Showing posts with label grieving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label grieving. Show all posts

Tuesday, July 16, 2013

Motherhood -- with and without a baby


Life Without a Baby

You can't get anything accomplished
Your mail goes unread
Your bills go unpaid
Your meals go uncooked
Your emails pile up
You ignore phone calls
You sleep --- a lot
You sleep
You cry
You think
You mourn
You yearn
You long
You sleep
You cry
Life moves on without you
You're overwhelmed

You learn, you grow, you overcome
You gather strength from friends and family

You find joy knowing your baby will be yours one day
One glorious day
The future is unknown, but faith brings
Peace
Joy
and
Hope


Life With a Baby

You can't get anything accomplished
Your mail goes unread
Your bills go unpaid
Your meals go uncooked
Your emails pile up
You miss phone calls
You're awake --- all night
Baby sleeps
Baby cries
Baby eats
Baby sleeps
Baby cries
Baby eats
You're tired
So tired you wonder if you can do this
You're a zombie
Life moves on without you
You're overwhelmed

You learn, you grow, you overcome
You gather strength from friends and family

You find joy in the simple things
Snuggles
Smiles
Laughter
Growth
Milestones
Snuggles --- lots of snuggles
Peace
Joy
and
Happiness

Lots of Happiness

*****


I'm so grateful for both of my sons and all of the experiences their lives have brought me. 


Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Grieving Cheerfully

I feel like I was prepared in so many different ways for Luke's death. Not that you can ever really be prepared for an unexpected death of a loved one, but reflecting on things, I feel like God truly took me by the hand and lead me to do and learn certain things before Luke's death which helped me later.

Last night I was at a Relief Society class focusing on simplifying things. Many suggestions were shared for a myriad of regular activities women and moms participate in. One woman who I really admire, shared a suggestion she learned from someone else which she has tried to implement.

Laundry. What household task could be more never-ending than laundry? So the suggestion was to make doing laundry an opportunity to reflect on each family member as you sorted through each of their clothing items. Think about them -- their stage of life, things you love about them, etc. She shared how this has really helped her enjoy this mundane task.

As she shared this it brought to memory an insight I had while I was pregnant with Luke. I remember coming to the realization; my life was forever going to be filled with mundane tasks -- laundry, cleaning, cooking, etc. The words of a scripture took meaning in a new way "let us cheerfully do all things that lie in our power" (D&C 123:17). I knew my happiness was going to be in my attitude. I recall reflecting on that as I prepared for Luke to join our family.

Oh how I would have given anything to be able to be doing the mundane tasks of motherhood for that baby boy!

And then, just this morning, I realized I guess instead of cheerfully changing diapers or doing laundry I grieved cheerfully. Or rather, am grieving, cheerfully. Grief is so different for everyone, but for me I truly feel like I am able to focus on the positive things.

I will get to raise Luke one day.
Because of Christ, Luke (and all of our family members) will be resurrected one day.
Luke was so perfect that he did not need to withstand that trials and adversities of this life.
The promise of being with Luke is one more reason or incentive to keep God's commandments, so I can be with him again one day.
We have a family member who, hopefully, is looking after us and loves us more than I'm sure we even realize.

These are just some of the positive things that I truly have cheerfully been able to recognize and remember. Grief is different for everyone and even different for each person at different times. I don't expect others to handle their grief in a similar way. Nevertheless, I feel like because I keep these blessings and truths in the forefront of my mind I have been perhaps buffered  from more painful feelings associated with death and have been able to grieve just a little more cheerfully than perhaps what is normal. For that I am grateful.

Wednesday, March 28, 2012

All pregnancy loss is valid but can't be compared

The other day a friend shared a link and I ended up reading various posts on Birth Faith. I began reading her post Very Early Miscarriage. She related some experiences where she felt she was miscarrying even though she had never taken a positive pregnancy test. She communicated her frustration for the lack of sensitivity, emotional support, or acknowledgment for these losses.

I feel like anyone on the spectrum of pregnancy loss, even those that experience loss in the form on not being able to conceive, should be validated. I feel like others sometimes make comments that imply that they feel like their sorrows are not justified compared to mine because they lost their baby so early while I lost mine at full term. This "my loss is nothing compared to yours" attitude, in my opinion, isn't right.

Loss is loss. No matter if it occurs at 4 weeks or 40 weeks, it is a loss and its accompanying grief is real. I agree with the author of Gone to Soon who says, "To judge a the gravity of the loss by weeks of gestation is unfair."

I feel like so many of the emotions that may be experienced by mothers (or fathers) of loss can be similar -- sadness, questioning, heartbreak for the unrealized dreams of a future hoped for and even planned on (among many others). The feelings you experience with loss can't and shouldn't be denied and don't need to be minimized if you were earlier in your pregnancy. Nor can others who have carried their babies longer feel like their loss is greater (which I did initially) it is just different. It's not right to try to compare your grief or your loss. It is painful to each of us and the degree of pain and grief felt is determined by the individual not the weeks of gestation. 

Though the pain and feelings experienced may be similar or even the same or the circumstances regarding the loss might be similar, it is not right to even assume that you know what it's like for someone else. Everyone's experience is different and I don't think they can be compared. 

At the end of the blog post by this woman who experienced very early miscarriages,  I read the words "I have known the loss you feel." When I read those words I wanted to tell her:

"No you don't! You don't know the loss I feel. You don't know what it's like to give birth to your baby that has already died. You don't know what it's like to spend your initial post-partum recovery planning a funeral, selecting a burial site, and picking out your child's clothes for burial. You don't know what it's like to hold your baby in your arms with no life in him. You don't know what it's like to watch someone close a casket lid for you to never see your child again. You don't know what it's like to have to call your mother on the phone to tell her you're about to go deliver your baby that has died. You don't know what it's like to try to determine what you're going to say at a funeral or if you should even have a funeral. You don't know what it's like to visit the cemetery where you see your own name on a headstone because your baby is buried there. You don't know." 

As I continue to read over her words I don't think she really means, "I have known the loss you feel."  I think the point she is trying to make by saying those words is that thee feelings associated with loss are universal and can be experienced by anyone who goes through any type of loss. And I agree, full-heartedly, that the feelings of loss may be similar and are just as real at any stage in pregnancy. Yet each individuals' experiences are so different and cannot be compared. You cannot assume you know how anyone feels about their loss. So for her to just say, "I have known the loss you feel," is infuriating. Because she can't. She doesn't. Nor does anyone else. 

Only our all-knowing Father in Heaven and His Son, Jesus Christ, could make that claim. They are the only ones that truly know how I feel. They are the only ones who understand my feelings that sometimes I can't even articulate or understand. Yes, having a community of others who have experienced loss is helpful, because sometimes we can understand and relate to each other's experiences, but only a relationship with a loving Father in Heaven can allow you to be truly and completely understood. He hears prayers that aren't spoken and understands feelings not shared. He knows every detail and emotion and is intimately concerned about each of us, His children. When we chose to turn to Him and pray to Him we can learn for ourselves of His love and perfect understanding that can only come from Him.

*****
Update: I received a nice message from the author of Birth Faith. She apologized for her writing being infuriating to me and acknowledged that she doesn't know the loss that I have felt. I believe that I misconstrued her intended meaning of those words and am sorry for that; however, I can't deny the thought process that they caused me to have.

Friday, March 16, 2012

Does being pregnant make grieving easier?

Does being pregnant make grieving easier?

To this question I would answer, no.

What being pregnant does make easier is knowing what I might do with my life in the near future. It gives me a plan and a focus for continuing to prepare to be the best mother that I can be. It gives me new direction. It gives me hope that we can  have a family here on earthin this life. It gives me an undeniable sense of gratitude to the Lord for allowing what I hope and dream forto live my life as a motherto be a part of my life.

But it doesn't take away my longing for my son. It doesn't remove him from my thoughts. It doesn't take away the emptiness in my heart that waits to be filled with a relationship with my son, Luke. It doesn't push out the overwhelming love I have for my son.

My friend's mother lost one of her twins to SIDS many years ago. At the funeral someone made a thoughtless comment along the lines of "at least she still has one." How foolish to think one child would compensate for the loss of another! Like I think I've said before, children are not just one in a set of dishes that can be replaced. Each child is an individual. Each child has a place in my heart that could never be replaced by the love that I have for another one of my children.

So no, being pregnant does not change how I grieve my son's life which I will always wish could occur here and now with us, but it does give me hope for a life as a mother in the near future and there is most definitely joy in that.

Sunday, February 12, 2012

Baby Shower Thank Yous

I was given a couple wonderful baby showers when I was pregnant with Luke. I felt so blessed with the abundance of gifts that I received. I was prompt (which isn't usually like me) to send out thank you cards to the majority of the generous gift givers. I ran out of cards and needed to still write to some of my closest friends and family members. There were also a couple people whom I needed new addresses from, so their cards were not sent.

One day in August or maybe September, I finally got around to tending to all of the paper work that had piled up in our office. Amongst unpaid bills, there was paperwork about grieving from the hospital (which I glanced at and also threw into the trash), explanation of benefits (or lack thereof) from my insurance company, an application for ordering a death certificate, and beautiful sympathy cards given to us by an assortment of friends, acquaintances, family members, and even strangers. Many of these things seem like they would be difficult to sort through and deal with, but I looked at each item and dealt with it almost as if it were any normal paperwork or mail. As I continued sorting I found a couple unsent thank you cards.



The discovery of these cards sent me into an unforseen fit of tears. I grabbed the cards and shoved them deep into the garbage. I wept more for feeling ungrateful for the kindness and generosity that had previously been bestowed upon me. But how was I to send those cards now? Should I just rewrite them? Should I just write a PS that explained that I had written them before I knew that I wouldn't be bringing my baby home from the hospital? I couldn't do either, so in the garbage they remained as I knelt on the floor and wept.

Wept for guilt of ingratitude, wept for my son, wept for my aching arms that longed to have him with me. It hurt. The pain was strong, but I needed this moment. Looking back I think I hadn't cried enough yet and I think it's what I needed at the time. So I let the hot tears flow as I mourned.

I eventually managed to calm myself and continue sorting through the array of papers I'd accumulated only to discover Luke's ultrasound pictures from the day that we found out we would be having a boy. The tears came again and I didn't try to stop them from flowing.


Oh, the excitement and hope that these pictures used to hold. And now they're some of the only pictures and memories I have of my son. It didn't feel fair. It didn't feel real. How I wished I could exchange those pictures for what they used to be--anticipation and excitement of a future day, but now that dream is gone and there's no going back to that hope that they once held.

But there is still hope. Hope for a different dream. Hope for a different day. Hope that I will live my life in a way that will allow me to be worthy to live again in the presence of God, with my son and with all of my family members.

*****

“Hope is the anchor of our souls. . . . 

“Hope is trust in God’s promises, faith that if we act now, the desired blessings will be fulfilled in the future. . . 


“The unfailing source of our hope is that we are sons and daughters of God and that His Son, the Lord Jesus Christ, saved us from death”