Time keeps passing

It's hard for me to believe that Benjamin's due date is right around the corner (December 5th). Every single day I think about how much different my life would be right now...how big my belly would be, how excited I would be getting, and how much we would be preparing Max for little man's arrival. I still think and wonder, but know that things will never happen that way.

This past Saturday we participated in the Share walk for remembrance and hope at Creve Coeur Park. What a wonderful day! It was so great to see the community of women and families who all come together to remember their little ones who were taken away too soon. I was so lucky to be walking with Bryan, Max, my parents, and my brother and sister-in-law. Their support was amazing. Ben definitely got a lot of balloons from his big brother Max!!! :-)

There have been so many times lately where I have met women who have experienced what I have. It's awesome...it's awesome to connect and be able to share a common experience. The experience isn't awesome, but to have so many who I can relate to is...

I hope one day I can pass along the support that I have felt from so many wonderful women. I am always inspired by all of those who have walked this journey. It is one like no other.

So, what have I learned from Benjamin over the past couple of months...For one thing, I learned he is always with me. It's amazing that I have someone (who isn't physically with me) that can keep me grounded. I appreciate my boys (Bryan and Max) so much more. I think that Ben has slowed me down a bit and allowed me to enjoy all the little things...a great chat with a friend, jumping in the leaves with Max, and reading a new book. Life can go by so quickly. When things get difficult or I have a rough day, I know that in the end....it doesn't matter. It's all about how you treat people. One of my favorite poems I have ever read is by Linda Ellis. This is the way my son has taught me to live....

The Dash Poem by Linda Ellis

I read of a man who stood to speak
At the funeral of a friend.
He referred to the dates on her tombstone
From the beginning to the end.

He noted that first came the date of her birth
And spoke of the following date with tears,
But he said what mattered most of all
Was the dash between those years.
For that dash represents all the time
That she spent alive on earth
And now only those who loved her
Know what that little line is worth.

For it matters not, how much we own,
The cars, the house, the cash,
What matters is how we live and love
And how we spend our dash.

So think about this long and hard;
Are there things you’d like to change?
For you never know how much time is left
That can still be rearranged.

If we could just slow down enough
To consider what’s true and real
And always try to understand
The way other people feel.

And be less quick to anger
And show appreciation more
And love the people in our lives
Like we’ve never loved before.

If we treat each other with respect
And more often wear a smile,
Remembering that this special dash
Might only last a little while.

So when your eulogy is being read
With your life’s actions to rehash
Would you be proud of the things they say
About how you spent your dash?

What to say?

What to say? I don't really know. I feel that the past 2 months have been a blur. I make it. I get through the days. Lately there have been more good days than bad.

I wonder what my pregnancy would have been like at this point. I would be 26 weeks now. I would be able to feel my sweet Ben's kicks. I would give anything to feel those kicks and movements. I would give anything to feel the discomforts of pregnancy...the frequent potty breaks, the expanding belly, the aches and pains. I would give anything for it.

I know that life has to go on. I know that I have many jobs- as a Mommy, a wife, a professional, etc. I know that each and every day I have to get up and do those jobs.

But I also know that I have a missing piece of me right now. There is a void that I can't explain. There is a void that is there every single day.

I know that each and every day gets better. I know that there are some days that are worse than others. I know that Ben is with me every second of everyday.

He smiles down on me, and continues to teach me lessons that I will forever cherish. I again challenge you to look at the simple things in life. Make someone's day. Put a smile on a face. And above all of that...love hard!

Where do I go from here?

There are times that I begin to feel "normal" again. Those times are then taken away with a saddness that I can't explain. I worry every second of every day that people will forgot about my sweet boy. I can't. I don't want to.

Life goes on, and I know that, and I have to get back into the swing of things, but those are the times that I get scared that I will not remember. I look back on this entire experience with my son, and there have been so many times that I thought that I could just dream this all away. I have so much of a desire to be pregnant with him again...to enjoy those moments that I didn't get to enjoy.

I have realized a lot through this. Most importantly is everyone has a story. Everyone has struggles, heartaches, happy times, and sad times. It is not our job to judge people or their story. It is our job to listen.

The story of my Benjamin has taught me that life is beautiful and precious. I know that sounds so cliche' but it is so very true. I look at my pictures of my Benjamin every night and am just in awe of how beautiful, perfect, and sweet he was. I look at him and see such hope, and beauty.

I have been amazed throughout this journey how many beautiful and wonderful people there are in this world. I am humbled by the comments and kind words of complete strangers. I am humbled by all of you for reading this right now. I am hopeful that my son will have an impact on this world. I know he will not be the next Albert Pujols. I know he will not become the next president. I know he will not fly to the moon. But I do know this- he will touch every person who hears his story. That's the beauty of my angel. I am one proud Mom!

Finding Support...

Last night Bryan and I went to a support group for parents that have lost a child. After what I had thought had been a good few days for me, the reality of being around other parents "like me" hit hard. Hearing the stories from the men and women of their babies lost at 17 weeks, 23 weeks, 40 weeks, etc. brought tears to my eyes. It brings comfort to me to know I am not alone in this. I realize that I am not the only person to be in this dark space. Most of the women had gone on to have healthy, happy children after their loss. This gives me hope.

One of the biggest things that I felt that I could talk about last night at the support group was how much I wanted my baby. I wanted my little Benjamin more than you know. I wanted to bring him into the world, love him, and cherish him. I wanted to be his Mom. I am his Mom. There are so many people that worry about whether their baby is a boy or a girl, how much hair they have, etc. I didn't care about any of that. To know that my sweet Benjamin had a disability was a bigger reason that I love him. Bryan and I would have welcomed our sweet boy with open arms, and loved him regardless. This is what makes me angry. We are two people who have been touched by so many wonderful and beautiful people with disabilities, and been involved in working with folks with disabilities for 8 years. We would have been great at being his Mom and Dad.

Sometimes I feel that it is difficult to grieve. I met a lot of people last night who lost their first child, and my heart broke for them. I was the only person who had a healthy child prior to the loss of a baby. Max has been a gift to us since all of this has happened, but I also feel guilty. I feel guilty because my life has to go on being Max's mom. I have to bathe him, feed him, read to him, love him, etc. I love being his mom, but I feel guilty because there are times I can't focus on grieving the loss of my Ben because I am too busy being a mom to Max. I know this all might sound odd, but this is how I feel. I feel sad because I don't want to forget Ben. I don't want to forget the gifts he has given me.

So far on this journey, Ben has taught me to never take our loved ones for granted. Ben has taught me that I need to sit back and enjoy the simple moments in life. Ben has taught me to slow down. Ben has taught me that there is so much beauty in the simple things. I hope Ben can teach you these things too...

The Past 2 Weeks

So it has been 2 weeks now since we lost our little boy. The feelings and grief have been something that I cannot begin to describe. I have been sad, angry, bitter, but the best word would be numb.

Today has been especially hard....and I don't necessarily know why. Last night Bryan and I pulled out the bag from the hospital that had all of Benjamin's things in it. We looked at his footprints, his "birth certificate," his hat, blankie, etc. I held his blanket and just cried. I didn't cry for him because I know that our little boy is at peace, but I cried for all of the "could have beens" that I saw flash before me. My anger is the one emotion that I am glad is going away a bit. I was so bitter and mad at everyone. And that is something that I don't like to be! The anger plagued me and didn't allow me to go out in public, be around other people, etc. I have learned from this anger though, and learned that it is necessary in my process of grief.

The sad thing that I have realized over the past couple of weeks is that there are so many women who struggle with the pain and grief over the loss of their children. From these women I have gained strength. I have also gained a realization that I am not alone.

We have heard so many loving and kind thoughts from SO many of you. Bryan, Max, and I truly appreciate it...more than you will ever know. We are truly blessed with a beautiful and supportive family and a great and loving group of friends, and even strangers. We love you all!

I will keep you all posted on my journey. My hope for you reading this right now is that you can relate in some way. I would never hope that you would go through anything like this, but I hope you can take something from this journey and apply it to your own life. Say an extra prayer, tell someone that you love them, do something good for someone. Above all, appreciate life. Until next time...

Empty and Numb- 6/25/11

I woke up around 6am on this day, and went through the motions. I showered, tried to stomach some food, and waited until my Maxwell woke up. I tried to pack clothes for him to stay at Grandma and Grandpa's and pack a hospital bag for myself and Bryan. I didn't think I would have to have my bag packed and ready being only 17 weeks pregnant.

My Dad came and picked Maxwell up, and Bryan and I were on our way. The drive there was nothing like the drive to the hospital when we had Max. The feelings on June 25th were of dread and sadness. Bryan and I didn't know what to say to each other so we pretty much drove in silence.

We arrived to St. John's and went to the labor and delivery unit. I remember so clearly the feelings of walking in there when were going to have Max just 2 years ago....the feelings of excitement overwhelmed me at that time. On this day the feelings of sheer sadness consumed me.

I am not going to go into details of everything I went through on June 25th, but what I will say to you all is that it was the most unreal situation I have ever been dealt with. I went through labor. I went through an epidural. I went through my water breaking. I went through the pains of labor. I went through all of this knowing that the end result was not going to be a living, breathing baby.

I went through all of this with my beautiful and amazing husband by my side. I went through all of this with the love, compassion and support of 3 amazing women; Reva (my nurse), Dr. Kodner, and Dr. January. I went through all of this with the support and love of our family and friends.

At 5pm I gave birth to my sleeping baby. I found out that he was a boy. He was 2.5 ounces and 6.5 inches long. He was so tiny. He was so precious. He was our angel baby, Benjamin.

The Nightmare Begins- 6/24/11

Weeks 12-16 of my pregnancy were great. I felt the sweet movements of my little one for the first time, and boy was the little one active. I felt so great at this point, and I was settling in to the 2nd trimester. I was telling everyone the news of our little one and we were so excited!!


Everything changed on June 24, 2011 around 3:30pm. I was going to my 16 week appointment by myself (I miss having Bryan at these appointments, but I know that Max keeps him busy). I walked in and got right in to see my doctor. Everything seemed great...my BP was excellent, weight was great, and I couldn't wait to hear the little one again!


My doctor came in and we talked a while...we talked about her little one who is due in October. She had her first daughter 12 days after I had Max, so we laughed and joked about how we were on the same schedule. She asked if I had any questions or anything and I mentioned to her that I hadn't felt great over the past few days...I thought I was sick or had some kind of stomach bug. She wasn't concerned and we continued to talk as she put the doppler to my belly. The minutes ticked by as she moved the doppler all over...everytime I thought I would hear the heartbeat I would get so excited, but it never was found. Words cannot express what goes through your head at this point...you can't prepare yourself for that. My doctor didn't seem extremely concerned, she just thought my little one was being difficult. So she suggested we go into the ultrasound room and take a quick look. I walked down the hall with the most dreadful feeling in my heart...something that I cannot even begin to describe. I sat in the chair and the ultrasound began. Immediately my little baby's head appeared on the screen and I saw the sweet little body. My baby lay still on the screen. There was no movement. There was no kicking. There was no heartbeat. I felt so alone, so numb, so empty, so confused, so scared.


My doctor then uttered the words, "Oh Beth I am so sorry. We need to get you into St. John's today to get a better ultrasound." It was at this point that I had to walk out of the office and call Bryan. I called Bryan and he answered by saying, "everything good?" I uttered the words I never thought I would say, "no babe, everything is not ok. There is no heartbeat."

I then got in my car and headed over to St. John's and walked into the perinatal center. There were pregnant women everywhere, and I thought that this was all a dream. I thought I was going to get an ultrasound done, and everything was going to be fine. This couldn't be happening. I went in by myself when they called me back and had the ultrasound done. The room was silent. I looked at my little one on the screen above and saw the perfect little baby who was not moving. There was no heartbeat. The ultrasound tech kept snapping pictures, especially of my little one's neck and head. She said she would be right back and left the room. I was alone then. Alone to think about what was happening. I was alone to think about what went wrong, and what was wrong with my little one. And I was alone to think "why me?"

Bryan walked in about 20 minutes later and we just hugged and cried. We didn't know what had happened or why it happened. The doctor walked in and sat down with a look of pity on her face. She talked to us for a few minutes about what happened. She said that our sweet little one had a lot of fluid on his neck and head. She said that this was most likely due to a chromosomal problem associated with either Down Syndrome or Turner Syndrome.

She then told me that she had talked to my dr, and the only option for me was that I would have to be induced and give birth to my sweet angel baby. What? Give birth? My baby isn't alive! Bryan and I went to the conference room to talk and we decided that we would go home for the evening, see our little Max, and come back in the morning.

I talked to my doctor on the phone and she explained what the process would look like, and let me know that my induction time would be at 8am the next morning.

I left St. John's that evening feeling so numb, and sad. I was trying to prepare myself then for what the next day would bring...although words cannot describe what June 25th was like for Bryan and I.