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A Mother's Story
Lecie E.

Another Christmas will soon be here, another year of toys and family. Our family is not complete, however because a very special person will not attend yet another get together. Our sweet daughter, Kayleen, will not be here to break her big brother's new toys, nor will her eyes light up a to seeing her own presents. She is three years old and to me she will always be an infant. I never saw her take her first steps or say her first words. She died with only a whisper of breath on her lips. Her big brother Louis does not like to talk about her, I think it makes him sad! I don't think he remembers her much, but he sees that I am sad and he doesn't want to see his mommy cry. Her daddy is like a mighty oak tree, always stable and sure. He hides his feelings and pain so well that even when the winds blow, the leaves only slightly rustle. I have no such will or strength.

When I remember, I hurt and I cry. I had always wanted a little girl, to put ribbons in her hair and clothe her in frilly dresses. I already had my little man, who is such a joy to me every time I see him. Now all I wanted was a daughter. She was so small and delicate, I remember not wanting to be awake when she was born, so I would not have to watch her die. I had no choice in the matter. She wanted out to see the world, not knowing she would never see it. There are times when I want only to join her, then I remember her brother and I have to stay for him. He is my world. When I held her it was my first and last time. She was still warm from our lives together within me. She reminded me of a little water balloon.

So small were her fingers and toes with only muscle attached to them and no bones for support. Her face was so angelic and pure that not even a cry could be heard from her body. And when I really needed my partner's arms for support, because I was truly alone for the first time in seven and a half months, he was gone - drowning his own sorrows. The mighty oak swayed only once and I was not there to help him. I couldn't even help myself. The day she was buried I entered the funeral home and was tortured at seeing her coffin, it was like a small shoe box waiting to be laid to rest.

Even then the reality did not enter my mind. When we got her to her new home deep within Mother Earth, I looked at her coffin and they said it was time to go. I wanted to stay with her. When I turned my back to her to leave, it felt as though I had betrayed her by leaving her there alone. The pain lessens a little each day. I just wish we all had a chance to get to know her even just a little. Then maybe things wouldn't be so truly hard.

Lecie
"It took be four years to get up the courage to write this story. Empty Arms helped me cope with this heart wrenching time in my life. I now hope my story helps others."

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Last modified: April 12, 2012