All my senses

Dear Nicholas

I am just sad. Plain and simple. 

I hear the sound of my heart breaking. It's pain I can not explain. I hear my heart beating, but yours is no longer able to. I hear my thoughts telling me it is going to be ok. But when might that be.

I touch your blankets and I long to snuggle you in them. I run my fingers through your soft wraps and long to touch your soft skin. I touch your beautiful clothes and know I will never get to dress you in them. 

I see children playing and laughing, but know I will never have that with you. I see pregnant moms smiling and all I do is long for you. I see family and friends moving on with their lives and I just see my life without you. 

I smell the baby powder in the cupboard, never to be used. I smell the baby cologne that was meant for you and know what I have lost. I smell the baby cream and long for your new born scent. 

I taste pain. I taste hurt. I taste anger. I taste jealousy. I taste sadness in everything I do. I feel everything now a days. Every emotion. All my senses are so high on the scale. I sometimes can not breathe. 

I speak that I am ok. But am I really. I speak about you and tell my story just to keep your memory alive. I speak because I want people to know that I love my son dearly. I speak through a smile but behind the mask is just pain. I speak because I miss you. I miss you every second, minute, hour of the day. 

Everyday I will miss you. Everyday I will long for you. Everyday I will pray that I will see you again. My son, my heart, my forever. 

Love Mom 

I miss you

 

Our parallel universe

Dear Nicholas

If only it was possible to have another universe out there where everything would happen exactly as it would in this one but with a slightly different outcome. You were born a healthy beautiful baby boy on this very day. 

This is our parallel universe. 

It's 2am in the morning. I wake up feeling slightly different. I am tossing and turning, unable to sleep due to my gigantic belly. I feel anxious and a little scared. The hours are ticking by so I decide to get out of bed. Feeling exhausted, I drag my heavy feet to the kitchen with this weight in my stomach. I look down and notice that my belly has dropped. It's time. It has to be time. 

Of course, the hunger pains of pregnancy kick in and I forget about everything. I am on the attack. The light of the fridge shines bright. Yes, it's 6am in the morning, and yes, I am eating olives. Who in their right mind would tell a pregnant lady she can't do that and that she is crazy? I know I wouldn't. So I open the jar and off they go, one by one. Satisfied. 

I am staring at my cupboard about to get dressed. A feat that every full term pregnant lady knows is an exhausting event. First, it is picking out your tent like clothes. Then, it is trying to find the energy to actually put them on. Trying to reach your toes to put your socks on or pick up your legs to put your pants on. An hour later and you are done. Socks, shoes and pants on. Now for the other half. 

I stand there looking in the mirror watching you dance and kick in my belly to my favourite song of the day. A big smile planted on my face. My heart is glowing. I think to myself, today could be the day we get to meet our little guy. I am staring into space, imagining what you would look like. What colour your eyes would be? Will you have a mop of hair? I feel a strange sensation and I know it's time to call the doctor. 

Off I go, excited to get to the doctor. Maybe it's nothing, but maybe, just maybe we are having a baby today. I am cruising the winding roads, staring ahead at our exhilarating future. I reach for my phone and call your dad. "Don't worry Hubby, it's probably nothing." "It's probably just false labour like the three times before." He smiles on the other side and says, "I am on my way."

Seated in the bright sunshine filled reception area, I wait. Oh how I can not contain my excitement. You have been tap dancing around in my belly the whole drive. "Ouch!" There goes one in the ribs. "Thanks baby boy." I see the doctor come around the corner with her calming smile and easy nature. She calls me in. She says through her smile, "Let's just scan our little fella and see how his doing." I leap onto the bed. 😜 Oh come on, I'm pregnant. My movement is like moving a ten ton whale on a beach. I slowly left myself up, one big heave, one big breath and I'm up, lying on the bed. The screen comes alive and there you are. The sound of your strong beating heart. Our son showing us his humour with his tiny peace sign like always. 

I am lying there, thrilled but nervous. The doctor turns to me with a glow on her face and  I hear the best words a mom could hear. "It's time, your baby boy is coming." I jump off the bed, well I think I jump. I waddle to my phone and dial your dads number. He answers in one ring. " It's time Hubby. We are having a baby." "I am running up the stairs" is all I hear behind an out of breath, nervous but happy laugh. 

Our family is notified. Our friends are called. Excitement is in the air. We are booked into a private room. Our little baby hotel room for three days.

And now we wait. 

My contractions have started to cause me some discomfort. Sometimes I can talk through them, other times I have to breathe calmly. An hour later and I'm shouting instead of talking and the calm breathing has turned to a rapid pace and is not very calming. Your dad is beside me rubbing my back, telling me to focus on my breathing and not just make the sound. Oh, how I want to shout at him right now. But I can't, I'm making the sound of breathing for heavens sake. An hour later I'm screaming for the meds. "Give me the medicine." "I need the drugs." Your dad goes to the door and looks out. He tells me the anaesthetist is on his way. "I can see him," he says. That was an hour ago. But right now I don't know if a second, a minute or an hour has gone by. I'm just focusing on my breathing and moving my hips. 

My night in shining armour finally arrives with the miracle drug. He is all calm and collected in his green scrubs. I'm a nervous wreck in excruciating pain. Your dad has stopped coaching me as all I'm doing is screaming in pain and making funny breathing sounds. He is still attempting to rub my back though. The doctor takes out his big needle and tells me I'm going to feel a slight pressure. "I don't care at this moment just give me the drugs," I scream. 

Bliss. Absolute bliss. I can't feel my right leg. Then my left leg. It is all numb. Your dad looks into my big blue eyes and I'm smiling. A big fat smile. I lie down comfortably as if I am in my own bed, just with no feeling in my legs. I'm 5cm dilated. 5 more to go. What a difference. From agonising pain to drifting out to sleep with numb legs, but no pain. I'm on cloud nine. And then my water breaks. Well that is a weird and fascinating sight. 

I wake up as the nurse arrives to check up on me. She looks up at the machine monitoring my contractions and an amazing look crosses her face. "It looks good." she says. I'm 10cm dilated. It's time. Both your dad and myself are elated. Now the hard work begins. 

I chase your dad to the top of the bed. There is no ways he is watching this event. I want him squeezing my hand and looking into my eyes up here at the head of the bed. I get the call to start pushing.


"You are nearly there." And then all we hear is a gushing sound. A wave of water splashing off the walls. All we see are the nurses and our doctor diving out the way. We both look at each other. "What was that?" your dad asks. "My mistake" the doctor says. "I told you to push while I broke another membrane." Well that was unexpected. Stitches of laughter fill the room. And then....

...Crying. Big loud beautiful crying. A sound so loud that I know you are my child. I look at your dad with tears running down both our cheeks. "Congratulations, you have a beautiful, healthy little son." 

We are holding you in our arms beaming with such pride, such happiness, such unconditional love. 10 fingers. 10 toes. The most perfect little nose and softest little feet. You look just like your dad, a splitting image. We have put you in your tiny orange bennie and bright orange outfit bought by your cousin Roxy. It's says, 'Done my time for 9 months.' Our family and friends come by to meet you. They hold you and you give them a little taste of your coolness. A little smile. A little rumble. A little gas. We are all radiating with happiness. 

"What's his name?" we are asked.  We respond, "It's Nicholas Jorge Piotis."

If only that was today.

Love Mom 

 

 

Hello and Goodbye

 

Hours of the clock

Dear Nicholas

Some days are like walking on hot coals. Just painful to get through. I feel like I am living in an animated world, a cartoon where every hour brings on a different feeling. A different emotion. A different self.

6am- I wake up. I stare at the ceiling and have to tell myself, it's time to get out of bed. It's time to breath in and out. It's time to face another day without you in our lives. 

7am- I am in my car. Driving once again fully aware that you are not with me anymore. My song that I have dedicated to you is playing on the radio, but I am not listening. I am just focusing on what lies ahead. The next stop sign. The next speed bump. The next drive without you. 

8am- I'm sitting at my desk. Looking through my screen, not at my screen because I've lost focus. I can't see anything. It is just blank. This blank screen staring back at me. This normal life that I have to get back to. But I don't feel normal at all anymore. A normal life is not normal without you. 

9am- I'm in the freezing cold. Standing on my two feet, teaching. Teaching children how to take part in sport. A love I have always had. But now I'm standing there, hearing words coming out of my mouth, speaking to another Nicholas and all the while I'm thinking to myself, what would my Nicholas be doing at this age?. A grand reminder that I am no longer with my son. 

10am- It's break time. A moment of relaxation. A moment for myself. A moment to eat my lunch. Another moment I am not with you. 

11am- I am back on the sports field, shouting now at children because I have just had enough. I'm angry. I am all of a sudden angry at the world. At myself. At everyone in it. Waiting for someone to say or do something wrong to me to just tip me over the edge. I am angry because you were taken from me. 

12pm- I am in a meeting. Once again trying to focus on words, so many words. And I look up and see people who care about me, who want to just take my pain away and I feel helpless. I feel hurt and pain because why am I the one sitting here with all of this. Why have I been chosen to bear a life without my son. 

1pm- Coaching soccer. A game both myself and your dad love. A game we both have so much passion for. A game I know would have put a smile on your face. But now what? It's a game that will forever miss you. Boots that will never be worn. A Mommy never to be on the side line using her loud voice to cheer you on or scream at the refs. A Daddy never to show you some cool tricks and some great skills. Never to be. 

2pm- We are in need of milk and cheese so it's time to get back in the car and go get groceries. Such a normal daily task. But a task that feels so strange. A daily routine that you used to accompany me. A routine that is no longer the same. 

3pm- Home time. Yay! But wait, home is staring at the tv. Staring at the walls. Walking past your nursery. Seeing all the bottles and clothes. Being sad. Just unbelievably sad. Because you should have been here.  You should be lying in your cot, rocking in your chair, playing on your gym with Mommy, laughing. But nothing. Just silence. 

4pm- Friends. My favourite series. Something that somehow amongst all this darkness brings me comfort and makes me smile just a little. My little piece of sunshine amongst these dark grey clouds. A piece I know I would have been sharing with you. Oh the longing I have to just hear you laugh my beautiful boy. What I would do for that sound. 

5pm- Sadness. That's all. 

6pm- Back to life now. It's time to cook again. Cook something to feed our empty souls. But there is no energy. What's the point. 

7pm- Our indoor game of soccer comes along. Another little rainbow to our day. Boots on. Shin pads on. Game face on. Energy is back. GOAL. Of course, do you think anything else would come from your parents. A few smiles. A few laughs. A lighter heart. 

8pm- Hunger. Yes hunger for food. Our body is craving some energy. But we sit here with blank expressions on our faces. Back to a normal routine and all we do is think of you. I think of myself never being able to feed you. Never being able to shout at you, "Eat all your vegetables Nicholas."So many moments never to be. 

9pm- It is winter time so the night is dark. The weather is chilling. The best place to be is in bed. Cuddled under the blankets where your feet stay warm. A place where your mind needs to relax and drift off to sleep. A place where my mind drifts off to another world. A world with you in it. 

10pm- I dream of you crying in my arms. I dream of your beautiful smile. I dream of you taking your first step, loosing your first tooth, speaking your first word. And my heart swells. My heart swells with this unconditional, higher than the highest mountain type of love. A dream where your smile brightens my day. 

11pm- Happiness. A glowing heart. 

12am-  Screams. Screams. Screams. Wake up. Just wake up. It's just a dream. It can not be true. No, don't say those words. There has to be a heartbeat. Screams. 

1am-  Reality wakes me up. It is true. You are gone. 

2am- Sadness. Deep agonizing Sadness.

3am- The feeling of pain. 

4am- The sound of my heart breaking. 

5am- I am telling myself, just stop hurting. Please just stop hurting. Someone take this pain away. Please. 

6am- Tears and the alarm. Another day starts. I have to do this all over again. 

You see my dear boy, I am an emotional roller coaster at the moment. Up. Down. Twists and turns. Being thrust forward. Coming to a halt. I don't know whether to look up, down or straight ahead. 

One moment I'm ok, facing this new life that I have been dealt. Trying to come to terms with it. I sometimes even manage to smile and laugh. And then a moment later, I am a ball of anger, waiting to explode. Then I'm smiling and ok. Then comes the moments of hurt and pain. Dreams and nightmares. And then I have to do it all over again. That's my life right now. Those are my hours. My hours without you. 

Love Mom 

Our story

Dear Nicholas

Our dream started on the 23 of November 2015. It was the date you ventured into our lives. You were a tiny spec. A positive sign on a test. A future we so wanted. It was on this day that we found out we were pregnant with you. 

I still remember that day like it was yesterday. A day of decisions. Deciding to go past the shops to pick up a pregnancy test. Deciding once I was home if I should wait for your dad or just go for it. But I couldn't wait. My curious and excited self had to know. So I did the test and who would have guessed, the words PREGNANT flashed on the tiny screen. I was overwhelmed with happiness. I wanted to jump up and scream but of course I was limited by my pants around my ankles. 😜 

But oh did I celebrate. I ran up and down the corridor, with my pants up of course, shouting to the walls, "We're Pregnant, we're pregnant, can you believe it." I then stopped for a moment, looked at my phone and thought to myself, do I phone your dad now or do I surprise him? But I couldn't wait. I couldn't help but share this amazing news. So I picked up the phone and just shouted over the phone. "You are going to be a dad, we are pregnant." And I could feel him smiling on the other end. I was smiling so hard that all my pearly whites were showing. And we celebrated. We celebrated you coming into our lives that night. Myself with my water, your dad with his beer and your grandparents with their wine. There were tears, laughs and so much happiness. 

The 7 and a half months from then are kind of a blur. You showed me how to be patient with my body while you started to grow causing havoc inside me. You showed me that curry was not my friend and you didn't like the taste to much. You showed me that olives were your number one fan. 

You started to grow day by day and on our 12 week scan we couldn't believe our eyes or ears. That little bean we once saw was now a beautiful little boy and your heartbeat was the most amazing sound. You were our little beating bean. 

The first time I felt you I was 18 weeks. How to describe it? Well, it felt like gas.😜 And like many pregnant women would know, gas is quite common and a natural thing in pregnancy. But this felt slightly different and I knew it was you. It got stronger every week. From little flutters, to rumbles, to tumbles, to full blown kicks. It was the best feeling in the world. 

We started to read to you every night. It must have been a mumble to you, like we were talking through water, but it was our special family time. A bed time story read by your Dad while you listened and kicked in my belly. A memory I will hold onto for the rest of my life. 

But my baby boy, you see, we knew you were special from the moment we saw that pregnant word on that screen, but at the time I didn't know how VERY special you were. 

Our nightmare started on the 27 of May 2016. It was the day you decided to become our angel forever. It was the day you left us. 

I woke up on Friday morning feeling very sad and anxious. It was as if I knew at 6am, that today was going to be the hardest day of my life. I hadn't felt you move since you kicked me so hard in my ribs the day before and I started to get worried. So I got up and raided the fridge. I drank coke. I ate candy. I made myself some hot chocolate. Anything to get a kick of sugar so I could feel you move. NOTHING. 

I felt nothing but a huge sense of fear. Fear because my beautiful and hard stomach was no longer. Fear because you were no longer kicking. 

Off to the doctor I went for my first unscheduled appointment. Not knowing what was in store for me. What I thought was just myself being paranoid, turned out to be very real. A mothers worst nightmare.

You were 31weeks old. I lay on the doctors bed with the transducer on my belly and nothing. There was nothing happening on the screen. I knew, before the doctor even turned towards me with tears in her eyes, that you were gone. It was then confirmed by words that will haunt me for the rest of my life. 'There is no heartbeat. I am so sorry.'

I lay there, emotionless, stunned beyond recognition as I didn't think I was hearing right. What? How? Why? 

What just happened? How did this happen? Why, oh the thousand whys? 

You were gone, never to return. Now what? How do you phone the person who you love the most in this world and tell him, his son is gone. I dialed the number 6 times and put down. Staring at the screen, I just knew I had to. I had to find the strength. And finally I dialed and your dad picked up. I needed your dad by my side. And wow, did he get to me in a matter of seconds. I still remember his stunned voice on the phone. A phone call so different from when I told him we were pregnant. A smile replaced by tears. 

And then we were thrust into something that we never thought would happen to us. We had to hold onto each other for so much strength. Because the next step was going to destroy us. We had to bring you into this world. We had to decide between natural birth or a c-section. A decision we thought we had a few weeks to make. And then came the decider. 'If you do natural, you can try again basically right away. If you do a c-section, you will have to wait about 18 months.'  We looked at each other and our desicion was pretty clear. I was going to give birth to my beautiful sleeping baby boy the natural way. 

It took three days for you to make your appearance. Three long days. You definitely got your stubborness from me, your mother. But what a beautiful sight you were. The moment you were placed into our arms, you took our breath away. You looked exactly like a tiny version of your dad, sleeping peacefully with his mouth open. You had the softest little feet and the most precious little nose. You were our whole heart. With tears streaming down our cheeks, we had to say our goodbyes. We had to say goodbye to our first born son. A moment in my life that will always stay with me. Because how does any parent say goodbye to their baby forever. It's just not natural. 

But with your strength helping us and your dads unconditional love for both of us, we got through the worst weekend of our lives. We had achieved the step we wanted to and did it perfectly. It was the perfect birth to a perfect little boy. It even had a few funny moments, which will be our little secret. 😜 

So there we were, a mom and dad, sitting in a hospital room with no crying baby to hold or comfort. Just empty. Just two people trying to breathe in and out. Two people trying to survive. 

We left the hospital with a new title. A title we both would change for just one more minute with you. A title of a mom and a dad to a baby with wings. 

And you see son. Ever since that day, the day we took our first step as parents to an angel baby, we have just been surviving. Our steps started very small. Very painful. They then grew slightly bigger and more sturdy yet still very painful. Some days it's easy to take a step forward. But Some days we take 5 steps back. Because no one will ever know how to deal with something like this. 

We are surviving right now because our story can not end like this. We are surviving because that is all we can do right now. We are surviving because we both know some day we will be holding you again. And when that day comes, it will be a nightmare turned back into a dream come true. 

We love you Nicholas with everything we have. Forever in our hearts. Never forgotten. 

Love Mom and Dad 

The gun shot. My bleeding wound

A trigger in child loss is like pulling the trigger of a gun. It goes off so quickly, penetrates your blush skin, splinters your bones and shatters your heart. 

It happens unexpectedly. You don't even know it's happening to you until it is to late. You think you have built up brick walls to help you survive, to not let the pain in but somehow it still gets through. Your eyes are blinded to what is happening around you, until the trigger goes off and you find yourself crumpled on the floor. Bleeding from your heart. Crying from your naive eyes. Lying there in pain. 

Your wound is once again wide open. 

There is no manuel to how to handle losing a baby. It just happens and you have to figure out how to survive. And that is how I am finding this whole journey. Things just happen. Triggers just happen. The gun goes off when you least expect it. It makes you want to scream out to the world. Scream because you angry. Scream because you want to release your pain. Scream because life is just so unfair. 

Many people who have gone through an ordeal like us, will know what these bullet holes called triggers are and what they can do to you. But every bullet is different for everyone. Yes, some may be similar. But everyone will react to their bleeding wound in their own way. 

So I am finding myself with a few triggers of my own. Seeing pregnant ladies. Holding new born babies. Seeing toddlers laughing and playing. My own personal bullet holes. Ones that open my eyes up to the unbelievable pain of losing my baby. Ones that open the doorway to my heartache. Ones that bring the rush of memories back to my unwanting mind. Ones that remind me of this life. This very unfair life. 

I have been told by so many wise and insightful people that are on the same journey as me, that this is normal. It is normal to feel like you don't want to be around when the gun goes off. Because who would want to open up that wound day in and day out. Where you find yourselves heaving in your loved ones arms from this deep reaching heartache that just doesn't seem to disappear.

But what I am struggling to come to terms with, Is how do you change your genetically built self? This is not me. I am not a selfish person. I always think of others before me. But what if it's YOU who is destroying your own self. It is YOU who is bringing this shattering pain into your life. 

You see, us angel moms have gone through something unimaginable. Something that we ourselves can not explain. You can't explain our broken soul, our gut reaching pain, our life without our baby. 

So it comes a time in our grief journey that we have to protect ourselves. And like with time, it may be years, it may be months, it may be days, but we have to give it time. We have to build those brick walls to help keep the bullets out. We have to look after ourselves, after our own hearts. Because if we don't, this journey that we did not wish for, will never get easier. It will never have light. It will never bring healing to our forever broken hearts. 

My time now is very recent so I have decided to protect myself, just for a little while. Just while my bullet holes are to fresh to handle. I know someday they will heal and be filled with scar tissue. A scar that will forever be.

But for now I am looking after my bleeding wound. For now I am protecting my grieving heart.