Fifth Room on the Left

Dear Holden,

There is this room that I have not entered since I left it.  It is a room where my life changed and my dreams were shattered.  In this room, I saw fear in Gigi and Grandma Wamsley’s eyes as I was rushed away to save my life.  This room seemed as if it was closed off from the rest of the world and I was terrified to leave it.  This room was dark and small with four walls that seemed to close in more every day.   This room was filled with tears and sadness yet your beautiful face brought some light.  To most, this room is simply the fifth room on the left but, to me, it is where I changed into the person I am today. 

I had not entered this room since leaving it with empty arms and a heavy heart.  As I left this room, the world I had known was not there and I was faced with this strange environment that I would have to become reacquainted with.  The world I knew had happy endings, babies were born alive and dreams came true.  The world I knew was ready to welcome you and embrace you as you grew into a young man.  This world was now gone and I was lost.  How do you move on when your heart feels as if it has stopped?  How do face your reality yet hold onto your past?  How can I possibly move forward when it means leaving a part of you behind?  How does one feel so blessed and so empty at the same time?  These are the questions I have battled with since we said our goodbyes.

Over the last 12 weeks, I have faced a lot of demons.  I have seen that life moves forward even when you protest.  I have returned to work and was welcomed with open, loving arms.  Each day at work, I look down the hall that leads towards that room…the fifth room on the left.  I knew that I had to go to that room again.  I knew that I had to face my fear as it would help me move forward.  I had to see it as just a room and not a place where my dreams died.  I knew I had to do it and this past Friday, I did it. 

After my shift, I walked towards the OB unit.  As I opened the doors leading into the unit, I could feel my heart pounding in my chest.  My hands became sweaty and I almost turned around and ran away as fast I could.  However, I felt a supernatural pull that forced me down the hall.  It was so quiet in the hall.  Three of Mommy’s friends saw me and said ‘hi’.  All I could reply with was “I have to do it” over and over again.  I wasn’t really telling them, I was telling it to myself…out loud.  I could feel the tears coming and my breath getting shallow.  Right before I walked into the room, I felt a wave of emotions hit me.  It was as if the air within that room was thicker than anywhere else.  My tears began to flood as I looked around this empty room.  This room that was overflowed with sadness just twelve weeks ago was just four walls with a bed and a table.  This room that was tomb-like looked so big and bright.  A couple of Mommy’s friends comforted her and then left me to be alone.  I laid my head into my hands upon the headboard and said a prayer.  I asked God to watch over you until I could take over.  I told you to be a good boy and help your brother.  I told you how much I loved you and Ricky and that I wished you were here with us.  I cried and cried until I felt the sadness leave my body.  I knew that this was now just a room…a room where happiness occurs more than sadness.  It did not define who I was.  I needed to break free from those four walls and find life anew.  I don’t know where life will go from here but I promise to you that I will do my best to live my life for myself as well as for all five of you beautiful babies of mine.  I will be a better wife to your amazing Daddy and try to help him along his journey as I know his heart is broken too.  I promise I will try to help others who also feel lost and hope I can guide them along this path.  Most of all, I promise I will face my fears and continue to move forward as I know you want this for me.  I will lovingly mother you and your brother through my actions until I can hold you again.  I promise.

Love Conquers All- September 6, 2014

Dear Holden,


I am where I did not want to be. I knew that this time would come as I know myself all too well. With the girls going back to school and my return to work in the near future, I knew I would go into survival mode. It is the mode where you spend each day doing task after task to keep yourself busy and your mind from wandering. Half o...f the house has been repainted, the family organization center is up and running and even the linoleum in the bathroom has a spot where I actually rubbed the color off from cleaning it too hard with a scrub brush. Now, I sit with my mind wandering but there are no tasks to be done. The laundry is drying, the dishes are clean and the house is quiet. For the last couple of weeks, I have been fighting every urge to allow my sadness to crawl its way out. I have forced it down demanding my soul to keep the tears at bay. There is not time for sadness now, I tell myself. There is far too much to do. I have tried to avoid everything baby related even blocking certain things from my Facebook newsfeed to avoid any triggers. I haven’t even cried in the last two weeks. Sure, I have had a few misty eye moments but I haven’t had a good ugly cry in a while. The kind of cry that makes your head hurt for hours and feel as if you’ve been punched in the gut. I just won’t allow myself to do it. There is a constant battle between my heart and my head. The show must go on whether I want it to or not. When in public, I smile politely, share small talk and say ‘good’ or ‘okay’ when asked how I am doing. What I really want to say is how every moment I have to battle my heart to keep going and keep beating. Each day, I am reminded of this permanent void that will never be filled. I am reminded that I no longer have the luxury of going through life being able to tuck all of my babies into bed at night. Knowing all of this is a heavy burden to bear and some days I simply do not feel strong enough to carry it. This is the ugly truth of a grieving mother.

I know you are trying to let your Momma know it is okay to listen to my heart but I cannot bear the thought that my sadness comes from the loss of you. You sent me the hummingbird again and I denied your request for me to mourn you. I just couldn’t do it. Not after being strong for so long. I looked outside and saw the beautiful sunflower that bloomed and I found myself getting lost in that image. I just stared as if it was the first time I had ever seen such a magnificent creation. My heart whispered to me but my mind drowned it out. I started to feel as if I don’t deserve you, my beautiful angel. I thought about how horrible of a person I am to ignore the fact that you lived for eight months within me and deny you my pain. I worried that I was not allowing your sisters the opportunity to mourn since I was not being as open as before. One day, I almost became jealous of your brother living life oblivious to the sadness that surrounds us but I know one day he will feel the heartache of not having his brothers to grow up with. I am not alone in this sadness. I see the pain in your sisters’ eyes as they speak your name. I hear Brynly’s words when she talks about how she misses you and Harper’s stories about how you are with her all the time. Last night, I watched Harper hold you and sing to you as she rocked back and forth. I wonder if you felt her arms wrapped around you. I wonder if you heard her singing to you. I wonder if you know how truly loved and missed you are. I wonder if you feel my inner battle or hear my silent prayers. I wonder if you sit by your Daddy as he cries at night before coming to bed. I wonder
if it is you that Lydon looks at as he is falling asleep. I wonder if you felt him kiss the beautiful wooden box that holds your earthly remains. I wonder if you cry because you miss us. I wonder if you and Ricky talk about how much you cannot wait to see us again one day.


My mind is left to wonder but I feel a sense of peace as I have finally allowed myself to cry a good, ugly cry. I know that to be strong, I must allow myself to be weak. I know that there is nothing wrong with feeling sad and wanting to shut out the world while you take a moment to break down. I just needed a break from the waves of emotions and learn how to swim again. I needed to go into a state of numbness to allow some of my wounds to scab over. I needed to go to a place of ignorance and get a taste of life without grief….just for a moment….just enough for me to breathe before diving back in. I have been chosen to be your Mommy and that is something I cannot ignore. Just know that there will be times where I need to step away and breathe. Life is moving forward and try as I might, I cannot stop it. No matter how busy life will get, I will always be just one thought away from you and Ricky. I promise that your Momma will always come back and each time I will be a little bit stronger. Having you and your brother has awakened a strength within me that I did not know was possible. It is a strength that only a chosen few will know. In a way, I feel honored to be awakened to such a strength and ability to see life with brand new eyes. I see the blessings that surround me and that love truly conquers all. Love will always bring me back to where I should be. I am a mother to five beautiful souls, three who walk this earth while the others soar.

Moving Forward- August 23, 2014

Dear Holden,

Some days I wake up so mad. Other days I wake up with tears in my eyes. There are even days where I just wake up, void of any emotion. Grief is such a complicated process with surprises around every corner and this is one ride I never wanted to take. Sometimes, I find myself okay with things I thought would trigger a response only to have something completely out of the blue knock me to my knees. The sight of a baby doesn’t upset me. I can even touch them without breaking down but when I hear their cry, the demand for a mother’s touch, my heart shatters knowing I never got to hear you cry. I imagine in my head what your cry would have sounded like. Some babies have quiet cries while others sound like a pterodactyl. Some have a cry that will melt your heart with its sweetness while some will make you cringe. I think you would have had a sweet cry, one that would have been accompanied by a pouty, quivering lip and an even sweeter personality. My heart aches knowing that all I have are the thoughts of who you would have been.

When I was pregnant with you, I was caring for a lovely lady who had started her journey to Heaven. She had the most loving family who stayed at her bedside continuously. One of the family members who stood vigil was her young grandson. He was about 11-13 years old and showed an immense love for his grandmother. He was shy, polite and always concerned about others’ well being. He was such a sweet boy who seemed to have so much love to give. I kept thinking to myself how blessed I would be to have a boy like him. He even collected heart shaped rocks that he found randomly and gave a rock to each person who cared for his grandmother. He was such a lovely soul and his name was Holden. The name Holden wasn’t just a bunch of letters to me anymore. It was a description of a gentle soul with a loving heart. It described a boy who never ran out of hugs and loved his Momma. It described a boy who would cry when others were hurt and always listened. I felt a connection to that name as it was demonstrated so beautifully by that young boy in the hospital room. I knew I met that sweet boy for a reason and, because of that, I named you Holden. Your middle name was already chosen. It would be James in honor of your Papa who I know you would have loved dearly as your brother and sisters do.

I know that my lap would never be empty with you around. I know you would have been a Momma’s boy and I would have loved it. Your brother is more of a Daddy’s boy and, sometimes, I find myself angry that I was robbed of that bond because you were taken from me. Although my arms are filled with love from your brother and sisters, they will never be full. This is a feeling that only other angel parents know, the feeling of loss amongst so many blessings. It is an ache that will never fade, only get easier to bear as life pushes us forward. Part of me is ready to move forward from this daily chore of trying to be strong while my heart feels weak but part of me wants to plant my roots directly into this hole and never let go. I fear that moving forward means leaving you behind. In a way, my sadness connects me to you as it is all I know right now. My obsession over your belongings, pictures and medical records brings me back to those days in the hospital where I had you in my arms. In those days, I was shut off from the world in my own dream land where I wasn’t sure what was real. I was able to trick my mind into thinking that it would all be okay. Stepping out of that hospital door, I was slapped with reality as I was wheeled to the car with empty arms. The drive home was quiet and I just stared out the window. It was as if I was seeing the world for the first time. It was so foreign, empty. It was a world without you, not the world I was looking forward to sharing with you.

One night this week, I sat with other angel parents and we talked about you and your friends. In our darkest moments, the strongest bonds are formed and in my friendship with these beautiful souls I have found a strength I never knew possible, a strength to carry on when it would just be easier to give up. A strength fueled by the intense need to honor our little ones who left us too soon. In a way, this new world is not as scary as it seemed seven weeks ago but it still makes me uneasy at times. I know it will take time but I will eventually become comfortable with my new surroundings. I will adapt and make it work, not moving on but moving forward with honoring you as my motivation. I know you want Momma to be strong and I promise you I will do my best to make you proud. Just like the hummingbird you sent me, you were here for only a moment but my heart smiles thinking of you giving me hope that everything will be okay.

Day of Hope- August 19, 2014

Dear Holden,


Today is the International Day of Hope, a day where bereaved families can help break the silence and speak openly about the little ones who took a piece of their hearts to Heaven. I feel like every day should be a day of hope where our babies’ names are spoken without hesitation. Unfortunately, this is not always the case since there ...tends to be a discomfort associated with baby loss. The expected cycle of life starts with birth and ends with death. It is uncomfortable to think that death can occur before birth. It is a reminder of our mortality and I am now a walking reminder that life is not always a guarantee.

Even though I have been blessed with amazing support and love, I feel like sometimes when a person asks ‘How are you doing?’ they are only wanting a sugar coated answer because the truth may be too much. The fact that they even asked the question in the first place, though, reminds me that you, your brother and all the other little angels are not forgotten. But, is it enough for those of us who wake up to our heartbreak every morning? Is it enough to just say ‘I’m okay’ knowing you cried yourself to sleep last night just like every other night this week? Is it enough to only speak of our little ones openly in private support groups or in hushed voices in public? Parents with empty arms awaken everyday to reminders of what they lost which only makes the silence louder. For me, I have been blessed with the support to speak openly but I know this is not the case for everyone. For some, it is their personal choice to remain quiet but some have been met with negativity when expressing their grief. This saddens me as I know all too well how much grief can eat away at your soul. Grief truly is a cancer of the soul that only unending love and support can cure.


Every day, I see reminders of how we were ready for you to be here. I see the blankie I bought you that your brother has now claimed. I see the new buckle, as part of a recall, for your car seat that came in the mail after you were born. I even bought a new sling for carrying you around and I was so excited to use it. The sling and buckle still sit on the kitchen counter because removing it reminds me of what we do not have. I have already packed away your clothes and the breast pump not knowing if I will ever need them again. That is a story that has yet to be written. You were supposed to be the ending to this chapter of our lives. I am not sure if I will ever be ready to turn the page.


This weekend, we were at a family wedding and I was so worried about how I would handle it. You should have been there being passed around from person to person having your fat, little cheeks kissed nonstop. You should have been dressed in the outfit I bought for you that matched Lydon’s outfit. You should have been there lying on my chest as I watched your sisters dance all night long. I almost felt lost without you but I was able to speak of you openly among our amazing family and friends.

The next morning, we were sitting in the front lounge of the hotel and Brynly was sitting in a chair holding sweet Emma. A lady sitting in a couch across from Bryn asked if Emma was her sister. She said no but then explained that she had a sister and brother. Then, without hesitation, she said that she had two brothers in Heaven. She told the lady about you and Ricky in the most beautiful way. I could see the smile and love in her eyes as
she spoke of you two. She was as proud as a big sister should be. I could tell that the lady was uncomfortable at first but she relaxed as Bryn spoke so lovingly about how you were so cute and that she got to hold you. She said that Ricky just started to grow when he went to Heaven before we got to meet him. I didn’t stop Brynly because I feel like she should be able to talk about her angel brothers openly and unapologetically. It was almost a perfect ending to the weekend. It reminded me that even when life isn’t as planned, it should still be celebrated because every moment is a gift. You and Ricky were a gift. You have reminded me to breathe in those moments and never take life for granted. I will not let your deaths haunt me; I will let them inspire me. With pride and sadness in my heart, I will speak your names often. <3 <3 Holden James and Ricky Roger <3 <3

Firefly- August 12, 2014

Dear Holden,

You were on my mind a lot today. Actually, you are on my mind everyday but today was more than normal. Brynly is just getting over strep throat and now Lydon is dealing with it along with teething. I keep wondering how it would be with you here. Would I be stressed to the max with sick kids and a newborn? Would I be running on lit...tle sleep and act crabby towards your Daddy? I am pretty sure the answer to both questions would be ’yes’ but what I wouldn’t give to have those problems if it meant you were here.

Tonight, as I rocked your brother in the same rocking chair your Grandpa Russell was rocked in as a baby; I closed my eyes and pretended it was you in my arms. My heart ached knowing that I would never rock you or feel your chest rise and fall. I know you will never experience pain or sadness, loneliness or heartache but my heart sinks knowing that I will never be able to hold you while you fever or put a band-aid on your teeny-tiny scratch just to make you feel better. I will never be able to tell you it will all be okay after a bad day at school. I will never get to dry your tears or pretend to be mad at Daddy for giving you ice cream before supper because he feels bad for you. I will never get to hear you say “Thanks, Mommy, I feel better”. I will never be able to make it better for you because, my sweet boy, you have absolute peace.

I opened my eyes and looked at the precious gift within my arms, your brother. How can someone feel so blessed and so empty at the same time? I could hear his slow breathing signaling that he had finally fallen asleep. I closed my eyes again and went back to the first night after you were born. I was so tired from all that had happened and was lying in bed with you in my arms. I was listening to your Gigi talk to one of the nurses, Brenda. They were sitting at the table across the room from Mommy and I fell asleep to the sounds of their voices. I slept for about an hour with you in my arms and it was pure bliss. I awoke to the heavy feeling of you in my arms and, for a second, I became hopeful that this was all a dream and I would see your tiny chest rise and fall or see your beautiful dark eyes open. Life now feels like a dream and I am waiting to wake up. As each day rolls by, I realize more and more that the only time things seem right is when I am asleep and dreaming of life with you in it. I no longer have the luxury of life as it was before. I try to stay strong but my heart feels so weak sometimes. I feel the pain of heartache everyday and I know it will always be there. I almost welcome this heartache as it is a reminder of my love for you and how much you are still a part of me.

After Lydon went to sleep, I was watching your sisters run around in the backyard trying to catch fireflies. There was only a few in the yard and they were flying too fast for the girls to catch. I went out and tried for a bit but kept failing. Just when I was about ready to give up, I looked down. Right in front of my foot, there was a firefly all lit up. It didn’t blink or dim. It remained lit up until I was able to catch it in the dark grass and give it to your sisters. The girls named him Flicker and said he was your pet. It was almost like you knew Mommy needed that. You needed me to know that no matter how hard life may seem sometimes, if you look in the right place you can find those happy moments again. I know you are watching and trying so hard to make Mommy happy. I am finding those happy moments again and feel at peace knowing that someday I will be able to hold you in my arms again. Until then, I will see you in my dreams.

Mother of Two Angels- August 5, 2014

Dear Holden,

I never thought that I would be in this position, a position that too many mothers find themselves in. Instead of a birth announcement, I drafted a thank-you letter for the paper. Instead of writing your milestones in a baby book, I am filing away test results and stillbirth paperwork. Instead of caring for you, I am gazing at an ur...n and feeling so empty knowing that all I have are memories of a life that was stolen before birth. Instead of wrapping you in your blankie, I am hugging it and hoping to get a small scent of you. I have to remind myself each day that this is not a dream. This is my life now, a life where I am the mother of two angels.

When we lost Ricky, we were devastated. We found out that there was no heartbeat on Valentine’s Day at 9 weeks. It felt like the wind was knocked out of me when those words were spoken “I’m so sorry”. I mourned, cried and got angry but I didn’t fully process our loss at the time. Not that I wanted to ignore our loss but I kept thinking to myself that it could have been worse. I was guilty of feeling like my loss was not as devastating as others. I now know that is not true. When Cristina was in the hospital with us, she asked if we had named our first angel. We told her that we did not and it made me sad to say that. It was almost a sign and we decided to name our first angel Ricky, which was the name Brynly had picked out for you. I was excited to tell her and when I did, she said “I thought it was Roger”. That is how your angel brother came to be named Ricky Roger. I was surprised at how naming him felt like a completion to that chapter and it allowed me to finally acknowledge him the way I should have years ago.

Tomorrow, it will be one month from when we heard those words yet again. I didn’t believe it. How could this be? The night before, we were all in the living room watching you wiggle around in my belly. You were so active, so alive. Even Lydon got to feel you move around and, thankfully, I took a picture. We were so happy and excited for the next chapter of our life. I went to bed that night thinking about how we were going to meet you in about a week. My heart was so happy. My precious baby, this is not how I thought it would be.

At work the next day, Mommy was busy and you were quiet as usual while I was walking around. At one point, I sat down to chart and something didn’t seem right. You were still quiet. I had a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach but I tried to remain calm. I tried and tried to get a heartbeat but there was nothing but static. Before I went over to OB, I knew there was something wrong but I didn’t want to listen to my heart. I imagined myself walking over there, having them find your heartbeat right away, telling me you looked great and going home for the day. When I saw your precious profile on the ultrasound with your silent heart, my heart screamed for me to listen. If I just ignored it, it wouldn’t be true. If I just curled up and ignored everything else, my baby would be fine. When your Daddy showed up with the indescribable pain in his eyes, I knew that the truth could no longer be ignored.

I drifted in and out of sleep that night, dreaming of you and waking to a nightmare. My dreams for you faded away and were replaced with a pain no parent should bear. When I gazed upon your beautiful face, you looked so peaceful as if you knew how loved you are. Your Gigi said that when your Daddy carried you back to our room in the white scrubs he was wearing; it was as if an angel was carrying you. In the face of tragedy, it is those small moments of peace that carry you through. Knowing that you are so loved brings me peace but I would give anything to hold you in my arms again even if just a moment. My love for you will never fade.

My precious angels, though we may not carry you in our arms, we will carry you in our hearts forever.

Dear Holden- August 1, 2014

Dear Holden,

This Sunday, August 3rd, marks your due date and four weeks since we learned you would not be coming home with us. My whole world stopped in that moment and I have been trying to find a way to move forward. I have found that writing to you helps especially on my bad days. Today, I was thinking about how I should be holding you in my... arms and how you would be 3 weeks old on Monday if everything had gone as planned. Instead, I sit here and type through blurry, tear filled eyes and wonder why, how and what if.

Ever since I knew of your existence, I have dreamed about you. I dreamed about what you would look like and what your personality would be like. I imagined how you and your brother would have so much fun together going to Daddy’s shop and working on cars. I was excited to see how your sisters and brother would react to you, especially Lydon. I couldn’t wait to feed you, dress you, bathe you, kiss you, snuggle you. You were going to be my forever baby.

Now, all I have is those dreams and wishes for you. I bet you would have been a Momma’s boy with a gentle soul. I bet you would have followed Lydon around mimicking his every move. I bet you would have loved hugs and kisses from your big sisters. I bet you would have loved movie nights and popcorn. I wish I could have seen these things as you grew into a young man. I wish I could have held you longer. I wish I could touch your hair one more time. I wish I could kiss your sweet face again and whisper ‘I love you’ in your ear. I wish I was tired from having a newborn at home and not from trouble sleeping knowing the weight of our new reality. I wish things were the way they should have been.

Our time in the hospital is such a blur. I was living in a sea of emotions, medication and exhaustion. The anesthetist said a quiet prayer with Mommy before Daddy came into the operating room. I then silently prayed that the nurses and doctor were wrong and we would hear you cry when you were born, that you would be a miracle baby, my miracle. My prayers went unanswered. Instead, the room was silent except for the sound of the doctors working. I remember looking at you for the first time and seeing how perfect you were, how alive you looked. Yet, no cries came from your mouth and I knew then my life would never be the same.

I am no longer the woman I was before. A piece of my heart now resides in Heaven and the hole is replaced with the heavy feeling that something will always be missing. Brynly told me the other day that I was the saddest person in the house because I cry all the time. I try to be strong but in the quiet moments of the day, I feel the weight of our new life and my emotions overflow. However, I know it will get better. I have seen other Mommas who have been to the same Hell and back. I have seen them use their loss as a way to help others and bring awareness to something that has been silent for too long. I have seen them hold you in their arms and relive their nightmares. I have had them reach out with their heart breaking stories after 5, 10, even 20+ years of keeping quiet. I have seen the pain in their eyes that only other Angel Mommas would recognize. It is a group that you do not want to be a part of but I am so thankful for each and every one of them. They have reminded me that it is okay to not be okay and that healing is very different for everyone.
I am trying to embrace this new normal as I know you would want us to move forward and find happiness again but it sure is hard. I know we are blessed and have so much love surrounding us but it would be a lot better if you were here. I made a promise to myself that I will speak of you often and keep your memory alive. If I can help just one person by speaking of you then I know I am doing the right thing. I know you are watching and I want to make you proud because I am so very proud to be your Mommy.