Welsh Lullaby

My darling husband, Olivia's daddy, sang this song at her graveside service.

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Carter & Bennett

Someones very dear to me lost their twin boys last May. Their first heavenly birthday just passed. Baby loss is not something I'd wish on my worst enemy, much less people I dearly love.

In Loving Memory of Carter & Bennett

You are thought of often.

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May 2013

May is a tough month for me. Today it is June, but I am grieving hard tonight.

May 1, 2013 - Olivia's 6th heavenly birthday:

Mother's Day 2013:

Yes, even with my four rainbow babies I still grieve for my firstborn. And no, that does not make me ungrateful. It makes me human. (Aren't my rainbows the cutest?)

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Return to Zero

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Birthday Visit

Visiting big sister. Brother picked out the American flag balloon and the red star balloon. Sister loved all the balloons.

 A dozen pink roses for our beautiful baby girl.

We would have be registering her for Kindergarten this year.

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5th Heavenly Birthday

Happy 5th heavenly birthday to our beautiful angel girl. Momma misses you every minute. Too many emotions to say more...

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Precious Photographs

With all the talk about the Duggars losing their 20th child at 20 weeks I've seen many posts of articles about it on Facebook. This one, however, is my favorite. I do not agree with the Duggars lifestyle, but my heart goes out to them and I hope they are receiving the support they need.

"Dear Michelle and Jim Bob Duggar,
I'm so sorry to hear about the death of your baby daughter Jubilee Shalom. I saw the photograph of you holding her feet, so tiny yet so perfect. And so precious. I'm sure you will treasure every photograph, especially the ones that illustrate your love for her.

Showing the photographs at Jubilee's memorial service was such a touching and fitting tribute to your baby girl. Making them available to the public is provoking both compassion and outrage. Compassion is coming from those who empathize. Outrage is coming from those who are frightened.

I wonder if you are even aware of the naysayers, the doubters, and the critics, some of whom are watching in abject horror. They look at you and can't imagine why you're not shrugging off this experience, as if it's akin to a rained-out picnic or missing a bus. They wonder, what's the big deal? You never even got to know the kid! You can just have another one. Or better yet enjoy the ones you've got!"

Click here to read the article in it's entirety: http://www.psychologytoday.com/blog/laugh-cry-live/201112/precious-photographs-open-letter-michelle-and-jim-bob-duggar.

(Photo shown is not of the Duggar's angel baby.)

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For Friends and Family

I have been asked three times this month how to support parents who are grieving a pregnancy or infant loss. This little article from SHARE is the perfect place to start:

For many families who are pregnant with or have recently delivered a very loved and wanted baby, hopes and dreams are torn apart with the news that the baby has died. For the rest of the world around them, not much seems changed. Unfortunately, something very sad and life altering has happened that needs to be acknowledged. A baby has died.

Following are some suggestions on how to support a parent whose baby has died.

Say "I’m Sorry"
If you can’t find the right words, it is better to say, “I’m sorry,” than nothing at all.


Avoid Clichés
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“Thank goodness you are young, you can still have more children.”
“There must have been something wrong with the baby.”
“I understand how you feel.” (unless you have an experience to share)
“It was meant to be”
“You have an angel in heaven.”
“At least you didn’t get to know the baby.”
“You are so strong, I could never handle this.”
“I guess it’s good it happened now.”
“At least you have children at home.”
“God would never give you more than you could handle.”

What may seem comforting to you may be very hurtful to others. Clichés tend to minimize the loss and the emotions a parent has toward their baby.


Say “I Don’t Know What to Say”
If you are unaware of what to say, simply say, “I don’t know what to say.” Honesty can be more comforting than words with less meaning.


Silence Can Be Okay
Sometimes there is just nothing to say. Just be quiet, be with them, hold their hand, touch their shoulder, or give them a hug.


Apologize for Hurtful Comments
If you do say something insensitive, acknowledge it and apologize. These comments can cause hurt and future resentment.


Responses to Death
Do the same things for the death of a baby as you would if another family member died. Send flowers, sympathy cards, share special remembrances, phone calls, make/bring dinner. If you are a close family member or friend, it may be helpful if you ask to help maintain laundry, basic housecleaning or cooking, or watch other children at home (if applicable). Be sure to obtain permission from the bereaved family before disassembling the baby’s room or removing baby items.


To read more ways to better support a parent, click here to download a brochure.

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Coping With the Holidays While Grieving

Christmas has always been a time for family. But when you feel like a part of your family is missing, it can be a particularly difficult time of year. Although it has been thirteen years now, I vividly remember our first Christmas after Bret died. He was born with angel wings in August 1995, but his original due date was November 30. Therefore, we had planned on having a new baby with whom to celebrate Christmas with that year. That Christmas, I worried that my emptiness would swallow me.
In the past, I relished our tradition of opening up a nice bottle of wine, cranking up the Christmas carols on the stereo, and helping our son put as many lights and ornaments on the tree as we could without toppling it over. That Christmas, we continued our tradition for our son's sake, but my heart just wasn't in it. Everything took on new meaning that year. Remembering that it was baby Jesus' birthday just reminded me of the baby I lost. The angel we always put on top of the tree gained new significance—I prayed an angel like that one would be watching over my baby. Shortly after Bret died, we were touched to find a teddy angel ornament that was dressed in blue. That Christmas, it was the last ornament we put on the tree, and many tears flowed that night as we ached for our baby boy to be with us. I dreaded Christmas day, not wanting to revisit my pain.
But like most other anxious experiences, the time leading up to the event was worse than the day itself. On Christmas morning, I began to find solace in the symbolism of the season, and I found a lot of comfort in our little blue teddy angel. I felt as though Bret was there with us. Losing Bret made me cherish my son and husband even more. It turned out to be one of the most meaningful Christmas seasons I had ever experienced.
The most important tip for handling the holidays after a major loss is to be gentle with yourself, and do what feels the most comfortable. Here are some other suggestions:
-Acknowledge that Christmas is coming. As much as you may want to avoid it, you can't.
-Try not to “float” into Christmas. Be deliberate in choosing what you would like to do.
-Avoid thinking about what you “should” do. You need to do what is right for you instead of feeling obligated. Decide to do what you can manage and let your friends and family know. There are no “right” or “wrong” ways to celebrate the holidays.

Click here to read the article in it's entirety: http://nationalshare.blogspot.com/2011/12/coping-with-holidays-while-grieving.html.

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Christmas Grief

Christmas has always been a time for family. But when you feel like a part of your family is missing, it can be a particularly difficult time of year. Although it has been thirteen years now, I vividly remember our first Christmas after Bret died. He was born with angel wings in August 1995, but his original due date was November 30. Therefore, we had planned on having a new baby with whom to celebrate Christmas with that year. That Christmas, I worried that my emptiness would swallow me.
In the past, I relished our tradition of opening up a nice bottle of wine, cranking up the Christmas carols on the stereo, and helping our son put as many lights and ornaments on the tree as we could without toppling it over. That Christmas, we continued our tradition for our son's sake, but my heart just wasn't in it. Everything took on new meaning that year. Remembering that it was baby Jesus' birthday just reminded me of the baby I lost. The angel we always put on top of the tree gained new significance—I prayed an angel like that one would be watching over my baby. Shortly after Bret died, we were touched to find a teddy angel ornament that was dressed in blue. That Christmas, it was the last ornament we put on the tree, and many tears flowed that night as we ached for our baby boy to be with us. I dreaded Christmas day, not wanting to revisit my pain.
But like most other anxious experiences, the time leading up to the event was worse than the day itself. On Christmas morning, I began to find solace in the symbolism of the season, and I found a lot of comfort in our little blue teddy angel. I felt as though Bret was there with us. Losing Bret made me cherish my son and husband even more. It turned out to be one of the most meaningful Christmas seasons I had ever experienced.
The most important tip for handling the holidays after a major loss is to be gentle with yourself, and do what feels the most comfortable. Here are some other suggestions:
Acknowledge that Christmas is coming. As much as you may want to avoid it, you can't.
Try not to “float” into Christmas. Be deliberate in choosing what you would like to do.
Avoid thinking about what you “should” do. You need to do what is right for you instead of feeling obligated. Decide to do what you can manage and let your friends and family know. There are no “right” or “wrong” ways to celebrate the holidays.

Click here to read the article in it's entirety: http://nationalshare.blogspot.com/2011/12/coping-with-holidays-while-grieving.html.

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Remembering Our Babies

Faces of Loss, Faces of Hope's Monthly Writing Challenge for October is "Remembering Our Babies". Since October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month FOL,FOH wants to know how we as parents remember our baby(ies) during this extra special month.

I can't say that I think of my daughter more this month than any other months. She's kind of constantly in my thoughts and with me. I do spread awareness more often during the month of October though. I post pregnancy loss info and statistics on my status on Facebook. I wear pink and blue in my hair so people will ask questions. I light a special candle in my home. I feel more empowered to talk about pregnancy and infant loss during the month of October because it is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month. I post the picture in the previous post on Facebook often. Basically I try to do little things to spread awareness. I've found that with PAIL awareness it's the little things that do the most good.

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Wave of Light

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Relationships

FOL FOH did not have a monthly writing challenge for July. August and September are together in one topic - relationships.

After the loss of our daughter my relationship with my husband became stronger. Sure there were those tense times when he couldn't understand how I expressed my emotions, but that's just gonna happen between the sexes. He was my rock. He held me and comforted me though he was hurting himself. We became closer because our true selves were exposed. Tragedy tends to do that.

After the loss of my daughter I drew away from my momma. She didn't understand, and tried to say the right things, but ended up saying all the wrong things. People who have never been through the loss of a pregnancy and/or child cannot understand and so do not know which things are right to say and which are wrong. True, some things are obvious, but things like "she's in a better place" or "you can have another" are meant to help and the person saying them cannot understand how it actually does more damage than helps. I withdrew from her after hearing several of these comments. It took months to get back to where we were.

After the loss of my daughter my relationship with my sister I am close to changed too. I withdrew from her because she had two beautiful and healthy children and mine was dead. She had no problems getting pregnant and we did. She could get pregnant again at any time she wanted, but chose not to at the time. I never did and never will have the luxury of that choice. It took months before we were close again too.

After the loss of my daughter my relationship with family and friends changed too. No one knew what to do or say so most, but not all, did and said nothing. I am still not sure if that is better than trying and saying the wrong thing. Thoughts?

There was one friend, who I've mentioned before, who listened and looked at pictures and asked questions, and took the lead from me and talked about Olivia as if she were our real true daughter who we lost, because she took the time to understand that Olivia was and is our real true daughter who we lost. Thank you P. I will NEVER forget.

Unfortunately, when a woman loses a pregnancy and/or child not only does she have to deal with the grief of it she also has to deal with educating people about what to do and say and what not to do and say. And we must do it. We must. If we don't. how will they know? We cannot forever hold them accountable for something they did not realize was wrong.

Here is a link to a basic yet helpful printable page you can give to help people learn: Support for Family & Friends. At the bottom of the page is a link for a beautifully done printable pamphlet you can also give to help people learn.

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Another Due Date Day

August 20th was the anniversary of Olivia's due date. We were camping. I didn't get to bring her flowers or balloons, but I thought of her all day long. All day long. I love that baby of mine. I love that little girl, that young woman she would have been, the woman who would have been my best friend in my over-the-hill years. What a beautiful life she would have had, and we would have had with her.

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Summer Memories

You may remember, I joined Faces of Hope's monthly writing challenge (FOHMWC). I missed June. Let me catch up.



I didn't get to make any summer memories with our Livy. The only connection summer and Olivia has is her due date. Her due date was August 20, 2007. On that day, months after she was born still, we held a balloon release at her grave. We invited family and friends. Trissy, Sam, their boys, Stefanie, Stacy, Paula, her little son, and Amanda came. We placed six beautiful pink roses in her vase for the six beautiful months we had with her. We released six pink balloons. Paula and Amanda each brought a balloon too.

Momma and Aunt Mickey did a balloon release in my hometown. Aunt Janis and family did one too with yellow balloons. I felt so grateful.

Every due date we visit her grave. We usually leave a "thinking of you" balloon and release another to find it's way to her.

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Already

I am already thinking about the fact that Olivia's next birthday will be her fifth. We've decided to fundraise to purchase a pretty paver in our local zoo's beautiful carousel courtyard for her. The paver will read "In Memory of Olivia (middle name) (last name)". The total cost is only $100. We have a website through ChipIn! where family and friends can go to donate through our personal PayPal account. I'm even thinking about having a little get-together at the carousel courtyard with a birthday cake for those who donate. Yes, I think I will. I love so much that girl of mine.



Her fifth birthday will be on May 1, 2012, but the fundraiser ends on January 30, 2011 to allow time to submit the engraved paver request and to have the engraving done.

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4th Birthday Visit

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A Box In The Ground

Four years ago today hubby and I drove to the funeral home to say goodbye to our daughter's perfect little body. We were led down a hall and into a small room with a couch and side table. Across from the couch was a rectangular table against the wall with the tiniest of coffins on it. Our daughter's body was laying inside. She was a little over half way bigger than that tiny coffin. Yet there she was, ten fingers, ten toes, button nose, knees, elbows, Daddy's feet and Momma's legs. Somewhere behind those closed eyelids there was the color blue. My daughter that had grown in my belly for six months or so. My daughter that was so much wanted by her daddy and myself. My daughter that I planned so much for, that had a full nursery waiting for her with pink clothes and towels and sheets and stuffed animals and blankets. There lay my daughter who I wanted to show the world and who I wanted to show the world to. No one would ever see her but us. Not in this life. There lay all my hopes and dreams of becoming a mother to a bouncing baby girl. Dead were the possibilities of potty training, pre-school, first day of kindergarten, Girl Scouts, scraped knees, first love, college graduation, wedding, her children. All gone. And it happened so quickly. Just seven days, one week, earlier we were expecting all these things. Instead we held her, cried over her, sang to her, spent one-on-one time with her, made sure her clothes were perfect, enclosed a tiny teddy bear, and a picture of us with her, wrapped her in one of the blankets from her nursery, kissed her goodbye, and sealed the lid.
Hubby carried her to the funeral home car. I sat beside him with that box in his lap. That box that held all his hopes and dreams. That box that we would have to put in a deep, dark, cold hole in the ground. That tiny box that held so much. He carried her to the grave site. After the grave-side service I couldn't leave. I couldn't leave my baby laying out there in the open unprotected by momma's arms. Doug could not pull me away. The fellow from the funeral home asked the cemetery workers to bypass protocol and bury her with us watching. A man came and lowered my daughter into that hole. Then came a machine with a scoop of dirt. She got covered and I felt she was safe. The man arranged the flowers on top of the tiny mound of dirt and was gone. The fellow from the funeral home waited a ways away in silence. It took a few minutes, many, many tears, and a slight nudge from hubby, but I was finally able to leave. Only to return hundreds of times later.

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Mother's Day

It is upon me. Mother's Day. Mother's Day is a day I'd rather skip and a day that I look forward to all in one. Mother's Day. Just the thought of it makes me cry. Crying is my first reaction to thinking about Mother's Day. I have two beautiful healthy children. I thought somehow that would make Mother's Day a 100% positive day for me. No matter how many living breathing children I have I will always have one in the grave, and that is one too many. Focusing too much on the negative? My child is not a negative thing. My child dying is a negative thing. You have two arms. Lets cut one off and bury it in the ground and see which one you have trouble not focusing on. Thinking about. Yearning for. For me it is unfortunate that Mother's Day always falls on a Sunday. Sunday's mean church. I love church. But Mother's Day at church makes Mother's Day even harder, or at least it always has in the past. Every year the little children go up to the front and sing sweet songs in their precious little voices about mother's. Every year my Olivia is missing. Four. She would be four this year. Maybe when my living children are old enough to sing it will not be so hard. It will be wonderful to look up there and see a child of mine. But Olivia will still be missing. And this is only one reason it's so tough. Think I'm focusing on the negative again? Let's cut off one of your legs. You can go on without it. You can get a new leg. Maybe even one that's better than your old one. It just takes time. You'll get used to it. After a while you won't even remember you ever had it. You can still walk. You should be grateful for just being alive and having such a wonderful life. Right. And a child is so so so much more precious that a limb. A child. My child. My child is not here and knowing where she is does not make me miss her any less. She should be. She should be here with me. My babies should have an older sister. My son should not be the oldest of my children. I should be a mother of three. And I am, but only to myself. I wish she had had the chance to experience this world and be a part of an earthly family. I wish she could have seen a butterfly, a fish, a rainbow, a playground. I wish she could be here to get sunburns and eat ice cream and make snow angels. Mother's Day I am grateful, extremely, emotionally, strongly grateful for my two living children. Mother's Day I am in despair for the loss of my firstborn living here on this earth with her family.



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Writing Challenge

I have accepted Faces of Hope's Monthly Writing Challenge. This month's topic is, of course, Mother's Day. My post is coming soon...

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