Never give up on hope.

Archive for March, 2015

March 31, 2015

Dear Carter,

This is the last day of the month that you were born and died. After today, I won’t be able to say that you were born and died earlier this month. It won’t be a whole month, but it will be a different month. I don’t know how I feel about that. On one hand, every day that goes by, I learn to “lie” about how I am a little bit better. It hasn’t gotten easier, but it has gotten easier to paste a smile on my face and lie about how I am doing. On the other hand, I feel like every day that goes by puts more space between us. I just…don’t know what to think or how to feel. Tomorrow is April Fool’s Day. I already know that I am going to see a hundred thousand status updates from friends saying, “I’m expecting.” People don’t understand just how painful those updates can be for women that are struggling with infertility or have lost a child. I’m not going to get up on my soapbox, but…tomorrow, I don’t think that I am going to be logging on to Facebook. I love you son.

Here Without You,
Mommy

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March 30, 2015

Dear Carter,

The last few days have been sort of hectic. I was doing the Love Dare on your Daddy, but I haven’t done it in a couple of days because for the last few days, I haven’t been sure whether or not I still want to be married to your Daddy. I’m still not sure, to be honest. I am irritated with how selfish he can be, and I am starting to think that he could possibly be bipolar. He has always had mood swings, but the last few days, he has been super manic. Like…in overdrive. It’s hard to explain. He hasn’t been “bad” he has been…really good. Does that make sense? Like…too good. I don’t know how to explain it. I don’t think that anyone that hasn’t seen it firsthand would understand what I am talking about. I don’t know whether or not I believe in the afterlife or not, but if you are somewhere watching over us all, please keep an extra good eye on your Daddy. I love you so much, son.

Here Without You,
Mommy

March 29, 2015

Dear Carter,

Today, we went back over to Tony and Shawn’s house. I was pleasantly surprised yesterday when I found out that Shawn is actually cool as hell. Genesis and Kendall hit it off famously, and I think I might actually have found a female friend that I can talk to again since your Daddy pretty much ostracized Kem and Allen Michael. Your Daddy was being inconsiderate today, but not so much because HE was being inconsiderate, but because his “boyfriend” was and he was going along with what his boyfriend was doing. It’s hard to explain, but…sometimes Tony can be a bad influence. Not all of the time, but sometimes. Your Daddy’s “boyfriend” is Tony, who is ACTUALLY Shawn’s boyfriend and Kendall’s daddy. The last couple of days have been therapeutic. I actually got out of the house, and I was able to talk to someone that understands what men with PTSD actually act like. I was able to vent to her and she listened and empathized without judgment. It was good. I talked to her about you, and I showed her pictures of you. She didn’t shy away from talking about you. She just said that she couldn’t imagine what I was going through and told me how gorgeous you were. She didn’t go on and on about how she knew what I was going through. She kept it simple. We can talk to each other, and GOD if that isn’t good. I’m not “over” you, but it gets a little easier to breathe around the gaping hole in my chest every single day. I love you, son. More than the whole wide world.

Here Without You,
Mommy

March 28, 2015

Dear Carter,

I don’t have much to write today, because I am in a bit of a rush. Your Daddy and I got into an argument last night, and it was a really nasty one. Your Daddy said some really hurtful things to me, and I have some hard questions to answer. Your Daddy volunteered us all to go to his friend’s daughter’s birthday party. I don’t know anyone there, and I really don’t think that I am going to enjoy it, but hopefully Genesis will. That’s all for today, son. I love you.

Here Without You,
Mommy

March 27, 2015

Dear Carter,

I’m still pissed off about the things that were said yesterday. Pro-choice doesn’t mean pro-abortion. I am pro-choice, and although I would prefer that people CHOOSE to have their babies, I still feel that they should have the CHOICE. I wish that I could talk to every woman that is planning on having an abortion and adopt her baby. But I can’t. But what boils my blood more than I thought would be possible is the fact that people want to take what belongs to ME…my pain, my son’s death, my loss, my misery…and pervert it to support their cause. How dare they? I understand that they believe in what they are trying to force on me, and that’s fine. But if they want to sell a dead baby story to support that cause, they can have their own dead baby. They can’t have mine. They can’t have you, Carter. You are mine. You are my son. I cry for you every day, not them. And for them to try to pervert your death and memory feels like…a sort of rape. I don’t know how else to explain it. You are mine, not theirs. And for them to try to tell me what to do with my child, with your memory…it’s not right. I can’t be the only mom that has gone through this and feels this way. I value babies, and I wish I could take all the little babies that are abandoned or aborted or murdered every day and keep them and love them. But I am still pro-choice. I hate abortion, but it is necessary. Even before it was legal, it happened. But instead of taking only one life, it often resulted in two deaths because it was not done safely. And your death has nothing to do with abortion. I did not want you to die. I don’t even understand how someone could feasibly make that comparison. You were loved and wanted. You were my sweet boy. And I miss you so much. I love you so much, Carter.

Here Without You,
Mommy

March 26, 2015

Dear Carter,

Today, I should have been 26 weeks pregnant with you. Not a single day goes by that I don’t think about you. July 2 is going to be extremely hard on me this year. You were born almost exactly four months before you should have been. And that’s hard. Every Tuesday marks another week that you have been gone. Every Thursday marks another week that I should have been pregnant. Tuesdays and Thursdays are very hard for me right now.

Today, I was tagged in a post about pro-life stories. Women showed pictures of their dead children to further a cause that would rewind women’s rights by a hundred years. While the person that tagged me in the post is very sweet and didn’t mean anything by it, it got me thinking. Why is it that women that suffer child loss (especially miscarriages/stillbirths/babies born too early) are automatically thought to be pro-life? Yes, I wanted you to live. Yes, it destroys me that you didn’t. But I am pro-choice. Pregnancy and childbirth and raising children are so incredibly difficult. I cannot agree with any government MAN telling me that I don’t have a choice in what happens to my body. MEN are not required to go through the same physical, mental, and emotional trauma that is pregnancy and childbirth. When a man has to lay down and be cut open and risk his life right next to the woman that is carrying his child or has to gain weight and stress their heart and body and be injected with hormones right next to the woman carrying his child, my opinion may change. But I refuse to look a woman in the eyes and say, “Too bad. You can’t have a career now because you have to be a mother. Your body is going to go through the most insane shit it will EVER endure in the next nine months and you have no choice in the matter.” Nope. And I refuse to let ANYONE stand on my your corpse to further a CAUSE that I don’t believe in. I refuse to let anyone use your death to rewind women’s rights by a hundred years. Not just “no” but HELL NO. I love you more than the whole wide world, Carter.

Here Without You,
Mommy

March 25, 2015

Dear Carter,

I am still angry at your Daddy. Sometimes he can be so selfish. But yesterday I left him home with Cayce and I went to the store. I picked up the pictures that I had printed of you, picked up the picture frame that I ordered for you, and just walked around the store for a couple of hours. I turned my phone off because I didn’t want to be bothered. I went to the baby section and looked at little boy clothes and cried. I saw mommies that were pregnant and mommies that had newborns and I cried some more. I’m pretty sure that at least half of the people in the store yesterday thought I was bonkers. When I was picking up the picture frame that I ordered, the woman asked what my tattoo was for. I said, “My son died three weeks ago today.” She got a mortified look on her face. Then she asked the question that everyone asks: “How old was he?” What does it matter your age at the time of your death? As if your worth is measured by the amount of time you were here. And of course when I told her that you died about three minutes after you were born, her face changed again. “Oh,” she said, “that’s so sad.” But I could tell that her heart wasn’t in it anymore. A mother’s love isn’t “more” or “less” at the time of birth or ten years later. A mother’s love is always infinite, and having to say goodbye to your child is always infinitely painful. No words can ever heal that. No amount of time can ever erase that pain. No number of hugs can fill that hole in my chest. While all of me is still here, still with my girls, all of me is also somewhere else, missing you. What can ever replace a child that died? Nothing. How long does it take for the pain to stop? Forever. Saying goodbye to you before I ever got to say hello will haunt me for the rest of my life. I miss you, Carter.

Here Without You,
Mommy