Today is Infant Loss Remembrance Day.
Today my facebook newsfeed was filled up with posts from mamas and daddies, aunts and uncles and grandparents who had to say goodbye to their babies too soon.
Today I remembered my own darling girl, gone too soon for my liking, but forever in my heart
Today I give a silent nod to you, all you mothers and fathers with wounds of your own, holes in your heart from missing your babies
I nod to you, new parents, still freshly grieving your loss. The hurt never goes away, but it does change, and it gets easier to deal with. You are not alone.
I nod to you, you seasoned veteran. Maybe your baby would be a teenager now, or perhaps an adult. Your wound is no longer fresh and gaping, but it is still noticeable, still there. Your loss still matters.
I nod to you, those who have lost more than one baby. Their lives mattered, and have forever changed who you are.
I nod to you parents and family members and friends of lost potential and babies of all kinds because your loss matters, and your story matters.
Do you hear me? Your story matters
Your story of loss, whatever that looks like, matters
And tonight I light my candle in remembrance of all our babies.
We stand together
So tell me, dear friend, what's your story?
If you're feeling brave, maybe comment below with the name of your sweet one and how long it's been since they left this earth
And regardless of whether or not you say a word, know I am standing with you tonight, and honoring your sweet babe(s)
Their lives matter
And so does yours
Wednesday 15 October 2014
Sunday 5 October 2014
2 years out and I have a few things to say
I haven't written in a while
Because life is busy. I spent the summer traveling. I returned to the place where my sweet daughter's ashes are scattered, and I had a sense of peace knowing that she is always a part of me and I do not have to frantically work to remember her.
This knowledge has been following me lately
Sometimes she arrives as I am hunched over at the supper table
Sometimes her quiet voice speaks to me as I am running late for my morning class
Or in the silent hours of my work day right before closing, when everything is still and my heart is full
And there are days when I can go almost all day without actively thinking and remembering. As I crawl into bed at night, I sink into the soft embrace of remembering my sweet baby. But the pain doesn't sting like it used to, not always. More often than not it is a soft, gentle ache, a remembering of what should have been but isn't.
She was never mine to keep
She was always going to journey home
Her second birthday came and went, and it's been almost a month now since that day.
I can scarcely believe that my baby would be 2. If she had lived I imagine a birthday cake with pink frosting and presents. I wonder how many words she would know, if she would be fearless or timid.
I guess more than anything I want to write here to remember.
I wanted to write here again because my life is changing, and I'm not the same broken new mama I was 2 years ago, who had lost everything
Yes, I still miss my girl. I miss the life I could have had.
But I think 2 years, for me, has brought a sense of understanding. She had to go, for reasons I'll never be able to understand. Her brief life forever shaped me, as a person and a mother. She is always a part of me, and because of her I am able to experience this life more fully and deeply.
I feel like I don't have to write it out anymore, have to repeat my grief and make it known. It's something small, something I hold close to me. It's personal and beautiful and mine.
So I may still come to this corner of the woods every once in a while, to write and reflect and connect with you other baby loss mama's and daddies.
I may also spend my time going on spontaneous adventures and working the closing shift and taking pictures and writing poetry, which is ok too
Either way, I nod my head to you, as you sit over there in your grief and I stand here in mine.
Life has a funny way of changing when you least expect it. The thing you once thought was impossible has happened.
My heart is more full then I ever thought possible on that day 2 years ago when my baby died
And even still, there is a tiny piece missing, the size of her
I am just learning to cover that hole with so much love, to make the aching just a little easier
Because life is busy. I spent the summer traveling. I returned to the place where my sweet daughter's ashes are scattered, and I had a sense of peace knowing that she is always a part of me and I do not have to frantically work to remember her.
This knowledge has been following me lately
Sometimes she arrives as I am hunched over at the supper table
Sometimes her quiet voice speaks to me as I am running late for my morning class
Or in the silent hours of my work day right before closing, when everything is still and my heart is full
And there are days when I can go almost all day without actively thinking and remembering. As I crawl into bed at night, I sink into the soft embrace of remembering my sweet baby. But the pain doesn't sting like it used to, not always. More often than not it is a soft, gentle ache, a remembering of what should have been but isn't.
She was never mine to keep
She was always going to journey home
Her second birthday came and went, and it's been almost a month now since that day.
I can scarcely believe that my baby would be 2. If she had lived I imagine a birthday cake with pink frosting and presents. I wonder how many words she would know, if she would be fearless or timid.
I guess more than anything I want to write here to remember.
I wanted to write here again because my life is changing, and I'm not the same broken new mama I was 2 years ago, who had lost everything
Yes, I still miss my girl. I miss the life I could have had.
But I think 2 years, for me, has brought a sense of understanding. She had to go, for reasons I'll never be able to understand. Her brief life forever shaped me, as a person and a mother. She is always a part of me, and because of her I am able to experience this life more fully and deeply.
I feel like I don't have to write it out anymore, have to repeat my grief and make it known. It's something small, something I hold close to me. It's personal and beautiful and mine.
So I may still come to this corner of the woods every once in a while, to write and reflect and connect with you other baby loss mama's and daddies.
I may also spend my time going on spontaneous adventures and working the closing shift and taking pictures and writing poetry, which is ok too
Either way, I nod my head to you, as you sit over there in your grief and I stand here in mine.
Life has a funny way of changing when you least expect it. The thing you once thought was impossible has happened.
My heart is more full then I ever thought possible on that day 2 years ago when my baby died
And even still, there is a tiny piece missing, the size of her
I am just learning to cover that hole with so much love, to make the aching just a little easier
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