Monday, October 15, 2012

Six Months

I haven't had a lot to say here lately. I'm not exactly sure when it happened... sometime between the last few weeks... but I'm starting to get people telling me to move on. (We're still on this... that's old news!) I've received letters in the mail (yes - handwritten, "you need help," letters) and messages on FB. Weird. I guess I am only allowed to miss and be sad for my son for a little while. Then I need to shut up and move on to other things. Needless to say, I've been hurt by people who tend to say "but I love you so much and so does God" at the end of their very ignorant and hurtful notes. It leaves me hating the world and wishing them horrible tragedy just so they will get it. (And also realizing why some people can't stand "Christians".) So I don't write. I keep it to myself. I know how much I love and miss him so I'm a safe place to keep my words.

I love you, Samuel! I miss you so very much! I will never, ever stop loving or missing you!

Then, I get a card from my aunt Vicky. It's a loving and beautiful and encouraging card. It reminds me that some people DO get it and will love and miss him right along with me. I remember there are some real Christians out there. So I decide to write again.

I'm not really sure how else to say this: If you think I should be moving on, if you don't get why I'm sad and that I will always miss him, this place is not for you. Please leave now. And never return.

If you are here to love and support me, if you want to try to understand what it's like for me (without judgement), you are welcome here.

Yesterday was a very emotional day for me. Firstly, it was Samuel's six-month birthday. I can't even believe it's been six months. How on earth have I made it this long without him? I don't want to keep doing this. I just want to be done missing him. I want to have him with me. I hate that this is my life. I miss him endlessly and deeply. Sometimes I still can't believe this really happened.

Secondly, we held the event for Pregnancy and Infant Loss. It was beautiful. But also hurtful. Of the 14 families who signed up to attend, no one showed up. It such a terrible feeling then when you put tons of time, work and money into an event to show love to others, to have them reply "yes, I'm coming and I can't wait!" and then find yourself alone at the welcome table, surrounded by gifts and flowers and programs all created for those very people who never came. It's defeating. There were so many days when I was tired and sad and just wanted to cancel the whole thing. But I kept working because I wanted it to be a special day for families missing their loves. I wanted to gather with them and people who love and miss Samuel to honor their lives. I guess it's too much to ask of people. I'm hurt. (I realize things happen, but, really, everyone!?)

It ended up being a very small, but very beautiful night. We were surrounded by lights and candles. The poems and words and music were beautiful. I hope Samuel was able to see our love for him. My friend Erin, who helped me organize the event, and her family were able to remember their precious babies (Hannah and Charlie) too. Also my aunt Lea, who lost two of her own, was able to share and remember them with us. My parents and siblings (who did SO MUCH WORK to get ready) were also there. (Thank you for your hard work. I know Samuel would have loved to see it.) We lit candles for our babies and also read the names of, and lit candles for, the other babies we know who are gone far too soon. We sent Samuel a white "happy birthday love!" balloon.

It was a hard day. I got home, I looked at all the unused gift bags and craft items and I cried. It's kind of a representation of my life. So much work and love put into something that almost no one appreciates.

I cried.

For him and for me.

I just really, really miss him. All I wanted was to keep him. All I got was this mess.

Mama misses you, love! Are you getting so big? Do you sit up now and smile so big and laugh? My heart aches for you little guy! I hope you get lots of hugs and kisses every day my sweet boy. I can't wait to do it myself.

All our love, Mama and Daddy <3


Tonight is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. We will light a candle at 7pm for our precious boy, and for all those babies so loved and missed. Will you join us?


  1. I just read this from the MOPS website, which I thought you'd appreciate. I'm here. I don't think you will ever get "over" this. I have no expectation of that. I haven't walked through this but I know myself and know that if I do it will forever alter me and that I would never be the same or "over" it. One day at a time, my friend, and sometimes one minute or hour.

    The Journey of Healing
    Grieving a stillbirth, late-term miscarriage or newborn death
    By Susan Besze Wallace

    After holding my lifeless daughter through the night, it was time to give her tiny body to the nurse. The sun was coming up, but I was sure there would never be a darker moment. Until I looked outside my hospital-room window a while later and saw cars going through a fast-food drive-thru. Life continued, despite my heart, mind and body feeling crippled, forever changed, by the trauma of my baby’s death at birth. It was the first sign that grieving would be a highly personal journey. But one no one has to take alone.

    If you have recently experienced pre- or post-natal loss, you likely feel lost. Many women have walked before you and have encouragement to offer, as well as some concrete ideas on healing your broken heart.

    * Feel your pain. When the tears start to gather, give yourself permission to be sad. Some women said they actually gave themselves a time each day to wallow, cry, express anger – and that made them less likely to feel like they were fighting back emotion the rest of the day.
    * Exorcise the what-ifs. You can drive yourself crazy with questions and doubt. Ask your doctor to walk you through the medical facts of your situation. Write them down so you don’t get sidetracked by misguided guilt. Accepting the unacceptable is part of the grief process.
    * Take care. Your body needs rest and fluids not just for the physical trauma you’ve experienced, but to mitigate the effects of stress on your body. Shower daily. Taking walks to help your body and mind. Get out. A change of scenery from your own home or even town can help you gain some

  2. * Lower your expectations of others. “My family saw my loss at 26 weeks as ‘just’a miscarriage,” Jacque remembers. “You will hear comments that will drive you crazy, but people don’t know what to say.” Indeed, you will learn a lot about your family and friends during this time. Some will rally, others will step back or decide themselves when they think you should be “better.” Don’t judge their reactions. Accept what support is offered and realize that most have not, thankfully, experienced your pain.
    * Consider the comfort of rituals. Some women scrapbook memories of their child. Others release balloons on birthdays. A Christmas ornament, a charm, a painting – memorials of all sizes are meaningful ways to honor those we love.
    * Beware of extremes. You may want to get pregnant again as soon as possible. Or you may be petrified. Giving yourself time to heal physically and emotionally will strengthen you for future pregnancies. I hated hearing this, but it’s true.
    * Nurture your marriage. Men and women express and experience grief differently. It’s crucial to stay connected during this hard time through sharing and communicating.
    * Consider counseling. A grief group, church leader or individual counselor might help you and your husband move forward. Each time you tell your story it becomes a part of you, not just something that happened to you. Being with others experiencing the same journey can be heartening.
    * Expect ups and downs. Crying spontaneously after tearless days doesn’t mean you are moving backwards. That’s the process. Most people bounce between stages of denial, anger, bargaining, depression and acceptance. It’s not a straight climb to “better,” but more a series of rolling hills over time that will lead to acceptance.

    Be gentle with yourself. You are a changed and changing woman. “I remember at our grief group, our leader said we would become different people because of this,” said Angela, who son died shortly after being born full-term. “I resisted that. I was happy with who and where I was. But now I see how true this is. Loss is something one will never get ‘over.’ It must be incorporated into your life because it will forever be a big part of who you are.”

  3. I'm just glad that there are so many books and so many people who do get it to remind you that the world is caring. I pray for you, and understand your emptiness. You'll never stop missing him... people need to stop telling you to. Glad you're writing again! I'm here for you!


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