forty-seven...

We Remember...
the babies born sleeping,
those we carried but never held,
those we held but could not take home,
those who came home but could not stay.

I lit candles, not only for my babies, but for the babies of women everywhere. For my friends, for my family.

If you, or someone you know, has had a miscarriage, a stillbirth or a lost baby or child, would you please either message me, or leave a comment here? I would like to personally pray for each of you by name. Our family prayed for you, as a group, but I would like to pray for you by name. If you named your baby/child, please leave his or her name as well.

 

This was a Facebook post I made on October 15th, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. I want to help shatter the silence. After I made this post, I started adding names to a list. I had a few women message me, or comment on the post, but I also added names of women that I knew to my list. To date, I have added 47, FORTY-SEVEN, names to my list.

I did a little research and my results were staggering:

• There are about 4.4 million confirmed pregnancies in the US every year
• 900,000 to 1 million of those end in pregnancy losses EVERY year
• More than 500,000 pregnancies each year end in miscarriage
• Approximately 26,000 end in stillbirth
• Approximately 19,000 end in infant death during the first month
• Approximately 39,000 end in infant death during the first year
• Approximately 1 in 4 pregnancies end in miscarriage; some estimates are as high as 1 in 3. If you include loss that occurs before a positive pregnancy test, some estimate that 40% of all conceptions result in loss.

(This information was found on hopeexchange(dot)com)

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month, I want to shatter the silence. I want to bring light to this taboo subject. Why is it so hard to talk about these losses? Women should not feel alone during the worst time of their life.

I am the face. I am 1 in 4. Many times over. I should not feel ashamed for speaking of my babies who are no longer with us. I should not have to worry that I will offend someone or make someone uncomfortable when I say Holden's name. They are my children, he is my son, just as much so as my six living children. I would never hesitate to tell anyone about my older son's accomplishments as a musician. I would never think twice about telling someone how proud I am of my oldest daughter, she graduated college and now has a full time job. I would never worry about telling a friend about my day with my younger children, or how funny and charming they are, or how much they are driving me crazy on any given day. Why should I have to filter my thoughts when mentioning Holden in the same way. Sure, he isn't here, and I don't have those same kinds of stories to tell about him, but I wish I did. I should be able to share with friends and family, and strangers, that I love him, and I miss him, and I wish he was here. Same goes for all of these other women who have experienced the same losses that I have. We love our babies and we just want to be able to share them with the ones we love. They are and always will be a huge part of our lives.

To you, it may seem like we are obsessing about our angel babies, but to us, it is all we have. Words, some hospital mementos, a few pictures, a teddy bear or a set of footprints might be all we have left of our precious little ones. Talking about them helps us to feel like they are still here with us. I have heard so many people say that they don't want to mention Holden's name for fear of making me sad. I promise you, you won't make me sad, I might cry or get emotional, but it won't make me sad. What makes me sad is the fear of others forgetting my precious boy. To others he may not have existed, but to me, and to my family, he does, and he always will. We may not be able to see him, but we feel his presence in so many things we do. We will live the rest of our lives without him, but remembering him in any way we can. We will honor him in things we do.

The other night, I was in my bible study small group and there were only 4 of us in attendance. In that group of 4 women, 3 of us had suffered at least one pregnancy loss. In the past year, I have learned about so many more women who have suffered in silence because they did not want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. Think about how sad that is for a minute. When you go through one of the hardest things you will ever go through, think about how you would feel if you had to walk through it alone. My first loss was over 21 years ago, my most recent being just this year. In the last 21 years, I have tried to be an advocate for women who have experienced loss. I have made countless friends through my losses, and my friendships with several old friends has deepened because of our losses.

1 in 4. Think about that number. Help me shatter the silence. No one should have to suffer in silence.

If you would like for me to add you to my prayer list, please message me or leave a comment here. I would be honored to pray for you.

be kind in what you say...

Since I mentioned three things you can say in times of tragedy in another post, I thought I would cover a few things that you probably shouldn't say to a grieving parent.

I know in times of tragedy people mean well. They want to say the right thing, I'll remind you now that there really isn't a right thing to say. Sadly though, it very rarely comes out right. Maybe it is exactly what you meant to say, and you thought it was helpful, comforting or thoughtful. Maybe you had no idea the pain and guilt that it inflicted on the person you were speaking to. Most often things said to a grieving parent feel more like a punch in the gut or a slap in the face.

Throughout the course of my life, I have lost five children; four to miscarriage and one to stillbirth. I am no stranger to ill thought out things people have to say. I have been in some downright awkward positions. Anyone who knows me well, knows that I do not hold my tongue well, this even counts in my times of grief.

I thought I would take a moment to talk about some of the things that I have had said to me personally. And once again, I know people mean well and they truly feel like they are helping.

at least...no sentence starting with at least should ever, and I mean EVER, be directed toward a grieving parent.

at least you have other children...

at least you lost him/her early...

at least you know you can get pregnant...

at least you lost him before he was actually born...

everything happens for a reason...I don't believe this. At all. What could POSSIBLY be the reason that my child died before he was even born. Everything does NOT happen for a reason. I have known some amazing people that have gone through some really awful things. I know that a lot of Christians believe this, I am a Christian and I have a very strong faith. I do not believe this for one second. I don't think God is sitting high on his throne hand picking people to inflict heartbreak upon.

God doesn't give anyone more than they can handle...this is one of my favorites! If this were the case, God must think I am Super Woman! Once again, I don't for one second believe God is choosing to inflict pain on me. But if for some reason it were true, God must seriously think I am a rock star with amazing coping skills.

time heals all wounds...Nope, not even. Time may lessen the sting, but a time will never come where I do not think about my son and what he would have been like. It has been over 20 years since I lost my first child and I still think of what could have been. I still think of that child and I still love that child. Sure, I don't sit and cry all day, every day, like I did in the earlier days, but there are still moments in EVERY SINGLE DAY that I lose it. The loss of a child isn't something you can ever get over. Some wounds are just not meant to heal. Some wounds are not even meant to scab over. Some wounds are invisible to those on the outside, but that doesn't mean that they aren't just as raw.

be thankful...this one is my next favorite. Are you even kidding me?? No one needs to tell me how very thankful I should be for my living children. They are my absolute life, I couldn't possibly be any more thankful for those blessings than I already am. One of these has nothing at all to do with the other. You don't have to remind me to be thankful for the fact I can get pregnant, I suffered through years of infertility, wondering if I would ever know what it was like to have a child. And I am very thankful for the time I had with Holden, but that does not mean I cannot wish that I had been given more time with him. Would you tell a person whose parents were in an accident and one parent died, that they should be thankful that they still have the other?! NO! You most certainly would not! I don't expect you to compare my situation either.

be thankful for your other children...

be thankful you can even get pregnant, some people can't...

be thankful for the time you had with him...

be thankful you didn't lose him after he was born...

God must have needed another angel...well, I don't see anyone  offering up one of theirs!

I know EXACTLY how you feel...no, you don't. No one knows exactly how anyone else  feels, that isn't even humanly possible. Everyone processes things differently. Even if you lost a child at 6 weeks, 12 weeks, 30 weeks, you don't know how I feel. My own husband does not even know exactly how I feel, he does know how HE feels though. There is no way to know how someone else feels or processes their own grief.

he's in a better place...how is being away from his mother any better? Were my other children not worthy of this "better" place you speak of? Sure, heaven IS indeed a better place than earth, but what better place for a child than in his own mother's arms. And this makes it sound as if God hand selects children to take from their parents. God is not a mean or thoughtless God, he is a God of love and mercy.

how are you doing? Not a horrible thing to say and although this is a common question and one that normally would be easy to answer, there is just no way for a grieving parent to answer this question. Sometimes we just don't know how we are doing. Sometimes we feel like we are doing "ok" but the next second we are falling apart. And sometimes it is hard for us to know if you can really handle the truth.

let me know if there is anything I can do...once again, this is a common thing for people to say, and I know they mean well, but often times, we DON'T KNOW if there is anything you can do. We don't know what needs to be done, we can't focus, much less figure out what we need. And, it puts the ball in our court. We cannot handle that. If you truly mean what you are saying, say something like:

I'm making dinner for you, what night should I plan to drop it off?

Can I set up a meal train with some of your friends?

I am going to come sit with your other children so you can get some rest.

I am going to mow your yard so your husband doesn't have to leave your side.

I am going to come get the kids for an afternoon so you can have a short break.

I am going to come pick up the house for you; fold some laundry; wash some dishes; clean the bathroom; watch the baby so you can nap.

All of those things are practical ways you can specifically offer to help. I know one of our greatest blessings in the early days was the meal train that was done for us. We were blessed with dinners, and sometimes breakfasts and lunches for a little over a month. In the early days, I did not want my husband to leave my side. Having dinner here and not having to worry about it freed  up his time so that he was able to care for me and for the children in the ways we most needed.

you are going to have to get yourself together and move on...ummm. My baby died. I got different forms of this starting at about two weeks after I delivered my son. You don't get to tell me about needing to move on. You don't have that right. No one has that right. I may NEVER truly move on, sure I have gotten better. I get up out of bed every day, I tend to my other children, I take care of things that need to be taken care of, but sometimes it's all I can do to open my eyes and put my feet on the floor. I just tell myself, one foot in front of the other...just breathe...that is all you have to do. This is not a case of post partum depression, taking pills or talking to someone isn't going to make this just disappear. My son died. He deserves to be mourned and grieved over for as long as I need to.

Be kind in what you say, think before you speak. Put yourself in a grieving parents shoes, would you want to hear any of those things about your precious baby or what you were going through? All we truly need is love and understanding and some time. Wait for us?