Yahrzeit
December 15, 2010 at 4:44 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning, traditions | 13 CommentsTags: child loss, death, grief, Sawyer
As I wrote in this post, I really appreciate most of the Jewish mourning customs. And for the most part I am on board with observing the Yahrzeit, a time of remembering the dead by reciting the Kaddish, lighting a 24-hour candle, and remembering the person who has died. The Yahrzeit falls annually on the Hebrew date of the deceased relative’s death according to the Jewish calendar as opposed to the secular calendar.
My only issue with observing Sawyer’s yahrzeit (not counting the fact that I cannot spell the word) is that according to the Jewish calendar Sawyer’s yahrzeit is tomorrow. And, like most Jewish holidays it begins at sunset the night before and lasts for 24 hours. Tonight we will light a candle and say a prayer for our sweet baby boy.
We will say kaddish, a mourner’s prayer. Anita Diamant writes in her book Saying Kaddish, that “Kaddish reminds mourners of their obligation both to dream of a world of peace and to build it — without delay.” I think this means that I should continue to repeat to myself the phrase I have already mentioned in an earlier post. “Remember the past, hope for the future but live in the present.” And thanks to my very wise and close friend I have a new quote from the movie Kung Fu Panda:
“There is a saying: yesterday is history, tomorrow is a mystery, but today is a gift. That is why it is called the “present.” ”
No promises that I can do this but I will try not to dwell on how different our lives were a year ago. I will try hard not think about the secular anniversary of Sawyer’s death because it is not today. I will try to stay focused on today’s gift.
Exhaustion
December 12, 2010 at 11:44 am | Posted in Grief, mourning, twins | 2 CommentsTags: child loss, grief, life after loss, twins
At the beginning of December last year a series of unrelated events began to happen at our house. First, one of the twins had a crazy reaction to his H1N1 booster. It was like there was a big red ring around his arm. I took him to our pediatrician (and friend). We got a referral to an allergist.
Second, Sawyer continued to have congestion. We were told when he was released from the NICU that he still had extra fluid and that he might have some congestion. So, we tried not to worry about it too much. One set of my in-laws came to visit and meet Mr. Sawyer that first week of December, 2009. Evan took Sawyer to the pediatrician at the end of that week. The pediatrician said that Sawyer was congested but it was very normal for a newborn to have extra fluid or possibly a cold. We had been putting saline drops in his nose a few times a day and that seemed to clear up the congestion. The pediatrician said to continue the saline and Sawyer would be fine.
Third, was the croup. The twin without the reaction to the H1N1 shot started to cough like a seal. I had never heard of croup but quickly found out about it when I took her to the pediatrician. She had to have breathing treatments but did not have to be hospitalized. The twins, who had been sleeping through the night (for the most part) for over a year, were now up quite a bit.
Sawyer was over 8 lbs. and he would go at least 3 hours between feedings. However, between the feedings, the twins and life in general exhaustion began to set in. I knew that lack of sleep was common with a newborn. I also believed that we would find some balance in our lives which would involve more sleep.
As I wrote about in this post, time can be tricky. Someone told me the following:
Nights with a baby can be long but the days go by very quickly.
We had no idea just how quickly our days with Sawyer would go. Despite being tired, our days with Sawyer were much brighter and I am so very grateful for every one of them.
Life with Sawyer
December 8, 2010 at 11:38 pm | Posted in silver lining, twins | 8 CommentsTags: child loss, grief, life after loss, newborn
Once Sawyer was home from the hospital the twins were fascinated him. Meanwhile, Evan and I tried to figure out how to manage life with a newborn and 2 1/2-year-old twins. 
The moment Sawyer cried one of them would run to get his pacifier. The twins would always make sure that he was covered with at least a blanket if not other things. . .
A very wise and close friend advised me and Evan that at our wedding we should stop every once in a while and just enjoy the moment. I thought our wedding would go by very quickly and it did. I did not think that our time with Sawyer would be so quick. I wish I had stopped to just enjoy more moments with Sawyer.
Awkward Appointments & Awesome Acting
December 4, 2010 at 4:44 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, mourning | 6 CommentsTags: child loss, death, grief, life after loss
I was cast in one of the lead roles in my 6th grade play, The Taming of the Shrew. Andrew Schulz had to kiss me on stage but that is different story. My acting career pretty much began and ended right there in 1982 in my elementary school all-purpose room. Until I became a bereaved parent. In 2005, I was cast in the role of a mother with a newborn son who died. In 2009, I was cast for the role once again.
William Shakespeare wrote, “all the world’s a stage.” This is so true in the life of a bereaved parent. I will be out to dinner or talking to someone on the phone and they will say “you are doing really great.” I will try to remember what exactly I said or did to give such a good impression. And, I think to myself what a good actress I am.
Then there are other times that I seem to forget my “I am doing really great” lines. For example, I went to the dentist the other day. I have not been to the dentist since the week before Sawyer was born. I have gone to the same dentist for over 10 years and I don’t mind going there. I knew they would ask “how is the baby?” We did not send out birth or death announcement for either Sawyer or Jake. I could have avoided the whole thing and switched dentists (I did switch hair salons for this very reason).
I chose to stay with the same dentist and play my part as the bereaved mother. However, my “I am doing great” lines had all been forgotten. I am pretty forgetful these days so I should not be surprised. Instead, I cried. I cried and explained that our perfect baby boy had died. Luckily (or unluckily depending how you look at it), during a dental cleaning there is only so much crying and talking you can do.
After crying through my dentist appointment I was happy to get out of there. As I drove away I realized this was the first time in months that I had spoken about Sawyer for so long. Now that I think about it maybe the title of this blog works both ways – it could also be awesome appointments and awkward acting.
Thanksgiving
November 25, 2010 at 10:04 pm | Posted in Death, silver lining | 10 CommentsTags: child loss, gratitude
Last Thanksgiving we had just brought Sawyer home (I will go back and finish writing his story, I promise). This Thanksgiving is bittersweet. I suppose every day is bittersweet but holidays and anniversaries can be harder.
I am so very thankful for family and friends who have stood by us during the best and worst of times of our lives. I am certain that I would not be able to get through these days alone.
I am thankful for our silly twins and their father.
I am very thankful for the time that we did have with Jake and Sawyer. However, there has always been more – I have had a feeling of gratitude that I have not been able to articulate since Jake passed away. It is very hard to be grateful that your son (or now in our case sons) have died. The feeling that I want to describe is that I have been so thankful that Jake and Sawyer never knew the hardships which life can bring. I would give anything to have had them experience more of life than they did. I was not successful with making that bargain. Instead, I find comfort and I am thankful that all they ever knew in their too short lives was love.
Sawyer’s Story
November 21, 2010 at 9:36 am | Posted in NICU, parents, pregnancy | 4 CommentsTags: child loss, grief
Notes:
1. Thank you for the birthday wishes for Sawyer and for thinking of us. It means more than I can express in words.
2. I am not sure I will be able to write all of Sawyer’s story but I will try. I had hoped to write in chronological order but as I already mentioned in this post – that plan has changed.
I had high risk pregnancies with Jake and the twins. Once you are high risk you seem to stay that way. So, like the first two pregnancies we went to OB and perinatologist appointments. However, unlike the first two pregnancies, this time the doctors all said the same thing. “Everything looks perfect.” The appointments were shorter because the baby was always doing great and within normal ranges. We had many ultrasounds all of which showed our perfect baby.
The c-section date was set at 37 1/2 weeks. It was a bit early to reduce the risk of going into labor. As I mentioned in this post, I had a slight vertical incision and a horizontal incision during Jake’s c-section. Once you have a vertical incision doctors don’t like you to go into labor (because of the possibility of your uterus rupturing).
I did go into early labor at the end of October. We went to the emergency room. I was given shots of Turbutiline to slow the contractions down. We spent the night at the hospital. In the morning I was released and given Turbutiline pills to keep the contractions under control. Everyone assured us that this was very common. It seemed to work. I just felt like I had 18 cups of coffee while I took those pills. It is not a feeling I was very fond of but I desperately did not want a premature birth (or a visit to the NICU).
November 16 arrived and I was still pregnant! We went that morning for a scheduled amniocentesis to doublecheck that the baby’s lungs were fully developed. Later that afternoon the results came back that the baby’s lungs looked great.
My parents were taking care of the twins while we were in the hospital. I had never been away from them for that long. At the suggestion of our therapist ( who we had been seeing since Jake) I wrote them each notes for every night I would be gone. Evan also taped me reading stories to play them at bed time. I was packed and cleaned the house. It was all so very different from the chaos of the two previous emergency c-sections. All was going along perfectly as we hoped and planned.
Happy Birthday
November 17, 2010 at 7:18 am | Posted in Grief | 17 CommentsTags: child loss, death, grief
Today would have been Sawyer’s first birthday. Or, more accurately it is his first birthday but he is not here to sing to and hug. I have so many unanswered questions.
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Would he have blue or brown eyes?
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What would he look like now?
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Would he have been walking?
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What would have been his first word?
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Would he throw his cake on the floor like his brother? Or, would he dive right into it like his sister?
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Why did Sawyer have to leave us so soon?
I will never know. These and so many other questions will remain unanswered.
However, I do know that I will always love and miss him.
Sawyer, somehow I hope you know how much you are loved and missed.
Happy Birthday sweet baby boy.
- Sawyer
P.S. I do hope one day the results from the Mayo clinic study will help me to better understand at least medically why Sawyer died.
A Different Kind of Babysitter
August 30, 2010 at 10:50 pm | Posted in funeral, traditions | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, death, grief, mom
The doctors asked if we wanted an autopsy of Jake’s body. Our first question was if there could be anything determined from the autopsy which would further explain Jake’s death. The answer was no. Our second question was would anything from an autopsy benefit other babies or medical research. Another no. Jake had been through so much. We did not want him to go through anything else. So our answer was no autopsy. (Years later I was heartbroken to learn that parents are not always given the option to decline an autopsy for their child – but that story is for a later post. . .)
We left the hospital several hours later. Again, I did not want to leave without Jake. Realistically, I knew that he was no longer there – just his 2 lb. 14 oz. body. I was preoccupied with where he would be taken. I did not want Jake to be alone. He had never been alone. Jake was inside of me for 26 weeks. Once he was born he was surrounded by numerous doctors and nurses. Before we left we were assured that he would not be alone and that Jake’s body would be brought to the funeral home that afternoon.
At 11 am we went to the funeral home. We discussed arrangements and picked out a casket. Turns out there is only one casket Jake’s size. So once again, we did not have to make a decision – Jake made it for us. I asked and Jake’s body was not there yet.
Next we had a 1 pm appointment at the cemetery. We were shown an area called Baby Land. It is the section of the cemetery for babies and young children. It just felt wrong for us. We were taken to the other side of the cemetery on a small hill. It was so peaceful and pretty. Evan and I knew this was where we wanted Jake to be buried.
We finalized the arrangements. Again, I asked where Jake was and if I could go see him. I know this sounds morbid but I just could not bear the thought of him being alone – even if it was just his body. We were told that he was at the funeral home and we were allowed to go see him.
Matt, our contact at the funeral home, met with us again. He told us about Shomerim.
“Shomerim are watchers or guardians of the soul. Jewish tradition requires that the deceased not be left alone prior to burial. “Shomers” and “Shomeretts” therefore sit at the funeral home in close proximity to the deceased, reading psalms and assisting them in making the transition from life to death. This activity is considered holy.”
I felt myself breathe again. Kevin, the shomerim, sat with Jake and read psalms to him. Jake was not alone.
August 27th
August 27, 2010 at 9:14 am | Posted in NICU | 12 CommentsTags: child loss, death, grief
When we got to the NICU I knew that there was not going to be a miracle for Jake. The ventilator and the medications were no longer helping. Jake had made the decision for us. We did not have to be the ones to decide to take him off the ventilator. This was just one of the many gifts Jake gave to us.
Bridget, the NICU nurse, said that I could hold him. I had never held him before. I knew this would be my first and last day to hold Jake.
Holding Jake
Evan was also able to hold him.
Evan Holding Jake
At 6:14 am Jake’s heroic struggle ended. Jake gave it everything he had, and we were and still are so proud of him. Sometimes the challenges you face in life are simply too much.
The NICU nurses helped us to give him a bath and to dress him. He had never been outside and they suggested we spend some time with him on the terrace outside the NICU.
Family picture
We were very lucky to have been chosen by Jake to be his parents.
I miss Jake today and every day. Some days are just tougher.
Advice for moms & dads
August 13, 2010 at 2:00 pm | Posted in Uncategorized | 4 CommentsTags: child loss, death, grief
I was not planning to write a post today but I seem to be compelled to write anyway. As I have learned time and time again plans can be made but they frequently change. My husband and I went to a memorial service this morning. It was for an 8 month old baby girl of a friend and co-worker.
There are so many things that moms give each other advice about: diapers, bottle feeding, breast feeding, potty training, this list could go on and on but you get the point. There is no advice to give to a mother or father who have just lost their child.
Having buried 2 children, I felt like I should be able to say some words of wisdom. Although the circumstances were different the result was the same – our children are no longer with us. Maybe writing this blog will help me figure out something magic to say to other bereaved parents or maybe not. I am just going to keep writing and see what happens.
As I stood in line to pay my respects to the parents I realized I have nothing helpful to say. There are no steps to follow, there are no other options to try or videos to watch. It is just there – enormous amounts of sorrow and grief. Lost hopes and dreams for your child and your family.
So, when it was my turn to speak to the parents I just gave them a hug.
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