Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:No, I don't relate to anything you said. I don't think of myself as having three children, just the two who are alive. I don't think of myself as having "an angel in heaven" or any of that stuff. I moved on. I never think about it except when someone comes along and tells me how I must feel because I lost a pregnancy at 31 weeks. And then all I feel is annoyed. I have to deal with who is HERE. It happened, it sucked, and I moved on.
OK, but you do realize that we are all different right? Please let us mourn without guilt.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:No, I don't relate to anything you said. I don't think of myself as having three children, just the two who are alive. I don't think of myself as having "an angel in heaven" or any of that stuff. I moved on. I never think about it except when someone comes along and tells me how I must feel because I lost a pregnancy at 31 weeks. And then all I feel is annoyed. I have to deal with who is HERE. It happened, it sucked, and I moved on.
OK, but you do realize that we are all different right? Please let us mourn without guilt.
Anonymous wrote:No, I don't relate to anything you said. I don't think of myself as having three children, just the two who are alive. I don't think of myself as having "an angel in heaven" or any of that stuff. I moved on. I never think about it except when someone comes along and tells me how I must feel because I lost a pregnancy at 31 weeks. And then all I feel is annoyed. I have to deal with who is HERE. It happened, it sucked, and I moved on.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I just lost my baby 20 days ago, though my loss was not "late term." It is still an enormous loss with insurmountable grief.
When my baby died, I lost my child, my dreams for the future, my everything.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate my child's birth.
I lost the opportunity to hear my child's first worda.
I lost the opportunity to see my child walk.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate all birthdays.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate first days of school.
I lost the opportunity to see my child graduate from high school and college.
I lost all my dreams.
It is a pain that has no comparison.
It’s OP - 20 days agoI am so very sorry! My tears right now are for you. I wish I could offer you words of comfort. But, I can’t. I’m human and went through it and it certainly is a pain that has no comparison. It’s like having the wind knocked out of you. If it helps at all, I will be thinking of you today, all day. I’ll be thinking of your child and praying for the peace you will find in time. Take special care of yourself right now.
Thank you.![]()
Sachnday, it's getting a little easier to breathe and smile. I still have a huge cry each morning, but I'm learning to cope. Slowly.
It’s Op- You seem incredibly strong. Stronger than I was at the time. I hope you have good support surrounding you right now. Although, I didn’t really want it because I was drained to the core, it was too hard to even listen to what anyone was saying. Hope posting here made you feel less alone in this time of sorrow. Just going to throw xoxoxo’s your way.
The first 72 hours were excrutiating. Suffocating. Beyond overwhelming. I absolutely drowning in my grief. I felt as if I couldn't breathe at all. The combination of raging hormones, overwhelming grief, and massive sleep deprivation was just way too much to handle. I couldn't imagine that I'd possibly be able to survive this loss.
The next five days were also extraordinarily difficult, but I felt I could catch my breath a little more often with each passing day. I cried about 12 hours a day, but I was able to semi-function for about 3-5 hours per day.
The following four days were tough, but I was able to breathe. I couldn't yet smile, but I could breathe. I cried about 4-6 hours each day, but I was semi-functional most of the day. I was finally able to do laundry, vacuum, and take care of other chores.
By days 13- 19, things had turned around a little more. I had two crying spells each day, each 30-60 minutes in length, but I felt much more like myself.
Today's actually been a little harder. I'm "faking" my way through the day, but my heart hurts, aches, a lot today. Grief comes in waves, and the waves are a little bigger today than they have been the past several days.
OP again - You’re incredible! Suffocating, drowning, crying until exhaustion. Then you have no choice but to breathe. 15 years ago for me, but what you describe is exactly as I remember it. I did hyperventilate when my still born was delivered. I felt like I was suffocating. But, his twin was still inside and because he was a fraternal twin, he would come weeks later. I had to breathe for him, but I couldn’t because I was “ drowning in my grief”. They had to take my stillborn son away and promised I could see him later. I was hysterical begging them to let DH go with them and the baby. I remember crying, don’t let him go alone. I was worried he would be scared and lost and he needed me. Maternal hormones are the real deal. Crying now so must stop typing... I’ll go and fake it through the day with you. Thinking of you xo
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I just lost my baby 20 days ago, though my loss was not "late term." It is still an enormous loss with insurmountable grief.
When my baby died, I lost my child, my dreams for the future, my everything.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate my child's birth.
I lost the opportunity to hear my child's first worda.
I lost the opportunity to see my child walk.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate all birthdays.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate first days of school.
I lost the opportunity to see my child graduate from high school and college.
I lost all my dreams.
It is a pain that has no comparison.
It’s OP - 20 days agoI am so very sorry! My tears right now are for you. I wish I could offer you words of comfort. But, I can’t. I’m human and went through it and it certainly is a pain that has no comparison. It’s like having the wind knocked out of you. If it helps at all, I will be thinking of you today, all day. I’ll be thinking of your child and praying for the peace you will find in time. Take special care of yourself right now.
Thank you.![]()
Sachnday, it's getting a little easier to breathe and smile. I still have a huge cry each morning, but I'm learning to cope. Slowly.
It’s Op- You seem incredibly strong. Stronger than I was at the time. I hope you have good support surrounding you right now. Although, I didn’t really want it because I was drained to the core, it was too hard to even listen to what anyone was saying. Hope posting here made you feel less alone in this time of sorrow. Just going to throw xoxoxo’s your way.
The first 72 hours were excrutiating. Suffocating. Beyond overwhelming. I absolutely drowning in my grief. I felt as if I couldn't breathe at all. The combination of raging hormones, overwhelming grief, and massive sleep deprivation was just way too much to handle. I couldn't imagine that I'd possibly be able to survive this loss.
The next five days were also extraordinarily difficult, but I felt I could catch my breath a little more often with each passing day. I cried about 12 hours a day, but I was able to semi-function for about 3-5 hours per day.
The following four days were tough, but I was able to breathe. I couldn't yet smile, but I could breathe. I cried about 4-6 hours each day, but I was semi-functional most of the day. I was finally able to do laundry, vacuum, and take care of other chores.
By days 13- 19, things had turned around a little more. I had two crying spells each day, each 30-60 minutes in length, but I felt much more like myself.
Today's actually been a little harder. I'm "faking" my way through the day, but my heart hurts, aches, a lot today. Grief comes in waves, and the waves are a little bigger today than they have been the past several days.
OP again - You’re incredible! Suffocating, drowning, crying until exhaustion. Then you have no choice but to breathe. 15 years ago for me, but what you describe is exactly as I remember it. I did hyperventilate when my still born was delivered. I felt like I was suffocating. But, his twin was still inside and because he was a fraternal twin, he would come weeks later. I had to breathe for him, but I couldn’t because I was “ drowning in my grief”. They had to take my stillborn son away and promised I could see him later. I was hysterical begging them to let DH go with them and the baby. I remember crying, don’t let him go alone. I was worried he would be scared and lost and he needed me. Maternal hormones are the real deal. Crying now so must stop typing... I’ll go and fake it through the day with you. Thinking of you xo
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I just lost my baby 20 days ago, though my loss was not "late term." It is still an enormous loss with insurmountable grief.
When my baby died, I lost my child, my dreams for the future, my everything.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate my child's birth.
I lost the opportunity to hear my child's first worda.
I lost the opportunity to see my child walk.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate all birthdays.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate first days of school.
I lost the opportunity to see my child graduate from high school and college.
I lost all my dreams.
It is a pain that has no comparison.
It’s OP - 20 days agoI am so very sorry! My tears right now are for you. I wish I could offer you words of comfort. But, I can’t. I’m human and went through it and it certainly is a pain that has no comparison. It’s like having the wind knocked out of you. If it helps at all, I will be thinking of you today, all day. I’ll be thinking of your child and praying for the peace you will find in time. Take special care of yourself right now.
Thank you.![]()
Sachnday, it's getting a little easier to breathe and smile. I still have a huge cry each morning, but I'm learning to cope. Slowly.
It’s Op- You seem incredibly strong. Stronger than I was at the time. I hope you have good support surrounding you right now. Although, I didn’t really want it because I was drained to the core, it was too hard to even listen to what anyone was saying. Hope posting here made you feel less alone in this time of sorrow. Just going to throw xoxoxo’s your way.
The first 72 hours were excrutiating. Suffocating. Beyond overwhelming. I absolutely drowning in my grief. I felt as if I couldn't breathe at all. The combination of raging hormones, overwhelming grief, and massive sleep deprivation was just way too much to handle. I couldn't imagine that I'd possibly be able to survive this loss.
The next five days were also extraordinarily difficult, but I felt I could catch my breath a little more often with each passing day. I cried about 12 hours a day, but I was able to semi-function for about 3-5 hours per day.
The following four days were tough, but I was able to breathe. I couldn't yet smile, but I could breathe. I cried about 4-6 hours each day, but I was semi-functional most of the day. I was finally able to do laundry, vacuum, and take care of other chores.
By days 13- 19, things had turned around a little more. I had two crying spells each day, each 30-60 minutes in length, but I felt much more like myself.
Today's actually been a little harder. I'm "faking" my way through the day, but my heart hurts, aches, a lot today. Grief comes in waves, and the waves are a little bigger today than they have been the past several days.
Anonymous wrote:I lost 3 children. One at 24 weeks and twins at 24.5 weeks. It’s been years but I’ll never forget. We ended up adopting. I love my children so much. One thing I struggle with was the fact that I would not be raising my children now if my bio kids had survived. Sometimes loving my kids feels like I’m doing something wrong because it was only through the deaths of my first children that I was given the opportunity and honor of being mom to these kids.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I just lost my baby 20 days ago, though my loss was not "late term." It is still an enormous loss with insurmountable grief.
When my baby died, I lost my child, my dreams for the future, my everything.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate my child's birth.
I lost the opportunity to hear my child's first worda.
I lost the opportunity to see my child walk.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate all birthdays.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate first days of school.
I lost the opportunity to see my child graduate from high school and college.
I lost all my dreams.
It is a pain that has no comparison.
It’s OP - 20 days agoI am so very sorry! My tears right now are for you. I wish I could offer you words of comfort. But, I can’t. I’m human and went through it and it certainly is a pain that has no comparison. It’s like having the wind knocked out of you. If it helps at all, I will be thinking of you today, all day. I’ll be thinking of your child and praying for the peace you will find in time. Take special care of yourself right now.
Thank you.![]()
Sachnday, it's getting a little easier to breathe and smile. I still have a huge cry each morning, but I'm learning to cope. Slowly.
It’s Op- You seem incredibly strong. Stronger than I was at the time. I hope you have good support surrounding you right now. Although, I didn’t really want it because I was drained to the core, it was too hard to even listen to what anyone was saying. Hope posting here made you feel less alone in this time of sorrow. Just going to throw xoxoxo’s your way.
Anonymous wrote:I lost 3 children. One at 24 weeks and twins at 24.5 weeks. It’s been years but I’ll never forget. We ended up adopting. I love my children so much. One thing I struggle with was the fact that I would not be raising my children now if my bio kids had survived. Sometimes loving my kids feels like I’m doing something wrong because it was only through the deaths of my first children that I was given the opportunity and honor of being mom to these kids.
Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:Anonymous wrote:I just lost my baby 20 days ago, though my loss was not "late term." It is still an enormous loss with insurmountable grief.
When my baby died, I lost my child, my dreams for the future, my everything.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate my child's birth.
I lost the opportunity to hear my child's first worda.
I lost the opportunity to see my child walk.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate all birthdays.
I lost the opportunity to celebrate first days of school.
I lost the opportunity to see my child graduate from high school and college.
I lost all my dreams.
It is a pain that has no comparison.
It’s OP - 20 days agoI am so very sorry! My tears right now are for you. I wish I could offer you words of comfort. But, I can’t. I’m human and went through it and it certainly is a pain that has no comparison. It’s like having the wind knocked out of you. If it helps at all, I will be thinking of you today, all day. I’ll be thinking of your child and praying for the peace you will find in time. Take special care of yourself right now.
Thank you.![]()
Sachnday, it's getting a little easier to breathe and smile. I still have a huge cry each morning, but I'm learning to cope. Slowly.