"It wasn't meant to be."
So apparently my pain was meant to be? Nice.
"At least you didn't get too attached to her."
Yes, I know - that's the tragedy. I never had the chance to get to know my daughter.
"There must have been something wrong with her."
Well, we'll never know that, will we? Thanks for the reminder.
"She's in a better place now."
No, the best place is in my arms.
"Everything happens for a reason."
... What the hell ... ?
Don't you see? The words that you think make this easier or better are the very essence of what makes this painful. If you don't try to comfort me with what comforts you, then I won't try to make you grieve like I grieve. Do you really want to? Do you? Fine then, go ahead, take a look at Kyla's pictures again:
Hear her clinical silence.
Feel her arms droop on yours.
See a small chunk of skin missing from her finger and wonder if you did that or if it was already like that.
Hold her in your hands and accidentally let her head fall backwards and feel that shameful thought as you realize it doesn't matter if you support her neck or not.
Feel her beauty strangle the back of your throat and flood the inside of your chest and incinerate your eyes.
Feel it.
Embrace it.
Let it control you.
Let your mind lose track of where you are and who you are and what's being said and done around you.
Let it consume your weakest moments and darken your happiest thoughts.
Don't you see? You don't want that. Trust me, you really don't. You may wonder what it's like and you may wish you could understand it better, but you don't actually want it. You want to keep thinking that everything in your life will be pretty good. You want to be able to wake up and have the freedom to enjoy your life, unhaunted. You want to be able to look at a stranger's baby and smile, not nearly burst into tears and have a scraping desire to hold that baby and care for her. I know, because I used to be you. I used to trust in the healing power of nice words and positive thoughts and even prayer. I used to believe that time heals the pain. But perhaps now you'll understand me a little better when I say that I don't want to be comforted like you do. You want to tell yourself and me that everything is going to be okay. You want to reassure me that it's all for a reason. And it all sounds nice, but you just don't get it. I don't want to turn away. I don't want to shield my heart from the pain. I want to run towards it. I want to eat it. I want to dive straight into the middle of it and drown. I want to be tortured by it. I want to be buried in every ounce of my pain and my grief. Because at the end of the day, it's all I have left of her.
yes. this, exactly this.
ReplyDeleteVery well stated. Sometimes finding the right words is to say nothing at all. Except, I'm here if you need me. (((HUGS))) to you and yours.
ReplyDeleteI'm so sorry for your loss. I know my words can never help how you and your wife feel.
ReplyDeleteMy sister lost her son, he was born sleeping. He would have been 5 on Oct. 7. I know she feels better talking about him and she also likes to keep his memory alive everyday.
Perfectly said, every word. God bless you both.
ReplyDeleteI'm sending prayers for you and your family! My son too was still born on his birthday and I'd give anything to go back to that day to hold him once more!!! He will celebrate his 6th heavenly birthday this Dec. 29th. I feel your pain and I'm thankful that you wrote this!!! Thank you and God bless!!!
ReplyDeleteThis is by far one of the greatest posts I have read. I have heard each of these "comforts" and I felt each of your responses. Thank you for being real and true to your feelings! It doesn't get easier. The pain changes and takes different forms. Thank you for your beautiful words. -Kailie's mom, 3/16/2001
ReplyDeleteMy daughter was born sleeping February 4, 1968. No support of any kind back then, I'm so sorry for your loss, and I'm so thankful that today there are people who are there for families who go thru this terrible tragedy. Bless you and your family.
ReplyDeleteWell said..
ReplyDeleteBut truly, we cannot blame those for trying.. no matter how painful everything is. No matter how painful their words can pierce us.
You'll come to appreciate yet disgust at their attempts.. because they have not experienced the pain felt.
Now, the true disgust should be shown to those who have experienced the pain, but refused to acknowledge yours, because they've experienced something "different." Loss is loss.. in no sense of the word is it different. And pain and grief, they are the same.
I remember someone saying to me, "at least you didn't have to hold your loss in your arms.." They're right.. I held him in my hands.. because he was too small to be cradled in my arms. I dug my son's lifeless, limp body out of the toilet and looked at is perfect imperfect little body.. his little hands.. his feet. Eyes. Mouth. To this day I can still see him. Clear as day, in my head. Though the pain isn't as strong, the trauma still is. I still can't hold anything as small as he in my hand without bursting into an anxiety fit. He was beautiful. He was perfect. I still carry his first ultrasound in my glove box, because I'm scared someone will dispose of it to lighten my grief.. And I still glance at it from time to time, kiss it, and tell him how I love and miss him. I wish I had requested an ultrasound for our second loss.. but the first time I saw that baby on that monitor, was the last time. I was flooded with that pain all over again and everything was clouded.. I was ruined, again. And I have nothing to show for it.. no picture to kiss, or anything.. only a fabric heart and a little white rose the hospital had given me after the fact.. But, with that loss..I experienced true pain through the eyes of another.. My doctor, she was genuine and refreshing. She cared, but didn't say anything more than she needed. And that was relieving in its own way.
sometimes all you need is a hug, a shoulder, and silence. No words cab heal as much as a shoulder to cry on, and a warm long strong embrace.
I am so sorry for your loss, and I will not say that I know how you feel. Even though I too have lost a child two years before you on the day, I would never say "I know". Your grief is yours and yours alone. 2,5 years have gone by for us, and the grief has changed. Not as deep, not as all-consuming. But still, to this day, I sometimes miss her as if it was yesterday. I am sorry for your loss. I hope you find the strength in your beautiful family.
ReplyDeleteKyla is beautiful. Your writing is beautiful. The way you share your grief is too. Thank you.
ReplyDeleteI heard all those "words" too! Words that mostly angered me. I didn't understand, and did not want to hear all those empty "words".
ReplyDeleteMy sister wrote the following poem for me during my difficult losses. I lost 4 babies before my daughter was born and 3 after she was born.
I didn't know what "words" to say
To take away your pain
It felt like all the things I said
Were "words" just spoke in vain
At times like this, It's hard to know
Just what to say or do
People don't always understand
Just what you're going through
There is one person, though I know
Our precious God above
Who is looking down on you right now
With His over-powering love
And with this love He will heal your pain
He will bring you through this trial
And though you never will forget
He will give you back your smile
There is a promise in Psalms 37
If we will just do our part
Delight thyself, also, in the Lord
And He will give thee, the desires of thine heart
Hang on to that promise
And don't let it go
God will not fail you
He never has you know
I was angry at God and I did feel as though He had failed me. But His ways are not our ways,
He had plans for us. I eventually carried a child full term, she will be 18 in November, She was/is our blessing from God. Then in December 2009, my son was born, (not to me) but he is mine, nonetheless.
He was born addicted to drugs and 11 weeks premature, He had a twin brother that passed away shortly after birth.
He was hospitalized the first 3 months of his life! His biological parents didn't visit him at all during that time. In fact, no one did! The nurses in the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit were his visitors.
He was born with some health issues due to his mothers drug use and the premature birth. He had to see several specialists but his bio parents were not taking him to his doctor's appointments.
We started going to see him and getting him for a few days at a time. Every time we got him he was dirty, hungry and had severe diaper rash. He was living in a house with 4 adults who smoked and didn't care about his breathing difficulties, He has pulmonary stenosis.
After getting him on one occasion, he was so dirty, I was heartbroken as to his living conditions. I knew he wasn't being cared for properly and we found out the biological parents had intentions of selling him for $1500.00 to a couple who were drug abusers.
The woman had been married before and had 5 children with her first husband, one of them died from neglect, the state took the other 4.
They were going to buy "my son". I spoke to my husband about the situation and we agreed we needed to go to the courthouse with the information and see if there was something we could do.
The court gave us custody when he was 4 months old. He has been in our care every since. I can not imagine my life without him! God knew that this little boy would need a mom and dad that would love him and care for him the way he should be cared for.
I don't know if God had allowed me to carry all my babies full term if my heart would have been open to him. I have to believe that God saw him in our future and knew what it would take to prepare us for this precious little boy.
We love him with all of our hearts and he loves us. I didn't think it was possible to love a child like my own but I have found out that when a child is in need of love and care and your heart is open it is most definitely possible. It is immediate love, just like the love I had for my daughter the first time I saw her.
I am so very sorry for your loss. I do not have the words to help you through the pain, But I know a man who can help you! I hope in some small way my story can be a help and a comfort that things work out for your good.
You may never understand the loss of your baby on this side of heaven, but God does, Trust Him!
I know that is hard to do, it was easier for me to be angry at Him. I was angry for a very long time!
But now I understand!
Bless you and your family, and may he give you the strength to grieve the way you feel and must do on your own terms. I have also lost a son and do know the pain and worked in Labor and delivery and dealt with many families during this such harsh times. God Bless You is all you can say , but that even sounds cruel as why should he bless me now as he just took something so precious from me. It comes in stages with the grief and YOU and only you can deal with it on Your terms. I know as a mother the grief is so intense so hold your daughter's mother tightly she will need you as you will need her.
ReplyDeleteIt is very hard to lose a child under any circumstances. I pray that God will bless you and give you courage and strength. I know the pain too, for I lost a child at birth, full term,with Anencephaly and it is devastating. Her name was Gina Christie and an angel in my life. She would have been 48 years old on November 8th. I carry this pain every day of my life and wait to see my daughter some day. I know, when I lost my daughter, my family and friends would visit and say things like, "You can always have more children", or they also would say, "You have other children", and would laugh about it, like it was a big joke. A mothers bond can never be broken and no matter how many children you have, you can never replace the beautiful child you lost. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
ReplyDeleteI too have had childbearing losses, but I will never know your pain. But I have known pain, and my heart is open less its missing piece. Open to hear your pain. Grateful that you have shared Kayla, for tonight, through your sharing, she changed me.
ReplyDeleteThank you for sharing her with the world. I wish she could have stayed longer. much love and grief....for grief is love.
I feel every word that you wrote so deeply. It has been a little over a year since my son was born still at 37 weeks. I can only wish for you that, with time, you feel a little more at peace when you think of your sweet daughter. Sometimes I feel okay when I think of Colton, like it won't cause me to crumble. Other times when I think of him I completely fall apart.
ReplyDeleteI just lost our son Aug 13th and I could have written what you wrote! Every word is so true!!!
ReplyDeletePlease visit this site:
ReplyDeletewww.theangelofhope.org
there are many throughout the country as well as Japan & Canada...we understand your pain, regardless of age or reason every child is a gift and the pain and loss is unbearable at times....a big hug from another grieving parent.
Your words broke my heart all over again. Thank you for your eloquence.
ReplyDeleteI don't know you and you don't know me but Ijust read what u wrote and it was beautiful and brought tears to my eyes cuz it made me think of my baby I lost one year ago and honestly Idont know what to say cuz i know nothing i say will help because I'm right were u are at and know the pain won't go away Ithink of my baby everyday and dream of my baby everynight but people grieve differently all I can say is my baby is always in my heart and your daughter will always be in yours even though pain is there its still worth loving that lil angel u created
ReplyDeleteWish I was there to hug you both there are NO words anyone can say to make the pain go away but hang on to each other and hang in there just breathe
ReplyDeleteInvite grief in, sit, have tea with it, or it will never leave… take care of your heart…. xoxoxo your words are beautiful…..
ReplyDelete"No foot print is ever too small to make an impact on this world" I feel your pain and have been in your shoes, just know you are not alone in your grief- Love the pictures <3
ReplyDeleteBeautifully expressed. The phrase that got to me the most was "God never gives you more than you can handle". I respectfully disagree.
ReplyDelete