Reminder for Dads and Grandfathers-You are not alone...

You are not alone...

The strength of the men around me had always been something I envied, with one exception.. when my children died... It was during those three life events, when my three children died - my little girl Randee Marie in 1970 shortly after her birth-Randee and her twin brother Ric who is now 43 and the father of 2 of my beautiful grandchildren were born 12 weeks prematurely; again the following year when my 2nd daughter Robin Marie died tragically from SIDS, and then again in September 2009 when my 36 year old son Bobby, took his own life, leaving a wife and 2 very small sons - no when these incidents happened, I no longer envied the men in my life.....

Quite the opposite, although I remember wishing and praying I could be as strong as those men around me "Stoic, strong, unbending, unemotional, able to conceal the obvious overwhelming pain", but I eventually realized that all that I'd seen was not what it appeared...  I realized it was much more difficult for so many of the men who have these same tragic experiences...  the dads, grandfathers, uncles & brothers who experienced these horrific lose - why was it worse for them (an not easier as I'd thought), it was  because they couldn't openly grieve, or at least they felt they couldn't!

Because while most women don't try to "toughen up" during these most difficult hours, we just grieve without thinking about what other's think, we simply grieve in whatever way we do...but sadly, so many men feel they must be the strong one, the brave one, that they must hide their emotions, their tears and their pain.. but when it is the death of their child or grandchild, no man - father or grandfather should feel pressured to be anything but grieving...they like the women in their lives just need to be able to grieve, in whatever way they need to do to deal with the unimaginable grief.....

So dads and grandfathers, you aren't alone...  Thanks to other grieving dads who struggled with their own journeys of grief and have found ways to work with and help other grieving dads, like Kelly Farley at www.grievingdads.com and author of "Grieving Dads:  To the Brink and Back"; Dan Hoppes, who along with his wife Judy founded Heartbeat of Havasu for bereaved parents of children who ernded their own lives; and the grieving fathers and mothers who founded other support groups Bereaved Parents www.bereavedparentsusa.org  and The Compassionate Friends www.compassionatefriends.org and thousands of others in many communities throughout the United States and almost every country of the world...

Our children are not supposed to die before us, but sadly they do... And coping with hat horrible reality isn't easy so reach out... Anyone who loves and cares about you and your famjily will understand and if they don't that is their problem - not yours... we can only hope that they will never know this unimaginable heartache that comes for the death of our beloved children, no matter their age...

So know that you are in our thoughts and prayers in this month of June - the moth when Father'as Day is celebrated and also throughout the year... No matter how you grieve, know that you are without any doubt stronger than most around you because you have endured a pain and heartache like no other...  Cherie Houston

Forgive me, My Daughter......

FORGIVE ME, MY DAUGHTER

(Especially for Grandparents)

 ~ SIDS Survival Guide

I want you to be the little girl, who tore her many-layered petticoats on the parallel bars or in school and once even  chipped a tooth.

I want you, too, to be the child with bloody knees who had matching holes in her new leotards.

Or maybe the one who fell from a swing and needed a half dozen stitches beneath her eye.

Oh, I could hold you then there was magic in my kisses that stemmed the pain and a doctor nearby for more tangible aid.

But what do I do now, now that you are a woman and your sorrows are commensurate with your age?

I stand immobile as your wan face leans over the broken turf where your infant son, your only child, will soon be interred.

I clench my fists, knowing there is no solace any longer in my arms for agony of this magnitude.

You are deaf, too, to my murmurings; you hear only the echoes of his laughter and his cries.

Of course, I am here when you need me.  But I can only pretend I am a strong and wise grandmother, when in truth, forgive me, my daughter, I remain a mother, heart-broken twice.

We wish you peace this season...

Hanukkah is almost over and Christmas is less than two weeks away - and whether we like it or not - the season of holidays will occur, no matter how we feel or how much our hearts are broken....

There is no doubt - the death of our children changes us forever and no matter what you've read or been told, I believe that our grieving for them will last until we join them.

But, despite our heartache, life does go on, with or without us, and for those left behind ~ our other children and family members, and ourselves & it would be even sadder for us not to find joy and peace again.

It's okay and normal to feel as we do as we grieve (and we all know the way we feel changes in a blink of any eye on this journey from mourning to joy), but between those moments of overwhelming sadness, keep a watchful eye out for that little flicker of peace and joy, that if you welcome and allow it, it will continue to grow; I wish you can find a little peace this holiday season and know and believe that joy is possible again, how could it not be..

We were blessed and given the wonderful privilege of having these children in our lives – be it for the days and weeks when we carried them, or the few moments, days or months after their birth, or for those of us who were blessed to have them for years (even though no matter how many-we all feel it was too few) until their deaths; what incredible gifts we received from them.

So from one grieving heart to another, and in memory and celebration of our children who are no longer with us in body; I wish that we all will find peace, joy and happiness again in all that surrounds us and our families, this holiday season and know without doubt that they are with us in spirit.. 

From  Cherie Houston, Joyce Floyd and all the moms who are on this Journey from Mourning to Joy...

When my child has died - please.......

Thank you to Paula B. from Beverly, England for sharing this - every mom whose on this journey, understands these statements all too well...

When My Child Has Died

~author is unknown but she knows she was a woman

When my child has died, please… 

• Don’t ignore me because you are uncomfortable with the subject of death. It makes me wonder if what happened means nothing to you.

• Acknowledge my pain, even if you think it shouldn’t be as great as it is… (because I’ve ‘only’ lost a baby or one of four!)

• Losing a child is one of the most difficult experiences to face and the depth of my grief will shock even me as it returns in waves. A tremendous number of emotional and physical hurts will come my way – please don’t minimize them.

• Please be aware that holidays and anniversaries will be particularly difficult times.

• If you invite me for lunch or bring a meal around (and please do) in the midst of my grief, please expect to talk about my loss. It’s all I’m thinking about and I need to talk it out; small talk neither interests nor helps just now.

• Please don’t change the subject if I start to cry. Tears and talking about it are the healthiest way for me to release my intense emotions.

• Telling me that So-and-so’s situation must have been much worse won’t make mine easier. It only makes me feel you don’t understand or can’t acknowledge the extent of my pain.

• Don’t expect that because my child is in heaven or ‘with God’ I shouldn’t be hurting. Even the most fervent believer in God would rather have their child with them. My arms ache to hold my child and I miss him or her so much. And God might not be finding favor with me right now.

• Now is not the time to tell me about your own childbirth or child’s experiences… It reminds me in the most painful way of what I’m missing.

• Don’t remind me that I’m so lucky to have other children. I am and I know it. But my pain is excruciating for this child; the others don’t take that pain away. Indeed, they can add to it because I’ve got to comfort them as well.

• No matter how bad I look, please don’t say “You look terrible.” I feel like a total failure right now and I don’t need to hear that I look awful too.

• Don’t devalue my experience or my child – the feelings of deprivation are so intense. A child who has never breathed is nonetheless missed so if I’ve ‘only’ miscarried or my child was stillborn, don’t forget he/she was a very special, unique person.

• Please don’t suggest my child can be replaced by my having more. Would you say “Don’t worry, there are plenty more fish in the sea,” to someone who had just lost their husband?

• When you ask my husband how I’m doing – please don’t forget to ask him how he’s doing too. He has also lost his child. If you ignore his hurt it suggests that his pain doesn’t exist or doesn’t matter.

Angel Babies...

Angel Babies...

~ author unknown

The world may never notice 

If a Snowdrop doesn't bloom, 

Or even pause to wonder 

If the petals fall too soon. 

But every life that ever forms, 

Or ever comes to be, 

Touches the world in some small way 

For all eternity. 

The little one we long for 

Was swiftly here and gone. 

But the love that was then planted 

Is a light that still shines on.

And though our arms are empty, 

Our hearts know what to do. 

Every beating of our hearts 

Says that we do love you.

As parents do we ever really say Good Bye??

~ by Cherie Houston

I recently read that two of the hardest things to say in life are “Hello” for the first time and “Goodbye” for the last time…I’d never thought about it until I read this, but how true..  But as parents can we ever really say goodbye to our children – even when they die…  I believe Gandhi is right when he says:  There are no good-byes, where ever you'll be, you'll be in my heart. ~ Gandhi

My daughter Robin Marie died forty years ago today.  We were living in Dallas, Texas – Robin was 7 months and 2 days old – Robin was born Dec. 29^th, 1971 – just 9 months after her twin siblings..  She was already pulling herself up in her crib & playpen and was holding on and could walk around the couch – all the time smiling with the proudest sense of accomplishment.  We’d been to the pediatrician the day before she died. "She’s doing wonderfully & thriving" we were told – she received the usual vaccines – and it was an uneventful afternoon and evening and she went down that night as usual.  A Close neighbor friend of ours was there that evening, she had just had a little girl and couldn’t find a christening gown she liked, so I had I pulled Robin’s christening gown from my hope chest for her to borrow…

A little before 7am the next morning I awoke to the most horrible screams of anguish – it was my husband – he’d awoken and gone in to give Robin her bottle in her crib with a beautiful eyelet canopy, in the red white & blue nursery that she shared with her older brother Ricky.  Ricky was 9 months older than Robin and with the noise of his daddy he also began to cry… I’m not sure what made me call 911 before I even got out of bed, but I did.  I don’t remember what my husband may have said that made me do that, but I did.  By the time I got to the nursery, which was just steps away from our room, her daddy was sitting on the floor rocking her, begging God not to let this happen again, not to take our second child..  You see 16 months prior, when Rickey was born, his twin sister Randee Marie had died the day after she was born, they were 12 weeks premature and she just wasn’t strong enough..  We were blessed that Ricky did survive (and I might add that today Ric continues to thrive and has 2 beautiful children of his own – a 12 year old son and 8 year old daughter, whom is named after his twin sister and ironically was born on the same day Randee had died, March 17^th, 31 years later…

That morning, 40 years ago, the moment I took Robin from her daddy*, I knew she was already with her sister Randee in heaven. I’ve never been one to lock our doors, so the Police, Fire Dept and EMT’s had no problem getting into our home and in moments our beautiful nursery on the 2^nd floor was filled with first responders, tears, questions and I remember praying that God would just take us all…. After that everything gets hazy.. I don’t remember who or how Rickey was taken from his crib, or how we got downstairs, but I vividly remember being downstairs in our living room when the EMT’s took Robin from our home. My poor husband*, her dad, was totally numb and overcome with grief…  As the EMT’s came downstairs carrying Robin, I remember 3 things – watching one of the first responders on our back patio crying inconsolably and being comforted by another officer and my yelling at him to stop crying (I learned later that it was his first day back to work after losing his own 4 month old son to SIDS);  I also remember looking at her beautiful christening gown laying on the dining room table and wondering why it was last night that I'd taken it out - the Christening wasn't for another few weeks; and I remember them asking me if we wanted to say good-bye, I remember telling them I would never say good-bye and then I remember crying and thinking the tears would never stop...

But the tears did stop, I'm not sure how but there were calls to make, arrangements to be made.  We were in Dallas, Texas and all our family was in New England - I knew we needed to take Robin back to Massachusetts to be her little sister; I knew we needed our families around us.  I also remember apologizing to our neighbor Beth that I couldn’t loan her the christening gown because I wanted Robin to wear that… and then the tears began again....

Within hours we were flying back to Boston and stayed in New England for several weeks – we were blessed that our close friends in Texas took care of the nursery including removing all of her things and buying Ricky a big boy bedroom set and redoing the room with stars and planets.  I remember the tears coming again when Robin was buried on August 6^th with her little sister – but still I couldn’t say good-bye..  The tears continued on and off for many months. I can remember sometimes feeling as though I couldn’t possibly have any tears left; there were days when I would scream – at anyone or anything – just scream as though I were insane; and I vividly remember picking up a jar of baby of food in the grocery store & breaking down when I realized I no longer needed to buy it, and leaving everything where it stood as I ran to the privacy of my car, again the tears wouldn't stop...  

I was blessed to have several reasons to continue on – first I had to take care of my 16 month old son Ricky, who was too young to understand what had happened but missed his playmate terribly and would look for her everywhere so we talked about her all the time he and I; then Dr. Sturner who was the Dallas Medical Examiner and became my mentor as I quickly immersed myself in establishing the first SIDS chapter in Dallas – which for me saved my sanity for sure-meeting other families help me to cope with all the mixed feelings of guilt, anger and whatever else there may have been going on in my mind at the time…and last by not least, was the fact that I became pregnant again, with my son Bobby – who was born the following August 27^th, 1973… 

Looking back now I remember how hard it was to say “hello” to Bobby for the first time and how the tears came without warning - mixed tears of joy and sorrow; and when Bobby died 36 years later on Sept. 19^th, 2009 the tears came again, but I also made a conscious decision again not to say good-bye.  I know that they are not nor will they ever be physically with us again, but I just don't feel it is necessary to say goodbye to any of them - to his sisters Randee Marie in Mach 1971 or Robin Marie in July 1972, and I'll not say good-bye to Bobby either… 

I am blessed to have 3 guardian angels (4 actually because my grandmother Mae is with them I believe) and I talk to the 4 of them continually.  I believe they are responsible for my always getting the best parking space no matter where we go and how crowded it may be, they are the dragonflies who visit us often and in states where dragonflies normally don’t frequent; and I’ve been blessed not to dream of any of them, which is probably best so I’m never tempted to say good-bye..…. 

I do talk to them often but I also believe it is so important for every parent who loses a child to have people to talk to  - people who will let you talk and who don't judge what you say....  I’m convinced that this rarely can be a family member because family is also hurting, family and most friends are simply too close to the situation.  We each need someone who will let us say anything that needs saying, whether it hurts or not.  After my girls it was Dr. Sturner in Dallas and the countless parents I worked with thru our SIDS chapter; since Bobby’s death it has been the wonderful moms of our Journey from Mourning to Joy group where we live in Lake Havasu City, AZ – their founder Joyce Floyd called me within weeks of Bobby’s death and Joyce and her “team” (all moms who have been on this same journey) have been my rocks and inspiration ever since that first call weeks after Bobby's death and then of course each of the moms who share in this and so many other blogs….  If you aren’t one for support groups, then find a minister, health care professional, counselor or even a even a grief hotline, which are manned by people who are trained to listen – many of whom have been where you are…

As much as we love our family, friends, spouses, siblings etc. it’s important to understand how very personal and unique grief is to each of us – there is not right or wrong way – we each have to find our own way through it…  So for me, it's not good-bye - it is "until we meet again"!  and yes the tears still fall on days like this....

*Note-I wish someone like Kelly Farley and the Grieving Dads Project had been around for my ex-husband (the father of my 3 children who have died) 40 years ago.. So many dads, like him, are never able to cope with these loses and by not facing or dealing with the grief, so many aspects of their lives suffer for years o come.....

“Some people come into our lives and quickly go. Some people move our souls to dance. They awaken us to new understandings with the passing whisper of their wisdom. Some people make the sky more beautiful to gaze upon. They stay in our lives for awhile, leave footprints in our heart, and we are never ever the same”  ~ Chicken Soup for the Soul 

Does anyone undesrstand what we are going through?

~ by Cherie Houston

July 31st, 1972 - 39 years ago today, my beautiful daughter Robin died.. She was a beautiful healthy and happy little 7 month old - sharing the nursery with her 16 month old brother Ric - their very patriotic red, white & blue nursery with matching cribs, hers had a beautiful canopy top... We awoke early that Monday morning, to the shock that Robin Marie, our beautiful little girl, had died during the night, a victim of SIDS - yes 39 years ago today, our world seemed to go into a tailspin, that was the day we lost our 2nd child.. God this can't be happening again, but it did.. Our first daughter, Randee Marie, had died the year before on March 17, 1971 - a little more than 9 hours after she'd been born 12 weeks prematurely, but despite the heartache of losing Randee, we were blessed ~ her twin brother, Ric - who was also only 3 lbs - had survived and now again Ric was our "only child".

I've kept a diary since high school and from time to time I go back and read entries from years gone by - funny, sad, philosophical, complaining, angry, proud, amazing, hopeful - such a wide variety of emotions and it helps to see where I've been... I recently went back and read my diary a year after Robin died - not sure I've ever gone back and read the few weeks after her death-that's too painful, but a year later was OK. I was already expecting again - and would be blessed with a little baby boy - yes Ric had a new baby brother - Bobby was born Aug 27th, 13 months after Robin's death and 7 years later we were blessed again with another beautiful baby boy - Sean... Blessings and tragedy seem to be intertwined - on September 19, 2009 our 3rd child would die, when our 36 year old sone Bobby took his own life on September 19th, 2009..... I want to share with you what I wrote one year aftr Robins death, because it reminds me that maybe those around us who can't understand our pain, just truly can't...

Tuesday, July 31st, 1973
I don't remember when or where I heard the expression "the only two things in life that are certain are death and taxes" But I know it's a common statement, so why is it that no one seems comfortable with understanding what death does to those who are left living? Why can't anyone around me understand how painful it is when someone we know or loves is grieving and heartbroken over the loss of their child, parent, spouse or close friend. Why doesn’t everyone around us understand what we are going through? After all everyone is going to experience loss at some time in their life. Or is it that grief is so terribly painful that no one wants to talk about it and those of us who do, we just makes others uncomfortable.

How did this happen – one year ago today my beautiful little girl Robin died, gone – only 7 months old and in just a moment, this healthy happy little girl who had just pulled herself up and took a step was gone… How can this be and why is that no one seems to understand what I’m going through. I watch other young moms and dads who have lost their babies to SIDS and why is that no one around any of us seems to understand the impact that this loss has had on us. Instead, it seems as though others around us, want to yell at us and say “straighten up and get on with your lives – you are young, you’ll get over it – you’ll have another”… Yes, maybe that’s true – after all I am excited about being pregnant again and I’m nervously looking forward to the arrival of this new little girl or boy in a few months, but why can’t anyone understand that I also want Robin back and that this new baby, although he or she will be loved, will not and can never replace Robin – I just want my baby girl back…

It's not fair-what did we ever do wrong to be thrown into this nightmare – like a spooky fraternity with the deaths of our babies in common - yet we have no idea what to do, how to act, what is normal and we are all wondering the same thing – are we all going crazy?? Dr. Sturner has been so wonderful - who could have guessed the medical examiner to do Robin's autopsy would become such a close friend, but he's helped me so much this last year including establishing this SIDS chapter, but he’s a grandfather and although he’s lost a grandbaby to SIDS, he’s blessed that he has all his children – he can’t fully understand how overwhelming this loss is… I’m amazed at the number of “outsiders” who have whispered to us that they themselves, their moms, aunts, grandmas, etc have had a baby who died of ‘crib death also” but they never talk about it – how can that be, I just want to shout it from the roof tops – my baby is gone, my heart is broken, can’t anyone help me… how and why can you keep death a secret??

Each parent I meet, the feelings we share are the same, feelings of devastating pain, all we want are things the way they were ~ we want our life as it once was and our babies back ~ God why cna't anyone understand that this pain is crippling ~ our hearts feel as though they are totally shattered and we aren’t sure if we will ever get through this, how can we cope, will we ever feel better – doesn’t anyone understand how much we are hurting… Is this what we are going to feel forever – it’s been a year, but it feels like this morning – the nightmare repeats itself over and over again in my mind – whether I’m awake or asleep – like a movie that never stops…

But then again I can't be going crazy – because each and every parent I meet who has suffered this same horrific event is feeling the same things, so this must be normal, this must just be what grief is.. But if that's the case, why then, can’t anyone around me understand what I’m going through, because after all – some of them must have been where we are, they must understand what we are going through – because after all everyone is going to suffer the loss of someone they love – after all taxes & death are the only 2 sure things in life that are certain..

So why can’t they understand my grief or is it that they do understand. Yes maybe they do understand more than I think they do, but maybe - just maybe - for them it’s just too painful to go back, so they scurry away from us - almost as though we are contagious and they might catch our grief - and maybe they have to turn their backs on us because they are just grateful that it’s not them…

HOLIDAY BLUES

~ Maria Delgadillo, California SIDS Program- San Diego Guild for Infant Survival from When the Bough Breaks

Surviving the holiday season can be an exhausting experience at just about any year within one’s lifetime. This is especially true, we believe, after one has suffered the loss of a dear, innocent child. We all know that it’s not only the death of our baby that we face, but also the death of our hopes and dreams and the birth of intense pain and longing.

Tis the season to be jolly” the music in the malls reminds us. If we have trouble sleeping we’re to “count our blessings instead of sheep.” Impossible it seems especially in the first year. There is so much anger and sadness—everywhere—and constant reminders. Coupons for baby toys come in the mail, photographers call hoping to schedule appointments. You see so many little ones sitting on Santa’s lap, such wonderment shining in their eyes. And the emptiness grows deeper.

Socializing (“celebrating” seems too strong of a word) with family members and co-workers is not always easy either. You may find that they don’t verbally acknowledge your baby’s memory in or¬der to protect you from “more pain” and themselves from discomfort. Of course, we all know in our minds that they have not forgotten our sweet children. But in our hearts it still hurts. A lot. And the emptiness grows even deeper.

So, what are we able to do in order to help ourselves and loved ones through this lonely time? First of all, be aware that there will be at least a touch of sadness, even if there are other children in your home who will awaken you at six in the morning to see what Santa has left. Realize that “unex¬plained tears” and pangs of sadness are very normal and natural, even years after your baby has died.

Secondly, do spend time with your family and friends but do not over-extend yourself. Make sure that you and your spouse have time alone to share feelings and memories, the ones that only the two of you are able to fully appreciate. Do something nice and relaxing for yourself, whether it is a bubble bath or game of golf.

And finally, do something special to honor the memory of your child. Some parents light a candle at the church, others decorate their child's grave site with poinsettias and garland, while others always keep an extra place set at the Christmas dinner table. Many parents give financial gifts to a charity in loving memory of the baby. Some families donate a toy or two which they feel their child would enjoy if they were still within the family. Some make sure that others in the family receive a gift, given in love, from the brother or sister they hardly/never knew. One mother shared that she crocheted snowflake Christmas decorations and glued a picture of their son into the middle. She then gave one to family members and close friends.
The important thing to remember is to do something that you find helpful and meaningful.

Surviving the holidays after the loss of your baby

The holidays are incredibly difficult after the death of a child, but especially for young moms after the death of their precious infants – no matter how or when their babies died - before birth or during the first year or two .. Each and every child is precious and having other children doesn't make it easier, but for those mom's who have lost their only child - the holidays can be especailly painful.  For each of you, I hope this article from a young mom, will help you find peace this holiday season…


SURVIVING THE HOLIDAYS  ~ by Peggy Crane

All my life I have dearly loved all holidays. I enjoyed the planning, decorating, family gatherings, and presents. By the time my eldest daughter, Danielle, was about two years old she was a full-fledged holiday lover, too.

In the Spring of 1990 I found out that I was pregnant with my second child and that the baby was due on Christmas Day. Since we had been trying to get pregnant for quite a while, I was ecstatic with the news. The additional bonus of having a Christmas baby only added to my joy. Particularly in the last few weeks of my pregnancy I enjoyed going to church and listening to the familiar Christmas stories full of reminders that a very special baby was about to be born. It was very special to me to rehear the historical accounts of the anticipation of Jesus’ birth at a time when my mind was so full of thoughts about the impending arrival of my own baby. Maegan was born just four days before Christmas. Her one and only Christmas was a beautiful, peaceful day for all of us.

After Maegan died of SIDS at the age of four months, I found myself dreading all holidays. Every special occasion was a sorrowful reminder of the beloved child that was no longer with us. Since Maegan’s first birthday and our first Christmas without her came all at once, this was an especially painful time.

For the sake of my sanity, and to keep the wondrous joy of the holiday season alive in Danielle, who was then five, I sought advice from friends who had suffered similar losses and I read articles on the subject. The following is a summary of the information that I found to be the most helpful:

Be easy on yourself. The holidays will most likely be difficult for you—don’t be alarmed if you find yourself crying without warning. If you can accept these facts, it may help you relax a little bit. Do attend whatever gatherings you most want to go to but don’t force yourself to accept every invitation. Trying to cope with the loss of your child takes enough energy without burdening yourself with a lot of social obligations.

Prioritize your holiday rituals. This may be a good time for you to take stock of the activities you do each year and weed out those that you no longer feel inclined to do. For example, if holiday baking is something you dread, look for a place to buy your holiday goodies or consider swapping with friends. Or, just because you don’t have the energy for an elaborate list of Christmas cards this year doesn’t mean that you can’t resume sending holiday cards next year if you feel more able.

Find a new place to celebrate the holidays. I am so thankful that a friend suggested that we break from tradition and spend our first Christmas after Maegan’s death away from home. We rented a cabin in the mountains for Maegan’s birthday until the day after Christmas. Being in neutral surroundings allowed us to focus on our immediate family, away from the pressures of our well-meaning family and friends. The mountain setting was so peaceful and beautiful that it helped to remind us of the joys of life.

Do something special to commemorate your beloved baby. Many people find that it makes them feel better to make a financial contribution to a charity in loving memory of their baby. You might want to suggest to family members that they take the money they would have spent on a gift for your child and make a charitable contribution. Some people like to buy a toy or clothing that they feel their own child would have enjoyed and donate it to a childrens’ charity. Among other traditions in our home, Santa always leaves a special present for Maegan’s family and we provide the altar flowers for our church on the Sunday when the children’s Christmas pageant is presented.

Do keep an open line of communication with friends and family about how you are feeling. These times can be very awkward for those around us. Many people avoid mentioning your loss, for fear it will make you feel worse. It will most likely be easier for everyone if you bring up the subject and discuss your feelings openly. I think that this is particularly important on the days that are unique to you and your baby such as their birthday and the anniversary of their death. Over and over, I have heard people say that they were thinking of us on these special days but they were afraid to call or to bring up the subject.

The overwhelming pain of losing an infant

~~ Cherie Houston

Today I remember my beautiful daughter Robin Marie whose stay was so very brief - only 7 months -Robin was born December 29th, 1971 and we lost her to S.I.D.S. on July 31st, 1972.  As I reflect I can't help but think of all of all the moms who share this special ache - Lisa, Jessica, Kristin, Nikki and countless others - you know who you are - the pain is always there, just below the surface - remember that special little someone who is misssing...

The ache of a young mom is different - I know because I've lost a newborn, and then a 7 month old and last fall a 36 year old and they are all very different.  The ache for a newborn and infant - that  is an ache that resonates throughout our bodies, not only in our hearts but deep within our wombs.  There are times, when we actually think we can feel that faint flutter, you remember - the one that reminds us of that very first sensation - that caused such overwhelming excitement - you wanted to scream to the world "I'm gong to be a mom".  And when we lose a child - of any age - we lose a future - dreams - hopes and endless possibilities that will never be and the loss of memories that will never occur... BUT....

There's no doubt, that once we conceive that precisous child - we are moms and will forever be moms - no matter how young or old - no matter how long we are allowed to enjoy them here on earth - we, from the moment of conception, are moms...  I'm not sure who sent me this poem or when I received it, but it is in with those special memories I had tucked away with her sister Randee Marie's (Randee had died the previous March '71) and Robin's things and I wanted to share it with those other "new moms" who are feeling that ache...

Tiny Footprints on a Mother's Heart

When a baby arrives,

be it for a moment, day, month, year or more,

or perhaps only a sweet flickering moment-

the fragile spark of a tender soul

the secret swell of a new pregnancy

the goldfish flutter known to only you-

you are unmistakeningly changed...

the tiny footprints left behind on your heart

bespeak your name as Mother.