Wednesday, 11 December 2013

God.

I sometimes ask myself how can I carry on with so much heartache. Today is one of those days, the pain is sometimes so unbearable, the stabbing pain into my soul leaves my heart feeling deflated. 
What have I done to deserve so much pain, is this some kind of cruel punishment from some higher being?
Is there a lesson to be learnt from all this? Well if it is, it sure has done a good job at shattering my spirit and faith that I do not know how to regain it. 

God. Your cruel. I do not want to cast my troubles to you. I do not want to pray, I do not want to hear about you, read about you or trust you.

Where were you when I prayed with all my heart and soul that day, you know that day in the hospital when my son was dying.

People say you know everything, people say you are good. I believed it too, until you took him away from us.

I was willing to trust you again, not that long ago, did you hear me pray to you to let me see my rainbow, you didn't. You took her away too.

How can you put me in this position, a position of wanting so desperately the one thing I want more then anything, another child to nurture and love, the one selfless and most human natural gift I could ever have, you have taken away all my hopes and dreams.

Please don't give me any more lessons. I cant go through all this pain again.






Sunday, 8 December 2013

Early miscarriage versus infant loss

I personally find that early pregnancy loss is a taboo subject, its almost like society unconscionably whispers into my head "It wasn't really a baby so why even bring it up, "You were only pregnant for 8 weeks and a couple of days, it shouldn't really be acknowledged" those are the whispers I hear. But when I have already gone through the most horrible and unimaginable pain, I hate, just hate that I have to go through this all over again, and I can't help but to want to yell it out.

I was recently 8 weeks and 3 days pregnant. It was technically my 4th pregnancy. And no it wasn't an embryo as the docter described to me in the emergency department, it was my baby, a wish in the making and a future with a bucket load of hope and dreams. I couldn't help but naively think into the future once again and even though I had that little voice in my head, that voice that questioned the what if's, even though it was there I didn't want to listen to it because its not what I wanted to hear therefore I focused on the other voice, the voice that told me that "everything will be OK this time" the voice that excitedly told me that "its going to be a winter baby, due on July the 17th!"  The voice that told me "This Christmas might actually be tolerable this year" I listened to that voice, the voice full of hope, surely this voice was true this time, surely life will not let us loose again. My midwife asked me if I was thinking ahead into a c-section or natural delivery.. This was real. It WILL be OK. I was going to have my rainbow baby.

But It wasn't OK and life did let us down again, not once, twice but three times.

Having had to go through both extreme ends of baby loss, two miscarriages and one neonatal loss. I've experienced both the high and lows like a continuous cycle. I've gone though the highs of finally being pregnant, I've gone through the lows of loosing early, through the highs of once again believing I'll have a baby in my arms, the highs of giving birth, and spiraling down to the lows of having to bury my baby. Once again all my hopes are crushed and thrown into a pit full of pain and grief. In all my 3 recent pregnancies I have had the same hope, love and dreams. In all my 3 pregnancies I have visualized the day I see my baby. I had due dates, midwife appointments and scans.

This miscarriage has been hard. On that Monday morning I was relieved to be told everything was normal. It didn't last long.

I've lost what could have been my baby.
I've lost my perfect baby boy.
I've lost what should have been my rainbow baby.

This is not just a miscarriage its the loss of a future, hopes and dreams all over again.

I've been thinking a lot about my losses through these gloomy and quieter days.  I've been thinking about the possibility of my bean living on,  I don't know if it's healthy or strange but I believe that every living thing with a heartbeat has a soul, her heartbeat lived in me for a short time but her spirit will join her brother in heaven.









Friday, 6 December 2013

Hanging on to hope

I wrote this post minutes before I lost my little glimpse of a rainbow, I saved it as a draft. I was going to delete in and write a completely new one, but I've decided to publish because it was already written.

This is my little bean of hope, 8 weeks and 3 days.

I've been bleeding for 8 days and I'm scared, "scared" is an understatement. 
I'm absolutely terrified.

We went to our 1st scan on Monday and everything looks nice and healthy, little beans heart was healthy and strong.

I was so relieved...

But a day later I started to bleed a lot, I was sure I was loosing my rainbow baby.

I've had a hormone test and the levels are low, its not looking good.

I am expecting the worse, I really didn't think this could happen to me again.

 I truly didn't think it could.

I'm hanging on to my last drop of hope.

I'm waiting for results, and a scan, its a waiting game.

I've played this game before, and I really don't want to play it again.

Esperanza (meaning hope in spanish) 5.12.2013



Tuesday, 29 October 2013

A dark day in spring

Sometimes I don't see any point in anything. I don't see any point in writing, no point in "getting on with life." No point in reaching out, no point in compassion. No point in expressing myself, no point in seeing the beauty around me. Sometimes it all just hurts too much, sometimes I just want to crawl up in bed and just think about my self. Selfish? Perhaps...

Its a warm sunny day yet it feels like a dark day in spring.

It feels like it only happened yesterday but its been over 6 months.

I cant see tomorrow.

I cant see what the future holds for me anymore.
I thought I had it all, now I don't.

Sometimes the people who I think know me best, don't know me at all anymore.

I know all these emotions are just another wave drowning me with the ugliness of grief.
I miss my boy.
I miss my son.
I miss Lukas and that's the one phrase that brings me to tears every time.
I miss him.

I just miss him.











Wednesday, 16 October 2013

Shine Bright



I've been a bit quiet around my blog lately but its a good thing. There's nothing like turning my experiences into raw and emotional expressions through writing but I have been slightly occupied into taking a different turn into an expression through crafts. I have started a new project called Shine Bright Mason Jars. As some of you may know I started making these mason jars for candles a couple of months back now as a hobby. I started decorating them for the house but I then made one for Lukas and it came to me that I could offer these for bereaved parents just like me. I started with a Facebook page and uploaded some photos and people are interested! Since starting the page 2 weeks ago I've had 6 orders and I have sent 2 already. I love creating with a purpose. I find peace in making these for mums in memory of their angel baby's, its special, healing, its compassion. Its something I enjoy doing and I expect nothing in return apart from pure joy in giving and knowing that I may bring a smile to someones face.
I'm currently offering these for free in New Zealand, however I'll be more than happy to arrange postage internationally if anyone is interested. Click on the picture below for the link to my Shine Bright Facebook page.
Shine Bright Mason Jars Facebook Page











Wednesday, 25 September 2013

Numbers.

Numbers.

39.5 weeks - the time Lukas spent in my belly
13.4.2013 - the day Lukas was born
1:05 - the time he was born
14.4.2013 - the day he died
3:00 am - the time he died
26 hours - the time he was alive
15.4.2013 - the night he came home
8:00 pm - the time he came home
16.4.2013 - the day he spent at home
17.4.2013 - the day we buried him
The grief and longing of having him back in my arms - Forever

"I was just guessing at numbers and figures.Pulling your puzzles apart.Questions of science, science and progress.Don't speak as loud as my heart." - Coldplay, The Scientist




Lukas's Clock in his room set at 1:05

Wednesday, 18 September 2013

Healing Steps Series: "Creativity"



Creativity is something that I have always loved but also something that I have never been that great at. I lack my mums natural art & craft skills, ideas and patience. But I have recently discovered that creativity is in all of us. Creativity is in me. Its something that I have discovered through this difficult time and I'm really enjoying it. I'm currently into decorating mason jars for candles. I love getting to use different textures and finding new ways to make them look pretty. Most of the resources I've used are just things I have hunted down around the house. Things that by a glance would have no 2nd purpose; old books, leftover gift ribbon and bags, my daughters stock of magical glitter and a collection of jars that I have somehow managed to collect over a couple of months. I've decorated a few jars already and I light them up at night, it ignites up a relaxed and peaceful atmosphere, I love candles and the way the flame dances. My partner jokes that my new obsession is going to burn the house down but I can reassure you I am not a arsonist!
These mason jar candles are not masterpieces but I do find making them very therapeutic, healing, and peaceful. For a moment of the day I can concentrate on what I'm creating and I have to admit there is a sense of pride and satisfaction at the end. Pinterest is great for inspiration, I love scrolling down and re-pinning ideas for future use. I have a bucket list of creativity! I've also started on my garden but its not looking too pretty at the moment!
Taking photos, blogging, poetry and quotes are all parts of creativity too. I guess I've always had a flare of creativity but its different now, its more alive and soulful . Its something that Lukas has awoken in me. Through him I have found my creativity and being creative is good for the soul.




Friday, 13 September 2013

A Letter to Lukas



Dear Lukas,

Five months ago you were born on the early hour of a Saturday morning. I will never forget that day because I have permanently imprinted it in my heart, mind and soul. The next morning you earned your angel wings, and I will never forget that day as well. I have never felt so much sadness filled with so much love at the same time. When I held you in my arms as you took your last breath it felt like the world had collapsed around me but yet it was such a peaceful and gentle moment. I like to think that the tears I cried at that moment blessed you with my eternal love for you. I wish that my love for you could have healed you and saved you.
Five months on and here we are. I still think about you everyday, I still miss you everyday, and I wonder about you all the time. Five months on and my love for you grows by the second. I never knew this kind of love existed. The kind of airy love that floats around spiritually. Its a love that is alive, a love that is yours.

Love Mummy
xxx


Thursday, 12 September 2013

Healing Steps Series


I know that my blog posts are are way for me to express this journey I have unwillingly being forced to take. I write down my raw emotions of sadness, anger, confusion, fear and all the other mixed up feelings that fill up this bucket of grief. I decided to start a blog soon after Lukas had passed because I wanted to share our story, his story and what continues to be our story.
But it came to me last night that I would also like to start writing about my progress into Healing. It will be a way for me to concentrate on something positive. I can not change the tragedy that happened but what I can change is my way of processing everything. I will never be cured entirely since a part of my heart will always be missing but I can try to perhaps stitch it up a little. I know these stitches will probably come loose every now and then but I do hope that with time every stitch will become stronger. Healing steps will be my personal steps into encouraging myself into finding ways to bring a little light back into my life.
I am not too sure how many people read my blog, or who those that read it have also gone through something similar. But I would like to think that these Healing Steps might also give you some ideas into turning grief into something beautiful.
Below is my first entry into Healing Steps.

Healing Steps: "Walking on the Beach"

Papamoa Beach
I am so happy I decided to make the move nearly 3 years ago now from the big smoke of Auckland to the little town of  Papamoa. We have a beautiful beach here and all I have to do is cross the road and I'm in paradise. I have always loved the beach, the salty air,the sound of crashing waves, the sensation of the sand on my feet. Whenever I'm stressed and just need to get out I take my troubles to the beach. I grab my iphone, plug in my earphones and just walk. I stop every now and then to admire the different shades of blues out in the water and up in the sky. I spot for heart shaped clouds and if the suns peers through the clouds perfectly I snap a photo. I write Lukas's name every time I go out to the beach now. Its turned into a ritual. I find a stick, write his name always with a butterfly above the L , I take a moment to remember him before the waves take it to the sea. I come back home feeling refreshed, like all my negative energy has been absorbed. There's something about the sea that brings me peace.



Photo taken at Mission Bay of Rangitoto Island 
















Wednesday, 11 September 2013

The Diagnosis.

I opened the postmortem report on my birthday. We have answers but what I feared was confirmed. We always knew what happened to our baby boy and now we know physically what went wrong, but the cause is unknown, I just cant seem to get my head around that "unknown cause." How can something like this just happen for no reason. "Idiopathic", "spontaneous" , "isolated condition" are terms that have come up while I have researched.  It hurts so much to know that Lukas was perfectly normal, there were no abnormality's, no infection, nothing was wrong with him. He was perfect. 

The Diagnosis
Persistent Pulmonary Hypertension of the Newborn (pphn) is what they call it.
"Its defined as the failure of the normal circulatory transition that occurs after birth" - http://emedicine.medscape.com
"Most cases of PPHN have no clear cause or are caused by uncontrollable events. For these cases there are no clear preventative steps." - http://pediatrics.med
"In an otherwise healthy newborn, the cause of PPHN is usually unknown."- http://www.childrenscolorado.org

"Uncontrollable events" is a pretty good way to describe what happened to us in our case with the birth of Lukas because there was no indication that something was terribly wrong. Everything was going the way it was suppose to be until everything spiraled uncontrollably out of our hands, out of everyone's hands. I think back on the minutes after Lukas was born, and all I remember is seeing a herd of docters, midwives and nurse's panicking, it was chaos and it certainly looked like no one knew what the hell was going on. "Uncontrollable events."

Its been hard to process this. I thought it would bring me some peace and comfort but it seems to have made it worse. Perhaps this is part of the grieving process, a step closer to healing, a step closer to acceptance, a step closer to understanding  But I do not understand. Life is just cruel, my baby should have survived and no one can tell me that it just wasn't meant to be.

Thursday, 5 September 2013

30, spring and wanting answers.

Today is my birthday. I'm officially over my 20's and entering a new decade of life! Its going to take a little use to saying that I'm 30 now. Its also spring. My favorite season after summer of course! I have a feeling this month is going to be a month of a lot of reflection. I'm going to spend this spring creating Lukas's memorial garden. I cant wait! I've never been much of a gardener but I have this urge to start digging and shop around for pretty coloured flowers. I received a special memorial plaque the other day which I ordered 2 months ago from a lovely company. This company make them for free for families with infant loss. I'm going to place the plaque in the garden, in Lukas's garden. I will post before and after photos so watch this space!

I have been trying to stay positive lately but it can be hard through the loneliness, worry and fear.
We still have not opened the postmortem report, we are quite hesitant, its almost like we are scared that we know that there will be no explanation as in to why Lukas just suddenly stopped breathing after birth. I wrote on Facebook the other day, "Its easier to believe that Lukas was just too perfect for earth."- but as much as that is comforting at times, we do need an answer.
The coroner has still not closed the case, I feel that the investigation is taking far too long. I do wonder everyday what the outcome will be, so far we have not been given any official medical explanation to why this happened, as I have said many times before: we know what happened but we just don't know why, will the report give us any answers? I don't know. I really do hope we can have some closure with a decent explanation, I'm hoping the coroner will close the case soon and I'm also hoping we will have the courage to open the report.

Lukas's memorial garden plaque






Monday, 2 September 2013

That perfect moment

I've thinking a lot lately going back to that moment when Lukas was born. When that moment was perfect, he was perfect, that moment when our family was complete. I look back at this photo and it brings me joy, it brings me truth and I now have a new way of appreciating the time I had with our son. I'm happy he got to be in his mothers arms, I'm happy we had that short moment of bonding, I'm happy both my partner and daughter experienced the birth. I'm happy my mum was there too. I'm happy I heard Lukas's cries and that I had a chance to see his beautiful big brown eyes. It may have been only a moment, but what a moment it was. I can separate the nightmare that came after this photo was taken and just remember that moment of pure love, that moment when our dream came true.


Friday, 30 August 2013

Where I am now: all over the place

This post is all over the place!

It's been 4 months, 2 weeks and 2 days since I lost Lukas. Everything still feels so raw but yet it feels like it was so long ago now. I fear that time is going too fast and I hang on to my cherished memories of my son with all my heart, but I'm scared that one day he will be forgotten. It's almost like in some way I'm scared to move on from this phase of grief. Its no wonder they say that "you never get over Grief you just learn to live through it." I can see now what that means. I guess that grief over time changes, they say it gets easier to live with, I read stories with a hopeful heart that I too will be more at peace with  my loss one day.

It's difficult being a bereaved mother to a child in heaven. I feel like its my responsibility to keep his memory alive, I want to talk about him, I want to tell his story and share the joy he gave me through so much sadness but its not exactly the thing you just share with people. I wish my story was different , I wish I could carry Lukas in my arms so there would be no sad story to tell but there is and so I carry him in my heart and as much as I feel and know that he was alive to me I wish he could be alive to the world.

I'm floating in this crippled aftermath. I'm left battling my personal demons on my own. I feel stranded and alone in this sea of grief and if it may sound like I'm asking for attention or sympathy, I'm not. I'm just heartbroken, shattered and tired. Grief is tiresome, it's burns my soul and sometimes it's so burnt I feel like hiding from the world. The anxiety is creeping back and bringing me down at the most unexpected times. Grief has a way of sneaking in like that.
I'm doing things to help me through this. I have my counseling and my grief support. I find creative ways to heal myself, I read other stories online through a broad infant loss community which I'm so grateful for and I write. These things help but they do not mend me,at least not straight away, there is no magical cure for loosing a child, its a long tough road, so I'm told.

I'm living the same life but its not the same one. What was suppose to be a new norm for me : the life that was suppose to be, the life of having my baby at home, a life of revisiting maternal joy and the sounds of cries and giggles is gone. GONE just like that. It makes me question life a lot. This has changed my whole perspective of life. Life can trick you in to believing that everything is going to be OK straight though to actually feeling it. I had Lukas in my arms alive and crying and it was all taken away just like that. Like God had snapped his fingers and decided right then and there that Lukas was not suppose to be part of this world, its almost like we were teased, fooled and then robbed of our son. I'm battling my own haunting thoughts about that moment and not having answers has a lot do with this. I just don't know how much more longer I can take of my patience ticking away like a time bomb just for some dam answers.

Lukas's Prayer Flag for August 19th Day of Hope, I decided to go for a baby blue theme. Its all sewed onto one of the many "cuddlys" that my daughter was attached to as a baby and were passed down to her brother.  It was so therapeutic making this,I love it and its now hanging above his shelf among his many other special treasures. 


Friday, 16 August 2013

Trying to be strong

Yesterday was a hard day.
I've never been a confident public speaker, I remember being forced to do speeches in school and I would always have a mini anxiety attack before it was my turn to face a sea of crowded children all huddled up with their eyes piercing at me, the teacher in the corner like a giant observing my every move and word that came out of my mouth.
Something similar happened last night. I went to my first grief group counseling session. There were only 5 of us, all women from all different walks of life with all different stories to tell and not all of them were linked to a death. But all these women were experiencing a loss of some sort. 
We had to share our story of why we were there, I knew this was coming but I still didn't feel prepared enough to share it without my heart jumping out of my chest. I avoided going first, after hearing three stories and everyone already crying I had to share mine and so I did. I didn't drop one tear, its not because I didn't want to but I'm still trying to understand why I do this. When I attended a support group session for bereaved parents last month I did the same. I let my emotions flood into my head but I swallow my silent tears to avoid showing any kind of emotion in front of people I don't know.
Trying to be strong. 
Trying to be strong can take a toll on my body, I literally felt sick to my stomach after that. I bottled up my emotions in such an intense way I thought I was going to be sick. I came home, hiding it from my daughter and partner, but I couldn't hold on to it anymore and I cried, cried and cried. Everything came back flooding in and broke down the walls of my "trying be strong". 
A wave of emotions drown me and I  need to come to the surface to breathe every now and then. Crying is my breath of life. When it all gets too much sometimes and the strength is too overwhelming, crying is my way out, a fresh breath of air and then I'm OK until the next wave hits again. But among all this grief and tears I still manage to get up every time I get knocked down, among all this sadness and sorrow I'm still alive.

I'm still standing

We're still standing








Tuesday, 13 August 2013

Dear Lukas


You are four months today and I cant help to wonder what life would have been like if you were here, I cant help to think about the things you would be doing now.
Would you be giggling?
Would you be sleeping into a routine?
I wonder if I would need to rock you to sleep just like how I did with your big sister when she was a baby. She would fall asleep to Coldplay every night, I wonder what music I would play for you?
Would we have moved you into your cot now? I bet you would have definitely out grown the bassinet by now!
I wonder how much you weigh?
I wonder what your sister would be doing with you right now? I'm sure she would be helping me with you, dressing you ,maybe even changing your smelly nappies.
I wonder how Dad would play with you?
Would you be bouncing about on the bouncer Wela got you?
Would we be taking daily strolls in the pram to pick up your sister from school?
I wonder how much hair you have now?
All these little things I wonder about.
I wonder about you all the time.
It makes me sad that we never got to do all these little things with you.
But I also feel happy that I can still love you, I cant be doing all these things I wish we could do together but I can still give you all my love..and that's pretty special.

Love Mummy



Friday, 9 August 2013

Hopes turned into dust

I've had a lot of in between time to reflect on things. I've been thinking back a lot lately on the miscarriage I had before falling pregnant with Lukas. I had never experienced a miscarriage before, it was scary, frightening and horrible. I had no control of what my body was doing. The day I fell pregnant with my jelly bean was a day of joy, happiness and good news. I texted Justin straight after the pregnancy test turned positive. We told everyone straight away. The day I lost jelly bean was a day of grief, sadness and shock. That day I noticed something was not right and I knew straight away that this was bad. I had gone to a midwife clinic and my GP only once when I noticed spotting a couple of days before. Both times at the midwife clinic and at  my GP the pregnancy test I took was still positive so I was hopeful, it actually never passed through my mind that there was a possibility of miscarrying.
When it was happening I called my friend and partner to tell them I had to urgently go to the hospital. We got there and I told them I think I was having a miscarriage, they took me in straight away. After waiting, required IV tubes and nurses checking on me, the docter came and gave me an examination, he did a scan and I will never forget those words " I'm sorry I can't see a baby" he then told me there was nothing anyone could do and I was to go home. Everything felt so clinical. I never got to find out how far along I was but I was at least 6/7 weeks. The grief I felt after that was hard, of course I was angry and sad but I said to myself that the pregnancy was not meant to be. I sometimes feel guilty that the grief I felt for jelly bean vanished quickly and disappeared when I fell pregnant with Lukas. But I'm also somewhat thankful it happened. If I never lost jelly bean I never would have enjoyed being pregnant the way I did. I never would have met my baby boy Lukas. But I also get mad. That after experiencing a miscarriage and feeling so sad I was once again so happy when I was pregnant with our baby boy. This was it. The baby we wanted. But it all took a different turn and once again our hopes were broken.
As time has gone past since Lukas flew away (3 months, 3 weeks and 5 days) I think about how life is so precious and unpredictable. I think about how life can be so unfair, and sometimes it's not in our control. Who decides to bring life into this world? Why was jellybean not meant to be? Why was Lukas taken away from his family that wanted him so much? Who grants life? All these questions but yet I wish no answer. If God is so good then why would he create life and possibilities in the first place only for it to be cruelly taken away? There is a poem that I have come across a few times and its called Gods Lent Children. I hate it. Is there dare I say a lesson to be learnt front this? I don't know. Perhaps. But what could possibly have to be learnt from loosing a pregnancy, from loosing a baby, a piece of my heart. Pieces of my heart that were filled with hope only for them to turn into dust.




Thursday, 1 August 2013

Shaken up confidence.

So life is OK. Its not great but its livable. I don't think life will ever be the same for me. I often think about Lukas. There isn't a day where I don't wish he was here. I get reminded all the time of what we are missing out on, and its not fair. But what can I do? As much as I dwell on it, its not going to change and its not going to bring him back. I think about that day, the day he was born, where everything was perfect yet everything was not. I think about it and I have somehow come to terms with the events, its not to say I accept it , but its slowly interchanging from shock into it happened. I'm OK thinking about it and the loop of events has stopped in my head but its the missing part that is hard to live with. I'm missing a piece of my heart that will never mend because Lukas cannot be replaced. Missing Lukas is an everyday struggle and knowing that I will never get to see him again is heart breaking. I long so much to be his mum and I'm left with so much nurturing to give him but its impossible.
Everything that has happened has caused an emotional shake to my confidence. I was so confident when I was pregnant, I was so sure about everything, because well everything was actually going good.
I was confident that I was going to be the best mum I could be to Lukas, I was ready for the dirty nappies, the late nights, the love, the dreams, my baby. I was confident for everything that never happened. I'm not very confident now days, my self esteem has dropped. Some days I have plans to do something but I end up in tears because I just cant be bothered (and that's a nice way to put it) of actually looking a little bit nice, of facing the world. I just hate the way I look now. I miss my pregnant belly, its just an empty lifeless sac now.
I cant be bothered doing my hair, I cant be bothered wearing makeup. I hate shopping for clothes it just all feels like a waste of time. I know these things are not important, but I wish I wasn't so insecure about myself. 
So as much as I say that life is some what OK, I guess its not.

I've been hearing this song a lot lately. It was the song played at Lukas's service. His song goodbye.
After my counselling session last week it came up on the radio in the car while I was driving past the hospital where Lukas was born. So many thoughts were running through my head. That day was a hard one. The lyrics "This glorious sadness" mean so much to me. The glory of giving birth to my son but the sadness of having to say goodbye much too soon.





Saturday, 20 July 2013

A letter to Lukas

Dear Son,

I often wonder if you are safe. I ask God that he takes care of you and surrounds you with people that love you. I often wonder if the short time you spent on earth was painful and I wonder if you suffered. I hope with every tear of love I shed for you that you didn't. I'm sorry if you did. 
I often wonder if you were scared when you came into this world and had to be taken away from my arms so quickly. I hope you felt my love for you when I held you for that short moment. I wish I could know what you were feeling. I wish I could have protected you. I hope you didn't feel any pain when you had to fly away. I often wonder why you couldn't stay and I ask God why would he take such an innocent little soul away. You are the purest of souls I will ever know in my life.
I often wonder that when it is time for me to leave this earth if I will get to see you. Will you be how I remember you? Will I get a chance to mother you and see you grow? Would I get to cradle you in my arms again ? Or would you be the one to show me the way while holding my hand. I do not know what life awaits for me after my time is up in this world. But I hope with all my heart that I will get to see you again. Will you remember me? Will you recognize me? 
I often wonder if you know how much I love you. I often wonder if you know how much I miss you.
I'm sorry Lukas that you are not here. I'm sorry that you couldn't stay. I hope your safe and warm, I hope you are loved and in a beautiful place. I hope you feel happiness, joy and peace. Please know we love you very much. Please know we will never ever forget you. If I had one wish I would wish to see you again, and I wish that it may come true one day whenever that day may be.

Love Mummy.
 



Friday, 5 July 2013

Seeing Beauty in the dark

Its been 2 months, 2 weeks and 5 days since I lost Lukas.
I'm working Monday to Friday. Saturday mornings are spent battling the freezing cold crispy weather standing on the side lines at my daughters netball games. I don't go out much apart from that. Everyone's busy. I'm busy, well as busy as I want to be. I spend my free time buying beads online to make bracelets which is my new crafty obsession at the moment.
When its warm I go for a walk at the beach and write my baby boys name in the sand.
I seem to be functioning OK, I can get myself out of bed, and do the whole routine. But inside I'm still broken, broken into a million pieces of shattered heart break and I'm trying to find a way to fix it. I don't know if it ever will be fixed, the pieces might be able to mend over time, but I feel that my heart will always be fragile, yes I may look strong from the outside but I'm so sensitive from the inside.

Its been a roller coaster and I've never really liked roller coasters. They are scary and unpredictable, one minute your up high and the next your whirling downwards. I hate riding on my roller coaster. I might be driving on a steady pace of normality only to be hit by a sharp turn of sorrow and tears.

I remember back to those darkest of dark days, the weeks which is now leading to months (hardly.)
It was dark and cold, there seemed no way out. It felt like a door was slammed in front of my face leaving me bruised and tender. I was afraid I will never be able to see beauty again.
I was wrong.
Even though I still feel like I'm in the dark, I can see a little light. I can see beauty in things I never really saw before.
My grief has opened up my eyes to the beauty of this earth.
I can see Lukas in all things beautiful.
I see him in the clear blue sky and in the stars at night.
I see him in the rainbow and in the big bright moon.
I can feel him in the crispy winter breeze and in the warmth of the sun.
I can hear him in the songs of birds and in the crashing of waves.
I can see him in the butterfly's. The butterfly's that I always seem to just catch a glimpse of, especially on a day where I'm feeling down.
When I was heavily pregnant on a hot summers days I sat under a tree at my daughters school festival, my friend noticed that there were a whole lot of monarch butterflies flying above my head. It was beautiful.
Today as I drove to work I told myself that once I finished I would pay a visit to Lukas at where he lays. I forgot and I was already half way home. I felt sad and I was prepared to turn back. A butterfly then flew in front of my window screen as I was driving, it came out of nowhere, I felt a sudden rush of happiness and peace. I know these butterfly's are signs from Lukas to tell me not to worry and that he is with me everyday in spirit.
I have always liked butterfly's.
Even through the darkness of grief I can see a portrait of beauty and for that I am grateful. Thank you Lukas.


Thursday, 27 June 2013

Precious Minutes

When Lukas was born I held him straight away, I remember feeling his warm slippery body in my hands as I positioned myself to place him on my chest. His skin so soft and warm against mine. I'm not too sure how long I was holding him, it wasn't long, but it was enough to look into his eyes, kiss his forehead, hear his cries and fall in love with him.
I have footage of the birth which my mum filmed, it wasn't planned. I wanted my mum at the birth as a support person but it turns out my lovely Justin did well on his own, no panic, no worries, just excellent. The labor was excellent, so smooth and natural. Mum was just watching so she filmed the whole thing.
I've watched the footage a couple of times, I was surprised by my first reaction to watching it, I just smiled, its not a everyday thing where you watch yourself giving birth!

I still smile with happiness when I watch the footage of those precious minutes of our baby boy. I can see him, I see Lukas, my son, my baby, alive and feisty, His cries and grizzles are like music to my ears. I see his dark eyes and his fluffy brown hair.
Its a perfect moment, of me, my partner, and our children all huddled together. My family.

(I just happened to receive a phone call from the NICU doctor while writing this blog post, the reports are yet to be released so we will not be getting any answers next month as we hoped.)


Snapshots of the footage

Moments after birth

Anjelina meeting her baby brother

Admiring Lukas (Proud Dad on the right and big sister on the left)

Feeling so proud of my children

Perfect family moment





Thursday, 20 June 2013

Fear

Fear. Its something that is creeping up to me.
Haunting me in my sleep...
Nightmares.

I have never experienced fear like this before, sure there's the fear of creepy crawlies or the fear of thinking someone is going to murder me after a horror movie, but that's different, its a insignificant fear. Meaningless.
This growing fear I have is real and it comes to me most vividly in my dreams.

I had a dream about 2 weeks ago that the whole world around me was disappearing, it was melting into a big black hole, demolished and destroyed into pure darkness of nothing, and I was holing onto something , holding onto my life, scared that I also was going to vanish. I woke up before anything else happened.

I had another dream about 4 nights ago, where I had a baby. It was a newborn but it wasn't Lukas. I don't know if it was a boy or girl. I was in the hospital when I noticed it stopped breathing, I pressed the emergency bell but no one came in. I was in a panic. I placed the gas mask on this little baby, but it was too late. The dream ended like that.

I've also dreamed on two occasions where I have been told by either midwives or doctors that I would not be able to conceive again, in one of those dreams there was also a lady present, fully pregnant and holding a baby while I was told I will not able to get pregnant at all.

Fear.

Fear of loosing hope, loosing faith. Fear of getting pregnant or not getting pregnant . Fear of all this happening again, fear of loosing another baby. Fear of maybe not getting answers. Fear of death. Fear of not trusting again.





Thursday, 13 June 2013

God among this mess

I find comfort in believing that Lukas is in a safe place with God.
But I do not find comfort in seeking God to find peace through my despair.

Its easy for people to tell me "Seek God to help you through this" or "God needed him"
God needed him? I need him. Your telling me that I had to sacrifice my son for God? - and as in for finding peace through him - he is the last person I want to talk to right now.
Yes I am angry at God, I'm mad and I am giving him the cold shoulder.

When I sat in that nicu room with nothing except hope in God that he will save my baby, I was on my last disappearing thread of faith to trust that everything will be OK.
The thread broke when my son died in my arms.

Maybe its the grieving process. maybe it because we don't have answers, maybe its because I need to blame someone or something.

Everything happens for a reason right? That's the other thing people tell me - So maybe one day when I look back I will understand why this happened? 
I cant see that happening any time soon, I don't see any possible goodness in loosing a child even if its 1 year, 2, 5 or 10 years down the track form now.

All I ask from God is to look after Lukas where ever he may be. I know he will do this and I am thankful for that.. but until the day I see my son again, only then will I be at peace.







Sunday, 9 June 2013

Emptiness

There is no other word to describe it but emptiness.
The feeling is piercing and it feels like my heart has been ripped out of my chest.
I have never felt it before, this feeling of longing for someone that is gone. Longing for someone that will never return. Someone that is gone forever. My baby, my child.
He will never be with me.
I will never get to see him.
I will never see his face smile or giggle.
I will never hear his cries or wipe his teary eyes.
I will never have him in my arms again.
I will never get to kiss him better.
I will never get to cuddle him and press his cheek against mine.
I will never feel his warmth, his soft baby skin.
I will never hold his hand or touch his little feet.
I will never rock him to sleep or watch him breath.
I will never watch him grow.

It wasn't meant to be like this. His room and all his wonderful things are in there waiting... but waiting for what. There is no baby.

For nines months I carried my son. I gave birth to him and he was alive, my dream came true. But it ended too soon, much too soon.

The dream turned into a nightmare.

I had him for a day but now he's gone for a life time, and now there's only this feeling...

This feeling of emptiness.







Thursday, 6 June 2013

Dear Lukas

Dear Lukas,

We are so sad that you are not here with us, but we hope that you know how much mummy and daddy love you. We had so many dreams and hopes for you and we feel empty without you. 
We would have loved to see you grow and take you on many adventures. 
Daddy would take you fishing in his boat out to the ocean on a beautiful day. 
Mummy would take you to the beach and make sand castles with you. 
We would hold your hand as you took your first step and at your first day of school. 
Daddy says you would play rugby and he would take you to all your games. 
Mummy would bake lots of cookies for you (if your big sister didn't eat them all first!)
Mummy would love to kiss you and cuddle you and show you to all her friends. 

Daddy would take you for a drive in his "beast" (mummy thinks daddy's car is just loud and annoying shhh...)
Mummy would sing lullabies and rock you to sleep. 

Mummy and daddy would let you snuggle in our bed for lots of morning cuddles.
Mummy and Daddy miss you so much.

We wish you were here with us but we promise that we will do all we can to love you here on earth. 
You are our angel now, you are so special, you are our baby boy, you are our son. We love you Lukas.

Lots of love, Mummy and Daddy



Thursday, 30 May 2013

Life without Lukas.

A couple of nights ago, Lukas appeared to me in a dream.
He looked exactly as how I remember him.
In my dream someone bought him back home, I open the front door and there he was.
My little bundle of joy wrapped up in a blanket, wearing the same clothes that he was buried in.
He wasn't moving or crying, but I was so happy that he was home.
I picked him up and the joy I felt of having him in my arms again was something I had never experienced before.
I was so happy.
I cuddled him and kissed his chubby cheeks but then I woke up and it was over.
I wanted to cry after that dream, but I didn't, I forced back the tears. I have been doing that a lot lately.
I don't know why. I guess I'm just trying to be strong.
I have moments out of nowhere ,where I just want to cry but I tell myself not to. I'm just trying to get by as normally as possible.
I'm confused, confused between feeling relieved that life has gained a little bit of normality with everyday things, but dreadful that this life after Lukas has passed is not the one we wanted.

Life has to go on...but without Lukas.

Every day is a mental struggle, I think of him 24 hours a day and even through work or a little bit of distraction, hes always there.
Its all I do now days. I'm not sure how long I'm suppose to feel like this.

Does it get easier?

Will I accept it one day?

 I don't know, for now all I want is him back. I want him to be part of our lives. I want to love him here on earth and not in heaven.


I don't like this life without Lukas. 






Friday, 24 May 2013

Screaming from the inside

I feel like I'm screaming from the inside.
I want to run away to an isolated place and scream towards the skies.
I'm functioning from the outside but my brain is short circuiting from memories that are on repeat.
I rewind , I fast forward, I pause.

This process of wanting to know answers is tormenting me, why does it have to take so long? Why did my baby die? Can someone just please give me a dam answer!

I cant sleep, I cant think about anything else. I miss him so much.
These feelings are in-describable.
Its a sadness so painfully deep into my soul that a part of me feels like its dying. My heart is drenched in tears.

I look fine in other peoples eyes but inside I'm raging with uncertainty and fear. I don't feel strong, I feel like any day I could just collapse in my sorrows. I'm just surviving.
Surviving in a world that just keeps rotating.
Day after day, time just ticking away and I'm sitting here frozen as everything around me keeps going.






Thursday, 23 May 2013

The Pain

These last couple of days have been painful. I see pregnant mothers everywhere, it reminds me how happy I was when I had my baby boy still inside me. I would look at the mums walking around the mall with their babies, knowing that soon I could hold my own baby in my arms too, now I avoid looking at them. I know several mothers that will soon be able to take their healthy newborn babies home and it makes me feel so empty inside. I'm sad, I'm not jealous or angry, its an emptiness feeling. A feeling so empty that I will not be able to enjoy the pleasures of mothering a baby so innocent and precious, a baby that is healthy , a baby that is alive. At the same time I feel selfish and insensitive of the thoughts surrounding my grief like I should bottle all these emotions, that I should banish their existence.

My baby passed now its time to get over it.  Don't dwell on it. Don't be sad. Don't think why me? Don't drown in sorrow. Don't imagine what life could be like. 

But I am...

I'm not changing nappies or feeding him as much as my body yearns to nourish him.
I'm not dressing him or bathing him, I dressed him once and that was for his funeral.
I'm not waking up in the middle of the night to attend to him, I wake up because I'm over flooded with grief only wishing I could just hear him cry. 
I don't have friends coming to visit him to give him cuddles and kisses, I have to take them to where they can visit his grave.


I've had more then one person say to me - "at least you have a child"
Yes that is true. I do have a child and I am forever grateful that I have my daughter by my side. I will never forget the moment I gave birth to my beautiful daughter 10 years ago and the privilege I have of seeing her grow.
Yes I did all the beautiful mummy/baby things with her. Yes I did bring her home alive.
I love my daughter more then anything in this world, but all the happiness and love I have for her can not cover my grief. It can not replace the fact that I have lost my son, that she has lost her brother, a baby brother that she was looking forward to more than anything in her life.

It can not replace that fact the I have lost one of my children when I'm meant to have 2.

Life is so precious. Babies are precious. Never take time for granted. Enjoy every second, every breath, every cry and every kiss.

Wednesday, 22 May 2013

So many ideas and one bad dream.

I've recently been so overwhelmed with so many ideas of how to keep Lukas's memory alive . I've had to tell myself to slow down, there's so many things I want to get done. My sister had an awesome idea to get silver heart shaped lockets for all the women in our family, I'm still in the process of getting them. Once I have them I plan to get them engraved with his name and place a photo inside them. It will be a way we can always treasure him and have him close to our hearts. I have photo albums that I need to do, I have photos that need framing to go along with his hand and foot prints. I need to get started on his memory box where I can have all his little treasures safely kept. I promised my son yesterday that I will get them all done.

I had a horrible dream last-night that everything in Lukas's room was packed away. His clothes, his cot, bassinet, changing table, toys, drawers...they were all gone. It was empty and I was furious. It didn't feel right. Its like he was to be forgotten and never remembered. His room is so special to me, every morning I take a moment in there to admire all his things. It may sound silly, but I feel closer to him in there, possibly because he was there before we had to say our last goodbye. I can still smell him sometimes, I don't know if its just me going crazy but I can. I feel sad when I'm in there but I also feel happy because I know he was real, and even though hes not at home physically he will always be home in our hearts.


These are a few treasures I have displayed in his room. The bookmark was designed by Anjelina my daughter and they were given out at his funeral service. The blue little bunny was from his grandma, the stone says "A little life, not a little loss". It was in the Sands pack that we received at the hospital along with the red candle and other things. Sands is a beautiful non-profit organisation here in New Zealand for bereaved parents of baby loss. They are great and their support packs are wonderful, and I have kept everything because it came in such a sensitive and traumatic time that I appreciated it so much. The blue candle was lit during his stay at home.

Sunday, 19 May 2013

Time standing still

It's been 5 weeks today since Lukas came into our lives outside of my womb and left too soon. For every month, week and day that passes there isn't a moment where I don't think of him. It feels like time is standing still yet it go's by so quickly. These last few days have been difficult, nights have been restless. There are so many questions. We are still to hear back from the coroner, all I know at this point is there will be a meeting coming up sometime in July with the medical team that cared for him along with the coroner. I want to know answers but I'm also dreading that day.
Why would my perfect baby just be so cruelly snatched from us? Why would he be taken away from a life where we would love him more then anything? Perinatal asphyxia due to unknown reasons: that's what the autopsy says. But why? Why did he find it hard to breath once he was cut from the umbilical cord? Could something have been picked up from the scan? Why did this happen to us? Why??? Did the docters do everything they could? What if we had left him on the machines for a little longer? Was there a chance that he could of picked up? So many questions and no answers.


Tuesday, 14 May 2013

Back to "normality"

I go back to work today. I'm slowly letting myself get back into routine. I'm picking up a few shifts to ease my self into it. I'm dreading the residents asking me about my baby as most of them wouldn't know what happened. I feel saddened with the fact that what I was waiting for is not here and the change we were so desperately waiting for is not the one we wanted. I feel like I should be home changing his nappies, feeding him, hearing him giggle, playing with him, teaching him, holding him, hearing him breathe and watching him sleep. But I'm not doing any of that.

It doesn't feel right. My life feels incomplete. But life has to eventually go back to normality.

Sunday, 12 May 2013

Mother's Day

Its been 4 weeks exactly since my little Lukas flew away on the early hours of a Sunday morning. I remember waddling over to the room at roughly 2:30 am to see how we was doing. I opened the door, the nurse looked at me straight away and said "great timing"  she was just about to get me and my partner because things were not progressing well. I remember the tone of her voice when she said it, as if she knew exactly what was going to happen. She told me to be back as soon as possible. I felt dead, my instinct was telling me this was not good, the walk back to the parents room felt like a million miles, my voice shattered with fear as I told my hubby what the nurse had just told me. He cursed. He got up. He looked as weak and tired as I was. We walked back to the room holding hands...

That's the memory I woke up to this morning.

My daughter ran into my room this morning excited to get started in making me breakfast in bed. She was so proud that she had learnt how to make french toast that she couldn't wait to make me some for my annual mothers day breakfast in bed. Shes 10 years old, my baby, my girl, she still gives me kisses and hugs constantly and I love it.
She walks in with a breakfast tray, a large hot coffee in my favorite mug and her proudly made french toasts, a card, a box of chocolates and a little heart shaped crystal in a silver gift box. I tell her breakfast looks amazing and I open up my mothers day card. It reads To Mummy from Lukas and Anjelina. I can feel my eyes tearing up. I continue to read. Dear mum, you are the best mum in the world. I love you mum and thanks for everything you do for me, I love you mum. Anjelina. Dear mummy, I love you and I miss you too. I wish I could be here right now with my family. You will be in my hearts forever, Happy mothers day,Lukas. She had written a message on behalf of her baby brother which just blew me away, it was heartbreaking, it was beautiful. I truly believe they have a in-explainable bond. What makes me feel happy is that she acknowledges that she still is a big sister. I told her I loved the card and that I love her more then anything, We snuggled up in bed eating chocolates until late morning.

We went to see Lukas in the afternoon, The day was perfect ,warm and bright with not a cloud in the baby blue sky. We stopped to get flowers and a brand new windmill. The drive to the cemetery is always a quiet one, its a drive of sad memories as I recall the day of the service. Lukas was in his tiny white coffin in the back seat with his big sister looking after him, her eyes not for a moment drifting away from him.

We placed his new flowers and windmill for him, rearranged and tidied up his little spot. We step back to admire him and remember him. We leave... but I don't want to. I want to stay. I cry all the way home, I feel grateful that I have a beautiful child next to me with unconditional love towards me but I'm devastated that I cant have my son next to me too. I want both my children in my arms. I want to have mornings snuggled up with both of them, I want kisses and hugs from both of them, I want trips to the park not the cemetery in perfect weather with both of them, I want to be able to tell them both everyday that I love them more then anything, I want to see both of their smiles, both of them play, both of them grow.








Friday, 10 May 2013

Lukas's Story

Our baby boy was born full-term at 39 weeks and 5 days. The following story is what I remember of those 26 hours that Lukas was alive. Since writing this story in May 2013 we have been given a diagnosis of Lukas's cause of death. Lukas suffered from prolonged birth asphyxia due to a diagnosis of a "spontaneous"and critical condition of persistent pulmonary hypertension of the newborn (pphn), regarding I did not fall into any of the risk factors the true cause is "unknown"  we will never know exactly what happened or why . He weighed 4.270 kgs and measured 53.4 cm.


The beginning: 9 months of beauty


The moment I found out I was pregnant again (after a early miscarriage) I was in so much joy. I knew this pregnancy was going to be special. I couldn't wait to start showing my bump because it was something I was so proud of. I felt so comfortable being pregnant and during those 9 months of beauty I took as many photos of my growing belly as I could. I loved the sensation of my baby kicking and tumbling around inside me , I loved how my hubby, daughter and I were creating a bond with this little boy straight from the start. They would place their hands on my belly as we watched TV. Justin would always be surprised with every kick and say "that's my boy". My hubby couldn't wait to have a son, my daughter couldn't wait to finally be a sister, I couldn't wait to be a mum to a boy.
I had a completely healthy pregnancy with no complications, concerns or complaints! I never had morning sickness, my pregnancy was amazingly perfect.  Lukas was a healthy strong little boy for 9 months which is why the outcome minutes after his birth were so tragic, devastating, confusing and just cruel.


The labor and birth : A perfect moment

I started having contractions the night before Lukas was born. I remember sitting on the couch watching TV at about 10 pm when I started to feel very minor cramps. I went to bed and had a rather restless night as little contractions kept waking me up. At about 5 am I noticed that I had a show, I eagerly told Justin that I was pretty sure our baby was coming by tonight. We were so excited. My daughter got up as usual to get ready for school and we shared the news with her, her face just shone with happiness, she wanted to stay home but we sent her to school like any other day as I knew we were still a long way to go.  I made a phone call to my mother to tell her that baby was on the way, and as we had arranged months prior she took the first plane from Auckland and arrived by lunchtime. The waiting game started, by 10 pm that night contractions were getting stronger and so it was time to drive up to the hospital. We all hopped in the car, Anjelina and mum were coming too as I wanted them present at the birth as well. My midwife didn't quite believe me that I was in labor at first because of the irregularity of my contractions, she said it was possibly just a urine infection but who's better to know when your in labor then yourself, to her surprise I was already 6 cm dilated.  She broke my waters to get things rolling and after another 2 hours of a very smooth and controlled labor with nothing but gas, Lukas had finally arrived at 1:05 am, 13th April on a Saturday morning.
I heard his feisty cry and the moment I saw him and lifted him up to my chest I fell in love in an instant. He grizzled and talked, he was very vocal, his eyes were wide open, he was perfect and beautiful. I was completely over the moon that he had finally arrived. Justin and Anjelina were admiring him by my bedside, Anjelina was overwhelmed in tears of joy and love. I rocked him in my arms against my chest and told him he was alright and that mummy's here, I looked into his big brown eyes and I kissed his forehead. As I held him in my arms the umbilical cord was cut. Little did I know this perfect moment was soon to end, it would be the first and last time I see his beautiful eyes open, the first and last time I hear him, the first and last time I touch his warm skin against mine.


The Shock : "We have a flat baby"

The midwife was rubbing him with heated towels. She kept rubbing and rubbing  Suddenly she took him off my arms and placed him on the baby table , she gave him gas, she pushed the emergency button. A herd of docters and nurses came rushing in, I laid there all exposed, legs open, bleeding, exhausted, in shock and confused as to what was happening. It felt like complete chaos.  I look over to my left and all I see is a blue baby. My mum and daughter are told to leave the room.The nurses kept reassuring me that "he was going to be OK , I didn't respond.  A docter yells out "we have a flat baby" he grabs him and runs out. I'm left lying there, wondering what in earth is happening. I don't remember much from here as its a blur, I think I was in denial as to what was happening or maybe it was just complete shock. The midwife comes back to check me, she's worried about some fluid I'm leaking, the docter checks it, stitches me up and it turns out nothing to be worried about, I get up, I don't know where Justin is at this point, I have a shower, I feel dizzy and sick. I get changed, the midwife tells me Lukas needs to be transferred to Hamilton where they have a more equipped neonatal intensive care unit. Mum and Anjelina have to go home so Justin drops them off. I tell my daughter that everything was alright and that we will see her soon.  I'm left alone in the room for what felt like hours. I get up and walk over to the other unit where Lukas was. He doesn't look well, his skin is a blue tint and hes hooked up to wires and tubes and a ventilator, hes so cold. The pediatrician gives me what sounds like a speech, I don't understand any of it. I start feeling like I'm drifting away, her voice sounds like its miles away, I feel ill. I start swaying and tell her I think I'm going to pass out. She gets me a chair and a drink. I come back, she tells me a special team from Waikato are travelling here by helicopter to transfer him, I ask if I can be with him, she says no because there would be too much weight on-board. The team arrives, they seem too patient and oblivious to how I was feeling inside, I wanted them to fix him right there and now, they talk among themselves, all I could do was watch. Justin comes back, the nurses tell us it would be a good idea to start making our way to Waikato, I kissed my little baby, and touched his hand, he grasps my finger which would be the first and last time I feel his grip, I took some photos and told him I'll see him soon. Justin packed my bags and only 2 hours after giving birth to Lukas, I walked to the car park and we made our 2 hour drive to the hospital . It was a foggy and gloomy night, I fall asleep....


The next 24 hours: Joy, Hope and Loss

We arrive at the hospital. We make out way to the NICU ward. They had just arrived a couple of minutes before us. We see Lukas and he's looking much better already. The docter gives us an update, he's unsure to what might be causing him not to circulate enough oxygen around his tiny body, it could be his lungs, it could be his heart. We don't know. I want to touch him, but we cant stimulate him too much as hes so sensitive, I touch his hand and there's no grip this time. They have had to paralyze him so he doesn't fight against the ventilator. I remember the docter telling me that I needed as much rest as possible because in a couple of days my milk would come through and he would need feeding, that never happened. I feel sick again, I need to sit down. Everything is such a blur again. We leave the room and spend the next couple of hours just pacing around the corridors  We start making a few phone calls to family and friends. It all seems like a nightmare, and I desperately want to wake up. The team keep updating us about his progress but I don't understand anything. All I see is them poking him with needles and giving him drug after drug. By this time I don't know how we were even standing, I was past the point of exhaustion that I was just running on adrenalin, fear and hope. Sometime in the afternoon, one of the nurses tell me that he isn't doing too good. We rush into see him, it looked like he was having a seizure or was it just the ventilator at full blast? The docter says, "I'm afraid we might loose him" and asks us if we want a Chaplin to come in. I don't hesitate , I was willing to hold onto any hope. Lukas's heart stops, the team are working on him doing CPR,  I break down in tears and shock. I stand behind Justin's shoulder and I silently start praying. I tell God please to not take my baby away and that I would do anything to keep him alive. The Chaplin arrives, he starts talking to us amongst everything that is happening, it was strange but a rather comforting distraction. he asks us if we would like Lukas to be baptized, I say yes. The docters have managed to bring Lukas back. We are relieved, the chaplain then baptizes him with sterilized water and says a short prayer, he tells us we did a good thing. He then wishes us the best and leaves. Me and Justin stand over Lukas, hes so beautiful. The next couple of hours his sats are up and down, for awhile they are steady and even reach 100. We get a few visitors that day. Mum and Anjelina travel up with family friends. They don't stay for long, I ask mum if she would like to see Lukas but they were working on him and putting even more intravenous's. She could only see him from the door. I don't want Anjelina to see him.  After an hour or so they leave. The evening arrives and he seems reasonably stable according to the sats, but then there is another problem. Hes bleeding too much from the intravenous needles and his blood isn't clotting, they tell us he needs plasma which then means more pricking and poking his fragile body. We retire to our room for an early night. We go to bed hopeful that in the morning everything will be ok. We fall asleep, I get up at about 2 am, I'm so achy and I need a shower. I then tell Justin I'm just going down to see how Lukas is doing. The docter says "good timing" as soon as I walked into the door. She was just about to get us...Lukas is not well. I walk back to our room, it seems miles away. My heart is shaking, I'm shaking. I tell Justin what the nurse just told me. My voice is filled with fear. He gets up, he curses, we walk down to his room together holding hands.

An Angle is Born

Over night Lukas deteriorated a lot. His sats were so low. The nurse tells me it would be a good time to start spending the last couple of minutes with him in my arms. She says his organs are shutting down and his brain activity is nil. It was only the machines keeping him alive. I'm devastated but I'm ready to hold my baby, Justin hesitates and gives Lukas another a minute or 2 while standing over him. I can see his eyes holding onto every last hope. The nurse says in a quiet voice "hes dying". Shes asks me if I want to hold him, I don't hesitate and say yes. She gets a heated blanket to place him on my lap, her and another nurse start pulling out all the tubes, they leave the morphine till last. I look at him with my heart open and take in every second into my soul with nothing but pure love. I cant believe how perfect he is, his hands, fingers and toes are perfection. He's long, a perfect sized baby. I start crying a never ending river of tears, my tears roll down and land on his beautiful face. I tell Justin to take a photo because I want a picture of this moment. All the tubes and drugs were off his body by this point. I tell Lukas that "mummy loves him" and I kiss his little forehead. The docter puts her stethoscope to his chest, and says "There is no heart beat". Justin starts crying and tells me he's gone, he repeatedly says hes sorry, my voice is frozen. The nurses leave to give us a moment with Lukas. I hold Lukas in my arms, I rock him. I say nothing, I only look at him. The nurse comes back and talks to us about a postmortem. We agree to it, they clean him up and place him in a baby bed, I wrap him up nicely in a blanket, we then walk back to the room with Lukas. The nurse gives us a hug and lets out a sob, she tells us shes so sorry. We are informed that the police will be visiting us as its the process in cases of unknown cause of death. We make phone calls to let everyone know. We wait hours for the police to arrive. I'm nervous. During the time we are waiting, I went through what seemed endless emotions. I went silent, I went into denial, I was sad, I wanted to run away, at one point I couldn't even look at him. Justin was going through similar moments. We embraced each other and we told each other to be strong and that no matter what, we were going to get through this together. Two policemen and a policewoman arrive in uniform, it seems so unnecessary but its protocol. A nurse is present the whole time to answer any questions, they ask to look at his body for any trauma, he has a few bruises and stitches from attempted intravenous's but that's it, hes perfect. They are as confused as us as to why this happened to "our good looking man" as the Sergeant called him. We walk to the morgue, even the word sends shivers down my spine. It seemed so far away, we get there, I cant believe any of this is happening. I'm meant to be taking my baby home, not dropping him off at the morgue. We get there, we stop at the entrance and I sob again, they roll him in....
We are then told to give a statement of the events that happened, Justin does most of the talking as I am unable to think,the police tell us they are sorry and leave. We go back to the room, pack our things and head off home without Lukas.







Click here for Part 2 : Saying Goodbye