Tag Archives: death

A life’s legacy

Wow, so I guess a lot can happen in just a few short days. Hubby’s grandfather died one week ago today, and it still seems like just yesterday we got the news that he was hospitalized. He went in peace though. He’s finally with the woman that he loved for over 50 years….50 years, can you imagine 50 years?!?! In today’s society where more than half of all marriages end in divorce, this man remained faithful, dedicated and in love with one woman…I can only hope that hubby and I are the same.

I know we will though. Dh’s “abuelito” taught him how to be a man. He taught him how to love a woman, how to play a great game of soccer, and how to remain constant regardless of the curve balls life seems to throw at you. I too learned so much from this man, and have never really understood what it feels like to lose someone of such importance and love. Yes, we lost our baby, and I’ll never forget that day..but losing a man who had done so much for so many, and literally watching his life slip away makes a person analyze what life really means.

Does it mean having the best of everything? Does it mean leaving a huge inheritance behind, or having a title worthy career? Yes, we’ve all heard this before, and to many it probably sounds very cliche. But it only hit home when I had to say good bye to a man that I just realized meant so much to me and our family. It was in that moment that I realized what a good life means.

It means being thankful for the air in your lungs. It means loving the man you promised to love for all eternity the best way that you can. It means making people (not just family and friends) feel loved. Giving more than taking. It means loving what I have and not cursing what I don’t. It means accepting the fate that you have been giving and learning how to make do.

I know that I can’t say that I won’t wish I could have had our own child. And that I won’t curse the fact that I can’t, but I can say that losing him has made me open my eyes to other possibilities. DH and I have begun to talk about taking another path. We just found out that while only a US citizen here, he has duel citizenship in Mexico where he was born. So, in an effort to create a family, and still seem connected to DH’s “home,” we’ve started to talk about Mexican adoption. I never thought I would ever utter those words, and I thought that if I did, it would be with a heavy heart. But by learning from “abuelito,” life is what you make of it, not how life is made.


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Little Angels

Today is the day of the baby’s funeral, and I can’t help but feel sad. But not just sad in the fact that the baby is gone, but sad for his parents who will always miss him during every holiday, birthday, due date, and in passing. I can’t say that I know what it’s like to know what it feels like to miss a baby that was farther along into pregnancy, but I do know what it feels like to be a mother who has lost her baby, and I don’t wish that on my worst enemies.

We’ll say good bye to him one last time and lay him to rest, but I can’t say that his mother or father ever will rest until they see him again. I know that I won’t rest until the day that I get to hold my sweet angel again, and I can only hope that we are blessed with such a miracle once more.


I just came from the funeral and I must say, I handled it much better than I thought I would. As we sat in front of his tiny casket topped with flowers, I realized how precious that baby was to so many people. It got me to think just how precious life is, and as I looked at all of their family and friends sitting silently in front of him, I wished he knew just how many people loved him. His family handed out prayer cards, and I as I read the back of the special card, my heart began to ache. It ached for this sweet baby’s family and mom and dad, and for all of the little angels whose lives were taken too soon. May this have meaning to all of those families that have lost a child. My thoughts and prayers are forever with you.

Little Angels

When God calls little children to dwell with Him above, we mortals sometimes question the wisdom of His love. Perhaps God tires of calling the aged to His fold, so He picks a rosebud before it can grow old. God knows how much we need them and so He takes but a few to make the land of Heaven more beautiful to view, believing this is difficult, still somehow we must try. The saddest word mankind knows will always be “Goodbye.” So when a little child departs, we who are left behind must realize God loves children. Angels are hard to find.

I know they are going to try again and I truly wish them the best of luck. I can only hope that their lives will move on and be happy again.


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A purpose for those who have lost their way.

I’ve been MIA for a few days, and to tell you the truth I think I’ve been MIA in the real world too. I haven’t felt like doing much of anything lately and my heart is broken. Does anyone ever feel like sometimes God hears us in the most dreadful of ways.

Let me rewind. Back in February my fertile friend told us they were pregnant just after two months of trying. Horrible of me to say, but I was devastated. I thought for sure that we were the next in line. But we weren’t. I have to admit, I was angry, sad and yes, jealous. I prayed a lot about it. I asked Him to forgive me for my jealousy, and anger. But I also prayed that He would take care of her and her little one. I asked Him why it wasn’t me. Had I done something wrong to not deserve to be in her shoes? I found myself thinking back as far as I can remember and apologizing for every single bad thought or action that I had done over the course of my life and pleading with Him to give us our baby. I was happy for her, but I just couldn’t feel the excitement that I knew she felt. I know, I’m a horrible, awful, wretched person. But over the months I became more and more happy for her. I knew that come November I  would be able to be a part of a child’s life. If not my own, then someone that I care very much for.

On Saturday I had asked her to call me on Monday just to let me know how her OB appt. went. Monday evening she did as I asked, but only to tell me that she had lost the baby. My world stopped. How could something like this happen? She was 22 weeks and although had not gained much weight, she was still healthy and so was the pregnancy.

Phone calls spread like wild fire.  We all jumped at the opportunity to be there for her, and we all were. When I walked into the L&D ward, I couldn’t imagine that I would be here for this. A fleeting moment passed where I found myself praying for her, the baby and me and DH. “Please Lord, take care of them. And please give me the chance to walk through these doors as a patient and not a visitor.” Selfish I’m sure.

As we all entered her room and offered hugs and condolences, I noticed the shock in her face. She had been crying, but seemed to be over that part, and now just trying to sort everything out. Her DH. while not visibly crying, had the most lost look on a person I had ever seen. We stayed with her as long as we could. They brought her the pills to begin labor and as we left I found myself bargaining with God again.

Tuesday evening had come at a pain staking slow pace. We went to visit her after watching her girls and within minutes she had delivered. A boy. What they had been praying for all along, though they didn’t know for sure until he was born. He was tiny. Only about 8” long and maybe a pound. I didn’t expect them to share their experience withall of us, but they did. We went into her room, and wrapped in a tiny blue blanket with a white knit hat on his head there he was. There was the root of all our excitement and happiness.

Nothing could have prepared me for what we were about to experience. She had asked if we all wanted to hold him. I politely declined because I was afraid. Then the priest came, baptized him and asked for that little baby  to be with his mother in spirit for the rest of her life. I lost it. I began to think about my own angel, and asked for my sweet baby to be with me. In that moment, I knew that I had to hold him. He was her baby, and it was important for all of us to recognize that regardless of how graphic it was. She asked for my DH to hold him too. “Do you want to hold my baby?” Those words have been forever ingrained in my head. I put my fears aside, and held him. I looked at him with some fear, but knew that I could not look at him for what he looked like, but for what he was supposed to be, and for what he meant to all of us, especially his mom and dad.  My DH held him and as I watched him swallow his tears, I could see every one of his fears. Fears for them, and for us.

It was just a matter of hours that we had been at the same hospital for our 4th IUI. An IUI that we have been so optimistic about. Now, although trying to stay optimistic, our fears are now more real than ever. In this moment, as if it were a ton of bricks that hit me I realized that no matter how many shots, follies, tests, sperm cups, dildo cams and “bargains” made with God, life is not something that any of us can control. I needed to let go of my control of this. This sweet tiny baby boy, who laid lifeless in all of our hands, was just another reminder for all of us just how powerful fate, karma, God, science, whatever you believe in, is.

While everyone around me wept, my tears stopped. I had found myself realizing that bargains aren’t prayers, and that I have to accept His will for whatever it is. I know now, that I don’t have all the answers to life, and I never will. Some things, while as random as they may seem, are planned with great precision. I don’t have a reason for why this baby never made it to this world, and I sympathize for the world who has missed out on this baby and the great things he would have accomplished. But in the few hours that we got to spend with him, he made one of the biggest impacts in my life, and everyone elses’ that was there with him. The priest told his mother that he and all of the lost children are in God’s hands. I have to believe that. I have to believe that God’s purpose, while it may seem cruel, was the right thing to do. Just as I have to believe, that my infertility, and loss while painful, has a higher purpose.

Many of us have lost our angels, and I like to think that maybe they are all in this same garden some where just waiting for the right time to return to their parents. Some will wait until their mother and father come for them in heaven, while others will return to live with them here. Therefore, it gives me great comfort to know that both my friend and I will once again have our babies, whether on Earth, or in our own gardens in heaven. I can only hope though that we are both lucky enough to have them here with us.


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