October. It's infant loss awareness month. And today, October 15th specifically, is infant loss awareness day. It's a good day, because for so many, the loss of a baby is a silent pain, one that isn't talked about. In having a day like this, however sad it is, we can maybe allow others into our circle of grief, and at the same time, comfort them in theirs. For us, October is a month that we should have a birthday, but we don't. You see, we should be celebrating a first birthday this October. But we're not. And furthermore, if we were celebrating that first birthday, we wouldn't have our Mercy girl. Mercy Grace, we joke, since her middle name, Anna, means Grace. It's strange, this loss. We can't imagine life without her, but in order to have the lives we grieve, we couldn't have her. It's one or the other. If we had Baby J, who would be one this month, we couldn't have Mercy. And likewise, if we had had Baby A, who would've...
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The Baby Project: In Remembrance of the Precious Babies Gone on Before Us
If you've been around for long, you probably know about the baby our family lost in March of last year, the second baby in a row. That loss was a difficult journey , but in many ways it opened my eyes to how widespread miscarriage, stillbirth, and infant loss is. So many people around us have suffered this lost, and nearly everyone, if not every single person you'll come in contact with in your lifetime, has been impacted by the loss of a baby, whether their own or someone else's. It's not often something that you hear about though, and that's sad to me, because there's so much pain surrounding these losses, and so many could be helped in healing by hearing of others' journeys. Shortly after those two losses in our family, I came up with a way to honor and remember those babies, as well as some of the babies lost to friends and family around us. Enter what I'm calling "The Baby Project". It's a whole new product line in my Etsy shop...
On This Day - to grieve, or rejoice?
This day, Friday, May 29th, 2015, holds a lot of significance for our family. Two months ago today, we lost the littlest member of our family . Four years ago today, my aunt died in a tragic car accident. And seventeen years ago today, my oldest brother, the one who made me a big sister, was born. This week is unarguably one of the busiest weeks in the year for us. With four birthdays in the space of six days, this week is known as "birthday week" to us. In some ways, it's like Christmas broken up and spaced out over those six days. The rush and busyness, the last minute treat-making, the hurriedly wrapping gifts, and the celebrating. But in all the busyness, there is grief and reflections. Losing a sibling was/is undoubtedly one of the hardest things I've walked through . I never even met her, and yet the ache is so deep. I don't understand the why. "Why?" Was brought up a few weeks ago, when we released balloons ...
I know you don't know what to say, and that's alright
You know that I hurt, that I'm grieving. But it's awkward for you. I get that. Maybe you haven't been there, or maybe you were to young to understand or remember. You find yourself in an awkward position - you want to be a comfort, but you don't know what to do or say. I know. We've all had our turn being there, not knowing what to do or say, how to respond. Maybe you stay away, because you don't know if you would be welcome, or even if you were, what you would say. Maybe you reach out, because you have been there, and you know . Maybe you're forced into being there and you offer the best words of comfort that you know how, but it's still awkward, uncomfortable. But here's the thing - there are no perfect words. Sometimes there are no words at all. When death crosses your path, nothing else anyone can say or do will heal your broken heart. And that's okay. Yes, there are some things that comfort, and some things that sti...
Grieving This Sibling That I Never Met
I wrote this post last night, and the grief was deep. Today, right now, it is easier, for the moment. But I know that it won't always be so. Three weeks ago today, I lost my youngest sibling. Miscarried, at just nine weeks. It was a grief far greater than I could've imagined. I ached so much. Not for this baby's sake, because I knew that he or she was (is) in heaven with God, which is by far the greatest place to be, but I ache for me, for my other siblings, for our parents. There were (are) so many hurts. It hurts that I never had the chance to meet this sibling, the opportunity to cuddle and rock it as a newborn, the gift of watching it grow up. So many things I never had the chance to experience with this baby. I thought I was doing better, that I was moving on. It still hurt, yes, but not the raw grief like at the beginning. But raw grief comes again. I have yet to be able to talk to anyone other than my family about t...