Walk to Remember

We were late and I wanted to be irritated. I considered not going at all, why bother when we were already going to miss the beginning. A woman approached us as we arrived on the grounds and directed us to join the procession as they were just starting out.

And so we walked. And I cried.

The surge of emotion took me by surprise. As soon as we joined the end of the long line of baby lost families, my knees went weak and sobs wracked my body. I have no idea who the tears were for. For my lost baby? For myself and my family? Or for the many, many families plodding in front of me. So many bereaved mothers and fathers. So many brothers and sisters without their siblings to run with and play with. Grandparents, aunts and uncles, friends all loving and supporting their loved ones, all missing their sweet babies who should have been cuddled in their arms.

I usually feel survivor’s guilt when I interact with other baby lost parents. I have been greatly blessed in the progeny arena. I have 5 living children, including a newborn baby. I understand how difficult it can be to suffer the sight of other’s pregnant bellies and babes in arms, when your arms are empty. My arms are full now, full of babies to love. But they know the gut-wrenching ache of longing. My arms know what it is to hold a ghost baby. And I feel guilt now that my arms are full while other’s are empty. I try to be sensitive to the feelings of those who may feel dismay at my current joy. But this day was filled with families. Families with full arms, but who knew the pain of empty ones. Unfortunately, not all the families are so blessed, there were many with no children to hold, those with multiple losses as well.

The whole event was just lovely and surprisingly cathartic. We hadn’t participated in any group rituals of remembrance before. We didn’t have a funeral for Kalila, we went to the funeral home on our own to say good bye. We didn’t go to group therapy or to the tree plantings. We mourned in seclusion. We observe the anniversaries quietly at home.

Being a part of a group of people like us, all celebrating the too-short lives of our babies-lost, was incredible.

I love the almost solemn walking. Being at the very end of the line, I was able to observe the other families and their interactions. There were happy, playing children. There were smiling, chatting adults. There were mourning mothers who were deep in their own thoughts as they walked beside hundreds of others. There were lost fathers, who didn’t know what to do with themselves, how to manage their grief. There were volunteers, smiling gently in support and care. We meandered along the pathway through the legislature grounds. Our walk ended as we walked past our babies’ names written in chalk along the pathway. Kalila’s was the very last name.

There was a brief service afterward. Kate from sweet/salty and Glow in the Woods spoke a brief message that touched every heart, and a tear to more than a few eyes. She was incredible, and so generous in sharing her heart with all of us, and leaving her babies across the country in order to do so.

The event ended with our babies names being read aloud as we released balloons, tagged with the names and our wishes for our babies. At first I felt that this would be an artifice riddled exercise. But hearing Kalila’s name read aloud, in front of hundreds of people, made her feel so real to me again. Releasing her balloon allowed my broken heart to soar to her. My Monkey kept asking me if the balloons were going to God, and I felt like I should explain the impossibility of that. I was then reminded that there is no impossible with God.

We also released a balloon with the names of some of our friend’s lost babies, and thought of them throughout the day, as we do often.

As the crowds scattered, we lingered with a family we are acquainted with from church. Their sweet little girl died at 21 weeks, just a few brief weeks ago. I have wanted to connect with her for a while. We briefly chat after Sunday services, but never really get a chance for realness. Yesterday was the perfect opportunity. They are in the trenches of their grief, and I hope that I was able to offer her a glimpse of hope of the future. That someday it won’t hurt quite the same.

I am very thankful that my husband was there and was able to speak a bit with her’s. In some ways, baby loss grief is more difficult for the men. They are not given the same permission to grieve as mothers. They didn’t get to carry their baby within them and know them like mothers do, but they are still mourning. Men feel the need to be strong for their wives and suppress their own hurts. Their peers expect them to ‘just get over it already.’ I think baby lost men need to be there for each other, to guide each other and to support one another in their way of grieving.

It was an incredibly uplifting day for us and I am so thankful to all of those who made it possible. Thank you to Lincoln's Mommy and Daddy.

Kalila's balloon and the one for our friends' babies.

My family, bringing up the rear of the procession.

Walk to Remember

This weekend our city is holding it's very first Walk to Remember. It is a special day to remember and celebrate the lives of babies lost to miscarriage, stillbirth and soon after birth. October is Pregnancy and Infant loss awareness month and therefore many of the Walks are held in October.
The website gives a bit of history:

The first Walk to Remember was held in September 1986 in Chicago, Illinois, at the Fifth National Perinatal Bereavement Conference. Now, in the United States, tens of thousands participate in the walk, which is held various weekends throughout September and October.

Many chose October for their Walk because it is the month of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness, a time of national observance proclaimed by President Ronald Reagan in 1988. The proclamation states: "National observance of Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness Month offers us the opportunity to increase our understanding of the great tragedy involved in the deaths of unborn and newborn babies. It also enables us to consider how, as individuals and communities, we can meet the needs of bereaved parents and family members and work to prevent causes of these problems."

This movement is new in Canada, and Edmonton's Walk to Remember was spearheaded by a lovely woman who lost her baby, Lincoln, last October 10th. All the money raised from the walk will go to a local baby loss support group called Angel Whispers. (Angel Whispers site) Donations can be made online through Canada Helps.

Donations of keepsake teddy bears will also be collected at the walk, so that parents who have lost their babies can be given a teddy bear to hold on to as they grieve. I know that this was important for me. When we lost Kalila, my cousin gave me a sweet little pink teddy bear. I slept with that teddy and Kalila's blanket in my arms for month and months. When our Girly was born, 3 years later, she adopted Kalila's teddy over all her many toys as her comfort object. This has provided countless opportunities to talk about Kalila and remember her with her siblings.

I think that the Walk to Remember is a wonderful opportunity to not only celebrate our babies' lives, but to raise awareness about Infant and Pregnancy Loss. Alberta has the highest infant mortality rate in Canada, so we need to do all we can to inform ourselves and others. It is also a terrific way for friends and families of those who have lost their babies to show their love and support.

So if you are out here in Alberta, come on out to the legislature grounds this weekend and help support families who's precious children have died to soon.

March of Dimes and Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep

My friend Aunt Becky is celebrating her son's first birthday by honoring those babies who were taken too soon. A number of her friends have suffered infant loss and stillbirths and she is encouraging us to donate to two wonderful causes, the March of Dimes and Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep, a charity that gives professional photography to those who are saying goodbye to their babies forever.
So please hop on over to Becky's and show your love to some families who are suffering. And send some kisses towards heaven for some Angel babies.

Sadness

I am feeling sad today, just plain sad. I realize I am really tired, and it is just after Christmas, so sad is probably pretty normal. I also feel guilt. Guilt about not finishing my story here, for not sharing and for not giving more of myself to other women with dead babies.
I have been reading these women's blogs, reading and sobbing, feeling their pain and mine. They seem to intermingle and it becomes hard for me to tell them apart. Am I sad for my own lost baby? The one I so missed this Christmas, as always. Especially as I watch her cousins play together, especially the other 2 five year old girls that were to be her life-long best friends, her sister-cousins. Or am I sad for all of these poor women who are suffering right now, missing their precious babies, for all the horror they have been through, the intense sorrow they are in the middle of?
I guess the answer is both. The women in deadbabyland remind me what it was like to be where they are. I want everything to be alright for them in a way it wasn't for me. I want them to know the hope and joy I have now. I wish I could take away a measure of their pain, but in a way I don't want to take that from them. I remember my Mom asking the Dr. for a Valium or something to help me and the Dr. told her that I had to feel all of the emotions of grief so that I could heal, that giving me drugs would not help me in the long run, that if and when I needed antidepressants, that would be a whole other thing.
So I guess I don't really want to take other women's grief from them, at least it is somewhat tangible and reminds us that our babies are real, they lived and they have died. I guess I just pray that they will find hope again, that they will continue to travel through their grief and process and find joy and peace and hope again.

Condolences

I just found out that my cousin's son and daughter-in-law buried their stillborn baby girl today. I am so sorry R and K and cousin J for your immense loss. My heart is breaking for you, crying with you. Wishing you could hold baby Grace in your arms one more time. Thinking of your Grandma Joyce and Nana P. in heaven, holding our babies, cuddling them and kissing them until we get to go and hold them ourselves.
I pray that God's love will surround you and comfort you, that he will hold you up at this time when it seems impossible to stand. I wish there was something I could say or do to ease your pain.
Love,
Kristen

My pregnancy

This is a reprint of the post I made at Mighty Morphin Mama last April.
5 years ago, almost 6 now, just after Christmas I discovered that I was going to have my 3rd baby. The moment I found out I flopped into my bed with my husband and cried. We had really come to the conclusion that we weren't going to have any more children, 2 was a great number! DH had been out of work for a bit, and we had no idea when he would work again, so the timing wasn't great either. We held each other and talked and he reassured me that God would take care of us, and he was so excited that we were going to hold another of God's blessings in our arms very soon.
By the next morning I was so excited about our new baby I spent hours pouring over baby name books writing down all the names I loved. I kinda thought we might have a baby girl this time, and the girl names stood out to me way more than any boy names. I knew her middle name would be Dorothy. That is my middle name, I was named after both my Grandmothers.
The boys were ecstatic when we told them they were gonna be big brothers. They jumped up and down yelling! R was so thrilled that he was finally a big brother too, and B was convinced that he was going to get to be compensated for R being a boy by finally having a little sister.
One of the coolest parts of being pregnant this time was that 2 of my sisters were pregnant already! Ang was due first, 6 weeks later Hayley was due, and then 6 weeks later I was due. I went up to visit everyone and we had a blast being preggo together. I was 16 weeks by then and I felt my baby's stirrings for the first time. I could talk to her and feel her move within me. Daddy and I would sing to her, Away in a Manger, just like we did with her brothers before her. Actually the boys loved to cuddle up with me and hug my little tummy and sing to her too.
My dh is very brave and drove back to Calgary with Me, Ang, and Hayley, and the 3 boys. One man and three pregnant women and 800 km of highway! Brave or a sucker for punishment, lol. After numerous bathroom stops and snack breaks we got back to Calgary where my sisters and I shopped for maternity clothes and let our bellies lead us around. We spent tons of time talking about how fun it would be for our babies to grow up together and taking photos of them all together, and maybe even dressing them alike, lol.
I bought some really nice maternity clothes for the first time, the styles are so much better than with my first two babies. I wore this really sexy new top to my birthday dinner. All we could talk about was our new baby, and what our life would be like when she came.
At just about 18 weeks I went for my regular ultrasound. The boys came in and saw their baby sibling. She put her hand up by her mouth and looked like she was waving at them. So exciting! It seemed to be taking a long time, and the tech had a very serious demeanor. I was a little concerned. When she spoke to the Dr. and he came to talk to me after my kids and dh left, I was very worried. He told me that my baby had Coroid Plexus cysts in her brain. Benign cysts that are actually quite common and mean nothing if they are found in the brain of someone who is already born. But when seen in an unborn infant they are a soft marker for a trisomy. Down syndrome is a trisomy, so that is where I went in my head. The doctor told me I would have to come back in a few weeks for another ultrasound where they would hopefully be able to see more, and referred us to a genetic counsellor. I laid there and cried, clutching the paperwork in my hands. Mourning my perfect baby that might not be perfect.
I knew already that I would not have the amnio, as I would not risk the baby's life that way. I would have the baby no matter what could possibly be wrong with it. And the actual probability of there being an issue was smaller than the likelihood of amnio induced miscarriage. I cried to think that my baby may suffer in any way. Balled and mourned. And then I went to the library to research. I read every medical journal article I could find on these cysts and anything remotely related to trisomies as well.
What I read was reassuring as well as hard. The probability of something being wrong was very small, but if there was a trisomy it looked like it would not be Down syndrome. It would be one of the other 2 most common trisomies, both of which were fatal either before or not long after birth. I really did not want to accept that. I took books out of the library on raising a child with Down Syndrome, educated myself on what to expect and what resources I would need to pull from. I immersed myself in information and started looking into support groups and such for families with children with Trisomies. I kept pushing the thought that this baby would die out of my head. For me that was an unacceptable outcome.
I called my Doctor's office to find out when my next ultrasound would be and when I could come in and talk to her. The office told me that if there was any problems with my last ultrasound the doctor would get back to me. I told them that I already knew what the problems were and I needed to see my doctor and have her make the appointment at the Genetic counsellors office and for the more in-depth ultrasound. My doc was on holidays and I didn't hear back for a week or two.
I went back to my doctor for a checkup at just over 20 weeks. She was having a hard time finding the fetal heartbeat, but I wasn't worried as it had happened before. Then she said, "Oh do you hear that little echo in the background, I think that is it." She finished the checkup and said goodbye. Later that day the nurse called to tell me they had scheduled my second ultrasound. I had to go the next day, I told her that was not convenient, but she insisted saying the doc thought it was urgent. Weird, I thought.
This ultrasound was taking a very long time. The tech was consulting with the doctor the whole time. I am thinking, okay, they are seeing trisomy markers and want to be sure before they talk to me. Finally they asked me if there was anyone with me who could come in with me. I said my dh was there, but he had my kids. They brought him in alone. Then they told me that my baby had died. They had no reason, but she was dead just the same. Stunned. Slapped across the face with my nightmare of losing a child.