Saturday, September 25, 2010

Oct. 15th! Toronto, ON Canada

Please do what you can to support this cause. After our son Kai's death I learned that most people know very little about Perinatal death (unless you've gone through it) even though it can randomly happen to any pregnant woman. I also learned that most people, including doctors and other professionals are ignorant about the affects of this kind of loss on the mothers, fathers and siblings. We need this day to help us not be ashamed of remembering our wee lost children.

My daughter's friend releasing a butterfly for Kai at this year's PBSO Butterfly Release

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day ~ October 15th~ recognized in Ontario Canada

Hello All,

I am putting a call out to all of you who are living in Ontario, Canada. On October 15th, Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day, Perinatal Bereavement Services Ontario will be hosting a rally at the Ontario Legislation Building at Queens Park in Toronto.

We need your support to help us make the Ontario government see that that October 15th should be recognized all across Canada.

Come out and rally with us at Queens Park. We will then gather petition signatures.

You can view the online event at!/e...

Come out and show your support on October 15th.

Friday, October 15 · 10:00am - 11:30pm

LocationLegislature Assembly of Ontario
Queens Park

More InfoOur Rally is being held on the grounds of the Legislature Assembly of Ontario at Queens Park.

The rally will last approximately one hour and we will then leave Queens Park and gather petition signatures to have Oct 15th recognized as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day in Ontario.

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Envy and anger - why?

Life seems so unfair so much of the time.
I had an OB appointment today. Just a visit so that they could tell me the  results of my blood test that was taken to see if I still had healthy eggs. We've been trying for 9 months to get pregnant. Not a long time, I know, but our daughter and our son were conceived on the first try. Also, now that I'm 43 I really feel that clock ticking. Kai was supposed to be our last. A girl and a boy. Two children who would hopefully help each other out and keep each other as family when we were no longer here. I do consider myself a mother of two, but as my daughter said, "I want a brother or sister that I can talk to and play with.". I understand.
This afternoon I just found out that a friend who is the same age as I am is having her 5th child. They thought they were finished, but life happens. I'm very happy for her but at the same time I'm sitting here crying, feeling like a loser who can't keep a child alive and who can't even get pregnant. Is something wrong with me? Is there a decree somewhere that says I'm only allowed to have one live child? If there is, I wish someone would tell me so that I don't go through all this trying to conceive, dissappointment and heartache over and over again. I feel like I shouldn't even try to think that I can get pregnant and have a healthy child again. Is it because I am in art? Have I poisoned myself with all the fumes from ink, dust from paper? Why?
WHY did my son DIE?
WHY can't I get pregnant as easily as I did the first two times?
WHY can't I get pregnant NOW?
Why do I feel like I am cursed?
Have I let my family down?

i know that these feelings are considered normal, that any emotions I'm feeling are there for me to go through and experience and that they will probably pass in a day or so... but it still sends a stabbing pain to my heart that makes me want to rip it out and stomp on it so that I don't feel it!!

Monday, September 20, 2010


I wonder if this feeling will be with me forever? Feeling like something is not quite right. Like I am missing something or need something to be added. A feeling of not being complete
therefore nothing quite makes sense.

It's different than the feeling of dis-jointedness I get when I am depressed. Like my consciousness is two seconds behind what I am doing, seeing, hearing, feeling.  That is not the feeling I have.

It's as if there is a space somewhere inside me that needs that one perfect something and then my world will feel whole. Sometimes that space feels like it's in the pit of my stomach. Sometimes it's in my heart, and sometimes it's in my head... wherever it is, I don't think that there is any way I can  make it complete.

Monday, September 13, 2010

Beautiful clouds above our neighbourhood on Sept. 10/10

This is a note I wrote in a discussion page for group called Stories of Babies Born Still (S.O.B.B.).

We lost Kai about a month before you lost Seth! Kai was stillborn on Jan. 7th, 2009 at 38 weeks. My sister has never spoken or aknowledged that Kai existed. Even during our stay with her for a week on vacation. My husband, daughter and I talk about Kai several times a week. The only people from our families that were helpful after the funeral were my sister-in-law who would come and help me look after my daughter on the nights my husband worked late, and my brother who would babysit my daughter on the nights we went to a perinatal loss support group. They were great... but now no-one talks about him and in many ways they act like Kai never existed. 

Yeah. I don't really care what others think. I know in my heart that he is a part of my life and always will be, just like my living daughter! The pain and heartbreak I feel when I think of him is just a reminder that I love him and miss him. There aren't many parents who wouldn't wish for all their children to be safe and with them, especially when their children are young . Why should it be any different just because our child died? 

I am very lucky. My husband understands my need to remember Kai and understands that it's better for us to keep Kai in our lives. Our daughter keeps a photo of her brother beside her bed and talks about him with her friends (ie. You are SO lucky you have a brother/sister. I wish my brother were here!) We were all looking forward to sharing a future with him. This isn't the future I pictured, but I still want to share it with my son. I recently miscarried at 9 weeks. When we told my daughter she wanted to know if it was a boy or a girl and what we should name the baby! I told her it was too early to know the gender so she suggested a name that could be a boys or girl's. Her choice..."Bean". So now, in her mind she has two siblings!

We have a Butsudan (a Bhuddist shrine for family and ancestors) in the living room with his photos, ashes, little poems, gifts, etc. I make a point to put fresh flowers or pretty weeds there. My daughter makes cards and notes for him and put them there. I figure, everyone in a family gets a space like a bedroom for themselves and their things... well, Kai doesn't need a whole room. He didn't live long enough to have many things so he only needs a small area in our living room. 

Some people are uncomfortable about the things we do to keep our sons memory alive. We don't do anything dangerous or crazy! Balloons, a tree, candle lightings, birthday gathering, photos, talking, making things, very normal! 

Whatever other people think or feel, I love my children with all my heart and soul! If one of them is not here I will miss them with all of my heart and soul until I see them again. I don't think that is a bad thing.

Yes, please keep your child's memory alive! It can and will be at times, painful and heartbreaking to be a parent of a living child! Having one baby die brings those two emotions into your life much earlier. Either way, you are a parent!

Much love and hugs,

Tuesday, September 7, 2010

12:44 am, 20 months later.

In one hour it will be 20 months since I gave birth to our still born baby boy, Kai. I still wonder how a perfectly healthy, strong baby can suddenly die two weeks before his due date. I do understand that he suffocated and his heart stopped beating because the umbilical cord "broke" off from the placenta. His life line "broke". But no one can tell me why or what might have caused the cord to detach from the placenta. No clots (that might have explained the withered look of the cord where it was supposed to be attached to the placenta). Nothing abnormal. He was a healthy 7 pounds when he was still born. When he was born his colouring was purpl-ish. His lips were a bright deep red. In my mind I see him all pink-ish with rosebud pink lips. The black and white photos I have of him that were taken by a NILMDTS photographer barely hint at the fact that he was born without breath. He looks like a healthy baby in a timeless black and white baby photo.

How have 20 months gone by? When I gave birth to him I just wanted to die. I wished I could die. I couldn't imagine going past that moment. For days and says and weeks and weeks I wanted to die - unable to understand how I managed to still be physically alive each moment upon moment when all that was going through my mind was that I had somehow failed my baby and I deserved to die. Needed to die...
" My older daughter would be fine with her dad looking after her. Kai would be out there without a parent. I could be there with him. Did he even know how much we love him? Did he know that his death was so unbearable that sometimes I thought it wasn't true? Was he feeling abandoned? I definitely felt I was abandoning him when I had to leave the hospital without him - but what could I do? I needed to know that he knew we love him. I needed to take care of him; keep him warm, cuddle him, sing to him, love him."

Twenty months later I still sometimes have the urge to be with him, holding him out in the universe. All those moments have turned into almost two years. I still love him. The memory of Kai still hurts to my core, but it isn't as acute and desperate anymore. I don't think of the pain I feel when I remember him as a bad thing anymore either. As I explained to my daughter, "The pain you feel when you miss someone is a positive thing. It reminds you that you love that person and that you want to see them again - that you will take notice of their absence and look forward to being with them again."

We miss you and love you every day, Kai.