I’m sitting here, numb. Since finding out that Nolan was no longer breathing I’ve gone through cycles of numbness, tears and deep deep pain, and then times where my kids can make me laugh and I feel like the world might be alright.
The times that I do well seem to be when my kids are awake and home from school. The times that I seem to do the worst are first thing in the morning and once the kids go to bed. I hate being left alone with my feelings. I hate feeling.
I’m famous for blocking out my pain. It’s easy and what I find most convenient. But with this, I’m not allowing myself to. Because I know that the longer I block it out, the longer and more painful it will become.
Some days I feel like I shouldn’t be as sad as I am because I was only 17 weeks ( on my watch ) and no one else seems to care. Everyone else seems to be moving on with their lives and then there is me. Stuck in a world of pain. Unable to think past tomorrow and even dress myself.
I just sit on the couch and think. Think to when I found out, think to the days and hours before I had our precious baby boy. Think to the moment I had him.
Wishing I had carried him just a little bit longer. Wishing I had held him a few more minutes.
But we can’t go back in time.
I spend hours each day thinking that maybe I had too hot of baths, or I shouldn’t of moved or stressed myself and that the deep anxiety caused him to pass. I scrutinize every.single.thing I did.
When I look down, I still see my pregnant tummy and for a bit, the world seems okay. Then I realize that my pregnant tummy no longer is the home of a baby boy. It’s only a empty womb of a mother in deep pain.
I sometimes feel that I should just get pregnant again so I can cover up this deep pain. But it wont ever work like that. Nolan will never come back. He will never be replace. I will never be okay with him dying.
As I sit here, I’m in my numb state. I don’t think I could write these words in one of my states where I actually feel and hurt. I become paralyzed and I just want to roll up into a ball and wish myself back to before. Before when he was still wrapped up inside me.
After I laboured and had our son, I had a shot of Morphine ( which I am so so thankful for ). I don’t really feel like it numbed the pain or contractions, but it numbed my brain. It allowed our time saying goodbye to him so peaceful. Gentle quiet tears streamed down my face as I looked at him, and touched his hands, tummy and face. I occasionally looked up at Glen, who also had quiet tears streaming down his face and kept asking what we should name him. We had no boy names picked out, only girl names.
He kept saying “I don’t know…” between muffled tears.
He kept holding my hand and rubbing my back. I shook in peace. It’s one of the hardest things I have ever had to go through in our life. It’s something that has and will continue to strengthen our marriage.
I finally looked up at Glen and God put a name into my head. Our little boy, the size of my hand with a chubby little belly looked like a “Nolan Daniel Morris”. Thank God for putting that name on my heart, or our little boy would still be nameless.
We just stared at him for 30 minutes. The nurses wanted us to keep him attached to his placenta for testing when we sent him away, so we couldn’t put him on our chests. I so badly wish we would of just cut the cord and snuggled him, but I can’t go back in time.
The nurses were the most amazing. My doctors were non existent, but these nurses held my hand, rubbed my back, cried with me, and took care of me. I could barely get out of bed and they literally carried me to the bathroom and cleaned my up, brushed away my tears and held me up. I will never forget the kindness of our nurses. I will someday find a way to thank them.
This is a photo of our son, Nolan Daniel. The photos are in black & white so you cannot see details like his eyes and such.. but this shows his size and his little hands and toes.
Now, the most hardest times seem to come when I’m alone and all the firsts. My very first bath having Nolan outside of my was the worst. I just cried myself to sleep that night. But time will heal.
I’m doing my best to let myself feel and let myself hurt. But I’m not a sad person, and it’s so hard for me to let myself feel. But time will heal and Gods peace will cover us daily.
Continue to pray for our little family. Our hearts still hurt. It isn’t a quick fix and it isn’t going to go away after a day or two.
Sorry if my grammar, spelling and thoughts are very “off”. Thank you for listening.