Angel whispers

A friend sent this to me in August, just before Aliya and Bennett's 1-year angelversary (birth/death/loss anniversary), and I thought I'd share it now. Thank you, S...love you!

Angel Whispers

Dear Mommy,

Before we said our first hello,
the time had already passed.
For when you held us in your arms,
We had gone to heaven to rest.

We felt angelic tears run down our cheeks,
and watched you as you wept.
We wish we could have changed it all,
Your tears touched our souls so deep.
But Mommy, when you are sad,
please be assured we know.
For death cannot take away your love,
it will only continue to grow.

Time and distance cannot erase,
a love and bond so deep.
There is no bond that can compare,
and in your heart we'll keep.
When you are feeling far away,
and missing us so much,
close your eyes and feel our wings,
their soft and gentle touch.
Or at night as you sleep,
we'll join you in a dream.
You will see us standing close to you,
and we'll be lost within our wings.
So dear Mommy,
as you go from day to day.
Find comfort in the knowledge,
We are never that far away.

--Author Unknown

So thoughtful

Another twin loss mama, Alissa, who lost her son and daughter in October, had trees planted in their honor by the Arbor Day Foundation. She then had the remarkable idea to volunteer to have trees planted in honor of as many lost babies as were mentioned in her blog comments.

I'm was so happy to see the resulting certificate and beautiful post on her blog tonight. What an honor to have trees planted in the Shasta-Trinity National Forest in honor of so many angel babies...40 trees for 65 precious lives, including Aliya and Bennett's.

Once again, my heart overflows...

Thank you, Alissa!

Twelve Freedoms of Healing In Grief

You have the freedom to realize your grief is unique.
You have the freedom to talk about your grief.
You have the freedom to expect to feel a multitude of emotions.
You have the freedom to allow for numbness.
You have the freedom to be tolerant of your physical and emotional limits.
You have the freedom to experience grief attacks or memory embraces.
You have the freedom to develop a support system.
You have the freedom to make use of ritual.
You have the freedom to embrace your spirituality.
You have the freedom to allow a search for meaning.
You have the freedom to treasure your memories.
You have the freedom to move toward your grief and heal.
                                   
~Alan D. Wolfelt, Ph.D

Precious gifts

In the first few days after our loss, the Internet became almost a fixation for me. I researched and reached out and struggled to find others who knew how I was feeling. I soon found photos on others' blogs and followed links to the non-profits behind them. What treasure was waiting to be discovered there, for they each offered wonderful, free items of remembrance for parents who have lost their babies.

One that excited me most, Calvin's Hats, provides right-sized, hand-knit (or crocheted) baby hats for parents who lost their babies. These hats are made by volunteers using whatever patterns, yarns, colors and embellishments strikes their fancies, and are sent to Calvin's Hats to be forwarded to parents who requested them.

I sent in my request for our babies the first or second week after our loss and waited impatiently for the hats to arrive in the mail. I held my babies in my hands, kissed their tiny heads, but had to leave them behind at the hospital, and while I have their hand and footprints, the size of their bodies is only in my memory...I had nothing tangible. For someone who hasn't lost a baby, the need to have a physical item to remember size by probably seems weird, but if you've been there, you know. Gosh, and the thought that someone would take the time and the love to knit something that would fit my babies' heads meant so much.

The hats arrived on Friday night. Annie Wilhelm, the founder and director of Calvin's Hats, had been in email contact with me so I knew they should be coming. I grinned from ear to ear as I pulled the slightly crumpled manila envelope out of our big green mailbox, and gasped as I saw our names followed by "♥ Parents of ____ and _____ ♥".

I waited until I was in the house with Paul to open it, and pulled out a sweet irridescent fabric pouch. Inside, two precious white hats, each with a tiny charm tied on with a bit of colored ribbon, his and hers. In my hand, they are perfect. The exact right size. See, Paul and I had been trying to recall the approximate circumference of their little heads. We thought the circle made with thumb and forefinger was correct (his more than mine...bigger fingers). The hats we received are correct and so wonderful.

I gushed to Annie my appreciation, and she shared the name of the woman who created ours. On a whim I scrolled down the Calvin's Hats Facebook page, and there she was. I felt compelled to send her a private message, which said:

Hi ____,

You don't know me, but I just found out from Annie that you're the creator of the two perfect, tiny white hats we received today from Calvin's Hats. Our twins, _____ and ______, were delivered at 14 weeks 2 days on August 5th, 2011. This was our first pregnancy after 3.5 years of infertility and it was complicated from the start. We never dreamed it would end so badly. I can't tell you how much it means to hold these two little white hats in my hand, knowing - and seeing - that they're exactly the right size for my tiny babies' heads. We received many things from the hospital in our memory box, but nothing "right sized". Your work is such a gift.

Thank you... ♥All of these people who have been inspired to help others through their grief, whether the nurses at our hospital or these wonderful artists and crafters and photographers, do such a service to all of us. I hope they know just how much it truly means.

A Father's Grief

It must be very difficult
To be a man in grief.
Since "men don't cry" and "men are strong"
No tears can bring relief.

It must be very difficult
To stand up to the test.
And field calls and visitors
So that she can get some rest.

They always ask if she's alright
And what she's going through.
But seldom take his hand and ask,
"My friend, how are you?"

He hears her cry in the night
And thinks his heart will break.
And dries her tears and comforts her
But "stays strong" for her sake.

It must be very difficult
To start each day anew.
And try to be so very brave-
He lost his baby too.

                                                         --Eileen Knight Hagemeister

Fingerprints

Your fingerprints are on my heart.
Even though I never held your hand –
… you touched me.
Even though I never heard you speak
– you taught me.
You taught me about love.
You taught me about courage.
You taught me about living.
You taught me about loss.
You brought me closer to my loved ones.
You brought me closer to myself.
In the time I cared for you my whole life changed
– never to be the same.
All this from your fingerprints that touched my heart.
Your will stay in my soul forever
– never to be forgotton.
I will always love you.
You are my child.

Tom Krause

From the Grieving Dad's Project website

What Makes a Mother?

I thought of you and closed my eyes,
And prayed to God today.
I asked, "What makes a Mother?"
and I know I heard him say:
"A mother has a baby,
this we know is true."
"But, God, can you be a mother,
when your baby's not with you?"
"Yes, you can," he replied,
with confidence in his voice.
"I give many women babies,
when they leave is not their choice.
Some I send for a lifetime,
and others for a day.
And some I send to feel your womb,
but there is no need to stay."
"I just don't understand this God,
I want my baby here."
He took a breath and cleared his throat,
and then I saw a tear.
"I wish that I could show you,
what your child is doing today,
if you could see your child smile,
with other children who say:
'We go to earth and learn our lessons,
of love and life and fear.
My mommy loved me oh so much,
I got to come straight here.
I feel so lucky to have a mom,
who had so much love for me.
I learned my lessons very quickly,
my mommy set me free.
I miss my mommy oh so much,
but I visit her each day.
When she goes to sleep,
on her pillow's where I lay.
I stroke her hair and kiss her cheek,
and whisper in her ear.
"Mommy, don't be sad today, I'm your baby and I'm here."'
So you see my dear sweet one,
your children are safe.
Your babies are here in My home,
they'll be at heavens gate for you.
So now you see what makes a mother.
It's the feeling in your heart.
It's the love you had so much of,
right from the very start.
Though some on earth may not realize you are a mother,
until their time is done,
they'll be up here with Me one day,
and will know that you're the best one."

                                                                  ~Author Unknown

The Brown Star Story

Not long ago, astronomers found in the heavens gaseous celestial bodies - clouds of cosmic dust - which they think have finally answered the mystery of what exists between the small things in the universe, like planets, and the bigger things, like the sun. They call the cosmic dust "brown dwarfs" or "prestars," because although brown dwarfs have all the same elements to become a star, for some reason they never did.

All stars go on to live full lives, from their hot, bright white dwarf stage to their aged, cooler and dimmer red giant stage. But "brown stars" only go so far. Instead of being born to live a normal star's life, they remain cool and dim, hiding in the heavens, sprinkled in clusters among the other stars, one hundred fifty light years from earth.

But like our babies, their roles in the universe are very important. In fact, scientists believe they serve as a link between the small things and the big things, holding the universe together; a mid-point between the beginning and ending of our universal story.

As we grieve our babies who died before reaching the stardom of their earthly lives, perhaps we can find comfort in the possibility that they are designated for this very special, universal role. Energized by our lives, they are guardians of our memories of what was and our dreams of what someday may be.

As we look to the heavens, seeking answers, we send messages of love to our "brown star" babies.

                                                                                                                    --Kim Steffgen

(from "When Hello Means Goodbye: A Guide for Parents Whose Child Dies Before Birth, At Birth or Shortly After Birth", by Pat Schwiebert, RN and Paul Kirk, MD)