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<p>I've known for the past month that she was dead and I thought I'd done most of my grieving already. I was really wrong. I had no idea that in the less than 48 hours that I had her tiny body I would get so attached to her. I kept her in the refrigerator in a metal box and had my husband bring her to me often to hold and look at her. Both days I took a nap with her in a tiny blanket on my chest tucked into my shirt. I held her in my hand and stared at her and touched her skin, trying to burn every detail into my brain. We cremated her yesterday on our anniversary. I had no idea it would be so hard to let her go. I held her as long as I could and swaddled her and placed her in the box only to break down and pull her back out to hold her and see her just one more time. With my last baby it was not this hard. He came out in his sac and I left it unbroken until right before we cremated him. I had been afraid that his body would break down if he was out of the water and I was afraid that he would look...... scary. When I finally broke the sac he was perfect inside it. I was in such shock I just took pictures and looked at him and held him for a minute and then went right out to cremate him. I never looked at him like "this is my baby", I just looked at him like he was something sad and interesting to look at. I did everything like a robot programmed to do certain things but with no feeling. A day or two after the cremation it started to bother me and I freaked out because I didn't act right with him. I made sure to do things differently this time, to give myself time to get over the shock. Now I feel so guilty that I did not give him the same treatment that I did with this baby. He deserved to be held to my chest too, he deserved for his mommy to look at him with love. I even squeezed out some breastmilk and put it on my daughter's lips; it just really bothered me with my last baby that he never got my milk.</p>
<p>I feel so empty and so broken. If I don't keep my mind busy I just lose it. I don't freak out or anything I just "go away" or something and it's hard to get back.</p>
<p>I drew this picture the day after we had it confirmed that Kadence had died: <a href="http://flickr.com/gp/[email protected]/21g0c1" target="_blank">http://flickr.com/gp/[email protected]/21g0c1</a> Everything but the last baby, the biggest one, her. I drew her the day that she was born. My arms are behind my back, tied up because there is nothing I can do. My legs are not there because I can't run away. I didn't even realize I was making three of everything until I'd already done the tears and the milk and started on the drops of blood. The first drop is my blighted ovum in dec 09, the second is Benjamin in May and the third is Kadence.</p>
<p>I tried to decorate her memory box today but nothing worked. I wrote and drew and erased and sanded over and over and over. All I could do was some simple vines and her initials. I covered Ben's box with flowers and scrollwork, carefully and elaborately covering it with beautiful things; I can't find any beauty in this. It's ugly and it hurts and I don't want to see flowers when I see her box, I just want her.<span><img alt="brokenheart.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/brokenheart.gif"></span></p>
 

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Oh mama, big hugs to you. Just wanted to offer the idea of spirit babies, either as new or as a reminder. It's basically the notion that a babies spirit will come back again, to you or another mama, until it reaches its fullest potential. Maybe your daughter's purpose was to get all the cuddles and stares for all of your babies... Maybe that need is met and now you and your spirit babies can be healed and moe forward to new life with new purposes... Just maybe... Love, patience, and forgiveness to you!
 

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<p><span><img alt="heartbeat.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/heartbeat.gif"> Thanks mama</span></p>
<p><span>I actually felt that my first loss and my second were the same baby, the same spirit. He actually went from me to my friend (found out she was pg a week after my m/c) and then back to me (she miscarried a few days after I found out I was pg again).</span> This baby felt different though. Her energy was so strong and separate from him. I took it to mean that the pregnancy was healthy this time but it was obviously not. I do hope that Benjamin somehow felt/feels my love. I wear some of his ashes in a wooden pendant around my neck; I sleep with it clutched in my hand.</p>
 

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<p><span>Nothing I can say, just....</span></p>
<p><span><img alt="hug.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/hug.gif" style="width:22px;height:15px;"></span></p>
 

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<p>Krista, I'm so sorry. I am certain that all of your babies sensed how much you loved and wanted them. <span><img alt="hug.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/hug.gif"></span></p>
 
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<p>There is no reason to feel guilt. We are humans and we learn through our experiences. Having your son and realizing there were things that you missed helped you to be able to do things differently with your daughter. Emeric was my 3rd loss but my first that I had the opportunity to hold. I did a few things differently than my first loss and that was very healing but if this were happen again there is more I want to do. (belly pics, pics of his hands and feet, foot and handprints, etc.) We learn as we go and there is no reason for guilt. I am so sorry that you are dealing with this pain and guilt on top of everything else. You are in my thoughts. Big hugs to you.</p>
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<p>Here is the story of sprit babies that I know. It was printed in mothering about 10 yrs ago:</p>
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<div class="quote-container"><span>Quote:</span>
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<p><span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:calibri;">Spirit Baby</span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:calibri;">Colin, my twelve-year-old son, discovered me late one rainy afternoon sitting at the kitchen table, a damp Kleenex crumpled in my left hand, wiping my eyes as I tried to compose myself for his sake. It was</span></span></p>
<p><span style="font-size:medium;"><span style="font-family:calibri;">the third week of January, two months after I’d miscarried a pregnancy, but I still found it impossible to get through a day without at least one meltdown into misery.<br><br>
Stunned w hen the test came back positive, Rog and I had stared at each other with doubt and ambivalence. At forty-one, my professional life consumed me. I’d just achieved what some had predicted was an impossibility: I’d been granted delivery privileges at Alta Bates, and as a consequence, my midwifery practice burgeoned. Some months I delivered twelve babies, and no one ever knew if or when I’d be home. Rog, too, felt stretched to his limits, keeping his business afloat while picking up the slack for my frequent unscheduled absences. Colin and Jill approached their challenging adolescent years. How could we fit an infant into our lives? But when I lost the pregnancy and all hope for resolution dissolved with my tears, I fell in love with the baby that was not to be.<br><br>
Colin asked, "Are you crying about the baby?" and when I nodded tearfully, he said, "Well, you just have to have another one, Mom, because it’s a Spirit Baby, and you should be its mother."<br><br>
I must have looked puzzled because he said, "Don’t you know about Spirit Babies? How could I know about them if you don’t? I mean, you’re my mom!" But he could see my perplexity.<br><br>
So my first child, this not-yet-teenaged boy, pulled a wooden chair to my side and draped his thin arm across my shoulders, saying, "Well, Mom, here’s how it is. See, I was one myself, so that must be how I know. Anyway, every woman has a circle of babies that goes around and around above her head, and those are all the possible babies she could have in her whole life. Every month, one of those babies is first in line. If she gets pregnant, then that’s the baby that’s born. If she doesn’t get pregnant, the baby goes back into the circle and keeps going around with all the others. If she gets pregnant but something bad happens before the baby’s born…now listen, Mom, because here’s the really cool part. It goes back into the circle, but it becomes a Spirit Baby, and all the other babies give it cuts. Each month, it’s always first in line. Isn’t that great?<br><br>
"So you just have to get pregnant again, and you’ll have the same Spirit Baby. If you don’t, though, then the baby circle will just beam that little Spirit Baby over to some other woman’s circle, and it’ll be first in line for her. It keeps being first in line somewhere until it finally gets born.<br><br>
"But it’d be a shame for you not to have it yourself, because I know how much you want it. So you just have to try again. Mom, remember that baby you lost before I was born?" I nodded wordlessly. "Well, that was me. Really. I’ve always known I was a Spirit Baby. I mean, I know what I’m talking about here, Mom."<br><br>
In spite of Colin’s certainty that our household, so often bordering on chaos, lacked only an infant to make things perfect, Rog and I demurred. But Colin didn’t give up and even enlisted his sister’s support. Driving with them in the car one evening, I looked at my son in the passenger seat beside me. He stared out the side window and tried to hide his tears, but I saw the flush on his face, the shaking of his shoulders, and the surreptitious swipe of hand across cheek.<br><br>
Six months had passed since my miscarriage, and I had just finished yet another discussion in which I’d told my pleading son that having a third baby at my age was out of the question. I reached over the space between us and squeezed his fingers. "Colin, I don’t understand this passion you have for a baby. Why do you want one so much?"<br><br>
He tore his gaze from the distant hills and looked at me with swimming eyes and trembling lips. In a choking voice, he put all of his twelve-year-old passion into his reply.<br><br>
"Oh, Mom! Oh. Just for the joy of it!"<br><br>
Jill stretched forward from the back seat and placed a hand on each of our shoulders. "Yeah, Mom, just for the joy of it."<br><br>
It was my turn to look out the side window and struggle with misty vision.<br>
So, at a time when most women eye the empty nest at the end of their branch on the family tree with something approaching relief, I gave consideration to laying just one more egg. Several months of discussions peppered with doubt and disbelief followed. Although Rog and I made the final decision, there’s no denying that a big part of our decision to have a third child began with the insistence of our adolescent children that we "needed a baby in the house." Rog and I took a deep breath, looked at each other across the blond heads of those two wishful children, swallowed – and made a giant leap of faith.<br><br>
I conceived my Spirit Baby a week later. Just for the joy of it.</span></span></p>
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<p>I'm so sorry for your losses.  Your babies were and are still very muched loved, they know this! </p>
 

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<p>Dear Krista, I am so sorry that in addition to the feeling surrounding your loss of baby Kadence you are also dealing with guilt about Benjamin. <img alt="candle.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/candle.gif"></p>
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<p>Grief is such a complicated thing. I have found that my mind tends to link any past losses that I did not fully grieve. It is simple to type that "you shouldn't feel guilt", but I cannot honestly say that to you.</p>
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<p>I had a big tattoo done in June to honor the first little one that I lost. I never got to hold that little one. I still feel as though I never said good-bye the "right way", despite carrying the dead baby around in my uterus for a month and a half. I held the little gestational sac enveloping my second loss and said goodbye and buried her in my garden. I planted bulbs and surrounded the area with my favorite stones. At times, I have felt guilt surrounding both losses; things that I regret having sone or not done.</p>
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<p>I think that expressing yourself through your art is so important in helping you to sort through it all. I hope that you are doing well physically and are able to rest if you need to. <img alt="hug.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/hug.gif"></p>
 

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<p>Wow, that story was beautiful.</p>
<p>And Charlotte it is the same for me, I did not fully grieve Benjamin. I think a HUGE reason why I acted the way that I did with him is because of how my in-laws reacted. I'm not trying to put the blame on them but I was totally in shock about how they acted and was left feeling stupid about the whole thing. My husband was working for his parents when I lost Benjamin and he'd taken off the day that I miscarried so that he could be with me. When he called them the next day to tell them that he wanted to stay home so we could say goodbye to the baby as a family they hung up on him. I ended up calling back because he just started sobbing. His mother told me off, she was horrible and told me that she was "sorry the baby died but I have a business to run!", she left the conversation with "he can either come in tomorrow or find another job!" She yelled at me the entire time and even blamed the miscarriages on me. So the day after an extremely traumatic miscarriage that caught me totally by surprise my husband lost his job (he could not work with them after that), my MIL told me off, and I was left thinking "am I just nuts to think this is actually important?". It was just a few hours later that I finally opened his sac; I wish I had waited and let their cruelty leave my mind a little. But, like Nicole said, we live and learn. This time I knew exactly what I wanted to do and I did it.<span><img alt="stillheart.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/stillheart.gif"></span></p>
<p><span>Thanks for all the reassurance ladies.</span></p>
 

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<p>I'm so sorry Krista! I wish there was more that I could say, but I completely understand 110% and I know how much you are hurting right now <span><img alt="hug.gif" src="http://files.mothering.com/images/smilies/hug.gif" style="width:22px;height:15px;"></span></p>
 
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