Sunday, 31 March 2013

The Bereaved Mother - repost from Still Standing Magazine

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the woman standing in front of you at the checkout line on the verge of tears because she just dropped the jar of pickles,
the cashier who seems she could care less about her job, but had to return to work much too soon after her loss,
the woman at work who tells you she doesn’t want any kids but isn’t telling you that she’s been trying for years only to have suffered numerous miscarriages,
the woman who cries in her car because everyone in real life has grown tired of trying to ‘fix’ her pain,
the woman who finds herself jumping out of airplanes, skydiving, making spontaneous road trips because she wants to squeeze life for everything it’s got, because she knows how short time could be,
the woman at marriage counseling trying not to lose her husband too,
the woman at the tattoo parlor for the first time ever, craving a way to stay connected to her departed child,
the woman at the altar, praying a broken prayer through tears and running mascara,
the woman who wonders everyday if she will lose her other children too,
the woman who laughs to hide her pain,
the woman who hides in the bathroom at social events because something about trivial conversation is nauseating at best,
the woman who no longer recognizes herself in the mirror,
the woman who strangely feels empty and empowered all at the same time,
the woman who feels like she can conquer the world, because she’s got nothing to lose,
the grandmother who shares her losses with you, only after you’ve lost a child,
the mother of young children whose hands are constantly full of cheerios, goldfish crackers and dirt, who is always being told by others how full her hands must be, but thinking to herself not full enough’.
the woman ‘addicted’ to social media because she has finally found a community that understands her pain, and her new normal,
the woman you don’t recognize anymore,
the woman who is dancing and singing out loud, not afraid to make a fool of herself,
the woman who looks broken even when she’s smiling,
the woman who wears her heart on her sleeve,
the woman who bears her grief silently, and puts on a mask for her outside world,
the woman who make a drastic career change, what seems like to the rest of the world, on a whim,
the woman who can’t seem to put two sentences together,
one of the bravest women you will ever encounter.
The bereaved mother has lost more than most people will lose in a lifetime. Consider her pain, speak gently to her, and know that grief changes you for a lifetime.
The bereaved mother is all around you.

Sunday, 24 March 2013

Losing my religion


My grandfather passed away last week.  Funerals are never easy, and for me, it triggers my own grief and loss.  His funeral mass was held in a Catholic church, as that is the faith of my family and what I was raised in.

During the mass the priest went on at length about how wonderful heaven is...I understand he did this as a way to bring our family peace about where my grandfather is now....and frankly maybe he wants us to buy our ticket to heaven by being good Catholics.

But then he started talking about these stories of children dying and going to heaven, and how they were better off.   In one story he said that the child "came back to life" and then said that when asked, the child said he would rather be in heaven then here with his family. I was so angry listening to this. I just sat there shaking my head.  Listening to this sermon, it made me not want to set foot in a Catholic church again.

After the anger passed I just felt sad.   How could it be better for Angel to be in heaven-  that she would actually choose that over being with her mom and dad?  The sermon made me feel more isolated and alone with the feelings of child loss.  I felt that familiar feeling again, like no one understands.   Jeff said later "what can you expect, he hasn't ever had to face this kind of loss." 
It is so true --- this man speaks only from theory, not real life experience. He is not authority on the grief a family feels when they lose a child.
I want my daughter here, not in heaven. Nothing could be better than her in my arms and having her outlive me, in my opinion.

Thursday, 7 March 2013

Here, missing you

We are back in our 2nd home, Jamaica, for the third time since Angel's death. I was looking forward to being here again and also curious and a bit uncertain of the emotions it would bring forward in my heart and mind. You see, this is where we escaped to just after she died. This very same country, this very same resort, this very same beach. I come here and in a strange way I feel close to her and I feel a lot of old emotions coming to the surface. At the same time I feel stronger, and I know I am a different person than the first or second time we came. In a lot of ways I have come to a place of acceptance as best as you can after your child dies. It isn't something you ever want to accept per say but I suppose I am adjusted. To the new normal and who I am now. A woman who carries a burden on her heart. A woman who in the last 18 months has felt her share of being absolutely worn out with life. What I find here in a lot of ways is the same as that first time and second time.....a sanctuary of sorts. Where I can gather my thoughts and take a step back from life and almost take a time out. Be taken care of. Be thoughtful and peaceful. And in a way selfish. Take care of me, as I still desperately need it often.
Right now my grandfather is slowly dying. He will soon cross to the other side to be with Nona and my baby girl. I think of that alot right now. I think of those on the other side and wonder what they see, think and feel about what goes on without them here. I wonder if they shout things like "what are you thinking!!" Or "how could you do that!!" Or "I miss you" or "I wish you knew I am with you."
Being here reminds me of the fine balance between life and death. Being here reminds me that they are closer than we know.
I am here missing you sweet girl.

Friday, 1 March 2013

My negative outcome

The preconception
It won't happen to me
It is an anomaly
She must have done something to cause losing the baby
My baby is healthy and will make it

The truth
It happens to 1 in 4
I pray it won't happen to you
It did happen to me
I wish it wouldn't make you uncomfortable




I had lunch with a pregnant friend a couple weeks ago. A coworker that was close to me when I was pregnant with Angel. It actually went ok. She talked vaguely about her mat leave, the size of her belly and how she gets tired at 7pm. When references to her pregnancy where mentioned I didn't say much. I wanted to. I wanted to compare stories and say I felt a lot of the same things as her. How I experienced it too, almost a full pregnancy. She knows. But I held back. Because ultimately I don't know or feel that people want to hear about or be reminded of my negative outcome.

Even with friends and family I may mention something from that time... Either when I was pregnant or "when Angel died" and I get met with sometimes stony silence. It is like dropping a lead balloon in the conversation.

What I think people don't realize is that sometimes I need or want to talk about it or reference that time in my life. It was incredibly important and yes, unfortunately did not have the outcome I wished for. But it made me who I am today. I can't erase it. I won't.

Thursday, 21 February 2013

The threshold

I am standing on the threshold between life and death. On the ledge in a scary and unfamiliar place. I don't realize at the time that I have a choice -- or rather even a fork in the road. Stay this course in the depths of sorrow and perhaps join Angel where she is... Or take the other road, which is where everyone else still is. A place of innocence and normalcy I not sure I can relate to again.

The threshold is the most frightening place I have ever been. It has changed me in an instant and forever. While standing on it I thought I was going crazy and that I would be stuck there without a way out.
The threshold was life changing.
I don't know how I got off the threshold exactly but I do know I was led off and at times even carried by others that had been there. Only those that have been there can truly know what it feels like and can reach back to help another.

At times I think about those days and months on the threshold and can't reconcile how I made it through. The darkest of dark, it shakes you to the core. You are ultimately transformed.



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Saturday, 9 February 2013

Like all the butterflies died

This is how it felt the day you left and for many, many days after. Some days it still feels this way.