Happy New Year

This year was truly bittersweet. 2012 felt like such a relief for me. We had survived 2011, our first year without Dylan. There were many days that I didn't want to go on and many days that I felt no reason to. But 2012 brought hope. We were pregnant again and had made it through the first 4 months. After losing a child, there is no longer a "safe" time in pregnancy. After all, Dylan had made it to 39 weeks. 39!!! And he still died...

The first five months of 2012 were extremely difficult. I'm not going to lie. Every day I was convinced that Lola was dead. She didn't move enough, she moved too much. I just wanted that baby out of my body where she could be safe. Weird logic, right? This is how loss moms think. Your body becomes more dangerous than the outside world. But, thankfully, Lola made it and arrived safely on May 31st!

And now the sweet part of the year comes in. Lola has brought such happiness to my life that I thought I could never find again. She doesn't even come close to replacing Dylan. That's impossible. She doesn't erase the pain. She doesn't fill the permanent hold in my heart. She does give me a reason to wake up again. She brings a smile to my face and tears to my eyes. The love I have for her will always be different than my love for Dylan. She will always be my source of hope in the darkest of times.

So, Dylan, I think of you tonight as another year comes to an end. My heart hurts that I can't go upstairs and check on you, see you sleeping peacefully in dinosaur pjs. You will live on through Lola, and I am a better mother because of that.

Happy New Year in heaven, sweet boy!

38 weeks

On this date in 2010, I went to my last doctor's appointment with Dylan. I was 38 weeks and 1 day. It was the last time I heard his heartbeat from inside me. I wasn't dilated, he hadn't "dropped". I remember the doctor saying that it was possible he was a big baby. That freaked me out a little, but I was still looking forward to his birth. I figured we wouldn't be meeting him until after Christmas. As I left the appointment, it had snowed and frozen my windshield. My best friend Melissa was pregnant also, was at her anatomy ultrasound at the same time, and I talked to her while I defrosted my car. She was having a boy, too! I couldn't believe we were both having little boys who would grow up as friends. If only that were true...

I think of this week in history, December 13-18th, 2010, as the last week of my old self. The former Missy, who was a lot more carefree and felt that bad things really did only happen to other people- until they happened to me. The former Missy who never imagined how life-changing having my first baby would be, and how since then I've lived a "new normal". I had no idea how much love I had in me until Dylan arrived or how heart wrenching it is to let your child go.

38 weeks and 1 day. What I would give to go back in time and feel that sweet baby kick me again, rub my belly one last time, dream about what life was going to be like with him here.

And so begins the countdown to his birthday. We will be celebrating, but not like normal families do. We will get together, eat and have cake. But no one will blow out the candles. There won't be presents, noisemakers or party hats. There won't be a birthday boy sitting in a special chair having his picture taken. Instead, he'll be with us in our hearts. I will be wearing my waterproof mascara that day.

Thank you, Dylan

Today I am thankful for all the wonderful things I have: great friends and supportive family, my job and co-workers that I consider friends, a warm home where the bills are paid and there is food in our fridge, 4 furry friends who bring a smile to my face, my crazy husband who loves me despite my faults, and a beautiful baby girl who melts my heart with her big blue eyes. I am thankful for the life that I have, even though it's not what I had ever imagined or planned for. I am thankful for my two beautiful children: one that I held as she fell asleep in my arms tonight; the other who lives on every day in my heart, helping me to be the strong, compassionate, loving and attentive mother, wife, sister, daughter, friend that I am today. Dylan has shown me a side of myself that I never knew existed, and for that, I am truly thankful.

Waterproof mascara

I'm laying in bed, wide awake. Remembering, daydreaming, grieving my sweet boy who should be 22 months old, running around the house, pulling kitty tails, smashing Tonka trucks, kissing his little sister on the cheek. I should be preparing to take both of them Trick-or-Treating on Wednesday- Lola as a goldfish, Dylan as a superhero? Monster? Dinosaur? What would he be? How would I convince him that he can't eat all the candy in one night?

I can see the picture in my head, it's REAL. We should be that family of four- a little boy AND a little girl- perfect, as so many people have told me when I tell them about my two children. Nothing about our life is perfect, though. Lola has brought me joy, happiness and healing, but she also brings great sorrow when I look into her eyes and long for her big brother. She would not be here if it hadn't been for him.

I had no previous plans of getting pregnant 9 months after he was born. We probably would have just started discussing it after his first birthday- instead, I was already 15 weeks pregnant then, grief-stricken and terrified. I am so grateful that we were able to get pregnant again, however, and never took that pregnancy for granted- not for a SINGLE moment!

I still can't comprehend how I am a functioning member of society. A lot of people in my situation would have just crumbled. I often wish that I had, maybe taken a little Valium vacation in my bed. Just checked out for awhile. Perhaps that's why I am always so exhausted and tense. Did I give myself permission to really grieve, or did I hold it all in, causing such deep depression that I thought I would never surface from? It's amazing how the possibility and hope of new life can shake you awake again.

So, as I look down as my sheets, streaked with black, I am reminded that my switch last month to regular mascara was a bit premature. Looks like I'll be heading to Target soon to pick up more waterproof mascara. For some, it's the start of the "most wonderful time of the year". For the Mathewses, it will forever be a season of joy mixed with sorrow. This year we'll be celebrating Lola's first Christmas and Dylan's 2nd birthday.

Someday soon we all will be together,
If the fates allow.
Until then we'll have to muddle through somehow.
So have yourself a merry little Christmas now.

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.