How did we get here? How did this become our life?
On Sunday, as Matt & I passed by the cemetery where Rowan & Levi's little bodies are buried I commented to him that it's been nearly a year since Levi was born...I couldn't bring myself to say 'and died.' But I thought it. And as my eyes filled with tears, I choked out, "doesn't this feel like someone else's life?" Matt agreed. I feel as though I've lived 1,000 years in the last 2 years. I look at pictures of myself from a few years ago and I can hardly believe I'm looking at the same face. The grief has aged me, and you can see in my eyes that I have lived a long time for someone 'only' 30. At least I can...
I think about Rowan & Levi so much these days. Mostly at night before falling asleep, and I think it's because that is when I can feel Noah (so alive) inside...tossing & turning. Will the pain ever let up? Most days I don't think I want it to, but then some days I wonder what it would be like not to know the deep sadness of losing a child...not to carry it around...so heavy, all the time... But, I am so glad to be their momma and I honestly don't know who I'd be without Rowan & Levi, and now Noah.
I always thought that being a parent meant that you would be responsible for teaching and making these little people...but so far they have been the ones teaching and making me... Does anyone else feel this way? Am I completely off the reservation?
Showing posts with label child loss. Show all posts
Showing posts with label child loss. Show all posts
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Sunday, February 27, 2011
the blackboard
How beautiful, and spot on, is this quote from Elizabeth Edwards (on losing a child):
I have often described the death of a child in this way: in life we have a blackboard on which we write all the things we are doing -- our jobs, coaching soccer, working at Goodwill, going to basketball games, whatever. And the board is full, so when the next thing comes along, we find a corner or the board to add a computer class or a space between other things for book club or sewing Halloween costumes. It is full and lively and seemingly all important.
And then your child dies, and all the things that were so important that you worked to squeeze them in? Well, they are all erased. And you are left with an empty blackboard. Everything you thought was important was not. And the next time you write something on the board, you are very, very careful about what it is. Your choices about what to do and how to do it are so much more deliberate. Doing something that is so patently important as public service -- whatever your politics -- well, that seems like an easy call. That is worth some of the space. And putting something on the board, well, it allows you -- in your words -- to function another day. And each day that you find something else worthy of the board makes it a little easier to put one foot in front of the other. And each day you functioned the day before makes it easier to function again. Are there still bad moments, even bad days nearly twelve years later? Sadly, there are. But they are not as frequent and they don't happen in that same emptiness you feel today. Now when they happen, we can turn to something that we have written, something worthy of our time, of his parents' time and we can function through that pain. As you will -- not without [your child], but with [your child]* not as a living, breathing daughter [or son] but as an inspiration and a helper to decide what is worthy of your blackboard.
I have often described the death of a child in this way: in life we have a blackboard on which we write all the things we are doing -- our jobs, coaching soccer, working at Goodwill, going to basketball games, whatever. And the board is full, so when the next thing comes along, we find a corner or the board to add a computer class or a space between other things for book club or sewing Halloween costumes. It is full and lively and seemingly all important.
And then your child dies, and all the things that were so important that you worked to squeeze them in? Well, they are all erased. And you are left with an empty blackboard. Everything you thought was important was not. And the next time you write something on the board, you are very, very careful about what it is. Your choices about what to do and how to do it are so much more deliberate. Doing something that is so patently important as public service -- whatever your politics -- well, that seems like an easy call. That is worth some of the space. And putting something on the board, well, it allows you -- in your words -- to function another day. And each day that you find something else worthy of the board makes it a little easier to put one foot in front of the other. And each day you functioned the day before makes it easier to function again. Are there still bad moments, even bad days nearly twelve years later? Sadly, there are. But they are not as frequent and they don't happen in that same emptiness you feel today. Now when they happen, we can turn to something that we have written, something worthy of our time, of his parents' time and we can function through that pain. As you will -- not without [your child], but with [your child]* not as a living, breathing daughter [or son] but as an inspiration and a helper to decide what is worthy of your blackboard.
Labels:
child loss,
elizabeth edwards,
quotes
Thursday, July 1, 2010
A fund for my son
For those wishing to contribute to the medical and funeral costs for sweet Levi Matthew McCleskey, please click here: Levi's Life Mattered.
We'll add your names to a separate email list so that you can follow along with exactly how your money will help pay for Amanda's hospital expenses, the birth and subsequent death of Levi, as well as his funeral and head stone. And, in the event that God blesses us with more than we can handle (as he tends to do) - you on the list will vote on which charity, memorial, etc...will claim the additional funds.
Be blessed, it is no small thing to help a friend in need.
We'll add your names to a separate email list so that you can follow along with exactly how your money will help pay for Amanda's hospital expenses, the birth and subsequent death of Levi, as well as his funeral and head stone. And, in the event that God blesses us with more than we can handle (as he tends to do) - you on the list will vote on which charity, memorial, etc...will claim the additional funds.
Be blessed, it is no small thing to help a friend in need.
Labels:
child loss,
donations,
funeral,
infant death,
Levi,
life happens
Saturday, June 26, 2010
numbers game
15-20% of all pregnancies will end in miscarriage. Of those 15-20% of women, 3-5% will experience multiple miscarriages.
"The reported incidence of preterm premature rupture of membranes ranges between 1% and 2% of all pregnancies."
"Recurrent preterm premature rupture of membranes occurred in 39 of 121 patients, for a rate of 32.2% (95% confidence interval, 23.9 +/- 40.5)." ..."We conclude that patients with preterm premature rupture of membranes should be counseled regarding the significant risk of recurrence and need to have close follow-up in their subsequent pregnancies."
Spontaneous PPROM vs Iatrogenic PPROM:
Pregnancy after iatrogenic PPROM had a better prognosis than after spontaneous PPROM. Intensive management with corticosteroids and antibiotics appeared to be helpful. Neonatal survival in spontaneous PPROM before 24 weeks remained very poor and discussing pregnancy termination in these cases seems legitimate.
There is currently no treatment capable of sealing the fetal membranes in patients with spontaneous PPROM. Spontaneous PPROM lesions are hard-to-heal wounds, like chronic wounds, which complicates repair.
"The reported incidence of preterm premature rupture of membranes ranges between 1% and 2% of all pregnancies."
"Recurrent preterm premature rupture of membranes occurred in 39 of 121 patients, for a rate of 32.2% (95% confidence interval, 23.9 +/- 40.5)." ..."We conclude that patients with preterm premature rupture of membranes should be counseled regarding the significant risk of recurrence and need to have close follow-up in their subsequent pregnancies."
Spontaneous PPROM vs Iatrogenic PPROM:
Pregnancy after iatrogenic PPROM had a better prognosis than after spontaneous PPROM. Intensive management with corticosteroids and antibiotics appeared to be helpful. Neonatal survival in spontaneous PPROM before 24 weeks remained very poor and discussing pregnancy termination in these cases seems legitimate.
There is currently no treatment capable of sealing the fetal membranes in patients with spontaneous PPROM. Spontaneous PPROM lesions are hard-to-heal wounds, like chronic wounds, which complicates repair.
Labels:
child loss,
facts,
hope,
miscarriage,
PPROM,
random?
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