Today it really hit me that Maddie’s birthday is this weekend. This will be the fourth birthday she’s missed. I’ve learned to keep myself very busy in the days leading up to the eleventh, but today was a particularly rough one physically, and it forced me to slow down. While I laid on the floor of my bathroom, the crushing sadness started to seep into my head and body.
I’ve written before about how I don’t really let myself play the “what would she be doing” game, but I did think about what I’d be doing right now. I’d be in full-blown party mode. I’d be preparing my house for an invasion of all her Junior-Kindergarten classmates. At five, she would have had lots of opinions about the theme of the party, what food she wanted, the games, and of course the biggest debate of all, cupcakes vs. regular cake.
I’ve been thinking a lot about Jackie’s parents, as they are preparing for Jackie’s first missed birthday. I hurt so much for them. Maddie’s first missed birthday was the hardest for us because we were still so new in our grief and we didn’t know what to expect. Her birthdays are still hard, but for different reasons. The grief is more familiar now, and it’s definitely more intense on these special days, to be sure. But I am mostly prepared for it, and I know how to cope.
The thing that’s the hardest on me is the not knowing what kind of person Maddie would have been. Her personality, her interests, her favorite things will always be a mystery to me. We have cream puffs every November 11th because that’s what we did on the only birthday we got to spend with her. But who knows if she would have still liked cream puffs? Or if we’d have even had them again on any other birthday?
So I have the tiniest, stupidest grief-induced jealously of Jackie’s parents, because they know exactly what kind of person Jackie was. We all know exactly how to celebrate her – a meal of favorite foods and good champagne, laughing and telling classic stories, and then if we could squeeze it in, dancing. I of course feel guilty for having that twinge of jealousy, but I can’t help it. Of course, on the flip side I am so thankful that we all know what Jackie would want. I even know that she would be hugging me and telling me not to worry as I admit this whole thing. And I certainly know that there will be others who’ve lost children younger than Maddie, who will be jealous that I got to know her for the time I did.
If there’s one thing I’ve learned in my life with grief so far, it’s that grief is always changing. It can make you envious and angry and sometimes petty. I’ve realized that there’s no use fighting these emotions. For me, it’s better to feel them and work through them. When I try to suppress them, everything is messier and more difficult. So hopefully this latest bit will pass quickly so I can soon focus on celebrating my oldest girl and the anniversary of one of the best days of my life.
Nadinsche says:
Heather, I love your honesty. I am reading every day and sharing some tears quite often (like today). Thinking of you and your wonderful family and Jackie! often.
Courtney says:
Your honestly and awareness is amazing. Thinking of you this weekend (and Jackie’s family too).
Maya says:
I always wonder about life and how unfair it is. Survivors guilt is also difficult- knowing that I will be celebrating the girls birthday next week, while you mourn the loss of Maddie Moo. She is always within my heart., as are you. ALWAYS.
Suzanne says:
Sending you a giant hug from Maryland!! I pray for you and your family everyday and I will be thinking of you this weekend. Please know that your Maddie has touched the hearts and lives of so many. Mine included!
Lilian says:
You are f..&*%$..g awesome! Excuse the weakly disguised expletive, but nothing else fit to express my admiration. Have you ever considered being a grief councelor? You have such understanding of the emotion. Although I would imagine it might be depressing to be in such a position.
Anyway, there’s nothing I can say in regard to your feelings, because you have a realistic grasp on them. As always we are all thinking of you, and will do so even more as you approach Maddie and Jackie’s! birthday. Hang in there!!
sue says:
My thoughts are with you and your families, Heather & Mike, as you celebrate Maddie’s birthday in your very special way,,,,,,,, and also with Jackie’s family.You & Mike express your thoughts like no one I have ever seen, before, and I aprreciate you both so very much. Huge hugs to all of you……….
TamaraL says:
Hugs…
Jessica says:
I love that you shared this because it makes me feel better about feeling the same way. It is strange to be envious of another grieving parent but I often feel the same. I wish I knew what my daughter would have liked and if she would be a girly girl or a tomboy by now but then at the same time I wonder if knowing more would make it all that much more unbearable.
Thinking of you during these tough days.
Melli says:
Thinking of you
Amanda says:
I am so sorry. I am so sorry you have to play that game with yourself. I am so sorry.
Becca says:
I understand.
Thoughts of strength, compassion and warm memories to you this weekend.
Jesika says:
thinking and praying for y'all in the coming days.
Ellie says:
Thinking of you and your wonderful family. I’m sorry life is so unfair
ColleenMN says:
You sound like you are working through the grief – like you are in control of it, rather than it is controlling you. It is was I have always hoped for you guys, to get to a place that you can manage it. I hope I am right. Enjoy the postive things this month has to offer and stay strong
Editdebs says:
Holding the Spohrs in my heart this weekend.
Mrs Catch says:
Sending you a hug. Stay strong.
Pattie says:
I wish I had some magic words for you. Since I don’t, I’ll thank you for your honesty and bravery in sharing how you’re feeling about Maddie’s and Jackie’s upcoming birthdays. Sending much love your way.
Amanda says:
It never fails that visiting you here, your heart and your mind, I am always left wanting to either wrap you in a hug or high five you. You deserve both of those things and so much more.
I know you can make it through, but I wish for you to be able to do so with more joy than sorrow.
Kelly says:
Thinking of you all. Hold those memories you have of your precious girl close to your heart.
Wendy says:
Thinking of you you and your sweet family, especially this weekend! I can’t imagine what you and Mike are going through, but I do know that Maddie would have been an awesome adult…as they say, the apple does not fall far from the tree and you and Mike are both amazing!
Trisha says:
Thank you for your honesty and for sharing Heather.
Grief is forever changing and always ugly. On a good day you can be hit with a smell, song or sight that just knocks you right in the gut and other days you can reflect and maybe have tears, but they are happy tears.
My dad’s been gone 7 years but not making any new memories as the stories I once shared about him start fade is the hardest part for me. I have nothing to replenish the memories with and it sucks.
I will hear people complain about their dads and I feel a tinge of jealousy myself and think at least you still have him here, so I get that envy and jealousy part of grief. Grief isn’t pretty and it’s still so hard, even 7 years later.
Always thinking of you and Mike and the girls, especially through November and all the holidays to follow.
Sending hugs to you all!!
Debbie B. says:
Thinking of you.
Skye says:
I think of Maddie on my birthday (November 6) and feel sad each time I grow a year older and she does not. I am so sorry you did not get to know her for longer and you don’t know what she would like for her fifth birthday party. I hope you are able to enjoy lots of happy memories on Maddie and Jackie’s birthdays. Sending love to your family and Jackie’s family.
Glenda says:
thinking of you, Mike, Maddie, Annie… Jackie! and her family.
xo
Tammy M says:
Heather, you have acquired a lot of wisdom in your young life. I am sorry for that adversity that brought it to you, but it makes you a special person.
Hugs from a stranger,
T.
Tammy M says:
You are a great writer – you should write a book.
Yana says:
My second daughter was stillborn at 24 weeks after having been terribly sick for at least 4 weeks in utero. I catch myself envying parents who lost their 6 mo olds to SIDS. I know, I’m a horrible person. But at least they got to hold them alive and breathing, they got to nurse them and see them smile and so on… And then I see another friend of mine, who lost a baby at 15 weeks gestation, who envies me for having an urn and a “real” birth experience and so on… I guess, it’s “normal” to feel that way, albeit terrible. I try not to judge anyone, myself included. We’re all in this shitty place not by our own choice, so we need to stick together.
Cuddles to all of you. Maddie is greatly missed. I think about you often, even though I live on another continent.
Nicole says:
Sending much much much love.
Abby Leviss says:
You know what is weird? Sometimes I am jealous of the parents whose babies died younger than Max – because maybe there are less memories to miss (which I know is not true and makes no sense), sometimes I am jealous of parents whose babies died older for the reasons that you describe above. Sometimes I feel like other parents have it worse because their babies died younger and they didn’t get to know their children as well I got to know Max….other times I feel like the parents of older babies have it worse because they got to know their children better. Truth is – it is all crap, right? It’s all so sad. I am so sorry that Madeline won’t here to celebrate her birthday.
Me says:
Lots of love to you Mama Spohr.
Expat Mom says:
I always feel that it is far sadder when a child dies than when an adult does because of exactly that reason. The child doesn’t have a chance to grow and learn what she likes and doesn’t like and develop birthday and holiday traditions. An adult has done that. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being a bit envious.
Amelia says:
Light and love to you.
Lynn says:
October 28th would have been my daughter’s 10th birthday, she lived only 8 weeks, so we didn’t get to celebrate any of her birthdays but I under stand what you are saying…I’ve had people tell me that it’s not as bad for me because I didn’t even have her that long, so I shouldn’t miss her too much…
Charles says:
My Jennifer lived only three weeks. We loved and cared for her and I miss and grieve for her still 40 years later.
I know the pain you feel from your loss and the insensitive although well intensioned remarks people who have not lost a child offering comfort.
Lynn says:
Thank you Charles
Charles says:
I may be the exception in that I still cannot visit her grave the grief come roaring back. One never gets over the loss of a child.
I grieve with you.
Mommy says:
I admire your honesty and bravery, and thank you for helping us to understand.
Love and hugs being sent to you all. I hope Jackie and Maddie have the most amazing birthday celebrations together this month.
Jenn says:
I think of you guys often and am so sad you have to face another birthday without sweet little Maddie. Sending you losts of hugs and love from us!
xo
Tricia says:
In the first year after my son died I found a lot of comfort in attending a local chapter of TCF, which is a support group for parents who lost a child at any age for any reason. The kids who had died ranged from 3 (our son) to well into their fifties. The meetings when elderly people were there grieving their adult children were the hardest for me. While logically I find it easy to understand their devastation at the death of their child, their baby, I would quietly be raging inside. I was incredibly jealous of the years they had with their kids. Somehow our losses seemed fundamentally different to me. I have met many bereaved parents since those days and these don’t appear to be uncommon emotions. Unfortunately, for me the logic side doesn’t always win.
Holding you close in my thoughts as you celebrate Jackie! and Maddie’s birthdays.
Amy says:
Maddies birthday, I will be thinking of her and you guys all day.
– hugs –
Jana Frerichs says:
Heather, I think your feelings are very valid and they way you are handling them are phenomenal! I mean this with the utmost respect, but I understand this in a way. Because I’m jealous of you and your ability to get pregnant. And every woman in the world who has no problem getting pregnant. And it’s so stupid because you don’t have easy pregnancies and have had so much grief because of them. But I wish I could just get pregnant. I can’t even get over that hump to be able to face any others. I think it must be AMAZING to be able to be with your husband and get pregnant naturally. To take a pregnancy test and be able to tell your husband. But that’s my jealousy in grief. Cause the rational side of me knows it’s not completely like that for you. Pregnancy is scary and hard. And I really wish it wasn’t that way for you. And I wish you hadn’t had to endure the losses you have. So I hope you find some peace in knowing we all have crazy feelings. Just keep on doing what you are doing cause I truly believe you got it right.
Lanie says:
Thank you for being so honest. I also try not to think about what Jake and Sawyer would be doing now if they were alive. And, I also think about the birthday parties I should be planning – in fact Sawyer’s 3rd birthday would have been later this month so I have been thinking about it alot.
The jealousy makes complete sense to any other bereaved parent. I guess it comes along with being part of the club. I wish none of us lived in a world without our child/children.
Sending extra hugs and good thoughts to you, Mike, Maddie and Annie this Sunday. Also sending hugs to Jackie! and her family – the firsts are so difficult. The seconds, thirds and all the rest are no picnic but as you wrote the grief is more familiar (yet it always seems to have a way of changing, doesn’t it). Take care. xo
Ray says:
I read this line: ”I’ve been thinking a lot about Jackie’s parents, as they are preparing for Jackie’s first missed birthday” and yelled, “WHAT” (as soon as I read it )?! I haven’t been on your site for a year, so that completely took me off guard. Made me burst into tears just now. Didn’t know Jackie! personally, but from what I read she sounded great. I am so incredibly sorry. So, so, so, sorry. I wish you didn’t have to miss Jackie and Maddie. Maddie. Beautiful Maddie Moo. Can’t believe it’s been that long. Can’t believe I’ve allowed myself to be gone for so long. I have so much reading to catch up on.
Charles says:
September marked the 40th missed birthday for Jennifer Leigh. My firstborn who lived with us for only 3 weeks. As I read your post I felt your pain and your love. And shed tears with you. For Maddie, Jackie and Jennifer and all others who hae joined our most terrible exclusive club.
I a strange way I wonder if I love my two living daughters more because I knew and love Jennifer.
amanda says:
sending love to you guys and Miss Maddie from CT..
Allison Zapata says:
hugging you from right here. xo
Auntie_M says:
“….it’s better to feel them and work through them. When I try to suppress them, everything is messier and more difficult….”
Absolutely, sweetheart! Absolutely!!! Suppression & denial are (I would think) harder on your psyche than just facing even the hard-to-admit emotions. And knowing Jackie! (thru you) and her parents (thru you & Jackie’s Caring Bridge spot) I think they would all throw their arms around you in understanding…especially because of how you started this post…laying on your bathroom floor thinking of Jackie!’s mom and wondering if she’s prepared for this, the 1st missed birthday.
I hate that this will be Maddie’s 4th missed birthday tomorrow…and I hate that this will be Jackie!’s 1st missed birthday this month. I can’t believe they are both this month! Ugh!!!
Sending you extra love, hugs, & support during this time.
Oh! And Maddie had excellent taste: once a cream puff lover, ALWAYS a cream puff lover…maybe not for birthday parties with other kids, but I can totally picture it being a special family treat thing. A tradition that’s “your thing you do” no matter how old she got…I’m glad you have it. I may have to go buy cream puffs tomorrow in your Maddie’s honor, if that is ok with you.
xoxo
Brooke says:
I understand this completely. Because my first daughter was stillborn, I find myself “envying” people who got to know their children–even if they had to lose them later. It’s cruelly ironic that the phrase people sometimes use as a means of comfort–“at least you never got to know her”–is actually one of the most painful aspects of losing her. I wish so desperately I had memories of her to hold onto. I loved her as a unique individual and yet no one else can remember her that way. I hate it.
Remembering sweet Maddie with you. Your honesty about grief continues to be an inspiration to so many of us.
Heather says:
I am so stunned anyone would think that was a comforting thing to say! I’m so sorry you have to listen to that. I’m so sorry about your daughter. xoxo
Angela says:
Thinking of you and your family today.
MB says:
Your post helps me, it made me smile in the end. While I may not know what you’re going through, I very recently lost my boyfriend from high school and although we haven’t really spoken or really known each other in years, we were still very close at one point. We both moved on and were dating other people but when he passed away, I found myself experiencing a multitude of emotions; one of which was jealousy. It’s crazy. Am I really jealous of his current girlfriend? Not just her but everyone else that was in his life towards the end and it seems so wrong to feel that way. Like I said, your post made me feel better, maybe it is normal to feel jealousy during the grieving process.