Child Loss

Child Loss: The Pain Cannot Be Described

I held him in my arms.  His little body was perfect.  I pulled him up close to me and we sat cheek to cheek.  I kissed his tiny little head a thousand times and more.  I held his tiny little fingers and just kept touching them lightly against my lips.  I took his precious little feet and fit them into the palm of my hand and ever so gently closed my fingers around each tiny toe counting to make sure there were five on each small foot.

And, then I felt my body fold into a million broken pieces as I rocked back and forth, my body shaking in pain knowing my son would never open his eyes and look into mine.  He would never nestle up against my warm body and nurse from my breasts that longed to give him nourishment.  He would never feel my hands tenderly holding his face as I whispered over and over again, “I love you so much.  I love you more than life itself.  You are precious and wonderful in every way.  You are a miracle — my miracle — and I want to have you as part of my life forever.”

baby-feetThe news of a baby was welcome news!  Our family was thrilled and we were anxiously awaiting the arrival of this little miracle.  The pregnancy was wonderful and wonder-filled!  I can’t tell you how special I felt to be chosen by God to be the mother of this tiny little miracle!  I felt honored, humbled, and I vowed to do all within my power to be a caring, giving, loving mother who honored God with my all. I promised God I would teach my child of Him and His ways, and my child would know how to pray and be thankful.

Around the 25th week of pregnancy I felt a bit weird.  I don’t know how to explain it other than “a feeling” that something wasn’t quite right.  I still felt the baby kicking, but not with the vigor that he had been using just a couple of weeks before.  My doctor’s appointment was normal except………….the doctor was a bit concerned that I wasn’t quite measuring where I should have been.  But, all else seemed well, and I went home to continue to dream about this precious new addition to our family.

In less than two weeks, I was back in the doctor’s office — this time with grave concerns because I wasn’t quite sure I was feeling movement.  I couldn’t tell.

I drew a long, deep breath as the doctor searched for a heartbeat. I squeezed my eyes shut waiting to hear the “thump-thump-thump” of the heart beating.  “Please, God.  Please let me hear that sound of my little miracle inside of me.”

Samuel Adam Hinton had died.  His heart stopped beating, and there was never a reason given.  For almost three weeks I carried that little baby inside of me knowing he was not living.  My doctor thought it was best for me to go into “spontaneous labor” rather than be induced.  While I would never wish that experience on anyone, that time was a gift for me because it allowed me time to begin my grieving without fully letting go.  I kept praying for a miracle — begging God for his little heart to start beating again.

It never did.  Samuel heart laid still within my womb. My precious baby boy.  My beautiful little child was dead.

Four days after Mother’s Day — on a bright, sunshiny Thursday morning I went into labor.  The nurses and doctors were wonderful.  They cried with me.  Who knows what to say when a baby dies?  There are no words.  None.  What can bring comfort to a mother’s aching, broken heart?  There is nothing.

Part of me died the day Samuel was born still.  I’ve never been the same, and I never will.  I think of him so much, wondering what kind of young man he would be today.  I know that he is at peace, but I miss that part of me — that part of life — that beautiful miracle child of mine.  I miss my little boy.

When people ask what it feels like to lose a child all I can say is, this:  “The pain  cannot be described.”  And, it can’t.  I carried a life inside of me.  I felt this child of mine moving and living inside of me.  And, then that life ended inside of me and I felt an emptiness that cut all the way through my soul.  When Samuel died, part of me died, too, and I don’t know how to accurately explain the death of a child other than to say, “It is the worst pain anyone can ever feel.”  The separation is the loneliest pain in the world.

I love you, sweet baby of mine.

To every parent who has been touched by the loss of a child, my prayer for you is this:  “May you remember more often the miracle of life that ignited your soul than the darkness of death that stole that life away.  May you see the rainbow that colors the sky letting you know that heaven is a promise.  It is real.  Heaven is waiting and so is your child.”

Somerset Rainbow - edit




  • Laura

    Clara, your honesty and unveiling of the most precious moments in your life are so very touching. Your words read to me as if they are my own, because the pain we’ve suffered, while it may not have been at the same time, is the same deep dark pit of emptiness. This pain that I’m sure so many others who read your words feel. Thank you for sharing your tender memories of your son with us.

  • eyesthatdidsee

    Thank you for sharing your loss with us. I agree child loss is the worse pain that you will ever go through, my son past away 14 months now, he was 21, my life isn’t the same and I don’t know if I will ever be the same.

  • Tori Smith

    We who hold a child forever in our heart, but not in our arms…(except for a brief good-bye)…We know the joy of knowing someone who’s spark of life gave us a precious gift, we know the the sadness of life and the hope of eternity. It is the joy that my first daughter introduced into my heart that I remember, and hold onto, as I live the years apart from her. Yes, I cried for the times she missed with her siblings, but I know she has always been there…Our little angel!

  • balzer15

    “It is a fate worse than death” ….I heard that statement in an interview between Pastor Greg Laurie and Dr. James Dobson. It describes child loss from a bereaved parents point of view.

  • tammy

    Thank you for sharing this. It is almost exactly like my experience with the loss of my son 19 years ago. I held his lifeless body in mine for a week before I delivered. I would never trade that week. I think one of the hardest parts is that no one knew him except me. I am sure you can understand that feeling.

  • Rosemary Gummoe

    Dear Clara
    You are so right when you said you cannot describe the pain. We had a very healthy 22 yr old daughter. Last April 12, 2012 she was dianosed with a very rare leukaemia called byphenotipic leukaemia. We lost our Beautiful baby daughter on July 27, 2012. Her brother was a perfect match for a bone marrow transplant. Unfortunetly without warning she developed a fungal phenmonia. July 26, her & I had a great day she even asked for a tuna hogie which I was thrilled go get because she was not eating. We had fun watching tv that night but around midnight she took a tufn for the worst. I had to call my husband & other children in. Friday morning at 7:45 the Angels came to take her home. The pain is just unbearable. I am used to young deaths as I lost my little brother age 15 from leukaemia in 1975 & my oldest brother age 29 from a heart anyurism.
    I just needed to thank you for your site. It brings me great comfort. My mom gave me your site. After my second brother passed she started a berevment group called Pieta for parents that have lost children.
    We as a family have had too many deaths but out Faith in God has kept us going.
    I look forward every week to read your next post. From my heart Thank you.

  • jerry

    I dont cry much i cant i have been hurt to bad my baby was 21 yes grown but still my baby and allways will be , after reading about your baby im crying typing this i quess it is ok to cry sometime, God bless you!!! i miss my boy jeremiah he been gone 4 years and 5 month”s….please pray for us and others like us…

  • susan

    Bless you for helping through this we lost our first grandchild the same way he was born stillborn his name is Gabriel Daniel James cobain gaudet born march 24 2007 always in my heart and thoughts

  • Rebecca Medrano

    I’m so sorry Claire. No body should have to lose their child. There are days I just want to give up. I have lost 2 sons. It’s killing me. I sit and wonder am I that bad of a person to be punished like this. I have had people tell me that God has something wonderful in store for me. What can be better than my 2 children. Nothing takes the pain away. Nobody to talk to. Everybody gets tired of me talking about them so then there’s nothing to say. I wish my pain would go away. Thank you Claire for writing everyday. It helps a little. You are such a wonderful person to take time out to help me and others. Again thanks

  • Judy Barber Parker

    Add the pain you describe and then add 30 years of love to it. No one can describe what it is like to lose a child. I had the same love for my son, watched him grow into a handsome young man who expressed his feelings to me by never leaving me without kissing me goodbye on my cheek and always telling me he loved me. When he died I actually lost part of myself and my life will never be the same.

  • Mary

    Wow. I have commented here before regarding losing my son, Christian, to suicide a year ago in May. I also suffered two miscarriages on the path to building our family. One girl (now 29), two miscarriages, one boy (now 25), adopted a girl (now 20), adopted a boy (gone at age 17 May 2012).

    I remember being so surprised at the pain of the miscarriages. Both were early in the pregnancy (4 months). I was very sad at the time and wondered some if I would ever get pregnant again. When I became pregnant with my son, I would dream at night that I miscarried. The dreams were incredibly vivid and I would awake crying believing he was gone. I would take a while to realize it was just a dream. I couldn’t believe this was buried so deep in my subconscious. I dreamed this over and over. Such a deep seated emotion.

    If I thought about losing one of my children, I could get really worked up and sad. One time, one of my children got lost at a ball game and I couldn’t believe how upset and frightened I was. I have told numerous people “If you’ve ever imagined how horrible it would be to lose one of your children, multiply that by 100 and you will understand what it feels like to really lose a child.” I had no idea. No idea.

    I miss my son so much. He was a beautiful boy inside and out. He was too young to see what the rest of us could see. The circumstances surrounding his suicide are so painful. Because he was living in a developmentally disabled group home, there was a lot of collateral damage and many others, besides our family, suffered when he died. His sisters and brothers have been so sad. His sister, closest in age, also adopted from Korea, has been suicidal herself since his loss and has only recently agreed to get help.

    If it were not for my faith in God and my belief that nothing comes to me that He hasn’t given me the tools to handle, I don’t know that I would have survived this grief as well as I have. When something like this happens, and you are pushed up against a furnace of pain, you find out who you really are, at the core, and what is important and what is not.

    Other than my faith, the thing that I have found that has helped me the most has been to reach out to others, to give my son’s life and the pain I feel from losing him some meaning and purpose (in a situation that appeared to be purposeless and meaningless.) I spend many hours every week with adolescents and young adults that experience developmental delays and live in group homes. I am on several committees that work to provide services for adolescents who experience DD and mental health issues. I would not be doing this if it weren’t for the many years journey into DD and mental health services I went on with my son.

    I hope someday to write a book on my journey that would be helpful to others. I am just not in that place yet.

    Thank you for this blog and the opportunity to share a little of my grief journey.

    • Clara Hinton

      I’m so glad that you feel able to share here. I cannot begin to imagine all that you and so many others have been through. I hope and pray that one day you will feel like you’re in the right place emotionally to write a book. I know for certain that it would be most helpful to others.

  • Emil;y

    We lost our 2nd son due to heart problems at 7 months old. I try to remember his little face, how he loved to watch cars drive by while we sat outside, how he loved to play in his jumper with his jumping Tigger, but the pain of losing him is what I remember the most. I live with this pain everyday. My heart is forever broken.

  • Dawn Thomas

    When you explained the pain over your son never looking into your eyes, I really felt your pain. I am sorry that this was the case.

    You are right, it is impossible to explain the pain of losing a child. I wish it wasn’t, so that others had a better understanding. I have really strong days, and I have very weak days, although I prefer not to think of them as weak. Because the fact that I am still walking this planet every day shows an enormous amount of strength. I lost my son, Brandon, to suicide in May 2012. I hate that I have to remain here to live the rest of my days in pain. However, Brandon has a twin brother, Devin, who needs me. He needs me be healthy and strong. I fake it every day and almost believe it hasn’t happened at times, but then grief rears it’s ugly head and I fall apart without even expecting it. I find isolation helps me to live my real emotions rather than donning the mask which can be exhausting. I constantly play positive self-talk in my head on a pretty regular basis. Miring myself in pain will not serve me or anyone else. It is hard though. I had been doing a pretty good job the last three weeks and I made the mistake of daydreaming in my car the other day about the phone call that forever changed me. It took me back to that moment fully. That was 3 days ago, and I have been trying to claw myself out of the depths ever since.

    People say to face the grief. These people have not lost a child. Sometimes blocking the reality is critical to functioning. Yes, it does always come back up even stronger the longer I block it, but at least in the moments that I have blocked it, I didn’t feel like dying.

    • Judy Carter

      I read your post on the Child Loss website. I can totally relate to your feelings. I also lost my son to suicide almost 10 years ago and I still struggle. It seems to come in like waves of emotion that completely engulf me. Sometimes it stays for days. Other times the waves rush over me and then they are gone. No one can tell you how long you should grieve. Just know you should feel no guilt because of your grief.

  • Tonya P

    My 4 month old boy died 4 years ago and it feels like just yesterday. I dont know how to move in or deal with his loss, I just cry a lot, my pain is so deep it hurts. I got advice, many have tried to comfort me, but its like apart of me died when my Isaiah did. I try to be strong for my husband and 3 other children, but my heart yearns to get to know my loss son, to hold him again in my arms, to kiss his head, to say I love you, to sing my song again , you are my baby, and I will love you always and forever, forever and ever, its hard. I know God is here for me, I just have a hard time dealing, and it hurts, but I always try to keep the faith through all my pain an hold in to the hope of seeing my baby again

  • Shelby McDaniel

    Our youngest son Paul, 22, died five years ago due to a stroke. We donated his organs/tissue. His heart recipient comes up from Dallas to visit every year. It’s so great to hear Paul’s hear beating. Our oldest son Ben, 30, went cave diving three years ago yesterday. He never resurfaced. We tried to find his body to bring home to bury over Paul but could not. Cadaver dogs detected a body scent a week later and a month later. He is too far back as all the cave divers said it was too dangerous to go through the last restriction. We’ve never ask God why. We know they are in Heaven. My wife and I are grief leaders at our church as we try to help others move on and learn to create a “new Normal”.

    • Clara Hinton

      I cannot fathom all that you’ve been thorough and the way you’ve chosen to work through your grief — by giving to others. Thank you so much for sharing. I’m so very sorry for the loss of two of your sons in such tragic ways.

  • Melissa (screen name I choose after my divorce 12yrs. ago. Please ignore.)

    On June 26, 2013, we loss our Precious Angel Gabriel. I was 18 weeks and 6 days pregnant. We were going to my doctor appointment the next day to find out what we were having. Instead, we were shocked to hear no heart beat. Without warning, it just happened. We were laying in bed and talking about what we were going to do that day. I then had some abdominal pain. So I laid there for about 15 minutes, then went to the bathroom. I flipped out when I had seen the bleeding. We went to the doctors and that is when we found out there was no heart beat. I don’t get it. Everything was fine and well at our previous appointment three weeks earlier. It is the worst thing in the world to lose a child. This is the first time I have spoken on this site about what has happened. Gabriel was wanted and loved and still is. My dreams have been shattered with his loss. However, I am trying to “move on” and live a “normal” life whatever that is right now. I just came home from a weekend getaway with my other 3 Precious Angels and grandson. I figured we needed time away from everything around home. We needed new scenery to look at and good people to talk to. It was a good weekend. Too short but very sweet 🙂 I admire everyone’s bravery to share their experiences. With me reading the status of this site and everyone sharing, it helps me to know that I am not alone in all the thoughts that have came about in the last 7 weeks. Tomorrow, I go back to work and dread seeing the pregnant women I work with and that were due close to my due date. I guess this is just another stepping stone I have to face and take in my healing process. Thanks again everyone for sharing. May God bless us all and help our healing process. Clara, as for Samuel, I know he is in good hands as well as Gabriel. I also appreciate the new way of looking at it all…celebrating Gabriel’s life as he was growing and moving inside of me. However, the day of us reuniting can’t come soon enough. May God Bless all of us who have loss our children whether still in our womb or 5, or 18 years of age etc. It doesn’t matter. We all still share the same kind of loss. This is the hardest thing in my life I have ever had to face. May God gives us all His love and guidance and help us to get through our grief. Amen.



    • Clara Hinton

      I believe you stated it so right — “the nightmare doesn’t end.” Losing a child shatters us to the very core of our being.

  • Annette Lanier Snodgress

    Clara, I am so deeply sorry for your loss. I wanted to tell you that I appreciate your daily posts. Most hit right on and describe exactly how I’m feeling. My loss is a bit different, I gave birth to 4 healthy children and lost one at 12 weeks – but my greatest loss was my 19 yr old son that took his own life 23 months ago.

    Since his death, I have been trying to relearn how to live myself, and still hold it together for my other children. God has been my strength. I love the prayer at the end of your story God’s promise is why I continue to live — my faith is my saving grace in keeping me sane.

    • Clara Hinton

      Annette, I’m so very, very sorry for your losses. My heart feels so broken every time I hear the word “suicide” — and I can see that suicide has been mentioned on this blog numerous times already. Suicide is a loss that needs some very special attention because of the nature of this loss. I hope to address loss by suicide in some special blog posts in the near future.

      I’m so thankful that God and your faith have been your saving grace. My love to you and all those who are traveling this difficult, painful journey of child loss.

  • Anita bass

    Been there done that… Christian Joseph was born in heaven 5/29/2009 in our 7th month…I will NEVER be the same…

  • Sabrina Torres

    ever since i found this page on fb, i have read from it religiously…9 years ago, i lost my baby boy…i was 7 months pregnant…i delivered him by c-section…had him transferred to texas childrens because i knew there, he would have a better chance of possibly surviving…while i was still stuck at the hospital where i gave birth, i received the call from the doctors that my Junior was about to pass…i think that is probably the only regret i have…is that i was not there to be with him =( i am so very sorry for your loss & i thank you for sharing your story….one of my best friends has now recently lost her son @ 7 months…same as me…she is having a very hard time dealing with the situation…she was the person that helped me through my grief & now i try to help her…although the situation is a bit different because now she lives in virginia so it is harder for me. i have shared the page & posts with her to try to help her as well…thank you again…

  • Darlene

    Dear Clara
    I cannot imagine how you feel …I remember how I felt when I miscarried at 13 weeks and never got pregnant again….
    I had two beautiful children already and would have had more gladly.
    I share grief with Annette, our son of 34 years took his life from us on 6-13-13 and that is truly the most excruciating pain I have ever dealt with….
    Broken, lost, bleeding inside, a piece of me is gone forever ….now I am trying to reinvent myself, to learn who I am and where I am going without our beautiful son. The road ahead is long and painful, but at the end is the promise of being with him again. My faith and belief that he is no longer tormented, but happy and free and doing Gods will in heaven and someday when I have finished my duties here on earth I will see him again…these keep me sane. I will find joy and happiness here again, in our other children and grandchildren and make my son proud of his Momma. God Bless all of us in this place for only we can understand how we truly feel.

  • Sylvia Joffe

    I’m sorry about your loss.Our precious 10yr old Vanya died on 6 July 2013.Cancer took her from us…its been nearly 7weeks but feels like yesterday.I miss my baby so much.

  • Glenna Todovich

    God Bless all the grieving mothers this story is so true. To lose a child at any age is losing a part of your heart. I feel lucky to have had my beautiful boy for 25 years BUT I will NEVER get used to being without him and look forward to meeting him again on another day in another place. I LOVE YOU AARON DAVID.

  • Mary Elisabeth Cutliff

    I too have a precious boy named Samuel. He had special needs and a progressive degenerative disease. Last September, when he was 7 years old he took his last breath with his mommy & Daddy holding him. The pain is indescribable, but the Lord continues to pour His grace on our family as we grieve. Juggling my grief, my husbands and my other 3 children’s grief is very difficult. Thank you for your page, it helps so much. We will never move on, but we are trying our best to move forward.

    • Clara Hinton

      Mary, I’m so sorry for the loss of your precious Samuel. I wish I could answer each post individually, but I think you’ve summed it up so well — “we will never move on, but are trying our best to move forward.” Together, we will continue to support each other and on those really bad days we know we can come here and get some much-needed strength and encouragement.

  • Genevra

    I can so relate to the touching and holding. My two boys who passed in a horrible accident last year (Sept. 8, 2012) were well beyond being little. Gerald was one month away from being 40 and Eldon was 37. I was not allowed to see Eldon’s body, but they allowed me to see his hand. His hand was his as I touched it, kissed it and loved it. Gerald’s wife had Gerald embalmed and one could see the injury to his head…it wasn’t quite right. I didn’t want to remember that, so I focused on his hand and kissed, held and touched it too. I knew they were together and in a better place, but I grieved for my loss and their children’s loss and what the future without them would bring. I think, unlike other deaths, a loss of a child or children is monumental and one never recovers from it. It wasn’t supposed to be. I, the parent was supposed to go first. I brought up these two wonderful young men, in spite of myself, and loved them deeply. They shall never be forgotten, tears and smiles will be shed daily over them, but I have to be positive and try to move forward for their young children and my husband. Right now, progress is that I eat, I wash the dishes, I do the laundry and look after my furry kids. Sometimes I sub at the schools. Working with children force me to smile, as children are children and they often have enough sadness in their little lives. I need to encourage them and in doing that, I feel some stirrings of moving forward. Probably that is what helps the most. By the way, Clara, I too lost a sibling when I was 10 and he was 18. My brother, Peter, committed suicide. My first experience of a death and it was so close. Changed all of us in so many ways. Being a child I watched my mother grieve until she found art, after I had left home. Both she and my father died before my children did. For that I am grateful, but I now wish I could ask her so many questions, but also I have such a deep understanding of what she must have gone through. Thank you for your page and writings. I was thinking today, even knowing the outcome, would I do it all again? Would I got through birthing and bringing up my beautiful sons? You bet I would…I wouldn’t change anything about them either. I might change me, but never them. They were a joy beyond all to have. This just shouldn’t have happened.

    • Clara Hinton

      Genevra, I’m so, so sorry for the loss of your sons. I think your post says something that parents need to hear over and over and over again. It doesn’t matter what age our children are, child loos just never should happen. And, we grieve this loss until the end of our days. I’m so very sorry for the loss of your brother, also. Our world certainly does change in a million different ways. In lots of ways, we understand the meaning of heaven more — it seems so much more real. And, I think we understand all-too-much the reality of the fact that life can change in the blink of an eye. Nobody is protected from this tragedy called child loss. It brings home the fact that every day it’s important to begin and end the day with, “I love you.”

      • kasara Escamilla

        I am new here but Clara I love reading your posts…. on April 22nd I lost my 4yr old little boy who was my world…. It was a normal Monday morning I was driving his older sister to school and then me and him to childcare where he attended and I worked when I somehow lost control of the vehicle… his sister was fine but my little boy didn’t make it.. I ended up in ICU in critical condition not knowing what was going on with either one of my babies… it was the most horrible feeling ever… it has been 4 months and it still seems like it was just yesterday…. child loss is the most painful feeling ever… thanks for your encouraging words…

        • Clara Hinton

          I’m so very sorry. Sometimes there simply are no words. What a sad, sad tragedy. You are being held close in prayer. Our lives can be changed in the blink of an eye. 🙁

  • Angel Lynn

    Hi I am new to the site. My name is Angel Lynn! An I was 16 weeks pregnant with my second child.I went into the OB for a normal check on the baby and me on May 5th 2011. As I waited I was so uneasy that day. I was by myself as my husband stayed home because we had a sick child. So the OB comes in with doppler to listen to the baby’s heartbeat and she couldn’t find it. So I knew right then something wasn’t right. So she said lets get a ultrasound and see where the baby was hiding at. I already knew my baby was gone! An while waiting I started to cry. The ultrasound tech comes in and starts. She doesn’t let me see anything. She was amazing talking to me and then stops an says let me go get the doctor.So it takes a min for them both to come in. They both scan over my belly. an that’s when they cut the TV’s on and let me see my baby’s sweet face. An at the point my OB says Angel I am so sorry but your baby no longer has a heartbeat. I started crying and screaming asking why and what want wrong? An what did I do wrong? My OB was so sweet and comforting and so was the tech they both held me why I sobbed uncontrollably. So the doctor gave me two ways to handle the birth of my baby I could have the baby at home or go to the hospital. Well I chose hospital. So had to be there at 6 am. I also had to call my husband and tell him. I couldn’t drive home for an hour because I could see or think straight. I was all alone with no family or friends. An when I got home my husband and I just looked at our sleeping daughter and just cried. When she got up I had to take her to a friends house. I cried on the way to drop her off and when we left her. I knew I was not going to get my happy ending with having two beautiful children. I knew I was going to leave the hospital empty handed.So the next day I go into be induced. I was in labor all day and finally after 24 hours they told me I had to have surgery because I only made it to two cm and they were worry about infections and stuff that could take my life. I was so hurt! My husband freaked out so bad. His own mother couldn’t console him. We were hoping to get time with our baby anytime at all. So I go in and get the surgery. An I cried all the way there. I had two AMAZING nurse! They held my hand hugged me cried with me and I was so blessed to have them. So as I waited down in the preop waiting area. I start looking at my belly touching, talking and rubbing my baby one last time. So I go back and I get put to sleep. When I woke up the first thing I said to my sweet nurses where my baby is gone now. An cried and they hugged me!. They prayed with me! As I get to the room my husband and mother in law are waiting both have been crying and upset. Worried about me and how I am doing!
    So its late my mother in law leaves. So its me and my husband, We start talking and say we know in our heart we had a son. So we named him Noah Jackson and post on our facebook for the first time we lost our baby. An what his name was and so many people started writing us. They grieved with us! So the next day is mother’s day May 8th 2011 and as I sit there people start posting Happy Mother’s Day. An I posted this “You know today I didn’t want to hear Happy Mother’s day but I am still a mother to two Wonderful Children even if One is not here with me I am still his mother and I love him! So I want to say Happy Mother’s Day to all the Mothers,Mothers to be and All the mother who have Angel Babies! I love you Noah and Trinity”.An we still didn’t know if we had a boy or girl yet. Well 5 mins after I posted that my OB came in and said Angel you had a healthy baby BOY! She said I can find nothing wrong with him. I was so hurt by that! Then two months later I found out that my son passed due to a cord knot (true knot). It was cause by him moving so much so early in gestation. So with that said I stopped blaming myself and everyone around me. I had start to pick myself up because my daughter need me. I started to live for her! I still have my days. Noah’s due date is the 19th of October and I am slowly losing my ground but I know I have my family and friends to hold me up. An with that said I had another loss February 20th 2012. At 8 weeks and my daughter told us that it was a girl and named her Maddlyn Noel.So we just kept that name. An June of 2012. I found out I was pregnant again and this time I have my Rainbow William Stephen George. He was born February 26. So I will say this some days are better then others. An no your grief never goes away (at least not mine) it just gets easier to handle with time. An I am not mad or angry with God or anyone. An I am so sorry this is long and I just haven’t wrote about my loses or how I am now. Thank you for this blog and all your support!

    • Sabrina Torres

      OMG! I couldn’t read that without crying….thank you for sharing your story as well… my baby boy would have been 9 this year…& no, the grief doesn’t go away….I have always said that I wouldn’t wish losing a child on my worst enemy…just the opposite happened….one of my best friends lost her baby boy on Christmas eve last year. ..So now I am helping her with her grief….am so happy that your story had happy ending….our babies are all playing together heaven waiting for our arrival ♥♥♥

    • Clara Hinton

      I’m so glad that you’ve been able to write about your losses. I find there is so much healing in that! And, I’m so very, very sorry for the losses of your sweet babies, but so vrey happy for your rainbow baby, Will Stephen George. That’s such wonderful news! 🙂

  • Jackie Sondrol

    This post couldn’t have been written at a more appropriate time for me. I had received the devastating news on August 19, 2013 that my 39+3 week baby boy no longer had a heartbeat. You are right, the pain you feel when you lose a child is like nothing else – indescribable. Grief is a very lonely process. It has helped reading the thoughts and feelings of others. So, thank you. I’m sorry for the loss of your baby boy and of your sister. Loss changes a person and life will never be the same but it is our choice how we let that change transform us. God Bless!

    • Clara Hinton

      Jackie, I’m so, so sorry. 🙁 I don’t think it’s possible to put into words what this kind of pain is like. Your attitude is beautiful. I think most parents of loss what to choose a good life transformation following loss, but sometimes the pain overrides our wishes for a long, long time. You said it best — grief is a very lonely “process.”