My Eyes Are Begging to Sleep; An Atypical Birth Story

The alarm buzzes.

I struggle to wake.

My eyes are stinging; begging to go back to sleep.

I want this day to be over.

I’m not ready.

It’s not fair; This can’t be happening.

I feel a hand on my back; rubbing for comfort.

My husband is awake.

My body goes through the motions of getting dressed; putting on whatever is on the floor.

I slowly open the door to my kids rooms; give them each a gentle kiss on the forehead.

They are peacefully sleeping.

Unaware.

The car ride is quiet; there is nothing to say.

My husband grabs my hand; we walk through the doors.

That stale smell hits you; the hospital.

I find myself holding my stomach; trying to hold on to him longer.

He’s gone though.

The nurses start talking to me; asking me questions.

I’m in a fog; going through the motions.

Stoic.

Conflicting emotions; wanting this all to be over yet wanting none of this to happen at all.

They take me back; I feel the IV going into my arm.

The mask on my face; drifting off to sleep.

They are taking him.

I feel the sting of my eyes again; for the second time today they don’t want to wake up.

The lights are bright; disoriented.

The pain; the cramps.

I quickly remember; He’s gone.

My husband finds me; His eyes have tears.

Mine have none; I’m numb.

No longer holding my stomach; there’s nothing left.

The world goes on;  no one can see.

My invisible pain for an ‘invisible’ baby; No one knew him like I did.

& now my invisible grief.

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Today marks the 3rd ‘birth’ day of my son Triton who i lost at 13 weeks gestation.  This is his birth story & the most difficult post i’ve written to date.

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Devan McGuinness

is the founder and executive director of the award-winning resource Unspoken Grief .

12 Comments
  1. Thank you for sharing this hard story with all of us. Your grief also helps us heal- and know we are not alone. This site is so important and everything you do is so wonderful. Triton is thanking you for helping others, too. XOXO

  2. Very touching story. I’m really sorry about that loss. A few ago I lost my baby, too. I was two months pregnant. It hasn’t been that tough, though. One of those natural misscariages. Thank you for speaking out about it. Hugs from my corner!

  3. Sending you so much love and comfort sweetheart. There’s nothing I can say to take away your heartache or to make this better. Just know you’re in my thoughts and prayers <3

  4. This is beautiful and heartrendering Devan. My experience was so similar I hope things get a bit easier for you and me and all of us on this site who have lost our children x

  5. Oh this gives me chills. I am so so sorry Devan. I hope this difficult time begins to pass soon because I know the pain always comes in waves. These anniversaries are the worst.

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About Unspoken Grief

Unspoken Grief is a non-profit website dedicated to creating awareness and resources for anyone touched directly or indirectly by miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death.

©Unspoken Grief 2017; Devan McGuinness

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