Halloween is almost here

Today it is the 29th. Ten months now since our nightmare started. I have come to a point where I try not to focus on the significance of this day. I don't see any point in giving special importance to this monthly date on the calendar, when I have a daily, ongoing pain. There doesn't seem to be any reason to exacerbate my baseline level of sadness and hurt by paying special attention to the fact that is once again the 29th of the month.

This is Halloween weekend. Last year, I was really starting to show by this time. I was about 22 weeks pregnant. We dressed up: A. was a Centurion and I was a Roman lady. It was the only costume I could find that didn't look absolutely ridiculous. This one had a nice high Empire waist that left room for my pregnant belly. Our friends had a very extravagant adults-only Halloween party which was great time. I remember talking with so many people at that party about our little one, and how excited we were. We have this great picture from the party with A.'s hand on my belly. He looks so happy and proud. This year, there are no costumes. We won't be observing Halloween festivities.

So begins what will probably prove to be a difficult time for us. It seems like once Halloween roles around, the holiday season comes barreling right behind. To be honest, I don't think the season will be all bad. This is because I remember the holidays last year as being some of the happiest times of my life. Angeline was very much with us at that time. I even know she liked eggnog! Things seemed so good. I was full of hope and anticipation. Little did I know that 2011 would be a year of grief and sorrow, rather than joy and celebration.

As the months have passed, I have wished and prayed that things would somehow change for the better. That there would be some relief. Most days I feel as I have simply had to bear up and survive. What relief has come has been in the form of wonderful, loving people supporting me. People who never expected that their role as friend or family member would include being there for me as I mourn the loss of my daughter. I am truly in awe of some of the amazing individuals who have surrounded me and helped me to keep going. I have been blessed to have access to the best doctors and professionals to help me sort through what has happened and how to continue on with my life. For these things I am grateful. Perhaps this is how God answers our prayers, by putting these special people in our lives.

October 15th and the tragedy in Seal Beach

(Image from Franchesca at Small Bird Studios)

October 15th is Pregnancy & Infant Loss Remembrance Day. I will get up early to attend the OC Walk to Remember memorial ceremony in honor of our lost children. This will be my first time, but I am told that the names of each of our precious babies will be read. I will be there in honor of my daughter. I have made a financial contribution to this organization, which funds perinatal loss support services in my area.

This has been a difficult week. I have had a hard time with my own grief, and have experienced the shock of having a violent tragedy in a neighboring community. We frequent Seal Beach on a regular basis. Having a blood massacre occur so close to home has been stunning and traumatic even though we have not been personally affected. My heart breaks for the victims and the families whose lives have been devastated. They will never be the same. Many people don't realize how profound a ripple effect comes from a tragedy such as this. It makes me sad to see letter and expressions of grief from loved ones left behind - particularly when I see them asking God why this happened. They don't know yet, sometimes there is no reason.

A little comic relief

If you every have the opportunity to see Anjelah Johnson perform live, you must go. Do not bring your husband or significant other, unless he is very in touch with his feminine side. Bring a couple girlfriends. Ideally, don't be pregnant at the time, so you can enjoy a few adult beverages.

So, one of her most famous skits is the one about the nail salon. I will leave you to find that on your own. It's hilarious.

Today, I had occasion to think of another one of her skits. It is the one where she talks about people disguising gossip as prayer requests. Warning, this skit mentions pregnancy. Not pregnant-after-a-loss, planned, wanted pregnancy, but rather the oops, teenage, unplanned variety.



In all seriousness, the truth is that this kind of gossip is the most offensive type out there. As Anjelah says, "Gossiping is bad. Don't do it. Nothing good comes of it."

Rabbit Hole

I finally got up the nerve. I have had this DVD for at least a few months now. I've been planning to watch it alone at some point, but I was afraid of how it might affect me.

Nicole Kidman (nominated Best Actress for this role) and Aaron Eckert star as parents who are eight months out from losing their four-year-old son. While this experience is, of course, very different from that of parents surviving a stillbirth, I wondered if this movie might strike too close to home.

So, I finally fired up the DVD player and watched it this morning. I thought it was an amazing, insightful and sensitive movie. From the very opening scene, I felt like I knew these people. What they were doing and saying, how they were acting. It was all familiar to me: their interactions, the conflicts of grief, the group setting, the reaction (or lack of reaction) from friends and acquaintances. I loved how the movie portrayed a couple trying to go on with some sense of normalcy, in spite of their heartbreak and suffering. Finally, I felt a message of hope and healing.

I wanted to share my impressions of this movie with you, because I would encourage you to consider watching it. I hope that you will find it as moving as I did.

It is what it is.

"It is what it is."

Gosh, I have always hated this saying. I would practically cringe when I heard people say this overused and too-broadly-applied phrase. To be honest, maybe I do see a use for this expression.

At the moment, for me, it sort of expresses a level of acceptance I now have for my grief.

I am not referring to what happened to Angeline. I would never use these words to describe her death. I will never totally accept or be at peace with what happened to our daughter. I do however, understand that her little heart formed with a severe defect. I know that surviving to birth would have led to significant interventions, including major open heart surgeries. I believe that there is a strong possibility that she would have suffered and eventually died anyway. I regard the time I carried Angeline inside of me as the greatest and most important time in my life. I believe that her life was a gift, however short. I am truly grateful to be her mother.

My agonizing, mind-numbing grief began suddenly and without warning when we lost Angeline. The nine months that followed have been filled with sadness, anxiety, fear, disappointment, but also gratitude, love, appreciation and finally hope. Grief is truly a winding road, with obstacles, steep inclines, sharp turns and switchbacks. Surprisingly, you occasionally find beautiful scenery and restful settings along the way. There comes a point in profound grief when you realize that you are, in fact, surviving. Perhaps not happily. You come to a point which may possibly be the proverbial bottom. It is as if you look at your life and say: This is not what I had hoped for, not what I wanted, not what I expected, but it isn't all bad. There are still good things in my life, even in spite of my misery. You might actually look back on your suffering and say, "it is what it is."

Did it make me stronger, more compassionate, more empathetic, more loving, more introspective, more grateful?? I don't know. Probably. Was it worth the price of my precious daughter? Definitely not. I do miss being the person I was before this happened to us. That girl is gone and I am someone new.