A New Book

A new resource for bereaved parents has just come out in the last week. I have been wanting to write about it here for a long time, but wanted to wait until it had been officially published.

It is a collection of essays written by a group of 26 people who have lost a child, some in pregnancy, some in infancy, and some later in life.  It was written to give those that are new in their grief some hope for the future. Each essay was written to describe one aspect of life in the first year after loss.

I found out about this book when there was a call for essays to be submitted in an online group that I am a part of. The editor of the book was specifically asking for essays from fathers. I forwarded the information on to Dave. He decided to write one and out of several hundred entries, his essay was accepted to be part of the book and one of only two from the perspective of a father.

The book is now available. We are eagerly awaiting its arrival at our house, hopefully in the next couple of days.

A Christmas Thought

A thought that came to me in church this week:

Ornament Making

Every year our hospital holds an ornament making event for all the families that are part of the baby loss group and then as a group we go decorate a tree in one of the medical buildings. We each make two ornaments, one to go on a tree at the hospital and one to come home with us. This is the ornament that we made for this year.

After we were all done making our ornaments we headed over to the medical building to decorate the tree. First all the ornaments from past years were put on and then everyone took turns putting the ornament on the tree and saying who it was made for. It was another emotional day. (There have been a lot of those for me lately and I know there will be lots more in the next couple of weeks.) 

International Wave of Light

Walk to Remember 2014

Yesterday was our hospital's annual Walk to Remember for all of the babies lost there. It was a good time to meet some other families that are walking the same road as we are since most of the time at our monthly grief group it is usually just us and one or two other people. There were about 10 to 15 families there, which was not as many as I expected.

Two of the nurses that were with me while I was in the hospital with Nathaniel were there too. It was good to catch up with them and share some of the information about stillbirth that we have found.

Abby's balloon for baby brother

We were able to write a message on a sign and a balloon to release. Then we went outside and took a little walk to the memorial garden that the hospital has set up. A poem written by one of the loss moms was read, we all were able to say the names of the babies we were there for, and then we released all the balloons.

After the balloon release we went back inside and ate lots of delicious food while a few people shared their stories with the whole group. For a lot of us our losses seemed to be fairly recent. One that shared had lost their son in June and another who was there lost their daughter in September. I'm sure it was good for them to be able to share their stories. We didn't speak to the whole group, but I think both Dave and I individually spoke to a few people each.

I'm glad I went. I'm sure we will be participating for many years to come. Hopefully we are able to share some hope with the group.

Writing messages to Nathaniel

Nathaniel Bear Coming Soon

I heard about Molly Bears soon after we lost Nathaniel. I think I first looked at the website in February when I was spending hours each day finding all the baby loss and memorial websites that are out there that I had never heard about.

Molly Bears is a non-profit organization started by a loss family a few years ago. They make weighted teddy bears for families that are the exact weight of their baby that died. They make them for babies at all gestational ages and then up to 2 years old. They only accept orders one day a month and it is a limited amount, usually about 125.

When I placed my order for our Nathaniel bear there was a long waiting list. I think I was told at the time that it would about a year and a half before we would get our bear. I thought it would be fun to have the bear for Nathaniel's birthday, but was thinking that realistically that might be his 2nd birthday.

Today I got an email from Molly Bears that they have gotten up to our number on the waiting list and our Nathaniel bear is going to be made this month. I nearly cried when I read the email. I was not expecting that at all. Not this soon. It's only been about 5 months.

I'm so excited to get our bear! Abby will probably try and steal him when he gets here. I told her today that he will be coming in the mail soon. I think we are going to be anxiously checking for packages for the next couple of weeks until he gets here.

Bubbles for Colton

In the last 6 months I have met a lot of loss moms online. One I know had a stillborn boy last August, almost exactly 6 months before we lost Nathaniel. Today baby Colton would have been 1.

I see a lot of similarities between our families. We both have a living child who is about 4. We both lost our second child. Both were boys. Both were stillborn. We both have blogs. And we both have some pretty great faith.

His family is having people blow bubbles for him today and take pictures so we did. You can too. If you do, send them to me and I can pass them on to them. It would mean a lot.

A Loss is a Loss

There seems to be a hierarchy in the loss community. There are those that lost a child through an early miscarriage and then there are those that have lost a child after 20 some weeks. It seems to me that the two groups are not seen as equal. The miscarriages seem to be treated as lesser. I feel that is not right. All of them have lost a child or children. They are all hurting because of it. Losing a child is painful. A loss is a loss whether at 1 day, or 9 months, or 26 years.

For those who have had a miscarriage, people around them might not know what they are going through. They might not have told anyone about the pregnancy before the baby was gone. Their families may not even know. I would think that would be a very hard place to be. I, at least, know that nearly everyone around me knows about Nathaniel so if I am sad or can't handle a situation people might know why.

If you have lost a child, I am sorry. I might not understand exactly what you are going through, and you might not understand my situation, but ultimately we are the same. We are both a parent to a child who is not here with us. We don't need to compare our stories to know that we have both lost something that we can't get back. My situation is not better or worse than yours. We are both in pain.

My Words Are Powerful

A lot of people around me around going through some really hard things right now. Apparently I now have the authority to tell people things that would usually be ignored or disregarded. I can tell someone who says that they don't think that they will be able to make it through something terrible that they can do it. If God allowed them to be put in the situation, He will also give them the strength to get through it. Coming from me this actually means something if they know what I have gone through. It is not just something I am telling them to make them feel better. I have lived it.

I am dealing with the loss of Nathaniel day by day with lots of help from God. On my own I could not do this. Everything is so hard now. It is only with God's help that I accomplish anything.

If you are in a situation that you think you can't make it through ask God for strength. He will help you through it.

Hope for the Grieving

In the past month we have heard of two other families that have lost babies. This is just friends of people at church and our church is small.

I don't want to be the resource for families going through this, but that seems to be what God wants us to do so I contact the strangers or tell the friends that they can give out our information. I really don't want to, but I need to give people hope. That is a big reason that I started this blog.

So many people are hopeless when their child dies. Their life is over. It has no meaning. That is not us. We don't feel that way at all. If anything the loss of Nathaniel has given our lives deeper meaning and passion to help people that wasn't there before.

We can make it through this. It's terrible and it hurts, but God is good and he is with us. He will help us through this if we let him.

Finding Nathaniel

In the first couple of weeks after Nathaniel died I was on the internet a lot. I would spend hours and hours reading blogs of others who had lost babies and articles about grief. Sometimes there would be a link to some organization about stillbirth or baby loss in general. That is how I found the Star Legacy Foundation, the organization that put together the Stillbirth Summit.

On their website there are stars in the background. Each of those stars has a name of a baby attached to it. I added Nathaniel's information then I found the information about the memorials that they were doing for the babies at the Summit so I filled out his information for a star to hang there and a balloon to be released at the end. At that time I had no intention of going, but they were going to acknowledge Nathaniel's life so I needed to do it. I put his name anywhere there was a place to put it. I needed to see his name written by someone other than me. There are not many chances for that when your baby is stillborn. So far we had his name on the death certificate (though we don't get a birth certificate) and one piece of mail from a donation in his name. That is all.

At the end of the Stillbirth Summit there was a balloon release for all the babies of those who were there and those who's names had been submitted online. There were hundreds of balloons. Those that had been submitted online had the names written on them by a volunteer. If you were there you could write on a balloon for yourself.

There he is!

I hadn't looked to see if Nathaniel's balloon had been made. I couldn't remember if I had filled out the form for one for him. It had been months since I had done that and I only remembered doing the star. After lunch Dave and I were going to make a balloon for him. We walked over to the lobby where the balloons were and there his was. We didn't have to search for it. For the second time that day I had found him without trying at all.

Dave about to release Nathaniel's balloon into the sky.

Hundred of balloons flying away.

The Secret Club

I am part of a club. An exclusive club. One that no one knows about until they have to join it.

This club is wonderful, but no one really wants to be a part of it and we really never want it to get any bigger. We like everyone too much to want them in our club. We would not wish what we have gone through, the death of a baby or babies, on our worst enemies.

I have met so many wonderful women through the loss community. Most I met online and have not met in person, but we have an instant connection. We understand where the others are and what they are feeling when most of those around us don't.

I noticed this at the Stillbirth Summit. Usually talking to new people is really hard for me. There it wasn't. Everyone there had a similar story. We could talk about our babies without feeling judged or trying to hold back the tears.

When we first got to the conference there were two sessions going on at the same time. Dave went to one, I went to the other. The woman I sat next to needed something hard to write on and I had Abby's book in my purse so I gave it to her to use. After we were done with the session she gave it back to me and asked about it. I told her how I had written it for Abby and she told me that she had a 6 year old and had just lost her second child last year. We talked about how hard it is to be a parent to our other children when you are grieving and how hard it is to have to tell them over and over again that their baby brother or sister is not ever coming home. I felt like we were instant friends though we might never see each other again. I felt this way with every single person that I met while we were there.

So Many Families Missing Babies

The other day we got a newsletter from our grief group at the hospital. It was the first one we have gotten so I didn't know what to expect. It was surprisingly thick because in it there was a list of all the families that are part of the group and the names of the babies that they lost. I counted all of them and there were 190 babies listed. I was surprised that there were so many. I have only seen two other people at the group when we have gone.

So many babies lost. So many families hurting and that is just from one hospital. Nathaniel was the only one listed from this year. I hope that no more names will ever be added to the list, but I know that is not realistic. There will be more. Probably this year.

Everything is Too Easy Sometimes

It might sound strange, but sometimes I think that my life is too easy right now. Usually the thought comes to me when I am somewhere fun with Abby, like the children's museum or the pool. I should be the mom juggling nursing her baby while making sure the preschooler doesn't dart off somewhere, but I'm not. I can play with her or just sit on a bench and watch her play with the other kids. So sometimes I sit and watch, thinking about what I thought life was going to be like and it makes me sad.

Other days I'm grateful for the easiness. I'm a little sick right now. With a baby I would not be getting as much sleep at night and I would have many more things to do during the day. Abby can be self sufficient most of the time. She knows how to turn on the TV and where her yogurts are in the refrigerator so if I need extra sleep I can have it. She will be fine. She will come get me if she needs something and then I can go back to sleep.

I can exercise. Every day if I want to. I know this is not something everyone can do. I'm grateful for it. It's helping me from feeling crazy. I can do an exercise video at home while Abby is "napping" or I can go for a 23 mile bike ride by myself and not have to worry about needing to be home at a certain time to feed a baby.

I can spend hours writing and connecting with people online. Maybe I would be able to do that with a baby maybe not.

I'm choosing to see the positives, but it's hard. It helps a little. Sometimes.

A Heart to Hang on the Tree

I make handmade paper. One Christmas I made each member of my extended family and Dave's extended family a personalized ornament. Since then I have made a new one for each new baby that has come. This year I am planning on making all of my family Nathaniel ornaments out of recycled paper that I associate with him (envelopes from sympathy cards, his registry printout, receipts, etc) and flowers from the memorial service. Each family will get one. I haven't started on them yet. I will soon.

I also thought of making ornaments for my loss friends. The idea in my head was that they could give me a few things, if they had them, and I would make them into an ornament that they could keep forever.

It seemed like a good idea. I just didn't know how much paper I would need to make one ornament. I have never made just one. I was making lots at a time. The other day, while Abby was napping, I decided to make one for the family of baby Edward. I had the program from his funeral service and a few other pieces of paper that I associated with him. I also added a page from the baby brother book that was sitting on the desk.

Here's what I started with: 2 1/2 pieces of paper and a blue envelope that I had. I added 1/2 a sheet of blue tissue paper so that they would end up with a little more color.

I was able to make either 3 big hearts or maybe 12 little ones. That's more than I expected.

Now I know I can make something special for someone who is hurting even if they don't have much to give me. One or two pieces of paper that have meaning to them can make a beautiful memorial for the one they have lost.

The finished product. I think it turned out well.

For the family of baby Edward.
All ready to go in the mail.
They don't know about it. Hopefully it brightens their day when they get it.

I See Loss Everywhere

I read a lot of books. I don't recall reading much about dying babies or children in the books I chose in the past. Since Nathaniel died, I think every single book has the death of a child somewhere in it.  I didn't choose the books because they were about baby loss. They weren't about that, at least not according to the summary on the inside cover. They were random novels chosen mostly from the new book section at the library. One was a young adult bestseller.

In the book I am reading now a mother loses a baby on page one, sentence number four. It really isn't terribly relevant to the story so maybe had I read it four months ago I would have not remembered it. Now it sticks out. Am I just more sensitised to it now or is it really everywhere?

People lose babies all the time. It's really fairly normal. I guess I shouldn't be surprised that now that I am living it that I should see it everywhere I look.

We Are Unusual

I know that how we have dealt with the loss of Nathaniel is not normal. It hasn't been normal from the beginning. We noticed this at the hospital. Everyone there noticed it too and quite a few of our doctors and nurses commented on it. We were sad, obviously. Our son had died, but we had hope and chose to see the little good things in the midst of our terrible circumstances.

God is always good. He was with us and we were going to be ok. We felt that God was going to use us and Nathaniel to tell people about Him. It was and is exciting and terrifying at the same time.

We invited everyone to the memorial service: nurses, doctors, friends, coworkers, family. When we were meeting with the funeral home they were surprised that we were going to even have a service. I think they didn't expect anyone to show up for the service of a baby that no one had ever met. But they did. We knew they would.

About 125 people showed up. Dave and I didn't even have a chance to talk to them all before the service started. The funeral home kept having to get more chairs to put in the chapel and when that was full they opened up an overflow area next to it.

So many people showed up to support us and they all heard that God loves them and that they can some day see Nathaniel in heaven.

Last weekend Dave and I went to the service of another little boy who died of SIDS at about three months old. He was born about two weeks before Nathaniel. His mom works with Dave and had come to the service for Nathaniel. Their service was so different from ours. It was a Catholic mass. It didn't seem terribly hope filled to me. And to me the biggest difference, there were probably only 30 people there, at least half of which were family.

Here was another boy who lived and died too soon. People had been able to meet him and know him, but they didn't come to the service to support the family. I had only met the mom once, at Nathaniel's service. I didn't remember her, but when Dave told me that her son had died there was no question about going to the service. We were going. We were going to support them and we will remember them in a month or two when all the cards stop and it feels like everyone has forgotten.

We didn't know him, but we will not forget him.

Hats and Blankets

There is a group at the hospital for the parents of babies lost to miscarriage, stillbirth, SIDS, etc. The woman who is facilitating the group now had a daughter who was stillborn in February of 2010. For remembrance of Hannah's birthday she was collecting blankets to donate to the hospital for other families that go through what we have gone through. We were given blankets at the hospital for Nathaniel, but they weren't really for stillborn babies. They were supposed to be for sick kids, but that was what was available. There isn't much that is given to hospitals for full term, normal size infants. They are supposed to be going home.

Since I crochet, I decided that I was going to make some blankets to donate. It was something I was thinking about doing already, but now I had an easy way to donate them. I already had some little puppy hats made like we had brought to the hospital for Nathaniel. I made a blanket to coordinate with each of the hats. One for a girl, one for a boy, and a gender neutral one. I hope no one ever has to use these hats or blankets, but I realize that is probably not the case.

A Letter From Daddy

Dave told me I could share his letter to Nathaniel with you so here it is. I will also put it on the page with mine.

Dearest Nathaniel,

I was all ready to share with you two very important topics you would need to know. The first is a need for a savior. Nathaniel you are always going to be perfect. No sin in this life but being born, the condition is you are born into sin. But God so loved the world that He gave us a savior. You are there with Jesus now. Anything else I have to tell you about our savior you already know. When I sat down with you to explain more one evening I stopped. I realized you could actually tell me more  about Him than I could tell you about Him. The second thing I had to tell you is that mommy and daddy love you so very much. That is why this is so hard. I had so many things I was looking forward to teaching you. So many things to experience with you. I was also looking forward to so many things you would share with me. 

The other day Abby was talking about baby brother. When she said you were not coming home as we had told her before. I asked her if she remembered where you were. She said we left you at the dentist. I suppose if you're at the dentist you'd have some very clean, white teeth. Maybe you can help her brush her teeth. What she remembers is that mommy had a dentist appointment the day before you were born, and Abby went with. To her, you must have slipped out of mommy's tummy there and that is how we lost you.

Oh to be able to go pick you up from there or anywhere would be wonderful. But that is not our reality. You got to go to heaven before me. Heaven is a place I know I will one day experience. To know that you are there makes it even more special. That I can meet my savior, and see you there will be awesome. We can one day share in that and I treasure that notion.

To Abby, you were going to come out walking, and loving to play trains, and wanting to play with rubber duckies in the bathtub. To me, you were going to love our early mornings while mommy slept in. We'd talk about God, how to be nice to mommy and your sister, and what it means to grow up. 

Nathaniel, you will be remembered. You will always be a blessing. You will always be loved. I can close my eyes and see you in my arms. Perfectly formed, perfectly loved, and since your birth experiencing perfect love.


With love, 
your daddy

Mother's Day is Just Like Every Other Day

Sunday was Mother's Day. It wasn't too bad. I was expecting to feel much worse. After church a good friend came up and gave me a hug and asked me how I was doing. I told him I was ok. He said that he knew today was hard for me. And then he said something like "every day is hard, isn't it?". I told him that it was. I'm glad that he acknowledged that not just the holidays are hard without your child. Every single day is a day without Nathaniel. Every day is hard.

I miss him.

I miss him when I wake up in the morning

I miss him when I go to sleep at night

I miss him when I am playing at the park with Abby

I miss him when I see babies at story time at the library

I miss him at church

I miss him when I do things all by myself

I miss him when we do fun things as a family

I miss him on the sixth of every month

I miss him when I talk about him to friends and family

I miss him when I don't talk about him to people I have just met

I miss him every time I walk past his room

I miss him when Abby takes things out of his room that she isn't supposed to have to play with

I miss him when I see pictures of babies

I miss him when I watch TV

I miss him when I look at the scar from my IV or c section

I miss him when I get something from the pantry and see his picture on the wall

I just miss him.

And I will miss him every day for the rest of my life.