020e - calling all parents of rainbow/Phoenix babies

I don’t have time to write a coherent post, due to lack of sleep etc. Please find below some unconnected comments about how life is here for me at the moment. I was just wondering if any of it rings a bell for anyone else. All comments welcome....

It’s almost 18 months since our gorgeous Salome dies, and our son Jonah is now 12 weeks old. Jonah is a good sleeper and a calm little bloke so we are through the high-pressure bit of life with a new born. But now I’m out of crisis mode I’m feeling a lot more difficult stuff than I was before. There is a back log of things to be grieved that I haven’t had the emotional space to look at until now, and as the immediate baby-pressure has decreased, these Other Things to be Grieved are coming up out of the mud.

Number 1 on the Other Things to be Grieved list is the loss of my faith. Previously Christian in form and Catholic in brand, my faith has been absolutely shredded by the last 18 months. I am very sad about this, and angry too. It’s made extra tricky by my dh having the opposite experience: the death of our daughter has deepened his faith which has been a source of strength and comfort to him. So there are 2 aspects to that one: the loss of my faith and then also the effect of that on our relationship. Our paths have diverged at this point and sadly our faith is something we no longer share. Since our daughter’s death, dh has started another tertiary course in theology, and I have trouble even walking into a church. As if our marriage has not been under enough pressure already.... Ironically, since Salome’s death I am more sure than ever that a sacred dimension of life exists. It’s just that I have yet to meet a God whose team I’d like to be on. And I am fed up with feeling so spiritually adrift.

...

021a - Perfect

My husband's grandmother alluded to the same thing--something like, "God has a plan and there must have been some reason for this." I don't know if she meant a specific physical reason or what, but I bristled at it because it sounded just like the kind of words I remember people saying when I was younger and one of my cousins had a miscarriage, words I accepted at the time but now I completely disagree with: "These things happen for a reason... there must have been something wrong with the baby..."

When we got the autopsy report and there was no identifiable cause of death for my daughter and everything stupid thing on that list was marked "normal," I was devastated but I also felt sort of vindicated. Here I held scientific "proof" my baby was perfect (except for the no-heartbeat part). But now I see that was wrong, too. Because even if there had been something "abnormal," even if there had been a chromosomal problem or a physical deformity or a specific problem with her heart, had my baby lived (and many babies do), no one would have dared say that she was less than perfect. Perfection isn't some kind of universal standard--it's the measure of how much she was loved and wanted and cherished. To suggest that any baby, whatever the circumstances, is not automatically perfect in the eyes of those who love her, it's nothing less than unbelievably rude. To try to dress it up in the guise of condolences is cruel.

I know that our babies were perfect. By anyone's standards.

Besides that, your baby girl was wanted and loved just the way she was. And that automatically makes her perfect.

I'm not sure I would have been quick enough to say something in that moment, either--reflexes are slow when you've just been flattened by grief! But if it would make you feel better to send an e-mail or letter later on, don't hesitate to tell this friend how her words made you feel and how wrong she is about the claims she made. I agree with Mandy S.--she's looking for a way to make the world make sense. But random, terrible things happen to perfect babies and to good mothers all the time. It doesn't make any sense at all. We just do the best we can to create our own meaning out of what we end up with.

I am so sorry about the loss of your perfect daughter. My heart goes out to you. You're not alone in this--in feeling the grief or being insulted by well-meaning people. Hang in there.

022a - Birthing a Dying Child (comment)

I must sit and chew on this for a while before I can articulate how my experiences sit with me. I'm still new to this. And old to this. Sixteen months ago I birthed Beckett. And 4 months ago I birthed Sullivan. And I had to introduce these cold, dead and beautiful boys to my living children and show them that no matter what life gives us we still can survive. I don't know how to do this on a number of days, but I do.

I don't hate God through all of this. Over the past 8 years he/she and I have found a very different, yet closer, relationship than that I was taught in my Christian upbringing. And the verse that I cling to even now is my life mantra.

Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death I will fear no evil.

I'm there. I am IN that valley. Every day for the rest of my life I will either be in it, stumbling up the side, laying at the bottom of it sobbing or looking down into it as I walk along the edge. And yet I feel a peace and comfort that is so much bigger than me...a peace that passes ALL understanding.

023a - when undeserving creeps have babies

SCM - have you read that book [When Bad Things Happen to Good People]? I'm reading it now and it's actually making so much sense. I didn't think I would get that much out of it because I'm not really that religious and not even sure if I believe in God. So I don't feel let down by "Him" so to speak. But the book still makes a great arguement for chaos and how random our universe really is. Looking at the big picture helps me. I can't think in terms of fairness if it really has nothing to do with me. So I'll keep telling myself that...

023c - reading recommendations

When Bad Things Happen to Good People, by Harold Kushner - I'm reading this one now and it's really been a great book for me. Like what scm said about Healing Through Dark Emotions, it's making me understand that my own loss is a natural part of life. The big picture helps keep things in perspective. It's also prompted me to reconsider my previous views on God and religion which is helpful on another level.

Lifetimes, by Bryon Mellonie - I bought this to help explain death to my 3 year old and found it very comforting, as well. "There is a beginning and an ending for everything that is alive. In between is living." Regardless of how short her life was, it was a life and that means a lot to me. She was real and I loved her. Will always love her.

024b - am I the only one?

My husband fully believes he will see and hold Gabriel — a live Gabriel; while i believe we will be reunited, I think it kind of doesn't matter if there is a physicality to it or not. I firmly believe in an afterlife, and I think it's being reunited with those who have gone before us as well as with G-d.

i like the idea of my son with other children, though, and I also really believe he looks out for us. I pray to him to intercede for us, and to look out for his sisters down here. Especially my wild 3yo.

025a - Hatred

I hate god , myself , fate , my body or whatever it was that stole my sons life. Damn you. Damn you. Damn you. Why am I here crying and pleading for the safe return of my son, why am I not in hospital right now giving birth like I should be. What do you expect me to do with my life, freddies nursery, his little hat, his bear suit and tiny little boots. Did I not try my best, did I not fight and beg you enough for mercy, what did u want in exchange for my son? whatever it was u know I would have u given you so why did u take him! I hate you. I hate you. I hate you

026a - dealing with life

hey Christy,
I totally understand what you mean,i also dont know if my relationship with God will ever be the same. Sure,i wasnt going to church as much as i used to,i was concentrating too much on my unborn son maybe idolising him a bit but can God be so jealous of an unborn child that he'd take him away?
My other aunt who is a christian said this 'you cry way too much and question God,he will never trust you with a child again,just let him go and be with God',dont you think we've got every right to question him? He stole our precious babies from us, we deserve some answers if he really cares he better come down now and give us answers.
So glad that your friend's husband is fine,its not fair i know but when your like us,you always have to be happy for others and secretly be jealous.
Keep well Christy and sorry for rambling,i just feel so betrayed by God.

026c - feeling so alone

thank you ladies for your advise, it gets harder for me by the day,for some reason i have some hope that my son might come back and be with me. Has anyne considered selling their souls to the devel in exchange of their dead babies?well,i'm trying to make that deal but like God it seems like the devil himself is even ignoring me, can you believe,i'm offering somethinng of quality here,my soul bt even the devil ignores me. I know i sound crazy bt i have to have hope that my son might come back i just have to or else i will follow him whereever he is,i'd rather spend eternity in hell but at least have some time with my son,have an oppportunity to feed him and watch him grow up.

027b - welcome to the cabin

Almost eight months ago my baby girl was born prematurely due to (what I now refer to as) my stupid incompetent cervix. She lived for fifteen minutes in my arms before silently slipping into the next world. I have been coping and managing very well up until now. Now I am 20 weeks pregnant with my second child, and as 22 weeks and 4 days approaches, I descend into irrational hysteria with very little provocation. I weep more or as much as I did in the days and weeks after her death. I can't believe that this or anyone else's pregnancy will result in the birth of a baby who lives and gets to go home. I am a faithful person, and I try to put my trust in God, but I feel so desperately that he let me down when my baby died. I have been scouring the web over the last week, secretly searching for... something. My husband thinks it is unhealthy for me to be looking at blog and websites about other people's dead babies. But I think that I am looking for others who know my story. Those I can just sit with, with my hands wrapped around a warm mug, and we don't have to say anything, because we just KNOW. Thank you for being a place where I can be a babylost mama.

027d - One Day at Suppertime (comment)

I have been doing really well lately. When my son pulled up on the shelf next to our bed and pointed to his sister's picture and said, "that?" I was able to say with a steady voice, "that's your sister, honey."

I can think of my brief time with her in my arms and not weep, and I can believe honestly and hopefully of being reunited with her in heaven. I have been healing spiritually as well. I wasn't able to read my Bible or pray without losing it and feeling great anger toward God. But I'm back in a place of relationship with God, and while it's tentative and healing, it's real, and it's growing. So, I'm doing really well.

I had the epiphany that I was doing well, and then on Monday a friend of mine emailed to ask how I was doing because I's birthday had just passed. I wrote back to her and thanked her for asking, and I told her that meant so much to me that she remembered my little girl. In the process of writing this note, I burst into tears...and at that exact moment the new neighbor came over to introduce herself. She didn't ask, and I didn't share, but goodness, what must she think of me!

Then the next day I took my son to the pediatrician, and a new nurse came to give him his injections. We were chatting, and she asked if my son was my first...and I burst into tears. I don't know why it hit me at that exact moment. I explained to her why I was crying, and she started crying, too, and she told me she was also a babylost mama. Her baby boy died 23 year ago, and she still wept for him. She said, "you never get over it, honey. They will always be our babies." I think that we just learn how to live every day without suffocating in our grief, but there will always be those days, or those moments when we remember our babies and weep...and that will be okay.