Capture Your Grief

CarlyMarie is hosting a Capture Your Grief photo project this October for Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month.  Each day in October features a different subject for a photograph.  I have been posting them daily on Facebook but decided to go ahead and share them here (in a single entry) as well.

I made it through the entire month!  When I started this project, I was planning to participate in some of the days.  I hoped to get a picture done for each day, but it seemed a bit overwhelming, and I thought that if I got at least a few pictures, I would have accomplished at least something.  I am so happy to say that I did them all!  I really enjoyed reflecting on the subjects, revisiting lots of photographs and taking new ones, and sharing Elena with family and friends each day for an entire month.  Thank you for letting me share her with you!

Day 1:  Sunrise.
Today is the anniversary of Elena's due date. A sunrise begins a new day; a year ago today "should have" begun Elena's life on earth.  (I wrote about this photograph on the blog on October 1.)

Day 2:  Before Loss Self Portrait.
This picture was taken about a month before Elena was born. It was such a wonderful day!
(Photograph of my son and me at the zoo in April 2011.)

Day 3: After Loss Self Portrait.
This photo is not technically after loss, as Elena was living when it was taken; however, we knew she would not survive when she arrived. I am so very thankful that our nurse suggested photographs while Elena was living. I treasure each picture of Elena that I have. I miss you Sweet Princess! ♥
(Photograph of me holding Elena shortly after her birth.)

Day 4: Treasured Item.
"How very softly you tiptoed into my world, almost silently; only a moment you stayed. But what an imprint your footprints have left on our hearts." -Dorothy Ferguson

 

Day 5: Memorial.

These are the flowers at Elena's memorial service.



Day 6: What NOT to say. (I actually wrote a blog entry on this subject a couple months ago.)

These are a few of the hurtful things said to me after we lost Elena.
Yes, I know I am blessed to have my son. I still want my daughter too. His existence does not make her death okay.
I could have a dozen more children, but no one will ever take Elena's place. One child cannot replace another. I will always miss her.
I don't want my child to be my guardian angel. I wanted so very much to be the one to protect her - that was my job as her mother. (Not to mention the fact that I believe my child is a Princess in His Kingdom, not a guardian angel at all, and I do not want to think of her as being burdened with the problems of this world.)

Day 7: What TO say.

My belief is that the only comfort we have is in our Lord and the hope of eternity. Knowing others were praying for our peace and comfort helped.

Just as any other parent does, I enjoy having my child acknowledged, even if she is no longer here. I LOVE hearing her name spoken. I remember someone telling me shortly after her death that her name is beautiful. That memory still makes me smile.

Less is more! A simple and sincere I'm sorry goes much further than most people know. The acknowledgment of our grief and our loss is important to us.

A friend said, "No words are adequate." She is right. Actions often are much more powerful. I will forever be thankful for those who hugged me, held my hand, and just sat with me and cried with me, even though no words were spoken.

Day 8: Jewelry.
After Elena passed, two dear friends gave me this beautiful heart with Elena's monogram on the front and her birthdate on the back. ♥ I wear it every day. I also have two necklaces that include Elena (one a locket with her and her big brother's photos - they looked just alike as newborns!).
(Photograph of Elena's engraved heart charm on a charm bracelet.)

Day 9: Special Place.
This is the Prayer/Memorial Garden at our church. Elena's ashes were scattered here, and we bring flowers for special days and release balloons on anniversaries.  Our preschooler seems to enjoy spending time here as well, asking to go to the prayer garden after church from time to time. I feel blessed to have a place to pray and reflect that has so much meaning for our family.

 

Day 10: Symbol.
This angel holding a baby reminds me that Elena is safe and cared for in Heaven, with angels attending her in the presence of our Lord.

 

Day 11: Supportive Friends/Family.
These are cards, flower notes, and memorial gift notifications we have received. So many people have shown us such love and support on our journey, from letting us know they are thinking of us and bringing us meals to providing gifts and lending us shoulders upon which to cry. Thank you to everyone who has supported us on this road.
I have shared this before, but it is worth repeating. I still remember feeling blessed on the day of Elena's memorial service when I looked up and realized how many people came to love and support us (and knew how many more were with us in spirit). It was one of the hardest days of my life, and it was such a blessing to know that I have so many people who care. Thank you. ♥

Day 12: Scents.
When I was carrying Elena, I craved Long John Silver's so much! In fact, it was the last meal I ate before I ended up in the hospital. It was sooo good - ha! I went this week to get the picture and decided to go ahead and pick up some fish too. Gross! How did I stomach that so often with her?!? LOL! The smell of that fried fish sure does remind me of being pregnant with her, though.

Day 13: Signs.
I don't really believe in signs from Elena (I prefer to think she is so busy enjoying the majesty of heaven that we will be with her before she even realizes we aren't there yet), but I do believe that His Holy Word provides assurance that Elena is safe at Home and that we will someday be reunited for eternity.

Day 14: Community.
Bagpipes played at M.E.N.D.'s Walk to Remember this year.

Day 15: Wave of Light.
October 15 is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Day. Everyone was encouraged to light a candle from 7:00-8:00 p.m. to create a continuous wave of light around the world for 24 hours. Here is our light between Elena's angel and her Molly Bear.

Day 16: Release.
On Elena's due date, October 1, 2011, we attended our first M.E.N.D. Walk to Remember. The ceremony concluded with an amazing balloon release. It was so special to see all those balloons being sent with love in memory of our babies.

Day 17: Anniversary/Birthday/Due Date.
We spent Elena's due date at M.E.N.D.'s Walk to Remember. We received the angel ornament on the left with her name and birthday to hang during the Recognition of Babies when her name was called. The ceremony concluded with a beautiful balloon release (see Day 16). For Elena's birthday, we visited the Memorial Garden at church and released a Happy Birthday balloon as well as three pink balloons (one from each of us). Later in the day, we joined my mom as she delivered gifts of preemie clothing and some candy to the NICU at our hospital in memory of Elena.

Day 18: Family Portrait.
Today's photo was to incorporate our baby into a family portrait. We decided to wear our Halloween shirts and to find a similar outfit for our Elena Molly Bear. Here is our family of soon-to-be five!
(Photograph of my husband, preschooler, and me wearing Halloween skeleton shirts. My shirt has a baby skeleton on the belly, and my preschooler is holding our Elena Molly Bear, which also has a skeleton shirt.)

Day 19: Project.
I have done a few projects inspired by Elena.  One of them was an Acts of Kindness birthday celebration.  We wanted to celebrate Elena's birthday by asking family and friends to do acts of kindness in her memory, and we wanted to record how her life has touched others, so I started the blog in her memory to give me a place to write what others do in her memory (and to write about her in general).

Day 20: Charity/Organization.
Mommies Enduring Neonatal Death (M.E.N.D.) has significantly touched our lives. M.E.N.D. is a Christian, non-profit organization that offers numerous supports to families who have lost children due to infant death, stillbirth, and miscarriage. All of their services are offered at no cost to families, and they operate strictly through volunteers - there are no paid employees. For more information about this awesome organization, visit www.mend.org.

Day 21: Elena's Space.
Today's subject was a special place in our home dedicated to our baby.  We have a shadow box with several of Elena's things displayed in our family room.  It has her hospital band, her handprints and footprints, her dress and bonnet along with a picture of her wearing them, her ring, her blanket, her baptism certificate, the rose the hospital placed on my room door to indicate we had lost our baby, and the rose corsage I wore to the Walk to Remember on Elena's due date.

Day 22: Place of Care/Birth.
A suggestion for today's photo was to share a picture of someone who took care of my baby and me.  While the nurses in the hospital did help to take care of me, it was my husband who did the most for both Elena and me.  He has been an incredible source of support, from the first sign of complication to today.  He understands in a way no one else possibly can - he is Elena's only other parent.  I look at this picture and see the love he has for his daughter and for me, and I am so grateful.
(Photograph of me holding Elena in the hospital bed, with my husband kneeling beside us, one arm around my neck, the other hand holding my hand as we both gaze at our precious daughter.)

 

Day 23: Their Name/Their Photo.
Today's subject encouraged us to share our baby's picture and name.  Her name has such meaning to us!  Elena is a shortened form of my paternal grandmother's middle name and means "light."  Marie is my middle name, my mother's middle name, and was the middle name of my husband's paternal grandmother.  I have seen a few meanings for Marie - my favorite is "wished-for child."  ♥

Day 24: Siblings.
Our son continues to talk about his little sister. While I am so thankful that he was at the hospital and got to meet Elena, one of my biggest regrets is not getting a picture of both of my children together. Here is our son with our Elena Bear before bed.
(Photograph of our preschooler sitting in his chair holding our Elena Bear.)

Day 25: Baby Shower/Blessing.
We did not have a baby shower for Elena, but as soon as my mom found out we were having a girl, she bought this tutu and headband set for Elena. I was so looking forward to dressing her up.

Day 26: Their Age.
Elena lived for 2 hours and 17 minutes. I treasure each of the 137 minutes we had with her.

Day 27: Artwork.
Elena's name was written in the sand at Christian's Beach by CarlyMarie last November.

Day 28: Memory.
One of my most significant memories is of my husband baptizing Elena as soon as she was born. The chaplain had not yet arrived, and since we did not know how long we had, we did not wait. That precious moment means the world to me, and I hope it is a moment that I remember vividly until I am called home too.

Day 29: Music.
The song "This Little Light" makes me think of Elena every time. It is actually the song that was playing on the radio when I decided that Elena was the name I really wanted for our daughter, as Elena means "light." She is my little light.

Day 30: Your Grief - Tell the World.
Today's topic asks, "What do you want the world to know about this road you are traveling?...Write it down..."
I want the world to know that I will never forget my sweet baby girl nor do I want to forget her. It really is okay to talk about her; in fact, it is healing for me. Please do not ever hesitate to mention her, talk about her, or ask questions about her. Elizabeth Edwards said it well when she said, "'If you know someone who has lost a child ... and you're afraid to mention them because you think you might make them sad by reminding them that they died, they didn't forget they died. You're not reminding them. What you're reminding them of is that you remember that they lived, and that's a great, great gift."

Day 31: Sunset.
This is a picture of sunset from earlier in the year (I did not even attempt to get a picture of the sunset on the 31st). The sunset is the end of the "Capture Your Grief" photo-a-day project. I enjoyed sharing Elena each day in October to promote awareness of infant and pregnancy loss. Thank you for taking the time to look at my pictures and to remember my precious daughter! ♥

 

Pregnancy & Infant Loss Awareness Month

A friend posted the following passage and invited anyone to share it, so I am sharing it here:

"October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness month. Each year in the US, there are approximately 2,024,000 infant deaths.

600,000 miscarriages (under 20 gestation)
1.2M terminations
64,000 ectopic pregnancies

6,000 molar pregnancies
26,000 stillbirths
27,860 infants die before their first birthday

Breast Cancer is horrible...about 40,000 people die each year from breast cancer. But over 2M babies die each year. Society doesn't always embrace families who have experienced the loss of a baby through miscarriage, stillbirth or early infant loss - sometimes acting as if the family should just move on, forget about it, or "you're young, you can have another". The grief can be painfully silent and lonely for families.

Someone you know has been affected by infant loss. Acknowledgement of the loss of their child's life means the world to them...tell them you remember!!! That they are not alone. Ask them to talk about their loss - you listen! Let them tell you about the dreams they had for their child, the wonderment of what they'd be doing now or what they'd look like. Help them find help if they need/want it."

 

If you know someone who needs/wants support, please share M.E.N.D. with them.  M.E.N.D. has 10 chapters in 5 states as well as online support for families who have lost a child.

 

Please help us to remember these precious lives that were lost too soon.

 

We miss you, Elena!

Walk to Remember

October is National Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  M.E.N.D. hosts an annual Walk to Remember each October to honor our babies who have gone ahead of us.  The Walk is more of a ceremony than a walk, with memory tables set up for parents to bring pictures or other memories to share of their babies, a short walk from the church to the outdoor ceremony site in front of the pond, memory signs along the walk path, songs in remembrance of our babies, recognition of each baby by name, hanging of ornaments on a tree as each baby's name and birth and death dates are read, a guest speaker, and an amazing balloon release at the end.  Although the reason for the Walk is heartbreaking, and it brings up lots of memories and tears, it is an event that also inspires hope and provides a sense of recognition and pride for our babies, who are certainly blessings even if they are no longer on earth with us.  Last year the Walk happened to fall on Elena's due date, and I am so incredibly thankful that we were able to mark the occasion in such an amazingly meaningful way.  I have been so touched by M.E.N.D. that I volunteered to be on the Walk committee this year.  What a blessing it was to be part of the committee and to be involved at a much deeper level this year!

The 16th Annual Walk to Remember was on Saturday.  This year's Walk was led by a bagpipe quartet, which lent so beautifully to the atmosphere.  After everyone was seated, the bagpipes went to the front and played "Amazing Grace."  It brought tears to my eyes.  Then Rebekah Mitchell, founder of M.E.N.D. and mommy of Jonathan Daniel, welcomed everyone to the Walk.  An opening prayer was said followed by Nicol Sponberg, founding member of the Christian group Selah and now solo recording artist and mommy of Luke, singing "We Stand."  Her voice is as beautiful live as it is on the radio, perhaps even more so.  Then our babies were recognized by name, and we were invited to hang their personalized ornaments on the tree.  My dad joined me at the ceremony (actually, he helped set up the night before and the day of the Walk as well, almost as if he served on the committee himself - I felt so honored and blessed by his support).  My two older siblings, both born into heaven, were recognized along with Elena.  The Recognition of Babies is the longest portion of the ceremony, as sadly there are far too many babies who have died (for this year's Walk, we had 320 babies registered).  After each baby's name and dates had been called and all the ornaments hung, Nicol Sponberg sang "Resurrection" and then delivered an inspirational message, sharing her story of her beautiful son Luke who died of SIDS just weeks after attending the funeral of her baby niece Audrey Caroline (Angie & Todd Smith's daughter).  I cried the entire time she spoke.  Her message was so heartfelt and sincere.  (I also was blessed with the opportunity to speak with Nicol for a couple of minutes after the Walk, and she talked with me with such a beautiful, tender, and loving spirit - what an amazing woman!).  After her message she sang "Home," which was played at her own son's memorial service.  I cannot say enough how wonderful it was to have Nicol be part of the Walk and how blessed I feel to have been able to hear and meet her.  The balloon release concluded the ceremony.  The release is such an amazing sight, with over a thousand pink, blue, and white balloons floating towards the heavens (each person attending receives a balloon for each baby s/he is remembering, pink for baby girls, blue for baby boys, and white when unknown).

I am so grateful for the love and support I have received from M.E.N.D.  I have met so many incredible mothers (and fathers) through this organization.  While we all wish we did not share the bond we have with one another, it is such a blessing to have these parents who truly get it, who understand this journey, who recognize what a loss we have experienced, who readily acknowledge and speak about our unseen children, our babies who remain constantly in our hearts and minds no matter how much time has passed since they returned to heaven, these loving parents who provide so much support, encouragement, and hope.  Thank you, Rebekah, for founding M.E.N.D. and for all of your work and dedication, and thank you to all of my M.E.N.D. family!



 

Bagpipes lead the Walk

Rebekah welcomes guests

Nicol Sponberg sings

Elena's ornament

Ornaments for my siblings



Balloon Release

The Journey in October

This month's Journey at Still Standing snuck up on me.  It seems like I just finished writing last month's entry.  Time is such a funny thing.

Yesterday was Elena's due date anniversay.  Yesterday was hard, but not as raw as it was last year.  A year later (actually already more than 16 months later) I still feel cheated.  I suppose it's a feeling that will stay with me.  I hate dwelling on the "should's" because, really, who says what "should" and "shouldn't" be?  It sounds whiny and self-pitying, and I don't want to live in that place.  I want to find some sense of joy in life, not that I will ever "get over" my daughter, not that I will ever forget her or stop wishing that she was here, but I don't want to live in a place of hopelessness and despair.  I want to carry her loss with a sense of grace and dignity, to honor her life and ensure that something good comes from it, that her two hours here were not in vain.  I want to cling to the hope I have in Christ that I will embrace my sweet daughter again, that "He will wipe away every tear from their eyes.  There will be no more death or mourning or crying or pain..." (Revelation 21:4).  I want my life to reflect that hope.  Yet I still struggle, especially on anniversaries and holidays, with the "shoulds."

I should have been able to give Elena a huge first birthday celebration, just like her big brother had, and to watch her have her first taste of cake.  I should have a sweet one-year-old now, or should it be a 16 month old?  I struggle with that too, how old "should" Elena be?  Somewhere between 12 and 16 months, but where?  Would she be walking and saying her first words?  If she had lived, would we be dealing with significant effects of prematurity?  Would she have breezed through all of the challenges of an early birth just as her big brother did?  Not that it matters much, I would give everything to have her here, even if we did have to face some challenges.  She is my daughter, and I love her no matter what, and I want her so much!  I hate that I have to miss out on her entire life, on everything that "should have been," every milestone never to be achieved, every smile, coo, cry, word, snuggle, step, laugh.  She should have had the opportunity to experience all that life has to offer; instead, she had two hours in a delivery room inside of a hospital.  I want to give her so much more!

But where does all that get me?  Where does it get my family?  My mind goes there at times, but I try not to stay there.  I attempt to keep my focus on Home, where Elena is, where I will someday join her, where I know she is safe until I arrive there too.  And to keep my focus on the blessings I have here on earth, too numerous to even list.  And to focus on what a blessing Elena was and is, and how even if I couldn't keep her, I would not give up the time I had her for anything in the world.  That focus makes me smile, gives me a little peace, a bit of comfort, a taste of joy.  What I understand now (that I was not able to truly believe a year ago) is that feeling truly happy from time to time does not take away from Elena's memory, does not mean that I love her or miss her any less.  And I will admit that there are still times when I feel a pang of guilt when I am happy, but I no longer feel like a monster when I can find moments of happiness.

I feel like I have walked quite a distance on this grief journey and have changed immensely on the way, but I know that I am still just beginning.  I still have a long way to go.  I don't believe this grief journey will end until I am called Home.  After all, my precious daughter Elena is a huge part of who I am.  She always will be.  And for that I am truly thankful.

Due Date Anniversary

Today "should be" Elena's first birthday.  She was due the first of October, one year ago today.  I remember my preschooler's first birthday, and I so wish I was having a similar celebration for Elena today.  Instead, her birthday celebration was months ago, and instead of a big party, it was just our "little family" writing messages on balloons and releasing them into the sky, watching them soar toward the heavens until we could no longer see them, doing our best to explain to our son why his little sister was not here to eat her first piece of cake, sitting in the prayer garden thinking of all the things we wish we could say to our daughter, longing to hold her instead of settling for remembering her.  I am so glad to remember her, though, and so thankful that our little family, as well as some of our extended family and dear friends, continue to talk about her and to celebrate her life instead of trying to flee from the memories and ignore her importance.

October is Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month.  Carly Marie is hosting a Capture Your Grief photo project this month.  I decided to try to participate and took Day 1's photo this morning.  The subject for today was "Sunrise."  As I reflected on the subject, I thought about how the sunrise is a beginning.  The start of a new day.  I guess it seems a bit appropriate for me that the start of this project just happens to coincide with the day which "should have been" the day Elena's life started on earth.  We dreamed it would be the beginning of our lives with a daughter in our home.  The sunrise one year ago should have welcomed Elena to earth, and the sunrise today should have started her second year in our arms.

After Elena died, I was obviously upset (there's an understatement!), with everything and everyone.  I remember feeling a bit satisfied with the rainy, overcast day.  Good, I thought when the dreariness of the day showed itself.  It should be rainy and gloomy, just like I feel.  The sky should cry for her.  She deserves nothing less than for the world to stop and mourn her.  I was angry the day of her memorial service, the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend, angry that the weather was beautiful and that the sun dared to shine on the day we publicly remembered our precious daughter's much-too-brief life.  How dare the sun rise that day!  How dare it be a lovely day when my daughter was not here with us.  How could life go on without sweet Elena?  But it did.

The sun continues to rise, every morning, without fail.  And we continue to remember our precious daughter, constantly.  She is always in our hearts and on our minds.  We may talk about her more around anniversary dates and holidays, but we think about her even when we do not speak her name out loud.  That is as constant as the sunrise every morning.

All of our love, Sweet Baby Girl!  We look forward to our reunion and celebrating with you in eternity to make up for all we are missing with you here on earth.  Happy First "Corrected" Birthday!