Share your child with us

[melody]

On the adult child loss board, Pam started a thread called Come share your child with us.

I would like to start the thread here as well for those of us who have lost young child. We had one on the other board and I had it bookmarked but now it is gone.

[melody]

Our Matthew was in a hurry to arrive. His due date was July 9,1984 but on the morning of the 8th, my water broke and off to the hospital we went. His daddy was a minister and he got out of preaching that day since there seemed to be something a little more pressing at the time.

I had to have Matthew by C-section. He was precious 21in. long, and 8.3 Blue eyes like the ocean. Dark hair which came back blonde.

Matthew loved anything about nature, frogs, flowers, butterflies, you name it, he loved it. He also adored his big brother, who was 2 years and 4 days older. They were inseperable. Best buddies.

When Matthew was four we decided to make a dream come true by going to Salvador, Brazil as missionaries. My husband grew up in Belo Horizonte for 10 years of his life. We laughing joke that he never asked me to marry him, just to go to Brazil with him and I assumed that meant marriage.

We began our preperations which meant leaving our home in Happy, Texas of 6 1/2 years. One day, as Matthew was helping me to deliver meals on wheels, he asked in the childish way,
"Why does it hurt to do what Jesus wants us to do?" I didn't know how to answer but told him that I hurt, too and but that God would give us jewels in our crowns one day for all the time we hurt to do something good for Him.

We moved to Salvador, Bahia Brazil, December 7, 1989. We fell in love with the Atlantic ocean and we blessed that the three different houses we lived in were all within walking distance of the beach. Our last house, was only a five minute walk to the "Two Pools" a natural swimming hole when the tide was out and guarded by the farol of Itapoa, the lighthouse. I homeschooled our boys. We did everything together. They both spoke Portuguese. We loved it there.

Then, August 3 1991, Matthew awoke not feeling well. We spent the day playing games. That evening he was feeling better and we went to the beach to hunt for sea urchins and other wonderful creatures.

Sunday, Aug. 4, he had a fever. Monty and Micah went to church alone.
Matthew had a feveral convulsion while they were gone.
When Monty got home, we left Micah home alone knowing he would be ok with the neighbors around. Later our team mates picked him up and took him to their house.

We took Matthew to a children's clinic. The dr. there immediately thougth spinal menigitis. But we had to take him with a RX to another place to do the spinal tap. I sat in the car with Matthew for 30 minutes while Monty tried to make arrangements. They didn't do spinal taps for children so we had to find another place. They took my blue eyed boy into a room and them made us leave so they could do the spinal tap. IF I stop and think about it, I can still hear him scream from the pain of the needle.

The spinal tap came back NEGATIVE. We took the results back to the first dr. at the childrnen's clinic. She said he had the mumps. Gave us a RX for swellling.

We picked up Micah we went home. I slept with Matthew that night.

Monday Aug. 5. He wanted to watch tv and we got him down stairs on the couch. He needed to keep a bowl handy because he had the throwups. We talked to several Brazilian friends who told us that was normal. How could he have the mu,mps" He had been vacinated. Germ strains are different I was told by the dr.

Monday night, Matthew developed a head ache. Bad one. I drove him around in the car, like I did when he was a baby and had an ear infection and couldn't sleep. It calmed him then, didn't calm him this time. "You are my Mom. You are suspose to make me better, he told me.

I told him, I wish I could but I didn't know what else to do. But that when it hurt so bad that he couldn't stand it, he could ask Jesus to take away the pain and He would. I slept with him again.

Tues. Aug.6 Matthew began sleeping and dreaming. He took water and 7-up and was able to keep it down. Monty slept with him that night.

4 am Wed. Aug. 7 I awake to hear Monty and Matthew in the bathroom. He can't pea. It hurts. We get him down stairs by the phone. We first thought we had over medicated him. In Brazil, it is the consumers responsabilty to dilute the RX to the correct dosage and strength.
On the way down the stairs, he lost his eyesight, he yelled it was dark, get me out of here. I told him, Dad had him rolled up in a blanket like a burrito and it was ok. Then he began counting in English and Portuguese. He tried to stand and couldn't. We called our teammates to aks them them to come get Micah. We left Micah asleep in the house, and rushed 35 miles down the coast to the children's clinic again.

Matthew was in the back seat, I crawled in with him. Monty drove furriously. I remember a bus pulled out in front of us and I screamed.

Matthew kept reaching out his hand into the air. I would take his hand and tell I was there and I was holding his hand and he would tell me, no,not you. This happened several times. Finally, in desperation I said, "What do you want Matthew? I will get it for you."

His last words as he slipped into coma was "I am trying to reach Jesus' hand." With those words, his little hand seemed to close around something in the air and he slipped into coma.

When we got to the clinic, Matthew was out and completely limp. It was difffernt dr. this time. She sent Monty across the street to the hospital to beg entrance to the ER while she had the office staff locate a dr. who would take Matthew as his patient. We couldn't get him to the hospital until we had a dr. but the hospital couldn't refuse entrance to a parent who was at the door. Strange, differnt culture.

We lost Matthew in the clinic but they brought him back. A dr. was found. Monty, the dr. and two nurses carried my baby in a sheet with another nurse holding the oxygen bottle across the street, into the hospital, through the lobby, up the elevator to the ER.

Monty and I sat huddled in the hall waiting for news. Another spinal tap was ordered. Monty and I took the spinal tap to the lab three blocks from the hosptial. It came back positive for pnemicocal bacterial menigitis. We were told it had a "window" when it could be present in the body but show NEG. That was what happened on Sunday. Tuesday, when we thought Matthew was sleeping, it was the early stages of coma. We didn't know. We didn't know. We were doing what we had been told.

For 54 hours we took turns sitting with our love, our little love. We sang, talked, read to him, kissed him. His feet were so pretty and smooth. We watched for the slightest smallest movement. We were told "coma mas por fundo" very deep coma. Thursday night, when I was with him, I told him, "I know I told you that when it hurt so bad that you couldn't stand it anymore to tell Jesus and He would make it better. I know you reached your hand out to Jesus and Jesus took your hand. IF you want to stay with Jesus, you can. It will be ok with me. I love you and I will see you soon." Under protest, I accepted friends' advice and went to the waiting room where Monty and I kinda of slept curled up together on the tile floor covered with the blanket we had brought Matthew to the hospital in.

Friday Aug. 9, 19917:00am We got to go in to see Matthew. His heart rate had been in the 30's but now it was up to 50 and had been all night. We were encouraged. The nurse said, the heart rate needed to be in the 70s. But we were so encouraged. I hugged hima nd told him I was going to call Granny and Granddad and tell them the good news. We found a phone. We got a little breakfast of fruit and juice. 8:10, my heart stopped and I told Monty we had to get to Matthew. When we got there, the drs. were in there with him. The dr. came out and said "Ja foi" He is gone.

And Matthew was young and he loved God and he was not for God took him home.

For a long time I was angry with God because I had trusted Him to take care of us. I had given up my home, family and friends, moved 7000 miles away to learn another language and culture and God didn't take care of me. Then one day, I realized it was Satan who wanted to destroy my faith and he took his best shot at me and I became no more angry with God but angry with Satan. One of these days, I WILL see my son again, and we will sit beside the crystal sea that flows from the throne of God and we will find little black sea urchins with tiny pink mouths, little candy cane shrimp. And we will both walk on the streets of gold with Jesus in the middle holding both of our hands. Satan can not take my HOPE away and I will not allow him to cheat me.

Due to Brazilian laws, Matthew had to be buried within 24 hours. My fil and aunt and uncle were in flight to us when Matthew died. Monty was able to get a waver to wait until the next day for burial. He found a beautiful cemetary. I hated the idea. I didn't want my baby buried in Brazil. Little did I know the Lord was working through people in the State who had connecitons. I will never know who they were but they got it approved that Matthew didn't have to be buried on Sat. th 10th and he was in the funeral home for a week before we could fly him to Tulia Texas. We were able to bury in Happy, Texas the place we lived when he was born.

We had a funeral in Brazil on Aug. 10 and then in Happy on Aug. 24th. August is not one of my favorite months. However, Matthew died one week before our 11th anniversary on the 16th.

[danielle]

My son Christopher was born 6 1/2 weeks early. Still he weighed 6.5 lbs. He came out so bruised and he still had all of his downy hair all over him. He was the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I nursed him so he was the kind of baby who wanted to eat on the hour every hour. So needless to say, Me and Christopher spent a lot of time sleeping in the recliner. I loved it though. I never got sick of it. When Christopher was 2 months old we found out that he had Hydrocephalus due to aqueductal stenosis. He had a VP shunt placed two days after diagnosis. The doctors said that he would be learning disabled and he would have a limp. I never believed the Dr.'s because there was something in his eyes. He was determined to do everything. He started walking at 7 months. Once he started walking, we realized the doctors were so off base. He was into everything. He loved to explore and discover. When we turned the radio on he would dance, It was so funny to watch him. We found out a month after his first birthday that we were going to have another baby. She was born when he was 22 months old. He loved her so much. He would hug on her and hum her lullaby. We decided that we would need a larger house so we sold our home and moved to the one we live in now. Christopher was so happy here. There was a tree swing, and 3 acres of land to have to himself. On his second birthday we got him a john deer power wheels. he loved that thing, he would ride on it for hours on end. We would let him ride in the yard and he would sing and wave, He always had a smile on his face. He had such a personality. He was one of those kids that you forgot he was a kid. He had an old soul. He would steal the show when he walked into a room. He was the sweetest little boy. He loved buzz lightyear. He would go around shooting his imaginary laser at bugs. He would get on the couch and say that he could fly. I would tell him he can't fly and the he would jump off of the couch and point and me and he would say CAN!!! He had such a good heart. After I would read him his story at night before bad we would say our prayers. He would pray for everyone he knew. He even prayed for my parent's dog Sable. He knew when you needed a kiss, he knew when someone was hurting. He would come up to you and hug on you and say, " I'm sorry your sick" and he would go and get a band aide and put it on you and kiss you. I guess thats what I did and it made him feel better so thats what he knew to make people feel better. He loved this song by Maroon 5, called "she will be loved" He would sing that song in his sleep. I don't know why he liked it so much, but he would listen to that song morning, noon and night if he could. He loved to count. He could count to twenty by the time he was 2. He could read 3 letter words by the time he was three. He was so smart. He was hard headed too. He was a very strong willed child. It was funny, because I was at my Witt's end one day and called my pediatrician. He was being so bold. My Dr. said to take a wooden spoon and paddle him with it. Not hard, but just to let him know that he was wrong. It took only one time, and all I had to do was show the spoon and he knew. So when it was time to take a nap, something he disliked at all costs, I would put the spoon beside his bed. I would hear him get up and put it in the closet. He would then get back in bed. I guess he did not want that thing near him. He was 200% boy and I loved it. He was rough and tough but when he was hurt or sick he would be like butter and come running to me. I miss running my hands trough his hair and miss feeling his little shunt bump. He had the most thick hair on a kid I have ever seen. He was very protective over his little sister. He was almost like a sheep herder when it came to her. In April of 2003 we bought a swimming pool. We put a 5 ft. gate around it and it stayed padlocked all the time. He loved to go swimming, We had this little ritual. He would go upstairs and get his swim trunks, floaties and "soup" That is what he called the SPF lotion. I think he thought SPF meant soup. He never had in interest of going in the pool on his own, he always asked. For those who don't know our story, I will tell it. It was Sunday June 26th 2005. The day started great, because Christopher had been sick with a stomach bug and was finally feeling a little better. He was playing outside all day with us and my daughter Samantha. He kept telling us he was hot, and that he wanted to go swimming. We kept on telling him no, (because he still had a touch of diarrhea and did not want an him to have an accident in the pool). I had softball practice at 5:00 so I was getting ready for that. Before I left Christopher hugged on my leg, and told me he loved me, so I picked him up and we cuddled for a while. As I was leaving he told me to play good baseball, and I told him to be good for daddy and that I loved him. When softball practice was over, I came home to some strange people in my yard, one was holding my daughter. At first I thought that my husband had a heart attack or something, so I ran to the house. As I was running, I saw Patrick (my husband) holding Christopher. I thought he may have broken his leg, or arm. Then I saw the look on my husbands face, and then saw my son. He was blue, his eyes were still open, and the color had left his eyes. I took our son and restarted the CPR that my husband had been doing for 30 min. before. The ambulance arrived about 15 min. after I did. They took him to the hospital, where they tried everything they could for about 45 min.
Patrick was watching the kids, and let Christopher go outside to play. He was watching him from the window in the kitchen. He went to change Samantha's diaper, and when he came back Christopher was gone. He went out to look for him. The last place he thought to look was the pool because It had a 5 ft. gate around it and it was padlocked. Christopher had only been gone for about 2 or three min. Patrick found him in the pool. He started CPR and was doing it for about 30 min and gave up about a minute before i pulled up. The hospital let us hold him for about 8 hours. It was horrible, having your child go cold and stiff in your arms. I think it was good that we got that chance to say goodbye. My husband believes it is his fault. I know it could have happened to me. We are sticking together though, and working through this. I don't know how we could have gotten through this without God. My daughter who is turning 2 this month has been a blessing to us too. She still goes through the house calling his name and talking to him as if he was there. Sometimes I believe that she can see him. I hope she can. Sorry it is so long. This is not even a quarter of what I wanted to say. Thank you for starting this topic. It felt good to be able to relive the good memories that came to mind while posting this message. God Bless.

[melody]

Hi Danielle, thank you for sharing Christopher with us again. He was such an awesome little guy. My prayers continue for you and Patrick and Samantha. God bless and keep you.

[andrea]

That sounds great!


Well Maddie was diagnosed with Tetralogy of Fallot at birth (but we knew about the defects while pregnant) and she spent only 5 days in the hospital. Tetralogy for those who don't know is congenital heart defect (4 defects with this syndrome) She was born on June 23, 2003. 8lbs, 8oz and beautiful!

She was hilarious! She had such a great personality. She loved her brothers but had a special bond with Nate. They would hug eachother everymorning and it just warmed my heart. He was so good to her. She liked to torment Nick because he gets upset easily. He broke his leg in Sept of 2004 and was in a body cast, immobile. She would go take a toy from him and quick run away because he couldn't do anything about it. What a stinker she was. She was our only daughter and my husband and I just adored her!!! She was truly the princess of our family, being the only daughter AND granddaughter.

She had testing done early Oct. 2004, u/s's, heart catherter, etc....to determine when to do surgery and to get good pictures for when they did do surgery. Monday, Oct 25 I got the call from her cardiologist and they felt she was okay to go until next spring (2005) and they wanted her to get bigger, she was very petite. 3 days later she died in her sleep. Don't know exactly why. Her heart was VERY enlarged, but they don't know exactly what happened. She was PERFECT that day before - the pic as my avatar is a picture I took of her probably 12 hours before she died. She was getting sick, fever, congested chest, etc...she was up that night and she threw up (all over me hehe) so I don't know if that had something to do with it, or if she was crying and I never heard her. Her cardiologist told me she couldn't have cried herself to death, but its my big fear, that it was my fault. Logically it doestn' make sense. She NEVER over-exurted herself. She had colic when she was newborn and would scream for hours, and never had a blue spell. Plus when I found her, she seemed peaceful, with her eyes closed, so she must have been asleep when she died. But I just worry that since she was in her own room, not with us (her crib was in our room until about a month before her death) and somehow it was my fault. :-( She also had a heart cath done 3 weeks before her death, I know sometimes that can trigger something, or even cause an irregular heart beat. I just don't know what exactly what happened.

Anyways, I just miss her so much. she died on October 28, 2004. I still can't believe it, I never even thought of having to live without her. It's such a nightmare.

I have a hard time describing her, because she just seems beyong words to me. I feel like when I try to describe her to someone, it just doesn't do her justice. She was amazing! Especially for the serious heart condition she had, she did so well! She looked so healthy and perfect.

[andrea]

Melody, I'm just crying reading your story. :-(

I know this is off topic but I am homeschooling my 2 sons now. :-)

[anthonysmommy]

We have one son Robert IV who was born April 7th, 2000 after 3 years of trying to get pregnant, surprise. Lots of ups and downs, taking Clomid, laproscopy and birth control and then something kicked in. At the same time I found out I was pregnant I also found out I had a goiter, or enlarged thyroid. It was monitored during the whole pregnancy and I had 3 biopsies to rule out cancer. We had a healthy 8lbs 10 oz baby boy, no problems. So we waited until I was done nursing, still monitoring the thyroid for months but for some reason it continued to grow. I ended up having it removed in the summer of 2002. Then we started to try again for another baby, and again had difficulties, nothing seemed to work. At this time my husband had left a career in mortgage to do what he had always wanted to do, be a preacher and we moved to Tennessee. We stayed there almost a year before deciding to move back home to Missouri. Unfortunately he was unable to optain a job in the ministry so he went back to the mortgage field and we stayed with his parents for awhile. Well low and behold I got sick the night before we moved and didn't feel well for a few weeks after we moved.....it turns out we were pregnant again, surprise after two years of trying. We only stayed with his parents for a few months before we rented a house and got settled in. So everything went well during the pregnancy no problems detected at any of the visits. We got to the very end though and knew I was quite huge, didn't help I was overweight to begin with and by that time I was having frequent pubic bone pain. We had gone in for our last appt with the doctor when she suggested I come back the next day for a sonogram to determine the size of the baby. So we came back the next day to learn that he was 9lbs 6oz and had a large chest area so the dr. suggested a c-section so he would not risk getting stuck coming out the natural way. He moved alot during the sonogram too, he was up, he was down, he was sideways. So he wasn't in position anyways. I remember hearing the dr say that was the most amniotic fliud she had ever seen during the surgery....so he had plenty of room to play. (Maybe I drank too much water ) So the next day we had the surgery and on March 9, 2005 our son Anthony was born into this world. My husband only took one picture of him because he figured we'd have more time later....grrrrr. I didn't get to hold him since I was being worked on but my husband held him next to me, he was a big boy, not far off the mark 9lbs 7oz, I guess he gained an ounce since the sonogram . The nurse asked my husband if he would walk Anthony down to the nursery. What I didn't find out til later was she heard him grunting to breathe and didn't want to alarm us. Once I got back to my room of course I wanted to see my baby and so did my mom and by that time my husband was in the room too. He said they were just checking him over in the nursery because he had some fluid in his lungs since he was not pushed out the natural way. Well we finally found out he had a heart condition but they weren't sure what was wrong since they didn't have the special machines to do the test there. None of this showed up on the sonogram the day before, all we knew was that he had a four chamber heart. They wanted to transport Anthony to the children's hospital immediately to run the tests. Within five hours of his birth I finally got to see my boy, in a transporter incubator hooked up to a venilator machine. My husband and his sister went to the children's hospital while I was stayed in my room with my mom. We finally got word on what his heart condition was....he had an enlarged left side that had muscle tissue built up on both sides so the blood flow could not pass through, he also had a hole between the ventricles (VSD). We were given the option of do nothing and let him die which was not an option for us or prepare for a three stage surgery then, 6 months and at 2 years to reroute the heart. He had surgery at 9 days old and we were very grateful he came through the surgery. The surgeon told us he did remarkably well and barring any other complications he would be home within 2-3 weeks. So we spent the rest of the day with him before we went home to be with our other son. The phone rang the next morning at 6am with the beginning of the complications. My husband rushed down to the hospital to see our son purple, discolored, swollen and not looking good at all. His kidneys had not kicked back in after surgery so they had to put him on dialysis immediately. He had had a rough night and they waited til the last minute to call us. In the weeks following we felt like Anthony was developing every complication that could occur, blood clot when they took out the central line, open chest after surgery for 3 weeks, the dialysis for a month, a condition that prevented him from taking breastmilk, dependence on the venilator, congestive heart failure and many others I am having a hard time remembering at this moment. We always had hope that things would get better we were just anxious to get him home. He seemed to get much better too, he was off dialysis, many of the pain meds, and the blood clot was disappaiting. The problem was we couldn't get him off the ventilator. They attempted four times, each time getting longer and longer....4 hrs, 12hrs, 24hrs and 48 hrs before going back on the ventilator. We decided it would be best to let him rest for a few weeks before attempting again. Unfortunately that would never happen. Not long after the last attempt he started to swell up again and they couldn't figure out what was the problem. His kidneys had shut down again and he went back on dialysis. We figured well he beat the dialysis once, he could do it again. The doctors wanted to do a heart cath because they wanted to check the functions of his heart. We were overjoyed when he came out of the heart cath, there were risks he could die. The joy was quickly taken from us when the doctor came in to tell us the results of the cath. Our son Anthony had a blood clot in his heart, his heart was pumping but not releasing, it was getting hard and stiff, and a hole that was put between the atrium during the first surgery had closed. They had attempted to put another hole there but had failed, it closed right up. There was nothing more they could do for him but keep him alive on the machines. It broke our hearts, I even asked the doctor what he would do if it were his child.....he said there was nothing he could do. As soon as he left the room I just started wailing on the table there, my husbands mother had to leave because she was just in shock. In the end we made the decision to have all of our family come up that day and spend as much time as they needed to say goodbye to Anthony. At the end of the day after our family went home we had 15 members of our church family in the waiting room to be with us. My husband and I took turns taking back small groups of three or four at a time to see Anthony. When we decided it was time we took two of our elders back with us and I held Anthony for awhile which I could have done all night but that would have gotten us nowhere. I told them it was time, they removed the machines, and I held him while he passed at 3:27am on 5/27 and held him for a long time afterwards. The experience seems so surreal and unthinkable that our child is gone but it what God has given us. Yes, I was angry at why this had to happen to us, but my husband pointed out...why not us, why are we more special than anyone else. It's what we do with the situations that we are given that make us a better person in life. I could say that I would do anything to have Anthony here with us but why would I want to take him away from heaven. We know we have one son there, guaranteed, so now we have to make sure we ourselves make it there in time as well as our other son and any other children we may have in the future. Anthony's life was for a reason for us to learn how to help others with his story. I was able to donate 1600oz of breastmilk to help other babies. During Anthony's stay at the hospital my husband lost his mortgage job and subsequently returned to the ministry where we have moved to Louisiana to spread the gospel. We have recently been helping physically and spiritually a couple with a premie baby who was in the hospital for almost three months and is home now. I'm sorry to make this such a long story but I wanted to tell you about both my boys and how they came to our lives and made such a difference in our lives.
God Bless,
Michelle

[heidiforever]

Please forgive me for copying and pasting my story here. I get horribly shaky when I re-type it so I saved it once and only re-tell when I am stable enough to do so...

My story is odd in that it did not happen directly to me, though I am the only one who can tell it. It began when I was a girl of 18, completing my first semester of my final year in high school. An awkward time for many seniors, trying to find their place and trying to please the parental figures with the future prospect of college, I was stuck right there with the best of them. My way of “dealing” came down to food and control. It wasn’t, as many assume, about being fat. It was about controlling one aspect of my young life that no one else could. It was about pleasing with appearances and it was about secrecy.
I became involved with my church, relying on the one thing I knew I could, when no one else could understand. It was a night of youth and messages, gathering together around our one common ground. It was that night that my life changed forever.
As the excitement of the young people arose, and the music filled our hearts, we began wandering the sanctuary. It was during an upbeat piece that I first clamped eyes on him. When our eyes first met, I knew he was The One I would marry.
I filled the hunger in my stomach with him, my days and nights and entire physical being revolving around only him. He was 26 when I met him, and perfect. He said he supported my idea of one day becoming a minister. He said I was beautiful. He said it was okay to eat. He said he had never loved another the way he loved me. He respected my wish to wait until I was married to have a physical relationship with him.
Six months later, I was pregnant. I had quit my job and moved in with him several months before. Looking back, I cannot honestly say that he forced me to do those things. It was a passive aggressive approach, in which he would take his anger out on me, first with the guilt trips, later the cold shoulder, until the abuse became verbal, mental, emotional, sexual and physical. He had taken away my family and friends by telling me I was too good for them, and if I loved him, I would make him happy.
I was to start at the local University in the fall, studying religion and art, my biggest passions. By this time, I had gathered enough money for our apartment. He had given me a car for my high school graduation a few months prior, but I was not allowed to drive it. I was to be dropped off and picked up in the same places, daily, much like a child leaving for her first days in elementary school.
He no longer held a job for longer than a few months at a time, and so he began sitting in on my classes. When he could hold a job, he would work nights, and have me sleep in the backseat of his car. Sometimes he would sneak me in and have me sleep on the love seat in the hotel lobby, where he briefly worked. Who knew the apartment I had worked hard for would soon become my prison cell?
By November of that year, I was no longer attending classes regularly, and by December, not at all. I was put on bed rest, due to Pre-eclampsia (a pregnancy related condition). Basically, it was my job to stay hidden and produce his offspring.
You might have asked yourself by now, Why didn’t you just leave? It was easier said than done. I’ve thought that maybe I didn’t want my mother to think she’d been right about him all along. I think what I was most scared of was what he might do to me and my family if I were to leave. He carried a gun with him everywhere he went, and, though he had never pointed it at me out of anger, oftentimes he would make a show of taking it from its hiding place in the waistband of his pants, and placing it on the table. He was just letting me know that ultimately, he was the one who would decide my fate.
I kept telling myself that things would get better when the baby was born. His heart would surely soften. Right?
Jeremiah was born on March 7th, 1999. He seemed to me, an old soul, very quiet. He would just take everything in, hardly letting the world know of his existence. The next several days were a whirlwind of nurses and doctors and visitors. But something wasn’t right. Six days after my son was born, he became ill. There was no explanation; no one seemed to be able to figure out what exactly was wrong with this lethargic little boy. He was a week old when the doctors deemed the real world safe enough for our baby. We had four days with him at home, taking temperatures every four hours, three different ways, trying to feed him, and adjusting to this new life for all three of us. On March 18th, we were to bring our son into the Dr.’s office. He sent us straight to the hospital for x-rays, or something like that that would not have made any difference. For those of you that have dealt with your suffering child, you know how taxing that can be, even on you. The next 12 hours were filled with sticks and needles, bleeding that would not stop, specialists coming in from all over the city, and our families, suddenly congregating around us.
Jeremiah was transferred to Riley Children’s hospital where we chose to take him off life support, rather than letting them continue to resuscitate him repeatedly. He died that night, March 18th, 1999. The worst day of my life. So far.
After a month, my body began healing from the ordeal of having a baby, and from the cesarean section. After three months, I knew I should go back to work. In August, we tied the knot, deciding that after having had a child; it was the right thing to do. I stood up there, knowing that it was not going to be forever. Again, I thought things would change. I thought how can it get any worse?
It was during this aftermath of our son’s death that my husband began to stray. He would come home late, beyond anything reasonable, immediately shower, and steer clear of my physical person every chance he would get. The abuse got worse. He would use me for sex when he couldn’t get it anywhere else, and always, always turn me so I was facing away from him.
Fifteen months after my son’s birth, I was pregnant again. He insisted that I was having an affair, and that this pregnancy was the product of my affair with my father. He said he would know that was true if it were a girl, because he was only capable of producing boys. The bruises came more frequently, and I was getting weak. This time, I was working. I was the breadwinner for our household. I honestly don’t know what he did with his days. Occasionally he would bring home a hundred dollars, maybe two. Not very often.
So much went wrong when I was pregnant the second time. It started with cramping. My abdomen swelled up so that I looked to be in my seventh month when in fact I was only 14 weeks. I have Crohn’s Disease and thought it was just flaring up. I went to the hospital, where they found I had E Coli 0157. He wouldn’t come visit me, insisting I wasn’t sick and didn’t need him. For seven-and-a-half months, I was in and out of hospitals, being treated for active Crohn’s Disease, having gallstones, having my gallbladder removed at 30 weeks gestation, having a blood transfusion, and being put on IV nourishment. I went for two weeks once without eating, not by choice. It was so painful; I had already lost about 35 pounds since the pregnancy began.
During this time, he would not work, insisting on staying by my side for the most part. Our heat was shut off at home. For the first time in my life, I felt lucky to have physical ailments that required me to stay in the hospital.
I tried to leave him during this time, but I was not strong enough. I was scared about my future; scared of what he would do if I left him for good. The bruises got bigger, taking months to fade. I tried to tell his family, and told them to not say anything to him. They listened for about three days. Then he came home and it got worse. He shoved me into doors, he broke all of our phones when I tried to call for help; he was verbally abusive. Again, I thought that things would change when the baby came.
I was in the hospital on February 6th due to early contractions and severe pain they later found out was because of a liver abscess. My doctor had taken me off all IV pain medication, and was intent on sending me home. I asked him if he would keep me one more night, to see how I did taking my medication orally (that was usually an obstacle due to all the vomiting). He agreed, and late that evening, while I was hooked up to the monitors that followed my baby’s heartbeat, I began having severe pain. I could not sit still, I began vomiting uncontrollably, and my baby’s heartbeat had dropped drastically. Several nurses came running in, and in the midst of it all, an emergency cesarean was decided upon, 6 weeks before my due date.
Madeline came into the world that night, giving me the second chance I wanted at being a mommy again. She had a little trouble breathing, but was otherwise healthy and ready to go home after 13 days in the NICU.
When Maddie was 9 months old, I was strong enough to leave for good. Nothing had changed. Marriage counseling did not help. It took so much work getting him to even agree to go with me. I needed someone to see him for who he really was. I needed help!
On November 16th, 2001, I took Madeline and left. I told him I wasn’t trying to keep his daughter from him, but that I needed to find myself again. Only after that, I told him, would I be able to entertain the idea of coming home. I never intended to go back to him. I told my family to make sure I didn’t. They were, are, my backbone.
On December 19th, 2001, I was again hospitalized with Crohn’s Disease pain. He brought Madeline to see me. They arrived to find my dad visiting me. I assume, in his mind, he thought my father and I were involved in some kind of twisted affair, which we were not. He took my daughter and ran. I was so afraid I would never see her again. I decided to file for divorce. In response, he counter-sued, and gained emergency temporary custody. He made several false allegations against me, including suicidal behavior and violent physical abuse toward my daughter. Everyone who knows me knows that I have never loved anything or anyone more than my own children. Everyone who knows me knows I am not capable of that kind of behavior.
We battled the custody issue for a long time. I think that the attorneys involved and the guardian ad lidem were beginning to see through his façade. He quieted down for a few months. Then, September 17th, 2003, he, his girlfriend and my daughter were involved in a car accident involving a hit and run and a drunk driver. His girlfriend was killed, he was seriously injured, and my daughter had a broken leg and required a few stitches. I brought her home with me until he was well enough to keep her again overnight. We seemed to communicate better during this time. I kept my wall up, being on guard for his ridiculous games.
For about three weeks, he stayed with his parents, in their home. Madeline was the one who would be most influenced by this drastic change in her life. I mean, how do you really explain something like that to a two-and-a-half year old?
What happened next will forever remain etched in my mind. It is something I relive, and will continue to relive all the days of my life.
I awoke October 20th, 2003 to a beautiful cloudless day. I did not have Madeline that day, but was feeling under the weather, so I stayed in bed most of the day, trying to rest. My sister called me in the early evening to tell me of a story she had seen on the news. She said a man on the south side of town had murdered his two daughters, one six months, the other, 2 years, before taking his own life. I just knew it wasn’t Madeline. I mean, that was impossible. I had just seen my little girl a few days ago and she was fine. She said to call his mother and make sure. When I tracked her down, I learned she was at the Coroners office.
Not again! Not again, I thought. I dialed my sister’s number and ran to my living room where I saw my dad. “He killed my baby! He killed my baby!” I screamed into the phone and to my dad.
I don’t remember much after that. I was a 23 year old widow, mommy of two with no living children. The past six years or so had been erased from my life. My birthday was five days after she died, but I don’t remember it. For months, my memory was cloudy. I began to put bits and pieces together, learning that he had shot my little girl in the head, learning of the paranoia going on inside his mind.
It’s those final thoughts that he had that I will never know. Maybe I don’t want to. One thing that has been with me this whole time is my faith. Some days, that’s all I have. I speak of my children often, because they are an iatrical part of my life.
I did not know I believed in Evil before I met him. Now, I just want to rid women’s lives of the narcissistic sociopaths preying on girls, just like me.
It’s what I imagine the beginning stages of Alzheimer’s Disease are like, the way one goes through life after having experienced such tragedies, wandering around your mind, trying to hold on to that memory you know is there, yet never being able to fully grasp it. I’m just waiting to hold on.

[melody]

Heidi, I'm glad you did, thank you. God bless you and keep you.

[wuvmyangel93]

Beautiful stories, everyone, Melody yours brought me to tears I never knew the story of your son's life and his devotion to God at such a young age, thanks for sharing

[drea]

i am 39 years old. i have two beautiful daughters here on earth karen who is 23 and emily who is 14 . sam was different from the very start. you see i had just found out the day i was pregnant that my mother [who had shut her self off from society when my father died and i was only 14] was not going to make it and my family had not been telling me because i have always been haunted by my mother and what we never had. i felt a connection with her passing on Feb 02-2005 [my eldest brothers b-day] and me being pregnant with sam. she carried and gave birth to me at the same age as i was then. i always loved the feeling of carrying my children with in me. i think it is the most crucial time . the bonding. the feeling their little body parts through your tummy and to have the man you love listen for even a twitch. i had troy speak to my sam and he knew his voice when he was born. i will never forget how he looked at his father. nor the way troy looked at his son. there are no words to explain the feeling in my heart. so i had gastric bypass surgery the same year and was very apprehensive about being pregnant and almost lost sam at 12 weeks. but when he was born so healthy and perfect it was amazing for me . i created him and i had done so good!!!!!!!!! he was perfect from head to toe and i never felt so in love with anything in my life!!! what a wonderful gift troy and i had . for such a short time. to be that loved every minute of your life. not many people can say they ever had that, i know i have not. sam did every minute from the time he was created he was loved by all who were around him. being in love and having a child is so different from what i had b-4. troy and i are soul mates loving each other and had many ups and downs. having a child together was the most beautiful thing i have ever experienced. it was the best. i never felt so complete b-4 . emily and sam were so cute and we were all so happy, i had to go back to work . sam was almost 6 weeks old and i was used to working 2 jobs . so i was going to go back to work and sam to daycare . just from 8-2 and three days a week and troy would watch him sometimes and em too. we all stood by each other the best we could and there was lots of love. this day i had already been home from work on mon and tues. i was having a hard time leaving the house and had alot of anxiety but had a cold and it was easy not to go to work . besides i had vacation time now and i loved staying home with sam . he was just about 2 months and 1 day old.it was a Wednesday and now i shall forever hate the day. i didnt want to go to work . cried troy was here, he told me to stay home and sam had a wic appt that morning. i could of taken him . work wouldnt mind. but i thought no i will go and be strong. everything will be just fine. troy took sam to wic and to grandmas and to daycare . that was the last day- he would never again go with his mother to daycare and listen to motown on the way in the car and sing. i was at work it was almost 2 pm i got a message written on my desk to call daycare . i called my sam was on the way to the hospital. he had stopped breathing . so did i at that very moment i died also. my friend at work drove me to the hospital and there was my sam in the ER. i had called troy and he was on his way also. we both stood beside our precious baby for 2 days in the icu. sister karen and emily too.any were beside us prating for a miracle . not my sam i wasnt ready. i was so sure we were going to have a great life ahead of us. how could this be happening . not to us. we didnt deserve this. we prayed and prayed had prayer chains all over the us. i just wanted 1 miracle from the lord. please. just this once. i would have done anything. they had done a eeg and sam had no brain activity and was not breathing on his own. i had to make a choice. i sent him to heaven. my precious angel was really going to be just that. we had them take the tubes and machines off from his little body and the last breaths he had was on my chest next to me. that is where he always was and still is to this day.they say it was sids. we were so robbed. it is all a fog . leaving the hospital without our sam going home without our sam. how was i ever going to get over it. god had taken my son. after wanting and waiting for so long. he completed us. no he was gone. oh how i love and miss my little man.god had taken the one gift i had always wanted a son. and to have given troy the man i love so much a son.why did he do this. was it something i had done to deserve it. or was it that sam was to perfect to be here on earth.i tend to believe the latter but self blame is always a issue. why did i not listen to myself that morning. was it a test. i had a gut feeling and i was so strong. every day i was scared to death. because he was so perfect. it was so different . he never cried or fussed was always happy and if i knew how to paste a pic of him i would here is his baby pic from the hosp.http://trinity.minot.org/baby/SamuelB091405.htm thank you for all the support i have gotten so far. that is my story . andrea

[melody]

I just read throught these stories and it amazes me that are so many of us. Just want you to know a special prayer is said for each of you today.

[kimm]

Hello My name is Kimm and the reason that I am writing this is because on Wednesday December 7, 2005 I gave birth to a beautiful little girl that we named Jasmine Michele.
But because I was only 20 weeks along her little lungs had not developed and so she died less then 30 minutes after she was born.
Jasmine was my first child. She was also a big surprise because I had been told that I would never have children.
I had gone to the hospital with what I thought was a kidney infection and the doctors in the emergency room said that they had to give me a pregnancy test before they could send me for a cat scan. When the doctor came back and told me that I was pregnant I probably would have fallen down if I wasn't in bed. I went for an ultrasound to see how far along I was and if the baby was okay. Everyone was shocked when they figured out that I was 5 months along. But the woman who was doing the ultrasound told me that she was really low and that the sac around the baby was very small.
I was transferred to a different hospital where they could better care for me. When I got to the other hospital and after I was all checked out the nurse told me that I was in labor and that the reason that the sac was so small was cuz my water had broke and there was no turning back now. Then she sadly explained to me that even though she was probably be born alive that she was no where near developed enough to survive. So that I should prepare my self for the fact that there would be nothing that they could do for her and that she would die. I was then given medication that would slow down my labor. What ever they gave me knocked me out and when I woke up it was about 8:30 in the morning. I called Kenny, Jasmines father and told him that he needed to get to the hospital cuz our baby was going to be born really soon. Kenny got to the hospital around 9:30 and I was in and out of it for a little while still but at 11:55am our little baby girl Jasmine Michele was born. She was 10 1/2 inches long and she weighed 11 ounces.
After her birth I was bleeding lots and after it was all said and done I had lost at least 1 liter of blood.
We both got to hold our baby and talk to her and then say goodbye to her. I was holding her when her little heart stopped beating. I sat in that hospital bed for a long time rocking her and still talking to her even after she was gone.
The nurse took pictures for us so that we would have a way to look at her when ever we wanted. We have the little outfit that she wore for her very short little life. We decided to have her cremated and so we are having trouble deciding what to do with her ashes but as of right now we are leaning toward having a teddy bear made and having her ashes put inside so that we will be able to bring her home and when ever we want we can give her a big hug.
As a result of all the blood that I lost I had to have a blood transfusion the next day and when I finally got to leave the hospital that was the hardest thing to do cuz I felt like I was abandoning my precious little girl.
I know that she is up in heaven and she is perfect but that makes none of this easier. I think about her everyday and I cry.

[melody]

Hi Kimm and a very sad welcome to you. It always breaks my heart anew when a new mother joins us here. I am so sorry for the loss of your little Jasmine Michele. What a lovely name. I am so grateful you had a nurse who was kind enough to take pictures for you so that you will have those always. I'm glad you have her little outfit, too. May God be gracious to you and Kenny as you begin to heal and the days turn into weeks and months.

Be very kind to yourself. Drink plenty of water and try to eat good food. Rest when your body tells you too. Grief is hard work and you will need these things to help you. Please know we are here for you. Once again, I am so sorry.

[megansmommmy]

Hello,
My name is Alicia, I am 23 years old and have 3 children, Natalie 4, Nuggy 2 and Megan who was born august 9 2005 and earned her wings to heaven on September 17, 2005. I started developing migraines after Megan was born, and was prescribed a narcotic pain medication called 'fioricet with codeine' for the migraines. I did not know until it was too late that this medication should NOT be prescribed to a nursing mother. I awoke on the morining of september 17th to my husband screaming "she's dead, she's dead" holding our limp baby girl. After hours in the hospital where she was pronounced dead after resucitation efforts, and interviews with detectives, they told me they had to take my daughters out of the home until they determined cause of death. They were given back to us 5 days later. I have to cut this short, but I will finish telling the rest when I can. Thank you.