Someone Remembered Her

I was up late a few nights ago and it got me thinking...

It's late. My son is sleeping peacefully in his cot and my husband is asleep beside me. The late hour means that is dark, and something about the darkness and being the sole person awake makes me feel reflective. I feel like I should be sad that my daughter died, normally that is how I feel. But I cannot feel that sadness because today is different.

Today, someone remembered her.

Today, someone bought me an Easter egg for each of my babies; one blue, one pink. Of course, neither baby is able to eat their egg. That job falls to me and my husband (what a shame). But that doesn't matter. What matters is that someone not only remembered, but also included, Ariella today. 

Because of that simple gesture today, I can sleep peacefully tonight. Because of that pink Easter egg, I'm going to sleep with a smile on my face. 

2013

2013.

At midnight on December 31 2012, I stood with some of my closest friends on a beach, laughing as we tried madly to light sparklers with no success and then tried to get some flame from another group on the beach. As we watched the fireworks to the north and south of us I was full of anticipation for 2013. In one sense, it was a year of unknown: was Baby going to be a girl or a boy? Would they come early or late? What job would my husband find? How would I handle life with a newborn? But in another sense, I thought I knew what 2013 would hold: a baby.

And I suppose it did. Our sweet Ariella Jade was born at 9am on January 30 and we got to spend two whole days with her. Our baby; our forever baby.

That’s why I’m not ready to say goodbye to 2013. It will always be the only year in which we got to hold our daughter. I cannot say it was the worst year of my life, because it contained some of the best moments of my life. In 2013 we got to meet our baby, hold her, name her and create memories with her. In no other year will I get to clothe her, snuggle her or read to her, so 2013 cannot be all bad. In addition to that, I’ve spent 37 weeks of 2013 pregnant with Baby #2; it’s been hard and draining, but also wonderful. Feeling a little life wriggle about and knowing that at least one of my children is alive. I cannot say 2013 has been all bad. On the flipside, 2013 also contained the worst moments of my life: the drive to the hospital assuming that our baby had died, the confirmation ultrasound, leaving the hospital room and later, the funeral home.

When I stood on the beach one year ago, I had no idea what would occur exactly 4 weeks later. I miss that innocence, thinking that the worst that could happen was that our sparklers wouldn’t light and that 2013 was going to be an incredible year. I guess all I can say is that it has been an incredible roller coaster.

When Wishes Come True

A week ago, I celebrated my birthday. And it truly was worth celebrating, because of all of YOU wonderful people. Three weeks before my birthday, I blogged about how I was dreading my birthday without Ariella. I wrote about how just the thought of my birthday was enough to make me get teary, until I decided that I wanted to make this birthday count. I shared with you my birthday wish - to raise enough money to donate a Heartfelt Camera Kit to a hospital in need.

I am so, so excited to say that my wish came true. As of today, we have raised $2,020 for Heartfelt! That's two kits and then some!! Two hospitals that will receive a great camera and a session with Heartfelt, two hospitals that will be able to provide bereaved parents with precious photographic memories of their darling babies. And Ariella's name and birthday will be engraved on those cameras. The fundraising page is open for 30 more days, so if you want to donate, you still can. Perhaps we can reach the amount needed for a third kit ($560 to go), but if we can't, that money will still go to Heartfelt and supporting their work. They are an amazing organisation and I am so grateful for them.

(PS - If you did still want to donate, click here to donate via credit card, or send me an email - loveisdeeperstill AT gmail DOT com - and I can send you PayPal details.)

As a result of the amazing generosity of family and friends, I could smile on my birthday. I actually had a really lovely day with my husband (including a delicious lunch at Fasta Pasta!). It was just a quiet day, but it was just perfect. And I smiled whenever I thought of the Heartfelt Camera Kits, knowing the difference they will make.

So even though this is one week late, I just wanted to say thank you to those who helped make my day one filled with smiles instead of tears. I'm so grateful to each and every one of you.

How to catch a dragonfly

Once upon a time there was a baby girl. Baby Girl was so loved and wanted by everyone who knew she was on her way and her arrival was eagerly anticipated. Baby Girl's Mama and Daddy were devastated to learn that her heart had stopped beating before her lungs even got the chance to breathe.

After Mama and Daddy spent some time with their little one, Baby Girl was buried and her parents set about the task of making her special place look as special as it could. A bunch of bright pink fake hibiscus flowers was placed there, so her place would never be without some colour. A beautiful granite plaque was ordered and set in place, forever acknowledging Baby Girl's life. Mama and Daddy visited regularly, bringing fresh flowers for their Baby Girl. But something was still missing. 

One day, Mama visited Baby Girl at dusk. She noticed that many other parents had placed solar lights with their babies, lighting up the area and adding a touch of beauty to an otherwise sad place. And that's when she decided that a solar light would be a perfect addition to Baby Girl's special place. Daddy agreed, and the search began. 

For months Mama and Daddy casually looked in the shops, searching for the perfect light. And then one day, they found it! A beautiful pink and yellow dragonfly, with blue eyes (just like Baby Girl). Not only would this light be beautiful at night, the colour in the dragonfly ensured it would look beautiful in the sun too. Mama and Daddy were very excited to have finally found the right light for Baby Girl. They decided to buy two dragonflies - one for Baby Girl's special place and a matching one for their garden. That way, they could look out of their kitchen window each day, see their dragonfly and know a matching one was with Baby Girl. 

The day came when Mama and Daddy could go visit Baby Girl's special spot to place the dragonfly. It looked as perfect as they had hoped! Mama and Daddy left, happy to have a light for Baby Girl. They couldn't wait to come back at dusk one day and see the dragonfly lit up, joining the other babies' lights shining over their special places. 

But when Mama and Daddy returned to Baby Girl's special place a week later, they were devastated to find the dragonfly missing. They searched the area, hoping that it had simply blown away in the wind. But they had no success; their dragonfly had gone. Mama and Daddy had heard of things being stolen from graves but they never thought it would happen to Baby Girl's grave. But it had. 

Feeling pretty miserable, Mama and Daddy decided to go back to the shop to buy Baby Girl another dragonfly, as well as one to keep as a spare. But when they looked in the shops, Baby Girl's dragonfly was no where to be seen. Three stores were searched and three stores did not have them. Mama and Daddy decided to talk to someone at the store to see if more dragonflies could be ordered in, only to be told that the dragonflies were a promotional item and would not be back in stock. Mama was particularly upset. Months of searching had gone into finding those lights, only to be undone by one heartless act. The matching dragonfly at their home no longer reminded her of precious Baby Girl, but of one person's callous act. 

Unsure of what to do and desperate for a matching light, Mama went to the one place she knew people would understand her pain - the online community of Sands Parents. The support Mummy had found in this group of baby loss parents had been so valuable in the past and she knew it wouldn't fail her now. She was right. The response she got when she asked people to look in the local stores was overwhelming; so many people around Australia were going to look for Baby Girl's dragonfly, with one lady even asking her friends to look also. Their loving response helped restore Mama’s faith in humanity. 

After posting her request in the Facebook group, Mama noticed that a friend in her home town was currently at a store that sold the lights. She hastily sent a message, practically begging him to look for the dragonfly. When he was unsuccessful in finding a matching one, he instead purchased a similar set to send and found out which stores would offer the best chance of finding the right one. The lights he sent now shine brightly outside of what would have been Baby Girl's room at home, a reminder of people's generosity. 

In the meantime, the search for Baby Girl's dragonfly contined around Australia. Members of the Sands community searched their local stores, sharing Baby Girl's story in the hope of locating a matching dragonfly. Mama asked another online community (this one based in her home town) to try their local stores. Once again, the response brought her to tears. No one locally was able to find a matching dragonfly, but the fact that they had searched the stores meant more to Mama than they will ever know. 

Then one morning, Mama checked her phone messages to see this:

One of Mama’s closest friends, and a member of the Sands community, had found Baby Girl's dragonfly! It was all Mama could do not to become a blubbering mess in the middle of the supermarket. Baby Girl could have her dragonfly back! Everyone in the Sands community rejoiced with Mama, so happy that Baby Girl's dragonfly had been found. 

In total, three of Baby Girl's dragonflies have been sent to Mama and Daddy, along with the two pretty-but-not-the-same dragonflies sent by their local friend. Not only will a dragonfly once again light up Baby Girl's special place, but Mama and Daddy will have a garden of dragonflies to constantly remind them of the love and support shown by the communities they are in. 

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you catch a dragonfly.

If only life had a DRS...

Any cricket fans out there will probably know of the DRS - the Decision Review System that allows players to review umpiring decisions that they think were wrong. It's on my mind today given the result of the England v. Australia match that finished last night...with a win to England after they used the DRS to successfully challenge the umpire's decision.


Sometimes I wish life had a Decision Review System. When someone says something inappropriate, I could just ask for a review and they would be forced to take it back. Or when someone does something hurtful, I could refer that action to the DRS and they would be told by a higher power that their decision was wrong and that they need to take it back.

But then I think, it would have to work both ways. At one point or another, it would be my actions being referred. That time I was grumpy? Sorry, not the right attitude - take it back. Or when I lost my patience with someone? Not the right thing to do - go back and try again.

*sigh*

The more I think about it, the more I realise that as a Christian, I do have something along the lines of a DRS in my life. I believe that God the Holy Spirit lives in me, and He is the one giving the little nudges I feel when I get grumpy, lose my patience, or do something else wrong. Being a Christian doesn't make me perfect - far from it! But it does mean that I do have someone prompting me when my decisions and actions need reviewing. It's pretty humbling to have to apologise for something a few days later, after realising it was wrong. But I'd rather be humbled that way, then live knowing I was in the wrong and did nothing to clear it.

The part I find hardest is when I am on the receiving end of someone else's comment or action that was wrong or hurtful. Let's just say that people often "put their foot in it" when it comes to stillbirth and subsequent pregnancy. Sometimes I wonder if being open with somethings on my blog make people think that any aspect of my life and emotions is up for discussion. It's not. I'm actually a fairly private person, and unless you are one of my closer friends, it's unlikely that I want to go into detail about things with you...especially if I haven't written about it on my blog. So why is it so hard to tell someone "I don't actually want to discuss that with you" or "I was hurt by what you said"? It's times like that when I really wish I could just signal for a decision review and have someone else jump in to tell them they need to change what they said or did.

But I guess life's not cricket!

Twenty things

This week I'm helping out at a Kids Club that our church is running, and today I had to tell the children three things about me including one thing that was a lie. It was pretty funny to see their guesses as to which statement was a lie (I'd say half guessed correctly), and it made me think of some other random things about me that people may or may not know. So here you are, twenty things about me that you may not have known:

1) I used to be able to break-dance. Not a lot, but after six months of lessons, you pick up a few things! But that was five years ago, and I haven't done any since...so don't ask me to perform for you!

2) I have never been on a roller-coaster. The closest I've come is the old Mad Mouse ride at the Adelaide Show, but I really don't think that counts. There was no loops and it didn't even go that fast. But I have to admit, I don't have a strong desire to go on one!

3) I've been fishing four times. Twice I caught nothing, one time we were fishing for tommies, so they were quite small. And one time I caught an 81cm, 7kg barra! People don't often believe that one, so here's the proof:

Ta-da!!

4) I have sung on stage with the Grammy Award winning band Audio Adrenaline. Sure, it was only one chorus of one song, but nevertheless...I was pulled onto the stage at a concert about 8 or 9 years ago, and go to sing a chorus of the song Beautiful while the band played. It was quite exciting, as they were my favourite band.

5) I hate singing in front of people. Alone in the car or shower, I love singing and do it a lot. But stick me in front of people, and I'm terrified. I don't know exactly how that fits with the last point, but I guess the excitement of the moment got me through!

6) The most unique thing I think I've ever eaten is kangaroo tail. It was chopped into sections (fur still attached), wrapped in foil and placed under the coals of a fire. It was exceptionally hard to peel off the hot fur without burning my fingers, and after I managed to do that I discovered that I really didn't like the taste. Oh well!

7) I have been to Uluru (Ayres Rock) but chose not to climb it. Instead, we walked around the base, and that rock is incredible!

8) I have been to extremely remote parts of the Philippines (up in the mountain ranges, where the Japanese were stopped during WWII and also where they signed their official surrender), but I have not been to Sydney.

9) There is a joke in my home town that no matter where you go, you will run into someone who knows you or knows a friend. Even in a city of 1 million people, this seems very true. When I went to the Philippines in 2008, we travelled to a rather remote village (see point 8), and I met an older lady named Lumen. When she heard where I was from, she seemed quite interested. It turns out she knew a lady who lived here. And guess what... I knew her too. I had travelled 10 hours by plane, and another 14 or so by bus away from home, and STILL met someone who knew a friend of mine. Crazy!

Sitting with Lumen at a dinner celebration

10) I don't keep a lot of non-practical clothes, but I have four formal dresses, two bridesmaid dresses and one wedding dress. Other than a couple of the formal dresses, they've all only been wore once, but I do not want to get rid of them!

11) I learnt on my wedding day to be careful how many faces you pull, because there will almost always be a camera pointed to you. For example:

*sigh* What was I doing??

12) I still remember exactly where I was when I heard the news that my sister was going in for a c-section with my nephew; that phone call is clearer in my mind than the one we received telling us that he had arrived! I was with her and her hubby for my niece's birth, so no phone calls to remember for that one!

13) Many of you would know this, but there are three things I detest: coffee, bacon and swans. And friends have a habit of taking photos of swans and tagging me in them on Facebook. Alyce and Naomi, I'm looking at you. Thanks...not!

14) I would love to go diving with a great white shark, provided I was in a cage. But I think the closest I've come to doing something like that was holding a crocodile...a baby one...whose jaw was tied shut...

In Broome, Western Australia

15) There is no way you could ever convince me to bungee jump. But I'd absolutely love to go sky-diving!

16) I'm allergic to dishwashing liquid. Seriously! So if you ever ask me to wash the dishes, I will flat-out refuse, unless you have gloves for me to use.

17) I always said I'd never be a teacher. Both my mum and sister are teachers, so I wonder if that had anything to do with it. But what do I do for a job now? Homeschool teacher. Dad seemed to think it was pretty funny, and so do I. I still have absolutely no desire to be a classroom teacher though.

18) I love reading and do so pretty quickly. Just this afternoon I read an entire book, and it was quite good! I read fiction much quicker than non-fiction, unless it's a biography. That's my favourite genre.

19) One of my closest friends and I disagree on many theological issues, but I don't think it has ever impacted our friendship. It can be quite funny, and we've had a number of pleasant discussions about our differences. Neither of us will change the other one's mind, but lunch breaks at college would always be more interesting if we were doing an essay on one of those issues!

20) I feel pretty blessed to be able to say that I don't have one "best friend". I have a number of close friends, without whom my life would be very different. I'm thankful for all of them, especially my sister. I know that not everyone has a relationship with their sibling like I do with mine, so I'm very grateful.

Love you Alyce!

Help

Asking for help. 

I don't know why, but that is something that I find very hard to do. I've been thinking about why I find it so hard, and I've come to a conclusion: it's because I don't want to burden other people with my needs. 

Yes, I know. That's ridiculous. When someone asks me for help, or even vaguely mentions a need, I start to think of ways I can help. I don't react by thinking they are a burden! So why should I assume that people would do the same for me? It's not fair to my friends to think that, because it means I am underestimating their care and compassion. So I want to say this:

I'm sorry it has taken me so long to ask widely for help. 

On Sunday I asked (via Facebook) if any friends could make us some meals, because I struggle to cook (side-effect of grief) and Marcus is working everyday. I hate knowing that he's going to come home from a full day of work only to have to both look after me and cook. I wish I could make it easier for him, but I just cannot handle having to cook. It's strange, but true. So, after having sporadically mentioned to friends/family that I needed help, I realised that wasn't enough. So I asked broadly. I was blown away by how many responded, and by who responded. It wasn't just the people that I see regularly, it was also people I haven't seen in years! I felt truly blessed by people's offers of help, and I know Marcus will enjoy the break from cooking the meals will bring. 

Initially, after Ariella's birth, we had almost too many offers of help - we didn't know what to do with them all. I was saddened to realise a few months later that we hadn't accepted offers from some our closest friends. People wanted to help then, and although 4.5 months have passed, I shouldn't have assumed that people no longer wanted to help. 

Asking for help. It's hard. It's humbling. But I'm learning that it's worth it. 

Struggles

I read an article on the Still Standing website today that was quite good; it was called Letting Death be Your Teacher. It's somewhat confronting to read my own thoughts, but written by someone else in a much more eloquent way than I would be able to:

I know death has changed me when prayer is war. How do you love and praise Someone whom you feel so deeply betrayed you? Or, perhaps worse, seems to have forgotten about you?

I know death has changed me when life seems like the exception, and death seems like the rule.

I know death has changed me when I choose to fight with God in prayer. I give Him my pain. My betrayal. My anger. And I place my bruised, bleeding heart into His perfect hands. He doesn't heal my hurt. But He does always hold it for me.

The author lists a number of things, but these three are what got me. Sometimes I worry that I come across as not having any issues with the fact that God didn't heal Ariella. That because I say "his love is deeper still" or "God is still good" that somehow I'm this perfect Christian, even though I've been through the worst thing a parent could.

It's not true.

I struggle. A lot. More than I care to admit sometimes. I've never once doubted that God is still God, or that He is still good. He is. And that's why I have problems. If He wasn't good, I could not have expected Him (or even asked Him) to re-start Ariella's heart. But He is good. Therefore, I (subconsciously) expect Him to do what I say is good. 

And that's why I have to fight with God in prayer, just like the quote above says. Because I am in pain. I do feel betrayed. And I do feel angry. My heart is bruised, and sometimes I worry that it will never stop bleeding. But the reason I can do that, the reason I can come to Him, is because He is still good. He is bringing good out of this situation. And I'm thankful for that. For example,  the makers of Return To Zero - the movie I blogged about here - were hoping to reach 50,000 pledges before the meeting with Hollywood. They reached 56,000+!! Ariella's death is helping to break the silence surrounding pregnancy loss. I'm grateful for that. I'm grateful for the friends who have told me how their life has changed since January 30, because of Ariella's story. I'm grateful for the people I have connected with in ways that I probably wouldn't have otherwise. Sarah. Heather. Brittany. Annika. Marsha. To name just a few. Precious friendships God has brought into my life (or deepened) because of Ariella. 

Don't get me wrong, when it all boils down, I'd rather have my daughter in my arms still. I don't have that, but I do have God, who, despite my pain, anger and betrayal, is still good. 

Overwhelmed by Love

I have a confession to make. I was dreading Mothers Day, not because my Ariella isn't with me, but because I was scared that people wouldn't acknowledge me and my little girl. Looking back now, I don't know why I was worried. My friends and family are amazing. I should have known that they would be there for me.

I was tossing up whether to name this post overwhelmed by love or I should have known. Both are true, but I decided to go for the first one. Soon after Ariella's birth, I said on Facebook that I was overwhelmed by love, as it seemed the best way to express how loved, cared for and prayed for that I felt in those difficult days. And I feel the exact same way now. Flowers, cards, gifts, messages, emails - friends went out of their way to let me know that they were thinking of me, that I wasn't alone, and that they missed my Ariella too. Among other things, I received a key-ring with her name on it (there's something very special about seeing her name) and a couple of lion-related things (her name means lioness of God). I have a cold, so smells are a bit dulled at the moment. Even so, my lounge room smells amazing from the flowers people gave me. (Some were anonymous, so I don't know who to thank. If it was you...thank you!)

To all my friends and family who thought of me yesterday, thank you. I don't think I can adequately express how much it meant to me. I truly am overwhelmed by love.

A gift from a dear friend: "Ariella Jade, Forever Loved"

Because sometimes, you just need a smile

The other night I was feeling a bit down - it wasn't just about Ariella, but some other things just weren't working out how I'd hoped. So I asked on Facebook for people to cheer me up by sharing some jokes. I'm a MASSIVE fan of corny jokes, so most of the were right up my alley! Here are some of my favourites, for when you need a smile (or eye-roll):

Did you hear that Oxygen and Potassium went on a date?
     It went OK.

A magician was driving down the road, and then suddenly he turned into a driveway.

Why did the toilet paper roll down the hill?
     To get to the bottom.

Why did the jellybean go to school?
     He wanted to be a smartie.

What did the green grape say to the purple grape?
     Breathe idiot, breathe!


And the following video, which my grandpa showed me, made me giggle quite a lot!

Remembering them

Today is International Bereaved Mothers Day. I'd never heard of it until recently. The story behind it is basically this: Mothers Day (the traditional one) was started by a woman named Anna, in honour of her mother Ann, who had lost seven babies. Somewhere along the line it's shifted from being a day that lovingly celebrates all mums, to a day that makes card companies and florists a ton of money. Have you ever tried finding a Mothers Day card for a bereaved mum? I have, due to a card exchange I'm participating in. And it was ridiculously hard! Two different shops (including a newsagency that had heaps of cards), and I found one that was just good enough. Mothers Day was founded by someone honouring their own bereaved mum, and now they aren't really catered for at all. Hence, International Bereaved Mothers Day was founded.

In honour of that, today I'm thinking today of these precious babes that I'll meet one day in Heaven.

And the precious babies gone too soon, whose names I do not know but whose short existence I will always remember.

Practical ways to help

People have told me that they don't know what to do to help when a baby dies. This picture, from Life:Rearranged sums it up pretty well:

I really liked this picture when I saw it, because it's SO accurate. I think 2 and 3 can go together a lot of the time: know when the baby was born, and be aware that it could be a hard day each time that date pops up. For example, Ariella was born on the 30th, and I've found the 30th of each subsequent month hard. I also find the 28th hard, because that is when we heard that she had died. 

Number four is also important. The support is most obvious soon after the baby's birth/death, and slowly tapers off. I am very thankful that people are still continuing to check in on us, three months down the track. One thing in particular that makes me smile is getting notes in the mail. I absolutely LOVE opening the letterbox to find a card, letter or note in there. 

Number six is perhaps the one that people find most difficult. It's easy to say "do something" - but what exactly to do? Here are a few ideas:

• Make a meal. Be aware of any allergies, intolerances or strong dislikes. It's easiest if it can be frozen, as it means there is no rush for the parents to eat it. If it can't be frozen, arrange a date to drop the meal off. That way the parents know they will have a meal that night, and won't have something already prepared. If there is a person or church who can collect meals, that's great, as it means the parents aren't having lots of people on their doorstep wanting to chat. On that note, if you do drop a meal off in person, be considerate in terms of how long you stay. We never had anyone overstay or linger, which was brilliant. Also, if you have children, please be aware that the parents may or may not be comfortable seeing them. It's worth checking with them, even if that feels awkward.
• Offer to do the grocery shopping, or arrange some food deliveries. For a few weeks after Ariella was born, going to the shops was terrifying. Not only is it likely that there will be babies around, you might run into someone you know. The idea of unexpectedly seeing people was too confronting for me, and it actually did happen once. I'm not sure if that couple even knew we'd had a baby, as I hadn't seen them since early pregnancy (before I had a bump). To make it worse...they were carrying a baby in a capsule. A group of friends got together to organise 5 weeks worth of fruit and veg deliveries for us - it was amazing. Not having to think about going to the shops for fresh food quite literally took a weight of my mind.
• Consider giving financially. We were overwhelmed by people's generosity when it came to finances. It's slightly different if there was a miscarriage, but once a baby is over 20 weeks, the law requires them to have a proper burial/cremation, which can be quite expensive. You could offer to help pay for that, but don't be offended if the parents say no, they may feel like it is something they need to pay for themselves. The Dad may be taking time off from work, and depending on the job, it might be unpaid leave. 
• Send flowers - I know of mums who didn't like receiving flowers, because flowers eventually die (and they've already dealt with more than enough death). Personally, I loved receiving flowers. The brightened our lounge-room, and smelt wonderful. 
• I've mentioned this briefly above, but send a letter, card, or short note. Text messages or emails are great, but to post something takes a little bit more time and thought, and I love knowing that someone has been thinking about us and Ariella. Plus you get to keep cards and read through them whenever you want, without worrying about things like if your phone's memory is full. 
• Offer to do jobs or chores. If the loss was due to stillbirth, the mum will be recovering from birth, which has all sorts of physical implications (whether there was any damage done during birth or not). Please be aware that the mum's body will be acting as though her child is still alive - bleeding, milk, contractions, joints and muscles still loose...they're all the same. Housework may be too physically demanding, and it is almost certainly to emotionally demanding. Offer to help out (but don't touch the baby's things unless asked).

That's probably a long enough list for now, but I want to say one last thing. Please do not be offended if your offers for help are not taken up. Marcus and I had offers of help from dear friends, and it wasn't until weeks later that I realised I never took them up on it. The parents are going to be a fog, and chances are they may forget about your offer! This doesn't mean they don't appreciate it, because they do. It just means that they may not have needed that offer at that point in time; don't hesitate to offer again a few weeks later :)

If you haven't read my other posts about what to do after a friend loses a baby, you can find them here.

Butterfly kisses, bad news and banana bread

There's a famous song called Butterfly Kisses. I used to like it, but now I don't. They lyrics say:

After all that I've done wrong

I must have done something right

To deserve a hug every morning

And butterfly kisses at night

I heard it played at a wedding on the weekend, and my heart just broke. It's hard enough going to weddings: seeing the dad walk his daughter down the aisle, hearing him give a speech about his girl, and maybe watching them dance. I see all of these happen, and know that's another thing we lost when our daughter died. It's all I can do not to run out to my car and sob. And then Butterfly Kisses is played. Sure it's a lovely song, but if the lyrics I underlined are true, does that mean my husband and I did too much wrong, because we won't get those things? Is a living daughter who gives hugs and kisses really a result of doing something right? No.  It's not dependent on how good we are, or even how bad we are. Life happens. Death happens. The Lord gives and the Lord takes away. God is still sovereign. 

I hate giving people bad news. Telling family and friends that Ariella had died was one of the most heartbreaking things I've ever had to do. I'm thankful for things like Facebook, which enables us to spread the news and try to make sure everyone knows. But not everyone does know...yet they knew I was pregnant. On the weekend I bumped into someone who knew I was pregnant. The last time I'd seen them was three days before Ariella died. She looked at me and said "you had a baby, didn't you?" And I hated having to tell her that yes, I did, but she was stillborn. The look in her eyes was heartbreaking. She had asked an innocent question, one that I would have joyfully answered if Ariella was alive. Instead I had bad news to give her; it feels like I ruin people's day when I tell them what happened. I don't like making other people sad.

The other day I made banana bread. It may not seem like a big deal, but it was. Before I was pregnant, I loved baking and would bake at least once a week. Then I got morning sickness and couldn't even go into a kitchen without feeling sick, yet alone do any baking. Once the morning sickness left, I was often too tired to bake, and honestly forgot it was an option (as I hadn't done any baking for months). After Ariella was born, I hated the idea of baking. It was another reminder that Ariella wasn't with me - I didn't want to do something that I hadn't been able to do while she was alive. But last week I made banana bread. And I made some muffins too. To me, that's a big deal. Celebrating the small stuff.

Adelaide Baby Wearers

Long before I was pregnant, I knew I wanted to "wear" my baby. I remember trying a Baby Bjorn once, and it was SO uncomfortable (I have since found out that they aren't the best for babies either). My sister bought an Ergo and a friend bought a Manduca, so I knew there were better options out there. While I was pregnant, I bought a Manduca from the lovely Rachel at Owl Baby. I also found and joined a lovely group on Facebook: Adelaide Baby Wearers (ABW).

ABW is a wonderful community of parents who "wear" their children - either with structured carriers like the Ergo or Manduca, or with wraps that are specially made to be strong enough to carry children safely. Throughout my pregnancy, they kindly answered my questions about different carriers, and one mumma even gave me a stretchy wrap, which is perfect for a newborn. 

After Ariella was born, I let the group know what had happened. I didn't expect anything from them, and I almost didn't even say anything. I only knew these people from online (except for a few people I knew from outside ABW), so I wasn't sure if it would be odd for me to say something. But I thought about their support and advice during pregnancy, and thought that I should tell them. So I did. 

The response was amazing. This wonderful community pulled together to support us, and we were truly blown away by all they did. We had meals dropped at our door, and then received a message to tell us the meals were there. It was so considerate - they wanted to help but not intrude. Someone even collected meals from a number of people and filled a bag for us, so we received a bunch of meals at once - all of which were pre-frozen for us. We also received a package that had a whole range of things in it, and I want to share two of them. I don't know who in the group contributed to the things we received, but I do know two of the women who contributed: 

There are two mums in ABW that make jewellery/clothing from scraps of woven wraps. Amy at Woven Wrap Creations and Courtney at Miss Evie. I received a beautiful necklace from Amy, and some earrings and a ring from Courtney. Aren't they beautiful?

(The 'Ariella Jade' necklace was also an ABW gift. I wear it everyday.)

If you ever want some unique clothing for a little person in your life or some jewellery, please check out Amy and Courtney's Facebook pages. I've never met these two women, and yet they each gave me something to let me know that they were thinking of me. It was very generous of them, and I'd love it if people were to support them too. 

And if you live in or near Adelaide, and are interested in wearing your baby, join ABW on Facebook. They are a lovely bunch of people, and I am very grateful for them.

Funerals and letters

I went to the cemetery today, and was heartbroken to drive up to the Children's section and see that it was set up for another funeral. Knowing what those parents must be going through made me cry. About two weeks after Ariella's burial, she was joined by a little boy named Marco, two spots over from her. Recently there was a tiny grave added, and today there will be another precious baby getting buried. It's awful :(

It made me think back to the day we buried Ariella. Seeing my little girl's white coffin, knowing that I'd laid her in it the day before was hard. I coped so much better than I thought I would, and I believe that's because I had people praying that I would cope ok.

God always knows what we need. I was a bit emotional this morning, realising that it's almost been 3 months without my baby girl. I checked the letterbox, and was so blessed to see a letter that a friend had sent me. It's sitting on the couch next to me and it makes me smile to know that people are still thinking of Ariella. I think part of me is afraid that as time goes on, she will be forgotten. But I'm realising more and more that she won't be. And I'm so grateful.

A heavy heart

I feel the need to write today, but I don't know what to say. I wrote out a post and then deleted it. My heart is heavy. Today, more than ever, I feel the sadness of life. I'm grieving not only my own child's death, but the losses my friends have faced too. I want to write something that might give someone hope, and the optimistic part of me wants to write something cheerful, and to pretend that I'm ok.

But I'm not. I hate seeing friends go through the worst kind of loss. I hate knowing I can't make it better. I hate that so many parents have to say goodbye to their precious children before they can say hello, or too soon afterwards. 

I looked through my photos, trying to find one to post, and God brought this one to my attention. It's a photo my husband took at Port Arthur, Tasmania. Port Arthur was a convict prison, but now it's one of the biggest tourist attractions in Tasmaina. What was a place of misery, grief and pain is now a picturesque location that people flock to visit. It is truly a beautiful place, even though it has a history of pain. 

Baby loss mummas, I think God brought this photo to my attention so that you could see it too. Just like Port Arthur, the ex-prison, is now a place of beauty, He wants you to know that He can bring beauty out of your pain. You just have to let Him. It's not easy, and it will never remove, replace or negate your (my) pain; your baby left too soon, and that is tragic. But maybe one day, we'll see beauty.

Signs of God's love

A friend asked me the following question on Facebook:

Has God given you any special signs or spoken to you in a special way to assure you of His love that you would feel able to share?

I thought it was a good question, and so I've been trying to think of my answer. I have definitely felt God's love during the past 11 weeks. But I had to stop and think about why or how I've felt it. Here are my conclusions:

*God's love in giving me such a wonderful husband. I was amazed when we were discussing plans for Ariella's birth, funeral, grave site and plaque...Hubby and I had the same ideas for all of it. Even down to what song we wanted to play at her service, and what flowers we wanted there! I can't think of a single time when our desires regarding our daughter were different. I know God brought us together a while ago (in fact, today marks 500 days of marriage!), but I still say that Hubby has been a sign of God's love for me over the past 11 weeks.

*One night I was concerned about money. The next day we were given gifts from two people - enough to cover a week of rent. I hadn't even prayed about it that day, all I'd thought was "it would be amazing if someone were to give us money right now, I feel like it's what I need as a pick-me-up." God took that thought, and graciously, lovingly responded. I could almost hear God saying to me "Larissa, there is no need to worry. I've got you."

*I really struggled one weekend, for reasons I won't to go into here. A pastor at church noticed, then called me during the week to see how I was and to offer to chat. That chat seriously turned my week around. Experiencing the pastor's love and care for me (which has been constant, not just that once) is another thing that assures me of God's love. 

*There's also been a few times when I've heard God speak to me, but I don't want to share the details. What I will say is this: prayer isn't just a us talking to God. He talks back. Not necessarily audibly, but He speaks to your heart. And when He does, those words are precious. 

I don't know if those were the sorts of things imagined when my friend asked the question, but they are what spring to mind when I think about the reasons why I feel assured that God loves me, even after this tragedy. And I also know, without a doubt, that God loves you too, dear reader. I don't know your circumstances, but He does. And He loves you.

The effort of socialisation

My friend Sarah wrote a blog post, Imagine, in which she listed different things you could imagine in order to better understand the life of a bereaved mother. While I feel like I could have written so much of the list myself, one in particular stood out:

Imagine a grief so great that the effort of socialisation seems overwhelming. Imagine trying anyway.

That, right there, is my life. And it seems foreign to me, even after 11 weeks. I used to absolutely love being around people, I thrived on it.! If I was home by myself for a few days, with nothing planned, I would go mad! But now I'm the opposite. It's such an effort to make myself go out. Even to places that I love, like my church. It's overwhelming for me to contemplate going places, and I think it's because, most of the time, there is always going to be the 'one person'.

One who doesn't know.
One who tries to make me feel better.
One who doesn't talk to me.
One who looks at me with pity.
One who inadvertently says or does something that hurts.
One who has a baby...

But, even though it's overwhelming, I still try. Because although there is normally 'one person', there is always 'the other one'.

One who gives me a hug.
One who lets me grieve.
One who asks how I am.
One who asks how my hubby is.
One who prays for me.
One who wants to see photos.
One who lets me grieve.
One who mentions Ariella's name.
One who tells me they loved her too.
One who tells me they miss her.

As you can see, the second list is longer. And that's why I force myself to go out, even when it's the last thing I feel like doing. I don't always stay the whole time, nor will I always be actively involved. So if you see me standing off to the side, it's ok. Sometimes just being in a room with others is enough of a challenge, yet alone talking to people! But to everyone who has been 'the other one', thank you. You make socialising a bit easier, and for that, I am grateful.

When people don't respond

Most people have been amazing since Ariella was born. But a few people haven't...it's not a case of them saying the wrong thing, but of them saying nothing at all.
Old friends who used to be close. Newer friends who were so excited about my pregnancy. People in both categories have literally said nothing.
Most days I don't let that bug me. But sometimes, especially after a hard day, it really hurts.
The silence is deafening.
So rather than dwell on those who haven't said anything, tonight I'm going to focus on the good:
*The friend who brings over hot chocolate sachets.
*The friend who takes over a job so I can go home early.
*The friend who asks me how my day was and chooses to comfort me in my grief rather than cheer me up.
*The friends from an online parents group who gave us a few weeks worth of meals and numerous other things to help, even though I'd never met most of them
*The mums I've met through this blog and support groups, who know what to say and when.
*My husband, who is so caring even when he's hurting.
*My God, who comforts me and keeps my little girl safe.
I am blessed.

I need you to...

From Carly Marie Project Heal

I found this picture the other day, and while all of it is true, the last line really struck me:

I need you to forgive me for not being the friend that I once was

What I like about it is that it put into words what I have been thinking. It's not that people have been annoyed at me for not returning messages or for not catching up with them (at least, not that they've told me). It's the opposite - everyone has been very understanding. It's just that I like to please people, I always have. I hate it when people are annoyed at me, or think I've done something to hurt them.  I hate not being able to commit to things because I know I won't handle it well. I don't like feeling like I'm letting people down (even if, in reality, I am not)...