Shiloh’s Birth Month: A Blur of Love and Loss

Time feels distorted when wrapped in grief. The details blur, but the emotions stay raw and intense. I can’t remember the exact date my daughter, Shiloh, was born or the date she left us. What I do remember is how it fell around my birthday, a time that should have been filled with joy but instead became a whirlpool of beeping machines, whispered prayers, and aching hope.

I woke up on my birthday feeling grateful that Shiloh was still with us, still fighting. I held onto that gratitude tightly. But beyond that feeling, everything else faded into a fog. When the doctors took her off the ECMO machine, the downhill spiral began. They had warned us that if a baby is on ECMO for more than 24 hours, it is typically a bad sign. Shiloh was on ECMO longer than her doctors wanted her to.

The Blurred Days

The days blurred together into a routine of hospital visits, whispered medical updates, and the silent screams of a mother waiting in anguish. Each hour felt like a year, filled with anxiety. I often found myself gazing out the hospital window, desperately seeking solace from the outside world. Yet the only thing I felt was the heavy weight of uncertainty.

In those moments, time felt suspended. Each tick of the clock mocked me—a cruel reminder of what was at stake. I clung to the hope that Shiloh would beat the odds, but the more I hoped, the more I feared. It was a constant struggle, a heartbreaking tug-of-war between love and despair.

First Glimpse of Love

Yet, there is one moment that stands out clearly—seeing her for the very first time. I had just gone through a C-section but I was determined to see her, pain or not.

I have a picture from that day; it’s the most personal and painful image I own. It shows me gazing at her strong, beautiful body, tangled in tubes and wires. She wasn’t tiny—she had a presence filled with life, despite the challenges she faced. I never got to hold her, but I did get to touch her. I recognized her, and I felt she knew me in that instant.

A Blur of Love and Loss - Tiny Toes in The Hospital

The Care and Love We Shared

We poured our love into every waking moment with Shiloh. We pumped breast milk, watched her sleep, and prayed for her. Each drop of milk was a symbol of our love and desperation, a physical way to nourish our fragile daughter. I barely acknowledged my own pain—my infected C-section, the exhaustion, the emotional toll. None of it mattered. All that mattered was her.

Every minute spent in the NICU felt terrifying yet beautiful. I cherished the small victories, like the moments when her heart rate stabilized. I was often lost in hope, grappling with the reality that loomed so heavily around us. It was a delicate dance, trying to balance the joy of motherhood with the fear of losing her forever.

Three Weeks that Changed Everything

Shiloh was with us for three weeks. Three weeks of love, fear, hope, and heartbreak. Each day became a vivid chapter in a story filled with both pain and remarkable love.

I began to understand that love in times of grief goes beyond physical presence. It’s not defined by the time we have but by the bond we create. This experience reshaped my understanding of motherhood, showing me that being a mother means fighting for your child, even when the odds seem insurmountable. It is about making memories, cherishing each heartbeat and moment, regardless of how fleeting they may be.

Moving Forward with Grief

As I navigate life after those unforgettable three weeks, I have become more aware of how fleeting time can be. Birthdays now serve as reminders—not just of joy but also of the delicate nature of existence. I have learned to embrace both memories and grief, allowing my heart to hold joy and sorrow together.

Grief is a weight I will carry forever, yet it also signifies my love for Shiloh. While I cannot change what happened, I can honour her by sharing my story and connecting with others who may understand this deep heartache. In sharing, there is healing.

Reflecting on A Blur Love and Loss

Time may feel strange in grief, but it can also be a captivating experience of love. My journey with Shiloh taught me the immense power of a mother’s love, even amid uncertainty and loss.

As the details fade, the emotions remain vivid and timeless. Even as I continue my life without her, I carry the lessons and love from those three weeks. They serve as a reminder that despite heartbreak, life can foster deep emotional connections and personal transformation. I haven't been the same. Even though it was a blur of love and loss, I still carry the love I have for her today.

Ultimately, I choose to honour Shiloh by embracing love and loss, recognizing that my journey is defined by the time we had and the profound love we shared.