Time Can be Tricky (part 3)

July 30, 2011 at 11:58 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, silver lining | 4 Comments
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I have written about time in this post and this one, and I am once again questioning how it can possibly be August in 2 days.  August is filled with bittersweet birthdays and anniversaries.  It comes every year.  I know it is right after July but somehow this year it snuck up on me.  I feel like summer just began and snap it is almost August. 

It will be ok.  We will get through this time of year just like we have in the past.  There are just ups and downs.  I will try to focus on the good days but I know there will be hard days ahead. 

“Do not pity the dead, Harry. Pity the living. . . Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter

Thanks to the twins

July 28, 2011 at 10:42 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, parents, SIDS, twins | 14 Comments
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Thanks to the twins I have to get up every morning.  After Jake died, there were days I did not see the point in getting out of bed. 

Four months after Jake’s death, Evan and I spoke to a neighbor who had 2 older boys and a 3 month old baby girl who died.  As Evan and I spoke to the parents about the death of their daughter, the 2 little boys were running around us.

As we walked away from their house I thought about how I could cry all day and go on long walks.  I thought how much harder it must be for them to have to get up every day and take care of 2 other children while grieving for another.  And, if I am honest with myself I envied that they had other children at home as we walked back to our empty house.

The birth of the twins did not make me forget Jake but my life became much busier.  My grief for Jake became a part of me and helped me to (hopefully) be a better mother to the twins.

The morning after Sawyer died our house was not empty.  The twins were home waiting for us to take care of them.  I cannot compare Sawyer’s death and Jake’s death at all.  However, after Sawyer died I had to get myself together and take care of the twins.  I cried as I changed their diapers, fed them and put them to bed but I did it.

The twins have no idea how grateful I am they were born and are alive.  I tell them all the time how much I love them and how lucky I am to be their mom but I do not have the words to express how important they are to me.  I hope they do not feel the weight of my world on their little legs.

Happy Birthday!!

 

Anytime, Anywhere

July 26, 2011 at 11:10 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, parents | 6 Comments
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One of the main reasons I started to write this blog was my hope to help others with their difficult journeys.  I have already written that I do not have magic words of wisdom to heal the pain of bereaved parents.  I came across a letter written by a pediatric nurse which was published by Ann Landers.  I found it helpful so I thought I would pass it along. . .

An Open Letter to Bereaved Parents

I won’t say, “I know how you feel” — because I don’t. I’ve lost parents, grandparents, aunts, uncles and friends, but I’ve never lost a child. So how can I say I know how you feel?

I won’t say, “You’ll get over it” — because you never will. Life will, however, have to go on. The washing, cooking, cleaning, the common routine. The chores will take your mind off your loved one, but the hurt will still be there.

I won’t say, “Your other children will be a comfort to you” — because they may not be. Many mothers I’ve talked to say that after they have lost a child, they easily lose their temper with their remaining children. Some even feel resentful that they’re alive and healthy, when the other child is not.

I won’t say,“Never mind, you’re young enough to have another baby” — because that won’t help. A new baby cannot replace the one you’ve lost. A new baby will fill your hours, keep you busy, give you sleepless nights. But it will never replace the one you’ve lost.

Your may hear all these platitudes from your friends and relatives. They think they are helping. They don’t know what else to say. You will find out who your true friends are at this time. Many will avoid you because they can’t face you. Others will talk about the weather, the holidays and the school concert but never about your child. Never about how you are coping.

So what will I say?

I will say, “I’m here. I care. Anytime. Anywhere.” I’ll cry with you if need be. I’ll talk about your loved one. We’ll laugh about the good memories. I won’t mind how long you grieve. I won’t tell you to pull yourself together.

No, I don’t know how you feel — but with sharing, perhaps I will learn a little of what you are going through. And maybe you will feel comfortable with me and find your burden eased. Try me.
Written by Linda Sawley, pediatric nurse; published by Ann Landers

Not an Unhappy Birthday

June 6, 2011 at 11:14 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mother, silver lining, traditions | 4 Comments
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“Don’t cry because it is over.  Smile because it happened.”  Dr. Seuss

Today would have been my mother-in-law’s birthday.

Last year at this time the whole family was celebrating her birthday at the beach.  This year is a very different story.  I do not believe that there are any rules in this area.  So, I have made up my own.  On Jake’s and Sawyer’s birthdays I light a candle.   I want to celebrate their birth and their life.

A few other ideas about celebrating a deceased loved one’s birthday are the following:

  • Write the person a letter
  • Visit the cemetery
  • Release balloons
  • Plant a tree in their honor
  • Make a donation in their name
  • Tell stories/look at pictures
  • Whatever brings you any comfort (no matter how slight it might be)

The world is a better place because Jake, Sawyer and my mother-in-law were in it.  Happy Birthday Shelley.

Happily Ever After and Hope

June 2, 2011 at 11:11 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, silver lining, twins | 5 Comments
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Thank you so much for all the extremely kind and wise comments on my last post.  I did not mean to sound more out of sorts than usual.  Nothing significant has changed.  Jake has still been dead for 5 years and 9 months.  Sawyer has still been dead for 18 months.  I have many good things in my life – for which I am very grateful and happy.  I just always believed my life would have a “happily ever after” ending which did not include burying 2 children.

Now I need to adjust my expectations.  I have done this before and I am sure that I will again.  For now I am going to try to be like Jimmy Buffett and “. . . live happily ever after, every now and then.”

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Sawyer’s Story (part 16): Becoming a Stalker

May 10, 2011 at 11:08 am | Posted in Death, Grief | 3 Comments
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We had missed the first call from the medical examiner.  She had left a message.  I called back.  I had missed her for the day.  I called again the next day.   And the next.  The Tuesday after Sawyer died I spoke to one of the two pathologists who had performed Sawyer’s autopsy.  I spoke to Dr. R.  She told me the preliminary findings and explained that it would be a few weeks before all the test results were back. 

Dr. R. proceeded to tell me that Sawyer had a coarctation of his aorta.  She explained that this is a narrowing of the aorta.  She gave me the measurements.   I asked frantically if there was some way that we could have detected this.  Did we miss a symptom or a sign?  Could we have prevented it?  If it was a heart defect than that would mean that it was not a virus or something else that I could have let Sawyer be exposed to.

After hanging up the phone with Dr. R. Evan called our pediatrician.  He told him the preliminary results.  Our pediatrician explained to us that the measurements of the narrowing in Sawyer’s aorta were small but Sawyer and his heart were small.  I was now wishing that I could understand more of these medical terms.  More than once when Jake was in the NICU I cursed myself for going to law school instead of medical school

I tried to call Dr. R. back.  She was not in her office.  I left a message.  She did not call back the next day so, I called again.  And again.  I contemplated how many times a day I could call her.  I decided to keep calling but just leave messages once a day.  Two painfully long weeks went by.  I began to think about going to the medical examiner’s office in person. 

I asked the receptionist what she thought would be good times to call.  I called at the times she suggested.  I called at other times.  I jumped every time our phone rang hoping it would be her.

“Grief turns out to be a place none of us know until we reach it. We anticipate (we know) that someone close to us could die, but we do not look beyond the few days or weeks that immediately follow such an imagined death. We misconstrue the nature of even those few days or weeks. We might expect if the death is sudden to feel shock. We do not expect this shock to be obliterative, dislocating to both body and mind. . .” —  Joan Didion (The Year of Magical Thinking)

Mixed Up Mother’s Day

May 8, 2011 at 10:20 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mother, traditions, twins | 7 Comments
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The definition of a mother is “a woman who has, conceives, gives birth to, or raises a child.”

I am so lucky that I woke up this morning to our two happy twins saying “Happy Mother’s Day!” to me.   I am also so fortunate and grateful that I was able to call my mother to wish her a happy Mother’s Day.  I know that there are people whose mothers, grandmothers and/or children have died.  I know that this day can be challenging on many levels.

As I have written about before, I often silently tell myself to “remember the past, hope for the future but live in the present.”  No matter how many times I repeat this saying I cannot help but to think about past Mother’s Days.  .  .

Mother’s Day 2005 – I was pregnant with Jake.  We spent the day with my mom and my grandmother.  My brother, sister-in-law and our 10 month old nephew had the whole family over to their house.  We had not been for the nuchal screening test yet.  I was blissfully ignorant and happy.

Mother’s Day 2006 –  I was in a no (wo)man’s land of mothers.  I was a mother with no child to care for and raise.  Jake had been dead for less than a year.   Evan and I went to the cemetery.  We planned Jake’s unveiling and hoped for the possibility that Jake would one day have a brother or a sister. 

Mother’s Day 2007 – I was pregnant with the twins.  I still felt like I was living in a no (wo)man’s land of motherhood.  Jake had been gone for nearly 2 years.  We went to the cemetery.  We had gone for an OB appointment the Friday before Mother’s Day.  Our OB, who was one of the few people who met Jake, said to me at the end of the appointment that I should be really happy because I was now going to have my first official Mother’s Day.  I still remember how those words cut through me like a knife.

Mother’s Day 2008 – The twins were 10 months old.  According to anyone’s definition I was now a mother.  Jake had been dead for almost 3 years.  I was happily exhausted.  We visited Jake at the cemetery and spent the day with the twins.

Mother’s Day 2009 – I was pregnant with Sawyer.  The twins would be 2 at the end of July.  Jake would have been 4 that August.  We visited Jake at the cemetery and spent the day with the twins.

Mother’s Day 2010 – Sawyer had been dead 4 1/2 months.  The twins were almost 3.  Jake would have been 5.  We visited Jake and Sawyer at the cemetery.  I cried most of the day and tried to play with the twins.

Today we went to the cemetery.  One of the twins left a toy for her brothers.  She said she was leaving the toy to make Jake and Sawyer happy.  As I sit here and write I think she makes me happy.  So do all three of her brothers.

The Unveiling

April 26, 2011 at 6:40 am | Posted in Death, Grief, traditions | 5 Comments
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Since ancient times, it has been the Jewish custom to mark the grave with a stone. After Rachel died, “Jacob erected a monument on Rachel’s grave” (Genesis 35:20). The marker/monument serves to identify the grave so relatives will find it when they visit, honor the memory of the deceased, and identify a place of burial.

It is also the Jewish custom not to place a headstone at the time of burial.  Instead an unveiling is the formal dedication of the headstone. The unveiling usually takes place 12 months after the funeral as a way to mark the end of the formal mourning period. However, the unveiling may take place any time after the first 30 days after the funeral.

June, 2006.  We had an unveiling for Jake 10 months after the funeral.  We made this decision in part because the Rabbi who presided at Jake’s funeral was moving back to California.  Evan and I both wanted the same Rabbi to preside over Jake’s unveiling.  So, Evan agonized over what to write on the headstone before ordering it.  He picked out the font and the border.  I was numb.  My mind did not seem to have the ability to think of anything to write on Jake’s headstone.  Evan did it all and then showed it to me.  We  finalized it and placed the order. 

We knew the headstone would come in a week or 2 before the ceremony was scheduled to take place.  I thought for some reason we would get a call to let us know it had arrived.  There was not a call.  I was still going almost every day to the cemetery.  Evan went with me sometimes and other times I went alone.  One day, we walked up the hill to Jake’s grave and there it was – his headstone.  It was covered with a sheer cloth.  The pit in my stomach which had been there for the past 9 months grew bigger.  We read the headstone over and over.  The dates were wrong.  The font was wrong.

Evan called the cemetery’s office and explained the mistakes.  They assured us that it would be corrected immediately. 

Our families arrived in town for the ceremony.  The day before the unveiling Evan and his mom went to the cemetery.  The sheer cloth was over the headstone.  They read it carefully – JACK.  Evan was beyond furious.  He and his mom went to the office.  The original wrong headstone was still there.  It at least had the right name so it was put back in for Jake’s unveiling.

I do not remember much about the ceremony.  I remember it was hot.  Our family and close friends were there.  Our 1-year-old niece and nephew were also with us and waddling around the cemetery. 

Today, 2011.  It is 16 months since Sawyer died.  In a few days it will be 16 months since his funeral.  We have not ordered a headstone.  We have no plans for an unveiling. Neither of us seem to have the ability to think of what to write on another headstone. I hope to write a post before the end of this year to tell you about Sawyer’s unveiling. . .

Why I Write

April 20, 2011 at 11:46 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, silver lining | 7 Comments
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I wrote on the About  page that I began this blog to hopefully assist others on their journeys and to continue the purpose of Jake and Sawyer’s lives.  Now that I have been writing for some time my purpose has become a little more clear.

Not many people met Sawyer and even fewer met Jake.  I feel like in writing about our two baby boys  more people are able to “meet” them.  I never want them to be forgotten.  I do not have to speak about them all the time.  I do not feel like I am keeping a wound open by writing about them.  Rather, I want to share their stories.  I want the twins to know their brothers.  I do not want to forget the details.

I am still not so clear on some of the other purposes I have for writing.  Maybe one day I will start a non-profit.  I have great admiration for bereaved parents who are very active in the March of Dimes and for these parents:

Friends of Maddie
Hailey’s Hope Foundation
Simon’s Fund
Cora’s Hopes and Dreams

Maybe one of the twins will grow up to be a real doctor.  Maybe one will find a cure for the cause of Jake and/or Sawyer’s death. 

Or maybe someone will read this blog and find something that will make their life some how easier.   If nothing else I am going to keep writing to help myself.  Sawyer and Jake are dead.  I am alive and I must keep on living.

In three words I can sum up everything I’ve learned about life.  It goes on.  ~Robert Frost

Sawyer’s Story (part 14): Seeing Sawyer

March 29, 2011 at 11:20 pm | Posted in Death, funeral, Grief, mourning | 3 Comments
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All I wanted to do was see Sawyer again and hold him.  Somehow I thought none of this would be true if I saw him.  He would not really be dead if I held him and talked to him. 

Me & Sawyer

Evan and I made calls to the funeral home and the cemetery.  Both the people who helped us with Jake’s funeral arrangements were still there.  We made appointments to plan another funeral.  I just wanted to know when we could see Sawyer.  His body had been taken to the medical examiner’s office.  After the autopsy he would be brought to the funeral home. 

We went to the funeral home.   Evan and I sat in the same room we had been in 4 years earlier. We had the meeting about the casket, the service and all the other arrangements.  It was not a long meeting.  Just like with Jake there was no choice of casket.  There is only one size casket for babies. 

The meeting was over and Sawyer had not arrived.  We were told that we would not be able to see him till the next day. 

We thought of you with love today,
but that is nothing new.
We thought about you yesterday,
and the day before that, too.
We think of you in silence,
We often say your name,
But all we have is memories
and your picture in a frame.
Your memory is our keepsake,
with which we’ll never part.
God has you in his keeping,
We have you in our hearts.

We shed tears for what might have been,
a million times we’ve cried.
If love alone could have saved you,
you never would have died.
In life we loved you dearly,
in death we  love you still,
In our hearts you hold a place
no one could ever fill.
It broke our hearts to lose you,
but you didn’t go alone,
For part of us went with you. 
                – Author Unknown

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