The Window

In my heart, in my soul, I feel cheated, maybe a little more-so than others. I feel entitled to be bitter at times because what happened to me wasn't fair. I feel like nothing makes sense anymore. I've analyzed my belief in God up and down, left and right and still can't put together a "God" that I recognize or understand. I feel comfortable with the belief that death is a part of a life, and that mistakes are an unfortunate (but necessary) part of nature. But where God fits in, I don't know. And because of that, I feel a little bit lost.

In my heart, in my soul, I wish my circumstances had been different. If I was destined to lose a child, I wish that it didn't have to be my firstborn ~ my only. I wish I knew that I could at the very least, have healthy children, a question to which the answer might very well be no. I wish I was younger. I wish I had more child-bearing years ahead of me than I have behind me. I wish I had more hope that everything will be okay.

In my heart, in my soul, I hate that nobody can tell us what happened to Gabriel, not even from a medical perspective. I hate that I have to wonder why my child died. I hate that this had to happen to me and my family. I hate that I have only questions; no answers. I hate death.

In my heart, in my soul, I am angry at fate or the universe or God or the world in general. We're taught to believe that if we do everything right, things will turn out alright. That happy endings exist for those who work hard and follow a certain path. But I did everything right, and my baby died anyways. I'm angry that my life has fallen apart and now I have to start over again, slowly piecing broken fragments back together. I'm angry that abusive, unfit, negligent parents get to keep their children, and for inexplicable reasons, I did not.

In my heart, in my soul, I miss all that I will never ever have. I miss my baby boy. I miss watching him grow up. I miss hearing his cry. I miss holding his tiny hands. I miss feeling his warmth, his life. I am missing so much, too much, that there is no possible way to write down all that I am missing. And because of this, I feel sorrow and resentment.

In my heart, in my soul, I'm a swirling cloud of grief and healing, past and present, love and hate. I'm not who I was or who I will be, but stranded in a confusing state of limbo. I'm searching for balance, for peace, for truth, but feel lost in the midst of a storm. I'm both more alive and less. I'm looking both into and out of the same window.

And I realize that it's my hand that's keeping the window shut; it's been my choice to keep it locked all along. I'm holding on to pain, sealing it in my heart, my soul. It's been my prisoner, but somehow it has imprisoned me as well.

So I wonder, if I never let the pain go, can I ever be free? And if I'm unwilling or incapable of opening the window, will love and joy ever find a way to flow back in?

Nothing about the past will ever change. Sadly this is true. But the years ahead have not been written. This life, the unwritten one, can be spent inside a prison with sorrow and heartache, agonizing over what has been lost. Or it can be spent opening the window and finding the courage and strength to leave the pain behind and fly free.

Weathering

Right now, it's mid-morning. The sky is grey and the fog is thick. Outside the temperature is at least twenty degrees cooler than it is inside, causing beads of condensation to form on the window sills. If you were standing outside at this exact moment, you wouldn't know where you were. San Francisco, Seattle, London, Paris. I'll tell you where I'd think I was. Some town near the coast, the Atlantic coast, and it's early morning when the sea air is still free to roam as it pleases.

It's dreary now. But in just a couple of hours, the fog will drift away. The sun will rise higher in the sky and the grey will slowly melt into tones of blue, until only the brightest blue you've ever seen remains. There won't be a cloud in the sky. The sun will radiate warmth and light. And here in Los Angeles on a typical day in March, it will feel like summertime. This afternoon, I'll be able to go to the beach, lay out on the sand, enjoy the sounds of a calm sea under a ceiling of endless blue. I just have to wait inside for a little longer.

Today it will be sunny, but tomorrow it might rain. Then again, tomorrow could be even sunnier than today. Despite what some may believe, I don't think it's possible to predict the weather. I don't think we can ever know in advance what tomorrow will look like, feel like, whether it will be cold and gloomy, warm and sunny, or unusually windy. But today, as I look out my window and watch the fog roll across the edge of the sky, I sense that soon this gloom will pass. I can feel it in the air. I suppose it's because I've lived here for so long. I know that sometime around 11 a.m. the sun will start to defeat the fog, the blue will find a way to overpower the grey, and the weather will turn, just as it always does.

Just as it always will.

Mother's Day Name Event ~ Creative Photo Project

To celebrate Mother's Day and the month of May, I would like to host a Name Event so we can all remember our precious babies together.

The purpose of this project is to support one another on Mother's Day, find healing and peace, remember our babies, and connect with other mamas in the babyloss community. We all love to see our babies' names written by others and hopefully find peace in sharing this simple comfort with others.

Here are the details/rules (please read before signing up):

1. To participate, you will need to creatively write the names of other angel babies and take a photo of each name.
2. In return you will receive photos of your angel's name(s). You will receive one photo for every name you write.
3. If you have more than one angel, your angels' names will be divided. For example if you have 2 angels and you choose to write 10 names, you will receive 5 photos of each of your babies' names.
4. You must physically write or spell out each name. You can use your computer to print out names as part of a craft project, but please do NOT write names digitally.
5. You can use pretty much anything to spell out names: construction paper, magazine letters, clay, rocks, wire, fabric, seashells, paint, crayons, chalk, beads, string, stickers, markers, wooden or cardstock letters, twigs, cereal, glitter, colorful sharpies... basically anything you have laying around your house, or whatever is on sale at your local craft store. Try to be creative and have fun! (I've created a Pinterest board with some really cute and easy ideas.)
6. No group photos. You can write names together, but they must be photographed individually.
7. All names do NOT have to be written the same way.
8. You will NOT have to ship anything (of course you can if you want to), but only photos are required.
9. You can post photos on your blog or public facebook page as long as others can download them. Otherwise, you will need to email your photos.
10. You can post 1 picture per day, or you can post in batches once a week, or post all of them together at one time. (All pictures must be taken and shared during the month of May.)
11. If it is not possible to spell out names or if your project requires a lot of purchased materials, you can choose to make initials only. For example instead of spelling "Gabriel", you can just write out "G" or "G.S.F."
12. Please do not get stressed out or overwhelmed by planning a major craft project. The point of this project is to experience both healing and joy, so do something that you think will be fun.

The last day to sign up will be April 18th and a list of names will be emailed to you by April 21st. (If you decide to drop out, please email me by April 30th.)

At the end of May, I'll choose 2 winners who will each receive a $20 credit to use at The Sacred Seashore. Contest rules will be emailed to all participants along with the list of names. 

SIGN UPS ARE NOW CLOSED. 

The First Step

I've really really really been meaning to post an update on how school is going so far.

Yesterday, the teacher said something about it being the 5th week of classes already and my first thought was that I haven't blogged about school yet.

For those of you who are new here, I've decided to go back to school to become a sonographer in Gabriel's memory.

Things were a little bumpy and confusing at first, but I think I've mostly got it figured out now. I'm taking my first class (Computers) and so far, it's going well. It's pretty (I mean extremely) easy, the teacher is nice and I'm not the oldest student :)

On March 21st (would greatly appreciate some reminders closer to the date), I have to attend an information workshop to learn more about the requirements of the Diagnostic Sonography major. Hopefully, all unanswered questions will be answered and I'll be able to plan out the remainder of my classes. Yay!

Starting school was one of my goals for 2013. I'm so happy (and relieved) to have taken this first step. I'm starting to realize that this is something I can actually do and that if I just keep moving forward, it won't even be that difficult. My only regret is that I wish I had thought of this sooner (and by sooner I mean 10 years ago), but then again, another part of me feels like the timing is just right. I need to do this to heal. I need to do this to keep Gabriel alive. I need to do this so that I'm doing something. I need to feel like I'm living life to the fullest, that I'm pursuing dreams, that I'm not letting his death constantly overshadow his life. I need to keep setting goals and reaching them, no matter how small or big they are.

Because I do want to change. And I do want to grow. I want to be a better person and that doesn't just miraculously happen overnight. Self-improvement take years of reaching goals, completing tasks, changing habits, breaking down barriers, and abandoning comfort zones. I'll never be the person who I want to be if I just keep complaining, feeling sorry for myself, dwelling on what I don't have, and envying others for what they do have.

I have to say that it fills me with peace and tremendous hope to envision my life in 5 years. I've had a lot of 5-year plans, but this is one that I'm going to stick to. Day by day, class by class, step by step. This is something I know I can and will accomplish.

Lastly, I'd just like to thank everyone who has supported my dream by ordering a photograph at the Sacred Seashore or by sharing it with others. I can't express how grateful I am for your love and support. Without you, this dream wouldn't and couldn't be quite as meaningful.

The Still Project

I know that many of you are already familiar with the Still Project. For those of you who have not yet heard about this incredible endeavor, please take a moment to read more about it and to share it with others.

The Still Project is a feature length documentary that is being produced by Carrie and Jonathan Pascual who lost their baby girl, Elena in 2002.

The mission of the Still Project is to break the silence surrounding babyloss by educating the public with an honest and real-life glimpse into the lives of couples and families affected by pregnancy and infant loss. I can't express how important and significant this documentary is. It is truly something worth getting excited about!

We have all endured unnecessary pain due to the ignorance of others. We've all been victims of insensitive and naive comments made by those who have no clue what it feels like to lose a baby. Our lives have been turned upside-down and shattered into a million un-mendable pieces. But the rest of the world has barely been impacted.

There are SO MANY myths that surround babyloss. The worst being that we're not supposed to talk about it. Nobody talks about dead babies. People are uncomfortable or afraid to speak their names. People don't know how to ask questions. We want to talk about our children. We want to be their voices. But we are silenced by an unnecessary and outdated social taboo.

Many people don't know anything about pregnancy and infant loss. They don't understand. And they'll continue to not understand if we remain silent.

This is why the Still Project is so important. So Necessary.

Nothing will ever change if people don't take the steps to instigate the change they want to see in the world. 

The Still Project will raise awareness, spread the truth, and provide a powerful voice for all of us who have lost our precious babies. This documentary will help to break the silence and to teach others that our children do matter. It will provide an accurate and profound insight into the lives of those who are permanently and tragically broken and devastated by babyloss. And I believe that this film will make an enormous impression on the world around us and will pave the way for much needed change.

Share the Still Project and #SayItOutLoud for our babies!

Fittsie's Angels ~ How Babyloss Used To Be

I normally don't blog about other blogs because this is such a tight-knit community and sooner or later we stumble upon everyone else's blogs. I like that!

I take comfort in finding other babyloss mamas and sharing our stories and experiences with one another. I appreciate that we live in the year 2013 and our losses took place at a time when it's not only possible to talk openly about our babies, but it's easy and feels safe. I can come here any time, day or night, and write about anything I want and know that others will read it. When I feel alone, I can browse hundreds of blogs and websites and connect with others who share my feelings of grief and despair... others who understand.

Recently, I met Gale who shared her amazing blog, Fittsie's Angels, with me. What makes her blog unique (and so interesting) is that even though she just began blogging last year, she has been grieving for the past 37 years. Her losses occurred before I was born, before the Internet, before Blogger, before anyone spoke about babyloss. Gale suffered the loss of two babies during a time when grieving openly and publicly about stillbirth was not acceptable. All of the amazing organizations and ministries that exist today were not there to help her. All of the support and compassion we receive each day from one another did not exist for her. It did not exist for anyone. Hundreds of thousands of women and families were left alone to grieve silently.

They had to find a road to peace
all
by
themselves.

For me, that seems unimaginable. Actually, impossible.

It saddens me deeply, but I am also so grateful to these past generations, for the mistakes that were made are slowly being corrected today, so that we don't have to suffer alone and silently. I know that even today, babyloss is somewhat of a social taboo, but great steps have been taken. And we owe so much to those who walked this path before us. Those whose silent grief was studied and observed and over time was deemed the wrong way. Now, we know that things like holding your stillborn baby, making tangible memories, taking pictures, speaking their names, having a funeral, honoring their memories, going to support groups... are essential to healing.  

So many women and so many families were left feeling ashamed or abandoned. They were told by medical professionals to never speak of their babies. That it would be best for them to forget and move on. There are countless babyloss mamas out there who have no pictures of their children. They have no tangible keepsakes. They were not allowed to hold their babies. They lived during a time when doctors truly did believe that photos, keepsakes and bonding were detrimental to healing.

My great-grandmother lost two sons. My grandmother lost her son and daughter. My mother lost her daughter. I lost my son. Generations of woman after woman who lost their children, but I am the first who can say so out loud. I am the first to receive help and comfort outside the walls of my home.

I really find it so inspiring that after so many years, some babyloss mamas are finally speaking up. I think it's incredible that Gale has found the courage to write about her two precious children, after decades of being told that she never could. She is proof that nobody ever gets over the loss of their babies and that speaking about them is a vital part of healing.

Her generation has made way for so many improvements.

I hope that ours can do the same.