Quest for meaning
Angie--Such an interesting post. Your way with words is amazing and definitely sends my mind off to thinking about wonderful things. But also, reading your readers' comments. It is all so encouraging to read how other BLMs regard their little ones' spirits. I have become much more spiritual and less religious since Chase died and yearn so badly for some sign, some point of contact, something nearly tangible, if I could.
This is a beautiful, much needed post. I think too often, we are afraid to feel anything but the deep sadness that comes from losing a child. I admit that in the beginning, if I found something funny and laughed - I felt guilty about it. I felt that I didn't have the right to laugh anymore. I thought that I "needed" to be sad. For the longest time, I wallowed in the depths of darkness because I didn't know what else to do.
I was once very scientifically driven. Everything had a place, a reason, an explanation. Until Stella died. There was no "reason" it was a medical "mystery" The doctors, scientists, no one. not one person could figure it out. So I turned to the spiritual side of it. Why? Was this one of those "everything happens for a reason" "God has a plan" kinda BS?! Was I being punished!? I dont understand it. Not from a scientific point nor a spiritual point. It plain does not make any sense and just made life worse. Harder, less happy. Like a huge dark cloud in my heart covering the sun.
This is so interesting, both physically and spiritually, and it reminds me so much of something an old friend wrote to me in an email shortly after I lost my sweet daughter. I was really grappling with the issue of where her tiny soul had ended up, and my friend wrote this:
Today is 2nd year aniversiry of my still born son, I came looking for support and I am glad I came! My son was born at 21 weeks and the pictures we have I hold sacred! I cant display them due to their "scary" nature and the fact I have older children that would be effect by them. I have chosen instead to display a picture of Christ holding a baby. I like to imagine that the baby is mine and that he is holding him until I have finished my work here on earth. I know that may be to much religion for some but it comforts me. To me, that is my picture of him! I miss him!
Thank you Joanna for replying. For me its also terrifying to look at woman who are pregnant and sometimes it makes me mad that I did not know of thing I know now. But it is very comforting to be on the site, it helps me get through this bad feeling although its only been 4 weeks since Zandre died and my emotions is still very much up and down. I think I want to get pregnant very soon cause I wont forget Zandre or my feelings will get lighter but not go away, just to know that there is a possibility that we could bring a baby home makes me think life is not that bad.
Dear Marianne,
Your story spoke to me... I can imagine myself sitting by the stone circle and wishing for the magic of old to help me with my desires. Many times through my little Emily's short life I prayed to the Goddess that she would let me keep her. I already had an intuitive feeling that my little one was not meant for this world. Each time we would pass another milestone I would whisper thanks and promise not to forget her kindness and the gift of the life she allowed me to keep.
I am the mother of three children, two living, one dead. Our second was hard earned, two miscarriages, six years and my son remained an only child. I had prayed in our local church, not having visited since a young reluctant teenager. I lit candles and kept a steady vigil, praying to this God that I Couldn't believe in, but my son remained an only child and his pleadings for a sibling persisted.
I talked to my daughter for the thousandth time yesterday, and I swear she talked back to me from heaven. I told her I loved her and how my heart hurts so much without her. She told me she loved me and she knew I loved her. I felt her above my head at that point. I think God let her come close to me to comfort me, and I thank him for that. I wish she was in my arms. It has been six months since she passed away, I miss her and love her so much.