The Tears - A Poem

The Tears
by kk

The tears are wandering down my face
Moving slowly then running down.
Each stream moves at its own, individual pace.
Each line speaks it own, unique story.
The tears well up and overflow from a heart that is hurt.
They manifest a pain within so great it must come out.
Some burst forth fast with might and force
Some hold on then drop down.
While others are heavy and are full
And others don't make a sound.
These tears are my dearest friends at times
And sometimes they just interrupt, invade my life perplexed
Some tears hide out and hold on tight
They let me stuff them with fake cheer.
The tears kept flowing down my face
Moving even then rushing down.
Each stream has its own, individual pace.
Each line speaks it own, special story.

I Cry - A Poem

I cry at lot these days. It's annoying at times. But I try to let it come if it occurs after the boys go to bed or some other time where I can be uninterrupted.

I cry.................................. I miss him.............................. And I love him.

I Cry
by kk

I cry because I'm hurting. I cry because I'm sad.
I cry for all the aborted times and for the times we had.
I cry because the missing's so and because the missing's hard.
I cry because the pain within becomes a pain without.
I cry because a one so dear is gone and is away.
I cry because there's no other way to say what's in my soul.

My New Niece

I held my new niece yesterday.

She had a little pink headband with a tiny pink bow on it around her little head. And she has pudgy little cheeks. She's a little chunk of a girl and her mommie thinks she is just so precious. And of course she should. It's her first child.

Mommie is my brother-in-law's girlfriend, thus how she is my niece. Technically half niece but who cares about that.

When I heard they were having her, I remember being glad and then being scared of seeing her.

Andrew would have been 11 months next week. A great age span for the two to play together. But now that won't happen.

I also remember thinking about how Mark and I should go visit her and congratulate them, etc. See their newborn. But quickly was hesitant.

I couldn't help but think, how am I going to react to holding a newborn baby born on the same floor where Andrew was born. The OR is off of the wing she is in. And the gynecologist is my gynecologist. She was trying to find a good one and I just love mine. He's awesome! He delivered both Andrew and Ryan. One naturally and the other by Cesarean. So I've gotten to see his work in two different settings.

Well Dr. Houghton wasn't on duty and he didn't deliver my niece. A doctor that I only met briefly when I was in the hospital on bed rest with Andrew did the honors with her. But she did have a C-section too. So, of course, we traded war stories.

So yeah, I went up to see her. I decided to give it a try and if it was too much I just excuse myself and leave. She was quite surprised but glad I came.

The new one nestled up and fell asleep in my arms. It seems she's kind of fidgety and her mom was amazed that she slept calmly in my arms. I had the magic touch she said.

She was amazing. And, of course, I remembered Andrew. But, to my surprise, I handled it okay. I stayed for twenty minutes holding her. Invited her to come stop on by at Uncle Mark and I's house for mommy and daddy to have a break but not overnight.

I'm glad their daughter is doing well. They should have come home together today. The way it should be. The way I wanted it to be with Andrew and was delayed by 3 weeks that joy. I'm so glad for them.

I hope no one ever has to go through what we went through in losing Andrew. It's just too hard at times.............................. too hard I tell you......................... too hard.

This picture is of Andrew at 8 days old in my arms.

My Beautiful Son

I think a lot about Andrew right now. I suppose that seems odd since I thought of him often before now. I guess it's changed a bit. I think of specific memories now. Especially him as a newborn. Holding him. Snuggling with him. Kangarooing.

Kangarooing is when you undress your baby down to his diaper and holding him against your bare skin. I learned about it in NICU. The nurses told me it was a bonding technique for mothers and their babies. Very good for them and mommy. It was on the marker board in his room as a note for all the nurses to know that I would breastfeed at 4 pm every day and kangaroo with my little guy. He had lots of nurses. Just like he had lots of doctors. So the marker board was a way to communicate between all of us.

Andrew was so tiny. This little tiny precious bundle. Only 5 pounds at birth. Only 18 inches long. Oh gosh was he so cute. So tiny. His little fingers and hands were so small in mine. He would wrap his little bitty fingers around mine. His skin was so soft. He was so innocent. So precious. And he was so light. I couldn't believe that he was so tiny.

He was so small and precious. I chuckle as I think of this. Even having had 3 others before him, I was afraid I would hurt him. I was no nervous to change his diaper. I was a bit afraid to give him his first bath. It was so odd. I'd done these things so many times before. It even took Mark awhile to do these things because he was daunted by his tiny size too.

We loved him so much. We still love him so much.

He was so small he actually wore the newborn and 0-3 month clothes the others had only worn for a week or two. When we brought him home he drowned in 0-3 month clothes. It was odd but so adorable. We had to buy him small clothes. He even wore size 1 diapers for two months. So tiny.

Within the first 24 hours he peeked his little eyes open a slit to look at me. Mark told me after a week Andrew had not opened his eyes for him or the nurses. I smiled inside feeling a sense of pride and specialness. I tried to hide it since Mark seemed kind of hurt that the little guy peeked at me and not him.

This was my special bond with him. He did many things for me that he didn't show others for awhile or as quickly. And I relished how we communicated with each other just by a look of the eyes. A touch of our hands. It was like I knew what he was thinking. And often what he said to me was that he loved me very much. He loved his daddy and his brothers.

He told me that he was glad I was his mommy.

And my heart was full. I loved him so much. And I was so proud to be his mommy.

I was so proud that he was my son. My beautiful son.

No One Else

It's late.

I have gotten rather down lately. At first I thought it was just being drained for working so many late nights and long days on this project. Stress. Missing my sons. Missing friends and loved ones. Hormones. Or something.

Life has not turned out the way I thought.

I still think of Andrew almost constantly. And others who have meant so much. Well, who still mean so much.

My baby died.

My ................baby...................died.

He's gone.

I dreamt of being a mother from when I was very little. And getting married. Having a house. You know, the typical dream many little girls have.

Somehow losing a child was not part of that dream.

And if anyone would have told me that I would lose a baby I think I would get very upset and tell them they were nuts or something.

The grief group we went to, I have thought of calling one of the other women who lost a child. You know................ I read through the newsletter they send out on a monthly basis. This was the first we received.

I looked at the list of the others who lost their children. I fervently searched and contemplated which woman I would call and saw that two of them had lost a baby. I was excited to find someone that knew the pain I feel. And then my heart fell....................

None of them lost their children to an accidental death. I mean, none of them lost their baby to an accidental death. There was one couple who lost their baby to SIDS at about five months. That's so sad.................. that would be hard. I can't imagine................................

But it seems very few lost their child, their baby, their infant, to an accident. A fluke. ...........................

Actually no one at the parent's grief support group lost their baby to an accident. Lots of congenital diseases, which I know would be awful to go through. SIDS............something else that would hurt. Some miscarriages, which I know that pain.

But Andrew..................... no one lost their baby to an accident.

My little special is gone..............................

Five Months

Five months ago today I was dreading living because of the immense pain and loss I felt over Andrew dying. Five months. My gosh. It's so hard to believe. I couldn't imagine what life would be life. What it would become without my son. And here we are. Today is the five month mark.

And its Mark's birthday. I didn't remind him. It didn't seem right. He may remember. Most likely not. I say it and he usually replies, "oh that's right." I made him a birthday card and took him to dinner and we enjoyed a few hours without kids. Even struck up a conversation with the couple at the table next to us. Tomorrow we'll celebrate as a family. The boys are very excited.

It's strange. We'll celebrate. It's the anniversary of his death and we'll celebrate life.

I guess that's good. We are finding some moments of enjoyment these days. Well, I am at times anyway. I'm not 100% sure about Mark. I think he does too. He's in a lot of pain still. I feel so bad. I think he's dealt with some of it but every so often he opens up and there is such pain in his voice. Such sorrow. Sorrow that is so deep that it catches me off guard. He really doesn't talk much about Andrew and his grief. What he's thinking.

Then again I don't talk to him much about mine. It's very difficult to voice out loud. I can write about it but talking about it is difficult. But I think it's also that it's hard to feel safe with many to share something so intense and personal.

There are few I have felt totally safe with. My dear big brother-friend Terry. He's away for the next year and can only be reached by email or snail mail. Dick, my other big brother-friend. And Dick's wife. Some friends I have lost contact with. And a friendship that I cherish and hold dear in my heart.

I don't know how to talk to them either. Such an enigma. I don't know what to say and I want to say so much.

Wish they would call.

Give me a big hug.

Hold me.

Tell me it's going to be okay.

Listen.

Share.

Just be there.

So alone.

So utterly alone.