Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 9: Surrender + Embrace

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

Completely surrendering myself to grif on multiple occasions has allowed me to release my emotions. The hurt, the anger, the unfairness. I was always afraid to giving in to how I was feeling. Like I had to hold it together for my family or if I did break down, I would  not be able to bring myself back together. But I always did and afterwards I felt lighter. I was able to flow with grief rather than fight with it. I have screamed into pillows, cried myself to sleep and I am amazed at how much tension I was able to release. Surrendering to whatever it is you are feeling is one of the most powerful experiences of being present and in the moment. To sit and allow yourself to feel sadness is very profound. How do you feel about surrendering to grief? Have you done it before or are you more the type that just keeps carrying it all inside. Does the idea of falling apart frighten you? Share your thoughts.

I think that the surrender to grief, the giving in to emotion, the giving in to the gut-wrenching sobs and all the tears are what allows me to "move forward" with my grief. The surrendering allows emotions that I have (usually subconscious) been keeping down to rise to the surface and reveal components of my grief that maybe I wasn't ready to deal with be dealt with. It's physically exhausting, the crying and tears, but it's what has, in the past, given me breakthroughs in terms of letting go of the pain and taking in the love of and for my children.

Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 8: Beautiful Mysteries

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

To me, my son is a beautiful mystery. I gave birth to him and yet I never knew him. I sometimes allow myself to imagine that he is alive in another time and space and that we are all together. If it is not too painful, allow yourself to imagine who your child would be now. What would they be like? What would they be passionate about. Tell a wild, beautiful story about them.

It is painful to think about what Oscar, Bella, Tittle and Firefly would be like because so much time has passed that it makes it harder and harder to know who they would be if they were here. I always think of Oscar as the prim and proper, rule-follower, no-nonsense all-business type kid, but would he have a silly side to him? Would Bella be the drama queen we thought she'd be? Would Tittle truly love camo and sneaky things? And Firefly, would she be as flashy?

As I sit here typing this, and imagine my kids if they were alive today, this is what I see.

Oscar would like school, he would like science and techy things. He would be quite and reserved. But when his real smile came out it would be broad and full of life; his eyes would sparkle. And I could totally see him wanting to wear bow ties.

Bella would be good in school, but her favorite part would be the socialization. She would be into fashion and would plan her outfits out so they were just right. She would be outspoken and not quiet. She would be opinionated and stubborn, but she would love with her whole heart.

Tittle would be our trickster. The one who would hide in clothing racks at a store so he could jump out and surprise you. He would be the one I'd worry about running into the street without looking because he would be too busy living life to check for traffic. He would do okay in school, but would much rather be EXPERIENCING things, rather than sitting inside a school learning about stuff.

Firefly would be our quiet one, but when she spoke it would be profound and from deep in her heart. She would be able to sense emotions, and if someone needed someone, she would slip in, grab a hand and just sit until she could tell the person was doing a little bit better, with nothing exchanged other than the sharing of emotions. Her hands would be soft, her hugs warm and her kisses at bedtime sweet. I don't know why, but I just keep thinking she would be like glitter in the rain.

Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 6: Empathy

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

So often when someone experiences the death of a baby or child, family and loved ones fail miserably at empathy because they try to fix what has happened....So today you are invited to educate people on the art of empathy. We don't need to turn this into a vent about what not to say, but rather what to say and what they can do that will actually comfort the grieving. What does empathy look like for you?

Allowance. To me, empathy looks like allowance. The allowing of one person, the bereaved, to BE without trying to fix or judge or advance healing. Empathy is allowing the grieving parent to be with their feelings at that moment and just let that experience happen. Hand me a tissue when I'm crying. Give me a hug on an especially hard day. Grab my hand to let me know that you're there for me. Let me talk when I want to talk and let me fade into the background when that's what I need to do. Allow me to BE, with you by my side.

Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 5: The Unspoken

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

Normalizing grief is so important and that is why today I am calling upon those who feel brave enough to speak about the nitty gritty side of grief. Share something about your grief journey that you might feel is strange or not common. It might be something you do to remember your children by or maybe it is something you fear about the future.

I try not to think about it, but I know I've had the thoughts already and I know they are in my brain, but I try to shove them to the back. I fear the future. I fear that when Jon and I die, that Oscar, Bella, Tittle and Firefly will die a second death, that they truly will be forgotten. Their memory, their legacy, will either be carried on by or ended by Gus and Lucy. It's the truth of the situation, if my kids don't carry on their siblings, then no one will. And it's not fair. It's not fair to Gus and Lucy that I have this deep hope that they will include their siblings when asked, "Do you have any brothers or sisters?" or include representations of their dead siblings when asked to do family pictures for school. Gus was supposed to do a paper quilt square about himself for school. One of the parts of the square was for him to draw a picture of his family. He did such a good job on it, coming out of his room to check the colors of what we were all wearing so he could get his picture right. And all I could do when he showed it to me was cry because there were only 4 people in the picture and not 8. I told him that I understood if he didn't include Oscar, Bella, Tittle and Firefly, but it made me sad they weren't in the picture, but that it was completely his choice to include them or not. Gus and, when the time comes, Lucy should not be subjected to having to carry their siblings, but how can I be okay with their choice if they don't? I don't want Gus and Lucy to feel as if they HAVE to include them. So, along with the fear of Oscar, Bella, Tittle and Firefly dying a second death, I have fears about how to balance their inclusion so that Gus and Lucy want to include their siblings, but don't feel forced to do so.

Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 4: Support Circles

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

Have you felt supported in this journey of grief and healing? Maybe it is a friend, family member or organization that has been there for you. Share how they have helped you and let them know how grateful you are.

It goes without saying that the Bereaved Parents of Madison support group was exactly what I needed when Jon and I started going. But, I want to point out one person in particular who really touched me, especially early on, in her support of my grief. She would let me talk. She would ask me questions, not to judge how I was grieving, but to understand why I was doing what I was doing. She remembers my kids, has made donations in their memory, has attended the remembrance ceremony the year we invited her, babysat Gus for us so Jon and I could attend one year. She is okay with me when I'm sad or crying and doesn't try to get me to stop .She just lets me do what I do with my grief and accepts that it is part of me. So, thank you, my sister Heather.

Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 3: What it felt like

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

In honour of this month of awareness today we give the outside world some insight into what it is like to be a bereaved parent by sharing what a certain experience that you had during your grief journey. This can be a positive or negative (or both) experience .Some experiences that you could share about are what it felt like to hear the words "There is no heartbeat" or maybe you had an experience where someone did something very special in memory of your children. Pick a moment and share how it made you feel.


Oscar and Bella: Finding out gender
We had told the nurse that we wanted them to clean up both babies and bring them back into the room after they were both born and cleaned up. We had asked to find out gender, but were told it might not be definitive at their gestational age. I remember the nurse walking in with a tiny basket and announcing we had a boy and a girl, and that it was very evident. I remember feeling so grateful. So grateful that we knew, that we were able to use the names we had chosen for our kids. Jon and I had worked so hard on coming up with four names (two boy and two girl) and it was quite a chore. Once we had the names chosen our nickname for the babies became BORC, signifying the primary and secondary girl and boy names (Bella, Oscar, Rose and Clark). To be able to give our kids their names, knowing that we would not be able to give them anything else in their lives, I am truly grateful for.

Tittle: The ultrasound
I had some spotting over the weekend, and it had changed from the spotting that has happened a few days prior. I wanted to go in for an ultrasound. Since I was released from our fertility clinic, and had already had my nurse appointment with the high-risk clinic, I called them right away on Monday morning. I left a message for the nurse and anxiously awaited a call back. When the nurse, the nurse in charge of the bereavement program at the hospital, called back and told me that a doctor (the fellow that provided my care for Oscar and Bella and that I did not like) didn't think I needed to come in because "an ultrasound wouldn't give any useful information" I was completely and utterly shocked. I began crying and responded with something about finding out if I was miscarrying or not. I was so angry, hurt and upset. This hospital, these staff members, knew my history. It was the same clinic that cared for me during Oscar's and Bella's pregnancy and delivery. They knew how scared we were of another loss, and to say we couldn't come in for an ultrasound to check on the babies and explore the bleeding was just a slap in the face. I lost trust in the entire hospital. That trust was eventually earned back, after a very frank meeting, but there there are still two specific people, one nurse and one doctor, that I don't trust as far as I could throw them.

Firefly: Telling Gus we weren't pregnant anymore
We told Gus right away that we were pregnant. He had been with us at some of the fertility appointments, so was somewhat aware of what was going on. I don't remember how long after we knew Firefly was gone that we told Gus, within a couple weeks? I don't know. It was awful, not for Gus, but for me to tell Gus we weren't pregnant anymore. I couldn't do it with the lights on, I didn't want him to see how crushed I was. I was putting him to bed, and as per usual routine, we said our goodnights, I turned the lamp off and was going to rub his back, when I asked him if he remembered that we told him there was a baby growing inside Mama. He said yes. I told him that the baby died, that the baby went to be with Oscar, Bella and Tittle. I wanted Gus to know why I was sad, why Daddy was sad and why I was sometimes crying. I just felt so much weight on me, that Gus already had 3 dead siblings, and now there was another one. Gus asked some questions, I answered them the best I could and tried to do my best. I then asked him, "Do you think the baby was a boy or a girl?" He said a girl. To this day, I love that he was involved in choosing if Firefly was a boy or girl, a brother or sister. There was never, and will never, be a way to find out for certain, but it made me feel like I wasn't just making things up, trying to fill in the holes that Firefly left behind.

Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 2: Who They Are

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

Share about your beautiful children today. Who are they? When were they born? How long did you have them for? What is their name? Share as much or as little as you feel comfortable with.

I have four children I'm missing. Oscar, Bella, Tittle and Firefly. Oscar and Bella were born and died on July 30, 2009, at 17w6d gestation. Each lived for 10 minutes before their hearts stopped. Tittle's death was confirmed January 25, 2010, at 9w2d gestation. Firefly's death was confirmed on June 10, 2013, at 4w4d gestation. Oscar and Bella would be 7 and in 2nd grade. Tittle would be 6 and in 1st grade. Firefly would be 3 and starting 4K next fall.

Capture Your Grief 2016-Day 1: Sunrise Dedication

This post is part of Carly Marie's Capture Your Grief.

Let us celebrate the beginning of this healing month by waking up early to watch the sunrise wherever we are in the world. Step outside into the fresh air and take some time to breathe the sunrise in. Watch all the colours of your world transform before your eyes. Spend some time reflecting  upon what you want your intention for this month to be. Maybe even come up with a word for your intention so that you can write it down and revisit it each day. If there is no visible sunrise in your part of the world because of the weather, that is okay, this is life and mother nature. All that matters is that you take the time out of your day to be with us all i spirit and make space for a new beginning.

I don't know what my intention for this month is. To reconnect with my kids who aren't here, I suppose. With Gus and Lucy here, and being a SAHM, my life is filled with what IS here, and it sometimes feels like the four that aren't are being left out.

No beautiful sky today. Cloudy and drizzly.

Unexpected Trigger

I was triggered in a new way during my exercise class last night. We were working on the instructed exercise, and when we were finished the instructor said, "I've never seen such determination. You're ding great!" Then, at the end of class, he praised us again for our determination and work during class and that we should give two other people in class high fives.

While holding my plank (his first comment), it just struck me how invisible emotional determination is. I doubt he's ever seen the determination of a bereaved parent hold it together at work, the store or a family gathering to not break down in sobs. I doubt he's ever seen teh determination of a bereaved parent to try to create non-sad memories on a child's birth or death day. I doubt he's ever seen the determination of a bereaved parent wake up each and every day and live a life with pieces of a heart missing. I take it back, he has seen it, he just doesn't know he's seen it.

So, to all my fellow bereaved parents who are determined every day to figure out how to live this life, I give you high fives. I give you hugs. I say: You made it another day. Great job.

It's been 3 months

Yes, it has been three months since my last post. I feel bad guilty that I have not been making time for me, but when you move, have a traveling husband, birthdays to plan for and school starting, I guess that doesn't leave room for me time, though it should.