I remember as a kid watching my Dad in his room reloading. The rhythmic movements of his press, smell of the gunpowder, his classical music playing, him pausing to tell me about some minor detail in the process. I remember him fixing supper and always cutting up an orange in half moon shapes with the rind on. Like that is some classier way of eating an orange? I remember him opening a beer and letting me take the first sip. I remember so many of the little things I watched my father do as a kid. I remember them because he was my hero, sure I was scared of him but that was part of his power as a father. He always dispelled wisdom in doses, often portraying it in a way which made you think and reason it over. He was not so much a 'because I said so' kind of parent but as a 'this is why we do it my way' kind of father. Sure it was frustrating to try to work around that kind of reasoning but I still tried. Most of all he was someone who would take the time to explain anything when you asked him. He knew most of the answers and the ones he didn't he made me look up. I remember these things about him because I did those things. I was his son, he let me into his life and showed me how as a son I should live it.
I think most men want a son when they start a family. Not only to pass on the name and title like some medieval tradition but to teach what their father taught them and to improve what they felt were injustices done as well. My father was not perfect, far from. He is an alcoholic with a short fuse, stemming most likely from being in the War. He has his viewpoints and feels very strongly about them, sure that is an admirable trait to have but so is allowing the other side to express theirs. But with all those shortcoming he passed down what it means to be a man and more importantly what it means to be a good person in this society. I wanted so badly to do the same with my son or sons. When Marcellus died he took that. He took my right to be a father. I became a different kid of daddy, a type of daddy no parent can prepare you for. A daddy to a beautiful angel.
Marcellus will never watch me do any project, he will never listen to me telling him stories about my childhood, he will never ask me those questions about how the world works. I will never be able to play that roll I cherished so much as a child. I will never be able to tell him about the interesting side to history that the school system so blindly looks past. I will never be able to show him what being a good person is about and why he needs to be one too.
I know more about losing a child than my mother, my father, my grandparents, and my brother. And thank God I do. I also hope that 30 years from now I will know more about losing a child than my children would need to know. I could teach my Dad what it is like to be a father to an angel but I do not want to. It is something that is better not knowing in life. I finally know something more than my Dad, and that SUCKS.
Marcellus, I wanted so badly to be your daddy on earth. To take you into this life and show you how to be a good person. I cannot do that with you ever. You are learning so much without me teaching you. I hope you teach me someday what Heaven is like. Because when that day comes I want to hear all about it! I miss you so much. I love you baby boy!
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Sunday, January 29, 2012
3 Month Birthday
Have you ever thought why we section off the first months of a babies life in birthdays? Yesterday was Marcellus's 3 month birthday. Most people will celebrate their babies 3 month birthday with at a least a little celebration that is meaningless to a baby. These birthday's are for the parents, a little self recognition of being able to keep their baby alive for 3 months and hopes for 3 months more.
We celebrated Marcellus's 3 month birthday with a lady I only knew because she was a last ditch effort to keep our son here on this earth. Patty a chaplain at the hospital we stayed at knew Healing Touch. Marcellus's Grandma also knows healing touch and suggested it. During that terrible day we would have tried anything. Obviously Healing Touch was not the miracle I secretly hoped for as I watched my babies body start to bloat and bleed. What we learned was that Marcellus was trying to stay with us, he wanted to be with his Mommy and Daddy as much as we so desperately wanted him to be with us. His body was just failing, his body could not hold his soul anymore. We were helpless, we had no way of fixing him. No way of creating a safe haven for his soul to stay.
I often how I let him get sick. We just expect babies to be born healthy and here to stay. Those monthly birthdays are just reminders that we are capable human beings performing the simple act of procreation. It is not that simple, there is so much that goes into keeping your baby here. The reminders must be necessary because it is hard work keeping babies alive, and the monthly birthdays serve as recognition of parents hard work. I will keep 'celebrating' Marcellus's monthly birthdays, especially for the first year. His mommy and I have hard work ahead of us too, but we have one more monthly birthday than most parents to recognize. That is of course Marcellus's angel birthday 11 days from now. I get to go about this next week and a half until the 9th knowing this is how short Marcellus was with me, in my trusting care. I let him get sick, I do not now how I did and know that I could not do anything to change the course of what happened but I still feel like I let him down. I so desperately wanted to celebrate these monthly birthdays with him here in our arms.
I miss you so much little buddy. Last night I sat in my car screaming because I could not possibly comprehend that I am here doing this, why are we doing this? Why do we have to do this without you? This all feels so unnatural, so beyond wrong. The fabric of my life has been torn to shreds. I wish you were here so very badly. If there was ever anything I could do to reverse this, to change our fortune I would. I just want the chance to raise you. I love you so much Marcellus, I will always love you with everything I have until the end of my days!
We celebrated Marcellus's 3 month birthday with a lady I only knew because she was a last ditch effort to keep our son here on this earth. Patty a chaplain at the hospital we stayed at knew Healing Touch. Marcellus's Grandma also knows healing touch and suggested it. During that terrible day we would have tried anything. Obviously Healing Touch was not the miracle I secretly hoped for as I watched my babies body start to bloat and bleed. What we learned was that Marcellus was trying to stay with us, he wanted to be with his Mommy and Daddy as much as we so desperately wanted him to be with us. His body was just failing, his body could not hold his soul anymore. We were helpless, we had no way of fixing him. No way of creating a safe haven for his soul to stay.
I often how I let him get sick. We just expect babies to be born healthy and here to stay. Those monthly birthdays are just reminders that we are capable human beings performing the simple act of procreation. It is not that simple, there is so much that goes into keeping your baby here. The reminders must be necessary because it is hard work keeping babies alive, and the monthly birthdays serve as recognition of parents hard work. I will keep 'celebrating' Marcellus's monthly birthdays, especially for the first year. His mommy and I have hard work ahead of us too, but we have one more monthly birthday than most parents to recognize. That is of course Marcellus's angel birthday 11 days from now. I get to go about this next week and a half until the 9th knowing this is how short Marcellus was with me, in my trusting care. I let him get sick, I do not now how I did and know that I could not do anything to change the course of what happened but I still feel like I let him down. I so desperately wanted to celebrate these monthly birthdays with him here in our arms.
I miss you so much little buddy. Last night I sat in my car screaming because I could not possibly comprehend that I am here doing this, why are we doing this? Why do we have to do this without you? This all feels so unnatural, so beyond wrong. The fabric of my life has been torn to shreds. I wish you were here so very badly. If there was ever anything I could do to reverse this, to change our fortune I would. I just want the chance to raise you. I love you so much Marcellus, I will always love you with everything I have until the end of my days!
Wednesday, January 25, 2012
Marcellus's Sunset
Why haven't I linked his sunset!
This is his sunset done in Australia by a very nice photographer who also lost a child. Part of our internet dead baby club which sucks. This sunset, along with his Molly bear, windchime back in Fairmont, angel statue are beautiful milestones. Milestones in his life, milestones which he will not be a part of. I love creating memories for him, I just want to be creating memories with him.
Life without him is such a two way street. Grief consumes everything. My life has been infiltrated by my grief for him. I looked at pictures from when we were pregnant with him but the only thing I could think of was how did I not know we were going to lose him. Those wonderful, innocent memories are gone. I want to be able to look at pictures of me finding out, pictures of us at the beach and be like 'these are moments with Marcellus.' But all I can think is wishing I could be back there, to go back in time and relive those moments. Fleeting, happy moments that I did not know what soul crushing grief is like.
But I cannot go back in time. At least not yet. I am stuck here. I am stuck living with this every day. And I do, I live with it. Grief has become me, changed me into a different man. A better man? Doubtful, but definitely different. I worry my friends and family will abandon this new me. I can recall how I acted before Marcellus, and what my friends took to define me and I think now that I will never act like that again. I have become more sincere, more real. What if my friends who knew me throughout the years say that this is not the person they are friends with and abandon me? I am so worried about that. Marcellus abandoned me, will my friends too? What about my family? Blood is forever but emotions are strong. Maybe I am making too much of this. I am letting my grief infiltrate my relationship with family and friends. I am changed, but that does not mean I need to try to change back to who I was in the past.
I need these memories of him, I need to create new ones with his name. I will never be able to cry out his name to him as he plays in the yard, to see his name written in school papers or even in finger paint when he is learning how to spell it. I am haunted that I will never hear his laugh, or hear him say "I love you daddy," I need these memories to feel like I am still being a good daddy. The best daddy in the world to my perfect little angel. Wow, that cliche never had such a literal meaning until now. I have an angel, who picked the sunset, influenced what kind of windchime to buy for his grave, and lets us know that he loves us in signs we can interpret.
I miss him, looking at his sunset does not make me miss him any less. It is not about trying to lessen my grief, it is about trying to bring him closer to me. I love my son so much and always will. I will never pass up a chance to show people how much I love him.
This is his sunset done in Australia by a very nice photographer who also lost a child. Part of our internet dead baby club which sucks. This sunset, along with his Molly bear, windchime back in Fairmont, angel statue are beautiful milestones. Milestones in his life, milestones which he will not be a part of. I love creating memories for him, I just want to be creating memories with him.
Life without him is such a two way street. Grief consumes everything. My life has been infiltrated by my grief for him. I looked at pictures from when we were pregnant with him but the only thing I could think of was how did I not know we were going to lose him. Those wonderful, innocent memories are gone. I want to be able to look at pictures of me finding out, pictures of us at the beach and be like 'these are moments with Marcellus.' But all I can think is wishing I could be back there, to go back in time and relive those moments. Fleeting, happy moments that I did not know what soul crushing grief is like.
But I cannot go back in time. At least not yet. I am stuck here. I am stuck living with this every day. And I do, I live with it. Grief has become me, changed me into a different man. A better man? Doubtful, but definitely different. I worry my friends and family will abandon this new me. I can recall how I acted before Marcellus, and what my friends took to define me and I think now that I will never act like that again. I have become more sincere, more real. What if my friends who knew me throughout the years say that this is not the person they are friends with and abandon me? I am so worried about that. Marcellus abandoned me, will my friends too? What about my family? Blood is forever but emotions are strong. Maybe I am making too much of this. I am letting my grief infiltrate my relationship with family and friends. I am changed, but that does not mean I need to try to change back to who I was in the past.
I need these memories of him, I need to create new ones with his name. I will never be able to cry out his name to him as he plays in the yard, to see his name written in school papers or even in finger paint when he is learning how to spell it. I am haunted that I will never hear his laugh, or hear him say "I love you daddy," I need these memories to feel like I am still being a good daddy. The best daddy in the world to my perfect little angel. Wow, that cliche never had such a literal meaning until now. I have an angel, who picked the sunset, influenced what kind of windchime to buy for his grave, and lets us know that he loves us in signs we can interpret.
I miss him, looking at his sunset does not make me miss him any less. It is not about trying to lessen my grief, it is about trying to bring him closer to me. I love my son so much and always will. I will never pass up a chance to show people how much I love him.
Monday, January 23, 2012
We got the Birth Certificate today. I was excited to see the letter. I have his birth certificate, he was real! I walked to the house slowly as I looked at it. Walking in the door my wife notices a changed expression on my face. She asks what is wrong and I say "deceased in the corner." Even his goddamned birth certificate is stained with his death. It permeates everything about him. Our child has been defined as the dead son. I was so looking forward to his birth certificate in being the one thing untouched by his passing. My ticket into the world that he was alive. I have the official copy of the death certificate in the state of NC I wanted him to exist living in the state as well. However it is not that. Another disappointment in my life when it comes to me and him.
Marcellus never disappointed me, not even by dying....I DISAPPOINTED HIM! I cannot do anything right! I failed to keep him alive, I failed to get his birth certificate while he was still living, I failed to put the damned batteries in the camera before my wifes first K-care with him. I failed noticing something was wrong the day he was born. I failed him so miserably. I am so lonely without him. I feel so lonely, so sad, so broken.
I hate this. I have nothing else to say other than I hate this and this sucks. I lied, I have one more thing to say. Marcellus, I love you so much I miss you more than anything possible. I love you baby!
Marcellus never disappointed me, not even by dying....I DISAPPOINTED HIM! I cannot do anything right! I failed to keep him alive, I failed to get his birth certificate while he was still living, I failed to put the damned batteries in the camera before my wifes first K-care with him. I failed noticing something was wrong the day he was born. I failed him so miserably. I am so lonely without him. I feel so lonely, so sad, so broken.
I hate this. I have nothing else to say other than I hate this and this sucks. I lied, I have one more thing to say. Marcellus, I love you so much I miss you more than anything possible. I love you baby!
Saturday, January 21, 2012
Part of the club
My professor put up a pdf of pictures of his first child. A beautiful girl at 7 lbs. He looks so tired yet so happy to have her. They are an older couple in their mid thirties just starting their family. Her due date was a day before Marcellus's. Marcellus of course came long before Emily did but I thought on some levels they were going to be the same. I do not know my professor personally but I bonded to him because we both had pregnancies going on at the same time. And our names are mike, we have to stick together. When Marcellus came early I thought to myself 'wow, I am going to be a father so much longer than him, I will be the teacher and he can learn from me!' Sadly that was not the case. He is part of this international club called fathers with children on this earth. I subscribe to the Grieving Fathers group on facebook. I know how hard it is to see your baby take its last breath. The unholy pain that follows after, the sickening feeling in your stomach as you close the lid on the casket knowing you will never see the thing you desire most in your life again. I am glad that my professor hopefully will never know those feelings. Hell he does not even know I lost my son. I just have not found it relevant to email him and say "hey dr. mike I looked at your pictures, they are awesome, congrats on your healthy baby, being able to be outside with her, taking her home, losing sleep with her. btw, I cried when I saw them because my baby died, have a good day."
Its just another reminder of what could have been, what should be, what people take for granted is such a precious gift. I want to be a part of that club so bad, I want to be the father here on earth daddy. I want to take pics of my baby with the dog, I want to send out birth announcements, I want to field calls asking hows the wife and baby. I want to go to the grocery store late at night to get ointments. I want to go to babywearing groups and learn new exciting ways to strap your baby to your chest. I want to spend long nights at home just staring at my baby. I want the dishes to pile up, laundry to back up, I want to not care about that as long as our baby is smiling and pooping. I want those things so badly but I want them with Marcellus. Until I want them for the next baby I have to bid my time, wait my turn to join the other club. Its too bad I cannot get my membership revoked to the club I belong to now.
Its just another reminder of what could have been, what should be, what people take for granted is such a precious gift. I want to be a part of that club so bad, I want to be the father here on earth daddy. I want to take pics of my baby with the dog, I want to send out birth announcements, I want to field calls asking hows the wife and baby. I want to go to the grocery store late at night to get ointments. I want to go to babywearing groups and learn new exciting ways to strap your baby to your chest. I want to spend long nights at home just staring at my baby. I want the dishes to pile up, laundry to back up, I want to not care about that as long as our baby is smiling and pooping. I want those things so badly but I want them with Marcellus. Until I want them for the next baby I have to bid my time, wait my turn to join the other club. Its too bad I cannot get my membership revoked to the club I belong to now.
Tuesday, January 17, 2012
Babies! Babies everywhere!
I feel like I am watching Oprah somedays. Everyone is in her audience and everyone gets.... BABIES!!
"You get a baby! And you get a baby! Everyone gets a baby!!!"
However I am just watching, not participating. Oprah does not have a baby for me, or at least I missed the form to sign to keep mine. But everyone else signed all the forms, initialed in the right spots, listened to the show lawyers telling them how they get to keep the babies Oprah so graciously got them. Everyone has babies, or that is what I feel like. My professor is having a baby. Probably already had it. It was due a day before Marcellus. Every other lady at Parent Care had a child except us. I see babies at work all the times. Mothers pushing their little bundles of joy around the store as they find the perfect dish to complete their wedding gifts they got two years ago. Even grief parents on the web I am following are having their babies again. I watched a video put up of a 4 year old boy who died and the second half of the video was focused on their little baby boy. I am happy for these people, even more happy than for normal people who get to have babies. Through some bizarre way of thinking I feel that people who have lost children are more deserving of subsequent children. But those are not the happy people with babies I see all around me. So many happy people participating in the ill conceived 'right' of having a child. Everyone get a baby, everyone expects a baby. It is not a right however, it is a grateful privilege.
A grateful privilege that I wish to partake in again someday when we are ready. How will we know when that is? My wife says a sign may be when we stop wishing that the new baby would be Marcellus and we could pick up where we left off. I agree with that. I do not think that Marcellus is going to come back as a do-over but I worry about me being disappointed in any subsequent children that they will not be able to fit the perfect image that I have made for my son. If our children survive past infancy and we are grateful enough watch them grow up I know they will make mistakes, and I will make mistakes with them. They will disappoint me some point in my life. Marcellus never disappointed me, I cannot be disappointed at him for dying, that would be unfair to him. He is perfect in every way to me. A grief book stated that grieving parents often transform their dead infants into saints. And that is true, you have to die to be a saint. Even Marcellus's uncle is calling him the patron saint of time.
I know Marcellus is not crawling around the streets of heaven garbed in the robes of sainthood. There are no Cathedrals being built in Italy or Ireland to house his bones. Marcellus is just another baby, one given to us not by Oprah but God. We did sign the forms, we did initial in all the right spots. We just never wanted to sign those forms giving him back to God.
"You get a baby! And you get a baby! Everyone gets a baby!!!"
However I am just watching, not participating. Oprah does not have a baby for me, or at least I missed the form to sign to keep mine. But everyone else signed all the forms, initialed in the right spots, listened to the show lawyers telling them how they get to keep the babies Oprah so graciously got them. Everyone has babies, or that is what I feel like. My professor is having a baby. Probably already had it. It was due a day before Marcellus. Every other lady at Parent Care had a child except us. I see babies at work all the times. Mothers pushing their little bundles of joy around the store as they find the perfect dish to complete their wedding gifts they got two years ago. Even grief parents on the web I am following are having their babies again. I watched a video put up of a 4 year old boy who died and the second half of the video was focused on their little baby boy. I am happy for these people, even more happy than for normal people who get to have babies. Through some bizarre way of thinking I feel that people who have lost children are more deserving of subsequent children. But those are not the happy people with babies I see all around me. So many happy people participating in the ill conceived 'right' of having a child. Everyone get a baby, everyone expects a baby. It is not a right however, it is a grateful privilege.
A grateful privilege that I wish to partake in again someday when we are ready. How will we know when that is? My wife says a sign may be when we stop wishing that the new baby would be Marcellus and we could pick up where we left off. I agree with that. I do not think that Marcellus is going to come back as a do-over but I worry about me being disappointed in any subsequent children that they will not be able to fit the perfect image that I have made for my son. If our children survive past infancy and we are grateful enough watch them grow up I know they will make mistakes, and I will make mistakes with them. They will disappoint me some point in my life. Marcellus never disappointed me, I cannot be disappointed at him for dying, that would be unfair to him. He is perfect in every way to me. A grief book stated that grieving parents often transform their dead infants into saints. And that is true, you have to die to be a saint. Even Marcellus's uncle is calling him the patron saint of time.
I know Marcellus is not crawling around the streets of heaven garbed in the robes of sainthood. There are no Cathedrals being built in Italy or Ireland to house his bones. Marcellus is just another baby, one given to us not by Oprah but God. We did sign the forms, we did initial in all the right spots. We just never wanted to sign those forms giving him back to God.
Saturday, January 14, 2012
Others
There is us, my wife and I, and others. I feel so isolated, I do not know my life before he was born, that seems so far away. Being back in school reminds me of it a little. How much work I put into school while working, CNA class, taking care of a dog and pregnant wife boggles me. I still have a lot of work to do now, but it is not the same. You would have taken up all of my time, and you still do. There are times where I cannot do anything else but sit and be worthless. I am not as productive at work, school I care less about. I do not wish to take CNA class again, to add another level of stress on my life. I will just take the test.
Tomorrow is your due date, I was so busy yesterday with work and school I did not get a chance to really grieve over you. I did not cry yesterday, I feel like such a bad person. The night before I cried a lot as my emotions just boiled over. It was rather sudden and all consuming the night before, like a teapot working itself up to a whistle. Once the water got hot enough inside it all hell broke loose. That is how I felt. I was cruising along the whole day ok until bedtime when I just started to get really disconnected and I needed to go upstairs and talk to my son. I grabbed his picture and started to cry and then had a fit of anger which included a lot of yelling, sobbing, and throwing of plastic buckets in empty bathtubs. I am not better, I am not ok. I am in grief. I felt better after having a breakdown, sometimes mommies and daddies need to breakdown like that.
These are all tangents to what is really bothering me. What is bothering me is today. I have to get off this couch in 15 minutes and put my work clothes on and go take care of shoppers. I have to walk around and parlay to their needs. I have to put Marcellus on my 'shelf' until I can come back to him. It is Saturday morning and all the happy families are going to be out. I am going to see all the unhappy fathers who have to spend their precious weekend day in a store surrounded by the babies they never get to see since they work so much during the week. I am going to sit there and envy every single one of them. I am going to think of how big you would be. I am going to think of in a parallel universe mommy would be sending me pictures of you to keep me going. She still sends me messages but she cannot send a picture of you doing something cute because you are dead. I wonder if I will make it today. Some days nothing seems important, just my family.
Tomorrow is Marcellus's due date. We highly doubt he would have gone to term but it still is another date in his life. What it really means to me is that he has been dead for 2 months and he was not even suppose to be born yet based on a little flip wheel. DEAD FOR TWO FUCKING MONTHS! You have to be shitting me, this is so not real. This is so messed up. This is so not fair. This sucks so goddamned bad! I hate this so much.
Marcellus,
I do not mean to swear. I have been trying not to swear to be a better person for you. To try to live his life like I would have if you were here with him safe in my arms. But I just needs to sometimes. I have a lot of anger over your death which releases itself slowly. I just miss you so damned much. I am so afraid of today, that I cannot do it some days. Your due date is tomorrow, why are you dead? Why are you dead for so damned long that there are new people at group, people who have had their children die AFTER you did. You are suppose to be so brand new, so young, so innocent. You are suppose to be the wonderful announcement of facebook and the subject of so many heartfelt congratulations! You are not suppose to exist in this blog, this blog is not suppose to be here! I am not suppose to know Colin, Cooper, Hazel, Miracle, Ashlynn, Zachary, Samuel, Wyatt, and anyone else I missed. I am not suppose to know any of them! I am suppose to know you all chubby, smiling, and crying. It hurts so much to think about what I could know, what another life would have in store for me. The life that we planned out with you. My heart pours out for you, just bleeding all over, this wound cannot be patched, it has to heal on its own. Oh baby I hurt so bad for you, I miss you so very much. I need you so bad. This sucks this sucks this absolutely FUCKING sucks! I love you so much, no swearing in heaven! I love you baby boy, I love you son. You are my everything! I love you so very very much!
Tomorrow is your due date, I was so busy yesterday with work and school I did not get a chance to really grieve over you. I did not cry yesterday, I feel like such a bad person. The night before I cried a lot as my emotions just boiled over. It was rather sudden and all consuming the night before, like a teapot working itself up to a whistle. Once the water got hot enough inside it all hell broke loose. That is how I felt. I was cruising along the whole day ok until bedtime when I just started to get really disconnected and I needed to go upstairs and talk to my son. I grabbed his picture and started to cry and then had a fit of anger which included a lot of yelling, sobbing, and throwing of plastic buckets in empty bathtubs. I am not better, I am not ok. I am in grief. I felt better after having a breakdown, sometimes mommies and daddies need to breakdown like that.
These are all tangents to what is really bothering me. What is bothering me is today. I have to get off this couch in 15 minutes and put my work clothes on and go take care of shoppers. I have to walk around and parlay to their needs. I have to put Marcellus on my 'shelf' until I can come back to him. It is Saturday morning and all the happy families are going to be out. I am going to see all the unhappy fathers who have to spend their precious weekend day in a store surrounded by the babies they never get to see since they work so much during the week. I am going to sit there and envy every single one of them. I am going to think of how big you would be. I am going to think of in a parallel universe mommy would be sending me pictures of you to keep me going. She still sends me messages but she cannot send a picture of you doing something cute because you are dead. I wonder if I will make it today. Some days nothing seems important, just my family.
Tomorrow is Marcellus's due date. We highly doubt he would have gone to term but it still is another date in his life. What it really means to me is that he has been dead for 2 months and he was not even suppose to be born yet based on a little flip wheel. DEAD FOR TWO FUCKING MONTHS! You have to be shitting me, this is so not real. This is so messed up. This is so not fair. This sucks so goddamned bad! I hate this so much.
Marcellus,
I do not mean to swear. I have been trying not to swear to be a better person for you. To try to live his life like I would have if you were here with him safe in my arms. But I just needs to sometimes. I have a lot of anger over your death which releases itself slowly. I just miss you so damned much. I am so afraid of today, that I cannot do it some days. Your due date is tomorrow, why are you dead? Why are you dead for so damned long that there are new people at group, people who have had their children die AFTER you did. You are suppose to be so brand new, so young, so innocent. You are suppose to be the wonderful announcement of facebook and the subject of so many heartfelt congratulations! You are not suppose to exist in this blog, this blog is not suppose to be here! I am not suppose to know Colin, Cooper, Hazel, Miracle, Ashlynn, Zachary, Samuel, Wyatt, and anyone else I missed. I am not suppose to know any of them! I am suppose to know you all chubby, smiling, and crying. It hurts so much to think about what I could know, what another life would have in store for me. The life that we planned out with you. My heart pours out for you, just bleeding all over, this wound cannot be patched, it has to heal on its own. Oh baby I hurt so bad for you, I miss you so very much. I need you so bad. This sucks this sucks this absolutely FUCKING sucks! I love you so much, no swearing in heaven! I love you baby boy, I love you son. You are my everything! I love you so very very much!
Thursday, January 12, 2012
The effects of the meeting
The meeting came and went, I went to work, my wife went to do research. We sat down with the doctor not knowing what to expect. We were called in by his nurse after Morgan had a phone consultation from another doctor in the practice. We were wondering if he found something out about our delivery or Marcellus that they missed before, the magical piece that would tie this all together. That is what we were hoping for, kinda.
Before the meeting his death remained a mystery, the blood clot caused the NEC which in turn killed him. But what caused the blood clot? The neonatologist said a 'cascade of events triggered the blood clot.' What cascade of events? Physical events, biological events? We were not grabbing him and flipping him around the room like a bunch of circus performers, we do not know what those cascade of events could ever be. What about the premature birth, sure 50% of premature birth is undefined. It just happens. No it just does not happen, SOMETHING happens, but we do not know yet. We do not know medical science well enough to explain half of premature birth, why babies get NEC, or why he got blood clots.
Going into the meeting I was hoping for "this is why you went into labor, which was a cause of his blood clots, and this is how you stop it for next time." That would have answered all my 'how' questions in one fell swoop. Of course not the 'why' questions that I ask every day. On the other side we could have found out that my wife delivered early because of a condition that would present itself in every pregnancy hereafter and our babies lives would always be in jeopardy like Marcellus. That would have been the answers I would not want to find out. What we really found out is Marcellus was born early because 50% of preterm labor just happens, it is unexplained. We know what we are doing for next time, weekly progesterone shots which will reduce the chance of preterm labor by 70% in her. We will also have weekly cervical ultrasounds to check the cervix length to see if she has a degree of cervical inefficiency. This is the plan of the Maternal Fetal specialist at the largest hospital in Raleigh. The same hospital that Marcellus delivered at, stayed, and unfortunately died in. This is not the plan of some family doctor who has no idea about birth, we talked with the Dr. who knew more about preterm labor than anyone in this city probably. I have confidence in him. Not an arrogant confidence that we will never deliver prematurely again but a confidence that it MIGHT not happen again. Before the meeting I was sure we would be plagued forever by NICU's, preemie clothes, and breathing machines. A big fear of mine now. But I need to keep it in my mind that it could happen again, or we could lose our baby even before its born. Speaking of our baby he said we could have one 18-24 months after Marcellus was born. That would mean trying for one the second half of this year.
I want a baby, do not get me wrong. I want a baby so bad it eclipses any want I ever had, the Nintendo, going to a certain college, turning 21, the wedding, all pale in comparison to wanting a baby. I want a child with my wife, I want us to be a family....on this earth. But I do not want a child before we are ready. I need to grieve for Marcellus, I need to think about him as my ever being and not as my past. I do not want to be secretly hoping that our future baby is actually Marcellus and we would get the chance to raise him we so desperately yearn for every day. It would be unfair to both Marcellus and our new child to try too soon. We just know what we are to do when we are ready.
I am still a father, I do not need a baby on this earth to show me that. I just want the opportunity to teach a little child the way I feel a father should teach their child not the other way around. Marcellus taught me so much that I will never be able to thank him enough for that, I just wanted to opportunity to teach him.
I miss him so much, I love him so deeply I cannot express. He is forever my firstborn son, he resembles what is all good and wonderful in this world for me. I will always be able to smile thinking of my wonderful son Marcellus. I miss you buddy, more than anyone could ever miss someone on this earth.
Before the meeting his death remained a mystery, the blood clot caused the NEC which in turn killed him. But what caused the blood clot? The neonatologist said a 'cascade of events triggered the blood clot.' What cascade of events? Physical events, biological events? We were not grabbing him and flipping him around the room like a bunch of circus performers, we do not know what those cascade of events could ever be. What about the premature birth, sure 50% of premature birth is undefined. It just happens. No it just does not happen, SOMETHING happens, but we do not know yet. We do not know medical science well enough to explain half of premature birth, why babies get NEC, or why he got blood clots.
Going into the meeting I was hoping for "this is why you went into labor, which was a cause of his blood clots, and this is how you stop it for next time." That would have answered all my 'how' questions in one fell swoop. Of course not the 'why' questions that I ask every day. On the other side we could have found out that my wife delivered early because of a condition that would present itself in every pregnancy hereafter and our babies lives would always be in jeopardy like Marcellus. That would have been the answers I would not want to find out. What we really found out is Marcellus was born early because 50% of preterm labor just happens, it is unexplained. We know what we are doing for next time, weekly progesterone shots which will reduce the chance of preterm labor by 70% in her. We will also have weekly cervical ultrasounds to check the cervix length to see if she has a degree of cervical inefficiency. This is the plan of the Maternal Fetal specialist at the largest hospital in Raleigh. The same hospital that Marcellus delivered at, stayed, and unfortunately died in. This is not the plan of some family doctor who has no idea about birth, we talked with the Dr. who knew more about preterm labor than anyone in this city probably. I have confidence in him. Not an arrogant confidence that we will never deliver prematurely again but a confidence that it MIGHT not happen again. Before the meeting I was sure we would be plagued forever by NICU's, preemie clothes, and breathing machines. A big fear of mine now. But I need to keep it in my mind that it could happen again, or we could lose our baby even before its born. Speaking of our baby he said we could have one 18-24 months after Marcellus was born. That would mean trying for one the second half of this year.
I want a baby, do not get me wrong. I want a baby so bad it eclipses any want I ever had, the Nintendo, going to a certain college, turning 21, the wedding, all pale in comparison to wanting a baby. I want a child with my wife, I want us to be a family....on this earth. But I do not want a child before we are ready. I need to grieve for Marcellus, I need to think about him as my ever being and not as my past. I do not want to be secretly hoping that our future baby is actually Marcellus and we would get the chance to raise him we so desperately yearn for every day. It would be unfair to both Marcellus and our new child to try too soon. We just know what we are to do when we are ready.
I am still a father, I do not need a baby on this earth to show me that. I just want the opportunity to teach a little child the way I feel a father should teach their child not the other way around. Marcellus taught me so much that I will never be able to thank him enough for that, I just wanted to opportunity to teach him.
I miss him so much, I love him so deeply I cannot express. He is forever my firstborn son, he resembles what is all good and wonderful in this world for me. I will always be able to smile thinking of my wonderful son Marcellus. I miss you buddy, more than anyone could ever miss someone on this earth.
Wednesday, January 11, 2012
Specialists
Ww have a meeting here soon with a Maternal Fetal Specialist. Someone who is going to throw a bunch of words and conjectures at us about pregnancy. Morgan and I were laying in bed last night really thinking of when we could/should try again. Of course most people say "you are young, you have time for more kids." Or "have another one sooner rather than later." These people mean well but they miss the mark (I originally wrote 'full of shit' but decided to be gentle on them). I do not feel like we are young, I feel like our lives are over, that we eclipsed every chance to have a child with this one opportunity. Being a parent and then having that ripped away ripped our future from our lives. I cannot remember what it was like before Marcellus and I cannot fathom having a 'normal' life after. Any possibility of being a father to living children does not register with me. Even though it is very possible. Technically she has had 2 out of 2 pregnancies that were successful, we just do not know how/why Marcellus was born or died the way he did. Technicalities may matter to other people but for me it feels like the largest failure in the world.
When people tell us to have another child they say that because they know we are young, healthy, and want a child so bad. So they feel like they need to validate our wants and needs by encouraging us to have a child. But maybe we are not ready, sure our bodies may be but what about our psyche. We are not waiting until we can have a healthy child, we have to wait until we can have a sick or possibly another dead child. I know that sounds morbid or gross but its a reality. Any notions of normal, romantic pregnancies bearing 9 pound fat children are gone. We are in a world where babies die, we need to prepare to lose another child before we can try. Now we are not ready, that may change in 2 months, 6 months, or a year, we do not know. But for the record, preparing for the possibility of losing a child is not an open invitation to test that preparation God, Allah, Satan, or whomever else is reading this.
For now I have to get ready for this meeting with the Dr. I will update what he says about us and our future children. Wish us the best of luck.
When people tell us to have another child they say that because they know we are young, healthy, and want a child so bad. So they feel like they need to validate our wants and needs by encouraging us to have a child. But maybe we are not ready, sure our bodies may be but what about our psyche. We are not waiting until we can have a healthy child, we have to wait until we can have a sick or possibly another dead child. I know that sounds morbid or gross but its a reality. Any notions of normal, romantic pregnancies bearing 9 pound fat children are gone. We are in a world where babies die, we need to prepare to lose another child before we can try. Now we are not ready, that may change in 2 months, 6 months, or a year, we do not know. But for the record, preparing for the possibility of losing a child is not an open invitation to test that preparation God, Allah, Satan, or whomever else is reading this.
For now I have to get ready for this meeting with the Dr. I will update what he says about us and our future children. Wish us the best of luck.
Sunday, January 8, 2012
My meditation room....
Stinks of apple cinnamon.
I have been working on the bedroom that would have been officially Marcellus's. However since we were going to use a co-sleeper we were not going to be using this room as an official nursery until he got a lil older. Well he is not actively participating in living at the moment so we have to decide what to do with the room. What we really had to do was figure his stuff out.
Since Marcellus came early we accumulated a ton of stuff very quickly. A phenomenon called 'have a baby, get a ton of shit.' With him being in the NICU his short but eventful life we just piled off his stuff in the room willy-nilly. After he died and we came back from Minnesota the room became a huge trigger. My wife could not walk in there without having a full blown panic attack. I could not take more than a couple minutes in there before I started sobbing like a schoolgirl. But we kind of needed the room, with us both going to school in the Spring we would need the space to distance ourselves. Our place is big downstairs but open. I also needed a zen area, a retreat. We do not have a garage for that purpose. That meant taking care of his stuff.
If the water is cold you just jump in and get it over with. Thats what I did. I just jumped in, dealt with the shock and did it. It hurt, I cried, I threw things. I broke down over a bib, a stuffed animal that plays a lullaby as you tug its tail, outfits we bought him, blankets purchased by his Grandfather. Finally after dragging myself along I completed the task. I made a Marcellus drawer in the antique dresser that houses the stuff we will never get rid of or let the other children (God willing) use. I then packed up the stuff that had no direct association with my beautiful Son to be hopefully unpacked with joy and set up for use in the future.
It was hard to see all of his stuff in the closet. He will never use it. It is just gathering dust, waiting for its turn to do its duty. Sometimes I want to set it all up, to put the car seat in the car, take the stroller outside and go for a walk and see how it feels to be like everyone else in that other world out there. Other times I want to set everything up and take a baseball bat to it in a fit of glorious rage. But I do not dare unpack it in fear I will never put it back. Grief has a way of making you hang on to dreams longer than you care to wish.
I have cleaned up the papers and the mess, bought a filing cabinet and started to declutter. I found an apple cinnamon holiday yankee candle that I lit as I sit in the executive chair drinking my herbal tea. I have my youtube playing my Marcellus song list and the dog is laying in a makeshift bed on the floor. I need to set up some pictures so I can look at him as I work. I want to put up the one of his mommy holding him and smiling at me with such happiness that makes my heart melt. There is still work to do up here, and I may never finish, I just wanted to be in the room he should be in. I want to be able to pause and reflect on him, to appreciate the time I did have him and lament the long time I do not. The meditation room is not a healing space, it is a coping device, a way to help me travel through this grief. God I miss him so much.
I have been working on the bedroom that would have been officially Marcellus's. However since we were going to use a co-sleeper we were not going to be using this room as an official nursery until he got a lil older. Well he is not actively participating in living at the moment so we have to decide what to do with the room. What we really had to do was figure his stuff out.
Since Marcellus came early we accumulated a ton of stuff very quickly. A phenomenon called 'have a baby, get a ton of shit.' With him being in the NICU his short but eventful life we just piled off his stuff in the room willy-nilly. After he died and we came back from Minnesota the room became a huge trigger. My wife could not walk in there without having a full blown panic attack. I could not take more than a couple minutes in there before I started sobbing like a schoolgirl. But we kind of needed the room, with us both going to school in the Spring we would need the space to distance ourselves. Our place is big downstairs but open. I also needed a zen area, a retreat. We do not have a garage for that purpose. That meant taking care of his stuff.
If the water is cold you just jump in and get it over with. Thats what I did. I just jumped in, dealt with the shock and did it. It hurt, I cried, I threw things. I broke down over a bib, a stuffed animal that plays a lullaby as you tug its tail, outfits we bought him, blankets purchased by his Grandfather. Finally after dragging myself along I completed the task. I made a Marcellus drawer in the antique dresser that houses the stuff we will never get rid of or let the other children (God willing) use. I then packed up the stuff that had no direct association with my beautiful Son to be hopefully unpacked with joy and set up for use in the future.
It was hard to see all of his stuff in the closet. He will never use it. It is just gathering dust, waiting for its turn to do its duty. Sometimes I want to set it all up, to put the car seat in the car, take the stroller outside and go for a walk and see how it feels to be like everyone else in that other world out there. Other times I want to set everything up and take a baseball bat to it in a fit of glorious rage. But I do not dare unpack it in fear I will never put it back. Grief has a way of making you hang on to dreams longer than you care to wish.
I have cleaned up the papers and the mess, bought a filing cabinet and started to declutter. I found an apple cinnamon holiday yankee candle that I lit as I sit in the executive chair drinking my herbal tea. I have my youtube playing my Marcellus song list and the dog is laying in a makeshift bed on the floor. I need to set up some pictures so I can look at him as I work. I want to put up the one of his mommy holding him and smiling at me with such happiness that makes my heart melt. There is still work to do up here, and I may never finish, I just wanted to be in the room he should be in. I want to be able to pause and reflect on him, to appreciate the time I did have him and lament the long time I do not. The meditation room is not a healing space, it is a coping device, a way to help me travel through this grief. God I miss him so much.
Friday, January 6, 2012
Support for when you are drowning.
It has been a bit since I have written in here. I am sure after a while blogging becomes a little redundant. But really I have not had much to say. I have been going through this past week with appointments and school and now work for the next two days. The appointments were with counselors, a couple we met, Patty, and Parent Care.
I have a hard time talking to my friends and family about this. I feel like when I get to the phone or see them in person I have to be concerned about them, I have to direct my conversation towards them. But really I should not have to I just do. It is hard for me to open up to them because I do not want to burden them with my emotions. I know that is not logical, that our friendships and families operate on a give and take relationship and that my baby is dead, I have a right to open up to them. I just cannot shake how I feel when I talk to them, it just is how it goes. I am sorry to them who cannot feel more connected to me, I am sorry to my wife who has to shoulder a larger piece of my grief because of this and I am sorry for myself because I am not seeking the help I could use.
I do like to be surrounded by people who have done it before. I can open up to them. At Parent Care my heart just opens and my feelings spill out in front of strangers. When we talk to Mike and Karen I can be honest and ashamed. When the counselors ask the questions I can respond honestly and with a thought out answer.
I cannot open up to friends who want to listen, to coworkers who dont want to listen, and to family who seem so far away. Mike offered to meet me anytime I wanted to talk, he is 20 years out of a similar situation that I am in. He is a wonderful guy with a lot of insight but not too far from his grief that he only offers the "trust me, it will get better as you get older." He still can tap into his grief from 20 years ago and offer similarities. I am going to take him up on the offer. I really feel that grief cannot be done alone, even though the actual grieving has to be done alone, you need a dedicated support team to keep your head above he water.
Grief is drowning, you are in the ocean kicking with all your might trying to fight the waves. You quickly get exhausted. Your only option then is to ask for help or slip under the waves never to return. Some slip under the wave never to be seen again, others ask for help. It is tough to do either, to slip under or accept the help of someone else. I need help, I need to accept someones help before I slip under the waves.
My wife and I have been supporting each other, especially when we thought we were so alone in this world. When Marcellus left he took a huge part of our hearts with him and we can never get those back. So my wife and I spent a lot of time grieving together since only us knew each others pain. To each other we both represented Marcellus, we were the ones with him the most. When we held each other we held a piece of him, we held onto the memories we had of him. Now that we have left the shock and numbness and we know he is gone forever my wife is my life partner. She is the one I need to count on for the rest of my life. She shares in our memories of him, but she is not a symbol of that. Marcellus is now the symbol for me. I need my wife differently now, I need her to hold me when I need it. I feel so empty now, It feels like my soul has a huge hole in it and my energy is spilling out. My chest feels cold, a void, empty. I have to begin now trying to live with the void. To weave Marcellus into my soul and help me guide me through life with this void. My wife is instrumental to my well being, she is the first person keeping me a float, but she cannot do it herself.
I need to bring Marcellus closer to my heart. To weave him into the frayed fabric of my life. The fabric that feels like it has spent its winter in the road covered in salt, sand, slush, and dirt. Countless tires ran it over mangling it into an unrecognizable lump. I somehow have to pick up this fabric and recreate it into a life, and Marcellus needs to help me with it. Help me buddy, help me pick this life up off the road.
I have a hard time talking to my friends and family about this. I feel like when I get to the phone or see them in person I have to be concerned about them, I have to direct my conversation towards them. But really I should not have to I just do. It is hard for me to open up to them because I do not want to burden them with my emotions. I know that is not logical, that our friendships and families operate on a give and take relationship and that my baby is dead, I have a right to open up to them. I just cannot shake how I feel when I talk to them, it just is how it goes. I am sorry to them who cannot feel more connected to me, I am sorry to my wife who has to shoulder a larger piece of my grief because of this and I am sorry for myself because I am not seeking the help I could use.
I do like to be surrounded by people who have done it before. I can open up to them. At Parent Care my heart just opens and my feelings spill out in front of strangers. When we talk to Mike and Karen I can be honest and ashamed. When the counselors ask the questions I can respond honestly and with a thought out answer.
I cannot open up to friends who want to listen, to coworkers who dont want to listen, and to family who seem so far away. Mike offered to meet me anytime I wanted to talk, he is 20 years out of a similar situation that I am in. He is a wonderful guy with a lot of insight but not too far from his grief that he only offers the "trust me, it will get better as you get older." He still can tap into his grief from 20 years ago and offer similarities. I am going to take him up on the offer. I really feel that grief cannot be done alone, even though the actual grieving has to be done alone, you need a dedicated support team to keep your head above he water.
Grief is drowning, you are in the ocean kicking with all your might trying to fight the waves. You quickly get exhausted. Your only option then is to ask for help or slip under the waves never to return. Some slip under the wave never to be seen again, others ask for help. It is tough to do either, to slip under or accept the help of someone else. I need help, I need to accept someones help before I slip under the waves.
My wife and I have been supporting each other, especially when we thought we were so alone in this world. When Marcellus left he took a huge part of our hearts with him and we can never get those back. So my wife and I spent a lot of time grieving together since only us knew each others pain. To each other we both represented Marcellus, we were the ones with him the most. When we held each other we held a piece of him, we held onto the memories we had of him. Now that we have left the shock and numbness and we know he is gone forever my wife is my life partner. She is the one I need to count on for the rest of my life. She shares in our memories of him, but she is not a symbol of that. Marcellus is now the symbol for me. I need my wife differently now, I need her to hold me when I need it. I feel so empty now, It feels like my soul has a huge hole in it and my energy is spilling out. My chest feels cold, a void, empty. I have to begin now trying to live with the void. To weave Marcellus into my soul and help me guide me through life with this void. My wife is instrumental to my well being, she is the first person keeping me a float, but she cannot do it herself.
I need to bring Marcellus closer to my heart. To weave him into the frayed fabric of my life. The fabric that feels like it has spent its winter in the road covered in salt, sand, slush, and dirt. Countless tires ran it over mangling it into an unrecognizable lump. I somehow have to pick up this fabric and recreate it into a life, and Marcellus needs to help me with it. Help me buddy, help me pick this life up off the road.
Sunday, January 1, 2012
Sometimes I just need to sit and cry.
It is hard to be here, it is hard to sit on this couch with tears streaming down my face searching online for some solace with this. I miss him, I miss my son so much it hurts. It hurts through the entire core of my body. I do not always want to post on here about insightful things when dealing with my grief. Sometimes I want to sit and ramble on about what I am feeling now. What I am feeling now is alone. Lonely, completely alone. No one is reaching out to me, rubbing my back and telling me it will be ok. I do not need that. I just need to sit on this couch, drink my tea, pull up sad songs on youtube and cry. I miss Marcellus so much. I cannot believe he is gone. That he left. How can I do this without him? How can I do an entire year without my son. To relive all the months coming that he was with us. What am I going to do when October 28th comes around? Or November 9th? What will I do when these dates come when he is gone. I just need him here. I just want him here. I just need him so bad my heart hurts so much. I hate having to try to remember his face. I hate having to try to remember that he is my son. I hate having to remind myself that I am a father. I hate seeing all the successful parents out there unhappy with their kids. I want to tell them that I am so jealous of anyone with children. I hurt so bad right now. Its just full on waves of pain rippling through my body and soul. I do not know why he had to leave me. I do not know why he had to go be with God and leave me without my son. I wanted to be his father so bad. I wanted to be the dorky dad wearing the baby carrier taking him into the mens restroom to change his diaper on the koala changing station that no other father ever uses. I wanted to be the dad at the babywearing meetups. I wanted to be the dad with his baby so damned proud to have him here. To be able to hug, hold, and kiss him. I will never be able to kiss him again. He is dead, he is gone. I miss him so terribly much. I love you.
~He Lost A Baby Too~
Thank you for being by my side every step of this difficult journey. I could not do this without you. I love you very much and I love our son very much!"
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