Ups and Downs

Rollercoaster is a word I would use to describe each day that passes.  The endless heart ache does not seem to ease with time and although the days seem better, the feeling of loss never leaves me.  The internal stabbing of the heart whenever I see a child.  The feeling of utter loneliness when I’m in a room full of people talking about their happy healthy kids; I want to scream, and I do on the inside.  The feeling of constantly trying to get a breath in without pain or sadness is what I struggle with each moment, each day. 

Last few days were OK. Today is a struggle; I wonder what tomorrow will bring. 

I pray to God to give me strength.  Some days I don’t have any strength left. 

The hardest thing is that there is nothing, NOTHING that anyone or anything can do to make it better.  Having my child back can make this better. 

Missing you Hope so much!

Hope's gift to me this evening.

~Agata~

Life Celebration Service

Today we attended a Life Celebration Service at a local cemetery in honor of babies who died at or before birth.  The service was very lovely.  It begun with the minister saying a few words, followed by some music; all of which brought tears to my eyes.  Then each family was given a rose to bring up to the shared monument for all the babies who died too soon.  The ceremony concluded by families releasing balloons into the air.  It was a beautiful site to see all the colorful balloons going up in the air.  If only it was this simple, I would release a balloon to Hope every minute, with a new message and a letter of how much I miss her.  

 ~Agata~

Faerie Surprise

Today begun rather on a sad note; I woke up feeling very sad and I was missing Hope.  See I had a bad dream that people from work were giving me little baby outfits saying that this was supposed to be for my baby shower.  I don’t quite know what has gotten into my mind to ever think like that since the thought of a baby shower has never crossed my mind.  In fact I’m all against baby showers.  But it was enough to put me in a sad mood.  As the morning progressed I went grocery shopping and then on my return home I found a package waiting for me with one of the items I ordered on ebay.  I opened the box and there it was a beautiful figurine of a little faerie girl.  I have been gathering things to put beside the picture of Hope and this was a great addition.  Then as I brought it over to Hope’s little corner of my room I turned the statue over and to my surprise I found the following words engraved at the bottom: “Think of all the beauty still left around you and be happy” Anne Frank.  I feel this was a God sent message.  A smile returned to my face.  Sometimes I think when God tries to comfort us and make us see the beauty in this world; we’re too occupied with our own emotions and grief.  So he sends us messages through people or things, and this was my message today.  It was perfect timing and I thank God for that.  

 ~Agata~

Right where I am 2012: June 10th 2012

Right where I am 2012:  June 10^th 2012

This is right where I am.  It’s been exactly three months, since I lost my precious child; almost as long as she existed.  It’s amazing how strong love can grow for a child who was only here for such a short time.  For me, the love started the second I knew of her existence.  There was no turning back.  This child was mine and she will always be with me; in my heart.  She took a piece of my heart but I’ve gained the best gift of all, I gained the gift of eternal Love.  Love I never imagined I can have.  I am so sad I cannot hold her in this world, but I know I will hold her one day in heaven.  It has been and still is a very difficult journey and although there are some days that contain a sparkling light of hope, there are also those days that drown me under and I am numb again.  Every day is a routine I perfectly choreographed to get me through to the next day.  This is a glimpse into a typical day of my existence without my child.  

I wake up in the morning; I no longer think that everything that happened was just a dream.  I know it wasn’t and there is no way I could convince myself otherwise.  I had to accept it.  I think of Hope.  My precious child… tears stream down my face.  I thank God for bringing her to my life for even such a short time.  I wish her a good morning and I go on.  

On my way to work I put on my headphones as I walk to the bus.  I find healing in music and I whenever I hear different songs, they remind me of a certain stage in my life.  Today and for a very long time now I have been playing over and over the same three songs.  First of them being Adele “Make You Feel My Love” with the words “I’d go to the ends of the Earth for you, to make me feel my love”, second is Florence + the Machine “Never Let Me Go” with the lyrics “Though the pressure's hard to take, It's the only way I can escape, It seems a heavy choice to make, Now I am under… Never let me go” and lastly Lindell Cooley “I need You More” with the words “I need you more, More than the air I breathe More than the song I sing More than the next heartbeat More than anything” Typically this song is stuck in my head all day long and no matter what I’m doing I sing it over and over in my mind.  This is all you’ll hear me listening to these days.  I close my eyes and I go on.

I get to work and a sweet picture of a butterfly drawn in the sand with Hope’s name is awaits me at my desk.  Whenever I feel sad, tired, or too busy with everyday hassle, a sight of the picture calms me down.  It’s a reminder that nothing else in this word matters or is as important as my family. 

The morning goes by and lunch time arrives.  I eat quickly in order to get to a church to pray my daily rosary.  It’s the only half hour in my day where I can completely calm down and lay out all my worries, anxieties, and fears with often tears streaming down my face.  I pray for everybody who has ever lost a child, and who’s struggling with infertility, and I pray that God will hear all our hearts desires and grant us whatever we long for in this world.

The afternoon goes by quickly and I’m back on the bus with my three favorite songs replaying like a broken record player.

I get home and open up a book to read.  I recently read “Heaven is for Real” by Todd Burpo, and “Growing up in Heaven” by James Van Praagh.  These books give a glimpse of what it might be like to be in heaven, and what our children do while they’re there.  From what I read so far, I find great joy in knowing that my child is in a better place.  A place with no sin, no struggles, she’s free to do whatever she wants.  And most importantly she’s with Jesus.  What a wonderful though that is.  I picture her playing with the other children who left this world too early.  After I lost my child, I have read many books to help me get through the grief and just recently I noticed that my collection of “grief” books has surpassed that of my “pregnancy” books.  It’s a sad thought… all of the books are lined up on one shelve; on one side are all my pregnancy books and on other side are my grief books.  No parent should ever have a collection of Child Loss books.   How could this world be so cruel?

I try not to think of all the pregnant women I seem to see everywhere, especially the ones that smoke on their lunch break with their obvious 7 month bellies.  It makes me so very angry.  I would have been almost 7 months by now.

I go outside to water the outdoor plants.  The nice weather is a nice change from the cold wintery days I remember back when I was pregnant.  I pick out the nicest flowers and take them home with me to put them beside the only picture I have of Hope.  Mommy always brings fresh flowers for her precious child.  It’s the only thing I could really do for her.  Today I brought her flowers of a plant called “bleeding heart” My heart bleeds for my child at this moment. 

Evening approaches and I prepare candles to burn beside my child’s picture.  The vision of the light brings me a calm feeling and a vision my child being surrounded by everlasting light.  I stand by the photo and say a few words to her…tears stream down my face. 

So this is me.  Three months after my loss and I’m still in a survival mode.  Every day is a struggle and although some days are better than others, I still have more bad days than good ones.  I don’t know how long this will last, or how much more I can handle, and no matter what is happening in my day, every day begins and ends the same way and I simply go on.

And this is what is it to be me, right where I am on this June 10^th 2012. 

My hopes for the upcoming year are to have brighter days, more happy moments, and more hopeful and joyful thoughts.  I am completely different today than I was 7 months ago.  I’m less outgoing, more shy and more reserved.  I take more time to enjoy the small moment, because that is all that matters in this life.  I don’t take things seriously and I don’t look at the world the same way.  I lost a child.  My memories are all I have of her, and she’s got a piece of my heart which will always long for her.  Until we meet again, Oh what a wonderful day that will be.  

~Agata~

The Shrine of the Holy Innocents

A few days after I lost Hope, I asked for her name to be signed into the Book of Life at the church of the Holy Innocents in New York, NY.  The shrine is dedicated in memory of the children who have died unborn.

“At The Church of The Holy Innocents, we invite you to name your child(ren) and to have the opportunity to have your baby's name inscribed in our "BOOK OF LIFE". Here, a candle is always lit in their memory. All day long people stop to pray. On the first Monday of every month, our 12:15pm Mass is celebrated in honor of these children and for the comfort of their families. We pray that you will find peace in knowing that your child(ren) will be remembered at the Shrine and honored by all who pray here. “http://innocents.com/shrine.asp

A few days later I received a certificate with Hope’s name on it.  What a beautiful thing that they do.  Seeing her name on that piece of paper is just another physical reminder I have that shows she was here with us.  

Hope Kozlowski

~Agata~

Mother's Love

I had a sweet surprise from my Mom today.  While talking on the phone with her she told me she got a statute of an Angel representing my daughter Hope and she placed it amongst picture frames of all her living grandchildren.  It was such a bittersweet moment for me as tears rolled down my face.  I’m so happy that my child is remembered, it means so much!

~Agata~

Losing Hope - My Story.

Nothing in this world can prepare a parent to hear that their child is no longer alive.   Nothing will ever be the same after that.  You change, everyone around you changes, and you’re left with pieces of your life that no longer fit or make sense.  Time moves slowly, and the pain gets too hard to handle at times.  We don’t know why God chose to take our child, and we will never know the answer; we can only hope and pray that God has a plan for us and that he will grant us our soul’s deepest desires.  

There are some memories I want to forget and others are engraved in my head, replaying in my mind like a TV show re-runs.  I do clearly remember the day I found out I was pregnant.  It was New Years Eve 2011, and I just returned home from being in Toronto for Christmas.  I took the test and could not believe the result.  My husband was home at the time as well and I shared the news with him.  He smiled his shy smile and looked at me with an innocent look.  We hugged, hugged some more; we were extremely excited.    

A week after I found out I was pregnant I begun spotting and went to the clinic right away to find out what was happening.  I was immediately sent to have an ultrasound.  My heart tore when the technician could not locate the sac or the heartbeat…. I felt devastated and cried in the ultrasound room.  I was told that a radiologist needed to read the results and was sent back to see my doctor.  The wait was excruciating, I remember being so worried and crying all evening.  In those short 6 days I learned to love this little person growing inside me more than anything.  I was heartbroken.  When we didn’t hear back from the doctor we begun worrying and called the office. He advised us to go to the emergency room since the results of the ultrasound were not going to come in till the morning and he wanted to make sure I wasn’t having an ectopic pregnancy.  We rushed to the hospital and spend nearly all night there and found out very little.  They told us to come back the following day to have another ultrasound.  The next day I had the ultrasound done in the hospital and we waited again for the results.  When the doctor pulled us in to the exam room to tell us the results, my heart was beating very hard; ready to jump out of my chest.  Then to our delight, the doctor said that they located the sac, that the baby is inside, and they think that everything is fine.  The reason they couldn’t find a heartbeat was because I had my dates all wrong and I wasn’t as far along as I thought.  I remember hearing the news and feeling the heavy pain leaving my chest and falling to the ground.  I was happy again and full of joy, that our little baby was fine and I had nothing to worry about.  They never gave me a reason why I was spotting, but apparently it’s quite normal in early pregnancy.  

During my follow up ultrasound a few weeks after, I was able to see the baby, and see the heartbeat; 152 beats per minute, a strong and healthy heart.  That day I was given a picture of my little child which I treasure so much; it’s one of my only physical reminders that she was here with us.  For the next five weeks things progressed well, I felt great; I had no morning sickness and other than sleeping all the time things were moving along!  Then on March 9th at nearly 14 weeks I started spotting again.  I went to the doctor the following day and she could not locate the heartbeat.  I remember lying there on the cold bed and the time moved in a slow motion.  The doctor’s efforts to find the heartbeat seemed like hours and the wait seemed agonizing and I prayed “God, please make me hear the heartbeat”.  The tears streamed down my face.  I knew that things weren’t right, even though my husband kept on assuring me that things will be alright.  I wanted to believe him.  While my husband had to go back to work I waited for my ultrasound later in the day.  I remember being in that ultrasound room all alone and completely scared.  Then I heard the devastating news…”we can only see the tissues, there is no baby anymore”… I went into shock… I took in the message, asked a few questions and completely broke down in the office.  I was so mad and angry and so sad that I lost my precious child.   My world simply ended and I was left with a hole in my heart that no one else can fill except my child.    

Words can’t explain the pain a mother feels when she hears her child has died.  I wanted to crawl out of my own body and not be me.  There was nothing I could do to save my child; it was too late, it was over.

Nothing prepares a grieving mother for the long lifetime journey that lies ahead of her.  The physical pain of losing a child is so incredible.  I never knew that the pain of heartbreak can be excruciating emotionally but as well as physically.  Your heart physically hurts!  I never knew so much sadness and emptiness.  I will never be the same and yet life continues the same way as it used to before my child has died.  As the days now turn in into weeks and months, I’m trying to come to grip with everything… losing a child, getting over the hurt, the anger and all the hopes and dreams I had for her.   I always thought she was a girl, so we named her Hope.  Hope to give us encouragement for the future, hope for better days to come, and hope that God has an amazing plan for us.  

I’m always reminiscing the day I had my follow up ultrasound and got to see my child’s heartbeat.  It was truly the happiest moment in my life.  I kept the picture in a frame from that date on in late January not knowing that I’ll never see her again.  I’m finding comfort in looking at the picture and knowing that our baby existed, no matter how small, her little feet made a huge imprint on our lives.  I’m also comforted by the fact that our baby will feel no pain or struggles of this world and is surrounded by something much greater we can’t even imagine.  Even though we won’t get to hold her in this world, we know we will hold her in heaven.  

I often look to the sky and speak her name.  Every day I wish her good morning, and a good night.  She’s always with me whenever I go.  I miss her beyond words.     

~Agata~