Second Star
February 18, 2014 at 11:14 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life lessons, Love, Sawyer, Time | 5 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, international star registry, new not so normal, siblings, stars, ways to honor the memory of your child
When Jake died the hospital gave us a packet of information to take home. I remember trying to read it through my tears and being unable to make out most of the words. When I got to the page on “Ways to Honor Your Child” I got a tissue, wiped my eyes and read. One of the ways was to name a star. Before I knew it I was on the phone buying a star for Jake:
Jake’s Star
The star date is his birthday and it is in the constellation of Leo (Jake’s zodiac sign). We have the star certificate with all of Jake’s other belongings. I think before now the only other person I told that I bought a star was Evan. Buying the star made me feel a bit better for the moment. It was something I could do for Jake. Funny how time changes some things. . .
After Sawyer died I did not buy a star. The thought of buying another star did not make me feel better. Recently, I came across Jake’s star certificate and decided that I did want a star for Sawyer after all.
I tried to order it online and then finally called. I wanted Sawyer’s star date to be his birthday, just like Jake’s. The star registry only goes back 2 years – which meant 2012, 2013 or this year. There is no 2009 option. I chose this year – for Sawyer’s 5th birthday.
Sibling rivalry is an issue at times in our house with the twins. I will never know if Sawyer would be unhappy that Jake had a star and he did not but the second star bought to avoid any worries. It made me feel a bit better and it was something I could do for Sawyer.
Unfrozen
February 14, 2014 at 10:54 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, normal?, Sawyer, twins | 5 CommentsTags: Atlanta snow, baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, Frozen, ice, new not so normal, perspective
“Everything is Awesome” has replaced “Let it Go” and “Do You Want to Build a Snowman“at our house. The snow and ice are gone. We were really lucky and never lost power. However, we did follow the advice of the robocall from our mayor and stay home. The twins watched I am not sure how many hours of television but I know it was a lot. It does not bother me the way I thought it would (before being a parent when I had all these big ideas about what kind of parent I would be. . .). Originally, I was going to be one of those parents that did not let their kids watch too much TV but Sawyer’s death quickly changed that. It seemed much better for the twins to watch Elmo than to watch their mom crying endlessly. So, on went the TV.
We did make it out of the house yesterday for some sledding.
Today it was almost 60 degrees in Atlanta. Everything melted, we turned off the TV and went outside.
Happy Valentines Day from our house to yours!
Unsubscribed & Unprepared
February 10, 2014 at 10:14 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, Love | 12 CommentsTags: Atlanta + Snow = Disaster, Atlanta snow, baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, hope, new not so normal, thoughts, twins
The week before Sawyer was born Evan and I realized that we would have 2 1/2-year-old twins at home during the winter with a newborn. We had not planned to send them to preschool until they were 3.
The twins plus winter plus a newborn at home. All of a sudden 2 1/2 seemed like the perfect preschool age. I called around and there were not many preschools with 2 open spots. We were super lucky and found a school for the twins. The school started the first week of January – Sawyer had died the week before and I did not want to let the twins out of my sight (but that is a different story. . . ).
I did give my name and information to a few other schools. I get emails from them now and then. I have successfully unsubscribed from most but there is one that I cannot get off the list. I usually just delete the emails without opening/reading them but for some reason I read this one. This week my 4-year-old and I were invited to Mommy & Me at 10 am on Wednesday.
There is no unsubscribe button!! What is the etiquette here? Writing an email that my 4-year-old and I will not be there because he is dead does not seem appropriate. Luckily, I got the email today that the Mommy & Me will most likely be cancelled “due to inclement weather”.
Is Atlanta unprepared?! Nope. Not this time. It was 50 degrees and clear today but the Atlanta forecast is for snow. So, school for the twins is cancelled tomorrow. And, Wednesday. The twins and I will be home with plenty of time for me delete those preschool emails.
Do you want to build a snowman? Come to Atlanta.
January 30, 2014 at 5:30 pm | Posted in life lessons, Love | 8 CommentsTags: Atlanta + Snow = Disaster, Atlanta snow, baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, family, gratitude, new not so normal, perspective, Snowjam 2014
You might have heard about or are living through Atlanta’s snowstorm. Tuesday Evan and I both left work around 1 pm. After 30 minutes I had not left the parking lot. My stress level did not subside at all when finally I did leave the parking lot, because cars were not moving. . . not even a little bit. I quickly realized that I was not going to make it to pick up the twins from school at 2:30. I called Evan. My call did not go through. Bummer. Luckily, Evan called me and said he was in traffic but moving. He would drive towards school too. He was able to make it near the school within 2 hours. He parked and walked the rest of the way to get the twins.
By 4 pm Evan and the twins were all safely home. I for the most part stopped stressing about my never-ending commute. I had almost a full tank of gas, no kids or dogs in the car with me and I was moving (sometimes). My college days had prepared me for the no bathroom situation. I finally made it home after 6 hours. A friend who could not make it to her house arrived about an hour after I got home.
We were super lucky compared to lots of others. And, our friend made it home on Wednesday with no problem!
One of the twins has been a bit sick so he was not going outside. His sister, on the other hand, wanted to play in the snow! Meanwhile, he wanted to take pictures. He took a few pictures before realizing he should move his fingers. . .:
First, she wanted to build a snowman. After all, we have listened to the Frozen sound track 47,000 times in the last month.
Next, she wanted to build another snowman.
And, then she wanted to build a whole snow family.
In case you do not recognize us let me help you:
- Evan is the tall one in the blue hat with sunglasses
- I am wearing a cool pink hat our niece gave us
- the twins are the middle-sized snow people (she is wearing a hand me down hat from our niece and he is wearing a cool Star Wars hat from our nephew)
- Buddy and Baby (our dogs) are each wearing black and white polka dots
- Sawyer is wearing the brown hat (it is another Star Wars hat from our nephew)
- Jake is in between Baby and Sawyer
School just got cancelled for Friday too. It is supposed to be in the 60’s by the weekend. So, if you are looking for us we will be the one’s at home watching our snow family melt.
Bring soup, be there & other ways to help a bereaved friend
January 26, 2014 at 9:46 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss | 6 CommentsTags: child loss, new not so normal, thoughts, tragedy
In a few different posts I have written about what people have said to Evan and I after Jake and then Sawyer‘s deaths. There seem to be endless opportunities in life to say the wrong thing. It is hard to put yourself in another person’s shoes and separate out your own feelings. We all have different experiences. We start from a variety of places. Who is to judge what is right and what is wrong? All we can do is try our best.
My mom recently sent me an article called The Art of Presence by David Brooks. It is about a family who has suffered enormous tragedy in their lives (including the death of one of their daughters). The family gives very practical advice such as:
- Be a builder. I had not read/heard this analogy before and I like it so, I am going to share:
“Firefighters drop everything and arrive at the moment of crisis. Builders are there for years and years, walking alongside as the victims live out in the world. Very few people are capable of performing both roles.”
A few other pieces of advice I have heard about but are also worth sharing (I may have also written about these before . . .):
- Do be there.
Even if you do not know what to say it does not matter. Just show up.
- Do not compare, ever.
There is no comparison contest with bereaved parents. Everyone has lost.
- Bring soup.
Love and compassion are necessities, not luxuries. Without them humanity cannot survive.
The Dali Lama
- Do not say you will get over it.
Grief changes over time but in my experience there is no “healing” from the loss of your child.
- Do not say it is all for the best or try to make sense out of it.
The death of a child is not for the best and there is no making sense of it for any parent.
Fun Friday – Sharing Smiles
January 24, 2014 at 5:22 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, Love, twins | 5 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, dark days, dogs, happy, hope, new not so normal, thoughts
I am struggling to find a happy place today. So, I thought I would try to cheer myself up by sharing some things that did bring a smile to my face this week:
- Seeds of Happiness – They are simple, small clay smiley faces. The twins have yet to give them to anyone but they do have a big time playing with them:
“Mark Borella, a sculptor, created small smiley faces from left-over lumps of clay. He gave these to his friends whose young son was dying of cancer. He told them: “I know there is nothing I can say or do to make you feel better so I thought I would bring you some smiles to help you get your smile back. ”
He called them Seeds of Happiness. And his hope is that sharing the smiles continues to grow as their customers plant Seeds around the world.
- Keeping our dogs warm in the Star Wars coats we found this week:
It is possible that Buddy and Baby are not smiling about their new coats . . .
- I recently found out that there is a Happy Movie and a Happy Movement.
The movie is all about happiness and what makes people happy. The movement “is a 28 day program that brings happiness to the center of our lives.” I need to end this post so that I can go sign up.
Happy Friday and I hope that you all have a good weekend!
Do you think the twins have been talking to ABC?
January 20, 2014 at 10:36 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief | 6 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, Grandfather, Jake, Resurrection, Sawyer, thoughts, TV shows
The other week the twins were playing pretend. They were discussing their pretend characters and how they were born, lived and then died. They both then agreed that if they truly believed in the “spirits” of the dead characters they would come back to life. There was some further discussion that if we believed in Jake, Sawyer, Mom Mom and Grandpoppy’s “spirits” then they too could come back to life. I tried to explain that life/death does not work that way (no matter how much I really want it to be different). They disagreed and I decided rationalizing with 6 year olds might not get me very far on this topic.
A few days ago, I saw a preview for the new show Resurrection on ABC. The lead in is “Imagine the impossible.” In case you have not seen the preview, the cliff notes version is that deceased people are somehow returned to their families. A boy, who died at the age of 8, is returned to his parents 30 years later.
The twins and ABC have come up with a show that does imagine the impossible. Every person who has lost a loved one has at some point hoped beyond hope that person would be magically be returned to them. So, now the big question is to watch or not to watch?
2 of ABC’s future writers?
Washing
January 14, 2014 at 5:08 pm | Posted in Cemetery, Grief, Jake, Sawyer | 4 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, Jewish customs
Every time Evan and I leave the cemetery we wash our hands with water. I know everyone washed their hands when leaving the cemetery after Jake’s funeral and then after Sawyer’s. The other day I realized I have no idea why we wash our hands, so I decided to look it up. There seem to be many different theories including the following:
- Hand washing marks “the departure from the surroundings of death and to signify a renewed attachment with life.”
- Washing hands symbolizes a “disassociation from death.”
- Some used to interpret washing hands in order to banish “evil spirits.
The explanation that I like the best is that we wash our hands to signify the “transition from departing the place of death to entering that of life; it is also an attempt mentally to leave behind the realm of the past and re-embrace the present”. At times, I have to work hard to stay in the present so the physical act of washing hands is a good reminder for me.
A resolution (not the New Years kind)
January 2, 2014 at 9:14 pm | Posted in Cemetery, Grief | 3 CommentsTags: baby loss, cemetery, child loss, death of a baby, gratitude, Jake, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, thoughts
I found out that my friend at the cemetery might have made the call to get Jake and Sawyer’s markers fixed. I saw him the other day and asked him if he had anything to do with the new markers. He would not say one way or the other, but I said thank you and I gave him a big hug just in case.
He explained to me that the granite that the markers rest on and the markers themselves are made at the same time. When Sawyer died we buried him next to Jake, but in the same full-sized plot. There were no issues with the headstone following Sawyer’s funeral because we did not have Sawyer’s marker added until 2 years later. When we did add Sawyer’s marker the granite had to be replaced to allow for the 2 markers instead of just Jake’s.
The bolts that held the markers to the granite were not an exact fit which apparently is why the markers moved and shifted. The bolts have all been replaced now. However, there is a chance that the markers will shift again because the granite and the markers were still made at different times. If the markers move again, the next fix would be to replace the entire granite and both of the markers (then the granite and both markers will be made at the same time – and should fit together without being able to shift).
Even with all of these logical solutions, I still like the idea that Jake and Sawyer are playing practical jokes on us.
Wishing you all a Happy 2014!
Sawyer’s Story: The Funeral
December 28, 2013 at 11:02 pm | Posted in funeral, Grief | 8 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, dark days, death of a baby, fathers, Funeral, post traumatic stress disorder, Sawyer
Four years ago today was Sawyer’s funeral. I still cannot believe that Evan and I have lived through 2 of our children’s funerals. Most of those days are a big blur and what I do remember was that everything seemed so surreal. I had trouble putting sentences together.
Evan, on the other hand, wrote speeches for Jake and then again 4 years later for Sawyer. I am still amazed and thankful that Evan was able to think and write clearly enough for both of us.
My brother read what Evan wrote at Jake’s funeral. Below is what Evan read at Sawyer’s funeral:
Our son Sawyer is perfect. We know all parents feel that way about their children, and they should. We feel that way about our first son Jake, our twins Fletcher and Alyssa, and about Sawyer. But it’s not just a feeling. We know it. Sawyer is and always will be perfect. He has been perfect from the first moment we met him. Yes, he was also sweet, and adorable, and soft, and cuddly, and wonderful. But above all else, he was perfect. A perfect son. A perfect little brother.
We don’t know why we only got 40 days with Sawyer. We were supposed to have 40 years or more. 40 days makes no sense, and likely never will. We don’t know why that happened, but what we do know is how much we love Sawyer. We know how much we miss him and how much are hearts ache not being able to hold him and kiss him and care for him the way we were supposed to be able to do. 40 days – even the 40 wonderful days we had with him – is not enough. Not even close.
But, we’re going to treasure every memory from those 40 days. The first moment we saw him at the hospital. The first time we each held him. The first time we fed him and changed him and swaddled him. The first time we took him home and introduced him to the twins. The first time he smiled at us (even though it was probably just gas). The first time we got to tell every one of you about him and positively beamed with pride in getting to do so. We will hold onto each of those firsts – and every other moment after them that we had with Sawyer. We’ll remember every time we just sat and stared at him and marveled at how perfect he was and how amazing it was that we could make something – someone – so perfect.
We thank you all for being here this morning to help us get through this day with your love, friendship and support. We thank you for all that so many of you have already done, your words of love and kindness, and your helping hands. And we thank you for all that you will do to help as we try to figure out how to go on without having all those “firsts” we were supposed to have with Sawyer over the days, weeks, months and years to come. We welcome you back to our house after the service today, so that we can attempt to start to thank you in person and thank you for loving Sawyer with us.
There is comfort in knowing that Sawyer’s big brother Jake will be with him now. So will Grandmother and Aunt Sophie – Sawyer’s namesake who also had to grieve for a lost son – and his other great grandparents and loved ones who passed before him. We know he’s in good hands – it’s just that they are not the hands he is supposed to be in yet. He is supposed to be in our hands. But instead, our hands shake because we can’t touch him. Our arms ache because we can’t hold him. Our hearts break because he is gone after only 40 days. But even as we cannot understand or believe any of this, we want you to know, Sawyer, that we love you. Truly, deeply, forever, we love you. And no matter what Sawyer, you are perfect. You are perfect. You are perfect.
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