I've been quiet here lately. I haven't been able to bring myself to post anything in more than a month. I don't want to be a Debbie-downer in the babyloss blogosphere. I realize that is something of an oxymoron, and of course, there are many heart-wrenching, painful, depressing posts out there.
But really, there are a handful of general classifications of people who read these blogs:
1) the newly bereaved mothers
2) mothers who are some months beyond their loss and looking to the future
3) the babyloss mothers who are either pregnant or have just given birth to their rainbow babies
4) friends, family, other supporters
5) a very small group of assorted individuals who are interested in babyloss for other reasons (hopefully legitimate!)
Groups 1 - 3, and there is some crossover here, constitute the majority of the babyloss blogosphere readership. Basically, none of them would want to think about, let alone hear about, all that I have been experiencing lately. It is simply too discouraging and depressing. It's hard to understand how people with a dead baby can be further disillusioned, but they can. It's because, after some period of suffering their loss, they regain hope that their lives will become less painful and that they will have a sense of joy again. So, they don't like to hear about situations where a babyloss mother just keeps getting the beatdown. Again and again.
The fact is, I am now 18 months out from the worst day of my life. For unknown reasons, it took a very long time and extraordinary efforts for me to conceive again. Only to suffer another early loss. No idea why. It is every babyloss mother's worst nightmare. That is, the nightmare after the original nightmare. And it happens to be my real life.
It is particularly difficult to stomach the probing questions from well-intentioned friends and acquaintances. They SO want to hear good news from me. Some of them genuinely care about what I have been going through and are getting what I call "empathy fatigue." It is very difficult to continue being positive and supportive with a friend who has been facing extreme difficulties for a prolonged time. Then there are those who don't actually care about me specifically, but want to hear good news of some sort of turn-around of events because it bothers them to know that life can be so cruel. They need reassurance that something so awful won't happen to them, too.
While I don't want to get into a lot of details about what has been going on, I felt I should give a brief and honest statement as to why I have very little to say at the moment.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Saturday, May 5, 2012
International Bereaved Mother's Day
Sunday, April 15, 2012
Diversions
When we are in a place of darkness and despair, sometimes we need to look around to find inspirations for joy and appreciate what is beautiful in this life.
Last night I attended a Chris Botti performance. It was spectacular overall, and at times breathtaking. Here is one song they performed that was really fun and uplifting. We all need a little levity!
Last night I attended a Chris Botti performance. It was spectacular overall, and at times breathtaking. Here is one song they performed that was really fun and uplifting. We all need a little levity!
Thursday, April 12, 2012
Science and life
I recently found a card for Adrian's birthday which had a beautiful saying, attributed to Albert Einstein.
"There are only two ways to live your life. One is that nothing is a miracle, the other is that everything is a miracle."
I have an interest in the physics of the cosmos. The only problem is, it's so darn confusing. Difficult to imagine. Hard to wrap you head around. Reading that sort of material is pretty heavy (pun intended). Fortunately, there are some fairly well-done nerdy scientific programs that attempt to discuss the science of space and time, such as the miniseries I was watching today, "How the Universe Works."
I remember becoming more intrigued by the nature of the universe and outer space sometime last year. I heard about things like parallel universes and wondered if they existed. I believe that many people facing an intense personal crisis are led to the inevitable questions of, "what does it all mean?" and "does anything really matter?" This is true even for people of faith. There are those who resist science principles in the name of faith, but for myself and many (if not most) others highly educated in the sciences, these truths actually serve to reinforce belief in a higher power or force, if you will. At a minimum, the existence of another dimension that we don't yet understand and a purposeful design that we cannot explain.
Meanwhile, while we're hanging out here on this rock, miracles abound, if you choose to appreciate them. Sure my baby died, but what a miracle that she was conceived. By the most amazing and intricate process, her unique DNA (created from our DNA) created a tiny being, unlike any other. How miraculous that my body carried and nourished her little soul for her whole life here on earth. Even in the context of loss and terrible pain, I can appreciate the miracle that was my Angeline.
Zooming way out, into the cosmos, thinking about expansion of the universe (the Big Bang versus other competing theories), black holes, worm holes, supernovas, antimatter, the singular theory of matter... By comparison, this planet seems so small, our understanding so limited, humans so powerless. When you really think about the tremendous and powerful forces at play in the universe, you must let go of any delusions of control you may still have. When you realize that there are nomadic black holes out there (millions of them) that could come and suck up our solar system without warning, you have a different perspective of your own personal life. But now, somehow even death seems less threatening, knowing my baby girl has gone before me, how can I be fearful?
Oddly enough, contemplating astrophysics made me think of a meditation I had been listening to recently. (Check out Meditation Oasis on iTunes). The meditation encouraged us to be still in the present moment, not to will one thing or another, or to resist things being the way they are, but rather to exist in the present time peacefully, believing that we are exactly where we are meant to be. Given the incredible unlikeliness that any one of us is here at all, I would have to agree. It is probably true that each of us is exactly where we are meant to be, whether by means of destiny or God or the forces of the universe. As much pain as we may feel at a particular time, we can choose to focus on the miracles and find joy in every day.
"There are only two ways to live your life. One is that nothing is a miracle, the other is that everything is a miracle."
I have an interest in the physics of the cosmos. The only problem is, it's so darn confusing. Difficult to imagine. Hard to wrap you head around. Reading that sort of material is pretty heavy (pun intended). Fortunately, there are some fairly well-done nerdy scientific programs that attempt to discuss the science of space and time, such as the miniseries I was watching today, "How the Universe Works."
I remember becoming more intrigued by the nature of the universe and outer space sometime last year. I heard about things like parallel universes and wondered if they existed. I believe that many people facing an intense personal crisis are led to the inevitable questions of, "what does it all mean?" and "does anything really matter?" This is true even for people of faith. There are those who resist science principles in the name of faith, but for myself and many (if not most) others highly educated in the sciences, these truths actually serve to reinforce belief in a higher power or force, if you will. At a minimum, the existence of another dimension that we don't yet understand and a purposeful design that we cannot explain.
Meanwhile, while we're hanging out here on this rock, miracles abound, if you choose to appreciate them. Sure my baby died, but what a miracle that she was conceived. By the most amazing and intricate process, her unique DNA (created from our DNA) created a tiny being, unlike any other. How miraculous that my body carried and nourished her little soul for her whole life here on earth. Even in the context of loss and terrible pain, I can appreciate the miracle that was my Angeline.
Zooming way out, into the cosmos, thinking about expansion of the universe (the Big Bang versus other competing theories), black holes, worm holes, supernovas, antimatter, the singular theory of matter... By comparison, this planet seems so small, our understanding so limited, humans so powerless. When you really think about the tremendous and powerful forces at play in the universe, you must let go of any delusions of control you may still have. When you realize that there are nomadic black holes out there (millions of them) that could come and suck up our solar system without warning, you have a different perspective of your own personal life. But now, somehow even death seems less threatening, knowing my baby girl has gone before me, how can I be fearful?
Oddly enough, contemplating astrophysics made me think of a meditation I had been listening to recently. (Check out Meditation Oasis on iTunes). The meditation encouraged us to be still in the present moment, not to will one thing or another, or to resist things being the way they are, but rather to exist in the present time peacefully, believing that we are exactly where we are meant to be. Given the incredible unlikeliness that any one of us is here at all, I would have to agree. It is probably true that each of us is exactly where we are meant to be, whether by means of destiny or God or the forces of the universe. As much pain as we may feel at a particular time, we can choose to focus on the miracles and find joy in every day.
Thursday, March 29, 2012
Another mother
There are some positive and hope-inspiring things happening in my life right now, but tonight my heart is heavy, as I have witnessed the pain and grief of another mother joining our forlorn ranks.
It was emotionally difficult for me to hear the details of her unborn baby's condition a short while back, knowing that it would likely not be long until she would joining our unhappy club. She and her doctors took heroic measures to save her sweet baby. Sadly, not enough could be done.
I was so glad to hear that this brave young mother had held her precious son and loved his earthly body, even after he had gone to heaven. She says he was perfect and beautiful. I know that she will eventually cherish the memories of those moments. She gave her baby a name, so that we can all acknowledge his identity and his personhood. This baby has touched many lives, even as he has passed away from us. I hope that she had some comfort from the few thoughts I was able to share with her even as she faced her worst nightmare. I remember being there, in that horrible place, like it was yesterday. Yet at the same time, I am a fundamentally different person than I was when I started on this difficult path.
This beloved baby reminds us that there is no footprint too small.
(Now I Lay Me Down To Sleep - http://www.nowilaymedowntosleep.org/)
It was emotionally difficult for me to hear the details of her unborn baby's condition a short while back, knowing that it would likely not be long until she would joining our unhappy club. She and her doctors took heroic measures to save her sweet baby. Sadly, not enough could be done.
I was so glad to hear that this brave young mother had held her precious son and loved his earthly body, even after he had gone to heaven. She says he was perfect and beautiful. I know that she will eventually cherish the memories of those moments. She gave her baby a name, so that we can all acknowledge his identity and his personhood. This baby has touched many lives, even as he has passed away from us. I hope that she had some comfort from the few thoughts I was able to share with her even as she faced her worst nightmare. I remember being there, in that horrible place, like it was yesterday. Yet at the same time, I am a fundamentally different person than I was when I started on this difficult path.
This beloved baby reminds us that there is no footprint too small.
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