...a day to remember, honor and celebrate the lives of our little ones who left this world too soon.
Please mark the day on your calender, in your mind and with your heart. If you know someone new to this journey, say their child's name, help them know you will remember, light a candle. If you know someone well acquainted with their grief, say their child's name, help them know you will remember, light a candle. Years pass and we "handle" the grief better, we go days even weeks without tears. We find ways to honor our children, be it quietly or in the glare of the sun. To many, we are 'back to normal' but know that normal is very, very different now. Know that each of our childrens' names are behind each breath. Know that with ever milestone, a vital part of our family is missed. Know that we long to hear that you know that.
Spread the word that October 15th should be celebrated and remembered by all because everyone knows someone affected by infant and pregnancy loss, whether they realize it or not.
XOXO
Friday, September 25, 2009
Sunday, September 20, 2009
and so it goes...
It's been a long time since I've written here. A very long time.
I've had a few of these moments since Keely died: moments where I feel such a deep sadness, missing her that I don't have the energy in me to write, to go to my bereavement group, to do much but remember and cry here and there. I'm always thankful for the beautiful life that I have but I'm always missing a major part of that life. Thankfully, her cemetery has been cared for so beautifully this year and I've found much peace there. There are still times, often, in this journey that I'm 2.5 years into that I stop and think "this is it. I have a child that has died." It will never seem normal. I'm not sure I'll ever truly believe it. We passed Sept 12th, the day originally thought to be Keely's due date (though it was waaaay off) and while most of the time I don't think of that day as one of "her" days, it does cross my mind. I see friends' daughters celebrating 2 years on this earth and wonder if she'd have curls or bright blonde hair like her baby brother. Would she be a wild woman? I suspect. Would she be a bit shy? Most likely not, but we'll never know for sure. That's the hardest part; the never.
Life passes so very quickly around me and I try to soak up every. last. second with my beautiful living children. How did they grow to be so big, so smart, so very them. My oldest boy is thriving in preschool. They talk about siblings and he talks about his brother. And he talks about his sister. My 4 year old is more wise to grief than most adults I know. He knows it's not only okay to talk about her, but it's encouraged, it's expected. His little brother will grow up knowing nothing else than it being okay to talk about the sister he never got to meet on earth.
My some miracle, her butterfly at the cemetery is still there. I didn't think it would make it over night and it's been 2 months so far <3
We're coming closer to the time to think about baby #4. As soon as baby #3 weans (whenever he decides that will be), we'll get to it! I'm excited to think about 2 lines on a pregnancy test and nervous for all the fears that come along with those lines. I don't think this go round will be quite as scary. I feel more peace as of now but it's easier to think of when it's an abstract maybe. But time will tell and I'm okay with that too.
And so while I'm sorry for the time I've spent away from the blog, I know I didn't spend it away from her. Not a minute goes by that all of my children aren't in every thought, every prayer. I'm so very blessed. Sometimes the strongest emotions cannot be spoken.
I've had a few of these moments since Keely died: moments where I feel such a deep sadness, missing her that I don't have the energy in me to write, to go to my bereavement group, to do much but remember and cry here and there. I'm always thankful for the beautiful life that I have but I'm always missing a major part of that life. Thankfully, her cemetery has been cared for so beautifully this year and I've found much peace there. There are still times, often, in this journey that I'm 2.5 years into that I stop and think "this is it. I have a child that has died." It will never seem normal. I'm not sure I'll ever truly believe it. We passed Sept 12th, the day originally thought to be Keely's due date (though it was waaaay off) and while most of the time I don't think of that day as one of "her" days, it does cross my mind. I see friends' daughters celebrating 2 years on this earth and wonder if she'd have curls or bright blonde hair like her baby brother. Would she be a wild woman? I suspect. Would she be a bit shy? Most likely not, but we'll never know for sure. That's the hardest part; the never.
Life passes so very quickly around me and I try to soak up every. last. second with my beautiful living children. How did they grow to be so big, so smart, so very them. My oldest boy is thriving in preschool. They talk about siblings and he talks about his brother. And he talks about his sister. My 4 year old is more wise to grief than most adults I know. He knows it's not only okay to talk about her, but it's encouraged, it's expected. His little brother will grow up knowing nothing else than it being okay to talk about the sister he never got to meet on earth.
My some miracle, her butterfly at the cemetery is still there. I didn't think it would make it over night and it's been 2 months so far <3
We're coming closer to the time to think about baby #4. As soon as baby #3 weans (whenever he decides that will be), we'll get to it! I'm excited to think about 2 lines on a pregnancy test and nervous for all the fears that come along with those lines. I don't think this go round will be quite as scary. I feel more peace as of now but it's easier to think of when it's an abstract maybe. But time will tell and I'm okay with that too.
And so while I'm sorry for the time I've spent away from the blog, I know I didn't spend it away from her. Not a minute goes by that all of my children aren't in every thought, every prayer. I'm so very blessed. Sometimes the strongest emotions cannot be spoken.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
