Tuesday, March 25, 2014

Saying Goodbye

I don't know how to say goodbye. 

I keep searching for something, anything, that might give me a clue about how to do this (preferably step-by-step directions) but unfortunately it's not as simple as that.  It's a process. A process that will likely take a very very long time and can't be squeezed into a handful of days.  I've felt like I needed to get myself to a point where I can accept all of this and be "okay" by Thursday (whatever "okay" is) but I'm learning that that is unrealistic. I'm starting to let that go now and let myself off the hook from all this searching searching searching for some intangible state of mind.

A few days ago I didn't know how I'd make it through these last couple days before the procedure starts with the pre-op tomorrow and now I find myself wishing I had more time. I do certain things and am not sure if they're helping me or hurting me: I sing to Petey; I picture the very last moments I'll be with him/her on Thursday, saying goodbye as my eyes close from the anesthesia; I scour the internet for other women's stories of loss and I cry as I feel their pain as well; I stand naked in the bathroom mirror before showering and examine my pregnant body, tracing my stretch marks and letting the sadness and despair wash over me. But I also let myself feel the love and the pride that my body was able to provide a home for my baby too.
All of these things may be partial torture but I also feel like I may need to do them. Like I may need to confront these feelings as they come or else I'll bury them deep inside and never be able to get over this tragedy and live life again.

I think I'm making some progress because I am feeling slightly better each day.  I have tiny breakthroughs: Sunday was the first day both Hubs and I laughed out loud at something the dog did, yesterday I cooked a meal, today was the first day I didn't completely break down in the shower... it's little things that make me realize I am still capable and although this is heart-wrenching it will not break me.

The guilt is certainly present though. It's almost unbearable to think that this will be happening because we are making the choice for it to happen. I know we don't really have a choice since we will be losing Petey either way but it's still a hard pill to swallow since s/he was so wanted.  We made this decision out of love and I just try to focus on that. On Thursday, once the anesthesia puts me under, the doctor will be administering a shot through my belly into my uterus that will slow Petey's heart until it stops. The procedure will not start until that happens so the only thing our baby will ever know is the warm quiet cozy home its mother's body provided for it. I don't actually know if I am considered a mother since I will not be giving birth but if what we're doing and how we feel right now isn't indicative of a mother's love then I don't know what is.

I've been trying to find things to comfort me and have been soothed recently by a verse from a beautiful song that entered my mind the other day and hasn't left:

A Little Fall of Rain (from Les Miserables)

Don't you fret, M'sieur Marius
I don't feel any pain
A little fall of rain
Can hardly hurt me now
You're here, that's all I need to know
And you will keep me safe
And you will keep me close
And rain will make the flowers grow.

While those lyrics run through my brain it comforts me to imagine them being sung to me from Petey's little soul. I am so thankful that our baby won't feel any pain. I hope it can feel love from me, knows I'm here, and feels safe and warm in my womb. I change the words around and sing it to Petey too hoping to comfort him/her. I think this will always be "our" special song.

Another comforting thought came from my mother in law:  She sadly lost a close friend to cancer just last week. Her friend was a nurse and my MIL said that she likes to think that the reason her friend went first is so that she can be there waiting to receive our little Petey Nugget, her grandchild, with open arms and that she'll take care of him/her until we can be reunited.  I can't think about that without crying but it is also a soothing thought and will be on my mind Thursday when I wake up empty after the procedure.

Thursday morning at 7:30 am when I am laying on the doctor's table experiencing those last precious moments with my Petey Nugget, I am going to feel the necklace at my throat and think about everyone who loves us. I'm going to think about how much I love my baby and I hope the last thing s/he hears is me saying "goodbye" and "I love you". That's how I want my child's life to end. I don't want to feel fear or anxiety, I want to be filled with love - love for him/her and love from those in our lives.

I felt compelled to take one more bump pic today so I can always remember.  I don't want to pretend Petey didn't exist.  Though my baby will never live outside my body s/he did exist.  My baby was here and existed and mattered.

And it was loved.


  1. :'( You ARE a mother, and your decision is out of the incredible love you have for Petey Nugget. Chickin, my heart hurts so much for you, Shaun & Petey. I'm sending all of my love <3

  2. You are so right. Your baby matters. Your baby exists. You don't even have to speak in the past tense if you want. I speak in the present tense about my boys. Your baby is beautiful, your baby is making an impact, your baby will be remembered.

  3. ::tears streaming:: You are most definitely a mother. A mother is someone who loves and cares for their baby more than anything else -- which we can all see describes you perfectly. The love and warmth and devotion you have for little Petey is breathtaking. You are such a strong, amazing woman. Your Petey existed! Your Petey matters! And your Petey will always be remembered and loved. I have been thinking of you and your husband and sweet little Petey so much lately and am sending you so many comforting thoughts for you all. <3 <3 <3

  4. My heart is breaking for you. Your words are beautiful and absolutely true. Your baby does matter, and is loved and will never be forgotten. You will never forget your little Petey, he or she will always be your baby. My love and thoughts are with you, Chickin.

  5. Oh sweetie you are so, most definitely a mother and Petey Is so obviously immeasurably loved by you and your husband. My heart aches for you all and the decision you've had to make but it is so obviously out of love. I'll carry you all in my heart tomorrow and am sending you and Shaun love and strength. <3 <3 <3

  6. I am so glad that you keep posting your experience because I have been thinking about you guys a lot, praying your are able to get through.

    You are a mother - from the second you knew you were expecting you loved and cared for your little one - that makes you a mother.

  7. You are in my thoughts and prayers today, and have been every day. Wishing you strength and hope and love.

  8. Hugs and prayers to you and your family..as always but especially today...extra on ots way

  9. You are a WONDERFUL Mother. And I'm sure little Petey loves you and Shaun so very much. There are very few things that we control in life, You did not choose for this to happen to your family and you unfortunately could not change the end outcome, but your choice to allow Petey to pass in peace and comfort without suffering is the best choice that you could make for your LO because you made it with nothing but love for your sweet baby. Thinking of you today and every day and hoping that you and Shaun are able to find some peace and comfort even in the midst of everything you're going through. <3

  10. Hi ChickinNH - I am a random person from The Bump who started following your blog and I just wanted to send you my thoughts, prayers and internet-stranger-love - I cried when I read this entry. You are handling this with such grace and strength. I have been thinking of you all day and will continue to do so.

  11. You and Petey are so, so loved. Thinking of and praying for you today <3

  12. Oh Chickin, I am literally bawling for you right now. I don't think I've ever done that for someone I've never actually met before, but I just think that all along your journey you really have been in my heart - from your IF struggles, to your amazing pregnancy of little Petey & to now. I'm so incredibly sad that you are faced with this pain. My heart is with you so much right now, & the way you are expressing your grief is so heartbreaking & healing at the same time...I'm so glad you are writing it here, & processing with Petey & your husband so openly & not holding it in. I will gladly be an ear for you, & a "virtual" shoulder to cry on. I wish I could be of some comfort. Just know that you are loved. And you are most certainly an amazing mother. When you said you were looking for things that were of comfort, it reminded me of the song "See You Again" by Carrie Underwood, here is the link:
    You have all my love...I wish I could hug you in real life, but just know I'm thinking of you.

  13. Yes, Petey was here, he existed and mattered. Beautifully felt and said. Wishing you all the best...

  14. Visiting from 2014 Creme de la Creme. Your post caught my attention as my husband's nickname for me is 'little chicken'. Wiping away tears as I read of your loss, but so happy that I am able to catch up to the present and see that your rainbow baby is on the way. The song from Les Mis also struck me as we had to put my beloved cat to sleep this summer and that song was in my head when he was in my arms receiving his injection, especially the line "you would live one hundred years, if I could show you how..." I'm currently 16 weeks along, but refust to go public with the pregnancy until my Anatomy scan in a few weeks.

    1. Thank you so much for reading and commenting! I hope your A/S will be absolutely perfect!