Day 15

August 1, 2016

Dearest Isaac,

Grief is a funny beast.  One second I feel like I see a path forward or I pause and I think I can enjoy things, the next I fall totally to pieces.  I miss you, I obsess over you and I feel like my heart and soul have been torn out.  Being back in Pennsylvania feels like torture.  Your Daddy continues to be a champion, my hero and my rock.  I know how lucky I am to have him.  He keeps reminding me that we are a family.  It just feels so broken right now.  I have told you before, but i will tell you again – I will someday fill this journal with happy stories.  I will tell you about your Daddy, your grandparents, your aunts, and uncles.  I’ll tell you about fun things we do.  Someday, I’ll tell you about your little brothers or sisters.  For now, I will vent.  I keep feeling guilty about it, but I’ve promised to always be honest with you.  To be honest, things are still too raw to write letters with any joy.

We took Mowgli to get some much-needed grooming today.  We dropped him off and went to the grocery store.  Your mommy stinks at grocery shopping.  We did get some good frozen ingredients.  We bought a freezer to fill with meals in preparation for your arrival.  I had always wanted an extra freezer.  I said I would fill it with meals for rainy days.  I do wish I had filled it sooner.  The days sure feel rainy right now.  I will fill it eventually.

After the store, we picked up Mowgli.  He is fluffy and adorable.  As I write this, he is rolling around in our bed like a big goober.

We received some news about you today.  You were a beautiful, perfectly normal baby.  In my sadness and anxiety, I had convinced myself that something was wrong with you – that perhaps I thought you were perfect just because you were my son.  I can see how someone might get blinded by love.  The doctors, however, agreed that you were perfectly normal.  There were not infections, not a hair out of place on your adorable head.  In part, I am relieved.  Yet the guilt – however unfounded – is overwhelming.  But for my body’s failure, you would have been okay.  I’ve never wanted to change something so badly in all my life.  In fact, I can’t remember wanting something so badly in life that I could not obtain with some amount of effort.  Maybe with things I wanted previously I did not put in the effort, but I always could have.  Losing Bup Bup was similar, but despite how much I loved him, it is nothing compared to this.  There is nothing I can do to bring you back.

I hope, at least, that I can be a person, a mother, you would be proud of.

I love you,

Mommy

Day 14

July 31, 2016

Dearest Isaac,

Today we went home.  Every second of it felt wrong.  I know you are with me and Daddy always, but it still felt like saying goodbye.  Bringing you home in a tiny box, containing an even tinier red velvet bag, felt so wrong.  Traffic was brutal, I cried until I was sick, and both Mowgli and Cali ended up sick.  Daddy held you in his lap the whole ride home.  It’s not a  ride in a car seat back from the hospital, but it is the best we will ever have.

This house feels like a prison of memories.  Seeing the nursery returned to a guestroom brought me to my knees.  Thank goodness your Daddy was there to catch me.  I found the package of positive pregnancy tests I had saved.  The so comforted me once, proving that you really existed.  I couldn’t believe we could be so lucky and so I proved it to myself every single morning.  I’ll never part with them – my concrete proof that this wasn’t just a terrible dream.

Daddy keeps trying to comfort me, saying there will be another baby.  While I so want a baby, there will never be another Isaac Immel.

Unfortunately, I’ve become a bit obsessed over what happened to you.  I know my body failed you, but I can’t help wondering if there was something else we missed.  Maybe your toes, while perfect to me, might not have been normal?  For all I know you were genetically perfect – I mean you were perfect and we love every millimeter of you.  I just want to know why I am not laying here cuddling you.  What did we miss?  Could we have prevented it?

The doctor in New Hampshire said we would have results in a few months.  I need answers now.  The wondering is eating me alive.

Mommy’s are supposed to be strong and I promise I am trying.  I will be better for you.  I just need more time.

Your Grandpa almost finished your signed for me today.  He sanded it down and hammered on a gorgeous copper border.  It still needs varnish, but it came out better than I imagined.  I am certainly going to make one for home.  We also got a letter from Grandpa’s friends.  They’re going to get us a pin oak for home too.  I can’t wait.  We want to have a physical place to feel close to you.  We will put a bench under it and it will be lovely.  This isn’t how it was supposed to be, but we will try to make the best of it.

Love you,

Mommy

Day 14

July 30, 2016

Dearest Isaac,

Happy two-week birthday-versary.  It seems today was our last day in New Hampshire.  I say “it seems” because I won’t believe it until Daddy has managed to drag me out of here kicking and screaming.  I know we have our physical pieces of you, but I can’t help but feel like I am leaving you behind.  We brought you here a bouncing baby in my belly, who we absolutely could not wait to meet.  We leave with a tiny (impossibly tiny) bag, broken hearts, and lonely belly.  This is the last place we were together as a family, the last place I felt you rolling around inside me.  This is the place where we lost you, the place I had to live on without you, the place I labored, and the place I delivered you with Daddy firmly by my side.  The is the place where we held you, cried for you and played “Crazy Love”, our first wedding dance song, while cherishing our final moments with you.  This is the place your Daddy worked so hard to help me heal physically and emotionally.  This is the place where I realized how strongly I could love (both you and Daddy).  This just feels like our place and I don’t want to leave it.

Home will be empty without you and lonely without my parents.  Home means life is one step closer to a new normal that I so desperately want to avoid.  Home means seeing your nursery returned to an unassuming guest room.  Home means pretending all of this didn’t happen if I want to function.  I love home – I do.  But it feels like I am leaving part of my soul in New Hampshire.

I hope you will follow me home.  Everyone says that you will, but I struggle to believe that you won’t feel a bit more distant.

On a different note, I finally carved your sign with your Grandpa’s help.  We didn’t have some of the finishing tools, so your Grandpa is going to sand, varnish and frame it for us.  It should come as no shock that your Daddy picked red paint for the lettering.

Speare Memorial Hospital is naming our room there after you.  Hopefully, we can return Columbus Day to see it.  Your Grandpa gave a beautiful toast during our chili dinner tonight.  There were a number of tears shed.  There were no jokes, just kind complimenting words.  He told us we were parents now because of you and that nothing can change that.  It is so very true.  I am so proud and honored to be your mommy, no matter the pain.

I love you so dearly,

Mommy

Day 13

July 29, 2016

Dearest Isaac,

Two weeks ago today, at the very moment, I was severely in labor with you.  You were about to tear into our lives less than two hours from now.  It really seems like just yesterday that you changed out lives forever.  Today was a big day.  I wrote to our lovely fertility doctor about developing a path to a baby sibling for you.  She may have thought I was crazy, but the idea of a plan keeps us sane.

Mommy and Daddy went into Meredith with your Grandma and Lisa today to check out some shops.  We shopped for a few hours and only ended up with a bit of candy.  We also went to Lakeside View for a burger, sandwich and Mommy’s first postpartum beer.  We even got Ben & Jerry’s ice cream cones after.  For a brief moment, it was like being a little kid again.

On the way home we stopped at Squam Marketplace and got your cousin, Harlan, a stuffed animal Moose that matches the one we have for you.  Neither of you will understand, but it will be nice to have that connection.  Mommy and Daddy will hold onto yours for you and smile when we cuddle it.

Your great uncle, his girlfriend and two of my cousins arrived here in NH today.  I am ashamed that I had a full blown panic attack upon their arrival.  Seeing new people who knew me so pregnant with you feels like a punch in the gut every time.  I know they love us and you, but that’s what kills me.  There was supposed to be a baby, a baby named Isaac, who was so loved already.  You were perfect but you are already gone.

Daddy rowed with your Grandpa again tonight.  He’s such an incredibly gifted natural athlete.  Let’s hope you would have had his good genes.  I think you would have loved watching fly across the cove.

I dreamt for the first time in a while last night.  I dreamt that you were very much still with us.  I was trying to make you smile for a picture.  I don’t remember the rest, but I woke with a start and quickly came to realize you weren’t here.  I had vaguely similar dreams before I was pregnant with you.  I always woke up supremely disappointed that I had not had a baby.   This was so much worse.  I got a tease of how beautiful our lives as a family could have been and woke to remember that it ended before it ever began.  I am so sorry I never got to make you smile.

I love you so much,

Mommy

Day 12

July 28, 2016

Dearest Isaac,

Today was extra emotional for Mommy.  Losing you still feels like some weird out-of-body experience that must have happened to someone else.  I just couldn’t work on my Isaac projects because I missed you too badly to focus.  It’s possible that yesterday was so busy that I didn’t let myself miss you enough.  When I woke up, it hit me like a ton of bricks.

I made a real effort for you.  I know you want me to try to be happy.  The garners brought and planted your tree today.  It’s about 15 feet tall and a Pin Oak.  Daddy, Mowgli and I watched them dig a great big hole to plant it.  It’s like the tree was meant to be here.  Pin Oaks grow fast and strong, just like you would have.  Some day, we’ll put a bench under its shade so we can read to you and feel close to you.  That’s all I can get, so I will take it.

Mommy and Daddy also went to meet your Grandma and Great Aunt Lisa at the League in Sandwich.  We got a really nice mug for Daddy that matches the one he has been using here.

We also went out to dinner for the first time.  We went to Squam Lake Inn.  It was a bit much for me still.  There were foods I couldn’t eat while pregnant with you.  I was trying to protect you (although it turns out I couldn’t after all). I also couldn’t have alcohol despite constantly craving a margarita. So tonight I decided to have some of the banned items.  I had tuna tartare and a margarita.  They were a huge let down.  I don’t want to be able to have them and they have therefore lost their appeal.  You see – I would rather have you in my belly.  I’d do anything.  I would even sacrifice my own life in a heartbeat to bring you back.

I know I have so much to be grateful for, but you are the most beautiful and innocent thing I ever was responsible for.  Daddy and I made you and we worked so hard to do so.  You were our miracle.

I never understood why people needed heaven until now.  Now, I get it.  You must be in some heaven.  I can’t understand a world where your spirit doesn’t live on.  We just love you too much.

Sweet dreams, Isaac.

Love Forever,

Mommy

Day 11

July 27, 2016

Dearest Isaac,

Today was a busy day.  Dadd and I went to my second blood pressure check.  My medicine is working and my blood pressure has finally returned to a normal level.  I also had to get some blood work.  I was so scared after the difficulty they had when I was having you.  The nurse was the one who had to get down on the floor to draw blood from my fingertips.  She could not believe how different I looked.  Retrospectively, my face was SO swollen.  The nurse told me her sister-in-law went through the same thing we’re going through with her first and went on to have three normal pregnancies.  Daddy and I would love to give you three healthy little brothers or sisters.  I promise to tell them all about their handsome big brother.

On the way to the doctor, we stopped and got a new dress for me at a totally out of place boutique in Ashland.  We are going out to dinner with my family and I no longer have any clothes that fit since I have lost at least 25 pounds since I had you.  We also stopped at two hardware stores to find the right sized Dremel bit for making signs.  I’m determined to make your signs perfect.  Your daddy found his favorite southern soda, big Red.  We even stopped for ice cream before heading to Speare.

When we finally got home, we found out that 23 people donated to Speare’s Labor & Delivery Department in your memory.  It’s amazing to see how much you affected people and also oddly relieving to know that your passing can help other families somehow.  If we can’t have you, at least we can help someone else.

I practiced writing your name with the Dremel and have moderately improved.  I didn’t have a ton of time because I took the 13 foot Whaler out while you Daddy practiced rowing in a single for the first time.  He looked great, he didn’t flip, and his smile melted my sad heart.  I bet you would have had a smile just like him.

Lisa made Shepherd’s Pie tonight.  It’s such an amazing comfort food and I really needed it after such a (comparatively) busy day.  As I finish with the day’s distractions and get tired, my mind wanders to “what-ifs” and anger, and fixates on losing you.  I’m supposed to be almost 34 weeks pregnant with you rolling around in my belly.  I’m supposed to be finishing your nursery.  Daddy and I are supposed to be waiting for you and looking forward to meeting you.  Instead, we are heartbroken and missing you.  An actual piece of me is gone.  I actually slapped myself earlier to make sure I wouldn’t wake up and realize this was all a terrible dream.  I’m trying to tell that I miss you, I love you, and that I would do ANYTHING to have you back where you belong.

Love you to the moon and back,

Mommy

Day 10

July 26, 2016

Dearest Isaac,

I cannot believe you were born 10 days ago.  It simultaneously feels like a lifetime ago and the blink of an eye.  I’ve already told you how I wish time would stop.  Part of me is just scared that people will forget about how important you are or that they will fail to understand that it still hurts so badly.  Your Daddy and I will never forget you and will never forget how important you are to us.  You made us parents and you are our son.

I left the house today by choice (not for a doctor).  Daddy and I went to the Squam Marketplace in Holderness.  I was trying to be strong for you and I did alright at first.   I picked some wine and browsed a bit while Daddy ordered our sandwiches.  I had forgotten that the store sold onesies that matched our T-shirts (yes – we accidentally wore matching T-shirts from where we got lunch).  I avoided that section but got upset when I remembered.  Then I realized there were little boys all over the shop and got too upset to stay.  Jealousy is not cute, but I was sad and angry that we would never get to be those families.  Your daddy comforted me (as always) and took me home.

I did my best to keep busy.  I learned two more of the stitches I need for our rainbow embroidery.  French knots are SO hard for me, but I will keep practicing.  I also started practicing with the Dremel!  My first “I” was pretty rough.  Things seemed to improve when I tried cursive.  I wish I had better handwriting.  I will probably make at least twenty signs before I start to think they are good enough.  I had been feeling this sense of urgency on these projects, but am realizing it is better to really practice and make them as nice as you deserve.

I just hope wherever you are you can feel how much I love and miss you – your Daddy too.  Goodnight, sweet baby.

Love you the most,

Mommy

P.S. Daddy and I looked at the stars for a bit tonight.  We know you’re out there.