loving maddie & ava

In order to move forward in life, you have to let go... it doesn't mean that whatever happened didn't have meaning, it just means that you made peace with it.

I’m the Lady Whose baby Died

I see the look of pity cross your face,
Can see the apprehension in your eye,
To you I am now just a status,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,
I know you don’t want to talk,
If you can you will rush on by,
So you don’t have to be reminded,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,
You think how can I mention?
If I do then will she cry?
So it’s a curse hello as you pass me by,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,
My heart it breaks just a little more,
It hurts me I can not lie,
You see forever now I will be known as,
I’m the lady, whose baby died,

Christine Bevington 2011

 

The Pit
The day my child died, I fell into the pit of grief. My friends watched me struggle through daily life, waiting for the person I once was to arise from the pit, not realizing "she" is gone forever.

The pit is full of darkness, heartache and despair, it paralyzes your thoughts, movements and ability to ration. The pit leaves you forever changed, unable to surface the person you once were.

Some of my pre-grief friends gather around the top of the pit, waiting for the old me to appear before their eyes, not understanding what's taking me so long to emerge. After all, in their eyes, I've been in the pit for quite sometime. Yet in my eyes, it seems as if I fell in only yesterday.

Not all of my pre-grief friends are gathered around the top of the pit. Some are helping me with the climb out of the darkness. They climb side by side with me from time to time, but mostly they climb ahead of me, waiting patiently at each plateau. Even with these friends I sometimes wonder if they are also waiting for the pre-grief me to magically appear before their eyes.

Then there are the casual acquaintances, you know the ones who say, "Hi, how are you?" when they really don't care or really want to know. These are the people who sigh in relief, that it is my child who died and not theirs. You know...the "better them, than me" attitude.

My post-grief friends (and a rare pre-grief friend) are the ones who climb with me, side by side, inch by inch, out of the pit with me. They are able to reassure me when I need reassurance, rest when I need resting, and encourage me to move forward when I don't have the strength. They have no expectations, no memories and no recollection of how I "should" be. They want me to get better, to smile more often and find joy in life, but they also accepted the person I've become. The "person" who is emerging from the pit

Author Unknown
 

I've been feeling kind of blah lately. Kind of sad, kind of feeling sorry for myself. I'm not pregnant. My baby is dead. Woe is me. But I HATE feeling that way. That's why I'm writing, I guess, to help purge some of these feelings.

I am having a hard time forgiving myself...for what exactly, I'm not sure. I know in my brain I did everything I possibly could to ensure Maddie would be born healthy. I simply didn't know my body was working against me and forming too many clots in my placenta. No amount of anyone telling me that I did everything right helps, either. I just have to get my head and heart in the same place.

I need to "process" all the stuff that makes me catch my breath and hurt. I'm not sure what process really means...does that mean I am able to talk about it without crying? Or does that mean I just accept all the nasty, nitty gritty stuff that bothers me and eventually it doesn't bother me as much?

This path to parenthood really sucks. I hate feeling negative and sad...but I know I have to work through it to be a good wife, daughter, mom to Maddie and any other babies...avoiding it and burying it are not healthy and just prolong the pain.


I will follow you into the dark...cover by Christina Perri

 I haven't written in a bit. Lately things feel more on the up swing, thankfully. Hubby and I went to Faith's Lodge a few weeks ago--right before they suffered so much destruction from the tornado. I am so thankful we were able to enjoy it in its original beauty...

www.faithslodge.org if you're not familiar with what they have to offer.

My close work friend had her baby. I held the little guy and my world didn't stop. In fact, I am rather looking forward to holding him again. I think that's progress.

I have been seeing a therapist every couple weeks...she just gets it...even though she's not a BLM. We had to set goals for our meetings and my big goal was to just get through the first year with my sanity intact.

A fellow BLM had her rainbow baby today...everyone is safe and sound. Thank God for that.
As I was logging in to type a little, this came up in my feed. Hi, Maddie! Mommy loves you and misses you, too.

http://www.hopecollage.org/2011/07/madalyn-janice.html

I really was smiling through the tears.