Annual IL Holiday exchange

Every year since my son was stillborn I have participated in a Holiday Gift Exchange for Infant Loss parents. This year I had the privilege to make a gift for Holly's daughter, Eden. I had made a basket full of cast pulp hearts and stars because I was also hosting some fellow IL moms at my studio for a holiday ornament making session.

For Eden.
One side has vintage cotton lace flowers with glass seed bead centres.

I hand set Eden's name and birthdate and then letterpress printed it
 on some lightweight paper.

These are some of our other creations for ornaments.
I wish I had better pictures. They are quite impressive.

This is Viv's that she made for her baby boy. 

So ture

to Enzo's Mommy

"It is funny how the feelings of loss and grief wash up like waves. Some days/months are easier than others... but I haven't quite figured out why. You are supposed to go with the flow and not fight your emotions but it is SO tiring! I'm trying to learn to accept that all a person can do is go with the flow and try to relax enough to stay afloat. I sunk several times in the past year but I guess I've never hit the bottom (even though it feels like I have!) because I keep finding myself eventually fighting to keep afloat. At times like this I wish we could all join in a BIG messy, sobby hug. A big hug that contains compassion, understanding, empathy, love and support. A hug that we all wish we could give our dead babies but give to each other instead."
- part of a note I wrote to Enzo's mother earlier today.
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Christmas this year sucks. Too many new infants in my life and one sweet baby boy who died 10 days ago. He isn't mine. I know his mother from a workshop I taught and she contacted me just before he died. K. (I'm not going to write his name because I am not sure if his mother would want me to) was born premature and fought for 6 more months to stay in this world. When I read his mother's e-mail to me I had one of those film style flashbacks of my time with my son and the pain of his death. The absolute, piercing feeling of despair at having to leave my child in a cold sterile room when I had to go home. It saddened me to think that she might have the same piercing emotions. No one should have to experience emotions that are so strong, intense, painful and disturbing!... but we do... and we have to deal with the echoing after effects of this huge shock. Is this how the saying, "Life isn't fair." first came about, because it is SO true!

Tonight, for October 15th Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day,
we lit candles at 7 pm to remember Kai and all his friends out in the universe.

Our candles by the front room window. We light the large pillar candle on Kai's birthday as well. We have one for our daughter that we light on her birthday so we thought it would be right that Kai have one , too.

My daughter helped me write all our babies' names on the candles, arrange them and light them.
She even sent an e-mail to her Teacher skiing if it would be possible to have Oct. 14th mentioned on the school announcements!   I did warn her that they probably wouldn't do it but she said that it would be fine. She just wanted to ask. I'm so in awe of her. I was never that aware in grade 6.

Balloons - Aug. 19th.

Kai's balloons with the names of some of our friends"Angel" babies written
on a piece of washi paper and tied to the cotton string.

My friend and fellow IL mom letting our boys' balloons fly.
We decided to let them go from the "crow's nest" of the pirate ship play structure!

Going, going...

...almost gone. We watched them until we couldn't see them anymore.

The names of some of Kai and Oscar's playmates in the sky.

Accept?

at the Beach in Ofir, Portugal. I was visiting my best friend in Portugal.  We went to the Atlantic ocean where it was terribly windy.

These days all my energy goes towards trying to accept.
Accept that I lost my son. Accept that no one will ever know why. Accept that know matter what I want to think, it was in no way my fault. Accept that I will not have a Rainbow child. Accept that adoption is unlikely because of our finances, me mental history, our ages. Accept that every time a friend announces she is pregnant  or has a baby I will experiences massively conflicting emotions of joy, grief and jealousy. Accept that there is nothing I can do to change the void that is left in my heart when it grew bigger to with love for my second child that died before he was born. Accept that now part of my heart hangs like a deflated balloon in my chest as a constant reminder of what was to be...but isn't.

An event I've organised for Aug. 19th.  this year. It's a balloon
release and a pot luck picnic dinner at our local beach.

Teetering

Kai's red dogwood tree this spring.

It's been almost three and a half three years. I've always felt my life was ill balanced but after Kai's death it became even worse. For a while it was better... but now when I start to lose my balance I find it very difficult to right myself again. I know I have to for my daughter...but the unbalanced thoughts in my head tell me that she has her daddy and so Kai needs his mommy... and the pain of being here gets to be overwhelming at times.
There is a whole crop of brand new infants on the street by my studio. All of them are boys. I'm so relieved that all the parents had healthy, living babies. They are adorable! But I also get a feeling of being kicked or stabbed in my stomach. I can't have a "Rainbow" child. I had hoped we could but it didn't work out that way. My cycle is already slowing down. I see those happy parents with their adorable new children and I feel like an absolute failure at life. I know I'm not supposed to think that...but it is difficult.
I wish we could adopt but we can't. We don't have the money and as a past psychiatric in-patient I am not the best candidate for a mom.
Kai, what did I do wrong? Why did your cord whither where it attached to the placenta? I wish you could tell me...