Why does it always hit me at night? This feeling of udder loss and sadness? Why do I allow my brain to think of the things that I know will make me sad? After 3+ years you would think that I would have these types of feelings under control. That I'd be able to think of my first baby and not cry. It's always at night that the thoughts and memories come back to me. Hunter was our first baby. He represents all of my hopes and dreams. Losing him was like loosing a piece of myself.
And then come the feelings of dismay. We had our families in to see Hunter. He was only 16 weeks. He didn't look much like a full-term baby at all, he looked more like a little alien. Should we have subjected them to that? We buried Hunter in a beautiful, tiny white casket. We had a grave site service for him and we gave him a headstone of his own. Did we go too far? Did we grieve too hard?
After Kathleen lost Seth I felt that maybe we acted a little ridiculous when Hunter died. I didn't even feel Hunter move. I barely had a belly bump belly (and that was only when I was sticking it out).
He was so tiny when he was born, the nurse wrapped him in a hat. Isaac and I were the only ones to see him fully. We unwrapped that hat to see our first baby.
I remember having so much faith that everything would be okay. I had done research and I felt prepared to handle the problems and issues he would have WHEN he was born. I knew that it was a possibility that he would die before birth but I never really accepted that it would happen to us. I remember when we were at the amnio appointment. Isaac and I were joking around that pregnancy was the best weight loss program I had been on (I had lost weight). I recall seeing the nurse hand the US wand over to the doctor and I think I knew right away. Then I heard those awful words "There is no heartbeat." And just like that my perfect little world came crashing down all around me.
I miss the innocence of pregnancy. My life is forever tainted by the loss of my first baby.
((((HUGS)))) I lost my little Andrew at 14-1/2 weeks. Some of our earlier pictures he looked just like his brother, but he did start to change quickly and took on the "alien" appearance. Even so, he was beautiful and our little boy who I miss every day. It has been a month tomorrow and the days are getting a tiny bit easier, but the nights are full of panic attacks and sickness. It's hard. You are not wrong for grieving for your baby at all. That was 16 weeks that you prepared for a life with him and nurtured him. 16 weeks that you counted down the days until he was born. It didn't matter that you couldn't feel him kick...you felt him in your heart and soul. He WAS a real little boy and IS your real little angel.
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