Losing a baby

A friend of mine very recently lost her baby girl and it has brought memories flooding back to me of when I lost my baby son Teagan.

I have been thinking of the hours and days spent in bed praying for sleep to give me a few hours to forget. I remember wanting to drown out the pain by stuffing myself full of Xanax but being scared to death that if i did that, I would need the pills forever. I constantly laid there thinking that this whole mess couldn't possibly be real. I said over and over, "I am not even 30 years old and I am planning a funeral for my baby." I sobbed and sobbed until there literally were no more tears. I then lay there cursing God for my loss then the next breath begging for forgiveness fearful that I wouldn't get to heaven to meet up with my baby boy again. How do you face the rest of your life when you can't bear to face the next hour?

I remember feeling guilty because I didn't have the energy to get out of bed to care for my two living children who still needed me. I loved my husband more than anything because he was the only other person in the world who loved that child as much as I did, but hated him if he didn't cry enough or if he cried too much, or if he didn't have the energy to console me.

As my breasts filled with milk that was made especially for Teagan, I got no relief as he lay in the NICU while everyone prayed for a miracle. My stomach no longer protruded with an active baby boy who kept me awake half the night with his kicking and rolling. Instead, my baby boy lay there lifeless while I laid in my hospital bed feeling empty and hollow.

I still feel angry that my husband can't/won't go to the cemetery to visit our son because the pain is still too much for him to bear. I resent that I have to go alone but then am happy to be alone when I am there. It is my special spot to tend to, nurture, decorate and feel peace. I think now that if he decided to go I would feel like he was intruding on my special place with my son. Then I feel selfish for thinking that. After all, Teagan is his son too!

I absolutely loved every single person who sent cards, attended his funeral and was there for my family and me during that time. My son's step-mom sent me the most beautifully worded card that said something to the effect of, "As the phone calls and cards have slowly started to dwindle, know that you are still thought of daily and prayed for." That was music to my ears because as the days turned to weeks and weeks to months, I realized that the world kept turning, people went about their lives and seemed to forget Teagan.

It still bothers me that he is not a part of our families everyday conversation because not an hour goes by that I don't think about him. It warms my heart that the person who talks about him most or brings him up the most is my son Taylor. Children are supposed to be selfish and self-centered and for the most part Taylor is, but he loved that baby that he never got to know. When he counts out or lists all his brothers and sisters, Teagan is never forgotten. Sometimes as he counts them, I count in my head and am confused at his number, until I realize that he didn't forget Teagan.

People never know what to say to people when they lose someone, especially when that someone is their baby. I found myself struggling with that when I heard of my friends loss. A few things stick out to me that people said.

"You can always try again"

"I know what you're going thru."

"You can have another baby"

"He is in a better place."

While all of those things may be true they are the absolute last thing a grieving parent wants to hear. I have had another baby, and she is beautiful and amazing, I wouldn't trade her for the world. But I still yearn for Teagan. As she reaches her milestones I wonder what Teagan would have been like. Would he prefer chocolate or strawberry milk? Would he have stayed chunky like when he was born or would he have gotten skinny? Would he love coloring or hot wheels? What would he have wanted to be when he grew up?

He definitely is in a better place, nothing is better than heaven, but he never got to experience this life! He never sneezed, he will never get butterfiles in his stomach when he kisses his first girlfriend. He will never experience the smell of the ocean, the thrill of a rollercoaster or the joy of watching his babies be born.

What will he be like when I get to heaven? Will he still be a baby? Will I get to hear his toddler giggles? Will he be a little boy full of wonder? Will he be a man full of wisdom? Will he recognize me?

I know that each person deals with loss and grief differently. Me? I love talking about Teagan. I live for people asking me questions about him. Is it painful? YES! But it keeps his memory alive. It helps me heal. Hopefully, my talking about my loss will help someone else in a similar situation.