It is with a heavy heart that I extend a hug, my most sincere condolences and a welcome to Ben and Sara. Ben and Sara lost their sweet daughter Olivia a little over three months ago. Olivia was born with Tetralogy of Fallot with Pulmonary Atresia, which was Calvin's original diagnosis in utero. It breaks my heart to hear that another angel has gotten her wings. Please visit Ben's blog and show them some support here:
I guess it's almost a creepy feeling, like being the Wal-Mart greeter for the Dead Baby Club. I hate this club. I hate "welcoming" new members. I hate that once you're in it, there's no way out. I should be passing out sad face stickers at the door with the message that "Now that you're here, your life will never be the same again..." And it's true. Once you've had a child die, say good-bye to normal. Say good-bye to life as you've known it because it will never be the same again. Oddly enough, Lea at Nicholas' Touch blogged about this today. About how she fought against the idea that her life had changed forever when she lost Nicholas. Oh how I could relate to her post. I have hated every stinking second of being a babylost mother. I have railed in anger over the loss of my "before" life. It plain old sucks. It's been over a year for us now and I still hate it every day. I still think about my son everyday, I still miss him, still love him, still ache inside when I see things I would have liked to have bought for him. I don't know if those feelings ever go away. I know that Calvin's loss has softened a bit, instead of being a knife ripping through my heart and soul, it's become more of a dull ache in my chest, an ever present "awareness" of his absence.
I am saddened for Ben and Sara, knowing that they are soon to face the most painful Christmas of their lives without their precious Olivia. Shane and I were only 39 days past Calvin's death for our first Christmas post loss and it was an empty, hollow time for us. Not only did we have to fake it for our girls, but we were very much isolated with much of the family "giving us our privacy". I do understand that our grief at this most joyous time of the year probably made them uncomfortable, but privacy was the last thing we needed in those early days. What I have needed has changed over the course of this dark journey varying from needing acknowledgement of Calvin's life, to needing space and time to heal. Although I will never be or feel "perfect" in my grief, I have come to accept that because my feelings ebb and flow, that things will not always be okay with me emotionally and that I shouldn't expect them to. All I can hope for is a sense of peace, a coming to terms with this being my "now" life and not fighting for my yesterdays anymore. Not only have I had to learn with letting go of my son and the hopes and dreams I had for his life, but I've also had to learn to let go of my life as it was and that has been the hardest part since we said good-bye.
It would be my hope that my friends here will take a moment to visit A Dragonfly's Embrace to show support for this newly bereaved couple. God Bless....
It Takes a Village
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