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I'll miss your posts, Janis. After my son died, a good friend wrote that he hoped God would keep my son's spirit, whose purpose on earth was apparently achieved so quickly. Simultaneously soothing to me, that this was not a meaningless death, but also frightening--what if I never found out what the purpose was, and therefore never carried it out? I did not become a better person for his death, indeed, in many ways I became *less* of a person--angrier, meaner, smaller.

I had no idea sites like this one existed. Online communities like this existed. Until this week. It's like a secret club for wounded hearts. My beautiful daughter, Elodie, died 25 days ago. She was full-term (39 weeks) and all of a sudden no heartbeat. She died from a knot in the cord. I saw it clear as day when she came out. I am still in shock and haven't returned to work yet. Just numb. At the same time crazy, crazy anxious to try to get pregnant again as soon as our six week waiting period is up. Is this normal? Did anyone feel the same way?

Oh, yes,yes. Everything you said. When we found out that AdiaRose had trisomy 13 I was relieved to have a definative answer as to why she died, because I was so sure it was all my fault. My next feeling was one of great protectiveness towards her, for exactly the reasons you described. I think my exact words to my darling husband were; "If anybody says to me that it's better this way I will KICK them. Really hard. I am so sick of neurotypical people treating people with disabilities like they are less than, like their lives have less value.

Well, I definitely agree with everyone else, telling me to relax at this point is pretty much pointless and rude. I think people think it makes it better that our son had a horrible birth defect, like ohhhh, it was for the best and what are the chances of that happening again? Well, stupid person, I guess it's not that high but it has completely opened our eyes to the fact that not all babies come home and that's a little stressful. So f*** off.

I'm sorry about your Gabbie, and you're right, it is sickening to think about...I wish none of us had to do this! My Grace was born at 21 weeks and she was alive for a short while...while we were holding her, we had to watch her struggle to breathe becuase her little lungs weren't developed enough and we and the doctors were helpless to do anything. In my nightmares, I imagine that it felt like piercing pain to her tiny, frail body and it makes my heart ache...

Tomorrow is Nina's birthday and deathday, hatching and dispatching if you will. She would have been 4. I don't feel sorry for her. I'm relieved she got spared the agony which would have been her life on earth with trisomy 13. I like to believe that, according to my "faith", she is a happy angel somewhere with wings and a whole body. I like to believe we will be re-united oneday. But my perception of faith has changed for ever. In four years I haven't decided what to make of it. Yet.

I'm curious, did you go online at all to search for similar stories and/or find support after Pudding's death?

Angie--Such an interesting post. Your way with words is amazing and definitely sends my mind off to thinking about wonderful things. But also, reading your readers' comments. It is all so encouraging to read how other BLMs regard their little ones' spirits. I have become much more spiritual and less religious since Chase died and yearn so badly for some sign, some point of contact, something nearly tangible, if I could.

This is a beautiful, much needed post. I think too often, we are afraid to feel anything but the deep sadness that comes from losing a child. I admit that in the beginning, if I found something funny and laughed - I felt guilty about it. I felt that I didn't have the right to laugh anymore. I thought that I "needed" to be sad. For the longest time, I wallowed in the depths of darkness because I didn't know what else to do.