Friday, December 23, 2011

That is today

I don't really know what to write today, but I just felt the need to pull up my blog and start typing, maybe because today was a really bad day. Now, everyday that I have had since Marcellus died has been a bad day. There have been "ok" days [side note: there are NOT enough words in the English language to describe what we go through in grief, especially when losing a child. In my life before losing Marcellus I wouldn't describe these days as ok, but everything's relative and relatively speaking we have had ok days since Marcellus died.]. In fact earlier this week I had a couple of ok days in a row. Meaning I only cried once those days and it wasn't uncontrollable sobbing. I was able to think of the good memories of Marcellus and feel some warmth in my heart. Mike and I were able to laugh a little, especially at my poor reciting of Marcellus's story "Guess How Much I Love You".

But then today BAM! a pretty dang bad day. It's probably a combination of things. Christmas is pretty much here. Sometimes those ok days aren't as ok as you think and we are just able to 'set it aside' or 'shut down' a bit (consciously or unconsciously). Most of all it's related to the fact that had Marcellus not gotten sick, we would be bringing him home any day now. He would be 8 weeks old today and 37 weeks gestation on Christmas. Today thoughts of what it would be like to have brought him home have been racing through my head all day. I keep thinking of how big he would be, what would he weigh? Mike is telling me he would probably be around 6 lbs. 6 lbs?! What a big boy he would be! His cheeks would be getting round (both on top and bottom - he literally had no butt), and his wrinkles would be going away as he filled out his skin. What would it be like to breastfeed him? It's something I was really looking forward to. I worked so hard to pump for him, so hard to get my supply up. He didn't need much at the time, but I wanted to be ready for when he was ready. He was going to be such a good eater. I swear he had already been rooting. What would it be like to introduce him to the dog? Perk was going to be such a good doggy big brother. When our nephew was here Perk was so gentle. He would have protected Marcellus and they would have been best of buds. How would it have felt to walk out of that NICU with our baby in tow? We would have been on top of the world. When we got home we would have just holed up, not invited anyone over. Just the 3 of us (and Perk) together for the first time without nurses and monitors constantly beeping.

I have thought about literally every detail there would have been that day. And as long as I can stay in my head they are amazing to think about. But as soon as I'm back in reality and know those things will never happen I'm a wreck. To remember that we had our last walk out of the NICU, but it wasn't with our baby in tow it was leaving him behind dead and cold. We did get our time just the 3 of us, no nurses or monitors. But it wasn't at home cuddled in bed, it was at the funeral home with our son in a casket.

That's what today has been. A mix between fantasy and reality. A day where the uncontrollable, I can't catch my breath sobs take over and my limbs go limp. I know this post is pretty depressing, but I want to be open and honest about what we are going through. And that is today.

Marcellus, Mommy and Daddy really wish you were here. We wanted to bring you home so badly baby boy!


  1. It is pretty hard to put the intense pain we feel into words that would give others even a glimpse of what it is like...but you are doing a good job of that Morgan. I hope that those reading this seek first to understand you as much as they are able without passing judgment. And I hope that releasing your thoughts and feelings helps you with your grief. I can't tell you how many times I sat at the computer and typed as I cried...

  2. All the "what ifs" play through my mind as well. And as the months and years go by, the "what ifs" may change, yet they remain. And they are still painful as ever.

    Grief is such a roller-coaster. I remember saying at group so many times that I thought I was getting better and had passed certain points, having mostly "ok days." and then, suddenly it would all come flooding back. I wondered if this was normal and those at group assured me it was. It's like there are certain waves of grief to be expected with the loss of a baby. We all go through it. And it's totally normal.
    Here's a post I wrote a few months back that goes along with this one:

    "Today was one of those days.

    One of those days that catches me off guard and suddenly it's hard to breathe, hard to think, as I yet again take in this reality that she is gone forever and I will never again, not once, hold her on this side of Heaven.

    And I never know when it's going to hit me. I'll be going along fine for several days...weeks. Then, suddenly, I am choking back the tears and my throat is all scratchy and every bit of me misses her. This heart that is a mother's heart misses the soul that made me a mother.

    We dance through life, this sacred dance of grief and joy. And one minute we're laughing and full of life, and the next, grieving and crying...yet, each moment, we live on love. We cling to His love.

    And those moments where it's hardest to live without her, like when mom says "Not many people even know I'm a grandmother," and my heart breaks because I know she already is. And I don't know when she'll be a grandmother to a baby she gets to see grow, though it's what she longs for more than anything...It's in those moments that I remember who He is and what He's brought me through. I remember that she is with Him...

    And my heart and mind play and replay what life might be like with a 16-month old. Yet, I barely know what to imagine. Imagine...I must imagine what my own child would look like. Would she be a tiny peanut, or a chubby thing? Would she be spunky and adventurous or calm and subdued? How different might my world look today if she were here? So many things I will never know. I cling to the memories of her...the most precious memories I will ever have. Until one sweet sweet day."

    A mix between fantasy and reality. That reminds me of so many feelings I've had...:

    This post isn't depressing, it is honest and gives a glimpse into a grieving mother's heart. I think it will be really encouraging for others to read that are going through the same feelings to see they aren't alone. And it will give people a greater understanding that haven't experienced a loss such as this.