I never know when it’s going to happen.
Sometimes I’m reading, or driving my car, or talking to a friend, and then I am hit.
Terrible visions fill my mind.
Doctors gathered around her bed working frantically.
Pharmacists hurridly mixing drugs right in front of me.
Her heart monitor and oxygen saturation monitor dropping…rising…dropping…dropping.
I can’t stop the nightmares from flooding in, taking over, knocking me breathless.
I try to think of happier times, but the bad images keep rushing back.
I hate that I can’t control it. I hate that these horrors hit me when I am trying so hard to focus on the positive things. I hate that I will be talking to my husband and I’ll be transported back to that day without any warning, only to realize I haven’t heard a thing my husband has said. It’s the reason why I prefer to talk on email, or text, or chat, because at least there is a transcript I can refer back to.
I don’t, for a second, regret being in the room when it all happened. I needed to be there for her, and I know that if I hadn’t, my imagination would be just as cruel.
I just wish I could control the nightmares. They’re not always at night.
EmmieJ says:
This post literally took my breath away. (((HUGS))) to you, hon. I wish you could control them too. WIth all my heart.
.-= EmmieJ´s last blog ..My Buddy and Me =-.
pamela says:
I cant even imagine what youre feeling. Nightmares are the worst especially when its reality and it sets in
Marnie says:
Hugs to you Heather. I wish you only had the good memories.
Ohmygoshi says:
Oh Heather, I’m only one of the several hundreds , if not thousands, of stranger friends that are here for you. While I love your blog and every thought you share here, I would trade it all for a million years of never knowing who you are, if it meant you could have Maddie back.
huge hugs to you tonight.
.-= Ohmygoshi´s last blog ..Growing up isn’t easy =-.
tiff says:
Heather,
I know everytime I comment here, I am comparing. It’s so hard not to.
I can relate.
Without sounding smug or stupid or giving off advice, which I don’t want to do because I am further along and this is your own journey to travel, in your own time and I really hated it when people told me things that I didn’t want to hear and didn’t want to believe.
I still have nightmares.
Yes, still.
They are few and far between now.
All I can offer you is hugs.
Also, these posts, they take me back to when William died, like it was yesterday and I wanted you to know that walking with you is very healing for me.
So, thank you.
Kate says:
Hugs to you and Mike.
.-= Kate´s last blog ..5 Good Things About Today =-.
catherine lucas says:
Heather, you are LIVING a nightmare, so I understand that you hate the lack of control. I hope for you that they will become less intruding, there is nothing else to hope for I guess… I have not heard about an easy medication or anything else that can take nightmares away. Even if they appear during the day. It must be so horrific… You sure have more coureage then a lot of us. I don’t know if I could have stayed in that room with all the things that went on… You were a lioness fighting for her cub… I wished the doctors could have saved her.
.-= catherine lucas´s last blog ..Ferrets and Pink rabbit ears… =-.
Katrina says:
Ugh. I can’t even imagine a pain like yours. I don’t want to. Even just attempting to imagine what it would feel like …. is awful. Just awful No mama should have to go through what you went through, what you are going through. It’s so terribly unfair.
Of course there are a thousands more good memories of Maddie…and I pray that someday only those will flood your mind. And that those few memories that bring so much pain will fade, in time. And won’t be there to sideswipe you as often as they do now.
.-= Katrina´s last blog ..Aria’s Birthday =-.
Debbie in Memphis says:
I wish there was some way I could help you; I wish that I could change this journey and nightmare. Sending prayers for peace. Hugs and love to you and Mike.
Cinthia says:
I am so sorry you have to go through this. I can’t imagine how hard it must be. Big hugs from Horsetown, USA (Norco)!
Noelle says:
Tonight, I’m borrowing words:
“”There are times when there are too few words left to heal us, when what we wish for is to be carried, when all we have left is the hope that tomorrow will be a more gentle place to land than today.”
Sending you love, hugs, and prayers.
.-= Noelle´s last blog ..20/100/5000 Contest =-.
Aunt Becky says:
Fuck, man. I can only imagine. I’m sorry, Heather.
.-= Aunt Becky´s last blog ..But Never Broken =-.
Jenn says:
OOhhh Sweetie….I’m so sorry. I think the passing of any child is terrible but what you and Mike (I’m not sure if any other family members were in the room during that time) went through, in my humble opinion is unforgivable, unfathomable, and cruel. I am still so angry with the Dr’s who only give Maddie 10 more minutes before he stopped. I can imagine one would have to prepare and find there own copping stratgies to have such a stressful position as a Dr however, that will never excuse what that dink (Dr) did to you guys.
I can tell you this Heather and it’s coming straight from my heart and soul. I admire you. I am in awe of your strength, in your ability to be so honest it’s raw. I envy your gift of words and photography and I am delighted by your sense of humour as it is very simular to mine.
After watching many video’s of Maddie, I have been lucky enough to witness the profound love and respect you have for that little girl. I love how much courage both you and Mike had to let Maddie be a “normal” little girl, giving her more positive experiences in her 17 months than some children ever get!! I love that about you guys!!!. You could have choose to shelter her and not allow her to go to the park, play grouds, partying, etc in the fear she might have caught a cold but you chose to let her enjoy herself and experience all that she had. I will always respect you and Mike for that!
Both Maddie and Binky are so lucky and BLESSED to have you as their Mama. I can’t wait to “meet” your new baby and enjoy so many wonderful pictures and videos. I look forward to the “smile in your words” and hear you giggle on the videos like you so often did in the video’s of Maddie.
I for one am so very proud of you and thank you Heather for letting me be apart of your world and to have the priviledge to know Maddie from so many wonderful pictures, video’s and your writings.
Take Care of you!
My best to you Heather.
Sincerely,
Your Friend in the distance.
Jenn
Kelly says:
God I wish I could help…
Love and hugs for you all.
.-= Kelly´s last blog ..Lounging around =-.
Agatha says:
There’s a name for it and it is: post traumatic stress disorder…. I hope I do not annoy – of course somebody told you already?… Sometimes it helps to have a name for such a thing so you can (maybe) handle it just a little better. (When I suffered from blackouts and knew – after years – it had been panic attacks, it was kind of relief. but maybe it’s not comparable.
– Please excuse my bad English. I wish I could explain better….)
I read your blog every day, and I’m admiring your strength.
Greetings from Germany
Agatha
Jennie says:
I too read every post you write, and wanted to let you know that I’m thinking of you every day. I hope that the bad memories start to recede and let the good ones become the stronger very soon. I can’t imagine how hard it is to get through the day while having to deal with those flashbacks.
Much love to you both.
.-= Jennie´s last blog ..Maria, or Margo? =-.
Erica says:
My dear sweet Heather,
Like so many of your other thousands of ‘stranger friends’ I too have you and Mike in my thoughts every single day and remember your dear sweet precious Madeline every single day. Although I have never ‘met’ you, Mike or your precious Maddie, I have had the great honour of getting to know you through reading your posts and looking at your precious photos and videos of your amazing little girl. Its been such an honour for me to share these parts of your life. I now ‘check’ in on you, dear sweet Heather, every single day. I think of you from the moment I wake up, my heart aches for you from the moment I wake up and I so wish there was something I could for you from the moment I wake up. Like so many of your other stranger friends, I wish from the very botton of my heart that I could help carry your pain for you, that I could live your nightmares for you, that I could carry your grief for you.
O if only all of us who love you could carry your pain and live your nightmares for you, there would not be too much if any at all left for you to bear on your own, dear sweet Heather, – o yes of course we all know just how very great your pain and grief are, but, dear sweet Heather, you are loved and cared for so very deeply by so very many people, people all over California, all over America, all over Europe and indeed all over the World, that if only we could all unite to carry your pain and grief for you, there would be so many of us to share the burden with you.
My dear sweet Heather, we are all here for you in any way that we can be. We’re here to read your words, share your grief, walk your journey with you, hold your hand and surround you with our love and support.
Dear sweet Heather, you are an amazing lady, so brave, courageous and strong. You are such an inspiration to so many of us and so many of us are in awe of you. You continue to teach us to be better people and we continue to learn from your qualities every day.
We are all here for you.
Sending you all my love, always.
Your friend, Erica in Luxembourg
PattiMcKenna says:
You are so right. If you were not there, your imagination would be just as cruel and vivid. I wasn’t there at the moment my son died. But I’ve imagined every scenario over and over and over again. Then my mind goes into protective mode and starts playing the What if game, taking me away from the actual outcome and putting me somewhere with a happier ending.
Then, I return to reality, where it starts over again eventually.
.-= PattiMcKenna´s last blog ..I’m Touched =-.
Barbara Howard says:
I wish I could wrap my arms around you and hold you and keep the sadness at bay, even for just one flashback episode. They are indeed incredibly cruel, and it seems nothing can keep our hearts and minds from going to them after such a terrible loss. But if it could be done, for you, I would take care of it.
Traci says:
I never thought I would understand what you are going through… and now I do. The sounds from the horrible day are deafening and drown out what is happening in the present. The visions are as vivid as if they had just occured. The thoughts of what might have been are so… I don’t have a word… cruel, heartbreaking, earth shattering.. they all fit and they are enough to drive a person mad. I’m sorry you know this pain. I’m sorry that anyone knows this. But your not alone and I feel with you daily.
.-= Traci´s last blog ..You are My Sunshine, My Only Sunshine… =-.
Mary C says:
I heard this song and thought of you:
When your dreaming with a broken heart
The waking up is the hardest part.
You roll out of bed and down on your kness
And for a moment you can hardy breathe
Wondering was she really here
Is she standing in my room?
When your dreaming with a broken hard
The giving up is the hardest part
She takes you in with her crying eyes
Then all at once you have to say goodbye
Wondering, could you stay, my love?
Would you wake up by my side?
I left out some of the song. I know the song is about a man losing the love of his live, but I’m pretty sure, if not positive thats what Maddie was to you and Mike.
I hope someday your daymares aren’t so vivid.
I hope that night time is spared by dreams that only make you happy!
I hope that you have a good day today free of daymares.
Lots of hugs with love to you and Mike.
Mary C says:
One more thing! ohmygoshi said “I would trade it all for a million years of never knowing you, if that meant you could have Maddie back!” I would too!
AmazingGreis says:
Thinking about you and Mike and sweet Maddie today and ALWAYS!!
XOXO
.-= AmazingGreis´s last blog ..30 20 days of {BLANK} – DAY 2 & 3 =-.
Krissa says:
Sending (((hugs))) and love and hoping with all my heart that the nightmares will come to you less frequently.
Al_Pal says:
I hope the frequency of good memories outnumber the bad, and soon.
*HUGS*
Tamara M. says:
Heather. Love and Hugs. and Peace.
xoxo
Alexandra says:
Thinking of you…
Tami says:
Oh Heather , My heart breaks for you. I cant imagine what that night must of been like. I would be reliving it over and over also as I do many other things that upset me. I am a stresser and I hate it. I wish I could be there to help you. I really do feel your pain and understand. My thoughts and prayers are with you.
hugs,
Liz says:
I still see images from the hospital room at any point in time. There’s no rhyme or reason to it. But it will fade slightly and not be so crippling.
Warmest thoughts to you both.
.-= Liz´s last blog ..Last Night =-.
Lynn from For Love or Funny says:
Sending love.
.-= Lynn from For Love or Funny´s last blog ..How many do you have? =-.
cj says:
I’m so sorry and so impressed by your strength. Praying that every day brings less nightmares……..only happy memories and good dreams.
Amber says:
How hard it must have been to see all that went on that day! I understand though needing to be in there, I would feel the same. I just hope when your mind wanders back from those terrible thoughts, you feel the warmth and love from all of us out here.
Heather says:
Heather, I’m so so so sorry, and it is like a nightmare when memories hit you like that, for me it’s the unexpected image of seeing my daddy’s bruised body in the casket, with a cloth wrapped around his forehead to conceal his head wound, the veil they had to drape over the open part, so his bruises wouldn’t be so visible, and it strikes, anytime, anyplace, and it STILL gets me. Sending prayers, love and peace to you, Mike, Binkie and of course Maddie.
The other Heather in Canada
Julia says:
It’s called “processing”…your brain, psyche, soul, heart….has to process this horrible event. Hopefully, in time, these episodes will be less and less….
Like anxiety or panic attacks…you just have to ride the wave. Distraction helps too…but the best help of all is time.
You are loved by so many. Hopefully you can feel that support.
.-= Julia´s last blog ..Several very minor items to discuss…. =-.
Lisa says:
It just breaks my heart that you have to go through this. It crushes my heart to think how incredibly terrible those nightmares must be. Nightmares are terrible things, they come when you least expect them. I wish I could say something, do something, anything to help.
All I can do is send hugs and love.
.-= Lisa´s last blog ..Teaching Your Toddler or Preschooler Their ABCs and 123s =-.
Sunny says:
Love and hugs to you today. Our minds can be so cruel to have us relive the bad times. Hopefully your mind will send you in the direction of so many beautiful memories you have of Maddie.
.-= Sunny´s last blog ..17 Months =-.
Shannon Kieta says:
Sweet Heather…
You have wittness things NO ONE should ever have to in a lifetime!!!! How in the F@#& would anybody expect you to get over that? Excuse my french, I don’t usually curse like that; I just get so upset for you, becuase, you know, how I adopted you as my sister and all, I can’t stand to see you so hurt! I can’t even imagine the pain you are experiencing! I know the feelings you are talking about. Being somewhere and the overpowering of emotions. I get them too with the grief of my sister. I will be at the mall or at a friends house, see something, talking aout something, and all of the sudden the tears are like a monsoon! My hear starts pounding in my ears, and I have to leave. It’s sad, it sucks, but from what “they” say, it’s all part of the “process”. I hope Binky can ease that pain a bit for you and Mike. Remember, I am always here if you need me. You have my e-mail if you ever need to talk! Luv Ya! Shannon
Deborah says:
Wishing you a day without nightmares, and many moments of peace.
(((((hugs)))))
.-= Deborah´s last blog ..Sunkissed =-.
Bridget says:
No matter what “process” it is, it still sucks.
xoxo
.-= Bridget´s last blog ..Mann Fann =-.
Alli says:
Wow. I just don’t know what to say. I do like how you could see that as horrifying as it was for you to be in the room with her during her final moments, it would have been worse for you not being there.
I wish so much I could trade even just 1 day with you to have a nightmare-free day.
~Hugs from TX
.-= Alli´s last blog ..For Those That Find Dora Annoying =-.
sam {temptingmama} says:
Oh friend. I am so very sorry.
I agree with you about HAVING to be in the room because otherwise, the questions and thoughts would overcome you all the time. I am so very much the same. I’d rather KNOW as horrible as it is, I’d rather know every single detail then let me imagination run wild.
I can only hope that the nightmares of reliving that day dissipate, but not that you forget. You can’t forget.
I would do anything – ANYTHING – if I could minimize your pain even for a day.
I love you and Mike tons.
I miss you coco! xoxo
.-= sam {temptingmama}´s last blog ..Floating like a rock =-.
A N N A says:
Your writing is so powerful. It’s been ten years since I was the one watching chaos in a hospital room, but seconds in to this post, I was there again, my heart seizing, as it attempted to escape my chest. I am sorry that you are sideswiped by those memories and I pray for you, for peace.
Not a day goes by, when I don’t think of you. ITB.
.-= A N N A´s last blog ..In Memory of Magnificent Madeline =-.
Odessa says:
Citizen Cope- Sideways
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fB5IPBeuHNo
Somehow when it was put into a song it helped me breath a little easier. This one nailed it for me and it was the first thing I thought of when I read this post.
Erin B. from VA says:
Oh, how my heart aches for you… and how I wish there was more I could do other than to simply tell you how deeply sorry I am.
Sending much love your way.
nic @mybottlesup says:
oh my sweet…. i know all to well how imagines can haunt one’s mind, not necessarily at night.
i’m so sorry. so so sorry.
sending you love and peace.
.-= nic @mybottlesup´s last blog ..my heart… continued… =-.
nic @mybottlesup says:
oh yeah “imagines” was supposed to be “images”
my mind is not operating today….
.-= nic @mybottlesup´s last blog ..my heart… continued… =-.
Vicky says:
This is so hard. I think what is happening is that your brain is trying to process the horrific event that you witnessed.
I did the same thing when my mom was sick and passed away. I played it over and over in my mind. I remember the first night I actually didn’t think about it for a little while. Like you, as hard as it was to witness, I’m thankful that I was there. The bad thing is that my mom actually passed in the night and I was asleep on the couch next to her hospital bed. My imagination takes me places I don’t want to go regarding what really happened at the moment of her death. I actually think that part of it is the worst, because I don’t really know what happened. I imagine all kinds of scenarios, where the rest of it I know what happened.
I’m praying for more good moments for you that someday will balance out the bad.
Heather says:
I’m so sorry… Praying for you, Mike and binky.
.-= Heather´s last blog ..not the way =-.
Bec says:
I hope it wont be always be like this. All my life.
.-= Bec´s last blog ..Life with a turdler – Part 2 =-.
Suzanne says:
My head swam as I read this. We are here for you.
Courtney says:
I am so very sorry that you are having such bad nightmares, you and your family are in my prayers and I hope that someday my prayers are answered. God Bless.
Courtney in New York
.-= Courtney´s last blog ..What do I want to do? =-.
kari says:
The same thing happened after my mom died. And then after my first daughter was stillborn. The horror-story moments wouldn’t leave my head. A few years out, they still pop in my head without warning sometimes. But less often, and I’m able to push them away easier. Most of the time.
Sara Joy says:
I really wish I had something better to say than “me too”. I’m sick of hearing me say that so my guess is so are you.
I can’t fix it, I can’t make it better, I can just tell you that I pray for you and send you internet {HUGS} cuz that’s all I’ve got.
Sigh.
.-= Sara Joy´s last blog ..How We Met Part III =-.
stephanie says:
A totally unrelated experience that I am going to share here, but I wanted to say that I understand a sliver of what you may be going through. Years back, I was walking across the street with my best friend and I made it across safely but he got hit by a car going quite fast. He was injured pretty seriously, though he is now ok. The good news is that I don’t still have intrusive visions and nightmares about witnessing that event. Certain sounds and images were imprinted into my brain and I would regularly hear the thuds of a body hitting a car, a body hitting the ground and I always saw this vision of a lone shoe that got knocked off my friend’s foot in the accident.
It took time, but eventually these receded into the background of my memory. I can’t say how long, really, just that at some point I realized that I was no longer being harassed by unwelcome visual and auditory visitors. Now even the sharpest images and sounds have become really fuzzy, as 10 years (yikes.. almost to the day!!) have elapsed since then.
I’m not going to sit here and tell you that terrible images always go away. Because I don’t think that they can ever do this in their entirety. But, if we are lucky, they become fogged and blurred and harder and harder to retrieve over time. This is what I hope for you. That over time, they simply get lost among a sea of more beautiful memories of your daughter.
.-= stephanie´s last blog ..We’re home… =-.
Susan says:
Thanks for posting this. I don’t think I have ever written about this sort of thing but this happens to me, still 2 years later, though less frequently. My son was at home on hospice. I flash back to those awful last few hours and to the last breath.
I don’t know if there is anything to be done about it. I am sorry you are plagued by these thoughts. I guess it is the brain’s way of handling something so horrible.
I wasn’t trying to make this about me, I guess I just wanted to say you are not alone and for me, knowing I am not alone helps, just a little bit.
.-= Susan´s last blog ..Second Grade =-.
amanda says:
Love, love, love to you.
xo from CT,
Amanda
.-= amanda´s last blog ..weekend. update. =-.
Michelle Pixie says:
I cannot fathom what you go through every minute, but I sure wish this wasn’t your reality. You have got to be one of the strongest women I have ever had the privilege of knowing (even if it is only a small glimpse through this blog). My dad died two years ago this October and I am still a hermit. There are days I want nothing more then to stay completely snuggled in my nest and never come out and I have found that it is so draining on me to have to have conversations that aren’t through email, although I don’t mind the phone as much anymore but thank god for caller ID.
I know losing a parent doesn’t at all compare to what you have lost. You are amazing and you give so much strength to all of us who read this. I only hope that we can share some of that strength with you to get you through…
{{{HUGS}}}
.-= Michelle Pixie´s last blog ..Bubbles =-.
Lisa from WV says:
I would like to comment on your blogs more, as I read them every single morning of the week, and pray for you every single day, but sometimes I just do not know what to say, or I will start to type something and it will sound dumb or pointless. What you went through seems like the worst thing anyone could ever go through, so it makes sense that you would be taken back to that horrible day from time to time. I hope that, little by little, those horrible memories fade, and the upcoming joy of seeing and raising Binky will help that happen very soon. From what I know about you through your blog, you sound like the greatest mother anyone could ever ask for, and it’s not fair that anyone, especially you, should have to ever go through what you are going through. I am so moved by your ability to let the world witness your nightmare through your words, and the strength you have to keep going. You will continually be in my prayers.
Your friend on the other side of the U.S.
Lisa
leslie says:
I’m so sorry. I wish I could make it better. Today my daughter is Maddie’s age that day. I cried just thinking about it yesterday. I cannot imagine your horror. I wish the nightmares didn’t have to happen at all.
Mary @ Holy Mackerel says:
The mind plays cruel tricks on us, and I don’t know why. I do know it takes a long time for those images to start receding. I think it’s all part of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, which I have.
Take care of yourself, and know that we’re all here for you.
.-= Mary @ Holy Mackerel´s last blog ..Playing Mind Games, And Making Wishes Come True! =-.
Erica says:
Heather–I understand the horror of the nightmares. Not sure why they are called nightmares because like morning sickness, they come at at all hours. I too have had horrible flashbacks and panic attacks over the birth of our daughter. She was a 31 weeker spending 6 weeks in the NICU, then another week in Children’s with menengitis. Heart monitors, ambulances and parking garages send me into a tailspin. You think you are doing fine then here comes the mack truck. I know how hard and unforgiving it is. I’m sending you love and a huge hug.
Susan says:
Heather,
I was there with my daughter when she left, but they sent us away while they tried to bring her back. Part of me wishes I could have stayed. I understand how you feel, really. Erin has been gone almost 27 years, and I still live those last few moments sometimes, and it still hurts, but I try to make the good memories come back in quickly.
Here’s hoping the gut kicks become less frequent, and the good memories more frequent.
Susan
Maggie says:
My mother died in 2006. I took care of her at home. She had pulmonary fibrosis and, on her last day, she slowly suffocated for 6 hours – until the final dose of morphine . . . given by me. I still have nightmares, reliving the horror of those 6 hours.
I don’t know if you’ll ever be able to put Maddie’s last day in a place you can handle. But, I’ll pray you can.
anonymous says:
I think it is also PTSD. I still have it from my daughter’s 3 1/2 months in the NICU and from the two weeks I spent on bed rest trying to keep her in utero from 24 to 26 weeks. But probably even more than that, I had it for a long time from the night I found my sister when she tried to commit suicide – whether it was a real attempt or a cry for help, we’ll never really know, but the blood and the razors and her passed out in her bed was dramatic enough to get my attention well enough. She didn’t really end up doing any life-threatening damage, so I sat up much of the night waiting to call my parents, who were out of town (I was 21, home from school, for the summer, my sister was younger but also home from college for the summer). To this day, I have no idea why I felt like I had to wait to call them until 7 in the morning. So I sat there with that mess, watching my sister until morning, so she wouldn’t do anything else, and for years later, things would trigger memories of that night, of those early morning hours. And I would LOSE it! Sometimes it would be conversations, movies, a tv special about “cutters” – and all of the sudden, I would be hyperventilating and I would have to leave the room. I finally figured out it was PTSD.
Nothing will ever lessen the whole or the pain of the loss. Nothing will ever cause you to get over the loss or pain and heartache of the experience. But the intensity of PTSD and how it pops up on you day to day can be “managed”, and I say that very carefully, eventually, in time.
Karen says:
I can’t imagine what it is like to live with your heavy heart or with those horrific nightmares. I just can’t imagine. Through your writing though, becasue of your transparency, your brutal honesty and your incredible ability to put your feelings into words, I can feel your pain and your sorrow. It’s all so very awful.
.-= Karen´s last blog ..A mother is a mother is a mother… =-.
Patty B says:
I agree with Tiff’s comment above completely. It always amazes when I realize the high number of people that deal with losing a child. The reality of it hits harder when reading your posts, dear Heather. My nightmares have subsided for the most part. They were horrific, and I would never want them back. I also will not tell you what they were because then I would worry that you would have the same type of nightmares as well. You have enough on your plate. I will keep praying for you, Mike, Maddy and Binky. Please know that your stranger friends who post on your blog are here for you should you ever need to talk to someone who has walked in your shoes, no matter how long ago. Hugs and love, Patty B.
Trisha Vargas says:
Sending extra HUGS to you today.
Trisha from Florida
GingerB says:
I wish I could help you feel better. Another friend of mine has joined your club of parents who had their children taken from them, and I am trying to take good care of her from a distance, and I always think of you. Many hugs.
.-= GingerB´s last blog ..Who I used to be =-.
Eunice says:
I hope the happy memories of your Maddie slowly overtake those nightmares, Heather. Here’s hoping that today is a better day for you. *hugs*
Amanda says:
As always, still here, thinking and praying for you and yours.
and Remembering Maddie…always.
Amanda says:
I also want to add…ran across your pictures of Maddie’s 1st birthday. The Flintstone pictures – absolutely adorable!
Amanda says:
I can see it, I just cannot imagine what you are going through. I can say that you are a brave person for sharing this with everyone and surely you are helping someone (maybe) many in ways you may not realize. And you’re right, your being there was important and the best thing you could have done.
That said, all I can do is send hugs and hopes for a peaceful mind.
.-= Amanda´s last blog ..Summer Reading Round-up – Part One =-.
Pam says:
Hugs Heather. Hoping Maddies Happy memories will eventually flood your thoughts. Peace to you.
cindy w says:
I’m not about to sit here & diagnose you, since I already know that you’re in very capable hands & know allllll about PTSD. But it just struck me how similar these flashes must be to what soldiers experience after they come back from war. The horrors they’ve seen, things that no person should ever see. You & Mike have been through your own kind of war hell. It’s beyond awful, & I hate it for you.
Sending big hugs & prayers your way, as I do every day & especially every Tuesday.
.-= cindy w´s last blog ..chicken curry, British style =-.
gorillabuns says:
i totally understand.
.-= gorillabuns´s last blog ..feed me seymour =-.
mrs. chicken says:
Nothing helpful to say except that I am listening. I hear you. I can’t understand and wouldn’t presume to, but I’m holding you in my heart from afar.
Allison Speicher Pereur says:
We call them landminds… you are just going about your day and wammo! It can be something so small that will trigger a landmind.
Hugs to you and the family.
itb
Kim says:
Huge hugs to you my dear. The nightmares lessen as time goes by. I remember trying to remember good times, and seeing and smelling so vividly what it was like when she died. It lessens…but never goes away.
Seriously, you need to come to Logan and play with Loralee and me. We can eat lots of chocolate
.-= Kim´s last blog ..Man Alive am I Funny. =-.
JennK says:
There isn’t much you can do about it and I’m sorry. After almost 6 years, I am still transported to that day (for me) but I will say that it is not as often. And the good times are easier to reach.
Just hold on. That’s my only advice. It will get easier. I don’t know when but it will. Hold on. Very tight. And we will all hold you too.
.-= JennK´s last blog ..A confession. =-.
Erin says:
I am so sorry…i hope someday…maybe not soon, or maybe in the near future you can find SOME sort of peace. I am so sorry again for your loss….i am always thinking of you!
.-= Erin´s last blog ..9 months…aldready!?!?! =-.
Laurie says:
This is all just a normal part of grieving. I know you need to control it sometimes to get through the day…but you can’t, and shouldn’t, block it out completely. You need to process it all to get through it. Give yourself time, and don’t be hard on yourself.
** hugs **
.-= Laurie´s last blog ..12 of 12 – August =-.
Glenda says:
Heather…thinking of you and Mike. May you find comfort and peace. Sending you hugs! XX
AMomTwoBoys says:
Sigh.
Love you.
.-= AMomTwoBoys´s last blog ..Birthday Boy =-.
MCB says:
Heather-
I’ve been lurker since in both my facebook feed and twitter feed I learned that Maddie was in the hospitol. We are linked by a friend of a friend of mine.
If I could reccomend, you might try writing when you get into one of those moments. Write down what is triggering it, and how you are feeling during it. Keep a log and then you can figure out how to get through.
Just remember, each of those moments is a process. Those moments of extreme sorrow end, and while the end doesn’t bring you the solace you crave ,it brings you back go to learning how to live in your new normal.
Best of luck
mommymae says:
god, i wish i could stop your nightmares, heather.
.-= mommymae´s last blog ..side by side by side =-.
Danielle says:
My heart truley aches for you. I am sorry.
.-= Danielle´s last blog ..Eww, did you see that train wreck? =-.
Della says:
I wish the nightmares could go away, because it all had not happened in the first place.
When I come here (or to places like Violence Unsilenced), I feel like I’m in a panic room or a vault, scrabbling at the locked door because I’m able to see you hurting, see in my mind’s eye what happened, the things that you keep seeing over and over, and I want to get out and rip all that wrongness off of you, like I could rip the paper decorations down off a bulletin board, crumple it up and throw it behind me so that it’s just NOT THERE any more.
I know that is a really mixed metaphor/analogy/whatever but that is truly how I envision it – if only the wrongness was something that could be ripped away and crumpled up like that.
.-= Della´s last blog ..If you’re geeky and you know it… =-.
Alison says:
I am so, so sorry. Love you.
xoxo
.-= Alison´s last blog ..Personality =-.
tara says:
i’m so sorry – my heart is broken for you. so much love to you, every single day. xoxo
Molly says:
Wishing you some peace in the days ahead. This must be something you need to go through to process it all (part of the shock?) and must lessen with time.
Until then, we are here for you, rooting for you guys.
Vickie Couturier says:
My child,,I am so praying for you,Dear God,you have been thru a persons worse nightmare,I have asked prayer for you at my Church,I wish there was a way to take the pain away,but I cant,all we can do is be here for you an listen,I read what you post everyday,an have cried for you an Mike to see such raw pain in someone i just feel helpless right now,no words can help an nothing anyone can do can help,but know WE are all here for you an we LISTEN to you,if that gives you some help,im glad you can write your thoughts down,God Bless you Sweetheart,Binky is sure one lucky little baby to be coming to you guys are wonderful parents
SJ says:
Dear Heather,
I read your entries every day, and the one from yesterday really hit me hard. Yesterday evening I was going for a walk around a lake near my house , thinking about life… just having a moment. Thoughts of you, Mike and Maddie came into my head as I was reflecting on what you wrote. I looked up at the sky and it was the most beautiful shades of pink and purple. Stunning. Tears came to my eyes thinking about your beautiful Maddie.
Although I am a stranger you are on my mind so often. I’m not a physician, but it sounds to me like you are experiencing some symptoms of PTSD from the horrifying last hours with Maddie in the PICU. Living that nightmare once was enough for any human being, and I am so very sorry that you have to go through it over and over again in your mind. I know this is not something you will ever forget or ‘be over’, but I do hope the visions fade with time. Your poor mind and body deserve some peace.
All my best.
sherry pyle says:
Dear sweet girl I can only imagine how hard all this is for you.
Anyone would have nightmares about it.
I am so sorry for the loss of beautiful Maddie.
However, I know that she is safe and happy. That goes against all my emotional thinking. But I do believe it.
It is so out of our reach to imagine a child gone.
So out of my reach to believe the song “We’ll Understand Someday”
Maybe we will never understand it.
You will be such a great Mom to your new baby just as you were to Maddie.So many of us love and care about you. caring about all your poor heart has had to endure.
Yet, you have been strong and brave and God bless you for sharing with us your life.
Your open heart says so much about you.
may God bless you and help you ar you prpare for this wonderful new baby. Who will share your love for maddie.
Colleen says:
No words exceot that she knew you were with her and that made it better for her.
Anna See says:
I am so sorry. I know it’s not the same as losing a child, but I have awake nightmares of my mom’s last day on earth at 46, when I was 18. It’s torture to go through it again and again, and torture not to.
.-= Anna See´s last blog ..Don’t Judge a Book… =-.
Kellie says:
My friend lost her son. I was with him just a few hours earlier and it took so long for it to sink in. Every time I look at a chair he sat in just hours earlier, I swear I could still see him. Every time I go by the church where his wake was held, I am transported back to that night. When I drive close to the cemetary where he rests, I am blinded by the pain of his loss. And I am merely a bystander in this tragedy. My friend has to live with the memories of finding his limp body. She has to live with the memory of the emergency workers trying in vain to revive him, and she has to live with the memory of holding him in the hospital and saying goodbye. She stood by him, stoic and loving at his wake and at his funeral. She thanked each and every person who came to pay their respects…she did it all and I was amazed. I don’t know how she, or you carry on, but somehow you both do it with such style and grace. That in itself is a miracle, and I know as these memories flood back to you, it is a part of the horrible process of moving on. It’s not fair, it sucks and I would do anything to bring your baby and her baby back. I can only hope that the tragic memories subside and the wonderful memories take over. You deserve at least that.
Sara @heartmychloe says:
I’m here reading and thinking about you, Mike, Maddie, and Binky.
xoxoxo
.-= Sara @heartmychloe´s last blog ..Wordless Weekend (kind of) =-.
Amy says:
Oh Heather… I am just so sorry. I lived through an nasty medical nightmare shortly after the birth of my second daughter. This was a year ago this month and I still have a very hard time wrapping my mind around all that happened to me. This just goes to show how hard it is to let it all go…. clearly I have not gone through the kind of darkness that you and Mike have gone through. I have not lost a child… so I know what I went though does even come close to your anguish. I guess I am just trying to say that I get what you are saying… It is hard to let go of the sights, the sounds, the smells, the god awful memories of what happened. My heart aches for you…
Issa says:
Nightmares suck, no matter when they happen. Thinking of you today. Tons of hugs.
.-= Issa´s last blog ..Our new normal =-.
Marti from Michigan says:
I am so very sorry Heather and Mike, so very, very sorry. I wish I was magic and could bring Maddie back to you.
Please know that whenever you think of her, that IS Maddie coming to you in your thoughts. She KNOWS she was loved, KNOWS how much you both miss her.
I am not “religious” and I hate that word, but I do go to church and I do believe in God and Jesus. I know without a doubt that you WILL see Maddie some day again when both of you go to Heaven. It’s the truth and I fully believe it.
In the meantime, it’s so blasted hard down here on earth. How I made it through these past 36 years since Joseph Scott Patrick died, since my sister lost her baby son to crib death in 1988, since my parents died in 2005 and 2007, I have no idea. Life just happens I guess. It’s really a vapor, just a vapor……
Katrina says:
Just wanted to comment on this. The hardest part of life is living without those who have gone before us. Gosh, but that is really so true! It’s especially true when we are talking about our child. I just can’t imagine anything harder than having to live out my life without one of my children.
And I go to church. My family is Catholic, and there is a time during our mass where they pray for those who have gone before us….and ever since April when I learned of Maddie, I have always thought of and prayed for Maddie during this time. Then soon after that, they ask us for our own intentions, and that is when I pray for you and Mike. I am quite sure that there are hundreds of others out there who do the very same thing (include Maddie in their thoughts and prayers almost daily) Your sweet girl has touched us all so much. So very much.
I am a believer. I know without a doubt that we are united with our loved ones on the day that we pass. The bonds that we have with our children are not just earthly bonds. They are bonds that tie our souls together. Our souls. Souls live on forever.
I visit your blog everyday. I don’t comment all the time because most days I am truly at a loss for words, and I know there is nothing I can say that will help.
But if it eases your pain just a fraction of a bit, I really need to tell you that you will be with Maddie again one day. I just want you to believe that, too. She is tied to your soul. You can feel her. You will always feel her. And you’ll see her again one day.
.-= Katrina´s last blog ..65th Anniversary of D-Day =-.
Marti from Michigan says:
Beautiful reply Katrina, and you are so right. Blessings to you!!
Lindsay from Florida says:
I have spent a good portion of today in your archives. (Shhh, don’t tell my boss!! ) I’d already read most of your past entries, but, I don’t know, there was something in this post that just made me want to go back to all the happy memories. I’ve been immersed yet again in Maddie’s beauty, her light, her joy. I want so much for you a day that THESE types of memories and ONLY these types of memories are the ones that hit you at random moments. I don’t know if such a day is possible, but you deserve one, and so many more.
Thinking of you, Mike, Maddie, and Binky always. You’ve profoundly touched the life of this stranger in Florida.
Jaclyn says:
Thoughts and hugs. Hoping for only the best memories to take over.
.-= Jaclyn´s last blog ..The lake =-.
Badass Geek says:
I’m so, so sorry.
.-= Badass Geek´s last blog ..In Which I Meet Up With Some Mainers =-.
Jenn says:
Oh God…this post really hit me hard. Cannot stop crying. I am just soo damned sorry this has happened to you. It will never make sense to me.
Much love, Jenn in CA
kay says:
PTSD immediately came to my mind as other people mentioned, of course i know your doctors are all probably very aware of this & in control. there is a treatment for PTSD that is relatively new (and slightly controversial) called EMDR that you might want to mention to your doctor & try – it usually has lasting effects after 1 session, according to current research. it may be harder to find someone practicing it – but they do it with war veterans and it helps a LOT with flashbacks, nightmares, etc.
all that being said, i am so sorry that grief is someone you know way too well that most of us never have to meet as much or live with as you do.
.-= kay´s last blog ..Almost A Year =-.
LIsa says:
I wish I could give you a hug right now.
JAR says:
I wish you still had your Maddie with you and only the best, most pleasant memories each day.
.-= JAR´s last blog ..What Are We Going to Do Here? =-.
Notesfromthegrove says:
I hope that someday, the good memories ALWAYS overtake the bad.
.-= Notesfromthegrove´s last blog ..Waiting =-.
Adventures In Babywearing says:
One of my first prayers for you was that the images would be gentle on your mind. I didn’t lose my son, but the traumatic events that occurred with him haunted me, and my mind always wandered to the “what ifs” and just tortured me. I can’t even begin to try to relate to what you are suffering. But I knew how unrelenting the mind can be, and I still pray that you will find peace and reprieve in your mind, and in your heart.
Steph
.-= Adventures In Babywearing´s last blog ..I’m calling it: today is going to be a good day. =-.
mythoughtsonthat says:
Really rough.
Faith….Hope….Love….Peace.
.-= mythoughtsonthat´s last blog ..A Day For New Shoes =-.
Taryn says:
I have been reading your blog silently for months now… I check it every day and cry as I read your amazing posts. This one makes me feel sick to my stomach, I feel like I’m right there with you but I know that I have no idea how you really feel. I had a scary situation with my 9 month old baby last month and I honestly thought he might die. No one would tell me he wasn’t going to and I kept thinking “this is it this is it” watching people crowded around him on the emergency room table I felt so helpless I was like a caged animal. He ended up being o.k. but that night has haunted me ever since. You and your husband and your new baby and Maddie are in my thoughts and prayers every day.
.-= Taryn´s last blog ..*Disneyland* =-.
joy says:
I’m another one you don’t know…. but i feel like I know you as I’ve read here for months.
I send you energy and peace. That your flashbacks will fade. I also want to say from a mama’s perspective, of course you had to be there in the room. What a gift to Maddie for you to be physically there for her when she passed from this world as you were when she came into this world. It would’ve been so sad had you not gotten to be there for that last breath.
.-= joy´s last blog ..On Warrior Parents =-.
Maria Delgado says:
Oh Heather! I am so sorry. I am praying for you.
Jen Hodder says:
My heart just broke into pieces for you. I am so sorry you have had to and continue to have to endure so much pain.
I had something horrific happen to my daughter on June 17th and I have experienced many of the same things you listed. I told my husband, I am unpredictable and may or may not do well in social (or any) situations!
Like you, it just hits me at random times. I told my cousin today, when I may think I will be ok…I fall apart. When I think I will fall apart…I am ok. I just have no idea how I will react to anything. This is one of the strangest things I have ever experienced in my life.
I admire you; you are in my thoughts daily. I wish you continued strength and courage to get through each and every day :o)
.-= Jen Hodder´s last blog ..Best Gift Ever =-.
Shirley says:
That’s rough. It all just SUCKS. Hopefully with time more of the happy memories will fill your mind instead of the last one.
.-= Shirley´s last blog ..The Blueberry Bush =-.
kathryn says:
Hi Heather,
I know you have totally heard the therapy/grief counseling angle- but have you heard about EMDR? It’s a really funky cognitive behavioral technique, but really effective for processing traumatic events that have a visual component to them (e.g. watching a loved one die.) I’m totally not i to trying new things, but I had a very hard time processing my mother’s death which was quickly followed by a miscarriage. The EMDR really helped… it basically involves talking through the images as they play out in your “mind’s eye” while bilaterally stimulating your brain through lights and sound- somehow (and I don’t know precisely how), it facilitates the “processing” aspect, enabling the memories to be somehow less jarring. I am cringing at myself for giving internet assvice (like who am I to even try to approach the pain you are feeling…?), but this post just struck me as encapsulating the horror that is your grief. I just want to share something *anything* that could possibly bring you some degree of peace. Worth a google at least?
Thinking of you and precious Maddie.
Sarah M. says:
I can’t even imagine how hard these nightmares must be for you. Just reading about them took my breath away. I can only hope & pray somehow or someway things get a little easier. God bless.
Julie R. says:
Heather,
I’m sending positive thoughts your way, hoping you can tame the nightmares, day and night.
Best wishes,
Julie R.
Diane says:
All I can do is send our prayers your way, Heather. You and your family are constantly in my thoughts. I am so sorry that you are going through all of this. Big hugs.
Megan says:
i always think of it, for me, like post traumatic stress disorder. Like in those movies, where a car backfires and the Vietnam vet suddenly flashes back to the rice paddy…. that’s how i feel. Something makes a beeping sound and I’m back in the NICU watching that monitor. Smells, sounds, everything and nothing can send me rushing back to those few months my son was alive and in the hospital. They do get less and less, as time goes on and in some strange ways I almost miss them. As awful as they were. I’m so sorry.
.-= Megan´s last blog ..My Katie =-.
Amy says:
Am sure you suffering a bit from shock and PTSS. How could you not?
Keep on taking it day by day in manageable steps..
racheal says:
you’re not alone.
it’s a completely different situation but i understand.
and sometimes, it’s hard. and sometimes, it sucks ass. and sometimes, sometimes you just want to crawl underneath the covers and just make all the images go away.
this healing process blows. but you will be stronger because of this, different, but stronger.
this grief. this grief is so complex and the ping-ponging between stages and one step forward six steps back is exhausting.
take care of yourself.
i don’t think anyone may ever get it completely but here’s a hug. for the hard times and for the happy times.
p/s was going through our donation requests today and didn’t even stop or hesistate at march of dimes. thought of you and maddie and ran it through.
she’s making a difference.
.-= racheal´s last blog ..rachealkate: Lots of changes happening:some good, some bad, some just crazy. Still deciding if I am okay with it or going to be okay because of it. =-.
Mama Kat says:
You are living a nightmare. Hands down every mother’s worst nightmare. Before kids I’d have that morbid talk with my husband about what I would do if I had to choose between him and our first baby (before she was born)…
I was always like “I’d choose you…the love of my life, because without you there would be no baby and there would be no future babies. I couldn’t live without you”
How pitifully and stupidly naive I was.
I’m a mom now…and I would kill him to keep my babies alive.
I would sacrifice my husband to avoid experiencing what you’re experiencing.
I’m reduced to tears and sobbing just thinking about what this is doing to you…how you must ache for her. I’m so sorry Heather.
Cindy says:
Don’t beat yourself up over the grief you are dealing with. I truly believe it takes a long time to process all of it and it just comes to us in bits and pieces. We would melt into the ground if we felt it all at once. This song has helped me more than I can explain. Hope you have time to listen to it. Prayers for you and yours…..
Andrea says:
Oh God, I cannot even imagine. I never know what to say here, but I just want to show my support by throwing out a quick post.
.-= Andrea´s last blog ..Impressed =-.
Tara in The Fort says:
I can’t even imagine where your thoughts take you. The confusion, the disbelief. I’m so very sorry that you have to live with those images in your head. God Bless your sweet little heart. I just adore you and your honesty, your real-ness. You are amazing.
.-= Tara in The Fort´s last blog ..Splish. Splash. =-.
Meg says:
My son had a stroke 3 1/2 years ago. I was with him when it happened. I held his head, helplessly, while we waited for the ambulance and he puked green bile. I’m usually able to suppress it, but last night for no good reason, before bed, I couldn’t get the image out of my head.
I know what you’re going through.
.-= Meg´s last blog ..Shifting Gears =-.
LiteralDan says:
I’m glad you don’t regret being there, because I imagine that is best in the long run, like you say.
I hope you get sideswiped less and less as time goes by, and instead get pleasantly visited by all the happy memories.
.-= LiteralDan´s last blog ..Things 2-year-olds like doing =-.