 4am, the epidural was in full effect and I was able to relax. At this point, the nurse checked me and I was dilated to 5cm and fully effaced. Cliff and I decided to try to get some sleep. He and Janet rearranged the furniture in the room so that he could pull out the small bed in the loveseat, but he felt too far away and eventually sat in a chair next to the bed so he could be closer to me. Due to the combination of being tired after the contractions, the epidural, and the sleeping pills, I fell into a deep sleep rather quickly. At 7:30am, the daytime nurse came in to introduce herself and check my progress. When she lifted my sheet open, she discovered our baby lying peacefully between my legs, still in her amniotic sac. She left to get my Dr. while Cliff called home to let Mom and Dad know to come back to the hospital. I was still waking up when my Dr. came in and we were all surprised to discover that I had delivered a perfect little angel while I slept. It was if my body and our child wanted to give me the gift of avoiding the emotional and physical pain of the final stages of labor. I am grateful for that gift. My Dr. lifted our baby onto a holder. She opened the sac, cut and clamped the umbilical cord and then placed our firstborn into my arms in a blanket with tiny footprints on it. She told us that we were the parents of a baby girl. I couldn’t believe it. I couldn’t believe that after all of this, I had a beautiful baby girl, and I was going to have to say goodbye to her. In my mind I begged her to cry out and to take a breath. I begged for it all to be a mistake. Cliff captured a few of our first moments as a family with our camera. We cried over her tiny little body and I did not want to let her go. We told her her name was Patricia Kirsten. When I became calm again, we agreed to let the nurses take her and clean her up and put her little pink outfit on. Soon after my family arrived, the nurse brought Patricia back in to her family. She was in her pink sleeper and hat and wrapped in a yellow knit blanket. I couldn’t take my eyes off of her. She was beautiful. The shape of her eyes and nose were just like Cliff’s. Her lips were delicate and red. Her hands and feet were the most precious in the world. She was our baby. They told us she weighed 4 pounds and 2 ounces, and she was 16.5 inches long. I couldn’t believe how big she was, and that an hour ago she had been a part of me. Later, the photographers from the organization Now I lay Me Down to Sleep arrived to take pictures of Patricia with us. They were very kind, and we are thankful for their presence that morning. My aunt and uncle also visited us and met Patricia. I don’t know how long we spent with her. Eventually, everyone left the room and gave Cliff and I the chance to say a private goodbye to our precious baby girl. In those moments, which will never be enough, we told her how much we loved her. We told her how much we wanted her and how sad we were that we would not get to see her grow up. We told her that she would always be our first child, and that we would remember her and love her forever. And we will.
In May of 2012 I finally felt ready and able to document the details of Patricia's birth. I have never shared it publicly but knowing how much it helped me to read others' stories, I am sharing it now. On Monday, March 26th, 2012 I went to work after a wonderful babymoon weekend in San Antonio with Cliff. I was excited because I was reducing my counseling schedule to two nights a week which meant I would get to go straight home to enjoy a walk with Cliff. During our walk, I didn’t notice baby moving or kicking much. I tried to remember the last time I felt movement but I couldn’t pinpoint it because I had been busy at work that day and baby was usually more active at night anyway. After we ate dinner, I sat in the recliner and relaxed, hoping baby would take advantage of the extra space and say hello to us. I started to get a little worried when after two hours of relaxing and watching tv, I still felt no definite movement. We decided to go to bed and I tried lying on my left side because baby usually got very active at this time when I was in this position. When I felt nothing, I began to get even more worried. Being a first time mom who is also in graduate school (and thus not fully up to date on my pregnancy reading to the week), I wasn’t sure what was normal at this point. Cliff and I considered going to the emergency room, but we convinced ourselves that everything was probably fine and they wouldn’t be able to do anything for us anyway. I decided to go to my Dr.’s office first thing in the morning, just to make sure. It was a restless night. We woke up on Tuesday morning feeling grey. I convinced Cliff that I would be fine at the Dr. by myself and he should plan to bike home from work as usual. This meant that I would drop him off at work and go straight to my Dr. I texted my boss that I’d be in late because I had to stop at the Dr. on the way. I think Cliff and I both desperately wanted to believe that everything was okay, even if deep down we sensed something was really wrong. On the way to Cliff’s office, we both voiced the thought that if there was a problem, I would call Cliff and he would get a ride to the Dr.’s office from his coworker. We were both in denial. I arrived at the Dr.’s office just before they opened at 8:30am. There was no one in the waiting room but the front desk was staffed so I walked up and explained to the receptionist that I was 31 weeks pregnant and I hadn’t felt the baby move since Sunday. I knew my Dr. was at one of the office’s other locations that day, but the receptionist said they would get me in with another Dr. I took a seat in the waiting room, and even while I was sitting there, I was trying to convince myself that baby was fine. I felt a couple of twinges and thought to myself “I think I just felt something, I’m so silly for being here.” A few minutes later, a nurse called me back. She took my weight and led me back to the sonogram room where we had first seen baby on the monitor, 22 weeks ago. She put gel on my belly and started up the machine. She let me know she was just taking some measurements and then left the room to get the Dr. I continued to lie there, a terrible feeling building up inside of me. She hadn’t said “Oh, everything looks great” or showed me baby’s heartbeat like I was desperately praying for. I started praying to God and the universe to please make everything okay. The nurse and the Dr. came back in after a few minutes and she started up the machine again. The Dr. pointed to the screen and said “Here is the chest cavity. Here is where we’d expect to see a heartbeat and it’s just not beating.” My world collapsed. I gasped loudly. I couldn’t breathe. I simply couldn’t believe it. As I started to cry I asked him, “Are you sure, are you sure?” He was. The Dr. said he didn’t see any signs of bleeding or tearing, and that everything looked as it should. He said that it was probably an accident involving baby’s cord, and that there was nothing I could have done to cause or prevent it. He said sometimes these things just happen. He told me that he would schedule me an appointment with my Dr. on Thursday morning, two days from then, and she would check to see if my body made any progress on its own to deliver baby. He said that I would be induced Thursday afternoon and that the process could take a couple of days. He also told me not to “be a martyr,” to get something for the pain. He said he was very sorry. I remember calling Cliff and telling him that he needed to get his coworker to drive him to the hospital immediately. I said “We lost the baby.” I hate that I had to make that phone call. I hate that I was in such denial that I didn’t let him come with me to the Dr.’s office that morning. My poor husband had to find out about the death of our first child, the center of our hopes and dreams, over the phone. My next call was to my coworker to let her know why I wouldn’t be in the office that day, and to ask if she could tell my boss what happened. I will be forever grateful that she took that burden from me. They let me sit there waiting for Cliff, who had to wait for his coworker to get to work before he could get a ride. They brought me water and tissues, and a nice receptionist came back to comfort me and tell me her own story of her son who was stillborn over 20 years ago due to a cord accident. The whole time, I prayed for it to be a dream, a terrible nightmare. Eventually they asked me to move to a different room to wait, and I was happy to get out of that one, which felt to me like ground zero. Soon after, Cliff arrived. He walked into the room where I was sitting in a chair and he went down to his knees, held me, and we cried together. I asked him if it was a dream, or if it was real. He confirmed that it was real, though we still couldn’t believe it. When we felt ready, we left the room and a nurse led us out a back exit so we did not have to go through the waiting room. It was almost 10am. Cliff managed to drive us home safely. When we got inside, I immediately moved all of baby’s things into the nursery. Our beautiful stroller, which we had been proudly displaying in the living room, was not something I could look at. Nor was the car seat, or any of the gifts from the baby shower my coworkers held for me the previous weekend. We decided not to tell my parents until we could tell them both together. That meant we had to pass the hours somehow. After some crying and hugging, we decided that it might be better if we left the house. There were just too many memories and plans. We went to the Japanese gardens, hoping for some peace and serenity but were disappointed to find that construction nearby took away from the quiet atmosphere. Additionally, the babies and toddlers there with their families were too much for us to handle. We decided to go home and attempt to distract ourselves with a silly movie. We rented “Tower Heist,” knowing that it was a movie neither of us would ever want to see again. When 5:00pm finally came, we prepared to go over to my parents’ house and let them in on our misery. I know they were expecting some news because I had texted Dad earlier in the day to see when he would be home. I am sure that they never expected this. None of us did. They were waiting for us in the living room when we got there. They stood up when they saw us, and asked how things were. I said “not good.” I told them that I had been to the Dr. that morning because I didn’t feel baby move the night before. I said that they did an ultrasound, and that the baby’s heart had stopped beating. Mom immediately began to cry, but unlike the happy tears she cried when we first told her of her new status as a grandmother, these were heavy sobs. We cried together on the couch for a while before I was able to explain everything the Dr. had said. Dad called my brother and told him the sad news. I couldn’t talk to anyone. The next 48 hours are blurry in my memory. We survived like robots. Eating when food was put in front of us, sleeping when it became dark, and crying until our eyes dried out. We all did research about stillbirth and what to expect and shared notes. We talked about what it might be like and some of the decisions that had to be made. We received flowers from friends and family, and delicious cookies from my brother. Strangely, we looked forward to Thursday morning, when I would have another ultrasound with my Dr. and make a plan.
I strongly believe in the power of music as a therapeutic outlet for grief or any other strong emotion. When I am in the middle of a crisis, listening to particular songs I identify with helps me handle the emotions. For months after Patricia died, I listened to songs on the way to work that brought my grief to the surface. I would arrive a few minutes early and cry in my car in the parking lot. This time was so important for me. It made me feel connected to my daughter and to myself and allowed me to continue on.
Months or years later, listening to songs I identified with during a particular period of time allows me to re-connect with myself and my story. This is so necessary for me as some days I cannot believe my own story. I struggle to believe that this is my life. The following songs are, for me, reminders of my Patricia. I included the links, I apologize for the YouTube ads!
First up is Christina Perri's "A Thousand Years." This song is light and beautiful. It can be perceived as sad, but also joyful. This is what I felt for Patricia just after her death. I was angry and in deep pain, of course, but I did not direct those feelings towards Patricia. She is my precious firstborn daughter, my forever baby. This song will always make my heart swell with love for her.
All along I believed
I would find you
Time has brought
Your heart to me
I have loved you for a
Thousand years
I'll love you for a
Thousand more
Another song I listened to often on those morning car rides comes from the Glee soundtrack and is titled "Keep Holding On." I have been a Glee fan ever since its debut and Patricia was also. Whenever we watched the show or listened to the soundtrack in the car, Patricia would wiggle and kick as if she was dancing to the beat. This particular song is a tribute to my relationship with my husband. I had never felt so close to him as I did just after Patricia's death. He is the only person who has experienced what I have, the death of a part of myself.
Keep holding on
'Cause you know we'll make it through, we'll make it through
Just stay strong
'Cause you know I'm here for you, I'm here for you
Another Glee song I played over and over was "I Dreamed a Dream." This song brought out the pain and anguish I felt after my world came crashing down. The emotions I felt and still feel upon hearing this song are deep and raw.
And still I dream she'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather
I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed
Another song I often cry to is "Come Wake Me Up" by Rascal Flatts. My grief comes from my love for Patricia and in a way, crying allows me to spend time with her the only way I can. Remembering her, loving her, missing her. I accept that she is gone and no longer feel as angry, but the pain doesn't diminish.
Tonight your memory burns like a fire
With every one it grows higher and higher
And I can't get over it, I just can't put out this love
I just sit in these flames and pray that you'll come back
Close my eyes tightly, hold on and hope that I'm dreaming
Come wake me up
The last song I'll post is a more recent one, "Gone, Gone, Gone" by Phillip Phillips. I discovered this over the summer and since Anna has allowed me to feel more joy and fewer grey days, I can think about Patricia in a different way. Patricia will always be a part of our family and we tell Anna often about her big sister, but I want Anna to understand that death is a part of life and it is okay to feel good even though we have lost someone very important.
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