3rd Group

A few weeks ago, we tried our third group. The first group was cancelled, and I was the only one that showed up, the second was for people who loss a child at any age.  Both were not the fit that Amanda and I were looking for, and we were almost ready to give up on group.

We walked into this group, and right away I felt like this was the correct group.  There was dad's there, who are feeling what I am feeling.  Mom's there that were sharing their stories.  It was great, in the saddest way. We all cried from each other's stories, and we laughed, swore at the "normals".  For the first time, I felt like my old self, for the few hours we were all sitting around talking to each other.  Since we all had invisible marks on from our sad journey in life, it didn't define us there.  It was our strength.

Making our way through week 9.

Funeral

Monday Amanda got a phone call from her Dad saying that Amanda's Great Grandma has died.  She was 101 years old, and had a full live of love, happiness and loss.  This woman helped her children with everything life had to offer, the good and bad.

Amanda's Great Grandma was Catholic, so she had a Mass ceremony to lay honor her life.  I grew up Catholic also, so I knew what everything represented, and hit home.  When the reader was praying for those who have perished in Hazel's family, I lost it.  Tears were gushing down and I was screaming at God.  How much of a bastard/coward/narcissist/ he is. Screamed how much I hated him, and how much he owes me for taking away my son before he had a chance to live.  I was screaming so hard at him that if I was actually yelling I would have loss my voice for multiple days.   When I started to scream I felt like there was no one else was in the church besides me and god.  Everyone has just disappeared, however I made the mistake of sitting in the middle of the pew, so I was unable to leave. I probably went on for ten minutes of just screaming at him.  I went mono e mono with God, I attacked him in every way I could.  HOW IN GODS NAME COULD HE TAKE MY SON AWAY FROM ME???? By the time communion came around, I was balling.  My eyes were puffy, rivers coming from my eyes, I couldn't handle being in the church any more.  I told Amanda, that I need a break and I will be back in a few minutes.  I went outside and took a walk down the side of the church.  There was this sense of calm that came over me that I have never felt before.  I knew he heard everything I said, and he was there to comfort me.  

I will be the first person to say that I am not a super religious person, I have my doubts about religion, and how it is set up.  But I do believe in God, and I do believe that he was there with me, and he was there to tell me that he was listening.  

8 Weeks 2 days

April

I am having huge anxiety over the month of April.  I get extremely tense, and agitated just thinking about the month.  I do not want Wednesday to come.   I am afraid for the month to come, afraid for the month to end. It will be an extremely brutal month in our household for Amanda and I.

In a few days, some of our best friends are having their baby.  We are extremely happy, and over the moon for them.  However, it comes during the time that we are supposed to have our child 3 weeks later.  I am nervous about this baby being born.  I am nervous for the couple, for the baby, and most of all I am nervous for Amanda and I not to take our grief and anxiety out on them over their healthy baby.  This will be a major hurdle for us to get through during our grieving process.

I am also have high anxiety over April 27th. Our due date.  The day Johnathan Paul was supposed to come into this world.  The day where Amanda and I were to celebrate life, celebrate our love for one another, and celebrate our son Johnathan.  Instead, Amanda and I won't be celebrating at all, we will be grieving that day.  These next few days, weeks and months will be by far the hardest to get through.

If I could have 2 wishes, my first one would be of course to have my healthy son back with us, but if I couldn't have that, my second wish would be to get through the next few months without having too low of lows.

7 weeks, 6 days.

Time of our Lives

There is a popular song that plays on the radio all the time.  The song is called Time of our Lives, by Pitbull ft. Ne-yo.  The song is about not caring for a night, and to have the time of your life.  It is a catchy song, that I enjoy, for the most part.  At 3:10 in the song, Pitbull sings "Everyday above ground is a great day, remember that."  When this part of the song comes on, I find myself turning the station.  I don't know if I agree with this.  Every day above ground, I am not with my son.  I am reminded that I won't see my son grow up.

Group - 2nd try

A few weeks ago, I tried going to a support group.  I built myself up to go for almost a week, and when I was turned away at the door, I felt more lost and helpless than anything.  It crushed me, as I needed to know that Amanda and I were not the only ones that loss a baby.  

This past weekend, Amanda and I had a few conversations about trying another support group.  This group specialized in loss of a child.  Both Amanda and I had our reservations about going, since we didn't know if we would fit in.  Especially since we loss our child during pregnancy, and not later on in life.  

We decided to go, and Amanda and I were the youngest people there by far.  We were greeted by a really nice lady, and said that it doesn't matter if you loss your child during pregnancy or when they were in there 90's, a loss is a loss.  At this point, I knew we were the only couple there that loss their child during pregnancy, and I again felt like Amanda and I were the only one's in the world that have loss a child in pregnancy.  

We sat down around a big table, and on the opposite side of the table, people started to say their name and who they loss.  The first person said his name, and that he loss two kids, one to cancer (in her 30s), and the other was murdered (in his 20s).  My jaw dropped.  I grabbed onto Amanda's hand and listen to the rest of their stories.  The whole time we were there, I tried to hard not to dismiss their feelings and losses, but I thought, at least you had time with them.  You had X amount of years with your child.  I had my child in my arms for for 30 hours, and for those 30 hours, he was not here with me. 30 hours not years.  I did not see him open his eyes, cry, walk, run, etc.  I started to get angry with these people who had these experiences and still upset that they loss their children. I tried to relate with them, and validate their losses, because it is a loss for them. Needless to say, I don't think this group was for me/us.  

After the formal meeting, Amanda and I started to grab our coats to leave.  We turn around and there was a lady that came out of nowhere to talk with us.  She wanted to let us know that she loss a son at 7 months, and that she knows what we were going through.  She also wanted to let us know that she was a grief nurse, at a local hospital around here, and she knew that we didn't find the right fit with this group.  She recommended another group that meets in a few weeks, that Amanda and I have decided to go visit.  

I felt like Johnathan sent her to us, to let us know that we will find the right group for us, and that he is always around to help us through our grief.  

Today is day 50

7 weeks. 

Do you have children?

It was the Saturday before Johnathan's funeral, and I needed a hair cut.  I got up early, to go to Great Clips, so when we were done we can run errands for the funeral.  There was about a 20 minute wait, which was no big deal especially on a weekend.

Finally, my name was called and the stylist and I went to the next open chair.  The stylist that called my name, was barely out of high school, and I'm 98% sure he was hungover.  As most of stylist do, they make small talk.  It was innocent enough, we talked about the winter, and the holiday season, and what we were doing this weekend.  Inside I am falling apart, as I am there to get my hair cut for my child's funeral.   But I remember saying to myself this is easy enough, I can make it through this hair cut.

Then the dreaded question came.  "Do you have any kids?" My first thought was to get up out of the chair and walk out.  I don't care how my head looks, I don't need this line of questioning.  How dare this 18 year old drunk kid ask me if I had any children.  This is not an appropriate question to be asking anyone.

My mind is racing through many thoughts, and I needed more time to think about this question.  I asked him to repeat the question in hopes he asked a different question or if he did really ask that question I can come up with an answer in the the next few seconds.

I did not prepare myself to answer this question.  How are you supposed to prepare?  Your child just died a few days ago, you are there to get a hair cut for the funeral.  I panicked and said "no."  A major decision I now regret.  I do have a son, I do love him with my whole heart, and I do hope he forgives me for the moment of panic I had.

Today is day 44
6 Weeks 1 Day

1 in 160

When Amanda and I had a moment, we did what most people do, and researched about stillbirth, and researched what we could about Johnathan's symptoms.  Our google search, was filled up with blogs and various searches on stillbirths.  There is one stat that we found that just blows my mind, 1 in 160 births are stillbirths.  How in the hell can we allow this many births to end up in still?  How is the number acceptable in the medical community?  How is ok that with all of the medical advances out there, we were unable to do anything besides have more intake of protein, we couldn't do anything for our son Johnathan?  I know that people do not line up, and if you are 160th couple, your child just doesn't become still, I am not an irrational person.  My son did not deserve to be born still, he deserved to have a full life, with his first time crawling, walking, running, first day of school, first dance, first girlfriend, first heart break, college, wedding, kids of his own.  He deserved to have a full life, not being taken away before he had the chance to live.  How did my wife and I end up on the 160th birth?  How did we end up with the shit straw?

Today is day 42

Today is the start of week 6