Letters and Thoughts found on this Page-click on hearts

I don't really remember how I handled the immediate grief of losing our first son, Robert. There were so many horrible things to deal with, such as funeral arrangements. I knew my wife, Karen, was barely hanging on to sanity amid her grief and pain from Robert's birth.

She had tried so hard and so long to get pregnant. To want something so bad and have it snatched away at the last minute was impossible to accept. In addition, I had taken over an engineering business that had about 20 people counting on me for support. However, most compelling was a need to keep my mind off the night our son was born, and I had to hopelessly watch him die.

I didn't really plan the way my time was spent, but I found that most waking moments were spoken for by work or by being there for Karen.

When most of your family and friends don't really understand, your spouse really needs someone to talk with or just to be in the room. As Karen healed and found support through others in similar circumstances, such as SHARE, I began to allow myself time to reflect on that horrible night's events.

Though they say, "time heals all," what I really think they mean is time dulls the pain and takes the sharp edge off our memories. I feel I have grieved or healed as much as I ever will, now four years later, but even now I can't let myself think back on that night without some time to collect myself from the sad memories.

Realistically, and perhaps to maintain my sanity, this old world and my two beautiful little ones don't allow many envelopes of time to reflect on these things which I would give all to change but can't.

I now find my time is spent enjoying the things I have or, as we all do, meeting the demands of an increasingly complex workplace.

Randy G.
SHARE Atlanta
In Memory of
Robert Anthony G.
August 12, 1992
8/97

We had a miscarriage in the first trimester. I feel like I suffered alone.

My husband said that it hurt him as well but it is hard for me to accept that because I didn't see him suffering. This happened 6 months ago and I still cry about it.

I know that I have one child and should feel blessed by that because some don't even have that.

Jennifer
Defiance, OH

See Marcia's thoughts about this letter following the letter directly below....

If I only talked to him, I would probably think that there was something wrong with me.

I guess that I should preface with the fact that I do have a 2 year old son. Even at that, there are times when it really hurts deep down inside to see young infants not to mention pregnant women knowing that I should be pregnant right now.

I lost my son at around 15 weeks the middle of Feb. Even though we are into June, I still feel that way even to the point of it bring tears. Like I said, I don't think that my husband understands why it hurts me so much.

I really can't explain it to him except to say that for me our son was real from the moment I found out that I was pregnant and I don't think that he really internalized it because it hadn't arrived.

I guess I'm just wanting to know if there is anyone else out there that had to or is still dealing with anything like this. I know that I cannot hide inside of the house and even if I tried that we will be having house guest and one of them has an infant. So even in my own home it finds me.

I welcome any and all suggestions. Thank you for your time and concern. Youlanda, Atlanta Ga.

Part of Marcia's reply: ...Of course you miss your baby and are grieving for your little one. Your sweet two year old is a blessing, but you are the mother of two babies and one does not equal the other.

Grief takes time to move through - 6 months to a year and sometimes longer(and that's normal).

Each person grieves his or her own way and men and women usually grieve very differently. Especially in early losses, you are right, women bond more than men because their body is so fully involved in the first changes. Most often, a baby does not become totally real for the dad until he holds him/her - even though he really wants the child. Usually, the later the loss - the more the bond is between the dad and child.

Especially, in an early loss the dad is usually very concerned for his wife's health. He can see and feel what she is moving through...and can "help" by supporting her through any physical needs.

Many SHARE dads have said that they were very unsure(and, often fearful) during this time. They want their wife to get physically well and to "be back to normal. Men are fixers (and they can't fix this), and their usual way for taking care of things is to "fix" what they can.. and move on.

The baby is important to them, but since they can't "do" anything for the baby, they(the dad) need to "move on" in their mind and heart.

Mom, on the other hand, is most likely to be focused on the loss of the baby she carried. Thus, she needs longer emotional support. Often, dad becomes frustrated and confused by the length of time that mom needs this extra support.

This is a normal reaction by both parents. It helps to realize and to accept these different needs. This is when support groups can be very helpful.

Your concerns and questions I have heard many times throughout the last 15 years as a SHARE group leader and during the two years on the internet. They are very normal concerns that most parents face as they travel down the path towards healing.

Please take time to read "Allowing Grieving to Happen to Heal" (Drop Down Box). Reading "JoAnn's Diary" (Making Your Child's Presence Meaningful Menu") may help because she clearly describes so many normal feelings and reactions during the first year after a loss. Take time to read and to grieve. Invite(not force) your husband to read some(or all) of these. He is grieving, just differently than you. It helps to understand and learn to cope with these differences. Marcia McGinnis- updated 3/99

I'm hearing a childhood song in my mind, "you take the high road and I'll take the low road." I hope this "grief road" meets up someplace later! I don't really want to be left alone on a deserted road.

I'm still having emotional days where I withdraw and then eventually cry until I can't cry anymore. Today was one of those days again. After a long day at work, I drove to the cemetary, tended to Ian's gravesite, and cried. It does make me feel better doing that, but I'm starting to wonder "why am I still doing this?"

My husband is questioning the same thing now, I believe. He may state, "you don't have to feel sorry about crying" however I really feel he's thinking "why isn't this situation getting better? Why is she still so bitter?"

Actually looking back on the two months after Ian's stillbirth when all I did was cry every day, every hour of every day, I can see a difference now. If you look back in time until today, I can see a phenomenal change. But if you look back just last week or three weeks ago, probably not much change. It's still going to take time, I guess. The positive thing is, I can see a change "for the better."

I do recognize positive changes in me, and I applaud myself for them. We need to give ourselves credit sometimes, I think. I no longer immediately feel angry or resentful when I see a pregnant woman or hear of someone who recently had a crying baby.

In fact, I'm feeling "hopeful" for the future (my husband and I have no other children). I no longer cry at the spur of the moment when I see a toddler (like driving home yesterday from work I saw a child riding her tricycle). Instead of me saying (which I would have months ago) "it's not fair, my child died and I won't be able to enjoy those simple pleasures" I think to myself, "I hope that's me someday, helping my child learn to ride a bike. When I think of it that way, I've made incredible progress.

It's a long road, though. I accept the fact that my husband is starting to climb the "high road" and I'm still on the "low road." I told him recently, "I will probably still have bad days." I know that for a fact.

I'm trying to recognize what I can do with that energy in another way. What else can I do to help myself heal? Sometimes I feel as though a black cloud is hanging over me, and I'll never escape it. I hope upcoming weeks ahead and months ahead will help me reach "the higher road."

The other day we found out neighbors of ours are expecting their first child. When my husband suggested we send a card I immediately said, "I don't think I can do that." What a terrible thing to say! In fact, I didn't realize what I had said. When my husband stated, "you shouldn't hold a grudge" I panicked. I started getting emotional and analyzing myself and saying to myself, "what is wrong with you, do you realize what you said?" Of course, I apologized.

Even though some days I feel hopeful and less resentful, there are some other days mixed in between where I am extremely jealous. I guess "jealous" sums it up. I wish I were in their shoes. I wish my experience was all a dream.

Unfortunately, I can't change the situation. Ian was stillborn. It happened. He is still our son, though. He will never be forgotten and forever loved.

Day by day, I'll get "better" and hopefully not more "bitter." I'm trying. It's hard. I applaud myself for trying.

Marcia's comment...
JoAnn's letter reflects the thoughts, feelings and reactions of someone who is trying hard to heal, but still has, honestly, addressed her real "now" place.

There is no time frame for an individual's grieving process. As she states her husband is possibily, for now, going down another path. Very Normal!!!!

In our SHARE Atlanta groups, it is about the seventh month that the mom continues coming to the meetings, and the dad, often, has "dealt with the issues." I don't believe that he has totally healed, he just does not want to discuss it as much, and he is ready to focus his thoughts on the future.

This should be received and accepted by the mom (as best as she can). In their effort to continue communication, mom needs to clarify that it is normal for this to happen and that she still needs to openly grieve - and do what she needs to do to continue to heal.

JoAnn's actions and expressions of remembering sound very much in line with what I have heard and studied for 13 years as a group leader. She needs to do concrete things for Ian. If both parents will understand that what is happening is normal, then the energy put into worrying about what's "right," can be focused on healing.

Both parents sound like they are healing! JoAnn's clear statement - that she can observe change and healing taking place, and she can begin to make small steps for the future - is very positive!!!

THANK YOU FOR THE "REALITY CHECK." Sometimes I think I'm really out to lunch with what I'm feeling. You certainly made me feel like I'm "on target" considering the timing since our loss.

While I was reading the site last night my husband was standing over my shoulder. He gave me a peck on the cheek and said, "I'm sorry." Well, I explained he didn't need to apologize, that's just the way it is.

I recently met another Mother who had a stillbirth 8 years ago. She's a counselor for the local. I scheduled the (her) to come on-site at my workplace to deal with a crisis (an employee passed away unexpectedly and the co-workers needed help dealing with the initial shock).

Just as I was thinking that I was "out to lunch" with my situation, she brought me back to realizing that everything I'm feeling is normal. What a relief. SUPPORT does work! And somewhere along the line I feel somebody somewhere was looking out for me in making sure I met Joanne T. It's funny how that evolves.

There's the sonogram picture of Jamie and my "Mother's Journal" from that pregnancy - only four pages are written on. There are the cards and notes I received after my second miscarriage, which are extra special because there are so few of them. I have two heart-shaped charms on my slide bracelet, each with a tiny birthstone, and my confused rosebush that is blooming (even as I write this) in the cold of November.

But my favorite mementos are the bricks. I had told my husband, Braxton, that I wished I had a place for my babies - a place to go, a place where their names are written. He made the wonderful suggestion that we buy each of them an Olympic brick like the one their brother has. I was moved to tears by this idea, coming from a man who has never truly felt at ease with these babies. He is not one to speak of them or to let anyone know he misses them.

Our next problem was that we had never named the first baby we lost. My naming of Jamie several weeks after that loss had been received with caution and suspicion. My family was concerned about my connection to reality.

When I mentioned this to Braxton, he took my breath away by saying, "I already thought of that. His name's Jesse."

I guess this might seem like a small thing to those of you whose babies were farther along, or whose husbands are especially sensitive and supportive.

To me, though, this was the first time Braxton had acknowledged (without my urging) the little souls who passed so quickly through our lives. By naming them he loved them, he made them real, and he made them his children completely.

I know this was hard for him, but I also know that this moment strengthened and united us, and it gave me one of my most precious memories.

Entry #1

Yesterday, more or less by chance I typed the words "stillbirth" not expecting to get real helpful information. My first reaction to your homepage was "there are so many suffering". Then it took me nearly an hour to stop reading and continue working.

The stillbirth of our son was followed by a one year crisis with my wife because I worked a lot at that time, and she had the feeling that I left her alone.

I thought I understood life and whatīs it all about. Not true. I didnīt understand anything.

Now after one year weīre still struggling but there is hope. I hope that all people will find their personal way out of the darkness because there is no rule.

Even if there are friends, parents - in the end the starting point from my experience is yourself. I wish you all the best and thank you for your work. For Luca (3), Silke, Mick and all the people out there. Jochen

Entry #2

....Thanks again. Itīs good to talk - itīs even better if there is someone who can understand. Jochen

He changed our lives and it was the most amazing thing to hold him after he was born and to watch him grow.

The following years after my son was born has been devastating. When my son was two we lost our daughter Francesca at 38 weeks. She was a beautiful little girl. The autopsy showed no anomalies. She was born with the umbilical cord wrapped around her neck.

We knew that we wanted a second child and it was at the same time in her pregancy, appoximately two days to the day that we lost our daughter, that our son Lucas died. This was after we had received extensive tests and advice from neonatal specialists in Toronto and Sault Ste. Marie.

How could this have happened again?

We went to a further specialist who believed that the problem that my wife was experiencing was due to blood clotting. She was placed on heparin and aspirin for the next pregancy.

Thomas died the same day as Lucas. In the cemetary there are three stones that sit side by side. I ordered my son Thomas' stone yesterday. I feel much older than my 32 years.

I haven't received counselling as I guess I felt that the "man of the family" has to be strong. I guess I have denied the full grief of what has happened.

My son started school this year and he was asked if he had any brothers or sisters. He told his fellow students that he did. I know that he has and I tell him that they are in Heaven and that he will see them again.

My wife and I would dearly love to have another child. We know that we have been blessed with a beautiful boy.

I wish I could have answers that I could give to my wife. We are still in search of specialists. Dr. Laskin, a specialist in this type of high risk pregnancy, is our newest hope. I wonder if we could go through this again? I know it would be worth it but I feel that my mind will snap.

Sometimes the worst thing that you could imagine in your mind is exceeded by reality. I cannot accept the images and the pain of our loss and I have realized that the stress of the last three years has taken its toll. I feel very old.

Thank you for the e-mail in regards to my submission to the Share Atlanta webpage. It is comforting to know that there are other people who understand what it is to experience the loss of a child. I wish there were no people who experienced pre-natal loss. It is devastating and it certainly changes your perspective on life.

You mentioned that there will be a chat line for fathers in the future. I will be keeping tabs on this and I feel that this would be of great value.

I have taken your advice on talking to my wife about my feelings. This has been hard to do because when she gets upset I don't want to "drag" us both down by being as upset as she is. Maybe this represents the "male" approach to grieving?

I appreciate the time that you have taken in regards to submitting my letter to the Share Atlanta group.

My wife and I grieve very differently and at different times. I still think about Samuel every day and every now and then, without warning, will get emotional about it.

Usually when I am alone, for example, driving. Would like to hear from other parents, Mothers or Fathers that face this same challenge every day. Steve

I also want to suggest a way that my husband showed me the baby was important to him too. He bought me a charm for my mother's necklace, and then when we had a mother's ring made, we included the baby's birthstone too.

I am happy to say though that we will need one more stone for the ring. We had a healthy baby girl this year. We made it safely through a very worrisome pregnancy and welcome our newest addition.

I look foward to meeting our little one in Heaven someday. Thanks again for your wonderful website, it has really touched my heart. Sincerely, Natalie Zoller

For more of Nalli's thoughts...

It is six weeks since the miscarriage - I had never felt so alone.

My husband would not talk about the m/c - he did not understand, did not want to talk about it.

I kept it inside until the pain overwhelmed me and I fell apart. We still did not talk. I did not know how to put my pain into words, now I was losing my husband as well!

Then I found a poem on this site called 'Don't Take Her' by Teresa C., this poem put all the pain I was feeling into words. I asked my husband to read the poem last night....he cried, we both cried, and we finally talked.

Thank you Teresa C. for saving my marriage.

I lost my daughter, Sara, on December 15 1998. I had a very rough pregnancy, I was sick every day from the first month on. She died at about 29 weeks gestation and I delivered her at 32 weeks.

I knew something was wrong but my husband and my doctor didn't take me seriously. I called the doctor's office several times in tears trying to get someone to check it out.

Finally they let me come in and they could not find a heartbeat. When she was born they took her away. I never held nor viewed my baby. I regret it every day. There was nothing wrong with her she was perfect. She only weighed one pound 8 oz.

The doctor said an infection caused the placenta to swell and seperate from my uterus. I believe he could have done something if he had listened to me.

My husband is not very supportive. He said he was not ready for responsibility, he is 27 years old. I think he was relieved when she died. Our marriage not very strong now. He refuses to talk about Sara and he says he is not sure that he wants anymore.

I would like someone to talk to that understands. No one I know has ever been through this.

I know it hurts a lot, and Mom you're probably sad, but if you look back at my whole entire life, you will see that I gave you all the time I had.

Do remember the first time you held me? The first time you picked me up? I remember, because I opened my eyes so I could see, as soon as I felt your touch.I remember being held, up against your chest so tight. Your tender touch, and loving arms holding me with all your might. I knew you were hurting and you were being strong for me. You knew my fate and God knew my destiny.

That's why God made it a point to put us all together before I passed. Me, my beautiful sister, my mom, and my dad. Now before I take my last breath and fall asleep, let me look one last time, such a beautiful family.

Please don't cry. I am in a better place now. Tell dad not to worry about me because I'm in the arms of Jesus now.

Hi My name is Albert,I'M Laverne's husband. January of 2000, we lost our little McEwen, after a week struggle for her life. McEwen was born on January 3rd, and lived until January 10th.

My wife had a c-section and stayed in the hospital for one day after McEwen was born. McEwen was brought to MUSC Hospital where she stayed that night, and had to be put back in the hospital the following day. McEwen showed no signs of improvement as the days passsed.

The doctors asked to take her off life support, but we did not. We were going to leave it in Gods hand and let his will be done. God's will was done and now we are going through something, I would not wish on my worst enemy.

It has been almost a year, but the pain is still there. My wife is hurting, everyday, she shows it on some days, others she keeps it bottled in, but I know. She received some pamphlets from musc, and this web sight was on there. She had to stop looking because she got all teary eyes. I want her to write at this time and put her pain in to words.

Please if anyone who can chat with her who is feeling the same pains from a lost, please please do so. She does not feel like writing right now, so let me tell you what we are feeling and have gone through.

First we were just so happy and suprised because we were told we not be able to have kids. We had gone through fertlization shots and more, during the earlier part of the nineties, but was unsuccesful in trying.

I got a promotion at work in March of two thousand. In May of that year, we found out my wife was pregnant and could not beleive it. We both were happy and shocked, but began to plan for the birth.

My wife worked for a couple of months, but had to quit due to high blood pressure. We found out we were having a girl and were so excited. In August of 1997 we adopted a little boy from birth, whose name is Quintell. We decided on the name McEwen to match Quin and Grace for a middle name.The middle was for Laverne's sister Grace in New jersey.

On January 3rd,my wife started having severe stomach and we rushed her to the hospital in Manning SC. While at the hospital each time she would have a cramp,the baby's blood pressure would fall. The nurse Marie Matthews, whom we knew very well, saw a problem and called for an emergency c-section. My wife was due on the 29th of January.

McEwen was born around 3:00pm and had to be Transported to MUSC in Charleston SC via helicopter. Upon my arrival at MUSC,I found doctors and nurses working hard, but was told that she had not developed fully, for as any vital organs, and things did not look good. If she lived, she would have problems. This was not what I was hoping to hear after making a hour drive to get there - and having my wife an hour away. I stayed until late that night and then came home.

The next day me and other family members went to see her. I was able to hold her in my arms, that was pleasing, but also hurting. My wife came and her sister Grace flew in from NJ. WE stayed at a hotel from Thursday through Friday and came home Saturday.

We went back Sunday and when we got there, my sister met us telling us McEwen had her eyes open. I knew this was a bad sign, but hoped for better. My wife got to see those beautiful eyes that day for the first time. On Monday morning she passed away in my wife arms.

We had the services that Wednesdy at the chapel of the funeral in Manning SC. Friends, family and co-workers came to be with us and that made us stronger.

The months has passed, but my wife has been very sick with blood pressure and depression. She is seening four different doctors at this time, and I can see improvement from in the last two months. I could go on and on, but will close now.

Thank you for this page,I needed somewhere to write and talk to someone. Please EMAIL me back and i would love to talk again.thanks

I suffered a miscarriage during my fifth month of pregnancy. I was so excited to finally be over the half-way point when I suddenly came down with an severe infection which lead to me losing my baby, Kaleb.

I was really depressed because this was my first pregnancy and I had gone on a baby shopping frenzy. Coming home after a week in the hospital, I saw a beautiful baby room with every toy and baby book imaginable. Except I didn't have a baby to occupy it anymore.

I felt as though noone understood what I was going through, so I tried to isolate myself from family and friends. Many people tried to comfort me by saying things like "You'll be able to fill that baby room soon". But to me I just wanted to scream, "Well I had a baby to fill it and I want that baby back." I knew they were trying to help, but I just wanted to be alone.

The first two months were so hard to get through. The hospital gave me a baby book with pictures and foot prints but it took me almost a month to even be able to open it. Then when I finallly did, I cried every time.

Finally, after three months of trying to isolate myself, my husband stepped in and said the one thing that I realized I wanted to hear all along, "Would you like to talk about what happened and how you're feeling?".

Now it's been a year and a half. I still have days where I think about what happened and I still get sad.

After sharing my feelings with family, I realized my mom went through the same unfortunate experience and just never liked to talk about it. Now she and my husband are my support team whenever I get sad and depressed.

It really helps to just talk about it. Share your feelings and cry on someone shoulder. There's nothing worse than holding things in and blaming yourself. "Do you want to talk about it"--Those were some magic words!

My wife and I had lost our baby almost five years ago. And although we have moved passed our initial grief, we still remember. We both deal with our grief in very different ways. My wife started a support group on line called "PGLOSSMAIL". She was very open about what she was going through, and took comfort in talking to others who were going through the same. She had also made some very dear friends, who she still stays in contact with.

I on the other hand was not so open. I would give my wife comfort and love for what she was going through, but felt I needed to be the strong one, and be there for her. My way of dealing with our loss was to write a song. Writing is therapy for me, it helps me work things out, and gives me the ability to release my emotions through music and lyrics. It took me a year to write this song, called "More Than Just A Name". I wrote it for my wife and as a tribute to our son.

I wrote what I thought was the perfect song for my wife, and I was done. And I felt much better. And I put the song away. The same reason my wife had stopped with her web site. It was time for us to move on with our lives, still try to have a baby, and to never forget about our sweet Tristan.

And now, years later my wife and her friend had started up this wonderful web site again. And you can visit it at www.pglossmail.com. And I recorded "More Than Just A Name", and also put it out on the web, to share with others who have lost a baby. Hoping that they realize that healing doesn't mean you have to forget about your baby. I think healing comes with love and support and time. And to remember, all of our babies are more than just a name.

Peace & Love