This might come off morbid… Maybe it is… I don’t know… But sometimes I wish I had been further along with Jacey when I lost her.
I know losing a baby is traumatic… A miscarriage is traumatic… But one of the biggest things that haunts me about it… is the fact I never got to see her. I never got to touch her, hold her, kiss her, bury her… Take a picture of her. I never got that…
I’d have done anything to just see her…even if only for a moment…
And sometimes… That bothers me.
I haven’t wrote a poem… In years. But, I just felt inspired to write one today… And I did…
I never got to hold you.
I never saw your face.
But deep inside my heart,
You’ll always hold a place.
I never heard your heart beat,
But I know that it was there.
I never saw you on an ultrasound,
I never got a peek,
I never got to lay you in the ground,
I never knew your future would be so very bleak.
I never got to kiss your cheeks,
I never got to stroke your hair,
I carried you with me only a few short weeks,
And I wonder every day what it would be like,
If you were here instead of there.
Someone once said that time heals all,
But someone never lost a child so very small.
The heartache never ceases,
It may not be as intense as it was to start,
But that’s because I’ve gotten used to
This stabbing pain inside my heart.
The tears are always there,
Just beneath the surface,
I remember thinking how unfair,
That you should have to leave me
before I was prepared.
I remember the desolation,
The resignation, and the overwhelming sorrow,
I remember giving up, life just wasn’t enough.
I remember wishing it had been me instead of you,
And even to this day,
Sometimes I still do.
People tell me to be grateful, that I wasn’t further along
And sometimes I think they’re right,
But other times they’re wrong.
At least I could have held you,
And seen your angel face,
I could have kissed your cheeks,
And smoothed your hair in place,
What I would’ve done,
To get a few more weeks with you.
I could have held you to my heart,
I could have said good bye,
I never got to look into your eyes,
I never heard you cry.
This hurt will never soften,
And even though I’ve learned to cope,
I still think of you so often,
And wish that you were here.
I stumbled upon this, and it really touched me…
“My Mom is a survivor
Or so I’ve heard it said
But I can hear her crying
When all other are in bed
I watch her lay awake at night
And go to hold her hand
She’s doesn’t know I’m with her
To help her understand
But like the sands upon the beach
That never wash away…
I wach over my surviving Mom,
Who thinks of me each day
She wears a smile for others…
A smile of disguise
But through heaven’s open door
I see tears flowing from her eyes
My Mom tries to cope with my death
To keep my memory alive
But anyone who knows her
Knows it’s her way to survive
As I watch over my surviving Mom
Through heaven’s open door…
I try to tell her
Angels protect me forevermore
I know that doesn’t help her
Or ease the burden she bears
So if you get a chance, talk to her
And show her that you care
For no matter what she says…
No matter what she feels
My surviving Mom has a broken heart
That time won’t ever heal. “
I lost my baby Jacey on August 3rd, 2008. It was by far one of the most difficult times of my life. Honestly, I think you could combine every bad thing that’s ever happened to me, multiply it by a million and it would barely even compare to the agony and sorrow I experienced when I lost Jacey.
It’s been a long time… Almost two years now, but I still miss her. Everyday.
I wish I could have met her, even if only for a moment. I would have taken her place in a heartbeat.
I wish I could have known for sure that she really was a she, instead of having to rely on just my gut feeling.
I wish I would have gone to the doctor sooner… So there would at least be a record of her existence, other than the positive pregnancy tests, and my discharge paper from the hospital for “severe abdominal cramping and excessive hemorrhaging.” By the time I got there, my levels were barely an 8. I wish I would have gone sooner. I wish I could have gotten something, something in writing, stating she was really there.
I wish I wouldn’t have looked when they did the ultrasound. Before they did it, I kept hoping that “maybe its just a little bleeding. Maybe she’s okay. Maybe it’s nothing.” But when I looked up at that screen and saw absolutely nothing, I started sobbing harder than I ever have. Heart-wrenching, body-shaking sobs. Looking at that screen, it made reality set in. A reality I wasn’t prepared to handle.
I wish I would have wrote her one more letter. I had made a goal to write in a journal for her every day. From the time I got the journal, to the time I lost her, I wrote three letters. I wish I wouldn’t have skipped a few days.
I wish I was able to throw the pregnancy tests away… But I can’t. Those sticks dipped in pee are all I really have left of her. I can’t just let that go. I’ve thought of burning them. And putting the ashes in an urn. But I don’t think plastic will turn to ash.
I wish it didn’t hurt so much. The grief isn’t as intense as it was in the beginning, but it still hurts just as much.
I wish I could stop crying. I still cry about it. I don’t think a week goes by where I don’t think of it, and wonder what she would have been like.
I wish I could stop having these dreams about her. I don’t have them all the time, but when I do, it’s all of us. Maddi, Danny, Jacey and I… We’re all so happy. And I’m just so filled with joy… That when I wake up, and realize she isn’t here, I feel like my heart is breaking all over again. I know that if she had been born, there wouldn’t be a Danny, but still… In my dreams, we’re all there.
I wish I wouldn’t have let myself become so stressed when I was still pregnant with her. I wish that she could have spent her short life in a calm and peaceful place. I wish I could have at least given her that.
I wish I could have traded places with her. But I know that wasn’t possible.
I wish I hadn’t been so filled with hate after I lost her. It seemed like as soon as I lost her, everyone I knew, and everyone I saw was pregnant. Fate was being cruel. While waiting to get my pain medication after I lost her, I saw five pregnant women, in less than fifteen minutes. I went into a stall at Fred Meyers and cried even harder. And when one of my friends announced to me that she was pregnant, just a week or two later… I wasn’t happy for her. I was so angry. I hated her for it. I wish I hadn’t been that way. I wish I just could have been a good friend and been happy for her.
I wish I wouldn’t have hated Jane for what she did. But it was so hard for me not to hate her, when she chose to end her baby’s life… And I would have done anything to prevent my baby from dying.
I wish I would have been more prepared. Maybe it wouldn’t have been so traumatic… But at the same time, I don’t think that there is a way that anyone can prepare for something like that.
But most of all, I just wish it wouldn’t hurt so much. It’s been almost two years, and it still hurts. I still cry. I still miss her everyday.
I have made progress. Even though that progress is miniscule. I try to think of her in happy terms. That’s why I’m putting her name in the park. Somewhere happy, full of smiles, laughter and joy. Somewhere that can carry her name, and her memory in a happy way.
But it still hurts.