Capture Your Grief - Day 15: Wave of Light

Day 15: Wave of Light

October 15th is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness/Remembrance Day.  Across the world, we light candles at 7pm in our own time zone so that, lit for one hour, it creates a wave of light worldwide.  I am honored to have had the chance to participate and include the angel babies of my friends who are becoming like family to me.

As I was lighting the candles, Keith (my 6 year old) asked me what I was doing.  "I'm lighting candles," I replied, trying to keep it brief and only answer what he wanted to know.  But he continued.  "What are these for?"  Sigh.  "Each of these candles is for a baby that died, like Taylor & Seth."  ...  "Mommy, I love all of these babies."  He said it after the most solemn momentary silence.  I knew he meant it.  Then, he sat and watched as I continued to light candles.  When I was done, I asked him if he wanted to say anything to the babies, or to Taylor and Seth.  He told all the babies that he was sorry they died, and he told Seth and Taylor that he loved them and wanted to play with them.

So, as I post these pictures, know that it's not just me remembering your babies, but my tender-hearted Keith, as well.  I know sometimes it seems as though you are the only one who thinks of your babies, but I assure you that I think of them often, too.  I lit 23 candles last night.  That's 23 babies together.  Maybe I'm sentimental.  Maybe I make things up.  Maybe my imagination is wild.  Maybe this is complete blasphemy, but I just don't know.  I like to think that, as we on earth get to know each other and share our angel children with each other, they are brought together in heaven, too.  Some of these children are those of friends I've only met online in support groups, but they've touched my heart.  Some I met online and later in person, and it feels like their angels know my angels.  I like the thought that our babies are not alone, but surrounded by the loved ones of those we connect with.  That's why I chose to light candles for each of you.  Because your babies are keeping my babies company, they are their friends.  Thank you for sharing them with me.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

I want to mention that I didn't get everyone included that I wanted to.  I somehow missed a print up for Baby Carter - April 2009 - child of Tonya Carter.  And I really wanted to include Autumn Anne Phillips - daughter of April Philips, but I don't know her birth date, only that it's sometime in March 2009.  I have a neighbor that is one of the most amazing women I've ever met who has lost three.  I don't think she named them, nor do I know their dates, but I'd like to include them.  There are a few others, too.  And if you'd like to be included in this candle lighting for next year, let me know.  I'd love to keep our angels close together.  And remember that they will be thought of in my home every time I light candles for my own children and every time I pass my dresser full of candles each day.  They are remembered.  They are loved.  They are missed.

 

 

Capture Your Grief - Day 14: Community

Day 14: Community

This was my first "event" honoring my angel babies.  It was the Utah Share Walk to Remember.  I met up with my friend, Kris, there.  I met her in a Facebook loss group, realized she lived in Utah, and so when I went near her town one day, she and I met up!  I was glad to be there with her.  She had her whole family there to support her and remember her baby boy, Luke.  I went alone.  My photo collage of this day will likely be repeated soon, but I'll change up the pictures to capture the day to coincide with the topic when it comes up again.

It was a really sweet event.  They talked about the organization's upcoming activities, then a beautiful poem was read, a song called "Beautiful" was sung, we walked around the park (walking the steps our babies will never take), then there was another song followed by each child's name being read and balloons being released as the name was read.  There was one family who had 9, yes NINE, losses.  I was surprised that, as Taylor & Seth's names were read, I didn't want to let go of my balloons for them.  It made me so sad to let them go, as if I were letting go of my babies again.  I forced myself to do it anyway and held back the tears that were so very near the surface.  Heck, even the piano music playing before the event started made me fight back tears!  They had several different items for sale, such as the two Christmas ornaments I bought.  I'm shocked I didn't take a picture of the adorable front - a foot print with 2012 below it.  Then they personalized them as desired, so of course I added their names and dates.  I'm hoping to make a "baby's first missed Christmas" ornament for each of them this year, too.  I'm glad I went and I hope to be able to make it next year.

I'm also hoping to take part in the "Running With Angels" event next year.  My dear friend, Ashley, ran remembering Taylor earlier this year, as I was pregnant with Seth. 

I know some people think it's weird that I don't just "get over it" but keep doing things to remember and honor my babies.  But, I'm their mommy and I don't want them to ever be forgotten.  They're my babies and I won't ever stop loving them.

Capture Your Grief - Day 12: Scent

Day 12: Scent

It took me a long time to think of a scent.  Even now, this is more on Ben's behalf.  My friend and doula, Denise, used a lot of the oils that are part of this blend on me while I was in the hospital.  I used it again in the car after I was finally released from the hospital and Ben said that the smell reminded him of the hospital.  He's not too thrilled with the scent anymore.  I don't relate it, which is odd but I don't.  I don't think I have any scents that bring up memories of either of my angel babies.

Capture Your Grief - Day 11: Supportive Friends/Family

Day 11: Supportive Friends/Family

My friend.  My doula.  She was there when Kiersten was born.  She was there again when Seth was born.  She came to his graveside service.  She's the one who came and took care of me and my house the day after I got home from the hospital after Seth was born followed by the unexpected D&C.  Denise - you are such a fantastic friend.  You're always there when I need you.  You teach me.  You respect me.  You are kind to me.  You love me.  And I appreciate you and all you do for me.  Thank you for all you do for me.  Thank you for never denigrating my grief or my pain.  Thank you for remembering my angel babies.  Thank you, Denise.

Capture Your Grief - Day 9: Special Place

Day 9: Special Place

After finding out Taylor had died, I went to the Mount Timpanogos Temple the next day.  As I continued to endure the emotions of losing my baby girl, I continued to go there to find peace.  It is pictured on the top left.

After finding out Seth had died, I went to the Jordan River Temple the next day.  I've been there a few times since then, too.  It is pictured on the bottom left.

As I miscarried Taylor, I spent a lot of the night in Kiersten's room.  It's so beautiful in there!  The walls are a gorgeous turquoise with glitter in the paint, and it is adorned with a crystal chandelier.  When I'm in there, I feel like I'm in a blue Celestial Room.  It makes me feel close to Taylor.  I don't yet have a place that makes me feel close to Seth, but being in this room even 8 1/2 months later, I feel like Taylor is there surrounding herself in the beauty of the room and the emotional imprints in that room.

Capture Your Grief - Day 8: Jewelry

Day 8: Jewelry

At a boutique that's held with dozens of venders each season, I recently bought the necklace in the top right.  It has my living children's names on the big circle, the angel children's names on the smaller circle, a butterfly charm, pearl birthstones for each living child, and crystal birthstones for each angel child.  I LOVE IT.

The other, in the bottom right, is the bracelet and bow with matching heart charms that my NILMDTS photographer had made and photographed us with.  These pieces mean the world to me.

Capture Your Grief - Day 6 & 7: What (not) to say

Day 6: What NOT To Say
Day 7:  What TO say

I'm going to combine these because... well, because I can.

It must be so hard for others to address their thoughts, emotions, concerns, and love to a woman who has just buried her baby.  Even from one loss-mama to another, it can be hard.  So many of you have reached out and expressed yourselves to me, and I have appreciated all your kindness.  -  I thought I'd take a few minutes to help guide anyone who is trying to express themselves to someone, anyone who has lost their child and you're just not sure how to do it and convey what you intend - kindness and love and sympathy.

#1 and #2 have been addressed in the past, but let me just quickly revisit them:

1.  Never start a phrase with "well, at least..."
This was part of my post FAQ's back in February, but I still see this as so important that it's worth mentioning again.  DO NOT EVER start a sentence with "well, at least..." because it will never work out the way you hope it will.  Re-read that section of the post and learn it well.

2.  Bring dinner.  Do the dishes.  Provide childcare.
This was mentioned as I wrote up about Seth's birth and funeral.  But it was so amazingly helpful immediately that it's worth mentioning again.

I can't tell you how amazing these things were to my family.  After Taylor, I ate.  A lot.  Of Chocolate.  After Seth, I didn't want to eat anything.  The thought of food made me feel guilty and selfish.  I definitely didn't want to stand in the kitchen cooking for my family, a "normal" activity while my life was feeling NOTHING like normal.  I felt like I needed to take a few bites out of each dish because someone went to the trouble of serving my family, so it encouraged me to get a little nutrition.  One amazing woman came over the day after I got home and cleaned my kitchen and dining room for me.  She sat down talking to me, then just kind of disappeared as though she was going to the restroom only for me to realize she was doing my dishes!  I was so unconcerned with "normal" as I said, so this mundane task being done for me was just incredible!  She brought one of her kids with her, which was perfectly fine as it was entertainment for my kids.  She even made lunch for each person - sandwiches, a bowl of fruit, whatever was desired.  Absolutely incredible!  And then all the people who took our kids as we made arrangements the day before induction, then took them when we went to the hospital and stayed unexpectedly over-night and then most of the next day... sometimes taking them at a moments notice (one person got sick and couldn't take on extra kids any longer) - just heart warming!

Doing any of these things - providing food, house care, or child care - are the best things to do when you want to do something but have no clue what to do.


Now onto the things that are new but still helpful to people trying to convey their thoughts to grieving mothers...

3.  "That's just a gross picture of a dead baby."  If you are considering expressing this sentiment, STOP NOW.  It's been expressed to me, as well as to a sweet friend of mine.  Just stop.  We wish we had pictures of our babies ALIVE, but since we were never blessed to see our children take a breath of life, these "gruesome" images of "corpses" are all we have.  To someone who has held her own dead baby, these images are of the most beautiful, perfect angels anyone could ever hope to see.  When we share these images, we are sharing the largest part of our heart, our love for our children that aren't in our homes or in our arms.  Everyone else gets to post pictures of happy little perfectly chubby babies that coo and cry.  They are excited to share their newest joy.  Despite the grief and sadness around our dead babies, we want to safely share the pictures of the most perfect joy of our hearts as well, even if the picture is of our baby already still and silent.  Don't ever judge these pictures harshly.  They mean more to us than any other THING, helping us to remember our gone-too-soon babies.  Be kind.  Be loving.

4.  Time Limits
There are no time limits on grief.  And grieving does not mean anyone is angry with God or any such thing.  I want you to take a few moments to consider losing YOUR child.....
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How's it going?
Does it make it better if....

He's a 30 year old man, leaving behind 4 children - 3 girls and a boy.  He's one of those guys that can make anyone smile.  He's always got a friendly disposition.  He's lived through a lot of things, but now his children won't know him and the amazing man he was.  He won't grow old with anyone.  He won't see his children graduate high school.  He won't know his grandchildren.  His life is cut short, but hey, "at least" he lived a good 30 years, right?

Maybe it's better if he's younger, no kids yet.  Maybe 18, just graduated from high school looking forward to college.  The kid has such a bright future ahead, and you can tell because his personality shines so brightly and friendly that no one who meets him can help but be friends with him.  He unites people of all cliques, ages, backgrounds, social classes, etc.  He's still experienced a lot, but at least he's not leaving behind family.  Except, you know he has such an amazing future ahead of him, no matter what he would have chosen, because he was warm, caring, compassionate, smart, and determined.

Maybe it's better if he's even younger - before he has big ambitions.  Before his personality is truly known.  Maybe it's better if he dies when he's 8.  No family.  No plans for the future.  Just a rambunctious boy who climbs on things, captures frogs, gets into mischief but still gives great hugs, has smiles that brighten a room, and likes to help in the kitchen.  Then again, maybe it's easier if it's an 8 year old who was sick a lot, never really well enough to go play, definitely wouldn't have had much of a future ahead of him anyway.  "At least" he got to live for a while, but died before experiencing his first broken heart at the hands of a girl.  "At least" you got to spend time with him, years with him, before he died.

Maybe it is easier when the child dies full term - right before birth, during birth, or within a few hours or days after birth.  Maybe he liked spicy foods and it felt like he did Tai Chi in your belly rather than kicking up a storm.  Maybe you planned on him being your last baby, joining two older brothers and assumed he'd play soccer like his big brothers did.  Maybe this is the best time for your baby to die because you were able to enjoy the whole pregnancy but now "at least" you won't be awakened several times a night for feedings, have to change diapers, or deal with those ornery toddler years.  Except, how cruel to go through an entire pregnancy just to leave the hospital empty handed.  Maybe he had Downs Syndrome.  Maybe you didn't care and just wanted to love him anyway.

 

Maybe it's easier if he dies in the middle of pregnancy.  Then you've experienced a little pregnancy, but don't have to worry about getting swollen, going through labor and delivery, or those sleepless nights for months on end once he's born.  Granted, you may have made plans already.  Maybe having another boy would mean you'd need to finish the basement of your house, and move your other boys into the basement slowly over the next year or two.  Maybe a Christmas time due date meant plans of staying home for Christmas instead of spending it with the in-laws.  Maybe adding another baby to the family meant another two years of being a stay-at-home mom.  Maybe you spent your sleepless nights dreaming of if he would be more like your first son or second son, or if his personality would be more like your daughter's.  Maybe you prayed they'd just all get along well and would learn to love and protect each other as best friends.  Maybe that family of 4 children just made your heart sing with delight!  Maybe he was the rainbow after the storm of having lost a baby in a previous pregnancy.  Maybe he was your light at the end of the tunnel of grief.  Maybe being pregnant with him gave you hope for the future.  Maybe loosing him took that hope away.

Maybe it's better to lose your baby early in the first trimester before you have time to bond with him much, although you may have been trying for years.  Perhaps it's better to never have been pregnant in the first place, after all, who wants morning sickness and sleepless nights?  Perhaps you'd take puking every day for 9 months and 2 years of sleepless nights joyfully if it meant you got to be a mommy.

How much time is appropriate to grieve?  Well, if any of these were YOUR son, how long would it take YOU to get over it?  As soon as you decide you WANT children, or see that positive pregnancy test, your whole outlook for the future changes, and there is no going back.  There is NEVER a good time to lose a child.  Losing your baby during pregnancy leaves your heart and your arms and your belly aching for your baby to come back.  After birth leaves you yearning for more time, for him to be able to fulfill a bright future.  So, before expecting someone to "move on" or "get over it," think about holding your dead baby/child in your arms, having to bury him, and never seeing him again in this life.  Be kind.  Be loving.  Be gentle.

So, to sum it all up: