Stolen

Somedays it just hurts more than others. Sometimes, its like it really didn't happen and its just this crazy, horrible dream. And somedays the memories of him kicking, turning and twisting in my belly are painful reminders of the life I never got to hold. Yes, I held Caden, but not the moving and breathing little boy that lived in me- the silent, still, lifeless infant that was stolen from me. Stolen- that's exactly what seems to describe it best. My hopes and dreams for Caden were stolen.I would never get to see him grow, who he would look more like as he grew. I would never get to know what his personality was like. I would never get to see his first smile, his first tooth, his first steps- all moments stolen, gone forever for Caden. When I see my other two boys it is a reminder of things I will never get to see in Caden. NEVER.  And that part make my heart ache.

Still not quite ready to face the world, Facebook is my portal, but every newborn post and picture is a painful reminder of what I won't have with Caden .I admit that there is some jealousy there, ok there is a lot of jealousy there. Today I saw a picture of a a friend's beautiful little newborn sleeping on his dad's chest. Jealousy once again creeps in because that moment was stolen from my husband and from me. The feeling of nursing him...stolen.  I cherished the boy that grew inside me, but it wasn't always easy...morning sickness, panicked moments, trips to a far away hospital for special sonograms, added weight, plantar fascitis, discomfort...all worth it...when you get that prize...your beautiful baby. But my prize was stolen and I can never have it back.  Every time that realization hits, its like I am whisked back to that moment, the moment that we couldn't find his heartbeat.  When my chest became tight,  the room began to fade, the world seemed to stop and I felt as though I couldn't breathe. I wonder how and when it will ever stop hurting so much, when that realization hits, sometimes without warning,  about what was stolen from me and would never be returned.

Here at 27 weeks, his little heart beat strong

Today, I was working on the movie about my sweet boy. I started watching the DVD of his ultrasound done in March to include in the movie. I saw his little heart beating away and I cried, cried so hard that it hurt. We were so close, right there his little heart was beating.  Tuesday afternoon on May 15th his heart was beating. I wish I could have held him and felt his little heart beating. I even admit that I am jealous of the women whose babies lived even for a few minutes, hours or days, because at least they have the memories of holding their baby alive and feeling that heart beat.That moment was stolen from me. It is just so unfair, why my boy? Why? There are drug addicts, alcoholics,  and women that care little about anything but themselves who have babies born alive. Some babies are born weighing a pound or two and survive. But my little boy who was almost five pounds with no obvious health problems who came from an imperfect, but loving mother who took care of herself and the little baby inside, did not. I feel robbed. My little boy was stolen and I will never every get him back.


Loving you and missing Caden, today and always.