Dinner Conversations & Divorce
January 30, 2013 at 10:52 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, life lessons, normal? | 7 CommentsTags: after death?, child loss, death, death of a baby, divorce, grandparents, Jake, new not so normal, perspective, Sawyer, twins, unexplainable
At dinner the other night the twins started to discuss the fact that some of their classmates live with only one of their parents. Evan and I tried to explain that sometimes parents do not always live in the same house. This did not get us very far.
The twins responded in unison, “Why???”
“Why would a child’s parents not live in the same house.”
Good question. Okay, I tried another angle.
I responded, “You know that daddy’s parents did not live in the same house? Remember we visit Mom Mom and Pop Pop’s house and Grandmom and Grandpop’s house?”
Quizzical looks from both of them let me know that they were processing this information. After a moment, he looked at me and said, “Well now that Mom Mom is dead does she live with Grandpop?”
Evan and I looked at each other. Neither of us had a response to give to our son. Luckily, his sister answered. “No silly! Mom Mom lives with Sawyer, Jake and Grandpoppy!”
Stuff
January 16, 2013 at 9:16 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life after loss, normal? | 6 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, grandparents, grief, Jake, life after loss, new not so normal, Sawyer
Very often “get rid of clutter” is at the top of my to do list. Okay, sometimes I put it at the top of Evan’s to do list. I am overwhelmed by the piles of paper, toys, laundry, and stuff in general which seems to fill up the world. However, there is some clutter that I just cannot part with. The hospital bracelets from Jake’s tiny ankles, the smallest “sunglasses” which covered his sensitive eyes, every little thing that touched his body came home with us.
Sawyer had a lot more stuff. Right after he died we packed up, donated or got rid of most of the things he never wore or used. The things he did wear and use stayed on a shelf. Year after year Sawyer’s stuff did not move. Except for the sock.
I recently went on a business trip and when I got home Sawyer’s stuff was not on the shelf. I backed out of the room and went in again. It was still not there. I yelled for Evan. He calmly explained that he moved it. Just like that. He moved it to the same place where Jake’s stuff is kept.
Logically, I know that it is all just stuff but these are the only things that we will ever have that were Jake’s and Sawyer’s. I thought about these things as I threw out garbage bag after garbage bag of stuff as I helped to clean out my grandfather’s home. Why did I find it so easy, even therapeutic, to throw away his things?
I decided that my lifetime of memories with my grandfather made all the material things not necessary. I do not need stuff to remember him.
On the other hand, I had such a short time with Jake and Sawyer. There are not so many memories or stories to tell. So, I will hold onto the stuff that I can.
Tips for NICU Parents
January 12, 2013 at 10:52 pm | Posted in Grief, hospital, NICU, normal?, silver lining | 12 CommentsTags: bereavement training, Jake, NICU, Nurses, parents of premature babies, Sawyer, tips
This past week I, along with 2 other mothers, spoke to a group of nurses as part of their bereavement training. The nurses all work at Northside, the hospital where we had all 4 of our children.
This is the 3rd time I have been on the parent panel as part of this course. The purpose of parents speaking is so that we can give feedback about our experiences at the hospital and help the nurses to better understand the needs of the families. I listened to the other women recount their bittersweet experiences. I spoke about mine.
Along with helping the nurses understand the parent’s perspective, we also spoke about ideas for families with babies in the NICU. The other 2 mothers had several suggestions that Evan and I had not thought of while Jake was in the NICU. No one knows ahead of time that they will be a NICU parent. And, NICU parents do not usually have time to google suggestions for being a parent to a very premature baby. However, I am going to share this list just in case you or someone you know finds themselves with a child in the NICU.
- Take pictures. Use your phone, a disposable camera or whatever kind of camera is available to you. I am so thankful that the nurses encouraged us to take pictures.
- Video tape. If it is allowed make video tapes of your baby. I wish Evan and I had video of Jake.
- Pen and journal. Ask the nurses to write something down about your baby during their shift.
- Small stuffed animals. Carry them around so they pick up your scent. Place them in your babies’ isolette.
- Memory metal. Use the metal to make a finger or foot print of your baby.
- Scrapbook. The hospital gave us everything that touched Jake’s body. Evan and I keep all of Jake’s things. We have been working on a special cabinet to keep it all together but it would be great if we could put together a scrapbook as well.
Some hospitals have organizations to help and support NICU parents. The group at Northside is called Parents Partnered for Preemies. Do you have any other ideas to add to this list?
Jake’s stuffed animals
Stuck
November 26, 2012 at 10:48 pm | Posted in Death, Grief, life lessons, normal? | 17 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, grief, Jake, miscarriage, new not so normal, perspective, quotes, Sad, Sawyer, thoughts
Thank you Brooke from by the brooke for writing about the book, Tiny Beautiful Things: Advice on Love and Life from Dear Sugar. The book 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.
One letter is from a bereaved mother, Stuck. Stuck’s baby died. I want to share the wisdom that Sugar so powerfully offers. The following is part of the advice that Sugar wrote to her:
Dear Stuck,
I’m so sorry that your baby girl died. So terribly sorry. I can feel your suffering vibrating right through my computer screen. This is to be expected. It is as it should be. Though we live in a time and place and culture that tries to tell us otherwise, suffering is what happens when truly horrible things happen to us.
Don’t listen to those people who suggest you should be “over” your daughter’s death by now. The people who squawk the loudest about such things have almost never had to get over anything. Or at least not anything that was genuinely mind-fuckingly, soul-crushingly life altering. Some of those people believe they are being helpful by minimizing your pain. Others are scared of the intensity of your loss and so they use their words to push your grief away. Many of those people love you and are worthy of your love, but they are not the people who will be helpful to you when it comes to healing the pain of your daughter’s death.
They live on Planet Earth. You live on Planet My Baby Died.
It seems to me that you feel like you’re all alone there. You aren’t. There are women reading this right now who have tears in their eyes. There are women who have spent their days chanting daughter, daughter or son, son silently to themselves. Women who have been privately tormented about the things they did or didn’t do that they fear caused the death of their babies. You need to find those women. They’re your tribe.
I know because I’ve lived on a few planets that aren’t Planet Earth myself […]
This is how you get unstuck, Stuck. You reach. Not so you can walk away from the daughter you loved, but so you can live the life that is yours — the one that includes the sad loss of your daughter, but is not arrested by it. The one that eventually leads you to a place in which you not only grieve her, but also feel lucky to have had the privilege of loving her. That place of true healing is a fierce place. It’s a giant place. It’s a place of monstrous beauty and endless dark and glimmering light. And you have to work really, really, really hard to get there, but you can do it. […]
You will never stop loving your daughter. You will never forget her. You will always know her name. But she will always be dead. Nobody can intervene and make that right and nobody will. Nobody can take it back with silence or push it away with words. Nobody will protect you from your suffering. You can’t cry it away or eat it away or starve it away or walk it away or punch it away or even therapy it away. It’s just there, and you have to survive it. You have to endure it. You have to live through it and love it and move on and be better for it and run as far as you can in the direction of your best and happiest dreams across the bridge that was built by your own desire to heal. Therapists and friends and other people who live on Planet My Baby Died can help you along the way, but the healing–the genuine healing, the actual real deal down-on-your-knees-in-the-mud-change–is entirely and absolutely up to you. […]
Yours,
Sugar
I have been living on Planet My Baby Died for 7 years. I do not know if there is a separate Planet for when a second child dies. If so, I have been on that Planet for almost 3 years. Either way, here I am trying to live.
Remembering Miracles
November 16, 2012 at 10:02 am | Posted in Grief, life lessons, normal?, silver lining | 3 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, gratitude, Jake, kindness, new not so normal, perspective, remembering miracles, Sawyer, ways to honor the memory of your child
Thank you Samantha Murphy for remembering Jake and Sawyer. Samantha recently started writing, Remembering Miracles. She writes to ” keep the memories alive of the children who are now walking as angels in Heaven.” Her blog is “to honor them, and to share their stories, so that they will live on forever, and never be forgotten. But although they are no longer physically here, their spirits live on, and will never fade as they continue to fight for their cause. So come on. Join the fights. Join the remembrance. What have you got to lose?”
I am honored that she wrote about Sawyer. Remember Sawyer.
And, she wrote about Jake. Remember Jake.
Samantha you are so very kind, thoughtful and wise beyond your years. Thank you again for not letting the memories fade.
Lost Girl?
November 2, 2012 at 10:22 pm | Posted in after death?, Grief, life after loss, normal? | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, Jake, new not so normal, post traumatic stress disorder, Sawyer, thoughts, twins, unexplainable
In my younger (pre-children days) I loved to travel. My parents took my brother and me on all kinds of exciting adventures. I was an exchange student in Finland for a summer. I spent a semester in Madrid. My first jobs at times required extensive travel. I was always happy to explore a new city.
In August of 2005, I held Jake,our first son, as he took his last breaths and a part of me died with him. My love for travel was buried with Jake. I could no longer be alone in my house let alone a hotel room in a far away city. Even driving alone in my car was excruciatingly painful for me.
The twins’ birth brought me happiness that I did not think I could/would ever experience again. However, that part of me that died with Jake was still gone. Travel now seemed out of the question. I did not want to let the twins out of my sight. I was no longer alone in the house or the car.
When Sawyer died so unexpectedly my ability to be alone vanished again. The 3 hours twice a week when the twins were in preschool seemed like an eternity to me. For awhile I could not even shower unless other people were in the house.
I do not think I will ever be the person that I was before Jake and Sawyer died. At times I do wonder if that person who loved to travel and see the world is still out there somewhere. . .
A Walk to Remember
October 14, 2012 at 10:32 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss, Love, normal? | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, grief, Jake, miscarriage, new not so normal, October 15, Sawyer, twins, Walk to Remember
Every day 13 babies will be lost to SIDS and other sudden, unexpected infant deaths.
One horrible day in December 2009 our baby, Sawyer, was one of those 13. We remember Jake and Sawyer every day but today Evan and I participated in our 7th Walk to Remember.
The first year it was just the two of us. Jake had died a few months before the walk. Evan and I could barely talk about our child’s death let alone listen to the other sad stories parents were sharing about their losses.
Today we had the twins with us and we were there for Jake and Sawyer.
I can now talk about Jake and Sawyer. I listen to others as they tell about their sons and daughters. I still wish none of us had to live in a world without our child/children.
Tomorrow is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day. As part of the day, everyone is invited to light a candle at 7 pm in all time zones, all over the world. The idea is that if everyone lights a candle at 7 pm and keeps is burning for at least 1 hour, there will be a continuous wave of light.
Better
October 8, 2012 at 11:50 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons, Love, normal? | 9 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, grandparents, gratitude, hospice, Jake, life after loss, Sawyer
I have written before how I am so very lucky for my grandfather. I know that he will not live forever. It was never the plan for him to outlive me. I know that is not what he would want. It defies the circle of life that Evan and I have outlived 2 of our children. Jake and Sawyer were supposed to bury us.
My grandfather is now in hospice. Although life is going in the natural order – it is still hard. I do not want to see my grandfather in pain. I want to make it easier. I do not know what to do except what I have always done – love him unconditionally. And, appreciate how much better the world and my life is because of him.
The Balancing Act
October 4, 2012 at 11:14 pm | Posted in Grief, life lessons, normal?, venting | 5 CommentsTags: dark days, death of a baby, Jake, new not so normal, perspective, quotes, Sawyer, unexplainable
Areas of my life which I wish I could find a balance:
1. Answering the question, “how many children do you have?”
The twins started a new school this year. There are new teachers. New parents.
The twins started preschool the week after Sawyer died. We did not plan it that way but it is the way it worked out. It was a small preschool. I had already answered the questions. I had cried the tears in the parking lot.
Sawyer has been gone over 2 years so I can usually answer the question without the tears. The balance I am trying to find is answering the question without the pity that always seem to come along with it. It is hard to explain but I do not want people to feel sorry for us. I just want to be able to answer the question and talk about Jake and Sawyer.
2. “Being so busy I cannot think” coping technique
In 2005, Jake had died. I was still alive and forced to figure out how to live in a world without him. I searched and searched for steps to follow. A guide. Anything to help me get through the excruciatingly painful moments. I realized that being busy was the way to go. I desperately filled every possible moment.
In 2009 after Sawyer died I continued to utilize my “being so busy I cannot think” coping technique. I am at a point where I need to rethink just how busy I keep myself.
I do not know how to find the balance. There might not be a balance. Or, maybe there is and I will find it one day. Till then I will try to take Dr. Seuss’ advice and “step with care and great tact.”
Home is where the heart is. . .
September 30, 2012 at 11:02 pm | Posted in after death?, Cemetery, Grief, normal? | 7 CommentsTags: child loss, dark days, death of a baby, Jake, new not so normal, parenthood, Sawyer, thoughts, twins, unexplainable
I think that is how the saying goes. . .but what if your heart has been smashed into a thousand pieces? Where is your home then? I want my home to include all of my children. Jake never left the hospital. Sawyer did live in our home but not for long enough.
Our next door neighbors are selling their house. There has been a lot of talk about what people want in a house. A garage. A basement. X number of bedrooms and bathrooms. The top of my list is actually none of those options. My biggest concern is how far the house is from the cemetery where Jake and Sawyer are buried. We currently live 15 minutes away.
I was speaking to another mom at baseball practice and she mentioned that her neighborhood is at the edge of the cemetery. My mind filled with thoughts of what it would be like to be able to walk over to see Jake and Sawyer. Would I go more often? Would I ever go anywhere without going to the cemetery first? It is so hard to drive by it and not stop.
Today we went and picked out 4 mini pumpkins. One for each of the twins. One for Jake. One for Sawyer. I was thinking that I would bring them to the cemetery as I have done in past years. The twins had another idea. They insisted on bringing the pumpkins to Jake and Sawyer’s room. Jake never had a room in our current house. He was born and died 2 years before we moved into our house. Sawyer did have a room. It was the room next to the twins’ room. And, that is where they brought the 2 mini pumpkins.
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