More on Connor and Colby!

Sunday, March 14, 2010


I like to comment-jump from blog to blog. I start with a blog I read regularly, comment on the recent post, and then click over to a new blog from another commenter. I do this and bop around to blogs that I've never come across before. Sometimes I find blogs that really intrigue me and other times I just keep on jumping.

Lately I've been jumping around blogs of other baby loss mommas looking for comfort. It breaks my heart that there are so many mommy's missing their babies. I've started commenting on some of the newer blogs- many of which are blogs dedicated to the loss of both twins.

One such blog I found is in memory of Jill's twins Emma and Chase. Emma and Chase were born just under a month after Connor and Colby. Unfortunately Jill lost both her babies shortly after birth. Last night while reading I posted a comment relating the loss of her precious twins to the loss of Connor, but my words echoed in my head last night and again this morning. I eventually deleted the comment.

Because I felt like a fraud.

Here I was, commenting on a blog of a mommy heartbroken over the loss of, not one baby, but two.

I don't know the pain.

I know some of the pain. But, really, I don't know the pain of losing two babies. I don't know the pain of having all my dreams ripped away. Every day I count myself lucky that I had two days with Connor. I got to take Colby home. I didn't leave the hospital empty handed. I have a baby sleeping in his room upstairs. I have a baby to feed in the middle of the night and I have a baby to greet me with a gummy smile in the morning. Yes, I have felt pain, but I am so lucky.

When we were trying to get pregnant I had people who would make the "Oh, don't worry, we had a hard time too- it took us 5 months!" comments and while in the NICU we had the people who would console me with "My baby was born at 36 weeks!" Those comments didn't help. They didn't comfort. They caused me pain.

And it was only with my comment to Emma and Chase's mom that I realized that, even though my pain, I could be causing pain. And I don't want to do that.

I am one of the lucky ones.

Yes, I've seen pain. I've felt pain. I've cried. I've lost. And I miss Connor with more intensity every day. There is a hole in my heart that won't ever go away.

But I am still functioning. I still have a reason to function. I get days with Colby. And having Colby helps me remember that life can go on and in his own way he even helps me to remember his brother. And my heart just breaks for those who haven't been as lucky.

My point isn't to pretend that losing Connor was no big deal, that I have no reason to hurt, that I have moved on. Instead, I am thankful for what I have- I've found some peace. The peace is fleeting at times, but I know that I can function for Colby. I have a reason for moving forward. And I only hope that everyone can feel the same way.


  1. I feel the same way sometimes. I know I spent a long time reading and commenting on blogs before I started my own because I felt like a fraud.

    I don't know what it is like to lose both twins, to lose a baby at term, to lose triplets, to lose your only child, to lose the only child you'll ever have, to lose three children, to lose your fifth child. I just don't know. I can only know what it felt like for me to lose one of my twins. Even though our circumstances are (relatively) similar, I don't know what it is like for you to grieve Connor. I freely acknowledge that.

    There are some blogs I read but never comment on, because I am worried that the existence of Jessica will cause people unnecessary pain. Because I'm lucky twice over, to have a baby at all, and also to have a surviving 23 weeker in pretty good health.

    I'm sure some people might read my blog and find me hideously ungrateful or want to tell me to stick my comments where the sun don't shine. I don't know.

    But I find that blog world is the only place where I don't have to spend time hiding one of my children away. The baby loss community is far more accepting of Jessica's life than the real world is of Georgina's death and I've found so much compassion and understanding here. More than I imagined initially. I don't think anyone has ever lashed out at me for having a surviving child although the temptation must have been there on occasion.

    I've had the 36 weeker comments too but sometimes I just feel that, hey, here is another mama who didn't quite get what she bargained for, it didn't all go perfectly and I know that one day in the NICU can be as shocking and heartbreaking as the months that we spent there. Just they've got nothing to compare it to?

    Geesh write my on own blog why don't I? Sorry, I found this post really thought provoking and your words hit a lot of nerves with me. xo

  2. Oh Stace, I noticed that you deleted your comment and I was going to ask you why. I was hoping I did not offend you in any way. I am so happy that you stopped over and visited. I am happy you got to learn a little about Emma and Chase and that you were so thoughtful to comment and reach out to me.

    I understand what you are saying. Please know that I have been touched by you visiting my blog and by reading more about Connor. I find that this blog world is the only place I can truly be myself and express my emotions without being judged. I do not know where I would be without all of you telling me I am not alone, sharing with me, commenting, and just being there.

    So with that being said, thank you for visiting and commenting. Please do not beat yourself up over anything. I am so sorry for your loss of Connor and so happy that you have Colby in your arms.


  3. hon, you arent a fraud. our grief isnt dependent on the number of babies we've lost...

  4. What a kind, compassionate and considerate heart you have. I'm sure no one would misconstrue your sympathy for lack of gratitude, but that your heart worries so deeply about others is just very, very kind.
    I hop the comments of blogs too. Hence, ended up here! So sorry about your little Connor. He was gorgeous.