This was not the post I thought I would be writing today.  I actually didn’t think I would be writing any post today as my computer isn’t coming until tomorrow, but my heart, head and eyes are so full I bundled myself up late at night and went in search of a computer, any computer I could use to get my feelings out.

I was at the hospital in the middle of an icky 4-hour ultrasound and OBGYN appointment when I got a call from Casey that shattered my heart.

Maddie Spohr passed away yesterday.

She was 17-months old.

Have you ever seen such a spunky, lively, beautiful little angel?  I know when I first saw this photo, my heart MELTED. She’s always been such a beautiful little elf that seemed to get more gorgeous with each passing photo I saw.

Maddie’s mom, Heather is a dear friend and I love her. She has always been there to lend an ear, be a dork with me on Twitter late into the night and she listened to me talk about my son Matthew that passed away. Maddie was 11 wks premature and though she was still with Heather, she could understand much of what I went through because a very ill baby gives you much more insight than most people.

And now it absolutely kills me, and every other parent that has been through this, that she understands EVERYTHING that my heart went through and I am aching for her and her family.

And sweet, sweet little Maddie.

The world lost a beautiful, spirited soul with her passing.

Getting news like this in the hospital right down the hall from where I lost my son was horrible. The smells, the sounds…man.  The memories of sheer hell came reeling back in. I’m also hormonal as hell and it just made my chest ache and ache. 

It took a few minutes after I hung up the phone with Casey for the shock to wear off and then, well…I just cried and cried for EVERYONE.

And haven’t really stopped.

I had been offline so long I didn’t even know she was sick. I am so grateful to everyone who called to warn me of this news before coming back online. It would have been beyond shocking to open my computer to this tomorrow, Hearing it from friends that love Heather and Maddie was easier.

Please know that I am not trying to make this about me, I’m not. It is just that EVERY mom who has lost a child hears news like this in a very personal way.  It is not our child but it is not far from it. They ALL seem to be “our children”, if that makes sense. It rips open old wounds and the compassion felt for other parents with lost children can be acute. Especially when you know and love them. It is a horrible, heartbreaking club we are all in.

I wish beyond anything that Mike and Heather did not know the pain that they do tonight.

But there are a couple of things I want to throw out there as a mom who has been there if you are wondering how to help a grieving family:

It is hard to be the friend of someone suffering through such a huge loss. Everyone feels inadequate with how to help and what to do. Nothing will make it better but support is vital. Especially down the road.

Please if you know Heather and Mike, just continue to be there. They will have so much love and support right now and SO MUCH TO DO, but down the road is very…tough and lonely.

Please remember them in the coming year and always.

Remember Maddie on her birthday. Christmas. Thanksgiving. Mother’s Day. Father’s Day. Her “anniversary”. These holidays can beat the hell out of grieving people.

Don’t ask if you can do anything, just DO. THEY probably don’t know what they need and probably do not have the energy to figure it out.

Send an email in a few weeks. Drop by with bread or see if you can take them to lunch or just sit with them and let them talk about their daughter. Offer condolances in the best way you can. A simple “I am so sorry for your loss” goes a very long way.  (Personally-I would try to avoid making them feel better by offering reasons of “why” or looking for a silver lining, telling them they can try again or that God has a reason for this. People can be sensitive to things like this. Just my 2-cents.) 

At the end of the day though, speak up and don’t shy away from them because you feel awkward. NO ONE KNOWS WHAT TO SAY during times like this. Even me and I have been there. You can only do your best.

And remember that everyone grieves differently. Just…allow them to do it the way that they need to. Their way may be different from how you expect it to be.

Maddie’s parents request a donation to The March of Dimes to honor her memory and help research to stop the premature birth of infants.

I can’t type more, my heart is full and my eyes are leaking too much to see the screen.

Goodnight sweet Maddie. I’m sending my sweet little bug to come and play with you. I know you’ll look out for each other.