December 18th, 2010

On the night you were born,
The moon smiled with such wonder
That the stars peeked in to see you
And the night wind whispered,
“Life will never be the same.”
Because there had never been anyone like you…ever in the world.
So enchanted with you were the wind and the rain
That they whispered the sound of your wonderful name.
It sailed through the farmland
High on the breeze…
Over the ocean…
And through the trees…
Until everyone heard it
And everyone knew
Of the one and only ever you.
Not once had there been such eyes,
Such a nose,
Such silly, wiggly, wonderful toes.
When the polar bears heard,
They danced until dawn.
From faraway places,
The geese flew home.
The moon stayed up until
Morning next day.
And none of the ladybugs flew away.
So whenever you doubt just how special you are
And you wonder who loves you, how much and how far,
Listen for geese honking high in the sky.
(They’re singing a song to remember you by.)
Or notice the bears asleep at the zoo.
(It’s because they’ve been dancing all night for you!)
Or drift off to sleep to the sound of the wind.
(Listen closely…it’s whispering your name again!)
If the moon stays up until morning one day,
Or a ladybug lands and decides to stay,
Or a little bird sits at your window awhile,
It’s because they’re all hoping to see you smile…
For never before in story or rhyme
(not even once upon a time)
Has the world ever known a you, my friend,
And it never will, not ever again…
Heaven blew every trumpet
And played every horn
On the wonderful, marvelous
Night you were born.


~ Nancy Tillman


Sigh. I will never forget that night- what I was doing, the snow on the ground, the fear, the sound of the ambulance, the EMT telling me I was going to become a mommy, the overhead lights in the hospital, the mask going over my face, and then waking up to find out that Dylan had survived.

I've worked through a lot of the trauma, but how do I come to terms with never getting to see my baby grow up? How am I supposed to accept that he'll never actually be here to celebrate his birthday? I don't know. I guess I don't have a choice.

Baby Squirt

We found out that on October 5th that Dylan is going to be a big brother.  Talk about bittersweet.  We have wanted this since February and it seemed to take forever.  I know our hearts needed some time to heal before we could open them up to another baby.  Sometimes it still feels too soon.  Dylan's birthday is in 17 days; Christmas in 24; the baby is now 12 weeks and I am moving into the second trimester.  I have so many emotions running through me and so many thoughts clouding my head; I'm not even sure how to separate them anymore.  I feel so torn between trying to find positivity and be excited about this new life and grieving my sweet baby whose life was cut way too short.  I am beyond terrified of something happening to this baby, too, but for the most part, it is all out of my control.  The past year has felt totally out of my control, and I hate it.  I have to believe that we will have a happy outcome this time, but I have to convince myself of that daily.  Dylan is the Squid.  This baby is the Squirt.  We hope to meet the Squirt in 6 months or less, and we hope to bring this baby home to Dylan's nursery, happy and healthy.  Safe and sound.

It's a Boy!

This day last year I was a nervous wreck.  We were scheduled for our 20 week anatomy scan, and I was so afraid of something being wrong with the baby.  I didn't care what the gender was, but I had a feeling it was a boy.  I remember tearing up in the waiting room because I was so scared.  Then when we saw our baby on the big screen, swimming around, holding his legs with his hands and sticking his butt out at us, I couldn't help but smile and laugh.  I was so relieved.  Baby Mathews was perfect and a little boy!  We left the office with 3 pictures and huge grins.  I went home and texted about 90 people to let them know.  I went to Babies R Us and bought him a few things to celebrate.  What a happy day.

Now, one year later, I am so sad thinking back.  I thought once we got past that hurdle and everything was okay, that Dylan was a sure thing.  I never imagined that I would lose him.  I read horror stories about it, but never thought it would end up being me.  Dylan was absolutely perfect, but my body failed him.  It's a hard pill to swallow.  I know, well hope, that I didn't do anything to cause his death, but it doesn't make my guilt as his mother any easier.  However, I am grateful for this memory today.  I hope that I will always remember how happy I was then.

7 Months...

This time 7 months ago I was completely unaware of the crap that was about to become my life.  Dylan was born on 12/18/10 at 9:28 p.m. after I abrupted approximately 50 minutes before.  I thought my water had broken and I was so excited.  How can life change so violently in only seconds?  I knew he was going to die.  I had read the baby books.  I have a sister who is a labor and delivery nurse.  I knew that hemorrhaging meant he wasn't getting oxygen.  I wanted the EMTs to move faster.  Why did they keep asking me stupid questions life my birthdate and social security number?  Just get this baby out of me or he will die!  He didn't have a chance.  He wasn't meant to be.

I hate that I couldn't come home from work tonight and hug and kiss him.  I hate that this house is always so quiet when I know it should be filled with crying and babbling.  I hate that I don't even recognize myself anymore.  I know I used to smile and enjoy life.  Where did that Missy go?  She's with Dylan and I don't know if she's ever coming back.

 I love you baby boy.  Hope you're enjoying marking 7 months in heaven.  xoxo

How do I make him proud?

I've been struggling a lot over the past almost 7 months on how to make Dylan proud of me.  I feel like all I do with my time is work, play on my phone and cry.  Not exactly what I thought I would be doing in 2011.  I had expected this year to be full of Dylan's first year of life.  I am constantly imagining what he'd be doing right now, what I would be doing with him, instead of whatever it is that I am doing at that moment.  It's as if 2010 never existed, and Tom and I are newlyweds again.  It's bizarre.  We had spent so much time planning for him and just expecting him to be here.  He was a sure thing.  Now what?  How do I use what has happened for some type of good?  How do I make sure that his life has some meaning and purpose?  I want to know that he's watching me and smiling.