Written in Stone
September 22, 2013 at 9:38 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Sawyer | 5 CommentsTags: cemetery, death of a baby, new not so normal, perspective
As I explained in this post, the bolts on Jake and Sawyer’s nameplates were replaced. I still do not understand what happened to the bolts. There was no construction in the area. No other recent funerals have been by their plot. I might have to add this to the long list of unknowns.
Maybe, as my very sweet cousin pointed out Jake and Sawyer are just being boys playing together and being mischievous. Or perhaps, Jake and Sawyer are just giving us other ways to take care of them. I do not know.
I do know that the grounds people found other bolts to secure the nameplates for the time being. They did explain that because these are not the original bolts they might not hold. This part I understand very well, if the nameplates move again we will have to reorder them both. If anyone is keeping count that will be the 4th nameplate for Jake and the 3rd for Sawyer.
I am okay with waiting to see what happens and I know that the saying is that “nothing is written in stone.” But ultimately, these nameplates are written in stone for Jake and Sawyer. They should be right.
9/11, The End of the World as We Know it: Anniversaries (repost again)
September 10, 2013 at 5:46 pm | Posted in Grief, life after loss | 2 CommentsTags: 9/11, anniversaries, dark days, hope, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, thoughts, tragedy, unexplainable
The tragedy of 9/11 and its’ anniversary are kinds of grief. It is of course, an enormous source of grief for all of the families and friends who lost loved ones. It is also the kind of grief in which you realize that the world as you knew it will not ever be the same.
Hurricane Katrina hit New Orleans the week that Jake passed away. A very close friend of mine took her 5-year-old son in for his check up and the pediatrician found a rare heart condition. My grandmother had died. I felt like the world was coming to an end. So, I asked the rabbi who presided at Jake’s funeral about the possibility that the world was ending. He replied with an analogy. He said that it is like when you decide you are going to buy a certain kind of car. Once you make the decision you start seeing the car every where. So, my take away from his explanation was now that I was grieving I would start to see grieving every where. . . Turns out you don’t have to look too far for grief in this world. The record 7.0-magnitude earthquake hit Haiti shortly after Sawyer died.
I know that 9/11, where close to 3,000 people died; Hurricane Katrina, where 1,500-1,700 people died; and the earthquake in Haiti, where almost 230,000 people died are tremendous losses compared to the death of two babies. But, those babies were mine. And, my world will never be the same as it was before they had died.
There is not a contest for who has the most grief. I am not trying to compare my losses to these catastrophic tragedies. There are not any winners here. In grief we have all lost. However, there is still the next day and the day after that. And one day, there is a point where we will realize that our loved ones are dead but we are still alive.
I posted the above last year at this time. On the anniversary of 9/11 and every day, my heart, prayers and thoughts go out to not only the victims but to those who they left behind in this world.
When the Walls Come Tumbling Down
August 26, 2013 at 6:14 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Love | 4 CommentsTags: baby loss, child loss, death of a baby, Elisabeth Kübler Ross', Jake, new not so normal, old house, perspective, post traumatic stress disorder, premature birth
As I wrote about here, the house where I was pregnant with Jake was sold a few months ago. We had a room for Jake in that house but he never came home to it. There was a time after Jake died that I had such anger towards that room. I wanted to renovate it, destroy it or at least move far, far away from it.
My anger was not rational but it seemed very real to me at the time. Along with denial, bargaining, depression and acceptance; anger is one of Elisabeth Kübler Ross’ 5 stages of grief. I guess I did not have any one to be angry with so why not get mad at a room painted baby blue? So, when we sold that house we knew that it would most likely be torn down. The other day, it looked like this:
The next day when I drove by, all that was left was this:
It is just Jake’s room.
Now the whole house is gone, but Jake will never be forgotten. We love you Jake.
One Day at a Time
August 18, 2013 at 10:22 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Love | 3 CommentsTags: baby loss, birthday, dark days, death of a baby, hope, Jake, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, thoughts
Thank you so much for the thoughts and prayers for us and Jake on his birthday.
We are continuing to ride on the August roller coaster of happy and sad days. This weekend had a happy day. Evan‘s birthday. I remember in 2005, Jake was a few days old and I was still in the hospital. The only thing Evan got for his birthday that year was a shower. Life is no longer minute to minute like it was in 2005. However, even today if I think too much about Jake’s birth day and death day, it seems like August is so very dark.
I remind myself not to imagine the 8-year-old Jake. There is no point in grieving over the little boy who never was but somehow I can not stop myself at times. I catch my mind as it wanders to what color his eyes would have been. . .
I remind myself to take it day by day.
Back to School Blur
August 8, 2013 at 9:18 pm | Posted in Jake, Love, Sawyer, twins | 9 CommentsTags: 1st grade, after death?, back to school, child loss, death of a baby, life after loss, love, new not so normal, parenthood, perspective, reality, thoughts, time
It just does not seem that long ago that I could fit both the twins in a laundry basket. How is it possible that they are now in 1st grade! ? Time is so tricky and now these 2 would never fit in a laundry basket:
It is what is supposed to happen, they should grow up. I know all too well that it is a parent’s worst nightmare when their child/children are no longer growing. As I wrote here, I am still trying not to “grow” up Jake and Sawyer in my mind. I know that there is no point of grieving over every stage and milestone that they will never reach. Some days it works better than others.
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.
The King & Queen of July’s Birthday (with a side of bittersweet)
July 30, 2013 at 10:08 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, normal?, twins | 4 CommentsTags: baby loss, bittersweet, child loss, death of a baby, gratitude, happy birthday, Jewish customs, King and Queen of July, life after loss, new not so normal, parenthood, perspective, twins, yahrzeit
A few years ago (not long after they learned to speak) the twins announced that they are the King and Queen of July. It is after all, their birthday month and we (me and Evan) should never forget to plan accordingly. The twins did have a fun birthday. I can not say that they were overjoyed the whole month. I distinctly remember being told I was “making it the worst July ever” on a few occasions after I asked them to clean up their toys, brush their teeth or take a bath. . .
I am forever grateful for our amazing twins. I am so lucky that I am their mom and getting the chance to raise them. Happy, happy birthday to the King and Queen of July!
The bittersweet part of the twins’ birthday was that this year Jake’s yahrzeit fell on the same day. A Yahrzeit is the Hebrew date of the deceased relative’s death according to the Jewish calendar as opposed to the secular calendar. We lit a Yahrzeit candle. We said the mourner’s kaddish. I tried my best not to think about the almost 8-year-old big brother who should have been running around the birthday party. I am so very lucky to be Jake’s mom too.
Perfect
July 8, 2013 at 10:44 pm | Posted in Grief, Jake, life lessons, Love | 5 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, Down syndrome, gratitude, hope, life after loss, new not so normal, perspective, thoughts, trisomy 21
In May of 2005, Evan and I had the nuchal screening of our first child. We were told that there was a 1 in 5 chance that our baby had trisomy 21, Down Syndrome. Friends told us their tales of false positives with the nuchal screening but after a follow-up test it turned out that we were the 1. The day that we got the results Evan had an awful migraine. He went to bed. I cried on the couch with our dogs.
I knew that I would continue the pregnancy. Evan was not so sure because he needed to know more about Down Syndrome. He questioned his ability to parent a child with disabilities.
We recently watched Perfect. Have you seen it? It is a segment on ESPN’s show E:60 about a father and his down syndrome daughter. Heath White, a successful runner and businessman, wanted perfection. Down Syndrome was not part of his plan. However, his daughter Paisley changed his mind and heart. He wanted to tell his story to the world. He became an advocate for Down Syndrome children. Heath decided to run with Paisley. He pushed her in a stroller for a total of 321 miles. The number is significant because Down Syndrome is an extra (a 3rd) copy of the 21st chromosome.
Heath White spoke about grieving once he found out Paisley’s diagnosis. Evan and I also grieved that day in May, 2005. Although, looking back now it was just a preview of all the tears to come. Perhaps all parents of Down Syndrome children grieve the loss of the “perfect” life they hoped for their child. However, Heath learned from Paisley the true meaning of “perfection”.
We never had the chance to raise our Down Syndrome child.
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.
Father’s Day
June 16, 2013 at 9:14 am | Posted in Grief, Jake, life after loss, Love, normal?, Sawyer | 7 CommentsTags: child loss, death of a baby, father's day, Grieving Dad's Project, new not so normal, parenthood, perspective, thoughts
Several years ago I adapted this poem (A Mother’s Day Wish From Heaven) by Jody Seilheimer, for Father’s Day. This year I came across another (more accurate, I think) poem for a bereaved father. It was sent to Kelly Farley, creator of a Grieving Dad’s Project, from Grief haven.
Dear Mr. Hallmark ….. One More Time
Hello there Mr. Hallmark man,
I wrote to you in May
To ask that words of love be shared
With my mom on Mother’s Day.
Just as there is no card for Mom
To let her know I care,
There is no card for my dad, too,
And I have so much to share.
It’s very hard for my loving dad
To know that I’m okay.
To protect me was his job, he feels,
So he thinks he failed some way.
Although I had to leave this world,
While still considered young,
There is no way he ever failed—
There’s no more he could have done.
My dad he tends to question
Those things he cannot see.
I always send him little signs
To say, “Hey, Dad, it’s me!”
I hear him crying in the car,
The shower hides his tears.
He feels he has to be so strong
For those he holds so dear.
My dad he often gets so mad
At what became of me.
He wants so much to understand,
He says, “How could this be?”
I somehow need to let him know,
Though impossible it seems—
For him to live and laugh again
Will fulfill so many dreams.
The card I need to send right now
To a dad as great as mine,
Will thank him for the love he gave
Throughout my brief lifetime.
He’s still the one that I call Dad,
Our bond’s forever strong,
‘Cuz even though he can’t see me,
Our love lives on and on.
Please help me find a way
To tell my dad that when
It comes his time to leave the earth
I’ll be waiting there for him.
And also, Mr. Hallmark man,
Please help him to believe,
That nothing will ever change the fact
That my dad he’ll always be.
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