My Baby Died

I am happy to have an outlet like this to express myself…but I hate that I need this, I hate that I have a reason to come here and write about my story.

I have told my story so many times already. Sometimes I feel I’m reciting a script; the same words, the same intonations, and of course, the same ending. I went into labor at 23 weeks, I held my child, a beautiful baby boy, for 1 hour and he passed away in my arms. I heard his voice, I saw him smile, but I never saw his eyes. He couldn't open them yet. He never saw me. I never fed him, I never dressed him, I never told him I love him. But I’m grateful for the 1 hour that we spent together.

I can recite this to friends and family and keep it together. What I cannot say though is “my baby died”. Those three words, those very simple words, are so hard to say. They are so matter of fact, so direct, so real. They are horrifying.

Often, this whole thing seems like a dream. It happened so fast. My son’s birth and death happened within the same hour. But that hour, was not difficult. In fact, it was the most beautiful hour of my life. I gave birth to our first child and as scary as the minutes preceding his birth were, holding him felt like an incredible gift. It’s the hours, days, weeks, months after his passing that are a nightmare.

I remember the weekend after Leonardo’s birth. It had been four days. Most new parents, at that point, are feeding, bathing, changing their new baby. They’re watching their child sleep, complaining about their own lack of sleep, and probably a little overwhelmed by it all. But not us. Four days after our son’s birth, my husband and I were heading to the funeral home to make arrangements for our baby’s cremation. We had never been to a funeral before; our son’s funeral was going to be our first funeral.  

On our way to the funeral home, looking through the car window, I saw the world go on: people walking around the city, enjoying the sunny Saturday, having fun, carrying on with their lives. It made me angry. How can the world go on? How can these people be walking around as if nothing had happened? I know I can't expect the world to stop because of my loss...I know that is not rational. But my world had collapsed and it felt unreal to see that the world had not changed all.

It’s been almost two months since I lost my precious Leo. Some days, I feel like I can do this. I can think of my baby boy and smile. I can remember holding him in my arms and find comfort in that memory. But then, there are days when things are just so tough. People tell me that I'll be ok. But in which world is losing your baby ok?