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To be remembered

Yesterday my living son turned six years old yesterday and I was pleasantly surprised at the number of birthday messages we received from family and even friends. It was very well received, obviously, I mean who wouldn’t want their child’s birthday to be remembered. But it filled me with sadness too at the thought that it was only my in-laws and fellow baby loss mamas (who I am friends with and have only been in contact with online) who sent us thoughtful messages, sent gifts and even came over to be with us on Zia’s birthday this year. There were no messages to say they’re thinking of us, no messages to tell us they remember we have another child who isn’t with us. Not even after putting status messages and profile pictures on Facebook and other communication apps.

I realise that people move on and people forget, they do not want to mark off that day on their calendars, Maybe it is simply because her life does not matter in theirs, which is understandable as most of them do not understand the pain of baby and child loss. I have learnt to accept that but it is still very sad. I do not remember every single baby or child’s day but when I do see a post or I remember at a later date, I acknowledge that day and make contact with that family. Someone on www.glowinthewoods.com once suggested that we do a calendar of our babies birthdays, I would like to revive that idea, because it truly is brilliant and ask that you post your own baby’s birthday/still birthday or death days here for me to add to the remembrance calendar.

So whether it is by email (if you are willing to share) or simply on any of the forums or on our blogs, our babies special days will be acknowledged. Your participation will be wonderful. Hopefully there will be one or two other parents who will volunteer to keep track of the dates on the calendar all year round. This year I realise how important it is to simply know someone thought of your child.

To be remembered

Yesterday my living son turned six years old yesterday and I was pleasantly surprised at the number of birthday messages we received from family and even friends. It was very well received, obviously, I mean who wouldn’t want their child’s birthday to be remembered. But it filled me with sadness too at the thought that it was only my in-laws and fellow baby loss mamas (who I am friends with and have only been in contact with online) who sent us thoughtful messages, sent gifts and even came over to be with us on Zia’s birthday this year. There were no messages to say they’re thinking of us, no messages to tell us they remember we have another child who isn’t with us. Not even after putting status messages and profile pictures on Facebook and other communication apps.

I realise that people move on and people forget, they do not want to mark off that day on their calendars, Maybe it is simply because her life does not matter in theirs, which is understandable as most of them do not understand the pain of baby and child loss. I have learnt to accept that but it is still very sad. I do not remember every single baby or child’s day but when I do see a post or I remember at a later date, I acknowledge that day and make contact with that family. Someone on www.glowinthewoods.com once suggested that we do a calendar of our babies birthdays, I would like to revive that idea, because it truly is brilliant and ask that you post your own baby’s birthday/still birthday or death days here for me to add to the remembrance calendar.

So whether it is by email (if you are willing to share) or simply on any of the forums or on our blogs, our babies special days will be acknowledged. Your participation will be wonderful. Hopefully there will be one or two other parents who will volunteer to keep track of the dates on the calendar all year round. This year I realise how important it is to simply know someone thought of your child.

The good ol’ days

Six years ago while I was pregnant with my first child, my son, Brady , there was a point where I thought he was a girl and we were going to name him Zia. My daughter’s name was set since my teenager days. I kept a pregnancy journal at that time which is now a sort of story of you journal for my son to read when he gets older.

A few years after he was born I started going back and reading my letters and putting bubbles around the name Zia and correcting it to “Brady”. At that time, I also wrote “Maybe one day, you’ll have a little sister and we’ll name her Zia”.

We did, we did, we did, but sadly she isn’t with us. The thing I realised today is that I miss those days of believing that everything was going to be okay and turn out just right. I miss the innocence of it all. The world where I knew that babies and children did die sometimes but where I wasn’t scared that I would experience losing my own. It was horrible to hear of it ever happening to other people. I remembering feeling so sad for all those parents out there who had to go through that but it doesn’t compare to feeling the rawness of losing your own. Of living a life without.

Six years ago, 2009, August I was simply counting down the days till I would see my son. I was enjoying him moving and kicking and living. I couldn’t wait to hold him and I KNEW I WOULD, fast forward a few years later, 2013, August and I was feeling like my whole world had collapsed around me, under a month since I had lost our daughter Zia. I didn’t know what to do, where to turn, completely lost.

Two years, it’s been two years and such reminders still hurt really bad. They make me feel helpless in this big big world of what if’s.

In Between

Is there a world between this one and the next, where our babies are spiritual beings, surrounded by glorious light, they have no specific age, simply when we last saw them, where nothing but baby giggles and rainbow bubbles can be seen. There is a smell of honey and sugar and no matter where you turn there is simply beauty. And the older children too, those that left their parents too soon. They carry our babies now and then until they flutter away, some golden butterflies, some the wind, some the rays of the sun. Our babies are there, guardians of those to come. Their spirits soar the skies by day and wrap themselves around our brokenness, by night they lay watch at our sides until the dawn of the new day.

I am by no means religious anymore but I can’t help but want there to be more, a place where I can meet Zia someday and talk with her heart to heart, soul to soul. It’s been two years and I miss her terribly. I cannot say what it is I feel anymore, sadness yes, madness yes, pain, nothingness but happiness too at the fact that she was here once and that she led me through the lessons of silence. Silence so deafening, you can hear it, feel it, taste it.

 Dreams, thoughts, how am i? almost two years on…

I had a strange dream last night. My husband and I were on a plane on our way to Durban, SA for a conference on adoption. We arrive at our destination and it switches scenes, where I am now walking into an adoption home and he is already there and already chosen a baby, a little girl. She was beautiful and then she wasn’t, she wasn’t as beautiful as Zia owuld have been I kept thinking. Switch scene and I am holding the same little girl and sitting with my husband accross what must have been a Counselor. The next thing I know I am crying my eyes out about my daughter who was stillborn, I couldn’t care less whether she thought was unstable I just went on and on crying about how awful it was to lose Zia. And then I woke up.I had one of those awful weekends, I missed Zia more than usual and I kept thinking back to 16 July 2013, the day my whole world came crashing down around me. I kept replaying the nurses and the doctor trying to locate her heartbeat. I kept thinking “come on baby be okay” and she wasn’t. How is it even possible that she wasn’t okay? It’s been almost two years and I am still so angry, so very angry. I spent the last two days in bed, moping, reading, sleeping, being annoyed. I didn’t cry, I didn’t want to, I just wanted to feel the misery of this life without my daughter. I am okay now, better, back into the swing of things. I hate the end of June because it brings with it July and I hate July. I wish it never existed, I wish I never had to go through this month all over again on an annual basis. I wish I could fall asleep and wake up in August. 

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