Pain

"Pain is only bearable if we know it will end,
not if we deny it exists."

-Viktor Frankl

My Child's Name

Go ahead and mention my child,
The one that died, you know,
Don't worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn't show.
Don't worry about making me cry.
I'm already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing the tears that I try to hide.
I'm hurt when you just keep silent, pretending she didn't exist.
I'd rather you mention my child,
Knowing that she has been missed.
You asked me how I was doing,
I say "pretty good" or "fine."
But healing is something ongoing.
I feel it will take a lifetime.

-Author Unknown

His and Hers

They both feel helpless.
But they each seek their own roles.
They have to find a way to cope.
To soothe their shattered souls.
He wants to take away her pain,
And make her feel safe once more.
She wants to share her tears with him,
Bare herself to the core.
He wants to make it better,
And he wants to be assured
That everything will be okay
That their love has endured.
She wants to talk some more
About their child who died.
He thinks that he's
Done something wrong,
And that is why she sighed.
She's crying once again,
And won't get out of bed.
He sees her journal perched atop
All those books she's read.
She sees him start a new project,
Go to work and watch TV.
She wonders how he does it.
How he has the energy.
But sometimes there's a moment,
When they're both on the same plane.
Sometimes, just for a moment,
Their grief seems just the same.
It's those small-shared moments
That they need so very much.
That they find each other reaching,
That they find each others touch.

-Gwen Flowers

Mothers

There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics, or money or that I have read more books but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.

I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed. I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child. I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore and discover.

I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child that my friends will not see.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love. I will be a better mother for all that I have endured.

I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend and sister because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

I have prevailed.

I have succeeded.

I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort.

I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs. I listen.

And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.

I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard.

I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.

I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes I will be a wonderful mother.

-Author Unknown

Too Perfect

The time has come to say goodbye,
But still we have to question why.
You were with us just a short time,
But you left your love and memories behind.
I tell myself it's not fair you were taken from me,
But I know your greater purpose was not to be.
In our hearts ans minds you will remain
Aside from all the sadness and the pain.
You will always be our little girl,
Too perfect for this imperfect world.

-Don Billmire

Lately

Lately I've been missing Olivia more than usual. I don't have many memories of her, so the few I do keep running through my mind. Unfortunately most of them are mixed with sadness because she was born still. It was like I was watching a movie, but was in it. Going from one day expecting a bouncing baby girl in three months, to the next day being induced and in labor giving birth to my dead daughter. I remember the labor pains, and the helpless look on Hubby's face. I remember the tears and look of pity from the nurses. This is not what I wanted. I wanted my healthy baby girl and happiness around me and congratulations. I don't know that I'll ever have that. Every gal dreams of being in the hospital bed holding her baby with flowers and pink or blue balloons around and having family visit. Slowly those dreams are dying for me. I am, however, eternally grateful for the opportunity to be pregnant, feel my baby move within me, and to have given birth. I know lots of women aren't even blessed with that, and thank the Lord every day for it. As bad as it hurt, I can honestly say I loved it because it was all I ever wanted.

This song reminds me of the day Livy was born:

Olivia's absence has been much more apparent lately. I don't know what it is. I've gotten used to everyone having babies around me, so it's not that. I don't know why, but her absence was very obvious to me on our recent camping trip. I felt someone was missing from our family. Even though I never had to care for her outside my womb I felt as though I should be chasing someone, keeping up with someone, a little almost walking someone. My arms ached for her. It was so weird to have these feelings about her. I tried to shake them because they were nonsense, but couldn't. At night I felt I should be making a baby bed in out tent. What? I mentally said. Why? There were a few times when that second nature thing kicked in and I almost started doing things like this. Then, when I realized there was no need I felt that familiar stab of pain. She's not here.

Maybe it has to due with infertility on top of Olivia dying added to the emotions of adopting. I really don't know. I know we haven't been "trying" for very long, but the more time that passes the fewer our chances are. I haven't been through a lot of things other women have as far as infertility treatments are, but I'm already tired of it. I'm tired of tests after tests and blood and procedures and doctors and waiting and waiting. Seems like the more tests they do the more things they find wrong. How's that helping?

I know other women have the same emotions as me, and life is tough for everyone, but these are mine. This pain belongs to me, and therefore can only be real to me. I'm tired of apologies and pitiful looks, although I do appreciate the concern. I just want to be like everyone else and have babies. I've always wanted this and have never wanted anything more. Always thought it'd be so easy. Such is life. The one thing you want is the one thing you can't have.

I know I have many other blessings, and have so much to be grateful for, but I'd give almost every bit of that up for a child. Just one. I just want one baby. Why is that so hard? Course if I had one I'd want another, I'm sure. But for now, oh to have a baby in my arms to call my own - our own.

My heart aches, my soul yearns, my being craves. It's hard to be a mommy without any babies.

My Tiny Footprints

These are my tiny footprints,
So perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints
Never touched the ground at all.

Not one tiny footprint,
For now I have my wings.
These tiny footprints were meant
For other things.

You will hear my tiny footprints
In the patter of the rain,
Gentle drops of angel tears,
Of joy and not from pain.

You will see my tiny footprints
In each Butterfly's lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you,
If you just give me the chance.

You will see my tiny footprints
In the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind,
And call on each that grieves.

Most of all, these tiny footprints
Are found on Mommy and Daddy's heart,
'Cause even though I'm gone now
We NEVER truly part.

-Unknown

An Angel's Kiss

We go through life so often
Not stopping to enjoy the day,
And we take each one for granted
As we travel on our way.

We never stop to measure
Anything we just might miss,
But if the wind should blow by softly
You'll feel an angel's kiss.

A kiss that is sent from heaven;
A kiss from up above;
A kiss that is very special
From someone that you love.

For in your pain and sorrow
An angel's kiss will help you through.
This kiss is very private,
For it is meant for only you.

So when your hearts are heavy,
And filled with tears and pain,
And no one can console you
Remember once again

About the one you grieve for
Because you sadly miss
And the gentle breeze you took for granted
Was just an angel's kiss.

-Peggy Bouse

Unless You've Lost A Child...

Don't ask us if we are over it yet. We'll never be over it. A part of us died with our child. Don't tell us they are in a better place. They are not here with us where they belong. Don't say at least they are not suffering. We haven't come to terms with why they suffered at all. Don't tell us at least we have other children. Which of your children would you have sacrificed? Don't ask us if we fell better. Bereavement isn't a condition that clears up. Don't tell us at least we had our child for the time we did. What time would you choose for your child to die? Don't tell us God never gives us more than we can bear. Don't avoid us. We don't have a contagious disease, just an unbearable pain. Don't tell us you know how we feel unless you have lost a child. No other loss can compare to losing a child. It's not the natural order of things. Don't take our anger personally. We don't know who we are angry at and why and may lash out at those closest to us. Don't whisper behind us when we enter a room. We are in pain, but not deaf. Don't stop calling us after the initial loss. our grief does not stop there and we need to know others are thinking of us. Don't be offended when we don't return calls right away. We take each moment as it comes and some are worse than others. Don't tell us to get on with our lives. We each grieve differently and in our own time frame. Grief can not be governed by any clock or calendar.

Do say you're sorry. We're sorry too, and your saying that you share our sorrow is far better than saying any of those tired cliches you don't really mean anyway. Even if you're more sorry that we hurt than you are at our child's passing. It wasn't your child and you weren't as close to them as we were so we'll understand. Just say you're sorry. Do put your arms around us and hold us. We need your strength to get us through each day. Do say you remember our child, if you do. Even if you just remember us being pregnant or how happy we were when we were pregnant. Memories are all we have left and we cherish them. Do let us talk about our child. Our child may have or may not have lived, but still lives in our hearts, forever. Do mention our child's name. It will not make us sad or hurt our feelings. Do let us cry. Crying is an important part of the grief process. Cry with us if you want to. Do remember us on special dates. Our child's birth date, death date, due date, and holidays are a very lonely and difficult time for us without our child. Do send us cards on those dates saying you remember our child. We do. Do show our family that you care. Sometimes we forget to do that in our own pain. Do be thankful for children.

-taken from the "Utah Share" Newsletter January/February 2008

Seasons

It's that special time of year for many
Gifts and songs and wonder plenty
Colors bright and life anew
Holiday cheer and friendship true
Yet for some, the pain of sorrow and
Not knowing what will come tomorrow
In the wake of mourning a child's death
Moment by moment they walk the path
Trying to survive grief's grip of wrath
Be gentle with them this time of year
Whom death has crossed, their cries please hear
Hearts are broken 'neath sorrow and tears
Today, tomorrow, and all of their years
Offer them gifts of kindness and amity
As they face each day of boundless calamity
Light a candle, say a prayer for those who mourn
Who cannot rejoice, their lives now torn
Remember their child and honor their pain
Share the burden and help them sustain
This holiday season, the best gifts you can share
Are your heart and your love,
Your solace and care.

-Joanne Cacciatore, PhD

Loving Pains

Yes, I am in pain.
But it is not an unbearable pain.

I want to sit with it.
I want to be with it while you still feel so close.
I want it to fill every part of my being.

It is not an unbearable pain.
It is a pain that comes from loving so much,
From feeling so much a part of the child I have born.

Nothing has ever touched me like this.
Nothing has ever found every crevice in my body and
My mind and dwelled there like you have.

This is not an unbearable pain.
It's the pain of loving you.

-Linda Nuccitelli

My Fondest Dream

"I believe in Christ; he stands supreme! From him I'll gain my fondest dream; And while I strive through grief and pain, His voice is heard: 'Ye shall obtain.'"

-From the LDS hymnal, hymn # 134, I Believe in Christ, text by Bruce R. McConkie

I Am A Mother

I've loved my child right from the start,
A feeling that's filled my entire heart.
I went through the labor and suffered the pain,
For many long hours with nothing to gain.

I've spent sleepless nights being awake,
Though it's been a while my arms they still ache.
I've sat and I've wondered of how she would grow,
The love of my family that she'd come to know.

The sound of her voice as she learns to talk,
Watching her steps as she tries to walk.
I have a child that I really love so,
I am her mother yet nobody knows.

I've spent all these months feeling her grow,
I've lived through it all and have nothing to show.
I don't get invited to chat with young mothers,
Because I don't have a baby like all of the others.

I've got some stretch marks that I'd like to hide,
but I don't have a pram with a baby inside.
The people I've known for so many years,
Avoid me now, which adds to my tears.

I don't know how long I'll be feeling like this,
But one thing I know, my baby I miss.
When Mother's Day comes it will be very hard,
I won't have any flowers, not even a card.

And just because she's not here with me,
I still have a daughter I wish I could see.
But one thing I know and this is for sure,
I'll be her mother forevermore!

-Author Unknown

My Night

My night was broken -
Split by the wail of
My baby's phantom cry.
Half asleep I stumbled
To the crib that stared at me.
Empty.

Awake.
Aware now,
I returned to my bed
With empty, aching arms.
I wondered,
As I hugged my pillow close,
And rocked myself to sleep,
If you were all right.
If you were truly crying.
If your cries had somehow traveled to me.
Or if those tears and cries
Were welling up
From a place deep within me
And spilling into my dreams.

-Anonymous

A Poem of Faith

For almost nine months we waited for you...
Dreaming, and planning and shopping, too.

We looked forward to that special day
When we could bundle you up and carry you away.

But we had to say goodbye before saying hello-
Letting go of our dreams of watching you grow.

We had never felt such pure love and grace

As we held you in our arms and kissed your sweet face.

Then somehow through the pain and tears
Your spirit came and calmed our fears.

Now in your arms you'll carry us through
Until that beautiful day when we again hold you.

We will feel such joy as we look in your eyes,
That love and laughter will replace our cries.

And together we'll kneel at Our Savior's feet,
Knowing at last that our family's complete.

-Author Unknown

Olivia's Birth Story

I was having contractions all weekend so I went in 1 day early for my 24 week check-up. Hubby went with me. My belly measured small and the doctor couldn't find a heartbeat. The doctor said she didn't want to send me home without hearing a heartbeat so we went to the ultrasound room. We saw out little girl, but she was still and so was her heart. That night we talked a lot, cried a lot, and made decisions. Per the doctor we went to the hospital at 6:00 AM the next day. We had to fill out all kinds of papers including a death certificate. A lady from the SHARE program came to talk with us, comfort us, and try to prepare us. I was induced. It made my labor start very fast and very hard. I had a few episodes of hard labor pains. While trying to give me morphine via IV the nurse accidentally pulled out my IV so I had to have another one started during some very hard contractions. The morphine didn't help one bit. I got sick a couple of times. The nurse went to get someone to give me an epidural (without asking us) because my pains were so hard. While she was gone Olivia was born at 3:05 PM with only Hubby and I in the room. We paged the nurse to come back. She paged the doctor to come to the hospital. About 20 minutes later the doctor came and took Livy out of her sack, cleaned her, wrapped her, and gave her to me. She was beautiful. Perfect. 9.1 ounces and 8 1/4 inches. Hubby and I were in love. The doctor was able to tell it was a cord accident that took Livy. Ladies from the SHARE program had made tiny clothes including a cap and a tiny quilt. They dressed and rewrapped Livy for us. After a couple of minutes it was time to deliver the other stuff. It wouldn't come. I was induced over and over again. I pushed and pushed. The doctor reached in and pulled on it a couple of times. There was so much blood. I was getting weak. After 3 hours, and no contractions, the doctor said I was losing too much blood to push any more and I had to have a D&C. Hubby stayed in our L&D room with Livy. 45 minutes later I was with Hubby and Livy again.

I was given medicine to stop the bleeding. We spent time with our precious daughter. I rocked and Hubby sang. We took pictures. She had my lips and long legs. She had Hubby's feet and bum. The ladies from the SHARE program did a foot mold for us. The whole day was surreal. It was the best and worst day of my life. Somehow I felt happiness though. It was so good to meet her. This little one I had wanted for so many years. She is and will forever be our little girl. Our 1st born. Our family's angel. We just love her so much. About 11:00 PM we called the mortuary to pick Livy up. Around midnight we were moved to a postpartum room. It was amazing to feel the immediate difference of no warm fuzzy spiritual presence in that room as compared with the L&D room. All through the night and the next day I was given meds to stop the bleeding and had my vitals checked every 2 hours. Hubby slept on a fold-out couch in my room. Much to our dismay the cleaning lady told us "Congratulations!". We were able to leave the hospital at 7:30 PM the day after Livy was born. We were also able to hold her at the funeral home before her burial. We picked out pink granite for her headstone. There will be an angel child on it.