My wife and I just received this beautiful letter in the mail, handwritten. Needless to say, we are extremely touched:
July 5, 2009
Dear Michael + Deanna,
Thanks for your company on the pilgrimage. Most of all, thanks for the inspiration of Matthew Sean's footprints. I was very moved.
Now I must make a confession: I had the honor the morning we departed Rome to offer a private Mass in the grotto at the tomb of St. Peter. There, in the crevice with his bones, I dropped the pendant, placing Matthew Sean's footprints tenderly, so he may be close to the Prince of the Apostles and Keeper of the Keys. I hope you understand. Selfishly, I wanted to keep it, but thought this reverent gesture would mean more to you and the baby.
Everytime you see St. Peter's Basilica, know that your baby's footprints are there with Peter.
Love,
Timothy M. Dolan
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Tuesday, June 30, 2009
It's Time for an Update
I'm pretty sure that several months ago I shared the story about the retreat I had to direct last year--the one where I talked a lot about the Gospel story of the "Storm at Sea". Within days of that retreat, I faced my own "Storm at Sea" with my wife when we lost our son.
Since then, I've on and off dreaded Father's Day.
Well, Father's Day has come and gone, but I thought I'd share what happened that day. I was sitting in Mass, trying not to think about Father's Day, when the Gospel reading was read. The reading was... the Storm at Sea.
Today, a couple of weeks later, while on a pilgrimage with Archbishop Dolan and 150 others in Rome, Italy, my wife and I decided to give our Archbishop a piece of jewelry that had the footprints of our son engraved in it as a thanksgiving for his fight for the unborn. We also left the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, an envelope with the same. We had each worn the jewelry since last year. It felt like the thing to do, so we did.
A short time later, we were in Mass, and guess what Gospel reading was read?
...the Storm at Sea.
Since then, I've on and off dreaded Father's Day.
Well, Father's Day has come and gone, but I thought I'd share what happened that day. I was sitting in Mass, trying not to think about Father's Day, when the Gospel reading was read. The reading was... the Storm at Sea.
Today, a couple of weeks later, while on a pilgrimage with Archbishop Dolan and 150 others in Rome, Italy, my wife and I decided to give our Archbishop a piece of jewelry that had the footprints of our son engraved in it as a thanksgiving for his fight for the unborn. We also left the Holy Father, Pope Benedict XVI, an envelope with the same. We had each worn the jewelry since last year. It felt like the thing to do, so we did.
A short time later, we were in Mass, and guess what Gospel reading was read?
...the Storm at Sea.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
People Say the Darndest Things
Thought I'd take a few moments to add a post. Over the past couple of weeks, I've encountered dozens of people that have shared their own stories with me.
First, it's amazing how many wives and husbands have gone through this. Officially, the doctor put the number at around 15%. I believe the number may be higher though, because out of my closest friends, they've ALL gone through the loss of a pregnancy.
Second, every now and then, people say things that may make you more upset than consoled. Just remember, they mean well. I've heard so many times about trying for another child. Try again. Try again. In a way, the people are right--do try again. However, that doesn't take away the loss you just suffered. That's a pain that takes time to heal, and trying for another child won't heal the pain of losing what you've just lost.
And finally, I have to talk about my sister. I'm getting the impression that she feels guilty--she's expecting her 2nd child in a couple of months. I remember when I was telling friends and family that my wife and I were expecting earlier this year, I was hesitant to tell some that have suffered losing pregnancies. I remember a guilty feeling. I'll never feel that way again though, because after going through this, I know that I am extremely happy for my sister and others that are expecting. I think it's just one of those things that you have to go through to understand.
By the way, I've learned over the past couple of weeks that God is guiding us. He's blessed us in a bunch of ways as we pick up the pieces. I don't understand some things-- I still have some questions for Him, but I know He's with me and guiding me along, and for that I'm thankful.
Time for some breakfast again!
First, it's amazing how many wives and husbands have gone through this. Officially, the doctor put the number at around 15%. I believe the number may be higher though, because out of my closest friends, they've ALL gone through the loss of a pregnancy.
Second, every now and then, people say things that may make you more upset than consoled. Just remember, they mean well. I've heard so many times about trying for another child. Try again. Try again. In a way, the people are right--do try again. However, that doesn't take away the loss you just suffered. That's a pain that takes time to heal, and trying for another child won't heal the pain of losing what you've just lost.
And finally, I have to talk about my sister. I'm getting the impression that she feels guilty--she's expecting her 2nd child in a couple of months. I remember when I was telling friends and family that my wife and I were expecting earlier this year, I was hesitant to tell some that have suffered losing pregnancies. I remember a guilty feeling. I'll never feel that way again though, because after going through this, I know that I am extremely happy for my sister and others that are expecting. I think it's just one of those things that you have to go through to understand.
By the way, I've learned over the past couple of weeks that God is guiding us. He's blessed us in a bunch of ways as we pick up the pieces. I don't understand some things-- I still have some questions for Him, but I know He's with me and guiding me along, and for that I'm thankful.
Time for some breakfast again!
Saturday, September 6, 2008
This is the story...
In the beginning...
Our journey began on June 10, 2008. We boarded the Carnival Victory, and needless to say, we brought home a souvenir. Most people bring home photos and mugs from vacations. My wife and I brought home something so much better. Something that would forever change our lives. Technically, we didn't know we had a stowaway just yet.
Pray for who???
On Sunday, June 29th, I was going through my "routine" prayers, as I have tried to do on a regular basis. I'm a pretty prayerful guy- I work for the Catholic church, I love my faith, and I find that life is easier when I'm living a more prayerful life.
So it was Sunday night, and as I'm going through my prayers, I suddenly felt the need to pray for my wife and the baby. Now that wouldn't be a big deal, assuming I had been told that my wife was expecting, but she hadn't taken any pregnancy tests, so she certainly didn't tell me we were expecting. I just KNEW that I had to pray for this baby.
The next day, the same feeling came over me. "Pray for the baby." So I did. I felt a little weird doing it, but I prayed for the baby that might exist. Pregnancy tests... who needs 'em?
Look what I got for my birthday!
On Tuesday, July 1st, my wife and I were in New York City. We talked about the possibility of being pregnant, but it was too soon to test. Maybe in a couple more days, we'll take a test.
Little did I know, that my bride of 3 years took a test the previous day and didn't share the results with me. After taking care of an errand, I met up with my wife and niece at a sidewalk restaurant in NYC. She handed me a box and said, "Look what I got for my birthday." So, figuring the box had a gift from my niece to my wife for her birthday, which was a couple of weeks earlier, I opened it to look, and saw a bunch of baby items-- pacifiers, shoes etc. It took about a hundredth of a second for me to catch on... I'm going to be a daddy!
Fasting and Prayer
I made the decision early on that I would offer every Friday as a day of fasting for my baby and wife--just a little sacrifice, a form of prayer, so that my wife and baby would stay healthy. Over time, I started thinking that my fasting wasn't necessary--especially as things progressed well. I figured that prayer was enough, so I slowly started to allow myself to give up fasting. The praying never stopped. I wanted to make sure my wife and baby were safe and healthy, so I prayed a lot for them. On my more brave days, I even asked that any hardships destined for them be given to me instead.
A Scare Early On
About seven weeks into our pregnancy, my wife began spotting. Although it was scary, it also did one thing which was nice- it allowed us to have a couple of additional ultrasounds, so we could see our little guy growing. Watching his heart beating at about 160 beats per minute brought us instant peace, and being able to watch that on several different occasions was nice, although nerve-wracking as well.
Each time we went to the doctor's office, we were told that everything was going well, so we were pretty much at peace. The last visit to the office, the doctor said, "Everything is perfect." Just a week later, everything went bad.
Then Began a Horrible Week
It started over the weekend. My wife had some spotting, accompanied by some cramping on Monday. Having spotting alone or cramping alone isn't too unusual in a pregnancy. The body is growing, and sometimes that brings a little bit of blood or pain. But when you have the 2 together, that's an issue that has to be watched very carefully.
So on Monday, September 1st, Labor Day, we called the doctor's office and explained the symptoms. The doctor said to head to the emergency room to get checked. At the emergency room, my wife got a complete check over, and everything seemed fine. The one question mark was in her blood test, which showed her white blood cell count was high. When that happens, it usually means there's an infection somewhere. Another ultrasound was given, and everything seemed fine. So we were sent home and told to followup with our doctor the next day.
The next day came, and around 6am, my wife was again having spotting and cramping, this time more painful. We immediately jumped in the car and started heading towards the emergency room. After calling the doctor's office, the doctor told us to skip the hospital and come see her instead. While there, we had another ultrasound, and everything seemed fine... until we met the doctor after the test. It was then that she told us the cervix had thinned in the past day--and she told us there was probably nothing they could do to stop losing the pregnancy.
I was glad she wasn't sugar-coating this. My wife and I started to cry in her office, and in our heads, we started thinking about planning for a baptism and funeral. The doctor said we could either go home with antibiotics or be admitted into the hospital, and we both agreed the hospital was the best choice.
Several hours later, my wife was in the hospital and was on antibiotics. During the day, we noticed a slight fever, although the cramping and spotting had slowed. Maybe we were given our miracle?
At this point, I was being dogged not only by fears of losing my baby, but of losing my wife as well. I knew something was wrong, I was hearing there was an infection somewhere, but I didn't know what the outcome would be, and that scared the heck out of me. She was acting perfectly normal, but was there something I should worry about?
Later that night, with my wife seemingly stable, I went home to get some things, then went to sleep at my job, which was closer to the hospital. A little after 4:00am that morning, I got a text message from my wife that the spotting and cramping was back. Within a few minutes, I was in my car and heading for the hospital. Along the way, she sent me another text that things weren't good, and she wanted me to get there.
When I arrived, the nurses had just begun moving my wife to a private room. My wife was having severe cramps and bleeding now, so we both knew it was only a matter of time. In fact, she was having full contractions--contractions that were getting closer together. She was even feeling the pain through some strong pain medications. My wife was in labor.
And then it happened--she made her final trip to the restroom in writhing pain. Our son was delivered at around 7:15am. It was done--it felt like a nightmare, but it was done.
Our Baby Boy
One of our nurses cried with us, the rest of the nurses were extremely compassionate. A short time later, they offered to bring our baby in to us. I was hesitant, but my wife wanted to see him, so I went along. Being able to hold our son was such a gift that I will always be thankful for. Most people that lose their pregnancies don't have that chance--we were given a great gift to hold our baby, to look at his features--we were able to bond with our boy.
A short time later, a Catholic priest came in and baptized our baby, something else most people don't get a chance to do. We decided to give our boy the name we always leaned towards-- Matthew Sean. And that was another thing-- we KNEW he was a boy before anyone told us. We've known all along that our baby was a boy. We didn't need someone to tell us--they told us that morning, but they just confirmed what we had already known.
The next day, we met with the funeral home director, and the following day, we buried our baby boy. Our baby is buried in the same plot as my brother, and will be in the section of plots where my parents will be someday, and where 2 of my grandparents are. It comforts my wife and me that he is with family now, both physically and spiritually.
The next step is to order a headstone. What we've decided to do though is include the unborn babies from my whole family. Matthew was the 6th baby born too soon. We were the only lucky ones to be able to hold him, look at him, have him baptized, and bury him.
I was crying a lot the entire time. In fact, I don't think I have ever suffered such heart ache. I had been told years ago from a friend how having a child changes your life. During my wife's pregnancy, I tried to be a good husband, and I did a lot of praying for my wife and baby. But I didn't feel that bond with my son until he was delivered, and from that point on, I just wanted to protect him.
Monday of this week was bad-- we knew what may be coming. Tuesday was worse, we knew what probably was coming. Wednesday was the worst, our baby didn't make it. Thursday was no better. Friday, we buried our boy, and then my wife and I took off for Atlantic City--just to run away for a day.
We still cry. Our hearts still ache. Five days later, we are crying less, but things get us started, and we know it's going to be like that for a long time. Maybe today will be a good day... and tomorrow, and the next day. We know that we're not done crying though, and we both know it will take a long time to heal, and we may even need help along the way. Our marriage? I'd say our marriage is even stronger today--we didn't really need help in that category. We both work hard on our marriage.
I do have questions. I wonder if I gave up too soon on fasting. I wonder if I didn't pray enough. I wonder if I should have brought that relic of St. Gerard to my wife in the hospital, instead of waiting til Wednesday. I wonder if I didn't help enough around the house, and maybe my wife picked up some bug or something that gave her the infection. My wife, I know, is torturing herself as well. I know, and we've been told, that we may never have the answers as to why this happened. I've talked with family members and friends that have gone through this--they don't know why any of us have gone through it, but they share our pain.
The questions... they remain. Every now and then, though, we feel a glimmer of hope. While we miss our son horribly, which is making me cry as I type this, who's to say that we won't conceive again? The thought doesn't take away the grieving, but it does give us hope.
Going On
On September 15th, we have a previously planned doctor's office visit. It was originally scheduled to continue the usual pregnancy checkups. Now, its purpose is to hopefully give us some answers.
In the coming days and weeks, we're going to plant a tree in our yard and dedicate it to our son, Matthew Sean. We're also going to order his headstone, and we're going to add 5 angels to the stone in memory of my five siblings, neices and nephews that weren't able to grow enough before being born. Hopefully, sometime soon I'll be able to laugh again. For now, I just have to accept my slowed-crying as a step towards healing, although I know there will be bad days ahead.
I've almost always been a faithful guy, so maybe that's why I'm thankful that we were able to hold our baby--I wonder if we were destined to lose our pregnancy weeks earlier, but maybe God gave us a few more weeks so we would be able to hold him.
I do have questions for God, questions that won't be answered until I meet Him face to face. I want to know why He would have us KNOW we were pregnant, and with a boy. Why torture us with this bonding only to take it away. Just last weekend, I directed a retreat where I told participants that in time of trial, keep your eyes on the Lord, using the Gospel about the storm at sea. I didn't expect that I would need that advice myself just days later, but I know its true. Part of me wants to punish God for the pain He's caused, by skipping Mass this morning, but I know that won't do any good. Now's the time when I need Him most.
As I told my wife, I hope that someday Matt can come and visit me in my dreams. I already miss him. In the meantime, all I can say is:
Our journey began on June 10, 2008. We boarded the Carnival Victory, and needless to say, we brought home a souvenir. Most people bring home photos and mugs from vacations. My wife and I brought home something so much better. Something that would forever change our lives. Technically, we didn't know we had a stowaway just yet.
Pray for who???
On Sunday, June 29th, I was going through my "routine" prayers, as I have tried to do on a regular basis. I'm a pretty prayerful guy- I work for the Catholic church, I love my faith, and I find that life is easier when I'm living a more prayerful life.
So it was Sunday night, and as I'm going through my prayers, I suddenly felt the need to pray for my wife and the baby. Now that wouldn't be a big deal, assuming I had been told that my wife was expecting, but she hadn't taken any pregnancy tests, so she certainly didn't tell me we were expecting. I just KNEW that I had to pray for this baby.
The next day, the same feeling came over me. "Pray for the baby." So I did. I felt a little weird doing it, but I prayed for the baby that might exist. Pregnancy tests... who needs 'em?
Look what I got for my birthday!
On Tuesday, July 1st, my wife and I were in New York City. We talked about the possibility of being pregnant, but it was too soon to test. Maybe in a couple more days, we'll take a test.
Little did I know, that my bride of 3 years took a test the previous day and didn't share the results with me. After taking care of an errand, I met up with my wife and niece at a sidewalk restaurant in NYC. She handed me a box and said, "Look what I got for my birthday." So, figuring the box had a gift from my niece to my wife for her birthday, which was a couple of weeks earlier, I opened it to look, and saw a bunch of baby items-- pacifiers, shoes etc. It took about a hundredth of a second for me to catch on... I'm going to be a daddy!
Fasting and Prayer
I made the decision early on that I would offer every Friday as a day of fasting for my baby and wife--just a little sacrifice, a form of prayer, so that my wife and baby would stay healthy. Over time, I started thinking that my fasting wasn't necessary--especially as things progressed well. I figured that prayer was enough, so I slowly started to allow myself to give up fasting. The praying never stopped. I wanted to make sure my wife and baby were safe and healthy, so I prayed a lot for them. On my more brave days, I even asked that any hardships destined for them be given to me instead.
A Scare Early On
About seven weeks into our pregnancy, my wife began spotting. Although it was scary, it also did one thing which was nice- it allowed us to have a couple of additional ultrasounds, so we could see our little guy growing. Watching his heart beating at about 160 beats per minute brought us instant peace, and being able to watch that on several different occasions was nice, although nerve-wracking as well.
Each time we went to the doctor's office, we were told that everything was going well, so we were pretty much at peace. The last visit to the office, the doctor said, "Everything is perfect." Just a week later, everything went bad.
Then Began a Horrible Week
It started over the weekend. My wife had some spotting, accompanied by some cramping on Monday. Having spotting alone or cramping alone isn't too unusual in a pregnancy. The body is growing, and sometimes that brings a little bit of blood or pain. But when you have the 2 together, that's an issue that has to be watched very carefully.
So on Monday, September 1st, Labor Day, we called the doctor's office and explained the symptoms. The doctor said to head to the emergency room to get checked. At the emergency room, my wife got a complete check over, and everything seemed fine. The one question mark was in her blood test, which showed her white blood cell count was high. When that happens, it usually means there's an infection somewhere. Another ultrasound was given, and everything seemed fine. So we were sent home and told to followup with our doctor the next day.
The next day came, and around 6am, my wife was again having spotting and cramping, this time more painful. We immediately jumped in the car and started heading towards the emergency room. After calling the doctor's office, the doctor told us to skip the hospital and come see her instead. While there, we had another ultrasound, and everything seemed fine... until we met the doctor after the test. It was then that she told us the cervix had thinned in the past day--and she told us there was probably nothing they could do to stop losing the pregnancy.
I was glad she wasn't sugar-coating this. My wife and I started to cry in her office, and in our heads, we started thinking about planning for a baptism and funeral. The doctor said we could either go home with antibiotics or be admitted into the hospital, and we both agreed the hospital was the best choice.
Several hours later, my wife was in the hospital and was on antibiotics. During the day, we noticed a slight fever, although the cramping and spotting had slowed. Maybe we were given our miracle?
At this point, I was being dogged not only by fears of losing my baby, but of losing my wife as well. I knew something was wrong, I was hearing there was an infection somewhere, but I didn't know what the outcome would be, and that scared the heck out of me. She was acting perfectly normal, but was there something I should worry about?
Later that night, with my wife seemingly stable, I went home to get some things, then went to sleep at my job, which was closer to the hospital. A little after 4:00am that morning, I got a text message from my wife that the spotting and cramping was back. Within a few minutes, I was in my car and heading for the hospital. Along the way, she sent me another text that things weren't good, and she wanted me to get there.
When I arrived, the nurses had just begun moving my wife to a private room. My wife was having severe cramps and bleeding now, so we both knew it was only a matter of time. In fact, she was having full contractions--contractions that were getting closer together. She was even feeling the pain through some strong pain medications. My wife was in labor.
And then it happened--she made her final trip to the restroom in writhing pain. Our son was delivered at around 7:15am. It was done--it felt like a nightmare, but it was done.
Our Baby Boy
One of our nurses cried with us, the rest of the nurses were extremely compassionate. A short time later, they offered to bring our baby in to us. I was hesitant, but my wife wanted to see him, so I went along. Being able to hold our son was such a gift that I will always be thankful for. Most people that lose their pregnancies don't have that chance--we were given a great gift to hold our baby, to look at his features--we were able to bond with our boy.
A short time later, a Catholic priest came in and baptized our baby, something else most people don't get a chance to do. We decided to give our boy the name we always leaned towards-- Matthew Sean. And that was another thing-- we KNEW he was a boy before anyone told us. We've known all along that our baby was a boy. We didn't need someone to tell us--they told us that morning, but they just confirmed what we had already known.
The next day, we met with the funeral home director, and the following day, we buried our baby boy. Our baby is buried in the same plot as my brother, and will be in the section of plots where my parents will be someday, and where 2 of my grandparents are. It comforts my wife and me that he is with family now, both physically and spiritually.
The next step is to order a headstone. What we've decided to do though is include the unborn babies from my whole family. Matthew was the 6th baby born too soon. We were the only lucky ones to be able to hold him, look at him, have him baptized, and bury him.
I was crying a lot the entire time. In fact, I don't think I have ever suffered such heart ache. I had been told years ago from a friend how having a child changes your life. During my wife's pregnancy, I tried to be a good husband, and I did a lot of praying for my wife and baby. But I didn't feel that bond with my son until he was delivered, and from that point on, I just wanted to protect him.
Monday of this week was bad-- we knew what may be coming. Tuesday was worse, we knew what probably was coming. Wednesday was the worst, our baby didn't make it. Thursday was no better. Friday, we buried our boy, and then my wife and I took off for Atlantic City--just to run away for a day.
We still cry. Our hearts still ache. Five days later, we are crying less, but things get us started, and we know it's going to be like that for a long time. Maybe today will be a good day... and tomorrow, and the next day. We know that we're not done crying though, and we both know it will take a long time to heal, and we may even need help along the way. Our marriage? I'd say our marriage is even stronger today--we didn't really need help in that category. We both work hard on our marriage.
I do have questions. I wonder if I gave up too soon on fasting. I wonder if I didn't pray enough. I wonder if I should have brought that relic of St. Gerard to my wife in the hospital, instead of waiting til Wednesday. I wonder if I didn't help enough around the house, and maybe my wife picked up some bug or something that gave her the infection. My wife, I know, is torturing herself as well. I know, and we've been told, that we may never have the answers as to why this happened. I've talked with family members and friends that have gone through this--they don't know why any of us have gone through it, but they share our pain.
The questions... they remain. Every now and then, though, we feel a glimmer of hope. While we miss our son horribly, which is making me cry as I type this, who's to say that we won't conceive again? The thought doesn't take away the grieving, but it does give us hope.
Going On
On September 15th, we have a previously planned doctor's office visit. It was originally scheduled to continue the usual pregnancy checkups. Now, its purpose is to hopefully give us some answers.
In the coming days and weeks, we're going to plant a tree in our yard and dedicate it to our son, Matthew Sean. We're also going to order his headstone, and we're going to add 5 angels to the stone in memory of my five siblings, neices and nephews that weren't able to grow enough before being born. Hopefully, sometime soon I'll be able to laugh again. For now, I just have to accept my slowed-crying as a step towards healing, although I know there will be bad days ahead.
I've almost always been a faithful guy, so maybe that's why I'm thankful that we were able to hold our baby--I wonder if we were destined to lose our pregnancy weeks earlier, but maybe God gave us a few more weeks so we would be able to hold him.
I do have questions for God, questions that won't be answered until I meet Him face to face. I want to know why He would have us KNOW we were pregnant, and with a boy. Why torture us with this bonding only to take it away. Just last weekend, I directed a retreat where I told participants that in time of trial, keep your eyes on the Lord, using the Gospel about the storm at sea. I didn't expect that I would need that advice myself just days later, but I know its true. Part of me wants to punish God for the pain He's caused, by skipping Mass this morning, but I know that won't do any good. Now's the time when I need Him most.
As I told my wife, I hope that someday Matt can come and visit me in my dreams. I already miss him. In the meantime, all I can say is:
I love you my little boy, and I already miss you. I don't know if you know this, but I knew about you before anyone told me. I wish I could hold you more. Your mom and I tried, and I think we would have given you a good life. I hope you have a great life now, and if you can, visit us in our dreams until we're able to hold you again.
I'm crying again. You may be too. But as I type this, I know that my heart aches... but I just heard a nice sound. It was my stomach growling--I'm hungry. I had to force myself to eat a few days ago. Right now, I'm hungry.
Where Do We Go From Here?
I don't know. I don't know if I've just typed my last entry to this blog. I'm thinking I'll probably give an update somewhere down the road. It may be a few hours, or days, or weeks or months. In the meantime, feel free to leave a comment yourself. And if this can somehow bring healing to another daddy out there, let him know about it.
For now, it's time for some breakfast.
I don't know. I don't know if I've just typed my last entry to this blog. I'm thinking I'll probably give an update somewhere down the road. It may be a few hours, or days, or weeks or months. In the meantime, feel free to leave a comment yourself. And if this can somehow bring healing to another daddy out there, let him know about it.
For now, it's time for some breakfast.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
