The End of the School Year & Everything in Between
May 20, 2014 at 10:00 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life lessons, normal?, Sawyer, twins | 4 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, end of school year, first grade, gratitude, grief, life after loss, new not so normal, parenthood, twins
This Friday is the last day of school for the twins! It does not seem that long ago that they started 1st grade. I try to enjoy the moments with the twins. Moments I know that I will never have with Jake or Sawyer. The Mother’s Day teas, the musical performances, the recitals, field days and the end of school year parties. However, I find myself in a panic this time of year. There is so much happening – all at the exact same time.
“Did I forget to dress them in the right color for their musical?”
“Did we remember to bring in the teacher appreciation card?”
“Did we make the teacher appreciation card?”
“How did we forget her glasses again this morning?”
I feel guilty about not enjoying ever single moment (all the ones that I will miss with Jake and Sawyer). I want the twins to be healthy, happy and grow up.
This week I looked around at some of the other parents – I saw the dazed looks on their faces. They are all in this end of the school year craziness too. I am not sure they are enjoying all of this end of the school year madness either. I want to appreciate all the moments I have with the twins. I think I will have to expand my definition of appreciation to include the happy, the sad, the chaotic and everything in between.
Hoping for Milk
April 8, 2014 at 9:48 am | Posted in after death?, Grief, life after loss, Love | 8 CommentsTags: Benjamin Milk, brain cancer, child loss, dark days, grief, hope, hospice, new not so normal
Some days it is harder than others to find hope.
After Jake was born at 26 weeks with hydrops, I hoped he would be among the 30% of babies who survive these enormous obstacles. There was no miracle.
The horrible night we brought Sawyer to the emergency room, I hoped for the miracle that it would all be an awful mistake. There was no miracle.
I hoped for a miracle that would cure the cancer that Evan’s mom had or at least give her back the life she had. There was no miracle.
On Friday a close family friend lost his valiant battle with brain cancer. In case I have not mentioned it before I hate cancer!! His family along with all of us who loved him hoped he would win this battle. He did not.
When there is no more hope for our loved ones to remain with us we often shift to hoping to prevent that anyone else should have to go through this horrible journey. So, his family has formed a team, Everybody Needs Milk, in the Race for Hope DC. I hope that one day soon a cure for cancer is found.
This is a telephone pole at the end of my neighborhood running route. It is a reminder to me that there is hope everywhere (just sometimes we have to look for it harder than others).
Pathology is No Place for Politics
March 24, 2014 at 8:18 pm | Posted in Grief, venting | 6 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, grief, life after loss, pathology, perspective, politics, thoughts, unexplainable
I read an article recently about a young mother losing a child that presented a whole new take on a sad situation.
The death of any child is heart breaking, and a horrible situation no parent should have to suffer. In this case, a poor 16-year-old in Mississippi lost her baby at 36 weeks to what was most likely the frighteningly all too common situation of where the umbilical cord gets tangled around the baby and causes death. The teenager had to deliver her stillborn child and figure out how to deal with such a sad and horrid situation that would leave any mom filled with guilt (even though there was nothing she could have done to prevent it). It must have been even harder to be only 16 and having to deal with one of life’s greatest tragedies.
But then, for this girl, things got exponentially worse. Apparently in Mississippi at the time there was a pathologist who has quite a reputation – for being politically motivated and having an agenda. When he found evidence that the girl in question had used drugs during her pregnancy, the pathologist concluded that the drugs had led to the baby’s death. And he, along with local law enforcement (which also has an agenda to reduce women’s reproductive rights) decided to charge this 16-year-old girl with murdering her child. They alleged that her use of drugs was a “depraved heart” killing of her child.
They did all this despite the fact that no medical facts support that conclusion. They ignored the science that points to the cord as the cause of death and ignored the medical facts that show that while drug use is certainly a terrible idea for a pregnant woman, it does not cause death of the child (and not in this case).
For six years now this now 24-year-old from an impoverished background with drug issues has not only had to deal with the death of her child, she has had to deal with being accused of killing her child, of having a “depraved heart,” and with the very real fear of being tried and found guilty of murder by a Mississippi jury.
I just cannot imagine.
When Sawyer died, since his heart stopped at home, investigators questioned us in the ER. Then they followed Evan and I home from the hospital to view the scene and talk more about what happened. They quickly concluded that what ever exactly happened to Sawyer, it was biological, not something that anyone did to him and not something that could have been prevented by some action we could have taken (or not taken) at home.
We knew that, logically, but it was also helpful to hear that from those who looked into it. Further, the pediatric pathologist who examined Sawyer to try to determine the cause of death also ruled out any external causes, and ultimately focused on his heart stopping, likely due to a genetic, undiagnosed arrhythmia. (It’s still a working theory, but it’s the best any doctor can say at this point.) The pathologist was compassionate and helpful in trying to get us not to blame ourselves for Sawyer’s death. She explained things so we could understand them, and she spent extra time meeting with us, emailing with us, and even went above and beyond to help us get Sawyer’s DNA in a study at the Mayo Clinic looking for certain arrhythmias that she and some other scientists believe may account for many of the SIDS and SUIDS deaths that still occur far too often. She also happens to be quoted in the article — taking a sane, rational, scientific-supported view of the case, unlike the Mississippi pathologist out to “get” this girl.
I cannot fathom how this girl must feel having had not help and comfort from investigators and a pathologist, but blame, condemnation and being charged with “depraved heart murder.” It must be like a second sledgehammer to her own heart. First, her baby dies. That is heart-crushing on its own. Then, she is accused of killing her child and must fight for her own freedom and future. That guilt and feat must be not just heart-crushing but soul-smashing. For a sixteen-year-old girl from poverty probably few of us can truly comprehend.
I am not excusing her drug use. As a mom, protecting our children is of the utmost importance. I’d never do something that might harm my children. She made that mistake. But I cannot judge her for that, because I do not know her or her true circumstances, or why she did that.
What I do know is that science says she did not kill her child. What I also CAN understand is the depths of despair and guilt a mom faces when her child dies. No woman should go thru that. No girl should face that, let along without care and support of those around her. To blame her for her child’s death here, to prosecute her for murder, to claim to the world she has a “depraved heart,” must be causing her unimaginable pain.
I can barely make it though losing Jake and Sawyer even with being told by everyone that I did everything right, but that some things cannot be fixed or prevented. Without that love, caring and support, and in the face of accusations of killing my own child (no matter how wrong-headed, illogical, unsupported by science and politically driven they might clearly be) I don’t know how I would be able to go on.
No worries (I wish. . .)
March 16, 2014 at 9:28 pm | Posted in Grief, Sawyer, twins, why I write | 10 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, dark days, death of a baby, grief, hope, new not so normal, parenthood, perspective, thoughts
If your problem has a solution then…why worry about it? If your problem doesn’t have solution then…why worry about it? – Chinese Proverb
In theory I think this makes sense and I agree with the proverb, but I have a problem: I think that worrying is in my DNA.
Everyone at our house is feeling fine now but last week that was not the case. Evan and one of the twins were sick. It is part of life – everyone gets sick. But, I do not like it one bit! I try very hard to rely on the rational part of my brain but the irrational part of me always seems to take over. I am transported back to the days and nights before Sawyer died. Was there something going on? Was he sick in some way? What did I miss? How could he be seemingly perfect one moment and then dead the next?
I know that the twins are not Sawyer. They are bigger. They are stronger. They can tell me when something is wrong (and usually can specifically detail what is wrong too!). However, I cannot help but second guess myself. I cannot help but worry about what we could have done differently, what might have prevented Sawyer from dying that night, how we might have taken a different action or course and he would still be here with us today. I also know that even if we did miraculously figure out the cause of Sawyer’s death it would not change the fact that he is dead. Resurrection is not our reality. Of course, I cannot change that now, and of all things, I logically know I should not worry about things I cannot change. And yet, those are the things that seem to draw out my worries the most.
Another Yahrzeit
December 10, 2013 at 10:20 pm | Posted in Anniversaries, Grief, Love, Sawyer | 13 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, gratitude, grief, Jewish customs, new not so normal, yahrzeit
The word “yahrzeit” means anniversary (of a person’s death) in Yiddish. The word originated from German – Jahr, meaning year, and Zeit, meaning time.
Sawyer’s yahrzeit this year is on December 12th which means the candle should be lit the evening before (tomorrow). I have done my best to lose track of the days, in the hopes that this anniversary would not ever come. I know that time does not work that way but you can not blame a girl for trying. It has not been hard to keep busy and forget the date. I feel like the twins just started 1st grade but somehow Thanksgiving is over and despite my best efforts to stop time it is once again December.
I am extremely thankful for the time we did have with Sawyer and I still try to live in the present but I so wish I could hold him again even if is just for one more moment. . .
Strong?
November 4, 2013 at 10:44 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, Love, Sawyer | 10 CommentsTags: baby loss, birthday, child loss, death of a baby, grief, life after loss, new not so normal, thoughts
Dear Sawyer,
It is me, your mom. It is almost your birthday. And again, there will be no party. You are still gone. We have made it through 3 other birthdays without you. I know that we will make it through this one too. Thanks to your older brother, Jake, I know that we can make it through a 4th birthday without the birthday boy. In fact, I can make it through every day with out you both. I just do not want to. . .
I miss you. I love you forever.
Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar
October 14, 2013 at 10:26 pm | Posted in life lessons, Love | 5 CommentsTags: book review, child loss, grief, hope, life after loss, new not so normal, thoughts, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar
The book, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life, is a compilation of advice columns by Dear Sugar. It is written by Cheryl Strayed, who was formerly the anonymous online advice columnist, Dear Sugar. The book is a collection of letters written to Dear Sugar and her responses. Dear Sugar writes advice to questions about love, life, death and everything in between.
I previously wrote about one of Dear Sugar’s advice columns to Stuck. Stuck is a bereaved mother. Stuck’s baby died. Sugar offers some very powerful advice on how to get unstuck. In another post, in response to a letter from Living Dead Dad, Sugar wisely writes:
“I don’t know how you go on without your son, sweet pea. I only know that you do. And you have. And you will.”
“Your boy is dead, but he will continue to live within you. Your love and grief will be unending, but it will also shift in shape. There are things about your son’s life and your own that you can’t understand now. There are things you will understand in one year, and in ten years, and twenty.”
There was a time after Jake and then after Sawyer’s death that I could not concentrate long enough to finish a sentence let alone an entire book. Now, I am able to concentrate while I read, although I have to admit most of my “reading” is actually listening to books on CD in the car. I am so glad that I stumbled back upon the book Tiny Beautiful Things and listened to it in its’ entirety.
Odd but NOT Ok
September 12, 2013 at 2:26 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Love, Sawyer, venting | 12 CommentsTags: baby loss, cemetery, child loss, death of a baby, grief, missing bolts, new not so normal, unexplainable
Dream
I am drawn quietly to his grave to check on him,
Just as I’d have been drawn quietly to his crib.
I trim the grass around his marker,
And dream of trimming bangs from his forehead.
I place flowers in his vase,
And dream of placing kisses on his cheek.
I hold his memory dear to my heart,
And dream of holding him in my arms.
Author unknown
I no longer have any way to physically take care of Jake or Sawyer. The best I can do is going to the cemetery and checking on their shared plot. I know that frequenting a cemetery does not work for some but it is something that I need to do.
Over the last month both Jake and Sawyer’s nameplates have been slightly shifting. I thought maybe the bolts were loose. I shift them back and feel better. Until yesterday.
I could not even shift the plates back. And, where are the bolts?! I do not understand.
I called the cemetery office and immediately broke down into tears trying to explain to the receptionist what I was calling about. Who calls about missing bolts from not just 1 but 2 of their sons’ headstones?! She finally understood me and agreed to send out a maintenance person.
No one can explain what happened to the bolts that should be securing the nameplates to the granite. However, they are both repaired for the moment. We are going to wait and watch to see what happens. I am so not okay with this.
August, Already?
August 6, 2013 at 8:42 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, Love, Sawyer | 5 CommentsTags: 1st grade, back to school, child loss, death of a baby, gratitude, grief, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, thoughts
It is August again. This month is filled with happy days and harder days. Lots of family birthdays and anniversaries are in August as well as Jake’s birth and death days. This year there will be one less happy day. I had always looked forward to my grandfather‘s birthday at the end of the month. I knew he would not live forever but I still miss him.
I will take August like I do every day – day by day. I have made it through many Augusts without Jake and I will make it through this one as well.
“You don’t get over it, you just get through it. You don’t get by it, because you can’t get around it. It doesn’t ‘get better’; it just gets different. Everyday… Grief puts on a new face….”
― Wendy Feireisen
This year is also filled with getting ready to go back to school. The twins start 1st grade this week! We already had the Open House to meet their teachers. I did not even (outwardly) flinch when another parent asked if we had already been to the upper campus with our older child. I did not choke back tears when she said, “Oh, that is right you do not have older children.” I bit my lip and did not say a thing although she is one of the few parents at the twins’ elementary school who know that Jake (and Sawyer) ever existed.
“They’d crossed over to that continent where grieving parents lived. It looked the same as the rest of the world, but wasn’t. Colors bled pale. Music was just notes. Books no longer transported or comforted, not fully. Never again. Food was nutrition, little more. Breaths were sighs. And they knew something the rest didn’t. They knew how lucky the rest of the world was.”
― Louise Penny
I know that I am lucky too. I am lucky to be Jake, the twins and Sawyer’s mom.
Traveling with the Twins
June 30, 2013 at 9:38 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Sawyer | 6 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, grief, hope, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, signs, thoughts, travel
Most of this month we have been away. The first few weeks were work trips mixed with family and friends. The last part of the month we were away for fun. I used to travel all the time. It is hard to travel with small children but if I am honest with myself there is another reason I like to stick close to home.
I do not like to be away from the cemetery. I know that Jake and Sawyer are not really there but I still feel a need to go there. If nothing else to make sure that all is ok. I no longer go to the cemetery every day but I do not like the idea that I am not able to visit. I felt better about being away for so long because I knew that others would be there to check on them.
The trips were all good. There were some meltdowns and a taxi ride where not one but BOTH of the twins got sick. The taxi driver pulled over each time and we paid for him to get his car cleaned. . . However, we had fun. It was good to see family and friends.
I have written here and here that I do not know where exactly Jake and Sawyer are, except that they are in our hearts. No matter where we travel they come with us. There were times that the twins collected stones to bring to Jake and Sawyer. And, there were little signs that I like to believe Jake and Sawyer sent to us.
Blog at WordPress.com.
Entries and comments feeds.






