Peyton Trinity Anelaokalani
I Am Her Mother
For you have not walked in my shoes
She was not your daughter
You did not love her and long for her
As I did and do and always will
You did not feel her and plan for her
And know her and promise her that
You would always take care of her
As I did
She was my daughter
You did not hear the doctors say
That she would be sick
That she already was sick
And that she would be sick until
The day she died
You did not pray to God that the
Second ultrasound would confirm
Your hopes that she would be healthy
You did not see the tear
In the doctor’s eye when he
Confirmed the diagnosis
You did not pray to God for
Her to never have to suffer
For him to take her to Heaven
Where there is no pain
You did not feel her pain
I did
I am her mother
When you simply said to me
That I don’t have the right
To take her life
I know you did not feel my struggle
When you simply said to me
That I don’t have to take her life
For her to be happy
I know you did not feel my struggle
I do not know what God wanted for her
I do not have his wisdom
And neither do you
I do know that He loves me
I felt His love through the people He gave me
I know that God did feel my struggle
All I ask from you now
Is that you pray for my daughter
And do not judge me for what I have done
For you have not walked in my shoes
I am her mother
November 3, 1998. I had been sick for weeks now without explanation; however, Andris was quick to label me "knocked up" three weeks prior as I simply HAD to have some peanut M&Ms dipped in ranch dressing. The thought never crossed my mind that one related to the other.
It's never been out of the ordinary for me to miss a period, so when I did, I didn't think much of it. Andris was supposed to go grocery shopping with me on this day, but he was sleeping and I didn't want to wake him up, so I decided to go by myself.
While there, I thought, "What the hay. I'll buy a pregnancy test and confirm that I have some sort of flu so that Andris will stop bothering me." So I tossed an EPT 2-pack into the cart.
When I got home, Andris was on the computer. I brought all the groceries in without even as much as a hello. I had to pee, so I figured, "What better time than the present?" He had NO idea what I was doing.
So I peed on the stick, expecting nothing, as I had always gotten before (a negative), when IMMEDIATELY, a second line appeared. I was flushed. I could NOT believe what I was seeing!
Meanwhile, Andris is right across the hall on the computer with his back to me. "I HAVE to tell him!" I said to myself. So I started walking into the office -- "Wait! Don't I want to make this special somehow?" I turn around and walk back into the bathroom. "But -- NOW! I have to tell him NOW!" I begin walking back into the office. Now let me tell you, I did this indecisive "spin" about six times before I finally marched my butt into the office and held it in front of me so he could see. He looked at me, "What does THAT mean?" he questioned. Flustered, I just looked at him, then the stick, then back at him. "Um, I don't know." (And at that very moment, I wasn't sure I DID know!) So we took the stick, ran into the bathroom and looked at the box. Sure enough. We were pregnant.
We called everyone we knew, as we had JUST begun making our wedding plans. We were SO happy. We hugged and cried. Andris had just gotten a new job and his shift was to start in an hour. Needless to say, he got there and they sent him home to be with me. How sweet!
You can only imagine how elated I was to be pregnant with the child of the man that I love. There's no other feeling in the world like it. We talked to her, sang to her, read to her. We were so in love with our little baby.
About December, things began to get difficult for me. I started having a lot of cramping, and I hadn't seen a doctor yet. The pains would come and go, and I didn't think anything of it.
By January, I finally went to see the doctor. The doctor I went to see had absolutely no bedside manner. She made me very nervous.
As time went on, things got worse and Andris began to worry. I did as well, but I figured that the pains I was getting were normal for a pregnant woman. How was I to know otherwise? Even my doctor told me the same thing.
I worked about an hour away from home, hence, an hour away from my doctor's. One day (a Tuesday), I was having some heavy cramping, so I called my doctor's office from work. It was the end of the day, but they told me to come in anyway, that they would stay open for me.
I get there and I'm still having pains. In fact, I'm having them right in front of my doctor. She feels my stomach and it's rock hard. "Looks like you're having contractions." (I was 19 weeks pregnant, mind you.) She told me that I'm going to have to "deal with it."
The same thing happens the next day. I call from work and they have me come in. This time, my doctor does an ultrasound and tells me, "There is absolutely nothing wrong with you or your baby. You're simply going to have to deal with your aches and pains."
So of course, by now, I think I'm a raving hypochondriac lunatic.
The following Monday is my scheduled 20-week check-up. The weekend was horrible. My pains continued to come more frequently and more agressively. At my check-up, my doctor told me, again, that I was fine and to "deal with it," then sent us home.
About an hour later, at home, I was in SO much pain that I couldn't move. I was wailing in agony. Andris called the doctor and she told him to get me to the hospital for an emergency ultrasound IMMEDIATELY! We almost called an ambulance because I couldn't stand up. My gosh, the pain was excrutiating.
We get to the hospital and I'm getting an ultrasound done. It takes about an hour and a half. I'm asking the technician questions like: "Can you tell if it's a girl or a boy?" She tells me she thinks it's a girl. Otherwise, she wouldn't talk to us. The thought of anything worse than a small complication didn't even occur to me, especially since my doctor didn't make much of a deal out of my concerns.
She was done. About 10 minutes later, my doctor walks in. THAT was a huge surprise since her office is across town from the hospital. "Well," she said without feeling, "baby isn't okay," she said. Then she went on to explain that our baby was missing many, many body parts, bones, etc. That we needed to schedule a Level II ultrasound ASAP. A Level II ultrasound would confirm or deny what was just discovered.
Wednesday, we go to a different hospital for our Level II ultrasound and we meet with a wonderful, wonderful genetic counselor named Laihla. She was so very supportive and comforting.
Again, I spend about an hour and a half on the table getting the ultrasound done. And again, I asked this technician what she thought the baby was. I guess I wanted a motherly moment out of the whole awful experience. She said it looked like a girl. And like the other technician, she didn't say much else. I was terrified by her silence. I started having pain again and again. The technician told me that I was having contractions and that I shouldn't be having contractions that looked like that.
When we were done, time seemed to drag as we waited about 10 minutes for a white coat to come in and give us the news. Is our baby okay? Am I okay?
No. Our baby wasn't going to make it. I was in the early stages of labor at only 20 weeks and the fetus was trying to abort herself. The pains I was experiencing were dilating my cervix, and for my baby's size, delivery was imminent. She was missing leg bones, fingers, half an arm, a toe, her feet weren't fused to her legs, etc. She had a form of dwarfism that would never allow her to walk, if, in fact, she lived through the birth, which wasn't likely under the present circumstances.
We cried our eyes out. Laihla then showed us pictures of what our baby would look like if she were to live. Our poor little girl. How did it get to this? She was diagnosed with an extremely rare disease called Femur-Fibula-Ulna (FFU) Syndrome. They said it's a "fluke." As if that was supposed to make me feel any better.
I was losing her. Labor was impending. That was the pain I was feeling all along. They told me I wouldn't be pregnant more than two weeks, maximum. And if, by some miracle, she made it to term, she wouldn't survive the birth. Not that early in gestation. Not without other major problems piled onto her present skeletal dysplasia. They wanted me in a controlled environment, for my own safety, because of my sporatic contractions. So they asked me when would be a "good time" to have "the procedure." Good time?? Yeah...right! Lailah said, "We can have you come in tomorrow morning at we can induce you by 7:00 a.m."
Then it hit me. I completely lost it. My knees gave out and I held onto Andris. "So soon?" I cried to him, desparate for someone to wake me up. "I know, hon," he said to me, choking down the lump in his own throat, "You just want to be pregnant for one more day." He was right.
With such desparate hope inside, I wanted to believe that being pregnant one more day would make her grow the bones that she was missing. That somehow, all the body parts that she was missing would miraculously appear if I prayed hard enough while I remained pregnant...just one more day.
She was born at 12:13 a.m. Friday, February 12, 1999. Don't think that I don't struggle everyday with the decision that I made. Even though we knew she would have died on her own, we had to make a decision. I could have died as well. Sometimes I wish I had, that it would have been an honorable way for a mother to go, with her child. But I knew God had other things in store for me.
Saturday, February 12, 2000 would have been her first birthday. I spent all of Friday vigorously remembering each second that was happening "one year ago today." I did a lot of crying. I held Eden a little tighter, Andris did the same with me.
At about 11:00 p.m., Friday, I was beginning to get extremely sleepy from all the crying. I said to Andris, "I have to stay awake until 12:13 a.m." He looked at me so understanding. "You don't want to do anything to dishonor her, do you?" "No," I replied, tears streaming down my face. "But you honor her every day in the way that you talk about her. And you honor her through your writing." I then fell asleep with Eden in my arms. I awoke being touched gently on my cheek, "Sweetheart? It's 12:13." We held Eden as we prayed together. Andris said to me, "They say time heals most wounds. I don't think this is one of them."
Saturday morning, 2/12/00, one of the first things he says to me: "I really don't have anything I need to do today" (meaning business.) We didn't answer the home phone, and he didn't answer his business phone a single time. He baked a cake; I frosted it. And that night, we let a birthday balloon go to the sky. We came in and sang "Happy Birthday" and ate cake. I think we'll do that every year.
I had my first postnatal appointment today
The paper had a spot marked “children”
I stopped
I am still your mother
Would I write “1?”
It is two weeks to the day that you passed on
And what quick, easy moments I have had since then
A smile, a laugh, a moment of peace
Have been swallowed
By the recollection of that awful day
The smell of the medical office
Sent memories rushing back to me
Reopening freshly closed wounds
Pulling old tears from my eyes
Sometimes I think I may make it through one day
Even after it all
And sometimes that’s what I have to
Make myself believe
This sunny day has me on an emotional
Roller coaster
Resigning myself to the fact
That I will never hold you again
Your baby things stare at me
Every time I step into the closet
And one time
When the house was silent
I swore I heard the sound
Of a wind-up musical toy
As if I didn’t feel crazy enough already
I’ve tried to fit a piece of you
Into each breath that I take
Then realizing that you’re already there
You’re the knot in my throat
That steals the air
I miss you today, Peyton
And I wonder what things I will feel
When the warm summer breeze
Gently blows across my face
And I remember
All the summer clothes I bought you
In the smallest newborn sizes
Clothes our next child will wear
I’ve felt guilt in many smiles that I’ve had
That I should somehow save them for you
Or the happy moods I wallow in
They’re not complete just yet
I only hope that will change with time
Other women have told me
That after awhile
The hurt won’t last as long
Well, the hurt will not be less
All the pain that I’ve ever endured
Before you
Gathers into each tear
That I cry in your name
I may never understand the reason
And I may find it hard to accept
That there is any reason
Good enough
All I know is that you’re my daughter
And I miss you
And you’re never coming back
For some reason
I am taking the time
To write about a stupid little thing
Like my toes
I have this deep red polish on them
That I painted on there
About two weeks before you were born
I look at it
Chipping away a little
But I remember painting them
And knowing
That it would be the last time
I did it myself
You were starting to grow so very fast
And my tummy was
Getting in the way
And I looked forward to the pedicures
And all of the pampering
I would be able to get away with
Just because I was pregnant
And I look at my toes
And the polish again
Wearing away
Sometimes it’s the stupid little things
That make me think of you
I called one of my best friends today
His sister answered
And in the most concerned of voices
She asked how I was doing
When I first lost you, Peyton
Those three words
“How are you”
Would send me into hysterics
Crying so hard
That I could barely speak between breaths
Now it seems that I get one more
“How are you” in
Without crying
I was okay tonight
I didn’t have to swallow hard
And pretend I was okay
She said that she was sorry
She hopes I’ll be all right
She passed the phone to Daniel
Who, in the same concerned voice
Asked the same questions that she did
And still
I was okay
I hold tight to moments like these
They seem so much shorter
Than the ones where all of my strength
Goes into holding back a single tear
They are also the moments
That make me pray
That I will be this strong again
Tomorrow
I went back home for the first time
(It’s amazing how I’ve rewound
Some imaginary counter
As if time started again after you died)
I hadn’t been home since Christmas
A day I’ll never forget
I received my first gifts for you on that day
Mainly, the baby book where I now keep
Every tangible piece of you that I have left
I shared it with the family
Your family
I caught glimpses of Grandma’s tears
As she turned the many empty pages
I filled out as much as I could
Even kept all the cards we received,
My pregnancy test,
Pictures of me holding the pregnancy test
Daddy went a little crazy with the camera
The night we found out
That you were on the way
I still don’t know how some will feel
Looking at your baby book
Seeing pictures of your lifeless body
How tiny you were
Your “imperfections”
Sometimes I give people the power
To make me feel
As if I should hide that you ever existed
I loved feeling you growing inside me
For however long it lasted
And I will always be proud
To be your mother
Today I would have dressed you up
In a cute little green outfit
To keep those Irish people
From pinching your cheeks
Last Wednesday
My dearest Peyton
You got to meet your Grandma June
She passed on to your side of eternity
I hope the two of you are having fun
Both of you were gone
Within four weeks of each other
And today Fate brought me to
A friend’s mother
Who lost her firstborn child
A daughter
Erin Marie
I have never met this woman
And in an instant
We connected through our losses
At a moment’s notice
The scars you left reopened
And a calm surrender came over me
In listening to her story
I am sure we shared moments of silence
Thanking God for
Sparing us one piece of agony
That the other had endured
Yet we still felt each other’s pain
And I’m sure that
We wondered many of the same things
What you girls would look like
Who you would be
She takes flowers to her daughter’s grave
You don’t have one
I have so many regrets
And it’s only been one month
I’ve tried to keep you touchable in this world
I only wish I had a place that I could go to
And look at
A place where I could talk to you
And know that you would be there
I know you’re in my heart
And that’s supposed to be good enough
Just because it is
But in this skin
I don’t understand that
I want to look at you
And hold you
Just like I am supposed to
Because I am your mother
And even though you’re gone
I still have these instincts
That linger deep inside
Sometimes I wish
That you’d have taken them with you
When you left
So maybe it wouldn’t hurt this much
I never knew how many babies
Or pregnant women there were
Until I lost you
All the preparing we did
The clothes, the toys,
And even your name
All picked with such great care
Perhaps it was women’s intuition
But now it’s a pain of mine
That I never saw myself raising you
I never felt I’d get to know you
And there I was
Waiting for you
Trembling in anticipation
Expecting something to go wrong
All the while buying you little things
That would soon sit isolated
Only to decorate the shelves
Inside our closet
I still can’t bring myself to
Remove those things
I’ve found it soothing
To reach for them sometimes
When the pain gets too great
I discovered my hands on my stomach
Waiting for you to kick
Last night
As I drifted off to sleep
And still I sing my song to you
Your little lullaby
Do you ever listen?
Do you hear it when
My heart is crying
Louder than my lips
Could ever cry?
Do you ever hear me say, “I love you?”
I love you
I started crocheting a blanket
That I would one day wrap you in
I stopped working on it
When you died
But I will always keep it
As a reminder
Of what was not to be
I haven’t even looked at it since
And I don’t know when I will
Perhaps when the crying slows
And the lullaby fades
Or maybe even today
Daddy played your musical teddy bear today
It brought me tears
And a smile
We hugged and listened
Until the song ended
We cried the other day
Because we were missing you
It’s not every day
That we express in tears together
How much we miss you
Moments like that
Seemed so long ago
Yet the pain is still so close
I keep praying
That we will give you
A little brother or sister soon
My stomach feels so empty
And I wonder what you would sound like
As a toddler
Asking us for a baby brother or sister
Something all kids do
You’ll never get to pick on them
Defend them
Or have them look up to you
For me
That’s the way it should have been
Even if others say
That this is the way
It’s supposed to be
I have discovered a place
Where I can vent my pain
My anguish
My love for you
I wonder if you have led me here
Being quite aware of the
Recent tears I have shed missing you
It covers all aspects of pregnancy
Those, like me, who have lost
And even those with angels on the way
Every day
I see another pregnant woman
With naïvety in her eyes
As she rubs her growing belly
My jealous eyes fall upon her
And for a second
I find myself hating her
For having what I once had
And being able to sustain it
Then I hate myself for feeling that way
How horrible
Not that I wish my pain upon her
But rather
Wish that she could see
What is in my eyes
Beyond my words
Beyond our control
Sometimes it helps to see her babies
Sometimes it kills
Why can’t the world
Just accommodate me for now?
Why her?
Why me?
Bittersweet reminders of you
Leave wet trails on my cheeks
And warm moments of love
Tickle my stomach
Where you used to be
I am supposed to be
Seven months pregnant right now
Lighting stadiums with my “mother’s glow”
Eating nachos until I drop
Milking back rubs from your daddy
Instead I sit alone
And wonder what your cry would sound like
All the woulds and coulds
That will never be
I’ll never touch you again
And every day it pains me to think
That I never kissed you hello
Or good-bye
I guess I just didn’t think of it
In my few minutes with you
I spent every second
Vigorously embedding your image in my memory
Telling myself
“You can never forget that face”
I will never forget your face
And I panic sometimes
That I am slowly losing your image
That I can’t let that happen
Or I’ll lose you forever
But I already have
What a cruel game was played with me
To give me such a gift
To let me care for you and love you
In all the ways I should have
Only to take you away
Before I ever had a chance
Oh, why couldn’t your eyes have opened
And looked up at me
Just once?
Just once
You will never see me
Through the eyes God gave you
But only through the soul He gave you
And I will not love you again
With the arms God gave me
But with the soul He gave me
I guess sometimes I just need to be reminded
That I can touch you
Even when I can’t
It’s been a long while
Since I’ve been able to write to you
Growing your little sister in my tummy
Embraced in your essence
It took so long to believe
That I was doing it all again
Walking out to the same ledge
Where the wind of devastation
Swept beneath my feet and carried me
Only to throw me off its cliffs and drown me
In the frozen tears I turned away from
It is there I had to walk
And fall
And swim
I miss what we were together
Oh, the fears that will burden your sister
As I raise her
Look over us, Little Angel
I know you are here
Sometimes I feel you
Letting me know you’re here
Daddy and I cried together
Last night
Remembering how much we miss you
Confiding the little strengths
That have seemed to grow since then
Like the song that belongs to you
Now only steals our breath
The night you died and how
He sat outside the hospital
With his head in his hands
And cried for us
While I lay exhausted
In a drug-induced sleep in my bed
We’re slowly carrying on
Wondering if this new baby
Is really you again
We’ll never know much
There’s really no resolve in it for us
Except the scenarios that
We’ve drawn up ourselves
You weren’t ready
We weren’t ready
We did something bad to deserve it
The hardest part is not knowing
And that will always be fresh
In these final moments
Of childless silence
I remember yours
I sit alone
In the home where rent is overdue
And the hard times sit
Heavily on our shoulders
And I play every song I know
That reminds me of you
The new baby kicks me
As your tears stream incessantly
Down my cheeks
I remember you in my arms
For the very first time
Your cold body
So tiny
Fitting into my two hands
How very tired I was
From all the drugs they gave me
To make things “easier”
Your little body in Daddy’s hands
As he held you up to God
And cried
Why did we have to be there
In that very moment
Crying five months of love
Into today
Almost one year later
Eden will be three weeks old tomorrow
She looks exactly like you
Oh, how sweet it was
To hear that first cry
We still have some bonding to do
And I feel somewhat guilty
That I still hold you so close
That perhaps I am letting it
Come between her and I
But in the rough moments
When I feel I’m losing my patience
I think of you
And how blessed I am
It puts things as much in perspective
As they will ever be
She often stares off into space
And smiles in her sleep
I assume it is you
Big sister
Keeping her company
You are not forgotten
Sweet angel
We have your precious face here
To remind us again
“Happy Birthday to you..”.
It’s creeping up on me slowly
I was in the car yesterday
And the song said:
“Who’s gonna pay attention to your dreams?”
At that very moment I realized
It was one year ago today
At that very time
That we were getting the bad news
A sinking feeling came over me
But I couldn’t cry then
I was on my way to do business
“Happy Birthday to you…”
It’s not fair that life has to go on
Without you
I write this as I hold your sister
Nestled, sleeping soundly against my body
Your exact image
And I feel the moments again
Fresh in my heart
Like it’s happening all over again
But I’m careful not to let my tears
Fall on her
“Happy Birthday, Dear Peyton…”
We are going to bake a cake for you
And send balloons your way
Oh, dear God will the pain always be
This fresh?
Will the tears always be so quick to fall
This time of year?
The person who said it would get easier
Never lost her child
“…Happy Birthday to you”
Four years ago today
It seems like forever ago
A glimpse into my pain
My sorrow
My hope
A bittersweet moment
Of a dazed emotion
That I'm sometimes still within
The tears still creep
The pain still lingers
Your essence surrounds us
And we embrace you
As if you were still here
Your sisters will not know you as I have
What have I really known?
Not enough to keep it all from sifting
Beneath my clutching fingers
But what stays stains my hands
So everything I touch is you
You were my first
In a couple of hours
Your sisters, your dad and I
Will be sending you your birthday balloons
You play well, my sweet little baby girl
Mommy misses you in every thought
Smile
and tear
Keep shining
I will hold you again one sweet day
In Loving Memory of Peyton
Christy's Old Poetry Stuff
Eden
Aya Rose
Sisters (Eden and Aya)
Our Wedding
Candids
Fun pictures of Andris and Christy.
Christy and Andris
Eden (Almost) Weekly
Our project: We bought a house!
