Showing posts with label Dads. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dads. Show all posts

Monday, May 20, 2013

Letters to Nora - May 19th, 2013


May 19th, 2013

Dear Sweet Nora,

I miss you so much today.  Did you know your dad’s birthday is on Tuesday?  How I wish you could be here to celebrate it with us.  He was so excited about being a dad.  I think at times he was more ready to be a parent than I was, but that doesn’t mean I miss you any less, honey.  

I wanted to tell you more about him today; I promised I would.  I want you to know how wonderful he is.  Let’s start with his handsome good looks.  You got most of your sweet beauty from your father.  He is so handsome.  His eyes are brown with flecks of green throughout.  He doesn’t believe that there is green in them, but when I gaze into his, I see the green flecks there.  His eyes are magical.  I wonder if you had his eyes or mine?  You do have his hair though, which was a little disappointing to me.  I was hoping you would be a strawberry blonde like me, but you have his fine dark locks and luckily you got his gorgeous, lush lashes.  I really think you would have been a beautiful image of your father, but as a sweet girl. 

My attraction to your dad’s good looks was there from the minute my eyes met his across the way at the Mall of America, where we met for the first time.  I was lucky from that moment on, because I fell more deeply in love with this handsome man, not just for his great looks but for his beautiful soul. You see Nora, your dad is an amazing man.  He is everything I dreamed of in a lover, partner, friend, husband, and father to my children (that’s you, honey).  He is curious and intelligent, teaching me new things every day, as well as being motivated in his career and driven to succeed.  He believes in service to others, as do I, and has risked his life in the name of our country while serving in the Navy overseas.  There is so much courage in that.  He is sweet and tender, not only with me doing little things to remind me of his love for me, but with your doggy brother G-man, who he dotes on as I know he would have on you. He is a loving husband, dependable best friend, and nurturing dad.        

Oh, Nora, how I wish you and him could have met each other.  I remember the nights when he would place his hands on my belly and feel you move.  Sometimes he would lay his head on my bulging tummy and you would kick back more so than before.  It’s as if you knew he was there.  Excited to play with him, to meet him, and tease him as I know you would have if you met outside of the womb. 

He misses you Nora, with his whole heart.  I should really say that he has a hole in his heart now from missing you so.  I know I have two holes in mine, one from missing you, and one for your dad that he never got the chance to hold you, know you, or carry you in this life as I did.  Nora, I wish you would have got to meet him because he would have been the best dad in the world.

He is my husband, your father, and both of our heros. 


I know we both love him so much.  You are lucky because you are a part of him, a part of the love and greatness that is your father. 

Well, honey, it’s time for me to go to bed now. Good night sweetie. 


Love Always & Forever, 

Mom


Sunday, May 19, 2013

Sundays at Grandma's - His Story, Nora's Dad Shares


First off, I want to apologize for not posting yesterday.  We are out of town and have been having some technical difficulties.  

But, today in Sundays at Grandma's we will be hearing from Nicholas, Nora's dad and my husband.  I want to thank Nick again for being able to go to the dark places of grief and share his story in order to help others with theirs.  
 



His Story

The story begins about a year ago when I found out that my wife, Lindsey, was pregnant.  We had been trying to get pregnant for a few months when she came into the bedroom on the morning that we were closing on our new home.  She came over to me, as I just got out of the shower, and handed me something.  I looked at what she had just handed me and realized it was a pregnancy test.   I knew immediately the reason she had handed it to me.  She was pregnant.  I was so excited.  I always wanted to be a father.  I thought this was the greatest day.  We were buying a house and I found out I was going to be a dad.

Throughout the pregnancy I was hardly nervous at all, but every now and then Lindsey would express some concern and I would comfort her when she would get nervous, as I had no fear.  I had no reason to fear.
   
On December 30th at 2:00 in the morning Lindsey woke me and told me she was feeling labor pains, so I calmly got the bag we had prepared.  We got in the car and drove to the hospital with anticipated excitement.  When we arrived the nurse took us into a room and used the Doppler device to look for the baby’s heartbeat.  After a minute or so she tried another device.  That didn’t seem to work so she retrieved the doctor who tried to find the heartbeat of our baby girl.  I remember him looking at us and saying the worst thing I have ever heard in my life,  “I’m sorry.  We’re not finding what we are looking for.”  My heart sank.  I held Lindsey’s hand as we absorbed the news.  Everything we had prepared for during the last nine months was all for nothing.  All our hopes and dreams of how we would raise our daughter were, in that moment, destroyed.  

The doctor said the safest option was to have Lindsey give birth naturally.  I thought to myself, “What torture this is."  To hear your baby has died and then be asked to go through labor and give birth to a baby that will never open her eyes.  Over the course of the next 12 hours Lindsey demonstrated more courage than I have ever witnessed.  She gave birth to our daughter, Nora, at 3:00 in the afternoon that Sunday.  At first I wasn’t sure if I wanted to hold her, to remember her as this lifeless baby, but I took her in my arms and felt a deep love and a maddening sadness at the same time.  This was my baby girl, Nora; this was my daughter.
             
The weeks following this ordeal (I still don’t know if I should refer to it as Nora’s death or her birth) were difficult to get back to normal.  We rearranged our lives to prepare for her, now we had to rearrange them back somehow.  We had to stop preparing to raise a child and had to concentrate on finding stability.  I was nervous how this might effect our relationship.  Would Lindsey sink into depression?  Would I become irritable and get frustrated with inconsequential things?  These fears subsided after time.  Our relationship grew even stronger as we were given the support we needed from friends and family.
             
What I learned from this, what Nora taught me, was that the most important thing in life is friends and family.  We found out that we are extremely lucky to have such a close network of people who care for us and each other.  I knew this before of course.  I have always had a deep appreciation of those close to me, but the support shown was moving.  Nora reinforced my belief that the importance of relationships and experiences will always trump material things.  She also taught me that we can get through anything, we can overcome anything. And finally, she made me a dad.  That is a powerful gift.    

Thursday, May 16, 2013

Dad’s & Grief: An Interview with a Grieving Dad.



Today I will be interviewing my wonderful husband, Nicholas Henke, on what it is like to be a bereaved dad after the stillbirth of our daughter, Nora.




Lindsey: Thanks for taking on the task of representing grieving fathers and for being willing to share your answers with others as I know you are more of a private griever.  This is a big stretch for you in your grief process.  I appreciate your willingness to do this.

Nick: I'm happy to help out.  Hopefully, other grieving fathers will realize it's okay to talk openly about it too.

Lindsey: So let's get to it. What is it like for you to be a grieving dad?

Nick: All I can do is really give you examples.  I notice that there are certain triggers that come now and then. Like when I interact with my friends and coworkers about their children.  It usually doesn't bother me but when one of them mentions their real young daughter, when they talk about their daughters, I become less engaged in the conversation.  That one hits closer to home.  Also, seeing kids at the store or park or something isn’t too bad either.  But again, little baby girls, that’s a trigger I guess.  Or it cues me to think about what happened to us and what Nora might be like now and as she gets older.

Lindsey: Okay, sometimes I know I need to be more specific in the questions I ask you in order to get the answers I am looking for. (That also might be a difference in gender too.)  So now I want to know, how does it feel to be a grieving dad?

Nick: It’s tough, confusing, I don’t know if I consider myself a dad. I like to consider myself a dad but…I don't know. I think as a man you are expected to be stronger and not show emotions. Typically I don’t get overwhelmed by the emotion of grief or sadness when I’m out in public, but sometimes when I am at home the flood of emotions comes easier, maybe because it’s safer at home to grieve. I also think being a guy, other guys don’t, or aren’t, comfortable with emotions.  I’m not comfortable talking about grieving in general.  My friends will ask how I’m doing and I'll say, "OK" or "fine."  I think some want a real answer and some don’t. I think it's not really expected that I talk about how I feel or if I'm having a bad day.

Lindsey: Are you okay with that?  That you perceive that it is not really expected that you talk about how you feel? 

Nick: You're always wearing your therapist cap, aren't you?  (He said this with a playful smile).  

Lindsey:  So to wrap it up, because I know you are a man of few words.  Do you have any advice for grieving dads?

Nick: Find people that you can talk to.  Hopefully it is your spouse or significant other.  Hopefully you have friends close enough, family close enough, that you can talk to about these things too. Find some way to actively grieve, something I think I 'm still struggling with.  I don’t know how to actively grieve.  I don’t know what that means really. 

Lindsey: Thanks Nick, for participating today.  I think you gave others a needed glimpse into what it is like to be a grieving dad.  

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If you are a grieving dad, or a partner to a grieving dad, below are some great resources to check out and help both of you understand more about what it's like to be a bereaved father. 

Resources:
Healing A Father's Grief, by William H. Schatz
Strong and Tender: A Guide For Fathers Whose Baby Has Died, by Pat Schwiebert
Still Standing Magazine : Author Paul De Leon's Articles on Being a Father of Child Loss

 
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