I think it's common to question what you believe spiritually when you experience grief. I honestly believe we don't have all the answers, and as long as you're happy believing what you believe go for it. But reading this book I came across this passage, it's actually a quote from a mother they interviewed for the book. I love it.
"Part of what I believe is that we exist as a soul or whatever, as an entity, before we are a body. We decide how and when and to whom to be born and what kind of life to lead, which is not to say it's all predestined and cast in stone, because we make changes as we go, but that we have a purpose for being born, almost like something or some things we want to accomplish. And when those get accomplished, then we usually die. Some people accomplish these quickly and some people take a long time, and I had the sense that Stephanie had some particular things that she wanted to do in this lifetime and she had some things to help us learn and she had a reason for being here....She needed to know that she was loved, and she knew that the whole time I was pregnant and she knew that the five days she was here and that she wanted to share that love with us, and then she didn't need to stay around here any longer. I also had another sense about her-I have a real issue with letting go of all the way from trivial things to people and relationships, and I think one of the things she was here to teach me was how to let go."
From Empty Cradle, Broken Heart by Deborah L. Davis.
Saturday, February 15, 2014
Thursday, February 13, 2014
control
I am learning, slowly and painfully, but surely, that I am not in control of everything. That is incredibly difficult for me to grasp and for me to accept. I love being in control, I love planning, I used to have to have those things. But I am learning how little I really can control.
I cannot control life or death or sickness or other people and the way they think or act. I have no control over those things.
What I do have control over is what I think and do. And really that's pretty much it.
So I am learning to let go of those things I can't control. To forgive the actions of others, because I can't control what they do so it's pointless to be mad when they don't do what I think they should. And I certainly don't control life and death. Although I think forgiving myself will take a lot of time.
I want to move away from anger, and more towards patience. And I want to keep telling myself that letting go of some anger doesn't mean forgetting my daughter or saying it's okay that she's gone, just that I'm trying to grow and learn. I love her so much, I could never forget, she's what keeps me going.
I cannot control life or death or sickness or other people and the way they think or act. I have no control over those things.
What I do have control over is what I think and do. And really that's pretty much it.
So I am learning to let go of those things I can't control. To forgive the actions of others, because I can't control what they do so it's pointless to be mad when they don't do what I think they should. And I certainly don't control life and death. Although I think forgiving myself will take a lot of time.
I want to move away from anger, and more towards patience. And I want to keep telling myself that letting go of some anger doesn't mean forgetting my daughter or saying it's okay that she's gone, just that I'm trying to grow and learn. I love her so much, I could never forget, she's what keeps me going.
Saturday, February 8, 2014
the knowledge no one wants to need
One hundred and nine days ago I had all the innocence I had acquired for 23 years ripped away from me. I had never known a significant loss, and I didn't know losing her was an option.
I can't stop asking why. Why her?
Today I was reading about stillbirth research, and there are something like 26,000 stillbirths each year in the US alone. Most of those happen full term. And many of them have no warning. Not that a warning would make it any easier. I had no idea that happened though. I thought when a baby died in utero you knew it was likely, you knew about a disease or a risk. That was naive.
26,000. 26,000 families devastated every year by their baby dying suddenly. And that's just the United States, and that's not including miscarriages and deaths from SIDS.
And why? I literally did everything I could to give that child a healthy life during pregnancy, and made sure she had everything she would need when she was born. I wanted nothing more than to be a mother, nothing. So why her? Why any babies? Why would any parents ever outlive their children? It should never be allowed to happen.
It's a question I will never have an answer to, but I can't stop asking.
In moving forward, the only thing I can do is keep up with the research, and hope that something soon comes along that can prevents tragedies like this. Today I found a test that they are designing in Australia, (here's one article about it) that tests the blood to see if the oxygen level the baby is getting is low. Hopefully it's something that will work, and be available very very soon.
One thing is certain though, I will never be naive again. And I know that there was nothing that could have prepared me for what happened, but I feel like I should have known more. No one ever wants to talk about these risks though. So there are just families who go through this, unprepared and in complete shock. If nothing else, I wish we had known what would happen in the hospital after she died.
We were actually blessed to have a staff that did everything they should have. They let us hold her and keep her with us as long as we wanted. They took pictures for us. They gave us hand prints and footprints and a lock of her hair. They made a memory box for us. All of those things were things we needed and many of them were things we never would have thought to ask for in those moments.
I've read a lot of stories about moms who barely got to hold their child or who didn't get a picture. Those things are so so precious. And at the time you don't fully realize that. Because you are in such shock and everything is so overwhelming and really you have no idea what is happening. But if I hadn't had that time with her, I don't know what I would have done when we left the hospital. If I didn't have pictures of my gorgeous child I would have gone completely crazy by now. The time with her, the pictures, the memory box, those were all things we needed.
Luckily the staff did all of those things for us, but not everyone gets that experience. So if nothing else, I wish we had been given that knowledge before, the information about what to do when the worst does happen.
Although if I could make the choice, no one would ever need such knowledge. No parent would ever be left with just memories and a lot a questions.
I can't stop asking why. Why her?
Today I was reading about stillbirth research, and there are something like 26,000 stillbirths each year in the US alone. Most of those happen full term. And many of them have no warning. Not that a warning would make it any easier. I had no idea that happened though. I thought when a baby died in utero you knew it was likely, you knew about a disease or a risk. That was naive.
26,000. 26,000 families devastated every year by their baby dying suddenly. And that's just the United States, and that's not including miscarriages and deaths from SIDS.
And why? I literally did everything I could to give that child a healthy life during pregnancy, and made sure she had everything she would need when she was born. I wanted nothing more than to be a mother, nothing. So why her? Why any babies? Why would any parents ever outlive their children? It should never be allowed to happen.
It's a question I will never have an answer to, but I can't stop asking.
In moving forward, the only thing I can do is keep up with the research, and hope that something soon comes along that can prevents tragedies like this. Today I found a test that they are designing in Australia, (here's one article about it) that tests the blood to see if the oxygen level the baby is getting is low. Hopefully it's something that will work, and be available very very soon.
One thing is certain though, I will never be naive again. And I know that there was nothing that could have prepared me for what happened, but I feel like I should have known more. No one ever wants to talk about these risks though. So there are just families who go through this, unprepared and in complete shock. If nothing else, I wish we had known what would happen in the hospital after she died.
We were actually blessed to have a staff that did everything they should have. They let us hold her and keep her with us as long as we wanted. They took pictures for us. They gave us hand prints and footprints and a lock of her hair. They made a memory box for us. All of those things were things we needed and many of them were things we never would have thought to ask for in those moments.
I've read a lot of stories about moms who barely got to hold their child or who didn't get a picture. Those things are so so precious. And at the time you don't fully realize that. Because you are in such shock and everything is so overwhelming and really you have no idea what is happening. But if I hadn't had that time with her, I don't know what I would have done when we left the hospital. If I didn't have pictures of my gorgeous child I would have gone completely crazy by now. The time with her, the pictures, the memory box, those were all things we needed.
Luckily the staff did all of those things for us, but not everyone gets that experience. So if nothing else, I wish we had been given that knowledge before, the information about what to do when the worst does happen.
Although if I could make the choice, no one would ever need such knowledge. No parent would ever be left with just memories and a lot a questions.
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