- Tuesday, October 14, 2014
- 2 Thank You For Visiting
My season would be from the late Fall into early Winter. From the moment of the first falling leaf I begin to walk back into that space where she is still being held so gently in my arms.
The last months of my pregnancy were so terrible. Not because we knew that she was going to die but because we received very little support. The fall was spent traveling to physician's offices, being poked and prodded in an attempt to find out what exactly was wrong.
My family also marks October as a time of loss in general- we don't do well when it comes to October. I lost two cousins on October 25th- 20+ years apart. Brothers- my aunt has been through this baby-loss horror twice, on the same day, decades apart. One baby lost to SIDS and one grown-but-not-grown man to an automobile accident.
My mother will also be gone for two years this October 18th. It seems that the world shouldn't be turning without her in it.
- Monday, October 13, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
I love music- there is always something playing in the background in my house. I can appreciate a large cross-section of music, but I lean towards either folk music (this comes from growing up with a mother who played classical guitar and who filled my first memories with The Mamas and the Papas, Pete Seger, etc.) or early 90's New Wave music.
In my initial bereavement three CD's were my 24/7 companions.
Dave Matthews Band- Big Whiskey and The GrooGrux King. This CD was the first released after the loss of the DMB's sax player. This measure of pain and remembering was meaningful in helping me to clarify my own thoughts. We used the song "Baby Blue" for Beatrix's memorial video, which is in the left side bar. When you listen to the lyrics it will become immediately apparent why.
Mumford and Sons- Sigh No More. Such a Struggle with God and faith is elucidated in this music. I could identify with some of the frustration about expectations, the anger, and also appreciated the conclusion- the clarification of the Promise.
There is much debate, online, over whether this is a religious album. I think debate is ridiculous- it paraphrases Revelations, the Psalms, directly references heaven and God- while it may not be a "Christian" album, it nevertheless speaks about the relationship between God and Man. I found a lot of comfort in this, and look forward to seeing my daughter with Grace in her heart and flowers in her hair, at the conclusion of this life.
I was given this CD- a friend didn't like it. I didn't think I would either. What a shock to find that it was one of the most meaningful in such an important period in my life. Because it is so obviously about loss, I tried to find information about it online- I was curious to see who he had lost. I found some information leading me to believe that this was based on loss as the result of infidelity. There are some beautiful songs here, and I am so grateful for the happy mistake that brought it my way- the crisp sound of it was a refreshing change from the murky emotions I was feeling.
In my initial bereavement three CD's were my 24/7 companions.
Dave Matthews Band- Big Whiskey and The GrooGrux King. This CD was the first released after the loss of the DMB's sax player. This measure of pain and remembering was meaningful in helping me to clarify my own thoughts. We used the song "Baby Blue" for Beatrix's memorial video, which is in the left side bar. When you listen to the lyrics it will become immediately apparent why.
There is much debate, online, over whether this is a religious album. I think debate is ridiculous- it paraphrases Revelations, the Psalms, directly references heaven and God- while it may not be a "Christian" album, it nevertheless speaks about the relationship between God and Man. I found a lot of comfort in this, and look forward to seeing my daughter with Grace in her heart and flowers in her hair, at the conclusion of this life.
- Sunday, October 12, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
So.
I have been writing this one since the first day of the photo challenge because when I saw it on the list I understood that it was so important that it would require more attention than the rest of the challenges.
I have to be clear- this is not directed towards anyone- it's solely for me.
A confession of my own convictions.
It's the type of subject that would be a normal post for me as I sort out my feelings about my loss and how it's affected my faith. It's actually something that has been floating around in my head for quite some time now, though slightly different in the specifics.
The definition of altar is as follows:
"an elevated place or structure, as a mound or platform, at which religious rites are performed or on which sacrifices are offered to gods, ancestors, etc."
This is my altar, and it's the only altar that I will ever worship before.
I think that sometimes in this baby loss netherworld- this place where mothers and fathers inhabit the world with one foot in heaven- I must be very cautious in my remembering.
My child is not a god.
And I do not think that she should be worshiped as such-
I am Christian, and I only worship one being.
And that's not my child.
This is the point where I must be clear, and I must separate myself from the mysticism that seems to run rampant throughout the baby loss "community"- and in saying that, I get that some people are are mystics. And I have to say again- this is directed inward, towards me- not them.
I think that it's a beautiful thing to have a special place in my home to keep my Beatrix's memory box, her sweet blankets and the mold of her foot. I see it as no different than the photos I have of my mother, and the quilt that my great-grandmother made.
But an altar?
An altar, by its purest and most correct definition is a place where sacrifices happen.
Where worship takes place.
I think that I must guard my heart, in this instance.
The tendency to fetishize my child is strong.
I would like nothing more than to believe that she speaks to me from beyond the grave, or that I can depend on her for some otherworldly guidance. But the truth is, she doesn't and I can't.
The truth is that she is in Paradise, and I am here, and that my soul longs for what she is already experiencing.
And that she has absolutely no longing for what I am experiencing.
It seems harsh on its face- a brutal statement for the tender heart- but it means so much more.
My daughter would not want me to have an altar dedicated to her- because she is where she is. She is already touching the hand of the Christ who was there at the beginning of the universe- and if she wants anything for me, it is that I join her there. That I don't let anything come between myself and the God who holds her so gently in the palm of His hand.
If she wants anything she wants me to remember with the understanding that she has already received her reward.
That even if my longing for the second chapter of my life to begin is, in part, because I miss her and I want to see her once again- that isn't the focus of my eternity.
This isn't something to think lightly about.
It's an opportunity to reexamine my own convictions and see where I can falter in my own thoughts and actions.
Many may see this as dogmatic, and as a judgement, but I'll be clear again- this is my confession.
My reaction.
The altar in my minds eye is an altar dedicated solely to the Savior who took my sins onto Himself and who redeemed me- and my child- ensuring that while we can not be here together, one day we will be.
- Saturday, October 11, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
In Memory~
This is my shadow box, with sweet Beatrix's tiny footprint.
We {and our friends/family} have done a number of things in her memory.
My husband and I began a support site for families facing the same diagnosis-
www.limbbodywallcomplex.net
But that will be my inspiration photo, so I'll save more for that later.
One of my close friends is currently training to run a half-marathon in My Bea's memory, for Saint Joesph's Children's Hospital.
Various family members have donated to a number of organizations in her name.
Our current memory project? We are in the process of writing a proposal to our church counsel, to ask that we be allowed to fund-raise for a new playground.
We would like to do this by her 5th birthday, which would be December 2015.
We also have begun planning a new aspect of support which is often overlooked, that we are so excited about- but that's a future goal.
Much of our charitable giving and activities revolve around our daughter- and all of those gifts, whether of time, talent, or money, are done in memory of our daughter.
This is my shadow box, with sweet Beatrix's tiny footprint.
We {and our friends/family} have done a number of things in her memory.
My husband and I began a support site for families facing the same diagnosis-
www.limbbodywallcomplex.net
But that will be my inspiration photo, so I'll save more for that later.
One of my close friends is currently training to run a half-marathon in My Bea's memory, for Saint Joesph's Children's Hospital.
Various family members have donated to a number of organizations in her name.
Our current memory project? We are in the process of writing a proposal to our church counsel, to ask that we be allowed to fund-raise for a new playground.
We would like to do this by her 5th birthday, which would be December 2015.
We also have begun planning a new aspect of support which is often overlooked, that we are so excited about- but that's a future goal.
Much of our charitable giving and activities revolve around our daughter- and all of those gifts, whether of time, talent, or money, are done in memory of our daughter.
- Friday, October 10, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
Books.
I am a book reader. Since receiving our diagnosis with Beatrix, I have accumulated quite a library of books associated with loss. The majority of them focus on carrying to term with a poor pregnancy diagnosis.
This is just one portion of my shelf:
I found much comfort also in the Bible- the ultimate source of respite in the time since I lost her. The promise made, that I will see her again- that she is a unique individual, that she is not just some amaphorous energy source that I can feel if I try hard enough- I value that knowledge above all else.
- Monday, October 06, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
I journal here- and I haven't been journaling often, lately. This project is my segue way back into writing. Not really photo challenge worthy, but it is what it is
- Sunday, October 05, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
Today's challenge is "now".
This is me now. Mom with kid(s).
Older.
I'd like to think wiser, but probably not so much.
I have a difficult time being separated from my children. I need to be with them all of the time, in order to feel completely at peace.
I am leaner and meaner- I have a hard time letting things go, in situations where I think that someone is wrong. The line between my eyebrows is furrowed deep.
- Saturday, October 04, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
I'm a little behind the times with my challenges- M was ill, and I ended up using my late night "personal" time for sleeping.
My "before" photo is me during my last successful pregnancy, before losing my Bea.
This is me before:
Before I knew that women who did everything right could still have a baby with birth defects.
Before I knew that women in developed America had babies with birth defects.
Before I knew that birth defects didn't always mean a future of surgeries and hospital stays.
Before I knew that you don't have to be a drug addict or an alcoholic to have a baby with birth defects.
Before I knew that there was such an horrific thing as perinatal hospice.
Before I knew that one in four pregnancies will end in loss.
Before I knew that sometimes euthanasia can be practiced passively.
Before I knew that sometimes parents leave the hospital with empty arms.
Before I knew how to retain a calm exterior when I am quaking inside.
Before I knew that the people most interested in your sad stories are usually the ones who you should stay away from.
Before I lost my very, very best friend (32 years, down the drain).
Before I had ever seen a person die.
Before I understood genetics and the probabilities involved in having good genes, and the miraculous thing that is life- so much could go wrong. Each one if us is a miracle.
Before I was who I am now.
- Friday, October 03, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
Two years ago I attempted to finish the entire Capture Your Grief photo challenge for pregnancy and infant loss month. My mom passed away and I was unable to finish- my grief was too deep to contemplate finding a way to help walk through it.
So, this year we attempt to do it again.
I am a day late posting, but here is my day one, "Sunrise":
Because I work nights, I am unable to get up early enough to catch a sunrise- we also live in the middle of the woods and can not really see the sunrise (or sunset). By the time it is visible to us it has already reached full light- the tops of the trees illuminated. No matter how many times that I have attempted to catch a sunrise here, I have no success.
This is my post for Sunrise- my subsequent baby- sunrise after a very dark night. She is radiant. Her light creeps into every corner and knocks out all of the shadows.
I will also be posting my photos on Instagram, @shebringsjoy.
So, this year we attempt to do it again.
I am a day late posting, but here is my day one, "Sunrise":
Because I work nights, I am unable to get up early enough to catch a sunrise- we also live in the middle of the woods and can not really see the sunrise (or sunset). By the time it is visible to us it has already reached full light- the tops of the trees illuminated. No matter how many times that I have attempted to catch a sunrise here, I have no success.
This is my post for Sunrise- my subsequent baby- sunrise after a very dark night. She is radiant. Her light creeps into every corner and knocks out all of the shadows.
I will also be posting my photos on Instagram, @shebringsjoy.
- Thursday, October 02, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
"You intended to harm me, but God intended it for good to accomplish what is now being done, the saving of many lives."
Genesis 50:20
Read this today. Have so much to say on this subject, and so little time.
This is just a small note to remind myself to address this at a later point in time.
- Friday, May 02, 2014
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
I haven't been writing regularly here for a while. When I do write it's in fits and starts- and mostly when I have been frustrated at some aspect of normal life that intrudes on my abnormal, inner life. I feel a need to unload some emotional baggage and here is where I come to let go.
When I'm happy- I don't write... I take pictures. Lots and lots of pictures.
I have grasped the concept that writing here is a continuos ebb and flow. That I will always be writing about grief and anger (which is a large part of my personal grief- I lost so many people in the three years since Beatrix's death- and I am angry.) But- this isn't all of it. And I think that floundering was a part of the joy trying to push through the negative feelings. And sometimes, you have to choose joy even when it's not the most comfortable suit.
That being said- I am not setting up any plans here, but I have begun to work out some ideas that will bring honor to my sweet Beatrix's memory- I already know what I would like to do for both her fourth and fifth birthdays. I'm really excited, because after she died, I had goals which included using her name to bring joy to others. I haven't fulfilled any of those goals.
I hope that, becaus I am not setting a bar for myself, I can work around some unrealistic expectations.
I will say that a little change is going to come in the form of the "after-after" of the grieving process. Because I'm there- I've gone through the after-loss. And now it's the after-after stage. I want to keep writing, because it's cathartic, and because so many people stop when the initial grief begins to fade. I want to keep going- and I'm so happy to be actually planning a course that will focus more on the Joy that she brought.
Because I don't want to set a bar, I can't promise that I won't ever write about the dark stuff, or the angry stuff- but I will try to make more of an effort to write about the happy stuff. I want to share our journey- and the happy parts of it, whether that's through continuing to write here or sharing images of that happiness manifest in our everyday lives.
I will be sharing a bit more about our rainbow baby- because it is true, they do help to heal broken hearts. Another thing- not writing about my feelings in parenting her was a big mistake. I know now, looking back, that how I parented her- how I made it through the worrisome parts of post-loss parenting- was important. It's part of the journey that I undertook when I said "yes" to carrying Beatrix. I just want to put that out there- that there will be a little more sharing of new life- because new life is part of my post loss existence.
This is our reality now:
And it's such a beautiful reality. I can't hold it under the sadness any longer.
One last note:
Thank you, if you have read my tiny thoughts about my tiny daughter. I don't think that you can know how much it means to me to see that little viewing box at the right side of my entries, filled up with far away places. Each time that changes, it means that someone new has heard about my Beatrix. That somewhere out there, today- she has been on someone's mind. She is always, and always will be, on my mind. Every second of every day, I remember her. Again, thank you for remembering her with me.
- Friday, April 25, 2014
- 1 Thank You For Visiting
Today is a tough day.
Really.
One of those out of the blue days where my heart is ripped open and laid bare and I wonder and am angry and am humbled all at once.
One of those days that doesn't come too often anymore.
One of those days that I thought were somewhat behind me, where I would love to crawl into the back of my closet and sleep for a week.
One of those days where the tears are fresh on my eyelashes and my nose has that tingling feeling- that "I am poised to cry, so please be gentle with me" feeling.
One of those days where missing her is a physical ache- where my body aches for her and my arms can not be satisfied with anything less than her weight.
Only someone who knows this ache can take seriously the claim that every muscle in my body- every cell- cries out for relief.
And the only relief would be her, alive.
Here.
Sometimes, even though I am where I am, it's difficult not to be where I was.
- Thursday, March 06, 2014
- 1 Thank You For Visiting
About that.
My husband and I were talking about M's future. Her life, as we imagined it. We talked about her children, and our hopes that if she chose, she would be able to mother them without the same heartache that had befallen us.
Imagine that- having a baby who may one day be a mother.
I have two older sons, and while they may one day be parents- they were not born with the capability for life already in place.
My daughter has the seeds for countless generations already in place and waiting inside of her body.
And those seeds were, at one time, in my infant body (so to speak), and in my mother's body- and so on for countless generations.
I look at this sweet tiny girl, toddling around on her unsteady legs and I am awed that her generations are already in place.
My Beatrix had many anomalies that affected many parts of her body- but her reproductive organs were smashingly perfect. She had two minuscule ovaries full of her own generations, and a small womb.
I remember the sadness with which I heard the words- "here are her ovaries", from one of the physicians as they looked over test results- fetal MRI, I believe.
That was one of those moments when I became fully aware of all that would be lost- that an entire piece of my family was being wiped out in one fell swoop. And it was a messy cut- a slap in the face.
Her future intended would love, marry, and create a family with some other mother's daughter.
Her children would remain unnamed. All of those lovely children, half of whose genetic makeup was already present in her body- gone.
Can you imagine? She was the end of her own family line.
It's difficult to contemplate- that missing future.
Sometimes the sadness isn't because of what was, but what will never be.
The potential unfulfilled.
I can't forget the way that her heart beat under my fingertips- I have that forever, and my pulse will match that discordant rhythm at the end of my life.
But I will never hold her own newborn daughter in my arms.
- Saturday, March 01, 2014
- 2 Thank You For Visiting
Happy New Year, baby.
You would have been three this past month. I had all of these fancy things to say about missing you. But I find that writing them out and putting them all together into intelligible language is an impossible task.
So, I'll keep this simple.
I missed you this year.
I missed your lisping speech.
I missed your ponytails.
I missed your preferences and dislikes.
I missed taking you to your first movie. I wonder what we would have gone to see.
I missed you getting into my pocketbook and making a mess of all of my cosmetics.
I missed you having a favorite baby doll.
I missed moving you into a "big girl" bed.
I missed painting your nails.
I missed you learning your letters.
I missed you picking flowers, and bringing me crushed bouquets.
I missed seeing you as a big sister and as a little sister.
I missed your sass.
I missed your "I love you mommie".
I think people wonder about how you can possibly miss someone who was in your life for such a short period of time.
I answer back that you were not in my life for that short time only- that you are still here, growing in leaps and bounds.
The strangest thing about this situation is that unlike other people who I have loved, and who have died- you are aging in my head.
I miss the human that you are-would have been.
In my mind's eye, you have a longer body and longer hair and speech and knowledge- and you are whole. My mind never sees your "anomalies".
I see a small girl clomping along with my high heels on, a string of beads, and way too much lipstick.
There is no twisted spine. There are no misplaced or forgotten organs. Your legs are strong and long and smooth. You are vibrant and warm.
You are alive.
You are my oldest, other daughter.
My girl.
Not just the baby who died. Not just a sad story in the past- and most definitely not a source of pain.
Well, not so much any longer.
I can feel the joy entering in again- in slow spurts. It has taken time and I don't know how much is due to your big brother and little sister. I have learned not to question the good- the joy is just there and I am grateful.
I will continue to miss you in the coming year, I am certain. I will pine for you on some days.
On some days I will walk in a fog of longing, that physical sensation of holding you in my arms will be difficult to work through- the phantom baby syndrome.
On some days I will come back here and write about how darkness is enveloping me and how I don't think I can take another step.
I miss your tiny hand in mine- how could I not have days where the entire world is an empty place because you are not here?
I will miss you most desperately, each day as I go through the tasks that move me from moment to moment.
One task leading to another, until a full day of working leads into one day, leading into one week, leading into one month, leading into one year, and finally all of these quiet little tasks will lead into the stuff of one lifetime- I will miss you most desperately over the course of one lifetime- mine.
I will continue to miss you until I can no longer recall the feel of your lips against mine. Your soft skin. Your feet in the palm of my hand.
And on the day that I do not miss you, then I think it is safe to assume that someone here, will be missing me.
- Tuesday, December 31, 2013
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
I do want to note my baby M's birthday:
She turned one. She survived that dreaded first year.
I love her so.
She is a balm for my broken heart- I can not wait to see who she grows into, in this new year.
- Monday, December 23, 2013
- 1 Thank You For Visiting
One day, I will be old.
My hair will be white and my skin will fall loosely from my face.
I will have yellow fingernails and false teeth.
I will be old.
You will never be old. Your hair will stay it's red, dark and wispy. Your eyes will remain clear and your fingernails will keep their tiny pale moons.
You would have been three years old on Friday. Your hair would have fit into ponytails. You would have been big enough to sit at the table. You would have been able to help make your own cake.
But you will never be older. You will never age- you will remain elusive and you will remain the same. Always the same.
- Tuesday, December 17, 2013
- 0 Thank You For Visiting
