by Katrina Heimberger
My son has recently died. This has been very devastating for me and my
husband. We have battled infertility for three years and were very
excited when I finally became pregnant. My pregnancy was very hard. I
bled several times and was put on bed rest for most of the pregnancy.
Our child suffered from severe interuterine growth retardation for
reasons still unknown. He was delivered 13 weeks premature because it
was determined that he could no longer survive in utero. Nicholas was
born on August 4, 1997, weighing only 14.6 ounces, he died five days
later on August 9. 1997. Life without our child we have been dreaming
of has been very difficult for me to handle. I have written a couple of
poems that I would like to submit to you. (September 11, 1997)
I hold a box instead of a baby.
It's not to replace him.
It's all I have of him.
It hold his things, hospital records, his baby book, cards from
family and friends and some pictures.
I have memories of what little time we shared together,
I cherish them dearly and they are never far from my thoughts.
My arms ache to hold him.
So, I hold a box.
We got the dreaded call late one night.
We knew in our hearts, it was the end of your five day fight.
Though, during our hour drive,
Being parents, we were still praying and hoping that you were alive.
When we arrived to your room we could see the answer in the
Then he took my hand and told us of your fate.
We cried and thought, "This isn't fair!",
For we had tried so long and hard for the love of a
family we could share.
We held you tightly in our arms,
Memorizing every little feature that was uniquely your charms.
You were so tiny being three months premature,
But we could still see you looked like us that's for sure!
You had daddy' s blue eyes, and your mommy's nose,
Your daddy's blonde hair and your mommy's toes.
Saying good-bye to you was the hardest thing we have ever faced,
You are our first born, our son and you can never be replaced.
We left the hospital that night filled with such sorrow,
Wondering what life without you, Nicholas, would be tomorrow.
Our days are a little darker, our nights a little longer,
But knowing you're with God we can feel a little stronger.
All we have now are memories and a box that holds your things,
Still praying and hoping we'll have that love that having a
family can bring.
written by Katrina Heimberger
In loving memory of Nicholas Allen Heimberger, son of
Allen and Katrina Heimberger. We will love you forever!
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