Now that I’ve rediscovered my blog, I’ve realized I’ve not written about Hud. I guess I was too busy experiencing motherhood and loving every second of it. Hudson Neal is the absolute best thing to ever happen to me. He has the most contagious smile/giggle and is so friendly toward everyone he meets. He is 16 months old with 6 tiny teeth and says more and more every day. He surprises me constantly with how smart he is.
Becoming a mom has truly changed me. It’s led me to be more patient, caring and just really opened up my heart to its full potential of loving. It isn’t easy, by any means. There have been countless sleepless nights full of tears (his and mine) and prayers for strength and patience. There have been times I’ve wondered if I am doing the best I can and whether or not I deserve such a wonderful son.
It’s easy to doubt yourself, especially as a mom. These days Instagram is full of gorgeous pictures of mothers who seem to have it all together with five kids in tow and it just baffles me. In my times of worry though, I sit back and think of my son.
He is head over heels for his mommy. When I get home from work he runs as fast as he can to me. If I’m doing dishes, he comes up behind me and hugs my legs. He blows me kisses and smiles the sweetest smile while waving at me just because he wants to say hi.
Hudson makes leaving home hard and coming home something I look forward to. I miss him when I’m gone and I’d rather spend every second of every day with him, than anywhere else.
Through the toughness of this past week, Hudson has been my beacon in the darkness. He is so unaware of what’s happened, it’s refreshing to just be around such a happy, incredible baby. In my times of doubt and depression, I know the God has a plan for us and though I mourn my beloved angel baby, Hudson is proof that God has not forsaken me.
It’s been 6 days since I found out about our baby not having a heart beat and 5 since my surgery. We spent the weekend at the beach with my family who made an effort to not talk about it and try to keep me happy and occupied.
It’s hard. Every second of the day I feel the emptiness. Nighttime is the hardest though. When I lay down with Zack and just cry and let him hold me until I stop weeping. When he looks at me and tells me he loves me I cry harder. I miss knowing that I’m growing a baby to share our love with. I miss last week, before I found out. When I could plan for the future, wonder what day I would be welcoming my second child into the world. I miss it.
I wanted to write my baby a letter to get what’s in my heart, in writing.
I hope you’ve found Neene and Sherry and that they’re taking the best care of you and only telling you good stories of your mommy. I hope you know how much your mommy and daddy loved you already. I hope you know that your brother would’ve helped you have the best life and I know that the two of you giggling together would’ve been the absolute best sound.
I want you to know that no matter how much time goes by, we will never forget you. You are and will always be loved beyond measure. You grew in my womb for 10 weeks and I loved every second, no matter how sick I may have been. Learning that your sweet little heart was no longer beating was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to let sink in. I wasn’t ready to say goodbye, I’d barely said hello.
I wanted to see all your firsts. I wanted to watch as you smiled for the first time and said your first word. I wanted to hold you, to kiss you, to cuddle and cry with you. I wanted to be your mommy. I wanted to love you in person, but since I’m unable to do so, loving your spirit will have to do.
This world is a cruel, mean place and it can surely be scary at times. But I’ve learned that if you surround yourself with people who love you and constantly lift you higher, you can get through anything. I will never get “over” being without you, but I know that I will get through the pain. I will love you ’til the day I die and get to meet you and I hope you will look over us down here.
Dear angel, we love you so much and we miss you more than anything. Everyone keeps saying time will make it easier but I know I’ll never go a day without thinking of you and what we could’ve had. I hope you opened your eyes to God and are resting peacefully. I hope it’s beautiful where you are and I want you to know that daddy and I will love you forever.
I am just so sad. Today I had my D&E and Dr. Delcharco removed my baby from me. I am in so much pain, I woke up from the anesthesia crying and asking for chapstick. I threw up at the surgery center when I got out of bed. Zack got me a sandwich, fruit and a cookie from McAlister’s on the way home. I felt ok when I got out of the car but once I started walking down the hall I passed out and woke up on the floor. I only remember having my hand on the wall to steady myself and then waking up to zack asking if I’m ok. He caught me when I fell. I got to bed and threw up again.
I was able to keep down my food and am watching Pitch Perfect and planning my tattoo for my unborn baby. I am just so sad. I can’t even begin to believe I’m not pregnant anymore and that all the things I’ve been planning… names, finding a double stroller, getting a maternity bathing suit for the keys… it’s all just gone now.
I know time will ease the pain and I know my next pregnancy should go perfectly fine. But I just can’t believe this has happened. I went to my appt so confident and excited and I left feeling like someone ripped my heart out of my chest. I’m so sad for my baby and I’m so sad for my husband. I’m so sad for me. I wanted that baby and loved it so much and I never got to even tell it. I just don’t understand why this had to happen to my sweet baby.
Nothing prepares you for death. Absolutely nothing. No matter how many people you’ve known that have passed away, it doesn’t make another life lost any easier.
Our baby has no heartbeat. Typing this is killing me. We went in for our first appt today and I’d managed to snag an ultrasound even though it isn’t customary at this point in a pregnancy at that Dr. We went in and the tech took some photos and left the room. The baby wasn’t moving nor did we get to hear a heartbeat. I knew in the pit of my stomach something was wrong- but I’d never have admitted it.
When they came in and told me that my baby had no heartbeat I just couldn’t stay composed. I can’t put into words how I felt and feel. Nothing anybody says can change this feeling. I know how common miscarriages are. I know it happened for a reason. I know I have one healthy child whom I should be thankful for. I know.
But I love this baby more than life itself. The second I saw the positive test I fell in love. I planned for its future. I pictured it with Hudson, I gave it a name and argued about the boy name with its father. A part of me is dead. Literally. I have a dead baby inside of me and I can’t fathom it.
This isn’t supposed to happen to us. We were supposed to see a little baby wiggling around in my tummy and laugh and cry with excitement knowing that in October we would be meeting it. I cannot wrap my head around this tragedy. I had absolutely no signs pointing toward this.
I don’t know what to say to people who are worried about me. I don’t know what to say to my husband. I don’t know what to say to myself. I feel like I’m in a nightmare and I wish more than anything I could wake up and see my sweet baby moving around and hear it’s sweet heartbeat.