Sunday, December 11, 2011

Made it through the weekend

Today I feel sick. I just feel sick to my stomach. What makes me sick? The fact that this is my reality. My baby is dead and he's never coming back. I have to tell myself this every day, multiple times a day. I just can't fully comprehend what has happened, even a month later. Some moments I feel like I am in a horrible nightmare and just wait for myself to wake up. There is no waking up though. This is life, Marcellus is gone. Other moments I think maybe I dreamed the whole thing, the pregnancy, his birth, and his death. Maybe none of it ever happened. But then I see my c-section incision scar, proof that my baby was here and that he is real.

Today I just want to disappear. I don't know how I am still living. How have a made it a month without my little mister? How will I continue to do so? It often hurts just to breath. People say "I don't know how you to it," and honestly neither do I. I just don't have a choice. This is my life and I have to do it. Most days the only thing that gets me through is that each day that goes by is another day closer to being with Marcellus again. I try to remind myself that this lifetime is just seconds compared to eternity. One day I will be with Marcellus again in Heaven. It doesn't make this life any easier to live though, just gives a reason to get through it.

Now that I've gotten out how I feel, let me share what went on this weekend. Friday evening we held an Angel Birthday Party for Marcellus. Right after he died we flew to MN (where are families are) and had his funeral there. We were gone for 3 weeks. We decided we wanted to have a casual memorial service for Marcellus here in NC. Many of our friends never got to meet him and as proud parents we wanted to show him off! We told his story and shared pictures. I was amazed at how many people came. It really speaks to how many lives Marcellus was able to touch in his short time. When people left they all said the same thing, "thank for doing this." I didn't expect that as we weren't doing it for them. We were doing it for Marcellus, for our family. I appreciate everyone that came and wanted to get to know our son. I will always welcome questions about Marcellus, including his birth and his death. There are so many other memories we have to share that we just didn't have time for that night. I hope no one ever hesitates to talk about him.

Yesterday we were completely exhausted. It took me awhile to get out of bed. The main difficulty about getting up is that I just don't know what to do with myself once I am up. I should have a baby to take care of, but since he's not here I am so lost as to what to do. Mike and I were able to spend some quality time at the cemetery. Yes, I said quality time at the cemetery. Being away from Marcellus's grave has been hard for us. So we go to cemeteries here (we've been to two different ones) and find the baby section. It is a way for us to feel connected to Marcellus and to also remember we are not alone in this difficult journey. We then decided to try to go out for supper. We decided we didn't want to cook (and by we, I mean Mike...I haven't even come close to attempting to cook yet). Well we made it through, but it was hard. It was busy and loud. At least it seemed loud to us, but sometimes I think we are just super sensitive to everything. There was a crying baby across the restaurant that made my heart ache. As we were waiting for our check there was a couple that walked by. She was pregnant. I looked at Mike and said, "I should have a pregnant belly right now," and he said "Yeah, a BIG pregnant belly." I just sat there and envisioned what my BIG pregnant belly would be like. This is about the time we'd seriously start getting everything ready for Marcellus, he was due Jan 15.

Last night we didn't sleep well. Our dog, Perkie, woke us up in the middle of the night with some pretty violent sneezing. We turned on the light and checked on him. We continued to check on him with every little noise he made. Neither of us were bothered by this or complained about being awake. I think part of it is that we should have our baby to get up with in the night. With Marcellus gone, we are focusing our parenting energy to Perk. That has continued into today. While Mike's been at work I've been texting him updates on how the dog is doing. I can't help but think about all the updates I would have sent him when I was home with Marcellus. I can just think of them now "Another poopy diaper!", "He's eating AGAIN", "Naptime!" and of course there would be endless pictures sent as well. I'm not just missing my son, I'm missing all these little things that come with having a child, I'm missing my motherhood.

Even after all of that we have survived the weekend. We are still here and we are still trying. With Mike by my side we will do this.

Marcellus, Mommy's hanging on today. Even though you are no longer here on earth, you are still my strength. Love and missing you!


  1. I too had to tell myself "my baby is dead" over and over. I didn't want to believe it and I guess I thought by saying it then it would be more real? But then I would think about those words and want to just give up. What was the point of living? You're right though, every day that passes brings us one day closer to our babies. I can't wait for that day!!!

    I can't believe you went out to eat! Too many people. We ate a lot of pizza :)

    I do the same thing with our dogs even now!!! Charlie, my cocker spaniel, almost became like a baby for me. I needed to channel my love and desire to care for my child into something else and he was it. I still talk about them constantly because with Ryan gone they are what I come home to. They are the ones that make me feel needed and loved...

  2. It's amazing how those that have lost babies experience so many of the same feelings. So many of the things you say remind me of things I've said and written. This post reminds of one I wrote a couple months after losing Lily:

    Many people have asked me as well, "how do you do it? I couldn't handle it." It's not like we've chosen this for ourselves. It's not like we have a choice. And it's true, you don't have the strength and grace to get through something, until the moment you need it, until it actually happens and then God will give you what you need...not a moment too soon or too late.

    Because of having Lily, I now have an eternal perspective. Trivial things in life no longer matter and I find myself longing for Heaven and being with her forever.

    That is so amazing that you had a special service here in NC for Marcellus! I am so glad you have that support and people want to know him, rather than avoid it because they are uncomfortable. His life is affecting so many others already!

    After losing Lily, it gripped my heart every time I saw a new baby, heard a new baby, or saw a pregnant woman, even though I made it fullterm and wasn't supposed to be pregnant anymore. Yet, my mind was stuck on my pregnancy because it was the last time she was alive. Even still, it is hard to see little ones that are toddlers, the age Lily should be. Yet, I find it more difficult to see newborns. In my heart, she will always be my baby. My newborn. Because that's all I ever knew of her.

    It's really hard for me as well since Lily's buried in my hometown in Virginia. I only get to go there once every few months. And even still, I don't like going very much because I haven't been able to afford getting her a headstone. I hate that. And I feel guilty about not going. And it stinks being so far away. It's really tough.

    I love this that you said: "I'm missing all these little things that come with having a child, I'm missing my motherhood." It's so true and perfectly captures it. With losing a baby, it's such an odd grief. Unlike grieving the loss of a parent or grandparent where you grieve the past, with a baby you are grieving a future, and all your hopes and dreams for that life. This also reminds me of a post I wrote:

    It feels so strange, especially in the first few months, for your arms to ache, to feel empty. To feel like you don't know what to do. I completely "get it."