for Maddie

Yesterday I wrote that post about Maddie being in the hospital, asking for prayers and well wishes. I was worried and a little freaked out, but I thought that surely everything would be alright. Maddie’s been in the hospital before, and she’s always pulled through. She’s a baby, for heaven’s sake. Bad things don’t happen to babies, right?

Unfortunately, I was wrong. Last night I was going to bed, and thought I’d check Twitter on my iPhone one last time. I hadn’t heard an update about Maddie for a while, and I was hoping to hear some good news before I went to bed. I saw an update from Heather, that just said, “Madeline.” It was followed by this link, and when I read the post that said Maddie had passed away, I sat up in bed and started saying, “Oh no, oh god no, oh NO.” I burst into tears, and ran downstairs to tell Dave. I barely managed to get the words out, I was crying so hard. I sat down at my laptop, left a comment on Heather’s blog and sent a few tweets about it, but I honestly can’t remember what I said because I was sobbing and shaking the whole time.

I just can’t wrap my head around it. This isn’t supposed to be the end of Maddie’s story. She wasn’t even 17 months old yet. We were supposed to be reading Heather’s blog in 4 years as she talked about Maddie’s first day of kindergarten. We were supposed to commiserate and laugh along with her in 12 years when Maddie became an insufferable teenager. This just can’t be right. Tragedies like this don’t actually happen to people in real life, do they?

I keep thinking of something I read once: that if you lose your spouse, you’re a widow or widower. If you’re a child who loses your parents, you’re an orphan. But there is no word in the English language for a parent who loses a child. I think that’s because the idea is just too horrible for us to comprehend. It goes against the way the world is supposed to work – the next generation is supposed to grieve the loss of its elders, not the other way around.

Last night when I finally tried to go to sleep, I ended up continuing to read the updates on Twitter, tears dripping onto my iPhone. I desperately wanted to go get Catie out of her crib and bring her to bed to sleep with us for the night, but I didn’t. I don’t remember what time I finally fell asleep. I slept horribly, I kept waking up and thinking about Heather, Mike, and baby Maddie. When Catie woke up, I heard her on the baby monitor, singing the theme song from “Thomas the Tank Engine” quietly to herself in her crib. I started to cry thinking about how lucky I was, and how unfair the world is sometimes. Heather and Mike don’t deserve this pain. Nobody does.

I am just devastated and gutted by this tragedy. It may not seem like much, but if you’re as moved by the Spohrs’ story as I am, please consider giving to the March of Dimes on Maddie’s behalf. They do a lot of work to try to help premature babies like Maddie. Here’s the link to Maddie’s MoD page.

Madeline Alice Spohr, 11/11/07 - 4/7/09

Rest in peace, baby Maddie. You’ve touched the lives of so many, even those who never got a chance to meet you.

5 thoughts on “for Maddie

  1. Thank you for this post. You are so right…it is NOT the way things should have been. I knew of Maddie and her Momma from Matt’s blog and started to follow because she is two days younger than my son. I say is because I don’t want to believe that she is gone. I am going to donate to MOD in her name and hug my son a LOT tighter tonight.

  2. Beautiful post, Cindy.

    This is all so sad and shocking. My heart is definitely breaking for Heather and Mike. It’s unimaginable.

  3. I have been following the story this week as well. I’m so, overwhelmingly sad for this sweet baby I never met but felt like I knew. My baby turned a year old on Wednesday, and I just can’t imagine losing her. I am so sorry for Heather and Mike, and for the rest of us as well. I can’t get over the thought of never seeing any new pictures of that glorious little girl.

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