Sharing Parents/Families

We invite you to share your poems, short stories, songs, and other creative gifts to honor special babies.

"My son Tristan Christopher Hoffman was born stillborn on February 27, 2007 due to the umbilical chord being around his neck. I can't begin to describe the pain my husband and I are going through. We are devastated. It is comforting to read your website and hear the stories of other mothers who have experienced the same loss.

"I would like to share a letter I wrote for my son Tristan Christopher H. that I read at his memorial service. I hope it may help or inspire another mother and give her hope."
Nadia H.

To My Son Tristan,

On June 3, 2006 Daddy and I got the news that you were going to come into our world. I can still see the positive pink line on the home pregnancy test and Daddy’s glowing smile when I told him “It’s positive I’m pregnant.” I remember I cried tears of joy and of fear. So many emotions were going through my mind. Oh my gosh I’m going to be a Mom I can’t believe it! Do I have what it takes to raise a child? Will I be a good mother?
After our first doctor’s appointment I felt like I was really a Mom walking out with my new Mommy gift bag full of baby books and supplies. I felt like I was dancing on the clouds. I was ready to take on the challenges of motherhood.

July 18, 2006 at the doctor’s office I heard the most precious sound in the entire world, your heartbeat. The fluttering of your heart was the first real proof that you were truly a gift from God. The next two months as you began to grow so did my morning sickness. I was dizzy, vomiting, and even had black outs. We lived off eating bagels, toast, tea and of coarse ginger. I often wondered if I would ever make it through and sometimes thought is this all going to be worth it. I looked forward to every doctor’s appointment to hear your heart beat which comforted me and made me realize that this journey was all worth it and we were in this together.

It was on the evening of September 20, 2006 when I awoke to a flutter in my stomach! I couldn’t believe it…I felt you kick me for the first time! You were growing and you were strong. The next few months you continued to know when It was time to play…late at night was the most fun for you and for me. I remember when I had some hard days and felt sorry for myself you’d give me a nudge to remind me to snap out of it cheer up I’m here for you Mommy.

November 20, 2006 was your 3D ultra sound. Daddy and I along with your Grandma, and Aunt Nin, found out you were indeed a boy! You looked like a prince. You had your Daddy’s face, chin and nose and my eyes. We then decided to name you Tristan Christopher Hoffman.

For the next few months you grew and grew. It was amazing each time to feel you move, kick, and flutter inside. I remember one evening while lying down on the couch I was playing a video game with your Daddy I rested the remote control to the Xbox on my tummy while playing and the control vibrated and you kicked…then you did it again and again. I jumped up and laughed. Mommy and Daddy couldn’t stop laughing at you. We knew you just wanted to come out and play Xbox with us.

You loved your Daddy so much. Every time Daddy talked to my tummy and said, “I love you Tristan” “How are you today Tristan” you always kicked and moved to let him know that you heard him and that you were fine.

You loved to listen to music. I played classical music and baby lullabies to help you sleep. You even liked to dance around to Mommy’s dance music and Daddy’s rock music I think Kiss was your favorite. I even played “Nadia’s Theme” for you one time. I could feel you were listening. You were so quite through the entire song then when it stopped I felt you kick and flutter. You even liked when Mommy sang karaoke sometimes I could feel you move and kick like you were singing along with me.

You loved to be read to. At Christmas I read to you the story “The Night Before Christmas.” You also loved to hear your puppies Mindy Sue and Scamper bark. One morning while lying in bed with Mindy Sue she started barking and you couldn’t stop kicking me. I know you were trying to tell me to please shut her up because you were trying to sleep!

As February approach Mommy and Daddy were so anxious to see you. We talked all the time about what it would be like to see you and hold you for the first time. We wondered what color hair you would have. What color eyes. What kind of cry you would have. We couldn’t wait for the moment to finally look at you and hold you in our arms.

February 25, 2007 was a lonely day for Mommy. I didn’t feel you move inside me. No kicking, no fluttering. I wondered if you were sleeping getting ready for your big arrival. But we found out the next day that your heart stopped beating and you were at peace.

February 27, 2007 was the hardest day of my life. I had to give birth to your death. I went through the day wondering if this was for real or if I was dreaming. Your Daddy was my rock. He was an amazing coach. Grandma, Grandpa, Aunt Nin, Uncle Bryan, and Grammy were all there for Mommy, Daddy and you. The hardest part during your delivery was listening to the silence in my room and then hearing a baby cry in the room next door and knowing it was not you.

Words can’t describe how much I miss you my precious baby boy. I wonder what it would be like to have you here to hold you, to talk to you, kiss you. I can only hold on to the wonderful 9 months that you and I experienced together. You were there for me and I was there for you. You are loved and I know you felt the love of your family. You will always hold a special place in my heart forever. You are my son and my first-born child and Mommy and Daddy will never forget you. One day you will have a brother or sister and they will know how special their big brother Tristan was. You’ll always live in our hearts and I will carry these memories with me forever.

I love you Tristan

Mommy

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."