Alex-Stillborn Angel

Pure and innocent ~ just like my stillborn son.

Pure and innocent ~ just like my stillborn son.

~ ~ Alex’s Story ~ ~
Born November 15
Shared from the heart
by his Mother, Julie.


Bacon.

I can’t even fry it up now without thinking about that day.
My husband was wanting a big breakfast,
so I started frying the bacon.
He told me to leave his kind of ‘flabby’ and not too crisp.

As the meat was frying, I pulled his out, placed it on a plate, and stuck it in the microwave for safe keeping while I let the rest fry to “normal”.

He came in and poured himself a glass of milk and saw  the bacon in the pan frying to a crisp.  All of a sudden, he threw the milk in my face and yelled, “ONE simple request and you refused!  You can’t even fry bacon!!  You are totally worthless!” and then he stormed angrily to the back of the house.

With tears, and milk in my eyes, I got the plate out of the microwave, set it on the table, turned off the stove, and went into the living room to take my 1 year old for a little car ride.  Daddy was MAD, and I was pregnant, so to leave the situation would probably be best.
That is, until he heard the door close!  He came outside and turned into the most violent person I had ever met….
THIS was my HUSBAND???

What was I going to do?
He was telling me to go ahead and leave,
but was quick to tell me I wasn’t taking our daughter with me.

I said, “You are VERY upset right now, and she doesn’t deserve to see you acting like this.  We’ll be back later.”
And the abuse began.

No regard for the child I was holding in my arms OR carrying in my womb.
It was terrible.

I tried to run, but wasn’t fast enough and he was getting more angry with my every step.
He (and this haunts me) actually knocked my daughter from my arms and I dropped her,
which allowed him to snatch her up and run into the house and lock the doors.

I was hurt.
Really hurt.
Physically, mentally and emotionally.

And now, this monster that I didn’t know, had my baby inside the house that I could not get in.  To make a long story a bit shorter; I left, called 911 and he was taken away to jail.
For the weekend!

Then, he came back to the house to finish what he had started.
He kicked in the door and really let me have it.

My daughter was asleep in her crib, and I BEGGED him to stop, reminding him that I was pregnant, but he wanted to give me a “real good reason to call 911 this time!”  And he did.  It was worse than before.

Then- – - he took my daughter and drove away.

I tried to call 911 again, but he had cut the outside phone wires, and I had no cell phone at that time.  I ran to a neighboring house, called the police, and they found him and put him back in jail.
For the weekend – - – again.

He got out after his weekend “slap on the wrist” and then the torment and stalking started.
I went through more fear, phone calls, late nights, early mornings, running me off of the road, dire threats because I put him in jail, and “nobody has permission to ruin his life.”

He choked me at the front door when I came “home” with groceries one night and told me,
“When you wake up in the mornings, don’t thank God…..thank ME!”
That’s when I knew that I was in real danger and I had to get out – - – NOW!

No money- – - no job.
I was just going to be a “Mommy”, but that wasn’t how my life would go.
I was sick now.
A nervous wreck at all times.
No sleep.
Just fear.

I didn’t want to tell my family about all of this, but I had no other choice.
My health was suffering and I had an appointment with my doctor the next day.
I needed help in the worst way, and my mom and my sister were right there to pick up the pieces.  They found me a rental, bought me a little car, and would keep me hidden away for awhile.

The doctor’s appointment was one that I will never forget.
She asked me what was wrong with me.
She said that I looked sad and very tired.
She saw the bruises and started asking questions until I broke down.
She said that it wasn’t doing my baby any good that I was going through all of this, so she ordered an ultrasound.

FINALLY- – - the silver lining around this dark cloud of mine.
Just show me my little boy’s heartbeat, and that little hand again
and I will once again feel like life is truly worth living!  ♥

WHAT???
NO HEARTBEAT???
Oh PLEASE try again!
No Blood flow???
WHAT HAPPENED!?!?
Don’t tell me this!!!!!
I can’t take this!!
NO! NO! NO!

My doctor and the 2 nurses wept with me.
The nurse tried to explain to me that all of the abuse I went through just wasn’t good for my precious little boy and I was too stressed to stay pregnant.

She repeated the ultrasound 3 more times and I finally knew the truth.

I had to give birth to my baby boy, and no matter how much I wanted to I would not get to take him home with me.

I had no strength.
I could barely get out of bed (well, a couch) in the mornings.
My heart can’t handle this.
I just wanted to die too…
The nurse told me that the baby was going to make me much sicker.
The best thing for my body was to deliver the baby.
Plans were made to induce labor the next morning.

It was a slow, horrible drive back to my “place.”
It was the hardest group of phone calls I had ever made.
I had to tell “my husband” though; so, with much trepidation, I made that phone call.

He knew exactly what he had done, but was still being that tough guy.
He said he would be at the hospital in the morning.

The next day- – - Nov 15th, 2002, I was induced.
The pain was excruciating!
The tears just wouldn’t stop.
“He” was there.
He even said while I was in labor,
“We both know what really happened, but if I ever hear you say it out loud, you’ll be sorry. Maybe NOW you will be nicer to me and not make me so mad. You know how to push my buttons and I really wish you would just stop.”

Visitors came in and tried to comfort me.
Family members were waiting outside just in case there was something they could possibly do.  Friends were calling.  A pastor was checking in on me.
No one really knew when this would happen or how long it would take, but the pain was too much.  I asked “him” to go get a nurse to help me.
Everyone was out of the room.

I was alone, and in terrible pain.
Just then, a gush of warm water came out of me,
and there was my precious, precious little boy!

I yelled at the top of my lungs and the room filled with people.

He looked so beautiful.
It was love at first sight…
So red, but still had his tiny little hands with all 10 fingers, all of the tiny toes, little knees, fuzzy blond hair, and he looked like he was sleeping.  The nurse took care of everything around me, and wrapped my little boy in a pretty blue blanket and handed him to me.

She said, “I will leave you alone now.
When you are ready for me to come back to get him, just let me know.”
I said, “But I will NEVER want you to take him away. I can’t imagine pushing that buzzer and saying that I’m ready.  What do you mean?”  She winked at me and said, “Sweetheart, you will know when it’s time.”

Everyone was asking what his name was.
My husband said that we were just going to refer to him as “Baby” and not name him.
I said, “What about the name we were going to give him?  Alex Jay??”
He said, “No- I don’t want to see that in the newspapers and stuff.”

So, I held little Alex as if he were sleeping.
Others held him for a short time, but they knew that I really needed him with me.
I couldn’t take my eyes off of him.

He was perfect.
No reason to die.
Perfect!
Except, as I look down, his little nose was actually starting to disappear.
I panicked!
I quickly buzzed the nurse, and she ran in.
I told her about it!
She reminded me that I would know when it was time to let him go, and this was the time.
She took my little baby from me.
He was gone.
He took a piece of my heart with him that day.

They were checking him all out and were to come back in to give me the report of what they had found wrong.   They returned about 2 hours later and told me what I already knew.
He was perfect!
Everything was there.
The only problem was that my body was under too much stress to carry a baby.
The bruises all over my body told my story better than any words,
and everyone in the room knew it.

My mother cried.
She left the room with my doctor to try to BEG her to help us put my husband in jail
for taking my baby’s life.
The doctor said that it was just too risky for her profession.
There were just too many loopholes since his death wasn’t determined until AFTER the beatings.  My body didn’t bleed right after the beating, so she couldn’t say exactly WHEN Alex’s heart stopped, so because of this she was just going to have to determine him a
still born“.

On the LONG, quiet drive home, I was mad at God.
I asked him over and over again just WHY this happened!!
What did I do to deserve this?
Why were Alex and I the ones who were being punished?
It seemed so unjust and unfair!
WHY?
No answers.
No peace.
Just numbness.

Constant tears.
Hard to breathe.
Hard to talk.
I just wanted to cry and cry and cry.

And I did.

I have never felt depression like this in all of my life.
I was afraid to have Alex buried.
It felt so cold and heartless.
He never got to come home and live with me.
He should have!!!  Oh, how he should have!!!
It just wasn’t fair!

BUT- – - what did God say about cremation??
I don’t care!!!
Which wasn’t totally true…
Yes, I did care… but I was mad!!!

Cremation was the only way I could bring my baby home to be with my daughters and me.
Safe.  I wanted him to be with me.
MY God would be okay with this- – - I’m just sure!!
I wasn’t harming anyone.
I did not find anything about this in the Bible… so I made the arrangements.

He is now home with me and my girls.
We talk about him often, still with LOTS of questions but we are all here together.
AND, we will be together again someday.  ♥

You see- – - I gave up on being mad at God.
I realized (and maybe I am wrong) that He somehow HAD to take Alex
from me to keep us all safe.  ♥

It was CERTAIN that after all that had happened, I was finished
with the evil man that I mistakenly wed.
No more abuse and no more tolerance.

God had helped me to finally realize that I had had enough.

The girls and I are happy now.  ♥
I protect them with everything that I am.
I can breathe again.
I go days without crying, and then I go some days without stopping.
I think that’s just the way it’s going to be.

But- – -Alex is here with us.
I see his beautiful little urn next to the braided glass cross over a Bible opened to Psalms.
We talk to him.  ♥
I love my little boy more than I can express.  ♥
At his birth, I found out he would have been my first (and only) boy.
I was in my 5th month of pregnancy when he was born.

I don’t think many people can understand it all.
It’s such a long story.

Not a happy ending, but just an ending.

And someday- – - a new beginning.  ♥
My story is still very real to me…
Just part of the trials and tribulations we all experience one way or another.
I trust sharing my story will help you through the pain
that comes when dreams are shattered and a part of your heart is
entwined forever with a precious soul living with Jesus in the realms of eternal glory.
Whether we think we deserve them or not- – -
Trials and tribulations come around, and we learn to deal with them.
We HAVE to.
And I now know since I have been through this, I can handle anything.
Nothing compares to the pain, but I now know there are others who know this pain as well.

And there are GOOD fathers out there.
Fathers who are grieving, too. 
Daddies who would never DREAM about treating a person badly.
Let’s not forget them.  ♥

Good Grief and You:
What reminds you of Alex?
Is there anything that is special to you?  Something that makes you think of him every time you see it?

Julie; Alex’s Mother:
What reminds me of Alex is actually pretty strange.
Well- – - two of the things aren’t strange…
Rubber ducks and white roses.

A rubber ducky reminds me of my stillborn son; Alex.

Alex, my stillborn son, and a rubber ducky.

 

Yellow rubber ducks were on the blanket the nurse gave me after Alex was born.
As I gazed into his sweet little face and tried to imprint it upon my memory forever the little yellow rubber ducky was a part of this image.

When I see a yellow rubber ducky I go back to that moment in time when I held my precious son; my only son, in my arms.  ♥

 

 

White Roses remiond me of my stillborn son, Alex.

White Roses remind me of my stillborn son, Alex.

The other thing that reminds me of Alex is White Roses.
The girls I worked with sent me a bouquet of white roses with a letter about how white roses mean “I’m sorry.”
I treasure that letter and most of all I treasure the memory.
Their love and care touched me very deeply.  ♥
When I see white roses I think of how perfect Alex was in every way.  ♥
I think about how much I wanted him…  ♥
I think about how much I still miss him…  ♥
I think about how much I am looking forward to seeing him again!  ♥
Do babies grow up in heaven?

Alex; my stillborn son, a dollar bill, and a memory.

Alex; my stillborn son, a dollar bill, and a memory.

But- – - the other item that reminds me of Alex is a dollar bill!
(a little unusual, I know!!  Here’s THAT story)…….
When Ali got a little bit older and started asking questions about her brother she asked me how big he was when I had him.  I said, “6 inches long.”
She said, “How big is that?”
So, I got out a dollar bill and said,
” THIS big – - – dollar bills are exactly 6 inches long.
So – - – you will always know how big he was!”.
And for the longest time, she would talk to her little friends and say,
“He was as big as a dollar!”  ♥

Alex; my stillborn son, the bleeding heart reminds me of him.

Alex; my stillborn son, the bleeding heart reminds me of him.

Bleeding Hearts are Alex’s flowers.
We planted Bleeding Hearts just for him.
They remind me of him…
How fragile he was…
How my heart bleeds for him
And at the very center of every blossom is pure white.
A representation of tender, pure love that is unspotted, unspoiled and will last
throughout all eternity.  ♥

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