Twenty-one years ago the unthinkable happened to me. I was 9 months pregnant and on the day that I was due, I just couldn’t feel the baby move at all. The following morning, at the Doctor’s office, I was given the devastating news that there was no heartbeat. The baby had died inside of me. “Fetal Demise”, they called it, although I challenge any mom 9 months pregnant to think of her baby as a “fetus”.
We named our baby Alexander and buried him about a week later amongst grief that is hard for me to even comprehend, let alone explain.
Alex became part of our everyday life. I have photos throughout our house of him or of me holding him. There is an artist rendition on my wall. His actual foot and hand prints are hanging near family photos. There are tons of angels everywhere, even an angel “christmas tree” I have up all the time. On our front porch I have a couple of angels as well. I never kept his existence a secret from my children and I’ve been very open about his life and my grief, even writing a book about my experience in an effort to help others (the kindle version is FREE to download until March 3rd, in honor of his heavenly birthday).
This year I was able to go to Arizona to visit his grave and I took my youngest son Connor with me. We live in California now, so we don’t go to Arizona often anymore. The last time my 12 year son Connor went to the cemetery he was 2.5 years old, so he didn’t remember it. When we got there next to the stone, he started crying uncontrollably. We hugged it out. I do not often see Connor crying, not like this anyway, so part of me was surprised, moved, saddened, he made all of us cry, especially my aunts who came with us. It’s not often you see a 12 year old boy cry.
When we got to the car we hugged it out some more and he told me that even though he never met his big brother, at the cemetery he felt his presence. He said he got chills everywhere and the emotions overtook him.
I shed oceans of tears for Alex over the years but I have learned a long time ago not to dwell on it so much anymore. I still cry at times, but mostly I just remember him with love. The past cannot be changed, it can only be accepted. I now know he came to teach me a lesson of love and hope and I cherish his existence.
To all the mommies of angels out there… hang in there. You are loved.
Love & Light,
