Isn't it strange.

Most of the time I don't know the day of the week. The date in the month is even worse. So, I find it interesting/strange/weird that I seem to instinctively know when the 7th of each month comes up. The 7th is the date Kai was born on. Several other IL mother's that I know also share the same sort of instinct for their child's birth/death date and author Beth Powning mentions the same thing in her book, "The Shadow Child".  As I do every day, I thought about my son. It was a warm day and there were couples out pushing their new infants in prams. I was a bit jealous. I took a walk and I passed by the natural toddler park that was built the year Kai died. I remembered imagining my future toddler play there when I was pregnant with him.

* Full moon wishing candles * Light a candle for your wishes *

This is a nice site my friend directed me to. I lit a candle for Kai today.
* Full moon wishing candles * Light a candle for your wishes *

Really?!?!

Can't sleep because of this article in MacLean's which is a national Canadian news magazine.
"Are we over-sharing lost pregnancies? devastated by perinatal death, parents reach out in sometimes disturbingly public ways.

It is fairly upsetting for me to read even though I can tell the author is trying to mainly be informative. I want to write a "Response" but my brain is tossing all my thoughts about in great jumbles of hurt, anger, sadness, distress, reasoning and...and...other stuff!

http://www2.macleans.ca/2012/02/29/the-mourning-after/

...

I still don't know what to say.
that's why i haven't written.

my heart still aches for my son.
the tears still trickle.
my chest still tightens.
i cry in the shower.
i cry before i go to sleep.
i sit and stare at his picture.
i hold a doll like it is my son
... but i hug it tighter than i could if it were him.
i still blame myself.
i still wish.
memories still snap into my consciousness.
my heart breaks over and over.
i move forward in time
dealing with all this and trying to harmonize my son's death into my life.
it never really works.
i "pinterest" and look at all the positive quotes I have collected
all the beauty and inspiration i have collected.
i see my psychiatrist.
i go to a support group.
i don't watch the news or read newspapers.
i do card exchanges, gift exchanges, get togethers.
i attend candle lightings, butterfly releases, birthdays for children that are not here.
i talk to my son.
i cry to him.
i wish i could dream of him.

The old water pump at Chase Farm. It used to be right beside the barn.

the holidays are the days before we learned our healthy baby's heart stopped. the days when we were anticipating our second child who was supposed to arrive towards the end of January. On this day I was hoping that maybe he would be born early because I knew that now his lungs and heart were mature enough for him to be healthy and survive. My then seven year old daughter was even able to hear her brothers heartbeat and make him kick at my appointment two days earlier! we were unaware that we would not get our baby boy and brother. Yes, he would be born early but he would never get a birth certificate. we would never hear him cry, see his eyes look into ours, see his toes and fingers wiggle... we would never get to take him home to love and nurture. He was healthy and strong until his heart stopped beating the day before he was stillborn at 38 weeks. Born early like I had wanted... but maybe I hadn't specified that he was supposed to be alive as well? i thought that it was a given that I would want my son to be alive...guess not. my mistake? he was perfect in every way except he had no heartbeat and no breath, which in reality is far from perfect. he was perfect even with this lack of perfection. He seemed to be sleeping too peacefully. i wanted him to wake up. i wanted his bright red lips to turn pink. his bluish skin to turn pink...like his sister's was when she was born only without the "cottage cheese-y" stuff she had all over her from being an emergency c-section. i didn't want to be afraid of him... but i was. i'm sorry sweetpea.

memories make us who we are. it's too bad that some of them hurt so much but memories are all I have of Kai. i would not get rid of the memories of my time with him for anything. I will deal with the pain and heartbreak as long as I can have the memories of my son.

Race Point Life Saving Stn. Cape Cod. Breeches Buoy apparatus.

Depression comes very quickly, easily and frequently. I wish contentment came just as easily, quickly and frequently. Then... maybe... life would be a bit more bearable.

Provincetown

Kai, your sister was thinking of you on our first day in Provincetown.
She wrote your name on the beach while we were walking. It's low tide so no waves for her to battle!
We all miss you.

Oct. 15th

Today, Oct. 15th, is International Infant Loss Day. Light a candle in your window at 7 pm until 8 pm in remembrance of all the babies that left their families much too soon. We were going to go down to the beach to light our candle but it is supposed to rain all day. Instead we will join a group remembrance at a hospital in Mississauga.
I love/hate these gatherings.
I hate going because it makes me so sad to see so many people whose lives have been affected by infant loss. I hate going because I don't want to be an Infant Loss parent!
I love going because it gives me a chance to really cry without feeling self conscious or silly. I love going because it gives me a chance to talk to others who have been there and understand that I am not constantly going crazy!
I posted the information as my status on facebook yesterday. Several of my friends wrote back that they will light a candle for Kai. Thank you! It warms my heart to know that some of my friends are caring enough to reply and light a candle. It helps to know that they aren't afraid to mention him, remember him, or do something for him. They are SO wonderful and I am thankful for them.