A "Still" Father

My child is gone
I hardly remember
Her coming
A moment in time
That was both
The longest
And shortest
Of my life.
Anticipation
Devastation
And now
Reclamation
Putting the pieces
Of my soul
In semblance
Of order.
Time to go on
Time to get on
With life
With love
With a hole
In my heart
But with joy
For that moment.
I am her father
A blessed gift
Through whom I have learned
I can love
Deeply
That which I cannot hold
Except in my heart
Knowing I am forever her father.

by Richard Olsen, founder and Executive Director of The National Stillbirth Society

Eternal

When you accept what has happened, you aren't acknowledging that it is okay, but rather that you know you must find a way to keep growing and living - even if you don't feel like it. [Don't let] grief be your constant companion. Realize that your grief is born out of unconditional love for your child, and rejoice in that love which will never end. Embracing life again is not a sign that you have stopped missing your baby, but an example of a love that is eternal.

-Wisconsin Perspectives Newsletter, Spring 1989

Years of Joy

"Whole years of joy glide unperceived away, while sorrow counts the minutes as they pass." -William Havard



Don't let this happen to you. Yes, grieve, but let the grief lessen and lessen as time goes by. It will not happen without your permission. Then you can feel the joy and happiness of life again. And remember, happiness does not equal forgetfulness.

My Mom Is a Survivor

My mom 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 mom,
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 mom 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 mom has a broken heart
that time won't ever heal.

-Kaye Des'Ormeaux

Thinking of and praying for all you mom's of angels this Mother's Day.

An Ugly Pair of Shoes

I am wearing a pair of shoes.
They are ugly shoes.
Uncomfortable Shoes.
I hate my shoes.
Each day I wear them, and each day I wish I had another pair.
Some days my shoes hurt so bad that I do not think I can take another step.
Yet, I continue to wear them.
I get funny looks wearing these shoes.
They are looks of sympathy.
I can tell in others eyes that they are glad they are my shoes and not theirs.
They never talk about my shoes.
To learn how awful my shoes are might make them uncomfortable.
To truly understand these shoes you must walk in them.
But, once you put them on, you can never take them off.
I now realize that I am not the other one who wears these shoes.
There are many pairs in the world.
Some women are like me and ache daily as they try and walk in them.
Some have learned how to walk in them so they don't hurt quite as much.
Some have work the shoes so long that days will go by
before they think of how much they hurt.
No woman deserves to wear these shoes.
Yet, because of the shoes I am a stronger women.
These shoes have given me the strength to face anything.
They have made me who I am.
I will forever walk in the shoes of a woman who has lost a child.

-Unknown

My Poem for Olivia

She was supposed to be here now,
So cuddly, warm and sweet.
You planned for months, and felt her move,
And loved her more each day.


This baby girl, you hadn’t met,
Filled you up with pride.
We couldn’t wait to meet her too,
And look into her eyes.


Then, with no notice,
She was taken from this place.
I heard the phone, got a lump in my throat,
And knew nothing would be the same.


Tears rolled freely down my cheeks,
As I listened to the news.
My heart just ached, and I wondered what
Your hearts must be going through.


Olivia Marie,
The name just seemed to fit,
The precious girl who couldn’t stay,
Though we wished so much she could.


She must be special to have left,
Such a mark on us.
And what a day it will be,
When we meet her face to face.


She will always be your daughter,
Our granddaughter, niece and cousin.
We’ll just have to wait a while,
To see Livy’s perfect smile.

-Olivia's Aunt Mandy

Happy Heavenly Birthday, Olivia

Two years can go by so quickly, yet so slowly. We miss you every single day. We pray you know how much we love you. We can hardly wait until we meet again. Happy heavenly birthday, baby. We know you'll have a wonderful day in heaven.

Poem Without A Name

This was sent to me by a friend who has babies in heaven:

"The following poem was sent to us by a mother who received it from a friend. The friend had no idea who wrote it. Surely though, whoever did must have been someone like us, to capture not just the pathos of stillbirth, but the emptiness that greets mothers when they step back into the world.

"What is it in our culture that causes so many to fear death so much that they will go out of their way to not even discuss it? Is this aversion like the blinders horses wear, so they are not startled by peripheral events? If so, we’re going to miss a lot of life along the roads we travel for not accepting that all roads have endings.

"We have experienced the best and the worst life has to offer. And yet is there any one of us who – were we given a chance knowing the outcome – would not have gone through the fire? We are not to be pitied for our loss. It is they, who have 'died', but not yet stopped breathing or fallen over, that deserve the pity."


Poem Without A Name

To those who look away when I grow teary-eyed in the baby department,
look a little deeper.
Surely you have some compassion in your heart.

To those who change the subject when we speak our baby's name,
change your way of thinking.
It just might change your whole life.

To those who roll their eyes and say that we barely had her at all,
how could we miss her so much,
in our hearts we have seen her live a thousand times.
We have seen her first steps, her first day of school, her wedding, and her children.
We have had her forever in our minds.

To those who say we can have another, we did.
I thank God for that everyday,
but even if I have twenty more babies,
I will forever have one in the grave,
and that is one too many.

To those who say to get on with my life, I have.
It is a different life,
the life of a grieving mother.
One with a tremendous amount to be thankful for,
but also one with a lot to mourn the loss of!

Do not judge the bereaved mother.
She comes in many forms.
She is breathing, but she is dying.
She may look young, but inside she has become ancient.
She smiles, but her heart sobs.
She walks, she talks, she cooks, she cleans, she works,
she IS, but she IS NOT, all at once.
She is here, but part of her is elsewhere for eternity.

Do not dismiss us; we have shaped more than just the future generation.
We have released all the tiny angels who are watching over you.
Open your eyes to US,
and you just might see THEM.

-Author Unknown

Mothers

There are women that become mothers without effort, without thought, without patience or loss and though they are good mothers and love their children, I know that I will be better.

I will be better not because of genetics, or money or that I have read more books but because I have struggled and toiled for this child.

I have longed and waited. I have cried and prayed. I have endured and planned over and over again.

Like most things in life, the people who truly have appreciation are those who have struggled to attain their dreams.

I will notice everything about my child. I will take time to watch my child sleep, explore and discover.

I will marvel at this miracle every day for the rest of my life.

I will be happy when I wake in the middle of the night to the sound of my child, knowing that I can comfort, hold and feed him and that I am not waking to take another temperature, pop another pill, take another shot or cry tears of a broken dream. My dream will be crying for me.

I count myself lucky in this sense; that God has given me this insight, this special vision with which I will look upon my child that my friends will not see.

Whether I parent a child I actually give birth to or a child that God leads me to, I will not be careless with my love. I will be a better mother for all that I have endured.

I am a better wife, a better aunt, a better daughter, neighbor, friend and sister because I have known pain.

I know disillusionment as I have been betrayed by my own body. I have been tried by fire and hell many never face, yet given time, I stood tall.

I have prevailed.

I have succeeded.

I have won.

So now, when others hurt around me, I do not run from their pain in order to save myself discomfort.

I see it, mourn it, and join them in theirs. I listen.

And even though I cannot make it better, I can make it less lonely.

I have learned the immense power of another hand holding tight to mine, of other eyes that moisten as they learn to accept the harsh truth and when life is beyond hard.

I have learned a compassion that only comes with walking in those shoes.

I have learned to appreciate life.

Yes I will be a wonderful mother.

-Author Unknown

Rainbow Baby

A Rainbow Baby is one who comes after the storm of pregnancy loss. The loss is the storm, not the baby lost.

Livy's little brother arrived safely three weeks ago. We're sure that Olivia helped him along the way. He beat all the odds against him being conceived and gestating, and made it through having the cord wrapped around his neck and meconium in his bag of waters before birth.

Miracles do happen. Here's ours:



Thank you, Olivia, for being his guardian angel. We love you and miss you being here on earth with us.