It’s been 6 months since Rogan was born/died today. Sometimes I can’t believe that the time has passed so quickly and sometimes it seems like it was a lifetime ago. Part of me still can’t believe we lost our baby boy. He was so perfect and beautiful and it overwhelms me that I don’t have him to hold in my arms.
I used to spend a lot of time thinking – on this date he would be such and such age or doing such and such thing. Now I think I’ve become more detached from it and just feel a little sad that we didn’t get to be with him. I don’t really measure the time like I used to. I know my husband thinks about all the things he would have done with him and now won’t get to do.
I always wonder if there was a way we could have caught on to the cervical issue sooner, but my doctor swears not. Of course, I’ll never know if he’s just saying that to protect me or if it’s true.
My family gave us a bench with the most wonderful saying on it…
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- Rogan’s Bench
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- Rogan’s Garden
Sometimes I go back there and sit to think about life, death and what our purpose here is….If I ever get the answer I’ll be sure to post it.
And for all those mothers out there who have experienced a pregnancy loss, I found this poem to be truly meaningful to me….
My Mom Is A Survivor
My Mom is a survivor, or so I’ve heard it said.
But I hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.
She doesn’t know I’m with her to help her understand.
But like the sands on the beach that never wash away…
I watch over my surviving mom, who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others…a smile of disguise.
But through Heaven’s door I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mom tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her knows it is her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom…through Heaven’s open door.
I try to tell her that angels protect me forever more.
But I know that doesn’t help her or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her…And show her that you care.
For no matter what she says…no matter what she feels.
My surviving mom has a broken heart that time won’t ever heal~!This poem was written by Kaye Des’Ormeaux
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