4 months

Thursday, April 9, 2009

four months ago today the unimaginable happened, cooper died. time behaves differently while one is grieving. in some ways it seems like yesterday that we were at the hospital preparing for cooper's surgery and then in other ways it seems like an eternity since i held cooper in my arms, both versions of time are painful.

last week i felt like the fog was lifting a bit, but this week i am not so sure. i have been unable to get the events of that day out of my mind. us walking into the PICU to see a team of doctors and nurses hovered around cooper, the frantic energy that was in the room, watching cooper's nurse placing the emergent phone call to the operating room to get his surgeon, and the team asking us to leave the room, knowing that the unthinkable was happening. we had only been parents for 3 weeks but we knew we were experiencing every parent's worst nightmare. and then they came in to tell us that he was gone, his heart just stopped working. how do you wrap your mind around that? some days i still cant.

but the memory of that day that breaks my heart all over again, every time i think of it, was holding cooper for the last time. he didn't look like the baby who stole my heart the minute i knew i was pregnant. he was so swollen and heavy from all the fluid. he smelled like chemicals, hospital and death, not the sweet baby scent that i had come to love. no parent should have to hold their dead child. it the most heart wrenching pain i have ever experienced, one that shakes you to the core and makes you question the existence of faith and all that is good.

i don't want to forget that day completely, but i would like some respite from my memories, to have the ability to see some other image when i close my eyes. maybe in this instance time will be my friend. or maybe knowing that a family friend will become a grandmother for the first time today will allow me to have a little bit of faith and with faith comes hope.


  1. I am sorry that today has to remind you of the day your world came crashing down. I know exactly what you mean by that smell of "chemicals, hospital and death". I couldn't have worded it more perfectly. I do understand that you sometimes wish you hadn't held him after he was gone; but I think sometimes it would be worse to have not held him. You'd be wishing forever that you had. There really is no good way to feel, in either situation. I am glad you've been doing generally better. There's always going to be a bad day mixed in with the good, so let it be. You have good reason to be upset today.

    I am thinking of you and your precious Cooper today. I will keep you in my thoughts and prayers.

  2. sending you blessings and comfort today.

  3. how can you support this..you are very strong.I think you did the best to hold your son when he was gone, for the moment it is hard but for the future and your soule (Seele)it is healthier. I hope you can understand my words and senses! my English is bad!
    huggs from Switzerland, Claudine

  4. Thank you for sharing these precious, terrible, healing memories. Know that they are received by mother hearts that, either by experience or empathy, walk with you.
    I can tell you, I would give anything to have held my dead baby girl, to have images that, even while haunting & painful, are real.
    But each experience is unique, and therefor singularly painful.
    May loving arms hold you on this remembering day. It will hurt less, with time, but you will never forget.

  5. Oh Luc - I'm sending extra prayers and blessings to you and your family today.

  6. I know that you are having a rough time right now, and I hope things get better for you. It seems in times like these, you take 2 steps forward and 1 step back. Just keep trudging forward.

  7. I'm can't imagine dealing with the loss of Olivia. It shoots pain though my heart to imagine. I know there is nothing anyone can say to make you feel better and I'm always at a loss for words when it comes to death. Just try to find comfort in knowing that you and Cooper have touched so many lives and in that alone his memory lives on.

    Big hugs-

  8. I absolutely agree with both you and Jaquelyn. I experienced the smells, visions, etc. when Jarod died and, after 5 years, I can say that alot of that does lessen. The pain will always be there, but the vividness(?) is different now than it had been. Its a day-by-day process or sometimes even, a minute-to-minute thing. Take care and know that so many of us are out here praying for you and your husband. Hugs to you both.

  9. luc, i think about you everyday!! how i wish that we could sit down and talk to each other all about our little ones. the first time i ever held zachary was when they took him off life support and allowed him to fall asleep while in my arms...i never got that moment after delivery of bonding with my baby...in fact, i didn't see him til close to 7hrs later! i have not once regretted the decision to hold him...it allowed us the opportunity to fill every single second of his life with the most love that we could. it will be a year and 5 months this week...part of me doesn't want to forget those dreadful memories because somehow they feel part of zachary...i know you are questioning your faith in God and wondering how He could allow such a thing to happen...just know that i pray for you...that you will find His peace and be able to rest in it and find the Hope you are searching for.