The call

Last night Jeff and I got "the call."  His coworker's friend lost her baby boy, Noah, on Monday of this week, at full term.  We were reached out to for advice and resources. 
I knew this would happen at some point, and I had thought maybe it would be from the hospital/memory box recipient, but all the same, I am glad that I can help someone else who is going through this heartbreaking experience.  Glad that I can be there but devastated for her and for the loss of her precious son. 

It took us back to the early days for sure.  Jeff told me as soon as I walked in the door.  At first I said "No" and was shocked really...then I went upstairs and saw Angel's picture and I just cried.   

 

I have to say, I did have to struggle a bit to try to put myself back in that place, 5 days after it happened.  What was I really thinking and feeling and what did I need most?  Although I have flashbacks to that time often, I know that I have overcome so much in this past year.  I feel strong enough to reach back and grab someone else's hand.   

I didn't want to overwhelm her with resources, but I sent her a few key things - online resources and face to face groups she could join.  I also sent her a letter from Little Bird, for moms and dads that have lost a baby, and I told her about my experience with individual counselling and how it could help her cope.  I also gave my contact info. I hope that she contacts me. 

Today is the funeral for Noah....fly high.....

Redondo Beach

Last night, Jeff discovered another Morrissey song that references a little girl...and angel....we listened to it and cried. 

It reminds me of  the first moments of grief, and the early days of heartache on the beach in Jamaica, looking for answers in the ocean....wondering about her setting sail to her afterlife.  And we are here, left behind.  She is gone.

Down by the ocean
It was so dismal
Women all standing
With shock on their faces
Sad description
Oh, I was looking for you

Everyone was singing
Girl is washed up
On Redondo Beach
And everyone is so sad
I was looking for you
Are you gone, gone?

Hey little girl
Everyone cried
How she was the victim of suicide
I was looking for you
Are you gone, gone?
Down by the ocean
It was so dismal
Women all standing
With shock on their faces
Sad description
Oh, I was looking for you

Desk clerk told me
A girl is washed up
Was small, an angel
With apple blond hair now
I was looking for you
Are you gone, gone?

Picked up my key
And I didn't reply
I just went into my room
And I started to cry
It was morning, angel
Are you gone, gone?

Down by the ocean
It was so dismal
I was just standing
With shock on my face though
The hearse pulled away
And the girl that had died it was you
You'll never return
Into my arms
You'll never return
Into my arms
You'll never return
Into my arms
'Cause you're gone, gone
Gone, gone
Gone, gone

It still hurts.  It always will.  We grieve for Angel every. single. day.

A link to share - Living Child Free

I debated about sharing this link here but I think it is important to talk about all aspects of babyloss and the life thereafter, and ensure this is an open discourse for women and men that come by my site.

Mrs. Spit posted about this link today, on “Living Child Free.”

http://mrsspit.ca/?page_id=3702

She talks about making the choice, about what this choice meant to her, finding a new path, and also responding to others when they question the choice.  She touches on loneliness, and support networks, and finding meaning as you move forward.   

I really loved her reference to the "mini-van mafia" - this had me laugh out loud.  But the most poignant thing I thought was when she says:

It’s never the job of another human to make you complete. Making yourself complete is your job.

I have to say, I really appreciate the honest and transparent perspective of someone who is walking this road.  I don’t know if this will be my choice, but if it is, and if it is the choice of some of you reading, I hope this article helps you find ways to cope, and allows you to find peace in your heart. 

26.8.11

One year ago today, we held our service of remembrance for Angel.  I remember alot about that day so clearly. 

We held it at James Gardens, the same park we had our wedding photos done at in 2003.  On the way over, I remember feeling like I was going to be sick to my stomach.  I think that was partly the shock of what we were about to do - and the turn of events I was still trying to come to terms with.  At the same time, I knew this was so important for us to give her a sendoff that we wanted, in her honour.

It was a perfect, sunny day and the park was so calm and beautiful.
I will never forget how many of our friends and family came out that day, to show their love and support.






Jeff and I wrote the service, and we tried to focus on our love for Angel and also what lessons we had learned from this experience.  I feel it was a message of love - for her and for everyone there - not to let a day go by without showing compassion for others on this Earth.
Jeff got up and spoke twice - once was a preplanned speech that he prepared, talking about what Angel has taught us.  The second time - the masters of ceremony left out a key story we wanted told near the end, so he stepped in and told it, without any notes.  I am so proud of his courage and strength that he showed that day. I know I didn't have the frame of mind to speak at that time.





At the end of the service, we did a butterfly release. 




One of the butterflies landed on the blanket I had brought, that I was sitting on earlier.







Driving home afterwards, with Angel's urn in my lap, I couldn't help but think that I should be holding her, not her urn. 

I shall remember you for as long
as there are fields of snow
and there are flowers in the ground
with strength to grow.

As long as there are stars above
and moonbeams on the sea,
and just as long as there are songs
of love and memory.

I shall remember you today
and dream of you tonight,
and look for you tomorrow when
the sun begins to light.

Whatever season, month or year,
this much will be the same,
the only sound of joy will be,
the mention of your name.

I shall remember you for as long
As there are earth and sky.
And all eternity
may take to say good bye.

~ James Metcalfe

Wishing tree

My friend Monica and her husband Nigel were in California recently and they visited a place called Little Tokyo, where you can find many "wishing trees" -- in these trees people attach notes to their loves ones that have passed, and you can also attach a wish. Monica generously offered to attach notes for my baby girl and for a few other babyloss moms too.
I am so glad I was able to do this, especially so close to Angel's birthday. At the same time it makes my heart hurt because I miss her so much. I can't say enough how I wish things were different, and that she was in my arms for her first birthday.

This week Jeff discovered a Morrissey song that talks about a girl named Angel...one of the lyrics is "I love you more than life." This pretty much sums up our feelings for our baby girl -- it is a heartache we carry every day.

Here is what I asked Monica to post for Angel.

August 19th - day of hope

"August 19th is a day to break down the walls of society that keep pregnancy, infant and child loss a hush hush subject. People view the death of a baby as just a sad thing that happened. These babies that die are not sad things that happen. They are people, much loved and wanted children. They are brothers, sisters, nieces, nephews, grandsons and grand daughters." Carly Marie Dudley



Remembering my daughter, Angel Eternity Stewart, today and everyday.

I think she sent me this beautiful butterfly this morning. :)

Why can't they all be here?

In the last few weeks, three of my babyloss friends have had rainbow babies, a subsequent child after their loss, or in some cases losses. I can't express how happy, relieved and hopeful this makes me for them, who have suffered so much and who deserve a change in this life's path or repayment in karma. They are beautiful mothers to all of their children, here and in heaven.

I still question why we can't have all our babies here with us. The injustice of the circumstance is beyond words for me. Why can't they all be in our arms? I will never understand.

I carried Angel with me for 31 weeks, I held my beautiful baby girl's little hand in mine at birth for a few treasured moments. I carry her in my heart for a lifetime.