Starflakes and Snow Angels

William was our winter baby. We were going to bundle him up and brave our first winter together. I can just imagine his sweet rosy cheeks popping out of his winter hat as we ran errands or went to auntie’s house. 

Although William is not with us anymore, we feel his presence all the time, sometimes a bit stronger than others. One of those times happened during the first snowstorm since his death. Sparkly, white, snowflakes fell down to the earth in the shape of beautiful stars. We can’t help to believe that our little star sent those starflakes to let us know he was ok. 

Thank you, little one. 

We feel all your love, all the time. 

XOXO, mommy & daddy & your whole family :)

Liz's snow angel and William's starflakes

Artwork for William

William's big cousin, Madeleine is an amazing artist. She has a such a good heart and loves giving us her drawings and paintings to make us feel better. Her artwork has been displayed in our house and in our hospital room. It makes us feel happy to see her drawings every day. We'd love to share Madeleine's artwork with you. Terrific job, Maddie.

 William's Star

Maddie holding William in the snow

Two Williams in a heart

Unfair

They say life is unfair - for Tom and I, we understand this more than we ever wanted to.

It’s so unfair it hurts. For weeks after William died Tom literally had heart ache (chest pain) a physical sign of his broken heart.

We miss being those people who think “it will never happen to us”.

But it did. And we are reeling.

So we take a deep breath and look at our baby's photographs, his cute smirk, chubby cheeks, and tiny little feet, and we smile again. We are living a life where we hold William in our hearts instead of our arms and we aren’t sure we are ready to accept that yet.

Another gift that baby William gave us: the strength to make it through challenging situations. The “Will” to honor his memory by showing off the strength he gave us that day. The “Will” to be better. The “Will” to be patient, to heal, to be happy because that’s what William would want.

We've started making a list of ways to honor William. Sharing his story is one of them.

We are also planning a memorial service. We want it to be beautiful and filled with joy, a celebration of our sweet William’s life. The date should soon be finalized.

Xoxo,
Liz and Tom

1 month in heaven

I would have been 36 weeks today. My due date was February 9th, 2015. Yesterday marked William’s 1st month in heaven.

We think of him every day. But some days more than others. There will be lots of days like that this year: our due date, the holidays, mother’s day, father’s day... There is also a day in October, the national infant loss day. I've come to learn about this day as I browse baby loss websites on the internet. I’d like to share what I've found with you.

Infant Loss

There are many (millions in fact) of little ones that die each year in the US alone. From losses early in pregnancy to later term loss to infant loss, it doesn't matter which you have suffered through, because all life, no matter how tiny, is important and special to someone.

• Early pregnancy loss or miscarriage is when a baby dies before it could survive on its own. Shockingly 1 in 4 pregnancies result in a miscarriage.
• Late term loss sometimes referred to as a stillbirth, is when a baby dies in the womb after a certain point of gestation, usually after 20 weeks gestation. There are ~26,000 stillbirths in the US per year.
• Neonatal loss is when a baby dies within the first days of life, like our William. There are ~19,000 neonatal losses per year.

We spent 5 days in the hospital after William was born. He was delivered via c-section to give him the best chance possible, plus he was breech with his cute little bum down. In those 5 days we felt so many emotions, one of which was loneliness. But not because we were alone, because we were new parents of a baby who died the day he was born, and we felt like we were the only ones.

Then a woman visited our room. She wanted to help us fill out some of William’s forms. She gave her condolences and surprisingly said “I know exactly how you feel”. Really? Then she told us that she lost her twin baby girls just a few months ago. She was 8 months pregnant at the time. I remember thinking how strong she was to go back to work, in a hospital where she may have lost her girls, to tell us about her loss.

Since then we have received sympathy letters from a family/friends who have also shared the death of their babies late in pregnancy. We were so thankful for those brave women and families who have reached out.

We've learned that there are many people out there who know exactly how we feel. And there is a powerful comfort that comes with sharing during times of grief. Even though we feel awful hearing about other's losses, it brings us comfort knowing we are not alone.

The gifts that William has given us are adding up. Love and compassion to those who have lost babies is just one of them.

Happy 1 month in heaven baby bear, we know you have lots of baby friends up there,

XOXO

Mommy and Daddy

Hanging in there with your support

Dear family and friends,

We are just now ready to start receiving visitors other than our immediate family. We understand that acknowledgement of William’s short life may be upsetting to you but it can be very comforting to us. You may think the less said, the better. Until now, we did not know how important it would be for us to tell you of our little William, even though he died. You can help us get through this by letting us talk about our sorrow when we feel the need, allowing us to cry when we want, and not pretending that everything’s ok... when it’s not. It will take time, but with your support we will make it.

We love hearing from you in the comments! Please also feel free to send us texts or emails rather than calling us. We find phone calls to be overwhelming right now. We've appreciated your prayers, meals prepared for us during the week, and the gifts you have sent. We will cherish the gifts forever, some are displayed around our house, others have been placed in William’s memory box. A very special bracelet has been worn around my wrist since the day I received it. We love to receive cards so please keep them coming. We love hearing from you and so does William. Thank you. We are grateful for your support, and will need it for years to come.

XOXO
Liz and Tom

Our own epiphany

Today’s the last day of Christmas, the Epiphany. For some reason I don’t want to take down the tree. Sometimes I want the winter to be over because that means maybe some of my heartbreak may be lifted. But today I don’t want the season to end. I want to savor this time when we are still so close to our baby’s birthday and “heaven” day.

I remember that morning, our doctor coming in and sitting down on a stool and saying "we're going to delivery you today." I remember how I felt when she left the room. Tom and I stared at each other and smiled. We were giddy and excited and nervous. "We are going to meet our little baby boy today" and we did. And he took our breath away. Our own epiphany. Something so incredibly amazing that we were changed forever.

Maybe we will leave the tree up for another week. The lights and stars remind us of our little William. Underneath the tree are some presents for William, stuffed bears, books, and blankets from family and friends. They make us smile even when our eyes are swollen from tears. We want to keep them and we just know William would want us to save them for his little brother or sister one day.

We may be navigating through the intricacies of grief for a long time, but it makes it easier to receive the gifts that have come our way. Thank-you for the comments, the cards, the fruit baskets, the flowers, the food, the dinners, the hugs, the pats on the back, the listening, and the love.

Sometimes we think "how will we ever get through this?" and then day by day we do. Your comments help.

XO, Liz and Tom

2014, the year of William

As the new year is upon us, we have been reflecting on the past year. We consider 2014 to be the best year of our lives. It was the year of our William. We have so many memories of our baby growing in my belly, talking to him, laughing with him, dancing, swimming, singing, traveling, and reading to him. William was a playful baby and made our pregnancy very special. He kicked and wiggled around in my belly every day. He kicked the most while we were watching football on TV or when Tommy would read nightly stories. He loved the sound of his Daddy’s voice and we laughed each time he kicked us. He loved sweets too, just like me. When we sang to him, he kicked us back as if saying “don’t stop!”. One time Auntie whispered hello to William, her face right up close to my belly, and he kicked her in the nose! During ultrasounds he was a bit shy and often had his arms up by blocking our view but we still managed to see his darling face. William liked the quiet comfort of home, he gave the most kicks during our peaceful times alone in the house. When we were around people and it got noisy he did not kick as much, maybe he was a bit introverted just like Daddy! William was born a fan of the Red Sox, the Redskins, and the Patriots. His favorite book was Alice in Wonderland. William loved music. His favorites included songs by Rockabye Baby, The Piano Guys, and Disney. We listened to music every morning together and sometimes throughout the day. William liked driving in the car, maybe he enjoyed the bumps and potholes of Boston because I felt him moving around often while we drove back and forth from the hospital. We sang to him in the car. We sang “Twinkle Twinkle”, “This Little Light of Mine”, and “In the Jungle” making up our own lyrics are we sang on and on. Madeleine and Noah would also sing and talk to him when they came to visit, we could tell William loved his cousins so much. He was an active baby in the womb and we love remembering him in that way. William’s whole life existed in 2014. He was our strong little warrior but he was also so very charming and won our hearts over the instant he was born. When we close our eyes we can see his cute little face and can imagine him in our arms. We could tell he loved to be cuddled. We prayed for a miracle but maybe the miracle was the time we were able to spend with William. We are and will forever be in awe of our little star, our light, our baby. It was hard to let 2014 go but we are looking toward the future now, knowing that the imprint William had on us and our family will last forever. Here’s to a new year full of healing and joy! -Liz and Tom

 “There is no foot too small that it cannot leave an imprint on this world.”