"You get what you pay for, but I just had no intention of living this way." -Counting Crows

Why We're Here...

My husband David and I delivered a stillborn Baby Boy that we loved, and wanted. Our first and only son, Logan, had Down Syndrome. Our daughter's smile is a little light in the darkness. She turned one year old three days after our sweet Logan tip-toed away on January 24, 2009. After 2 1/2 years we found out we were having another baby, whom we affectionatly called Rudy. Just shy of 6 weeks we found out Rudy was Ectopic. Rudy was surgically removed on May 26, 2011 delivering another blow to our already broken hearts.

4 weeks and a stupid box!

It’s been four weeks. That feels like an eternity ago, but seems like it should feel like yesterday. I’ve been trying to spend the afternoon scrapbooking Logan. I don’t know why it takes me so long to do a page for him. Just figuring out what paper I want to use for the background seems like an event that takes me hours to complete. Maybe it’s dread. Maybe it’s because I know there are only so many pages I could scrapbook about his short existence, so I’m dragging it out. I don’t know it’s frustrating though. I don’t know what I am feeling today. Grief does that to me, leaves me in a constant state of confusion about my emotions. I haven’t cried today. Not yet anyway. I cried a little yesterday as I was updating his journal. I hate that I have to speak these words. I hate that I have to write words about my son and his death. It’s not right. Even when I feel like I’ve gotten a hold on the anger, it wiggles its way back into my heart and I find myself angry at the universe again. THIS SHOULDN’T HAVE HAPPENED!! My son should still be nestled safely in my belly, growing perfectly, growing healthy. I should still be excited with the anticipation of his arrival in May. I should still be complaining about being fat and sore and hungry and tired. I should still be planning and arranging and decorating and shopping. But I’m not. We finally put all of the things that were meant for Logan into storage this past week. The only evidence that he was supposed to be here is that sweet little box, which some volunteer made, that contains the gut wrenching few items that belonged to Logan (after he’d flown away of course) and the tear stains on my face. That’s it. I hate that I have to go through life now with only that stupid little box. I hate that I don’t have my son. It pisses me off! It pisses me off that Logan had Down Syndrome. I’m too young, he was my son! Not MY son!! Not us! And all I have is this stupid freakin’ box!


Kritta22 said...

Thank you for sharing! I was soooo mad for so long when I had my miscarriage. It totally just pissed me off. Glad I'm not the only one.

Some people made you a box?

Icantletitgo said...

There is apparently a group of woman who volunteer and make “memory boxes” as well as some other items, for Mommies with empty arms to take home. They’re small hat boxes that have been painted or decorated. In them are things like the bracelets, pictures, baptism items, foot and hand prints, the blanket or any other “memorabilia” from your child’s birth. They really are nice, and I believe made by other woman who’ve lost children. I called it stupid because it’s a poor substitute for my son. My box is blue and green and had a teddy in a night outfit. It’s been hand painted.

Double Blessings said...

I have and am still experiencing everthing that you are going through. My son passed away almost two years ago. I had him at 25 weeks and he was 1 pound 10 ounces. I wish I could say that I am fine now, but its as if it happened yesterday. I recently gave birth to twin boys, and not a day goes by that I don't think about their brother. I ask myself daily why me? I've done everything right in my life. The pain for me has been suddued, but I still a longing in my heart for the child that I lost.

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