Untitled – No Words

This past weekend, my wife & I have endured an event so tragic, we are still having difficulty coming to grasps with the reality of it.  I don’t ever expect the pain we now feel to disappear.

On Saturday, our midwife came by for a visit to check on Darcy who was having extremely itchy feet.  As part of a normal visit, they also listen to the baby’s heartbeat.  I’ve found that mothers to be always enjoy that interaction.  They find it so comforting.

But Sara couldn’t find it. 

We made our way over to St. Paul’s and where we proceeded to search for his heartbeat.  It wasn’t there.  Neither the fetal heart monitor, nor an ultrasound could find it.

Darcy knew before I did.  Maybe I just wanted to ignore what was so clearly in front of me.  The horror of knowing your son is dead before you’ve even had an opportunity to meet him is …

…no word can explain that feeling.

The pain you feel is at times overwhelming… the days ahead seem to have no purpose.  Logic and reason mean nothing.

The gross horror of the moment, coupled with the horrific decisions you now need to face are simply inconceivable.  When only shortly before, we were talking about him and guessing at what his personality was, and who he took after… what colour his hair would be. 

No, no, no, no… is all you’re saying or thinking.  You don’t want to accept it as truth.  You don’t want to believe. You want to wake up it all be a bad dream

I had a nightmare a few weeks ago that my son fell off a boat while we were on a lake.  I was already in the water and dove down to get him.  He was out of my reach, but I wouldn’t give up.. I couldn’t…  I loved him so much, I had to save him.  I had no air, but I wouldn’t stop… and I got him.  I saved him.  He was going to be okay.

I couldn’t save him from this.  There was nothing that I could do.  Nothing and it’s horrible to know that you couln’t protect him.  And I didn’t even get the opportunity to do it.

I am very proud of my wife.  She is so beautiful and strong.  I cannot imagine the feelings you’d have and the strength you’d need to give birth to your son who you know is not breathing.  Who you had felt kicking you less that a day before.  Who you’ve already grown such a beautiful connection with through the eight months he’s been with you.

Axel Corey Reid Carriveau was born Sunday morning at 7:00am.  He was 3lbs 1oz and 43 centimeters long, with thick brown hair.  He was so beautiful.  So perfect.  We love him so much.

He looked just like his 3D photos.  Exactly like them.

Darcy & I got to spend some time with him.  At first you think that seeing him would be so horrible, knowing that he’s not alive.  But you have to, I couldn’t imagine leaving him there and not even saying hello.  I will always cherish that time the three of us spent together.  My beautiful son, my beautiful wife.

They gave us some keepsakes from the hospital for us to remember him.  His birth card, imprints of his hands and feet, and a few locks of his hair.

He was such a pretty, beautiful baby.  So perfect, and so perfect for us.

me and my beautiful wife