Christmas with out our angel

It is starting to get hard again, not that it was every easy. This was supposed to be her first christmas, this was supposed to be a time we spent seeing Christmas through her eyes, all of the wonder, the excitement, the joy.

She should have been about 6 months old now, I see other babies around that age and I can't help but think what should have been. I think back on last Christmas, if only I had known that I would be saying good bye to her a few weeks after we celebrated the holidays- maybe in some way I would have been able to deal with it better, but then I think- No, knowing that we would lose her would only have made it worse. It is best we found out as we did. We still enjoyed celebrating with the boys, not knowing the hell that was to come.

I am trying to "make a plan" for Christmas to deal with my grief- my therapist says this will help me anticipate grief bursts a little better. Throwing pregnancy hormones on of it is not helpful. I had to excuse myself from church on sunday and go in the bathroom and cry- it was baptism sunday, and 3 little girls were being baptized- it was just too much. So far I am struggling on what to "do" for my plan. I have 2 beautiful ornaments on our tree for Cam, one DH and I bought, another from a friend.

Every where I go I see something about the Christ child or Baby Jesus, I think to myself "Did Mary know that one day she would weep at the foot of the cross for the child she gave birth to in the stable? Did she know the pain and heartache that was all too soon to come her way?"

On Jan 15, the mother's group at our church is going to be holing a prayer service for families that have lost a child. I brought the idea to the group, and I have taken the wheel for planning. I feel that this is my "plan" for Cam's 1 yr angelversary- but I am sooooo at a loss as to what to do for christmas, I am sure it will come to me. Babylost mamas- what are you doing in memory of your little one this holiday season?

More found poems

Found this over at Triplet Butterfly Wings

My Mommy is a Survivor
My Mommy is a survivor or so I've heard it said.
But I can hear her crying at night when all others are in bed.
I watch her lay awake at night and go to hold her hand.
She doesn't know I'm with her to help her understand.
But like the sands on the beach that never wash away...
I watch over my surviving mommy, who thinks of me each day.
She wears a smile for others... a smile of disguise!
But through Heaven's door I see tears flowing from her eyes.
My mommy tries to cope with death to keep my memory alive.
But anyone who knows her knows it is her way to survive.
As I watch over my surviving mom through Heaven's open door...
I try to tell her that angels protect me forevermore.
I know that doesn't help her or ease the burden she bears.
So if you get a chance, go visit her... and show her that you care.
For no matter what she says... no matter what she feels.
My surviving mommy has a broken heart
That time wont ever heal...
-author unknown

My daddy is survivor too...
My daddy is a survivor too
which is no surprise to me.
He's always been like a lighthouse
that helps you cross a stormy sea.
But, I walk with my daddy each day to lift him when he's down.
I wipe the tears he hides from others;
He cries when no one's around.
I watch him sit up late at night with my picture in his hand.
He cries as he tries to grieve alone, and wishes he could understand.
My daddy is like a tower of strength.
He's the greatest of them all!
But, there are times when he needs to cry...
Please be there when he falls.
Hold his hand or pat his shoulder...
And tell him it's okay.
Be his strength when he's sad,
Help him mourn in his own way.
Now, as I watch over my precious dad from the Heavens up above...
I'm so proud that he's a survivor... And, I can still feel his love.
-author unknown

Snow

It is the first big snow of the season. The kids are so excited- they were up at the crack of dawn, well before dawn 5:45am to be exact. We have around 4". I am excited too, but my patience is running thin "mommy can we go outside now?" (at 6:30) "how about NOW?" (at 6:45) agrrrrh!!! I just really wanted to sleep- I feel like a bad mom!

Just minutes ago, I looked outside. there were HUGE flakes falling, the large angel feather like flakes- and it make me think of Cameron and those same flakes that fell on the day she was stillborn. It takes me back to lying there in that hospital bed, so completely drained of tears- yet they still kept coming. Today, these feathery flakes bring tears to my eyes, yet unlike the ones in january, they bring a little peace to my soul.

I am one to believe in signs, weather sent by God, or Cameron herself, I believe in them. I can not tell you how many butterflies we saw this summer. I feel that was her summer sign. We even saw them while sitting in traffic in downtown Chicago this summer. I tell everyone the story of how I got 2 burgundy Zinnias, and one yellow- the 2 for Z and M and the yellow for C. With in weeks, the yellow one turned pale pink! I kid you not!

I was saddened by the cold weather, knowing we would not see those precious signs again until spring- but a gentle reminder was sent in these large flakes today. While my eyes are wet from tears, I feel like she is near, saying "it is ok mommy"

It has been a while, I know

I haven't been blogging a whole lot here. I am sorry. Life has been keeping me busy with other things. We learned this week that we are expecting our 3rd son, due April 14th! We are very excited, blessed,and hopeful- and also worried, anxious and scared. We heard that things can go wrong, but now we KNOW they can, and there is NOTHING like THAT kind of FEAR. It takes away the innocence of pregnancy. For some they say "once you get past 12 weeks, you are good to go", but from our journey, we know all to well it can go wrong at any point, for us it was 20wks, for other women I have met along the way it has been 24, 27, 32, 35, 40 and all the weeks in between. I cherish these women, we are all babylost mamas- but knowing now, what I didn't know then, makes this 4th pregnancy a whole other ball of wax.

The boys were for sure that they were going to have a baby sister- they even named the baby "sunshine" from the time we told them that we were pregnant again. They have been keeping the baby in their prayers every night, and once in a while they will say "Mommy, I hope this baby doesn't go to heaven like Cameron did" I say "Me too sweetie, me too". They are excited about having a baby brother...Zach even says "Mommy there are going to be 4 boys in our family !!!!(including daddy) I can't wait to teach baby brother to ride a bike!!!"

It does make me a little sad- thinking that our only daughter may be our angel daughter, and I feel like I am grieving her death all over again.

I am not ready to handle the "don't you wish you had a girl" comments from strangers when we go out, it is not any of their business- why do they think they have a right to make a comment? I nearly decked a lady today at a craft store for saying that we should try for a girl next time- told her we love our sons very much and we had a daughter, and that she died. that seemed to shut her up! No one asked you for your opinion lady! Think I will just stay in my bubble of peace for now!

Aha Moment

A couple of months ago I was able to be part of Mutual of Omaha's Aha Moment Campaign. They had a trailer that drove all over the country capturing "Aha" moments from people from all walks of life.

2 weeks ago, I got an e-mail telling me that my spot was in the running for national tv ad campaign!! It is based on voting, and well, you all know me- I ain't to proud to BEG!!! It is not about me getting to be on tv- it is about getting the word out about postpartum depression, and that there are people that can help!

so please spread the word and vote for my spot!
Helping Moms

Friendship Award

Lea at Nicholas' Touch passed on a very special friendship award to me. Thank you Lea, you are such a blessing to me. You have helped me thru some of my darkest days.


This award is bestowed on to blogs that are exceedingly charming. These kind bloggers aim to find and be friends. They are not interested in self-aggrandizement. Our hope is that when the ribbons of these prizes are cut, even more friendships are propagated. Please give more attention to these writers. Deliver this award to six bloggers who must choose six more and include this cleverly-written text into the body of their award.

It is sooooo difficult to only choose 6 bloggers who have touched my heart in such a profound way. There are so many of you who have enriched my life and made this life-long journey just a little bit more bearable (sorry I stole that from Lea, but she said exactly what I was thinking!!)

Overeducated Mommy

Little Tiny footprints

The Peeks

He will carry me

Sugar in my bowl

Chocolate on a Rainy day

PPD after loss

A great article on postpartum depression after a loss
Postpartum Progress

There are so many women who suffer depression after a loss, but not many will speak of postpartum depression after a loss.

People look at me funny when I tell them I am a 3 time survivor of postpartum depression...they only see our 2 boys, and not the daughter who passed too soon. It is hard to deal with PPD on its own, with taking care of a baby, but when you have PPD and no baby, it gets compounded with so much more.

Pile your PPD up with,
-debilitating grief,
-constantly reliving the delivery of your stillborn child (I like to think of it as PTSD sometimes for what I had to go through- all of the contractions, labor, delivery- and no live baby to hold in my arms),
-constant reminders of your grief (go to any supermarket on any given day and count how many pregnant ladies or babies you see and you will get my drift!)
-guilt beyond measure (thinking there must have been some thing you could have done differently to have saved your baby)
-sorrow beyond the depths of the ocean
-Anger at the world for taking what should have been yours to love and nurture.

It is a hell of a ride!

I have to say I am happy that I had PPD before our loss. If I had not learned how to ask for help, learned who to turn to, learned to trust myself and my instincts- I don't know where I would be today.

Angel Mommies

My friend, Courtney wrote this on her blog:

To my angel mommies
We have shared our tears and our sorrow,
We have given encouragement to each other,
Given hope for a brighter tomorrow,
We share the title of grieving mother.

Some of us lost older daughters or sons,
Who we watched grow over the years,
Some have lost their babies before their lives begun,
But no matter the age, we cry the same tears.

We understand each others pain,
The bond we share is very strong,
With each other there is no need to explain,
The path we walk is hard and long.

Our children brought us together,
They didn't want us on this journey alone,
They knew we needed each other,
To survive the pain of them being gone.

So take my hand my friend,
We may stumble and fall along the way,
But we'll get up and try again,
Because together we can make it day by day.

We can give each other hope,
We'll create a place where we belong,
Together we will find ways to cope,
Because we are Angel Moms and together we are strong

Thank you so much for sharing that with all of us Courtney!! Such beautiful words!!

GRRRRRR

aparently there is some bug on our computer that will not allow me to access any - and I mean ANY other blogger blog. so I am only able to read a tiny bit of everyone's posts, and can't reply!!!

going to have my husband look at things when he gets home from golf. I am thinking of all of you- I just can't write you!!!

friends in unexpected places

I went seeking a resource, only to be more frustrated and infuriated. About a month ago I had to face the doc that delivered Cameron. I had been having some abdominal pain and knew I needed to be seen. I figured, that we will need a doc, so I needed to start forming a trusting relationship with someone now so they can be supportive when we do decide to venture down THAT road again.

I felt lost and alone, getting a computer answering system (press 1 if...press 2 if..) I was constantly playing phone tag with the office. I been asking questions, I like to be an educated patient. I felt the answers I was given were just given to pacify me and were not really an answer. I hate having to call back, and wait to get a call back wondering what the heck might be going on with me (and if you know me, you know I have a wild "what if" side to me!)

In the end, I have a cyst, very common, nothing to worry about, nothing to panic about, it is small, and will most likely resolve on its own. But I still do not like the level of anxiety in dealing with the staff. I also find it funny that when I asked about having my records sent over they said that it was not necessary. WHY????

After talking with my therapist, and getting some reassurance from her, she told me "you need to hold the dr accountable for the information her staff is giving"

This made me think, if I have having this much issue with a cyst, what will happen with other things. It doesn't help that every time I see her, her name or her office's phone number I feel anxiety in the pit of my stomach, I feel the same feelings I felt back in January after Cameron was stillborn. That is not something I need to be drudged up again and again on top of fighting for every question to be answered. I did get a chance to talk directly to the dr, which was very nice and I told her I appreciated it. But I think I need to let that part of things go.

I need to not have to face her and have her be a constant reminder of how our relationship started- with my daughter's death.

A very good friend of mine is a postpartum nurse and gave me a great recommendation for a new doc. She gave me the nurse's direct line and let her know that I would be calling. I called, got the nurse's voice mail, and was called back very promptly. She talked with her for a bit, she answered all of my questions and was very informative and professional about things. I told her that I would like to sit down and talk with the doc, she handed the call over to one of their other staff members who is responsible for scheduling. To my delight it was a wonderful woman I met 7months ago ( I knew she worked at this office, I just wasn't expecting to get her). We met at a support group for parents who have lost a baby. I remember seeing her that night and being able to completely identify with her. I only attended the one meeting (and come to find out, so did she- it was too much for both of us!)

Hearing her voice on the other end of the line was so incredibly comforting. To know that I will see her smiling face every time I walk into that office, I will hear her voice when I call, knowing that we have the bond of loving and losing our babies. Some one in my real life who understands the hell I have been through.

I don't know where my journey is headed, if God will grant us another child in our life, if He will bless us with another pregnancy, if He chooses to make me a mother again- but I do know that there are friends in unexpected places, and I feel that is His way of being there for us.

So this post is to my friend in the unexpected place, thank you for your warm voice and your knowing glance.

I haven't written in a few weeks, we have had some really nice weather and we took a family trip to Chicago!! We had a wonderful time. We got to meet my brother-in-law's girlfriend (the boys instantly fell in love with her!). We visited the aquarium, Navy Pier, and Brookfield Zoo.

One thing I noticed from the moment we arrived and were walking to the aquarium- until we were walking back to the van after our long day at the zoo....was the butterflies! EVERY where we went there was at least one butterfly. While waiting in line to get into the aquarium, as we pulled around the front of Navy Pier, as we sat in traffic down town (yes, downtown Chicago sitting in traffic there was a monarch butterfly that flew right infront of our van!). We saw tons of them at the zoo, a huge one near our table at the Rainforest Cafe (fake one, but still).

Butterflies were making themselves known- it just affirms to me that it was a true family vacation- and Cameron made sure we knew that she was there too!

Wings

I got a package in the mail from Canada yesterday!!

I knew who it was from before I even saw the return addy. It was from my friend Lea, and inside I knew I would find a pair of angel wings!!

They are perfect and beautiful in every way!

Thank you so much Lea, you really know how to touch a babylost mama's heart!

I will try to post a pic when I can! It may be a while, we are headed out of town for a family vacation!

6 months

This friday, July 17th will mark 6 months since Cameron's death. I can hardly believe she has been gone from this world for 6 months, she has been gone longer than she was with us. It tears my heart apart to think that we should have had a 4-6 week old baby in our arms right now, instead- they are empty.

the emptiness fills my heart- sometimes so void of everything. I am trying to keep my life afloat. I have gone back to doing the job I love, but it is difficult. Helping families with new babies is my passion, but my heart aches when I get home to an extra empty room in our house.

How do you celebrate, memorialize a child you never got to know? It was so all unfairly taken from us. We never got to look into her eyes, or hear her cry or even feel her warm body against mine.

It has been 6 months and there are days it hurts just as much as it did on the day she died.

I found this poem

another found poem

Please Be Gentle
By Jill B. Englar

Please be gentle with me for I am grieving.
The sea I swim in is a lonely one
and the shore seems miles away.
Waves of despair numb my soul
as I struggle through each day.
My heart is heavy with sorrow.
I want to shout and screamand repeatedly ask 'why?'
At times, my grief overwhelms me
and I weep bitterly,so great is my loss.
Please don’t turn away
or tell me to move on with my life.
I must embrace my pain
before I can begin to heal.
Companion me through tears
and sit with me in loving silence.
Honor where I am in my journey,
not where you think I should be.
Listen patiently to my story,
I may need to tell it over and over again.
It’s how I begin to grasp the enormity of my loss.
Nurture me through the weeks and months ahead.
Forgive me when I seem distant and inconsolable.
A small flame still burns within my heart,
and shared memories may trigger
both laughter and tears.
I need your support and understanding.
There is no right or wrong way to grieve.
I must find my own path.
Please, will you walk beside me?

Nothing more

By Lesley Jeruzal
Nothing more than a cloud;
droplets of moisture, clinging together
until I am too saturated
to hold any more.

Tears rain down
the light becomes dark.
The shadows from the night
swallow me whole.

Lightened by the storm,
the wind blows me on.
Ever changing, ever being
never one in the same

Changing at a moment's notice,
never sure of where I will be.
Light and peaceful in the summer sky?
or ominious as a death filled storm?

Blow me wind,
to where I am
meant to be.

Garden Dance

by Lesley Jeruzal
Heartfelt joy,
dream come true;
exploring, finding
something new.

Garden speak,
play hide and seek.
Floral in abundance
they dance upon the breeze.

light as air,
blows my children's hair
glowing warm of summer love
in the evening setting sun.


She flutters by,
he says hello.
The other son,
points her out from below.

Her wings,
out stretched
Their feet lept
chasing her soul in flight.

The night draws near
I hold them dear
for they are here,
the ones in my arms

As for her,
I watch the setting sun burn
painted with her colors of flight.
Remembering this special night

Playing in the gardens,
my children, all three.
A special memory
I never thought I would see.

Heartfelt joy
a dream come true
always feeling,
seeing you.

Reinvesting in my life

as a part of my therapy, I am supposed to reinvest in my life.

I feel like I am turning a corner, and I need to refocus on my life at hand. I will still use this place to talk about and grieve my daughter, and also to celebrate what her life has brought to mine, but I also want to celebrate the many, many other aspects that make me who I am.

I feel like I am embarking on another part of my journey, yet I have no idea where it will lead. I am going to start working my doula business again (and hopefully complete my certification by February 2010!)

I have had other opportunities arise in the past few months. Starting in Aug, I will be a peer facilitator for a local moms support group. This is very exciting to me! I hope to be able to help moms (and dads) journey through the sometimes difficult waters of early parenthood.

Later this month will be the 6th month anniversary of Cameron's birth/death- or as I like to call it her "angelversary". I can not believe it has been 6 months since I said hello and good bye to my baby girl. There are days I feel so far from it, and then others I am zapped right back to that very day like it was only yesterday.

I feel like I am healing, I am more interested in my hobbies again (sewing, crafting, cooking, scrapbooking) and I hope to share some of my healing art here too!

forever changed

by Lesley Jeruzal
My Daughter,
You changed me.
You changed who I am,
You changed who I will be
I am foreverchanged because of you.

You’ve taught me that love has no boundries
You;ve taught me that there is more to life than what I know
You’ve taught me to really truly count my blessings.
You’ve taught me the strength of a bond between a mother and a child.

Life is unpredictable
Life is about the love you share, and the people you share it with
Life isn’t easy and there is pain beyond measure
But my life must continue, even though your life is gone.

I must continue, so that I can change the lives of others
the way you have forever changed me.

On June 5th we wrote Cameron's name in the sand- a tribute to our little girl in heaven


a beautiful butterfly we found in our yard on sunday, a little gift from above to let us know that everything is ok with our baby girl

Delivery of an Angel- our story

Some of you have been reading for a while. Many of you know that my daughter was still born, but have not heard her story. this is a hugely emotional thing to share, and it has taken me this long to get to a point where I feel I can share. It is a very long story, and yes, it will probably make you cry- so don't read it at work! If you have had a recent loss, you may not want to read this at all. It is the raw story, as I wrote it a little over a month after our stillbirth.

Our lives were changed in a heartbeat

Each time I tell our story, it comes back to me as fresh as the day it all happened. I can replay the day like a movie in my head.

It all started out like any other Friday. That morning I remember my husband and I standing in the kitchen and he casually asked “anything you wanted to get done today? any plans?” not an unusual question by any means.

I replied “nah, I might take a nap after our appt. with the doctor, but other than that, nothing”.

We got to our appointment, the nurse checked all of the usual stuff. I finally had gained some weight- I had been SOOOO sick this pregnancy! I had even gotten sick just before our appointment. The doctor asked if we had any question, we didn’t but I mentioned to her that I felt very dizzy that morning.

I laid back on the table- I’ve done this dozens of times, this was my third pregnancy. Our doc got out the monitor they roll over your belly with, and the cold gel. She searched for the heart beat as usual, and searched some more. I was starting to get a little worried, but I just thought the baby was hiding, or in a funny position. I remember our doc saying something like “hey kiddo, come on you’re freaking you mom out!” she tried for a little while longer. Still nothing. She said “it may just be the position and our doplers aren’t as strong as the ones at the hospital. But the good news is you get to go for your ultra sound today, you will not leave my office with out an appointment for the ultra sound.” then she went on to say something about “you won’t leave the u/s without talking to me.” I should have known something was up. She had never said anything like that in my previous pregnancies.

I went to check out and made my next prenatal appointment, the receptionist looked at the orders for the u/s and said “Oh! she wants this TODAY”. Again I didn’t really think anything of it.

My husband had taken the boys out to the van while I was checking out, because they were getting restless. We had promised them lunch at their favorite place if they were good during the appointment (they usually are, but they needed a little extra encouragement that day!) But now with the u/s we were going to have to postpone lunch. I still didn’t think anything of it

We were trying to decide what to do with the boys, it was lunch time and there was NO way we were going to take them with us for the u/s. We found a neighbor that could take them, and while I was talking to her, I looked at the orders for the u/s it said “viability”. It hit me, VIABILITY- OH MY GOD! VIABILITY?!? I broke down and my husband knew at that same moment some thing was wrong. Very, VERY wrong.

I was trying not to freak out. I was trying to think anything but questioning the viability of my baby’s life.

We got in for our u/s. There was our perfect baby on the screen. The tech took some initial measurements and then moved on. “And this is where we look for the heartbeat” she quickly moved on to another part of the body. For a quick second, I thought, well that was strange. But didn’t think much else of it. The baby was in a funny position and my placenta was anterior “ah see that’s why she couldn’t find it in the office” I said to my husband. Then the tech turned on the blood flow function where the screen shows the blood flowing in and out in bright red and blue colors- but our baby remained in black and white. It was starting to become real, this was really happening.

It was the shortest u/s I had ever had, and I knew it couldn’t be good. My husband flat out asked her “Did you see a heartbeat?” the tech replied “Technically I am not qualified to diagnose anything on the u/s, but since you did ask me a direct question I will answer it…no, I did not see a heartbeat, I am so sorry!”

And from that moment on, I felt like someone had pulled the rug out from under me and ripped our world apart. I couldn’t believe this was happening to me, to us, to our baby. This was supposed to be our big 20wk u/s where we really get to see our baby, count fingers and toes, find out the gender, go home with all sorts of pictures and share with our family and friends. NO! This is NOT happening! This can NOT be happening! I told myself.

Delivery of an Angel

After the u/s,the OB’s office called and said we would be admitted to OB special care THAT NIGHT for labor and delivery. I was speachless- my thoughts were “you mean they are going to make me DELIVER this baby? I have to go thru the hell of labor and delivery and have no baby to take home?” I could NOT believe it, to me there was no worse thing on earth.

I was induced friday (jan 16th) night. I delivered our angel at 8:07 on Saturday (Jan 17th) morning, We did not know that we had a girl until they placed her in my arms. Nothing like hearing “its a girl!" as they place your stillborn child in your arms. torture pure torture.

It is still hard for me to say “born” or “birth” when talking about this whole thing- I relate both of those words to life- some thing she did not have outside of me. The reason for her death was that the cord was tightly wrapped around her neck cutting of circulation. Her eyes and ears were still fused shut. “she’ll never see the light of day, or hear a lullabye” I thought.

Early in the pregnancy (before we even told our boys about the baby) our oldest said “Mommy, we should have another baby!” “oh really?” I giggled. “and what should we name this baby?” I asked. He said “Cameron…Cameron and Drew, 2 babies mommy!!” I replied “No, how about just one?” “Ok Mommy.” We told them a few weeks later that there was a baby in mommy’s tummy, and from that point on the boys INSISTED that the baby’s name was Cameron. We kept telling them that we would see, we’d consider it, but we didn’t know quite yet.

My husband sat on the couch, in our hospital room, I don’t remember who was holding her at the time (I think he was). I looked at him and I said “I think we know what her name is…” and at the same time we said “Cameron”. We searched for a middle name briefly…Elise? Lynn? Then it came to me, Diane. Diane is my middle name, and it seemed very fitting.

The rest of the day was a blur of visits from friends and family. The hospital staff was great- we have her foot prints in plaster, NILMDTS photos, blankets and things she wore for pics, and a beautiful memory box provided by the hospital.

I went home that same night less than 12 hours after delivery.

My husband has been and continues to be so supportive- I can;t even begin to say how thankful I am for him!!

I am trying to have faith in the things that I know are real and tangible, like my love for our boys- that is the string I am holding on to right now. With out them- this would be MUCH harder.

An angel never dies

I read this on a friend's blog, and it really hit home. I am drawing near what would have been Cameron's due date, and now am grieving yet another loss, my grandfather (Cameron was still born on his birthday) passed away last week, and his funeral was on the same day that I would have been 38wks pregnant with Cameron. My other 2 children were born at 38wks.

2 lives lost
2 loved ones no longer here
Both are angels in my eyes
An Angel never dies

An Angel Never Dies - author unknown

Don’t let them say I wasn’t born,
That something stopped my heart,

I felt each tender squeeze you gave,
I loved you from the start.

Although my body you can’t hold,
It doesn’t mean I’m gone,

This world was worthy not of me,
God chose that I move on,

I know the pain that drowns your soul,
What you are forced to face,

You have my word, I’ll fill your arms, Someday we will embrace.

You’ll hear that it was “meant to be,
God doesn’t make mistakes”

But that won’t soften your worst blow
Or make your heart not ache.

I’m watching over all you do,
Another child you’ll bear,

Believe me when I say to you,
That I am always there.

There will come a time, I promise you,
When you will hold my hand,

Stroke my face and kiss my lips and
Then you’ll understand.

Although I never breathed your air,
Or gazed into your eyes,

That doesn’t mean I never “was”…
An Angel Never Dies.

Mother's day- Am I a Mother?

Written by Clara Hinton | Feb 23, 2002

A woman struggles with a very basic question when early loss occurs such as miscarriage, ectopic pregnancy, or stillbirth. Women who have given their child up for adoption struggle with this same question. Am I a mother?

Am I a mother? When there is no child to hold, no child visible to others, this question is one that pains the innermost depths of the heart. Mother’s Day is especially difficult because there are such things as new baby dedications done in churches, mother-daughter banquets planned, and flowers designed just for mothers. A woman who does not have her physical child with her often agonizes over what to do and what to say to others.

Even if your baby lived one day inside of you, you are still a mother! Your body was “with child”; therefore, in a very real sense you are a genuine mother. That is special, and worthy of recognition. It is extremely important to give validity to the fact that you wear the cherished name “mother”. Am I a mother? Yes!

Sadly, many do not recognize mothers of miscarriage and other early child loss. I don’t believe this is an intentional oversight. I believe it stems from a lack of understanding and a general feeling of not knowing what to say or do in an uncomfortable situation.

Card companies also are lacking in the careful wording of cards for mothers who have experienced miscarriage and early child loss. Often, even those closest to you will overlook you in the celebration of Mother’s Day. In fact, there may be some who would think you are not accepting the loss if you want to celebrate Mother’s Day in some way.

What are you to do? Follow your heart. If you feel it is important for you to be recognized as a mother, then let others know of your wishes.

Tell others that you would enjoy flowers, or that you would love a donation made to your favorite charity in honor of your baby for Mother’s Day. Wear a flower on Mother’s Day, or choose something that has special significance to you such as a bracelet to wear in honor of your baby. This will give you a connection to your baby, and allow you to feel like you are a mother.

Yes. You are a mother, and that means that Mother’s Day is for you, too. Hold that day close to your heart by honoring your child’s birth and death. Grieve the loss, but remember your baby. And, by all means, allow yourself the privilege of being called mother.

When you validate the fact that you indeed are a mother, you are moving one more step forward in your journey of grief towards healing.

borrowed angels

These are My Footprints

Author Unknown

These are my footprints, so perfect and so small.
These tiny footprints, never touched the ground at all.

Not one tiny footprint, for now I have my wings.
These tiny footprints were meant for other things.

You will hear my tiny footprints, in the patter of the rain.
Gentle drops like angels’ tears, of joy and not from pain.

You will see my tiny footprints, in each butterflies' lazy dance.
I'll let you know I'm with you, if you give me just a chance.

You will see my tiny footprints, in the rustle of the leaves.
I will whisper names into the wind, and call each one that grieves.

Most of all, these tiny footprints, are found in mummy's heart, cause even though I'm gone now, we'll never truly part

A Grieving Parent is...

Author Unknown

A grieving parent is someone who will never forget their child no matter how painful memories are.

A grieving parent is someone who yearns to be with their dead but cannot conceive leaving their living ones.

A grieving parent is someone who has part of a heart as the rest has gone with their child.

A grieving parent is someone who begs for relief from the memories which plague them and then feel guilty when they get it.

A grieving parent is someone who pretends to be happy and enjoying life when they are really dying inside.

A grieving parent someone who can cry or laugh at the drop of a hat whenever they remember their beloved child.

A grieving parent is someone who feels as if they have just lost their child yesterday no matter how much time has passed.

A grieving parent is someone who fears for their remaining family because they cannot bear to have any more loss.

A grieving parent is someone who sits by their child's grave and feels a knife stabbing their heart.

A grieving parent is someone who wants to help others who have lost a loved one because somehow others loss is theirs all over again.

I of the storm

Everything here is greening up and growing. All of my tulips are beginning to bloom. Beautiful, it is all very beautiful. But for me this year, it is yet another reminder- there is supposed to be a baby growing, I am supposed to be in full bloom.

We had a huge round of storms last night. THAT was something I could identify with with. The anger of the crashing thunder, the pounding of the sobbing rain, the wailing of the winds. Finally something I can relate to!

Things are quiet this morning, the birds are singing, the plants are drinking up the fallen rain. It gives me hope that maybe my fallen tears will nourish SOMETHING, and that maybe, someway, somehow, something beautiful can come of my sorrow.

Until then, I must weather the storm. There is no running from it, no hiding. The storm will find you. It is lurking behind every turn and pops out when you least expect it. A brand new baby in the store, a newly pregnant mom, a pair of maternity jeans found in the bottom of a closet, formula coupons arriving in the mail, calls from photographers offering a package deal on "First year photos".

No one understands the pain of each lightening strike, some strikes are far and only shake you with a distant rumble, others are so close they strike you to your core. Even being the "I" of the storm, you have no idea when and where the lightening will strike. You can try to anticipate it, but sometimes that only makes it worse. Other times it may turn out to be a refreshing rain of tears, brought on by a kind word.

Some may offer shelter, if only for a little while. But in the end I must face the storm and learn to dance in the rain until the sun can shine again.

Comments

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BEREAVED PARENTS WISH LIST

I found this somewhere along the way and I wanted to share
Written by Sheryl Mc Mahon

I wish my child hadn't died. I wish I had him/her back.

I wish you wouldn't be afraid to speak my child's name. He/she lived and was very important to me. I need to hear that he/she was important to you also.

If I cry and get emotional when you talk about my child, I wish you knew that it isn't because you have hurt me. My child’s death is the cause of my tears. You have talked about my child and you have allowed me to share my grief. I thank you for both.

Being a bereaved parent is not contagious, so I wish you wouldn't shy away from me. I need you now more than ever.

I need diversions, so I do want to hear about you, but I also want you to hear about me. I might be sad and I might cry, but I wish you would let me talk about my child; my favorite topic of the day.

I know that you think of and pray for me often. I also know that my child’s death pains you too. Please let me know these things through a phone call, a card or note, or a real big hug.

I wish you wouldn't expect my grief to be over. These first years are traumatic for me, but I wish you could understand that my grief will never be over. I will suffer the death of my child until the day I die.

I am working hard in my recovery, but I wish you could understand that I will never fully recover. I will always miss my child I will always grieve that he/she is dead.

I wish you wouldn't expect me "not to think about it" or "be happy". Neither will happen for a very long time, so don't frustrate yourself. I don't want to have a "Pity party", but I do wish you would let me grieve. I must hurt before I can heal.

I wish you understood how my life has shattered. I know it is miserable for you to be around me when I'm feeling miserable. Please be as patient with me as I am with you.

When I say, "I'm doing okay", I wish you could understand that I don't "feel" okay and that I struggle daily.

I wish you knew that all of the grief reactions I'm having are very normal. Depression, anger, hopelessness and overwhelming sadness are all to be expected. So please excuse me when I'm quiet and withdrawn or irritable and cranky.

Your advice to "take it one day at a time" is excellent advice. However, a day is too much and too fast for me right now. I wish you could understand that I'm doing good to handle an hour at a time.

Please excuse me if I seem rude, certainly not my intent. Sometimes the world around me goes too fast and I need to get off. When I walk away, I wish you would let me find a quiet place to spend time alone. I wish you understood that grief changes people. When my child died, a big part of me died with him/her. I am not the same person I was before my baby died and I will never be that person again.

I wish very much that you could understand ~ understand my loss and my grief. But, I pray daily that you will never understand.

More than words

Tomorrow it will mark three months since Cameron's death. Some days it feels like it happened a lifetime ago, other days it feels like it was yesterday.

Our daughter is never far from our thoughts, and it is sometimes hard to remember her death did not hit the rest of the world as hard as it has hit us. Cameron changed our family forever. She took a piece of our hearts with her. Some days I can sit back and smile, and say "A piece of my heart is already in heaven." Other days I weep longing to see her and hold her and say "my heart is broken, how can I mend it if a big piece of it is missing?"

Grief is completely unpredictable- things that you would think make you crash don't, things you are sure you will be completely fine with bring you to your knees.

I was sure that seeing my new nephew just weeks after my daughter's death would be a huge crash for me, it wasn't. It was healing. I won't tell you it was easy, it wasn't, but holding him, smelling him, looking into his eyes made me see that yes, even in your most difficult days- life can be beautiful.

Watching our beautiful boys play outside on a beautiful sunny day, giggling, laughing, climbing, swinging on the 2 swings on our new play set, brings me so much joy. Grief snuck up on me, suddenly I was in tears. Not just the trickling down your cheek kind- we are talking the lump in your throat, snotty nose, I just can't stop kind of tears. "There were supposed to be 3 swings this summer....." I sobbed.

But I try to remember that crying is good. It means my soul is being cleansed, and refreshed. It means I am letting my emotions out, instead of letting them eat away at me. If you ask me about my daughter, and I get a tear in my eye, do not feel bad. I cry because I grieve, I grieve because I loved her more than words could ever speak.

Remembering

Go ahead and mention my child,
The one that died, you know.
Don't worry about hurting me further.
The depth of my pain doesn't show.
Don't worry about making me cry.
I'm already crying inside.
Help me to heal by releasing the tears that I try to hide.
I'm hurt when you just keep silent,
Pretending she didn't exist.
I'd rather you mention my child,
Knowing that she has been missed.
You asked me how I was doing.
I say "pretty good" or "fine".
But healing is something ongoing
I feel it will take a lifetime.

~ Elizabeth Dent ~

Do's and Don't's

From BabySteps:
Does this sound familiar? A family member, friend, or acquaintance has lost a child and you don't know what to say or do to help the mourners. It is a hard time for everyone and you find yourself scared of saying or doing the wrong thing. Even sadder is when your fear drives you into silence and you say and do nothing at all.

Please read from our collection of Do's and Don'ts and learn what you can say and can do to support a grieving parent or child. These mourners need all the support they can get so for all their sakes, please read on. Do's and Don'ts

Siblings and Grief

Often times there are older siblings who are also grieving
the following is taken from:
http://www.nationalshareoffice.com/index.html

Children and Grief
How can I support my grieving child(ren)?

Children want to share their experience of grief with adults. Your child’s love for the baby may be very special, and it will be unique as to how much they were included during the pregnancy/birth. Open-ended questions can help you talk and listen to what your child feels. You can ask, “How does that make you feel?” or “What would you like to do for the baby?”

Children need honesty, not deception, when it comes to sharing sad news. Generally, children find ways to cope with grief. Use simple explanations “The baby died. That means her heart stopped beating and her body doesn’t work anymore. She is not with us, but we will always remember and love her very much.” explains literally what happened. Use simple and honest explanations.

Allow your child to ask questions. Younger children tend to need to repeat the same question again and again. Each time you repeat the answer or story honestly, you are allowing your child to understand it more deeply. Because you too are grieving, this may be a frustrating process. Do you best to be patient and open, as children learn how to cope from your sincere feelings, actions and responses to their questions.

How will I know if my child needs more help than I can give?

Children, just as you, will grieve and heal over time. Additional help can come from extended family, close friends, teachers, counselors, social workers, therapists, etc. You may want to seek professional counseling if you have any serious concerns, of if your child…

• Pretends nothing happened
  

• Develops a fear of school or school work dramatically declines
  

• Threatens suicide
  

• Frequently panics or shows excessive anxiety
  

• Physically assaults other people or is cruel to animals
  

• Behaves poorly with family members
  

• Becomes involved in drugs or alcohol
  

• Begins committing seriously social delinquent acts
  

Is unwilling or unable to socialize with other children

How can I help?

Is there anything family/friends can do to help?
This blog is a whole series on helping a grieving friend:
Helping a grieving friend
Other ideas here:
whispered support

Highlights for a quick read:
-ask "How are you doing?"
-ask about my child- if I don't want to talk about it I will let you know.
-Say my child's name. My child was a person, a person that was very much a part of me.
-don't expect me to be my old self again, my child has changed who I am, there will be a new normal
-don't rush me in my grief process, the process of grief takes a minimum of one year
-No one can "fix it" or take my pain away, and I don't expect you to. Just be there, just listen.
-Let me cry, even hold me as I do.
-there are many phases of grief, I need to go through all of them, it is a healthy part of the process

________________________

For me, the first few weeks I was completely numb. All I could do is cry. I just needed people to hold me and help me cry. My husband was the best at that. He would come up and put is arms around me, and I felt so safe and protected in his arms.

People would try to say things that would comfort me. I know that they all meant well, but when you are in the tidal wave of the death of a child, no words can comfort the pain of your heart being ripped from your chest. I could not sleep, I could not eat. I relied on my wonderful circle of support to provide some very basic needs in those early weeks. I could barely care for myself, let alone my family. My husband took care of everything having to do with the kids and the house, he usually does quite a bit, but he did it ALL for the first month or so after Cameron's death. He is my rock.

I loved all of the phone calls, and hearing from so many loved ones and friends. Often times I just needed to let it go to voice mail because I just did not even have the energy to talk (yes, grief can be THAT exausting). I listened to every voice mail, several times, in fact. I loved how people would send an e-mail/cards to let me know I was in their thoughts and prayers, not just once or twice in the first few weeks, but months after. I still look at the cards we received in the mail. They sit in a special basket as a reminder of how many people care.

Some say the pain of losing a child gets better over time, I disagree. I think the pain is always there, it may lessen, but it never goes away. Many women I have talked to (some have lost their child in recent weeks or months, for others it has been years or decades) say it still hurts. I think that the type of pain may change over time, and just because it changes, doesn't mean it is "all better".

For me, time and therapy is helping me learn to cope with my pain so that I can function. For me, grieving Cameron's death is something I feel I need to actively participate in. I am in a place that many people do not understand, and that is ok. I hope they never have to understand, never have to feel this kind of pain. But I need to do the things I need to do, in order to travel through my grief. Everyone's journey is different, just as every person is different. It does not mean any one way of grieving is right or wrong, just different.

• 
  

Tough questions, honest answers

Answers to some questions:

Why did Cameron die?

Cameron was considered stillborn. She died as a result of a nuchal cord. Meaning she died inside of the uterus @ around 20wks, because she got tangled in her cord. I had to be induced to remove her.

We knew nothing of her death until we went in to our doctor for our 20wk appt, and she could not find a heartbeat. We were sent for an ultra sound, and it confirmed that our baby had died. We were in COMPLETE shock, there were no signs, no warnings. We were excited and expecting our 3rd child one minute and grieving our child's death the next. We did not know the baby's gender at the time of the ultra sound. the nurse placed her in my arms and said "You had a girl" that moment we said hello and good-bye to our first daughter.

wikipedia:

A stillbirth occurs when a fetus which has died in the uterus or during labor or delivery

Miscarriage is the spontaneous end of a pregnancy at a stage where the embryo or fetus is incapable of surviving, generally defined in humans at prior to 20 weeks of gestation. Miscarriage is the most common complication of early pregnancy

Cord entanglement - The umbilical cord can wrap around an extremity, the body or the neck of the fetus. When the cord is wrapped around the neck of the fetus it is called a nuchal cord. Again, these entanglements can cause constriction of blood flow.

Death of a child

Death of a child can take the form of a loss in infancy such as abortion, miscarriage, stillbirth or neonatal death, SIDS, or the death of an older child.^[4] In all cases, parents find the grief almost unbearably devastating, and while persons may rate the death of a spouse as first in traumatic life events, the death of a child is still perhaps one of the most intense forms of grief, holding greater risk factors. This loss also bears a lifelong process: one does not get 'over' the loss but instead must assimilate and live with the death.^[5] Intervention and comforting support can make all the difference to the survival of a parent in this type of grief.

It is important for friends and family members to acknowledge the loss of the pregnancy, and not to attempt to minimalize the significance of a pregnancy that did not come to term. Feelings of guilt, whether legitimate or not, are pervasive, and the dependent nature of the relationship disposes parents to a variety of problems as they seek to cope with this great loss. Parents that suffer a loss may experience resentment towards others who experience successful pregnancies.

Hold my hand

When I first started on this awful journey called grief, some one told me:

You must grieve in the best way that you know how. Educate yourself on the grief process, find a therapist, counselor, clergy or trusted mentors to help on the journey. The most important thing is to listen to your heart, my mind and my body. You may say or do things that seem strange to others, but it makes sense to you, something in your heart is telling you to do or say what ever it is. As long as it does not bring physical harm to any one or anything, it is ok- it is all a part of the process, so please, be patient with yourself, and hopefully your support circle can just bear with you while you get through what you need to get through. There is no one right way to grieve. It is a very individual experience.

Eventually life will get back to normal, but it will be a new normal. Grief is a process, a process that takes time. A LOT of time. There are many steps, layers, and endless detours on the journey through grief.

There are so many questions, but no one wants to ask. Maybe it is the fear of upsetting me, or the fear that making me think about it will make it worse. Maybe the fear of breaking me in this fragile state of being.

My world has already been blown apart, I am already in pieces. Talking about it won't break me any further than I am already broken. Help me piece it back together.

I am facing the "tough stuff" as best I can. Some things I may never be able to do again, but I do not know, only time will tell. I will not run from this tough stuff, for it only makes it bigger, and gives it more power over me.

At times I may withdraw from things, it does not mean I am hiding or denying the situation at hand, it just means I need some time and space to process things. If you ever want to know what the 'tough stuff' is, please don't hesitate to ask.

I am healing, and I want you to be a part of my journey through my grief, so please, hold my hand, ask me questions (about Cameron, her death, my grief, the process...what ever- if I don't feel I can answer it, I won't), give me a hug (real or virtual) when you see me cry. I may be spinning in circles, but with each turn I am progressing, it is all a part of the process.