Being strong

I found this in Pinterest. How true. I never thought I could be strong enough to go  through a natural birth knowing that my son was already dead just two weeks before he was due. I also didn't think I would be able to deal with living without him. But I'm still here. trying one day at a time.

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!!

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.

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.