My answers

Yes. I know that at age 44 the chances of me having a totally healthy baby is not great. I know that my chances of getting pregnant at my age are not good.

No. I don't think that I would be putting my child at risk because of my age. There is always a risk no mtter what the age.

Yes, I realize the chances of my child having Down's Syndrome are much higher at me age.

Yes. I know I have a wonderful, healthy daughter and yes, I do love her with all my heart. Just because I want another child doesn't mean I would love her less. Do people who have a second, third or fourth child love their first born less?

Yes. I know that some people don't even have one child. Does that mean no-one should have a child or want a child?

Yes, I'm being selfish for wanting another child. There are pretty much ONLY selfish reasons for wanting a child. But that is not necessarily a bad thing. WHo says to themselves, "I don't want to give birth to a child but I'll do it anyway to populate my country or because it's my duty!"?

If Kai had lived would you still be saying these stupid things to me about trying to have another child?

Yes, I will be an older parent and the odds of me dying of old age are greater... but I unfortunately know young parents who have died of illness or accident and left young children behind as well. I've learned the hard way that for death age doesn't matter!

Why are people so quick to point out all the bad things about me having another baby? Do they really think it helps? Do they think that all these things haven't already gone through my mind hundreds of times? My healthy baby died for no known reason! Of course I go through everything that might happen... I weigh the pros and cons... but in the end it comes down to, - in ten years, if I didn't try to have another child because of whatever reason (fear of what may happen), would I greatly regret my decision? Yes, I would and my husband agrees as well.

So, please don't ask me questions as if I am naive about having a baby. I am not.  Once you have had an infant loss there is no way that you can be naive about pregnancy and childbirth! I actually wish that I could know a little less about all the things that can and do go wrong!

What I need from my friends is support and encouragement. I've already got all the negative stuff in my head! I need my friends to help me keep a balance.

Sailing

This is so beautiful. Hugs, tender human contact is so lacking in this world. 

I grew up without hugs and I always wondered if I was loved. I hug my daughter every day at least once. I miss being able to hug my son. Hugging Kai's photo just didn't work for me. Recently we bought a Dick Bruna stuffed toy. It's his little sailor character from one of his stories. The sailor is about the same size as Kai was when he was born. The plush sailor was really difficult to find. 

I think they discontinued making the plush little children characters a while ago. I first saw them 12 years ago when we lived in Japan. At that time I jokingly asked my husband to buy one because then we would have our own little care free baby! 

When Kai was stillborn I thought of the little plush Dick Bruna kids from Japan. We looked all over for such a long time and then we found one at an asian toy collector's store in an asian mall in Toronto. They only had the sailor which was amazing since Kai's name means "the sea" in Hawaiian! He was almost $100.00! but I'm so glad we bought him. I hug my little Dick Bruna sailor and hope that he sets sail on the ocean of a universe and delivers my hugs to Kai.

I miss you SO much sweetpea!!

Dark, Dark, Dark.

I keep trying to get ahead of, and run away from the Darkness that always seems to be stalking me. I've been doing this most of my life. I can never seem to hide from it;  outrun it; it won't go away; It won't give up or die. The Darkness is always just a few steps away, waiting for weakness so it can mess with my head ... and then I believe everything it tells me...

Life...it goes on.

Kai's name on the beach made from gathered sea shells and sea weed.
Sunny Isles, Florida.

Kai's big sister writing his name in the sand at Turtle Beach.
Sarasota, FL.

She had to write his name so many times because they kept getting washed away before she could finish and have a photo taken! This one finally worked!

It used to be easier.

I'll be forty-four next week. It's freaking me out. I'm not freaked out by getting older in general, but for the last two years I have been acutely aware of how old I am and how much time I may or may not have left to conceive another child.
Conceiving our daughter and then our son was easier than easy. One time was all it took. Now, after Kai's still birth conceiving a child has become almost impossible.
I waited a year after Kai's stillbirth before trying to have another child even though my heart and head were screaming to me that I needed another child. I realized that I was only thinking of a male baby... and that scared me. So, I waited and worked on grieving and dealing with my fears and ideas that the fates are against me.
Now we've been trying for over a year. I miscarried last June. In January I started taking Clomid, progesterone, and using an ovulation tester. This month my period was late. It's been a week. I tried to not get excited and I tried to deal with it all in my head but yesterday I told a friend about what was going on and how my brain is thinking of too many things both good and bad. I thought  - uh-oh. as soon as you tell someone you know it's going to be bad news - but that is my old negative way of thinking! I'm stronger now and don't believe all those stories I've told myself for years. Right! So I went to bed feeling okay. I woke up this morning to find my period had started... and now I'm trying not to say "I told you so!" to myself.
It seems that many women, after having a perinatal death have several miscarriages before finally keeping a pregnancy. It worries me because I don't have the luxury of time. I'm not young. No one stupidly said to me after Kai's death, "Don't worry. You can have another." - That's because I was 41 when my perfectly healthy son's heart stopped beating. I keep trying to be positive and keep in mind all the women I know who had children between 45 and 50... but it's only partially working. The roller coaster of trying to conceive is bad enough without adding the emotions of infant loss to it and then the age factor.
Sometimes I think I should give up on having another child (my little mean voices in my head agree because they say I had my chance and look how it ended up) but I know that if I do I will regret it. But how does one stay strong enough and calm enough to deal with all this uncertainty?

2011...

Fallen icicles on Allen St.

uh huh. Feeling kind of numb. Have been for several weeks. Not happy, but no tears. It horrifies me ...but... I look at Kai's pictures and he doesn't seem real. He's a very cute baby... but I feel like the memories I have are from a movie I watched a long time ago. He's the baby from the movie. I don't really feel a direct connection to him. I used to look at his pictures and instantly feel an overwhelming pain and loss. Like I'd lost my heart and needed to get it back at all cost! I'd feel frantic! Numb is less painful... but scarier. I remember this kind of feeling from when I would get extremely depressed. I don't feel extremely depressed. I'm a little confused... Is this normal? ...Am I forgetting my son? ...Am i depressed but not in a way that is familiar to me?... is my mind protecting me? ...Should I try and force the numbness away?

I think this must be what it's like when you start having memory loss in your old age.  It scares me. I don't want to forget my son and the emotions that are connected to him. Yes. Almost are of those emotions are painful ... but I'll never laugh at his questions or be so happy when he takes his first steps... those emotions will never be associated with him because those events will never be happily associated with him. Most of the emotions I have with him are painful. If I lose the first hand knowledge of that pain, do I lose my memory of him? It's not that I want to dwell on the pain of losing him... but that is the emotion I associate with him. It's the one that overshadows all the other emotions I had... the pride that he was so perfect, so healthy looking for a dead baby... the pride I should have felt because I had an almost perfect natural birth (only my baby was already dead, so it wasn't quite so perfect!)...the love my husband, daughter and I had for Kai that I thought would be enough to bring us a "Disney moment"... the love, comfort and support I felt from my midwives, doula and hospital staff... those emotions and feelings all exist with Kai, but still the   emotion that surrounds it all is pain from loss, sadness, guilt, frustration, anger, disbelief...

I know all those emotions are there... I just don't feel any of them right now... why?

Holiday Ornament and Gift Exchange

This year I decided to participate in two Holiday exchanges for mom's who have lost their infants. For one exchange we were to send an ornament and for the other a small gift. I decided I would create personalized ornaments for both exchanges. Focusing on creating these ornaments was my way of spending time with Kai.  If not for him I would not be involved in these wonderful little gestures of friendship, sympathy and understanding. I think of him and talk to him while I do these little projects.

Both ornaments were made out of cotton pulp and cast in the shape of a heart. I letterpress printed the infants' names and dates on pieces of my handmade paper and used it as part of the decoration of the heart. I think they turned out quite wonderfully. Now I must make one for Kai and his big sister!

The holidays are so difficult. Even our daughter is finding this Christmas difficult. Yesterday was her last day of school before the holidays. I guess she got sad thinking of  two holidays ago on the last day of school when she was looking forward to playing with her baby brother in the new year. The principal found her crying in the afternoon. Our daughter didn't mention anything to us. We didn't know until we received a telephone call from her principal asking if she was alright. She's almost ten now and I'm guessing that the reality of the death of her baby brother is starting to set in. She started crying again tonight because she missed Kai. I know how she feels. 

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

PERINATAL BEREAVEMENT SERVICES ONTARIO

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 http://www.facebook.com/home.php?#!/e...


Come out and show your support on October 15th.

	Friday, October 15 · 10:00am - 11:30pm
Location	Legislature Assembly of Ontario Queens Park
More Info	Our 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.

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,
A.

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.

Mother's Day

The first blooms ever from Kai's dogwood tree that wee planted last fall.

Celebrated my second Mother's Day with only one of my two children. It hurts knowing that I've been pregnant twice, given birth twice and had two babies... but people we saw celebrating Mother's Day all would have assumed we were parents of an only child. They should make a t-shirt, pin, bumper sticker ... something that tells everyone " We have a child/children that died but he/she/they are still very present in our hearts each and every day!".
I did enjoy the day with the child I do have and my husband. I received the traditional breakfast in bed with flowers picked from our garden, a chocolate croissant from the french bakery at the end of our street, tea and an orange. Yum! For the time that I was eating, adoring the pictures my daughter drew for me and opening my present I was fine. Content. But then, when my hands, mouth and eyes weren't busy my mood slumped and I had that familiar overwhelming need to sleep. So, I slept for a couple more hours and then tried really hard to want to move. I did and the rest of the day was spent celebrating my role in my family of 4 ( that looks like a family of 3).

Friday May 7th Kai would have been 16 months old. When does one stop counting the time? Why do I do it? In my mind he will always be a baby. So why do I keep time like I did for my first child? For her it was to mark her growth, her time here since she was born, her developmental milestones. Kai doesn't have any of that. I guess it is just a way for me to keep track of his one milestone of being stillborn. A way for me to make him more concrete in my life... counting the amount of time since we first held him in our arms. Counting the amount of time that we have held him in our hearts because we cannot physically hold him ever again.

Time flickers forwards and back.

I was never told life would get progressively more difficult as time went on... but it does, and I go forward. The past is what creates my present. To ignore that past is to ignore the substance of me.
I am slowly learning to accept and embrace all the events in my life that I had previously tried to erase or forget. Erasing leaves a smudge that is evidence of the action. Forgetting never really works. Wishing for what was or what could have been just leads to more pain. NOW I understand what living in the present means. I hope!

THe candle from Kai's "butsudan" that we lit at his memorial service.

It's been 15 months. Wow. I'm often confused. Sometimes it feels like time has gone too quickly - separating us by more and more time. Other times it feels like hardly any time has passed - I cry and the pain feels as strong it did a year before. This last 15 months have been a time of opposing emotions/feelings; happiness that your memory is with me but sadness that you are not physically here; anger that you seem to have died for no reason and calmness because of everything I learned from dealing with the grief of losing you; hope because I believe your energy is here with us, helping us and despair because I just want to be with you now!

They were right. As time continues on that unbearable pain has moved to the background of my days. It still comes forward at time - heart wrenching as ever, but it doesn't last nearly as long as it did a year ago or 6 months ago.

I'm lucky that I do have friends that know I need to talk about him every once in a while. He's a part of our family so, just as I talk about my living child or my deceased parent, I also talk about my baby boy. "I loved having a midwife for my son's birth last year.", "Do you think Kai would have been artistic like his father and I?", "Hopefully Kai wouldn't have gotten my crazy frizzy hair!", "Yes, I have two children.", "Isn't this cute? Kai would be adorable in this!". I do not believe that I need to pretend that my pregnancy and time with him never existed.

A friend of mine who lost her infant son five years ago recently realized that she hadn't fully dealt with her emotions. I was very proud of her when she told me last week that she was able to move her infant's photo out of the walk in closet/dressing room and onto the top of her dresser where her other three boys (all younger) pictures are. Now she has all four of her sons together where she can see them everyday and smile.

Too Sad.

Purple Cone Flowers from Lor's garden.

MY friend sent this poem to me after she read my facebook update. I couldn't pull it together yesterday to go to freelance job.
It isn't hers, but somehow she knew this poem.
It could be Kai and I.

It's sad to know so many women go through this.


Perfect Even In Death

No one remembers,
I cannot say why
Only thing I keep thinking
Is that nobody tried

You were mine, only mine
No one knew you like me
I don't know why He couldn't
Just let you be

We shared so much
In our short time together,
And the time that we shared
Has made memories forever

So much I learned,
So much I lost -
Everything turned, toppled
And tossed

Butterfly flutters, then turns
And kicks . . .
Then, that sad day . . .
Was my mind playing tricks?

No cry, no movement,
not even a Breath . . .
As you lay on my tummy -
Perfect even in death

When I think of you now
At the age you would be,
A beautiful "big boy"
Is the child I see

My son you were,
My son you'll always be
And One -
That is us;
You and Me"

by Lil' Red

"I Resolve"

This was posted on Circle of Moms. I like it. 

In the last 10 months since our son's death I have often berated myself for "Not getting on with life". I constantly have to remind myself (or my therapist reminds me) that i am not expected to get over my son. I have to allow myself whatever feelings I have and I have to allow myself to do whatever I need to do in order to deal with the loss of Kai. It doesn't matter if my family thinks I'm dwelling and making myself sad. It doesn't matter if I cry when I see a happy family with a baby boy. I have to allow myself to freely grieve for however long it takes. This is difficult to do. I was taught that crying was not a mature emotion and that it was a weakness. Unfortunately, many people are taught this and I think it is wrong. All of our emotions are valid and I've found that denying or stifling emotions doesn't help me at all. 

I think I'm going to stick this up beside my bed!

"I RESOLVE" 

THAT I WILL GRIEVE AS MUCH AND FOR AS LONG AS I FEEL LIKE GRIEVING, AND THAT I WILL NOT LET OTHERS PUT A TIMETABLE ON MY GRIEF. 

THAT I WILL GRIEVE IN WHATEVER WAY I FEEL LIKE GRIEVING, AND I WILL IGNORE THOSE WHO TRY TO TELL ME WHAT I SHOULD OR SHOULD NOT BE FEELING AND HOW I SHOULD OR SHOULD NOT BE BEHAVING. 

THAT I WILL CRY WHENEVER AND WHEREVER I FEEL LIKE CRYING, AND THAT I WILL NOT HOLD BACK MY TEARS JUST BECAUSE SOMEONE ELSE FEELS I SHOULD BE "BRAVE" OR "GETTING BETTER" OR "HEALING BY NOW". 

THAT I WILL TALK ABOUT MY CHILD AS OFTEN AS I WANT TO, AND THAT I WILL NOT LET OTHERS TURN ME OFF JUST BECAUSE THEY CAN'T DEAL WITH THEIR OWN FEELINGS. 

THAT I WILL NOT EXPECT FAMILY AND FRIENDS TO KNOW HOW I FEEL, UNDERSTANDING THAT ONE WHO HAS NOT LOST A CHILD CANNOT POSSIBLY KNOW HOW I FEEL. 

THAT I WILL NOT BLAME MYSELF FOR MY CHILD'S DEATH, AND I WILL CONSTATLY REMIND MYSELF THAT I DID THE BEST JOB OF PARENTING I COULD POSSIBLY HAVE DONE. BUT, WHEN FEELINGS OF GUILT ARE OVERWHELMING, I WILL REMIND MYSELF THAT THIS IS NORMAL PART OF THE GRIEF PROCESS AND IT WILL PASS. 

THAT I WILL NOT BE AFRAID OR ASHAMED TO SEEK PROFESSIONAL HELP IF I FEEL IT IS NECESSARY. 

THAT I WILL COMMUNE WITH MY CHILD AT LEAST ONCE A DAY IN WHATEVER WAY FEELS COMFORTABLE AND NATURAL TO ME, AND THAT I WON'T FEEL COMPELLED TO EXPLAIN THIS COMMUNION TO OTHERS OR TO JUSTIFY OR EVEN DISCUSS IT WITH THEM. 

THAT I WILL TRY TO EAT, SLEEP, AND EXERCISE EVERY DAY IN ORDER TO GIVE MY BODY STRENGTH IT WILL NEED TO HELP ME COPE WITH MY GRIEF. 

TO KNOW THAT I WILL HEAL, EVEN THOUGH IT WILL TAKE A LONG TIME. 

TO LET MYSELF HEAL AND NOT FEEL GUILTY ABOUT FEELING BETTER. 

TO REMIND MYSELF THAT THE GRIEF PROCESS IS CIRCUITOUS~THAT IS, I WILL NOT MAKE STEADY UPWARD PROGRESS. AND WHEN I FIND MYSELF SLIPPING BACK INTO THE OLD MOODS OF DESPAIR AND DEPRESSION, I WILL TELL MYSELF THAT "SLIPPING BACKWARD" IS ALSO A NORMAL PART OF THE GRIEF PROCESS AND THESE MOODS, TOO, WILL PASS. 

TO TRY TO BE HAPPY ABOUT SOMETHING FOR SOME PART OF EVERY DAY, KNOWING THAT AT FIRST, I MAY HAVE TO FORCE MYSELF TO THINK CHEEFUL THOUGHTS SO EVENTUALLY THEY CAN BECOME A HABIT. 

THAT I WILL REACH OUT AT TIMES AND TRY TO HELP SOMEONE ELSE, KNOWING THAT HELPING OTHERS WILL HELP ME TO GET OVER MY DEPRESSION. 

THAT EVEN THOUGH MY CHILD IS DEAD, I WILL OPT FOR LIFE, KNOWING THAT IS WHAT MY CHILD WOULD WANT ME TO DO. 

(author unknown) 

Oct. 15th Light a Candle

Candle lit at Kai's memorial in January 2009.

"Lights of Love" International Wave of Light for October 15th Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day

October 15th is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance day.  At 19:00 pm on this night in ALL time zones all over the world participants will be lighting a candle ( in a window if possible ) and leave it burning for at least an hour.  The result is a continuous chain of light spanning the globe for a 24 hour period in honor and remembrance of our children.

I received this notice from a few different sources. It's a beautiful, simple idea for Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day.

( In Canada, the Federal Government does not recognize October 15th as Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance Day and I think only two Provincial Governments recognise it.) 

In the moment?

Peering into the cosmos

Started yoga two weeks ago - ouch! I'll keep it up though because my mental and physical state needs it.

My naturopath prescribed Iamara for me. It's a homeopathic that is specifically for depression due to grief. I can take it along with my regular antidepressants! I've been taking one miniscule white ball a day and it actually seems to help!! I've been able to cut back on one of my medications! 

This is a homeopathic remedy that has a much longer track record than modern anti-depressants, is much, much less expensive and you don't have to have a doctor's prescription. I wish my psychiatrist and /or therapist had let me know about this. 

So, time is marching on regardless of how I feel about it. At this point Kai has been dead for as long as he lived. It's an unsettling thought. For some reason it just does not feel right for me to experience anything past this point. Usually your child's life goes on past your own. 

All these time passages are extremely unsettling to me. It's doesn't match what I feel or what is in my head. 

How does one live in the moment? 

Empty arms in Haliburton

We went camping last weekend up in Haliburton. This is the view from our campsite. It was my daughter's first camping experience. She wasn't too impressed at first but once we lit a camp fire she seemed to love it! She became "Keeper of the Fire". I brought a picture of Kai to put beside my sleeping bag. It was automatic. Bringing his picture camping was, in some way, a way for me to have both my children camping with us. 

There was a nine month old baby boy at another site. I was able to hold him for a while. It was the first time I had held a baby since Kai. I was fine while I held little A, but later in the day the pain came washing over me and I cried and cried. I wanted so badly to hold that little guy again. It just felt so perfect. Kai would be seven months old as of Friday - the first day of our camping trip.

I am really feeling that "empty arms" symptom now. I hate it! It just reminds me that my son is gone and there is nothing I can do about it. 

I keep thinking of making a doll of Kai. I am creative, i can do basic sewing and I could create a really artistic little bundle for me to hold. Is that creepy? Is it healthy? I don't know. I just want to hold my baby boy that would be seven months old now.

Me and A.

Wishing . . .

I've really been pre-occupied these days with wishing I had Kai to hold in my arms. I feel a need to love and nurture him. . . but I can't because he's gone. I've given up on my gardening. I usually love seeding and nurturing my little seedlings until they become flowers and veggies - now it just keeps reminding me of Kai. It hurts.

I don't understand how he could have died? We were both healthy! Isn't that supposed to mean something? The cause of his death was because the umbilical cord detached from the placenta. Apparently the cord was 'withered' where it attached. There was no reason the doctors could find as to why that happened. He was still born at the beginning of 38 weeks. He was chubby! He weighed 6 pounds 12 ounces! He was so perfect in every way except that he wasn't breathing and his heart had stopped beating the day before. Did the cord develop that way . . . did I do something to cause it to form improperly . .  . or did I do something that made the cord wither part way through my pregnancy? I hate not knowing - but would knowing be any better?

I hate this. I wish he were here!!!

We went to see the 3D animated movie "UP" this afternoon. I had been warned that a part in the beginning might be a bit difficult. Well, actually I found 2 parts in the beginning a bit difficult, but the rest of the movie was very enjoyable. The two parts in the beginning are only momentary and they are about loss. The rest of the movie deals with (in a hilarious manner) the old man, Mr. Fredrickson,  slowly overcoming his losses and grief.

I quite liked the movie. We are almost at the point where Kai would be 6 months old. I cried a bit at the two brief glimpses of Mr. F's losses. In a way, it helped me to release some of my grief over the loss of my son. 

Six months later, friends and relatives seem to assume that you are almost back to normal. Nobody calls, nobody visits. Sure, I have longer moments in between feeling overwhelmed by pain and grief, but those heart wrenching moments still appear several times on a daily basis! 

Night time is horrible. It's the end of another day that takes me a day farther away from the time I held my still born son. It reminds me that Kai is not in bed beside me. My hand holding his tiny foot and him contentedly breastfeeding, big eyes staring at my face and slowly closing and opening until he falls asleep. Kai is not here. I will never know what he looked like with his eyes open. I will never know his smile or his voice. I can feel my heart crumble in my chest every time I realise these things.

Weekends are very difficult, too. I'm not sure why. Kai died, most likely on a Monday. Tuesday morning we found out he was dead (technically we were told that "his heart is not beating"). I delivered him in the first hour of a Wednesday morning. All these days are during the week. Do I dread the weekend; because it was the last time Kai was alive? Because it leads up to Monday and finding out he wasn't going to be ours to keep and bring home? Because it's two days with my family at home and yet I still feel totally alone? I'm not sure. I've been asking myself about this for a few weeks. So far my "gut instinct" isn't telling me anything. Unless I can pinpoint the reason I dread the weekends it will be difficult to work through and get past. That is one thing I have learned about myself after 20 years of therapy.

Capturing a Short Life documentary film.

Capturing a Short Life, Canadian Documentary, re-broadcast in Canada 
(check the web site for re-broadcast in the U.S.)

Capturing a Short Life a sensitive portrayal of the difficult, heart wrenching and taboo subject of infant loss and the importance of remembering our babies. I found it very sad yet also uplifting. The NILMDTS photographer is Heather Rivlin of Toronto. Marcia, our wonderful NILMDTS photographer recommended we see it. I'm very glad she did.

Capturing A Short Life will re-broadcast on THE LENS on CBC Newsworld on Tuesday July 21 at 10pm Eastern Time, 1amET and 4amET (that equals 7pm, 10pm & 1am Pacific Time - you need to adjust for other time zones).
(remember this is not the main network CBC, but their Newsworld network)


The website for the film is www.capturingashortlife.com