Stillborn: Still Loved

Two years and three months ago, my son was born still. I was forced to pack away all of the tiny outfits, bathrobes and shoes that I had so carefully washed and hung up with care, for my boy. The diapers in the box in the closet, were thrown into a Rubbermaid tub, and shoved to the back of the closet, along with the most of my heart.   Yesterday, these tubs were pulled out from the back of the closet. As most of you know, I have given birth to my sweet rainbow princess, Avery Grace, since the death of Jacob in 2012. However, Jacob’s clothes weren’t needed for her.   No, this time, I attempted to give the items so tenderly laundered and packed with care, to my nephew who is scheduled to arrive in September.   Two years later, I wasn’t expecting this seemingly normal task would hurt very much. Trouble is, it did. This seeminly normal item on my to-do list was a huge task.   I was face to face with all of the cute little onesies Jacob’s grandmother had bought him, and the sweet l

It’s funny how the human mind works.   I was driving down the road, thinking about the dinner we were having that night.   Chicken fried steak, mashed potatoes.. biscuits… white gravy… good stuff.   When all the sudden I remembered a time when myself and my now ex-husband, Jacob’s Father, were dating, and I was cooking him the same dinner. I had been turning the meat in the hot oil, and took my slotted spoon out… and for whatever reason… turned it up toward the sky pretty fast, and flung super-hot, fresh out of the fryer, chicken fried steak breading on his bare chest.   I can’t imagine how bad that hurt.   But, for whatever reason, the other day it made me laugh. Hysterically (yes, I know I’m mean, and this has been over 6 years ago, BTW J )… then I began thinking about how things had changed between us, and then my thoughts turned to Jacob.   In an instant, my sneaky little nemesis – Grief was back. My mind began racing to the brief time I was on bed rest at home… guilt set in

     The two year mark is creeping closer and closer to reality. Up until today, I've really been fine. Now, it's like two years is really sinking in. I haven't seen Jacob in two years! Today, I called a florist to price a headstone saddle,specially made for Jacob's birthday. The gentleman on the phone politely reminded me that this is the week before Valentine's day and that they were really busy. His tone softened when I told him it was my son's birthday and the size of the saddle I wanted was 12 inches or less. I couldn't help but instantly think back to February 13,2012 when I had to take the trip to the florist to select floral arrangements for Jacob's casket, and the sprays that would stand alone beside it. That along with many others were the most moments of my life. I remember the first florist I visited telling me they were unwilling to use the flowers I wanted because of their shelf life. They were suggesting flowers that were ugly and old.

Two years has passed since the morning I woke up, and sat down on my couch to find I was leaking fluid. Two years has passed since I told my company that I needed to go the emergency room and they drove me the 50 miles… Two years sometimes still feels like yesterday. I still remember the littlest of details as if this happened yesterday... I can remember laying there in that triage room while the nurses came in and told me that what I feared most, The fluid leaking  was amniotic fluid.   I remember being blind- sided by the on call doctor coming in, and asking me which hospital I wanted to be transported to, so that I could deliver Jacob early, since they were a Catholic hospital and wouldn’t induce labor.   I remember being terrified and extremely upset. I was all alone and my husband at the time was stuck on location in an oil field… I remember the nurse telling me that they didn’t know sometimes things like that happened…but they did and they were sorry. I remember

23 months ago I received the worst news of my life. My sweet precious baby boy whom I adored and loved so much for 23 weeks and 5 days, passed away, and I would become the parent of a stillborn. The next day my son, Jacob Austin, was born still.   He was born into a silent room, filled with the tears of his family members who were still anxiously awaiting his arrival.   He was born into a room full of love.   Over the course of the next three days, my family and I loved him, snuggled with him and then I was discharged from the hospital.   Without him.   My world felt as if it was ending.   A part of me had died when he did.   Happiness was a goal I thought I would never attain again. Frankly, I had no desire to be happy again. My world had ended. My son, who was expecting to be a big brother wasn’t going to be a big brother to a baby boy on earth, but one in Heaven.   I wasn’t the mother to two kids on earth, but one on Earth and one in Heaven.    The week after I came home from